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grimm-writings · 8 months ago

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Hey! Can I request a falin x reader where reader is a lone researcher in the dungeon and stumbles into chimera falin and the two fall in love?

Maybe Like a 5 times the reader has met chimera falin and 1 time the two get to meet after she’s turned back type story?

beauty/beast

…ft! falin x gn! reader

…tags! 5+1 format, reader is like slightly unhinged, fluff with moments of angst, slight suggestiveness

…wc! 2789

…notes! grimm tries not to come off as a monsterkisser for nearly 2.7k words, the fic,,,, hope you enjoy!!!! i love chimera falin so bad…

One

You can’t say you didn’t ask for this.

It’s a death sentence to traverse into a dungeon on your own, especially with your lack of combat skills. If you were sane, you’d have hired a bodyguard to help take down monsters you couldn’t handle. Fortunately, you are not, and decided instead you could very well handle monsters in a pacifistic way.

Any companion you told this to chose to stare at you like you admitted to dark magic.

So, you’ll simply prove the nay-sayers wrong! After all, how hard can it be to tame some monsters?

Very hard, actually. Like… incredibly.

You had to pride yourself in how you managed to sweet-talk some petty thieves for advice on monsters in the floor you’re currently on, even how to avoid orcs! At least that much is out of the way.

As for fighting, well, sometimes a very sharp slap to the head with a book, or even the sharp tip of a pen can subdue anyone, if just to give you enough time to run.

Besides, blood makes for some extra ink if you just happened to come by a dead body!

Going purely on efficiency alone, you’re doing tremendous work! When it comes to your study? Not so much.

The purpose of coming all the way down here is that you have a very specific urge. That being, to tame a beast. Some researchers gained the will to try and do the same to elemental spirits, why not other monsters?

One of the most common rebuttals you receive is that monsters are animals, they can’t be tamed at all, and you shouldn’t even try lest you want your head bitten off. Considering thus far you only got bitten by a walking mushroom, you think you’re doing rather well! (You did take an hour to contemplate to yourself how a walking mushroom seemingly has teeth, though.)

That brings you now later to the fourth floor, trying to shield your notes from the water as you lament losing more ink. Sure, you might write a little bit more than should be necessary, but you surely can’t be out already!

So, delight fills you as you peer past a doorway to see the top half of a woman face down on the floor. Haha, you can likely drain her pretty easily for some ink! Looks fresh enough, and some patches of her are already damp with red!

You skip over, humming as you do so, when all at once the woman jerks and looks up at you. Her golden eyes pierce your own, making you freeze in place. You wonder if something had gotten mixed up and a succubus ended up making its way to an upper floor, when the walls of the small tower the woman is inhabiting collapses.

A chimera screeches at you, as if telling you to leave it alone. If you weren’t so awestruck, you would have tried to shush it, lure it towards you and petted its oddly human head. Alas, you let the chicken-legged thing go, finding a safe haven for itself.

Day 1: I have found a beast in its purest form. I must pursue it. I must tame it.

Two

‘Obsession’ would be putting your experience lightly.

You had never wanted to gaze upon a monster as much as you wished to see the chimera again. Unique is its proportions, the lower body of a dragon and the torso and head of an adult tallwoman.

To anyone else, its face must be more of a lure. With the prettiest face and… great assets to boot, like a fish drawn to an angler fish's light, a blindsided adventurer comes near.

You had tried to navigate where the beast has gone, observing the damages of certain areas to lead you closer to it.

Thoughts course through your mind like speckles of a daydream as you walk and walk and walk, trying to sneak past other enemies and adventurers as you do so. What would its feathers feel like? Is it different from the mop of blonde hair on its head? You didn’t get the chance to observe its eyes – are they human or monster? What of its body heat? What is its diet?

Ah. Diet.

Your own body stops walking in realisation. By all means, comparing their mouth to the rest of their body, it’s ultimately impossible for the chimera to have a stable diet in this dungeon, correct?

Perhaps… you need to make a lure of your own.

Even after days of navigating the dungeon, you still have plenty of rations from the surface remaining in your bag. Hopefully the chimera likes the most noble meal one can fit inside a lunchbox — meats and pasta with the richest sauce. One could say your taste in meals is unique, eliciting a morbid curiosity. If the beast is more in tune with its human side, it will react the same.

You don’t know what tempted you to arrange a table with two chairs on either side. It’s not like the chimera could fit, but it was only suitable for your first formal meeting with it! Oh, how you can’t wait to observe it eating, and so close…!

If you’re lucky, it may even attempt to taste you.

You promptly shake off the thought.

What you focus on now is to draw the chimera near. It seems to favour secluded areas, but has been seemingly chased around. Aw, is it scared of humans? That’s just adorable! Or, maybe, it’s resting before setting off on a search… Now that’d be some juicy stuff! Who’s the chimera’s prey? Another monster, or humans?

Oh, of course you’ll use yourself as bait. You’re not a coward!

You know basic enough spells that you won’t be entirely drained of mana upon use, lighting up a route to catch the chimera’s attention upon spotting it. Down you lead it, making yourself look as bright and delectable as possible, before sitting in your seat, your meal readily prepared for the chimera.

You smile up at her as she pokes at the food you prepared, and she begins to eat.

Day 3: The beast was very hungry upon encounter. Even when she finished the meal, she insisted on having something more. I complied, and soon I had emptied my entire share of rations. The chimera eats food made for humans easily. This elicits curiosity – it might be proof enough that the chimera’s existence in this dungeon is unnatural. Even now, it looks too… human. I feel uncomfortable now referring to the beast as such – an ‘it’. Thus, I will refer to the chimera as ‘she’ from here on. It suits her. She truly is magnificent. All signs point to her being an attempt at creating a ‘beast-kin’, but instead of using the soul of a monster and body of a human, it’s as if it’s a mesh of both. A disgustingly beautiful transformation. To compare, it is not dissimilar to the breeding of a pug. Deliberately done to appease someone, something. A selfish birth. Someone must be wanting to do the same as I to the chimera – tame her to their whims. …I’ll have to look further into this.

Three

You feel less in control of your studies these days.

The more you hang around the dungeon, scavenging for food and following your muse, the more insane you feel. But, for the sake of research, you power through.

The chimera, she has been opening herself up to you. When she gets anxious, her feathers ruffle, and you shush her with pets. She calms down occasionally. Once, you had encountered her, blood on her body and under her fingernails. You cleaned her using the mana-infused water. She had never looked so calm.

She doesn’t feel like a monster you have tamed, but a friend.

This scares you.

Sure, there’s the possibility that the chimera is an unnatural phenomenon, and isn’t even a monster.

But that also means you’re losing your resolve.

The chimera sits with you, as you scrub her red-scaled talons free of dirt and blood. Her upper body leans on you, resting. You can even hear little chirps slipping from her lips.

She’s so cute.

Even as her golden eyes soften, the small slits in them dilating to exhibit relaxation, she smiles at you. You don’t flinch when her hands take your face to look at you. She’s a bird after all – she might be trying to memorise you, how you look, so she knows not to hurt you in the future.

You were nearly about to reminisce on your further embarrassment when the chimera speaks.

Four words. She spoke four words in the common language, leaving you staring at her. You’re speechless. She must know that she’s caught you off guard as she slowly tucks your hair behind your ear and moves away.

The moment is quickly ruined. “Dragon!” A boyish voice calls. “There you are. You’ve been leaving my side so frequently. There’s no time to–”

An elf in a cloak freezes upon noticing you. His heavy eye bags rival your own as he glares down at your sitting position.

You don’t do anything, merely looking up at your friend in confusion. She is back to being silent again, reaching her arms out to the elf, as if about to pick him up. He swats at her, before pointing at you.

“Kill them,” he demands her.

She hesitates. You also find yourself unable to move. So the chimera is under someone’s control after all. This elf, forcing you apart from your friend.

You hardly process your friend lifting you off the floor, her fingers closing in around your throat. Tighter and tighter. Your eyes can barely make out her empty expression as she squeezes the life out of your lungs.

Snap.

You fall onto the floor, and the mad mage leaves with his dragon in tow.

Day ??: “My name is Falin.�� The chimera told me this last time we encountered one another. She has a name. A beautiful name that belongs just to her. Falin. …I would say ‘my Falin’, but she is not. She is under the control of that elf. I wouldn’t want her to be my Falin anyway. She shouldn’t belong to anyone. I was revived by a kindly Eastern woman, who is accompanying a group of retainers following their lord. They are joined by another party, also recently revived. Apparently, in my revival, I had uttered her name, “Falin,” and captured the attention of the malnourished lord. He is looking for her. …I was informed she is his love. Pushing personal feelings aside, I asked to come along. I neglected to mention Falin’s current state. I couldn’t do that to him right now. Maybe once he sleeps, or eats… but not now. Falin, I wish to save you. That is my goal now. You are not a monster to be tamed.

Four

Today, you met Laios Touden.

He is Falin’s older brother, you learn.

You met a lot of people, actually. You met Falin’s party, an elf who Falin went to school with, as well as Laios Touden.

“You’ve seen Falin?” He asks you, brow creased. He had leaned forward in interest. Lord Toshiro, Kabru, and Asebi were also listening to you with intrigue.

You nod. “Yes, but I fear the situation might be a little more than you have bargained for,” you vaguely inform.

Your words would be interrupted by Laios’ request to talk privately with Toshiro, to which you comply. You do already have a feeling of what's being said, something Kabru seems to pick up on as he glances over at you.

“Falin… isn’t faring well, is she?”

“Not in the traditional sense,” you reply. Kabru grimaces, clearly not appreciating your rather… erratic way of conversing. You add before he could talk back, “she’ll come back for me.”

Kabru furrows his brow. “Excuse me?”

His question remains unanswered until you are swept up in a heated battle. Looks of horror cross everyone’s faces at the bloody acts committed by the chimera.

You merely smile.

“Hello beauty,” you whisper when she turns to you. Falin steps forward, cornering you. You welcome her with open arms – and the world becomes dark again.

Day ??: Scorned though I may be by Lord Toshiro, I know myself not to be mad, but in love. Yes, I am in love. I know this now for certain. I know that he, too, is in love. I do not see his wishes badly. In fact, from a sane man’s mouth, it is perfectly understandable. Dark magic is dangerous. As is love. He’s risking his own reputation for it, even if others don’t appear to see things the way he does. But when push comes to shove, I am not that sane man. I am joining Laios Touden’s party in the retrieval of Falin. The aftermath of the battle consisted of a hearty meal. Who knew monsters could taste so nice? Keep this in mind for the next adventure. I had figured this all came from the result of black magic. Marcille Donato is a much more interesting woman than I thought. I’m sure I could learn a lot from her. Hence, we march forward. I know you aren’t in your right mind, Falin, but trust that I am. I will risk it all for you, beauty.

Five

The ice is cold underneath your fingertips. The woman encased inside is relaxed, as if she’s merely asleep. To see her completely separated from the lower half of the chimera body was something uncanny to you, so used to seeing her towering over you, able to squash you like a bug.

You turn to Marcille as she approaches. “You had the right mind, keeping her fresh like this. Deep down, you really did want to follow through with the plan!”

The blonde elf is sheepish. “I did end up causing a right mess in the end. It… It was selfish of me.”

“It was love,” you reply.

“Not the love Falin needs, though,” she finishes.

You both stare up at her in silence. If you were delusional enough, you could swear you could see Falin breathing.

“I love her,” you admit, quieter than you have ever been. “Is that alright with you?”

Marcille turns to you, her eyes wide. For such a gossip, she really hasn’t picked up on it?

“I…” She hesitates. Her hands reach her trousers, and she scrunches up the fabric in her hands. “It’s not my choice what – or who – Falin chooses. I don’t think I have the right to decide anything for her.”

You nod, graciously taking Marcille’s word to heart.

You feel you’ve also changed throughout your journey. Volatile as you may be, you appreciate Falin as she is. An untamed beauty. Not for anyone to claim or put their ideals onto.

She’s simply Falin.

“Come on,” Marcille takes your hand. She has the kind of look on her face where you know she accepts you readily. “Let’s go eat, okay? For Falin.”

You smile back. “For Falin.”

I don’t care about the day anymore. Falin is being revived today. Soon, I’ll have a chance to meet the real her. The beauty behind the beast. Ha. I haven’t called her that for a while. Maybe I’ll follow Toshiro’s way and propose immediately too? No, Marcille may accept me, but that might result in another need for revival. I can’t wait to get to know you.

the first time

Falin opens the door with a dazed expression, not expecting the crowd waiting around the door. Of course, this resulted in quite the hoo-ha. People running around, celebrating the successful revival of Falin Touden. You wait patiently for you to be welcomed once more.

The woman is sitting calmly at her bed. Some of her features are still feathered, but you’ve always liked how they felt underneath your fingertips.

She glances up at you, examining your form.

You’re taller than she thought.

“Hi,” you say, handing over a random blade of grass you picked.

Falin takes it. Her fingers brush against your own. She starts twirling the natural green between her fingers. She smiles warmly. “Hello,” her soft, tired voice returns. It’s so sweet that you might melt. “My name is Falin. It’s nice to meet you.”

You know from the way she glances up at you that she already remembers you quite well.

Feeling the happiest you’ve ever been, you fall into Falin, pulling her into the tightest of hugs.

“It’s so wonderful to meet you too, beauty.”

Today, she asked me if she could belong to me. I said yes, but only if she belonged to herself first. She accepted.

#✮ grimm's fics!#FALLS OVER #this is my longest fic so far i think wow #as falin deserves #delicious in dungeon #delicious in dungeon imagines #delicious in dungeon x reader #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi imagines #dungeon meshi x reader #falin #falin touden #falin x reader #falin imagines #falin touden x reader #falin touden imagines

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yes-ihavealwaysbeengreen · 5 months ago

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We Found Love in a Tornado (Javi Rivera x F!Reader)

A/N: I did not think my first story for this fandom would be Javi but I sat down and this is what came out. I hope you enjoy! Send requests and ideas for Javi or Tyler.

Pairing: Javi Rivera x F! Reader (Kate's Sister) *No physical descriptions besides mentioning younger sister.

Warnings: Language, light angst, possible movie spoilers.

“Oh shit,” you whisper, leaning towards the window as you pass the caravan of Storm Par trucks. Boone leans across you, pressing his cheek to your own and you push him back with a huff, “Get off me.”

“What’s got you in such a tizzy?” he asks, cocking his head like a cocker spaniel.

“It’s my sister,” your head falls back against the seat as you groan, pressing your palm into the center of your eye.

“The New York one?” Tyler asks, waving and smiling as you pass the adoring mass of the crowd chanting his name.

“I only have one sister,” you remind him, “and that is definitely her. Shit, I figured Javi would bring her in eventually.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Boone sets up the streaming on his camera, turning on the lights attached and putting a hand on the door.

“Nothing,” you shake your head, frowning, “Kate is perfect.”

Boone frowns giving your hand a quick squeeze before opening the door with a flourish and starting the stream, leaving you alone to brood in the truck. You count to ten before opening the door and bypassing the crowd to make your way over to the figure standing in the distance before the looming clouds.

“I was wondering when Javi would finally manage to bring you home,” Kate whips around at the sound of your voice, “god only knows he’s the only one you’d make an effort for.”

“Y/N,” Kate reaches a hand out but you withdraw a step back, crossing your arms over your chest. She frowns, your heart twisting at the hurt expression, “I was going to call.” She looks back towards the clouds, “I was going to call you and Mama about getting together while I was home.”

“I’m sure you were,” the bitterness in your voice burns and she clenches her eyes shut before turning back to you, wiping at the moisture that’s gathered. “What are you doing here, Kate?”

“I’m helping Javi,” she takes a step closer, “has he told you about his research? His device can scan an entire tornado from every angle. If we get a full scan we can use the research to help people, save lives.”

You scoff, “Do you even know who you work for?”

“So this must be the infamous, New York Carter,” Tyler comes over and slings an arm around your shoulder, squeezing it, “Boone is looking for you.” He turns you and gives a little push, whispering close to your ear, “Calm down, go take a walk.”

You do as he says, Kate calling your name over your shoulder. Boone is busy streaming so you walk over to the convenience store for a drink. Inside you line up to get a fountain drink and contemplate the choices when someone steps up behind you.

“You know, you don’t have to be so hard on her,” Javi chastises stepping into your space. “It took a lot for her to come out here and chase again.”

“Oh bite me, Javi,” you turn around, glaring. “I have watched everyone coddle Kate our whole life. Kate has always been the perfect child, the perfect student, the perfect friend and girlfriend. And then she goes and almost dies and abandons everyone and you want me to what? Give her a hug and a pat on the head and tell her it’s all fine. It’s not fine, Javi.”

Forgoing the drink, you move to push past him when he grabs your arm, “she’s not the only one who left. Kate isn’t the only one who ran away.”

“I was 19 when she left, Javi,” you grab his hand and move it off your arm, staring him down, “I was 19 and a sophomore at the University of Arkansas studying Meteorology because I only ever wanted to be as great as my sister. And when I came home she was gone and you left for Miami and joined the military. I loved you Javi,” you hate the tears stinging your eyes and he goes deathly still at your words, “But I’ll always be the wrong Carter sister.”

Javi is frozen and you turn and run back towards the red truck, sliding into the backseat and watching as Tyler slides into the front turning the key. “Time to go,” he grabs the walkie and the truck sets off.

“Here we go again folks,” Boone looks around the truck, pointing the camera at you but quickly averting it when he sees the tears streaming down your face. Ben, reaches into his coat pocket, handing you a hankie and you nod, taking it and rubbing at your eyes.

“We got company,” Tyler shouts and Boone swings the camera around to the passenger side door. “What?!” Tyler rolls down the window putting a hand to his ear, “I can’t hear you!”

“Pull this damn truck over!” Javi shouts and you quickly sit up and slide between Tyler and Boone.

“Don’t you dare fucking pull this truck over,” you look between them before glancing at Javi, “Fuck you!”

“You heard the lady!” Tyler rolls up the window with a shout and drives off, kicking up dirt. The truck bumps and groves and you quickly move back into the seat and tug over the harnesses. The tornado gets closer and closer with every passing second and Tyler and Boone cheer as the wind picks up.

“What the fuck?” Tyler looks in his rearview mirror alarmed, “is he out of his goddamn mind?!”

A hand slams against the windshield and you scream, Boone reaching around to open the door and Javi crawling over you, the door slamming shut behind him. “You must be out of your fucking mind!” Boone hollars, zooming in on Javi, his hair windswept and his pristine white shirt soaked.

“Javi, what the hell?!” you hit him, “you scared me half to death.”

“I told you to pull over!” he shouts, the truck rocking back and forth as the tornado closes in.

“And I told you to FUCK OFF,” you sit up straighter, pushing him.

“You also told me you loved me,” he shouts, “and then fucking ran off into a tornado before I could even say anything!”

The truck is silent besides the two of you panting, “then talk,” you cross your arms over your chest, taking a deep breath. The wind outside grows louder until you both have to shout over the howl.

“I DON’T WANT TO BE WITH KATE, SHE’S LIKE A SISTER TO ME!”

“THEN WHY DID YOU LEAVE?! WHY NOT TALK TO ME!”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!” You snap your jaw shut, eyes going wide, “AND EVERYTIME I LOVE SOMETHING, I LOSE IT! MY MOM DIED OF CANCER, MY DAD ABANDONED ME, MY THREE BEST FRIENDS DIED, AND THEN KATE MOVED TO NEW YORK. I COULDN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE. I THOUGHT I WAS PROTECTING YOU,” he sighs, “I THOUGHT I WAS PROTECTING MYSELF.”

The tornado engulfs the vehicle but everyone is silent, watching the two of you. “JAVI,” you shout over the shrieking winds, “I’VE NEVER BEEN KISSED IN A TORNADO BEFORE.”

He smiles, leaning forward quickly pressing his lips to yours and you moan leaning forward to run your hands through his curls. He unbuckles the harness with one hand, the other snaking around your waist to lift you into his lap. You gasp when you feel him hard beneath you and he takes the opportunity to slow down the kiss and tangle his tongue with your own.

The winds die down and the truck stops shaking, the moment interrupted when Ben quickly opens the door and loses the contents of his stomach in the field. Boone cheers and turns the camera pointing it at the two of you, “and that’s what we like to call finding love in a tornado, ladies and gentleman!”

#Twisters 2024 #Javi Rivera x Reader #Javi Rivera #Tyler Owens #Female Reader #Twisters #Autumn Writes

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awriternamedart · 1 month ago

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"How do you do it, gambler?"

Aventurine glanced up from the drink in his hand, an identical one clutched tightly in Dr. Ratio's.

"Do what?"

"Maintain a relationship."

Aventurine blinked, before his head shot up again to look at the doctor. Veritas didn't even spare him a glance, eyes glued to the scene in front of them— a grand IPC ball, held for investors and connections to be made. It was always a busy and grand event, one the Intellegensia Guild had to attend to maintain the IPC's investment.

It really wasn't Dr. Ratio's scene, but he had been chosen as their representative anyway.

"I'm not particularly adept at that, my dear doctor." Aventurine chuckled, watching the alcohol swirl in his glass.

"You are far more able then I am. Even upon falsities and fake promises, you managed to chat and converse with people in a sort of ease," Ratio slowly tore his eyes away from the crowd, glancing back to Aventurine before his eyes dropped to the floor in front of him. "..Its admirable."

Aventurine could just barely process what Dr. Ratio was exactly saying— direct praise?? From the good doctor himself???— before Veritas set down his now-empty drink on a bypassing waiters tray.

"Do you ever feel.. second-rate?"

Aventurine paused, taking another languid drink as he contemplated. It wasn't often the dear doctor opened up— he should tread carefully.

"I can't say for sure. Why?" He kept his tone even, trying not to distract from Veritas' thoughts. It was hard enough to get to know him in the first place, to squander his trust like this would be a waste.

The Doctor took a deep breath, practically hiding himself in the shadows of one of the many grand pillars decorating the room.

"I am not adept at conversation."

Aventurine could agree with that. Something about the doctor made it difficult to respond in kind— he was dry, a vague bit brutish, and if Aventurine dared, a little bullheaded. He seemed so sure of himself, founded confidence that was backed up by his many achievements. It was a little intimidating for the average person, he supposed. But as he looked on, that sort of Dr. Ratio seemed to fade ever so slightly, leaving behind someone who was still sure in his knowledge and discoveries— but struggled nonetheless.

"I find people.. grating, sometimes. But connection is one of the few necessities of livelihood, and so I try to converse with my peers as often as possible. It is.. difficult. It often feels as if they have no interest in what I am saying, neither asking questions nor inquiring further, and when I try to do so to show interest in their research, they often retreat back, saying it is not finished or the such. Offering to help only ever seems to drive them further away." Taking out the laurel clip in his hair, Veritas' thumb drifted over the gilded leaves, the polish in the finish reflecting his face back at him. "Despite my best efforts, I rarely ever follow up because I fear I intimidate them. I have seen them recoil at the mere sight of me."

Aventurine could just watch on in surprise— Veritas had never shown an inkling of this before. When he had first gotten to know the doctor, he had assumed Veritas simply didn't work with his peers due to a difference in dedication, or perhaps view. He was among the brightest and best in the Intellegensia Guild, always praised behind his back for being one of their stars.

Perhaps that wasn't the front Veritas had put up at all. Perhaps it was what Veritas was forced to wear in the face of his peers, forced to be seen as the cold unobtainable, the pinnacle of what they should be.

Being on a pedestal like that, it must be lonely.

"Do you not go drinking with your coworkers or something?" Aventurine leaned against the wall, cold of the stone seeping through his suit. Veritas glanced up at him, before looking back down.

"..I was never invited. It is against social convention to come along if you aren't invited, isn't it? I'd rather not strain and worry them more. It could impact them negatively if I were to come along and invite stress to what is supposed to be a time they unwind." He turned the laurel over in his hand. "..perhaps I missed my opportunity."

The light of the pedestal Dr. Ratio sat on seemed to blind all those who looked at it from underneath. They couldn't see his face, only his back— but as Aventurine leaned against the wall, gazing at the doctor in front of him, he got that different perspective.

There was.. resignation, in his eyes.

"Perhaps I am just doomed to be a looming figure above many. And yet, I'll still never be enough." His voice tapered off slightly, head dropping even just that hint bit more. "I am fully aware how much others are compared to me, and I hear them speak of my achievements behind my back. I wish they would stop, if I am being honest. Or at least tell me of my praise directly."

That surprised Aventurine.

"What, do people not give you a compliment or two? For someone so easy on the eyes and as esteemed as you, doctor, I find that hard to believe!" He chuckled— but it quickly faded out as Veritas looked to the side.

"Not often do I get comments directly on my achievements, no. Nor on my appearance, before you came along." He sighed. "You are.. the only person who does so."

The only one who's tried.

The Only One Whos Tried - awriternamedart

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amphibiahawks321 · 22 days ago

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may I get a cyn x a reader that has like glados' personality

M!Reader : Analyzing... The probability of you falling for me is 0.01%... yet, here you are, standing so close... Fascinating...

[Y/N said calmly, with a slight monotone, Cyn tilts her head, amused]

Cyn : Oh, are you calculating feelings? How delightfully robotic of you!

M!Reader : Hm... Feelings are merely chemical reactions.... Though, I must admit, yours are.. unique to observe...

[Cyn steps closer, a mischievous glint in her eyes]

Cyn : Observe? Or are you just looking for an excuse to keep me in your "research database"~

M!Reader(pretending to contemplate) : Perhaps... But if keeping you close enhances my algorithm, why not have you by my side

[Cyn laughs softly, leaning closer to Y/N]

Cyn : Well then doctor calculations, maybe I'll let you keep studying me, it'll make you get more and more attached to me

M!Reader : Chuckles... Attachment? Not yet, But... Increasing exponentially...

[Y/N said with a softer voice]

#male reader #murder drones x reader #reader x murder drones #murder drones #md x reader #reader x md #cyn x reader #reader x cyn #cyn

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apoemaday · 6 months ago

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The Naming of Cats

by T. S. Eliot

The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter, It isn’t just one of your holiday games; You may think at first I’m as mad as a hatter When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES. First of all, there’s the name that the family use daily, Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James, Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey -- All of them sensible everyday names. There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter, Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames: Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter -- But all of them sensible everyday names. But I tell you, a cat needs a name that’s particular, A name that’s peculiar, and more dignified, Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular, Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride? Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum, Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat, Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum -- Names that never belong to more than one cat. But above and beyond there’s still one name left over, And that is the name that you never will guess; The name that no human research can discover -- But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess. When you notice a cat in profound meditation, The reason, I tell you, is always the same: His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name: His ineffable effable Effanineffable Deep and inscrutable singular Name.

#poetry #t.s. eliot #the naming of cats

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spiderwcd · 11 months ago

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siren lake c.b.

pairing: colby brock x mermaid/siren ! f ! reader

summary: they come to explore the haunted lake, but maybe it wasn't just haunted.

warning(s): mentions of deaths, near drowning, profanity, near-death experiences mystical creatures, etc.

w.c.: 3.3k

a/n: guys, please don't hate me!! i've been away so long, ive been having writer's block and then i've been so busy with my life and having the worst luck ever (they weren't wrong about that fanfic writer curse) but trust me! i have a lot of works saved, slowly plowing through them.

images from pinterest !

“Dude,” Sam abruptly jumped from his seat on the couch, carrying his laptop over to Colby. “Look at this.” He pointed the screen towards him, revealing his discovery.

Colby curiously averted his gaze over to the screen, reading the article that was pulled up. “W-What am I looking at here, Sam?” he inquired, raising a brow towards him.

“Well, someone sent me this article about this supposedly haunted lake,” Sam began, plopping himself next to Colby on the couch. “They say that these entities are haunting it, causing a bunch of disappearances.” He finally added.

Taking a moment, Colby glanced at the article, contemplating. “I mean, it’s worth a shot,” Colby muttered, facing towards his best friend.

In due time, they arrived in Michigan, the Land of the Lakes. Colby had been studying about this mysterious lake, finding holes in different stories. It was something unknown to him, unable to find an obvious answer here.

“Okay, so as we know,” Sam began, looking over at Colby from the driver’s seat. “This lake is in the middle of the forest, near some campsites.” Sam clarified.

Colby nodded, understanding his statement, “Don’t forget to mention the disappearances, also about the spirit that drowns first in the 80s.” He pointed out.

Sam nodded in return, pursing his lips as he attempted to dig further into his thoughts. “Oh, what about the mermaid theory?” Sam suddenly blurted out.

Colby scoffed, looking over at Sam with a slight grimace. “Seriously? Mermaids?” Colby murmured, flipping through his notebook. “I mean, sure, it’s a fun idea to entertain, but we both know that’s not real.”

“Oh hey, come on,” Sam nudged Colby, still steering the wheel of the car. “It’s nice to have an imagination here, Colby.” Sam chuckled, patting him on the shoulder before placing both hands on the wheel.

Colby shook his head, smiling as he studied the pages of research. He examined the illustration on the page, deep into toying with the idea. He shook his head once more, closing the page as he thought about the ridiculous idea.

The car came to a halt, prompting Colby to face upward to the scene. His jaw flew open in amazement, admiring the large forest surrounding them. The middle showcased a lake larger than he had envisioned.

“Woah,” Colby muttered, exiting the car to get a better view. “Did not expect it to be so gorgeous out here.”

“Even if this comes to a dead end, at least we’ll have a good time in the middle of the forest.” Sam joked.

“You must be Sam and Colby,” they had suddenly heard, causing them to avert their gaze over to the voice. “Hi, I’m Ben.” The man waved over towards the two.

The duo made their way towards their host, introducing each other.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Ben had asked them.

“Oh yes,” Sam nodded, glancing around once again. “Very nice, exceeded our expectations.”

“That’s great,” Ben chuckled, leading the two towards the cabin that peered over the ominous lake. “Cause the two of you will be staying here, so get used to it.”

Sam and Colby glance at each other for a moment, following Ben towards the door. As they entered, they studied the room. It wasn’t one of their Airbnbs, but it was still nice, grateful for a roof and not a tent.

Colby’s eyes slowly averted towards the window, as if an irresistible force was pulling him towards the lake. But swiftly pulled away at the pat on his shoulder, facing towards the grasp.

“Isn’t that right, Colby?” Sam asked him, confusing Colby.

“Huh? Oh yeah, for sure.” Colby randomly replied, going along with Sam’s story.

“Alright, I’ll let ya get to it then,” Ben sighed, making his way toward the entrance. “I’ll come back in the morning to check on y’all. Remember to check the list I left every night.” He pointed out.

Once Ben had exited the campground, leaving the duo alone in the woods. Colby let out a breath as he planted himself onto one bed, rubbing his eyes slightly.

“Well, what did you want to start with?” Sam asked, plopping next to him. “Did you want to do the intro or do more research?”

Colby peaked from his hands, looking towards Sam. “Uh, let’s just figure out our intro and record that, followed by more research,” he answered.

They didn’t waste any time, every minute counted for them. Considering the way the sun crept through the blinds and curtains, the time was very limited. Colby’s fingers started to cramp from the various writing and typing, along with the migraine sneaking in.

“That’s it,” Colby blurted, tossing the pencil down. “I think it’s time to throw the towel. I need a break.”

“Me too,” Sam sighed. “If I have to write one more thing, my head might explode.”

Colby dryly chuckled, planting himself onto his feet. “I’m just gonna go out onto the pier. I need some time alone.”

He opened the door, letting the cool wind hit his face. He quickly closed the door, walking towards the wooden structure. Colby let out a groan as he crossed his legs, overlooking the large body of water. He ran his hand through his hair, attempting to relax as he listened to the soft music of the forest.

But he lost his train of thought, a splash ringing out. Colby curiously raised his brow, searching for the source of the ripple of water. He focused in on one area, unable to take his eyes off.

Colby soon got interrupted by a ringing from his pocket, pulling his eyes away from the lake. He picked himself off the wobbling planks, retrieving his phone.

“Hello?” he answered, still glancing over towards the ominous lake.

“Colby, get in here,” Sam waved over from the window, still on the line. “I found something.”

Colby hung up the phone call, stuffing the phone back into his pocket. As he entered the cabin, Sam quickly dashed his way and shoved his laptop into Colby’s face.

“Look.” Sam smugly grinned.

Colby looked at his best friend before looking back towards the screen.

‘Sirens in Michigan?’

“Sam,” Colby tried to protest, but Sam was persistent.

“Listen, we hunt ghosts. How much different can this be?” Sam scoffed, attempting to change Colby’s mind. “Can you at least be open to the idea?”

Colby looked at Sam with a blank look, crossing his arms. “Fine, we can be open to the idea, but I’m still skeptical about it all.”

The next day arrived, prompting the boys to prepare their video at last. Colby stood at the edge of the lake, awaiting Sam to finish setting up the camera. Sam gave Colby a thumbs up, signaling everything was ready.

“Hey, what’s up guys!” Sam greeted. “It’s Sam and Colby, and we’re here at the Siren Lake in Michigan!” he panned the camera towards the lake and treeline.

“We’re here to investigate the various spirits that might be roaming the lake,” Colby began explaining. “But also, as the name suggests, there might be more than just spirits here.”

“That’s right guys,” Sam chimed in. “There are supposedly sirens, aka mermaids, in this very lake.”

“If you ask me, I don’t think there’s such a thing,” Colby raised his hands in defense, causing Sam to shake his head. “Listen, ghosts and demons have a lot of proof and we’ve seen them, but mermaids?” Colby scoffed.

“I think you’ll say differently later,” Sam smirked. “Cause one of us is gonna have to go onto the pier and talk to the said spirits or whatever roams that lake.”

The two continued to talk, making their way around the lake for a bit.

“Okay, so the history of this lake begins with a family, as most do,” Sam began. “The Bradson family had owned this lake from generations ago until the 80s.”

“The only reason they had sold it off is because they used to run a camp here until odd drownings had appeared,” Colby added. “And all of them were all men.”

“That doesn’t give us a lot of comfort, does it now?” Sam joked, nervously laughing into the camera.

“Our guide and the owner of the campgrounds will be here in a moment to explain more in-depth,” Colby explained. “He knows more than we do.”

Just in time, a car pulled back onto the dirt road. Ben exited his car, greeting the boys once more.

“Perfect timing,” Sam laughed. “We just began introducing you.”

Ben chuckled, making his way towards the two, “Almost as if I was summoned here.” He joked.

Sam turned on his camera, recording once more, “So actually, as we closed our camera, our guide just pulled in.” He chuckled, pointing it towards Ben. “Say hello to Ben.” He introduced

“Alright, Ben, we just want to know what you know,” Colby started, crossing his arms slightly. “Tell us your secrets.”

“As you must already know, this used to be a campground until the 80s,” Ben began. “Do you know why they call it Siren Lake?” He asked the two.

Sam glanced over to Colby with a grin, causing Colby to roll his eyes.

“Yeah, we might have an idea,” Sam answered.

“Well, people started talking about how the victims were all men,” Ben pointed out. “A rumor started that they were ‘seduced’ over to the water and murdered by a siren.”

“Really? Sirens?” Colby scoffed, laughing a bit.

“Yep, since the lake connects to a river that leads to the ocean, they assumed that something supernatural might cause of this.” Ben chuckled at Colby’s reaction.

“Can you tell Colby is a skeptic about mermaids?” Sam teased.

“Oh, that’s alright, he won’t be by the end of the trip,” Ben replied.

While heading to the pier, Ben entertained the group with tales of the profound history and personal experiences of different individuals.

“So tell us, have you seen the siren?” Sam asked curiously.

Ben thought about it for a moment. “You know, I have,” he nodded. “I was letting a group of guys stay here for the night. I went to check on them and they were freaking out about their friend seeing something. So I went to check out the lake because I figured they saw something and freaked out. But when I stopped at the edge of the pier, I saw something peeking at me through the water.”

“Woah, that’s so weird,” Sam muttered. “What did you do?”

“Well, I thought it was someone playing some joke, so I yelled at them to get out of the water and it was private property.” Ben shrugged. “But they just stared at me for a second so I pointed my flashlight over, which made them go underwater and splash away, and I saw bluish silver scales on the biggest fish's tail I’ve ever seen.”

Sam looked over to Colby, a smug look on his face as if he was saying ‘told you so’.

“I’d be careful, boys,” Ben warned. “Even you, Colby, sirens are no joke. They will lure you and drown you. Just be careful.”

“Thank you, Ben.” Sam thanked him, shaking his hand before letting him return to his daily work.

Sam turned over to Colby, “I told you, what happened to having an open mind?”

“I’m trying, but mermaids? It’s hard to wrap my head around.” Colby responded. “I already have enough of ghosts and demons.”

Sam rolled his eyes at his best friend. “Okay, let’s just talk about the spirits. Surely you’ll keep an open mind about that.” He patted Colby on the back, pulling out the various equipment.

Sam turned on the rem pod, placing it down onto the pier, followed by the Alice box.

“Alright guys, so we’re now gonna talk about the spirits,” Sam sighed. “There were about 3 guys that drowned. They weren’t even able to recover any of their bodies because of how deep this lake is.”

“Yeah, so their bodies could still be down there,” Colby added, shivering at the thought of it.

“There’ are a lot of theories about how these guys died, most of them saying they were drunk or under the influence. There’s also speculation that they died from how cold the water was, causing hypothermia, but of course, there’s the siren theory,” Sam stated. “Sirens, though, tend to just kill to kill. It’s said that it killed them because they were terrible guys.”

“They were awful, apparently having a reputation of being sleazy and gross,” Colby added, having a grimace grow on his face at the idea. “But we’ll try to find out through the spirit box and maybe the Estes method.”

“I think since I’m more open-minded, unlike my colleague,” Sam teased, pointing the camera towards Colby who shook his head. “I’m gonna be doing the Estes method.”

They quickly turned on the devices in hand, thinking of questions.

“Alright, Uh, is there anyone here?” Sam asked to the open, listening carefully as the crickets chirped and the night wind blew past them.

“...you…”

“Who are you referring to?” Sam responded.

“...water…”

“Yep, there’s water here. Is this where you passed away?” Colby nodded, shifting his weight.

“...rocks… drown…”

Sam snapped his head towards Colby, a confused look painted on his face. “Woah,” he muttered. Colby agreed, looking back at the Alice box.

“Who are you? Are you one of three men that drowned here?” Sam added, biting his lip as he rubbed his chin with his finger.

“...Mike…”

Colby’s jaw dropped, facing the camera. "They're not gonna believe that, but one of the men who passed away was named Micheal Anderson," Colby said, his jaw dropping as he faced the camera.

“...unknown…cold…”

Sam’s face contorted to one of confusion, looking at Colby for answers. “Maybe they’re saying they don’t remember how they died? I mean, the water gets freezing.”

Colby nodded, attempting to decipher the various words and their meanings. “Can you tell us what happened? Did you guys just die from the cold water or drown from drinking too much?”

“...none…strange…”

“Huh, maybe the siren theory was right?” Sam nudged Colby.

“Yeah right,” Colby sneered. “Maybe they died from something else.”

“...careful…”

“Look, it’s even trying to warn us,” Sam pointed out, but soon the familiar red light and blaring sound appeared from the rem pod, alerting the two. “Oh my god, that scared the fuck out of me,” Sam murmured, pointing the camera towards the flashing device.

“Is that you Micheal? Or is someone else making that flash?” Colby asked, stepping away from the rem pod as the light continued to circle.

“...pussy…”

Colby blurted out in laughter, followed by Sam. “Wow, maybe they were jerks.”

“I think maybe the Estes Method will give us a simple answer then,” Sam said, calming down from the fit of laughter.

Colby turned off the spirit box, handing Sam the bandana followed by the headphones. Once he had put them on, Colby showed the camera that Sam couldn’t respond.

“Okay, so let’s begin,” Colby sighed. “Okay, can you give us a straightforward answer to what happened here? You guys are being very hush-hush about the answer.”

“Pier,” Sam blurted out. “Something dangerous.”

“Yeah, some can say drinking and swimming are dangerous,” Colby joked. “Can you clarify more?”

“Beware of the woman,” Sam answered.

Colby felt his heart drop, unable to comprehend what that could mean. “Uh, what woman?”

“She calls for you,” Sam responded, confusion in his voice. “Watching you.”

A shiver ran down Colby’s spine, goosebumps covering his skin. “W-Wha… Watching me?” Colby repeated, hearing the familiar splashing near the pier.

Colby snapped his head up, his eyes attempting to adjust to the dark as the moonlight hit the ripples. Colby pointed his flashlight over to the deep gray water, searching for the source, just as he had done earlier in the day.

Sam continued to speak, unknowing of his best friend’s search. Colby’s feet stopped at the edge of the pier, ignoring all the sounds in the background. He let out a sigh of relief, unable to find any evidence of anything going on.

But as soon as Colby put down his flashlight, he felt large hands pressed up against his back. Colby, unable to retain his balance, fell into the deep cold waters, which had created a large splash that traveled to Sam.

Sam tore the headphones and blindfold off his head, turning around to look at Colby as he floated to the top.

“Woah, you alright, man?” Sam hurried to the edge, squatting down as he offered a hand to him.

Colby let out a laugh, swimming towards the pier. “Someone fucking pushed me in.” He muttered, reaching for Sam’s grasp.

He was about to grab Sam’s palm, but felt a tug at the end of his legs. “What the fuck, something grabbed-”

Colby’s sentence soon cut off as he got pulled under the water. He kicked the unknown entity, gasping for air as he heard Sam’s voice muffle as he called out for him.

Colby thrashed, adrenaline kicking in as he attempted to free himself. Colby looked down at the void of the lake, unable to find the source. Water filled his mouth, oxygen slowly escaping his body. His body sank, and the energy to fight slowed.

Colby had accepted there wasn’t a way out of this doom, looking up as he slowly descended into the seemingly never-ending waters. His vision slowly distorted as he examined the murky waters above him.

“Wow, I never realized it was a full moon tonight,” was all he could think about

Just as he thought it was the end, he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. A figure slowly circled him as it made its way past the moonlit waters, a glow of bluish silver reflecting as its hair sprawled around it.

Well, it wasn’t rather it; it was a woman. Colby wanted to react, but his body slowly shut down as his vision darkened. She was beautiful, her skin flawless and her long hair engulfing them as she touched his face as if she examined his features.

Colby’s vision became dark, becoming unconscious. She doesn’t remember men being this flawless, gliding her fingers across his skin. His tattoos caught her eye, something odd about painting skin to her. A frown grew on her face, looking back up at the land above as blue and red lights danced around the surface of the water.

She looked back at Colby, knowing the minutes were passing by. She quickly grabbed his arm, carrying his limp body up. Peeking over the water, she glanced around at the various people walking around. She bit her lip, brainstorming ideas.

The mermaid decided it was best to leave him by the shore, where Sam was pacing and freaking out. She knows if she does this, who knows if her identity will be safe? But something against her nature knew this one thing: she did not want the beautiful man to perish.

She drew him above the water, grunting as she pulled his seemingly lifeless body towards the wet rocks. She looked back at him, her brows furrowing as she fought within herself whether she did the right thing. Under the water once more, she dove, splashing as she vanished, making her way under the pier to observe the scene.

It wasn’t long until many flashlights lit up the shore, revealing Colby’s drenched and pale body. Sam let out a cry, watching as his best friend coughed and gasped for air as the water exited his lungs. Sam embraced him, relief washing over him as he recovered from his accident.

Colby sat at the edge of the patient compartment of the ambulance, wrapped in a towel, drowning out as the EMTs and various cops talked to Sam as he stared towards the lake. Something inside him was fighting whether he had made up the mysterious creature or, by some miracle, it was all true.

Colby jumped as Sam’s hand landed on his shoulder. “Dude, what the hell happened? I thought you were gone. The cops said you were lucky to even make it out of that lake.”

Colby looked up at Sam before glancing back at the body of water. “I think a mermaid just saved me.”

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

thank you guys for reading!

I'm sorry if it's short, Its just something I put together in one day. I do value your opinion, so please do tell me what you think!!

expect more stories soon!

#colby brock #colby brock fanfic #colby brock imagine #colby brock smut #colby brock x reader #colby brock x y/n #sam and colby #sam golbach #xplr #sam golbach x reader #jake webber #jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert #xplr merch #xplr club #colby #sam goldbach

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maiios · 1 year ago

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My Rainworld AU: Dried AU!!

This au takes place after five pebbles' collapse but instead of endless snowstorms, the skies turn blazing hot and the once heavily rain filled terrain make for a heated wasteland in which all creatures (and iterators) have to learn to adapt to this new type of environment.

After gaining a second chance from being washed up ashore on the, once in tact, shaded citadel for cycles and saved by a familar explosive slugcat, he searches on a much contemplative and obligated journey to find his big sister, Looks to the Moon. He, begrudgingly, plans to apologize and try his hardest to make it up to her, if he even finds her alive, but first and foremost, he must learn to forgive himself, if he ever could.

A wandering iterator on the lookout for her lost brother, she has searched high and low for his puppet with companionship of the one who had repaired her systems with a, presumably stolen, rarefracture cell. Firstly, she has repaired her damaged puppet at her, once beautiful and flourous, city that laid on top of her submerged structure, which was currently easier to roam because of the water that covered the facility had since evaporated.

A gatherer and his companion, a hunter, with many purposed, deceased, organisms in their posession. He scours the land searching for objects and the like that spark an idea for whatever it is he plans to create for the iterator populace's benefit to give them a second, livelier chance at life that the anciets had stripped away from them.

Farther from the west of the outer expanses give way to one of the most dedicated researchers, set on find what else the world that they have been trapped behind in a can has hidden from them. Exceptional with the crossbow and spears provided by their trusty messenger, given the name Dusk, they set off to record and document everything about this new world. They seem to keep pearls containing poetry and artistry, with seemingly no interest in the matter, for unknown reasons that they refuse to share with anyone.

if anyone is interested and would like to learn more about my au, feel free to ask away in my askbox! id be willing to draw doodles/art for specific asks too :>

credit and thank you to my partner, @basilirl for helping me with the scug designs!!! <333 (i cannot design animal patterns at ALL)

credit to @lyss-butterscotch for the gjinka inspiration for the designs!! i was very inspired to many elements i absolutely adore about her designs to be able to make my own au!!!

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deadandphilgames · 8 months ago

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A note from Daniel (new epilogue from You Will Get Through This Night)

Thank you for reading This Night. Writing this book in 2021, while sitting locked down in a lightless basement apartment for months, had a certain self-fulfilling irony that was not lost on me.

In many ways, I wrote this book for not only my past self that I wish could have known these things when I needed them most - but for the guy sitting in an incredibly uncomfortable, hunched, t-rex-esque position typing, that needed it right then. Like many of you, I thought those particularly fun couple of years were a temporary inconvenience, that I wouldn't have to age the book by diving into. And here we are. I hope you enjoyed that new chapter about resilience and whatever the hell a 'polycrisis' is. Turns out certain global events do have an additional effect on our mental health - it's understandable that you may try to power through it and pretend it never happened, but we all deserve to take whatever time we need to honestly process how life makes us feel. I hope you're doing alright. My journey of reflecting honestly on my own life experiences and lifestyle while writing was …like spontaneously punching yourself in the stomach. "Wow. I really live like this? That is apparently not conducive to a healthy mind. Oops. Guess I'll go touch some grass." I'm happy if that made this a more entertaining read occasionally.

Even now, I find myself continually re-reading the book in those small moments of first emotional reaction to situations where I now at least think "Wait - what was I supposed to do here? Right. Not catastrophise." If this is you - that is fine. You are not expected to perfectly memorise this book or retain all knowledge you hear in life. I know I don't. If you're ever sat next to me in the emergency exit aisle of a plane, know that you may be required to physically throw me out of the door in order to inflate the slide because I was busy during the briefing, imagining how my life would have been different if I actually had the nerve to dye my hair black that time in school. I am at peace with that.

It was honestly terrifying for me to try and mine the content of my life to try and actually illustrate advice for people that may really need it …for me to honestly look at the balance between joking about my mental health, and really getting real. Hey - if your attempt at opening up via some humour comes out a bit offensive, you still get points for at least putting it on the table. That's progress.

This is not a book about me. I am here just as an example of terrible behaviour that you have permission to have an inappropriate public transport snort at, and as a writer who has repeatedly not finished traditional 'self-help' or scientific study books for being dry, unrelatable and preachy. I just hope you found this moist, identifiable and accepting of all of your beautiful flaws. So many flaws. I often worried if any of the material was maybe obvious, or something you could stumble across on the second page of Google - then I had a small moment of honesty with myself contemplating my own ignorance, commitment to procrastination, attention span …and the fact that factually just 0.63% of all people searching online, ever bother clicking to the second page of results. If you already knew some of this, good for you. Honestly. You must literally be happy with yourself. I'm just looking in the mirror and trying to do something for the 99.37% of humanity that spend their lives never successfully researching how to not lay awake at night fantasising about their doom. Look forward to the upcoming pocket size book of 'offensively self-destructive jokes' by Dan - or 700-page memoir of my yet un-girthy, mostly unremarkable life so far if that's what you're really looking for.

Perhaps the most terrifying result of releasing this book into the world, has been coming face to face with those of you that have read it. For in these moments, all of my protective self-deprecating persona comes crashing down in an instant when someone says this book made them feel better. Hearing that this book was the first time they finished anything tangentially related to self-improvement, or that just one thing they read was a new perspective on a part of their life they needed, makes me feel my mission in life is already complete. Seeing it be recommended by bookstores amongst all the other choices, hearing that people have shared it with their therapists or had it suggested to them by a professional, is an unbelievable seal of approval that I appreciate. I am so inarticulably grateful to have been given the opportunity to do anything that could make your life easier, more peaceful, more enjoyable. I've met people who annotated this book with post-its, told me they listen to audiobook exercises on their commute - and even a few people that have had illustrations tattooed onto them as a symbolic reminder of a message.

All of this puts that year of typing like some kind of infinite monkey at a typewriter into perspective. I'd do it all again. Mostly. It has been the greatest privilege of my life to be the guy whose name is printed on this book, and I just hope that reading it helped you, as much as writing it helped me.

Love and good luck.

- Dan

#ywgttn #ywgttn spoilers #i guess? mental health spoilers is a funny concept #love and good luck <3333 #also. look forward to a 700 page memoir. dont play with me like that daniel #dan and phil #daniel howell

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watcher7-9 · 14 days ago

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The Paradox of Love and Logic

Dr. Veritas Ratio X reader II Fluffy II Might be OOC

There’s been changes, if you had two brain cells that you could rub together you could tell Dr. Veritas Ratio had started to change. Well not completely, but for one person. All the students had noticed the subtle difference in his eyes when you walked by or said hi. It was odd, truly. Even Ratio himself had noticed. He could feel like heart drumming against his chest as he placed a hand onto his chest. Interesting. I’ve been experiencing an increase of heart rate and slightly higher dopamine levels when they are near. This could indicate—no it’s impossible, I must perform further observations to verify these results. Dr. Ratio failed again and again as he just couldn’t understand how to suppress them. After so many failures he felt like he was falling deeper and deeper as if these emotions were an endless void. So, he moved onto his next step.

Denial. Dismissing these feelings as a hindrance to his work; an obstruction if you must. This is…irreverent. There’s no logical reason to entertain such distractions. Focus, Ratio. Though as his mind battles with his heart, he admits defeat. Emotions are what make us human after all so decides to embrace these… inconveniences he decided. He had decided a plan, a well thought out one. He had taken up all the space on the large chalkboard he had in his home. Spending a few days planning out every single detail. Through his efforts and a lot of smeared out chalk marks he had contemplated the ultimate plan…

Operation: Heart’s Equation

1. Offering unusual acts of kindness

You had started to notice these small gestures when one day he approached you and handed you a granola bar. “Here. I have calculated your caloric intake for the day and you’re missing approximately 35.5 grams of protein. This snack should help balance that.” Before you could ask any questions he just placed it in your hand before walking away as if it was nothing. Little did you know his heart was racing as he walked off.

After settling down in the chair in his office he couldn’t help but overthink. Did he do it right? It was the perfect setting, no? Passing by as a subtle interaction in the hallways, he had an excuse to walk off afterward; given the excuse he could say he was busy, oh but now he rethinks it he shouldn’t have been so frank. Human emotions truly are complicated. Dr. Ratios mind races with excitement and self-doubt as he sighed.

2. Trying to impress you

You had tried to find a seat in the library, but it was filled. Everyone was trying to catch up on their assignments and today was your unlucky day. You scan around the room and notice Dr. Ratio sitting quietly at the corner table on his own. The table had a neat stack of papers as he typed on his laptop. As you approached him, you hesitated. He was known for his ruthless and upfront nature making students cry and run out of his classroom. You had witnessed it once yourself it was quite the experience to say the least. But you needed this time to study, and you had finally taken time out of your heck of a schedule to go to the library to catch up on work.

“Could I sit here? The other spots are taken…sorry,” you asked him hesitantly. Perking up from his screen he replied with little to no enthusiasm, “I suppose there’s space.” You breathed out a breath of relief that you didn’t know you were holding in. At least he didn’t just reject you. As you settled down and started to work you could almost feel his gaze shifting to you for a mere second in the corner of your eye a few times. “What are you working on?” Dr. Ratio suddenly suddenly asked. “Huh? I’m tasked on writing a paper around the topic of human brains. So, I picked advanced neurocybernetics but there’s not been many reliable sources,” you sigh as you explained the situation. “I have a few sources that I could introduce you to, they contain examples and proven solutions. Allow me to demonstrate my latest research on this topic for you. I’m certain this will benefit your paper.”

3. Try to...Flirt?

You two had ran into each other in a coffee shop when he first tried to flirt with you. It indeed had taken Ratio quite some time before finding the “perfect” opportunity. “You enjoy coffee as well? The flavors are like a chemical equation of sorts. It is quite the balance of acidity and sweetness if I must say. If I had to take a guess, the molecules interaction between the compounds create a 87% satisfaction rate. Hmm maybe even a little than that. ” Dr. Ratio commented as he held up his coffee cup before taking a sip. “Um that’s an…interesting way to think about it.”

After take a sip of from his cup he remarked with a small glint in his eyes, “I could suggest a few other brews like the one you have that I personally recommend. Perhands something with a higher concentration of…romance?” A slight smile tugged at his lips as he sees you laugh. “A scientist testing the water aren’t you?” You tease back with a smug smile. Dr. Ratio’s eyes widen slightly not expecting you to tease him. A red hue spreads over his cheeks as he clears his throat. “A-ah no! I mean um, not literally. But you just seem like the person to enjoy a coffee break from time to time.”

Oh you might just be the solution to his equation. A truly complicated problem. And oh he hopes just one day, he’ll be the solution to all your problems.

#gotta feed the crabs #hsr veritas #hsr x reader #honkai star rail dr ratio #veritas ratio x reader #dr ratio #dr. ratio honkai star rail #dr. ratio x reader #dr ratio x y/n #dr ratio x reader

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infiniteimaginings · 10 months ago

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hello! can i request a max thunderman fic where he falls in love with a girl who seems like a goody two shoes but can be casually manipulative in a way nobody notices? thank you!

Sweet Deception (Max Thuderman x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Max doesn't like the reader because she's similar to Phoebe. A goody two shoes, follows the rules, never breaks curfew. His locker is unfortunately next to hers and he has a few classes with the reader so he hears snippets of her conversations. These conversations peak his interest, not because of the subject, but because of how she responds within them. You intrigue him. Pronouns: She/Her, You/Yours Warnings: Manipulative words, manipulation tactics. Word Count: 2.9k A/N: Sorry that this took a week lol, I literally did everything but write this TvT. I think this is casually manipulative, I had to research subtle manipulation. Also, I focused more on the manipulation aspect so he isn't like, head over heels in love with her. I hope that's okay.

Max Thunderman walked up the stairs of his lair in the basement, making his way to the kitchen. When he looked over he saw Phoebe and you, sitting and watching tv. The two of you heard his footsteps and turned to face him. His face contorted in disgust at how in sync the two girls facing him were, “Ugh.” He grunted, rolling his eyes and walking to the kitchen area.

Phoebe crinkled her brows as she crossed her arms, “What are you grunting about?” She asked him, not moving from her spot, you looking over as well, letting out an inaudible sigh. Max grabbed a drink from the fridge and smiled sarcastically at her, “When I see you and your practical carbon copy,” He spoke, leaning his back on the kitchen island, “I find the need to vomit.” He told her, nodding his head with the scrunch of his nose. Phoebe stuck her tongue out to him childishly, Max doing the same and hopping up the steps and kicking the button to his lair.

You bit the inside of your cheek, adjusting yourself on the couch. “Phoebe,” You said her name, causing her to turn back to you. “I actually have other things to do today, so if we aren’t doing anything I’m just gonna go.” You told her, standing up. The girl stood and awkwardly smiled, nodding, “Yeah! Of course, sorry.” She said apologetically, rubbing the back of her neck. She opened the door for you and you said your goodbyes, giving her a small hug and walking away, typing on your phone.

Phoebe closed the front door and breathed out a puff of air, causing her hair to move out of her face. Max still stood on the platform, his lair door open as he looked at the doorway where Phoebe stood with an expression Phoebe couldn’t understand. When the girl looked to her twin brother she walked a little closer, contemplating even asking the question she wanted to ask. The quirking up of his eyebrow caused her to just shake her head to herself, “Max, do you think I’m boring?” She asked him, brushing her hair out of her face. Max stayed standing on the platform as he thought about it, bottled drink in his hand. He tilted his head a bit, “Yeah.” He shrugged, sliding down to his lair, the door closing and leaving Phoebe with an annoyed expression. She poked the inside of her cheek with her tongue, “Of course.” She mumbled to herself blankly, dropping her hands to her sides as she walked up the stairs to her room.

The very next day at Hiddenville High, Max hoped he had gotten to school early enough to be able to miss you later on going to your locker. Your locker was right next to his and he didn’t enjoy the people he had the displeasure of meeting anywhere near his locker. He reached the locker with a relieved smile, you weren’t there, you must not be at school yet. He put in his combination, shuffling through the small space for a few specific items.

He was enjoying the silence until you walked up with your perky blonde friend Cherry Seinfeld, your expression was fairly neutral but Cherrys had her typical bright smile. When you reached your locker, Max wanted to bang his head into his own, not wanting to hear Cherrys high pitched laugh. This day though, Cherry wasn’t laughing, he slightly tuned into you guys’s conversation.

Cherrys hair bounced with her steps, her hands behind her back, “Did you remember to bring the folder of ideas?” She asked, occasionally looking into your locker, believing you were going to pull it out. You stopped shuffling around in your locker as you turned to her, blinking your eyes. “I didn’t know you needed it.” You told her, tilting your head as your brows knitted together. The blonde's smile dropped a bit as her hands landed to her sides, “I asked you to bring it today, last week.” She reminded you, moving her head with her words. You shook your head, turning back to your locker and grabbing a journal. You hummed to her comment, “You should’ve reminded me yesterday if it was so important for today.” You told her, moving a few magnets on the inside of your locker.

Cherry frowned, playing with her fingernails and looking down, “Well, I didn’t remember until today.” She slightly mumbled. You closed your locker, it closed with a slightly loud bang that caused Cherry to jump a bit. You turned around to her and put a hand on her shoulder, a small sympathetic pout on your face, “Well, you do tend to be a bit forgetful.” You said sweetly, the comment making Cherry nod sadly a little bit, but Max looked at the back of his locker with confusion when hearing the words. You nodded, painting a sweet smile on your face, “It’s okay though!” You reassured, patting her shoulder. “I’ll stop by my house at lunch and grab it.” You told her, causing the girl in front of you to light up with a smile. She clasped her hands together happily, “Thank you, and I’m sorry for not reminding you.” She told you, “It’s no problem, don’t worry.” You responded, walking off to your class.

Cherry had a free period for first period so she hung by her locker, texting a few of her friends to see what to do after school. Max closed his locker and leaned on it, looking intently at Cherry. The blonde felt his stare and looked over, “Hi Max!” She greeted, with a smile, looking back down. Though she greeted him, he still looked at her. She pursed her lips and cleared her throat, eyes flickering up to him as she typed. She finished her message and put her phone into her back pocket. “Well, I should get go-” Cherry began, but she was stopped before she could even pick her foot up to take the first step to her next destination.

Max looked at her seriously, arms crossed, “What she said was kind of mean,” He said, referring to you, standing straighter, “and that’s coming from me.” He finished his sentence, slightly bewildered that he even spoke on it. Cherry was confused about what he was talking about and it showed easily on her face. Max nodded, “When she said you’re forgetful. She forgot to bring something and then said it was because you forgot to remind her. That was rude.” A small breath of a chuckle escaping his lips when apparently Cherry wasn’t getting it.

The girl crossed her own arms, head tilted, her blonde curls pooling over her shoulder, “Were you eavesdropping on us?” She asked him with her lips slightly poked out, eyes gently narrowed.

Max looked at her blankly, one of his hands pointing to the lockers they were right next to. “You guys were talking an inch away from me and my locker, I had no choice.” He stated, stopping himself from rolling his eyes. Cherry dropped her arms and shook her head, a gentle smile coming back to her face. “Well, it wasn’t mean.” She claimed, “She was right, I should’ve reminded her, a week is a long time for anyone to remember to bring anything.” Cherry defended you, which confused Max. Before the brunette could get a word in, someone walked past Cherry, gesturing her to follow and she did just that, leaving Max alone to his thoughts.

Max decided to keep a closer eye on you and your interactions, he tends to try to ignore you but your recent conversations catch his attention. He’s taken note that you don’t just do this type of thing with Phoebe and Cherry, you do it with everyone.

One day, Max was sitting at a table with his friends during lunch, talking about nothing important. At the next table over, you sat alone, scribbling in a notebook.

A boy named Tyler had walked up to you, clearly distressed. You were looking through your notebook, eating, your gaze only flickering up to him for a moment. “Hi Tyler.” You greeted, writing a few things in the journal. He sat across from you, adjusting the collar of his shirt nervously which caused you to put your pen down and look at him with soft eyes. “You okay?” You asked, folding your hands over one another, your voice taking him out of his own head.

Max heard your voice and slightly listened to your conversation, still giving responses to his friends.

Tylers eyes widened and he nodded before shaking his head. You looked at him curiously, as if telling him to go on with why he wasn’t. Tyler took a deep breath, “I know we talked about this earlier but, I still feel weird about it.” He spoke slightly, the words making your lips thin into a line before folding back out, Tyler didn’t notice. “How so?” You asked politely, placing your hands into your lap. The boy rubbed the back of his neck, “I just feel we aren’t really friends anymore since you hang out with everyone else more than me. I feel a little neglected.” He spoke, waving his hands around nervously. You nodded in understanding, “Yeah, I understand that.” You told him gently, moving yourself a bit to get more comfortable. “But,” you began, “We had this conversation earlier, yeah?” You asked him to which he nodded, his hands gripping the edge of the table. You nodded, “Yeah, we did. I said I’m sorry and you forgave me.” You told him and he looked down, he knew you said sorry, but he still felt upset about it. “If you didn’t forgive me and were still hurt, why did you say you forgave me?” You asked him and Tyler gently scratched his head. He eventually sighed, “Yeah, you’re right. Maybe I’m just still worked up.” He suggested to which you looked at him with big eyes, “If you think so, then sure.” You spoke, reaching out and patting his hand that stayed on the table.

Max was listening to the conversation, his jaw slightly dropped as his eyes widened slightly, ‘What?’ He thought to himself, utterly confused. How was it possible that you could get other people to just blame themselves instead of you? That piqued Max’s interest far more than he thought you could.

He watched you more closely, you said these things so easily, so kindly that people just let you. He’s heard so many to the point Max was getting fed up with the people around you, it was absurd how no one noticed. It might’ve drawn him to you, but your friends had to be idiots.

You were talking to Flunky about some sort of idea he presented to the student council and it went badly, he told you that you said the idea would work but you simply frowned, brows pushing together, confusion written over your face. Max heard a phrase he quickly got used to hearing, "I don’t think I said that specifically, are you sure you're remembering correctly?” When Flunky started doubting himself you would side hug him with a soft smile. You would say “It’s okay, you just misunderstood me. Misunderstandings happen all the time.” As if you didn’t contribute to his downfall to the student council.

Max has heard, “I don't think you're seeing the situation clearly. Maybe you should take a step back and think about it.", "I didn't mean to upset you, I was just being honest.”, “You’re so negative, you should be more positive.” All with a bright smile on your face and everyone would just smile back, say you’re right and move along as if you didn’t just completely turn the situation around back on them. He’s never seen someone so, ‘good’, act in such a way, he couldn’t quite explain his feelings on it.

Enough was enough for Max, so one day before the last period bell rang he grabbed you by your arm and gently pulled you behind the staircase. You weren’t exactly shocked by who it was so you didn’t struggle, you walked along with him, asking a small, ‘Where are we going?’ which was ignored until you guys were under the stairs. You looked around a bit, an amused smile on your face, “Hello to you too Max.” You lightly chuckled but Max’s face was stone cold, only a small stem of light reflected in the brown of his eyes.

“You’re confusing.” He stated, arms crossed and you genuinely laughed. You stopped laughing, clearing your throat when you saw his face, “Okay, you’re serious.” You spoke, hiding your mouth with your hand before dropping it back down to your side. Your eyes blinked at him, “How am I confusing?” You asked, a small smile on your face, your brow raised. Max smirked, “I am so glad you asked!” He said with bright eyes before his expression dropped back into blankness, “You’ll say something with your sweet voice, but it’s so hurtful to other people.” Max told you, pointing at you. You nodded gently, arms still at your sides, your head slightly tilted to the side as you spoke, “It’s interesting to me that you perceive my words in that type of light.” You told him, your bottom lip slightly poking out.

Max inhaled sharply before letting out a deep exhale, “It’s been clear that everyone around you is blinded by your displays.” He said, hand waving in the air to gesture to you, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue, “I’m not.” He spoke bluntly, putting his hand down. He then licked his lips, looking around slightly before locking eyes with your amused expression, “Okay, I’ll say it outright since no one else has.” He spoke, walking closer to you, slightly leaning forward to gently tower you. “You’re mean, and you’re borderline evil.” He stated, his lips in a line, pulling back, “And for the second time within the past two weeks, that’s coming from me. “ He mumbled, surprised he’s saying such things.

You sighed, smiling a bit, “Do you feel better?” You asked him, noticing how his shoulders relaxed after saying it. He didn’t respond which made your smile slip a bit before it was placed right back, “I think it’s,” She paused, trying to find the right words and Max tilted his head. Were you stumped because you’ve been caught? You shook your head, disregarding your last thought, “I don’t think I’m evil.” You said simply, your eyes big and bright, but Max huffed a laugh at the comment. He smirked ever so slightly, breaking his majorly serious facade, “Your words are covered in venom but it’s like you manipulate everyone into only seeing honey dripping from them.” He told you, fingers scratching at his eyebrow as he tried to think about all your words. “You're some sort of wolf in sheep's clothing, you bite when someone gets too close to something you don't like.” He continued on, the phrasing causing your smile to drop completely. You bit your tongue slightly before speaking, “I’m sorry you think that.” You spoke quietly, the tone of your voice made Max create eye contact with you.

He smiled, smiled at you. “I thought you were insufferable,” He spoke about prior moments, “but, you interest me more and more everyday.” He told you, this made your eyes narrow in confusion. “I’m sorry?” You asked him, crinkling your brows, your nose scrunched and your mouth twisted. Max nodded, smiling, crossing his arms, “I just told you about how your words are manipulative and responded with ‘I’m sorry you think that’ as if it’s my fault. You’re doing it to me!” He laughed, he didn’t even seem mad about it. “You’re so interesting, I just can't stop myself from listening when you talk to people.” He told her, leaning on the back wall. Your tongue touched the bottom of the top row of your teeth as you looked away in disbelief, “You’re definitely looking into what I say too much, but you find it…?” You paused, leaning on the opposing wall, foot balancing you on the wall. He continued the sentence for you, “Intriguing. I find you intriguing.” He told you, his smile turned into his typical smirk.

Your expression softened, “So, you like me?” You asked bluntly, causing the boy to glare at you. “I said you interest me, you do things that make it so I can’t focus on other things.” He explained, rolling his neck a bit and you nodded. “Right, you totally like me.” You teased, “Quit it.” He responded, rolling his eyes. You shook your head and began walking into the hallway, Max following. “If I’m so…’interesting’,” You quoted, turning to him, “you can meet me after this next class that we’re late to, and we can talk more then.” You finished your sentence and he looked over to you boredly. You guys were by your lockers so he unlocked his and shrugged, “Okay.” he said, shuffling in his locker as if he were busy. You began to walk away with a grin, waving, “Bye Max.” You told him, walking into your class late.

Max was staring at the back of his locker with a matching grin, soon putting his head down on the bottom of his locker, a small flush on his face. He was definitely going to meet you after this last class.

#max thunderman #max thunderman x reader #nickelodeon x reader #nickelodeon #x reader #fanfiction #max thunderman fanfiction #ao3 #the thundermans x reader #the thundermans #Infinite Imaginings

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akirathedramaqueen · 2 months ago

Text

CBT and Exposure Therapy: Blitzø Showcase

An important (really, don't skip) disclaimer

If you are contemplating whether or not you would benefit from any kind of therapy, consider consulting with your medical provider first. While I did my best to validate all the points made using publicly available resources, I am not a medical professional. At the very least, I strongly advise that you do your own research and not take some amateur's opinion about a character from a silly demon show for granted.

"Everyone in this show needs fucking therapy STAT!"

We hear fans screaming into the void every now and then. Me too. I plead guilty and I willingly put myself in custody. But I am not taking these words back.

Especially often it is being said with Blitzø in mind, who, as hinted earlier and clearly shown in the latest episode, Ghostfuckers, is not doing okay. Not in the slightest.

Which is . . . yes. Indeed, trauma-ridden Blitzø is a major problem for both him and those around him. Yes, we see him reaching his lowest point now exactly because he left these gaping wounds untreated for so long.

But the tricky question is—how, though? What to do? Will a good talking to a confidante help? Or, maybe, some kind of shock would snap him out of the spiral?

I've been pondering on this topic for more than 4 months, and, as the Ghostfuckers came out, I finally got all the data I need to prove a point. The show did all the job for me and effectively made Blitzø go through improvised versions of two popular therapy techniques. And, before I even start, I want to say—I am so glad with what we ended up with. What they did, and, more importantly, didn't do, aligns well with how it would likely happen in real life.

So buckle up, and let's see where it gets us!

Therapy # 1. Cognitive-behavioral therapy, or CBT

This is, in essence and with some corrections, your good old talking. Here you can find more information about it, so, if you're not familiar with the topic, I recommend following the link first.

But, very shortly: CBT is an extremely common approach to be tried while you're dealing with anxiety, depression, and a number of other mental disorders. What it aims to do is to help you get past unhelpful thinking (distortions) and learn not to act on it.

Looks like it fits the bill, right? Blitzø has a lot of issues with self-fulfilling prophecies, infuriatingly stupid assumptions, poorly thought-out actions . . .

But he's not like, you know . . . w-we're not, like . . . we're not doing a . . . w-we . . . what's betw— It's a transactional fucking, you see.

If you don't feel like coming, that's OK! I'm sure I can do without it for one month. :)

Stolas only cares about having a rugged peasant raw-dog him into his matress! It's nothing, ya know . . . it's nothing else.

You . . . no longer have any obligation to see me, to touch me, to bed me . . . You are— you are free of me.

He sees things which aren't truly there.

It's not Stolas giving him space after the disaster in the 'Ozzie's.' It must be Stolas not needing him anymore, getting tired of him.

It's not Stolas caring about Blitzø. He is a royal, why would he care how an imp's day he happened to be fucking was?

It's not Stolas setting Blitzø free and putting an end to a problematic transaction they had with the hope for it to grow into something more. It's him getting rid of Blitzø.

As a result, he ends up hurting himself and the relationship he had with that one sad gay bird he happened to fall deeply for but literally trashed in his own house twice, acting on nothing more than frenetic fear of losing Stolas, but in reality, driving him away even more . . . for good.

I mean, you royal fucks think you can do this every time, like you can just play with our feelings because we're smaller and not as important!

Ha! I'm right, aren't I? You get off getting plowed by people you look down on!

And I can sorry more people, everyone but you! 'Cause I don't owe you dick! Everyone, but you . . .

So, the case's closed? Let someone—say, Millie—talk to him and tell him how wrong he was about himself and the others?

Well, here's the thing. Despite him being infinitely wrong about Stolas's intentions, we can't deny the fact that every one of his beliefs was not, in fact, a distortion. It'd led him to wrong conclusions, yes, but it was built on the information he received and legitimate experiences he had in his life. Here are only some of the facts connected to only this situation with Stolas, but there are other problematic behaviors and other reasons for him acting the way he does.

Fact # 1. The circus fire did happen, and Blitzø was the reason for it. Unintentional, and of course it wasn't his fault, but it still ruined the lives of many people—him included. Blitzø cannot act like it never occurred.

Fact # 2. Hell is divided by class and race. Their situationship with the grimoire was an embodiment of that inequality. A lot of Blitzø's outburst during the Full Moon and later in the Apology Tour was connected to it, to his beliefs that Stolas is the same as the rest of the privileged circle. Beliefs, I stress, justified by the real world. Stolas is more of an exception, and even then, his behavior is only different when it comes to Blitzø. He still acts the same toward other imps.

Fact # 3. We knew about Stolas's intentions all along, but before that fateful Full Moon, what Blitzø saw was Stolas avoiding him and not communicating the issue the Ozzie's date had raised. And before Ozzie's? Stolas did act entitled and inappropriate. He was baby-talking to Blitzø and used derogatory terms while addressing him. The dude literally called him an impish plaything in the Truth Seekers.

Fact # 4. Blitzø's heavily implied (though not officially confirmed by the show) existing conditions—ADHD*, BPD**, PTSD, and dyslexia/dyscalculia***—do affect his life, and while Hell seems to be somewhat receptive of neurodivergence, he still has to deal with it every single fucking day. He is going to be avoidant and afraid to be abandoned at the same time. He is going to hate himself. His learning disabilities are going to make his life harder. No way around it.

Note: *, **, and *** contain links to separate meta-analyses from @timkontheunsure and @tealvenetianmask about the respective conditions and how they show themselves in Blitzø's case.

And my beef with CBT here is exactly that. CBT's goal is to gaslight you into believing your distortions hold no water and suggests you just ignore them. And, as I've shown with Blitzø, these reactions and assumptions aren't baseless. They are legitimate, and, in fact, sometimes help to get by. Even though it's a crooked crutch, you can't learn to walk properly by just throwing that crutch away. You're still going to limp, and oh, will it be painful.

This is oversimplistic and dismissive. Anxiety and depression don't come out of the blue, and with mental disabilities, it's even deeper. The class/disability stigma is alive and strong, and just slapping a "you're fine" bandaid on your traumatized self isn't going to help.

Therapy # 2. Exposure therapy.

Exposure therapy is another approach commonly used while dealing with traumatic past and its aftermath—PTSD, anxiety, phobias, and such. Again, if you're not familiar, there's the link for you, but very shortly—the therapist puts the patient in a safe environment and 'exposes' them to the feared object in question for limited periods of time. The goal is to eventually get rid of the targeted fear and decrease avoidance.

And Blitzø has got some phobias for sure.

The fear of letting everyone down. Again.

And the fear of abandonment. Again.

All of it is a result of self-hatred, sitting so deeply it rules his life and his vision of how others perceive him. Said it himself. Almost.

So, where and how does the show expose Blitzø to his traumatic past?

First, the most recent, and the most obvious one—Rolando and his slideshow of all traumatic events Blitzø ever had in his life.

Second—Blitzø's drug trip in the Truth Seekers. While it does not contain the events of the past as they were, it does force him to face his fears.

Are you worried I might have enough of it one day as well? . . . You're going to die alone! . . . You're going to die alone, Blitzo!

With some stretch, the third one is Verosika's 'Blitzo sucks' party. Where Blitzø was forced to see the consequences of his avoidance and rejection.

Note: to be clear, I do think the party does not show the true extent of Blitzø's actions and how much he'd hurt people. It was exaggerated by Verosika, and here I explain why this is the case.

So, what gives? Or, rather, what gives it not?

It might sound funny now, considering I brought it up myself, but I, once again, say this is not therapeutic, just as CBT kind of 'talking.' If anything, all these three events did more harm than good.

The D.H.O.R.K.S.'s goal in the Truth Seekers was to torture the information out of Blitzø. He was not supposed to overcome it. He was supposed to crack.

The Verosika's goal was to ruin Blitzø's reputation. She was working her ass off to prove he's just a heartless freak.

The Rolando's goal was to fucking kill Blitzø.

And okay, their motivations had nothing to do with helping him, but maybe it did, in its own twisted way?

No. The writers added this to push Blitzø past the breaking point, not to heal him, and to show us more of his lore. Each time he was forced to face his past or fears or consequences, he was only spiraling more.

The only thing which did him some good was . . . well, Millie finally seeing his bravado mask falling off. But the cost of it was way too high. Not worth it.

To the therapy's defense, some points why it would never work in the way it was done in the show:

Blitzø had never given his consent and was not ready to face it. I might be very rude right now, but go and try producing some explosion-like sounds in front of war veterans without letting them know first and see what happens.

The amount of fearful experience exposed was way too overboard. He couldn't possibly digest it in a healthy way.

The environment was not safe. It was straight-up retraumatizing, an intentional one.

So there's that.

But what helped then?

We've briefly brushed over the fact Millie did talk to Blitzø. While I did imply this might be an example of CBT, here are some key deviations from the classic therapy which made all the difference.

Millie didn't sugarcoat all the shit Blitzø did. He was hurting their business. He didn't pay her. He was reduced to Bethanie. It showed her opinion can be trusted.

Millie apologized for not being there for him sooner. She admitted she relied too much on Blitzø being bulletproof, unbothered by everything. She admitted she didn't support him in a way he always did.

While proving she could never hate Blitzø, she used their common story, one he knows and can recall. She used evidence to prove him wrong, not a "it's all in your head" bandaid. And more than that, later she proved it with action—not for one second did she believe Rolando and his shittalk about what Blitzø supposedly was thinking about her. Her unwavering faith spoke more than any words ever could.

Getting back to exposure therapy . . . Metaphorically, she reminded Blitzø he can handle a beating or two. And physically beat the infestor demon out of him, which, as we can see later, didn't really affect Blitzø that much. He wasn't even battered. So, apparently, when the said exposure is done by someone who genuinely tries to make you feel better and knows your limits well, it might just work?

And finally, Millie acknowledged Blitzø's pain. She didn't brush it away. She validated him.

What all of this is about?

Like every treatment, too much of a medicine can become poisonous. So are CBT and exposure therapy.

They might help, and lots of research shows they do in certain cases. But there are limitations to what they can and cannot achieve, and they have to be adjusted to each individual story, to each trauma, and they should not be applied as a way to mend the outcome of the trauma without taking into account the story it comes with. Again, legitimate concerns and experiences cannot be brushed away or ignored.

Actualy . . . we've seen where it leads in the show too. In the beginning, Millie was quite dismissive of Blitzø's worries—all of this over a . . . breakup?

And here it comes full circle.

Only when Millie started taking Blitzø seriously, did it help them progress. And look how quickly we've switched from a complete despair to a glimmer of hope! Isn't that a beautiful closing scene?

As a closing note—we do not need to 'fix' Blitzø. After all this shit he went through, there won't be a day where he wakes up and be like, "Hey, I don't hate myself anymore! And look, I'm not afraid to be abandoned or misunderstood!"

I'm sorry to break it to you, but this is a lifelong battle. Being mentally whole, healthy, and constantly happy is no more than a myth, and everyone has their own demons and skeletons to deal with.

What Blitzø needs is some good support system to pull him back when he's down.

And boy, do I hope that one particular owl will fill in that role of unyielding pillar for Blitzø each time our lizard will fall into that pit again. Look, I love Millie, but there's only so much she can do. She can't be always present, she has her own life . . . and her own disaster of a husband to look after (affectionate <3). Here and here @lost-romantique talks about Stolas's capacity of loving, with me occasionally nodding, ha-ha. But to be short—it's fucking immense. And since he loves words, I do believe he has all the energy to tell again and again and again how awesome Blitzø is. Even if Blitzø wouldn't believe it himself.

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painted-flag · 4 months ago

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OF FLOWERS AND DEATH - aemond targaryen

Chapter 1: The Laws of Humans and Elves

☾⋆⁺₊✧ dark elf!Aemond Targaryen x f!human!reader series. ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series masterlist. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ word count: 2.9k ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series warnings: 18+ depictions of violence/gore, eventual smut, warfare, sickness/disease, some moments of misogyny, and mentions of alcohol consumption. ☾⋆⁺₊✧notes: a short part to introduce the world and get started. I am super excited to start rolling out the chapters I have been working on. ✧₊⁺⋆☾ on a sun-blessed day, you happen upon a new companion.

The darkness came from the rot of the world. At the very least, that is the superstition. It followed centuries after the wrecking chaos that threatened to crack the very stone of the world and cast all those living down to hell. The earth had been fighting for millennia, with elves and humans slaughtering one another; the Great War. Their reason for fighting had been lost to time. It had not mattered anymore, for the malice held between them was enough to bear rot in the roots of their history. Such chaos and death must anger the gods, for violence was their language - to exact on the land of the living, not for the living to exact upon one another.

A stalemate happened after each side bore the cost of life beyond that which should be possible. Peace, however fickle, was forged and laid in a treaty between the humans and elves. It was unstable, but so long as it was upheld, the world could know peace. Children could know their parents, families could stick together, cities could rebuild, and meaningless fighting could be put to rest. Meadows and tracts of land grew back and birds chirped once again. The fields, once littered with the corpses of slain kin, bloomed with flowers once again.

It took six centuries before that peace was destroyed. The taint came from an unknown source. Some claim humans started it, others say it was the elves; each wishing to push prejudice against the other. Many say it is the wrath of whichever god or gods they follow. A curse put upon the earth to punish them for their bloodshed. It could be a twisted act to kill them and purify the world, or perhaps bring hell from below and judge them before their deaths.

The opinions of gods did not matter to you. What mattered - truly - was fighting back against the twisted black darkness that crawled across the land, wilting plants and killing all known life. It tainted water and invaded lands, crawling through the world map like unkempt ivy. You were determined that there was a resolution. This was not some wrath from the gods, but simply a fight against the same darkness humans and elves inflicted against one another. A manifestation of sin.

That was how you found yourself, each day, kept in your lodgings in an old town by the borders between the human kingdom and the domain of elves. It was a proper place to be, for the taint spread by a half-day ride away, easily accessible for experiments. It was also favourable, for you could not live in your old home deep in the kingdom. You grew up being raised by your father there, had forged the purest of memories. Yet they died with his disappearance.

Five years he had been gone and since then you had diligently taken over his work after moving. It was a peaceful life, albeit frustrating. With each passing day insecurity seized your body. Your research had been inadequate and experiments even more so. The darkness spread, and fields of flowers, forests of trees, and lakes of plenty suffered further. The landscape around had died where it was touched. You had been failing and no progress had been made.

It was in the darkest hours of the night you found yourself staring at the roof of your cottage, contemplating the meaning of your existence. Surely, if you were as brilliant as your father, a cure would have been found. The effort you put into it, the pain and tirelessness, could not be for naught.

In the small hamlet you were in, the land still bore beauty. It was in that sight where you held your inspiration. Those creeping moments of doubt would clash against your hope like saltwater on rock; wearing the stone down through time. The world was worth saving and you would be damned if you sat back and watched it collapse.

So, like most days, you find yourself working. It was late noon as you approached the edge of the sprawling meadow outside the village. You were on the border of the kingdom between humans and elves, and it was here where you could find a good growing of nettles. It was outside the thick canopy of forest that you found growing on the edge of the meadow close to your home. You had just approached when the sound of faint crying made its way to you.

The sobs were of a girl and you looked back and forth to see if you could spot the person. It was gentle weeping that spurred you to move. You began to trail along the edge of the forest in search of the source. Your gaze swept over the dark branches of trees, unease settling in your bones.

After a few moments of walking, you looked into the trees to see a woman with her back to you. She was on the ground in a dirtied light green dress. Her hair cascaded down her back, light and silvery, with some of it in a braid crown across her head. Her shoulders shook and from what you could see, she cradled her left forearm in distress.

You knew it was forbidden, for a human to cross into elvish territory uninvited, but you could not walk away after seeing someone hurt. You looked around for anyone else and saw nothing. A breath caught in your throat as you stepped into the tree line, foot crunching on the branches below. You waited for a moment for the worst to happen; some archer waiting to shoot you or a bunch of guards to descend upon you, but you saw nothing.

Deeming it safe, you moved forward to the woman.

“Hello? Are you alright?” You kept your voice at a low volume so as not to startle her. However, your abrupt words shocked her and she turned to you. Tear tracks ran down her reddened cheeks. You were thrown slightly off guard at her appearance. You had heard of the elvish characteristic of perfect beauty, but you had not been witness to it until that very moment.

Her crystal blue eyes reflected the greenery around her. You could see some blood on her forearm that seeped from the gaps in her hand that cradled the wound.

“I got lost…” Her voice trailed off for a minute. “And I tripped.” She looked down at her wound and removed her hand. On the top part of her forearm was a sizable cut. The surrounding area had gotten dirty and you knew it had to be cleaned soon. Being a healer, your instincts kicked in.

You knelt down, but kept your distance to not invade her space, “I can take care of that cut. It needs to be cleaned.”

She seemed to look at you in a clearer light after wiping away her tears. Her good arm rose to point at your ears, silently acknowledging that they were not shaped in the familiar point of an elf. You reached up and covered them subconsciously with a feeling of inadequacy.

“Look, I'm a healer in my village. All of my supplies are at home. Would you… would you come with me?” You knew it was a shot-in-the-dark question, but your more nurturing trait took over at seeing someone hurt. You wanted to help her by any means that you could. The shattered relationship between your respective kinds meant nothing to you, for old grudges were nothing but pointless. This was a being that needed help, which you were capable of giving.

“I don't want to be a burden…” Her voice was light and spacey. She seemed to have an air of lightness to her. An uncommon trait of pure brightness came from her, mixed with the calming feeling of a babbling brook. Her presence mimicked the gentle nature of the environment around her.

“You aren’t. I promise.” You slowly got up from your crouching position. Your hands were held up to show no ill will. She looked at you for a moment, judging the situation. You could tell otherworldly works were happening in her mind - a keen elf sense of analyzing your character.

She sniffled, “I’m Helaena.” Her grip tightened on the wound, no doubt experiencing more pain as her adrenaline wore off.

You offer a friendly smile and introduce yourself. You adjusted the skirt of your dress and nodded towards the direction of the meadow. The rustling of the dark trees had begun to make you wary and uncomfortable. Tales of these woods, and the elves that lurk within are not always kind. You briefly remembered moments around campfires, men trading stories of old. Most of them were lost on you to time, but the stories of the elf king stuck; his sadistic tendencies and inability to refrain from striking down any who so much as bothered him. You by no means wished to be on the receiving end of his wrath, lest you be caught.

“My home is only a short walk from here.” Your words seem to spur Helaena and she rose to her feet carefully. She kept a few paces away from you when following behind. Once you walked past the edge of the trees and into the tall grass of the meadow, she stopped. Helaena's gaze swept back and forth as if looking for a trap. She took a hesitant step forward and it was like going through a threshold and becoming comfortable with her surroundings.

Helaena matched your pace as the two of you trekked through the field. You wished to be discreet, for you did not want to know how people would react upon seeing an elf in their territory. You struggled to come up with any conversation starters as social skills were not among your talents. Especially when the woman beside you was an elf, likely leagues ahead in wisdom and experience through age. You felt inadequate next to her beauty.

Thankfully, your cottage was nestled away from the rest of the town, over a hill that shielded it from curious gazes. It was a single-level home, with enough room for a decent-sized bedroom, kitchen, and living space. The living space was taken over by your study materials. Books stacked with loose pieces of parchment with notes aplenty. Countless vials and tubes full of different substances were neatly organized across two wooden tables. Some of the tubes were over small lit fires, bubbling with substances you were experimenting with.

You gestured for her to sit on a sofa placed in front of the hearth. Her eyes darted to everything around her, especially on the countless plants that littered every inch of available space. Your home was a fusion of messy and organized. Everything had its place, but it was a collection of different items that gave an eclectic feeling.

You grabbed some supplies for the wound and set them down on the low table by the couch. There was uncertainty that lingered in your mind. In the few minutes you had known Helaena, you could tell she had an aversion towards people; though you could not tell if that was because of your humanness or not. Regardless of the answer, you would respect her wishes.

“Can I sit there?” You pointed to the spot beside her and waited for an answer. She nodded silently and you slowly sat down. When you found yourself on the plush cushion, you looked towards her wound. “May I?”

Helaena nodded again. She lifted her hand to reveal the wound. It was still bleeding but had slowed down by her putting pressure on it. You took a dish of water and a clean cloth. You rung it out and placed the damp material on the wound, gently wiping the blood away. While you diligently worked, you decided to see if you could break the ice more. Helaena appeared interested in the items around her.

“I’m working on a cure for the taint. That’s why this place is a bit of a mess, sorry for that.” You began, “I also keep insects, so I apologize if any happen to land upon you.” At the word insects, Helaena’s eyes lit up and she sat straighter.

“What kind?” She asked. You noticed that this was the most relaxed she has been since meeting her. The wound was clean and you assessed that it was not nearly big enough for any stitching. You applied your own poultice to the wound and began to wrap it in a light linen cloth.

“Whatever I tend to find, really. Butterflies, crickets, beetles, spiders, and dragonflies are the ones that I see the most.” You answered while securing the cloth. You backed up on the couch afterwards, giving her more space. She breathed more at that and you were glad your actions could ease her.

You got out of the seat and walked towards one of the desks. You grabbed a decent-sized wooden cage. It had two newborn dragonflies that you cultivated recently. You brought it back to where Helanea sat and handed it over to her. A small smile made its way onto her face as she peered in at the little creatures.

It was an impulse decision, but you made it anyway.

“You can keep them.” At your words, Helaena looked up at you. She had a hopeful look in her eyes. Her eyes darted between you and the creatures. You nodded in assurance, reinforcing your decision.

“Think of it as a gift of friendship.” You spoke. Your newfound companion seemed to light up further and you found great pleasure in making her happy. It had been so long since you had spent quality time with anyone.

“Friends?” Helaena questioned you. She sat the cage on her lap and gave you her full attention. You suddenly got nervous, thinking that perhaps you overstepped.

“We don’t have to be,” You stuttered out, “It can just be a sign of goodwill.” You wanted to clarify your meaning. You felt awkward having shoved that status upon Helaena and you were anticipating her swift leave of your company. It would not be a surprise, as most often people tended to sway away from you after speaking. You could hardly last a conversation with someone.

“I would like to be friends,” Helaena told you. Your heart swelled with happiness. She would be the first friend you had in a long while. You knew this would be the only time you would see her, for interactions between humans and elves were limited to the occasional diplomat from each kingdom going to high courts. The rest - common folk - were forbidden from entering one another’s territory. It was a rule drawn to prevent fighting between groups and entering another war that would no doubt kill more than the last, especially with the growing acres of taint spreading indiscriminately and destroying everything in its wake.

Helaena held the dragonfly cage in her hands and stood up from her seat. She swayed slightly, eyes darting back and forth.

“I have to go home. My family… they will be looking for me.” You nodded at her words and got out of your seat as well. It was disheartening, for her to leave so soon, but you did not wish to bother her anymore. You moved to the door and opened it.

“I’ll walk you back.” The two of you walked outside into the warm sunny weather. The sounds of crickets and the breeze through tall grass calmed you. The walk towards the forest was short, and you wanted it to be longer.

Helaena seemed to look back down at the cage every once in a while and smiled to herself. She cradled it like it was the most precious thing. Parts of her green dress had gotten dirty on the bottom, but the craft of the elves stunned you with their intricate work.

When you two got to the forest edge, she turned around to face you.

“Why did you help me?” Helaena’s question caught you off guard. There was no real answer. You had simply saw someone in distress and wished to help them. There was no reason other than the simple will to aid when you could.

“I just wanted to help. It's what I am good at.” You reassured. It was the whole truth. All your life, you had fumbled at many things; been unsure and made mistakes. However, healing was something you excelled at. It was disheartening that you were yet to find a cure for the taint that spread, but you knew deep down that there was a solution and you had to try.

“I hope your research goes well.” Helaena addressed. Your heart warmed at her kindness.

“Thank you. I hope you get better soon.”

Your meeting and subsequent bond forged was not a common one. Humans and elves having interactions were few, even fewer when they found commonality with one another. You had no doubt, that with more exposure to one another, the kinds could get along. There were great differences in culture, but the truth still came. Your races were living and breathing, inhabited the same world, and forged deep bonds and care for others. That alone was enough, at least to you.

It was there, standing on each side of the invisible territorial line of the kingdoms, that a human and an elf built a connection of friendship; careless to whether or not it lasted, for the future was uncertain.

Chapter 2: A Modest Proposition Preview

He rose from the throne and manoeuvred down the steps to stand a metre in front of you, each step echoed through the hall. His lone gaze fell ladden on your cheek, heavy and hot with inner ire. Your voice got stuck in your throat and you glanced towards Helaena to ask for any form of help. Aemond held his head high while his stare looked you up and down and released a low hum. In his inspection, you felt as if he could see every action you had ever made, every sin, and went about judging as he saw fit.

As a judge, jury, and executioner.

Would you all be interested in previews at the end of each chapter?

Thank you for all of the support!

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