#again its not bad. but stories end for a reason ya know?

[transsexula]

Yall bare with me. I watched a new show with gays in it.

[chrollogy]

[haveihitanerve]

The comments were usual. Frequent even. Bruce bore them all with a smile, either acting like a bored teenager forced to attend the events he had planned, or blushing, sculpting the Brucie persona before he had even reached his twenties. 

“Oh Brucie!!!” They would twitter at him, women and men alike, pawing at his arms, his shoulders, chest, some even boldly reaching for his ass, snaking an arm around him, pulling him closer. “You look delicious baby.” They’d murmur, pur, coo over him. 

Alfred would get rightfully angry over the comments, when Bruce told him, but after the anger led to nothing, Bruce stopped coming home with the stories. He just went to bed, showering off all the handprints and touches. 

And then Dick came along.

“Bruuuuuuuuuce!” The nine year old whined, hissing the ending syllable like a snake. “I wanna gooooo!!!” Bruce chuckled lightly, fixing his cuffs in the mirror. 

“I highly doubt it chum.” He murmured, glancing over at his ward, seated on the foot of his bed. Dick pouted, the full package; lip out and arms crossed, and Bruce laughed, walking over to grab his tie and ruffle the boys hair. 

“Its a boring Gala, bud. Not too exciting.” Dick huffed, watching as Bruce expertly wound the tie around his neck, swinging the sides over and through. 

“Its a pARty!” He pointed out. “And I wanna go.” Bruce hummed to show he was listening, buttoning up the bottom two buttons of his suit, before letting his hands drop to his side. 

He sighed. “Do you want to wear a suit?” Dick’s eyes sparked up with excitement before he wrinkled his nose. 

“Do I hafta?” He complained. Bruce laughed, turning to face him. 

“Yes. Its a formal event. Suit, or you’re not coming.” The threat of a suit made the words take a moment to sink in, but once they did Dick rocketeded across the room, flying into Bruce’s arms. 

“For real???” He squealed, all excitement and little kid energy. “Hell yeah!” He bolted out the door to his own room before Bruce could so much as open his mouth to chide “language.” 

The car ride over was a new level of annoyance Bruce didn't know existed, as Dick bounced around in his seat, eagerly looking out the window for the first glimpse of his first “real adult party”. Still, he couldn't help but smile at Dick's unbridled joy.  

Hank, Bruce’s chauffeur, bore all of it with a smile, regaling Dick with stories of picking up Bruce when he was a teenager, and all the college hell, while Dick cackled and Bruce rolled his eyes. But, then again, Hank had his own three kids at home, and was marginally more used to the watts of energy than Bruce was. 

“Here ya are Mr. Wayne.” Hank finally cut off all of Dick’s peppering questions about Bruce’s college stories, a relief, as Hank was really getting into the bad stuff, or in Dicks mind, the good stuff, and Bruce hopped out, opening the door for his son. “Thank you!” Dick twittered as he leapt out, waving. 

Hank chuckled, dipping his hat. “Of course Mr. Wayne, hope you have a fun night.” Dick grinned back, and it surprised Bruce that he was so okay with hank calling him “Wayne.” But, then again, his boy and the driver seemed to have an easier relationship. Bruce certainly wasn't going to call him out. 

It did something to him, flooded his body with something heavy and warm, to hear Dick be called “Wayne”. Maybe a primal thing, an old animal instinct, the need to claim and own and have Dick. Dick was his son, maybe not by blood, but by… everything and anything Dick allowed him to have. 

“B!” Dick chirped, already a few feet up the steps, a frown on his face as he looked back. Bruce realized he’d been lost in thought at the side of the road. 

“Coming chum.” He agreed quickly, hurrying to his wards side before the entered. 

“Woah.” Dick breathed, the second they breached the door, and Bruce silently agreed. Gala’s weren’t fun for a plethora of reasons, but they were always beautiful. 

Almost immediately though, camera’s swarmed him, not only flashes of light but also of sickeningly white teeth, too wide mouths, pale skin pawing for his attention. 

“Brucie, darling!!!” One man twittered, and they successfully separated them, dragging Bruce over to one gaggle of rich twats while a few others circled Dick. Dick seemed to be taking it remarkably well, nodding politely and smiling, shaking hands, but his eyes darted to Bruce every few seconds, questions in his eyes. 

“Excuse me-” Bruce brushed past his virus of people and forced his way beside Dick, kneeling so he was at eye level.

“Everything alright?” he murmured quietly, tucking Dick into his space, warding off others. He almost wanted to say “i told you so” but figured it’d only do more harm than good. Pointing it out when Dick was clearly overwhelmed would not be helpful, or nice in any capacity. 

Dick nodded, shoulders imperceptibly dropping in relief as he allowed himself to be caged by Bruce’s body. “Y-yeah. Fine. Better now.” Bruce let the unspoken words hang between them, “-that you’re here”, and nodded instead, standing. 

“Stay close.” he flicked his fingers and Dick obediently stepped closer, pushing into Bruce’s space with hardly a thought.

And, Bruce realized quietly, he didn't mind either. Having people in his space… touch had never been his thing, after his parents death. Especially not when that touch came from unsympathetic elites after his parents money. But with Dick… it was, easier. Nice. 

The rest of the night went by a little better, and Dick even stepped away a few feet, always close by, but straying enough that he wasn't hiding behind Bruce’s legs. In his shadow. It was then that it happened. 

“Oh aren’t you just beautiful.” The words came from Mrs. Braught, a well known widow with enough wealth to compete with the Drakes, if not Waynes. She was… known for her affinity to younger men, boys, really, and Bruce had only managed to not make the cut because he had known, as a boy, and avoided her, and wasn’t as “appealing” to her, due to his depression. 

Dick stiffened slightly at the words, but still offered her a smile, polite, as always. The reaction made Bruce relax marginally. He was okay, he was handling it, just like Bruce had. 

But… but Dick’s smile was strained, his shoulders inching near his ears, and there was a definite tilt to him, a lean away from Braught that was easy to miss. But not to Bruce. 

Before he knew what he was doing, Bruce was at his wards side- no, in front of him, shoving Dick behind his legs. Dick stumbled, lightly, at the sudden push, but quickly straightened, grabbing the back of Bruce’s coat. The trembling Bruce could feel through the fabric was enough to make him see red. 

The Brucie persona was gone, slipping off without a singe thought, fast enough that Bruce wondered for a fraction of a second if it had even been on when he had entered the Gala, and Bruce realized it wasn't just Dick’s hand trembling, but Bruce’s whole body. 

His fists curled, hard enough that his knuckles turned white, jaw clenched to the point where his teeth squeaked, entire body quivering with rage. 

Mrs. Braught glanced up, surprised, almost caught off guard even, as she realized Brucie Wayne wasn't there for a pleasant hello, but Bruce was there, a man- no, a father, furious at what was being said about his son. 

Bruce could hear, faintly, as though through water, people beginning to whisper, eyes wide as the elites gathered around, no one bold enough to step in, and no one truly believing Brucie would do anything. 

Bruce didn't care. Dick was his, and he would not allow the traumas of the past to repeat, though he had failed to stop him from being orphaned. No more. He vowed, hands fisting at his sides. He had failed Dick in the one, true way that mattered, keeping his family, but he would not fail him any other way. Not in the ways Bruce was failed. 

His hand began to move back on its own accord, when a tiny, stubborn hand caught it, grabbed his wrist. Bruce looked down in surprise to find Dick staring up him solemnly, shaking his head.

Before Bruce could say something, another woman, another widow Bruce recognized as Mrs. Kershaw, stepped forward, fire bright in her weathered eyes. 

“You go on and git out of here Gertrude, before I tar your hide.” She hissed, and Bruce recalled how her own daughter had been raped and murdered when she had been barely thirteen. Gertrude knew it too, and backed away, scurrying for the exit. Mrs. Kershaw made sure she left, eyes kind when she glanced at Bruce, a subtle nod of solidarity her only acknowledgement. 

Dick tugged on his hand, but Bruce ignored him, sending a viscous glare at anyone who dared step too close. 

“Dad.” Dicks voice was soft, so soft, but proud too, grateful. That finally dragged Bruce from his never ending anger, and he looked down. Down at those wide blue eyes, that head of messy black curls.

“Come on Dad.” Dick whispered quietly, eyes darting around nervously at all the people, the cameras, but always going back to Bruce. Meeting his eyes. 

Bruce bent down and scooped his son into his arms, uncaring of who saw, who cared. He blocked his son off from the world, heading for the exit, one of the waitstaff, Aisha, nodding at him to inform him Hank had been called. 

“Thanks Dad.” Dick murmured, face buried against Bruce’s neck, and Bruce’s arms tightened around him, heading out into the streets of Gotham with his son cradled to his chest. 

“I’ll always protect you chum.” He swore, and something in his heart lightened at the Justice he was doing for his son, but also for his younger self. “I will always protect you.” 

thanks to @frownyalfred and @astorianyxkings for the idea!

[studiogrimm810]

Dreams Come True

pairings: (pining) sam winchester x gn!reader, dean is kinda there

summary: the brothers request your help with hunting a djinn and after being under its manipulation, you realize you can't ignore your feelings for sam forever

warnings: angst, graphic depictions of crime scene images, open but happy ending, unspoken feelings

word count: 5,138

A/N: i don't know how to write shorter stories. pls send help, thx

———————

As you pulled into the parking lot of some dingy diner you scanned the area in search for a particularly sparkling Impala that stood out like a sore thumb. Upon the confirmation of the vehicle, you knew Sam and Dean were waiting for you inside. It had been a few months since you'd last seen the brothers and it caused a low churning in your stomach, a sickening curl to your intestines that made you nauseous. You love the Winchesters, you truly do, and you would drop everything if they needed a hand like now, but your problem was in fact that you loved one specific Winchester a touch too much. It was exhausting.

Ever since you could drive, you have been on your own. Your parents weren’t much help to your development, and honestly the only real reason you’re as functioning as you pretend to be is because of your Uncle Rufus who stepped up in raising you. He kept an eye on you when his brother failed but you had always had a sharp sense of independence. So, the second your uncle's friend, Bobby, fixed you up a car to claim as your own, you were gone.

And you pretended it didn’t hurt when Rufus didn’t put up a fight.

The forced and minimal choices of your life lead you to be fiercely independent and taught you not to rely on anyone for a thing. You had your own car, your own way of living, and your own set of personal, strict, rules that you follow to a T.

Rules that come so close to being bent in the presence of one, Sam Winchester.

You force yourself out of your car and through the parking lot to the lightly rusted doors smudged with greasy finger-prints. That’s it, next time you get to choose where you and the boys meet up. Surely the food here is good, and the waitress who is taking Sam and Deans drink order looks kind enough, but being on the road most of your life leads you to have a distaste of cheap and greasy spots where their healthiest item on the menu is probably the tomatoes that top their hangover burgers.

Sam and Dean have sat on the same side of the booth and they both smile warmly as they spot you enter the diner. The stale but warm air laced with french fries and left over maple syrup from breakfast washes over you and your mouth waters at the thought of a sweet dessert topping that’s become socially acceptable first thing in the morning.

Eh, maybe this diner isn’t so bad.

Making your way to their delicately selected booth, your stomach twists in a tight knot again at the sight of Sam. A beautiful splitting smile that cracks his face to allow little beams of whatever the fuck makes him so stunningly happy at this moment is partnered with a trademark dimple threatening to suck you in and never loosen up. You smile back at both of them.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dean beams as he and Sam stand in unison to greet you. Dean hugs you first, a firm grip that’s a little too tight because he knows you can handle it and he doesn’t really want to help himself. “Missed ya,” he pulls away to ruffle your hair and you try to glare at him while swatting away his hand but you can’t wipe off the smile these two have infected you with.

Sam is next, wrapping his strong arms around you. “Been too long,” he utters out with a slight groan that often accompanies a hug like this, but maybe it’s also because you can tell he had more to say. His arms are big and encompassing, wrapping around you like a cloak that shields away just enough of the outside hustle and bustle to let it just be you two in this moment. It’s so protected and safe in this moment that you can’t help but reply with an equally weighted echo of, “too long.”

After warm hugs that seem to stop time, the boys sit back in their spots and you take the roomy booth opposite of them. Dramatically stretching out your arms, you shoot them a sly but innocent smile. “Good choice in table, boys. ‘S comfy,” you yawn involuntarily.

“Glad you’re livin’ it up, your highness,” Dean teases, tapping the table idly as the waitress returns. You control the attitude threatening to manipulate your face as Dean gives the poor woman googly eyes masked with a quite dashing smirk.

After a harmony of simple orders, the waitress smiles out of obligation for a tip and heads to her next table.

“How’ve you been?” Asks Sam, and damn him. He just has to keep watching you with eyes that are warmer than the coffee Dean insisted on having this late. You settle in your seat, leaning back and running your nails along the beveled edge of the table.

“Good, same old, same old,” you shrug. It really has been quite boring with you recently. You worked a case a few states over, then picked up a few odd jobs to rake up some money again to get you through another case.

“How’s the Toyota?” Dean looks out into the lot for your white sedan parked across the lot. It had been an inside bit between the two of you, he liked to tease you for sticking to such a confident opinion that your little ‘match-box car’- as he coined it- was in fact a more comfortable and reliable ride than his baby. You really didn’t have such a strong opinion, but for the way it ruffles his feathers, you’d die on this hill.

“As good as ever, and grandpa?” You tick your head to the 40 year old car in the lot. Dean clutches his chest with an offended inhale and twisted look of hurt at the Impalas nickname, gifted by you.

“Immoral,” Dean’s face is straight with a flash of cocky know-it-all holding his chin high.

One day you’ll admit that the common denominator between the two cars would most definitely be the servicer of Singer Auto Parts. The man performed miracles on any old hunk of metal you took him.

“Okay, okay, put the measuring tape away,” Sam chuckled, enjoying the bickering between you two. Dean bit back a ‘they started it’ and just took a far too big gulp of his coffee to shut himself up.

“How ‘bout you two? What made you call me out here tonight?” You ask, looking out the window that overlooks probably 80% of the town that is really only a grocery store, a main street with a handful of vendors, and a couple other buildings that you didn’t take the time to specifically identify at the moment. Sam’s warm smile that tore all eyes from the moon cast high in the sky melts down to his polite not-so-fantastic-news smile.

“We’re tracking a Djinn,” Sam explains, pulling out a few books, topped with John's journal, from his computer bag. He sets out the books and snatches one specifically to flip through and turn for you to look at. You scanned the page: silver, lambs blood, poison, dreams? You had vaguely heard about Djinn before but you never really took them seriously. It was one of those creatures like fairies that just seemed so out of your league that you never put too much time or effort into researching it.

“Thinking it’s going along I-81, collecting victims where it can and bleeding ‘em dry,” Dean explains, his own expression turned serious as well. He tracks his finger along certain lines in the text that highlight an important note: ‘Djinn use a poison through physical touch to incapacitate their victims and keep them in a comatose state as they drain their blood over any given period of time. Djinn often give their victims a false reality that some describe as “too good to be true” to keep their bodies calm, stable, and comfortable in such a neglected state of being.’

“They feed on blood? Like vampires?” You ask, cringing slightly. Although you envision yourself to be a strong, smart, quick hunter, blood is your downfall. You make a point to avoid vamps by yourself for this very reason and the boys know this, so they must really need help if they’re asking for your assistance in a case like this.

“Kinda, yeah. Same diet, different harvesting,” Dean shrugs, making the connection for you that makes you want to gag. You force down a few sips of water to settle the tickle in the back of your throat before continuing.

“So how are you tracking this thing? Like how do you know someone has been its victim?” You ask, wondering what the physical proof left behind on a person was inflicted by such a creature was. Sam shuffles through the stack of literature, pulling out a dull, manilla folder and setting it in front of you.

“It’s sloppy, doesn’t clean up after itself at all,” Sam’s hand rests on the top of the folder, holding it closed so that you don’t open it too fast. “It leaves its victims strung up,” Sam explains, removing his hand but still watching you with a silent warning at the contents behind this thin veil. You open the folder and immediately cringe, your head turning to look away but your glued eyes prevent you from turning too far. The first image is a young woman, probably couldn’t even legally drink, with her wrists tied above her head. She’s dirty, bruised, decayed. An IV still connected her neck to a metal frame next to her that would supposedly host plastic blood bags. “Some Djinn passively feed, others drain to save for later.” You swallow thickly as you realize the IV was to rid her of her own blood.

The thought is sickening.

The image is beyond words.

But you persist. Your now unsteady fingers reach to flip the image, finding a police report behind it. The woman was 19- just a girl. Your chest aches, this really is the hardest part of the job- the loss. Her name was Amani and she was going to college for journalism. She was reported missing when she didn’t show up for her editorial meeting on campus. Her boyfriend reported it. Her parents followed up. There was an image attached, from her and her boyfriend on Valentines Day. She looked so happy and so full of life.

You close your eyes to get a hold of yourself. You swallow down your emotions, opening your eyes again to flip the pages again.

The next picture was of another woman, displayed in a similar manner. Her blonde hair stained with rotted blood and you almost mistook her for a brunette. Smeared makeup lined her vacant eyes and a beautiful necklace rested along her clavicle. Turning the page, you learn this woman's name was Eliza, a 39 year old mother of four. A portrait framed a lovely family. She wore the same necklace and you assume it was a gift from her husband who stood tall and proud next to her.

You closed the folder, unable to take in any more. You nodded lightly, looking between the boys. “I’ll help, just tell me what I need to know,” you state. The hardest thing about this job was also your biggest motivator. Preventing this awful fate from befalling another innocent family.

You felt that it was too late for your own chance at love, life, happiness, but that it was now your responsibility to make sure that was an option for as many people as you could save. You felt it was your one true purpose.

This was something that Sam admired about you, your relentless need to help others. To use your knowledge for the betterment of others. Yet, it was still something he wished you were more selfish with. He could tell the effects that the stories and images of these poor victims had on you but you ignored your own limits and boundaries to fight for those who still stand a chance. It was a horrible hero’s curse, really.

Sam’s smile reassures you, even if it’s the sweet, pitying one that he offers those in distress, because something in the glint that shines in his eyes tells you a truth you want to ignore.

“We can kill it with a silver dagger dipped in lamb's blood. We just need the blood,” Dean pulls out his phone to check his messages. “Which is ready for us, courtesy of Frankie,” Dean tips up his phone as if to cheer. Frankie was another hunter friend in rotation, he wasn’t really someone you would team up with, but you’d accept his tools and supplies anytime.

Sam packs up his stack of books, stuffing them in his bag. “Dean has to drive out about an hour to meet Frankie, you and I can stick back and I’ll catch you up on the lore.” Sam offers, zipping his bag up and shoving it aside.

———

The rain outside was persistent, heavy, and unforgiving. You stood at the motel window, glaring out to your car getting a half-assed wash that it so desperately needs. After packing in as much Djinn knowledge as you could get, you and Sam decided to call it quits for the night and wait on Dean.

“So what’s the plan? Do you know how to find where this thing is going to be next?” You asked, turning over your shoulder to spot Sam who was cleaning up his gun, shiney metal parts lined neatly on a cloth next to him.

“We have a hunch, another woman disappeared from her workplace last night. Amani, the college student, was found in an abandoned greenhouse that no one used anymore on campus. The mother, Eliza, was found in some old stock room at the animal shelter she volunteered at. The woman who disappeared last night, Carmen, worked at a museum as a tour guide. There’s a ruined exhibits graveyard in the basement, I’m betting she’ll be there,” Sam explains, continuing to clean his gun. His hands flow in precise motions over the weapon, cradling it and caring for it like a delicate piece of glass.

“Are we checking it out tonight when Dean gets back?” You ask, moving to sit on the free couch that will end up being your bed. Sam glanced out the window that you no longer silhouette, checking for headlights, before returning to finish reassembling his gun.

“Yep, that’s the plan,” Sam nods, setting the pristine gun on his bedside table and putting away his kit.

Once he’s finished, he stays sat on the edge of the bed, glancing over at you as you pick at the tears in your jeans. You couldn’t get those images out of your head and you itched to save Carmen before it’s too late.

“How’re you feeling?’ Sam asks with kind words that don’t mean to pry but just to chip what he can. He knows how much time you spend alone on the road. You’re such a sheltered and lonely person but he doesn’t want that for you. Sam can see past the tough exterior and into the shell of just a person who craved to be loved and taken care of. He wanted to be that person for you.

“Antsy. Dean should be back by now, no?” You ask, continuously picking at your jeans but gazing out the window once more. Sam follows your lead, nodding in agreement but returning his main focus back to you.

“He’ll be more careful in the rain,” Sam explained, his soft eyes holding room for the tension he captures behind them. “The others had been missing for at least a week before they passed, we have time,” Sam assures, hoping that you don’t stress yourself out too much over this.

“Talk to Bobby recently?” Sam continues, missing the small talk that you two haven’t really shared yet. He can tell you’re more tense than usual, it’s like you’re distancing yourself. You look up from your knees, the messy pit that makes you sick stirring in you yet again as his eyes match yours.

“Last week, just to check in,” you said, offering a suspiciously less amount of information than usual. Your leg bounces against its prop on the coffee table before you.

“You can talk to me,” Sam urges, keeping his eyes on you as you dart from your knees to the window and then to him. You don’t know what’s with you right now specifically, but the tension of the unspoken feelings bubbling under your ribs is becoming a real bitch.

“Just a stressful few weeks, nothing I can’t handle,” you smile assuringly. He can see right through it, but he decides to let it go for now since the familiar rumble of the Impala growls outside, awaiting its two passengers. Sam lets out a defeated breath, standing and grabbing his coat and gun. You jump to your feet, ready to get this show on the road. You slip on your own coat and check yourself over to make sure you have everything you need.

“What’s a little more stress, huh?” Sam jokes sarcastically, making a mental note to keep an extra close eye on you. You scoff a dry laugh, leading the way to the Impala while Sam locks up the room. The ten feet to the vehicle being enough to soak halfway through to your skin.

“Fuckin’ rain!” You exasperated, sliding into the back seat and letting the comforting heat of the Impala warm you right back up.

“Tell me about it, can’t see a damn thing,” Dean complains, his wipers on full blast and his defroster bellowing a low hum through the car that you had to speak over.

Dean’s years and years of constant driving cause for good reflexed and skilled roadwork as he navigates the slick roads, leading you three to the main event.

After a pop-quiz and mostly dried clothes, Dean pulls the Impala around the museum and to the back entrance that neighbors cellar doors that lead straight down. Once everyone is caught up, loaded with the proper weapon, and ready to get soaked again for a measly few feet of travel, they pile out of the car and to the latched and locked doors. Dean skips the pleasantries of Sam simply picking the lock and just shoots straight through the already rusted metal.

Dean descends first, followed by you, and finished by Sam.

The room is inky black and thickly dank, the moisture almost making it difficult to breathe. Echoing drips of supposed leaks from the rain sing around the trio, making it nearly impossible to locate one specific stream. Dean kicks on his flashlight and you and Sam follow.

“Stay close, stay alert,” Dean instructs, going to look up a nearby hall while Sam checks a few closets and you scan the main area for clues. There are dozens of totes down here full with scrapped art supplies, broken furniture, and piles of betrayed books. Nothing is standing out, though, so you follow behind Dean who has progressed up the hallway. Sam watched both yours and his brother's backs.

A loud clunk echos from the opposite side of the basement but the echo makes it bounce around to the main room you three had landed in. Sam jumps to double check to make sure that behind them was clear and Dean retreats from the room to see what’s going on. You shrug at Dean's raised brow and progress further into the hall, taking the lead.

You turn down a corner to find an even longer hallway with more off-shoots that basically make this place a maze. You sigh heavily, dropping your light a tad and look back at the brothers who have closed the distance between you surprisingly fast.

“There's too much ground,” you whisper to them both. Sam’s face contorts into a ‘no way, don't even think about it’ but Dean's interruption stops Sam from speaking his protests.

“They’re right, Sammy, we’ll cover more ground,” he whispers, trying to reason with his brother, “just stay close, no more than shouting distance,” Dean lays it out like he’s your father, but you listen because you trust his judgement. At the moment at least.

You have a hard time being too far from Sam, though. Seeing the aftermath of the Djinns' torment makes the uneasy swirl in your stomach worsen, but this time it isn’t at the ball of nerves that Sam's presence tweaks, it’s the thought of him being strung up there like a piece of meat. You have to rationalize that Sam is a grown man. You have to take a deep breath and assure yourself that he can handle this. After all, it is him and his brother who invited you to this hunt. You were the novice here.

After scanning over a few rooms, you progress further down the hall, and the further you go, you start to hear it. Soft whimpers, like helpless cries, sirening you to a room at the far end of the hall. You know you should grab one or both of the brothers’ attention, but you can’t help yourself. The images flash again- desiccated husks of once lively people dangling like a crude ornament. This has to be Carmen and you have to help her.

Your heart races as you get closer to the cracked door that pours out the skin-crawling whines. As you turn the corner, there she is. You're halted for a moment, frozen as you take in her state. A poor woman with her hands bound above her head and a dried trail of blood staining her temple. She has a similar IV but she isn’t still like you imagined, it’s almost like she’s experiencing sleep paralysis.

The poison is running out. Sam told you about this, you remember. The poison inflicted by touch only lasts so long and the Djinn needs to come back to dose its victim again. The Djinn will be back soon if it isn’t stalking around already.

You really should’ve grabbed the boys’ attention.

It’s too late for that now, though. You fish out your pocket knife, flicking it open and approaching the zip-ties that cinch Carmen's wrists.

“You’re okay, I’ve gotchyou,” you murmur quietly, hoping to god she can hear you just a little bit. Just enough to know that she’s safe now. You look around the room, keeping an eye out for the Djinn. You support most of Carmens weight into your side, stepping cautiously back out into the hallway. You almost make it past the barrier but a low growl from behind you makes you jump.

The figure behind you is a dark frame, shadowy and devoid of any light under the glowing blue tattoos and beams of eyes. It’s like the creature is pure nothingness despite its veins of sapphire lining its figure. As it steps out into the light, moonlight floods in just enough that you can actually see past the light-polluted skin of what looks to be just man. Well, a man that’s almost eight feet tall and glowing like he just stepped out of the Chernobyl blast.

Carmen starts to stir, muttering something incomprehensible, but you ignore it because there is no time anyways. You stumble back, the Djinn looming over you. You manage to set Carmen down gently enough to leave while you lead away the creature that lurks closer and you can tell it’s furious with you. You can see it in his eyes. The cool blue that should be a calming, and if anything- dull, color instead pierced through your chest like an alarming red. You take bigger steps back before flipping a table in your path and darting the opposite way.

The piercing metal followed by an angry growl was definitely enough to get the boys’ attention and startle Carmen to be fully conscious again. The brothers call after you, their words dying in their throats as they round the corner to see Carmen on the ground. Somehow, during your short-lived rescue mission, you managed to settle your coat over her shoulders. Sam instantly recognizes that it’s yours and while Dean quickly crouches to her aide, Sam flashes his light to the mess of a spilled table on the floor. A few paint bottles are still rolling along the cement.

“Dean, get her out of here, I’m going after them,” Sam says without looking Dean's way at all. This time it’s Deans protests that go unspoken.

—---

Freshly ground coffee is Sam's specialty after being gifted a gourmet coffee bean grinder for Christmas. Ever since then, he’s gotten up before you, just like usual, but spent the better half of his morning crafting the perfect blend of coffee that you got to taste test along with blueberry and lemon muffins that Dean and Cas brought last time they visited.

Your guilty pleasures usually starred your mornings, overly sweet breakfast items followed by way too much caffeine from many taste-tests, and even a special morning delight from yours truly.

Your mornings were the absolute highlight of your day and a great way to start the day too.

Comfortable footsteps climb the steps outside of your bedroom door, and soon, Sam’s large figure spills through the frame, filtering in like an early sunrise. Sunshine that is hopeful, trusting, blindly accepting of things to come. His eyes rake over your body that’s half out of the blankets due to overheating from the night and he looks along the sleeplines you have acquired on your thigh, up your hip, and stretching out to your lower back. Exposed, lush skin, calling him in like a lustful sin.

“Good morning, my love,” his voice wakes you up enough to smell the mouth-watering blend of fresh coffee and warm muffins. You prop your head up just enough to smile fondly at him as he sits on the open bedspace by your legs. He sets the muffin wrapped in a paper towel on your bedside table along with your steaming coffee.

“What’s the concoction today?” Your sleep-dampened voice makes Sam smile a bit brighter. His hand rests on your exposed leg, running his palm up your thigh, over your underwear and back down.

“I mixed some of that Brazilian blend with the last of the hazelnut dark roast,” he tilts his head so his face is level with yours, still running his lightly calloused hand up your skin, untainted from the survival of The Life. You hummed in delight from the goosebumps that blessed your silky skin and also in anticipation at the mention of one of your favorite flavors.

You close your eyes to stretch and Sam just watches as your body twists to land on your back, but as you go to sit up, his face falls into a grimace as his hand quickly comes up to pin you down. You’re fully alert now, heart racing.

“S-Sam.?” You test, unsure of why he’s acting this way so suddenly.

“N-No, don’t go, you can’t leave me,” he shakes his head, a heartbreaking expression painting his gorgeous face.

“I’m not going-.”

“You need to wake up!”

Another Sam echoes in your head, and your own face contorts in confusion. Your heart is aching.

“Don’t go, please,” the Sam that pins you down begs.

“Please come back to me…”

He sounds broken, scared, so lonely. You shake your head, shoving Sam off of you. He looks offended, hurt. But this isn't right. No, Carmen, The Djinn. No.

No.

The poison.

The facade.

No.

The poison.

“C’mon, you’re okay. You have to be okay,” roughly calloused hands run over your cheek, a thumb tracing under your eye. You’re dizzy and disoriented, but you already can tell that this is what’s real. This Sam is real. The fogginess in your ears clear up as the pattering of rain fills the noise. When you can pry your eyes open enough, you see Sam crouched in front of you. He breathes out a heavy puff of air, a soft laugh escaping his lips. An expression that is strictly joyous lights up his face like a guiding moonlight in the dead of night. The kind of light that exposes the danger of things, and the price at which they come.

It’s the kind of light that floods everything about your dream downstream, carrying away the silly scenario. The kind of life that people like you and him never get.

“You’re okay,” he repeats, but this time he believes it.

A crack of thunder lights up the sky. A shocking mix of light you don’t quite understand. It’s not a beacon you can fizzle down to some self-justifying reason because it’s just a simple flash of electricity. It’s a crack in the storm above. It’s not some metaphor to make you feel better about your choices. It is a singular bolt that shatters through the night sky, startling you because you didn’t expect it.

Just like you didn’t expect the man in front of you to be the man that he is. He isn’t some ignorantly blissful lazy morning, and he certainly isn’t some moody, grey reflection of light that pulls at your dread. He is simply the split second vein of light that came out of the nowhere storm that is your life. But unlike the crackle of light in the sky that disappears before it’s even heard, he’s not flickering away- because he found his conduit that will house his stay.

It’s him.

It’s you.

And you realize that you’ve been a fucking fool.

You push up to hug him tightly, eyes wide and heart still racing.

“Sam.” His name blesses your lips for the first real time. This time you’re accepting it, you’re allowing it.

His arms secure you close and he buries his face in your neck, taking in your scent. You can’t pinpoint the exact moment the boundaries between you two broke, but you knew they were crumbled to dust by the way he held you.

One of his hands wrapped all the way around your back to rest against your ribs on the opposite side and his other cradled the back of your neck.

This wasn’t a hug out of just a close call, this was a hug that made up for lost time. It wasn’t just the rush of saving your life, it was the flood of allowing yourself to feel what you so desperately have been hiding for too goddamn long.

This was a brand new hug with murmurs of brand new names and a brand new set of rules for the both of you.

This was the start of you.

———————

thank you so much for reading!! <3

>pictures are not my own, i have the originals linked here (pinterest) >>check out my other works here

[cherryfennec]

Ya know, I just thought of something. In your bad end au, Mario has lost his memories, and you said that even if Mario returns to his body, his memories are still gone.

But I'm sure there has to be something or specifically SOMEONE who can help Mario regain his lost memories. This is the world of Super Mario! There's always a way to save the day!

What I'm saying is that it has to be possible. Which makes BOWSER the biggest liability to the trio.

Think about it, you said it yourself that Bowser would be furious that HE wasn't the one to defeat Mario. And Bowser still has the star rod. Whether consciously or subconsciously, Bowser wishes for mario to get his memories back. Just to get another chance to defeat his nemesis HIMSELF.

Now, the biggest issue with this is that, to my knowledge, Bowser doesn't even know Mario is still around. Let alone walking around without his memories. But that information HAS to get to Bowser at SOME POINT.

Ya, the way I imagine turning into a Shadow by Doo_liss works is that after a while everything what made you you starts to fade. Since the Shadow is an embodiment of the mind then the memories go with him, and so they deteriorate.

Mind magic, if I can call it that, is hard to work with. Both as a writer and in universe magician or sorcerer.

If there's still even the tiniest remnants of a memorys existence it can be brought out of "the dark".

However you can't bring something back from nothing. It can be buried deep but it has to exist. What has ENTIRELY faded can't be patched up. While you could potentially recreate the few missing memories with some consultantiom there's no guarantee you'll fill in everything, there's just too much to account for and with the replacement you provide you will never be able to perfectly recreate it. So even if you do remake some of them the person will never technically be the same. People won't remember every event or what a person was doing alone in a room at a specific date and hour. Maybe they'll be close to their original state but there will always be something missing and you won't know until its pointed out.

As you noted yes, Bowser would be able to bring what is still buried in Marios head or even try to remake some memories with the power of wishing. Once again though you are correct with calling him a liability.

I had to quickly consult the wiki but from what I gather Bowser knows what a Duplighost is. HOWEVER. He hasn't met with one that has Doo_lisses special ability. The information that "he's now Mario and this is his body" by all means could translate to "too bad for you he is dead". If he wished that "Mario was alive" nothing would happen because he is alive, in two places at once even. If he somehow wished for "Mario to get his body back" nothing would happen either because Mario IS in his body. The Shadow isn't Mario as of now, Distra is (nickname I gave possessed Mario).

This leads to the fact that he doesn't know the Shadow exists, you are correct! The only person who carries that information is Lux (nickname I use for Super Dim) but he has no reason to share it as of the current events, because why?

Bowser is NOT a sorcerer. He prefers to do things himself rather than use magic. That's why he'd rather power himself up and fight than get rid of the enemy with a flick of the Rod (that coupled with other things makes him not use the ability to wish too much otherwise the place would be in shambles). Even then if he did want to use it for something really specific, he's not a very skilled spellcaster. That job belongs to Kammy and Kamek. His first instinct isn't "let me pull out my wand" so he might need a push to get the idea of what to do.

So in the end would Aster help Mario regain memories? Yes. Would he help him reclaim his body? Yes in the name of getting to beat up his arch enemy himself. Will he eventually learn of the Shadows existence? Well the way I'm most likely going to route this story, yes.

The only true evils here are Distra and The Queen, Aster and Lux have their own goals and in the case of saving Mario they align despite their different reasoning. It might just take a moment for that realisation to kick in.

[ladysophiebeckett]

This post is super long and idk who will read it but if there's anything I love to do on the internet its post aimlessly to no one. (anyway)

It gets said a lot that Betty was naïve in how she entered her relationship with Armando, but we fail to take into account how desperate Betty was to live her own life. From the beginning of her character arc she talks about needing a change.

It starts with Roman's invitation, saying he has a guy for Betty but she needs to ask permission (at her 25 yrs of age). Don Hermes says no.

Betty argues back. Don Hermes' excuse is 'you can't go out with strangers'. But Betty isn't really fighting about going out with some guy. Deep down she knows Roman and his neighborhood troublemaking annoying friends are up to no good. It's not about them. It's about her wanting something, asking for it and being denied.

The scene ends like this:

He says the world is dangerous for women and she doesn't understand that. She claims that she can defend herself and he says the above. Betty runs off crying. Dona Julia goes after her and when she returns Don Hermes asks if she's calmed down. From that question alone, it seems as if this isn't the first time Betty has fought with her dad about the rules he imposes upon her. Nor is it the first time that Betty has ran out of a room crying bc she fought with him and lost.

This has happened before.

I don't want to assume that everyone feels the way I feel about Don Hermes, which is that he's annoying. (I'm using 'annoying' as a broad term to describe his overprotection and the traditional\patriarchal way he runs his household, fyi, I know its there. I see it. But I'm not going to delve in that direction).

But there's a reason he's annoying (overprotective). Everything he does for Betty is laced with good intentions, but those good intentions are a double edged sword. At this stage in the story he appears overprotective and suffocating. It's when Dona Julia is pleading with him to let Betty go out that we hear a mention about Miguel (whose original name was 'Juan Ramon' but gets changed to 'Miguel' later on)--a guy who Betty cared about but 'disappeared'.

Let's backtrack to Betty running out of the room when Don Hermes says no. She cries to her mother about how overprotective and controlling her dad is. It's one of the few times Betty is open with someone about how she feels about the way he treats her. We get brief information about how he decided her education, about how she was sent to catholic school, how she wasn't allowed to hang out with the other girls bc she was too young, that the only male friend she was allowed to have was Nicolas and it was bc they were 'practically raised together' (and bc they knew his mother).

She continues to say ‘how is a man going to see me as a normal woman if you keep me treating me like a child? When the only thing I do is stay locked away in this room with only books and stuffed animals?’ The Miguel Situation gets its first mention and its foreshadowed that it hurt Don Hermes and Dona Julia to see their daughter suffer, but Betty says that one bad experience shouldn’t be a reason why she stays that way the rest of her life (which is very brave of her to say considering we know later how afraid she is of letting herself fall deeper in love with Armando).

The last thing she says to Dona Julia is key,

Betty's running theme is change. The eagerness of something to change. Either she needs to change or her dad needs to change. Something needs to change bc she knows she can't keep living the way she's living. She's desperate for something, anything to happen in her life. She goes on to say:

'Queira la major estudiante, la tuvo. La queria graduada con honores, especialiaziones, la tuvo. La queira trabajando en un gran empresa, la tiene trabajando en un a gran empresa. Yo ya les cumpli. Ahora quiero cumplir con mi vida.’

Again, it's not only about going out with some guy. It's about Betty living her own life now that she's done all the things that have been asked of her. From Betty's pov, she's played by the rules, so at what point is she free to do what she wants?

She is the quintessential good daughter, quintessential good student, and later on the quintessential loyal employee that becomes the quintessential loyal clandestine girlfriend--bc those were the rules she was told to play by. But she's at a point in her life where that's not enough to sustain her.

After hearing this, Dona Julia goes back to Don Hermes to plead on behalf of her daughter, however she says something concerning:

Dona Julia is afraid that if Don Hermes doesn't loosen his restrictions, that Betty will have a nervous breakdown and fall into a depression that will cause her to move out of the house.

Sidestepping the 'what if our daughter moves out' comment---

When Betty confides in Armando about her relationship with Miguel and how it ended, she doesn't call it 'depression'--however the way she describes it is very intune with what depression is.

She didn't want to live, she cried many nights, she missed classes at university. She lost the motivation to do anything. This is more than just a 'break up'. It's a traumatic experience and its aftermath is a period of depression that Betty almost didn't survive. Her parents watched her go through this, helplessly and Betty claims it's why her dad protects her so much.

Here we see her showing that she understands Don Hermes and why he does what he does. However, when we see Betty's childhood flashbacks post letter, we see that Don Hermes has always been this way as a consequence of how the world treats his daughter. We see that Betty gets bullied, marginalized--no loving parent wants their child to suffer. So he isolates her from that world so that nothing bad can ever touch her. He tries to provide her with everything he can--books and stuffed animals. Things to fill a void with.

No one can blame him for wanting to protect his daughter, but by isolating her he inadvertently teaches Betty that the solution to when things get hard is to lock yourself away and internalize everything.

In Don Hermes' defense his child rearing is mostly focused on ethics and math. A parent does what they can. So it's no surprise that after the Miguel Incident, he became even more tightly reigned over Betty's life. But again, it does more harm than good.

After Betty's ghosted by Roman and his sketchy loser friend, she's disappointed and cries. Don Hermes has no idea how to comfort or understand a 25 year old woman as he does not see her as one. He assuages her like a father would a child. He says 'We'll go do something together as a family. We'll go see a movie on Friday, champ'. (Not a literal translation). Then he says to Dona Julia, 'If I hadn't given her permission to begin with, then she wouldn't be upset about being (plantada\ghosted)'. He has no problem being seen as the bad guy in Betty's eyes if it means she avoids getting hurt in a worse way.

A couple days later, Don Hermes insists on driving her to work instead of her walking to her bus stop bc he fears she'll run into Roman and his current loser friends.

Betty says to him:

'Let me handle it' she says. Don Hermes doesn't look convinced. And then immediately Nicolas shows up at her door:

Dona Julia is also looking out for Betty and off screen took it upon herself to have Nicolas walk her to the bus stop that morning. She knows Betty needs some kind independence but using Nicolas as an intermediary gives her reassurance.

Betty rejects both options and rushes out the door. Don Hermes, pulling a Dona Julia, takes Nicolas with him and follows Betty on her way to her stop just in case something happens. What they see is Betty doing what she said she would do--handle it.

When left to her own devices Betty can and will handle things on her own, but both her parents insist in their own ways, to keep her in a protective bubble.

As the series progresses we see Betty become friends with el curatel, more specifically Aura Maria. We can all recall when AM has Betty join her on a double date and said date doesn't end well for Betty. Her date is uninterested, rude--despite Betty's best efforts. She gets home late and her dad is not happy. He calls her a 'descarda' when he sees the car dropping her off and then claims she didn't ask permission, to which Betty says 'Well I called my mom and let her know bc you weren't home'. Which leads to this:

Betty becomes the sole breadwinner of her household at some point but Don Hermes reminds her that that doesn't give her any right to decide what she can do with her free time or what time she can come home at. He then makes claims about AM and the men AM is associated with. Betty then defends her and the men (even tho they were lame):

Betty's face here is trying to contain herself but you can tell she's upset. Especially bc it wasn't the best evening, so to be getting yelled at over it doesn't feel worth it. But also, you can see Betty has a fire in her eyes; quiet frustration and inner rebelliousness bc she has been reminded yet again, that she has no freedom despite having a job in a 'great company' and having all the graduation merits and on top of that, now financially supporting her family. It's not enough. And might never be enough.

Despite this, Betty reigns her anger in and goes back to being the quintessential good daughter:

Don Hermes is not fully convinced but he appears to calm down after that.

A lighter altercation between them happens when he takes Betty home after a lanaziamento. He accuses her of taking too many liberties bc of the job that she has, criticizes her being out too much, criticizes her friends. His main worry is that she forgets her traditional values (Betty: Yo sigo siendo de las casa).

As we know, all Betty does is work and get caught in whatever mess el curatel gets her into. Regardless, Don Hermes doesn't like it. He doesn't like the women Betty surrounds herself with and he doesn't like her work or its events:

'The (fashion) world is too much, it's not for you'\'I know it's not my world, it's my job'.

I don't think Don Hermes is trying to be cruel when he says this, rather, I think he fears Betty will one day throw away the values and ethics he's taught her. (She kinda sorta does) Before she leaves for Cartagena, he insists she take a picture of him and Dona Julia, which gives weight to another inner fear of his; that Betty will forget her family and where she came from.

He stubbornly refuses to see (and accept) that Betty is an adult woman who wants to act like an adult woman. She does want to go out with her friends and dance and have the occasional drink. She does wants to date and meet someone, fall in love and in return show the love she's capable of giving.

She's desperate for the opportunity but believes it will never happen for her, so she decides to only dedicate herself to work and by doing so--and out of loneliness, she embraces her fantasies of (an) Armando that we know doesn't exist bc he's the only one that sees her value as a person and a professional. But when Mariana reads her the tarot cards---

Key word here: Change. Both of your lives are going to change.

Betty has been seeking a change in her life. This feeds into her illusions but she doesn't truly start to believe anything could happen until Armando begins to start acting differently around her.

We know it's the plan taking its course but for Betty this is a dream come true. But even in the beginning she's cautious, she doesn't know if the kiss they shared was a mistake and would rather not mention it to him in order to continue keeping the work relationship they already have (and she's happy to maintain if it means to being in his life).

But because Armando seeks her out, it's difficult for her to resist despite the type of relationship he's offering her. In a similar vein to Armando post letter, when he mentally refuses to put the clues together about why she's acting differently--Betty doesn't put together the recent embargo with his sudden interest in her. Where Armando chooses to be blind; Betty's inner frustrations and illusions of having something in her life that's not just work and an over controlled life, speak louder.

There is naiveté in play. It's true that she doesn't know a lot about the world but it's at the result of the overprotectiveness of Don Hermes that Betty doesn't read the signs as clearly until she reads the letter and is cruelly brought down back to earth.

Betty thought that Armando was the change she had been yearning for and her desperation for that change, for that dream to come true---is why she accepts the relationship he's offering her. He's trusted her implicitly until then, so why would she doubt him now?

The Letter happens and Betty's first instinct, the first action she wants to take is to run away. She doesn't want to go back to work, but Catalina reminds her of her responsibilities, that she can't just jump ship when people like Armando are depending on her. Betty especially can't leave as her parents are also depending on her and to quit suddenly with no warning would raise suspicions.

TW: for brief mentions of ED.

(I talk briefly about Betty skipping meals. I don't think the character has an eating disorder per say, but if you gotten this far and this makes the reader uncomfortable, count 5 paragraphs down to skip).

Betty enters the Gaslighting Arc depressed and dead inside. She's no longer a student, she can't afford to take days off to lay comatose in her bed. She also can't let her parents find out that something like Miguel (only worse) has happened to her again.

Post letter on, the series makes a habit of showing Betty either skipping breakfast or skipping dinner. Usually this is just done to show that a character is in a rush and usually bears no importance.

But this happens multiple times. At El Meson she orders vodka and they never get dinner. At Le Noir, despite Nicolas saying they make great eggs, she has him order wine. The night of Armando's last lanzamiento, Armando knows she hasn't eaten and offers to bring her dinner which she rejects. And lastly her diary entry\ voice over from the night she buys the mercedes\rejects Armando's call:

'Desvanezco' is to 'fade'\'vanish'. '...I am fading away before him while he only cares about his company' (rough translation).

Betty acknowledges here that she's not taking care of herself. In the first entry Post Letter she states that she doesn't have the strength to resuscitate herself again. She's metaphorically dead but the reality is that she's depressed and the only thing sustaining her during this period is her anger. (and alcohol). And once the Junta Directiva happens and everything is revealed, Betty in only left with the hurt.

(TW: End of ED mention)

Audience members get annoyed with Betty in the first half of the Cartagena Arc bc she continues to put herself down--Catalina is almost the audience insert with how put off she is with Betty's self deprecation.

It's not healthy or helpful for Betty to view herself this way and yes, it's a learned behavior that she needs to break desperately. But what the audience forgets is that Betty is tired. This is a woman that has tried to change things in her life and she always gets it wrong. Her first foray into love is a failure bc he used her, her attempts at dating are another failure, when she tries to change her look it's another failure; she put all her love and hope into Armando and then he betrays her.

She's been beaten down so much by those attempts, on top of society's view of her--that of course once in Cartagena she immediately feels out of place. Of course her first instinct, yet again, is to run back to the safe haven her dad has always provided for her.

'This isn't my world' which harkens back to Don Hermes telling her a similar thing, '...That's not for you'. It's not helpful and fuels Betty's fight or flight. And she's always picking flight.

This is Betty's first time away from home. This is the first time she has ever been away from her parents. That's why the airport scene with them is so dramatic. She's never slept a night away that's not in her house. A 'niña de la casa' no more. This is the opportunity that she's been waiting for but she doesn't see that yet amid the heartbreak.

Catalina has to guide her and essentially push her out of her comfort zone; and challenge her way of thinking and seeing the world and herself. Betty's always wanted changes in her life but she never knew that in order to embrace new things into your life, you have to be open about it mentally. You can't hide and internalize everything in your entire life. It's damaging to oneself.

In the middle of her trip she tells Nicolas, "No. I can't leave. I'm living something very important here. They (the board) can wait'. Betty is finally putting herself first and putting her foot down. Had they insisted on her presence at the beginning of her trip, she would have gone back.

Betty didn't just need to get away from Armando, she needed to get away from her family, specifically her dad. The internal and external changes that Betty goes through in Cartagena would not have been possible in Bogota. Not with Don Hermes breathing down her neck and Dona Julia flustered in the background. It wouldn't have happened as he wouldn't have allowed it.

Betty needed to leave the protective bubble of her family to learn that she can put herself together, that she can handle it and come back stronger.

Don Hermes' goodbye at the airport consists of giving Catalina instructions of things Betty isn't allowed to do (she doesn't drink, she doesn't party). He, again, refuses to see her as an adult woman. But he is forced to when she comes back from Cartagena:

He goes on to say, 'I feel like I'm lecturing another person, not my daughter'.

But that doesn't stop him as he lectures her into the night:

This is inadvertently what he's taught her to do tho--run away from a situation bc it became hard.

However Betty defends herself and says she came back to deal with issue at hand and take responsibility for her part in it. She's not proud of what she did.

'Don't think I did all of that and then went on vacation. I needed a change in my life'.

This is the change Betty truly needed, the one she's been waiting for and the one that sticks. She needed to learn to see the value in herself, realize that she's not the only one who has ever suffered and more importantly learning not to abandon herself as soon she gets hurt.

No one else was ever going to give her that. Not a relationship, not her family, not her friends. Those people (specifically her family) may love her but in certain instances their love and affection is a blind spot for them and can inadvertently hold her back bc of their insistence on protecting her from the world.

My personal feelings for Don Hermes aside, he loves his daughter and everything he does is well intentioned. He's not necessarily a bad person or bad father, but his over protection is suffocating and his refusal to see that his daughter is no longer a child plays a part in Betty's arc about wanting people to see her as she is--A person that is smart and capable and deserving of respect.

He plays a big part in why Betty does what she does, her inner rebelliousness, her frustrations come from the restrictions he imposes on her. He's not wrong about certain things but he's not 100% right about how he goes about them when it comes to Betty.

As a husband...well.

Anyway.

Betty becomes more independent Post Cartagena and her dad kind of slowly accepts it, especially when it's said in passing that she as a midnight curfew. He's still annoying, but that is simply his character trait.

If you made it this far, thank you. There is no prize except for the inner satisfaction of finishing this post.

[veliseraptor]

May Reading Recap

A Memory Called Empire and A Desolation Called Peace by Arkady Martine. Rereading A Memory Called Empire was a treat - an expected treat, but it was good to find out that it lived up to memory. I liked A Desolation Called Peace a little bit less, but only a little bit - it very much followed up directly on the themes from A Memory Called Empire that I appreciated.

The Last Graduate and The Golden Enclaves by Naomi Novik. I devoured these books. I'm very surprised by this fact, since I'm not generally a "magic school" person, but there we are; Naomi Novik apparently managed to make me one temporarily. The last book was a particularly strong one and did some very interesting things with its worldbuilding that'd been set up in previous books and delivered in the last one.

Armageddon: What the Bible Really Says About the End by Bart Ehrman. I've read and enjoyed some Bart Ehrman previously, but I feel like the quality of his books has diminished from his earlier work, and this book confirmed that for me. I'm a bit of an eschatology enthusiast (the main reason I picked this up, as well as the fact that (a) it was available at the library one time and I grabbed it on a whim and (b) author recognition), but I learned very little from this book that I didn't already know.

Strange Beasts of China by Yan Ge. One of the things that made me happiest about reading this book was, unfortunately, the fact that I thought I recognized the ways in which it was referring back to Classic of Mountains and Seas, which I felt (again, unfortunately) sort of smug about. Checking the Wikipedia page for the book, apparently "Additionally, each chapter begins with a brief description of the beast which, in the original writing, was written in Classical Chinese, while the rest of the book was written in standard Chinese," which is so cool and I wish had been conveyed in the translation.

In general though, this was a good one, though I feel like the descriptive copy was a little misleading. It's less a mystery than a series of interconnected stories following a central character investigating the titular strange beasts, and learning how they connect to her life and history.

Dark Heir by C.S. Pacat. I liked this one significantly more than Dark Rise - which I guess makes sense, since a lot of Dark Rise was setting up the concept that most compels me about the series (the main character being the reincarnation of a notorious villain from the past). It still feels YA in the way that YA usually does, which isn't necessarily a bad thing if stylistically less my preference (and something I feel worth mentioning in the context of a possible recommendation). The ending was a gut-punch of a fun kind. I will be looking forward to reading the third one.

"There Would Always Be a Fairy-Tale": Essays on Tolkien's Middle Earth by Verlyn Flieger. I loved Splintered Light and was disappointingly underwhelmed by most of the essays in this collection. There were a couple that were more interesting to me, but on the whole a lukewarm response.

The Doors of Eden by Adrian Tchaikovsky. Adrian Tchaikovsky wins again!!! I don't love this one quite as much as I've enjoyed the Children of Time series, but I actually think that I liked it more than The Final Architecture series. Fascinating concept, as usual fascinating worldbuilding for societies wildly different from our own, and dedicated to themes of cooperation and unity-across-difference without it feeling preachy or didactic.

Aphrodite and the Rabbis: How the Jews Adapted Roman Culture to Create Judaism as We Know It by Burton Visotzky. This was a good one! I already was familiar with some of the information here, but not all of it, and the work around art and architecture was new to me. I felt in some ways like Visotzky overstated his case a little, but on the whole a very interesting read.

Texts of Terror: Literary-Feminist Readings of Biblical Narratives by Phyllis Trible. This one is kind of a classic of feminist Bible scholarship - a short book that does a close reading of the text of the stories of four biblical women who suffer in some way (Hagar, Tamar, the unnamed woman from Judges 19, and Jephthah's daughter). It's a powerful work, though it felt a little basic to me on the whole - probably due to the fact that it's relatively early scholarship on the subject working from a literary angle.

Nevernight by Jay Kristoff. Books with footnotes are very hit-or-miss for me - not meaning books with contextual footnotes, but books with footnotes that are part of the conceit of the text itself. Some authors can pull it off; others really shouldn't try. In this case, the author felt a bit too taken with his own cleverness to pull it off; in general I felt like this book was trying a little too hard to be edgy and voice-y and ended up just feeling kind of shallow. It was a fun read, in some ways, but not a good one, and I'm torn on if I'm going to continue reading the series. If I do, it probably won't be in a hurry.

Tolkien and Alterity ed. by Christopher Vaccaro. I was excited about this particular collection of essays (you can probably guess why) and found them mostly uninspiring in the reading. The exception was a bibliographic essay on the treatment of race in Tolkien scholarship, which proposed more use of reader response theory, a suggestion which seems fruitful to me and more interesting than debates about whether or not Tolkien/his works are or aren't racist.

Knock Knock, Open Wide by Neil Sharpson. I feel like this is going to sound more critical than I really mean it to, but this was a perfectly adequate horror novel. I wouldn't call it exceptional, and it didn't freak me out, but I read it pretty much straight through and enjoyed the experience on the whole.

Thousand Autumns: vol. 4 by Meng Xi Shi. I liked this volume more than I've liked some of the others, and am enjoying the development of the central relationship, though I feel a little like I've been bait-and-switched about the level of fucked up that it's involved. Maybe that's why I'm enjoying this one a little less than I feel like I should: I was expecting more fucked-up between the two main characters based on the initial conceit and don't feel like the novel has really delivered on that. But I am enjoying Yan Wushi getting a little more...outwardly affectionate toward Shen Qiao, and Shen Qiao's concomitant confusion about it.

This Wretched Valley by Jenny Kiefer. More than an adequate horror novel but less than an excellent one, I felt like this book relied more on gross-out horror than I typically prefer. Still, was definitely spooky, and confirmed for me that wilderness horror gets to me in a very specific way.

I'm presently reading Goodbye to Berlin by Christopher Isherwood, which I have mixed feelings about (not negative! just mixed). I'm not sure what I'm going to read after that, save that I'm now trying to alternate genres and might try to read some nonfiction, which I've been sort of off for a while. Otherwise I'll probably just end up reading Translation State by Ann Leckie, and possibly A Fire in the Deep by Vernor Vinge. But I'm really going to try for some more nonfiction next month.

[fluentmoviequoter]

The Freak and The Princess (I)

Summary: Eddie lets you walk by during his rant in the cafeteria, stumped by your quietness and manners toward the town freak. He then decides to be the perfect gentlemen. [Part 1 of 5 depending on if anyone actually reads it.] 2k+ Words

Warnings: none! Just more fluff than a Pomeranian. There is also a very good chance Eddie is OOC but Imma risk it (if you get that reference, we should be friends).

A/N: (I'm terrified to do this.) This is the first thing that I've ever posted so constructive criticism is welcomed and appreciated! I've been writing stories like this for years but have been too scared to post them for a variety of reasons, but I love writing and reading so if one person can get a little joy from this, then my goal is reached. I edited this and proofread it, but please point out any errors or things that you like! And please send requests; all the characters I write for are under my tag #characters! Hope you enjoy! :)

The Freak and The Princess

Part One: My Princess

Being as quiet as I am has its pros and cons. 

Pros: I don’t get noticed often, can easily observe everything around me, and can escape my real life whenever I want. 

Cons: when I do get noticed, it gets real. 

I’ve lived in Hawkins since eighth grade. Now I’m a senior. I don’t have any consistent friends, although Steve Harrington came to be someone I knew I could trust and talk to after dealing with the Russians side by side last year. The only person I noticed for myself was Eddie Munson. He was a big, bad high schooler when I moved here, and I guess that hasn’t changed. Since he’s two years older than me, we’ve never talked or met, but I know who he is, and he’s one of the few people who can make me smile without even realizing I’m there. 

I was walking through the cafeteria, trying to get outside away from all the noise and people, when I heard a voice I’d recognize anywhere say, “But as long as you’re into band, or... science. Or parties. Or A GAME WHERE YOU TOSS BALLS INTO LAUNDRY BASKETS!!”

I watched as he walked down the Hellfire lunch table, stopping at the end and responding to Jason’s comment with fake devil horns. He continued talking, jumping off the table and finishing. He stepped back, motioning for me and another girl ahead of me to walk by him. 

“Thanks,” I whispered, smiling as I met his eye. I felt his eyes on me as I walked by, and I decided he was trying to figure out who I was. I waited in an empty classroom until most people cleared out before walking to my locker and gathering my things. 

“Hey,” someone said beside me. I jumped slightly before turning to see Eddie leaning against the lockers and looking at me. 

“Hi, Eddie,” I said quietly.

“You know my name?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Man, now I feel bad. Let me guess?” 

I laughed lightly and nodded, closing my locker and picking up my bag. 

“Marcie? No, that doesn’t fit. Kelsey? Too cheerleader-y. Princess?”

“That your final guess?” I smiled. He nodded, a proud look on his face. My watch beeped, and I pressed it to silence it. 

“That’s my cue. See you around, Eddie!” I said, walking out the door. 

“See ya, princess!” he called. I blushed, glad to have my back to him. The next day I went to school as usual; until lunch. I walked into the cafeteria, on my way through as always, when I felt someone walk up beside me.

“Hey, so I haven’t seen you around before and wanted to introduce myself. I’m Jason Carver.”

I kept walking, not talking to him. “What, I can’t even get a name? Pretty girl like you has to have a pretty name!” I was at the door when he grabbed my wrist, “Look, I get that you’re shy. All I’m asking for is a name, beautiful.” 

He was surprisingly cordial, but I knew there had to be a catch. 

I thought quickly, deciding to say, “Arwen.” 

I pulled my hand from him and rushed outside. After my last class, I walked to my locker, hoping to see Eddie again, but soon my watch beeped, and I headed to work.

“Hey, kiddo, how was school?” Steve asked as I walked into Family Video and pulled my vest on. I shrugged and started stocking tapes. I heard the door open then close before Steve spoke to me again. “Something happen?” I shook my head no. “I’m gonna go check on Robin. I’ll be right back,” he said, moving past me quietly.

“Princess?” I heard from the other end of the aisle. 

I looked over to see Eddie with two tapes in his hand. I smiled at him and quietly said, “Hi.”

“Fancy meeting you here. Should'a known The Hair got to you,” he smiled, standing closer to me. 

“Take it easy, Munson,” Steve warned as he returned to the counter. 

Eddie rolled his eyes, causing me to laugh lightly. His smile widened, and he held two movies from the new release pile. “Which one?” I gestured to The Goonies, watching as he nodded and slid the other back where he’d pulled it from. 

“Didn’t see you at lunch today. You race through the cafeteria again?”

“Munson, leave her-“ Steve started before stopping when he heard me talking.

“Got corned by Carver and had to make a run for it,” I answered.

Steve jumped the counter, pointing at me as he rounded the corner into the aisle. “Did you just answer him?” Eddie and I nodded, Steve’s jaw dropping further. “How long have you two known each other?”

“Uh,” Eddie looked at his watch, “thirty-six hours.”

“And you’re already talking to him?” Steve asked incredulously. I shrugged in response, continuing what I was doing. 

“She talk to you?” Eddie asked Steve.

“Yeah, but it took her a lot longer to start.”

“I just have a welcoming and calming persona.” I laughed, shaking my head. Eddie walked past me to check out the movie, still bickering with Steve. He turned to me as he walked out, waving. 

“Let me know what you think,” I said, pointing to the tape with my chin. 

“Absolutely. See you tomorrow, princess.”

“Did Eddie 'The Freak' Munson just call you ‘princess’?”

“Yeah. He didn’t know my name, so he started calling me that.”

“Why didn’t you tell him your name?”

“Couldn’t. I don’t mind though.” I fell silent again, ignoring Steve’s questions and comments. I went home a few hours later, finishing my homework and hoping to see Eddie again tomorrow.

~

I exited my fourth-period class, ready to sit by myself for lunch. I walked into the cafeteria, taking a new route the other way around to avoid Jason. I ended up closer to the Hellfire table, smiling as I saw Eddie in a heated conversation with the boys.

“Hey, beautiful,” Jason said, slinging an arm around my shoulders as he came up behind me.

I was too far from the door and knew I couldn’t speak more than a few words. I only had one choice. I shrugged his arm off me and made a beeline for the Hellfire Table. There was an open seat by Eddie, so I slid into it, looking at him as they all silenced, staring at me. I flitted my eyes toward Jason, who glared at me and Eddie. I was shrinking into myself, wanting the floor to swallow me, when I felt Eddie grab my hand, his thumb rubbing the back.

“Guys, this is my princess. Princess, these are the guys,” he said. Then leaned in and whispered, “I won’t let anything happen to you, ‘kay?”

I nodded, squeezing his hand slightly. Jason stormed off, and I breathed a sigh of relief but didn’t move to leave, choosing instead to silently listen to the guys talk about their new Hellfire campaign as I played with Eddie’s rings. Walking out of my last class, I saw someone leaning against the locker beside mine.

“Thanks for the help at lunch,” I said, walking by him and opening my locker.

“Anytime, princess. You working today?”

“No, I’m off the rest of the week. Scheduling error by my idiot boss, Keith.”

Eddie nodded. We both looked out the window when a loud crack of thunder sounded, and rain started pouring down.

“You have a ride?” Eddie asked, pushing off the locker as I closed mine.

“No, but I don’t live far.”

“Absolutely not. I’ll give you a ride.” He slipped his jacket off and laid it over my shoulders. 

“Eddie, you don’t have to. It’s completely fine. I’ve walked home in the rain before.”

“A princess should never walk home. Let alone in the rain. As long as I’m here, it won’t happen again.” He extended his hand, “Milady.”

I placed my hand in his, our fingers interlacing as I said, “Why thank you, kind sir.” We ran to his van, and I gave him directions to my house. “See you tomorrow?” I asked, beginning to take his jacket off as he parked in my driveway. 

“Of course. Keep the jacket, you still have to walk in.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I can pick you up in the morning if it’s still raining like the forecast said.”

“I’d really like that. Thanks for the ride, Eddie.”

“A pleasure, princess.”

I ran to my front porch, shaking the rain off and unlocking my front door. I waved to Eddie as he backed out, then went into the empty house. There was one more day, then solitude. At least I had Eddie and Steve to make the days more tolerable.

~

Eddie kept his promise, pulling up in front of my house as I stepped outside. I moved to return his jacket, but he shook his head, “That’s yours until it stops raining.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep. Have to keep my princess dry and warm.”

‘My princess.’ His princess.

We walked into school together before going our separate ways for classes. I walked into the lunchroom, setting my sights on the Hellfire table. I was just a few steps away when Jason stopped me, standing between me and the table.

“You have a lot of nerve ignoring me,” he said loudly. I saw Eddie pick his head up and look over, making eye contact with me over Jason’s shoulder. He stood up but didn’t move toward me, waiting. 

“You gonna say anything? Can you even talk, Arwen?” I heard a few laughs before Jason continued, “What? Did The Freak sell your soul and your tongue to the devil?” I clenched my jaw, starting to see red. “Just a matter of time until he sacrifices you. Or worse,” he whispered. He backed up with an evil grin. Now everything was red. 

“How do you know he hasn’t sacrificed your soul? Oh, that’s right, your head is so far up your butt you’d notice the extra room,” I responded quickly.

The whole cafeteria broke out into yells and clapping. 

“What’d you just say to me?”

“I said to get your ears checked. Your ego seems to be clogging everything up.”

“Who do you think you are?”

“Not half the person you think you are.”

“If you want attention, baby, just come out and say it.”

I saw Eddie step toward us but gently shook my head, stopping him.

“Maybe I do want attention. But I promise I don’t want yours. So, if you’d be so kind as to move out of my way, I’d appreciate it.” He took a single step to the side. “Oh, and if you so much as look at me or any other member of Hellfire again, I will shove my foot up your butt until your heart stops. Got it?”

Jason nodded and rushed out of the room, everyone cheering again as I walked toward Eddie and grabbed his hand. He nodded, following me to an empty classroom. 

“Why did I do that?” I groaned as I sat down, burying my face in my hands. 

“Because you’re amazing.”

“Now people know who I am, and they’ll talk to me.”

“I’ll become your personal bodyguard. Nobody will be able to talk to my princess.”

The bell rang, and we reluctantly returned to classes, meeting by my locker at the end of the day. 

“Let’s drop by Hellfire real quick.” We entered the room, and he dug through a box before pulling something out and turning around, unfurling one of the signature Hellfire Club t-shirts. “This should fit. You called yourself a member at lunch and we have a very strict policy regarding verbal agreements.”

“Oh, of course,” I smiled and slid it over my other shirt.

We stopped by Family Video to return Eddie’s tape, Steve’s eyes widening as we walked in together, asking, “What’s happening here?”

“Someone stuck it to Carver today, in front of the whole school,” Eddie smiled. 

“Good job, babe,” Steve said as he began returning the movie, “How ya feelin'?”

“I’m ok,” I shrugged, “hoping this doesn’t lead to people trying to talk to me.”

“Well, keep hanging with this freak and it won’t be a problem.” Steve smirked at Eddie.

“Whatever, Hair.” Eddie playfully rolled his eyes. “Let’s go, princess.” He wrapped his arm around me, and I waved to Steve before walking toward the door.

“Take care of my girl,” Steve yelled.

“I’ll take care of MY princess,” Eddie yelled as the door closed.

A/N2: If you read this far, thank you so much! Please leave a comment or send me a message with any recommendations or requests (or if you're interested in more parts of this story). :)

[okkalo]

ditched

karasu x reader

genre(s): angst? to comfort, exes to lovers?

warnings: reader gets canceled on before a party

this is after blue lock

part 2 is here

guess who’s prom date cancelled on them 😋😋 so yeah this will be self indulgent (can u guess who my comfort character is)

it was six in the evening when karasu came across your slumped figure sitting in front of your front door. it didn’t take a genius to notice you all dressed up, yet your face was a red mess from the crying you had done. it came as a surprise to you both, neither of you expecting to see the other at the moment.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, voice rough as you lazily wiped your tears away, shying away from his gaze. his heart stopped when he saw you, broken in front of him.

“what happened?” he asked as the breath that had caught in his throat escaped. his softened eyes scanning you while cautiously approaching you. it didn’t take long for him to plop down next to you, his hand reluctantly coming up to rub your back. and it sure didn’t take long for you to break down, once again.

your frown deepened at the overwhelm of emotion, eyes immediately filling with tears. he saw, urging you with a push of his other hand to fall onto his chest. you followed, your hands bunching up his lazy t-shirt.

here you were, sobbing into your ex’s chest, wailing about a guy who had ditched you for another date. by the end of your breakdown he had figured out the whole story, saving you from a groggy explanation.

your sniffles marked the end of your crying session. you slowly tore yourself away from your ex’s embrace, keeping your head down to avoid him seeing your puffed face. you knew full well it didn’t work when he moved your hair out of your face.

“so, what are you doing here?” you awkwardly tried to change the topic, finally looking up to meet his eyes. he could only chuckle.

“i came to drop off some of yer stuff,” he pointed the laundry basket he dropped on the ground when he rushed towards you. it was evident he didn’t care how it fell, the newly washed clothes all sprawled over the ground.

“ah,” you nodded, awkwardly looking back over at him. your eyes caught onto the wet stain on his shirt, very obviously from you. “sorry,” you muttered, giving a lazy point when he gave a questioning gaze.

“it’s fine,” he answered. it didn’t take long for a moment of silence to wash over the two of you. both wanting to talk but not knowing what to say. “y’know that guy is a douchebag.” you giggled at his attempt to clear the air.

“yeah,” you could only agree, eyes falling to your hands sitting in your lap.

“you look amazin’,” he continued, eyes never leaving you and you’re embarrassed reactions.

“thanks,” you sighed, keeping your head down, “…just wish i had somewhere to go.”

“we could go somewhere,” he quickly answered, your head jerking up in surprise. maybe it was the way he said we? or maybe it was the fire in his eyes as he said it. or simply just that your ex—of all people—suggested taking you out somewhere.

you and karasu didn’t exactly end on bad terms. your reasoning for every time someone asked about you two was always “bad timing”, which was true. a year after you two had started dating he was sent to blue lock where you had to live with not seeing him for months. it was when he was granted a two-week break that you guys cut it off, him broken but understanding.

either way, it was weird. not weird enough to fully decline though. “where would we even go?” you questioned after a moment of thinking.

“wherever ya want,” he shrugged, eyes falling to somewhere in the distance, giving you a view of his side profile.

there was another minute of silence as you thought, your stomach rumbling in the process. he turned his face back to get a view of your embarrassed face. “hungry? we can go eat,” he suggested.

“i want mcdonald’s,” you shyly admitted, a smile making its way onto his lips at the confession.

“mcdonald’s it is. ‘m payin’,” he got up, offering you his hand in aid, which you took.

“wait, but i can’t be looking nice while you look like that,” you stated as he pulled you up with a gentle tug up.

“ouch,” he gave a hurt look, to which you just rolled your eyes at.

“y’know what i mean,” you sighed, trying your best to ignore his signature smirk. “i still have that suit from my aunt’s wedding, come on.” he could only smile at the memories as he rushed back to collect the dropped laundry basket before running into your house.

five months of dating is when you forced him to attend your aunt’s wedding with you. you stated, “if i have to suffer, so do you.” he didn’t mind though, he thought it was fun to meet your family and hear your whispered gossip throughout the venue. your family welcomed him too, asking when you two were going to get married, to which you always blushed, trying to avoid his gaze.

he would never admit it but that was his favorite day. the memory soon dissipated as he walked out of the bathroom, now dressed in the suit you had kept in your closet. he didn’t miss the way your mouth opened in awe or the way your eyes sparkled. he looked the same as he did that day, maybe even better.

“am i that good lookin’?” he chuckled, cheeks heating under your gaze. you rolled your eyes and muttered a small “shut up”. you guys had the same conversation on the wedding day too.

“i bet you still can’t tie a tie,” you mumbled, walking up to finish his outfit with the blue tie he had once worn.

“i could do it back then, yer just picky,” he fought back, eyes falling onto your focused face that wasn’t far from his. he’s missed this, he realizes in the moment. the way his heart ached told him exactly that. and you did too.

with a sigh you finished the tie, smacking him lightly on the chest twice to signal you had been done. “okay, let’s go then.” neither of you spoke up about missing each other’s warmth at that moment. instead, you went to mcdonald’s as friends, acting like nothing more.

will most likely part 2 this

unedited thanks for reading

[mbohjeezart]

doin another little analysis? ohohoh i find this interesting? ramble? right now post end pre explanations. SO watchers are def the big bad- still not sure who the pc is tho. We're killing the dragon but she isnt the monster out there really. Whenever a hermit reveals to much(?) or tries to they get silenced. (note, not locked to hermits, they also silenced you). Shown by them wrapping their hands around the victims mouth. Ren has only recently been Fucking Got. Etho has as well? Sometime probably very soon pre 'game' as joel comments on them getting etho 'again'. This may be hurting him more or from how we see him currently. I dunno.

Joe seems to be possessed by the watchers maybe? Theres something fucked up going on there tho lmao. but we knew that.

CLEO though. Shes intresting. Shes surrounded by spiderwebs for one, (in arachnes place i believe?) but we see her turning to stone. And shes a gorgon so maybe turning herself into stone in some way? Shes also called the 'eternal prisoner' so shes kinda suck lmao. But not ALONE as the other hermits are able to reach and talk to her. (She mentions that the server talks)

Joel, is mentioned to be a fallen/former god in some way, but its unknown exactly how /that/ all happened. Hes now a 'vengeful' nymph. He's seen with a dagger (ever the violent, that one is) Hes waiting for etho. Etho is known to be a 'genius' maybe etho has something to do with getting back god hood? Maybe he was kicked out for being an asshole. Shit wait. Iskalls crysalization and Cleos becoming rock are probably intertwined in some way- theyre mentioned by impulse as being fucked with by the watchers. Bdubs was cut off- which seems to be one of the watchers signature moves. so thats cool ya know. Grian mentions that the watchers want nothing to do with him- he has a watchers mask in his collection though, so im assuming that hes an ex watcher in some way. Hermits are also going /missing/. Which i think is what we saw happening with Ren there in the end. I was also wrong about the hermits you have medallions having significance. TLDR: So idea on what the story is. So i think the watchers released? are working with? The dragon to cause havoc on the hermits in some way. Hurting and attacking the people. For some reason the pc is called upon to stop the dragon. Alas the watchers are actively interfering to stop the pc from killing the dragon. (And maybe thus freeing the hermits?) I dont know why though. Hermits have some fucked shit going on. Cleo and Iskall have the same effect. Ren and Etho are in the same situation. Hypno wants to kill

Im not exactly 100% sure how much I can and cannot confirm (at least to not spoil future projects and such) but I will say that you're pretty close! Not exactly there yet, but close on a lot of things :)

There's a few thoughts that you've already got there, but if you connect them together... well. You might get further.

[stardustizuku]

Part 1: The Love Square. Why it worked, and why it failed.

People who aren’t as interested in Magical Girls as I am, specifically Magical Girl Animes with Romance, may not understand why the Love Square was such a big deal. Why it was the core; the life of the series.

Okay, so how many times have you seen a love triangle unfold? Quite many, I must guess. Some really good, and some, uhm, not so much.

In Magical Girl Animes they’re common – and the most popular ones have one very particular dynamic. Let’s run down it, shall we?

Our main character falls in love with another man, someone unreachable, unattainable. It’s someone she genuinely looks up to, and is most likely popular already.

I call this character “The Prince”

In Princess Tutu, it’s Mytho. In Shugo Chara it’s Tadase. In Tokyo Mew Mew it’s Aoyama. Sailor Moon has Motoki Furuhata in Season 1, and Mamoru in Stars.

He is the type of guy you want to fall in love with. Nice, kind, good-natured, a good leader, pretty and everything.

There’s one issue, though. The person who our Main Character’s crush likes is not her, but her alter ego. Mytho is in love with Tutu, not Ahiru, Tadase is in love with Amulet Heart not Amu. The one she becomes thanks to super natural magic.

Then, there’s the opposite. I like to call them the “Rebel” character.

You know who I’m talking about. The Ikuto, the Kishu, the Fakir or even Seiya of the story. They serve to be a contrast to the “Prince”. They’re often times, the only one who gets to see through the MC’s disguise and comes to understand her. “Rebel” characters are rarely in love with alter ego, but instead feel attraction to the MC or the “real one”

These are all fan favourites characters that fall under the “Bad Boy” trope. And for good reason.

Bad boy characters are popular with little girls, teen girls, women or even AFAB people in general since they call out something in our society. There’s very real pressure put forth by either parents or society to adhere to certain gender roles, and what they mean.

In other words, you’re “supposed” to be a good girl.

You have to get good grades, you have to smile all the time, you have to be polite, and you have to play nice. A bad boy character in fiction allows the viewer (in this case and for simplicity) girls to push back or be rebellious in a very safe way.

You don’t have to be good, you’re just following the steps of a bad guy with a heart of gold. He will help you break out of your shell, and be more confident. You get to feel like you’re trying to be the good girl society tells you to be, while finally exploring these darker aspects of your personality.

In YA and more mature books, this can involve anything from trying alcohol, having sex, or allowing oneself to be angry (exploring the “bad” or “not good” emotions AFAB people are always told they shouldn’t have).

But in audiences more aimed towards children, like those in Magical Girl animes, shoujos or tween cartoons, they exist in a more subdued way – although still tapping into this idea of rebellion against the status quo.

That’s why these characters are fan favourites.  

So, to summarize. You have the MC in love with a “Prince” who in turn is in love with the Perfect Girl version of the MC. And a “Rebel” who is in love with the Real Version of the MC, flaws and all.

This particular dynamic is used as a thesis of sorts in any good story. Only by understanding both the real and idolized version of the MC can a man can “win” the love of our protagonist. And only by our MC knowing who she is, what her alter ego means, or how she relates to these dichotomies, can she understand herself.

And really, depending on how each show tackles its themes, it can have different answers. Tokyo Mew Mew offers the idea that the Prince is the correct option, while Princess Tutu says it’s not. Then there’s those with open endings such a Shugo Chara. Again, they use the dynamic, the thesis of their characters, to come to a conclusion that neatly ties to the theme.

Princess Tutu, for example, ties the ideal version of Mytho with the tragedy of a fairytale. Ahiru has to let go to be able to reach a conclusion. In Tokyo Mew Mew Ichigo sees her flaws (the cats ears) as something someone as perfect as Aoyama could never love – yet he shows he isn’t perfect and that he loves her with or without the perceived flaws she has.

That said,

It’s exactly why I loved Miraculous Ladybug when it first aired. It managed to boil down this interesting dynamic into the Love Square. The perfect and the real, the idolized and the true.

Ladybug represents the perfect version of Marinette. Adrien represents the perfect version, while the real one is Chat Noir. Chat was both the “Bad Boy” and the “Prince” all in one. Both Marinette and Adrien were in love with the “Perfect” or Idolized version of each other.

This was something never before seen. It would make for amazing content, right? Explore why we prefer an idolized version of someone, realize that true love means caring even when you’re not perfect. What our perceived “flaws” meant to others, and if they were truly flaws – or if our environment was the one teaching us they were. The possibilities and themes were limitless. We could have had something great-

No.

Sorry, we. We didn’t get that.

What we got were padded episodes, new love interest that refused to deal with this complexity, and a stagnant rship that refuses to explore any of the flaws of their characters - why they’re not perfect, or even a reason why they stay in love

This is why the Love Square fails. This, is the core of why and how it works. People can expand upon this in million different ways, but you inevitably come back to this.

The real and the idolized. The want vs the duty. The expectations and the responsibilities.

Instead of having an episode where Marinette realizes that Adrien isn’t perfect, that he isn’t a model 24/7 or that he has flaws, secrets and fear just like anyone else, we got Kagami.

Instead of Chat realizing that Ladybug isn’t perfect, that she isn’t always composed, that it’s just a persona put forth to feel more in control of a situation, we got Luka.

Both characters that I love, but they bring very little to the themes the Love Square was introducing, to begin with!

More focus should have been put in how these two bounce off each other.

How much better would the story had been if we got to see Marinette and Chat have a conversation? The two very flawed, very real, very confusing version fo these characters, just trying to understand each other.

And by the way, this is exactly why MariChat is the most popular dynamic.

Marinette acts like a girl. Scared, confused, and lonely. She isn’t a hero, she isn’t her perfect version. She is just Marinette. While she can put the mask on, at the end of the day, it’s still just a mask. And Chat? Well, we get to see him. Not the model, not the paper cut out, but a silly kid who wants to break free from a life of imprisonment by the parent who’s supposed to love him.

We get to see something real.

But, unfortunately we do not get that.

Their relationship stays static. The reason for this is a bit obvious.

The writers, to my opinion have come to this bizarre conclusion:

Developing this dynamic would mean changing dynamics, ending the status quo morphing the story into something new. And they assume a “new” means an “end”.

They’re thinking that the endgame is Adrien and Marinette realizing their identities, so they don’t wanna develop it for fear of bringing an ending “too close”.

Say you have 7 seasons prepared, you can't have them find out their identities in season 5 because their reveal should be in season 7. It should be the last couple of episodes even. After that, they'll date and it's over. So better drag this on for seasons on end.

This just proves to me: flawed writing skills and lack of direction.

WHICH wouldn’t surprise me seeing how Chloe ended up.

It is plain bad writing. Changing stuff doesn’t necessarily mean an endgame is near. It just means things are changing.

I’ll be mean to this series and compare it to the Magnus Opus of Magical Girls: Sailor Moon

Sailor Moon got together with Tuxedo mask in the first season, yet the writers were able to up the steaks of their relationship through its 5-season run: Through memory loss, a long distance romance, anxieties of hurting one another, or simply…developing their relationship. People change. And so does how they interact with other people.

These created amazing episodes that highlighted how much Usagi and Mamoru loved and cared for each other. It wasn’t just chance, it wasn’t just fate. This took work, it took time, and it took trust. This wasn’t something so easily lost. That’s why SailorMoonStars hits the hardest.

In the very last season, Usagi is in a long distance rship with Mamoru. And it breaks her. We see that she misses him, dealing with the turmoil of him not answering her messages. She’s devastated, seeking comfort in other people, but unable to forget him. Not even as Seiya begs her to take him instead of Mamoru, can she bring herself to give him up– because they’ve been together for a long, long time. And we’ve seen that.

We see her reminiscent. We see her break down and cry because he hasn’t called her. We see her thinking of him when she’s with Seiya. We see her be in love with him and we see how much it affected her that he’s ignoring her.

And by the last few episodes, we get a payoff. We find out Mamoru is dead, and that he died confident that Usagi would be strong enough to protect the Earth in his stead. That he believed in her, and he thought of her until the moment he died - uttering her name as the last thing he could do.

That’s why when Sailor Moon defeats Sailor Galaxia, the woman who killed the man she loved, through purification and not violence – it all feels right.

It’s a very simple but powerful story, packaged in 45 episodes. With enough room to breathe, digest it, but not drawn out enough for it to be annoying.

All this, when the relationship was already established. We could have had something like this in Miraculous Ladybug, if the writers WERENT drawing out the reveal and get together until the very last second!

ChatBlanc could have been an AMAZING multi-episode mini-arc.

No time-travel thing. They find their identities, they date for a few episodes, something goes horribly wrong, and Marinette has to find a way to fix the mistakes she's made. Much like Sailor Moon R.

Maybe by the end of it, she fixes it but sacrifices most of her memories. The only thing she recalls is that she knew Chat's identity, Paris almost got destroyed, and that leads to her putting distance between them.

Or maybe one day she wakes up with the memories of Chat Blanc and spends and entire season trying to know what happened, and when she does, she's horrified.

Idk, million amazing things could have been done with this episode to further develop these two's relationship. Complex, interesting, beautiful things.

But no. Because, apparently, thinking of love post-reveal is too much. Instead, we watch them run and run in circles. Chat Blanc was a single episode, and half of it was time travel shenanigans.

And all of this, just because the writers don’t actually know what they want to do with the love square. So they add new rivals, new teams, new accessories, side plots - all to avoid touching the actual core of what made the series great.

It strongly reminds me of Star vs. in that scenario the creators also weren’t sure where to take the show.

It wasn’t until season 2 where they started the subplot of Star realizing Mewni colonized Monsters that it started having a sense of self. And it showed in the romantic subplot, which was all over the place. They didn’t know what they wanted, so the romance in that show was a mess. Lack of direction and intention, aside from the knowledge that Star and Marco were the end game

I personally don’t hate Star vs. I don’t like how it handled romance but I will give it much leeway because the actual plot of Intergenerational conflict and coming to terms with the harm your ancestors have done to others - is quite compelling and not something I see tackled often.

But Miraculous does not get that. Its episodic plot is simple and refuses to get into the murky waters of its own premise.

The only thing it had going was The Love Square. Because I assure you, very few people give a crap about the Miraculous being stolen.

So, their lack of willingness was the first thing to ruin the Love Square. Fine.

But it’s not the nail on the coffin. The real reason why this suffered, was something that happened waaaay before all this.

Because one thing that the show refused to explore up until late into season 3 and start of season 4 was the specific parts of the “Ladybug” character. What I mean is, what “ideal self” she is as “Ladybug”. And how her existence affects Marinette. This is the fundamental flaw that issss...

PREV << MASTERLIST >> NEXT

[shunin-gumis]

Temptation Towards Apoptosis - Track 01

L4mps 1st Feature Event

This chapter is translated by Jelly!

Once upon a time, in a village far far away, a lovely girl with skin as white as the first snow fell in love. The creature that caught her eye was a magnificent steed with lustrous muscles and a manly mane that blew gracefully in the wind. However, her father was against their love. One day, whilst her father was out searching for a better suitor, the two secretly eloped. Upon hearing the news, her father, in a blind fit of rage, killed the horse and hung its corpse onto a tree. The sight of his daughter weeping at the loss of her lover as she clinged onto it only caused the father’s anger to slowly grow further until eventually, he axed off its head in fury. Then, as if to run away together, the horse’s head flew off with the girl in tow and the two were never seen again. And, they lived happily ever after.

…But did they really live happily ever after?

*applause*

*popping sounds*

Location: Aomori - Miroku Yokocho

Chief: Um, so did you do something after that, Nagi-kun?

Nagi: Yeah. I felt bad for coming to Aomori to study while only knowing the bare minimum like how Aomori’s famous for their apples and the Nebuta Festival*, so I thought I should search up a bunch of stuff about it before we came which was why I was on my phone looking things up during break time.

Nagi: But for some reason, I suddenly had no service and when people don’t have any service they usually wave their phones around, and so I thought okay, then I’ll wave my phone around, and so I did, but then my phone slipped out of my hand and next thing I knew, the store’s window…

Daniel: Ooh, looks like he's plastered already.

Ryui: So in the end, you didn’t search shit about Aomori.

Chief: It’s true they are famous for their apples and the Nebuta Festival, though!

Toi: Yeah. I was surprised there was a vending machine for only apple juice at the station!

Chief: The Nebuta Festival only occurs during the summer, but since it’s currently winter, tomorrow we’ll be attending the Lake Towada Winter Story Festival* instead. I hope it doesn’t snow.

Netaro: Winteeeer~, I see~ the days are shorter during the winteeeer~ so humans become all weak and flimsy.

Toi: Weak? In what way?

Netaro: For humans to be strong, they need to intake tryptophan which is a key amino acid found in seryotonwin!

Ryui: Toi, there’s no point in listening to his bullshit.

Nagi: Then what about my story?

Yodaka: Speaking of which, I had a dream earlier.

Yodaka: Within my dream, Shamrock Holmes* said, “The culprit must’ed be among these cuts of tuna.”

Chief: You’re exactly right! I can’t wait to try some Aomori shamorock jidori and tuna caught from the Tsugaru straits.

Daniel: Hey, they have it on the menu. Master, can we get a jidori and tuna?

Yodaka: The culprit, enraged, shouted, “I’ma make-a squid cutlets outta ya fuckers.”

Daniel: We’ll take one ‘o those too.

Toi: Hehehe. Yodaka-san became the menu.

Toi: (This is fun…)

*popping sounds*

Chief: (…Hm? I think I heard something…?)

Chief: Toi-kun, what’s that in your hand…?

Toi: Oh… Sorry. I accidentally took it out…

Toi: It’s called a never-ending popper!

Toi: I got addicted to popping the leftover bubble wrap Ani-sama had for packaging…

Chief: I get that. It feels good to pop the bubbles, but I didn’t know there was a toy like this.

Chief: (Did Ryui-kun bring something fragile with him? Nagi-kun also brought flowers and a flower vase with him this time around… Is everyone on the Night Team used to travelling heavy…?)

Toi: Chief, would you like to try it?

Chief: Sure, I’ll try popping one.

Toi: You can pop two, three, as many as you would like!

*popping sounds*

Chief: Ahh… This is so relaxing…

Chief: The food and drinks were also delicious. I’m so glad we decided to come to Aomori…

~~~(flashback)

Chief: Now then, it’s time to plan our fourth feature tour!

Kafka: What did you all think about the one the Noon Team held last time?

Ryui: The one Kiro hosted? Wasn’t it pretty good?

Toi: Yup! Kiro-chan was soo cool…!

Netaro: The final plop was amazing! Plop!

Yodaka: They showed us a dazzling chapter of their youth.

Nagi: I’ve only ever graduated from middle school, so it was exciting to go into a high school. It brought back nonexistent memories of me sneaking into school to ride my bike around the field.

Daniel: So, we’re picking from the Night Team this time, right President?

Kafka: Yup. Let’s get right into it… Would anyone like to volunteer to be the main host?

L4mps: …

Chief: H-Huh…?

Kafka: Oh? When did you all become so timid?

Daniel: It’s better to just get these things done and over with.

Nagi: (Mhm, but I don’t think it’s my place to volunteer… None of the other leaders have been a host yet.)

Yodaka: (If someone wants to do it, I shouldn’t rob them of the chance.)

Netaro: (Sounds like a pain~)

Ryui: (…The host gets to decide on the study location, right?)

Ryui: (But…)

Toi: …

Nagi: Then Buchi-san and the chief can be the hosts this time.

Chief & Daniel: What!? Why?

Toi: …Me.

Ryui: !

Netaro: What an enthusiastic hand~!

Chief: Are you volunteering yourself, Toi-kun?

Toi: Yes. If that’s alright.

Toi: Um, the main host gets to decide on the study location, right?

Kafka: Yup. Is there somewhere you want to go?

Toi: I… I want to go to Aomori.

Ryui: …! Toi, you—

~~~~~~(flashback)

Ryui: …Toi, I went to Hakodate to look for a way to exorcise Astaroth from your body. I was looking for the Shiramitsu family’s origins in Aomori…

Ryui: I ended up getting stuck at Hakodate instead.

Toi: The spiritual powers there are strong, so I guess someone with a spiritual constitution like Ani-sama’s is bound to be strongly affected.

Ryui: In the end, I wasn’t able to find anything in my current state. Pathetic, really, considering I went as far as to leave you for it too.

Ryui: But don't worry, this is the one thing I'll never give up on. No matter what, I’ll drag that shitty demon outta your body and fuck it up.

Ryui: Then, you can finally be free from this damn house.

~~~~~~(end flashback)

Yodaka: If Toi is the main host, then…

Toi: Ani-sama, do you want to do it together?

Ryui: Yeah, of course.

Toi: I love you, Ani-sama!

Ryui: I love you too, Toi.

Toi: In that case I looooooove you even more!

Ryui: Then I lovelovelovelovelovelovelovelove…

Daniel: Okay okay, we get it.

Nagi: Great, then it’s decided. A round of applause.

*applause*

Kafka: So the main host will be Toi and the sub-host will be Ryui. I’m looking forward to your tour.

Ryui: I’ll make this 1800% successful for Toi.

Ryui: And, this time…

Toi: …

Toi: (Ani-sama probably wants to find a way to separate me from A-chama.)

Toi: (A-chama might be a precious friend to me, but Ani-sama will always be more important.)

Chief: If we’ve decided on Aomori then the next step is to research! Daniel-san, do you mind lending me some of your time after?

Daniel: Ahh, my bad I have a date with the smoke room, so…

Netaro: I’m going puff puff with Daa too~.

Yodaka: In that case, may I be the one to accompany you, Chief? I’d like to know about some nice bars in the area.

Toi: (…I want to know too.)

Toi: (I want to find out if there’s a way for me to remain a good boy…)

Notes:

The story at the start of the chapter is the myth of a tutelary deity for the Tohoku region known as "Oshira-sama." Oshira-sama is considered the deity of silkworms, horses, and agriculture.

Miroku Yokocho is the food stall village located in the city of Hachinohe that serves the local cuisine of Aomori.

Aomori apples are also known as "the world's best apples" with the intensive and extensive care put into growing them. They are said to be very delicious. For more information: https://aomori-tourism.com/en/feature/detail_70.html

Nebuta Festival is one of the most famous summer festivals of Japan. The main attraction of this festival is the large colorful floats that parade through the streets of Aomori. For more information: https://www.nebuta.jp/foreign/english.html

The Winter Story Festival is an annual winter snow sculpture festival held in Lake Towada, Aomori. For more information: https://www.japan.travel/en/sports/snow/snow-travel/lake-towada-winter-story-festival/

Shamrock Holmes is both a play on Sherlock Holmes and a famous izakaya spot/restaurant in Aomori also called Shamrock Holmes. Yodaka mixes the two things together making a mystery story based on food.

The Shamrock chicken (jidori), or the Emperor's chicken, is a high quality breed of chicken in Aomori. For more info: https://visithachinohe.com/en/shopping/syamorock/

Tsugaru strait refers to a strait between honshu (the main island of the Japanese archipelago) and Hokkaido.

Event Masterpost

Next track

[etirabys]

end of year fiction writing retro

An uneven year. A good half of my wordcount energy went into a single project, which I had to shelve in November for, mildly, mental health reasons – I got stuck in a major way and was not being normal about it.

The dated files in the bottom half are all 'morning pages'. Writing 1000 words about anything first thing in the morning was the keystone recommendation in Dorothea Brande's Becoming a Writer. I did it most of January before concluding that, if this is what it takes to become a writer, I don't want to become a writer. (All habits that force me to do something on a schedule seem to culminate in this realization eventually.)

After I stopped forcing myself to do morning pages, my brain showed zero interest in writing before casually emitting two complete shorts around the summer. One was fit to post (the green redacted link); the other – satia.md – resisted deep edits. If I posted it with only shallow edits, I would simply take it down again within a year due to my inner directives.txt. I'm okay with leaving it be; sometimes I shake things out of years-long storage and make major revisions. I'll consider it a gift to my future self rather than a failure.

In September I read a popular YA novel I thought was kinda bad, and that unlocked 50K of words in Sep-Nov. Despite being bad it was also compelling (which accounts for its popularity), a combination that usually reenchants writing for me. After reading that novel I decided to outline the dumbest, most self indulgent novel I could (SCHLOCK.md), which is a magic school harem story with lots of clan massacres and machinations. After generating a loose plot outline, I discovered it was a worse outline than the one I'd generated years ago for an equally self indulgent shelved project (the blue redacted titles), and I wanted to return to that instead.

I wrote ~50K words, got stuck, and shelved it again. Sadly, I'm not sure I added much for my future self to build on. I made a few correct moves in fleshing out the plot+setting, but they're outnumbered by new moves that are... just walking along an isohypse? Moves that don't make the work better or worse, just different, in a way I'm not enthusiastic about. They don't satisfactorily solve the problems they were meant to solve. I'm aware I probably haven't specified the problems correctly if it's so hard to solve them. (Random quote that popped in my mind: "In subjects such as number theory and combinatorics, some questions are simple to state but extremely hard to answer. Basic category theory is not like that. To understand the question is very nearly to know the answer.")

The only good thing I have to say about this is: if I'm not good at tackling fiction writing in a disciplined way, I'm not good at avoiding it, either. The amount of work I put into writing seems to have a low ceiling (that I run into painfully when I try to Apply Discipline and Consistency) but also a decently high floor.

Highlighted projects:

endosymbiosis.md – complete, one of those 'popped out of me with little effort' stories.

19th century geologist with mommy issues: stuck on setting. I want an irascible middle aged guy, neurotic and unbearable along the lines of Schopenhauer or Wittgenstein, falling for a slightly younger middle aged colleague because her interactions with her nieces and nephews crack him open psychologically. I want them out in the middle of nowhere for a month+ in a four person team, but my low-effort low-research explanations for what they're doing and what question their research is meant to solve don't satisfy me. I hope I'll figure it out years from now when I'm reading a geology/field work/whatever book and go "ah, that's interesting enough for me to use!"

Strange Justice: a Minotaur retelling, maybe with gettier case sibling incest. Stuck for thematic reasons; I want two competing moral views about animal vs human standing in there (this all started because the title is a plausible etymology for one of the Minotaur's canon sisters, Xenodice) but I don't have a dyad I like.

dungeon meshi school semiAU – takes place in the DM universe, but in a different dungeon where most of the main characters need to get certified for basic magic by the local authorities before they can enter. I wanted to see canon Laios in a school setting –unpopular, separated from his real competencies by bureaucratic hoops. Kabru, on the other hand, is thriving. Stuck on this one because I found I didn't care about the romance, which probably means perma-stuck.

childbirth horror.md is me working through childbirth anxieties: an advanced human civilization where pregnancy is longer, skulls are larger, all children are born through (painless, nanotech) C-section, and human pelvises haven't been subject to the selection of surviving childbirth in hundreds of thousands of years. Then a distant civil war in some planet that turns out to supply the only gadget for some factory that pumps out the diagnosis & repair tooling for the – yadda yadda. Shelved because I realized I'm a terrible horror writer. I looked at my clumsy efforts to build suspense and went, "maaaaybe after I spend 5-10 hours analyzing good horror shorts."

[bobbydagen24]

comparing Brother Bear with TBT since their Both movies about Brotherhood and also Brother Bear just Randomly popped into my head again today.

I've loved Brother Bear for years I think its a very underrated Disney movie with nice songs cute characters and a cute story.

and I randomly started thinking about it earlier and then started comparing it to TBT since their both strongly focused on Brotherhood.

and I realised that for some reason Brother Bear doesn't bother me as much as TBT does even tho it technically has many of the same faults.

it Rushes over the interesting character Drama and it Rushes a conclusion to said Drama between the Brothers at the end.

like the scene in the main film of Kenai confessing to Koda is still fairly sad but its massively undercut by having the song play over it.

the deleted version of that scene where the song doesn't play and we get to hear the full version of Kenai's confession and Koda's reaction is available on youtube and its way more heart-breaking imo.

which I guess is why they didn't go with that version since it would have maybe been a bit too much for young kids.

but the movie also employs the gimmick of having the brothers come back together in the end to fight off a life threatening enemy and all is seemingly forgiven between them straight away afterwards.

I guess one reason why BB doesn't bother me as much as TBT is that Kenai actually grows throughout the film despite wronging Koda in a massive way.

and Koda forgiving him too quickly in the ending is not as bothersome because we didn't see Kenai mistreat him the entire film up until the point he found out.

and he didn't then proceed to hurt him again in arguably just as bad a way as he did before like Bro zone did.

instead Kenai did grow in the film and he and Koda already had a healthy relationship prior to the reveal and later confession.

plus what they had throughout the film was genuine sibling banter it wasn't one sided like Bro zone's interactions were with Branch where it was basically just them treating him like a kid and not taking his Valid feelings seriously.

and when Kenai confesses to Koda he's a lot more openly remorseful and tries to go after him to make things right Bro zone just get a brief 4 second shot of them feeling bad and then the movie moves on.

not to mention the climax of BB involves Kenai making a sacrifice for Koda first off he puts his own life in danger in order to save him from his Brother Denahi. and at the very end he makes a big sacrifice ( staying as a Bear so he can stay with him even tho it means leaving behind his human life and not being able to openly communicate with his family )

which somewhat works as an act of love and redemption whereas the climax of TBT involves Bro zone being forced to work together in order to save their own lives as well as the life of the Bro who none of them wronged all that much tbh.

it doesn't really work as a first step towards them redeeming themselves and fixing their family because its kinda selfish and it didn't involve them really making any sort of personal sacrifice or even that much effort.

ya know its funny I just thought I'd make this post as a Random little thought since that's all this was I didn't actually expect to talk in depth and compare the movies stories this much lol.

I just started typing and got carried away 😂😂😂😂😂😂

anyway in short I love Brother Bear its a very adorable film and while its far from perfect in how it handles its story its flaws don't stop me from enjoying it.

since it still handled the more important parts of the story well enough.

unlike with Trolls 3 best thing I can say about it is that the movie version of "" Better Place "" is a legit great little song and frankly its too good for this film.

the story didn't earn such an emotional music piece in my opinion.

[gogobluedynamite]

Ya know...I didn't believe that Baron Mildenhall's story for his route was in any way connected to Kinger...that is until I came up with the Original Party and what may have transpired in those first few years in the Circus.

I now believe that the Baron's story is inspired by what happened to Kinger and the Original Party.

So, with my headcanon of the Original Party in mind, let's have a look at Baron Mildenhall's recordings up until his twist reveal as the true villain of the Super Scary Route.

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

My name is Baron Theodore Mildenhall. Hunting has been a hobby of mine for as long as I can remember, although one could say it eventually became more of an obsession. The creature you see before you is one I've been pursuing for years. Not quite a man… but not quite an animal. Something... unholy. Something evil. I took it upon myself to spend every waking moment doing all I could to protect my family from the creature, hoping that when I'd eventually killed it, I would be freed from this awful feeling. This inescapable dread. I was wrong.

Considering that Kinger does have firearm experience, Baron being a hunter could be a reference to that. It could also be that Kinger was a 'hunter' of sorts and the 'creature' he was hunting was the exit out of the Circus by way of his computer science knowledge. The 'family' in this case would be the Original Party, whom Kinger probably did see as family (other than his wife for obvious reasons). His hunt for the exit does become an obsession.

Tuesday, December 4th. Although I had shot the creature multiple times in its vitals and severed its head to keep as a prize on my wall... my troubles were just beginning. I took my eyes off the body for what felt like only a minute, and when I looked back, the body was gone. The creature was not dead, and it would be back to reclaim what I'd taken from it. If anyone is listening to this, all I ask of you is one thing: Do not let the head out of your sight. You have been warned.

This one was tricky to pin point for the headcanons, but I think I might of come up with something.

The first of the Original Party to Abstract has already happened and while Kinger feels more pressure to finding the exit, he also does everything in his power to keep an on the others, feeling paranoid that if he no longer has them in his sight, then something bad would happen.

This might have been a stretch, but it was the best I could come up with.

Things have gotten far worse than I could ever have imagined. My paranoia had driven me to the point where I was no longer the protector my wife and theoretical children needed. Jumping at every shadow, every noise. I ended up shooting the love of my life, mistaking her for the creature. It's ironic, isn't it? In my attempts to protect her, I ended up becoming the monster myself. Now I wait down in my cellar, no longer having anything to protect but my own soul. If nothing else... I will slay the beast that took everything from me.

I've actually used a part of this recording for a post before, which was the origin of this whole Original Party idea, and I'll use it again here.

At this point, everyone (the wife and 'theoretical children') sans Kinger has Abstracted and he feels a huge amount of guilt over it, especially since he believes that he made Queenie feel not wanted and loved, because of his obsession to finding the exit.

I...honestly had this thought that Queenie had not minded being stuck in the Circus for all eternity so as long as she had Kinger by her side. When he stubbornly refuses to stop hunting for the exit (for Queenie's sake, mind you, but still...), Queenie...gives up and Abstracts.

The 'cellar' in this context is Kinger's mind when he finally breaks.

Annnd...that's it.

What do you guys think?

[treacheryinblue]

Chapter 3/?

× Elysium (noun) : a place or condition of ideal happiness. type of: fictitious place, imaginary place, mythical place.

Word Count: 9.3k

Masterlist

A Noah Sebastian x OC Series

× Summary: Noah and his new found (sort of) friend, Persephone, battle the trivial ins and outs of being teenagers in a world that doesn't accept you. They survive together all the way into adulthood - with bouts of loneliness included - where the world is still a fickle bitch.

× Warnings!: language, violence, slowburn, friends to lovers to enemies back to friends, rinse and repeat (not even in that order), eventual smut, sexual themes, etc. Each chapter will have its own set of separate warnings.

× Author Notes: ( 1 ) And there I go again with the too much rambling and making chapters entirely too long. What's the preference when it comes to things like this? ( 2 ) Don't forget that there will be no smut or sexual descriptions while Persephone is still a minor aka anytime before 2016. ( 3 ) Another time jump will be coming up within the next chapter. As I stated before, I'm not trying to dwell too long in the past for them, but my brain always has a way of dragging things out. This may also be the last chapter of Seph as a minor... ◔‿◔

× Chapter Warnings!: language, brief sexual themes

SUMMER OF 2014

FRIDAY AUGUST 1st

NOAH

“Did you guys hear about Persephone?” 

Everyone stared at the dark haired girl - now known as Alexa - after she dropped down into the booth next to Folio, waiting for her to continue. 

“Ya know, after her party last weekend?” 

Christ, if this girl didn't just spit it out. Noah didn't want to hear about Seph, no, but he for some reason felt anxious about whatever was about to be revealed. It already wasn't sitting right with him. 

“Well, her parents apparently came home early because someone cut their security cameras back on to the live setting, and they saw all of it. The people, the alcohol, the huge mess she hadn't been able to get cleaned up yet. It was bad.” 

Alexa was nodding as she spoke, though she was now taking a long pause. They could sense she had more to say, so Noah made a face for her to continue, which she huffed and did. Folio’s new girl was cool and all, but damn did she have a flare for the dramatics. She also had this weird power of knowing everything about everyone. It was a little scary.

“A little birdy told me that Seph then had a masssivveee breakdown. I'm talking a full on freak out. She trashed the place even more, broke some priceless vases her mom had, got blood everywhere because she accidentally cut herself on the glass or some shit. Yeah, it was insane. Something legit right out of a movie.” 

Noah was fighting back the urge to spew his lunch everywhere. His stomach was churning, his insides turning every which way, and there was no end in sight for it. He was avoiding everyone's gaze, instead choosing to stare at a blank spot on the table while processing what Alexa was saying. 

“Who did you hear that from?” Nick spoke up, obviously suspicious of the story. He was the only one who really knew what happened between him, Seph, and Maisie that night, so of course he was going to dig deeper. 

“I shouldn't even be telling anyone this, but my brother was a paramedic at the scene. He said he thinks it was all stress induced, but some people are saying she was on drugs.” 

“No, she didn't do drugs.” Noah shook his head, refusing to believe that rumor. It was clear there was a lot that Seph needed to work on, but he wasn't going to let her name be dragged through the mud over something he knew wasn't true. 

“Drugs, no drugs. Doesn't matter. Her parents sent her away to some facility up state but they're telling people she's spending her senior year studying abroad in Sweden or somewhere posh sounding like that.” 

“That's fucking wild,” Folio sighed while shoving a couple of fries into his mouth. “Pretty bummed I only got to go to one of her parties.”

“Shut up, Folio,” Noah heavily exhaled, his thumb and pointer finger rubbing and digging at his eyes. 

There was a part of him that didn't believe it, or rather didn't want to believe it. But if Alexa's brother was there, then he had to admit that was a pretty reliable source. And after what he saw that night, it was all pretty plausible. 

Fucking hell. 

SPRING TO SUMMER 2015

PERSEPHONE 

Fingertips lightly traced the tiny delicate scars that now scattered across the top and bottom of her hands. There was a point months ago when she was worried about how they would heal, nervous as to whether or not they'd always look red and angry. Thankfully that wasn't the case, for they were small and white, barely noticeable unless you were close enough or already knew they were there. The soles of her feet carried identical scars, all because of the shards of glass she had stupidly walked over. 

“We've still never really talked about why you thought you couldn't seek help or guidance, Persephone.” 

Although she heard the older woman’s question, her eyes remained down on her hands. The same scars she had stared at for days upon days were way more interesting than whatever bullshit she was going to try prying from her today. Only sometimes did she give the woman a bit of information, just to tide her over so she could report to her parents that she was making ‘great progress’. 

“You really want to know?” 

“Well, yes, of course.” 

Slowly nodding, Seph took in a deep breath before dropping her hands into her lap and finally lifting her gaze to the older woman. She held her pen at the ready, fully prepped to scribe down anything of importance she may divulge. 

“I figured there was no point in ever telling people about what was happening inside of me. It was best kept inside, like everything else.” 

“Why did you feel that way?”

Seph shrugged, arms crossing over her chest in a defensive manner. Yep, the woman was right on it with that damned pen too. Of course she was going to take note of her stance. 

“Because people don't want to hear about the difficulties of life coming from someone like me.” 

“Someone like you…what does that mean?”

“You know what it means. You're in my father's pocket, after all.” 

Everyone at this ridiculously irritating place was. The only employee she had become slightly friendly with was a second shift nurse who let her use his phone, but of course for a price. Gross, not like that. He wanted money, just as everyone did. $100 for fifteen minutes. Can you believe that? 

The woman eyed her from across the room. She was waiting for her to continue because obviously her smart ass remark wasn't a sufficient answer. 

“Someone who has the means to do anything and everything. Never a need for anything. Someone who has all of their material wants satisfied. That kind of person.” 

Seph twisted her lips and looked out the wall of windows within the office. God, she couldn't wait to be out of this place. 

“People tend to forget that material items aren't everything, though. At the end of the day, they don't fucking mean anything. I can't talk to a purse. I can't voice my frustrations to a goddamn overpriced car.” 

This made her laugh, the sound of it echoing through the otherwise quiet office. Her therapist didn't seem to find it as funny, but that was okay. She wasn't trying to spit jokes at her anyway. It was all the truth. 

“You don't believe your parents could see that you were struggling? What about your friends?”

Ah, of course the woman was going to try to get all the answers she had been seeking from the beginning. A part of her was starting to think that she didn't really care about how Seph was, she just wanted to know all the gritty and secret details of a man’s family who basically owned her. 

“I didn't have friends, not really. Well…I had one, but he was a new friend. He wasn't ready to learn all of my inner workings.” 

Persephone could tell the woman wanted to dive into this ‘he’, but she wasn't going to give her the opportunity. Noah was not going to become a pawn in her sessions that could be used against her. 

“And my parents were never around, so no, they didn't see a damn thing. It took it literally blowing up in their faces for them to notice.” 

That was enough talking for today. Seph was mentally tired of this gymnastics routine she was forced to partake in multiple times a week, and now all she wanted to do was get the hell out of there. Both the office and the facility as a whole. Though mainly the former right then because it was nearing the time for her to be out a hundred bucks. 

Once she was given the ‘okay’ to call it a day, she couldn't have scurried out fast enough. And like perfect clockwork, Ben was waiting outside of her room, ready to collect. They didn't say anything to each other as he slyly slipped his phone to her, then carried on down the hall until he would circle back fifteen minutes later. 

Seph hid within her bathroom, her body uncomfortably seated within the empty bathtub with the curtain drawn. She didn't know why this is where she felt safest making calls, but it's the one and only place she had done it since her first month there. 

One ring. 

Two rings. 

Three rings.

On the fourth, the call connected and she was able to breathe a sigh of relief. 

“Pom,” he answered without missing a beat, his smile easily heard in his tone. 

“Hey, peach,” she softly spoke, immediately feeling more like herself as soon as she was in friendly company. 

“Did you make all the doctors happy today?” 

Seph snorted out a laugh, rolling her eyes to herself. “Well, I didn't threaten any of them, if that's what you mean.”

“Ah, so progress! That warms my heart.” 

“I think they're going to let me come home soon. Therapist number two was really digging in. But how's things there?”

“If you want to ask about him, then you can.” 

The smile she wore slowly began to fade, her eyes fixated on a random spot of her sweatpants that she had started picking at. 

“No…I mean…is he okay? I'm not going to come home to him having lost a leg or something, right?” 

Nick laughed, and she just knew he was shaking his head. “I can say with absolute certainty that all of his limbs are still intact. A one legged front man would be pretty badass though, yeah?” 

As much as Seph wanted to get lost in thoughts of Noah, she couldn't bring herself to do so right then. She had to save that for those particularly hard moments while she was locked away. 

“Did you tell her?” 

A female voice in the background broke through, followed by a hushed response from Nick that she couldn't make out. There was some shuffling on the other side, then he was heavily sighing before speaking up again. 

“Shit, Seph, I hate to do this…but I don't want you to come home and be blindsided.” 

“You're really freaking me out right now.” 

“Alexa heard that your dad…yeah! I'm getting to it!” Again Nick huffed, and this whole thing being drawn out was literally going to cause her heart to beat out of her chest. 

“She heard that your dad is trying to press charges against Maisie…for the video of you and Noah. Some shit about child pornography, I don't know. Apparently she sent it to her brother, so that's not only possessing, but also distributing.” 

“What the actual fuck, Nick?!” Seph quickly covered her mouth with her hand to muffle her outburst, which allowed her a moment to take a deep breath and count to ten. 

“No…how? How is he going to do that when nothing happened in the video? It was just us kissing and his shirt coming off. Not mine!” 

“I'm not a lawyer, Seph, I don't know. That's just what Alexa heard, so it could hold zero weight.” 

“Does Noah know?” 

“Yeah…apparently your dad also paid him a visit…fuck, I wasn't supposed to tell you that.” 

More hushed voices rambled off in the background. The main one she could make out was from Alexa still, but a new one had been added that caught her off guard.

“Who the hell are you being so secretive with?” 

His voice came through loud and clear this time, so Seph assumed he had lowered the phone to play it off like he wasn't on it. Not very smart, Nick. Not smart at all. 

“Huh? No one. I was just gonna order a pizza.” 

“Nick, you're a terrible liar. What are you doing?”

Seph sunk down further in the bathtub, a hand holding her forehead in complete disbelief for what was happening. It was the first time she had heard Noah’s voice since she saw him last, and of course it had to be when she was talking to his best friend on the down low. 

“Pom? Who’s Pom?” 

NOAH

There was a brief moment of tug-of-war as he tried to wrestle the phone from Nick. Never had his best friend kept something from him, at least not to his knowledge, but especially not when he had been caught red handed. 

Finally, Nick gave in and released the device, allowing him to turn it around until he could clearly read the name plastered on the screen. 

“Pom? Who's Pom?” His brows furrowed in confusion, though he still lifted the phone up to his ear. There was no sound on the other end, except for the very faint hint of a breath being taken. Then, the line went dead, the call ending from the other side. 

Nick was staring at him with wide eyes and he could already see the explanation just waiting to escape him. 

“Dude…I'm sorry,” he began, hands holding out in a defensive stance. “Pom is Seph…ya know, like pomegranate? Persephone is a goddess who-”

“I know who Persephone is! I understand the reference, Nick!”

“Right, yeah. You know how she would always say 'you're a peach' to me? Well, she just started calling me peach one day and it stuck, so she became Pom and it was just this dumb thing to help her while she's away, and -”

“You've been talking to her this entire time?”

Nick paused, his body relaxing for a brief moment as he thought back to when their first conversation could've been. 

“Not the entire time…probably since last September?” 

Noah was really hoping Nick could feel the fire in his glare, because boy, was it intense. What the hell was he supposed to do with this information? Should he even be mad? It was honestly the fact that Nick kept it from him that really pissed him off. Why would he? Unless…Seph had asked for him to. 

“She doesn't want to talk to me.” It didn't take much for him to put it all together. Seph was complicated as all hell, but she could be predictable at times too. 

“No, she does. She does, okay? She hasn't straight up told me why she won't, but my guess is that she's embarrassed. I don't know! I'm not an expert on teenage girls!” 

“You two are just best friends now or something?” 

Nick heavily exhaled, his arms dropping down to his sides in defeat. A silence settled between them, one that was just long enough for each of them to gather their thoughts. Or, at least try to. 

“Dude…come on.” Nick shook his head slowly at Noah, a look of disbelief beginning to move across his features. “Don't make me seem like an asshole because I was trying to be there for her.”

That's exactly how Noah saw it, though. Although he wouldn't always have this opinion on the matter, it's how he felt currently. He wanted to be the one there for Seph. He wanted to help her through whatever it was she was struggling with. She wouldn't let him be that person, though, and that's what really stung. 

Fuck, why was he letting a girl he had been friends with for a month plague his mind like this? 

“It's whatever, man. I'll just see her when she gets out, I guess.” 

Noah didn't want this to become a huge conflict between him and Nick. As easy as it would've been for him to argue his point right then, it wasn't worth the headache. Nick was his best friend, and had been for years, while Seph was only just a girl he had developed an infatuation with. 

PERSEPHONE 

“I know it's bad timing, dear, but your father and I expected you to be home next week.”

On and on her mother went during the drive home, all while Seph spent the duration staring out the window. Her fingers were itching to get a hold of her phone but the device had yet to be given back to her - of course. Honestly, she would be surprised if her parents let her have it back at all. 

But at least it seemed like the snow queen was over the disastrous ending that was her beloved vases. 

“But, we’ll have a nice dinner as a family tonight, then he and I will be back Sunday evening.” 

Seph wanted to laugh at how ridiculous her mom sounded. When did they ever have nice dinners together? At least one, if not both, of her parents always ended up wandering off to take business calls in the middle of meals, leaving her to eat alone. What was so nice about that? 

“Does that sound like a plan?” 

Forcing a slight smile, she finally looked over to the older woman and nodded. “Yeah, sounds good to me.” 

Although Seph could tell that her mother was trying, she was curious to know how much of it was genuine. They had never had a strong relationship to begin with, but that was expected given how her parents chose to put their careers ahead of their daughter. Seph used to be sad about it, though she stopped caring as much the older she got. Them not being around sure as hell didn't stop them from putting the pressure on whenever possible. 

× × ×

“No, the doctors said her medications may make her…unlike herself for a bit.” The woman spoke in a murmur to her father upon their arrival home, as if Seph couldn't hear them. 

“A bit? She's been on them for nearly a year now. How much time does it take?” 

“However much it does, Chris. I don't know.” Her mother retorted, the annoyance evident in her tone. 

Seph didn't hear much more because she had made it to the top of the staircase, now aiming straight for her bedroom. She just wanted to be alone for the first time in forever. No worries of nurses and doctors barging in, or the occasional fellow patient that tried to make friends with her. 

There was a sudden halt in her steps when she entered her room. It definitely wasn't how she had left it aka in an utter mess. No, it was thoroughly cleaned now. Nothing out of place. Just as it usually was before things began to truly go downhill for her. Shaking her head to herself, Seph pushed her suitcase off to the side to tend to later, her gaze glancing over to her desk. Lying on top were multiple college applications, as well as letters from others she had applied to before leaving. Columbia, Brown, Dartmouth - ‘her’ top choices. Not really. Those were actually choices that belonged to her parents. 

With furrowed brows, Seph carefully shifted the papers around. Her lips moved as she quietly skimmed over the gist of each letter, her anger bubbling with every word. All the letters claimed acceptance for this year’s fall semester. 

“What the fuck?” She muttered to herself just before she abruptly pulled her hand from the pages. She couldn't handle this right now. The last thing she wanted to think about was what her father had been up to while she was gone. Paying off universities? That was a new low for even him. No way in hell would they have willingly taken her after everything, but Seph was sure their minds were changed as soon as her dad made a hefty donation. How many libraries or community centers now had their name plastered across them? 

“Oh…you've already seen the letters.”

Seph lifted her head to see her mother standing in her doorway, a slight uneasiness to her. 

“Well, they are on my desk. Seems like someone wanted me to see them.” 

Marilyn, the snow queen in question, took in a deep breath and heavily exhaled while crossing the threshold inside. She immediately approached where Seph stood, her own hands frantically shuffling the papers together and then tucking them beneath her arm. 

“No need to worry about those right now.” Reaching back with her free hand, the older woman then retrieved something before extending it out to Seph. It was her phone. 

“I figured you could use a bit of normalcy again.” 

Hesitantly, Seph accepted the device, slowly nodding. 

“Thanks,” she lowly spoke. 

This whole demeanor that her mom was portraying was very out of the ordinary for her. She couldn't help but to be slightly taken back by it. Maybe it made it appear as if she wasn't actually thankful, although she was. Who could blame her for being suspicious, though? After what had happened, this was the last sort of interaction she was expecting. 

“Dinner will be at six, okay?” 

Seph watched as her mother walked away, giving her a small nod in understanding. Once she was gone, she followed the same path she took, only to quietly close the bedroom door to allow her some privacy. There was then a need within her to get her phone turned on. She rushed over to the side of her bed where she typically had her charger plugged in, relieved to see that the cord remained. After inserting it into her phone, she waited a few seconds, then the Apple logo popped up. 

A sigh of relief left her, her body lowering down to sit on the edge of her bed. As the device powered on for the first time in who knows how long, notification after notification began to flash across the screen. 

grl are you okay?? 

i'm worried! 

Alexa 

Heard about your incident. Dramatic. 

Seriously? Call me. 

Stop being a baby. I'm sure daddy made sure you have your phone. 

Sweden? That's laughable. You hate fish. You'd never survive on the cuisine. 

No one believes that's where you are, by the way. 

Your dad is fucking insane!!!! 

Maisie 

babe come on talk to me. 

i’m not mad about you and emo guy. 

maisie showed me the video but it's fuckin dumb. 

lol can't believe you were gonna fuck him tho. 

sweden?? and you didn't tell me?? wtf

Mason 

OMG miss you! 

damn it's gonna suck to not have any infamous Seph parties senior year! 

Aw hope you have so much fun abroad! I loved it when I went! 

u are not gunna believe wat i heard about u

Random “friends”

I miss you. 

Noah 

It was a horrible idea for her to read any of these, but she couldn't bring herself to look away. There were a lot that she deleted, most being from unknown numbers or people she hadn't even spoken to since way before all of this. Everyone obviously just wanted some entail and they thought going directly to the source would work out for them. Oh how wrong they were. 

The last message she read was what really got to her, though. She assumed Noah had known the truth of what happened pretty early on, meaning that his text from only a couple of months ago was honest. That's what she was telling herself, at least. Every other text thread was deleted except for that one, then she started a new one. 

‘Home. Need to see a friendly face.’ 

Seph stared down at the screen as if Nick would have already replied when she knew he was busier than usual these days. The band, working at a tattoo shop, it all left very little downtime for him and the others. But much to her surprise, the little gray bubble appeared, indicating that he was typing. 

‘FUCK YEA DUDE!!’

'Come by the shop!’

'I'm here working on some pieces until probably 9’

It was impossible for her to explain how at ease she now felt knowing someone was excited about her being back, especially when that someone happened to be one of the only people she considered a friend. Getting close to Nick had come out of left field; definitely not done on purpose since she always felt like he only tolerated her for Noah. Who ever would've thought they would've gotten as close as they had while hours away? It was all strictly platonic, though. She looked at Nick as more of a brother type, and she knew he viewed her the same. Well…as a sister, but same sentiment. 

After dinner, she would slip away and somehow make it to the tattoo shop Nick had mentioned a few times. Maybe she’d get lucky and her parents would do their usual routine of acting as if she wasn't even there, just so she wouldn't have to awkwardly crawl out of her window. Plus, that would also mean they wouldn't realize she had left. Perfect. All she had to do was make it through dinner…

Well, that wasn't currently going so well. 

Her favorite meal had been cooked for the night, though her appetite was nearly nonexistent these days. Was it the mental issues? Or the meds she downed to help fix said issues? Either way, a few bites was all she could stomach. 

“Not hungry?” Her mother spoke up first, her lips showcasing a sympathetic smile. 

Okay, seriously. What the hell had gotten into her? 

“No…not really. Sorry.” 

Marilyn shook her head in a way to silently tell Seph that it was okay, but before she could verbally respond, her father was beating her to it. 

“You need to eat,” he demanded as he eyed her from across the table. “It'll help you feel better to have decent food again.” 

Seph stared at the older man, inwardly biting her tongue to prevent herself from saying anything too rash. No need to cause an argument on her first night back. 

“I don't think I'll be feeling too great when this doesn't sit well and ends up in the toilet.” 

A heavy sigh came from her mother, who then covered the sound by taking a long swallow from her glass of wine. Ugh, she should've snuck a few sips for herself before dinner began. 

Although Seph could tell that there was something needing to be said that was right on the tip of her father’s tongue, he remained silent. The daggers he glared at her were loud enough. Before anything could be set off, she carefully slid her chair back and stood up. 

“Where are you going?” Her father sternly questioned as she walked by with her sights set on the front door. Seph snagged a set of car keys and clutched them tight within her palm, fully prepared to make a run for it if she really needed to. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that. 

“I just need some air.” 

There was a start of a protest from her parents, but she didn't linger long enough to hear whatever it was they had to say. She was already out the door and closing the distance between herself and her mom’s car. 

× × ×

It was a blessing that she knew downtown Richmond like the back of her hand or else she never would've found the tattoo shop tucked in along the congested street. There was a neon red ‘open' sign glowing in the window, but nothing beyond that really told you what the business was until you were right on top of it. Not too surprising to her that the guys would work somewhere low key. 

There was a faint jingle from the bell above the door as she entered the building, though she figured the bell was only for show because the music playing inside easily drowned it out. A girl with multiple piercings shining on her face sat behind the front desk, and the opening and closing of the door caused her to look up at who could possibly be coming in near closing time. 

“Hey…” she hesitantly spoke, though a polite smile was visible on her lips. “I'm looking for Nick.” 

Piercing girl glanced over her shoulder and leaned back in her seat a bit as if trying to see something just out of reach. 

“Do you have an appointment?” She questioned after returning to her resting position. “We aren't taking walk ins right now.” 

“Oh…no…I'm just a friend of his.” Seph almost blurted out that she wasn't even old enough to get a tattoo, though she figured that surely would've gotten her kicked out. “He told me to stop by.” 

“Seph?”

A familiar voice broke through before either of the girls could exchange any more words. She lifted her eyes to see Nick stepping through a door that led to the back, both of them sharing near identical smiles at the sight of each other. Seph slid around the counter and rushed over with quick steps, her arms immediately being thrown around his neck to embrace in a close hug. 

“Peach!” She excitedly exclaimed while her arms squeezed him so tight that she was convinced she was cutting off his ability to breathe. Never had she and Nick really even touched, yet here they were, embracing each other as people within the tattoo shop awkwardly sideyed them. 

“Your hair!” Seph gasped as she pulled back to look at him, her hands now grasping his shoulders. Nick mimicked her stance, laughing as her eyes scanned all around his face and the new tattoos he adorned. “You cut it!” 

“People tend to get haircuts every now and then,” he continued to laugh. 

“Yeah, but it's kinda all mullet-y now! I love it!” It didn't matter that he had a beanie on in the middle of the summer. She could still see those new layers. 

“If you think I look different, then just wait until you see Noah. Dude has grown at least two - shit, sorry, Pom.”

The smile she wore began to fade at his mention of Noah, her grip on his shoulders loosening. She didn't like this reaction her mind and body immediately had to his mere existence being brought up. Hopefully this glitch in her system would work itself out. 

“It's all good,” she shook her head. “I'm gonna have to face the music at some point, yeah?”

Nick gave her a sympathetic smile to accompany the gentle squeeze of her shoulder. He then nodded his head towards the door he had come from, motioning for her to follow. 

“Come on, let's get away from all this fucking noise.” 

Ushering her into the back room, Seph was greeted by what appeared to be a break area; a table with a couple of chairs, a fridge, couch, and all the other workings for people to be comfortable when working long shifts. In front of the couch there was a coffee table with different sketches strewn about it. She assumed this is what Nick had been working on. 

“I had no idea you were doing tattoo stuff,” she muttered softly while approaching the coffee table to gaze down upon the drawings. 

“You never asked.” Nick shrugged, his body bent to peer into the fridge towards the back of the room. “I mean, I never really asked things about you either, so I guess we're both assholes.” 

Seph glanced back at him, extending a sheepish smile. “Sorry. I've had a lot going on up here.” She motioned to her head before lowering down onto the couch. 

Nick was following suit not too long after, his hands holding out a bottle of water for her while the other clasped around a beer for himself. 

“Hey!” She laughed, eying the other beverage. “Not fair!” 

“What? You're not old enough to drink.” Nick chuckled while taking a swallow from the can. 

“Neither are you!” 

Although her eyes narrowed at him in a glare, she was only joking. She released a dramatic sigh, but then took the offered water and twisted the cap off. “You better be glad I shouldn’t drink with my meds.” 

After taking a couple of sips from her water, she carefully placed the bottle on the coffee table and then tugged the sketchbook into her lap. She began to slowly flip through the pages, though she hadn't even bothered to ask if she could. Oops. 

“How is…all of that going, by the way?” 

“Fine, I guess,” she gave a single shoulder shrug. “Everything is amazing and perfect.” 

Nick’s eye roll was so pronounced that she swore she heard his eyes somersaulting in his skull. He then sighed, his face telling her that he was not convinced. 

“You're full of shit,” he smiled despite the attempt at a serious conversation that she was trying to shoot down. 

Seph laughed, nodding. “Yeah, I am.” 

With a pause in her page flipping, she glanced over to him, seeing that he was staring directly at her. There was no way he was going to drop the topic. As annoying as it was, Seph was a little…touched that Nick cared enough to actually ask. Not even her parents had. 

“I don't really like them,” she honestly revealed. “They always make my brain feel like it's in a fog. I'm mega tired, nothing tastes good, and all I want to do is rot in my bed.” 

A finger then tapped the page she had been staring down at, the drawing that of some sort of creature with horns. She had no idea what it was, but she liked it. “This is cool,” she complimented with hopes to change the subject. 

Seph knew she should've known better than to even attempt it. 

“Hey,” Nick tried to gain her attention, which she eventually gave him by lifting her head and meeting his gaze. “You know you can talk to me, right? Noah, too…he’d probably sing about it all night if you did.” 

Offering a faint smile, she nodded. “I know…it's just hard talking to anyone about things, but especially Noah. Opening up has never been easy for me.” 

As easy as it would've been for her to elaborate on this, she didn't. She wasn't trying to make this a pity party for herself. Coming by to see Nick was actually supposed to be the exact opposite of that. 

Nick leaned forward a bit, his elbows resting on his knees and both hands grasping the beer can. “Talk. To. Him.” He further explained, this being his final attempt at trying to get her to do what they all knew needed to be done. 

“You'll end up regretting it if you don't.” 

× × ×

It was that conversation that landed her in the guys’ shared home the following night. Again she had left her own house without explanation; fully ignoring her parents on her way out. They seemed to be letting her do whatever for now, though she wasn't sure how much longer she would be able to push her luck. Whatever. They should just be glad she had finally ditched the sweatpants for a pair of shorts and slapped some makeup on her face for the first time in a year. It was minimal, but at least she cared enough about something to try. 

Nick had claimed it was only going to be a small get together, but the ten to fifteen people mingling around told her otherwise. No, it wasn't anywhere near the level her parties had been, but it was still a bit much for someone in her current mental state. Seph was determined to power through, though. She was desperate to return to her old self. At least in some aspects. 

“Oh my god! Sephy!” 

There was barely time to react before Alexa was rushing to her, forcing her into a tight hug that she had not been prepared for. She still smiled, choking out a soft laugh as her hands hesitantly patted the girl's back. 

“I thought I heard Nick say something about you being back! Oh my god! This is amazing! How are you?!” 

While her and Alexa had been kinda friends before this whole thing, she wouldn't have considered them to be close. They were acquaintances at best, though she was assuming things were going well between her and Folio if she was still hanging with the guys. Guess that meant she would have to stay on her good side as well. 

“I'm good! Yeah, things are going good.” Seph nodded once they had broken from the hug. She felt as if she was going to be telling this lie a lot going forward. 

Alexa gasped and held onto her arm, her eyes going wide as she looked back to the room she had just emerged from. “Have you seen Noah yet?! He's going to be so fucking stoked to see you. I know it.” 

Opening her mouth to speak, she wasn't even able to get a word out before Alexa was pulling her along to the next room. Her voice called out for Noah, repeating his name a couple of times. 

“Look who's finally back from Sweden!” Alexa gently bumped her with her shoulder as she laughed, and when she glanced over to the girl, she winked at her. Huh, okay. Was everyone just going to be in on this joke? 

“Sweden?” A guy with long dark hair that was pulled half back she didn't recognize spoke up, a bright smile taking up his face. “Hallå!”

Alexa laughed again as she reached out to his shoulder, shaking her head. 

As much as Seph wanted to figure out what that was about, she was now far too lost in the other guy that stood in front of her. Noah. Her eyes stuck to him, unable to look away, though she didn't want to. He had definitely filled out some within the last year and his hair was much longer, but it suited him. 

Also, when the hell had he gotten a neck tattoo? 

NOAH

Persephone fucking Hill. 

In his house. 

Staring up at him with awe. 

Fuck. 

What the hell was he supposed to say? Good to see you? Wow, so glad you're free? Nice tits?

Okay, definitely not the last one. That was a bad thought for him to even have. But still, nothing felt like it would be the right thing to say after how things ended. 

“Long time no see,” he then blurted out. 

Goddammit. That was lame as fuck. 

Noah could sense both Jolly and Alexa picking up on the awkward vibes because they took simultaneous swallows of their drinks and then slipped away in a nonchalant manner. 

“I probably wouldn't have even recognized you if Alexa hadn't dragged me over here.” Seph chuckled, and he knew immediately that she was just as nervous as he was. That was a bit of a relief. 

He wanted to tell her that that was okay because he would've spotted her within seconds. The words didn't leave his mouth, though. Actually, no words did. Noah continued to stare at her, both of them holding the other’s gaze. 

No, he couldn't get caught up in Seph again. It wasn't good for him. It wasn't good for her. Neither of them were what the other needed. That's what he had been telling himself for a year as he tried to get over her. Noah wished he could say that it had worked. 

“Noah…can we skip the weirdness of acting like we don't know each other? I've had a lot of time to think about how this would go, y’know, when we saw each other again, and every interaction I imagined was awkward…to say the least.” 

Seph laughed as a hand lifted to tuck her hair behind her ear, her eyes tearing from his for a brief moment. He inwardly frowned when this happened, already missing the sight of her honey colored irises. But when she didn't look back at him yet, he finally nodded and glanced around the kitchen. 

“Do you want a drink? I can fix you something.” Noah was already reaching for bottles before she could reply because of course he remembered her favorite mix: fruit punch and vodka. He found it revolting but he had a fond memory of her mouth dyed red one night when they sat in her backyard, and she was telling him some story he didn't remember all because of said red dye. 

“Sure…but hold the vodka.” She placed a hand on his wrist to stop him from untwisting the cap of the liquor, the small touch like fire on his skin. 

“I'm not really drinking at the moment.” 

It then dawned on him that Seph was probably on some medications she had been instructed not to mix alcohol with. He was tempted to tell her that it would be fine because he did it all the time, but this maybe wasn't the time. Seph was a big girl. She could make her own decisions. 

“Oh, yeah, that's cool. Just fruit punch it is then.” As he set the vodka bottle aside, he instead grabbed the juice and filled the cup half way before passing it her way. She gazed at him from over the rim while taking a sip, that sight alone making him weak in the knees. 

Get it the fuck together, Noah. 

“This is probably when I should tell you that I'm sorry…”

It seemed as if apologies at parties were starting to become their new norm. He couldn't say he was very fond of it. 

Noah took in a deep breath before swallowing from his own drink, his head shaking while lowering the cup. 

“You don't have to do that, Seph. Seriously. Ancient history.” 

He watched as she shifted awkwardly before leaning a hip into the kitchen island they stood behind. She looked basically the same, though maybe a few pounds lighter and her hair was longer, just as his was. Noah assumed the former had to do with the lack of decent food, and probably just a lack of appetite all together. He understood how it could be when starting medications. 

“I saw your text.” 

Noah froze, his mind racing to figure out what she was talking about. He then remembered the one message he had sent a couple of months ago when he had been up way too late and lost in his thoughts. It happened a lot but he usually had enough self control to not message her. That night, not so much. 

When he didn't say anything, she continued. 

“I missed you too.” 

That made him scoff, head shaking while taking another generous swallow of his drink. He looked off to the side as if interested in whatever his friends were doing, but he was actually trying to hold back his words. 

Glancing back to Seph, her brows were furrowed in confusion. 

Noah shrugged, fingers tapping against the side of his cup he held. “I need to talk to you about something.” 

With no other explanation, he placed a hand against her lower back while gently maneuvering her out of the kitchen and to the opposite side of the house where his room was. Noah could tell Seph was lost, which wasn't a shock. He wasn't exactly being very forthcoming right then. 

The door to his bedroom was quietly closed, then he was turning to look at her again. He expected her to be staring back at him, but she was actually slowly stepping around his room, studying the minimal items he had on the walls and on his desk. Clutter and knickknacks had never really been his thing. 

It was then that Noah realized this was the first time Seph had been in his room, or just where he lived in general. They were always somewhere less personal before, until the night of her party. 

“So, uh, your dad came and talked to me while you were gone.” 

He had no idea how to approach this topic, though he figured it was best to do it sooner rather than later. 

“I heard…” she murmured, her focus up on the framed images hanging on his wall. “That sounds like it was loads of fun.” 

Noah chuckled, a hand rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. “Not exactly the words I'd use.” 

“What did he want?” 

A few steps were taken so he stood at her side, his eyes down on her while hers remained elsewhere. There was an urge to reach out and touch the bare skin of her shoulder, brush her hair aside, but he resisted by shoving his free hand into his pocket. 

“He tossed out a lot of legal jargon, probably just to confuse me, but what I gathered is that he's thinking about pressing charges against Maisie. He also had a few choice words for me and our friendship.” 

Seph then looked at him, head tilted up at just the right angle for their eyes to meet. Her figure shifted and turned a bit, both of them facing each other. 

“I'm not going to let him press charges,” she exclaimed with a confidence that he hadn't been expecting. “Nothing happened in the video.” 

Was she not interested in the last bit he had tossed in? 

“He doesn't want us around each other.” 

This made her softly laugh, her eyes rolling. “Of course he doesn't.” 

“I'm not really su-”

“What do you think about that?” Seph cut him off, her eyebrow arched curiously. 

Noah stumbled over his words a bit since he hadn't really thought that in depth about it yet. He figured he needed to see how things were between them first. And now that he had…he still had no idea. 

“Do you want us to not be around each other?” She repeated her question with different wording, as if that would get an actual response out of him. 

“No…” he hesitantly replied, a slight smile appearing. 

“Then what he wants or has to say doesn't matter.” 

Again, Noah was struggling to find his words. Fuck. This was not going how he wanted it to. He was supposed to be agreeing with her dad, telling her that it was best for them to stay away from each other. But nope, he couldn't bring himself to say it. How could he when she was looking at him like that?

“I really did miss you.” 

Welp, that really cut his growing mood a bit. 

“It's actually funny that you say that since you didn't make any attempt to talk to me.” 

There was no way he could continue to bite his tongue on the matter when she just kept bringing it up…kind of. Inadvertently. 

“But you talked to Nick…how many times? Multiple times a week for nearly a year?” 

Seph bit down into her lower lip, her gaze dropping to the carpet in shame. Damn. Now he felt bad. 

No. He wouldn't let her get to him that easily. 

“I…I know it was shitty, okay? I didn't even mean to start talking to him. His Instagram was public so I was able to message him from a nurse’s account. I just wanted to check in…see how everyone was…but then talking to him helped keep my mind at ease when I really needed it.” 

Noah now did an eye roll of his own, his feet shuffling back a bit so he could place some distance between them. That sure as hell didn't explain why she hadn't talked to him. Only why she hadn't contacted him first. 

“Fuck, Noah. I was terrified to talk to you, is that what you want to hear? I didn't want to know how mad you were at me or find out what you thought about me after everything.” 

“Mad? I wasn't mad at you, Seph. I was worried! You kick me out, I don't hear from you, and then I find out from Alexa that you're gone?” 

A hand ran over his face, heavily exhaling. He definitely hadn't been prepared to have this conversation with her right then. 

“And what do you mean by what I thought of you? I always looked at you like the sun fucking shone out of your ass, so why would that have changed?” 

Seph was physically taken back by his statement. Her mouth fell open a bit, but then promptly closed. Head shaking, he could see the clench in her jaw. This told him that she was not happy. 

“No, you looked at me like I was this perfect unobtainable thing! You were just as blind to everything like my parents were because you couldn't fathom the fact that someone you saw as sunshine was falling apart bit by bit everyday!” 

It was Noah's turn to be taken back now. He stared straight at Seph, sporting a clenched jaw of his own that rivaled hers. 

“I didn't want you to think of me like that, Noah. And I know it's ass backwards and doesn't make sense. Don't want you to see me as perfect…don't want you to see me breaking down…” Seph shook her head to herself, her hands moving about as she spoke at a rather fast pace. 

“Believe me, I'm confused too.” 

“You've got to stop caring so much about what other people think. If someone judges you for breaking under pressure, then you call them an ‘asshole’ and keep it moving!” 

Seph had her eyes cast to the ceiling, her lips folded in for only a brief moment. He was waiting for her to say something - anything - that let him know she understood. 

“It's not that simple.”

Nope. Not the response he was hoping to hear. 

“But it is that simple, Seph. Why the fuck do you care about what other people have to say? Myself included.” 

“I don't…” she stammered over the two words, and Noah could tell that even she wasn't convinced. 

“Why, Seph?” He found himself taking a step closer to where she stood, his voice a little softer now than it previously had been. It hadn't been his intention to get so worked up, especially not when this was the first time they were seeing each other in what felt like forever. 

Noah could see the tears welling in her eyes. He knew that she knew why. It was only a matter of whether or not she was going to reveal this to him. He wasn't going to push her, but he was well aware of how this all needed to go. Seph needed to admit it to herself. 

“Because…I only feel worth anything when I know people like me.” 

PERSEPHONE 

And there it was. The truth Noah had been trying to tug out of her since the beginning of it all. It felt juvenile to say, admitting that people’s thoughts and opinions of her was what made her feel good about herself. Did that mean Maisie had been right about her? Was she only interested in Noah because of how he used to once look at her as if she was perfect? 

No, she wouldn't let that be true. He was worth so much more than that to her, even if she had a horrible way of showing it. 

“Fuck other people, Seph. They don't mean anything. Only the people who you feel like yourself around are the ones who matter.” 

“And what if they see parts of me they don't like? Hm? What happens then? What happens when you realize I'm just some fucked up girl who isn't worth the hassle?” 

Seph couldn't stop her voice from breaking as she laid it all out for him. If Noah wanted honesty, then that's what she would give him. And if he happened to run, well, at least she could say 'I told ya so’. 

Instead of using his words, Noah was quick to cross the remainder of the bedroom to where she stood. His large hands enveloped her face and soon he was pulling her up into a kiss that made her heart race and her breathing halt, all at the same time. She was unable to stop herself from leaning into him, eager to have as much of him pressed against her as she could. It was just like they were back in her room a year ago when she craved to truly feel him. Definitely didn't take much for that need to return full force. 

Seph didn't dare break from the kiss as her hand came up to grasp the back of his neck, her fingers briefly tangling into the long strands of his hair. She actually somehow managed to deepen the kiss even as Noah progressed forward, both of them taking in sync steps back to where his bed was. 

As soon as she was lying back against his perfectly made bed, Noah followed right behind her. She pulled him down close against her, his lithe frame settling between her legs, knees pressed firm into his hips. One hand held himself up while the other drifted beneath the shirt she wore, just to feel the warmth of her skin against his own. Seph broke from his lips for mere seconds so she could rid him of his own shirt, which Noah took as an invitation to do the same. It had definitely been one. 

“Noah…” she murmured into his mouth as they again collided in a heated kiss. As much as she didn't want to, she managed to pull back a bit, just as his fingers began to work on the button of her shorts. Though when she stopped, his hands also paused. Seph licked over her lips as she gazed up at him. She was then thankful for her flushed cheeks because that meant the blush creeping up was well hidden. 

“I've never done this before…” she admitted, despite knowing that he probably already knew this from past conversations. As well as Maisie outing her during all of that commotion. There was just a weird urge she had to properly disclose the information to him. 

Noah released her shorts, though his hands shifted to glide along her hips and up her sides in a soothing manner. “Are you sure?” 

There was a pause and then he was shaking his head, laughing in slight embarrassment at himself. “Not ‘are you sure' you haven't done this because I think you'd know if you had. But are you sure that you want to…right now…with me?” 

Of course she couldn't help but to laugh along with him, her nose scrunching at how flustered he had just made himself. Noah’s cheeks were now red with a blush and it was a sight she was hoping to always remember. 

Seph sunk her teeth into her lower lip after their laughter had died down. She didn't want to hesitate with her response because she didn't want Noah to think she was second guessing anything. Maybe the timing wasn't ideal, considering there was a get together happening on the other side of the wall, but Seph wasn't the kind of girl who needed planning and rose petals. The social construct of virginity wasn't that deep to her, not like how a lot of people made it out to be.  All that she cared about was trusting the other person and actually caring about them…much like how she cared for Noah. 

“Yes,” she finally spoke with confidence, just so Noah knew she wasn't second guessing anything that had to do with him. 

Noah then took in a deep breath, giving her a nod of his own before his head angled down and his lips trailed slowly along her neck. Oh, so now he was going to take his time? 

“Just one thing…” she breathlessly mumbled after her eyes had fluttered closed and she was doing all she could to focus on the new sensations sweeping through her. 

“Anything,” Noah continued to kiss and bite at the sensitive skin of her neck, his fingers returning to the button of her shorts that he managed to swiftly pop free. 

Seph softly laughed, her hand lifting to cradle the side of his head in a way that made him pull back just enough to gaze down at her. 

“Can you lock the door?” 

CHAPTER FOUR JUMP

× End of chapter notes!: One guess as to where my eyes started crossing because I was beyond tired but needed to get this completed at a decent stopping point. :') ANYWAYYY, not me pausing halfway through and thinking, "is this about to become a Ruffilo fic?" A story really does write itself sometimes but NO. I had to refrain. But will there more little Peach and Pom moments? Yes. ♥‿♥

If anyone can tell me what the preferred chapter length is among the masses, then that would be greaaat. Stop me from my wild ramblings. Please. Unless you guys are into it and then I guess I'll just keep on truckin'.