#and i spotted a mistake in a tricky question

[imaginary-wanderer]

Or when you correct a French language question in the application test of your company...

[kvthgok]

Surprise? | Miguel O’Hara x Teen Spider Reader (Platonic)

Warnings- none

Summary - Durning a mission you get hurt and try to hide your injury from Miguel

Side note - IM SO SRRY YALL THAT I HAVENT BEEN POSTING LATELY 😭🙏. SOMEWHAT PROOFREAD BTWWWW (ALSO to those who did request ideas I DID read them and am currently writing them 🤍🤍)

It was like any other day in the spider society. Fighting and sending anomalies back to their earths. But things had taken a slight little turn.

You had asked Miguel if you could tag along on a mission with him. It had token some convincing but half of it was just you begging. Miguel didn’t really like the thought of you going on actual tricky missions. He would normally send you on missions to catch the anomalies of the week. But not serious dangerous ones, especially the new anomaly Spot.

As you and Miguel were standing on a building Miguel was going over emergency plans.“Okay kid if anything goes downhill and you open a portal back to HQ immediately. I’ll be fine and finish up the mission myself.” Miguel looked at you trying to reassure you that he would be fine if you needed to leave.

Miguel sighed and then looked at the mission in front of you. “Ok you ready?” He asked you. His tone shifted back to a bit more stern and serious.

Yup!” You Said putting on my mask

The two of guys both put on your mask then swung off the building to the chaos down there.

Skip time after fight (cuz I’m to lazy & suck dookie at writing fight scenes🤭)

Miguel had met back up with you and was checking to make sure you were alright.

“You alright kid?” Miguel said having a tiny hint of concern in his voice.

He was about to say something else but stopped himself. He didn’t want to seem to over protective.

“The mission was a success. Good job kid.” Miguel said instead with a slight proud smile

He looked down at you and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah you alright kid? You didn’t get injured out there right?” He didn’t look too concerned but he had that same small hint of worry in his voice.

“Mhm yeah im fine.” I Said with a Small smile.

You had lied. Your hand was hurting like a bitch. The anomaly had stomped on it while fighting. You only lied to Miguel so he didn’t have to worry. Your lie seemed to work though.

Skip few days

These past days Miguel has noticed you had been laying off one of your hands and questioned you one night about it.

“Kid remember that time on the mission when you told me you weren’t hurt?” Miguel asked with a neutral expression.

“Yeah..why?” You said trying to act normal.

Miguel sighed and looked at you for a few seconds. “Don’t try to act like your normal. I’m not that stupid. Show me your injured hand.” Miguel’s tone had shifted back to being stern.

You still tried to act like you didn’t know what he was talking about.

He sighed out of annoyance and called out for Lyla telling her to scan you. She did find something. Your hurt hand.

Miguel was more annoyed then anything at this point. He had known you were lying to him this whole time. “So your telling me you’ve kept this injury hidden for a few days and didn’t tell me?” Miguel asked you while looking annoyed.

You nervously smiled not knowing what to say, “Surprise?”

He had a pissed off look on his face as he looked down at you, “Your not funny.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you had an injured hand when we got back to headquarters. I could’ve done something about it.” Miguel said with a stern tone.

“I didn’t want to you worry that’s why I didn’t say anything about it.” I said scratching my head looking down

Miguel looked at you for a few seconds. You could tell he was trying not to lash out. He sighed a bit and then spoke. “The next time you have an injury like this tell me please. This injury could’ve gotten a lot worse if you kept quite and let it fester for long periods of time.” Miguel spoke with a gentle tone even though he was pissed.

Miguel looked down at you once more. He could see that you had learned from this mistake. “I get it you didn’t want me to worry. Just don’t make that mistake again.” Miguel said looking a little less annoyed about this.

“Sorry Miguel” I Said in a low tone

“Its alright kid but next time just tell me. I want to make sure your always safe alright.” Miguel spoke with his eyes looking slightly softer and less stern.

[amywritesthings]

silver underground. / chapter nine.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x F!Reader (Attack on Titan / Shingeki no Kyojin)

Word Count: 3.3K

Summary: Day 162 - also known as the first day of the expedition

Warnings: titans, blood and violence mention, arguments, semi-gaslighting, …things get heated in a wink wink nudge nudge way

Previous Chapter. / Next Chapter. | Masterlist.

CHAPTER NINE.

“Head’s up! Titan spotted on the northeast.”

It’s the first time the Captain of the Special Operations Squad has spoken to the group this morning, inching towards the early afternoon.

The team formation is simple: you’re dead center in a protective diamond while Levi’s black stallion charges in the lead. This was a non-negotiable decision, unanimously agreed upon by your Scout colleagues. 

Your safety, as they claim, is their top priority.

(The mission, as you'd argue, should be their top priority instead.)

And after yesterday's argument, you still feel sour. Devastated. Low, like their efforts don't really mean much.

Lack of sleep can get your comrades killed.

Why would he say that? Did Levi do something wrong when you were still yourself?

Through supper and well into the evening hours, you're stuck on that very question. Every word, every syllable, is loaded.

Lack of sleep can get your comrades killed. Don’t repeat past mistakes.

Just thinking about it breaks your skin into a cold sweat.

(Was it not Levi who fucked up, but you?)

You can’t ask.

Levi managed to avoid group breakfast in the crawling dawn, out of sight and out of mind until the agreed upon expedition hour — 06:00 hours — came to a head.

"How big is it?" Eld asks, squinting against the sun.

"Three meters at most," Levi states.

“I got this,” Eld promises, breaking formation at Levi’s right hand as his horse gallops to the right side of the diamond.

The decorated steed veers into the east, before a burst of life ignites the wires of Eld's ODM gear.

He latches onto the nearby tree trunks, zipping through the field to eliminate the problem.

“Show off,” Oluo huffs.

You continue riding along with the rest of the group, watching as the three-meter titan goes down without much of a fight. Eld uses the fallen body to latch into its skin, zipping back towards the group with ease.

Killing titans is easy.

Predicting where they might come from is where it gets tricky.

It’s like this for hours — spotting rogue titans, mostly under five meters, mindlessly wandering the fields of what used to be. The squad takes turns destroying the humanoid creatures, giving everyone ample opportunity to get their blades wet.

Everyone but you.

After yesterday’s fight, you’re too scared to ask Levi why — so you keep your mouth shut.

The tension is palpable despite your best efforts; Petra gives a look every few kilometers, curious as to why you have yet to speak up or participate in sporadic conversation. In your peripheral vision you see the way her round eyes scrutinize your face, nose scrunched in interest.

You only stare ahead at the tail of Levi’s horse.

“How much further until we set up camp, Captain?” Gunther calls from the back of the diamond.

“A few kilometers,” Levi supplies. “We’ll tend to the horses and set up a watch rotation for the night.”

“Calling dibs on second!” Oluo shouts to your left.

Petra’s head whips to the side, her arm raising to signal the rest of the group. “Another three-meter on my side! Want James to take it, Captain?”

She must see it. She must notice how you’re itching to get into the action, to prove your worth on the team.

You stare ahead, blinking up to the undercut disappearing and reappearing from the whip of raven-black hair.

Mentally, you try to form a psychic link.

Let me, you beg. Let me show everyone that I’m not a waste of space. Let me show you that I’m still me, whoever she is.

Levi takes a moment to think about it before speaking.

“Gunther, take it down.”

You deflate, your fists loosening on the reigns of your horse.

You could do it — break formation and ignite your ODM gear — but that runs the risk of slamming into Petra if she doesn’t duck.

The diamond has, quite literally, trapped you in.

Gunther doesn’t hesitate to act. With the sharp whiz of his ODM wires, the man abandons his horse at the back of the formation. His blades extend from their rectangular sheaths.

Within minutes, the titan goes down with a wail.

To not run into any abnormal titans so far is only a blessing — but the nearing forest, dense with tree trunks and overgrown bushels of leaves, is anything but.

You don’t need to remember how this goes to know the forest is a death trap.

Still, the tall trunks will provide ample vantage point for the nearing evening.

Levi holds a fist up at the mouth of the clearing, causing all horses to cease. Their puffs of exhaustion mix with the serene ambience of chirping birds and singing crickets.

It’s hard to forget how easily a titan can sneak in for a meal here.

“Set up a shelter and start a fire,” Levi orders, hopping off of his black stallion to turn towards the group. His eyes connect with every squad member — everyone but you. “We’ll stay here for the night and push on in the morning.”

“Captain,” you blurt, the intrusive thought hitting your tongue well before you can stop it.

Levi continues his air of boredom, but his eyes belatedly glance towards you. “What is it, Lieutenant?”

Your eyes connect.

Your stomach churns with transparent butterflies.

“Since everyone else spent the day taking down titans, I volunteer first watch,” you state.

“Denied,” Levi answers.

Your eyes widen a fraction of an inch. “What?”

“I always take the first watch.”

Like you’re supposed to know that already. Your body flushes with embarrassment.

“But I—”

“Actually, Captain, the time that’s spent with the rest of us resting could benefit James’ understanding of the mission,” Petra chirps as she dismounts her horse, rubbing at her stiff wrists. “I think James has been eager to help. And if she’s taking first watch with you, then we know she’s in good hands.”

You whip your attention towards her, shocked she spoke up at all.

The men grunt with approval of the redhead’s offer, stretching their limbs to relieve some of the long ride’s aches.

Captain Levi’s expression darkens, but he doesn’t say anything.

Petra doesn’t look your way, not when she’s already turned six shades paler with worry that she overstepped with Levi. Instead she pretends to look around at the nature surrounding the group.

She disappears into the middle of the group, decidedly fussing over the makeshift fire Oluo has started with dry twigs and other nearby supplies.

Had she meant to do that? Question Levi's comfort? It doesn’t seem like it.

Either way, you’re now trapped with two very real facts:

One, you’re taking the first watch of your first real expedition.

And two, you’re doing so with Levi, who cannot back out without arousing suspicion.

A wire whizzes above your head.

With that, Levi Ackerman disappears from view into the tall, tall trees.

You rearrange your cloak, mindful of how heavy the blade sheaths are at your hips, before igniting your ODM gear to follow. Wind whips against your face, cool and crisp.

From up here, you can see everything: the vast field leading back to Wall Rose, the dilapidated buildings of a civilization that once was, the life that found a way where titans cannot reach.

It would be peaceful if you were up here alone, but you’re not.

Levi is already crouched by the time you reach the highest branch. Beneath your feet is a massive expanse of flat wood, likely hundreds of years old.

The heels of your boot click when you float down onto its surface.

The captain says nothing.

For a few agonizing minutes, it stays that way. Birds chirp. Fireflies float. Cloaks billow.

This is going to be the longest watch of your life.

Sitting down on the flat trunk-like branch, you run your tongue against the seam of your lips.

You shouldn’t—

You can’t—

But you do.

“Y'know, we have to talk eventually.”

Your voice, echoing gently at this high altitude, surprises even yourself. A part of you wishes you could take it back, to keep your mouth shut, but another part?

Another part knows the entire expedition can’t last like this.

Captain Levi stands from his casual kneel. “No, we don’t.”

You sigh with exhaustion, but it isn’t from the grueling ride out to the forest. “I didn’t act out my memory maliciously, Levi.”

“At the moment, you will address me as Captain.”

Your eyes connect with the gray of his. His voice is hollow.

“Seriously?” you mumble.

His brow quirks. “Am I laughing?”

This? This is fucking ridiculous.

Rising to stand, you brush off rogue specs of leaf from your uniform. 

“Look, I don’t know what’s gotten you so freaked out, but I thought you would enjoy the surprise, Captain.” You dislike how angry you sound, but you are — angry. Mad, that he won’t speak to you clearly about the situation. “As far as I could tell, it was a happy memory for me.”

“A happy memory or not, it wasn’t appropriate,” Levi snaps. “Sneak-attacking what you remember and what you don’t doesn’t—”

“It wasn’t a sneak attack!” you protest in a yelp.

“It is.” He argues. “It was. Because I need to know how to act accordingly around you—”

“Captain—”

“—and being launched into what used to be doesn’t help.”

Into what used to be.

How to act accordingly around you.

A larger bird than the blue jays in the area coos overhead — possibly an owl, hooting as the night takes over the sky.

The tension can be cut with a knife as Levi stares at you, and you stare back. You try fitting the puzzle pieces together without saying a word.

Why does he have to act a certain way around you?

Does this have to do with what happened on the supply building roof at headquarters?

“Captain,” you slowly start, choosing to remain civil. Respectful. “I apologize — for catching you off guard, for not fully understanding the gravity of the situation. I recognize that you and I have history, whatever that might really be.”

There.

History — recognition flickers in his gaze.

Commander Erwin’s words come flooding back to the forefront of your memory:

I had anticipated this… situation to be a bit of a shock to him.

The spars. The special treatment. The way he sat with you on that roof.

You remember looking up at Commander Erwin with surprise when he asked if Levi had visited you during your recovery within Trost Headquarters; the way he appeared surprised when you told him that Levi never once showed; the moment he made you question everything.

We returned two weeks ago from the expedition. I assumed he would have at least attempted once.

You were surveying the cadet training, sir, you told him.

I was, Commander Erwin confirmed, but he wasn’t.

Then where the hell was Levi, if not with Erwin?

“You’re taking the second watch,” Levi decides with an abruptness that catches you completely off guard. “Ask Eld to cover you.”

His words are a cold splash of water to the face. “Wait, are you serious?” Levi is expressionless. “No. No, Captain, I am not leaving.”

There is a hint of anger in his clipped question.

“Are you disobeying direct orders?”

“That wasn’t a direct order, sir,” you reply. “You never ordered me. You only told me. There’s a distinct difference.”

His eyes narrow. “Don’t be a smartass.”

Except the murmur is a thinly-veiled threat and nothing more.

Somehow you’re confident enough about it that you take a few steps into the wide gap between you.

“You said you wouldn’t shut me out,” you urge softly, hoping to spark his own memory in your panic. “I made a mistake and I am sorry for it, but—”

“No, shithead, what I said is that you need to leave.”

You frown. “But why? Why can’t we talk?”

“Disobeying orders and questioning your superior. Are you trying to rack up all possible offenses in one night?”

“You are not my superior, Levi. Not technically. Captain, Lieutenant, it’s all arbitrary bullshit Erwin made up.” Your eyes squint to narrow slits as your frustration climbs. He doesn’t correct you when you sneer at his first name. “I am trying to understand why you became so freaked out over a silly move I pulled when we were teenagers—”

“Enough.”

“—and why saying some silly phrase like dirty trick is such a big deal to you so I don’t make the same mistake again in the future!” you continue. “Because if I missed something? Because if that moment of us in the Underground is linked to something bad that I’m not remembering, since it feels pretty good to me when I say it—”

“I said enough,” Levi barks.

Something ignites in you to step forward, teeth bared.

“Don’t talk down to me like a fucking cadet, Levi.”

A flinch of muscle is all you need to see to know that Levi is as surprised as you to hear the acidic swear on the tip of your tongue — both brows move north from their neutral position, and suddenly the air feels thick.

“Is that not what you are?” he challenges, low and dangerous as he mirrors your step forward. “Because last I checked, you were barely a Scout anymore. You were just some dumbass with a fucked up memory.”

The insult stings its intended target.

You wince, but hold your ground.

“Now you’re saying shit to hurt me because you’re scared.”

“I’m not.”

“Levi, you’re being mean,” you murmur. “You hate not having control. I get that. I hate not having control over my own head, but you don’t get to be an asshole so you can feel better about a fucked-up situation.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I do, and I’m tired of you pretending I don’t. Hiding away from me doesn’t protect me.”

You trudge closer towards your captain, but he bridges the gap for you: one step of his boot and he’s eye-to-eye with you, here, in the middle of this clearing.

The green flecks in the gray of his eyes bring some sickening softness to your belly, quelling a fraction of the fire within. It reminds you of summertime and darkness. A dichotomy of things you once loved — and things that once scared you.

Levi stares head on, seemingly disinterested in your psychological assessment.

Yet when your eyes drop to his arms, you see the most obvious tell of all: his fists are pale, fingers gripped in white-knuckled balls of restraint.

So you ask the first question that comes to mind, throwing caution to the wind:

“Are you afraid I’m gonna actually die this time?”

By the sound of his breath hitching in his throat, it’s safe to assume your question has caught Humanity’s Strongest off guard. 

Painfully earnest, your words are woven in a confusion threatening to choke the life out of you.

And Levi — Levi is four shades of enraged, glaring straight through you.

“I don’t give a shit if you live,” Levi corrects with a snarl.

“You don’t?”

“No.”

“Then allow me to keep the first watch,” you reason. “And second. And third, because if you don’t give a shit, then who cares, right? I'll be tired. Maybe a titan will take me out so you can stop having to deal with my insufferable ass.”

“No.”

Your chin tilts. “But you said you don’t—”

“Why do you want to die so fucking bad?” he shouts, his spit hitting your cheek. “Why bother coming back to me if all you wanted to do was throw away your second chance?”

He realizes a second too late what he’s said —

— what he’s done.

For a man who’s spent the better half of the hour telling you he isn’t scared, that he doesn’t care, Levi Ackerman looks absolutely terrified as he stands speechless in the aftermath of his own wrongdoing. 

For minutes neither of you move. Neither of you look away.

Something dark brews behind Levi’s stormy eyes as you watch with unshakeable shock.

What can you say to go back twenty seconds?

The damage has already been done.

You both know it.

Your stomach sinks in sickening foresight.

“Forget it,” he dismisses.

No.

“Levi.”

He’s turning.

“Levi.”

You don’t know why you reach out, but your hands claw at his sleeve to stop him. He continues to turn.

Desperation takes your hand from his shoulder to his face, and quickly your palm paws at his cheek to pull him back.

He presses hard against your palm, fighting its hold, but you manage to bring his face close to yours in a rushed exhale.

Levi breathes heavily through his nose, nostrils flared and eyes downcast.

"James." It's hardly a murmur.

“Don’t,” you beg under your breath. “Don’t shut me out.”

What are you doing?

What are you doing?

He remains locked in place, all his limbs taut. He doesn’t, however, fling you from his body.

You keep his face caged between your hands.

“You said you wouldn’t shut me out.”

“James—”

His voice is different. Huskier.

Is that a plea?

You shake your head wildly, overcome with fright.

“Don’t shut me out,” you croak once more. “Please don’t leave and shut me out.”

The angle of Levi’s face serpentines from where he was running to come back to you.

Your faces collide, nose to nose.

His hot breath spans across your face in shaken puffs.

"Don't leave and shut me out," you repeat, voice cracking.

His head shakes, causing his nose to nuzzle yours.

“Won’t—”

“Please don’t leave me,” you repeat on the verge of crying.

His voice drops to a whisper, a prayer.

“Never—”

“Don’t leav—”

Your lips close, pressed together by something soft and warm. The sound dies muffled.

As if held hostage by your own body, you tense when a pair of warm hands encircle your head, pulling you closer to a softness in contrast of your desperation.

You blink once and see it.

Levi’s eyes are screwed shut, brows painfully knit together, as his lips move against yours. A boot shuffles, angling the scent of his sweat to engulf you.

Instinctively your fingertips curl around his head, digging into his cheeks when you kiss back with profound starvation.

Spurred by your actions, a ragged exhale causes his lips press harder. The thumbs against your face run absently along your skin, as if to quell the anxiety plaguing your mind.

You pull him impossibly closer, matching the intensity of the kisses.

As if you're drowning.

As if it's been forever.

The tip of his tongue flicks against your lower lip. Wordlessly it requests consent, and your lips part eagerly to comply. He takes the opportunity and runs with it as his tongue seeks yours for salvation, gliding with practiced ease.

Inadvertently you whimper from the contact.

The sound is enough to yank him clear from your ironclad grip, dragging your nails across his face.

Gray eyes meet yours with a swirl of emotion — awe, uncertainty, dread — with lips pinker than before.

Your hands remain in the air from where you had him.

Red streaks line the sides of his face like hastily-drawn whiskers.

All you can do is stare.

Levi Ackerman has never looked so vulnerable.

“I order you,” he finally says, voice wrecked, “to tell Eld to accompany me for the first watch.”

You finally breathe, hands dropping unceremoniously to your sides.

"Yes, sir," you obey on autopilot.

He doesn’t need to say it twice.

You spin on a heel.

Your ODM gear ignites back to life.

.

author note: ...remember when i said i had a scene written for forever? tehee.

tag list: @lazylizzy3 @notgoodforlife @sad-darksoul @dailydoseof-love @maliakealoha @nube55 @kateastrophies @blinkingsuns @gomigami

[bluedalahorse]

a love letter of sorts

I have such a soft squishy place in my heart for the secondary Hillerska students. It can feel tempting (and even safe) to believe that each of them will never change, that they will become their parents, that they will send their own kids to Hillerska where those kids will repeat the same mistakes. But we are told in season 2 that the enrollment numbers are dropping. At the end of season 3, the school may fight to keep its doors open and it may or may not succeed. And our characters will keep growing up and encountering the world. I choose to believe that everyone we’ve gotten to know has had some kind of seed planted, that there is at least one future where they break with the patterns of their youth, and the values they were raised with.

Let me read the story about Vincent learning to spot and overcome his internalized ableism and understand that a school that graduated him without meeting his individual learning needs wasn’t actually supporting him. Tell me about how Nils comes out to his family and it goes surprisingly okay, but things get tricky when he decides he wants to run a different sort of company, with different sorts of business practices, than his father does. Show me Stella and Fredrika’s blissful summer of first love, followed by a devastating breakup, followed by the slow and silly and scary rebuild of their friendship, until they’re those amicable lesbian exes, you know the ones, we all know the ones. Or what about when Maddie starts to recognize (and then has to question) the more performative and culturally appropriative aspects of her witchcraft, and tries to do things better? What would it look like for her to move from radical slogans and aesthetic toward true liberation work?

I say this not out of naive optimism but out of the love I feel for these fictional characters I spent time with over the past few years, and out of my love for a good story. I don’t see why I should have to shut the door on these Hillerska kids and forget about them and divest from their progress. I love a good character arc. I love an imperfect, not always linear journey that begins from a deeply flawed starting place and ends up somewhere wholly different.

Each of these characters is the beginning of a story, and therefore a gift.

[tropes-and-tales-archives]

More Precious Than Rubies: Part 3b

This is an alternate timeline story that has a Rafael Barba track and a Sonny Carisi track. The two paths split off in part 3.

WC: 2771

TW: Angst; end of relationship drama.

AN: The prompt was "I Made a Mistake"

When the jury read their verdict of “not guilty” on all counts, you breathed a sigh of relief and then tended to your client, who collapsed against you in broken sobs.  You got him collected, then you both went out and made a brief statement to the assembled press.  You shook Jeremy’s hand and wished him well, and then you stood a moment in the weak April sunlight.

You descended the steps of the courthouse slowly, one at a time, and thought about what you should do. 

It was late in the day – you could go back to your airless little utility closet of an office and wrap up you paperwork on the case.  Or you could start making your way towards home.  Most of the cops and ADAs went to celebrate or commiserate at Forlini’s, but two blocks up was a charming little Spanish wine bar that most tourists walked right past.  It was right near your subway stop – you could go finish your paperwork there.

You had been a good student in high school and undergraduate, and you’d been top of the class in law school.  The sole subject you struggled in had been math and calculus, so it was fortunate that law didn’t require much higher math beyond calculating what consecutive sentences would add up to.

If you had been good at higher math, you’d know what an inflection point was – a moment when a curve changes from being concave to convex, or vice versa.  Life was full of inflection points – when the path a person could take is changed or decided on.  Most times, the person in question had no idea how their little choices affected the larger arc of their life. 

Take the subway or walk.  Eat the street meat or the leftovers you packed from home.  Go to Fordham law or Columbia law.

Turn right, towards your office.  Or turn left towards home.

Today, you turned right.

-----

Sonny would have claimed that he was finally over you, but when you strode into the precinct, as a public defender, no less – he knew that’d be a lie.  All of his hard work to accept that you were gone fell away.  He had been frozen on the spot as you gave him a curt nod and then tossed Rollins and Fin out of the interrogation room.  A moment later, you marched your client out, and you tilted your head in that defiant way that Sonny recognized instantly.  It was adorable…until one realized that it meant you were digging your heels in and spoiling for a fight.  Not that you’d ever done it with him – he’d only seen it when you argued with classmates at Fordham over tricky legal precedents and controversial cases. 

Maybe if you had argued with Sonny more, he’d still be with you.  You’d bitten back all of your frustrations with him until they grew too big, and you’d left him as a result.

Sonny could barely focus on the case that was falling apart for Barba.  He couldn’t tear his eyes from you:  when you gave your opening, when you questioned witnesses, when you sat at your table with your client, your head bent over your notes and the slim column of your neck rising out of your polished grey suit.

And when the verdict came back as not guilty, Sonny couldn’t help but smile at your own smile of triumph.

He wanted to stick around and congratulate you, but Rollins tugged on his arm and pulled him out of the courthouse with the rest of the squad towards Forlini’s, where they’d drink and console each other and pretend that they hadn’t handed the ADA a completely flawed case.

Sonny paused outside of the door to the restaurant though.  Rollins looked at him questioningly.

“I’m gonna go for a walk,” he said.  “Clear my head.”  Before she could argue, he turned and walked away with a wave.

It wasn’t technically a lie.  He was going for a walk, and if it led him to your office, then that was just a coincidence. 

Sonny had shown remarkable restraint throughout the entire case.  He’d only spoken to you twice:  once to remark on the rainy weather that day, and once to remark on the sunny weather on another day. 

It was another sunny day.  He could always stop in and tell you so, maybe congratulate you on your case.  And if that went well, maybe beg you for a chance to really talk.

-----

You gave yourself a quick five minutes to enjoy your win, and then you settled into your desk to address the stack of files that threatened to topple over.

You were interrupted every so often.  Your admin assistant stopped in three times to offer you coffee.  Your boss stopped in to congratulate you.  A few other public defenders drifted past your door.  The nicer ones just said “good job.”  An older one, jaded and bitter, said he was glad that you “stuck it to Barba.”  This made you frown – you weren’t trying to stick it to anyone.  You just wanted people to get a fair trial.

You wrapped up the paperwork from the Michaels case and slid it to one side.  You looked over the stack of open cases you had and decided to work on the simple assault one.  You might be able to plead it out and avoid a trial.

You were deep in the situation of the case (two drunk men, brawling in the street, one ending up with a broken arm, the other unharmed and charged with assault in the third degree) when there was a knock in your doorway.  You looked up with a smile, expecting another public defender, but it was Sonny.

It felt like the air was pulled out of the room.  You tried to keep your face expressionless, but a million emotions roiled through you:  anger at how things had ended, and guilt too.  And a lingering bit of love for him.  You had held yourself together through the trial, being polite and professional around him.  You even managed to exchange small talk about the weather, and you only glared at Amanda when her back was turned to you.

It didn’t help that he was wearing a blue suit that made him look absolutely delicious.  In the year since you’d seen him last, he had only aged like a fine wine.  The bit of grey at his temples made him look even more handsome, and he’d finally figured out how to style his hair. 

Standing in your doorway, he looked nervous.  His hand fidgeted at his side, and he ducked his head in that adorable Sonny way he had when he was feeling uncertain.

“Hey,” you said.

“Hey,” he replied.  He fidgeted for a moment and stared at the floor, then looked up at you.  “Congratulations on your win today.”

You shrugged.  People kept praising you, but the case had fallen apart on its own.  You had just nudged it along.  “Thanks,” you said simply.  After a beat, you gestured to the seat in front of your desk for him to sit, and he did gratefully.

“It’s a nice day,” he finally offered.  “Sunny, nice breeze.”

You glanced around your windowless office – it was little more than a glorified storage closet, so cramped that Sonny’s knees were jammed against the edge of your desk.  “It’s hard to tell from in here,” you joked. 

He smiled at this.  “You should go out and enjoy it,” he said.  “Knock off a little early.”

“Maybe.”  You tapped the stack of files on your desk.  “These aren’t going anywhere.”

You could feel your desk moving, almost unnoticeable.  Sonny was obviously bouncing his leg in nervous tension.  “If you want, maybe we could go grab a bite?  My treat?”  When you didn’t answer right away, words started tumbling out of his mouth, about how it wasn’t like that and he was going to go eat anyway…

“Okay,” you said.  Truth be told, you felt a complex guilt about how you had ended thinks with Sonny over a year ago.  True, he had basically ghosted you throughout the last few months of your entire relationship, leaving you to sit alone at restaurants and bars and once, alone in your apartment during your anniversary with a home-cooked meal that got cold and new lingerie that went unseen. 

It didn’t excuse your own behavior though.  You could still access those old feelings of jealousy towards Amanda, the feeling of not being good enough for Sonny.  But your anger had also cooled down into a sort of gloomy acceptance.  What remained was the guilt:  you’d cut Sonny out completely, blocking his number and deleting his emails.  You never explained your position and let him guess it himself.  And you’d heard from mutual acquaintances that he had been pretty torn up about the whole thing.

Which didn’t mean you forgave him.  It just meant that the bad feelings were tempered a bit, and you had to work with him anyway, so establishing a professional relationship would help.

But Sonny smiled so brightly when you agreed to grab a bite with him, you couldn’t help but smile back at him as you gathered up your stuff and walked out of your building together.

********

Sonny’s first instinct was to lay his hand on your back to lead you to the elevator, but he caught himself just in time.  He also did it again, as the two of you went to a nearby El Salvadorian restaurant.  He wanted so badly to touch you.  It wasn’t even a sexual thing, though he’d not turn that down if hell happened to freeze over and you offered it. 

He just missed the intimacy of casual touching.  When you were comfortable with someone, you touched them – hugs, grasped hands, shoulder taps, ruffled hair.  With Sonny, you always had your hands on him.  You’d work out the tension in his shoulders with your deceptively strong fingers.  You’d run your hands through his hair.  You’d hold his hand when you walked somewhere.

It had been well over a year, and he’d been on a few dates, but the last person to really touch him in a comforting way had been you – when you’d been making out on his couch, and he had pushed you away to call Amanda.  The memory made him wince as you both made your way to a two-top near the back of the restaurant.

You were obviously a regular here – the waiter recognized you as he brought you water and chatted with you a moment, and you never touched the menu in front of you.  Sonny took up his own, struggling to understand the pictures and Spanish dishes.  He glanced up and saw your mouth twisted into a smirk.

“Go with the pupusas or tamales.  When it comes to meat stuffed into corn tortillas, you can’t beat a Salvadorean,” you said. 

“You order for me,” he said with a smile.  “You know what I like.”

You placed your orders with the waiter, who dashed off to the back.  “They don’t do cannoli, sadly.”

Sonny pretended to act offended.  “I eat all sorts of foods.”

The two of you chatted amicably.  You each discussed your final classes at Fordham, he asked about your internship, you asked about SVU.  You compared bar exam experiences and the nearly unbearable stress of waiting for the results. 

You asked about his family, and he told you about Bella and Tommy and how they were expecting their first baby.  He asked about your own family, but you shrugged and said they were fine, even though that’s what you always said.  Sonny had never met your family, and you hardly ever mentioned them.  He had never pressed it, just assuming that you weren’t close with them.

The waiter came back with your food, laying down a ridiculous number of platters that covered the table top.  You explained what each thing was, and then you both tucked in with relish. 

Sonny watched you as you both ate.  You looked just the same, only more polished.  Your hair swept up and back instead down, your makeup subtle.  The sharp suit, the jacket hung over the back of your chair, revealing a sleeveless blouse underneath and your lightly muscled arms.

“I appreciate you meeting with me,” he said between bites.  “I know things…didn’t end the best between us.”

You slowed your own chewing to look up at him, and he couldn’t read the expression in your eyes.  You swallowed your bite then daubed at your mouth with your napkin before taking a sip of water.

“No,” you said.  “Things didn’t end great.”

“I wish…” he started, but stopped to think about how to phrase it.  “I made a mistake.  I should have done better.”  He didn’t mention that you could have given him a chance to fix it before dumping him unceremoniously and then refusing all communication from him.

“I didn’t handle it well myself,” you conceded after looking at him for a long moment.  “I just held it all in until it boiled over.”

“So why, then?” he asked.  It felt like opening an old wound.  Painful, but necessary for it to heal properly. 

You snorted.  “Why did I break up with you?  Sonny, you were never around.”  You took another sip of water, and he noticed the faint tremor in your hand.  “I didn’t handle the breakup the best, but how else was I supposed to do it?  Schedule an appointment with you that you’d only break because Amanda was having a bad day and needed a shoulder to cry on?”

“Are you implying that I cheated on you?” he asked, stung at the insinuation.

“No,” you replied carefully.  “Not physically.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You sighed.  “Sonny, even when you were around, you weren’t with me.  You were always texting Amanda, calling her, talking about her.  Even when we were literally making out, you pushed me away to call her.  Emotionally cheating can hurt just as much as physical.”

“She’s my partner.”

You nodded at him, your eyes sad.  “She is.  More than I ever was.”

“That’s not fair,” he said, and he let some of his anger bubble to the surface.  “She needed – needs me.  Her life isn’t as easy as yours.”

At this, Sonny watched as your face changed, like a door slamming shut.  Your eyes narrowed and you pressed your lips together in a hard, thin line, as if you were physically holding back words.  Then you balled up your napkin and tossed it onto your empty plate.  You reached into your purse to pull out your wallet, and when Sonny tried to stop you, you shook off his hand angrily.  You tossed down a couple of bills and turned to nod at the waiter, then stood up.  The chair scraped along the floor, and you threw your jacket over your arm.

“You know fuck-all about my life, Sonny,” and if your thunderous expression wasn’t enough, your casual use of the eff word told him all he needed to know about how mad you were.  You never swore.

“Maybe you should have shared that with me,” he snapped, unable to stop himself.

“When?” you said, and your voice was low and steady.  “When did I have a chance to share my life with you?”  You gave a bitter bark of laughter.  “You couldn’t even show up for our anniversary dinner, Sonny.  You expect me to believe you’d have been there for the bad stuff when you couldn’t even bother with the good?”

That anniversary.  As long as Sonny lived, he’d never forgive himself for missing it.  It was the beginning of the end, really – you who could barely cook had spent an entire day fussing over cookbooks, pulling together an amazing meal that he ate as leftovers in the days that followed.  He hated to think about you sitting and waiting for him…while he was at Forlini’s with Amanda, nursing a beer as she pounded them back, making sure she got home safely. 

In his mind as he imagined it, you had blown out the candles you’d lit for dinner at about the same time he eased Amanda’s shoes off after laying her in her bed.

You took a few steps toward the door, then paused.  “Tell your partner to get her shit together,” you said.  “Because while I really enjoyed tearing her apart on the stand with this case, I do prefer a challenge.”

Then you walked out, your heels clicking on the tiled floor, leaving Sonny behind.  Again.

[scifimedic]

Episode 3 of SciFiMedic Explains: How do I write severe burns?

Original prompt submitted by anon.

“What about a character with a badly infected (burn-like) wound?  How long could they survive without medicine?  What are the most likely complications (systemically)?”

Right off the bat… I can say this isn’t looking good. This poor bastard is going to cut it close.

Due to the wording of your question, I can guess that your character will eventually have access to modern medical supplies like antibiotics and vasopressors. Therefore, in your case, I think you can push this all the way to sepsis without death of your character.

Let’s make a worst-case-scenario timeline that results in death. 

Day 1: Injury happens. You mentioned a burn, those are going to get infected quick. Depending on the size of the burn as well, it’s very easy for the patient to get dehydrated and hypothermic. You’ll need to cover that burn with plastic after cooling it with chilled water for a minimum of fifteen minutes, longer if possible. If you have to use something like river water, then the infection is going to go faster. Let’s say, for the sake of the scenario, you had to use filthy mud water. 

Night 1: Shock sets in. I assume we don’t have any IV supplies, but if you do start one for fluids and pain medications. If the burn is second degree, they’ll be in agony. If it’s third degree, it will be eerily painless (all the pain receptors got burned off.) They’re going to be cold, shaking, and have a fast thready pulse and low blood pressure.

A 2nd degree burn will make the skin look puffy and bright red, with many blisters covering the area. It can also look a little like it’s peeling, or have some white patchy spots.  A 3rd degree burn will look “better” because the skin tends to look a little more normal. The tissue will be stiff, and look like leather. The ones I’ve seen look like their skin has been carved out of wax- smooth, glossy, and very pale.

Day 2: Infection takes hold. You know the drill, redness, swelling, pain, pus. Try to rinse it with clean water if you can. Depending on their condition now- are they healthy? Fighting any other infections? Cold? Exhausted? They may be able to compensate for another day unaided. Their fever will soar, and the wound will start to form red streaks. 

Night 2: If your character has any of the above mentioned conditions, this is the end of the road for them. By now, the infection has hit the blood stream, and they’re going into septic shock which looks like: 

Rapid heartbeat

Very low blood pressure

Fever

Confusion

Once sepsis takes ahold of their system, death is imminent in the next hour or so, even as soon as 15-30 minutes. 

Day 3: If your character is healthy and compensating well, they get oneish more day, but I would expect them to die during the night on either day 3 or early day 4, also from sepsis. 

Now, let’s say you’re cutting it close. You’re waiting until just the last minute for rescue to be possible. For your weakened character, that will be somewhere in the late evening of Day 2. The infection has spread, but hasn’t gone septic yet. Sepsis is tricky to treat in the field, it requires a lot of careful monitoring that may not be available. 

For your healthy character, you can push it out to early morning of Day 3. 

This timeline is based on a few burn patient’s I’ve worked with in a clinical setting, and their stays in the ICU. 

Disclaimer: Although I’m in school to become a medical professional, I’m not one yet. Please don’t sue. All mistakes are mine, and I’m always open to discussion, hope this helps Anon!

[hrefna-the-raven]

Knowhere

Masterlist

Words: 848

Summary: The Guardians of the Galaxy search for spare parts on Knowhere to fix the Milano, when a series of weird events unfolds and Peter meets someone else from Earth.

The Guardians of the Galaxy were on a stroll through the bustling streets of Knowhere when they suddenly saw a pair of grumpy looking Ravagers strolling towards them. Peter, or rather Star-Lord as he proudly proclaimed, was leading the group in search for Cosmo. One of the Ravagers, a big brutish looking fellow with a shriveled face and a long strain of black hair at the top of his scarred skull, shoved Peter to the side, making everyone stop in their tracks.

"Ey earthling, are you the Star Born?", the Ravager grumbled, his eyes fixed on Peter's face as he snarled.

Peter was taken aback by the question, his pride scratched at the thought of one of Yondu's man miscalling him, Yondu's former favourite, but he quickly regained his composure. He had been a part of the Ravagers for many years, and it would come in handy, knowing how to handle tricky situations with morons like this. With a flick of his wrist, he pushed the Ravager's hand away and straightened his deep red leather jacket.

"Star Lord!", he huffed, "I thought you guys would at least know my name!"

“The boss told us it's a woman, you idiot!”, the other Ravager yelled and signaled his companion to move along, both of them trotting away, their heads hung low in annoyance.

The Guardians of the Galaxy were left standing there, looking at each other in confused amusement. Gamora was the first to speak up.

"What just happened? How could they mistake you, oh great Star Lord, for someone else?", she giggled mockingly.

Peter shrugged his shoulders, rolling his eyes. He knew she was just teasing him but a small part of him deep down still felt hurt.

"I have no idea. Maybe he's been living under a rock or something." Rocket interjected, "I wouldn't be surprised if they were all living under a rock. These Ravagers don't seem to know much about anything. I mean look at Quill", he guffawed, not even trying to hide his amusement at the sight Peter's grievously offended expression.

"Perhaps they were testing their knowledge of the names of the Guardians of the Galaxy.", Drax chimed in, “it is always remarkable to test your skills and knowledge alike as a warrior.”

Peter rolled his eyes.

"Testing their knowledge? Really Drax? Besides, everyone should know I'm the Star Lord. Guys we saved this galaxy, why does know one remember our names?”, he threw his arms up, looking at the others.

“I am Groot”, the tree spoke, glancing at Rocket.

“Groot says “talk for yourself, everyone knows my name”, the racoon crossed his arms, winking.

“I bet that is not what Groot said!”, Peter almost yelled, wondering how that little trash panda always managed his way crawling under his skin as soon as he opened his trap.

The group laughed as they continued their journey through Knowhere, leaving the Ravagers behind them. But as they walked, Peter couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if he had answered differently. Who was this Star Born that the Ravager was talking about, and why was he mistaken for him? Could it truly be someone else from earth. And they mentioned a...woman. Peter shuddered at the thought that a possibly good looking woman from earth might be walking around on the same spot in the endless universe as him in this very moment. He didn't know anything about her, not even if she's even real but he would definitely try and find her, and may it only to find someone who'd finally understand his references.

“Pyotr Quill, also named Star Lord,” a rough voice with a heavy Russian accent popped up in his mind as a golden retriever in an old Soviet spacesuit ran towards them, “Cosmo heard Star Lord thinking to Continuum Cortex”, he panted, wiggling his tail happily, “and Cosmo heard pesky raccoon's thought about broken ship.”

“Hey Cosmo, yeah sorry we jus-”

“No need to speak Pyotr Quill, Cosmo can read mind. Follow Cosmo, he knows where you can get spare parts for ship”, the dog interrupted Peter, turning around and ran off down the street.

Quill had seen his fair share of weird things in the galaxy, but a telepathically talking dog from the Soviet Union that could read minds was something else entirely. Despite coming from the same planet, the dog had little understanding of Peter's references but he liked him anyway. The friendly mutt spread warm feeling of home and kindled fond memories of his childhood, a rare occurrence here far out in the depths of space. Without any hesitation, Cosmo led them to a shabby metal hut three blocks away, well hidden behind one of the last corners of an empty street. The Guardians followed the talking dog, trying to keep up with his fast pace.

"Tell mechanic that Cosmo sent you and don't break anything.", the dog gnarled at Peter before disappearing around the next corner.

But as they entered the hut, they were greeted by the sight of dozens of machines whirring and buzzing away while some oddly familiar yet unknown tunes echoed from what looked suspiciously like an old earth radio.

Chapter 2

[noodyl-blasstal]

please... b f h u ? thank you 💕

Ooooh, thank you so much for these!

B: Any of your stories inspired by personal experience? In a shocking turn of events... yes! Generally, a lot of my fics have themes of misunderstandings around dating (e.g. Scamming Me; Scamming you; Moonlight to Sunrise; I PHDo). I have been on so many accidental dates because people just aren't explicitly clear about what they mean when they say stuff like "let's go for a drink" because how on earth is anyone supposed to actually know that's somehow "let's go and get a drink and talk about whether we should get married."

Conference Buddies bears a homage to some of the terrible packed lunches I've had (shout out to the place that decided to combine every single dietary requirement into one horrifying lunch.)

Astrology for Horse Jugglers was a mix of silly ideas and some of the times I've met people who yes anded their way into my heart. Once I was with someone who met an old friend of theirs who was also with someone else. During their conversation we constructed a story so beautiful, so elaborate, that my friend was convinced we also knew each other.

Ten Years Ago Today is about long-term grief and the way it can hit you. Old wounds can feel pretty fresh, even when you think they're healed over.

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

So this is something I'm currently working on. I enjoy this so much because I think it sets up a lot of dynamic and it's fun to play with a one sided conversation like this.

“Mags! Hey! Quick question… cool, oh, yeah, another new puppy? That’s great, when do we get to meet th…” Taako’s going to kill her, he’s going to kill her dead and no jury could convict. He settles for nudging her gently with his elbow instead because he’d miss her eventually. “... sorry Mags, actually, I have to be quick, you know how <i>some people</i> can be… Yes, I will, Magnus says hi.” Taako’s going to eat them both. “Uh huh, look, it’s about the library books, was there one which they didn’t take? … Oh, uh huh, you, you told him he must have made a mistake and that he needed to take it? … and… uh huh… uh huh…  then refused to take it back… uh huh… and after that you just left… even when he shouted at you to come back? … uh huh… Magnus! ….uh huh, yeah, gods… fine. Gotta go, love you bye.” Lup hangs up the phone and looks solemnly at Taako. “So, I have some news.”

H: How would you describe your style? I'm not sure I have a good answer for this. "Silly" is probably my overwhelming descriptor. The stories are usually daft and I usually pour a little bit too much of my heart into them.

U: Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much. Ooooh, okay. So. This is tricky because there's so many great people!

@ceilingfan5 of course, I ploughed through your Ao3 back cataogue when I started reading TAZ and it was banger after banger. I love your brain noodles, love the way you embody the characters, and the way your wording is so creative and fun. Your style's just super engaging and lovely and your stories are delightful.

@holdmecloser-gandydancer also has so many great fics. I think about Say it with Flours, The Only One On Your A.M. Radio, A Baggage Claim Candlenights, Rode Hard And Put Away Wet, and some of the works in progress so often.

@mmmarty (spot the theme here) also has so many wonderful fics. Have I seen pacific rim? No. Did I love No Such Thing As Cold (Only The Absence of Heat)? Absolutely. I also think of Magic Club and By The Book often.

But that's not counting @barry-j-blupjeans (endless amazing one shots), @liltaz-asatreat (so many thoughtful, emotionally impactful fics), @taakosleftshoe (aquarium AU!), @jerreeeeeee (incredible world building), Tanacetum (my phone broke mid of faeries and fungus and I was so upset and tracked it down so fast to zoom through the rest), and of course Weevilo707 (also endless great fics).

There's definitely lots of other people I've forgotten too, but I've got a brain like a sieve.

[urban-witch101]

Hey! So um if you remember I made a request on your Danganronpa Thh ghost au if you could do sdra2 ghost au headcanons. If your still busy that's ok but if you forgot this is kinda like a reminder (Sorry of this sounds rude 😭)

Oh my goodness. I'm so sorry! I completely forgot. Also I got multiple requests for this and that is a foreign concept to me, I'm patting myself on the back for a job well done for the first one I guess.

I want to clarify - this one will be a little different than the other one. This will also be the last one of these I do until I play the third game. This isn't an x-reader. This is also going to be tricky considering the canon lore, so I'm kind of twisting it around instead of just throwing it all out completely. Have fun y'all.

- Danganronpa 2 Ghost AU - "They're Trapped."

Hi! Spoilers ahead. Also, just a big fat trigger warning in general.

When Makoto Naegi set out, against direct orders, to create the Neo World Program, he had good intentions. Rehabilitate the kids, even the questionable ones, to their original state. What he didn't expect were the files to get a little...weird. It didn't seem dangerous. At least, it wasn't until it was already too late.

The worst part is that Makoto would be rewarded with this transgression, this mistake. He outright refused to give the Hope Foundation the program, but when they took it by force, they realized why he hid it.

They were there. They weren't alive anymore, but that doesn't mean a whole lot in a fictional world made of binary coding. This is what they found.

Hajime Hinata is the only one that will greet you upon entering the Neo World Program.

When you first open your eyes on the beach, you'll see clear blue skies for miles, an ocean that looks and sounds just like the real deal, and a bundle of broken code flashing by the trees.

He's had the most sightings of all the students. If you're lucky, he'll even ask for your name.

If he's not there when you first wake up, then check the hotel. He can be seen walking around the cabins, hesitating on certain ones and letting his finger glaze over the mailboxes with their names on them.

His little friend is different. Much different.

9/10.

Izuru Kamukura is the same body with an incomplete personality.

He can be seen by the Ancient Ruins, pacing up and down the halls.

Sometimes he'll ignore you. Sometimes he's snippy and aggressive. He doesn't hurt anyone though, not anymore.

Many of us think that spirits don't want to ask us questions when in reality they just don't have that kind of energy to give anymore.

The Neo World Program flipped that logic on its head.

There was only one person that Kamukura actually talked to, and he asked him all kinds of questions. Who he was. What he was doing there.

Their meeting was solemn, but honest. He was quiet after that.

7/10, a mixed bag.

Gundham Tanaka pops from place to place, but the two main spots you'll find him are the Ranch and Strawberry House.

He's always alone, and he likes keeping it that way.

No animals have reported being around him - no animal noises in the glitches, or any mention of them in his code. Not even his hamsters.

At the Ranch, there are reports of the cows "brushing themselves". Bits of code surround the brush, as if he's specifically keeping the rest of himself hidden. These sightings are common though.

If all else fails, he wants you to know that the animals are taken care of.

There is one report. An anonymous employee went into Strawberry House and found his code in the Tower. They used a device mimicking a spirit box and could hear the constant click of his shoes.

Pacing in circles, and an occasional whistle of an unfamiliar tune. 10/10, harmless and is actually pretty helpful all things considered.

Peko Pekoyama has never been seen once, but it's known that she stays in the Beach House.

When they approached the building, they thought someone was already inside due to the footprints in the sand going in the door. The Beach House was completely empty.

She'll play the flashlight game. She's unresponsive to the spirit box.

The employee decided to wait until the night cycle kicked in, turned out the lights, and sat in the main room quietly.

They didn't hear much, but they did enjoy the quiet. Listening to the wind chimes and the ocean helped them meditate and stay calm in a time that a regular ghost hunter would be depressed about the lack of evidence collected.

After they were done they gave an audible warning before packing up to go, figuring that they weren't getting anything.

It turns out that the Beach House is the only place in the island that gives you a sense of peace. It wasn't programmed to give this atmosphere.

10/10, super chill.

Ibuki Mioda...has not changed at all. She bounces from place to place, but her sightings are mostly in the music venue.

You name it, it has happened in this building.

Equipment turning on by itself, speakers blasting scrambled rock music, something falling from the rafters in the ceiling, etc, etc, etc.

She does everything. She loves the flashlight game. The spirit box became redundant when they figured out that whenever it was in the music venue it would blast rock music. She's spoken through Ouijia Boards with specific messages. She even talks about executions and murders that she's witnessed.

Do you think a ghost could effectively haunt a music venue better? No, you don't. It's Ibuki Mioda.

8/10, somehow the loudest ghost ever.

Teruteru Hanamura is in the kitchen in the old building. There's no record of him ever moving from the old building at all, much less leaving the kitchen.

He's pretty quiet - unless you're a woman.

He reacts to men, but they've never gotten a response on the spirit box with them. He'll turn lights on and off and knock things over.

If you're a woman, there's not more physical activity but he will definitely talk.

He loves to talk. He answers every question that he can. He talks about his mother and her diner, the terror he felt from being stuck on this island with no rhyme or reason, his regret of killing the Imposter instead of Nagito.

He has absolutely no idea who he really is.

His code proves it. Could you imagine the Hope Foundation's reaction to Naegi's and Alter Ego's code actually working?

When asked if he'd ever leave the kitchen, he refused.

"I can't face them...not after what I did."

9/10, very helpful but prepare for emotional damage.

Sonia Nevermind is in the library on the second island.

They weren't able to get her on any devices. Nothing happens when people are in the room.

One of the employees got the idea to leave a camera and a tape recorder rolling there while they explored the rest of the island.

When they came back the tape recorder had been turned off and the camera had been glitched to stop recording about ten minutes in.

In those ten minutes, there was an orb accompanied with code glitches passing through the top corner of the frame. The tape recorder had been recording for two minutes, and all the heard was the sound of someone breathing.

That same employee spent the night in the library alone and they decided to bring a film camera so nothing could be corrupted.

They woke up multiple times throughout the night to sounds of books dropping, a girl crying, and what sounded like mice squeaking. These were later reported as hamster sounds.

The film camera had been set on a timer to go off every hour and take a picture. Only two pictures had something off - one had a dark shadow in the corner and the other was a picture of a mangled wall of binary code. It was translated later.

"Let us out."

8/10, spooky as shit but now we know where the hamsters went.

Akane Owari was last seen by Chandler Beach.

According to many employees, Akane tends to wander. She's never been seen in the same spot twice.

Many have tried to lure her out by coding smells of food to appear, but to no avail. She knows it's not real - she can't eat anymore.

Once she was caught on the spirit box in the hotel restaurant. It picked up sounds of chewing along with weird grunts of frustration. Another time she was in the beach house, making the window in the shower room rattle.

There's not a lot to note about her. She tends to keep to herself and avoids the Hope Foundation employees at all costs.

The only really significant finding happened in the hospital, in her old sick room. Sometimes the lights flicker, and the IV's will start to operate and show a heartbeat despite not being hooked up to a person. An employee was able to quietly play the flashlight game with her, asking simple questions about her and her life.

5/10, quiet but not very helpful.

The Imposter is still in the old building.

They're similar to Akane in the sense of not really interacting all that much, tending to stick to themself and haunt the old building alongside Teruteru.

The few times they did get them to interact were...interesting, to say the least.

They don't seem bothered by the fact that their murderer is literally a room away. "He did what he had to do." Fair enough.

One employee brought a knife to the building - all of their technology went wild; the tape recorder only got bits and pieces of loud static that wasn't there in real time, their flashlights went out, the spirit box wouldn't even turn on, etc. One of the cameras actually burst into flames.

That employee ended up throwing the knife out the door. Everything calmed down almost immediately.

6/10, whatever the fuck you do, don't bring a weapon.

Hiyoko Saionji is consistently found in the hotel restaurant.

She's occasionally been heard at the music venue as well, but the restaurant is her go-to.

She doesn't like the spirit box, but she loves the flashlight game. She will play that puppy all night.

When asked why she stays here of all places, the flashlights go quiet before they start flashing in a pattern.

It seems that she has an affinity for morse code.

"It's where big sis is."

One of the flashlights rolled over to a specific spot in the restaurant, by one of the walls. Right by where Mahiru's shrine used to be.

8/10, harmless but big ow.

Kazuichi Soda hasn't been seen by anyone. But he has been heard.

It is nearly impossible to track this motherfucker down.

They looked everywhere - the airport, the military base, the plushie factory, everywhere that they could think of.

It wasn't until an employee mentioned that he was close friends with Hajime that they got an idea. They set up some equipment with sensors around the hotel and waited.

When they looked at the footage later, there seemed to be more than one student there. They even overheard bits of a conversation on the spirit box:

"How's...oking today?"

"Nice and quie...ople seem to be comin...more and...though."

"...isn't...urprise. They seem to...help."

"...hat a joke."

10/10, quiet and looking out for the others.

Nekomaru Nidai has been seen twice - once in Strawberry House, and once by Chandler Beach.

Large flashes of code were seen in the tower elevator by the spot where he died by two witnesses. They tried to set out equipment to recreate this phenomenon, but it never happened again.

He likes the flashlight game. He hates the spirit box.

Funny enough, it seems like he can't recall a lot of his time as Mechumaru. He remembers taking the blast for Akane, and his last battle with Gundham. That's it.

The other time by the beach was also an accident, but there wasn't one flash of code - there were two.

The witness swears that it was Nekomaru and Akane, but they didn't hear anything. It seems that they were both simply enjoying each other's company for a while before going back to being restless spirits.

8/10, a little helpful but otherwise stays out of the way.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu can be found around the Beach House, but his most frequented spot is the diner.

Surprisingly enough, he's very interactive with the employees of the Hope Foundation. He uses the spirit box, he plays the flashlight game, etc.

He's even been seen in both code form and on an infrared sensor. He's had full conversations through the spirit box.

There was only one time he wasn't present, and when the employee assigned to him went looking, they felt drawn to the Beach House.

The power had been cut a long time ago, but they could still hear the faint sound of music while inside, along with some wind chimes. That sense of peace from before seemed amplified, growing into a feeling of joy.

When they turned on the spirit box, they could hear a whispering conversation between a male and a female with occasional laughter.

For one night a year, on the day Peko Pekoyama died, they're together again. 10/10.

Mahiru Koizumi is...everywhere?

She didn't get to see the rest of the islands like her classmates.

You know she's there when you hear a camera click and you're not actively taking photos. Sometimes she turns on the spirit equipment, effectively draining the batteries before they even start setting up.

She doesn't talk on the spirit box, but she'll do anything that's quiet. Dowsing rods, the flashlight game, etc.

She's picky about talking to guys, but gals and nonbinary pals? She's game.

When an employee mentioned Hiyoko Saionji, it got really quiet.

"Turn on the flashlight if you miss her."

Click.

9/10, minus one for ow factor.

Nagito Komaeda haunts the Ancient Ruins alongside Kamukura.

There's one rule; don't turn off the lights. Nobody has had the guts to try to break it.

Every room in that "school" has had something happen in it. Chairs have been thrown against the walls, tables knocked over, to try and break the coding he's trapped in.

Glass vases have been shattered, anything that's been on a table had been knocked over before, etc. There have been instances of an employee hearing the breaking of a glass vase that they put somewhere, going to check on it, and finding it completely intact, still on the table they left it on.

The employees that try to stay there for a full twenty-four hours never complete it. The longest completed run was sixteen hours.

The plan was simple; get there at ten AM, collect as much evidence as possible while taking shifts on sleeping, and leave at the same time the next day. The daytime was pretty mellow, with the occasional bang and crash recorded and not much else.

Once nighttime hit, it was a whole other ball game.

The two decided to stay in one of the classrooms with a lamp on, the overhead lights off, and the door closed. Screeches and cackling echoed off the walls, followed by intense sobbing. The employee that was asleep woke up from the feeling of choking, which was then confirmed by the bruises left behind around his throat. They wanted to stay, but, when the bulb in their lamp exploded, they decided against it.

1/10, fuck you and your temper tantrum.

Mikan Tsumiki floats around the third island, but she's seen the most at the Hospital.

An unnerving energy has since filled the building, with many if not all of the employees refusing to go inside.

If you're lucky, you'll see her from the corner of your eye. That's the most she's ever let herself be seen.

Sometimes the lights flicker without cause. The windows rattle and the glass cracks, as if someone tried to punch it.

Crying can be heard throughout the building at night. Sometimes there are screams. If you turn on the spirit box though, it gets interesting.

If you listen very closely, you can hear her whispers and rambling. She talks to herself.

She'll mutter medical knowledge, dates and times, names that were important to her - a little bit of everything.

She won't answer any direct questions, only Yes and No. She likes the Ouija board. One time an employee asked about Hiyoko and the planchet flew across the room.

5/10, do not interact if you are Hiyoko. Just don't.

Chiaki Nanami is nowhere and everywhere all at once.

Bits of her code fly around all of the islands, as if searching for something.

As an AI that was created to protect the students, she is the program. A memory that all of them had, and one that all of them wanted to see again.

If there's a direct Hope Foundation representative present, she will not interact. However, she seems to enjoy the company of the regular employees; maybe she relates to them more.

She likes big, open spaces; don't try to talk to her in a tight space, like a closet, because you'll get nothing.

Her favorite is the Ovilus box, since she can directly speak through it without too much effort.

Her physical form has only been seen once.

On one of the early mornings where an employee was out completing the night shift, the run began to rise where the waves crashed against each other before settling to the sandy shores of the beach. When they looked over to admire the view of the albeit-fake sunrise, two figures shielded by shadow caught their eye.

They claimed it looked as if a girl was there, waiting, when a boy came and scooped her up into a big hug. It was later confirmed that the descriptions matched Chiaki Nanami and Hajime Hinata.

10/10, she's finally home.

I hope you all enjoyed this, it was so hard to make! Thank you for your patience :)

[coco-bean-1218]

8 for Grant and Claire!

Hi! Thank you for the ask!!

I must admit, this one was tricky and it's my first time doing prompts, so these aren't the best. This will probably break all the rules of grammar low-key.

8. Subsequent

*Spoiler/sneak peek alert!

---

Subsequent to the stunt she just pulled, Claire found herself alone in the middle of the field. Dog company quickly moved out and was long gone by now. Smoke from guns and shellings was starting to clear away. She stood bent over with her hands on her knees, her shallow breaths now starting to sound like wheezes. She felt dizzy and nauseous. Her legs were shaking and felt like they were going to give out from under her. Her chest ached and her heart was beating a mile a minute. Her lungs and throat burned. Each time she took a breath, it felt like she was suffocating. Despite her physical pain, she wondered how she managed to pull that off.

Claire rose to her feet and began her lengthy trek across the field where she had last seen Easy. She hoped that they hadn't left yet, despite knowing that she would eventually have to confront Captain Winters. As soon as she took a step, a sharp pain shot through her foot.

"Son of a bitch!"

Claire winced and looked down to check for blood. She carefully removed her boot and inspected her foot. It was definitely sprained enough to cause discomfort and hinder her mobility. Gritting her teeth, she pulled out a bandage from her pocket and wrapped it tightly around her foot, hoping to alleviate some of the pain.

With each step, the pain persisted, but Claire pushed through. The field seemed to stretch on endlessly, with no sign of Easy in sight. The weight of her actions hung heavy on her shoulders as she trudged forward. She knew she had taken a risk, defying orders and putting herself in danger. But her determination to make a difference had overshadowed any fear or doubt at that moment.

As she continued her arduous journey, flashes of what had happened just a few moments ago played in her mind like a haunting film reel. The chaos, the explosions, the camaraderie among her fellow soldiers. It was a mix of fear and adrenaline that fueled her actions, allowing her to accomplish the unthinkable. But now, as the dust settled and the reality of her situation sank in, she couldn't help but question whether it was all worth it.

She stretched her back, and a sharp pain shot through her shoulder. She strained her neck to inspect the area and spotted a small hole in her shirt, an equal-sized gash, and blood pooling down her arm.

"You know this seemed like a great idea at first, but now not so much," she thought to herself.

Minutes passed, and exhaustion began to take its toll on Claire. Every step felt heavier than the last, and her injured foot throbbed with each movement. Doubt crept into her mind, that she may have made a grave mistake. But she pushed those thoughts aside, knowing that she had to face the consequences of her choices.

---

Finally, Claire spotted the familiar silhouette of Easy Company in the distance. Relief washed over her, but it was short-lived. The thought of confronting Captain Winters loomed over her, and she braced herself for the inevitable reprimand and punishment that awaited her.

With a heavy heart and aching body, Claire approached the area, her footsteps slow and deliberate. She knew that she couldn't run away from her actions, no matter how difficult the consequences might be.

Getting lost in her own thoughts, Claire failed to notice Grant walking towards her.

He had a look on his face that Claire had never seen before. A terrified one, one of despair.

---

That was so much fun!

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Is it possible for a mortal to attain godhood like in Greek mythology? Like they do legendary deeds to attain the rank of a deity as a reward for their service

(Sorry for the delayed response! Had to think long and hard to figure out how to answer this in the AU so I hope this answers your question!)

This is a little bit of a tricky thing to answer. Yes, it is possible, but there are certain conditions that must be met before any mortal can even think of attempting deity status.

One important factor but not necessarily a be-all end-all is to either have deity blood from a parent or an ancestor, or possess a strong soul. The reason I say this is that it’s like how hereditary traits in humans, animals, and even plants function: the offspring may have a 50/50 chance of inheriting traits from both parents, though it’s also still possible that the child may receive a dormant gene from a grandparent or even a distant relative.

For example: both parents have brown eyes and brown hair, but the child is born with red hair and blue eyes because one of their grandparents had red hair and blue eyes. This is the same concept in the deity!AU, but with deity family members! The child may have a chance to develop godly or mystical abilities (aka super strength, empathy, etc) yet they have common features, or they may inherit the unusual physical traits (such as cyan/white hair or scarlet eyes or even deity tattoos) but be born with no deity abilities or senses whatsoever…or maybe delayed development of abilities and powers. 

The combinations in this AU are effectively limitless!

Now that’s the biology part of this topic. The second part boils down to their spirit–aka, the mortal’s soul. The very actions or nature of the mortal’s soul must align with the virtues of the Divine Seven, where they will be judged or deemed worthy of the role of a new deity. But who makes this call?

Why, the Dark Mirror itself, of course! If it were given to the current deities, we would have a lot more chaos and an imbalance in the world. Ó.Ò

In early times, mortals were given an opportunity to earn a spot in the pantheons via four tournaments occurring during the four seasons: the elaborate and elegant “Fairy Gala” in the Spring, the “Golden Aegis” tournament in the Summer (aka: Beans Day and the Golden Lyre; there had been some mistranslations by scholars studying the ancient stories and mistaking a certain shield for the main object surrounded by monsters instead of the lyre), a “Magift” tournament in the Fall, and Kelkkarotu in the Winter.

Each tournament lasts for a day each, yet the training leading up to it can be long and grueling and can be enough to deter the weak-hearted from continuing on. During the time before each event, each deity or pantheon head may choose a champion to sponsor and offer aid, tools, or even enchanted items to give them a boosted chance of success.

It’s totally not because each deity made bets to see who wins and is hoping to get their chosen champion into their pantheon. No siree! It totally is.

So, you might think that those who were born with mystic deity abilities would be the obvious choices to become a true deity. So why should normal mortals try if it’s going to be a slam dunk for the walking battery pack of magic, right?

WRONG!!!!

In the end, it boils down to character (though skill can have an effect). Sure, some of the previous winners may have been chosen because of their abilities during these tournaments, but it boils down to the determination and willpower to sway the decision of the Dark Mirror. Deuce is a perfect example, actually!

Born to a mortal mother and a deity father (who is out of the picture; no one knows what happened to him), Deuce sought to become a deity to save his mother and fought with all his might and determination to succeed in each tournament. While he was born with some aspects from his father (hair, eyes, and the spade mark on his face), Deuce wasn’t born with powers like some of the others were–yet he was determined to keep fighting even against one fellow half-deity who flaunted his abilities.

Of course, while he did barely make it through each event, he managed to stick through it all to the end…and discovered one final challenge that lay ahead of him. Before potential future deities can stand before the Dark Mirror, the remaining participants must face each other in battle during the Summer Solstice. Those left standing in the arena before the moon began to move away from the sun would be able to move before the Dark Mirror to receive judgment.

Aaaaaand because I was typing all this, I got inspired to write an entire fic exploring Deuce’s journey to become a deity, and now I must write it. A couple of friends I told this idea to have proclaimed that Deuce is essentially Hercules and I am for it~! UvU (Of course, he doesn’t get Pegasus like Hercules since he will obtain wings of his own as a true deity!)

[louisisalarrie]

Harry has peace’d out on saying anything to fans on social. He will never call anyone out. Not if his life depended on it. Last thing he or his team even commented on was spit gate. He thinks he’s the royal family - never complain never explain. He won’t venture onto social media anytime in the near future because he doesn’t want to face the backlash that people would give him - not that he would see it anyway. He’s too insulated now. He doesn’t care if his fans fight it out on social as long as they keep buying his music and tickets to his shows. Doesn’t care that people are literally laughing at the TR farce and the fact that the media licks his boots every time he shows his face. Why would he? TPWK Harry is long gone from our world and we as fans need to accept the Harry-shaped hologram we get now and Do I sound bitter?

Hey anon! Thanks for the message!

Yes you do sound bitter, but I can understand the frustration and know exactly where it’s coming from. Your feelings are valid.

The important thing I would like you to take away from this is that Harry’s team have advised him not to say anything that would risk him losing popularity. It’s exactly why all big artists don’t speak up about political issues 99% of the time (except this is a much smaller issue that should be addressed before more fans start leaving) and it’s because if they’re just seen as a pretty little celebrity that doesn’t say anything, then they’re not upsetting anyone. Managers and PR teams advise this all the time. Don’t cause any rifts, don’t divide your fandom, don’t cause a stir by saying something you believe in. It just is what it is. Say nothing, so people can believe what they think you believe in, and don’t have to see the truth and disagree with you. His team have always had this ideology, and the fan divide is no exception.

Stay quiet, pretty, straight, and politically neutral so you can keep all your fans no matter what they believe in. It’s a mistake they made by addressing Larry, and they don’t wanna do it again. It prompts interview questions, articles, and media that can affect Harry’s career. I can assure you that his silence is because he’s frustrated and his team don’t want him to say anything.

I fully can understand that me saying “his team is doing this, his team is doing that etc.” can be frustrating because he should have more control over what he wants to say and share with his fans, but i say it because it truly is the case. And yes, we can hold him accountable to fight this nonsense, but a lot of it isn’t his decision, and a lot of it he has been taught to believe.

“If you say you’re gay, you’re gonna lose fans who are homophobic”, “if you say you’re gay, you’re unattainable to your straight fans”, “if you tell the fans to settle and TPWK, they’re gonna think you’re saying they’re bad fans and cause more drama”, “if you speak up for what you believe in, those who disagree with you won’t support you, and your career will be in jeopardy” etc.

Anyway, yeah. He’s a good guy, just stuck in a tricky spot right now. But, as I said before, something’s gotta give. And it’s gonna end explosively.

[drdemonprince]

How do you make a decision? How does one know if they are making or being co-dependent or something else? I was diagnosed with ocd awhile ago and although my therapist was legit great, I really liked her, it really still seems like I’m flailing around sometimes. I have no idea how to make a decision on my own. I’ve been working on unmasking for awhile but I can’t tell if I’m falling back into bad habits when coming to my partner about wanting to move out of this city (I hate it here, never really have it chance but I miss home, my partner would not move though so we would probably break up). They aren’t really unsupportive though, they get it, they also just don’t want me to leave, I guess.

I just miss home so bad. I don’t know if going back would really fix anything though, I’ve had an aimless yearning for so long and I don’t really want to get trapped back in the weird/bad relationship I have with my mom but I miss my siblings so bad. It probably wouldn’t be so bad if they could keep up relationships long-distance but they are terrible at it. Trying to maintain those from my side is exhausting. I would at least see them around if I were home.

this is 90% rambling, my real question is: how do you know when you are making a decision that aligns with your values vs when you are doing things to placate other people? And how do you know when you are making mistakes?? i’m sure this is simple to answer

There is no "mistake" in the sense that there is no objective right or wrong answer to any of this, and no one lives your life but you.

You're in a tricky spot here with a lot of imperfect outcomes and imperfect people that you want to be near but who don't always show up for you. It sounds like none of them are great at being supportive to you, to be honest. It's very understandable especially with younger siblings, but I wouldn't count on any of these existing relationships to be enough to feel good for you from the sound of it. No wonder you feel torn and dissatisfied with your options. You need more than what the people in your life have to give.

I wonder if inventing and slowly creating new options than these might be better. Meeting new people, trying new things, building new networks of support. Maybe you need to go back to family to have the landing base necessary to do that kind of really tough tiring (but ultimately worthwhile) stuff. Maybe where you currently live is better for branching out and you'll find new people to befriend and to date there that can be present for you more. I don't know.

And there is no objective answer for what is best for you. There are some lessons I think we can learn only for ourselves, from our own experience and experimentation, because every one of us and our circumstances are so unique. You know this shit is not working, and that you have a fallback option that also has clear drawbacks of its own, and that's actually a very solid start. Keep drawing out that decision tree and trying things. Some will suck. That is data.

I don't think worrying about which decision is like the most values pure or anti codependent or whatever is worth stressing, the universe will not be grading you on that. What helps you feel excited and cared for right now? What's missing? What times and situations have made you feel okay with yourself, and what made those moments special? Follow those things. It'll be a mess figuring it out. That's a life.

[dreamerwriternstargazer]

Spent most of my study hour writing the longest email ever to my tutor listing all the questions and problems I had on my EMA, no there was nothing related to my actual topic nothing inherently tricky about my argument just…. Citing sources man.

Typically I would just figure all this stuff out myself but I’m gunning for 100% I want no silly small mistakes and I’m not gonna do my usual “yeah I’m pretty sure this is right” nonsense when the guy’s right there for me to annoy.

I now have half an hour left to finish reading through my sources, noting down the key quotes to support my argument and writing my second plan draft. There will be a minimum of 3 plans, no my last assignment did not count that was performative

3 plans is the golden number, ideally it should be 2 but I’m an idiot and forgot to finish my visual analysis and include it in plan 2.

Plan 1 - roughest ideas, takes 5 minutes, you need to just get your argument down on paper so you don’t forget it, as well as writing down questions you want to answer in your argument. My question (among others) is how is femininity presented in both of these portraits and does it conform or challenge societal expectations of the time? This is separate from the question I’m being asked, this is my interpretation and focus. You make this plan to check whether your argument is valid, whether point A and B line up to conclusion C, whether it’s true is… I mean it’s Art History it’s 50% supposition, but it’s as true as evidence allows

Plan 2 - incorporate sources as the supporting pillars to your argument, see if it holds up with the sources, and add in your analysis points too, organised clearly. This plan is your roadmap as you write the essay so that you’re not constantly trying to recall the stuff that seemed so obvious before

I think we have this idea of essay writing where a person should be able to bang out a great essay on the spot, and yes on some level you should have a foundation level skill of being able to write an essay. However for the long term when it comes to assignments, it is way smarter to build yourself a roadmap and then write your essay. This way, you’ve managed to break up 80% of the work for yourself over several days without having to write and rewrite the same essay trying to comprehend your argument as well as the media in the abstract. If you need to improvise then that’s great go for it, but at least you won’t forget your original ideas.

[disillusionedjudge]

For headcanons meme - what is Gylfie like in a romantic relationship? How would her relationship with Thor impact her main arc / storyline?

—–

send me questions you have about my character! 

((Gylfie is absolutely soft in a relationship, heh. I mean, to be fair, she does have a soft spot in general, and is rather compassionate and caring when she wants to be to those she loves, either romantically or platonically. It’s not something seen often, just given the nature of her career, and the fact she has to be careful with who sees that side of her. But, with a ship, she’s 100% soft with them for sure, and wouldn’t shy away from showing it. She wouldn’t... be big on PDA, I think, because she is an incredibly private person and, again, she had to be careful with how she presented herself given her station, so she’d be protective of any relationship she has. Her love would be obvious, and she’d say it often and always genuinely. She remembers important dates and events, and the little things about her partner. She’s fiercely loyal to them, and is incredibly attentive... when she remembers to be, ahah.

So... okay. I’m just gonna use Myriel as an example real quick. Gylfie had been attentive to her, and could easily tell whenever something was off. But when she joined the military and became more hellbent on taking her place as Judge Magister (which, an important thing to note: during that time, she arrogantly believed was her birthright and responsibility of being the eldest Ynarra, though Drace had knocked that out of her head once she took her under her wing, which would’ve been a bit too late for Gylfie regarding her relationship with Myriel.), she... got sidetracked. She still paid attention to Myriel and would still spend time with her, but it wasn’t... enough. Not like it had been. She spent more time training when she wasn’t sent off to fight or put on guard duty. It was almost like Myriel became a second thought, and... that’s what became the beginning of the end for them. Myriel did her best to explain that to Gylfie, who misunderstood her, and while the two didn’t end on horrible terms or end up fighting, they just... couldn’t rekindle that flame they had. Myriel was tired of waiting for her and being second to Gylfie’s career, and Gylfie had, unintentionally, decided her ambition was more important than her relationship, even though she still wanted to marry her. She, of course, realized too late she fucked that up completely, and does still regret it, even though she has since moved on from Myriel.

With that said, Gylfie would be incredibly careful not to let that happen again. She realized she fucked up, but... of course, she really ended up repressing herself and forgoing the idea of having a relationship altogether instead of finding a work/life balance, ahah. She completely threw herself into her career and let her ambition take the lead, and decided she didn’t have time to be in a relationship with someone new. That she didn’t want one, really, even though... yeah, she did want that. But, that aside, if she were to get into a relationship, she wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. She might make other mistakes, because no one’s perfect, but she would be far more careful with making sure she paid full attention to her partner, and make it clear how much she loves them. Of course, there will be times she has to put her station before her partner (after all, as Judge and, later, Judge Magister, she deals heavily with politics and protecting the Emperor, whether it be Gramis or Larsa, and does take charge of the trade and commerce bureau in place of her father. So she’s going to be busy and get bogged down more often than not), but she will do her best to make up for it later, and to spend whatever free time she does get with them.

Now, with Thor... hmm. It depends on when her relationship with Thor starts. If it’s during the events of ffxii, it’s... going to be tricky. Again, Gylfie learned from her failings with Myriel, so she’d be careful to avoid making Thor feel unloved or like she’s a second thought, but... it’s going to be hard. It’s an incredibly volatile time with Dalmasca being taken under Archadia’s rule, the threat of the Insurgence/Resistance pushing back, the chaos unfolding within House Solidor and amongst the Judge Magisters... yeah. There’s a lot, and Gylfie needs to be alert and readily available not just to defend Archadia, but to help Drace and Gabranth protect Larsa and to stop Vayne. She can’t be spending as much time as she would like with Thor, and although she would be forward outright with there being a lot happening, she obviously can’t go into details about it all, if only to protect Thor. Not to mention all the stress she’d be under with that, and with the unwanted attention from Vayne, Gylfie’s temper might be a little shorter, but she’s careful never to lash out against the people she loves. She never once let her temper or stress get the better of her when it came to Myriel, as she knew Myriel only wanted to help; she’s careful not to lash out at Drace or Gabranth, although she would vent her frustrations to them; and she’d be careful not to lash out at Thor, either, though I’m sure Thor would realize that Gylfie’s more stressed out and agitated than usual. But Gylfie would spend quite a bit of time away from her, and that could potentially strain their relationship. That would scare Gylfie, of course, because she couldn’t bear to lose her, but she needs to put Archadia first.

If they’re together after the events of ffxii, I think it’d work a little more in their favor. Of course, Gylfie is going to be adjusting to being Judge Magister now, so she’ll be busy with her new duties and responsibilities, on top of making sure Larsa is safe and that it’s not discovered that Basch is posing as Gabranth. But... at least she doesn’t have to worry about Vayne and his shenanigans, or the threat of war against Rozarria and the Insurgence/Resistance looming on the horizon. Though, with Thor there at that point, either with them starting their relationship then or still being together from the start of ffxii, she would be someone Gylfie can turn to for support. She lost both Drace and Gabranth, and is going to be reluctant to let Basch get close, so she’ll need someone to turn to for comfort and support.

Otherwise... I don’t know how being with Thor would really change anything? Gylfie doesn’t really change much if she’s in a relationship, and she’d still be torn between her loyalty to Archadia and her disillusionment for the Empire. If anything, it just might be an added worry for her about finding that balance between her career and Thor, since she doesn’t have a whole lot of time to afford to her.

[thisliminalspacedaydreams]

Fanfic write me asks: 30 and 56 please!!

Hellooooo yes good question good soup let's do it.

This ask game

How much do you edit your fics? Do you edit as you write or wait until you finish the first draft?

A lot. Here’s a snippet of the Alien/plato’s symposium fic currently.

Does this makes sense to you? Because it barely makes sense to me. I now write the entire thing bare bones (the dialogue and cut/dry action, barely formed metaphors), and then I’ll go back chapter by chapter and add the forms.

I think because the scariest part is writing myself into a corner (which I did with Heartless and with Echoes for a hot second, so when I decided to write the entire thing with The Moved On, it worked out in my favor in the end).

I don’t do this with collabs because when you have two brains you can always get yourself out of tricky situations. So with amaranths @aboutnavi and I are 4 chapters in, and we’re just trusting each other to not fuck up. And if we do, we’ll hold council and figure it out. With @greenvlvetcouch and the God Eater, we wrote the entire thing and edited it afterward, so I think what I’m saying is I have ADHD and no plan, just vibes. Depends on the fic, also, I think.

Are there any fics that you would change or rewrite if given the chance?

No. I look at my work and the only one I can say with 100% certainty I wouldn’t change a SINGLE thing is God Eater, I am so proud of that fic and I have no regrets and I loved what we did with it. i love love love it.

Every single other one (I’m talking +10K, not one-shots and other collabs), I see a lot of mistakes and things I would do differently.

But also…the me now wouldn’t be able to write Heartless. The me now wouldn’t be able to rewrite Echoes. I think there are seasons to your life and the things you write follow the mood you’re in at the time? So I can look at them, see their faults, and still appreciate where I was at when I wrote them. And why.

But when I spot a grammar mistake in a chapter on accident, I do cringe and go edit it immediately.

I hope this makes sense??? Basically just do your best.