#but then i get like this. where.. i guess i'm bored

[emotional-fox]

did i ever tell yall that one time i got into a physical fight in elementary school. and it was like, 4th grade so people were physically fighting, but not actually genuinely punching each other and stuff. it just looked like an awkward wrestle for about thirty seconds.

one time i was basically enlisted to fight someone cause i got into an argument with them during class. it was ridiculous, it was over playdoh, but this dude ripped up my playdoh assignment and i drew a picture of him getting stomped on and it was a whole thing, and everyone wanted us to fight Real Bad.

and i'll preface by saying i was a weird kid (and now i'm still weird). like my therian stuff is not a recent thing i was feeling canine back then too. i was the type to look off in the distance at recess imagining being a wolf or walk on all fours underneath tables where i thought people couldn't see me.

so the fight comes around and i don't really know what's happening. also it's not that impressive. it's in a dirty hallway and there's like half our class watching us, and they all look bored cause neither me or this dude are doing anything, we're both just Looking at each other.

and then he lunges towards me, like - faking a punch, i guess. and my dumb 10 year old therian ass went, oh yes, i know what to do in this situation. i get down on the ground and start BARRELING towards him at full speed, on all fours completely uncoordinated. my teeth are bared and hella crooked and i'm making some sort of weird evil guttural noise.

i have never seen someone look that scared in my life.

when i say he took off down the hall i mean took off. i mean started running and looking back like, holy bejeezus what the frick this weird autistic dog not-girl is going to bite my ankles off. the class that's watching is also like, what the heck and they start backing away. and of course one of them freaks and starts screaming for the teacher.

i got lunch detention for 3 days.

[juyeoz]

˙ㅤ۪ 𓂋⠀FOR THE PLOT — AN 02z SMAU

026 ┆i’m sorry (1.0k words)

The time on your phone read 7:00 p.m. which signalled that Arts night had begun 10 minutes ago. You were exhausted from your date yesterday and school today, that you accidentally got swooped into dream land.

Hopefully, Yena’s performance hadn’t passed yet.

You felt terrible in your mother’s car while anxiously checking the time every so often. 

It was 7:15 p.m. when you arrived. Luckily, the ride over wasn’t as long as taking the bus. After thanking your mom, you left the car in haste and rushed over to the entrance. 

One issue was the fact Yena wasn’t there to guide you to the designated room. You had no clue how to get around at Western Academy. Hopefully, there were guides to help you get around.

At the foyer, there was a desk surrounded with people dressed in black as they all conversed with one another. A sign stood beside the table and read the entry fee which was one ticket.

The one ticket you did not have. How were you going to get in?

You backed away from the table and stood against a wall, pulling out your phone in panic. You hoped Yena was able to check her phone at such a time. 

Her messages were spammed with blue ones that were just her name in all caps. There were moments where you included the world ‘help’ but nothing got you a response. 

It was silent on her end.

There was no other way for you to get in at this point. You could have just waited it out until the performances were over. She couldn’t get mad at you for it, right? At least, hopefully she didn’t.

“Hey, are you okay?” A voice called from in front of you. You froze in response, not wanting to look up. What if they kicked you out? Then you would have wasted your mother’s time.

Hesitatingly, you looked up to where the voice came from, but to your luck, you were met with a familiar face—Park Jay.

You sighed softly, the feeling of relief washing over you. Even if your past wasn’t the best, at least it was someone you knew.

“Why are you just standing here?” He added.

“I didn’t want to get kicked out.” You answered, leaving the poor boy confused.

“What?” 

“I don’t have a ticket and Yena wanted me to come watch her performance.” You explained while shoving your phone into your pocket.

“What about you?” You asked, not sure what else you should have said.

“Volunteering. Unfortunately.” He said while pointing at the table behind him. The students were still talking amongst each other, not noticing your presence once.

“It’s quite boring despite it being the first Arts night I’ve attended.” He sighed and looked over at the students. He had no clue how to join their conversation either. 

“Hey, I have an idea.” Jay whispered, leaving you confused and worried. 

Did you really want to see what idea he had planned? Not really.

Suddenly, he took your wrist and walked up the ramp that led to the doors of the auditorium.

“I wonder what they’re performing.” He said once you two passed the table of volunteers, hoping that would deter their attention away from you. 

Luckily, with such little effort, it worked. You were surprised. His stupid plan worked.

You both entered the dark auditorium and he began to look for an empty seat from the top.

“Jay,” you began, gaining a ‘yes’ in response, but he didn’t look over at you.

“Your hand…” You said, hoping he would do something about it. 

It still held onto your wrist with a gentle grip. 

“Right, I'm sorry.” He said and let go, but it wasn’t fast enough to let your arm fall on its own. It was more like a guide.

You mumbled an ‘it’s okay’ while awkwardly slipping your hands into your back pockets as he continued to search.

“Follow me,” he said and you did as you were told.

He brought you to an empty seat with a good view of the stage, leaving you satisfied. You could definitely see Yena at this point.

“The band doesn’t come on until after this performance. I guess you were on time.” Jay said while taking a seat beside you. You hummed in response and watched the performance on stage.

During the showcase, due to the small space and single arm rest between you two, both your arms and hands grazed against each other many times. The atmosphere felt awkward the more it happened. It was obvious you both noticed it too, flinching whenever it happened.

Jay wanted to apologize for the past terribly. The urge was almost eating him whole. However, many thoughts clouded his head stopping him from doing so. Would you even care if he were to apologize? What if you forgot about the past and he had only embarrassed himself in return.

It could either go terribly right or terribly wrong. So, he did it. 

“(Name),” he began, his eyes never leaving the stage. You looked over at him in silence. This was the second time you heard him call your name after six years ever since the bake sale. 

However, this time, he said it with more certainty. He was sure it was you.

“I’m sorry.” 

You were confused by his words. Was he apologizing for the times your hands touched each other? Or was he apologizing for grabbing your wrist without hesitation earlier? 

Which one was it?

“For what?” You asked. You wanted to accept his apology on its own, but you wouldn’t have known what you were forgiving him for.

“The past. From kindergarten to eighth grade and the awkward tension between us throughout the years. I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable and embarrassed in my presence, so I distanced myself from you, creating the said tension.” 

Oh, well, nothing could have prepared you for that.

You were unsure about what to say. You had no clue this was how he felt throughout both elementary and middle school. The only response you could get out wasn’t the best option after all he had said, but it was the only option you had.

“It’s okay, I forgot about it anyways.”

Yeah, you could have definitely done better than that.

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© JUYEOZ

[ashen-char]

life makes love look hard

ship: anora x reader (gender neutral)

summary: reader has a tough day. anora comforts you.

word count: 1700+

notes: requested here and ani x reader won the poll soooo here ya go!

The apartment is a new development in the young couple's lives. Anora had just pawned off the ring, tired of clinging onto the horrific 48 hours it represents. She's moving on with you now. Selling it represented that. Suddenly able to afford a deposit, the two of you had scouted a cozy studio in Manhattan. Closer to HQ so Ani didn't have to take the subway so often, closer to your work too. It made sense.

It's barely decorated. You two haven't had the time to unpack much, just the essentials. Her clothes are in the closet, both of your products lining the vanity and bathroom counters. The rest are still in boxes. No shelves to put them onto yet, just bare white walls that are starting to make you feel claustrophobic. The apartment feels heavier than usual, like the walls are pressing in just a little too much. The air is stale, thick with the kind of silence that makes everything worse instead of better. And your brain is screaming at you - bored but too overwhelmed to do anything. You’ve been sitting in the same spot on the couch for who knows how long, staring at nothing, the day’s weight heavy on your shoulders.

Anora notices you on the couch, staring into space. "Bad day?" Anora asks. She keeps her voice casual. Not meaning to press but she’s already dropping onto the couch next to you, slinging an arm over the backrest like she’s settling in for a long night.

"Yeah. Been... rough," is all you can offer.

You don’t elaborate right away. You know Ani's waiting for more, and that you should get over the hard part and put words to how absolutely sucky this whole day has been, but even the thought of saying more exhausts you. Instead, you stare at the same spot on the floor you’ve been glaring at for the past fifteen minutes. Hoping maybe it’ll swallow you whole. 

Anora lets the silence stretch. She’s good at that - knowing when to push and when to let you breathe. When to tease and make light of things, or when to be serious. But eventually, she exhales, reaches over, and flicks your knee.

"Alright, I'm officially calling it," she announces, "you’re going through it. Bad."

"That obvious?"

She grins. "Yeah, what can I say? I just know you that well, babe." Then she shifts closer, resting her elbow on her knee, eyes locking onto yours with that sharp, focused expression she gets when she’s getting serious. "So, ya gonna tell me what happened, or do I have to fuckin' guess?" Ani jokes.

You hesitate. Which sucks. You take pride in the fact that you two communicate, hell, even over communicate sometimes. Part of you wants to brush it off, to tell her it’s nothing. Don't waste your mental energy on things you can't change, it'll just upset you more. But the words get stuck in your throat. You don't want to brush this off. Don't want to say it's nothing, because that would mean accepting it. That this is the way the world works.

Anora notices. Of course she does. She reaches out, tugs at the sleeve of your sweatshirt - not hard, just enough to ground you. "Hey," she says, softer now. "It's me. I'm here, yeah? No judgement."

She turns her body to face you, one hand cupping your cheek to tilt your head towards her. Her big brown eyes search yours, filled with warmth and worry. Sometimes it's like Anora can sense your distress from a mile away, like it makes her own heart ache. You know that she wants nothing more than to take it away, to fix whatever has you so clearly suffering.

"I know I ain't no therapist, but you don't gotta go through this alone. I'm your girl, remember?" She gives you a little smile, trying to coax one out of you in return, even stroking your cheek. "Seriously. Lay it on me."

So you do. "When I was making breakfast, one of the eggs was rotten so I ruined three eggs - you know how I do that thing where I put crack 'em all into one bowl so I can scramble and salt it evenly. And eggs are so expensive these days," you tell her. The words get easier when you're looking in Ani's eyes. She's just nodding and humming but you feel your shoulders get lighter. Sharing the burden that you were holding alone. "Didn't have time to cook any other breakfast, so I went to work hungry. Stomach rumbled during my presentation today, that was fucking humiliating."

Groaning, you lean forward and hide your face in Ani's neck. She smells like vanilla and that cherry blossom mist deodorant she likes to wear, plus something light and fruity. "No one said anything, but they probably thought I was unprofessional. Bad at time management, at least." With a deep inhale, you try to let the nagging thoughts go.

Saying it out loud makes it sound so insignificant now, and it's kinda embarrassing that you were getting so worked up about it. Logically you know that it's the culmination of all the small things, the feeling that nothing was going right all day, that finally drove you to this brink of turning your brain off. "I sound stupid. Whiny," you whine.

"Hey, hey... don't you dare feel stupid," she chastises lightly. "You're human. Life's a fucking rollercoaster sometimes, yeah? The little things, they can take a real toll. Doesn't make shit less hard if they're small, or silly. They matter to me because you matter to me."

Ani holds you like this for a long moment, letting you hide away from the world in the warmth and softness of her embrace. Her fingers thread through your messy hair, stroking through the strands so you can focus on something else. Her presence has always done wonders for you.

"Okay," she says. "So do you want the ‘life is unfair but you’ll get through it’ pep talk? Or do you want me to threaten someone for you? Because I’ve got some pretty creative ideas."

You snort, and she grins like that was her plan all along. "Seriously," she continues, nudging your foot with hers. "Whatever you need, I got you. Distraction? Done. Validation? Also done. Want me to say something so ridiculous you forget why you’re even upset? Babe, that’s my fuckin' specialtyyy," she drags out.

You shake your head, but the weight in your chest feels a little lighter. "You’re an idiot," you mumble.

"Yeah," she shrugs, "but I’m your idiot." 

She tips your chin up, forcing you to meet her gaze and stop hiding against her chest. After what feels like a minute, Anora leans in, resting her forehead against yours. Her breath is warm on your face as she whispers, "I hate seeing you like this. I hate that you had a shitty day, and I hate that I couldn't be there to make it better." She pulls back a bit to cup your face in her hands, her thumbs brushing over your cheekbones. "But you'll always have me.

Anora shifts, getting more comfortable, but she doesn’t let go of you. Instead, she leans in a little, her voice dropping to something lower, almost conspiratorial. Letting go of that serious shit for a second to let her lovable personality shine through again.

"You know," she says, tapping her fingers against your arm like she’s idly counting down to something, "I was gonna drag you out tonight. Thought about taking you to that 24-hour diner, ordering a pile of fries so obscene the staff would probably talk shit about us in the kitchen. And getting them to top up our coffee over and over of course." She tilts her head. "But you seem more like a ‘stay here and rot’ kind of sad tonight. Am I right?"

You let out a laugh. You do love getting that shitty diner, but staying in sounds best. At least for your mental state. "Yeah." Ani knows you get like this sometimes, and she's never handled it with anything but playful acceptance. You get so tired. Not just physically, but deep in your soul. 

"Cool. Then I’ll rot with you."

She kicks off her boots and you complain about her wearing her shoes inside again. As she placates your huffs, she pulls a blanket over the both of you. Then - because she’s Anora - she grabs the remote and starts flipping through streaming services without even asking what you want to watch.

"Let’s see," she muses, scrolling with the kind of lazy confidence that you love in her. There's never back and forth about what you two want to eat, never any indecision. "Do we go with something so bad it’s good, or something so good it makes you forget life sucks? Oh, or maybe one where other people's lives are so bad it makes you feel grateful for your own life's brand of shittiness?"

You shrug against her. "Don’t care."

"Bold of you to let me decide." She smirks. "I could make you watch some artsy foreign film with no subtitles, just to mess with you."

"You wouldn’t," you say with a glare.

She raises an perfectly plucked eyebrow. "Wouldn’t I?"

You roll your eyes, but you don’t stop her when she finally settles on some home makeover show - one of those absurd ones with a host who never runs out of quips, gaudy design choices, and way in-depth explanations of what they're going to change. It’s exactly the kind of thing that requires zero emotional investment but sucks you in for a binge, which is perfect.

The opening scene plays, bright flashes of the house's 'before shots' lighting up the dim room, but Anora’s attention is half on you, like she’s checking to see if this is working. If you’re still too lost in your own head.

She nudges you again, softer this time. "Hey."

You glance over, and she looks at you with that same mix of teasing and something steadier, something real.

"I’m serious, you know," she says. "You don’t have to deal with anything alone."

The words settle in, warm and steady, sinking past the exhaustion and the heaviness of the day. You don’t know what to say back, so you don’t say anything at all. You just lean against her, let the show play, let the world outside feel far away for a little while.

Eventually, you muster a "thank you."

Anora doesn’t push for more. She tugs the blanket higher over the both of you, and mutters, "like I said. I gotcha. Whatever you need."

[crush-itis]

　 ㅤ. 𓂂 Twisted Wonderland ⊹

general lilia x fem!reader ꒱ fanfic

　 ㅤㅤ ˖ chapter one ׄ ⊹ 𓂃 　

‧₊˚✩ tags： gilf, sfw, fluff, angst, slowburn

‧₊˚✩ word count： 2706

‧₊˚✩ summary： You’re a mix of human, and fae; it sounds otherworldly—extraordinary, however, while your origin may sound like another case of a Mary Sue cliche, the people of both worlds of your kind had casted you aside because of your mongrel background… that was until you met Lilia, your becoming mentor who’ll introduce you to the world of your human blood’s counterpart, and blend in the faes’ society.

‧₊˚✩ a/n： this is so cringe

╭﹒✧┊⁠prologue

┊﹕⊹・⁠ chapter one (← you’re here!)

┊﹕ʚ ・⁠ chapter two

┊﹕⊹・⁠ chapter three

┊﹕ʚ ・⁠ chapter four

┊﹕⊹・⁠ chapter five

╰﹒✧┊end ↑ there is only five chapters because I believe/might get bored of writing it until five chapters 🤍

"Uhm.. I guess I'll choose to be a faerie then." You were so nervous, and intimidated by his angry gaze, you couldn't help twiddling, and fidgeting with the patchy cloth of your coat.

He was so short yet he was sizing you up.

"Perfect. Can't have somebody as scrawny, and weak as you choose to be something even weaker." He glanced at you up, and down—scoffing.

You just frowned in response, the corners of your lips crinkling downward.

"Say, I'm often busy, but occasionally I have days without much on my plate, and it's not like I cannot bring in an apprentice—you look like in dire need in help as well." His gaze softened towards you again.

"Really? You'd help me?" You can't help but be a bit excited.

Yeah, you're that miserable that you'd be willing to seek validation from society, and that you'd also be willing to be a stranger's "apprentice".

You don't even realize how important, powerful, and noble this man is. Heck, you don't even know his name, or any other faerie's name besides your mother.

You mostly grew in the west, where Fleur City is located—the human realm. You tried to remember as much shattered, and lost fragments of blurry memories of how your mother would tell you how you came about in this world.

You sort of remember being cradled in your small, toddler body in her arms.

She'd coo how cute you are whilst telling you a story about how she fled from her hometown—Briar Valley—to be with your father, a commoner human.

It's no wonder you have close to nothing in your name, and yet you also begin to remember how she'd say you're some sort of precious jewel, the hybrid, and the key to peace to the ongoing war between humans, and fae.

You clearly don't believe that since... you're more like a product that led misfortune, and wrath between two groups.

Besides your useless jabber in your mind, spiralling, and woolgathering about how your future will unfold as you being this stranger's "apprentice".

You're not entirely sure if you should trust whatever this guy was saying. Could it really be true that if you just give into the embrace of falling in love with human blood, and tolerating humanity will really make you fully human?

You're not even sure if there was any other generations living out to be some sort of crazy hybrid—a human half faerie.

Your scrutiny is written all over your face that the intimidating stranger had to tug at your shoulder. "The legend is true." He reassured you.

Yeah right... but you can't help but want to believe so. You're so damn desperate to be at least one of them.

You don't even care if you ended up being fully human instead. You just wished to be one damn species.

"My patrol duty is finally off," he muttered under his breath after glancing at his watch. It looked intricate, rich, donned with silver linings.

It's the first time you've seen such a pretty, wealthy-looking accessory.

Noticing your interest into the shimmering item, he glared at you, tutting. Damn. "You're not going to steal it, are you?... Tch." DAMN.

Is this how teachers are usually like to their new pupils?

You merely silenced yourself, too much of a pussy to say anything back to him. "Well, come on." He waved a hand before striding off to the palace.

You don't know where he's leading you to now. "I believe I should teach you the art of the sword. If I engrave the pleasure within brandishing a blade into your pint-sized brain, perhaps you'll fully reclaim your bloodlust for humans." He hummed, and you nodded, trying to keep up with his long strides.

You were practically running after him now.

You two were finally out of the shade, and you could kind of clearly see your new teacher's appearance now. He had armour, the silver plates glimmering under the glistening moon.

"Goodness, you have the stamina of a human toddler. Your humanness must... dominate your fae genes." Your brows furrowed at that.

Wow. Okay, now you can't help but NOT stand around anymore, and just take that.

"At least I—" you were cut off mid sentence when all of a sudden this spiky green-haired male came up, rushing towards your mentor.

"Master Lilia! Master Lilia!" Honestly, you were very thankful for this guy to interrupt.

You literally swore you almost wee-wee'd yourself when he shot that nasty, begrudging, seething, wrathful, bamboozled side eye. Bro.

atp just kill me bro

The green-hair looking guy made his appearance loud, and clear with his armour clanking, practically screeching your eardrums.

While this new man approached, you couldn't deny that he was rather dashing. You even noticed a shimmer on his forehead.

Are those green scales?

Before you could ponder any more, his attention was quickly turned to you, his face suddenly contorting of anger, and disgust—mirroring the way those noble humans would glare daggers at you in the streets.

You breathed a loud inhale, a shaky huff eliciting from your lips from trepidation. Man.

He held that same contempt in his eyes like those people did. Everybody shunned you for being both human, and fae. So what?

Your eyes begin to wield tears, and your sclera's all salty now. Your eyes are downcast, your tears lining your now wet eyelashes.

"What is this—" you winced, ready to take the scolding, and shouting that was bubbling in his throat. That guy was angry.

"She's my apprentice." Lilia swiftly covered his mouth, his palm gripping the man's lips. That looked like it hurt. Green guy huffed, his eyes widening.

"As I said, she's my apprentice." Lilia carefully took his hand off, leaving crescent shapes in its wake, lining the man's lips.

If that's how your teacher shuts up people, you don't mind being silent every day.

"But that's a hu—" "fae. She's fae." Teacher's assertive even when he's shorter than big green guy. "Baul, don't question my choices." Your mentor sighed, and the green guy or rather, Baul, just let out a frustrated tut.

"Take a look." Lilia suddenly opened your jaw once more for Baul, his long nails grazing against your delicate visage.

You flinch, and a string of saliva connected your canines to your lower teeth. Your sharp fangs reflected against the full moon with erupting foggy clouds.

Baul was astonished. There was no way YOU smelt like a human, but possess the vampiric faerie fangs. "Preposterous." Baul's still doubting it.

Little guy finally took his hand off your mouth before grumbling at Baul. "Well, if you're here to waste my time, and bicker with me, doubting the truth, then I will just leave." Lilia huffed, waving a dismissive hand towards you, signalling you to follow after him.

Baul is bamboozled, bro. "Wait! Master Lilia, there's important news I'd like to address you with." He followed next to Lilia, and you just follow the duo behind.

"The Queen has called us, and the nobles for a meeting." Lilia's quick to halt. "Right now?"

You're now sitting on Lilia's plush bed, bouncing on the springy mattress as you glanced around his bedroom. You could hardly process everything what just happened today.

He said he put on some spell on you—concealing your strong human scent with this sparkly invisible barrier or whatever. Apparently full blood fae could smell, and differentiate certain scents between people.

It's no wonder you could still smell that one certain baron who spat on your face when you were eating literal dirt on the ground back in Fleur City—no hate, of course.

Your body felt all tingly, and a bit itchy. You slipped a trembling, cold hand into the back of your shirt, grumbling to yourself as you scratched the itchy spot. You assumed it was the spell's after effects.

You then continued looking around his room, your attention now flicked towards the collection of grand trophies stored in a glass display.

It all has "Lilia Vanrouge" engraved on the golden cups. You also notice the bowl is full of medals in it. Like a winner soup.

Wow, you wondered how much gold stars he has.

Your mind wandered off, and you let yourself lie down on his bed. You're bawling your eyes out now.

You're stressed, scared, excited, and angry all at the same time.

First, you're stressed because you suddenly got the sexiest, daddy alpha, teacher ever.

Second, you're scared because sexy, daddy alpha, teacher is scary, and you're scared that he might whip you to death before you turn into a faerie one day.

Third, you're excited because, dawg, this is your chance to become ordinary, and not the target of malice from the public eye.

Lastly, you're angry because... you kind of wish you were dead so you wouldn't have to deal with all these stressful things.

Wetting Lilia's pillow, time flew, and it was already dawn break. You could practically hear the birds chirp in your dreams.

The emerging sun glowed, and wafted, on your peaceful, softened features. The sun rays peeked through the sheer, white drapes, trailing golden kisses, and caresses onto the soft curve of your neck.

Your lips are agape, snoring softly, and peacefully before suddenly a hand is shaking you awake. "Wake up, mongrel." That deep voice again.

The voice of the man you wish just to swing your fist at his face—just once.

You squirmed, and rubbed your eyes. "You agreed to be my apprentice, no? Certainly you're not already defying your mentor—demanding you to wake up, and start your day off with your first day of training." Yip yap, yippity yap.

You merely grumbled, nodding as you sat up. "You smell like a rotting human corpse, and you slept on my bed without my permission. Is this how you prove yourself to be a worthy, and REAL faerie?" Boi.

You mustered a timid, sheepish apology before standing up. You gently graze a finger on the pillow, checking if it was still wet. It's soaked.

"To be my pupil, you will have to start your day with a neat, productive schedule." You nodded lazily, half listening.

"I always start my mornings with stretching, but since you actually smell like a dog, you're going to take a bath first."

You stepped inside the bathhouse with nothing on but a towel. Everybody was naked, bro. Most of the soldiers here were men, and only a few women were in sight, washing up.

You were ready to kill yourself.

As mentioned previously, you grew up in the human realm, and you always washed outside, but at least in discreet places where there aren't any eyes, and bodies present.

Nobody seemed to care though. They all minded their own business, washing the inner caverns of their buttholes as if it was normal to do it in a big room full of other naked people. (it quite was before)

At least your teacher's here with you... but you're not sure whether to be relieved or even more terrified.

You plop down on the wet, marble floor, nervously taking your towel off. Damn, Lilia does not care five, two shanks about being naked next to you. You furtively glanced at him, noticing his sleeper built.

You didn't notice it before, but whenever he moved a muscle, his biceps.. damn.

You quickly look away before you saw more stuff... You washed, and lathered the shampoo into your hair, hoping the bubbles on your nudity covered you up.

After finishing up washing, you wrapped yourself with the fuzzy towel Lilia lent you earlier. He gave you a pair of brown breeches, a white, frilly, long-sleeved shirt, and a better pair of shoes.

The Fae Queen's chivalrous knights' attire.

You dressed up, your body now clad in clothes more suited for your upcoming training. You were soooo excited, so excited.

Sarcasm.

You find it amazing how not one single faerie besides Lilia noticed the smell of your underlying human genes. He must be really overpowered, and skilled enough to cast a seemingly never ending spell on you.

A wooden sword is wrapped around your palm, half listening to Lilia ramble off on how to hold your weapon, and all that other stuff you couldn't care less about.

Why can't you just suddenly turn into a full alleged faerie? Do you really have to do allat?

You were so annoyed. Everybody here still smelt even after their washing. You just hoped you don't smell like the rest of these people...

Your mind quickly shifted to Lilia calling your name. You heard the irritation in his voice—loud, and clear.

"Y/N."

You gulped, nodding, squaring your shoulders up, and widening your legs. He told you to do something to, like, do a ready stance with your legs spread out a little.

"Perfect. So you were listening?" You let out a sigh of relief.

Thankfully you let your other ear just listen a bit.

Hours passed, and you're still swinging this wooden sword at this dummy. Lilia's gone somewhere, attending to some other noble things while the other squires beside you swung their sword, mirroring your sweaty position.

"Swinging your sword for a thousand times should get you familiarized with your weapon." Was what Lilia said. Your arm felt dislocated, and numb as you swung it one last time.

You don't even realize your form was so bad, your peers started to give you that look—the type of look that screams "do you see yourself right now?"

"What're you looking at?" You muttered under your breath until you realize you're doing the Disney legs...

You're going to soak up Lilia's pillow again with your tears—from shame, and embarrassment—again. Well at least you're met with a different type of stare, instead of the aloof tutting you were most familiar with.

When Lilia finally came back, he was scolding you, and making fun of your stance. You were about to bawl your eyes out in front of your own teacher, and peers again.

After yours little training session, you plopped yourself down on the bench, your eyes drifting to the sun already setting.

You're sweating as hell, and so was Lilia. "Are you finally feeling like a faerie?" He patted your back, flashing you a proud grin. "No." You were quick to reply along with giving him this deadpanned look.

Lilia merely sighed, "well if you hadn't put yourself in such a difficult, funny form, maybe you would feel a bit of progress."

Boi.

With that, he took you back to the barracks. He registered your name earlier into the squire list so you finally have a room for yourself now.

It was small, and rusty, but nice, and warm.

You were exploring the little confinement for a while, hoping to find some cool, forgotten trinkets, treasure, and cute, little knickknacks.

Lilia did in fact told you that an elite knight had once lived in this barrack.

Opening the drawers with curiosity, and excitement etched on your face, you almost let out a screech when a big furry spider with her eggs came crawling about.

In an instant, you slammed closed the wardrobe.

Huffing, and puffing, you wiped a sweat trickling from your forehead. "Bad mistake, bad mistake..." you let out a nervous chuckle.

Lilia had provided you a couple of clothes that you decided to store inside the closet instead of the wardrobe.

A puffy negligee, three pairs of uniforms, and a casual selection of clothes.

Even if they were low quality, it was enough for you, and you were very grateful, of course. Living out in the streets with only rags on your body almost all your life, you're thankful with only three pairs of outfits.

You slipped on your chemise, struggling to button it up yourself.

You bounced on your cot before falling asleep.

It's been long since you've had a home. Four walls confining you in a warm space, a roof atop your head that protected you from the bright sun, the sorry cries of clouds, and the wrath of violet thunder.

You clutched onto the quilt blanket, trembling as you breathed in.

You kind of miss Fleur City. Sort of... actually, nah, not really.

[alba1221141]

Mary Janes

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

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14

Jinx

The whole damn week feels like I'm walking through some dreamscape, like I’m caught between the fragments of a memory I can’t quite reach, but it’s all so damn sweet. Y/N’s hand, her fingers threading through mine, is the only thing grounding me.

It’s like we’re both floating, but somehow still tethered to each other by something—something warm, something soft, something real.

Everyone knows.

Everyone fucking knows.

And it’s... It’s different now.

It’s freeing. Like there’s no more hiding, no more second-guessing every glance or touch. Like I can breathe, really breathe, without the weight of secrets pressing down on me.

I think it’s her laugh that gets to me the most. It's like everything good in the world wrapped up in the sound of it.

It’s a little quiet, like she’s still figuring out how to let herself be loud, but it’s still hers, and I can’t get enough of it.

And I—shit, I think I'm getting soft.

But when her eyes meet mine, I forget how to speak. There’s this look—this look she gives me, like she’s seeing me, all the way down to the fucked-up parts I keep buried. And she’s still here. She’s still mine.

My girl.

We’re in the library, of course, where it’s too quiet and too crowded all at once, but it doesn’t matter.

I’m leaning against a table, watching her as she flips through some bullshit textbook, and all I can think about is the way her lips curve when she reads, the way she chews on her pen like she’s too caught up in her thoughts to notice.

I lean in, my voice barely a whisper, but she hears it, always. “You look fucking cute when you concentrate,” I murmur, my fingers grazing her wrist. She jumps, startled, but then she smiles.

That smile. God, it lights me up from the inside out, and I can’t help but lean in to kiss her, right there in the middle of this boring-ass library.

When we break apart, she’s blushing, and I can’t help but chuckle at how easy it is to fluster her.

"Shut up," she mumbles, but her voice is all soft and sweet, and she’s looking down at her hands, still holding her damn textbook like it’s the most important thing in the room.

“No, really,” I press, “You’re all fucking cute and smart and perfect, and I can’t get enough of you.”

She ducks her head, but I can see her trying to fight the smile. And that—that—is all I need.

She’s here. We’re here. And it’s all soft kisses and stolen glances in between the chaos of school, like we’re living in a world where nothing else matters but the way our fingers fit together.

Y/N’s laughter bubbles up again, and I feel it in my chest, spreading like a fire I never want to put out. “I love you,” she says, like she’s telling me the weather, like it’s the simplest truth in the world.

And I—fuck, I think I’m a goner.

I’m grinning like an idiot, my heart still thudding in my chest from that last kiss, when a voice breaks through the bubble of my little world.

"Ugh. Are you two gonna be like this the whole fucking semester?"

I pull away from Y/N reluctantly, groaning as I look over to see Ekko standing there, arms crossed, smirking like he’s just caught us doing something criminal.

He leans against the bookshelf, raising an eyebrow at us both, clearly unimpressed.

“Oh, come on, Ekko,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re still on that bitter, lonely shit.”

He gives me that look, the one that says he’s definitely judging us. "What? I'm just saying," he smirks, "You two are all over each other like some cheesy romance novel. Kinda hard to focus on my own shit with all the heart-eye emojis floating around."

Y/N, still blushing and a little awkward, shoots him a playful glare. "We’re allowed to be happy, Ekko," she says, her voice still carrying that soft, sweet undertone that somehow makes me want to protect her from everything, even Ekko’s mockery.

Ekko raises both hands in mock surrender. "I didn’t say you couldn’t be happy. I’m just saying, some of us enjoy a little less PDA and a little more actual work. You know, the kind of work that doesn’t involve adoring gazes."

“Bite me,” I say with a snort, crossing my arms and leaning back in my seat. "You wish you had someone to adore you like that, huh?"

Ekko chuckles, the sound low and easy, but it’s clear he’s not backing down. “Nah. I’m good. Can’t imagine the level of distraction that’d come with having someone cling to you like that. You two are practically glued at the fucking hip.”

Y/N shoots him a smile, her eyes dancing with that mischievous sparkle that makes me weak in the knees. "Jealous much?"

"Hardly." Ekko shrugs, but there's something almost soft about the way he looks at us, like he’s kinda... warming up to the idea that maybe, just maybe, we’re not total idiots for being like this.

"You two are disgustingly cute," he mutters with a half-grin before shaking his head. "Alright, alright, enjoy your little bubble. Just remember, not everyone’s here for your lovey-dovey bullshit."

Y/N and I share a glance, and I can see her trying not to laugh. I can feel her hand brush mine under the table, and I swear my heart skips a beat.

“I’ll make sure we keep it to a minimum for you,” I tease, winking at her.

“Yeah, sure,” she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Next time, we’ll tone down the heart-eye looks just for you, Ekko."

Ekko just rolls his eyes dramatically, but I can see the small, approving smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Whatever. You two keep me entertained. Now, back to pretending to do actual schoolwork."

With a final flick of his fingers, he turns and heads off down the aisle, leaving Y/N and me alone again, the tension between us still sweet and electric, like a live wire.

“I can’t believe he’s so rude,” she mutters, but there’s laughter in her voice.

I grin at her, watching her blush under my gaze again. "Don’t worry. He secretly loves it. And you know what? So do I."

She rolls her eyes, but I can see the little smile creeping back up. We’re back in our bubble again, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

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Y/N

The changing room hums with a familiar rhythm, the sound of shoes tapping on the floor, the rustle of fabric, and the soft murmur of voices. It smells faintly of hairspray and sweat, a blend that’s almost comforting in its predictability. Yet, beneath the surface of my routine, I feel something stirring—something that isn’t quite as settled as I’d like it to be.

Cait’s voice slices through the air, a little sharper than usual, carrying a weight I hadn’t anticipated. “So, uh, you and... Jinx. You two really are serious, huh?”

I pause, fingers lingering on the edge of my cheer uniform as I look up. The room seems to still, just for a breath, as if waiting for me to answer. Her words are heavy, but there’s something underneath them—a hesitance, a hesitation I can’t quite place.

And in that moment, I feel the tug of something—protectiveness, maybe? Or worry?

I nod slowly, my gaze dropping to the hem of my skirt, where the fabric feels too tight for comfort. “Yeah. We’re... figuring things out,” I say, my voice steady despite the uncertainty swirling inside me.

Mel, as always, is the voice of calm, her presence a quiet anchor in the storm. “Love is... unpredictable, isn’t it? It’s never quite what we expect, but maybe that’s the beauty of it,” she muses, her words flowing like a soft melody.

But Cait doesn’t seem convinced.

She shifts, a flicker of discomfort passing across her face. “I get it,” she says, but the weight of her voice makes it sound more like a question than a statement. “It’s just... Jinx? She’s... well, she’s different. I don’t know, Y/N. You’ve never really been the type to—”

I know where she’s going with this, and I brace myself. Cait’s protective, and I understand that. But sometimes it feels like she doesn’t see Jinx for who she really is. She sees the chaos, the unpredictability, but not the girl beneath it all—the girl I love.

“I can handle it,” I say, quieter this time, but firm. “I’m not... fragile, Cait.”

Mel’s soft laugh breaks the tension, like a delicate ripple across still water. “Perhaps we all have more strength than we give ourselves credit for.”

Cait sighs, her gaze drifting away as if weighing her thoughts. The moment lingers between us, heavy with unspoken words, until Cait speaks again, her voice softer now, almost tentative. “Okay, okay, I’m not trying to be a buzzkill... but, um, if you really want to show me that you’re serious about this... maybe we could go on a double date? With Vi.” Her eyes flick to mine, guarded but sincere. “If you’d like. No pressure.”

The offer hangs in the air, delicate and uncertain, like a fragile thread between us. I blink, caught off guard by the invitation. Cait... Cait wants to meet me halfway? Wants to understand, maybe? It feels strange, but in the best way possible.

I chew on my lip, my thoughts swirling like the shifting colors of the sky at dusk. “A double date?” I repeat, the words tasting strange on my tongue, as if I’m not quite sure what to make of them.

She shrugs, trying to mask her uncertainty with a nonchalant expression, but I see the way her fingers tug at her hair—a subtle sign of the nerves she’s trying to hide. “Yeah, well, if you want. It’s no big deal.”

Mel smiles softly, a gentle curve of her lips that speaks more than words ever could. “I think it’s a lovely idea, Y/N. A bit of time away from school, a chance to enjoy the simple things.”

“I’ll think about it,” I say, my voice softer than I intend, the words coming out with a careful hesitation. “Thanks, Cait. I’ll let you know.”

Cait doesn’t say anything, but I catch the flicker of something in her eyes—a softening, like she’s been waiting for me to say just that. She nods, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips, before turning back to adjust her uniform in front of the mirror.

Mel, always the voice of grace, adds in a tone that makes everything seem just a little bit brighter, “I think it’ll be lovely, Y/N. A new beginning, perhaps.”

And for a moment, just a fleeting moment, I believe her. I believe that maybe this is a step toward something more—something better. Something simple, something good.

As I take a quiet breath, the room falls into a comfortable rhythm again, the conversation flowing like a gentle stream. But something feels different now, lighter, as though the world is just a little bit easier to navigate.

Maybe it’s because for the first time in a while, I feel like everything might just be okay.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿

Jinx

This place is way too fucking fancy.

Like, what the hell are we doing here? Some overpriced, candle-lit, soft jazz-playing, rich-people bullshit kinda place.

Everything smells like truffle oil and pretentiousness.

The waiter keeps calling me ma’am, and I want to sock him in the jaw just for that. But whatever. This is what we’re doing, apparently.

I tap my fingers on the edge of the table, pretending to study the fancy menu like I’m some sophisticated, high-society queen—except I’m not.

I’m just here because Y/N insisted, and Vi dragged me along. I was honestly just hoping for a cheeseburger, but no, I get this mess.

Truffle oil? What even is that? Sounds like something that should be illegal.

I glance over at Y/N, her face scrunched up like she’s pondering the meaning of life as she stares at the drink menu. Cute. I could literally eat her up right now—metaphorically, of course.

“Y/N,” I tease, voice low enough so only she hears, “If you order some fancy-ass drink with the word infusion in it, I’m gonna lose it. Just get a damn soda, toots”

She glances at me, her lips twitching into a smile like she can’t decide whether to roll her eyes or giggle.

God, I love that. It’s like she’s trying to be all refined, but she’s secretly a little freak with me.

Caitlyn’s over there with Vi, already in some boring conversation about the exquisite bouquet of whatever wine she’s pretending to care about.

Ugh.

Still can't stand Cait. I mean, yeah she is like one of my girls best friends so I do have to act civil, but god is it fucking painful.

Y/N lets out this little laugh when I fake-gag at Caitlyn and Vi’s conversation. I shoot her a wink, like yeah, you get it.

“Just promise me you won’t drink anything that tastes like nail polish remover,” I say, leaning over to whisper in her ear. “The waiter looks like he knows how to make that happen.”

She rolls her eyes at me, but I can see the slight amusement behind it. She knows what I’m about, even when I’m being all extra.

“Promise,” she says, her voice soft, and I’m pretty sure I could live in that sound forever.

Vi raises a brow, cutting into our bubble. “I think we’re all set,” she says, her tone a little more serious than usual. "Caitlyn, are we doing dessert?"

"Of course," Caitlyn responds, as if dessert is some fancy word for noble pursuit. "The tasting menu has a truffle mousse that pairs wonderfully with a Chardonnay."

I can't stop myself from snorting. "A mousse? What, they’re putting truffle oil in everything now? We can’t escape it." I glance at Caitlyn, giving her a playful side-eye. "Not even dessert’s safe, huh?"

She shoots me a look that would kill a lesser person, but I’m too quick for her. She doesn’t know how to handle me. Nobody does.

Vi chuckles, probably just to keep the peace. “I think it’s a good idea,” she says, nudging Caitlyn’s foot under the table. “We’ll be fine.”

Whatever.

Fine. If that’s how they wanna play it, I’ll just make sure Y/N’s enjoying herself. We don’t need fancy food or fake wine to have fun.

Cause as sappy as it sounds, we have eachother and that's all I need.

.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.☁︎

authors note: this isn't the last chapter yet ;)

please like and reblog!

[ghosttoastx]

*shaking you gently please give my teeny tiny ink crumbs*

How did Error and Ink meet? Does he have a nickname for him? Is anyone allowed to babysit and does ink have a favourite? Does ink have any abilities besides being the cutest ever? Is there a little Broomie and Buggy? (⁠っ⁠.⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠っ

Ask and you shall receive :3 don't mind my writing plssss I just woke up (┬┬﹏┬┬)

How They Met:

I imagine that Error finding Ink was by chance. For one reason or another, Error finds himself smackdab in the middle of a fight between Nightmare and the gang, and the Star's (since Ink isn't there, the Stars would only consists of Dream, Blue, Core Frisk, and Possibly Red). I image the whole fight shenanigan would take place in Outertale, which would be why Error was there in the first place and why he was caught off guard.

Anyways! Error gets dragged into the fight (he's very pissy about this) and in a ditch effort to get away (he was not fleeing. definitely. he would never heheh) from the conflict, he quickly throws himself through a portal, not really thinking about where exactly he wanted to go, just that he wanted some stars-damn peace and quite.

And Peace and Quite he shall receive. Kinda.

Error finds himself in a vast white expanse, taking a moment to register that this was not his Anti-Void. After some frustration, he'd begrudging sate his curiosity about the strange AU he'd found himself in and look around. Not that there's really much to see.

After examining the strangely apathetic sketches that were the residents of the world, Error would become bored or disappointed in his lack of findings. Feeling even more sour about this whole ordeal from before. There's nothing even here worth while for him to Destroy!! What a fucking rip off!!

turning tail to leave, Error goes to open a portal, though he stops and screeches the most unholy of screeches when something snags one of the ends of his scarf.

he whirls around, tugging the end of his scarf away from his pursuer, ready to rip whatever abomination decided to mess with him to shreds. He's taken off guard (again today) when the tiny thing that had decided to grab him came up with the scarf. He shakes the garment, trying to dislodge it, to no avail as (what appears to be) a small skeleton monster giggles joyously.

Error stops jostling his scarf (and in turn the tiny skeleton monster) with a frustrated huff. without warning the small monster grabs hold of Error's arm, causing him to shriek in fury and panicked anticipation.

...

But nothing happened. No sudden bursts of glitches, no buffering no nothing. Error stood there, dumbfounded as the skeleton clung happily to him, completely unaware of Error's internal conflict.

After a moment, Error haphazardly (albeit hesitantly) grabbed the wretched abomination, holding him at arms length.

He stands there in the whiteness, staring intensely at the small skeleton. Whatever else this anomaly might be aside, the thing was definitely a child. Aging was weird in the Multiverse but Error would have to guess that the kid was maybe two?? Three years old?????

Error continues to stare at the kid for a moment, debating with himself, before sighing a heavy 'fuck this shit' and plops the kid back on the ground (was it even ground?) turns and walks away into a portal.

...

. . .

. . .

It took all of 30 seconds for Error to reappear, scoop up the kid, and reenter a portal to the Anti-Void.

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

Okay. That ramble ended up becoming more of a drabble heheh oopsies. I might write a proper drabble later to better execute the idea. Preferably not this early in the morning next time lmao

Anyways!!! Moving On!!!

Nicknames:

I don't really think Error himself would give Ink any nicknames. At least not any endearing ones. But I feel like some of the others might have nicknames for him. And by nicknames I'm referring to things like 'kid', 'kiddo', 'bud', etc. etc.

I feel like Ink himself would give nicknames to the others as well. but like. he'd be bad at it. I feel like he'd just do that thing where you add a 'y' at the end of someone's name. Like 'Blue' would be 'Bluey' or something. 'Dream' 'Dreamy'. You get the idea.

Nightmare have and 'y' nickname would b interesting I feel tho. 'Nightmare' would be 'Nighty'. which could lead to Nightmare being reminded of himself and Dream when they were younger or something which could be reallyyyy interesting to explore heheh. But!! that'll have to be for another time >:3!!!

Babysitting:

Error's a busy guy, destroying AUs and stuff. As much as he'd hate it, He'd definitely need a babysitter for Ink while he was out. Not only to keep an eye on him, but to also keep him company.

Ink wouldn't like being left in the Anti-Void alone for long periods of time. Despite the Anti-Void and Ink's abandoned AU not exactly having the same feel as one another. The Anti-Void is still a vast expanse of whitespace.

Optimally, out of all of them, Error prefers to leave Ink with the Stars more often than not. More Specifically Blue, but Dream and Core Frisk (sometimes Red too) kinda just come as a package deal.

Error's not to keen on leaving Ink with Nightmare and his gang to frequently. Mostly because their group is much more...unpredictable. I suppose. (Error doesn't appreciate their efforts at encouraging Ink to play 'pranks' on him.)

Ink loves all of them. he doesn't really mind who's watching him for the day. Though out of everyone, I feel like Ink would really Enjoy having Blue watch over him.

But I also feel like Ink would really like hanging out with Nightmare. Not necessarily because Nightmare is a good babysitter, but more so because Nightmare is the one to avoid him the most. Kids are curious, and Ink would be super duper curious about cool, spooky, mysterious Nightmare. So he'd just kinda hang around him.

Nightmare has a lot of conflicting feelings about this.

Ink’s Abilities:

As of right now, no one can really figure out what's up with Inks magic. it's weird and goopy and not like any magic any of them have seen before.

No ones really sure what to do with this.

Broomie & Buggy:

At this point in time, neither Broomie nor Buggy are a thing quite yet

[abbeyctt]

abbey: I guess I don't understand why sabrina gets you so worked up and emotional so easily if it was never serious. at first, with what she was saying about you, I get it. but now? the same can be said for madison, but that's easier to understand where and why the emotions come from..I see it and it makes me question or wonder if I've ever even ignited half of the intense emotions they seem to get from you so easily. and if not, then why are you still here bc i must be boring the shit out of you. or thats what goes on in my mind. you've been so closed off with me from the start and I know especially lately I haven't been the most open, either..I hate confrontation and I don't want to upset you so I honestly try not to let it bother me. So i've tried to work thru my jealousy issues, but it's hard to when it feels like everytime I think I'm getting somewhere..inevitably something happens.

abbey: if that's the case, I just wonder why it feels like you'd rather put more energy into these other relationships and people, than ours? it's not an accusatory question either, it's an honest one.

rudy: okay, well one... feeling with sabrina is hate, not passion. and it will never go back to anything else. and the important word with madison is 'were'. as much as i try to not admit it, she hurt me. and that's why i went into my whole 'slut era' mode. probably also why i didn't get any further with sabrina. i'm not in love with madison anymore. and i never was with sabrina. rudy: you are the only one i have wanted since we officially got together, abbey. i'm sorry if my actions haven't shown that but it's the truth. even when we were broken up, i couldn't even look at anyone else and i didn't want to. all i could think about was you.

[thanatika]

yeah i agree with your point about survival mechanics and i feel the same way about the lack of combat mechanics. "why would an educated city doctor need a weapon" because shit is hitting the fan in every way impossible and pretty much everyone is walking around armed... also why am i supposed to believe the the fact that he's a man of intellect will somehow provide him with food? i don't think anyone is going to be too eager to share food during an outbreak intellectual or not...

+ follow up for the previous ask but actually my favorite quest from the original pathologic is the day 11 bachelor quest that involves shooting down soldiers. i think it really drives the point home about how this random fuckass guy who is supposed to be battling a plague doesn't even have the time to do that anymore because the people in charge are asking completely irrelevant things of him now and he's at a position where he cannot refuse what is being asked of him. like i think it was good storytelling that even as the guy who lowkey wants to deal with the plague and solve its mystery you still have other, more pressing, less interesting and or pleasant tasks to complete

i agree! honestly, i feel this way about the combat mechanics even more than i do about the physical survival (food, health, illness, sleep) mechanics. because sure, i can see how it makes sense for daniil's position of authority to mean that his basic needs are somewhat provided for -- although i don't think it makes more sense than what we got in the original game. i've never seen anyone bring up "isn't it kind of unrealistic that the bachelor isn't given lots of food during a massive food shortage?" as a plothole that needed to be resolved. the townspeople generally don't like him much, and most of the people with power don't either, except for the kains. sure, maybe it's kind of weird that you can go see the kains while broke and on the verge of keeling over from hunger, and they won't do anything to help you, but... the kains are pretty self-centered, and they're so goddamn weird that maybe they forget that you need to eat food to live anyway. and it's half-implied that the powers that be are ultimately giving daniil this role as a convenient way to kill him, so it makes sense that they would put no pressure on the town authorities to keep him alive.

(and honestly, artemy is taken under the olgimsky's auspices as much as the kains take daniil's under theirs! which is to say, selfishly, with ulterior motives that are more important to them than the well-being of their healer, but... the olgimskys are set up as the wealthiest of the 3 families financially, as well as the ones with the most access to food, given their control over the meat industry. so if anything it's "weirder" that artemy isn't more materially provided for, though to be clear i don't think there's an actual plothole there either way.)

but anyway, you could handwave it and say that daniil's position of privilege and authority gives him more perks than he got in the original game, but the amount of fighting you have to do to get through town is... kind of an unavoidable physical reality? like you're given so many sidequests that you often wind up walking around town after dark, and that's when the bandits come out. is the idea that the bandits would be too scared to attack him because he's so important? because that doesn't make a lot of sense to me, and even pathologic 2 establishes that he's seen as a valuable target by the bandits:

and then there's the quests where combat plays a more direct role in the story itself, like getting involved in saving andrey from the firing squad, or killing guards to break artemy out of prison, or the quest where you have to kill var in attempt to stop the arsonists (which i include on the same tier as the other ones because i really like the quest journal entry he has if you complete it where he blames himself for willow's death. it's a good character moment.)

hell, even in pathologic 2 itself, one of the biggest Bachelor Moments is on day 11, when you have that big dramatic convo with him after he killed a soldier for the papers he was delivering. plus one of bad grief's idle dialogues in patho 2 is commentary on the bachelor being "quick on the draw" and that he "already shot someone". like he just straight up is not living a combat-free existence. and overall, combat isn't just a good tool from a mechanical perspective, heightening the stakes and placing pressure on the player (though it is), it's also pretty important for him on a thematic level imo, almost as important as artemy and his "rivers of blood". in patho classic, daniil has this early interaction with the inquisitor:

which, thinking about it from a doylist perspective, was probably the writers' attempt to make it sound more plausible that this random medical researcher from the big city was competent with multiple types of guns. and i appreciate them coming up with that hint of backstory to cover their bases a bit, but with those bases covered, i think the fact that daniil ultimately spends more time shooting people than he does prescribing medicines for them actually does a lot for him thematically? i mean, if his whole thing is that he's this "tempted destroyer", someone who frames his career as a combative battle with death rather than a quest to save people's lives, whose "default" solution is to raze the town with artillery because he's too limited by his rationalist worldview and military upbringing (and bitterness over being manipulated and sabotaged) to come up with a solution that saves the any remaining infected survivors on his own. plus the way that clara frames artemy and daniil as two sides of the same coin in being violent destroyers and killers, who without player intervention will immediately devolve to running around chasing each other down in what's either an insanely dedicated tom and jerry LARP or some really elaborate foreplay. imo, that whole dichotomy (which is pretty core to the game, as the idea of dichotomies are core to it in general) works so much better with the way they're both presented in classic, stalking around with gun/scalpel in hand. hell, not to mention the effect that spending 12 in-game days trying not to starve and getting killed by bandits or guards or worms or soldiers every day would have on the player, and the way it would make them feel about the town and their natural projection of those feelings onto dankovsky, who is a perfectly fitting vessel for them as the avatar actually undergoing those virtual experiences.

ultimately i think they are mainly going this direction out of a desire to do something more creative and original, which is fine... it just seems a bit silly to me that they keep saying "well obviously that doesn't really work for the bachelor's scenario", when, well... even as recently as patho 2 in 2019, they seemed to think it fit his narrative pretty well! i'm also guessing that a lack of combat won't be that bandits are just no longer roaming the streets at night. it sounds more like pathologic 3 is set to be more of a nonlinear experience, where you'll probably fast travel from place to place instead of having to walk across town so much? so you'll be avoiding bandits just in the sense that the gameplay will be avoiding them. i guess i'm hoping that at the very least, there's still the implication of the crunch of not getting enough sleep or food and the threat of being stabbed to death while trying to get through town occurring to dankovsky in the background, even if those mechanics are deemphasized in favor of more macro-level town resource management, time control, and sherlock holmes fruit ninja or whatever the hell they were on about back in 2022 lmao.

[prolibytherium]

I never touched it but I feel like i only ever hear positive things said about song of achilles.. in (rough strokes at least) what makes it dogshit to you?

Okay it's been a while since I actually read it so some of this might not be spot on accurate. Sorry if at any point I say 'the book never does xyz' and it actually does once or twice but I think my underlying criticisms are accurate

-Patroclus is made into like this soft gentle tender quivering little yaoi boy. In the source text, he's shown as compassionate and moved by the suffering of his own men (and apparently having some medical skill, tending to the wounded in the camp), but very much invested n combat and very, very good at it (pages worth of descriptions of the guys he's killing left and right). In this, the arguably more complex character from this 8th century BC text is flattened into Being A Healer, he doesn't want to go to war he just wants to help people, he only goes because Achilles has to but he doesn't want to fight he's a HEALER he's a gentle lover NOT A FIGHTER who just wants to help he just wants to help everyone around him he HEALS while Achilles is a doomed warrior who is so good at fighting and KILLING its a DICHOTOMY GUYS!!!LIKE THE BEAUTIFUL SUN AND MOON DOOMED LOVERS SO SAD patocluse HEALER . (I Think he's specifically characterized as being BAD at fighting but might be misremembering)

-I don't remember much about Achilles' characterization I think it just makes him less of a jackass while not adding anything of interest and levels out into being mad boring.

-Not getting into the literal millenias old debate whether the mythological characters Achilles and Patroclus were being characterized as some type of lover by the original oral sources of the Iliad or its Homeric writers. We will never know. We don't even know what (if any) culturally accepted conventions of male homosexuality existed in bronze age Greece (we know much more about their descendants). But there are some interesting elements of their characterization in this direction, with how unconventional their relationship is WITHIN the text itself- Patroclus is described as cooking for Achilles and his guests (very specifically a woman/wife's job), Achilles chides Patroclus like a father, but there's also scene where Achilles' mourning of him directly echoes a passage of Hector's wife mourning her husband, Patroclus is explicitly stated to Achilles' elder, and is overall treated as his equal or near-equal, closest confidant and most beloved friend (to the point that pederastic classical Greeks would debate over who was erastes (older authority figure lover) and who was eromenos (adolescent 'beloved')- many took it as a given that this text depicted their present-day cultural norms of homosexual behavior but it existed so Outside of these norms that it had to be debated who was who). Their relationship is non-standard both within the text and to the descendants of the civilization that wrote them.

Basically what I'm saying is this book had opportunities to like, explore the unconventionality of the relationship (being presented here as explicitly lovers), explore the dynamics of why Patroclus wants to do 'women's work' (besides being a tenderhearted softboy), the weird dynamics where they take on paternal roles to each other but also roles of wives, how they feel about being this way, and just kind of Doesn't. Which I guess isn't an intrinsic fault (because it omits much of what I just talked about to begin with). it's just like.... Lame. This book takes jsut abandons everything interesting about the source text in favor of flattening it into bland Doomed Yaoi.

-The conflict that sets off the core story of the Iliad is Achilles and Agamemnon fighting over Briseis, an enslaved Trojan woman taken by Achilles as a war-trophy, Achilles spends most of the story moping because he was dishonored by his 'trophy' being taken. Achilles and Patroclus and everyone else are raping their captives, all the women in the story are either captured Trojans (or in the case of the free women within the walls of Troy, soon to be enslaved, and are slave owners themselves). Slavery as an institution and extreme patriarchal conventions are innate to the text and reflective of the context in which it was developed. You cannot avoid it.

But obviously you can't have your soft yaoi boys doing this, so the author has them capturing women to Protect Them from the other men. Their slaves are UNDER THEIR PROTECTION and VERY SAFE (and they might even Like And Befriend Them but I might be misremembering that. Briseis does though). Our heroes have apparently absorbed none of the ideals of the culture they exist in and the author seems to think "they're gay and aren't sexually attracted to their captives" would translate to them being outright benevolent (also as if wartime sexual violence is just about attraction and not part of a wider spectrum of violent acts to dehumanize and brutalize an accepted 'enemy')

In the source text, Briseis mourns Patroclus as being the kindest to her of her captors, who tried to get her a slightly better outcome by getting her married to Achilles (which probably would be the Least Bad of all possible outcomes for a woman in that situation, becoming a legal wife instead of a slave), and wonders what will happen to her now that he's gone. This is a really really sad, horrible, and compelling dynamic which could be fleshed out in very interesting ways but is instead is tossed entirely aside in favor of them being Besties. Like brother and sister.

All of the above pisses me off so much. If you don't want to engage in the icky parts of ancient/bronze age Greece then don't write a retelling of a story taking place in bronze age Greece. I'm not gonna get mad at children's adaptations of Greek myths or silly fun stories loosely based on them for omitting the rape and slavery but it is SO fundamental to the Iliad. If you're not willing to handle it, either fully omit it or better yet set your Iliad inspired yaoi in an invented swords-and-sandals setting where you can have all your heartbreaking tragic doomed lovers plot beats and not have to clumsily write around the women they're brutalizing.

-The author didn't seem to know what to do with Thetis and she made her just like, Achilles bitch mother who spends most of the story trying to separate our Yaoi Boys (iirc her disguising Achilles as a girl and hiding him on Scyros is made to be more about getting him away from Patroclus than trying to save her son from his prophesied doom in the Trojan War) until she sees how much they loooove each other and I think helps Patroclus' spirit get to the afterlife or something in the end?

-This is more of a personal taste gripe but it has that writing style I loathe where the prose feels less like a story and more like an attempt to string together Deep Beautiful Hard Hitting Poetic Lines that will look great as excerpts on booktok (might predate booktok but same vibe). It's all very Pretty and Haunting and Deep but feels devoid of real substance.

I really like The Iliad and The Odyssey in of themselves. They're fascinating historical texts that give a window into how 8th century BC Greeks told their stories, saw their world, interpreted their ancestors, etc. And genuinely I think these texts have 'good' characters, there's a lot of complexity and humanity to it.

WRT the Iliad- all of the main Achaeans are pretty fascinating, the one singular part where Briseis Gets To Talk and laments her situation is great, Achilles fantasizing that all of the Trojans AND the Achaeans die so he and Patroclus alone can have the glory of conquering Troy (wild), Achilles asking to embrace Patroclus' shade and reaching out for him but it's immaterial (and the shade being sucked back underground with a 'squeak' (the squeak kinda gets me it's disturbing and sad)), Hecuba talking about wanting to tear out Achilles' liver and eat it in a (taboo, exceptioally pointed) expression of rage and grief for his mutilation of her son's corpse, just one tiny line where the enslaved women performing ritual wailing for their dead captors are described as using it as an outlet to 'grieve for their own troubles' is heartrending, etc. A lot of grappling with anger and grief and the inevitability of death, a lot of groundwork laid for characters that could be very interesting when expanded upon in the framework of a conventional novel.

And Song Of Achilles really doesn't do much with all that. I know a lot of my gripes here are kind of just "It's different from the Iliad", I would have thought of it as mostly mediocre and forgettable rather than infuriating if it wasn't a retelling (and I DEFINITELY have strong biases here). But I think the ways in which it is different are less just a product of a retelling (of course there's going to be omissions and differences) and more a complete and utter disinterest in vast majority of its own subject matter, to the book's detriment. I think a retelling has a point when it EXPANDS on the source, or provides a NEW ANGLE to the source. This book doesn't Really do either, it just shaves off the complexity of its source material, renders the characters into a really boring archetype of a gay relationship, and gives very little else. Its content boils down to a middling tragic romance that has been inserted into the hollowed out defleshed skeleton of the Iliad.

Bottom line: I definitely would not be as mad about it if I wasn't familiar with the source material but I think it's fair to expect a retelling to Engage with/expand on its source, and I also think it's weak purely on its own merits. This book was set up to disappoint Me specifically.

[thermodynamic-comedian]

in tmagp who are we betting on having the first "ceaseless watcher, turn your gaze upon this wretched thing" moment. who do we think is gonna be the first to yell some ominous eldritch horror shit

[wrongtvrns]

It made her laugh a little when she heard Hazal's reaction to quaint. "Anything would be dull and boring after Paris though, right?" It was an assumption and her dark eyes examined the other woman's face to see if she'd been right in her guess. France was a large country and had many beautiful parts to it, at least what she'd seen in pictures and videos, but something said this wonderfully foreign woman she was standing on a cold Michigan sidewalk with was from one of the most romanticized cities ever. For Sunny it had been different. Detroit was an industry city and beyond that the brunette had only recently exited prison when she'd made the calculated move to Woodside. Anything was blessing after an 8x8 cell. "Or are you even luckier and lived somewhere like the French Riviera?" That was a dream vacation spot. Maybe once she'd enacted her revenge and likely would need to leave the US that was where she'd go. There was something so familiar to the information that she was gathering about this woman. It was tickling Sunny's brain and it was annoying that she couldn't put her finger on it. "I can imagine. I get the feeling your knowledge of the arts outshines pretty much everyone here," the brunette glanced around to show she meant the city, "we're lucky to have you. Bless the museum for adding beauty to our streets."

At the questioning following her mention of scrubs Sunny chuckled and shook her head at the guesses. No one ever suspected dentistry and while that made sense, at the same time, it also was odd how something as important never came to mind. "Actually," Sunny stood proud, "you're in the presence of the best dental hygienist in the city of Woodside." She softly laughed to herself. It wasn't an impressive or enviable job but it was necessary and made her a good living. After they ordered their coffees the brunette tipped her head in acceptance of Hazal's gratitude as they stepped aside while the baristas worked their magic. Strangely, after their introductions, this was the first time someone questioned her on the use of her nickname. The amount of times she either introduced herself or her full name was given ( Nadia Solís ) professionally, either on a business card or appointment reminders, no one ever questions her going by Sunny. It was curious to her that Hazal picked it up and her head tilted to the side. It dawned on her slowly as Hazal explained why this Turkish woman by way of France had felt so familiar. But when it did she took a step back, jaw practically dropping to the floor. "Wait, wait, wait... yeah, no, Sunny is my nickname, but... oh my god!" She smacked the heel of her palm against her forehead. "Hazal, France, adevtnurous traveling, holy shit. Okay no wonder you felt so familiar to me... I think that penpal you just mentioned was me." Her hands went to cover her mouth as she let out an incredulous laugh. How was this even happening? "I'm Sunny Solís... did you used to write someone in prison?"

When the woman pointed out that Woodside was more beautiful than Detroit, a place Hazal had only heard about in movies or years ago in those old pen pal emails, all she could do was accept that maybe the scenery alone was enough of a reason to stick around Woodside for a bit longer. "The first time I was here, quaint seemed like such a horrible way to describe it, you know? I hated it." She could admit that she hadn't given the city a fair chance last time, and she was young so that didn't help, but maybe she'd have to give it more grace this time around. Well, she would try harder this time, or so she kept telling herself. When the other brunette spoke up and confirmed that hard truth Hazal had been trying not to dwell on, she knew she had to remain open to whatever good things this town offered, even if it were nothing more than the women. But sensing what the woman was alluding to, she shrugged one shoulder carelessly. "I needed a bit of fresh, American air. Besides, the museum was willing to pay a pretty penny for someone with my expertise, so it's like a chill vacation to balance out the adventurous life I've lived." How she'd managed to make that sound like it could have been the full truth, she didn't know, yet she was pretty proud of herself for it.

Her one year in Woodside before had quickly shown her that Americans had it rough in certain areas, so she could understand where the woman was coming from about tourists getting the high end stuff cheaper when they could. She didn't blame them, even if she was used to paying the higher fees for it if it came to that. "Good to know. I'll keep that in mind." She stated with a slight nod of her head. At least she knew that this beauty didn't have to worry about that struggle either, judging by her attire, and even the way she spoke of the middle class. Maybe they'd have a lot in common after all. But when she mentioned her work attire, Hazal raised a brow. "Scrubs? Are you a nurse? Doctor? Vet?" She questioned curiously, suddenly wanting to know more about the beautiful stranger who was buying her more coffee that she truly didn't need, but oh well. "Thank you." She beamed at the compliment, trying not to blush in response. When the woman finally revealed her name, Hazal furrowed her brows. "Sunny's not your legal name, is it?" She asked. "Not that there's anything wrong with Sunny. In fact, I knew a Sunny once. We were pen pals once upon a time, so it's not a bad name. I just figured it's more of a nickname someone gives themself, you know?"

[jessicas-pi]

Ben has kind of been having the worst day of his life, what with the dying and all.

It’s a marked improvement when he’s tramping through the forests of Takodana and a familiar voice demands, “Would you believe me if I told you Palpatine was my grandfather?”

He turns around.

Stares.

Rey stands ten feet away, her blaster pointed at him, a challenge in her eyes.

“Would you believe me if I told you Han Solo was my father?” he says, answering the question with a question.

“Yes,” she says, lowering the blaster.

“Well, that answers that,” he replies, turning off his lightsaber.

The silence stretches on.

Takodana is unpleasantly hot.

Why did he ever think wearing all-black was a suitable fashion choice?

Rey falters, apparently not having planned what to say if she got this far. “I suppose this is where we save the galaxy.”

“I suppose so,” he agrees. “To Exogol, then?”

“Have you got the Wayfinder already?” she asks, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

“Picked it up on the way here.”

“Ah. That simplifies things.” She holsters her blaster and sets off at a brisk pace, adding as she brushes past him: “And try not to die this time. It was so inconvenient.”

“You died first,” he mutters.

[fisheito]

"makotolookinass"

the intersection of nu: carnival and free! fans that are all here because of our favorite green haired hunks (himbos?) is so funny

but it kinda makes sense given that both nu: carnival and free! are both at their core about caring about the people closest to you and prevailing internal struggles

dang , anonn, you really cut thru all the glamours of distraction

in brief contrast, i feel like a simple creature. one who was dragged into the intersection simply because i saw some dudes with Unlikely Physiques

[icewindandboringhorror]

finally finished all of one character's entire quests/optional dialogue/questions/etc.... 100,000 words... .... aughhh

[desertduality]

life is wild I can just be hanging out existing and suddenly get slammed with the most intense bout of loneliness ever. like okay i'm in the middle of eating string cheese can we not do this now

[front-facing-pokemon]