#but at least i'm not *spitefully* tired

[tossawary]

This is a very niche fic idea that I have no solid intention of actually writing, but... "Naruto" has more than a few self-insert fics and some of them are transmigrations into canon characters. Some of them are about OCs who do not want to be a ninja and are desperately trying to get out of it. There's usually some deliciously frustrating tragedy and horror about the brutal and inescapable military system of Konoha.

So, I thought that it would be kind of interesting to do an OC-insert into Sasuke, probably ultimately more comedic than angsty, as the OC tries to fail out of having to become a ninja, but then has to struggle against the fact that a civilian Sasuke would probably be expected to start a new Uchiha clan ASAP. (They probably have to concede to at least becoming a genin for the benefits of legal adulthood of some kind at 12 years old, even if it means being a part of the damn military.)

But even if the OC would personally love to be a parent someday, they cannot condone participating in what's essentially a breeding program for a new generation of Sharingan-wielding super-soldiers. Children who are probably going to be chewed up and spat out by Konoha someday too.

I think it would be neat to have a character treat the Sharingan like a genetic disorder that they don't want a child to suffer. I think it would have been interesting if canon Sasuke had also wrestled with the idea of letting the Sharingan die out. Fuck it, he'll adopt if he wants to be a dad someday. I also think it would be funny to have an OC-insert whose goal is to get a secret vasectomy (body autonomy!) without the leadership of Konoha finding out.

Sasuke, as soon as Sakura becomes a medical nin: "I need you to do me a huge secret favor and NOT be weird about it."

Sakura, also still currently a teenager: "You're asking me to CASTRATE YOU, AT HOME, IN SECRET, HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO NOT BE WEIRD ABOUT THIS?!"

(And there's the whole fucking issue of the "Naruto" universe having cloning, so, no, a vasectomy isn't a solid guarantee of getting out of this. But it might buy Sasuke a few years to figure out how to avoid the mad science route too if anyone tries to force marriage on him at any point.)

Even throwing aside the issue of children, even in an AU where the OC-Insert is cool with having bio children, I think it would be really funny to have a Transmigrator Sasuke announcing outright in the first Team 7 meeting that his dream is to retire super early and become a shinobi tradwife to a super strong ninja.

Kakashi: "...What?"

Sasuke, possibly talking out of his ass to troll his team and because he's already spitefully exhausted: "I said what I said. I'm the only Uchiha left to pass on my clan's techniques, so my dream is to be a stay-at-home ninja, supported by a super strong spouse who can protect my family."

I think this would break Naruto and Sakura's brains. ("Marry Hokage Naruto" is not the worst plan that a transmigrator could come up with, probably.) I think that this would be a super funny start to a Team 7 OT3 in which Naruto and Sakura become rivals for the position of Sasuke's shinobi sugar daddy/mommy. (Naruto doesn't consciously realize that he's competing for Sasuke's hand in marriage at first, but he gets it after a few years or so.)

Kakashi is... So Tired. Obito, are you seeing this shit??? What the fuck.

I know some OC-insert / SI-insert into Sasuke fics exist, I just think the funniest plot direction for a transmigrator in this situation would be to completely bail on both the "take revenge on Itachi" and "rebuild the Uchiha clan" dreams in the least macho ways available.

Also, what WOULD Itachi think of Sasuke abruptly deciding to give up on revenge and to become a house husband instead?

[808airsoftbros]

Yujin's Wake Up Call

Author: This is a simple short story nothing too special and something that came to my mind that I want to write. If you want to see more of my stories check out my Masterlist.

Author's POV

It was another busy day at Starship, the IVE girls recently returned from their world tour and they were indeed exhausted after travelling the world for the past several months.

Yujin especially was tired along with the girls but she was disheartened when she heard that they would be visiting a patient with cancer as part of the wish foundation.

"Can you girls go for me? I'm too tired," Yujin asked and Gaeul rolled her eyes.

"Are you serious, Yujin? I get that you're tired from travelling the world but our manager says will be getting a whole month break afterward and we can do whatever we want from there," Gaeul pointed out and Yujin groaned.

"Yeah, and also our fans mean alot to us, and what about you?" Rei asked and Yujin scoffed.

"What are you on about? I'm only being nice because I have to and I hate that I have to be fake!" Yujin complained and Gaeul shook her head in disappointment.

Sadly, Yujin can be lazy at times, she'd be often caught slacking in dance practices when off camera, and you can bet every dollar that she tried every excuse you could think of to get out of her work.

This would annoy her members especially Gaeul and they'd always be fighting and arguing with one another.

"Yujin, do not start this shit again... We've been over this how many God damn times already?! When are you ever going to change?!" Gaeul angrily asked and Yujin rolled her eyes.

"When management doesn't constantly make us work to death," She answered spitefully.

"Well, if you do not behave, Ms. An Yujin, you will be one sorry woman, do you hear me?" Gaeul coldly warned but Yujin shrugged it off.

Because of how she always tends to act, the crew and management, and even her own members don't like nor respect her, but she doesn't seem to care.

Yujin also tends to have bad habits of drinking and smoking too much and Gaeul always catches her vaping when she's not supposed to.

Wonyoung and Yujin's friendship began deteriorating as she was fed up with her antics and was disheartened to see her friend changing for the worse.

One quiet night, Yujin snuck out of the dorm without waking up the girls and sat on a bench to smoke and drink.

It was quite foggy and there were hardly any noises to be heard besides the slight sounds of the breeze which was perfect for her.

"Perfect. No one to bother me," Yujin muttered as she takes a sip of soju.

"Excuse me," She heard a feminine voice asked and she turned to see a unfamiliar woman.

Yujin jumped in surprise as she didn't notice the woman approaching her.

"W-what do you want?" She nervously asked.

"Oh, sorry for startling you, it's quite a foggy night is it?" She kindly asked.

"I guess you can say that..." Yujin muttered to her and took a puff from her pod.

"Shouldn't idols be limiting how much they drink and smoke?" The woman asked as she sat down next to her.

"Why is it your business?" She snarled and the woman frowned.

Seeing Yujin's attitude, the woman just stared at her intently and then gave her a cold demeanor.

"I'll tell you why you're here... It's because you're lazy, useless, and a pathetic excuse of an idol," The woman coldly said and Yujin was taken aback.

"Who the fuck are you to judge me?! I can't help but get overwhelmed sometimes! Maybe if you were an idol then you'd understand!" Yujin retorts and the woman shook her head.

"Tsk. Overwhelmed? Only because you just have to visit a special patient? Is that your only excuse? As someone who has a chronic heart condition, you disgust me," The woman angrily replied and Yujin was now lost for words trying to come up with the words.

"I-" She was about to say but was cut off.

"Shut it! Did you know I was once an idol like you? I couldn't practice or sing on some days but I still give it my all! Unlike you, who has a management who at least cares for you and would get you the help you need... My management never cared for me, if they don't see me as efficient... Poof, they will simply get rid of me like I'm sort of a piece of garbage meant to be disposed of," The woman explained her story and Yujin gulped in fear.

"Every day I have to work through excruciating pain! The only person who ever cared for me was the custodian who works here, and I have to keep working no matter what just to survive, and here I see a spoiled rotten you always coming up with excuses just to get out of work! You leave me speechless... Do you have any idea how lucky you are?" The woman coldly asked with a tear shedding from her eye and Yujin tried to shrug off the feeling of guilt but no matter how hard she tried... It lingered inside of her but she refused to show it.

"There are many other idols left forgotten in the winds of time and talents wasted, they would give anything to be in your position yet you couldn't care less... It's pitiful," She finished and Yujin was boiling deep inside.

"And who the hell are you?!" Yujin asked her and the woman grinned.

"Consider me your wake up call, An Yujin, I hope one day you realize the error of your ways... Goodnight," The woman bid goodbye and got up from the bench.

Yujin watched as the mysterious woman walked into the fog and vanished out of sight.

After that, Yujin was left angry and confused, she wondered who the woman was as she had never met or heard of her. She quickly concludes her drinking and smoking session and goes back inside the building.

When she got into the corridor she finds the janitor Jake sweep mopping the floor.

"Hey, Jake!" Yujin called out and he paused.

"Yes?" Jake replied and Yujin sighs.

"Do you happen to know a woman who was an idol here? She claims to have a heart condition but... I don't know she's making it up or not to trick me into making me feel bad," She asked and Jake frowned before looking down.

Jake goes into his pocket pulling out a picture of the very same woman that Yujin encountered earlier and her eyes widened in surprise.

"Is this the woman you're referring to?" Jake asked as he showed the photo.

"Y-yes, that's her alright, who is she?" She curiously asked and he deeply sighed.

"Her name is Jennifer Jung, she was once a trainee here, she was also the sister of Jessica and Krystal Jung, but she had a severe and chronic heart condition... I tried my best to help her when management wasn't looking but it wasn't enough, she perished five months into her training," He explained the story and sighed once more.

Yujin froze in terror and shivers were sent down her spine as she could hardly believe that she was talking to the spirit of Jennifer this whole time.

She didn't know what to make of it but Jake didn't see her as a crazy person and he already figured she saw Jennifer. Yujin returns to her dorm and Jake continues his janitorial duties.

After that night, Yujin was a changed woman much to everyone's surprise, she eventually quit smoking and stopped drinking as much, although she mostly kept to herself, she stopped complaining and followed their schedules.

Yujin and the girls visited the hospital patient without issues or trouble much to management's delight and they were happy they were able to deliver someone's last dying wish.

Sometimes Yujin felt the urge to return to her old habits but refused and kept going no matter what. Yujin would never forget that encounter that night.

She never saw Jennifer again but on some foggy nights, she felt her presence was near but never again would she take anything for granted.

[misseviehyde]

ASCENDANCE

Erica loved her twin sister Irene very much, but she was also sick of being bullied and belittled. The twins had been victimised and humiliated all the way through school and as they reached their shared birthday it didn't appear that life was going to get any better for them. Erica took it particularly badly.  She was tired of being a doormat for other people. She didn't care that she had good grades, a loving family and a sister - she longed to have the power to stand up to her bullies and protect herself and her sister.

"Irene - I have an idea," she whispered excitedly one day as the two of them sat in their bedroom. "Remember what Grandma said all those years ago - that on our birthday we would be given the power to make a wish?  She told us so long as we both wished for the same thing, it would come true  - a magic that only works for identical twins."

Irene laughed, "Don't be crazy Erica. Magic and wishes aren't real."

"What if they are?" grinned Erica with a feral look in her eyes.  "What if tomorrow we both wish for the same thing? We wish that I was the most popular girl in school.  If it comes true, I'll be able to protect us both from the bullies."

Irene frowned, "I don't know Erica. It sounds kind of crazy and also - why would you want to change your life like that?  I don't like it, I'm happy with the way things are."

Erica scowled at her sister. "Don't be such a coward. If the magic works, we'll never have to put up with bullies again. Help me become popular and our lives could be so much better."

"Well - why can't we wish for us both to become popular?" whined Irene.

"Grandma said a wish can only affect one twin at a time.  That's what makes the magic so difficult to use, both twins have got to wish for the same thing. Pleeeeease Irene. This is the only way."

Irene shrugged. "Fine... tomorrow we'll make the wish, but I don't like this."

She climbed into bed and turned out the light, a strange disquiet in the pit of her tummy.

**************************************

Erica excitedly shook her sister awake.  "Happy birthday sis. It's time!"

Irene yawned, "Erica - it's 5AM what are you doing?"

"I know it's early, but I was too excited about the thought of making our wish.  Are you ready?"

Irene sighed. She knew that Erica would be unbearable until she got what she wanted. Sitting up in bed, she looked at her twin sister - her mirrored features staring back at her.  She sometimes wondered what was going on in Erica's head - for all that they were twins, they could be very different people.

Holding her sisters hand, Erica smiled excitedly.  "I wish I was the most popular, hottest girl in school and that all the bullies feared me."

Irene hesitated, "I wish that... Erica was the most popular girl in school and that all the bullies feared her."

They sat - still holding hands - nothing happened.

"See Erica, magic isn't real," yawned Irene.  Her sister scowled in disappointment, but nothing was happening.  "Go back to sleep and we'll talk about it when we wake up later."  Irene closed her eyes and drifted back into sleep.

****************************

Erica lay in bed, her mind racing.  Why hadn't it worked?  She scowled again - gritting her teeth.  It wasn't fair.  She wanted it so badly. To be popular and strong. To be able to stand up to her bullies and make them be the ones shitting themselves for once.  Maybe she just hadn't WANTED it enough. Her sisters wish had been luke-warm to say the least.  She began to whisper to herself, announcing her intentions to the air.

"I wish I was a fucking bitch... an evil, mean, spoiled little brat like those fucking bitches who have made my life a living hell. I wish I was ten times worse than them, that I was so fucking evil that even Irene was scared of me and everyone did what I said," she hissed spitefully.

Her pussy was suddenly wet at the thought, and ignoring her sleeping sister she slid a hand to her crotch and began to touch herself.  Where were these words coming from?  It was like her mind was feverish and on fire.

"I wish I had long blonde hair and flawless skin - that instead of this weak dorky body I was a fit, tanned, bratty Goddess.  I wish I was more beautiful than Irene - that she was nothing compared to me. I wish I had soft pink lips and perfect tits and I was always the centre of attention. Irene wouldn't matter anymore because everyone would be obsessed with ME."

Erica moaned and arched her back. Her fingers slid in and out of her wet pussy, her body was on fire. The evil words pouring out of her mouth made her feels so fucking GOOD. It felt like by saying them she was reshaping reality. And then to her amazement, she realised she was. It was working - her wish was starting to come true.

Bones cracked and shifted and her skin tanned as Erica's brunette hair turned golden blonde. She moaned in ecstasy a wild grin now on her face as she realised it was working. 

"Fuck yes! Make me a fucking bitch. Give me a tight tanned body, round bitchy boobs - a hot slutty face. Make me a vain, evil, preening self-obsessed bullying brat. I LOVE how this feels."

Erica's PJ top tightened and clung to her new body as her flat chest swelled up.  Expensive manicured nails sprang from her fingers and she became sexier and sexier.  In the bed next to Erica, Irene shifted uncomfortably in her sleep, unaware of the evil transformation her sister was going through.

Erica's new sexy eyes locked onto her sister and her wicked lips curved into a cruel sneer. "Yesssss, make me better than Irene, make me the hot sister... the one everyone wants to fuck. I'm better than her now, so much fucking better than EVERYONE!"

Erica groaned as she began to cum, her pussy exploding in a shower of squirt and hot lust as she shook and her eyes rolled up into her head.  The transformation locked as she came, her new body, personality and life coming into existence as the wish completed itself.  Ripples of energy flowed out from her - spreading through the town, changing reality and reordering existence itself...

Then there was darkness... and only Erica's panting, smiling moans of pleasure as she was reborn just how she had wanted.

She had ascended...

*********************************************

Opening her eyes, Irene realised something was wrong straight away.  Sitting bolt upright in bed - she realised that she was alone - truly alone. A strange state for a twin to find herself in.

The room she had shared all her life with Erica had changed.  It was now a single bedroom for one person.  One bed, one chest of drawers... a room for one person, not a twin. 

Jumping out of bed, she looked around for Erica then bursting out of her room stopped in shock.  The tiny little house she shared with her family was gone and she was now in some kind of mansion.  "Happy birthday Princess" banners coated the walls and dashing down the unfamiliar marble staircase, Irene ran into the kitchen and stood still in shock.

"Mmmmh, morning sis. Happy birthday."

Erica grinned as she licked birthday cake from her fingers and stretched like a cat in her slutty blue lingerie. She looked amazing, her flawless new body thrumming with excitement.  Flicking her blonde hair back with a bitchy giggle she looked at her sister with contempt. "Fucking hell, I'm SO glad I don't look like THAT anymore."

"Er... Erica?" stuttered Irene in horror.

"Haha, that's right loser. Our wish came true," sneered Erica as she took another piece of cake and licked it from her long nailed fingers.  "Mmmmh, I'm now the most popular girl in town and EVERYONE fears me.  Including you."

Irene felt herself shake as she realised it was true.  She WAS scared of Erica now and she felt an aching loss as she realised her twin had betrayed her and moved beyond her.  Her new body looked so powerful and sexy.  Irene felt a sudden pang of jealousy, she wished she looked like that. She wished she had tits like that.  As if reading her mind, Erica suddenly grabbed her own tits and squeezing them laughed at her sisters shocked face.

"I can read you like a book Irene. You wish you had this body don't you?  Well let me tell you, this body is SO fucking good and I feel amazing.  I always wanted to be more popular and sluttier than you and now I have it all. I'm rich, spoiled and bratty. As you can see our family has gone up in the world, but too bad for you our parents only care about me - so you don't get to have any of it."

Dropping down from the counter with a clop of high heels, Irene backed away as she realised her sister towered over her now. Erica's boobs were level with Irene's face and the other girl backed away intimidated as Erica advanced on her.

"A little quirk of the wish, is that you're the only one besides myself who remembers what really happened.  You're the only one unaffected.  That means you get the delight of always knowing what I've become and living in jealousy forever."

Touching her body, Erica leered at her sister. "Now scram loser. I have a couple of guys coming over to help me celebrate my birthday.  I'll be busy all morning, but you can do my chores and your own in the time you have."

Strutting away, Erica grinned.  "You'll never know how good this feels loser, thanks for helping me achieve ascendance."

Tears running down her face, Irene watched her former twin sister walk off to start her life of spoiled debauchery, all the time wishing that it could be her instead...

THE END

[skzhocomments]

I can read your smile - Choi Minho SHINee Fanfic - Chapter 12 - A heartbreaking past

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

Wattpad | AO3

Chapter 11 | Chapter 13

---

Chapter 12 - A heartbreaking past

word count: 2k words

~Crystal's POV~

Well, that went well. I grimaced taking back the two plates to the kitchen.

My other co-worker came to me and laughed. I bet he could barely wait to make fun of me.

"So, did the guy you like who came with another girl reject your free dessert?" He mocked.

"Guy I like? Where did that come from?" I asked with venom in my voice.

"Come on, Crystal, it's obvious."

"How is that obvious?"

"The way you look at him." He shrugged.

"And what is that way?"

"Come on, it's so obvious you're in love with the guy, it's painful at this point. You've been looking at their table the whole time, and it's like there's hearts in your eyes when you watch him. Not that hard to notice."

"We are just friends."

"Crystal, people don't look at friends the way you look at him. Be honest with yourself."

"You might just be really delusional." I started. "I don't have feelings for him. And he has a girlfriend."

"I think you're the delusional one, bestie." He shrugged and left, and I took a spoonful of the cake and ate it spitefully. It tasted good, at least, even if the taste in my mouth was bitter.

Fuck Julia.

Seeing her brought back all the negative feelings from my past, and I started feeling really shitty.

I couldn't wait for my shift to be over, but I had two more hours to go.

Oh, and I still have to take the check back to their table and see that bitch again.

~

My feet were killing me and I was unusually tired by the end of my shift.

I quickly grabbed my jacket – it tended to get cold during September nights – and I made my way out of the restaurant.

"Crystal?" A familiar voice spoke, and I turned my head in its direction.

"Minho? What are you doing here?"

"I came to pick you up..."

"Why? What happened to your date?" I raised a brow.

"About that... I'm so sorry, Crystal. I was wrong about her..."

"You don't have to apologise to me."

"I do... I had no idea you two shared a past together..."

"What, did she actually tell you anything?" I chuckled bitterly.

I really hated remembering that time of my life.

"Let's go home and talk. What do you say?"

I nodded and we started walking home together in silence, breathing in the night air.

At one point, a cold wind brushed past us, and I started to shiver. Minho then took his coat off and put it on my shoulders, and I thanked him, and I tried not to think about him, or Julia.

At least not until we got home.

~

"Okay. What did she tell you?" I smiled as we sat down on the sofa in the living room, Minho bringing me a hot cup of tea.

"Just that her family fostered you for a while, but you weren't a great fit..." he hesitated, and I let out a big sigh.

"Yea. I guess that's the gist of it. I was a spoiled child who didn't fit in, so they sent me back." I laughed.

"But what's the truth?" Minho spoke softly and touched my hand with his, and I let him hold it. It was warm.

"Do you really want to know?" I looked into his eyes, and he nodded. "We're going to be here for hours."

"That's fine. We'll sleep in tomorrow." He smiled kindly, and I brushed away two stray tears that made their way on my cheeks.

"Okay. I've never told anyone this story before, so... it might be a bit hard... to tell it."

"It's okay." His thumb rubbed circles on my knuckles in a comforting way.

---

~Flashback~

~12 years ago~

"She's such a smart little girl!" Mrs. Lewis said and touched the back of my head.

I never liked Mrs. Lewis. She was always kind when people were around, but as soon as they left, she would grab the Discipline Stick and hit my palms hard, and sometimes the soles of my feet, until they bled. I could never run during Sports the next day, and the teacher would get really angry and scream at me, and the sports teacher was old, and scary. I didn't like him either.

"Oh, is that so? We see she has perfect marks in maths-" The woman spoke, but was soon interrupted by the man next to her that was holding her hand.

"And she's already learning an advanced curriculum, even if she's only 9?!"

"Indeed, she's a really sharp-witted child." Mrs. Lewis complimented me.

"Oh, isn't that perfect, dear?" The woman teared up, and the man just nodded eagerly.

"She would get along with our little princess so well!"

"It would be a good environment to grow up in." Mrs. Lewis approved, and they signed some papers, and the next thing I knew, I was in the back of their car heading somewhere far away.

~

I now have to refer to Mr. and Mrs. Lee as 'dad' and 'mom', and they told me on the way 'home' that I now have a sister called Julia, and that I have to love her, and play with her whenever she wants, and also teach her things, because she is not as academically gifted, whatever that means.

Julia is cute, and she has blond curls that are hanging proudly over her shoulders. They are so different from my straight, black hair. She would always say 'I am beautiful, and you're not, but that's okay, because we are sisters.' and then we'd play until dawn.

I love Julia.

And she loves me too.

And I love playing with someone my age.

Kids at the orphanage are either older or younger than me, but me and Julia are both 9, and we play with her dolls. She has so many! I've never seen so many in my life!

If I'm nice to her, she lets me play.

Mom and Dad love me too. They feed me every day, and they are happy if I get a good grade.

I have a nice family, and I am happy.

~

~11 years ago~

"What do you mean, she stole your puppet?" Mom is frowning.

"I haven't stolen anything!" I defend myself. "I don't even like that puppet!"

"Shut your mouth, Christine. Don't interrupt us when we speak!" Dad is screaming at me. But why? I haven't stolen anything.

"My name is Crystal, not Christine." I mutter under my breath. I hate it when they call me Christine. They say Crystal is a bad name. 'It's the name of a whore', they say, and we'll change it if they adopt me.

If.

"No, it's not!" Mom slaps me, and my cheek hurts and gets red immediately.

Julia is crying, still claiming that I stole her puppet.

I didn't, but they don't want to believe me.

~

~10 years ago~

"You're old enough now, why aren't you more responsible?!" Dad shouts. I don't understand why he's so upset. I got 90%. It's a good grade.

"Look, Daddy! I got full marks!" Julia smiles happily.

"Just as expected from my princess! See, Christine? You could've done better. We used to think you're smarter than this."

"But I did her project too." I frown. "She got full marks off my work."

"What did you just say?" Dad gets up from the table.

Oh-oh. That's bad.

I start running away, realising too late that he is in a bad mood today. He catches me by the hair, and I scream, so he grabs my mouth and squeezes hard.

I shut up.

"Julia, darling, will you bring daddy the wooden paddle?"

"NO!" I start crying this time. I know what that means.

Julia smirks at me.

She is happy.

She loves seeing me get hurt. Says she hates me getting attention.

That's why she hid the puppet in my room one year ago, when Mom stopped loving me and hit me for the first time.

She brings the paddle, and Dad bends me over the table and hits me as hard as he can.

I wince in pain, and I scream, and cry, and cry, and cry, but he doesn't care. He hits me again.

And again.

And again.

It hurts walking afterwards, and I can no longer sit down, or lay on the bed on my back. I have to lay on my tummy instead.

When I look in the mirror the next morning, there are big bruises on my butt, and I know it's going to take a while for them to go away.

It's still sore, but I can at least sit down in school now.

I don't tell anyone, but I cry myself to sleep for two weeks afterwards, until the bruises fade away.

Mom checks them.

Once they're gone, Julia does something, or says something, and Dad gets angry again, and he hits me with the paddle or with the bath brush.

It hurts.

It hurts.

It hurts.

~

~9 years ago~

"We are sorry to hear this one's been giving you trouble." Mrs. Lewis says and smacks the back of my head.

I no longer cry when being hit, and I don't move away.

I know better now.

"She is a monster!" Mom – no, Mrs. Lee says.

"She is a compulsive liar, a troublemaker, and she doesn't fit in with our perfect family!" Mr. Lee shouts. "We can't believe you raised such a horrible child!"

"Apologies, Mr. Lee. We promise you we're going to take care of her bad behaviour."

She sends me to the "Discipline room" - a fancy word for the cellar, and I am only given water and bread until I 'learn my lesson'.

But what is there to learn?

They let me out after two weeks, and Mrs. Lewis tells me I'm 'damaged goods' now. No one is going to want to adopt me with my record. I am just wasting the orphanage's money. I won't accomplish anything with my life.

I'm going to live under that roof until I'm 18, then I'm going to leave and never see them again.

That sounds good.

I don't want Mrs. Lewis to be right about me, so I will only focus on studying, and I will go to university and get a good job.

Yes, it sounds like a good plan.

I will endure the beatings, the hunger pangs and Mrs. Lewis' mean remarks, and I will study, and study, and study, until I move away.

~

~End of flashback~

---

"Crystal... I'm so sorry... I don't even know what to say..." Minho teared up and hugged me tightly.

"You wanted to know..." I spoke, crying as well.

"I did. I'm so glad you trusted me enough to tell me..."

"I just... it was so hard to understand why they did that... It felt like there was a huge gaping hole in my soul that was bleeding out sorrow and hurt, and I just couldn't comprehend what I did that was so bad."

"You didn't do anything. You were just a kid."

"I'm so sorry, Minho. You were so excited about Julia..."

"Who cares about her? Don't even think about her anymore, ever. She or her piece of shit family don't deserve to be even a passing thought in your mind." He caressed the back of my hair and held me tight.

I closed my eyes.

He smelled comforting. I haven't even opened his room while he was gone, not wanting to invade his privacy, and it felt so horrible to have his smell disappear from this house and be replaced with mine.

I missed his smell.

I missed him.

"I'm glad you're back." I whispered and hugged him tighter.

"Me too. I missed talking to you."

He let go and we looked at each other for a while, and it was the sea incident all over again, so instead of being foolish like last time and trying to kiss him, I averted my eyes first, not daring to cross yet another boundary and go through another rejection.

We were simply friends, and that was fine.

He heard me out.

It was the first time I ever told someone my story, and what abuse I've been through, and he paid attention, and held my hand, and hugged me tightly and cried with me.

That was good enough. I am content that this was the only type of relationship we were ever going to have.

That was okay.

"It's already 3 AM." I chuckled, wiping away the remaining tears that were still streaming down my face.

"Time goes by quickly in good company." Minho smiled, and I just nodded.

"Let's go to sleep." I stood up and stretched my arms with a yawn. Crying was tiring.

---

Chapter 11 | Chapter 13

[iwoulddieforienzo]

ienzo and vanitas study! im curious

HOKAY so I'm not sure I can give you a Study. per se. Because I personally don't really Understand Vanitas on a deep level and I tend to think of him in terms of what he represents(?) for other characters. BUT I WILL TALK ABOUT SOME THOUGHTS I HAVE ABOUT THEM. below the cut bc this got Long and Rambly

SO. the Big Thing that Vanitas and Ienzo have in common is their lives being completely and utterly dictated by The Same Guy. Mr. Xehanort himself. GRANTED Ienzo also had to contend with his shitty dad polycule but at the core of it all, they were both used and manipulated by a man who fully expected both of them to die, who wanted at least Vanitas to die, and lost any childhood they could have had in his infinite pursuit of Kingdom Hearts. Both of them were very, very young when Xehanort stole their identities and bodies and set them on a futile quest to get back what was theirs, all while working for/seemingly being at least partially raised by the man who killed them in the first place. Both of them are in a shaky, uncomfortable place at the end of KH3 (assuming that Vani reforms) where neither of them knows who they are or what they want. Neither of them knows how to be a person, and neither of them have ever really wanted to know, but they're being forced into it because all the people who controlled their lives, whether indirectly or directly, have completely fucked off, rejected them, died, or decided that they were going to be a Good Boy now. And neither of them can handle it!

Vanitas spent his entire existence desperately trying to re-fuse with Ventus. Vanitas would rather fade into darkness than exist independently. But now he has to exist on his own and contend with the fact that his entire being is based on someone who does not want him and everything he has ever done was futile. He's angry and tired and hurt. What scraps of an identity he built for himself were all based on spite and Ventus. So now what.

Ienzo, too, has never really had an identity. I think it really says something that Ienzo can't really conceptualize the idea that he was too young to have any fault for what happened at Radiant Garden. Obviously there's a couple reasons for that, but the one that's important here, I think, is that the only thing he had to define himself at the time was his intellect and the fact that he was, technically, a scientist. He ran around in a little lab coat and was involved in experiments; of course baby him thought he was a coworker instead of purely a ward. He was too little to have even figured out if he liked sports, never mind that he seemed traumatized even back then. Xehanort DID NOT HELP, and it is very likely that Ienzo was groomed by him. (not for sexual reasons, mind, just his utter loyalty). And then he was stripped of his heart and emotions for the next 10 years. All he knows about Ienzo is that he was a smart scientist who caused the fall of Radiant Garden, so that's who he is now that he's whole again. And this is an impression he got from the other apprentices, not any memory he has of being Ienzo.

Moreover, thanks to Xehanort (and basically every other Adult at the time) both Vanitas and Ienzo think that they're fundamentally broken in some way, incapable of ever being fully human in any meaningful way, and evil beyond saving. How they respond to this is different, of course, with Vani choosing to embrace being The Bad One as spitefully as he can while Ienzo just silently turns all his anger towards Everything inward.

So. Where does that leave them?

Vanitas, I think, would find himself infinitely frustrated by Ienzo's passive acceptance of everything that happened to him. Vanitas is bitter and angry, all the time. He's known that his life was messed up from the moment he came into existence, has hated his Master from the moment he was capable of it, but went along with the ride because he had an end goal and Xehanort, seemingly, could get him to it. I think he sees himself in Ienzo, willingly being strung along by whoever has grabbed his leash despite how he really ""should know better"" (in Vanitas' deeply questionable opinion). I think he'd also be bitter that Ienzo got to be whole again while Vanitas will never be whole (again, in his deeply questionable opinion) and how he seems to have his shit figured out (more than Vanitas, anyway). But I also think he feels a weird sort of.. kinship? responsibility? over this kid who is so much like him. He can kind of sense Ienzo's secret rage, and sympathizes (um. in a distinctly Vanitas way) with Ienzo's fear of keyblades. Buuuut.... hes also, just a little, frightened of him. Because Ienzo is powerful, and dangerous, and the only thing keeping him from being Zexion again is Ienzo's manufactured guilt and common decency. Vanitas could physically fight off any Organization member, but there's hardly anything he can do about illusions.

Ienzo, meanwhile, would probably like Vanitas well enough? Ienzo doesn't really let himself have opinions, not unless hes talking to his shitty dad polycule, so what exactly he thinks about Vanitas can be hard to extrapolate. But he does find himself mildly frustrated by Vanitas' inability to take responsibility for his own actions - Vani continues to struggle to see himself as a complete person and tends to blame others for the things he does. In a, "Ventus refused to fuse with me so all the pain I inflict on his friends is his fault" kind of way. (But of course, this comes more from Ienzo's need to take on responsibility for everything bad that happened ever rather than any moral frustration with Vanitas' actions) But, Ienzo's used to dealing with jackasses, and is more comfortable around rude assholes than he is kind and polite people, so he doesn't mind Vanitas' Attitude. Ienzo likes that Vanitas is so straightforward about what he wants, and doesn't bother having any secret intentions (unless he wants to start a fight). Ienzo, having grown up as a heartless creature of the Dark, is more comfortable with Darkness anyway. (And Darkness is more comfortable with him, but that's another story.) But Also. A very large part of him is Immoral Scientist so while hes trying VERY HARD to be Polite about it I do think he is tempted to strap Vani down to his vivisection table, and is generally fascinated with his existence.

On a nicer note I think that Vani met baby Ienzo, though I’m not sure when. Not for very long, probably just wondering why his floods were gently inspecting this kid and being inspected in return. I also think that they’d be very good friends. I tend to gently push the two of them together in aus when I can, and I think they’d be surprisingly good for each other!

Vani’s like “where’s your FIRE where’s your RAGE you were WRONGED, you should BITE PEOPLE ABOUT IT!!!” and Ienzo keeps him in check while also not trying to fundamentally change him or even really make him “nicer”. Vanitas, I think, would be very curious about the world once he reforms but weary of being around anyone associated with the Light, and he knows they don’t like him and it’s mutual, but that doesn’t mean he appreciates being hated everywhere he goes. But Ienzo doesn’t hate him, and in fact, seems to rather like him, and is happy to answer any questions Vani may have about anything. He doesn’t seem to want anything out of Vanitas other than to ask some questions about his existence every so often. Most of the time, my sort of.. headcanon, I suppose, though it’s more like a fun scenario, of how they meet again and become friends is that Vani sort of slinks around Radiant Garden for Light Warrior Reasons and Ienzo, who can smell him and therefore always knows when he’s nearby, starts sloooooowly gaining his trust by being overall very friendly and polite but keeping his distance. Vani’s like a weird, spicy little stray cat and Ienzo is metaphorically (but also sometimes physically) feeding him until he follows him home and refuses to leave. I think they’d figure out how to Person together, with Ienzo helping Vani discover what he is outside of Ventus & Xehanort while Vani pushes Ienzo into unpacking his emotions about his fucked up life and breaking free of his self-inflicted stifling of himself. They’re shockingly functional! (and also touch starved as hell and I like to imagine Vanitas randomly deciding to latch onto Ienzo and refusing to let go. Ienzo doesn’t even care he’s just like “hi Vanitas :)” and moves on with his day with a whole ass gremlin attached to him. They’re sillayyy)

Sorry for getting back to you late I completely passed out after writing the opening :,D hopefully this makes sense lol. boy howdy this is Long but I hope it’s at least kind of what you were looking for??

[dk-tsar]

I'm really just. Done? Kinda. I'm really just done. I don't know. I'm starting to look at everyone spitefully. Maybe not because they've done something to specifically hurt me, but whatever they do *does* feel like that. I'm starting to realize I'm not really needed as a person and that I should've been dead a long, long time ago. There's no point in me being here anymore and that's genuinely becoming really obvious to me, personally. I feel like I just bother people by my mere existence. All the "I love you"s I've heard have been fake all along,and I'm only making sense to myself. I'm tired. I'm tired of bothering people. I'm tired of being so annoying. I'm tired of being so angry and sad all the time. I'm tired of doing the most for people to give the least of care about me. I hope whenever I die my things will go to my two only friends and that they'll be shared equally. I think that and getting buried with a cat skull to have a bit of my dead cat would be the only things I'd want after death. I don't want to be this way anymore. I hope that if I actually go through with everything, everyone will end up being happy in the end.

I hope everything I've done to wrong my parents will be forgiven. I'm sorry for getting born to a family that didn't want me to begin with, and I'm sorry my mom's pregnancy was untimely and I'm sorry the abortion my mom tried to have didn't work and I'm sorry I was born healthy and didn't die after my birth like my siblings have hoped. I'm sorry for being such a moody bitch who's never happy with anything and anyone. I'm sorry I demand so many things of them. I'm sorry to my sister that had to put up with me annoying her for so long during my childhood and after and I'm sorry to my brother for not contacting him for so long ♡. I hope they can all get over it like adults.

I hope my friends can get over it as well and get the support they need to also get over me being so angry at them all the time. I'm sorry I get so upset at everything and I'm sorry everything triggers me and I'm sorry they had to deal with me being so sensitive and emotional and overall destructive of both my own self and of the things and relationships surrounding me. I hope my things will somehow make up for the gaps that I've managed to create in their hearts over the span of our friendships due to me being an emotional and manipulative bitch. I'm sorry for never seeming to care enough or never paying enough attention. I'm sorry for being so emotionally numb all the time and I'm sorry for my unwillingness to hear other people out because I thought I was smarter than everyone. I hope they can take their time to heal everything and I'm sorry they ever had to lay eyes upon me and meet me and I'm sorry I didn't say I love them enough or that I didn't act like it.

I hope the day I'll go on will be peaceful. I hope I can pass in my sleep if possible. I hope what money I'll have left after this can be donated to some organization or something, and I hope my things will still be usable for years to come and I hope they'll somehow be handy. Or that they'll give some sort of emotional compensation, at least. I hope after death I can stop bothering people and I can spend time with my cat. Whatever days follow after this I'll keep my mouth shut about whatever plans I have and I'll stop being annoying so my friends can possibly have a peaceful last few days before "disaster struck". I loved and will continue to love everyone I've ever met and I hope that will continue to be a known thing after my death, too.

[ra-tutubixi]

A Chronicle of the Ways in Which Upturned Canoe Mountain Has Wronged Me

i've had to write this whole parable two and a half times now. fuck you too, tumblr (lovingly).

anyway

i was writing a not-so-small post on architectural calendarics that i'll eventually share here, and i'd gone pretty well all things considered, even with exams and whatnot massively slowing things down. but Toluquilla posed a perfect storm of problems i was not prepared for.

see, before it, most of the calendarics i'd researched and digested were Horizon Calendarics. what are Horizon Calendarics? Horizon Calendarics are when you align a building or smth in one to a certain feature of the horizon, be it a prominent peak or a noticeable dip, and put the thing at just the right angles and distances to sort of create a calendar that tracks the movement of a celestial body, with notches or protrusions on important dates or period boundaries.

cool shit right?

up until this point, i'd done a fair few descriptions and put a few images to illustrate what i'm talking about. obviously i hate myself and i'm working with relatively less popular or outright obscure sites, but decided to work first with the better known and gradually crawl down to lesser-known ones.

Ranas and Toluquilla are very cool sites i'll eventually talk about, but i decided to do them for two reasons:

they both have described architectural calendarics

i love the sierra and i want others to love it as well

i'm no scholar. i am good at boiling dense info down into equally dense but more accessible terms and can compile much, but i don't know shit about astronomy, much less about calculating dates and azimuths and stuff.

for historical contexts and... just about everything that's not mercury poisoning (yes, really), there's very limited information on the region. like things do come up on google scholar, but they're either very old, impossible to get, or obtuse references to the previous both.

yet fortunately again, there is a book on alignments.

Orientaciones astronómicas en la arquitectura de Mesoamérica: Occidente y Norte was so very useful for Ranas after i finished the history bits. it uses fairly complex language, but the times it describes are easy to comprehend, albeit the text is a little ambiguous where it doesn't need to be.

in retrospect, the same can be said for Toluquilla, but nighttime me does badly with texts that cannot decide what numbers are most important to mention and where to mention them.

the crux of the issue came in the last few lines, which are essentially a lightning round of "things we tried but we don't know how to order them" and which contain a single word i didn't know. azimuth didn't scare me, especially not with the little degree sign, but the word orto had an unknown i couldn't parse out immediately. hablo bien la castilla, formal y mi variante local, pero no sé de términos tan astronómicos porque nunca se me ocurrió buscarlos. es mi primera vez viéndola.

being too knocked out to remember that Wiktionary is a thing that exists but just conscious enough to decide that attempting incredibly complex calculations was a good idea, i delved into inah's rough map of the site and a website that could output the different angles at which sunrise and sunset happened in relationship to the north of a given site for a day or in a datasheet for the year.

"there's probably some mountains that i can read," said a naïve me, full of hubris and thinking that the authors were wrong or something. with what little i could pick up, i learned that the Temple of the Second Ballcourt is the place with the alignments, and as such picked it for my own purposes.

the foremost problem showed up when i couldn't find a tool to get those sorta elevation heatmaps but in relative elevation to just grab a pic and overlay enough lines and circles to see where there could reasonably exist an axis, one of the most recurrent points that Horizon Calendarics use, or notable extremes, another set of points that define the most northern and most southern sunsets and sunrises.

"oh well, i'll just use peakvisor and check a range of angles to see if anything comes up." reasonable to a point, ig.

instead of grabbing my protractor, i used a fairly accurate but still very prone to error method of using a compass to measure the difference in angle from north of a given line. i don't have a compass, let alone one at hand and one with guides, so i used my very prone-to-sliding phone's compass and did a relatively good job at it, only some 5 degrees off. i shouldn't be celebrating this. ...anyway

i got the datasheet for the solar angle and got the minimum and maximum ones from all sunrises and sunsets. i was eventually left with four numbers, maximum and minimum sunrise and sunset azimuths.

i plotted these on desmos into lines (y = xcos ß btw), along with the flawed alignment and the perpendicular (y= x / cos ßa), and lo and behold i got something that looked like an alignment.

[blue line close close to purple line is the perpendicular; lrA is minimum rising] needless to say i was excited. i got something, different of course, but not too different.

then i checked the date for that minimal — June the 23rd and 24th. it's close to the solstice, about 2 or 3 days off. i went onto the calculator that projected minimals and maximals per day and... the result was off by about 5 degrees further — indeed, the minimal absolute was on the 22nd, @ 64.45°...

the line was off, and for large large distances like actual sunrise this is bad.

by now it was the morning and i was much more open to the possibility of failure, so i turned to read again, fresh and full of energy...

all this was useless to me. i already had my answer and i could've avoided all this extra strain if i had only slept a bit. literally, in the first few sentences it says the dates and the way in which the site can be read: it, along with its Ballcourt and the city's First Ballcourt, is pointed towards April 30th and August 13th's sunrises. notably, these are very close if not outright identical (these were calculated with actual formulae by actually knowledgeable people, but calculations, as they are, are still prone to a little deviancy sometimes; alternatively, they could be a nod but not a total homage) to the aligned sunsets of Teotiwakan's Pyramid of the Sun, April 29th and August 12th~13th.

instead of considering for a minute that maybe it wasn't a Horizon Calendaric but a Staked Calendaric (similar to the other one, but uses "stakes" or just a few closer landmarks to indicate the date, much like E-groups further south), i was too stubborn to even consider it. i even approached the point and almost changed my viewpoint, but no, no, it was too jarring at the time.

i then looked up orto on wiktionary and lo and behold, it fucking means sunrise.

with this cleared up, i was able to read the last few lines, lines which say that the Temple of the First Ballcourt have another alignment, for the 27th of May and the 18th of July. these seem like unusual at first, and indeed, one is displaced by 27 (april->may) and the other by 26 (july->august) days. however, the number 13 is a bit of a motif in mesoamerican stuffs, and in this case lends credence to this separation seeing as 26 is a multiple of 13. the 27 is likely intentional, as total symmetry seems a tad secondary to the Classic Sierra Gorda people — in the sister city of Ranas, which does use Horizon Calendarics, the count for one of its two timereader temples is of 140 days, while for the other it's 145~146, with two gaps of 40 between their tailends to complete the whole year.

so far we have 105 days accounted for by the four stakes, 13*8 + 1 (possibly 1 more sometimes to account for the extra decimals accumulating).

the other 260 are hidden at the other side of the Temple of the 2nd Ballcourt, which has sunset stakes in february 9th and november first — each tailend is gapped by 80 days, multiples of the important 20-day concept, and between the two stakes there are 100 more, completing our cycle neatly.

take this as a cautionary tale. i was open to many things, to different ways of counting times, but i was so tired and so infatuated with Ranas' (and primordially by Kwikwilko and T'ajin's) way that i forgot the sheer diversity inside the continent. in a way i was Horizon-centric, and now i know better.

but hey, everything's better than being eurocentric :^)

[trials-by-blood]

Umm...I always see Yautja being paired up with someone strong and skilled and stuff. I was wondering if you could write something with any Yautja being with someone who is shy, meek, and a little chubby. And when they're alone or think they are they sing along to music and dance even though they can't.XD Sorry if I'm asking too much or anything...

Fegris, the dump world where the unwanted are left to rot and crumble.

  This was once a world where the yautja would crash their obsolete vessels so that they could not fall into use by the other space faring races. Ships were not the only things they left behind. Exiles, heretics, or anyone who upset the balance of their society were also left to wither, but not all did.

  In the following ages, other peoples would use Fegris as a place to forget their burdens. The Faceless Ones unloaded their collected specimens here when science deemed that their time of usefulness had ended.

  Now generations of humans, yautja, clade, mind eaters and all manner of invasive species build their cities here, clinging to half remembered mockeries of their mother cultures. Here, all Forgotten busy themselves mining ore, seeking pleasurable escape, stripping precious metals from ancient wrecks, gambling, farming, extorting, building, destroying, breeding, killing.

  One of the few honest livings to be made anywhere, the food service industry, prospers here. Organic people must eat, so this work will never die.

  Heather, an old name from an old world no one can recall, worked for her room and board at what would best resemble a mall food court. It wasn't a particularly hazardous occupation, so long as you don't taste-test the food or stay long after the coalition of retail outlets close.

(OOC: Okay this ran WAY longer than I anticipated and I had to make the choice to cap it off at 2,500ish words. I’m sorry if this TOTALLY misses the vibe you were hoping for, I kinda got carried away. Oops)

  Once, she'd made that mistake. Even her cold hearted rock-sucker of a boss told her not to bother finishing the cleaning if it meant staying after hours, but she hadn't listened. Heather hadn't wanted to leave her work half done and risk losing her job and newly acquired living space on her first day. So she'd stayed to wipe down the counters and load the trolly cart with the leftovers for the cooler. The reward for a job well finished was stepping out into the market spaces abandoned by customers and workers but repopulated by the local Yautja Bad-bloods and their rivals, The Cranium Skaggers. They were working through a territorial dispute.

  The Skaggers were human, but barely. They injected enhancement serums, most barely tested, directly into their brain tissues via an implanted port installed at the top of their shaved heads.

  Heather had stepped out of her safe enclosed little work area into a street brawl, and was pinned between the doors she'd only just locked and the carnal violence of the city. One of the yautja, who's vision was... not like hers, must have mistaken her bright heat signature and rapid heart rhythm for a Cranium Skagger.

  Oh, she tried to run when she saw him move on her with his unhuman, talon tipped hand outstretched to seize her. Heather had dropped her bag, the keys, the silly hat which matched with her uniform, and she ran but he was fast, so horridly fast for something so big, heavy, and grieved with bulky armor.

  It only took him three strides, thud thud thud, to reach her and tangle his terrible claws into the back of her long tunic. She was thrown, landing hard, disoriented and crying out as deep, raw pain shot up her left hip and into her pelvis. Something was broken.

  She saw him, her attacker, and the blades attached to his dominant arm glistening with the blood of Cranium Skagger's, but she didn't even think to cover her face. All she could do was scream for help.

  Her plea was answered. A great clawed fist smashed across the Yautja's mask with such force that his yowling face was revealed as his helm was torn from him. Next, skulls collided with a clapping of flesh so sharp, Heather thought someone had cracked a whip above her.

  One Yautja had begun to fight another. That was when she did the sensible thing, curling her arms over her head and making herself as small as she could.

  She survived that night. That battle resolved itself as she lied on the ground trembling and weeping in terror, but her savior stuck around after all the others had left. He put her things next to her, and waited until her boss came to collect her and get her help. The yautja must have gone through her communicator for her contacts.

  The fractured hip was easily and painlessly repaired but the procedure had completely drained her savings. To her shock and mild horror, someone had wired to her account credits in the exact amount to replace what she'd spent at the Urgent Intervention Facility to fix her leg.

  When she returned to work, who was there at the food court? The yautja who'd stayed that night. He stood out like a broken finger, the cleaned hand bones and torn out skull ports of Skaggers littered about what he wore like grim badges of honor. The sight of him watching her enter her workplace sent a chill up Heather's spine.

  This kept up for weeks, until The Indecent was months behind her. She'd go to work, and he'd be there, just watching. Heather's co-workers weren't fans of her admirer. Yagon, the young clade boy who took the morning shift before her was the least fond of the yautja lingering around.

  Today, as Heather stepped past her bad-blood observer who had decided to lean against the wall next to the employee entrance, Yagon was peeking out from the door to keep a watchful eye on her as she came in for her shift.

  Yagon chittered irritably, antennae vibrating as he took off his smock and hat so he could scratch his double claws at the translator hanging on a lanyard around his the joining of his head and thorax.

  The voice emanating from the little box was monotone and purposefully slow so that it could be heard clearly as he continued chirping and tweeting.

  "You know what that creep does all day waiting for you to come in? He listens to recordings of you singing on your shifts."

  Heather cringed. That was creepy. She'd had a feeling that he'd been able to hear her sing to herself from where he usually hung around, but she never thought he'd record her. It felt incredibly invasive. She briefly imagined confronting him about it, but thought better of it. He could crush her skull between his hands as if it were a brittle little Skitterling egg. She hunched her shoulders and hugged herself a bit.

  Yagon then turned and dropped the claws of his primary arms on her shoulders.

  "I can file an anonymous report for you. Please? I don't want to come in to work one day and find out something happened to you."

  Heather sighed, trying not to vividly imagine how an exiled yautja might retaliate to that.

  "N- no, I think that would just make things worse, Yagon," Heather tried not to whimper.

  Yagon finished folding his smock and hat into his bag and left, but not before offering twice more to file that report.

  A few hours passed and Heather caught herself singing a handful of times as she fell into her work routine but always stopped when she remembered who was listening. It felt awful, being observed so closely and denied the personal freedom do anything without fear of having it recorded for some stranger's entertainment.

  Again, she thought about confronting the yautja watcher, but couldn't help the violent catastrophes imagined with the idea.

  She felt like she couldn't make a noise or do a thing for herself to make this crappy job the least bit bearable without putting on some bizarre show for Captain Cranium Crusher out there! Heather's frustration built and built until she couldn't take it anymore.

  The walk-in cooler. It was sound proof, right? The moment she finished the lunch-rush line of customers holding out their trays for their greasy food, Heather tore off her gloves, tossed them in the general direction of the trash chute and turned on her heel to stomp her way to that cooler door.

  Heather glanced over the counter to confirm the Skull Collecting Jerk was still out there haunting the seating area. There he was, arms crossed against his chiseled chest, ass planted on a chair that could barely hold his weight with his big ugly sandled feet propped up on one of the tables. Bastard.

  She pulled open the thick insulated door and slammed it behind her. First she simply bellowed angrily, stomped her foot, slapped a bag of single serve condiments as hard as she could manage, doing anything to break the severe edge from her frustration.

  "UGH! WHY ARE YOU EVEN HERE? WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!" She tore off her work smock and threw her hat on the floor to stomp on it, "I'M JUST A SHORT, ROUND, NOBODY WHO SHOVELS SLOP ONTO PLATES SIX HOURS A DAY. I'VE NEVER EVEN BEEN IN A REAL FIGHT! I'M NOTHING! WHY ARE YOU WATCHING ME? WHAT THE FUCK COULD BE SO INTERESTING ABOUT ME?! STOP WATCHING ME, YOU ASSHOLE!"

  Then, spitefully, she sang her favorite song, watching the misty puffs of her breath dissipate as her heart pounded.

  Now, she felt cold and her throat hurt from belting out her very favorite lyrics so harshly. It wasn't fair, she shouldn't have to be reminded of that night every afternoon on her shift. It sucked, and somehow she felt guilty for being angry even though none of this was her fault and she knew she had every right to be angry. So Heather curled up and cried in the cooler for a half-hour at the helplessness she felt. It felt gross, and she knew by now there had to be a never-ending line of pissed off customers outside. She was afraid of confrontation and couldn't ever imagine herself actually standing up to anyone. She could already tell that she'd be crying in her apartment after work too. Whob wouldn't after the verbal abuse she'd no doubt suffer at the service counter from customers tired of waiting.

  Miserably, Heather stood and steeled her resolve to go back out there. With a deep, shaky breath, put her smock back on and fixed her hat.

  "I'll get through it because I'm good at getting through it," she told herself to make it easier to reach for that door.

  Chur-clunk. Chur-clunk. It was jammed. Oh no the cooler door was stuck. Heather put her weight into her next push, then her entire being into the push after that.

  "Oh GODS I'm going to freeze to death!" she wailed, pushing at the door again with everything she had.

  Frustration, anger, helplessness, now panic. She didn't want to die alone of hypothermia at work.

  There was a bang and a great dent had appeared in the thick door. Before she could figure what was happening, the door was torn completely from the reinforced hinges. Heather shrieked and fell squarely on her bottom.

  There he was again, who else would it be coming to her rescue and staring coldly down at her through the dead lenses of that helmet.

  In one swift motion he lifted his left arm and clicked away at the keys of his gauntlet computer with those claws. The hologram display showed Heather a collection of files marked with icons she recognized. They were just cropped, slightly fuzzy pictures of her name tag for work. With a few more taps of his claw, all of the icons dissolved. He deleted them. He'd deleted all of his recordings which pertained to her.

  "Oh, shit, you heard all of that," Heather whimpered, clutching her head with both hands in mortification. He must have heard what Yagon said earlier too.

  He said nothing, made no noise. He just stood there like an imposing statue for a few tense seconds before turning to stride away.

  She wasn't fired for the broken door and spoiled food. Before she could even collect herself from the floor in the cooler, her boss was wired a credit transfer for "damages".

  Later as she heard of his generosity, it also explained the mysterious funds appearing in her account after the hip procedure. That had been Him too.

  Her "admirer" didn't come back after that, which was a relief for the first week or two. After a while she found herself over thinking the whole thing. Yautja were notorious for being socially incomprehensible. Heather wondered if he just pitied her so much after one of his own kind damn-near destroyed her that he felt responsible for her continued safety. Or, maybe he was just a stalking sleeze-ball. She tended to flounder between the two conclusions, but one thing was certain, he was respecting her boundaries now and she appreciated that.

  After nearly a month, she decided that the best closure she'd get was accepting that the entire ordeal was some bizarre misunderstanding, totally on his part, and he did a few nice things but that didn't make up for the weeks and weeks of discomfort he'd inflicted.

  More time passed, Heather became more comfortable with her new job, and she very nearly forgot about that Yautja. The only time she remembered him were on cold days when her hip would ache, but it was pleasantly warm out on the afternoon she came in for her shift and found Yagon agitated with his antennae twitching so fast one might expect them to fly off his head. Heather looked around, hoping that the cleaning she couldn't finish the night before hadn't upset him. What she found was... Unusual, and she certainly hadn't left the thing there last night.

  It was a skull, from what she wasn't sure, sitting there on the counter by the check out scanner.

  "The Creep is back. This time he left a name with that." Yagon's translator couldn't read the inflections in his speech, but Heather could tell where the translator omitted expletives.

  "W-hat was it? His name?"

  "Stone Fist was the direct translation. I can't get the translator to say the correct pronunciation in his language and he made a scene about it until I threatened to call security. You know what that thing means, don't you?"

  Heather nodded, she knew what it meant. Everyone did. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the empty sockets of the skull. It was as if it were staring through her being.

  "I can still file that report, Heather," Yagon offered again.

  "Don't, I mean... As long as I don't take it, then nothing happens. Right?"

  "As far as I'm aware? I think that's how it works."

  If Heather didn't touch it, he wouldn't come back. If she took it home, he'd follow her home because accepting an offering like that was an act of giving permission to pursue courtship.

  Working with that lifeless skull watching her was eerie to say the least. She covered it with her hat midway through her shift so she didn't have to look at it. At the end of her shift as she fiddled with the patterned key to lock up before she left, she considered the skull one last time. No, She wasn't taking it, but she'd leave a note. Two notes actually, one to ask Stone Fist if he would consider an actual conversation before anything else, and a second note to apologize to Yagon for asking him to speak with Stone Fist again.

To Be Continued?

[gffa]

Hi anon again. I used ellipses, didn't know. I'm sorry. I don't remember what I said exactly but in short part (1/2) was me lamenting how I discussed a Star Wars book on reddit and mentioned, among many other things, that it was sexist. I've been insulted by everyone who bothered to comment for two days now and I'm just tired of this hatred, and rudeness, and hatred of prequels, and hatred of Jedi. And I know it's kind of my fault because

because I should have said it in a gentler way because people like this book and I offered them. But to be honest they got to me. I didn't think they would, but they really managed to hurt my feelings. And I know I sound like a teenager and not an older woman that I am, but I am just so tired of all this negativity and people's first reaction to be cruel. I am glad your Tumblr exists. Sorry for dumping all this on you. 2/2) And they just got so personal and insulting... they got to me. I didn't think they would, but they really hurt me. I just want to crawl away and enjoy Star Wars on my own. I am so tired of insults and attacks about a fictional work that should bring us joy. But I also want to share with others and I just keep on coming back for more. I sound like a teenager finding myself, but I'm an old woman, I should know better. Sorry to bother you but your Tumblr feels like a refuge sometimes. - D.L. 

I’m glad you came back (tumblr is strange, if you don’t know about these things--BECAUSE TUMBLR NEVER TELLS US THESE THINGS, WE HAVE TO FIGURE THEM OUT FOR OURSELVES--there’s no need to apologize, we figure these things out as we go!) but I’m very sorry that you’ve been going through this. As someone who’s been hurt by a lot of the shitty things people have leveled at me in this fandom, my advice is based on what helped me, but hopefully it can help you as well.  If it doesn’t, it doesn’t (it may not for everyone!), I still offer you my sympathy and empathy both.  First off, give yourself permission to be hurt and upset for awhile, take that pressure off yourself to just get over it, because piling extra guilt on will only make it longer.  Recognize that you’re human, you’re going to go through these feelings, it’s part of being a regular thinking person and is the first step to being able to let go. Second, after you have some time letting yourself be upset about it, recognize that these are people who are not worth the time and vulnerability from you.  It still burns when they react like this, Star Wars is a hell fandom, but ultimately they’re not the people you really care about their opinions of you. I get that it’s hard for people to hear criticisms of their favorites, literally everyone is like that, especially when we disagree on what constitutes “valid criticism”, what is valid for one person to level at a book isn’t going to be valid for the next person--the trick is in respecting boundaries, that you can’t overwrite the other person’s view of it, just as they can’t overwrite yours.  And resorting to personal attacks and personal derogatory commentary (which happens a lot in this fandom) is a really shitty thing people do that you have to figure out how you want to deal with it--do you want to fire back? do you want to rise above it? do you want to leave?  I ask these honestly, there’s no right or wrong answer, only the one that will work for you.  (It’s a question I ask myself a lot.  Is it fair that people make shitty vague blogs about me?  No, but they’re going to do so anyway, so what’s my response?  What can I handle?  What do I want to handle?  What’s my response, given that I probably cannot change this about fandom.) Maybe you were more aggressive than you had to be, but that’s still not a reason for them to respond with personal insults.  The only thing that’s on you is to decide what amount of this kind of reaction you can/want to handle, not that you’re responsible for other people’s shitty behavior. One of the major ways I dealt with fandom being so overwhelmingly anti-prequels and anti-Jedi is that I set up my camp here on tumblr, I established my boundaries, I enforced them hard (mostly through blocking because I was not up to pushing back for a long time, but occasionally talking about my personal experiences, being as careful as I could not to be pointing fingers at people, but truly speaking of what it meant for me in my position and what I was going through, trying to always recognize that other people are allowed to disagree with me about opinions on fictional things and they must be respected for that, even if I strongly disagree with them, just as the reverse must be true--or at least I must demand it in interactions I have) and it’s worked out really well. Not everyone in this corner is going to agree with everything I say, I disagree with other pro-Jedi fans on some things, but they’ve been really kind and gracious about seeing things differently that even if it’s something I feel very strongly about, I respect that they disagree and I hope I give that back to them at least half as much. That’s generally my advice--seek out the people you know who also find that book sexist and talk about it (while allowing room for people who disagree, because it’ll make you happier in the long run, as well, but that they do so in a civil sort of way) or make your own posts talking about it, simply because you want to talk about it.  When I started writing pro-Jedi posts, I knew I had to do it because I wanted to do it, not because it was going to win me internet points or whatever, I had to be willing to do it in a vacuum (another question I often have to ask myself:  “If this [project] gets crickets/some sort of bad response, would I still have enjoyed the process of doing it?” and it’s helped me a lot to be honest in that answer) or just seek out people who seem like they’re doing the same thing you want to be doing, redirect your efforts into things you enjoy doing in this fandom, because I promise that “I am spitefully going to double down on how I view this thing” can eventually turn into “I love talking about this thing in this vein just because I love it!” if you focus on what you want to do. And also remember that there can be very cool people on reddit (or any other social media place) but there can also be fucking awful people who are going to be fucking awful and it’s normal that it hurts when you get blasted by them and it’s normal that you want to retreat into a refuge for awhile, I fully support that.  Find what makes you happy, whatever that is, and just crank up the “I love this thing so much I’m gonna BARF RAINBOWS about it!” to the max it can go.  It’ll make you feel better after awhile.  (But give yourself the freedom to be hurt, take that burden off yourself, face that part of it, and eventually it gets easier to let go of it, I hope.  *hugs*  I don’t know if any of this was helpful, but at the very least you have my sympathy and my empathy for how shitty fandom can be sometimes.)