#cause i always thought there was something in me unlike anyone else. but its for lots of us and that was so reassurring

[carmenpeach]

ive said it lots before but i feel its good to talk about on my little blog but its just so weird to me how badly antipsychotics affected me and how long it lasted even after i quit them. on one hand i thought "well i can try it and if i dont like it i can quit and go back to how i was" but i didnt know it would take almost a year to be myself again, and not just in the terms of being insane. i felt like i lost my passion, drawing had little interest in me and it was so hard to draw, i struggled to get out doodles, so much of my sketchbook is half of a simplified face or just odd proportions or weird lines. like back until november 2022 and prior i felt top of my game, i was filling sketchbooks and happy with almost all my drawings and i feel i was as skilled as i needed/ wanted to be, but it was a hard downhill and im still working on getting to that level again. but moreso i lost my passion for everything else too, like i felt detached from my special interests, i hardly played any video games too.

like sure i wasnt paranoid or filled with dread every time it was silent or i was alone for more than 30 seconds and i wasnt hallucinating and my nightmares and insomnia calmed down and i wasnt having panic attacks every day and wasnt constantly angry, but what did it matter if i felt detached from it all. i always thought i didnt want to live like that but i didnt know what it was like to live without it and its weird and i hated it. i remember the exact moment too when it hit too. i think i was just changing my clothes and suddenly this clarity washed over me, and it was so weird and confusing. one way ive always somewhat described my schizophrenia was this feeling, like another me inside of me, right in my spine and the base of my head, right behind me and always there, and i could never figure out the emotion that came from her (not sure why but i/ we used she/ it for her) but it felt something akin to malicious, like in a way it hated me in a way and wanted to be the front center one, like sometimes i could feel it dragging at me like it would win. and so recently a lot of my symptoms have returned but that one still isnt back yet but since ive been slowly regaining my other symptoms im sure itll follow suit. and so this last year ive been in this panic over this, since that was always a part of me as long as i can remember, this other me. and to have that ripped away i feel like an empty person. she was literally half of me and its lonely now. like i know this is a silly way to say it and i sound like a cartoon character, but its kinda quiet up there. but i hate it. so ive spent this last year feeling like my identitiy as a person was just washed away and suddenly i was a new person in a way, and just being so scared ill never be who i was again. i even spent a good chunk of time trying to trigger psychotic episodes but to no avail. all that to say is, im almost myself again and i dont feel so miserible being different now that im getting back to how i was, and im not worried this other half wont return since now i know it will

[shiny-jr]

from POMEFIORE

- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader. 

- Characters: Vil Schoenheit, Rook Hunt, Epel Felmier.

- Summary: (Continuation, after this “we just got a letter, wonder where it’s from”) You have barred them from entering the safety of Ramshackle Dorm, but they are determined to make their words reach you. Which is why the letters begin arriving at your doorstep.

- Note: Hoping its not too out of character.

Ignihyde   |   Pomefiore   |   Scarabia

Perfume. The carefully sealed envelope reeked of it, like the sweet smell of lavender with spice. The envelope containing the message looked like something you would find when getting an invitation to a ball or a wedding. The envelope was pristine, and the wax sealing it was done so perfectly without a single awkward edge.

It almost looked unnatural with how perfect it appeared. The thick beige parchment was cut evenly, and not a blot of ink strayed from the elegantly curved cursive words that looked like ribbons upon the page. Looks could be deceiving. It was beautiful, but as you might've already guessed, the interior didn't entirely match what was hidden beneath the surface.

To my darling player,

I am at fault and take full responsibility for my actions.

All I've ever wished for, was to admire you. You are the epitome of magnificence, divinity that I can only dream to one day achieve but knowing I will never truly reach. There's an otherworldly sort of allure to you, which drew me in far too close. Much like the man who enhanced himself with wings of wax, but flew too close to the sun so his wings melted and he met a terrible fate. You are the sun, and I was that reckless fool with fake wings.

I allowed myself to get too close, tainting your light with my imperfect presence. Your grace was the warm sunlight on my skin, when everything around me was a horrible darkness. To think, I attempted to put out that light. It was nearly diminished. For that, I should be burned. I'm sorry, so so sorry.

I've thought long and hard on what I could possibly say to you, what sort of response could be adequate enough considering what you mean to me and the delicate situation. It didn't take long for me to arrive to the answer: no response is fitting. It doesn't matter if I pen a letter long enough to rival the river of tears I shed, coat the envelope in gold and ink of silver, with a message that would have moved the seven themselves to weep. It does not change the betrayal that occurred. I betrayed the trust you gave me, and shattered it into millions of pieces. However, know that I'll be on my hands and knees piecing it back together again, even if the shards cause me to bleed, you are worth it.

The stabbing sensation on my skin would be nothing compared to the one in my heart that I feel when I consider the fact that you might despise me. There's nothing more I would want than to see your face, hold your hands and feel the warmth of your skin that's so unlike the coldness of your vessel. Requesting a meeting would be imperious, as I have no right to ask you of this. But if I could, I would love to see you and discuss what comes next, perhaps over lunch. This is just a thought, a wish of mine, but one you are not required to fulfill.

I'd love to believe that I know you and your vessel better than anyone else could even dream of understanding, but I know that is far from the truth. Even as I pampered and polished your precious doll, your secrets continue to escape me. Did you ever hear me, when I brushed and washed Yuu's hair? When I took their freezing cold hands and painted their nails? When kneeled down in front of them to polish their shoes? When I adorned the best luxuries of brand accessories on their body?

I would kneel down to no one else.

There was always this wish, a dream of mine, that one day I might perhaps one day get to pamper you. Not Yuu. But you. Is that a scandalous desire?

Your hands would be warm, and I would hold them as I file your nails. Your arm wouldn't be so rigid and mechanical, you could actually extend it as I slather a creamy scented lotion along your skin. And if you do desired, I could lift your head and apply lipstick to your lips... This is just the process I commonly used while your vessel was under my care.

Although, I would gladly take up the responsibility of nursing you back to health, or any other role you would give me. There are countless things I can accomplish for you. I commonly deal in potent poisons, but I can just as well deal in healing and comforting. I'm skilled in self-defense and various forms of magic, so I can be your companion to protect you from everything that would wish you harm. You know of my business in acting and singing, so even if you wanted nothing else I could be there to entertain or serenade you. I only wish to be with you again, even though I know I'm underserving. I'm selfish.

If you want nothing more, then I have to be satisfied knowing I was in your thoughts for a brief moment. A twisted part of me wants your mind to be plagued by thoughts of me, just as my mind and heart is full of you.

I have to remind myself, that by getting too close I risk being burnt. But, at this point, I do not care for my own safety. I only care for yours, and I do this to keep my sanity. I truly admire you so much, that I cannot adore you from afar behind a rope like sculpture in a museum. I have to stand nearby, inspect your beauty, polish you to a shine, and value you like the priceless treasure that you are. Should someone threaten to chip off even the slightest speck on you, forcing you through more suffering...

I will shatter them into a million pieces, to preserve your peace.

Yours,

Vil Schoenheit

The wonderful aromatic smell that filled your nose brought back some not so pleasant memories. The smell of the earth beneath your feet, the scent of dew collected on every still surface, but above all were fragrant tangs that immediately alerted you to any nearby presence of a student belonging to Pomefiore.

They had chased you through those deep dark woods, like a pack of rabid hounds tracking and hunting a poor wounded rabbit. Besides their shouts and footfall, their perfume gave them away. There was one in particular which you only caught a whiff of only when you had too closely encountered the dormleader. The scent of lavender and spice hit your nose, the same fragrance on the letter.

"That reeks! Burn it!" A certain feline hissed, covering his little black nose with his paws. You swore the fragrance was beginning to form a migraine at the front of your skull. If the smell was strong for you, it must've been much worse for Grim since he had a superior sense of smell.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, if the smell wasn't that strong and it wasn't the particular scent. Like vanilla or freshly baked bread. If that were the case, Grim might've insisted on keeping it or even be tempted to take a bite out of the sheet.

But it was lavender and spice. So the letter was tossed into a corner several feet away, left to an unknown fate that you would ultimately decide later. When you glanced back to Grim, you saw him holding and sniffing another letter.

For a long moment his sniffed the rolled up paper, his black nose twitching as he was likely just searching for another gift to claim as a snack. After a few seconds, he discarded it, sliding it over to you before he opted to dig through the pile like a raccoon digging into a heap of trash. "Meh, this one smells boring."

"Boring, huh?"

Boring wouldn't exactly be your choice of adjectives to describe this letter. It wasn't an envelope, it was a scroll tied by ribbon, attached to an arrow. An arrow, of all things, was likely the messenger for this message. Thankfully, this one didn't smell of anything. Even without a fragrance to match to a profile, the arrow was a dead giveaway.

Opening it up and using your hands to smooth out the curled edges, you blatantly ignored the wax seal over the ribbon. Once it was fully unsealed, a few single flower petals drifted down from the paper. Just another mess you would sweep up later and decide whether to dispose of it or not, like the first letter from the dormleader. For this one you were a pinch anxious. The sender was not like the others who came before.

Trickster,

It relieves me to see that you are finally safe.

To see you rest and heal in tranquility, nothing steadies my anxiously beating heart more than knowing you are sheltered. Well guarded by a trio of ghosts and the courageous feline Grim, I have no need to stress over your wellbeing with them acting as your valiant knights in shining armor! Although, I would also wish to join their ranks, blessed by your grace and fit to serve as your shield. However...

I am conscious enough to know that I am nowhere near fitting, no matter how much I may wish to reach out and shield you from every evil. In that most vital moment, I had failed to recognize you. I may have spared you from the sharpness of my blade, but I couldn't have guarded you from the suffering that was to come afterwards.

I'm so deeply and truly sorry. Many sleepless nights have followed, since and even before our first fateful encounter in those woods of the Pomefiore estate. Before our encounter, I was conflicted. I wanted to detest you, but I could not, I thought there must be a reason this was all occurring. I couldn't slumber peacefully, so long as I knew there was turbulence surrounding your beloved vessel. After our encounter, I couldn't get the vision of you fragile, frightened, and wounded, out of my mind. Raising a blade against you, who were a stranger shrouded in infamy, made my very heart stop.

Now I know why I was so unexplainably drawn to you. It was not due to the wild frenzy that overtook the entire campus, or a burning hatred to destroy, or even my own desire to discover answers I desperately wanted, although that last one may have played a role. The reason as to I was so enticed by you, a cunning 'imposter,' was because my heart recognized you. It must have been my very soul that pulled me towards you, and perhaps my own nature as well. My body recognized you, my heart and my soul led me to you, but I was blinded by my sorrows.

Throughout the few years I've had on this wonderful earth, I've seen countless peoples, and you are unlike any of which I've seen. In the places I've been, I have witnessed poetry be written by masters of literacy, melodies sung by the most angelic voices ever heard on a stage, and devoted worshippers in holy places kneel in solemn prayer. Somehow you as a single being, or entity, encompass all those elements into one. My aim is to admire beauty, and I see beauty in its finest form when I look at you.

I truly understand what you mean to me, and to others.

But at the same time, you remain a mystery. And I believe I'm speaking for all those who admire you when I say this. We could only dream of truly understanding you, when we only had Yuu.

So, I try to make sense of it all in what I do understand, in the beautiful things I adore that I associate with you who I cherish. In literature, music, photography, I see you in everything all at once. When I read poetic lines, I think I could share it with you. When I hear beautiful music, I imagine you might enjoy listening to the tune too. When I discover stunning sceneries, I plan to bring you there someday to share a moment with you.

Now, I can make sense of it. I understand how the poets of old felt as they penned the love and awe they felt towards the Fairest Queen. It's a rare sentiment that cannot easily be put into words, a feeling as if it held my delicate heart and squeezed when I so much as thought of you. When a song and its composer can bring an audience to tears, I understand that now too. Hearing your voice for the first time, formed a knot in my throat that prevented me from saying much. Catching that first glimpse of you, was like gazing at a perfect painted portrait hanging in a museum.

My dearest player, I am a Hunt. I am naturally inquisitive by nature, and my fondness for you comes just as naturally. You may consider it wrong, but I will continue to offer my loyalty even if you may not accept it.

My aim is to one day unlock your secrets, solve your mysteries, and understand you fully, learn what makes you tick and what drives you forward. Perhaps when the day comes when you've forgiven me for my crimes, I can proudly stand in your presence and recite the poems I have written in your name. I could admire you everyday from then on, and remind you everyday of your worth. Then, I will protect you, from all harm, and I will not allow myself to fail you once again. This is a promise.

Should you need me, I will be there.

Yours,

Rook Hunt

There was something that felt... off. Compared to some of the previous letters, these were rather tame. Of course, there was the desperation and fascination evident in their words captured by the ink, but it was nowhere near as extreme as other cases.

Although, it was still chilling, to read the thoughts they penned.

In your hand you held the arrow the letter had been connected to, feeling its thin shape and the sharpened head at its tip that nearly pricked your finger. The vice dormleader had excellent aim, and had he not been so kind, arrows like this one in your hand could've easily been driven through your flesh and caught you against a tree where you would've been helpless in their grasps.

And yet, despite the opportunities he had, he didn't let a single weapon touch you. All it would take was one arrow, one moment and he could've ended you where you stood. But he spared you. However, there's the lingering doubt that maybe the primary reason he did it was he hoped you had answers to the malfunctioning vessel. You couldn't be sure exactly why he spared you, when everyone had wanted to torment and imprison you or worse.

Beside you, there's a large crunch and a content purr. When you look over, there's Grim, happily munching away on an apple he held with his little paws. He sank his fangs into the fruit, content that he finally found an offering that appeased him. In front of him was a small basket, filled with more juicy red apples.

"These are great! And, even though I was the one who found them, I'll let you have some!" Grim picked up another apple from the basket, sticking his claws into the red peel and offering it with his little grin. Nevermind the fact that these were probably meant as a gift for you and not for him, but you didn't mind. They would have likely ended up in the trash anyways, at least someone could enjoy them.

"You should really have one. You haven't eaten all day."

"I'm not hungry, but thanks. You can have them." Ever since everything happened, you weren't too keen on accepting gifts, especially if they were consumable. For now, the only places you'd accept food from, was the cafeteria you'd venture too at the dead of night when no one was there, or Sam's shop.

In the spot of the basket where Grim had removed the apple, there was a white layer at the bottom of the basket. Perplexed, you reached in and found an envelope hidden by the piled apples.

Unsurprisingly, the envelope smelled of sweet things, apples, cinnamon, and freshly baked pies. The envelope itself was nothing special, it had no intricate wax seal or marking. It was loosely sealed shut by a brown piece of string, and covered in some white and pink apples blossoms.

The inside was less impressive, more authentic, which was refreshing in a way. Smooth cursive flowed into slightly choppy print scrawled out in uneven lines, before eventually returning back to cursive at the end of some sentences. It appears parts were rushed judging by the blotted ink stains at multiple periods. The apples were a clue as to who the sender may be, but why would the letter be hidden in a gift?

Dear Player,

If you're reading this, that means my letter got through.

Where do I even start? It seems right that I first say sorry. I'm sorry. It sounds like a load of bull, but I am sorry. Apologizing in all these other ways, won't make this any better, so, I thought this might help. I'm gonna be completely honest with you, no lies, no tricks, just the blunt truth. I'm not going to be showing you these pretty sides I polished to impress and to mask all the ugly. I'll tell you everything that's been going on. That's something only I have the guts to do.

The reason I hid this letter was because Vil and Rook have been checking anything I want to write to you. They want to keep up this positive front, they wanna at least pretend to be perfect enough to be near you. At least, that's what I think. Although I know we won't ever come close to that.

Instead of trying to write a real and honest letter for you, it feels like I was writing some essay for Professor Trein to grade. I'd have to write and write, and even if the grammar was right, the message wasn't. They want to make you think everything's okay, when it's not. I can only imagine what elegant crap they were spewing in their own fancy letters, while we're actually all a mess. We've been like this since Yuu broke down. I try to understand them, and in a way I do, but sometimes they freak me out. Yeah, I got my own problems trying to comprehend all this chaos, but they're different.

Is everyone else in the other dorms this extreme? This miserable and on the verge of breaking? Maybe you won't believe me, or maybe you'll realize that there's some truth to what I'm saying. Here, in Pomefiore, I can only tell you what I've seen. These days, Rook's smile seems strained, like he's about to snap, his eyes are sharp and watchful. The only time his smile is normal is when he's looking at some photo, but he won't ever let me see what it is. Vil, well, the only sign he's still alive and kicking are the packages that come in for him, new makeup and all that stuff, things he's using to craft that perfect mask. I did see him one night out in the hall, I swear there was mascara down his face but I was too put off to approach when he was like that.

Don't ever tell them I told you all this. Vil would probably skin me alive and wear me as a robe, and Rook... I don't want to think about what he would do... I'm kidding by the way, but seriously, don't ever tell them. I told you I would be honest to you, so here's my reason. I thought that maybe telling you all this would score me points with you, get you to trust me again. Even if this is a rotten way to go about it, I don't care.

I am rotten, and I won't hide it like them.

If I can't even be honest with you, then do I really deserve a second chance at all?

Scratch that. I don't deserve a second chance at all after everything that happened. What I did was downright terrible, but I'm trying my damnedest to be deserving again. And I won't stop trying, even if part of me thinks it's useless. I never cared for Yuu, the only reason I acted for them was because it was you behind them. My goal is to eventually be beside you, the real you.

Although, a basket of apples is a crummy way to go about things, but think of it like a peace offering. Just cause I can't get word to you, don't mean I give up. I'm not giving up. Ever. Everyone's going about their own roundabout ways of mending things. If you want to hear more, I'll gladly tell you. I don't think anyone else would tell you the truth of what's happening, because in a sense everyone wants to appeal to you with the best image of themselves they can possible portray. Don't believe all the hogwash they send you. If whoever sends something and seems to be stable, they're not. Not completely.

I'm awfully ashamed to admit it, but I'm not okay. Not since everything started, and not since everything went to hell when shit hit the fan. I'm not okay without you, and I got myself to blame for that.

This letter is helping. The thought of communicating with you again, even if I can't see your face or hear your voice and its reduced to words on paper, it's more than I could ask for. So, if you want me to spill the beans, just ask. If not, if there's no response, well, I'll get a bit of comfort thinking you might've read this. Besides, I have hope with each attempt I'll make. I'm not just rottenly selfish, I'm stubborn to a fault. And if I have to knock down someone else's chances to get closer, then that's fine by me.

All you gotta do is talk to me.

Until then, hoping to speak to you soon,

Epel Felmier

[llamagoddessofficial]

Thank you @radpunch for giving me an excuse for more Farmtale Sans... he's the love of my life

I don't usually do this, but I thought I'd add some recommended music for reading this piece. I listened to this the whole time I was writing, and I think it really adds to the vibe.

---

To anyone else, the sight of a body in a field neighbouring yours probably would’ve caused no small amount of alarm. Instead, you just sighed, finally laying down your shovel for the day and hopping the fence you had only just finished repairing.

The grass brushed against your hips as you walked, moving your feet as if wading through water. The evening sun caught the long, glimmering single stray cobwebs that trailed from the grass flower heads, and illuminated the tiny fluttering bodies of disturbed insects that fluttered up and away when you walked by. Though it was a pain to move through, you always liked when the field looked like this. It was your own romantic summer sea.

Eventually, you came across the ‘body’. Sans was lounging with his head propped up on a pile of empty seed bags, straw hat placed on his chest, sockets shut. The sun didn’t reach him now, the tall grass on all sides of him left a perfect little shady spot where he had nestled in. He looked very comfy... very peaceful. This wasn’t unusual at all, for him. He had a knack for finding hidden places to nap.

You crouched down. You could hear him faintly snoring. There was a tiny iridescent beetle sitting proudly on his bent knee, using the vantage point to observe its surroundings. It didn’t seem bothered by your presence in the slightest.

Sans was nice to look at. You had always considered him kinda good-looking, but he had grown more and more on you over time. Despite his brother being more classically ‘handsome’, with his high cheekbones, strong jawline and impressive physique, Sans was the one you found yourself getting caught staring at. He was... so easygoing. Not softspoken, too confident for that. Just never needing to raise his voice. Quick witted, strong, smart. Casual. Despite his silly straw hat, constantly muddy pants and crappy jokes, something about him was effortlessly cool. Effortlessly pretty.

And you were...

...

He had dirt on his cheekbone. Without thinking, you reached out, wiping it off. 

Before you could even blink, his hand snapped up, catching yours by the wrist. You let out a little inelegant shriek then slapped your free hand over your mouth in embarrassment - he snorted, sockets opening up, pretty fuzzy green eyelights landing on you. 

“well hello there,” he said, voice only mildly sleepy, with a gentle purr to it. He turned his face, and kissed your palm.

You shrieked a second time. Well... this one was more like a yelp, yanking your hand out of his grip as both of you descended into laughter. “Gross!”

You weren’t going to admit the move had given you butterflies. Nor that the way he was looking at you was making you feel things you didn’t have words for yet. You made a point of wiping your hand on your work pants.

“am i still asleep, or d’you just look like a dream to me?” he asked, leaning back, knitting his fingers together over his chest. 

“Charming.” Your tone just made him snicker. “The sun is setting. You getting up soon, or are you planning on sleeping under the stars tonight?”

Sans’ gaze was very soft. “hey, that actually don’t sound too bad. ‘specially if i had the right company.”

“True. Stargazing with someone is always nicer.”

“could always join me. room for two, in this patch.”

“Unlike you, I have to worry about ticks.” You flicked his shoulder. “I’ll think about it when the grass is cut.”

He grinned. “dang. never felt so motivated to do a chore before. s’that a promise, then? when i cut the grass you’ll come stargaze with me?”

You rolled your eyes. But there they were again; the butterflies. The thing with Sans was you never had any idea whether or not he was serious. He said entirely joking and entirely genuine things with the same tone of voice, the same smile, the same twinkling eyelights. Maybe in a few years you’d know him well enough to tell. Right now, though, you were much too afraid of embarrassing both of you by assuming his 'flirting' was anything but banter.

He finally sat up, and the beetle on his knee took off into the sky. It felt so cosy, somehow; the two of you were almost entirely below the top of the grass, hiding in a tiny den. It smelled like... well, grass, duh. But a specific kind of grassy smell - sweet and dry, more like hay, summery and clear. It reminded you of playing outside as a child until the sun had long gone down. 

“you been exertin’ yerself? all red.”

“Yeah, I’ve just been fixing the fence.” A lie and a truth. You had been fixing the fence, but it was a menial chore that hadn’t required huge amounts of strain. The blushing was from something else.

“ah, jeez." A break in his easy mood. "we’re still really sorry about that. pap is absolutely mortified, think he's set aside a whole load of crop for you.”

The brothers’ goat had managed to break through several fences, including yours, to take a 'visit' to your garden. You’d found her in your flowerbed, happily eating the tops off the marigolds you were going to cut and take to market. 

You’d never seen someone more apologetic than when Papyrus showed up to bring her home. The animal still had bright yellow petals in her beard as he led her away.

“It’s alright,” you said, warmly. “it wasn't like it was malicious or anything. Animals get out. I don’t think I’ve ever met a more sweet-natured goat anyway.”

“should’ve told me you were fixing that fence. i would’ve helped out.”

“Oh would you have?” Your tone was mock-suspicious. “How convenient that you waited until I was finished to tell me that.”

His sockets raised at the corners. “i’m serious! you doubtin’ my honesty? dang. thought we were close.”

Uh oh. Butterflies again. You swerved, doing your best to avoid it.

“So does your brother know you’re out here?”

“course not,” he snickered. “he still thinks i’m working.”

“Maybe I should go tell him that you’re flunking. I’m certain he already knows, he just needs to catch you in the act.”

He put his hat back on his head. “well. guess now i have to kill you.”

You laughed - and in the shade, entirely missed the little green shimmer across his cheekbones.

“How’s the day been then, sleepyhead?”

He shrugged, picking at some of the flattened grass. “busy. exactly how you think late summer on a farm would be. harvestin’, packin’ stuff up. lotsa ploughing. even with magic, it’s hard work. i’m just stealing whatever breaks i can find. you?”

You gave him a look. “You came over yesterday. You know how I'm doing.”

He leant over, lightly elbowing you. “c’mon. i’m doin’ the small talk thing. can’t leave me hangin’ here.”

“So now you’re guilt tripping me? You’re a real piece of work.”

That got another snicker out of him. He was so handsome when he laughed. 

Sans always liked knowing what was going on in your life. It was weird, you never saw him do that with anyone else; it had taken you a while to notice it but even with his closest friends he didn’t talk half as much as he did with you. The first time you’d seen him talking to Toriel you had thought he was in a bad mood, with how little he engaged, how simple his questions were, how sparingly he spoke.

“BAD MOOD? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?”

“Sans just didn’t seem very chatty tonight. Did something happen?”

“OH? OH! NYEHEHEHEH, HOW FUNNY! SANS WAS COMPLETELY NORMAL TONIGHT, HUMAN, DON’T YOU WORRY. THIS IS HOW HE ALWAYS IS AT GET-TOGETHERS.”

“But he...”

“HE’S JUST MUCH CHATTIER WITH ME AND YOU.”

You liked to think he felt safe around you. You definitely felt safer around him, that was for sure. 

You pulled your knees up to your chest, relenting under his gaze. “Okay okay, fine. I’m doing alright, I guess. The old trees came right back to life as soon as the thickets were cleared away. There’s already fruit, they just need another year or so to get market ready.”

“and yer flowers? they sellin’ well?”

“It’s a good way to plug the money gaps in the meantime. Living in the age of the internet definitely helps, there’s lots of information floating around that has made it so much easier for me to get started. I dunno. It’s alright.”

You wanted to stop talking. You looked away, staring off into the ‘forest’ surrounding you, the waning sunset catching certain blades and turning them into a warm burning orange. In the distance you could hear the rolling and bubbling singing of a particularly loud bird somewhere overhead.

Despite your desire to shut up, Sans wasn’t about to let you. His lovely eyelights just continued to bore into you. 

“i can hear a ‘but’ in there.”

...

You sighed. Oh well. Who else were you going to be able to talk to?

“I thought the impostor syndrome would be gone by now.”

He cocked his head. You had no choice but to continue. 

“I’m just... I still feel like I’m not part of this. My mind hasn’t settled in. Every day is a confusing fight where I feel like I barely make it out the other side. Most of my flower boxes are stuck together with tape and hope.” You settled your chin onto your knees, sulking. “Every time things start to make sense, and I feel like I’m finally starting to get some solid ground, another problem shows up. Another thing breaks. Another bug I didn’t know existed is eating the fruit, another tree disease I have to prep against otherwise it might wipe out the orchard, another colony of aphids eating the flowers. I can’t win.”

“sounds pretty normal to me.”

You looked up from your knees. “Does it?” 

“that’s just life, ain’t it?” He had somehow shuffled closer to you, entirely without you noticing. “there’s always some new problem. if ya ask me, sounds exactly like a day on our farm. one of the ducks is injured, a coop is leaking, chicken got eaten in the night, goat escaped and ate the neighbour’s flowers. nothing goes how you expect. if you ask me, you’re doing great.”

You hummed. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

“doin’ good on paper, too. human from the suburbs moves to the countryside and buys an abandoned orchard. most of the time that ends in disaster. but yer trees are fruiting, could be ready in a single year, the flowers are already bloomin’ and sellin’ at the market. not sure how you could do any better.”

... You couldn’t help but feel warm. Especially on your face again. Partially because of his kind words, yes... but mostly because he seemed so intent on making you feel less bad. It made your chest all fluttery.

“... Thank you,” you mumbled. "that does make me feel better."

“course. anytime. just wish you’d ask for help, more.”

The bird from earlier started singing again. You glanced up, but could see nothing from within the little 'den'.

“Any idea what that bird is?”

He leant back. One hand, conspicuously, resting on the ground just behind your back. “s’a skylark.”

“... Skylark.” 

You stared up into the clear evening sky. You weren’t great with bird names, but you’d definitely remember that. 

...

Feeling like he was looking at you, you turned to the side. Sans was looking at you - and his face was only really a few inches from yours. Close enough that if he tilted his head down a bit, the top of his straw hat would bump against your hair. His expression was calm... a lot calmer than you felt. The two of you quietly held eye contact, and the skylark continued to sing.

... Suddenly, and with no apparent trigger, you felt immensely flustered by the proximity. You pulled back, shuffling, unceremoniously dragging yourself to your feet and brushing off your pants. Your head popped up above the grass; immediately, some tiny birds scattered up and away, sun shining into your eyes.

“I should head home.” You were messing needlessly with your hair. “Dinner isn’t going to make itself.”

Sans looked up at you, for a few silent moments. You couldn’t read his face at all, the only thing you knew was that his smile was very soft.

“agh, i should head out too,” he eventually said, not standing, but folding his arms behind his head and stretching. “need to get home. pap probably thinks i fell into a ditch.”

You put your hands on your hips. “Then you can finally rest, after a long hard day of skipping your chores?”

He chuckled. “why of course.”

“Pft. Say hi to Papyrus for me.”

“sure thing. later, doll.”

With that, you headed back across the field, leaving Sans to pretend to wake up. Knowing him he had probably laid down and gone straight back to sleep.

... You put your hand over your chest, now that you were out of sight, trying to still your fluttering heart. It wasn’t really any use.

The more time you spent with Sans, the more you realised you were falling for him.

///---///

Sans watched you walk away, the golden light catching in your hair.

... He sighed, stretching again, before finally actually dragging himself to his feet. The green flush became more prominent on his face as he stopped to watch a skylark hovering just over the grass before tilting its wings and dancing away.

He’d been completely serious about the stargazing. Once again, you thought he was joking, his own persona had bitten him in the ass. He’d wanted to tell you as you were leaving - he’d wanted to finally put his foot down and make a date out of it, ask you when you were free and do what he’d been dreaming of doing for weeks. 

But just like always, when you’d looked at him, he’d completely fallen to pieces. The words had gotten stuck in his nonexistent throat. And by the time he’d shaken himself out of his stupor, you were already leaving.

Sans just sighed, adjusting his hat. 

“... next time,” he hummed. "there's always next time."

With that, he shortcutted home.

[doodle-pops]

Cruel Summer Love

Erestor x reader

Request: Hi! I saw that you were taking requests! this is the first time I've done this so i think i am doing it right. I was wondering if you would be willing to write an Erestor x Reader enemies to lovers fic? If you need more info or anything let me know! :) I love your blog <3 - Anon

A/N: Another attempt at an enemies-to-lovers AU, and I hope I scored well with this also. Enjoy!

Warnings: enemies to lovers, witty banter and snarky remarks

Words: 1.6k

Synopsis: When your summer trip to Rivendell takes a turn and causes a clash with the Chief Counsellor, you find yourself in a begrudging truce, slowly leading to a change of heart.

The halls of Rivendell gleamed with the soft ethereal light of early summer morning, the song of distant waterfalls creating a serene symphony. It was a place of timeless beauty and serene tranquillity, where the soft rustling of leaves and the gentle flow of the Bruinen River created a haven of peace. Yet, beneath the tranquil surface, a tension simmered—a tension that seemed to follow you everywhere. And its source? Erestor, Chief Counsellor of Lord Elrond.

You had arrived in Rivendell several months ago, an emissary from Lothlórien. Your diplomatic mission was meant to be a peaceful collaboration, yet from the moment you met Erestor, sparks flew—and not in the pleasant kind. His cold and calculating eyes seemed to judge your every move, every word. The way his voice dripped with condescension when he addressed you, always finding flaws in your plans, drove you to the brink of madness.

Today was no different. Seeking solace, you found yourself wandering into the grand library’s vast collection, pouring over ancient texts in search of a solution to a recent border skirmish. The tranquil ambience did little to soothe your frustration.

Pulling a scroll from a high shelf and settling into a secluded corner, the tranquillity was short-lived. His presence, commanding as ever, entered the room and ushered to his desk. As he made careful steps, he paused upon seeing you, a frown creasing his brow.

“Are you following me now?” you snapped, more out of exhaustion than anger at the possible argument of the rise.

“This is my domain,” he replied icily. “if anyone is an intruder here, it is you.”

You turned your attention back to the scroll, determined to ignore him, but the words blurred before your eyes. you could feel his gaze lingering on you, a mixture of disdain and something else—curiosity, perhaps?

“Must you handle those so carelessly?” Erestor’s voice was a cold reprimand, slicing through the quiet.

You glared at him; your patience had worn thin. “If you didn’t insist on micromanaging every little detail, perhaps we could finish this task sometime before the next Age.”

Erestor’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, instead, he focused on his own work, though his mind kept drifting back to your grip on the scrolls, your defiant stance and the fire in your eyes. Then, his voice cut through the quiet, his presence like a dark shoulder over your shoulder. “That document is irrelevant.”

You stiffened, refusing to turn and face him. “I don’t recall asking for your opinion, Counsellor.”

He rose from his desk and moved to stand beside you, too close for your liking. His scent, a mix of parchment, peppermint oil and something uniquely him, filled your senses. “And yet, here I am, offering it. This is a matter of great importance, one that requires more than a cursory glance at outdated and delicate texts.”

Your grip on the scroll tightened. “Unlike you, I believe in understanding history before making decisions that affect lives.”

Erestor scoffed. “Understanding history is one thing, being paralysed by it is another. If you would stop dwelling on the past—”

“And start making reckless decisions like you?” you snapped, finally meeting his gaze. His dark eyes flashed with anger, but beneath it, you thought you saw something else—something softer, more vulnerable.

“You presume much, diplomat,” he spat, his voice dangerously low.

“And you presume too little,” you shot back. “Perhaps if you spent less time criticising others and more time considering their perspectives, we might actually make progress.”

For a moment, silence stretched between you, taut and heavy. Then, to your surprise, Erestor sighed and ran a hand through his long, silky, dark hair. “Perhaps there is merit to your words,” he admitted reluctantly.

You blinked, taken aback by his sudden shift. “Excuse me?”

He glanced at you, a hint of a remorseful smile playing at his lips. “I am saying that you might be right. We have been at odds since your arrival, but perhaps we both seek the same goal.”

Your heart skipped a beat. This was the first time he had shown anything other than disdain. “Are you suggesting a truce?”

“Of sorts,” he muttered. “If we are to resolve this conflict, we must work together, not against each other.”

You studied his face, searching for any signs of deceit, but found none. Reluctantly, you nodded. “Agreed. For the sake of our people.”

Days turned into weeks, and slowly, the nature of your interactions began to change. The barbed comments and icy glares gave way to the civil discourse and even, on rare occasions, laughter. You discovered that beneath the Chief Counsellor’s aloof exterior lay a sharp mind and dry wit that could rival your own.

One evening, as you worked late in the library, you felt a presence behind you. Turning, you found Erestor watching you, his expression inscrutable. “Can’t sleep?” you asked, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest.

He shook his head. “I find myself restless. You?”

“These texts are proving more elusive than I anticipated,” you admitted, gesturing to the piles of scrolls and books.

Erestor stepped closer, his eyes scanning the documents. “May I?”

You nodded, and he took a seat beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours. For a while, the two of you worked in companionable silence, the only sounds were the rustle of parchment and the occasional murmur of agreement. As the hours passed, you found yourself stealing glances at him, noticing the way the candlelight played on his features, softening the hard lines of his face. You realised, with a start, that your feelings for him had shifted. The animosity had given way to something deeper, something you were not ready to name.

“Thank you.” Your voice broke a long silence with a soft whisper.

He looked up, surprise flickering in his eyes. “For what?”

“For this,” you gestured to the workspace you shared. “For helping me. For seeing me as more than just your adversary.”

Erestor smiled a genuine smile that made your heart ache. “And thank you for challenging me. It has been…refreshing. Not many are brave nor bold to step to my level.”

The air between you seemed to change, charged with an unspoken tension. You wondered if he felt it too, if he sensed the shift in your relationship. As if reading your mind came naturally, Erestor reached out his hand to cover yours. The touch was light and tentative, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you.

“Perhaps we are more alike than we thought,” he said quietly.

“Your breath caught in your throat. “Indeed, perhaps we are…”

In the days that followed, the tentative truce between you blossomed into something more profound. You found yourself gravitating towards each other, seeking the other’s company even outside of your shared duties. The camaraderie that had once been a reluctant necessity now felt like a vital part of your lives.

One evening, after a particularly gruelling meeting with Lord Elrond, you and Erestor found yourselves alone in the gardens. The night was cool, the stars were twinkling above, casting a serene glow over Imladris.

“Walk with me?” Erestor suggested, his voice softer than usual.

Nodding, together you strolled through the winding paths, the scent of blooming flowers filling the air and the sound of tinkling laughter in the distance could be heard. Nonetheless, the silence between you was comfortable—each lost in your thoughts. Finally, Erestor was the first to stop walking and turned to face you. “There is something I need to say,” he began in a serious tone.

“What is it?” you asked with a slight skip in your heartbeat.

He took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. “I have been a foll. I let my pride and prejudice blind me to what was right in front of me. You.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he held up a hand, stopping you.

“Let me finish,” he begged. “I see now how wrong I was, how my arrogance and fear drove a wedge between us. But in these past weeks, I have come to respect you, to admire you. And more than that, I have come to care for you deeply.”

Your breath hitched, emotions swirling within you. “Erestor…”

He stepped closer to bridge the gap, his hand reaching out to cradle your cheek. “I know I do not deserve your forgiveness, but I am asking for it anyway. I am asking for a chance to prove that I can be more than your adversary.”

“You started off as the worst thing I could have ever encountered during my time here,” you began, watching keenly at his sheepish grin, “making my days unbearable, until they weren’t.”

Erestor laughed softly, dipping his head to hide the look of humour. “I know this, and I deeply apologise for the trouble I have caused.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you placed your hand over his. “You already have,” you breathed. “And I…I care for you too. More than I ever thought possible.”

A look of relief washed over his face, and he took the opportunity to lean in cautiously, his forehead resting against yours. “Then perhaps, we can start anew. As allies, as friends…and maybe something more.”

Smiling through your tears, you nodded. “Yes,” you whispered. “Yes, Erestor. I would like that very much.”

Utilising the opportunity granted, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and filled with the promise of new beginnings.

Masterlist

Taglist: @lilmelily @ranhanabi777 @rain-on-my-umbrella @mysticmoomin @asianbutnotjapanese @batsyforyou @sakurayaxd @involuntaryspasms @stormchaser819 @aconstructofamind @addaigio @lamemaster @elficially-done-with-life

[chanlixsbabygirl]

What Was I Made For? | Lee Felix

Pairing: f!reader x Lee Felix Word Count: 1.4k Warning(s): angst (with a happy ending)

It was about a 2 hours drive from the west side of Seoul out to the coast. It was 2 hours of silence. Of just you and your thoughts. Seoul was huge, but the past few weeks, it had been suffocating you. It felt like you were living inside someone else’s play, and someone had put it all on hold.

You used to love the city. Love your job. Love all the people. But it had lost its sparkle. The daily stress of working with top-tier celebrities. Dating one. Slowly, your job had started to fade into the background. You were his girlfriend. That was what your life was now. Lee Yongbok’s girlfriend.

When you had moved to Seoul, you had known what you wanted. You wanted to work in the music industry. You wanted to be part of K-Pop. Not that you wanted to be onstage. You never felt the urge to be a trainee or to debut. But you wanted to be part of it. That was how you ended up working for JYPE and getting put in charge of managing the day-to-day details of the Stray Kids members. That was when you fell. It was almost instantaneous. You laid eyes on Lee Yongbok and you knew your heart was in his delicate hands.

Your one-sided swooning turned out to be not so one-sided. You asked to be moved to another group, to avoid a conflict of interests, and then he was yours. Or you were his. That was the more accurate way of seeing it. You were Lee Yongbok’s girlfriend. That was what almost anyone called you, unless addressing you directly. It started to feel like that was all you ever were. All you could ever be.

That was how you found yourself in the car, driving to a beach you had been to once a long time ago. Many tears were shed in the car. It felt so overwhelming. Everything you had worked so hard for was a footnote in the book that was Lee Yongbok and his record breaking career. You loved him. You always would. But these feelings had started tainting every waking moment, and even some of the blissful nights of sleep.

You hadn’t told him that you were going. You had put an overnight bag in the car and you had left his beautiful sleeping form in bed. He would be plenty busy while you were gone. This wasn’t something to worry him with. Not right now. He would plant it deep in his heart, and he would spend every ounce of himself trying to fix something he hadn’t even done himself.

Sitting on the beach, watching the waves break along the coast, you realized you didn’t know how to feel. You didn’t blame him. He had never tried to overshadow you and your accomplishments. Had never tried to take you away from your work. You were sure he had noticed the ever darkening of your mood. He was perceptive. Always worried about everyone around him.

You almost didn’t realize your phone was ringing. It was him. He was calling. You debated not answering, but that would cause more problems.

“Hey-”

“Where are you? I woke up and you were gone and your car was gone and your weekend bag was gone too. Did I do something wrong? If I did-”

“Lix? You didn’t do anything wrong. You never do anything wrong. I just…I needed to get out of Seoul for a day.”

“I would have come with you. You know they would understand if I needed the day off.”

“Felix, I know you would have. I needed to be alone.”

“I know you took your bag, but will you be home tonight?”

“No.”

“Where are you?”

“Y/N, where are you?”

“The beach. The one you took me to the first weekend we went away together.”

“I’ll pack and-”

“Don’t. I…just…stay in Seoul. Go to practice. You have a tour coming and-”

“I don’t give a fuck about that right now.”

“Please.”

After several more minutes of back and forth, he finally agreed to stay there. He made you agree to drive back first thing in the morning. You spent the rest of the day there at the beach, even waiting until after the moon and stars washed over you before driving to the small hotel you’d booked for the night. It was simple. Unlike the hotels you’d stayed at over the years when working with idols or when Yongbok had taken you for getaways and trips.

It was late when you got a short text. “I don’t know how to sleep alone anymore.”

You didn’t acknowledge the single tear rolling down your cheek as you stared up into the darkness. You still didn’t know what you were going to do. What you were going to say. How you felt. You felt cold all night, missing the warmth of the body that usually slept draped over you. It was a long night. Restless and unrestful.

It was even earlier than you had agreed on with your boyfriend when you left. As much crying as you had done on the way out to the coast, you did even more on the way back to Seoul. You cried for what you had gained and what you had lost and the things you held on to that felt so far out of reach.

He was still home when you turned your key in the door and pushed it open softly. His eyes were red, and there were dark circles beneath his pretty eyes. He didn’t even let the door shut before he was wrapping around you, taking up all of your senses. The past day had felt like a personal hell to him.

“Don’t ever, ever, do that again.”

“Let me explain…I know it won’t make everything better, but it might help.”

You sat on the couch and confessed every bottled up feeling that had swirled within you. The confusion and guilt and anger that you were his shadow. That you knew that he never wanted you to be his shadow, but that you were, nonetheless. You told him how the city that had once been open and wondrous and full of opportunity had slowly started to feel like a pretty cage that you had walked yourself into. That you had locked the door and thrown away the key yourself.

He cried. You knew he would. He was so sensitive. It was something you honestly admired about him. That he could wear his heart so openly on his sleeve. Here you were with every feeling you had felt trapped inside until the pressure became too much, and it exploded in a glorious and catastrophic mess.

“Lix, I don’t want you to blame yourself.”

“How can I not be to blame for this? This is all because of me?”

“No, it isn’t. You haven’t ever seen yourself as better or more important than me. You’ve always been Felix, andI’ve been Y/N, and we’ve been equal.”

“But-”

“You can’t control what other people do and say. You can’t control the picture that is painted of you, no matter how hard you try.”

“It’s not fair.”

“I know…I know, Lix.”

“Are you going to leave me?”

“What? No…no, I don’t think I’ll ever leave you, unless you tell me to.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise. I love you. I’ll always love you.”

“I want…I want to make this better.”

“Lix-”

“I may not have done this, but I didn’t do anything to stop it. I let you be seen as just my partner. Not yourself and your accomplishments. And I want to do better.”

And he did. When you came up in interviews, he always made sure you were called by name, made sure to talk about the things you had done and the things you had coming up. Stay had accepted you, but they had never really known you. Now you were asked questions about yourself when you met Stay, not just about your boyfriend. People congratulated you on reaching goals and successes.

The smiles slowly returned. Your ray of sunshine still lit up the dark days, but he didn’t have to light them all on his own again. You felt happy again. You felt like you could breathe again. You felt like a person, instead of an appendage. You felt like you had when Seoul was still new, and you were in love, and it was you and Felix, and everything was okay.

[valjeancrazylover2]

A little introduction to Marius' new group of friends

Sorry to the Amis fans out there - but i've given Marius a new group of friends cause I felt bad for him. He does sort of... lose ALL of them on the barricade, and I had to give him SOMETHING to do once he recovered ... so i just made him some new friends (with the help of the genius mind of @24601orwhatever SHOUTOUT!!!) so hes not lonely.

Admittedly, one of them IS technically a character in the musical. None other than Jordan Simon Pollard's very own Gérard (he told me the name of the character when i asked, for which i am forever grateful. I've just taken him, given him a surname and expanded on whatever personality he displays in the musical. There are benefits to eagle-eyeing the ensemble in company scenes!!)

As a sort of .. i suppose Teaser? for my next fanfic due to come out (which was originally plotted as a chapter for the wrestling fanfic, but is now its own thing because of how off-topic it got), here's the section i have written in the fic which introduce these weirdos. These might not end up being the final versions, as I'll probably tweak bits here and there.. I've also attached the drawings i did not too long ago.

I'd love to hear any questions/assumptions, and additionally if anyone else has made a les mis OC to give marius a friend post-barricade? The boy's lonely, he needs them, I want to hear.

(Under the cut, since this is long)

~

First, there was François-Michel Dolosa. He was meek - not entirely suited to the bar, Marius thought - but he had a kind heart. Marius had seen the man, about half a head shorter than him, struggling to carry a large pile of books and offered to help, and the conversation between them began when he saw that half the pile was about various native birds. Along the span of the afternoon, of which was spent talking amiably with François, he noticed more bird motifs about his person. His waistcoat was adorned with beautiful tree-like embroidery, with birds atop their branches; his watch was engraved, with a small bird charm on his fob.

Marius had noticed but did not comment on the fact that François did not seem to be of a very wealthy standing, contrary to what his jewellery might have suggested. He reminded Marius of himself, before he had been married, living in that dingy apartment.  There were many difficult memories now tied to that place, but perhaps that is why he had found himself drawn to François. 

The next to come along had been Réne Gignac, an excitable young gentleman, who could always manage to stick his nose into someone else’s business. That was indeed how he had been introduced to Marius and François, when they had been discussing their families in their claimed table of the library. His demeanour was certainly enchanting, like he would have much liked to be a peacock, and his eyes shone with intrigue whenever he sensed the opportunity to inquire about your personal life.

He, unlike François, was clearly of good money, and seemed that he was studying law simply for something to do, and because it provided him with a sort of higher-class gossip. It was surprising, then, when Marius discovered that he was in fact a very competent student. 

René was also of great contrast to Marius and François in that he liked to make a scene, never one to be quiet, always talking to whoever happened to walk by where the three of them were sitting and they’d leave him with their life story. 

Marius supposed the reason why René had stuck to their small group was because he had elected Marius to be his ‘project’, to say. There was a lot about his life that Marius knew he must keep private, as being involved in an insurrection definitely did not look good for any chances of employment - he had enough trouble as it was with people inquiring about where the faint scars on his face had come from. For Monsieur Gignac, the plea of clumsiness did not satisfy, and so he stuck to Marius and by extension, François - who he enjoyed hearing facts about local birds from.

The fourth in the group had not made his own way into the company, but rather it was René’s habit of chatter that had dragged along Gérard Ambroise.

Gérard was an interesting person, to put it lightly. He reminded Marius somewhat of Javert, in that he was uptight and loved to argue, which explained the choice of career, as well as his passion for the public and the lowerclassmen. That was less like Javert, but certainly more like his previous group of friends.

Something about the similarity unsettled him, with the added fact that something about Gérard seemed familiar. He even bore a scar which looked fresh enough to have been open in the past year, but no less. No, it was too much of a coincidence. Marius would have remembered him if he was a friend, and certainly a person such as him.

He and René certainly made a pair, with Gérard’s rigid politics often clashing against René’s more blithe attitude, leading to Gérard hissing an argument until his face went red, received only by a shrug from the shorter man, which then infuriated him even more. René seemed to purposefully provoke him, seeking some sort of entertainment in seeing Gérard huff an agitated Well! and spout his opinions until his entire manifesto had been represented.

Marius knew René to be a genuinely cordial man, with enough chatter to speak for the entire group, always interested and attentive, so this behaviour was strange. 

Strangest of all, it was clear that René infuriated Gérard, so why Gérard bothered to stick around with a crowd he seemed to think himself better than was unclear. Though he did have his bouts of pleasantry - usually when politics was not in the equation. However, it seemed hard for him to avoid the topic, so these moments were not as frequent as what people would have usually liked in a friend.

It wasn’t that Marius disagreed with his points, in fact he agreed with him on many of them, but surely he could enjoy more pleasant conversation? At least he would listen attentively to François’ reports on the local bird population he had been observing that week, as they all did.

The commotion of this group of four attracted the attention of another student, the fifth and final member, a Monsieur Albéric Jean-Pierre Lafitte.

He was an average man, mild, good-natured and good-mannered, the kind of attitude that came from modest money, not quite old enough to have earned him a title or to have seen his family fall in the Revolution. He was the kind that followed in his father’s steps into law, not out of particular interest but because he knew nothing else, and of his life he had been expecting nothing else. While he did not seem to mind this - in fact, he seemed to have a very promising career in front of him - he seemed bored.

Marius thought that this was most certainly the reason he had ended up in this queer yet close circle. He often acted as the judge-umpire to the arguments of Gérard and René, like he counted it as practice for court. With Gérard’s staunch attitudes and René’s deliberate, feigned ignorance, Marius did not blame Albéric for taking them as a sort of case study.

~

And thats about it. More character details, including some physical descriptions, will probably come later in the text? (I can't decide if physical descriptions would fit into the above passage very well). The plot of the fic is a dinner party, so they will all get a chance to shine beside their friend Marius, with Cosette, Valjean, Javert and Gillenormand thrown into the mix. It's a disaster waiting to happen.

[chocolatepot]

Twitter is rapidly sinking as people are only allowed to look at it for about ten minutes a day, so I thought I would put together a post explaining the best way to get started on Mastodon! It can be an intimidating prospect as it's not as immediately user-friendly as Twitter or other corporate social media sites.

Selecting a server

The main difference between Mastodon and Twitter is that you don't just "sign up for Mastodon". Mastodon is effectively made up of hundreds of small sites (called "instances") that are all interconnected ("federated") and use the same interface. The instance you choose has only a minor effect on your experience. The main one to be aware of is that if an instance is known to be poorly moderated and have users who cause a lot of trouble, other instances may unlink from it ("defederate") and make it more difficult for people on it to interact with you. This is rare. The very big, unthemed instances like mastodon.social are more likely to have this problem than any fannish one, in my experience. (You can also make a personal choice to block an entire instance if you have an issue with it.)

The other effect is that each instance has its own universal feed of all users on it.

The sidebar looks almost exactly like Twitter's, except for "local" and "federated". Your home feed is just the people you follow. "Local" is everyone on your instance, and "federated" is everyone on any instance yours is federated with. The local feed is why it's worthwhile to choose an instance that has some sort of theme you're interested in, like fandom, tech, queer issues, history, etc.

The two main fannish instances I'm aware of are fandom.ink and federatedfandom.net. There's also wandering.shop but that seems to be more for writers, in my experience. If you want a different sort of instance, just google "[topic] mastodon instance" and you should find it.

Applying to your instance

Because instances are more tightly moderated than the rest of social media, you can't always immediately get into the one you want. (Though I suspect that many have opened up slightly as Twitter flails.) You may need to submit some kind of application and wait a few days.

If you know someone on the instance you want to join, they may be able to get you an invite code so you can skip the queue. I have unlimited invites for fandom.ink, hit me up if you want to join.

You can also join an instance that's currently taking new accounts and then transfer into the one you want later. For the impatient souls.

Posting

The mechanics of posting are just like Twitter's.

You type in the box, you hit "toot" (I know), and out it goes. You may notice that you get a 500 character limit! This is nice.

If you add an image, make sure to add alt text. Not including alt text may get you flamed or shamed. You can also make a poll, set privacy levels, and add a content/spoiler/trigger warning that will require people to click through to see the text.

Use of hashtags is strongly encouraged on Mastodon. I've seen some talk praising Tumblr's style of having a separate field for tags and suggesting Mastodon add that, but I don't know if it'll happen. But unlike Twitter, there's an earnest culture of incorporating tags into your text (eg "I just bought a new #fountainpen") and following tags to get posts about different topics. This is the main way to find people with similar interests to follow, outside of your local feed.

It's also Mastodon culture to write an introductory post with your interests, including hashtags, so that people can find you.

Something else to be aware of is that you can edit your posts! If anyone has already rt'd ("boosted") them - they will just get a notification of your edit.

You cannot qrt on Mastodon at this time. It's a hotly debated topic. You will have to settle for boosting and then replying, or making your own post with context and linking to the post you want to qrt.

Following other people

If the person you want to follow is on your instance, that's all well and good. Click on their name, go to their profile, click the "follow" button.

If they are not on your instance, you need to make sure that you're accessing them through your instance. Clicking on their name from your federated feed, or if someone has boosted them onto your home feed, will automatically take you to the version of their profile on your instance. Also all well and good.

If you get to their profile from somewhere else, such as a direct link from another social media platform, that's a problem. If you try to follow, their instance will bleat at you that you don't have an account. There are two ways to get around this.

One is to paste their entire username (eg "@chocolatepot@fandom.ink") into the search bar on your instance, from your home feed. The other is to navigate to "http://[your server address]/[their whole username]" in your address bar. Both will take you to the same place.

[naavispider]

Merciless

What if, 16 years after his Ambassador Programme failed, Mercer returns Bridgehead to deliver his quarterly mining report to Ardmore, only to run into Quaritch? What if he'd heard whispers of a human boy captured from the hands of the Na'vi, with incredible physiological adaptations? And what if Quaritch knew of Mercer's merciless past... his history with children who don't belong? (Inspired by a prompt from @hyperfixatedfandomer 💞)

“There’s only so much you can do, boss…” Wainfleet’s voice tailed off as they entered the mess hall. The canteen was filled with soldiers hungry for lunch, who all looked up at the recoms as they entered. They still hadn’t gotten used to seeing them around base. 

The men weren’t what got Quaritch’s guard up, however. There was something else. A face, across the room… one he hadn’t seen in sixteen years. 

Quaritch’s usually alert tail stilled behind him. John Mercer’s presence filled any room he occupied with a heavy sense of trepidation. It was a feeling that Quaritch had become familiar with as a human, one that he himself exuded. Looking at the disgraced RDA leader now, Quaritch was disturbed to find that the sense of unease exuded by his ugly presence had only grown.

“As I live and breathe…” Mercer’s eyes caught Quaritch’s and widened in disbelief. He had always been a short man, even shorter now that Quaritch had grown several feet himself, but unlike most men who seemed to shrink in Quaritch’s presence, Mercer stood up straighter. His thick set eyebrows framed his calculating, dark eyes. “Miles Quaritch, they told me you’d come back, but this is something…”

“Mercer,” Quaritch greeted him shortly. He closed the short gap across the canteen. “It’s been a while.”

“And Lyle Wainfleet too,” Mercer’s eyes roved over Quaritch’s second in command, taking them both in. 

“I didn’t expect to find you here,” Lyle commented awkwardly.

Mercer’s lips curled up in an unpleasant smile. “I wasn’t about to pass up a shot at revenge. Much like yourselves I assume. What have they got you running around for now, then?”

Quaritch’s tail flicked involuntarily behind his back. The conversation around them had quietened, the soldiers who were eating nearby interested in this exchange, though they tried to hide it. 

Something in Quaritch told him not to divulge the specifics of his latest mission to Mercer. The man opposite him was known for his brutality and mercilessness, and an uncomfortable sensation was starting to prick at the back of Miles’s neck.

He sniffed. “Same old business, Mercer. Sully’s still out there. Which means we got races to run.”

Mercer appraised him for a moment, as if still taking in Quaritch’s new body. “There’s no doubt they got the best parts of you in there,” he said slyly. “I always admired your… commitment to the cause.”

Quaritch nodded. “What about you, Mercer? I thought the Ambassador Programme closed down after the war.” A sliver of unease ran its way down Quaritch’s spine. A nagging sensation that even as he said them, his words could be wrong. 

A sly smirk slithered its way across Mercer’s dark features. The soldier who he’d just been talking to grabbed his tray and moved on, leaving them to it. “The Ambassador Programme was cut short too soon. We were in the process of wielding great results.”

Quaritch nodded, making sure to keep his ears from flicking backwards in annoyance. If there was anyone who would be able to read him, it would be John Mercer. 

“I’m in the mines now. Overseeing production in the North. Only checking in with base every now and then to report on progress. It doesn’t quite have the… job satisfaction… as my previous work.” The slippery tone of his words floated across the air ominously. “Speaking of, I’ve heard some very interesting things about you, Colonel.”

Quaritch had become too still. 

“Tell me... Is it true what they’re saying?”

“I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Quaritch replied evenly, trying to appear uninterested. His heart was thundering. 

“Come now, Quaritch. Don’t be coy.” His ugly smirk was back in place, and Mercer took another step closer, leaning in so that the other soldiers wouldn’t be able to hear. “There’s a human boy on base. One that grew up on Pandora, with the natives.” 

Quaritch schooled his expression, looking down at the ugly little man in front of him. How had Mercer found out about the kid? “He’s being ground for information now. There won’t be much left of his brain when they’re through with him. He’s worthless.”

“Oh, I’m sure I could get some results.”

Beside him, Wainfleet took a step towards Mercer. “The kid is in SecOps custody. There are no plans to release him.”

Mercer turned to Lyle, his hungry expression settling into one of boredom. “A shame.” He returned his icy eyes to Quaritch, each word dripping with threat. “A great shame. That boy is worth a great deal.”

Quaritch couldn’t help the flinch his hand made towards Mercer. Every inch of him wanted to throttle the vile man standing before him. He had to cool it. 

“As my Corporal said, the boy is undergoing information extraction. He’ll be put to use by our SecOps. Apologies if you had any interest.” 

Mercer never stopped smiling, as if he already had a plan. It was beginning to scare the shit out of Quaritch. Eventually, Mercer made a gesture of acceptance, jovially exclaiming that he might still ‘get his hands on’ Spider eventually. 

It was all Quaritch could do to nod goodbye curtly as Mercer turned to rejoin his companion at a table across the hall. 

“What a psychopath,” Lyle mumbled. 

Quaritch didn’t know how to respond. He had never seen how creepy Mercer’s attitude was until now. In all his years as a human, it had never bothered him. Hell, he’d even been curious to hear about Mercer’s progress with TAP. Why now did it boil his blood to picture Mercer locking Spider into one of his science experiments? 

It was no worse than what the kid was facing now in the Neuroscanner. 

Quaritch set his jaw, thinking hard. “Spider needs to talk.”

With Mercer sniffing around, eager to snap Spider up into some sick reimagined version of the Ambassador Programme, Quaritch doubted that Ardmore would be lenient, even if the kid did talk. 

“Okay, but what then?” Lyle pressed as they grabbed their food. “He reveals Sully's location and then… the RDA dispose of him?”

“Jesus, Lyle, I don’t know!” Quaritch didn’t want to think about it, because he didn’t have the answers. 

“If the kid talks, he’s sealing the nail in his coffin.”

Quaritch looked up sharply from the coffee he was pouring. 

“He’s of no more use to Ardmore,” Lyle said, with the air of delivering bad news to a sick patient. 

“That’s not gonna happen.”

He didn’t know how, but he had to make a deal with Ardmore. And he had to do it before Mercer got there first. 

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

“Well, well, well. John Mercer. I never thought I’d have the privilege.” General Ardmore flicked the report closed on her desk, determining that that particular problem would have to wait. “What brings you to my door?” She narrowed her eyes shrewdly, though she thought she had an inkling already. 

“General,” Mercer saluted before entering her office, closing the door behind him. “Thank you for seeing me. Word of your successes gets around. I’m sure you’re a busy woman.” He paused, but Ardmore made no sign of replying. He decided to cut to the chase. “I assume you know about my previous projects on Pandora?”

“You assume correct.”

“Well, mining is essential to our progress here, but I’m sure you can understand it isn’t where my heart lies.”

Ardmore sighed. “Your efforts in helping to colonise the Western Frontier have not gone unnoticed. You’ve made a strong vice president in resources acquisition.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” He bowed his head. “However I cannot deny that I feel somewhat… misplaced in my current deployment. My previous programmes-”

“Your previous programmes were shut down. And for good reason.”

“The Ambassador Programme was leading to real results!” Mercer urged, taking a step towards Ardmore’s desk. His passion came through in a way Ardmore hadn’t expected of the washed up, sleazy ex-mission leader. He came alive when he spoke of TAP. 

“I can promise you right now, if you hand the human boy over to me, I will get you results.”

Ardmore considered him, joining her hands together on the table in front of her. Mercer looked desperate - greedy - which was precisely the quality that worried her most about him. She wasn’t above brutality in war, but Mercer didn’t seem to have a conscience at all. He proved that when he ordered the massacre of the TAP children. 

“And precisely what kind of results do you think I’m after?” she asked.

“You want the location of Jake Sully, right? So do I. I can get you that, first and foremost. But the boy is worth far more than just that. He’s grown up on Pandora. His whole physiology is different - he has adaptations we can study and utilise. He can teach us so much about how to adapt in this environment. We can learn how to use this to our advantage!”

“I hear what you’re saying, Mercer. And yes, eventually it would make sense to study him. But we are at war. And there are other considerations to be taken into account.”

Mercer paused. “Other considerations, ma’am?”

It was sensitive information, but Ardmore saw no point in hiding the truth. “The boy. He’s the biological son of Miles Quaritch.”

Mercer’s jaw had tensed, his eyes narrowing. 

Ardmore continued. “The recombinant Colonel has already started to form… an attachment. The RDA poured billions into his creation and we cannot afford any… defects. The situation is sensitive. I’m afraid we are bound by keeping Quaritch on side.”

At this, Mercer visibly bristled. “So you’re holding back the progress of all mankind on the whim of not wanting to upset your Colonel?” 

His voice had risen just too much. Ardmore wouldn’t entertain this tangent any longer. “That, is not your place to question, Mercer. It is my decision what happens on this moon, and I do not take kindly to insubordinates.”

This seemed to have stumped Merer, though he still surveyed her with a foreboding glint in his dark eyes. “Of course not, ma’am.” His voice was silky smooth, laced with poison. “I would never mean to imply I disapprove of your decisions, hard as they may be.”

“Is that all, Mercer?”

Mercer smiled. Ardmore wasn’t easily intimidated, but he had the uncomfortable ability to make her skin crawl. “Yes, ma’am. I apologise if I overstepped the line.”

“See that your next report has the highest gross profit,” she said by means of dismissal. 

Mercer bowed his head respectfully and was about to leave before turning, his hand on the doorknob. “If you run into any… problems… with your Colonel, you know where I’ll be.”

With that, the greasy haired man disappeared around the corner and out of view.

[mdhwrites]

Do you think Boscha was treated unfairly in the context of the show? I know you've said before what you would have wanted her characterization to be, but what do you think of her character as we have it in TOH - and do you think fan and narrative treatment lines up with this?

I'm going to ignore the fan element. Fandom is going to fandom after all. However, I can easily say where her narrative treatment went wrong in the show!

She should not have been in S3.

This is always a fun topic to me essentially because I am pro-Boscha. You ask me what her character is, the potential of it, etc. like that and I can give you reams of thoughts. However, I also said, before S2 came out and I was working on a fanfic where Boscha was quickly becoming the main character, that I didn't think Boscha should show up again. The reason is pretty simple too. TOH already had a lot of threads to pull and Boscha's narrative use was over. Honestly, Hexside was essentially was used up by then.

Boscha is a minor supporting character to the main character's love interest. Not a major supporting character, a minor one. Amity's family is MUCH more important to her character than her one bitchy friend. The only use Boscha had narratively was to both contrast how Amity was changing and to also allow Amity an antagonist to overcome as she made her way to being on the side of good. Her being a one note bully is perfect for that and exactly how she should have been written. Winging it Like Witches capitalizes on this and fulfills both of her purposes and Amity cuts Boscha out of her life so... Why are we still seeing her? She is no longer even a supporting cast member to the love interest, she is just a floating character in the background.

And in S2, we get a fine answer for that. She's essentially one of the townsfolk of Wartwood in Amphibia. Someone who can show up for a quick gag but doesn't take up too much time. We're not trying to progress her character, we're just taking advantage of the fact that she's not gone. She's a gag but it's genuinely rooted in her character unlike the one joke that King or Hooty have that we're just supposed to mock. This worked. Period.

Then S3 tries to give her an arc. Why? Well... Because it doesn't want to be a kid's show. Kid's shows after all, like Amphibia, have characters who don't have some deep backstory or brooding complexity, they're just... Fun. They're nice. They aren't complicated. Boscha, WAY too late, was made to be complicated during a shortened season so the show could claim it had one more redemption? So it could claim its shallow bully character wasn't shallow? And she takes up a good amount of time in this episode for this when you have THREE SPECIALS. The stress of the world ending isn't enough to cause Willow to lose control, she needs one more push from Boscha. We finally have to acknowledge that what Amity did was a complete dick move to her best friend and then not actually acknowledge it because Amity gets to just be morally superior instead of a decent human being to this girl having a mental breakdown. It's awkward, clunky and does NO favors to Boscha besides just kind of making her look pathetic, which is a pretty common trick in TOH for trying to redeem someone. Boscha isn't so bad because she's actually a loser and not as bad as someone else in her nearby vicinity.

Why? Why do this? Why do this TWO SEASONS after Boscha was no longer narratively useful? It is just pointless to your overall story so it should have been cut. THAT is Boscha's biggest problem in the show and if anyone told me they couldn't forgive her for adding filler to S3, I couldn't tell them they're wrong.

I love Boscha. That means I know when to let her go, something the show should have learned if they actually cared about her. See you next tale.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[nikikikiko]

So idk if its just me but has anyone else noticed how gods in Soul Eater are typically depicted with monstrous or non-human depictions? The gods we DO know of are as follows:

Lord Death, Eibon, Excalibur, the Great Old One of Power, Asura and, eventually Kid.

Now, ignoring Kid for the moment, notice how all of them have a monstrous appearance that can be humanoid, but sometimes aren't. Personally, I believe that adds to represent how inhuman the gods truly are (exception of Kid ofc).

Like let's take Lord Death, Asura and Kid because they're the easiest tbh and literally the range of the spectrum but

Lord Death doesn't look ANYTHING near a human and it's very obvious, there's nothing humanoid about this guy. This funky freak. Because he's very inhuman as compared to his sons, as Lord Death lacks fear and is in a constant uphill battle learning how to interact with humans and protect them. However, at the end of the day, no matter how many emotions Lord Death will learn, he is inhuman. He will do whatever it takes to seek out his original goal (order) and do anything for it. While any other parent might have huge conflict and regret over skinning their child alive and sealing them away, Lord Death does not. He does not have these conflicts. He makes a lot of mistakes with Asura because he is not human and,

Asura is more human than Lord Death originally thought. Asura's not human in the way Kid is human, but Asura is already a lot more human than Lord Death could ever be, with his first ever form being a human one. It's only ever ruined by Asura wearing scarves and shirts, giving Asura a more inhuman appearance. Asura is the first of the gods in Soul Eater, at the time of his creation, to be as human as he was. But because this wasn't precedented, nobody thought to treat Asura like a human from time to time but rather treat him like a god always. This would cause Asura to become a kishin, and become more monstrous in appearance for every form he takes. I like to believe Asura's kishin form directly relates to how he views gods, something terrifying and to be scared of and inherently divine, so his form reflects that in a twisted and distorted way.

But Kid, the final of this trio, is the most human and that is due to intentionally complete humanity. Kid looks like a human, he grows like a human, he acts like a human, he is basically a human plus plus. This is because he is the most human of the gods in Soul Eater, and intentionally so (i discussed this before but yk). The one time we see him begin to lose his humanity, he gains lines on his mouth mimicking skull teeth with an eerie calm and deadly atmosphere that begins to erase his humanity, but he's still human. He still looks human, he still thinks human. And unlike making the same mistake that costed Lord Death his first child, Lord Death actually learned to let Kid be human and be a god, which provided a much better relationship.

Basically, gods are depicted as very inhuman and monstrous in soul eater and it's really neat to see.

[the-sinful-voice-witch]

Things I love ❤ or I hate 💔 in Powerpuff girls fanfics

Important, this is completely written with my personal preferences and individual taste, is not meant to attack anyone so remember: If you love what I hate is ok and if you hate what I love is ok too. Let's respect each other's individual preferences in fanfics and characters 🫂, also I admit some things that I might dislike are justified to happen depending of the gender of the story whether is dark, or just a bit serious but with comedy, slice of life... Or if the author simply wants to change some aspects of the characters and be creative, no one is obligated to indulge my preferences. (By the way this things could be something I have read so many times in lots of fanfics or it could be something I only read once, either way they're going to the list) :

Bubbles reaching a point she snaps and becomes hardcore and maybe a bit sadist. Love it, the trope of being the cutest🥰 character until you get crossed 🤬 is one of my favorites, all cuteness has its dark side😈. I love part of Bubbles point in fight is being dismissed by villains only to make them strongly regret it later.

Professor Utonium being an overprotective dad and intimidating to the RRB. Hate it, more like hating it is more like if you exaggerate with his overprotection is annoying 😑😑 and the situation where he is able to intimidate the RRB is just hilariously ridiculous and impossible to me🤪😬... Like if he can intimidate the boys what are the girls for in the first place why do they need them then? 🤷‍♀️ It doesn't make sense, also the Professor is a very sweet accepting person and also he has some sense of guilt towards Mojo Jojo who is the responsable of the RRBs, he would probably want to help them going to the right path rather than trying to antagonize them being an "intimidating" Dad.

Bubbles being a weak pushover who is constantly compared to her sisters and needs another character help to get stronger because otherwise she is useless. Hate it, as if she was less than her sisters, I just can't take it if she gets dismissed or bullied and she just accepts it and somebody else has to defend her 😤😤(not in all escenarios thought, I mean certain situations specifically). Bubbles is sensitive but she has a temper, she won't take bullying just like that, she can fight her two sisters at the same time and they never hesitate to call for her help if they are overpowered. There's a fanfic where they have to give up some classes to watch over the boys and Bubbles got the worst part having to give up something she loves, Blossom not bad intentioned but still thoughtless and insensitive says that because of her good grades and Buttercup being a sport star they give prestige to the school unlike her🤡🤡 and Bubbles just accepts this, she never speaks up against this or complains! 🤬🤬What she renounced to caused other students to bully her and she still doesn't stands up for herself, she doesn't even tell her sisters and someone else has to defend her WTF, excuse me?🤬🤬 Nope. Or other fic where she and Butch have a relationship and the whole premise is how useless she is in battle, being compared to Buttercup all the time and needing Butch to teach her how to fight... HELLO??? NOPE.🙅‍♀️

Butch's multiple nicknames for Buttercup. Love it, honestly Buttercup has the biggest amount of nicknames, mostly given by Butch : Butters, Butterfly (they could name their daughter that), Butt-Cup, Butterbitch, Butterbabe, Bitterbitch, Butterbutt... lol 🤣🤣🤣

Buttercup being the sister with the most experience in love. Love it, seriously I just love the irony and contrast of the puff that was the most grossed out about romance and kissing, the known toughest fighter being actually the first one having deep serious romantic feelings and relationships and being first experiencing heartbreak. 😭😭😭

The Blues always having the easiest love story or starting a general RRB-PPG story with them already in love. Hate it, seriously whether you chose to make Boomer a jerk or a super sweet guy you shouldn't make that easy a relationship, I mean where is the good juice? This two get lovey dovey two fast and easy like they can't have a decent funny banter like their siblings!? 😫Trust me they can and they should otherwise is too boring. I specially dislike it when at the beginning of the story they are already in love or even in a relationship, where is the juicy process?? 😐

The greens starting with violence a lot of banter only to become bros, (yes, Buttercup is a Bro) and besties and eventually falling in love and taking a long time to accept it. Love it, oh boy I LOVE it, the only time I like a slow burn is when the characters are like this, the greens are just so entertaining,👌👌 so aggressively in denial and it can get so deep a wholesome! My favorite is in that fanfic where he actually starts obsessingly lusting over Blossom in such exaggerated way that when he starts to fall for Buttercup it created a marvelous deep contrast between the shallow attraction and the hopeless deep feelings of love and is just so beautifully written (even though the reds are terrible and the blues are bland in that fic) , seriously you can feel hard the difference of how he sees the beauty of Buttercup in the simplest and most meaningful way full of feeling😭💗 compared to his constant obsessed shallow remarks towards Blossom's "hotness". It was just too good, I don't know if I ever going to read another fic with the Greens being that good again. 🥺💚💚

Bubbles being the one with the most emotional intelligence. Love it, is just the best when characters around her are used to her being slow thinking and having her head in the clouds to suddenly realize that she picks up instantly others people feelings and understands them perfectly. After all Blossom is the mind 🧠, Buttercup is the body 💪and Bubbles is the heart 🫀of the group.

Butch getting a kick out of fighting Buttercup. Love it, a classic Butch being a masochist per usual, never gets old. 👊😂😂

Boomer being a clumsy macho tsundere. Love it, I'm weak with tsundere characters and I think it fits him, he trying to act all macho but ending up being super clumsy making Bubbles think he is cute. 🥰

Buttercup being described as someone always dressed with chandals, hoodie and baggy clothes... Ect and specially making her wear that kind of clothes because she is ashamed of her femenine attributes. Hate it, because I don't see Buttercup as that kind of tomboy 😕, she would wear skirts or dresses as long as they suit her style (like of course she would hate a princess tutú duh! but denim skirts exist ok) and also I just can't picture her being ashamed of the femininity of her body,😤she is only shy about feelings or intimacy but if she has a worked out body with muscles to show, boobs or not she WILL show off to brag.

Buttercup being popular with girls while being straight. Love it, I like girls fangirling over a good tomboy but I also love that you don't fall in the stereotype of the tomboy having to be the lesbian, lesbians can be also femenine and girly ok?💅💄💋 I also like the jokes about her being a lesbian, because of course if she was actually one then it wouldn't be a joke. 😇😂

Blossom being: too correct, entitled, Mary Sue, cold, party pooper, too serious, too mean, too bossy controlling, too victimitist or sacrificed, too perfect... All this not as a puntual moment in the story but she being like this all the time. Hate it, but ok to be fair is true that Blossom has a lot of attributes that can make characters be obnoxious but I swear she also have other attributes that make up for it and create a good balance: yes she is self-centered, but still caring and supporting to others,😌 yes she is prideful but when her pride is hurt she pouts and that's cute🤭, yes she is bossy but she also knows she doesn't have full control on her sisters and she can be a cool girlboss😎, yes she can be serious...sometimes because mostly she is really silly and likes to have fun🙃🙂, yes she can be all about following the rules but we all know she always ends up breaking them when is convenient to her🤫, she can be selfish or mean but that is not her everyday, she studies a lot but likes comics and video games too... She is a good 3 dimensional character.

Also Blossom being humble and modest like for real not pretending to be. Hate it, she humble?😂 Ja, NOPE. Following my previous statement, she is a bit full of herself despite having insecurities but writers tend to make her modest because loving too much your appearance and brag about it it's seen as a bad thing but there are plenty of pleasant characters that brag a lot about their looks and are lovable like Stella from winx club or Rouge the bat. I like Blossom to be that character that once she notices her beauty gets good reactions she is going to own it and walk through the hall like in a catwalk with her chin up 💅😎(only to more likely crash into a closed door or something because she was so busy enjoying that she didn't pay attention). Trust me, most of the time the excessive modesty ends up being extremely annoying. Example, beach day scene I have read that made me roll my eyes hard: RRB, PPG and some of their school friends, here Blossom is uncharacteristically antisocial and prefers to hide away and read a book while covering herself as much as she can (because of course wearing a swimsuit being attractive is such an indecent thing to do 😑) Instead of playing with her sisters and friends, but at some point she decided to play volley and OMG she uncovered herself and showed her swimsuit!😱 Only to cover herself again fast...😐 Bricks legs wavered like he almost faint... The boys gasp Butch feigns a heart attack blah blah. This was just so meh🙄😬! I would have liked it more if she made a sexy stunt purposely to provoke Brick who is a big jerk here so she could gloat on his reaction without any shame about her body. In fact the opposite when Brick took off his shirt was better and funny, he did it to scape from his brothers who where dragging him and then a horny Buttercup destroyed it to shamelessly look at his abs 🤣🤣(that was a lot funnier than Butch reaction to Blossom) ,I guess is because Brick was only annoyed and grumpy but he wasn't ashamed or uncomfortable with the attractiveness of his body. I'm am being a sexist bitch? Nah, 🤷‍♀️a girl who is uncomfortable with being pretty(with her specific background) and is a teenager acting like a entitled prudish bitter adult lady at the same time😬 is just not my cup of tea... Not my Blossom, this Blossom gives hard slut-shaming vibes😒.... Ok ok I know I roasted her way too much, but I can't help it! Blossom is supposed to look up to miss Bellum and Wonder Woman and I totally think this one would disapprove them showing legs and Cleaveage 😫 DISHONOR that's something only the garbage Blossom from the Garbage 2016 bullshit reboot would do, don't make your fanfic Blossoms do the same!! 😭😭

The boys playing affectionately even as teens or adults. Love it, people don't give credit enough to this kind of scenes and they are so wholesome, I remember one fanfic that had a chapter where Boomer and Butch became dogs 🐶🐶and Boomer jumps on Brick and they start wrestling and the Butch jumps in too! 🥰And they were having fun I almost never get to read this kind of things because they usually write Brick like too cool, grumpy and wannabe a serious adult for this kind of thing.

Brick being a hot eye candy with so much bad boy aura and his brothers being jealous of that. Love it, ok when its about the girls I hate when there's only one super popular so I have to admit I'm being a bit sexist but i can't help it! the bros being dramatic because they don't get the same reaction as Brick from the fangirls is funny😆😆, they are handsome too 😍but Brick has the best brooding bad boy aura, like I can forget Brick being too much of a jerk if it gets me an emotional sibling conflict,👌👌that way I can dislike him but I can like his brothers development. Brotherly jealousy like this gives good boy drama.

Butch being kind of a pervert or a manwhore. Love it, specifically when is the kind of comical pervert that like in the animes gets bonked or smacked or punched in the face any time he tries to be flirty funny and says something gross. 🤣🤣🤣

Buttercup being a tsundere. Love it, just like with Boomer it fits her, we all now she is shy with sappy stuff, scared of having feelings, being defensive, blushing hard... I'm sure Bubbles thinks her sister is cute when she is like this 😍😍

Bubbles being innocently eager and Boomer being too awkward to handle it. Love it, you know that thing when a boy gets cocky and so sure of himself with a seemingly innocent pure girl and when he finally conquers her unexpectedly she gets forward and eager and suddenly the boy loses the confidence and gets awkward? Oh that's a good juice 😏 🧃

Making Brick doing everything Blossom does but better. Hate it, ok like I already said Blossom is so cultured and good at school because she works hard for it and likes studying😤, of course Brick would be as smart and cunning as her but making him out of the blue a genius that gets just as good or even better grades as her and also be so cultured too while being nonchalant about it is a huge NOPE for me🙄🙄, I accept something like Blossom roasting him because of his grades at school and he getting pissed starts to study to get better grades just to get back at her (making her be impressed, but pissed) 😂😂but I need to see the effort and the reason of motivation!😤 Because I don't see him liking studying and I won't take a genius that achieves that just because. The thing they could have in common I could believe are comics and playing guitar, let brick get turned on with her guitar skills please. 😆

Brick having a breakdown and crying. Love it, normally this guy is always the grumpiest or coldest or the most jerk jackass asshole in fanfics so when he actually has emotions and he displays them, and cries is just so satisfying... Love it. 🫶😃

Blossom being always the one sacrificing herself. Hate it, i see this way too often, writers tend to do it because she is the leader and because she is seen as the big sister (that's another one I hate, they popped to life at the same time there's no big or little sister😤) but I'd like to see the other sisters doing the sacrifice and see how it affects Blossom more often, give leader girl a break.

Blossom's sisters seemly being psychological unable to disobey her orders as if she was indisputable and if they disobey is seen as a terrible or stupid thing to do always. Hate it, sorry but that situation fits better with the RRB given Brick's intimidating nature, Blossom leads hers sisters and can get bossy but her sisters will never obey her if they don't agree with her,💪 they won't blindly do whatever she asks always and she doesn't have the right to forbid things to them, no like they will listen just because.😌 Remember the sisters aren't afraid to call her out, their relationship has a more love and trust nature, with the boys is ok because they probably think family love and trust is for sissies. 🤐

One of the girls being the most popular girl in school without a understandable justification. Hate it, in general I don't like when is only ONE of them because the three girls (aside being literal superheros) have enough traits to have their own individual fans but more importantly I need popularity to have a proper believable reason🧐. For example, PPGZ Bubbles isn't at all what I expected for an anime Bubbles but her popularity with boys at school was at least believable🤔, she was a lady like elegant girl, really kind and friendly with everyone, cheerful and that cares a lot about her appearance and that's exactly what you see in the show, for how simple the anime was you could see that she wasn't popular just because "cute". In contrast there is a fanfic Blossom is said to be top most popular girl in the school and the reasoning is: "she is so hot and has good legs"😬 because she dances (there's like an obsession about her legs) but then she has a really repellent insufferable entitled personality 🤬and is not really nice... I mean she is cold polite but not nice nice ☹️☹️(she is even cold and a bit thoughtless with her sisters in general) and apparently doesn't care too much about her appearance, mostly only worries about showing skin...🙄🙄 Someone like that is the most popular girl? I just don't believe that popularity statement. (By the way, I found weird that she was the only puff with good legs when the other sisters also do activities that can get you nice legs too, like being a cheerleader or playing every fucking school sport, so Buttercup's body is all cut and toned everywhere except her legs? Yeah I know I'm being a picky bitch🤐 about this but you get what I mean?)

Blossom being a funny drama queen. Love it, ohhh I love it,😆😆 she often overreacts over not big deals in the show, so seeing her being dramatic because she didn't get a A+ on every subject, or because she lost her favorite bow, or because she laughed so hard drinking a smoothie the drink came out of her nose🤣🤣 and then suddenly is the end of the world is just the best👌. I mean the other sisters are dramatic as well over silly things too but I think Blossom is funnier. But careful because depending of how is written it can backfire and she could become too victimist. 🙅‍♀️

Blossom and Bubbles being sassy bitches (the funny kind). Love it, usually is Buttercup the one who gets to give more comebacks and picks up a fight first and also play pranks but the other two usually have good behavior but then there's those precious moments when they are mischievous and get sassy and savage 😂😂 (remember in the show how Blossom messed with Brick in the boys are back in town? 🤣🤣 or there were moments where Bubbles innocently roasted Buttercup 😂?)

One of the RRB or the PPG overdoing the fight and getting all bloody and banged up and the other worried sick. Love it, oh boy I'm addicted to this kind of thing 👌👌 the bloodiest the better, I think the best one I read was one with the greens that ended with them sleeping together in a stretcher in the professor's lab😫😫😫😭 I'm dying! 💘

CPR situations. Love it or hate it depending of how is written, whether is drama or comedy.

Sick day plot. Love it, just like when they get injured, viruses and fevers are also welcome!😆👌 I prefer the boys getting sick over the girls because boys tend to act like soft big babies 🥺and crave attention and comfort🥰 (sometimes without noticing they are doing that and getting embarrassed later...), I'm so weak for this.

Beach or lake or swimming pool plot. Love it, classic anime episode that is always horny comedy. 😎👙

Bunny being alive. Not completely hate it but is just not my cup of tea, Bunny's existence is one of the few angst things I can take and I do love fics where she is mentioned or where she appears as a ghost or spirit... Those are tears I don't mind shed. 😢😢

Mayor character death. Ok, I'm not going to say I hate it... But most of the time I can't take it, like I become irrational and wish for a deux ex Machina🙃 so the dead character is resurrected... I once read two angst fics, in one brick slowly dies from a cancer and in the other buttercup is dead and butch is mourning her in a extremely mentally painful way for me...🥲🥲 I regret so much reading that, it completely destroyed me. Normally is only if is one of the RRB or the PPG that I can't endure it.🥲🥲😭😭

Sex. Love it or hate it depending completely on the writer skills on this matter. 😏

Princess Morebucks being obsessed with Brick. Hate it, like... I know she thought of them as cool and wanted to join forces but I think after how they treat her she must have a forever super grudge against them😬😬, and she probably looks down on men, being crazy about one of the dudes who belittled you and also get to have superpowers you want and don't have is not believable to me🙅‍♀️, I mean they hurt Princess pride and ego, she is not going to put that behind to pursue Brick, besides is a kind of plot drama that usually is only pointless and annoying soooo... Nope.

The girls being affectionate with each other. Love it, the warm wholesome sisterhood moments are beautiful let's see😫👌🥰, Bubbles sleeping in Blossoms lap, Buttercup accepting Bubbles affection after she did something for her, Blossom crying in Bubbles arms, Buttercup hugging Blossom from behind while she is having a breakdown and one of my favorites was the one that they are teens and sleep in separated beds but because Blossom had trouble sleeping Bubbles joined their beds and later Buttercup joins too! So beautiful! 😫😫👏👏👏

The Ruffs being friends with the Puffs that aren't their love interests. Love it, because they can have interesting relationships, honestly Brick and Bubbles is an underrated friendship, I'll love if she was able to terrify him to defend her sister and boyfriend 🤣🤣👌👌. Butch could ask Bubbles for love advice, Boomer could ask Blossom for help with Homework... Stuff like that 😁.

Girl... That's a lot of text between statements... I'm so sorry 😅😅 who knows if I'll think of more things and make a part two... 😅😅🙃

[xkleipsis]

High and Low

P.3 arranged marriage

Norihisa Hyuga x reader

P.1 P.2 P.3

—————————————————————————

Before i knew it i was already at the grocery store, buying the food needed which slowly filled up the cart.

He didn’t even had the decency to offer to help or at say he’ll pay for it, i would’ve refused but still…mannerless man. After paying for all the food i stared at the filled plastics bags, I should’ve told him to tag along for help.

Not even half way through i am already taking my third break from carrying everything back at the house. I could’ve called for a taxi but it would’ve taken to long plus its the weekend..should i just try and call to tell him to come and help?

As i took out my phone, ready to dial his number a man with a cane, slightly tanned and dyed hair, wearing all white approaches me asking if i need help, now i know the whole thing about stranger danger but my hands were really hurting alongside with my back, not to mention Hyuga would’ve definitely refused to help me. I mean he did it before too, when i needed help putting away sone stuff at home, and the man does look well built.

I reluctantly nodded, as he hands me his cane before picking up all the grocery bags and telling me to lead the way. While walking he introduced himself as Rocky, a familiar name, apparently he owns a club too. He smelled of smoke too just like Hyuga, maybe a little less strong but Rocky was clearly a gentleman that was with no doubt. Unlike someone else.

We talked the whole way, where he gave recommendations of places alongside with places i should not go nearby as not safe for women, he didn’t joked around but he did smiled slightly whenever i did. It felt nice, it’s been almost 3 months since i came here and i barely talked with anyone unless work related or everyday interactions at public places. But now, I didn’t feel as lonely.

Whenever i offered to carry one of the bags he simply refused saying something along the lines of “a woman should never carry a burden when a man is nearby” something like that, which made me chuckle and just thanked him.

Before i knew, we were almost close to the house so that’s where we stopped our tracks. I sincerely thanked him as he just nodded before bidding farewells, ‘maybe i should visit his club one day’. I think as i take all the bag in the house and start preparing everything.

By evening i was almost done with the food, and honestly i was proud of it. I did took courses in the past but its just the aftermath of cooking never appealed to me therefore causing me to never cook, though i always made some mistakes here and there, i was sure tonight itd go well.

The food was all set, alongside with drinks, desserts and all, its just could also feel the fatigue in me so i decided to take a shower before everything started. By the time i was done, music and voices already filled the first floor of the house and outside, not the second floor as apparently it was off limits, not wanting to look too under dressed i did wore a dress, not an elegant type, a casual, comfortable one.

I slowly made my way downstairs, my heartbeat slowly increasing as there is no point in denying that i genuinely care about the opinions on the food, as i really tried my best. I noticed the guest wasnt only his gang but also people I’ve never seen before, including girls around my age i guess who where much best dressed than me…’maybe i undressed?’ I think as i make my way to Hyuga who was talking to a couple of his members, also where couple of girls clinged to said members while some also trying to get his attention instead.

Not wanting to disturb i waited for his conversation to finish however i dont think he noticed me or anyone who he was talking to did.

“I already ordered the food, it’ll be here in a bit” one of the members said, ordered? “Cant believe she actually thinks we’d eat something she made” another one adds “just a spoiled brat, making her work for a bit wasn’t as bad as i thought” Hyuga finally speaks before pulling out a cigarette.

So all i did was for nothing? Im disappointed to the point i cant even get mad now, all i could hear now was my own racing heartbeat which filled my ears cancelling out the music. “Really? Thats so childish you know” i speak, causing Hyuga to turn around with an raised eyebrow, but before he could speak i added on “i genuinely put effort in it you know. If you didnt wanted this arrangement you could’ve easily backed off, or chosen my cousin she’s less ‘spoiled’ than me after all. You didn’t had to waste my efforts though”. My tone wasnt loud or anything really, “enjoy your party, feel free to throw away everything i made” i looked at him once last time before walking away, passing through the crowd to leave the house while ignoring the small comments made by his members who saw me.

I took a deep breath as the sky got darker and the wind got chillier. Maybe leaving like that wasn’t the best idea, but still. I let out frustrated sigh i cant seem to understand in which street i even was and the fact there were drunk people walking around isnt the best. After some more walking i finally managed to reach the main street, i have no where to go and finiding a room available at a hotel at this time will be hard, just then something caught my eyes causing me to calm my heart by a bit.

I slowly entered the club, everyone are wearing white and are drunk alongside with that many guards stood around. I approached one of the guards asking if its possible to meet with Rocky and to tell him its the grocery bag girl and then i was brought to a private room to wait. Frankly speaking its careless for me to ask for help from the someone who i just met today but, it is my only option as i know no one here.

Just then the door opened and Rocky walked in, wearing more jewellery than when we met, i smiled and awkwardly waved at him as he took a seat next to me. “Missed me already?” I could tell he was trying to joke.

I shook my head “i happen to need a place to stay for tonight, are you able to help?? I’ll pay you”. I could see a questioning look on his face which caused me to sigh and explain everything to him; only for me to find out that Hyuga and Rocky knew each other AND they didn’t liked each other either…amazing, really.

However, he is really a gentleman as he offered me a private room in the club for the night, as he also went on a rant that this isnt how a woman should be treated even if it was arranged, then he shifted the topic to scold me which took me off guard as I shouldn’t been walking in dangerous streets at night and all.

Thought out all of this i just smiled and listened, it felt weirdly nice that someone somehow cared and the fact i could finally talk to someone. For the past months everyone in my family tree avoided calls unless work related probably due to the elders orders and here i knew no one.

After sometime he left and before i knew i had comfortably fallen asleep, in peace with no noise in the background unlike at Hyuga’s house.

The next morning i woke up to one of the workers bringing me new clothes and all and breakfast before leaving. I freshened up and had the breakfast and before i knew it some of Rocky’s members were in the room talking with me, mainly some quiet gossip which i didnt complain about. However this didnt lasted long as a loud crash and chaos came from the main club, causing the guys to run towards the source and i followed them.

The main part of the club, previously empty was now filled with Hyuga’s gang’s member. In the middle stood Hyuga talking to Rocky who lazily sat on the couch not caring about the broken things in the club.

“Rocky?” I whisper, still a bit confused, why was Hyuga here? Rocky gestures me to go up to him which i did while glancing at Hyuga while Rocky’s men were also on standby ready to fight i believe. “There you go, she is totally well and fine.” Rocky says while looking at Hyuga and pointing at me.

“She needed some help and i offered, its not our fault that you lack in some aspects” he adds, successfully irritating Hyuga who grabbed my hand pulling me towards him slightly, glaring at Rocky one last time “you’re also welcomed” Rocky slightly smiles at me which i nod and reciprocate before being pulled by Hyuga, out of the club and in a car. Which i quietly sit in, i mean its a free ride, no?

(Thoughts?)

[theic-manic]

Hi, so this is going to be a bit of a long ask, and if you don't think you can answer that's absolutely fine, I would appreciate even being redirected to something/someone else.

I've always felt somewhat drawn to hellenism in the last three, two years. I was brought up christian but I never believed in that god, like absolute certainty. I was atheist for most of my life, but I couldn't find it in myself to be that completely skeptic if hellenism when I found out about it. Recently I felt particularly drawn to Apollo, like he outright popped into my head, so I decided to try for real this time, and called out to him, I study the ancient classics and I knew a decent bit about hellenism from my own research, but I went to look into Apollo more and SO much just aligned with my life right now.

We had this one day of blinding sun immediately after, and I was so happy since I felt that was an answer, I go to school very early so I saw the sun rise and in the evening I went out to thank Apollo for the day when the sun was going down.

What scares me is that since I've called out to Apollo, I've been tired, and it's not my "normal" tired. I can usually do things even if I haven't slept well in a while, but all of a sudden I'm tired all the time, from the moment I wake up to when I go to sleep. I tried sleeping more, didn't fix it. I genuely haven't been able to do anything for days, including things I told Apollo I'd do for him since I can't make proper offers yet (I live with my parents atm, not a minor tho). I said sorry but idk I'm worried the reason why all my energies are suddenly gone is because I upset him or someone else, and I would be happy to ask for forgiveness but I don't even really know how to understand WHO I've upset (from my understanding Apollo isn't tied to sleeping or tiredness, i thought illness but I don't have anything) or if I've upset anyone at all, and I was hoping for some tips from someone who had a bit more experience than me...?

Thank you so much for your time and your answer if you're able to write one to me!

Hey,

Thanks for the ask.

This is completely understandable and not unheard of among many of us...

Apollo is the god of plagues and diseases (among other things), so people prayed to him to be healed of the illnesses that he sent them.

He also had a history of giving people plagues and disease out of anger so I understand how you might think you've somehow enraged a deity however unlike Christian religion, it typically takes either someone of great importance or someone to fuck up royally to manage that and I honestly doubt that you've managed either.

There's just a solid chance that you've not set appropriate boundaries with Apollo and also others within your life.

In my intense and extensive experience as his devotee, if you're not doing what's required to look after yourself (such as not establishing boundaries with other people to ensure that you're not setting yourself on fire to keep others warm) he will absolutely knock you onto your arse (make you bedridden) to force such lessons.

The good news is that you have nobody to seek forgiveness from.

You need to do the following:

- Rule out all possible mundane causes such as diet, dehydration, stress, sleep disturbances, changes in medication, seasonal changes etc.

- Start setting boundaries with others to look after yourself.

Yes, that includes close friends and family.

- Start setting boundaries with Apollo (and any deity you worship).

I once had a migraine stop in its tracks because I asked, out loud, "what the actual fuck Apollo? You can't be making me ill whenever you need my attention, this is toxic as fuck".

But yeah, do those 3 dot points, and you should be okay.

Rest, hydrate and try to ponder what lessons on self care you may be needing to learn right now while making it clear to Apollo what your limits and boundaries are regarding worship and how he connects with you.

Sincerely,

An Apollo devotee hit with a random infection and lethargy as I am being reminded of this very lesson in boundaries being an act of self care myself.

[everyones-fangirl]

Delectable Little Pet

Warnings: 18+ This will be about after ascension Astarion so expect some extreme dark romance and future triggers. Stalking. Abuse & Gore.

Word Count: 3,063

Chapter 9

Astarion

I knew something was wrong the moment I walked into the tavern. They were well into their usual peak rush, and all I could see was Cassara’s little friend, Caty, clearly overwhelmed with tasks. Usually, those two were inseparable, especially during a shift. The absence of Cassara was like a gaping void in the bustling environment. I sat at the bar, looking over the whole place, my eyes scanning every corner. I couldn’t feel her. That warmth. That light. Her presence filled up the space she was in, and I felt nothing.

"Where is she?" I asked, my voice a low growl, barely containing my impatience as I grabbed Caty's arm. She flinched, startled by my sudden appearance and the intensity in my gaze.

"She took the day off," Caty stammered, clearly flustered. "Said she needed some fresh air. It’s not like her to skip work, but she looked really worn out."

A day off? That was unlike Cassara. She was always diligent, always present. My mind raced with possibilities, none of them good. I left the tavern without another word, my heart pounding in my chest. The need to find her was an all-consuming fire burning within me. My mind flashed back to the countless times she had defied me, her spirit unbroken despite everything I had done to her. The thought of someone else causing her harm was unbearable. I moved swiftly through the city streets, my senses heightened as I searched for any trace of her. The city soon gave way to the outskirts, and I found myself at the edge of the small forest that bordered the town. The trees stood tall and silent, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. My most trusted spawn should be here any minute. I used my pull on them to let them know how urgent the situation was. The moonlight was the only thing lighting up the pitch-black woods until floating red eyes appeared around me. I smiled as three of my smartest and strongest emerged from the shadows.

“We have a problem,” I started, my voice low but commanding. “She’s gone, and this is her last known area. Have we received any word from anyone?”

One of my spawns, a tall and wiry figure named Thorne, stepped forward. “No, Master,” he replied, his voice steady. “There’s been no word, but we’ve scouted the perimeter and found signs of a struggle.”

I clenched my jaw, my mind racing. I didn’t know if it was a direct attack or not. I thought I had been careful with our meetings, but I am a very popular person for very bad reasons. My enemies were many, and Cassara was an easy target for those who wished to hurt me.

“Show me,” I commanded.

Thorne led the way deeper into the forest, the other two spawns flanking us, their eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of danger. We reached a small clearing where the ground was disturbed, the signs of a struggle evident in the trampled grass and broken branches. My heart pounded in my chest as I took in the scene, my anger growing with each passing second.

“There were three of them, at least,” Thorne said, pointing to the different sets of footprints. “They were here recently, no more than an hour ago.”

I nodded, my mind working quickly. “Spread out and search the area. They can’t have gone far. I want them found, and I want them alive.”

The spawns nodded and disappeared into the darkness, moving with the silent efficiency that only vampires could manage. I stayed in the clearing, my senses straining to catch any hint of her presence. I walked deeper, following the trail of broken branches into another clearing with a running stream. Blocks of melting ice littered the forest floor, a small dagger decorated with dried crimson lay a few feet away. I took a deep breath before picking up the dagger, its weight feeling familiar in my hands.I recognized the style, the build. This smith only made weapons for one group of people: The Crimson Blades, a notorious band of mercenaries known for their ruthlessness and discretion. And I just so happened to have drained one of their top members of all his blood a while back.

Fuck.

The realization sent a chill down my spine. If they had Cassara, this wasn't just a random abduction. It was a calculated move, possibly even revenge. My grip tightened around the dagger as I scanned the area for more clues. The Crimson Blades were meticulous, and if they were involved, Cassara’s life was in serious danger. I turned my attention to the melting ice, the remnants of Cassara’s ice spell. She had put up a fight, but it hadn’t been enough. My mind raced, replaying every detail I knew about the Crimson Blades and their methods. They wouldn’t kill her immediately; they’d use her as leverage, perhaps to lure me into a trap or to make me suffer. The thought made my blood boil.

Thorne emerged from the shadows, his eyes flicking to the dagger in my hand. “Master, we’ve found their trail. It leads deeper into the forest, towards the old mine.”

I nodded, my decision made. “We move now. We don’t have much time.”

The path was treacherous, the thick forest closing in around us as we moved swiftly through the underbrush. My senses were on high alert, every sound and shadow scrutinized as we neared the mine. The Crimson Blades were experts in ambush, and I had no doubt they would be prepared for our arrival. As we approached the mine's entrance, I signaled for my spawns to take up positions around the perimeter. The entrance was guarded by two sentries, their eyes scanning the forest with a vigilance that spoke of their training. I motioned for Thorne and the others to be ready.

With the precision born of centuries of practice, we moved as one. Thorne took out the sentries with a single, silent motion, their bodies crumpling to the ground without a sound. We slipped inside, the mine's darkness enveloping us.

As we stepped into the gaping maw of the entrance, the temperature dropped noticeably, a chill permeating the air that clung to our skin like an unwelcome mist. The darkness inside was almost absolute, broken only by the faint flicker of torchlight deeper within, casting eerie shadows on the rugged walls. The walls themselves were rough-hewn, evidence of hasty mining long abandoned. Jagged rocks jutted out at odd angles, and here and there, ancient wooden supports creaked ominously under the weight of the earth above. The floor was uneven, littered with loose stones and debris, forcing us to tread carefully to avoid alerting our presence with an accidental stumble. As we ventured further, the passage widened into a larger chamber, the ceiling disappearing into the darkness above. The flickering torchlight revealed rusted mining equipment—abandoned carts, broken pickaxes, and the remnants of old rails that once carried ore to the surface. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decay, mingled with the faint, acrid smell of old blood.

To one side of the chamber, a narrow tunnel led deeper into the mine, from which the voices of the mercenaries emanated. The tunnel walls were slick with moisture, and in places, trickles of water ran down to pool in shallow depressions on the floor. Here, the rock formations grew more intricate, with veins of quartz and other minerals glinting dully in the torchlight. The chamber itself was illuminated by a single, sputtering torch thrust into a crude holder on the wall, casting long, dancing shadows that seemed to move with a life of their own. The mercenaries had set up a crude camp in the center, using overturned crates and barrels as makeshift furniture. A small fire crackled in the middle, its smoke curling upwards to disappear into the darkness above.

Cassara was a haunting sight as she was bound to one of the wooden supports, illuminated by the flickering fire's glow. Her usually vibrant and spirited demeanor was replaced with an air of exhaustion and pain. Her once pristine clothes were torn and stained, clinging to her body in ragged strips. Blood trickled from a cut on her forehead, the dark crimson stark against her pale skin, tracing a path down her temple and cheek. Bruises mottled her arms and legs, vivid purples and blues that told a story of brutal blows and relentless force. Her left eye was swollen and partially closed, a dark bruise blooming around it. Dried blood crusted around her nose and mouth, and her lower lip was split and swollen. Every breath she took seemed labored, each rise and fall of her chest a testament to the pain she was enduring. Her wrists were raw and bloody where the ropes had cut into her skin, the bonds too tight and unforgiving. The fingers of one hand twitched occasionally, a sign of the strain and discomfort she was in. Her hair, usually flowing and well-kept, was disheveled and matted with sweat and dirt, falling in tangled strands around her face.

Despite the injuries and the evident suffering, there was a defiant fire still burning in her eyes. Even in her weakened state, Cassara’s spirit had not been completely crushed. She held her head high as much as she could, glaring at her captors with a mix of hatred and determination. It was clear that she was fighting with every ounce of strength she had left, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing her broken.

The sight of her in such a state stirred a potent mix of rage and desperation within me. Around her, the mercenaries lounged carelessly, their weapons within easy reach but their guard lowered in false security. The atmosphere was tense, the oppressive silence of the mine broken only by the crackling of the fire and the occasional murmur of conversation. Every sound seemed amplified in the enclosed space: the clink of metal on stone, the rustle of clothing, the soft breathing of the captors and the captive alike. My spawns and I moved swiftly, bursting into the clearing. I let out a scream before slicing my dagger across one of their throats—only for them to dissipate into thin air, slipping through my fingers like smoke in the wind. By the time we realized it was a trap, it was too late. A shimmering field formed around us, trapping us inside and just out of reach from where Cassara’s image was.

Cassara’s projection stood there, a spectral vision of her beaten and bruised form. The cuts and bruises on her body seemed all too real, but I now understood that her physical presence wasn’t actually in the cave with us. The illusion was meant to torment, to distract us while the real danger closed in. A loud, mocking laugh echoed through the cave, and a man’s form appeared beside Cassara’s image. He was tall, with a commanding presence, his face twisted into a cruel smile. The leader of the Crimson Blades, a fellow member of the council and a rival I had long underestimated.

"You," I growled, my voice dripping with venom.

"Astarion," he replied smoothly, his tone filled with false camaraderie. "Funny running into you here."

I clenched my fists, my nails biting into my palms as I fought to keep my rage in check. "What have you done with her?"

He chuckled darkly, stepping closer to the projection of Cassara. "Oh, she’s quite safe, for now. Though I can’t say the same for her future if you don’t cooperate."

My eyes narrowed, and I could feel my spawns tense around me, ready to strike at my command. "You’re making a grave mistake. Release her, and I might let you live."

His laugh echoed again, more sinister this time. "You’re in no position to make threats, Astarion. You see, I’ve learned a few tricks of my own. This field you’re trapped in? It’s specifically designed to contain your kind."

I took a step forward, testing the boundaries of the field, feeling its resistance push back against me. "What do you want?" I demanded, my voice a deadly whisper.

The leader’s eyes glittered with malice. "Simple. Power. Influence. And what better way to achieve that than by taking down the mighty Astarion? You’ve meddled in my affairs for the last time. Now, you’re going to help me consolidate my position, or she suffers the consequences."

I glanced at the image of Cassara, her eyes filled with pain and defiance even in this spectral form. The sight of her like this fueled my fury, but I knew I had to keep a cool head. "You’ll pay for this," I promised, my voice a low growl.

He smirked, seemingly unfazed by my threat. "We’ll see about that. For now, you’ll do as I say, or she dies."

I took a deep breath, my mind racing to find a way out of this trap. I couldn't let him win, but I also couldn’t risk Cassara’s life. The game had changed, and I had to find a way to turn the tables. "Alright," I said finally, my voice steady. "What do you want me to do?"

His smile widened, victorious. "Good. We’ll start with you relinquishing control over your spawns. Hand them over to me, and we’ll go from there."

I met their eyes, silently communicating my plan. This wasn’t over, not by a long shot. We would bide our time, find a way to break free, and when we did, the Crimson Blades would regret ever crossing me. For now, I had to play along, to ensure Cassara’s safety. But my mind was already working on a plan, a way to turn this dire situation to our advantage. The leader of the Crimson Blades had no idea what kind of wrath he had just unleashed. He eyed me expectantly, waiting for my compliance. My spawns exchanged wary glances, their faith in me unshaken but their apprehension palpable. I took a deep breath, signaling them to stand down with a slight nod.

"Very well," I said, my voice cold and calculated. "I’ll relinquish control of my spawns. But know this—when the time comes, I will take back what is mine."

Lucian's grin widened, clearly pleased with my apparent submission. "Smart choice, Astarion. Now, let’s make this transition seamless, shall we?"

He waved his hand, and the shimmering field around us intensified momentarily before shifting. My spawns’ eyes glazed over as the magical transfer took place, their loyalty forcefully redirected. They stepped away from me, now under his control, and I felt a pang of regret for what I had to do. But this was just a temporary setback.

"Good," Lucian said, his tone dripping with smug satisfaction. "Now, for the next part of our arrangement. You will infiltrate the council and undermine their support for any resistance against the Crimson Blades. We need them to back our policies without question."

I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to lash out. "And if I refuse?"

His gaze flickered to the projection of Cassara. "Then she suffers. And believe me, Astarion, I have many ways to make her suffer."

A cold fury settled over me, and I nodded. "Fine. But know that you’ve made a powerful enemy today. This will not end well for you."

"We’ll see," Lucian replied smoothly. "For now, do as I say, and she remains unharmed." With a final, hateful glare, I turned and began to formulate a plan. I had to find a way to free Cassara and turn the tide against the Crimson Blades. But I needed to buy time, to gather my strength and resources.

Over the next few days, I meticulously played my role within the council, subtly steering conversations and decisions to favor the Crimson Blades. It was a delicate and dangerous balance, maintaining my position while secretly working against them. Each word I spoke was carefully chosen, each action calculated to maintain my cover while setting the stage for our eventual strike. I sent coded messages to my remaining loyalists, using phrases and symbols that only they would understand. Every gesture, every seemingly innocent comment was laden with hidden meaning. Slowly but surely, I began to weave a network of resistance within the council, laying the groundwork for our rebellion. Each night, I replayed the image of Cassara’s beaten form in my mind, using it as fuel to stoke my resolve. The thought of her suffering kept me focused, kept me determined. I couldn’t afford to make a single misstep.

No one could know the real reason I was after Lucian. The knowledge of my motives was a dangerous secret, one that could unravel everything if it fell into the wrong hands. Even Lucian knowing about my intentions was too much—too many people already knew. My spawns were bound to my will, unable to betray me even if they wanted to, but Lucian had no such constraints. He could ruin everything with a single word, and that risk was a constant shadow over my plans. The council meetings were a constant test of my resolve. I had to maintain my composure, my mask of indifference, even as I plotted the downfall of those around me. Lucian’s presence was a constant reminder of the stakes, his smug demeanor a taunt that I could not yet respond to. But I bided my time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The nights were the hardest. Alone in my chambers, I could let my mask slip, if only for a moment. I would sit by the window, staring out at the city below, and let the weight of my actions settle on my shoulders. The image of Cassara, broken and bloody, haunted my thoughts. Her pain was my pain, her suffering a constant reminder of why I had to succeed.

I couldn’t let her down. I couldn’t let Lucian win.

My spawns were my eyes and ears, their loyalty unwavering despite the risk. They moved through the city, gathering information, identifying weaknesses in the Crimson Blades’ defenses. Each piece of information was a puzzle piece, slowly coming together to reveal the full picture of our plan. I just had to bide my time and hope she could wait for me.

[merryfortune]

Approach with Caution

August 18th: Free Day 

Title: Approach with Caution

Ship: Nail/Romin

Series: Yu-Gi-Oh! Sevens

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,270

Tags: Fluff, Confessions, Feelings Realisation, Ambiguous Ending

   As baffling and nonsensical as it was, Nail was of that certain age where he was thinking about the opposite sex. With much regret, of course. He had been so focused, so dedicated but now, he was scribbling love-hearts and names in his notebooks.

   Reflecting upon his life thus far, Nail had always been so lonely, so isolated, and he did not mind that one bit. He had more than enough with his toys, his hobbies, he didn’t need anyone else except for me, myself, and I. He had turned it into a point of pride. He was a human boy who was a machine who was a human boy. So for that facade to crack and for him to accept friendship into his once lonesome life, it was scary to transition from one identity to the next. 

   For that to evolve into fascination with girls, oh, Nail was humiliated. It was embarrassing, there was no other way to describe it. He, of all people, was reduced to a loverboy because of one Kirishima Romin.

   She was fierce and sassy, driven and determined, full of quirks and could prove to be quite unpredictable.

   She was everything that Nail disliked about humanity. The way they malfunctioned and caused dysfunction or mayhem. Romin was hot and cold based on her mood and her mood was based on what she had or hadn’t eaten recently. She got into hijinks all the same as their other friends and was never afraid to spearhead it either. That entropy was discordant like the metal music that she played and Nail disliked it heavily, or so he thought.

   After all, Romin was much more than her faults, varied and eclectic as they were.

   Romin embodied much of its beauty, too. Nail would concede that much, and perhaps even with a small smile on his face due to his crush. She was a well-decorated musician and for good reason, her understanding of the art was nothing less than prodigal given her age. RoaRomin’s music, for quite some time, had been just noise to Nail, bits and pieces that he could unpick like mathematics but ultimately not to his taste.

   Not anymore.

   Now he was scrying the lyrics for hidden meanings. He was linking together the themes and motifs to the instrumentals, keenly aware of Romin’s hand in the mix. Whether she was providing ideas, lyrics, or just her guitar work, it had Nail scrambling like a treasure hunter through the boundless interpretations of music. He felt insane as he made the switch from disinterest to utter obsession.

   All because he pined, he yearned, he… crushed on Kirishima Romin.

   Their interactions were few and far between, often fleeting. Nail was out of school and she still had to play by the bell. But when their paths did bisect, Nail was always amused. A little happier than he might have otherwise been. Seatbastian detected a difference in demeanour but never said anything - thank goodness. Maybe it was because human interaction was good for him, maybe not.

   The crew that Romin belonged to was a cantankerous and often bizarre bunch but hey, he was a part of it too and he was both those things as well. It felt good to belong. To have people he cared about. To have new interests opened up to him.

   He wouldn’t have thought of that alone.

   He would have stared at the walls, at the blank space and knew there was something missing. A puzzle piece that would be required to fill that slot. Unlike with Rush Duels and the Maximum Summon, the glaring obviousness was not apparent to Nail this time.

   How should he approach feelings as frantic as young love?

   Especially when his gratitude ought to begin at friendship, with Yuga, not just Romin but Luke and Gakuto also. Even Roa. They all became quite the ensemble together. Yuga opened that blank space and now, it appeared, music decorated much the same as vibrations decorated sound and paintings decorated space. 

   But the question still remained and the answer eluded him.

   Should Nail be forward? Should his words be heavy as weights and just as blunt: I like you? Or should he take inspiration from the more sleek poets before him. Mathematics and computer sciences were far different a language to that of conveying feelings and poetry. So, perhaps Nail ought to relay to Romin that the moon was beautiful tonight. Though it was daytime when he was scheduled to see her next so that wouldn’t work.

   Not to mention… From his observations… Nail had concluded that Romin was a hard-headed girl. He would have to look into her schooling records more closely to deduce if she knew what a metaphor was or that their usage could be applied outside of music. It genuinely seemed heads or tails for Nail…

   What would make for the best song? That weighed on Nail’s mind, too. They were both creatives but their spirits did not appear kindred when it came to their pursuits. Nail could code all sorts of things in honour of Romin, he could recreate her portrait using HTML as his ink and paintbrush, the rich text editor his canvas but what of her? She needed more than him and his words might just become the head-line lyrics of her next album if he wasn’t careful. He would also appreciate if said lyrics were flattering rather than slandering so that added yet another layer to all the considerations that Nail had to be mindful of.

   With so much to take into account, at the end of all his thought, it was not a true answer which Nail came to as he pondered each word for clarity to carry his feelings but it was an answer. If he wanted to let Romin know he felt, he ought to approach with caution. What if she didn’t feel the same way? What if she did? Either result terrified Nail as he couldn’t predict her outcomes the way he could predict the outcomes of RNG in a Master Duel.

   Either way, the day in which they would cross paths came about before Nail could perfect his speech. His resolve was hardened as he sweated in the sun, arriving earlier than anyone else just so he could hazard some one-one-one time with Romin.

   She waited in the park, in the shade of the tree but the leftward slant of a sunbeam illuminated her regardless. She looked as rock and roll as ever, with tinsel town hair of magenta and greeted him, turning around and her skirt fluttered around the bulk of her ever present guitar case.

   “Hey, what’s up?” Romin asked, she batted her eyelashes at him as she greeted him, her hand thrown up in a casual hello.

   Nail could feel his knees knock and his tongue tie. He had never felt this way before. She was just a tween age girl, there was no reason for Nail to feel as though he were staring down the jaws of a tiger and yet, as friendly as Romin was, he felt as though he were in mortal danger as he heeded his previous revelations. He really ought to approach with caution. Enunciate clearly, be on guard, and allowed for whatever happens, to happen.

   “Yes. Good.” Nail replied. “If you could spare a moment of your time, however, I have something I want to ask you.” His teeth chattered.

   “Yeah, sure, now’s a good time, what do you need?” 

   Nail took a breath and he let his preparations meet his hormones and together, they took over his mouth in confession.

[greenerteacups]

Dear GT,

I'm among the many admirers of Lionheart, and I can't stress enough how deeply, madly, and profoundly I love it. Your sharing of this masterpiece is something I'll always be thankful for.

I've mulled over this extensively, but would you mind terribly if quotes, phrases, scenes, and the like (the ones we often see of published books?) from Lionheart were shared on other platforms?

There are numerous passages and scenes I feel compelled to shed light on. Lionheart holds immense literary value for me, and I'm certain there are others who feel the same. I'm eager to exchange views on Lionheart with fellow enthusiasts.

Please don't hesitate to decline if you have reservations, as I too am wary of the potential negativity that often accompanies popularity. I trust your expertise, which is why I'm seeking your opinion.

I'd be mortified if my actions inadvertently caused any harm to you or anyone else.

Hello, friend!

Firstly, thanks for a really beautiful message. It's made my day.

With respect to sharing Lionheart — sure! From this message I'm not sure exactly what you have in mind, but here are a couple of thoughts:

Quotes/excerpts/short passages: yeah totally! Go for it! Talk about it with anyone you want to, anywhere you want to! It's really courteous of you to ask about this.

Please don't repost full chapters/the fic in its entirety (I have cleverly defended against this problem by writing a fic so bonkers fucking long that it would require Herculean efforts to do this, but it's still worth saying — if not for you then just to make sure it's in writing)

I don't have Instagram/Facebook/TikTok/etc., and I try not to engage too much with discussions of the fic outside of AO3 or my Tumblr inbox. Unlike those spaces, Reddit/Facebook/etc. are platforms for negative criticism about fic, and people deserve spaces to do that without the author breathing down their neck. Just as I can set etiquette for my inbox, readers have every right to share their opinions and enjoy the (valid!) fruits of critical discussion; I have neither the ability nor, frankly, the desire to stop them. I'm a big girl, and I take responsibility for my own Internet experience. The only way I even feel empowered to reject that kind of feedback in my inbox is because I pointedly leave space for readers to do it elsewhere.

All of this to say: if you want me to see something, please send it here or in the comments section! Otherwise, I probably won't.