#i am just a mere watcher in this situation

[bandzboy]

there needs to be nuance in this situation it’s so obvious that the media is jumping on yoongi because they saw an opportunity to join a smear campaign of a bts member and i wanna preface by saying this nobody is saying what he did wasn’t wrong and i know that’s what is going around a lot. dui is wrong and i think everyone can agree on that. in this situation, he didn’t injure anyone else and fell on his own while being drunk and he did acknowledge this TWO times at this point but obviously using this situation to cover up other news in south korea will come in handy

hybe is nothing doing anything to ease any of the damage and when this came out initially, bang pd was caught in LA with girls half his age who people found out later on were cam girls and so that’s why they used yoongi’s situation to protect him and the company because, if there’s anything this situation showed once again is that companies will do ANYTHING to protect their image and would never do the same for idols in fact, they would throw idols under the bus to do so

this situation is going too far and it’s getting ridiculous to the point he had to apologize twice and honestly what else can he do in this situation? when he probably will face the consequences and know what he did is wrong. people are asking for more when there’s nothing else to explain here when the facts were given and people still wanna make up their narratives because they hate bts. it’s just all seems insane to me atp

[fanfic-chan]

Tickletober Day 1: Anticipation

Tighnari + Aether

"Aether, c'mon now, you have got to sit still already, you're going to make me mess up your bandaging!"

Tighnari scolded the traveller gently, he couldn't help the slight smile of amusement that pulled at his lips in response to the blonde's overdramatic reactions as he reached down to touch his injured torso, only to have his efforts interrupted as Aether merely giggled and shook his head, guarding his stomach with his arms in an involuntary attempt to block the forest watcher's hands from touching him.

The two of them had just been out looking for herbs together after Aether had asked him for some advice on different medicinal herbs that could be used on his travels, after a particularly hefty meal had left poor Paimon with such a bad stomachache recently that she'd done nothing but complain for hours on end.

Deciding that he didn't want either of them to go through such an event in the future, amongst other things, the traveller had decided to come to Tighnari for help on identifying safe herbs to use for any future ailments that might arise, and the forest watcher had readily agreed to the request, pleased to see someone so eager to learn in a safe way rather than just taking a chance and hoping for the best.

Their little expedition had gone well at first, with Tighnari pointing out different plants, both safe and unsafe, and pointing out both their uses and side effects, all of which the blonde had been writing down in a small notebook dutifully as they walked. It wasn't until they reached a particularly thick area of vegetation that something went wrong, when Aether suddenly tripped and took a tumble, leaving a large scratch running along the side of his stomach.

It wasn't anything to deep thankfully, but it was bleeding, and out in the rainforest especially, even the smallest of open wounds could turn into a breeding ground for infection. Which is why Tighnari had insisted that they stop for a bit to treat the minor injury.

A task that should have been finished ages ago, if it weren't for the fact that Aether was so ticklish that he kept squirming away from him before he so much as even brushed his skin. They'd only just finished getting the cut cleaned, and now all that was left was to bandage it up.

"Aether..." Tighnari sighed, when, once again, the traveller twitched away with a giggle, covering his stomach up nervously.

"N-Nohoho, I'm fine!! It's j-juhust a scratch, really!" The traveller giggled nervously in anticipation, backing away as a faint blush spreading over his cheeks, trying his hardest to talk his way out of this situation, "It's not even that deep! W-We really don't need to-"

"Absolutely not." The forest watcher interrupted him, suddenly sounding bit more stern, and Aether couldn't help but pout a little in response, "I am not about to let you go traipsing through the forest with an open wound like that, knowing full well that you could end up getting some kind of infection or parasite."

"B-But-"

"No buts. Now then, I'm going to give you two options here; come over here right now and do your best to sit still while I treat you, or, I can come over there and catch you myself, and I don't think you'll end up liking the consequences if that happens. I'll give you until the count of five to decide. One..."

Aether gulped. He'd known Tighnari for a pretty good while now, and he knew him well enough to tell that he was being serious, and his mind scrambled to find some sort of out...

"Two..."

If they were in the open fields of Modstadt, he could probably outrun him fairly easily, but they were in the rainforest right now, on Tighnari's home turf. There wasn't enough open space to make a proper break for it...

"Three..."

He could try arguing again, but once Tighnari had his mind made up, it was pretty difficult to change it, especially when it came to stuff like this...

"Four..."

With only one second left to decide, he panicked, and before he could even think it through all the way, he scrambled up and tried to make a break for it, yelping when he felt a hand wrap around his ankle before he could so much as take a step.

"Five... wrong choice..."

Not long after that, the sound of Aether's shrieking laughter could be heard echoing throughout the forest, but hey, atleast his injury had been taken care of?...

[aladaylessecondblog]

Mousetrap, pt. 6

Author's Note: Tav is dealing with the PTSD from (literally) hell & Raphael's repeated assaults. Suicidal thoughts.

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

Tav found that while she could trance well enough, for some reason her memories would not replay themselves as they once had. She'd been told once that drow couldn't, yet until recently - at least, that she remembered - she'd been able to. Perhaps a result of whatever the druid grove she remembered on first waking had done...it didn't matter.

She would retreat into better memories, of better times, a thing necessary for her since coming back in time.

Since Raphael's visits had begun, it had gotten more and more difficult...

...until last night, when she had been unable to summon them at all. Astarion's feeding had interrupted her latest attempt, and in a futile effort to be better rested she had closed her tent flap and changed into some of Gortash's clothes. Even though she'd worried the remaining scent might wear off, she'd changed into the shirt he'd once worked on the Steel Watchers in. Then a pair of pants he'd usually chosen to sleep in, tied tightly with a belt. For good measure she'd spilled a few drops of the Rotgut Red on her pillow.

Halsin's former pelt had made for a good blanket, but nothing had done her as much good as Gortash's things. It had all relaxed her so much she'd actually fallen asleep rather than the trance she'd planned for.

But this relaxing slumber was, in the morning, broken by a sudden shout, and then a scream.

Tav bolted upright and looked, bleary-eyed, out of her tent, still half-wrapped in the pelt and holding up the sleeping pants.

"YOU!" Halsin was rushing toward Orin, who herself was heading in Tav's direction.

"Halsin! STOP!"

He looked over and she saw his eyes widen, his gaze deepen - she knew then that Raphael hadn't lied. (But, something whispered in her mind, did he ever? He was honest about what he had to give.)

Tav stepped in front of Orin and stood between them with her arms stretched out, while the latter half-cowered behind her.

"Step aside, Tav," Halsin said, not once looking directly at her, but at the cowering woman behind her, "This thing will end us all if we do not take care of the situation NOW."

"She doesn't know who she is," Tav replied quickly, not moving an inch. She felt paradoxically both wildly out of place and exactly where she was supposed to be. "And believe me, I checked. With the tadpole."

"And you think that's enough?"

"Would Orin the Red be cowering behind me if I weren't telling you the truth?" Tav asked, "She still has the same urges but she's not the same person."

"...none of us are," Halsin said in a defeated reply. He kept his hard gaze on Orin, and lifted a hand to point, "I will be keeping an eye on you. I did not live this long to have your blade buried in my back, AGAIN."

Orin merely nodded and practically squeaked in what Tav assumed was meant as a reply.

Tav turned around and in a quick attempt to both get the woman away from Halsin and have a moment alone with the man to explain everything, suggested she take some time to do blade training with Lae'zel. It would be something to occupy her time, and perhaps wear out her bloodlust just a bit.

"Am I deceived," Halsin started slowly once Orin had left, "Or do you remember a past that has not yet happened?"

She expected to feel elated, pleased, some form of a positive emotion. But she felt the same grief as she had when he looked unknowing into her face.

Why? Why can I not be happy? What is wrong with me?

"You...are not deceived," Tav replied slowly, not finding herself able to meet Halsin's eyes. Shame had risen from nowhere, and already she felt submerged in it. "I do."

"Then why defend her? Why--"

"I just told you. She doesn't remember it. She doesn't even know who she is. She answers to Orin because I told her it was her name - I could have told her anything and she would've accepted it. We have...an opportunity to turn an enemy into an ally and considering what we will have to fight against..."

Orin had taken everything from her - twice - and yet the woman that had hidden behind her wasn't that same person. Would Orin the Red have so nicely healed them up with her song? Would Orin the Red be reluctant to kill someone else? Surely she would enjoy mutilating herself, but...

Mercy, mercy, mercy

The more Tav hurt, the more she gave, and the farther she could put the pain from her mind.

Tav finally settled for saying, "What Volo seems to have started, I can finish."

"Ever the savior," Halsin said, "You trust far too easily, m--"

"Mama!" Cald's voice rang out suddenly, "The owlbear is here, like you said! And the dog!"

"Ah...later than I thought..."

"I must know," Halsin said quickly, "One more question--well, I have many, many more, but one I want to know the answer to now."

"What?"

"The boy," Halsin said, concern clouding his face, "Is he mine?"

"No," Tav replied. She saw the man's face drop and added, "I would tell you if he was, but he's not. Let me handle this, and then--we can talk."

She hurried off then, still feeling that keen sense of wrongness. Something was warped within her, with every joy blunted and every hurt amplified. Why? What was happening?

No. You have no time to feel sorry for yourself. The Shadow Cursed lands lay ahead. Ketheric Thorm. All that the area entails.

Deep breath.

The owlbear cub was most enthusiastic about the leftover meat from the party the previous night, and seemed to want more.

"It's alright, little one. I have more, if you want to stay."

They hadn't rescued it from the Goblin Camp, so how...? No, she told herself a second after that thought.

(Or had they, and there had been so much going on that she'd simply forgotten?)

No, she would not question a blessing. The little thing was missing its mother, was hungry--that was the important thing here.

He's afraid, Scratch said, when she asked, His mother was killed by those goblins. I tried to help him but he jumps at everything.

"The hand that feeds is the hand that's loved. You won't get rid of it anytime soon," Gale's voice was heard over her shoulder, just in time to scare the poor cub off. "...or so I thought, at least."

Tav HAD hoped for the little one to occupy her time longer - she saw Cald looking after the cub, and then looking at her for an answer.

"He was startled by the sudden noise," she explained to him, "He'll come back, don't worry. He was hungry, and too small to hunt on his own."

Then a look at Scratch.

"You can stay here, if you'd like."

Cald looked up at her, and gave a grin. He seemed to like the idea of a dog even more than she did.

She felt she couldn't smile, but tried anyway, and was rewarded by a hug.

"I'm going to the river to have a bath. Don't get too far away from camp unless you decide to take your raven shape, alright?"

He nodded, and Tav grabbed a few things from her tent before heading off to the river - noting, of course, that Halsin followed her at a distance. She tried to ignore the fear and shame that welled up, telling herself it was needless, telling herself this was what she had wanted. A chance to speak to him and explain, to unload at least some of the anxieties that had been plaguing her, to have someone to share the mental load with.

She sat down at the river's edge, and took off her boots. Footsteps were heard behind, and the fear in her gut turned to sudden and unexplainable panic in her chest. And even when Halsin--of course it was Halsin, she chided herself, who ELSE would it be?--sat down beside her, the rapid beat of her heart slowed only a little.

"Tav," he said softly, "Or should I call you Deirdre? An apt name, I suppose, considering all that has happened."

She merely nodded--and kept her eyes on the water. "And that was before I...lost you. And Astarion. More...more has happened since then, and I..."

"If you do not wish to share it, you need not. If you are worried I may be angry that you found love again, you shouldn't worry about that either. To love again after grief is a sign of great strength."

Tav brought her knees up to her chest. "But I lost him too."

She took a deep, shuddering breathing, wrapped her arms about her knees, and lowered her head. When tears wouldn't come she lifted it again, and started to slowly talk again.

"I made my way after you and Astarion died, and...there was my husband," she knew he would find out about Gortash anyway, but wasn't eager to speak about it now. Not now. She knew Halsin would have something to say, and she would strike back, and she just didn't have the capacity for it at the moment. "For a while we were happy, and...and...then Cazador struck. You remember the Rite of Ascension?"

Halsin nodded.

"He went through with it, and..." she shook her head, "He released Orin from the prison we had her in, helped her to cause the chaos she so loved, and...eventually drove us from our home in Baldur's Gate. If it weren't for Withers, I'd have been dead too."

"What did the bone man do?"

"I gave him the Crown of Karsus, and he sent my son and I back. Only two could go, he said, and Cald's father...decided his son was more important."

"He sounds like a noble man."

Tav didn't move. "Besides me, Cazador remembers, Raphael remembers, and some fourth person I don't--"

"Myself, perhaps?"

"No, I had to buy your memory--" Tav stiffened at the slip, and buried her face again. This time the tears did come, and when she felt Halsin's hand on her shoulder the panic rose once more.

What is wrong with me? Halsin wouldn't hurt me - why does my body react like he would? What poison has taken hold of me?

"Tav..." Halsin's voice sounded off slowly, "...what do you mean, 'buy'?"

(Clawed hands at her hips, teeth at her neck, the scent of cherries and hellfire all-round.)

"I was alone," she finally sobbed, "Alone, for six years, and none of you remembered, and...and...it wasn't as if he asked for anything important..."

Halsin seemed to be trying to encourage her to lean against him, and she submitted to it reluctantly. The panic in her chest seemed to grow worse with even just one of his arms around her, so it was unsurprising when she felt the effect of a calm spell radiating from his hands.

"Tav," Halsin said gently, "Are you comfortable saying it, what you gave him?"

She shook her head, still unable to meet his eyes.

"You didn't promise him the Crown?"

Tav attempted to say "No, I didn't promise Raphael the Crown" but her voice simply refused to speak the words. She tried again, and then a third time, and still her voice would not do what she was asking of it. So she shook her head.

"You remember now," she said, "And Wyll remembers. I would have asked for Astarion too, but..."

"You did not want to burden our star with an extra reason to fear Cazador's anger, perhaps."

Tav didn't correct him. She sat thinking for a brief moment - how wrong it sounded. 'Our star'...more than a decade ago the words would have made her happy, filled her with warmth, and now...

...now she did not know what they were doing to her.

"I could give him his memory," she hiccupped, "But it would cost me half an hour's time with that--with Raphael. If you wanted I could see it done before--"

"No. No, absolutely not." Halsin sat back and lifted her chin--and she saw then the pained look in his eyes as she flinched from the movement and looked away. "I will not have you buy his memory with your pain. You know he would not want that for you."

"It's...it's...it's such a small thing..."

Despite the spell, the fear rose against it, battered the wall which he had put up.

"This husband of yours," he said a moment later, when he let go of her face, "Is he now alive?"

"He--he is. But we can't--I can't--"

"Is it one of the others?" he asked, "Gale, perhaps? Wyll?"

"No, neither of them. It's someone we're going to have to..." Tav took a deep breath. "I can't do it again, Halsin, I can't. I saw Astarion dead, I saw YOU dead, and then to have to look at E--my wounded husband as I was leaving him behind...I can't go through this again. Everyone who comes to love me dies."

Tav was mortally afraid Halsin would pick up on the one syllable she had spoken of Enver's name, that the love and concern in his face would turn to fury and hate as it had been directed at Orin. But he didn't seem to catch it.

"If I let such things deter me from love I would never have come to adore you and our star as I did," Halsin replied, "But I can understand the pain of loss making it difficult to...try again."

She could practically feel the sorrow rolling off him, and sat back. "It's not that I don't want to, but I..."

Deep breath.

"Let us...let us focus on cleansing the Shadow-Cursed lands first," Tav said, "The rest of them don't know anything, and..."

At least he understood her need to change the subject.

"And you have a child to mind. He's wonderful, you know...even before I remembered you, I thought how like you he was. He was eager to understand, to help, and had many questions I was more than happy to provide answers to. Even if he is a bit more interested in clockwork and artificer things than I am capable of understanding. He was pleased to have someone to instruct, himself."

"He...he is very much like his father in that way," Tav said weakly. At last the panic was fading, at last she could relax against him. "His father was a tinkerer of sorts, more enamored with things he could use than those things found in nature."

"I hope he did not stifle your love of it," Halsin replied. Having apparently noticed her ease he gave a smile.

"That's just it," Tav replied, "He didn't stifle me at all. He liked the city, but he didn't keep me from nature. It was more that...it was more that being around nature, after losing you..."

"I see."

She took a deep breath, and pulled the pelt from her shoulders.

"I feel I should give you this. It...it's yours, after all."

"I never--" Halsin started, and almost as soon as he had, stopped.

"Before...Orin skinned you. It was one of the things she was happy to show me, when we returned from defeating Raphael." Tav took a deep breath. "I...I had it...tanned, and...kept it."

Halsin took the pelt, and looked it over. His brows knit together, whether in concern or anger she wasn't sure. But she assumed quickly that it was the latter.

"I'm sorry, Halsin, I shouldn't have kept it. It was yours, after all, I should have buried you with it."

"Why should this upset me? It is natural enough a thing to happen, and you did not take it as a trophy or to decorate your floor. You took it for a cloak, to stay warm."

She just gave a nod, and looked down to the water. A bath, as she'd said she meant to have, sounded good, but the thought of being nude before anyone, even Halsin...

But to leave or ask him to leave...she didn't want him to feel this was his fault, and she didn't want him to worry.

Tav washed up as best she could without removing any clothing, while Halsin naturally chose the opposite way. Again there was that feeling of the panic struggling beneath the wall of calm, and again there was confusion. Why should sight of him in this state disturb her so? He wasn't the one who had violated her. He wasn't the one who turned what she'd once enjoyed into a currency of agony, pain paid in exchange for silence and memory.

But her mind seemed convinced as though he was, and that only made her feel worse. Any thought that he might desire to ravish her as he once had filled her with fear.

"We should--hurry back," Tav said, once she had finished with her hair, "We've got to make a start, and...I...we should speak to Wyll, too."

"Does he know of everything? Did he die?"

"No, no, he took his father's place, and..."

The effects of the calm spell were fading, and then came the sudden panic that Wyll might inadvertently reveal all. Tav took a deep breath, and attempted to force the fear back.

"He was well enough, until the end, when...when it all went so wrong."

She tried on standing to once again hand Halsin his pelt, but he only smiled and draped it around her shoulders. "No, no, it is yours. Let it stay where it is, and keep you as warm as I wish to."

Tav prayed Halsin wouldn't realize that the smile on her face did not reach her eyes.

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

Of course.

When she and Halsin returned to camp to find Raphael standing in its midst, that was all Tav could think.

Of course.

A flash of memory from the previous night went through her mind. The teeth at her neck, the claws at her hips or on her shoulders, the...

It seemed as though he knew what she was thinking, because the moment her thoughts were on the more intimate parts of the previous night, Raphael's gaze turned in her direction. His placid expression shifted into a smirk, and there was no spell that could blot out the hysterical dread that seized her then.

"Such terrible manners you have," Raphael tutted at her, "Am I not even to receive a welcome?"

"You aren't wanted here, devil," Halsin growled, "And if you will not leave, we will--"

"I wasn't addressing you, bear, but your dear leader, who really should do me a favor and call you off. If I am to get Karlach's work done, I can't have distractions."

"Karlach's...work?" Halsin was confused, as were Gale and Astarion, who were the only others within earshot, but he was the only one to speak. "Tav, what's he talking about?"

"Tell him," Raphael's eyes practically glittered with mischief, "Tell the druid what I mean. One would think such a caring leader would be proud she had found a solution to the problem unsolveable."

"I made a deal..." Tav's voice shook as she spoke, "With him, to...to fix Karlach's infernal engine."

"Yes, and it's a good thing you were wise enough to accept my aid...she would not have lasted very long without it. Now where is she? Be a good mouse and fetch her."

Tav's body didn't react automatically as it used to when Raphael gave an order, but she went off anyway. The sight of his smug smirk filled her mind, and a nervous gulp soon followed. She didn't dare look up, fearful of any inquisitive or pitying looks from the others.

"Karlach," she finally said, once she'd reached the tiefling, "I've found a solution for your infernal engine problem."

"Really, soldier?" A hopeful smile followed. "Did Dammon come up with something while we were all asleep?"

"No, no, I didn't go to Dammon," Tav shook her head, "I...had a chat with a devil of Avernus who said he knew how to fix you."

"If his idea is for me to go back to Avernus, then the answer is no. I just escaped Zariel, I don't want to put myself under another devil's power. It'd just be trading one master for another."

"I'm not entirely sure what solution he has in mind, I'm not an infernal engineer. But I've already...paid him...so there's no need to worry about anything being required of you."

And maybe, she thought, as she lead Karlach back to Raphael, Maybe once you find out about Gortash, you will be merciful enough to only break my neck.

She knew damn well it could not be hidden forever, but it was her fervent hope that it could at least be put off until after the Elder Brain was dealt with. When this was all over, there would be nothing for her to lose that wasn't already gone.

Some tiny part of her whispered that Karlach might be a solution to the agony. You could have told her, it said, and simply let her rage do what her rage does, until you are no longer moving. Until it is all over.

No, Tav refused, Too much is at stake. Everyone out there is relying on me.

She would simply have to find something, anything, to give herself to. Someone to help, that would fill this terrible emptiness.

"A little late, are we?" Raphael spoke the moment she was back, "Quite rude of you, but given the party I've heard tell of, it's a wonder you slept at all. I will be gracious, and forgive you."

"I never sleep well," Tav replied, and forcing back her disgust, added, "I am...grateful...you say so. Now...what exactly will this fix entail? Karlach doesn't wish to go back to Avernus."

"That's just as well, because I'm reasonably certain there's someone who wishes to keep her there. News does get around in the Hells, after all. And there won't be any tedious engineering work to do, no--that's why you came to me about this, isn't it? To find a savior in the face of certain doom?"

Answer, his eyes demanded of her.

Once more, though she was not being compelled to obey, Tav did.

"Of course."

A satisfied smile spread across Raphael's face, and shifted back to placid disinterest when he looked back to Karlach, reached up--

For a moment the tiefling's body was limp, like a reference doll suddenly bereft of its support. She nearly fell to the ground, but managed to catch herself before she did. Not a moment later she was sitting, though, hand over her chest, breathing hard.

"What's wrong?" Tav asked, and then looked to Raphael. "What did you do to her?"

"She needed a heart, did she not? It's functioning normally, no need to thank me...but if you wish to..."

Tav ignored him, and knelt beside Karlach. "Does anything hurt?"

"N...no, I just...I...I'm not used to a heartbeat...I haven't felt that in ages!"

She whooped, and then wrapped Tav in a tight hug, but Raphael standing there for a few moments before vanishing soured her thoughts and poisoned her happiness.

How grateful will she be when she learns the truth?

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

"We'll go south," Tav said, "To my home in the swamp to stock up on supplies, before we head to the mountain pass, and then to the Underdark."

"What of the creche?" Lae'zel asked, "Or have you decided to make prayers to your god and succumb to the ghaik?"

"We will visit the creche. But if they are hostile--which they may very well be, because we are not all githyanki, AND we have the tadpoles in our heads, it is best to have a backup plan. Would your creche not suggest slaying those with ghaik infection, were they not of your kind? With you present, it could be different. We might even persuade them into helping us assault Moonrise Towers, seeing as that is where the tadpoles are coming from."

"A...sound enough plan."

That conversation done, she looked over everyone packing things up, and sought out Wyll.

"We need to talk," she said in a low voice.

"Yes, I suppose we do." He gave a weak smile, "Karlach's been celebrating...please, tell me the patron you spoke of isn't Raphael."

"I could tell you that, but I'd be lying."

"What happened?" he asked. "How--"

Tav unloaded everything, finally relieved to have someone for whom there was no need to hide anything. Wyll had never judged her, after all, and surely would not judge her now. Halsin was all that was loving, but if he knew she'd been anywhere near Gortash in a romantic sense she feared that would all come to an end in an instant.

"I saw him back before--you showed up to my home that first time. He threatened to tell Cazador--who remembers everything, by the way--and I had to...pay him a debt of time."

She took a deep, shaky breath.

"I didn't know what else to do but give him what he wanted," she said. "It was either that or risk Cald's safety."

"Does Gortash remember?"

"Not a thing." Tav swallowed. "Not a bit, not at all. I could make him remember, but that would cost me half an hour and I don't--"

She took a shaky breath.

"Tav," Wyll said delicately, slowly, "What do you mean by it costing you half an hour?"

"Of time. With Raphael. Do I--do I need to explain further? I don't know why, but he's been like a man obsessed...I know he still wants the Crown of Karsus, but he's acting as if something's going to happen that will make me want to give him the Crown on my own. Without the--the deal he tried to give us last time, I mean."

"You don't need to do all that. Gortash--"

"As he is right now, Gortash wouldn't give me a second look," she said, "Other than...I don't know, seeing me as some wild hero to be broken under his boot. The situation was different because of Orin, but with Orin here...and he's not the same man I left behind. I could HAVE the same man, but--"

She took a deep breath.

"Does Cald know?" Wyll asked. "Have you told him?"

"As best I can," Tav replied. "About his father, I mean, and the adventure ahead. He knows nothing of Raphael except that he's not to be trusted."

"And Orin?"

"As you can no doubt tell, she doesn't remember anything," Tav replied, "We've got an opportunity here, and...I mean to take advantage of it. Well, not--you know what I mean. She could be a powerful ally instead of an enemy."

"I understand," Wyll gave a nod, and after a moment's consideration said in a lower voice, "What's the plan?"

"The same as last time. Defeat the Elder Brain. And this time...this time, we don't lose anyone. Not Lae'zel, not Halsin, not Astarion. Everyone lives."

She gave a weak smile.

"Can I count on the Blade of Frontiers for that?"

"The Blade of Frontiers is ever at your service." He gave a grin, and an exaggerated bow.

"Thank you, Wyll...thank you."

Tav lead them all away, south, feeling for the first time that her burden was beginning to lighten.

[thenewfuture]

Hey guys, Mod Freeze here….

…

…We need to talk.

Or more like, I need to talk and get these emotions off my chest.

If you were on my main blog then you know who this is about already. But for those unaware and not in the know…

Let’s get educated, I guess…

On Tuesday, several big name YouTubers were the talk of the town with their biggest sparks of controversy on Twitter. But we’re here to only talk about one of those individuals. Chuggaaconroy.

Chuggaaconroy is a long time YouTuber who has been making Let’s Plays of his favorite games for over 2 decades now. And I was avid watcher of his since I was about in middle school. Something…clicked with me with how he handled himself, his silly little puns, his goofy attitude, his informative research into the games he was playing; it all seemed so cool to me. I looked up to him, I wanted to be like him one day, maybe even go to a convention and meet him in person at his panel. That was my dream, he was idol…

……….On Tuesday, Lady Emily brought forward that Chuggaaconroy had been sexually harassing her last year. Asking her for feet pics and wanting her to partake in his fetish despite already having a girlfriend. To which, he admitted to be true. Claiming he “misread” the situation, or “was unaware” of how he was coming across….

….Y’know they say to never meet your heroes, or to never idolize anyone for these reasons alone, yet it never clicked with me. I was fans of many other big shots in the entertainment world, be it TV producers, actors, writers or other YouTubers, one by one each was found to be creepy in the end. Some of them I liked their content for a mere day before they turn around and got exposed. It’s be funny if it wasn’t so sad…

Despite all of that though, despite having seen numerous of people I’ve looked up to for their content and got inspired by, everytime. I told myself. “If this happened to Chuggaaconroy, I would just give up. I would give up on people, this dream I had, everything! Because I would know what to do with myself” I couldn’t fathom…a world…where someone I looked up to for such a huge part of my life…could do something like that…

So I want to talk about several topics regarding this.

Firstly, boundaries. It is always important for you to set up boundaries and protect yourself. Even against the smallest of things, know your limits, and address them right from the jump. If someone asks you to do something you’re not comfortable with, don’t play along to appease them, do not engage with that activity or person anymore and shut it down as soon as possible.

And this goes around the other way, it’s important to think before you say something and ask yourself? “Is this okay? Is it really all right to do this?” Something innocent and harmless to you may not be so to others, abd you have to check yourself. I have in the past spoken out of turn with others, typically in a joking matter when the situation was far more serious then I thought it to be. It led to conversations becoming awkward and south badly because I misunderstood something.

Now I know there is a....ginormous margin of a distance between making jokes at improper times and....sexually harassing someone to partake in a fucking fetish, but the point still stands. Communication is a two-way street. I also don't want to make it seem like I'm victim blaming here, oh no. The fault still lies with Chuggaa. I just want others to protect themselves in case something does arise similarly, and for others to think before doing something.

Next point, the defenders. Now I have made it abundantly clear that I am so distraught by this news, and wish that it was untrue or that this would be a dream I could wake up from. But we all have to face reality at some point. That doesn't stop others from trying to defend their beloved idol, oh-so much though. Now I can understand to some degree the point of having it resolved through DMs, instead of leaking it on Twitter for the whole world to know; but bottling up all those emotions and baggage isn't exactly the healthiest thing to do either. It was right fro Lady Emily to stand up and let everyone know of the sexual harassment she had to endure.

Regardless, people still wish to defend Chuggaa anyway. And some....think it would be an excellent idea....out of all excuses....to say that it's normal for him to not find any wrongdoings on his part.....because he's autistic and doesn't get social cues.

.......You all know exactly how I feel about this type of excuse so let me reiterate.

....Don't.

....Ever.

.....Ever....!

....Ever!

EVER!

Use Autism as an excuse, to justify shitty behavior!

It. Is. Unacceptable!

You're just being ableist and reducing every other austic person out there by condemning shitty behavior, and you're infantizing Chuggaaconroy and acting like he doesn't know any better.

Chuggaa is not a fucking soft "uwu"cinnamon roll baby boy, he's a grown thirty-something year old man! Treat him like it!

And also, Chuggaa has never once hidden behind his autism as an excuse for anything. He admitted to it without a shadow of an excuse or any truth dragging to be forced out of him. So don't say stuff for him and defend his actions with that. Because, news flash, LADY EMILY IS ALSO AUTISTIC! What fucking double standards are you implying by saying she should've simply said no, but free Chuggaa of any and all crime.

I fucking hate that excuse! And as a person with Autism myself, I WILL NOT FOR SUCH SHIT BEHAVIOR AND DEFENSE LIKE THAT!

Ugh.........

.......So....what now...? Am I ever going to learn? Are we ever going to learn? Should we stop idolizing and looking up to others in general? Is it wrong to ever dream and get inspired because of others... I don't think so...

This brings me to the last point I want to talk about...

Inspirational figures. It's easier said than done to not look up to somebody, it's human nature. We look up to people all the time. Our parents, family members, our friends, actors, musicians, writers, influencers, fictional characters. And it's to an ever greater effect when you're a child. We think of them as heroes, gods. People inspire one another, and that inspiration sparks a light in someone's heart, and allows that person to carve out their path and find their potential future in life.

How many of you have gotten in to something because of someone else? Because you saw someone popular do it and you wanted to follow in their footsteps. I'm guessing a lot of you...

There is nothing wrong with wanting to be like somebody, to chase down that avenue of the person you admire so much. And it's going to be a long and treacherous road, but I need you to understand something... That person is so far away...so out of reach you can't touch them...but you know who you can hold...your friends. Your family. Those people closest to you, are that matter most. Not someone behind a screen. And like I said, it's going to be extremely hard to break away from that idolization. But don't ever stop going down the road to your future. Don't chase after someone else....love yourself first and foremost. Inspire yourself. Be your own inspiration.

And if you look up to me, or if I have influenced you in any way with this blog or my writing... Thank you...that means a lot... And I hope you can shine even better than I can... I hope you stick with the ones that matter most to you.

So class, what did we learn today.

-Set up boundaries to protect yourself from strangers at the first jump

-Think of what you're going to say before you say it

-It is isn't inherently wrong to have heroes.

-Inspire yourself

-And don't fucking ever use autism as an excuse from criticism. Or I will find you and eat bones starting from the inside and working my way out!

Ahem...! So, that's all I wanted to say. I know this stuff isn't what you're used to on this blog but I just had to get this out there and speak about it somehow. And I hope to see you all soon with some updates.

Take care of yourselves...

-Mod

[lumen-tellus]

KURO YOURE COOKING TOO HARD I AM SO CLOSE TO PULLING OUT MY WALLET RIGHT NOW

(also some of the dialogue is really making me think of my own skk oc who is just an au of one of my other ocs and immmmmmm Thinking A Lot rn)

for anyone interested (aka only me, so this is also doubling as some note-taking for future me) -

currently, my SKK oc is a PGR AU of another oc, Yulia i.e. Maria from my original Dreamland project (which is currently languishing bc it only exists in my head and putting things down on paper is so hard dsygdsyudgsy)

for this AU, the planet ends up going boom bc it so happens to be one of those doomed civilizations watched by the Watchers - and so, Yulia and all her friends and loved ones go boom with it rip

subsequently, she gets reincarnated into the PGR world; from the very onset of her new life, her goal is to locate any of her friends who may or may not have been reincarnated as well. she spends a good chunk of her childhood combing Babylonia for anyone who even remotely seems like her friends or family, and when she comes up empty, she turns her sights to the remnants of humanity on earth.

thus she enlists to become a commandant for the mere opportunity of being able to head to the surface and get into often-enough contact with the people still living there, and that's where the canon plot takes over.

the fun part is that because her soul isn't native to the game universe, she simply cannot join the natural flow of this universe's cycle of life and death and entropy - she's been constantly reincarnating from all the dead ends of the timeline without realising, the act of death and reincarnation being so forceful that it wipes her memory of the other timelines save for fleeting pieces.

and ofc, with the numerous dead ends that come with a job as dangerous as hers, these fleeting pieces have been steadily piling up to the point that she's also been suspecting the same thing as Lee and his premonitions. though she can't say for sure what exactly is the cause for her own situation - she's perfectly human, though she's also quite well aware that there are some things that simply escape the definition of logic and plausability altogether.

so lol this mention of "deja vu" and this frame's general premise of time..................... lol. l o l. how fitting.

[townsenddecades]

1316 – Day 3

Baby Joan only survives for a few weeks before a fever, certainly brought about by malnourishment, claims her.

Both parents are devasted, but Malika is downright inconsolable. She doesn’t say as much to Benjamin, knowing he would try to talk her out of it, but she blames herself. She must have done something wrong. Maybe she could have been more careful, more pious, more anything. Maybe she should have eaten more, for her baby. But how could she have justified that to herself, when she would have been taking food out of Amye and Malcolm’s mouths?

Sadly, the tragedies don’t stop there. People have been dying of sickness and mere hunger for months, so it is little surprise when over in Mahlsberg, William Watmore, Edith’s husband, falls gravely ill. She doesn’t feel too well herself, but she supposes that that is merely her pregnancy, the lack of food, the fear for her husband and the pressure of taking care of the house and their young daughter all on her own. There is little time to nurse her husband on top of it, but she does her best.

It is almost a relief when he dies, even though she hates herself for the thought.

The reality of her situation, that she is now a starving, heavily pregnant widow with a small daughter to care for and a sodden, unyielding piece of land, only crashes upon her later. She takes care of the necessary formalities to have William buried – and she grieves for him, truly she does, she just can’t think of that right now – and then reaches out to her family. Her father’s and siblings’ support are now the only thing she can hope for.

Her family doesn’t fail her. It is arranged that she will spend the months until her second child’s birth in the empty cottage on her father’s land, so that she isn’t alone, and Malika and Benjamin can help take care of her daughter Elsie. She feels a bit guilty that she and Elsie will strain the Townsends’ limited food stores even further, but she doesn’t see any other way for the two of them to survive.

While she is away, William’s brothers will take over tending to her plot, which the Earl has graciously agreed to. No doubt the fact that her sister is married to his legal advisor’s son has helped with that. She doesn’t intend to complain.

She almost cries when she arrives back at the farm she grew up on and is greeted warmly by her father and siblings. It is a relief to not be responsible for once, and she is only too glad to give Elsie into a delighted Malika’s care and rest.

After losing her own babies, Malika is glad to have another child in the house to take care of, and is soon completely besotted with little Elsie, who is a precious, friendly girl. And Benjamin, despite the circumstances, is glad to have his daughter in his home again and is looking forward to meeting his youngest grandchild. Losing Duncan and Joan has been hard on him, too.

Edith takes a few days to regain her strength, but once she feels a little better, she puts herself to work. She might not be able to help being dependant on her family’s kindness and what little food they have, but she can at least help Malika in caring for the house.

So, she puts herself to work tidying, helping with the three young children, tidying, scrubbing, and whatever else needs doing. The work helps her not to think about William or her future too much. It still hurts her deeply that he will never meet their longed-for second child, or that her baby will never get to know its father.

She is glad to at least have a cottage to herself and to Elsie – that way, no one notices when she gives into her grief at night. The last thing she wants is for her family to think her ungrateful, after all they have done for her.

Prev: 1316, Day 2 <--> Next: 1316, Day 4, Part 1/2

WATCHER’S COMMENT:

Killing sims and writing about the grief of those left behind still hurts, but that’s the challenge. We’re not done with the famine deaths yet, either.

Joan would have been such a pretty sim, too. I am very unhappy that I won’t see her pass on those genes.

[thesorcererspen]

About Me

Hello,

I am TheSorcerer'sPen. Some just call me SP. Either is fine. Writing has always been a passion of mine since childhood. I graduated a few years ago with a degree in writing & rhetoric, but I've never been brave enough to share anything online. My fiance and best friend have both encouraged me to put myself out there more, so I wanted to start by introducing myself to the writing community here.

I am a lover of fantasy, sci-fi, mythology, and crime stories. I am also obsessed with manga/anime, especially HunterxHunter, Naruto, and Jujutsu Kaisen. My favorite book of all time is Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky. Game of Thrones and Dune are both in my top five favorite books of all time. I am not a huge fan of romance stories, but I love stories with well-written romance subplots. Action scenes are fun, but I am here for the great dialogue and character interactions. Internal conflict is seriously underrated.

I am a huge history and mythology buff, so much of my writing is inspired by these two things. I love writing dark fantasy stories and exploring themes of class, power structures, dysfunctional families, friendship, forbidden love, angst, etc. But, really, I just get such great joy from creating my worlds and creating characters that feel alive. My characters become like my imaginary friends.

I want to use this blog to showcase my writing and connect with other writers in the community!

I have two current WIPs listed below.

Traitors of the Nation

Genre: Urban Fantasy

In the nation of Astoria, the cold carves bone deep and its citizens are divided by blood—those with the golden blood type are called the magia, people with super abilities that manifest themselves when the user is thrust into dangerous situations. The noble elite wants to control this power with a class system that ranks its citizens based on the nobility of bloodlines and the usefulness of one’s abilities. Commoners with the golden blood type are forced into labor assignments, and the elite have created a device to suppress the abilities of an individual should they prove to be defiant.

Izan Ashida and Satoshi Nishimura are childhood friends who find themselves on opposite sides. Izan sits among the highest elites, serving as a bounty hunter who does the Crown's bidding, while Satoshi is placed in a lower class and branded a danger to society. War is brewing between the classes, and it has the royal family on edge. Revolution is coming. But when an elite military officer orders Satoshi be executed for treason Izan must confront a past he was desperate to leave behind and decide where his loyalties truly lie.

The Immortals' Gambit

Genre: High Fantasy/Mythos

Casimir Kozak has lived his life in hiding, afraid of being discovered as a cross-blood in a world where humans struggle as mere mortals and the vampiric hemomancers known as the Zegoshi reign as gods. But the nine immortals are not the only thing to fear.

The Watchers, a highly trained military faction of the Zegoshi, are everywhere. They are tasked with maintaining social order and executing any cross-bloods they encounter. Beyond the wall, there are dragons, violent beasts who are enemies to Zegoshi and humans alike. At least, that’s what he had always been told.

Tired of living within the confinements of the wall and wanting to escape his Zegoshi father, he runs away from home on his eighteenth birthday. But his venture outside the wall proves to be lethal when he has an encounter with a dragon, discovering that the beasts have been disguising themselves among humans.

A rogue Zegoshi intervenes, sweeping Casimir into a world of intrigue and danger. Forced into an alliance with an enigmatic young Watcher captain, the trio embarks on a mission to investigate the surging dragon threat in society. But as he begins to delve deeper into this world, he uncovers hidden truths about humanity’s history with the dragons, the true intentions of the gods, and a prophecy that reveals the role he must play in this deadly game of power and politics.

[gloriousladycrusade]

Chapter 2: Finally the magical time travel-ish {Chapter 1}

Chapter Text

I awoke jumping up from my bed lacking sleep as I usually have woken up, but these times I have tears in my eyes and they feel sore. I looked around to see my room, but a major thing was missing, the photo I held of my son smiling and the journal of the stories we exchanged during his last moments.

I immediately jumped up rummaging my room trying to find the most important items I own, could someone have stolen them?! I heard someone knocking on my door.

I was blinded by frustration, anger, and grief. I violently slid the door open causing a very loud thud of it hitting the wall, expecting a watcher or Caramel Arrow only to see no one until I looked down.

I saw my son, as a child, afraid, with tears brimming from his eyes, I was washed with regret and confusion.

I fell to my knees very vexed and had too many thoughts spinning in my head if I finally broke and am hallucinating. I was at the point of tearing up again, thinking the world has played some twisted joke upon me.

I was proven wrong when I felt small hands wiping the tears that were apparently falling from my face. I had apparently shed tears without me knowing again. “Father! Are you okay?!” I didn’t say anything, I just embraced my son. Hopeful it wasn't a some twisted illusion or a nightmare.

I can’t tell if I lost it or that it was a very long nightmare, I don’t care to know which one, I pray this is no trick. I let go and looked back down to see my son who is now very much alive but now a child. I don’t know when this was, was he brought back or did I really get a 2nd chance?

I realized he was looking at me worried and confused at my state. “Father, what's wrong?” I had nearly forgotten what he sounded like as a child, he sounded like any other child filled with life and determination. Right now however, he sounds really worried about me.

I did not deserve his love for me, I neglected the responsibility of a father and taught him how to survive and protect others, never did I teach him how to appreciate and love those he protected and survived for.

All that he had gotten when he left was how cold and grueling this kingdom was to him, nothing more. I spaced out again, and never really assured my situation, he was brimming in tears either still or because of my concerning actions.

“Father?” I gave a small pat on his head “I’m.. not feeling the best today, forgive me for scaring you earlier son.�� He looked up with the same expression still “Did anything stress you again?”

Right, this was me being delved into my responsibility as a king. I shook my head, I was far more disturbed by other things that were worse. “No, I..” I tried to find what to say to no avail.

I merely just walk back to my bed, sliding the door back closed and sitting down on the bed checking one last time that this isn’t a hallucination or some type or cruel trick. My son followed me but did not sit next to me, instead he merely just waited in front of me.

I gestured to him that he could sit down. He does sit down next to me, I think he was quite reluctant about it. “I- please, if this isn’t real, please tell me…” I looked back at him and he was probably thinking about what to say, he was smart and mature for his age, I await his response.

After a short silence “I’m pretty sure I’m real, unless we’re both dreaming,” He lays down on bed “Did you have a nightmare father?” I really do not know, I just hope not, that would be the worst conclusion.

“I don’t know, what is the date today?” I said looking at him, he looked more worried than scared a while ago, tilting his head in confusion. “Well, it’s, ~~~~” He sits back up to look at me and points somewhere in the room “there’s also that calendar you have”

I looked at the general area he pointed to and saw a calendar, I got rid of it later on at one point forgetting I even had one. I just give a frustrated sign trying to rack my mind back together.

I can hear him rustling and moving, I was too busy thinking. What happened? How did this happen? How did I possibly get far back? I felt multiple taps on my shoulder that I subconsciously ignored to delve into thought. “Dad”

I sort of slightly jerked my head up, I haven’t heard him call me that in a long time, it was usually only father. I looked down on him to see what he had to say. “Um- I mean father,” I visibly frowned, I was frowning at myself and what caused him to just state me as father and only father.

I shook my head “No, dad or whatever you feel like calling me is okay.” He stopped being tense and nodded back in slight relief at me. “Do you want to talk about it, Dad?”

I finally realized how bad I was with emotions and everything about it, even though I wanted to, I have no idea how to. “I…really don’t know how to” He tilted his head again looking at me, “Hmm, well I can just ask questions that can help you talk about it?”

I just sighed again and nodded, not really knowing what to do after. “What’s bothering you right now?” I was very hesitant to say it, what else can I say?

“I.. you,” He looked confused and somewhat hurt “I’m bothering you?” “No! You’re not bothering me, I… something happened to you” His look of concern was back “In your dream?” I really have no idea what to say or react, how am I supposed to say my situation without sounding deranged?

I stayed quiet for a while “hopefully, it was all a dream…” He stared at me in silence, I didn’t even look him in the eyes, I just looked down. He moved to sit next to me, placing a pillow on my lap and laying his head on said pillow, and looked up at me.

“Did something happen to me?” I could only nod in defeat even though there was nothing to lose to. He was quiet for a while and again then finally spoke 3 words that have affected me more than it should have. “Did I die?”

I just froze with my mind blank, trying to process 3 simple words, he was always good at these things. He somehow always knew. Tears slowly fell down my face again landing on my son.

“In my arms, it was a clear night, the stars and the moon were the brightest I’ve ever remembered.” His expression at me didn’t change “And what happened after?” Tears fell heavier and quicker “I was in denial, I tried everything, and yet you still died. I pushed the healers too hard on something they could not do.” He sat up to hug me, latching onto my neck. I could hear him sniffling, I guess he was also crying.

I hugged him back, I was too choked up to say anything. “It’s okay dad, I’m here” His voice was broken saying it. I clung onto him alswell, I was never good with words. I said nothing other than strangled sobs. “It’s okay papa, I’m here” I couldn’t tell if those words were to comfort me or him, either way it doesn’t matter.

“I love you papa” I hugged him harder, I do not deserve those words from my kind son. “I love you too son, I love you so so much, I..I.. regretted not saying these words to you for so long I-” “It’s okay papa, I know you love me even if you don’t say it” I was too stunned to say anything and loosened my grip and sat him in front of me to look at him again. I really did not deserve this, his love and admiration. I really planned on not letting him go for a long time until there was an eventual knock on the door.

“Sir? Is everything alright?” I could hear one of the watchers say, I look at my son, he doesn't want to let go so I just carry him and open the door. “Everything’s fine, what’s the schedule today?”

The watcher diverted his attention to look at me carrying my son for a bit and eventually, albeit they sounded reluctant for some reason, gave me my schedule for today. I thanked them and set off to do them all while carrying my son still latched on my neck.

I had to set aside my emotions for now and do my duties. I saw the former watcher trainer somewhat nervously pacing through the halls looking for something or someone and then spots me, immediately making a beeline for me and bowing.

I noticed my son fell asleep in the commotion of the morning. “My king, the young prince was not present so I went-” I gave a silent ‘shh’ and pointed to my son. They were confused at first then perked up all happy and now speaking in a quieter voice.

“Ah, forgive me my king, the young prince seems to be tired, I shall schedule a different time for him to attend his training.” They gave an endearing smile, bowed again and left.

I was never eccentric to do my ‘kingly duties’, but they were necessary so I never complained or state that I loved doing it. That last part would be a blatant lie, I would be amused by some of the outlier problems that were present, but it never becomes anything more.

I give a small sigh, still carrying my son. I somehow manage to sit down in the throne/work chair and figure out how to write and sign some papers. (think of this like the tree of wishes except it was on citizen’s problems with things in the citadel, ect, and informing them to dark cacao)

I was hardly expressive to everyone, but right now I would not need to keep composure so I’m pretty sure I was very visibly inconvenienced by this. With a lot of small complaints and annoyed sighs later,

I was around halfway there, I think. Then I noticed my son waking up, giving a small yawn, he did not let go still, possibly feeling lazy.

I’m not going to stop him from doing so “Good morning” I could hear him reply a tired quiet ‘good morning’ back. “You know, I saw someone report that a cake hound stole something and they want it back”

He finally let go, I was kind of sad and relieved, he has a decently strong grip for a child. “Really? That’s so stupid. Are you sure that was a real complaint?” He was trying to find it through one of the completed neat stacks of papers I signed and or reviewed.

I moved his hand away from the papers giving him the paper, I saved it in case of this happening. “Those papers took a lot longer of my life than what you think” He was chuckling “All because of a cute little cake hound” I give an annoyed sigh “yes, and apparently the wind as well”

he was still looking through and reading the random needs, requests, and or problems that need to be fixed. “Hehe, apparently you’re in a good and bad mood at the same time today”

I nod my head, reluctantly agreeing, thinking how I never really acted like this at all back then and this would be a weird shift.

I keep writing and signing after like 5 of the papers I yawned and shut my eyes for a few seconds only to be greeted with a paper in front of my face. “Someone’s kid lost their favorite stick in the forest” I gave a groan of annoyance and was very tempted to slam my head on the table.

“I want to slam my head on the table” It was all I could say in response and he was laughing at it. “Sooooo, are you going to send watchers to find the missing stick?” I resumed scanning the papers “Only a cake hound at most, they have a better chance and more excitement finding a stick”

He chuckled at that agreeing and it was quiet for a while, I was too busy being annoyed at what I’m currently doing forgetting this unfortunate chore. “I’m glad” Well that cut through the quietness, I didn’t say anything, I just looked at my son to show that he has my attention.

“Can we have more days like this? Please?” I was hurt that he had to go through this the first time, I always cared about him. Being a stone-cold king as someone’s usual personality usually is not someone’s great view of what a good father would be, I agree.

I looked back at my son and saw him awaiting my response, I accidentally took longer to respond. “Of course, I would be glad to have more days like these.” I set down the brush I was holding on the ink pad “As long as I don’t have to carry you everytime” He was giggling “Umm dad, can I hug you?” I nod “You don’t ever need to ask okay?”

He didn’t respond, he just hugged me “thank you” I gladly hugged back giving a genuine smile I’ve had in a long time “Of course” Time passes by quickly as a watcher walks a while later and says that a party has come back.

We both sat up from the throne room finally, I hate that chair. We were walking, escorted by the same watcher. Midway I told them they could go back to their post and that we would be fine. After some time of still walking towards the gate I see my son immediately walk somewhere else towards the mini pond present near.

I followed him down to the pond and he was crouching down and looking at the pond. I don’t know what he’s looking at but I don’t really need to care. “You know we need to greet and treat the watchers’ return” I say as he looks back, he nods in response

“I just wonder how that pond didn’t freeze over yet, it’s always so cold here” I nod understanding his curiosity and looked back at that tiny pond asking the same question within my head.

We kept on walking towards the gate, everyone one born here is used to the harsh weather so the cold doesn’t bother us as much as other cookies from other lands. “Hey dad, can you carry me again?” I playfully roll my eyes at him “And break my back doing so? I think not.” He was swinging my arm back and forth

“Pleaseeeeee? You always carry that sword that’s like 10 times heavier than me on the battlefield!” I gave a small chuckle “You can walk, I can see the gate from here.” He kept swinging my arm, he was never like this, most likely because I was never like this back then. “Pleaseee?”

I raised a brow looking at him and reluctantly agreed. One thing I agree with is that he was much lighter than the grape jam sword, a sword I've gotten used to carrying, no ordinary cookie can carry it of course. I’m also quite sure back when my son was older before this chance, he would still have a hard time carrying it.

“So this is what it’s like to be tall, I want to be tall like this someday!” I knew he would be as tall as me in the future, I gave a small smile again. “I’m sure you will be when you grow up.” We get to the gate already opening revealing the group of watchers returning.

They were all fine with little injury and no casualties “Looks like they’re all fine” he was resting his chin on top of my head, he’s right, most of them look fine. “That does not mean they’re not tired” he hums in response “I’m not coming down you know” “You will come down soon for my back’s sake”

He laughs it off while we go over to the watchers “My king we found a different snow prowler along the way but we handled it and drove it away”

I nod “Was that the only note-worthy thing in the radius around the walls?” “Not really sir, the Snow Prowler was driven away, but we found a strange plant that was not recorded in the herbology records.”

A strange plant? This caught my son’s attention as well “Hello young prince” He gave a small wave “Hi” Strange, an undocumented plant unfound for so long near the walls? I tell the watcher to give their information on said plant to an informant to record it.

“Your majesty, everything has been accounted for.” I tense only slightly, and accidentally made my face immediately fall and look aggravated. I know that voice, that traitorous sea snake, Affogato.

I had forgotten that they were a long time advisor, along with Caramel Arrow being a heavily trusted watcher. I turn to see him giving the same fake expression of his traitorous two-sided face, with a smile that I now interpret differently.

A smile of trust is what I used to think it was, now it is nothing more to me but a deceptive facade. I compose myself and then nod. “Thank you Affogato, feel free to do what you want for the week.” I do not trust that leech to do and maintain my duties, they looked surprised at my decision.

“But my liege! You have a heavily crowded schedule and it would take more effort and energy for you to finish them all!” I shook my head “I will be fine..” I look back up to my son that I'm still carrying and look back at them “I will manage”

With some help hopefully and maybe even just some plain motivation from my son. "Are you sure my liege?" I just nod, I realized how power hungry he was in the future. A side of him I will note and be weary of.

[justnerdthings]

New Beginnings Ch. 1

Female Reader x Liu Kang/Kung Lao (Not sure which yet)

Note: First fic I'm posting. Be gentle. I have a tendency to edit my stuff to death, but i'm gonna fight it. Anyway. This is the first chapter of a Mortal Kombat reader insertion fic. Takes place a few years before the new 2021 movie. Feel free to send me questions, concerns, comments, whatever. But remember this is for fun.

A mix of voices slowly stirred you. You didn’t understand what they were saying. A mumbling. Hushed. And as you finally became aware that you had woken up, it took everything in you to just open your eyes.

Cold. It was so cold. You could feel your body begin to shiver. As you looked up at the ceiling, you noticed immediately, even with heavily blurred vision, that this was not your ceiling. Or any ceiling you knew.

The familiar wave of anxiety crashed over you. Every nerve in your being came to life as adrenaline was instantly pumped through your veins. Where were you? You moved to sit up. Your head spun. Your stomach came up to your chest. A weak cry escaped you as you fell back on what you thought was a table.

The voices silenced. You had only just noticed that before you heard footsteps coming closer. The sound of fabric flapped.

You were holding your head as you dared to open your eyes and see only a vague, unfocused image of someone standing over you. “Wh-... Who are you?” You could barely speak.

“It’s alright. You’re safe now,” a soft, masculine voice answered.

You didn’t feel like protesting. Your head… Your head was throbbing. You’d had headaches before, but this took the cake. This was the blue ribbon of headaches. You felt your stomach lurch again. You gagged. Oh no, you thought. Your mouth watered. Oh no, you dreaded. You knew it was coming. “Bu-... Bucket-!” You barely got the word out as you rolled to your side and stomach acid spewed from your mouth.

Whoever was standing there had seen it coming. Perhaps your skin turned white or green just before it happened. It all went into a bucket… At least you thought it was a bucket. “It’s okay. Let it out,” the man soothed. You felt a hand begin to rub your back, and that alone was enough to fire off your nerves and make you hurl again. “That’s it. Take your time.”

You must have thrown up at least twice more before you began dry heaving. Nothing left to come up. Rolling onto your back, your breath was labored, chest rising just to fall like a brick landed on it, repeatedly. Oh, God, what the hell happened?

You’d passed out.

You’d woken again to voices. This time, they were more clear. You still couldn’t make out the words exactly, but you knew they were words at least. Eyes opening, they slowly focused. The ceiling was definitely not yours. It was stone… A cave? Orb lanterns hung above you to light the room. Your head was only slightly less throbbing. Slowly, ssslllooowwwlllyyy, you pushed yourself up. Something pulled at your hand. Looking to it, you noticed an IV line. What the hell? Who put that in your hand? Your head spun, but thankfully not nearly as bad as before. You could handle it.

“Oh! You’re up!” A voice called. You turned your head to see… a monk? Was he a monk? What the hell was a monk doing here?... Where was here? “Yes. Good. You’re up,” he said, with an accent and mild broken english. He stopped at the side of the table you sat on and bowed his head. “How do you feel? Should I grab another bucket?” He asked, voice full of concern.

God, you felt awful. Like the hangover from hell. You shook your head to the monk and held your head. “Where am I?” you croaked.

“Ah. Good. You’re speaking much better now.” He was nodding. “Where you are is not important right now. Please, tell me how you feel.”

“What?... No, where am I?” You insisted.

The monk had frowned, but seemed to have expected some protest. “You are in the temple of Lord Raiden. He sent for you after he sensed your danger.” “What? Lord who?” You rubbed your head and finally looked up at the monk, your brows knotted in confusion.

“Lord Raiden. A very generous Lord. He protects Earthrealm--your homeword.”

“My what?” What the hell was this guy talking about?

He seemed troubled suddenly. How could he explain simply… There was no simplicity in this situation. “Forgive me. You’re safe. You are among friends. Please…” He turned and reached for a side table where a clay pitcher sat. He poured water into a clay cup and offered it with such grace.

You took it. “Thanks…” Something about accepting drinks from strange men went through your mind as you looked into the cup. It looked like water. It smelled like… well, nothing. Did water even have a scent? You hesitantly took the tiniest sip you could… It tasted like nothing. Maybe it was water.

But he sensed your suspicion. He poured another cup, making sure you watched him, and then drank the cup dry. He showed you the empty cup to prove it.

You looked to your cup. To him. To the pitcher. Back to your cup. Well, if he would drink it… You took a committed sip and let the water wash over your mouth and down your irritated throat. It must have gotten burned when you threw up. You finished the cup and looked back to the monk. He held out his hand with a smile. You handed him the cup. He refilled it. He handed it back. You drank from it again, more comfortably.

“Yes. Good. Not too much. Don’t want it coming back up,” he said and sat the pitcher back on the side table. He gave you a grateful bow, for what, you didn’t know, and stepped away. “You gave us quite a scare when you got here,” he spoke as he ruffled through old cabinets and old clay jars on the other side of the room. “You’re lucky to be alive. Thankfully your arcana surfaced just in time, by what I was told.”

Your what? You eyed the pitcher of water again, then the IV still stuck in your hand. You ripped it out with a small grunt and tossed it to the floor. Looking up to the IV bag, you reached and turned it over to read the label. It was a simple saline. A breath of relief escaped you. At least it wasn’t something harmful.

“Yes. Very lucky indeed. Fortune favors you, I see. Very good.”

The hell was this old man talking about? You reached for the pitcher as he went on and poured yourself some more water.

“Lord Raiden will certainly be pleased that you’ve recovered. Oh…” He paused, a look of realization crossed his face. “I should send word to him that you’ve woken again. This time for the better it seems.” He left the cabinets and walked over to the curtain that separated this room from a small hallway. He stuck his head out and began calling out, “Brother Zhao! Please send word to Lord Raiden! Our guest has woken! She seems well!”

Brother Zhao? Where the hell—

“Yes. Good.” He was back at the cabinets again. “Here we go.” He finished with whatever it was and walked back over to you with a bowl, offering it to you.

Looking into the bowl, your brows rose at the sight of some sort of… goop. You looked to him, at a loss of what it was.

“Ah. Yes. Okay. For your head. Taste awful, but works good. Just a bite.”

Your expression only changed slightly, but the volume was much higher. No way where you going to eat that. What even was it?

“No? Okay.” He set the bowl on the side table next to the pitcher. “It’s here if you change your mind.”

Unlikely, you thought. But your head continued to throb.

“Perhaps food then?” He asked, and you suddenly became very aware of your very empty stomach. “Dinner will be served soon. I’m sure there will be something there you like.”

You had to change the subject. Your stomach had awoken with the offer of food. “Who are you?” You asked.

“I am Brother Feng,” He answered with modesty.

“So... This is a temple. You must be a monk?” You questioned.

“Yes!” He answered in soft glee. “I serve Lord Raiden.”

“Who is Lord Raiden?”

“He is the watcher and protector of Earthrealm.”

“So… Like a god?”

“God. Yes.”

“Okay. So, this is a religious temple?”

“No.”

Your head was spinning again, but this time in sheer confusion.

“Not religious as you know. It is merely a shelter for the Order of Light.”

“Order of Light?”

“Yes.”

“Which is…?”

“The warriors of Earthrealm.”

“Right…” Of course. How could you be so thick, you thought with heavy sarcasm. “Are there other… realms?”

“Yes. Many.”

“How many?”

“I do not know exactly… Most have been destroyed. They no longer exist as they once did. Barren. Empty.”

“What happened?”

“Oh, that is a long story. Too long for me to explain in one sitting. I’m sure Lord Raiden will tell you everything himself.”

“He’s going to talk to me?”

“Yes! Of course!”

“Like… He’s a person? I thought gods were spiritual.”

“He is both.”

You weren’t sure what to say. What could you say? You were going to meet a god… or someone anyway. “Okay,” Was the only word that left your mouth before you sipped from your cup.

A knock came at the wall on the other side of the curtain and Brother Feng turned to answer. With his head poked out to see who it was, he spoke with controlled joy. “Master Liu. Wonderful. Did Lord Raiden send you?”

“Brother Feng,” A soft voice answered behind the curtain. “Yes. He was told she had awoken?”

“Yes, yes! Come.” Brother Feng had stepped aside and a much younger, much more handsome man walked into the room. He wore a black, sleeveless gi with a red sash tied around his waist. In his left hand was a string of prayer beads he seemed to be idly fidgeting with. His deep brown eyes found you instantly and to your surprise, he bowed at the waist to you.

“I am Liu Kang. I come on behalf of Lord Raiden. He wishes to speak with you if you are well enough.” His voice was so controlled, yet so relaxed and smooth. You could tell he was a man of well manners… perhaps a monk himself? He did have prayer beads. But damn, he was just too handsome to be a monk.

Wait. What? What were you thinking? You didn’t even know this guy!

He was easy on your eyes though. How could you not notice.

“Miss…?” His concern pulled you from your head.

“Oh. Sorry. I just… Headache,” you admitted. It was only a tiny lie. You’d gotten distracted. But you did have a headache. Was that bad? You were in a temple? Did they know it was a lie?

“Perhaps I should return later,” Liu Kang suggested, not at all seeming upset with the idea. “After you rest some more.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to this guy. He just oozed patience. “N-no. It’s okay. I can speak with him.”

Liu Kang’s concern was drowned by a small smile. He bowed his head and stepped aside with a gentlemanly gesture towards the curtain. “After you. Please.”

Where the hell were you? A temple. Lord Raiden’s temple. Okay. But where? You scooted to the edge of the table and placed your cup on the side table. Brother Feng had come to your side and offered his assistance. You were thankful for it. Your legs wobbled as you pushed onto them. Just how long had you been asleep? Looking over yourself, you were still wearing your own clothes.

Brother Feng allowed you to use him to steady yourself as you willed your legs to work. By the time you reached the curtain you were confident enough to let go of him, but you could feel him watching you with great attention. You could feel Liu Kang had taken over as you stepped out into a small hallway.

The hall was lined with more rooms curtained off. It became apparent that this had been some sort of makeshift hospital. An eerie, familiar feeling set in. Modern technology contrasted the antique furniture as you made your way down the hall.

“This way.”

You snapped back to focus on Liu Kang, who now gestured towards an actual door. A simple wooden door. You turned and walked… albeit a bit shaky. Liu Kang opened the door for you and let you step through first. You’d then stepped into a long, torch lit hallway. The walls were still cave-like. You couldn’t help it. You had to ask. “Are we underground?”

Liu Kang smiled and shook his head as he led you down the hall, staying at your side. He kept a watchful eye on you, seeming ready to catch you at any second. “No. Not exactly. This temple was carved into the side of a ravine. You’ll be able to see once we turn that corner ahead.”

“Ravine?...” Suddenly, you remembered your fear of heights. Okay, fear wasn’t the right word. Phobia. That fit better.

Liu Kang seemed to notice your sudden fear, because he now turned his head to look at you completely. His eyes searched your face. “Yes. A ravine. Are you alright? Do you need to rest?”

You shook your head. “No. No, I’m fine. Just… Not a fan of heights.”

He seemed to relax with that confession. He nodded. “We will pass the view as quick as you can manage.”

You nodded. Good. Hopefully you could avoid the view completely if you just looked at the floor the whole time.

“My apologies, there is no other route from here,” guilt was heavy in his voice.

“No. It’s okay. I just wont look. If I don’t look, I can’t see how high up I am. It’ll be like it never happened,” You lied nervously. Truth was, you were so afraid of heights, that even climbing a step ladder made you nervous. Always had. Ever since you’d fallen out of that tree as a kid.

Liu Kang continued to watch you. You glanced up to him and noticed just how his eyes seemed to look not at you, but into you. You looked away, back to the floor as he led you around the corner.

“Don’t look,” He warned with a gentle voice. You took a deep breath and tried to walk faster. But of course, you snuck a peak out of the corner of your eye and caught the sight of the setting sun. Not a cloud in sight. Stars were just beginning to shine… Then your eyes drifted down.

You saw it. The ravine. You gasped and froze. Oh no. No. No. Too high. Way too high. You stopped dead in your tracks. Liu stopped just a step ahead of you. He looked back with a furrowed brow.

“I looked…” You sheepishly admitted.

He frowned. “You said you wouldn’t.”

“Yeah.”

He stepped to the other side of you, blocking your view. His eyes drifted down to your chest and you felt the instinct to slap him for looking, for being a perv.

He must have noticed your disapproval. As he looked back up to your face, a red hue came to his cheeks. “Oh. No.” He held his hands up defensively. “I did not mean to offend you. I was just watching your breath.”

Yeah, sure. You’d heard that one before… No you hadn’t. That was a new one.

“Your breathing is shallow.”

“Kinda normal when you’re scared,” you quipped.

“Breathe. It’s okay. Just breathe.” He gestured with his hand the rise and fall of his own diaphragm as he took a deep breath. You tried to copy his breath, but yours shook. “Good. I promise, you’re okay. You’re not going to fall. Come here.” He took a small step forward and you watched his feet. Taking another forced deep breath, you willed forward. He took another step. You took another step. Another step. Another step. “Breathe,” he coached gently. You sucked in another breath. “There. Keep going.” He began to walk at a normal pace and you stayed right with him.

When you thought you couldn’t do it anymore, you reached the next corner and were again surrounded by the cave's walls. A heavy, relieved breath escaped you as you leaned against one of the walls. And to his credit, Liu Kang didn’t say an ill word of it. He seemed to relax with you, as if worried you were going to panic. Which you did.

“See? You did it,” He told you, that warm smile on his face again.

You nodded and let another relieved breath leave you. “Please tell me I don’t have to do that again.” But his silence made you look back up to him.

He frowned.

You groaned with dread.

“I think we’ll focus on getting rid of your fear of heights. Training won't do you any good if you can’t focus,” He thought aloud.

“Training? What?”

“Lord Raiden will explain.”

“Just how many more views do I have to walk by before I get to see this guy?”

“... I will block your view as best I can.”

You groaned again. That meant there was at least one more hall like that one. Hopefully just one.

It wasn’t just one.

It was four.

Four.

Why did this Lord Raiden have to build his house in a damn hole in the Earth?!

You couldn’t do this anymore. No. No more views. Walls were good. Solid, windowless walls were good. Liu Kang placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“This fear is a problem.”

“Yeah.” You nodded quickly.

“But you faced it. Five times. You could have stopped before the first.”

You groaned.

“You have a brave soul,” He said with confidence. “I can see why Lord Raiden was adamant about saving you.”

“Saving me?” You looked to him. At this point, a confused expression could just be permanently plastered to your face and it’d always be accurate around here.

“Yes. Come on. Only a little more way to go.” He stepped ahead of you. You followed.

"There you are," a deep voice called as Liu Kang finally led you into a large room of pillars that resembled Tesla coils. You looked to see a man, dressed in all white with a harvester hat that obstructed most of his face from view.

Liu Kang bowed his head to his Lord in greeting as he walked towards the man in white. "Lord Raiden, she is exactly as you described."

You, once again, confused, looked to Liu Kang as you followed him past the electric pillars. You could feel the electricity in the air and it made the hair on the back of your neck stand.

"Is she? That's great news." Raiden tilted his head up just enough so now you could see two glowing blue eyes staring right at you.

A chill was sent down your spine, but you stood your ground, mostly curious about this man, this place. Was he really a god?

"Yes. I am really a god," Raiden answered your thoughts. Your eyes widened and a sense of dread filled you.

Don't think of anything embarrassing. Don't think of anything embarrassing. Don't think about Liu Kang's ass, you thought frantically. You'd been stealing glances of it the whole way here.

Raiden grinned. Then he laughed openly.

Ah, shit. Your face grew hot. It must have been red as a firetruck.

Liu Kang, however, was now the one confused.

[prose-for-hire]

Penny for your thoughts

Pairing: Wesley x reader

Request: Not requested. I just needed to write something from my own brain !! Inspired very loosely by season 3′s ‘earshot’. Reader can read minds and struggles with this. One day, they meet Wesley and thoughts threaten to spill. [Italics = thoughts]

Warning: Very mild violence mentioned. Hostage situation.

When you first meet people, you always knew exactly what your first impression on them is. Sometimes it was good, others not so good. But it was never as disastrous as the time you met Wesley. He hadn’t been in a good mood that day anyway, he was late and his research had led to nothing. Even worse, he would have to face Giles and admit that he had been wrong about which codex the relevant information would be in.

It was the early morning and you had arrived at your new job. You had needed something normal, you weren’t to know that living in Sunnydale would be the furthest thing from normality. You were the new school administrator, hired only because you knew the exact answers that Snyder was looking for when he interviewed you.

There was something about you that people couldn’t tell just by looking at you. You were telepathic. You could read people’s minds. That’s how you knew exactly how much he disliked your demeanour. Some people were jealous of your abilities, but often you decided it wasn’t worth the constant headache (both metaphorical and unfortunately literal too).

Whenever anybody found out, they often held you at arm’s length. People liked to keep their thoughts in their own heads, apparently. Not in yours. You had been practicing ways to ease the headaches and thus quietening the voices down inside your mind. These foreign thoughts bubbled up when you focused on someone you were near, but you could block out a lot of it now. Thanks to a lot of practice.

This morning, Wesley had been trying to walk straight past the front office and into the library without being stopped – but you had got in the way of that. You stepped in front of him and he stared at you as if he was trying to burn holes into you.

“Yes?” he asked curtly, looking past you now towards the corridor he should be walking down.

“Hi, I’m Y/n, the new administrator. Snyder’s asked me to put this sign-in sheet in place for, uh, late staff…”

“This is ridiculous! I am barely a minute past the hour-”

“I know, but you still need to sign…” You said, your voice wavering as he thought about how he wished that you would explode into dust like a vampire and leave him alone. He scribbled something illegible onto your sheet and stormed away, cursing you both in his head and under his breath as he walked.

You sighed. You learned two things on your first day at Sunnydale High, one being that doing your job and contractually having to side with Snyder wasn’t going to win you any friends. And a second being that vampires, demons and evil existed. Which, I mean, you guessed it must be true if you had the abilities that you did but it was finally confirmed to you.

The rest of the term went on like this, with you only ever encountering Wesley the same way and him getting decidedly more annoyed with you every time. You, on the other hand, became more fond of him. You learnt more about him every morning through his thoughts and found him to be a kind and genuine man who was just desperate to prove himself to the people he now worked with.

After getting a cold reception ever since you met him, one morning was a little bit different. Not only because Wesley was early but he made a point by saying good morning very loudly to you to which made you smile widely at him. You couldn’t help it, his thoughts had made you really like him. He faltered only slightly and you didn’t quite catch what he thought as he brusquely walked past.

Much like in verbal conversation, you didn’t always hear everything clearly if you weren’t focusing enough. Moreover, you often tried to make a point of letting people have as much privacy as you could. You could hear an underlying buzzing of everyone’s thoughts but if you focused and isolated on a person you could hear it clearly. But everything was always so busy it could be hard to catch things clearly sometimes.

In some instances, however, some specific thoughts called out to you with an almost painful clarity. This happened later that same day. You had walked into the library to explain to Giles that there had been some complaints from students that they had been turned away from the library for no good reason when it hit you.

I will eat them. I will kill them all…

You must have reacted very obviously as Giles with sincerity asked if you were okay. You rushed out your words, knowing that this was a lot to suddenly admit – but you knew these were the right people to tell.

“There’s something in here, the school I mean. Something looking to eat people. You need to, uh, do some research. The Sumerian will have to wait, this is happening. And soon-”

“H-how did you know about-” Giles began, he had just thought about beginning to read the Sumerian text he needed.

“Uh, yeah, so, I can read thoughts and I know I can trust you because you save the world often between school opening hours and I never once thought about telling Snyder so please just trust me?”

“I knew it!”

“You have never thought that before, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce”

I may have done… eventually.

“But you didn’t” You smiled softly and he looked at the ground. Giles caught this look between you and your seemingly one-sided conversation. You found his look endearing and found yourself thinking this for a moment too long before snapping yourself out of it.

Nobody tried to test you or question you after they chose to trust you. They appeared to be able to tell how genuine and how much you appeared to want to help. So, they listened to what you said and began to do more patrolling. Some even questioned other students in case they had seen anything suspicious (which, they had it just didn’t happen to be the kind of suspicious you were all currently researching).

Buffy and her group of friends were guarded around you with their thoughts which you were used to, people really didn’t like their thoughts being shared. But at the same time, you could hear that they thought you were pretty cool which was really a big compliment.

You were all searching for this demon on the school campus, it had been a week by this point and you and Wesley kept being paired up by Giles. Whether that look you gave him had inspired him to be a match-maker or he was truly oblivious and just wanted the two of you far away from him you didn’t know. Either way, you had quickly been adopted into the little team.

Wesley was bashful and often began tripping over his words to talk about anything that you appeared to take an interest in. He began to warm to you once he realised you had just been trying to keep your job and not trying to ruin his career as a watcher (and fake librarian).

You kept listening intently as you and him did your usual loop around the school, having to hope everyone in the school could forgive you listening to every single thought in search of the person you had heard that day. You were sieving through every thought anyone had ever had and it was getting tiring. Exhausting, even. Your head was so full it began to spin almost violently. A merry-go-round you could never get off, it kept going faster the more you listened.

While you were listening one day in the library, Wesley, who you had been distracted by and had been watching from the other side of the room had moved to stand beside you. You hadn’t noticed him, much less that he was speaking until your legs gave way from under you. You started to collapse to the ground until his arms reached to catch you. It was instinct, he gripped you tight preventing you from falling. He allowed you to shift some of your weight onto him as you walked towards a chair. He turned away to make you a cup of your beverage of choice to relax you.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Wesley said softly as he sat beside you. His demeanour so different from how he had been even a week ago. You had become fond of him much before this, but he was just beginning to warm to you. To understand you had only been doing your job, helping his when you could. You had been leaving notes of thoughts you had overheard on Wesley and Giles’ desks ever since you realised what was going on with the school and the Hellmouth.

“If I got a penny for every thought I heard… I would be rich” You smiled, but you appeared washed out and weakened as you tried to raise yourself from your seat. This was a mistake, you began to go dizzy and tried to still yourself, raising your hand to your head. Without you noticing (or, admittedly himself until it happened) his hand rested on the back of yours. Your stomach flipped, an elation rising inside at the mere whisper of his touch.

He leaned in closer, his face now level with yours. The proximity sent shivers through your body. You closed your eyes, focusing only on his touch. No thoughts, not even your own should interrupt this. It was promise. Of care, of some deep down need to comfort you. No matter if his intentions were romantic or otherwise, just knowing he cared meant something. It was enough to keep you happy. You wanted to stay in this moment, where his touch was yours.

But, of course this was Sunnydale. Wesley had appeared to help you clear your mind. Enough to hear something.

Kill… Eat… Kill… Eat again

“No!” You shouted, a completely different style of shivers now went up your spine. You were horrified at the images you were starting to see. The thoughts were getting stronger which meant… they were getting closer. If only you could make out exactly where.

“Y/n, I apologise. I should n-not have thought to-”

“Wesley, no, that was- well, it-” You paused and sighed. This was a conversation for another time. You just wanted to tell him how much the tenderness of his touch meant, but it really wasn’t the right moment, “Demon. I heard the demon! I think it’s in the basement” You rushed out, gesturing for him to follow you.

How is that possible? We checked at least a dozen times.

It could have been hiding or somewhere else – it could have even been invisible. I just know where it is now.

You nodded, thinking this was the only reply you had given him. He blinked not once but twice. He was surprised to say the least. You had communicated to him without speaking. You were fascinating to him. He looked at your lips before scanning the rest of your face as he thought how much he wished that he could…

No. Better not think on this now. His mind may run wild and the last thing he needed was you catching this particular train of thought.

You stepped gingerly into the dark basement, the light was very dim but you were both able to just about get your bearings. You could hear the thoughts again, louder and louder as you approached. All this guy seemed to do was think about killing and eating.

Talk about one track mind.

Wesley made a noise that sounded like a laugh. You didn’t realise that it was in reaction to your own thoughts. But any remnants of a smile was wiped off his face when he saw the scene before him.

There was a pit of what appeared to be lava with a green coloured demon hanging precariously above it. In the corner of the room, a man that looked human apart from the sizeable canines and horns protruding from his face.

Without thinking and notedly before the demon in the corner of the room had spotted you, you started to pull at the rope that the green demon was suspended from. Wesley, although the frown on his face read as a reluctance to assist what would usually be seen as the enemy, came and helped you anyway. Especially when he saw how affected you clearly were by what you could hear of the demon’s thoughts.

You managed to untie the rope that was fixed in place to keep the demon suspended just as the man who intended to dine on them began to run at you. This made your hand slip, letting go of the rope and making the green-hued figure drop into the pit with a scream.

As Wesley moved to protect you, using the skills he could remember through the fog of fear he was experiencing you ran to the pit. You gasped, pleased to see the four hands were clinging onto the crumbling side of the pit. The demon hadn’t fallen into the pit yet – you still had time to help.

“Take my hand!” You shouted over the noise, opening your palm for the green demon to take. You could hear the demon’s desperation, their thoughts that it was the end. You couldn’t bear it. You had to help them.

“Go” Wesley shouted to the green demon as you both helped them up from the pit. The demon whose thoughts brought you into the basement became even more mad at this and began to attack you fiercely.

You managed to keep the demon at bay until reinforcements arrived. Buffy and Angel soon ran into the basement and held off the demon from snapping off your limb and eating it like a chicken leg. You did all you could to assist with the fight and shouted out the demon’s intended movements out to give the others the upper hand.

Wesley walked you home that evening, after Willow spoke an incantation to close up the lava pit and make it very hard to enter the basement (the last thing you needed was anyone else setting up (evil) shop down there).

You continued to be a big part of the group as the months went on. You would spent a lot of your time researching and learning all you could from demons and the students to help Buffy fight. You didn’t have the heart to tell the others that they weren’t fooling anyone – most people had at least some idea there was something special about her and her super-strength.

As you did your bit to save the world, your mind was never far from him. You had grown close, savouring every detail you learned about him. You knew that through the sometimes clumsy and ‘proper’ exterior, there was a kind and well-intentioned heart. He wished to open up to you, but his upbringing made it hard for him to grow out of the need to hide his emotions and feelings.

He caught your eye during a meeting and you couldn’t stop your own thoughts from flowing.

I love him. Wow, is this what being in love feels like? I can’t stop thinking about him…

He smiled wider as you thought this which made you want to hold him into you even more. Everything about him, from his need to stick to what he had been taught to the letter to the deeply sensitive and caring parts of him he revealed with out even meaning to and everything in between.

He was soon the reason you arrived at work with a smile on your face. Just to catch a glimpse of him or hear something from him. It meant everything.

Graduation day came and so did the battle against the Mayor and his ascension. As rubble, dust and demons lay defeated around you, he made his way straight towards you. Ensuring that you were safe. That you hadn’t been hurt.

“I think I’m out of a job” You joked, still catching your breath after the fight. But this was a futile task as Wesley rested his hand against the base of your skull and pulled you towards him, crashing your lips with his. 

His lips glided over yours, a subtle urgency igniting your continued passion for him. You grasped at the shirt that had been ripped in the fight, feeling the warmth of his skin as you kissed him with all the feeling within. He pulled you nearer still, no matter how close you were to him would never be enough.

This fight had put everything into perspective. He needed you, he loved you just as he was sure you felt the same. He couldn’t hide away from revealing the deepest parts of himself from you anymore. He had only kept it because he was sure that his mind was deceiving him. You couldn’t possibly feel those things for him. Those things he had dreamed and hoped and wished that you would say. It had appeared too good to be true.

“My entire life I have found myself having to prove myself, to work to be accepted. When I met you, without realising until much after, my heart started beating again. I began to live because you made me feel like I matter. That I could make a real difference.”

“Wes, you make a difference everyday…”

“Well, before I met you it appears that I had been living my life wrong”

What does this mean?

“It means that, uh, I was miserable. You showed me a joy to life that I had not even considered” He replied before continuing to explain how much you meant to him, “You do the right thing, the decent thing, no matter if it is written in the watchers handbook or otherwise. To assist even a demon in their hour of need, I am in awe of you. Truly”

You smiled, leaning in to press your lips against his again, ready to tell him exactly how you felt about him. You couldn’t hide this feeling you held, your soft adoration enveloping him in the best way.

As you leaned against him, you realised something – he had just answered your thought. He knew everything, had heard every adoring thought fact that he had been too polite to reveal to you until recently. He had been able to read your thoughts.

You had been so wrapped up in your feelings in a way you never had before, your feelings for him were just so strong, that you had managed to broadcast your own consciousness into his mind. Only such strong and true feelings could do this, you were sure of it. He confirmed this to you later when he revealed he had done extensive research on it.

The soft aroma of love now surrounded you, it smelled of him. Cologne and old books. This smell surrounded the area, which thankfully masked the smell of dead demon in the air. You walked away from the battle, victorious, now in more ways than one. You felt as if you were on top of the world, invincible by his side.

With his confession and your minds entwined with the deepest sentiments of love, you didn’t think twice when he asked you to leave Sunnydale with him. You would embark on a trip spanning several states, the two of you fighting evil and helping others. You grew closer, adoring every inch of the other and finally made your home, at least for a while, in Los Angeles.

[urwendii]

Oh I'm adding to this because I went through this a few months back.

After knowing rather good engagement on my first fics, I was hit by a sudden drop for the Sequel and all others recent works.

And i kept comparing myself to the other works in the fandom and mostly some fics i really liked who still showed strong engagement by the fandom, while my kudos had plateaued and i was getting comments by 2 or 3 people max. If any.

It hurt a lot and it brought a lot of jealously and envy bc damn it I was there too and it seemed the fandom were now only focusing on these 5 or 6 authors.

I took down my fic in the end, then another and another and in the end, it killed all joy to write about that specific ship. All in all, it poisoned a lot of my happiness in the fandom in general.

It's a complicated situation when you are part of a fandom that is proficient in writing fanfics, and is also subjected to the short attention span of some casual watchers. Aka my first fics were written a couple months after the show and therefore enjoyed more exposure (even if I never managed to hit the popular threshold I was nonetheless extremely happy with the response.) So it becomes hard when half of the readers move on, I was struggling with writing in general and then posted a couple of chapters that got no immediate attention.

It's heartbreaking and as I said I was in direct view of the fact it was not the case for others. Fandoms are like that. It's a brutal reminder that it's all about finding a community you can exchange motivation with, uplifting you.

Sadly for me in that particular fandom I never got that. (I will now confess that A lot of this is also self perception and RSD. I did interact with a few persons, but I never was part of the big communities that flourished and therefore remained apart.)

Looking back, I should have done things differently, I should not have looked up that much to others that are more successful/popular because it's the only road to self disappointment where you forget about your own accomplishment.

Write for yourself they say. OK so I do that now. I am completely rewriting the fic I deleted and will not post it until I am sure I am ready to deal with whatever the answer is going to be.

Comparing yourself with others is natural there's no shame in that. But it should not come at the cost of your self love and confidence. And definitely not let it poison your interest for the topic you used to write.

It came to the point (and I have never said it to anyone before) where I was getting panic attacks just thinking of opening ao3, seeing others chapters getting more kudos, seeing people who used to interact on my fics commenting on others but not mine. I cried more than once. I hated half the fandom. I hit rock bottom.

It's a hard battle. And I think some of us are less equipped to deal with that than others.

That was barely two months ago.

Now I have found my little corner, with a small rarepair and a small handful of people who enjoy it as well. One day I might come back to the big ocean but for now I'm happy to be back swimming in a pond.

My only advice to this is such: if you're feeling wronged or you think it's unfair your fic is not getting recognition. It's NORMAL. you created something and you are in the rights to expect a response.

BUT. If it becomes something that impact your creativity or life in general then it is time to take a step back. Allow yourself this. Its self care. Don't do like me and try and try until it all falls apart and you end up having to move on from something that brought you a lot of joy last year because the mere thought of facing self perceived failure/embarrassment gives you anxiety.

Take a step back. Allow yourself one day to be angry/sad/ashamed. It's healthy. But the next day? You take a deep breath, go outside a bit, hug a tree then refocus on the joy of creating for yourself. It's not easy. It's darn hard. I know. But it's worth doing this.

One last thing, i am fairly competitive so online creations are already a double edged sword for me. And along the way I think I got used to having attention and took for granted the ones I always had by my side.

And to echo OP, now I have relearn this and I am so grateful for my best friend who is always supporting and reading me (despite not even being in the fandom. Seriously Aryn, real MVP ❤️) and I have a couple of other friends with who I love sharing silly niche headcanons.

Having a rarepair reset your need for online clout.

Now I'm happier. Far happier. Actually, I felt blown away that 5 whole people left kudos on a fic that was the 1st of its ao3 tag.

I don't really have a miracle solution. I think in the end, when things get bad for you (aka negative emotions toward your published writing) the only answer is this one:

Sadly you can't force people to care and pay attention to you. Life is unfair. Your work is as good as the ones getting popularity. Find a handful of people who will support you (perhaps offline even - not necessarily irl but friends outside your fandom?), relearn to find joy in little things and don't underestimate the benefit of going offline for a while.

any advice about how to deal with posting a fic and getting radio silence? I know ppl aren’t owed engagement ofc, but I feel embarrassed at having spent so long on something no one cares about, and although I liked thinking about the characters and fandom before (and was considering writing more about them), now I can’t think about it without feeling that overpowering embarrassment 😭 part of me wants to delete the fic, but that would mean having to open ao3 and look at it again LMAO

sorry for the venting, I know this is probably a me problem, but has anyone else felt this, and if so, is there any way to make this pervasive shame go away??

*hugs* This is a very painful thing to experience and there isn't really any way to make it just go away, unfortunately. However, you can reflect on it a bit, when you're ready to.

Writing and posting are separate activities. If you've enjoyed writing the story but you haven't enjoyed posting it to the Archive, you can always continue writing just for yourself. This may or may not be something you'd enjoy - you know better than I do whether some of your enjoyment came from the anticipation of a reaction to your work.

Try to analyze where your embarrassment is coming from. Is it worrying that your story was poorly written? A lack of a reaction doesn't mean that the story is bad. Being unpopular doesn't mean it's bad, either. If your story is good to you, then it's a good story.

Is your embarrassment from feeling like you were "caught trying." Is it a cringe at the idea that you put effort into something that someone else doesn't (appear to) find valuable?

Is it actually embarrassment at all? Are you feeling a different kind of hurt instead? Did you hope that someone in particular would read your story and now you feel ignored? Did you hope to be embraced by your community and now you feel shunned?

These are difficult questions that I'm asking and you might not want to think about them right now. That's okay. You don't need to if you don't want to. You can definitely delete the fic and pretend it never happened. Or you can log out of that AO3 account and create a new one and never look back. Maybe you just need to take a week or a month off for a hiatus of sorts and when the ache isn't as bad, you'll be able to face it all again.

When I felt this way, it was because I felt like I'd put something into my community and that I'd been ignored. But since that time, I've found one person who gives me all of the community support I used to get from an entire fandom, and now when I post something on AO3 I don't actually need a response anymore. I get all of the fun and excitement and validation etc from my conversations and RP threads with my best friend.

Once you've got a little distance from the pain of this moment, try to figure out what it is that you were hoping to get and then figure out how you can get it. Maybe it's through posting fic to AO3, but maybe it's not.

Let's see what others can suggest. This is not something you're experiencing alone, anon. So very many of your fellow fan writers have experienced this too ❤️

[lacrimaomnis]

BRF Reading, 15/7/2021 (Part One)

Background: The ask I received from an anon earlier today made me wonder about something -- but for that, I have to indulge in a little bit of a ramble here.

If you have read my about page here, you will know that I have been an on and off royal watcher for some time. I know about Harry and Meghan's wedding, and while there was something I couldn't put my fingers on back then, I definitely did not lean towards warming up to her, which was normal for me. Catherine got married when I was too young to understand and to have a care for the world, and so, when I started royal-watching, I did not warm up to Catherine quickly either. But if there is anything I know, even if I did not warm up to Catherine sooner, is that Catherine and Wiliam married for love. I believe that much.

Now, Harry and Meghan, on the other hand, feels...I don't know how to say it, but it feels like there were tied hands back then when they married. So I have two questions, which I will read in two days. I planned to read twice in one day, but I am just too tired and sleepy. Part Two will be tomorrow.

As written, this is merely a speculation and therefore must be taken with a grain of salt. This speculation is not true until proven otherwise.

My question today is, why did Harry decide to marry Meghan?

Cards drawn: Knight of Cups, Eight of Wands, Ten of Wands, Eight of Pentacles, Four of Wands, Nine of Cups, Four of Cups.

Remarks/Comments: I was honestly expecting at least one or two major arcana cards to come up to give me some clarity about the situation, but I am surprised to see that none of the major arcana pops up. Not to say that a spread consisting purely of minor arcana cards is less clear compared to a spread with major arcana, but I was hoping there was a definite something I can look at to determine the main energy in this reading.

Summary: This spread consists of seven cards. Three of the cards are Cups and another three are Wands, which means that two suits make up for the majority of cards, which could mean that this marriage was based on feelings (Cups) and was thought of as a solution to a problem (Wands).

First card: Knight of Cups. This is a court card, and therefore, it stands for a person in my question -- which is Harry. This card speaks about making decisions based on emotions rather than thinking calmly to reach a decision; which did tell me that Harry decided to get married solely based on his emotions, and he did make this decision when he was blinded by his emotions rather than reason.

This card also speaks about loving someone for the sake of love itself, speaking about someone who shares that love freely. This does tell me that yes, Harry married Meghan out of love. I was surprised because I was sure that Meghan subtly manipulated Harry to marry her, especially with rumours of the secret marriage and yadda yadda, hence that "hands tied" feeling I mentioned earlier in this post. This card does tell me that Harry truly loved Meghan, loved her enough to marry her. They did say love makes you blind, and I do think this is perhaps what happened to Harry.

Second card: Eight of Wands. This card speaks about delays, frustration, fast-paced change, and action. Looking at this card, I remembered how Harry was not exactly successful with his earlier relationships. He broke up with Miss Chelsy Davy due to "rising incompatibility of their life choices", he broke up with the now Mrs Wentworth-Stanley, Cressida Bonas -- if tabloids were to be trusted, Harry even planned to marry her -- and it fell through. This did tell me that not only Harry loved Meghan enough to marry her, but he also did not want the Eight of Wands to happen again to him and his relationship with Meghan.

Third card: Ten of Wands. Now, this is another interesting card. For some reason, in two separate days, in two readings concerning Harry or Meghan, this card likes to show itself. Harry was burdened by something that he decided to get married and it wasn't that long in the past either, like the Eight of Wands. But the cards did show me he loved her, that Knight of Cups is just staring at me with his wide eyes, and his heart pouring out...then why was he burdened? Wasn't marrying someone you love a celebration, not a burden? Why would marrying someone you love become a burden? I love my partner with all my heart, and I would never consider marrying him a burden. In fact, I am (with that childish excitement) looking forward to the day he offers the ring. Then why? Why did this card come up?

Fourth card: Eight of Pentacles. The only card representing anything material wealth related, and the card itself doesn't even speak about anything materialistic. This card speaks about apprenticeship, repetitive tasks, self-development, and misdirected activity. In a broader sense, this card speaks about working away at the finer details of your life to improve your situation. Did Harry think marrying Meghan would improve his situation? In my humble opinion, marriage is not merely one finer detail of life, it is a huge part of someone's life. What would be improved in Harry's life when he married Meghan? Is there any? Or did Harry think so? There's a big difference between doing something that one thinks would improve a situation and doing something that actually improves a situation, just like how there is a big discrepancy between how we perceive a situation to be and the actual situation. I think Harry's decision to marry Meghan was in the former category.

Fifth card: Four of Wands. This card is closely associated with the elements of home: the people who make a home safe, people who support you, the familiarity, everything that makes a house a home. Now, the position of this card in this spread suggests these "elements" that make a home had an influence on Harry's decision to marry Meghan. The only thing I can think about is the rumours where members of the royal family (particularly William) warned Harry against rushing into marriage.

Looking at its pair, the Eight of Pentacles, this card did give me some idea that Harry might think that his situation at home, at least from his point of view, might be able to be improved if he married Meghan. This would once again beg the question of what, why, and how? How would marrying Meghan improve his situation? Why did he have to get married to improve his situation? What was the situation that he had to get married to improve it? This pair of cards leave me with more questions than answers.

Sixth card: Nine of Cups. This is the pair of the Ten of Wands. This card is usually about contentment and satisfaction, but could also speak about dissatisfaction and materialism. This card tells me that the burden (Ten of Wands) Harry felt was dissatisfaction with his family (Four of Wands). He was not satisfied with something that he decided to marry Meghan, believing that Meghan might be able to satisfy him in that particular aspect of his life. I am not inclined to believe Harry decided to marry Meghan because of money (in fact, I believe the opposite applies), so I'd stick with the dissatisfaction interpretation.

This card also reminds me of the so-called one-sided rivalry between William and Harry, and one of my thoughts I've written here. I must underline that these are solely Harry's thoughts and feelings, which would fall in line with what we've seen from him: a whiny, sulky adult man who feels that everyone has to bow at him because he was the son of a mother who was tragically killed in a car crash.

Seventh card: Four of Cups. This card talks about apathy, contemplation, retreat, and withdrawal. As the result of his decision to marry Meghan, Harry has shown that he was capable of being completely apathetic to all the sadness he has inflicted on his family because of all their lies as long as they get their way. He also leaves his family to follow Meghan, the family that provided him with comfort and stability for all his life.

Conclusion: As much as how we'd like to believe otherwise, this reading tells me that Harry perhaps did love Meghan. Perhaps he did love her enough that he decided to marry her, but that decision wasn't made based on reason. He was blinded by his own emotions. He also thought marrying Meghan would improve the situation at home, perhaps he was thinking that marrying Meghan would improve his standing somewhat, which, well, frankly, does not make sense. What kind of standing did he hope? Did he hope to have some sort of social standing in Hollywood?

[enigma-im]

A Kiss To Build a Dream On

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Monster Boss x F!Worker Warnings: Blood mention, Violence, fluff, confusion of intention, gang boss, ladies go crazy for a sharp dressed man, cursing, sex, teleporting to avoid explaining

word Count: 7885

Tender isn’t a word anyone would use to describe the boss, but for her he can’t be anything but.

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

I roughly slam the door, grumbling to myself as I stomp towards the backrooms of the office. My fists stay firmly clenched at my sides as fire burns from within my chest. The bruises ache along my face, my cheek and eye throbbing with every beat of my heart. I shoulder check workers at I storm to my bunk at the end of the hall, not even bothering to deal with anyone's teasing today.

The door is in sight, the sweet relief of solitude isn’t enough to stifle the anger. Knowing I'm going in there to lick my wounds like some child or weakling. When I reach the peaceful silence of my own room I begin angrily wrestling off my clothes, tossing the lightly blood-splattered garments to the corner. Grabbing some clothes off the floor I march into the bathroom. Throwing on some baggy pants and a tank top, I look in the mirror.

For the first time this day, my anger steps aside. The sight of my swelling eye and split cheek is shocking. I've been hit before, it's not really new, but it's never been so startling. My cheek wound has bled enough to dribble down to my collar. The line of blood ends where my shirt was, no doubt the clothing is sporting a lovely red spot. I guess that's what happens when someone plays cheap with a jewelry covered punch. The rage boils once more till I spit in the sink.

I can't bring myself to look any longer. Rushing out into the main room I grumble once more. A tantrum in the making, I throw my fists around, I bare my teeth towards the floor, I kick at anything decorating the ground. Clothes get pushed around the room, thunking against the wall. A suitcase gets launched under the bed and a wall is hit for good measures.

As I seethe to myself I catch movement out the corner of my eye. I go stalk still, turning slowly to the poor soul who decided it would be a good time to check-in. A well dress man is inspecting a wrecked shirt, the same shirt I wore minutes before. He admires the bloodstain near the neckline, thumbing the spot with a lax face.

"Sir," I play my best pleasant voice," now is not a good time." it all comes out terse and strained but it's the best I can do. Boss hums, still looking at my shirt. It takes a few seconds before he bothers looking my way. His dark complexation almost shadows the flex of his brow when he catches sight of my beaten self. His quickly flexing jaw is just barely noticeable in the darkness of the corner.

"So it would seem," he answers smoothly. He tosses the shirt to the side without care, adjusting his hat before he steps further into the room. His intrusion is unwelcome, to say the least, and him stepping closer boils my blood even more.

"Sir," I growl," It's really not a good time." typical boss continues to ignore me, succeeding like he always does when we talk in making me grind my teeth to dust. He hums in answer again, walking till he is a few feet in front of me. His hands are clasped behind his back, his brow low as he regards me.

"I will ask this once," he starts," what happened?"

I sneer, immediately answering," Nothing, everything is fine." he responds with a tilt of his head, watching me with an almost amused look. We stare each other down, stubbornness helping me with this battle. The boss has a tendency in sticking his nose in other people's business. Which is fine for everyone else, a good trait to have a boss who takes care of his people, but it’s not fine for me. I don't want his constant attention, sticking around to rub my nose in it. He never has to say anything, his judging look is enough to knock me down a peg.

As I stew in my thoughts he reaches out and grabs my jaw. His fingers dig into my skin, demanding absolute cooperation. I know better than to move, stiffening as I fight the urge to jerk away from his scrutiny. He leans down close, looking over the cuts, tilting my head this way and that.

"Rings or knuckles," he asks casually.

My jaw pops," Rings."

He hums," Howley boys or street wolves?"

I scoff," pixie chicks." he nods, dropping my jaw in favor of using his phone. The device appears in a blink, acting like it was always there. He clicks away at the phone lazily for a short moment before poofing it away as quickly as it appeared. Without a word, he grabs my shoulder and walks me into the bathroom. Too curious, I let him guide me to sit on the toilet. I sit and watch him work near the sink, opening the medicine cabinet.

"What are you doing," I ask, tilting forward to get a better look. Before I can get a look around the mirror he shuts it.

"You have no bandages," he scoffs. The tone sounds scolding like I'm some child being talked down by a parent. I quickly catch on to what's happening, I don't much care for it.

I stand," no, get out. I'd like to be alone now to tend to my ego and I don't need you here to yell about how dumb I am." before I could walk around him towards the beds he grabs me once more and twists me back to the bathroom.

"No, sit," he shoves me towards the toilet," I am tending to you now." my anger rolls in again like the second coming of a storm. I don't need his pity or favor, I can take care of myself.

"What does it matter? It's not like you care," I pout, stewing in rumbling fury. I don't bother to stand again, knowing his great power that rivals many. He is a supervillain in his own right, a blight on society but a hero to some. I can't see him as a bad person but I know the lengths he has gone to to be where he is. You gotta crack a few eggs, you know?

I don't notice him staring down at me, too busy glaring at the wall to notice. It's not till he grabs my jaw again do I bother to pay him any mind. When our eyes meet I am startled by his depth. His face demands attention at this moment, locking me in his stare. My feelings dissipate till only alarm is left. Reprimand feels like my likely outcome. No one talks to the boss this way. He is known for his kindness as well as his ire and ire is the side I'm most likely to meet.

The boss watches me, his eyes darting between my own as his jaw clicks. I can't lie and say I'm not worried at this moment, because I am. You never know what little things will set someone off, just like I don't know what level of pain I will be receiving. Perhaps a good talking to about respect, he likes to go on and on about that. Maybe an addition to my weekly chores, that's a fair punishment. I can't think straight with his breath ghosting over my face.

It's when I'm at my wit's end does he move, pulling my face towards his. He gently presses his lips to mine, closing his eyes as he does. I stare blankly at him, stock still under his soft lips. He doesn't pry for more, leaning back shortly after in favor of looking at me. I still look straight, startled by the outcome I could have never expected. He chuckles, smiling as he shakes his head. At the cute sound, I look to him, trying my best to gauge the situation better.

"wha-," he shuts my mouth before I can ask.

"You are to remain silent while I tend to you," he states firmly. I simply nod, still too shocked to really have the energy to do anything but listen. He watches me a moment more before standing and fiddling with the sink.

The boss does as he says, tending to my wounds like a close friend. He is delicate in his touches, warning me before any intentional pain. It's weird, no other way to say it. I have no idea what's happening besides the obvious. He is cleaning up my busted face, but I don't know why.

Once he is satisfied with his chore he straightens up and walks me out of the bathroom. I stop in the middle of the room, looking up to him for guidance. He quirks a brow, just barely smiling to himself.

"If I knew a silly little kiss would stifle your anger I would have done it sooner," he chuckles. I fluster at the comment, looking away for the first time since the kiss. As I chew on my cheek, trying to sort through the tangle of thoughts and feelings, he turns me towards him. His hold is sweet, gentle, unlike before. He pets at my cheek, lightly grazing the cut with his thumb. Before I can react he is gone.

I stare dumbfounded into the room, confused above anything else. I try to sort through the event, trying to find the angle he is working. So many things go through my head till absolutely nothing makes sense.

Though one thing is for sure. This warm feeling in my chest won't go away.

The boss doesn't act differently when I see him around the facility. He is his prim and proper self, still bullying the underlings into working to their best and intimidating visitors. Though its been mere days, I feel like more is to be expected. With every passing minute, hour, day, I expect something to happen. As time goes on the feeling grows till every sighting of him makes me tense with expectation. Was this his plan? To make me tense at every turn till I'm forced to confront him less I go crazy? Or was it to keep me on my toes, perhaps I've been too lax around here and he knows the best way to keep me stressed.

Either way, it's working.

I work the cameras one night, lounging in an old rickety chair as I watch the cameras around the building. This chore is the simplest but the most tedious. No one wants watcher duty, it's an all-night endeavor. Nothing happens and god forbid you get caught slacking off when higher-ups walk by. The punishments are easily dished out around here. So staying alert and awake is for the best.

As the night goes on I can feel myself falling off, drifting in and out of rest. It gets so bad that I fall asleep dreaming I'm still working. I try to pinch myself awake, walk around a bit, but nothing works. I damn near fall off my seat when a loud clinking noise wakes me. As I startle the seat tries to roll too far back but is stopped by a sturdy hand. I snap my head up and around, disoriented above anything else. Looking to my right my eyes immediately meet all too familiar ones.

"I wasn't sleeping," I quickly shout at the boss," I was watching the cameras." I stare wide-eyed at him, hearting pumping quickly from the startling wake-up.

The boss snorts," I'm sure you were."

"yes, I was," I clear my throat," what are you doing down here?" he watches me a moment longer, his arm still clasping the back of my chair. With an amused huff, he grabs something off the table, hiding it in his fist. He holds it over my lap, waiting on me. I reach out, curious, palm awaiting.

"a gift," he answers as he drops shiny pieces into my hand. Three rings lay in my palm, all gold with obnoxiously large gems in the middle. I look at them confused, lifting one to investigate.

"what are," I look up towards the boss, the words dying off my lip. He is gone. Looking around the room for another second before I look down at the rings. The single one I'm holding looks well worn, some of the metal corroding away. The gem is annoyingly bright green with dirty specks. On closer look, I can see dried blood in the corners and grooves. The ring actually looks familiar, looking at it makes my cheek ache.

What is the boss doing with the pixie chick's ring?

I want to corner him, question his intentions with bringing the 'gifts'. It's unheard of for the boss to take souvenirs, he isn't a bragging kind of man. It's also strange for him to bring them to someone as a present. The message is clear, he hurt them for me. A man like him doesn't just give out something like this without earning it to begin with. He got those rings not with theft but other illegal means. I understand that much, what I don't get is why.

I try to hunt him down but he is always around the corner before I can get to him. Each time I swear I can see a little smile, teasing me with this weird little game of chase. Every night I go to bed without answers is like losing a battle I never wanted to have.

It's one night that the unanswered questions pick at me till my last strand of patience is frayed. I storm out of bed, throwing on a hoodie before I enter the public spaces of the compound. This late I have a guess where the boss is residing, well two guesses.

I try his quarters first, knocking first as I don't have a death wish. With no answer, I don't try to push my luck and head to his office. When I round the private hallway I see the light on, coming out from under the farthest door. I pull some last-second courage and storm down. I grab the handle and with a last confident breath, I open.

The scene before me freezes as all details sort in my brain. Two people in the room, one is obvious, the boss. The other is a worn man, bruised and beaten in a chair. I can't look away from the man as a strange fog covers his neck. A nasty gash in the center of the fog's attention, seeming to pour into the wound. The gash looks to be pulled in every direction, blood drenching the man's shirt. I know if his mouth wasn't gagged he would be screaming loud enough for the entire building to hear.

"What do you need," The boss steals my attention. I look from the tied-up man to the annoyance of the week. He doesn't look angry like I would assume, having heard horrid tales of others falling into this same mistake. I don't trust the casualness of him cleaning his hands with a dirty towel.

"Sorry, sir," I bow my head," I will meet with you when you aren't entertaining company." I offer the joke in hopes of lessening the ire he may release later. The boss snorts with a smile, shaking his head as he tosses the towel aside. Not waiting for an answer I slide back into the hall, closing the door quietly behind me.

Well, that went well enough.

In the morning I force myself to submit to this strangeness that has corrupted the boss and I's interactions. I've known of the man since I was in my mid-teens, I've worked for him since my early 20s. There is no way I truly know how the man acts in his day to day life. I know he is an ornery kind of man, though a little mischievous, and that’s the most I know of him. Perhaps this is normal. It's best not to harp on these things that are out of my control.

It takes a considerable amount of effort to ignore his presence in any room I enter. The cat and mouse game seems to have switched with me running from him. I feel like a coward, though it is a reasonable choice to just drop it. I never run from anyone, least of all some cocky villain type.

I go about my nightly routine in the bathroom, spitting into the sink before suckling water from my palm. Walking into the main room I pause looking at the well-dressed man in my room.

"Evening, sir," I say confused. At my introduction, he turns, keeping his arms clasped behind his back. He regards me with a small smirk, mostly keeping his feelings to himself.

"You wished to speak with me," he shrugs," here I am."

I nod," yea, it's not too important now, I sorted it out myself." it’s a lie, I have nothing figured out. His instances of manipulation have named him as conniving. I don't want to be the centerpiece in such affairs.

"hm," he clicks his tongue," shame. Leaving me so curious now, how could I depart with such a tempting question resting on the edge of my mind." his smirk forms into a Cheshire grin that brings thoughts into focus. It seems I've already captured his attention, perhaps have had it all along.

"No, no, it's not anything you would need to bother with," I try to wave him off. He doesn't budge, instead, taking a few steps closer. I step equally back. He huffs in amusement, pushing onward till I'm forced to stop against a bed. He crowds me, yet keeping a platonic distance.

"I'm insulted you assume that any of your worries would be below my standings, I wish to make your life easier whenever I can," he purrs, breaking the platonic distance," Did you like your gift?" my body tenses in alarm, feelings waring as I try to remain passive.

"T-the rings," I ask.

He nods," I don't think the Pixie Chicks will be missing them, they offered them so freely." I wish to scoff at him, nearly amused at his suggestion that they would offer him anything such as their jewelry.

"They didn't seem willing to part with them before," I somehow manage to tease back. His smile grows, tilting his head as he regards me.

"Not at first," he leans toward my cheek," but after a short visit they were more than willing."

I get fuzzy the closer he gets, feeling his hot breath brush over my face. It's hard to decide the right course of action. Push him away and deal with whatever reaction he deems appropriate, or let him be and see where this is going. The second choice is hard, his nearness muddles my ideas and actions. How could I be swayed by some man nearing my personal space? His kiss beforehand was quick and unintimidating, there was no build-up. Now it feels like an anvil swaying precariously on a snapping rope.

"Why are you here," I find myself asking. I fight the urge to raise my hand to his chest and push him away, not truly knowing if I would push him away. He leans in closer, crowding me nearly on the bed. I fall back onto a hand, holding myself propped up less I wish to lay on the sheets. His grin stretches wider.

"Well, you asked for me," he answers in a deep rumble. The change in tone is startling, fogging my brain more. It's hard to think, nothing is connecting in my brain. I want to push him, but I can't. I want to crawl away, but I can't. I want to pull him closer, but…

"I mean," I swallow," what are you doing in my room?"

"because you feel safest here," he answers.

"Why should it matter if I feel safe," I watch him. He straightens slightly, looking down at me with a lax stare.

"You ask too many questions," he mumbles before pushing forward and kissing me. I gasp, falling back onto both hands. The kiss breaks for just a moment before he is falling onto his hands, framing me as he crowds me on the bed. I'm not sure what to do now, having little to no experience in this. I'm not flirty or sexy, I can't bother with things such as making out or relationships. Though now I wish I knew just a little bit.

The boss grabs me by the hips and shifts me up the bed, crawling over me as I fall to my back. He straddles a thigh, his hands coming up to frame my head. I watch him stare down at me, his mouth lightly parts with a dazed look. Before I can bother with words he takes my lips for his once more. It's surprisingly passionate, to that I'm stunned. I expected demanding from a man like him, not affectionate. I timidly return the kiss, not knowing what to do but knowing I want to do it. Before I can get into it he lifts away, though not far.

He watches me a moment, gauging my reaction. His eyes are squinted, seeming to wait for a response, a response I don't provide. I look up at him, nearly panting in this strange rush of emotions and touch.

"What are you feeling," he asks skeptically.

I lick my lips," flustered." he hums, still trying to piece together something.

"flustered is good," he nods to himself, falling back to my mouth. I startle once more, still utterly confused at the turn of the night. Yet, I can't make myself stop it. I reach up and fist his tailored jacket, not knowing if I should tug him closer. The need to touch him is strong but the anxiety of everything else lingers.

The boss stuns me more as he grabs my hand holding his clothes and slings it around his shoulder. Quickly I take hold of the shirt from this angle, indirectly pulling him closer. My other hand shyly joins the first, cupping the back of his head in a timid touch.

"Doing good," he purrs, licking at my lips as he slowly settles himself on his forearms. He expertly parts my lips, telling me to let him in. I open, clenching a fistful of hair when he invades my mouth. When I tug on the bit of hair he moans, the sound felt in my mouth, felt on my tongue. The already eager kiss ramps in excitement when his hands start to trail down my body. He simply slides his hands under my shirt, holding my waist with a warm grip. His thumbs pet at my skin but stay otherwise still.

The moment seems to stretch on for hours, my discretions melting away into heart fluttering enjoyment. He doesn't push, keeping the mood just semi-erotic. I appreciate it though I'm utterly confused. What does he think he can gain from this? Surely a man like him doesn't just kiss random staff members without having some secret motive. I'm just a grunt, nothing more and nothing less. I surely hope he doesn't think he could manipulate me into sleeping with him. No, that won't do at all.

"Sir," I mumble against his lips as I try to pull away. He trails after my mouth, only pausing mid-action.

"yes," he asks. I shift back away from him, getting a better look at his closed eyes and wet parted lips.

"We should stop," I fluster. I drop my arms from around him, using them to push myself up and away. He squints his eyes open enough to watch me lounge against the wall, feet still partially under him. Looking between my eyes he sighs, dropping his head shortly after.

"Alright," he huffs," It is late, I will be on my way now." he shifts back onto his knees, rubbing at his face before righting his hat and clothes. Next, he stands up off the bed and passes me a final glance, ready to blink away.

"wait," I surprise myself by saying," can you answer one question?"

He tilts his head," besides that question?"

"yes," I deadpan," besides that one."

He smirks, clasping his hands behind his back," alright, I think I can allow one more question." I want to snort, amused but annoyed by his words. I keep quiet.

"are you," I start, worried to continue," are you going to use me?" I look at every twitch of his face with an eagle-like focus. Every nuance is jotted down as I watch him. He simply smiles, his face projecting amused affection. He then steps forward, leaning over the bed to cup my face.

"No," he answers shortly. He strokes my cheek with his thumb, watching himself do so. With a final sigh, he blinks away, no evidence of him ever being here besides my wet lips and fluttering heart.

"damn," I fall to my side," there goes my night."

The next couple of days are a whirlwind of strange. The game of chase is completely let go in favor of a game of chicken. His attentions have gone from nothing to constant. When we are ever around each other -which is way more common as of late- he attempts to touch me in some way. Though his posture and face stay casual, if not bored, he still cups my hips and trails his fingers over my spine like he is anything but bored.

Some nights he pays a visit, kissing me senseless till he decides I'm thoroughly flustered. He tries to edge me on, even taking to teasing to further some agenda I can't even bother to figure out. Though he said he wouldn't use me I feel like a toy. He comes to me with minimal conversation and shoves his tongue down my throat. The small conversations are filled with double meanings and unsaid words. He is hinting to something and I can't figure out what. I feel like a source of entertainment, picked at till he gains whatever he needed. The stress is getting to me, I've had enough.

I wait patiently in my room, leg bouncing against the bed as I cross my arms. I'm going to confront him tonight, I'm going to get some answers. This little game has to stop less I want my heart to fall victim to some scheming. Time draws on and on till its far pass the time he visits. I reluctantly settle into bed, dread, and stress muddling my brain.

The next night I wait patiently again, knowing he doesn't go for two nights in a row. I wait and wait, looking to the clock more than necessary. It’s when its well past midnight that I call it a night. Dread and stress fade out as worry takes its place.

The day after I set out to catch sight of the boss. I search high and low, keeping to the commons places in hopes of a casual encounter. I see no hide or hair of him. As I march around the facility, doing chores, that I hear about everyone avoiding the boss. It seems the man in charge has had a bit of a temper since this morning, shutting out everyone as he sits in his office.

The idea of visiting his office is appealing, knowing it to be the best time to get answers if he is mad. Anger brings out the truth. Surely I can go visit him and ask a question or two, not risking my life in the process. Though I think lowly of his intention I think he truly has no intention of maiming me.

With that decided I casually head upstairs towards his office. I make it to the familiar hallway, feeling the instinctual dread of being there. No one wants to be in this hallway, knowing who is working just at the end. Though I come here from my own free volition it's still a habit to fear this part of the building.

I walk to the door at the end, already hearing voices halfway down. As I get closer I can hear yelling. I listen intently, hearing stomping footsteps and a thing or two being knocked over. It’s when I hear a loud thud do I pick up the pace. I stop near the door, anxiety drenching my body as curiosity keeps me up. The sound of meaty thumps can be heard before a whimper.

"You are a piece of shit," a quick thunk follows," scum of the fucking earth, and that's something coming from me." I can hear the boss talking- more like yelling- behind the door. It sounds like he is entertaining again.

"boss," someone answers weakly," I'm sorry." a deep clink comes shortly after the man's words.

"Sorry doesn't earn my trust back," the boss snarls," Sorry doesn't fucking get Bradshaw off my fucking back!" the meaty claps come shortly after, repeating in alarming frequency. I step to the door, my body repealing against the idea of opening it and interrupting the important meeting.

I know who the boss is, always have. He does some shady stuff with some shady people, I being one of them. I get what's going on in there, a lesson is being learned. It's something that is understood by all who work here, don't cross the boss. Though it seems the poor idiot in there hasn't learned that though.

I don’t hear anything for a good while. It's to be assumed that business has been taken care of. Either way, I stay put, leaning closer to the door when I hear another softer voice. I try to make out some words, being more nosy this moment than I have my entire life. The softer voice only speaks for a brief moment, followed by the Boss with another set of short words.

As I focus on the door I don't hear steps walking up behind me. Only when someone grabs my shoulders do I jump. I jerk in this person's hold, stiffening as their fingers dig into my skin. I twist to look over at them, seeing a large man with a gruff-looking face. He offers no words, instead, reaching in front of me to grab the door handle.

The gruff man guides me into the room, holding firmly onto my shoulders. I look to the room, immediately finding a man collapsed on the floor covered in swelling bruises and deep cuts. He is mostly unrecognizable, his face beaten to a pulp. If I am to assume correctly, then he is dead.

"Clean this up before he stains the floor," the boss grunts as he wipes his hands with a dirty rag.

The gruff man behind me speaks," and what would you like me to do with her?" as he asks the boss snaps around, meeting my eyes quickly. He looks to me confused, twisting completely around as he drops the rag to the table.

"I'd like you to fucking let her go," the boss growls to the man," I am the only one allowed to deal with her." the clear hostility means nothing to the man behind me. He lets go and casually shuffles to the man on the floor, hefting him over his shoulders with ease. I watch the boss look to the two, following them with his eyes till the door shuts behind me. Once the door clicks does he look to me once again.

"Hello, doll," his ire drops to the familiar ease he adopts when around me. He leans back against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. His barely buttoned shirt wrinkles, his cuffed sleeves looking strange so far up his arms. I've never seen him so underdressed, though most would still consider his outfit formal.

"Hello," I answer guarded. I don't expect a warm welcome like this when I've been caught snooping.

"What brings you to my humble abode," he tilts his head with a small smile. It's strange to see such a night and day to his previous anger. He was screaming and beating a man into the floor. Now he is his typical charming self in a matter of seconds. I don't buy it.

"I haven't seen you in a couple days," I say, crossing my arms in the process. He gives me a once over, his smile peeling further over his cheeks.

"Miss me or something," he teases.

I scoff," or something." he chuckles, walking away from his desk to walk the room.

"Or something," he looks at the messy floor," what would that something be?" I follow him with my eyes as he skirts around me, keeping a distance. I don't bother turning around when he walks behind my back, taking the second to compose my thoughts and feelings. As of late, he has been popular in making my heart flutter like a caged bird.

"You haven't been around," I shrug," I was curious." he scoffs, seeming to understand my roundabout way of saying I've missed him. Which I guess is true, but I'd argue I want answers more than his company. Though both wouldn't be too bad.

He comes into my peripheral," I've been busy, I hope I haven't left you in need of anything in my absents."

"no," I turn away blushing," I haven't been…in need or anything. Just conflicted on some things." he hums, staying just in the corner of my eye. I can feel his eyes wandering over my body, trying to pick at every tick and twitch.

"would your confliction be related to the question you asked me the other night," he asks. I almost turn to him then, wanting to see his face, needing to see his reaction. I don't though, staring at his desk straight ahead.

"Perhaps," I answer. He huffs, his steps coming closer till I feel his heat against my back.

"do you think lowly of me," he says near my ear," do you believe I am truly a villain incapable of pure intent?"

"sometimes," I nearly whisper. I feel his sigh fan over my back. He steps closer, his front nearly touching me.

"Do you truly believe I would betray you," he asks. The question startles me, only for the reason that there is blood staining the floor beside us. "Would you betray me," he whispers against my ear. The threat feels looming as I look to the crime scene. Would I betray him if given the chance, the answer feels almost obvious.

"I don't," I huff," I don't think I could if I tried."

The boss hums approvingly, circling his arms around my hips to pull me flush to his front. His chin rests upon my shoulder, his head leaning against mine. The smell of his cologne is nearly suffocating in its intoxication. I awkwardly grab his arms, resting my hands on him.

"I don't think I could betray you if I tried," he answers similarly," you seem to have grown on me." I squeeze at his arm.

"Honestly," I ask skeptically," you truly mean me no harm, emotional or otherwise?" though he has answered this it still doesn't sit in my head, proof being demanded after every answer.

He turns and presses a shallow kiss to my neck," I could never hurt you, doll, I only wish to adore you." I turn to him, wishing above all else to believe him. He leans ever so close, his tempting kiss just in my reach.

"Prove it," I bait.

"gladly," he answers.

Quickly he has my lips captured, demanding more than ever before. His tongue takes no time delving into my mouth, circling my tongue in a sweet caress. I would have fallen if it weren't for his strong hold on my hips, instead, I keep myself propped up by him. When minimal thought comes back do I twist in his hold and tug him closer by his collar. I need his affection, crave it above all else. Thrusting my tongue into his mouth I take back some control I've lacked in these few days. He startles this time, groaning with a chuckle as I fist his hair.

"doll," he laughs into the kiss," I thought I was proving my affections here."

"then catch up," I tease, taking his mouth for mine once more. He growls, a sound I haven't really heard from him before, and lifts me. I yelp, holding tightly to his shoulders as my pelvis meets his lower stomach. His smile spread across his face as he squeezes my thighs.

"Sorry, doll, but I'm the boss here," he nips at my lips, lapping at them shortly after. His normally sweet kisses are oh so more divine now as fire is brought into the mix. My insides nearly throb with a need I've rarely ever felt before. I want him- oh god do I want him.

As we attack each other I hear a quick whoosh by my ears, my hair quickly flicking in the wind. I open my eyes enough to see out the corners that we aren't in the same room. I dislodge from him, looking around the bedroom we have teleported to.

"your room," I ask, having never been here before.

"Yes," he watches me," Is that a problem?"

I look to him with a cheeky smile," no." I continue where we left off, suckling his tongue. He walks us somewhere, the destination not particularly important in my mind. What feels more important is the insistent throbbing in my crotch. I find myself bucking into him, grinding myself into his firm stomach.

The boss rips his mouth from mine as I fall backward. I clench at his shirt, gasping when something springy shapes to my back. I drop my hands back, feeling soft sheets below me. I look up to him, quirking a brow. He shrugs, falling over me in a familiar position. Though this time he angles himself in a way I can finally feel his hardon poking me. I groan at the feeling, wanting to grab him right now.

Everything seemingly melds together, one moment I'm in his office, and next, I'm in his room. One second I have a shirt on and next, I'm laying in only my underwear. Him being left in only his hat and pants. The boss admires me for a second, the rush of erotic sensations nearly paused. His look is fierce, fire pouring from his gaze, but it still has room for affection and true admiration.

"so damn beautiful," he pets at my chest. He fondles my boob, thumbing my nipple with an all too excited gleam in his eye. "I could wreck you so easily," he ponders aloud. I reach up to his bare chest, running my fingers from his sternum down to his pants.

"I thought you wanted to adore me," I smirk, tugging him closer by his belt. He falls to his hands, cradling my head in his arms.

"Doll, I want to do everything to you," he purrs, attacking my neck with love bites. I hum, slowly flicking off his belt and reaching into his pants. He stiffens, grunting as I grab him.

"big words from a big man," I tease, stroking his cock.

He shutters," you don't know big yet, doll. Now be a good girl and let your boss go."

I let him go, slowly sliding my hand out of his pants," yes, sir."

The boss lets out a shaky breath, dropping his head to my shoulder for a moment. My nails glide over his stomach towards his chest and back down. I allow him a second, though that's all he needs.

He sits up, pushing off his pants but keeping his boxers. I admire the tent, feeling oh so powerful at the moment. I did that, I am the one who turned him on. That thought alone makes me feel ten feet tall.

I hardly notice when his hand trails up my thigh till he hooks a finger over my underwear. He tugs them down, grinning to himself as my mound is revealed. He tosses the clothing away without a care, quickly reaching out to thumb at my lips. The subtle soft feeling of his touch is nearly enough to make me groan in anticipation. I want him to touch me, I need him to touch me. He does as I silently plead, sliding a finger between my folds. He swipes up toward my clit, massaging so smoothly.

"So wet," he purrs," so wet for me." I don't bother with words as he delves his fingers lower, poking at my entrance with great amusement. I engulf his fingers as he pushes them in, slowly pumping them in and out with a curled retreat. My legs spread further apart on their own as I relish in the lazy strokes.

"Sir," I sigh. He looks up to me, his gaze is all too alluring. My teeth grind as I fight back the urge to buck towards him. God, I need him. His head tilts so slightly as he sighs, his fingers retreat shortly after. He crawls back above me, cleaning off his fingers with his tongue as he does.

"Why must you pull me in so easily," he asks as he discards his last remaining clothing," I want nothing more than to feast upon you but your hungry looks demand more." I reach up and cup his face then adjusting his hat that he kept upon his head. His cock pokes at my crotch, gently sliding at my lips as he lightly jerks his hips.

I pap his cheek," get over it, I've been hungry all week because of you."

He scoffs," all you had to do was ask."

"like I could get the chance to with your tongue down my throat at every turn," I answer. He laughs, looking down between us to grab at himself.

"I think you could have found a way to ask if you truly wanted to," he answers absently as he pushes his tip forward. I suck in a choked breath, tense against the sudden entry. The stretch of just his tip is already fulfilling to someone so starved this past month. He bucks shallowly forward, inching himself in slowly. He soon hilts, looking back up at me with a relieved face.

"I couldn't ask when I didn't know the true intentions," I mumble as my attention is solely drawn to his filling cock. My leg hikes over his hip, pulling him closer. He drops a hand to that thigh, bouncing his hips in slow short drives.

"Well," he kisses at my cheek," do you know my intention now?" I turn to him, meeting his eyes in such a vulnerable moment. Everything I feel is lain bare, the tenderness I feel towards him shining brightly. I cup his cheek, his short bucks ceasing.

"That really depends on after," I nearly whisper. He doesn't answer, instead, pressing a deep kiss to my lips. As he claims me his hips drawback before snapping forward in a breathtaking thrust. He starts a demanding pace, taking and giving in equal parts. His cock hits deep, stoking a fire that I felt was already an inferno. I fall away from his lips, whimpering against him as he plows into me. Our hips clap as the bed squeaks. I now know what it feels like to be on the other side of the wall, not to hear but to be part of the ruckus.

The boss forces pleasure from me with every buck of his hips. I whimper and grind into him, not being able to stay still as my insides crescendo. I barely notice how silent he is, me making enough noise for the both of us. He watches me steadily fall apart, in complete rapture at my noises. A hand sneaks between us, running through my curls before resting upon my engorged clit. I seethe at the gentle prod, crying out as he starts small circles. As I shout for him does he make a sound, a gentle gasp as his lips part.

I feel burned, hot, and demanding at this moment. My insides flutter with its oncoming orgasm. I yell and scream, reaching out to pull him closer as I have no better idea. I suddenly sit on the cusp of true pleasure, my body stiffening as just a breeze could push me over. I reach for him, pulling him in for a wet kiss. He allows it, briefly, pulling away as I fall.

The boss watches me, his face contorting in near pain. His hips stutter as my insides clench him tightly. I can barely keep focus enough to watch him as I arch and writhe below. My screams stutter out till I'm left silent, panting as he continues my orgasm with his unstoppable thrusts.

"Please," I beg. Begging for him to stop, begging for him to keep going. I somehow keep focus enough to watch him, watch him sigh and grunt till his hips slap to mine with one final buck. He drops his head to my shoulder, panting against my ear as he rolls his hips. I can feel his heat, feel his cum paint my insides. I am unable to do anything but hug him close and catch my breath

It takes longer than I thought possible to come back to myself. I'm still left panting under him, only able to listen to his own ragged breathing. I pet at his sweaty back, running the ends of my nails over his shoulder. We just hold one another, lost in the bliss.

"you steal my heart, doll," he mumbles in my hair," how could I ever part from you when you sing so beautifully for me?" I chuckle, not being able to form words just yet. The boss turns us on our sides, cradling me to his chest so tenderly. He pets at my hair, burying his nose against my temple. "I fear I have stronger feelings than first intended," he whispers," I will not leave you for more than a second at a time, my heart couldn't take more than that."

"do you always get this poetic after sex," I ask. He scoffs, reaching down to grab my thigh. He pulls my leg over his hip once more, petting up towards my ass. He gives me a quick slap, jiggling my rear as he does. I yelp, squeezing him when I do. He grunts, baring his teeth. He chuckles shortly after

"only for you, love," he answers," only for you."

I sigh, sliding my hand between us to pet at his chest. I want to give those words back, as I mean them just as truly as he does. The words sit on the end of my tongue, ready to be broadcasted to the world. It takes me a moment to gain courage, still resting securely in his arms.

"I love you," I barely get out. He holds me closer, nuzzling my head.

"I love you, too," he answers in kind. I try to fight off the smile spreading across my face but it's damn near impossible. I smile to myself and close my eyes.

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

my intention never go as planned. i was struggling to write and i saw a cute post on villain with a soft spot for his lover. so i write a small tid bit, the part where he tends to her wounds. IT WASN’T SUPPOSE TO BE 7K WORDS! like how? i stayed up till 2am writing this. i’m just a sap, through and through.

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[gayboysteve]

I don't even genuinely consume much Watcher content lmao I am not in any way particularly attached to them than I am any nebulous person I watch on television. I never said the responsibility falls solely on the audience just that we share SOME of it as unpaying members receiving the benefits of their labor. I don't agree with the way they went about it, or necessarily even the idea of a streaming platform, but I'm saying that we DO owe creators something in exchange for their work and that they ARE entitled to the idea of people wanting to pay.

I can admit they poorly handled the reveal of it without acting like some kind of monetization through the audience is not an unreasonable request. We also don't know if they hired people while the business was doing better and now have a harder time with advertisers which is something they specifically mentioned. That they haven't been doing as well with them lately, which would certainly decrease the amount of income coming into the company. I can absolutely think that trying to save jobs rather than just cutting them in that situation is a viable response.

I've also worked for a small business and had to do plenty of work in terms of market research. We don't know what numbers they crunched behind the screen simply because they didn't give us a poll. I certainly never polled our customers at my job over whether we should increase our hourly rates on electrical jobs, we merely adjusted with inflation and the cost of materials and explained that to customers because it was out of our hands. If the things we need to do our work cost more there really isn't anything we can do other than charge the customers higher in order to not sustain a loss or just simply break even. Maybe that depends on whatever industry you work in but I haven't seen a decrease in customers over this.

My main issue is the way that everyone seemed to come up with ideas they could've made money instead that were absolutely unfeasible or downright cruel- like the extremely vocal amount of people that stated they should just fire a bunch of their employees. During an economic recession. They have responsibilities as business owners but we have a responsibility as consumers as well.

IF we want their product.

If you don't want the product then it simply doesn't matter. But if you DO how can you say that it's unreasonable to request supporting a small indie creator? Just because they didn't necessarily make the greatest business moves also did not at all justify the kind of behavior I saw this weekend. Stalking their wives on social media to comment on how much each item they wore or bought cost. The blatant racism towards Steven. I saw a group of a couple of different people talk about planning to go to the live show to spit in Shane's face. The sheer hatred and vitriol and readiness to completely abandon the show as well as acting like they were a rich Fortune 500 company as well as comparing them to JEFF BEZOS and the 1%. The tons and tons of eat the rich comments. The constant talk of feeling personally betrayed. All this over disliking a decision instead of just people saying "hey we don't like this".

Part of it is certainly the parasocial relationship that a lot of viewers have with the guys, but some of it DOES come down to entitlement. I noticed a slew of people suddenly chiming in they'll be subscribing now, when those same people were talking about six dollars as if it would throw them into financial ruin.

well that was fast, but i feel like i’m being guilt tripped for feeling disappointed—i might be the only one but still— and now they changed it so it will release first on their platform and a month later in youtube for free

the mention of their employees is what i find most guilt tripping like i was the one to hire them and take away their pay even though this could have all been avoided if they did a poll or asked an expert. i feel like downsizing could have helped as well

[astersofthesky]

Reasons why I ship LawLight

It's been a year since I last watched Death Note and up to this day, it still remains on my TOP 5 FAVORITE ANIME (alongside Attack on Titan, Daiya no Ace, Gintama, and the Inazuma Eleven franchise).

Be as it is, the ship between L and Light holds a special place here in my heart. And today I want to talk about the reason why I am head over heels for this painstakingly beautiful ship.

For a quick heads-up. "LawLight" is a non-canon ship pair from Death Note. The two person involved are Yagami Light also known as "Kira" and the Great Detective L otherwise known as Ryuuzaki. I believe that their trope belongs to the enemies to lovers. They are also the most famous ship for the said fandom.

I admit that I am a certified fujoshi. So when scenes like walking together under falling sakura leaves, going to a cafe for their date to confirm their suspicions about each other's identity, and was even CHAINED 24/7 were shown, I can't help but ship them despite the fact that they are LITERALLY TRYING TO KILL AND CATCH EACH OTHER.

Actually for me, what makes this ship so appealing is their cat and mouse chase. A criminal and a detective. The spark and sexual tension apparent in their battle of wits. Who shall fall first? Who shall emerge victorious? And I firmly think that this dynamic between them is also one of the biggest factors why this anime/manga became such a success.

In the eyes of a shipper, some of their interactions are seen as a potential fuel to lit a burning flame called romance. Another thing, they also complement each other.

Why? Well, let's look at Yagami Light first.

Light used the notebook to alleviate his boring mundane life. Because of his high IQ, normal things don't ellicit excitement for him. Also, always hearing about everyday crimes, his strong sense of justice tells him to rid the world of this disgusting humans who continue to cause chaos for the world. So, immediately grabbing the death note as an opportunity to make his ideals a reality, KIRA IS BORN.

Of course, no matter how good the intention is. Taking lives is still a murder. And the fact that Light wanted to take advantage of the situation to become GOD OF THE NEW WORLD, it's true essence is slowly turning into selfishness. Just like any ordinary case, the police have taken interest, no, it's more accurate to say that they were FORCED to take interest. With no more cards to play, the worldwide police decided to ask help from their trump card. Yes, the world's greatest detective L.

Hiding in a single gothic letter and synthetic voice, Light had found his other half. The yin to his yang. Why you ask?

It's simple. L is the only person who can match his intelligence. Who can see through his barrage of lies and alibis. He was the only one who doubted him, the only one who almost sent him to his doom.

He was the ultimate obstacle Light needed to overcome. Because of this thrill, of this danger, Light found true challenge. Other than the joy of killing criminals for his dream, battling with L brought an unexpected bliss deep within his soul. Because of L, his once dull world had been painted with complicated colors. L is the only one who can understand Light.

He is his enemy.

He is his Equal.

He is his captor.

The same goes for L.

Being the number 1 detective in the world, I bet that cases has become repetitive for him. With his astounding deduction skills, he could immediately solve a case while eating his favorite sweets. Thus the appearance of Kira is a mystery for him.

A highly difficult game for him to solve and win. As he said himself, he is childish and he hates to lose. So in order to win, he's given away his identity. He steps out of his shadows and approached Kira himself. Maybe it's a call for responsibility, a call for justice, or a call for his pride, whatever his reason is, he's willing to risk his life.

When he made contact with Light, he had realized that Light is the only other person who can see through him. His trials, his tests. Light never fails to amaze and surprise L. He had even considered him his successor, even though he only used it to test Light, with the latter quickly grasping the subtle accusation.

He is his enemy.

He is his captee.

He is Equal.

No one knows if their relationship had gone beyond detective and a criminal. If they ever had a genuine conversation. One without lies and hidden intention.

A talk as L and Light.

Looking at a watcher's perspective. A single particular scene showed a glimpse of their relationship. The rooftop and foot massage scene who fueled a lot of LawLight shippers.

"The bells are unusually loud today." - L

At the rooftop, L had asked Light if he had ever uttered a truth once in his life. With Light regaining his memories, L knows that this attempt is futile, yet he still tries. And maybe, even held a little hope that Light would surrender himself.

Light on the other hand, as expected caught the meaning of his question, within that short silence, he contemplated his answer even if it's just for mere seconds. But because Light had already steeled his resolve, he chose to lie.

He had already made a choice.

And that is to kill L.

And L himself knows it.

At the stairs, an intimate scene between them is shared. Both are drenched in the rain, then L suddenly offered a foot massage to Light. For non-shippers, they say that it's a Bible reference.

But for people like me, it's simply nothing but a bittersweet moment where for once, emotions are stirred and shared.

The atmosphere, their longing stares.

Light drying L's hair.

The exchange of words.

It truly is a very painful and touching picture.

"It will be lonely isn't it? You and I will be parting ways soon".

L is known for not showing his true emotions. Yet in here, he bares everything. From the way he looks at Light and that slight curve on his mouth, like he's very regretful of something. Maybe it's because he wasn't able to personally give him the verdict or it can also be what ifs and what would they have become if they didn't meet in this kind of circumstances.

On Light, he looked shock and somewhat sad. They say it was an act, but the knowledge of his arch-nemesis soon dying, the one who has been with him since this "chase" started, the one being who gave him thrill and pushed him to his limits, the one who for months, was chained with him 24/7, the only one who could stand as his equal, the one who made him feel, losing that person will surely give you mixed emotions, and I believe that the sadness there is genuine, even though it had been overshadowed by his delight for victory.

It was only a for a short moment but for once, they've dropped all facades as they face each other as L and Light, not Ryuuzaki and Kira.

After L's death, Light is shown to have lose some of his sanity. I've read in a site before telling that L was the one who's holding his ground. And with him gone, with the thrill of danger gone, Light suddenly found himself at loss. He spent months trying to rid of his enemy. His disappearance had caused a void in his heart.

I remember a certain scene where Light imagined L sitting at his usual chair. His eyes were dead and devoid of color. That's where he also started to lower his guard down. For him, L is his only formidable opponent, his other half. He is his equal. It proves with the appearance of Near, where Light says that he's far inferior to L. That he doesn't deserve to wear his mask.

Light had come to respect L.

In Light's final moments, he sees L. A hallucination some says. But they're missing a point here.

The fact that L showed up, either his soul or an imagination, means that he had become an important figure to Light. Maybe he was thinking what L said during the times that they are wearing the chains.

"As long as we are wearing this chains. You and I are bound to share the same fate. If you die, I die." - L Lawliet

Yes, the chains are gone, physically. But because Light had allowed L to become an important piece of his life, he had secured the chain for L to held him captive for as long as he's alive...and if you let your imagination wild, even after death.

This are the reasons why I fell in love with this ship.

They're both broken.

One is blinded by power.

One had secluded himself from the outside world.

Their chase will never be forgotten. A game that only the two of them understood knowing from the beginning that they will never achieve a happy ending. This painful and bittersweet ship will go down in history.

[aestheticaxolotl]

Lets Talk About Gunnar Maelstrom

Evil Daddies is where it’s at.

One of the meanings of the word "Maelstrom" is 'A situation of state of confused movement or violent turmoil.

Let me start with Maelstrom, usung the Carmen Sandiego Wiki to break him down as a whole, starting with appearance and personality (Excluding the comments around his action in the show, this will be hard seeing his major inclusion to the story so please bear with me once more as I do this).

Professor Maelstrom is a middle-aged man with pale skin and white hair with a receding hairline. He has broad shoulders and wears a black blazer over a dark gray turtleneck. As stated previously, Maelstrom is seen as being an almost unnaturally pale color, hinting towards possible Albinism.

Now, Middle aged according to the wiki page is between 50 and 60. Seeing the receding hairline and the lines on his face (Also can someone point me to a source about those random chin hairs? Like please I need context). 

He obviously has stress and sleep lines. I imagine these are due to his life choices and idiot operatives. His ethnicity is stated as being Swedish but continues to contradict itself when it later states that Maelstrom is from Scandinavia. I think this is to throw the readers and deep show watchers off and it would work better if both ethnicity and race were left as unknown. 

Now we move on to the easier things, personality, which is LONG. So let me start writing!

Of the five members of V.I.L.E's faculty, Maelstrom seems to command the most authority and serve as the de facto leader of the group, being the first to speak as well as hand out orders. As one may expect, Professor Maelstrom is criminally insane, which is ironic, considering his forte is psychiatry. Professor Maelstrom often likes to tinker with his patients' psyches and enjoys psychologically evaluating students, much like someone finding joy in pulling the wings off a butterfly. He does possess some level of awareness to his own insanity, though he is quick to brush it off as a mere label that other weak-minded people have given him. He also has an apparent fondness for the more psychotic recruits. In keeping with his name, his main desire is to spread chaos and disorder, with any actual gain being a secondary concern at best. Carmen considered him to be creepy, and rightfully so after he and Dr. Bellum collaborated to wipe Crackle's brain. Professor Maelstrom loathes Cookie Booker as he has no tolerance for her stuck up behavior towards him. He seems to have a fondness for marine life, as his office hosts a giant aquarium filled with jellyfish and other specimens. His use of the term "bait" as a pun is in reference to fishing bait, and in the novel adaptation, it is used twice. Further expanding the psychological exam scene from the show, in the novel, he declares that Carmen gave the "wrong" answer to the Rorschach test, stating that the image was a seahorse. The novelization expanded his sense of humor, though it mentions that even that had a dark and unpredictable tinge to it, showing delight in the lengths that his students would go in order to not be called upon in class. The show does have him throw a small quip every once in a while, often tinged with exasperation at his colleagues' antics or ignorance. He also enjoys making Countess Cleo envious of his fashion style, having asked Le Chevre and El Topo in the "The Fishy Doubloon Caper" to acquire an Ecuadorian Eight Escudos doubloon to be melted into solid gold cufflinks.

As done in my previous post, I will be diving deeper into the statement in the bolded font. 

Maelstrom seems to command the most authority and serve as the de facto leader of the group,

I don’t see any major reason for this face besides that there is a level of respect among the Faculty that centers around Maelstrom, seeing as he is one of the psychologically smarter than any of the other members, except Shadowsan but that is a post for another day. He is a very scary character because he is unpredictable, and possibly in the minds of the other, can be blamed for their crimes should they ever had been caught, but this leads me to my second quip with Gunnar Maelstrom.

Professor Maelstrom is criminally insane, which is ironic, considering his forte is psychiatry

When one looks up the term ‘Criminally insane’ we get the following “an accused person that is deemed to be suffering from cognitive illness or fault which frees then of lawful accountability for the unlawful behaviors” from https://psychologydictionary.org/criminally-insane/. 

I cannot at all say that I support this terminology on the stance that Maelstrom is more than aware of his action, to the point where he logically makes the choices to leave his fellow faculty behind at the prospect of capture. One cannot say that a “Criminally insane’ person is able to make these choices so quickly and with such calculation as to pack a go bag and hire an escape driver. But I digress.

He does possess some level of awareness to his own insanity, though he is quick to brush it off as a mere label that other weak-minded people have given him.

I don’t think that Maelstrom can stand to be labeled by other people. The exact use of the phrase “Weak-minded’ points me to believe that Maelstrom sees himself as mentally stronger, powerful, and far beyond that of the average person. This points to his class, and I’ll explain this in the next part, being the most critical and important to V.I.L.E as a whole.

His main desire is to spread chaos and disorder

This is WAY too specific to just be a drop in detail. No character is created be be a chaotic mixture, but they are built to SPREAD chaos, and Maelstrom is the perfect character to do this. His favor to Paperstar is a direct jab at this detail about him, she is an element of chaos that he put into play, the disorder of her is why he places her, while the other faculty hate Paperstar, he finds her the perfect wild card.

Professor Maelstrom loathes Cookie Booker 

I fully think this is, as the wiki and al of my sources say, Cookie Booker represents the original 1998 Carmen Sandeigo. And the loathing between them is a reference to the original game and books.

He seems to have a fondness for marine life, as his office hosts a giant aquarium filled with jellyfish and other specimens.

Not gonna lie, but I love this detail. The details, that caused me to GO BACK and watch the episodes with Maelstrom, was that the man likes fish. This adds onto the effect that he is rather cold and uncaring towards people, seeing them a thing to observe and keep. I also just love the idea of him having a fish tank and spoiling his goldfish that he named Clyde or something equally related to big time crime, like Al Capone or as said before Clyde.

He also enjoys making Countess Cleo envious of his fashion style

I’m sorry but Cleo and Gunnar challenging each other to see who is better in fashion? I’m sorry but they are the fashion police. Also I think this places WHO he is close to in the Faculty. I am very willing to bet that Maelstrom, who left Coach Brunt to drown and die, would NEVER leave Cleo or Bellum (Possibly) to die because they align more with HIS goals.

Brunt is... Dare I say... THE DUMBEST OF THE V.I.L.E FACULTY

WHAT DOES SHE DO?!?!

WHY IS SHE HERE?!

SHE’S STRONG AND THAT’S IT!

I digress (i used that phrase twice now), I just think his goals line up more with Cleo and (Again, possibly) Bellums’.

Now I go onto my favorite part of these paragraphs, the trivia/abilities. I love trivia/abilities, just because everyone sees this word and they are like ‘oh it’s just dumb facts’. BUT NO! It’s DENSTRAMENTAL to the character and links to their personalities.

He is capable of expertly performing a bait and switch. Professor Maelstrom specializes in psychiatry. He has been shown to have a favorite student, similar to the other faculty, in Paper Star; despite her disregard of the protocol in Mumbai. His grudge against Cookie Booker could be a subtle reference to the hostile relationship that his previous incarnation had with Carmen Sandiego in the 90's cartoon. As shown in the season three episode, The Haunted Bayou Caper, he has a fondness for Halloween.

Most od this is already covered, i know, so I won’t go over what I already did. SO let me just say... I know-

He is capable of expertly performing a bait and switch 

I NEED to SEE Maelstrom just- *Pulls and Bait and switch* -STEAL FROM SOMEONE. Like. I could totally believe that Maelstrom is the sleekest, most sneaky, most Swiper is swiping guy in the world. I am okay with letting them tell me this, but NO okay with them not SHOWING ME.

Netflix, I HOPE you see this so you can give me a SHOW on HOW GUNNAR MET MY MOTHER, COUNTESS CLEO.

He has a fondness for Halloween.

Charlie Pants. 

Do I need to say any more?

Okay, big ending time. So Gunnar Maelstrom, a deeply interesting character, mysterious backstory that a person can read into, different fun facts that lead to speculation and interest and amazing stories. I love Gunnar Maelstrom’s character, his personality, and his appearance. His effect? 100. His story? 100. His ability to make me rewatch the series? 100. 

Thanks for reading this. I’ll have another one out soon! Requests are open