#i am so incredibly detached from everything and everyone. this is space. a space. where nothing holds

[viscera-in-the-micr0wave]

i had no idea my name was unisex until just now. this is a lovely discovery

[tumblezwei]

I am a Ruan Mei defender, not because I think she's a blameless misunderstood character, but bc I am very afraid of people interpreting her terrible actions as bad writing bc "the game still expects us to like her" or overexaggerating her bad traits in order to make Dr. Ratio look better by comparison.

And that's not to say I think Ratio is a "bad" guy either, I think the whole point of introducing him alongside Ruan Mei was to highlight how different the Genius Society operates compared to "normal" academics. Ratio's over the top arrogance makes him off-putting at first, but his genuine desire to spread knowledge to everyone who wants to learn it is the perfect contrast to the obsession and selfishness of the Genius Society, who only ever care about fulfilling their own desires without concern for those below them. Even Screwllum, the member who seems the most sociable and friendly, let Ratio carry on with his antics on the space station just to see what would happen, even though it put the Trailblazer in danger and threatened the whole facility.

So that is to say, Ruan Mei is like that on purpose. We aren't supposed to see her drugging us and sending us after an incomplete Emanator of Propagation and be confused as to how she's a "goody guy." She isn't. None of the members of the Genius Society are "good" people just bc we're allied with them. Herta uses Traliblazer as a guinea pig for the Simulated Universe after all, and we now know that as long as it's something he's curious about, Screwllum won't interfere to protect us even when he's already figured out the solution to the problem we're facing.

But I also want to do a little apologism for Ruan Mei bc sometimes the accusations I see lobbed at her is a bit much. Like, yeah, she drugged us, but it was a temporary inhibitor that literally only stopped us from giving people information about Ruan Mei. And she didn't do it just to fuck with us? Ruan Mei is incredibly aware of how emotionally detached she is and knows it's almost impossible for her to understand the affection given to her by her creations. She doesn't drug us out of some evil desire to control information, she does it bc she knows her time on the space station is temporary and wants to avoid leaving behind any memories of her being there. That doesn't make it okay and it's still presented alongside everything else she does that's uncaring towards TB and her creations, but it makes it a little more complicated than just "she's an unfeeling sociopath that would happily watch us die." It's bad, but it's also one of Ruan Mei's weird and not good ways of showing consideration.

It's interesting, is what I'm saying. It's compelling. And I don't really dig how it she gets reduced to a two-bit manipulator.

I'm a bit of a stickler for this particular thing bc it's something I truly adore about HSR's writing, and also something I see as one of the game's core themes. There is no clear divide between "good" guys and "bad" guys. The Genius Society is full of emotionally constipated weirdos who wouldn't pay a single bit of attention to us if we weren't interesting to them, but they're also important allies to the Express. The Stelleron Hunters are our biggest opposition and wreak havoc on whatever planet they enter, but we know that their goals somewhat align with our own and unless you go out of your way to be mean to her with every dialogue option, it's pretty obvious that Kafka is someone Trailblazer loves.

And even Cocolia, someone who almost destroyed the last remnants of civilization on her own planet, gets treated with sympathy. Bronya is allowed to mourn her mother and still see her as an aspirational figure, all the while Serval is allowed to break off ties with her and definitively move on from her past.

It's a theme that carries over to a lot of HSR's important side quests too, where often you're expected to choose between two options that both have some pretty heavy downsides no matter what. You have your own moral compass, and along the way the choices may seem crystal clear, but it's never so black and white as you predict. It's a game about decisions, about making your own way in life and learning about the different worldviews of those you meet. Good or bad, helpful or hurtful, it's not always so obvious as "this person did something bad to me, now I will forever dislike them."

"When there is the chance to make a choice, make one that you know you won't regret," "explore, understand, establish, and connect," "the Express welcomes everyone" etc etc

[hentaisenpai-5]

The long version

*excited gasp*

SO-! 👏

This is gonna be a lot

You may wanna get some tea and snack or something lol

My feelings on monogamy are .....Complex?

I've been in monogamous, ethical non-monogamous, as well as bdsm dynamics and polyamorous relationships. So I have some experience here and there?

Some quick things about me; I feel a lot really intensely. I care about a lot very deeply, and put others before myself more than I should. I'm also very pre-occupied with things being "just" and "fair". Like, way more than normal. It's intense for me. It comes with the adhd apparently and it's something I'm still learning to balance.

I also grew up with irrational parents, so being in control of these heavy feelings and making sure they don't paint my thoughts, like my parents let theirs all the time, is really important to me. Practicing patience, mindfulness and meditation usually helps. There's moments where it's more difficult, but sometimes visualizing the feelings voicing themselves help separate the feelings from myself so I can better handle them. There's more tho.

I was also bullied and sexually abused by a number of people growing up, and it was a small town, so I grew up incredibly closed off and untrusting of most people.

Back in that town, everyone knew everything about everyone. This meant that if you under preformed in any capacity, if there was any little thing off about you that they didnt like, something about your body or your skills in bed, wtfever, an ex could take it and run a mile with it. If they couldn't, they'd make something up. Or, theyd find a way to twist things before it ever came out as some weird way to cover their asses by faux-shaming you.

That, coupled with adhd and not being able to trust my own damn parents, pretty much made me insanely paranoid of others.

So, for me to even feel remotely attracted to someone in a sexual and/or romantic capacity, I need to trust them.

A lot.

They'd have to be a friend, before anything else. I need that level of trust, and security, before I could even think about feeling sexual about someone (hence my love for bdsm lol).

Otherwise, I'd be too scared or anxious the whole time (I learned this the hard way. I got asked if I was gay or if I didn't find X person attractive in the moment a lot before I ever realized i was just scared of what they would do or say after)

Because of all this, this means that I'm usually VERY reluctant to get serious and make myself exclusive to someone. There have been times where I have opened myself up to others, gave them a space and say in and on my life, making myself exclusive to them, just for them to turn around and do some really awful shit.

When I commit myself to someone, like when I agree to be exclusive as a partner and not just a friend, it's big. I make them a priority in my life. I dedicate time and effort to them more than anyone else. But this has rarely been reciprocated in my monogamous relationships.

Because of this, I find myself getting hurt a lot less in open relationships, or with friends with benefits

So like, going back to the adhd thing and the emotions.

One of the ways I deal with intense and sudden emotions is by learning my triggers and setting up like. Mental tripwires-? Like, with jealousy, the moment I feel the slightest pang of jealousy, I know to cut that train of thought off immiedately. I'm to immiedately start focusing on my love for the person instead, and then re-evaluate the situation from that emotional lense, rather than from jealousy.

I can uh....get really clingy. And needy. I guess? I didn't used to think I was but it feels like I am these days, at least when compared to others. And in a lot of relationships, I tend to feel things in it more than my partners do, so maintaining a level of detachment helps me not feel bad for when the feelings arent reciprocated

(Coming to terms with the fact that I may always love my partners or friends more deeply than they love me bc of my adhd has been borderline cosmic horror for me lmao)

So like, there are parts of me that I only engage with for monogamous relationships that I don't otherwise like to indulge in other relationships. Although this is rare that it happens, for my own safety.

And even then, I tend to keep those things as restrained as possible in accordance to my partners preference. Some partners like that shit, most don't.

So I dont normally show or give all of myself to someone as it has rarely been reciprocated. It's easier and safer for me to control how much of myself I let others interact with, as well as what parts. This applies to all sorts of different parts of myself in my life.

All that being said to say that yes, I can be monogamous, but only for the right person. It's not hard for me to have self control. I've had a partner before express concern over my poly past, but it really is as simple as me being able to just. Not want to go after other people.

Although, I usually prefer being open, as a deeper connection is already a pre-requisite for me, and it also let's me maintain a level of distance with them that one is afforded when just being friends.

Side note:

I don't dream of an ideal partner who is specifically monogamous or poly either tho. I hope that one day I will find someone who loves me for all of my weird quirks, for things I never even noticed about myself, someone who sees all of the potential within me and wants to see me grow alongside them.

I have no idea what that person is going to look like, or what their interests will be, or what their preferences are. I don't even know if it's possible for someone to love someone else in their entirety. I'm not even sure it's possible to be fully known by anyone, let alone ourselves.

I think it's far more likely that someone can love a lot of a person so much that they would be willing to tolerate the less savory parts. I think that's more realistic.

I also think it is most realistic for people to be in open relationships, and I embrace those far more easily than committed monogamous relationships.

But at my core, I'm a hopeless romantic. I dream of a partner who will love all of me. That I won't be too much, but rather just enough. That my adhd isnt annoying, or an excuse, but something I live with as a part of me. Something to laugh at or help with like ive been doing all my life. I don't bet on this, and I don't even think it's really possible, but if I could even get close to this, I think I could be content

[candychronicles]

heavens // t. keigo/hawks

A/N: my take on the roommates theme for the bnharem collab! honestly didn’t know where i was going with this one and it seems a bit random/rushed so i apologize in advance but hope you enjoy nonetheless! 

CHARACTER PAIRING: Takami Keigo/Hawks x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3,491

WARNINGS: oral (f!receiving), some language 

SYNOPSIS: despite his growing popularity, you two remained steady roommates, which confused you to no end. what was his true motive in keeping you around? 

And they were roommates! Click here to read more!

Hawks was an interesting character to say the least. when you first moved in, you weren’t all too sure what to expect. he was, at the time, a fairly popular hero, but nowhere near the status he held today. he was charming, suave, friendly and it seemed genuine at the time. things went downhill quick though as his popularity rose and along with it, his annoying, god-like tendencies. 

what you didn’t understand was why he kept you around after all this time. you didn’t necessarily need to live with him still, but as he got more popular and therefore gained more money, the areas he lived in grew nicer and nicer until you were on a gorgeous top floor penthouse with a stunning view, all for the price of your original, dingy apartment. what you could afford on your own would be nowhere near the luxury that he was offering. that’s why you stayed, but you weren’t sure why he offered to let you continue to stay with him after all this time.

sure, you were friends, got along for the most part and when you didn’t, stayed out of each other’s hair, but he didn’t owe you anything and you certainly didn’t want to feel like you were in his debt. yet something attracted the two of you together continuously despite it all. 

what you didn’t know was that Hawks very much enjoyed having you around. you’d deny it until you were blue in the face but he heard one too many times you touching yourself in your bedroom, muffled moans matching those of the girl or guy he was fucking that night. he often did his best to give you a show, cursing, spitting, hitting, anything he could do to rile you up, get you to hear the lewd sounds coming from the apartment. you acted like you didn’t know what he was talking about, scoffed when he invited you to join him or give you his own private show and acted like you didn’t know he was doing that all on purpose just to tease you. 

truth be told, you pushed all those thoughts aside when it came to him. he was attractive, very much so, and also very unattainable, in your eyes anyways. his god-like complex was annoying at times but also very warranted. he was popular with everyone he met-children, women, men, the elderly, hell, you don’t think he ever met a dog that didn’t like him. he was strong, powerful, commanding of the quirk he weld so well. his personality was nothing short of smooth, like honey over ice cream melting on your tongue. you felt so incredibly drawn to him that your brain absolutely shut out any idea of it, giving yourself no hope that he would ever reciprocate the pure feelings of desire you felt towards him. after awhile, your convincing became reality and you began to question everything, desperate to detach yourself from his enigmatic ways. 

hey sweetheart, will be gone for most of the day. left some money for groceries and a little extra for whatever you want. don’t miss me too much

-H

you scoffed at the note pasted to your refrigerator, neon pink glaring at you in the morning sun trickling from the balcony window. he had been gone a lot lately, sometimes bringing home people at night, mostly crashing straight on the couch before he had even gotten a chance to change clothes. you acted like you didn’t miss him, miss his presence, the lingering touches that you swore were just him being an ass and making fun of you, but in reality, you missed the hell out of him. the domesticity that he showed when it was just you two vulnerable late at night, tired from a hard day of work, it made you realize that he wasn’t a god all the time after all.

that thought didn’t change your mind about his attainability, however. in fact, it only seemed to spur your ideals on more, convincing yourself that a man who could be so vulnerable and yet so strong was one who deserved more than what you could give. it would never be you and you were content with that fact, or so you thought.

your day was long and grueling, working patrols and small missions as a pro hero. you were likeable enough but when it came down to it, you didn’t care to be popular, didn’t care to make a ton of money or be interviewed by dozens of people a month. you just wanted to do your job and keep people safe and at the end of the day, that was what you accomplished. 

it was nearly midnight when you returned home, the elevator dinging closed behind you as you walked into the penthouse. the lights were still off, everything in place from this morning, which meant that Hawks had not arrived home yet despite him being gone for nearly the whole day. anger bubbled up underneath your skin. you knew he didn’t owe you anything, you knew you were nothing more than roommates, but sometimes feeling so isolated and alone in this big space with no one to talk to or do anything with left you antsy and annoyed. in simple frustration and retaliation, you locked the balcony window, forcing him to come up the elevator like a dignified man, bringing his nightly fuck in through the lobby instead of sneaking them inside like he often did.

it was nearly six am before you were woken up to a loud thud, the door smacking against the wall. you sighed, allowing yourself to calm down before you tried to go back to bed, but before you got a chance, a knock sounded at your door.

“what?” you asked irately, not in the mood to entertain him and his antics.

“why’d you lock the balcony window?” he asked simply, arms crossed. 

as you sat up to answer, you noticed his calm demeanor not so calm anymore. his chest was flaring up and down, body wobbly, and he reeked of alcohol.

“so much for a calm night,” you muttered. “i locked the door because i didn’t want to hear you fucking any of your whores while i was trying to sleep.”

“oh baby, you know you like it, like the sounds i make, the words i say. all you have to do is admit it and i can be all yours.”

“you wish bird brain,” you spat back at him, done with the conversation as you shimmied yourself back into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin and promptly shutting your eyes, ignoring the feeling of his stare burning into your brain.

“i do wish. i wish it were you i was fucking. i’ve wished that since the day i met you, all excited and doe eyed, ready to take on the world and all of its challenges. you never let my fame get in the way, never treat me any differently. you’ve been by my side throughout it all and yet you won’t let me get too close to you. why is that? afraid i’ll break your heart little one?”

you sat back up again quickly only to realize that he had moved to the foot of your bed. he sat down, taking off his boots and shucking them on the floor only to crawl practically into your lap, snuggling into your thigh.

“i won’t break your heart. i’ll only hurt you if you want me to, which i know you do, at least a little bit. but i’d n-never hurt your heart. you’re too precious for that princess, so sweet to me, so so angelic. and yet i can hear your moans through the walls, practically feel you arching off your bed as you chased your high, desperate for a release, wishing it were me who was touching you instead of your own fingers. i can do that you know. all you need to do is say the magic word and i’m yours. no more fucking other people, just me and you. i’ll spoil you rotten, anything you could possibly want and it’s all yours. you’d never have to worry about a thing again, yeah? what do you say?”

your heart hitched into your throat at his babbling confession. surely he wasn’t serious, right? it must’ve been the alcohol talking. you knew that if you said yes he was just going to tease you and tell you that he was joking and never wanted to see you ever again. you were just sure of it… but, in the off case that he was being serious… you couldn’t mess this up.

“yeah, okay,” you replied, voice hitching in your throat as you agreed with him.

you waited a few seconds for the harsh sting of a reply but nothing came. you cast your eyes down to see Hawks passed out, clinging to you as if his life depended on it. sighing, you flopped back down onto the bed, heels of your palms pressed into your eye sockets, brain full of thoughts as you tried to sift through your feelings. eventually you just gave up and passed out against the cool sheets of your bed, too tired to deal with the emotional turmoil you were putting yourself through.

when you woke up the next morning, Hawks was no longer against your thigh but rather plastered to your side. you weren’t sure how you ended up being spooned by the lanky man but it wasn’t necessarily the first time you had cuddled. your brain began working against you almost immediately, convincing yourself that the previous night's events were nothing more than a drunken spur from your roommate and that he did not, in fact, want to be with you.

with those thoughts in mind, you began to wiggle your way out of his grasp, nearly making it out of bed before you felt a hand shoot out and grab you by the wrist. 

“where are you going beautiful? sleep with a man and then ditch him before he even gets a chance to wake up? how heartless of you.”

“oh shut up, you know damn well that we did not sleep together. in fact, you came in here at six in the morning just to simply annoy the hell out of me. now that’s what i call heartless.”

“we didn’t sleep together but we could’ve,” he teased, fingers rubbing gently up and down your arm as he attempted to coax you back into bed, but your mind worked on overdrive, simply not believing that he was interested in you at all. 

“why do you always like to make fun of me, huh? does it give you some sick satisfaction to dangle hope like that in front of my face only to snatch it away from me if i ever say yes?” you spat, getting sick and tired of his games.

“princess, i’m not lying to you, nor am i making fun of you. i would never offer something like this if i wasn’t serious. i want to take care of you in any way i can-emotionally, sexually, financially, anything you need, i want to give it to you. i was trying to drop you hints, give you the space to come to your own conclusions but it seems that i miscalculated how that pretty little brain of yours works. instead of believing that i was seriously flirting with you, it seems as if you thought that i was making fun of you instead. how funny that the mind works like that sometimes. i must admit i was a fool for not seeing it sooner, but now it makes so much sense.”

“what are you rambling on about?” you asked, furrowing your brow in confusion as you tried to make sense of the fact that he was not only dead serious about wanting to be with you but also psychoanalyzing your thoughts at the same time.

“how you would always get mad when i brought people home but never said anything to me, how you always scoffed at my sweet words, would never take money from me despite me leaving it very clearly for you, never getting too close to me despite living together for years. i’m honestly dumbfounded that i didn’t realize sooner. you’ve been in love with me for a long time too, huh? except, unlike me, you truly never thought you had a chance.”

“u-uh, yeah, i-i just, Keigo, what are you really trying to say to me?”

“sweetheart, be mine, wholly and fully in every way possible. let me take care of you like i’ve always wanted, always tried to do. this isn’t some joke or elaborate ruse, i’m not lying to you or trying to hurt you in any way. i really, truly want to be with you.”

you exhaled heavily, not realizing you had been holding your breath the whole time, searching his eyes for any sign of a lie, not finding anything except sincerity and hope.

“okay,” you relented, nodding your head. “yeah, if you say you’re not lying to me, i’ll trust you. i just, i don’t know. i never realized that you actually liked me back. i never would’ve guessed it in a million years. never would’ve thought i would hear any words like that come out of your mouth let alone so sincerely.”

you looked down, twiddling your thumbs as you contemplated the situation once more, but before you could let your brain get the best of you, Hawks placed his slender fingers underneath your chin, lifting your face up so that you could peer at him. he leaned forward slowly, foreheads pressed together.

“is it okay if i kiss you?”

you nodded your head, squeaking out a quiet “yes” before surging forward to place your lips on his, desperate to feel him, desperate to quiet the negative voices in your head and surround yourself with him instead.

he matched your pace eagerly, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck to pull you forward even more, his own desperation leaking through the kiss. he was so enamored with you, the way you smelt, your mussy hair, the sparkle in your eyes, the feeling of your soft lips against his own. it was almost too much to handle. he hadn’t been with anyone in awhile, preferring to wait it out and confront you when he had the courage to do so, and he felt himself getting more and more antsy as time went on. he wanted to respect you, treat you with the dignity and honor that you deserved, but in that moment, all he wanted to do was ruin you and mark you as his own.

“baby, you need to tell me if i go to far, yeah? i just want to make you feel good, never uncomfortable. let me take care of you like you deserve,” he panted, adjusting himself closer to you.

“i trust you Keigo. i’m yours.”

he groaned at the sound of you, of how pathetic and weak you were towards him, how you trusted to be vulnerable around him, trusted that he would take care of you. he had never wanted to ruin anything so badly in his life and he was going to do his best to make sure you knew you were his.

the kisses turned more sensual, tongues dipping in and around each other, exploring one another for what felt like the first time ever. for you, it had been awhile, telling yourself that you were too busy to be sexual with someone else when in actuality you had been craving a certain blonde all along. for him, this was something entirely new and special. he never got the chance to be truly intimate with anyone, let his guard down, want to please his partner more than himself, but you were different, special in the fact that you loved him for him and no other reason than that. 

“please Keigo, i need more,” you whined, fisting at his shirt as you tried to pull him impossibly closer to your body. 

“anything for you princess.” 

his shirt came off first, a delicate process he mastered years ago. he reached for your own shirt, fingers playing at the hem as he once again asked permission. you replied by pulling it off yourself, exposing your breasts to him. he immediately latched onto your left nipple, hand coming up to pinch the right, gently coaxing you to lay back down on the bed as he followed, hands and mouth never leaving your body. he laved you with his tongue, leaving a trail of cool moisture in its wake, sucking and biting at every soft spot he could think of, wanting so hard to hear you moan. 

“that’s it baby, don’t be shy. i want to hear you moan, say my name.”

you responded with a groan as his hand came to rest on your clothed cunt, feeling the wetness through your shorts. he smirked at the realization that you did truly want him as bad as he wanted you and the thought had his cock straining in his pants. it wasn’t long before he had freed himself from his confines, watching the way your eyes drank up the sight of him through the filtered light. 

gently, you reached out your hand to paw at his cock, marveling in the way it twitched at the slightest touch. you were enamored by him, all of him. before you kneeled a greek god willing to worship you, a mere mortal. you didn’t know what you did to deserve this but you figured you’d spend the rest of your life thanking the heavens.

“don’t worry about me right now, yeah? let’s just focus on making you feel good,” he cooed, reaching down to gently tug at your shorts.

you lifted your hips up without question, allowing him to pull the fabric down your body, your underwear coming along with it. he greedily watched as your slick stringed against the fabric before snapping. he was amazed that he could make someone so wet just by kissing them and was more than curious to see how soaked he could get you by the end of the morning.

he slowly dropped himself down to the edge of the bed, positioning himself between your thighs. kisses were placed to the soft flesh on your legs, pinching and nipping along the way, relishing in the squeals and moans you let out of your mouth. experimentally, he licked up your slit, watching how your breath hitched and your hands grasped the sheets below you, desperate to hold onto something. he licked again, this time using one of his hands to hold you down and the other to come and open you up. you responded immediately, back attempting to arch off the bed at the already intense situation.

he started up a steady pace, watching each little movement, breath, moan, grasp of the blanket to analyze what you liked best. he was enraptured with you, everything about you. you were so strong, fighting crime like it was nothing, doing anything you could to keep citizens safe and yet here you were, putty in his hands, baring your heart for him, trusting that he would take care of you.

the pressure inside of you slowly built up. it was like an intense heat you had never felt before, white hot and pulsing inside your abdomen. you clutched the sheets, your thighs, his hair, anything you could to purchase yourself to this earth as he brought you closer and closer to the promised land. finally, with one final lick, you came, crying out his name in a symphony of praises, singing to the high heavens.

he watched as you came done around his tongue, how your breath labored, eyes screwed shut, face flush and face twisted in pure pleasure. it was a magnificent sight to see, you so relaxed and carefree, enjoying every feeling that flooded over you.

when you had finally come down and your breathing began to even out, you opened your eyes to find Keigo still nestled between your thighs, head resting gently on you.

“how are you feeling love?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your hip.

“like i just left this world and came back,” you answered truthfully, laughing at his proud expression.

“are you okay? is there anything i can get for you?”

“no, Keigo, i think i’m okay,” you answered truthfully.

for the first time in a long time, you felt at ease. your body was relaxed, your mind foggy from the pleasure and you had the man you loved staring up at you like you were the only thing in this world that mattered.

“good, i’m glad you’re okay because we’re not done here. lay back down baby bird, let me make you feel good.”

[lustbile]

Xiaojun wanted nothing more than to listen to what you were saying, and with his friends drunk bodies scattered pass out around the living room, you’d think he’d had nothing to distract him now. But unfortunately for you both, he had gotten a little dizzy so he had chosen to sit on the floor, and after you had taken your pants off while complaining that it should be a crime to be forced to wear pants after drinking, you perched yourself on the edge of the kitchen table with a soft peach stuck between your teeth.

Which should be fine, he had no issue having to strain to hear your happy rambling, but the placements had given him a perfect view of the soft space between your legs.

Your relationship with him had always been a little different, you’re not sure when it happened, but one day you and him started exchanging flirty glances. Flirty glances turned to flirty words, and eventually even suggestive jokes and taunts. And once that threshold was crossed, Xiaojun couldn’t get making the jokes a reality out of his head. His current view, wasn’t helping.

“Are you even listening Dejun?” you ask, the addition of his name pulling him out of his trance and making him jump. Even through your rambling about how you’ve been thinking about finally getting a puppy, the sweet fruit filling your belly had sobered you up enough to notice that his eyes had gone blank right in the middle of your sentence about where you’d be able to fit a dog crate in your apartment.

“Huh what? Yes!” he shakes his head as the words tumble out, his sudden raise in volume making a body that’s laying close by turn. Whoever it was, the darkness of the room making it only a shadow but based on the size maybe Lucas?, only shifted a bit before settling back down.

“Yeah right. I can tell when I’ve lost you,” you state so matter of factly it through a mouthful of peach that it throws him off. He didn’t think you’d be able to tell something like that, “so what is so important on your mind that you don’t wanna listen to me talk about puppies?”

“No no it’s.... it’s nothing,” he shakes his head again before his eyes shift down, the idea that whatever it was would make him not want to look at you making your chest tighten a bit.

“Bull, it’s not nothing. Tell me what’s up.”

‘Easy for you to say,’ he thinks to himself, the idea of having this conversation getting even more stressful when he chances a peak up and sees you had your lips wrapped tightly around the pit of your once existing fruit, your tongue working the get any remaining pulp.

“Do you know how distracting you are,” the breathless what he speaks tells you that the words weren’t said with total intention.

“How am I distracting you, from myself?” you ask with a soft laugh, you hand lifting and your tongue peaking out to lick at the left over juice left on your skin.

“Do you know how pretty you are?” he asks, his voice falling soft again as he sits upon his knees, the skin of his cheek brushing against the knee of your leg that hangs off the edge of the table.

“You can tell me to stop,” he locks his eyes onto yours as his hand begins to trail up your other leg, the gentleness of his touch making a shiver wrack up your spine, “but I don’t think that you’d want me to.”

“Dejun...” you trail off, not interested in telling him to stop in the slightest, but still unaware of what you should say.

“So pretty” he mutters to himself, his lips brushing your skin as his fingers get closer and closer to the warming space between your legs.

Your breathing is shallow, your brain doing leaps as it tries to catch up to its surroundings. Your hand moves without you even thinking, and it only clicks that your brushing the tips of your middle and ring finger over his bottom lip when, at the same moment his middle finger pushes against the wet spot forming on your underwear, he take the digits between his lips and laves his tongue over them.

“So um, ... is this what was distracting you?” you want to kick yourself for asking, but it was hard to get the words structured out in your brain when you have a boy you’ve been smitten with for so long sucking on your fingers and petting at you through your underwear.

“Everything you do is distracting,” he says blatantly and without thought after letting your dampened fingers fall from his lips, “do you think you taste as sweet at the peach on your hand?”

His question makes your heart race, you almost feel like you’re not even still on planet earth as everything happens so fast, the only thing that pulls you back down to earth is a quiet cough from the living room and his teeth gently nipping at your palm.

“I dunno,” you want desperately to play along, be as naturally alluring as the boy knelt between your thighs, but instead your flustered and hot, your ability to keep up with the flirting being thrown in the trash now that your being hit with a reality check.

“Will you let me find out?”

“Yes, please,” you nod eagerly as your hips start to tilt towards him, the stuttering motions making the fabric catch on the wood below you and start to tug them down.

“So sweet asking so politely,” his praises make your face warm even more, your nails digging into the table as he curls his middle finger around the fabric and pull the garment down your thighs, “but promise you’ll be nice and quiet cause wasted or not, their ears still work.”

“I promise,” you squeak quietly before you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, your legs falling apart and bruising against the edge after he shoves the fabric into the pocket of his pants.

With a teasing glint in his eyes, he looks at you with a soft smile. His hand pulls away from his pocket to push his index finger against his lips in a shushing motion, before he leans in a places a soft kiss against your skin.

The muscles of your thighs twitch, a sharp gasp pulling into your lungs at the tingling brush of stimulation. He immediately looks up, a faux look of disappointment on his face at the noise you make, and with a pouting smile, you mirror his shushing motion in hopes to get him to continue.

He only shakes his head in endearment in response before he’s back to the task at hand, his hands grabbing and pushing your thighs open before the flat of his tongue is pushing against you and dragging against your dripping entrance.

“Fuck Jun,” your brain feels like it melts, as well as the muscles winding up your back, but your still aware enough to keep your words quiet so he won’t pull away. But the way he licks slowly over you clit before pulling the flesh into his mouth and sucking, makes holding back even a squeak almost impossible.

The soft wet noises that raise from below you makes you incredibly aware of how quiet the house had gotten since everyone had passed out. You had turned the music down to only a rumble, hoping the soft rhythm would help the guys sleep better regardless of their bed for the night being couches, recliners, and the floor. There was also a soft uneven rumbling of a few of their snores and grunts here and there, but without the whispers of your and Xiaojun’s conversation, it felt like the universe could hear him indulging in your arousal if it would only strain its ear.

The moan you let out is comparable to a purr, and as you rock you hips against his face, your fingers sink into his hair and you slowly lean back until your laying flush on the wooden surface.

He follows your movements with ease, his shoulders raising as he puts his whole body into lavishing every inch of your sensitive skin.

His hands tickle at the skin of your stomach as they trail up your sides, the sensation making your breathing pick up and your body start to squirm. He doesn’t seem effected by any of your moving though, as he welcomes you squeezing his head gently with your thighs with a deep groan and his hands squeezing roughly at your swelled chest.

You whine into the thick air of the room, bordering on breaking your promise to be quiet when he continues to groan into you and scrape his blunt nails down your skin and against your stiffening nipples.

Your eyes begin to roll back as you feel the promise of an orgasm start to crawl up your spine, the flat of your foot pressing into the table top while the other pushes against his back with your toes curling into and tugging at his shirt.

“Please, please,” it’s only a whisper, but it’s enough for him to pinch at your side in warning. Though his disappointment is obviously faux, when you meet his eyes and they sparkle playfully as he silently begs you to let go.

He knows you staying silent is lost cause, and he’s come to embrace it, when you back starts to curve away from the table. A grumbly moan shakes your chest and he only laps at you faster and you start to shiver against him.

Your head is still a bit fuzzy from the night that now lived behind you, but it only adds to the overwhelming amount of pleasure that takes a hold of you. His tongue feels like heaven and the orgasm that rocks through you is one of best you’ve ever had. You can’t help but scold yourself for taking so long to let him take his claim between your legs.

It’s not until you harshly pull at his hair, his thick eyebrows scrunching together in response to the dull pain, does he finally pull his lips and tongue from your skin, a lewd popping noise following as he detaches from your sensitive clit.

You don’t let him speak before your pressing your still glossy lips against his, the taste of your arousal mixing from his mouth with the still lingering taste of the peach in yours as your tongues brush one another’s, and the flavor makes you both happily groan.

��Let me take you to my room,” it’s not a question but a plead that he lets out against your lips. A plead you answer with a fast nod of the head and desperate hands that grab at his clothes.

And with clumsy feet and groping fingers, you run with him to the room, the scattered drunken bodies of your friend tripped over, but mostly forgotten.

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Prove Me Wrong

Summary: She can trust you, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

Warning: 18+ Mental Health, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Violence, Smut

Chapter 8

****** 

Heat rises from the mug in front of you, warming the finger you swirl around the rim.

At your right sits Bucky, Steve on his right. They’re talking about this show they’d been told to watch by Sam. You were engaged in the conversation since you’ve seen the show, but your thoughts have pulled you to another place.

Thoughts about your date with Natasha later. She told you straight out that it would be simple: dinner and a walk in the park. That did nothing to quell your nerves though.

Your distraction is short lived.

“What’s on your mind, Doll?” Steve asks, Bucky’s boot nudging your foot under the table.

Looking up from the mug of tea, you sigh,“ I’m nervous about my date with Natasha later.”

You say it as if they knew anything about it. Last they checked the two of you were avoiding each other for whatever reasons.

Steve leans forward, careful not to knock over his water,“ date? You and Nat?” 

“Mhm.” 

“When did this happen?” Bucky asks, gaze flicking to Steve then back.

You almost smile at the clear concern in his eyes. He cares about you. 

Running a hand across the back of your neck, you answer,“ yesterday. We talked, which I don’t think would’ve happened so soon if not for Liho, but we-”

Steve frowns, hand raising a little,“ who’s Liho?”

“Natasha’s cat. She’s an adorable little thing.” You smile fondly talking about the cuddly, yet very nonchalant cat.

Now both men are frowning. They hadn’t seen any cat, apart from Goose that is. When had Natasha gotten a cat? Why?

Deciding those are questions for later, they ask you to continue. 

You nod,“ yeah so after Liho found me I went looking for how he got in and ran into Nat. I asked if we could talk and she said yes and long story short I told her I have feelings for her despite barely knowing her and she reciprocates.”

“Did she specifically say she has feelings for you?” Bucky is quick to ask.

You nod, smiling a little wider.

His brown eyes narrow,“ just be careful.”

That makes both you and Steve look at the man.

“Is there something I don’t know Barnes?” You laugh as you ask, but both of them pick up on the nervousness in your voice.

Bucky sighs, pulling his lip between his teeth,“ there’s always going to be something you don’t know.”

Trust Bucky to be blatantly honest with you. You appreciate it but it makes you a million times more nervous about this than before.

Insecurities rise in you and it once again detaches you from the present again. 

Obviously you and Natasha will always be learning about each other. People change like the weather and there’s nothing wrong with that, it just means you need to remain openminded and understanding.

However, the way Bucky said, it sounds more like Natasha will always be keeping things from you. 

The hours leading to your date, you spend in your office. With the space being your comfort zone, you’d hoped it would calm your racing thoughts and pounding heart.

But it doesn’t. So you nervously get dressed and head to the common room to wait.

“Wooow, you look great Y/n.” Steve says, eyes respectfully taking in your outfit. 

You smooth your hand down the burgundy top and black pants with a deep breath,“ you think? It’s not too much for dinner and a walk right? Or maybe it’s too little? Shou-”

“You look perfect.”

That smooth, sultry voice sounds behind you, words coming out with a breath of air. 

When you turn, you find her smiling softly at you, green eyes quickly scanning your form but snapping to your e/c ones. And you take a moment to look over her outfit.

Only to notice that you’re unintentionally matching. The woman choosing to wear a short black dress and a burgundy leather jacket. 

Like always she looks beautiful and you tell her so, a little more breathy than she had told you. 

“Thank you,” her smile never leaves,“ you ready to go?” 

Nodding, you both say goodbye to Steve and Bucky, who watches you both cautiously.

You two move around each other, as if scared to make any sudden moves. It’s clear you’re both nervous, about this going badly but also, the slightest fear that it goes well.

If it does go well the dynamic between you two changes. How you can’t know, not until it happens, but it will change.

Despite those fears and Bucky’s warning playing at the back of your mind, you will yourself to relax and enjoy this moment with Natasha. And it’s only settled in you to do so when she pulls up to the restaurant.

You feel horrible for not having said anything to her the whole ride. How uncomfortable had you made her? How awkward had this become?

“Do you plan to stay in there all night? Cause a dinner for two would suck without you.” Natasha’s lighthearted joking pulls you into reality.

She’s standing outside your open door, hand waiting for you to accept. And when you do a warmth blooms across your hand, up your arm, and through your body.

You mumble a thanks as you step out of the car and walk hand in hand with her to the restaurant.

As soon as you’re seated you smile apologetically to Natasha,“ am I completely bombing this date?” 

“No,” she chuckles,“ I’d love to have a conversation with you but it’s okay that you’re nervous.”

“How are you not?” 

Red hair tussles with a shake of her head,“ if you tell anyone I said this I’ll deny it but, you make me incredibly nervous.”

A few simple words make you that much more comfortable. Your heart still races but for a different reason. 

The softness in her eyes and the smile on her face pushes you even higher up a mountain of feelings that you’re sure you’re going to fall from. And throughout dinner you find more and more reasons why falling wouldn’t be a bad thing.

She focuses so intently on the things you say, she makes you laugh, and she continues to challenge you.

“Wait no! You shot Sam?” Your eyes widen at the woman’s story.

Having finished dinner, you both moved over to the bar and continued talking. One White Russian and a glass of Pinot later, you’re both past the nerves.

So much so that your legs are pressed together at the lack of space between you both as you face each other, your fingers brush every so often almost subconsciously.

The comfortability level having risen with each passing moment.

Natasha’s hand waves as she lifts her White Russian to her lips and sips it,“ he was fine. It was a widow’s bite. And I warned him.”

You feel a little bad for laughing but you keep picturing it in your head.“ So your defense is that you warned him? Tasha that does not make it better. I’ve never been electrocuted but I imagine it’s not a good feeling.” You say through more laughter.

That falls short when you see the way she’s looking at you. A glimmer in her eyes and a smirk on her lips.

Her eyebrow quirks,“ Tasha?” 

You did just call her Tasha. Said it as if you’d known her forever and it was just what you called her.“ I’m sorry I-”

“It’s fine. More than fine.” She assures you.

Neither of you had paid much attention to the time, until the bartender comes over to tell you that they’ll be closing soon.

Finishing her drink, Natasha looks at you,“ still fill like a walk?”

You nod and follow after her out the restaurant.

Quiet settles over the two of you again and it opens the door for your thoughts to pick back up. They range from how much fun you’re having with this woman, to the hopes of there being another date, to the thought of this progressing beyond just that, to getting to know her more and liking everything else you learn.

And then you remember what Bucky had said: there will always be things you don’t know.

As your feet carry you down the path Natasha notices the, near foot, of distance between the two of you. Then focusing on the frown knitting your brows the way your finger taps against the strap of your bag.

She can admit that she doesn’t like how quiet you’ve fallen. Especially not after how talkative and open you’d been just at dinner. 

“You’re being uncharacteristically withdrawn again.” She points out.

Hearing what she says, you quickly direct your gaze to her. You notice the small smile on her lips so as not to intimidate you and the demanding worry in her eyes.

“Sorry I’m just-” you cut yourself off with a deep breath.” I guess I’m thinking too hard about something Bucky said.”

What it was she doesn’t need to know, if she doesn’t already.

The inside of her eyebrow raises,” funny statement coming from someone who’s avidly told me to ignore what others have to say and focus on my own opinions.”

“Well that’s not the same.”

“How so?” She replies quickly and challengingly.

“It’s-” nothing. You have no rebuttal because it’s the same.“ Okay the scenario application is similar.”

A smug grin plays on her lips and she takes that moment to step closer to you. Her teeth nibble on her bottom lip as she thinks, before asking,“ have I done something to make you rethink things?”

The pause you take scares her a little. She runs through your past interactions in search of where she may have hurt you or done something wrong.

“No, you haven’t. I’m just- you didn’t exactly make things easy in the beginning. And everyone is different so I didn’t expect you to be as open as I am it just makes me a little hesitant. I’d be lying if I said it wouldn’t hurt for you to be all in now only to pull away later.”

When you’re finished you spare a glance at her from the corner of your eye. Taking in the way she’s looking ahead and not faltering in a single step.

She nods,” I see how my actions haven’t proven to be dependable.”

You scoff and chuckle at the same time,” no kidding.”

A little laugh escapes her,” I can’t promise you that things will be easy, especially not with me of all people.” 

You don’t expect it to be but you keep that affirmation to yourself as she continues. 

“But I can admit that I value our relationship, what it has been and can be, and I’ll try, harder if need be, to make you feel secure in what this is.”

Natasha Romanoff, diminishing fears and insecurities with a single smile and honest words.

Heat rushes up to your face and you duck your head, focusing on your shoes instead of the woman who has not ceased to make your heart pound. 

Coming to a halt, you reach over and grab her hand before you can think yourself out of it. Your hit with that warmth from before and you wonder why you hadn’t held her hand the whole time. 

“I trust that you’ll keep your word.” You tell her.

Trust is still a growing concept to Natasha. You know that. It’s why you chose those words. And she knows it.

It’s why she so quickly pulls you into her and plants her lips on yours.

And this was the epitome of what Natasha could make you feel, so far at least. That warmth from her hand was nothing in comparison to her soft pink lips on yours.

You take a hold of her waist and press closer just a little more in hopes of this not ending. But you both have to breathe of course.

When she pulls away, her eyes slowly open to catch yours.

After a moment of silence she says,“ I wonder how my therapist is going to react to the news of me seeing someone.”

Grinning stupidly you tell her,“ something tells me she thinks it’s more than okay.” 

******

taglist: @username23345 @muffliat-o  @aaron-despair @natasha-danvers​ @wildhoney32 @criminallyhamilton @fayhar @nat-km-mh @chicken-wang09

[brasskier]

@badthingshappenbingo trope #3 (and this one was actually requested!)

Thank you to the incredible @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde for reading this one over for me!

Trope: Suicide attempt

Summary:  Yennefer's just running a few errands, and doesn't expect to end up talking Geralt's bard down from a rooftop. Jaskier is ready to leap, and doesn't expect a certain mage to interrupt his grand finale. Both of them might just walk away with a better understanding of one another. (Or, a character study in borderline personality disorder.)

TW for suicidal ideation/threats/gestures and reference to self-harm. The descriptions aren’t graphic and he doesn’t actually jump, but this whole fic deals with suicide and mental illness. Be safe y’all <3

Read it on my ao3 or below the cut:

The trip to Tretogor wasn’t supposed to last long. Replenish her stock after the utter disaster that was the dragon hunt, some odds and ends as she came upon them, maybe get absolutely shitfaced and forget the whole thing happened. That was all. And it looked like, for a pleasant change of pace, there weren’t going to be any complications. Errands finished, Yennefer was enjoying a hearty roast at one of the better taverns in the city when she noticed the early warnings of a brewing commotion. First murmurs, then the voices grew louder and more persistent, and then people were pushing outside. She ignored them; a petty barfight was not something she particularly wanted or needed to get involved with. The bar was still stirring, and eventually when she finally shifted her focus off her roast, the tavern was near-empty, only the drunkest of patrons remaining. Even the barkeep was shuffling outside. Clearly, something was happening. Something big. With a beleaguered sigh, she pushed up from her chair and headed out the door.

A surprisingly large crowd greeted her outside, more expansive than the usual clamor around a simple drunken brawl. She approached the barkeep, standing on the outskirts of the mob, and she didn’t even have to speak before the barkeep jerked his head skyward. She traced his gaze to the roof of a towering building casting its shadow over them.

“Poor sod’s gonna jump, I reckon,” the barkeep ruminated, eyes still fixed upwards. In place of the massive beast she fully expected to be perched atop the building stood the figure of a man, trembling at the very edge of the roof. She squinted, an uncanny familiarity settling into her gut.

She mumbled her half-hearted thanks, already pushing through a portal to the rooftop. The man, still frozen in place on the opposite edge, didn’t seem to notice the sudden company, and her uneasiness grew into a sinking dread.

“Jaskier?” she called, tentatively, afraid to startle him. Any last shred of hope that she was mistaken (though the intricately embroidered doublet was hard to mistake) was gone when he jerked his head back to face her. His mouth was agape, an uncomfortable mixture of surprise and disappointment drawn across his features. “What are you doing?”

“The fuck does it look like?” He snapped back. There was more than his usual sarcasm or mock-incredulity in his voice, real and deep-felt anger coloring his tone.

“Don’t do it,” she urged, surprising herself with the tenderness in her own words. “Come on now. Just come down.” Why did she care? The question gnawed in the back of her mind, and she did her damndest to push it aside. She’s a good person, after all, right? She’d do it for anyone, surely. None of Geralt’s not-getting-involved nonsense.

“Fuck off, Yennefer.” He let out a barking laugh, thin and breathy, pitching forward ever so slightly with the force of it. She felt her whole body tense, hands reaching out reflexively.

“Where’s Geralt? What happened?” This was, apparently, the single worst line of conversation she could’ve settled on, because he dropped abruptly to a squat and for a split second she was certain she was about to witness the man’s death. 

“I’m not his fucking keeper.” He was nearly at a roar now, a fever-pitch that sent a shiver down Yennefer’s spine. “Haven’t seen him in a week. Not since— not since—” Though she couldn’t see his face, his eyes fixed resolvedly on the ground below, she could hear the tears cut through his words, his breath hiccuping.

“Shh,” she hushed him. Clearly, something had happened after she stormed off. What, precisely, could wait until later, when he was back on solid ground. “I know. It’s not fair.”

“The fuck do you know about fair?” he scoffed, shoulders hunched, arms wrapped around his abdomen against the biting wind. 

“He fucked me over, too.” She should’ve been offended, and she would’ve been if she wasn’t far more concerned with making sure the bard didn’t fling himself into an early demise, which would be decidedly unfair. That sentiment did little to ease him, and withdrew no response. “Fuck Geralt,” she declared, trying again. “Damn brute thinks he can just take as he pleases.”

“And— and then discard you once he’s had his fill,” he mumbled, offering her the slightest glance back, tears glistening against the pink of his cheeks. 

“You’re better than that,” she set forth like a thesis. “You’re — loathe as I am to admit it — talented, bard. People like you. You’ll find plenty of material to write about.” Perhaps an appeal to both logos and pathos would be sufficient, at least enough to get him off the ledge. 

“It won’t be the same.” He frowned tragically over his shoulder at her. “I've lost it all, Yen. Look at me— I'm just a silhouette.”

“That's nonsense. He… you're more than him. He's not everything.” It felt ridiculous to her, throwing yourself off a roof over an argument with a friend. After all, Jaskier had always managed to exist in the spaces between Geralt before; teaching, or penning his next obnoxious ballad, or bedding married women, or whatever it is overgrown manchild bards do. But, then, she'd almost killed herself to restore something she knew she could never get back. So perhaps they were even.

“Look, this is awfully sweet of you, but—” he swept his arm, gesturing vaguely at nothing in particular. “Just let me go. I’m doing everyone a favor.” He turned his attention back to the ground, wind rippling through his hair. “Should’ve done this a long time ago.” She felt her heart skip — a long time ago? This wasn’t just a histrionic reaction to whatever might’ve occurred between him and Geralt; gods knew how long he’d felt like this.

“You know I can’t do that,” she retorted, drawing tentatively closer. “Don’t make me portal you down.” He huffed, waving her off with a trembling hand. 

“Please, Yen.” Realistically, she knew it would be easy to oblige his request. Walk away, pretend not to hear the sickening thud, and carry on. He was only her ex-witcher’s ex-bard, after all. “I always knew it'd end like this. I’m just… I’m glad I even made it past thirty, really.” 

“That’s— I’m not— no, Jaskier. I’m not letting you throw yourself off a roof, for the love of the gods. That’s insane.” She wasn’t sure what was more insane, letting him go, or standing here arguing with him. “You’re going to be real glad when you make it to forty, bard.”

“Am I though, really? This isn’t my first time, believe it or not. And every time I live, or I back out, or I let someone talk me out of it. And I always regret it in the end.” Her mind reeled again — every time? How many had there been? She pushed the thought back.

“You won’t find out unless you get down,” she argued, drawing closer still. He tensed, sensing her presence, hands balling and unfurling repetitively. “Come on. Go to the tavern with me, get something to eat, have a—” she was close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath now “—more drink. I’ll be out of your hair in the morning, and if you still regret it, well…” 

“Fine,” he finally agreed on the tail end of a sigh, turning to fully face her. “I’ll do it tomorrow.” She didn’t like the resolve with which he said those words, but he was agreeing to come down, which at least was a small victory. She’d handle tomorrow when it came around. In the meantime she needed to get them both down. “Or eventually,” he tacked on as she held her hands out, forming a portal back to solid ground. “Inevitably.” The word rang in her mind as she looped an arm around him and led him through the portal. As an afterthought, she summoned a blanket with a flick of her fingers; it was one of those cheap, thin blankets they kept at the inn, but it would do. She tossed it over his shoulders and he dug his fingers into the fabric, drawing it closer around himself.

Once they were back in the tavern, that thin blanket still draped over Jaskier's shoulders and mug of ale held in shaking hands, it was time to talk.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, dragging his thumb up and down the cool tankard, avoiding meeting her eyes at all costs. “I’ve caused such a fuss. You must be anxious to get out of here.” He finally glanced in her direction when he felt a hand land on his forearm.

“It’s fine, really,” she insisted, and he couldn’t bear the pity in her eyes. “Now are you going to tell me what that was all about?” He huffed a laugh, looked away again.

“It’s just, you know. Me and my theatrics.” He shrugged, running a hand along his jaw.

“Bullshit.” When, exactly, Yennefer had gotten so good at seeing right through him, he wasn’t sure. But he did know he definitely didn’t like it.

“I’m sorry. I just, I… I get like that, I guess,” he muttered finally, dragging his thumb along the rim of his glass.

“Suicidal, you mean? You just get… suicidal?” She raised a skeptical eyebrow, moving her hand up to his shoulder.

“Yeah, I guess.” He reached blindly, dropped a hand over hers. “When something goes wrong. Someone leaves me again. I just, I fuck up a lot, and I’m no good at dealing with the concequences.” 

“That’s— gods, I know you’re an idiot, but that’s really worth killing yourself over?” She tried to keep her tone light, clipped, maybe a little detached. He was uneasy with the attention, it was obvious, and she was also certainly not ready to admit that maybe, just a tiny bit, she sort of cared about him.

“Geralt, he ran me off,” he mumbled, sinking further into the blanket. “After the hunt, after your fight, he blamed me. For everything, the entire two decades of our, well. I guess it wasn’t friendship.” He chewed at his lip, a nervous habit, anger bubbling below the surface at the thought of that day. “Told me the greatest gift life could give him would be to take me off his hands.” Yennefer balked at him, finally hearing the context of his despair, and she was just about ready to portal right over to wherever Geralt had fucked off to and give him a piece of her mind.

“That’s terrible,” she told him, the best she could really offer. Nothing she could say would undo what’d happened, and nothing could change how much it hurt him. “He really is a bastard.” Jaskier nodded slowly, raised his tankard up in toast. “When’s the last time you ate? You must be starving.”

“Stew would be nice,” he replied quietly, meekly. She haled one of the barkeeps, ordered him a stew, and requested another round of drinks. “It’s not just the fight, though,” he added once the server was gone. “I don’t know how to explain it, Yen. Why I do the things I do, or feel the way I feel. It’s just, it’s all too much sometimes, you know?” She knew. All too well, she knew. She was only just beginning to understand herself, just beginning to feel some semblance of control. He was so young — perhaps not by human standards, but comparatively. 

“I know. It’s hard.” They felt like empty platitudes, like she had no idea how to truly connect with him, and it was frustrating. She wanted to help him, but she wasn’t sure how, wasn’t sure he wanted it. 

“Yeah.” He bobbed his head, picked at the wood of the table. They drifted into silence, neither sure how to fill it, neither sure this was a conversation either wanted to have. The stew arrived, and he picked at it rather than devouring it like he usually did his rations. 

“You know I’m sterile, right?” she finally broke the silence once he’d finished his food and pushed the bowl aside, leaning closer, her voice pitched in a conspiratorial whisper. He nodded solemnly, averting his gaze, watching the light catch in his amber ale. “And you know I’ve gone to great lengths to rectify that, correct?” Another slow nod.

“I know, Yen. I’m sorry, I know you have far more right to be miserable than I do. And here I am, wallowing like a toddler—” She waved a hand to cut him off.

“No, listen, stupid bard. It’s really not about being able to have kids. It’s about the fact that I don’t have a choice, that I’ve never had a choice,” she elaborated, hiking the blanket further up his shoulders as it started to slip.

“I know. And here I am, I’ve gotten everything I wanted. I got to choose; running away, going to Oxenfurt, becoming a bard, traveling. Gods, I followed Geralt to the ends of the bloody Continent for two decades of my life I’ll never get back — but that was my choice.” 

“Would you please let me finish my point, instead of interrupting me to wallow in guilt?” He gnawed at his lip, finally turning to face her. “It wasn’t about being a mother, it was about choice. So this—” she waved her arm dramatically, wondering for a moment when exactly she’d started picking up his mannerisms. “This isn’t about Geralt at all, is it?” After a moment of contemplation, he carefully shook his head. “Then what is it about?” 

“I don’t know, to be honest,” he muttered at the tail end of a swig from his tankard. “I’ve just always been like this,” he said with a sweep of his hand, palm upturned, string-callused fingers twitching aimlessly. Her violet eyes bore into him expectantly, and he felt angry for a flicker of a moment — she was a witch, right? He should be able to just sit back while she delves into the darkest crevices of his psyche, let her root around and not have to struggle to put his life into context and language. “Can’t you just, y’know…” He tugged at his fingers, tilted his head.

“Read your mind?” she finished the question, scooting closer to him, and he felt the hair on his arms rise. “Are you sure that’s what you want?” He nodded, and she pressed her forehead against his, pulling him in close, enveloping him in the lilac and gooseberries he knew Geralt loved so much. He understood why; he felt inexplicably safe, even as the logical half of his brain urged him to pull back. This was all for show, and he knew that— she didn’t need to touch him to read him. Either way, he was grateful to not have to give language to the nameless, that she could just see.

See Jaskier at seventeen, screaming at Valdo from across the courtyard, "if you leave me I swear the fuck to melitile I'll kill myself," knowing he's made this exact threat verbatim so many times Valdo can't believe him, unable to recall what they were even arguing about anymore. When they break up, his mother tells him the first heartbreak always hurts the worst; it hurts all the same every time thereafter.

Jaskier at twenty, slicing thin lines into his thigh for what had to be the millionth time, running out of unmarred skin, witcher/tentative friend asleep somewhere beside him in the darkness. If asked, he’s not sure he’d have an excuse. Sometimes to feel something, sometimes to feel nothing. Either way, this uncertainty is what keeps his wrists clean.

Jaskier at twenty-three, wailing great, hiccuping sobs, shoulders rattling, blind beyond teary eyes. Geralt, gods bless him, doesn’t know what to do, stands arm’s-length away, regards him with uncertainty and pity. They’d fought about something that didn’t matter and he couldn’t remember, and that rage washed over him, red-hot, balled fists trembling at his side. “Get out! Gods, are you thick? Leave, Geralt; I fucking hate you.” But then Geralt listened, because Geralt didn’t play Jaskier’s games, and now there he was, sobbing, babbling, “don’t leave me, I’m sorry, I’ll be better, I can’t lose you, it’ll kill me, don’t go.” Geralt stays; they pretend nothing ever happened.

Jaskier at twenty-seven, at the ashes of his latest burnt bridge, just another failed relationship that feels altogether more like death than separation. Grieving it more like death, too; sobbing until he could do little more than stare at the ceiling and try to breathe, mourning a cemetery of mistakes and a lifetime of failure.

Jaskier at thirty-two, depression blanketing him with the fresh snow, the man he'd tangled up his entire identity in fucked off to the mountains for the winter while he sludged through classes, distracting himself from having to confront the fact that he doesn't recognize his own face in the mirror. Jaskier does exist in the spaces between Geralt, but, sometimes, that Jaskier is a husk.

Jaskier a few days ago, marching back to Oxenfurt because that's all he knows, doubtful Jaskier even exists anymore, the emptiness in his mind unbearable and somehow terminal, altogether certain he's been incompatible with life from the very moment he entered it and resolved to rectify nature's mistake himself. 

Jaskier who, his entire life, has felt everything, too much, all at once. Who's always been led by his heart — and not in the beautiful, Romantic way, but messy, tragic, and uniquely Jaskier. A man so utterly at the mercy of his own mind, drowning in feelings he doesn't have the language to name, his entire being defined not by who he is but what he does and who he loves. 

Jaskier, on a rooftop in Tretogor, itchy feet ready to fling him off the ledge. He'd told Valdo once, in the in-between hours not quite night or morning when everything seems strange and far away, that he knew how he was destined to die. Pressed on, even as Valdo chuckled and called him presumptive, “I'm going to kill myself.” Not today, or tomorrow, but inevitably. He said it not with the certainty of someone who's seen into the future but the cynical resignation of a man who knows no other escape. And Valdo punched his arm, told him not to talk like that, promised it would get easier one day. He hates Valdo now, not that he remembers why, and that day has yet to come.

She pulled back eventually— finally — and swept a shaky thumb over his cheek. He chewed on his lip, staring expectantly with hauntingly wide eyes. 

“Jaskier.” It was barely a whisper, uttered at the end of a sharp exhale, and when violet eyes met his they shone with an uncanny recognition. He wasn't sure what, precisely, she'd seen, but he knew whatever it was had been enough. He'd invited her to the bleakest corners of his mind, and now she regarded him like a lame horse. He ducked his head, but she caught him with a hand on his chin. “You know that's not how destiny works.”

“Hmm?” He wracked his brain to figure what she might be referring to, coming up empty-handed. He didn't have a big, grand destiny like she or Geralt did. He was just Jaskier the bard, Jaskier the one-night stand, Jaskier the disappointment. 

“It doesn't have to end like that. You have a choice,” she elaborated, still painfully vague, but he understood. 

“This isn't the first time, Yen, I—” 

“I know. I saw.” Right, she saw, probably everything, and he had the wherewithal to feel humiliated for it. 

“I've cheated it enough times. I can't outrun it forever.” It felt nice, at least, to let his walls down a little, stop playing the perpetual naive optimist. Almost a relief, even, a weight off his shoulders. 

“I know. But you're strong, Jask.” She moved her hand from his chin to the back of his head, guiding it to rest against her shoulder. “We have more in common than I thought, you know.” He laughed, thin and heady, but with a little more conviction this time, and pressed his face against her neck. 

“Is that your way of telling me you're fucked up, too?” He asked, and, despite the levity in his tone, he truly was curious. 

“Yes, bard,” she hummed, reaching out to sip at her tankard.

“You're not going to give me any more than that?” He fought off a yawn, pressing the back of his hand against his mouth. “I just told you everything.” 

“Maybe someday,” she replied, setting the mug back on the table. “But right now I think you could use some rest. We both could.” She slipped out of the booth and he let his head tilt back against the wall, mourning the absence of her warmth. 

She returned a few minutes later, room procured, and hiked the blanket back over his shoulders as he reached for his lute and followed after her. It was a nice enough room, two beds on opposite sides, a bath he had no intention of utilizing. Exhausted, he kicked off his boots, shrugged off his doublet, and dropped onto the bed. He let his mind wander, dozing as Yennefer readied herself for bed, eyelids heavy by the time she blew out the candles.

“You won't try again?” Yen asked from across the room after a while, barely a silhouette in the faint moonlight. Jaskier rolled over to face her, finding her staring distantly out the window.

“You, uh, you have to be more specific,” he muttered, tugging the blanket closer to his chin. It smelled of lilac and ale. 

“How am I supposed to make that more specific?” It came out sharp, like her usual tone with him, but he could still feel an uneasy twinge to her words. 

“I mean, I don't know.” He felt stupid for reasons beyond his grasp. “Not today, or tomorrow. But I can't promise never.” There was a long pause, and Jaskier barely breathed, wondering if he'd managed to upset her as sleep crept up on him. 

“Not today is enough,” she said finally, sounding almost far away, and his breath hitched in his throat.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, voice thick with impending sleep. “When are you leaving?” The me he omitted at the tail end rang in his mind, unspoken but understood, heavy in the nighttime silence. She was supposed to leave in the morning, so he could either move on or finish what he’d set out to do; he wasn’t sure he wanted her to uphold that promise anymore.

“Not today.” He exhaled slowly. Not today is enough. And maybe, just maybe, enough not today's would add up to never. 

[terrorandtales]

Detached...

I’m alone. All alone. I spent this holiday season alone crying between countless naps, mimosas, smokey highs, and worried calls from my family. Alone. Depression at it’s finest. In it’s darkest hour, it’s darkest form.  It comforts me into a sleepless null. Alone. It’s dark and cloudy here. Bleakness over-takes each breath. Alone. I stare at all the holiday joy on my phone and wonder how lonely everyone else really is. Alone. I miss this place of brokenness. A broken home we created together. Alone. Even though I felt lonely with you I still had your shell of a presence. Alone. Will it feel better than this? Alone. I travel to the local bars in hopes of not feeling lonely. I get lost within the drink of choice for the evening. Swirling the stir stick in my whiskey neat. I'm hoping it'll show me the path out of this dark place. As if my drink can become this magical oasis of sound advice. Detached, unbothered by the lack of color in my life. I feel like a ghost. Alone. I’m so tired of my heart being in such despair. I’m silently suffering in my waking life. Here, within this space of honest comfort, I can find myself and console what is hurting. I can face the truth. I sat by the beach today and stared out at the water. I wanted it to swallow me whole. I wanted to disappear. Alone. I just want to close my eyes and wake up to a hot summer's day. This winter is killing me slowly. Where is this going? What’s the point of trying so hard, just to feel like this constantly? I have spikes of joy here and there. I still smile and laugh, but like a bad aftertaste of gin, the sadness soon comes and washes over me. Alone. I’m submerged in this battle within myself. Trying to find my center and live in the in between. Swinging incredibly low and feeling this heaviness is draining, but swinging the opposite direction to the point where I feel like I’m soaring. It’s so cruel to feel the highs and it isn’t enough to just have it for a mere moment. Alone. This is the moment I need to be in though. So when those humid summer nights return I can say with certainty that I took this time to face myself. I need the waves. The chill of a winter's day. I need to understand this part of me and heal her. Alone. Here’s the problem though… What if I just want to sleep and cry all of the time? Wouldn’t that be easier to just get lost within this deep sadness? The what ifs are bullshit, because here I am with no answers. No clarity. Just a feeling from the Universe telling me to keep putting one foot in front of the other. To keep weathering these chilling winter days. Alone. My tear stained cheeks, emptiness, and wanting to finish this bottle of wine are all I can manage to be in this moment or so I thought… I wanted to drown away all my sorrows, you, everything. Now I understand and know I need to release this heaviness to the Universe. Please take me back to the beach. Where the waves drowned out my thoughts. All I had to do was sit and watch the waves. I want to turn off this broken record. I want it to stop. I feel like I still don’t know what to do with my life, but sitting here listening to the waves crash against the shore helps drown out the constant ringing in my ears. Alone. If I focus on the horizon, the cold sand beneath my feet, my breath, maybe just maybe I can find my way back to the in between. Maybe just maybe I’m exactly where I’m meant to be. Alone. I'm on a journey one sets out on to find oneself again. Alone. I feel my strength beneath the surface of these waves… 

[owl-with-a-pen]

This one has been on my mind for awhile. Perhaps one where brainy has to go away and he leaves Nia in charge of the D.E.O, I can imagine she wouldn’t be the best and crack under pressure haha. Love your stories 💜

- This might be a little different to what you imagined, but I thought I’d set this with Nia heading a mission instead of the whole of the DEO. To add even more tension, I’ve set this scene somewhere post 5x10, so Nia and Brainy are on rocky ground. Thanks for the prompt! x

When Brainy had first proposed Nia take charge of a DEO operation, she’d laughed it off pretty easily. 

It was only when his was response was to stare at her, one brow raised in confusion, that her face fell.

“Wait,” Nia said, clearing her throat awkwardly. “You’re serious?”

“Undoubtedly so,” Brainy said, narrowing his eyes. “Did I- did I phrase that in a comedic manner?”

Nia blinked. “No. No, you – you sounded serious. I just, I’m finding it hard to believe.” She gestured at herself. “Me? You want me to run a DEO mission? As in, control your agents?”

“That is what leading a mission pertains, yes.”

Okay, now he was being sarcastic. Although, Nia had to admit that it was becoming increasingly harder to tell ever since the whole inhibitor thing. Honestly, Nia hadn’t known what to think when Brainy had summoned her to the DEO that afternoon. On all accounts, he’d been doing everything in his power to evade her ever since their break-up.

A part of her hadn’t wanted to come. She was a vigilante, and though Supergirl had ties with the DEO, considering recent tensions, Dreamer tried to avoid the organisation where she could. There were people on the streets that didn’t trust the DEO for a variety of reasons, even in this new-Earth hellscape where everyone had been brainwashed into loving Lex Luthor. There were humans and aliens alike out there that were still dubious of Lex’s agenda and, who could blame them? They were right.

Nia could have pretended that was the only reason for her apprehension, but who was she kidding? Seeing that text from Brainy, asking her to see him after literal months of radio silence, didn’t sit well with her. She still got a lump in her throat anytime she saw his name pop up on her phone, and felt a crazy surge of butterflies in her stomach whenever he turned up in person after an alien altercation, even if it was alongside his legion of DEO personnel.

It shouldn’t have been this hard, but it was, and she knew why. Despite Brainy’s attempts at acting cold and detached around her, there was still something so incredibly warm behind his eyes, something he was fighting hard to keep hidden from her.

Why the hell he was doing it, Nia didn’t know, and she shouldn’t have cared. Letting it eat her alive like this wasn’t helping anyone. If he didn’t want to be with her after what had happened… then, she had to accept that.

Even though she hated it. Even though she couldn’t help but question whether encouraging Brainy to ditch his inhibitors had been the right call at all. She didn’t think she’d seen a real smile touch his lips since that night at Al’s bar. Didn’t think she’d seen anything other than a deadened exhaustion on his face since he’d stood inches from her in her apartment and torn her heart in two.

Now, whenever Brainy opened his mouth, it was only the Director of the DEO who spoke. Not her best friend. Not her-

No. Not her boyfriend. Not anymore.

She’d pushed that all aside to come here, but now she was really beginning to regret that decision.

“Why me?” Nia asked finally, folding her arms.

Brainy mirrored her stance, lifting his chin. “I calculated a ninety-six percent success rate with your leadership on this mission. The alien we are looking for has psychic abilities closely matching the signature of Naltorian dream energy. Thus – dreaming of our target should be incredibly easy for you.” He shrugged. “Your other powers will prove proficient in the field, too. You can protect and guide my agents better than anyone within this organisation.”

“Wow, Brainy,” Nia said stiffly. “That nearly sounded like a compliment.”

“It is a fact,” Brainy said, although for just a second, Nia was certain she could detect a tremble behind those words. Brainy swallowed quickly, as though to cover himself, before lowering his voice. “Will you do it?”

“Of course,” Nia said immediately. “If I can protect these people, then of course I’ll do it. I’ll always help you—the, um, the DEO, I mean. I- I’m happy to help.” Nia could feel her face beginning to warm all over again. She winced. “You know what I meant,” she muttered.

“I do,” Brainy said, although something in his tone suggested that he wasn’t referring to her promise about the DEO, either.

Nia elected to ignore it. Instead, she rolled her shoulders, straightening her back. “Okay, then,” she said, curling her hands into fists. “When do we start?”

                                                         ______

In the next thirty minutes, Nia found herself packed away in a DEO-issued  vehicle alongside half a dozen field agents. The rest of her team were in the van tailing directly behind them. Every agent was decked out in unmarked uniforms, bullet proof vests, helmets, plus a full inventory of energy guns shared out amongst them.

In her costume - no helmet, no vest and certainly no guns - Nia suddenly felt seriously underdressed. She flexed her hands a few times, staring down at her gloves. She had to remember why Brainy had asked her to do this. She didn’t need fancy energy guns. Her abilities were her energy, and they were necessary to bring this alien in safely. She could do this.

It didn’t matter that she didn’t remember any of these agents’ names, or that the sense of camaraderie in the small space was pretty much non-existent, she just had to be a leader.

If Kara could take charge in times of crisis, then so could she. The only thing stopping Nia was the anxious knot balling inside of her stomach.

You can protect and guide my agents, Brainy’s voice reminded her. It wasn’t exactly the motivational speech she’d been hoping for, but under the circumstances, she’d take what she could get. Even still, she couldn’t help but wish Brainy had come on this mission with her.

But, oh no, he was the Director now. And he had other matters to attend to.

At least, that was the excuse he’d given her.

“Did you hear me?”

Nia’s head jerked up, right into the no-nonsense, stone-faced expression of the DEO agent sat opposite her. She realised belatedly that the van had stopped some time ago, and that her fellow passengers sat closest to the door had already started climbing out.

“I said we’re here,” the agent said, jerking his chin towards the door.

“Oh,” Nia said, shifting from her seat. “Great.”

Yeah. Not exactly the all-powerful words of a full-fledged leader. She gritted her teeth, straightening up as soon as she’d jumped out of the car.

“Alright, Nia,” she muttered to herself. “Your time to shine. Don’t screw it up.”

She marched out to the agents grouping up outside the two stationary vehicles. They’d parked in what could be best described as a cement graveyard; nothing but dilapidated buildings for miles – perfect squatting grounds. It was exactly where Nia had dreamt that their target would be hiding out.

“Okay,” Nia said, trying to put as much power behind her voice that she could muster. She’d stopped just a few feet ahead of her audience. The moment that she spoke, every set of eyes had turned to her. Some of them… more dubiously than others. Mostly, though, they seemed to be waiting on her instruction.

Which… which would be great, if she even knew where to start.

Normally, Super Friend patrols were comprised of, like, three or four people at most. And even then, they usually ended up splitting up throughout the night.  But, there were so many agents in front of her now, all here for just one alien. If a dozen DEO agents went in there at once, there was no way they wouldn’t end up spooking their target.  

God, vigilante work was way stealthier than this.

“So,” Nia said, clenching her jaw. “Plan of action, we need to find this alien. So, um, split up?”

“Are you asking us or telling us?” one of the agents muttered. He was rewarded with a few smiles and poorly disguised snickers.

Frustration flooded Nia’ chest. She opened her mouth, more than prepared to snap out a remark of her own, when another agent raised their voice.

A young woman, maybe only a few years older than Nia. “Normally, we run recon first,” she said helpfully, gesturing out towards the buildings. “To get a lay of the land.”

The look in her eyes clearly expressed that she was less than thrilled about the other agents’ behaviour towards her. Nia’s jaw relaxed a little. “Sounds good,” she said, nearly offering a thumbs up before thinking better of it. Instead, she threw her hands hastily to her hips, offering an impromptu hero stance.

“Is this your first time doing this or something?” the same agent as before asked, this time loud enough to be heard by all of his peers.

Nia bit back the urge to respond.

Unfortunately, that didn’t stop the wash of murmurs that followed the agent’s insult.

“Great,” the agent at his side whispered. “No one said we were gonna get stuck with the side-kick.”

“Hey!” Nia snapped, taking a step forward. “I am no one’s side-kick, okay? In fact, I’m your best shot at fighting this enemy. Do you guys even know what you’re up against?” Nia lifted her hands out at her sides, feeling a powerful surge of dream energy crackle from her fingers, curling around her hands in vibrant shades of blue.

Immediately, the agents in front of her straightened their stances, their expressions sobering. Any chatter was cut off outright.

Nia grinned. “Exactly. Your enemy has powers like this.” She clenched her hands, allowing the power to simmer in the centre of her palms before petering out entirely. When she was confident she had everyone’s undivided attention, she narrowed her eyes. “Your Director asked for me to keep you all safe, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. If anyone has a problem with that.” She threw her hand back towards the stationary vans. “Feel free to get your ass back to the DEO and tell Director Dox exactly why you left an active mission with your tail between your legs.”

When no one moved, Nia folded her arms, lifting her chin proudly. She caught the small smile of the female agent from before, and had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep a straight face.

“Right,” Nia continued. “Now you’ve got that out of your systems, let’s get to business. Recon.” She jerked her head towards the agent who had started the trouble in the first place, narrowing her eyes playfully. “You; take four of your team and go up ahead, scout the exterior of the building for any movement. Remember, there could be civilians out there, so we do this carefully. I expect all your guns to be on stun only and not to be used unless you’re completely certain you have our target in your sites. Got it?”

The agent, who had been gawking at Nia’s hands and very little else, nodded his head. He turned towards a few of his fellow agents, flashing a couple of fancy hand signals which they quickly responded to, flanking him on both sides.

As he brushed past Nia, he paused, glancing at her warily. “You – uh – didn’t get any bad dream senses about this, right?”

Nia rolled her eyes. Now he was taking her seriously. Better late than never. “Trust me,” she said sharply, “you’re fine. Like I said, I’m here to keep you safe.” She stared at him levelly. “All of you safe.”

“Right. Sorry, ma’am,” the agent said, ducking his head as he righted his gun. “It won’t- it won’t happen again.”

Nia only nodded, watching carefully as he headed out with his team to survey the area.

Once most of the agents were out of sight, only then did Nia allow herself a moment to smile.

Maybe she’d never run a DEO mission before, but maybe that didn’t matter. Brainy had said it himself, after all, this mission’s success depended on her.

But, this wasn’t about what Brainy thought. Besides, it certainly didn’t seem like he cared.

Although, maybe…

Nia shook herself. No. Thinking about what he’d said, the way he’d said it would have to wait for another day.

Today, she was gonna be the best team leader the DEO had ever seen.

[relv07]

moonfire

I am so incredibly excited to be posting my fic for @noragamibigbang​ !!!! You can read it here on AO3. The first half is up now and the second half will be posted before Saturday.

Title: moonfire

Summary: Iki Hiyori discovers a guy passed out on her twelfth-story balcony one morning, and her life just gets stranger from there. AU, Yatori.

I had so much fun working on this piece; it’s my baby. It’s my first time writing anything this long (novella-length) and I’m super excited to share it with everyone! Huge thanks to my betas @puffkiine and Nightshade, who have been so supportive and patient. Also check out @lumiccu‘s INCREDIBLE art here !!

First chapter is under the cut!

In Tokyo, Yato thought, bars were secret places.

He became faceless and nameless when he entered; no one bothered him or tried to engage in conversation. They only cared if he could pay. He felt like a minnow, swimming against the pungent waves of sweat and alcohol-infused breath long enough to grab a seat at a booth in the corner. There were people everywhere; university students toasting with beer, worn-out salarymen with their ties loosened drowning their sorrows in sake, old men laughing at the bar. He watched, feeling detached from the scene even as he became part of it. He ordered some sake and tried not to wince at the price. He’d been spending a lot of his meagre savings on alcohol lately.

Especially after his birthday. After the fires had started.

After an hour or so he acquired some drinking buddies, two university students who couldn’t find anywhere else to sit. They were around his own age and seemed friendly enough. At the very least, even though they were both well put together, they didn’t give Yato strange looks for the clothes he knew were ratty and worn.

“What do you do for work, Yato-san?” one of them asked—he thought his name might be Hirano, but by then he’d had a couple beers and their names were becoming hazy memories.

“Odd jobs,” Yato answered easily, popping edamame into his mouth. He was drunk enough to not care about the reaction that telling the truth about his lack of steady work usually elicited, but it was still kind of Hirano to merely nod.

“We’re students at Keio,” he said. “I study political science, and Take studies business.”

Take—or as he’d been introduced, Arashi—gave a small grunt of acknowledgement from next to Hirano. He’d done four shots in quick succession about fifteen minutes ago despite Hirano’s suggestion that he space them out, and now seemed to be focusing most of his willpower on not puking.

“Do you know each other from university?” Yato asked, feigning polite interest.

Hirano smiled as he adjusted his glasses, seemingly pleased that Yato was engaging in his small talk. “Yes, we belong to the same club.”

Arashi snorted. He seemed to have recovered from his nausea and now appeared pleasantly buzzed. “He’s got a crush on the president,” he informed Yato conspiratorially.

“I do not,” Hirano retorted, the pink hue on his cheeks betraying him. Yato snickered.

As the night wore on and the noise of the bar became a fog in his head, the small talk faded away into the camaraderie of people who might have known each other for years instead of mere hours. Yato slowly began to forget his worries and gave into the pleasant haze of drunkenness. He hadn’t had work in weeks, friends to help him in Tokyo, or even a place to stay the night—but these things seemed suddenly inconsequential, like they were facts about someone else’s life. He was warm, safe, and everything else seemed to fade away, especially when somehow or another they started singing a drinking song.

“In July for Tanabata I’ll drink sake! I’ll drink, drink, drink, drink, I’ll drink some sake!”

Their voices raised together in a raucous symphony. They were attracting the annoyed attention of other bar patrons, but by this point they were all too drunk to care.

“In August it’s hot so I’ll drink sake! I’ll drink, drink, drink, drink, I’ll drink some sake!”

Yato’s voice was getting hoarse, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It was the first time in weeks that he’d felt anything approaching happiness.

Abruptly, Arashi’s head fell on the table with a clunk. Yato and Hirano stopped singing, and Hirano shook his friend lightly.

“Are you okay?”

“Mmph,” Arashi moaned. “Head hurts.”

Hirano laughed and turned to Yato. “Looks like he’s done for the night. My apologies, but I think I’d better get him home.”

Yato offered him a companionable smile despite the disappointment settling in his gut. “‘Course! I’ll help you get him out.”

The three stumbled out of the bar and onto the street. The air was unseasonably cool for August, and he shivered at the feeling of the wind in contrast to the stifling air inside. Yato zipped up his jacket and cheerfully (if a bit woozily) turned to his companions. Hirano was supporting Arashi, who drooped against his right shoulder and mumbled incoherently as he waved around his bag of take-out.

“I’ll take him home,” Hirano said, offering a genuine smile. “It was nice to meet you, Yato-san.”

“You too,” Yato said, and meant it.

Hirano waved and set off towards the station, Arashi stumbling alongside him. Yato remained where he was, enjoying the night air. The moon was bright and near full, half hidden behind wisps of clouds, and it was late enough that passersby were dwindling in number. The Internet cafe where he was planning on crashing for the night wasn’t too far away, but since it was so pleasant outside, he decided to take a walk.

He didn’t know the area very well, so he picked a random direction and set off, feeling comfortable and content. It was incredible what a night of good company could do, he thought. He realized belatedly that he hadn’t asked for Hirano’s number, but it was probably for the best. He didn’t like to have ties to Tokyo. Even here in the Aoyama neighborhood, where he was easily two hours away from his childhood home, he couldn’t help but feel the urge to look over his shoulder, constantly feeling like somehow, his father’s eyes were on him.

He shivered. Tomorrow, he decided, he’d go to Yokohama. At least that way he could look for work—he never advertised in Tokyo, always tried to remain unseen and unheard, but his savings were starting to run dry. He kicked a stray pebble down the street and wondered ruefully why he had bothered to come back to Tokyo in the first place. Only bad things had happened since he’d arrived.

His mind wandered back to the night of his birthday and the charred bed he’d left behind in Ikebukuro. Even since that first time that he’d woken up in flames, he lived in constant fear of it happening again—which it did, six times in total since then. The very real possibility of spontaneously catching on fire certainly didn’t help much with his desire to stay hidden.

But the night air was cool on his feverish face, and he didn’t want to think about that.

He’d taken a turn onto a residential street, and the noise of the main streets faded away into a distant hum. It was quiet and dark, lit only by occasional street lights, any businesses having long been shuttered for the night. His footsteps echoed lightly down the street, accompanied by a faint chorus of crickets, and he glanced down the street to watch for cars as he stepped onto the road. He tilted his head up to meet the occasional gust of wind. His head felt fuzzy, but rather than being pleasant, it was starting to become uncomfortable.

He thought of the people who were sleeping in the homes he passed, safe and warm with their families and loved ones and, despite himself, felt a bit jealous.

Suddenly, it felt like someone had struck his head with a hammer, and he doubled over from the pain of it. He stumbled and managed to catch himself, but the pain was still there, pounding in his head, and he was soaked with sweat.

He was sick, he realized with sobering clarity. Dizzier than he should be, considering he hadn’t drank too much—at least, not relatively. Paranoid visions of someone slipping something into his drink danced at the edges of his vision, but in the haze he couldn’t tell if they were real or not. He spotted the familiar glow of a vending machine and stumbled towards it, reaching clumsily for his change purse—and then he dropped it, coins scattered everywhere, and suddenly he was vomiting in the bushes.

He coughed wetly and, wiping his mouth on his jersey sleeve, scooped up a handful of coins—but his fingers were shaking, his vision doubled, and the vending machine took coins only one at a time. He breathed a shaky sigh when the total finally reached 100 yen, and the cool water was a welcome reward for his efforts. Yato leaned against the vending machine and breathed in the night air.

He had to keep moving, he knew. Even if he was just drunk, he didn’t want to get arrested for sleeping on a vending machine (though the idea currently seemed very tempting) and worst case—if he was drugged—someone would be after him. The thought sent an unwelcome rush of blood pounding through his head, and with it a second wave of nausea that he managed to fight off. He finished off the water in three quick swigs, tossed it in the receptacle, and braced himself against the vending machine as he stood.

“Damn it,” he muttered. His head was pounding, and with the pain came paranoia. You just drank too much, he reassured his nerves. The sake was strong, or didn’t mix well with the beer, or something. It’s fine.

He was all turned around now. He was pretty sure the Internet cafe was somewhere to his right, and with it a place to sleep, maybe even a shower if he was lucky. He started down the road, then stopped, frowning. He turned around and went the opposite way.

He was getting deeper into the residential areas- and his headache was getting worse. Yato gripped the side of a streetlight and willed his vision to clear. He had a niggling feeling that he was going the wrong way. His head felt as though it was trapped in a vice, and he was so dizzy—he focused on his feet, putting one foot in front of the other in deliberate motions. The world was a foggy, painful mess of dark and light, and he squeezed his eyes shut even as he walked, delicate in his movements.

If he had been more aware, he might have noticed the unnatural sense of calm that had come over him. The pain was still there, but it was becoming lighter; freer. Like it was a part of him, like it had always been a part of him, like it had a purpose. He giggled. His head hurt. His feet were moving, but he wasn’t in control of them anymore, and he watched them, idly, like one might watch the pigeons peck at the sidewalk.

“In No-vem-ber no-thing hap-pens, but I’ll drink an-y-way,” he murmured, matching the syllables of the silly song to his steps. The blood was rushing in his ears and it was all suddenly very funny.

“I’ll dr-i-nk sake, drink, drink, drink, drink…” he trailed off. He was getting sleepy. His body felt very light all of a sudden, very floaty. He watched as one foot left the ground, and then as his other foot left the ground...and suddenly, he wasn’t on the ground at all. He smiled and let his eyes flutter halfway closed. He didn’t have to move anymore, he realized languidly. He’d just go where he needed to go. Up, up, up.

Someone was watching television in their apartment on a blue screen—the next was dark, and so were the next few, and then there were a group of people sitting together, their mouths stretched in laughter. He reached out and traced the line of the building, his fingers skimming against the cool brick—then there was a balcony with lots of plants, and a balcony with laundry still out, and a balcony with nothing but a single chair, and a balcony with nothing at all, and then, and then, and then he reached out, and he grabbed the edge of the guardrail, and gently hoisted himself over it. The concrete ground was cool under his face, and he felt a sense of total, faithful security, even as he fell into a dreamless sleep.

[autumnblogs]

Day 10: I think the true purpose of this game is to see how many qualifiers we can get to precede the word "self" and still understand what we're talking about

https://homestuck.com/story/1642

I don’t think anyone has said much about Calsprite. There’s not much to be said. I’m pretty sure, based on the Juju rules, that this Lil Cal probably doesn’t count as the real one - supposedly, any version of a Juju from a Doomed Timeline doesn’t count as the real thing? In any case, it’s a very mild comfort that this being isn’t a source of even more power for the already arbitrarily powerful Lord English.

Another thing that I think is interesting to note is that Dave’s use of iPhone technology marks him, in my opinion, as a poseur. While I am by no means advocating against buying from Microsoft’s competitors, but Mac vs. PC is one of those parts of my childhood, and as an actual IT Professional I’ve learned more than a little about the way that they brand themselves and the history of Apple’s struggle for market share - Apple doesn’t advertise its products as computing alternatives, or as productivity software, or whatever - Apple sells a lifestyle. Apple products are styled as the sexier, more cerebral, more artistic, more individualistic alternative to Microsoft’s products, a computer not for the Office Drone but for... well, the Hipster. Hipsters have stopped really being a thing, or at least, nobody calls themselves that any more.

Like the vast majority of subcultures, I suspect the hipster subculture has kind of been swallowed by time, its symbols expropriated by Capitalism, its center hollowed out and its aesthetics packaged for mass production, as the cynical and jaded approach to popular culture of the hipster, along with its more enthusiastic counterpart “the geek” (actually pretty well personified by John!) became more mainstream - both stereotypes are probably a part of Homestuck’s general commentary on fandom. Fandom is something I think Homestuck talks about, but I don’t think it’s something Homestuck is about in quite the same way that it’s about, say, Narratives, or Reproduction.

More after the break.

https://homestuck.com/story/1643

While Homestuck has been a story that involves some time loops, Act 4 is where it really gets off the ground as an actual Time Travel story. The thing about Time Travel stories, like the thing about Cosmic Horror Stories, is that once a story starts having Time Travel, or Cosmic Horrors in it, it’s that genre forever. This is why DND, for example, is part of a cosmic horror story, because something like 20 years ago, an adventure writer decided that there should be the Far Realm, and now it casts its sticky pall over the rest of the game’s setting.

Homestuck sidesteps this issue largely by involving all of the genres that do this to a story, and just kind of blending them all together into a genre-busting stew. Homestuck is a superhero story. Homestuck is a creation story. Homestuck is a theogony. Homestuck is a cosmic horror story. Homestuck is a time travel story. And so on and so on.

https://homestuck.com/story/1657

And so began one of the greatest partnerships in the history of Paradox Space.

Also of note is that Terezi compares Dave to fire here, not the first or the last bit of symbolism linking him to that element. It’s pretty strongly linked, in general, with The Hero, in kind of the same way that the color Red, and the Sword is in these sorts of things.

Dave fits the Classic Hero Archetype a lot better in a lot of ways than John does, and Bro has been training him for that role since birth. On a much larger scale, Lord English has decreed from his position as the overlord of Paradox Space that Dave is the Hero who should defeat him.

https://homestuck.com/story/1663

Friendship proves once again to be one of the most powerful forces in the universe, changing John’s direction, and steering him away from disaster.

https://homestuck.com/story/1667

Not much to say about this conversation, but the transition between Karkat’s explanation of the Veil and the beginning of [S]Jack: Ascend is smooth as fuck.

https://homestuck.com/story/1670

Our very first self-indulgent author self-insert; the Fourth Wall is explicitly identified as a Fenestrated Plane. 1 Point for the Narrative Contrivance hypothesis.

https://homestuck.com/story/1692

Dave actually does care immensely. Not only does he spend a ton of his time being overshadowed by cooler more powerful men like Bro, and John, now Dave even has to spend his time being overshadowed by cooler versions of himself - and that goes in both directions - both Davesprite and Dave seem to think that the other is the more real, more cool Dave!

https://homestuck.com/story/1710

As a Light Player, Rose is preoccupied with Meaning. She sees it everywhere, and she certainly sees where it is not (at least when she is not Miserable with a capital M). Meaning and Value - Fortune - is not intrinsic to this item, but it is instead bestowed upon it by the fact that Rose loves it, and by the work that Rose put into it. The Rabbit is a labor of love and a treasured belonging, and the Love in the Rabbit is the Light that the Seer Sees.

https://homestuck.com/story/1714

I’m pretty sure that John and Kanaya only talk to each other about twice in all of Homestuck, which is a bit of a shame! John and Karkat are really a lot more alike each other than either of them is comfortable admitting (which I think is probably why Dave is attracted to Karkat). By the transitive law of friendship, it seems to me that John and Kanaya would probably be pretty good friends. On the subject of the other diagonal line in the quadrangle of friendship, I wonder if Rose and Karkat talk to each other pretty much ever?

https://homestuck.com/story/1715

The clear indication here is a parallel between Dave and Sollux, but like a lot of things that probably didn’t go as intended with the Trolls, nothing much ends up materializing from it. I suppose that by fucking off to do nothing for the rest of the adventure, Sollux gets to live Dave’s dream for him, so there’s that.

https://homestuck.com/story/1720

Adorable. This is one of the happiest little moments in the comic.

So often, characters are cut off from one another by moments. They just miss each other, or literally can’t understand each other because of supernatural shenanigans, or can’t communicate with each other on screen because of the way that communication can’t happen unmediated in Homestuck.

And even when they can talk to each other, often the awkwardness and pain of communicating with other people, of trying to get them to understand you the way you actually are, instead of only seeing you one certain way, is too great, and communication proves impossible.

But here, Rose and Dave don’t need words to hang out.

They shut up and jam.

(It’s also incredibly sweet that Rose‘s actual in-person esteem of Dave is so great that she cannot restrain her own thought process. For all her joshing, she really does think Dave is cool.)

https://homestuck.com/story/1722

Also incredibly sweet that Rose’s first order of business as soon as they’re done playing around is to destroy that goddamn puppet.

https://homestuck.com/story/1754

Just missed him.

https://homestuck.com/story/1775

I wish not to contemplate the implication that Homestuck Sprite Mode Legs are actually wafer thin.

https://homestuck.com/story/1812

Nearly as soon as Rose has awoken and absorbed herself from the Doomed Timeline, she gets down to business alchemizing a lot of dangerous and powerful artifacts in preparation to fuck shit up. I’ve never thought about it much before, but I think it’s not hard to say that the memories she absorbed from the other timeline cause Rose to embrace her more reckless and less charitable side. She comments on her own dangerous pursuit of power, and then immediately ignores that train of thought.

https://homestuck.com/story/1836

Dave sure is fixated on bottoms.

https://homestuck.com/story/1852

Note to self. Come back to this.

So far, the only thing of note is the number 12, a portent related to the victors of Homestuck, if only coincidentally.

https://homestuck.com/story/1857

Dave’s sincerity senses are tingling. Maybe it’s an instinct since he and Roxy are pretty similar people, maybe it’s just because Dave himself is not nearly as insincere as he wants to be.

Dave’s anxiety about being watched is also probably best exemplified by his insistence on hiding his eyes behind glasses.

https://homestuck.com/story/1887

Adorable!

I wonder if Andrew already had the sprite designs for these squirts, and their names picked out at this time.

The hair and accessories are certainly correct.

https://homestuck.com/story/1895

Before I get too much further into this sequence, I’d like to pause and take a second to just appreciate this prose. The style is captivating.

The shipping pun is also pretty good.

https://homestuck.com/story/1903

BladeKindEyeWear has already done a pretty good job explaining what the Ultimate Riddle is, so I won’t belabor it too much more than he has here. The Ultimate Riddle itself is, “What Will You Do?” And the answer to it is, “Do What You Will.”

Do What You Will isn’t just the inscription on AURYN, it’s also an extremely old phrase intended for spiritual enlightenment, historically first formulated by Saint Augustine in his Sermon On Love, where he puts it thusly, “Love, and Do What You Will.” The Love that Augustine is talking about is not Romantic Love or even familial love, but Universal Unconditional Love - goodwill toward everyone and everything, to have one’s Heart’s Desire be that everyone should flourish and be happy.

Another formulation, the Wiccan Rede is, “An It Harm None, Do What Ye Will,” perhaps a more detached, declaration. In either case, the Will here is not talking about merely chasing simple wants, but an invitation to follow one’s true will, not to respond to simple passions, but to take voluntary action in accordance with who one is as a person.

https://homestuck.com/story/1905

threatening.............

https://homestuck.com/story/1922

Jake Harley begins a life of serial abandonment.

https://homestuck.com/story/1930

I really should have brought this up first when Rose and Davesprite went back into time, but this is about the time Homestuck starts to get lousy with all kinds of alternate selves, Dream Selves, Doomed Selves, and so on and so on, and from a narrative frame of reference, they’re actually all literally the same guy - the actions of one version of a character inform us about all versions of that character.

More on that later.

https://homestuck.com/story/1931

More Roleplaying. John has a wild imagine spot.

https://homestuck.com/story/1934

Dave stares at the blood on his hands, and contemplates his death for a long time.

https://homestuck.com/story/1936

Some immediate foreshadowing in here. Jade, I’m pretty sure, is one of the few people in Tavros’ life who shows him some genuine unconditional friendliness, so it’s no wonder that he latches onto her.

The way he does is still pretty creepy though.

https://homestuck.com/story/1940

As long as I’m mostly focusing on the emotional dimension of Homestuck, the two major emotional beats in this Flash are the Sovereign Slayer slaughtering WV’s army, revealing the source of his self-loathing and trauma, and the death of Jade’s Dream Self.

The death of her Dream Self is not nearly the beginning of Jade’s Trauma Conga Line, but it’s definitely the first in the chain of events that leads her to finally snap out of her learned helplessness and blind optimism, and to start taking her fate into her own hands. She’s been so sure of her destiny up to this point, and now things are finally starting to get out of hand.

Also, I choose to believe that the bizarre Squiddles interlude is the first moment that the Dark Gods make contact with Jade’s psyche. They know she’s about to die, and they’re starting to communicate with her.

Anyway, that’s all for today.

Yesterday’s cough turned out to be post-viral infection, since I had Covid the week of the 11th, so for now this is Cam signing off, Medicated, and Not Alone.

[wtfzodiacsigns]

My Experience With the Signs (Reprise)

Aquarius: They have a commanding presence to them that to some is intimidating but not to me. You stick to your “one way of doing things” far too much. they act emotionally detached even when everyone knows they’re the most sentimental person in the room. some of them get on my nerves with their one track mind, but for the most part we get along. they’re the type to say eww guiltlessly when you say you like something really lame (if they dont then they’re the lame one). don’t really get irony for some reason either. they dont understand how you can be ironically into something really stupid, like saying you ironically listen to journey or hall and oats sometimes.

Pisces: its a 50/50. Either I love you or I can’t stand you theres no in between. they all have high morals and will really push them on people. this isnt a big problem unless their logic makes absolutely no sense which happens. they can be very intelligent but this can lead some to become overzealous. they’re smart, empathic and very compassionate. they are equal parts capable of being my favorite person or me just wanting to kill them due to some of their know-it-all natures and ridiculous logic. they’re the type where you can chain smoke talking about every topic under the sun with for 7 hours. so long as you don’t offend them which can happen pretty easily. make one innocuous joke or comment and all hell will break loose.

Aries: we would be cool except you make every issue about you. I admire your ability to stay positive, almost to a level where i fear you’re actually just ignorant of the problem completely. they’re good at making light of other peoples situations, but if something happens to them that they don’t like, its as if the whole world has to go on hold for them to figure it out. they can be really exhausting this way and come off as being super self absorbed. these are the type to call you at 4am saying “guess what just happened to me.”

Taurus: honestly not much has changed. you are still lazy and still prefer netflix and your bag of cheetos to hanging out. but regardless, they’re level headed and easy to talk to. they love to use the blame game to explain away their problems so they dont have to put work into adjusting their behavior. they have sound logic and ideas and can be that friend that you make a meaningful glance to across the room when the person you’re talking to is full of shit. nothing phases these people. until something does. then all hell breaks loose and they are insane.

Gemini: (i dont know many so im sorry if this is an unfair bias) out of all the ones I’ve known, they’ve all sucked. they manipulate and lie to get what they want from people. usually control. every picture on their facebook page is of themselves. they think they’re really talented and special when really they’re just a methhead trying to pick up underage girls with their guitar at a party they weren’t invited to.

Cancer: they’re all super sweet honestly. prone to being down on themselves and making their poor self esteem painfully obvious. they can get defensive and close themselves off even though you really just wanna hug them. tend to make poor relationship choices though they usually dont figure that out til later. really just fun to be around and drink half a bottle of tequila with. you can really tell them anything and they won’t judge you. a wholesome bean.

Leo: the person who cuts into a conversation because you haven’t said their name in five minutes. these are a bit of a mixed bag. the ones who dont have any control of their ego are unbearable: naiive, arrogant, selfish, self centered, etc. but the ones who are aware of their own egos are typically nihilists who like really weird anime and rip on themselves to make them laugh. the self aware ones have this “dead inside” air to them but not in a depressing gloomy way just in a confident “life is meaningless so fuck it” way. also I’ve never met a female leo who wasn’t gay so theres that masculine sign bringin the gay.

Virgo: they overanalyze too much and it makes them anxiety ridden but they dont do anything about it. they can be critical, but trust me they criticize themselves the most. they can be pretty blunt, and its a good trait only about half the time. they are secretly very emotional though most will never know that. they are dying inside but are super good at faking it and turning it into a joke. range from being overbearing to overly detached in about half a second. people don’t really perceive them the way they should in both directions good and bad. they stick to their ways but not in an aquarius or taurus way, but more of a “I am at a loss I dont know what else to do” way. typically very understanding and kind but not at first. it takes time to get through that prickly cynical exterior. they’re moody and typically get way too caught up and drown in tragedies. if something bad happens they never forget and they let it follow them to their grave. they’re the kind of person where you can lay on the hood of their car at night listening to beach house talking about how cool space is. (true story)

Libra: another 50/50. they both make me the angriest most miserable person on earth and also happy to the max. they love passionately when they’re actually in love but are prone to cheaty behavior which they never address. They get caught up in what people think of them without realizing it and it makes them act irrationally. they have a habit of trying to get someones attention or respect by covering up their true selves and adopting all the interests and hobbies of the person they admire, basically a chameleon. this makes them seem fake. i wish they would just embrace who they are and be themselves because literally everyone on earth would prefer that. some, usually the men, can be extremely arrogant and think they’re the greatest thing ever at everything with no evidence. they can be incredibly insecure and have all sorts of weird ways of covering it up. can be manipulative. very flirtatious which is great if you’re interested in one and really not great while you’re dating them. don’t really understand the concept of emotional cheating, probably because they do it so much and dont want to look at themselves as cheaters but they are.  if you find a loyal self aware libra with integrity and self respect though, my god they could rule the world through their ability for kindness and love.

Scorpio: I can be good friends with them but dating them is always a poor choice. they can be pretty oblivious and a lot of them get caught up in trying to look cool. its not because they care what people think its for some weird unknown self serving reason. these people can surprise you in all kinds of ways. because they keep themselves pretty low profile you never really know what they’re capable of. they’re unpredictable that way. they are pretty slutty in frivolous relationships, but once they commit they’re pretty attached. almost to an unhealthy degree. like they could get beat up, cheated on and abandoned by their partner and still love them (true story. like 3 of them). honestly though, usually just dorky memelords who wanna argue with you about politics and music using alien conspiracies as supporting evidence.

Sagittarius: oh you fiery eyed beauties. the independent ones are the best ones. they can talk all kinds of shit and not give a fuck better than anyone and its amazing so long as you’re not on the receiving end of it. the lazier ones are usually more clingy and unsure of themselves and usually use that fiery energy on their loved ones and themselves which isnt as fun. they are the greatest best friends. they know exactly what to say and when and they are the type of person where if you tell them you got cheated on they’ll go find the bastard and light their car on fire. essentially, a punk rock sagittarius can’t be topped by anyone. just stay away from the alcohol because you are so prone to being an alcoholic like please stop we love you.

Capricorn: usually very sweet. like to the point where you wonder if they’re “okay.” they will put up with some ridiculous shit from people. if you need emotional support though ask a capricorn because they will be there. usually like to keep in charge of themselves and accomplish their goals in their own kind of strange ways. usually neat and clean and smell good. they’ll buy you pizza and not ask to pay it back. if you upset one enough to leave your life then you’ve fucked up big time because they will put up with just about anything.they are precious keep them close and protected. I only met one i didnt like and they literally ended up the person i dislike most out of the whole human race that I’ve met. so i guess this means they’re just as capable of being complete asswipes as they are being squishy marshmallows.

Source: nanothestrange

[legobiwan]

I was the one who asked that last question about the light vs dark and i loved the answer you gave. I hope you don’t mind me asking another. What do you think makes the darkside so difficult to turn back from? Speaking from my own personal experience with mental illness (depression, anxiety, diagnosed anger issues. All of this from birth) in know that all those things can send a person to a very dark place. 1/

Not literally like with the force, but it can do that to anyone and it’s like doing a muscle man marathon to get out of it. It takes incredible strenth to dig yourself out of it and sometimes it’s easy to NOT want to get out of that suffering, painful state because you get so used to it. 2/

I subscribe to the idea that force sensitives constantly have enotions being filtered back at them, even their own which is why they all have to be in control of their their emotions, because if they let emotions like rage and hate and fear and pain and grief and all those things you frequently feel when dealing with those kinds of things, it gets reverted back at you and you are stuck in a cycle of all these negative things the dark side feeds on. 3/

Imagine dealing with all of that as a normal person and then having this echo chamber of it directed back at you and some, i’m guessing, semi-sentient dark side that feeds on that and tries to bring you down deeper. I think another part of it is 1.) Sunk Cost Fallacy and 2.) as you said about Anakin fir example: “well, i ate two cookies, might as well eat the whole bag”. 4/5

I’m sorry this turned out WAYY linger than i originally intended. I’d like to hear your thoughts (i always do) about maybe why the dark side is so hard to pull away from. 5/5

Oh hello again, friend! You ask such intriguing questions, thank you for stopping by!

First off, mental illness sucks and I am sorry that it is something you have had to contend with. I won’t profess to know exactly what you have gone through, but when I was a younger Lego, things got pretty dark for a while, so I do know of that bottomless pit to which you refer and the absolute wrenching struggle it is to dig one’s self out, tooth and nail.

Now, there are a few ideas at play in this question so I want to start with the idea you float about how Jedi feel emotions in the Force as a kind of feedback loop, make one or two detours before getting around to why it is so difficult to come back from the dark side.

“The Force is what gives a Jedi his power. It’s an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us and penetrates us. It binds the galaxy together.”

Yoda basically lays out the Force for us in ESB, describing as an invisible energy field that for me, resembles the way we describe the energy between (and in-between) molecules. And subscribe to the theory that all sentient are at least a little Force-sensitive, if they are able to lower their own barriers enough to listen for that heartbeat, that rhythm and song of the universe (music of the spheres, in a way.) But for the Jedi, well, they are on a whole other level, and to my mind, that barrier I just referred to is a whole lot more permeable, no longer a dense, velvet curtain, but a gauzy, diaphanous veil separating two planes of existence - the one we know and some unseen dimension of energies made, if not visible in the strictest terms, visible to the mind’s eye by metaphor.

In this little scenario I have set up, then, let’s say our Jedi is happy. Simple happiness. If our reality is a glass of water, this one emotion is a drop of food coloring, let’s say green, which, when dripped into the water is coalesced around the focal point of the droplet (the droplet being the emotion within the Jedi) and then branching outwards with its tendrils, beyond the Jedi themselves. In this way, the Jedi can almost see their own emotion outside of themselves. But, of course, at some point, the food coloring will overtake the water and turn the entire glass green, in which case the Jedi has been subsumed by their own emotion unless they can erect some particular carriers around themselves. This, in Yoda’s words, would be control. (A vaguely problematic term that I will get to in a little bit.)

But without that barrier, it does become a bit of a feedback loop, the Jedi (or Sith) broadcasting an emotion which then clouds (aha!) everything around the Force-sensitive who can then feed off that cloud and repeat the entire cycle ad nauseum. And well, we know where that can lead. And so, in a way, that semi-sentient voice that is whispering poems of power, words draped in seductive scarlet into our Jedi’s ear is really their own voice, turned back on them, taking this outside form as a separate being because of this strange feedback loop.

The seeds of our own destruction - and salvation - lie wholly within us.

And so to escape the dark side’s pull, its suffocating cloud, one must, in a way, come out of themselves. Which is what leads us to the Jedi idea of detachment and control, to build that barrier which I referred to earlier, that space of nothingness where our green dye is repelled by that shadow of oxidation, where it can exist on the outside without feeding back, so one might be able to look at it as a scientist might - without passion.

Now, the thing is - and if I may go on a tangent for a moment - the Jedi, especially the Jedi we know during the Republic, refer to this too often for my taste as control, and prefer to totally bleach out any of the dye rather than observe from the outside. To my mind, the Order had become a bit polarized in the wake of Ruusaan Reformation, eager to stamp out any bit of dark side rather than to acknowledge each being’s duality - something Yoda himself rally only came to when he had his adventures with the Force priestesses. It also explains, to a degree, why he is so laissez-faire in The Last Jedi - finally, he has come to true balance, and knows that the universe swings on a pendulum of energy, that light and dark will settle and unsettle again. I know TLJ gets a bad rap in some circles, but I personally adore the way they approached Force philosophy and the Jedi, because balance, to the Republic Jedi - was good, good only. Which is why it was referred to as control.

But seeking control in a universe where we can never control, ultimately, is an of fear, which leads to anger, and etc. 

However, your question is not about the foibles of the Jedi Order, but rather the dark side. Let’s take Anakin as an example. Anakin falls prey to his worst tendencies (and he is powerful in the Force, his connection with that other plane perhaps too strong, his ability to influence it unprecedented but also that open conduit making him more susceptible to everything I mentioned above.) He’s angry, he’s upset, and he turns that first on himself and then takes that fear and turns it on others, burning down the outer world with his inner. But he saves Luke. A fantastic act, but only a single act. Does one life saved balance out the atrocities of the previous twenty years? 

To my mind, no. It’s like those studies they’ve done on reform, where it is often found that behavior changes before mindset. Meaning Anakin has to go through the motions before he is truly redeemed. That, to my mind, is one of the hardest parts, because you can’t just flip a switch and say, hey, I’m light now! Look at Ventress - it took her a while just to get to morally grey and she wasn’t nearly as full-fledged dark as Anakin got. Look at Dooku, who started out grey and through his actions, through his own need for control, fell further and further until he walked right into his own demise. (And this is astounding for a man so intelligent.)

Note, I’m not even touching on that unearthly drug, adrenaline, that anger can unleash, sparking up all those dopamine receptors and as a Force-sensitive, this is only going to be multiplied by a thousand. It’s probably like doing hard drugs and there’s a reason they say the dark side is addictive. And we all know addiction is one hell of a beast to fight, that even in the throes of anger, the hangover must be brutal, emotionally and to give that up to turn light? 

Not easy. Not easy to do alone and the problem is as a Sith you have basically pushed everyone else away so who going to be your support if you even want to recover? (Note how Dooku was always trying to connect with his students. It says something.) And you know, if Anakin hadn’t died on the Death Star, despite everything, I think he would have had the best chance at redemption because Luke would have been there. It would have been a terrible, exhausting experience for all involved (not to mention Leia, who did not have Luke’s soft spot for her biological father, and for very good reason.)

Although after going on about all of this, I will say that from an author’s perspective, exploring a character’s fall and struggle is such an opportunity, narratively. But then again, I love to joke that writing is cheaper than therapy :D 

[cinnbar-bun]

RFA + V+ Saeran Acting As a Guardian to Teenage! MC

A/n: Have some headcanons to soothe the pain I just caused

Under the cut since it’s a long one! MC is about 16 in this one!

Also: might include some spoilers!!!

Yoosung

Finally, he wasn’t the youngest anymore! 

He was so excited to meet you and honestly he was all sunshine and rainbows as he talked about how you were like a little sibling to him

So gushing and doting, he’s more of an older sibling than a parental figure, but he still does it so well

Always brags to his guildmates he has the best sibling ever, and he will fight (and lose horribly) to anyone who tries to say otherwise

Very concerned over you since you’re so young and caught up in the RFA’s mishaps. 

So proud of anything you do, even getting out of bed makes him cheer for you

Always cooks for you, anything you want, he’ll make for you. 

He won’t admit it until he’s at his worst- when the depression and the grief from losing Rika really gets to him- but he looks up to you. He kinda gets jealous of how young and talented you are (even if you don’t think so), and wishes to become better so you have someone actually worthwhile to look up to (in his mind). 

He doesn’t seem to think that you like him, he still assumes he’s a bit of a nuisance and someone else could be better. You however, love him a lot and value his presence in your life. You don’t think you would’ve been as motivated without his help!

Sometimes he can get a bit irresponsible and you need to drag his butt to bed so he doesn’t game so much. 

Taking care of you has been a roller coaster for both of you, but he still feels a lot better since you’re here. He has cut down on his bad habits and has slowly grown from his past issues. 

If you talk about how you’re going on a date, he’ll cry. 

“Waaaaaahhhhhh!!! How are you going on dates before I am????” 

He’s supportive though, and makes sure your date actually cares for you. Probably the only one on this list you don’t have to worry about when saying you’re seeing someone

Zen

Okay so the first moment you met him on the messenger, you flipped out. 

“ZEN??? AS IN THE ZEN???? JDSFJNAJGNLSJN OH MY GOD CAN YOU STEP ON ME?????”

Jaehee also feels you but outwardly tells you to relax

He goes full on dad mode. He immediately checks himself and everyone else, anything above a ‘g’ rating and he’s flipping out. No more flirting, no more swearing, no more smoking, he’s gotta be a father figure somehow.

Once he cools down, he finds that his paternal instincts come naturally. He is very easy to talk to and is easily your biggest supporter. He wants you to feel confident in yourself and see that he’s got your back no matter what happens, something he didn’t have growing up. 

If you say you wanna act or join theater (especially if it’s because of him) he’ll just cry. He’ll sob about how his ‘child’ is the most precious thing in the world. 

He’s a straight up PTA dad afterwards, always going to your school when he can and checking up on you. 

All the mothers and teachers try to hit on him but he ignores them because his shining little star is there

He goes to all of your shows, all of your concerts, ANYTHING that involves potentially watching you do something, he is there in a second. 

After anything, whether you give a speech or a finished a performance, he’s there with a large bouquet of flowers. He’s so proud of you and he feels so enthusiastic about you. 

His narcissism drops about 200% because now he’s focused on you. His phone is full of pictures of you and your accomplishments, and after anything he makes sure to say it in the RFA messenger. 

He’s really easy to have a heart to heart with because you’re his precious little angel and he’s just as (if not more) emotional as you. 

HOWEVER!!! DO NOT!! I REPEAT!!! DO NOT MENTION DATING!!! THIS MAN WILL GO WALK UP TO WHOEVER YOU LIKE/DATING AND WILL GO INTO A FISTFIGHT WITH THEM. 

He screams when you mention guys- ‘MEN ARE WOLVES!! THEY ARE HORRIBLE!! THEY ARE DISGUSTING DO NOT EVER DATE!! YOU ARENT ALLOWED TO DATE UNTIL IM DEAD AND YOURE 80!!’

Jumin

So, let’s cut to the chase, you REEALLy liked the fact Jumin was rich. 

“Wow, so I DON’T have to starve everyday???” 

Jumin is...not the most emotional at first. He is just getting used to having to take care of you so it will be a while before he opens up. 

Jumin is great for when you want to rant or need to blow off steam. He doesn’t say anything and just listens to you. However, it’s horrible when you want emotional/physical comfort. 

He tries, he really does, but since he grew up so detached with his emotions he immediately thinks you’re dramatic. It isn’t until Jaehee (and perhaps Zen too) step in and say how he can’t keep brushing off your feelings 

So, he decides to try even harder and understand the enigma that is a teenage mind. 

It’s difficult as shit

After a while, he begins to learn all your cues and patterns, and understands what you want when you need it. He can read you like an open book now and knows when he should give you space or step in and comfort you. 

He’s actually really good at it 

He is always pampering you to the extreme. You watch tv and muse, “cool... there’s a new video game out.” and forget moments later, he immediately walks in with over a hundred games and pre-ordered, deluxe gold editions of them. 

He is the prime example of a father figure at this point, and all your friends get jealous.

He only gives you the best and will settle for nothing less. You are practically his own child at this point and like HELL is he gonna give you anything he discerns as not worthy. 

He likes taking you out for nice strolls after you beg ask for you two to hang out. You always get excited at seeing a simple cafe or mannequin with a cute outfit, and he wonders at how nice it must be to be so innocent

Plenty of outlets had contacted him about you, but he makes sure your privacy is secure. He doesn’t want anyone taking advantage of you or getting too personal

But they do manage to capture snippets of you two walking, and some misunderstandings have occurred due to it

“Jumin Han is dating a minor!” 

“Jumin Han has child after affair with mistress!” 

He gets fed up with the rumors and explains right away that you are NOT his lover, and you are NOT his actual child. He lies and says you were the child of a good friend of his, because explaining what actually happened would be weird

He is one of the worst when you say you’re dating someone. He will hound his security guards to watch EVERYTHING you to do, and he WILL have 707 do a background check on whoever you are going out with. 

“What are they doing?” “Uhhh...they’re eating.” “What about now?” “Still eating sir.” “Are his hands visible?” “Yes sir, he’s using them to eat a burger.” “B-burger? Where are they at?!” “McDonald’s sir...” “What kind of lousy date is this, why did (Y/n) accept this, does he think he’s good enough for my child with his peasant lifestyle???” “Sir...they’re 16????” 

All in all, he’s trying to be a good father figure and guardian that he never really had growing up. But he’s so prideful at seeing how much you mature, and even though he’s blunt sometimes, he hopes you understand he loves you a lot. 

He also tries dad jokes, but they’re so weird because obviously he rehearsed it and he says it so stoically that it makes it even funnies. 

Jaehee

Jaehee is a sweet woman, and she is like your best friend and mother rolled into one. 

She is so caring and considerate of your feelings, and is your number one supporter. 

She may seem kinda stand-offish, and kind of annoyed because she’s already incredibly busy now she has to take care of someone else and-

Whoops now she’s in the PTA and runs it like a damn boss. She is all over your studies and fights the faculty if she feels the school is not running in tip top shape. 

She gets exhausted a lot, as Jumin isn’t exactly the easiest boss to work for. 

It was kind of hard at first, sometimes she wouldn’t come home until way after midnight, and she’d see your body passed out on the couch with a note on the table about how you tried to make her dinner. 

Even though it wasn’t the best, knowing you tried so hard to stay up for her as well as cooking for her made the food taste even better than anything a five star restaurant could have made. 

So she tries to make it up to you in any way she can. She’ll pick you up your favorite movie or snack on her way home, or even little cute gifts that reminded her of you. 

She writes down any information she knows about you, and makes sure to write about your friends and teachers so she can keep up with you. 

She gushes about Zen a lot, and you were a fan too, so you both would binge watch his movies and clips of him. ANY piece of media involving Zen was devoured by you two. 

You two were constantly picking each other up and giving gifts, and when it was Jaehee’s birthday, you wrote her a letter about how much she meant to you and even got Zen to sign a poster for her! 

It was also the first time you called her ‘mom’, and even though the Zen poster is proudly hung up in her office, she can’t help but smile at how you called her that. 

She is a huge advocate of following your dreams. She does complain about how awful it is to work for Jumin sometimes, so she hopes to god you do something you love. 

You also convinced her to start her own cafe! You helped her as much as you could, and she was just...so ecstatic. 

Jaehee is easy to talk to, she is always prepared with good advice and comforting words. 

Probably the second easiest to talk to about dating. She is hesitant at first because one, you’re young and stupid, and two, she just doesn’t trust people. 

707/ Saeyoung

Okay, everyone in the RFA was hesitant to allow him to take care of you. They trusted him when it came to his work, but this was an actual human being. He could hardly take care of himself, how would he even take care of you???

Surprisingly, he’s an awesome guardian

A lot of them didn’t believe it at first and they were like ‘blink twice if he isn’t feeding you’ but you shrug and insist he’s great

He’s very nurturing and protective of you, and he sort of sees this as a second chance to make up for when he couldn’t help his brother. 

He’s really good in the fact that he’ll allow you your space to grow, but he will step in if you’re out of line or in trouble

Will NOT hesitate to ruin someone’s life if they dare hurt you. He’s got connections and the prowess and like hell is someone gonna make his child cry. 

Saeyoung is still as corny and crazy as he is in the chatroom, but in these instances with you, he means it a lot. He does anything he can to make you smile, even if it means he’d get hurt. 

He is a lot calmer though with you, and his parental instincts kick in a lot more. The RFA was shocked to see him actually change some of his poor quality of life skills as a means to be a better guardian to you. 

When he needs to go on a mission, he entrusts Jumin or Vanderwood to take care of you. 

He never tells you about those dangerous missions, he only says he’s going to be at a conference out of the country. 

He always makes sure to get you a souvenir or gift when he comes back from those trips. 

Joy rides in his cars!! He loves to take you to the beach or sightseeing whenever he can. 

He stills eats poorly, but it really makes him melt when you offer him some dinner you cooked for him. He started screaming and Yoosung (who was on the other end of the phone call) felt his ears bleed. 

He gets so excited for your cooking, like he stops his work just to take a bite of your grub. 

He hacks to get movies that weren’t even released to the public yet so you both could watch it on your downtime. He’s a hardcore softie though and you still have yet to see him shut up or not sob all over you as you two watch. 

“You’re getting snot on me!!!” “I’M sorry it’s just....oh my god how could this even happen??????” 

You accidentally called him ‘dad’ one time and he lost it. He was jumping for joy and hugging you in a death grip, screaming, “IM A FATHER!!!!!” 

Oh and he will definitely not pass up the opportunity to make some Star Wars references. 

You can’t hide anything from him. He tries to not be snoopy but holy shit you did not know just how far he’d go when it came to keeping tabs on you. 

By the time he was done he knew the name of your first grade crush, an incident where you kicked your own self, and how old you were when you got your first cavity. 

Likewise, he will already know if you’re crushing/dating someone. He’ll pretend he doesn’t know, but secretly do a background check. 

OKay so this definitely happened on your first date out with your crush, you two went out for milkshakes when your phone started sounding like Saeyoung’s voice. 

“HEY YOUNG MAN BOTH HANDS ON THE TABLE NOW!!!” 

You both started SCREAMING and had to be told to shut up by the staff because what the hell, your phone was talking! 

You screamed at him later on to mind his damn business

And god help whoever you were dating if they hurt you. 

This man will go ballistic and start hacking their things like a crazy psycho

“DONT WORRY, GOD SEVEN WILL FIX THIS!!!!” 

But seriously, this man adores you to the bottom of his heart. He’s made many mistakes in the past, but you will sure as hell not be another one of them. Anything you ask of him, he’ll gladly do!

V

V is a great guardian for those who don’t like pressure or stress. He’s so soothing and relaxing.

Hardly will ever raise his voice at you, and he practically never gets angry at you

He can’t see that well, but he seems to have a sixth sense that just makes him know where you are and when you are in danger. 

He likes taking you out to more scenic ventures, maybe even get you into photography as well!!

He has so many pictures of you, you are like his favorite subject

He even made an exhibit just based on you, and after that, he got a lot of calls about who you were. He made sure they know that you are basically his child

He feels incredibly guilty you had to go through this whole mess. He really wishes nothing bad would happen and you just didn’t have to get involved, but you always encourage him and say you don’t mind, you met him because of it!

He melts and cries a bit later on

If you call him ‘dad’ he gets so happy, like he finally feels like he actually did something right for once

But occasionally he doubts himself and can get kinda stand-offish in fear of how he might hurt you later on

He doesn’t make the same mistakes this time, and he makes sure you can get the help you need. He’s not gonna allow you to hurt yourself or others, and he won’t enable negative behaviors. 

He doesn’t talk about Rika to you. That was one of the worst moments in his life, and he thinks you’ll hate him because of it. 

You don’t- and he wonders what he did to deserve you

V is not an idiot. He may be partially blind but oh honey, he WILL know if you are dating someone. Don’t ask how, he does. 

He’s chill about it, but makes sure you understand what you are getting into. He’ll sit you down and start questioning you or your date’s intentions

It’s a side effect from his past with Rika, he doesn’t want you hurt, nor does he want you to hurt someone else. 

He makes you have clear and concise boundaries

He’ll let you do as you please, just please, for everything holy in this world, let him know where you are and be back before 10. 

If you get into a bad breakup he’s there to comfort you but also calls 707 to use his special skillset

I feel like V would use a lot of dad jokes. Like he doesn’t even know where it comes from and he’ll just say one, and 707 flips out.

Overall, just a calm dude who really loves you a lot. You’re allowed to grow and be your own person, but within some boundaries. He’ll stop at nothing to keep your smile. 

Unknown/ Saeran

Okay so... he feels weird. You’re a child. A damn child. 

He gets very conflicted because he gets flashbacks of how he was taken at a young age

He starts off as incredibly scary, staring you down to make you fear for your life, but you notice right away he’s become...softer

If anything, now he feels guilty. You were nice to him, even though he did all these things to you...

Saeran becomes a guard dog to you, watching over you like a hawk. 

As thanks, sometimes you would make him sweets

He loves them a lot, they’re now his favorite things

Pretty soon, a friendship begins to form, and then a feeling of guardianship over you. 

He’s noticeably a lot nicer and softer to you, he’ll be cussing out his brother in one moment but then if you ask him for something, he’ll stop and bend down to your level and answer you. 

Saeyoung finds this incredibly hilarious and nice

Saeran feels a lot better having you around. He feels a lot safer and happier, and knowing that you are safe and happy makes him even more excited. 

He likes gardens, so he takes you to them a lot, and he even decided to start one with you

On special days, or days when you are feeling down, he’ll get you a special bouquet of flowers with different meanings to cheer you up!

Baking is also a special hobby between you two. Sweets in general are where you two bond, so occasionally you two go out and try different sweet shops, cafes, or parlors. 

You two always rank your fave desserts and places

Do not, I repeat, do NOT tell him about/mention/ or even THINK of dating. He’ll probably beat the crap out of whoever you’re dating because, ‘they are not worth it’

Very strict and will throw hands with anyone checking you out- he’s like an angry dog 

Oh dear, if your date makes you sad or upset they will be dead. Saeran will take no shit if they made you frown, and they better start praying for their safety. 

You and Saeyoung have to hold him back before he murders your date

He still has his anxious moments where his past may catch up and he’ll freak out, but you are one of the few that can easily coax him out of it. He’d never hurt you at all

If you refer to him as ‘dad’ I think he might feel his heart flutter but also feel nervous...what if he becomes like his dad? What if he hurts you or can’t protect you? 

He’ll definitely teach you self-defense but Saeyoung will step in when he tries to teach you how to use a pistol because ‘SAERAN THEY’RE 16, DO NOT DO THAT!!!!’ 

He has his days when he’s more lax about you, but also has days when he’s breathing down your neck

It’ll take him a long time to be considered a ‘good’ guardian, please be patient, and gently let him know how he should improve. 

He’s not good at dealing with your emotions. All he knows how to do is punch whatever made you feel sad, but he quickly learns he can’t do that, and takes advice from all the RFA to help you. 

You can fight me but he probably has bought some guidebooks or pamphlets to try and learn to take care of you, and he’s LOST. 

“So to comfort them, I hug them...then ask how they’re feeling? Okay, but then it says they might want space? So how do I know? IT DOESN’T EVEN SAY WHEN! WHAT THE HELL? WHAT A WASTE OF MY DAMN MONEY!” He chucks it across the room before promptly picking it up and trying to read it again

He sees a lot of shows and tries to do stereotypical ‘family’ things, but quickly realizes that neither of you are enjoying it and he breathes a sigh of relief because holy hell that made him so uncomfortable. 

You both are pretty blunt with what you feel so you’re both on the same page, and try to work it accordingly. 

Okay on occasion he’s got you outfits that are similar to his so you both can match and he loves it so much

The most awkward dad jokes. EVER. You’ll be like, ‘hey I’m hungry’, and he’ll remember that he read on a parenting website that dad jokes make your connection stronger or something, so he’ll murmur, ‘hi hungry, I’m dad’. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry because he was in physical pain after saying that. 

You both got a lot to work on, but he tries. Really. And he’s so happy he met you, and he’ll make sure you grow up with a better childhood than he did. Nothing is too big or too small for him to do. 

[thanksjro]

Eugenesis Part Three, Scene Three: The Eighties Weren’t All That Great, Actually

Nightbeat, Sunstreaker, Hoist and Grapple come out on the other side of the wormhole in 1984, on the Ark, just as according to plan. Nightbeat reminds everyone to not touch anything, lest they alter their present, only for that rule to be broken literally immediately.

Luckily, we seem to be working on Elegant Chaos time-travel rules, so things are working out okay.

But how do we know that? We haven’t been in the past for two minutes, surely the current state of the present is still up in the air.

Turns out Optimus never actually intended for any of the robots aboard the Ark to ever wake up or be found. He made sure that would happen by activating the Sidestep Drive- a molecule wiggler that renders the ship completely invisible.

So, Hoist just turned off the Sidestep Drive. He was always intended to, since Optimus had no intention of letting anyone out of the Ark crash alive.

That’s some dark shit, Optimus. I can’t believe this is the same guy who tells dad jokes and shoots hoops with the kids.

The gang splits up to look for clues, leaving Nightbeat all on his lonesome, as he reflects on when the Ark had gone missing. There’d been a lot of propaganda, some of it getting outright bizarre- think along the lines of cannibalism- but at the end of the day, all they’d known at the time was that Optimus Prime and a majority of the Autobot’s finest warriors just weren’t around anymore. He remembers how he’d not been picked for the fated mission, and retroactively feels incredibly grateful for it, despite having been incredibly disappointed at the time.

On a lower level of the ship, Grapple and Hoist are poking around looking for Optimus. Hoist wanders off to make sure his mind crystal didn’t get broken in the crash- Hoist was one of a group of Autobots who had their minds copied and placed onto the Ark in secret, just in case extra troops were needed after launch. It’s fine. Which is good, because it keeps the time-stream from getting too terribly convoluted.

Sunstreaker, on the other hand, is having a horrible time. He’s just found his own mangled body, his face having been more or less erased by an acid pellet that had been fired at him millions of years prior. Nightbeat apologizes, having not considered the fact that Sunstreaker had actually been on the Ark when he’d picked him for this mission. Yeah, that’s kind of a massive oversight, my guy. I can’t believe nobody said anything.

They find Optimus in the same room.

I guess it’s just physically impossible for anyone to write these two bastards without any Undertones™ bleeding into it at some point. “Journeys end in lovers meeting”, indeed.

Nightbeat, he’s a FUCKING SEMI-TRUCK.

While Nightbeat’s busy fat-shaming the robo-messiah, everyone else is busy trying to get him unstuck from Megatron. He makes the call to bring Optimus back online in the future, so he doesn’t have to see how thoroughly wrecked the Ark crew is.

The team carries Optimus back to the future, pall-bearer style. There’s a brief moment of panic when Grapple realizes that they haven’t found Optimus’ trailer, which is also a part of him and shares space in his mind? Weird to think that Optimus’ detachable butt shares his consciousness. Luckily, the reformatting hasn’t taken place yet, so his trailer doesn’t currently exist.

It’s not everyday you gotta kidnap your dead leader from the past to fight a bunch of tentacle monsters. I think I can forgive Nightbeat for being a little short here.

Meanwhile, Sixshot is watching the cleanup of his fellow Decepticons’ corpses via Laserbeak’s surveillance footage. It’s looking grim for the ‘Cons; at least sixty percent of their forces are now dead or imprisoned by the Quintessons. Soundwave’s definitely dead.

Still got my doubts about that, but will see if those doubts bear any fruit.

Sixshot sends everyone away, so he can focus on how scared shitless he is about what’s currently transpiring.

The birth and pregnancy theming is ratcheting up in this Part to an alarming degree. Roberts, you’re obsessed.

Sixshot recalls the last time the Quintessons had invaded, where all of his friends- very powerful, nigh-indestructible friends- had been reduced to crumpled cadavers. He himself had hidden under their bodies, shellshocked to the point of considering self-terminating to save himself from a similar fate. He’s still shaken by the experience, hiding two miles underground in a steel silo, with no intention of ever coming out. He can still hear their screams.

That’s some pretty severe PTSD, Sixshot. Maybe you should make an appointment with Rung to work through all that trauma.

Up on the Conquest, General Quantax orders for his troops to get ready to bring the heat to the Autobots.

Roberts is really over here using the nonsense time units from the comics. This was before they had the Wiki, so he probably had some unofficial guidebook, or his own notes, to work off of. Good on him; that’s dedication to the craft right there.

A breem isn’t even ten minutes. Nightbeat better hurry on home.

Speaking of home, Prowl’s running in the halls like a hooligan, getting everything set up for the impending attack.

This just in, local jackass would rather have all of his friends murdered than face any sort of criticism. More at 11.

Quark comes up to him and asks if they can walk together to the munitions room. Prowl says yes, except no, because he’s already where he needs to be. Prowl, I think he asked because he’s scared, so maybe do the guy a solid.

It seems even the OCs know that Prowl sucks.

You want to be a good leader, but don’t want to put forth any actual effort in making people want to follow you. Maybe you should get a WWOPD? bracelet.

Prowl closes the door on Quark. He goes over to the desk and takes a look at the message First Aid’s left him.

That’s right, I’d nearly forgotten that Rodimus was possessed by the robot devil. Prowl’s pretty irritated by the pronoun game, seeing as Rodimus banned the name ‘Unicron’ from the Autobase lexicon in fear of it rousing the embodiment of evil living inside the Matrix.

If the climax of this book is Rodimus Goddamn Prime giving birth to the Antichrist, I am going to lose my fucking mind.

First Aid goes on to state that they still can’t get Unicron out of the Matrix, so whoever gets it next is going to also be subjected to this unwanted demon pregnancy Roberts what the fuck with this parallel. I know that Unicron basically haunting the Matrix was established in the comics, but come on.

That message ends, and Prowl, like any sane person, thinks long and hard on whether he’s ready for that sort of responsibility. Bold of you to assume that the Matrix would even be interested in your slimy ass.

The next message brings more great news- First Aid informs him that Rodimus had a massive seizure, and more than half of his brain’s been effectively turned to mush. He’s calling for High Command to pull the plug, before they pour all of what’s left of their energon into someone with a eight-percent chance of survival.

You’re really doing this, aren’t you Roberts? You’re going to kill Rodimus Prime. Astounding.

Chromedome calls. The Quintessons are on their way. Lots of them.

[loveisallthatmatterstome]

Clarity, Acceptance and Understanding

This Covid situation has really allowed me to really delve into my thoughts and mind more than ever. Honestly, even though this situation is unfortunate, it happened at the perfect time of my life. I’ve begun to believe in that so much. That everything happens at the right time. Never before in my life have I ever felt so aware of my emotions and feelings. 2020 has lowkey been an incredible year for me. Even if I was only able to live my dream in NYC for a relatively short period, everyday has felt like a dream. I feel alive. I feel things deeply. I noticed my surroundings. I continued my quest to make more sense of this world. There’s been a lot on my mind. But there has been one topic that has been really prevalent as of late. I guess I could start by saying that as I continue to move forward. Understanding myself and others more. Making mistakes. Learning what it means to use those mistakes to nurture growth. The more and more my past becomes clear. I see my past with more clarity than ever. There’s this saying that you truly cannot see things for what they really are while in the midst of them. Only after things have concluded can you look and understand things. Obviously it is also a fact of reality that there is no 100% certainty in answers. My perspective could be really wrong. But, what we could do as humans is to see reality for what it is and try to shape our perspectives of it as true to ourselves of possible. I want to try and see the good in everything,everybody and every situation. What I’m essentially trying to get at is that I’ve reflected on moments of my past and found clarity. I truly believe that everything in my past has led me to where I needed to go. Anyways, I keep going off on a tangent. The topic I really wanted to talk about is the first girl I ever really loved. She’s been on my mind so much lately. I’ve accepted and let those thoughts come to me. I’m not going to run away from what I’m feeling. I feel deeply in myself that I’ve reached the point of understanding and acceptance that I wanted myself to get to.

Even though things have long came to a conclusion. Even though our paths and connection have diverged. I’ve been thinking about her often. It’s insane to me that even months later, she still gives me a platform to learn more about myself. I know she never really did anything extraordinary for me. And that most of the realizations came from within myself. But there’s meaning to be found in every relationship and experience. Sometimes, you have to delve deeply into yourself to find those lessons. I feel like I’m becoming a bit repetitive, but I’ve grown to understand the experiences that I had. I always just wanted to be as understanding of her as I could, even if she never opened up. I made a lot of mistakes. May have said the wrong things at the wrong time. She made mistakes as well. But they were necessary. Mistakes are an inevitability of complex human connections. I’ve been thinking about some of the mistakes that I made. Thinking about the pressure that I had brought upon her. I realized that she was always probably afraid. Of things going wrong. Being cautious with her heart. That if she ever opened herself up, she would’ve never met the expectations that she felt that I had set on her.There was this standard of the idea of what my dream girl was at the time. My whole ‘dream girl’  idea caused a rift for someone who was already struggling to figure out who they were. I bet she always questioned, how someone could love someone that didn’t understand themselves. How could someone understand someone who didn’t even understand themselves. She never asked for me to give my unconditional love. Nor do I think she ever felt that she deserved that.

When she addressed my initial confession after we had met, she said that I was notorious for falling in love with everybody but that she loved that I love love. In an increasingly cynical and nihilistic world, I’ve chosen to risk my heart a countless number of times. She was someone who had knowledge of my whole entire experience with romance. She knew of every girl that I ever found interest in. She even encouraged me on. She knew that for the longest time I would find excitement in someone only for it to fade quickly. I think that was always on her mind. My past experiences when it came to romance. I think she was always expecting me to lose interest eventually, and for me to move onto someone else to crush on. But, when I made the decision to have faith in her, she couldn’t have fathomed it. She didn’t know how to react. I think she always had a fear that she was just another quick phase in my love life. That I would quickly move on.

After reflecting on my love life, my experiences with different people. I understand myself a bit more. Yes, I was notorious for falling in love with everyone, but that flaw has grown into something that I hold dear to who I am. That I want to see the good in others. That I want to show people what is lovable in them, even if they cant see it for themselves. Admittedly, earlier on in my life I lived in idealizations. But I now know that finding something to adore in people’s true selves is something that I strive for. As my standards for what I wanted in a relationship developed, I realized deep down all that I ever wanted was someone who understood me deeply, saw good in me, had faith in me and chose to build something meaningful with me. I thought that she understood me and had faith in me. She came into my life when I didn’t yet know who I was. I struggled so much in my past. I was once a very broken and flawed person. So much has changed in amazing ways but someone who understands where I come from has become important to me. People who meet me now can appreciate the person who I’ve grown into, but its harder for people to empathize deeply with the obstacles that I’ve had to overcome. She knew who I used to be, and I wanted to share my journey with her. I wanted to be there to help her get through her own obstacles. But that decision was up to her. Never before has my life been so full of deep love and happiness, I just wish she was here with me for this. She’s not and that’s okay.

I know that my decisions during this past fall surprised a lot of people who were aware of the situation. I know that not many people could fathom my decisions in the process. I continued to choose faith, even in moments of doubts and hurt. As I decided to continue pour more affection, she began to have more fears. She never felt like I knew her. How could I love her if I didn’t know her. She was right. I didn’t know her anymore. People can change a lot. She made the decision to close herself off. But, I realized even in these situations you can still love someone. I know I loved her. I realized that it was because I had so much faith in her journey because she meant a lot to mine. I hoped for a point where I understood her deeply. Inevitably this caused more internal conflict for her.

Developing feelings is always a risk on your emotions. Although I’ve grown to learn that the risk is always worth it, she wasn’t at the right space and time. She was never in the right place to give the love that I always told her I strove for. I’ve come to understand that. She would always tell me that I deserve someone incredible. At that time, if she never felt like she could live up to that, her internal conflicts would only grow. So she did what was easier for her. She went MIA. Hoping for a slow fade. Hoping for the maintenance of a friendship. But it so happened that the opposite happened for me. I pushed forward. There was no going back. After each moment of doubt I kept my faith. I feel like that’s something that not a lot of people my age can really comprehend, sometimes I can’t myself. This disparity between our choices of action only caused more internal conflict for her. She could’ve never loved me back the same way because she was at the part of her journey where she still didn’t know who she was. While for me, I was at the point of my journey where I finally understood myself. The pace of our journeys were on different wavelengths. She was at a point where there was no way she could’ve pushed forward. Even if she felt undeserving, I realized that she always deserved love, even if she didn’t yet know she was. Even if we find ourselves to be unlovable, everybody deserves wholehearted love. It can help us become who we can be. She deserved the love that I chose to give, even if she didn’t ask for it.

I guess one thing that does sting a little is that even though I tried my best, my decision to let go only confirmed her fears. That things could go wrong. I bet that whole conversation of me deciding to let go shocked her even she had expectations of it as an eventuality. But it needed to happen. A mistake I made was not being there for her. The emotions were strong at the time of letting go. She was already fighting her own fight. From her perspective, I can see how it could be seen as me giving up on our friendship. I could understand how I caused more struggle for her. That fall had the best moments of my life at that point. But I know she was still trying to figure so much out, she didn’t need to explicitly say it for me to know that.

I do believe that she wanted to love me too at some point. I believe in that. She just couldn’t. Even if I pushed forward, she couldn’t. There was no way I could’ve forced it upon her. I’ve come to understand that it only could’ve come from her. We were on different life stages. When I let go, she grew detached. I was at the right time of my life to see the good in the situation. But she was at a point where it was much harder for her. Then there was a period in January, before our final exchange. I feel like the both of us were hurting just a little because our friendship was no longer the same. We moved past a point of no return. When I told her that I felt hurt, it hurt her. I believe that’s why her response was so harsh. She was already hurting. I think me living out my dreams in NYC allowed me to not be greatly affected emotionally by it for the long term. I found appreciation instantly. But I feel like for her, it was harder. The situation put me in moments of doubt and hurt. But i wouldn’t change a thing. It grounded me and made my perspective on love so much stronger. I now know that love is more than a feeling, it’s a choice and an act of faith. I have strong trust in myself now because I hold no hurt or resentment in my heart. I realized that I really loved her. I still do. I know that I don’t know her anymore. But I have deep hope and belief that she can become the amazing person that the universe wants her to be. Even if I wont ever see it personally. I’ve long accepted that things were not meant to be. But that doesn’t mean I will lose my faith in her journey. Having faith in her means so much to me. 

I’ve reached clarity with the situation. I know that people always say that love should be 50/50. But I realized that I have something special in that I can give someone my 100% and still be able to fully give to myself. That in the midst of loss I can still see the good and find love. I hope she reaches this point too. Where she finds love in everything, especially herself. I don’t blame her, and I don’t blame myself. All we could do as humans is have faith in our journeys. No longer are there doubts, only acceptance. 

I hope one day that I meet her again. That I see her thriving and living her best life. I’ll be happy for her, even if it’s just for a single minute. I had a dream that I was walking along a city street far into the future. I locked eyes with someone. I realized that it was her. We just smiled at each other, and both continued walking. Maybe that’s how it will go. I wish her nothing but love and happiness.

I love you Ashley, I never stopped loving you. I hope you’re well.