#i cant stand up for myself and it will be my downfall

[stabyou]

some days i do feel like envy in his little tiny grub form from fmab. i just want love and i’ve been treated so badly by myself and everyone around me and the WORLD even that i have become so bitter and cold and jealous and i hate it. i want the love everyone else has so bad it makes me ill. but i can’t find it because i’m so closed off due to past trauma and friendships that ended badly. too scared of ridicule, too scared of being unliked, too scared of being anything besides what i am now, which is completely alone and devoid of any real human connections. anything else feels like knives. i cant be close to anyone because i feel like i’m putting a burden on them.

my existence is a burden. to be my friend, to be close to me, is a burden that is insurmountable. i wish i could be okay with the loneliness. i wish i could be okay waking up to nothing on my phone. i wish i could be okay without people thinking of me. but i want the warmth so badly. that’s all i’ve ever fucking wanted and i never got it. ever since i was tiny and begging my mom and dad to stop fighting. there was no time of softness for me. i just want to fall into love like a pillow. friends holding a cake that says HAPPY BIRTHDAY (i have never had a single birthday party) and we watch movies and play games and i don’t wonder where the love is for me.

i don’t think i’ll ever be brave enough. so alone i have to be. i’m really sorry to myself for this. i wish i could be stronger and reach out, but my arm is cut off at the crook. i cant reach any farther, i don’t have anything left to give.

[the-traveling-poet]

it’s me again, and I’ve found an idea! Okay so, I’d like to request a Levi x lieutenant reader where the reader is sick but she is as stubborn as a mule and every time someone points that out she just brush it off some way, or elude the questions, until she feels so sick she can barely stand, and ask Levi for help? Thank you Lynn! 🤎🤎

Head-Cold

What started off as a slight cough and a runny nose, now consumed your every waking moment in the form of a head-cold. The worse you get, the more your friends and comrades worry for your health. But you’re fine, right? Your stubbornness to be seen by a medic doesn’t go unnoticed by your Captain, who takes matters into his own hands.

Pairing: Levi x Lieutenant!Sick!Reader

Warnings: Language, sick reader, mention of vomit SFW, fluff, xReader

A/N: Love this idea! Seriously tho the “I don’t need help I’m fine” trope that turns into the “Crush has to take care of you” trope? UNDEFEATED. Also this request is ironic cause I’m coming down with a head cold myself xD As always, if this doesn’t meet your expectations, I’ll rewrite whatever you prefer!

Enjoy~🤎

The moment you woke up feeling nauseous, you knew today was gonna be a great day.

Rolling out of your bed with a stuffy groan, you shuffled over to your private bathroom and took a look at yourself in the mirror. Crusty eyes looked back at you from your reflection, and a red nose drew attention to the color in your face, making you look fevered. Placing a hand on your forehead, you could nearly confirm this was the case.

Mumbling incoherently to yourself, you tried your best to clean yourself up before you had to make an appearance for the day. Before leaving your dorm room, you’d gone through at least ten tissues and wiped your face with a damp wash cloth nearly just as many times. With your hair pulled up neatly away from your face and your clothes adjusted properly on your frame, you put on your best ‘I’m fine’ face and strode out into the hall.

Steadying yourself on your feet, you slowly made your way down to breakfast with the others in your regiment, gliding your hand along the wall to keep your ever wobbling balance.

Shit…Light headed, dizzy, nauseous, runny nose…what’s next, a headache?

You entered the hall and found your way to the kitchens to grab a bowl of what appeared to be soup.

Thank god, maybe this’ll help my poor throat…

You scanned the room over with tired eyes and spotted your fellow superiors sat around their usual table. Stifling a yawn, you trudged over and plopped down near Hange and Nanaba.

“Lieutenant Y/N,” Commander Erwin greeted you formally from across the table.

“Mornin’ C’mander,” you replied back in a stuffy tone, rubbing slightly at your nose.

The conversation happening around you paused, but you were too busy suffering to notice until a hand placed itself on your shoulder. Looking over, you spotted Hange giving you a confused look.

“Y/N, dear…Is everything alright?” they asked.

“Yeah, why?” you asked with a raised brow.

“Y/N, you look sick. Are you sure you’re alright?” Nanaba pestered from your other side.

“Sick? Ehh…maybe. Nothin’ I cant handle doe.” You sniffled, your throat feeling worse from trying to talk in a volume they’d be able to hear you in.

“Maybe you should go to the infirmary…You shouldn’t attend to duties today if you’re ill. You’ll just make yourself worse and possibly spread it to someone else!” Hange’s assistant, Moblit, spoke up from the other side of the scientist.

“Nah, I’ve had a lot worse, so therefor I can’t complain. This won’t kill me.” you argued stubbornly, taking a sip of your soup to hopefully help with the aching pain there.

“You’re sick. I smell it on you.”

You looked up to see Mike joining your table, a bowl of soup in his big hands as he sat down across from Nanaba.

“I’ll be fiiiiiine,” you sniffled, ignoring their concern. You’ve dealt with many hardships in life, both physical and mental. A little head cold wouldn’t be your downfall.

Finally giving into your stubbornness, they dropped your case and resumed their previous conversations. You attempted to follow suit as you ate, but a sudden wave of nausea made you set your spoon back down with a nearly inaudible groan. Deciding you couldn’t stomach anymore, you went to stand on shaky legs and discard your bowl.

Normally you’d let one of the others have what you couldn’t eat, but if Mike was right (and his nose always was) about you being sick, you didn’t want to risk infecting anyone else. Ever you were the considerate one, despite your dismissal of your own issues.

Before you could leave the hall, you found Levi walking in with an empty cup in his hand. After refilling it, he sat near Erwin at your table. He caught your gaze, and you were quick to look away shyly.

“You look like shit,” he greeted.

“Mornin’ Levi,” you greeted back, now trying to hold in a sneeze. As Hange eagerly filled him in on your situation, you rolled your eyes and made to leave the mess hall.

Training wasn’t going to be fun…

══════════════════

Only twenty minutes in, and you were sweating like a pig. In order to catch your breath, you’d had to resort to breathing through your mouth since your nose was completely plugged up and runny.

Great. Just great.

Your legs shook and your head spun as you got off the ground for the nth time. Taking several shallow breaths, you closed your eyes for a moment and silently prayed to anything that might be listening that the torture would end soon.

“Oi, Lieutenant.”

You snapped your eyes open with a muffled ‘huh?’ and came face to face with the gaze of a glaring Captain Levi. He was running the training course today. He stood several feet away from you, not wanting to come any closer after all Hange had told him.

“You shouldn’t be out here training, you’ll make yourself worse. Go to the infirmary,” he commanded.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you tried to reassure him breathlessly, wiping at your brow and nose.

He sighed, punching the bridge of his nose. “The one time I go easy on a brat and they refuse,” he mumbled to himself.

“That’s an order, L/N. Go.”

“You can’t orber me roun’. I’m a Lieutenan’.” Your stuffy voice was getting worse, paired with the scratching of your throat.

Another frustrated sigh left the Captain, but he really wasn’t in the mood to argue.

“Fine, have it your way. I was just trying to help, but if you want to make yourself worse, be my guest.”

As he started to walk off, you suddenly gasped and held at your mouth.

“Oh gob oh shid,” you mumbled, catching Levi’s attention. He turned back around, only to see you taking off in the opposite direction; a hand over your mouth and stomach.

He grimaced to himself, knowing immediately what was going on.

“Damn brat…”

Not wanting to vomit in front of everyone, you had raced back into HQ, desperately trying to hold down what little breakfast you’d managed to eat earlier. Throwing your dorm room open, you raced to the bathroom and barely made it to your personal bathroom before it all came back up.

You clutched the bowl of your toilet with shaky hands and coughed, grimacing as your throat burned. After brushing your teeth and cleaning up the bathroom, and yourself with a quick shower, you decided to finally take your friend’s advice.

Not to go to the infirmary, but instead to rest. Locked away in your room, you ignored the knocks and muffled voices at your door as you curled up under the blankets on your bed.

It may have been warm outside, but you were freezing. Despite the sweat that clung to your body, you attempted to rest.

══════════════════

What felt like an eternity later, the sound of your door being messed with woke you up out of a deep sleep. Rubbing at your sweaty brow, you groaned as you saw your locked door handle twist.

Your door opened slowly, and with blurry eyes you could make out a head of raven hair. Shuffling under the covers, you looked over your shoulder to see Levi approaching your bed.

“What are you doing?” you mumbled sleepily.

“You missed lunch. And dinner,” he stated quietly, and it was only then you noticed a tray of food in his hands.

“Oh…What time is it?” you yawned, trying your best to cover your mouth and sit up, but the dizziness came back in full force, making you groan and lay back down.

“A little after eight,” he responded, setting the tray down on your bedside table.

“I tried to check up on you earlier, but you must have really been out of it.”

“How did you even get in here this time?” you asked with a raised brow. “I locked the door.”

“I picked the lock,” he stated in a ‘you seriously have to ask?’ tone of voice.

Shooting him a look of disbelief, you shook your head and attempted to sit up again.

“Why are you even in here? I’m sick. You might get sick.” You pointed out, knowing how skittish he was about germs.

With a sigh, he sat on the edge of your bed. “I decided to swallow my pride and make sure you didn’t die in here. Firstly, that’s a lot of paper work for me. Secondly, someone has to help your stubborn ass. Might as well be me.”

“And why’s that?” You pushed for more information, a smile slowly making its way onto your face. Though his face was turned away from you, you could make out a very faint pink hue blooming over his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“Why not me?” he mumbled.

“Awe, you do care,” you chuckled, voice a little raspy still from sleep and your scratchy throat.

“Shut it, brat. You’re stuffy, and it’s annoying to listen to you talk. The sooner you become less annoying to me, the better.” he grumbled, shooting you a pointed look over his shoulder that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Starting to understand, you couldn’t help but grin. Maybe he did care a little more than he was trying to let on…

“You wouldn’t have had to hear me talk like this if you hadn’t come in here,” you pointed out teasingly.

He didn’t have a retort for this, so instead he sighed in annoyance and picked up the forgotten tray of food.

“Eat your damn soup already. And take some meds for god’s sake. I grabbed a couple bottles on the way up here.”

Rolling your eyes, you took the tray from him, your fingers lightly brushing against his hands. He stiffened slightly at the contact, but made no comment. Instead, he quietly observed you taking a sip of the warm soup. He refused to tell you, but you could tell this wasn’t something that had been served for dinner. He had to have made this himself.

For you…

“Thanks, Levi. I guess I could maybe use the help.” You smiled at him, scooting a little closer to where he sat.

“Yeah no shit, now eat.” He didn’t move away from you. Instead, he discreetly moved a little closer.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad to ask for help from time to time, you supposed. Especially if being sick meant you got to spend some time with your favorite Captain…

[differentpostrebel]

Lost and Found: A Pirate's Promise

The second gif gets me everytime LMFAOOO

Chapter 19: The Icy Clash 

A/N: We finally get the Monet VS. Y/N fight!!! And also some funny Sanji moments too. Some Law POV, as well. Some surprise guests too! Tomorrows chapter we will be getting out lovesick cooks sanji POV.. and more, maybe a few more surprise guests (hehehe) ! Thank you guys for joining!, thank you guys for following, liking, reblogging, commenting!. I cant wait for you guys to see whats instore for the next chapters! And without further a do, lets get to it! Also, Tomorrow I will also be going back to chapter 18 and 19 and adding the links to the previous chapters.

Word Count: 4.8K 

Sanji X Reader, One Piece X Reader, Sanji x Y/N

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19 (Here)

Laws POV… 

Finally making my way to the room I needed to be in, I was laser-focused on my mission. Destroying the manufacturing tanks for the SAD was my top priority. Once that was done, I’d head back to R-66 and regroup with Straw Hat—and Y/N. Thoughts of her needing my assistance filled my mind. Her extensive injuries and wounds meant she'd be in recovery mode, which meant she'd need me by her side.

"Y/N, the things you do to me," I whispered under my breath as I unsheathed my blade, preparing for the task ahead.

But before I could make my move, a voice behind me made it clear who I’d be facing.

"I can't help but feel like I've been bit by my very own dog, Law," Vergo’s voice dripped with malice, causing me to turn back and face him.

"I'm afraid you've crossed the line, kid. You're just too damn smart for your own good," he sneered, his armament Haki flaring up as he readied his bamboo stick. "You know what's sad about folks like you? They tend to die at a young age. I can't wait to wipe that smart-ass look off your face."

His eyes narrowed as a twisted smile crept across his lips. "And maybe then I can get back to that princess of yours you seem so fond of. Maybe I can even hand her over to Joker. I'm sure he'd love to have his fun with her."

I felt a surge of anger course through me, my grip tightening on my blade. "You won’t lay a finger on her, Vergo," I growled, my voice low and deadly.

In a flash, Vergo appeared in front of me, faster than I could react. His bamboo stick slammed into my chin with brutal force, knocking me off balance as blood spilled from my mouth. Before I could regain my footing, he appeared again, this time driving his weapon into my chest, slamming me into the ground with such force that it created a dent in the metal floor.

"Stand up, Law," Vergo taunted, towering over me with that same cold, menacing grin. "You can’t die this early. I want you to feel every bit of this."

Gritting my teeth, I struggled to push myself up, my body protesting in pain. "You think… this is enough to stop me?" I spat, wiping the blood from my mouth as I forced myself to stand, my legs shaky but resolute.

Vergo’s expression didn’t change, his eyes narrowing as he watched me. "You’ve always been stubborn. But that’s going to be your downfall."

I steadied myself, gripping my sword tightly. "The only one falling today… is you," I said, my voice filled with determination. "I’ve come too far to let you stop me now. And I’ll be damned if I let you get anywhere near her."

Vergo chuckled darkly, his bamboo stick coated in Haki as he readied his next move. "Big words for a man on the brink of death. Let’s see if you can back them up."

Y/N POV..

"What is that?" I asked, looking up ahead at the top of the stairs.

"It's the children!" Robin exclaimed, her voice filled with concern.

"Oh no, Chopper is in his Monster Point!" Nami gasped, her eyes widening in alarm.

"The kids must be going through withdrawals," I said, my heart sinking at the sight. Chopper’s Rumble Ball effect had worn off, and the children were frantically running towards the biscuit room, desperate to eat more candy. Chopper, tears welling in his eyes, begged them to stop, but they didn’t listen.

Just then, Nami grabbed Chopper, pulling him back as we all began to run toward the children. "Nami, thank you!" Chopper said, his voice filled with relief.

"Looks like we got here just in time! Yohooo!" Brook chimed in, his usual cheerfulness masking the severity of the situation.

But I suddenly stopped in my tracks, my body still too weak to keep up. The toll of my injuries was catching up to me, and I couldn’t push myself any further. "Y/N, come on!" Zoro called out, his voice urging me to keep moving.

I glanced at Chopper, struggling to catch my breath as I tried to steady myself. "Chopper," I began, my voice strained, "remember that medicine I handed you along with the ointment that can heal wounds fast?"

"Yeah, Y/N, I brought a few just in case," Chopper replied, still wounded from trying to keep the kids in place. He was breathing heavily, but he quickly reached into his bag, understanding the gravity of the situation.

I limped toward Chopper, determination in my eyes. "Good, I’m going to need that now!" I declared, knowing this was the only way I could help without being a burden.

Chopper stared at me, his eyes full of concern but also understanding. He knew this was a risk, but it was necessary. "Right!" he said, pulling out a small white medicine pill.

"Here goes nothing," I muttered, swallowing the pill whole. The taste was bitter, but I ignored it, focusing on the task at hand.

After a few minutes, I began to feel the effects of the medicine. My body, once sluggish and weak, now felt energized. The pain in my right leg subsided, and I could finally put weight on it again. "Yes!" I exclaimed, testing my strength as a smile spread across my face. "Thank you, Chopper!" I said, grateful for his quick thinking and the medicine that had given me a second wind.

"You gotta stop the kids before they consume more of it, guys!" Chopper cried, his voice trembling. "The biscuit room is down the hall to the left. There's a girl named Mocha who's been helping me—she's the only child with her right mind!"

"Don’t worry, Chopper, we can take care of it from here. You did good," I reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Tears welled up in Chopper’s eyes once more, the weight of the situation heavy on his small frame.

We finally reached the biscuit room, and just as Chopper had said, the children were rushing toward Mocha, desperate for more candy. Robin quickly sprang into action. "Mil Fleur, Gigantesco Mano!" she commanded, her giant hands emerging from the floor, wrapping around the children, and halting them in their tracks.

"Good, this will buy us some time!" I said, feeling a brief moment of relief.

"Nami, Usopp, Chopper, go help Mocha and the kids!" I instructed, urgency lacing my voice.

"Right!" they responded in unison, rushing toward Mocha, who was trying her best to keep the candy away from the other children.

Robin’s face twisted in concentration as she struggled to hold the kids back. "I’m afraid I can’t hold them off much longer," she warned, gritting her teeth. One of the children bit down on her hand, causing her to wince in pain.

"You can’t have any candy!" Mocha shouted, desperately trying to keep the candy away from the other children as they clawed at her. In a panic, she turned and bolted, clutching the candy tightly to her chest.

Just then, a gust of cold wind swept through the room, carrying with it a flurry of snowflakes. "What is it now?" I groaned in frustration as the exit became blocked by a wall of snow.

"You don’t have to worry about a thing, Mocha dear," a chillingly familiar voice echoed through the room. My eyes widened in shock and anger. "It’s her!" I hissed, gripping my sword tightly. "The nerve of this bitch!" I added through gritted teeth.

"Ahhh, it’s her! It’s the crazy bird woman I told you about!" Usopp yelled, eyes wide with fear.

"Crazy is a nice way of putting it," I muttered darkly. "This woman is downright evil!"

"Monet, help me, please!" Mocha pleaded, her voice trembling.

Monet’s icy gaze fell on Mocha. "Mocha, you shouldn’t hog all the candy. Be a nice girl and share it with everyone," she cooed, a sinister smile on her lips as she sent another gust of snow our way.

"It seems this woman uses sorcery!" Kin’emon exclaimed, readying his sword.

"Oh, it’s more than sorcery, that’s for sure!" I snapped back, my eyes narrowing as I locked onto Monet.

"You know this woman?" Zoro asked, glancing at me with curiosity.

"Let’s just say she and I go way back," I replied coldly, my grip tightening on my sword.

Monet! But why?" Mocha cried out, her voice tinged with desperation and confusion.

Monet giggled, a chilling sound that seemed to freeze the very air around us.

Laws POV… 

"AHHH!" I yelled in agony, the pain nearly overwhelming me. "Damn it! Room! Have my heart come back to me!"

Just as I managed to summon my powers and pull my heart back, Vergo landed a crushing kick that sent me crashing into the nearby rails. I fell to the ground, the pain becoming almost unbearable. My vision started to blur, and I could barely make out Vergo’s menacing figure as he once again clutched my heart.

With his armament haki activated, Vergo landed a devastating punch to my face, sending my hat flying off and leaving me vulnerable.

"Here’s a counter shock!" I sneered, unleashing a brutal attack that made him gasp in pain. 

"I have a message from Joker," Vergo said, his voice cold and indifferent.

My counterattack hadn’t worked, and the realization dawned on me that Vergo was indeed a loyal lackey of Joker. "Well, Vergo," I said through gritted teeth, a smirk appearing on my face despite the pain. "That’s Mr. Vergo to you."

As Vergo continued to clutch my heart, I screamed in agony, my strength waning as I barely managed to stay conscious. Just then, as if by some miracle, the scene shifted, and Vergo came face to face with Vice Admiral Smoker.

Smoker’s imposing figure filled the doorway, and his presence was a welcome sight. "Smoker��" I muttered weakly, a flicker of hope igniting within me despite the intense pain. 

Y/N POV.. 

"Mocha, there’s no way you can eat all that candy alone," Monet said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "You might as well share it with the others."

"No! I can't do that, it's bad!" Mocha protested, clutching the candy tightly.

"My, you're a difficult one," Monet replied with a smirk. "Stop being greedy and share."

"Hey, lady, what are you doing to these kids?" Nami demanded, stepping forward with a fierce glare.

"Yeah, you don’t know who you’re messing with!" Usopp added, his tone defiant.

"Actually, I do," Monet said with a hint of malice. "I do my research, so I know exactly who you are. You’re the infamous Straw Hat Pirate Crew."

"We don’t have much time," Robin said, turning to us with urgency. "Luffy asked me to find Sea Prism Stone handcuffs. Usopp and Brook, go search for them."

Usopp and Brook nodded, quickly heading off to find the handcuffs. Kinemon also left to search for his son, leaving Robin, Zoro, Nami, Chopper, and me to deal with Monet.

I steeled myself, trying to push through the pain and fatigue. "Not yet, Y/N," I thought. "I’ve got to hold it off a little while longer."

Mocha, taking advantage of the chaos, ran away with the children following her. Nami and Chopper dashed after them, their urgency clear. "Perhaps I can slow them down!" Robin said, preparing to act.

But before Robin could make a move, Monet struck with deadly precision, stabbing Robin in the back. "Robin!" Nami cried out in horror as Robin staggered, the wound clearly painful.

Seeing Robin injured spurred me into action. "It’s time," I said to myself, determination filling me. I clenched my left hand, activating its power. I grabbed my sword, pressing the blue gem to summon the ice once more. The blade shimmered with a cold, icy aura.

With a surge of adrenaline, I lifted my left leg and dashed toward Nami and Robin. "I told you... DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH THEM!" I roared, my voice echoing with fury. I slammed my sword down, intercepting Monet’s attack with a loud clash.

The force of the impact sent shockwaves through the air, and Monet’s eyes widened in surprise.

. She was flung backward, her blades slicing through the air as she regained her balance.

“Nami, Robin, Chopper, are you guys okay?” I called out, not taking my glare away from Monet. I could see Nami trying to support Robin while Chopper tended to her wounds.

“We’re fine, but the kids—” Nami began, but Zoro cut her off.

“You three do something to stop those kids!” Zoro said, drawing his swords and preparing for action.

“Zoro, stay out of this fight!” I ordered, my voice firm and filled with authority. “This birdbrain’s mine.” I smirked, focusing my full attention on Monet.

“I’m not leaving you,” Zoro said, determination etched in his expression.

“Just make sure Nami, Robin, and Chopper make it out of this room!” I insisted. “Then come back and help.”

Monet, having regained her composure, sneered at me. “Ahh, we meet again, harlot!” she spat, venom dripping from her words.

“Monet, long time no see. Has it really been 30 minutes since you tied me to those chains?” I retorted, my voice dripping with cold satisfaction.

“I’ve been waiting to get you back for mocking me, princess,” Monet growled, her rage palpable. “The brokers will be thrilled to see this fight,” she added with a smirk.

“By the way, how’s your right leg? Vergo did a number on you. That’ll be an easy target for me to strike,” Monet taunted.

“Good,” I said, clenching my left hand. “I can’t wait for them to watch me kick your ass!” I lifted my right leg and clenched my left hand, focusing my energy.

With a burst of speed, I dashed through the air, twisting and spinning with precision. My right leg arced gracefully, the motion fluid and powerful as I executed my move. “Tremor Kick!” I shouted as my heel connected with Monet’s head, sending her crashing down to the ground with a resounding impact. The force created a series of cracks and holes in the ground where she landed.

I glanced to my right and spotted a camera, clearly positioned for the brokers to watch the fight. “Must be where the brokers are looking at,” I thought with a smirk.

“And as for you lovely brokers who are watching,” I called out with a confident grin, “get ready for the ride of your lives.”

I twirled my sword, and the air around me shimmered as the ice shards crystallized into razor-sharp, blade-like formations. The shards whirled around me, their edges gleaming with a deadly light. With a swift, fluid motion, I directed the shards toward Monet.

The shards sliced through the air with precision, their icy blades cutting through anything in their path. Monet, still reeling from my previous attack, barely had time to react as the shards closed in. The air crackled with the sound of ice meeting flesh, and Monet’s eyes widened in shock and pain. 

As she staggered back, I could hear Mocha’s desperate screams as she fled through another door, pursued by the others.

“We can’t let the kids get away!” Chopper shouted, his concern for the children evident in his voice. Robin, Chopper, Nami, and Zoro swiftly headed towards the children, leaving me to deal with Monet.

Monet’s voice cut through the chaos, dripping with malice. “My, that was quite the attack, harlot. But it’s still not enough to stop me.” Her determination was palpable as she started moving towards the escaping group.

“Oh no you don’t!” I shouted, dashing to intercept her. Nami’s eyes widened in alarm. “Y/N! Don’t hit me!” she cried out, but I had no intention of harming her. Instead, I aimed my strike at Monet, who had positioned herself behind Nami.

Our blades clashed with a sharp ring, the impact reverberating through the room. Monet gritted her teeth, her face a mask of rage and frustration.

“Guys, get out now!” I yelled to Nami, Robin, and Chopper as they hurriedly left. Zoro gave me one last, concerned look before turning back to ensure their safe retreat.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay, Y/N?” Zoro called out, determination in his voice. “Protect them and the children!” I shouted back, my voice laced with urgency. With a nod, Zoro sprinted off, leaving me to confront Monet. 

Monet’s eyes narrowed as she licked her lips, her expression a mix of disdain and amusement. “Such a shame,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension. “This fight is between you and me, not them.”

I met her gaze with a smirk. “Yes, it is, but picking at the weak ones is a winner’s strategy.”

Monet’s smile faltered slightly as I chuckled. “You honestly think they’re weak? Hmpph, Law was right about one thing: you really are full of it,” I said, letting out a laugh that I hoped would get under her skin.

Her face darkened, anger flickering in her eyes. “Harlot… I’d watch that mouth of yours,” she warned, her tone icy.

“Oh?” I replied, feigning curiosity. “You mean the same mouth that Law loves to kiss?”

The mention of Law’s name seemed to hit a nerve. Monet’s expression twisted in a mix of rage and frustration. Monet’s frustration was palpable, her strikes growing more erratic as I danced around her with deliberate ease. “You know, Monet,” I said with a smirk, “it’s almost sad watching you get so worked up. You’re clearly not used to someone getting under your skin.”

Her eyes narrowed with fury. “I’m going to enjoy watching you fall.”

I chuckled, dodging another of her wild swings. “Oh, I’m sure you will. But before you do, let’s talk about something a bit more... personal. Like how Law and I had a little moment together.”

Monet’s confusion and irritation flashed across her face. “What are you talking about?”

I sidestepped her attack with a graceful twist, my voice laced with taunting amusement. “You didn’t know? Law and I had a rather... intense encounter. He had me pinned down, tending to my wounds with such skill. But it wasn’t just about healing. There was a certain... intimacy to it. You could almost feel the tension crackling between us.”

Monet’s grip on her weapon tightened, her frustration bubbling over. “I don’t care about your games or your little romance.”

I laughed softly, my eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, but you’re mistaken. It’s not just about romance. It’s about how he made me feel, the way his touch was both firm and gentle. And this coat I’m wearing? It’s not just any coat. It’s his coat. The warmth of it, the scent of his cologne—it all reminds me of how he took care of me, making sure I stayed warm and protected.” I gave her a teasing wink. “A charming young doctor just knows all the right ways to satisfy a woman, if you know what I mean.”

Monet’s face twisted in anger. “Enough! I’m done listening to your pathetic boasts.”

I leaned in closer, my tone dripping with mockery. “Pathetic? Maybe. But it’s also effective. You’re rattled because you know you’ll never have what I had with Law. The warmth, the care, the connection—it’s something you can never touch. And that eats away at you, doesn’t it?”

Putting away my sword, I pressed my left palm against my right fist, activating the electrical charge with a crackle of energy. “You are so dead, princess!” Monet snarled, lunging at me with fury. I dodged her attack, her movements wild and fueled by rage. But then, suddenly, I felt something cold and heavy stopping me in my tracks.

“What the hell!” I cursed, struggling to move as the snow around me hardened, trapping me in place. Monet’s eyes gleamed with triumph as she closed in, her claws flashing. She slashed at my coat, the fabric tearing apart, falling in tatters around me.

“Now, there’s no coat to protect you,” she sneered, her smirk widening as I strained against the snow’s grasp.

“Damn it, I’m still stuck in this!” I growled, struggling against the snow’s icy grip. But before I could break free, Monet seized my left arm, her claws digging painfully into my skin. I swung at her with my free hand, but she was too fast. With a sinister grin, she spun me around and hurled me against the wall. The impact sent a shockwave of pain through my body, blood spilling from my mouth as I crumpled to the ground. My left arm throbbed in agony—the injury was getting worse, and I could feel it.

Monet approached me with a taunting smirk, her voice dripping with mockery. “Hahaha! My, my, Princess, did I injure your left arm?”

I looked up at her, breathing heavily but refusing to show weakness. “Even if you did injure me, I can still kick your ass with one hand tied behind my back!” I snarled.

With my right hand, I grabbed her left leg in a sudden move. Her eyes widened in surprise. “What are you doing?!” Monet demanded.

“NOW SHOCK!” I yelled, channeling the electricity from my arm directly into her body. The energy surged through her, and Monet convulsed, gasping for air as the shock overwhelmed her.

As she collapsed to the ground, struggling to breathe, I slowly let go of her leg and pushed myself up, clutching onto my injured left arm. The pain was intense, but I wasn’t about to back down. I stood over Monet, my eyes burning with defiance. “You’re not so tough when the tables are turned, are you?” I muttered, my voice low and fierce.

Just then, I heard the door creak open, and I turned to see Zoro stepping into the room. "Finally made it back," he said, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

Laughing, I made my way over to him, relief washing over me. "About time you got here!" I teased. "And you didn’t get lost! I’m impressed."

But before I could say more, I saw Zoro's expression change. His eyes widened as he looked past me, and I felt a cold dread settle in my stomach. “Y/N, watch out!” he shouted.

“Snow Sword Skin Technique!” Monet's voice rang out behind me, filled with malice. I barely had time to react before I felt a sharp, searing pain in my left arm. Monet’s blade had cut deep, leaving a giant gash that bled profusely.

“Damn it!” I seethed, clutching my arm as I staggered back, trying to maintain my balance. The pain was excruciating, but I wasn’t going to let her see me falter.

Monet seizing the opportunity, grabs me with her claws. Her claws dug deeper into my chest, and I could feel her nails piercing my skin as pressure mounted on my ribs. "Ahhh!" I screamed, the agony shooting through my body. I clutched my left arm, still trying to lift my right leg for an attack, but Monet locked it down with her own, squeezing me into submission.

“Damn it!” I gasped, each breath harder to take as her crushing hold forced the air out of me. My body throbbed as if every nerve was screaming in pain.

“Y/N!” Zoro’s voice cut through the haze, his sword ready as he sprinted toward me.

“Zoro! Don’t!” I shouted, trying to keep him from getting any closer. I knew Monet wanted him to charge in recklessly.

Monet grinned wickedly, her taunt aimed right at Zoro. “My, even in the face of death, she still wants to protect you. How touching!” Her wings began to rise, preparing to deliver the final blow. "One more slash should do it."

Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed through the corridor. “There’s another room back here! Find those children and get them out of here!” shouted a familiar voice.

Monet froze, her attack halting as confusion washed over her face. “What the...?”

I took advantage of the distraction, clenching my left hand, summoning every bit of energy I had. Pain radiated through my body, but I forced it aside, connecting my right hand with my left. Power surged between them. A smirk tugged at the corners of my mouth as I realized I had the chance to fight back.

“Come on, let’s bust the door open!” The voice rang out, clear now. My eyes widened. "Wait, that's..."

“Raaahhh! Save those kids!” Sanji shouted as he burst into the room, G-5 marines following close behind.

Zoro threw an annoyed glance their way. “Why are all those marines after you?”

“The only person I can see is Pirate Hunter Zoro!” one of the G-5 marines shouted.

“Of course, that idiot is here,” Sanji said, exasperation in his voice.

"He really is something else," I muttered weakly through the pain.

“Alright, men! Everyone, make dumb faces at Mosshead!” Sanji commanded, and the G-5 soldiers instantly complied, pulling ridiculous expressions toward Zoro.

“I hope you all slip and crack your skulls,” Zoro grumbled. 

Monet’s grip on my leg loosened in the chaos, giving me the opportunity I needed. Summoning all the power in my right leg, I prepared to strike. 

Sanji, oblivious to the situation, suddenly locked eyes on Monet. “Never mind, we’ve got a hottie right here!” he swooned, hearts in his eyes.

“Yeah, shake those tail feathers!” one of the G-5 soldiers chimed in.

I rolled my eyes. “Of course, Sanji.”

“Pick your jaws up, morons!” Zoro barked at the G-5 marines, snapping them out of their daze. “And you, curly brows, do you not see she’s about to kill Y/N?”

But then, Sanji’s gaze shifted and finally locked onto me. His eyes went wide with sudden realization. “What the—? Y/N!” His voice, usually playful, was now filled with genuine concern. “You’ve got to be kidding me...”

That was all I needed to hear. Gathering the last bit of strength, I pushed back against Monet. With my right leg, I kicked her just enough to loosen her grip. “I’ve got one shot at this,” I muttered to myself, steeling my resolve.

With Monet momentarily thrown off, I activated the anklet around my leg, and connecting a touch with my left palm, letting the fire ignite. “Let’s see how you handle this, Monet!”

With a fierce stomp, I brought my foot down on her wing, flames erupting and sending tremors through her body. The fire spread across her arm, igniting her flesh. “Now, Blaze!” I shouted, watching as her arm was engulfed in flames.

Monet screeched, stumbling backward as she tried desperately to extinguish the fire. The tables had turned. The terror she had inflicted on me was now her own to face. I stood, clutching my injured arm but ready to finish what we started.

Monet, though weakened and scorched, wasn’t done yet. She bared her fangs, her icy wings spreading wide as she prepared for another assault. “You think this is over?” she hissed, her voice dripping with venom.

Just then, she was momentarily distracted by the G-5 marines, who were shouting and catcalling. “Sexiest bird I’ve ever seen!” one of them whistled, while another added, “woohooo! Baby yeah!

Zoro, incredulous, commented dryly, “Call me crazy, but I think she’s actually enjoying this!”

Seizing the opportunity, I made my way toward Sanji and swiftly undid his tie. Sanji’s face flushed a deep red, and I could feel his heart racing. “Y/N, what are you—” he started, but I didn’t give him a chance to finish.

With a quick motion, I removed his tie and began wrapping it around my injured left arm. “There, that’ll stop the bleeding for now,” I said, tying it securely.

Sanji, still looking dumbfounded, watched as I finished. I approached him, pecked him on the cheek, and said, “Did I ever tell you that you look absolutely sexy without a tie?” With a playful wink, I turned and made my way back to the battlefield.

Sanji’s face turned a deeper shade of red, but his attention quickly snapped back to the fight as he saw Monet preparing her next attack. 

Kidd POV…

"Kidd, I totally forgot we had a meeting to form an alliance with both Scratchman and Hawkins," Killer said, downing his fifth beer.

"Cancel the meeting, I don’t give a damn," I grumbled, chugging down my seventh beer. The room spun slightly as the alcohol took its toll. “The way Caesar’s showing the wrong people in this live recording, I don’t care about your poison gas!” I slammed my fist on the table, causing the remaining beer to slosh around.

Just then, the live transponder snail began broadcasting a room filled with children. “Little brats, what is this, a daycare live feed?” I sneered, irritation growing.

Killer chuckled, shaking his head. “At this rate, it looks like that meeting’s about to be more interesting than this.”

“I told you… DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH THEM!” came a voice through the broadcast.

Y/N. The voice cut through my drunken haze like a lightning bolt. My mind, fogged by the alcohol, began to spin into a wild fantasy, the lines between reality and imagination blurring.

In my steamy reverie, Y/N’s presence dominated every corner of my mind. I imagined her standing in front of me, her eyes blazing with defiance and raw intensity. The fantasy was visceral and unrestrained. I could almost feel her body pressed against mine, the heat of her skin melding with mine as if igniting a feverish storm. The thought of her lips against mine, of her breath mingling with my own, sent a surge of heat straight to my core.

I envisioned gripping Y/N tightly, her form writhing beneath me, every touch and gasp amplified by the raw, primal energy between us. Her voice, fierce and unyielding, was now a low, seductive growl in my ear, every word a promise of unrestrained passion. The scene played out with explosive intensity: our bodies tangled in a frenetic dance of need and desire, our movements wild and unrelenting.

The world outside ceased to exist, our connection consuming all rational thought. I imagined the intensity of her gaze as it pierced through me, her skin hot and slick against mine. Every touch was electric, every whisper a command that drove me further into a frenzy of lust. I saw us locked together, the heat of our bodies mingling, each touch igniting the other in a relentless surge of pleasure.

Sweat dripped down my brow as the fantasy reached its fever pitch. I could feel the imaginary press of Y/N’s body against mine, the way her hands gripped me, urging me closer, driving me deeper into the madness of our shared desire. Her moans begging me for more, begging for me to go faster. I can hear it now, her voice filled with pleasure, “Kidd… oh Kidd dont stop.”  It was raw, untamed, a brutal collision of passion and power.

As the feed continued, Y/N's voice cut through the clamor, taunting the bird woman with a mix of defiance and strategic wit. That is until she mentioned Trafalgar laws. How he tended to her wounds, how he gave her his coat, how he had her pinned down, Y/N’s voice dripped with a mixture of pride and irritation. “That should be me doing all that!” The words were sharp and deliberate, designed to get under the bird woman's skin. 

My grip tightened around the beer bottle, the fiery liquid warming my insides as I took another swig. I could feel the heat of my frustration mingling with the alcohol, fueling a storm of possessive anger. My mind raced, images of Law's smug face and Y/N's vulnerable position stirring a tempest of raw emotion within me.

Killer’s gaze was fixed on the screen, his expression reflecting the same volatile mix of fury and frustration I felt. His hands were clenched tightly, knuckles white as if they were straining against invisible chains. “I told you, Kidd, we should have gone,” he said, his voice laced with frustration and a touch of regret.

I smirked, watching Y/N’s tactical play unfold. “Damn right,” I muttered. “My fiancée sure knows how to rattle anybody she comes across.” My pride surged with every clever remark Y/N made, each taunt a testament to her strength and cunning.

Just then, my eyes widened as the scene took a brutal turn. The bird woman, furious and desperate, grabbed Y/N with a vicious grip and hurled them against the wall. My heart pounded, the raw intensity of the scene searing through my drunken haze. Y/N's body slammed into the wall with a sickening thud, and I could see the grimace of pain on their face even through the screen.

Killer let out a low growl, his frustration palpable. But then Y/N retaliated sending the bird woman a jolt of electricity.

The way Y/N retaliated, her body moving with an effortless grace that spoke of countless hours of training and determination, was captivating. Her fierce resolve, Her focus—it was intoxicating. The bird woman reeled from the electric assault, her earlier bravado dissipating as she struggled to regain her footing. 

Killer, noticing my distracted, almost transfixed expression, took another swig of his beer, his eyes glinting with a mix of admiration and something darker. “She’s become quite the force to be reckoned with,” he said, his voice low but laced with a hint of intrigue. “I didn’t expect any less from her.”

I grunted, my fingers gripping the edge of the table tightly as I watched Y/N fight. “Yeah, she’s something else,” I said, my voice rough with emotion. “Every time I see her like this, it drives me wild.”

Killer’s smirk widened as he observed Y/N’s defensive tactics. “Looks like she knows exactly how to push their buttons,” he said, his tone dripping with admiration. “And she’s doing it brilliantly.”

My lips curled into a savage grin. “Damn right. That’s my woman out there, showing everyone what she’s made of.” I raised my beer in a celebratory gesture, the pride and possessiveness clear in my voice. “She’s got the fire in her, and she’s not afraid to use it.”

As the bird woman was forced back, her composure shattered by Y/N’s relentless assault, I felt a surge of passion and fury. Seeing Y/N fight with such intensity, their movements a testament to their strength and will, only fueled my desire. I wanted to be there, fighting alongside them, sharing in their triumphs and struggles.

“Let’s keep watching,” I said, my voice filled with a rough intensity. “I need to see every moment of this. I want to see how she handles this.”

Killer nodded, his eyes reflecting the same fervor. “Yeah, let’s see it through. She’s incredible.”

As the battle unfolded before us, the room seemed to shrink away, leaving only the raw, unfiltered passion of the fight and my unwavering fascination with Y/N.

Unknown Viewer…

As the live feed continued to capture Y/N’s fierce struggle, the three of us sat together, our eyes fixed on the screen. Y/N’s determination was palpable, her every move a testament to her strength and resilience. I couldn’t help but admire her, even as a dark plan began to take shape in my mind.

“She really is quite the woman,” one of my brothers remarked, taking a swig of his beer. His gaze was unwavering as he observed the battle. “Look at her stand her ground. It’s impressive.”

My other brother snorted, a derisive laugh escaping him. “And our failure of a brother can’t get enough of her,” he said, pointing at the screen. “He wouldn’t even know how to handle all that woman.”

The laughter that followed was harsh, but I found it fitting. The image of Y/N, fierce and unapologetic, stirred something within me. “She’s feisty, I love that in a woman,” I said, my voice filled with a mixture of admiration and darker intent. “She’s exactly what I’ve been looking for.”

I stood, the weight of my decision settling heavily on my shoulders. “It’s settled, then,” I declared, my tone resolute. “I’ll have father set up the arrangements. Soon, she will be mine, and we’ll be wed.”

My brothers exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of amusement and approval. “And I’ll make sure she knows what true power feels like,” I continued, a cruel smile stretching across my face. “The failure will witness it all, and he’ll be powerless to stop it.”

The laughter that followed was cold, echoing through the room. “Soon, you will be mine,” I said, turning my attention back to the live feed. “And we’ll show everyone what true dominance really means.”

As the scene unfolded, the promise of what was to come hung heavily in the air. I watched with a mixture of anticipation and satisfaction, knowing that soon, everything would change.

.

.

..

[matthewmurdockswife]

My Story <3

Tw: suicide,Sh,self-hate

Hey yall so I never really talk about my personal life on here but i feel like I owe everyone an explanation.

Within the past two years I have recovered from SH, and an attempted suicide, it was half ass but it was still an attempt. I was playing fast and loose with my life because I thought there was nothing left of it. I hated myself and how I looked, How I always felt so depressed the way my relationships with friends and family always seemed to fall apart but most of all I hated myself.

Im not sure exactly when it happened but about one year ago I met someone. She had similar interests as me and understood me on a personal level and even though we had lived completely different experiences she was there for me. We started talking more and more and I found out she lived Hours away from me in a completely different country, but I accepted our distance and created our connection. She helped me see that my life was very much so worth living. This girl was harley @dwntwn-strnlo

About four months later the only friends I was talking with in person blew up on me with fake excuses about why we shouldnt be friends, one had stolen some of my clothes as well as some of my money. It hurt more not because they left me but because I trusted them and they betrayed me, They left me out to dry and I reconnected with an old friend from middle school, M.

M helped me to realize that my emotional connection to people isnt a downfall but my strong suit. My intense passion love and energy I give to the world only makes me more beautiful not more weak.

Then M introduced me to S. And S is the most kind and gentle and loving people ive ever met. She reflected me in every sense of my love for others. S helped me to realize that just because someone else doesnt agree doesnt mean I cant formulate and stand up for my own opinions.

The three of us became very close and talked nearly everyday. Im not sure exactly when or why, but one day I decided to pull out my phone and film one of our lunches. Me,M and S all really hit it off we loved being in front of the camera and it almost just felt like the camera wasnt even there.

So we kept filming and that night I went home to edit our very first video and I posted it on an old youtube channel. I touched it up and added pretty colours and tried to make it more asethetic and I stayed up all night working on that first video.

And it got 13 views. And a hate comment. And then youtube took it down. But we didnt care. We kept hussling and we never stopped filming and i havent lost passion in the past half year weve been filming, I even branched off to start my own youtube channel because I love it so much.

I know I dont share much with you all and you dont even know my name, but I felt that where I was today was something i needed to share. My group doesnt have very many subscribers and im okay with that as long as it means I get to keep doing something I love.

so unfortunately I have been putting a lot less time and a LOT less effort into my writing. Im in my senior year of highschool and its all or nothing. I really want to do youtube as a career but i understand the sucsess rate is low, I have a backup plan but ill never be as happy as I am when im in front of the camera filming one of our youtube videos.

So I wanted to apologize to those of you who have been waiting for me to post but its very unlikely that i will be posting many or frequent fics anymore im not saying Im stopping im just slowing down. Its been a rough couple of years but ive finally found something I can pour my heart into. I hope yall understand I love yall so much seriously youve given me so much support<3

Love,

matthewmurdockswife <3

Please never hesitate to talk to me about anything through my inbox or my dms <3

@dwntwn-strnlo @fenoy7 @sturnioloshacker @lvrsparadise @querenciasturniolo

[spacedlexi]

I totally get your point about the kenny/Jane thing. In my opinion the best outcome is letting Kenny kill Jane (honestly Jane brought that to herself, all of them knew that if he lost someone else he would finally go ballistic and she deliberately put him on that spot to prove "a point") and then staying in Wellington, because Kenny acknowledges that he's not fit enough to care for her and AJ anymore, so he begs Clem to stay. He's aware that he's not right for the job, and he accomplished his mission, he stayed loyal to Lee and left. It also gives the opportunity to speculate whether he finally found peace after all his suffering. (Even if the original idea was him offing himself in the Virginia lake after that)

i always find myself struggling to talk about S2 because i know the writers changed direction (multiple times?) as the season was releasing??? which means character arcs and motivations were altered to fit this new direction and its like painfully obvious sometimes especially when it comes to kenny and jane and luke

i hate when writers cant commit to the bit. and that kind of happens with kenny. which is weird because even tho they decided against him literally being carvers character (which wouldve worked perfectly for a luke v kenny ending), they still try to give him that carver storyline. like.. i could see kenny easily being in carvers position at howes. just like lilly in S4 with the delta. these two characters wanted leadership and never liked any pushback from the people around them. i can also see the kenny we knew from S1 turning into a man like carver in S2 (a dude who has lost a lot and whose methods are becoming more extreme to keep people safe) and i think kenny being carver instead wouldve made carver a much deeper and more interesting antagonist. like carver is fine. he works although his beef with this 11yo is weird. but we dont buy it when bonnie tells us he used to be a cool guy. we've only ever seen carver as a murderer. but if it was kenny in this role then immediately we add a lot of baggage to this character and his relationship with clem and her new relationship with the howes group. like we know kenny and we know what hes capable of but we also understand his motivations and we do believe that deep down kenny does want whats best to keep his people safe. and clem reappearing in the life of THIS kenny wouldve been Huge as he wouldve already begun his descent and clem is the only one who can really get through to him (like they still try to do when all the adults are like "uuuh clem you go talk to the angry man theres no way he'll listen to US"). i think they were afraid of making kenny an outright antagonist though and instead tried to have their cake and eat it too which just kinda...leads to mess... commit to your characters dark spirals and downfalls i hate this wishy washy bullshit. plus having kenny as carver instead wouldve centered clem in the howes discussion more. as it stands she just kinda gets swept up in everyone elses bullshit and just has to go along with it. classic child experience tho

jane pretending that aj was dead to intentionally push kenny over the edge just to "prove" to clem that hes dangerous was SOOOOO unnecessary jane!!! like we know girl!! we know!!! and when he tries to kill her for it its like...i know you saw this coming jane so how did you expect this to end?? was she just hoping she'd win the fight? she even tells clem to stay out of whatever was about to happen (plus she does genuinely put ajs life in real danger by leaving him in that car where they were lucky to hear his cries). but i think this problem stems from them changing it out from being a luke v kenny showdown. i think that ending wouldve culminated more naturally as their beef was slowly building since they first met. disagreement in leadership styles. that silly little middle school "choose who to sit with at dinner" thing felt like foreshadowing of a luke v kenny fight that just never happened. they needed to create a reason for kenny to attack jane as jane doesnt care about leadership she cares about keeping herself safe so the whole aj thing just....feels forced. like... jane why....Why........ where did your self preservation go...its like your whole character...

so...yeah.... i have a lot of conflicting feelings about S2 and its ending. on my recent playthrough i had clem tell kenny that maybe lee Shouldnt have come to save her in S1, trying to be all "boo hoo im so sad i get everyone i love killed boo hoo" and kenny responds by saying he should SMACK her for that???? i was so shocked that i missed taking the screenshot of it. i gasped audibly... turned into a "matter of time" situation for me (even tho things seem fine enough in the S3 flashbacks hes weirdly normal again and still talking about boats). kenny is definitely a broken man hanging on by a Singular Thread by the end of S2 and jane snaps it. this is why i like leaving kenny behind at wellington. clem and aj are definitely the light of his life at this point and he wants whats best for them. leaving them at wellington is really the best thing he can do for them both and its very sad because we know he Needs them. and clem would want to hold onto whoever she has left so its hard for her too. throughout all the seasons clem and aj are seen as the light in the darkness the hope for the future yadda yadda and kenny losing that? yeah i can see why the virginia lake idea was a thing. but thats ALSO why i like the clem shoots kenny ending. this man just wants it to be over he misses his family so much he cant take this shit anymore. staying with kenny into S3 really feels like we're stretching out his character as far as possible. it kinda feels like they hit the reset button on him and hes back to talking about boats. i feel like post S2 they just didnt really know what to do with him or jane. i feel like their endings in S2 are the most narratively fulfilling for their characters and i want clem to enter S3 on her own

[popstart]

Dropping a Heathney ask for the ship bingo bc I’m clinically insane

THEY MAKE ME INSANE OKAY. they are sooo rivals to lovers. Theyre both so good at the game that the other person drives them insane with how she can one-up her. They can one-up eachother SO BAD. The constant need to do better than the other person to both get what they deserve (Courtney for being unfairly kicked off, Heather for her elimination which she no doubt sees as unfair) the mutual hatred for the show, chris, and everyone there in general. World tour is THEIR SEASON OKAY. but only the really spesific version that exists in my brain.

Every time i watch world tour i get all 😮that these girls actually fucking hate eachother. Why did they not team up im not over it. Theyre canon to me in the way that ive deluded myself into thinking they have this really gay rivalry going on when their canon rivalry is the straightest shit ever . ok😭😭

They think theyre the only normal people on that show. You know. Everyone else here is inssne thank god im normal. Shut up ill reuse my jokes all i want. They definitely think the other person is crazy but in a way that bennefits them so they can appreciate eachother for that. Then that mutual appreciation grows and grows into smth more.

They could have suuuch a mutual respect for eachother. Like, canonically it was just to make her look better, but heather pointing out how courtney was wronged and how she feels her pain. Heather comforting courtney after getting cheated on... insane. INSANE..OKAY. WHY DID THEY DO NOTHING WITH THAT.

"Heather is a formidable competitor, but i can't say I approve of her tactics" she wants to fix her sooooooo bad. Courtney could be corrupted by her so hard too. Like a pep talk of how much she doesnt deserve to be wronged, causing her to throw caution out the wind and use any tactics possible to win. Basically just becoming far less filtered in the ways she wants to win

I think their relationship mostly works with a foundation of something they can work together towards but also see very differently about. They both crave leadership and cant stand giving it to someone else. If they could work together at something they would be unstoppable. Courtneys ability to organize and plan, heathers ambition to get it done. But their mutual Need for control is their downfall. BASICALLY. Its so tragically doomed and delicious.

I dont realisitically see their relationship being longterm unless something changes between them tbqh. Like sure heather is mostly only mean because of the competition and courtney's emotions are thoroughly exacerbated because of the competition but they would just butt heads a LOT. Theyre doomed and toxic yuri but theyre MY doomed and toxic yuri.

[inamorato666]

another venting post but i just want to express in as much detail as possible about the sheer mourning i have for my friends

they arent dead, none of them are. they just moved on. we've just outgrown each other. im sure a few of them have this same feeling as me, at least to some extent.

most of these friends that i often see are online profiles. my main source of communication is through discord, and during the pandemic, my first year being inside was hellish but at the same time i cherished all those chaotic times of being in servers laughing my ass off at the stupidest shit ever. granted, we were all lonely, trapped in isolation. of course we would cling to each other more in an communal online space.

an important detail about this though is that shortly after lockdown was initiated, my parents pulled me out of public school and put me in homeschooling. that was the beginning of my downfall.

as time passed and everyone was returning to attending school in person, i was still stuck in my same routine of always being online. it was a hellish cycle that soon became. at first it wasnt all that bad since i still had so many friends to keep up and rely on. but in my last year of isolation, the course of growing up and out had taken its toll. so many people were forgotten as i came and went. not to mention that the closest friendgroup i had been with ended up forgetting about me too, as i had to leave it due to being left out of things too many times.

and ever since then ive barely been able to heal from that intense loneliness. ive met my girlfriend which has been an absolute blessing and i now have one of the closest friend ive had ever but. i cant help but still mourn that feeling of being surrounded by people who cared about me like i cared about them.

i deeply miss it. i dont know whats happening to me but it feels like i cant make friends anymore. i dont know if its because of the social isolation, general smaller than average range of people since my school is a smaller charter one or just the general process of growing and maturing. but every time i seem like i can enter a promising friendgroup i end up leaving for whatever reason. its mostly because i realize i cant stand those people or they still forget about me even if it feels like ive made a good impression.

i cant help but feel guilty for wanting more. after all, my friend and my lover are all i need right? but then again humans are social creatures. everyone has a group they can fall back to. so why not me? what happened to me? who do i blame?

it feels so...i guess, bittering when i see or hear about either of the two most important people in my life mention about their friends. i want to join in so badly. i really do. but i know the pattern. i know ill leave. i dont know if ill ever fit into a group. i dont know if this is okay and i should move on and make peace or continue trying.

ive been trying to numb about this for a while now. but the pain resurfaced recently. it was a realization. a realization that this one group of people that ive been hanging out with consistently doesnt care about me. i always have to butt myself in so i can be acknowledged. even then, they still ignore me so many times.

my chest is starting to hurt so much whiel writing this because im now realizing how lonely i am. im surrounded by people but almost no one sees me. i want to share my ideas and experiences so badly. no one wants to hear me. i feel so selfish for wanting more than i already have.

the reason why i started writing this was because of a particular friend i had since the early days of middle school. we clicked after the first few anxious weeks of school. while we didnt have any classes together we still found each other whenever we could. we had our cringy anime phases together. we comforted each other. we fantasized about living in a giant mansion in the middle of the woods with other friends with our other friends, making our food, tending to our house, healing.

ever since i left that friend group that forgot about me it seemed like even she forgot about me too. the process of realizing that was slow and almost painless, but every time i realize every day we are fading and straying away from each other more and more to the point ive now accepted that i probably wouldn't want to talk to her even as much as i want to relive those conversations we had in the past.

we were the awkward, emo, queer kids. shes moved on. shes almost unrecognizable now. im not even mad im just...stunned that my memory of her doesnt match her current self. that realization hurts, that im living in the past while everyone is moving on in the present.

"used to be one of the rotten ones and i liked you for that/now you're all gone got your makeup on and you're not coming back" is a lyric by social broken scene in a song called "anthems for a seventeen year old girl"

she has her make up on and she is not coming back. im still rotting. i feel so lonely and i dont think this can ever be numbed.

[tomdiddlyumptious]

Hey! If your uncomfortable please ignore this ask, but i was wondering if you could write something similar to malcome & marie? Thank you! Happy belated birthday!

Thank you baby! I actually thought about this ask for a bit. As a community we do NOT support or want anything like that in our lives, okay?

But if you as a reader would be uncomfortable with reading this then do not.

this will be kinda very similar to the plot of malcome & marie sooo....

Pairings: Film creator!tom x used to be sex worker!reader

WE SUPPORT SEX WORKERS. YOU ARE GOLDEN😩🙌🏽

Summary: after a celebration its time for the downfall

Warnings: argueing, slut shamming, smut mentions. Drinking, smoking. Not proof read. TOXIC- suicide mention.

I hopw this is just as confusing as it was in the actual movie, cuz yeah. Pls dont be shy to say something about it. And tbh if it isnt that good to you i dont blame you, its currently 11:16 and i should be asleep.

You and tom walked in, a wide smile on his face as he danced around and shut the front door behind him. “Baby i did it!”

A faint smile played on your lips as you walked to the kitchen “yes you did, tom. You hungry?” You asked, opening the fridge as he went to go get a bottle of remy and two glasses, the rings shinning bright on his finger. “Yeah, can i have uh-“ he thought, stopping in his tracks and jerking his head as he couldnt think of anything.

“How about pancakes?” He randomly said and you chuckled “pancakes? Really?” “Of course! A sweet treat for a very sweet day” he walked up to the kitchen placing the glasses and the remy down.

You laughed again before taking out the pan, he also got to work by getting out the mix and the water while you got everything else. A cigarette in your mouth as tom helped light it while you mixed up the powder with the water.

“I never knew i could make it so far” he muttered, grabbing the remy and pouring it into the glass, tilting his head back and letting out a small moan from the sting in his throat. “You did a good job”

“Ya know, everyone is so judgemental, like i could walk around with my shoes untied and somebody would fucking give me a glare- or even what you call it. a stank eye” you nodded at his words letting him know you were listening, “but when i made that fucking movie i had all these women just- i cant even explain it” he shrugged, walking around the house with the glass in his hand, a wide smile on his face while you sighed and puffed out the smoke, the sizzle from the mix going on the buttered pan audible before he speaked again.

“They just kept on telling me how fucking talented i am, how i get women so fucking well. I mean goddamn im such a fucking genius” he edged on, cocky as he stomped his feet at his words,’ such, a, fucking, genius’

“Yes you are tommy” you looked down and seen the mix bubbling, taking the spatula and flipping the pancake, shifting and leaning on your right leg as your dominant hand sat on your hip, the other holding onto the cig.

“But it’s confusing. Any other time they would probably fucking- what do you call it” he snapped his fingers before taking a sip. “Aha! Fucking cancel me!” He pointed at the ceiling. “Why would they do that tommy” you lifted your eyebrow, “youre only writing a good story” you sighed, looking at the plates and rubbing a mark that was left on them.

“People now days do it just because....just because their bored- or even because they dont like them- BUT-“ he lifted his finger towards you “they have no reason to”

“Mhm, you should wait for the reviews” you took the cigarette and put it in the ash tray, taking the fire out before putting the pancake on the plate.

“They have to be good! I can make fucking millions off of this” he smiled, quickly walking over before chugging his drink.

“Yes...yes you can” “and then we could buy a fucking island, a boat and even a horse!” He laughed, amazed and he set down the glass before coming behind you, pressing kisses to your neck as he watched you put the batter on the pan again.

“What makes you want a horse?” “What makes you think about reviews?” And with that you shrugged “just because a few reporters and new york news writers like it doesnt mean that everyone will”

“Why are you being so negative? Goddamn you bring the worst out of everything y/n” he let you go, and you looked at him, giving him the famous eyes.

“The worst? How about you go fuck yourself” you said, aggressively grabbing the spatula to flip the pancake. “Go fuck myself? Whats your problem”

You stayed silent, wondering if you should just go outside and smoke another cigarette or hear him bitch and moan. “Y/n you have a problem every other fucking day. I try to talk to you but you dont. You rather talk shit and let it marinate” he rested his hands on his hips and starred at you while you bit your lip and put the pancake on the plate, grabbing the syrup you put the right amount for him before aggressively walking to the table and slamming it down.

Your heels clanking against the floor as you made your way to the bathroom. Leaving tom by his self as he let out a harsh sigh and rubbed his chin, thinking about what he should do before finally grabbing a fork to eat his breakfast.

“You know. You do the same shit every night- you curse me out then the next hour you wanna suck my dick or something” you starred at yourself in the mirror, biting the side of your cheek before you took of the heels, then coming back out.

“How dare you, thomas” you said harshly, walking back to him and watching him eat the pancakes. “How about you be fucking mature and stop eating”

“No. I dont wanna fight” he shrugged, cutting the pancakes fancy before he placed them in his mouth. “Your such a fucking bitch” your eyes squinted as you leaned forward.

His eyebrows raised and he cleared his throat “a bitch?” He let out a loud laugh, tilting his head before coming back “i think we both know whos the bitch here”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” “Oh you know exactly what im talking about” and with that your jaw basically droppped to the floor “why are you suprised?”

“Have you ever thought-“ you caught your words before repeating them “im the reason why youre gonna get millions, if i was never there for you. If you were never in my life youd still be in that house that you hated so fucking much” you walked closer.

“Trust me baby you were apart of it, but you sure as hell werent the main character” “then please-please tell me who else was doing sex for money?” You asked, and he didn’t answer, instead continued to eat the pancakes.

That made you more aggressive, quickly walking to the table and snatching the plate. “How dare you have to nerve to talk shit about me while you eat what i made you”

“Fuck you y/n” “no fuck you!” He dropped the fork, his face becoming a shade of red. “Im the reason why youre in this fucking house right now, im the reason why you have that fucking ring on your finger” you said, then put your fingers on your ring.

“Dont you fucking dare take off that 50,000 thousand ring y/n” “why shouldnt i?” “Because you love me dont you, darling?” that made you soften up a bit, taking your fingers off the ring as he smiled, telling you to come over. He sat you on his lap, taking the cigarette out of his jacket that youre wearing, grabbing the lighter from his pocket.

You put the cigarette in your mouth and he repeated the same action, lighting it for you. “I love you y/n”

“Mhm” you smiled, taking out the cigarette to press your lips on his and he rubbing your hips, the passion over the tension in the room. “Oh well i thought the movie was shit, i uh- couldnt help but think thats not how it ends” you teased with an old grandma accent and he laughed.

“Yeah i did to, how does man get with a prostitute and marry them” he teased back making you both laugh. “The movie felt so real, it reminded me of my friend miranda” you playfully said with a more younger high pitched voice.

And it went back and forth, laughs leaving both of your lips until he pushed the buttons “man she really was a thot” your eyebrows furrowed as he laughed to his self. “Man he really was desperate for a blow job” you said in your serious voice “man i wonder why he hooked up with such a thot”

“I didnt mean it like that-“ “fuck you” you got off his lap and walked back to the bathroom. “Here you go again y/n!” He shouted, and you turned back around.

“Your so fucking selfish” “we werent even talking about that-“ “no fuck you. All you do is say i-i-i” you yelled, words strong. He stood up agitated “you know what you wanna argue, lets argue”

“You gave up on me” “if i gave up on you why would i marry you” “our love was strong in the beginning and then you just-became you” you looked at him up and down.

“That was because i was in love with your body” he smiled “really? Why didnt you just leave me on the fucking street!” You yelled again, “because I thought you deserved better, maybe you should still be in that fucking old apartment with fucking big ass rats running through it, men twice your age fucking your loose ass whole”

“FUCK YOU” you shouted pointing at him “maybe i shouldve used that sloopy mouth of yours to stay on my dick so you could stay shutting up” “NO FUCK YOU THOMAS” and with that you walked away, into the room this time before tom followed behind you.

“Please leave me the fuck alone before i flip out on you, please just leave” “no”

“You know what. I feel like once you feel like you gave everything they wanted and more you expect them to stay with your sorry ass” “oh im not sorry. And thats not true” he shrugged, standing infront of the door as you sat on the bed. “Im so embarrassed to call you my husband” you shook your head.

“Why shouldnt i be embarrassed to call you my wife?” He shrugged again, leaning against the door looking at you. “If it werent for me you wouldn’t be as happy as you are now” “what makes you think im happy y/n! Im really not” “and you think i am?!” You looked up at him, getting up and walking to him but he continued to back up, until you both were in the open hallway with a table in the middle of it.

“I was never happy in the first place” you said, eyes starting to tear up. “Dont give me fucking alligators-“ “do you know how embarrassing it is for someone to tell you to get your own fucking ride home because you wanna fuck someone else?” You asked, your voice changed as you wiped under your eye, smuding the makeup.

“I had to ask Harrison to give me a ride home. I was scared tom” you sighed, shoulders becoming slump. “What if i ran into somebody i fucked? And they forced me to have sex with them again or else theyd report me to the police?” You asked, breaking down and falling to the floor while tom watched, guilt and shame all ocer his face as he leaned against the table.

“I watched you with my two own eyes make out with someone then the next day you asked me to ride you. But you wanna slut shame me for being broke and needing to survive, that broke me so much. And i did it” you choked “i gave consent everytime, brusied my knees from getting on them for you. Just to make you happy. I let you get full of yourself and now its all about you” you whispered and he came down to you, holding you and pressing kisses on your hair while you broke down more, hiding away from him. “You let me stay out there on Christmas day” a frown met on his lips, thinking back on the day and how you were probably reallty cold, he knew you couldnt stand it.

“And i gave consent to getting married to you, your such a hoe” he couldnt help but chuckle “no seriously your a hoe to feeds for attention” you made eye contact with him, and then you both broke into laughs, sniffels leaving your lips causally but easily ignored knowing you feel slightly better.

And with that you both beard his phone ding, well multiple dings. You told him to answer it, check it. And it was a review, he stood up and helped you up, walking to the livingroom before going over to grab the glasses and remy, pouring it in both cups you both took one.

“Alright, this is from whats her name....janice!” He said, sitting on the couch and you sat between his legs in the floor, sipping the drink. “Overall the movie was great. But there was a few things that werent right in my opinion-“

With that his eyebrows furrowed, you played with the carpet as you waited for him to continue, he leaned forward with his elbow on his knee using his thumb to scroll. “I couldnt understand why the character had all these strange things about her, why the sex scenes were that necessary”

“Ding ding ding”

“Shut up y/n you arent helping- i don’t understand how jhon and candy got along and became freinds if they continue to have intercourse. What the fuck are you talking about? Bla bla bla” he muttered, skimming through it “how candy and ron got along? Shouldnt they be together of they clicked so well?”

A small laugh left your lips “me and Harrison? That wouldnt be so bad”

“How in the world did they get married? Honestly the whole relationship is toxic, but i see it as they were to late to give it up, they were already in a too tight knot. Thats not true we are madly in love with each other” he jerked his head at the phone.

“Ms janice does have a point” you cleared your throat a bit. “Y/n please. Ms janice has no fucking idea what shes talking about jhon and candy are in love with each other and they have problems sometimes....well most but oh well its not to late either one of them couldve got up and go”

“Not if one loved more then the other and it was to late to go, janice is right tom” you crossed your arms.

“Do you wanna-“ “no tom i dont. Just speaking my opinion, coming from a woman your being pretty harsh about it” “well it wasnt really about candy-“

“That doesnt make any sense, shes the main fucking character” you looked at him. “It was more on how jhon viewd candy” “then why was candy always in camera”

“Because...” he shrugged. “Your so dumb” you got up and sat far away from him on the couch, he eyed you in confusion “isnt that fucking movie based off of my life. Like im some type of experiment and you solved made something out of it” you dozed off, swirling the remy in your glass. “Im not feeding into this” he ignored you, until you got up and barked at him, which he looked at you as if you were crazy before doing it back “fucking prick!” You stomped off out of the livingroom and went outside.

“Fuckin-“ he couldnt come up with anything before he let out something random “fuckin mood swinger-“ you finally took the time to take off your makeup and dress, muttering words about him “thats why he stinks, smellin like a gorrila- asshole- man whore” you took a bath too, you didnt feel your best at the moment.

Tom on the other hand just took off his shoes and aggressively stomped on the pillows, throwing a tantrum and jumping on the couch and punching air, kicking it until he accidentally fell.

By time you were dont he thought about it “harsh?” He questioned and walked into the room, finding you reading a book on the bed with the night light on and a cigarette in your mouth.

“Y/n?” “Yes thomas?” You looked up at him “harsh?” He asked and you tilted your head at him “i wasnt being harsh about it” “mhm” you shut your book and set it on te night stand, he undressed until he was in his underwear and climbed into bed with tou.

“How was i being harsh about it” you sighed and rested the cigarette in the ashtray, not putting it out just yet. “You arent really aware of others feelings tommy” you said simply. “What does that mean?” He asked, crossing his arms and sitting up next to you, both backs against the headboard and he looked at you.

“It meas i loved you more then you loved me” his eyebrows furrowed at the statement “that cant be true” “tom it is. You didnt say it but you did. You only wanted me for my body. My love and soul came later and i was to blind to notice. That was my bad”

“Loved?” He questioned. “I think i started to love you less and got on a even level with you, then we built together” you shrugged, crossed a leg over your other one and crossing your arms to. He let out a small laugh, “you know i never understood why jhon died in the end and why candy committed suicide” you said and his heart sunk a bit low.

He cleared his throat before saying something “i know you’re afraid of losing me, y/n. I never told you this but ive read your journal” he nodded his head and you bit your lip, knowing every single letter you wrote and how much it sucked thinking back about those days.

“I know how much you loved me but hated me. But something really grabbed my heart. ‘I want to keep tom, hes like my soulmate. My hearts gotton closer by every minute and moment ive been with him. Even though i feel like ive been burned by some of the things hes done, id forever love him. Losing him would be like losing me entirely’”

“I still don’t understand” you mutter, silently wondering how he knew word by word. “I took advantage of that. Because when i was done reading it i knew it was true, it is true. I couldnt feel it in my heart, thats why i picked you up and took care of you. I noticed you really care for me and ive done nothing but asked you to suck me off, i thought i was making both of us happy by giving you what you needed, or wanted. I became so happy when we got closer, you told me about your new apartment and i was so excited, but it wasn’t because of me entirely. I wanted you to myself. I needed you to myself and you needed it too. So if you lost me you would lose everything, give up on love.” Everything he said was true, it wasnt what you wanted to hear but he needed you to hear the truth.

“So candy gave up on it” he shrugged “she didnt try because there was no need to, she didn’t think anyone else would love her, ‘without tom i have no one else, i know ive done some un speakable thigns with him but i can tell by his eyes and heart that he wants something, he just wont tell me’” he smiled, quoting off of your journal again with a smile on his lips. “Thats why i try every time to keep this relationship strong, go to therapy with you, kiss you and tell you how beautiful you are everyday, cook you breakfast when i know your trying to do something new”

“So youre only doing this because you dont want me to kill myself?” “No y/n. I did it at first but then i opened my eyes and noticed how much i really fucking love you” he uncrossed his arms and reached for your hand. “And i know you love me too, on a even page” you both shared a crooked smile, using your free hand and grabbing the cigarette and putting it to your lips. The time currently 4:30 in the morning as he reached for the cig, your eyebrows furrowed as you let him take it. “Since when do you smoke?”

“Since i had too much of your bullshit” “shut up” you both laughed, slapping his chest as he handed it back, a small laugh leaving his lips. “Im sorry for giving you such a headache” he muttered and you ignored it, putting out the cigarette and turning off the night light, keeping your distance from him you got under the covers and shut your eyes, and he did the same, turning away from you so you are back to back.

A smell of bacon filled your nose when you woke up, a faint smile on your lips as you got up, walking to the kitchen and finding thomas cooking.

“Whats the special occasion?” “I know youre trying something new”

[axiang-n-chengling-s-dads]

Baek Kyung: The Writer’s Stand-In

“In this messed-up world, the only moment I can be myself is when I’m with you on the stage. In both the previous book and this book, the Baek Kyung that the writer draws in our scenes is the real me.”

Baek Kyung is a well-written and complex character, who starts off as Dan Oh’s antithesis, under the writer’s control and slowly break’s free from his previous identity to find his real self.

Dan Oh’s Antithesis

“Think about it. Was there anything that changed as you’d intended? In the end we’re following the writer’s story.”

Baek Kyung while not exactly the writer’s stand-in, is someone who challenges Dan Oh constantly on her beliefs, and for a very long time represents the way the writer views things.

He is the one who points out that they couldn’t ultimately change anything, going against both Dan Oh and Haru’s faith in their power to change the story.

This comes mostly from the fact that Baek Kyung is unable to shake off the writers influence on him.

“You’ll change the story which has been drawn already? (...) How can you be sure if the writer is still drawing this or if he’s finished it already?”

Baek Kyung is also the one who points out that events are repeating themselves from the previous book, as are the lines, and suggests that the writer is more in control of them than they think. He is also the one to tell Dan Oh that it was Haru who killed her in the previous book, with the staunch belief that Haru will eventually lead to Dan Oh’s downfall.

“You cannot leave me because you’re not supposed to. That’s your fate. That’s the reason why you were born and existed to this day.” -Trumpet Creeper, to Haru

“You’ll always have to stay by my side. That’s just who you are.”- Secret, to Dan Oh

Another writer’s belief that Baek Kyung upholds is the belief in this hierarchy of extras and main characters. He believes in the realness of the stage, and that the character’s drawn by the writer for them are their true selves.

“Everything is back in its place. Its better for Dan Oh too. At least she wont suffer between the gap of the stage and shadow.”

Baek Kyung also believes in the bliss of ignorance as opposed to the burden of knowledge. When he comes to know that characters that die in the shadow lose their self-awareness, he says it wouldn’t be a bad way to be, even if you only experienced emotions the writer wrote for you and had to lose all your memories.

The Monster

“I desperately wanted everything to go back to its place. I’d hoped the stage was the reality. But it wasn’t the real you on stage. And wishing to keep you by my side knowing that you weren’t yourself, makes me a monster.”

Under the writer’s control, Baek Kyung starts off as a cold, wounded character, Dan Oh’s distant fiance. As his character, his behaviour ranges from stand-offish to downright cruel sometimes.

As Dan Oh gains self-awareness and changes as a person, Baek Kyung notices. He notices the changes in her and the entry of Haru.

He starts to gain self-awareness once, in the shadows, he begins to fall for Dan Oh and begins to regret his harsh actions on stage.

“You don’t know how I was always alone, outside the stage.”

It is important to understand the reason for his personality remaining largely unchanged from his stage self is because, unlike Dan Oh, Do Hwa, or Ju Da, Baek Kyung is unable to separate the identity the author has given him.

He also cannot divorce himself from his set up. He still grieves and blames his mother who left him when he was young, and also distances himself from Dan Oh because she reminds him of his mother. He believes that her terminal conditions means that she will leave him one day too.

“You said you didn’t know if the Eun Dan Oh in my memory was real or fake. But I wish she was real. There must be a reason why everything’s going back to what it was before.”

Like I said before, Baek Kyung thinks that the stage is the reality. When Dan Oh’s ten-year crush seems to disappear into thin air, and she claims it was fake all along, Baek Kyung is hurt and confused. For him, as for her, the memories of their childhood together were real, even if they were just a part of their set-ups.

"Light pink roses mean, ‘Only you know how I feel.’”

Another problem he has because of his fear of abandonment is that he guards his emotions very closely, and therefore they’re always painfully left unsaid. By the time he comes around to confessing to them, it is too late.

Dan Oh has already found happiness elsewhere, and is adamant in changing the stage.

“You cant help it Sae-Mi, youre the villain. (...) You need to tell them what their role is.”

In his bid to stop her from changing the stage, and his frustration with his character and the writer, Baek Kyung realises how fully he has turned into the role of the villain. Both in the stage and in the shadow, in this book and in the previous one too, he is always placed against Dan Oh in an antagonistic manner. This arc is completed when he removes her oxygen mask in the hospital and is shown that he was the one who’d killed her in ‘Trumpet Creeper’.

It is here that his worst fears come true: he was the reason why everyone he loved left him-- he was the real monster.

The Real Baek Kyung

“You (Dan Oh) are the only person who really knows me.”

Funnily enough, for someone who thought he was Dan Oh’s beginning, it is Eun Dan Oh herself who becomes the beginning of the new, the real Baek Kyung as the show draws to a close.

“They are cliches, but we’re the only ones who know how cruel and sad this is. Because we’re just Dan Oh and Baek Kyung before our characters.The Dan Oh of ‘Secret’ wants to thank you, and the Dan Oh of ‘Trumpet Creeper’ forgives you.”

Having blamed himself for her death in Trumpet Creeper and mistreatement in Secret, Baek Kyung could only truly rid himself of the writer’s clutches if he separated himself from his stage self. Eun Dan Oh’s acknowledgement of their stage roles, and of their relationship off-screen let’s him break free from the cycle of resentment and revenge.

“You can go in my place. Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m doing this because I hate the writer.”

The second step in his transition is undermining the stage. As someone who fully believed in the stage’s authority, the moment where he actively works to change it is important-- he finally does the right thing helping Dan Oh recover her true self, and sheds his identity as the monster.

“(...) or hate each other from now on. Let’s put the past behind us.”

The truce with Jimmichi Fairy is also an important one. Along with Dan Oh, his character in the previous book had also harmed Jimmichi Fairy. Remembering is only painful for them because of the grudges they hold. Letting them go, and forgiving each other, Baek Kyung, JF, and Haru finally resolve their conflict, ensuring that Secret, or any book in the future does not meet a violent ending like Trumpet Creeper did.

“I am grateful that the writer made me your younger brother.”

“Thats the funniest thing you ever told me.”

“I mean it. Because that means I’m always by your side.”

This is the final step in Baek Kyung’s journey of self-discovery. Baek Kyung was someone who always felt as though he was alone, pushing away his brother even after he found out that Baek Joon-Hyun was also self-aware. Like before, he could not leave behind their setups-- he was not his real brother, but the son of the woman who’d tried to replace his mother.

Admitting that he needs Baek Joon-Hyun, and letting the latter love him, Baek Kyung finally leaves behind his old self completely, and finally finds the Real Baek Kyung.

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Kingdom Collisions XVII

masterlist; my links

CW: blood, death

Phew, when i first started this fic (way back when in august last year, i think) i didn’t expect it to become a multi-chapter nor did i expect it to go in literally any of the directions it went in. with each new chapter the boys cooked up something different and apparently more and more dark. nonetheless this has been one of the most absolute fun, exciting, and rewarding fics i’ve ever put out there because 1. i just kind of did whatever i liked with it (plot holes be damned) and 2. because the interaction i got from this fic was mind-boggling. Every plot twist brought a gasp, an angst gremlin, and a sweet supporter to my doorstep (i cant name anyone because you all swopped roles continuously). 

when i started writing this chapter tbh i was dreading it because how on earth do i get myself out of the sheer monstrosity that i dug myself into in the last one? but i wrote some words and even though they were all wrong and it was only seven hundred of them at least i had written something you know? but then i was at the beach and the ocean water was shoving itself into my lungs and the salt was stinging my eyes and i literally couldn’t have been happier if i tried and suddenly i just kind of knew what i wanted to write... or rather i knew i wanted to write and these troublesome princes knew how they wanted their story to close. yes, indeed, close. somehow, without me realising it, we kind of got to the last chapter. i truly didn’t think this would be it but with each word i put down it just kept drawing closer and closer to a close. and i can’t force this fic to be anything but what it is. So, my dear ones, this is the last chapter of Kingdom Collisions. thank you for coming along, i hope with all my heart you enjoyed it even a fraction as much as i did. I love these Princes so hard and Nish, Gretch, and A can tell you how sad i was to see them end. Nonetheless, please enjoy!

Since it’s been a hot minute since the previous chapter, here’s a recap:

Prince Jason Grace stumbles from the mouth of the arena and falls to his knees in front of the platform.

“Kill him Perseus.” A voice glimmers around him, leaking in through the ringing in his ears.

“Come home Prince,” That voice lilts, “Do not die so far from the sea.”

Jason looks up at him, blue eyes hazy, a dagger loose in his clasp. “Hello Prince.”

Percy steps down from the platform, and takes the dagger from his husband’s hands. It is almost sickening how easily he gives it over.

The crowd stomps its feet: they are ready for blood; they are ready for slaughter.

He holds the dagger up, making sure it glints in the sun. And then he draws his husband close until there is nothing between their bodies, not space, not even air.

“Let’s go home my love.” He whispers. “We will not die so far from the sea.”

Prince Perseus Jackson brings the blade down.

[image has alt text]

We’ll never get free// lamb to the slaughter// what you gon’ do when there’s blood in the water

Prince Perseus Jackson knows he’s going to die today. It is not a feeling, or a morbid premonition. It is the cold, hard truth. If he does not the world will continue to suffer for it. And what kind of prince would he be if he allowed his people to suffer? His father would say he’d be a coward. His father did not know the meaning of the word until he screamed as a blade sunk into his chest. Percy wonders how a man made from the Rivers themselves, can die by knife. He supposes when you spend long enough pretending to be human, you die like one too.

All the same Percy must take his last breath today, before the setting sun has managed to hide for the night. Before the darkness can wrap around his bones like cigarette smoke, and keep him trapped once more. 

But first, Percy must kill his husband. 

The crowd is violent; their need for bloodshed a hyena’s cackle in his head. He cannot keep them out. He cannot keep them at bay. It drives into his blood, makes every dangerous drop slosh through him, as wild as the rivers of his father. As wild as the blue eyes staring him down.

Perseus Jackson looks at his husband, barely an inch apart, so close it seems no room is left for air. He can’t breathe, so it must have been pushed away, pushed out. Those blue eyes, as striking as the brilliant sky above them, are looking at him with so much�� sorrow, love, joy, rage? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know and it terrifies him. He knows and that scares him more. Prince Jason Grace is looking at him with delight and it makes him want to sin.

“I will find you again, my love.” His lips brush the sensitive skin of his ear. He feels that beautiful body shudder underneath him.

The musician’s box echoes with the notes of the wind, a melody that rackets around in his head, bouncing off the walls of his memories. He has died to this tune many times. Died as a king, and a peasant, and a squallor, and a whore, and every form of human scum and royalty alike. They all bleed the same in the end. All die with regrets on their tongue, and the unconquering falsehood of love in their hearts, as if that alone is enough to save them. He has never been safe from death. But love saves him all the same. He wonders if he will die again.

“I will not be lost.” Jason whispers back, so quiet, so full of sweet darkness.

Percy slams the blade into his Jason’s heart and watches as the light from beckoning eyes morphs into a smile that surrenders the world. He doesn’t acknowledge the warmth at his side. There is only his Prince, his husband, his other half, his, his, his. 

“I will be waiting.” Jason Grace grins. Jason Grace dies.

Already he can feel the absence of his other. It is not a dull ache, nor a sharp one. It is not really an ache at all. Rather as if a veil has been placed over him, leeching the world of colour and light. Leeching him of any goodness. What is a destroyer, without his healer?

The Prince of Mare pulls the knife out of his husband’s chest and holds it up to the crowd. His smile dances, violence coating the angles of his face like a liquid mask. The colosseum responds in vigour, chanting his name, chanting the name of Princess Piper Mclean, chanting victory as if they’ve won. Dust begins to settle at his feet, settle then jump as they jump, then settle once more. And endless dance. He knows the score by heart. 

“What you have witnessed today my good people,” The woman in power stands in her box, surveying the scene before her with triumph in her brown, glinting eyes. “Is the beginning of forever, again.”

The people cheer, clap, stomp their feet, make the stone underneath them quiver.

A drop of blood falls to the floor.

“We have completed what our ancestors could not. We have made sure that the threat— ” She sneers at them; at him in his bloodied rags, and the husband still in his arms, limp and fast growing cold. “The threat of Our Downfall may never rise from the ashes.”

The deafening sound of celebration is a vice around his throat. He wants to rip the air from their lungs, make their joy a noose around their necks. They celebrate the loss of a life as if it were the birth of a thousand more; they celebrate the death of his husband as if they had won the war. But they have never seen war. And his past selves, rushing up to him in these moments, like reeling pictures, smile at the prospect. They seem to gather in his mind, grinning with endless terror and say, so very softly, “You think this is war? We’ve only just begun.”

We’ll never get free// lamb to the slaughter// what you gon’ do when there’s blood in the water

“My people,” Piper’s voice is a lull in the tides, a blind comfort to distract from the storm ahead. “We have severed the wings of a phoenix so it may never rise again.”

The crowd stomps, he stomps with them. A fissure runs under his feet, small, unnoticeable. Blood drips down, down, down, into the cracks. There is nothing left for him here. He smiles, soft and small. It is a smile only he knows exists.

With a gentleness he does not possess for anyone else but the man before him he lays his husband down, wincing as the dusty platform touches that beautiful golden skin. But he does not have time to make it clean. To give him a worthy place to rest. He only has right now. Eternity is a second in itself.

And when Prince Perseus stands, straight and unburdened. He reveals the last piece in a twisted puzzle. For sticking out of his own side— the side his prince was pressed against— is a dagger of his own. One that is killing him slowly.

The people are still cheering, Princess Piper is still revelling in her glory. She looks ethereal up on her dais, every bit the goddess she craves to be. Her brown skin shines in the brightening sun, her black hair flowing down, down, down past her hips, swishing at her thighs. And the crown that sits on her head, perched there as if it was too scared to be trapped to such power, glints almost menacingly, jewels reflecting onto the people closest to her. To the woman at her side. Annabeth, sister to Jason, lover to Piper, and honorary daughter of Hekima, sees him. Sees all of him and goes as pale as the moon. She grabs her lover’s arm, points a shaky finger in their direction, at the blade in his side.

The look of horror on their faces is almost enough to make him laugh; it’s certainly enough to make him smile. He watches on as their plans unravel, remembering the deadly words Piper had said to him all those days ago. “Instead we will kill one of you and keep the other continually alive.” But what good would that do, if he had killed them both, if he made sure his blood was smeared across his husband’s wound; if he made sure his husband’s blood could not be used to heal them. He has become the destroyer they so badly wanted. 

Prince Perseus Jackson falls to his knees, at the symphony of a princess’s screech. And as he looks to his side, his fingers find the cool hand of Jason Grace. The sky is a lover’s blue. He closes his eyes. He finds his husband amongst the dead. And ever so slowly, the colosseum starts to crumble. For the blood from his wound seeps into the cracks running rivers of their own, and eats at the stone that holds the people, the power, the world. He has become his father. His mind is fill of his own stories, just like his mother. He feels the cold band on his husband’s finger. He becomes life.

We’ll never get free// lamb to the slaughter// what you gon’ do when there’s blood in the water

The walls behind her turn to dust in slow motion. She sees particles fall, land at her feet in never-ending waterfalls. Her gaze tilts to the sky where she half expects to find it raining blue, as if the whole world would collapse on top of them. She can hear the screaming, she doesn’t known if it’s joy or fear. Sh doesn’t know if anyone has realised what’s just happened, if they know the true extent of her failure. 

“PIPER!” That voice is so far away, but it is one she recognizes. One she has loved since she was left on a lover’s bench ten years prior. “We have to go, we have to stop it from reaching the water.”

A pale hand gestures in front of her, to the crimson rivers speeding across the ground. They are the prettiest canals she’s ever seen. She wants to— 

“PIPER,” The time for shock has gone, and in it’s place is a violent need to save herself, to be saved. “We have to get out of here, this whole place is going to come down.”

When she looks to Annabeth, grey eyes bright with fear, she is struck with feeling so deep she fears she may drown. It wouldn't’ matter; she’ll be dead before she gets to submerge.

“My people,” Her voice is loud, blessedly steady, as she surveys the uneasy crowd who are only now noticing the red brooks bubbling up to meet them. “We must leave here at once. The colosseum is no longer safe. I urge you to go home to your famililes, to pack important things and make your way as far from the oceans and rivers as possible. Danger is here, and it is not a force we can fight.”

A thousand eyes look at her, emotions blatant on their faces ranging from denial, to anger, to fear, to the worst of them all, resignation. Those are the ones, she knows, who have lived through this before, in some way or the other. Whether in a past life, or the echo of their current one through stories carried down.

The ground underneath them shakes, making their feet stumble, their legs quiver. It is laughing at them, at the idea that they can escape this destruction. It has done this a thousand times before, it will do it a thousand more. The end has never been about them. They cannot escape it, no matter where they run, how hard they pray. And people are. Praying. They don’t know it is their gods who order this. Their gods who have no care for the lives of them when they can create a million more. In the end they are pawns to an endless game of chess. The first to be discarded, despite how hard they fight to prove useful. And Jason, her lover’s brother, and Perseus, her own ex lover, are soldiers sent to do their duty. Pawns themselves, maybe knights. But gods they have never been, and gods they will never become.

Annabeth’s hand is warm in hers as they race to their death. Her blonde curls fly behind her and Piper thinks it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. And then the princess looks to her and she changes her mind. With each glance, each step, each squeeze of their skin, she changes and changes and changes. Until the beauty cannot be pinned to a single thing, until it is a tapestry continuously incomplete, of all the features that make up her love. If she— when, when she dies she will do it with this image in her mind.

And then they’re at the river, the one that feeds her kingdom, the one that runs into to the forest and branches to the five other kingdoms, before feeding into Perseus’s own and out to the ocean. There is no red tainting it’s glistening blue. They have time, maybe, just maybe they have time to save the only home they have ever known, the only one they ever will. 

We’ll never get free// lamb to the slaughter// what you gon’ do when there’s blood in the water

Quickly, with a haste she has never seen, Annabeth pulls a single match from her pocket.

“Will you grant me permission, my love?” Her princess nods to the little stick.

There is only one way to stop a stream from turning towards a river. She nods. “For the kingdoms.”

“For the kingdoms.” The blonde echoes. She strikes the match.

Sunshine yellow flame bursts from the small head, and as it settles it turns orange, blue, goes back to yellow. Annabeth lets it fall to the floor.

And they both watch, flames dancing in their eyes, as the little match catches a dry leaf, which catches dry wood, which catches, and catches, and catches.

They clasp hands, look at each other. Piper runs a finger down a freckled cheek, skin already so warm from the blaze before them.

“Let us live.” Her princess whispers.

They jump into the river. The forest burns to an inferno behind them.

But there, trickling slowly, as if it has all the time in the world, is a single stream of blood. It creeps through the forest, turning already charring soil to nothing. The fire jumps over it, around it, beyond it. The fire does not stop it. 

A single drop of blood catches on a shard of blackened stick, once a match, and as the wind blows it carries the wood over over over. It lands in the river. The stick floats away. The blood spreads wide.

And two princesses, still hand in hand, frantically swimming for their life, start to crumble to ash, like the forest they had left to burn.

We’ll never get free// lamb to the slaughter// what you gon’ do when there’s blood in the water

Perseus Jackson opens his eyes to sky blue, ice blue, saviour blue. And he cannot help but smile.

“Where have you been, my love?”

“Just had to take care of some things before i could join you.” He reaches up a hand to caress a golden cheek, warm and reddening under his touch.

“Are we finally free?” That voice is so soft, full of angled hope.

“Till the next time.” He sees that hope startle and shape before him, as if it can bend to fit around steeled will.

“What shall we do while we wait?”

“As long as we are together,” He brushes back a lock of gold. “It does not matter to me.”

“Might i suggest, staying here for the next decade at the very least?” A laughing reply, one that heats him to his bones.

“Your wish,” His green eyes sparkle dangerously, deliciously, “Is my salvation.”

“Wicked, wicked being.” Lips find his, press to him. It is so familiar, and somehow new all at once. As if the shadows they are made from need to get used to the light within them once more. As if they have not done this for a millennia, longer. 

“I cannot help it when i’m with you.”

“And you are always with me,” Those blue eyes set him on fire.

“Yes,” He says simply. He touches the golden chest, the heart within. His heart.

“What shall we be in the next life?” The question is soft against his skin, raising bumps across his arms.

“I think i shall be a painter,” He muses, lips falling to a shoulder. They trace their way up, catching on collarbones and the crook of a neck, and the dimple behind an ear. “And you, my sweet? How do you intend for us to meet?”

“I think i shall like to be your nude model.” That grin is enough to cause a flush through his form.

“And who will be our heroes?”

“The queen of course.” The blonde’s voice gets conspiratorially low, “I’m her favourite servant you see, and she cannot bear the idea of anyone else seeing me naked.”

He cannot hold in his laughter, the mind of his other half an endless stream of amusement. “And how do we intend to end it this time?”

“That’s up to you dear one.” The being curled into him smiles, “I can only heal, and you know i will only heal you.”

“You make me such a villian.” His expression is violent, and beautiful, so so beautiful.

“We have never been anything else.” 

He stares into the face of eternal love and is struck by the thought that it is all for him, that it has only ever been for him. He cradles a golden face in his hand, and with a deep unhurried breath, kisses Jason.

For the infinite time in his endless life, Perseus tastes fire.

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Tags (if you want to be added to/ taken off the tag list just let me know, all my channels of communication are open):

@nishlicious-01 : to Nish for loving this fic harder than anyone, and for loving me harder still.

@queen-of-demons-and-hell : to Gretch for always being there even though were many countries, and many timezones apart

@leyontheway : to Ley for the endless and unwavering support and for making me smile no matter what

@sparkythunderstorm : to Lily for the continuous love and the wonderful comments

@comradefurudate : to avatar for the hilarious interactions and for loving this the way you did. Your comments made my day.

@aalikun : to ali for the theories and the comments that made me smile so hard my cheeks hurt

to A : you don’t have a tumblr account but you asked if you could read one of my fanfics and i sent you this one and you sent me back a 3 minute long voice note telling me every reason you loved it and i cannot begin to explain to you how much it means to me. i listen to the vn all the time. i love you.

and to every single one of you who liked, and/or commented on this fic: you are special to me in every way that matters and i think about you all the time.

[sauntered-vaguely-downward]

Maybe it is Love? Geralt x Reader

So... lockdown going well... here have some smut for Geralt because while I cant literally fuck the witcher... I can at least write shitty fanfic about fucking him in these dark times. Also this is kinda long so........ sorry. 

Warnings: SMUT DONT READ THIS IF YOU ARE NOT OF AGE IN YOURE COUNTRY (OR JUST DONT LIKE SMUT)

“To be honest, I’m choosing not to listen to you.” Geralt grunted, keeping his eyes focused on Jaskier in front of him, drinking the ale from his cup.

“Why won’t you just let me help! For fuck sake Geralt, you’ll happily have me follow you around but god forbid you would ever let me actually be part of the action,” she all but screamed at him. “Your bard has been involved in more fights than me and unlike him, I don’t scream when monsters come running at me.”

“I do not scream,” Jaskier tried to protest only to be cut off by the pair saying in unison,

“Yes, you do.” Jaskier having been put in his place once again by the pair settled back into his seat, listening to an argument that he had heard a thousand times before at this point. It always happened after Geralt had a run-in with a monster. Geralt would make sure Y/N was out of harm's way, claiming she was far too delicate to be involved in such matters, he would then kill the beast on his own and spend the rest of his days following his fight with whatever monster it may be arguing with Y/N. No matter how much she protested Geralt would never give in and let her learn how to help him.

“Y/N,” Geralt sighed, putting his ale down before focusing his attention on her. “I do not say it to be harsh, but the simple fact is you do not have the skills to even begin learning how to defend yourself against any of the beasts that roam the earth. You have no experience, you were just a silly little girl I let come with us because you refused to go back to your boring life in that sodding village we found you in, not because I wanted you here. You shouldn’t even be here. Stop pestering me about it or you can go back to that fucking village, you know what, maybe that would be best anyway, you are of no help to either of us here.”

Y/N’s chest hurt a little at the words that fell from his lips. She knew he was right, but she thought that after the time they had spent together he would perhaps have grown to see her at least as a friend and want her to stay by his side even just for the company. Every time they had this argument it had usually just ended up with him making an empty promise about helping her learn to defend herself, but this time it got more personal. She hated thinking that she was nothing more than an annoyance to Geralt, she only wanted to learn to defend herself so he wouldn’t have to if she learnt to fight she could try her best and keep him safe just as he did for her.

Rising from her seat she brushed herself down, downed the last of her ale before making her way up to her room in the inn in which they were staying that night. She didn’t wish to continue this conversation, nor did she wish to be around either of them anymore.

Geralt ignored her departure from their table in the tavern, finishing off his ale and ordering another. Jaskier, on the other hand, watched as she walked through the crowded tavern, her usually cheerful spirit seemingly destroyed.

“You’re a dick you know that?” Jaskier spat at Geralt.

“I only spoke the truth, not my fault if she couldn’t handle it,” Geralt replied, his tone remaining as even as it always did.

“Oh, so you’re a liar and a dick?”

“A liar?”

“Yes! You know full fucking well that you don’t want her to go anywhere! You like having her around as much as you like having me around!”

“I don’t much like that either,” Geralt hummed.

“Oh shut up. You should go say sorry,” Jaskier said, sipping at his drink. “You like travelling with her. I’ve seen the way you look at her when she dances drunkenly in the bars, or the smile on your face when she stands up for you, or the bigger smile on your face when she stands up for herself. For pity's sake, you even let her sit on Roach when she’s tired of walking, I’m not even allowed to touch the bloody horse let alone ride it.”

“Fine, I like her company, but she cannot be put in harm's way,” Geralt said more quietly than usual. If it was possible for his voice to ever be considered soft, now would be one of those times. “I won’t allow her to train if it means it will put her in danger's path, I want to keep her safe not help send her to an early grave.”

“Oh oh oh…” Jaskier grinned, leaning back in his chair. “If it wasn’t for the fact you’re a witcher and supposedly not able to love… I’d say you’ve fallen for our feminine companion.”

“Be quiet,” Geralt barked.

“No,” Jaskier grinned back smugly. “You like her, that’s why you don’t want her hurt. You know shes capable but you’re scared of losing her aren’t you. My my, the mighty witcher has fallen for a normal village girl.”

Geralt kept silent, staring into the dark ale in the cup in his hands. Jaskier was sadly correct. Geralt knew she was able to learn to at least wield a sword, but Geralt wouldn’t let her do it because he was scared, he didn’t know what he felt for her, but he knew it was more than he an emotionless witcher was ever meant to feel.

He had only originally kept her around because much like the bard, she seemed adamant to stay regardless of whether he wanted her there or not. As she travelled more with him, Geralt found her presence a comfort to return to after he had wrestled with the beasts and monsters. Whether they were in some crappy inn, or under the stars in the night sky, every night they spent together, just enjoying each others company, listening to the bard strum at his lute, Geralt found himself getting lost in the joy that radiated off of her or the beauty that covered every inch of her.

Jaskier’s voice brought Geralt back to the tavern they were in.

“You need to apologise, she seemed really hurt by what you said.” Jaskier was, sadly, correct. As much as Geralt hated admitting to being in the wrong, he knew it was best he went and say sorry for his harsh and false words.

“Fine,” getting up Geralt made followed the path she had taken out of the tavern, stopping only once when he heard the bard shout,

“YOU SHOULD ALSO TELL HER HOW YOU FEEL!” To which Geralt found the nearest empty glass and hurled it at the bards head, narrowly missing, before continuing out towards the inn just a few doors down.

When he found her room he was hesitant to knock on the door, knowing the woman behind it would be hurting. With a gentle knock, he waited patiently for her to open it.

“Jaskier if that’s you I’m really not in the mood to talk right now ok…” opening the door Y/N was surprised to see Geralt at her door. Geralt wasn’t exactly the check on her when she was down kind of man. Still hurting from his comments, she snapped at him, “What the fuck do you want witcher?”

“Please let me in so I can apologise,” he pleaded, something he was not used to doing. “I did not mean to hurt your feelings, nor did I mean those words that I said.”

She studied him for a moment, taking great interest in his face, checking to see if he was lying to her. When she didn’t detect any hint of sarcasm or the trace of a lie she stepped back, allowing him into her room.  

Geralt was a little taken back by the sight before him. Y/N had started to pack the small number of belongings she had into her bag, leaving only the clothes on her back out of the bag.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to the village you found me in,” she said, shutting the door behind the man. “You were right, I’m no use to you, I only came along because I wanted more from life, but I guess I was wrong for looking for it at your side. I’m going to head out in the morning, a man a few doors down has a horse he’s willing to sell me so I can make my way back on my own, that way I won’t be bothering you or Jaskier anymore.” Geralt could feel the sadness in her voice as she spoke, he could see just how his words had hurt her as she finished packing up the last of her things.

“You will do no such thing,” he said in his gruff tone. “What I said was not true, you are helpful, and well…” Geralt wasn’t quite sure how to get the next words out. Taking in a deep breath, he continued, “well I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy your company as we travel.”

“That’s sweet of you to say, don’t worry you are forgiven, but you were right,” she said softly. “I’m just in the way, and I certainly don’t have it in me to ever be able to defend myself against the beasts like you. I’m better off just going back to my family, I’m sure they’ll be delighted, they can finally marry me off for the price of a cow… or maybe a sheep, I’m not quite sure how much I’d be worth in farm animals.”

“You are worth more than any farm animal, Y/N. Look, I will let you learn to fight, but only the basics for now. I… I didn’t want to teach you in case you got hurt. I don’t know what Jaskier… or I would do without your company.”

“You didn’t want me to get hurt? That’s why you wouldn’t let me learn? Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

“Because it sounds so fucking pathetic… sounds like something Jaskier would sing about.”

Y/N didn’t quite know what to say. The idea of Geralt, a man known for his inability to care, suddenly telling her that he did actually want her around and didn’t want her hurt left her a little bit speechless.

Geralt was also not sure quite what to say. He wanted to leave it there, walk away and pretend that this hadn’t ever happened, that he hadn’t shown her his weakness, but he also knew he couldn’t. The slightly smug bard downstairs would simply not allow him to continue on his life as though he didn’t have feelings for the woman standing before him.

“Fuck it…” Geralt whispered, quickly thinking on his next words before he opened his mouth. “Witchers aren’t meant to have weaknesses, it’s a reason we are not supposed to feel. Feeling leads to weakness which can lead to downfall.”

“I know, you’ve said this a thousand ways before,” Y/N said softly. Before she could continue Geralt reached out his hand for her, pulling her closer to him, not too close that their bodies were touching but enough that each could feel the heat radiating off of each other's bodies. “Geralt…”

“If I could keep this to myself I would, but Jaskier knows so if I don’t say it the singing bastard will instead,” Y/N wasn’t quite sure where this was going, it wasn’t like Geralt to beat around the bush, he was usually so blunt and direct with everything, this was unlike him. She, of course, knew where she wanted this to go, she wanted him to pull her in closer, for him to make her feel wanted, but deemed that unlikely. “I have feelings towards you that are more than what I have ever felt for a person in my life, I won’t name it as simply because I do not know what those feelings are, but I do know that even the idea of you being taken from me makes me feel a pain I have never felt before.” Geralt silenced, not quite used to speaking of a subject like this he became unsure of how to proceed from there. Looking down at Y/N, he tried his best to read her, to find out what was going on in her mind, but she looked nothing but stunned and confused.

Y/N was very much stunned and confused. Geralt, the big bad witcher, was to put it simply, telling her he felt for her, cared for her, perhaps even loved her. Sure she had wanted to hear him say that for quite some time but never imagined it to be true. As the cogs worked in her head, trying to understand what it was that she had just been told, Geralt went to pull away feeling embarrassed, something he did not find himself feeling often.

Her hand held his tight, pulling him back to her, a smile now gracing her lips as she reached up on her tippy toes, pulling him gently in for a kiss. He was hesitant at first, still unsure of himself, but as her hand came up to rest on his cheek, allowing herself to deepen the kiss, Geralt eased kissing her back gently. Their hands found each other's hair, the kiss getting deeper and more desperate as they pulled each other closer.  

As the kiss became more intense, the heat began to prickle on her skin, a burning desire for his hands to touch every inch of her rolled over her. Geralt, while not someone who understood his feelings, was certainly a man who understood a woman's body. Feeling the desperation in her kiss, he pulled away, turning her in his arms before gently releasing her of the corset she had been wearing atop her dress. As each ribbon became looser, the garment began to fall away, allowing Geralt to pull her closer to him once more, his lips kissing softly at her neck while his hand came up to massage her breast. Keeping one arm locked around her torso, keeping her still, Geralt couldn’t help the arousal evident in his trousers as he heard the breathy moans escaping her lips.

Carefully, so as not to hurt the woman he cared for, Geralt picked Y/N up, turning her in his arms allowing her lips to once again find his. Her legs wrapped around his waist, as her core met with the erection in his, she pressed herself down against his clothed cock, earning herself a deep groan from the man.

“If you do that again, I will have no choice but to fuck you,” he growled, biting at her lower lip, before his lips once again found her neck, his kisses rougher than before, leaving little marks in their wake.

A sly grin was on her face as she pushed herself down again. Before she could even have time to respond, Geralt had her on the bed, particularly tearing away her soft dress and undergarments, leaving her bare to him. The heat that pricked her skin was not because of embarrassment, no, it was out of lust. Seeing him as he ripped off his own clothing before climbing back on top of her, his cock nudging at her clit as he kissed her, one hand holding his body weight above her while the other found her entrance, slowly pushing two fingers inside her, it was all too much for her. As his fingers worked themselves in and out quicker and harder, she couldn't stop the moan that escaped her lips,

“Oh god, please just fuck me,” she whined. “If I’m going to come I want it to be on your cock, not your fingers, ah, pleaseee.”

“Mhmm, listening to you beg for my is perhaps one of the most wonderful sounds I have ever heard,” Geralt was, of course, happy to fulfil her request, slowly replacing his fingers with his cock, careful not to hurt her. He gave her time to adjust before he could no longer contain himself, his pace going from slow and careful to animalistic. His lips found her breasts, biting, sucking, marking her as he went. The string of curses falling from her lips encouragement to keep going until her body began to weaken, the orgasm racking over her body. Try as he might, he couldn't stop himself from following her.

They lay there, still just for a moment, only their breaths and pounding hearts making any sound. Reluctantly Geralt pulled away, slipping off to the small washroom attached to her room to get a cloth to clean the mess he had made. Coming back to her he couldn’t help the small smirk on his lips as he looked at how wonderfully pretty she looked, completely undone, his cum dripping from her.

The pair cleaned themselves up and climbed back onto the bed together, Geralt instantly pulling her into him. They didn’t need to speak, the beating of each other's hearts was all they needed to hear. Slowly they drifted off to sleep, Y/N feeling the safest she ever had while in his arms, and Geralt feeling a warmth in his chest he didn’t know he was capable of.

--

“Oh ho! You fucked didn’t you!” Jaskier mocked the following morning, seeing the bruises Geralt had left on Y/N’s neck. Neither responded as Geralt helped Y/N onto Roach’s back, kissing her before going to pay the innkeeper for their nights stay.

Jaskier couldn’t contain his excitement at the development between the pair, spending the next few hours of their travels asking all the questions he could, thinking up quick little ditties to strum as they made their way to the next town.

Usually, Geralt would have snapped at Jaskier, but today he didn’t, for Geralt could not care less at that moment, for as he looked at Y/N riding Roach, she was all he could focus on. Maybe love would be the right thing to name his feelings for her.

[starfruits-world]

CC Making Journal day 7- Collars, tailoring, transparent patterns, LODs.

Aka what started as a night full of hope and excitement over nipple lace button downs turns into bowling alley manager uniforms, tiramisu, irl shirt theft, screaming about paint buckets, and disappointment. Yuuri making his cute face is all I can stand. I didnt even go in game for this shirt I was so disappointed. 

First realization- when the mesh is ugly as fuck there is no saving the piece. Just start over. 

Second realization- half sleeve will never be flattering

No matter how these jazzy looking boy pose:

BUt I started off realizing this piece was not a simple 4 piece suit. No- it had many moving parts. So I made my first button down. The original piece had these hideous buttons:

I was pretty happy here.I had, after all, created my first button down with the two pieces n the back, the trim, collar, the whole 9 yards! A certain tofu loving dragon helped me find a collar pattern guide after they caught me blindly making the worst collar known to man on stream. Thank you for your guidance. (I also wasnt sure if the collar was 1,2,or 3 pieces so I stole a shirt from my dads closet. Its still on my bed. I may keep it. He doesnt need it anyway. Its so soft) We were still so naive though. Dofu tried to warn me about the weird sleeve length and frumpy sleeve holes. But I didnt listen. I was too busy screaming:

Yes I did a little peak at the stammi vicino possibilities. I felt so close.But then...

Then... 

It came to open it in S4s...

(at least the white swatch is clean)

And I was met with a huge disappointment. The shoulders are rounded hideously. and the collar stands up weird. And I cant for the love of me figure out where the sim waist pant line is on the Sims 4 male rig for MD. 

Basically I achieved the silhouette “Boy stuffs himself into a button down that is much to small for him” DX I mean if we wanna play chubby Yuuri it works. 

The waist UV didnt copy over from the sim so he has a different body shape. This keeps happening on tops I have partial transparency on so I think this is related to that issue. As I learn more I realize the issues on my cc are all fixable at their various step. Yuuris waist is supposed to be SNATCHED 

Okay some may think the shirt doesnt look bad on Yuuri, right? But I knew something was wrong....when I put it on Victor and his shoulder SUNK INTO HIS BODY: 

THIS IS WHAT HE IS SUPPOSED TO LOOK LIKE. 

Oh the disappointment I was met with. Victors beautiful broad shoulders. Decimated. 

(Oh speaking of decimate i managed to get this mesh to be under 12k and then I imported it into s4s it JUMPED TO 20K AND I WAS SHOOK LIKE WTF SO OF COURSE MY OTHER 3 LOD DECIMATES WERE ALL HUGE POLY COUNTS. NONE OF THEM NEAR 500 FOR LOD 3). I was annoyed but had bigger monsters with this piece.

Already deterred by some much disappointment, I almost didnt want to continue on. But I roped my friend in again and we went at the Lace texture. BC AS UGLY ASTHE MESH WAS, THE TRANSPARENCY WORKED. SO I failed the war but won the mission. We shared a few pic me up photos of our good boys and powered on. 

And then I found out in PS version 20 there is NO PAINT BUCKET TOOL.

After screaming over no paint buckets (silently bc my discord audio broke) we tried like 10 different methods. I tried to follow along but boyyyy I had no idea what mask laters or rasterize was. I dont even know how to rotate and combine photos in PS. I was in pain. Perhaps I am still traumatized. But not enough to not keep trying.

By then it was 3am and I had inhaled a piece of tirimisu cake to fend off sadness. I ate my late dinner from a paper plate like the sad bachelorette I am and watched again and again as my friend tried to explain how to make the transparency work. 

Eventually they got it to work. I did but I had the pattern too small. So it was useless. 

Anyway, I had to show SOMETHING so I tried Archive actions weird pants that I cant put on literally any outfit bc its clips awfully on the sim and BAM

CANT YOU JUST SEE HIM IN A BOWLING ALLEY?!?!? UGH

Anyway credits to StinkyDofu here on tumblr and the victuuri birb server, Otaku Sim server, random twitter followers who will not see this image or else my follower count will continue to drop, and NO THANK YOU TO HALF SLEEVED SHIRTS. 

Also heads up usually im not a negative person and wont be as harsh on cc to others as I am to myself. But this particular piece was started with such high expectations and the downfall really hurt. But, like I said, this is all for learning so I will keep going. I love this process fully.

It was calming, the boring parts of cc making. Lowering poly with edge loop deleting, extruding edges, uv mapping, texturing. I love the process no one wants to show in their time skips. 

I’ve already linked the tutorials I used in my last journal. So today i’ll advise yall to watch Grafity-cc on youtube for their great speed meshing blender. I would tag but I am but a measly peasant.

Also of course follow StinkyDofu, DroSims, and Poeticfalls for my sim inspo, teachers, and friend groups. 

[okietrish]

Drowning in Anxiety

Pairing: Jake Kiszka X Reader (They are best friends, but they like each other ya know?

Word Count: 1,847

Warnings: Talk about anxiety. Nothing too specific, but lots of run-on sentences that perfectly portray how my mind functions at a high rate pace that I can’t seem to control even thought I try really hard, but I cant...

I’m not sure how I feel about this one, but I wrote it while I was having and incredibly anxious week. Let me know what y’all think!

—

I felt ridiculous. There I was, knocking on his front door, absolutely drenched due to the surprise downfall. I don’t even know how I ended up here. I was walking in a failed attempt to rid myself of the anxiety I had woken up with this morning. I hate days like this, I did nothing to get this anxiety. All I did was wake up and immediately wanted to crawl into a ball and cry. Being an adult doesn’t allow you to do that though.

Getting through the day was... manageable. Sometimes I think of my anxiety more as a bitchy best friend who keeps tapping me on the shoulder to remind me she’s here and waiting very impatiently. Waiting for what? My impending mental breakdown of course; which brings me to where I am now... Holding in my sobs while standing in front of Jake’s door, no doubt looking like a drowned rat who just got run over by a school bus. A mess...

At the sound of the door unlocking I looked up, quickly making eye contact with my best friend with a confused expression on his face, one that fell quickly when he realized who was standing in front of him.

“Y/N what are you doing here? Why are you wet? Did you walk in the rain!?” He was talking fast, obviously worried about my well-being, but I couldn’t say anything. I just stared at him for a moment. My features stone cold before everything cracked and tears flushed my face as I tucked my chin to my chest. I didn’t want to look at him. I don’t know why I came here.

“Oh fuck Y/N.” He spoke quietly now. That’s when I felt his arms wrap around my shoulders, pulling me into him. My hands gripped his shirt tightly where it rested against his collar bones. I needed to ground myself before I spiraled again. Jake instinctively pulled my closer against his body, sprawling his hands out on my back to apply as much steady pressure as possible, a trick I taught him long ago when he saw my panic attacks for the first time.

We stood like that for a few minutes until my breathing was finally steady. Jake pulled away timidly, placing his hands on the sides of my head, pressing my soaking wet hair down on my head. His face was readable, transparent into his emotions. He was naturally an empathetic soul, his eyes were hooded due to his eyebrows being scrunched together in the middle. He offered a lopsided smile, one that I know too well. That smile didn’t hold an ounce of happiness in it. It was forced.

Without saying a word, he grabbed my hand a gently guided me into his home. I stepped aside to allow him to close the door before he turned and looked at me. I couldn’t move. Stuck with my hands limp against my body, face pulled down.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He waited patiently for me to work through my mind.

“There’s not much to say. I just, um, woke up anxious and... and... I just... I fucking hate this Jake. I hate my mind.” Tears were running down my cheeks, though I didn’t feel them this time. No sobs were accompanying the hot streams, no sniffles, no shake in my voice, just tears.

Jake stepped forward, he looked like he was walking on glass, as if the floor would fall out beneath him, but it was me who he was trying not to break. I’m the fragile one.

“Do you want to get changed? You’re soaked.”

“I don’t know.” I squeaked out. For the first time all day my mind was blank. I felt numb.

“Okay. We’re going to get changed. I’ll give you some sweats. We can stay in my room and put on a movie and just wrap up in my comforter. How’s that?” Jake was too kind for this world. His patience in these types of situations always made me adore him even more.

I nodded my head before following him up the steps.

We went slow. I zoned out though… Not really thinking about anything in particular, but somehow still feeling the weight of the world resting on my chest. Maybe it’s just my clothes, they were quite heavy at this point. I left a visible mess behind me, some sort of metaphor there. Water was dripping from my hair, to my shirt, onto my pants, to my shoes, laying itself out over the floor. Fuck. Jake’s floor. I probably ruined it/ I ruin fucking everything. No surprise here. I’d pay for it if it needed to be fixed. I could pick up a few extra shifts, but if I did that I…

“Y/N” I looked up at Jake, he was standing in front of me again. When did we get into his room? How long have I been…

“You’re crying again love.” Was I? I reached my hand up to my cheek, the heat radiating from them instantly warming up my frozen fingertips.

“Oh.. Um… I’m sorry.” I wiped the tears away from my face with my sleeve, but just got my face even more soaked in the process.

“You don’t need to apologize. It’s alright. You’re going to be alright.” Jake walked away for a moment, ruffling through his dresser. “Here take these. You need to change. You’re shivering.” I guess I was, I didn’t notice

“Okay.” My voice sounded like a whisper. My throat was on fire, tight and not wanting to work. Jake offered me a slight smile again.

“I’m going to be right outside the door okay? If you need me just knock.” He placed a warm grip on both of my shoulders before turning to leave. He left me alone.

I felt like a robot, not really thinking anymore, just went through the motions. Soon enough I was stripped completely naked standing in the middle of Jake's room. After air drying for a few moments I quickly redressed. I finally realized just how cold I really was. The fuzzy sweats felt like a warm hug, one that I desperately needed.

“Jake…”

“Yeah?”

I coughed before I relied, “where do you want me to put the wet clothes? And you can come in.” He did just that, but he froze in place as he glanced at me up and down. Probably taking in how I was practically swimming in his sweatshirt and sweatpants. The pants were rolled twice, but they still touched the floor, I looked like a little kid. He looked up to my face again, smiled at how the hood was pulled up and tightened around my face. I properly cocooned myself in the grey fabric.

“I’ll take them and put the in the dryer.” He gathered the clothes from his floor and took off down the stairs. He jogged to the laundry room, I heard him slam the drying and run quickly back up the stairs, I couldn’t help but giggle to myself at his behavior.

Jake was slightly out of breath when he returned. He didn’t miss much though, I didn’t move an inch. He stood there for a moment, regaining his breath and just looking at me. A smile stretched across his features, I tried to return it, but my face just felt like it just twitched before falling back into its statue-like state.

Jake stepped towards me, closing the distance between us swiftly, engulfing me in a hug. I fell into him, I mean how could you not? His hair smelled like vanilla, he smelled faintly of tobacco, most likely smoking right before I got there. All in all he just smelled like Jake. That’s all that I needed, Jake.

Without me noticing, Jake shifted his grip to my hips and began to slowly guide me backwards. I kept my face buried into his neck, trusting him enough to let him take control. The back of my calves bumped into his bed then, he reached one hand over to pull the covers back. Jake then turned around and scoop me up. With a gentle kiss placed to my forehead he laid me down and tucked me in. I let out a whine has he stood up to walk away. I didn’t want him to leave. I didn’t want to be alone.

At the sound he turned back to me, laying his hand on my forehead pushing my hood back slightly.

“I’m just going to lock the front door and turn out the lights mama. I’m coming right back okay?” He spoke so softly to me. His raspy voice coaxing my body to relax into the sheets. I nodded back to him and pulled the covers up to my chin. He would only be gone for a minute.

Jake rushed again, trying his best to be quick and efficient. When he came back he quietly closed his door then walked over to his dresser once more. He replaced his shirt, which was practically drenched from hugging me earlier, with a long sleeve, green shirt that had a purple stripe across the chest. He stripped himself of his pants, but left himself in the tight black briefs that hid underneath, it was hard not to stare at him. He was beautiful. I had to force myself to stop staring more often than not.

Jake shut off his bedroom light before climbing into bed next to me. Instantly he pulled me to him, resting my head on his chest, tangling his legs with mine, my left hand gripping his shirt over his chest as I focused on his heartbeat. He rubbed my back up and down slowly, the pressure welcoming and far from overwhelming.

“Jake?” I tilted my head to face him. He glanced down towards me humming in response to tell me to continue.

“You have cute legs.” The blush that ran up to his cheeks was adorable, but that didn’t sway his calm and relaxed attitude.

“Oh is that so?” He smirked, seemingly amused at my compliment.

“Mmmhmm. Quite the ass as well.” I smiled at him. It was a real smile, one that spread across my entire face. I felt calm. Being wrapped up with him made me feel as if the rushing world around us didn’t exist. If he was holding me, nothing could hurt me.

He chuckled as he rolled his eyes. “Good to know my fine ass helped you feel better.” He kissed my forehead, pressing and holding his lips there for a few moments before retreating to giggle some more at himself.

“Ya know, next time you feel really anxious I’ll just send you a booty pic. It’ll save you a walk in the rain.” I nuzzled my head into his chest, laughing at the sheer idea of Jacob Kiszka sending me a booty pic.

“I’m going to hold you to that Kiszka.” I tapped his chest twice, still giggling at the kind boy. Another laugh roared through his body. His laugh was intoxicating.

“Anything for you Y/L/N”

[exchangingawkwardglances]

I get a lot of messages about my recovery from bulimia..

I have good days, I have good weeks. I have days when I feel amazing about my body a d proud of the curves I have and dont give a damn about the numbers or the food. There are times when I do feel extremely in tune with my body and its needs and those are the best times.

I am not in that good place right now.

I eat right and feel good and inevitably because I am taking care of myself and mostly because I am not binging, I lose weight. I get triggered by the high and feelings of self confidence, I decide to take it a little top far. I skip a few meals and BOOM after a week or two or even three of doing so good and feeling so good I binge. A lot. Maybe I purge, maybe I dont. If I do, I always end up binging again, then purging again. And again. Rinse and repeat.

If I don't purge, it doesnt matter. My disorder still screams at me that I've ruined everything, now I'm fat. Its extra time at the gym, more meals skipped, an extra scar on my body to remind myself not to do it again. I push myself till I burn out and give up and fully relapse.

Right now I am relapsed. And while I can say proudly that I am not as sick as I once was,

I am still not recovered

I binged and purged twice today before work, I'm about to lie to my boyfriend about it. I'm walking 6 miles to work instead of biking because I know it burns more calories then after a 10 hour shift on my feet I'm going to the gym to run till I collapse because I cant stand myself right now.

I still care so much about inches and sizes and numbers and counting, even though I know it's my downfall I recovery. I wish I could die so I didnt have to do this anymore, but I'm still afraid of dying fat.

So thanks for your messages congratulating me on my recovery

But I'm not doing ok right now.

[drfeelgood-21]

The past 5 Years...

I feel like some of you should know where i have been these last 5 horrid years, and it took me a long time to actually come to terms with writing this post. But here we go      Back in 2013 i joined Tumblr,made friends, made posts, and learned about some amazing music. MY journey for Metal had just begun. Fast forward 2 years, Im now running a successful metal/rock blog with a side of whatever the fuck i like. I had many friends that i would chat with on the daily through Snap,Facebook, and kik. I was there for many of you as you were there for me. I graduated High school and had a job. I was going into College. My hometown Uni that I always dreamed of going to. I was excited and this sets forth the downfall of my life... Part 2: 2016 hits, Im still getting over the emotions of The Force Awakens (Star Wars FTW) Type O Negative grew on me hard, and i started a smoking addiction to cigars. My energy drink addiction mixed in with that. Full time college and a full time job were hell but i managed. My grades were great, the financial stress wasnt. I was Paying for Uni out of pocket and it lead to some hard times. May came along and well I found myself a girlfriend who ended up cheating on me. I partied hard with friends, got drunk, did some insane shit and even hosted a party with my bestfriend Scott that got over 200 people to show up.  The end of Summer approached and I found this bright eyed beautil woman named Natasha. I fell hard. The only issue was, i was her Manager and i told myself to not do it. Luckily for me i was already applying for new jobs and was picked up by a huge branded Franchise company so we started dating.....Little did i know at the time i was helping her cheat. Little did i know this was her game. We spent the next two years “In Love” by this it was a blind game of abuse and manipulation. She scarred me so bad that i thought i was a narcissistic asshole. She found out about my use of tumblr and made me delete it and take off every single friend of mine from here. One night she slapped my face to awaken me and ask who Emily was ( a friend from tumblr long ago) She was jealous of a message i had sent Emily back in 2015 ( this ould be a good time to mention its January 2017)   I didnt see abuse at all. I could only see me trying better every day for her, but she was never happy. She constantly needed sex, constantly needed love, amd had trouble not being with me. At the time i of course enjoyed it because i thought it was love. I ended up getting an apartment with her late 2017.. We lived together till June 2018....I broke up with her She cost me the following -Best friendship with Scott -Friendship with anyone i talked to on social media ( Alot of you) -My college career -She spiked my depression - Made me feel like i should kill myself -Connection with family members - Trust -Connection with others I know that this post will probably summon that anon that hit right after the break up but just Fuck off.    I was angry ,depressed, and really fucking suicidal, I got injured at work and couldnt move for 2 weeks. (Dislocated my knee) But when i got back to work, i got a message from an old friend who just used me for sex,  so that happened.. 2018 sucked except for starting to branch out into the local clubs. 2019 Though....That was the year of rebuild. Worked my ass off at work and on myself. Figured out a lot of stuff, made New Amazing friends. Started back up old friendships and got my own Duplex so life in 2019 wasnt bad but i will admit i was drinking through a lot of it. 2020 had a slow start. But in the end of January this one girl approached my friend group and asked if she could dance with us. Of course i said, and we actually spent the rest of the night all together and she attached herself to my best friend Amber.  We spent at least an hour talking about Emo bands and style, until she got picked up by a friend.     I had her snap though and decided to message her the next day and tell her it was great to meet you we should hang out again soon. I was Nervous, i hadnt done something like this for four years... When she said yes to hanging out again my heart skipped, It wasnt officially a date but it was interest. We hung out a couple more times and i know i told her i liked her the second time, but i started liking her when she said “ you’re making me break my stoic reputation”     February 1st the morning after we went out again, i asked her to be mine...It was fast but i really hadnt felt this way since 4 years ago....One things for sure though..every time im with her the feeling grows stronger even though i did shut myself down. Its jsut scary how comfortable i am around her because i feel so vulnerable and i dont know if its just me getting my trust back, but I do know that im in love with her. Shes beautiful in so many ways and helps me rediscover who i am..what I stand for. I wanted to tell her that i love her after a nice actual dinner date...I had it planned.. But this Covid bullshit made me rush it. I had to tell her before she visited her parents back home.... little did we know at the time that she would be back home sooner than expected. I was at work when her dad surprisingly picked her up and made her move back home to Quarantine from this fucking virus. I sure as hell felt numb reading the letter she left me.  These are weird and hard times, and its sucked this past week. I cant get my mind to shut off, im stressed, i go to work,  i take care of family. Im Feeling drained and exhausted, but one thought of her and it all goes away.. I miss her. I just want to see her and hold her. Today was probably the worst day ive had in a long time....Im not doing well but im back Tumblr , to all whom even care anymore. Thanks for sticking around

[scots-dragon]

The Big Fucking D&D 4E Rant

Or, ‘That Time Wizards of the Coast Fucked Up D&D’s Lore’ 

At the risk of raising the spectre of edition war again, I feel like it’s worth going back and exploring that time that Wizards of the Coast fucked over basically all of their lore to chase a trend that wasn’t there. Admittedly this comes with the (begrudged) acknowledgement that quite a bit of of this is likely to be out of date now that fifth edition has been out for a good several years now, but that edition has its own problems and while I’m not really going to touch upon it now, my problems with it are many and numerous.

It should be noted from the outset that this is going to talk about fourth edition in a negative and critical context, but I’m not going to be talking about the rules of the actual game as a game. This is entirely centred on story, worldbuilding and lore, and how those were handled in fourth edition as compared to what came before. That being said, if you like fourth edition, and especially if you like its lore, I would not suggest reading further.

I’m going to go far beyond being critical in this; I’m going to get outright mean.

A shout out must go to Susanna McKenzie (@cydonian-mystery) for input and feedback on this.

I suppose the most important place to start is, in many ways, the beginning, by which I mean my own introduction to Dungeons & Dragons. Mostly because it’s directly linked to the main reasons why I consider the lore to have been ruined, but before I even start off with that, I’m going to have to tell you where the lore was before I can really adequately explain its downfall.

In Realms Forgotten...

Like many people of my generation, I got into Dungeons & Dragons first through the computer based role-playing games. Specifically I started off with various titles by Black Isle and BioWare in the late-90s and early-00s, with stand-outs including Baldur’s Gate, Icewind Dale, Neverwinter Nights, and their sequels. What all of these had in common beyond being Dungeons & Dragons adaptations is the fact that they took place in the Forgotten Realms, one of the more famous settings thereof, and the lore of that world intrigued me far more than the rules alone.

This might not sound like much, of course, to a newer fan for whom the Forgotten Realms, and its central setting of Faerûn, likely feels just like that generic world that D&D just happens to take place in nowadays. But back in the day, it was far more than that.

At the time I was getting into it, local libraries and bookstores carried bestselling novels set in the worlds in question, so I could pick up a novel based around various characters who appeared in the games, like the drow ranger Drizzt Do’Urden or the powerful wizard Elminster. There was also this huge encyclopedic book of geography and deities and the history of the world, with a big fold-out map which is still stuck up on my bedroom wall even after moving house three times. It was perfect fodder for my young nerdy fangirl self to develop full-on special interests in this stuff.

And the level of detail and lore and nuance in the world and its peoples was immense, with even the tiny and obscure bits of the setting earning massive amounts of unique lore. The result was a world that felt like it was alive, vibrant, and lived-in. Like real people could live there, with colourful heroes and villains to encounter.

This, I think, was the unwitting downfall of the Forgotten Realms, but I’m getting ahead of myself because this is really only step one, and Realms are really only one part of it. There are in total three of them, and I’ll be going through the baselines of each of them before we move on.

Out to Planescape

If you’ve read through the core books for fifth edition, there’s a chance you already have some degree of knowledge of Planescape and what it is. Or more precisely you know about the core structure of the Dungeons & Dragons multiverse; the Great Wheel. A series of elemental inner planes and transitive planes, with a ring of sixteen aligned outer planes representing various combinations derived from the axes of law versus chaos, and good versus evil, centred around a neutrally-aligned central plane.

At the centre of this central plane is an infinitely tall spire, atop which lies the famous torus-shaped city of Sigil, the city at the centre of the multiverse. There are a few more bits to it than that, and there are actually differences between how it once was and how it now is. For instance back in the day, there was no such thing as the Feywild or Shadowfell, and neither one was present in the original structure as laid out in 1987’s Manual of the Planes for AD&D.

Once again, to say that this is barely scratching the surface of the planar cosmology and its general meaning to Dungeons & Dragons lore would be a gross understatement. It wasn’t long after the publication of the above book that there was a new campaign setting created called Planescape, which would centre entirely upon this cosmology and build it into the lore. This is where the city of Sigil was introduced, a place of weird concordance where demons, angels, and creatures far, far stranger than either rubbed shoulders in the street, and only the watchful eye of the mysterious and powerful Lady of Pain kept things from erupting into all-out war.

It was a world of disputes, where a myriad of factions representing various philosophical concepts went toe-to-toe with one another. All wrapped up in a tone not unlike a strange mix of China Miéville and Charles Dickens, with the local dialect and thieves cant giving a unique flavour that no major campaign world outside of Planescape can really manage.

Perhaps the most famous and lasting contribution that this setting has was the tieflings, aasimar, and genasi, referred to collectively as the planetouched. These were born from a mix of planar interaction with human bloodlines, in particular through the very old fashioned way that any hybrid is created, which is perhaps why tieflings were the more common. They carried the blood of fiends, and most commonly demons by way of ancestors who reproduced with succubi and incubi, though no two tieflings looked especially alike, with variable and strange features.

I’ll be getting back to these later, but suffice it to say that Planescape was an interesting outlier setting, far stranger and more creative than almost anything else in anyone’s catalogue. And it forms the second part of our list of ruined lore.

And back down to Greyhawk

There’s a very good chance that your knowledge of Greyhawk is pretty limited, because while one could make good arguments for the above only just being ruined when fourth edition came around, there’s a lot to be said about how Greyhawk’s been the forgotten cousin for a while now, though to the credit of the current staff at Wizards of the Coast, they did just release a full-on Greyhawk adventure with Ghosts of Saltmarsh.

Introduced in the late seventies and early eighties, the World of Greyhawk, taking place on the fictional planet of Oerth and in particular on the subcontinent of the Flanaess, was the personally created campaign setting of Gary Gygax himself. While not as detailed as the Forgotten Realms, nor as interestingly out-there as Planescape, it is nonetheless a pretty cool world overall with a fun pulpy atmosphere that gives it its own sense of weight and nuance.

However, after Gary Gygax left TSR back in the 1980s, some later creators took it upon themselves to more or less mock his legacy overall. Nonetheless it remains a popular location for fans and creators, and towards the late third edition there was a lot of good work done in reviving it, such as with a series of adventure paths published in Dungeon Magazine in the form of Shackled City, Age of Worms, and Savage Tide, and following that a big adventure module in the form of Expedition to the Ruins of Greyhawk.

Since it’s the most basic element, let’s start with how they treated Greyhawk...

Strip-Mining the Free City

To say that Wizards of the Coast ruined Greyhawk would actually be inaccurate because, to a degree, they didn’t actually use Greyhawk. At least, not fully.

What they did instead was create a ‘new’ campaign setting, sometimes called the Nentir Vale, that used a few scavenged and cherry-picked Greyhawk deities and also a whole selection of adventures and locations previously specific to Greyhawk. Notable examples of such on the larger worldmap seen in the boardgame Conquest of Nerath included the Tomb of Horrors, the Vault of the Drow, and the Temple of Elemental Evil.

The resulting setting wasn’t Greyhawk, but had enough pieces that it felt like an insult to it. Often having those elements be modified in such a way that they felt like mockeries rather than the original concepts. A big part of why that felt like mockery is of course that Nentir Vale, or the Points of Light setting as it was sometimes referred to as, didn’t really exist as its own fully-fledged world. There wasn’t really a campaign setting book, or much detail on anything outside of a few small locations.

This is a relatively small part of what Dungeons & Dragons 4th edition did wrong, but it’s a small taste of what’s to come. However as seen with the Greyhawk conversion guidelines for many adventures, and even the release of the recent Ghosts of Saltmarsh, Greyhawk itself seems to have survived while the Nentir Vale remains almost entirely forgotten except for mentions of the Dawn War pantheon on one page of the Dungeon Master’s Guide.

It seems like Wizards of the Coast realised it was a bad idea.

‘The Great Wheel is Dead!’

As we go back out to Planescape, we notice that — much like Greyhawk — it also isn’t there, as the entire cosmology and its thematic importance has been replaced with something so radically different that it’s practically a complete replacement. Just about the only part of Planescape that was kept was Sigil itself, but as shown repeatedly in the fourth edition version of Manual of the Planes, they obviously didn’t understand either Sigil or the Great Wheel in any real way.

I’m not going to talk about the World Axis much in direct terms, but instead more the mindset that was taken with regards to Planescape’s Great Wheel. Now this requires something of a diversion into an old pre-fourth edition preview document, and how it handled the Great Wheel and old materials.

The Great Wheel is dead.

One of my mantras throughout the design of 4th Edition has been, “Down with needless symmetry!” The cosmology that has defined the planes of the D&D multiverse for thirty years is a good example of symmetry that ultimately creates more problems than it solves. Not only is there a plane for every alignment, there’s a plane between each alignment — seventeen Outer Planes that are supposed to reflect the characteristics of fine shades of alignment. There’s not only a plane for each of the four classic elements, there’s a Positive Energy Plane, a Negative Energy Plane, and a plane where each other plane meets — an unfortunate circumstance that has resulted in creatures such as ooze mephits.

The planes were there, so we had to invent creatures to fill them. Worse than the needless symmetry of it all, though, is the fact that many of those planes are virtually impossible to adventure in. Traversing a plane that’s supposed to be an infinite three-dimensional space completely filled with elemental fire takes a lot of magical protection and fundamentally just doesn’t sound fun. How do you reconcile that with the idea of the City of Brass, legendary home of the efreet? Why is there air in that city?

So our goals in defining a new cosmology were pretty straightforward.

• Don’t bow to needless symmetry!

• Make the planes fun for adventure!

The ‘impossible to adventure in’ mindset towards the Great Wheel is entirely bullshit, which I think is best highlighted in the passage on the City of Brass. How can a plane of pure unchanging fire without variation also have a city-state? Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t without variation and they’re making shit up to justify their own nonsense. 

The arrogance here is nothing short of infuriating. It typifies everything about the approach that Wizards of the Coast was taking towards Dungeons & Dragons at the time, and can only really be described as destructive.

There was nothing but an arrogance and often gleeful disdain for previous editions. Along with declarations of how it was so much better now, with the old version being bad for some reason despite that version having generated a huge fanbase, and a critically beloved computer role-playing game in the form of Planescape: Torment. And as with Greyhawk, they’ve done what they can to reverse that. The only elements of the new cosmology that remain are the Elemental Chaos as an in-between for the Elemental Planes, the Feywild, and the Shadowfell.

Wizards of the Coast once again seemed to realise where they were going wrong, and this is basically a recurring element of fifth edition. 

Unfortunately, the World Axis and Nentir Vale aren’t really where the majority of my frustrations lie.

The Shattered Realms

To summarise the degree to which they basically destroyed the Forgotten Realms is going to take a while, simply because they were thorough. And it’s this that ultimately puts me into a position where I’m always going to be negatively predisposed towards Wizards of the Coast and their handling of Dungeons & Dragons.

As a bitof a preamble, fourth edition brought with it several substantial changes to the way a lot of the ruleset worked. And not just on a mechanical level, but on a lore level as it related to certain in-universe elements.. Basic concepts about magic and how it worked were altered at the baseline level, and in order to explain these differences it was decided by the higher-ups at Wizards of the Coast to implement a big huge event to explain the edition differences. This was something they called the Spellplague.

This is not the first time they’ve done that; they previously had the Time of Troubles, which worked to explain the relatively minor differences in magic between the first and second edition versions of Advanced Dungeons & Dragons, killed off or replaced a few gods, and ultimately shook things up a little bit. This was not really met with widespread acclaim at the time, and many complained about it but ultimately it’s a series of events which were later picked up by BioWare for Baldur’s Gate so it’s hard to really complain too harshly.

And indeed, they did it again with the change-over from fourth edition to fifth edition, with the Second Sundering bringing radical changes that all coincidentally left things looking like the pre-fourth edition version of the Forgotten Realms. Like with Planescape and Greyhawk, Wizards of the Coast knew they’d fucked up. But unlike with those, there were more than a few scars that haven’t really been all that fixable.

And to show you what I mean, I suppose we can start with the map, as that’s one of the clearest indications, when put in comparison, as to just how much was changed.

If you scroll back up and compare with the original map, you can kind of see just how much they absolutely fucked the Forgotten Realms.

The basic idea behind the Spellplague was that the goddess Mystra was murdered, and in her death throes the entirety of magic went haywire. Blue fire erupted across the world, and left entire nations and segments of the landscape scarred and destroyed. Often, conveniently, hitting worst those places that would traditionally, in-setting, be inhabited for the most part by various peoples of colour. Going into exhaustive detail would be extremely difficult, but keep in mind that the most heavily-devastated looking locations tend to be those that are inhabited by non-white people.

At least one of the nations destroyed, Halruaa, was actually the homeland of a long-running half-elf wizard character of mine at the time. 

Most major magic-user characters suffered extreme maladies to their spellcasting, either killing them off or rendering them powerless.

In a series of unrelated but contemporary events, the entire elven and dwarven pantheons were radically altered. Most elven deities who weren’t Corellon Larethian were revealed to be aspects of non-elven deities, and around half of the elves themselves wound up being renamed to ‘eladrin’ to match the bullshit new elf subrace from the fourth edition books.

The drow pantheon was similarly culled until only Lolth remained, and as part of that they slew the goddess of good drow, Eilistraee. What happened to her followers is probably a good example of how there was a good deal of racism involved. Basically, the drow who followed her were ‘cleansed of the taint’ that had turned them into drow to begin with.

Including lightening their skin.

This is an event that Wizards of the Coast hasn’t really broadcast much after their reintroduction of Eilistraee, and it’s really not hard to see why they’ve minimised it.

The human gods didn’t fare much better. The entire Mulhorandi Pantheon was removed, because apparently having real-world Egyptian mythological gods around was a little too much for them. They also did the same with Tyr, who was originally from Norse mythology, though left Silvanus, Oghma, and Mielikki. Possibly because barely anyone pays attention to Celtic pantheon deities, and the latter Finnish deity was the patron goddess of a specifically popular character from the novels.

And between destroying half of the map, eliminating half of the pantheon full of various fan favourite gods, and killing off a lot of major magic-user characters, you’d think that would be considered a bad enough result.

But then there’s the timeskip.

Wizards of the Coast advanced the timeline by approximately one hundred and five years, therefore killing off literally every major human character who didn’t have some kind of magical way of extending their lifespan. And in addition to the effects of the Spellplague, brought in a variety of huge geopolitical changes that replaced major governments and kingdoms with new and nearly-unrecognisable versions that might have shared a name.

I’m not going to go into much more detail on various other changes, but keep in mind that this is only barely scratching the surface. There wasn’t a single region of the Forgotten Realms left unaltered or unmarred by this event, and it ultimately can’t be seen as anything other than an act of vandalism. It’s not even getting into the fact that, for instance, entire sections of the landscape of Toril were replaced by segments of another world entirely so they could justify the introduction of dragonborn as a core race.

Which is incidentally why I dislike the dragonborn.

The events of the fifth edition changeover worked to mitigate a lot of this, but the sheer extent of damage done is so much that the modern Forgotten Realms is still only a pale echo of its former self. All because they wanted to chase the audience of fucking World of Warcraft of all things.

Seriously, fuck Wizards of the Coast.