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cno-inbminor · 4 years ago

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ipsum exitio (pt. 1)

a/n: for reasons explained here, this fic will be released in 2 parts! i want to thank everyone again who’s expressed an interest in this, and i hope that it lives up to some expectation. this fic is really big on introspection and includes a lot of arguably necessary exposition.

but more importantly, i want to thank @/a-kaashi (raenah) for being a huge support and my beta for this piece. she’s put in so much effort and thoughts into helping me make this into what it is now, and i can’t thank her enough.

plot: self-destruction is in the calm before the storm, in the eye of a hurricane. but when the forces are right, the winds are rapid enough, the catalysts send you hurling, you find yourself leaving a monstrous and disastrous path in your wake.

characters: ushijima wakatoshi, semi eita, iwaizumi hajime (in pt. 2), and male oc, w/fem!reader possessing vagina/uterus/uterine-system (other oc’s also included)

wc: 16.5k

genre/warnings: (+18) slice of life, angst, descriptions and moments of high anxiety, explicit smut (in pt. 2) (w/slight degradation, size kink, spanking, etc.) & virginity loss, alcohol consumption, talks about virginity and sex toys, slow burn, pining, implied bisexual reader

pt. 2

A breeze flows in through the open window of your apartment, softly caressing your face as you lean against the sill on your elbows. You drink in the view of Tokyo at night like a fine wine sliding down your throat, attuning to all your senses. With tear ducts dry and dust caked along the rims of your eyes, they shut in defeat, the semblance of a white flag splayed on the back of your eyelids. Cars honk in the distance and your legs struggle to support your weight. The scent of sulfur from the earlier downpour teases at your nostrils, causing your nose to scrunch a bit as you openly take in the scenery before you again.

A nearby billboard flashes bright, mechanically cycling through advertisements and never resting. The LED lights paint a picture that you are all too acquainted with, even more so with the man in the frame. Your body is plunged into a lake of bitter nostalgia as your heart wrenches painfully. Instead of fighting against the resistance of the water and gravity, you succumb to the anchor dragging you down, knowing that eventually, the waves will recede, and you will return to shore again.

Inhale. Count. Exhale.

Breathe.

11 years ago

Shiratorizawa is and always has been a battle ground. It was a miracle that you even made it there, quite honestly. The pressure and the overwhelming suffocation of competition filled your lungs and lodged in your airway the day you moved into the dorms and attended orientation. Everyone seemed so tense, so on edge, clutching their folders and packets like lifelines while absorbing all information possible. A stray few seemed more at ease and relaxed, but to you at the time, that immediately sounded the alarms – to seemingly thrive in this environment from the very beginning could only be the marks of a dangerous but powerful person.

What became a source of comfort was the realization that everyone else felt equally as anxious as you, terrified of the hidden lions camouflaged in the masses. And each year, students crippled under the stress and high expectations – if you had to make an estimate, at least 83% of the student body would experience a breakdown during the time of final exams. But in the midst of all this academic madness, this debilitating drive to do more and reach beyond the sky, everyone found refuge in the school’s sports teams. Be it basketball, swimming, diving, volleyball, tennis – chances were someone in the top 5 of their respective sport within the prefecture would be at Shiratorizawa, and nothing proved more freeing than screaming your lungs out for the prides of your school.

Interestingly enough, you had found that liberation in the volleyball team, being able to turn off your brain with a switch and focus on something that had nothing to do with the filled pages of incomplete to-do lists in your agenda. Air batons in hand, water bottle by your side for the inevitable dry throat, you hollered and chanted with everyone else in the stands and watched the opponents surrender at the feet of none other than Ushijima Wakatoshi.

A force to be reckoned with, a skill that was so beautifully and adeptly honed, you understood very early on the massive admiration for the boy. Even only at 16, Wakatoshi had the physique of a grown man, the severity of his complexion intimidating everyone within 100 meters of him. The terrifying force of his spike and devilish spin resulting from being dominant in his left hand left the crowds in awe. It was evident that the coach used this to the team’s advantage, and suddenly, you felt the burning desire to be on the floor. You wanted to sit on the bench, to see his movement from the side and within an envious proximity – no worry for stray balls, only the chance to witness something so athletically beautiful and magnificent.

And even though you were crushed under a mountain of assignments and projects, as well as a whole slew of mini-projects you had given yourself to make your life harder, you were determined to add this on your list. The lack of self-control in pursuing your desires was going to kill you in the future, but this was not the day. So you dove in towards the trenches, filled out an application, gave all the reasons why having you as a manager would be more help than harm, and suddenly, you were standing on the side of the court next to coolers of water bottles.

You didn’t bother hiding your adoration for Wakatoshi, always having had a bit of a soft heart for the strong, silent type. He was a boy of few words, and each one seemed carefully chosen yet also charmingly candid. Most, except for his teammates, were relatively terrified to talk to him, but he was always polite and thanked you for your hard work. Perhaps it was your constant vulnerable state induced by stress that made you more likely to develop your first real crush on someone, to search for a refuge of sorts. Wakatoshi always seemed to have his life together, and it became painfully obvious to the others that you had developed affections for the school ace. Satori teased you endlessly, going as far as scheduling a poor attempt at an intervention to get a confession out of you. Whether it had been out of pity or a relentless amount of pressure from peers (read: Satori, again), Wakatoshi, by the grace of something powerful, accepted your feelings. Nevertheless, he was very clear in pointing out that this wouldn’t be like any other relationship.

“When not in class, I am most likely at volleyball practice. I do not subject myself to public displays of affection.”

“I understand.”

“I will also likely not have time for dates. I am sure you are aware of this with our heavy course load.”

“Of course.”

“But I will try my best to reciprocate some of your feelings. I have no experience in this, as you might know, but all I ask is for your support.”

“That’s without question.”

“Very well then. Are you sure you want to continue with this?” He inquired, his eyes boring straight into yours to search for the answer.

Little did you know that your affirmation had signed a warrant for your soul, a revelation that would only unearth just thirteen months later.

Being in a relationship with Wakatoshi was easy. There was no need for all the overthinking of whether your actions would annoy him or not; or drive him away from you. If he had qualms about how you were acting, he wouldn’t bother with beating around the bush and instead tell you very directly, though gently as well. In the beginning, it was much easier to be quiet around him than to speak; the theme of your relationship would simply be ‘comfortable silence’.

He eventually became more relaxed around you with time, sometimes even voicing his worries and slight frustrations after practice while helping you clean up. Wakatoshi greatly appreciated how you were always ready to listen to him, despite the tremble in your muscles and dark eye bags from fatigue. You even joined him on his morning runs sometimes despite the fact you could only survive a small leg of it, turning back towards the campus when not even a fifth of his distance in. With advice from Satori, he had asked for more details about your day and your life in general, his brain filling in the gaps of the mental picture he had of you.

What once was a mere outline, roughly penciled-in of nothing more than your physique, the more he learned, the more colors he painted in. To him, you were shades of navy and gray with dashes of gold, emerald, midnight black, magenta, and rouge. The final picture was nothing close to artistic, but it lent to his understanding of your overall personality: unwillingly scattered, pained, anxious, yet determined and compassionate to a fault.

Procrastination was your best friend, you had told him one evening on a newly established weekly stroll, especially when it came to large assignments. You weren’t an organized planner – instead, you would let ideas stew and boil in your head, only mental images of the process and final result there until you couldn’t wait any longer to pen it down. Then you would pull nights of just three to five hours of sleep, running on caffeine and pure drive. What was even more frustrating was that you would find trouble for yourself, avoiding assignments by coming up with new unrelated projects that most definitely did not need to be on your priority list.

For example, if you had a presentation due in a week to discuss the 5 main themes of Great Expectations in front of your class, you’d first let all scenarios of it play out in your head. Then when it became too much, you’d go off and do something for the volleyball club that wasn’t on top of the agenda or complete a question set for the Math Olympiads club you were in as well. Considering those were more positive, productive digressions, other times you would pick up another book to read and feel the need to finish, download a new game on your phone, or scour the internet for cooking videos on the best ways to make hayashi rice.

What amazed (and somewhat alarmed) Wakatoshi was that you would pull it all together in the end. Not only were you balancing academics and extracurriculars, you were bearing the weight of your friends’ worries and stress on your shoulders with the biggest smile you could muster, casting aside most of your well-being to make room for theirs, as well as this relationship with him. Projects were still completed, assignments still mostly unflawed turned in, management of their team still in top shape, and being almost a perfect partner suited for his taste. All were held in stride, even if it was obvious to him that after major assignments were completed, you were either smiling less, saying fewer words, or stuck in your head more often. And he knew, as you had expressed one time out of exhaustion and beaten defenses, you were worried that you still weren’t good enough.

So the cycle continued. In waves and a whirlpool, Wakatoshi watched you unravel and tighten, unravel and tighten, unravel and tighten, desperate to prove that you had a place in this academy just as much as anyone else. Time and time again, you had voiced your worries and doubt, and every time, he assured you that yes, you were worthy of your place here. You knew the boy never lied to comfort others, and he knew that you knew this. He began to grow displeased with your mental reservations, finally determining one March evening of your second year that he could no longer continue this relationship with you.

Satori, of course, had protested vehemently. (“You can’t just break up with her like that, it’s cruel!”). Wakatoshi failed to understand the social implications, ignoring the advice from his friend as he prepared for the routine, weekly stroll with you. When he slipped his sneakers on, his muscles remembered to grab his spare jacket as you were prone to feel chilly on these nights. It wasn’t until the end of the stroll when your nose was slightly tinged red at the tip and your figure engulfed in his jacket, did he hesitate at the intersection between the boys’ and girls’ dorms, and Wakatoshi being the blunt human he is, voiced his thoughts.

“I think it would be good to end this relationship,” he stated with no warning, yet felt a twinge of guilt when your face fell and froze into a subtle state of shock. He let you process his words, patiently waiting for your response.

Inhale. Exhale. Deep breaths. But not too deep. Don’t freak him out. How do you stop freaking yourself out? Oxygen. Lungs.

Inhale. Exhale.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, training your eyes to look straight into his right shoulder, tracing the logo of the ICS foot. Hell knows you’re not tall enough to see past it. “Have I been asking for too much of your time?”

“No.”

“…Have I been too clingy?”

“No.”

“Then…what’s the reason?” You shakily asked, tears of confusion beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes.

“…you’ve spread yourself too thin.”

This time, it was only appropriate to look at him straight on. As always, there was no hesitation evident in them, his direct truth bleeding through his retinas. It must have been words that he had decided on long ago to describe your mental state.

“Please elaborate,” you softly demanded, subconsciously hugging your arms at the biceps.

“You’re doing too much. You think you can do it all, but you’re simply unable to. It’s okay, but I think this relationship is one more thing on your plate that you don’t need.”

But you heard it. You branded the image of his words in your brain and read between the lines, running on overdrive as the darkness rapidly ate at you. It was easy for the demons to sneak in with dubious tones, repeating the phrase that you had been fighting so hard to keep buried inside—

You’re not good enough.

Perhaps you had become a burden to Wakatoshi. You had turned into the thorn in his side, something he no longer wanted to tolerate and keep in his life. Perhaps it was expected, you bitterly thought while shrugging off his jacket. The bite of the cold night teethed and gnawed at your skin, but the pain was almost welcomed now. He took the fabric without a word, only feeling slightly guilty at the sight of stray tears gradually streaking down your cheeks.

“Okay,” you sniffled, arms wrapped around yourself again for some vague sense of protection. “That’s fine, I get it. You have Nationals and the Youth team as well – it’s mainly best for you to end this.”

“(Y/n) –”

“It’s really okay, Wakatoshi. I appreciate you being straightforward with me. I’ll see you at practice,” you quickly interjected and turned to trek back towards the dorm, sending a quick but lifeless wave behind you. The shards of whatever was left of your soul trailed behind you like scattered stars on the concrete. Even when your roommate and friend brought your disheveled figure into her arms, they did little to ward off the parasitic spectres in your mind.

You spent most of that night tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep despite the exhaustion weighing down on your eyelids. Your thoughts refused to cease for just one second in its brutal beatdown on your heart, having played back every moment you possibly messed up on from the day Wakatoshi accepted your feelings to the time of separation. The questions began to plague the blood in your veins, your heart thrashing erratically and causing a cold sweat to break over your skin. Gentle, warning waves of nausea churned through your stomach as the anxiety effectuated into its more menacing, ghastly manifestation. You felt your breaths quicken out of panic and screwed your eyes shut – what did you do cope before? What could ground you behind the rails before you fell over the edge and into the folds of a dark ocean?

Deep breaths. Count. Breathe. Exhale. Start from 100.

Inhale.

Count.

Exhale.

Repeat.

You fell asleep before you hit 20.

You stayed on as the manager despite every ounce of your heart demanding you to quit and run, pettily attempting to prove Ushijima wrong. Satori directed empathetic glances your way multiple times for a few days, but you never wavered. There was no time to feel sorry for yourself or accept pity from others, especially as Nationals was right around the corner. Getting away from campus excited you and as much as the trip was about volleyball, the boys looked forward to spending a few days in the capital.

But the championship fell short, and soon, the third year began.

Your roommate was understandably concerned. On top of more rigorous classes and upcoming college entrance exams, you balanced your manager position, math club, an online job tutoring English, and yearbook duties. It was an absolute miracle that you found enough hours in the day to be on top of everything, and you were proud. This not only meant that you didn’t just peak in middle school, but it also meant that you could do all these things and still turn out great. At the end of the day, a sense of pride overwhelmed you more than anything – this had to be your way of defeating your anxieties: occupy yourself until there was no time to think about them.

The months rolled by. Your cycle continued. Shiratorizawa fell to their knees in front of Karasuno. You got into The University of Tokyo. Graduation proceeded without a hitch.

To your naïve, broken soul, the stars seemed to have aligned and the puzzle pieces were fitting. But to those around you, they could only watch as you fell deeper into the massive hole you dug on your own, dirt smudged on your cheeks and hands blistered from the wooden handle of the shovel. You were going to snap again one day, and it would be more painful than the first.

University soon gave you an adequate understanding of what exactly your personality had unfortunately become: self-destructive. At the time, you had only thought it appropriate to disregard your own health for those you loved (and there were quite a few of them) while balancing academics. That fault was one you had long come to terms with: that you gave away too much of yourself. Someone needed to rant at 1AM? Your phone ringer was always on at full volume (unless you were, of course, in class). Someone needed a ride to the airport? You were there, jokingly asking them to bring you back a snack from their travels as thanks. Someone needed to crash at your place for a day or two to get away from a shitty ex? Extra blankets and sheets, as well as an air mattress from home, were all prepared in the cupboard at your apartment.

As demanding as Shiratorizawa was, Todai stressed you out on another level, especially with your business major and computer science minor. On several occasions, Ushijima’s words had rung loud and clear, echoing in the chambers of your mind. “You’ve spread yourself too thin,” his baritone voice plagued you at the most inopportune times of the day (read: when you were attempting to balance, again, too many things).

And as much as you enjoyed the companionships of your friends, both old and new, you began to achingly yearn for a more intimate relationship that would allow you to collapse into comforting arms, especially on days that endlessly dragged you on your feet. The fact that it was only freshman year made your head spin, but nothing could truly deter you from your deepest desires.

You should have realized that this would only result in isolation with nothing but wooden walls, a balcony, and a shattered heart to keep you company.

7 years ago

“I agree,” Sayuri, a senior and close friend from the art department, affirmed when you expressed this romantic aspiration to her over ramen at a nearby izakaya one September night of your sophomore year. “Everyone’s so obsessed with their careers these days, you included,” she jabbed and pointed stained bamboo chopsticks at you, causing your shoulders to flinch and hunch back in some shame. “Buy some alcohol, give yourself some free nights. The only times I see you doing something not related to school is when I drag you out on weekend shoots with me.”

Sayuri was an expressive girl who took the world in stride and captured the streets of Tokyo with her camera like no other. The two of you had met in an interest organization meeting, instantly bonding over similar pastimes and your two personalities just clicked. She somehow embodied everything you weren’t, and you deeply loved her. More often than not, Sayuri was the one to keep you from completely losing yourself, absolutely refusing to let you become a mindless soul stuck in a business suit and wedged between the crowds in a subway, needlessly calculating away to gain more greed and wealth. “You’re too good for that,” she once told you when you had unexpectedly showed up at her door, drenched from the rain and your own tears caused by a string of unfortunate events.

(“You’re at your best when you’re a little more free, a little more relaxed, you know?”)

“But your weekend shoots are fun!”

“Which is exactly why you should do more other fun stuff!” Sayuri exclaimed before she took a sip from her bottle of ramune. “You know what? Tonight. We’re gonna download Tinder and tapple. You’re a hot commodity, and there’s gotta be some decent guy who’s down for a few casual dates. Hell, you might even have a better chance at finding another girl who can treat you right.”

“You’re not wrong,” you sighed. “Some men can be such pigs sometimes.”

“A-fucking-men.”

Sayuri rarely ever went back on her word, and much to your chagrin, you found yourself curled up next to her on her cream faux-leather couch. Her arm slung over your shoulders as she helped you pick out your best photos, including a shot she had taken of you when she begged you to be her subject on one of her shoots. “My professor needs me to practice portrait shots, please please please help me out here?” She had implored a couple weeks ago, and because you could never say no, you had grumbled your agreement before putting on a nicer outfit and some light makeup. You weren’t going to lie – those were some of the best pictures of you by far, and made you look much more attractive than you ever thought or felt.

A bio was set, photos strategically ordered, and you were tossed into the world of online dating.

“This is a really bad idea,” you groaned ten minutes later as Sayuri swiped through the profiles showing up in your pool. “I haven’t even slept with anyone before.”

“Oh honey, I bet half of these men only ever got their dick wet once and came in two minutes flat. They think they’re impressing someone but they’re only fooling themselves,” Sayuri scoffed and then grimaced at a man’s daringly shirtless mirror selfie. “This poor guy needs to eat more; I can see his ribcage! You don’t need someone who doesn’t appreciate food.”

“What if he’s got an eating disorder?” You seriously speculated, heart going out to the possibility of that.

“Well now you make me feel bad after swiping left on him and – oh hey! You got a match!”

“What? Who the hell did you swipe right on?!” You screeched; chin craned to get a good look at the person on your phone.

“Calm down, you don’t need to worry! I have impeccable taste in men! Hey, don’t give me that look,” she cried out when she saw the questioning raise of one of your eyebrows. “Look, he was cute, had a safe bio, and he goes to Tokyo Tech! So he’s a smartypants like you! Guy must’ve been swiping around too for there to be a match this early.”

“So he’s just desperate and I got swiped right on for passing his minimum standards? Am I supposed to feel like I should be given an award?” You scowled.

“Just wait for him to message first. Keep it light and breezy, we’ll see if he’s suspicious later,” Sayuri waved off, continuing with her search for your perfect, laid-back date.

“But seriously, I’m worried some guy is gonna start expecting sex from me,” you huffed, leaning back to lay your head on her shoulder. Instinctively, she rested her own on top of yours.

“You’re really worried, huh?”

“Makes me a little anxious, yeah,” you admitted, fingers fiddling with a stray thread on the sleeve of your old Shiratorizawa jacket.

“Tell me about it.”

“Well...I’m not waiting until marriage or anything. I’m not putting my virginity on a pedestal or anything, I just kinda want to get it over with, you know? I know your first time probably isn’t all flowers and rainbows, but I figured that I’d at least want to lose it to someone I trust.”

“So you’ve thought about this quite a bit then?”

“Have for a while, if I’m honest.”

“Name them.”

“But—”

“Names, (y/n). I gotta make sure they’re good enough for you.”

“They’re decent, I promise. I mean, I just know they’d never hurt me or throw me to the curb after it happens.”

“You do realize that’s the bare minimum, right?”

“Do you want names or not?”

“Okay okay, go.”

You exhaled as blood rushed to your cheeks. To say their names out loud made it much more embarrassing, especially since there was a high chance they never thought about you sexually before.

“Semi Eita, Daichi Sawamura, and…Ushijima Wakatoshi,” you mumbled the last name, knowing Sayuri’s less-than-positive feelings for the guy. She knew the entire history of your relationship with him, not that it involved a whole ton, but she was just overly protective of you.

“Ushijima Wakatoshi?? Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Did you not hear the other two?” You squealed, swatting her with a sleeve that you had retracted your arm into.

“Okay, fine, but tell me about them.”

“Promise not to laugh?”

“Can’t.”

“Ugh, okay look. Eita is...he’s a nice guy. He seems a little rough around the edges, but he was always soft with me. Never gave me a hard time until he got replaced with another starting setter our third year, but he knew it was for the better of the team, as much as he didn’t like it. And even though his competitive streak got the best of him sometimes, he just...I don’t know. He’s dependable in his own way, stuck with me after the break-up and would check in on me from time to time. We still keep in touch a little.”

“Find me a picture of him, then tell me about the other guy.”

“Sure,” you agreed, tapping and swiping through your phone, mainly scrolling through years and years of photos you had kept. “Daichi-san is...well, he’s like if Wakatoshi was more emotionally available.”

“(Y/n), anyone is more emotionally available than Ushijima.”

“He softened up towards the end of our third year, okay? Cut him some slack, please. Anyways,” you cut Sayuri off. “I met Daichi-san our third year briefly during the Spring Qualifiers for Nationals. Extremely nice guy, mature, seemed pretty dependable being the captain of a team with some rowdy underclassmen at the time,” you lightly laughed at the memories.

“You’re really into the dependable type, aren’t you? Reliable? Takes care of you? Can relieve your stress at the end of a long day? Do you have a da—” Sayuri insinuated suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows until you finally interrupted her.

“Hey, there’s no kink-shaming in this friendship!”

“I’m just teasing, babe. Go on about Mr. Dependable” she giggled, causing you to roll your eyes as you continued.

“I saw him a bit more when I picked up a part-time job at a local convenience store for a couple months, only because I quit my online tutoring job. It was just before graduation, but he visited a few times. Seemed like it was closer to his house than the one he usually stopped at by his school. It was never busy, and he’d stick around to chat.”

“Oh my god, he was into you!”

“What? No! Like I said, he’s honestly just really, really nice. Did you know he’d buy his teammates buns every once in a while?”

“Oh, for the love of God, you had a crush on him, too!”

“Fine, just a tiny one!” You quickly admitted while batting away Sayuri’s excitable swats on your thigh. “But I was worried he was just some rebound crush, and he was staying in Miyagi while I was preparing to move here, so it’s not like anything would’ve happened. He was funny, too, and always asked about my well-being even though he didn’t really know me. Honestly, he was too good for me,” you said quietly and seemingly deflated.

“Nobody’s ever too good for you,” Sayuri comforted and pulled you into her arms. “I don’t care how perfect they are. If anything, you’re too good for them.”

“You hype me up too much,” you smiled sadly, holding onto her intertwined limbs. “I just...he didn’t deserve to get pulled into my mess. And it’s not just him – nobody deserves to. The last thing I want to do is hurt someone because I couldn’t get my shit together.”

“...even if you get hurt yourself?” Sayuri murmured.

Your silent, solemn answer spoke volumes. Life had turned you into somewhat of a martyr, someone absolutely terrified of inconveniencing others, yet relentless in your support for the important individuals around you.

“One day,” Sayuri started gently. “You’re gonna find a guy who loves and cherishes you to no end. You’re gonna get a taste of the love that you give to others, and he’ll never let you go. He’ll stick with you through everything, and you’ll realize that you do deserve that kind of love. It’s inevitable, really only a matter of time. And maybe he’ll show up when you least expect it. Just don’t give up yet, okay?”

“...okay,” you mumbled, tightening your grip momentarily as a tacit gesture of gratitude. “Sayuri, if we’re 30, single, and same-sex marriage gets legalized in Japan, can we get married?”

“Sweetie, we don’t have to do it in Japan, might as well just move to the U.S. and get married there. So yeah, sounds like a plan,” Sayuri agreed, half-joking.

And she knew you meant it, too.

6.5 years ago

You (jokingly) blamed Sayuri completely for anything that happened on Tinder afterwards.

Many casual conversations turned fruitless, never getting to the level of comfort that you felt you wanted to meet someone face-to-face. The search became more of a pastime than anything, and it became the same old, boring procedure. Reintroducing yourself and your interests for what seemed like the twentieth time existed like an unwanted pill you had to swallow every day, a habit done with a sense of boredom and banality. Sayuri called you picky, and perhaps you were looking too much into it. But you were allowed to have standards, right?

About half a year after your first night with Tinder, you found a person that you felt somewhat okay with. Ito Tsugumi was a junior at the Tokyo Medical and Dental University living in the undergraduate campus. He seemed respectable, understanding, and never made fun of your own interests and likes. The guy completely understood that this was casual, but he still wanted to meet you at least once, take you out for coffee or something and see where it goes from there. And that was perfectly fine with you.

March weather meant it was still pretty chilly in Japan and living by the ocean didn’t exactly help. You were glad that this was just a coffee date, because not only did it mean you could indulge in a nice cup of hot chocolate, but you also didn’t have to worry too much about how nice you looked because all of that could be sacrificed in the name of warmth. If Tsugumi was going to judge you based on your outfit designed for comfort, he wouldn’t be worth your time anyways.

Anxiety coaxed you into arriving at the designated café ten minutes early, shakily paying with your card and almost dropping it en route to the cashier’s hands. You spotted an empty two-seater along the back wall, but not right by the glass window where the frost would most likely creep through. Positioned in a seat so you’d have a decent view of the entrance, you sent a frantic text to Sayuri for moral support because your nerves were absolutely frying at the moment, to which she sent you a Sailor Moon GIF of Usagi throttling Minako before a message that read, “you’re a cute piece of ass and he knows it. flaunt it babe!” Rouge flooded your cheeks out of the embarrassment that was now mixing with the butterflies in your stomach, and luckily you fought it down when the door rang open.

If you had to be honest, Tsugumi looked more handsome in person than in his pictures, and that screamed danger to you. He only had to look around the café once before spotting you and quickly made his way to your table with a smile. While part of you had registered it as a bit of a Cheshire grin, you immediately dismissed it as a product of your paranoia. This was just a meeting with something warm to drink, right? There was no rule stating that a relationship had to come out of this. If he ever gave off a warning sign, all you had to do was run and never speak to him again. Easy.

You stood from your seat, almost entirely putting your weight on the table when your legs momentarily refused to cooperate with you. The grin on his face held firm as you bowed to each other in greeting and you couldn’t help but have a small one of your own. Were you flattered that he arrived five minutes ahead of the original meeting time? Perhaps just a little, but maybe you were sweating the small details too much.

“Have you already ordered? I can get us something,” he offered. Just as you were about to let him know that you already bought a drink, one of the baristas showed up with a large mug of hot chocolate and set it down with a table napkin. You quickly bowed and thanked them before turning back to Tsugumi sheepishly, gesturing awkwardly towards the white porcelain cup.

“It’s really nice of you to offer though,” you tried to appease. “We’re all broke university students anyways, I wasn’t going to make you buy me a drink.”

“I would’ve been more than happy to,” he replied warmly, a sense of adoration in his eyes that seemed far too intimate for just a first meeting. Nevertheless, his gaze made you avert your own to trace the swirls in your drink. “I’ll be right back,” he continued before leaving to order. Good, this gave you a few necessary moments to gather your bearings.

You needed to calm the fuck down. This wasn’t your first rodeo, though Sayuri would vehemently disagree. “Weekly walks around your high school campus don’t count as dates, (y/n),” she quipped in the past, giving up when you, for the thousandth time, defended Wakatoshi and his actions. And you had been very attracted to him as well, so what was so nerve-wracking about this now? Your relationship with Wakatoshi had held far more implications if things ever ended badly, with the same social circles and everything. Ito Tsugumi was merely a dot outside of most of your realms and possessed very little power over the important things in your life. Your focus needed to be on something else for the time-being, like the smell of ground beans with sweet traces of freshly baked pastries, or the faint coffeehouse music playing through the speakers, or the pots of devil’s ivy hanging from the ceiling. Just anything besides wondering if you had stray hairs out of place, or if your makeup wasn’t blended correctly, if your nails looked asymmetrical—

You had put on your best “I’m doing great!” face once Tsugumi was returning to his seat opposite of you. At first, nothing was said and the both of you could only laugh at the awkward shift in air. But when you spotted a faint shade of scarlet on his cheeks, you felt that you could let out a breath of relief because perhaps, you weren’t the only one feeling a little nervous.

Tsugumi was a wonderful conversationalist and an appreciator of comfortable silence. He seemed just as nice as he was in his messages, and when you went on occasional ramblings of something you felt passionate about, he listened attentively and always asked the right questions at the appropriate times. Even when you profusely apologized for talking too much the first time, he only gave you a blinding smile with his head tilted cutely before saying, “It’s okay, I like listening to you talk.”

And your heart was nearly set aflame.

Two hours easily passed the both of you by, with you discovering much more about him: He wanted to be a dermatologist, had lived in Tokyo his whole life, doted excessively on his mother who owned a little bakery near his house, had a good bond with his older brother who was working to be a pilot, was aware of the fact that he came off as a douchebag sometimes, admitted to some said stereotypical douchebag behaviors, and owned a cute little bobtail cat named Renji. Tsugumi eagerly asked for another chance to meet with you, promising that he would buy your drink no matter what. Is it allowed that someone even dares to match your view of perfection? Is he flying too close to the burning star?

You learned a few weeks later that you should have never given him the chance.

And what was absolutely infuriating was that you should’ve noticed it sooner. The sun he was reaching so highly for was not to become the perfectly flawed man, but attempting to attain something out of greed and selfish desires. He was abandoning any apathy for the people he drew into his sticky web as long as they helped him build his wings, and you fell for it.

(“I like you a lot, you know? You’re probably one of the nicest girls I’ve ever met.”

“With your history of partners, that’s not possible,” you laughed softly. “You probably met way more nicer girls, just never got the time to get to know them.”

“I’m serious, though. I think I’m pretty lucky meeting you.”

“…thank you.” But you couldn’t bring yourself to believe him.)

With Ushijima, perhaps you had jumped in too quickly; so with Tsugumi, you made sure to maintain a healthy distance at all times. You were determined to take this slow and learn from your previous mistakes, and while that could have saved you a whole world of hurt, it wasn’t enough. Tsugumi wove you into his life by joining you on study dates, always doing his best to meet you at your university library instead of his, bringing you small snacks you had mentioned liking once or twice, calling you frequently when you were both free to check up on you and ask how your day was, and even dragging you along to meet his mother at her bakery. By that time, only three weeks had passed, and you had become (rightfully) concerned.

The gentle chime of the bell on the bakery doors had quietly alerted the matriarch of the Ito family of a customer’s arrival, and though her face had visibly brightened at the presence of her younger son, hesitation quickly crossed her eyes as they landed on you and the intertwined hands. Minute facial reactions could speak volumes, so you took that glance to heart as something to healthily ponder over, knowing that there must be some reason for it. His mother was nothing but polite, even gifting you an almond croissant when Tsugumi mentioned it was one of your favorite pastries. You desperately tried to pay, almost embarrassed that you were given something for free, but she wouldn’t have it and Tsugumi had to drag you out before you snuck too much change into the tip jar. But after you had bowed and had begun to wave goodbye, another emotion formed on her face and nearly caused you to stumble.

(Minutes later, you had placed it as pity.)

It all came to sense when Sayuri frantically called you the next night, strumming up every possible curse against “stupid, greedy swine in the form of men”, Tsugumi’s name laced between the syllables slipping off her tongue. You had immediately shut your notebook closed, trying to calm her down, “Hey, whoa, slow down Sayuri, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Holy fuck, (y/n), he’s got a fucking girlfriend!”

Three things crossed your brain then. 1) You were glad that you had maintained the walls around your heart, 2) Tsugumi was cheating on his girlfriend, and 3) you were unexpectedly not surprised that something like this had come up. Your dating life had started with a streak of bad luck, and you were pretty convinced that it would strike again, no matter what.

But that hadn’t stopped you from feeling your heart drop to your feet, simultaneously also feeling the breath get knocked out from your chest. Completely speechless, you spent a few seconds processing Sayuri’s words and quickly after, the anger began to simmer through your veins. In fact, you weren’t exactly angry that he had strung you along (due to your guarded, paranoid detachment) – you were more furious at the fact that he was probably cheating on some lovely girl, and even if she wasn’t lovely, nobody deserved to be cheated on. Not even a snake like Tsugumi.

You sighed. “Well, how’d you find out?”

“You said the fucker didn’t have social media? Well I decided to snoop because who doesn’t have social media these days—” “Plenty of people don’t, Sayuri.” “Well, with his looks and his past – again, it’s not a problem that he’s slept around, he can do whatever the hell he wants for all I care AND as long as he doesn’t have double standards – but I figured there had to be something out there. I found an old Twitter account, then found what I thought was his ex-girlfriend’s account but it’s actually his girlfriend’s account, and it turns out, he’s got a newer Twitter account he actually keeps up with. He thinks he might be slick, but the idiot didn’t even put his profile on private.”

You held the phone between your shoulder and ear as Sayuri spelled out the girlfriend’s Twitter handle to you, your fingers simultaneously typing it into your web browser. Another handle is listed in her cutesy bio, saying that she belonged to the owner of this other profile, and when you open it in another tab, Tsugumi’s face stares straight back at you. Sayuri was right – he had done a pretty shit job at hiding this. A cursory look through his tweets and hers, everything you needed to know was there.

She was a first year at a university in Kyoto who spoke highly of Tsugumi, tweeting photos of them two and tagging him quite often, and her friends all supported their relationship. It made you feel sick to your stomach that you had been spending time with a cheater, one who was throwing away a three-year relationship.

“Are you okay, (y/n)?” Sayuri asked through the speaker. You didn’t realize that you had been quiet for the last few minutes, so wrapped up in your thoughts.

“I need to talk to him,” you said quietly as your heart began to race. Confrontations were not your forte, no matter how much your business classes tried to prepare you to be a stronger speaker. It should be easy, like ripping off a Band-aid, yet the idea of calling Tsugumi up and telling him that you had to stop seeing each other wracked your nerves like an earthquake.

“Easy. Call him and tell him to go fuck himself, then hang up and block his number. He doesn’t deserve any more of your time.”

“I know, but…you know I’m not good at this kind of stuff. And I’ve never had to have this conversation with anyone before…”

“(Y/n). You used to manage a whole team of teenage athletes, and I know there were a ton of times when you had to put your foot down and get them in line. Treat this snake like one of them, get it through his head that he should burn in hell—” “Sayuri!” “—and then avoid him for the rest of your life.”

You sighed again and massaged your temples. That’s right, you could be firm, and with Tsugumi who you hadn’t been that close to, it should be easy to just let him know that the act was up. Yeah, you could do this.

“Do you want to keep me on the call?” Sayuri asked, her anger finally simmering down.

“No, it’s okay, I can handle this. But thank you though.”

“Yeah of course,” she replied softly, compassionately. “Are you okay though?”

“Well…maybe it hasn’t fully hit me yet, but it’s frustrating.”

“You can be angry, you know.”

“I’m not angry, I just…” you hesitated, searching for the right words to better describe your feelings. But without control, your throat began to close and choke, salty tears clouding your vision. You desperately tried to hold back the first sob with a hand over your mouth, panic striking your heart at the sudden rush of despair, but Sayuri quickly caught on.

“(Y/n)...” Sayuri cooed, her tone sympathetic and soft.

“No, if—if I’m angry,” you hiccupped, wiping your spilled tears away messily. “That means I cared, even though I told myself I shouldn’t have,” your voice cracked and heaved another sob as your heart took the final twist of the knife. Everything that you had tried doing to prevent the painful effects of possible disappointment were coming to crash down on you, and all for nothing. Sayuri held silent and let you cry out your anguish – she knew better than anyone that you just needed these moments of catharsis, to let all your emotions out before you would try to think logically again.

“God, I’m such a fucking idiot,” you blubbered after a couple of minutes, standing to retrieve a tissue from the kitchen.

“You’re not, really. You give people the benefit of the doubt and try to see the best in them. Usually that’s not bad, but…an asshole decided to come along and take advantage of it. Don’t beat yourself up, okay?”

“I’ll try but…fuck, it’s so embarrassing to think about it now. All the signs were probably there, right? And I just believed everything he told me,” you sniffled, setting your phone down with the speaker on as you blew your nose.

“I’ll be there in the next hour or so,” she stated resolutely, and you could hear her moving around her apartment.

“Sayuri, you don’t—”

“Don’t be silly, (y/n). It’s not a good time to be alone now, okay? You want me to pick anything up from that convenience store by the station?”

You had let out another mucus-y sniffle, eyes roaming over the cabinet door of where your snacks were. “…can you see if they’ve got a bag of that flower plum candy I like? If not, a bag of nori-shio chips, please.”

“Of course. Hang in there, okay? Don’t call or text him until I’m there.”

“Got it. Thank you so much.”

“You don’t need to thank me, (y/n). And look…,” Sayuri trailed off and your ears caught onto her shutting and locking a door. “It’s okay to ask for help, you know? Especially if it’s me, so don’t forget that.”

“But—”

“I know you’d do the same thing for me, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then there’s no problem. I’ll be there as soon as possible, will keep you updated. Love you!”

“Love you too, Sayuri. Be safe.”

Click.

Two hours later, with an opened bag of candy in the cabinet and an empty bag of chips in the trash can, sleep came to you and Sayuri in your bed, and you had never felt luckier.

Based on Tsugumi’s calling habits, you weren’t surprised that your phone rang on the dining table sometime around 10AM, the screen lit up with a picture you had taken of him at the library on one of your study dates. It amazed you for a second how easily your emotions could be flipped around, that this specific set of colored pixels had once brought you a tiny amount of fondness and only now twisted your face in extreme discomfort. Last night, you and Sayuri had run through all possible scenarios of why Tsugumi decided two-timing was something to engage in, including his possible thought process behind getting you involved in his life so quickly. At the end of it, two things were 99% certain: you were going to let him explain, and you were not going to give him a second chance.

“It’s like ripping off the Band-aid,” Sara had echoed your previous analogy when talking about your worries and hesitations in the confrontation again last night. “The quicker you get it over with, the better.”

“But it’s the ripping-off that’s the worst part, not what comes after. Tsugumi isn’t one to give candid, quick explanations either. He’ll probably try to get me to forgive him, which only prolongs the inevitable. So it’s…a slow rip, not the kind where you can bite your tongue and yank it off as fast as you can – and it’s more painful that way, too.”

“You’ve got a point,” Sayuri had huffed. “If anything, I’ll be here for moral support.”

She casted you a quick look over her shoulders from the sink where she graciously offered to wash the dishes from breakfast, and your pursed lips gave the tacit confirmation that it was none other than Tsugumi on the phone. One quick sigh later, you swiped the green pick-up button, activated the speaker, and answered, “Hello?”

“G’morning, (y/n)! How are you? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you replied softly, wanting to stay calm and collected. “How are you?”

“I’m good, I was just a little worried since you said you were tired so early last night. It’s not like you to sleep before 11PM. Did anything happen?”

You discretely scoffed to yourself, hoping that Tsugumi hadn’t caught it. Sayuri rolled her eyes in such a dramatic fashion that you almost burst out laughing.

“Nothing much, I just had a really long day and felt kinda tired.”

“Well, I feel better now hearing that you’re okay. I’m glad you weren’t sick or anything. Did you get a good sleep last night then?”

“It was good, yeah.” But no thanks to you.

“Well, if you’re up for it, you wanna go out today? It’s the weekend and I have some free time before I need to start studying for our next round of exams. Did you want to check out that bookstore on the other side of the city? Or the Ghibli museum over in Mitaka?

“Ito-san, can you do something for me?”

“…sure, what is it?”

You quickly took a deep breath. This was it; this was the start of the discerption.

“Can you tell me why you’re cheating on your girlfriend of three years who clearly has no idea of what you’re up to?”

The chilling silence that resonated throughout the apartment sent shivers down your spine. Sayuri had long finished up washing and drying, and the only sound that was registering was the chirping of birds outside your window. Even then, it was faint at best, and you briefly wondered if Tsugumi had just hung up on you. But an electric rustle and a static sigh convinced you otherwise, and Sayuri’s expression morphed into one that simply signaled, “Get ready for the bullshit.”

“…so you found out then?”

“You didn’t exactly try very hard to hide it,” you quipped while crossing your arms.

“I know, I just…when did you find out? And how?”

“Last night, and how doesn’t matter.”

“But—”

“Why are you doing this? I know social media usually isn’t much to base personality on, but she seems pretty nice and definitely doesn’t deserve to have a boyfriend who’s been sleeping with other girls for the majority of the last eighteen months.”

“You don’t know anything!” He quickly defended himself, but not elaborating any further. “It’s just really complicated…and she’s not what she seems.”

“Okay, so let’s say she isn’t. If it’s been so bad dating her…why haven’t you broken up?”

“We never…got around to it, I guess?” His voice came out sheepish. At least the guy felt some shame in his actions.

“You’re ridiculous. Did you really think you were going to get away with this forever? Like what if I hadn’t found out?” You almost seemed desperate to know the workings of his conscience, simply because no matter what his explanation was, it would most definitely confound you. Were you being too simple-minded?

“I swear I was going to break up with her! I really wanted to – you made me want to finally talk to her and just end things –” This time, you made sure Tsugumi heard your scoff of disbelief. “—and I promise, it was going to end eventually, and I was going to seriously ask you out. I know you don’t believe me, but I’m serious.”

“Ito-san…if you did break up with her, would you have told me about it later on?”

“…no, I wouldn’t have.”

At the end of the day, his honest and unfortunate answer resolved all your doubts.

“I figured as much. At least you were honest with me about it and didn’t bother lying to say you would have.”

“I’m really sorry, I really didn’t mean to hurt you this much. You’re such a nice girl, (y/n), seriously. I’m so sorry and I don’t…deserve a second chance, but could we still be friends?”

“You didn’t hurt me,” you snapped at him. “I was more worried about how much you’re hurting your girlfriend.”

“…oh.”

“Yeah, and while you probably caught on that my self-esteem isn’t exactly the highest, I know that I don’t deserve to be lied to and strung along for the ride or for whatever game you’re playing yourself against.”

“That wasn’t what I—”

“You know what? Fuck being your friend, too,” you bit out, your anger getting the best of you again. “Nobody likes being friends with liars, and I’m not about to change that for myself, much less change that for you. Maybe in like, 40 years when we’ve all moved on with our lives and you’ve become a better person, but if you’re asking to be my friend now after everything you’ve done, that’s a firm no.”

“But please—”

“You need to fix this shit. Do you realize that I met your mom? And I could see it in her eyes – she knew exactly what you were doing, right? She knew you were still dating someone else, but you wanted me to see her for some sick, twisted reason. I’m telling you; I could see it in her face, and you know what it said? She pitied me, Ito-san. I’m sure she’s a nice person, but I bet 10 to 1 that the croissant she gave me was out of guilt, because clearly, I had no idea what was happening. You can’t tell me that I’m wrong, can you?”

“Oh god,” he muttered, and you almost hadn’t heard him with the blood boiling in your ears. “Yeah, she was actually really pissed. Lectured me for a whole hour over the phone that night, told me she didn’t raise me to be a cheater and stuff.”

“Well, I’m not going to repeat it. But whatever else she probably said, I agree with her. Get your shit together, honestly. It’ll do you some good,” you stated resolutely.

“We really can’t be friends?”

“No. But…look, if you’re in some sort of really toxic relationship with this girl, you can tell me, okay?” You ignored the incredulous look on Sayuri’s face, taciturnly promising that you’ll explain yourself after the call when she starts making large X’s with her forearms and mouthing, “Hang up!!”

“I’m not saying it’s okay to be friends – I’m just saying that if you’re struggling with something and need someone to talk to, you can…talk to me. But only if I’m your last resort. I know you have other good friends, so you can’t use this as an excuse to try and get close with me again. It’s not gonna work.”

“…Mom was right, you know? You really are too good for me, too nice.”

“I don’t know about that, but maybe she’s onto something. Don’t make me regret it.”

“I won’t. Thank you, and again, I’m really sorry. I’m so sorry, (y/n). You didn’t deserve this.”

“Your apology’s accepted, but you’re not forgiven. Remember what I said: do what you can to fix it now before it all comes crashing down on you.”

“Okay. Then this is goodbye?”

“More of an extremely prolonged ‘see you later’, Ito-san. Take care of yourself.”

“You too. Bye then – I’m sorry.”

“Bye, Ito-san.”

And before the boy received another second to delay the inevitable, you somewhat aggressively tapped on the bright red hang up button. Immediately, your shoulders slumped and fell back into your seat, a breath escaping your lungs as if you had been underwater for the entire duration of the call. Your eyes focused on the chipped paint of your ceiling, vision blurring as you begin to think back on the phone call. Was there anything you could have done differently? Had you been too soft on Tsugumi by giving him permission to contact you as a last resort?

“Yes, you pulled a ludicrous move, if that’s what you’re asking yourself,” Sayuri commented, her own arms crossed in front of her chest. Sometimes, she knew you a little too well.

“I was just trying to be nice,” you half-groaned and half-whined, bending back forward to bury your head in your hands.

“Well, what’s done is done, you can’t take it back now,” Sayuri said defeatedly, coming towards you to pull you into a hug. “If he’s smart and can take a hint, he’ll stay away.”

You returned her embrace as best as you could. The Band-aid was off now, wound exposed to the open air, but you knew it would eventually heal. The only remnants of it would exist as faint memories, the pain fleeting at best.

“I think we should tell the girlfriend,” you suggested to Sayuri. Tsugumi would probably end up extremely furious with you, but not only did you owe him utterly nothing, he never said you couldn’t say anything to her either. So with Sayuri’s Twitter account, an elaborate explanation, a link to a folder on Google Drive with screenshots of your text conversations both on and off Tinder (the ones that you’d have to be in a deep state of denial to think were untrue or simply taken out of context), you completed the task that no person would ever want to accomplish in their lives. As heart-wrenching and torturous it would inevitably be, Tsugumi’s girlfriend deserved the truth and the ability to take matters into her own hands. Had your positions been switched, you would’ve liked for her to do the same.

Hours later in the living room, you made the executive decision to delete your profile and uninstall Tinder from your phone. While Tsugumi might have been an odd, terrible, slightly harrowing experience in trying to start a relationship with someone, perhaps you weren’t ready for one either. You needed to wait until you were more confident, bolder, and had things locked down in your future. For now, any efforts toward desiring and developing a serious romantic relationship would be redirected to your academics and career. That stability had to come first in advance of your emotional needs.

When you expressed this to Sayuri, she gave you a look that seemed somewhat disapproving. Instantly, you began to curl in on yourself, doubt coiling around your heart. “Do you think I’m…overreacting?”

Sayuri shook her head as a small smile graced her complexion. “I can’t dictate how you feel, and if I were in your position, I’d probably be thinking the same thing.” Her eyes softened as she drew up her knees to her chest. “But you know what I said when we first started all this: I don’t want you to give up just yet. What if there’s a really great guy that comes along but you’re still trying to focus on your career? Are you gonna deny yourself and make it a missed opportunity?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered, feeling troubled now. “I guess…he’d have to really be amazing for me to even consider it, you know? But who knows, I’d probably do something reckless and end up hurting myself again.”

Sayuri could tell that your anxiety was beginning to get the best of you, the doubts and insecurity once again plaguing the blood in your veins. This conversation had to be postponed for later – because now, your recovery was of utmost importance.

“You know what you need now that you’ve sworn off men for the next few years?” Sayuri started, her tone unexpectedly filled with mirth and suggestive insinuations. The Cheshire grin spelled trouble to you, and you were becoming afraid at what the answer was. Shakily, you humored her, “What would that be?”

Sayuri denied you an immediate answer as she abruptly bounced up from the floor, scuttling off to your room before returning with your laptop. Her fingers quickly pried it open, excitement rolling off her in bright ripples as she gestured for you to type in your password. As soon as you unlocked the device, she snatched it away and took over the keyboard. You warily eyed the screen as she pulled up an incognito window and typed in the website to Amazon.

“What are you doing??”

“Okay, (y/n), tell me. Do you know why sex toys were invented?”

Immediately, you wanted to melt into the ground. Not out of embarrassment per say, as you’ve had open conversations about sex and related topics with Sayuri multiple times, but if you were going to be truthful, this definitely wasn’t the first time she was trying to get you to buy a sex toy or two for yourself. There was no way you made it almost twenty-one years of life without having masturbated before, and you were okay with just your fingers now (and occasionally, your detachable showerhead).

“They were invented because people want to feel good. Do you know how many people on this earth have dicks and can’t figure out how to use them well, but still think they’re a gift to the world? I bet the majority of them couldn’t definitively tell you where the clit is, and I bet even more still think that girls pee out of their vagina. And you know what? Everyone deserves a partner who will take the time to figure out what makes them feel good, especially those with a vagina. Best way to do that is to find out yourself and see what works for you.”

“But I’m fine with what I do now!”

“Just please trust me on this one, okay?? Get a vibrator at least, please?? If you hate it, I’ll treat you to dinner for a week!”

You waved her off. “You don’t need to do that, but you just need to promise you’ll stop trying to talk me into buying more sex toys.”

“Deal. But I really doubt that’s gonna happen,” she sang, typing in a couple of words into the search bar. “I’ll buy it this time.”

“Hey—”

“Consider it an early birthday present! If you want to pay me back so badly, buy me our next couple rounds of curry don and we’ll call it even.”

“I can’t fight you on this, can I?” You asked dejectedly, accepting defeat and waving a white flag.

“Nope!” Sayuri exclaimed, absolutely no shame whatsoever in her voice. Instead, she sounds entirely elated that you have very little say in this, but in her defense, you weren’t exactly protesting. “Here we go – and we get that sweet, sweet Prime shipping. Yes, I know what you want to say—” Sayuri interjected when you opened your mouth with an objection. “Jeff Bezos is a terrible man who’s providing a good service but should distribute his wealth better, but I’m still on that free student trial? I know I’m already going to hell, but I’ll make up for it in the next life!”

There was never a way to stop Sayuri from doing what she wanted if she had her mind set, and this just happened to be one of them. A few more clicks of the touchpad and taps of the keyboard echoed throughout your apartment before Sayuri shut your laptop closed. You didn’t need to hear her confirmation that the deed was done, given the vicarious excitement stretched across your best friend’s face.

At the end of the day, this was Sayuri’s way of trying to comfort you, reminding you that she always had your best interests at heart. Your heart brimmed to the edge with sentiment and gratitude, causing your own giddy laugh to spill from your lips.

Life seemed to resume its regular routine afterwards, as mundane as it can be for a university student. Sayuri had you tag along on her shoots again, then you would return home to finish up some assignments and get your readings done, the lingering smell of dinner wafting around in the kitchen as you scrubbed a pan clean – truly, the only thing that seemed to be missing was Tsugumi’s incessant phone calls. But you had neither the energy nor the apathy to long for them – and Sayuri was right. If he was smart, he would know better than to ever contact you again.

You hoped for all your sakes that he would learn to rewire his brain and think rationally.

Present

It takes you a few seconds to register the rapid knocks against your apartment door, the rapping of knuckles against hardwood reverberating with a sense of urgency. Part of you expected this sooner or later, but you are in no condition to face the person on the other side. The rhythm shifts as the beating of the wood begins to sound more solid, signifying that the visitor is now choosing to lightly bang their fists instead of calloused knuckles.

Please leave, you weakly scream in your mind, eyes screwing shut to combat the oncoming tears. Your figure begins to crumple even more against the rail of your balcony. You can’t see me like this, so please go.

“(Y/n), I know you’re in there,” a deep male’s voice permeates through the wood, though muffled and scratchy. “Please, let me talk to you. I’m sorry, I—” He pauses, a groan of frustration escaping his throat. Your vision refuses to refocus, bleary as you weakly take in your view of Tokyo again. Without a doubt, the man must be ruffling his hair frustratedly, distressed and discouraged.

“I shouldn’t have said that. Please let me in and apologize properly – I owe you that much.”

You owe me nothing, silly. It’s my fault.

Eyes the shade of the earth in the billboard observe you, and you wonder: if seen in person, would they have stared with pity?

It’s time to stop running away.

So with sluggish steps, you make your way to the only barrier barring you from your fate. The two deadbolts slide back and click in place, echoing louder than ever. Your hand trembles in its path to the doorknob, faintly grasping the chilling metal and turning it until the latch pulls back far enough to let the door open.

And there they were, the eyes that held the key to your undoing, that had watched you crumble and fall, that had looked after you in more ways than you could imagine, peering straight into yours. You know them well, perhaps too well, and your knees nearly buckle at their intensity. It takes every part of your being to stop yourself from slamming the door closed, to hide away and escape destiny.

It seems that irises in the shades of olive will be the banes of your existence.

4.5 years ago

It hadn’t taken you much to admit it, but Sayuri was undeniably forgiven for taking the initiative to buy you your first sex toys.

About a year and a half had passed since the whole Tsugumi fiasco without as much as a text from him. The virtual silence made it much easier for you to do as you planned: throw yourself into your academics, prepare yourself for your career, and simply focus on anything else but the gaping yearning for a romantic partner. In the time that flew by you, Sayuri secured her own boyfriend, a charming J1 league soccer player who complemented her well. And even though it was obvious how smitten they were with each other, Sayuri always made an effort to include you in their dinners and hang-outs, so much to the point that you felt a swirling mixture of embarrassment and guilt for how often you were third-wheeling them. You had classmates and other friends to hang out with occasionally, and you weren’t one to always feel the need to be with others. You could handle (and frequently chose) self-isolation to refuel on social reserves – it was abandonment that scared you most.

As per usual for many business majors, you spent a semester overseas to broaden your horizons, basing yourself out of a city in Germany and tagging along with the other exchange students around Europe. New traditions and customs were learned, museums and historical structures explored – though one thing you hadn’t expected to return with was a new portion of your brain designated for the nuances of alcohol. Something that you hadn’t meant to care for in the past now existed as a part of your business identity; you needed to know the different wine glasses, the different brands of whisky, how to choose your drink wisely, which drinks are acceptable depending on the situation. If you wanted people to take you seriously in a world that prevented women from touching the sky, you needed to pocket the things that others would normally take for granted.

Part of you believed you were a better version of your past self at Shiratorizawa – while you were busier than ever, your time management skills had improved. That wasn’t to say that procrastination was no longer your best friend; it had leveled down to just a really good friend. You still possessed many of the bad habits in picking up unnecessary projects right before big assignments were due, putting a little too much on your plate, and working yourself to the bone to get everything done on time. The slight improvement existed in the form of less time spent on them, and you embraced this small progress.

And for many months, life existed on that continuum: Sayuri, friends, family, academics, and career.

That was until you received a seemingly innocuous text from Semi Eita.

A text from Eita was not abnormal in any way – as you had mentioned to Sayuri previously, the two of you had kept in contact over the last few years and remained friends. The text that appeared on your phone on a Tuesday night caused a grin to split your face, and all thoughts of indulging in some “me-time” were instantly discarded as you read his message.

[“I’m planning on visiting Tokyo this weekend and checking out a couple of things for the band. Are you free to hang out?”]

To your surprise, you hadn’t run into many of your classmates from Shiratorizawa, not that you ever tried, perhaps. So that might’ve been on you, but somehow it was much easier to stay in touch with your volleyball boys, despite their shortcomings in reaching for Nationals. You rarely visited Miyagi, and even if you were in the area, it was during New Year’s when everyone would be with their families. Without the heart to pull them away from filial time and duties, updates on your boys came mainly from 4 different group chats and the occasional video calls. Eita asking if you were available to hang out was a chance for a breather that you didn’t realize you needed.

With the adrenaline and exhilaration pumping through your veins, you tapped a response that probably seemed too enthusiastic to be you: too many exclamation marks and too many offers.

[“you caught me at a good time!!! i have a couple of days off before i need to start on my next project. it’d be fun to show you around!! and depending on how long you plan on being here, you’re more than welcome to stay in my apt!!! i’ve got an air mattress and a futon, whichever you’d prefer!!”

“Actually, that’d be really nice. Are you sure it’s not a bother?”

“of course not, semi semi!!”

“I never should’ve told you that you saying that ridiculous nickname isn’t nearly as annoying as when Satori says it 🙃🙃. But if it really doesn’t bother you, I might take you up on that offer then. Going to and coming back from Tokyo in one day is too much, and I was starting to look at cheap inns. This way, we’d have more time to catch up and hang out.”

“honestly, stay as long as you need to!!! like i said, my whole weekend is free :). there’s a cute little place nearby that serves great tekka maki!! i’m also not too shabby at making it either.”

“My favorite food homemade? Satori would be really jealous. And probably Shibaru. I can’t wait to rub it in their faces.”

“i’ll send you the name of the station closest to me, and then i can pick you up!!! actually, just send me your itinerary when you figure it out so i can plan.”

“Once a manager, always a manager. Will do.”

“looking forward to it, semi semi!!”

“Me too.”]

Still riding the high, you keyboard-smashed a text to Sayuri, explaining what had just transpired and how excited you were to see an old friend. At first, she was just as happy for you, until she caught on to who exactly was coming to visit, and immediately sent an “OH SHIT” text, followed by a number of sexually suggestive emojis. She didn’t have to be there to know your cheeks were now thoroughly flushed – in fact, you had been trying to forget the fact that Eita was someone you were trusting your first time to have sex with, and you refused to trip yourself silly to make it possibly happen. Last you remember, Eita had dated a girl for a small period of time, but that was about a year and a half ago and there hadn’t been much word from him about it.

The next few days passed in a blur – as promised, Eita had sent you his general itinerary, and while he was a working man with a band as a side gig, train tickets from Miyagi to Tokyo weren’t exactly cheap. Knowing him, he would attempt to take opportunities to pay you back for your hospitality, and you were going to make sure that this wouldn’t happen. At least, not very often. You made a rough schedule around his own that included lots of down time, if there was somewhere he wanted to go visit himself, time for you to make meals for the both of you, one or two movie nights depending on how long he would stay, and more.

The task was almost overwhelmingly nostalgic, that instead of sitting hunched over at your desk in Tokyo, you were back home in your dorm at Shiratorizawa arranging their schedules in preparation for Nationals. This realization of yours came in the very early Thursday morning, but as you began to recall more and more of your time there, you abruptly stood from your chair and shook your head. Not long after, you burrowed yourself under the sheets, phone playing your sleep-inducing playlist on the nightstand as you desperately willed yourself to rest and retreat to the dream world for at least an hour or two.

Then Friday arrived, and before you knew it, you were standing at the designated train station, bouncing excitedly in the arrivals section. You were excessively tipping your toes to look over the others also waiting. But amongst the incoming crowd, you easily spotted Eita’s signature hair color, the familiar hue of ash blond filling you with adoration, and as soon as he was over the dividers, you couldn’t bother containing yourself and bounded over towards him. With a duffel bag slung on his shoulder, phone in hand, dark skinny jeans, a casual pale blue button-down with the sleeves rolled up[GU1] , his reflexes were quick enough to recognize the human bundle of joy sprinting towards him. Eita’s best memories of you were in your Shiratorizawa uniform, so seeing you in casual streetwear threw him for a loop at first.

The earnest beam on your face could warm the iciest of glaciers, and he easily lost against the facial muscles fighting to form into his own smile. As you deftly dodged the other people in your route to him, his arms seemed to naturally fall open in a gesture that welcomed your inevitable embrace. Eita was pretty sure you squealed before jumping onto him, but his focus had to redirect to his arms so they didn’t drop you.

“Semi Semi!” You happily cried out into his ear over the hustle and bustle, arms tight around his neck as he held you close. He gave you a brief, affectionate squeeze before setting you down, causing your arms to fall. But his hands held onto your shoulders, giving you a quick once over and making his assessment. He always had a soft spot for you back in high school, knowing that it wasn’t easy managing a team of teenage boys who were ridiculously hungry and driven for a common goal. When news got around the team that you and Ushijima had broken up, he always kept an extra eye out for you and worried that you’d continue to work yourself to the bone in university.

But the girl before him seemed different: you seemed brighter, elation and happiness rolling off your body in waves. Your face was a bit thinner than it was four years ago, but perhaps the childhood features had matured over time. Additionally, you were a bit taller, though he still could easily see over your head, and overall, you looked somewhat healthier. He hoped that you were learning to relax a little more and take some more time for yourself, again very much aware of your past self-destructive habits.

Eita said nothing and ruffled your hair playfully, a snicker leaving his lips as you pouted and moved to resolve the new half-made bird’s nest. “Come on,” he chuckled, fishing out his phone to open Snapchat. “I promised Satori a selfie of us the minute I saw you.”

“Well, we can’t have him waiting, can we?” You joked back, hiding half of your figure behind Eita’s free arm and giving your best beam over his shoulder. Eita gave his best half-smirk, half-smile, knowing that Satori would absolutely eat him alive out of jealousy. He took one and let you take a closer peek, but before he could send it with your approval, you reached over and swiped to see what filters could be used. To make it easier, Eita just handed over his phone and watched you add silly stickers, his eyes resuming his assessment of you again. But it didn’t take long until you were handing him back his phone, giggling as he took in your newly formed masterpiece and scoffed while hitting the send button.

“Come on, manager,” he sighed, slinging an arm over your shoulders as the two of you made your way to the exit doors. It took very little effort to drag you with him, not that you were complaining. “What’s the plan?”

“One second!” You exclaimed and tapped through your phone, pulling up the picture of the schedule you’ve made. “Oh, yes! Okay, how heavy is your stuff? Do you mind walking around with it?”

“It’s not much, just clothes and toiletries.”

“Perfect, I was really counting on you being a sufficient packer just like back then. We’re gonna make a detour on the way home – I need to get some groceries for dinner but there’s also this takoyaki stand near there that you just have to try! It’ll change your life, I promise.”

“Can I change my mind and say I want to go home first?” He asked jokingly, but that didn’t stop the narrowing of your eyes.

“You’re just saying that so you can throw our schedule off and make me suffer!” You accused when you spotted the devious smirk on his face, the kind he’d put up in the past sometimes when the ball landed just where he wanted it during a pinch serve. “Fuck you,” you cursed but with no malice at all, instead laughing at his antics. “I will leave you here alone right now and you’ll have to find somewhere else to stay for the night. Let’s see how well you do.”

“There’s this really powerful thing now called a cellphone, and it’s got this wonderful little app that can pull up the map of the world. Have you heard of it? It’s called Maps—”

“You’re insufferable,” you said as you shook your head and made a futile attempt to push him away from you. Eita either kept up with part of his exercise regimen or miraculously retained most of the muscle mass he gained in high school because the flesh at his waist refused to give in when you pressed firmly against it. All he had to do was tighten his arm a little bit to get you stuck against his side, and you knew you had lost for now.

“You lie, manager. Admit it, I was your favorite,” he teased.

“Have you always been this cocky? Just because you have a few people screaming your name during a gig doesn’t mean everyone wants you now,” you huffed.

“Doesn’t mean I wasn’t your favorite.”

“You’re wrong – Wakatoshi was my favorite.”

“Even after the breakup?”

“No doubt,” you replied with no hesitation.

“I still think you’re lying.”

“Whatever floats your boat, Eita-kun,” you chuckled, feeling quite comfortable under the hold of his arm. “Walk faster, I need to get the good produce at the store before it’s all snatched away.”

“Hey, I’m the one accommodating your tiny steps.”

“Take that back!”

Being with Eita was easy, to say the least. Old friends could fall in line together easily, and there was little to no awkwardness during interactions. He flitted around your apartment like he’d been living there for the past few years, and very few topics were off the table for conversation. You had become more open, a little livelier, he realized. If anything, his previous assumption of your current mental state was getting confirmed over and over by the minute – you were happier, a little more relaxed than how you were during the last year of high school.

As much as Wakatoshi was a good friend, based on Satori’s slip-up of what had happened, he wished you had been let down easier. It was more than a miracle that you hadn’t run away from them, but you were more guarded, putting up nothing more than a gentle, amiable smile most days. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen you genuinely laugh at their antics during practice. Yet you were here now, sitting next to him on your couch and almost full-out cackling at some ridiculous anecdote of his about his roommate freshman year. Maybe your giddiness was amplified by the shot of sake you took just fifteen minutes ago, but that, yet again, didn’t stop him from understanding that things have changed a lot in the last four years.

He likes this current you, somewhat new and improved. More relaxed, more open, more easy-going…this was good.

“So are you still talking to that girl from a couple years ago? What was her name,” you muttered and started snapping your fingers to get the ball rolling in your alcohol-muddled brain. “Oh! Her name was—”

“—Yui?”

“Yes!” You giggled, leaning back against the couch and sipping from your third shot of sake of the night. “I remember she was cute, sad that I never got to properly meet her.”

“It’s okay,” he smiled. “Yui and I were more casual anyways. She ended up moving when she got a new job and we’d be long distance, so we broke things off.”

“When’d that happen?”

“Mmmm, about a year and a half ago?” Eita questioned himself, a little unsure of the exact timeline. “Yeah, sounds about right,” he confirmed and leaned over to the coffee table to pour himself some more sake.

“That’s been a long time then,” you sighed. “Anybody else since?”

“Nope. Things got busy afterwards with the national exams and putting the band together, so I just never really thought about it. But what about you?” Eita asked curiously – had you moved on since your break-up with Wakatoshi?

At first, you hummed to yourself, eyebrows furrowed in a manner that suggested you were struggling to find the right words. But then your face relaxed and morphed into a mix of mischief and embarrassment, small laughs spilling from your lips and he was wondering if he needed to start worrying.

“I did see a guy a couple of years ago,” you began while staring into your cup, avoiding Eita’s gaze. “You wanna know how I met him?”

“How?”

“I…okay wait, do you promise not to judge me?” You somewhat slurred and held out a pinky as a gesture for him to fulfill a promise. He nodded and linked his pinky with your own, interlocking then twisting so you two could stamp thumbs.

“Good, so the answer to your question is…yes, I met a guy. On Tinder.”

Eita wasn’t expecting that last fragmented sentence to come from you of all people and had been mid-sip during your revelation. It was a miracle that he didn’t spit out the alcohol all over your couch, but he choked and had to pound his chest a couple of times as the sake went straight for his lungs.

“Don’t judge me!” You whined, shoving him from the side as he waved off your accusation. A full pout formed on your face and you looked genuinely upset.

“I’m not judging, I swear,” Eita ensured over haggard coughs. “I just didn’t expect that – I thought you were gonna tell me you met this guy at some random place on campus.”

“Once you know the whole story, you’ll be glad he doesn’t go to my uni,” you scoffed before downing the rest of your cup. Eita watched you wince and fight the pleasant burn down your throat, preparing for the possible train wreck of a story you insinuated.

You laid it all out for him, from the very beginning to when Sayuri first got you to download the app up until the last phone call you had with Tsugumi. Eita listened attentively, grimacing, laughing, and frowning at all the right moments. He watched you struggle to verbalize the anger you had felt, the frustration from even being angry to begin with, and by the time you were done, you were exhausted. You simply stared back at him with a lazy, tipsy smile that contrasted all the defeat in your bones and attempted to hide your efforts in pretending that you had completely moved on. Eita could tell, though, that that was unfortunately not the case. The pain had lingered, and you were never going to forget…or forgive yourself.

He released a heavy sigh, placing his empty cup gently on your coffee table and grabbing yours from your fingers as well. Once both were away from the possibility of being spilt, he reached out a hand to you, wiggling his fingers as a tacit gesture for you to grab them. Whether your fingers had trembled from the excess resentment or some personal effect from the sake, the second your fingers interlocked, your eyes began to water. At this sight, Eita quickly pulled you to him with a strength you had forgotten he possessed, repositioning your bodies until he was leaned against the back cushion with your side cuddled into his frame – your knees bent and feet on the other side of his thighs – and one arm wrapped around your shoulders with a free hand intwined with one of yours in your lap.

Part of him had expected you to completely break down and bawl, but instead you released silent tears, occasionally sniffling and wiping them away with your free hand. He murmured words of encouragement into your hair, just loud enough to not startle you but to remind you that he was there. Eita instantly regretted not keeping in touch more, even if Sayuri kept a close and endearing watch over your well-being. But you were engaging in an old habit of yours, the one where you’d put up a strong front to not give anyone a reason to worry, that you could handle things on your own.

Maybe he was feeling a bit lonely as well. The alcohol running through both his and your veins certainly wasn’t there to aid in any good decision-making, and the two combined with your own emotions, he wasn’t exactly sure what he was going for when he gazed down at you, waiting for you to look back up at him.

Your eyes were surely bloodshot by this time, and you could feel the tears slowly dry and crust between your eyelashes. Eita’s heavy, pointed scrutiny willed you to look back at him. Even with your slightly blurred vision and sake-addled brain, you failed to miss the way his eyes flickered down to where your lips were. Naturally, you glanced at his own with alarms softly sounding in your brain. This wasn’t a good idea, but you were two slightly lonely adults and if he wanted to…

Perhaps Eita had become a mind-reader over the last four years. Your heart rate skyrocketed as he leaned down at a snail’s pace, leaving you more than ample time to prevent this moment from ever happening. But it was undeniable that part of you wanted this, that at some time during senior year, you had briefly envisioned a few times what it would be like to kiss the setter.

Just once, to feed curiosity’s sake, to unveil the unknown.

Eita’s weakly parted lips were still, frozen when they gently met yours with the slightest bit of pressure. His shaky breaths faintly tickled your skin and you caught the whiffs of sake and something minty, the scent slowly intoxicating you. Something sparked in your veins, a slow tingle crawling up from the base of your spine, and you nearly shivered. A fragment of your brain registered the tightening of his hand in yours, a tacit and telling gesture of, “It’s okay. It’s up to you.”

You could resolve this in the morning.

You took the plunge, lips slowly moving against his to signal your tentative approval. Eita’s lips were as soft as rose petals, so tender against yours that reminded you of the full moon on a clear night sky. At every step, at every change, he soundlessly requested permission, whether it be with a cautious nudge of your nose with his or a squeeze of your fingers, and you granted the shift in angles, the slow repositioning for a position more comfortable. It hadn’t taken long for Eita to lose himself in you, wrapped up in this new, uncharted territory that you guided him through. He was more than satisfied with just kissing you, now hesitantly straddling his figure, at a comfortable, languid pace with his hands cradling your cheeks.

At some point, your hands had traveled to wound behind his neck, fingers lightly grasping the ash blond strands at the nape of his neck. When you subconsciously tightened your grip on them, Eita sharply inhaled, applying more pressure against your lips and causing you to lean back somewhat from the new force. He searched for stability by trailing his hands down to your waist, his hold tender yet unshakeable. Eita wasn’t planning on going any further, not when you weren’t completely sober to make a choice like that, but that didn’t stop him from scattering light kisses on your cheeks and jaw. Clearly, the alcohol had lowered some of his inhibitions, but not enough as his lips lingered over the span of your neck – his desire to mark your skin, to paint it with hickeys and signs of affection, would only unleash something darker inside of him, something that you weren’t quite ready for yet. Your heady breaths echoed in his ears and he felt you shake with temptation, your head subtly lolling to the side to allow him more room as a tacit gesture of consent.

Just one, he berated himself. Just one.

His nose ghosted over the skin from your jaw to your collarbone, catching the faint scent of what he assumed to be a mix of your body wash and natural scent. His senses found it comforting, grounding, and reminded him just how precious you were to him. You weren’t just a random girl at the bar he thought would be temporarily nice to make out with – you were (y/n), the girl who had watched over him and encouraged him during some of his most difficult times with a sport that was once his life, the manager who cared for him and his teammates to be nothing but their best, the person who the boys would unwittingly go to war for if anyone were to bring you trouble.

So he made that known, kissing the joint between your neck and shoulder, and reveled in the breathy gasp that escaped your throat. Little by little, he applied more pressure, preparing you for what he was about to do. His lips softly sucked on the skin, just enough so his teeth could graze it and nibble. Your hands were now fully entangled in the strands of his air, and as they tightened, Eita became more forceful and meaningful. You were entering a faint haze of ecstasy as he worked that one spot, determined to break the capillaries beneath your unmarked flesh and let the inevitable bruising bloom. He knew how beautiful you would look when he was done, and if he had your permission to, what a sight you would be with more littered on the rest of your body.

When he pulled back and deemed his work sufficient, he placed one last kiss on top of it before gazing back at you. Your eyes were half-lidded and hazy, traces of lust pouring into them as you struggled to even your breath. You knew in your bones that Eita was too much of a gentleman to go any further than this, and you were incredibly grateful. If something was going to happen between the two of you, you wanted to make sure that both of you were undoubtedly sober and fully aware of the decisions made.

Eita leaned his forehead against yours, stealing a few chaste kisses and rubbing his nose affectionately against your own. When he felt you were calm, steady, he made sure your legs were wound tight around his waist before standing from the couch with ease, arms holding you securely to his chest. His feet carried the two of you to your bathroom, placing you on the little counter space by your sink before unraveling your limbs from his figure.

Quietly, he handed over your toothbrush and squeezed out a small dollop of toothpaste onto it, repeating the actions with his own. The both of you tiredly brushed your teeth, somewhat thankful for the minty paste that would replace any lingering notions of the sake. But that hadn’t stopped you from staring at each other during the motions, only breaking the silence when foam escaped his lips and you couldn’t help but let out a tiny snicker. To which he only rolled his eyes dramatically, yet quickly held your gaze again as his own was filled with amusement and mirth, much akin to the look he had given you when you picked him up at the station earlier.

Minutes later, you two were tucked in your bed, facing each other in the dark. Eita tentatively searched for one of your hands, weaving them together once he completed this small quest of his. Little needed to be said as your blinks began to take on a slower pace, sometimes staying shut for a second or two before snapping back open. Your grip was loosening in his, but he felt he knew why you kept trying to get a good look at him, why you were unwilling to let sleep overtake you.

“Turn around,” he whispered. Too tired to question or fight back, you did as you were told, waiting with bated breath. Not long after you had done so, you felt the mattress closer to you divot just a bit more as an arm carefully snuck around your waist. You lifted your neck a bit to move your hair towards the side you faced so that Eita’s breathing wouldn’t be quite as obstructed, and he thanked you for the thoughtful action with a chaste press of his lips against your shoulder. The two of you adjusted slightly to ensure the position was equally comfortable.

Eita felt you considerably relax, almost falling back into his hold. His arm around your waist spoke volumes to you and part of him knew, part of him wanted to assure you that—

“I’ll be here in the morning,” he promised.

Because Eita knew that perhaps, you two needed to be reminded that you both weren’t alone, that there were people out there who desired both you and him; that the loneliness was just a blip in the timeline, and that eventually, your needs to be loved and appreciated wholeheartedly would be fulfilled someday by others than each other. You two could be good together, but the circumstances and other factors weren’t perfect. Maybe in another lifetime, Eita thought to himself.

And just as he suspected, that promise was all you needed to peacefully succumb to the dreamworld, with him following soon after.

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bedlamsbard · 4 years ago

Text

VERY SCATTERED thoughts on Star Wars: The High Republic: Light of the Jedi by Charles Soule -- not terribly spoilery, but probably there’s some if you don’t want to not be spoiled at all. I’m just going to copy and paste from last night’s Twitter thread(s), so this is definitely not in the top ten most coherent things I’ve ever written.

Under a cut for anyone who is avoiding spoilers.

Light of the Jedi is fine. Weirdly paced, probably a nightmare to read if you're going to read it over several days rather than in one day because of the size of the cast of characters (go back to doing those, Lucasfilm), very much a Western.

I will say this, as someone who came out of the EU: this book is REALLY jarring to read if you're familiar with the EU, especially the Old Republic era but quite a lot of the later-set stuff as well. It's essentially a reset, but there are things in there that are just ???? like, okay, we're going to change where bacta comes from, sure...? why...? hyperspace is weird and scary a mere two hundred years before TPM. why...?

I had this vibe from A Test of Courage (which I read first), but I'm getting it here too -- the Jedi seem more...Christian. It's not something I can put my finger on or point to anything really specific, but something about the approach feels far more Western. I know the promo and publicity for the High Republic series leaned hard into the Knights of the Round Table vibe and it's very...I mean, I can't argue? I'm not totally comfortable with it?

Coming out of the PT/TCW era as well, these Jedi seem more...what's the word I want. They're not necessarily different philosophically (except for the fact they read more Western-influenced than Eastern), but they're...smoother. That's not a great descriptor. The PT era Jedi feel scrappier, and I don't necessarily mean that just because we mostly see them in the midst of the Clone Wars. (I came out of the PT-era EU, not just the Clone Wars era.) Maybe this is the event that's going to scrape the Jedi down to bare bones and sharp-edged teeth. Maybe I missed something not having read the PT-era new canon. Again, like, I don't think they're philosophically different, they're hmm. less...desperate? and certainly part of that is that the PT Jedi are in their twilight, even before the Clone Wars, and the High Republic Jedi are at their height, but... *flips hands* I don't know.

also I'm going to be honest if I saw the words "we are all the Republic" one more time I was going to lose my mind. this is particularly noticeable because the government is apparently just the Chancellor and two ministers. you are telling me the Senate doesn't care? perhaps I am particularly sensitive to this because of the U.S. politics we are all suffering through but WHERE WAS THE SENATE.

the Nihil are whatever.

a lot of the design choices in this book feel very Rule of Cool, which going by the way that the designs seem to have been done may actually be true. (lightsabers...holstered?) (honestly I have my back up with how SW introduced them by basically going "ALL RIGHT COSPLAYERS HAVE AT." and I feel kind of weird about the fact they went for the blonde white woman as their main Jedi.) just a lot of this feels very "okay what if we do THIS because it's COOL" which like as a fic writer sure! fine! that's great! I'm tired.

I can't believe we have to live through three phases of this for at least the next three years.

anyway it's fine. the pacing in Light of the Jedi is fucked up -- mostly it's fine but then there's the back third and that's...not...great. especially if one is trying to apply timeline logic.

***

[this is a separate thread I wrote about the same book]

was not expecting the trend in new canon Star Wars to be authors being really weird about writing nonhumans but whatever like, they're doing it, but the descriptions are...weird. it's the less fucked up equivalent of "she breasted boobily"

this is something I think about a lot because I write from Twi'lek POVs all the time, so I am probably more sensitive to it than average

would you describe a human in this way? no? then don't do it. (I should specify because lolsob people, would you describe whatever your idea of a Standard Person is in this way? no? then don't do it. because people are also weird about describing, amongst others, women and POC.)

this sort of thing isn't, like, BAD but it also feels very...unnatural.

IDK, this is one of the Star Wars things that I'm unusually sensitive about.

the author is less weird about describing some of the other nonhumans so I think it's entirely possible he doesn't think his audience knows what the fuck a Nautolan is

um.

if you didn't already know what Togruta looked like this description would make zero sense so it's kind of just reading like the author going "Togruta are sexy, check."

(I swear I'm getting other stuff from this book too, it's just the description thing is what I'm attuned to so it's getting the most commentary from me.)

[subthread in response to a question I got about this sort of thing]

I don't know that there's a pattern -- I'm not doing much SW reading because I don't generally find it enjoyable anymore, but what I usually look for are 1) in a close third person POV how is the author having the character describe themselves?

and then, is that described in a way that feels natural? (thinking about Freed having Hera call her skin "jade-colored" or here "tentacles emerging from the back of his skull.") is there an ever-present awareness from within the character that they're not "human-standard"?

2) how much does the narrative exoticize their non-humanness -- Soh talking about Togruta in this thread is a very obvious example, even if that's not a Togruta describing themselves.

if it feels like the narrative is going "LOOK! THEY'RE NOT HUMAN!" and then lays out the ways how based on their physical characteristics. and what the narrator chooses to describe and not (skin color, lekku, horns, etc.)

there can also just be some REALLY weird phrasing around the way authors choose to describe nonhuman characters -- thinking about EKJ's Ahsoka talking about how "her head had grown again", that'a a phrase that lives rent-free in my brain.

also Soule has a weird quirk I've noticed where nonhuman characters are not described as being "a Twi'lek" or "a Tholothian" but as "Twi'lek" or "Tholothian" -- using the species as an adjective rather than a noun, which grates a little on me because it's not SW standard.

and then also the decision about what's being described sometimes just feels WEIRD in a Star Wars setting, and it's particularly glaring here because there are some species Soule's singling out to describe and some that are just allowed to exist.

*snaps fingers* and also if the author will identify various nonhumans as their species, but never specify that humans are humans, even while describing skin tone, eye color, etc. (I mention this because I JUST ran into this in the book.)

the human default is really jarring in this book even if there are a ton of nonhuman characters, because he tends to not specify that the humans are human. like, I'm more attuned to it than most of the audience for various reasons, but. *flips hand*

like, this is definitely a thing I'm unusually sensitive to because of Backbone, so. *shrug*

#bedlam reads star wars #bedlam reads the high republic

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mytardisisparked · 4 years ago

Note

Is there any fics out there where Obi-Wan/Satine gets their heartbroken by the other? I haven’t seen any for it, and I’m really in the mood for one of them to get their heartbroken for some reason besides what obviously happens

Well, I’d say the majority of Obitine fics that aren’t a fix-it fic where Satine asks Obi-Wan to stay or they end up getting together somehow are fics where they get their hearts broken, but I’m guessing you are looking for something where they are older? I can’t think of any fics that fit that description right now so allow me to fill that gap for you.

-------

“Dance with me.”

She turned to find him standing there, hand extended and an amiable smile on his lips. She really shouldn’t have accepted, but the night was drawing to a close and the crowds were dwindling so she took his hand before she could give it a second thought.

Within seconds, they were twirling across the dance floor, faces far closer than they should have been.

They didn’t speak as they stepped in time, choosing instead to savor the way their feet moved together perfectly. Years of debating one another had left the Jedi Master and the duchess attuned to each other in such a way that made dancing look easy and natural. They didn’t realize it, but thirty seconds into the dance, everyone else moved off the dance floor and stood back to watch them in awe.

Their breath quickened as the music changed paced and their steps changed with it. Twirls and dips became faster and faster. Their feet hardly touched the floor as they spun and glided as fast as they could. Finally, the music let out one last high note, and the duchess and the Jedi snapped to a stop, noses nearly touching as they breathed the same air.

They barely heard the room erupt in applause.

Without a word, Obi-Wan stepped back, keeping one of Satine’s hands in his, and tugged her gently towards a dark hallway.

They stood in the shadows for a moment, facing each other. Satine’s pulse quickened as, ever so slowly, Obi-Wan’s hand slipped up to faintly touch her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed, savoring the touch of a lover she had not known for nearly two decades. The hand finally cupped her cheek fully and she leaned into the touch, practically melting. She opened her eyes again to find Obi-Wan looking back at her with a question in his own. To respond, she tilted her head up and leaned forward invitingly.

Satine had always found that the great poets of old were lacking in their descriptions of kisses. There were simply no words that were numerous or powerful enough to describe how much kissing Obi-Wan Kenobi felt like home; every time their lips met she became absolutely certain that their souls were connected, their hearts were intertwined permanently, and there was nothing that could disconnect such a powerful bond. Kissing Obi-Wan Kenobi felt like receiving oxygen for the first time, her lungs heaving with the delicious taste of air she couldn’t live without. It felt like exploding in a ball of fantastic light. It felt like being pulled apart at the seams. It felt like burning.

It felt like something that was going to destroy her.

Suddenly, the rest of the world came crashing in around her, and Satine stepped back, ending all points of contact between them. She looked down at the floor so as to make this as painless as possible, but she had already seen Obi-Wan’s confused and hurt expression. He didn’t attempt to pull her back to him (she knew he never would, he was achingly polite), but his hands lingered in the space where she had once stood as if to try and feel her ghost.

“I’m sorry, Master Jedi, I should not have done that.” She ignored the hot sting of tears behind her eyes because, really, she should be over this childhood romance by now and duchesses of Mandalore don’t fraternize with unattachable Jedi knights.

“Satine-”

“No, it’s alright Obi-Wan, it was cruel of me to-” Her voice broke, the mask of the duchess cracking to reveal Satine beneath it. “I can’t do this,” she said, voice barely a whisper.

Obi-Wan’s hands fall to his sides with a sense of finality. “I would have left, you know.” She finally managed to pull her gaze up to look into his hurt face. “If you had asked, I would have left the Jedi Order for you.”

She had long suspected such a truth, but its admission feels like a knife to the heart anyway. “And that is exactly why I never asked.”

Now it was his turn to look like he had been stabbed. “What?”

She raised her chin, the little glimmer of outrage in his eyes is enough to spark her most protective shield: defiance. “I never asked you to leave because I knew you would say yes, I knew you would stay and I couldn’t let you do that. I couldn’t let you ruin your life and deprive the Jedi Order of so fine a member.”

Obi-Wan huffed. “I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions, Satine. My life is mine to ruin how I please.”

“And in the course of ruining yours you would have ruined mine as well.” Satine snapped. “If I had let you stay you would have been the only thing that mattered and that would not have been able to stand.” She sighed and stepped back again, needing more distance. “This is the very reason we can’t do this now; this, us, is like a gravity well and if we get sucked in we will never come back to our duties.”

“So maybe we forsake our duties.”

Satine’s eyes flashed back up to his. His words were bold, but his eyes tell her that he knew the truth; they cannot be together or their worlds would fall apart.

So instead of fighting him tooth and nail, Satine simply smiled sadly. “No, Obi-Wan. We can’t.”

The finality of her statement is enough to keep him from protesting further. Instead, he straightened and closed his eyes, siphoning away the tears that had been there a moment ago. When he opens his eyes, the warm man who had kissed her moments before was gone, replaced by the cool, procedural face of the general.

“My apologies, Your Grace, for my impropriety.”

His voice was cold enough to freeze her heart and shatter it.

With a small bow, he left her in the dark hallway, devoid of anything but her thoughts and quiet sobs. This was for the best, she knew, but that didn’t mean that every step Obi-Wan took away from her wasn’t like ripping herself apart from the inside out.

#Obitine #Obi-Wan #Satine #no beta read we die like men #star wars #the clone wars

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softowlhours · 4 years ago

Text

by the lakeside

bokuto koutarou(horror!AU)

it should’ve been the perfect summer getaway. you were both in need of some down time away from your busy careers. but things get a little eerie when there’s a voice in your head that isn’t yours and you find out that you’re not alone in that pristine white house on the hill.

genre: horror, angst, fluff if you squint

tw: descriptions of drowning, asphyxiation, strangulation. suggestive sexual situations.

a/n: i promise i’ll proofread this later and also write an epilogue but until then please enjoy this story it took me way longer than necessary to write. i’ve read it so many times that i don’t find it scary anymore. but i hope you do! :)

word count: 6k

my body feels like an empty shell sometimes, a carcass I am dragging around. when I look into the mirror I don’t recognise myself. i don’t recognise him, either.

∷ ∷ ∷ ∷

bokuto’s hair gleams silver in the glorious morning light. wind blows through your own strands as you zip past the lush green meadows. you could see the sheep dotted on the grassy planes like puffs of pure white clouds. far away, there stood giant mountains. their high peaks looked like they were breaching the baby blue ceiling of the sky. you only notice your gorgeous surroundings with half a mind, because your eyes keep trailing back to the man besides you. you admire his profile, the sharp slope of his nose, the chiselled cheek bones and jaw line. you zero in on the plush of his lips and it is then that you notice his teasing grin.

‘admiring the view?’ he asks.

‘mhmm. a sight for my sore eyes.’ and he truly is. your gaze drops a little lower. his toned chest peeks from where the buttons of his shirt have come undone. his biceps flex and strain against the fabric as he manoeuvres the steering wheel. he looks like a movie star, straight out of the golden age of film. the red vintage convertible he drives only adds on to your day dream. you can’t help but feel like a heroine starring in your own block buster romance. heat rises to the tip of his ears and the back of his neck at your shameless appraisal. bokuto notices the way lust is barely concealed on your face. he fucking loved the way you looked at him, like he was the guiding star you were always attuned to. the one for whom you’d always search for in an endless night sky.

‘your eyes are sore from staring at your computer screen all day everyday.’ he ignores your attempts at flirting, and instead addresses what has been eating away at his mind lately. he’s been worried about you. you often called him out for pushing himself to the point of breaking when it came to volleyball. but, you never noticed how you were inclined to do the same when it came to you own work; buried under papers and ink, day after day as your work ethic kept you confined to your study room. you being a best selling author, him a pro volleyball player; you truly were the power couple worthy of everyone’s envy and admiration, but your lives could get stressful at times.

‘kou, I’m sorry ‘m dragging you away from your routine. the game season starts in two months. you should be hitting some balls right now.’ you withdraw your hand, and he instantly misses your touch. you appear a little crestfallen as you opt to idly fiddle with the lace bordering your sundress.

‘hey,’ his voice is silky, tone slightly chastising. ‘don’t apologise. this was my idea anyways. we need some time away. from everything.’

‘you know that,’ he continues, ‘i’ll never be too busy for you, right? it makes me feel lonely when you just withdraw from me... shut me out.’ his face eyebrows furrow a little. ‘for you I’ll always carve out time.’

bokuto had a way with words that always left you stupefied. they weren’t embellished and gaudy, like yours. all you ever did was spin fairy tales. Yes they were beautiful, but they were also false. unlike you, he always spoke from his heart, and you wonder if that was why his sentiments without fail reached others.

‘oi- don’t fall asleep.’

‘i’m not sleeping!’ you snap out of your reverie. ‘i’m sorry i… never realised you’d feel that way’ puffing out a sigh, you lean back lazily on the leather seat. ‘i haven’t been feeling much inspiration lately, and when i do write i just hate every word of it.’

‘maybe I should retire,’ you muse. ‘never write a word again. let people remember me as the genius author I’m not.’

‘but you are a genius writer!’ bokuto insists. ‘give it a fifty years and they’ll be teaching your work as a part of the curriculum. i’ve never read anything better!’

‘that’s because you rarely read!’

‘i am a picky reader,’ bokuto shrugs, cocking an eyebrow as he looks at you haughtily. ‘so congratulations that your writing actually piqued my interest.’

snorting, you pinch his thigh.

∷ ∷ ∷ ∷

it’s almost evening by the time you drive past a small sleepy town. the few houses have their curtains drawn. there’s a small supermarket and a polyclinic but you notice how the streets are mainly empty, save for a couple of children who play seven tiles on the roadside. fifteen minutes and more grassy meadows and sheep later, you arrive at what looks like the edge of the world. surely you’re being a little dramatic calling it that, but the road winds up the gentle slope of a hill and on top of it sits a pristine white house. bokuto pulls up the car in front of massive wrought iron gates, a chain holds it shut.

‘okay, but when nori said ‘vacation home’, this is not what I had in mind. Is he actually the heir to a conglomerate or something?’ you observe, definitely appalled.

‘uh- knowing his stingy ass, i’m not sure?’ bokuto sounds and looks puzzled as well, so you know he wasn’t expecting it either. he reconfirms the address konoha had messaged him. ‘do we climb the gates? because he never gave me a key or anything. he said the place has a caretaker who’d-’

‘how can I help?’

your heart leaps to your throat, and both you and bokuto snap your heads to your left to look at a man who stands on bokuto’s side of the car. neither of you had seen him approaching and it was as if he were a magician, materialising out of thin air. old, sinewy and dressed sharply in a suit, he’s hunching to be at your eye levels. upon closer look the fabric of his clothes looked worn out and they fray at the edges. his hair is slicked back and he wears gold rimmed spectacles, its lenses the shape of half moons. his smile is serene, demeanour dignified but there’s shrewdness in his tone.

‘um- hi.’ bokuto greets recovering first. ‘i am konoha’s friend. i assume you’ve been expecting us?’

a beat passes.

‘indeed. allow me to show you around.’

bokuto parks the car under a shed close to the gates and you walk down the stretch of the garden. it is immaculately kept, and roses of all colours bloom neatly in rows. a giant sycamore tree stands close to the house, its branches brushing the roof. when you stand on the porch of the house the gate seems miles away. bokuto wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close to his side. he sneaks a soft kiss under your left ear as the caretaker opens up the door for you.

the inside of the house is splendidly furnished and it leaves you awestruck. simple but gorgeous, a modern castle of sorts. a cream colored leather sofa sits in the centre of the living room, the rug in front of it is white and fluffy. There is a box television- the kinds popular decades ago, and you wonder if it actually works or if it’s just for show. the chandelier above is a million crystals and an open kitchen makes up the far end of the living room. a stair case winds its way up. but, what truly catches your eye are the massive french doors which open up to the stretch of a green lawn. calling it a backyard would be a bit inadequate; for the trimmed grass meets the surface of a great lake, its water like molten lava reflecting the evening sky. you can see the outline of ducks waddling away, probably on their way home. the lake stretches out for almost a mile and after that you see nothing but the thicket of the woods. it is almost the end of july, so while the days are warm, the temperatures tend to dip quite a bit at night. you shiver a little and snuggle closer into bokuto’s side. the caretaker, in his monotonous voice, explains to you how your room shall be upstairs, the one to the right. there were four other rooms which were mostly empty and locked for the sake of easy maintenance. you tune him out when he moves on to the instructions regarding the heating and locking systems.

you’re entranced by the house, and standing there in its magnanimity you feel like you’ve been drawn into a picture book. you can imagine breakfasts every morning on the front porch. afternoons spent lolling on the grass besides the lake. you would keep a vase filled with freshly cut roses from the garden, in the centre of the kitchen table. spend the nights sitting in front of the fire place when winter laid its thick blanket of white snow outside. your high flying careers felt like a distant dream. your laptop back home could collect all the dust it wanted to. you could just stay here forever wrapped up in each others arms.

i’m lonely. i hate how you’re always away from home because of volleyball.

bokuto notices your distant look , the slightest way your lips are set in a grimace. it tugs on his heartstrings. makes it difficult for him to breathe.

bringing his mouth close to your ear, he whispers your name bringing you out of your head. you blink, biting back the ugly realisation that had just intruded your brain. you had never felt that way before, you had forced yourself not to. it was long ago when you had decided that you’d never make him choose between you and volleyball. or maybe that loneliness was something you’d always felt. but because you were afraid of it; you had hidden it under your skin, in between your bones.

if i could, i’d steal you away and keep you all to myself. in a cage just for me and you.

too afraid that he’ll somehow read your mind, you step away from him, disoriented by the venomous voice of your subconscious as you look around for the old man.

‘he left while you were zoning out, princess. said he’s going home.’ he pulls your back against his chest, long fingers begin snaking up a well known trail up your thighs. your cute little sundress does little to stop him. ‘he’ll be back by noon tomorrow, to tend to the garden and all that.’ bokuto speaks in between the kisses he’s placing along the side of your neck. ‘apparently, he lives in that town we drove by earlier.’

‘mhmm.’

‘want to live in a house like this someday.’ he asks you, his voice hushed. you rest your head back on his chest, as love and lust pools in your stomach and clouds your thoughts.

i’m scared someday you’ll leave me behind.

“me. you. maybe a dog. maybe… children?” he continues and your eyes widen at that.

‘you want all that?’

‘with you? yes I want everything. i’ll take everything that you can give me.’

liar.

you turn around and pull bokuto into a heated kiss. his chapped lips meld into yours and your teeth clack a little from the suddenness of your movement. by now it is completely dark outside and the living room is dimly lit by a lamp. bokuto seems unaware, too lost in you to be notice space and time. but, a weird sensation surrounds you. you feel the whisper of a cool breeze, a murmur disturbing the stillness of the house. with one hand, bokuto cups your behind. the fingers of his other rake through your hair. it’s a buzz now, like a thousand bees hovering over your heads. you feel dazed, you’re needy, you’re confused.

there’s someone else here. the two of you are not alone.

‘ow,’ you yelp in pain.

bokuto jumps away from you, but his hands are badly tangled in your hair.

‘I told you to tie your hair in the car!’ he is laughing. ‘it’s a nest in here!’

the buzzing dies down. the silence that follows is deafening. you wonder if you’re delusional with the lack of sleep.

as bokuto carefully weaves his fingers out he places a chaste kiss on the little crease in between your eyebrows. he finds you so cute, it physically hurts him.

‘don’t worry, babygirl,’ his voice drops a few octaves. ‘windswept looks sexy on you.’

∷ ∷ ∷ ∷

later that night as you are lie under the drapes and canopies, you notice how the bedroom is much like the rest of the house- fit for royalty. bokuto snores softly, but you lie awake with your head on his chest. his heartbeat is a mind-numbing rhythm. a thin sheet of sweat covers your bodies and you try to ignore the wetness in between your legs. you should probably change the sheets as well, but your body refuses to move and you don’t know where to find any new ones. sleep evades you so you let Bokuto’s question roll around in your mind. a forever with him. of course you would say yes. there was nothing more that you wanted than that. but the dread from earlier which you had managed to keep at bay with lust, slowly begins to resettle in the pit of your stomach.

he promises you an eternity now, but he’ll leave you behind soon.

you somehow clamber out of bed, making sure not to awaken bokuto. picking up his shirt from where it lies on floor, you put it on. the bedroom has identical doors from the living room, made of glass, and they open onto a small balcony. you draw open the lacey curtains and step out into the chilly night air. the sight that awaits you makes you gasp. a fine mist rolls over the water, but the lake itself is still. its surface is like taut cellophane. beyond the lake where the woods begin, it is pitch black darkness and you cannot tell where the woods meet the moonless sky. it’s a new moon night, but where you expect to see the stars is an empty hollowness. its eerily silent. too silent. no insects trill. no wind blows. you stare intently into the water for so long that you swear you see something lurking just underneath its surface. the mist that hovers slowly inches towards the house, coiling like endless bony fingers.

that pool of velvety darkness, i wonder what it’d feel like against my skin.

come to me then. feel it for yourself. your voice, no, her voice purrs.

you whirl around to see bokuto. he’s standing a feet away from you, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

‘whoah! easy,’ bokuto exclaims, surprised by your jumpiness. no way it had been him who had spoken moments ago. ‘what are you doing outside?’ he asks. ‘i nearly got a heart attack when I saw someone standing out here.’

you look back towards the lake, and you’re utterly confused. the mist seems to have instantly vanished. you can even hear the water now, softly undulating. it appears akin to a creased sheet of silk.

had you been hallucinating? dreaming with your eyes open?

you fight down the growing panic and instead walk over to him, squishing his cheeks. you softly kiss his pout. ‘aww. baby’s scared?’ you coo.

he grumbles something about you catching a cold but tugs you inside and you decide to let it all go. you’re tired and tomorrow will be a new day.

had you turned around, you’d notice how the stars were glittering like cold hard gems in the night sky.

∷ ∷ ∷ ∷

you were pleasantly lazing about in the sun. the lake was a glittering blue and the woods looked benign during the day. they weren’t as dense as they appeared to be in the absence of light. from where you lay, the house looks like an entity of its own. imposing and regal. bokuto is dressed casually in a t-shirt and sweatpants as he plays around witha volleyball, tossing and spiking it all by his lonely self. you didn’t remember seeing him pack a volleyball, but then again somehow he always seemed to miraculously have a one at his disposal. today, he hasn’t gelled his hair up in its usual style, so it flops onto his forehead in a way you wished he’d leave it more often.

‘y/n! nice receive!’ he hollers at you.

he spikes the ball aiming straight for your stomach and you somehow manage to block his assault. thank god he hadn’t used a quarter of the strength he usually puts into his spikes.

your strong and annoying man.

‘you trying to murder me or what?’

he pulls you up to your feet. ‘i’ll be teaching you how to spike, drama queen. it’s insane how you’ve been with me for all these years and haven’t learnt a thing or two about volleyball. people would die for a one on one training session with me.’ he brags as he fetches the ball from where it had rolled off to.

you try to copy his motions, but what he can effortlessly pull off is an impossible feat for you. you send the ball upwards and jump as you try to match your timing to spike it. but before you can hit the ball it lands on your head.

bokuto is losing his shit, doubling over with laughter. and you try to look angry but end up giggling with him.

‘i give up!’ you complain. plus my boobs jiggle since i’m not wearing a sports bra,’

‘babe, thats kinda the point!’ he beams.

a perfect spike lands on his face.

‘owww, that’s foul play, y/n! ’ he yells. rubbing his nose, he walks over to you.

‘you should be punished!’ he scolds you, but places a kiss on your temple. his hands wander downwards to unzip your dress. he lets it fall to the ground. you know where this is headed. you think he’s going to kiss you so you close your eyes and lean towards him but before you can react, he’s bending down and suddenly you’re being lifted. he has you over his shoulders and your peals of laughter warm his heart. he hadn’t heard that sound in a while.

bokuto marches straight into the lake and dumps you in. the water is cool and refreshing, just as you had imagined it. it’s shallow enough so you’re chest deep in the water when your feet are planted at the bottom. his body glistens with dampness, hair a floppy wet mess. he was so beautiful, that even though it was irrational you felt a little bit shy. you’re splashing each other with water, the atmosphere’s light and bubbly with amusement. bokuto tries to catch you but you slip out of his reach. he is being his loud and dramatic self as he falls face down into the water, complaining as he comes up with his eyes screwed shut.

‘i swear i’d rather be blinded by your beauty than this water.’

you shake you head, feigning disdain and then you’re swimming away from him, towards the safety of the house. it must almost be noon, and you vaguely remember its time for the care taker to come around. you did not want to be seen in your wet underwear. bokuto calls out to you, apologising. there is water in your ears, it laps all around you as you swim. it dulls all sound and every other sense until the only thing you hear is your thumping heart. when you come up for air, you can see the blue sky, when your face is in the water you can see the stones and pebbles littering the bottom.

but, when you come up for air again, the sky is overcast. laden with dense gray clouds.

the water runs icy, lead flows through your veins. your body is sinking like a ship. it feels like you’re trying to move through viscous jelly. when you try to pull up for air you cannot break through, the surface traps you like its the cellophane you remember seeing the night before. a tight grip on your waist, abruptly pulls you under. your flailing hands try to grasp at nothing in particular. you wonder if its bokuto just messing around, but you know it isn’t. you don’t feel his presence anywhere. your fingers suddenly entangle into something. your eyes burn when you try to open them and look. jet black strands of hair, a bone white face, a mouth that is open like a gaping wound. you scream and nothing but gurgles and air bubbles escape you. you try to pull back but your hands are stuck in the weedlike hair. Funny you think of the evening before, when bokuto’s fingers had entangled in your messy hair the same way.

‘kou…koutaro!’ you try calling for him. you hear your disembodied voice, feel the water flood your mouth, your nose. but you feel all alone with that woman straight out of nightmares. fear has you in its grip, your minds a mush.

you hate him so damn much. you hate him, you hate him, you HATE him. a voice repeats the same words in your head. you wonder if it sounds like your own or someone else’s. you cannot tell the two apart.

you feel a hand wrap around your arm, its large and warm and it feels like home. as it drags you out of the water the ashen face seems to quiver and distort. her eyes flicker open. they roll in their sockets but when they fixate on you, you see eyes just like your own. but they are transparent like marbles; burning with betrayal and accusation.

∷ ∷ ∷ ∷

you wake up with a start to screams piercing the air. they are shrill and blood curdling. your hands are on your ears as you try to block out the sound but it only gets louder. it takes you a moment to realise that the screaming had been you. bokuto holds you in his arms, you can feel him shaking underneath your palms that grapple at his back.

he’s crying.

no! why is your bokuto crying? you pull away a little just enough to look at him, but the way his features are twisted in melancholy punctures a hole through your heart.

‘y/n, babe… babe,’ his lips quiver stealing away speech but he forces himself to speak. ‘ i looked everywhere in the water but I couldn’t find you. you were swimming and then you just stopped. i thought you were fooling around but you were down there for too long. so i come over but... I couldn’t see you anywhere at first. i panicked! holy shit... i was panicking.’ he shifts away from you, an arms length away. leaning back on the sofa, he stares up at the ceiling. ‘You weren’t even struggling, just stopped moving. Do you remember what happened?’ bokuto drags a hand down his face. he’s visibly distressed.

‘i don’t know what happened,’ you croack. ‘it felt like I was stuck. my feet wouldn’t come lose. as if someone was there with me in the water, holding me down…’ a sob escapes you.

bokuto pales a little at your description. but there had been no one but the two of you in the water. hell he hadn’t even seen any fishes.

he had pulled you under in the first place hadn’t he. there’s no one here but the two of you.

you remember not being alone in the water. you remember the heaviness. but nothing else.

bokuto opens his mouth to say something, but you cannot concentrate. the urge is too strong. before you can think, before you can answer. you are bending over and puking your guts out.

∷ ∷ ∷ ∷

you spend the rest of the day, clinging to bokuto. and he doesn’t mind. he seems to be craving that constant feeling of your skin on his. something to remind him that you were okay, that you were here now. he makes his way around the kitchen with you stuck to him like a little koala.

“sit down on that chair just for a minute, y/n. i can’t find the plates!” he tries to loosen your chokehold on him but you only tighten it and bokuto booms out a laugh.

‘i swear you’re lucky you’re cute.”

‘just consider this weight training.’

bokuto had put together a light meal. you reckoned you’d be unable to stomach anything too heavy.

‘we were supposed to be having fun. i feel like i’ve ruined everything.’ you mumble gloomily. you’re sitting on the chairs you pulled up around the kitchen island. a make shift dining table.

‘it’s okay. its enough to just be together.’

‘oh no been away from you for a five whole minutes.’ your expression is of mock worry as you rush over onto his lap. you immediately bury your head in the crook of his neck, his familiar scent calms you down. he chuckles at your antics.

‘do you think we can just go home?’ you ask apprehensively, still feeling bad about having spoilt your perfect little getaway. ‘i don’t feel like staying here anymore.’

‘sure, baby girl .’ bokuto replies in a heartbeat, and you wonder if he feels the same unease in remaining here any longer.

‘we can leave tomorrow morning.’ he suggests. ‘it might be a bit too late to leave now. plus, caretaker-san didn’t even show up today.’

‘is it okay to just leave?,’ you ask.

from where bokuto sits on the dining table in the kitchen, he can see the doors in the living room that open up to the porch. it’s around three in the afternoon. the weather was beginning to turn awfully gloomy.

clouds slowly fill the sky eclisping the sun that had shined all day. it leaves everything in shades of gray.

∷ ∷ ∷ ∷

you wake up alone in bed. the remnants of an eerie dream still lingers in your mind. you had been combing your hair, which was unusually thick, dark and long. you kept brushing the silky smooth strands, on and on and on, until they started coming loose in your hands. shuddering as you recall it, you turn around to see the wall clock read nine p.m. where was kou? at some point you had fallen asleep although you did not remember coming upstairs to the bedroom. he must’ve carried you from where you and him had been lying on the sofa downstairs, idly chatting.

your body is still heavy with exhaustion but you force yourself to sit up. hearing the water running in the bathroom, you call out to bokuto. ‘kou?’ you pad your way over to the bathroom. when you open the door there is no one inside. water drips from from a leaky tap into an empty bath tub. strange. where had the sound been coming from then?

you find yourself mesmerised by your reflection in the mirror right across from you. when you step inside the bathroom, the tiles are dry and frigid underneath your feet. the lights are off, however, the bathroom is faintly lit up by the light filtering in from the frosted windows. the bags under your eyes are dark and puffy, your lips look ashen. you look like you had lost a tonne of weight over the span of the past few hours. tracing a finger along the outline of your reflection, you notice how your eyes were a forlorn abyss. hollow like the dead.

mine. stay with me. don’t leave me alone. a voice whispers to you and you listen, enchanted.

you see the corners of your lips quirk up in your reflection. your expression twists into that of deranged happiness.

so, you’ll stay?

you don’t feel the smile on your face.

you’re backing away slowly. a scream dies in your throat.

that isn’t you. it’s her.

you’re running full speed out of the bathroom and you make it just in time as the door slams shuts behind you. the edge of your thin white slip gets caught in between but you yank it loose with enough force. bursting out of the room like a bat out of hell you’re hurtling downstairs. you have to look for bokuto. you must leave. now!

you’re me, i am you. he doesn’t love you, so just stay with me. I’m lonely.

you try to call out to bokuto but you cannot find your voice.

and then you see him. sitting on the sofa. the relief you feel is momentary. the old television is on, and the screen is grainy with static but bokuto’s eyes are intent on it. he’s still as if he were carved out of stone. he doesn’t acknowledge your presence just keeps staring ahead with an owlish gaze. you place a shaky hand on his shoulder and he finally turns to look at you.

his eyes that usually are like pools of golden honey are dark and murky like cheap kerosene. his features are sharper, more cunning. a devil in your lover’s skin. the mist outside thickens, appearing as if they were pale white walls surrounding the house.

i told you to just stay with me. you should’ve stayed with me in that cool dark water.

he doesn’t love you, i do.

suddenly bokuto is stalking towards you, his movements hypnotic like that of a panther, sinuously fluid, predatory. a feral look glints in those foreign eyes. he slams you against the nearest wall, his hands tightening over your neck. your head meets the hard surface with a thud. those large arms that have always felt like home suddenly feel empty and cold like a prison cell.

you’re just a prisoner in his cage. he doesn’t love you like I will.

black spots fill your vision, as your air supply is slowly being cut off. ‘kou- please don’t.’ you whimper. a flicker of recognition flashes through those eyes, but the grip around your neck only tightens. ‘kou-’ you call again softly. tears fall freely down your face. your hands go limp by your sides and in the process you knock over a vase that had been on table besides you. it falls to the marble floor with an obnoxious crash. the ceramic splinters into a hundred pieces. bokuto’s eyes widen and the darkness from his face lifts. it is as if a thick patch of clouds obscuring the moon had drifted past, letting its pure light fall to the earth once again. he’s your bokuto once again.

horror struck he lets go of your neck and catches a glimpse of the angry red fingerprints left behind like a morbid necklace. you collapse to the ground.

a door bangs shut somewhere in the house, startling you both. bokuto is about to crouch down next to you when suddenly the volume of the television is cranked up. the harsh static sound grates your ears, like a drawn out growl. there’s thumping coming from behind every surface of the house- the walls, the floors, the ceilings. every door, every window swings open only to shut back with a bang, over and over until shards of broken glass lie like a carpet all over the floor. the house is alive with the breath of countless souls that live in its every crack and crevice. you both look on with horror as heavy mist begins to pour into the house. bokuto’s teeth chatter with fear, and he tries to get you to stand. he follows your gaze which is fixed to where your bedroom had been. and he sees it then. on the door which opens into the room, there’s a shadow of a woman. he can discern the long straight hair which she combs on and on and on.

‘f-fuck!’ he spits.

he harshly pulls you over his shoulders but transfixed you crane up your neck to continue looking at the shadow. hastily he manages to grab the keys which he had hung on a hook by the main door. the shadow grows darker, more defined as if whoever it belonged to was coming closer. he feels you struggling and you scream to be let down.the main door to the house is already open so with one last glance at the chaos behind, you are both bolting out of the house.

‘y/n, run! to the car. hurry, hurry, hurry!’ he shuts the door, hoping it would buy you some time. he’s not really sure what he’d just seen or what any of it meant. but thinking would come later. he grabs your hand as you start the mad dash across the front garden. you notice despite your compromised vision due to the mist, how the roses look wilted. the grounds gooey and wet underneath, and your feet sink into the soft mud making movement sluggish. but you don’t stop. moments later, the door behind you flings open with enough force that it comes loose from its hinges. the whole house seems to be angry.

come back here.

don’t leave me alone.

an overgrown root coils around your calf and yanks you back. your hand slips out of bokuto’s and he turns around, horrified, to see you being dragged into the ground. like you were falling into quicksand.

‘hold on to my arm,’ bokuto bellows, ‘and just don’t. let. go!’

the circulation in your leg is being cut off and you cry in pain. you can feel the disgusting way the soft earth keeps parting further to let you in. you want to let go, give in to the struggle. maybe it’d be better to just lie buried here, decomposing till you forget whats fear, whats pain.

your name is rolling off bokuto’s tongue like a chant. his muscles burn with strain. the sweat and slick makes his grip on you weak and he notices how you’re letting go. he reads the resignations on your face. but why are you letting go? why are you trying to leaving him alone?

bokuto loses his footing and falls backwards and almost loses you, but he manages to interlock your fingers. he’s grunting with effort, and roars with frustration when it doesn’t seem to be working. it is then when you see the blood covering his feet, the glass splinters buried deep into his soles. in your haste to get away you never noticed how he had walked all over the shards with you over his shoulder. the ache in your heart swells. you know he’d never leave you behind. it was the two of you, or none of you who’d make it alive out of here.

the thought of bokuto buried deep into the ground, lips blue and crusted with mud gives you a renewed conviction. with the last spurts of energy you hold tight onto bokuto’s arm with one hand. the other digs into where you find soft but solid ground. you attempt to claw your way out and fight the drag of the noose around you ankle that tries to pull you in the opposite direction. away from bokuto. bokuto is inching backwards, his voice hoarse with all that screaming as he does his utmost to haul you out.

rain begins to pour in heavy cascades even though there hadn’t been a single cloud in the obsidian sky. and suddenly you feel earth’s hold on you go slack. bokuto and your efforts come to fruition as your foot comes loose and you tumble straight on top of bokuto’s body. but its too early to celebrate. a loud thunderclap spurs you both into action and you run and run, fighting the burn in your lungs until you reach the car. bokuto, is grateful, infinitely grateful that the keys had remained in his pockets during that struggle. he hands you the keys and with no time to waste you’re running to the car, afraid that something inauspicious might happen again if you didn’t hurry. bokuto notices with relief that the iron gates are not chained shut like they had been upon your arrival, and with some effort he swings them open. bokuto clambers into the passenger seat and you floor the gas as you drive straight out of the gates, into a calm quiet night.

it takes you a moment to notice that the rain had stopped.

∷ ∷ ∷ ∷

the two of you are covered in dirt, in blood. absolutely shattered with exhaustion. bokuto finally feels the pain that had been dampened by adreneline. it now ignites like an inferno. he almost tears his lip trying to bite back a whimper. in the rear view mirror, you catch a glimpse of the house. it looks regal and imposing, as it had when you’d first arrived. you can see the dimly lit bedroom, the curtains billowing gently in a slight breeze. the glass on the doors is intact. the garden is immaculate once again and you can see patches of soft grass spread out where the mud had almost eaten you up alive just a few moments ago. a shaky laugh escapes Bokuto, and before you know it, feeling delirious, you’re laughing with him.

bokuto’s phone rings and the sound cuts short your hysteria. with some effort he retrieves it from the dashboard where he’d left it two days ago. he had planned on not letting anything distract him from you on this short getaway. he puts it on loudspeaker.

‘they picked up!’ you hear Konoha say to someone and the collective sighs of relief are audible.

‘dude, where have you both been? we’ve been calling you all day. ms. nakamura told me that you never made it to my vacation home?’

‘ms. nakamura?’ bokuto rasps.

‘yeah, the caretaker I told you about?’

‘the caretaker was a man!’ you snatch the phone with from bokuto with one hand while other remains on the steering wheel. you’re yelling at the receiver like a mad woman. ‘we came to your villa, but that man opened the gates. listen, there’s something wrong with the house and lake behind it is-’

‘what lake? there are only corn fields behind my house. which is, by the way, a traditional japanese one. where the fuck have you both been?!’

you and bokuto look at each other in confusion, and you hit the brakes. you glance back at the house which is now far, far away. if you squint your eyes you can see the outline of a man at the gates. the lamp in his hand glows golden like a distant star.

a woman’s shadow is dark and lonely against the delicate lace of the bedroom’s curtains.

#bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou #bokuto #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq!!#hq #haikyuu angst #bokuto angst #bokuto fluff #bokuto imagines #hq scenarios #hq imagines #haikyuu fluff

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clumsyclifford · 4 years ago

Text

don’t need money, don’t need sleep (just need your pretty face)

hi !!!!! some jalex fluff for you all :)

back when i was looking to start writing some jalex i requested prompts from my friends and @tirednotflirting gave me three from this list: 14, 23, and 82. sam i am sorry it took me so long to get this done (and that it’s not like, my best work or anything) but i am treating this like a prompt fic even though you never actually sent the prompt to my inbox so here it is as its own post. how exciting

title is from bottle and a beat by all time low god that song really did not deserve to be a b-side have i mentioned i love all time low?? was that evident?? anyway. onward

read it here on ao3

Jack yawns. “I’m sleepy.”

“Then go to sleep, you dolt,” Alex says, although it’s dripping with fondness and he’s sure Jack can tell, even over Skype.

“No,” Jack says. “Talking to you.”

“We can talk tomorrow,” Alex says logically. “I’ll be home tomorrow.”

“Mm, that’s too long,” Jack says, and then yawns again. “Alex,” he says, stretching out the vowel, “I’m tired. ” He closes his eyes and buries his head on his pillow. The angle of his camera really should be unflattering, but Alex is so in love, and he misses falling asleep with Jack so much, that even getting to see his almost-asleep face is feeding a part of him.

“You want me to sing you something?” Alex asks. Jack smiles, or at least the visible half of his face does.

“Just tell me about your day,” he says. His voice is barely audible and his lips hardly move; he’s clearly just on the verge of falling asleep completely. Alex is concerned for his phone battery.

“I’ve told you about my day already,” he says.

“Tell me again. I like to hear your voice.”

They’re so ridiculous, Alex realizes. They are the shitty rom-com couples that people point at to say look how unrealistic that is. Nobody acts like that in real life. But Alex is happy with Jack, happier than he’s ever been, and he thinks that’s more than worth the cheesy tropes.

“Alright,” Alex says. He settles back against the hotel pillows. They’re too soft; if Jack were here he’d have a lot of choice words about that. Jack’s firm anti-soft-pillow stance has taken over their bed — all of their pillows are relatively unyielding. Yet another way that Jack has made himself a permanent fixture in Alex’s life. God, Alex loves him. “Well, I woke up at the hell hour of five in the morning, and then I tried to Google Maps my way to the radio station, which didn’t work, and I ended up kind of lost. So then I called Rian, because obviously I didn’t want Bryan to know I got lost, and Rian just laughed at me, and then together we figured it out — there are two places here with the same address, like, one is the radio station and the other is, like, a convenience store, so I don’t know what kind of planning went into that? Anyway, the radio promo stuff was fine, and then I went and got coffee and called my boyfriend, except he didn’t pick up because he was still asleep, and I should have probably known better than to try and call, so I left him a really cute message that I bet he still hasn’t listened to.”

Alex pauses, watches the screen. Jack’s breathing is even. He’s never been the kind of person who could fall asleep right away, but now must be an exception, or maybe he’s more tired than usual, because he’s already dropped off, and his phone is moving irregularly until it finally slips out of Jack’s grasp and the screen goes dark, face-down on the bed. Alex smiles. “And then I had a boring day and then I Skyped my boyfriend and he had the audacity to fall asleep while I was in the middle of talking to him,” he concludes. “And I love you, and I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Jack doesn’t reply, so Alex resolves to remind him tomorrow. Maybe without calling him sweetheart, though. Jack doesn’t take kindly to nicknames unless they’re grossly unrealistic (sugarplum, and such).

For the moment, though, Alex listens to Jack breathe slowly, and then he hangs up the call, sets his phone aside, and pulls the covers over himself. Sleeping alone is one of Alex’s least favorite things, but he’s lulled to sleep by the promise of not having to do it again tomorrow night.

“Hi,” Jack breathes, throwing his arms around Alex’s neck. Alex gives a little, wrapping his arms around Jack’s waist and squeezing tight.

“Hi. I missed you.”

“I missed you,” Jack echoes. “More. Fuck, it’s good to hear your voice.”

Alex laughs. “You heard my voice yesterday.”

“Not like this,” Jack says, bringing his hands reverently to Alex’s throat like he wants to feel the way it moves when Alex talks. “It’s so much better in person.”

“That’s rude,” Alex says. “You listen to my voice on recordings all the time. Are you saying I’m worse on albums than I am live?”

“Whatever,” Jack says, drawing Alex into a kiss. He’s managed to suspiciously sidestep the question — Alex will have to interrogate him further later on — but for now he just hugs Jack close. Yet another cheesy rom-com trope: kissing on the doorstep.

It makes Alex chuckle, so it might do it for Jack too. Alex pulls away. “They should make a Hallmark movie about us.”

“Fuck, I’d love that,” Jack says, grinning and stealing another kiss off Alex’s lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Hallmark movie, but I’d watch it if you were in it. Or if I was in it, honestly.”

“I don’t think they’d cast us as ourselves.” Their acting careers begin and end with the “Something’s Gotta Give” music video. “And I would want to be played by Jason Statham.”

“Jason Statham? Why the fuck?”

It had really just been the first name to come to mind, so Alex shrugs. “Handsome and British?”

Jack snorts. “I want to be played by Brad Pitt then.”

“What the fuck do you and Brad Pitt have in common?”

“Uh, excuse me? We’re both sexy and have cult followings.”

Alex laughs, loud. “Got me there.” It makes Jack smile indulgently, all pleased like he’d gotten precisely the reaction he’d wanted, and Alex loves him so much it threatens the break the seams holding his heart together and just flood him. It might already have done.

“Okay, it’s cold,” Jack says. “You’re letting all the fucking air in, you asshole.”

“You can’t be nice for more than one minute.” Alex edges past Jack into the house. It’s true they’re letting the cold night air inside, but if Jack’s going to be a shithead then two can play that game.

“It’s late and I’m tired,” Jack whines as they walk together to the bedroom. Alex drops his bag on the floor. He can unpack it later. Tomorrow, or the day after, or next week — definitely at some point. Maybe he can harass Jack into unpacking it for him. Bribe him with sexual favors or a fancy dinner or something.

“Babe, you’re preaching to the choir,” Alex says. He’s exhausted. Travel takes it out of him, and the prospect of curling up with Jack, cold feet pressed against calves under the warmth of the blanket, is so appealing it almost makes Alex cry. Putting on a silly affectation, he says, “Prepare the bed, monsieur, and I shall join you presently.”

“Ah, yes,” Jack says, rolling with it — because he’s the best and weirdest boyfriend ever, and so perfect for Alex — with an exaggerated bow. He jumps into bed, already pajama-clad in boxers and one of Alex’s shirts, kicking down the covers so they’re far back enough for Alex to slip underneath. In a French accent, he says, “Le bed is prepared, monsieur Gaskarth.”

“Merci,” Alex says, which is about the extent of his French knowledge. Carelessly discarding his travel clothes, he grabs a comfier shirt and pulls it on. Then he clambers into bed, Jack’s arm settling comfortably over his shoulders. Even more than their reunion hug/kiss/debate at the door, lying down with Jack in their bed at home restores in Alex a sense of peace that he only finds here. He wishes it existed in words instead of just feelings, but it doesn’t. Alex would know; he’s tried, hundreds of times, to write it down, has filled pages with efforts to find an adequate description, but there’s nothing like the feeling. Nothing like just being at home with Jack, redundant though that is.

(If it’s Jack, it’s home. But it’s nice to have a place where they can mutually agree to be at home with each other.)

“I missed this,” Jack murmurs, leaning his head onto Alex’s shoulder as Alex shifts to accommodate him. “Before you say it, I know you were only away for a day, but I can still miss it.”

“I was going to say I missed you too,” Alex says. “But now that you’ve mentioned it, Jack, come on. I was only gone for a day. Don’t get clingy.”

Jack bites Alex’s shoulder and Alex laughs. “You’re an asshole.”

“I know.”

“I’m joking,” Jack adds, yawning.

Alex reaches across Jack’s lap to grab his hand. It’s a little awkward, holding Jack’s left hand with his own, but they make it work. “Okay. Tell me about your day. We didn’t talk all day because I was traveling.”

Jack hums. “Seriously, now?”

“I talked you to sleep last night,” Alex protests. “It’s only fair.”

“So you don’t even want to know about my day? You’re just going to fall asleep?”

Alex shakes his head as Jack straightens up in mock-indignance. “Come on,” he entreats Jack, shuffling lower to curl up against him. Jack’s not small in most ways, because he’s the tallest in the band, and his personality fills every room like a gas, reaching the corners no matter how far they are. But he’s so skinny, so many lean lines, that it should be more difficult to cuddle up to him. Still, Alex finds it surpassingly easy. He rests his head against Jack’s chest, immediately attuned to the steady beat of his heart. When the foundations of Alex’s world are crumbling to the ground, when he’s grasping at straws or gasping for air, he can always sink an anchor into Jack’s heartbeat.

Objectively, it’s just a ba-bump rhythm like any other, but it’s music to Alex, and music has always been his driving force.

“Fine,” Jack huffs, curling his fingers into the cotton of Alex’s shirt. Alex burrows into him, closing his eyes, sliding his legs between Jack’s under the covers and slinging one arm over Jack’s stomach. “But it wasn’t that exciting. Mostly I just waited for you to get home.” Yeah, right. Even Jack can’t sit around doing nothing for a full day. “I don’t know. I washed my dishes from yesterday. Listened to all of Enema start to finish. Called my mom. It wasn’t that eventful.”

“You’re so ridiculous,” Alex mumbles, feeling his lips buzz against fabric. “Proud of you for doing the dishes, though.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. It won’t happen again.”

Alex smiles, too tired to laugh. “Sure.”

Jack is gently rubbing his knuckles against Alex’s back. “That was it. Not a lot to report, I told you.” “How’s your mom?”

“Good. She asked about you.”

“Oh? What did you say?”

“That you went dark side and became a drug dealer.” Alex snorts. “She took it well, of course. Told me she always knew you were a drug dealer inside and that she was glad you were living your truth.”

“She did not say that.”

“I am one hundred percent serious, I can call her right now and ask.”

If Alex weren’t so worn out, he’d keep up the banter, but he’s pretty sure neither of them are up for it at the moment, so he lets it drop. For a few minutes, they sink into an easy quiet. Alex sighs, content. His soul has stopped its restless search for comfort, now that he’s home, now that they’re reunited, and the calm washing over him is stronger than a sedative. “Mm, I’m so tired,” he says, mouth barely moving. “Wanna sleep.”

“I’ve been tired for, like, twenty-four hours,” Jack says. “Go to sleep. I’m right there with you.” He drops a kiss onto the top of Alex’s head, knuckles still tracing their pattern just under Alex’s shoulder blades, a sweet soporific lulling Alex to the edges of consciousness. He wants to kiss Jack goodnight, but he doesn’t have the energy to move. As it is, he’s pretty sure he’s already drifted off.

“G’night,” he remembers to say.

Jack drums his fingertips over Alex’s back, and even though Alex can’t see him, he knows Jack is smiling. “‘Night. Love you.”

Fuck, that’s what he’d forgotten. “Love you,” Alex exhales with the last of his waking energy, and falls asleep after that, with no reason left not to.

(He would say I’m happy to be home, but he’s already said it with love you, and he knows that Jack knows.)

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unproduciblesmackdown · 4 years ago

Note

comet, moon, pluto, aquila, protostar

Thank You vm

Comet- What are you currently frustrated about?

lmaooo oh you know at any given time i’m weaving this rich tapestry of continual frustrations lol.....i’d say i’m in an Upswing Period of [simmering frustration levels closer to the surface] lately too lol like earlier in the week i pushed through a day or two there more casually but then it was like ah jeez here comes the malaise. more specifically today, even just before sitting down to answer this, i emerged from the bathroom to find there was a “dog has pooped inside despite having been outside within the last 10 min” shituation, which was wonderful.....annoyed from Waking by “smh at not being able to adjust my nocturnality, still frustrated about the near success of last friday being thwarted by the dead of night hammering debacle,” & regular Antagonizing Audio issues, aka being stressed by both the [loud, alarming] type sound & the [gross textural misophonia hell] type.....earlier i was like “where is the dish sponge” (still don’t know) & went to get a new, packaged one which had been in a drawer, but that one was gone too, good that there’s no pressing need to wash dishes rn i guess.....still struggling with the “well i guess i’m trying to put myself out there Socially” attempt to find relevant public discords, being generally overwhelmed as actually talking to randos in a group is A Lot & in theory it’s like well you meet someone Specific you��d enjoy talking to & branch off from there but unfortunately you can’t just skip to that step, also i do not genuinely Expect to get to that step either way, also i am not easily finding servers in the 1st place b/c it’s like, well i talk about Interests but what am i interested in? who knows. don’t do art “seriously” enough to rly wanna discuss it much, thought abt Language Learning but one i found wants you to have a verified account lmao like, no thanks. in theory i enjoy Socializing some but in practice it is sure a trial & i have not said anything to anyone anywhere yet, just a “well, not sure what else i could do here situation,” in theory take up an In Person hobby / group to make it all easier but that’s not happening. which, i was also Frustrated remembering oh right i spent a year as measured by my personal age in 1 location, both Pandemic & other [society] problems, & speaking of Interests & Hobbies not having them, i was also >:| over something having kicked in my Math Sensibilities (aka that i like math) & wondering like, would i have enjoyed getting more into math / some particular application, who knows, same but also even more so re: other things i get the sense i’m quite Into, like learning languages & ~performing arts~, which, i at least took math / math related classes into college level courses, which is not true for those other things (took a Language Class: never, took a theatre / drama class: for 1/4 of the schoolyear in 7th grade, & prior to that, just did a scene or two of a play in english class 4th grade, & the approx decade extracurricular of ballet, which is related but of course a different thing. anyhow, annoyed that i Simply Do Not Know & hardly see opportunities to find out on the horizon, although who knows.....which is related to being frustrated about [Society] some more like, thinking about “boy how different would it be if people were guaranteed the right to Essentials For Life like housing, food, medical care, both electricity & the internet Now A Days...” like, agonizing What If there, it is all so unnecessary that It Is Like This......just now someone made an unnecessary Post lmfao thank you xkit.......oh right, i was Frustrated, with an emphasis In Aro / Ace, about Media & Life, what else is new & then, you know, musings on The Theoretical Future & One’s Personal Past that would become even more of a like, audioscape: therapy session topic, these are frustrating things. and all of this answer has been stuff i remember getting Frustrated about in the past 24 hours. Also!!! that last night i was like, i want to play scrabble, so i looked up an online game but the Computer settings are a nightmare like, as far as i could tell the Difficulty settings were mostly attuned to Average Word Length but it was like, yeah you’re playing against this opponent given this effective total familiarity with the most obscure / archaic shit in the scrabble dictionary, not even simply the like, q words / two letter words ppl might happen to know specifically for the purposes of scrabble. there was also no “new game” button?? just had to refresh the page? smh. oh lmfao! also! you Know i was frustrated thinking about Billions, the series / interest that antagonizes you, jokes on you when you hone in on the Quant where it’s like, is he just meant to be the guy who sucks, plus he’s got depression....suppose they do at least handle him w/some sympathy / nonzero Care for this Char acter, but smh at sighing about [bracing yourself for anything promising (cough riawin) to spiral into disaster one way or another, whether it turns into a joke or plot device or just something introduced / built up / demolished for ambient drama/conflict].....what else is new. the periodic cycles of Billions Thoughts lol. was just frustrated at a video’s Editing Cadence basically lmfao. i also find it grating when the word “the jab” is used in tweets re: vaccination, which i just saw, presumably in the same sort of way where i automatically dislike the phrase To Be Fair or referring to food/eating with “fill / filling” or any variants lmfao, or earnest use of the description “hearty”......some words i hate the sound of no matter what, some i hate to hear used in a particular phrase / context......need to simply stop doing things in the middle of answering this b/c it will inevitably involve Frustrations lmfaooo. oh also i was annoyed to wake up to a clear sky. where’s that overcast atmosphere

Moon- Are you currently reading any books? If so, what book(s)?

i am not, but i’ve been considering it! just inconvenient b/c a) i gotta like, choose what book/s to read, & b) i have to read via laptop, which is kind of a pain, & c) like with everything, i always tend to basically read stuff all at once, but i’m also a slow reader lmao, so it’s like, okay, i’m probably basically devoting days on end to Reading Through whatever.....

Pluto- If you could meet anyone, alive or dead, who would you meet?

another classic Fascinating Answer of “i dunno” lol, i’ve never really had a go to answer for this or anything that’s particularly leapt out.....plus re: how i tend to feel nervous with on the spot socializing, the concept of like “if you could have dinner with someone” is too much lmfao like, a waste of time, i’d simply Be Nervous my way completely through it. the only way i could think of things is like, here i go giving someone an interview, i guess, and whomst tf would i feel Prepared to talk to lmfao. relevant to interests it’s like well of course you could ask w. roland things the in depth secret jared questions, or Any questions about quant n billions, but then it’s also like, well, there’s the questions I already have an answer for lol & either you have the same answer or i have a mini monologue, not like i don’t speak in mini monologues all the time if i have something to say at all, and my Questions go like that too lmfao, a disaster already trying to ask people about pertinent Information......never able to think of things re: people who have died, i suppose there’s fun answers re: like, getting lost / unknown Historical Info......when it comes to meeting people i don’t really consider it much in advance b/c i am nervous about everything & aware that any interacting is a Challenge lmfao. whenever these things actually happen, it’s hardly always a disaster, but i’m just improvising in the end. also, i could meet people i actually know but have never met, i.e. you, who i talk to but we are Virtual & Pandemic’d & etc & so on. but i suppose that’s kind of a given lol

Aquila- Do you prefer to read books or watch movies?

i think movies are less Involved for me, like, even if it takes me 3x their runtime (or longer) to watch any videos thanks to getting distracted & stuff, still quicker than i read a book, & unless i’m watching something for the first time and/or really wanting to properly pay attention, i can do other things while putting a movie on, whereas if i’m reading that’s the One Thing i can be doing. but overall i’m like “media, what media” whichever format lol like. haven’t consumed things, don’t often think of specific works i want/plan to consume, don’t often get around to it, etc. classique.....

Protostar- Give a random fact about yourself.

speaking of classic, me struggling to recall 101 info about myself or answer not that out there Questions, but when it’s like “alright hater what are you disgruntled about now” it’s like, Deep Inhale lmfao, but [are you okay? Is Anyone].jpeg on that one as well, we are out here......uh i’m sure i’ve said it before but i’m around 5′11″? maybe 6 ft tall but that might be overdoing it. sort of Average Tall but i am always literally looking down on people lmao.....and bumping my head into a low hanging light fixture around here.....

#nothingunrealistic1 #you know that's my On Brand query lol.....the three dozen ways of annoyed i probably am / have been on any given day

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melancholydreadfuldream · 5 years ago

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Alternative Dream Part One

Fandom: Doctor Who

Summary: Doctor Who AU where the Doctor as a war Doctor use the moment and managed to defeat the Daleks without destroying Gallifrey. He is seen as a war hero and is given new regeneration as reward. He was given a place in the government. He was never able to travel again so he never met Rose Tyler or any of his companion. He remained on Gallifrey and has regenerated into a version of Thirteenth Doctor where she continue to work for glory of Gallifrey. Until she met you, a time sensitive she was assigned to capture at any cost.

Pairing: Thirteenth Doctor x Reader, Yaz x Reader and Jack Harkness x Reader

Warning: angst, mention of use of violence, forced relationship, ooc.

A/N: I’m bullshitting my way with this particular fanfiction. So Pardon the mess.

PART TWO is here

Time sensitive.

I hated that word.

Time sensitive is a being that is able to see both past and future timeline. Sometimes, if the Time sensitive person is of strong line, he or she would be able to see alternate timelines. Time sensitive person were deemed too fragile and dangerous to be left on their own. Most time sensitive are human and they are not meant to see time like that. Not many can cope with seeing through the fabric of time and most of the time, they went insane or burn out from the outside and inside. It will be a painful death.

My name is (name) and I am a time sensitive. Unfortunately.

Because of my nature, my family is hunted by a race called the Time Lord. They have a very firm law regarding a time sensitive person, they are to be taken to their home planet, Gallifrey, where the person will be chosen as a bride for some pompous Time Lord. Once they are bonded, the time sensitive person will have a stable mind and their power will be attune more to those of the past and the future of his or her bonded Time Lord.

Most of time sensitive have no choice and are forced to bond with a Time Lord, willing or not. I will not have that as my fate. So I ran, as far away as possible. I'm one of the oldest of age for someone who is a time sensitive. Most younger time sensitive are unable to hid very well and thus was taken to Gallifrey.

Time sensitive is originally supposed to be rare and yet these past years there are lot of people born with the time sensitive potential. I heard rumor it was because something that originated from Gallifrey. They said time sensitivity is a virus that plaque the human and the forced bond is some kind a cover up by the Time Lord. No one know for sure. The Time Lord are not very forthcoming about it. They never saw the human as equal in the first place, it's beneath them to even be with human, and yet they forced a bond with time sensitive person. They never treated time sensitive well, just another pawn for their own gain.

The Time Lord decided to take over the Earth so they can keep track and control all born time sensitive. Of course, the people of Earth refused and fought but it was useless. The Time Lord is superior compare to us, human.

I have motivation to continue evade those pompous time jackass. The Time Lord who found me is a bastard that didn't even respect me and only saw me as a means to an end. He caused the death of my parents. I was able to trick him and trap him inside a prison he prepared for me and I escaped his rage. I never saw him again. I hope he never able to escape that cage, it would serve him right to spend the rest of his immortal life imprisoned.

I have been joining a human resistance against the Time Lord on some corner of the Earth. With my time sensitivity, I become useful in the resistance to evade those time jackass. Though lately, I have been feeling sickly every time I peek on the fabric of time. I knew I was running out of time. I have to bond with a Time Lord (over my dead body) or really dies. I choose to die but I will use my time sensitivity as long as I can to help the resistance.

&&&&

On the Gallifrey, the Time Lord officials are having a meeting regarding the resistance.

"They have a time sensitive on their side. That's the only possible way they could ever hope to evade us."

"Have we locate this time sensitive traitor?"

"They have hidden him or her very well. We think the time sensitive has got a bio damper to hide their signature."

"How is that even possible? Find him or her immediately!"

"This particular time sensitive person seemed stronger than most. He or she will be valuable."

"If they help the human, it's unlikely they will pledge loyalty to us. Too dangerous. I voted we find them and execute them as a warning to those against us."

"What a waste. We could force a bond and they would have no choice but to serve whoever Time Lord they are bonded to."

"They have been out there for too long. Their mind is probably unstable. It would only be a matter of time before they dies. But considering how they have been using their power, they are too dangerous to be left alive. I voted we kill them on sight."

The Doctor never like these meeting and despite being a celebrated war hero, no one seemed to want her opinion. She never approved of the Time Lords' decision to take over the Earth or the forcing of bond for those poor time sensitive people. But she also knew they have no choice but to bond with time sensitive or they will die. She hated that the Time Lords are forcing a bond, not because they care for the human, but because they want to exploit their power.

The Doctor raised her hand much to annoyance of the other. "I voted we capture them alive and then we will monitor their state of mind before we do anything harsh."

"Noted, Doctor." But it was clear to the Doctor, they didn't care. "So who will go to earth and find them?"

"I volunteer." The Doctor said as she raised her hand again eagerly.

&&&&

The Doctor stroke her Tardis longingly. "It's been a while, old girl. Let's have an adventure together, eh?" she said. "We have to help the human and the poor time sensitive person on their side. Do you have any idea where they are?"

The Tardis hummed gently inside the Doctor's mind and she grinned. "Then, shall we go?"

&&&&

I woke up in sweat. My eyes widened.

Yaz rushed toward me. "Are you okay, (name)? What is it?"

"Someone is coming...someone dangerous..."

Yaz looked worried. "Do you know when?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Don't know. I can't see it clearly."

"It's getting worst, isn't it, for you, I mean, to see the future?" Yaz asked sadly.

"I'm fine, Yaz. Just needed more rest and I will be good as new." I lied.

She didn't believe me of course but she didn't argue. She knew better. Everyone knew I have an expired date.

&&&&

"Who the hell are you? You are trespassing here!"

The Doctor raised both hands in surrender. "I'm human, like you, I come in peace. I'm just looking for asylum here."

Jack stared at him in suspicion. "Scan her!" he ordered his soldiers.

The Doctor remained calm as a soldier approached her with a scanning machine to determine her species.

"Confirmed, human." the soldier replied.

The Doctor hummed. She is glad that her hunch is correct that the human has got their hands on the species scanner machine. The Doctor has put an upgraded bio damper on herself. "See? My name is Jane Smith. Now, may I get some rest? Been walking around for long and I'm tired."

Jack narrowed his eyes at the Doctor. "Fine. Let her get back to the bunker to see Martha. Tell her to keep an eyes on her."

The Doctor sighed in relief. She is in. Now she has to figure out which one of the human is the time sensitive.

&&&&

The Doctor got along well with Martha. Martha is a doctor who is in charge to keep everyone in good fit. She has checked the Doctor and cleared her.

Martha introduced her to Donna who is in charge of assigning new people to their quarter and duty.

The Doctor stared at Donna's ginger hair longingly. "I never get to be ginger..." she murmured.

Donna is loud and a bit intimidating, the Doctor found, but she likes her enough.

Strange, how most of the people here in resistance are likeable to the Doctor, even though some of them, are soldier like Rose, Amy and Clara. For some reason, the Doctor felt like she knew them like they were old friends. But that's not possible as she never seen them before.

It was dinner time and everyone, in the bunker, have dinner together. Despite their situation, they are having a good laugh with each other. The Doctor admired them. She watched Rose and Clara having a laugh together at Jack's expense. Martha is seated with her boyfriend, Mickey, whispering at each other. Amy is with a soldier called Rory whom the Doctor learned is also her husband. A woman named Bill and Heather are distributing food for everyone. Everyone is having a good time.

The Doctor's eyes widened when she saw her former companion, Sarah Jane Smith. She was on the other side of the room, talking with Donna. She had no idea that Sarah Jane is part of the resistance. She smiled fondly. Of course, Sarah Jane will be a defender of the earth.

The Doctor took a seat with Rose and her friends.

"Hey, new girl, Jane, right?" Rose asked with a friendly smile.

Clara grinned as she look her up and down in appreciation which make the Doctor blushed red. "Looking good, Jane..."

"Down, girl." Rose said with a grin.

They soon involved with a friendly conversation with each other.

"So, how do you lot meet each other?" the Doctor asked curiously.

"Well, we all have our reason to join resistance... Mine is because of our daughter..." Amy said with a sad smile. "But we are actually recruited by..."

Rose suddenly shushed her. "No one is to mention him, remember?"

"Ah, right, he-who-shall-not-be-named."

"He's not Voldemort, Amy."

Everyone laughed at the running joke between them.

The Doctor observed everyone's interaction and realized that they must have been recruited by the time sensitive. But why? What makes them so special? Also now she knew the time sensitive is a man. She will have to look around for a male fit the description of a time sensitive.

&&&&

"You need to eat, (name)." Yaz tried to persuade me to have dinner.

"Not hungry..." I said softly as I laid on my bed and stared at the ceiling.

Jack entered the room without knocking. The former time agent always annoyed me since I always reprimanded him about his manner. "Hey, how is my Voldemort doing today?"

I scoffed at the nickname. "Shouldn't I be the boy who lives?"

"Nah, too heroic." Jack said with a grin.

It was a secret within our circle that the time sensitive is actually me and that I am a female. It was Clara's idea to throw the Time Lord off my scent. That's why they spread a rumour that the time sensitive is actually male just in case there are mole within the resistance. It annoyed me that the team I put out nicknamed me Voldemort or he-who-shall-not-be-named.

"Did you see anymore about our hostile visitor?" Jack asked. He is worried after Yaz told him about my vision.

I shook my head. "Nope. But whoever it is coming and we have to be on alert."

"There a few new people coming in to join us. I already scanned them and they passed all the tests." Jack said.

I hummed. "Don't forget the Time Lord is a smarter race than us. They have plenty time to upgrade everything in their disposal. Ours are a bit outdated."

"Haven't you see anything that could help in that regard?"

"Think the Time Lords are on me and my tricks. I think they put precaution to put shadow around Gallifrey. Can't see them clearly."

"Well that is a bummer."

"Jack!" Yaz glared at him.

"Sorry, (name), you did good work." Jack said with a sad smile.

"I hate that I can't be much help." I said. "I have to prepare Melody for when the time come for me to die..."

Melody is the seven years old daughter of Amy and Rory and she is a time sensitive like me. I have been training her to hide herself from the prying us of other time sensitives and the time lords. She is the whole reason I recruited the parents. She will be my replacement in the future.

But that's not the only reason, I knew her parents are a potential defenders of earth. I saw it in my vision. most people I recruited personally are because of my vision. I knew that in another timeline they were defenders of earth alongside someone called the storm? I never find out about the storm person and I never told any of them about him. At least I think it's a him.

Jack and Yaz winced every time I mentioned about my being dying. They hated how helpless they are regarding my situation. It is not like they could get their hand on a decent time lord to bond with me. I told them plenty of time there are not one decent time lord in existence.

Sarah Jane disagreed though. She mentioned a man called the Doctor who always defended the earth. But she think that man has died because otherwise she believed that the Doctor would join our cause. I never believe her. I didn't recruit her but I sense she is a good person as she joined the resistance on her own free will.

&&&&

The Doctor has been with the resistance for a week now and hasn't gotten any closer in figuring which male is the time sensitive. The said time sensitive indeed have been using a bio damper to hide his signature. The Doctor is worried the other Time Lords will be impatient and will declare wars on earth to force the time sensitive out.

The Doctor suspected a soft-spoken Ryan, who is not a soldier, is the time sensitive but she hasn't got any proof. Ryan is always with Graham, his grandfather, working on fixing damaged machinery within the bunker.

She hasn't formally talk to Sarah Jane either. She is unsure whether she should revealed her identity to her former companion. She is unsure that Sarah Jane would help her in tracking down the time sensitive.

She noticed a young woman sitting on library all by her lonesome.

"Hello there, I'm Jane, who are you? Never seen you before and I have been in the bunker for a week." the Doctor asked.

&&&&

I was minding my own business, drawing a doodle on my sketch book, when a young woman approached me. I glanced at her. One of the new people Jack mentioned then. I ponder whether I should talk to her or be rude so she left me alone. I closed down my sketch book and said, "I have been ill so I haven't gotten out of my room. Doctor's order."

Without invitation, Jane took a seat beside me. I tried to push down my annoyance. "You shouldn't sit with me. I'm still ill. Wouldn't want to get you ill too..." I said, hoping to scare her away.

Jane didn't look bothered. "I'm not worried. I'm always healthy all my life. My mother said that germs are afraid of me." she said as she moved closer to me.

"Look, Jane, do you mind? I would rather be alone." I said rudely.

"You haven't tell me your name yet..."

"Why? Do you already know the name of everyone in the bunker?!" I asked angrily.

"Well, I meet with everyone already, I think, except those who are on mission." she said. "As for their name, sure, I do, I'm good with names, you see..." Then she started rattle on some name that I recognized and some that I didn't.

"Alright, I get it, It's (name), okay?" I said in annoyance and a bit impressed.

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it? Let's be friend, shall we?"

"I don't do friend." I said immediately.

"How can you do not do friend? That's impossible!"

Jane's behaviour started to annoy me so much.

At the times, Yaz entered the library. When she saw me and Jane, she schooled her expression in a firm manner. "(Name), are you ditching your duty again?" she asked. She was saving me from having to interact with Jane. She knew how much I hated interaction.

"And who are you?" Jane asked with a tone that almost flirty which make Yaz blushed, which amused me. "Never see you either before. Hello there."

"I'm Yaz." she introduced herself. "You are Jane, right? Everyone talk about you. You are really famous with the children."

"I try..." Jane said with a grin.

"Sorry, Jane, we got to go to, duty call." I said as I grabbed Yaz away from her.

"Can I go with...?"

Before she could finish, I pulled Yaz quickly and out of the way.

"That was mean, (name)." Yaz said as she saw Jane has this sort of kicked puppy look on her face.

"She is too cheerful, I hated it." I said.

Yaz sighed.

&&&&

The Doctor meet Melody and she realized almost immediately that she is a time sensitive. So there are more than one time sensitive within the resistance, the Doctor concluded. She realized someone has been training little Melody to utilize her power. But Melody is still a child and she slipped out which caused the Doctor to catch on her signature.

She remembered what Amy said about her reason to join the resistance is for her daughter's sake. The Doctor felt sadness for the whole affair. She wishes she could fix the time sensitive problem. But she is helpless. The Doctor really fond of little Melody for some reason. She had no idea why.

She has to report to Gallifrey soon and she is unsure whether she should inform them about little Melody. Melody would be safer in Gallifrey. But the Doctor know it is not quite true. She shuddered at the thought someone might try to claim Melody too early. Also if she informed about Melody, she will be ripped away from her parents and that's something the Doctor can't accept. She loves Amy and Rory, they are now her friends. She had managed to make friends here and she knew she would have to betray them eventually.

#thirteenth doctor x reader #13th doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor imagine #doctor who fanfiction #doctor who imagine #shiefenwrites

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necroheir · 4 years ago

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weeks have turned to months and your journey to olympus, your acceptance of your life as a demigod, has lead up to this moment. it's been brutal, wrought with pain and close calls, thick with loss, but you've endured. as you begin to get ready to sleep, winding down for the night, something inside of you feels different. there's a strength that grows that you only dimly knew was there before. you feel stronger, faster, more attuned to your senses and your own inner power. if you ever doubted that you might have divine blood in your veins before, now, more than ever, you feel it. as soon as your head hits the pillow you fall fast asleep, exhausted from the events that have lead up to this point. who knows however long later, you "awaken". you're not where you fell asleep, there's no familiar body curled beside yours, nothing is as it was when you slept. you have to blink a few times but you realize that you're in a place that seems familiar to you. describe this place? what does it look like, sound like, smell like?

viktor awakes to the feeling of cool rain against his face. his lids open, and he sees the sky, slanted, silver streaks of rain pattering onto his wasted mug, as if to rouse him conscious. he shifts and feels the uncomfortable jab of cardboard boxes pressed into his spine. he fidgets again, and a pile of rotted trash knocks over and clatters to the ground next to him. his body feels like a thousand tons and he knows... knows by the muffled sound of bar tunes and the stench of alleyway filth that he'd blacked out drunk in his own vomit again. he drags himself up, sitting properly against the brick wall behind him, and closes his eyes to clear the pounding headache in his brain.

with your eyes closed, you will your headache to go away, will your senses to block out the familiar stench of trash and vomit, the familiar sounds of the jukebox that plays song after song. after a while, with the rain still battering down upon you, an onslaught of cold, you open your eyes to see a figure standing in the alleyway, looking toward you. it's obscured by the heavy rain, making it almost appear like a dark blot in your vision. for a second you maybe think that it's nothing more than a trick to your eyes, but after blinking a few more times, you can see something or someone is actually there. for a moment, the rain all but stops around them and you get a proper glimpse as to who or what is there. what do you see? describe what the figure is. is it a person an animal? be as descriptive as you'd like.

the miserable sights and sounds around him are too familiar to him, reminiscent of his days in russia, getting wasted every chance he got. he blinks away the rain and drags a too-heavy hand down his face as he makes out a familiar figure in the rain. a small, sincere smile traces onto his lips. "pashka?" the burly man curls himself forward and opens his hands for the cream-colored kitten that he'd befriended in the rain, some years ago. little pashka, with his cream-colored coat drenched and taut against brittle bones. he'd found him chewing on a rotted core of an apple that day, and brought him home. little pashka, the first thing to love someone like him. this little one, however, is not like the pashka he remembers vividly in his memories. this one has blue, comforting eyes, like yves'.

bright, comforting blue eyes look up into yours as you extend a hand out toward pashka. the cream-colored coat sticks to his frail bones like a second skin and, even though he looks miserable out in the rain, he perks up when he notices that it's you. sauntering over toward your hand, he butts his nose and forehead against your calloused fingers before he slinks his body along your hand, down his mane and back. then, pashka speaks. at first, you think you heard something—it's a muffled noise, maybe the rain battering against dumpsters and pavement makes it harder to hear, but it almost sounds like something is being muffled by water or glass. you strain to hear once more and you can make it out. a voice. coming from the cat. after the shock settles, you hear it clear as day, as if the rain is gone and there's nothing but you, pashka, and the voice speaking to you. what do you hear? what does the voice sound like? is male, female, animalistic? describe the reaction you have to hearing it.

viktor doesn't recognize the voice, but it sounds like a little boy's, not exactly like his son's. it sounds playful, and peppy, like he always remembered pashka to be, bounding up and down his bedroom corridor with an excitement that always had his hind legs teetering above his little head. even his own son looked upon him with disappointment and disdain, but pashka, his little kitten, had never, always greeting him with affectionate mewls and yowls. a soul snatched so soon. as viktor closes a hand over the kitten's head and thumbs it behind his ear, he remembers coming home one day to pashka's mangled head and gouged body on his doormat. then, the sneer of a stray dog with its muzzle coated in blood. a tear rolls down his cheek as he hears the voice, but he wipes it away quickly. "pashka," he wheezes mournfully. "pashka, my little boy."

the excited mewl turns into a voice as a gentle purr begins to rake through pashka's body. his eyes close, the bright blues closed happily as you pet behind his ears. "i've been waiting for you!" he says happily, the purr coating every word, the excitement and joy ringing true in his voice. "i knew you'd find me again and i'd find you! what took you so long?"

"i'm sorry," viktor chuckles through his tears. he's glad it's raining, and that nobody would think twice about glancing his way like this. he'd always been something of human trash, invisible and unloved. he wipes his snot and tears across his sleeve. "i have found someone who loves me." he laughs and cups pashka in his hands. he's barely a few ounces in his gigantic palms. "can you believe that, little pashka? someone like me. i have been... very happy."

pashka purrs happily as you say this and opens his eyes. he looks up at you and you find yourself staring back into the same ocean blue eyes that you stare into more often than not, the ones that look at you like you belong, like you matter. pashka moves to jump into your lap and curls up, legs outstretched over your side, and lays sideways a little to crane his head up toward you. "that's exciting! i knew someone else would love you." he butts his head against your stomach, getting comfortable against you. "you deserve to be happy! you always have!" he stops wiggling to look up at you again, his small mouth looking as if it's curled in a smile. "does it scare you, though, viktor? feeling worth something to someone?"

with pashka, it has always been easier to confess some of his deepest darkest secrets without fear of scrutiny. this little pashka with the color of yves' eyes makes him feel even more comforted, and at home. "no," he mumbled as he wipe away the last of his tears. he sits there, cross-legged, and strokes pashka's fur, wet and matted against his palm. "i am not afraid of being a monster." he wasn't afraid of being unlovable. he'd done far too many vile things in life to expect that kind of gesture from anybody, but... "i am scared of losing..." the knot tightens in his throat but he has to push this out. "i am scared of losing that someone." not for his own selfish gains, surprisingly enough. if someone or something was so pure to love someone like him, why couldn't it be him to die? maybe the gods had a plan for everything, but he just couldn't understand the fairness of that. when he'd come home, grocery bag in hand, to see pashka's blood smeared across his doormat, he'd wondered: why couldn't it have been him instead? he'd felt that when yves had gone down. dane couldn't have understood his mad desperation to save the person who viktor had thought too good to die. too loving. if not to love him, he knew pashka, or even yves, would sow that love to someone else undeserving.

"then we'll make sure you won't let that happen!" pashka says it as if it's the easiest truth to swallow, like a gummy bear versus a pill. he bounces up onto his paws, kneads into your thigh, and looks up at you with bright, intense eyes. "you're different now, you know! you're not the same viktor that found me. i think some of it has to do with this someone, but there's more to it. you've changed!" it's not a question really, nor a statement, but an observation. "you're not like your father, even if you still have that bottomless rage in you."

he doesn't know if pashka's words are true, but he wants to believe it. he's tried so hard these days to be someone deserving of yves' love. of pashka's love. "i didn't really know him," viktor chuckles. "but you are right." the russian hiccups, feeling a little more at ease as the rain soaks through his clothes and washes down his face. "i have to be steady," he drunkenly mumbles. "like the cliffs. i have to protect yves, because i could not save you, little pashka. you didn't deserve that."

"you do not know him, but i do." pashka's words are a purr as he nuzzles against your side once more. he looks up at you as you say his name and, for a moment, his eyes get sad. "your heart is in the right place. do you think you'll be able to be as strong as a mountain and as steady as a cliff, as fierce as the ocean, where you're at?" he butts his head against your chest after stretching to be on his hind legs. as he does so, you see flashes of the ASPIDA house and how you belong there, but then there's flashes of the other houses, too. "is that where you belong?"

viktor smiles easily and kisses the little kitten's apple-head. "of course," he chuckles, drunkenly confident. but something says that he's normally like this when he's sober, too. "i'm viktor zalessky. no matter how the wind howls, the mountain does not bow to it, eh?" he squints a bit as he sees flashes of the ASPIDA house. he sees his housemates, too, and while he has his differences with them, he considers them family. they all want to protect someone, just like him. belong. now, that wasn't a word he'd heard in a while. "maybe," viktor shrugs, and then he imagines an empty spot next to yves in their bed back home. that's where he belongs. not in some house. not in some bratva. not in prison. just there, next to yves, protecting him by all means necessary, even if it is a bit selfish. but ASPIDA... ASPIDA is the closest he's felt to home besides his boyfriend's arms, sure.

it's almost as if pashka can see what you're thinking, can see the same flashes as he lays his forehead against your chest, listening to the steady drumming of your heartbeat. "you love him." he says to you, looking up, craning his head to get a better look into your eyes. "you'd destroy the world to keep him safe." he doesn't form it into a question because he knows the answer already, knows the harsh reality of he tsunami and earthquake of your love. as harsh as it may be, as volatile and dangerous, pashka knows the calm eye of the storm that is your protection, your love. "we will make you strong enough to keep him safe." he kneads at your chest, claws digging in affectionately. "if you let me."

viktor's heartbeat is steady, like he's never been more sure of something in his life. "i do," he confesses with a slow exhale of relief. "i love him." he'd done worse things in exchange for much less. stolen, scammed, and even killed for money. for love? there was virtually nothing he couldn't do. he glances down, a hand protectively cupping the kitten's bottom so he doesn't tumble off. pashka had always been slow to recover from his maladies, growing much slower than other kittens his age. "i will, whatever it takes."

"whatever it takes." pashka says in return, purring deep and loud. "when you wake up, you'll be stronger! you'll be the biggest, baddest mountain ever! unstoppable!" he mewls loudly, the sound cutting through the pattering of rain that still falls on them. "we'll see each other again, i promise! just keep doing right by him and by you." clumsily, pashka jumps from your arms and skids a little, paws falling out from under him as he topples over before he slowly gets back to his feet. his tail sways from side to side, high and proud, as he walks away, out of the alleyway and into what looks to be spots of sun. you wake up in the middle of the night feel warm, droplets of sweat hang on your brow and yves' body is curled against yours. this, you think, is home. this, you know, is where you belong. you feel stronger now, more revitalized, but you still fall back asleep easily with your arms wrapped around your lover. when you wake in the morning, you feel brand new, unstoppable.

#path

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voicesfromthelight · 5 years ago

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The Story of “Abuela,” Simon, and Millicent: On Astral Party-Crashers (and How to Avoid Them)

Today, to celebrate the Halloween/Samhain season, I’d like to explore the somewhat spooky phenomenon of astral party-crashers.

Astral party-crashers are spiritual entities that sometimes pop up in mediumistic settings - or in your home! - who have no readily apparent association with any individual in the room, but are drawn to present themselves out of curiosity, benevolence, boredom, or, in some cases, energetic hunger stemming from unresolved issues that keep them hovering close to the physical plane. Luckily, the intrusions of astral party-crashers have been fairly infrequent in my personal experience. However, when I have encountered them, the evidence has been strong enough in terms of physical manifestations of synchronicities, etc., that I think it’s important for students of mediumship to know that they exist, and plan for them without apprehension.

Much of the work of a competent medium consists of understanding how to attune oneself to the spirit world, and receive accurate, verifiable information from it. However, far from being one uniform field, the “other side” is a multifaceted realm: a spectrum of different frequencies. Different types of entities dwell in different “layers” of the spiritual plane, of varying densities, much like different colours of light occupy different ranges on a spectrum of wavelengths. Accordingly, the emotional, spiritual, physical and energetic qualities of a medium determine which frequencies they are able to attune themselves to most easily. This is why Lorna Byrne speaks to angels, Jessyka Winston works with her Lwa, Tyler Henry passes messages between people and their dead loved ones, and I communicate most easily with Salvador, Natalie and my other guides, who dwell in a layer of the spirit realm somewhat higher in frequency than the astral. The reason I refer specifically to astral party-crashers when talking of this subject, is that the entities in question will usually pop up because they dwell in the frequency band commonly known as the astral realm, which is closest in density to that of the physical plane. This doesn’t necessarily mean that they are the types of ghosts who would cause physical hauntings, but I do find that they seem to have an easy time firing off synchronicities that manifest in the physical realm. Although they are usually harmless, and easy to miss altogether if one is not psychically open, if you find yourself frequently bumping into astral party-crashers, it may be an indication that your baseline energy level and psychic protection measures could use a boost.

The first time I bumped into an astral party-crasher was a bit over a year ago. The incident started on the same day I spoke about in my piece on clairaudience, during a time when my mediumistic ability was going through a bit of a spike. I had been working on a film set in Harlem that day, and took the opportunity of being in a neighborhood with a large Latino population to visit a local botánica. Salvador and Natalie are quite protective of me, and have more than once shooed me away from dabbling in working with any spirits outside of my circle of personal guides. However, I was curious to see the place, and wanted to buy a candle.

The botánica was a large space, with hundreds of different candles of all colours to choose from, soperas, and a plethora of pre-packaged oils and incenses for every magical purpose, stacked on shelves that reached from the floor to the ceiling. The energy there felt a little scattered to me, but not uncomfortable. I chose a candle for myself, and went home happy with my purchase.

The next day, as I was tuning into a channeling session, an unfamiliar spirit popped up and greeted me. In Spanish. Which I barely speak.

“¡Hola, Emily!”

Somewhat taken aback, I asked whom I had the pleasure of speaking with. “Soy Abuela,” she replied. (“I am Grandmother.”) She then switched to English, and went on to give me specific instructions on how to burn my candle for best magical results, and which herbs would work best with it. (Damiana and vetiver, on an alternating basis, she said.)

My psychic protection practices always include specifying whom I wish to communicate with before my channeling sessions, so when “Abuela” declared her presence, I was a little suspicious, but also, I admit, somewhat intrigued. If she was who she claimed to be, it seemed someone’s magically savvy grandmother had followed me home from the botánica, wanting to teach me her craft. I wasn’t so sure it was something I should be getting involved in, but appreciated her attention. I thanked her for visiting me, and said goodbye.

Abuela turned up again intermittently in my sessions over the next couple of weeks, and I remained somewhat wary of her. Salvador told me that she was harmless, but there were other incidents not directly associated with her - not all of them pleasant - that had me a bit on edge. My energy around this time was running low due to working very long hours on film shoots, and once in a while, I would notice astral level spirits that needed to be crossed over tagging along with me from my excursions out into the city, or otherwise subtly tugging at my spiritual sleeve. A woman from a small Finnish village I had never heard of before wanted me to warn her relative about a fire hazard, giving me her full name and place of residence. A gay man from a few states over wanted me to take a message to his husband. After sending them home, I would usually end up googling their obituaries, and try to find clues as to how to address their various requests. I attempted to make the most of it and gather at least some kind of mediumistic evidence. However, I knew in my heart that working outside of designated “office hours,” and being vulnerable to astral interference, was neither smart nor sustainable.

Because of these incidents, I began working long-distance with a shamanic healer and psychic named Joy. Joy, who specializes in working with other practitioners, was helping me tune up my psychic self-care and patch up my energy field to stop uninvited energies from seeping in.

At the end of my first phone session with Joy, I described some of the latest incidents of tag-alongs I had been experiencing. I mentioned my encounters with Abuela. Joy said that it was probably fine, but if she hung around much longer, it might be a good idea to ask her if she needed some help to move on.

Right after we ended our call, I decided to check my Instagram account to wind down from the session. As I opened up the app, through a slip of my hand, I unintentionally ended up on a feed that was not my own - which is something I rarely explore. And there, one of the very first posts that popped up was not a photograph, but one that only showed a screen capture of this text, in bold letters:

“¡SOY ABUELA!”

I do not recall hearing from her since.*

Perhaps the strangest incident I ever experienced of astral party-crashing happened in connection with a séance I attended a while ago, which I briefly outlined in my recent post on “getting the wires crossed.”

At the time, I had been shopping around for a new psychic development circle to join up with, and visited one I had been to once before, a few months earlier. I had already had some misgivings about the way the circle had been conducted before, but publicly announced séances are surprisingly few and far between in New York City, so I decided to give it a second shot.

As in most message circles, the protocol at this one consisted of the leader of the circle taking us through a series of meditations and psychic protection practices before moving on to passing messages to those present. However, my alarm bells soon went off, when after our initial meditations, during a quick break, the somewhat grandiosely inclined leader started to explain that there were demons attracted by the spiritual light generated by our circle, attempting to interfere. As he began to give a graphic description of the “demons” he had seen, I covered my ears and walked out of the room. (For the record: If you ever see anything menacing during a mediumistic meditation, unless you are specifically doing some kind of shadow work or banishing, the last thing you want to do is to feed it with attention and anchor its energy down through verbally describing it.) I did not care for the man’s foolish attempts to impress the novices at the event, nor was I intimidated by what he had said, but decided to let go of my reservations to get my own mediumistic practice time in.

When the break ended, I returned to the circle, and we moved into the section of the séance where messages would be delivered. As I meditated, I became aware of a middle-aged, stocky man, wearing leather boots and a cap. I heard the name “Simon.” He seemed to be a farmer. I placed him to have been alive around the 1970s. I did not recognize him, but he reminded me a bit of a character I had seen bizarrely stomp through a precognitive dream, the previous summer, flashing a set of very unlucky Tarot cards at me before declaring, á propos of them: “Nobody wins!” - the night before my fiancé had broken up with me. Then, in my mind’s eye, I saw a slender woman with long, brown hair. Her name was Millicent. She was wearing something that looked like a prairie dress. Perhaps a hippie. They seemed to belong together. I jotted down all the details, anticipating the end of the circle, when I could speak up and find out whose dead relatives I had brought through. They certainly weren’t mine.

The leader of the circle worked his way around the room, delivering messages to each attendee in turn. Then, he turned to me and said: “When I tune into your energy, I am aware of two spirits. There is an older man, whose name is either John or Simon. I’m not quite sure. And a woman with an M name. She comes across as a hillbilly. I think she’s Irish.” I concurred that I had picked on those exact two people, but my ancestral roots went back exclusively to Eastern Europe and Finland, and I definitely did not have any relatives from Ireland named Simon or Millicent. Surely they were there for someone else! However, nobody in the room recognized the rustic duo any better than I could.

The séance eventually trailed off, and I noticed that the leader never formally closed the circle. This worried me somewhat, but I told myself it wasn’t a big deal. I also wondered what exactly was going on with Simon and Millicent. Why would two such random characters show up for me, when we didn’t seem to have any direct connection? Still, for all my concerns, I was happy that the session had resulted in the information I had received on them being corroborated so closely by the other medium.

That night, as I was falling asleep, something very unusual happened. Right as I was dozing off, in a hypnagogic state, I heard a male voice loudly say my name in my right ear, almost as if it was physically coming from outside of my head. (Usually, when I receive clairaudient information, the impression is one of simply having a verbally expressed thought, and it feels like it is situated more near my left ear. Furthermore, it almost never happens unbidden.) “Ugh.” I thought. “Here we go. Someone followed me home.”

Life went on as normal for a while. Salvador confirmed to me the next day that the problem had been that the séance had not been closed properly, and I should avoid that particular circle in the future. I tried to shake off the incident.

About a week later, I met up for coffee with a dear colleague, and as we were catching up on what had been going on in our lives, I shared with him the strange story of Simon and Millicent. By then, I was laughing about it, and my friend was also amused.

Towards the end of our visit, we stopped by a large bookstore to look for some inspiration for a project we were working on together. My friend took the opportunity to visit the restroom, and as I was waiting for him, my eyes wandered to a book sitting on a stand in the children’s section: “Dear Mili,” read the title. It was a book illustrated by the illustrious Maurice Sendak, author of “Where The Wild Things Are.” I had already had several other, sweet little synchronicities happen that day, and so, my first thought was “Hey! My spirit guides must have wanted me to see this, since they always call me Dear Emily.” As I leafed through it, I discovered it was a somewhat creepy little story, discovered in the early 1980s in a letter written by Wilhelm Grimm to a young girl in 1816. The story made me somewhat melancholy, but the pictures were beautiful. I texted a picture of the cover of the book to a friend of mine who not only had been one of my first mediumistic clients, and was quite familiar with the lingo my guides use, but had also been at the séance with me where Simon and Millicent had made an appearance. “Look what Natalie sent me!” I captioned my photo.

Then, I opened the book up to its dedication page, and my jaw dropped open.

“For my sister, Natalie.” - M.S.

M.S. - Millicent and Simon?

Barely believing my eyes, I texted my friend a second photo of the page.

A moment later, she replied:

“Wait. Dear Mili - MILLICENT?!”

And that, as they say, was that.

These two incidents of astral party-crashing illustrate well some of elements that can contribute to being vulnerable to psychic interference. They can be summed up fairly simply:

Attempting mediumship when energetically run down either through physical tiredness, negative emotions, poor diet, illness, or while under the effects (or after-effects!) of mind-altering substances such as alcohol or drugs. (Yes, this includes cannabis for most people. CBD, however, is usually fine, as it isn’t psychoactive.)

Not practicing proper psychic self-care through meditation, energy-clearing, and psychic protection. This includes not only your personal energy, but your personal living space, as well.

Dabbling in practices that are not aligned with your spiritual integrity.

Spending time in places with negative energy, that attract low-vibration entities. These can be spaces associated with addiction, abuse, or violence. This doesn’t mean mediums need to avoid such spaces altogether, of course, but energetic clearing is doubly important after being exposed to that kind of energy.

Focusing on images, thoughts, or stories that invoke fear or unease. Don’t watch horror movies before doing a mediumistic session! At least give yourself a few days to detox.

Asking for trouble by intentionally invoking fear-based entities. (Duh.) Just don’t. It’s not worth it.

Being afraid of the spirit world, and of one’s own mediumistic tendencies.

Not properly opening and closing your mediumistic sessions.

On the other hand, my guides have a slightly different take on the matter. From their perspective, every experience is an opportunity to learn something new. So, here are some points that my guides conveyed through clairaudient dictation around the time that Abuela was visiting me. (Parts of this were cited in an early post on this blog about empathic vulnerability.)

Question: “Why are uninvited energies interfering with my mediumistic sessions? Am I not strong enough to keep them out?”

“Your guides know when an energy can be helpful even if you yourself have not set up the meeting. Even if you are being told something you think you do not want to hear, the energy itself may have something useful to tell you. Have no fear. You are in good hands. Wear an amulet if you think it will make you feel more safe, but this is not necessary or helpful if you do not trust your guides to help you. Call your guides to help you raise and strengthen your energies. Allowing the information that comes through to reach you as just that, information, and not as an energetic intrusion, will give you the best access to knowledge of all stripes.

Allow your guides to act as informed gatekeepers and let in the spirits covered in your opening prayer. [Being very adamant about proactive,] careful vetting places an undue burden of self-protection on the practitioner. If you feel unsafe or drained, plan ahead and look to your sources of strength to hold you in a higher vibration. Ask the lower energies to step away. You are safe […] Do not succumb to the influence of fear. You are OK. Pay attention to any disturbances in the atmosphere of your home, Work to become a better arbiter of your own boundaries. Nobody can enter your awareness [unbidden] if you have placed high enough barriers on your consciousness.”

All of this can be summed up into the principle that the stronger your connection is with your personal team of guides, and the better care you take care of yourself as well as your environment, the less vulnerable you will be to interference. Lately, I almost never experience these kinds of incidents anymore, and when they are about to happen, Salvador and Natalie will quickly warn me and nip them in the bud. The bottom line is, these are not things to be feared. At the limit, I would use this information to encourage my readers to treat themselves with love, self-respect and kindness, stay true to themselves, and build a strong relationship with own protectors.

Have you ever experienced an astral party-crasher? How did they make themselves known? How did you deal with it? How would you deal with it if it happened again? Let me know!

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

* In case you are wondering if this was a result of an algorithm being triggered by my phone “spying” on my conversation with Joy, I can only say that it wasn’t the first time that Spirit had used social media for synchronicities. The first time my guides gave me a timeline for an event using astrological timing, citing only the symbols for Venus and Scorpio, I had no idea what it meant - until I opened up Instagram after the session. The very first post on my feed was captioned with a long piece on the astrological implications of Venus shortly moving into Scorpio. There was no technological record of my channeling session to feed into any algorithm at that time. I also had never had any interest in astrology until that moment.

#spirit communication #astral #mediumship #psychic #medium #psychic medium #ghosts #hauntings #haunted #psychic protection #energy healing #spiritualism #seance #witchesoftumblr #witches #spirit guides #channeled messages #synchronicities #entities

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hakke-mujinsatsu · 6 years ago

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LFRP - Chiaki Tensen

The Basics––––

Name: Chiaki Tensen

Title: The Ironblooded

Age: Late twenties, early thirties.

Birthday: :shrug:

Race: Raen Au Ra

Gender: Non-binary (they/them)

Sexuality: Pansexual

Marital Status: Single

Physical Appearance––––

Hair: Black, typically kept in a thick braid that reaches to the middle of their back.

Eyes: Gold, rimmed with black. Luminous.

Height: Four fulms, ten ilms.

Build: Lean and muscular, very physically fit.

Distinguishing Marks: Tattoos, extending from the hollow of their neck all the way down to their knees.

Common Accessories: None.

Personal––––

Profession: Mercenary

Hobbies: Swimming, running, climbing, exercising - physical activity in general. Amateur leatherworking.

Languages: Common, Doman

Residence: Ul’dah.

Birthplace: Yanxia.

Religion: Kami worship.

Patron Deity: None.

Fears: Snakes, tight spaces, their foster father.

Relationships––––

Spouse: None.

Children: None.

Parents: Ujisuke Tensen (Father, deceased); Tsunako Tensen (Mother, deceased); Anayama Setsuri (Foster father, alive)

Siblings: Chiyoko Tensen (Older sister, seperated during the Garlean occupation. Presumed dead)

Other Relatives: Vague memories of an aunt, name unknown.

Pets: None.

Traits––––

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Additional Information––––

SMOKING HABIT: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

DRUGS: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

ALCOHOL: never / sometimes / frequently / to excess.

RP Hooks––––

Etched in Blood and Ink: Chiaki was born into the Setsuri-kai criminal syndicate in Yanxia and committed countless crimes in their name over the course of twenty five years, including a few hits against high-profile targets. Their reputation as the Setsuri-kai's top enforcer has carried over into common knowledge, though only vague descriptions of their appearance exist. The irezumi covering Chiaki from neck to knees reflects their criminal background, spinning a sordid tale of violence and death for those who know what to look for. They typically keep most of their tattoos covered but... well, nobody's perfect a hundred percent of the time.

On the Lam: This ties into the first one: Chiaki is a criminal on the run, both from their past and those that would see them dead for it. The vengeful relative of someone they rubbed out, a bounty hunter looking to drag them to Othard for a heaping pile of koban, or another criminal who wants them dead for a breach of conduct - all and more might have a reason to want Chiaki’s head on a pike. Talk with me and we can work something out!

The Professional: Since escaping to Eorzea, Chiaki has made a living as a mercenary, exchanging their skill at arms for the gil necessary to keep a roof over their head and food on their table. Despite their best attempts to keep a low profile, Chiaki is starting to develop a reputation for their professionalism - and the brutal efficiency with which they carry out their missions. Need something dead? Chiaki can get it done. Looking for a bodyguard? Chiaki’s got your back. Too lazy to pick your own flowers? Don’t worry - no task is too small if it pays the bills.

The Little Mountain: Chiaki possesses strength far beyond that of a normal person, courtesy of a powerful and uniquely-manifested attunement to earth aether. While carrying out more mundane tasks, its not uncommon to find them lifting and carrying heavy loads by themself (though more unwieldy containers still require assistance!). Witnessing such a sight might pique someone's curiosity.

OOC Information––––

Server: Balmung

Contact Info: Chiaki Tensen ingame, ElectricSeagullColony#6693 on Discord. Please check out my Carrd as well!

Preferred RP Platform: Ingame, but willing to use Discord.

Roleplay Style: I generally keep to small posts (one paragraph at most) in busy public spaces (such as the Quicksand) but I'm open to longer, more indepth descriptions when the situation warrants.

Preferred Narratives: Honestly I’m just about willing to play out any sort of narrative, but I do have a few preferences. Adventure-flavored stuff is dope and something I would like to do more of, as well as combat-oriented roleplay. I generally prefer not to use /random when doing a combat scene (especially vs. non-player characters), but I understand why people like/prefer it and I'm not adverse to using it. Relationship roleplay is fine if that's where the story takes us, but I'm not going out of my way to seek it. Despite Chiaki’s background, I am not seeking out criminal/yakuza-themed roleplay, though more “morally grey” stuff is just fine. Typically I like to plan scenes out, but not particularly in-depth, just enough to generally establish what's going to happen and then we can take it from there.

Themes: I'm open to mature themes, such as graphic violence, foul language, drug use, etc., as mentioned above. In the very unlikely case that a scene starts to grow uncomfortable for me, I'm not afraid to vocalize it to whoever I'm roleplaying with. That said, potential roleplay friends, if there are things that do disturb you please let me know ahead of time so I don't inadvertantly make you uncomfortable! Roleplay is here to be fun and the last thing I want to do is ruin someone else's good time by being a bit overly-descriptive with violence, for example.

Miscellaneous: Headcanon and lore-bending friendly, if that wasn’t entirely obvious! If I enjoy RPing with you I’m definitely willing to go with whatever you’ve got going on, so long as it doesn’t explicitly fly in the face of what the game has established. Basically - if the game hasn’t provided a hard no on something, I’m generally willing to say yes. I will not engage people roleplaying canon characters - if that’s what you wanna do, go right ahead, but I’m not game. Finally, if you have any questions/want to know more - ask! I’m probably pretty friendly. Thanks for reading!

---tagging @mooglemeet and @crystalxivrp for visibility

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pisati · 5 years ago

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I saw my psychiatrist for presumably the last time today. I’m sad she’s leaving, since she’s the first psychiatrist to actually try with me. to take a look at all the meds I’ve tried, pinpoint what was making me sick, and avoid that. the first medication she picked has been working just fine for me. it’s maybe not ideal, I could probably be doing better, but it’s leagues better than where I was before. powering through it on sheer willpower alone just so I could get through school, because I didn’t have the time or energy (or money, frankly) to get good mental health care.

we talked about my job briefly, traded cute animal pictures-- her dogs and some of the clients at my clinic. she mentioned that she was leaving the practice because, despite the pay, it just wasn’t where she wanted to be. she had to take a step for herself. I just did that myself-- it’s nice to know we’re on the same wavelength as far as self-awareness and being attuned to our needs. I’m going to miss her, for sure, but I’m glad she’ll be feeling better going back to school and teaching.

I forget how it came up, but we mentioned the future as well. ah-- she went on kind of a tangent saying how, since I’m doing so well in and enjoying being at the clinic I could maybe move up and do office-manager-type work in a clinic one day, and I said, well, maybe. right now I’m not sure I want to stay in the animal medical care industry (though it makes a lot more money than other avenues, depending what jobs you have). but the experience is absolutely invaluable, especially since they’re cross-training me as a vet assistant too.

but this is what’s hitting me like a hard slap to the face: I went on to say that I could still see myself in animal care. this medical experience would be hugely beneficial for me, especially if I stayed in something like sheltering. and I could see myself doing that. I could see myself moving up in a shelter environment; I could see myself doing something like our shelter director does (though I’m not entirely sure what her job is-- but it’s certainly not all office work). I told her that I couldn’t see myself just being in an office again.

I’ve talked about it before. how I just knew, somehow. in my 5th grade yearbook, in that little “about me” section we each had under our pictures... mine said “future career: veterinarian”. I used to know myself so much better, before the fear set in. but this feels like a slap in the face because it’s really the first time in at least 5-6 years that I’ve said anything about my future with any kind of conviction. I’ve thought about going into psychology, maybe even counseling; some of those netflix docuseries had me considering juvenile detention counseling too. but even after I read up on the job descriptions and what those things entail... I’m just not sure. I could maybe see myself at a practice somewhere, maybe even in a school, but I just don’t know. I can’t imagine a future for myself without animals, whether that’s just as pets or whether I make it my job.

I think I even mentioned when I was still at my last job, that if money were no issue, I’d be working at an animal shelter, no question. I think now I’m becoming less afraid of the financial consequences of that decision. it would be nice to have a supplemental income, maybe even a partner with a second income to contribute to rent costs, but... I don’t know, ya know? I think we’re all struggling, and society’s gonna collapse because nobody’s making enough money to live. might as well do something that makes me feel good.

it makes me sad to think about all the time I spent in linguistics. I’ve never not loved it. but I can’t blame myself for being afraid, and for not knowing better.

but this really feels like something I could do. my confidence is lacking a little; I think I’d need to get better trained with animal behavior, definitely. one thing that’s holding me back is how intimidated I am by fearful and aggressive animals, but that’s also because I don’t have the kind of training that many people in my clinic have. there’s one tech in particular who’s specifically trained in behavior and she does happy visits with some dogs who are literally too afraid to let the vets touch them. she’s been working with this one dog for months and he finally reached the point where they did an exam, and I think they just did his first rabies vaccine the other day. but I’ve seen cats screaming and hissing and swiping; I watched a cat try to bite while it was getting blood drawn, even with the cone we put on him. I’ve seen dogs whimper and flinch away from needles; I haven’t witnessed a bite or a near-bite yet, but I know some have to be muzzled during procedures just because the potential is there. I don’t know how to handle things like that, and you have to be confident with yourself and your ability to handle the situation when you’re working with animals like that. you have to keep a cool head. and I’m not at all confident. but here’s the thing-- I feel like I could definitely get there.

I’m still thinking about grad school. maybe something to do with animal behavior. I’ll have to see, and I’ll have to see if there are any prereqs. I’m sure I missed out on a lot of classes I’d need for that kind of degree.

it’s scary, looking forward like this. not being sick over it; not wanting to die at the thought of all this time I still have to drag myself through. I’m not 100% confident that this is where I want to go, but it’s a much surer foot I’m putting forward than it has been in the past. I really need to sit down and ask myself if this is what I want. if this really is the path I want to go down. I want to have a game plan. I want to know what I want out of it first. part of me wants to see where it takes me, but part of me also wants to plan ahead. I’m not doing grad school without having goals, but it’s hard to have goals when you’re still pretty new to the field.

I looked at my wrist today, and I had one of those moments that was like.. oh. you’re still there. sometimes it’ll hit you after you’ve gotten a tattoo that, wow, this shit’s really there forever. this one on my wrist is going to be 7 years old this winter, and it’s really gonna be there when I’m old and wrinkly. just thinking about these 7 years and how it’s still there.. I don’t know how to describe the feeling. forever becomes so much longer when you realize you’ve barely gotten through a fraction of it. it’s been a long 7 years, but also... only 7 years? I got it when I was 18. it’s still here at 25. it’ll still be there at 30. at 50. at 80. there’s so much time, and it’ll still be there. that’s pretty wild.

those kind of things just remind me how much time I [theoretically] have left. how many experiences I have the potential to pack into my life. maybe one day I will be able to open the record store of my dreams, and run a rat rescue, and have a little craftsman-style house and a lavender farm. maybe I won’t. but it’s comforting to think about a possible future in animal sheltering. what doors that might open for me. maybe if I get more confident in my crafting skills I’ll finally start selling my projects for money; maybe that’ll go somewhere.

I don’t know. maybe it’s the antidepressants, maybe it’s that I’m finally on the upswing from period week, maybe it’s everything. I’m feeling so much better than I used to. I was sitting on the train this morning, listening to some playlist of something or other, and a sad song came on. and I remembered my past self almost embarrassedly. why did I just perpetuate my sadness? didn’t I know that by listening to such sad music all the time I wasn’t allowing myself to get better? I don’t think that was necessarily the case. I might just not be as inclined to listen to that caliber of sad music lately because I don’t feel like I need a companion in my sadness anymore. that kind of thing was comforting to me in the past. maybe it kept me in some dark places, but it was nice just to feel like someone else ached like me at some point. it was the closest thing I had to company.

anyway. it’s nice to be out of that for a little. now I think it’s time to maybe start thinking about the future. baby steps.

#blah blah

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mysticsparklewings · 6 years ago

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Watercolor Kitty

Look, paint! So not that long ago I more or less made the decision with myself that I wanted to branch out into watercolor. I've been avoiding the world of painting for a while because...I mean, have you guys seen that gigantic rabbit hole of supplies to pick through, for one thing?? Beyond that, just overall my past experience and knowledge of paint up until this point hasn't been that inspiring. (I'm going to describe past experience now, but in small text so if you're not interested you can just skip it.) For starters, it wasn't until like halfway through high school that I finally understood there were even different kinds of paint that behave differently, and I did not learn that from art class, either. I'm not sure when and where exactly, but I found out on my own and was like, why were we never taught this. A thought I still have regularly, I might add. You'd think that would be a pretty high-ticket item in art classes past Elementary school. All of my watercolor experience until recently was contained within my elementary and middle school years. The colors were always super washed out and even though at one point we went over techniques, we didn't actually get to use them more than like twice. And then high school art never addressed watercolors again. Other than that, I had heard the term "oil paint" thrown around, but I didn't really understand what it was. The closest thing I knew of was oil pastels, but that didn't help because they were like older cousins of crayons and not very paint-like at all. I have done a few things with acrylic in the past, but mostly solid backgrounds (or not very interesting school projects that never explained they were acrylic paints in the first place; it's paint just use it as instructed) in which I spent entirely too long trying to mix just the right color and enough of it, and then you have to bend over backward to keep the stuff from drying out. No thank you. Then last year I started my adventure in trying to recreate this thing called the Rainbow Sponge (and have done so to moderate success, but that's a conversation for another day) and in that process acquired some inks by Dr. Ph. Martin. When testing colors to make sure I was grabbing what I wanted, they reminded me of watercolors, and the general impression I got during that time (from experimenting and from researching) was that they pretty much were watercolors, the exception being that once they dried you couldn't re-activate them. (And they were purely liquid; most watercolors are either the little panned cakes or the more traditional "paint consistency" you find in tubes and apparently the liquid watercolors you find are usually dye-based instead of pigment based, so they behave slightly differently on paper.) After seeing a couple of Youtubers I trust try them, I decided to spoil myself with some commission money and ended up with this set of strange watercolor sheets, and even though I didn't know much about watercolor, I really liked them and the idea of a water brush instead of a traditional paintbrush and 50,000 trips to change paint water. Plus, by this time I had learned that watercolor doesn't have to be all totally washed-out pastels. Who knew, right? Somewhere in this mess, I was attuned to the idea of first the Derwent Inktense, ink-based pencils and watercolor pencils, which both came as side-effects of my deep-dive into the world of colored pencils. They both sounded intriguing--Pencils you can blend out with water to get rid of the streaks?? What??--and after I checked the Faber Castell Polychromos off my Art Supply Wishlist, watercolor pencils went next. The set of Arteza ones that I got, I like pretty well. After that, since I had at least two watercolor supplies I rather liked using enough though I didn't really know what I was doing, I figured I might start looking into gaining some knowledge on what to do with them. A couple of weeks ago I acquired a book called "Watercolor Workshop" by Sasha Prood because it instantly caught my attention for telling you on one page what to do with an example, and them providing you with a space to give a try for yourself, which is not something that is all that common to me in "how to X" books. This book made me want to procure a set of tube watercolors, and after some poking around on Amazon with a specific budget and requirements in mind, I ended up with a 24 set by Crafts 4 All and an empty travel palette by Meedan to put them in. (As I've come to understand it, this seemed like the best route to go for tube colors; I know myself too well to trust just squirting the paint onto a regular palette every time and not wasting it, especially when it comes to mixing colors, so I went the route of putting some paint in little half-pans and letting them dry to hopefully prevent that.) I won't go too much into detail like a review of that set of watercolors or my tube-to-pan process here, because I want to play with the paints some more to get a better feel for them before I truly sing their praises or condemn them, but so far they're actually working out a lot better than I thought they would, considering they were pretty inexpensive. So far my biggest complaints are A. I'm not crazy about the smell, as it's a pretty "industrial" scent, but I get the feeling a "paint smell" is relatively unavoidable; and B. I wish there were more colors. The range in the 24 set feels pretty balanced out (though one more purple wouldn't have hurt), I just wish there were more in total. (And for all I know they sell a bigger set, I haven't looked into it, but this isn't really a bad thing; I like what I've seen so I want more.) As is maybe obvious, I meant for this to go up closer to Valentine's Day, but my palette didn't come in until the day after, I had to wait at least a day after that for the paints to dry out, and I can only paint so fast. (I had the sketch done on like the 12th, I think, and the line art on watercolor paper on the 13th). And by then I had a couple of other pieces backlogged, so since I had missed my holiday window, I figured I'd just post it at the next available opportunity. (And after I got off my lazy bum to write this description ) I was inspired by some very red-furred kitties on Pinterest for colors and I've been trying to get a bit into hand-lettering, though I didn't get too fancy with that here because I mostly just wanted to play with the paint and see what I could do (and I was also putting a new set of Sakura Gelly Rolls to the test on just how waterproof they were--fortunately they passed!). It's going to be tricky to break my habit of how I like to usually blend and shade with my other supplies, as watercolors just don't behave the way markers and pencils do, but as I said earlier, these were working to my liking much better than I had expected. My little fluffy kitty here isn't perfect, but I do think she turned out quite cute. I was trying to avoid using my other supplies to really let the watercolors breathe and do their thing, but I did have to add a gold border with a Pentel Sparkle Pop because it just needed something. The only real issue with this piece I ended up having is that the physical copy has a nice stain where at some point I wasn't careful with waving my brush around and got a little blop of yellow ochre paint near the bottom right corner. I lifted off what I could, but apparently, I had not noticed it for long enough it did get to settle in a little. Fortunately, I was able to crop it out on the scan, though! I do have one other art piece ready to go for Wednesday, but beyond that, I am hoping to do more with these watercolors and I should have some new supplies coming in the mail this week with a couple of planned test-pieces in mind. (Does anyone else just get this relieved sort of exhilaration from getting new supplies? No? Just me? ) (Also I'm mostly trying to get into a consistent upload pattern, even though I keep missing a couple days here and there ) ____ Artwork © me, MysticSparkleWings ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble | Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram

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theultimateegghead-blog · 6 years ago

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Modest Media Game Reviews 50 post special! Dark Souls

Game – Dark Souls Year of Release – 2011 Developer – FromSoftware Publisher - Namco Bandai Rated - Mature Platforms - PlayStation 3, Xbox 360, Microsoft Windows, PlayStation 4, Xbox One, Nintendo Switch For all sakes and purposes, I have played the PAL region version of the PS3 prepare to die edition. Which in turn means I played the DLC.

Dark Souls, an epic dark fantasy action rpg legendary for its harsh and punishing game play. Dark Souls is tied with Metal Gear Solid 3 and The Legend of Zelda Twilight Princess as my favorite games of all time. I adore this game and have achieved every trophy/achievement there is in this game. However, as a reviewer I will do my best not to nerd out over this title. With that being said, be warned, Im likely to praise this game like how Solaire praises the sun. Are you ready to go on this adventure with me?

Gameplay – Dark Souls is a very challenging and punishing game with a steep learning curve. Even the simplest enemies can kill the chosen undead if they are not careful. The main character has stats that can be leveled up by the player, certain equipment is locked behind stat requirements, which will in turn cause players to adopt certain playstyles. Players who invest in strength, endurance and vitality can become heavy hitting tanks. Players who invest in intelligence, faith and attunement can become powerful mages. The character style, skills and weapon choice are up to the player. The game has bonfires which act as checkpoints, when the player dies they respawn at the bonfire they last rested at. While the distance between bonfires can be large, shortcuts can be opened to make subsequent run throughs easier. Upon defeating enemies and bosses, players acquire souls. Souls serve as both currency and experience, so in some situations you might choose to upgrade a weapon as opposed to leveling up. Most enemies respawn upon the players death or resting at a bonfire, so there will be no shortage in soul fodder. Players may use items discovered over the game via a hot bar. Some items include the estus flask which can restore health, firebombs and throwing knives and special mosses that can cure status effects. This game has a fair share of bosses to challenge you. Some bosses are big and slow while others are small and fast. This game pulls no punches with its bosses so don’t be afraid to look up guides or summon help. Summoning, ah yes, the player has the ability to summon npc’s or even other players to help them fight a boss. To do so, the player must be in human state, which means that they will not appeared zombified and will be granted access to multiplayer. However, some players can invade you and will attempt to kill you. Nobody likes a red phantom coming along to ruin their day. The games level design is generally fantastic, though some areas are frustrating. This is because the game was rushed towards the end of development, leading to a dip in quality at late game areas. In the end though the game quality does not disappoint. It is versatile, challenging and a rewarding experience. It may be frustrating at times but persevere and you will taste victory. Score – 18/20

Graphics – The graphics are ok, but I would not say they are perfect. While the world is beautiful and diverse, some areas have frame rate issues and clipping or low-quality textures. This sadly can impact gameplay, especially in blightown where the frame rate can chug at points. Character models are well designed, but most models lack a talking animation. This is easily ignored however given the fact that you aren’t meant to see the npc’s faces up close. Some later areas have visual stigmas about them that impact the game, such as lost Izalith’s harshly glowing lava. Because of the fact that these issues can impact gameplay I cannot give a perfect score, but I would say that it is a pretty game and overall looks very nice. Score – 8/10

Story – The game shines here with a unique way to tell the story. The majority of what is needed to know is presented in the opening cutscene and presented over the course of the game as well. At face value the story is this… You are a special undead warrior that has been chosen to succeed the lord of Sunlight Gwyn. In order to do so you must travel all over the land defeating bosses in an attempt to prove yourself worthy of entering the final area of the game. At that point you will determine the fate of the world. Simple enough, but then there comes the item lore. Every drop, every piece of armor, every boss soul has lore attached to it. This lore is hidden and must be sought out by the players through reading descriptions or talking to npcs. Various npcs have their own personal stories that you can play a part in. Each location is rich in backstory. With the DLC mounted even more is explored and some of the most massive plot points of the souls trilogy, such as the abyss, is discussed. The notion of right and wrong is subjective and a majority of the story is up to the player to piece together. While some might say it’s a shoddy way to tell a story, I disagree and think it fits the theme of the game nicely. The lore is for you, the player, to discover. Because of this the game has very few cutscenes, allowing for a more smooth immersive experience. Score – 10/10

Replay Value – Subjectively high. In order to obtain everything, all boss weapons and all trophies, the game must be beaten at least 2 and a half times. While for a huge fan such as myself this is no problem, to the casual player, one playthrough might just be enough. So, it really comes down to this, are you willing to go on another long adventure to see the second ending? Or to get a boss weapon you missed? Is it worth the effort to beat the game twice for the platinum? If you answered yes then you will have a good time, if no then you will probably be satisfied after beating the game once. While your stats and most items carry over to new game plus, there is no content locked behind NG+ other than boss weapons or potential secrets that you skipped or missed. However, it might be worth the time anyway, as this game still has a good challenge to offer. Score – 4/5

Music – Wonderful. One of my favorite osts. In this game the majority of music is of the bosses. The only area with background music is the hub, firelink shrine. The music can be haunting and atmospheric, such as Sif’s theme. It can be bombastic and intense, such as Ornstein and Smough’s theme, or it can be beautiful and somber such as Gwyn’s theme. The music tells part of the story and sets the mood for each event that accompanies the song. When music is not playing, the levels have ambiance to fill in the void, or it can just be hauntingly silent. Sometimes a crow will caw or a monster will moan in the distance. The world plays a role in the sound design almost as much as the music. I would totally recommend a listen. Score – 5/5

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Overall – A truly fantastic game that has brought me many hours of joy. From awesome boss fights to amazing lore and world building. It has great music, a great atmosphere and a well-designed game world that gives a unique open world experience. This game is not for everyone, it is challenging, and can be downright cruel to novice players. This is all part of the experience, to say this game is hard would be true. However, I would not say this game is as insanely unbeatable as many make it out to be. Do not let your guard down though, this game tends to punish those who do… Score – 9/10 - Amazing

One thing this game could improve on – Magic rebalance. Magic can be ridiculously overpowered in this game and can quickly render a melee-oriented build obsolete. If you desire the true dark souls experience, then avoid abusing magic attacks.

This review marks my 50th post. I am proud of my work so far and plan to continue doing so for those of you who enjoy it. See you next time.

#dark souls #artorias #fromsoft #Modest Media Review #rpg #dark fantasy #ps3 #xbox 360 #rated m #2011 #special #50 post

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elizabethospeaks · 6 years ago

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Heart of a Dog - Part 1

My writing skills are severely dusty atm so I’m warming up with a short story about Elizabeth and the Ard Skellig barghest which I drew a few days ago. Pardon my writing cobwebs whilst I get back into the swing of it! <3

“What's your interest in the beast then?” The townswoman gave a phlegmy sniff, wiping her nose on the back of her hand and regarding the outlander before her with barely veiled suspicion.

Elizabeth bore the cool interest with dignity, not allowing her genteel smile to slip even as she watched the placement of the silvery trail from the woman's nose. “It's...academic.” The woman eyed Elizabeth again; her eyes clearly falling to the worn velvet of her waistcoat, the mud splattered up her boots and the back of her skirts. “You don't look like an academic to me. And you don't look like a Witcher either. You look more like you slept under a bridge last night.”

The carefully crafted smile still didn't slip; if anything, it brightened. A hand fluttered up to extract a twig from her tangle of black hair. “I take a very active interest in my work; I'm hands on. And besides that, I am certain we share a common goal. If the beast troubles you good folk; then I shall endeavour to unburden you of it, should it be within my capabilities.”

The islander's expression clearly betrayed her severe lack of faith in her capabilities. But she seemed to struggle internally for but a few moments before she reluctantly coaxed herself to continue.

“If truth be told; The beast doesn't trouble us all too much in the way you might think. Its not hurt a soul.”

Elizabeth felt a jolt clench her heart like a fist for a brief moment, a flutter of excitement. “It doesn't attack?” “No.” “Then why liberate yourself of its presence if it means no harm?” The islander looked vastly uncomfortable. “'Tis an ill omen. Surely even a mainlander should see that. It might no have set tooth and claw to anyone; that doesn't mean it means us no harm. And it's disrupting trade routes – it haunts the main road through. Makes folk uncomfortable to make the trip.” Elizabeth's brow furrowed gently by way of agreement. “Yes. Yes, of course; A phantom hound appearing is a cause for concern...most of the time.”

But her mind was racing and barely keeping track of the conversation. This was even more exciting than she could have anticipated. A benign barghest? Surely not. She had to be missing something vital. Just like she was missing this vital conversation. The islander was looking at her with incredulity. “Yes. Well.” She cleared her throat, removing a crumpled notebook from the pouch hanging from her belt and producing a piece of charcoal from behind her ear, “Where does the apparition typically appear?” She looked at her informer with eager expectancy. The vampire had the distinct feeling that the islander thought so little of her competence she was weighing up the morality of sending her back out of the village alone. It was like water off a duck's back; she was quite used to dim opinions of her from the hardy Skelligans. She was quite happy to let the views stand, if not even directly perpetuate them; let them think she was harmless. Being publicly de-fanged worked in her favour.

“Copse of trees south-east of here. Road goes right through it. Can't miss it.”

The copse as it had been described far surpassed such a quaint description. The woodland was a tangled mass of twisted boles, spiralled branches stretching through the spaces between like shirt sleeves being wrung out by a laundry maid. The shapes were beautiful enough that Elizabeth felt the compulsion to reach out and trace her fingertips over the tormented bark as she passed by. But still. There was something unsettling about the contorted trunks; she eyed hollowed out holes burrowing deep into the hearts of the trees as she passed. It bordered on something unnatural.

She felt the hairs on her arms rise as she passed beneath the heavy canopy rustling benignly above. But the wind that raced so unforgivably over the moorlands past the treeline didn't seem to disturb the sanctum of the trees. The birds did not sing. And within the soil beneath her feet Elizabeth felt a familiar weight – this place had seen tragedy and remembered it still. The memories of whatever had transpired here had left their mark, like a smudge of graphite left on parchment long after the words had been erased.

She glanced upwards at what little patches of grey sky she could see through the leaves. She had some time before nightfall – no self respecting phantom would appear until dusk at the earliest. Finding an opportune spot behind a particularly large tree she settled down between its exposed roots, removed her sketchpad and began scribbling away as she waited for nightfall.

Darkness fell on the isle as soft as gossamer, the last fingers of light from the dying sun fading and releasing their grasp on the sky with grace and dignity. Elizabeth barely noticed with her attention entirely on the pages of parchment in front of her as she documented her surroundings, trying to articulate the heaviness of the woodland she had secreted herself within. It was a morose howl rising in the distance that roused her, prompting her to snap her sketchpad closed sharply. Here the birds had not even sung to put the sun to bed; something was very definitely amiss and she needed to keep her wits about her.

She got to her feet, brushing curls of moss from her skirts and peered around the edge of the tree. The road onward stretched into the creeping dark over the gentle rises and pits of the ground in slow coils like a snake through the grass. Entirely unoccupied and very ordinary. She puffed out her cheeks and exhaled. In these situations patience wasn't her strong suit; her gut told her that tonight had momentous potential and she was eager for the fireworks to start.

The moments passed tortuously. Sea fret rolled in from the nearby coast line, cold and humid as it seeped through the cracks and crevices of the forest undergrowth. The wolves had stopped singing. An owl hooted gloomily above but the vampire didn't react, keeping her eyes fixed on the road with baited breath. Perhaps the islander had thought so little of her that she'd sent her to the wrong place, the oppressive atmosphere around this place just a figment of her own imagination. Just as she started to kick at a tree root and mutter mutinously, a subtle shift in the light caught her attention so suddenly she almost gave herself whiplash.

It followed the path with something a little less than purpose. Rather, the beast headed towards her with what could only be described as a dogged insistence. Its footfalls were slow and heavy and yet it made no sound, trailing over the earth as insubstantial as smoke and emitting its own green luminescence as soft as a firefly. Elizabeth scarcely dared to breathe as she watched its progress, her sharp nails piercing her gloves as she gripped onto the tree tightly. It was alone. But barghests were pack hunters; eyeless and savage, rippling masses of muscle and toxic salivating jaws. This creature bore so little resemblance to one that she found herself enraptured. It was...beautiful, really. A willowy hound with long and lithe limbs moving with a graceful gait no common dog would bother to maintain. Set into its dignified head were eyes burning white hot as coals in the heart of a fire.

Elizabeth knew that in this line of investigation an attunement to her own emotions was paramount. And as she watched the ghostly hound progress through the corridor of trees she felt her chest sink with a great and unfathomable sadness. She could see it in the hunch of the creatures shoulders, how its elegant head hung low in a set unbecoming of its carriage. This was no portent of ill will; though it seemed to know the way, in some capacity this creature was lost.

It stopped in its tracks slowly and raised its head, turning those burning white eyes directly towards her. But nothing in her quailed and she did not flinch. As its soft green glow fell across her skin she felt her consciousness strain towards it, desperate to offer alms.

“Let me help you.” She implored softly as she met its gaze.

It continued to gaze dolefully back at her, its silken ears stirring gently in a wind that seemed to blow in a place other than where they both stood. Then silently turned away, picking its way down an overgrown fox track into the undergrowth.

Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder but did not consider for long. She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and stepped out into the road, tracking the eerie green glow further into the heart of the woods.

#Elizabeth #Elizabeth Emily Branwell #My OCs #My Writing #Long Post #The Witcher OC #I have another sketch to go with this but tumblr is refusing to plug it in here #boo

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andrcmedawrites · 6 years ago

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Birth Chart This birth chart report shows the positions of the planets for Sybill . The Sun represents vitality, a sense of individuality and outward-shining creative energy. Sun in Pisces As the twelfth and last sign of the zodiac, Pisces contains within itself a little experience of all the signs. This gives Pisces Suns the ability to identify with people from all walks of life–from all backgrounds–in some way. These individuals are not only changeable and adaptable, they have open minds and tremendous understanding. But Pisces itself is often misunderstood. Pisces Suns may spend a good portion of their lives yearning for understanding, and the other part in a state of divine discontent. Suffering is sometimes glamorized in the Piscean world. Sun in Pisces people are frequently pegged as wishy-washy, but this is all a matter of opinion. What you will find behind a vaguely directionless, spacey manner is a deep person with real dreams. Their dreams are more than getting that picket fence or making it up the corporate ladder. Pisces are tuned in to a higher purpose and their dreams transcend the individual. A deep love for humanity, and compassion that knows no bounds is found with this placement of the Sun. Pisceans are not known to be cutthroat business types, nor are they given to throwing themselves out into the world in an aggressive manner. But make no mistake about it, Pisces can be extraordinarily successful when given the chance to express themselves. The arts, marketing, music, teaching, drama, healing arts…these are all fields in which Pisces can find expression. Their imagination, attunement to humanity, and remarkable intuition endow them with enviable gifts of insight and creativity. Pisces is a sensitive sign–both sensitive to criticism and sensitive to others’ feelings. Easily touched by human suffering, at least in theory, Pisces wouldn’t hurt a fly. They believe in people, are deeply hurt by compassionless human behavior, and have a hard time saying no. Harsh realities are avoided either through escapist behavior or self-delusion; but every now and again reality does raise its ugly head, and hits Pisces over the head. This is a sad time indeed. Pisces retreats into their own world, self-pitying and giving pep talks to themselves (“I will never trust again!”). Rest assured, though, that these periods are rather short-lived and even useful. Pisces seems to derive energy from their (generally short) bouts of self-pity. They come back stronger, with a spring in their step, ready to face the world again, and just as, if not more, compassionate and trusting as they were before. Some might even wonder if Pisces finds pleasure in suffering. Sometimes this is the case, but most of the time, Pisces pulls a lot of creative energy from sadness. Pisces is the poet or artist with angst, although this trait is often more apparent with Moon in Pisces. Some find Pisces’ tendency to be late for appointments, spaced out behavior, and absent-mindedness amount to irresponsibility. Pisces would be shocked to know this, however. Who me? Pisces wonders. Irresponsible? Pisces Suns absolutely care–their love knows no bounds–but their retreats from ordinary life (whether they are as simple as daydreams or actual departures) that they so seem to need every now and again are not always understandable to no-nonsense signs, such as Virgo or Aries. Many Pisces seem almost allergic to things like shopping lists, maps, directions, and instructions, and for some brave souls, even watches – they prefer to feel their way through life than to follow some plan. We find plenty of artists, poets, and musicians with Sun (and other personal planets) in Pisces. Piscean themes are woven throughout the songs of Billy Corgan of the Smashing Pumpkins and Kurt Cobain of Nirvana, for example. Short description: She is compassionate and sentimental. She likes isolated occupations: administration, archives, history. Spirit of self-sacrifice. Weaknesses: tendency to be led astray, lack of experience or inability to apply experience practically. Lethargy, over-sensitivity and emotionalism. Pisces ascendant Libra Sun in V You want to be noticed for your unique and special qualities and your creativity. You are happiest when you are expressing yourself in a special way and attention comes your way as a result. You have a flair for drama and/or sports. You are proud of your fun-loving attitude towards life. As you demonstrate your ability to shine, avoid grabbing center stage all of the time. Your happy disposition is enough to get noticed, but do find creative ways to express yourself, as this is the path to true happiness for you. -143 Opposition Sun - Moon You have an internal struggle between your needs and your wants. You can lack focus and be indecisive as a result. Your ability to be objective is both an asset and a liability, simply because when you decide on one route, you are pulled in another direction at the same time. Something tugs at you, and you begin to question your stance. “But what if…” and “on the other hand…” are statements you can’t help but make, and that might plague you. You are always aware of the opposing point of view and the other side of the coin. 95 Conjunction Sun - Mercury Because your ego and your mind are aligned, you possess much mental energy. You are always in a position to think about what you want, and in many ways, this is an interruption of the will. You are highly intelligent with a great drive to communicate with other. You invest a lot of pride in your intellectual capacities. You may not always listen as well as you speak, however! You might be too busy thinking about what to say next. But you are very curious and although you enjoy expressing yourself, you usually don’t dominate conversations completely. As far as studying or learning goes, you are better off reading the material than listening to a teacher. These traits come from a strong need to take an active role in communications. It is very hard for you to passively listen and absorb information. Your opinions are usually strong and you are an independent thinker. You tend to be proud of your opinions and thoughts, and might easily get a bruised ego if you are not “heard”, if your opinions are pushed aside or ignored, or if your opinions are criticized. You are expressive and possibly a very animated speaker. You are also very witty and others enjoy your playful and sometimes mischievous sense of humor. -129 Square Sun - Mars You possess an unmistakable competitiveness and a “me-first” attitude. The fighter persona is most apparent in youth, when the child is described as a “bundle of energy”, or it is remarked that he or she “can’t sit still”. The abundant energy generated by this aspect is hard to direct in childhood. Later in life, ideally, those with these aspects have learned to channel some of their excess energy into productive avenues–perhaps through career, sports, or any area where competitiveness is considered an asset. Nevertheless, you can meet up with more than your share of conflict, and you can sometimes rub people the wrong way. You are very motivated to get things done, to take action rather than simply talk about something, and to get from point A to point B as quickly as possible. Those who know you quite well might describe you as hot-headed and temperamental at times. You are easily frustrated, and you’re given to impulsive actions. If the aspect is found in cardinal signs, it gives impulsiveness and a short temper. If the aspect is found in fixed signs, the natives can be very hard-headed and willful. If it’s in mutable signs, it gives a restless and frustrated impatience.Essentially, you have faced conflict and are not particularly afraid of it. You have faced having your need to assert yourself blocked. Your parents may have done as much as they could to “tame” what they felt to be excess energy or aggression. In other words, you know all about conflict and blockages, so that when you are faced with a challenge or a roadblock, you don’t run away from it or hide under the covers feeling sorry for yourself. You meet challenges head-on. -132 Square Sun - Jupiter Although your intentions are generally good, you are given to overdoing things. You can easily gloss over realistic details and get yourself into debt, overindulge in pleasures such as food and drink, and promise more than you can deliver. For the most part, you find help for your excesses. Somebody’s there to bail you out, as plenty of people believe that your heart is in the right place. Generally, this is the case, but if excessive behavior becomes a pattern, and you continually face light consequences, there is the danger that you will not learn from your mistakes and abuse the “system”, relying on your friends and family to help you out a little too often. Your reputation for being “good people”, thus, can eventually be used to further your purposes–something that should, of course, be avoided. However, many people with this aspect don’t fall into the trap of losing their sincerity. You are generous, helpful, and charitable. Still, the tendency to live beyond your means is a real threat that you might struggle with much of your life. Another thing to watch for is depression. You tend to go through periods of intense highs when you are excessively optimistic. These periods are so marked that they seem to be unnatural and a fall seems to be inevitable. You can make promises you intend to keep, but have a problem with follow-through. Self-control can be a real problem. Try to avoid gambling altogether. Usually quite knowledgeable and generous with your time, you have many talents that you might take for granted. 387 Sextile Sun - Saturn It is easy and natural for you to accept responsibilities, to lead a rather ordered life, and to apply caution in your financial and business dealings. You rarely jump to conclusions or take uneducated risks. You have a certain amount of patience and enough self-discipline to slowly but surely achieve what you set out to do. Although somewhat undemonstrative, you are generally loyal and responsible people to those you care about. You take your time in most endeavors and generally use a step-by-step approach to most projects–but you steadily reach your goals. You are naturally trustworthy, and you don’t have much patience for those who don’t show respect for others, who take foolish risks, and who lead disorganized lives. 62 Trine Sun - Neptune There is an unmistakably dreamy, inspired, and sensitive side to you. A marked appreciation for music and the arts is present. The connection of Neptune with the Sun, which represents the ego and the will, certainly softens some of the hard edges that might be found elsewhere in the chart, adding a sensitive and spiritual dimension to your personality. You are naturally compassionate. It is so completely natural for you to accept that there is more to the world than what is before your eyes, that you tend to presume everyone must be spiritually-inclined. Of course, you come to realize that this is not the case at some early point in your life. Your attraction to spirituality and metaphysical subjects is usually marked. These aspects favor writers, artists, and musicians. You are sensitive to those who are suffering, although you are not usually taken advantage of. You are humanitarian and may have a special connection with animals. If other aspects and positions in the chart support it, you are not one to dominate others or assert yourself to the point of brashness. You have a fertile imagination, are full of inspiration, and very emotional - all qualities that you may use on the professional level. -185 Opposition Sun - Pluto You may be prone to inner tension and negative, self-destructive behavior. When things are going well, you suffer from fears that something will come along to change that. Constantly worrying that the rug will be pulled from under your feet can easily become a self-fulfilling prophecy. You possess tremendous power and strength–when you learn to accept and use that strength, instead of fear it, you can be one of the most effective, insightful, helpful, and healing person around! At times, you can be intensely dissatisfied with your personal accomplishments and expressions of self. You put a lot of pressure on yourself regarding your own endeavors. You can be quite dissatisfied with your creative self-expressions, and want to hide your expressions from others until you feel the output is “right”. This is largely due to a perceived inability to express or reveal your true personality to others. You struggle with a deep need to control yourself and life itself. You are especially sensitive to criticism, and feel the need to “redo” yourself often. There is a marked fear of losing control, and this might stem from some traumatic event in childhood, or the childhood might have been crisis-ridden or emotionally-charged in general. As such, you can be intensely fearful of, or threatened by, change. This can express itself through attempts to control your life in such a way that you can manage your fears of being taken off guard. Of course, this generally backfires! You have an intense need for privacy at times. The Moon represents the emotional responses, unconscious pre-destination, and the self-image. Moon in Virgo Lunar Virgos find security in the little things in life. They feel most content when they’ve straightened out all the details of everyday life. Many of them enjoy running errands, paying bills, and balancing the books. They take care of these things happily, although some won’t let on. In fact, many Lunar Virgos are quite practiced at nagging and complaining. As long as they are appreciated, however, these people will help you take care of your life, too. They are at their best when they feel useful and needed. If somebody needs help, they are generally the first to jump up and take on the task. Some people with Virgo Moons are accused of being underachievers. While it may be true that Lunar Virgos can lack self-confidence, many are–quite simply–content with living “regular”, unassuming lives. They appreciate simplicity, and are often most comfortable when they’re not getting too much attention from the world at large. Lunar Virgos are easily overwhelmed by pressure and stress. They worry incessantly when there is too much to think about; and they know their limits. Arguably the worst position for a Lunar Virgo is without a steady routine or a simply satisfying job. They need to feel useful, and they best express this by helping others in little ways. They need something to call their own, and the space to do what they want to do. The unhappy Lunar Virgos are fussy and complaining sorts. They are victims of routine and freak out when their plans are not followed. They are restless and nervous, and can’t seem to see the big picture. Probably the best remedy for these people is a job or hobby in which they can express their deep need to analyze, attend to details, and micromanage. These people express their affection for the people they care about in little, but practical, ways. They can be a little stiff when it comes to open, gushy displays of affection. Lunar Virgos are often shy with new people. However, when they are comfortable, they are anything but shy. More often than not, others can count on Moon in Virgo people. They are reliable and trustworthy. Above all else, Lunar Virgos are practical. Others turn to them for help and advice. In relationships, Lunar Virgos can be self-effacing and kind. Some are quite shy in love, and easily intimidated on a sexual level. Many are not very comfortable with their sexuality, but they aim to please nonetheless. The sign of Virgo is very body-aware, in general. If this awareness combines with a lack of self-confidence, Lunar Virgos can be too aware of the parts that make up the whole. This can lead to a tendency to be intensely self-critical. Once Lunar Virgos learn to come out of their shell, however, they can be earthy partners with a lot to give. Some of the most skeptical people are Lunar Virgos. They can’t help but poke holes when faced with others’ blind faith. Their criticism can be maddening, and their insistence on seeing the practical in anything emotional can be challenging, especially if you are the dreamy type. Virgo curiosity shows up big time with this position of the Moon. To some, it can be confusing. Lunar Virgos seem very interested in others’ problems, for example, but can be quite cool and even unsympathetic in the long run. Their advice can seem hard to more sensitive folk; yet Lunar Virgos can be surprisingly delicate when faced with others’ criticism. Virgo Moon people are generally busy and quietly happy when they have their lives under control. They aim for a simple existence, and are often quite content with very little. Many are early risers, ready to take on the day with enthusiasm. They scurry around, keeping busy and managing their life quietly and expertly. As long as their little world is manageable, Lunar Virgos can be a delight to be around. Short description: She has a very good memory. Scientific or medical studies preferred above all others. She is humble and moderate, calm and reserved. Emotional discipline. She is willing to help, devoted and gentle. Weaknesses: servile nature, frequent changes of occupation, gets annoyed, upset, worries. She is too shy. Moon in XII Curious and inquisitive nature, although more of an observer than a person who asks many questions. She likes peace and quiet, being alone. This position of the Moon indicates an emotional attachment and sensitivity to all that is ethereal, groundless, and eternal. As sensitive as you are, you often have delayed reactions to your own emotional experiences. You need frequent moments of solitude in order to recharge yourself emotionally, and this need, while strong, can also lead to feelings of isolation and of being misunderstood. While you are a perceptive person, you are often either flooded with emotions that are hard to define, or completely out of touch with what you are feeling. Either extreme keeps you from truly discovering your emotional needs. Negative expressions of this position are avoidance of responsibility, using hypersensitivity as an excuse to oneself (and perhaps to others) for not participating, or emotional immaturity. You are sympathetic to others’ suffering, but not always emotionally available to help. -193 Opposition Moon - Mercury There is a conflict here between the head and the heart. Your emotions tell you one thing and your mind tells you something else. The result is a see-saw effect: you can be emotional to the point of irrationality at one moment, and logical the next. How to blend the head and the heart is a constant struggle for you, usually because you have a tendency to resist blending them! You love to chat, enjoy story-telling and writing/poetry, sometimes enjoy bending the truth, and you possess a sparkling wit! You are animated when you speak, and have a sense of humor that others appreciate simply because it’s very imaginative. You may be especially adept at satire. People can usually read your mood by how much you’re talking. When nervous or excitable, you talk up a storm. Moodiness is a characteristic, definitely, and an especially subjective nature makes you prone to hypersensitivity. It usually has to do with the fact that you take in so very much from your environment. This is also one of the reasons why you tend to be indecisive. You may swing between irrational and rational thoughts and feelings. It’s pretty much something that takes place “upstairs” in the mind, although others are sure to see the struggle from time to time. You are always interesting, and usually funny. You have a tendency to misrepresent yourself with what you say from time to time, but you’re a charming, if a little kooky, friend. -62 Square Moon - Mars You can be precocious, animated, and passionate. You seek emotional excitement in your life. Although you often project a brave and tough image, your skin isn’t as thick as you’d have others believe. You tend to put up defenses due to your emotionally vulnerable and excitable disposition. Unrest is characteristic, as you are bored by routine and become easily frustrated when life is “too easy”. There’s a buzz of energy surrounding you, and you tend to meet with many conflicts in your life. With the opposition, the conflict tends to be lived through relationships. The passions are quite raw, especially in youth. If you can channel your excitable energy into sports or some other competitive field, all the better. Although you can be a decidedly amiable and interesting person, others always seem to sense your boundaries. Something is bound to get you worked up, and it’s not always clear what that something will be. Your bluntness can be both appreciated and considered offensive, depending on your audience! You are eager to make a personal impact on those around you. It is possible that you are too eager in this sense, and you come across as self-absorbed and difficult to stomach. Patience is definitely not your strong point! Your responses are quick, and your are a passionate person who is usually quite courageous although your energy is sporadic and sometimes wasted. You are sexually responsive. Short description: She is very emotional and is driven to do things by her emotions. She does not think things over or through in a given situation. She is irascible and easily angered or fired up. Marital disputes are very likely, and a heated domestic atmosphere. 80 Sextile Moon - Neptune Positive aspect: She is kind and sympathetic, with a strongly compassionate nature. When in love, she is usually very devoted. In fact, she is devoted by nature, not only in matters of the heart. There is an unmistakably compassionate and understanding side to her nature. She has a natural affinity to music. While everyone enjoys music, people with Moon in harmonious aspect to Neptune respond to music as a vehicle to heal, relax, and to uplift the soul. Naturally perceptive, without even trying she tunes into the feelings of others, and the mood of her surroundings. There is a distinct emotional need to escape into the world of imagination, and to withdraw from others at times when she needs to re-center herself, largely because she tends to “take in” a lot of mixed energies from her surroundings. Strong and sudden “feelings” and hunches can overcome her. More often than not, her intuition is correct, although her imagination is also powerful and she can read too much into a situation as a result. Some laziness is associated with this position. This stems from a natural timidity and sensitivity that is apparent from youth. She may have been labeled “shy” in youth, and family members or friends may have jumped in to “save” her from situations that required boldness or aggressiveness. Thus, passivity was accepted and, as adults, she may be less experienced than most when it comes to reaching out or going after what she wants. 88 Conjunction Moon - Pluto She wavers between a rich and successful domestic life and social success. She has difficulty in succeeding in both. Very perceptive and given to psychoanalyzing people. A strategist. Powerful emotions and intense feelings. 84 Trine Moon - Lilith This aspect favors romantic and sexual relationships, giving charm, intrigue, and intelligence. Emotions are big, dark, and mysterious, but you embrace these things, instinctively understanding and accepting the many sides and complications to your feelings. Mercury represents communication, Cartesian and logical spirit. Mercury in Pisces She sponges up the feelings and moods of people and the environment around her. Moody communication–sometimes very talkative, other times withdrawn. Tactful, doesn’t want to offend anyone. Fertile imagination. Flexible mind, sometimes gullible, but usually simply open to possibilities. Indirect. It can be very hard to pin her down to any one belief or decision. Mercury in VI Medical profession. Serviceable and generous nature. Meets their soul brother at work, or (if not) through family contacts. You are a person who thinks of all the details that others forget. Your mind is almost always turned “on” which can make you a little nervous. You are excellent at sorting things out, organizing, and making lists and associations. With your attention to the details and the mechanics, however, you might miss the bigger point! You are exceptionally helpful and others can count on you for making arrangements, researching, and offering advice. You truly love to feel useful. You might have some traits of a hypochondriac, as you notice all of the little aches and pains that others might overlook. Nervous tension could be at the root of many of your health complaints. Many of you are good at crafts, mechanics, or anything that requires good manual dexterity. -18 Square Mercury - Mars While her spirit is lively, it is also cunning. She often acts without thinking, she throws herself into things and exaggerates - and this can bring certain problems. She is nervous and irascible. She can develop others’ ideas, while they hesitate - she never does: she presses on. -4 Opposition Mercury - Pluto She may be impatient. She likes contradiction. Her arguments are noisy and animated. You are very incisive and aggressive with your opinions. You have a tendency towards fanaticism and often want to impose your ideas on others, sometimes in a subtle manner and sometimes more imperatively. You will find yourself attracted by the occult and other mysteries but it is recommended that you avoid those subjects because they can generate certain fixations or obsessiveness. You must learn to control your impatience and impulsiveness, to think things over before speaking, and to respect the weaknesses of others. 83 Sextile Mercury - Lilith Venus represents an interest for emotions and values, exchange and sharing with others. Venus in Pisces Venus in Pisces people project themselves as dreamy, soft-hearted partners. Everything about the way they flirt promises a lovely time. Theirs is an elusive charm – they are sweetly playful, a little moody, and perhaps a little irregular. They appreciate romance and poetry, and they prefer to “feel out” both you and the relationship you share, so don’t expect too much planning ahead. Their sensitivity can be a little misleading at times. Yes, they are sensitive folk, but lovers may find it maddening that this sensitivity is not only directed at them, but towards all of mankind. Venus in Pisces men and women want you to know that their love is unconditional. They are unimpressed by your status, and love and accept you for all that you are inside. They love the underdog and are attracted to wayward folks, or those in need of a little help. With their romantic view of the world, they can be unreasonably attracted to states of suffering and martyrdom, so they easily get into the role of saving someone, or being saved. Unlike Venus in Libra, which thrives on equality, Venus in Pisces is actually turned on by inequality! They can be rather confusing and hard to pin down as they feel their way through their relationships. As much as they may want to, they find it hard to commit. Many do end up committing, however, at least on the surface. Pleasing Venus in Pisces involves enjoying tender moments and romantic times with them. You won’t always be able to count on them. In fact, you can be sure they will stretch the truth every once in a while. But remember they do this because they fear they might hurt you, and they can’t bear to cause you any heartache. Try to understand them, although that’s never an easy task considering the fact that they don’t always know themselves. And, truth is, some Venus in Pisces privately have a love affair going with the idea of being misunderstood. Try to put up with their apparent lack of direction in the relationship – they are so receptive and open to all possibilities that it is hard for them to commit to any one thing, idea, or even person. These intriguing partners will reward you with a love that is accepting and comes as close to unconditional as humans can get. Venus in VI She may be devoted to sick or poor people. Might work in a medical or social setting, where she meets their partner, who is a great help professionally. Your expressions of love and affection are practical and helpful. Being of service to a partner is especially important to you. In fact, you might go to great lengths to be available at all costs to a loved one. While you may not be flowery or showy when it comes to expressing love, you show your love by your availability, rendering services, doing practical things for a loved one, and other thoughtful “little” things. Many of you are talented at design work, as you appreciate and pay much attention to all of the little parts that make up a whole, with the goal of finding order and harmony in these systems. If you are not careful, you might pass up on true love opportunities in favor of relationships that serve a practical purpose in your life, or out of fear that you might not find better. Selling yourself short may be something that keeps you from going after what and who you want. 144 Trine Venus - Jupiter She is good-hearted, generous and has a good character. She likes well-being, comfort, a life without problems. She has good relations with her circle. She is easy to approach. All the same, she falls in love easily. She has a successful married and professional life. -62 Square Venus - Saturn This aspect sometimes means unhealthy sensuality. She is hard, and does not know how to express her emotions. She is frightened of showing her love, and this leads to disappointments, break-ups, lack of satisfaction. It is likely that she had problems with her mother, who did not know how to love her or give her self-confidence. She doubts, is suspicious and jealous. She will learn how to be happy in love, to be at ease with herself and to control her jealousy in the second half of her life, thanks to an older person, who gives her self-confidence back to her, so she can then trust others. -129 Opposition Venus - Ascendant She goes to excess in her pleasures, frequents doubtful company. She lacks good taste. She is very spendthrift, but spreads her money around her circle. Her friends are more self-interested than sincere. Mars represents the desire for action and physical energy. Mars in Gemini Mars is the planet that rules our drive and passions. In the mutable air sign of Gemini, Mars is a little scattered and unfocused. Easily bored, Mars in Gemini natives need a fresh change of pace frequently just to keep energy levels up. It’s a somewhat odd thing, really. When there’s nothing much to do, these natives are exhausted. But if there’s plenty of interesting things on their agenda, Mars in Gemini natives can be powerhouses! More than most people, these individuals have a physical reaction to boredom. Besides possessing a passion for words, when Mars in Gemini natives get angry or fired up, they use words as their “weapon”. Angry words–some of the most incisive and sarcastic ones–can fly around with the more energetic natives. Others simply talk things through–energetically! Whatever the case may be, Mars in Gemini natives need to get everything off their chests when they’re fired up. In fact, debates are a Mars in Gemini specialty. These natives draw on their sharp wit to win arguments. In general, they can be talkative sorts, sometimes bordering on verbal diarrhea. Those whose charts show more reserve only become chatty when they’re worked up about something or the other. Some people with this position of Mars are quite fidgety. They have much nervous energy. In general, their nervousness and restlessness are at the root of plenty of physical ups and downs. When they’re on edge, they can be nitpicky. Many Mars in Gemini natives channel their energy through their hands. Gemini, after all, rules the hands; and these people often express energy through musical instruments and the like–even video games. Many are attracted to puzzles and games as diversions. These natives are very adaptable, often thriving on change. They often take up many projects at once, spreading themselves thin at times. Sustained interest is not especially common with this position of Mars. Most will benefit from attempting to focus their energies rather than scattering them. However, their versatility and disdain for routine generally means Mars in Gemini natives are busy people. Mars in IX Deeply rooted opinions, which she knows how to defend energetically. At a certain moment of life, she can fight for a particular ideal but might abandon it along the way, being less convinced than at the beginning of its virtue or because she realizes that it is a losing battle. Conflict abroad or with foreigners. -169 Opposition Mars - Jupiter She refuses to accept any guidance. She lacks forethought, acts impulsively and sometimes imprudently, which can cause problems. She wants everything yesterday and uses whatever means necessary to achieve her objectives, even if they are dishonest or not very commendable. Her emotional life is fraught with quarrels and sometimes violent conflicts. -43 Square Mars - Pluto You have a tendency to impose your will upon others, which can cause severe problems for yourself when they react in self-defense. You have a hair-trigger temper and may even resort to verbal or physical abuse when upset. Learning to react to unpleasant circumstances with your intellect rather than your emotions comes with maturity. It is all too easy for you to find something negative about a situation. Avoid issuing ultimatums when you meet an obstacle. Instead, find a way to convince others to work with you of their own free will. Ordinary life often seems drab and uninteresting to you and you must have something that stirs your imagination, some vision or ideal or dream to motivate you. You have a strong urge to act out your fantasies or to live your dream, and you will DO things that others only talk about or dream about. Artistic creation, drama, or other areas in which you can express yourself imaginatively are excellent for you. You do not easily tolerate a dominating attitude in others. You have a healthy respect for power and authority, but only if it is handled fairly. This aspect gives you a somewhat Scorpionic attitude toward your lovers, and it can modify the traits associated with the sign of your Mars considerably. In other words, there is a distinct possessive and demanding streak in your sexual nature. Your approach to love and sex can be quite intense at times. Your sexual desire nature is a very strong one, and you may even use sex as a bargaining chip in your relationships in order to achieve your goals. More likely, however, is a very focused and intense sexual nature. This also adds a very magnetic quality to your appeal. When a woman finds you attractive, it can transform into a near obsession! Your aura is strong and somewhat mysterious. You tend to come across as stronger than you intend. In fact, some people are intimidated by you, and you may not understand why this is so. When you want something (or someone!) you are very determined. For you, it can be “all or nothing”. When you are finished with something, you leave it behind you and there is no going back. You want a deep, soulful attachment on a sexual level. In your love life you do not take rejection well. You fear betrayal and abandonment, and this can skew your perception of your lover. You have a highly developed sex drive, but you must learn to rein in your aggressiveness in this area. Power struggles and control issues may surface often in your relationships. You perceive the cruel edge in people, and understand its source. Self-confidence develops out of self-control in your interaction with others. 13 Trine Mars - Ascendant Jupiter represents expansion and grace. Jupiter in Sagittarius She attracts the most good fortune when she is open-handed and generous, tolerant, and practices what she preaches. Can be inspirational, and find success in travel, education, teaching, sports, publishing, and foreign cultures. Very philosophical, forward-looking, and enthusiastic. Has strong morals. Strongly values freedom of movement and expression. Jupiter in III She has good judgement, a sense of values, an open and optimistic mind, a good education and high moral standards. She likes studying. She is successful in communications work. Her professional work is a vocation and plays a great part in her life. -70 Square Jupiter - Pluto She might be tempted to exploit others. She is rarely satisfied with her achievements unless they are big. She is an opportunist. 126 Sextile Jupiter - Ascendant She likes meeting friends, around a good meal and in a cordial atmosphere. She is pleasant, jovial and engaging. Saturn represents contraction and effort. Saturn in Capricorn She is scrupulous, honest, correct, worthy and respectable. Weaknesses: melancholy, sullenness, disappointment and bitterness. Saturn in IV She needs to be dominated. She has a sense of organization and accepts her responsibilities. She achieves her objectives in spite of slow progress, with many hurdles to overcome. She is persevering and patient. 122 Sextile Saturn - Neptune Her plans are realized in a methodical fashion, she works hard to achieve success. 44 Trine Saturn - Pluto She perseveres, achieves her projects through hard work. -39 Square Saturn - Ascendant Her life is difficult and cramped. She is a worker, but success takes time in coming. She has problems in being open. She accepts solitude, rather than looks for it. Family problems. Uranus represents individual liberty, egoistic liberty. Uranus in Leo She is self-contained, resolute, tenacious. Likes freedom of action and independence. Uranus in XI Her freedom is important to her, even with regard to friends. These are extravagant, original, intellectual. They are not from the same background and have a different up-bringing. -6 Square Uranus - Neptune She lacks will-power and strength. Of a nervous disposition. -15 Square Uranus - Lilith She cannot live a peaceful love life. She will have lots of adventures, lots of love-at-first-sights which will lead her into dangerous territory, will complicate and even perhaps poison her life. Neptune represents transcendental liberty, non-egoistic liberty. Neptune in Scorpio Willing to look beyond the superficial. Neptune in II She may prefer not to attach too much value to money, but if this is overdone, there can be quite a few problems in life concerning money and ownership. She might make money through artistic pursuits, but must avoid the potential pitfalls of putting too much faith in ideas that don’t have enough grounding in reality. Financial advice is important to obtain. 20 Sextile Neptune - Pluto -23 Opposition Neptune - Lilith Love dominates her life. She could lose her head over someone to whom there’s an intense attraction, which can become troublesome, because she loses all idea of reality. If she is not loved in return, so what - she will love for the two of them. With time, if the loved one loses patience, she will have difficulty disentangling herself and she can suffer enormously. It’s best to look to a trusted outside source for guidance in vulnerable times. Pluto represents transformations, mutations and elimination. Pluto in Virgo Research and investigation come naturally. House I is the area of self identity. The ascendant is a symbol of how one acts in life. It is the image of the personality as seen by others, and the attitude that one has towards life. Pisces ascendant Libra Ascendant in Libra Everybody seems to like Libra Ascendant natives. They just come across as nice, pleasant, and fair. Look a little closer at their lives, and these nice people may have had quite a few problems in their relationships. Some of them have had a string of relationships, and it can be hard to imagine why! These natives attract others to them effortlessly. Besides, they simply don’t know what to do with themselves without a significant other. Libra rising generally appear to be smoothing everything over. They have charming smiles, a gentle approach with others, and an easygoing image. Even if they were not endowed with good looks, they are attractive. Most pay a lot of attention to their personal appearance – the colors they wear, their hair, the way they walk. Libra rising people can be enormously persuasive, although they will almost always use a “soft sell” approach when they want to win others over, which is all of the time! A tendency to pass the buck and keep up that “nice guy/gal” image are their worst qualities. However, they can make excellent mediators and will generally be the first to accommodate you. Libra rising natives are usually attracted to competent, active partners. Their relationships are often characterized by bickering or competitiveness until they learn to drop their sweet image once in a while and to stop blaming their partners for everything that goes wrong. House II is the area of material security and values. It rules money and personal finances, sense of self-worth and basic values, personal possessions. House II in Libra Income may come either as a result of an advantageous marriage or union, through artistic expression, or by a very useful association. Partnerships can help further financial goals. Venus by sign and house can show other areas for making money. House III is the area of social and intellectual learning. House III in Scorpio Makes a good investigator because she is very curious, likes researching and does this with a lot of patience, likes to solve mysteries. Knows how to take risks, while being aware of the dangers. House IV is the area of home, family, roots, and deep emotions/sense of self-worth. House IV in Capricorn After working all her life to obtain her objectives and finally having reached that goal, she wants to retire in peace and quiet and to have a retirement full of contemplation, with few tasks, close to nature. As she was very careful with money all her life, she will administer the properties she has acquired. House V is the area of creative self-expression, romance, entertainment, children, and gambling. House V in Aquarius Doesn’t like routine and the banal. She is romantic, full of fantasy and imagination. She is also a friend one can count on. House VI is the area of learning by material transaction. House VI in Pisces Job in commerce. Weak point: the kidneys. House VII is the area of one-to-one relationships such as marriage and partnership, and of social and intellectual action. House VII in Aries Love-at-first-sight, marries without thinking. Doesn’t want to change her habits, so domestic quarrels to be foreseen. House VIII is the area of emotional security and of security of the soul. House VIII in Aries The spouse will tend to spend more money than she earns. Be careful of any haste that could prove dangerous. Drives a car too fast. House IX is the area of learning that shapes the identity. House IX in Taurus Travels but little, no great attraction for abroad. Doesn’t change principles, practically never changes mind. House X is the area of material action. The Mid-heaven represents the work one will do in his life, the place one will take in the world of society. It becomes more important as one grows older House X in Cancer Likes contact with the public, the crowd. Profession that involves meeting a lot of people. Professional success thanks to sense of duty and application to her work. House XI is the area of search for social and intellectual security. House XI in Leo Friends are not always chosen by chance. Even if the feelings of friendship are sincere, these friends must automatically bring something - professional help for example. House XII is the area of education and of emotion. House XII in Virgo

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