#if i am just let me believe. i'm just very attached to the idea of little 12 year old ariadne “ari” jackson meeting mr. d and being like

[nicercymybeloved]

Very attached to the idea that if Percy had been a woman she would have been named Ariadne. Like, I know that Persephone is a popular fanon name for female Percy because it's a nice way to keep her nickname. I've also seen Andromeda used by some because she lives a long life with Perseus in the myths. But Sally would have at least considered it right? Because Ariadne's a popular female figure in mythology, linked to both Theseus and Dionysus, two other famous figures in mythology. She was a clever mortal princess who was dealt a bad hand because her father's arrogance allowed him to think that he could get away with defying a god, just like how Poseidon's arrogance allowed him to think that he could get away with breaking the pact he made with Zeus and Hades. And in the end, Ariadne survived both her family's legacy and Theseus's abandonment, becoming Dionysus's immortal wife in both the PJO universe and in many retellings of the myth of the Minotaur and Theseus in real life. Ariadne got to live out her happy ending just like how Perseus did in mythology, which is the main reason why Sally even gave Percy the name Perseus to begin with. Am I delusional to think that Sally would have given a female Percy the name Ariadne? Who the fuck knows. But I'm so attached to the idea that it literally just supersedes any other name I could have come up with

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

K follow me Astarion just sees tav like loving on children wherever they go and hes like?????

And tavs like ive always wanted my own child but i didn't wabt to ask you with every

This sends poor starion into a crisis does he was children how many

I think I have followed you. Let's see!

So for this one we got a lil time jump, ambiguous and vague setting and timelines with game spoilers present. M/F pairing because that is my go to and pregnancy is mentioned. Vampiric pregnancy also so there is some weirdness there (i made it up no idea if it's dnd accurate). Vague Tav backstory of a wonderful mother and going off to become a cleric.

~

Astarion was well used to your antics by this point. You had a severe lack of instincts linked to self-preservation, which led to a consistent pattern of doing, frankly, stupid shit. Stupid, but kind. Nothing that Astarion hadn't adapted to, after nearly two years of being attached at the hip you became pretty attuned to your lover's personality.

He could even go as far as to say that he had grown to love your annoying predilection for pious morality. Perhaps he loved talking you out of certain virtuous dangers more, but still. He appreciated who you were, he adored who you were. But Astarion was no saint, despite his insistence on attaching himself to one.

Which is exactly why he was far from amused when you signed him up to babysit a couple of brats. All for acquittances he barely cared about.

But you at least had the good grace to look guilty, "I didn't mean to! But she looked so tired and she said their anniversary was coming up and it's not like we got anything for their wedding-"

That was a nice try, one that Astarion wasn't falling for, "We didn't know of their existence when they got married darling. Just because I can't remember their names doesn't mean you can trick me."

"I'm not trying to trick you!" You whined, arms crossed as you pouted. It sure felt like a trick, especially when Astarion knew that you were well-aware how easily he fell for your sulking. Adorable little monster that you were, "It's only three kids and a baby for one night, it won't be that bad! You don't even have to help-"

Astarion rolled his eyes as he sat next to you on the bed, "I didn't say I wouldn't help."

That seemed to do the trick to get the pout off of your face. You perked up immediately, looking at him like you couldn't quite believe it, "Really?"

"Yes, really," Astarion sighed as you tugged you closer. Sure he liked to bitch, but he really would do anything for you. Even extremely annoying things like this, "I'm not going to sit back and feed you to the wolves."

"They're not wolves! The oldest is barely five," You laughed as you let him manhandle you, settling you into his lap, "And I am sorry, I really wasn't thinking. I promise it won't happen again."

Astarion doubted that, not when he was well-versed of your weak spot for children. No matter where you went you couldn't help but fawn over them, not to mention the insane lengths you would go to keep any child safe. It was a complete and utter blind spot, your kindness extending to them all, even the little scam artists and hellions.

It was sweet, if not extremely worrying at first. Astarion had been terrified of you finding out his past. The things that he had been forced to do, the innocents whose lives he had destroyed. But not only did you find out, you were forced to see it. Both of you were, and it had been worse than anything Astarion could have imagined. He had always found a slight comfort knowing that those he captured would at least die quickly, that at the very least they wouldn't suffer the same agonizing fate as he, just an agonizing death. But no, even that small comfort had been a lie. The horror of finding them all down there has yet to be matched. He had never felt more self-loathing, more pure disgust than the moment he had found those children, tortured and pale, all because of him.

How you didn't see him for the wretched thing he was after all that, Astarion wasn't sure. But he was grateful. You were too good for him. A fact that he was devastatingly aware of, but that wasn't going to stop him from keeping you.

He still thinks about it on occasion, despite the fact that he had done all he could to right his wrongs. They all at least had a chance now to have a life worth living, Astarion could only hope that it would be used. Their future was out of his hands now, a small comfort.

But despite his complicated feelings towards children, he was more than capable of handling them for one evening. And in all honesty, he truly didn't have to do much. He was on self-mandated baby duty, because of course you had to help out the infant that would scream bloody murder unless it was being held. Keeping her tucked against him was a move of self-preservation, if he ever wanted to retain his hearing.

Most of the night was spent amused as he watched you entertain a gaggle of toddlers. You were so... creative with the ways you could defuse their antics. It came to you so naturally, nearly like you were a born mother yourself. It wasn't exactly surprising that you were fantastic with children, he had seen it time and time again. Arabella, Mol, Yenna, all of which still wrote you letters, visited occasionally. Staying forever attached, even from a distance.

Now that Astarion thought about it, it was odd that you weren't a mother. Odder still that you hadn't never even brought up the possibility of having children together. You were usually so open with your wants and always encouraging the same from him. Just one more thing he loved about you. But... why hadn't it been mentioned? Astarion had always assumed it was because you didn't truly want any of your own, that you enjoyed their fun innocence while avoiding the more laborious responsibility of raising them.

Though watching you take care of them all, changing diapers and negotiating silly arguments with a soft smile of your face had him rethinking his assumption.

"You're good with them," Astarion said eventually after you had successfully set the older three down for the night, the baby still stubbornly clinging to him, "I don't think there's a child we've met that doesn't adore you."

You laughed quietly, walking over to kiss him softly on the cheek. Your eyes wandered to the sleeping infant in his arms, still holding a piece of his shirt in it's little fist, "You don't seem to be too bad with them either."

"Newborns don't know any better," Astarion dismissed as he tried to put her down in their borrowed crib. Tried and failed, considering how the thing immediately started to whine the second he attempted to pry it's little hand away.

Oh for fuck's sake. Astarion wasn't even going to try and argue. Instead he unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall into the crib with her, seemingly doing the trick of stopping her from waking completely.

When he turned back you were staring at him with soft eyes, looking lovestruck at the simple act of him laying a child down, "Looks like she has pretty good taste to me."

"I don't think your judgment should be trusted," Astarion huffed as he walked over to you, grabbing your hand to drag you to the bedroom. He glanced back at you, his heart nearly skipping a beat from the sweet way you kept looking at him. It had his mind wandering again, those questions still nagging him.

Questions that he didn't have the courage to ask until dead of night, when he had you half asleep against his bare chest, "Have you ever thought of having children?"

He hadn't meant to blurt that out in the middle of the night, but Astarion apparently had a knack for starting important conversations at inconvenient times. Not that you minded.

You just cuddled into him closer, nodding against him with a sigh, "I've always wanted my own children. My own mother, Gods bless her soul, made it all sound so magical. Pregnancy, the early years, puberty, all of it. She loved it all. And I guess it rubbed off on me. It used to be all I could think about, before real life got in the way."

Astarion listened, a little annoyed at himself for not putting the pieces together sooner. You had talked so lovingly about your late parents, how you always wanted to be like your mother. Of course you would want children. How had he not connected the dots?

"But then I went off to the temple," You continued, "I completed my training, went off into the world to do good, blah, blah, blah. You know the story."

"So you grew out of the idea?" Astarion asked.

"Not exactly," You admitted, sounding a little guilty, "But I would never ask that of you love, it's not something you have to worry about."

That-what?

Astarion stared down at you, brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"

"I mean I know that the topic of children is... difficult for you. Considering everything you've been through-"

"I think you mean to say everything I've inflicted on others," Astarion interrupted, unwilling to allow himself grace. Especially when it came to the children of the Gur, "It was much worse for them than me."

You nodded, knowing better than to try and fight him on that particular topic, "I understand, but my point is that I can live without them. You're all I need."

It was comforting to hear, an immediate balm to a brand new set of insecurities that Astarion hadn't been prepared for. But even so... he hated the idea of you sacrificing even more for him. It felt wrong, "But-"

"But nothing," You interrupted softly, setting a quick kiss to his mouth, I'm serious Astarion, you don't need to worry. I'm happy, I love you, and everything is fine."

"I love you too," Astarion murmured, at a loss to say anything else. But the conversation didn't end there.

Astarion couldn't stop thinking about it, even long after the temporary children were sent back home. ou seemed so... sure that he didn't want children, and a week ago he probably would have agreed. But that was back before he knew that he was actively keeping you away from something you wanted. Something you had dreamed about since you were a child. And it felt wrong to be the reason for that, so, so wrong.

He didn't even know if his true feelings on the matter were real. He didn't want children for many of the same reasons he never wanted a partner. The attachment to another was dangerous, he was beyond unequipped to deal with others, let alone care for them, and the entire ideology behind love was ripe for manipulation and heart break. But then he met you and everything changed. Suddenly, caring for another didn't feel like a weakness, it felt like the strongest aspect of his entire self. Taking care of you wasn't an unwanted duty, it was intimacy. Something that he now craved. If all of those steadfast ideals could fall apart simply through meeting you, whose to say he could even trust himself when it came the thoughts around having a child?

Would having one truly be so bad? A little piece of the two of you, alive in the world? And perhaps children were annoying but... Astarion would be lying if he said he didn't have a soft spot for them. He had kept his distance before, but now he was fully confident that he wasn't a danger, no with Cazador burned to nothing bus ash and his own bloodlust well controlled. And it's not as if he was incapable of being a father, worse men than him did it everyday.

It was a confusing place to be, this tightwire of indecisiveness. Confusing enough for him to start a bit of research. He was vaguely aware that it was possible for his kind to breed, but finding out the details was disheartening, to say the least. First he had to parse out the different horror stories of babes eating their way out of their mother's wombs with actual facts, which wasn't exactly pleasant. But the truth was that it was more than possible for the two of you to have child together. It had the potential to either be as noneventful as any pregnancy, with the cavate that the babe coming out looking slightly... dead wouldn't be a permanent state of being. Or it could be as risky as carrying a child could be, with pains and complications galore, even legitimate worries of internal bleeding from the wretched thing prematurely growing claws. Not to mention the occasional, intense blood lust that could occur, an experience that Astarion would prefer you didn't have to go to.

Looking into the reality of the choice didn't help as much as he had assumed it would. If anything it just made the whole situation more real. Even if he wasn't a vampiric spawn, childbirth was risky. Maybe not as risky for you considering how Astarion would move the heavens and hells to get you the best care possible, but still. The thought of you passing, leaving him alone with the child you wanted and would never see, would destroy him. Completely and utterly.

But then again... there was the magical alternative of everything working out just fine. The two of you were both beyond lucky in that regard, considering how you'd overcome mind flayer parasites and fought and won against a near god. It was more than possible that everything would be fine, that you would have a beautiful pregnancy that would end in an even more amazing child. Then two would become three, a family of his very own.

That... didn't sound too bad. Astarion was torn. On one hand, he was almost certain that he was willing to go through with it. Not just because he loved you and wanted you to be happy, though it was the main reason. But also because... he could be a part in making something good. A child that would never suffer the way he did, the way countless others had. One who would be loved, who would have the help they needed for their inevitable unholy hungers. Someone precious for the two of you to fret over, to adore and care for. He... wanted that. Or at least he would if you still did. Now if he could just figure out how to bring it up, maybe something could actually happen.

But luckily enough for him, you did the job for him. He had been pouring over another book dedicated to recording the births of Dhampirs in the area, only to be distracted by you loudly sighing behind him.

"What's wrong love?" Astarion asked, his eyes still scanning the page in front of him.

"Oh I don't know," You sighed, rounding the corner to sit on the edge of his desk, "I just can't help but wonder when you're going to explain why you've suddenly become obsessed with parenting books. And..."

You trailed off, ignoring his surprised expression to read the cover of what was in front of him, "'Vampiric and Mortal Love & The Spawn They Create'. It's not exactly your usual reading material."

Part of Astarion wanted to be surprised that you had already figured him out. He had at least been trying to hide things from you slightly, not that it mattered when you could read him like a book. And he supposed that blatantly reading things like this in front of you would eventually have an effect, even if he tried to obscure the titles.

But that didn't stop him from stuttering through a response, "Well-I, okay. I've just been thinking about options lately. Which you can't really do if you don't understand what they are. Hence the books."

You frowned at him, one leg crossed over the other, "Star, I already told you that you don't need to worry-"

"But I want to worry," Astarion interrupted, deciding that ripping the band-aid off would be the best course of action, "And if there is something I can be doing to make you happier than I should at least consider it."

"I'm not going to force you into this for that," You said softly, reaching out to twine his fingers against yours, "This isn't the kind of thing you do just for someone else."

Astarion was aware of that, there was an important truth to your words. But... "What if it wasn't just for you?"

You paused, your brow furrowed as you stared at him, "What do you mean?"

"I mean what if, and consider this purely hypothetical, what if I wanted one as well. What then?" It was as far from hypothetical as Astarion could get, but by the look on your face it didn't seemed like that needed to be clarified.

You swallowed, looking just shy of hopeful as you played with his hand, "I... well. I guess in that case we would have a lot to talk about."

That wasn't quite the answer he was looking for. He pressed on, "So if in theory, I did want one. Would... you still be interested in having one?"

With me?

He left that part unsaid as he waited for an answer, uncharacteristically nervous as you mulled it over. But you were smiling, bright and wide, giving his hand a little squeeze as you spoke, "I think that would be the only scenario where I would want it. If that's something you wanted."

"I think it is," Astarion answered honestly, done with being coy, "I don't know how, I... I'm not quite sure how I feel about you carrying something that could be dangerous. But... in general yes. I think I want this. I do want this. With you and only you. Whenever your ready."

The next part Astarion did see coming, his arms already open by the time you launched yourself at him. You straddled his lap, kissing every part of his face as you babbled, "We can wait! It doesn't need to be now but-I just-yes! Adoption, childbirth, I don't care. All I need is to have them with you. That's all I want."

"And that I can give," Astarion laughed, delighted at your reaction. He still had concerns, plenty of them in fact, but they were hard to consider when the woman he adored was so ecstatic.

He gripped your chin, chuckling at the whine you let out for him interrupting your onslaught of affection. You didn't have to wait long, not when he directed your mouth against his, kissing you deeply as a new wave of exciting, and slightly nauseating feelings worked through him.

He didn't know exactly what was going to happen in the future. He had no idea if he would be a good father, but he knew that he would try his damndest. He didn't know how the two of you would even procure a child, but he did no one thing.

With you by his side, it would work out. All of it, no matter how hard the road turned out to be. And that was all that mattered.

[melodic-haze]

Hellooo!!

I wanted to ask if you make content about Furina (I love your writing and Furina, so seeing that combined would be the BEST 😻) and if you do, could you write to needy!sub!Furina that after going through all that suffering for 500 years, she just want her girlfriend to take care of her and love her like she always needed?

Thank you!! :33

(and sorry for the bad English 😭)

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Furina x dom!fem!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: None

☆ — NOTES: FIRSTLY THANK YOUUUU I'M FLATTERED YOU LOVE MY WRITING OMG???? And yes, I do make Furina content I love my silly thespian lesbian girlfailure :3 DON'T APOLOGISE DAWG your English isn't bad!!

I'd like you all to know I converted a Furina hater first of all with my extensive knowledge of ouji lolita clothing. But that's not what you wanted to see here

Being Furina's lover would be. Very much in need of constant attention, you right!!! Wish I could generalise it all but this is ME that's making this and ME making this means I have to actually Put My Mind into this 😭😭😭. Being in a relationship with her is NOT for the detached and the unavailable bc of just how needy she is

She's very! Attached to you! I think eventually she does learn to latch off and act independently without fear of losing the ones she loves (read: you), but it'd take a WHILE before she's at fully at peace with herself.......but rn she NEEDS to catch up on YEARS of intimacy

That DOES translate beyond a simple want for companionship however 😄

You wake up in the middle of the night to soft sounds from your beloved, whose back is turned towards you.

"'Rina..?" Your hands reached towards her in an attempt to let her know of your presence, "Babe, what's wrong?"

You see her shoulders still at your touch, her blanketed figure highlighted by the stream of moonlight escaping from the small gap between the curtains. You took it as a sign that perhaps touching her right now was a bad idea, so you draw your hand back.. but her hand darts to hold yours, squeezing desperately as she turns to look at you.

And oh, you could feel your heart shatter at the sight—tears streaming down her face, eyes glassy and a horrified expression that swiftly twists into relief at the sight of you.

What she says after breaks your heart even further as her voice cracks and loses its usual bravado, eyes meeting you and searching for something—reassurance, perhaps—in your moonlit gaze, "I'm not... This isn't a dream, right? You're-- you're here, I'm here, this is.. this is real. Please tell me this is real."

A former archon, no matter the authenticity, is pleading to you as if you were the god. Praying for some form of reassurance that she wasn't going to wake up cold and alone, doomed to be on the outside looking in as she performed and performed and performed for more times than she could ever possibly count.

"Yes. Yes, of--" You swallowed your initial response (saying that 'of course it's real' would do her no good), "I'm real. This is all real. And I am not going to let you go until you believe it yourself."

"I need-- I need to feel you, to know you're not just saying what I want to hear," her free hand frantically went underneath your shirt, grasping onto your waist as she ducked her head and mumbled into your collar. You could feel fresh tears dampen your skin.

"..Are you sure?"

"Mhm."

"No, no, come on." You gently combed through your hair with her fingers, "Look at me."

No answer.

"Furina. Please."

..It takes a little bit, but she does end up following through.

"Are you completely sure? I don't want to do anything if--"

"Yes. Yes, I am."

"..Okay." You moved above her, placing your knee in between her thighs, "But if you need me to stop or you want a break, do not keep quiet."

"Thank you."

NeedneedneedNEEEEED to take care of babyyyy :(((

She's veryyyyy needy PLEASE take care of her. NO rough sex this time, I need her to be treated juuuust like the girlprince that she is :((((( which means giving her so much love to the point where she CANNOT handle it❗️❗️ Poor girl doesn't know what to do when she's been basically in isolation for so long, only to now have someone so undeniably special to her REASSURING her that she's not going to be alone. If that meant overwhelming her and winding her up in the best possible way, well. Who's complaining, really 🤷‍♀️

Shower her in kisses, worship her body. She might be ticklish at first (which is good bc it distracts her :3), but then you get to more sensitive spots on her body and it has her bucking up into you, even tearing up at just how utterly devoted you're being to her

HOLD HER HANDS. OHMYGOD. Keep her laying down as you finger her, let her watch your desire for her translate to reality, let yourself feel just how close she wants you as she tugs you even closer while begging for more. Whatever baby wants, baby gets 😊😊😊😊😊

"Good girl.. good girl, there you go, just... Mmm, keep sucking me like that-- fuck you're so tight, you needed this, didn't you?"

You ask, and yet you expected no answer from her. Why would you, when you had stuffed her mouth with one of your tits, offered it for her to do whatever she wished as your fingers prodded and explored the insides of her wet cunt?

By god, she was trying her best make the most of what she was given, interchanging between her tongue swirling around your nipple and her lips suckling as if she were starved.

And perhaps she was, with the way she had grasped onto you so tightly as you brought her to the peak over and over again in an effort to show just how much you treasure her just for who she is.

Along with the fact that she was here in the present, sharing this moment with you.

You see her eyes go glassy again (it was hard to count just how many times it's happened throughout the night, not like you cared to), and you press a tender kiss on the crown of her head—a stark contrast from your hand's harsh motions, "Let it all out, baby... Let me hear you."

Her mouth lets go of your nipple as she let out a cross between a sob and a dumbed-out whine, her hand moving as a stand-in to squeeze your chest. "Ffffaster, pleeease-- yesyesyesthank you--"

"You're still so polite, you lovely little thing!" You curled your fingers up, in the same direction at which her hips rose up to, "I'll show you just how much I appreciate all of you."

By daybreak, you know your loving partner, however insecure she is now due to the lasting damage done to her after hundreds of years of doing nothing but perform to a grand audience with a role that is much too big and lonely for herself, would be more than assured that she is now accompanied by the present—she is accompanied by you and those who she deems special.

After all, if you were nothing but a dream, then however could she truly feel the raw sensation of every overstimulated nerve in her body?

If this were a dream, then however could she truly feel, for that matter?

Gotta GOGOGO until she's way too exhausted to go on. Furina is built for extensive dramatics, which means that she's going to have stamina, but she wasn't built to FOCUS on stamina, so at some point she Does pass out. Doesn't help that she's so unbelievably touch starved to the point where a LOT of her body's Extremely sensitive to intimate touches soooooo 🥰🥰🥰

And by the end of it? I pray to fucking GOD you both cuddle. She will forever be little spoon so hold her, have your legs all tangled together and make sure she can feel your warmth and the way your chest expands whenever you breathe :3c if this is a dream, then may it be a long-lasting one for the both of you🫶

[mythvoiced]

Maybe he does do it on purpose.

Appear like a whole person stuck behind so many walls of glass that María can only assume her perception of him to be somehow distorted.

She envisions them in a room - similar but different to this one, mutilated by the same rich smooth walls but not quite as glimmering not quite as feigned not quite as stuck in its play-pretend to not reveal its ugly reality - all the Victors, all the Survivors.

She envisions them in a room most eerily similar, if not a direct copy, of the training halls. The same coloured walls, the same echo to a footfall, the same smells (sweat turned putrid with the acrid scent of fear, anxiety, desperation, hopelessness, cowardice mixing with the ferocity of an animal ready to fight its last fight, to gnaw at its own leg to escape the trap and to maul at anything set in its path).

None of the equipment, or the boards, or the chatter of gamemasters, the scents of their rich food wafting over until it reached even María's nostrils and made her sick, the hollowing pit of her stomach when she'd refused to eat a few days just to be defiant curling and coiling and twisting on itself every time she heard the sound of fish meat giving or pig skin sliding off its back.

Just them, just the Victors.

In a dark grey, blue-ish room full of bright, white lights.

Patrick stands, prim and proper, somewhere miles away from María. She doesn't connect with what she looks like, how her hands feel, but she sees the others. And she sees the distance, she sees the vague silhouette of a gentleman, backlit to cover his face with shadows.

Glass upon glass upon glass between him and the others.

Devora, Devora appears in a similar manner. Terrifying, and somewhat clearer, closer, but even though no shadow blocks her face, her features are hardened like a stone mask, and María can't read them any better than Patrick's.

She starts pulling at a string coming lose where her dress tightens around her waist. Capitol garments are the finest among the finest, imported directly from... from her...

Home.

María's gaze flickers up. It stills on the smile on his face and one of the glass walls sizzles away. Irrationally enough, the answer displeases her. And pleases her to lengths she can't hope to begin to describe. She's glad. Someone important is someone who can keep you alive.

A sense of responsibility towards another, towards their feelings, is perhaps the most violently effective reason to stick around.

That, and María's sense of... cowardice? Or the metaphorical stomping of her foot on the ground, petulant and loud and wailing like a child who doesn't understand how to express her hurt and lashes out?

Her frown deepens a little at the choice of words.

"You sound like you're talking about... a kid or a pet," she honest to fucking god hopes it's not the former. She'd assumed it was a woman. The way of the world, always assume it's... that kind of love. She can't tell if it's because her parents valued it like no other form of love or because of the stories they teach young girls, about how little else matters.

Funny thing to teach kids still, when at least one girl will get brutally killed each year.

Or be forced to brutally kill.

She thinks of Victors' personas, thinks of herself, thinks of Devora.

She scoffs, her head turns away like she can't move it far away enough. Out of her peripheral, out of her entire vision, half intended to pretend she can't still feel him nearby, hyper-vigilante as they all are.

Now she wishes for some extra walls of glass.

Why does he get to ask- why does he have the guts, and she doesn't?

"Only parents who blame me for winning," she twists the string around her forefinger and pulls until it threatens to slice into her skin, and snaps. Fine garments. María is just particularly good at destroying fine things.

No, that's not quite right, though, is it? They don't blame you for winning. They beg you to stop acting like you lost.

"They want me to go home and be grateful. They want me to be grateful," she takes a deep breath, fills her lungs until she wants them to burst, and exhales in one sharp breath.

"Nothing to look forward to about that. I imagine... Sun doesn't ask that of you, hm," she glances and turns her body to face him. "I don't want to... keep having to figure out how to make it easier. I want it to stop," her features contort, a grimace dragged and yanked at by helplessness, by the visual representation of screaming into the dark to have somebody, anybody hear her. "That makes sense! It makes fucking sense, who the fuck... I don't get it, I don't get you, with your... correct answers and correct way of appearing and correct way to act and... how you don't burst."

maría. ➜ Victors, at their core, are always sharp edges pressed against soft insides. Patrick would take it a step further, however, and like cherries left out for too long, they’re all ROTTEN to the core.

There’s a reason they all survived their games.

No one wins just by coincidence.

So it’s no wonder most of the victors never return to the lives they held dear once before. No wonder their loves ones fall away from them, one by on like flies in the dead of the summer. It’s safer for both parties. Easier that way too.

But María doesn’t accept that, does she? With how she went mute during the 74th Games, one would think her time in the arena would have forever silenced her.

But it didn’t. She didn’t- like the martyr herself, or at least what Patrick has been able to glean from the figure- the Capitol has always been stingy about providing information about the Time Before- she picked up her ‘sword’ and hasn’t stopped swinging since then.

Even if María, alone, is the only one to shamelessly express her hatred of the games, she’s truly not that much different from the others. Once the fanfare dies down, they become eyesores to Panem. Victors, ephemeral figures to be worshipped become survivors- ugly, scarred, but alive. Heroes and monsters simultaneously.

Neither the Capitol nor the District knows what to do with people like that. And María makes sure that neither can ignore her. And people like her- the truth that has built the foundation of Panem itself. She won’t be silenced.

Her sharpness, however, is unexpected. With the way she flings herself into danger, you would think she’d do the same in one-on-one interactions. But she’s wary here- scared and vulnerable, but curious and brave all at once. She’s still so young. Sometimes he forgets she’s not even twenty.

He takes a deep breath before smiling a tad more genuinely this time.

“Yes.” He answers. “She is.” I wouldn’t be here if not for her, he doesn’t add. They don’t need to dwell on the suffering, not today. “Sun doesn’t like being alone for long periods of time, so it would be her preference too.” It makes going home easier, he also keeps to himself. “Do you have someone at home too? It’s easier to get through the Games when you have something to look forward to.”

[lilystyles]

comfort.

part three of the no strings attached series by @lilystyles

no strings attached masterlist & main masterlist xxx

authors note the long awaited part three!!! you guys are literally the best omg. all the love for both parts has been amazing since i'm so new to tumblr!! can't believe it :))) kisses and hugs, enjoy part three and follow me to see the other parts coming soon! sorry if this took some time, uni's kickin my ass.

brief description y/n calls harry drunk and scared, harry picks her up and helps take care of her. the next morning y/n worries she'll scare him off, but of course, harry eases those worries.

warnings! mentions of sex, swearing, and alcohol abuse, overall just a mature read. anxious girl reader moment (real). FLUFFY ASF!! around 4.5k words.

drunk!inexperienced!virgin!reader x fwb!harry

* * * * *

“Hello?” A crackly voice spoke into Harry’s phone.

The familiar voice of Y/n made his eyes snap open. It was an odd, long, 011 phone number; he was confused why her little contact wasn’t on his screen. It was this recent photo of her lying on a rug in just one of his shirts listening to records. He was still half asleep, all foggy and confused. Her call had woken him up from a deep slumber. He honestly thought he might have been dreaming for a moment, her voice was all distorted.

“Love, is that you?” His voice came out all deep and gravelly.

“Harry?! It’s Y/n!” He could hear noise in the background of her, her voice was warped and all crackly.

“Are you alright?” He said quickly sitting up from his bed, she never called on a random number. Something must be wrong. His knuckles rubbed along his eyes, trying to wake himself up. It was pitch black and freezing inside his room.

“My phone’s dead!! I’m at some club, you’re the only number I knew off by heart! Can you come to get me? I’m a bit scared and I’m stranded!” She was still shouting, he could hear people shouting and music in the background. She could hardly even hear her own voice over it all.

Harry looked at the time on his phone. It was around 1 AM. “I’m coming now, Y/n. Where are you?”

“Some place called The Swan!”

He had already slid some shoes on and began to race to his car. “I’m comin’ right now, I’m gettin’ in the car. Can yeh wait with one of tha’ bouncers or somethin’ until I’m there?”

“Good idea, H. Okay, see you soon. Drive safe please.” She sounded very drunk. The phone made a slamming noise when she ended the call, it must have been a pay phone.

Harry had to stop himself from speeding to get her. He tried to breathe. She was scared, and that unsettled him. He knew that she didn’t need protecting, but drunk women alone were vulnerable, he wished it wasn’t so but he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to awful scenarios.

The Swan was this really dodgy nightclub in a dodgy neighbourhood. For some reason, their friend Olive tended to favour it for the free drinks on Friday nights. She must’ve roped Y/n into going there tonight. Harry had gone to a business meeting that evening so they hadn’t been able to hang out, he’d called her to tell her. Y/n said that was okay and that she had plans anyway too. 

This must have been the plan. 

When his car arrived outside the strip of clubs he parked in a taxi zone, and quickly got out not caring whether or not he could park there. He looked around the swarms of people trying to find her familiar head of h/c hair. He was still in sleep clothes, this grey pair of shorts and a shirt that belonged to Y/n actually. It was this baggy old pink one with Spice Girls on the front it fits him more tightly than her. 

His shoes were slippers and socks and he had a hoodie over his head. When he got closer to the entrance he saw her. 

She was sitting on the floor beside two big burly bouncers. Her feet were bare and the heels she had on were in her hands. The dress she was wearing had ridden up a bit as she stared off into the distance, drunkenly. She hadn’t seemed to noticed her undies were on display or that her straps were falling down her shoulders. Her heels were off and she was sitting them in her lap.

“Y/n.” He said in relief, glad he’d made it here quickly enough. She was in a right state. 

She looked up, smiling all bleary-eyed. Her mouth was in a wide-open puppy dog grin.  “Harry!” Her arms lifted up for him.

He laughed feeling better now that he could see she was all okay, nothing had happened to her. He bent over slightly to pick her up into the hug that she was wanting. She dropped her shoes as he lifted her but she didn’t seem to care slinking her arms around his waist and leaning into him.

She squeezed him tightly. “Thanks for gettin’ me,”

“Of course, love. Am I really the only number y'knew off by heart?” He asked pulling back slightly to see her face.

She blushed looking down at her feet, all shy.

“Other than Mum.” She replied, finally meeting his eyes. Her Mum lived back home though, so Harry was the only person she had to call and truthfully the only one she wanted to call.

He smiled kissing her temple, brushing some hair away from her eyes. Her mascara was smudged and her lipstick had faded leaving her lips stained a slightly rosy colour, but she still looked beautiful.

“Don’t get cocky. It’s from all those times I’d call you in Uni to pick me up.” She replied, her words slurring slightly.

“Have you seen Y/n?” Asked Harry, in a gruff tone. 

Queenie, Y/n’s friend who’d invited her to the party, was smoking a joint quietly outside on the front porch of the university sharehouse.

“I think she’s inside, last I saw she was dancing on the kitchen table.” Said Queenie with a breathy laugh, blowing out a long cloud of thick white smoke. The potent smell hit Harry’s nose and he wished he was back home.

He just nodded, sighing. It was probably about 3 AM right now. He’d been asleep but their friend James called him up saying Y/n needed to be picked up and brought home. She was a bit out of control. 

Harry knew it was of roommately and best friendly duties to pick his girl up. She’d done it to him too, many times. And he did worry for her when she was out drinking, especially when he wasn’t there to watch out for her. Even in school when they’d get drunk off stolen alcohol in each other’s backyards he watched out for her always.

 James would always say it was because he was like a jealous boyfriend, but Harry denied that saying it was simply because she tended to end up passed out on the road without his watchful gaze.

When he got inside suddenly his pyjamas felt too hot even though it was a chilly night. There were many people swarming the house, he made his way to the kitchen saying hello groggily here and there to friends. 

When he got there he found Y/n dancing along to the beat of some awful song everyone knew the words to. Her hips were swaying and the exposed skin that her low-waisted jeans offered looked edible, she looked so good even with half a bottle of tequila in her. He fought away that thought and blamed his tired eyes.

Her cheeks were flushed from her drink and she had this toothy smile on her face.

“Y/n!” He called over the music, looking up at her on the table.

She opened her eyes looking down at him. “HARRY!!” 

He smiled, and suddenly waking up at three had been worth it, and coming to get her was no problem. “Hi, love!”

She made grabby hands at him. “Come on! Get up here! Dance with me!! I missed ya!”

How could he say no?

He didn’t say anything, he just let go of her to pick up her shoes from the ground.

Her arms were wrapped around her body like she was cold. 

“Are y’cold?”

She nodded her head. He quickly took off his zip-up hoodie and put it on her, zipping it up for her. He was rolling the sleeves for her because it was too big when her hand fell onto his chest gripping his (her) shirt.

“You’re a thief!” She teased. “Not my Spices Girls shirt, Harold!”

He just smiled, pushing some loose hair behind her ears. “S’cute! I think I look good in it. Don’t you?” 

He’d look good in a paper bag, but the real reason he wore it was that it smelt like her. The shampoo she used, her perfume, and that something that was just her natural aroma. He liked how worn it was, the soft feel of it, and how it had faded from so many years of sleeping in it. She wore it a lot when they were roommates too. But she’d had it since she was little. The once vibrant pink had paled to a babied pink hue.

Honestly, he’d been sad they couldn’t hang out that evening. He put it on to help him sleep.

“You always look good.” She rolled her eyes as if it was annoying. And sometimes it was, how did he look good in the old raggy-stained shirt? She would never know. Magic. He was bloody magic.

He started taking his slippers off. They were black slip-on ones. She frowned at him. “What are you doing?”

“Put them on. I don’t want yeh’ cutting yourself on tha’ glass.” He said softly. Her heels were still in his hands, looking dainty in them. 

She smiled softly before sliding her feet into the slippers. Her feet ached from those ridiculous shoes, she was glad to be rid of them. His sock-covered feet were on the floor. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. Home?”

“Home.” She nodded. 

He made sure he had her purse too before opening the car door for her and placing the bag and shoes by her feet. She slid in and Harry even did her seatbelt up for her, before gently shutting the door. When he got in beside her she smiled, glad to be with Harry. She’d missed him, it had only been one day. But they had been inseparable at the minute.

His car smelt of tobacco, mint, and a spicy woodsy smell. Just like him. He had a vanilla-scented air freshener and a charm of jade beads hanging on the mirror. 

“Can I put some music on, H?” She asked turning to him. Her eyes stared up at him. He handed over his phone unlocked.

She opened Spotify and put on some Oasis. Hitting shuffle it landed on ‘Married With Children’ and she sighed. “Remember when we used to listen to Oasis at my house?” She asked. 

Growing up Y/n had the most CD variety and all the gang used to go over and listen; when Y/n’s parents were away they’d smoke and drink with this album on in the background. It always made Harry feel very nostalgic and it always reminded him of her. Even when they had drifted his hands itched to ring her if he ever heard it on the radio.

“Of course, you loved bloody Oasis.” He replied, smiling at the memory of 14-year-old Y/n. She had these colourful dresses, ratty sneakers, and an Oasis obsession. She just grinned over at him in reply, humming the words of the song. He could see that girl inside her even now, and Y/n could still see young Harry who was all dimples and laughs underneath the rockstar beside her.

“Yours or mine?” He asked gently as pulled up to a red light. 

“Yours, please. S’closer and I want your comfy bed.” She had been dreaming of his big grand bed, it was all white, fluffy, and fresh and it smelt of her Harry. She wanted to curl up in there, she’d been feeling a bit emotional recently. She thought her period might be coming soon. So all she wanted was to sleep in his arms and his very comfortable and luxurious bed.

And she liked when she woke up at his house and she’d find him sitting on the couch drinking his tea, as always he was awake before her, waiting for her with some pastries or big plates of bacon and eggs. It was like being in a bloody hotel!

He nodded, she looked so sleepy beside him. “As you wish.”

The drive was quick and quiet beside the low humming radio.

When the car pulled out the front of Harry’s large house he entered the security code into the gate and made his way inside the driveway. When he parked the car and turned off the engine, he looked over to find her very much asleep.

He sighed softly, letting himself take a moment to stare. Her eyes were shut, fluffy eyelashes on her cheeks, lips all pouty and soft. She looked so calm and soft like this, it made her look like an angel. An angel in clubbing clothes. He knew he wanted to get her inside and change her into something comfortable and get her safely to sleep, but he wanted to enjoy her beauty for a second.

“Bun,” He whispered his hand touching her cheek. She leaned into his touch, still asleep. “We’re home,” he said slightly louder. 

Her eyes fluttered open, and she just nodded. He got out and walked to her door, helping her out. He grabbed all her things, locked the car and then grabbed her hand to guide her inside. When they stepped inside Harry was glad to be home. 

He then guided her upstairs to the bathroom motioning for her to sit on the toilet. She did so happily and he opened his drawer grabbing some makeup remover and cotton pads, Y/n had a habit of falling asleep in her makeup so he’d bought this so she didn’t have to at his house. 

He soaked the cotton pad with the remover and stepped closer to her, pushing her chin up slightly. She smiled at him sleepily. 

He smiled back. It was silent, but they didn’t always need to talk. They’d never needed to talk all the time, that wasn’t their style. 

He gently pressed the cotton pad on her skin and removed all the makeup around her lips, cheeks, and forehead. It took a few cotton pads and then he finally did her eyes, she looked like a panda for a second and he giggled at her. 

Her hand had crept up onto his hip under the shirt, her nails gently scratched the skin there and she saw a peak of the fern tattoos. She loved those tattoos, they had to be her favourite. When she’d pleasure him she loved kissing along those tattoos and when they cuddled on his couch and her head was on his lap she would trace along them. They were just fucking so sexy.

He liked her tattoo too. He was just as obsessed with every inch of her, but he loved that she had gotten it with him in mind. He felt they’d always be connected till the end of time.

Once he had gotten all her makeup off her, he used a wet cloth to wash her face. She felt nice and clean. Harry knew just how to take care of her. He handed her a hairbrush she left here and she quickly brushed her hair before tying it back away from her clean face. 

“Y’want your shirt back to sleep in?” He asked pinching the pink material. 

She shook her head. She had started to sober up, but she was still looking sleepy, “Looks better on you, Harry.”

He gave her the pink toothbrush he’d bought for her for when she slept over. She cleaned her teeth. He waited, leaning in the doorway, watching her with droopy eyes. He was starting to feel sleepy too.

She followed him to his bedroom, her arm wrapped around his waist as she pressed her cheek onto his back. He loved her like this, they already were quite physically affectionate but that was usually Harry initiating it. But drunk Y/n loved to touch him, he’d always known that. She was the same in uni.

When they made it to his room he opened his cupboard. Grabbing a jumper he wore earlier that day and a pair of clean boxers. He handed them to her and since she was drunk, and they had started to see each other nude more often she had no shyness in taking off her dress and Harry’s jacket. She threw it to the floor before she finally took off her bra and undies to slip into Harry’s clothes. The navy jumper smelt of him and she loved that. 

The whole room smelt of him. She took his slippers off and left them by the foot of the bed.

“In ya’ get.” He gestured to his messy thrown sheets. She quickly crawled up to the pillows before wrapping herself in his big fluffy duvet. He turned his lamp off and got in beside her with a sigh.

“Thanks.” She whispered looking up at him. 

He just gave her a crooked smile, all dimples. “Of course.”

She moved closer to him resting her head on his chest.

“Sooky pants.” He teased, arms still wrapping around her. 

She didn’t reply, just kissed his chest. It made his cheeks heat up. She made it hard for him not to feel like this. Did she even realise? He would do anything if it meant he got some of her. Even if she didn’t want to date him, he was happy with anything. Any piece of her was enough to keep Harry.

The two fell asleep quickly, wrapped together in each other’s soft touch, they hardly moved at all during their sleep. Feeling peaceful and warm on that chilly evening was enough to make Harry sleep in longer than usual. 

Saturday mornings usually consisted of him going for a run, grocery shopping, calling his Mum or Gemma. But this morning he slept through the sunrise and all the way until 7:00! Harry was honestly amazed, it’d been a long time since he slept in until then. He looked down to find Y/n still buried in his chest, and couldn’t bring himself to move.

After an hour of drifting in and out of sleep, his bladder caused him to get up. He tried to be gentle but Y/n stirred. He placed her gently back but she made a little whine, arms grabbing his. 

“I’ll be right back, Love.” He whispered, kissing her forehead. She let go. 

She opened her eyes, the curtains were half drawn and but it was a rather dreary London morning. Didn’t seem to be raining yet, but thick grey clouds covered the sky so it was practically dark in Harry’s room. She felt awful, slightly hungover, mainly just sleep deprived. She felt tired and sore, kicking off the white duvet she looked down to find a big red blotch staining Harry’s white sheets.

She looked to see it all over her thighs too. “Oh shit!” She gasped. She was so embarrassed. She wanted to cry. She ruined his sheets, his clothes, and oh god. What if he was grossed out? What if he found her digusting? She wasn’t exactly thinking rationally, but she wished she could’ve gotten it another time. Why now?!?!

Her panic was interrupted by Harry coming back from the bathroom. He had two steaming mugs in his hands, all smiley. Happy to see her up, thinking maybe they could go for a walk today. There was a local park nearby. He thought it could be cute, maybe they could get breakfast at a nearby cafe and go for a stroll. Y/n had some study to do but Harry was good at making sure she took enough breaks. She had a habit of overworking herself.

He stopped smiling when he saw her panic and glossy eyes. “Y/n, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry.” She said, tears spilling from her eyes. He frowned, he hated seeing her cry. He walked closer to the bed placing the two teas on the bedside table and finally saw what she was talking about. She must have gotten her period in the night or early this morning.

He shook his head. “Don’t be sorry, baby, it happens.”

She placed her head in her hands, body slightly jolting from her sobs. He quickly wrapped her in his arms, rubbing her back. “It’s alright, I promise.”

“But I-I—” She hiccuped, pulling back slightly,“—r-ruined y-your sheets, Harry.”

“No you haven’t I’ll go wash them, it’s not a problem. It’s only sheets.” He caressed her head, pushing back stray hairs.

“What about your clothes?” Her lip quivered. She felt awful. So guilty.

“I’ll wash those too, Petal, s’fine.”

She frowned. “I’m so sorry. I know it’s gross.”

He frowned deeply. “S’not gross, it’s natural. Y’can’t control it, Love.”

She didn’t say anything, just looked down at the mess on the sheets and her legs. 

He kissed her forehead. “M’ gonna run you a bath, get some new clothes f’ya, and then I’ll get y’whatever breakfast y’want.”

She looked up, smiling gratefully. 

“What stuff do y’need? Do you need any pain relief?” He pulled out his phone and wrote down the list of things she needed. 

She felt so lucky, Harry was so sweet about it. Listening to every detail and asking questions.

He then ran a big bubble bath for her, lavender scented soap filled the room. He dimmed the lights and checked the temperature of the water with his hands. It felt just right. After he turned the water off he got a big fluffy black towel for when she was done. 

She stripped off his clothes telling Harry she’d wash them after she had her bath but Harry beat her to it and did the sheets and clothes all in one go while she warmed up and cleaned herself.

While she relaxed he did a few things around the house, including bringing her in a tea and his laptop to watch some Friends on. She needed something that didn’t involve thinking. 

He gave her a peck before leaving to buy her some pads and tampons, and the specific pain relief she wanted. 

Harry will admit that since gaining money he tended to go a bit over board sometimes. He came back home with enough pads and tampons for a year and lots of other things; including her favourite snacks and chocolate. 

When he came home from shopping he found Y/n relaxing still in the bath, eyes shut, as Friends played in the background. She opened her eyes, she looked a bit ill. She sometimes had really bad period pain. Today was one of those days.

He gave her a little haul of the things he bought. “I got tha’ ones with daisies s’on like y’asked.” He said shaking the box with the daisies. “Here’s the pain medication.”

She silently wondered if this is what a boyfriend would do. Her inexperienced brain made her question her sanity. Maybe this was normal for friends with benefits. She had literally nothing to base it on.

When he was done showing her he put them on the sink and Y/n told him she was ready to get out. He quickly shut the door giving her some privacy before grabbing some clothes for her to wear. 

He found a big black jumper with ‘Pleasing’ on the front, she loved this one (always knicking it), a plain white shirt of his that he wore to the gym sometimes, and a pair of black tracksuit pants with the drawstring so they would fit her well. He also found a pair of fluffy socks and had even bought some cotton underwear for her so she didn’t have to wear his boxers. At this point, Harry kind of wished she had a drawer here for her stuff. He liked having her here, and it might make things a little easier.

He knocked asking to come in. She mumbled a ‘come in’, and he did. She had wrapped herself in the towel. 

He handed her the pile of clothes, stroking her cheek. Her hair was damp letting the water fall over her neck, back, and shoulders.

“These are all clean and I bought some undies from the shop, so you should have everything. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Thank you, Harry.” She said softly, eyes scanning his features. His eyes looked so green in the dim darkly lit house. How did he look so good right now? He was in casual lounge clothes. A pair of grey tracksuit pants that made him look muscular and a loose black long-sleeve. He looked so pretty watching her like that, arms crossed and worried eyes. He looked pretty all the time.

Today felt more intimate than anything they had done. Today had felt real.

“Of course, Petal. I’ll leave you to change.” He kissed her forehead.

He went downstairs, doing his usual morning routinely bits and bobs. When Y/n came down she had blow-dried her hair and washed her face. Her eyes, even with deep bags, still looked pretty. Lips all pouty. She seemed calmer now, but still tired.

“Are y’feeling up ta’ goin’ out?”

Even though she was tired, Harry had an excited look, how could she say no to him? Even if her uterus was angry inside her. 

“Okay? Breakfast?”

He nodded. “How could I drag you out without the promise of breakfast and a good time?”

She giggled.

They layered up for the winter weather, with puffer jackets and beanies. Y/n felt so funny in all of Harry’s clothes, but the smell made her so calm she was ready for a nap.

Harry mentioned that it was only a short walk through the park and then they’d be there. Since it was a pretty quiet area and Harry was wearing a beanie and sunglasses he wasn’t too worried about being noticed. Y/n was much the same in a pink beanie of his and this big crimson scarf around her neck. 

It was the one he wore on New Year's of  2014. “Harry, this is an old one isn’t it?”

He was typing on his phone replying to a worried Olive. He was annoyed she’d left Y/n to fend for herself and ditched her for a bloke. Nonetheless he told her Y/n was fine. He looked up at her, they were walking down his street. 

“Sorry, Love? What?”

She smiled placing a hand on her neck. “I remember this…”

“Oh, right. Yeah, had it for ages.”

She smiled softly. He turned is phone off and put it in his pocket grabbing her hand which had been swallowed by the long arms of his jumper. She let him, it felt too nice to pull away. His hand was warm and soft. She leaned into the comforting touch.

He kissed her hairline as they strolled through the park. It was chilly, Y/n found herself leaning into him happily. She wished it could be like this everyday. It was a Saturday so it was as busy as the quiet area got. Children ran around with worried mothers chasing after them. Teenagers on bikes laughing and flying by. Old couples wandered around closely together. 

They fit right in. Seeming like two normal people, a normal couple.

Harry wasn’t some rockstar right now, with Y/n he was just himself. Just Harry from Holmes Chaple. He loved that Y/n grounded him and made him feel normal, this to most was a boring day but to Harry the best in a long time.

When they got to the small strip of cafes Harry guided her to his favourite place. 

Over delicious hot chocolates and breakfast, the cold morning felt warm and Harry and Y/n felt blissful.

"Haz, thank you again,"

He just smiled and leaned in for a long kiss. It was nice and with no real sexual intentions. Just a genuine soft, warm, slow, nice kiss.

"Of course, now stop thanking me. No need. An' tell me what yeh' think of the eggs."

if you enjoyed this feel free to check out my masterlist here! xx feel free to request me too!

[jade-len]

guys, guys.

be honest with me. would anybody be willing to read any SVSSS x reader stuff (or, just SVSSS with reader fanfics in general?) like please i'm being so deadass right now. i am very willing to write, it's just that i have no clue if anyone would want to read that???

i know that the people in this fandom don't necessarily have any x or & readers, but i'm sad and pathetic and have a weird emotional attachment to the characters. like hear me out guys.

i present to you all a few ideas i have:

1. reader transmigrates into SVSSS and decides, fuck it, let's become a counselor/therapist/emotional support service pal. half of the conflicts in the novel would've been prevented if therapy, communication, and simple observation existed! mu qingfan, give me a chance!! i promise this will lower the qi deviation rates by at least 50%.

liu qingge? alright, let's work on learning identifying your feelings better and not respond via violence to every situation. shen jiu? hey, hey, it's okay to be vulnerable! no- please don't go self projecting yourself onto an innocent 14 year old. luo binghe? *pulls out 5 different documents* heavens, where do we even start? like, gods forbid any of them have a proper support system, or at least be able to express their feelings and deal with them in a healthy manner!

2. liu qingge x reader where he gradually stops painfully pining and gets the love that he deserves. he gets his pretty face cupped gently and kisses all over it. that's it. that's the fic idea.

3. bingge, the original luo binghe, gets sent back in time.. all the way back to right when his mother died. he believes that he's been given a chance to re-enact his revenge, play it smart all the way from the start and have an upper hand now that he has to relive this! however, that quickly changes when this random fucking person (aka, reader) just wont stop bothering him?? what the hell do they want??? (for this one, i'm not sure if reader should be a transmigrator who believes they're in SVSSS instead of PIDW and is unaware of the whole bingge thing, or just some npc that proves him wrong about kindness).

4. SVSSS hater (or someone who just has a very complicated relationship with it!) reader transmigrates into it after tweeting "stupid author, stupid novels". they then proceed to accidentally collect two husbands they were so actively against before. ugh! now that i'm here, i guess i'll try to help out with their relationship and give my advice so that they won't have so much conflict, ones that were super frustrating to even hear about!! shen qingqiu, that dense ass guy and unhealthily codependent luo binghe! wait, what? what do you mean they both want me to be part of their marriage now??

sincerely, very much inspired by this tweet (reader most likely isn't going to be an anti, though);

low-key might combine the first and fourth fanfic idea? will make reader gender neutral (or even male!) though. but overall idk. idk if people will even wanna see that at all, man. ok please give thoughts. or not lol

(10-11-23 edit: i'm currently writing the bingge one rn!)

[pakunod-a]

Idia Shroud, who..

...can't fathom how you ever got around to talking to him. He was convinced you were too good for him.

...seems to be a bit more gloomy than usual.

—oh, no, it's not you. He just can't process how such a lovely human being could ever be his friend.

...can't believe it's been so long since you've first DM'ed him. He didn't even have to do anything at all.

...has a hard time believing you wouldn't up and find someone else to befriend. You're.. probably his first genuine friend. Why wouldn't you want to stay good friends with him?

...is your closest online friend. You've met a little short over a year ago, and now he's a little too attached.

...is one of your closest confidants. Despite not being friends with you in person, you trust him with major things, like your game accounts, your Magicord account, your IP address <3

...is your duo on most games. You support him, and oftentimes, he lets you carry.

...doesn't trust you when you say that your "friends" are only with you to hang out. They must have ulterior motives, no?

...is very, very fortunate he installed an app that lets him see through your webcam. You were so ethereal, it was unbelievable.

...thinks you look like a masterpiece crafted by the very hands of a god themselves. This is who he's been talking to all this time? He's breath-taken.

...starts slowly getting insecure every time you try and turn down his offers to game together. His mind starts going to the worst possible places imaginable.

...can't have you getting any ideas of leaving him. You're basically his best friend, dare I say his platonic? lover. You put your Minecraft beds together. You went to the Heart Island on Genshin Impact with him. He does all your dailies for you whenever you aren't available, and vice versa. You're practically married at this point.

...is waiting for the right time to strike. Not now, but soon. You shouldn't suspect it. If he fails, he risks losing his beloved friend.

...monitors you closely. It's just a matter of time, you know. After all, you're playing hard to get. And Idia does love a good challenge.

...watches your every move. You like to sing in the shower, don't you? You sound so talented.. undeserving of someone like him. You enjoy the company of cats? How coincidental.. he does too. You have so much in common already.

...has your room set up next to his. You'll live with him, eventually. When he finds the courage to do it.

Idia Shroud, who will forever be your Player 1. Won't you be his Player 2, too?

long note below here, skip if not interested

A/N: hello :)

it's been a while, how have you all been?

i apologize for being on a hiatus of some sort. and for the rushed and short idia post T-T

it's going to be the start of a busy year for me, i am graduating after all.

i have lots of posts i need to publish and rewrite, but unfortunately my schedule is too packed, and the only times i feel free enough to write are after-school hours, which are 8 pm - 12 am for me.

i might just end up reuploading more fics from my old blog, or writing a bit more for other series i'm into. (hxh, obey me, twst, mlbb, genshin, and hsr <3 perhaps trese if anyone's heard about it? 👀)

but if i ever come back to posting, what kind of content would you guys like to see?

my requests and inbox(?) are always open. please do drop by and say hello, or drop a request you would like to see written by me. i find that requests or ideas from others often get my brian going.

if you wish to find me elsewhere, my tiktok and my discord users are both pakunod.a :)

i would like to come back again with posts for you to read, or a few of my practice drawings for you to see.

perhaps in the future. :)

as always, stay safe, keep yourself healthy, stay hydrated, and always love yourself. <3

- 1, Yuan

[fixfoxnox]

Luke Skywalker hc's!!!

NOW!!

THE WAY I COME OUT OF MY WRITERS BLOCK JUST FOR THIS RAHHHHH LETS GO STAR WARS ASK

Bonjour, to anyone who doesn't know I am a huge Luke Skywalker fan, I very literally stole his name and pronouns (like no joke thats why I'm called Luke teehee) so this feels appropriate, especially during the May 4-5 time period rahhhh

Anyways,

Luke Skywalker Headcanons

First thing to know about me, I'm a dinluke shipper, I'm built crazy like that

Luke is the gayest man I've ever seen. I fully believe that he was just so smug after Leia kissed him just because it bothered Han

If everything with Vader hadn't happened and Anakin and Padme just got to have the kiddos, I genuinely think Luke would have been Padme's mini-me

Like the fashion? Chanel boots Skywalker would have eaten them up frrrrr

However I do fully think he would have continued to follow his fathers passion for flying.

But anyways, back to canon

I like to think that Luke is extremely smart, but people tend to overlook it

They see him and think dumb blonde but he's genuinely so intelligent

And like not just with mechanics and flying, but like also he had to have learned a ton just about like farming and business from his time on Tatooine

Speaking of which, Luke for sure saw Din at some point on Tatooine and had a little swoon with his friends

Big strong man in a suit of armor? And the voice???

Luke loves kids. Like down pat he loves children so fucking much frfr

I think Luke probably wished he could have his own kids (I ignore comics if yall can't tell) but ended up sacrificing that to be able to start his jedi temple and take care of a larger number of kiddos

Semi-parenthood would be good enough for him

Speaking of which, I do genuinely think that Luke doesn't uphold the whole "no attachments" thing jedi had going on

I think he sent Grogu away because he could tell that Grogu was going to be better off with Din.

He offered Grogu the choice because he wanted to make sure that Grogu had a say in his future

Luke for sure had a crush on Han, particularly during Empire Strikes Back. Like I just know this boy was crushing hard

Definitely knew it was one sided, but ya know, can't control what the heart wants.

Took him a bit after Vader's death to actually decide what he wanted to do

I imagine he would have been filled in about things via Yoda or even the force ghosts, so he would have to take time to come to terms with all of the information given to him

I feel like a large part of him would have resented the Jedi order for a bit and struggled with this idea of "continuing" on the jedi

I think he only decides to continue when he realizes that he can do better. He doesn't want to relive the mistakes of the past.

[hard--headed--woman]

im also goldstar/never even kissed a man but it doesn't seem fair to me to blanket call anyone who's recently came out/slept with men in the past straight. I believe she has a gf currently? But either way I can understand how living in a conservative/religious small town would make it easier to stay with your bf you aren't attracted to but are attached to for other reasons (companionship, friendship etc) than when you move away and can be more yourself. Do I know if she's a lesbian or if she will end up figuring out she's bi or whatever, I have no clue. But it seems pretty hurtful to think her attraction isn't genuine. Maybe I'm too sympathetic bc I'm feminine looking (although I don't wear makeup or shave) and so I know most people don't immediately think of me as gay, even though I could never even imagine finding a man attractive but idk. I honestly would more likely believe Chappell is gay and was closeted than some self ID lesbians who say stuff like well yeah I'm attracted to men everyone can see when a man's handsome I just don't want to go further. I have never understood attraction to even conventionally attractive/celebrity men so that is more weird to me than like. Staying in a relationship because you're attached and they've been a part of your life for years vs genuinely being attracted.

Jesus I am so SICK of people like you sending me asks like these. When will you people ever STOP defending fakebians and understand that no, no matter how homophobic her family is, a lesbian would not willingly spend YEARS sleeping with a man ??? For real leave me alone and go defend lesbophobes elsewhere if you really have so little pride

She isn’t a lesbian. That's it. Everyone who disagrees is a homophobe on top of being an absolute idiot. Even if she's from a homophobic backround, and we don't even know if she is, she still spent years sleeping with her ex, she spent years singing about sex with men, she is obsessed with her ex and talks about him all the time, she is obsessed with men in general and only talks about them, she sings, dances and talks for the male gaze, and she decided to call herself a lesbian only because she hates men and thinks they're bad at sex. Since when is that lesbianism ? No matter how homophobic her family is and no matter how hard she's struggling with internalized homophobia, a lesbian would absolutely never do this.

I don't care if it's hurftul. I don't think she's attracted to women at all, and even if she is, then she's just another homophobic bisexual. Also, I don't understand how it has anything to do with you being feminine looking, lol. Do you think that's why I say Chappell is straight ? I would call her straight even if she was as masculine as Rocky Balboa.

"it's easier to stay with your bf you aren't attracted to" then why dating him in the first place ? Plus I don't think a lesbian could sleep with a man for years, no matter what. Do you have any idea how traumatizing that would be ? And above all, WHY would a lesbian do that ? Also, in Roan's case, she is so obsessed with her ex that even if you believe a lesbian can date a man (stupid thing to believe), it's still very very obvious that she was attracted to him. A lesbian wouldn't obsess over a guy that way.

Anyway, a real lesbian would never start dating a man at all, let alone stay with him for years. If you really are a lesbian, let me give you an advice : stop protecting fakebians. They're not on your side. They're helping TRAs and conservative homophobes. You're working against all lesbians when you defend people like Roan.

[jeonscatalyst]

Perhaps a controversial (and late) opinion, but I don't like when some jikookers basically say Jimin was lying when he said Letter was for fans. It's one thing to believe the song is for fans AND someone else, but to say is not for fans at all and Jimin was lying? That's exactly what taekookers do. How are we going to complain about taekookers calling Jungkook and Taehyung liars and then do the same with Jimin. These jikookers try to phrase it as nicely as they can, say that is not Jimin's fault he lied straight to fans faces multiple times making fans believe this is was a song he wrote for them, it's okay because he was forced to do it. But 1) that's literally exactly what taekookers always say and 2) that makes no sense. I understand that Jimin obviously couldn't say the song was for Jungkook, but he didn't have to lie and say it was for armys, he could've just said nothing. Which would have been specially easy to do since this is a hidden song. No one was gonna corner Jimin and force him to say who the song was about. Nothing bad would've happened had Jimin said nothing about Letter. Just like nothing bad has happened now that he hasn't said anything about the multiple very romantic songs in Muse (Who excluded since he talked about it a bit). Seriously, Jimin loves doing things and then providing zero explanation for those things (like the oddly familiar face in the billboard in the Who MV, cause I'm telling you, he's never gonna explain that and we're just going to have to be curious for the rest of our lives). But what he doesn't love doing is lying to fans.

Look, I get it, I also loved when I first listened to Letter and heard Jungkook's voice. I understand that the idea this is a song exclusively about Jungkook is very sweet, but the moment Jimin said the song is about fans is the moment I let go of that idea. The same way that when it turns out we were wrong about something (which inevitably happens to every fandom and we are no exception) I let go of that something, but some people refuse to do it and will keep saying that something is true even when there's proof it's not. I understand getting attached to certain moments or ideas, but what I'm not gonna do is hold on to things that aren't true just because I want them to be true. And what I'm DEFINITELY not gonna do is call Jimin a liar. Again, they can phrase it as nicely as they want but they're still calling Jimin a liar not matter how the put it.

I thought we were supposed to be different, that we were supposed to believe what Jimin and Jungkook say and not try to twist their words or claim those words are lies. And we don't even need to do that, Jikook remains jikook with or without Letter. And this isn't even about thinking Letter could also be about Jungkook, it's about saying it's ONLY about him and not about fans at all. Because Jimin has said multiple times it is about fans (the song is literally called Dear. ARMY) so to say it's not is to say he lied.

I hate to say this, but some jikookers put shipping above respecting Jimin's and Jungkook's words whenever those words aren't what they want to hear.

Hi anon,

Sorry I am only getting to this ask now. I agree with you as I also don’t like it when some shippers call the boys liars either. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think any of the members are saints who just cannot tell a single lie. I believe that they lie and probably do it a lot to protect their privacy and the things they hold sacred but what I don’t believe is that they lie for stupid reasons. The way tkkrs would look you dead in the eye and say that Tae lied when he looked surprised after finding out about the process of Jungkook’s album from suchwita or claiming that Jk lied when he said he didn’t know where Tae was when asked during his Inkigayo Live. I don’t believe they would lie about things like that because if Jk could openly admit that Tae heard “Seven” first and if Tae could go Live and tell fans that Jk sings for him then why on earth would he pretend about not knowing the process to Jungkook’s album? Makes no sense to me.

Like you said, two things can be true at the same time. Letter could be both about fans and Jungkook. These are artists who find unconventional ways to express themselves and their feelings so it shouldn’t be a surprise for anyone to find out that they express themselves through their songs. Calling Jimin a liar because he said it is a fan song is a no for me because why would a fan try to tell an artist who his song really is for? If he says it is a fan song, then it is a fan song period. There could be more to the story and we as fans could speculate but straight up calling him a liar over something like that is weird to me.

I wouldn’t expect Jimin to come out and announce that the song is for Jungkook too but like you said he could have just not said anything about it the same way he left us wondering about whose eyes they are on that TV screen in “Who” MV. He choose to say it was a fan song multiple times so that should be enough to let anyone know that he wants us to know it is a fan song regardless of whether the song is also for Jungkook or not.

I have often said that when the members tell us stuff, it is because that is what they want us to know or believe regardless of whether they are lying or not so as fans, we could speculate on so many things since we know they are not at liberty to tell us everything but what I don’t think we should be doing is disrespecting and damaging their characters in process of figuring out what kind of relationships they have with each other. We are honestly already being invasive with all this shipping talk and posts so the least we can do is respect the things they tell us even if we don’t believe those things to be true.

I am one of the people who believes that the JM on Jk’s finger could be for Jimin and he technically has never said otherwise but I would go with his explanation for the tattoos over swearing that the JM is for Jimin because I think that is the respectful thing to do. If a day comes when he feels comfortable enough to tell us that it actually is for Jimin, then I would scream my lungs out then but until then, I go with his explanation because that is what he wants me to know and believe.

Thanks for this ask anon💜

[sleepy-vix]

How to annotate your books like i do

i'm writing this because i am bored :)

📰🪶

what you will need:

- a bunch of annotation tabs in a variety of colours (you can buy these on amazon)

- a pencil (preferably tiny so it's not always in your way, but that's up to you.)

- no pens. too permanent and they bleed

- no eraser

- no ruler

- no highlighters, colour pens, or colour pencils

- a pencil hook holder thing that you attach to the plastic flat thing that your annotation tabs are on and put your pencil through. compact. keeps all your stuff together when you're not using the pencil

- a book. obviously

- a drink: optional, and unrelated.

How i make the key:

choose colours that match your book. I usually pick out 5 based on intuition. This is how i make my key:

- the darkest colour is for sad/ horrifying/ basically wtf moments

- i always have one for quotes

- i sometimes have one for fun fact; depends on the book

- i like to have a tab that i label as "hm" which basically means "ooh interesting idea proposed here" (not all books will let me have this tab. like a fantasy book wouldnt have this tab, but a dystopian book would. i love it when books allow me to add this tab ^^)

- sometimes i have one for beautiful descriptions and writing

- i have one for cool protagonist moments

- i have another for 'cool character moments: side characters' (i only give side characters their own tab if i find that i am very attached to them. like i was reading the poppy war, and i was bookmarking kitay moments alot so i decided to give him his own colour)

honestly, i do alot of this based on my intuition, and i like to adapt it as i go along

also here are some more general facts abt my annotation habits:

- i usually leave space in my annotation key because half way through the story i will probably add more to the key

- i don't believe in having a tab for plot points. i'd much rather write my thoughts on foreshadowing and plot theories in the margins of the book with my pencil. i see no need to give it a tab

- my pencil is everything. i try to use pencil to express my thoughts whenever i can. i only tab when i really loved a scene or line and feel that my future self would want to easily flip to it

- i don't force myself to be articulate in my written annotations cus there's no space to be. most of the time i just wrote lol, aw, draw a skull, draw a straight lined face, or draw a crying face so that my future self can see what i was feeling when reading it

- i don't like underlining a whole paragraph, i feel like it looks clunky. so instead i draw a bracket like this [ in the margine so it draws my attention to that entire paragraph and future me will know that i found that entire paragraph to be interesting

- my lines are messy, and i love it. it breaks my reading rhythm to bust out a ruler and meticulously rule my lines, i just wing it and move on

- usually, in my annotation key, to start with, there are no tabs for ships. i usually add that in later on if there is any that i care about. if there is romance that i don't care about then i simply won't add a tab.

my annotation experience is very personal and it's done for my future self, or anyone that would like to see my personal thoughts on the story.

i don't care to annotate in a logical way. i won't make tabs for every main character or every plot device or every romance ship. that makes me feel like i'm shallowly categorizing the scenes in the book... ykwim?

- ooh also, by the end of the book, if i find that i am head over heels in love with it, i'll usually go back and draw on any blank space i can find (i try to draw the scene that is happening)

btw none of these photos are mine

thanks for coming to my ted talk

[thatdogmagic]

As before, if you don't know what's going on, and aren't up to speed on Tumblr nonsense, you are totally allowed to go do something else. It will be a much better use of your time.

So, yeah.

I know the logs going around. I know how they come off if taken at face value, from the author's 'I did nothing wrong here' point of view.

Disclaimer up front: what I'm about to say isn't excusing aggressive behaviour, or saying that everything I said is wonderful and/or justified. Even if I think HaliteaTiger et al are going out of their way to heap all their responsibility on to me, like they were just innocent babies who couldn't make decisions for themselves, I don't think anyone deserves to be in the blast radius of an autistic meltdown (required viewing), especially of the Fight variety.

Talking about that is how Haligren and I bonded, in fact. Even before I knew it was autism, we talked about our mutual issues with explosive and dissociative anger.

All this is to say, I am not going to lengthen this post even more by pausing to say, every time I defend myself, that I'm aware of my own bad behaviour. Which I know is going to rub some people the wrong way/serve as 'proof' I'm just as bad as they think, but honestly? Don't care. This post isn't for you. You've decided based on vibes-based posting and cherrypicked logs you don't like me, and that's your business. You're welcome to leave now. I haven't given you any method of knee-jerk replying to this anyway.

For everyone else, the tl;dr is this: it should strike people as odd that I am the only person taking any real responsibility for a situation so prone to blowing up (friends working together) that it regularly shows up in every sitcom known to mankind.

To me, it is the height of irony that my main detractor decided to post me saying the r-slur about myself as an indictment, when 'look at this r-slur' has been the thesis of everyone's posts ever since this started. And no, I'm sorry, they know that's exactly what they're doing.

I can say that with confidence, because each one of them was informed, very clearly, and very early on, that I, as an at-the-time 41-42 year old, was going through some serious struggles with a recent autism diagnosis. In the case of HaliteaTiger, she even ignored photographs I'd taken, physical evidence of what meltdowns could do to me in my younger years.

They know this is explicitly attached to a disability, and they're going on record saying they can't possibly believe that's the case. That I must be lying for my own benefit.

In short, that I'm too smart to be that (r-slur). I must simply be malicious, manipulative, abusive instead.

Which is exactly why the word is so easy to reach for in those moments of meltdown.

Doesn't make it right, of course-- not only should I not use the word, I should really be kinder to myself. But I have a hard time being angry with myself for repeating what people have been saying to me for pretty much my entire life, even if they're not saying it outright.

So. Let me be blunt: I am not taking responsibility for other people deciding that they can "handle me," in spite of a downpour of warnings, disclaimers, and full-blown discussions. It can only be my fault for so long that I am exactly who I say am.

What I can take responsibility for is moving too quickly. It was taking that feeling of 'oh this explains everything' that the diagnosis brought with it, and thinking that relief could translate into control. I wasn't in a rational space for how things went with HaliteaTiger - and I was as clear about that as I could have been - but in the end, I was the one who said 'yes' to working together. I was probably the one who had the idea to work together in the first place. And I genuinely thought I could handle it. Obviously, I couldn't, and I meant every apology I gave when that became evident.

(aside: since people will rightfully ask, I have footnoted why I agreed to work with Jackal/Trish in spite of saying I learned from this bad experience with Haligren; if I go into it here I'll veer off track again.)

When I say this is where my responsibilities begin and end, I'm not writing that off as a small thing. I know now that, that soon after diagnosis and reorienting my life, I was going through a kind of 'skill regression.' Whether I knew it or not - that I was effectively a loaded weapon that could go off at any time - it doesn't change the outcome. Besides that, I knew full well what I was capable of. I had years of experience telling me it was probably too soon. 'Wishful thinking,' and the myriad other reasons for poor impulse control, doesn't clear me of that. I'm not going to ask, never have asked anyone to forgive me for it, either.

That said: it is where my responsibilities begin and end.

Keep in mind, Haligren herself posted what was more or less, 'she did exactly what she said she'd do and I can't accept that maybe I had a hand in this by not bothering to listen to her. Again.'

And the same goes for Jackal, albeit to a far lesser extent. We've already covered the fables she's invented for this.

You know, I know I've said it before, but I feel like it's worth pointing out again that this is all this needed to be. 'I thought I could handle this and I couldn't' was all it needed to be, from everyone. There was and is no shame in admitting that. And admitting it to ourselves didn't need to be all bad, either. It certainly hasn't been for me.

ex: It's allowed me to set much clearer boundaries for myself and others; it's let me see a lot of weak points that need the most work; and it's allowed me to just exist more comfortably with others.

There are things outside of my control that can still trigger me, but I've gotten better at pulling back in time, and if not pulling back in time, then lessening severity. Which sucks, sometimes, because it often means pulling back from things I'd rather be doing, because they're too overstimulating. ex: I often have to stop playing flashy video games because the visuals can exacerbate any ambient tension I already have.

It's where 'ah yeah this why this is a disability' realizations come in. Having to literally lay in a dark room to get your nervous system to shut the fuck up. Which I didn't know, couldn't have guessed would be a requirement for getting my Everything to calm down, any more than I could know that certain types of treble played at higher volumes could make me start feeling panicky and fucked up. I didn't even know 'dark room + reading' would work for me until sometime this year.

With all that in mind, I've been trying to be a lot more mindful about surrounding myself with people who I know for sure know exactly what's going on. Who take it seriously, and understand that I'm still learning a lot as I go, making up for a lot of years to a point where I sometimes feel like I'm relearning how to walk, or tie my shoes. They understand that just the process of de-masking is difficult, either because they've done it or are in the process of doing it, themselves.

I will not hold it against them if they witness a meltdown and decide enough is enough. Which is part of this I don't think Haligren et al ever realized:

I don't want people around if I'm genuinely too much for them. Because, and I know this might come as a shock but, I don't want to hurt people. I never have and I never will. I don't get any kind of fulfillment out of the sound of a telephone, or some random visual overload, sending me into an absolute rage and that coming out at someone I care about. That's not cool or comfortable or fun, that's stupid. I don't get any joy or reward from that. There is nothing that has ever positively reinforced it, and until I knew what it was, every single method I could use to fix it just fell completely flat.

I've spent much of my life feeling completely hopeless about it. Which is something else Haligren and I talked about. Something she experienced herself and sympathized with (which I can say is true; funny enough, she took the reactions to some of her own random explosions and posted them as 'proof I'm just mean all the time'). I have my theories as to why I suddenly lost that sympathy - I wasn't 'fun' anymore when my struggles were real, for one - but that's for later.

Still: everything that happened between us, she already knew was possible. That it was a matter of 'when' not 'if.' That it was not me giving myself permission, it was me telling her, this is a thing I struggle with constantly, it does take a certain type of person to work this closely with me on projects I feel this strongly about.

For reasons only she can say, she decided she was that certain type of person. I did not strongarm, goad, or pressure her into that role. I did not ask 'are you sure?' in some bizarrely nuanced way that inferred she had no choice.

Example: I was in what I can recognize now as that 'pre-meltdown' state when she approached me about using Clip Studio's comics formatting. For whatever reason, I snagged on having found the tool confusing in the past and lost my fucking mind about not wanting to use it. I apologized because it was undeserved, at best random and out of nowhere.

I feel like that should have probably let her know what was going on/its severity.

I would check in (or try to check in) with her after stuff like that and I know at least once initiated the 'are you sure?' conversation about working together, if not twice, in response to not catching myself in time. Long before she let me stick my neck out publicly and announce the collab we were working on.

IDK what she thought I was saying there. With any of that. Which was another problem in and of itself but we'd be here for actual pages of text if I had to go into how many times I was willfully misinterpreted as playing 4D manipulative chess or whatever.

So, yes, to say, 'I knew it could be bad but not this bad!!' is plain bullshit. It's bullshit. She knows that. And she knows I have logs of all of it.

Here's the thing tho: I don't *want* to fucking post any logs. Not least because I don't want *my* personal business out there for everyone to see, but I frankly don't want to be known as someone who posts someone else's, esp wrt mental health. Also:

I don't want to continue a slapfight that will only lose us all friends and colleagues, and may even create fractures in the actual community.

Because, let's be clear: that's the *only* endgame here. That is the best possible outcome of all of this: we annoy our peers and our community with a mountain of shit that will only ever boil down to 'we did not work well together, for a variety of reasons, and we all got messy about it.' That is all anyone will come away with after all the logs are posted, and all the shit is slung. Because there is no tell-all beyond that. There are no juicy secrets.

If you guys ('cause I know it'll be copy/pasted to you anyway despite blocks) want to die on that hill, that's your business. I *am* genuinely sorry anyone had to sit through my meltdowns; I truly don't want to have them, ever at all for any reason, and I don't want other people around me to take the heat of them. But that's the only thing I can really apologize for beyond 'I'm sorry it didn't work out' and whatever other *actual* mistakes I made.

We all made plenty. We all lost an opportunity we wanted in each other. We all lost out on telling our own stories quicker, and on telling new ones with one another. Pointing to one of the only people willing to take any responsibility for their part, and proceeding to dump *all* responsibility on their shoulders, will not fix that. Burning me in effigy won't save you from yourselves, either, because if you can't face this, you'll have all the same problems with other people later on down the line. You just will. There's no avoiding that.

As for me, as I said, I pared down who I work with quite a bit, to people who do take me seriously, and understand - really understand - what they're signing up for. Who won't look at me saying 'I don't take hints well so please just be up front with me' and disregard it as nonsense because I'm clearly too smart for that to be a thing.

It does 1000% require being around people who are willing to talk very frankly and openly about every conflict and confrontation. Which are, it should be noted, *not* people who are pathologically driven to pat your ass and say 'it's ok it's fine' when they clearly meant something different.

...

I'm not sure anything good will come of me posting this.

When I say the posts about me have been pretty much nothing but Jackal, Trish, and Haligren saying 'look at this r-slur,' I really do mean it. People gawking and engaging are joining in to do the same. Me making this post just invites even more of that, from them and from spectators.

Nothing good has come of me staying quiet, though, so it needed to be said.

Their disbelief that I could ever be 'that bad,' their unwillingness to listen to me when I talked about my limits, when I gave clear examples of where I might need additional support... I am not taking responsibility for that disbelief, no matter how many internet randos get sicced on me. Not from Haligren and definitely not from Jackal.

So, yeah, sorry/not sorry. I know someone having a visibly 'fight' response is easy to shit on, but, nah, no. I'm not going to apologize for saying I was *owed* an apology from Haligren, either, because I was, and she knows exactly why. She's just not willing to talk about the context of that moment, because that'll take all the wind out of the 'she was abusive and lashed out for no reason!!' sails.

It'll mean taking responsibility for her part in ruining the opportunity I represented for her and her work. Which is probably an uncomfortable thought to sit with, and clearly has been for years, considering how eager she was to jump in on behalf of someone who knew ahead of time that she held a grudge.

I'm sure that'll work out well for her. I wish them well in their future collaboration. Maybe I'm wrong and absolutely none of the problems they had with me will ever surface ever again with other people ever, and everything will be fine.

ps: Going on public record to say someone who told you, more than once, 'I have no interest in you romantically' indicated they actually had a mutual crush on you is rich. 'The thought crossed my mind' =/= 'I have a crush on you too,' so we're clear. If Haligren weren't playing a game of hate-telephone with someone prone to exaggerate, she'd have known that this assumption is part of the problem I had with her.

Same w/ the constant 'I'm not into women' reminders, like I'm incapable of remembering/might fall in love with her at a moment's notice because I happen to be attracted to women and femmes. Which might just be her being awkward but like, PSA: don't do that to your queer friends, it's weird and gross to just assume that kind of thing.

Especially when, in spite of that, it felt like sometimes I was being treated as a surrogate boyfriend on an emotional level. Which is pretty much what she posted outright, so-- thanks for clarifying that for me, I guess. ;p

pps: The only reason I even considered taking a risk on working on something more intense w/ people again, re: starting up with Jackal and Trish at all, was because I got laid off from my job, had severance, and unemployment. I had a window of time I could work hard on big projects and still be pulling in income. They were both given a pretty detailed account of what had triggered them w/ Haligren and also that they had happened/would probably happen, given how new everything was.

It was still a decision I knew could easily go sideways - and tried to account for that - but took the risk anyway. I knew what I was doing, which is, yes, where I explicitly fucked up, and my way of owning that isn't something I can put on display. I can only prove it with how I act and with whom, and that's what I intend to do.

ppps: I'd say more about whatever it is Trish is going on about in all of this but she and I barely spoke personally which makes her going scorched earth honestly pretty laughable and not really worth addressing.

[lover-of-mine]

Do you think we could get a Buck feelings realization this episode??? I always thought we wouldn't, it's too early, but the fact that Eddie was haunting the narrative for BT getting together makes me think he kind of has to haunt the break up as well. And this would be Buck's confession, if that's the theme of the episode. I don't actually believe this is happening, but I think maybe it IS a possibility? I'm curious to hear your thoughts!

I don't think so, mostly because I don't think the show is ready to tell us with all the words that Eddie is queer and I strongly believe that the show wouldn't let Buck pine for straight Eddie. I think the audience needs to know Eddie is queer before Buck realizes he's in love with Eddie. In my head the timeline that makes the most sense is Buck queer awakening -> Eddie queer awakening (or acknowledgment because I will never let go of the idea that Eddie already knows) -> Eddie feeling realization -> Buck feeling realization. I think Eddie would instantly reevaluate his relationship with Buck the second he realizes men are an option so his queer arc is more attached to accepting he can love Buck not just the general realizing he's into men the way Buck's is, especially since Buck is already out. Then Buck figures it out and we have them dancing around it for a little bit, maybe because Eddie doesn't want to force that on Buck and because Buck thinks Eddie's straight, until something happens and forces Buck to start the conversation. So unless Eddie confesses, literally, that he has feelings for Buck, I don't see Buck having a full-blown feeling realization yet. I do think we could get something that points to the idea that they are almost there. We got the whole misplaced feelings thing going with Buck and his relationship with Tommy and Eddie and the whole thing with Kim, so we could have both of them reaching similar conclusions, maybe about what they want from life and a partner (I am eyeing the similar outfits very hard) and then the episode could end with both of them in the quiet scene in some understanding moment that is obvious for us, since we have all the info from both sides, but will still be on the air for both of them.

[zelda-cooper]

Character Ideas for Writers - Bushroot (Darkwing Duck)

This blog is for Darkwing Duck writers who plan to write a fanfic, comic or anything that directly or indirectly involves the character Bushroot. The ideas may not be for everyone and everyone has their own different vision of the character, but this blog is for those who are experiencing writer's block or any other creative issues. I hope you understand and, if you use any of these ideas, please give me credit. Thank you for understanding.

Yeah, I know, this blog took longer than I wanted... But in my defense, my college (yes, I'm in college-) gave me a lot of work to do, so that's it... Little time to make a blog... But I did it little by little and, now, here I am! Well, my dear writers, fanfiction writers, Fan Comics writers and Darkwing Duck fans, let's start with tips about my second favorite Darkwing Duck villain, Reginald Bushroot!:D

(Second favorite, because you already know... My number one favorite villain is Liquidator... -w-)

I decided to start with Bushroot because I had more ideas related to him and I was rewatching the Darkwing Duck episodes while listening to the Podcast "The Saint Canarian Files: A Darkwing Duck Podcast" (By the way, listen to their Podcast, it's really good and they bring curiosities about the production of the episodes :³). And, also, I ended up changing my mind about the "Bushroot Redemption Arc" that was being done in the "Boom Comics" comics and, after hearing some opinions from other people, I ended up liking the idea (and also, this blog was supposed to be released last month because Bushroot, believe it or not, is a good horror character). This blog will be divided into topics and, in each topic, I will talk about specific themes, but that encompass several ideas about that theme. Enjoy! :D

Oh, and for the people who came to the blog to complain about my ideas, I didn't see that you agree with my opinions, don't like Bushroot or are just here to complain as if it were Twitter... I kindly ask that you leave peacefully, malicious or inappropriate comments will be deleted.

Character's Past

This topic (as well as others) is optional, but if you want to make a story (like a fanfic, comic or One-Shot) focused on the character, this topic can be good to give more layers to the character.

I've heard many psychologists talk about how our inner child defines who we are in the present, and despite a series of factors involved, it's really true. So, in Bushroot's case, we have to define what made him a person who, despite being good deep down, ends up losing control of his emotions and ends up doing questionable things, and who also can't express what he wants to others. So I took some things from the psychoanalysis of Attachment Theory. And, to give a very rough summary (go research it later if you want), it is a theory that says that your type of attachments to friendships, family, work and romantic relationships can fit into four aspects of attachment: Anxious Attachment, Avoidant Attachment, Disorganized Attachment and Secure Attachment.

Since our focus is on Bushroot, after analyzing each of the attachments, I classified it into the two most likely attachments for him: Anxious Attachment and Disorganized Attachment.

- Anxious Attachment

The theory says that Anxious Attachment is caused when the person responsible for the child was inconsistent in meeting the child's needs, such as security, affection and attention. One day the child had a lot and the next, he had little. This attachment causes the child to end up developing affective anxiety, with this unpredictability of the person who took care of the child projecting itself into the constant fear that people will abandon him. And this also extends to other life experiences besides older people, such as having a boyfriend or a friend who sometimes gave you attention, and sometimes barely spoke to you, which can be harmful to future relationships, because the person ends up suffocating the loved one in search of validation and security, usually looking for dynamics that are "familiar" to them from past experiences. The points that make Bushroot have part of this attachment are:

Needs constant validation

Never feels loved enough

Has emotional ups and downs

His biggest fear is that they will abandon him

Constantly questioning your worth as a person based on the answers you receive

Always needs attention from others

He cares a lot about every detail

There have been moments considered toxic because of emotional dependence.

He has anxiety and worries a lot about the possibility of betrayal, of people no longer loving him or being interested in him.

- Disorganized Attachment

People with Disorganized Attachment are commonly the result of living in a hostile family environment, with dysfunctional dynamics and emotional abuse. The retained trauma ends up being manifested in later relationships. And, of course, it can also be developed in adulthood. Even if the person has received love in a good family environment, they can become a person with this attachment after traumatic experiences with a toxic partner. Extremely stressful situations can cause this type of attachment. The points that make Bushroot have part of this attachment are:

You don't know how to regulate your emotions, you never know what you're going to feel around someone

There was more than one person in that area who mistreated him

Carry unhealed traumas that show up in relationships

You know his behavior seems contradictory

People are generally untrustworthy

Feeling incomplete, with very low self-esteem

You want to be loved, but you're afraid of being hurt

You know that any relationship will always abandon you

I would like to love myself more, but I don't know if I can

So, yeah... You can take the Bushroot side of things, as a child, having had inconsistent parents or having lived in a hostile family environment, because both attachments are valid. But let's get out of the speculation part and into the part that's probably more fun to play with.

Origin of Powers and Mutation

Definitely the one I had the most ideas for, but let's take it one step at a time... We already know Bushroot's personality and why he did the experiment in the original, but if you want to change that, I have some suggestions.

- Trying to cure a terminal illness

I know, it's a cliché that a scientist tries to cure a disease that would probably kill him or make him lose something that would end his life, but it's still a cliché that, if done well, can give a greater dramatic load to the character. Having reached such an extreme point just to survive, it can also show the character's selfishness, even if small.

- Seek approval and recognition

This is also nothing new considering the duck plant, but it is really valid and is in the original, in parts. And it still works, changing one point or another, it can be well executed.

- Sabotaged by colleagues

This is a strand that goes a little against the original, but it is valid. If Bushroot had his project approved by his boss, Dr. Gary and Dr. Larson would probably be very angry with the duck and would have sabotaged the project, which would cause his mutation and, consequently, they would have indirectly caused their own deaths. But if you want a more interesting Plot Twist... We have another strand of this idea.

- Rhoda being the culprit behind the Bushroot mutation

If you want to completely change the origin of the mutation, you can do the following... Bushroot would be getting approval and would be making money with his projects, while Rhoda is about to be fired, so she decides to use the fact that Bushroot always wants approval from others and convince him to try to do a riskier project. However, she ends up tricking him and using him as an unwitting guinea pig, which ends up causing his mutation and, in the end, she is the one who receives the credit (even though the project was Bushroot's), which causes Bushroot to become blind with rage and want revenge on everyone, including Rhoda. It would be an interesting origin and one that, in fact, would add a lot to his story. And since we're talking about Rhoda...

Rhoda's Character

Another optional topic, but one that could be interesting to work on... Because, in itself, Rhoda's character is not very developed, she serves more as a stepping stone for the plot to follow and to contribute to Bushroot's initial motivation. So, if you want to work more on the character and her relationship with Bushroot, here are some suggestions.

- Keep the original personality, but with more development

It's self-explanatory, but it's valid... The issue of Rhoda being the only person who supports Reginald and truly believes in him is good, whether she just sees him as a friend or something more, which would also give more impact when Bushroot loses his sanity and ends up becoming a villain. You can also try to include her in a few times, making her a recurring secondary character and developing her personality more.

- Good on the outside, but manipulative and cruel on the inside

There are two sayings in my country that I've heard of: the first is "Love makes people blind" and the second is "Love is a purple flower, which grew in the heart of a fool". These two sayings fit this idea... If you want to make a more interesting plot twist, you can use Rhoda as a ladder for a character who seems good, but deep down she is the "mad scientist" of the story. As mentioned in the idea of Rhoda being the culprit of everything, she would have tricked Bushroot into stealing his project and thus gaining money and recognition, never having truly cared about him. This, besides being a plot twist for the audience, would be a reality check for Darkwing Duck, who would be shocked when he found out about this. It could also open the basis for a lot of symbolism regarding this act of Rhoda, but I'll leave that one for you to think about.

- Dying (unintentionally or not) because of Bushroot

Regardless of the path you choose, whether you want Rhoda to be good or evil, another idea that would be interesting is if Bushroot ended up killing her. Whether by accident, with the collapse of the laboratory or a fit of rage that hit Rhoda, or intentionally, with him killing her in cold blood or replicating her experiment, but ending up killing her in the process. But that depends on each writer, the shock value has to be used in the right way and that makes sense in the narrative, and there is no point in killing the character if there is no development for her or her death. But going back to the question of the Bushroot mutation...

Consequences of Mutation

We already know that he became a plant mutant and that this gave him, in addition to plant powers, an extremely surprising regeneration capacity. But what about the consequences of the mutation? Would there be any? I have some suggestions...

- Physical consequences of the body

For those who study biology, you know that our body has a certain "recipe" that, if changed, can cause physiological problems for us. In the case of Bushroot, because he transformed (or was transformed) his body into a plant, his body could reject the mutation. Whether it's his organs not adapting well and causing him to have internal problems, vomiting flowers like "Hanahaki" (those who know fanfics know this term), or him having the physiology of a zombie, losing his vocal cords and becoming hunched over, among other problems.

- Psychological problems

If you want to go into the more psychological aspect of the character, there are also ways to work on that. You can work on an identity crisis in him, with him realizing that he is no longer human and questioning whether he is still himself. You can explore how the mutation ended up affecting his brain, which makes him slowly start to lose his sanity and have hallucinations. Or, if you want to follow the original, explore how lonely Bushroot is now that he is a mutant, since everyone is afraid of him and wants him away, which also touches on the issue of his emotional dependence. But, for this last suggestion, we have a hook to talk about another topic.

Relationships

I'm not just talking about romantic relationships, I'm also talking about friendship and enmity. Let's start with the basics...

- Darkwing Duck

Everyone knows this... Bushroot doesn't like Darkwing Duck at first, mainly because he keeps getting in the way of his plans, but their relationship in the comics and the series ends up changing. Like in "Silme Okay, You're Okay", "Jailbird", "Twin Beaks" and in the zombie potato comic (I can't remember the name right now), they've already teamed up against a bigger villain. In the latter, by the way, it was the first time that Darkwing called Bushroot by his nickname, "Reggie". It comes to the point that, despite all their differences, they are similar, Darkwing even says this: "I know we have our differences...". You can explore either the aspect of Bushroot's hatred towards Darkwing or the aspect of Darkwing being a person who, even though Bushroot is a villain, supports his change of character.

- Fearsome Four

This is the second relationship that is most important, after all, he is in a group of powerful villains... But let's take it one step at a time... Quackerjack is one of the ones he would get along with the least, because, besides Quackerjack being noisy, it was seen in "Jailbird" that he destroys Reginald's plants a lot and doesn't care about his feelings. With Megavolt, he wouldn't interact much, but they would probably get along, considering that they were both losers in the past and have interests in science (even if their field is different), despite Volt also being VERY noisy. Now, with Liquidator, who unfortunately was the least explored, you can see that they get along very well, and could be both the "brave and coward" duo, as well as, probably, two gossipers (because I really think that both of them would be the type of person who likes to gossip), besides that their relationship with Dator could help his self-esteem, even if just a little, because the water dog definitely doesn't take any nonsense.

Credits to @hahasuchagarbage for the idea and inspiration

- Negaduck

Yeah... It's definitely not good... I DOUBT that Negaduck would be nice to Bushroot, even if he is useful as a "henchman", Negaduck would consider him "too soft". You must know that Negaduck is a HORRIBLE person (don't even try to contradict that it's true!), but he would certainly be one of the factors for Bushroot to have trauma that would take him to therapy... Negaduck would ALWAYS threaten Bushroot for every thing he did wrong, whether psychologically or by threatening to burn him alive until he dies. One of the relationships that, besides being toxic, would be one of the factors for Bushroot to be excited about wanting to have redemption or not.

- Spike

To lighten the mood, let's talk about the plant dog Spike... Even though, in the series, Bushroot acted very badly towards Spike, their relationship would be very cute to explore. There are people who, when they feel bad, adopt therapy animals to improve their anxiety and other psychological problems, which ends up fitting with Spike. And with this cuteness, we move on to the next topic.

Powers

Another optional topic, however, equally interesting! We know that Bushroot's powers, in general, are limited to controlling plants, but if you want to expand Reggie's range of powers further, there are some that suit him.

- Expand his plant control

Self-explanatory, but it requires research into plant biology, and I understand that it can be boring, but it ends up being rewarding and makes you see that Bushroot is, in fact, one of Darkwing Duck's most powerful villains.

- Control insects

A slightly more insane idea, but an interesting one, considering that some plants can trick certain insects into survival, whether through pheromones or another method. So it would be interesting for Bushroot to use some formula to manipulate insects.

- Control people with pollen from modified flowers

Just like Poison Ivy, who is the inspiration for Bushroot, he can use the flowers to control people, not necessarily making them fall in love with him, but manipulating their minds to commit crimes for him or something else. And now, let's get to the topic everyone was waiting for...

Redemption or not? That is the question...

As has been said many times here, there is the option of leaving Bushroot as a villain and someone who does not want to change (as some episodes of the series and the comics, both old and Dynamite, did) and there is the option of working on Bushroot's redemption and making him become a hero or an anti-hero. And now, let's explore these two narrative points. And, just for the joke, I'm going to do like Undertale and call the slopes "Good Route", "Neutral Route" and "Evil Route".

- Good Route

The route follows what was proposed by the Boom Comics comics and was touched upon in the original series, a possible redemption of Bushroot... As seen in the other topics, Bushroot suffered a lot of trauma, whether from the past, in his origins or with Negaduck, being some of the reasons why Bushroot is apprehensive about having a redemption arc, asking himself "Is it worth it for me to do this? Will anyone really believe in me to the point of agreeing to help me? Or will everyone just abandon me for choosing this?". And the character who would probably help Reggie in this arc would be Gosalyn (because, as much as Darkwing Duck might consider it, he is not at all delicate with words). Gosalyn, despite being a character with a bit of "no filter", she is a good person and, upon seeing an act of kindness from Bushroot, she would want to help him change. However, Negaduck would be the main obstacle to this redemption, threatening Bushroot with death if he did so, but, in the end, Reggie would finally face him and, thus, would begin his arc of reform, whether as an Anti-hero or as a hero itself. As for the reaction of the other Fearsomes... It will depend... If you want to maintain a good relationship between Bushroot and them, the Fearsomes can get upset, but they would understand Bushroot's side and accept his choice. Now, if you want a negative reaction, you can make them angry and get satisfaction from Bushroot, who would reinforce that he no longer wants to be a villain.

- Neutra Route

She is a middle ground between the good Bushroot and the evil Bushroot, literally being in the middle of them. Bushroot could even consider having redemption, but due to Negaduck's constant threats, he would refuse, even if it would break Gosalyn's heart... However, the event of the Fearsome Four breaking away from Negaduck could occur, which could open the door for Bushroot to be an anti-hero who only kills horrible people, but not necessarily being a hero or a villain, truly being neutral, which still keeps him in the Fearsome Four.

- Evil Route

Now... If you want Bushroot to be 100% villainous, you can choose how to do it... You can make him slowly lose his sanity and, when he is given the chance to redeem himself, he is so insane and traumatized that he would furiously refuse. Or you can make him feel that, if he changes, he will lose everything he has built and his friendship with the Fearsomes, deciding to remain a villain. There may be an atmosphere of terror with these aspects. Or, if you want a more tragic side, make loneliness consume him completely and he becomes a complete villain because of it. You can also want to make him have a redemption, but for a series of factors and a series of issues, he ends up dying in the end, but doing an act of kindness before dying. It's a tragic fate, but you can choose whichever one you want.

Reference Suggestions

Last extra topic to end the blog with a flourish (or perhaps a marigold, if you prefer), which are literary and character tips for you to get inspired.

- Dr. Jerkyll and Mr. Hyde

It might be a good choice if you want to explore Bushroot's internal conflict, between being good or being evil.

- Frankenstein

The most classic parallel, if you want to use the idea of Rhoda being evil and Bushroot being the victim, is questioning the ethics of science and the dilemma of "Who is the monster and who is the human?".

- Poison Ivy

The most direct inspiration for Bushroot, but if you want, you can delve deeper into the character to have both the aspect of Bushroot's powers and more of his past.

- Pearl (from Steven Universe)

It is one of the most classic examples of characters who have emotional dependence and who can help this part of Bushroot evolve and become more self-sufficient.

- Dead Plate

This last one doesn't exactly match Bushroot, but the protagonist and antagonist have two parallels about "what is love?" I recommend researching more about the characters and the game.

Conclusion

But that's basically it, folks... The blog got bigger than I expected, but I hope I helped you! If you have any suggestions for ideas, leave them in the comments and I'll reblog them with your idea! Each like and reblog is a little Lemon Balm Tea to calm down poor Bushroot... That's it, BYEEE!!!

All the arts were made by me in traditional, I hope you liked it! ^^

[whats-the-word-again]

An INTENSE reading with Lord Ares

Me: hmmmm, I wanna add to my worship of Lord Ares; I wanna do something a bit bigger this time... A digital Shrine!! (NOT a temple, I have neither the expertise or authority for that) Yeah that's a great idea! Better check with him first before I do though.

Me: [gets out my tarot deck, sets up a small offering and invites Ares into my space, thinking this will be a chill, short reading.]

Cards: lol wtf you actually suck why are you talking to me? You literally do everything wrong in life, you're so fucked.

Me: ????? Lord Ares????

Ares: Not me.

*Proceeds to pull the Tower and a MYRIAD of just Bad cards*

Me: [freaking out]- hello?? who is this and how can I make this up to you? What did I do wrong??

Me: Yknow what, lets start afresh..

[I ask for Lord Ares and Lord Ares ONLY to enter my space.]

Ares: I'm here! But not for long...

Me: ??

Ares: You don't need me anymore, it's time to let go...

Me: ??? I very clearly still need you- I don't want you to go :(( what?? what is going on?? please?? why are you being so ominous? is this a goodbye??

do my attachment issues show?

Ares: I'm just kidding lol. You should have seen your face.

Me: :0

Ares: This is your problem; you gotta stop jumping to conclusions. You need to take time to think things over. It's okay to get all the facts before believing anyting.

Me: ah.... so uh, did you want the E-Shrine then? (trying to get back on topic)

Ares: Really think about it, think it over. Organize it properly before you do anything, prepare it, don't have it just all over the place. And if after all that you still want to make it, then yes, you can go for it.

*He knows I make rash decisions that I struggle to commit to easily*

Me: Okay. so uh, was that you being mad at me earlier too?

Ares: Huh? No. I had nothing to do with that. But I think you know who it was.

Me: Lady Aphrodite... (for context [TW]; shes been trying to help me through one of my self-destructive behaviours and recently I kept telling her that I'd work on it but then I never did :/)

Ares: Yep.

*Insert me asking if I can post this ✨experience✨ to tumblr and he said yeah.*

Me: Any other message for me before I close up?

Ares: Reiterates that it was just a joke beforehand and that he's still here with me

Ares: I'm still here. I'm still here for you and I love you.

Me: What? :O

Ares: It's okay, you can say it back.

Me: I love you too Lord Ares. Thank you for your time :D

Overall experience? Most stressful reading I've ever had. Was it productive? Sure. Efficient? No.

30+ cards pulled 😢 (I lost track after 20 tbh)

I was exhausted after to say the least :,)

dividers made by @ vibeswithrenai

CLARIFYING - PLS READ !!

All of this is my reading and interpretation of the cards as well as intense gut feelings. This is just how I have interpreted the conversation; I cannot (sadly) hear or see the gods. I can slightly feel their presence, but I only have the thoughts and the feelings that come to me.

the casual language used is simply me, again, interpreting it into easier to convey language.

Lady Aphrodite was not actually threatening me or angry at me. You cannot GENUINELY anger the gods that easily. She was just, as Lord Ares was, trying to send me a message in a way that would catch my attention and that I'd listen

the 'I love you' exchange at the end is !NOT ROMANTIC!. whilst I do not have a problem with godspousing, i am a MINOR, Lord Ares knows this of course. Although I don't think I'd label it as a fatherly 'I love you', it is 100% NOT ROMANTIC or sexual or any kind. I am a minor.

[whumpsday]

Kane & Jim AU: Human Bellamy

Kane & Jim AUs masterlist

content: vampire whumpee, whumper turned whumpee, whumpee turned caretaker, rescue, recovery, begging, starvation, starvation-induced weight loss

you guys can blame @anomalys-taxonomy for this one as they gave me this idea which then instantly rooted itself into my brain.

this is an AU where Kane took a human Bellamy instead of taking Jim (who is a vampire in this AU and helped Bellamy escape but otherwise isn't that important here). Bellamy is a very cooperative whumpee, unlike the defiant Jim, and made efforts to "get on Kane's good side". as such, Kane was a much less severe whumper in this AU, not hurting Bellamy outside of bites. they had a much lighter / less-whumpy dynamic than Kane & Jim do in canon, due to Bellamy's general diplomatic nature and Kane's incredible weakness to shallow flattery.

-

Kane looked up through teary eyes after the hunter left. There he was, Bellamy.

He used to be embarrassed of how much he missed the human after he ran away, but not anymore. All his pride had been washed away, and he just couldn't bring himself to feel embarrassed anymore. All he could feel was a deep despair that Bellamy would be the one hurting him now. He never should have gotten so attached.

He could still see the bite-marks etched into Bellamy's neck, a reminder of all the pain he'd caused.

Bellamy cupped his face, and Kane squeezed his eyes shut with a whimper, expecting pain that didn't come.

"Oh, dear," Bellamy breathed. His hand was gentle, stroking along Kane's cheek, and Kane couldn't help but lean into the first kind touch he'd felt in years.

Bellamy's soft fingers hooked around the muzzle. "Let's get this off you then, shall we? I don't believe you require all this fuss, do you, Mr. de Sang?"

It was odd to hear a human use such a formal title for him after all this time. He shook his head in confirmation. No, I'll be good.

Bellamy lifted the muzzle off his face, wincing at the sight of burnt skin. His voice lost that calm, measured tone he nearly always had, pitching up a bit in barely-contained distress. "Oh my."

Kane wasted no time. He knelt, pressing his forehead to the ground. "I'm s-so sorry, Bellamy, sir," he sobbed, overwhelmed with fear of the unknown. "I'm sorry, p-please have mercy, I'm so sorry, please-"

"Shush. That's enough."

Kane snapped his mouth shut immediately at the proclamation, tears running into the ground. Bellamy didn't even want to hear his apologies.

Bellamy crouched and reached a hand toward Kane's chin, then seemed to think better of it and rested it on his back instead. "There will be time enough for that later, when you're not so out of sorts. Could you look up at me, dear?"

He'd never called Kane dear before. Back then, Bellamy had always called him either Mr. de Sang or my good sir, in what almost seemed a jovial mockery of the title Kane required of him, but too good-natured and generally respectful for Kane to really take as an insult.

Kane looked up, as ordered. "Y-yes, sir."

Bellamy gave him a smile that Kane might describe as soft if it were not so obviously forced. "I will indeed grant you mercy. I am not the violent sort, and you are in such poor shape that I could not fathom anything else. You may relax."

He couldn't possibly relax. Kane remained tense, wondering what exactly Bellamy meant by mercy. "Thank you, sir," he whispered.

"You're very welcome. Come now, then." Bellamy stood, motioning for him to do the same.

Kane followed suit and followed Bellamy to his car. It looked luxurious, even more so than his own car. Humans did rely on them to get around, after all. He fretted about dirtying the seat as Bellamy ushered him into the passenger's side, but Bellamy didn't seem to mind, strapping him in with some sort of fabric restraint. His confusion only grew when Bellamy strapped himself in with the same restraint.

"This is a seatbelt," Bellamy explained, noticing his confusion. "Simply an invention designed to protect the fragile human body. You may undo yours, if you like."

Protect. Why would Bellamy want to protect him?

"I'll keep it on," Kane decided. "Thank you, sir."

Bellamy hummed at that, starting to drive. "I think I'll refer to you as Kane from now on. We're on a first-name basis by now, are we not?"

"Yes, sir." No one had called him by name in years. It made him feel warm, like he was almost a person again.

"You may call me Bellamy, if you wish. Though I don't mind if you continue with the 'sir' business."

"Yes, sir." Safer to stick with the more respectful title.

"I suppose you wouldn't be the most talkative tonight. Why don't I put this on for us?" Bellamy turned on the car radio, which immediately started blasting catchy pop music. Kane perked up at that- he hadn't listened to music in so long. His excitement only grew further when Bellamy switched the station and soft classical music began playing instead.

"Thank you," Kane said emphatically, starting to tear up again.

-

It was a long drive home, and Bellamy was about one millimeter away from losing his absolute marbles.

He hadn't been sure what to expect when he went to visit his former captor, but it certainly wasn't this. He certainly hadn't expected to be taking Kane home. There would be no catching up through cell bars now that his freedom could no longer be stolen away. Kane was not merely a prisoner. Bellamy didn't want to know all of what had happened to him: he wasn't sure his heart could take it.

Of course, Kane had been horrible to him. He'd stolen two years of his life away, bitten him nightly, and was terribly rude nearly the entire time, especially in the beginning. But this? This was too far, by miles and miles. Honestly, with how sensitive Kane's ego was, there mere act of being bested by humans would have already wounded him enough to teach him a lesson. This was monstrous. He couldn't even bring himself to feel intimidated by the vampire, especially after ten years and ample therapy.

He was good at keeping calm under pressure. He could handle a vampire so weak he could barely stand.

Bellamy parked- too much driving for his taste, tonight- and went around to get Kane out of the car. Still looking up at him with those big, desperate eyes, like he was ready to burst into another fit of pleading for mercy. He looked so utterly weak and terrified, it was a wonder anyone could think to hurt him.

"Alright, then. Inside we go." Bellamy took the executive decision of scooping Kane into his arms, given the man looked like a light breeze could knock him over. He weighed so little that if he were human, he would surely be dead.

Kane rested in his arms without protest. "Yes, sir."

Bellamy had a feeling he wouldn't stop hearing that phrase anytime soon.

"What'cha got there, Mr. Verta?" Hayward asked as he approached, eyebrow raised.

Kane tensed in his arms, bright-red eyes focused squarely on the hunting gear on Hayward's belt. "Sir?" he squeaked, voice full of new terror.

"Oh, this is Kane de Sang!" Bellamy introduced. "Kane, this is Hayward. He stands guard at night just to make sure I stay safe." Hiring a retired hunter to this position was still one of the best ideas Bellamy's ever had, in his own opinion. His presence has helped dramatically with his anxieties.

The situation seemed to be taking the opposite effect on Kane, who began to pull in short, panicked breaths, clinging to Bellamy's shirt.

Hayward also seemed to not be a fan of the situation. "You sure this is a good idea? You need help?"

"Please," Kane whimpered, starting to cry again. "I'll be good, p-please, please no more, I promise I can be good."

"No more," Bellamy agreed, holding the trembling vampire close. "Thank you for the concern, darling, but I believe if my guest spends much more time in the presence of vampire hunters, he'll perish from fright alone. He's been through an awful lot, you see."

Hayward nodded skeptically. "Uh-huh. And what's the plan here?"

"I am winging it," Bellamy announced with a wink.

Hayward sighed. "I'll be here if you need me. Be safe."

"Oh, the safest," Bellamy assured. "Worry not, worry not. That goes for you too, you know," he added, looking down at Kane. "Hayward is here to ensure my protection. So long as you do not intend to attack me or whisk me away, you needn't be afraid, and it's quite obvious you intend neither."

Kane nodded frantically. "I don't, I would never, sir."

"Of course you wouldn't. Well, let's be off, then." Bellamy mouthed a thank you to Hayward before carrying Kane into the house, setting him down on the nice, soft couch. Kane seemed to melt into it, some of his tension disappearing. Bellamy wasn't sure whether it was due to being out of the hunter's presence, or the couch itself.

"I'm sorry if I dirty your furniture," Kane said sheepishly.

"Oh, pish posh. Don't worry about that of all things." Bellamy could see that Kane was in obvious need of a bath, but there were other things that must be prioritized. He'd been thinking about it the whole drive home, and determined he was ready. Hayward was outside if things went south, though he was reasonably sure he could handle things himself, what with Kane's current state. "You look positively famished. Would you like a drink, for old times' sake?"

-

That certainly got Kane's mind off the fact that a hunter was stationed outside. He'd been expecting Bellamy to take revenge on him for what he'd done, but instead, he'd offered blood. Blood. Kane hadn't fed in so long, he'd forgotten what it felt like to not be hungry.

"You would let me feed?" he asked, eyes practically sparkling with hope.

"What else am I meant to do? Force you to starve? Invite you to feast on fruits and veggies as I do?" Bellamy shook his head at the ludicrous idea.

"Thank you, sir!" Kane exclaimed, suddenly overwhelmed with joy. When it did eventually come time for Bellamy's revenge, he would be okay with anything if he could have blood after the hurting. "Thank you so much, I can't believe this is really happening!"

Bellamy sat down next to him. "It is indeed. Though, I must be clear, this will not be a permanent arrangement. I shall not serve as a source of blood for any large portion of my life," he said firmly, suddenly serious. "Do you understand?"

Kane wanted to ask so many questions. How long would he be allowed food? What happens after? Would he be forced to wither in starvation again, or would Bellamy find another human to provide blood for him?

But he was too afraid to question the generosity that is any blood at all. "Yes, sir. I understand."

Bellamy smiled, his brief seriousness gone. "Wonderful." He rolled up his sleeve, extending his arm. "The neck is a bit cliché, don't you think?"

"I can bite?" Kane asked with bated breath.

Bellamy reclined back on the couch, arm still extended. "You may."

Kane wasted no time. He was being given permission. He bit into Bellamy's forearm- slowly, gently, trying to cause the least pain possible.

It was like a rich, flavorful explosion in his mouth. He had never tasted anything so wonderful, so delicious. All other thoughts slipped from his mind, replaced only with the desperate need to get as much blood in him as possible, as fast as possible.

He was distantly aware that Bellamy was saying something to him, but he was too entranced to process it. He needed blood. There was nothing more important than getting blood, it was the only thing in the world that mattered-

Bellamy tugged firmly at his hair, though slowly enough to avoid a sharp yank. He pulled Kane out of his arm, blood gushing out after.

His voice wavered a bit as he spoke, a hint of anxiety breaking through. "I've asked you to stop."

A wave of horror crashed over Kane as he snapped back to reality, realizing what he'd just done.

"I'm sorry!" he yelped, terror seizing his heart. "I'm so s-sorry, sir, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to! I don't know what came over me, I was just so hungry I didn't realize what I was doing!"

It was a horrible excuse. Kane was the monster the hunters always said he was, trying to drain his old victim even after Bellamy was kind enough to feed him. He wept brokenly, knowing that it would be the last time. He'd be lucky if his only punishment was getting food taken away forever. He'd easily earned being put in the sun, or even being sent right back to his cell. No more comfortable couches, being gently held, listening to the radio. His reprieve over in a matter of hours.

He couldn't stop crying, mourning the soft life he'd never get to earn. "I'm sorry," he whimpered. "Please, mercy, please, I can be better! I-"

"Kane," Bellamy interrupted softly. "I am not going to penalize you for drifting off a bit. It's clear that you are trying your very best." He extended his bleeding arm. "If you wouldn't mind, dear?"

"Oh!" Kane swiped his tongue over the wound, stopping the bleeding and licking up the excess blood as the relief settled in. "S-sorry. Thank you, sir, thank you so much for your kindness."

"Yes, I do believe you're in need of a little kindness after your ordeal," Bellamy said. "Now, why don't we get you cleaned up and into some proper clothing?" He smiled. "I will admit, I've always wanted to dress you up. You always wore such plain things back in the day."

Clothes. Bellamy was going to allow him clothes, like a reward even after he'd earned a punishment.

Kane nodded, finally letting himself give in to the hope that maybe things could be okay. "I would like that very much."

-

kane and bellamy do end up developing feelings for each other and getting together romantically as their relationship progresses, despite their troubled past. all of bellamy's friends share the sentiment of "bellamy, you are well-known for your bad taste in men, but this is a little far even for you." bellamy tells them it's just like beauty and the beast! :) to which they respond "no."

taglist in reblog!