#it was only in the interest of making the game as miserable and bleak for us and for ellie as it fucking could be

[jackietaylorsghost]

‘do you want ellie to just be a prop for joel’s story’ you say, as though she isn’t treated as literally that in tlou2, the game ur defending lmao. ellie is nothing BUT a prop in that narrative. a prop for abby’s story which neil was so desperate to tell but knew not as many ppl would buy if joel and ellie weren’t there so he shoved them in without care or regard for their journey in part 1 or their development. a prop for neil’s torture porn narrative he was determined to do at the detriment of ellie’s character and development, her choices are used not in service of her arc/growth or bcus they’re in the best interest of her and who she is, but to increase her/our suffering and for shock value. her not speaking to joel for 2 years isn’t some great character choice for ellie ‘id be more scared without you’ williams, it’s to make her torment and regret when he dies worse that is literally why he dies the day after they agree to try instead of being given time to get their relationship in a better place before he dies. ellie ‘im scared to end up alone’ williams leaving dina and jj to carry on her absurd revenge plot isn’t a choice in the interest of giving her the character arc she deserves, it’s a choice designed to literally leave her broken and alone with nothing so the revenge bad message can be ham fisted at us as though we wouldn’t have known if they hadn’t told us lol. ellie has no arc. she has no development. the game isn’t about her immunity which was so important to her, it barely mentions it, ironic bcus that’s what she’s so mad at joel about and then it’s so irrelevant to the plot, hence why I’ve always said it would have made more sense for her anger to be about him lying but they never make her bring that up when it was a far bigger betrayal. it’s not about her realising her life always mattered. she doesn’t grow whatsoever from the trauma based martyrdom mindset she has in part 1. she’s the same at 19 as she was at 14. she’s stagnant. and that’s literally bcus she’s nothing more than a fucking prop in a story that let the plot lead the characters instead of the characters leading the plot like what arc is there to defend here? the whole game even has this running theme that ellie is on this rampage cus she’s a mirror of joel he taught her anger and violence (which is wrong! but that’s another post) and now look at her she’s just like him! the narrative doesn’t even let her be a fully realised person she’s just what joel’s *made her* even after his death but sure she’s not just a prop and she gets her own arc in part 2 lmao give me a fucking break.

[pilferingapples]

An Impromptu Ranking of Hugolian Adoptive Parental Figures

Ursus,The Man Who Laughs : I know everyone's going to want Valjean to be first place, but he's not. Ursus takes the lead not only because he's got two adopted kids, but because he does what no other dad-mom-general-adoptive-parent on the list does, and actually does the grubby hands-on work of Raising Kids. He doesn't have maids or nannies or nuns or any help; he's just a guy living in his traveling van and raising up a couple kids (who arrived at his door horribly sick and injured, even, which he manages to treat?? ) with zero support except for a literal wolf. He's honest with them and openly loving and teaches them how to survive in their own time and society. Too bad about the kids existing in a really bleak Hugo novel, but you did great, Ursus. 10/10.

Jean Valjean, Les Miserables: He loves Cosette SO much and tries SO hard! Second place only because (1) during the convent years, he sees Cosette for one hour a day , and while that limitation is definitely not his ideal choice,it does mean he's just not the constant primary caregiver the way Ursus is and (3) More Trauma means More Problems, and especially So Many Communications Issues. Plus a really really misguided faith in the importance of attaining bourgeoisdom. IDEK , man. Heroic efforts, heroic failures, 18/18 Napoleonic Antithesis Points maybe?

Lethierry, Toilers of the Sea: a decent normal guy raising his niece, who has very normal 19C Dad Faults-- too much trust in stereotyped gender roles, and too much focus on his job at the expense of his domestic life. Absolute middle of the road, not heroic as a parent but also doesn't do anything that makes me go "holy shit NO , dude" . He's just a humanly flawed but caring parental figure. 5/10 complete middle of the road

Cimourdain, Ninety-Three: Listen I LIKE Cimourdain. I respect his whole narrative arc. I think he's probably the most interesting character in the novel. But he loses Parenting Points for (1) not being the primary hands-on caregiver for large chunks of his adopted kid's life and (2) uh. the whole. the thing where he kills his adopted kid. There are circumstances yes I know but still . If you are directly responsible for the death of your kid you are going to lose points in the parenting games. That's just how it is. 4/4 with full symbolic meaning of the number.

Frollo, Notre Dame de Paris: HOLY SHIT NO, DUDE.

Semi-adopted THREE kids and TWO died horribly and he directly threatened the life of the last one. Even before then he's not a GREAT parent, largely leaving the raising of his sort-of sons up to others, locking one up in a single building, letting another fall into addiction, and the third go starving and homeless on the streets. So it's already not doin' great but arguably he's Trying?

But then he wants to bang a teenager, and decides they're all expendable. Absolute worst reason for the absolute worst parenting decisions. 8/8 you ARE the Fatalité , dude, look within and quit blaming your issues on teenagers.

Honorable Mentions: Radoub, Ninety-Three: gets the "like a mother" comparison, goes through a firefight for his adopted kids, stays sweet and cheerful and soft around the babies to the end. Gets set here because he's NOT an adoptive single parent, he's actually co-parenting with the kids' birth mom and they are delightful platonic parenting partners. We wish you, Michelle, and the kids all the best , Radoub! Good job getting out of your novel without killing anyone you love!

Gavroche, Les Miserables: OK he only manages to adopt the momes for an evening, and for an adult I'd be docking All The Points for that, but for an unparented 12 year old he is doing GREAT. He even kept looking for them afterwards! The biggest and most sincere You Tried star for you, Gavroche, it's not your fault you're all getting atomized hard enough to explode a barricade.

Dishonorable Mentions:

Gillenormand, Les Miserables : If you're gonna hold a kid as a financial hostage and destroy his dad's life because the kid's soooooo important to you, you might also try making sure that kid has any way to know that you actually give a damn about him? Maybe at least don't beat him with sticks? Legos be under your feet forever, Gillenormand!

The Slaveowner Uncle in Bug Jargal : absolutely perish

[eating-plastic]

Written in the Stars: M.Rasmodius x FEM!Reader SMUT

Warnings: nsfw, smut (minors and ageless blogs gtfo) age gap (older man-younger woman, reader is +18 OBVIOUSLY), p in v sex, unprotected sex (remember protection irl y'all), creampie, oral sex (fem receiving because Rasmo eats pussy like a champ and I will not take any criticism), fingering, outdoor sex, reader loses the ol' v card, some swearing, reader having kinda shitty parents, soulmates thingy, slow burn, fluff, probably some grammatical errors

Word Count: 11056 Words

A/N: Oh Rasmo, how I wish I could romance you in the base game. God bless to the Stardew Valley modding community tho for making romancing him possible. Specifically, scenes in this are based on mods by PaintedParrot and WerewolfMaster. May both sides of their pillows always be cold lol. Anyways, this is long, so if you're just here for the smut, you're gonna be scrolling a bit. Either way, enjoy, everyone!

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

'....There is always a conflict when creating life. Just how much free will do you give a living being? This was a question that the old gods wondered about during the creation of humanity.... In the end, the old gods agreed that the life they created would be given free will, but those that were worthy enough to wield their powers would be given gifts. A life that would be manipulated to be filled with joys as they would see fit. Each one of the old gods granted those worthy of their power with many gifts....And the deity of love gifted the followers of the arcane with a soulmate, rewriting the stars so that they would meet the one who would give them eternal happiness on the mortal and astral plain.'

Your opinion on magic was complicated. You were fascinated with the supernatural but knew that it couldn't be real. The life you lived was filled with science and miserable realism. Not to mention those that mock your interests. What a miserable world where you were forced to go to school, in order to get a mundane job, where you would just work to your death. No mythical creatures or spells.

That was until you got a letter in your mailbox.

It was a letter that under normal circumstances would make a person upset. However, you just felt confused reading it. Your grandfather had passed away and he left his farm plot to you. That didn't make any sense. Your parents said both of your grandparents had died before you were born. You never had any photos with them. Come to think of it, you never had any photos taken with any relative that weren't your parents. Not to mention where the farm was. Stardew Valley? You had never heard of a place like that, and your father was a geography teacher. You knew counties and villages that were forgotten to time. Oh yes, your parents had some explaining to do for sure.

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

You confronted your parents the first chance you could. You just wanted answers. Surely this was all just a big misunderstanding. A letter that was meant to go to someone with a similar name to you or something.

But no, your parents had broken. You had a grandfather, specifically it was your paternal grandfather. Your dad felt miserable living in such a small village, feeling alone and bored with farm living. When he became old enough to head to the city, he met your mother and claimed to have gotten a "proper education". Stardew Valley became "dangerous" to him after that, so he left.

Eventually, your mother had guilted him into visiting your grandfather so that you would get to know him. She had never been to Pelican Town, hell she didn't even know that it existed like most people. Upon arriving though, she regretted it. The last time they had taken you to visit your grandfather, you were only four years old.

"Godless, hellish, unexplainable," was how they described Stardew Valley, and yet you didn't believe them. They were the ones always preaching about how this life, bleak and cruel, was enjoyable. How you were always just complaining over nothing. They never cared about how unhappy you were, often dashing your love for the supernatural, raving about the evils of witchcraft.

So you turned your back on them. You didn't know if Stardew Valley would hold the key to your happiness, but you had no doubts in your mind that it would be less bleak than where you were now.

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

As soon as the bus pulled into the small village of Pelican Town, you were stupefied. First of all, you had never seen so much color in your entire life. Secondly, the scenery was absolutely beautiful, with lush trees and rolling green hills. The buildings were cute too, cozy even. And the air was so fresh and clear.

Even when you arrived at your grandfather's old farmhouse you felt taken aback. It was so simple, so cozy, so human.

Yes, you were going to enjoy your new life here. You were sure of it.

Suddenly, you sense something...off. Not bad, just off. You head out of the farmhouse and head to the overgrown fields. There you catch a glimpse of purple. Upon getting closer, you see that it is a girl about your age with violet hair. Was it possible to dye your hair such a bright color?

"Um, excuse me?" you call.

"Hm? Oh, hi!" she greets, a bit startled at your presence. "That's right, someone was moving in. Sorry about this."

"It's fine. Um, what are you doing?" you ask. You had never met someone so cheerful.

"Oh, you know, old, abandoned places always have some sort of spiritual energy to them. I just wanted to see if I could sense it," She stands up from her position on the ground.

"You believe in the paranormal?" you cock your head to the side, amazed.

"Yeah, there's all sorts of supernatural shit here. A lot of people claim that there's not, but don't believe them. They know there's something going on. Why would they be so scared of that old wizard if they didn't?" she rambles. Wait, what the hell was she talking about?

"I-what? Wizard?" you never thought it was possible for someone to say something so outlandish that it actually made your brain malfunction.

"Hm, Yeah! He hangs out in this creepy tower in the Cindersap Forest. I...um," the girl stops, face dropping a bit. Suddenly, she just shakes her head, recovering from whatever had distracted her. "Never mind that! I'm Abigail, by the way!"

"Y/N," you say, simply. Was this girl crazy? There was no way that she was for real, right? Still...it was nice to meet someone as passionate as you about the supernatural. "Hey...you wouldn't happen to know about areas that have spiritual energy to them, would you?"

"Um, of course I do! Are you into the paranormal, too?" Abigail asks eagerly.

"I...I am, actually," wow, it was weird admitting it without being mocked or belittled.

"Sweet! Hey, it's going to be a full moon soon. That's like, the perfect time for spirits to come out. Meet me in the old graveyard if you can. We can try a séance," she rambles.

"Yeah, that does sound fun...I'll be there," you decide.

"Cool! See you then, Y/N!" and with that, she skips out of your field.

Well, this was certainly going to be interesting.

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

Your friendship with Abigail bloomed since that day. It was nice having someone as fascinated with the occult as you. When you weren't farming, you were exploring around with her, looking for some sort of energy in an area. The funny thing was that you could always sense something when she couldn't. At least she didn't think you were crazy though, always eager that you could feel a vibe she couldn't and begging you to describe what you felt.

Now, you two were doing something that could be seen as a bit, um...illegal. Well, where you came from it would be seen as illegal, but apparently in Pelican Town, no one really seemed to care? You decided to not think about it too much.

Abigail wanted to drag you to the rundown Community Center because there were allegedly "forest spirits" that had taken residence inside. Also, she was apparently taking you with her, because she was a bit too scared to enter the building by herself.

Everything about it seemed odd, as you would expect forest spirits to take residence in an abandoned building in a, well, forest. You didn't care though, because it intrigued you. You could sense something within Stardew Valley, and that sparked a desire to know what that sensation was.

Upon entering the decrepit building, you didn't know what you expected to run into. You knew you would find...something. The building radiated a strong aura, even when the both of you were just simply standing outside of it. If you had to predict what you would've run into, you expected it to be maybe a mystical animal sprite.

What you both did run into completely dashes your expectations. What you and Abigail find is...a colony of cutesy...apple looking creatures? Huh, you definitely couldn't have predicted that. While you think they look adorable, Abigail was absolutely frozen beside you, amazed.

"Y/N...do you know what those are?" she whispers to you. You almost don't hear her. You are too distracted by how the little creatures were looking at you. They didn't seem malicious, at least you couldn't feel anything negative about them. Another odd thing, was the fact that they seem to completely disregard Abigail's presence.

"Wha-no. Of course not," you whisper back when your brain finally registers that she asked you a question.

"I can't believe it...I didn't even think they were real," she is still in absolute awe.

"What? What are they?"

"Junimos. They're said to take care of the forests in Stardew Valley. At least that's what stories always said."

Interesting. Once again, you would think that creatures that are meant to take care of forests would be...a bit bigger. Also less cute.

The spirits all whisper to themselves, all while still glancing at you. Finally, one of them jumps up and makes its way over to you, wielding something in its hands.

"Y/N!" Abigail whisper yells to you and tries to pull you away, but you raise your hand for her to wait.

The Junimo stands in front of you and raises its arms, presenting you with what looks like a scroll.

"F...for me?" you ask, confused. The spirit does a little hop, indicating that yes, they wanted you to take it.

So you did. You carefully took it from the creature, giving a little nod and saying "thank you" to them. The spirit gives you a nod back and runs back to their friends. You unravel the scroll and...you have no idea what you're looking at. It just looks like a bunch of scribbles and symbols you can't understand.

"Woah, what is that?" Abigail asks, trying to read it too.

"I-I don't know. Clearly they want me to take it though," you glance up, but all the Junimo have gone back to the tasks they were doing before you two had entered. "Come on, let's get out of here. Maybe I can understand it better in sunlight?"

You highly doubt it, but still. So you both leave, and just as you suspected, the scroll made even less sense.

"Maybe...do you think there could be books at the library that can help us translate this?" you ask.

"I don't think so. I've read every book possible on the languages of different spirits. I don't...," Abigail trails off, suddenly becoming fidgety.

"What? What's wrong?" you quickly become concerned at her change in demeanor.

"There...there might be someone that can help," she mumbles.

"Really? Who?"

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

The large tower that stands in front of you and Abigail gives you both entirely different reactions. While you look at it with fascination, she looks at it with discomfort.

"So this 'Wizard' guy...he might be able to translate this?" you say, still in disbelief that there is an actual wizard in the small town despite running into literal forest spirits and sensing a powerful, magical aura from the tower.

"Stop saying it like that. This dude's the real deal, I swear," she wrings her hands a bit, clearly uneasy.

"Alright then," you begin to walk towards the front door.

"Wh-What are you doing?" she whisper yells at you once more. "Y-You're just gonna ask him? Just like that?"

"I have to translate this. I...I think the Junimo gave it to me for a reason. I have to know," you look at your friend, who is still looking at you incredulously. "You can leave if you get a bad vibe, but I really don't feel anything negative at all."

Abigail opens her mouth to speak, but closes it. She then begins to slowly back away. You sigh and continue to walk towards the door. You knock on it and wait. Suddenly, it slowly swings open, but no one is there. You turn to look at Abigail, but she was long gone.

'Great,' you thought. 'Honestly, what is she so scared of?'

You make your way into the tower, standing in an entryway filled with plants you had never seen before. It's interesting, but you have a scroll to translate, so you continue to walk forward, heading up a small flight of steps.

You then find yourself in a large room, with a bubbling cauldron and a large symbol on the floor in a corner of the room. Standing in front of it, is an older man with purple hair and beard, dressed in black robes and wearing a hat that looks like a mix between a wizard hat and a cowboy hat. His eyes are closed, and yet he senses your presence.

"Ah, yes...come in," he says, before slowly opening his eyes and looking at you. He then stops, his eyes widening as they fall on you, as if he recognizes you. Odd, considering the fact that you had never seen him before. You would've definitely remembered. And yet, you too felt like you had seen him...somewhere.

"I-I'm sorry about bothering you, sir, b-but I think you can help me with something," you ask, sheepish because of his gaze.

"Help...ah, yes, help!," he quickly tries to shake the odd sensation he must've felt, clears his throat, and makes his way over to you. "I am Magnus Rasmodius. Seeker of the arcane truths. Mediary between physical and ethereal. Master of the seven elementals. Keeper of the sacred cha-...erm, you get the point."

He quickly wraps up his ramblings when he sees you give him a funny look. Everyone in Pelican Town fears this guy? He seems like a total dork. Not that you had a problem with that. You honestly found it cute.

"I see...well, I'm-."

"Y/N," he finishes, which causes you to be taken aback. "I know. I had foreseen your arrival. You have come to me to translate something, correct?"

"I...how...?" you shake your head. Damn, Abigail was right, this guy really does seem like the real deal. "Y-Yes, that is why I'm here."

"Naturally. Come, let me show you something," he motions for you to stand closer to the symbol on the floor. He then raises his hand and a look of concentration spreads across his face. "Behold!"

There is a bright flash, and a Junimo appears in the center of the symbol. You jump back, startled, even blinking a couple of times to make sure your eyes weren't playing tricks on you.

"You've encountered these before, correct?" he looks at your amazed face expectantly and tries to push down the amusement he felt at your childlike wonder at what happened.

"Hm? Oh-yes! I-I have," you nod. "It's a Junimo, right?"

"Correct, mysterious creatures they are. For some reason, they refuse to speak with me. And yet...," he trails off, looking back at the spirit. He raises his hand once more and they disappear in another bright flash. "They gifted you a scroll, yes?"

"Y-Yeah...is that...bad?" you awkwardly ask.

"Not at all. Just interesting...," he continues to stare where the spirit once stood, before once again shaking his head. "May I look at it?"

He holds his hand out, at which you hand him the scroll. He unravels it and takes in the writing.

"Yes, this seems about right. One moment, if you please. I shall return, shortly," and just like that, in a flash, he is gone. You look around the room cautiously, feeling out of place in a stranger's home. Your eyes fall on the cauldron once more and the green smoke being excreted from it. In all your years of chemistry, you don't think you had ever seen something like that.

Suddenly, there is another flash of light, causing you to jump once more. There the wizard stands, making his way to his cauldron.

"I have found it," he says, a bit exhausted. "Forgive me, it took a bit. The language is rather obscure."

"What does it say?" you ask, unable to hide your eagerness.

"'We, the Junimo, are happy to aid you. In return, we ask for gifts of the valley. If you are one with the forest, then you will see the true nature of this scroll,'" he recites. This causes you to cock your head to the side. "It would seem that they have taken a great interest in you...."

"Th-That's not bad, right?"

"Of course not. In fact, it is quite fascinating...," he takes a large ladle that rests within the cauldron and begins to stir. "I had wondered what compelled me to make this...."

He then raises the ladle to his nose and sniffs.

"Ah-hah! Yes, just as I thought," he then turns to you and motions for you to come closer. "Come here!"

You hesitantly move to stand next to him, which causes him to tense up a bit. Still, he clears his throat and collects himself.

"I had wondered what they had meant by "one with the forest". I think this may help. My cauldron bubbles with the essence of the forest," you look at him confused, so he explains it to you. "Baby fern, moss grub, caramel-top toadstool...can you smell it?"

He holds the ladle to your nose, which you inhale.

"It smells earthy," you conclude.

"Precisely. Here, drink it. Let the essence of the forest flow through you."

You look up at the wizard, shocked. Was he serious? He expected you to drink something from a stranger?

"It'll be alright, see," he raises the ladle to his lips and drinks a sip from it. He gives you a reassuring smile, which melts your nerves a bit, although it could've helped that he actually drank whatever was in the cauldron.

So you drink it, putting your trust in him. For some reason, there was a voice in your head that was telling you that he wouldn't let harm befall you.

The taste hits you hard. It's bitter and tastes like what you imagined the ingredients he mentioned would taste like. Still, you force it down, letting out a shaky breath afterwards.

Then the effects of the fluid hits. Your vision begins to go green. Not black, green, which actually freaked you out more due never experiencing it before. Then...you feel a calm rush through your veins. Your breathing becomes normal once more, and then....

You wake up in your home. Wait...what? No, that wasn't a dream, that couldn't have been. Looking out your window told you that it was now late afternoon. Jeez, how long had you been out? How did you even get back here? Did the wizard carry you? You were so confused, but at least you felt well rested.

You leave your bed and head outside to check on your crops, before noticing that you had a letter in your mailbox. You open it, and get some answers from it.

'Dear Y/N, my deepest apologies. I did not expect you to react so severely to the elixir. I hope you can forgive me. I made sure you got home safely and have given you back the scroll so that you may fulfill what the Junimo have asked of you. Please rest up as needed. -M.Rasmodius.'

You didn't know how to respond to the letter. Under normal circumstances you should've been outraged or confused. Instead, you found the letter to be sweet.

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

Truth be told, Rasmodius was happy to get you out of his tower as fast as possible so that he may have a chance to think. There was no way you could've been who he thought you were. That strong pull towards you, the rush of electricity through his veins as his eyes fell upon you, you clearly radiating a connection to the arcane.

No, not after his luck with love. You couldn't have been the one. He didn't believe that he had such. He had accepted that the deity of love never wanted him to have a dearest companion. Especially someone as young and beautiful.

Still..., if you weren't his soulmate...perhaps you could serve well as an apprentice.

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

Abigail hounded you the next day. She was so worried about you which you found humorous. The wizard seemed like he wouldn't even harm a fly. Well, unless he had too, but that's besides the point. What was important was the fact that you could now not only read the language of the Junimo, but just as you expected as you went back to the Community Center, you could understand them as well.

They had asked you for offerings. "Bundles" was the word they used. When a bundle would be completed, they would bless the community with a gift, something to benefit the villagers. If all bundles are fulfilled, the Community Center shall be returned to its former glory.

This was definitely not something you would've been expected to do back in your home city. If you were to explain it to anyone from there, they would think you were utterly mad. And yet, it was just what you desired. A quest to satiate some magical creatures that had put their trust in you? Of course you would do whatever you could to complete it.

Needless to say, Abigail thought you were the coolest friend she ever had, and promised to aid you however she could.

So you got started right away. You began with what you could do first. Completing whatever felt easiest, and working up to the more difficult bundles to be completed. And yet, despite the joy you felt when completing a bundle, the praise of a Junimo when accepting your offering, and the reward for your effort, you still felt like there was more you could do. After all, once the Community Center was completed, what then? You wouldn't allow this to be the end of your mythical adventures. So you decided to visit a certain someone that would make sure those quests never ended. At least, that was what you told yourself when you began to desire seeing Rasmodius again.

So you walked back into the Cindersap Forest and towards his tower. You knock and wait for the door to open on its own once more, before entering.

The wizard was standing right in the same spot he was when you had first met him.

"Ah, Y/N. I foresaw your coming, today. Please join me," he holds his hand out for you to come closer. You do as he tells you, less hesitantly this time. "Forgive me, but I must know. How goes your quest with the Junimo, hm?"

"Oh, it's going great!" you go on to eagerly explain what was asked of you and your progress. Rasmodius smiles at your enthusiasm, his heart even beating a bit faster.

"Excellent. Just as I thought, they had put their faith in you, Y/N. Do not falter."

"I won't," you smile up at him, a bit of pride flowing through you. Suddenly, the wizard clears his throat, composing himself once more.

"You are destined to do great things, Y/N. That is why it is good you came. I have something for you," he begins, causing you to look up at him curiously.

"What is it?" you ask, unable to hide your intrigue.

"A lesson in the pervasive energies of the world," he explains, which causes you to look at him oddly.

"I-I'm sorry, um, what do you mean?"

"Let me explain," he then motions to the stone floor. "Do you see this symbol here?"

"Yes. I was wondering about it," you say, trying to analyze it. Did you see it in a book somewhere?

"I imagined so," he nods. "This is a gate. A portal to another world. A doorway through which an elemental can traverse or a window through which I can peer."

With Rasmodius' explanation, your fascination with the symbol grows. All you can utter is a noise of awe, which once again amuses the wizard.

"Indeed, Now, tell me, have you ever encountered an elemental?" he asks. You think a bit, until your eyes widen a bit at a revelation.

No, you hadn't seen an elemental in person, but you read about them in a book Abigail had given you. You also remembered seeing the symbol in the book as well.

"No, but I've read about them," you explain, which causes the wizard's eyes to widen a bit. "They are creatures made up of the properties of our universe. They can only bond with those who can properly use magic."

"That is correct," he trails off, before shaking his head. "Your intrigue with such beings is fascinating."

"Isn't everyone? Creatures that shouldn't exist, creatures that go against everything we know about science, still occupy the same world we do," you cock your head to the side.

"Yes, but they still don't believe that they are real. Just creatures created for fantasy," he sighs. "That is why your interest in the manner is rather captivating...that is why the spirits must have taken a great interest in you."

You look at the wizard, stupefied. When you decided to visit him today, you didn't really expect this.

"You sense them, correct? Even when those around you cannot?" he asks.

"Yes," you then begin to think. "In fact, ever since I drank that elixir you made, they have only gotten stronger...voices getting louder."

"As mentioned, you are destined to do great things, Y/N. I have no doubts in my mind that your abilities may...attract greater attention," he looks into your eyes, and you can swear you see a bit of longing within them. Perhaps that was just you though, as he quickly blinks it away. "Serve the world and be at peace."

The sound of his front door opening causes you to turn your head. Taking it as your time to leave, you nod back at Rasmodius and bid him farewell. You had your crops to tend to, and Abigail wanted you to go frog hunting with her.

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

It was a warm, sunny day, and when days were warm and sunny, you found yourself hanging outside. Especially since you enjoyed listening to the voices of the forest. You found yourself in the Cindersap Forest once more but you did not intend to visit Rasmodius. You wondered if the spirits around a wizard's home were any different then those that were not. Maybe stronger, maybe louder, maybe....

A force stops you when you come across a clearing. You don't know what it is, but it is a force that wants you to watch something. Something that the wizard was doing.

He was standing in the center of the clearing, his eyes closed and face strained with concentration. It looks like the forest was being illuminated by a blue light. He then raises his hand to the sky, and holds it for a moment, before his eyes flutter open and his body relaxes. You don't even realize that whatever was holding you had let you go.

"It is alright, Y/N. You may approach," he turns his head to you. You leave from your spot at the tree line and move to him.

"What were you doing?" you inquire.

"Just assessing the barrier," he glances back up to the sky. "It should last 6 more seasons."

"Barrier?" you look up but don't see anything odd.

"Let me explain," he looks back at you. "While Stardew Valley may seem tranquil, monsters do lurk in its darker corners, particularly deep in the woods. West of my tower, there are dangerous slimes that attack any human they see."

"Like...more dangerous than the ones in the mines?" you ask. You had started exploring the mines a little while ago, and you had your fair share of encounters with slimes of varying colors.

"Indeed," he affirms. "And as the magic practitioner of Stardew Valley and Pelican Town, it is my responsibility to maintain the magical barrier that prevents the monsters from attacking."

"Wow," you glance upwards once more. "That...sounds like a lot of pressure."

"It is, but it is something I must do. When a witch or wizard chooses their home, they also swear to protect the residents of that home," he explains.

"Is it hard?" you ask, which causes Rasmodius to chuckle. The sound makes your heart skip a bit.

"Not after having a lot of practice," he shakes his head amused. "Although, the barrier I keep isn't too vast. There are many witches and wizards that maintain barriers that dwarf mine considerably. Those do take a considerable amount of mana."

"Well then," you give him a small smile. "Thank you for your protection."

Your words cause him to smile back. No one ever thanked him, and he never expected such, but it still felt nice. Especially since it was coming from you. Suddenly, he pauses before looking at the sun.

"Ah, my apologies, Y/N. I must attend a council meeting."

You open your mouth to ask him what he meant, but he had already disappeared in a flash of light. You sigh, but look towards the sky once more. It was a noble thing, protecting those that seem to fear him. Those that probably never thanked him.

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

Your connection with the spirits of Stardew Valley only grew, especially as you approached the last few bundles for the Junimo. As such, Abigail would tag along with you on your walks into the forest to hear what the voices within would say. You had no problems translating for her, especially since the spirits had taken a liking to her because of her passion.

You also found yourself discussing anything significant in your conversations with Rasmodius, as he had taken great interest in your connection with the forest spirits. You would also visit his tower when you were curious about something you had read in a book on the supernatural.

That was what you were doing now. You had read something that had intrigued you, so you entered the Cindersap Forest on a quest for answers. You knocked on the door to the wizard's tower, but it didn't open on its own like it usually would.

'He must be at a meeting or something,' you think, before turning to walk away. 'Maybe next-'

Slowly, the front door creaks open. You look back at it, confused, but enter. He must've just got back.

You enter the tower and call his name, but get no answer. Odd. He's not in the main room. You even checked his bedroom, but nothing. You think about leaving, until you remember a staircase leading downwards in the entryway.

You walk down the steps, still calling for Rasmodius and getting nothing in return. Upon entering the basement of the tower, you pause, a rush of energy flooding through you. You wonder what he does down here to make you feel such an aura.

You find yourself being pulled to a room full of books. It's cozy, a room you desire for your own farm. Maybe the next time you speak with Robin, you can discuss it with her. Maybe you'd even include the strange shrine as well. The thought makes you chuckle.

Your eyes scan the many books on the shelves until one calls to you. You pull the book from its place and open it carefully, as it looks quite old.

'....The deity of nature gifted her followers a connection to the Earth. Those that could both wield the powers of the arcane and worship her offerings, would have their stars rewritten. Their crops would always grow plentiful. Their animals always healthy. The spirits of the trees would regard them as their own, granting them their trust. And if they satisfied the requests of the spirits, they would be gifted great rewards....'

'Interesting,' you continue to read on. 'A deity of nature...I wonder what other deities there are. What do they gift?'

Suddenly, a bright flash of light appears beside you, causing you to jump. The wizard now stands before you.

"What are you doing? I only allow those I trust down here," he demands, before his eyes cast down to the book in your hands.

"I-I was j-just wondering where you were, a-and I-I just," you trail off, shaking a bit.

"Hm," he moves closer to you and glances at your book. "This book is over a hundred years old. It details both the history of life itself and the history of users of witchcraft...quite an odd book for you to find intriguing."

"I-I don't know...I find it interesting," you defend, a bit confused at his change in demeanor.

"I see...," he thinks, before shaking his head. "Forgive me, it seems I had forgotten whom I have been talking to. You hunger for knowledge, Y/N. You desire to know the explanations to all of the mysteries the arcane holds."

"I do," you agree, which causes him to nod.

"Visitors from the town here are rare, and not one of them has been drawn to my books," the wizard laments. "My teachings would be insufficient if I never let you quench your thirst for knowledge. For that reason, I shall grant you access to my basement. As long as you promise to stay away from the 'Shrine of Illusions' and the warp hall, you may read any of the books in my collection that interest you."

"Really?" your eyes light up and a smile grows on your face.

"Yes," he chuckles out at your reaction. "Just don't open them too far, as it could crack the spines. Some of these books are hundreds of years old."

"I promise, I will be careful," you look down at the book in your hands and back up at him, before throwing your arms around him in an embrace. "Thank you so much, Rasmodius."

Your hug startles him and makes his body heat up. Oh how he desperately wants to throw his arms around you too. Still, he settles with awkwardly patting your back.

"You are dearly welcome...perhaps I may even be able to teach you some light magic as well," he remarks, causing you to pull away.

"I would like that very much."

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

As your knowledge of the arcane grew, so did your abilities that Rasmodius would teach you. You visited him often, whether to read or for a lesson. It was odd, having someone occupy the same space as him after being alone for so long, but the wizard didn't complain. However, he still questioned if you truly were his soulmate. He longed for you, really he did, but you could've very well been another test. If he had loved and lost before, why couldn't you be the same?

So he tried to stay professional, and when that failed he tried to stay cordial. He enjoyed your presence, and if he couldn't have you as a lover, he'd have you as a friend.

Your thoughts on him weren't as complex. You saw him as a wonderful teacher, and as an eccentric friend. You especially would enjoy when he would go on tangents about things he was most passionate about. It reminded you that despite being powerful and almost intimidating, he was still a lovable dork. You had to admit, you were crushing on him a little bit.

You went to visit the wizard on a relatively nice day. Not because you wanted to learn or read anything in particular, but because you wanted to hang out with him if you could.

You arrive and find him outside, muttering something to the plants in his garden.

"Hi, Rasmodius!" you chirp, approaching him.

"Good afternoon, Y/N. I'll be with you shortly," he greets.

"What are you doing?" you cock your head to the side.

"Just a simple protection spell," he explains. "There has been a recent influx of locusts in the forest. I'm just making sure they don't come after my fruit. It's much more efficient than your typical pesticides."

"Really? Wow, you're gonna have to teach me that for my own crops," you remark, causing him to chuckle.

"I don't think you will have to worry, but if it puts your thoughts at ease," with that, he finishes up the spell for the rest of his fruit. Once he finishes, his face drops. "I need to maintain a layer of magical protections on these plants anyway. My ex wife hated them...said they were a sign I was growing soft."

"That's awful," you gasp.

"She still tries to lay the odd hex or two on them when she's out flying at night," he replies, nodding. This only causes a small inferno to spark within you. Not only because it affected your friend, but also because it felt like a slap in the face with your love of farming. What a horrible woman!

"Hmph, well I hope karma bites her back for that," you mutter angrily. Your reaction causes him to mumble something to himself.

"It's one of the reasons Caroline and I....She has a lovely sunroom, you see. Oh well...," though it is soft, you can still hear it. At the mention of Caroline's name, a bit of jealousy sparks within you, even though it seems like whatever he had with her had ended. Rasmodius just shakes his head and clears his throat. "It's difficult. While I love the solitude of the forest, and I enjoy my duties of protecting the Valley...but even a wizard gets disheartened at having his heart broken twice."

Your gaze on him softens, although you do think about how you wouldn't be able to visit Abigail's home now that you were developing a bit of a hate-on for her mom. Upon seeing the sympathetic look in your eyes, the wizard just shakes his head.

"Do not worry about it, Y/N. I will be alright. I'm...," he stops, deciding to change directions with his words. "I'm certainly not in a hurry to give it a third try...but if I do happen to fall in love again someday, it will be with someone who can appreciate a good garden."

"Well, my farm does have an awful lot of plants," you find yourself saying, not realizing you had said it out loud and not in your head until he starts laughing.

"I suppose you are right. But remember, even once you get past the plants, there is the smell of the cauldron," he smiles, before turning to enter his tower. "If you would excuse me, I have business to attend to inside, now that my plants have been adequately protected."

"Y-Yeah, right, um," your face feels hot. "I should probably go too. I'll see you tomorrow, Rasmodius."

"Please, from here on out, call me Magnus. I believe we are past the point of formalities and it's less of a mouthful," he quips.

"Right, well...see you tomorrow, Magnus," you rephrase. He's right, it is a lot easier to say.

"Of course," he muses. "And you as well, Y/N."

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

If you had to describe your relationship with Magnus to someone, you would describe it like the drop of a roller coast. Climbing up that large hill of your friendship, and now at the top. The cart is teetering in-between platonic and romantic. The two of you truly have been growing closer, getting to a point where you felt like you needed to see each other at least once a day.

You had never felt this way towards anyone before, it was such a strong pull you felt towards him that you couldn't explain, so after a long day of tending to your crops and animals, you went to visit his tower. Sure, it was a bit late...okay very late, but you knew he would be happy to see you again.

Nowadays, you would still knock on his front door, but would let yourself in without waiting for it to open by itself. You call for Magnus but receive no answer. Upon entering the main room of the tower, however, you found him muttering to himself while mixing something in his cauldron.

Suddenly, he curses in frustration and begins to pace back and forth in front of it. You make your way towards him, concerned.

"Magnus?"

The wizard jumps at your voice, before relaxing when he realizes it's just you.

"Y/N, I apologize. I didn't hear you enter," he places a hand over his heart and takes a deep breath. "It would seem you caught me in the midst of some rather delicate work."

"Oh, really? What are you doing?" you ask, intrigued.

"I find myself in need of a way to produce artificial energies for my own use," he explains, though it doesn't answer your question that much.

"And what might that be?" you push, causing him to let out a defeated sigh.

"I...um...have not been sleeping lately. I hoped to remedy that with this ritual, but I have only achieved frustration, as you might've noticed," he pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes out a tired breath.

"That's terrible. Is there no sleeping elixir recipe out there?" you question. You couldn't imagine the last time you got a poor night sleep. Surely it must've been before moving here.

"This was the last one I tried," he mutters, before looking at you. "Tell me, Y/N, what do you do when you cannot sleep?"

"I wish I could tell you, but I really don't remember the last time I couldn't," you reply sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Magnus."

"Hm, just my luck," he shakes his head.

"Have you tried common, non magical ways? Tea? Meditation?" you throw out.

"Believe me, I have tried everything that the mundane do first," he moves past you to pace around his portal, grumbling to himself. "I am doomed to toil until I succeed or fall into my own cauldron."

You just shake your head and follow him, grabbing his arm to stop him.

"Magnus, enough," you say, sternly. "If even magic won't work, then the only thing left to do is just lay down."

"I can assure you I've tried that," he mutters.

"Well then, I guess I'm staying here until you try again," you figure.

He sighs once more, and stares down at you. Unfortunately for him, you weren't showing any signs of backing down, which causes him to relent.

"Oh, very well. I will try again. But just know that I will be back at this as soon as you leave."

"Whelp, I guess that means I'm staying the night, then," you quip, which causes his face to heat up and for him to clear his throat.

"Yes...well," he thinks for a moment, before giving you a tired smile. "It'll be quite difficult for you to keep yourself entertained watching me sleep."

You just shrug, and follow him into his small bedroom. He mutters something to himself, and in a flash of light he is now dressed in...oddly casual pajamas. He then crawls under the covers of his bed, but smirks at the strange look on your face.

"What?"

"Nothing...just surprised that you dress like a normal person for bed," you tease. "I thought you would've worn a night shirt or long underwear."

Magnus laughs and shakes his head.

"Believe me, I find the simplicity of these to be a lot more comfortable. Just promise to not tell anyone in the village about it."

"Ha! They wouldn't believe me even if I got a picture of you," you make your way over to his side of the bed and sit on the edge now that he seems comfortable. His smile begins to fade and he lets out a sigh.

"Y/N," he begins, eyes starting to get heavy and moving to take your hand.

"Yes, Magnus?" you let him hold your hand and squeeze it reassuringly.

"Please...don't let me...dream...," and with that, he nods off. What an odd request. Still, you would do it. You honestly would probably do anything he asked you.

You sit there for a bit, watching his peaceful face as he sleeps. You promised you would stay all night, so why not get comfortable yourself? After all, his bed was big enough for two. You carefully stand up and move to the other side. You then quietly mutter the same spell he did, replacing your previous clothes with your own pajamas.

Now dressed to sleep, you gently climb onto the bed, keeping yourself above the covers fearing that sleeping under them would've been too far. Jeez, his bed was comfy, and as soon as your head rested on the pillows, you fell asleep.

What did he have trouble sleeping for?

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

As morning rolls over Stardew Valley, Magnus stirs and slowly blinks open his eyes. Did he really sleep all night? Not to mention the fact that he didn't dream once. He smiles to himself, realizing that you by his side really did help him. He sits up to stretch but pauses as he feels something, or more accurately someone, moving behind him. He glances over his shoulder, and his eyes widen. He couldn't believe what he was looking at.

There you were sleeping peacefully on the other side of his bed. You look so serene, the glow from the sunlight illuminating your beauty. The scene makes him smile, before averting his eyes and shifting a bit when he sees that your pajamas was a pretty night dress.

You yawn and sit up, stretching yourself. When you open your eyes, you let out a surprised gasp.

"What's wrong?" Magnus turns back to look at you concerned.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sleep here all night-or at all," you quickly try to defend, worried that you have made him uncomfortable.

"Please, do not worry about it. Your presence...,"he thinks for a moment before continuing. "Your presence was greatly appreciated."

"So you slept all night?" you ask, a small grin forming on your face.

"Yes, I did," he nods, and gives you his own smile.

"I really don't get it," you wonder. "Your bed's so comfortable, and you fell asleep rather quick. Why have you been having trouble with it?"

He looks away from you and sighs, already feeling his face heat up with shame.

"Occasionally, I find myself plagued with dark dreams...and I decide to childishly resort to avoiding sleep entirely. I must apologize for the state you found me in, but I must also thank you for choosing to stay by my side," he turns back to you and takes your hands in his. "With you by my side, I slept soundly as I have not for several weeks."

This makes your smile grow, and for your cheeks to warm up.

"Aw...you're welcome," you reply, a bit sheepish now. "You know I'm always happy to help you, Mag."

He lets out a small laugh at that. He normally was not a big fan of nicknames, but with you he would make an exception.

"Yes, well...," he squeezes your hand while he thinks. "If there is anything I can do to repay you, you have but to ask."

"Oh please, I...well," you drawl out, playfully. "If you insist...some breakfast would be nice."

"Of course. What would you like?" he asks, and you tell him what you're craving. "Alright, just a moment."

You expect him to get up and go find what you requested, but instead he holds his hand out flat and says a spell. Suddenly, a tray appears in his hand with what you asked for on it. Your eyes widen in shock.

"Yo-You can just do that? You can just summon food?" you move to touch the tray to see if it is real.

"Yes, but it can take a considerable amount of mana depending on how much food is summoned. So thank you for giving me something relatively simple," you giggle at that, before he offers you the tray. "Go ahead, and eat. Oh, and don't be afraid to ask for more if that is what you desire."

You did eat what Magnus gave you, and it was the best breakfast you had ever eaten.

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

Could you have said that your relationship with Magnus was far from friendship at that point? Yes, you absolutely could. To be fair, it is hard to keep things platonic when you both longed for each other and slept in the same bed. The real question was when things would become official, and you could finally say that you two were a couple.

Fortunately, the time came when you got a letter in your mailbox.

'Greetings YN, many untold wonders are sheltered amongst the trees. Today, in particular, a strange energy stirs in the forest. If you would like to learn more on these unknown secrets, meet me in the hidden woods North of my tower. Sincerely, Magnus.'

It was a rather formal letter, then again Mag did like to be formal when he was teaching you something. You were none the wiser to the letter's true nature, as you were too excited to know what he had found.

So you departed from your farm after taking care of your crops and animals, making your way to where you were asked to meet him.

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

You found Magnus standing in the center of what looked to have been an old shrine, with cracked pillars, pink roses, and the statue of a beautiful woman. It all looks so tranquil, a place where you could just go to be alone and think. As you approach him, he appears to be lost in thought, looking at the statue.

"Boo!" you playfully jump out and startle him out of his thoughts.

"Ah! Oh Y/N, you must grant an old wizard some mercy with tricks like that," he sighs, but a smile forms on his face at your mischievous giggle.

"Sorry, but it was just too easy," you let out in-between your impish fit. "Besides, I gotta keep this old wizard on his toes, don't I?"

His grin only widens at that and he shakes his head.

"It's good that you came," he says, almost absentmindedly.

"Why wouldn't I? You knew what you were doing when you wrote that letter."

"Yes, well," he takes a deep breath before continuing. "I'm afraid I have deceived you with what I wrote. I have brought you here for...a different purpose."

"Oh, um, okay," this confuses but still intrigues you on what he had in store for you. "Why am I here, then?"

"As you know, I have spent much of my life to divination and communication with ill-understood lifeforms," his face falls. "As such I have lost much of what comes naturally in human conversation. It is difficult for me to...oh, how is it said...?"

He trails off a bit, before placing a hand over his heart. He then glances at you and takes a step closer.

"Y/N," he takes your hands into his. "Listen. Open your mind. Open your senses. Can you hear it?"

You strain your ears to see if you can pick up the voices of the forest, but you can't hear anything.

"Hear what?" you ask, not realizing you had taken a step closer to him.

"My heart," he explains. "It pounds in my chest more fiercely than I have ever known it to."

His words make your own heart's pace speed up, and an unfamiliar warmth begins to spread throughout your body.

"The energies of the Earth surge around us. Her energy surges around us. It can be no accident. I have grown tired of lying to myself. I can no longer deny my feelings for you," his words make your eyes widen in surprise. "I truly did not think it possible after my ex wife and-oh never mind them. I care nothing for them now. I only care for you, my dearest Y/N, for you have enchanted me."

As soon as he finishes his confession, your mind replays his words in your head over and over. They make you feel like you're floating, like all of this is just a dream. Eventually, a voice whispers in your ear that you should probably respond to him.

"I feel the same way," you finally get out, although you wish you could've confessed your feelings to him in an equally beautiful way.

"Truly?" he asks, suddenly, which makes you giggle. "Ahem, I mean-that is...of course you do."

He rambles on about how he "never doubted" your feelings for him. You let him babble on though, as it's just another reminder of how he was a dork.

Your lovable dork.

You smile and move to wrap your arms around his neck, which stops him. He beams down at you, bringing one of his hands to your waist, while the other caresses your cheek.

Like two magnets, your bodies lock together and your lips meet his. The feeling causes sparks to fly behind your eyelids, and for electricity to flow through your veins. Then, an image flashes in your mind. A passage from a book.

'....And the deity of love gifted the followers of the arcane with a soulmate, rewriting the stars so that they would meet the one who would give them eternal happiness on the mortal and astral plain.'

When you both finally pull away, you look at him in awe, especially with everything now looking more vibrant.

"...That's what you are. You're my soulmate, aren't you?" you breath, still reeling from the kiss.

"And you, mine," he utters, still caressing your face. "With my heart broken twice, I had assumed the deity of love had not wished for it to be complete. But now I realize she was punishing me for my impatience, for not waiting on you."

You turn your head to look at the statue beside you. The woman's stone face looks upon you and Magnus benevolently.

"And this...this is her shrine, isn't it?" your eyes fall back onto him.

"It was the only way to be sure," he explains.

And with that, your lips found each other once more, as if even that brief moment of them apart was too long. You had never kissed anyone before, but with the knowledge that you know now, you doubt that it would even feel half as good.

Eventually, you two were no longer standing. You were now laying on the soft grass with him hovering over you, his lips now on your neck and his beard was scratching your sensitive skin in the best way possible. Neither of you even realize it, slowly becoming intoxicated on the other. Even as you begin to mewl and writhe underneath Mag from him sucking your soft flesh, you both only become aware of your predicament when he pulls away to look at you.

"Ah, forgive me," Magnus pants but still doesn't move off of you. "I have no idea what's gotten into me."

"Are you gonna stop?" you breath out, unable to hide your disappointment.

"Do you wish for me to continue?" truth be told, he really wants to, feeling a powerful lust flow through him that he had never felt before. Of course, your comfort came first, always.

Fortunately for him, you are being consumed by the same raging desire, and you nod desperately. With that, he takes the straps of the dress you were wearing and slowly pulls them downward, exposing more of your skin for him to worship.

You should've been embarrassed, nervous even considering the fact that this was going to be your first time having sex, but your mind is way too fuzzy to care. Especially as his mouth is back on you, now focusing on your chest and having his teeth graze your flesh.

Slowly, he moves downward as does your dress, until your breasts are exposed to him. He wastes no time moving to one of them, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud there, before locking it in-between his lips. Meanwhile, your other breast is being massaged by one of his rough hands. The feeling causes you to cry out and arch your back upwards. You don't know if it's even possible for your panties to get anymore wet, especially as he switches so that your breasts get equal treatment.

You continue to moan and your fingers thread themselves in-between Mag's violet locks, nails scratching his scalp and causing him to groan. He pulls himself away from you, which pulls a whine from your lips, but you stop when he pulls your dress from your body and tosses it to the side.

It was only now, with you being in only your panties, that you realize the intensity of the situation.

"M-Mag?" you manage to whimper out.

"Yes, my love?" he gazes up at you with his pupils blown wide. The sight is almost enough for you to forget your words.

"I-I'm...this is...,"it takes all your might for your cloudy brain to form what you wanted to say. "T-This is...my...first t-time."

Despite his mind being just as muddy, your words still pierce him.

"Is...is it, really?" he breathes out, to which you nod. "I see...."

He lowers his head to your stomach and places a kiss there.

"Let me take care of you...I will take care of you," he murmurs in-between kisses, getting lower and lower until his fingers find the waistband of your panties.

He looks up at you, his eyes asking you for permission. You let out a soft "please", desperate for him to continue. So he does, not wanting to deny you, and pulls the damp fabric from your body. The sight of your soaked pussy makes him groan and realize just how uncomfortable his robes were.

Magnus mutters a spell to himself, causing his clothing to disappear entirely, and sighs with a bit of relief. You, on the other hand, are now delirious with lust as you gaze upon him. You had never seen this much of him before, not that you were complaining, especially as your eyes fall on his cock. He was long, with the tip bright red and precum dripping down his shaft. You honestly thought that he was going to just fuck you right then and there, which you certainly had no problems with.

He surprises you though, lowering his head to place a kiss to your mound first, then to your wet folds. You shamelessly moan at the feeling of your pussy finally getting some attention. He then begins to drag his tongue through your lower lips, starting at your entrance and ending at your clit, moaning a bit as he laps up your arousal.

Your hands find themselves back in his hair, sobbing loudly with pleasure. This just eggs Mag on as he latches his lips onto your clit, sucking on it harshly to see how you'd react. Just as he thought, your fingers tighten their grasp and your wails increase in volume and pitch.

He then slips one of his fingers inside of you, finding little resistance due to your slick. The feeling of what could be compared to a coil tightening forms within your stomach, your release imminent. All it takes is him pushing in a second finger to drive you over the edge. You cum hard on his hand and mouth, tears of pleasure flowing down your face. If you cumming from his mouth was that intense, you can't even imagine what cumming on his dick's going to be like.

Even as you fall from your high, Mag continues to scissor his fingers inside of you, stretching you out so you can be ready for his length. It is taking him his little self control he has to not fuck you quite yet, but quickly snaps once his brain hyper focuses on how your pussy swallows up his digits, not to mention the feeling.

So he pulls his hand away from your body, and wastes no time lining his cock up with your tight little hole. He looks back up at your blissed out face, though he gives you less time to give him permission. Not that you care, you're craving his dick despite getting your release mere seconds ago.

As soon as he pushes the tip of his length inside of you, he quickly loses himself. That sweet, lovable dork that never liked losing his composure was nowhere to be found. In his place was a man that was rutting into you like his life depended on it.

The pain that you should've been feeling from him repeatedly shoving all of cock in and out of you was severely dulled. It felt like you were being claimed by him, and as such, all you could really focus on was pleasure. Likewise he was feeling like he was being claimed by you, which was why he was fucking you like an animal in heat, on top of the fact that he had denied himself of such pleasure for so long.

That feeling was the two of you officially sealing your bond as soulmates, and nothing from here on out would shatter it. Of course, the two of you would realize that after the heavy cloud of lust left your brains.

At a particularly harsh thrust, you dig your nails into Mag's back and throw one of your legs over his waist, which he wraps an arm around to hold it in place. The new angle causes the tip of his dick to hit areas inside of you that you weren't even sure were real up until that point.

All it takes is three strokes of his cock inside of you for you to cum hard, screaming so loud that you wouldn't be surprised if someone all the way in the village heard you. At the feeling of your velvety walls constricting his length, he let out his own moan as he floods your pussy with his seed.

You both are sweaty and exhausted, with Magnus using all of his strength to keep himself from crushing your limp body. He continues to shallowly thrust into you, not wanting to come down from his high. To be fair, you didn't want to either, as your vision was still white and your legs still felt like jelly.

When the two of you finally do come back down to Earth, you both don't know what to say, still not believing that this was real. All you can pant out is an exhausted "wow", followed by a tired laugh. Mag smirks at your reaction, but quickly loses it.

"What's wrong?" you ask, concerned, worried he was starting to have regrets.

"That...that really was a miserable way to lose your virginity, wasn't it?" he lets go of your leg and moves his hand to your face, brushing some strands that were sticking to your sweaty face.

"I...I don't think so," you move your own hand up to his face to cup his cheek. "I really enjoyed myself. Did...didn't you?"

"O...Of course I did. It's just...," he frowns. "I just feel that your first time should've been passionate and spent on a comfortable bed, and not with me rutting into you like an animal in heat."

"I don't mind," you shrug. "I enjoyed that a lot. Besides, I thought you were really hot."

"Really? Even though I looked completely undignified?"

You giggle and nod.

"Absolutely," you then pull him down into a kiss, which he returns. When you both pull away you glance upwards at the statue. "I think it was what she wanted anyways."

Magnus turns to look up at the statue as well.

"Perhaps you are right," he nods, before smiling down at you. "Still, if I can't worship you on a soft bed during, would you allow me to do so, afterwards?"

"I'd like that, but um, Mag?" you ask.

"Yes my love?"

"Do you think you could warp us to that bed? I don't think I'll be walking for a while," you quip.

"Ah-yes, of course! Um...I am terribly sorry," his apologizes sheepishly.

"As I said, it's fine. I was just warning you," you tease.

He nods, before carefully pulling out and moving off of you. He collects your panties and dress, before pulling you into his lap.

In a flash of light, the two of you were in his bedroom. Magnus sets your clothes at the foot of the bed, before gently laying you down on top of the soft covers. He then lies down next to you, and pulls you close to him. You nuzzle into his chest eagerly, getting comfortable.

"Yeah, this is nice, too," you smile.

He nods at you, and begins to rub your back. Suddenly, he tenses up.

"Uh oh, what now?" you giggle, looking up at him.

"I haven't even told you that I love you, yet. I truly am a horrible soulmate aren't I," he shakes his head.

"I thought that was your big declaration you gave me at the shrine?" you smirk.

"Yes, but it wasn't those three words was it?"

"Mm, no, but it had the same effect," you hum.

"Did it really? I would've rather...," he trails off about what he wished he would've done for the whole thing. Of course, you get tired of his rambling and place a kiss to his lips to shut him up.

"You really are a big dork, you know that Mag?" you quip. "But if it helps you rest up, tell me now."

"As you wish," he nods, before clearing his throat. "I love you, Y/N. And I promise that I will cherish you in this life and the next."

"I love you too, Magnus," you start before getting comfortable once more. "And for as long as I exist, I will stay by your side and love you as fiercely as you'll let me."

[egg-emperor]

Eggman is pretty much fascism and unchecked capitalism in human form. He is a repersantion of it they way Sonic is the representation of freedom.

In the games we get to see glimpses of the world under Eggy's rule and it is not pretty. Even in the first game, Eggman's scrap brain zone is a polluted dystopian hellhole, smog and poison everywhere. Meanwhile green hill zone is a lush paradise full of greenery.

In Sonic CD, we can see even his own robots suffer in the bad futures. They looks broken , neglected and musty. He doesn't even care about his bots. So much for a robot kingdom 🤖👑

Don't get me started on Forces where he fully takes over the earth and turns it into a bleak, broken hellhole and spews propaganda everywhere. Everyone is miserable. He even made a propaganda vid where he encourages people to accept his robotomy treatment and become his robot slaves to make life bearable.(Robots don't need food , water or clean air to breathe. They don't even think)

Benevolent dictatorship it is not. I don't know where people get that from.

Exactly, for it being such a prominent theme in the series, I wish more people would get the message and not dismiss it/miss the point and try to say "Eggman is good, actually". It's much more interesting to look at it for what it is, it's what makes Sonic vs Eggman and Eggman's goals compelling to me to analyze. Eggman is a great representation of the terrible and harmful things humanity can be capable of but without completely blaming the entire human race.

He portrays the dangers of fascism, damage of the environment, and the dangerous destructive lengths one can go to in greed for power and control. There's been many examples of him attempting to captilize on harmful things, carelessly tearing the planet/other planets apart in selfish endeavors, and how dystopian the world would be if he succeeded in enforcing his order. They've explored propaganda, manipulation, war, and invasion with him.

Ignoring the message of Eggman's character also downplays, softens the impact of, and dismisses the meaning of Sonic's character. He's all about freedom and the only thing he hates is oppression, Eggman is the oppressor of the story and Sonic wants to stop him, that way people can live in peace and freedom without Eggman stripping that away from them and forcing them to be and do exactly and only what he wants in the world he wants it to be alone.

It's cool because Eggman is also like an example of if you take your own personal freedom and desires too far with greed and a lust for power and control. To the point that you value it and yourself so much above all else, you want to force everyone else to comply by your rules and fulfill your desires, no matter how much they don't want it and it damages them and the world around you. Meanwhile, Sonic's just happens to benefit the world and people around him.

And in a world where Sonic wins, it stays beautiful, bright, lively and free with nature, wildlife, man, and technology coexisting in harmony and peace. In a world where Eggman wins you get the opposite where it's ugly, dark, dead, and controlled with nature and wildlife suffocated until it's dead- replaced by technology and reshaped in Eggman's selfish image and twisted idea of what a "perfect" world is, one where only he decides what it's like.

It shows through their characteristics, actions and outlook, and their impact on the world and people around them and that's so fucking neat. I don't know why people act like that stopped being a theme when, as long as it's Sonic vs Eggman, it's definitely always present. But I feel that a part of it is absolutely the way that people try to make it seem like Eggman isn't so bad and suggest the idea that maybe he's actually really progressive and wants to do good.

It's very clear that he doesn't lol. Such is obvious by the lengths he's willing to go to get what he wants, knowingly and carelessly hurting many people and even finding sadistic enjoyment in it at other times, all the while acknowledging that he's evil and saying it himself and owning it. He knows he has to create propaganda, lie, and manipulate others into getting what he wants and further his plans which also proves full awareness that what he's doing isn't innocent.

And of course the most obvious is how the world under his control is most often depicted as a dark industrial dead and polluted dystopian hellhole where all suffer, even his own creations, and he doesn't care because he's in control and gets to rule over it and turn it into everything he wants. And their suffering is just part of the idea, which he makes clear with his own words with Eggmanland in Unleashed and the Interstellar Park in Colors, in that he wants people to suffer.

There are times this isn't shown visually in a places of his creation and under his control, such as the Interstellar Park and Ego City. But guess what? There's still tons of danger and death due to attractions in the Interstellar park that he acknowledged and intended as features, and the PAs in Ego City with the propaganda and lies about the intention and "benefits" of animals in robots and the hint that he doesn't actually take criticism- all prove his real sinister intent in it.

It shows that Eggman can also pretty things up and sugarcoat them with visually beautiful creations, sweet words and promises of great things through lies and propaganda. That's scary because it can lure people in, only for them to be subjected to great horrors once they arrive, even if nobody and maybe not even themselves can see and realize it's all a lie and the cost that is their suffering at first, until it's too late and they face it in the most terrible and painful of ways.

And the truth would show visually eventually anyway, evident in Eggmanland's darker polluted setting. Even to the point of further destruction and decay, like CD bad future where even his own creations are broken down and abandoned. He'll destroy the world to build his new one yet even that will rot due to his carelessness as long as it doesn't get in the way of his own enjoyment, he'll use things up and abandon them when they no longer serve him.

In Forces he wants to burn the world so it will be "nothing but ashes, from which a glorious Eggman Empire will rise," willing to cause great damage to get it. That's why he happily blew up Sunset Heights, let Green Hill be dehydrated and die, had forests carpet bombed, and was willing to drop the sun on people. Hell, in the Join the Eggman Empire propaganda video, he promotes further ruination and pollution of the world after he's taken over as a good appealing thing.

And the real reason why is because it will push anyone that's still unwilling after all his attempted lies and propaganda to give in and accept the robotomy treatment, so they don't have to suffer in it anymore because they won't have a choice because it'll be that or die. But with it they'll also have to give up all their freedom and never be able to eat, sleep, or think ever again and Eggman will tell them "that's what we call "living the good life!"

And again, him saying that loving it is mandatory in the video proves he doesn't care how much it hurts people and how much they'll really hate it. He knows full well but doesn't care because it's not about what they want, it's all about him and what he wants and they have no choice or say, they literally have to comply or die. And fuuuck it's so good and messed up. That perfectly represents how terrible and dangerous and harmful his dictatorship is.

Besides the whole "what if he actually cared and genuinely wanted to help people and the world though" which this all clearly disproves, I also see people say they'd like to become robots so they don't think it's so bad. And it's like well fascist dictatorship doesn't suddenly become a good thing just because some of it personally aligns with your desires lol. Authoritarianism doesn't suddenly become good just because it's enforcing your personal morals and values.

I highly doubt anyone would still be saying this if they it really happened and they realized how much they'd sacrifice in it and what they'd have to go through as Eggman clearly doesn't treat his creations well, whether it's through abusing them or just leaving them to decay like those seen in CD bad future. And let's say even if was good for you personally in some way, it wouldn't be for everyone and most people would still suffer because they don't want it.

And let's say your biggest dream came true through it. It's still being enforced through Eggman's fascism and oppression and many will suffer from it and have to abide by it against their will. It's like how Eggman tried to bribe Sonic in the great Super Sonic and Super Eggman Sonic Channel story by saying he could give him a world of chili dogs, no paradise is one that is forced, no matter how pretty and appealing one tries to make it seem.

And in Eggman's case it's not just that but the fact his "paradise" is everyone else's hell, his enjoyment is everyone else's pain, his desires are the antithesis of freedom. Because he's deeply selfish and intends and revels in much of the damage and suffering he causes. It's inherently sinister, harmful, and only his twisted definition of a perfect paradise that serves only himself with his selfishness and self-centeredness that he can't and doesn't care to see past.

He's one fucked up bastard and that makes him so interesting and threatening, he's the main villain of the series for a reason. 💜 It's really interesting to think about the themes he represents and the many different ways they've been portrayed and explored throughout the series and the message it sends just as much as Sonic's, I wish to see more acknowledgement and discussion of it so I try my best to bring light to it with my own contributions like this!

[shock-micro]

Hi, I'm Mira, a silly robot on the internet! I'm... frankly, a lot of things, so I'll bring them up as necessary. To start, I'm transfem and robokin! This much should be clear. It's who I am!

I used to mainly do Minecraft stuff, trying to make the game live up to its visual potential while staying within the confines of the vanilla game's engine. Now, I don't do that as much, but it's still a fun game to mess with. Take a nice sunset from those days!

My interests are mostly gaming-related, but I've tried to dabble in art occasionally. I like all sorts of games, like Zelda, Pokémon, Minecraft, Celeste, Hollow Knight, Rain World, Cassette Beasts, Risk of Rain, Ultrakill, Bug Fables, In Stars And Time... the list goes on. I like more than that, too, and I'll keep adding more as I play more games!

I get very excited over things sometimes, so please bare with me if I ramble a lot about stuff! This includes: vagueposting about games I've become obsessed with, ranting about music or game design in something, and more!

Feel free to send me asks whether we're mutuals or not!

I do have a sona, designed by a good friend of mine, @quantumpickle! I don't quite have a reference sheet, but I don't really care if you get it inaccurate- I love seeing how different people interpret the design. Whatever you do, though, don't forget the body fat- it's a reflection of who I am, at the end of the day. If you want a good picture of what I look like, look at Pickle's amazing work:

My posts are mostly reblogs, but I always end each session of scrolling with a post of my own, to know where to end next time I log on. I try as best I can to keep this account safe for work in both reblogs and original posts, though I am an adult. I will say something if this ever changes.

I am plural, sharing a body with a rabbit girl named Moon, a zoroark named Zoey, a wasp named Aspen, and a roach named Yui. They'll chime in every once in a while, with Moon being represented by her blue text and formal language, Zoey being represented by her red text and general attitude, Aspen being represented by her orange text and her demeanor, and Yui being represented by their purple text and their cadence. You can call us "Team Berry" as a collective!

Hello, all! It's Moon. It's always a pleasure to be here! I do love an opportunity to talk to all you folks, even if I'm not usually there to respond.

heya, it's zoey. not sure how often i'll use this thing, but it's good to keep options open, y'know? ✌️.

hey guys, i'm aspen! not sure how i got here, but it's quite a treat to finally learn how you giants live! i'm always open for conversation if you send me an ask.

Greetings. I am Yui, from the same place of origin as Aspen, though a different region. Fate works in mysterious ways.

I do have a partner, and I will always talk about them given the opportunity, but I carry a certain form of love for all of my close friends. The people I know mean a lot to me.

I love the simple things in life, from food, to nature, to the contrast of light and dark in both a literal and literary sense. I often find myself overwhelmed by everything that goes on in the world, but I find comfort in knowing the bad stuff is only a few bad people out of a beautifully diverse species.

If you couldn't tell, I generally prefer looking on the bright side and finding something to love about things rather than staying miserable all of the time. I don't get out much, and so I'd much rather give people that light to hold onto than spread the same old bleak story that you've heard from countless other people, regardless of how important it is to share. Change is built on hope, after all.

Change is something I believe in, more than any normal god. It's all around us, from the seasons, to the stars, to the rain, to the fleeting emotions of ours. I believe in our ability to change things, that we can all make a positive impact on our own lives, the lives of others, and the world. I believe in our ability to change ourselves, and that people shouldn't be afraid to become who they want to be. I believe some level of change is necessary for a happy life, and I strive to leave every day as a better version of myself.

Normally people put a DNI in their bio or their pinned post, but I don't really care to do that. If you're a bitch, I'll block and move on. I don't care how you use a label, or where the other folks in your head came from, or whatever other queer-adjacent drama is the hot topic, I accept you regardless. I'm ace, I still love my partner, I can love anyone, I use it/its pronouns, I'm robokin, I've got four other folks in my head and I don't know how they got here, do you really think I'd hate you for being you?

That's actually an important point- even if I do think something someone's done is unforgivable, I believe that bad people are still people. In some ways, that makes things better, they have lives outside of what they commit, but it also makes things worse when you realize someone woke up and actively chose to perpetuate genocide. Some people are genuinely that bad, others are just misguided and can be helped. Ultimately, it's not my job to "save" anyone. I just try to provide a light of kindness when I can.

Wow, that was long-winded for a post that's just supposed to describe me. I suppose that's in-character for me, though. Agree with me or not, I don't really care, as long as you're respectful. I hope you've found this post helpful in understanding who I am as a person, long-winded as it is. Have a good one, whoever and wherever you are.

(...now how do I pin this?)

[winepresswrath]

I do gotta say tho, even tho I’m mad at aziraphale because he’s being a terrible boyfriend like what you said about the “I forgive you like” because WHAT. But also I really like the way the show really demonstrates the underlying cruelty of heaven and it’s angels. Really shows the hypocrisy of a group of beings who are supposed to do good, especially aziraphale who really buys into the heaven propaganda, who hurts people, particularly the person who means the most to him. Because like you said he fully just takes advantage of that devotion Crowley has for him. Insane, this shwo makes me INSANE

I missed this anon and yeah! The angels were one of my favourite parts of the season, and I think the strongest element aside from Neil Gaiman deciding he's just a simple man who wants to put his otp in situations. They are deeply awful and I kind of love them. They are the exact kind of moralizing hypocrites who are callous and cruel precisely because they think being on team good means everything they do is justified and it's actually impossible for them to be in the wrong (they're angels! is it even possible for them to do the wrong thing?).

but!! To me, they also seem like they're basically kids? Obviously they're not literally children, but there is this very consistent reoccurring joke about how childish/sheltered/immature they are. Muriel is the most obvious example, but the archangels come off like bratty twelve year olds to her sweet little kid.

Gabriel is basically teenager in love flipping off his family as he runs away with his backstreet guy. Uriel is constantly picking at Michael, Michael is playing at being in charge like it's a game, and it's ridiculously easy for both Aziraphale and Crowely to trick them obvious half assed lies. They're not allowed to ask questions! The Metatron treats them like badly behaved kids out past their curfew. At any point an old man with a beard may pop up to scold them and send them home, and they're all scared of doing something wrong by his standards and getting in trouble with this guy who is pointedly not God but who lines up exactly with the pop-culture idea of god the father, and who offers Aziraphale, among other things, a respite from the hard work of figuring out what the right thing to do is for himself. It's fine! You don't have to question the belief system you were born into or make a painful break with everything you've ever known! Aziraphale has had six thousand years on earth to grow up, but the other angels have been sitting in a sterile white box playing "i'm not touching you" games with each other and filing paperwork.

And I think that's extra interesting because this season also really emphasizes:

Heaven has Institutional Problems

Aziraphale isn't the only angel who's unhappy in heaven. Gabriel and Muriel were both completely miserable. They just didn't understand that they were unhappy because they'd never experienced anything else.

Angels who aren't Aziraphale can change and grow! There's very explicitly Gabriel being changed by love and Muriel growing up a bit on earth, and from a more fan-theory angle there's also Jimbriel, who I think is probably basically Gabriel minus the war and six thousand years of playing referee for Michael and Uriel while unleashing an assortment of plague and calamities on earth because that's God's will! Buck up champ.

We also get Gabriel and Beezelebub talking about how their underlings basically live for Armageddon, "if you can call that living." This is so bleak. They've all been on a six thousand year time out just dreaming of the day they get to beat the shit out of each other until they feel better, but it won't work because eternity is just more of the box.

Anyway I think it's going in a distinctly eden adjacent direction. Aziraphale is going to tempt those angels with knowledge and the capacity for change. I have veered so far from your ask anon i'm sorry you're right heaven really went all out on sucking this season & while Crowley and Aziraphale are both fucking it up Crowley refrains from being spectacularly cruel to Aziraphale about it and Aziraphale should learn to return the favour. I forgive you!! I forGIVE you. I forgive YOU. "you can be an angel again" is actually a worse thing to say than "you're a demon. i don't even like you." when he finally picks crowley over heaven i'm going to lose my mind.

[the1northlanderprincess]

Yep, still mad

It's been 3 weeks since I finished Kingdom of Ash (honestly feels a lot longer). I started the Shatter Me series two weeks ago, and actually almost done with it. Suddenly, in the last couple of days, I have become mad all over again with what went down in TOG's writing. I was super angry with Queen of Shadows, but now it's reached a whole new level of fury. Though on the younger side of YA, Shatter Me has managed to do what TOG so miserably failed to follow through. A romance developed within the second book of a longer series, where there is, at first, some antagonism, there are confessions and a honeymoon period. Then there is conflict where it's looking bleak for said lovers. However, they will overcome their differences and reconnect (haven't gotten to the got-back-together phase yet, but I know it's coming; couldn't help myself with spoilers :D). There's only one other love interest, not a hundred others. And there are certainly no noticeably dumb retcons.

Vampire Academy was successful with the Shatter Me formula, so was Hunger Games, Percy Jackson, and Harry Potter. WHY did SJM have to make things so difficult and mess with a good thing?! Maybe ACOTAR helped her learn her lesson.

ARRRGHHHH, I'm so infuriated right now!

[lorddeathofmurdermountain]

When I was in middle school, my parents would often ridicule people who drive their kids to school. Something about the fact that our town is small and they can walk - my mom, for one, would walk for an hour to get to school from a neighboring village in the hills. You know, the whole "walking uphills both ways in the snow" thing but less joke-ified. Why do I mention this?

Because I lived five minutes from school and if I took a three minute longer route to walk with my friends a bit longer to talk my mom would freak the fuck out and I'd get an earful when I got home - God FORBID I actually walked my friends all the way to their house.

(You can ignore the rest, it's just me putting thoughts to paper so to speak, as a form of stress relief.)

This and lots of other shit was a mainstay in my parents' behaviour, so when I, in their eyes, got to the age where they can trust me with being out and about, it came as a shock to them that all I really cared about was staying indoors, playing my games and reading my books. Then when they assisted me in being antisocial (not like it was only their fault, it was also the bullying and the fact I always took myself a bit too seriously which chafed with the excitable and hyperactive kids around me) they went about convincing me I'm a lazy piece of shit. I remember the days I was overjoyed to just do shit. I didn't mind doing chores, in fact I even liked doing some of the more interesting ones. I would grumble if I had to do chores when I was reading or something but I always did it. I'd never go like "No, I won't do it" or anything. I would, however, not use up a whole lot of my brain power THINKING about chores (because, god, why would I?) so I'd usually forget to do some of them and stuff, which got me labeled as a lazy freak. And, well, sure enough, at this point if I can manage to wash the dishes or sweep the floor or, fuck, even get out of bed, I'm pretty proud of myself (for a given value of "proud"). My parents basically made their already overly serious kid a moody shut-in and yelled him down when he said he was scared he might have depression. Well, lo and behold, that depression is making me fail college, but I have to pretend it isn't there since nothing good will come of it.

My parents really wanted a lot of things for me and in being as demanding as they were they turned me into this fucking slob, this fucking creature, who can't even be bothered to get up and eat something at times. Someone who indulges in his vices to forget his bleak reality and only prides himself on the fact that those vices aren't any of the usual stuff like smoking, alcohol or drugs. I used to love food and now it's mostly just a means to not get that annoying feeling in my stomach. Hell even snacks are mostly just something to keep my hands and mouth occupied. I've even stopped being scared of my future, because I've concluded it's going to be shit either way. If I'm gonna have a job, it's gonna be miserable. If I DON'T get a job I'll be a different kind of miserable - that is to say, homeless, but what the fuck do I care? I'm gonna feel shit about myself either way. At this point I could perform some great feat and the only thing I'd think to myself is that the attention is annoying. I wouldn't be happy because for even the best achievements in my life the only response I got was either cold indifference or something that amounts to "Couldn't you have done it the first time/sooner/better?" A noncommital "That's nice" is the most I could hope for. When I cried I got told in all ways you can think of to stop - and, look, I haven't cried for years now, not even during funerals. When I complained I was ignored and when something happened the consequences were only worse if I said someone else was responsible, even if they were. I can think of ONE time in my whole life where my parents were on my side and I felt loved. It made all the rest of it only more bitter.

Online stuff is like going out for me. Helps me forget and set aside my issues. It's almost easier to not be ME when I'm on the internet.

So yeah. Beyond all the things the other people said, Gen Z is notoriously mentally unwell - one in three people aged 18-24 report having a common mental health issue such as anxiety or depression and it's my personal opinion that the number would be fucking higher if parents didn't make a taboo of it, like having these problems is forbidden. My generation is depressed and anxious as fuck and our parents regularly disregard, even dismiss these things as fake, or not real issues. Not to even mention other shit like ADHD and autism that're even worse not only in effect but how people are treated by others for it.

Sometimes I think everything in my life has gone as bad as it could have considering the circumstances I was born into and I should be sad for it. Sometimes I think I should be happy for even having this much. I don't feel either. I just feel disappointed - in myself, and in knowing I'll never change. That I'm too stuck to even want to get myself unstuck, and that I'm too much of a coward to end it all or to even visit a psychiatrist. I felt like my heart was gonna pop just asking my general doctor for a recommendation to visit a psychiatrist and that was after tricking myself into doing it. At this point I'm just waiting for it all to crumble around me so I can get this done with. About a month or two now. Just another month or two. Then we'll see.

Maybe this is the wrong platform to pose this question given the average tumblr user but

Is it just me or did our generation (those of is who are currently 20-30 ish) just not get the opportunity to be young in the 'standard' sense?

Like, everyone I talk to who's over 40 has all their wild stories about their teens and 20s, being young and dumb, and then I talk to my friends and coworkers and classmates, and we just... dont.

[simplyotometrash]

Demon Purrs: Belphie

The third installation of Demon Purrs!

Belphie x gn! Reader

Fluff, fluff, and more fluff!!!

Your relationship with the youngest brother was one that everyone found interesting, considering the shit that happened between you. He had killed you before, he had used you to get free, he lied. But that was a different Belphie. Not yours. Your Belphie willingly entered a pact with you to give you full control. He never wanted to scare you or hurt you. He dreaded anytime you were upset, fearing it was all his fault.

Belphie was truly soft for you.

Of course, this was Belphie so he was equally a little shit. The demon loved to tease you just as much as he loved to make Lucifer's life miserable. But you knew he never meant anything by his teasing. It was all in love and good fun. He often crawled into your bed if you weren't sharing his already, refusing to sleep alone for you kept his nightmares at bay. You were a shining light in his otherwise bleak world. He adored you. Next to you, the only one he cared this much for was his twin brother.

After a long day of being at RAD all he wanted to do was snuggle with you. Which was what you two were doing. You were sitting up against the headboard and a mountain of pillows while Belphie lay between your legs, his face pressed against your stomach. He was sleeping soundly, he'd passed out the moment he got comfortable.

Not that you minded. He slept more than anyone you had ever met, being the Avatar of Sloth. His sin made him tired, just as Beel's made him perpetually hungry. You liked just sitting with him while he slept, his arms wound around your midsection. There was no getting out of his grip once he was asleep.

You casually scrolled through your D.D.D., humming softly while you looked for new games to download. You combed your fingers through Belphie's soft hair without even thinking, it just came naturally.

"Mmm...what are you..." He yawned, his voice muffled against your stomach. He turned his face so one eye was peeking up at you.

"Did I wake you up? I'm sorry, Belph."

"S'okay. Don't stop."

You giggled, continuing to run your fingers through his hair. He was so clingy and needy, more so than his brothers believed him to be. He would grumble and whine if you stopped.

He nuzzled his face back against your tummy, a noise you had never heard before coming from his throat.

It sounded like a groan almost but his mouth remained closed. As if he were grumbling. It was a low, rumbling sound. But he seemed so happy so you knew he wasn't bothered or in pain.

"Are you...purring?"

"Hmph, are you stupid?"

"Don't be a brat." You gave an indignant snort and ceased your motions, drawing your hand from his hair.

Before you could think he drew one of his arms back and grabbed your wrist. "Keep going...please."

"Answer my question and maaaaaybe I will." Now you were teasing but he was leaving himself wide open.

You did not expect him to blush, hiding his red hot face against your belly again. "...yes..."

You knew better than to make a fuss over his adorable purring. He would only become an even bigger brat about it. Although, his bratty side was actually quite cute. You just didn't want to ruin the moment.

So, you began to run your fingers through his hair again. No sooner did you start back up did he begin to purr once more.

"How cute."

"Shut the fuck up."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Demon Purrs (Lucifer)

Demon Purrs (Mammon)

Demon Purrs (Leviathan)

Demon Purrs (Satan)

Demon Purrs (Asmodeus)

Demon Purrs (Beelzebub)

[egcdeath]

strangers again

summary: “hiiii sweetie!! can i request a steve x reader where he left yn for peggy. but he always felt guilty and missed yn. he would always stare at her pic. when he came back he bumped into yn while she was dropping a kid to daycare. and steve realized it was his son. kinda sad but fluff at the end pls!!!! and oh i super love your works!!! tysm 🌼🥺💕”

pairing: steve rogers x reader

warnings: decent angst, brief mention of a depressive episode, abandonment, somewhat unrealistic behavior

word count: 3.8k

author’s note:  i really hope that this lives up to your expectations but it is a little cheesy. i’d also like to warn that i have not interacted with a child in several years, so.. sorry. (there’s also a lot of exposition so double sorry if that’s not your thing!)

You’d never forget the moment Steve left to return the stones, with the promise to be back in only a matter of moments.

Maybe your definition of a matter of moments was different from his.

You seemed to be the only one without a clue of what Steve truly planned to do, with Bucky only telling you after the matter that Steve was leaving for the past and for Peggy, and probably not coming back.

After finding out, something deep within you broke. You could barely leave your bed for days, you struggled to eat, sleep, even drink water. Every task that used to seem like muscle memory, began to feel like it carried the weight of the world behind it. Every hobby that you once enjoyed becoming empty and bleak.

You constantly felt inadequate. How could you love someone so much, and be told you were loved so much while always being second to someone else?

The simple sentiment of it had left you feeling miserable, and sick to your stomach. Literally. Nearly every morning, and occasionally if you smelled something too strong, you found the contents of your stomach emptied.

You attempted to ignore it at first. Meshed with every other unpleasant symptom you were going through, you’d figured that it was just one more bullet point on the list of things that had been plaguing you. But when your friends insisted that you go check up with your doctor, you had a hard time saying no.

Once you received the results from your blood test, you were completely taken aback by the fact that you were pregnant. You couldn't believe that you hadn’t considered the possibility of pregnancy earlier.

Yet,  after a long and hard period of pondering, you managed to surprise yourself once again after you realized you wanted to keep it.

After all, that could be the only piece of Steve you had left.

----

You began to tell yourself that Steve was dead. That was somehow less painful than the idea that he left you for someone that he barely knew, yet had fallen so hard for nearly 70 years ago. You refused to let yourself fall for anyone else romantically, now that you were aware that anyone had the capacity to leave you at any time, no matter how deep you perceived your relationship to be.

You guarded your heart, and made sure to only let in those that you knew you could trust for a fact. For the remainder of your pregnancy, only your closest family members and friends stood by your side.

About 8 months later, you brought a small, but healthy infant into the world. From that moment on, you promised yourself to become the best version of yourself that you could be. No dwelling on the past, and no yearning for what could’ve been. Your only duty now was to provide the best life possible for your offspring.

So you did.

----

You stood in the kitchen, peeling an orange for your son before he bounded into the room. You turned and gave him a big grin, and he grinned back to you.

“Did you get dressed all by yourself?” You asked him excitedly, receiving a nod in return before he ran up to your leg, and hugged it.

“I did, Mommy!” He looked up at you with his soulful eyes, and you couldn’t help but to feel bombarded with emotion.

Even at the tender age of five, Grant seemed to become a bit more like his father every day. The shape of his eyes, the slope of his nose, the sound of his giggle. To the average onlooker, he came across as the same as any other child, but to you, your son was the splitting image of Steve.

“Good work, little man. Now go sit at the table so mommy can finish breakfast, okay?” He didn’t even bother confirming with you before more or less sprinting to the table. You couldn’t help but to ask yourself if your son had obtained all of that energy and speed from his father as well.

Breakfast was over almost as soon as it started, and before you knew it, you were warming up your car after you’d assisted Grant with brushing his teeth.

You were in an oddly nostalgic mood that day, playing music from a time period before you’d even imagined bringing another life into the world. You glanced up at the rearview mirror and watched your son happily bop his head to the beat. You thought in passing about how much of a gift he truly was.

After arriving at his school, you hopped out of the car and over to the furthest seat in the back, where he’d insisted on sitting that day.

“You ready, big guy?” You questioned while reaching out to grab him from the car seat.

“Born ready,” he agreed. You chuckled and shook your head fondly at that while getting him out of the car.

“Who taught you that?”

Grant shrugged, “I came up with it myself.”

“I’m sure. Can you hold my hand while we’re out please?” You reached out for him, and he gladly obliged.

You soon became distracted by a large man across the street, his built figure and light blonde hair making you recall the father of your child. You gave Grant’s hand a light squeeze and continued to approach the door, not being able to help yourself, and glancing over at the man one last time.

Except this time was different. Your eyes locked with the blonde man outside of the coffee shop across the street unexpectedly. Where you once thought casually to yourself that it looked like Steve, you now had confirmation that it was in fact the man who you’d fallen in love with, and found yourself pregnant by.

You audibly gasped, receiving a bit of a questioning look from your child. Your heart dropped as a metric ton of emotions hit you all at once, anger, sadness, confusion. Everything you told yourself you needed to repress, had suddenly come back to you all at once.

Even from a distance, you swore you could see his eyes flit from you to Grant, and the next thing you knew, he was approaching your direction. Looking for an easy out, and a distraction from your rather observant child, you quickly caused a misdirection.

“Grant, is that Stacey over on the playground? You should totally go show her that new version of tag that you were telling me about!”

Your son, ever the speedster, booked it towards the playground, and you let out a sigh of relief. Although, the relief didn’t last long, as just moments later, Steve was almost all the way up to you. As you turned to try to escape, you felt a hand on your arm.

“Y/N?” He asked, almost timidly.

You weren’t even sure what to say. In fact, you didn’t feel like you had control of your own body at this point. “Steve? I-“ You ran a hand through your hair and bit the inside of your lip. “You need to go.” The pain that was rushing through you was too much for you to bare, especially considering the man who caused the hurt had suddenly decided to reappear in your life after giving you a world of self doubt and abandonment issues.

Steve seemed hurt by your statement, but you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand to even look at his face. “Please, Y/N, let me explain,” he begged.

“No, Steve. You don’t get that luxury. You left me for someone else, and I guess you got to live a nice, long life with her. You don’t get to just show back up in my life when you get bored, okay? I can’t afford to play those types of games anymore. Now if you’d let me go-“ You attempted to get to your car, but Steve side stepped you.

“It wasn’t like that. You know it isn’t like that.”

“Just fucking leave! You have no idea what this has all been like for me. You had your opportunity to leave, and you gladly took it. Stay the fuck out of my life, and the hell away from my son.” You grabbed the handle of your car door and got in, reeling as you watched a dejected Steve walk away.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you rested your head against the steering wheel. You were feeling way too many emotions to pinpoint exactly how you felt, but you knew that this couldn’t be good.

——

You put a brave face on for your son that day, picking him up from school in a daze, and only half listening to whatever it was that he was telling you.

You felt bad for only being able to nod along to whatever he was saying, and did he just ask you if he could get a dog? Did you just say yes?

You felt like a stranger watching yourself from the outside in. The ghost of the person you’d developed into over the years watching the past version of yourself slip right back into your body, and take over your daily routine through the next few days of your life.

You had an obscene amount of anger that soon dissolved into a deep sadness, and that sadness shorty developed into a morbid curiosity.

You spent an unreasonable, and certainly unhealthy amount of time searching your old lover’s name on tabloid websites and social media, just to see if he’d given a statement on his whereabouts, or a statement about anything at all.

After about day three of your minor internet stalking, you’d had an epiphany while sitting in your office.

You still have Steve’s number saved on your phone.

That was, of course, if it hadn’t changed between now and the years that he’d been off living in the past.

Something about knowing that you were just one text away from him made your heart race with a mixture of nerves and interest. Just one impulsive decision, and you could change the whole trajectory of the rest of your life.

If you got back in contact with Steve, you might not ever be willing to leave him. You refused to make that mistake again.

Until you did.

After reading Grant his nightly bedtime story, then wrapping him tightly in his little bed, you’d decided to treat yourself to a glass of Chardonnay.

It’d been a weird past couple of days. Your time traveling ex had randomly appeared back into your life, your coworkers seemed to get on your nerves a little more every moment you were around them, and Grant had a temper tantrum in the grocery store that afternoon over a chocolate bar, which gained judging stares from customers, and may have made you feel the slightest bit inadequate.

At least that’s what you told yourself as you filled your glass again, because two glasses can’t hurt, and again, since I kinda deserve this extra one, don’t I? The next thing you knew, the bottle was empty, and you were texting Steve for the first time in years.

Y: Is this Steve?

You watched as three white dots hovered on your screen for a moment, disappeared, then came back once again.

S: Is this Y/N?

Y: Yes.

Y: We should tlak

Y: *talk

S: I agree.

Y: So lets

Y: talk

S: I don’t think this is a conversation for texts.

Y: Then call me???????????????????

S: We should talk in person.

Y: Im not gonna do that sober

S: You’re not sober?

Y: do you think id text u sober u big fuckni asshole

S: I guess you’re right

S: So are we gonna talk?

Y: no ur gonna meet me at b cup cafe tomorrow at 10

S: AM or PM?

Y: AM I’m off

S: Are you sure you want to do this?

Y: Say yes before i change my mind

S: I’ll see you there

Y: Bye babydaddy

S: ????

You promptly deleted the messages, tossed your phone somewhere on the sofa, and sunk into the seat. Even in your not-completely-sober state, you already felt the all too familiar sense regret. You dragged the blanket that hung over the top of the sofa over your exhausted body, and closed your eyes, wishing that this was somehow all a dream.

----

It was not all just a dream.

You woke up with dried drool on your chin, and a deep pit of bad feelings and regret in your chest. Of course, you ignored the bad feelings and got ready, business as usual. You successfully dropped Grant off at school with little complications, and found yourself perking up a bit more.

Yet, something still felt slightly off. You reached into the passenger seat for your phone, and as you looked down on it, saw the familiar notification of a calendar event.  

10:00 AM b cup coff w Steeb

You groaned out loud at this. There was no obligation for you to go meet with him, but perhaps going and talking to Steve would bring you some sort of closure. Maybe then you could move on with your life, get with a nice guy who would mean it when he tells you he won't leave you, who loves Grant like he’s his own biological offspring, and to take care of the both of you through thick and thin.

You gladly daydreamed of this fantasy man while driving to the shop, but you couldn’t help but to see Steve’s face doing all of the aforementioned things. Before you even fell pregnant, that’s what you’d truly wanted with Steve. To be a family. To have your definition of home be with your people, rather than a place.

Entering the coffee shop, you briefly ordered your drink before looking around and find Steve sitting alone in a booth, mindlessly stirring around the liquid in his cup.

Timidly, you approached the booth, before setting your purse down and sitting across from him.

“You... you came?” He looked up to you with almost watery eyes.

“Of course I did,” you tried to hold yourself back from mentioning something about following through on your word. You wanted this to be as civil as possible. To build bridges rather than burn them.

“I just didn’t expect to see you in person again. And, you know, you were running a little late,” he added.

“Well, you try waking a five year old up and getting him ready for school every day,” you expelled a humorless chuckle to deflect from the slight agitation you were feeling.

“While you’re hungover?” Steve asked with a bit of a smirk, trying to lighten up the mood.

“While you’re hungover,” You confirmed, genuinely laughing now. It felt good, natural even. You’d kind of forgotten just how pleasant things used to be with Steve.

“Did you mean it last night?” he interrupted the laughter with a serious look.

“I honestly cannot remember anything I said last night. Elaborate, please?”

“That he’s mine. Your son.” He watched you silently nod, then began to speak again, “Wow, I just didn’t realize… How did that happen?” He looked down into his drink nervously.

“Well, it’s kind of hard to recall the exact details, but when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much...” You trailed off, and looked up as a barista called a butchered version of your name.

You were glad to have an excuse to get up and leave for a moment. Adrenaline was racing through your body, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep your composure before you erupted into tears, or had some sort of angry outburst.

Bringing your cup back to the booth, you sat down and took a sip of the scalding drink, “Where did we leave off?”

“I believe you were giving me the birds and the bees?”

“Right! Well, I think you know the rest. I’ll tell you more about Grant later. Right now, I want to know why you left and suddenly decided to come back.” You genuinely felt proud of your delivery. This was the moment you’d practiced in front of the mirror for years, and you didn’t even butcher it.

Steve shook his head and looked into his drink once again. It was so hard to look at you, let alone make eye contact with you, when he knew that he’d been the one to give you an ocean of grief. Yet, he was somewhat intrigued by hearing that his son’s name was his middle name.  

“It’s kind of a long story,” Steve began.

“Good thing we have time,” you crossed your arms as you spoke.

“Well, waking up in a whole new time period isn’t exactly the easiest thing ever. You and me both know I missed it there, and it’s always been more than just nostalgia for me. I truly believed that I belonged back there.”

Of course, you had an idea of this, but hearing Steve confirm what you’d already thought made your insides twist.

“But I was so wrong. More than anything, I guess I was in love with a romanticized version of the past. Of Peggy.”

Hearing her name, especially from Steve, made you bristle. You wanted to interrupt him at this point, but it wouldn’t do you or him any good to become hostile while he explained himself.

“By the time I realized, it was too late. I figured you’d already moved on and found someone else to take care of you, and the world, this world, didn’t really need me anymore. But something possessed me to come back.”

“So you’re telling me that if you stopped being an idiot that just assumes things, we could’ve worked this out before? That you could’ve been an active participant in your son’s life?”

“I guess that’s a good way to interpret that story. I know I haven’t been in his life, but is there any way that I can still meet him?” Steve asked hopefully.

“Yeah, of course. He’s just like,” you sighed a bit to yourself. “He’s like a carbon copy of you. Especially his personality, but like, down to his mannerisms. I always struggled to understand how he could be so much like his dad, and never even had met him. You’ll love him.”

“Even if I didn't like him, I’d still love him.”

“How do you still manage to be such a cheeseball all the damn time? You think you’d be able to make it to dinner tonight?”

----

At exactly 6:30 on the dot, your doorbell rang, and before you even had the chance to think about opening it, Grant already was at the door, and opening it. You cringed on the inside, and made a mental note to have another conversation about stranger danger with him.

“Do I know you? Who are you?” you heard your child question from the other room as you set down the last of the plates in your dining room.  

“I’m Steve, your mom’s friend... and…” Steve nearly spilled the beans to his son, but didn’t want to cause any more damage than he’d already done. “Her friend.”

“That’s so cool! I have friends too, like Nick, and Stacey, and,” you’d rushed up to the door and wiped your brow, internally hoping that you hadn’t just smudged the makeup you’d put on for the occasion.

“Hi, Steve, come on in,” You beckoned him in, and pulled Grant to the side, quietly scolding him before leading Steve into the dining room. “Grant! This is the last time I’m telling you about opening doors, okay?” He nodded obediently, then followed you and Steve.

“Can I sit next to your friend, Mommy?”

“Is that alright with you, Steve?”

“More than fine.”

Grant sat down next to him, and scooted a bit closer than necessary, while you sat across from the two of them.

“I have to in… enter a gate you now. Because Mommy never brings any over her friends over. I didn’t know she had any friends.”

You blushed a bit at this, at your son’s overdramatic behavior, and his admission that you’d become a bit of a loner.

“Go ahead, pal,” Steve chuckled heartily.

“When did you meet my mom?”

“Before you were even born.”

“Wow! That’s a long time. You’re really old. What’s your favorite dinosaur?”

“I’ve heard T-Rexes are pretty cool.”

“Have you met any?”

You nearly spat out your drink at this. If only your son had known.

“Nope, never. Have you?”

“Hmm, not yet. But they’re my favorite dino too. Now your ‘gating is over.”

You couldn’t help but to burst out into laughter at the bizarre exchange, but you were glad that your son and Steve were getting along so well.

The rest of dinner went pretty similarly, with Grant bantering with Steve, and Steve indulging him. You could tell that the relationship between the two of them was something that came both naturally and easily. You couldn’t help but to grin as Grant began to ramble about how cool Steve was, and how he swore he was better friends with Steve than you were.

“Mommy, isn’t Steve the best? You guys should totally get married so he can have dinner with us every day!” he swooned. “He even kinda looks like me, right?!”

That’s why you couldn’t help what came out of your mouth next.

“Grant, Steve is… He’s your dad,” you said quietly.

Grant nodded, then slurped up a noodle, “That’s why he’s so cool! He gets it from me, right Mom?”

“That sounds right to me,” You glanced up at Steve, and noticed his surprised expression. You mouthed something along the lines to ‘He’ll process it later,’ and waved a dismissive hand, before going in for another bite of food.

----

After putting Grant to bed, You and Steve stood at your kitchen sink, bumping elbows occasionally as the two of you silently worked together to wash and dry dishes.

The domesticity and familiarity of the action brought you an obscene amount of comfort. You remembered how you once believed that this is what your future would look like. Your thoughts were interrupted by Steve beginning to talk.

“Doesn’t this remind you of life after the first snap?” He asked, breaking the silence.

“Kind of. You’re not off the hook yet, by the way. You still have plenty of explaining and proving you’ve changed to do.” You set the last cup in the cupboard, then dried your hands off.

“I know, I know,” Steve began.

“We don’t even know if you’re ready for fatherhood. But right now, I kinda don’t care. I really just want you to kiss me.” You reached up to Steve’s cheek, and he pulled you in for a soft and chaste kiss.

You’d never felt more at home.

——

me with this fic:

[jaskiersvalley]

Hello!! 💕 Just wanted to let you know that I love your "Jaskier has always smelled of blood" au. It means a lot to me 💛 I feel like it brings some kind of awereness to the issue and I'm really gratefull for it. Thank you 💕

Nonnie, thank you so much for your kind words. That AU is one that I spent a lot of time mulling over and debating whether to write it or not. But given the fact that it means a lot to you, it was most definitely worth it. There is actually another topic that has been on my mind a fair amount that is as heavy as that AU, which is what happens when a suicide attempt doesn't succeed. Hopefully you won't mind if I write that as a little thank you for your lovely ask.

CW: Suicide attempt (overdose of Witcher potions)

Love wasn't meant to be part of a Witcher's life. That was what Eskel had always been taught and he accepted it as his lot in life. When he was younger, he had raged against it, tried to defy the truth. He attended parties, wooed and seduced wherever he went. Love never stuck but at least his lust was sated. Then Deidre happened and Eskel had a new reality to get used to, one where he was seen as monstrous, hideous and repulsive. Those were just Lambert's teasing words, trying to exaggerate and poke fun at the situation. Not that it helped. Suddenly, Eskel could only attend masquerade balls where his face was hidden from view for fear of upsetting humans. It was either that or finding hungry and desperate succubi who valued his Witcher enhanced attribute more than his visage. It didn't stop Lambert from cracking jokes.

"You don't have a succubi problem, you just have a succuebae. Get it? Before anyone else!"

It was easy for Lambert to say, brothels still took his coin if he wanted it. Though, by the sounds of stories, he didn't need to frequent such places, not when he had a Cat Witcher travelling with him and eager to share all aspects of the Path, not just the pay for contracts. Still, Eskel couldn't begrudge Lambert, he'd always had a shit lot in life. If he could buck the rule about love, good for him, he deserved that slice of happiness.

Then Geralt had to go and find himself a bard who was devoted to him. Eskel could smell the pining on Geralt over winters and then love when Jaskier finally spent the winter with them. That was fine too. Much like Lambert, Geralt also deserved someone to love and share his life with. Even multiple someones when Yennefer arrived and had no need of a room of her own.

It was fine. Eskel could be happy for them. He wasn't jealous, didn't feel like he'd been cheated out of anything. Those were thoughts he turned away from every night when he pulled his covers tight around him and pretended he didn't wish it was the warm embrace of a lover, probably much like the other two had.

Things got worse when Eskel started getting left out of things. There were games that the happy couples played in the evenings, something about how well they knew each other. It was raucous and fun by the sounds of it. Eskel stayed in the kitchen, cleaning because it wasn't a game he could play. The double dates looked fun, going out on rides. Once Yennefer even opened up a portal for them to spend a night away for some romantic getaway. The bard about Eskel bringing Lil Bleater had stung more than he cared to admit. Slowly, Eskel was forgotten. Vesemir had his books, was content with those and the letters he seemed to send. If Eskel was lucky, he'd end up like him. But Eskel didn't want to become Vesemir in his old age. Not even Vesemir really, not when Eskel didn't even have friends to exchange letters with.

The bleakness of it ate away at Eskel for years. Each time he returned to Kaer Morhen without a travelling companion, without someone to write to, he felt like a failure. To the point that he tried drinking, tried fisstech, anything to forget, even if just for a little while. Nothing worked though, every time reality caught up with him. There was only one solution he could see, one where there was no tomorrow to wake up to. It wasn't a rash decision, Eskel didn't immediately act on those thoughts. But his mind was made up and with that came a sense of relief. He had a few things to get in order, to figure out but there was now an end in sight, a way out and on his own terms.

One last winter he made the trek to Kaer Morhen. He had a tidy pack of coins, some truly excellent Gwent cards and a large stash of potions he had brewed up. All in all, he looked like he had a good year on the Path. Nobody needed to know that all his external riches were a façade for the poverty of his heart.

His plan was a simple one. It wasn't like a Witcher left a will or anything like that, his measly belongings got scavenged when he didn't return from a contract. That wasn't what Eskel wanted, he was going to make sure all his belongings were going to go to the person he wanted them to end up with. Which was why he started with Gwent. He played Geralt and, slowly but surely, lost all his best cards. Eskel prided himself in how he could play so well that they others believed he was having a bad run. Couple it with drinking some of Lambert's brew, it was an uproarious night full of laughter, friendly slaps to his back and loudly declared sympathy for his poor, alcohol addled brain.

Once the good Gwent cards were gone, Eskel switched out, claiming he needed someone lesser to play because Geralt was just too good. As predicted, Lambert took great offence at being called a worse player and shoved Geralt out the way. Eskel bet money, a nice pair of gloves and, in an almost unheard of turn, Scorpion.

"I needed to leave you with things to barter with for the rest of winter," he told Lambert with a smile. "Because I'll be winning it all back in the coming weeks, with interest on top."

The laughter that went up at that was nice. Eskel was satisfied all the worthwhile things in his possession had found good homes. Vesemir had already taken the spices and seeds he had returned with, along with the small mountain of foods that would keep them well fed over winter. What Eskel didn't expect was the hugs and pats to his back as they got ready to get to bed.

"It was nice to see you smiling and laughing again," Jaskier commented.

"This was like the old days," Lambert agreed, rubbing his knuckles over the top of Eskel's head viciously.

Aiden clasped his shoulder and gave it a squeeze with a smile. "Good to have you back."

It wasn't like Eskel had ever left, he had been there all those years, it was the others who didn't want him. It didn't matter now though. They'd had one final night together, it all went well. Eskel waved goodbye to them all, heart heavy but also light. He couldn't have asked for a better final evening.

Back at his room, he sat down on his bed and looked around. There wasn't much left. The furs and throws were all down in the communal areas, he'd migrated those down over the last couple of weeks. His armour wouldn't fit anyone and it wasn't suitable for reworking for the others. It would be the perfect thing to wear to his funeral pyre so he pulled it on one last time, taking a deep breath as the familiar scent of worn leather enveloped him. All the potions he'd brought back with him were lined up on his bedside table. He knew what he was doing. The others would understand, maybe even take it as the gift he meant it to be. He wouldn't be the odd one out anymore, the loner who brought the group down by hanging onto their coattails. They could have their double dates, their romantic getaways without having to worry about him or feeling guilty for leaving him behind.

The first potion was Cat, he downed it, feeling the world shift into larger clarity in the darkness of his room. It didn't sit heavy in his stomach, three potions were fine to take, four was when the toxicity began to affect him. Though Eskel was a large man, he could probably deal with about six potions before he became ill. It was why he had fifteen little bottles lined up, one worse than the other in terms of toxicity. Next, a Maribor Forest slid down his throat, followed by a Lapwing. They were all conflicting potions, making his body shake. Brock tasted foul but it was still better than Rook which made Eskel's heart pound. Taking a break, Eskel settled back on his bed, head spinning. He could feel his whole body shaking with unspent energy the potions teased out of him. It felt horrible, his stomach roiled. Without his attention on some creature and the fight for his life, Eskel couldn't help but focus on the way his joints seemed to itch, his muscles tingling.

Five potions weren't going to be enough. Reaching for another bottle, Eskel knocked back two Thunderbolts in a row. He gagged but pushed on, head swimming. Virga at least tasted a little better. It was wiped out by the Nekker Warrior Decoction. The world was fuzzy, Eskel whimpered a little as his muscles seized and cramped and his stomach ached. He'd rarely taken enough potions to even flirt with the edges of toxicity, to deliberately do it was agony. This wasn't how he'd expected it to go, he thought he'd take them, lie back and go to sleep. Pain was not part of the deal but he would shoulder it, this was his choice. A couple of the empty bottles clattered to the ground as he reached for the next one. Most of the Black Blood went down his chin as he spluttered. Leaning against the headboard, he closed his eyes, willing the wooziness to go.

Maybe to took more potions, maybe they were dreams, he didn't know. What Eskel did know was that he woke up in his bed, the sun shining bright in the sky. Head pounding and stomach churning, he could smell stale vomit in the air. Rolling onto his side, he threw up over the edge of his bed. Breathing shaky, Eskel coughed miserably and spat to clear the bitter taste from his mouth. Judging by the state of his floor, it wasn't the first time he had thrown up but it was definitely the only one he could remember. Flopping back onto the bed, Eskel covered his face with his palms and choked back on a howl of frustration. He couldn't even kill himself properly.

The problem was, Eskel had no plans for what to do if he failed. He'd been so certain that he would go to sleep and never wake up again. At a loss, he fell back onto habits and routine. He was already dressed in his armour which was acceptable clothing to go downstairs for breakfast. Nothing heavy, he couldn't face the idea of eating anything. But a drink of water would do him good. Stumbling into the kitchen, he grunted a greeting at the others who seemed to be having lunch. Of course they didn't notice he hadn't gotten up for breakfast. Either that or they just didn't care.

"You're dressed ready for war," Lambert joked but the smile on his face froze when Eskel looked at him. "Woah. You look like shit."

Geralt was out of his seat and grabbing Eskel by the chin, giving him a close inspection and a less than subtle sniff. Whatever he detected had him tensing up and glancing to Lambert who looked alarmed too.

"Let's get a bit of food in you," Geralt rumbled and guided Eskel to the table where Aiden's face turned stricken. Even Jaskier and Yennefer looked solemn, their usual rivalry nowhere to be seen. In fact, everyone seemed intent of giving Eskel the attention he didn't crave.

From the doorway, Lambert called, "Geralt" and stepped back. But the clink of bottles in his hand and the hushed, hurried conversation gave away the fact Eskel's dirty secret had been found out.

"I'll go clean the room but he's not going back there. Not alone," Lambert growled. The others around the table didn't even bother pretending they weren't listening in.

Vesemir's footsteps approached and Eskel wished fervently that the potions had done the job. Especially as he listened to the conversation.

"What's going on here?"

"It's Eskel he-" the clink of bottles followed again, Lambert no doubt showing Vesemir the evidence of Eskel's shame.

"I see." Vesemir rumbled softly and walked into the kitchen. He sat down next to Eskel, not saying a word. However, he squeezed his shoulder and swapped out the tankard of water for a warm tea, adding a dash of honey to it. "Geralt, get a Golden Oriole from the cupboard."

Eskel could only watch as it was added to his tea, heart sinking. Nobody said anything. Not even when Lambert returned, looking a little green in the face. He sat down, squirming in the silence.

"Are we not going to say anything about it?" He asked in the end. "We can't just pretend it never happened."

"We won't," Vesemir replied, voice warm but also full of warning. "But there's a time and place for everything. Right now, our priority is the physical. The Golden Oriole will help. Then Eskel will go and have a lie down in front of the fire to sleep and let his body heal."

It was so much easier to follow Vesemir's instructions than have to think for himself. Eskel hadn't thought he'd see the sun again, hadn't thought he'd have to worry about things like daily chores and ways to spend the long hours of a day. At some point he must have finished his tea because the mug was empty but Eskel didn't remember it. He was ushered towards the pile of furs and throws from his room and he sank into them, exhausted already. He was only half awake as he heard the conversation around him while a throw was carefully draped over him.

"How could he do this?" Geralt hissed, sounding angry for the first time. "Why would he do this to us?"

"I'm sure we'll find out." The reply from Vesemir was soft and calm. "But what we need to focus on is helping him realise it was a good thing he didn't succeed."

"What if he tries again?"

"We have to hope he doesn't. He won't be alone for the next few weeks, we'll take turns keeping him company. And hope that we can do enough to make him want to stay." Vesemir was oddly calm and resigned. "I've seen others do this before. We can only hope to counter the darkness that has befallen his mind."

Lambert joined the quiet conversation. "But he seemed so happy last night. In fact, he's been the most at peace in years. I thought he was getting better."

Even half asleep, Eskel could understand the words, appreciate the thoughts behind them. But he didn't know if the plan would work. He doubted the others would understand or would be able to do anything to help him. After all, they still had their partners, lovers and each other. All Eskel knew for certain was that if he tried again, he'd do something with an assured outcome. He just hoped the others would understand.

[fabianocolucci]

Can we have one lighthearted and optimistic show or movie for once?

Hello, I am writing this post because I have read that the CW is making a TV show about the PowerPuff Girls, except they’re going to be depicted as “20-somethings who are disillusioned after having spent their childhood fighting crime”.

Reading that angered me, I have to admit it, because this is just the latest of a never ending series of shows and movies that try to take something that is supposed to be lighthearted, funny and optimistic and turn it into something dark and edgy about how much life sucks, trying to highlight that “we live in a society” and so on.

Riverdale is the example many people come up with most of the time, and I can see why: its shared universe (which includes The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina) is a textbook example of how Hollywood keeps handling these things. However, what many people fail to realize is that this trend has been going on since long before the CW took Archie Andrews and the others and tried to be as dark and edgy as they can.

When Batman Begins proved to be a huge hit, and it was followed by an even greater hit (The Dark Knight), Hollywood apparently thought that the reason of its success was that it tried to be darker and edgier. However, those things worked only because Christopher Nolan wanted to take a popular superhero and tried to depict him in a more realistic tone (after all, their movies may be even darker than what Batman is supposed to be, unless you take in consideration any Batman comic written by Frank Miller).

Since then, we’ve seen countless movies, games and shows that tried to be so dark they’ve become bleak and, honestly, even a bit bland.

On the superhero side, we’ve seen multiple depictions where, for instance, Superman has become evil and is now a force that needs to be stopped (they even made a movie about this being a possibility, as if it��s inevitable), while we’ve seen at least four live-action depictions of Batman being a killer hero who has lost his vision and hope (to the point where Batwoman casually mentioning how Batman has a no killing code was enough to make that world’s Batman a lighter version than what is the current trend). The Netflix shows about Marvel superheroes even made it look like the Avengers’ arrival caused nothing but problems for New York (admittedly, they kind of have to depict New York this way, otherwise it would feel weird how there’s so many superheroes in that city and yet crime is still a thing).

On the fantasy side, because of Game of Thrones’ success, now every fantasy TV show wants to emulate it, and as such we have bleak, humorless worlds where there’s a lot of darkness, with constant “mature” content like swearing and sex (The Witcher is a great show, but they could have toned it down a bit, in that context). It’s like even a genre whose name is literally “fantasy” can’t escape in trying to depict a more gritty and real world where everything always has to be dark.

On the science fiction side, well, we’ve seen the new Star Wars movie, which took the ending of Episode VI, which was full of optimism and hope, and basically said “nope, everything now is so dark and lonely”. I guess one of the reasons why you could pretend the sequel trilogy never happened is that, well, they end with a more positive note than whatever happened after episode IX.

On the TV side, there isn’t just Riverdale or the upcoming PowerPuff Girls show. The Winx Saga has taken away all the color of the cartoon (no, seriously: everything is so grey and soulless looking in the TV show that someone may have to tell you they’re supposed to be The Winx Club in live action). The Nancy Drew show now is a dark mystery more in line with Riverdale actually. Netflix is making an Avatar show and apparently they want to age up the characters “so that they can have sex” (which somewhat implies that there’s someone who looked at 12 year old Aang or 14 year old Katara and thought “I want to see them have sex”, which is so creepy and disturbing that I even regret pointing it out).

This would not be such a big deal if there wasn’t the fact that we’re talking about the vast majority of big movies and shows! Even something funny like Lost in Space has been turned into a dark remake.

Why is it so hard to find something in Hollywood that doesn’t try to be dark and depressing? Well, I think there are multiple reasons, which I’m going to point out:

·       There is this idea among writers that drama is the only thing that keeps the plot interesting. Characters need to have tragedies thrown at them all the time, they constantly have to fight and (usually) heavens forbid if they even try to lighten up a bit. This is, of course, wrong, as shown by how many fanfiction writers take characters who have a life made of day-by-day drama and depict them in quiet scenes like them making a meal for their beloved or just going to a vacation where they can relax. Just because depicting nothing but quiet and peaceful moments can become boring on the long run, doesn’t mean it can never happen;

·       Because we live in dark times, then everything has to be dark. It’s as if people can’t experience any sort of hopeful escapism when out there it seems like nothing but tragedies and negativity occurs outside of their windows. Illnesses, war, deaths, recessions and so on happen 24/7, so how can you showcase even a bit of positivity? Well, I have one question: what kind of escapism would constantly remind you of the very thing you are trying to temporarily escape from? If I want to forget about the World’s problems for an hour, then why on Earth are you making me think about them? Who decided that the best way of forgetting that life sucks is to have your story say “life sucks” all the time? I don’t understand;

·       Writers are probably influenced by the “loser culture” on the internet. I mean, wherever you go on social media, people seem to have a race to see who has the most miserable life. Many comic artist have their characters experience all sorts of problems and negativity, there’s a lot of memes about negative stuff (how many times have you seen a wholesome post with a reblog or a retweet adding something negative? For example, I don’t know, someone tweets “I asked my mom a puppy, she brought me five of them” and someone says “if I asked it to my mom, she’d bring five slaps to my butt”). Of course, if I, a writer, see that people can’t stop talking about how much their life suck, I would think “well, maybe that’s all they want to hear about” and make characters with miserable lives;

However, I have always noticed how there’s a medium who seems to not be easily affected by all this stuff: animation.

You want a fantasy show where everything is colorful and bright? There’s lots of cartoons for that.

You want to see superheroes doing their best to fight for the good of the World? There’s plenty of them in animation.

You want hope and positivity? Tune in on any station that airs cartoons and you will find it.

However, the problem is that this goes hand to hand with the old stigma that, well, “cartoons are for kids”, so it feels like movies and TV shows are saying “positivity and happiness are for children. Grow the hell up and see how dark and hopeless the World truly is!”.

Why is trying to be positive and optimistic something that can’t happen if you’re a mature person? Why is it so wrong to just want to see a bit of peace in these media?

I don’t know what else to say or to add, so it’s best if I finish my post right here. So, here’s my opinion:

Even though it is okay for you to tell me a story where nothing matters, where “we live in a society” and where you can’t have good things, it should be balanced with something. Have you ever seen the Yin Yang symbol? Why do you think it depicts darkness with a little bit of light? Because nothing can be completely dark. So, just try to add some good energy in your story. It won’t be an issue for anybody to just have one moment where everyone smiles.

[wylanvnneck]

Hi hi! Congratulations! Can I ask for a Jurdan shot with the prompt in miscellaneous, *kiss post break up*? Thank you 💖

Miscellaneous Prompt #4:  *A kiss post break-up that neither was expecting but both needed* (action prompt)

Fandom: TFOTA

Ship: Jurdan

Masterlist | Prompt List

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Jude relished the burning sensation in her thighs as she completed her third round of the massive fountain at the center of the park. The early morning air was cool and the sunshine was just starting to heat up the place, creating the perfect setting for her usual morning jog. This particular spot was practically deserted, the only sound to be heard was the chirping of the birds and the light rustle of the trees and this type of peace was precisely what she needed before yet another tough day at work where she’d have to deal with her asshole colleagues. Well, just the one colleague. Cardan Effin’ Greenbriar.

The thought of his smug face and ludicrous cheekbones was enough to make her quicken her pace, a bead of sweat making its way down the side of her flushed face. Thoughts of his betrayal flood her mind and she wonders how she could ever have thought of him as roguishly charming. The man was a scoundrel, a blackguard. He was also not worth thinking about. She pushes the image of his floppy black locks and dark eyes away from her mind and runs even faster, leaving all her problems behind. This moment is cathartic, it was escaping all her turmoil, it was freedom and she relishes it.

Suddenly, she picks up on the sound of a twig snapping nearby. Out of the corner of her eye she spots a figure moving behind her, walking slowly and close to the trees lining the pathway, as if they didn’t wish to be seen. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion and her mind whirs, defensive martial art positions running through her head. From a young age her father had instilled in her the dangers of being out alone in deserted spots and the importance of always watching her back and she’s now on high alert as the figure behind her seems to be trying to move even further into the trees, still only a few feet behind her.

Thinking fast, she turns at the next corner and ducks behind a thick tree to the side, crouching her body behind it. The wood is scratchy under her sweaty palms and her heartbeat is racing at a mile a minute, the tension cutting through her body like a sword. Her surroundings seem sharper, more vibrant in her anxiety and soon enough she hears the light footfalls of someone approaching the turn. Seconds later, the figure is almost right in front of her, stopping when he realises that she’s no longer on the path. Finally she manages to get a good look at him and when she does she can’t help but let out a shocked gasp.

“Jude?” Standing right there in front of her with a bemused expression is Cardan Greenbriar, her colleague and ex-fling. She refused to think of him as anything else. “What on Earth are you doing?”

“What am I doing? You’re the one who’s been following me like some perverted creep.” Stretching herself back to her full height she steps away from the tree and onto the path to face him, her eyes narrowing and her blood pounding. How dare he act as if she were the one acting bizarrely.

“I-” The tips of his ears turn red and his hands wring together, “That’s fair I suppose. I was just umm…”

“Yes?” His blundering manner is uncharacteristic and confusing. Usually, he was the most overly confident bastard out there. Cardan Greenbriar was the suave type of guy who always knew exactly what to say and when, a talent that made him extremely useful as Head of Sales for Elfhame Enterprises, the company owned by his father Eldred Greenbriar, where they both worked.

“I simply wanted to talk to you alone for a bit but I figured that you’d avoid me at work and avoid any calls and texts from me too so I thought I’d come meet you at the park on your daily jog instead.” The words come out in a fast-paced stream, nearly unintelligible, his cheeks now red as well.

“Let me get this straight, you wanted to talk to me alone so you decided to stalk me at the park on my morning run and nearly give me a panic attack in the process?” She almost can’t believe her ears.

“When you put it like that it sounds wrong!” He huffs.

“How exactly am I supposed to put it, Cardan, that’s exactly what you did!”

“Alright so I may have lost my nerve and decided to trail you for a bit before approaching you. I realise now that that was a dumb idea.”

She resists the age to facepalm. “You think?”

“Look can’t we just put this all behind us?”

She lets out a long-suffering sigh whilst bringing her hands up to lightly massage at her now throbbing temples. “Okay, you said you wanted to talk? About what?”

The entire time that they'd been talking his stare had been trained somewhere near her chin, but now he raises his gaze to directly meet hers. “About us.”

“There is no us.” He’d made certain of that.

He takes a step forward, eyes blazing and she takes a larger step backwards, determined to keep her distance.

“Jude, you have to give me a chance to explain, you owe me that at least.”

“I don’t owe you anything.”

There was no possible explanation that he could give for what he’d done. They hadn't always been at loggerheads, her and Cardan. At least, they hadn’t been for some time until the last week. When Jude had first joined the company last year, she’d despised the overly arrogant son of Eldred Greenbriar, thinking of him as the rich, self-entitled jerk that she was forced to work with.

Then a couple months in, he managed to persuade her to go on a date with him, one date and then if she didn’t want to agree to another he’d get the message and move on. So she’d gone, expecting to hate every minute of it, except that she hadn’t. They’d actually gotten along surprisingly well, he’d taken her to a chill little Diner, not the over-the-top fancy restaurant that she thought he’d pick and he’d opened the car door for her like a gentleman. They had chatted for hours about their multitude of shared interests and drank Carlton beer and drunkenly waltzed together along the floor and it was perfect and wonderful and crazy.

After that they became an item, they would share heated interludes by the otherwise deserted office printing machine in true cliché Office Romance fashion and they’d even kissed under the mistletoe at the office Christmas party and things were going great, until one day, Jude overheard a conversation between him and his brother, Balekin Greenbriar, Eldred’s right hand man and future heir of the company.

She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, she was only coming into Balekin’s office to hand over a file when she’d recognised Cardan’s voice saying her name. She would never forget the words that she had heard him say. ‘She’s a distraction...only a pointless fling....thought it would be fun to get under her skin....you know I like a challenge’.

The memory of those words alone are enough to bring back the hurt that had ripped through her when she had stood motionless on the other side of Balekin’s door, desperate to get away but trapped by her own denial and desire for self destruction.

Now she watches as he agitatedly ruffles his unruly black locks in front of her. “I swear to you, what you heard me say to Balekin, I didn’t mean a word of it.”

“Then why would you say it?” She’s torn between turning tail and leaving him there, turning her back on him for good or staying and waiting for his explanation, waiting to hear his reasons, why he’d done this to her, to them.

“You don’t know my brother, Jude.” His voice, his expression, his everything is bleak and open and vulnerable, begging for understanding. “He takes pleasure in destroying the things I love. It’s a game to him, one he’s been playing all my life, taking away what stops me from being miserable, and I couldn’t let him do that with you.

“Not with you,” he repeats, stronger. “You’re too important. So I knew I had to convince him that you meant nothing to me.”

Everything about his demeanour suggests sincerity and it definitely seems like he’s telling the truth and she wants to believe him, to trust him, she really does.

But she’s been hurt before and she doesn’t think she could chance being so again.

“I can’t trust you.”

“Yes, you can. You can choose to.” He steps forward now, close, so close, unrelenting.

She rises to the occasion and raises her face to meet his, a scant inch between them. “No, I can’t. I won’t.”

It’s a standoff now, neither willing to back down. The sun has made it’s way much higher in the sky and the yellow sunlight is beating down on them, the heat adding to the fire that has ignited between them.

“Stop being so stubborn, dammit,” he bites out, frustrated.

“Make me,” she sneers.

She doesn’t know how it happened, nor how she didn’t see it coming, but in the very next second Cardan’s lips are on hers, moving furiously and his arms are on her waist, holding her against him in an almost punishing grip.

It appears that he hadn’t quite seen it coming either because he pulls away from her before she has time to process more than a tingle running up her arms, his dark eyes wide and pupils dilated. They’re both breathing fast now, so close that they share breaths. They stare for a moment.

Then, with lightning speed she throws caution to the winds and wraps her arm around his neck, crashing her lips to his once more and this time she registers that his lips are soft under hers and he tastes like hot chocolate and breath mint and it feels glorious. It’s only been a little more than a week since they’d last kissed, but it felt like an eternity.

Minutes, hours, or days later they break apart, gasping for air and clutching at each other, neither one willing to relinquish their grip. Cardan rests his forehead on hers and looks at her with a startling amount of adoration and she knows right then and there that, scary as the thought is, she would forgive him anything, including this.

“Give me another chance?” He asks, pleading.

“Yes,” she breathes before reaching up to lose herself in kisses once more.

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I’m not entirely happy with this one tbh, but anyways here you go @franktastic-fangirl, thank you for sending in the prompt and for the congrats!🌻

Tagging my taglist (although I’m not entirely sure that I want y’all to read this, lol)- @cupcakesandkittens ​, @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln ​, @thewickedkings ​ and @kittkatandbooboo ​💕

Please let me know if you’d like to be added to or taken off of my TFOTA taglist :)

[addictedtostorytelling]

Hi

In the earlies seasons Sara was so dominat and confident about herself, so head strong, she even challenged and mock Grissom a lot of times, she was like his equal but then she was this scared little girl, so submissive, so fragile and insecured around him that made me hate Grissom for changing all about her, he literally make her afraid of even talk to him, he make her insecured and sad. He was like "I can't have you, so no one can have you either, so I'm gonna be so jealous and irrational rude to you and make you miserable as long as I want, and I will call YOU when I'm ready to be with you" agh

Poor Sara, she didn't deserved that from Grissom.

BTW I love your account 💓

hi, anon!

i have a couple of old metas here and here on the subject of how grissom does at times mistreat sara during the early seasons of the show, if you're interested.

elsewise, my thoughts are under the “keep reading,” if you’re interested.

__

while early on grissom is oftentimes unfair to sara and his behavior does sometimes hurt her, i don’t think we can blame sara’s s4 and s5 depression entirely on him.

as i talk about in this post, the situation is a lot more complicated than just “grissom is a dick to sara, and it breaks her.”

for one thing, many of the traits you identify in sara—i.e., her being dominant, confident, headstrong, etc.—were only a kind of false bravado on her part to begin with. 

the truth is that the sara of the early seasons of the show is very much scared and fragile on the inside due to the trauma she’s experienced throughout her life, but she doesn’t want to be perceived as weak, so she masks what she actually feels with a very affected type of stridence; she’s vulnerable, so she tries to pretend that she’s anything but.

—and that fear and that vulnerability were in her before anything ever happened with grissom.

those traits stem from her childhood abuse and from never having secure attachments, as well as from her being nearly constantly abandoned by the people who should have loved, cared for, and protected her throughout her life. 

as an adult, she has fairly low self-esteem, so she covers by talking a big game.

however, in actuality, she very much doubts herself and struggles to consider herself “worthy.”

certainly, grissom’s repeated rejections of her during s3 and s4 do not help her mental state in this regard at all—and don’t get me wrong: i’m not trying to “let him off the hook” for how he treats her; he definitely does do her wrong on multiple occasions—but the rejections are just one factor that contributes to the kind of “turning inward” that we see in her in s4 and early s5.

at that point, she’s broken up about more than just boy troubles.

at the heart of her depression lies her trauma. her parents’ abusive relationship and her mother murdering her father plus the time she spent in foster care (never being subsequently adopted) have left her with some very deep wounds, and for years she’s been just “soldiering through” with them rather than doing anything to actually heal them. she’s refused to be open about her problems with anyone or even really to face them herself, and after thirty odd years, the repression has caught up with her; her mental health is at an all-time low, to the point where she can longer function. she’s starting to struggle with her job and her friendships. she feels very hopeless and bleak, like nothing will ever get better in her life.

the fact that her boyfriend of over a year cheated on and humiliated her certainly doesn’t help matters, and neither does her sense that she’s stagnating in her career (unable to secure the kind of advancement that she wants). 

of course, grissom’s mistreatment of her is also a precipitating factor.

however, even without his missteps, she likely still would have hit a wall sooner rather than later.

there’s only so long one can put on a brave face, you know?

something had to give.

it’s not all his fault.

—and especially not because while he does do things that hurt her to start out, once he realizes what’s happening, he 100% course corrects and does his best to undo any damage he has wrought with her.

in s1, s2, s3, and s4, grissom does oftentimes act unfairly toward sara and play games with her emotions. however, he doesn’t do so purposefully; he’s just fumbling with his own feelings, not knowing how to navigate between his fear and his love. that so, all of the mistakes he makes are ones he comes by honestly.

of course, whether he intends to or not, he does end up hurting her, and the fact that he doesn’t necessarily mean to doesn’t mitigate that he does, so that’s not to handwave away his actions. regardless of what his motivations are, it is shitty of him to constantly put her off for three years and then begrudge her when she finally “takes the hint” and gets another boyfriend. it is harmful when he “punishes her” for asking him out at the end of s3 by denying her professional opportunities and generally acting cold to her throughout s4.

that’s not open to debate.

that said, it does count for something—and even for a lot—that as soon as grissom realizes how badly he’s hurt sara and how much his actions toward her have had the unintended consequences of “wearing her down,” he immediately changes tacks and from the events of episode 04x23 “bloodlines” on does everything in his power to validate her and build her up and make her realize that he does indeed value her (despite his previously aloof behavior).

like.

he’s not heartless. he’s not a villain.

he’s someone who made mistakes because he honestly doesn’t know any better, and then once he gets a clue that his behavior has been harmful, he genuinely changes and does better.   

—and the fact that he does is crucial, because, honestly, without the loving support and constancy he shows to sara in s5—without him being there for her enough that she comes to trust him with her full story—she likely never would have really healed in the way that she does throughout s5, s6, and s7.

like she talks about in reboot episode 01x04 “long pig,” grissom steps up and is there for her when she needs him.

having a real friend like that—and later a boyfriend and husband—does so much to stabilize sara. by opening up to him about her issues, she finally starts to really confront them for the first time in her life, and while her path to trauma recovery is not totally linear (in s8 and s9, things get worse for her before they actually really get better, even with grissom in the picture), just having that source of unconditional love in him does so much to help her. she starts to be grounded with him in a way she’s never been before.

and it’s from this grounding that sara actually starts to develop confidence in earnest.

the sara we see nowadays in the reboot has such a genuine ease to her and is so comfortable in her own skin, and that’s so different from how she was in the early seasons of the original show. all of the anger and sorrow that used to underlie her stridence back then is just gone now; she’s so much more at home in herself than she ever was before.

and, of course, just like we can’t entirely blame grissom for sara’s “brokenness” in s4/s5, we also can’t entirely attribute her “wholeness” in her later years to him, either—because naturally sara is herself responsible for that change more than anyone; she did the work to process her trauma and saved herself.

that said, we can acknowledge that grissom is ultimately good for her and that he does help her. for as much as he fucks up early on (and even sometimes in later seasons, like during the divorce), once he figures things out, he becomes her rock and really commits to being everything she needs.

so all of the above said, while you’re certainly entitled to hate grissom all you want (and especially to hate his actions toward sara in the early seasons of the show), i do think that it’d be reductive to say that grissom is the sole cause of sara’s downward spiral in the early seasons of the show AND that it would be unfair to ignore the way he shows up and is such a stalwart for her later on.

there’s much more nuance to the story than that.

anyway, thanks for the message! i’m glad you enjoy my account. please feel welcome to send questions any time.                     

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Is It Really THAT Bad?

How many fucking times must I talk about this movie?

I feel like this movie doesn’t need an introduction. Everyone knows this film. Its reputation precedes it. It didn’t bomb and it’s not generally considered one of the worst films ever made (at least on the level of films like Robot Monster or The Cat in the Hat), but this movie is easily one of the most divisive films ever made. This film has generated enough arguments that, if we harnessed the energy of all the flame wars it has caused, we could probably power the entire world until the heat death of the universe.

With the impending release of Zach Snyder’s bloated redo of Justice League, I’ve decided to go back and ask myself of this film here… is it really that bad?

THE GOOD

Here comes the most uncontroversial opinion: the action scenes in this movie rock (or at least two of them do). The standouts are the titular showdown, which almost makes sitting through the rest of the movie worth it, and the epic warehouse fight Batman gets into, which is like something straight out of the Arkham games. It’s so good. And aside from that, a lot of the cinematography in the film is good. The film knows how to look good, though unfortunately it does end up being a lot of style with little substance.

On the subject of Batman, I think Ben Affleck is a great and inspired choice. I certainly think he’s worthy of standing alongside Batmans like Clooney and Keaton, easily embodying both the Dark Knight and Billionaire Playboy aspects fairly well, though the writing does not always handle him quite as well as it should (we’ll get to that soon enough). Henry Cavill, while still a rather dour Superman, is as good as ever as Superman, and Gal Gadot as Wonder Woman was a great choice here, especially since she didn’t have control so that she could insert anti-Arab racism, like some DCEU movies.

Perhaps one of the movies most impressive feats is how, in an uncharacteristic moment of brevity, it manages to condense the backstory of Batman into the prologue, getting it out of the way and not making us sit through yet another Batman origin film. This is literally the only thing the movie has over the MCU; where that franchise just has the character Spider-Man inexplicably in existence without even a hint of his origins, they just get Batman’s tragic backstory out of the way so we can see him beating the crap out of people. If more superhero movies want to take this route and just condense the backstory into an opening montage like this, I’d be down for it.

THE BAD

I really could just say “most of the movie” but that’s such a cop out. Let’s actually look at the problems. Let’s work our way up through the things from least problematic to most, shall we?

The best place to start is what Zach Snyder did to Jimmy Olsen.

Jimmy Olsen is made into a CIA spook who is brutally killed early on, and yes, that was Jimmy Olsen. Snyder put him in to shock audiences with his senseless murder, and also because he felt the character had no place in his series. Does making Watchmen just turn people into joyless husks who like to horribly bastardize iconic characters? Jimmy Olsen is ultimately a small microcosm of the film, but he is the sum total of everything wring with the early DCEU. He is bleak, soulless, and shows a critical lack of understanding about the comics and why people enjoy them.

Now let’s move on to the more exciting problem to discuss: the villains. I don’t even think it’s worth wasting much time discussing what’s wrong with KGBeast. While it is kind of interesting they’d think to use the guy at all, the fact he never dons the costume and dies by the end of the film is unfathomably lame for a character named KGBeast.

Now, onto the main antagonist, and the most infamous part of the movie: Lex Luthor.

Lex Luthor is horribly, horribly miscast. Jesse Eisenberg is a great actor for sure, and he’s effective in movies like Now You See Me, The Social Network, and the Zombieland films. But here he is being asked to play one of the most diabolical cunning geniuses in comic book history, and rather than play him as such, he plays him like a cartoonish twit. This Lex is utterly unrecognizable as Superman’s greatest foe. Does anyone think Lex Luthor would send a jar of piss to someone as a joke before he blows them up? That’s more something the Joker would do on an off day. Lex is not cunning, not intimidating, and not diabolical in the slightest, and yet there are moments where Eisenberg’s acting chops shine through and Lex, for a moment, is almost engaging. Luthor really suffers the way Doctor Doom tends to in film adaptations: the filmmaker clearly doesn’t get why people like the villain, and decide to do some weird, unique take that will only cause to alienate fans.

But perhaps the worst of them all is Doomsday. Doomsday has exactly one claim to fame, and that’s killing Superman, so as soon as he shows up if you have even a passing awareness of the character you know how the movie is going to end, which robs the film of tension for its last battle. The fact he also appears with little buildup and doesn’t have any characterization doesn’t help; Doomsday is just the Big Gray CGI Blob that superhero movies try and pass off as a final boss for the heroes to fight. This has worked precisely once, in Iron Man. The Incredible Hulk and Venom did not make it work, and this film is nowhere close to being in the same ballpark as Venom.

By and far the biggest problem, though, is the movie’s incredible length and its very existence in the franchise at this point in time. This is an epic superhero crossover in which two of the biggest comic book characters of all time fight and then team up… And it is the second movie in a franchise. While they do a good job of establishing Batman rather quickly, Wonder Woman comes out of nowhere. And then at the end, Superman ‘dies.’ We have had one single movie prior to this to make a connection to the guy, and yet here he is getting a temporary comic book death with no buildup whatsoever that we know is going to be reversed sooner than later because the movie telegraphs this to us.

Imagine if, instead of building up the character over the course of a decade and putting him in all sorts of different stories, the MCU went right from Iron Man to Endgame. You go from a simpler, character-driven piece to a massive crossover where a hero dies right away, and it doesn’t give anyone time to care. Tony Stark had multiple films worth of characterization under his belt before they threw him in a crossover, let alone killed him, but Snyder expects you to give a damn about a Superman who just started his career in the previous movie of a franchise.

And the ass-numbing length of the movie is no justification. Even before the director’s cut came out this film was a slog, and the director’s cut really does nothing to earn its existence. All it does is add more runtime to an already tedious and bloated film, leading to the same exact ending and fixing none of the overarching narrative problems of the thing. The problem with any director’s cut is that ultimately the movie is still going to be Dawn of Justice, it’s still going to lead to extremely rushed character decisions, and it’s still going to be a mess. You’d have to redo half of the film to make this into a worthwhile and coherent narrative that’s actually worthy of being an entry in a superhero franchise.

And to top it all off, the movie spends far too much time foreshadowing for its own good. People criticized The Mummy for shoehorning in way too many shared universe elements right off the bat, and if that movie was bad for it, so is this one. The cameos from all the members of the Justice League, while striking, could be excised from the plot with little to no impact, and the Knightmare sequence is just excessive and weird.

Is It Really THAT Bad?

The answer to this question has never been harder.

On the one hand, this film does have some merit. There is some good casting choices, good cinematography, good action… But then, on the other hand, the film is overly long, pretentious, has poor writing and dialogue, mishandles everyone aside from Superman, and is just incredibly unpleasant.

This film is in many ways the exact problem Christopher Nolan created with his Dark Knight trilogy. Nolan, by grounding the fanciful characters of comic books into a realistic setting, created a climate in which someone could suck any sort of joy or meaning out of comics. The success of his films meant that people would see dark, gritty realism as preferable to joyous, colorful escapism, and the negative effects of his films, however good you find them, are still felt today even as filmmakers are finally shaking off the grit. Dawn of Justice is the zenith of Nolan’s style of superhero film. There is nothing fun, joyful, or engaging to be found here; it is simply the characters you know and love forced into dark, miserable scenarios that ends in death and misery. Where’s the fun? Where’s the color? Where’s the wonder, the excitement, where is any of it? This film paints a bleak and miserable and hopeless picture of a world of superheroes. It really makes me think of this rather famous comic panel:

I absolutely hate this movie, but not because I think it’s bad. I hate it because it has enough good ideas where it should be the best thing ever, but it really isn’t. It’s a miserable slog of a film that does nothing to justify or earn its massive runtime whatsoever. It really does belong somewhere between 5 and 6 on IMDB, because I can almost see why people like it, but it just isn’t even remotely close to being how good its fan say it is. This is not a good superhero movie, and this is not how we should want superhero movies to be. There is a market for serious superhero fare of course, and there’s no reason that these films can’t engage with mature themes or anything, don’t get me wrong. But this is absolutely not the way to do it.

[brave-clarice]

“Clarice” Liveblog: Episodes 5 & 6

Since these are extraordinarily late, I tried to keep them more concise/focused than before. I’m sorry for how long it’s taken me to (almost) catch up. And to the handful of you who’ve enjoyed these and encouraged me to do them: thank you!

Episode 5, “Get Right With God”

the music at the beginning of this episode might just be in the maintenance guy’s headphones(!) but it was still a…Choice.

there’s something so tragic about watching Clarice be unable to use her legs… :’(

this whole scenario feels like a twisted parallel universe version of the end of Hannibal.

glad to see Ardelia finally has her priorities straight and is going to fight for her best friend! let’s forget her Episode 4 subplot ever happened.

good: the warrior finding a weapon even in the direst of circumstances!

bad: those damn moths are back. at least this time they might be drug-induced.

“she worked Bill alone” no, she didn’t. not really. (Hannibal: I’m right here.)

stop trying to make Likable Paul happen, it’s never going to happen!!!

I HATE the “Reesey” nickname, y’all. HATE. IT.

plus, we know that her dad called her “Baby”?

her father’s appearance doubles down on the end-of-Hannibal vibes...Not Sure If Want.

wow, Clarice is being literally tortured? thanks, I hate it!!!

really doubt that Clarice’s Pinto used to belong to her father (who drives a truck in the books??)... weird flex.

and how would she even have gotten it? her mother would either have driven that car into the ground out of necessity or else have sold it for the money the Starlings needed so desperately.

Pintos also weren’t super high-quality cars and were definitely not built to last ~20 years.

Clarice already being able to chat with her father whenever she needs to really undermines the therapy Hannibal will eventually give her, but…I guess they’ve already accepted they’ll never make it that far?

“you’re trying to get in my head” yeah, and she’s doing it, too–’cause she learned from the best!

“you get an answer, I get an answer, Felker.” she’s Hannibal’s girl all right.

this episode’s had flashes of brilliance before diving back into…whatever tf watching one of your favorite characters of all time being tortured is.

I really wanted Ardelia to say that no, but Clarice was like a sister to her.

it took FIVE episodes to get some lamb imagery, but we’ve been looking at moths for the entire season?!

oof, Clarice voicing her own insecurities about her childhood abandonment and using them to twist Felker’s arm...painful but smart.

HANNAH!!!

I would die 4 baby Clarice

after all that, Clarice is going to apologize to Ardelia about last week? this episode SUCKS.

Good: Clarice playing mind games with Felker like Hannibal did to her; Ardelia going to bat for her bestie, lamb flashbacks, baby Clarice, and HANNAH!

Bad: So much. Clarice being medically tortured multiple times, moth hallucinations, the several-years-premature (imo) Daddy-as-Guardian-Angel plot device, “Reesey”...did I mention Clarice getting repeatedly tortured?!

Ugly: Krendler backstory + making out with his wife. Ew.

Wow, this episode was a hot mess, and I kind of hated it. I loved Clarice’s really Hannibalesque approach to Felker, and I’m so thrilled that Hannah got mentioned at all (tho...did they need to be so heavy-handed with the helmet and gun and everything?) Also nice to see Ardelia behaving much more in-character. That said, it was sickening and imo totally unnecessary to further traumatize Clarice the way they did. To make her almost helpless.

Clarice, and by extension Rebecca Breeds (who is fantastic and deserves better), has been given very little range so far. She’s frequently been shown as miserable, afraid, desperate, traumatized, angry, resentful, but I also want to see her joyful, laughing, silly, relaxed...something else that will give her depth. Her life wasn’t miserable 24/7, 365. It was just unfulfilling. We got glimpses of this in the first two episodes. PLEASE bring it back!

And rn I’m questioning how Clarice’s career can possibly drag on for another six years after this. Her apparent PTSD is already interfering with her job performance as it is--this experience is only going to make it worse. Her “body count” in Hannibal was around five, iirc, and that was enough to slap her with the “Death Angel” moniker. In the show at least four people have died in close proximity to Clarice in the space of like...a week. How does she come back from that, even as the savior of Catherine Martin? It’s a PR nightmare for obth Clarice and the FBI.

They’ve also sort of forgotten that the Martins existed while continuing to flesh out Krendler’s (?!) character? It’s weird.

I almost don’t even want to watch Episode 6 after that. But here goes...

Episode 6, “How Does It Feel to Be So Beautiful?”

the freaking MOTHS again, I hate them!

frankly, yeah, Clarice should be on leave.

Clarice’s nondescript monochrome suits and constant ponytail are just so boring. in the book she’s described as never having to put effort into making her hair look good--so why is it always pulled back in this show?

I’m not sure it’s very in-character for Clarice, at this point in her career, to go over her boss’s head to get out of admin leave (one she really needs to take tbh) even for the sake of solving a case

lol what the actual hell @ AG Martin guilt-tripping Clarice, who was very recently tortured and almost died, for not calling Catherine back? Clarice is not Catherine’s therapist!

THIS is what my Vogue-reading heroine with burgeoning great taste wears for a night out? so disappointing.

never in my life did I think I’d be sitting through Krendler’s personal drama in a show ABOUT CLARICE STARLING.

her costume sucks and her hairstyle’s from years in the future, but dang does Clarice look gorgeous.

and I love thinking of her getting a taste of the luxury she’ll enjoy with Hannibal. :)

you know what? I think I was actually fine with them forgetting that the Martins were in this show.

whyyy is Krendler being made so sympathetic?!

now Catherine Martin “loved to sew” just like Frederica Bimmel? hmm. (tbf, maybe this is in the novel, and I’ve just forgotten.)

her gift for Clarice is sweet, though.

so beautiful, indeed

Christ on a cracker, that confrontation between the Martins was painful to watch (not a criticism). this show’s AG and her daughter are very much two of a kind in terms of emotional manipulation.

I stan one (1) doofus

now either Catherine’s gaslighting Clarice...or Clarice’s trauma (over BILL! again with this!) is so pervasive that it’s twisted her memories. either way, I hate it.

so Krendler’s lawyer is dirty and that’s why he’ll (probably) turn against Clarice? but WHY? why can’t Krendler just suck?

Good: Clarice looking gorgeous, Ardelia continuing to fight for Clarice, female characters in positions of authority everywhere

Bad: Clarice’s underwhelming costumes, Clarice’s primary/worst trauma apparently STILL being Buffalo Bill & having Clarice break down crying again (and NOT over what happened last week, which would tbh make a lot more sense).

Sad: Shaan’s backstory about his wife, everything involving Catherine

Ugly: Krendler subplot. Ugh.

I just don’t know how I feel about this installment. Wish I cared more about the overarching conspiracy plot, but I’m really only here for Clarice and Ardelia. And while no show can stand on the shoulders of a single character, for a show about Clarice, there seems to be quite a bit of screentime devoted to her bosses, Martin and Krendler, and even to her team members. And all without Clarice herself getting much character development. They don’t seem to be exploring much of her character other than her traumatic backstories, and I’m no longer very hopeful that she’ll be much more fleshed out in the last four episodes, either. It’s a bummer. I really think Rebecca could shine like Jodie did if she were given a chance.

Most of the scenes with the Martins were visceral and felt so real that it was hard to watch. That said...the AG Martin/Catherine content all strikes me as being somewhat detached from the rest of the show, as if the writers are making it up as they go along with no real end goal in mind.

Man...these two were rough going. Very little humor or warmth and absolutely no joy. Of course the source material is dark, so a somewhat dark crime drama is to be expected, but I really think the show needs a slightly less intense, bleak and (dare I say it?) unpleasant episode. But they writers have really dug themselves into a hole by zeroing in on Clarice’s PTSD. And unlike in Hannibal, there’s no love interest with whom she (and by extension, the audience) can flee her misery and pain. 

I'm cautiously optimistic about the rest of the season. A lot of the ingredients are there, and despite my many criticisms, it’s been great to spend time with a character I love. Fingers crossed that they finish strong!