#it wasn’t even necessarily difficult to do just SO TIME CONSUMING

[crybaby-bkg]

tomorrow is my last day of having to do work for my classes and I’m just soooo ready for this upcoming break. I wanna write for an entire day at a time again and learn how to crotchet without putting so many expectations to be perfect the first time again!!!! I wanna paint and play my switch and just lay down without feeling guilty!!!!! I need it!!!!!!!

[owari--hajimari]

ngl i never quite understood neku’s first entry fee, his memories. like what specifically it was that neku valued most, and how his memories relate to that. i feel like his most valued thing isn’t all of his memories in and of themselves, necessarily, as that’s really broad, so what smaller, more exact thing does amnesia take from neku?

i think my three main theories on what specifically neku valued most are his identity/values, the knowledge of his past mistakes, or his reason to live/CAT. (under the cut cause it got a bit long)

i think neku’s identity/values being his entry fee is kind of the weakest, cause he notably still has those. kitaniji says “memories are the single greatest determinant of a person’s identity. a worthy entry fee, wouldn’t you say?”, which could imply that his identity was actually what he valued most, but even without his memories neku is still the person built by them. if his identity, his values, are what he valued most, shouldn’t he have been a different person, in one sense or another? though of course, it’s not as though we know extensively what neku was like before the Game, only extrapolations, so i won’t rule out the possibility that he is. neku significantly changes as a person over the course of the game, so it’s difficult to say for sure that the absence or presence of his memories was or wasn’t a large factor.

secondly, on “knowledge of his past mistakes”, this is rather more philosophical, but without the memory of making a mistake, what’s stopping you from making it again? rather than neku’s current identity being what’s most important to him, perhaps it’s what made him like this. the memory of his dead best friend, the guilt of feeling responsible for it, closing himself off from the world in retaliation. maybe that’s what’s most important to him. after rhyme is erased, neku thinks “this is just like that time… that time? what time? …i can’t remember” because amnesia, but anything that rubs up against memories that aren’t there is notable.

thirdly, neku’s amnesia means he doesn’t remember his reason to live, nor CAT, if those aren’t the same. when told that only one person can be reincarnated and that it’s already been decided to be shiki, in trying to get her to accept it neku says “i don’t know if i’ve got anything to go back to.” this is really similar to what rhyme said, “why come back to life if i’ve got nothing to live for?”. rhyme valued her dream, her ambitions, without that, she didn’t see the point in living. neku doesn’t want to die, but in the first week, neku has nothing of his own tying him to life, either. “this is like a dream. once i survive the seven days, does the dream end?” i think by forgetting everything, neku has forgotten his reason to live. and what i think said reason is? CAT. neku doesn’t mention or show any recognition towards CAT or their designs in week 1. of course. amnesia. and take this quote from week 2:

Neku: I thought I'd never respect anyone, until I saw CAT's mural and discovered a new philosophy.

Joshua: "Do what you want, how you want, when you want it," was it?

Neku: Yeah. It blew me away. CAT was living the life I always wanted to, but never thought I could. "Finally, someone who gets me," I thought. Enjoying the moment's about freedom. I just need to do my own thing like CAT. Forget about other people and just enjoy my life...

without remembering CAT, neku doesn’t remember to enjoy the moment. doesn’t enjoy his life. he is consumed by his misanthropy, unable to find the value in living, cause everything and everyONE is so annoying, and doesn’t have the framework to enjoy it despite that. CAT, the philosophy that neku (thinks he) lives by. i think this is a fairly strong theory of the point of neku’s entry fee.

finally, as a little bonus theory, with pretty much all the same reasoning as seen above, a bit taken from each: perhaps the thing neku valued most was “the capability of being understood,” despite it all. without the memory of his dead best friend, without the memory of CAT, without understanding himself, neku believes that nobody could ever understand him, and that he could never understand anybody else. and then, shortly after the return of his entry fee, he finds someone he kind of gets, and who gets him in turn. AND THEN HE LOSES THAT!!! and then he loses that…. i really like this theory, thematically. i think it ties a pretty neat bow.

neku’s final entry fee, the one taken in that duel with joshua, isn’t known at all. but i like thinking that it was “a friend he could relate to.” cause doesn’t that just wrench

[couldawouldashoulda50]

The Distance and the Time Between Us

Part One - February, 2016

A/N - Part one starts at the beginning where Y/N and William first meet. You can read the Introduction here

Y/N is invited by the organization to do some light-hearted promotional video shorts to try and elevate the mood surrounding the Leafs (the team is having one of their worst seasons on record) and support the Marlies (their season is the polar opposite). I have never really written dialogue before and truthfully, I struggled with it so hopefully it's not too painful to read. Hopefully my French isn't too brutal either.

Warnings: mention of medical issues, swearing

Word Count: 4.8k

Early February, 2016

“Okay, so the idea is that we’re going to test her knowledge about Sweden, and then in order to get a point, she also needs to shoot the puck in the net.  Then we’ll flip it over to you and you will need to answer some questions about Canada and then do the same with the puck. Easy, right?” Amanda chuckles at William as he makes an indiscernible, possibly bordering on unimpressed, face. 

“Why can’t you ask ME the Swedish questions…I mean, how hard are these questions anyway?'' William says, trying to coax the Marketing Manager into switching things up.  

“Because we have to make it somewhat challenging - there’s no fun in making it too easy for you” Amanda laughs.  “Plus, she may not know anything about Sweden so you could totally run away with this.”

“Yeah, let’s hope so…I’d rather not get pummeled and have the whole thing recorded…I’ll never live it down”  William laughs.  He finishes tying up the laces on his skates, exits the dressing room and joins the camera crew on the ice.

Not long after, you emerge from another dressing room of the practice facility for the Leafs and Marlies, decked out in a zip-up team jacket, dark tights and your hockey skates.  You were provided with a customized Bauer stick to match the one the former first-round pick uses.  You take a quick glance at your reflection in the glass and chuckle to yourself thinking, rather modestly, “it’s as good as it’s going to get”.  You adjust the Leafs toque that was provided to you and open the latch to the gate.

You hop onto the ice, trying to contain the sheer excitement of even being at this rink.  As a local girl, you were brought up watching the Leafs.  At the age of 4, you found a souvenir from a Maple Leaf’s game that your Dad had attended.  It was a glossy paged yearbook of the 1993/1994 Leafs roster and when your eyes fell upon Felix Potvin, the Leafs starting net minder, you were done…your little 4 year old heart fell head over heels in love with him.  The adoration for Felix made you a fan, not just of the team, but of the game.  It wasn’t an aspiration of yours to necessarily play hockey; the dreams of being a musician had already consumed your mind, body and soul.  It was the skating; the power and speed behind every glide that held your focus as you watched each game.  As a child, you took figure skating lessons but after years of struggling with some of the fundamentals due to your stout body structure, especially in your legs (making it difficult to do the ‘cross’ part of the ‘cut’), you dropped the lessons, and stayed away from participating in any on-ice activities.  

Years later, your height nearly reaching 5’9” after some significant growth spurts, your body took a more shapely and athletic form, mainly as a result of swimming laps nightly at the community pool.  Much like skating, the power and strength behind every movement with swimming laps appealed to you.  It taught you focus while developing precise and efficient motion.  You were a natural born worrier; the rhythm and repetition of gliding through water helped free you from the relentless chatter that plagued your mind.  

With the changes to your frame allowing your legs to finally accomplish the menacing cross-cut, and you now making money from your band's pursuits, the power skating lessons began.  With you being based in Britain at the time, it was challenging to find the exact program that you wanted.  You resigned to being the only 5’8”, fully developed 18 year old female taking “ice-hockey lessons” as they called it, alongside 8 and 9 year old boys.  You learned another valuable lesson during this time, learning to drown out the comments and unwanted input from those around you, in order to do what you love.  It came in handy - at this point in time, being an up and coming band, you still found yourselves playing gigs in front of audiences where 20% wanted to hear you and 80% did not.

And here you are now, a superstar in your own right, invited by the Maple Leafs organization to make some promotional video shorts with members of the current Maple Leafs and Toronto Marlies teams.  The Leafs were having a pretty tough season; the Marlies season was the polar opposite. The organization’s hope was that some light-hearted PR involving the once small-town Ontario girl, turned mega-celebrity, who happens to love both Toronto hockey teams, could help lighten the abysmal mood that infected the fan base.  

As he chatted with Amanda, William watched you with interest as you skated towards the production team.  He knows you - well, not exactly…he at least knows who you are.  William was familiar with a few of your hits and generally liked some of  your solo stuff but he was nowhere near the level of fandom of his three sisters.  Even William’s younger brother, Alex, was an avid follower of yours but he mused it might be more about your physical beauty than your music.

Alex nearly jumped through the phone last night when William explained that he was doing a video segment with you the following day.  

William hadn’t noticed his conversation with Amanda had completely trailed off; his eyes firmly set on you as you enthusiastically greeted each person on the set.   You were simply luminescent, and William was honestly taken aback with your natural ability to put everyone at ease.  Although you were the VIP of the day, you made everyone in the room feel like they were too.  

William’s sky-blue eyes traced the side-profile of your face; butterflies started to form in his stomach when you glanced towards him and smiled.  As he smiled back, the butterflies were replaced by an elephant stampede in his chest, and he began to feel an intense heat radiating from his cheeks.

You skated over to him and unbeknownst to you, he was actually nervous, despite his demeanor of appearing totally relaxed.  

“Hey William” you said, extending your hand.  “I’m Y/N - I’m so excited to meet you” you said, grinning your widest grin.

And as William grinned his widest grin back at you, there were two thoughts crashing in your mind at the same time - “Jesus - he’s fucking gorgeous” followed promptly by “he’s probably a prick so forget about it”.

“Nice to meet you too…. My sisters are huuuuuge fans of yours”, William said.

You smiled with appreciation “That’s awesome…please tell them thank you, from me, if you can.  It’s always so nice to hear that.” 

You paused - you didn’t want to pry, or sound intrusive but you saw the hit William took from the Swiss player at the World Juniors in December and had been on your mind since, given his connection with the Marlies.

Tentatively, you continued. “I saw some clips from the All-star Classic last week - it must have felt good to be back on the ice.   

“Oh - you mean after the concussion”.  You weren’t sure if William was embarrassed but he looked down towards the ice and ran his fingers through his luxurious blonde hair.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you winced “Yeah…I watched that game…” you trailed off, feeling really uncertain if you should say any more.  “I’m so sorry - that hit on you was brutal.” 

 “It didn’t feel good, that’s for sure; should’ve kept my head up” he quipped.  “But yeah, between that and my appendix almost bursting after that, I’m a lot better now”.  

You kicked yourself mentally, hoping you hadn’t created an awkward moment; you were never one to handle uncomfortable silences very well.   

In an attempt to recover, you look up at William with a smile.

 “Well, I’m so glad to hear you’ve recovered.  It looks like they’re almost ready…let’s get this rig rolling”, giving him a little wink and a slight nudge.

You turn to see that the crew has nearly finished setting up the lighting and Amanda is going through some details with the woman that will be hosting the segment.  You skate off to join Amanda and the host to see if you can get some intel of the questions being asked.

Amanda calls William over and she begins to direct you to where you’ll both need to stand so the lighting casts perfectly over your faces. 

A make-up artist appears, and begins to do some minor touch-ups to enhance your healthy glow, and applies a thin layer of gloss to your lips as an extra measure.

William watches as you raise your chin up and close your eyes, as brushes lightly graze over your features.  It’s unnerving for him to look at you; he’s convinced that you’re one of the most strikingly beautiful women that he's ever met. And he’d met plenty of women, or girls, depending. At the young age of 19, he’d already gotten a taste of the boy-band level of popularity with many females in Toronto, looking to catch the attention of an up and coming hockey star.  Add in all the girls he would meet during years of road trips, William never had to make an effort for girls to flock to him. Because of this, William found it difficult to establish a real connection beyond the overly available, yet casual, hook-ups which, most of the time, became complicated and messy. 

Filming quickly gets underway and the host introduces you both, giving a quick history about each of you.  

“OK Y/N - are you ready for the first question?” the host asks 

“Absolutely” you say, smiling.

“What are the two colours on the Swedish Flag?”

Relieved it’s an easy question, you quickly answer “Blue and Yellow”.  You position the puck just so and fire your shot, hitting the back of the net with ease.

William smiles and appears to be impressed as he raises an eyebrow and mouths the word “Wow”.

As the Swedish trivia challenge continued on, you managed to answer all of the remaining questions correctly, even blurting out the answer to the bonus question related to what type of government Sweden has (you’re not even sure how you knew the answer but nevertheless, you seemed to delight the onlookers).  Better yet, your shots on net were pretty solid and each puck hit the netting, coupled with an audible swoosh.

More and more, William was finding himself completely captivated by you.  Since he set his eyes on you, he sensed a massive contrast between you and the girls that he frequently came in contact with.  William’s mind began to race with questions about you; he needed to know more about you.  At the same time, and as self-assured as William normally was, the thought of asking a global celebrity for at least her number, had his stomach tied in knots.

William was up.  Everyone knew he was a sniper, so obviously scoring was not going to be an issue.  The questions related to Canada were generally the same as the Swedish ones, and William answered them with ease.

Each time you glanced at William, your heart started to race a little more.  You had made a snap judgement about his personality, based solely on his exterior, which completely backfired on you.    He proved to be warm and charming, with a smile that never seemed to leave his face.  You contemplated if you had ever met a man who smiled as much as William seemed to.  

The host’s voice brings you back down to earth.

“OK, William - in order to get to the bonus question, name three of your favourite Canadian music artists” the host asked, glancing over at you with a wink and a smile.

It seemed obvious enough that William would include you in the answer, since you were 8 feet away from him, but instead, he rhymed off Justin Bieber, Drake and The Weeknd.  He shot the puck and satisfied with his response, smiled at the host.

There was an odd silence as the onlookers seemed surprised that William appeared to snub you, on camera no less.  

William read the room and looked over at you with a confused look.  You smiled back at him and shrugged your shoulders.  

The host, trying to assess the situation, looking to find some humour in it, chuckles and says “Ok, I guess William’s not a fan of Y/N it seems” which was met with some low-key snickering from the crew.

“Wait - what?” William says, half laughing - his cheeks starting to burn.  His expression was mostly like a deer caught in the headlights.

You, sensing his embarrassment, said “It’s all good…” you giggled and looked at the host “Those would be my choices…I’m not necessarily everyone’s cup of tea” you say modestly.

William’s head swiftly turned in your direction.  His eyebrows lifted and his mouth dropped open as he realized his unintentional SNAFU.

The onlookers shook their heads and laughed; some came over and gave William some hearty pats on his shoulder, accompanied by some good natured ribbing.

You could see William trying to laugh it off but as he looked at you with a combined expression of awkwardness and unease, and your heart cracked a little for him.  

The host waves her hands and grabs everyone’s attention again.

“Alright, William, moving along - for the bonus question.  If you answer this correctly, then we’ll need a tie breaker between you and Y/N.  The question is a geography based one”.

William groaned and his face lowered into his gloved hands.  

The host continued, “How many territories are there in Canada?”

Someone in the group decided to quietly hum the Jeopardy theme song which was of no help to William.

William inhaled, squinted his face and apprehensively answered “2?”

“Ooooh - sorry William!  Soooo clooooose!” the host says in faux dismay.  “There’s actually 3”.

The host mercifully wraps up the segment declaring you the winner of the trivia challenge.  William taps his stick on the ice as recognition, and everyone begins to disperse.

William makes his way over to you; his dazzling eyes are fixed on your face, a wide, almost mischievous grin, spans his angelic visage.

“Are you sure you’re not Swedish?  I wasn’t sure I even knew all those answers” he joked.  

“So…who’s your next victim with these shoots?” William asks coyly.

“Whoa - really…victim?” you answer feigning shock with a side of a phoney ‘how dare you’.

“Aren’t you the one who slayed me during this little stint…snubbing me entirely” you laughed,  nudging William in the arm.  

William groans “You have no idea how badly I’m going to be chirped about this.  I really don't know what I was thinking.  Fuck it - I’ll blame on it on the concussion.” 

“Oh my gosh - honestly, it was really pretty funny. It wasn’t like you were saying I suck…unless that’s exactly what you were trying to say” you dead-panned, raising an eyebrow at him.  “We might have a problem then if that's the case,” you joked.

William laughs “Tell you what…I do really feel bad…do you maybe want to grab something to eat later on, if you’re not busy?”

Your heart leapt inside your chest into your throat. 

“I wish I could but I have plans with some old friends…I haven't seen them in ages so they’ll be pissed if I blow them off.  I’m here for another week or so - maybe we can swing another time?” you said, hopefully.

“For sure…here…” Williams grabs his phone from his pocket “Can you add your number?”

William hands you the phone and you start typing the digits of your number.  Under the contact name, you typed in "Can I be your #4?", saved it and handed the phone back to William.  Amanda calls out for you and William to get a picture together so William quickly jams his phone back into his pocket and drapes his arm around your shoulder.  You gently extended your arm around his waist thinking that seemed to be the only place on his body that made sense.  With that mere touch, externally you smiled for the camera, but internally, were acutely aware of the faint but noticeable throb between your legs that William’s mere touch seemed to incite.  "Keep it together Y/N, for fuck sakes" you joked to yourself.  

"It was so great to meet you William - it was a ton of fun" you laughed, taking your hand out of the hockey glove and extending it to William.

“Trivia isn’t really my thing but you definitely made it more interesting” William said as he extended his arms out for an embrace.  

You managed to pull the plug on the wild smut show that had already started in your brain, kept it light, and while hugging him, you patted his back gently and pulled away.

“See you, William,” you said grinning.

William wanted to come up with something clever, something extra but his brain just wasn’t engaging. Instead, he smiled bashfully and simply said “See you…I hope”.

Later on, in the parking lot, William sat in his car looking through his contacts, searching for your name.  His heart sank when he went to the first letter of your name and found nothing.  

He scrolled back to the top of his contacts, his thumb slowly grazing the glass to look at every single contact name he had.  “Shit - I need to get rid of some of these” he thought as he bypassed a myriad of girls' names from previous encounters.  

William laughs when he finally discovers the pseudonym you gave yourself and sits there for a moment, grinning like the Cheshire Cat; his chest fills up with a warm sensation unlike anything he’s ever experienced before.  

He arrived home to his downtown condo that he shared with his teammate, Kasperi.  

“Hey - how’d it go?  How was she?” Kappy asked, not looking up from the TV screen.

William grabbed water from the fridge and walked to the living room where Kasperi lounged on the couch, almost enveloped by the overstuffed cushions that were strewn about.  Immersed in Call of Duty, Kasperi only could mutter “Fuck” multiple times in a row.

“Good. She’s really nice actually” William said, not wanting to elaborate on his newly developed interest.  

“Is she as hot up close as she looks on screen?  That video she was in - you know….that song” Kasperi hums the tune of one of your more popular solo hits “she’s hardly wearing anything under a buttoned-down dress shirt and mmmm…she’s in stilettos” Kappy mused, eyes still fixed on the screen.

“Jesus, Kap - get a grip” William forced a chuckle, trying not to let his annoyance show.  

“You wanna play for a bit?” Kasperi asked, mumbling expletives as William declined.

“Gonna go for a nap - see you in a few”.  William disappears into his bedroom.  He flops onto the bed and rolls over, grabbing the pillow on the right side.  He lay there thinking of you; he can hardly believe it but he’s already dying to see you again.  He grabs his phone and Googles your name.  First, he pulls up images of you - everything from award ceremonies and galas to magazine covers.

William continues to scroll through the search results, pulling up a video that a fan made on YouTube.  It’s a video montage of you, at various events over the years.  The song “More than a Woman” by the BeeGees plays in the background; the music somehow further enhances every movement of your elegant figure and every detail of your radiant face. 

As you smile for the cameras.

As you laugh with your bandmates.

As you take the stage in front of thousands of fans.

Ugh.  As you looked at your (now ex-) boyfriend in the eyes while walking the red carpet, your arm looped through his.

That last one hurt.

William flipped his phone over and grabbed the pillow once again.  He closed his eyes, imagining the pillow was your body lying next to him, the first few moments of meeting you were on a continuous loop in his mind, until sleep finally found him.

****************************************************************

After the segment with William had wrapped, you headed to the dressing room to change out of your skates.

Evelyn breezes through the door after waving good-bye and saying thanks to the small entourage that escorted her to the dressing room.   

“That went well…” 

Evelyn’s British accent, and the way she enunciated her words, seemed to always sound sardonic, whether it was intentional or not.  You had learned that it was just best to stick with the facts throughout conversations with Evelyn; as your manager, you learned fast that she often wasn’t in the mood to hear about frilly musings other than in your songs.  

“Poor soul looked completely lost after he rhymed off every fucking Canadian singer, except you” she smirked.

“Jesus. he picked three of his favourite performers that he listens to, and they are all amazing,” you laughed.  “He’s not required to be a fan of mine,” you said as you nudged Evelyn’s arm. “He felt bad though - he asked me out to make up for it, so that was nice” you trailed off, your cheeks inadvertently blushing at the thought.

“So that’s why you gave him your number” Evelyn smiled.  “It’s nice to see you finally getting back on the horse”.  Evelyn reaches into her long Burberry coat, pulling out her phone to open a newly delivered text message.  “Play your cards right, you may get to ride him too.  You could use a good…” she said in a low tone, neither taking her eyes off the screen or bothering to finish her sentence.  

You scoffed, but it wasn’t like the thought hadn’t already entered your mind.

Amanda appeared at the door and invited you and Evelyn to head to the players lounge for a quick bite.   

On the way,  Amanda listed off which of the Maple Leafs would be taking part in the next segment.  All very familiar names to you and much to your delight, the players in question were waiting for you in the lounge.  

Tyler Bozak, Nazem Kadri, Morgan Rielly and Jake Gardiner stood gathered around the kitchen counter, deep in a spirited debate about popular wrestlers from the eighties.

Morgan appeared to be the bonafide WWE expert and was busy putting the rest to shame as he rhymed off some of the greats.

“Wasn’t there a female manager for….shit, who was it?” Kadri asked, snapping his fingers as he wracked his brain for the answer.  

“Fuck….what was her name….ah shit - I’m drawing a blank….” Morgan said, pressing the palm of his hand to his forehead.  “Fuck me, this is gonna drive me nuts now”.

The group snickered at him.

 “Some expert you are” Jake said, poking Morgan repeatedly in the ribs.

“Miss Elizabeth” you said with a smile as you approached the group.  “She was Macho Man Randy Savage’s manager”.

Morgan’s head swivelled around as he said “Awh - yeah!  Thank God….fuck - I just drew a total blank” Morgan said, apparent relief washing over him.  

Introductions weren’t needed with the 4 players as you had briefly met each of the men at a charity function the year before.  Each gave you a friendly hug as you all continued on with the lively conversation.   

“We had about 5 TV channels growing up, there wasn’t cable out in the country - we just had a TV antenna and a router” you laughed.  “I think it was the Hamilton channel that showed WWE reruns Saturdays at noon.  Sort of became a fan of the 80’s wrestlers, whether I wanted to be or not '' you joked.  “I always thought Miss Elizabeth was so beautiful…” you mused.

The men all made their own noises, nodding and affirming that Miss Elizabeth was indeed, well…hot.

Not long after, Amanda summoned you all to a common area of the lounge, where the next video segment was to take place.  You glanced over and could see Evelyn and Amanda, deep in conversation.  You usually wouldn’t notice or care what Evelyn was doing; you and your Manager had an incredible working relationship and you trusted her implicitly.  That was, until you had a sneaking suspicion that she, the host and Amanda were hatching some plan involving you for the next video. 

Before you could worry about it for too long, you and the 4 players were instructed to sit in the director-style chairs that had been lined up for you.

The host gives the directives of a game that is something between Truth or Dare and Never Have I Ever.  The questions that were directed at the players weren’t anything risqué, but were enough to cause a rumpus between the men, resulting in some hearty banter.   

Once the verbal melee ceased and everyone starts to settle again, the host turns toward you with a knowing smile.  

“We’ve left Y/N to last.  You may not know this but Y/N’s Maple Leaf fandom spans back to when she was just a small girl.  We’ve designed a very special Who’d You Rather between the Leafs past…. and present….players” she says drawing out each of the last few words emphatically.  “With Y/N being unattached currently, we decided this might be fun…” the host says teasingly. 

You shot a look at Evelyn, vowing to murder her later for this.

Evelyn smiles back at you, gesturing for you to hurry up and get this thing going.

On the monitor in front of you, a picture of Dion Phaneuf, the current Captain of the Leafs, appears next to a picture of former Captain Wendel Clark.  The players whooped and hollered at your choices and you audibly groaned, not knowing exactly how to navigate the choices.

“Oh my God - how am I supposed to choose? So what, this is who I’d like to date?  I actually know Dion - I’m friends with his wife too….” you trail off.  “Oh - but I love Wendel too” you giggle.

“Just so you all know” you say to the crowd, motioning towards your surroundings, “this…this whole situation has to be among my worst nightmares…” 

As the host cycles through a few more pictures, each of the 4 players giving their (unsolicited) input, albeit mockingly, as though they themselves were on a dating show.  

Your adoration for Felix Potvin was known to the crew, thanks to Evelyn, so naturally, Felix’s picture appears next to Morgan’s.  “Ooof, sorry Morgan…I have to go with my man, my precious Felix” you said, reaching over to tap Morgan’s knee.  

“Fine then…” Morgan deadpanned, with the slightest smirk.

One after the other, you choose Felix over the image that appears on the opposite slide.  

The host smiles and says “Devoted Potvin admirer, you have to love that!  If you had the chance to meet him, what would you say?” 

You were suddenly worried Felix would pop out of the woodwork, the look of excited anticipation mixed with worry crosses your face.  You jokingly peer over both of your shoulders and respond “Je veux dire ‘C'est un plaisir de vous rencontre.  Je suis tellement un grand fan de toi.  I don’t think I would be able to get out much more than that”, you laugh.

“Ok, this is the last image.  You just met this player this morning and managed to squeak past him to win in the trivia challenge” the host says, eyes fixed on your face.

William’s headshot from the Marlies appears on the screen, next to your first hockey love.  The 4 men sat next to you chime in playfully with a series of “ooooh….Willy Nylander…”

You stay composed looking at the picture, trying not to appear as flustered as you felt.  In one short meeting, William had actually made an impact on you.  Yes, you found him breathtakingly gorgeous, but it was far more than that.  There was a kindness about him; something about him seemed so refreshing and you found yourself really wanting a chance to talk with him more.

You try to suppress a smile but you end up with a wide grin and cheeks flushed.  This shouldn’t be a big deal - but admitting that you might like a boy sent your mind hurtling back to 9th grade, when you were meek and awkward and would sooner die than allow a boy to see that you might think he’s cute.

But, you decide to play it safe and bypass William’s picture, just willing for this segment to be over.  “I’m sticking with Felix,” you laugh.

“Felix it is!” the host says as she gives the appearance of cheering your choice.  

Once the production crew deems they can wrap the segment, you slide off your chair and mingle with the 4 players and others that had gathered around for a quick snack before packing up.

Evelyn saunters up to you and whispers “You beautiful, chinless wonder* - you should have picked the boy…”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head.  Secretly, you had chosen him in your mind; you couldn’t stop thinking about him.  ‘Fuck Y/N…you’re sunk’ is the only thought you had toying in your head.

“You can just keep your opinions to yourself,” you laughed toward Evelyn.  “Let’s just go, I gotta get ready for dinner soon”.

(*chinless wonder is apparently British slang for a coward)

[allylikethecat]

⋆˚࿔ october prompts 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Another day, another prompt. Thank you so much to anyone who has taken the time to read these. I really appreciate it 🩵

⁹⁾ the taste of honey from someone else’s lips

Matty sighed, skimming the shelves for the third time. Spending the afternoon at a local tea and honey shop wasn’t necessarily his idea of a good time. But George’s eyes had grown wide with excitement when they had passed by, and who was Matty to deny him the joy of looking at loose leaf tea and gourmet honey. It was a good excuse to get out of the cold, the fall air stinging Matty’s cheeks as the wind tore through his skinny body. He refused to admit he was cold though, George had told him to wear a warmer jacket and Matty had ignored him and only worn a hoodie. Now he was regretting it immensely. 

While he was happy to be out of the cold, Matty was bored. He just hadn’t realized that looking at loose leaf tea and gourmet honey was such a time consuming endeavor. He thought they were going to be in and out, that George would sniff a few tea canisters, that Matty would try a few honey samples, even though he didn’t really like honey, and then they would be on their way with George’s inevitable purchases. 

But now, George was deep in conversation with the girl working at the counter, both of them fluttering around the store in excitement, the girl pulling canisters off the shelves as George’s grin grew. But Matty was bored and missing George’s attention. He had tried all of the honey varieties twice and his sense of smell wasn’t very good from the previous years of cocaine abuse so all of the tea smelled the same to him. He needed one of those boyfriend enrichment areas he always saw on TikTok, the ones he usually scoffed at, offended even though he knew it was a joke, but it would be pretty handy at the moment. 

“What do you think?” George asked, and Matty turned away from the sourwood honey display card he was reading for the third time. He was of the firm opinion that it needed a better name, sourwood did not make the honey sound enticing in the slightest, especially one that was supposed to have a note of vanilla and cream soda, not that Matty understood how honey was supposed to have a tasting note of cream soda. 

“Of what?” Matty asked, he had been so absorbed in his boredom that he hadn’t even realized George had been speaking to him. 

“Of the honey?” George asked. 

“What about it?” Matty asked, not following, it was honey, George knew he wasn’t the biggest fan. 

“Which honey tastes the best?” George asked, raising an eyebrow like he thought Matty was being difficult on purpose. 

“I think the taste of honey from someone else’s lips is the best,” said Matty smugly. The girl that had been helping George giggled, amused by his antics while George just rolled his eyes. 

“I should have known better than to ask you,” he said with a sigh and Matty just shrugged. 

“Can we get hot chocolate after this?” 

Day: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 |

[gojonanami]

lovely, lovely, lovely sab,

first of all, thank you, thank you, thank you for allowing us to read your brilliant stories. i feel so lucky that i can go on my phone, open up tumblr, and be faced with the realization that i can read and reread your stories again and again, and find comfort in that.

secondly, sab, thank you so very much for writing your professor geto suguru series. i really, really, really enjoyed the process of how this series came to be!! each chapter was absolutely brilliant, and i loved the process of rereading chapters while anticipating new ones!! and i am so impressed by the way in which you managed to tackle such a difficult feat of writing such a long stories!! on top of that, all of the discussions which were had on this blog were super, super fun and enjoyable!! they were really something that i looked forward to after finishing my work, and they really did make me smile.

now, sab, i also enjoyed a lot of your other stories!! your fic where suguru consumes an aphrodisiac curse is super, super fun!! i love the moment when he first consumes the curse, and there is a moment of confusion where his thoughts take over, and he imagines what he wants... just the way his thoughts are tracked by the text is super cool.

Even under the water, he felt like his body was burning — a slow fire that lingered under the surface of his skin, burning and aching, the frigid water barely doing enough to soothe it. Running his hands over his body seemingly helped, a shiver running down his spine as he washed himself, but he knew it would have felt even better if it was you.  ….what? He tried to shake that thought from his head — it wasn’t the first time he had thought of you like this. There were many times where his mind would drift to you at night, the warmth of your touch from a few hours ago still lingered, as his hard-on pleaded for his touch. Guilty gnawed at his conscious when he indulged, the first time being after a particularly vivid dream of you pinning him down while training — your mouth kissing down his body, eager fingers tugging at his shorts until that smirk met— This wasn’t helping.1

i thought that this fic was really very fun, very sexy and also very memorable! i really did enjoy it and i often find myself thinking about it months after i'd read it. it was really super fun reading it! truly! and i just thought that the way it progressed was so smooth and so gripping, and very, very sexy.

but i also enjoyed a lot of your other stuff, too!! one of your stories that i keep thinking about is your story about satoru and grief. it's short, it's one that i think has too little notes, but one i'm very fond of. the way he responds with positivity and strength in the face of utter (inevitable?) heartbreak is so satoru.2

i also really enjoyed your nanami fics!! i must confess, although i really enjoy nanami kento as a character, he's not really a character i find myself... attracted to. i'm not sure why. i can understand and appreciate that he's an attractive man and has very good qualities, and that he's a green flag, but for some reason, i just... i can acknowledge and understand why others find him attractive, but i don't necessarily find myself attracted to him. while that was a little tangent, and i'm sorry for that, i just put this all in to say that despite all that, i adore your nanami stuff!! especially, especially, especially 'five times nanami wanted to propose but didn't' because it's just so deliciously sad.3

there are so, so, so many other stories of yours that i could have mentioned, too. like, 'would it be enough if i could never give you peace?' i adore the ending of that fic. suguru keeping the cards feels so utterly heartbreaking and gut-wrenching.4

i also adore hearing your thoughts and ideas regarding fics that you're thinking of writing. curse suguru? frat boy suguru? guitarist suguru? post-kenjaku suguru? househusband satoru? (and nanami... and suguru...) mindreader nanami?? outlaw suguru?? and so, so, so, so many others!!

i think i'm especially lucky in that i have found a writer whose work i really enjoy and i am lucky in that i get to read your stuff so often. but i hope you do know that you're not obligated to update all the time, right?? we know that you have a busy, demanding but an awesome job that requires you to use up a lot of energy. we know that you want to spend time with your family, your sister and your nephews, and your friends. and honestly? currently, i'd much rather you go out into the sunlight, bathe in the sun, dip your feet in the toes, than feel guilty about not putting out a story on tumblr because you don't feel like it. i'd love to read your stories, sure, but i'd prefer to see you in a happy mood, eating delicious ice cream and playing with some cute dogs with a big smile on your face.

sending the very best wishes your way xx

 gojonanami. tumblr post. february 3, 2024. https://www.tumblr.com/gojonanami/741261455786147840/%F0%9D%90%88-%F0%9D%90%89%F0%9D%90%94%F0%9D%90%92%F0%9D%90%93-%F0%9D%90%96%F0%9D%90%80%F0%9D%90%8D%F0%9D%90%93-%F0%9D%90%93%F0%9D%90%8E-%F0%9D%90%85%F0%9D%90%94%F0%9D%90%82%F0%9D%90%8A-%F0%9D%90%80%F0%9D%90%8B%F0%9D%90%8B-%F0%9D%90%8D%F0%9D%90%88%F0%9D%90%86%F0%9D%90%87%F0%9D%90%93?source=share.

gojonanami. tumblr post. september 21, 2023. https://www.tumblr.com/gojonanami/729035915211702272/bigger-than-the-whole-sky-satoru-gojo-summary?source=share.

gojonanami. tumblr post. november 11, 2023. https://www.tumblr.com/gojonanami/733656338931023872/five-times-nanami-wanted-to-propose-but-didnt?source=share.

gojonanami. tumblr post. february 4, 2024. https://www.tumblr.com/gojonanami/741365183814975488/%F0%9D%90%96%F0%9D%90%8E%F0%9D%90%94%F0%9D%90%8B%F0%9D%90%83-%F0%9D%90%88%F0%9D%90%93-%F0%9D%90%81%F0%9D%90%84-%F0%9D%90%84%F0%9D%90%8D%F0%9D%90%8E%F0%9D%90%94%F0%9D%90%86%F0%9D%90%87-%F0%9D%90%88%F0%9D%90%85-%F0%9D%90%88-%F0%9D%90%82%F0%9D%90%8E%F0%9D%90%94%F0%9D%90%8B%F0%9D%90%83-%F0%9D%90%8D%F0%9D%90%84%F0%9D%90%95%F0%9D%90%84%F0%9D%90%91-%F0%9D%90%86%F0%9D%90%88%F0%9D%90%95%F0%9D%90%84-%F0%9D%90%98%F0%9D%90%8E%F0%9D%90%94?source=share.

bb this ask has been sitting in my box because I keep rereading it and it literally makes me so so happy.

I feel so lucky all of you are here and look forward to reading my work at all!! prof Geto was such a special experience and has been such a wonderful series to write that it makes me long recreate that experience with another series 🥹💕 you guys were the reason I truly was able to write that series and it means so so much to me.

ahh the aphrodisiac geto fic is def one of my fav things I’ve written on here. I was very inspired when writing that fic and it’s one of those fics that was really easy for me to frame and set up.

I always love writing about grief and loss and I know those fics will never do as well but I love writing them anyway. I’m so glad you enjoy my nanami fics 🥹💕 I feel like he’s a character that’s difficult for me to nail down. I totally understand getting why someone is attractive but not being attracted to them haha

you are absolutely the sweetest 😭🥹 I’m so glad you look forward to the fic ideas I do plan to write!! I promise I’m gonna do it. I love you — and thank you for the much needed reminder haha. I am trying to focus on real life more then fiction but I’m still writing while I’m at it :).

wishing you the absolute best because you truly deserve the entire world for being such a wonderful and sweet person 🥹💕

[humanitiesgonedigital]

#7: The Importance of Transcription

As a student taking on a project with a lot of transcribing involved (those Mayan glyphs weren’t deciphered by themselves!), it was extremely important to me that I tackled the mission of transcribing a few pages from the National Archives. Transcribing itself can be arduous and time-consuming, so I kind of just went for something random in order to get the brunt of how it would turn out for me in the longrun.

In order to understand how transcribing worked for Citizen Archivists on the website, I ended up scrolling through a few different projects and just looking at what others had transcribed. I ended up taking on a few pages from the unit file on the USS Jeannette which was largely transcribed, but not completely. I wasn’t necessarily interested in the content itself, but was more interested in how a transcription would look like when describing the columns and rows, and how long it would take for me to type it all out after finally understanding what the cursive was actually saying.

And, it should be said somewhere that transcribing anything in cursive will obviously be more difficult that transcribing something already in textual format or in non-cursive, especially since cursive has changed so much over time (and even been eliminated from being taught in gradeschool for the most part at present). Since this unit file had largely been transcribed by others though, and since most of the logbook reiterated much of the same or similar information, it was easy to go back and compare what I was seeing or not seeing to what others had transcribed. If the project were largely unfinished, however, I could definitely see a lot more struggle in deciphering what was being written on the page.

This made it all the more apparent to me how valuable transcribers are, especially ones that volunteer to do so in their own time. The thought that goes behind transcribing something, especially if it can be difficult for you to decipher or it doesn’t interest you, can seem like a chore. I found myself more and more curious as to the others who were transcribing the pages and what interest or commitment they had that made them want to transcribe government logbooks and other files in the first place, and I ended up feeling a larger sense of respect and gratefulness for the other people that put such time and effort into doing so.

It also opened my eyes up to how beneficial having transcriptions actually are. Not only are they more accessible, but not everyone is going to know what something is saying if it’s written in a different language or format. So as I go forward, I’ll definitely be adding a function on my website that offers anyone to transcribe from what I gather together, but I’ll try my best to transcribe what I can in my own time and really delve into different ways of making those transcriptions more easily accessible so that everyone can see what’s being archived and analyzed in my project. Maybe someone else will be able to create their own project after being able to see what a Maya stelae says!

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[godstrayed]

It’s more difficult than he imagines. Pretending to not care or think about this new thing that is between Steve and him—it’s impossible because there was some invisible string attaching them and always wound. Even if that something was nearly nothing with all the damage Billy has done. But he keeps his fucking word because by not letting it go he was doing even more damage and prolonging their suffering. And it is suffering despite what Billy might spout because denying someone he was meant to embrace and accept… Well, there was no real way to explain how disconnected that felt. It felt wrong in a way that surprises Billy but makes sense as well.

People typically didn’t walk away from their soulmates because everything about it was meant for them to be together. Platonic, romantic, or otherwise something else entirely. They were just meant to be. Something in the universe that decided that two people were compatible in some fashion and shared the same destiny. Billy would say it’s all bogus but a part of him held onto the bitter belief that it had to be true even if it wasn’t necessarily true for Steve and him.

It never occurs to Billy it might be too late from the moment of their fight, their first touch, that it would be next to impossible to turn Steve out of his mind, soul, heart.

He has more than enough time on his own to stew in it all. It festers and rots in his chest, anger so familiar and consuming; because he knows if it had been under any other circumstances he might have considered it. But it was all but a death wish for Billy to accept a guy as his soulmate. He could give two fucks what anyone thought but he didn’t have the luxury of that being extended to Neil. It was already hard enough to live under his household and it wasn’t for the lack of trying.

It does occur to Billy he could do everything right and it was never going to be enough. Never going to excuse him from all the shit he had to deal with. He was an altar for his father’s rage and Billy had taken to his castoff, secondhand fury. How was he supposed to consider someone else as a part of his whole when he’s stuck trying to just survive? From the moment the colors are too bright he already knows there is no hope in the situation. 

Don’t make it his problem ‘cause he cannot afford any more problems.

Staying away is rough but he does it like he says he would. It’s a bit easier when he’s so tied up in his own life he doesn’t have much free thought to give Steve. A new bruise there, a busted lip there, a fucking mural of blues/purples/blacks dotted along the spots that his clothes cover. All for bullshit reasons. It’s easy to stomach not having a soulmate ‘cause what kind of soulmate would he make? It’s easy to stomach ‘cause there were greater pains out there than denying something or someone. A greater pain in being denied by a parent, where it’s supposed to be unconditional—resented and loathed for his mere existence before a time he could have done anything to warrant it—a more tragic pain in having a parent he loved who had decided to leave him behind in the mayhem knowing it was sacrificial. 

He’s so tired of it by the time he’s anywhere but home he can just lash out. He can bite harder, punch lower, say the worst shit possible. He can protect himself. And he can take whatever the outside world tosses at him. Except maybe Steve.

Billy can ignore Steve until he cannot. It all happens one evening when Susan and Neil leave town. Billy is given responsibility of Max for the weekend. However, Max is off to spend the night with another girl who looks a little too serious and solemn any time Billy has seen her which admittedly isn’t a lot. There was no harm done and it meant he could be free to do whatever he wants.

He had intended on going to a party to drink his woes away. No kid sister to take care of, no apathetic step-mom who was a real piece of work, and no Neil to fuck up his night. However, the real shit was the wave of feelings that knocked into him so unexpectedly.

Fear, it’s really hard to swim through because it’s so damn palpable. Fear, panic, feeling like he was dying… It's an upcurrent stream Billy cannot tread water through. ‘Cause he’s almost certain something is seriously wrong. A wave of flashed hot white pain makes him reconsider just trying to paddle through the feelings and ignoring it. If Steve was in trouble surely he would be able to get it. It’s apparent those feelings aren’t his own since he had been minding his own fucking business about to leave for a night of drinking when he’s hunched over trying to even out his own breathing… Steve was alright, wasn’t he? 

That nagging feeling of if he wasn’t and Billy tries to play it off as a mere inconvenience. If he checks on Steve to ensure he wasn’t dead or dying he can ensure he doesn’t have to deal with the repercussions of that. It was nothing else.

He knows where Steve lives because everyone knows where Steve lives. The house is massive and nice and out of the fucking way but that was besides the point when he kills the engine of his car a little down the street no real fear it would be seen ‘cause Neil wasn’t in town and he had probably even less friends than Billy did. Who was gonna tell him if Billy didn’t? He just didn’t want to draw the attention of the neighbors if he woke them by pulling into the driveway or happened to peek out their damn windows.

He hadn’t really thought this entirely through. It’s mostly to ease his worry ‘cause the feelin’ is so out of place and gnawing at him, chewing away at franticness of his mind—okay, okay, okay damn it. He was just making sure, covering his damn bases, and then fucking leaving to drink so much he wouldn’t even know his own name.

Billy gets out of his car and heads up to the house. His own home looks like a shack in comparison. He leans a little into the connection wondering if he could figure it out by whatever Steve was feeling a bit uneasy because he hadn’t really felt anything up until that moment which brings about the urgency. Steve was a void of emotions. Nothing was readable and nothing had been detectable before that night. Like everything he felt was swallowable and he had just gulped it all down - or maybe he just didn’t have anything to feel.

He walks right up to the door and rings the doorbell not once, not twice, and not even three times. He just rings it insistently waiting impatiently  ‘cause if he had to break in finding out Steve had fallen down steps or something equally annoying he was going to be furious. Ring, ring, ring, ring- the motherfucker sure was taking his time getting to the door. He, at least, knew he was most likely conscious ‘cause if he wasn’t would Billy be able to feel his panic? 

ㅤIf Steve couldn't wish away all of his headaches, then Billy sure as hell didn't get to wish any away - least of all Steve himself. It was fitting that they both managed to be such a headache for each other, considering they were supposed to be a balm for each other instead and they were railing so hard against all of that; naturally, it would be uncomfortable instead. Steve was just glad that when Billy grabbed him, he grabbed at his backpack, so he didn't have to get that rush of brightened color or deal with it lingering afterward, like it was teasing at the world he could have had, if only the universe was kinder in who it tied him to. They'd made that mistake once since the fight in the Byers' and the argument afterward, and he wasn't keen to deal with it again.

ㅤHe'd had time to think on all of it since then, not that he'd really wanted to; Hargrove had been painfully clear about how he felt about it all, so there wasn't a future there. Still, the universe had seen fit to bind him to another guy as a soulmate, and that... hadn't actually been something he'd considered before. He liked girls, he knew that for a fact, so the idea that he could appreciate guys on any level beyond an aesthetic understanding that one (Hargrove, Billy fucking Hargrove specifically) was hot hadn't really struck him. It hadn't helped that Hargrove himself hadn't left him alone and actively picked on him incessantly instead, so they hadn't even made friends enough for him to appreciate his company. Maybe he would have wondered more sooner, if that had happened. Now, he wondered because it had been slammed into his face, and the revelation didn't even matter because Hargrove didn't want him.

ㅤThat was the important part, the part to hang onto: Billy didn't want him.

ㅤJust like his parents didn't care, like Nancy didn't care - Billy didn't care, either, it was bullshit, it was nothing. He had to watch his back because Billy didn't like feeling that bullshit. His lips drew back in an almost snarl at the nerve of him, but Billy had let go and he stepped back. "Yeah, don't worry, I'll do my best to make sure you don't have to feel anything, dickhead," he snapped, and he was off. His car wasn't far and Hargrove was headed back to the school.

ㅤHe hadn't been kidding, either. It was a few more weeks of dancing around each other, Steve finally able to ignore and properly dismiss Hargrove's presence as he sild back into the social scene. Whatever had been eating him up, he'd locked down, hidden away deep where nobody else could see or feel it. He still felt Billy's shit because Billy Hargrove was apparently unable to keep any of his outbursts from being everyone else's problems (though Steve knew that wasn't true, if he let himself think about it at all), but his own emotions were shut down tightly - the only thing he offered up was calm, cool and detached.

ㅤIt was honestly safest that way, both for him and apparently for Billy. He did have concerns about the other, given some of what he felt that way, and he sometimes thought about reaching out or trying to help. Those thoughts were always squashed pretty fast because he didn't need to deal with Hargrove flipping out on him again, but sometimes he worried. It was hard not to, now that this tie between them had been opened up, especially once the sting of the whole situation had a little time to fade out a little. He had to keep reminding himself what a dick Billy was, how the apathy was really for his own sake. It wasn't like Billy cared about him at all.

ㅤIt was harder to keep his shit together when the nightmares came, but the calm that he'd been using to keep his shit in check for Billy's sake was becoming more practiced little by little, so clamping it down as he woke up like he could shove himself away from the other half of him, was also getting a little easier. That was what made it so much more devastating when it failed him.

ㅤThere was nothing about that night that gave him any _obvious_ signs that it was going to be rough. There was some lightning off in the distance, but no actual storm ever arrived, so all he caught were the flashes and rumblings through the window and house. It passed without incident, he watched some TV and went upstairs to bed, cursing softly and going still when he flicked the hall light on and it instantly blew the bulb. It made sense that it needed to be replaced, since he'd had it on anytime he might have to walk through that hall since the night in the tunnels, but he wasn't dealing with it right then. He told himself it was fine, just a lightbulb, and went to bed.

ㅤIt was still just a lightbulb and the hallway was definitely not the tunnels, just like the outside wasn't the Upside Down and he really had nothing to worry about, but that didn't actually matter.

ㅤSteve woke screaming, drenched in sweat with the sound of thunder rumbling through the walls of the tunnels following him to his dark room. He flailed, smacking at vines that were only in his memories and tangled in sheets that he was sure were trying to drag him down. The cold dampness of the tunnels pressed in against his skin, mud sticking to him, clinging, slime from the vines and something shattered beside him. The sound broke him free only a little, because there was nothing to shatter in the tunnels, but what the hell would have broken in the house like that? A window?

ㅤHe shot out of bed and realized instantly that it was not, in fact, a window. It was the glass on his nightstand, which had smashed into the wood of the furniture when he'd hit it and then scattered glass and water onto the floor for him to step on. He hissed, startled and hopping back onto the bed to grab at his foot, and only then realized the mistake. Billy wasn't even a thought in the back of his mind, so shielding from him wasn't, either, for the first time since they'd last argued.

[sokkastyles]

We all know that Zuko temporarily loses his firebending after joining the gaang because of losing the rage that had previously fueled him, but it’s interesting if you consider the question of what fueled Zuko’s bending before a time when he was consumed with rage. In the flashbacks we see of him as a younger child, we see a Zuko who is much more innocent and kind-hearted. We also see him struggle with bending. I don’t think this means that bending fueled by anger is necessarily stronger, but rather that Zuko’s rage-fueled bending was something he developed as a result of struggling to do it any other way, which is probably why it became a crutch. This is actually a really good analogy for how trauma can alter someone’s development to the point that it can be extremely difficult to live without the coping mechanisms formed by it, which is one reason why healing is so hard.

It means a lot that Zuko chooses to try and unlearn those toxic coping mechanisms where he could have fallen back into what he knows, could have decided that it was more important to be powerful than to be healthy, or that helping the Avatar just wasn’t worth it, especially when it seems like he’s useless to the Avatar the way he is. But instead he wants to try another way, even if it’s hard and subjects him to ridicule from the others. This is an important point since I think his anger developed as a defense mechanism against those feelings of worthlessness conditioned in him by Ozai. He doesn’t just have to learn to let go of anger but to let go of his fear of potential rejection, whether it be from Ozai or his new allies.

[recurring-polynya]

I remember you making a post about Momo's theoretical sickass lava bankai - what if she achieved it in the middle of the ryouka invasion clusterfuck?

Oh, the old Momo’s bankai post? The same post where I said that getting bankai was not necessarily a sign of being a good person or a moral person and it certainly wasn’t a sign of being a mentally healthy person? That it was really just a sign of being driven to single-minded extremes? That post?

I was outside gardening when I got the notification for this ask, and I failed my critical reading check on the second part of it, and somehow got “Fake Karakura Town clusterfuck” instead of “ryouka invastion clusterfuck” and by the time I read it more carefully, I was already too in love with the idea that I had come up with, but I know what you like and I think you will like this.

Did Polynya stay between 500 and 1000 words?: 1668 

| ao3 | ff.net |

🔥      🔥      🔥

“Captain Aizen?” asked Gin. “Is everything all right?”

Aizen narrowed his eyes. “Something is coming through.”

Like nearly all of Yamamoto’s techniques, Joukaku Enjou was a manifestation of elemental fire magic. Elemental magic was difficult to control for anyone who didn’t specialize in it; countering it relied on tapping into the underlying kidou that controlled the spell. Joukaku Enjou didn’t have any underlying magical control structures, though, it was simply a giant sphere of horrifically hot flames that burned until it got tired of burning. Yamamoto himself could even be killed and it would continue on.

So, when Aizen felt a strange presence making its way through the bulwark of flames, he assumed it was the doing of the Captain-Commander himself. Aizen knew an illusion when he saw one, and this was definitely something physical. It was a cold spot within the fire-- not actually cold, mind you, just less hot, and yet it seemed to be traversing the barrier with only minor difficulty, the way one might wade through thigh-deep water. It had its own reiatsu--heavily muffled by the smothering magical static of Ryuujin Jakka, but familiar enough.

Tousen’s hand drifted to his sword hilt, Gin rocked on his heels. Perhaps they were trying to signal their readiness, their allegiance to him, but it honestly just came off as cowardice. To be fair, sometimes cowardice was a good thing to see in a subordinate.

“Attempting some sort of high-concept appeal is new for Yamamoto,” Aizen sighed boredly. “Hopefully it will at least be amusing in its feebleness.”

But when the small figure, the crude form of a woman shaped from molten rock, emerged into the clearing, as the flames wreathing its form fizzled down to glowing coals, it became clear that this was not some sort of construct, not some sort of simulacrum designed to elicit sympathies for a woman Aizen had never seen as anything more than an amusing plaything.

“Kill her,” Aizen demanded.

Gin was faster, of course, but Tousen was hardly far behind.

“Oh,” said the lava thing in the voice of Hinamori Momo, as she looked down to see her midsection skewered from two directions. “Well, that’s convenient. I was wondering how I was going to get you to touch me with your sword, Captain Tousen.”

And then, faster than he would have expected, streams of magma erupted from her, engulfing both zanpakutou, curling in great waves around his subordinates and cooling nearly instantaneously into rock.

“You didn’t even go to shikai, though,” Momo sighed, because it was Momo, but a Momo extrapolated to some impossible endstate, a Momo who had somehow found her own power, despite the years Aizen had spent chipping away at the foundations of her psyche. “I had to go to all the trouble of talking to Captain Zaraki to find out how he beat you, and I didn’t even need to! I wasn’t expecting such close conditions, although I suppose I shouldn’t complain about something that went so heavily to my advantage.”

Aizen’s eyes darted from Tousen to Gin and back again, as the rock consumed their faces, leaving only their eyes and noses exposed.

“I should kill you both, for what you’ve done to Captain Aizen,” Hinamori tried to growl, sounding no more threatening than a nursery school teacher. “But I’m not like you. You’ll just have to face justice back in Soul Society.”

Aizen’s mind worked frantically. This was unexpected, but not insurmountable. Momo had…was this her bankai? It had to be, her reiatsu was far beyond what he ever dreamed she was capable of. Fortunately, her brain capacity seemed to be at its usual dismal levels.

“Lieutenant Hinamori!” he gasped. “Oh, you’ve come for me! I knew that no one would believe--”

“I’m sorry if you’re talking to me right now, Captain,” Hinamori interrupted. “Or if I’m talking too loud. I’ve sabotaged all my sensory organs, you see. I know you aren’t yourself right now, and I couldn’t run the risk of you using Kyouka Suigetsu on me. I don’t know if Total Hypnosis extends into the infrared, but I am betting that my perception in that realm exceeds your ability to convincingly manipulate it.”

Aizen grabbed for his sword, when scorching heat blossomed in his chest at the base of his sternum.

“Oh, wonderful, it did work!” Momo exclaimed.

“Bakudo 81! Dankuu!” Aizen wheezed out, the translucent ward snapping into place in front of him.

“Sorry, Captain! Dankuu works by creating a thin vacuum field which disrupts the casting line of most kidou spells. But you see, my power is radiative in nature, it works just fine through a vacuum.”

“Hrnnngh,” Aizen managed as he doubled over in pain, scrabbling at the skin of his mid-section. He was dimly aware of Momo moving toward him with the graceful and yet entirely unnatural locomotion of a bunraku puppet. “I can heat any sort of rock up to and over its melting point,” Momo explained, although Aizen was hardly in the mood to pay attention. “I knew the Hougyoku was crystalline in structure, but I wasn’t sure I would be able to affect it.”

“No…” Aizen grunted. “A simple being like you would never be able to destroy it.”

Momo laughed, a pretty, silvery sound. “Oh, Captain Aizen, even though I can’t hear you, I bet I can guess what you just said! ‘An ordinary person, even in bankai, couldn’t destroy the Hougyoku.’ I can see your surprise through your changes in body temperature, you know. I can see how impressed you are with me right now, but I can’t help it, I just have to ruin the magic and tell you my clever little trick! I’m not going to destroy the Hougyoku, I’m just trying to get it out of you so you can think clearly again. You’re right, of course, it wouldn’t let me do this if I intended to destroy it, but it doesn’t mind being burned out of a host. You had planned to burn it out Ms. Kuchiki with the Soukyoku. Renji told me so. It’s bad, Captain, can’t you see? It makes you do horrible things! I’m sure that killing the Central 46 was Captain Ichimaru’s doing, but you tried to kill Miss Kuchiki. You tried to kill Renji, too, and that poor ryouka boy. I forgive you for trying to kill me, because that’s how I knew you were being controlled. My captain would never hurt me. And that’s how I was able to dig down deep into myself and find my bankai. I mean…Renji got bankai. I can do anything Renji can do. At first they were watching me very closely, but you were the one who taught me to tell when I’m being observed, how to be so boring that your watchers lose interest in you. I’ll tell you all about it later, when this is all over.”

She crouched next to him, heat pouring off of her, the sharp smell of hot metal filling his nose.

“I’ve been trying to forgive you for pretending to be dead and scaring me, but that’s been a little harder. I’m sure I’ll be able to eventually, although…well an apology couldn’t hurt.”

The pain was blinding, overwhelming. His vision was beginning to blacken around the edges. Even if he could bring to mind any kidou that could defend against this, there was no way he could cast it in this state. Desperately, he reached out to the Hougyoku itself. I know you have begun to awake! he begged. I am the one who will bring you the greatest glory! You must come to my aid!

The Hougoku remained silent.

“Don’t worry, Captain! I’ve thought all of this out! By heating the Hougyoku directly it will burn away the minimum amount of your flesh necessary to loosen itself. I promise I will heal you up promptly as soon as it’s free!”

Things went a bit black after that, and when he came to again, there was something hard and heavy covering the lower part of his face, and he couldn’t move his hands or feet.

Momo was leaning over him. For the first time, he was able to get a good look at her. Her face was off-putting, too stiff, too constructed, like a Noh mask. Maybe he hadn’t noticed before, or maybe she had just grown them, but a trio of prongs protruded from her head, likes horns or, perhaps a crown. Two more sprouted from each shoulder. Seven, of course, a seven-branched sword. Her body was mostly black, with shifting veins of violet and ruby beneath her gently drifting tectonic plates. Maybe it had been reflections from Yamamoto’s flames earlier, but he had sworn that she had been more…reddish orange…before…

“Oh, good, you’re awake now!” She sighed. “I’m sorry Captain, but I wasn’t able to plan for everything. I thought that if I held myself to a high enough internal temperature, I could make an internal pocket of atomized air that could safely hold the Hougyoku. You know. Without it trying to merge with me.”

Aizen tried to grab at his chest, at the place where the Hougyoku had nestled inside him, a star, gently dreaming. But he couldn’t move his arms. A finger of rock held his tongue to the floor of his mouth, cuffs of it bound the kidou vents in his wrists, pins of it stabbed the pressure points in his back that paralyzed his soul chain.

“I think it will be okay, though,” Momo went on, whether to reassure him or herself was unclear. “The Hougyoku seems very happy. I don’t have a heart in this form, so it has nothing to compete with. It says it’s going to grant my greatest wish. But my greatest wish, Captain Aizen, is just for you to come home again, safe and sound and for everyone to understand that none of this was your fault! So don’t you worry about anything, Captain. I’ll take care of it all.”

[bennettzone]

paint me in trust | bennett x reader

chapters ⇒ CH 1 | CH. 2 | CH. 3

word count: 2.9k

genre(s): fluff, friends to lovers

✎ synopsis:  it all started with an encounter between you and bennett in dragonspine, which lead to an adventure where you are faced with many different situations.

✎ a/n: first fic on here!! this is something I published on a03 a while back, I figured I’d put it here too to get back on my writing feet lol. This chapter uses details from the commission 'floral fresh.' (the follow-up commission 'fresh flora' will also be used in a later chapter.) the work title, as well as chapter titles, are taken from human by dodie. I hope that you enjoy!!

Chapter 1: lean for me, and i’ll fall back

Flowers don't stay fresh for long. Flora, the owner of the Floral Whisper, has been thinking of ways to preserve them better...

This all started a few hours ago. A trip to Dragonspine that you didn’t expect to take.

Had you known how difficult this would have ended up being, you would’ve done this much, much earlier.

Your commissions for the day seemed simple enough. Clearing out some hilichurl camps, running an easy errand for Sarah...And finally, a task from Flora. You usually saved the easier-sounding ones for last, that way you could make the most of the daylight.

Little did you know, you skimmed over the most important part of Flora’s commission...That it would be taking you to Dragonspine. Not like you hadn’t been there before, doing much more difficult things, but...This one involved a lot more running around.

Usually, these kinds of tasks would be impossible. They weren’t handed out to many people in the Adventurers’ Guild. It was those who proved to be very strong and experienced, even more common for those who had visions.

You just so happened to be very strong and experienced...And also had a vision of your own. It wasn’t very useful in Dragonspine though, as it was a hydro vision. Perhaps one of the worst-suited for Dragonspine, both assumed and proven. You had become very skilled at using your polearm though, so even if you were fighting in Dragonspine it was uncommon for you to have to rely completely on your vision for those commissions.

Even with that being said, you preferred to have someone tag along with you, just in case things went south. Not that you didn’t trust yourself, you were simply always advised to do so and trusted the word of those who were far more experienced than you.

This time, however, your lack of being able to carefully read the details of the commission led to a staggering realization: You wouldn’t have time to ask anybody to come with you, so you were on your own for this. It was either that, or you give up on the task. You weren’t one for backing down from a challenge, though.

The only good part was that you didn’t necessarily have to be in a situation that involved combat.

Flora’s task seemed simple enough. She was looking for easier ways to preserve her flowers, meaning that she wanted to test how they handled being in Dragonspine. She requested they be placed in three different areas: Near the Dragonspine Statue of The Seven, next to a body of water, and one near the cavern.

Simply put, this would be more time-consuming than challenging.

You had an idea of finding your way around Dragonspine, so finding places to warm up wouldn’t be an issue. The only challenges you’d be facing were potential threats, and you could fight if you needed to. Best to avoid it though, that’s what you thought. You didn’t have time to waste since you took a while before taking on the commission.

You still had a few hours of daylight...That’s what you were banking on. Getting there quickly, placing the flowers quickly, and getting the heck out of there.

At least...That’s what the plan was supposed to be.

That brings you here, sitting next to a lit fire observing the final area you needed to place flowers; near the cavern.

You just so happened to notice someone was already there, although...They weren’t exactly considered an enemy threat.

You recognized him, a fellow member of the Adventurers’ Guild; Bennett. You hadn’t spoken to him much before...Apart from a few passings, and the occasional small chat while running into each other before getting your daily commissions.

You had heard a lot about him though, he’d been raised by the older guild members since he was a baby and you’d known of him ever since you joined a couple of years back, he was actually one of the first few people to introduce themself to you. Not to mention, many of the guild members spoke of horrendous luck that followed him everywhere. This resulted in a lot of what they’d call failures of adventures.

Perhaps that bad luck they spoke of is what got him in the situation you saw him in.

A group of hilichurls was bombarding him, and it almost physically hurt to watch. He was getting knocked around so badly, nearly getting hit full force by an axe-wielding mitachurl and constantly dodging shots from the regular hilichurls...you felt as if you had to step in to help.

You really didn’t want to fight today, much less run into someone, but...He really looked like he needed some help, and who else if not you? People rarely come around this part of Dragonspine…

Your heart ended up deciding for you regardless, and you found yourself charging toward the situation.

Everything felt like it went in slow motion. Your heart always pounded whenever you fought. No matter the severity of the situation or strength of the enemy...It was always exciting. It was treated as a fight for your life, every single time. Even the weakest enemies can catch you off guard, you grew up with that knowledge and carried that thought through every single battle you got yourself into.

You saw three hilichurls lined up, and took an opportunity to strike. You stabbed at them, quickly maneuvering yourself around them and taking them all out in swift movements. It shouldn’t have seemed as easy as it did, yet your adrenaline was rushing so much that maybe you got some sort of superhuman strength that was carrying you through this dilemma.

You couldn’t yet feel the cold that was biting at your skin, hitting your face in icy breezes, or your frigid fingers that were numbing as you kept your grip firm on your polearm.

Bennett didn’t even have time to comprehend your entrance, as he was occupied with perhaps the most threatening enemy there: the mitachurl furiously swinging its axe at him.

Over time, mitachurls became a lot less threatening to you. You fought them so often, it’s hard to remember what it was like to feel scared approaching one. However, they could be very threatening if you were caught off guard or cornered.

While they were less of a threat in your eyes, even now you didn’t underestimate the strength they could possess. They were no pushovers, they had more experience than your average hilichurl and possessed greater strength as imagined.

However, it just so happened to be fully focused on Bennett. How it hadn’t noticed you yet was beyond you. That was to your advantage though, as it left you with the perfect opportunity.

You charged towards the mitachurl, promptly striking it in the back with a precise stab.

Bennett had seemed to weaken it a lot more than you originally thought, as it went down with no further issue.

This left you staring at Bennett, looking shocked to his very core.

“Woah...It’s you!” A smile beamed from Bennett’s face, as he seemed to relax a bit.

“Yeah...I’m glad I was here.” You said, and Bennett nodded.

“Me too, hehe...I was in a really sticky situation. I could’ve handled it, but...I’m freezing a bit. I got ambushed while looking for a heat source, just my luck…” The last part of his sentence was tainted and faded with disappointment, but overall it didn’t seem to bring him down that much.

“I know of one nearby, just over there. I have to leave something here right quick, but I can meet you there if you’d like? I have some hot soup in my bag to help.” You said, and a glimmer of excitement appeared in Bennett’s eyes.

“You’re serious? Like, you mean it?” You nodded to his question, and while he looked a bit hesitant, he eventually agreed.

“I’d offer to stick with you, but...Whatever you’re doing, I don’t wanna mess it up.” He laughed a bit uncomfortably, before walking in the direction you told him that the fire was in.

After Bennett walked off, you found a nice spot to put the flowers in. Hopefully, they’d be left undisturbed...Flora mentioned to you that she’d need them back after a couple of days.

Now that you had time to calm down, you felt the cold start to fully kick in. You were freezing…

It was definitely time for you to get to a heat source as well.

Walking back to the fire you were previously at before finding Bennett, you were greeted with a less-than-ideal sight.

The fire had been completely eradicated by a pile of snow, and Bennett looked hopelessly defeated next to it.

“That’s so weird...I walked over here and I must have disturbed the snow or somethin’, it fell directly on it.” You started to wonder if this really was the bad luck the adventurers were talking about.

Just two occurrences, although close together you refused to judge him harshly for it. He was struggling just as much as you were, no way you were abandoning him over some petty words you overheard from the guild.

“Hey, it’s alright. I know of a device near here that radiates heat. It’s close by and can’t be snuffed out so we should be fine there.” You said, and Bennett seemed relieved at your words.

It was only a minute or so of walking before you both approached the device, and you promptly activated it before it gave off a huge burst of heat, relieving you both immediately of the cold that felt as if it was seeping into your skin.

“Ahh...That feels so much better.” Bennett said, and you nodded in agreement, taking a seat on a nearby tree log and taking the soup out of the pack you brought with you.

“Have a seat, we can share.” You smiled, and so he did.

After about fifteen seconds of silence, Bennett broke it with a question.

“I hope this doesn’t come off as offensive or anything, you know, with you helping me and all, but…” Bennett paused for a moment, contemplating on how he should word it, “You’ve heard stuff about me, right? It shocks me that you’re not trying to get away from me cause’ I’m sure you’ve probably noticed...My luck is horrible.”

He laughed at himself, but you noticed it wasn’t a happy laugh at all. More so laced with subtle sadness.

“I have, actually. It doesn’t bother me though, if anything it was really lucky that I found you. For both of us, I mean.” Bennett seemed surprised at your answer, stunning himself silent for a moment.

“Is that so? Huh...I guess you’re right! Perhaps luck was more on my side today than I thought!” His smile returned to his face, a lot more genuine than how he appeared before.

It was almost funny. Another thing about Bennett that you knew was that he could find something good in any bad situation he was in. His presence made you feel a lot better about being out here.

“Actually, I’ve been curious...What are you doing out here, Bennett? You don’t look like you came prepared at all.” You said, and he chuckled, shaking his head.

“I did, actually! Or, I was, at least… Some weird boar-looking thing surprised me and managed to take all of the stuff I had with me. No idea how that happened though, I thought for sure that my stuff was really secure on me. Guess not, though. My mistake.” He laughed again, and then turned the question around on you, “What are you doing out here? If I’m being honest, I only managed to get out here through a series of distractions. I meant to stick around the entrance, but I guess you could say...I got a bit lost.”

“I’m out here for a commission. Flora asked me to put some of her flowers around the area. I would’ve done it earlier but I didn’t read it carefully enough, I had no idea it’d bring me out here.” You smiled warmly, realizing something, “If I had realized sooner though, I probably wouldn’t have run into you.”

Once again, Bennett’s face lit up.

“Wow, you’re right! Sorry you had to get involved, though. Oh, and thanks for the food! I was starving since my stuff got taken a while ago.”

“My pleasure. We should get going soon, though. I’m all finished up and there’s not a lot of daylight left. I know a path that has little to no enemies and a lot of heat sources. Wanna head back together?” You asked, and Bennett hesitated once again.

“Well, if you’re sure, then yeah! I’m not gonna lie, I’m beat.” He said this with a small chuckle at the end, and with that, you gathered your things and headed off.

You both managed to leave Dragonspine with almost no trouble, apart from Bennett having a few literal slip-ups along the way. Strangely enough...It was a dirt path that you never had trouble on. You didn’t mention it though, as every time you looked back to see if he was alright, he gave you a pleasant smile and a thumbs up.

It felt good finally having somebody with you. Dragonspine had such a lonely and bitter atmosphere to you. It felt grueling ever having to be here alone for just fifteen minutes. Bennett being by your side brought you warmth and comfort, unlike any you had experienced with any other adventurers that had ever accompanied you. The difference with him felt so clear, he was making the atmosphere feel alive rather than lonely. Every time you came here with someone, they were so focused on getting in and getting out that it always felt like a blur. This was different though, time passed much slower and it wasn’t upsetting.

The walk back to Mondstadt was peaceful. You ran into nothing on the way, and even the bad things that were happening to Bennett every so often slowly started to die down a little.

Then there you were, standing at the front gate to the city.

You were kind of surprised that Bennett came with you all the way here, it was rare to see him around at any other time rather than the mornings on some random days. You weren’t complaining though, it felt good to not be alone after that trip. Being in Dragonspine always left you feeling lonely and sad, but Bennett made it hard to feel that way.

“We can split here. After a few recent incidents, I don’t think people really want me around right now, hehe…” Bennett rubbed the back of his head, a bit of flashback pain appearing on his face in the form of a cringe.

“Alright then. Thanks for sticking with me, I really appreciate it.” You smiled, and he looked as if he wasn’t expecting your words at all.

“You mean it? That’s good to hear! Same to you.” He returned a smile, the memories of his recent misfortune fading away from his mind.

“I’ll have to go back in a couple of days, try not to get yourself into any trouble there again. I might not be there to help.” You said this in a teasing tone, and Bennett couldn’t help but laugh with an embarrassment-induced blush slightly appearing on his face.

“Sure thing, just be careful when you go back, hopefully, you’ll have better luck than I did.”

You nodded, and soon after you and Bennett parted ways. It wasn’t horrifically late yet, so you quickly reported back to Flora to tell her that you successfully put all of the flowers where she had asked.

“Thank you so much for your help! I’ll let you know when I need them back.” She gave you a gentle smile, and the satisfaction of successfully completing all of your commissions for the day accompanied you on your way home.

Where you lived was nice, in the way that the atmosphere always made you feel so much better after a tiring day. Especially after trips to Dragonspine, as the flames emitting from your fireplace helped you relax.

After getting ready to sleep, you sunk into your sheets much more easily than usual. You were exhausted and still felt slightly cold. It was easy to get comfortable, easy to lose your thoughts to that sleepiness…

You couldn’t help but think about Bennett, and if you’d see him again anytime soon.

Those in the guild always had so many rude things to say about him, and it made you very frustrated and confused at times.

Both of your parents were in the guild, so you grew up there, basically. This meant that you saw Bennett a lot. Even with all of the time you spent together as kids, nothing that bad ever seemed to happen when he was around you.

It got a lot lonelier after your parents decided to become the wandering-type of adventurers, leaving you here. It motivated you to seriously join the guild though, and become strong on your own. You had years of constant teaching from your parents to take with you on your own journeys.

Every time you just so happened to be around Bennett, though...Even if you weren’t really that close. It always managed to make that loneliness melt away, even if it was just for a second.

You really wanted to see him again, you knew that much.

[pbaintthetb]

well I wrote the prologue for it lmao. The fic is not coming because I have like 5 mdzs projects including a secret santa to write.

~1k and Manga spoilers lmao

Hail Mary

"Well this sucks," is Satoru's thought as he lays there on the ground literally ripped in fucking two. Even goddamn Toji hadn’t managed to do that to him- before he’d mastered purple. And-

And it’s not fucking fair, Satoru feels, almost childishly. Sukuna hadn’t even consumed all twenty of his fingers, only nineteen. And sure, Megumi’s Ten Shadows technique was a hell of a lot of more difficult to fight against than Itadori’s insane strength- especially with Mahoraga but-

But.

But if Satoru is being entirely honest with himself- as he lays here ripped in fucking two- he doesn’t necessarily think he lost because Sukuna had shifted to being in Megumi. And Satoru doesn’t have time to think about any of the rest of that right now. He can’t- He won’t. Anyway, the painful truth is that if Satoru is being entirely honest with himself- something that tends to make his insides shift away from his outsides- but that’s happening anyway right now so why bother about that-

Satoru feels- knows- believes- 

Megumi’s Ten Shadows technique is not the reason why Gojo Satoru, ‘The Strongest’ lost. And it’s not about- it’s-

It’s not about Suguru either this time. This time the failing has been all him.

Fushiguro Toji but warped to be worse through a funhouse mirror. Fushiguro Toji but with more peace and less desperation which-

Which is worrying. Maybe he really is really dying.

Satoru doesn’t-

He’s already seen Suguru, and Nanami, and Haibara. He’d wondered why Shoko wasn’t there, dimly amongst it all, before he’d remembered that she was still alive. So.

Satoru misses Nanami. It hasn’t been very long. From his perspective at least. He wants to see Nanami again. He wants to see Tsumiki- he wants to see Megumi.

And now that face but not those hands are going to haunt his dreams twice.

Assuming he has anymore dreams to haunt after this.

God, he really is dying. Being so honest and dismal. It’s-

He wants to tell Megumi how proud he is of him. And that unbearable sappiness is how Satoru knows-

But can Megumi even hear him from where he’s trapped in Sukuna?

If he ever wants to see- hell, who is Satoru kidding.

If Satoru ever wants any one else- say Itadori, to see Megumi again. Satoru needs a goddamn Hail Ma-

-There’s blood in his mouth. That’s- that’s disgusting. He hates- it’s slimy and it’s- it’s his goddamn blood.

Oh that is disgusting. Sure, Satoru’s dying, but-

He kind of wants to raise a limitless barrier on his tongue just to get it to stop. He could- Satoru can.

He’s been wandering around with this limitless barrier in his stomach for- well it’s hard to tell how long when factoring in the prison realm. But. Some time.

Itadori’s one of his cute students after all! Can’t let anyone but good ol’ sensei finish him off- and only when  ready.

Considering Sukuna was able to wake up and hop into Megumi this potentially may have been a mistake. Binding vows are tricky like that.

Anyway, Satoru could have kept it anywhere, but after Toji, sometimes a Hail Mary is what you need. Before he’d learnt the reversed curse technique. And now-

Well it’s back to Satoru’s embarrassment that he’d lost against the King of Curses at only 95% of its strength.

And is now dying.

Without his legs.

He’s surprised he’s held on this long really. But again. Satoru really doesn’t want to die.

But a Hail Mary?

He’s got his limitless up in his stomach– and at the bottom of his stomach too to stop some of the blood getting out.

It’s- it’s kinda hard. There’s no one around, so he can admit that. They’ve all been watching this fight. So that’s kind of embarrassing. His students seeing their sensei lose! So much for showing off, eh?

He doesn’t think about anyone else in that room or-

Instead he’s thinking of how they still have to fight Sukuna, not just Kenjaku. Maybe together they can all do it. Maybe Satoru drove Sukuna down enough.

Maybe Satoru isn’t going to die here.

Maybe Satoru doesn’t have Sukuna’s twentieth finger floating around in his stomach like-

(see, it’s funny because Satoru does. The higher ups were hardly going to find it in here. And Itadori had done it so it couldn’t be too hard.)

Satoru isn’t sure the answer to the Sukuna problem is more Sukuna. But Satoru really doesn’t want to die.

He’s only been in this position once before, and he’d found some Hail Mary to pull through then.

Last time the Hail Mary hadn’t really been so much of a Hail Mary as a last wind though, a breakthrough.

Now though…if Satoru drops the limitless barrier containing Sukuna’s finger before he dies…

He might just live.

Or he might just die.

But not now.

And everyone else might not destroy themselves going up against Sukuna.

(Until they had to go up against Gojo Satoru too.)

Hmm, a problem.

(But one where Satoru doesn’t die right here, right now. One where he can get his own back and prove that he, Gojo Satoru the Strongest, can best Ryomen Sukuna the King of Curses.)

The slimy fucking blood is still in his mouth. His legs are kicking around somewhere just out of his sight. (So much for tearing up the system of sorcerors, Satoru’s been torn. He giggles a little. Sombers)

He’s not meant to die this young. He bested it once- he bested the goddamn sorcerer killer and-

Doing this would be for Megumi. Megumi wouldn’t want that. Megumi had been horrified enough at Itadori eating the finger, and now Satoru is about to jump down that rabbit hole.

No. Satoru can’t do this. What would it even solve? (He wouldn’t be dying right now.)

He’d just be adding another Sukuna to the stage. Sure, he could help in the fight against Sukuna (and save Megumi) and kill off Kenjaku (and lay Suguru to rest) and stop another series of sorcerers from having to die- and prove that he really is the strongest-

And make himself into a curse. But Satoru has yet to find a problem he can’t solve eventually. Even reversed curse technique. Even teleportation. Even-

This is probably a really bad idea. He should probably just focus on trying to get the finger out of his stomach so-

Ah. What the hell. When has Satoru even been known for avoiding bad ideas?

Satoru lets limitless go.

if I wrote jjk fic (we dont' talk about my 500w rage fic) I'd write one where Sukuna was indeed correct about Gojo having the last finger and he eats it, (creating two sukuna's which is interesting in its own right) but more importantly allows a gojo with altered everything to crop back up and probably still ultimately die cos now he has sukuna in him but means it could be more narratively satisfying (for me)

[emerald-chaos]

Touchdown

*gif not mine, credit goes to the owner*

I just want to take a moment to say thank you for the love on my last fic! It made my lil ole heart swell to see that peopled enjoyed it enough to leave a like or reblog.

This is just something special I had in my arsenal that I wrote for a friend a few months ago. I touched it up a bit and added a few things here and there. It all started when we were talking about how much we loved when Chris' accent got heavier after he'd been drinking, and well, I couldn't help myself lol. I hope you enjoy the fluff! xoxo

I apologize for any grammatical errors, I tried to proof-read but am also a little exhausted lol.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 2844

Warnings: I don't think there's anyway? Mentions of being drunk/drinking alcohol, cursing, and illusions to sexy times, but that's about it.

You hadn’t noticed how furiously your knee was bouncing up and down until the person sitting next to you on the subway got up to move seats once the train squealed to a stop. You sighed and ran your hands down the front of your thighs. Normally being a little late didn’t bother you as much, but tonight you were meeting him.

You flipped your wrist over to check your watch. 8:30pm. In all honesty, it had probably been only thirty seconds later than when you checked it the last time. Another deep sigh escaped from your lips as you started to become hyper aware of the train remaining still at the current stop. What could possibly be taking so long? You knew he wouldn’t care if you were running late, but the time the two of you had together already felt so minuscule. You wanted to capitalize on every second you could.

The train began moving again and you slumped back into your seat, feeling only a small amount of relief. It was becoming painfully apparent that you needed to try and relax. You could feel the sweat building up on your body, the sting on your palms from where your fingernails were pressing in with a vengeance moments ago, and you could hear your heart thumping in your ears. Your hand dug around in your purse for a few moments before finding the small case you were looking for. Opening it, you slipped your headphones into your ears and let your head rest on the window behind you as music intertwined with your thoughts.

Once upon a time, you made fun of people who decided to go to grad school. What kind of a clown would spend thousands of MORE dollars and go BACK to school?? Not to mention the stress of the assignments, the due dates - it was not for you...or so you thought.

Now here you are, a regular booboo the fool.

NYU’s graduate program for design and merchandising wasn’t necessarily part of your 5-year plan, but when the opportunity landed in front of you it was difficult to pass up. NYU was a school you had only dreamt of attending back in high school. When you were a senior in high school you were able to tour the campus and fell in love immediately. Hours upon hours were spent researching grants, scholarships, and all sorts of ways to try to make it happen. However, the dream ended as most teenage dreams do - crushed. There was no way you or your parents could afford the loans that it would surely wrack up to attend the out of state university, and there was no way you could ask your parents take on that kind of debt just so you could go to college. UMass was the way to go - close to home and familiar. Not to mention you were able to obtain several scholarships and grants that helped bring down the cost tremendously. Little did you know, boring ole UMass would bring you one of the most important things in your life.

Applying for graduate school wasn’t an easy decision and one you couldn’t really take all the credit for. A smile crept across your face as you reminisced on the night you nervously brought up the idea to your long-term boyfriend.

“I think you should do it,”

“I know, right?” you scoffed, “it’s insane, why would I do something so stup...wait, what? You do?”

“Of course I do. This is something you love and that you’re passionate about. Do you know how many hours of my life were spent listening to you ramble about NYU?” he questioned with a grin.

“It will open up so many doors for you. We can make things work,” a chuckle escaped from those beautiful lips as he saw your dumbfounded expression. He wrapped his fingers around your waist and pulled you close, “What? Did you expect me to forbid it? Cmon, baby, what kind of guy do you take me for?”

You didn’t have a lot of wins in your life, but you did have Chris.

When you got accepted, he took off a week from work to drive you 3 and a half hours south to help get you settled and moved into your temporary new home. The two of you ate a disgusting amount of pizza, moved a ridiculous amount of heavy furniture in the middle of a summer heat wave, and enjoyed each other’s company before the long-distance thing would set in. Chris spent that week encouraging you every step of the way, talking you off the ledge when you were convinced you had made the wrong decision, and made sure to help you christen every possible surface of your new place in the most deliciously sinful way.

You bit your lip slightly at the thought and a warm feeling spread across your face. Chris was one of the most incredible people you had met in this world. Kind, caring, funny, intelligent, passionate, and god was he sexy. The connection the two of you had was scary at first, but now you just couldn’t imagine spending your life with anyone else.

The robotic voice came over the loud-speaker in the subway car and you were rudely ripped back to reality as it pulled into your stop. You hurriedly scooped up your bag and jogged off the train.

It had been a promise between the two of you when you moved that there would be equal effort when it came to visiting and keeping in contact while having good, open communication. Long distance was hard but the two of you were determined to make it work. FaceTime calls, hours upon hours of texting, and even as far as writing the occasional letter back and forth (because your boyfriend was a hopeless romantic and you loved it so much). This weekend was your turn to come home to visit, and of course your last class had to go longer than anticipated. Fuckin’ Tiffany and her stupid ass questions.

The muscles of your calves burned as you kept up your hurried pace, weaving through the crowds of people gathered on sidewalks outside of various clubs and restaurants. It was a weekend night and the Patriots were playing, which meant the city was more alive than usual. New York was it's own beast, but it was a different type of hustle and bustle. Nights like these made your heart ache for home - the thick Massachusetts accents, the rowdy voices of bar patrons arguing about the game, the hugs shared between family members as they parted after dinner, and the faint smell of nicotine and alcohol that hung in the air.

As the neon sign that hung in the pub window came in to view you felt your heart dip down into your stomach. Last weekend’s visit had to be cancelled due to some stuff coming up with Chris’ work and a surprise assignment for you, so you hadn’t seen your boyfriend in 2 weeks. With a deep breath you swung open the door and scanned the crowd for him. He told you that he would be there promptly at 7:15pm for pregame shenanigans with his friends - which actually translated to how many pitchers of beer could they suck down before kick off.

“Aw, come ON! That is such a bullshit call!”

You heard him before you saw him. Of course. A grin spread across your lips as you shook your head. The thought of leaving to avoid secondhand embarrassment crossed your mind briefly before you picked up your feet and made your way through the crowd toward the sound. A room full of people from New England and you would still recognize that voice anywhere.

Everyone else seemed to fade away as you saw the outline of the tall, dark haired man standing at the bar. The slight freckles that spattered the back of his neck, the Brady jersey that he spent WAY too much money customizing, and the signature backward ball cap were ingrained in your subconscious memory. Not to mention if you didn’t recognize his outline or his voice, you would definitely recognize that ass anywhere.

You loved how passionate he got about sports and the way his Boston accent seemed to get thicker with each beer he consumed. Growing up in the area, you wouldn't think the accent would send a tingle down your spine the way it does, but it was different - it was Chris. Not to mention the sparkle in his eye when he would watch his favorite team or the way he would get in to arguments whenever someone tried to say something negative about them. You loved your big, handsome, over-sized toddler man so damn much.

A light tap on his shoulder made him whip around, his slightly opened mouth from his interrupted conversation curved upwards into a wicked grin as he made the connection of who was finally standing in front of him.

“Hey there, handsome. I don’t see a ring on your finger. You single?” You grinned, feeling your entire body fill with warmth as Chris leaned back and grabbed his chest as he erupted in laughter.

“Nah, nah, nah, unfortunately for you I am taken” he responded as he snaked his arms around your waist, sliding his hands into your back pockets as he pulled you into his figure.

“That is too bad,” you tsk'd, running a finger down his toned bicep, “she’s one lucky girl.”

“I think I’m the lucky one,” he grinned. He leaned down to meet your lips in a kiss. You sighed into it, allowing your body to mold itself so perfectly into his. The taste of beer on his lips and the smell of his cologne was intoxicating - it was home. You immediately allowed him entrance as you felt his tongue glide along your bottom lip. Your body felt small in his strong grip and you couldn’t help but laugh a bit as he gave your ass a firm squeeze. Normally, this type of bold, public display of affection would make you cringe away but at this point you were lost in Chris that you had absolutely no shame. Each time the two of you embraced had always felt like the first. Your heart still fluttered and your knees still got weak, like you were a 16 year old being kissed for the first time.

In the middle of your reunion moment, however, something happened in the game that made the entire bar erupt in boo’s and curses. Chris lifted his lips from yours to look over his shoulder and inspect what he had missed. You laughed and shook your head as you pushed him back towards his friends and took a seat in the bar stool he had been standing behind initially. His large hands found a natural place on your shoulders. While his eyes remained glued on the TV he began applying a moderate amount of pressure to your neck and shoulders. You didn’t realize how much your body craved that touch, his touch, until you immediately melted back into him.

The bartender slid a beer in front of you with a wink and you mouthed your thanks. You felt a twinge in your heart as you looked around, taking in the atmosphere of the bar. This was a typical weekend night for the two of you whenever you were living together. Football, drinks, pub food, and friends. If it wasn’t this pub it was your living room, just a couple blocks away. You didn’t even mind that it was your first night back and you weren’t alone, spending it immediately wrapped up in your satin sheets. The atmosphere, the people - it was so warm and familiar that you really wouldn’t rather be doing anything else. Plus, being wrapped up together in the sheets was sure to follow.

“I missed you,” hummed a pair of lips as they placed a kiss on the shell of your ear. A shiver shot down your spine at the sensation of his warm breath fanning over your neck. You reached up a hand and connected it to the nape of his neck.

“I missed you too,” you replied, turning your head to plant a kiss on his stubbled cheek.

His arms changed position as he wrapped them in front of your shoulders and crossed them, resting his chin on the top of your head. Your hand absentmindedly rubbed his forearms as you nursed your beer and placed your focus onto the game for the first time tonight.

The laughter seemed to escape from your chest naturally and effortlessly the entire night, as it always had a habit of doing when Chris was around. The camaraderie between him and his buddies during a game was something you’d grown to enjoy over the years. Chris’ competitive nature and the way his jaw clenched when something wasn’t going the way he wanted was always kinda...hot. All of his friends were huge assholes, but in the best way. It was always entertaining to hear them jab at each other and do what they could to rile someone up. They were the life of every party you had ever attended and they had a way of making a boring night a lot more interesting.

Thankfully (for the integrity of the bar) the Pats won the game with a surprise touchdown in the last 30 seconds of the game. Chris, being the guy he is, bought a final round for his friends and a nearby group they had been going back and forth with all night. You couldn’t help but laugh as he drunkenly leaned across the counter and slurred his order to the bartender.

“I need a round for m’friends and for these assholes over here who thought Tom Brady was anything but a winner!” the group started yelling in protest and he simply waved them off and started sliding beers down the bar.

The group eventually moved to a bigger round top so everyone could shoot the shit and banter about the outcome of the game. You were tucked into Chris’ side, hands intertwined as he was passionately discussing the importance of Brady’s legacy with a stranger who made the mistake of stopping to talk to him. Your eyes followed the motion of your thumb as it traced small circles onto the back of his. Your other hand under your chin, holding up the weight of your head as your exhaustion started to catch up with you. Chris, although slightly drunk, picked up on your body language and raised your hand to his lips for a kiss.

“Alright, fellas,” he said as he stood up from his seat, pulling you up with him, “the lady and I are gonna call it a night. See you boys next weekend”.

“Chris, we don’t have to go,” you began to protest as he tucked his jacket around your shoulders.

“Mm, ‘course we do,” he replied with a soft smile, “you’re so tired, baby. I can see it in those beautiful eyes”.

You could feel your cheeks turn a light shade of pink as you rolled your eyes at his attempt at laying it on thick. After what felt like a proper 10 minute goodbye session, the group said their final goodbyes, hugs included, and you walked out of the pub hand in hand.

The walk home was filled with the sounds of cars passing by and conversation of what each other had missed in the week prior. Small talk typically felt like such a chore, but with Chris every conversation came naturally. Even when he had absolutely no idea what you were talking about, he would listen intently and ask all the questions as if it was the most interesting conversation in the world.

The lock on the apartment door clicked as you pushed it open and entered. You smiled as you stopped into the middle of the living room, taking in the home you missed so dearly. A soft tapping of toenails against the hardwood made your heart soar as you met the eyes of your sweet pup, Dodger. A squeal left your lips as you squatted down to give love to the sweet boy. Chris always made fun of you when you came home, saying that you always seemed to miss Dodger more than you did him and I mean, he wasn’t entirely wrong about that statement.

Once again lost in your own world, you didn’t even notice Chris leaned up against the wall watching you with a smile.

“Oh my god,” you gushed, standing up, “do you like...like me or something?”

Chris grinned as he crossed the room and caught your belt loop with his finger, pulling you into him slowly.

“Yeah,” his voice had dropped down an octave, “you could say that”.

“Mm,” your tongue swiped across your lower lip and you wrapped your arms around his neck, “care to show me how much?”

The look in his eyes made your core burn. The tension building between you two became too much to handle as you crashed your lips into his. The kisses were messy and you could feel the sense of urgency between you two. His beard scratched against the column of your throat with a delicious burn as he left wet kisses across your jaw and down the side of your neck. Chris’ hands found their way back into the ass pockets of your jeans as he started walking you back towards the direction of the bedroom.

Soon, there was a trail of clothes leading to your bedroom and you felt very sorry for your neighbors. It had been a long time, but Chris always had a way of welcoming you home.

[lululawrence]

Can u please be nicer on ao3? Maybe you should try answering people's comments

when i read the first line i was honestly flabbergasted and wracking my brain trying to figure out when in the world i wasn't nice on ao3 ever. because i honestly truly try to be nice to everyone always, even when i'm angry or frustrated or people are going after those i love and want to protect. if there was a time i WASN'T nice on ao3, i wondered if it was maybe because my comment had been misunderstood or someone saw me razzing an author i'm good friends with and they didn't get that we are close and i said what i did with so much love and appreciation, you know? like what??? did i do???

but then i read your second line. and please forgive me if i come off as rude in my response to this, because honestly i'm in a pretty bad spot mentally and emotionally in general right now, but PARTICULARLY today, and this ask triggered an anxiety response in me. so. i'm trying really hard to word this in a way to educate without being condescending or mean, but i might not succeed.

firstly, thank you for your comments i'm assuming you've left. i'm also assuming they were nice comments, in which case extra thanks. i'm sure i'll send you effusive responses on ao3 when the time comes.

secondly, please understand that sending an ask like this, on anonymous no less, is incredibly entitled. writing is not my profession, i receive no compensation for my works that i post for free online, and as a part of that it is not required of me to respond. i do my very best to reply to every comment i receive, but it is not always in a timely manner, because i have other priorities in my life. all of which leads us to my third point, which is:

writers do not owe you a reply to your comments. end of. there are no other qualifications or quantifying modifiers to be added to the statement. is it nice to be acknowledged and know your comment was seen? sure. but do they OWE you one? hell no.

in fact, i'd like to offer you a suggestion. a way of tweaking your thinking about the comments you leave on fics. instead of looking at comments you leave as being something that deserves a reply from the author, think of your comments as your way of paying the author for the gift of their time and talents that they have shared with you by posting their fic. that's how i think of the comments i leave for authors. i'm giving them my thanks for the words they've shared! i want to help THEM feel as amazing as they have made ME feel when i read their fic. in fact, my hope isn't necessarily a response from them, but instead my hope is THE GIFT OF THEM SHARING MORE FIC WITH ME. i'm a selfish bitch in that way and i always want all the fic to read. i never want that well to go dry. one way i can ensure that doesn't happen is by supporting authors and being kind to them and spreading all the love and excitement i can about their writing in the hopes that my words will inspire them to share more.

because whether they reply or not, i GUARANTEE they are seeing your comments. i PROMISE they are. and for all you know, your comment might be the one that keeps them writing even when their words aren't coming easily or when they are tempted to give up.

but, again, please remember that no matter what, these authors (including me) don't actually owe you anything.

the rest of this is going under a cut, because honestly my reply is already far too long and i have a LOT more to say now that you've gotten me started.

now, all of this in mind, i'll explain to you why i'm not great with keeping up with comments made on my fics the last couple of years. i don't owe you this explanation any more than i owe you a response to your comments, and i'm honestly not sure you deserve this explanation either, but i'll still offer it anyway. it'll help me feel better knowing i at least put this out there, whether you care or not, mainly because if i don't do that it will cause me greater anxiety having you possibly think i am not responding to people because i feel all high and mighty or that i think i'm better than the comments or whatever the fuck kind of motivation you're attributing to me to see my lack of a response as something "not nice" towards the commenters.

i'm not sure if you've noticed, but i put out a lot of fic. like a lot. a lot of words and shit. i love writing, it's often my therapy and a way for me to help keep my anxiety and depression and ptsd at bay.

now, more personal shit for you, i've got three kids ages 9 and under. the oldest has adhd which we have yet to find a med for that helps to the extent she needs without side effects that aren't healthy for her to continue with, she also has anxiety, AND she's extremely gifted and starting a new program at a new school, all in the midst of a pandemic. and all of those situations exacerbate her anxiety! huzzah! she's also dealing with the beginning of her tween growing up shit, which is great fun because it means where she used to be pretty damn understanding of her younger brother, she is finding it much more difficult to. because the second oldest? he's autistic with some pretty significant gross motor, speech, and socialization delays that have only been exacerbated because of the previously mentioned pandemic. PLUS he transitioned from his special needs preschool to a fully integrated elementary school for kindergarten last year and then had to deal with all the ups and downs of the switch from e-learning to hybrid to all in schooling when everything in him screams for a normal schedule he can rely on to keep his own anxieties and fears and struggles at their minimum. and that youngest child? he was born in january of last year. he STILL barely leaves the house and has only met other children in close range a couple of times because, once again, pandemic!

add onto all of this my own mental health issues, the fact that my husband ALSO battles major clinical depression, adhd, and anxiety, AND we live with my parents who have their own health issues, both mental and physical. i run the home for our house of seven. i keep this place functioning, fed, clothed, clean, and everywhere we need to be for all of our five million appointments every. fucking. day. there is a REASON i've been borderline burnt out for the last fucking year and a half.

now, for fun, i have fandom shit. i love it here, even if it is a dumpster fire on the best of days, and getting to be a part of the writing community is so very lovely. i adore it. honestly, it's because of those friendships i've built with other writers that i have been able to keep writing and have found just how helpful it can be for my mental health. but i'm REALLY. INCREDIBLY. BUSY. i hardly have time to get on tumblr for just a quick swipe through my dash most days. i put off asks so long i forget i have them. i don't have the mental and emotional capacity to talk to people on here or interact fully a lot of the time. but i do my best to do so and be kind while i'm at it even when i don't want to be.

then, on top of that? i also run fic fests like @wordplayfics and help friends run their own. because not only am i a writer, i'm a reader. i LOVE fic. fic has saved me soooooo many times over the past seven years that i've been here. i want to do what i can to support other writers the best way i can, which is to provide a space for them to create their works that welcomes and helps promote them, but also by doing my monthly fic lists and pocast highlighting what i've been able to read, reblogging their fic posts, and then commenting and kudosing their fics too.

sometimes i get really fucking down on myself because i'm so behind on replying to comments, but my brain is very much a "if you start this, you have to finish it" kind of a brain, and i feel even WORSE sometimes if i reply to comments on some fics and not all of them. but i do my best and reply when i can. i was actually really fucking proud of myself because i had a couple days to myself in june, and i spent hours replying to comments on 20 of my fics. when you have almost 150 fics (i think? i don't even know how many fics i've posted by now), that is only scratching the surface. but i tried and i was so so happy i did that many fics at once. it's exhausting, though, and takes a lot of spoons for me to reply to them in mass like that plus time consuming. so i tried to be happy with those 20 fics and the comments i responded to there and told myself that when i ha a moment to breathe, i'd go and work on replying to some more.

but see, that again causes anxiety and guilt. because i haven't replied to all of them. and that anxiety and guilt can cause me to put it off further OR to put off important things like feeding my children or getting sleep in order to finish it, so i have to make myself put things into perspective and ensure i'm doing the important things, like taking care of myself and my family, first.

and then, i have a moment where i CAN go ahead and reply to comments... but i also have MANY fics that are on deadline and i actually have a schedule. a SCHEDULE. for when i'm going to focus on which fics. i can spell it out for you if you really want. i made it back in APRIL to make sure i didn't sign up for too many fic fests because there are so many going on right now that i want to participate in, but i know i can't do all of them so i had to pick and choose. and when you are SO overscheduled and busy that back in APRIL you had to figure out what fics you would focus on at what time to ensure you got everything written when you wanted to through THE END OF THE YEAR, more choices have to be made.

for example. my writing time and time for myself came down to only one evening a week for ALL fandom things i'm doing and a part of right now once the kids were out of school for the summer. it quickly became apparent that for my own self care i needed more time, so i worked with my husband to find two other days i could carve out at least 30-60 minutes to myself to write every week. and i did. but if i'm already only getting that much time and have committed to those fics and fests and things that you're running etc, you have to choose am i going to use this time to try to squeeze in some comment replies? or am i going to write? and i choose to write. simple as that.

so yeah. see it as selfish if you want. see it as mean. you can honestly see it as whatever the fuck you want, but for me? i know that as soon as i possibly can and i can breathe freely for once and not feel like i am constantly drowning in my day to day life and am doing pretty well when it comes to my fic deadlines and getting started on those christmas cards i'm once again going to be making by hand for everyone on tumblr who chooses to sign up for one this year out of the KINDNESS of my heart and the love i really do feel for so many of you, then i promise i'll be on ao3 catching up and commenting. my friends laugh and make fun of me for it sometimes, because they will sometimes get 10-12 replies to their comments in a single day. they know that's how i work. i WILL reply to every single comment i get, no matter how old it is. but for the love of all that is holy, do NOT add to the anxiety and guilt i already feel over it. the only place that will get you is the ask/comment getting deleted if it's a good day, a fucking long rant like this one if it's not, and a block if it's a REALLY bad day.

if you're asking me to be nice on ao3, then i ask in return that you also be nice by not demanding things of people that they are not in any way obligated to give.

[pangolinheart]

Hi there! Thank you so much for taking the time to write all of this up! I’m sure it must have been time-consuming, so I appreciate that you were willing to do that on my behalf. I took a little bit of time to think about it, since I wasn’t feeling up to very much other than work this week anyway. I hope you don’t mind the late response. ^^; I also put it under the cut. Please don't feel obligated to read it if you don't want to! I also don't want to clog up people's dashes much more.

To be clear, I don’t think that anyone in particular has ever told me that Rhiki is a bad character (I suppose I have a few more creatively-minded friends who just weren’t interested in her or lost interest very quickly, but they never actually said that they didn’t like her.) I’m just… not very confident in my own abilities or in Rhiki as a character. In general, while people have always tried to be polite and try to avoid saying things that are outright critical, I’ve never really gotten much positive feedback on anything “creative” I’ve undertaken, which over the course of many years and many different people, has made me a little bit discouraged. I think I mentioned this in my original post, but I’m 100% sure I could improve with years of practice, it’s just that practice is laborious and I have a really low tolerance for being bad at things, which I’m trying to work on. For whatever reason my brain has a really hard for my brain to wrap itself around rewards that are so far in the future, If I’m not proud of the things I make now, and they don’t make other people happy either, it’s hard for me to motivate myself to work at it every day in the hopes that years from now I’ll be better at it. I'm working to improve and think more positively, but it's not always easy!

It’s true that I’ve started to feel like Rhiki isn’t a very good character, though. Beyond not having a backstory, it seems that her personality, thoughts, and motivations are difficult to understand, and I… can’t really think of anything particularly good about her? She has positive traits as a person, but no real points of interest as a character. I have an ask sitting in my inbox right now along the lines of “What are all of the things that make Rhiki cool?” that I haven’t answered because… I can’t really think of anything that makes her cool (but I don’t want to be a downer!) She’s just not a cool character. She might not necessarily be a bad character, but she’s not a good one either, and I don’t know how to make that better without changing her into a different character completely. That’s always been my problem – I just don’t have any ideas. Not a single one. And now I’m a little bit embarrassed that I posted about her at all (even though everyone has been very kind and patient in interacting with me and trying to help me!)

But… I’m trying to be better at not giving up, even though part of me kind of wants to just forget the whole thing, so in the interest of “practice” I decided to try and answer some of your questions. I hope you don’t mind! I didn’t come up with any breakthroughs but maybe typing it up will help.

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Is Rhiki an adventurer?

To answer this… I’m not sure if Rhiki is really an adventurer or not. I’ve always thought she likes trying new things and meeting new people, but I don’t know that her long-term goal is being an adventurer. When you first start the game Brevard asks you why you decided to become an adventurer and the game gives you three options: fame, money, or for the sake of adventure. But none of those really resonated with me. I guess I kind of imagined that she decided to become an adventurer so that she could see the world, make new friends, have new experiences, etc. because she didn’t really know what to do with the rest of her life, Unfortunately this might have to change, because it just doesn’t seem like there’s anything to add to it.

2. Why did Rhiki leave her miqo family?

No idea!

I guess I had tossed around 2 different options, I made Rhiki a sunseeker purely for aesthetic reasons – I just didn’t vibe with the giant round pupils (do they not dilate in the light at all? How do moonkeepers see in the daylight?). I always imagined her having kind of sharp teeth like a moonkeeper, though, because normal teeth on a cat person is for cowards. I also chose a miqo purely because it seemed most outside of my usual type (buff ladies and shitty magic elves.) I didn’t really make her with a history of hunting or fierce independence in mind lol. Honestly? Rhiki probably would be a terrible miqo’te hunter. She doesn’t really like killing things, even when she knows she has to. She doesn’t revel in self-sufficiency (quite the opposite actually). She’s not graceful or quiet, and I’ve never seen her as being someone who’s big on “the thrill of the chase.”

That being said, my humble opinion of a lot of the basic miqo’te lore is that it sucks. Especially the sunseekers. (Not that I fault anyone who likes the miqo’te lore and sees it as an integral part of their character! You do you!) I don’t have any evidence for this, but my guess is that the sunseeker family structure is based around an extremely over-simplified understanding of how lion prides work. If I think too hard about how this traditional structure could be sustainable with only 26 groups over a wide geographic area my head will explode so I won’t get into it. Even setting that aside, though, I do not think Rhiki would vibe with the patriarchal structure of sunseeker clans, and I don’t think she’d thrive in an environment where she had to share attention and affection with like 15 siblings and cousins – she’s not very good at being assertive about her own needs, standing up for herself, or setting boundaries, so I imagine her getting forgotten about in the shuffle by caretakers and getting kind of steamrolled over or even bullied by siblings or cousins with stronger personalities. I don’t see her being thrilled about being bossed around by One Guy, either, even if it’s her dad. Rhiki’s general opinion on gender is that it’s fake and also dumb, so why should only dudes get to lead the tribe? If anyone deserves a gaggle of adoring lovers it’s her. I also don’t feel that she’d be thrilled about the idea of having to reproduce with Some Guy just because he was stronger than the last nunh, or with having to share a “husband” with a bunch of other women (probably including her sisters and cousins – the phrasing of the blurb on miqo’te culture is unclear but only makes mentions of Tias leaving the tribe.) She’s down with polyamory but that’s… a lot. If she did grow up in the Z clan I imagine she would leave because she just didn’t like it and didn’t want to be beholden to her “role” in the family. In this case I could see her having a pretty contentious relationship with a lot of her family, and she probably wouldn’t be interested in returning or reconciling with the clan. She’d rather put that part of her life behind her.

But it is mentioned that there are definitely sunseekers who have left the traditional social structure to live independently in places like Limsa Lominsa and Ul’dah, and presumably elsewhere, so the second option is she was born to two of those miqo’te. In this scenario I think she’d be an only child, and her relationship with her parents has a much higher potential to be positive. If it is positive though… I don’t really know why she’d leave. Maybe to “spread her wings” and explore her options but it seems like there have got to be easier, closer-to-home ways to do that than moving to Gridiania to be an adventurer. If something happened to her family, then it would make more sense because she wouldn’t have anything tying her to the place she grew up in. Because her “motivation” to become an adventurer is kind of weak, it’s a little hard to imagine her leaving her family behind to do it. It’s certainly not impossible!  She does like new experiences, and maybe she didn’t anticipate being gone very long, but it would be a harder sell.

At one point, because of the color scheme I ended up going with (sunset/sunrise kinda vibe) It thought it might be kind of thematically appropriate to have one parent be a moonkeeper and the other be a sunseeker, but that seems super cliché, and I don’t know if it actually adds anything to the story.

3. Did Rhiki’s journey start at the adventurer’s guild?

Once again, no idea!

I never imagined Rhiki having adventuring experience prior to arriving in Gridania (I didn’t know anything about the lore when I started playing so I didn’t have enough context to imagine her with any prior experience, and I can’t imagine what it would be or what it would add/change if it existed.) She may have done odd jobs and bounced around before deciding on adventuring, though.

I’ve got nothing for this one, sorry. @_@ I thought about it but had absolutely nothing to go off of. So I guess it would be the safest to go with "no prior history of adventuring."

4. What are her lived experiences that revented her from losing her naivety earlier in life?

The only thing I could come up for with this is that… she’d just never really experienced adversity before? Obviously, that goes back to “why would she leave home in the first place?”  This also really limits anything about her backstory that might be a good story hook, Like I said, I think Rhiki is sort of a boring character with nothing really notable or interesting about her, so I guess that would fit? I definitely don’t think she grew up wealthy, though, so she wouldn’t have been insulated in that way…. She’s about 22 at the beginning of her story, which isn’t that old but also isn’t that young. Once again after a lot of thought… I have no idea what kind of experiences would make a person so emotionally open and trusting. Sorry. ^^;

5. Why does her not having a particular hatred for Garlemald matter?

It doesn’t. I was just pointing it out because I know a lot of friends who have backstories that do involve being from Garlemald-occupied territories. Obviously bad things can happen to people that have nothing to do with Garlemald, it just seems like a solid go-to. I just wanted to include it to give context to anything that might or might not have happened in Rhiki’s life.

6. Why would Rhiki resent the Scions? I’ll admit, the Scions aren’t directly responsible for all of the things that happen to her, and even if they weren’t there weird things would keep happening to Rhiki. Rhiki knows this too. She doesn’t resent the Scions because they forced her to be the Warrior of Light. She’s an adult and can make her own choices, so if she didn’t want to help she didn’t have to. So she doesn’t hold them responsible for her ending up on the Warrior of Light, She more resents them because she feels that most of them (save for the twins pot hw) don’t really know her or care about her on a personal level. One of her big hang-ups is that she thinks that people don’t care about Rhiki, they care about the Warrior of Light, who is not synonymous with Rhiki. To make broad generalizations, the Scions kind of fit into two categories: the ones who have No Strong Feelings on Rhiki as a person, and the ones who are projecting.

The ones with No Strong Feelings would be Thancred, Y’shtola, Papalymo, Estinien Urianger, and Alphinaud pre-hw. These are characters that I don’t feel would like or have any interest in Rhiki if she wasn’t the Warrior of Light (maybe ARR Thancred since he likes carousing, but not Dad Thancred). The resentment here comes from the fact that Rhiki feels like they kiiind of take for granted that she’s willing to help them, and that she’ll always emerge victorious and unscathed. Urianger is the only one I can remember ever expressing any worry for the WoL, and that was only in ShB when they were about to turn into a Sin Eater. I don’t think these characters are inherently callous, but they either have other things on their mind (Thancred) or are goal oriented and recognize that sacrifices might need to be made to achieve their goals (Y’shtola, Urianger, Estinien) I just have a hard time imagining any of them being invested in Rhiki in particular. If she disappeared one day and was replaced by another WoL with all the same skills but a totally different personality, it doesn’t seem like it would bother them. Rhiki knows it’s petty, but she resents the fact that… they don’t seem like they’d be that broken up about her death if it didn’t represent the end of the world. They wouldn’t be happy, sure. They’d probably be solemn, maybe even a little sad. But no one’s gonna fall to pieces over it. It’s not going to irreparably alter anyone’s life. It’s just what had to happen for the greater good and all. Rhiki sometimes feels kind of used by them, like she’s a tool more than a friend, and while she knows it’s probably not fair of her to expect them to grieve a bunch over her, it would be nice if they would.

The ones who are projecting are Minfilia, Lyse (to an extent, and G’raha. These are the people that not only don’t see her for who she is, but are actually seeing someone else that represents the hero they want to see. Minfilia and Lyse both make comments about how glad they are they can always lean on the undaunted, unwavering WoL for support in difficult times. They have kind of forced Rhiki into the role of “load-bearing catgirl” – she feels like she has to be strong so no one else falls apart. If everyone is relying on her to be the stalwart pillar of strength and stoicism, who does she lean on when she doesn’t feel like that at all? Once again, she knows it’s kind of mean and petty to resent them for that – she does want to help – but she kind of feels like they don’t have a reciprocal relationship, and what’s worse that they don’t really know what Rhiki is like at all (the strong, silent type she is not.) G’raha is even worse because he has literally mythologized her and turned her into a perfect, unerring symbol of hope for the masses. She’s not a friend, she’s an idol. She’s not a person, she’s a perfect marble statue of a hero. Rhiki sometimes feels like she’s being erased and overwritten by the Warrior of Light everyone wants to see, and that feeling is particularly strong when it comes to G’raha.

So, tl;dr she doesn’t resent the Scions because they forced her to be a hero in the way Hydaelyn did, but because she forced her to be their hero (either in a practical or symbolic way) and without any regard to how it might affect her as a person. So, if helping these people, who don’t seem like they really have an interest in her, personally, caused her relationship with her parents, who would care about her, to erode, I think it would enhance some of that resentment. And if she were to go home post HW and then get dragged back into the conflict, she wouldn’t exactly be thrilled and it would not make it seem like they were her second family. She’ll do what they need her to do and try to be what they need her to be, but extremely begrudgingly.

7. Why would Rhiki having loving parents undermine her autonomy and character growth? What happens when they can’t relate to her experiences? I’ll preface this part by saying that none of this totally precludes the fact that Rhiki could have living parents and have…similar? Experiences. It’s not set in stone that this is how things would unfold, but if it didn’t I would feel like there needed to be reason for it not to unfold this way. This is more clarifying my original thoughts than anything.

I mentioned this earlier, but Rhiki is about 21-23 at the beginning of the story. I think I might not have expressed my thoughts clearly enough here – I absolutely don’t think that Rhiki’s family would tell her what to do or try to control her life. It’s not a matter of them telling her she should do this or she shouldn’t do that. It’s more that, when she has doubts, she would bring them to her parents rather than to already existing characters in the story. She’d do this because she knows her parents love and support her unconditionally, and that she can express her feelings or doubts without disappointing them. It’s not so much about her not dealing with self-doubt and grief and identity and the like, it’s more that she would feel more comfortable talking to her parents about these things than Haurchefant or Alphinaud or Sidurgu or Tataru. When she’s feeling low, she would prioritize going to see them rather than going to Coerthas or Ishgard or the Rising Stones. She couldn’t do this 100% of the time, but assuming they live in Eorzea pre-HW she could do it… pretty much whenever she needed to.

It's true that her parents wouldn’t be able to relate to her problems and experiences, but the thing I I don’t think that Rhiki really needs advice, she just needs to feel like someone cares about her and her problems, and assuming she has a good relationship with both of her living parents, they would almost certainly care, even if they couldn’t help or understand.

A big part of the reason she bonded so much with Haurchefant, and hence what made his death more impactful to her than it did to, say, Alphinaud or Tataru, has to do with the fact that whenever she needed to get away from the Scions, whenever she needed to talk to someone who seemed interested in her as a person, she would go to Coerthas and talk to Haurchefant, because he establishes himself as a friendly presence who’s happy to listen to stories from adventurers. But if going to her parents’ house was an option, she’d probably go there instead. It’s just a place she would feel safer and more secure. She would probably still be friendly with Haurchefant, but even after she’s relegated to Ishgard after the banquet she might not really feel comfortable confiding her feelings in him because they don’t have that pre-established relationship, if that makes sense. It takes time for her to open up about her insecurities, and I don’t think there would be time for that to unfold if it didn’t start until after she got involved in the Dragonsong war.

And there are certainly times when she wouldn’t be able to access her parents, like when she’s become persona non grata in Eorzea after she was set up to take the fall for assassinating the Sultana, and for some of her time on the First. But, in the interest of making it feel less weird to go back to Limsa Lominsa to turn in your supply and provisioning items, the games makes the Warrior of Light very mobile, and they get a lot of downtime (in the post-patches it always feels like everyone tells you to rest after you’ve run one (1) errand. Surely you need a break!) Not everyone can use the Aetheryte system, but it’s a plot point that the WoL definitely can. Even on the first, the WoL can go back and forth between the worlds at will (because you need to report back to Tataru and Krile and get updates on the state of affairs on the Source.) So while she wouldn’t, say, go to her parents house while she was exiled from Eorzea, or when she knew she was about to turn into a sin-eater, because she wouldn’t want to endanger them, there are plenty of times where she would be able to visit them both physically and without posing a danger to them.

8. Where is Rhiki from? And where do her parents live? I’m still undecided about this. I was thinking Limsa, because the blurb on miqo’te says that La Noscea has a fair number of Miqo’te and La Noscea has a lot of non-traditionalist miqo’te. But I’m not married to that, I just can’t think of a better option. It seems kind of meh but I guess it doesn’t have to be interesting or exciting. Probably not from an Garlemald-occupied territory (see above), which mostly just leaves Eorzea, which is pretty easy to access at least 80% of the time.

9. How did Rhiki react, and how did her family handle that? I’m assuming you’re talking about the banquet here. Rhiki definitely didn’t take it well. She felt isolated and like the other Scion’s abandoned her by “bravely” staying behind. She would be pretty down, but once again since Alphinaud is a total wreck she’s kind of forced to pull herself together because someone has to, and pretty soon there are things in motion to clear their names and contact the other Scions, so applying her energy to that would help her to stave off despair.

As for how her family would react afterwards… I guess with comfort? Obviously they can’t do anything to help and the only advice they could really give is to make her own choices and trust in her decision making, but they would probably still give her a hug, listen while she talked, and stroke her back or hair while she cried. And that’s more what Rhiki is looking for than someone to actually tell her what she should do.

10. Is Rhiki someone who gives up easily? What’s wrong with an out? Are her parents insulated from danger? Kind of, yeah. At least at the start, Rhiki isn’t very resilient. She doesn’t trust her own judgment or abilities, isn’t kind enough to herself, and lacks self-confidence. After Thordan was defeated she came very close to giving up, parents or no. Eventually her dealings with Esteem, and later finding kind of a kindred spirit in Alisaie, helped her to stand on her own two feet a little more. Esteem taught her a lot of self-acceptance and self-forgiveness, and Alisaie was the first person Rhiki really wanted to be there for, rather than being expected to be there for – because she sees a lot of herself in Alisaie; the struggle with finding a purpose and the desire to nor be alone.

The problem with an out is that, before all of that, she’d probably take it. Even if she wasn’t as close to Haurchefant before he died (because she talked more to her parents than to him) she would still blame herself for his death, and if she could go back to her parents and quit she probably would. Obviously her parents aren’t totally insulated from danger – anything that threatens the world also threatens them – but I don’t think the war in Ala Mhigo presents any immediate danger. There’s concern that if the Garleans win in Ala Mhigo that they’ll use what happened at Baelsar’s wall as an excuse to conquer the rest of Eorzea, but that never even comes close to happening. If the world explodes because Light takes over the first, it would kill everyone. Rhiki and her parents included, but I don’t think Rhiki would view it through the lens of “I could have helped and chose not to.” Because Rhiki doesn’t think she can help. Other people think she can help, but she think they’re wrong. She thinks more along the lines of “If I encourage them to rely on me and then can’t actually do the things they need me to do, if I slip up again, it will just make things worse. The world will still end and it will be my fault.” It’s obviously not a rational way of thinking, but I can definitely see Rhiki falling into that pattern if she decided to pack up and go home. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------

A big takeaway from what you said is that the backstory is a starting point, and the journey is how she got form there to where she is “now.” I think my resistance to giving her a family came from the fact that I think having those pieces still in play during the story would change the journey, and Rhiki might not end up where she is “now,” even if she did decide to keep being the Warrior of Light. I’m sure there’s a way to do it, I just don’t know what it is.

Anyway this was long and probably repetitive, but thank you for giving me the mental exercise! I’m feeling kind of down about Rhiki as a character, so I’m not sure if I’ll keep posting about her in the long-term or not, but if nothing else, it was good practice.Thank you again for taking the time to coach me a little! <3

@pangolinheart give me the simplified reasons for:

Why she only makes sense if she does have a family

And

Why she only makes sense if she doesn't.

Because I'm not seeing the contradiction that's so obvious to you

[down-in-devildom]

Hi I saw you where looking for requests. What if one of the lower demons is a doubleganger or copy cat? That they change to look identical to mc.

How would the obey me characters (beside levi) react to seeing both mc and doubleganger at the same time?

Thank you

Thank you for the request! Let's get this bread, as they say.

Brothers react to MC and Doppelganger Demon in the same area

Cw: implied violence, implied cannibalism

Lucifer

When Lucifer saw MC's head peak in from the doorframe of his study with a tea platter, he is instantly on high alert but you can't really tell from just a glance at his face

He turns his head to the other MC that is currently going through his cursed vinyl collection and slowly stands up from his desk

He doesn't really bother with questions before instantly grabbing the MC that was too distracted looking through his stuff to sense the impending danger

Being one of the strongest demons in the Devildom, it is a bit difficult to trick him with simple glimmer spells and shape shifting

He was a bit ashamed to admit that he was too engrossed in his paperwork to pay attention the the aura that the MC lookalike was giving off

Lucifer has the imposter bound and gagged in the corner of the room in a flash before he is making his way to you to take a quick tea break

Do not mind the eerily identical person wiggling and crying against their bindings on the floor, MC, he would never do that to you....

Mammon

As a demon that is practically glued to MC's side, he is almost floored when he sees two MCs

"Now I gotta protect two of ya?"

He isn't really complaining about the idea of double of his favorite human

He also thought about showing off the two MCs in some kind of human showcase for a quick Grimm. Lesser Demons don't get to see humans often but how much would you bet that they would pay to see twin humans?!?

Things were going great until the doppelganger starts treating him like his brothers and every other demon

He can take the hurtful words most of the time but he can't really handle it when it is coming out of MC's mouth

He will most likely have to redeem a "favor" a witch owes him to help get rid of the imposter

He likes MC a bit too much to hurt them, even if they are a fake

Satan

When MC is out in the gardens crouched down playing with on of the stray cats in the area, he is on edge and it shows (kind of looks like a puffed up bird)

He literally just saw MC in the library and lent them some of his study material after they asked for it

Satan is a well educated demon and knows about the existence of doppelgangers but never witnessed it firsthand...that he knows of

He takes this opportunity to stalk observe the MC in the garden and compare their behavior with the experiences he remembers having with the MC in the past

He is pretty sure he knows which MC is the real one but his suspicions are confirmed when the two MCs bump into each other on the front entrance steps and the Garden MC looks shocked while the Library MC's reaction is a lot more subdued

Sooner, rather than later, there is only one MC left. What happened to the doppelganger? Hmmm, I'll leave that to your imagination

Asmodeus

"Yay! Now there are two MCs to pay attention to me~"

Asmo had just entered The Fall when he saw two MCs looking directly at each other in various stages of shock

To be honest, it would be really impractical to say Asmo hasn't had some experience with doppelgangers with how magnatising he is and his willingness to try new things

Asmo wouldn't be that suprised that some demon was trying to impersonate his cute human because just look at them!!

Because Asmo knows all the finer and slightly intimate details of MC, he would be able to tell the difference between the two with such a minutiae detail as a typically wayward strand of hair on MC's head twisted just the slightest too much

Asmo wouldn't necessarily do anything to the doppelganger himself but he would be quick to give all his attention to the real MC and ignore the fake if they were just trying to use their looks to get closer to him. Punishment served, right?

Beelzebub

Beelzebub was going to the kitchen at night for his routine fridge clean out when he notices MC had already beaten him there

He wasn't really against sharing his snacks but he kind of grows concerned when he watches MC consume a LOT more food than usual. They are eating almost as much as a demon which is kind of unheard of

Beel was just about to approach the fridge to grab something for himself when he sees MC reach for his precious pudding

Beel was going to do the unspeakable and let them have it when he sees another MC enter the kitchen while rubbing the sleep from their eyes

Beel is immediately in his demon form and takes a good sniff of the pudding stealer and can tell that this was NOT his human

The doppelganger was gone before the real MC's eyes were focused enough to even register there was a problem. Beel seems to be picking some bones out of his teeth though so they guess he already got to the leftover shadow hog, huh

Belphegor

When two MCs showed up at his favorite napping spot under at tree in RAD's courtyard, Belphie was too tired to bother with asking questions and just wanted his lap pillow to join him already

When he demanded that they both stop wasting time and sit down, the MCs look at each other with some suspicion and sit on either side of him

Belphie picks a lap at random and plops his head down, burying his head into their stomach

When MC was uncharacteristically stiff, Belphie huffed and got up to change laps. When this MC started to play with his hair gently as they usually did, Belphie shots the imposter a look from his barely cracked eyes

The doppelganger is quick to pardon themselves with some lame fairwell and excuses about one of the other brothers calling them or whatever and run off

Belphie doesn't have the energy to looking the situation right then when his favorite pillow was primed and ready for him, but he does reach out into his dream realm that night and torments the poor imitator with vivid nightmares for months to come

---------

I hope you enjoyed and thank you again for the request! Still open to accepting more prompts so feel free to reach out!

-Leo

[euphxricedits]

Take Me Far Away (AlcinaXReader)

4.5k words

(Warning: Mentions of death)

Chapter 1; Newcomer

Cool air brushed along your smooth skin, your heart beating gently within your chest. You slowly begin to waken due to the light from the sun shining through the small crack of your heavy and mostly closed eyelids. You gently grasp the wool blanket you had placed over your lower half the night before to keep yourself from getting too chilly as you sat there on a creaky, old wooden chair, a cushion being the only thing giving you any amount of comfort, your feet propped up onto a stool. You often allowed yourself to sit outside and watch the stars as you drift off into unconsciousness. It was the only amount of relaxation you were gifted with.

You place your hands gently against both arm rests, giving yourself some assistance sitting up. You reach behind your neck, gently rubbing out the knot that had formed from you sleeping with your neck crooked for the most of the night. Your skin was cold to the touch. Your mouth waters, your eyes widening a bit as your senses were completely consumed with a delicious aroma, breakfast.

Gently moving your feet from the stool, you removed the blanket that covered you. Your feet touch the cold stone, sending shivers throughout your body - a small gasp escaping your rosy lips, probably should have worn some slippers to cover your feet. Your body tenses as you hurriedly walk towards the door to your room, wanting to escape the cold feeling beneath your feet.

As you enter your room, with your peripheral vision you see a figure standing by the foot of your bed. It was Andreea, your personal maid. Your feet stop in their tracks as this woman seemed to be looking you up and down, was she ashamed? Definitely so. You were sick and were yet still allowing yourself to do everything that Doctor Fischer forbid you to do. You walk towards your bed after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence.

"My Lady, You know Lord Varon would not approve of you being out all night, exposed to the piercing cold. It is not good for your health." Andreea informed you, rather stern in fact. Andreea is an older woman, in her 60's. She was one of the only people you could tolerate to be around. She followed your movements as you made your way towards the black clothes that she had displayed for you on your bed.

You couldn't help but let out a dejected sigh - looking over the fabric, gently using only your fingertips, you lazily caress the smooth surface of the gown. Of course you knew the cold was poor for your health, most days you complied with your doctor's requests, but other times, you just felt the need to inhale the fresh, cool air. Your eyes glossed over as you knew the event that was awaiting you, your father's funeral. Your father's death was sudden and the cause of death was ruled an accident. Your father, Petru Floarescu, was a prideful man. He wasn't necessarily kind but he got matters and issues resolved at any extent. On the evening of his death, he had gone gambling with a few other Lords. The night turned sour and - according to the man in charge of the autopsy - your father 'accidentally' toppled over the railing while on the second floor balcony, harming himself in such a way that caused him to die instantly. Of course you were never convinced it was an accident. Your father was one of the richest and most powerful men in this part of the country. You knew how vindictive and greedy the fellow Lords were around these parts. If given the right opportunity, you knew that any man would have had your father heaved and pushed off that balcony. The actions of these greedy men resulted in you becoming an orphan.

Your mother, Marilena Floarescu, had passed away during childbirth - your birth. It was a difficult matter but you grew up well with the help of Andreea. She had practically raised you ever since you were but an infant. Now you were married and she moved with you into this old, lifeless castle nearly six dreadful years ago, living with your husband was definitely not easy. You never liked the man - you never really approved being in the presence of any man besides your father. They were all filthy and perverse, in your opinion.

Nicolae, your husband, was not a kind or gentle man. He didn't seem to care about anything that was not his friends or his money. You were arranged to marry him - without an option, as most women were with your status. Your father was a Lord who married you off to the son of another rich :ord. You resented Nicolae but there was nothing you could do about such a thing, so you focused on other matters such as your painting and music. You loved music, you adored music.

Your attention was taken from your dress as the woman beside you cleared her throat. You quickly glanced over towards her. She could tell by your facial expressions that your mind was running wild with intrusive thoughts.

"Lord Varon wants you to get dressed and meet him for breakfast before you make way to your father's funeral, my Lady." She calmly told you.

You rolled your eyes, looking away at the thought. What could he possibly want to speak to you about? He never even cared for you or your father. He only ever spoke of how foolish your father was. Little did Nicolae know, but he was the foolish of them all - but you weren't about to tell that to him, or maybe you should. "He probably only wishes to see me so he can talk to me more about my father's money that he is to inherit." You snapped a bit, not at the other woman as she had done nothing wrong. You were just frustrated over the entire situation, as you were a woman in this world, you were never to receive these lands unless you were married, therefore making those lands your husbands, not actually yours. Thankfully Andreea knew all too well of the circumstances and completely understood, remaining silent.

You slipped off your robe before Andreea helped you remove your night gown. As you put on this black dress, your mind kept sinking to the horrid thoughts of your father's death, you were going to get answers as to the true events that occurred.

Once you were dressed and your long brown hair was put into an elegant up-do, you made your way towards the dining hall where you were to meet with him. Your heart dreaded seeing him as all he ever did was point out your flaws and practically mock your existence. That or he would simply go on about his friends, whom you had gathered enough knowledge about to know they were not the best influences.

You gently placed your hand against the wooden railing as you descended from the stairs, your lungs felt as though you were about to fall into a coughing fit. The red carpet covering your stairs, preventing your shoes from making too much noise, Andreea following close behind. She was told to stay with you everywhere until you were of good health as Nicolae didn't want the responsibility, which you preferred for you despised being in each other's presence.

As you approached the door to the dining hall. You watched him as he downs a glass of alcohol - typical. He didn't seem to notice your entrance for he was startled when your seat was pulled out for you by, Marius, the family butler. You nodded your head towards the man as if saying 'thank you'. Marius reciprocated the smile before helping you take your seat, pushing in your chair.

Nicolae stood there, watching you with greedy eyes as he placed his now empty glass onto the dark wooden table, creating a loud clank. He apparently seemed to be in a foul mood, shocking to you as he was getting everything he wanted, was he not?

Your food was placed before you, along with your medicine to help you with your illness, paired with a glass of water which you were especially thankful as you really needed something to drink. He spoke, finally, causing you to groan internally. Couldn't he just allow you to eat your breakfast in peace? Apparently not.

"I don't wish to be at the funeral very long. I have other matters that I must attend to." He spoke to you as if this day was an inconvenience to him - you averted eye contact as he spoke, just his voice alone made your skin crawl. You hated him. Everything in the life was about him and what he wanted. He never cared about your father and that much was evident, even more so now.

You gently picked up the fork placed beside your glass plate, and began to poke your cooked eggs with disinterest. "If you're so bent on avoiding my fathers funeral, then simply don't attend, you surely won't be missed." You told him in a slightly harsh tone, glancing up at him with your eyes.

He didn't seem to appreciate your tone very much as he glared at you, his eyebrows scrunched together. He takes a few steps around the table, slowly making his way towards you, his left hand balled into a fist as his other caressed the table, inching towards you menacingly.

You slowly stiffened your posture and raised your chin a bit, looking at him through narrowed eyes. He wouldn't dare touch you - not today.

As his presence grew nearer, there was a voice that came from behind you, stopping Nicolae's movements almost instantly, it was Marius. He held a letter in his hand, his index finger gently drumming on the paper as he had a sense of what he just interrupted and prevented. "Forgive me, my Lord." He takes a glance at you before walking towards your husband. Nicolae was standing there with an annoyed expression plastered on his face, his hand held out before him so he could receive the letter. Once the letter was placed into his hand, he slowly turned away so he could read it in - peace? Apparently so, he wouldn't let you or Marius see the contents of that letter.

You would usually care less about his business but seeing as today was certainly important, the curiosity tugged at you. You watched him carefully, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you picked your food up with your fork. You wanted to see if his movements could give off any sign of anxiety or excitement.

After waiting a few agonizing minutes, he turned and gave you his full attention. He closed and folded the letter in his palm, his knuckles turning white from how hard his grasp was. You were slightly amused at how frustrated he seemed to be. He opened his mouth as if he was about to express his discontentment. Yet again, you averted your gaze and the corners of your lips twitched downward.

He let out an exaggerated sigh however, not saying a single word, which irked you a bit as you were sure that letter had something to do with your father.

You didn't press however and finished your food without speaking a single word before Marius spoke up, breaking the deafening silence, his hands formally placed behind his back. "Your carriage has arrived, the driver is waiting just outside." He announced to the both of you.

You placed down your eating utensils hurriedly before wiping your mouth clean with the napkin provided, scooting your chair out and walking towards the main entrance. You didn't care if Nicolae was accompanying you or not - you had a place to be. Your father may not have been the best man but you still felt that he didn't deserve for this day to become anymore tainted than Nicolae was making it.

As you approached the door, Andreea walked up behind you with your coat, gloves and black hat with thin lace material draping down the front, down to your chin to show you were in mourning. You complied as Andreea assisted with your coat before you slipped your fingers into your gloves. It was quite bleak outdoors as there were clouds slowly starting the hide the sun behind their dark grey silhouette. Marius had the hook of the umbrella's handle safely placed onto his forearm, in case it rained, as he opened the doors. Andreea gently takes your hand as you make your way to the carriage.

You glanced towards your husband as he too seemed to be making his way as well, he was probably only going as it would make him look bad to not attend. This man really cared more about his image than the feelings of his own wife. Pathetic - how much of a pity it would be if they all saw who he really was. The driver opened the carriage door for you, allowing you to enter first. As Nicolae took his seat beside you, you happened to look over and notice as he stuffed the letter that he had received into his coat pocket. You narrowed your eyes at the man before turning your attention towards the window at your left. What could have been in that letter? You chewed nervously onto your inner cheek. You needed to find out what that telegram contained and you would.

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The fire crackled as a well dressed Lady Alcina Dimitrescu walked through her chambers, the heat from the fire place making the room rather toasty as she gathered her gloves. The Countess and her husband, Lord Stefan Dimitrescu, were to attend the funeral of a family friend this day. Of course the Countess had no feelings towards the man who had died as she has never personally come in acquaintance with the man but she was obligated to attend either way as her father requested. This man appeared to have been close friends with her father, apparently business partners as well.

Stefan walked into her chambers, which were separate from his, clearing his throat and standing by the door, watching her grab her gloves. Lady Dimitrescu preferred to keep separate chambers as she couldn't tolerate being around her husband, let alone sleep in the same room. "The last of our bags have been brought in from the carriage." He simply informed her, keeping his sentence short as he knew she was tired from travelling to this new town and she already had more obligations, due to her father ordering her to. Of course her father lived back in a small village making and transporting the family wine, the last few months the Countess and her husband had travelled to supply many people with their best wine and make them even wealthier than they were, which was completely unnecessary considering how they were by definition, extremely rich and wealthy.

As the Countess heard her husbands voice, she stood up straight, stiffening her jaw in frustration.

"I do not understand how attending the funeral of a man whom I have no knowledge of is going to do the family business any good." She snapped before turning to look at the Count who had his arms crossed, his eyebrow raised.

"You know very well we are going to meet people, make new customers. Not everything has to be complicated." He leaned against the door way, raising an eyebrow at her, thinking she was simply just being ridiculous.

"I just don't see the point. I am sure there are rich families around here who hold extravagant parties. A funeral is dull." She stated as a matter of fact before pulling her gloves over her slender fingers, pinching at the fabric until the gloves fit perfectly. She then reached down onto the lounge chair and grabbed, no, snatched her black sunhat. "and do not speak to me as if I am simply being ridiculous, I am not. I see no true value to this town." She snapped a bit.

"You are my wife, or have you forgotten, I shall speak to you in anyway I see fit." He told her, uncrossing his arms, straightening his posture now.

The Countess couldn't help the laugh that forced itself through her crimson lips, her pearly white teeth shown as she exaggeratively mocked her husband. Her demeaner changed instantly into a straight and cold expression. "You humor me, you are no husband." She quirked up an eyebrow as she placed the hat onto her head with disinterest before moving past Stefan, bumping into his shoulder as she forced herself past. She didn't get far however as he reached out, grabbing her forearm and pulled her towards him forcefully, almost knocking off her hat, earning a sudden gasp and glare from the other woman, the maids at the end of the hall were startled as the newly weds seemed to be going through yet another quarrel. They definitely didn't get along. Everyone knew that The Countess had a temper but so did The Count. This was going to result in a very loathsome marriage.

"You will respect me, Alcina." He told her sternly, his voice full of animosity.

Her stomach turned as she heard her name coming from his ungrateful mouth. "You will do your best to keep my name off your tongue. You will call me Madame when addressing me or nothing else." She then glanced down at her arm in which he still had in his grasp. She pulled her arm away and she stepped closer to him, a mere few inches from his face. "If you ever again touch me without my consent I will make sure that is the last time you touch anything." She threatened him in a low and raspy tone. He would not lay his hands on her, she would not permit it. She was of noble blood and she would be treated as such - with respect. She turned away from him before she fixed her composure, running her hands down the front of her dress to smoothen out the fabric, finally allowing herself to move down the hall, the maids followed her down the stairs towards the main hall. She grabbed her large coat that reached the floor, placed it gently and loosely over her shoulders before being escorted out to their carriage. Their bags from travelling were placed on the floor, set to the side so they were not in the way.

As she approached the carriage, Lady Dimitrescu turned to one of the butlers. "Have the rest of my bags brought to my chambers." She ordered to the man, who nodded and began to do just as he was asked.

Stefan followed after a few moments of composing himself. The last thing either of them needed was to attend with funeral, meeting new people, while in an foul mood. That would certainly make for a stressful situation. Once he got into the carriage after her, he noticed how the Countess scooted away from him. She crossed her legs, refusing to make any amount of conversation as they rode off towards their destination.

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You placed your hand gently in the driver's gloved-hand as he helped you out of the carriage, you had just arrived at the grave yard where the ceremony was to take place. You looked around as you stepped out, the water starting to puddle on the ground, thankfully, the driver had the umbrella opened and ready for you. You glanced around, seeing as there were quite a bit of people arriving - not surprising. Petru had many 'friends' and business partners. The driver follows in suit, keeping you dry, small rumbles of thunder echoing through the sky. You followed Nicolae, making your way towards the plot where your father was to be buried. You could see in the distance how his black coffin was already in the hole but had yet to be covered in the dirt. Many people approached you and offered you their condolences. You gave them all a false smile, just wanting to get this ceremony over with. You knew the majority of the people who arrived were all corrupt and you were sure they never cared for your father in the first place, just his status and money.

As you were shaking hands with an older gentleman, you noticed another carriage arriving. The carriage had come to a halt, gaining your full attention as you watched a man, dressed in black, a black coat and top hat climbing out of the carriage, soon followed by a woman also dressed in black, clearly a couple who had come to attend. The woman's face hidden by the shade, casted by her large black sunhat. She stood beneath an umbrella which was held by a second man, most likely her driver. The woman seemed tall, nearly the same height as the well-dressed man, she would certainly be taller than you. You observed the woman carefully. You noticed how she walked with such poise. You had never seen the man in your life, most likely never before have seen the woman either, but for all you knew, your father could have done business with these people in past.

The woman's hidden features drew your interest. You were so preoccupied staring at the woman, you didn't notice as Nicolae slowly approached you from behind, seeing as you stared at what he assumed was the other man. He cleared his throat which immediately caught your attention, you turned to look at him from over your shoulder. "Is there something I can help you with?" You asked him with a hint of distain in your voice.

He looked down at you, glaring as he was clearly jealous. "We are here to mourn your father. Not stare at other clearly married men." He said sternly. Little did he know that it was that man's wife who you were so focused on. what would he care anyways? He didn't care about you. You looked away from him immediately with an apparent frown on your lips, watching as this unfamiliar couple approached you. You couldn't help but be humored as he just assumed it was the man who you were so interested in. As the couple grew closer, Nicolae positioned himself ahead of you so he could introduce himself first.

The man approaching looked at Nicolae and he gave a polite smile "Good morning, I am Lord Stefan Dimitrescu, but please, call me Stefan." The man spoke to your husband, shaking his hand firmly. He then looked over towards the woman beside him who gently held out her hand for Nicolae to greet her. You couldn't see her face as she was facing the men, the angle of her hat blocking the view. Your eyes glanced down at the woman's glove-covered hand as your husband grabbed hers, bringing it to his lips, placing a kiss upon her glove. You happened to notice as the woman held the collar of her coat shut with her other hand. She seemed to have such a delicate touch, and had excellent style, you could not deny. You saw in your husband's eyes as she seemed to be quite breathtaking, only making you want to see her for yourself even more. "This is my wife, Lady Alcina Dimitrescu." Right after this woman's husband spoke, she seemed disinterested as she nonchalantly recoiled her hand. Why did she appear to be so bothered by her husband?

Nicolae gestured to himself first, introducing himself before turning to you. "I am Lord Nicolae Varon and this is my wife, Lady Y/N Varon." He replied. You watched as the other woman turned to finally place her eyes upon you. Her hat moving in a way that allowed her face to graze your sight, the little sun that shines, giving her a sort of glow. You were not at all disappointed in what you saw. This woman made you breathless. Your lips parted slightly in awe, your eyes quickly scanned over the woman's features, your eyes landing on the woman's lips, which apparently didn't go unnoticed as you watched her strict and firm demeanor change slightly, her lips twitching into a nonchalant smirk, the woman's eyes however still narrowed. Her stare pierced your soul, before also looking over your features - you felt a sudden panic. You both looked away towards the woman's husband as he held out his hand to introduce himself to you.

"Lovely to meet you" Stefan told you with a smile. You gave him a gentle nod, placing your hand in his, you tried to be polite and keep your eyes on him as you spoke but you couldn't help but glance at Lady Dimitrescu, seeing as she didn't take her eyes off you once.

"I apologize that we could not have met in better circumstances." You spoke softly.

Stefan looked at his Lady Dimitrescu, who broke attention towards you to returned his. "Yes, It is quite the unusual way to meet someone, we just arrived in town other wise I'm sure we would have met before. How do you know Petru Floarescu?"

"Indeed... Petru was my father." You said simply. You watched as the mans smile slowly faded and his posture straightened.

"Forgive me, I was unaware. I had only assumed his daughter kept his name" He said to her in a bit of a shocked tone.

You nodded your head gently. "I took my husband's last name after we were wed." You informed. You could see in the corner of your eyes as the smirk that was once on Lady Dimitrescu's face had left and her lips tugged downwards after you spoke. "No need to apologize." You simply spoke before you glanced back at the other woman, her demeanor appearing tense. You let out a soft sigh as you averted eye contact. "Excuse me." You spoke to the man and woman, letting them know that you were making an exit from the conversation, turning and walking away - a small frown growing on your face as you thought about your father. As much as you would love to have a conversation with the other woman, you had a funeral to attend. You carefully looked over all the people's faces who had come and taken their seats, seeing now as Lord and Lady Dimitrescu also took their seats. You took your seat at the front of the crowd, Nicolae taking a seat beside you as the ceremony went on. It may have been your father's funeral but for some reason, your mind was persistent on making you think about Lady Dimitrescu. Her beautiful blue eyes, the smoothness of her skin, her crimson - plump lips, This woman appeared to have no imperfections. Her beauty was something that proceeded to tug at your attention for the rest of the ceremony.

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