#its not the features at fault its the features ON MYSELF that i hate

[deceit-and-doubt]

Based on recent @deceit-and-knowledge events

Dear diary

I am apparently a parent, nilly "found" an egg and apparently its our egg.

Therefore I will have a child but I'm weirdly not happy about it, I've been craving little ones for so long and now I have one I'm unhappy, I hurt him with my reaction but I can't explain why I feel the way I do.

Candy apple cookie being mad at me doesn't help either.

It frustrates me I'm not excited, I'm going to be a dad? I have a child on the way even if it's an egg.

It's a gorgeous egg too. I'm not sure if the "finding it" is a lie or he found an egg and it's probably my fault. He could've laid it for all I know, I mean we did.. y'know diary a fair few times now but He IS a beast cookie and we do possess animalistic feature, he's a bird and I myself have wolf or dog like ones and some snake ones. I AM NOT A CAT! I'm a snake, my tongues even forked like one. My eyes are slits like one.

I'm not sure where "cat" came from outside of me purring. Because my paws are from being a wolf. But I'm rambling, my head is just FILLED with many thoughts but it's hard to talk to cookies about it.

I'm not used to not lying and being "soft" yuck. Trust me I want to close up and be mean like I previously stated but it's hard, nilly broke me.

Is love that powerful? Because I do love him dearly.

Sure I'm mean to him at times but it's just how I am.

I hate my emotions.

[hopesangelsprite]

Daddy's Home

Pairing: Ken Sato x Black!Reader

Summary: You show up at Ken's place after a he's had a hard day of being Ultraman, Kenji Sato, and a dad. How can you fault him for needing a bit of relief?

Warnings: Grinding, hair pulling, suggested sex, just mild spicy time :)

Your knuckles had barely touched the door a second time before you were pulled into Ken's condo. You didn't have time to adjust to the dim lighting, face buried into his broad chest instantly as he breathed in your scent. "You finally made it.", he groaned as he begrudgingly separated from you, "Thought you'd forgotten about me, baby.". A gentle smile kissed your features as you took him in; his eyes were dimmer than usual, tired and weary behind mischief. "I could never forget about you, Kenny.", you cooed as you stepped out of your shoes and into the slippers he'd bought just for you.

Kenji trailed behind you like a lost puppy as you traversed further into his home, familiar with its layout despite the darkness. "Babygirl's asleep?", you inquired as you sat on his sofa. He followed suit, sitting closer to you than usual. Kenji nodded while leaning into the couch's back, eyes shut and brows knit. You looked him over once more, bottom lip caught between your teeth. Though he was stressed and clearly tense, he hadn't let himself go at all. His physique looked damn near ethereal under the simple white tee and joggers he'd donned for the night.

A gentle hum left you as you shifted your body to straddle him, gathering your braids so they wouldn't get caught between the two of you. Kenji cracked an eye open before fully locking his gaze on you. You continued to adjust yourself, purposefully settling directly over his crotch while raking a hand through his damp hair. "Another cold bath?", you pressed to which he nodded with eyes inspecting your free hand. He tangled his digits between yours and looked over your nails with a chuckle. "Is this the set that's supposed to match my uniform?", he asked to which you nodded, "You did a damn good job."

Heat crept up your neck at his compliment, seeping into your core as he kissed your knuckles and wrist. You untangled your fingers from his and placed both hands on his face. Kenji closed the distance between you two, your lips locking in a hot and heavy kiss. His hands traveled down your back to rest on the swell of your ass. A deep groan rumbled through his chest as he pulled you down on his lap fully and began guiding your hips over his growing erection at a steady pace. "You know I hate it when you hover, princess.", he spoke as he trailed kisses across your jawline and neck, "I want all of you, all the time.".

Quiet whimpers were all you could muster in between your own assault on his neck. As your teeth scraped over a particularly sensitive spot near his ear, Kenji moaned and gripped your ass roughly causing your dress to ride up past your hips. "Not tonight, baby.", he hissed while tugging your head back by your braids, "Gonna take care of you real nice now that I've got you all to myself.". You bit your lip in hopes of stifling an uncharacteristically loud moan from escaping you at the feeling of your panty covered cunt dragging over his sweatpant-clad bulge. If he kept this up, you might wake the baby.

Kenji released your throat with a wet pop, reconnecting your lips so fervently that your teeth nearly clashed. Every sound the two of you made was swallowed by the other. You'd quickened the pace of the steady grind, feverishly riding him through his sweats in an attempt to chase your own high.

"Come on, baby, I know you're close.", he coaxed after you'd separated once more. Another wave of heat washed over you as you watched him lean back to observe how much of a mess you were becoming. "B-but I wanna make you feel good, too, K-kenny!", you half whined as your hips began to slow with growing shame.

Kenji's hands flew to your hips again, grip bruising the soft flesh, as he pulled you against him with more speed and pressure. "Don't worry about me. Just cum for me like a good girl.", he ordered before pulling your face into the crook of his neck to further coach an orgasm out of you. The deep timber of his voice, his scent, the pulsing of his cock through his pants, and the filthiness of the words he was whispering into your ear became far too much for you rather quickly.

You buried your face deeper into his neck to muffle your moans as the coil inside your tummy snapped, your arousal leaking from your panties onto his joggers. Kenji slowed your grinding, hand rubbing up and down your sides as you gradually stopped trembling once you'd come down. "See, look at how easy that was, princess! You don't ever have to worry about coming before me.", he playfully scolded you as you looked away embarrassedly. Kenji chuckled before kissing over the hickey's he'd previously made while his hands busied themselves with taking off your soaked panties. His kisses climbed higher and higher until his lips grazed the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

"In fact, we'll be coming together over and over real soon."

[gaysindistress]

Heretics and Flesh Devotees

Based on the poem Anorexic by Eavan Boland

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/pinterest and collaged on canva

pairings: azriel x fem!reader

Summary: Flesh is heretic. My body is a witch. I am burning it. And I am burning the man who condemned me to such a fate.

Warnings: mentions of abuse (not detailed), mentions of misogyny (not detailed)

Word count: 2.2k

Gaysindistress masterlist | azriel masterlist

My body has never been mine. It’s been owned, sold, bought, and branded by others time and time again. My body has never been mine to command and control as the authority in my life has. It’s disgusting to think that in the years since my birth, my body, my soul, and my will has been placed into the hands of others.

As a babe it was my parents although they did try to be gentle and kind. Their faults were found in the ones they left to care for me. The awful creatures hated me for a name I did not choose and wished their hearts’ cruelest desires onto me. As one would assume those desires became my reality as I grew older and started to fight back against them. Their words hurt but they bounced off where they once slashed. Their look stung where they once left burn gashes. Their foul intentions felt like flicks on my nose where they once felt like I’d been beaten to a pulp.

My body still wasn’t my own even though when I prayed for it to be returned to me. Boys who felt entitled to looks and touches tried to lay their claim to me. Men who felt like they deserved praise for caring for me tried to demand me in payment for their actions. Too jaded against it all, I turned to a creature that would prove to be far worse than any boy or man I could’ve been gifted to.

The creature I thought I would safety in begged for my eternal devotion and demanded that I give over whatever I could. He made me into a prisoner and my body into a witch that worshipped him.

Every molecule that made up my body, mind, and heart screamed when I began to fight against its urges. The enormity of my own craving made me sick when I wailed at the scorching of my secret ministrations.

At night, I poisoned my mind when it thought of him. I bruised my limbs when they carried me towards him. I broke what I had to when I tried to search for him. I destroyed myself over and over again until the thought of him made my stomach turn and my skin crawl.

The sick version of me tried to bend me and sent fever throughout me. In my delirium, her half truths felt like the sweetest angelic hymns. Whispering into my ear, she tried to coax me into slipping back into my old solutions.

I renounced her honeyed voice and vomited out her milky words. I renounced her hungered tongue and spat out her name along with his. I fused the flames that came when I thought of him with the spite I conjured and burned the bitch alive from the inside out.

Morphed into a starved and twisted soul, I laughed when he began to resent me. It took him months to realize that something had changed within me. I was no longer painted with soft edges and stunning features but carved into a curveless piece of skin and bone that mocked him. At dinners and events thrown in his favor, I sipped at my rotten wine while the women among me gossiped the state of my marriage. They did not utter a single word for how I seemed to be fairing but how the once holy union between him and I seemed to be slipping.

I sipped at the foul liquid until it stained my lips a violent shade of calculated vengeance. I pretended to swallow entire bottles and postured drunkenness so they would think I couldn’t hear the things they confessed to.

My husband’s heavy stare always found me as I slumped further and further into my chair, allowing him to believe that my pain to consumed me. The hungry leery he masked with an adoring gaze had faded into disappointment and disgust, so much so that eventually he stopped looking altogether. No longer did he pull me into his lap, his Herculean arms caging me in falsified comfort and demand to know what was bothering his beautiful wife.

Instead he found younger and more attractive women to watch and eventually fill his time with. Instead a young woman, borderline girl, with flowing locks of auburn hair and gentle curves became his new hobby.

Thin as a rib, my knife slept under my pillow. The feverish bitch within me cried and cried as she watched me plot his demise. It pained the other within me that withered and gasped for air to think I could even contemplate such a scenario.

Could I truly commit murder?

Could I truly force my husband to shuffle off this mortal coil?

The dueling fates were soon quilled when I turned in sleep to find claustrophobia looming over me. His warm body threatened to suffocate me while the haunting sound of his inner thoughts filled the breadth between us. Once I had been pulled into slumbers embrace by his heart beat’s gentle drum and quiet song of his breath but now it closed in on me and pressed.

I could not muster the strength to find my rib like knife nor move it from its hiding place. I promised myself only a few more days of this torture. Only a few more nights of slipping back into his bed before I set myself free.

I hadn’t intended on waiting for another few weeks but an uninvited guest coiled my plan into nothingness.

Azriel the Shadowsinger.

He arrived just as his name implied; as silently as the night and slithered his way in without resistance. He was a man born with charmed words that dripped from his silver tipped tongue and slid between pearly white teeth. A man known for his third eye, the Truth-Teller, that when he showed up on our doorstep, my husband begged him to stay for fear of his wrath. Like a shadow, he was present in every crevice of the house and was not seen. My husband’s ego got his way, tripping him up as he stumbled to accommodate Azriel, the embodiment of shadows with violent hazel eyes.

The woman my husband found to be my replacement took her role before I was revealed. Instead I was whisked away into a room hidden deep within the compound. She played the dutiful host and doted on her guests. She donned the gowns once crafted for me and wore the jewelry I previously did. She laughed at the jokes the men made and smiled sweetly at the husband she desired but would never love. She became the wife and I hated to see another take my place for I knew what awaited her.

I wanted to spare her. I tried to spare her but my efforts were in vain. She cried out when I told her to leave. She screamed when she saw my knife meant my husband. She fell into it when I tried to pull away from her ivory grasp.

As I said, I hadn’t intended on becoming into the personification of destruction but it was inevitable when I was given no other choice.

Blood drips from me and hits the floor beneath me with a deafening loudness as my husband stares at me.

A single question hangs in the air; “What have you done?”

“What have I done?” I calmly ask, arching a brow at the man who stands and dares to judge me. “The better question is what did you make me do.”

It’s a disgusting sight to behold; him pretending that I’m nothing more than a body of mangled bones and broken convictions molded by him. Dark as night and deafening as the ever present silence that fills when you’re dying, his gaze tries to weigh me down and fails.

Azriel smiles when he senses my anger and he becomes a conduit of my emotions as the twin sinister glint to mine flickers in his dark eyes. He reclines against the rotting wood walls like a feline would; regal and untouchable but lethal all the same.

My husband throws a glance to the blood that is pooling around me with disappointment before speaking, “Your actions are your own. Take responsibility for the carnage that you have created for once in your pathetic life. This is all your fault, y/n.”

My eyes narrow at his choice of words.

Take responsibility? My fault?

Fitting that he would choose to say that I need to take the blame for the actions I committed because of him. He had been the one to deem me an object to be bought and sold. He had been the one to make me in his image and create a wife he felt was worthy of him. He had been the one to turn my body into a heretic and I had no other choice but to burn her at the stake.

“Husband,” I start as I take a step forward while he takes one back, “What I have done is only because you forced my hand. Every drop of blood, scream ripped from raw throats, tears shed have been because of you.”

Azriel’s terrifying chuckle rings through the room, causing the remaining members of my husband’s house to drop their heads and hide their fear. The blood of their new lady of the house fills the room with a coppery stench and some have taken to covering their faces with their collars. As Azriel around the room, his chest swells with pride at the terror that he’s caused in them but it stills when he lands on me.

A creature who’s grown angular and unholy in the confines of her husband’s cage.

He smiles as he lets his dagger like eyes to slash across my frame.

“Enough of whatever petty martial bullshit this is about,” he dismisses with boredom thick in his voice. “You took something from me and I want it back.”

My husband attempts to fix the situation but the guest cuts him off.

“I said enough,” he seethes, gritting out the words between clenched teeth. The action tightens and sharpens his already pronounced jaw, giving him the appearance akin to a statue.

Within seconds my coward of a husband is lying on the ground, crying and begging for his lord as the Lord of Bloodshed, Cassian, stands over him with his siphons glow a brilliant red.

“Please I don’t have it. I swear I don’t have it!” he begs while the bigger man growls before landing a swift kick to his stomach. “Take whatever you want, please. Anything and it’s yours.”

Cassian looks to Azriel and awaits his judgment. Azriel has not looked away from me this entire night. He’s still locked in on me as he nods. Cassian bends down and grips my husband by the neck, hauling him up so high his feet dangle helplessly below him.

“That’s a dangerous deal you’ve just made.”

My husband begs and begs for his own life but not for mine or even the wife he replaced me with as she lays on the floor in a pool of blood.

“If only I believed you,” Azriel sighs, “but I don’t and I’m not in the mood to hear any more of your lies.”

“Y/n..” my husband turns his pleading to me but I interrupt him with a roar of anger.

“Enough,” I hiss at him, rage boiling in my veins, “You used and manipulated me for years. I was nothing but a toy to brought out when you grew bored. You’ve shoved me off to the side and pushed me to my breaking point but now that the consequences are coming for you, you turn to me and expect me to help.”

Azriel has taken to prowling towards me now that my calm facade has dropped. He stalks me like an apex predator would their prey.

“Did you hear that, princess?” He poses the question to me and only me. “He’s offering you up like a prized goat when he could just give me what he took. That’s not very nice now is it? Seems a bit selfish doesn’t it?”

I attempt to sneak a glance at my husband but he catches my chin in a tight grip, “Don’t look at them, look at me.”

And I do. I’m met with a torrid stare that calls to that divinely angular and starving creature within me.

“You can have her! Take her, please! Please just don’t kill me,” my husband cries out as if I’ll be his saving grace. The sounds are muffled as the utter chaos that lives within Azriel’s heart soothes me into the fall.

I fall into the forked tongued embrace of this devilish man.

I fall into the need of a python that wraps itself around us both.

I fall into the heaving breaths that lunge my chest up and down as I stare at his lips.

I fall into the visions of heat, sweat, gluttony, and lust that awaits us.

Azriel visibly cringes before me at my husband’s words but waits for me.

“Well princess?”

“I want my freedom,” I demand and he flashes me a disastrously beautiful smile.

“Of course,” he promises me. “Of course, princess.”

[okayto]

Musings on my week driving a recent automatic car while my decade+-year-old manual was in the shop

Must keep reminding myself NOT to touch the gear shift while driving. Spend a lot of driving time with my right arm clutched to my chest to avoid this.

Relatedly: WHERE is my CLUTCH. My left foot is so lonely.

I hate this wireless key fob. Petrified I will somehow lock it in the car. I have ADHD, I like the physical connection between "key in/out" and "car on/off."

I have to keep jumping out of the car because I left my garage door button in my car, in the shop. That's not the automatic's fault, but it's part of the experience.

Having volume and track skip buttons affixed to the steering wheel is cool.

Having to tap on a screen that requires LOOKING instead of feeling via buttons if I want to switch between music sources is NOT cool. Have given up listening to the radio all week so I'm left with just my phone's music so I don't have to bother with a touchscreen while driving.

Backup camera is cool.

Still keep reaching to shift gears and catching myself.

My car's sound system is so much better. (But this may be because my parents changed settings, according to my father. Regardless, I had to spend a week suffering. I like having working speakers in the doors.)

A giant advantage of an automatic is it doesn't get bouncy-jerky when you're stuck in slow traffic. I do know this; one of the reasons I don't mind mine is that I've spent the majority of its life as a shift worker who mostly avoids getting stuck in rush hour.

I know that the incessant beeping when the passenger isn't wearing a seat belt is a safety feature but I need it to SHUT UP when I'm driving a student worker 1.5 blocks to their dorm at 5 mph.

Lane departure warning beeps are appreciated like 30% of the time. The rest of the time it's...idk misreading or just the lines themselves were done badly.

This engine is noticeably more powerful than mine and I am LOVING the acceleration. Vroom vroom.

Car is also bigger, and thus noticeably heavier than mine. Acceleration aside, it's weird to feel the weight while steering, and I have to be careful when turning in tight spaces.

WHERE IS MY CLUTCH *phantom stomps while trying not to grab gearshift*

Getting my car back and it feels incredibly light and agile. Also: my default sound system, I love you.

Car please stay alive forever I don't wanna permanently adjust to another car with a sad lack of buttons.

[rynnthefangirl]

From my personal point of view, the hatred towards Rhaenyra's first three sons on the part of these toxic daemyra stans it's ridiculous and hypocritical. As a book fan and team black stan I never expected this.

Of course you may dislike a character, whether by its actions or caracterization, however DESPISE the Velaryon boys only... just because? From what I saw the main reasons of these people to hate them are:

They're a stain on daemyra's relationship.

They are bastards, they deserve to be treated like trash you know.

And lastly (more pathetic at least for me) the Velaryon boys "steal the spotlight" from Aegon and Viserys. These toxic stans cannot stand the fact that the "plain featured bastards" are much more popular in the fandom than their "precious valyrian babies"

But how is that the boys's fault? At a certain point I can understand, sometimes the fandom can be insufferable with the fanaticism towards a certain character, sometimes it's annoying. That has led me to distance myself from certain fandoms, but that doesn't mean I'm going to spread viceral hate towards the character itself and much less for such silly reasons like these people do.

These toxic fans claim that it's painful to see how Aegon and Viserys are mistreated by the fandom, which is true, I saw that kind of behavior in some black stans. But COME ON they are doing the same with the eldest brothers of the boys they claim to adore, creating discord and imaginary scenarios where these five brothers hate each other.

Absolutely!!!

The thing is too, I am very much coming at this from the perspective of someone who 100% prefers Daemyra's boys over the Velaryon boys. They are the characters I am more drawn to, I find them more interesting, I'm biased in their favor. I would love for the fandom to favor them and talk about them more.

But like.... why would I hate their brothers??? It's not THEIR fault Aegon and Viserys are underrated. Tbh I blame HOTD for aging the boys down so much and taking away their Dance character arcs. Less content and screentime is of course going to make it so the fandom doesn't care about them as much. But the same thing is true of Joffrey, who has been shoved to the side just as much as A&V. As for Jace, he has an active role to play in the war, of course they are going develop his character more. And Luke's death starts the war in earnest, so of course he needed development. I see no reason to blame those two any more than to blame every other character that gets more screen time. If anything, it is the GREENS who hog all the focus, making it so that the spare time allotted the Blacks has to be focused on a select few characters, causing A&V to get shoved to the side. Keep Jace the same, less freaking Rhaenicent, and more Aegon the Younger, I say!!!!

Above all though, just it coming from TB stans is what amazes me. I expect all this from TG, but TB...

[fleshengine]

growing up hypersexual is such bs because now as an adult I can't feel any kind of "non standard" sexual attraction without a healthy dose of shame and self hate. It's not even the hypersexuality itself, it's the fact that I got into a lot of weird kinky shit when I was a kid and didn't have any real sex ed aside from "this is how sex works." I had no appropriate response other than "this is gross and I can't tell anyone I'm into it." My options were abstinence, and all the weird feelings around that, or indulging in it and feeling ashamed. Unironically tumblr and its kink positivity posts have been really good for me because I've destigmatized a lot of that to myself.

I've heard a lot that in populations who feel like they're not allowed to express sexual desire, rape and kidnap fantasies are very common. They offload the effort of admitting attraction, and the fault of desire onto another person and that lets them experience desire free of shame. It manifests in the popularity of stories featuring that, think the bodice rippers of old, Twilight, and "my mom sold me to One Direction" fanfics. But also, think about how many queer people are into cnc.

Where was I going with this... Oh right! I'm over a lot of my direct sexual shame, there's still a bit but I can ask people directly if they want to have sex. What I'm not over is shame around certain kinks. I'm at the "fantasy of force" stage with that. I fantasize about people forcing me to call them certain things. I don't want to have a conversation, I don't want to work it out beforehand, I don't want to do any of the adult shit involved. It's the kink equivalent of a rape fantasy.

I don't think I'm stuck like this. But I do think that it's a lot of effort to come around on things like this and occasionally there are shortcuts you can take. Drop enough hints and people might ask you about something directly, then whether you want to or not your reaction will speak for you. It's not the best way, and you can't get mad if they don't pick up. But it does get the conversation started, and from there it's a lot easier to have a grown up conversation about it.

I'm not going to pretend like I'm enlightened or know the right way to do any of this bs. I'm in the trenches, I don't know what I'm doing. I'm trying to overcome two decades of shame and assimilationist thinking. If I sound stupid stop listening, I don't know what I'm talking about, I'm just talking because I have thoughts.

[joja-dropout]

“when he’s explicitly fat in canon” and the “canon” in question is a handful of pixels… lmao? anyway do NOT apologize to those rude anons, you’ve done nothing wrong. keep drawing what you want to draw forever and always, and also i love you.

I love you too sm anon sjdksjsjjs

It’s stupid looking at it now. I’m obviously sensitive as hell and I feel like people look at me sideways because of it- but I try to be nice to everyone because I know what it’s like to go through the worst (why I love and relate to Shane so much) so it always gets to me when someone decides to jump to being hateful on my art. I don’t mind a critique coming from a genuine place but when it’s misdirected anger it does hurt my feelings. Again. I’m very sensitive and that’s my fault I think LOL but I’ve always been that way.

But yes, Shane is a set of pixels! That’s all! I’d like to think sure, he’s out of shape/chubby to a degree and I love seeing how everyone draws him. It’s okay to have a preference or headcanon, I think we should attack artists for it though. It’s so easy to move on or to be kind. You never know what someone is dealing with, so let this be my first and maybe?? Only time reminding you to just move on about your day and be kind to people.

(TW- depression/death)

Furthermore- I’ve known many alcoholics in my family who were also severely depressed. When my dad was murdered (I was 5) my grandfather became a heavy, depressed alcoholic. On the outside, you’d have never known, but his body was frail and on the skinnier side and he had a small gut- nothing insane- from drinking. Liver damage will cause you unexplained weight loss; his liver ended up being removed since it no longer worked. When you quit drinking, sure, you will often gain weight heavily.

I myself hardly drink, but I know all about alcoholism and its effects from watching it first hand. I also love all body types- so my intent would never be to minimize or diminish a character’s appearance whether it’s their weight, skin, facial features, etc.

With a pixel character, I do feel it’s a bit harder to capture a likeness since it’s left open to artist interpretation- but I believe every version I’ve seen of all SDV characters is amazing and I’m always in awe of what everyone comes up with in their style. I struggle to find likeness when I draw characters- and maybe it’s an internal thing- but my account is a safe space for everyone with any body type or even just a head canon about certain characters.

[daifukuch4n]

I always wanted to tell that to my special person but I simplily can't. Thats just to have it on smwhere ik its too long and nobody cares lol

As an introduction, I don't like to talk about myself, and in fact, I haven't done so with anyone. My parents know the most superficial and visible aspects of things, in some cases without even going that far. I feel like I'm playing the victim, and even though these are things that hurt me, as I say them, I don't want them to sound insignificant or exaggerated. Also, since I've never said these kinds of things, the thought of someone knowing these things about me distresses me. It's a part of me that seems unreal that anyone could ever know, and it makes me uncomfortable to have to make someone feel worried because I don't know if I really caused this or if just by saying it, they'll see me as sick.

...

I hate my lack of motivation. I don't know what state I'm in, all I know is that I've been depressed for two years without even having the necessary attitude for the things I enjoy. I haven't watched any series, movies, or music. I've stopped even knowing what my tastes are. All of this happening during such an important phase of development and discovery as adolescence, where you stop just following your parents' lead, has made me a boring person. This attitude doesn't stay as intense; I can occasionally enjoy games or watching series. But it's still difficult for me, and in most cases, I only play games to share them with people close to me, something I couldn't do before, not even having any friends or acquaintances, and it was a major trigger for acting this way.

...

I don't like my past. It's confusing because, in a way, I know it's something that isn't my fault, but it still embarrasses me immensely. I didn't have any friends throughout high school, and I'm not talking about close ones, just any kind. I didn't have anyone; I didn't talk to anyone in class, or text or call when I got home. I didn't have any extracurricular activities either. I haven't explicitly been bullied or anything like that, but I was always treated as a laughingstock. They asked me questions about my interests in an exaggerated way, they only sought me out to answer stupid questions, and they made fun of me for my occasional complaining, because that's something I don't usually do. I know it's something people never did with malice; they would just see it as a laughable thing they could use and then forget about. It's not like I really cared, or at least that's what my brain made me believe, unless I was feeling down I wouldn't notice, but it was more hurtful when my ex-friends did it.

...

I don't have any problem with certain facial features, and slanted eyes aren't a pretty sight, but on me, it's something I truly hate with all my being. Every day I see myself in a different way, whether it's in the mirror, unguarded photos, deliberate photos, reflections. It's as if my face changes completely in each one. When I think I look fine before leaving the house, someone takes a picture of me and I'm literally disgusted to see myself. And I insist I don't have a problem with these types of eyes, but on me, I'm a kind of strange mixture that makes people think when they see me, and this is backed up by facts, that I have an exotic or strange face. Besides, it's not just that they're slanted; there are actually times when I see them one way or another. It's as if that were my obsession, in a bad way, that my face would become deformed, and I really wouldn't know how to say what I look like. It's something that makes me angry because no matter how much makeup or angles in the photos, there's nothing I can do to change it and I feel terrible not for myself but for the people who have to look at me or be around me who are close to me.

...

I think I can suppress my nervousness a bit in social situations, but that doesn't mean I lack social skills. What bothers me the most is how boring I can be. I don't know how to bring up conversation topics, and that's partly due to my sense of self-identity, which I've explained before. I know the few people I have around me now are going to leave, and I'm already surprised they haven't already. Well, even though this is plural, it's more directed at one person. I'm truly going to feel deeply that you've had to put up with me and deal with me.

...

When I changed schools, my expectation was to be diligent and studious and continue on my path of not having friends. I no longer saw the point in having friends. I had lost the sense of sharing, of living together, and of how wonderful it is to be able to talk to people or have someone to count on. I suppose this feeling will stay with me, but just as in the past, when I had friends and forgot about it, I have no doubt it could happen again. After all, I'm going to end up like this, and I know that the way I am, I'll soon be alone again. But this time, I know it will be more painful. I don't want to go back to living without someone to tell the silly things of everyday life to. I don't want to stop having inside jokes. I love being able to talk and share hobbies with whoever I love. They are very simple things, but they have truly made me very happy and given me life. But I know it's a reality, and in a way, it's positive. Now that I know how my life will work, the blow won't be so hard.

...

My parents were aware, though I didn't say it directly, but they did know about my situation. Because if I don't leave the house, I don't invite anyone to my birthday parties, and my contacts are empty, they can see I have no friends. And based on this, I've always felt angry about a certain issue. I understand that it might not be so obvious to outsiders, but for them, who know a bit about me, it seems unrealistic. I don't know if it's because they don't want to face it, but even the doctors worriedly asked me, "Did you really get it with a tile?" A cut on my left wrist, with my mental state, during summer vacation, about to start a new school, and with free time to remind you that you have nothing to do during this period. I don't want to go into details about this; it's the greatest shame I feel toward myself. I don't want to say that the people who did this would have the same perspective. But seriously, even if I tried to hide it, I think a minimum of concern for the situation would have been good.

...

You're the person I care about most, and telling you these things isn't just embarrassing; I wish I could erase them. You don't deserve me. I'm a disgusting person who, I'm sure, will come around in time and realize. I want happiness for you, and I'll do everything I can to give it to you, but I'm a person who doesn't deserve your presence, and I know life won't be long in taking that away from me. And it's not a bad thing; besides, I've been living with it for a long time, and I'm fine. I know how to deal with it. I'm sorry for being this way.

[semi-sketchy]

And that's Sonic Lost World 3DS.

My feelings towards it are basically the same as the console version. Not bad, there's some good here, but the experience is a mixed bag.

I think some exaggerate the level length. Yes, near the end I was spending 10+ minutes, but I was expecting 20+ by reviews. I never once timed out on a level, though I definitely sweated it on a couple occasions, most of the time it was because I was having trouble with a section.

Which, yeah this game was difficult for me. The level design looks simple, like if it was the console version I'd get it easily, but it's something about how it controls. Sonic just has two set speeds and not a lot of weight, so I found myself over and undershooting jumps a lot, spinning in the air trying to land on the platform, or just not thinking a jump was possible. I think the devs knew this was rough as the later worlds are packed with extra lives and a shitton of rings, there's no way you're getting a game over on the latter half.

Of course, the Wisp focused levels are the worst. I hate how they control. Legit NONE OF THEM EVER stop moving. This means you're playing games with the camera, trying not to careen off a cliff. I didn't like the Wisps in the console version or Colors DS, but my god this was worse.

The camera also was not helpful. You cannot adjust it at all in this game, so it mostly follows behind Sonic in 3D seconds. On the spheres, it snaps something awful. If those weren't smaller contained sections, the game would be completely unplayable just due to motion sickness. Outside of that, I actually got lost in a few stages because the camera wouldn't turn to show me where to go and there weren't rings to guide me.

Maybe it's my fault for playing in 2D, but I also had a hard time judging depth, which made things worse.

Although, it's made me realize the 3DS screen is too small for 3D Sonic. Yes, it zooms out to give you scope plenty, he has a drop shadow for platforming, but it's so few pixels it can be hard to see. Actually, the low resolution makes quite a few things hard to make out, something I think you'll easily miss if you emulate the game.

I think the worst thing is the homing attack just not functioning half the time, causing me to kick at items, bounce when staring directly at an enemy, just double jump or flat out ignore my input. I haven't had this much trouble with the homing attack since the Adventure era games, or Rush for that matter.

As far as Dimps games go, I did notice this has less pits than usual. I'd fall and land on a lower path quite a bit. I kinda felt clever for a bit, until I realized they weren't alternate paths, just jumped and skipped the entire bottom section, which loops right to the beginning of the upper section. That said, I actually think these levels are well designed, it's just the controls and length that kills it.

I think if the levels were broken up into smaller bits instead of them focusing on having only 3 stages and one boss per world, it would've been better. Like the Wii U had bonuses for gimmicks, meanwhile the gimmicks here are in the main level, like it or not.

That snowboarding section wowed me, I'd like to try other paths and see what I missed, but I don't want to spend 8 minutes in a level for it. I think the beginning of the snowball puzzle was also cool! Until it dragged on for 18 minutes (yeah that's the longest stage). Rail grinding was awesome, but should've been set to its own stage without the required enemy locks. The Wisp's introduction level should not also feature the mastery of it, but it does because that's basically the only time it's used (quake, just know there's a special place in hell for you). If they simply divided it up, I think as a whole the experience would've been improved.

Again, some good ideas, interesting concepts, but how it's structured and utilized drags it down. It's a mediocre game, much like it's console brethren.

Alright, only one game left on the 3DS I haven't played and that's Fire & Ice. I liked Shattered Crystal alright (always gotta remember it's moreso a platforming metroidvania rather than a Sonic game) and this is supposedly better, so I'll see.

[sieglinde-freud]

5, 17, 23 for the blorbo ask game!

omg hiii!!! ty for the ask :)

5. what’s the thing you dislike the most about your Blorbo?

the thing about inigo is that i think all of his flaws are fucking hilarious and they give me ammo for all my jokes so honestly not much. i could say his nah support but thats like. not even his fault? i think i’ll say that his inability to take no for an answer immediately is pretty bad though. because he’s not real, it IS funny. but if he were… red flag! (though!! i will say he would still be a red flag regardless of whether or not he knew when to back off. hes got some issues to deal with. aim higher ladies!!) sending soleil to the baby oven is also pretty bad. noncanon to me tho fuck that shit

17. do you like seeing your Blorbo suffer?

i have pages and pages of drafts dedicated to inigo crying. however i will say i do not like seeing all of my blorbos suffer. for example if mina harker has one more bad day on earth after all of that, i WILL kill myself. if ekko never gets his happy ending i WILL take my life. if lindsay total drama gets snubbed from another season i WILL be found dead on the floor. roland glenbrook should suffer more

23. is your Blorbo a victim of badly written script / bad plot / character assassination in the hands of canon?

for inigo i would say no? i mean you could argue that both awakening and fates (especially fates) give him the short end of the stick in terms of story relevance but aside from ignoring the hidden truths dlc in the main story, i really do think he’s one of the best written characters in the 3ds era of fire emblem and also modern fire emblem in general (i’ll hold off from saying fire emblem overall bc i still havent really messed around with judgral or archanea games). his supports in awakening are the funniest in the game, his fates portrayal is soooo well done, and his features in the dlc for both games are fantastic. even in heroes, he’s somehow a fairly common recurring character (relative to others!) that has NEVER gotten butchered in forging bonds or in the castle dialogue or in his voice lines. imo he really only has 3 real stinkers in support conversations (noire, nah, hana) and its not really ever a fault of his. love him!

for blorbos who i do think got screwed over by canon i think i’d say ekko and lindsay and maybe kinda ema skye… some people would say roland got screwed over and to some extent i agree but i think him being problematic is something you just have to roll with and if you cant handle that you’re not a real a roland fan! I AM!!! I HATE HIM!! (i gave him all my resources and he still sucked)

[themrswallace]

“Wallace! Wallace stop! You’re going to hurt someone”

‘The were rabbit continues looking for things to throw, plucking every car from its driveway, plant pot, street light. Ripping tiles from rooftops and pipes from the side of houses’

“You want to break something, I’m right here! Hurt me instead! Please! Anything but this!”

‘The beast stops and glares over its shoulder’

“You’re scaring everyone, you’re scaring us…this isn’t you. You’re not a monster…”

‘Let’s out a warning of a growl’

“Wallace, please. I know you’re there, you can hear me”

‘Pupils flicker’

“You’re angry, of course you are, how can you not be…”

‘Gromit hides in the ally, parked safely in the shadows’

“I found your journal…I’m so sorry…you’ve every right to hate me for what I did…”

‘Fluffles watches through the monitors in the basement’

“It felt like the only choice, but it wasn’t. I could have come to you! I know that now! You’d have done something”

‘The townsfolk hide nearby’

“All those years, you looked for me, you waited, I found the presents, the birthday cards, the clothes, you never stopped waiting for me…you never stopped…”

‘The rabbit turns and begins to stomp toward’

“Why do you think I came back? It was to save you, you big idiot! Everything was the protect you! It always has been! But that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to be angry! Of course you are, I just wished you’d said something…guess neither of us are good at communication…please…stop this”

‘The rabbit bares its teeth’

“If this is what you need to do, do it, but don’t punish the town for my mistakes, don’t punish the people who love you. Punish me, I can take it. I’ll heal myself a thousand times for you to break me all over again, if this brings you back to me, go right head. I’m yours, baby. And I’m not going anywhere. I’ll die before I ever leave you again. You can trust me on that…”

‘The were rabbit reaches them, roaring so loud it shakes the ground, snarling as DL rests their hands on its face’

“If someone had told me this is what would become of you, I’d have never left…I shouldn’t have anyway but, it kills me to see you so upset, Wallace…”

‘The were rabbit continues to snarl streams of hot air’

“I made you into this…this is my fault…this is all my fault…’

‘The reality of their choices finally hits them, DL hangs their head as tears begin to leak down their cheeks’

“What’ve I done? I just wanted to protect you…now look. Wallace, please come back to me…dunno what I’ll do if you don’t…you’re everything to me…you’re my whole world, even if it doesn’t feel that way, you are. I promise, I’ll never run away again. I’ll do all my chores and pick up a second job to help with money! I’ll do your goodness guide and the chart and buy you all the cheese!”

‘Does a little foot stamp’

“Just come back to me…otherwise, you might as well kill me right where I stand, because there’s no point without you…you’re my guy, my small, stupid, brilliant inventor who I spent four years missing, because I was stupid, and scared…and—I’m sorry”

‘The moon begins to go behind the clouds as the were rabbit changes its expression”

“…Wallace? What’s happening? What’s the matter?”

‘The moon fully disappears and the beast softens its features’

“…it’s you”

‘The rabbit makes a strange chip’

“WALLACE!”

‘The two embrace as Gromit breathes a sigh of relief and Fluffles spins happily in her chair at home’

[ofmiceandpeace]

Okay, so does anyone else have an affinity for Gene Forrester or is it just me? Like on a deep psychological level, and qualities as well…

In the tags of a reblog of a post I can't find, I mentioned this a little bit, but I don't know if I said it directly in a post. But anyway, it's actually kind of bizarre. (I'll get a little personal here so if you find that cringey then I wouldn't read this. It sounds a little venty at times, which was not the intention, but to explain the way my mind negatively works.)

On a shallow level, I'm introverted and I get good grades like him. I like my subjects; is that being an intellectual? I'm also not an athletic person—I’m not participating in a sport, and most likely wouldn't in the future. All of my friends do sports and some, partly due to that, are actually perfect citizens and human beings. Here I thought it gets meta.

There are people so much better than me, and I have always felt some twinge of jealousy or a deep rooted loathing for their superiority, and after analyzing that moral at the end of A Separate Peace, I realized that it totally applied to me. My whole thing is insecurity. My emotions often get the better of me, especially when I overthink, which is equally as often. Sometimes I (used to) feel like my head is just crowded from anxieties and such, leading to the aforementioned bad actions. I've actually pushed people away in the past due to this.

Onto a side point of overthinking, a lot of it is being introspective like Gene was in his narration, albeit some being his reflections from 15 years in the future. I analyze my own thoughts and motives like they're of another person (or so I think) and that just uses a lot of time and brain power, probably for no good reason. For example, I spend a lot of time mulling over events in the past that embarrassed me, or things that still make me angry months or years after its happening; things I just regret, like ruining friendships with people in the past because of my own insecurities. I don't know if I've come to terms with them yet. We'll see in 15 years.

But anyway, yeah, I don't know, most of the people around me have just amazing qualities which make my own faults more apparent to me. Relating this to A Separate Peace’s moral may have made my overthinking worse, actually, because now I just tell myself, whenever I suspect wrongdoing, “Am I jumping to conclusions because I hate them for some reason?” thus perpetuating the cycle… and I can never tell if it is this way or that.

So in conclusion I relate to Gene with his traits and the way he thinks and acts. Which is kind of cringey to write, but this is partially for myself just to put these thoughts out there which have been floating around in my head for a while. It's really strange, because it's almost a perfect fit. I haven't come across any protagonist that I've related this closely to. Maybe this is another reason why I love A Separate Peace so much? Am I secretly rooting for myself? No, but Gene’s character is just so real. It's not overly dramatized, just a boy with a tortured conscience over an incident that was caused by a realistic mental conflict.

Comparing this to another Knowles book, Peace Breaks Out features characters that act very dramatically with interesting motives and lines and whatnot. More of the plot is action in comparison to A Separate Peace; so the story is not as “believable.” This lack of action in the predecessor makes it seem boring to a lot of people—we can all agree on that. People say nothing happens. But even though they're objectively wrong, I'll say that that's what makes it interesting to me.

You spend so much time with these characters in their everyday lives, listening to the inside of the narrator’s head, or to his friend’s monologues that now and then reveal a key part of his philosophy, that you almost feel connected to them, that they are, in the most figurative way possible, real people. And in my case you may even identify with a character since they are so realistic that their traits coincidentally lined up with your own.

Extreme plot points aren't needed for an interesting story. This tiny fandom can advocate this, right? We're passionate about a 60s book that takes place in a boarding school during World War II which like no one else cares about. It's crazy…

Anyway sorry this was all over the place. I wrote what I was thinking and things probably don't make sense. Thanks for reading if you made it to the end!!

[hellsbeenbettersincehesplit]

Chapter 5 of shifting vertebrae is up! Things are moving now! Featuring Cherri visiting the hotel and a plot-relevant board game night :)

Cross-posted under the cut! Like always, I'd prefer if you read on Ao3, but if you don't have an acct it's also available on here :) hope you guys enjoy!

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Shifting Vertebrae

Chapter 5: A Particularly Explosive Game of Uno

Cherri Bomb was not particularly committed to the whole ‘redemption’ thing that the Hazbin Hotel was about.

Sure, she was there sometimes, because it was where Angel was crashing. Not to mention that now that her nemesis-turned-ally was gone, she was getting bored. She was just powerful enough that a fight with her would annoy powerful overlords, and her turf was worth a little less than what would be worth a fight. The occasional band of punks would pick a fight, but for the most part, there was nobody to defend against. Blowing shit up had become fun in the same way scrolling on SinTok was- mildly entertaining in the moment but ultimately its own form of boredom. Clubbing was still fun, at least, but she could hardly do that all day. Without a rival, she was left feeling somewhat purposeless.

The hotel was a nice change. Cherri wasn’t trying to make it out of this fucking pit. She’d done alright for herself in Hell, and while Angie could do what he wanted, Cherri had no intention of dropping her own vices. That being said, a change in environment was at least interesting, which was something her life had begun to lack. It reminded her a bit of what her other options were, made her feel a little less trapped and reminded her that she was choosing the life she lived.

Normally, Cherri showed up uninvited. Uninvited was how she usually showed up to places, after all. This time, Angie actually had asked her to come to board game night, which meant it was important- so of course she’d written herself a reminder, asked a contact to watch her turf, and made sure she'd be there.

“What’s up, bitches?” she'd announced as she slammed the door open. She didn’t get much a reaction anymore. After a while, they'd gotten used to it.

Like always, Angie was scrolling on his phone on a couch. Like always, Husk was at the bar, with his classic I-hate-myself expression. Like always, Niffty could be heard chasing bugs. Unlike always, Angie’s boss’s coworker, Velvette, was sitting at the bar with a gin and tonic, looking like Cherri was the one out of place here. She’d been on a phone call, and Cherri had overheard her saying, “-look, I’m doing what I fucking can, it’s not my fault that you-” before cutting off the sentence. “I’ll call you back. Mhm. Bye.”

What the fuck.

Cherri’s hand closed into a fist. Seriously? It wasn’t enough for Val to have his filthy fucking claws on Angel at work, he had to spy on Angie here too? She’d seen what the Moth’s effect was on Angie before he’d moved out, and she’d seen firsthand how much getting away from Valentino helped Angel. The knowledge dawned on her with a grave certainty that this would make everything go back to how bad it used to be. What kind of friend would she be if she let that happen?

If Charlie was allowing this, she somehow even more naïve than Cherri had ever thought. Overlords weren’t sinners the way she or the other residents of the Hotel were. They were souls who had done something in life to deserve to be here and then they chose to embrace that fact. They caused so much suffering after their deaths for personal gain. Overlords didn’t care if something was immoral or who gets hurt, that’s just how Hell worked. Charlie had yet to hear of an overlord who had voluntarily chosen to change their actions, and she doubted she ever would. Not to mention that this hotel was for redemption. It was for souls trying to escape extermination. Overlords had nothing to fear from staying and everything to lose by leaving Hell.

No overlord would want to go to Heaven. No overlord had reasons to want to escape Hell. No overlord would change their actions because of morals they’d forsaken long ago. So what the fuck was this?

She wasn’t about to forget what she'd just heard either. Based on what she knew about the Vees and her conversations with Angel, there was no way that Velvette wasn’t scheming with Valentino. He’d gotten himself into some mess yet again, and she was fixing it. What Cherri wanted to know was why she was doing this in the middle of the hotel.

Cherri had some experience living in Hell, and wasn’t about to confront Velvette head-on. As much as she wanted to, she filed Velvette into the same category as Val or Alastor (or any other overlords, if she ever met any): people to avoid. So, to the couch she went, moving Angel’s feet to give herself space. “What’s up, fuckhead?”

“Same old shit.” He groaned. “Val’s being Val, as usual. Won’t stop blowing up my phone.”

“Ugh,” Cherri added sympathetically. She glanced over- Velvette was drinking the beverage, doing something on her phone. No earbuds in. She pulled up Angie’s contact.

Cherri: u couldnt hav warned me abt that?????

Angie: ?

Cherri: v over there??

Angel: ohh

Angel: forgot

She gave him a look. His expression was just vaguely sheepish.

Cherri: this shit was NOT in ur contract

Cherri: val doesn’t get to spy on u

Angel: idk i dont think shes a spy

Angel: hasnt tried anything

Angel: not sure why shes here but its not that

Cherri: i wouldn’t put it past val

Cherri: hes such a piece of shit

Angel: fr

She would’ve kept her investigation going, but Charlie chose that moment to set down a game of Clue. And a deck of Uno cards. And a deck of playing cards. Vaggie followed behind her- the two were still attached at the hip even past their honeymoon phase, it was so sweet- and began shuffling.

“No Alastor?” Angie asked.

“He’s had a meeting with Rosie scheduled!” Charlie replied.

“You sure he didn’t just skip board game night?” Cherri pointed out. Charlie didn’t really respond to that.

“You all know the rules,” Vaggie began, trying to keep them focused. “No poker. No cheating. No betting. We’re starting with uno. No stacks.” Husk was the one shuffling. Cherri had always thought this was a questionable choice, as the former gambling overlord was the most likely to be able to deal in his own favor. That being said, it hadn’t helped the first few times she’d pointed this out, and so she’d keep that to herself this time.

“So, Velvette,” Cherri began. “What’s your deal?”

The overlord stopped scrolling, and looked over, clearly disinterested. “What?”

“Why’re you here?”

“Would you want to be around Val or Vox?” she’d replied, essentially blowing off Cherri’s question. Were all of them fucking serious? Did they all seriously expect her to just sit here, acting civil around one of the Vees, and not do anything? Vaggie was giving her a look, like she shouldn’t start an argument. Fine. But she wasn’t staying here, and she was only here for Angie. Frankly, in Cherri’s opinion, this was clearly a way for Val to keep hurting Angel, and she wasn’t about to just sit by and let him do this. Even if she wasn’t, she still was part of the business that had done this to him, and she’d still stood by and let everything happen. Cherri was going to get to the fucking bottom of this, even if the rest were dragging their fucking feet.

“I’m going to the toilet,” Cherri told Charlie as she went to the stairs. She knew roughly which room everyone else was staying in, which means the occupied one that she wasn’t familiar with would be Velvette’s. Whatever Voxtech bugs or shit she was using would be kept there, probably. Then, Cherri would have hard proof about whatever the fuck was going on.

After all, Angie didn’t know why Velvette was there, and neither did anyone else. The overlord wasn’t giving her any useful information. Cherri wasn’t concerned about ethics when her best friend was on the line. Time to blow shit up. She found the room she was looking for and tossed a bomb towards the door. It’d be loud and draw attention, but honestly the others were used to explosions in Pentagram city- it might be fine.

Sure, she’d promised not to blow anything else up, but she’d pay Charlie for repairs. It’s not like this was the first time she’d blown up a small part of the hotel.

The door disappeared in a satisfying flash of red smoke.

Cherri had expected something like from the influences that Velvette promoted. Perfection was the Vees’ brand, and she’d honestly thought that it extended to all aspects of their lives. Not to mention that every video Velvette made went viral, so of course she’d seen the room Velvette filmed in- and she’d just accepted that that’s how the overlord lived.

Velvette’s room was an impressive fucking mess.

Papers were fucking everywhere. There were two corkboards on the wall, one with crushed pictures of the other two Vees. They looked like they’d been through a tornado. Weird.

Moving on from that, the other corkboard had pictures of a Voxtech worker. It had copious amounts of red string and sticky notes. It looked like a conspiracy board of some kind. Cherri snapped a picture, because what the fuck? Was Velvette stalking some random sinner, was this an ex, was this someone from Velvette’s former life, what was going on?

On the floor was various papers, discarded energy drink cans, a magenta binder full of somehow even more unorganized papers, and various books. Cherri checked the titles. One on contract law, one about a history of overlords, another on contract law, one on ethics of all things, one on politics. Was she trying to strengthen her contracts? Cherri could understand why Velvette would want four of them if this was for power, but ethics? Was that to help manipulate Charlie?

She picked up the binder and flipped it open to the first page, which was an annotated copy of some poor soul’s contract. She didn’t get the chance to read those annotations, however, because Velvette’s voice came through the doorway.

“I’d like to hear one reason why I shouldn’t slit your throat.”

Cherri’s fear of Velvette had always been a lot like her cautious fear of all overlords- the fact that if she pissed her off, she could die. Right now, the fact that Velvette could kill her was more real, most likely because instead of a ‘could die,’ this was a ‘would die.’

At least she’d die relatively confident that whatever Velvette’s shit was, it was unrelated to Angie.

Velvette made some kind of hand signal, and all sounds stopped. The dust in the air was perfectly still. It was like the world around them was a video that Velvette had chosen to pause. It did make sense to Charlie that Velvette would have some kind of social media-related powers. It’d be cool if she wasn’t about to die with nobody being able to come and help her.

“I don’t think you realize what you’ve just messed with,” Velvette began. “Did you think I wouldn’t fucking notice? I have some form of basic security. Frankly, there is nothing in my life that’s any of your fucking business.”

If Cherri was about to die again, she may as well go out the way she’d lived- rashly and honestly. “‘None of my fucking business?’ Mate, whatever plan you and the others have come up with is endangering Angie. I-”

Velvette cut her off. “Do you seriously fucking think I care about Val’s weird-ass obsession with him?” She scoffed. “Oh, and I couldn’t care less about Vox’s shit with Alastor. They’re both fucking pathetic.”

“Then fucking explain it!” Cherri growled.

“I don’t owe you shit,” Velvette responded. “Did you forget that you’re the one without leverage?” Her voice was cool, in a way that sounded controlled. Instead of her words being a conduit for her rage, her rage was a tool in itself. Cherri fucking hated overlords.

“I suppose you’d be ok with this losing this, then?” she asked, holding up the binder in one hand while tossing a bomb up and down in the other. “If I’m dying either way, I’m taking this fucker with me.”

She could actually see panic flash on Velvette’s face, and she could see the overlord force it under a mask. Cherri supposed that Velvette usually ‘cut’ to hide moments like that, which was how the others hadn’t found any moments where they struck a nerve. Likewise, maybe she couldn’t cut when she’d already hit pause?

“Your choice,” Cherri said. She really didn’t have any other leverage, so she really needed this to work.

And there was that rage. But Velvette clearly didn’t want a head-on battle- which was weird, because most overlords had something to help with that, but it seemed like Velvette’s powers were somehow weaker maintaining this state, while Cherri was at full strength- and so she actually fucking conceded.

“Give me back the fucking binder, and we can both forget about this,” she’d hissed out.

“Actually, I’d like to know what’s so important in there.” Cherri opened it and pointed to the first page. “Why are you analyzing contracts? What’s with your fucking stalker board? I think I might have to ask around if I can’t figure things out from the source…” She let her voice trail off. Ok, this part was honestly just kind of fun. Velvette was so mad. She could almost see the steam coming out of her ears.

“Or I could just keep this for a little bit,” Cherri added. “You know, instead of destroying it.”

“Fucking fine!” Velvette exploded. Finally she was yelling. “I’ll explain this to you, but you need to sign an NDA.”

“I don’t know,” Cherri said with a smirk. “Why should I?”

“You don’t like my coworkers, do you?” Velvette replied. She seemed to realize she finally regained a foothold in the conversation. “Neither do I right now. Destroy that, and everything I’ve been planning against them dies. Do you want to give Val a win?”

What the fuck?

“All the information you want,” Velvette said, summoning a piece of paper. “Just sign and don’t destroy my notes.”

Cherri skimmed the document. Velvette had hid a few other conditions- not her soul, but Cherri would be obligated to help with whatever this was. On the other hand, Cherri added a clause that Velvette would be obligated to be honest.

She wasn’t a huge fan, but frankly, Cherri was getting bored. She also a clause that she'd only obligated to help if Velvette had been honest about hurting Valentino and Vox in some way. Then, she added a condition that she couldn’t be forced to put Angie in danger. Whatever the fuck this was, at least it’d give her something to do. Maybe she’d even get to blow something up.

There was a reddish-pink glow as Cherri signed. What Velvette explained was beyond the scope of what Cherri had imagined. A grin had grown on her face- the inevitable chaos in the fallout was the kind that Cherri lived for.

When the two headed back downstairs, Angie almost immediately commented, “Damn Cherri, didn’t know you wanted to tap that.” She felt heat rush to her cheeks.

“You know we weren’t doing that, fuckhead,” she responded as she gave him an affectionate shoulder punch.

Angel merely laughed, and the others looked mildly uncomfortable. It seemed that they'd dealt the cards and had been waiting for Cherri and Vel, which was admittedly understandable. She sat herself next to Angel to, fully intending to cheat off of his cards as much as possible, as was her right as his best friend.

When Vel won, Cherri couldn’t even be as mad as she normally was at losing. But she did destroy Vel in the rematch.

Cherri wasn’t committed to the redemption concept and she definitely had no intention to leave Hell. But being at the hotel was worth it sometimes. It was worth it because seeing Angel both happy and sober was a rarity she’d thought extinct before he’d showed up here. It was worth it because even though Sir Pentious was gone, she’d seen him in a new light in those final moments. It was worth it because she had these experiences with new people she wouldn't have met otherwise. And it was worth it because she knew what was coming, and if the dominoes fell correctly she’d end up closer to the top of the Pride Ring’s hierarchy than she’d thought possible.

[marley-manson]

3, 5, 6, and 14 for movie asks and i may be back with more ✨️

3. What is a film you absolutely despise and why?

Hmm I can think of a few answers here.

One is Antichrist, which I despise because it's an extremely well-made and engaging movie that's just absolutely wildly misogynist. Not in a women being objectified and mistreated by the narrative way, but literally in a 'the thesis statement of this movie is that women are evil' way lol, featuring certain essentialist masculine and feminine stereotypes taken to extremes. It's Lars Von Trier's divorce movie iirc so yeah. Anyway I hate it personally because I had to watch it for 2 different film studies courses, and the second time I intended to bounce bc I didn't care to watch it again but it's unfortunately so well-made it suckered me into staying, so I have extra resentment towards it for that lol.

Another is Four Christmases because my sister likes those obnoxious 00s comedies and due to circumstances beyond my control I've found myself sitting through it with her like 3 separate times. It's just grating as hell. This is my petty pick.

And I'll finish with Crash (2004). I don't watch a lot of oscar nominated white dude takes on racism but I happened to see this one and good lord it was horrifyingly bad. From the cop apologia to the cardboard cut-out stereotypes to the both sidesism to framing racism as an unfortunate tragedy that's no one's fault rather than a system perpetuated by those with privilege to, most horrifyingly, depicting a rapist as heroic including using the image of his heroism in promotional materials, it was practically a lesson in how bad a critically acclaimed movie could be. And like I recognize that it was trying to be ~morally grey~ with that rapist thing lol but it failed completely. The message was 'despite the assault this guy is still heroic' and not 'despite saving his victim's life this dude is still a fucking racist rapist.'

5. What is your favorite genre of film?

Oof idk, I'm open to almost all genres if it's a good movie. I love genre as a concept and film theory in and of itself, like any film is worth watching if it's a well-known pillar or deconstruction of or twist on its genre. lol I guess maybe I'll say satire? I love commentaries and stories that are responding to something, and satire is a really strong hook for me.

6. What is your least favorite genre of film?

het romcom. I don't hate every single one I've ever seen, but it's a very high percentage lmao, especially if we specify the late 80s/90s resurgence. And of the ones I like, it's always because there's something else going on with the story that's more interesting and lets me tolerate the romance.

14. Who is your favorite director? Why?

I'm not actually much of a cinephile so there aren't a lot of directors whose work I follow, and none whose oeuvre I've fully completed, so I have no solid answer. Most directors I'm into have films I love and films that don't particularly appeal.

That said, my answer right now is Billy Wilder. Every Billy Wilder movie I've seen is an instant fave, and he has a recurring vibe that strongly appeals to me. Wry cynicism, dark humour, and usually some exploration of gender roles/subverted masculinity. Plus just solid, iconic filmmaking. If I was making a list of directors whose work I'd be willing to go full completionist on, his would be at the top of the list.

Thank you!

[lostonehero]

More time travel

Just to preface this I hate security breech but I love the idea Micheal can't fucking rest and ends up as glamrock Freddy

Also Gregory is a spilt from Evan the crying child spirit robo kid

Anyhow let's go

Henry sighs as he parks in the diners parking lot. They had to shut down for the weekend, Henry couldn't run this place by himself, and William's youngest had a meltdown. He hoped it was just a meltdown. He didn't think he could get those screams out of his head. He sighs as he spots his partner heavy eye bags and a sleep deprived look with a warm coffee in his hands. "Is Evan ok?"

William frowns. "He stopped screaming, and he responds to Evan again. He isn't normal yet, but Clara is convinced it's Micheal's fault. She locked him in his room and hadn't been able to see him all weekend. He's 11 Henry, and he can't cause that kind of damage. Clara won't let me take him to the hospital."

Henry matches his partner frown. "We have to figure out what caused it."

"I'm going to tear this place to the nails and rebuild it so nothing ever happens again." William barely bites back a yawn.

Henry nods as he unlocks the door he only manages to take a few steps in before he can hear William shout.

"MICHEAL DAVID AFTON DID YOU SPEND THE WEEKEND HERE?" William shouts, and it barely stirs his son sleeping at the table. A notepad he got from the security office was next to him.

Henry picks up the notebook and starts to read through it. His eyes get wider as he keeps going. "William...." Henry grabs the taller man before he could shake Micheal awake. "William, look at this. Micheals is the same age as my girl."

William rubbed his temples. "Henry, I know that. Why are you bringing it up? Clara lied to me. Micheal never came home. She locked his room, and I believed her." He can't even spiral as Henry shoves the note pad at him.

"William read it now." Henry's tone doesn't leave room for argument. "I have to check...." He sinks into a bench. "Your son can't write like that, right?"

William can feel the panic and shame drain from him. Even his exhaustion was replaced with confusion as he flipped through the notepad detail sketches of designs he couldn't even fathom were on the pages, then drawings of human anatomy and changes. Then the writing the handwriting was too neat to be from a child, and too detailed as well. He sat next to Henry as both men read the notepad detail notes upon detail notes spread across the pages.

There was a list on the front.

1. You're alive. You have to eat, and (recharge was crossed out replaced with sleep)

2. Are you 11? 10? Doesn't matter you are a child.

3. Cleaned the diner. Didn't have to need something to pass the time.

4. Found fathers sewing kid fixed a unform for my body. (Body is then crossed out and replaced with you're alive. Micheal refers to yourself as such)

4. Eyes glow and change color based on mood did not have that when I was alive or a corpse.

5. Remember to eat and drink. You have bodily functions again.

6. (Medical scan is crossed out) Not a machine figure out what is different than your normal human you had 40? No 60 years ago before you were a walking corpse.

7. I fucking forgot about Gregory fuck (the name is bold and underlined)

8. Wait for father to return, I am a child, and it would be suspicious if I just left here by myself.

9. Scratch that recharge then leave when the sun comes up its the fucking 80s stranger danger isn't a thing yet.

10. Figure out how I got here, and again, check out my body. I haven't done that yet.

11. Am I too young to have coffee yet, I know physically, yes, but is that different if you have an adult mind?

(The rest is just general diary entries and extremely detailed notes of the repairs and fixes he has done around the diner as if he already knows how everything works. Along with detailed drawings and anatomy sketches of his new features that humans shouldn't have.)

William and Henry share a look at each other. Neither man knows how to move forward, and Micheal is still dead asleep.

Henry spoke up first. "I'm going to check the animotronics."

"I-i'll check the kitchen and security office." William stutters each man had to confirm what was written.

......

What both men found was that the building was spotless, and every single mechanical issue they had was fixed. Micheal even fixed the camera in the kitchen. They returned to where Micheal was still asleep as William gently shook him awake.

"Mmmh, five more minutes, need to charge..." Micheal mumbles and shakes slightly harder, and he screws his eyes shut. He huffed and opened his eyes they were glowing a bright blue. He rubs his eyes and sits up, cracking his back. It doesn't do much considering he is a child.

"Micheal...?" William cautiously spoke, not really ready for how Micheal was going to act.

Micheal yawned, looking over to his father. "Good morning, I assume you've read my diary." Henry stops him from grabbing William's coffee. His attention turns to his uncle. He wasn't exactly used to seeing him young and full of life. Charlie's death ruined the man, and he devolved into his work building a massive franchise at the cost of his sanity. The fake pizzeria was the last time he saw the man withered by age and depression. He didn't look any better, but still. Here was his uncle before the tragedy before the ruin. He flicked his eyes to his father. He wasn't his mother's puppet. He wasn't a drunk that was a slave to her control. He wasn't a corpse in that springlock failure. He was still him."

Both men stepped back as Micheal pushed himself out of the bench. He stood up and scratched his stomach. William noticed his nails looked pained and that his teeth were much sharper than they should have been, and white like ivory. "Micheal?"

Micheal looks up at his father and sighs. "Hello again father, it's been a while." He frowns at his voice. "I forgot how high pitched my voice before puberty. Doesn't matter." He wipes his mouth of the drool from his sleep. "I'm not used to having bodily functions again."

Henry raises his brow and gives a look to William, who merely shrugs. The notebook only referred to a corpse body, then that one of a machine. "Micheal, what happened?"

Micheal pauses. "I was running away from a woman named Vanessa protecting a child, his name is Gregory and we fell.... I woke up here approximately 56 hours ago. Everyone had left, which was odd because I don't recall that ever happening except.... that isn't important, but I woke up alone and confused. I'm not used to being small." He's not used to having strong emotions again either.

William reaches out and pulls Micheal into a hug, and he can feel Micheal start to cry he was silent, which threw up major red flags. "Hey, it's ok, how about we get breakfast and we can talk. How old are you?"

Micheal sniffs, clinging to his father. "I don't know, but it was 2036."

Henry's eyes widen. "I'll start my car, and we can head to the local diner since you did a very good job fixing up everything." He smiles as Micheal nods.

Neither adult knew how to handle this situation. William was at a loss for how he even forgot his son at their diner, and Henry could see the sheer amount of horrors Micheal ad faced with his thousand yard stare.

......

Micheal kicks his feet, staring at the menu. He looks confused and slightly overwhelmed. He grabs his father's arm when the waitress comes by.

William raises his brow but sighs. "I'll have the spinach omelet, and my son will have the chocolate chip pancakes."

Henry smiles. "Oh, I'll have the steak and eggs."

The waitress smiles. "Pretty late seeing you two here. Good morning at the diner?"

William nods. "Just a bit of maintenance, and everything is running smoothly."

"That's great to hear my little angel loves the place." She smiles and heads to the kitchen.

Micheal frowns. "I apologize. I haven't had to really eat in a long time. I think I've forgotten what I like."

William can feel his heart break. "It's alright. We can always figure it out."

Henry nods. "Micheal, is it ok to ask why you seem so nervous?"

Micheal shrugs. "I haven't uh been around a lot of adults in a long time, or people for that matter, I think I was 21 or 22 when I got scooped and became a living corpse couldn't really stay in touch with anyone after that. I was close to Jeremy for a while, but we got into a massive fight right before I got scooped, and I ran away like a coward." He messes with his hands. "Probably deserve it, though, I ended up killing Evan when I was 14 golden Freddy jaw can crush a skull." He bites his lip. "Lozzie died before that baby malfunction and stuffed her into her chest cavity." He stops seeing both men stare at him in shock and horror.

William clears his throat. "I..."

Micheal frowns, crossing his arms. "I'm sorry. I haven't, I uh..." He sighs frustrated his eyes flicker red. "This was easier before." He stops as his father ruffles his hair, and his eyes return to his normal blue.

"We have time to stop the tragedy." William pats his son's back. "Take a breath. We can do this."

Henry clears his throat. "Your father is right, but I do have to ask who Gregory is? Was he in the diner with you? Do you think he came back with you? If there is another child, I don't want them to be trapped there."

Micheal shakes his head. "I looked everywhere. I couldn't find him."

Henry nods. "Ok, we can search for him later."

The waitress returns with their food, and Micheal stares at his food, not really understanding how to proceed. He pokes at it, pulling off a piece and shoving it into his mouth. His eyes light up like they were glowing as he continues to rip off pieces eating his food like he hadn't eaten anything in years. William has to grab his hands.

"Micheal, please use a fork and knife." William looks down at his son, who seems to finally return to reality, and his face grows red, and his eyes glow a yellow.

"R-right, my apologies." Micheal cleans off his hands and eats slowly with a fork. "I think I like them."

Henry holds back a laugh as William wipes off Micheal's mouth. "You seem out of practice, I think I can help remedy that."

William gives Henry a look. "It is getting too cold for one of your cookouts."

"Bah, it's fine. we can have one." Henry smiles as William sputters.

Micheal smiles softly. "Can I go home? I want to see Elizabeth and Evan again. It's been a long time, and I have to apologize."

"Of course, after we finish, I'll take you home, and I have to talk to your mother.

.....

Micheal didn't recognize Evan at first he looked too much like Gregory, or was it the other way around. It didn't matter he nervously got closer to him. "Hello Evan." His moments were robotic, and he gave a half nervous smile.

Evan's eyes flicker as he takes a breath. "....Mikey?"

Micheal nods, and he can't control how much his eyes start to glow.

"Freddy?" Evan's voice changes it inflection to one Micheal recognized.

"Gregory....?" Micheal tilts his head.

Elizabeth tugs at Micheal's arm. "Are you a weird time person too?"

"What?" Micheal stared down at his sister.

Evan looks embarrassed. "I uh.... Mikey my uh.... my spirit split... my parts were reused to uh..."

"Gregory was an android?" Micheal pauses sitting next to his brother, and Elizabeth sits next to him.

"Yes?" Evan pauses. "I didn't know I could eat and stuff."

Micheal sighs. "Ok, it's ok."

"You were Freddy? How did you die?" Evan stares you at him

"I died twice." Micheal frowns. "I got scooped, and then I was burned." He sighs. "I'm sorry, Evan."

"Don't..." Evan leans against him. "We both have agreed that you're ok, but Gregory wants your foxy mask."

Micheal smiles. "Yeah, you can take it."

"But you don't have it yet." Evan giggles.

Micheal crosses his arms. "Then why ask for it?"

Evan shrugs.

Elizabeth gasps. "If you're giving away your stuff, I want your plushies."

"No." Micheal frowns. "However, you can paint my nails and do my hair whenever you want."

"Can you have tea parties with me?" Elizabeth smiles when Micheal nods. "Then you can keep them."

I'm so glad you won't take them." Micheal sighs and nearly jumps when the shouting starts. His eyes glow yellow and hold onto Elizabeth and Evan.

Elizabeth clings to Micheal's arm, and Evan clings to the other.

"Let's have a tea party in my room." Micheal gets up carrying both his siblings. He didn't really let either of them argue.

......

Micheal distracts the two long enough that they take a nap on his bed. He looks over to his door opening. He sees his father with a large gash across his cheek and a stab wound in his shoulder. "Father, you are injured."

William sighs, holding his shoulder. "Your mother...." He stops. "It was just an accident. I'm sure she was just threatened by me raising my voice."

Micheal knew that was a big fat lie, but he knew his father didn't know that. He takes a breath. "Father, you need to take us to Uncle Henry's now."

"Micheal, what are you..."

"Father, this is not a suggestion." Micheal stands up. "I know Mother hurts you if you do not follow her instructions. I also know mother has been killing the local pets and strays. I know you know this, too." He stares at his father. "Take us to Uncle Henry's."

William nods, picking up his two sleeping children as Micheal follows behind him.

......

Margaret answered the door and covered her mouth, William was covered in blood, and it looked like his shoulder was still bleeding, and he was swaying from blood loss. His three children were in front of him, and Micheal was holding onto his two siblings. "What happened?"

"Inside." Micheal mumbles, pushing past her, helping his two siblings inside. "Need string and a needle and a lighter."

Margaret shakes her head and drags William inside. "What the fuck happened?" The door slams behind her alerting her husband and daughter who just got back from school.

"Uncle William?" Charlie stops when her mother gives her a look.

Henry comes in right behind her and freezes. He was no stranger to a knife fight, and his partner looked like he had lost badly. "Margret, I can take him." He grabs William before he falls and motions for Margaret to grab the kids.

"Right, children, come on, this is an adult issue." Margaret is unable to grab Micheal, but she'll come back for him. She herds the other three into the guest room.

Micheal frowns. "Mother stabbed him after he tried to confront her about me."

"It was an accident." William slurs barely upright.

Henry shakes his head. "Micheal, there's a lighter in the front draw and grab a knife. I'm going to caturize the wound."

Micheal nods and follows his instructions as Henry straps his father's shirt off and heats up the knife.

His scream echoes through the home.

Henry shuts his eyes and takes a breath. "Micheal, how long?"

"They were arranged to be married, my father had no choice in the matter." Micheal frowns as he stares at his uncle, who was cleaning up his father's cheek. "You never knew. He never told anyone I found out going through paperwork."

"An arranged marriage?" Henry, stop and look over at his wife. "How much, did you hear?"

"Enough to know, I'm not letting any of them go back." Margaret crosses her arms. "I see enough of the outcome of abuse at work. I don't need to see it on people I care about." She sighs. "I don't even want to know how you know to catutrize a wound like that. Micheal, I don't know what happened to you, but I know you're different, but it doesn't matter." She sighs. "I'll get some of your clothes for him, and Micheal, can you help your siblings?"

"Yes, Aunt Margaret." Micheal runs off down the hall.

......

It's been a few hours, William was still out cold, and Henry was cooking a 6 course meal. She hadn't seen the children, so she walls down, and they weren't in the guest room, and she heard muffled talking from Charlie's room.

Micheal is standing on Charlie's bed with a handful of hand drawn pictures and notes on the wall tapped to the wall and crayon lines connecting them. Charlie was raising her hand. "So Uncle William kills me, and I become the puppet who's lefty?"

Micheal pauses. "Uh, I think a variety of Freddy you used to get around being in the rain. So to continue, after the fire and your father's speech, I woke up in glamrock Freddy." He points to the realize drawing of a colorful Freddy Margaret thinks. "Where I find Gregory aka half of Evan in my stomach hatch used for birthday cake and gifts, and it continues from there. There's the other security guard, Vanessa, who was possessed by our mother Clara, and developed a second personality that kills children, and she went after Gregory, who I know know was a very realistic android, and now understand why he looked so much like Evan. Then, somehow, in our escape, we ended up back in the past where we are now. We've already changed things."

Elizabeth raises her hand. "Did you ever see Jeremy again?"

"No, I did not." Micheal sighs. "I do miss him, but it's not important."

"You deserve to be happy too, Mikey." Evan mumbles.

"Jeremy's our age, so we just have to find him." Charlie gets up. "I vote we look for him since we know future events."

Elizabeth gets up and nods. "Yeah!"

Micheal sighs and covers his face. "That's not important. We have other things to be concerned about." He slams his hand against the wall of the pictures and notes.

Evan stands up. "No, I agree with Evan. we are finding this Jeremy guy first. We want to see your eyes glow pink again."

"Yeah, they were pretty." Elizabeth giggles climbing on the bed.

Charlie nods. "It's like a mood ring."

Micheal sighs and covers his face. "But we have to...."

Margaret clears her throat. "Um...."

"Oh hi, mom. Micheal was explaining the future to us." Charlie smiles. "We have to save the future, isn't that cool."

Margaret nods, straining a smile. "Uh yes, your father made dinner for all of you. Could you guys wash up."

Micheal nods, jumping off the bed and grabbing Elizabeth and Evan. "Time to wash our hands."

Margret stops. "Why is he carrying them like that?"

"Dunno?" Charlie shrugs following after him.

.....

[mayhemwrites]

stormwitch

In which Zoya Nazyalensky is the legendary Stormwitch, and Alina Starkov is just another Sun Summoner.

Featuring Lada Garin as Zoya's adoptive sister, and Liliyana as her adoptive mother.

read it on ao3 here! written for the AU roulette challenge, with the prompt "roleswap AU"

full fic under the cut - zoyalina enemies to lovers, told via zoya's letters to lada and liliyana, mostly canon compliant except for the roleswap, 1280 words

I have arrived at the Little Palace. The journey was difficult, but I survived thanks to the Darkling’s protection, so you don’t need to worry about me. When I got there, they sent somebody known as a Tailor to alter my face - I was furious, but apparently it was necessary. Then they had me brought before the King. I will say no more on that. I have no idea who will read this letter before it is sent, and I have no wish to be accused of treason.

--------

Dear Lada,

I called a storm outside the throne room, and every noble who had come to watch was hugely impressed. I saw somebody faint in the crowd.

I wish you could be here with me.

Yours, Zoya.

--------

Dear Lada,

My training has begun, and it’s dreadful. My primary instructor is an old woman named Baghra, who likes to hit her students with her walking stick. My friend Nadia told me that when she first began training as a Tidemaker, Baghra released a swarm of bees on her to encourage her to use her powers.

I got in a fight with a stuck-up Sun Summoner girl. Her name is Alina and she has been at the Little Palace for ten years. Somehow, this makes her think that she is better than me or anybody else, and she resents the fact that I am getting all the attention. It’s hardly my fault.

During one of my training sessions, the teacher asked me to choose another student to fight against, so I chose her. Everybody told me that she was bitchy, and I saw it myself when I was first introduced to her. She threw me down first, so I punched her, and she blinded me. This was two days ago, and I am only just beginning to recover my vision.

The Darkling was furious with her. I saw her cry after he reprimanded her.

I hope you’re reading this. It’s been two weeks since I last wrote, and I’ve had no reply.

Yours, Zoya.

--------

Dear Lada,

Is everything alright at home? I hope Liliyana is okay.

I’ve settled into some sort of routine here at the Little Palace, but they want me to perform at the winter fête next month. The Fabrikators are building an entire stage for me outside in the grounds so that I can summon a storm.

It’s all very exciting, but the Little Palace is hardly what I imagined. The food is terrible, and there’s so much in-fighting. You would think that the Second Army would be united against its common enemies, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Corporalki hate Etherealki, who patronise Materialki, who resent Corporalki, and so on.

Wish me luck for my demonstration!

Yours, Zoya.

--------

Dear Lada,

I’m starting to worry about you. Surely somebody would have informed me if something truly bad had happened to you, so I’m trying to stay positive for once.

I’m writing this as I’m waiting to perform at the winter fête. The last week or two have been a blur, and there’s so much I have to tell you.

First of all, the Darkling wants to find me an amplifier. But not just any amplifier - Morozova’s stag. Baghra says it’s a myth and he’s stupid for believing in it, but he thinks it’s real and I should have it. He says that if he manages to find it, I might be powerful enough to save Ravka from the Shadow Fold. Sun Summoners have tried for decades to destroy it, but he says if I can learn to summon lightning, that might work better.

Also, he kissed me. I can hardly believe it. I have no idea what to think. On one hand, I should be repulsed. On the other hand, it’s nice that somebody is paying attention to me, you know? I’ve never felt wanted the way I do now.

Don’t tell me I’m making a mistake. I know I am. But I don’t care.

Yours, Zoya

--------

Dear Liliyana,

You might have heard some of the news from the last few months, but I want to tell you my version of the story.

Yes, Lada and I found Morozova’s stag. I would have taken it as my amplifier, but the Darkling got there first. He killed it and put its antlers around my neck to control my power. It’s okay. I found a way to sever the connection. Unfortunately, he used me to expand the Shadow Fold first.

That’s the bit I’m sure you already knew.

I’m back at the Little Palace, and this time I’m leading the Second Army. The Darkling has gone rogue, and he ran away, taking many of the older Grisha with him. But I’ve taken charge of everybody who remained, and officially been instated as General. I’m also engaged to Prince Nikolai, and that’s helped me gain the respect of everybody at court.

I miss you every day. Would you like to bring the children from Keramzin to live here in Os Alta? I’m sure the royal family wouldn’t object.

Yours, hoping to see you soon, Zoya.

--------

Dear Liliyana,

I am so sorry. I thought it was such a good idea to invite you to Os Alta.

I didn’t realise that both Palaces would be destroyed by the time you got here.

Lada is with me, and we are both safe. It took a while. I was briefly kidnapped by the Apparat - please do not worry about me! I’m perfectly alright. We’ve moved to a secret base, and I probably shouldn’t give away our location. Rest assured that we are safe. (As safe as we can possibly be, in the middle of a civil war.)

Next week we are planning on taking a tour around Ravka, to win support for our cause against the Darkling. The plan is to mostly visit West Ravkan nobility, but I can arrange for us to come to Os Alta. Assuming you are still there, and haven’t found somewhere else to stay. Assuming that you are still alive and safe.

Please still be alive and safe.

Yours, Zoya.

--------

Dear Liliyana,

I want to believe that what I saw was a hallucination, or some kind of vision, that the Darkling sent to me so that he could torture me.

But deep down I know you will never read this letter.

Everything has changed since the last time I wrote to you. I don’t even know if you read that one. I hope you did. I hope you know that I love you.

Maybe it’s for the best that you died not knowing that in order to save Ravka, I would have to kill Lada. She is the third amplifier - the firebird, a descendant of Ilya Morozova. I don’t know what I’m going to do. Of course I want to save Ravka, to destroy the Shadow Fold. But I can’t lose Lada. I just can’t. I wish you were here to give me some advice.

It seems almost trivial that I have fallen in love.

I don’t think I ever told you about Alina. You never met her. I would have liked you to.

She’s a Sun Summoner, and anything I could say about her, you would laugh and tease me for. You would tell me I’ve grown into a romantic, just like you always predicted I would.

I think you would have liked her, if you’d ever met her.

She’s the only thing that’s keeping me going, knowing that I have to lose Lada. We march against the Darkling tomorrow, under cover of a storm.

I love you. I always will. I wish you were still here.

Yours, Zoya.