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madebycloud · 8 hours ago

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pt 5 | Not Even at All

jinx/powder x female reader — 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬⠀𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: vi is off limits until her sister gets a date that doesn't end within the first ten minutes. eager to date vi, a certain girl approaches you with a proposal. date jinx. win her over. and for your efforts, she's willing to be generous. (10 Things I Hate About You AU) warnings/themes: fluff and slight angst, enemies to finally lovers yey, highschool, modern au, kat!jinx, patrick!reader words: 5.5k notes: i burn, i pine, i perish! it's finally the last part hehe — ✩ part one, part two, part three, part four, part five

Jinx glares at the blank sheet of notebook paper in front of her. Sitting at her desk in her room, she grips her pen tighter and tighter. It's a miracle it doesn't snap.

Just write it. Just get the assignment over with. Do the damn assignment, she mentally tells herself, but her mind won't let her focus.

She's thinking about you.

And nothing else.

You.

How long has she been sitting here? An hour? Two hours?

She glances at her phone. And then the paper again. Back and forth. Groaning, she slumps back in her chair, dropping the pen onto the desk.

The stupid assignment can wait. All the noise in her mind can't be quieted.

She grabs her phone off her desk, checking the notifications. Nothing.

You haven't called her today. Or yesterday. Or the day before. Nothing for days.

But why?

She doesn't care.

She doesn't. Why should she? You did what you did, and that was that.

Jinx's head is spinning with thoughts. Anger, confusion, hurt, frustration. She's angry.

She's angry at herself for falling for your stupid words.

She's angry at herself for believing the stupid lies you told her.

She's angry at you for everything. For making a fool out of her, for lying to her face.

What an idiot.

She is such an idiot. Trusting you, caring for you, even liking you. You of all people.

You were just like all the others, but this time it hurts more.

It hurts a lot more.

Maybe if she never trusted you. Maybe if she'd just been more careful, listened to her gut more, then she wouldn't be in this whole mess.

She wouldn't be so mad.

And frustrated.

And angry.

Maybe she wouldn't be sitting in her room staring at her phone hoping to see one notification from you. Maybe she wouldn't feel like her heart was stabbed.

Jinx's fingers itch.

She wants to call you. To tell you off, to scream at you, to curse at you.

But what good will that do?

None, of course.

She's just wasting her time.

A knock at her door interrupts Jinx's thoughts. “Jinx?” she hears, recognizing her sister's voice. “Can I come in?”

Jinx huffs, spinning to look at the door. “Yeah, come in,” she mutters, turning back to her paper. She feels the door open, the floor creaking with each of Vi's footsteps.

Vi has a warm smile on her face and a steaming cup of coffee in one hand. “Want one?” she asks, holding out the mug.

Despite everything that's happened lately, Jinx manages a smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes. “Thanks,” she says, taking the mug in her hands.

“No problem.” Vi takes a seat on Jinx's bed. “How's prom?”

Jinx grimaces, taking a sip of the coffee. It's still hot, but at least it's good. “It's fine.”

“Just fine?”

”Yeah.” Jinx shrugs, setting the mug down on her desk. “Fine.”

Vi furrows her brow at Jinx's response.

Jinx gets up from her desk and plops onto the bed beside her sister.

“I know what happened.”

Jinx stiffens at her words. She doesn't look at her sister, refusing to meet her eyes as she picks at a loose thread on her bedsheet.

“I know something upset you,” Vi continues. “You think I don't know you? you're my little sister. I can tell when something's up.”

This isn't what Jinx wants to talk about right now. Everything is still too fresh. “I don't want to talk about it.”

Vi places a hand on her back, rubbing small circles. Not saying anything, Vi waits patiently.

“You're annoyingly good at getting me to talk,” Jinx mutters.

“It's my sisterly intuition.”

Jinx rolls her eyes, then looks up at the ceiling. This is Vi. Her sister. Jinx feels comfortable with Vi. Her sister's done so much for her.

She knows she should tell her what happened eventually. Sooner rather than later, but she just can't deal with it right now. Not yet.

“Is it about that girl?” Vi asks.

…

The silence in the room is answer enough.

“Ah, I see.”

Jinx sighs. “It's…” There are a million words that flash through her brain. Stupid. Idiotic. Infuriating. “Complicated.”

“I thought you two were doing good. What happened?”

Jinx hesitates. How can she explain what just happened? How can she put into words the hurt, the anger, the betrayal she's feeling?

She looks down at her hands, toying with her fingers. “I thought we were too. Things were going well. I really thought, sis. I really thought-” Her voice cracks, and she immediately stops. “...it hurts, Vi.”

Vi's eyes soften. “Oh, Pow.” She wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. “Hey, hey, it's okay. It's alright.”

It's not alright. It's not alright at all.

She wants to cry. Scream. Hit something. Anything to make this feeling go away.

But all she can do is lean into her sister's embrace, feeling her sister's hand rubbing her arm. “Why does it hurt so much?”

“Well, it's because you really cared about this girl.”

Maybe she did. Maybe she cared too much.

Everything was going well. She felt happy.

But it was all fake.

“She was... she made me feel good,” Jinx says. “I—I thought she liked me, y'know? like, really.”

She really thought that. Despite everything in her mind telling her things couldn't possibly be true, that it was all a lie, a fantasy, she let her guard down, letting herself feel things she thought she'd never get to feel.

And it felt good. It felt great, actually.

Vi sighs. “Maybe. But I saw the way she looked at you. And that... wasn't fake.”

It was hard to miss the way you looked at Jinx. How you looked at Jinx during the drive when you couldn't keep your eyes off her in the rearview mirror. She's seen the way you look at her, how your eyes linger too long on Jinx's every move. And she's not dumb. She was also there during the party, and she saw how you looked after Jinx, how you cared for her.

Vi knows.

“Can I give some sisterly advice?”

And there it was. The advice. The sisterly wisdom. The “words of the wise” moment.

Normally, she'd roll her eyes. Normally, she'd make comments, tease her sister.

Instead, Jinx nods.

Vi continues. “You know I worry about you. You know I just want you to be happy, yeah?”

Jinx nods again. Vi has been there for her since they were kids. After everything Jinx has gone through, Vi's been her rock and her source of comfort.

“I know you really like this girl,” Vi says. “So I'm not going to tell you that everything happens for a reason and all that mumbo jumbo bullshit people say to make themselves feel good.”

Good. She doesn't want any of the positive bs. She hates those phrases people use to try to comfort someone.

“Instead, I'm going to tell you the truth. You're hurting over this. It's going to hurt for a while. Maybe a long while. You feel betrayed, angry, sad, and hopeless, and feeling those things is okay. You shouldn't feel guilty for having emotions. Let yourself feel every feeling. You're not just angry. You're not just sad. You're angry and sad and helpless, and-”

“And stupid,” Jinx interrupts.

“And stupid,” Vi adds. “But don't bottle it up. Talk about it. Vent. Scream. Cry. Scream at a pillow. Cry into that pillow. Let it all out.”

Jinx is quiet. She lets her sister's words sink into her head.

“It's not going to feel good. And at first, you're going to wonder why you're hurting so much, and how you could have been so stupid. But one day, you're going to wake up, and instead of hurting, you're just going to be angry and sad.” Vi gives her a squeeze on the shoulder, and she speaks slowly. “Over time, the anger and sadness will start to fade, and then, only when you least expect it, you're not going to feel any of it anymore. And you'll wonder when you stopped feeling it. It just happens one day… it just happens.”

Her sister's words only serve to further confirm what she already knows—she's going to hurt, she's going to feel like crap. But someday it won't matter anymore. Someday it'll just fade away. It would just happen.

But she refused to hope.

Not this time.

You fooled her. You tricked her good enough.

And yet, the words her sister said made her feel lighter, like a little of the pain had lifted away.

—

Caitlyn looks around, looking for a specific bright blue-haired and then-

“Jinx.”

Jinx pauses in the courtyard, slowly turning around to look at Caitlyn. She glances at her before looking away and adjusting her backpack.

“Can we talk?”

Jinx says nothing, instead keeping her gaze on the side.

Caitlyn continues anyway. “I know it looks bad-”

“You think?” Jinx snaps. “You think it looks bad?”

“I didn't mean for you to get hurt.”

“Oh, you didn't mean to, did you?” Jinx steps forward. “You just thought you could throw money at someone and have your way like you always do. You thought nobody would get hurt.”

“I know… I messed up, and I'm sorry,” Caitlyn replies. “But I only did what I did because I care about Vi, and I wanted to-”

Jinx scoffs, dropping her backpack. “You wanted what?” she sneers. “Was it your plan to send me straight to the damn therapist?”

“Wh-No!” she stammers. “No! Nothing like that. I-” Caitlyn stops. The courtyard is eerily silent. She looks around, noticing how many people are watching.

Jinx could hear them whispering. Whispers of “oh my god” and “what's happening?” and “is that really Caitlyn?” and more.

“Caitlyn, what are you doing here? …and Jinx?”

They pause at the familiar voice. Caitlyn and Jinx turn their heads to the voice that interrupted them... Cassandra Kiramman.

Mrs. Kiramman makes her way over to the girls, looking at the crowd of eyes around them before ushering them inside.

“Office. Now.”

The two girls have no choice but to oblige.

—

Mrs. Kiramman folds her hands on her desk and looks at the two girls in front of her. “I never thought you would do something like this, Caitlyn.”

“Yes, I did it! Okay?!” Caitlyn exclaims. “I'm the shitty person here. I just… wanted to date Vi, and I paid someone to take her on a date so I could get closer to Vi. And yes, that makes me the most horrible, evil person on the planet.” She turns to Jinx. “I really, really messed up. I shouldn't have done what I did to you. I'm sorry.”

“This is not a conversation I expected to have with you, Caitlyn.” Mrs. Kiramman shakes her head. “This is a serious case of... emotional manipulation, I would almost say. You should be old enough to know better.” Mrs. Kiramman's eyes turn from Caitlyn to Jinx. “Do you have a response to all of this?”

“Oh, yeah, sure. I guess, like...” Jinx's hand twitches. “Am I supposed to feel better now? or do I have time to, like, think about it?”

Mrs. Kiramman purses her lips together. “You should feel offended. And you should be upset.” She looks at Caitlyn. “And you should feel upset, too.”

Caitlyn nods. “I do feel upset,” she says. “I feel really awful. Incredibly, awfully awful.”

“You should,” Mrs. Kiramman replies. “Hopefully that means something to Jinx. But I want Jinx to say something.”

Jinx's looks at Mrs. Kiramman to Caitlyn, then to the floor. She scowls at the ground. “I am… upset,” she mutters. “I guess. I mean... yeah, I'm pissed.” She looks at Caitlyn. “I'm pissed.”

“Jinx-”

“NO! Don't try and talk me out of being mad or upset about being used. Because I am mad. I'm extremely pissed, actually.”

Mrs. Kiramman holds up a hand. “That's good,” she replies, stopping the two girls from snapping at each other. “It's good that you're mad. And you have every right to be, Jinx. Caitlyn has been... extremely selfish.”

“Mom…”

“Don't mom me,” Mrs. Kiramman replies sternly. “You know I'm right, and I'm not going to be soft on you. You were incredibly selfish, and you should never do this again to anyone else. Ever.”

Caitlyn winces but nods. “I... I won't.”

Mrs. Kiramman leans in on her desk. “Jinx?” She waits for Jinx to look at her before continuing her question. “Is there anything you'd like to say to Caitlyn?”

Jinx looks at Caitlyn. The other girl looks like a kicked puppy. Caitlyn at least looks guilty, though she feels like her guilty look only proves her manipulation.

She wants about a thousand things to say to Caitlyn. She wants to rip her head off and shove it up her ass. She wants to scream, to punch, and to kick until she's in tears. But for now, one sentence will do.

“Stay away from my sister.”

“What? No, I-”

“Stay. Away. From. My. Sister.”

Caitlyn sputters. “Jinx, listen-”

“You listen! You were willing to pull this bullshit on me. So if you seriously think I'm going to stand by and let you anywhere near Vi after this, you're out of your goddamn mind.”

“Jinx, please-”

“I'm going to tell you once and only once: Stay the hell away from my sister and stay the hell away from me.” Jinx stands up. “I don't know what sort of twisted fantasy you've cooked up in your head, but I'm sure as hell not going to be a part of it.”

Caitlyn looks stricken. “Are you serious?”

“Of course I'm serious!” Jinx snaps. “I'm not a piece in your stupid game of chess, and I'm damn sure not going to be something you play with just to get close to my sister. I don't know if you know this, but my sister means a lot to me. So if your goal was to get in my bad graces, congratulations. You've succeeded with flying colors.”

Caitlyn flinches and looks more stricken than before. But Jinx doesn't care about how bad she feels right now. This is Caitlyn's own damn fault. Caitlyn didn't think that there'd be any negative consequences from her actions. Jinx isn't going to make this easy on her.

—

You walk through the hallway, past students laughing and chatting with each other. Some talk amongst themselves, and you overhear snippets of conversation. But it's all just noise to you.

Nothing matters.

Without her, nothing matters.

You stop in front of your locker, but your eyes linger a few steps away.

Just down the hall is her locker.

It's the same as every other locker, painted white. The only things different are the crude doodles and the pink and blue stickers scattered across the metal door.

It's been a few days since the incident, a few days since she ran away, a few days since it all went wrong.

You haven't seen her since.

After what happened, after screwing things up so badly, you can't even bring yourself to say anything to her. You didn't call. You didn't send texts. You avoided places in the school you know she hangs out in. You didn't do anything.

You can't face her.

You can’t even think about facing her.

Because how could you?

How could you after what you did?

But that doesn't mean you don't think about her. You can't think about anything else.

You are not who I thought you were.

Those words.

They echo in your head.

Those words, over and over, and over.

You keep seeing her in your head. The look on her face, betrayed, heartbroken. You hear her voice, the way it cracked as she spoke. You remember the sting in her eyes that wasn't quite tears, but close enough.

You caused that.

You did that.

So many things replay in your head, and all end with the same conclusion. What you did sucks. It sucked, and it hurt Jinx. It hurt her, and it's not fair. Not one bit.

You open your locker, staring unseeing at the mess of books and notes inside.

But… you're just staring. You were supposed to take out a book for your first class, but you forgot which one you're supposed to grab. You forgot.

Or maybe your mind just can't think of anything that isn't her.

You can picture the way she looks when she laughs. You can hear her voice in your head, talking to you, asking or saying something, but not loud enough for you to make out what the exact words are.

You can just picture it, her smiling wide, showing teeth. A laugh breaking out on her face, and she laughs because of you. You were the one to make her laugh that way. Not because of a prank or some stupid joke. No, you actually made her laugh.

Sometimes you think you spot her in the distance, but it turns out to be someone else. Then something else reminds you of her. A song that plays from a speaker, some colorful drawings on the wall, blue hair amongst a sea of people.

But you're not ready to face her.

You don't know when you will be.

The bell suddenly rings, and you jump slightly.

Right.

Class. You have a class.

Shaking off the thoughts, you pull out the books you need from your locker and throw them in your bag. Slamming your locker door shut, you head down the hall.

You shove past other students in the hallway, not caring about how rough you are. People give you weird looks, maybe even whisper behind your back. But why should you care?

The only person that you should have cared about… hates you.

Hates you. That's the harsh truth of this, isn't it?

You reach your first class, sitting in your usual seat. You toss your bag onto the ground and lean your head on your hands.

Jinx is already here, but she doesn't look up.

You watch her out of the corner of your eye. She's leaning her head on one hand, the other one propping open a notebook. Her eyes and fingers are reading the page, but you doubt her mind is actually focused on the text. You doubt she's even reading it.

Mr. Salo enters, and he does a double take. He looks stunned to see you in class on time. “I assume everyone's had some time to finish up their poems.” He clears his throat. “Would anyone volunteer to read their poem aloud?”

No one responds.

Then-

A voice speaks up suddenly. “Um. I will.”

Your head snaps upwards. Jinx has her hand raised.

Mr. Salo looks surprised, but he recovers quickly. “That's… quite unexpected. I was sure I'd have to force someone to volunteer, but-” he gives Jinx a pleasant smile. “Thank you, Jinx.” He gestures to the front of the class, motioning for her to come up. “Please proceed.”

Jinx stands up, pushing her chair back. Then she makes her way to the front of the room. She looks around, looking at everyone before her eyes drift towards you. She quickly looks away, down at her notebook, and begins to read.

I hate the way you talk to me

And the way you cut your hair.

I hate the way you drive my car.

I hate it when you stare.

She pauses for a moment, swallowing down something before continuing. You can see she's gripping the paper on her notebook rather tightly.

I hate your stupid, dumb Madonna CD

And the way you read my mind.

I hate you so much it makes me sick.

It even makes me rhyme.

Her eyes flick to you again, and then she looks away.

I hate it...

I hate the way you're always right.

I hate it when you lie.

I hate it when you make me laugh,

Even worse when you make me cry.

Her voice cracks, and a tear starts to stream down her face.

I hate it when you're not around

And the fact that you didn't call,

She pauses, taking deep breaths to keep herself from crying.

But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you,

She finally looks up, looking straight at you.

Not even close

Not even a little bit

Not even at all.

Her poem ends there, and her voice quiets. For the first time since she began, there's silence in the room. Everyone else seems to notice, glancing at the other.

But you're stuck staring at Jinx. Your eyes meet hers. Nothing is said, but the moment is enough.

She closes her notebook, turns around, and walks out the door. The rest of the class is dead silent.

You remain seated, your eyes glued on the door where Jinx had left. Seeing her cry like that...

You couldn't turn back time, no matter how much you wanted to. But you made your bed, and now you need to lie in it.

You have to do something to try and make it right.

—

After the last bell rings, students hurry out of the school carrying backpacks and sports equipment. Classes were over for the day, and thankfully, so was her stupid english class.

Reading that damn poem in front of the entire class was a relief. She got it all out without having to talk to anyone else. It was so embarrassing having everyone know about her stupid thoughts and feelings, but if they made fun of her for it, they would get a punch to the face. At least this school year will end soon.

Jinx walks to her car, parked in a corner of the parking lot. She opens her backpack and digs through it, her fingers searching through papers and pencils and other stuff until her hand closes around her car keys. She lifts it up, the keyring rattling.

When she's about to stick the key in the door, she notices something is off.

The driver's side window is down.

Confused, she leans down to look inside the car. She saw something.

Warlock guitar. Sitting in her seat. It was the same one she had been dreaming about. The same one she had been eyeing in the store. The one she could never justify the price or reason to buy. And now, it's right in front of her.

—

You watch as Jinx picks up the guitar carefully, studying every inch of it.

“Pretty nice, right?”

Jinx gasps. She spins around to see you standing behind her, grinning widely.

Her eyes flit between the guitar and you. “Is it for me?” She sets the guitar back in the passenger seat before closing the door.

You nod your head. “For you, and only you.”

“...why?”

“Uh, well, I thought you could use it. You know, when you start your band,” you reply. “Besides, I had some extra cash.”

She narrows her eyes at you. “Why'd you do it? Why the guitar?”

“I… I want to apologize and please—please listen to me just this time.”

She raises an eyebrow at your words but says nothing yet.

You hold up your hands as she glares at you. “Okay, okay,” you start. “You're right to be angry with me. I did something really, really shitty and stupid. And I'm sorry for it.” You look down, avoiding her gaze in shame. “I shouldn't have taken Caitlyn's money. I shouldn't have done it, just for a stupid cash for a stupid deal. I was being selfish and not thinking about how you'd feel.”

You glance up, expecting her to be scowling and yelling at you.

But she isn't. She's just listening.

It gives you the courage to continue. “I—I should have just been honest with you about everything. I knew it was wrong, and yet I still... and I didn't stop myself. No matter how many times I tried to, I just…” You pause, struggling to say how you feel. “I couldn't stop myself from falling in love with you.”

You look at her again, and the corners of her lips twitch as she tries to keep the grin from spreading across her face. “Really?”

You weren't one to stay serious for too long, were you? you step closer to her, your eyebrows shot up, a smirk on your lips. “It's not every day you find a girl who blows up a classroom with fireworks just to get you out of detention.”

She covers her face with her hands and groans as she tries to hide the growing smile on her face. “Oh, God.”

You tried to soak in every inch of her face. If someone had taken a picture of her then, you could easily have stared at it for hours. She's beautiful—truly beautiful when she smiles.

You reach out and place your hand over hers, pulling it away from her face. Her smile fades, but she doesn't struggle with your touch as she looks at you.

“But it was pretty damn awesome, wasn't it?” you add.

You lift your hand and push a strand of her hair behind her ear before leaning in and pressing a kiss to her lips.

She lets you kiss her, closing her eyes and pulling you close. But it doesn't last long as she pulls away suddenly, her brows furrowing. “You can't just buy me a guitar every time you screw up.”

You grimace. “Yeah... I know. But then we can go to a drum set. Or a bass. And, eventually, a tambourine.”

You lean in for another kiss, but she breaks away, continuing to talk. “And don't just think you can-”

You don't allow her to finish. You shut her up with a kiss, your lips muffling her complaint.

Jinx's eyes widen for a second before she closes them. Her hands grip your shoulders. She's not pushing you away—she's pulling you closer. She melts into the kiss, letting her tongue slip out as her hand threads through your hair.

You move your hands down her sides, tracing the curve of her waist, holding her.

Her other hand cups your face, fingers stroking your cheek.

You back her up against the driver's side door of her car, pinning her between the car and your body. You pull away to let her breathe, a thin string of saliva connecting your bottom lips with hers.

Jinx's face is flushed and her lips are swollen. She's panting, her hands tangled up and gripping your shoulder. “I'm still…” she says breathlessly. “I'm still mad at you.”

You chuckle and kiss the tip of her nose. “I know.” You take her hands in yours, fingers tracing over her knuckles. You bring her hand up, kissing the back of her hand. “I'll make it up to you.”

Jinx looks down at your entwined fingers, then back up at you. “As you should.”

—

“1, 2, 3, CHEESE!”

Click.

The camera flash goes off, and you press a kiss on her cheek. Your arm rests across her shoulders, and she's clinging onto your hand, grinning at the camera. She giggles, and you feel her nuzzle herself into your side.

Vi smiles behind the phone. “You two are nauseatingly cute,” she says as she puts her phone down.

You glance over at Jinx. The years have passed, and she's graduated. Now she's wearing an academic cap and a black gown, with her diploma in her hand.

Your heart swells with pride. Seeing her achieve her dream made you happy.

Jinx looks just as happy as you are. She held the diploma tightly, her fingers delicately holding the edge of the paper. “Can't believe I did it,” she whispers to herself.

You give her hand a squeeze, offering silent reassurance.

You remember how hard she worked to get to this point. Late nights spent studying, long hours spent in the library, the stress and anxieties she dealt with.

But she did it.

She did it because she worked her ass off, and she earned it.

You're so proud of her.

You give Jinx a kiss at the temple. Then, you take your arm off her shoulders while you pull something out of your pocket. “I have something for you.”

“Mhm?” She tucks the tassel back under her cap and turns to face you. “What is it?”

You grin as you hold up a...

“A ticket?” she asks, confused.

You hand the ticket over to her. She furrows her eyebrows, then opens her mouth to ask, but then notices something. She looks back at you, then down to the ticket in her hands. She scans over the details, her eyes widening.

“Sweden?”

“Sweden,” you confirm. “And.” You pull out a second ticket from your pocket. “All expenses are paid for. Including the flight, the food, and the hotel room we're staying in.”

Jinx can't form any words, stunned into silence. She just stares at the ticket, flicking the corner of the ticket with her finger.

“I remembered that you said you wanted to see the northern lights. So I thought this…" You motion at the two tickets, “would be the perfect graduation gift.”

“You… you're serious?”

You nod and take her hands in yours. “I wanted to give you the world,” you say, running your thumb across her knuckles. “But seeing as I can't, I settled for the next best thing.”

Jinx says nothing. She's still staring at the tickets. You expect her to have a big, happy smile on her face, but instead, you're surprised to see her eyes beginning to fill up.

You're starting to worry she doesn't like the gift. Did you mess up? “I can get you a different gift if you don't like it,” you say hastily. “If you-”

You're cut off by Jinx throwing her arms around your shoulders, nearly tackling you in a hug. She buries her head in your neck, her arms wrapped around your torso. Her fingers grasp the back of your shirt, holding on tight. Her body trembles, and you feel tears wetting through your shirt.

“Oh.” You're taken aback, but you relax and return the hug. One hand comes down to rest on her back, holding her close to you, and your free hand finds its way to her head. You thread your fingers through her hair while you rub soothing circles across her back. “What's wrong? Did I-”

Jinx shakes her head, her sobs slowly subsiding into quiet sniffles. “N-no, no, it's n-not that...”

“Then… what-”

She raises her head, and when you look at her, you see she's now a mess of runny makeup. “It's the best present I've ever got.” She takes a breath, and you wipe some of the tears from her face. “It just… it means so much to me that… you remembered what I said that day.”

“Of course I remember everything you say.”

Jinx closes her eyes as you use your thumb to wipe the smeared mascara under her eyes. “I love you so much,” she chokes out.

“I love you too.” Your other hand comes to her face, where you wipe the rest of the lingering teardrops and rub your thumb underneath her eye.

Vi lets out a cough, drawing both of your attention to her. You had been so caught up in the moment, you entirely forgot she was there. “Well,” Vi says with a smile. “...that was cute.”

Jinx looks like she's ready to cry for a whole new reason. She gives you a final squeeze before releasing her arms from around your shoulders and stepping away. She straightens her cap.

“Don't.” You reach out and fix her cap, adjusting it on her head.

Jinx lets out a watery chuckle and smacks your hand away. “Quit babying me.”

“Never,” you reply, and you steal a quick kiss.

Then, Jinx turns her head to her sister. “Vi, we're going to see the northern lights,” she tells her.

“Yes, I heard,” Vi says.

“Look!” Jinx shoves the ticket into her face. “We're going to Sweden. We're going to see the northern lights.”

“I know,” Vi replies, taking the ticket and looking down at it. She grins. “Congratulations, Pow. You deserve this.” She puts the ticket back into Jinx's hand. “You better appreciate that gift,” she teases. “Not a lot of people get such an awesome gift.”

“I do,” Jinx says. “I appreciate it a lot.”

“Good.” Vi looks between the two of you, then gives you a stern look. “Keep spoiling her. And I won't punch you.”

“Got it,” you say with a nod.

Jinx hugs the tickets to her chest, already imagining the sights. The northern lights, the snow, the cold temperatures, Sweden.

It's going to be amazing.

“This is going to be the best trip of my life.”

You smile at how excited Jinx is. You look at Vi, who's watching the two of you. Vi's expression softens. She smiles and nods approvingly, and you can see how much she loves her sister, how much she loves seeing Jinx happy.

“Well, I hope it lives up to your expectations,” you tell Jinx, wrapping an arm around her.

“No matter what, I'm spending it with you, so it already will be.”

End.

notes: OH HOLY GAH DAMN WE'VE FINALLY REACHED THE END!! I want to give an enormous, heartfelt thanks to each and every single one of the wonderful people who were supporting me, leaving likes, and most importantly, taking the time to comment! Your feedback honestly fueled my caffeine-driven writing sessions. Now, I love these two ladies way too much to say goodbye to them that easily, so i'll be writing some side stories to keep my stupid brain happy.

taglist: @axolotl-arsonist, @crvcified-kinx, @axoluxy, @dyslexic-dreamer, @urdeadpoet, @iluvshifting, @shootingc, @freementallyillkid, @tr3nzit444s, @powderbomb-jinxed, @chickennuggetsaresootasty, @multiliker, @rick-grimes-girl, @angelsglitch, @blobfishyy @writtenbyhollywood

#arcane #jinx #arcane x reader #arcane jinx #jinx arcane #arcane x female reader #arcane x you #jinx x reader #jinx x female reader #jinx x you #jinx x y/n #jinx imagine #10 things i hate about you #fluff #slight angst

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reocidal · 3 days ago

Text

day 04 : alhaitham x gender neutral reader ; police x criminal ++ modern au!

wc : 3022, swearing, angst??, fluff, horrible humour, reader has a personality and dyed hair, reader is a criminal, occasional minor violence, unestablished relationship for a majority of the fic, happy ending, kissing? art by @/strayuu

author's note : @phantasmaebg pick me choose me love me?

"nice to meetcha," you grin, and alhaitham raises a brow, immediately on guard. this is… not what he'd been expecting.

"i'm… here to arrest you. for your crimes. that you've committed. and are committing. right now." he hopes he does not sound too bored.

"are you, now?" your smile grows bigger, and you toss something to his right. his head whips around instinctively, and you take the opportunity to lunge towards him, withdrawing a concealed knife and digging it ever so slightly into the back of his neck. the blade doesn't cut the skin yet, but before you get to even utter another word, he automatically flips you over his shoulder. now you weren't expecting that.

"ow!" a startled yelp escapes your throat, but you don't waste any time lying on the floor or wallowing in self-pity like he'd hoped. instead, you're back on your feet in a remarkably fast time, and edging towards him again, looking… hopeful?

"y'know," you begin. "i didn't expect you to be, y'know, not the usual potbellied dwarfs they send after me."

he raises a brow in question, not really sure where you're going with this.

"what i'm tryna say is, are they real?"

"are what— what?"

"your, um." you jab at the general direction of his abdomen with a finger. "your abs."

alhaitham, for the first time in a good few years, is rendered speechless. he blinks at you silently, wondering if you are some alien species he has not yet been informed about, then shakes his head. "what? it doesn't matter. now don't move."

you ignore him. "so they're fake?"

"no, of course not!" he hates the fact that he replies.

"can i touch?"

"what? no." alhaitham is appalled.

"aw, okay. well then, i'll get going—"

"no you're not." he takes a step towards you, and then another, and another—

you turn around and grab him by his fancy tie, pulling him down to your level.

"listen, lemme go and i'll show you a real good time when we meet next," you promise.

when you let him go, when you actually leave, alhaitham makes no effort to follow. instead, he just stands and watches you go.

alhaitham's experiencing a day off. not enjoying it, just experiencing it. there's a difference, really. to be honest, he might even hate it a little. he kind of wishes he was back at work — and oh, apparently he's manifested it into existence, too. angry yells ring out all around him, and a single figure — rather familiar if he does say so himself — runs out from the crowd, leaping and diving over the cars on the road. His first — very unpolicemanlike — instinct is to pause. instead of running after the thief, he freezes. subway surfers, says his brain. like the ones on your mother's phone, when you were a kid.

he hates thinking of his mother.

he grimaces but complies, setting off in their direction. for a moment or two, he thinks he might not make it. maybe he'll have let the thief go. but it'll be his second failure this year, and the third in his entire career. in other words, this simply cannot happen. (the second had been the first time you met him; the death of his mother when he was eighteen, the fact that he'd let the killer get away is the first. it's all personal for him, though — none of these show up in his records.) his energy seems to spike, almost, and he speeds up, and the thief — you come back into view. he knows it's you because you turn back to see who's chasing you, and your eyes widen in recognition when you see him. (he's the exact same, and even though your hair is now a concerning mess of purple and green, he still knows who it is, and he still knows it's you. even though you've only met once. no, don't say anything about it, please.)

you slide into an alleyway (even though you know there's a dead end) and he follows, right into your trap, unthinking.

"hi, alhaitham!" you say, much too cheerful for a situation like this. "i'm glad you recognised me!"

"didn't," he forces out; it's a lie.

you smile at him knowing. somehow, it's worse than if you'd just responded.

"you're doing this on purpose," he ventures, guarded. "what do you want from me? how do you know my name?"

"i googled you!" you say brightly. "as for what i want… how do i phrase this?"

you pause, pretending to think for a moment. in his opinion, you lack the ability to do so completely.

"alhaitham, i think we may be soulmates!" you announce with a flourish.

he raises a brow. "no, we're not?"

it comes out as more of a question than an answer.

"well, if you're so sure, what's your wrist say?" you demand, peering at him as if you're going to go over to him and investigate his wrist yourself; he backs away defensively.

"y/n l/n, why?"

"that's literally my name," you deadpan.

his first instinct is to deny it. (how does that even make sense?) the second one tells him to run.

"i'm sure there are a lot of y/ns around," he says at last.

"none with alhaitham on their wrist, i'm sure," you retort, and his heart drops into his, well, ass, for lack of a better word.

"…ah."

"yeah."

alhaitham honestly fears the worst. he's had two other run-ins with you over the past month, and it gets worse each time. like, you're soulmates. okay. he's part of the law enforcement, and slowly but surely falling in love with you, an anonymous but wanted criminal. not okay.

you keep showing up in the most unlikely places — like right now, at his favourite cafe. you're almost sheepish, and you're not radiating your usual confidence, and you don't even make a move to approach him. not until he curses himself and beckons you over, that is. and you're too happy to bound over; you also take the opportunity to make him pay for your coffee and an overpriced, underwhelming pastry.

your hair is pink and blue; "tv girl reference," you tell him, then, "i don't even listen to tv girl."

he doesn't know what a tv girl is, nor does he want to find out, but he assumes it's an obscure internet reference. how are you a basically homeless robber but also chronically online? that's his soulmate for you.

his chin is cradled on his palm as he surveys you with the air of a depressed old professor facing their one hundred and twelfth petri dish; you're going on and on about something unimportant that he doesn't care about very much, just because he likes your voice so much. he understands that it means he's not a very good — boyfriend? partner? situationship? the two of you aren't exactly dating, per se, but whatever you've got going on isn't very platonic either. he decides not to worry about it right now. maybe he'll just enjoy his time with you instead.

"sorry," he says, voice rough from disuse. "can you repeat that again?"

and if you were anyone else, he'd expect you to be upset, maybe annoyed, but you just seem so happy to be able to talk to him. you perk up; "what were you even zoning out about?" you ask before launching back into whatever you were talking about.

but you're barely two sentences in when he interrupts you once more.

"you," he says. "i was thinking about you."

for the first time in a while, you lose the ability to speak, and your face turns a brilliant shade of red.

"oh," you say. "don't say that."

"but it's true," he hums thoughtfully. "i don't do lies."

"oh," you say again. "okay."

he's always been very careful about who he lets in, who he lets see certain parts of him. no one gets to see him at his very best, for example, and no one gets to see him at his worst either. it's just one of the many rules he's set in place for himself. rules make life easier.

you, on the other hand, seem to break all of them simultaneously as you crash into his life repeatedly without notice; you see him display more emotion in the short time that you've known him than people he's known for decades. and the worst part is, he doesn't hate it at all.

alhaitham doesn't hear you approach the first time, head buried in his arms as he tries to block out all external stimuli — the noise cancelling headphones are working, yes, but not as well as they should be. even then, he's quite startled when you pull the hood of his jacket up and lean right into his face.

"fuck off," he says, and your eyes widen. you've never once heard him swear before.

"you good, bro?" you ask, sliding shamelessly into the chair opposite him at his little cafe table.

"i'm not your bro," he says, sitting up straighter. "and i'm fine."

"no you're not," you reply immediately. "you're wearing a hoodie and sweats. something's not right."

"it's just a bad day," he says at last. "i'm having a bad day. there, happy?"

you sigh. "why're you out and about, then? let's go back home."

"no." it comes out harsh, harsher than he wants it to, and you flinch, and he's never felt worse in his life. but you shake your head like a dog shaking off water, and smile at him, big and bright. he thinks you might be the sun, coming down from the sky to cater specifically to him, even though it's raining outside.

"that's fine, we can go to mine instead."

"you have a place?" he asks, so surprised that it slips out before he can stop it. you laugh at his taken-aback face, and even he musters up a smile at that. maybe all is not yet lost, he muses as he gets up.

alhaitham hates the dark, hates not being able to see. the blinds in your dingy apartment are pulled down to the floor, and you haven't bothered to turn the lights on yet. rain pelts the windows around you, and alhaitham's hoodie is slung carelessly over the back of a chair — your only one, actually, but it doesn't matter — which is wildly uncharacteristic; when'd he stop caring about hygiene so much?

you're on top of him — wow! — and he watches you through half-lidded eyes, free hand coming up to play with your hair. it's green again, he notes; this time it's the colour of his eyes. he's not sure how you've ended up here, in bed, instead of at the table where he'd opened up to anyone for the very first time in his life. not that he minds it, really. your fingers are cool around his wrist — your hands are always rather cold — and you press your lips to his soulmate tattoo, and he grins, and maybe his bad day isn't that bad after all.

but just because your relationship — that's still not really a relationship, considering he only sees you on and off every few months — has its highs, doesn't mean it doesn't have its lows, either. after all, you are still from very two different worlds.

it's only natural for him to be upset when you show up at his door again, bloodied and bruised. he knows it's hard for you, he knows this is all you know, but really. he's let you in, so why don't you do the same? or let him do something for you, even if it's in return for everything you've ever done for for him.

so he tells you that (for the sixth time over the course of knowing you, if he's kept count correctly) and as usual, you deny.

you're sitting on his kitchen counter by a stack of books you've taken from his shelves, mouth full of grilled chicken when he comes up to you, looking more serious than usual. though he's between your legs, hands on the counter on either side of you.

"what's up?" you ask after you swallow, confused.

"you need to stop this. stop running around and risking your life for unnecessary shit."

"it's not unnecessary, i need all that," you argue.

"i can get you everything you need and more, so if you think about it logically—"

"fuck logic!" you snap. "i'm good just like this, thanks. besides, i don't want to depend on anyone else, not anymore, anyways."

"and i am risking my job for you, so maybe stop and look at the bigger pciture." alhaitham is calm, eerily so. but you know he has a point. you know this isn't something he — either of you — should be doing. "y/n, please, if you stop this— this foolish thieving you've got going on, i can help you, the way you need."

"i don't want your help," you retort before realising that this is escalating too fast. you decide to change the subject instead. "there's a lot of other things you're giving me, and it's enough. hell, it's way too much!"

"what do i even give you?" he asks, genuinely intrigued. you make a funny face at him, and his curiosity turns into distaste as he grimaces.

"you're disgusting."

something between a scoff and a lugh escapes you, and you get up, placing your plate by the sink as you head towards where you kept your shoes. "you're even worse, mr. respectable police officer. helping out a lowly thief like me? on a regular basis too!"

he glares at you, crossing his arms defensively. "you know there's a reason."

"i think i forgot." you smile without remorse; it's obvious that you haven't forgotten anything. alhaitham, for one, knows your memory is top tier. "actually, i think i need you to remind me again."

he makes a discontented noise low in his throat. "it's because we're soulmates, because i'm in love with you. there, are you satisfied?"

"very." you are. "so gimme a kiss, alhaitham, and i can go on my merry way— see you at my next crime scene, maybe?"

"maybe not." he leans back when you lean up, and your lips turn down in response.

"what, hate me that much?"

he shakes his head. "give it a try, please. not being a nasty little thief, i mean."

you roll your eyes. "and what do i get in return? exactly, nothing!"

he sighs. "c'mon, pretty—"

"what'd you call me?"

alhaitham purses his lips. "you have nothing left to lose, i'll take care of you. we can have an actual—"

"my honour doesn't allow that."

"what honour do you have, living off— off shit you steal?" his voice, in contrast to his words, is surprisingly gentle. "when you know i could help you make a change."

you swallow. no one's happy now.

"like i said," you begin, and your voice wobbles. "like i said, i should get going now."

"alright." he moves automatically now, like he's only doing it because he's being forced to, deflated, like something in him has been extinguished. he doesn't attempt to talk to you again, although he does kiss you goodbye like he usually does. it's only when you've walked halfway down the drive does he speak again.

"y/n," he calls; you turn around, caught off guard by the sudden use of your name. "we're soulmates. no matter what, you'll always end up with me. try to fight it all you want, but it's the truth. it's as true as the sun in the sky and the books you read."

and he shuts the door, and you don't see him again for the next six months.

when you do see alhaitham again, there's not only a defeated look in his eyes — as usual, every time he finds you — but one in yours too. you're covered in dirt and grime and blood, knuckles bruised a sick mix of blue, purple, and green that he knows will look even worse later. you look like a cornered creature, feral, flighty, ready to attack at any given moment. your poise looks relaxed, but from years of experience and knowing you he knows that it's nothing less than a disguise. you're so on guard, you're physically unable to let it down around him.

"what happened?" he takes a single, firm step towards you, but nothing more. no sudden movements, no actions that will cause you to work yourself up further.

"almost got caught," you force out. you're panting, voice raspy, eyes following all his movements.

"oh." he softens, visibly. "well. not much i can do now, right?"

"yeah."

"unless…"

"yeah, i'm done."

he tries to hide the smile that creeps up on his face, and fails miserably.

you let him take you home that night; whatever inside you that had been fuelling all of this seems to have finally burned itself out. you let yourself cry when he bandages you up, rough hands tender upon yours. and when he begs you, again, to allow him to take care of you, you don't refuse.

opening up to people is hard; he knows that better than anyone else, and when you do begin to speak, eyes trained on your lap, where your bandaged hands fidget with each other. your voice is shaky, but you are speaking, and he is listening. and in the little piece of the world that's yours — you, and him, and the house that you now share — that is enough.

the robberies around town die down all of a sudden; coincidentally the records of the perpetrator of those aforementioned crimes are all erased due to a mishap while saving some files. alhaitham's records are perfectly clean; better officers than him — if any — are found few and far between. and no one makes the connection between you and the infamous thief in town.

and it's while it's not the easiest or most enjoyable ride ever, the two of you do get your happy ending. you think you don't deserve it, but he knows you do.

#alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #alhaitham x you #al haitham x you #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham fluff #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin x y/n #genshin fanfic #genshin fluff #alhaitham genshin #genshin imagines #genshin impact #alhaitham #al haitham #mine🫀

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belovedivies · 2 days ago

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裏 ft. yuika

cw: spoiler alert for yuika's backstory, mentions of typical-canon violence and death, emotional manipulation, suicidal thoughts, general bad vibes. pre-simon arc, implied kageo/yuika. masterlist

Sometimes, Yuika wondered what life would have been like if her whole clan hadn't been eradicated.

She's not delusional enough to think it would be a fairy-tale happy ending or anything. Ever since her childhood, those days weren't an easy path filled with sunshine and rainbows that people loved to sing praises about: a fuck ton of rules to obey as the future heiress, long indoor training hours until her heart threatened to stop, and maybe candy for a treat on rare occasions because, for all the wealth her Wandering Ghost Blade clan had had, she couldn't afford the luxury of simply being a kid.

It's no fun for a girl like her. Soft hands, big smiles, and a head full of ideas—all Yuika ever wanted was someone she could talk to. The servants would brush her hair, draping her body in the finest silk on every birthday as Yuika browsed through an array of perfumes expensive enough to feed an entire nation of starving people. What started as a delight that her muted world had gained some temporary vibrant colors soon became another burgeoning monotony. When those bottles filled up a whole room and her maids' comments felt more like bittering jabs than they were applauds, the cheerful child in Yuika also died a little.

But at least she still has her mother.

Kageo, too. The two people who made her feel like an actual person somewhat rather than a statue on a pedestal. They just didn't have the chance to be around that much in the past, and sadly so was she. Day-in and day-out etiquette lessons and sword practices ensured that none of her time could be wasted on mundane interactions. Her uncle was a strict man, and for years, Yuika was stuck in this confusing loop of thanking the man for what he had done for the clan when her father couldn't, resenting him for the way he had treated Kageo, and fearing that one day he might turn his back against the ones he called family. Still, he did what he had to do for her and the clan. Even until his dying breath, the old man had only wanted the best for Yuika.

But what had she wanted for herself?

What if there hadn't been a firelit graveyard filled with rotting, gas-filled corpses that Kageo had carried her away from on that fateful night, but a cozy lawn in the summer moonlight?

Deep within the mansion, tucked safely underneath the futon's duvet, Yuika would sleep like a baby. Her duties wouldn't be any less daunting, her people wouldn't look at her as anything but a pretty doll on display, and her life would still be laid out for her.

But maybe…

Maybe she could spend more time with her mother. Flashed her doe eyes and begged hard enough so that she would let her sweet girl tag along for afternoon tea. Yuika missed her gentle touches; how she wanted to sit on her mother's lap and hear the woman talk about her day again, just once more.

Maybe, with some effort and miracle, she could convince her austere old uncle to mellow out a little. He shouldn't be so harsh on people for things they couldn't control. Yuika used to wish he would see how unfair he was and how it would be so much better if he stopped viewing everyone outside the clan as a threat.

Maybe she could finally talk to Kageo without risking him another brutal beating.

Maybe she could have been more than a husk filled with vengeance and hatred.

Maybe she could be normal.

But her whole family was dead; her hands were soaked in the blood of two thousand individuals and counting; her name and Kageo's plastered all over Japan and the FBI's warrant.

Sometimes, Yuika wondered if she regretted the person she had become.

Maybe she did.

—

The second time Yuika thought about it rationally, her heart in her throat and your hands on her shoulders, she realized that she hated this life too.

It's fine. At least they weren't on the run anymore; one week after Raphael took the pair of street rats in and gifted them a fancy ship. Kageo was out discussing whatever with the new boss, but Yuika couldn't be bothered. All the time wasted on revenge, all the things she wanted to say to him had turned into her barely saying anything meaningful at all. A hundred miles away from land on the Ghost Cruise, Yuika heard the waves and saw the barely-there ray of a distant lighthouse through the window; your fingers carded through her hair, the phantom of a caress.

"How's Yuu-chan settling in, hmm?" you chirp. "Is everything to your liking?"

Glory Club seemed to have a penchant for idiosyncrasy, she thought. Both in the way this place functioned and how its subjects were treated. She wasn't complaining; she finally got a place to stay and a large tub to relax in, sprinkled with a few drops of lavender oil and rose petals. Yuika reeled her mind back to reality, letting out a small chuckle of her own when your fingers curled around a lock of her hair with more force than needed.

"Everything's perfect," she said, wetting her tongue when she remembered she had one. "Kageo and I would like to thank you again for your kindness."

Your grip loosened instantly as you let out a giggle, each titter cutting the back of Yuika's skull like a sharp blade. "Raphael's kindness," your jollity was still there, fingertips massaging the shampoo into her scalp. "But I'm glad; you're definitely looking better than you were last week, Yuu-chan!"

She allowed herself a humorless smile. "Do I?"

"Of course!" another enthusiastic remark. When your thumbs grazed the back of her neck, Yuika briefly wondered how many lives those hands had taken. "Your hair feels softer now, your eye bags are gone, and even your mood seems to increase too— well, you killed two of my brother's underlings today, but that's okay! Yuu-chan is happy, right?"

Because she was finally home.

In some ways, she hadn't changed at all. Yuika wasn't any less scared or clueless than the girl she had been thirteen years ago on that stormy night, rushing through the villa barefoot to reach her mother's chamber. She opened up to you almost too easily, finding solace in your touch like a bear that had been melted into butter. You reminded her of the woman so much; it's weird. It's so fucking weird. You're so fucking weird. Who the fuck invited someone they barely knew for a bath?

There was this sudden, crushing silence, save for the sound of water sloshing as you rinsed her hair. Yuika pursed her lips—neither a yes or no to your earlier query—and said your name. Quietly. Hesitantly. Like she was the one giving the question instead.

But you pressed closer, every inch of your front touching her back, and somehow, somehow Yuika already knew your answer before you even voiced it out.

"Hmm? What is it, Yuu-chan?"

"Why us?"

Why chose them?

Why brought them in and showered them in benignity?

She shouldn't be thinking this much, but you nuzzled into the junction where her neck met her shoulders; hands circling her waist underneath the water like a mother's embrace on a winter eve; smile imprinting her skin like an uncle's rare approval; eyes packed with a loving warmth like the daisies her and Kageo smelt that July noon in the bamboo trail behind the clan, and Yuika wanted to curl up and die, just a little bit.

"Yuu-chan, let me say this."

She let you.

"I remember when you first came in," you traced some unknown, asinine shapes on her stomach. "Tired, hopeless, and burnt out. You were a shell," the motion stopped as your hands left her midriff to dance spider-quick up her arms. "Barely eating, barely sleeping."

She was barely even alive when Kageo dragged her sorry ass from whatever shitty motel they hid in all the way to Korea.

"Who took you in? Who helped you?"

Kageo, I'm hungry. Where are we gonna go? We killed them; we killed them all. I didn't fucking choose this life. I never wanted us to be fugitives. You should just leave me be. Kageo, Kageo! I heard the sirens—

"Y-You," Yuika choked out, the gentle waves on the side of the ship ringing like a thousand agonizing screams in her ears. "You helped us."

"Raphael helped you." you corrected her, softly. Hands resting on her shoulders like the starting point of a never-ending game. "Because?"

"We need him."

"And?"

"He needs us."

"To?"

"Kill Peter."

"That's right," you patted her shoulders, then her hair. Each digit rubbed against her scalp as if nothing was amiss. As if they weren't on a giant cruise in the middle of the ocean, and Yuika wasn't trembling with the weight of her existence.

When she stilted, you giggled. Louder this time. "You're very talented, Yuu-chan," squeezed her. "But you're too soft; you don't belong in this world."

Not when the guilt of what she did still shadowed her.

Not when the gore and carnage wore her skin and burnt into her flesh.

Yuika couldn't learn to love the danger this line of work brought if what actively kept her alive now was the thought that one day she would get away from it.

"Shh," you cooed, smoothing out her still-damp hair before she could muster the strength to weep. "I know, Yuu-chan. You're not here to stay. Do your part well, and you can leave. Both of you."

"I," Yuika gritted her teeth. "But I did so many unforgivable things—"

"I've done far worse." the girl almost flinched when you tugged sharply on her hair, but instead of sharp pain, there was this fuzzy, suffocating warmth spreading down her spine. "So don't think too much, okay?" you continued, chiding her with an amused laugh. "Silly Yuu-chan," a soft sigh left your lips. "You deserve happiness too!"

"I… I do?" she mutters, small and helpless.

"I wouldn't think otherwise," another chuckle. The water rippled and splashed around them as she felt you stand up, followed by a cheerful, "Let's go; those two might be back soon." that strangely, anomalously brought a wry curl to her lips.

But when Yuika turned her head around, you weren't smiling at her.

taglist: @yaoduriaa @anjeliquesworld @crazycatwithscissors @i-anoobis-i @galaxyquirks @poppytartt @funsizedlaziness @missroro @hot-mexican-rat @hdstudio-045 @jaazoldyck @izzatune

#killer peter #killer peter manhwa #manhwa #manhwa x reader #killer peter x reader #reader insert #x reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #killer pietro #killer pietro x reader #killer peter yuika #yuika x reader

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spider-ghoul · 2 days ago

Note

ok but like leo valdez x cabin 7! Reader??? Im a sucker for the engineer x artit dynamic tbh♥️

Fire trope actually thanks for the req!

Leo valdez x apollo!artist!reader

R is gender neutral btw!!!

Cw's: none i think? Let me know if i need to add them!

Okay so friends to loves to the MAX with this one guys

Leos such a friends to lover guy in general btw

Anways cough cough..

Leo likes drawing, really! He has had to make sketches for projects from the argo 2 to blue prints for smaller projects

Though he does like it...he was never the best.

Eventually, he needed to draw something to scale... Which he wasn't great with.

He ended up asking around, and got pointed to You To help him!

He'd flirted with talked to you a few times before, and thought you were cool enough so...he asked for your help!

You ended up going to bunker nine with him, and sketching out a few parts for him

He watched you draw (hes memorized by how you can just...make somthing like that)

(if you get anxious being watched drawing me too, but and Leo probably wouldnt notice unless you asked him)

When you were done, he was all smiles because thats so cool- hello???

And you ask him if anything needs tweaked, and he says no, but is already flirting with you again

You insist on staying for a bit because, 'i already helped...cant I stay to see the finished product?'

And hes insanely happy about this

Someone cute to keep him company?? Yessir.

And you watch him work (you're memorized because how can he just...make somthing like that??)

He talks to you when he works (dropping the flirting a bit)

You guys end up getting along really well!

You're there for an hour or two, and you're super excited when it's done

Then, you start hanging out more

Mostly, you sitting down on some couch in bunker nine with your sketchbook and him making stuff on a workbench a few feet away

Talking, goofing, flirting..

At some point, doodling Leo became a very common pass time when you were with him

The 'to lovers' part of your friendship was so natural with him-

You both had such heart eyes and its pretty obvious so however you guys get together is just so normal (and fluffy)

Once you guys start dating.... Its pretty great

Again, hanging with him can be quiet flirting in bunker nine or laying with him and mumbling bad jokes

But it can also be sitting with him at the campfire, laughing with his friends or casual dates, all full of laughter and eyerolls

Ive mentioned this in my other works for him bit hes so clingy-

Tugging on your belt loops, putting his head on your shoulder, hand on your thigh, kisses on your cheeks

You've also made him show you some of his drawings, and you giggle because they look kinda funky

He does eventually get better at drawings, though you always do the blueprints for his projects

#leo valdez pjo #leo valdez fic #leo valdez fanfic #leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x you #leo valdez headcanons #leo valdez x apollo reader #leo valdez fluff

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sunnysidesevenup · 2 days ago

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Okay since apparently more people than me have seen those “fellow honest doesn’t know basic math” takes/jokes whatever lol, I’m gonna ramble about how I write Tilly and Fellow because they’re SO FREAKING SMART and they have very different skill sets born out of their respective lives. Obviously this is all made up headcanons for Fellow since we know basically nothing about him lmao so. do with my headcanons what you will ig.

First off I believe Fellow probably had some basic schooling and either got kicked out of the school itself, or whatever guardians he had stopped sending him because it “wasn’t worth it” or smth. I don’t think his resentment would be born out of just not going y’know? So I think he definitely learned basic math and writing/reading/science, etc from a more formal education, but all his actual practical knowledge is entirely him seeking it out on his own. He definitely went to a library and used those resources to learn anything that could help him.

Fellow does all the budgeting in the household, managing rent, electricity, food bills, etc. his sewing skills help cut down on clothing cost a little, and he has various skills from taking odd jobs. He definitely started out only doing honest work but then rapidly realized that no one was paying him very much, and none of it could cover the cost of anything, and he just probably slowly slid into less than legal means to make money. He’s VERY good at weighing risk vs reward, can talk his way out of things, and in general is just really, really clever.

Tilly on the other hand has zero formal schooling, and all his knowledge is entirely from listening to other people talk. He doesn’t ask anyone to teach him anything because that will put him in a vulnerable position, so he pretends he knows things until he figures it out. He also has no need for any type of budgeting considering he doesn’t stay anywhere and mostly just convinces people to give him things, so his math skills are much weaker and he’s happy to have Fellow do any of that. His reading is also not great, considering it’s hard to learn to read from just watching other people and he doesn’t seek any resources out. He’s also dyslexic, so the few times he was trying to learn, what people were saying was NOT matching up with what he was seeing, so he gave up. Fellow tries to teach him some stuff and Tilly straight up believes he’s messing around because what do you MEAN the letters are not supposed to float around and flip??? They eventually figure out what’s going on though.

However, his ability to read people and his memory for what people tell him is incredible. He listens VERY closely to what people are saying and then incorporates it into whatever lies he’s telling that week, which is how he’s able to convince certain high society people that he’s actually one of them sometimes. People often complain to him about their work life, so if the company is big enough, he’ll steal whatever he needs to get into the building and wait long enough for them to believe they just lost it. And then he’ll just walk in, identify people from description and context clues, and just greet them like he works there. I mean, the company is pretty big, so if this guy knows their name and work drama then surely he works there, right? (He’s stolen so many things this way lmao).

Tilly can learn the history of places, local stories, the best and worst areas of the city, who to avoid and who is helpful, maps and directions for wherever he is, just from talking to people, and he remembers it all even months later. He’s good at blending in and imitating people’s attitudes and knowledge.

They are both incredibly skilled at using people’s own egos and expectations against them. Fellow tends to use flattery and Tilly uses distraction, so teamed up together it’s hard not to end up doing what they want. They’re good at surviving separately, but things are much easier together. Tilly is often surprised by how quick Fellow can make calculations in his head, and Fellow is often surprised when Tilly can recite things he learned years ago from overheard conversations like it happened yesterday.

Both of them are still terrible at cooking, though, so congrats to Gidel for being the only person in the household who can make any thing edible.

#foxglove - sunny’s ships! ☀️#twst tilly oc #fellow honest #ernesto foulworth #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst oc #twst original character

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viiinx · 3 days ago

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- Isn't imperialism something that all the Lord commit? Beside keeping power over all of Fodlan in every ending, Claude hold power over Fodlan and intervene military with his far superior army as King of Almyra while Dimitri keeps the stolen Sreng territory ( the diplomatic relation does better in some of Sylvain ending, but no mention of relishing the annexed southern half is made ).

And I would say Edelgard is not driven by a desire for imperialism. In hopes, she ally with Claude and it's Dimitri that chose to opt out neutrality to fight the Empire. You cannot attack the Church without attacking the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus and in a war of this scale the Alliance necessarily get involved. Otherwise she has no goal of conquest, as shown by her words towards Brigid ( Petra in chapter 18 explore, Petra endings in CF, Petra support especially in Hopes ) and Almyra ( Insurmontable paralogue )

- "An ideal you have no way of uphold" how so? Edelgard is pretty much shown to succeed in CF, it's what stated and indirectly showed in numerous endings?

- I think an important element to consider is that Edelgard is not only here to get rid of crest. She's explicitly here to get rid of the nobility too ( Edelgard support with Ferdinand (A), Caspar (A) Lysithea (A), Hanneman (B), Constance (A), CF event 10 "Facing the Kingdom" and many other, so many CF endings, etc ).

- Do they actually depend that much on Relics for survival? Holst is one if not the strongest soldier in Fodlan despite lacking a Crest and a relics, and even the strongest crest bearer like Dimitri and Rodrigue can fall easily to simple soldier.

- To be fair what Sylvain is suggesting kinda would be present without the Church influence. While it's not exactly his idea of a flame orb, the Church banned oil "Flammable Black Water: A sticky black liquid was discovered in northern Faerghus. It burns fiercely and emits a highly toxic gas." explicitly for its nature as a weapon "The use of this wicked substance was forbidden by decree of the archbishop for the following reasons:

1. Misuse could result in accidental death.

2. It could be used tactically by those lacking magical ability.

3. Competition for it could cause strife.".

- Dimitri and Edelgard AM dialogue is complex. To me they're both not really listening, their discussion was kinda useless. Dimitri says he comes to try to understand her actions but never actually does and Edelgard is already sure in her belief, none of Dimitri points are something she didn't reflect on before. On both side, they are already convinced of their ideal and aren’t there to change their mind.

- To me it's again important to consider Edelgard wants to abolish crest but also nobility which is very tied to it. Correct me if I'm wrong but the Faergus noble don’t show interest on that point, and in the case of Dimitri pretty strongly maintain it. As an example in one of his ending says he "secure their line as a dynasty that lasted for generations to comes". Or in Hopes he directly state he protect the Church because he needs the Church doctrine to legitimate his power.

As for Edelgard not collaborating it's because it's too risky and require information she does not and cannot have easily. You know what the Blue Lions want because you know them well, but Edelgard’s does not. Fhaergus is known as very traditional and seems to value the crest the most so it’s rational to generally assume they won’t be sympathetic toward reform against. It’s especially the case since the Blue Lions don’t really publicy show their disdain towards crest pre-timeskip. Dimitri even defend them with the same argument you're using on their necessity. Furthermore, Edelgard would risk to give her plan away if she were to try to make her intentions clearer to find ally. She's in a situation were she cannot alert the Church or it's ally ( which Faerghus is ), as well as constantly navigate TWSITD watchful gaze. She does make a careful attempt with Claude in pre-timeskip VW but it does not lead to anything sadly.

- Why is the Church not bad? They banned life changing invention ( the shadow library ), they censor book ( VW cutscene and the shadow library ), they lie about Fodlan whole history, they directly lie about the very religion they're propelling, they show hostility towards other religion ( the woman at the altar in the Abyss ) and non-believer ( Claude and Leonie support, "Dare not doubt or deny the power or existence of the goddess." from the book of Seiros ), in the case of the Nabateans they keep the same figure in power for centuries and present themselves as saints, they military intervene in other country to defend their interests ( all of white clouds ) and they maintain power over the nobility of each nation especially Faerghus, their religion is used to legitimate nobility and especially the Emperor/King/Duke through the idea that crest are a gift of the goddess, etc

my evolution as a fe3h fan is rlly funny to me lol. i played the game for the first time when i was 15 and now at 19 im playing through three hopes (yes im super late dont ask) and the fact that there have been times where ive been obsessed with EVERY HOUSE is rlly funny to me

at the start i was a claude and golden deer stan through and through bc funny meme house and also the nemesis fight

then when i was starting to get a little more politically minded i fell into the “edelgard did nothing wrong” camp because. yeah!!!! meritocracy!!!! united!!!! fuck religion!!!

and now as an adult with a lot more awareness and a lot less edgy atheism i came to the conclusion that not only is imperialism and destroying people’s lives for an ideal you have no concrete way of upholding bad, but the entire “let’s get rid of crests” argument is not even a solid one because it centers adrestia and doesn’t take into account the other two regions’ need for heroes relics.

correct me if i’m missing something or if i’m wrong, but no one in adrestia’s nobility actually has a hero’s crest. if they have crests, they’re saint crests, and saint crests have compatibility with sacred weapons, which are different to heroes relics because anyone can use them without turning into a beast.

additionally, adrestia doesn’t have any immediate neighbors that could cause them trouble. it doesn’t directly border a non-fodlan country, and they seem to have taken care of their brigid situation by kidnapping petra. the empire has no immediate threats.

the kingdom and alliance tho????? they border sreng and almyra respectively, which seem to invade at the drop of a hat and force houses gautier and goneril respectively to be in constant combat. those two houses literally DEPEND ON THEIR RELICS FOR SURVIVAL. until someone figures out a better way for them to defend their lands, they NEED crests!!!

obviously this isn’t necessarily a good thing, since we see the path that miklan and rufus as crestless older sons go down, but it’s not like the kingdom is exactly keen on keeping this in place either. in three hopes they talk a ton abt how crest bloodlines are dying out and how something needs to change. hell, sylvain is someone who directly benefits from faerghus’ crest dependency and yet in his supports with shez, he’s going and devising powerful weapons that people without crests can use!!! we see time and time again that the young nobles of faerghus are interested in the same things edelgard is: establishing a more equal society, and decreasing the need for crests. but why doesn’t she just collaborate with them to that end???? why doesn’t she hear dimitri out when he tries to talk her out of continuing on this path????

oh yeah. the church.

i’m probably gonna yap abt the church later lol i’m running out of steam on this ramble. tiktok is banned and so this is what i’ve resolved to do while i sip my morning coffee lol bear with me

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kaija-rayne-author · 3 days ago

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I did it. I beat Veilguard a second time. On normal/hard as a warrior.

It really wasn't me. The damned game was made for warrior players. Fuck the rest of us. I can't describe how bad I am at tanking. I even asked my husband if I was better at tanking than I thought. He laughed his ass off. Two votes for how bad I am at it. 🤣😅.

I fucking flew through VG in half the time it took me to do it with my rogue. That much of a time invested difference can't be just because they fixed bugs (they did), or because I knew the game (I generally have the working memory of a goldfish). And I didn't break any keys from having to use them too often. (Broke the W key playing my rogue because I had to flip out of the way so much.)

The game is just unbalanced, sooooo badly. Heavily weighted and maximized for warrior players who like bashing barrels. Gods. Still, why the barrels?

This time, I knew what I was in for, so didn't sit there nigh paralyzed with horror at what they did to one of my favourite franchises. So I caught more that I hadn’t.

Still hate it. I'd never have gotten through if I hadn’t been high. I can see why players who don't give a shit about lore, world building, and well-designed characters might like it. Or even folks who just prefer fighting. It's just 1. Not for me. And 2. Not even remotely Dragon Age.

What a waste of so many things.

Now I can happily uninstall it and move the fuck on (I hope).

And for fuck’s sake, that 'romantic ending' for Solavellan is still as bloody romantic as a tooth extraction. Sans anesthesia.

Emmerich, however, is my darling. I truly, honestly loved his romance.

I'm a sucker for a truly romantic gentleman. The difference between Lucanis romance and Emmerich romance is ridiculous.

I'm an editor/romance writer. I have a clue.

I will say that if it hadn’t been trying to be Dragon Age, it probably would've been a perfectly fine mid-level on quality, generic fantasy hack n'slash.

And it likely would've sold better, too. Those sales numbers... ouch.

This is probably gonna come off arrogant, but I would actually like to be wrong sometimes.

The BioWare I loved has definitely died a slow, wasting death. I won't be purchasing their products moving forward. I won't be touching a single thing Epler and Busche have anything to do with in future either.

Rest in Peace, the BioWare who gave us DAO/DA2/DAI. The one who set the standards for CRPG. The one who invented companions in games. The one that had good writing, decent storylines, amazing characters and were made with love. None of them were perfect, but they weren't DAV.

The BioWare of today? Yeah, I hope it sinks as if it had a million anchors tied to it. Epler is gone, Busche is gone. Sink already.

#dragon age #solas #solavellan #dragon age inquisition #dragon age veilguard #veilguard #da veilguard #dragonage #bioware critical #dragon age critical #dragon age 2 #dragon age Veilguard Critical #DA Veilguard critical #DAV critical #DATV critical #Veilguard critical

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mysticstronomy · 2 days ago

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WHAT ARE DARK STARS??

Blog#474

Saturday, January 25th, 2025.

Welcome back,

A star dies. A sudden flash of light signifies the end in a supernova explosion. This, however, is only part of the life cycle of stars, as the rich materials created during the death throes of the star are ejected into space by the supernova.

When the next generation of stars form, they sweep up the leftovers of the supernova, accreting the metals that the dying star produced — metals being the term that astronomers use for anything heavier than hydrogen and helium. Metals are important; without them, the disc of gas and dust surrounding a newly forming star could not create rocky planets. But if new stars recycle the metals produced in the deaths of old stars, what did the very first stars do?

The universe began with the Big Bang, which created the gases hydrogen and helium, trace amounts of lithium and perhaps beryllium as well. Matter began to clump together, pulling in ever more material through gravitational attraction. It may have been dark matter — the mysterious substance that has yet to be directly detected — that began to accumulate first. This then drew in the ordinary matter, the stuff we can see, such as hydrogen and helium. Together the dark and ordinary matter created what is known as a 'minihalo', although the name is somewhat misleading, as minihalos had masses around a million times that of our sun.

It was in the mini halos that the first stars were born 200 million years after the Big Bang.

The first stars are known as Population III stars, and none have ever been observed, as they are too faint. The first stars had to make do with what they had available, and formed from clouds containing only hydrogen and helium. When they died in supernovae explosions, they produced the first metals for the subsequent population of stars, Population II, which have a small proportion of metals. These went on to birth the metal-rich Population I stars we have today.

The dark matter in the minihalo may have done more than bring elements together — it might also have been present deep within the first stars. These stars are known as 'dark stars', due to the dark matter within them, although they would have actually shone very brightly.

Everything that we can see and detect — the stars and galaxies — only makes up a puny 5% of the universe, whereas dark matter comprises 25%. The rest is made of dark energy, another oddity thought to be responsible for accelerating the expansion of the universe. As CERN notes, dark matter does not interact with ordinary matter, and it does not produce any light. We only know that it must be there as its immense gravitational force tugs on ordinary matter.

One of the leading theories attempting to explain the invisible mass in the universe is a hypothetical particle known as a WIMP — a weakly interacting massive particle. 'Weakly' interacting refers to their relationship with ordinary matter. However, they would still interact with themselves. In fact, if two WIMPs collided with each other they would destroy each other in a process known as annihilation. This is because theories, such as this study at the University of Maryland, predict that WIMPs are their own 'antiparticles'.

Originally published on https://www.space.com

COMING UP!!

(Wednesday, January 29th, 2025)

"WHAT CAUSES A STAR TO SHINE??"

#astronomy #outer space #alternate universe #astrophysics #universe #spacecraft #white universe #space #parallel universe #astrophotography

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duck-ducks · 1 day ago

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Thomas rents a semi truck that he affectionately nicknames Dolly.

“Dolly” however, just so happens to be a very embarrassed, very unamused, undercover Optimus Prime.

She was a beauty.

Gleaming red paint, newish tires, and a cute face like decal on the steering wheel and grill.

And now she was all Thomas Winston’s, for the short foreseeable future as she was a rental from the company he worked for and in fact they had insisted that he take the very nice and somewhat new looking truck for his next haul. For half the price he would have expected too.

Why they specifically wanted this truck to get a bunch of crates of rocks, who knew and honestly who cared. The engine ran nicely and she drove smooth as hell. Thomas wasn’t about to complain about the oddities a bunch of pencil pushers had about which trucks were to pick up some shiny rocks.

Getting on the highway this early ensured the road was damp and empty. That worked out pretty well for Thomas, he was quite fond of just driving on the open road with just he, himself, and him. The only sound being the engine running, the tires on the road and, the radio quietly playing some country song about how great red dresses and beer are.

It was perfect.

Now all he needed was a name for the truck.

Thomas had nicknamed every truck he rented no matter how long he was in them, some little thing would stick out about the truck, the job, or just general events. Thus far the only thing was the insistence that this particular truck be taken on the haul but nothing nickname worthy so far.

He patted the steering wheel. “We’ll find something to call you, I'm sure.”

The song on the radio ended and the host began talking way too excitedly for this early in the morning, just as he thought to change the station the next song began. A song he knew well, it was one of his daughter’s favorites, Jolene by Dolly Parton. Madeline was all grown up now but when she was little she would dance around the kitchen and living room with Sherry, the most beautiful woman in the world that he got to call his wife, while Dolly Parton played.

Dolly had first played first on a radio that had both cassette player and cd player while matching brunette heads twirled and hopped around and then later on an ipod speaker, some of that hair a little grayer and now on a bluetooth speaker that you can talk to, a single all gray head swayed and hummed.

It was always Dolly that he would come home to then and after this haul was done he hoped it would be Dolly that he came home to now.

Jolene ended, and with a few words from the radio host played ‘here you come again.’

“Well how about that? You know this will be my last drive and I hope I’ll be hearing a lot more like this once I’m home more." The little face on the steering wheel didn’t look back at him. “Dolly is as good a name as any and you seem as good a truck.” and thus it was decided the pretty red truck would be Dolly.

~~~

Optimus was not amused by this development.

He didn’t like that he needed a driver for the long drive. He didn’t like that none of the agents who knew what he was didn’t have the right license to drive him so that had to get someone else, which meant he would have to go the entire drive stuck in his alt mode and unable to talk, thankfully it could be made in one day.

To make matters even worse his high command had insisted he keep his internal comm on just in case something happened, so whoever was on monitor duty could hear everything that his driver said.

Including his delightful new nickname.

He was unable to voice his annoyance while his driver was still around however he was currently working on a scathingly worded email to his two dear “friends.”

And because the universe would not grant Optimus any peace. “I ain’t making fun of you Prime, I mean I wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings you’re just a purty little thin-” Ironhide wasn’t able to fully finish his remark before Ratchet silenced him via what Optimus hoped was a fist to the side of the head. “Hey! I thought medics weren’t allowed to cause harm!”

“Don't worry I’m sure the thickness of your helm will have protected you.” technically they were only supposed to contact Optimus if there was an emergency, but Ironhide as one of his oldest friends decided it was his duty to make fun of him whenever the chance was given. Ratchet was but an innocent bystander to the scoffery and was coming to his rescue- “Obviously you have to be careful with your words around someone as delicate as Dolly Prime.” Optimus could hear the laughter in Ratchet's voice.

“Dolly Prime, name granted to him by the great Thomas.” Ironhide never did know when to quit.

Optimus was tempted to end the open comm. Nothing was happening, it was early and dark and there was no danger. He could just reopen it if anything were to happen.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have sent him on his own. I mean I would be devastated if anything were to happen to our beloved Do-”

His rationalization and the self preservation of his sanity won. He clicked the comm off.

~~~

A couple hours later he and Dolly had arrived.

The whole thing had seemed strange as soon as he had pulled into the parking lot.

The place was creepy. Crates upon crates of these blue rocks sat inside the warehouse, various people in suits stood around by all the exits and a man in an even fancier suit had talked to Thomas while the crates were loaded onto Dolly.

Fancy suit man had introduced himself as senior director Hendrickson, he didn't say what he was the director of but he had bought Thomas lunch from a local grocery store and asked that he not leave while the truck was loaded as they intended to be as fast as possible.

Sitting a distance away he could see a couple people talking in the direction of Dolly. They didn’t look like they were talking to each other, they also didn’t look like they were interacting with each other at all, just talking at the truck.

~~~

Being loaded was an uncomfortable affair. Humans tended to forget, even when talking to him, that he could feel every time they touched him. Most would step in little crevices to lift themselves onto Optimus, stack things unevenly, and tell him things he was certain they wouldn’t have told other humans. He was sure if they worked efficiently he could have been back on the road much faster but they insisted that their way of doing things was superior to any of his suggestions. Stubborn little things humans were, it was sometimes a blessing but currently a bit of a curse.

Agent Fowler had not been assigned to this particular matter and that in of itself meant a little more discomfort for Optimus. Fowler was good at convincing his fellows to seriously consider Optimus’s opinions on the little matters. Such as not stepping on his tires to give themselves a little lift when he had foot holds for that very reason damn it.

He knew this trip was important, he didn’t want to send only humans to deal with the energon collection. It was a bit unstable in its solid crystal form, should anything happen, such as the appearance of a decepticon, he would be more comfortable being able to handle it himself.

Having said that, He was not about to suddenly become fond of senior director Hendrickson putting his foot on the front of his grill. He was uncomfortable, he had dirt in his seams and he couldn’t talk louder than a whisper in fear that his driver would hear him. How much trouble would it bring if he told senior director Hendrickson off, if Optimus just told him where he could shove it. How much damage would that really do to human relations? The director has had to deal with the twins before, with Sunstreaker he knows how belligerent an annoyed cybertronian could be.

Thomas’s unimpressed voice stopped Optimus from making a minor mistake in mild enemy making. “There's dirt on your boots. I don't want to return her all dirtied up.” Her, while Optimus still didn’t fully understand human gender customs he had become used to being referred to with masculine pronouns, It didn’t really make much of a difference to him besides straying from the usual. The way Thomas said ‘her’ was with an underlying fondness to it. He must say it a lot in a way that speaks of love without outright saying it. “I wouldn’t want to make a bad impression on anyone even if I wont see them again, and bringing back a truck with muddy footprints on the grill isn’t all that great of a thing to do now is it?”

senior director Hendrickson sheepishly removed his shoe from Oprimus’s grill. Thoroughly chastised the man begrudgingly mumbled an apology only partially directed towards the one he had his gross shoe on.

Optimus would have liked to thank Thomas alas he was stuck playing an unliving truck.

“Well Dolly, it is time to head back from whence we came.” Thomas patted his side as one would pat the shoulder of a friend. Optimus elected to not consider that he might have been patted like a dog. “Anything else I need to know about before I go?” He asked.

senior director Hendrickson shook his head and made his blessed exit.

~~~

Back on the road Thomas would put in his two cents that this drive back felt different. How so he didn’t quite know yet but he would figure it out before the end of this circuit.

The radio was significantly less interesting now only playing obnoxious new age country that was teetering on the edge of becoming pop. it wasn’t the worst but now it was grating even after such a short time. The radio knob seemed a bit finicky when Thomas tried to turn it. It didn’t really turn like it should and it turned back almost immediately and hadn’t even changed the station at all.

He took a moment to glare at the knob just to visually show his disappointment to the inanimate object before trying again to change the station. It changed to static and nice and smoothly as if it had been working the whole time, changed to some slow orchestral music.

It wasn’t the kind of music he would normally listen to but it was alright enough.

It certainly wasn’t, however, the kind of music that went with almost hitting a deer in a semi truck.

Which was what happened.

A lone deer barreled into the road in the direct path of Dolly. Thomas was not going to be able to stop before he hit this deer. It was going to become a wet red smear on Dolly’s grill making much more of a mess than senior director Hendrickson’s shoe. Thomas in the short two seconds that he had to process and act to the deer had very few choices and no time to make said choices.

The truck swerved. Thomas had not moved the steering wheel and the truck swerved, there was a loud clicking, metal on metal slid together moving apart and back together and a large hand extended from the passenger side pushing the ground to prevent the cab from tipping.

The deer continued running across the road disappearing into the woods on the other side. Dolly straightened out steadily, speeding back up to the speed limit.

“Oops.” the voice hadn’t been loud yet Thomas had heard it as if it had blared over the radio. The noncorporeal voice was not nearly as much a shock as the truck moving on its own.

Thomas no longer had his foot on the gas pedal. Dolly continued driving steadily down the road, thankfully there weren’t many others on the road at this time.

Thomas was tense and unmoving. “This isn’t some bluetooth remote control shit is it?” it wasn’t really a question. Thomas wasn’t an expert on technology, he didn’t know the ins and outs of the internet or how coding worked, his daughter had to help him set up Sherry’s smart tv and despite having been there for the entirety of the set up he still didn’t fully understand how to use it. This he knew was not that kind of thing, this wasn’t something a human could make into a truck. What Dolly actually was he didn’t know, man made it surely wasn’t. “What are you?”

~~~

What if he said nothing, what if he just dumped Thomas off on the side of the road and let senior director Hendrickson deal with the entire situation. It was an option. He could do that and just make a comm to headquarters letting the human department know where he had left the poor old man they had involved in this mess.

Optimus wasn’t going to do that, it was a useless train of thought because Optimus was never one to let others deal with difficult situations if he was involved or could involve himself.

“My name is Optimus Prime. I am an autonomous robot from the planet Cybertron. I mean you no harm.” he had been told before that his usual introduction came on a little strong, nonetheless it was the quickest way to establish who and what he was.

“What the hell is an autonomous robot and why are you a truck?!” His “driver” was not understanding. Perhaps because Optimus was in his alt mode, the other humans had seen him in his bipedal form before he had explained what he was. That may have played a part in their understanding during the distress that is finding out about extraterrestrial beings that have taken harbor on their planet.

“My name is Optimus Prime and I am an Autobot soldier who has taken refuge on your planet.” Thomas was making him nervous. He was slowly folding his arms and his face was turning from shock to a more stern anger.

A similarity between cybertron and earth is that on both planets the government really does ruin everything.

“I don't understand what you are,” Rude, what was there not to understand. “but you can move on your own so why am I here?” a reasonable question, even Optimus didn’t understand the humans insistence that he needed someone in his passenger seat. What was the point? He had been driving without one for years and never had any problems but then the government got involved and he was no longer “allowed” to drive on populated roads without a real human driver.

“I must apologize for startling you but the agency that I am harbored by insisted that I require a human driver.”

“Why didn’t they send someone who already knew about you?”

“They were unable to get somebody with a CDL license fast enough.” It was true. Apparently most of the agents with the licence were on either vacation or already away on assignment. Optimus had assumed incorrectly that they would leave him be for once but fate wasn’t that kind.

Thomas started to relax. He sat back in Optimus's seat and looked around as if he was looking for oddities in the cab. “An alien robot. Huh.” he scoffed.”My last day working and I got the revelation that aliens exist. My daughter would love this.”

“I have found that many of our young human friends do find delight in the discovery of other living beings beyond their galaxy.”

“Beyond our galaxy. Huh. you’re far from home aren't you?”

“Very. we are not quite sure where our planet resides now, it is dead and no longer in the orbit it once was.” Optimus had wondered before if humans could feel cybertronian fields or if they were just very perceptive. Cybertronians would act sad to show empathy but they didn’t truly feel the sadness they portrayed. Humans did, they would feel the emotion and confide in eachother with sharing experiences of the same or similar to the situation. The melancholy on Thomas’s face showed an understanding of some kind. He could tell that Thomas wanted to ask more about this, every human did they wanted to know about another planet and how one died.

“No, cybertronians have taken an array of different alt modes from land vehicles to air crafts as well as a few boats. We are a diverse transforming species. After arriving on your planet we took the form of non sentient vehicles to blend in and hide from our main enemies as well as any others who may want to cause us harm. Although we have made a many friends among your species, we have seen the cruelty of which humanity is capable.”

“I take it by ‘we’ you mean there are more of you, are you all trucks?” It was said in good casual humor. A segue into a conversation less heavy was appreciated.

Thomas had many questions, many of which Optimus got to expound upon more than usual when it came to the introduction of other planetary life.

It was calming, the frustration of the day melted away in the explanations of histories of his beloved planet and mechanical living technicalities. Even the traffic that had built was of no remark on Optimus’s now created good mood.

Until.

“Ah, our drive is almost over.” It was a pity, Optimus was so enjoying the calm. Pulling into the driveway he reminded Thomas to put his hands back on his steering wheel. He’d prefer not to have to fill out the NDA paperwork. What would it hurt if one soon to be retired older man knew of his existence and he was already going to be in trouble about turning his comm off. Explaining the entirety of the situation to Thomas only made him laugh for a reason unknown to Optimus.

Maybe a little louder than necessary. “I do believe me and Dolly had a mighty fine time.” He forgot about the nickname. And of course there was Ironhide slowly creeping his sorry aft into Optimus’s line of vision. Oh what's that? Ratchet just behind him why not. “Well Dolly! This is where we must part ways. It was a pleasure.” The bastard just patted him. Dog or friend he really wasn’t sure.

Optimus should have just suffered through the paperwork.

Maybe they would meet again one day, for now Thomas just wanted to get home to the most beautiful woman in the world who would be dancing around the kitchen to Dolly.

~~~

#transformers #maccadam #optimus prime #dollyverse

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distant--shadow · 3 days ago

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very much not a post about Cole, yes I brought up a question of theirs that got answered but that was in another post as an example of poor question selection and how it felt shitty in context of "hey I'm gonna give all of this attention to this last question" and getting that, which was lame (maybe I'm out of touch here, I'm not in any big servers or cliques, I'm not aware of the role the glasses play as a "lightning rod" still, as u say, or that it was still relevant. to me it has been made pretty clear (as Laura said) in campaign that she needs them but doesn't have them (I couldn't care less if people chose to make their own art with her wearing them, I'm aware of what making choices u enjoy for ur own fanart is), therefore my frustration on that getting asked. you have picked a post out of a few I made and q's I answered that would give this context (and how I'm more frustrated by the show as a whole as well as general fandom behaviour) . the most tasteless question by far was about gendering the future kids, that is what I'm annoyed at when I'm talking about needing your own headcanons confirmed, idk who made it and I didn't put much thought into paying attention to names behind them because at the end of the day I was just noting the overall quality of questions, I'm not gonna change my opinion on the question based on the person behind it. I also think it will always be valid to critique media you care about and also quesiton the behaviours of people that share space with you(as u are with me rn) (so yes I see u people saying "lol get over the term girlfailure, we got bigger issues going on in the world" then a moment later being like "omg cr fandom has so much casual misogyny" like yeah, you're partaking in casual misogny babe. yes I'm aware people disagree with this. this is my blog, I'm a person with opinions) I have since spoken to people who submitted questions, none of which got answered and people admit they sent both more in depth and lighthearted ones. yes from that I can conclude that the issue lies more with the curation, but it doesn't change the fact that I feel frustrated, and I had said that yes Laura is probably just picking out anything that looks like a quesiton in a quickly moving chat, u can see how she deflated when getting far enough through some of them.

once again, this whole post jumping into Cole defense is just showing that you're also agitated by something in the moment without the actual context you're "having to assume" and that's fair, but it's arguably just as reactionary as what you're saying I did. yes, I think the fandom behaviour needs to be different if it's going to have this much impact on the actual content of a show, that's the main thing here, I don't like the feeling of being catered or pandered to if this is what they think fans want to see, yes maybe a lot of this is me being reactive to that feeling. it's a blog. I'm sharing my opinions in the moment. I want others to see that despite the fact I make a fuck tonne of shipping art, I don't actually want that being lip-serviced like those are my needs during the sparse oppurtunities that we get for deeper character answers.

also, to end, to finish off this post with the tags "#the fires ya'll #kyle just lost his fucking house" like what???! OK????!!! do you feel righteous now? you don't think i 100% support them taking all the time off they need tor recover from this? that I'm not sympathetic? you really saying hey excuse you, don't be a bully, fires have happened? when the person I'm apparently targeting from your post is not cast or crew? (or in california, as far as I'm aware) like what? that's the "unkind" thing to say right there, I get that things are super rough and Laura is recovering from a lost voice because of everything going on. maybe they didn't need to rush it, maybe that doesn't change the fact they still recorded and chose the questions they did? I don't think many fans were thinking "oh i'll ask baby questions because there have been fires." I'm not gonna go into this any more but, super super lame behaviour.

I shouldn't be surprised by the fireside chat being the state it was, seeing as I don't follow any CR themed blogs myself or really go into the tags because I find it frustrating but still, the bleed over of fanon is depressing and a lot of you are showing your asses in terms of how you don't actually gaf about the characters or the story the players have chosen to tell.

I love my au's, I love my headcanons, I love my not quite canon ships, but they're for me and the people who chose to enjoy them if they want to. and what makes creating those things more fulfilling is trying to really be true to the character it's about, otherwise just go play with OCs

this will be my last salty post on the matter (guess we'll see) but man, the timing? all of this crazy shit is going on, it is well established that the audience is frustrated with how little downtime we've had with these characters and getting to see those long rest bonds we got to enjoy with previous campaigns, 4SD is over, and that's what you wanna ask about? it's selfish, honestly.

#salty shadow #guess what #I can think people have made a lame decision or action and it not mean that I think they're bad people #as I keep saying all of this really comes down to how I have an audience and I make a lot of shippy fan art #and I want to make it known that #i #personally #do not wish for that kind of content to be pandered to in the talk shows #in conclusion - who's to blame here? everyone! (myself included)

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kaurwreck · 6 days ago

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yall don't want agatha christie to become overly present in bsd; I'll be insufferable.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd agatha christie #sorry im not over how righteously angry i was at how my 8th grade english class interpreted judge wargrave #or the ending to and then there were none generally #i need to reread it as an adult #but im so sure my irritation wont have subsided

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sonknuxadow · 3 months ago

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getting mildly annoyed with some things in shadow generations that were references to existing games or art or whatever being treated as completely new information by people in the fandom but then i have to remember that not everyone has all the sonic knowledge that i do and that the original source for the idea of maria being the one to name shadow is a short comic that was posted to the japanese socials forever ago and never got an official english translation and isnt really talked about often in fan spaces these days and this is the first time theyre talking about the origin of shadows name onscreen in a game . so maybe its kinda reasonable that not everyone knows about all this stuff and im the weird one in this situation for assuming people do

#it is still an obvious reference to that comic though like the dialogue in that cutscene is heavily based on that comic .#none of the other stuff i have in mind is anywhere near that obscure though ...#like ''gerald was confirmed to view shadow as a son'' or ''maria is finally confirmed to view shadow as family''#we already knew those things ...? gerald calls shadow his son onscreen in the canon ending of shadow 05 #and the thing with shadow and maria . okay yeah this is the first time its directly mentioned onscreen i think #but to say it wasnt implied at all is wrong because theres character bios that say they were like brother and sister #and also gerald calling shadow his son implies that shadow was treated as part of the family in some way #sonic x shadow generations #sxsg spoilers

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mud-castle · 5 days ago

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What would your Lion King prequel be like?

Funny you ask that considering I was actually thinking about it in the shower earlier. Girl, buckle up, cause I have soooo many thoughts.

I had some personal rules that was mostly to adhere to the story they were trying to tell, not the story I personally would've wanted. So that includes keeping Mufasa and Scar as unrelated, Kiros as the villain, the whole Milele plotline, etc. So let's get to it

Spoilers Obviously:

First thing I'd do is change Taka's name. Taka means "trash" which is a fucked up name first of all but second of all doesn't make sense since both of his parents love him. I'd name him either Askari, as a mild nod to The Lion Guard and because Scar could easily come as a nickname from it; Inkosi which also means "king"; or Takasa meaning "to purify."

Secondly, I'd make Taka worse. Not evil yet, but a very spoiled, manipulative brat with a soft spot for Mufasa. Taka suddenly becoming a master deceiver because his father once told him that kings have to lie sometimes makes no sense. So he's just like that. I actually imagine he gets it from his mother since she needs more character than just being good. I'd show him getting into trouble with the animals within his father's territory because of his entitlement with Mufasa often having to act as a mediator.

Taka desires and expects to be king. Full Stop. No "oh I wish I was normal and could hunt with my mother." Would he be an atrocious king? Absolutely, but that doesn't matter since it's what he's owed for being a prince. There would have to be a balancing act between Taka's better and worse traits to keep him somewhat sympathetic.

With that in mind, he never falls in love with Sarabi. He honestly doesn't care much for her. But he wants her as his queen since he's a prince and she's a princess so that's just kind of how it goes. I imagine a scene where Mufasa is trying to see his logic and he's like "but don't you think you should...idk...love... her?" And Taka just raises an eyebrow. Sarabi genuinely can't stand his ass.

Speaking of Sarabi, I'd give her some actual character. I want her to be Mufasa's opposite but also compliment him. So I'd make him very open towards new things and other animals from his experiences wandering with his parents as a cub and push Sarabi's pride and pragmatism up to 11. Sometimes he's right, sometimes she's right, but they learn from each other. I'd like a scene of them together near the end plotting and putting together everything they've learned from each other, working as a unit. I'm removing the weird super senses Mufasa had.

Mufasa dearly needs a character arc, so i'm just gonna go the simple route of him learning to stand up for himself and against Taka sometimes. he's very submissive considering he's lived most of his life under Obasi and tends to be very lenient as a result. He still acts as mediator even after the two have to run and often ends up in the middle of arguments while trying to keep the peace. Keeping his head down has kept him alive. He learns that that will not fly sometimes and someone needs to take a stand and that someone has to be him.

Also I'd keep Kiros as a cannibal, cause God knows he needs something interesting going on. He's a character who loves to play with his food. Instead of being frustrated, he's having the time of his life tracking them down to take care of loose ends (Taka and later Sarabi too). I'd move his son's death to later in the film so we have some time to see their dynamic and really understand why he's so enraged by his death.

Most major change I'd have though is adding more lions to the traveling group:

I don't like how there were already lions at the Pridelands when the whole point was that it was a fairy tale story to give hope. It's kind of weird that there were lions already chilling there, makes the end of the journey feel less impactful.

So I'm taking those lions and making them refugees of Kiros's destruction (he also has a LOT more lions than in the movie) found along the way. This includes Sarafina cause why not. Taka is fully against taking them along as some of them are injured and will slow them down. Sarabi, hating to agree with Taka, is also hesitant, especially since they're being tracked, but she's sympathetic. Mufasa says he'll take the blame if anything happens and helps them, showing his compassion and leadership.

Rafiki joins them as a healer. He's still completely unconcerned with being eaten when they meet, but he has enough of an initial use for them to be given an actual reason to spare him. I imagine Sarafina was one of the injured lions picked up and he simply says she won't make it if they eat him. Her wound is infected and she's growing slower and weaker by the day. Mufasa decides to believe the questionably sane baboon and Rafiki helps her which cements his place in the group.

Taka needs something to do too, so I'm gonna let him be the brains of the outfit. He has 0 leadership skills, but he does have a lot of good ideas. But he often needs Mufasa to actually execute it. Or worse, he needs the other lions which means he needs Mufasa to convince them on his behalf since he cannot ask nicely to save his life.

He doesn't turn into an incel when Sarabi chooses Mufasa cause wtf, but he does feel his authority slipping day by day as Mufasa shows himself to be more of a leader. He sort of "allows" Mufasa to have Sarabi and tells him as much in a bid for some control.

He doesn't betray them to Kiros cause wtf. Instead Mufasa, for the first time, gives him a firm no about something. Taka is stricken, then gets angry and careless and storms off in a blizzard where he trips and falls down a snowdrift near where Kiros is. He panics and runs, unable to cover his tracks as the snowstorm ends and leading them to where the group is heading. Taka knows it's most likely his fault they got caught but like hell he'll admit that.

Throughout the movie, Taka gets worse. More argumentative, more irritated, more angry, more insecure. He loves Mufasa, but that love only seems to be present so long as he's subservient to him. There are moments where Mufasa breaks through to him briefly, showing that he could change, but he just doesn't want to. Taka never really sees Mufasa as an equal, even if he never calls him a stray or anything like Obasi did.

Taka also gets the unfortunate experience of being pummeled and toyed with by Kiros in the battle for the Pridelands until Mufasa slams in, allowing Taka to run. Then it's Mufasa's turn to get beaten. It's up to Sarabi, with her having to convince Taka to help her, to save him. This is the singular time the two manage to work together. Putting their heads together, they manage to save Mufasa.

After the fight, Mufasa sees Taka, there's relief and gratitude in his eyes as he starts to limp to him. We see Taka's eyes soften just a bit and it seems like maybe he'll close the distance. Then the rest of the lions come to praise Mufasa for leading them this whole time and convincing them to get rid of Kiros. Taka slips off somewhere unnoticed, his pride more wounded than ever.

Mufasa shakes off the group as quick as he can, but not quick enough to see where Taka went. He finds him eventually in a cave and is wary about the whole king thing and confides in him. Taka never quite faces him, but in a nutshell he tells him that he might as well accept the title (it goes unsaid that they wouldn't give the position to Taka anyway, but it's very implied). Mufasa moves to make another attempt to connect with his brother. Taka promptly shoots him down, saying something like "you should run along, you wouldn't keep your subjects waiting."

Mufasa reluctantly takes the dismissal and leaves. Taka stares after him in the dark, his eyes brighter and greener than ever with pure envy. Then Mufasa roars and all is good.

Also Mufasa's mom is dead dead. I don't see the point in her being alive.

Also also, take out Timon, Pumbaa, and Zazu. I could not stand them.

#ask #mufasa the lion king #the lion king #tlk #mufasa #scar #taka the lion king #none of this fixes the fact that the whole plot of the movie severely fucks up the lion king's continuity #like Scar's plan hinges on the fact that he's the king's younger brother which would only work if they were related #and both the sons of the monarch #So how can Scar be the next in line for the throne when by the end of the Mufasa movie he's a known traitor? Sarabi should've ruled then #and also Simba and Nala's betrothal then makes no sense. How can it be “a tradition going back generations” if they are the first ones?#Also also Mufasa of all characters should not give a flying fuck about “the great kings of the past”#all of his experiences with other kings have been negative. He wouldn't find comfort in them watching him

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ihaveseentruebravery · 2 days ago

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Sorry was reading the tags, but I don't think you got off topic. Because this issue is multifaceted, right? Multiple things have caused this perspective that feels incredibly isolated (practically selfish) when it comes to releasing a god-eater on the gods.

1- No one of the Bells Hells actually served a god (fcg's faith came later) so why would a god have 'answered a prayer' when they were younger? The whole point of the Divine Gate WAS for the non-interference. So again...the only 'oppressive' god anyone would have experience with IN this group would maybe be Lolth. Whereas the ONLY reason they survived the fight was because of boons from the Matron, the Arch Heart and the Wildmother (seedling healing Orym and such).

2- as was evidenced last night, even in a finale arc boss battle after having JUST fought Da'leth, Laudna says she'll 'summon Predathos' best puppet Thull'. Even WITHIN their narrative Thull outshone Da'leth and his mission so hard that he wasn't even brought up until after when they thought he'd be back after the battle. Da'leth and his mission against the gods never even took hold in our groups' brain because it was so overshadowed by Thull' nearly TPKing them and them being annoyed at his monologues. This is either a narrative weight issue, or narrative comprehension issue and IDK which.

3- Because of the prevalency of these gods, and the Matron and the Wildmother in particular, actually assisting both these characters and other characters within the world, this decision feels incredibly tone-deaf and with a bad implication. IE, very 'im gonna be mad at these beings and ALSO not care that I only survived *because* of them'. Which again is just the issue writ large. The lore goes that the Betrayers and Titans would have destroyed all mortals and that caused the Schism. The Betrayers and what titans were left would have again, destroyed all mortals and the Primes in the calamity. All people left alive on Exandria are there because the Primes chose to end their interference with the Divine Gate. They were already self aware enough to stop their own collateral damage. And literally none of this speaks on the damage mortals have caused because of pursuals of power or whatever, like Bor'dor's story. As other characters have put it...that wasn't the gods fault, it was mortals. And again, here we have mortals not comprehending the power of taking out multiple powerful beings at once without considering what they defend against: ie, planar incursions or the demon-devil battles like the Blood Wars, or Eldritch horrors or like...pick anything that's gonna STILL threaten Exandria without them

4- even in the meta of dnd, you can have athiest characters that don't benefit from magic-your run of the mill fighter, barbarian, or rogue. But within Exandria's world, the gods gave mortals magic. So not only is this a baffling thing to consider when characters know that, even if they aren't characters of faith, and just thumb their noses at what power they've benefited from (their boons and items), of course this feels inherently selfish as well. And again, Da'leth didn't need faith in divinity to cause the sheer amount of damage he's caused, so destroying the beings people HAVE placed their faith in (there will always be the paragon of a paladin or cleric that will have been the sole reason a village is cured of a disease or protected from a demon lord), does not answer the question of if divine faiths are no longer there, what fills the vacuum? I would love for it to be general faith in goodwill and life (FCG), but you still have mortals (Braius) that go 'guess I'll look for evil avenues of power bc it speaks to me'. A lack of powerful beings and their temples will also not solve that natural inclination. Not that Bells Hells have to consider all people, but to take away what has proven to be protective in the past WITHIN this context is especially tone-deaf.

5- if we assume the outcome is wildly positive even with the Betrayer Gods accepting to be mortals...there aren't any possible solutions to any of the above that have even been voiced so they can be considered and talked through to a definitive solution. So we're left with a tone-deaf decision, from a deliberately self-imposed isolated perspective, a lack of consideration for the rest of the fucking world without an actual reason, on a paper-thin motivation of 'ending a cycle', while ALSO benefiting from the said power that is evidently So Bad It Deserves Its End.

Of COURSE that'd make anybody looking at this story and it's unfortunate implications go 'ummm....wait a minute...'.

I genuinely just can't wrap my head around how people look at past characters who have strong relationships with the gods, some of whom were saved by the gods and think "yeah we should rip that comfort from them" like what?????

I mean, this is kind of a fundamental issue I have with c3, right? It's about the previous text not supporting the reading we're being asked to make here. Which, since I've been rewatching the Mighty Nein, only feels more true after hearing something like "The Wildmother planted her last seed in the Barbed Fields before leaving Exandria for the safety of the world to grow the Arbor Exemplar as a beacon of life and hope that even in the face of desolation we can continue on" and to see her intervene on Fjord's behalf against Uk'otoa (a very aggressive, cruel, mechanically evil lesser idol that will apparently not be touched by Predathos, were it to be freed) and then come to c3 and see people talk about the ultimate tyranny of the gods, with no differentiation between the Prime Deities and Betrayers. And some of this, to be clear, I think is deeply exacerbated by fan spaces who will run a marathon with an inch of leeway given to that perspective of the gods on nothing more than a predisposition against religion. So you get caught between these two texts--the campaign itself and the fan response text--and it's like. what are we doing guys. what's going on. The idea of an overwhelming divine tyranny in Exandria feels especially disconnected from canon when we have examples of tyrannical governments like the Dwendalian Empire who are allowed to ban religious worship. And the lack of touchstones with common people and their perspectives additionally makes it difficult to buy into this idea of the gods in c3 specifically. The Hells feel very isolated in their perspectives, which I think is a detriment to the story as a whole and it gives the impression of an incredible lack of empathy for everyone else. The conundrum of ripping comfort and faith away from people has been broached by Imogen in the campaign! But no conclusion was ever drawn and it hasn't come up again, so we're just. Lost in the mire of Bells Hells' personal deliberations on the state of religion for the entire world and it feels wrong because of that. It's too isolated an idea to feel worth applying it to LITERALLY EVERYONE, and I can't make presumptions for why the fan texts feel the way they do on the subject, but I feel it is something to do with the idea that any change is good change. Which is not true, and should require a great deal more consideration of the material effects of these plans being proposed, but. Alas.

#Can always appreciate a character arc #But I'm not gonna pretend I'm satisfied with the narrative outcome that feels sooooo tone-deaf to the reality of Exandria's setting #critrole #cr spoilers

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