#the disconnect from the self still lingers i am not a person

[young--cheeseburger]

I noticed my disconnects from reality come in waves now. Lately I've been in this funk, im tired, its hard to focus, I cant hold conversations and use more detatched language.

I dont like this feeling but itll pass hopefully

[a-d-nox]

pac/pap: (creature feature: ghost): longing and lingering

welcome to my october pac/pap creature feature series - instead of having a single pac/ pap this month, there will be five! every monday (at 5p / 17:00 EST) this october, a new creature will be coming out to play as the sun begins to set earlier and earlier... keep an out; you never know what is lurking in the darkness..

today's creature is the ghost: song queued: "she wolf" by shakira!

take what resonates leave what doesn't - nothing is 100% for you because these aren't personalized so please no angry comments or dms about what i am saying not being a good fit for you or that you "don't claim" just keep scrolling if that is the case. be kind, self reflect, and have fun.

last pac/pap: creature feature: banshee - the silence and the scream

masterlist of pap/pac posts

want a personal reading? click here to check out my reading options and prices!

pile one

longing: what aspects of yourself do you wish you could leave behind?

immaturity, emotional blockages, or feeling overwhelmed by emotions. you may be longing to let go of emotional immaturity or an overly idealistic outlook that hasn’t served you well. this could also point to a desire to release self-doubt, insecurity, or a tendency to retreat into fantasy rather than face emotional realities. introspection, solitude, and seeking inner wisdom. there is a desire to shed the tendency to isolate yourself too much or rely solely on your own inner guidance, avoiding external connections. there may be a longing to release a pattern of withdrawing from others, or from life itself, in times of emotional difficulty.

lingering: what past decisions/experiences still linger in your thoughts as if they were haunting you?

feeling of being trapped or restricted, often by your own thoughts or perceptions. there may be past decisions where you felt powerless or constrained, and now those choices linger as a source of regret or frustration. it suggests that you might still feel mentally or emotionally bound by past situations, unable to see a clear way out, or you may be replaying certain moments in your head, feeling as though they continue to limit your growth. this card is about illusion, indecision, and being overwhelmed by choices. past experiences involving confusion or an overabundance of options might still haunt you. you may have made decisions in moments of uncertainty or wishful thinking, and now you reflect on what could have been or question whether you chose the right path. there’s a lingering sense of regret or second-guessing about decisions that were made based on illusions or unclear motivations.

pile two

longing: what aspects of yourself do you wish you could leave behind?

blocked intuition, inner confusion, or a disconnection from your deeper, spiritual wisdom. you may wish to leave behind a tendency to second-guess yourself or ignore your inner voice. perhaps you struggle with trusting your instincts, leading to feelings of insecurity or confusion about your path. keeping secrets from yourself or others, suggesting a desire to be more open and transparent with your emotions and inner world. a relentless focus on perfectionism or getting lost in the minutiae. you may wish to leave behind a pattern of overworking, striving for perfection, or being overly consumed by the material aspects of life. there is a longing to release an obsession with productivity or the pressure to constantly improve, instead of allowing yourself to embrace balance and trust in the flow of things.

lingering: what past decisions/experiences still linger in your thoughts as if they were haunting you?

past experiences involving close friendships, group dynamics, or social events still linger in your mind. there could have been moments of joy or connection that were either disrupted, ended prematurely, or became complicated. perhaps there are lingering regrets or unresolved emotions tied to friendships, support systems, or communal experiences. you may still think about how certain relationships unfolded, or wish things had turned out differently in your social circles. think of a time when you were in a role of caretaker, provider, or the “grounded” one in relationships. you might still carry the weight of decisions tied to your sense of responsibility or nurturing others, particularly if you felt you sacrificed too much of yourself. there could also be lingering thoughts about how you managed your personal resources - whether emotional, financial, or physical - and whether you’ve given more than you received, especially in social or familial settings.

pile three

longing: what aspects of yourself do you wish you could leave behind?

i sense you have a wish to leave behind an overemphasis on control or perfection. you may feel burdened by the pressure to “make things happen” or to be constantly “in charge” of your circumstances. there could be a tendency to over-manage or overthink how to manifest your goals, which leads to burnout or frustration when things don’t unfold perfectly. you desire to let go of constant overthinking, worry, or fear. you may struggle with self-imposed stress or negative thought patterns, leading to feelings of guilt, regret, or intense pressure about how things have or will turn out. release this mental torment, particularly the fear of failure or not being good enough, that keeps you trapped in a cycle of worry.

lingering: what past decisions/experiences still linger in your thoughts as if they were haunting you?

its a painful experience or betrayal that you are trying to recover from but still lingers in your thoughts. a past situation where you may have felt deeply hurt, defeated, or even backstabbed, yet you are finding it difficult to fully let go and heal. although you are on the path of recovery, the memory of this painful ending still haunts you, leaving an emotional scar that you may revisit, even if unconsciously. this could involve a relationship, project, or life event that ended abruptly or hurtfully, and the wounds are still healing. this card reflects issues with collaboration, teamwork, or recognition. a past experience involving working with others - whether in a professional, creative, or personal context - did not go well. there may have been miscommunication, lack of cooperation, or feeling undervalued by those you worked with. this experience still lingers in your thoughts, perhaps because it left you feeling unsupported, underappreciated, or as though your efforts were wasted. there might also be regrets about how a partnership or collaboration fell apart, leaving unresolved tensions.

[mari-lair]

Aye is me again!

I was just wondering if you had any theories on what Teru's dream involving Aoi may be. He says she's necessary for his dream and I wonder if its because she's a direct descendant of the kannagi line?

I hope his dream includes Akane too bc even if they won't end up together I just KNOW they'll be besties either way (am soft for Akane being the 1st person he shows his true self to outside his family)

Hello! :D I have no hope Aidairo will treat this sub plot with care, (or any plot that includes Aoi) so this will be more of a rambly analysis than a theory.

I am inclined to believe Teru’s dream doesn’t have anything to do with her Kannagi blood because of how he approaches Aoi compared to Nene.

Nene is also a Kannagi, but Teru never searches for Nene or gives her much thought, he even let her have a crush on what he sees as a dangerous supernatural since it is what she wants so who is he to reprimand a dying girl? Whenever they are together he flatters her but never asks about her life or tries to make her linger in his presence. 

He does show interest in Nene being a Kannagi but it does not feel like he sees her as a weapon or an important tool that he can use to achieve a ‘goal’. She is still a ‘silly girl’ or a ‘funny girl’ in his mind, someone he is kind to when they are face to face, but he doesn't go out of his way to do much for her.

Aoi is canonically very hard to get close to, so trying to 'be her friend just to use her later’ would be contrived and too stupid for a character built up to be smart, considering Nene (who had a crush on him throught a big part of the manga) would be a far better target to get his hands on Kanagi powers.

Teru actively goes out of his way to try to learn more about Aoi and make her stay with him, even if he has to resort to manipulation, he will do it to spend more time with her.

It also bears mention that Akane's tactless way to ‘woo’ Aoi is what he hates the most about Akane. Not Akane supernatural contract or, any of his behavior with Teru, but how he approaches Aoi:

Teru trusts Akane, but he gets disgusted with how he put her on a pedestal, how his obsession gets on creepy territory at times, yet, when Akane and Aoi work things up and are able to properly communicate, Teru gets grumpy and mopes about their almost kiss. A kiss that shouldn’t be significant if what he was interested in was her Kannagi status.

He listens to Akane go on and on about how ‘sweet and kind and pretty’ Aoi is without ever shutting him down, and despite loving to annoy the clock keeper, he never disagrees or implies that Aoi isn't as amazing as Akane claims, so he does have a very positive view of Aoi.

I can’t say for sure what his dream is, but it feels related to Aoi as a person, not her blood or ancestors. Is a desire of his own.

Minamotos are very connected to supernaturals, and they are pushed to put their duties first, but being disconnected from other, and able to have a level head in dangerous situations doesn’t make them any less human or emotional: They value their family, their friends, their desires, occasionally putting them above their job for selfish reasons.

Now let’s talk about a theory Maagi shared with me, that the more i thought about it, the more plausible it seemed: If Teru was in love with Aoi, it wouldn't be the first time a Minamoto fell in love, or at the very least, was very attracted, to an Akane.

The manga makes a point to heavily imply that Kanagis usually live with loved ones at the start of their lives, and that even in the old ages where Sumire’s story takes place, it's seen as cruel to abandon a child so young.

They mention her family wanted to ‘get away from her resentment’ but considering how oblivious and happy she had been to “marry God”, eager to declare a demon her husband, it is far more likely they wanted to get rid of Sumire for reasons out of her control, like her bloodline.

From Sumire pale eyes, which have hints of the Akane purple we know, but is mostly blue, to her expertise in using spiritual tools (from her knife, to bracelets, to even a protective barrier)  it’s just far too much of a coincidence.

Even her personality seems like a mix between Teru and Aoi.

And I can see the argument that her exorcism tools are things that every Kannagi can use, since Aoi can use them too, but it is still strange that Sumire has so many tools associated with the Minamoto clan, when every other sacrifice has none. Not even a bracelet.

The bracelet is not part of a Kannagi’s uniform. Or a precaution of No.6 that comes with his duties. It’s a Minamoto’s gift. Which makes Sumire feel more personal than ‘just another sacrifice girl’, like her protection matters for someone.

This leads me to how Teru gave Aoi a bracelet the second she got mixed with supernaturals, and let her keep it,

He never offered this kind of protection to anyone else, not even Nene, the girl that lives in danger.

So even if the fandom will cry at the idea, there is a lot to indicate Teru is genuinely interested in Aoi. The seeds are there, Aidairo was just clunky when hinting his interest (I’m still baffled an interaction as important as the convenience store one is in a spin off.)

And I am sure his dream includes Akane! Akane is his best friend, even when he wants to spend time with Aoi, he isn’t opposed at all to Akane tagging along.

He values Akane in a completely different way than he values Aoi, but is so clear he has tons of fun with the two Aois!

(There is a reason I would be chill if his crush was either Aoi or Akane, he acts in such a way that no matter who he has a crush on, it is still obvious he really values them both)

[tsutenstar]

A Follow Up Post For the 88th Event (+ personal thoughts)

Man, it feels so good to be right.

I'm very excited to see what the devs have in store for Tsukasa's next focus event given the previous cliffhanger at the end of Emu's. Looks like we'll be getting a collaboration with Wonder Stage and Phoenix Stage as per Emu's brothers' request. While I am skeptical at the true intentions the brothers have regarding Tsukasa's wish to grow his acting career, I'm much more interested in what this event has in store for the star himself.

Tsukasa’s current goal is to continue his growth as an actor. But due to the troupe being unneeded in providing outside-the-park advertisement, he has looked for opportunities outside of Phoenix Wonderland to do so (Hence why he looked for guidance from Asahi who recommended him to a workshop he himself attended before). Not only does he make a great impression toward the director and surprise his troupe with his sudden jump in skill during rehearsals, but he also earns the titular role of the Peter Pan: signifying his current level of talent.

We also got a glimpse of this previously from his birthday card story. He moves Sakurako—a well renown actress of the Phoenix Stage—to tears with his performance as Torpe. Suffice to say, many people who’ve been in the acting field longer than Tsukasa has are impressed with his talent.

And I think this is why we WxS are being given the opportunity to perform with Phoenix Stage. Emu’s older brothers, after being confronted by Tsukasa about ending their advertising performances, realize that Tsukasa’s drive and talent will soon go far beyond what the Wonder Stage can offer at the moment. Whether they’re testing the waters to see if the collab will raise park sales or perhaps seeing if transferring Tsukasa to Phoenix Wonderland is better bit for his current aspirations, we aren’t really sure of.

What we do know is how far Tsukasa is willing to go to achieve his dream and that is what I think this event will revolve around. Much like Rui did in his previous focus, so will Tsukasa be faced with the opportunity to go further in his journey as an actor. But unlike Rui, I, in a very small space of my self-conscience believe Tsukasa might take that opportunity.

Tsukasa is a bit disconnected from his troupe. Not physically, but emotionally. He’s never divulged much about his past outside of the good brother persona he has for Saki and Toya. He keeps much of those experiences to himself, near the point where he avoids them so much he forgets them.

Of course, Tsukasa doesn’t want his time with WxS to end, but who’s to say he’s already accepted that fate? He’s become accustomed to fleeting meetings, to constant farewells due to his childhood. He’s learnt things will come and go and nothing stays the same forever no matter how hard he tries. So, what’s a boy to do but do everything he can now so he has something to look forward to in the future in which he was the ability to change its outcome? He’ll push himself as far as he can go like we saw in Emu’s event: rushing to rehearsals after his workshop and taking time outside to get a better understanding of his character. Yet he tells the rest of his troupe that he still has the energy to do his best. A part of me worries if that’s entirely true.

We also can see in the teaser trailer that Tsukasa’s sparkle remains a lot closer to the spotlight (near the 00:13 second mark). It’s a very little thing that I noticed only after watching it a couple times. His time in the spotlight lingers, almost like he’s a lot more inclined to stay—to continue pursuing his dreams despite what might happen. We see the image of a pegasus with its wings outstretched like it’s about to take flight—a symbol, like the stars, closely relates to Tsukasa. The shining pegasus of the skies.

And I think it’s also important to mention something that Rui’s VA, Toki Shunichi, mentioned: the story is like black and white. Make of that as what you will.

TLDR: Perhaps I’m delusional, but Tsukasa might not be as okay as he says he is.

[stormbabylore]

WoL Questions/Answers - Elements

To the surprise of no one, I have a lot of feelings about Aeryn's association with the elements.

TL;DR? She's air-aligned with a perplexing attachment to the sea... and so she's also water-aligned. But also, I might have inadvertently set her on a path of finding balance in all the elements. O_O

(I ended up reading/researching quite a bit about this, and I'm sorry if you choose to read the chaos below the cut.)

Aeryn started her journey, in my mind, as more of a water-aligned individual. This is partially because of her backstory and partially because of my own attachment to the element of water. In the beginning, she eddies and flows with the story, going where the current takes her and quietly molding herself to fill the space allotted her (defined by the needs of the characters and the story being outlined for her). Very few people, especially in early ARR, see beyond the surface level to the very great depths of her, because she doesn't yet know herself and also doesn't wish to be seen - so she's often like the surface of a still pond, reflecting back what others want to see. She brings a kind of calmness and growth (in the form of change) wherever she goes, but she likewise has the capacity for intense, violent destruction when pressed. She is also inherently drawn to water, seeking out lakes, ponds, streams, and waterfalls by which to rest and lingering in places where she can listen to the rain or ocean waves.

But without meaning to, I realized I started working in a lot of references to her connecting with air in my fic - or rather, to be specific, I found several scenes that indicate she feels drawn to places where air and water meet. For example, in the Ruby Sea:

She swims down into the murky depths and stares up at the glow of sunlight at the edge of the rippling sky, where wind and water meet.

And this bit in the Sea of Clouds:

"I guess the ocean… it- sometimes, it- it also makes me sad?" she says. "It's like- like it belongs to someone else. Someone in another life that I can never be. Here, though-" She pauses and laughs, feeling oddly foolish. Then she tilts her head back to gaze up at the familiar constellations twinkling overhead – the same ones Urianger taught her to see so, so long ago – and she begins again: "Here, it's like the sky and the stars and the rolling clouds are my ocean." She closes her eyes. "I- I don't feel so blurred at the edges, because there's nothing here to remind me of anything that was never mine. It just feels..." I feel free, she thinks.

(Incidentally, the Sea of Clouds is one of my personal favorite areas in the game thus far - and one of Aeryn's, too. And the Ruby Sea happens to be where she first experiences a memory of her "past," so it has significance to Aeryn's story, too.)

One of the first websites that popped up when I did a quick search for the various spiritual and symbolic meanings of the elements had this to say regarding water:

There is only one water element—there’s no "me" water and there’s no "other" water. And so we reflect: "This is not me. This is not mine. I am not this."

This struck me, because it occurred to me that Aeryn's past self would likely have been more closely tied to the element of water, and so Aeryn in the present, on the Source, shares that in common, but also doesn't. She feels that attachment doesn't belong to her – it belongs to someone else, someone she feels disconnected from in a way that often leaves her disoriented, once she's made aware of it. The connection she feels to water can't fully be hers, because she can't be the person who once felt it.

And though it wasn't intentional (to the degree I really didn't even notice I'd done it until I started answering this question), at some point I started to associate Aeryn's present self, on the Source, with air. She spends so much time searching for answers, for understanding, that she has unintentionally fettered herself to a history she can't have. And I think when she breaks free from that – when she stops desperately longing for what was and instead seizes hold of who she is, now – she begins to soar for the very first time. And unlike in the early story when she moves where she is asked because she is asked (water), she chooses to "fly," not because anyone has asked her to, but because she wants to (air). So my new headcanon is that Aeryn reborn on the Source is more closely tied to the element of air.

That said, I do think that she will forever be some blend of both elements, just as she will forever be some combination of her two selves. (As I wrote above: she still loves the ocean, but in a dissonant, almost melancholy way at times. And though she finds freedom in the sky, she naturally relates it to the sea.)

Okay, cool, question answered!

But I'm still not done. >.>

Because the further I dug into this, the more curious I got about Aeryn's connection to all four elements and how it has grown and shifted throughout the MSQ.

Another website I found (HERE) had this to say about the elements:

WATER

"Symbol of rebirth, healing, fertility, change, dreaming, clarity, intuition." "While it is definitely an element that exudes relaxation, it can also bring melancholy and sadness if indulged in excessively."

AIR

"Symbol of knowledge, perception, communication, creativity, and strategy." "Air governs the mind and resides within the heart and throat chakra."

Aeryn (like every WoL) spends so much of ARR through Stormblood coping with a tremendous amount of emotional stress. (Please. Please get them therapy. And cute animal cuddles.) Stormblood in particular is heavily disorienting for her as she is losing all sense of self, watching others fight tooth and nail for home and belonging when she herself has none of her own beyond some few fragmented memories that both elate and terrify her. I think she perfectly embodies the various meanings of water depicted here. She has been reborn (via Hydaelyn's grace), has been charged with healing/changing a broken world (via Hydaelyn's blessing), and on the surface seems to be the picture of clarity and resolve. But she is melancholy and lost beneath the surface, seeking for her own sense of self and lost to some nebulous notion of where and with whom she might rediscover a seemingly lost sense of "home."

It's not until she is ripped from the Source and dropped in the First – when she finds herself reunited with the Scions, realizing just how much she has come to depend on them and their familiar nearness – that she begins to embrace more of her air qualities. Shadowbringers marks a distinct turning point in her ability to openly communicate with them (and some trusted others – which is why I find it fascinating that the air chakra is located in the heart and throat, as if her inability to openly connect with the element actually kept both locked to her). It's also one of the first times she starts questioning the tasks that are asked of her – or at the very least, that she comes to fear what it might mean for her to blindly follow. She begins to more readily perceive (and accept) how very much she cares for the people around her, and, by the end, she is granted clearer insight into what brought her to the Source in the first place, allowing her greater knowledge of her former life.

So to reiterate, I do still think she will forever remain a blending of both air and water. But that's probably a good thing, considering in many ideologies, it's important to seek balance among the elements, anyway.

With that in mind, early-game Aeryn had a significant lack of the other two elements, as depicted by the same website shared above:

FIRE

"Symbol of love, desire, anger, power, assertiveness, and energy."

I like to think of fire as the element outsiders who didn't know her would have assumed Aeryn to be, when in fact she had none of these things to begin with, least of all love – she couldn't even fathom what it might feel like to be accepted and loved; and she certainly lacked assertiveness, nodding along with a smile to anyone who asked anything of her.

EARTH

"Symbol of stability, nourishment, security, fertility, health, and home." "Earth is the most materially grounded element." "Earth governs the body and resides within the root chakra."

Aeryn figuratively had no roots. She was tied to nothing and lacked for stability, security, and home altogether.

When I look at the four as a whole, I think Aeryn has gone through an elemental journey over the course of the story as I've played it thus far. She starts out very malleable and formless, allowing herself to be shaped this way and that by external forces and more assertive parties (some very well-meaning, of course, but that doesn't change the point). And I don't think that begins to shift until Heavensward. She's still water, here, but I believe she's frozen (irony?) into something a little tougher, a little more sure of her capabilities, and a little less willing to let others past her surface. She's lost too many people for that… but then she loses another, and another, and she starts to get angry. It's very bottled, at first, but it's there. And with that anger are the first sparks of her awakening to fire that start billowing bigger and brighter over the course of Stormblood, fed (though she wouldn't realize it at the time) by the discontent of the memories awakened to her that also serve as her initial connection to the truth – and to the element of air. And air becomes her most predominant element over the course of Shadowbringers.

Despite all the emotional pain of that particular storyline, Shadowbringers might be when Aeryn is (thus far) at her most emotionally balanced (likely helping her to withstand the power of the light for as long as she did).

Which makes me wonder what Endwalker has in store, and if this will end up flowing full-circle with her discovering a real foundation for herself and connecting more with the qualities typically associated with earth.

(I will genuinely cry if my Stormbaby can finally reach a sense of security and know the feeling of "home" by the end of current MSQ.)

Anyway, if you stuck it out and read through all of this, thank you! ♥♥♥

/beam

[nooosjdjenmrmrjrtjkr]

i’ve always hated being shy. i remember in 2011 watching disney channel original shows and movies, seeing the friendships on tv and always hoping for those dynamics. trying to put this to use in primary school, i would copy other people’s traits to get by but no matter how hard i tried there would still be a connection barrier. artificial greetings and awkward lulls in short conversations. i know that this is a universal experience, the epidemic of disconnection seems to be a global phenomenon. but sometimes i feel like this made me go without an actual personality until i turned 18. made me never graduate from aquanticeship with some people that i wanted to grow old with (i only turn 20 in 2 weeks i know im being melodramatic idc.)

shyness has always been seen as self sabotage to me. moving away from my childhood home, i ranted to my only queer cousin about this before i left and she poised a question that i still think about today, what is a real friend anyway? to my personal experience after looking back at everything, you can’t build your life around the friend that gives you artificial greetings and nothing more. who seems like your buddy at a midnight saturday function but would never synthesize their life into the organization of yours, vice versa. it separates out who is there for only a flicker and who is there to be apart of your world. who works on the emotional drapes of your inner life, the souls who care about what we had for dinner or what our thoughts on the most mundane things ever, its where you build actual community.

friendship has always been the most unique form of connection to me, trumping both family—and romantic partners (will always believe in the concept of becoming good friends before dating someone). with all of this in mind, i ventured out 500 miles away. i tried to take radical and a sometimes tongue in cheek approach to this for my first semester only to still be met with the same interpersonal distance…..with enough insistence though, (and a little presumptuousness), my personal traits feel genuinely fleshed out with a sea of people who i felt potential in and now adore

i still feel empty at times (like now for instance being back in my childhood home in 3 days) but i genuinely feel like that will be a feeling that lingers continuously. whatever happens happens and no matter where i am everything will be okay

[self-indulgence-of-shame]

"Solitaire"

By the window, but far from the door I do not want to look outside anymore Outside the window, there’s lots I can see Buildings in the distance and grass that’s green I can watch the sky change colors, as day turns to night As clouds gather, as rain pours and as the sun brings back its light I can feel the raindrops and the wind blowing I can hear the outside’s sounds, see people coming and going

What a fascinating world it is, Full of people and experiences But the window is just the biggest reminder Of how I stand at the edge of the line and never cross over So I turn away from the window But I don’t walk away; I can still feel the wind blow A nagging reminder at the back of my head But I ignore it by reading what I’ve already read

Because looking at anywhere but down at my phone Will simply remind me of how I am very much alone And my gaze will linger on that mocking door So why should I bother looking up anymore? Thinking about all this hurts my head It makes me want to go back to bed To fall asleep, and never wake So that I may soothe my heartache

I should focus on something else, like winning a game One that’s perfect for lonely people like me, it’s in the name A simple, easy-to-play card game called Solitaire It’s shown up in my dreams, I play it practically everywhere I play it so often you might think that I am obsessed But I just want to stop thinking about my loneliness But how can I do that, when it’s obvious? Right in its name, made for a one-person audience

I like the designs of playing cards, the different parts The diamonds, clubs, spades, and hearts The colors, they’re all in harmony Like a friend group or big family The king, queen and jack are my friends (Or maybe more like acquaintances) I can’t help but wonder, though Do they ever feel alone? Are we in the same boat?

Does the king ever feel lonely? For he is at the top, above the jack and queen Above the numbers and suits, he doesn’t think the same Absorbed in his thoughts, thinking of his reputation and name He thinks himself less than, he thinks himself greater He considers his glory and his worth, he’s his own #1 hater Absorbed in his mind, too absorbed in his own self The king becomes distant to everyone who knows him

It’s my own fault, I think, this solitude All because of my awkward, anti-social attitude I’m sure if I finally crossed that door, that line Friends and fun would fill up my time And I would forget loneliness, a distant memory A phase of my life, experienced by someone who is no longer me If I went and sought out the company of my friends, Then my lonely life would finally end

Does the queen ever feel out of place? Though she is surrounded by others, there’s still some space Space between her, and those she calls friends She feels like an actor for an audience It’s not that there’s plasticity in her relationships, it’s just a disconnect There are no lies she tells them, she’s just losing her grip The only person she’s lying to is her own self The queen pretends she is not alone among the crowd

At least, that’s what I hope will happen That’s what I want to happen That’s what I’ve tried to make happen, and yet… It’s love and company that I will forget I am like an outsider to my own relationships I’m a viewer; it feels like I’m losing my grip On my friends, and the only thing tethering me to reality Is the unbearable, overwhelming feeling of being lonely

Does the jack ever feel like an outsider? The suits are a group, the king and queen have each other He has nobody, he merely watches He’s not even part of the audience Watching from afar, through a window His feelings of loneliness grow If only he could be a friend to his own self The jack stands at the edge of the line

…I don’t think I want to play solitaire anymore My neck hurts from looking down, I look up at the door Then my heart hurts, because everything is just a reminder Of how I stand at the edge of the line and never cross over Will I ever cross over? Will my loneliness ever end? Will I ever be able to hold on to all my friends? Will I ever stop playing solitaire one day? Will I be able to feel the grass, and the sunrays?

…

Solitaire is a fun game, I like it very much (how could I ever hate the bandaid for my loneliness?)

[bakugosbratx]

omg could you do a dark villain Shoto x fem reader smut?

NSFW 18+ The Pawn— AU Villian! Shoto Todoroki x Fem! Reader

Warning: 18+ content. Unprotected sexual intercourse, alternate universe, toxic relationship, stolkholm syndrome, fluff, angst, gaslighting, manipulation, kidnapping, murder of family, punishment, bdsm, power play, yandere tendencies, etc.

Words: 2,410

Check out my other works here

A/N: Thank you so much for your request! I am so sorry it took me forever to do it. But I hope it meets what you’re looking for. This is my first time writing for Shoto so I apologize in advance.

Tags: @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie @milkthistletea @quietlegends @idfkwtfgof

“Any last words?” Shoto questions with a demeaning scowl of disgust, his index finger becoming restless on the pistol’s trigger. The barrel of the gun is resting on the man’s temple while he pleads for mercy.

“I’ll have your money by next week, I swear!” The man cried.

“You said that last time. To be quite frank, I’m not really fond of your lying, Y/L/N.” Shoto admits, cocking the gun so it can fire. The terrified man’s eyes grew wide as tears stream down his face.

“Shoto,” his breath hitches, “p-please. I have a family to take care of. A wife and two children. Please.”

Horrific muffled screams filled the kitchen where your family reside as the gunshot went off. Blood leaked from your father’s bullet wound onto the floor beneath him. You all were forced to watch, tied up and helpless. Shoto even had his crew gag you so your words would not disturb his business meeting. He hates interruptions.

“Disgusting.” Shoto complains, referencing to some of the blood covering his face. Igniting his left side, he sets your father’s corpse on fire. The smell of burning flesh filled your snot filled nostrils as more whimpers escaped your cloth covered lips. This caught Shoto’s attention.

“You,” he calls out as he makes his way towards your tied up body. He picks you up with ease, throwing you over his muscular shoulder. “Are coming with me.”

Your muffled remarks were no use as well as your kicks. You are terrified and not sure why Shoto, Japan’s notorious killer, is doing in your household right now, but you know it’s not good.

“Sir,” one of the men stopped you two as Shoto is making his way towards the exit. He pauses his motion, waiting for the man’s question. “What do you want us to do with the other two? Heroes will be here any moment.”

Shoto pondered the man’s words for a moment. You are silently pleading that he will just let them go, but that was not even a thought in his mind. “Leave them be.”

“But sir—“

“The house will be burnt to ash in any given moment,” he activates his left side for emphasis, “if you want to stay alive, I suggest you gather up the others and get a move on.”

The man nodded and Shoto begins walking out of the house. You struggle in his grasp, but Shoto remains undisturbed by your antics. Throwing you into the back of a van, he slams the double doors. Now all you are left with is your thoughts.

This doesn’t seem real. It truly can’t be. Your family is being massacred and there is not a thing you can do about it. You can even hear their muzzled screams as your house goes up in flames. Still, you are useless as the van starts and drives far away from the crime scene.

Shoto Todoroki is Japan’s worse nightmare. Numerous accounts of murder, abuse of power, kidnapping, anything terrible had Shoto’s name on it. No one knows much about the villain’s personal life except for his heroic father with a bad temper. Some say it is his fault for the way his son turned out and Shoto would agree, but Shoto’s crimes will not be taken from him. No, they are all his doing and he is proud of it.

“Y/N,” Shoto called, making you snap out of your thoughts. You turn to meet the man that now claims you as his. “Are you alright, love? You hardly touched your food.”

“Oh, I’m fine.” You mumbled, giving a soft smile. Bringing the ramen noodle soup to your lips, you forced yourself to eat the food. Your stomach is in shambles as the thoughts from that night came back. There are still many unanswered questions and unknown puzzle pieces, but that is a life you need to forget about. You are Shoto’s now. You have no choice but to be his.

Shoto studied your features. If there is one thing Shoto is not is dumb. He is observant. Just one wrong look and you are in deep trouble. Considering you have been living with Shoto for over a year now, you have grown accustomed to his ways. You have learned to appease him in anyway to make you happy. Especially if it is going to keep you alive.

“You know I don’t appreciate when you lie to me.” Shoto nonchalantly reminds you, noticing how quickly you swallow when the words flow out off his tongue.

“I-I’m not lying, Shoto. Honestly.” You stammered, hoping he would not notice the fear trickling in your eyes. He did, though. Shoto noticed everything about you. One of the many things you despised about him.

The rest of super was ate in silence. As you have learned, this is never a good sign. When Shoto is quiet, he’s plotting. Usually, it’s your punishment. You can see it in his eyes and the subtle touches he does to you. All to make you feel uneasy. Just like he can read you, you are learning to read him just the same.

Once dinner was over, he gathered the dirty dinning wear and washed them. You remained in your chair until you are granted permission to stand up. Your heart is racing with anticipation. What is Shoto plotting? Especially for something as simple as lying.

“Y/N,” Shoto paused to make sure your attention was his. The hairs on the back of your neck are standing straight along with your body stiffening. You hear him walking towards you, his one cold hand and other warm one rest on your shoulders. “Go upstairs to our shared bedroom.”

“Y-Yes, Shoto.” You mumbled, scurrying up the steps like the good behave girl he taught you to be. If only your filthy little mouth could stop lying.

Shoto is quick to follow after your trembling body. His presence is swallowing you whole as he march up the stairs behind you. Your clammy palm turns the golden doorknob into the master bedroom. You immediately turn around, groping your butt in fear for what may happen to it.

Shoto shuts the door behind him, leaning against it with his arms folded. His face held its usual unamused look as he glares at you.

“I’m giving you one last chance to be honest with me, Y/N.”

“I-I have been honest a-all along, Shoto.” You argued. Shoto’s glare intensified.

“You were thinking about your family again, weren’t you?”

“What? No, I-“

“You’re just like your father.” Shoto scornfully chuckled, strolling towards you. His right hand folded around your neck, giving it a nice squeeze as he whispered in your ear, “and you know how much I truly despise your father.”

His hot breath seemed to linger on the shell of your ear. Your eyes harden as they meet his. His icy hand seemed to make this choking experience even worse. You would get frostbite if it gets any colder, but something in you snapped. You have not fought back in months. You became the submissive girl Shoto desperately wanted you to be yet you are still in the same position as many times before.

“You’re one to talk.” You choked out. The hold on your neck became stronger, circulation being lost to your organs. You are pushed onto the bed, Shoto’s muscular form on top of you.

“Don’t you ever compare me to that monster again, understand me?” Shoto growls as he watch you struggle beneath him. You started to turn pale as your body loses its natural color from lack of air flow. His hatred from his father and yours is taking over as you slowly start to become unconscious. He finally lets go.

You cough, grasping for air. It felt like there was not enough in there to supply your deprived body. Especially with Shoto’s suffocating presence on top of you.

“You have some real nerve talking to me like that, Y/N. When will you learn that your family is the true bad guys in the situation, not me. They screwed me over and I came for what they owed me. You’re just a pawn.”

“You’re lying..” You mumbled out in disbelief. Shoto’s devious grin just grew wider at the tears in your eyes.

“I’m not like your father.” Shoto spats, venom dripping from every wretched word. Your heart is aching and this only fuels the fire.

“Fuck you.” You hissed, warm tears streaming down your face. Shoto only chuckled at your mere offense.

“I plan on it.”

Your look of disgust was ignored as Shoto’s lips trailed from your neck to your lips. You forced yourself to kiss back. You always do. You two had sex plenty of times and sadly, you enjoyed it, but when it’s used for punishment or after he has tears down any sheer ounce of self esteem you possessed it is quite difficult to get in the mood.

“Why do you keep me here?” You finally breathe out as your lips disconnect. Shoto furrowed his eyebrows together.

“Because your family is dead.”

“I know that!” You exclaimed. Shoto is very intelligent, but someone who is also literal. He does not always catch onto what you’re actually trying to ask. “I mean, if I’m just some pawn, why keep me here? Why not let me have the same fate as my family?”

Shoto stayed silent. He pondered how he should answer this. He just started touching you outside of the bedroom a couple months ago. It even took him a long time to have sexual intercourse with you. He knows he could have killed you off. He is sure of it. You have been a pain in his ass since he collected you for payment yet you’re still here.

“I don’t know.” Shoto answered, truthfully.

You sigh. You are not sure what answer you were expecting, but knowing where this is leading does not make you feel any better about yourself. You just feel more used.

Silence over fell you two. Shoto is in deep thought as so are you. You are worried that your days are numbered now, but Shoto was not even thinking about that. He is more thinking of himself and how he can’t murder you. He actually likes having you around. He may never say it and his facial features will never show it, but with you by his side, his frozen heart starts to thaw. Just by your simple glimpses and touches.

Part of him hated you for that.

“Shoto,” you whisper, catching his attention. You made yourself look away. You have so many conflicting thoughts. Shoto is all you have now and in all honesty, you have grown not to hate the guy. You love the soft touches and the way he keeps you warm at night. He is so observant of the slightest of things. That’s more than your family has ever given you.

Your right hand cupped his cheek. He seemed slightly tense by the action, but he instantly fell into your touch. Your thumb grazed his cheek.

“I-I,” you meet his gaze, “I enjoy your company.” You admit. Shoto kept silent, but your words meant something to him. You both are not good with this kind of stuff. You were never taught it. This is the closest thing you two will ever get to ‘I love you.’

Your lips connected once again. During the process, each one of your articles of clothing was discarded to the ground below. Shoto kissed down your exposed breast, stomach, and finally stopped at your pussy. He swiped his tongue between your folds sending chills down your spine along with needy moans escaping your parted lips.

“Shoto, please.“ You whined, wanting him to make you soaked already, but you are on Shoto’s terms. He gets to decide everything.

Luckily, he did not make you wait long as tongue swirled on your sensitive clit. Your legs rested on his shoulders as he devoured you. Small groans is all Shoto could do as his tongue explored every inch of your pussy. Not a spot was missed nor would he allow there to be. Your clit was being the most spoiled. Your entrance was then meet shortly after. You did your best to conceal your sweet melodies of pleasure, but Shoto is not allowing you to do so.

“You have a voice for a reason. Use it.” He orders in a low growl amongst your cunt.

“Shoto,” you sob, “I’m about to cum. Please.”

You arched your back as your cunt was about to release. Shoto sped up the pace, helping you meet your climax even sooner. On que, you sing sweet little melodies of moans as you release into the man’s mouth. Every drop was swallowed by him.

Shoto stood up, grabbing your hips to pull you closer to the edge of the bed. “Keep your eyes on me at all times. Understood?”

You nod, eagerly. “Yes, Shoto.”

Shoto aligned his erection with your weeping entrance. Shortly after, your walls are hugging his length as it dives deeper and deeper into you. Each thrust loosened you even more and he kept a steady pace. You gripped the expensive European satin bedsheets as you babbled incoherent words and phrases. You kept your eyes locked on Shoto the whole time just like he ordered.

“Shoto.” You finally moan aloud as his dick is inside of you.

“Yeah, you like that, baby?” He groans. Your crying cunt was dripping with your slick onto the fabric of the bed and on Shoto’s cock.

“Yes.” You manage to blurt out as you gasp for more. His cock felt amazing no matter how much you wanted to hate him for it. This is one of the ways he shows affection. You learned to accept that.

Shoto’s hands find their way to your bouncing titties. The difference between temperatures sent your body into overdrive. He loved seeing the lewd faces you make as he used his power to pleasure you. Shoto’s dick did not stop thrusting into you through this process either though it is twitching.

Pre-cum leaks into your cunt. Shoto removes his hands from your breast as he picks up the pace. His knees start to buckle beneath him as cum flows from his cock. Every drop is milked from him until he pulls outs.

This is his way of saying ‘I love you.’

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved

[mssirey]

can you write about alex and eliza reacting to kara packing?

I think I am going to get back to you on the Eliza front—I have to sort out my thoughts about how it would go, but here is Kara talking to Alex:

With most things that came up in Kara’s life, Alex was the first to know.

Packing was not like most things.

It took Kara a long time to even realize the significance packing held in her life, and it was Lena’s gentle hand she held as she ventured into that unknown. For months it was something that didn’t leave their apartments.

There was a distinct line at the threshold, sharply drawn, the jagged edge able to mar her flesh. She kept to her haven as she explored herself, guarded herself in her sanctuary, but the absence of her packer when she returned to the world outside was unmistakable.

Kara could feel the phantom sensation of it pressing against the inside of her thigh when she sat on Alex’s couch. She fidgeted, adjusted her pants as if it was there, shifted her weight with an acute awareness that it would never be right.

Alex’s brow was perpetually bunched, her eyes narrow and searching, her lips pursed in that deciphering way she got, but at every glance, Kara shied away. It was uncomfortable in a unique way.

Kara was not unused to lying. That was a given in her life. She knew how to skirt most truths, how to fake clumsiness or unawareness—all the things she needed to appear human.

It was not often she lied to Alex. She had little reason to, and Alex was remarkably good at seeing through her. Most lies felt gross to harbor, but the lie in question was especially unsettling. The lie Kara told was that she was whole, that she was happy, and she hated the way it rotted in her gut.

It wasn’t that she really meant to hide it from Alex. She just didn’t know how to bring it up, how to fit words to the feelings she had.

Kara shared her body with Lena, was comfortable exposing herself to wandering eyes, had regular conversations about what she enjoyed when her body was involved. It made sense for Lena to know those preferences.

Kara had a blanket bunched up in her lap, but it didn’t do enough to hide the absence, not when her leg bounced—just shy of shaking Alex’s whole apartment. She stared at the frozen image on the tv, finally realizing it was paused, but unsure if it was still the opening scene, having no recollection of what had transpired.

After another moment, Kara blinked and turned to find Alex staring. “What is happening right now?”

Kara chewed her lip, tore at her skin as only she could, peeled away bits until her lip felt raw. She was all too aware that Alex was giving her an opening, handing it to her on a platter, but still her throat tightened up. “What do you mean?”

Alex just crossed her arms over her chest and fixed her with a stare, her brows raised high, her head cocked slightly. “You’re too quiet.”

Kara snorted—a puff of indignant air. “We’re watching a movie,” she reminded, “or we were.”

Alex’s brow managed to creep higher still. “A musical.”

“You said I’m not allowed to sing along,” Kara exclaimed, more forcefully than she had meant, knowing it would only feed Alex’s suspicions, “that’s your rule!”

“That you have never once followed,” Alex shot back. “Kara, come on! What’s happening?”

The charade was never going to last, Kara knew that, and what was worse was the fact that she didn’t want it to continue at all and yet felt compelled to try. It felt like her control was slipping from her grasp, and more than anything that was where her struggle was rooted.

Kara felt so powerless to choose her expression, forced to consider how it would be received, constantly questioning if someone else’s discomfort was worth her comfort. Rationally, she knew that wasn’t how she was supposed to look at it, and she told herself as much, on repeat, pleading with her own heart to have mercy.

With Alex, there was the hurdle of bodies often being connected to sexuality and intimacy that didn’t fit into familial bonds. Kara couldn’t separate packing from privacy that Alex had always afforded her, as sisters. The closest they had gotten was commiserating with each other over the struggles of both human and kryptonian menstruation, but even that was just one-off grumblings they echoed; never a conversation that got deeper, never anything that brought closer attention to their bodies.

Kara brought the blanket up into her arms, hid her face in the soft fabric, muffled the cracking of her voice. “I’m just dealing with stuff.”

“What stuff? Did something happen with Lena?”

Kara squeaked as she stiffened, the air forced from her lungs, barely contained in the blanket. A lot had happened and it was nearly all that took up space in her thoughts. She could feel that constant swirl of warmth in her gut, always on the cusp of dizzying euphoria and spiraling doubt, but she also remembered Lena’s touch with such precision. Even then, she could close her eyes and Lena was there, whispering adoration against her neck, or slipping a hand beneath her clothes—

Kara squeezed her eyes shut, but shook the memories from her head. She didn’t need Lena to ground her in that moment. Alex was a safe person, always.

“No! Well, yes— but, no, not really. I mean,” she had too many lines of thought overlapping with each other, running themselves off course, until she was fumbling to form a single coherent sentence.

“Kara, breathe!”

Kara nodded, and let her hand fall, let it sit in a fist on the cushion between them, and Alex’s warm palm fit against the inside of her wrist.

“I… um, I…” the words didn’t come freely, catching over and over against her teeth, her lungs unable to give them the air they needed to form, “I want a… a thingy.”

Kara groaned at the mortifying way her brain had disconnected from her mouth, and the automatic way she filled in the blank was to use a term she would’ve when they were teens.

Kara didn’t dare look at Alex, the flame of her ears more than distracting, but she heard the stalled exhale and the confused blankness that settled about Alex. “A… thingy?”

“A penis, Alex!”

Silence lingered for a beat, but it wasn’t actually quiet. No, Kara could hear the little pops of tension in Alex’s rigid back, the dryness as she swallowed, the whispering movement of air as she blinked repeatedly, the patter of her heart—everything was so loud.

“Oh,” she breathed. “That thingy.”

Kara almost pulled her hand away, was compelled to as her nerves screamed and alarm rang in her ears, telling her to escape. But then Alex’s thumb shifted, slow and easy against her skin.

“Have you… um, is that… I don't know, new?”

Kara nodded, stiff and shaking. “I didn’t know it was something I could want. I mean, I did,” she corrected, “for other people, but... I never thought about it until I tried it, and—”

“Tried it?”

Kara made a little affirmative noise. “Wearing one.”

“Oh.” Alex cleared her throat, and Kara braced for her to pull away, but she stayed. “Is there something I’m missing?”

“No, I just… I just want to be myself around you… my whole self,” she managed, and it felt so selfish, so thoughtless, so—

Alex exhaled a sympathetic sigh. “Oh Kara, come here,” she scooted closer and wrapped her arms around Kara’s shoulders, squeezing until Kara let her head fall into the crook of her shoulder. “That’s all I want, too. Always.”

Kara felt so light, her heart racing, and still she sank into Alex’s hug, let herself be sheltered there. She could finally imagine being herself in the world, and the relief made her crumple into Alex’s support. 

[lgist]

Insecurity, is evil.

Insecurity, is evil. We are all evildoers. Like we are all fragile, the right words shattering us into millions of different pieces. So we must appear to be secure, thick-skinned. Our self-confidence could be waning, depleted, regardless our steeled exteriors show what is to be an entirely different story. An image of an easy-going, sociable, likeable person is what we all aspire to be. That person that everyone would want to make sure they invite to the next social gathering. I have been frequenting social gatherings myself, that being the largest motivator for this topic. Someone I know, who I thought I knew, lacks the confidence to share their real, authentic thoughts about a topic as open as life. I still wonder how they process the world, how they generally feel, day in and day out. It is not my place to poke and prod until I get an answer, what you think about the world is deeply personal. I just find it so interesting how we are all so alike, yet we relentlessly go on with this daily babble. It is so difficult for us to even say how we really feel. Our perceptions of others are anecdotal. We only know as much as someone will tell. So we are always in this constant state of blurred reality. Like we are desperate to forget our problems, yet the problems linger. The scent never quite washing away. Our problems fester, grow, become something larger than us, something we cannot defeat alone. The problems however, are the cause for insecurity. Our inability to surpass problems, our inability to trust in ourselves criples any sense of positive motion within our lives. We stand infront of progress because of a silly thought process. “If I say this, what will they think of me?”. The people you should consider confiding in, obviously, are the ones who understand you. People who lack the ability to judge, scrutinize or prod. People who listen, fully, to what you have to say. I am aware this is much easier said, than done. Who can you trust? Trust, is all emotion. Like this physical contract you place with another person and as soon as the contract is broken, the relationship is broken. What if you already have confided in some you thought you trusted and they end up telling other people, this deeply valuable secret? Well how can you ever expect to trust again? You have seen first hand what people are capable of. It is why I value writing so much, it is like this person I can go to. Express, with no gaps in between, myself. My secret are my own to share. People are capable of lying, of betraying trust, of showing no loyalty, as long as it moves them up the social ladder. Spreading gossip about ones thoughts as if it was currency to be traded. A blank page, is like an open ear and nothing else. So how can we trust eachother? What tangible idea binds trust? It is intangible, random, chaos. It can exist one day and feel like it was never there the next. 

In the deepest pits of insecurity, trust is no longer an option. Everyone is an enemy, everyone is out to get you, no one understands you, no one hears you. Isolated in your own bubble, drifting from friends and family. Unable to pick yourself back up and put yourself back together. Instead you lay shattered, never to be whole again. Until, you eventually see yourself to your grave, alone. With no one you really know attending your funeral. Just a crowd of faces, potential friendships and relationships, wasted. This inability to trust, is like a snowball rolling down a snowy mountain. It will build and build as it keeps rolling, you lose people. You disconnect further and further away until you are but a blip in that persons life. Someone who will be a forgotten face unless brought up in conversation. The snowball will eventually stop at the foot of the mountain, a big ball of self-hatred and continued negative spirals. It is here, you need to trust someone the most. For you have already given up, if you have no one you trust, there is no one to not give up for you. There will be no one to fight you against yourself. In a one on one you will always lose. No one understands you like you do, no one knows your ins and outs as much as you do. So it is here the insecurity will strike. It will use everything it has against you and without anyone to lean on as you trip and fall, you are defenseless. It will tell you the thoughts of other people, that don’t even exist. It will say, this outfit looks stupid. It will compare you with your peers, as your accomplishments don’t match up, so they must be the better person. It will feed you false positives from people you love, questioning their love to begin with. It will identify anyone as a threat and therefor you must close yourself off. For you cannot be hurt again, you cannot feel that grief again, so instead sit here and do nothing. People aren’t even interested in what you have to say anyway. Except this is far from the truth you believe it to be. Where there is capability to hate and betray, there is also capability for love and empathy.

People are naturally kind, forgiving. We are all alike so they will understand, if you give them a chance and regardless of one trusted relationship being betrayed, you cannot close yourself off from humanity. From the gifts it bears. Passion involves trust, for you must trust yourself to be passionate about something you love. Romance is trust, for you and your partner must be on the same page about the direction you want to take it. Security within yourself is trusting yourself that you will be ok, that everything will be fine no matter what happens, as long as you live. Trust is just another building block of life, it will get destroyed, it will get repaired with a new design and believe me, there are plenty of designs to choose from so don’t just let it sit in a pile of rubble, you are the designer afterall. Build your utopia of life, with those you trust. Remember the feeling of betrayal but don’t let it define each and every relationship after it has happened. Instead look at every relationship as a new book, with it’s own trials and tribulations, perhaps you will enjoy the next book more than the last. Take it slowly, rushing this aspect of life has a tendency to crash and burn. Insecurity is an abyss only those with help can get out of. It is why it wants you to be alone, don’t feed it more ammo, starve it completely. 

—--------------------------------------------------

I still do wonder what that person thinks of life. They are hiding so much from me, so much I want to unpack and listen to. One day, when the trust is there, I will know. Until that day I will move on to the next page, and the next, until I am there at the edge of my seat. Insecurity is the opposite of trust, do you still want to be there? Much Love - S

[dokidokey]

trace in the raindrops

summary: your relationship with keigo has been rocky for the past few weeks and your mind hasn’t been quiet in so long. what the both of you would give to take some things back.

pairings: takami keigo / hawks x reader

bingo slot: never got to say goodbye

genre: angst

warning/s: swearing, insecurities, depression, blood, death

word count: 4,989

notes: sixth bingo piece yay! i needed to get this out i’m sorry ehe if you’re uncomfortable with the topics this story is going to discuss, please don’t read. my event masterlist can be found HERE.

Raindrops are pattering against the window as you trace the frazzled lines it makes from the other side, awed by the way a droplet hits the glass like an explosion, breaking apart into tinier little drops like frail branches. You force yourself to listen to the rain as it rages outside, blocking out the soft padding of Takami’s feet on the carpet. You don’t want to see him go with this hell of a storm going on.

“Hey,” his murmur battles with the harsh noises outside, and you tilt your head just the slightest to let him know you’re listening. “I’ll be back soon.”

You nod curtly, not bothering to say anything because you’ve been like this for the past two days, gazing back at the gray scenery on the other side of the window pane. You’re expecting he will at least go over to you to pat your head like he did before, or maybe kiss you if you are lucky, but no. The muffled click of your bedroom door closing, soon followed by the rattle of the front door, is the only thing you got.

There’s a drawn out exhale from you, the tips of your fingers leaving blurred lines as it cascades down the glass along with the rain, settling in a fist on the sill as the ache in your chest feels like it’s crumpling your heart. Cheers to his girl friend for specifically asking for him to pick her up in this weather, and cheers to your boyfriend for agreeing instantaneously with a laugh as he gently pried you off him earlier.

The universe just isn’t with you today, huh? At least the mad pelting of the water seems in time with your heart, beating erratically against your ribcage. How you wish it’s caused by Keigo’s blinding smile or his crazy jokes, but it isn’t. You don’t even remember the last time he did that. You don’t remember the last time he faced you with the brightest and most genuine smile.

At least you get a glimpse of it when he’s with his friends. Right? That’s enough, right? At least somewhere outside the walls of your home, Keigo has a place where he is happy and truly himself. Even if it is not with you anymore.

You don’t know when the prickling feeling of jealousy, or maybe it was envy? You aren’t sure, it feels more like a mixture of both － a heterogeneous one too, so that is why you can’t seem to drown out the feeling. Something heavy settled on the pits of your heart and it grew its roots there, becoming one with your veins. You aren’t sure when you started feeling that, but when you understood the fact that your Keigo isn’t the same Keigo to his friends, that was when you welcomed the feeling in your heart, letting it grow and bloom inside you.

You never told Takami though, too afraid that in the early haze of his love for you, he would drop his friends and stick by your side. You’d probably be happy, not until you drown yourself of the guilt that he chose you over them － over the people he’s a different kind of happy with. You’re willing to destroy yourself inside to keep that little something of real happiness for him.

It’s not that his friends intentionally hurt your feelings because when they pass you both together, they would smile at you or nod in your direction. But there are some though, who goes straight to clapping Keigo in the back without acknowledging your existence. It made you feel small. What’s worse and caused the prominent bitter taste in your mouth was that Keigo never bothered to introduce you. He’ll go on talking to his friend, or friends, and you’re left standing beside him awkwardly, not sure if you should look at them or not, or kindly excuse yourself away.

There’s a bright flash in your line of sight, electric roots crawling down the gray clouds to find a home on the ground, quickly followed by a giant clap of thunder that shakes the walls. It resonates in time with your hurting heart, the drizzling rain like the salty tears slowly painting a shiny streak on your cheek.

It scares you how aware you are of yourself. The self-destruction is just on the very tips of your fingers. Only a little more, you keep chanting in your mind like a broken cassette tape as you push yourself upright. The digital clock bleeds the numbers 03:18 AM in bright red, creating a crimson glow on the surface of your table.

You didn’t mind that there’s a pounding ache blossoming on the back of your head. It lessens your guilt somehow. To you, at least, it feels like the proper apology Keigo deserves. You’re not even sure anymore if you’re guilty because you refused to answer his questions earlier or because you let the same insecurities get to you again.

Class ended early and as always, Takami is waiting outside your classroom. It takes a lot of effort to pull your cheeks up to give him a tight-lipped smile. His hands are gentle as he pats your head, and your heart constricts at the action, because your mind has been plagued with thoughts that made Keigo cry when you opened up to him. The feel of his hands cradling your cheek that day still lingers, the ghost of a promise that seems to be fading as time passes by.

He takes your bag in his and slings an arm loosely around your shoulder, steering you clear of the swarm of bodies littering the hallway. You’re floating again as he leads you, your surroundings turning into a blur as you let your thoughts drown you away.

You learned nothing today. Your professor had called you twice on two different occasions, and the embarrassment of not being able to answer his questions just added to the monstrous pile of negativity lounging in your head. Your mind keeps flitting back to your boyfriend, who you very much love. You think about how disconnected you are to him sometimes, more so to the world, and it feels like you’re taking his love for granted because you don’t know how to return the same intensity of his feelings.

You’re uptight, too. He didn’t really say that, but you know he thinks you are, because you are. You’re not in the same level of fun as his friends. Hell, you know your fun and their fun aren’t synonymous. You’re so different from Takami and his friends. It is like, if you look at a chart depicting Keigo, everything is stellar except you. His standards drastically dropped when you came into the picture

It further proves just how much you don’t deserve Keigo.

You’re shaken awake when Takami’s hands abruptly leave yours, caused by the force of a body colliding with your boyfriend. It was the girl who asked him to pick her up in the middle of the sky’s wailing two weeks ago, and your heart is rolling down your body towards the ground as Keigo’s hands swiftly latch on her arms, steadying her.

“Oh! Sorry Kei!” She giggles, and if the sound is a thing, it’d be the blinding sunshine. It tinkles like a lone wind chime, the melody being carried by the wind like a frail dandelion. Her eyes are twinkling as she takes a step back, gaze fixed on Takami, the brightest smile you’ve ever seen adorning her beautiful face.

Kei. It’s a cute nickname, you will admit. You never had the privilege of calling him nicknames though. And the fact that she’s standing there in front of your boyfriend, with you, his girlfriend, by his side, and uttering that word is just. . . She’s so much more than you, and jealousy sinks its green claws into your heart like a fork to a toaster as the pain surges in your chest like high voltage.

You’re not existing in Keigo’s world once again. You stand at his side, panicking a little because what are you supposed to do? Look at them? Smile at his friend? Make yourself known? Definitely not.

When Keigo wraps an arm around you again, you’re startled. Your head bumps on his chin when you abruptly look up from your phone, and there’s a soft hiss of pain from him.

“Sorry,” you squeak, quickly pocketing the device on your hand and cradling his face. “Sorry, sorry. Does it hurt?”

He shakes his head and you notice how long his hair is now. The soft tuff of ash blonde is kissing the back of his neck and without thinking, your hand moves to feel his hair. There’s a melancholic look swimming in your eyes as you do.

Keigo kisses your forehead then, and suddenly, your heart is in your throat. It was enough to make you cry, but you tell yourself no, you can’t cry, because when you cry, Keigo will ask questions. Questions mean answers, and your answer is his friends. All of them. How the mere thought of his friends break your heart so bad. How even the sight of them makes you feel so worthless in comparison.

You aren’t ready to tell him that, and you’re afraid you never will be.

During the car ride home, he keeps asking you if you’re okay. Are you sick? You don’t know. Maybe you are. Sick of his friends, sick of how they make you feel. Sick of this world. Sick, sick, sick. Sick in the fucking head for being like this. Why aren’t you like a normal person with a normal brain with normal feelings? Were those too much to ask? Was it that hard to give you that?

All you give Keigo are shrugs and shakes of your head and silent whispers of denial. Eventually, he grew tired of asking and of your worthless answers, releasing an annoyed huff and scrunching his eyebrows together in irritation.

There’s a bubbling guilt brewing in you from his reaction, and out of the blue, you wrap an arm around his and ask, “Are you mad?”

His expression doesn’t change as he shakes his head no, but the way he shrugs off your touch is enough answer for you. He is quiet for the rest of the day and his irritation sticks to him like a leech, seeming to suck him dry of his love for you as he didn’t even bother to bid you good night when he went to bed.

It all feels too fast, too much of a whirlwind. You feel like a candle nearing its end, your flame dangerously close to the other end of the wick.

The guilt of making Keigo feel bad is perched heavily on your shoulder. There’s an unbelievably massive emptiness inside you as you realize you’re just another version of Atlas, carrying the world alone. It’s insanely frightening that somehow, in some way, Keigo is your world. You’re carrying him and all his feelings and everything in your hands, and you can only take so much what with your thoughts piercing you like fire-tipped arrows.

So your way of forgiving yourself is this: depriving yourself of sleep. Maybe you won’t eat the whole day tomorrow too to make the guilt vanish like it’s never even there. Your hand is absolutely numb as you force yourself to move it. There’s only one last paragraph left of your homework and as you come to end it with a period, a relieved sigh bubbles out your lips and your head smack down harshly on the table, eyesight spinning.

By the time a hand is soothingly rubbing your back and another one is shaking you awake, your digital clock glares 04:02 AM to you. Keigo pushes stray hairs out of your face as you blink at him wearily.

“Come to bed,” he murmurs, and you revel in the softness of his words, the gentleness of his touch. There are tears brimming behind your closed eyelids as you lean in on his touch. When Keigo laces his fingers with yours to help you up, you oblige. When he tucks you in and wraps an arm around your waist, you smile, a lone tear trickling on your temple.

You’d sacrifice endless sleepless nights for this kind of affection again. If all this is caused by Keigo’s drowsy state, it’s okay, you won’t complain. At least like this, in the quiet of your home and the chaos in your head, you found a little solace, even just for the meantime.

Your spacing out during lectures is taking its toll. Yesterday, when your professor suddenly announced a pop quiz, the number and equations on your paper didn’t make any sense. You failed the quiz and, today in history, you fail another pop quiz. The nearing exams don't calm your frazzled state of mind. The constant fights with Keigo is only adding up to your stress and you’re not sure where to go anymore.

You find him unfair. In times like this that you and him aren’t on good terms, he has his friends to run to. You? What about you? You have nothing except him, and it’s sad to think that you can’t be honest of the one person closest to you. It’s heartbreaking that he’s also the cause of your constant sadness.

You appreciate Keigo’s efforts, really. There’s nothing like the way your heart swells whenever he approaches you to try and mend whatever it is that’s broken between you, but the swelling of your heart causes your throat to close up, and he’s left with choked breaths and stuttered out words. In the end, he let it be.

It’s a Saturday and the exams are over, and you sleep in just for today, trying to catch up on the consecutive all-nighters you pulled to study that didn’t help you out in the end, because most of your answers are just blank spaces on the paper. It’s late and sunny, the window to your right cresting slanted patterns on the wooden floorboards.

The bathroom door opens and comes out a freshly showered Takami, drying his hair with a towel and clad in denim. He halts as he sees you awake, but continues just as quick to pull out a shirt from his cabinet.

“We’re going out today, the guys and I,” he informs you in a cold voice, and it’s like being pricked by the sharpest icicle. He doesn’t bother looking at you as he puts his shirt on and grabs his spare keys for the front door. “I’ll be out late so keep the door locked while I’m gone.”

The heaviness in your chest is unmatched by Keigo’s ignorance and icy attitude as he lets himself out of your shared bedroom without another glance. You try to convince yourself that no, he just needs to get something outside and he’ll come back to bid you goodbye, maybe even kiss you or at least pat your head, but you can’t stomach the chilling sound of the door slamming shut in this eerily quiet house.

You didn’t bother getting up to eat, proceeding to just sleep and hoping your slumber would slowly dissipate the clawing jealousy and envy brooding in your chest. You wake up some time at night with the constant buzzing of your phone. You’re greeted by numerous texts from Rumi, a close friend of yours.

[rumi 08:17 pm] y/n i swear to fucking god is this your boyfriend

[rumi 08:17 pm] 927482.jpg

[rumi 08:17 pm] im going to break this mans neck y/n im telling you

[rumi 08:18 pm] RESPOND Y/N WHERE ARE YOU

[rumi 08:18 pm] it really IS your fucking boyfriend

[rumi 08:19 pm] whos that bitch on his lap

[rumi 08:19 pm] y/n if you dont respond asap im dragging these two by their necks outside

[rumi 08:20 pm] Y/N I SWESR WHERE ARE TOH RESPONS TI MY TEXTS FFS

Your heart is mad against your chest as it beats erratically, dainty fingers shaking as it taps on the attachment Rumi sent you. You have to increase your phone’s brightness because all you can see are the neon lights in the background but alas, after the settings panel lowered, there he is, with the same girl sitting on his lap.

“O-oh,” your breath stutters. You stare at the photo longer, hoping that it will magically transform into another man’s face because hell, that cannot be your Keigo. No. But it is him. That’s the same shirt he was wearing when you woke up. The way his eyes are shining and the quirky smile on his face is a clear giveaway that yes, it really is your boyfriend. You don’t miss the hand lazily draped over the small of her back.

That is the same hand that used to pat your head, rub your back, comb through your hair. That is the same hand that used to hold yours, although you can’t remember when was the last time.

Your chest physically aches at the thought of Keigo in there, with her, without you. He’s out there and you’re here after he left you with nothing. He has some audacity. And he’s going to come home to you in, say, three or four hours? For what?

But hey, who says he will come home tonight anyway?

The first thought finds it home inside your brain immediately, quickly followed by more as they try to take up the spaces in your head. What if Keigo doesn’t come home? Would he kiss her? Is he cheating? Does he love her? Is she better? What is wrong with you? What happens if Keigo doesn’t come back tonight? Does he tell her the same soft I love yous he tells you? What if they. . . ?

A wracking sob shakes your body heavily, fists tight against the comforter you’re slowly pulling up your knees, trying to shield yourself from what, you do not know. The betrayal feels like no other － like a bitter something that is slowly crawling down your throat and heart, sitting heavy in your stomach, ruining you inside.

The embers of your hate for his friends flares up, the flames licking at your chest as it aches. And no one even cares to remind him he has a girlfriend? That letting another girl sit on your lap while you’re in a relationship means you might as well break up? They know of your existence and stance in his life yet they let him anyway?

Keigo let her anyway.

Another sob tumbles out of your mouth, somehow it is the only comforting sound inside the tense silence in your room. What you’d give for Keigo to be home, wrap you in his arms, and assure you everything will be alright. What you’d give to take back all your confessions about the absolute chaos in your head, feeling like a fool for letting your defenses down and being vulnerable in front of him just to treat you like this.

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting there when the front door rattles open, and soon there’s a drenched Takami standing on your bedroom’s doorway. The rain is raging outside and you didn’t even notice.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks, chest heaving, taking cautious steps toward your slumped form. You’re not sure why he’s saying sorry. Maybe Rumi did drag him and that girl out of the club.

You wipe the back of your hand to your cheek, erasing the evidence of your crying. You plast on a wobbly smile at him. “It’s okay,” you assure, despite the fact that you’re not assured. Pushing the comforter off you, you make a way for the pile of towels on the corner, and approach your boyfriend.

There’s a pained look on his face as you brought the cloth to his face, gently drying the rainwater dripping on his skin. Keigo sighs and angles his face away from you and grabs your wrist.

“Stop.”

You shake him off, the sides of your eyes burning, placing the towel on top of his head and drying his hair. It hurts to see him right now, but at least he’s home. Right? At least he’s here. With you. He came home.

“Y/N,” he stresses, hands gripping your arms hard like hot ice and shaking you adamantly. “For fuck’s sake, Y/N, I said I’m sorry.”

Keigo’s voice cracks.

You smile again, a little crooked, a little hurt. Your breath is hot against his cheek when you say, “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Keigo exhales, something dark looming on his face. He pushes your hand away, and a tear slips down your cheek, but you’re quick. Your hand swipes it away as fast as it fell down, and there’s only a shadow of the trail it left.

The man in front of you sighs in exhaustion as he runs a shaking hand through his hair, the sound heavy on his chest. He sounds so tired. Fed up. Done. Is this how he will break up with you? The thought alone breaks your heart, and there is another trickle of tear down your eyes, and a choked sob escapes you.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Keigo murmurs in remorse as he slowly pulls you in his arms, and you immediately latch to him, uncaring of the voice inside your head saying this is the same man who has his hands on another girl. He came home. He’s here with you. That is all that matters. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m sorry.”

There’s no stopping your tears as it soaks the neckline of his shirt. Your breath is hot against his neck, contrasting his skin that is cold from the rain. “I know Rumi told you. She talked to me,” he explains, lips grazing your temple in a way that hurts so good. “I’m sorry, baby, it’ll never happen again.”

You pull your head away from his neck, breathing in through your nose, voice croaky. “I－ I’ve never－ You don’t see me sitting like that on other men's lap, Keigo,” you lament, the image flashing before your eyes again. “I feel so cheated.”

His hands are caressing your back and the pressure is a nice reminder that you aren’t alone anymore. “I know. I’m so sorry.”

Though you know no amount of sorrys can mend that little piece of your broken heart, you let it slide. You let it go. You just relish in this moment you manage to steal away from his friends, snuggling against his neck despite the cold bite of his wet clothes on your skin.

When Keigo suggests both of you clean up now that you’re also drenched in rainwater, you oblige. The soft feeling of his hands rubbing your scalp and his whispers of countless I’m sorrys is kept behind the tiny area of your bathroom. When you’re cuddled up to him right before bed, you don’t understand the difference of I love you and I’m sorry anymore.

It’s raining again.

Keigo decided to take you out today, saying it has been so long since the last you did. There’s a bitter remark in the back of your head saying, that’s because you don’t pay attention. It’s always your friends over me. It’s always her over me. But you ignored it, too elated by your boyfriend’s proposals because finally, after so long, it’s you and him again.

You look up at your transparent umbrella, eyes transfixed on a raindrop that lazily glides over the curve of the plastic, rejoining the ones that had built up at the ends. It falls down the puddle at your feet, the echoes of its fall waving in the water. You smile and pull out your phone to call Keigo. He was supposed to be here ten minutes ago.

He picks up on the second ring. “Sorry,” comes his greeting, “I’m on my way, I promise.”

“It’s okay.” There’s nothing to be sorry for. You move the tips of your shoes to tap the puddle, and your reflection on the water dances. “I’ll be waiting here. Take care, okay? I lo－”

You don’t see it because you’re looking the other way, totally oblivious of the car reeling towards your direction. There was no beep or honk or anything. All there was was the screeching of tires on wet asphalt, but it’s too late.

You make eye contact with the wide-eyed man behind the wheel. Touya’s eyes look about to fall, and it would have pulled a good laugh out of you because this usually calm and collected friend of Keigo is panicking, but you know you can’t do that. Not anymore. Not ever.

The pain comes at full blow on your chest and your breath is knocked out of your lungs from the impact. You manage to register the fact that after that excruciating hit, your body is thrown back and hits the shed’s post. Something cracks through the happenings of it all.

Your phone is not in your hands anymore, your umbrella is gone. The rain is pattering against your face, mixing with the blood slowly pooling under your body. You barely understand Touya’s words as he runs off to you, lips moving in frenzy as he talks on his phone.

Keigo’s heart drops. What the fuck was that?

“Y/N,” he calls, dread sitting tight on his chest, “Y/N? Hello? Can you hear me?”

You don’t answer. He wants nothing than to get out of this fucking train and go to you. This seems too slow. Too slow.

Faintly, he hears it. A voice. His friend’s voice, to be exact. What the hell is Touya doing there with you? He picks up a few words, like accident and ambulance, and it feels like his heart is about to fall.

What happened to you? God, if anything bad happened to you, Keigo might lose his mind.

He’s out of the train when his phone rings again, and his heart skips with the thought that maybe it’s you, but when it displays Todoroki’s name, he almost throws the device away. “What?” He snaps, wiping the raindrops falling frantically on his face. His irritation and anxiety heightens. It’s like the raindrops are there to tell him to move faster, walk faster, get to you faster.

“Keigo, fuck, fuck, fuck,” comes Touya’s voice in Takami’s ear, and he abruptly stops at the distressed tone of his voice before moving again, mind wrapped around the thought of getting to you immediately.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Touya moans, “I’m so fucking sorry, I swear, I didn’t mean it, man.”

Keigo refuses to accept it. No. He ends the call and his rushed walk turns into a sprint, the soles of his shoes beating in time with the drops of rain. Maybe this is all a dream － a vivid one at that, because when he sees the familiar shed where you told him you’ll wait, it all feels too real.

His legs are straining from the effort he’s exerting to get to you faster, yet at the same time, he doesn’t want to. Seeing you will make it real. Keigo cannot accept that. He doesn’t want to accept that.

But there you were, eyes toward the sky and unseeing, arms splayed. Fuck. He skids to a stop next to your body, ignoring the bite of the concrete against his knees and Todoroki, who is looking at him wide-eyed.

“No, no, no, no,” Keigo rasps, hands hover over your body. The fear of touching you is sending alarms off inside his head. No. This cannot be true. This isn’t you.

But you’re wearing the necklace he gave you on your first anniversary, the gold lace hanging crooked on your neck.

He doesn’t mind the mix of blood and rain seeping into his clothes as he carefully, carefully places a hand over your forehead, and he wants nothing but to shake you awake but the dead look in your eyes is killing him.

“I’m so sorry, love,” he whispers, closing your eyelids and resting his forehead on yours, and he cries. Is this what he gets because he’s been neglecting you? Is this in exchange for the act he pulled yesterday night? Is this the universe taking back the greatest thing in his life because he didn’t appreciate it enough?

You didn’t even get to say goodbye.

Keigo has it etched on his mind － your little phrases over the phone whenever the call is nearing its end. Take care. I love you. Bye. With the last word drawn out, childlike and wondrous. You weren’t even able to say those things. One last time.

But Keigo is aware of all the times he did not bid you goodbye. Every instance is eating away at him every day, his pride too big for him. It feels as though he took your for granted, and yes, maybe he really did.

What Keigo would give to turn back time and love you the right way you deserved.

He doesn’t realize when the medics came. He didn’t respond when a voice asked him to step back, thrice, until arms were lifting him off his feet. He didn’t say anything when somebody asked his name. All he can see is your body, drenched in water and blood.

You always did love the rain, so maybe that is why he’s so transfixed with the webs of crimson slowly mingling with the water on your skin. He watches as it becomes one with the rain, dripping down the pavement, and he knows soon it will disappear, all evidence of how once upon a time, Takami Keigo lost the love of his life in this very place.

more notes: i don’t know why i do this to myself heh this was supposed to be way darker and sadder, but i changed it last minute jskdl hope you enjoyed!

[naancypants]

maybe this is perfect

Alright here is my finalized repost of the fic I accidentally published yesterday, LOL. If you enjoy, I'd love some support on Ao3 (work link is below)! I wrote this after 2x12 (+ updated to reflect news about 2x13 & 2x15, hehe) as a sort of speculative, "personal ideal" confession scene for the finale episode.

Ao3 | 2,051 words

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"Hey," Nancy says from behind, twisting both hands around the strap of her messenger bag. "Can we talk?"

At the sound of her voice, Ace straightens from in front of his locker. He lets out a close-mouthed sigh as the question sinks into his stomach, and when he turns towards her, the discomfort she's feeling becomes evident in her body language.

"Yeah."

A beat passes where neither makes a move.

Nancy, however, is the first to take a step, drawing in a shuddering breath. "You've been avoiding me... for a while now. Ever since the whole life-and-death thing with Daniel West. And I'm sorry that I was willing to let people die to save you. I thought you would understand, that you would've done the same thing-"

"It's not about the list," Ace cuts in with a shake of his head, "That was a long time ago."

In reality it had only been a few weeks since Nancy and Grant traded a hit list to a professional killer to spare Ace's life, but time seems to move inordinately slow in Horseshoe Bay.

"I know. But that was also the same time I called in for a favor with Celia Hudson..." she allows her sentence to drift off there, urging Ace to connect the unspoken dots.

He hadn't tried to hide his feelings on the whole Celia situation, especially whenever he and Nancy talked one-on-one; yet still, her ability to pinpoint the root of behaviors she already notices in him never fails to surprise.

"I just... wish you would have consulted me before you made a deal with the devil."

Nancy recalls a talk during which she was alone with Ace, where he'd briefly confessed his dismay at her recent dealings with the Hudson matriarch.

A string of monotone words all run together as she attempts to explain, "We already went over this, Ace. I-I-I had to figure out how to save you, there was no time to consider my options."

"Maybe it wasn't worth it."

Within a second, revulsion twists every feature on Nancy's face.

"I'm sorry, what?" she demands.

Ace doesn't elaborate. Instead he lifts his raincoat from its hook and shuts the door to his locker, staring down at the garment in his hands with a shamed expression. It isn't long before Nancy has his elbow in a firm grip.

"Hey," she convinces him to whirl around and face her. "You're worth it to me."

You're always worth it to me. You're worth everything to me. A thousand times over, she wants to say. But she doesn't.

"I guess that's my problem."

"Your problem is that I care about you?"

"I don't want to be the reason you sell your soul to the Hudsons."

Nancy blinks, her ferocity weakening as she pulls away. "Aren't I allowed to make my own choices?"

"Of course. But... that doesn't mean I have to like them."

The way he says it is so casual, so lacking in venom that it makes her stomach wrench. He doesn't realize that the only approval Nancy craves is his; she is willing to stand up against even the closest of people in her life - Nick, George, her own father - but not Ace. His opinion of her serves as a compass whenever Nancy is too tired or worn down to trust her own judgment. His opinion is the one that matters most.

"Then what do you want from me? Tell me what I can do to make it better."

It's the most fragile, the most desperate she thinks she's heard herself. Nancy Drew is independent and decisive and strong. So whose voice is it that wobbles in fear, laying down her pride in the hands of another?

If there's anything Nancy can't stand, it's being clouded over with emotion, but the tightness in her throat only warns of an oncoming flood.

"Honestly, Nancy, I don't know right now. Maybe just... help me understand why before you make these kinds of decisions. I don't want you to get hurt."

Their eyes linger for what feels like an eternity, distanced by walls that neither of them know how to tear down.

When Ace moves, he turns decisively away.

Panic beginning to swell in her chest, Nancy pushes past all the other emotions running through her mind - fear, guilt, uncertainty - and takes one last step into the room before he has the chance to get away.

"I did it because I love you."

If anything could stop him cold in his tracks, it's that particular confession. His eyes meet the floor in front of him, speechless and calculating, each second ticking by in tense silence. He turns to face her once more.

There in the center of the room she stands, the bold and courageous girl detective herself, looking smaller than ever. Her voice is barely above a whisper now, eyes in danger of spilling over, "Ace... I think I might be in love with you."

Ace stands motionless in awe, save for a swallow and quick shift of his weight.

When Nancy gets nervous she often rambles to relieve some of her tension. "I didn't know how to say it before, and I- have never actually been in love so maybe I didn't even know what I was feeling until recently, but, you were with Amanda Bobbsey and not in love with me and it's all... very confusing..."

Breath leaves her lungs as quickly as words leave her tongue, anxiety shaking her down to the core. She blinks when the self-awareness sets in; lowers her gaze to the floor for a length of awkward silence.

"Nancy."

Eventually she looks back up to find him just a few feet away now, having crossed the room sometime after she finished prattling on about nothing. His raincoat hits the bench.

"There are.. a lot of reasons why I can't do this right now." He indicates himself with a curved hand to his chest.

Though her heart sinks, Nancy's eyelids still flutter. "But you- you would? Hypothetically?"

His mouth flattens into something that's not quite a smile, eyes as earnest as ever. "It's just that... y'know, Amanda's only been gone for a week. And I don't want to lose what we have - what all of us have."

"You won't," Nancy states with a furrowed brow, "Why do you think you would lose us?"

He bobs his head a bit. "Things could get complicated between us. Especially considering... things."

"What do you mean? What kind of things?"

"Well, I'm not trying to point fingers, but... there is your track record. With relationships."

It doesn't escape her attention that he refuses to make eye contact when he says the last part. She tenses up and repeats, "My track record?"

Ace opens his mouth to soften the words, but the look on his face is enough to suffice as an apology. Nancy retreats on her own as three particular guys - Ned Nickerson, Owen Marvin and Gil Bobbsey - flash through her mind's eye. Guys she had used as a distraction, a rebound, and a means of sexual gratification, all of which Ace witnessed firsthand from the sidelines.

"Yeah I deserve that, don't I," she says quietly.

"No, you don't. That part's fine. It's about everything else."

"Everything else being the Hudsons, Amanda, and losing what we have."

He offers only a nod. Draws in a breath. "Nancy, I want to love you too. And I'm not saying that I don't, but..." his voice breaks, just a bit, but enough for Nancy to notice.

"...It's not the right time," she finishes for him with a resigned nod; "yeah," under her breath.

This time it's Nancy who won't meet Ace's eyes. She darts them all across the room in avoidance, lips pursing together. "I'm- I'm sorry. This is.. not really who I am and I probably shouldn't have said anything to begin with, but-"

"No - no, don't apologize," Ace says with the usual gentle firmness and a slight tilt of his head. "I'm glad you said something. Really glad. In fact, um, if you're not opposed... there is something I wouldn't mind trying before you go off to Columbia."

"Ha. Who says I'm getting into Columbia?" she asks sardonically, crossing her arms.

Ace gives a subtle grin of support. "You'll get into Columbia."

She stops to consider his words, but then emits a soft chuckle, smiling gratefully at her best friend as though there were no mistakes, no confession of feelings, no heartbreak to contend with.

Time drags on as his vague statement from before remains unaccounted for, though almost as if pulled by gravity, there's a mutual instinct that draws them closer together.

Along with instinct, however, is hesitation - a slowness in the way they line themselves up, a caution in the way they read each others' eyes. Gradually his hands find their way to her jawline and before she knows it, in stark contrast to their prior pace, her back is up against metal with the most satisfying warmth she's ever known on her lips.

Nancy's entire body lights on fire, so much that it takes a dazed moment before she is able to react. Her eyebrows lift as she takes full advantage of the moment, kissing him back with the fervor of months worth of pent-up feelings all finally coming to surface; hands crawl upwards from his arms, to his shoulders, and eventually land on either side of his neck.

For a few rapturous seconds, they allow themselves to melt entirely into each other with the realization that things won't be like this again for a while; not until they're able to overcome the doubts, the obstacles, the emotional walls that they both know would cause more harm than good if they were to pursue this now.

Maybe this is perfect. Maybe one kiss - one blissful, ravenous taste of just what it is they're missing out on is enough to satiate their appetites for the time being and prepare them for what's to come.

With one last surge forward, hands sliding down his chest, Nancy realizes that kissing Ace never felt this good in her dreams.

Then, sooner rather than later, it's over.

Though their lips disconnect, everything else remains. A breathless minute comes and goes before either have any words to speak.

"Are you- are you sure you don't want to change your mind?" Nancy finally asks through her teeth, eyes drifting down to his mouth more than once.

A smirk tugs at his face as he steps back, hands remaining on Nancy's forearms for perhaps a touch longer than necessary. "Few more of those and I might."

Nancy gives a wistful giggle, using her shoulders to launch herself away from the lockers right when her phone buzzes.

Ace watches with curiosity as she opens her latest text notification, but waits silently to be filled in.

"It's George. She says they're waiting for us at their place," Nancy murmurs with her brow lowered, looking at Ace for a potential answer to her confusion.

Rarely one to disappoint, Ace nods in recognition. "Oh yeah, they took it upon themselves to reschedule game night. I was supposed to tell you."

Nancy raises her eyebrows in good spirit. "Ah. Well, I'm sure glad you told me in plenty of time."

"Come to think of it, Bess pretty much insisted I be the one to tell you. The whole thing must've been a ruse."

Nancy shrugs. "Eh, you know what they say. What's done is done." she waits a beat before thumbing towards the back door over her shoulder. "Join me?"

"Yeah," Ace agrees as he grabs his raincoat and the pair start walking out. "Yeah but I have to warn you, none of what just transpired is going to have any affect on how badly I demolish you in Absurd Code Word."

"Wow, Ace, I think you're underestimating my game night abilities. Have you ever seen me in Absurd Code Word?"

"Don't need to."

"I see. Is it because I'm a girl?"

"C'mon, Nancy. You know me better than that."

The ease with which they're able to shift gears serves as a delicate reminder of how intrinsically they are connected; of the level of comfort and stability within their potential when the time is right.

Whenever that may be.

[alyasgf]

She

mlb masterlist

ao3

Summary- she by dodie alyanette songfic!

alya has a huge crush on marinette, like huge, but she knows it’s unrequited.

Word Count- 1354

Notes- kinda short, but im trying to get alyanette out of my system because i have like twenty other prompts i want to get to :’)

Begin

Am I allowed to look at her like that

Could it be wrong when she's just so nice to look at

When Alya first saw her she couldn’t help but stare. She was beautiful. With her mesmerizing sky blue eyes and dark blue pigtails, Alya couldn’t help but stop in the doorway to admire her. After watching her for a minute she noticed the blonde girl beside her who seemed to be yelling.

It was only then that she took the chance to make her first impression.

“Hey! Who elected you Queen of Seats?”

Okay so maybe not her best line, but it seemed to work. As she pulled the girl away she could feel the nerves seep away. The blue haired girl seemed clumsy, but good natured. She learned the girl’s name, (“Marinette.” She told her as they shared a macaroon,) and even after the absolute insanity of the day, over superheroes and villains, all Alya could think about was her.

And she smells like lemongrass and sleep She tastes like apple juice and peach

You would find her in a polaroid picture And she means everything to me

After months of sharing secrets and sharing time, Alya and Marinette were easily each other's closest confidants. They’d spend almost every spare moment together. Marinette would groan and complain about her boy problems and Alya would scheme with her on new ways to finally catch Adrien’s attention.

Sure, at first it hurt to hear the girl she had a massive crush on talk about the boy she was in love with, but once Alya accepted that her feelings would never be reciprocated, it became easier.

Still, there were moments when Alya swore they could be something more.

It had only happened a few times. Only late into their sleepovers, and always platonic to Marinette. Small kisses that were followed with giggles and jokes.

“Have you ever wondered what it’d be like to kiss a girl? “ Marinette asked one night, after hours of movies and sweets.

Alya choked. “What?” She sputtered. She had to be dreaming, surely Marinette hadn’t just said what she thought she said.

“You heard me.” She replied, laughing. “Not that I’ve spent too long thinking about it, or like specifics or anything, but I don’t know, it's an experience?”

“Sure, I’ve thought about it.” Alya said absentmindedly, brain replaying each and every one of the fantasies in which her best friend featured in. “Just a few times.”

“Well, would you want to? Y’know, with me?”

Again, Alya lost control of her breathing. Her heart began to race and palms began to sweat. Was this really happening?

“Oh c’mon,” Marinette laughed again, now at her friend’s shocked expression. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, it’s just if I were to have my first girl kiss with anyone, I’d want it to be you.”

Alya tried not to focus on how she worded that question. ‘First girl kiss.’ Would there be more? More importantly, would Alya share the experience with her more than once?

She looked at her friend. She was red, and where there was once a playful, curious expression there was an unsure one, red from blushing.

“I’m sorry. I probably made you uncomfortable, didn’t I?” Marinette rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly, face getting impossibly more red. “It’s fine, you don’t have to, I-”

“No, I want to!” Alya blurted out, worried she had ruined her one chance. “I mean, I’m not uncomfortable with it if you aren’t.” She added hastily. A million thoughts ran through her head at once. ‘Am I actually going to kiss Marinette? Is this a dream? Dear god tell me I’m not dreaming.’

“Okay!” Marinette said excitedly, as her expression changed to one of excitement. Alya nearly swooned at that. Marinette looked that way at the prospect of kissing her. She could barely breathe.

Alya’s brain short circuited. She wasn’t sure how it happened, one second she was gazing into Marinette’s eyes, the next there was a quick press of peach flavored lips on hers. It was over in an instant.

Marinette laughed while Alya attempted to draw out her usual confident self amidst the red cheeks and lingering taste of fruit.

They always laid close at the end of each sleepover, Alya’s face buried in Marinette’s hair as the smaller girl snored lightly on her chest. She smelled of strawberries and pastries always, but in moments like these it was so strong Alya couldn’t help but be reminded how deeply she had fallen in love.

She was picture perfect in every light. Eyes always so full of hope and a creative glint. Her smile and willingness to help nearly everyone made her personality that much more magnetic. Her hands were always warm, always soft, save for the occasional cut or two from her clumsiness while designing.

Alya couldn’t remember life before her, and couldn’t begin to imagine being without her. She was like a drug, so immersive and addicting that Alya would never be able to stay away for long. She was her best friend, but more than that, she was her soulmate, and if that had to be platonic, so be it. Marinette was just like that, so appealing that people wanted to be around her in any way they possibly could, in any form they possibly could.

I'd never tell

No I'd never say a word

And oh it aches

But it feels oddly good to hurt

Love. Even though she felt it so strongly whenever Marinette was near, she was content in keeping the emotions to herself. Marinette was frustratingly straight, between Luka and Adrien, she didn’t stand a chance. The only thing that would result from a confession would be confusion and unrequited feelings.

So instead Alya stole moments when she could. A few long glances, kisses in the dark, hugs that lasted a second longer than normal, these were what she could get, this was what she lived for. The rush she would get from it, for just a second tricking herself into believing that they were anything more than moments between friends.

But then the second would pass, and all she would be left with was a dull aching in her chest to pull her back into reality. It hurt, hurt more than anything in the world sometimes, but she would never trade the feeling, it reminded her she was alive, reminded her how colorful the world could be by Marinette’s side.

and I'll be okay

Admiring from afar

Cause even when she's next to me

We could not be more far apart

Cause she tastes like birthday cake and storytime and fall

But to her

I taste of nothing at all

Sometimes the feelings would overwhelm her, late at night long after Marinette had wished her goodnight over the phone, with an ‘I love you’ that stripped Alya’s heart down to it’s core knowing it would never be meant in the way she always dreamt it’d be. She’d clutch her pillow, tears streaming down her face.

Deep down she knew it was all a lie. Of course she wasn’t content with keeping her feelings bottled up, but what choice did she have? Marinette would never feel the same way in a million years, no matter how much she loved Alya, it would always be through the lens of friendship and nothing more.

As close as they were, there would always be a disconnect. Miles and miles of unspoken words, longing stares, and kisses that ended far too soon. Marinette would always see these at surface value, with nothing more to be discovered.

For Alya, Marinette was a warm bed after a long day, a warm cup of tea in a furious winter storm, a bright spot in an otherwise dull world. For Marinette, Alya was just a friend. A close, irreplaceable friend who she loved more than anything, but a friend nonetheless.

Alya would drift off to sleep with dreams of firsts with Marinette, while Marinette dreamt of another.

She was meant to be with Adrien, and Alya was meant to watch from afar, forever dreaming of a love from a girl that would never see her in that light.

End Notes- btw marinette totally likes her but repressed sapphic vibes, yknow? sorry they didnt end up together but if you want some resolution i have a fic where they are happy together that you can find here!

[deepperplexity]

Okay, couple of things I need to share.

First off, I hope your and your daughter's health are well! I know from experience the feeling of having a sick child, my 9 months son caught a cold recently and now we both are coughing and with sore throats. I hope you two are well now!

Second, I hate to see good writers being stressed out with deadlines or expectations both from themselves or from readers. Often enough that means the writer will burn out soon or go on hiatus, simply because they need to decompress, get a break and not to think about satisfying other people when don't have the muse, the time or the need to. I wanted to give you a friendly reminder to disconnect when needed and publish when feel it.

Also, HOLD UP!!! RICKMASS? ARE YOU FOR REAL?! I'm screaming right now. Not many writers write for Rickman himself, to be honest I haven't seen much if any here on tumblr. The first and only that comes to my mind is @rickmandowneyjr and she's brilliant!

I would be beyond happy to see you write something for Alan himself and a female reader. Its not a request, just a wish of mine. Whether you do it or not is up to you.

Okay, I have to already finish this because my son is getting fuzzy and I lost the track of my thoughts anyway.

Bye🧡 ( and more happy endings! 😄)

Hi darling! ❤ Yes our health is well, my daughter's cold is gone and she's her regular "full speed ahead can't sit still for a second" self 😅👍 It's just my cold that lingers ^^

Yeah, I know, I can feel that right now. so I'm trying to pace myself and make sure I don't hit a wall again. It's not worth it when I am finally able to work towards my life dream and goal. Unfortunately, I've noticed that if I miss a day of publishing then my interactions and readings dip by about 50% - every time. And it adds to the stress even though it shouldn't. I just feel like I'm letting you guys down, even though I publish on schedule most of the time and I don't know many huge series (like my Death's Judge series) that get's updated so often and regularly. Two times a week is a lot when a chapter is like 5-8k 😂

YES! I WILL BE DOING RICKMAS THIS YEAR! I don't think anyone has ever done it and I got the idea about two months ago to do that instead of Snapemas to give more ppl a chance to tag along since it would be all of Alan's characters and the man himself obviously. I've seen a lot of ppl write about Alan himself but that's not my thing. Characters I feel are up for grabs but and actual person I feel is too private and personal. I don't know, I wouldn't want anyone writing fics about me for example. So I won't be writing anything about Alan himself (sorry). ❤

I'm really grateful for your care darling, it means a lot to see your support like this. Thank you ❤❤❤ I hope you're doing well and all good things to you darling 🥰❤

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Of Ice and Blood

Part 2

Hello there! I present to you, part 2 of my orc x fem!human series!

I still don't know what to name this fic of mine

I should've thought about the title in the first place lmao

Anyways! I'll try updating constantly if I can. Enjoy reading!

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: Cursing, lots of cursing. Mild violence and mentions of injury.

UD 01/10/21 : CLEANED AND PROOFREAD PROPERLY (hey I did my best)

(reference to the mask she's currently wearing //her hair is still braided// )

*

Even with the tedious introduction the professor was on about, I couldn’t help but pick up the whispers of my human classmates, and the unmistakable nasty odor they were giving off.

“Hey. Look at that orc over there.”

“Tsk. Beast. Why is it even here—”

“I bet it’s gonna get suspended from breaking someone’s arm.”

“It looks like he’s gonna kill somebody soon.”

Snickers and clicks of disgust went around the group.

The professor shushed them, not quite knowing what they were talking about before he moved on.

I cursed, feeling my blood boil from their words. The orc wasn’t even doing anything! And they slander him like that? I would love to break their fucking ne—

No, damn it! No violence! Mama will go crazy if she finds out I broke someone’s spine. Behave and endure. Remember your training.

...but seriously though, I'm going to fucking snap their legs. Nah, perhaps use pepper spray on their eyes until they go blind, even though the mixture inside my spray bottle wasn’t made to have permanent effects on someone, but it would still cause great discomfort.

I hugged my backpack, the thought of my dusters inside somehow comforting.

I didn’t notice Tai'chi was taking glances at me out of concern while I was imagining how I’d smash those jerks’ faces.

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

My mind wandered around the interaction by the gates earlier, and how... contradicting... it was when I entered the building.

Everything passed like a blur as I continued daydreaming about other things, hardly paying attention to what everyone else was saying. Plus it takes a lot of concentration to survive their pungent scents.

A bell rang, bringing me back down to Earth. It was lunchtime already.

Everyone seemed relieved as they started filing out of the area and headed towards the cafeteria. [a/n: Ooh that rhymed] I failed to see the lingering glances of barely masked distaste in our direction.

I glanced at the or— Tai'chi, whom I found out was looking at me already, stunning me at how he stared for a moment before I broke eye contact and stood up, which he also did. I almost fell back down my chair when I scented him.

Wha—

How the fuck did I not smell him before?!

I must’ve focused too much on the awful odor surrounding me that it didn’t register this—

This, oh my God.

To describe it, it was simply so— manly (or is it Orcish?). Like the scent of fresh earth and the warmth of a fireplace in the midst of a cold night. Embers crackling and sending sparks up into the sky.

He doesn’t smell one trace of a beast at all! In fact, I’ve never smelled someone so clean, so pleasant, all the while exuding masculinity, and was that a tad hint of vanilla?

For the first time in a while, I couldn’t place what the feeling was exactly. He simply smells so— good. Which is a positive sign?

I looked up to his eyes once more before I blurted out, probably a little too high-pitched;

“Lunch?”

Seriously? That’s what comes out of your damn mouth?

“I mean, do you want to go grab some lunch? At the cafeteria?” I clarified to sound normal and unaffected, (even when I clearly am).

Was the last part necessary? You’ve broken noses, dealt painful blows like a skilled warrior, but you’re embarrassing yourself.

I was busy reprimanding myself that I nearly missed what he said.

"Sure.”

He straightened up, and I was then faced with the reality of how damn tall he is. Or is it because I’m short? I barely reached over 5 feet, and he is standing there, almost three heads taller than me. Was he hunching for my sake earlier?

Wowie…

I scented a hint of pride, and was that a small quirk of his lips for a second there?

Huh. My mask is a lifesaver, or else he would've seen my jaw dropping.

I followed him out and headed straight for the campus’ cafeteria, all the while trying to converse here and there.

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

'Trying’ was not the right word.

Definitely not.

It was surprising, how easy and nice it was to talk to him. I could scent his apprehensiveness when I talked to him at first, but he relaxed not long after I introduced myself properly.

It felt... natural.

I learned that he came from the Northside of the country and moved to the city last year to pursue his dreams and to find a better future for his clan. I also told him about my family and home, along with my reasons for being here, leaving out the… violent part.

“My family and my entire clan wanted the best for me and my brothers. Up in the North, education is… very limited. Although ever since we were young, we were taught everything from our clan’s history, how to hunt for food, what herbs and plants were poisonous, what were medicinal and edible, how to stay alive, survive and so on.”

He paused for a moment before continuing.

“But we were cut off from the modern world. Times are changing, fast. Global warming being a major problem, leaving a huge impact on our living. So, when my clan heard about a school in the city, open to all races, they turned to us, the youth, and we took this chance.”

I looked down and thought about how disconnected the others were, only given the freedom to modern society eight years ago. Eight years is a long time, but I guess it’ll take more than that for everyone to get used to the change. That doesn’t mean they should treat them poorly!

As I realized I’ve been quiet for a while, I shot up and apologized for not replying.

“No, it’s okay. You looked like you were in deep thought. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Y-yeah… I was—”

“Thinking about how the majority of the human race still see us as beasts?”

There was a bit of spite in his voice, although barely noticeable. Or was it because I caught a whiff of it? No one was paying much attention to us while we were walking. But I noticed many of them hastily stepping aside and felt their glares at my back.

“How did you know?” I asked, curious.

“I could tell from your- I could tell, from the way you frowned earlier when one of those humans said something.”

Oh. He was looking at me that time?

“Frowned? But my mask—”

“It’s easy to tell if you are frowning when your eyebrows scrunch up like that. Believe me, my father does that a lot.”

“Ah. Well. It was just very rude of them. To talk shit about you and your kind like that, as if they were any better. You weren’t even doing anything, and they judge you based on your race. Orcs are civilized and intelligent just like any other, and I don’t understand why there’s still so much prejudice after eight damn years—”

I stopped and restrained the urge to go wild and curse every single human who smelled so foul every time we pass by.

“Sorry. I was...rambling.”

Was I this talkative? Maybe it's because I never had anyone to talk to.

He didn’t reply, which I found strange, so I glanced over at him and saw his eyes wide open and brows shooting up in surprise. It was almost comical.

“Uh, Tai'chi?”

Before he could even utter a word, we arrived at a huge hall where students were chatting and enjoying their lunch. Still, I noticed some humans were giving unkind looks to a gathering of goblins eating at the far left side corner of the cafeteria.

And of course, I didn’t fail to smell that wretched odor coming from a group of girls on my right when we walked in. I also recognized the one who pushed me, (No doubt it was intentional). I had to pinch my nose over my mask just but I could only block out half of it.

Ah shit, this mask doesn’t have proper air filtration.

I groaned as I tried to cut off the noise and thickened scents. For real, I wasn’t expecting it to be this harsh! I could literally smell discrimination and hate in the air!

Fuck. I should’ve worn my other mask. I swear I’m gonna burst if I stay and inhale more of that any longer—

“Pearl, are you okay?”

I groaned again and didn’t reply, busy controlling my sense of smell to even open my mouth. We were standing there like a pair of street posts, blocking a small part of the main entrance. That is if there was a 5ft- tall post. I’m more like that foldable caution sign.

“Pearl—”

“Hey, you there! Freaks! Move out of the way.”

Great. Another awful fucking odor. And what a coincidence! It was the one I smelled this morning!

“Are you deaf? I said—”

He shouldn’t have grabbed my shoulder, shouldn’t have tried to shove me aside, for the second I felt his hand reaching for me, and before Tai'chi could pull me away, my reflexes kicked in.

What did I do exactly? Oh, I simply grabbed that damned arm of his, threw him over my shoulder, and slammed him down on the tiled floor in front of me, finishing a one-arm shoulder throw.

The people in the area halted what they were doing and a short-lived silence came over, broken by whispers.

So much for keeping a low profile.

The guy I just performed basic self-defense on was spitting curse words at me. He was still on the floor, trying not to voice the pain in his back.

“Freak! You’re a monster, aren’t you?! How dare you do this to me. Don't you know who I am?!" he yelled.

Did he mean me or? Either way, what he said was not true.

I tried to calm my anger down and gave him a forced smile, under my mask, and mustered up the voice and tone I always used when I’m annoyed.

But right now, I am pissed.

“Now, dear, fellow, human, what you said was clearly untrue. I am entirely human and this person beside me is an orc. Or were you blinded by your overgrown ego and disgusting attitude to see the obvious in front of you? Surely that must be it. The entrance to the cafeteria is wide enough for two people to not serve as a hindrance to the ones coming in, but still, you chose to try and shove me aside yourself. Well, I won’t apologize but I’ve had enough pushing for one day. And lastly, no, I do not know you and I don’t care.”

I gritted my teeth, my face hurting from smiling forcefully. The cafeteria was quite silent enough all the while and no doubt they heard every word I said.

Fuck.

I twisted around and bolted out of the building.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! I blew it! Fucking blew my chance to have a normal college life! Now everyone will think I’m some crazy person and would, without a doubt, avoid me forever.

I was too busy cursing and walking away, planning to hide in a hole for all eternity that I didn’t feel the presence of someone following me.

Without thinking much of where I was heading, my feet led me to a secluded part of the uni. Tall trees lining up before and around me looking like an entrance to a forest, and so I tried hiding behind one. Hoping that the guards wouldn’t notice and detain me or something.

I sat down between the great roots of an oak tree and rested my head on top of my knees as I took deep breaths and listened.

Nature always had a place in my heart. How could it not? When you can hear the chirps of little birds, the soothing sound of leaves rustled by the wind. And the peace that comes with it all.

Not to mention it smells so relaxing.

“Hello there.”

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

Haha! What will Pearl do next I wonder, and who is this person who followed her??

Had to cut it off at that part because my dearest self just loves cliff hangers—

And because I wanted to post something as soon as possible.

Hope you enjoyed! I will be working on the third part asap.

Tags: @kokokatsworld @crackinanutshell

[emerald-amidst-gold]

18 19 20 27 28 from the protag questions <3

Ooooo! Lots of goodies! o3o You all spoil me~! X3

Thank you so much! Let's get into it! >:D

18. What is the biggest similarity between your protagonists?

Grey morality. PFFFFT!

I'm serious. I have a habit of creating characters that have questionable methods to situations, but yet can be empathized with or even sympathized with. Fane, Rylen, and Elise all do what they have to do, and it's up to the audience to formulate whether or not they agree or disagree with their personalities and actions.

I'll say this once because I've had people in the past kind of...bash me for it, but just because your character has a specific view does not necessarily mean you as the creator share that same view. That isn't me throwing swings out at self-inserts or characters that are reflections of their creators, this is just how I feel in response to my own characters. I try to disconnect from my characters because I want them to be their own. I build the foundation, give them a name, a history, or a family to influence them, but I don't steer their minds, their decisions. They flow the way they want to flow. Simple as that. Fane is the OC that is most reflective of me, but not with everything. He has his own methods, own reasons for thinking the way that he does and so do I.

I think it has a lot of my fixation on making characters teeter has to do with how I interact with the world in real life. I just...don't see black and white. I give everything the benefit of the doubt and I hold my ground concerning my views even if others might see them as 'wrong' or 'controversial'. I'm horribly analytical and I'm always like, 'But what if...'. That's just...me. XD

But yeah! Grey characters are my vice and I'm not sure if I'm doing it right most of the time, but I try! :3

19. What is the biggest difference between your protagonists?

Mainly how they approach situations and their feelings surrounding leadership.

Fane is rash, doesn't plan, doesn't think everything through before acting or he just outright chooses not to. He tends to make decisions on his own, but mainly only in battle. In more diplomatic settings, Fane is the master of deferral. XD He divvies out tasks that he feels aren't his area from either a lack of interest, a lack of confidence in himself, or just feeling that someone else would be the better option.

Rylen has his moments of brashness, but he's pretty subdued, go with the flow type of deal, but most who know him intimately know he's pretty high strung when it comes to matters where his voice has power. Man's a ball of stress and anxiety. PFFT!

Elise is the calmest out of the three. It was practically trained into her in the Circle. She's also just inherently docile, but after the Blight she does have moments of being feral and unhinged. That mostly happens if one of her companions are in danger or if her own life is threatened. She's not afraid to make her voice heard, either. Generally, Elise is soft spoken, but she will stand up for herself and other people, despite the grief it could cause her.

20. Who handles responsibility the best? And who handles it the worst?

If Fane puts his mind to it, he can handle responsibility pretty well. His want to involve himself deeply in matters doesn't happen until after Adamant and only gets stronger and stronger after Trespasser. Fane is a force when he wants to be and Solas tries to draw that out, to make him realize he can do whatever he puts his mind to. However, Elise would be the best in terms of responsibility. She had a lot in the Circle, even more during the Blight, and a substantial amount as Warden-Commander. Does she wish she could rest? Of course! But she doesn't complain because she knows she can make change. Rylen's okay with responsibility; he becomes Viscount after all. But, he is prone to slacking off at times, but really only after the Chantry explosion. The guy is TIRED. What can I say? XD

All in all, none of them bad at handling responsibility. They just have different ways that they go about it! :D

27. What would their fears on the graves in the fade during Here Lies The Abyss be?

Yes, yes, yes, YES! The question! The big question! The question that leads to Fane and Solas' first kiss! AHAHAHAH! >:D

Elise - Betrayal. This is more in terms of Elise towards herself and her own actions. She's afraid that everything she's ever done has been one great betrayal to everyone and everything she has ever cared about. She had no choice but to witness Jowan become Tranquil, Alistair, so hurt and angered by her decision at the Landsmeet, abandoned her to face the possibility of the death alone, her faith was sundered after the Broken Circle, making her fear her magic for the first time in her life and making her wonder when she would become the very monsters she had just finished killing. The list goes on. Elise made so many decisions in service to the world, but she silently wonders when it'll all come crashing down around her, when everyone will leave her because they'd been betrayed.

Rylen - Wasn't enough. Rylen wrestles constantly with the fact that he's never been strong enough. He wasn't strong enough for Carver; the ogre ripping him from their family and pounding into pulp. He wasn't strong enough for Bethany; unable to protect her from the templars, so he opted to take her to the Deep Roads, thinking it would be safer, but it wasn't. He wasn't strong enough for his mother; his eyes focused on the horizon rather than the ground that began it all.

And he hadn't been strong enough to end Corypheus for good. We all know what happened wasn't Hawke's fault, but Rylen the master of blaming himself for everything, so that's one event he dwells about every. day. every. night.

Last, but not least, FANE. *sounds the horns* You ready? You ready?! >:D

Fane - To be forgotten. That's right.

That's Fane's biggest, deepest fear; to be forgotten. I know there's only been a few chapters of my main fic that kind of reference this, but you know how Fane constantly says to himself, 'I wish I could be forgotten. It would be better if I would just disappear and be forgotten.'? Yeah, it's a front. He's trying to convince himself that that's what he wants, but in actuality, it's reversed. He's terrified, terrified of being forgotten by the world, by his sister, by the Inquisition...

...by Solas. That's the worst person who could forget Fane. And around the time of Adamant, Solas and Fane being the stubborn fools that they are, act as if they haven't known each other for fucking centuries even though the truth literally screamed at them after Haven. They were lost together in the mountains with that truth hanging between them, and still they ignored it because it hurt and they both felt they didn't deserve the hope that they could be together. Fane attempts to unearth some lost memories, some lingering feelings, but Solas wasn't ready and guided them away from that unopened bag, refusing to let Fane in on his agenda or allowing him to help in any way. It gets to a point where Fane starts to believe Solas doesn't actually recall their relationship, who he is and he spirals pretty bad in the Raw Fade when that tombstone is glaring at him.

When Solas sees it...he cracks. Quietly, in his mind, but he realizes how stupid he'd been, how stupid they had been. The truth was looking at him in two tones and he ignored it out of fear. It's what spurs Solas to take Fane into the Fade and show his dragon the place where he had endeavored to make sure the other would never be forgotten. Solas also makes it clear that he had never forgot Fane, ever.

"I could never forget you, my dragon. Your memory lingered within the halls of my mind even as I slumbered. I am but a fool, a fearful fool. I thought it kinder to let you live a new life, unburdened by my burdens. I do not wish for the past to repeat itself, to see two tones ebb away and breath leave your lungs once more.", Solas said, eyes downcast, pained grimace housing sorrow, grief, and despair in its curves. "...But, it is not kinder. It is more agonizing to try and forget than it is to remember. Though, I have never tried to erase you from my memory nor have I tried to abandon what I felt for you--what I feel for you.'

Fane frowned, tugging on the mage's forearms to bring him closer, urgently, but timidly; Solas didn't even protest, but his eyes remained downcast. "What do you feel, Solas?", he asked and received no answer. "What do you feel, Solas?! What can't you forget?!", he repeated, voice echoing off the halls of death and remembrance. He needed these words, he needed to know!

What did the sky feel?! What did it remember?! He just wanted one damned answer in this upside down world!

Solas' eyes shut slowly, chest rising with a deep inhale. "I..", he started, but paused again, face twitching with hesitance and reservation. "No, it's not--!"

Fane growled low. "Enough! If you won't tell me,", he barked, yanking Solas forward by his arms, barely registering the grunt of surprise that left his lips, and shot his hands up to hold a bewildered face. "...then show me!"

I tease~ >:3

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28. What is their favourite location within their own game and what would be their favourite in each others?

I answered this ooooonnnneee HERE! >:D (I would just copy and paste, but it LONG. ADHDKS)

And there we have it! Beautiful! Perfect! And FUN! X3