#the only thing i actually do like about her or just find interesting is the apple of eden theme she’s got

[sugar--brown]

Oh look! Another occasion to babbles about the mechs!

The story Out is terrible for me hard to read (hate sad ending) but soooo interesting. So here's three thoughts (aka fanfiction ideas) I have about it!

First one: How Aurora works. Not like... how mechanically she works or how a moon/ship can have blood and teeth. But in a way of: how did she "transitionned" (I don't have a better word in my vocabulary) from organic moon to metallic ship.

How does it feel? How do your conscious work? Is opening a door, changing the temperature, activating reactors, the same thing as flexing a finger for us?

My idea is Aurora could be compared as a mecha, but she had fused with it. The mecha became part of her body in a way. She has her own conscious, she can control everything aboard, but not in a God way. More like she was sitting in a room surrounded by screen, computers, buttons and switches. Metaphorically of course.

Over the centuries, she became really good at keeping an eye at all the screens. At managing all the buttons and switches. At making quick researchs on the computers.

But she's still one concious forced to fuse with a machine she is foreign to. She can't focus on all the screens at once, she can't activates all buttons and switches, and she can’t make infinite researches at the same time.

So. It means that on the outside, Aurora is not organic. She's a machine. A machine that can be fixed, repaired, changed, and put new programs in.

But it also means that fundamentally, she is organic. She is messy like the beings Nastya doesn't like (cf gender rebels). She can break up with her. She can choose to go save a mortal if she wants to. She is still the little moon Carmilla raised.

Nastya's ability to consider relationship with machines to the same level of telationship with organic beings is a true blessing for her. Because she is stuck in this weird inbetween of considering herself like an organic beings, but being seen as a machine by everyone around her. The mechs included. Except Nastya, who doesn't care if she is a machine: she loves Aurora.

That brought us to the second thought: Nastya actually cares. Deeply. Too much.

Like we know, Nastya finds organic beings messy and unpredictable. And like OP said, Nastya grew up in a world where machines is more familiar than anything else for her.

I think for a long time, Nastya pretended that Aurora is purely a machine. She talks about improving her ai, she calls her "the aurora, our starship", and never corrects anyone on that fact.

She lashes on her because Aurora was familiar, safe, and honestly between murderous Jonny, vampire Carmilla, and starship Aurora, she was the most capable of understanding toward Nastya.

But Aurora wasn't cyberian. In fact, cyberians were her abusers. So, even if she loves Nastya dearly and will never totally go back to her moon-self, it's understandable that she tries to get back what had been stripped off her. Her autonomy, her independance, her sense of self. First by acting like organic being with Nastya (cf break up), then my making choices by herself (saving Briar Rose) and finally by replacing cyberian on her.

And Nastya cares. She cares about that cyberian part. Way more than Aurora anticipated. Because for Nastya, that was the start of her relationship with Aurora. That was what made her safe, familiar, and understanding. That was what made her home for Nastya.

So, when there was only a line of cyberian numbers left... Nastya went out. Because Aurora wasn't familiar anymore.

And this is my final point: Nastya's problem has nothing to do with Aurora. Aurora is just a symptom.

Nastya deeply fear challenges and changements.

Think about it. She grew up in a false utopy, then violently murdered by someone she trusted, and brought back to life by a vampire scientist and her weird violent son. That's a lot of changes. Too much for a young reclused princess.

This is the root of Nastya's traumas. In an instant, all she knew was destroyed. And all because of messy and organic beings. All was good, until at the first problem everything comes crashing down forever.

I doubt she talked about it to anyone. Jonny seems genuinely surprised by her departure, having no idea she felt this bad to the point of not coming back forever.

Aurora was just the last straw. The last rampart between Nastya and the problems she ran away all of her immortal life. Aurora was the last illusion of something which is safe and will never ever change no matter what. Something which she could hold on to without fearing treason.

So, when Aurora did the only thing that Nastya fears - changing - she snaps. A lot of things could have brought up her trauma in a way she couldn't had been able to ignore. But the fact that it was the love of her life who made her snap pushed her to do something irrational.

Not in the panic. I mean, she saw Aurora changed over the milleniums. And Aurora seems more surprised like it was new than angry to have the same argument again.

Nastya had ruminated alone her traumas, mistrust, and fear of challenges, changes, and organic beings so much that she went Out.

Not because of Aurora, but because Nastya had never been fine in the first place.

It's no wonder Out happened when you really think about it. Nastya doesn't like organic life because it's complicated, it can break, sometimes it's even unfixable.

quote from gender rebels

Nastya is in love with Aurora, and in saying that she is saying "you are not organic life, I can deal with you because you are metal and algorithm and predictable" - we can see this in bedtime story when she says she'll tweak Aurora's story creation algorithm

screenshot from A Bedtime Story

Aurora is not inorganic. She is not ai. She is a space moon made of flesh and blood and teeth and bone. She is not an ai. She is a body that was taken and stripped of autonomy, of the right to self identify, of the right to think- to be imperfect and organic.

The metal is a veneer that hides how messy and traumatized and unfixable she is. From the outside she is a starship. From the inside she can still bleed.

And this makes them fundamentally incompatible. But yet, they are in love.

And really, it's no wonder Nastya fell in love with Aurora. Let's take a look at Nastya's home planet, or at least home society:

"Terminals were scattered across the planet. There was one on every street corner, one beneath every lamppost and one in every commune block." "The midwife-machine performs a series of programmed manœuvres to quieten [the baby]. It cradles it and hums at several pitches until it finds one that seems most soothing. Mechanical arms stroke the baby’s flesh even as others start the process of implanting augmented reality interfaces into its nervous system." "The Czar an atrophied frame, never present in the real world and worn to dust by the chemical compounds that kept his brain alive so it could live forever in a perfect virtual paradise. The Rabotnik a copy, a mind preserved unchanging in the instant before its death and placed in an everlasting metal frame." (Cyberian Demons)

Its safe to say the world Nastya was born into, from the very minute she was born, was ridden with technology. She has augmented reality interfaces inplanted into her from birth. It would stand to reason that being taken from this society, wherein technology is everywhere, inside and out, would stand for a bit of a shock.

Aurora too had been augmented by the Cyberia.

While it is stated that the last time Nastya had used the ports themselves was directly before her death — "The last time she had used the ports, her tutor had ripped them out of her as the rebels stormed the palace" — Aurora is laced with Cyberian technology. I'd imagine she has something of a 'bluetooth wireless connection' with Aurora, rather than the physical data transfer of files between the ports and Nastya, it may as well be similar enough.

Imagine being Nastya, going from Cyberia, wherein there is augmented reality contantly, transplanted onto a ship with metal blood, a jonny, and a vampire. To Aurora, where the only bits of augmented reality run through Aurora.

Of course she'd fall in love with her. Aurora is familiarity. Aurora isn't organic. Aurora isn't human.

And of course when the undeniable part of aurora that is organic, that is a flesh moon plated in metal with her brain hooked to machines, when so much has broken and been replaced, when, presumably, aurora is less of an algorithm, nastya leaves with the brand cyberia left on her.

Because Aurora healing, becoming more of herself and less of a starship, is messy, and organic, and human.

and hard for nastya.

‘Think how long she’s been flying you around. Think how many bullet holes you’ve punched through her and how many atmospheres you’ve dropped her through. Think how many alterations and improvements we’ve made, Tim to her guns and Ashes to her storage and Brian to her engines and the Toy Soldier to who knows what. How much do you think is left of her after all she’s brought you through?’ Nastya held up the ancient, battered piece of hull plating. Just visible under the grime and scars of particles of space junk was a fragment of the Aurora’s original logo and serial number. Jonny honestly couldn’t remember the last time he had seen a version that hadn’t been painted by the Mechanisms themselves. ‘So she’s free, now.’ Nastya gestured around at the spaceship they were standing in. ‘This Aurora can take you where you want to go. I’m going to take my Aurora somewhere else.’

Aurora was ship of theseus'd. Aurora was improved. Aurora was no longer cyberian. (both literally, and metaphorically)

So nastya left.

[passengerprincessblog]

“Lewis, Next Door”~ pt 1 Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warning: age gap, alcohol?

Summary: Coming home from university, Y/N expects a quiet reunion with family—until she finds herself face-to-face with the enigmatic Lewis Hamilton, her dad’s famous neighbor and friend. What starts as a dull evening soon turns unexpectedly electric when Lewis offers more than just small talk.

I hadn’t been home all semester. Between studying, late-night group projects, and the occasional breakdown, the past few months at uni had been… a lot. I’d pushed through, and even though I’d missed my parents, there was something about finishing this term that made me feel a little invincible. I was finally here, though, bags slung over my shoulder as I hugged my mom in the doorway and let my dad ruffle my hair in that way he always did.

Home sweet home.

After the greetings and settling in, I noticed someone else was around. Our neighbor, Lewis Hamilton, was back too. Usually, he was off racing, so it was a rare sight. I wasn’t someone who followed F1 religiously, but I knew Lewis was a big deal—and the whole “dad’s friend” thing only made it more surreal. The few times we’d run into each other, I’d been struck by how effortlessly confident he was. Attractive? Absolutely. Intimidating? Without a doubt. But, honestly, I’d never thought much beyond that. He was just Lewis, the neighbor.

That night, my dad was throwing a big party to celebrate his latest product launch. Fancy guests, fancy decorations, fancy everything—the whole nine yards. I’d barely unpacked, and here I was, getting ready to play dress-up and smile politely for a parade of strangers. My friends were out clubbing tonight, living it up, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy. But I loved my dad, so here I was, hair styled, makeup on point, feeling like I’d stepped into someone else’s life for the night.

As the party got into full swing, I did my best to stay interested, though I kept glancing at my phone, imagining my friends dancing somewhere with loud music and neon lights. Instead, I was here, weaving through clusters of my dad’s colleagues. He was chatting with a group of important-looking men, so I took my chance and approached him, feeling like a little kid again as I asked, “Can I please just have one drink?”

He shot me a disapproving look. “No. You know the answer.”

“Fine,” I muttered, trying not to let my frustration show. I wandered around a bit, catching snippets of adult conversation that were all about business deals and tax write-offs. Glamorous.

Finally, I spotted a lonely champagne glass on a table. I glanced around, and with a little thrill of rebellion, I picked it up, taking a sip. It was cold and crisp, and even though I’d never been a huge fan of champagne, it felt like a tiny slice of freedom. A few more sips, and I was actually starting to relax.

That’s when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned, and there he was—Lewis, giving me a knowing smile.

“I see you like my drink?” he teased, eyes glinting with amusement.

My stomach dropped. Oh god, I’d taken his champagne? “Oh my god. I’m so sorry… I didn’t know… I can get you a new one if you want, I just—”

He chuckled, shaking his head. His laugh was low and warm, and something about it made me relax, just a bit. “Nah, I’m messing with you. It’s fine. I don’t even really drink anyways.” He grinned, flashing a glimpse of a gold grill that made him look both mischievous and effortless, a vibe that seemed distinctly Lewis.

I managed a shy nod, suddenly unsure of what to do with my hands. “Oh… good. Thanks.” I couldn’t believe I was so nervous. But he just kept looking at me, his gaze both curious and relaxed.

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “You bored? I’m so bored. No offense to your dad, of course.”

I let out a laugh, surprised at how blunt he was. “It’s boring,” I admitted, feeling a little guilty, but somehow knowing he understood. He had this whole wild, glamorous life, and a party like this was probably as dull as watching paint dry for him.

“So, what? You’re back from uni, huh? That’s crazy. I remember when you were like, ten,” he says, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

I feel my cheeks heat up with a pang of embarrassment. Here I was, feeling all cool and grown up, and he still saw me as a kid. Great.

“Yep,” I reply, trying to keep my tone light but failing to hide the faint annoyance.

“Well, you’re better than me,” he shrugs. “I never finished school.” I glance at him, surprised he’s trying to keep this conversation going. Usually, we barely exchanged two words, and now, here we were, alone, talking like… friends? Something more? I didn’t know.

“Well… yeah, but you’re a millionaire,” I say, trying to sound casual, though there’s a little hint of playfulness in my voice. I’m not exactly flirting, but maybe a little. Just testing the waters.

He raises an eyebrow, smiling at me but seeming almost uncomfortable at the mention of his money. He shrugs again. “You’re not exactly struggling either,” he teases back.

Was… that a flirt? Or was I just imagining it? It’s just the way he said it, the way his gaze lingers a moment longer than it should. My pulse quickens, but I try to play it cool.

“No… not exactly,” I say, catching his hint and matching his tone. I glance around, making a point about how dull this party is. “Just right now.”

He chuckles, and there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Maybe next time, you come to one of my parties,” he says. It sounds more like a command than an invitation, like he’s decided I’ll be there.

I nod softly, trying to hide the thrill in my expression. He’s really inviting me? He seems amused, almost as if my reaction is endearing.

“Yeah, maybe,” I say with a slight shrug, finishing off the champagne. I feel his eyes on me, and when I look up, he’s studying me, like he’s considering something.

Then he breaks into a grin. “I could give you my number,” he says, casual but direct.

I raise an eyebrow, trying to mask the excitement bubbling up. “Oh?”

“So you can tell me next time you’re bored,” he adds, giving me a cheeky wink.

I feel my cheeks flush as I pull out my phone. He takes it from me, putting his number in. My hands are shaking just a bit when he hands it back.

“There,” he says with that familiar grin. “Now you’ll be set.”

“Cool. Thanks,” I say, somehow managing to keep my voice steady. Inside, though, I feel my heart racing.

He glances back at the party, then back at me, giving me one last wink. “I should probably go talk to your dad. See you around, Y/N.”

And then he’s gone, leaving me standing there, still holding the empty champagne glass, my mind spinning. His number. His number. A part of me feels like I’m floating.

———————————

Oo La La 🙈

Lmk of you like?!!??

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[nemo-writes]

𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖿 141 + 𝗏𝖺𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗋𝗈𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖼𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗌 ; 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝗈 ── .✦

── .✦ 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗉 ; "𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗉𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝖺𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗉𝗎𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇."

It’s day three of bed rest, and Soap’s already climbed up the walls of his room and back down again. Injured or not, he’s never been one to sit still, and being restricted to the base with “no hard jobs, no missions”—as the medic had stressed—has left him itching for something to do. Restless, he decides to wander, eventually finding himself at the library-slash-records room, a quiet corner of base he’s never thought to visit before.

He thumbs through a book on the nearest shelf, flipping pages more out of boredom than actual interest, when a voice behind him makes him nearly jump out of his skin.

“Good choice,” you say casually, glancing over his shoulder at the book in his hands. “I read that one when I was a teenager.”

Soap whips around, wide-eyed and ready to defend himself before he registers you standing there, a bemused smile on your face. It’s not often anyone manages to sneak up on him, especially after working alongside Ghost—but here you are, quiet as a shadow.

“Christ, you gave me a fright!” He laughs, trying to shake off his surprise. “You a ghost yourself, or just a natural sneak?”

“Neither,” you reply with a shrug. “I just work here. Records department.”

He raises an eyebrow, tilting his head with a hint of scepticism. “Records, aye? Right, sure. So… what squad d��you belong to, then?”

You laugh, not seeming to mind his incredulity. “No squad. No task force, either. Just a regular base staff member. I make sure all your physical files stay organised, is all.”

“Well, I didn't expect to find a hidden gem like you in here,” he says, putting on his usual flirty grin, expecting some kind of blush or maybe even a shy look.

But you just give another amused smile. “I’m not a gem, just the records keeper. I also stock the books,” you add, gesturing around. “Figured a small library might be good for those interested. We don’t have much, but it’s a nice change of pace for some people.”

The flirting sails right over your head, and Soap’s grin falters ever so slightly before he recovers. “Ah, so you're the one to thank for this wee slice of quiet paradise on base, huh?”

You nod, a touch of pride slipping through as you straighten a few already-tidy books. “It’s simple, but I like to keep things in order here for whoever wants to pick up something to read.”

Soap tries another grin, leaning against a shelf, his tone softening just a bit. “Well, reckon I’ll be a regular if it means more chats like this. Seems like a fair deal, yeah?”

But you only hum thoughtfully, eyes scanning the shelf beside him, clearly cataloguing if anything’s out of place. Soap finds himself smirking, both amused and oddly challenged by how thoroughly you’ve ignored his attempts to charm you. He realises with a quiet laugh that this just might be the break he needed.

. . .

In the quiet of his quarters, Soap lounges on his bunk with the phone pressed to his ear, listening to his mum and sister talk about his childhood. It had started with the usual check-in—hearing how he was healing, how things were on base—and soon drifted into familiar family banter.

His sister, Cait, laughs as she recalls his ‘miraculous’ ability to get hurt every other day growing up. “Remember when you broke both your arms jumping off that shed roof, John?” she teases, barely stifling her laughter. “Mum had to practically wrap you in bubble wrap.”

“Aye, aye, laugh it up,” Soap mutters, though he’s grinning. “Was tryin’ to perfect my landing, is all.”

His mum’s voice chimes in with a fond chuckle, “Perfect it you did, son. Broke both arms and had us all in stitches—not just ���cause of the casts, but because you couldn’t stop fidgeting.”

“Oh, I remember,” he groans, recalling the itch of the casts and the boredom of sitting still for weeks. “I was goin’ mad with nothing to do!”

“That’s why I read to you,” his mum adds, the warmth in her voice audible even over the line. “You were always restless, even with two arms in casts.”

Soap’s grin turns a bit softer. “I remember that… just not the book itself. Somethin’ about a fox and a forest?”

His mum hums thoughtfully. “It was a sweet story, but I can’t recall the title. Do you, Cait?”

Cait only chuckles, clearly drawing a blank. “Oh, I remember the fuss he made, but the book? Not a chance.”

Soap shakes his head, feeling a little pang of nostalgia. “Wouldn’t mind findin’ it again someday. Reminds me of home.”

A few days later, Soap strides through the hallway, his arm still snug in a sling but his energy undeterred. He greets everyone he passes, effortlessly drawing smiles and laughter from a few soldiers standing by the vending machines. A corporal waves, and Soap flashes him a quick grin, offering a joking salute with his free hand. 

But today, he’s not here to soak up the attention. His steps have purpose, carrying him straight back to the quiet sanctuary of the records room. When he steps inside, the calm hits him like a breath of fresh air. His eyes land on you instantly, tucked in the back of the room, your head bent over something on the desk.

You’re focused, scribbling notes or reading from a thick stack of papers, and for a moment, Soap just watches. There’s something about the way the light catches on your face, the peaceful concentration you exude. He doesn’t even realise he’s smiling until his cheeks ache slightly. He adjusts his posture and clears his throat, strolling over casually, pretending not to notice the way his pulse picks up just a bit.

“Hey, there,” he says, his voice breaking the quiet like a soft ripple on a still pond. You glance up, blinking at the interruption, and he swears there’s a flicker of recognition in your gaze that makes his chest tighten.

“Back again?” you tease lightly, setting your pen down. “Getting into trouble already?”

“Nah, just takin’ it easy,” he says, his tone breezy. “Needed a break from bein’ so popular, y’know? The fans are relentless.” He winks, and you roll your eyes, though there’s a smile tugging at your lips.

He shifts slightly, leaning his good arm against the edge of the desk. “Actually, I was hopin’ you might be able to help me with somethin’. Feels a bit daft, but here goes.” He scratches the back of his neck, suddenly feeling the weight of how silly this might sound. “There’s this book. From when I was a kid. My Ma read it to me when I broke both arms once—don’t ask,” he adds quickly, grinning sheepishly. “But I can’t remember the title. Just bits of it.”

That piques your interest. You sit up a little straighter, curiosity lighting up your features. “What do you remember about it?” you ask, your tone genuinely warm.

Soap exhales, relieved you haven’t laughed him off, and starts piecing it together. “Right, so it was about this fox. A scrappy wee thing, always gettin’ into trouble. Lived in a forest, sneakin’ around like it owned the place. There was… a badger, I think? Big, grumpy fella, always tellin’ the fox to stop bein’ reckless. But the fox didn’t listen—bit of a troublemaker, that one.”

You nod, your attention fixed on him, and it spurs him on. “One part I remember clear as day—there was a trap. The fox got its paw caught, and I thought it was done for. Had my heart in my throat. My Ma kept tellin’ me it’d be fine, but I was sweatin’ over it.” He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck as if to brush off the emotion. “Then there was somethin’ about the forest gettin’ destroyed, so the fox had to leave. Find a new home, y’know?”

You lean forward slightly, completely drawn in, and it makes his pulse quicken. “That sounds… really sweet, actually. And a little sad.”

“Aye, it was,” he says, his voice softer now. “Hit me like a brick back then. Think I might’ve cried—don’t tell anyone that,” he adds quickly, wagging a finger with mock severity.

Your smile widens. “I wouldn’t dream of it. But… you’re describing it so vividly. I might know it. Hang on.” You tap your chin thoughtfully, sorting through your mental catalog of titles. Soap watches you closely, his expression softening as you mentally sift through the possibilities. After a moment, you shake your head, regret flashing in your eyes. “I think I know the book, but I don’t have it here. Sorry.”

Soap raises his brows, clearly impressed. “You’ve got a memory like a steel trap, lass. How d’you even keep track of all that?”

You wave him off modestly, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “It’s nothing, really. I just like books. Spend enough time with them, and you start remembering the little details.”

“Still,” you say, your tone tinged with determination. “I’ll keep an eye out. If it crosses my path, I’ll make sure you’re the first to know.”

Soap’s grin widens, his eyes crinkling in that way that makes it hard to look away. “Aye, I’ll hold you to that.” His voice softens, and for a moment, there’s a quiet warmth between you that neither of you rush to fill.

“Thanks,” he says finally, the sincerity in his tone catching you slightly off guard. “You’re good company, y’know that?”

Before you can reply, he pushes off the desk with his good arm, the playful edge returning to his expression as he gives you a wink. “Don’t let me distract you too much, aye? I’ll see myself out.”

You manage a small laugh, watching as he makes his way toward the door, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in his wake. But just as he steps into the hallway, he pauses, glancing back through the open door.

For a brief second, his gaze softens, the memory of the fox, his Ma’s soothing voice, and the quiet comfort of your little nook weaving together to warm a part of him he hadn’t realised needed it. With a nod to himself, he turns away, the thought of returning already forming in the back of his mind.

. . .

The cafeteria buzzed with the usual hum of conversation and clatter of trays. Soap, now out of his sling and feeling like himself again, sat among Gaz, Ghost, and a few others from the base, his laughter loud and infectious as they swapped stories and teased one another. His attention was fully on Gaz’s exaggerated recounting of a drill mishap when Ghost’s gravelly voice cut through the din.

“Oi, Johnny. Little mouse headed this way.”

Soap blinked, confused, until Ghost gave a subtle nod toward the figure approaching from behind. Soap twisted around, and his breath hitched the moment he spotted you.

Springing to his feet far too quickly, Soap’s knee hit the table with a loud clang, trays rattling dangerously. The others shouted half-hearted complaints, but Soap didn’t care. All his attention was on you, standing there with a paper bag in hand, a shy smile gracing your lips.

“I—uh—hi,” Soap stammered, suddenly unsure of himself as you held the bag out toward him.

“I found it,” you said simply, your tone giddy. “Thought you might like to have it.”

He stared at the bag, then at you, before carefully taking it from your hands. His fingers brushed yours briefly, and he swore he felt a spark. Peeking inside, his jaw dropped. There it was—the book. The cover was pristine, like it had just been pulled from a bookstore shelf.

“You didn’t…” he began, but words failed him. His gaze flicked between the book and your face, awe written plainly across his features.

You chuckled softly, patting the hand that held the book. “It’s no big deal. Enjoy it, yeah?”

And with that, you turned and walked away, leaving Soap frozen in place. He watched you go, only snapping out of his trance when Gaz whistled low under his breath. Soap turned back to the table, clutching the bag as if it held a treasure.

Seated back at the table, the book resting carefully in his lap, he barely touched his food, his usual chatter replaced by a soft, distracted smile. He flipped the book over in his hands, running his thumb along the edges of the paper bag, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

“Someone’s got a fan,” Gaz teased, grinning.

“Shut it,” Soap muttered, his cheeks flushing.

But the teasing didn’t stop there. One of the younger men at the table, a mechanic who had joined the base recently, leaned forward, asking him about you with a smirk edged with something he didn’t like, at all.

Soap’s expression darkened instantly, his jaw clenching. Ghost, always the observer, grumbled lowly. “Leave it, lad,” he warned, his voice a quiet rumble. The mechanic wisely dropped the subject.

As the conversation shifted back to base gossip, Soap’s focus stayed on the book in his hands. He traced the edges of the paper bag absentmindedly, his mind replaying the moment you’d handed it to him and the warmth of your hand on his. His smile widened, soft and genuine, as he looked the book over again, the edges of the paper bag crinkling beneath his fingers.

Ghost glanced at Soap briefly, noting the faraway look in his eyes. With a barely audible snort, he shook his head and returned to his meal, leaving the smitten Scotsman to his thoughts.

. . .

Soap spent the better part of the next day scouring every corner of the base, peeking into offices, workshops, and even the records room during normal hours, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Each empty space only added to his frustration.

“Sneaky little mouse," he muttered under his breath with an undeniable smile, hands on his hips.

His gripping earned a chuckle from Gaz, who leaned back in his chair and exchanged a knowing look with Ghost. “Maybe you’re just not lookin’ in the right places, mate,” Gaz teased, popping a peanut into his mouth.

Ghost, however, offered a rare bit of practical advice. “Try the rec room. Late hours.” His tone was low, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Sometimes I go there when I can’t sleep. Tea’s decent, and I watch matches on my phone. Could be she’s got the same idea.”

Soap perked up at the suggestion, nodding gratefully. “Aye, worth a shot. Thanks, mate!"

Later that evening, Soap made his way to the rec room. The base was quieter, the halls dimly lit, and the faint hum of a vending machine filled the otherwise empty space. As he approached the rec room, the soft clink of a kettle caught his attention. Peering in, he spotted you by the small kitchenette, the warm glow of the stove’s light illuminating your face as you poured hot water into a mug.

For a moment, he hesitated. His usual bravado faltered as he took in the calm scene, unsure how to approach without disturbing the peaceful air you carried with you. But then, squaring his shoulders, he stepped inside.

“Didn’t think I’d find you 'ere,” he said, his voice low but carrying a playful lilt.

You glanced over your shoulder, surprised but smiling softly when you saw him. “Evening, Sergeant. Tea, late-night stroll, or both?”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Both, maybe. Been lookin’ for you, actually. You’ve got a knack for disappearin’, y’know.”

You turned back to the stove, shaking your head lightly as you reached for another mug. “You found me now, didn’t you? Want some tea?”

“Aye, thanks.” Soap approached, watching as you handed him the steaming mug. He cradled it, savoring the warmth in his hands. “Listen, about the book…”

You waved him off, cutting him off before he could continue. “It’s nothing, really. I should be the one thanking you. You’ve shown interest in the books and my little corner. It means a lot to have someone notice.”

Soap blinked, caught off guard by your words. Before you could turn back around to retrieve your own mug, he reached out, catching your hand. His fingers curled around yours gently, his thumb brushing the back of your knuckles.

The contact was warm, steady, and startlingly tender.

“No,” he said, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “It wasn’t nothin’. You went out of your way for me, and… it means more than I can say.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat when he lifted your hand, pressing a lingering kiss to your fingers. His lips were warm, his expression earnest as he looked up at you, gratitude and something deeper shining in his eyes.

For once, you were the one left speechless, your heart skipping a beat as the weight of his sincerity settled over you. Soap released your hand gently, his fingers lingering for just a moment before pulling back.

“Thank you,” he said again, his voice a near whisper.

You swallowed, your cheeks feeling uncharacteristically warm. “You’re welcome, Sergeant,” you managed, offering him a soft smile.

“Stay a while?” he asked, nodding toward the small table tucked into the corner.

Your heart skipped a beat, and before you could overthink it, you nodded, moving to sit down. He followed, his mug cradled in his hands as he eased into the chair across from you. The quiet hum of the room settled over you both, broken only by the soft clink of his mug against the table as he set it down.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. Instead, it felt warm, almost fragile, like something new and precious was taking root between you.

“You’ve got a knack for this,” he said, his tone low and easy.

“For what?” you asked, taking a sip of your tea.

“Doin’ things that catch a man off guard,” he replied, his blue eyes glinting with something playful yet sincere. “Like huntin’ down a book I barely remembered just to give me a piece of my past back.”

You waved him off modestly, though the compliment made your chest tighten in an unfamiliar way. "It's...just a book."

“To you, maybe,” he countered, his voice soft. “To me, it’s somethin’ more. And so’s this.”

He gestured vaguely, encompassing the quiet space you now shared, the table between you feeling more like a bridge than a barrier.

You lowered your gaze to your mug, the steam curling upward as you processed his words. There was a warmth in his voice, an openness you hadn’t expected but found yourself leaning into.

When you finally looked up, Soap was watching you, his gaze steady and filled with something unspoken. You held his eyes, the corners of your lips curving into a smile that matched his.

“This is nice,” you murmured, almost to yourself.

“Aye,” he agreed, his voice low. “It is.”

And as the two of you sat there, sipping tea and sharing quiet smiles, the space between you seemed to shrink, the glow of the moment wrapping around you both like a promise of something more to come.

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[sapphirelightningbug]

Love, Actually [Chapter 1: Jingle Bells]

Series Summary: Christmas 2005, you and Aegon meet in a dog park in your hometown of Newark, New Jersey. He’s a strange foreigner who you’re hesitant about at first but he’s enamored by you. The only thing that can help you two is a Christmas miracle, and maybe a New Years kiss.

Taglist in the comments!

“Bandit one, ‘Other Dog’ four,” Madison chimes in as you two gaze upon the dogs frolicking in the snow. They are barely visible as a white sheet of snow covers them. You had watched as they, just minutes ago made friends before beginning to play fight. It was commendable the way dogs bond so easily, only truly interested in the exhilarating.

You glimpse Madison as she overlooks what she has deemed a very serious match. It's almost wholesome the way she's able to appreciate such a mundane act as excitable in her head. She's rooting Bandit on when you hear a crunch in the snow. “Oh seven… and there goes Bandit,” she snorts as he face-plants into the snow. You giggle as you see the dog sneeze and shake off to get as much snow off himself as possible.

“You seriously can’t be keeping track of this,” you say while laughing. You whistle to call Bandit over, hand brushing over his damp, cold face to get any icy remnants off. He’d need a bath soon. Your gloved hand comes off with ice crystals that quickly melt against the temperature.

The night was arriving in the park, you and Madison had nearly gotten frostbite twice by the time you assumed it was smart to go home. When Bandit came trotting up to you in his magnificent glory, so had the other dog. So after tending to Bandit you look at Madison confused but observe the dog. This one wasn’t so fit for the cold, a bright golden shined in its fur despite the dull air and sky, and a small Christmas-themed bandana was wrapped around its neck.

“Uh, hey buddy,” you look down at the puppy and then turn to Madison as if to ask ‘What do I do with it?’. She lets up a little shrug, which wasn't helpful. You gaze through the rest of the park trying to find its owner, which came up pretty futile since it was 5 pm in the middle of December in fucking New Jersey! It was foggy and snowing which meant about ten feet of visibility. You clip the leash back on Bandit, and gesture for this other dog to follow, Madison behind you three as if she were herding you like sheep.

“Alright, let’s see if anyone’s looking for you,” you say as you pull the eclectic bunch through the park until you come face to face with a blonde-haired man. He looks a little frazzled and out of breath like he’s been running around in the crisp air of December. Honestly, he looks like he'd never expected it to be cold in the height of winter in the Northeast.

“Hi, sorry to bother you, but we’re trying to find this dog's owner. Is he yours, or have you seen anyone looking?” Before you could finish getting the words out he was on the snow-covered ground petting the ice out of the dog's fur. She realizes then why he looks drained: This is his dog.

He straightens out the golden retriever's bandana before looking over him once more and glancing up at you. “Thank you for supervising him Sunfyre likes getting himself into trouble sometimes.” Sunfyre? What kind of name is that? Nodding your eyes flick back at Madison, who was still staring at the man with a bit of a confused expression, slightly glazed over, like she couldn't tell he was actually there.

Finally, you turn to him and look over him. He is probably around their age, blonde, with slight stubble and severely underdressed for the weather. He realizes you are staring at him and he puts his hand out which you reluctantly take. The hand feels damp through your glove. “Aegon,” he smiles, Aegon? Again what kind of name is that? Apparently this guy has a tenacious appetite for odd names.

“Right, well I'm sorry if Sunfyre," the name feels weird in your mouth, "If Sunfyre had worried you. He and Bandit were just play fighting,” you gesture towards your dog. Bandit sits with a gaze that could only be considered admiration, dogs tend to do that to their owners it was one of the many things that made you fall in love with them. With his warm gaze on you, you rub his head with the hand Aegon wasn't shaking as you peer at the stranger and let go of his hand.

“Yeah, he’s a little rascal, basically a gremlin you know can’t feed them past midnight!” He was chipper much more than you’d expect, or the joke landed the wrong way you weren’t exactly sure. You assume his attitude is due to the excitement he felt over receiving his dog back. Snow fell over his beanie that he had on and you chuckled at the reference to a very beloved Christmas movie.

"We were just about to head out glad you got your dog back though,” you nod, looking down once more at the golden dog sniffing at its owner's feet. Aegon gazed over you as if copying your image to memory. It made you feel almost uncomfortable but it was subsided by the cute lopsided grip he had on his stubbled cheeks.

“Right maybe I can walk you two just out of thankfulness for you returning my dog,” you look back at Madison's eyes asking if they should when she interjected.

“Well I live just a little down the road so I have to go in a different direction,” Madison chirped always smiling, and feeling of a warm aura. You swallow realizing that you would have to walk alone with the man.

“Oh yeah, I have to walk to this coffee shop my other friend works at so she can drive me home I live a bit out of the way and I’ve got this guy,” you wring your hands together as you speak before gesturing to Bandit who was absentmindedly chewing on a stick he found Gods know where.

“I have no gripes walking you to the café,” he just would not give up would he? You mentally groan. “I mean I have nowhere to be really,” he smiled trying to seem normal about it. You hoped this wasn't a ploy, but how could it be really he couldn't have planned any of this. You were slowly becoming okay with the idea of him walking you to the café.

“Oh, okay, yeah, sure, we can go walk to the shop,” you turn to Madison and hug her before waving her off. “Get rest! Don’t want you getting a cold,” you yelled after her she smiled and gave you a thumbs up as she walked away.

You turn back to Aegon who is standing there admiring you, he looks away quickly. “You’re not gonna like serial murder me, right? Chop me up into little pieces and feed me to your weirdly named dog?” you chuckle nervously, not that you thought he would but you didn't know the man he could be Ted Bundy for all you knew.

He bursts into laughter, “No I’m not gonna chop you up into little pieces and feed you to my dog,” he chuckles. “Sunfyre is a very picky eater,” you laugh with him and begin to walk to the café as soon as Madison is out of eyesight. The snow’s still coming down in a drizzle and it crunches on the ground under you as you walk.

“Oh, so the only reason you’re not gonna kill me is because your dog is sassy with his meals?” You retort jokingly shaking your head. “I'm just kidding I get it Bandit gets a tummy ache when he eats most human foods too,” You run a thumb over the frayed bits of the rope that made Bandit's leash. When you looked up Aegon was staring at you. “What?” He looked away back down at Sunfyre before he clipped his red leash on him.

“So where is this coffee shop?” You glance back at him as you begin on the sidewalk, he's shivering slightly clearly cold from being in below-freezing temperatures underdressed for the weather.

“Just down the road there,” you point down from where you stand to a small shop that has a sign with a candy cane on it outside. There are very few others in sight; a couple walking on the sidewalk across the street, and one lone individual down the road walking in the opposite direction of them.

“So are you from New Jersey or did you move here recently?” You assume he hasn’t lived here for a while, less than a year probably. It was evident by his lack of a winter jacket or gloves. He was dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and a plain green sweatshirt. His blonde hair was mostly covered by a beanie. The tips of his fringe hung out slightly dampened by fallen snow.

“Not from here,” his slightly foreign accent only adds to the evidence of that fact. You look at him with a questioning look, “German," You nod. His fair skin is dull and dry, there are snowflakes in his eyelashes and his pink lips are chapped, dry skin peeling slightly.

“So what made you come to the great city of Newark?” Sarcasm drips from your lips. You gesture to the general area and look up at the snowy sky. Your nose is red from the cold, and it’s running faintly.

“Needed a change of scenery,” you look surprised. Most wanted out of Newark, not moving in for a 'change of scenery'.

"What'd you wanna see? Chihuahua sized rats frozen from winter snow?" A self-deprecating chuckle falls from your lips at the words before continuing. “But does your whole family live here or just you?” You almost feel bad for asking so many questions,—maybe even rambling—but he doesn’t seem to mind. He has a small smile on his face, more satisfied than anything, he just seems happy to be in someone else's presence.

“Well my sister, mother, and brothers live here with me, but my dad, his daughter, and their family still live in Germany,” you nod and scan over his face. Under the satisfaction of the moment, he looks tired. There were slight bags under his eyes their violet a little sad and his face pale, drained of color. Maybe it was just seasonal depression. Or maybe it was living in Newark?

"Thank goodness, and here I was thinking you were an only child," you both laugh a slight pink tone coming to his face; he shakes his head.

You’re feet away from the shop, the warm amber light flooding out on the cool-toned snowy street. The cottage windows are in a wooden frame, with frost in the outside corners. The wood is chipped a little from the years of it standing there.

Once getting a closer look at the sign it was visible that the painted candy cane was wrapped in mistletoe, the greens and reds contrasting each other perfectly. Next to the candy cane are the words 'Sips of the Season'.

Looking inside it was homely, a small library sits in the corner and the counter was decorated with tinsel and Christmas lights. A small pine tree sat in the corner drinking from a black pot underneath it. The tree was decorated with various colors, red, green, gold, and white ornaments adorn the branches catching on the needles.

Other than the ball ornaments there was a few personalized trinkets hanging off the tree. One from Greece, one from Italy, one from England, and one of your own that you had made for Jennifer, a small globe with a reindeer inside.

There was also gold and silver tinsel hanging from the tree. Multicolored lights garnish it as well, twinkling slightly. For short: Sips of the Season is decked out for the holidays.

A wreath wrapped in a scarlet bow welcomes you and Bandit at the door as you enter Sips of the Season, Aegon and Sunfyre following after you. Jen is at the counter back leaning against it, she turns around when she hears the bell. You take off your winter coat and gloves, and unclip Bandit’s leash. Bandit makes his way to an armchair in the corner of the store.

"There you are!" She beams, her ever-smiley face lights up with a warm contented grin. "You know I was just about to get out," it is then she notices that Aegon is in here with you. She has a small downturned smirk as she raises her eyebrows at you and gestures for you to approach her.

Aegon doesn’t realize your movements gazing around the shop and enjoying the warmth of it. You reach the counter and she looks at you with a predacious, toothy smile, the feeling she was going to say something ridiculous washing over you. "So who's the cute blonde?" She whispers, her shit-eating grin getting even bigger. Before you can get anything out she speaks once more, "And, when were you going to tell me you were dating again?"

"It's not like that," She rolls her eyes at your words.

"'Not like that'? Gosh, do you even hear yourself you're basically screaming that you want him! Plus you're like totally blushing," you are certain you are not but her saying that makes your face tinge pink ever so slightly.

"I am not," you mutter back. It was then that Aegon decides to nudge his way into the conversation when he finally moves from the spot he was standing looking around the room. "Oh, hey," you raise your eyebrows as if to ask 'What's Up?'.

"I'm going to go back to our den for the evening," he gestured to Sunfyre and himself, "But it was great to meet you." His voice is smooth like velvet, it makes your stomach tingle.

"Oh! Right," you look over at Jennifer trying to figure out what to do. "Do you want Hot Chocolate or Coffee or Tea?" you list off awkwardly trying to get as much out as possible. "On the house of course," you add quickly before turning to Jen and looking at her as though you were saying 'Sorry', she rolls her brown doe eyes.

"Hot Chocolate is good, to-go of course," you nod and look over to Jen and she starts making the Hot Cocoa. You and Aegon stand there awkwardly not really knowing what to say to each other.

Jen comes out with the warm drink in a festive red and white disposable to-go cup you hand it to Aegon and he thanks you. He guides Sunfyre back to the front door and the bell above it rings as you two wave each other off as a pit grows in your stomach.

"So did you like give him your number... or at least write it on the cup?" You shake your head and she looks at you like you’re hopeless.

"I fudged that didn't I?" You wring your hands together the sweat on them making them slip out of each other quickly.

"Definitely," she murmurs. At least she was honest, but that isn’t what’s on your mind there was only one word that is.

Fuck.

Comment if you'd like to be tagged!

[nausicaaandhermouth]

The Healer

masterlist

viktor x anhedonic!reader [1.4k][AO3]

cw: implied/referenced depression, suicide, suicidal ideation, self harm

summary: Anhedonia set in and the idea of exiting life's stage became all the more appealing. But you've heard about The Healer and perhaps he can save you.

tags: gn reader, S2 Viktor, post-Act 1, anhedonia, angst, depression, suicide, SI, SH, viktor gardening?, reader's just admiring him atp, not betad, not encouraging anybody to join any cult

a/n: idk if vik's abilities extends to making plants appear but for this pretend it does

if you're unfamiliar with what anhedonia is, it's a symptom of a larger condition (can be depression, bipolar, schizophrenia, more), characterised by the inability to experience physical and/or social pleasure. makes existing difficult, like you're dragging so much pointless weight and everything feels high effort, so what's the point.

just a brief description (based on what i've learnt from it in research and experience), so i encourage learning more to get it more in depth if it interests you or sounds too familiar.

You prayed for an easy coax out of the darkness.

The little home of scrap fabric and heartbroken brick you built throughout the years was becoming more and more dilapidated, though its original state had never been of full health to begin with. And like it, your body’s ridges became prominent, visited by unexplained bruises, warmed by the thickened hair on your skin, and yet living on had always been the only option you saw—no, the only option you allowed.

You’d breathed long enough to outlive many of those around you. Whether it was becoming grey-lunged corpses, enforcer punching bags, or a Promenade diver, everybody knew somebody who, sooner rather than later, knelt to kiss Death’s feet. Surrendered. Be it by their own or another’s will.

Then it fell upon you: the swole blanket of indifference, of apathy. It cloaked your mind, buried your defences that was defiance, which had been the only source of survival you’d had left. But snuffed out now.

And how easy it is to think of self-inflicted inexistence when it seems nothing else matters.

Oblivion would whisper in the corner, a demented, deformed dog snarling yet begging your hand’s comfort. Come to me. And you can’t find good reason as to why you shouldn’t.

This… healer—a man whose touch could gild any man’s sick and bestow him a new life, a new body, a new mind—you’re not sure when he arrived. But the whispers morphed to murmurs which morphed to rumours and unfolded itself into your side of the city’s underbelly.

Was he the answer to your prayer?

You made journey to the place you’d heard he’d made camp, and it unfurled before you and stole all expectation and put them to rest. Because for once, the Sumps had colour, had life.

At the centre stood a strange, globular… building? Just like stained glass, its surface was of mute Spring colours, translucent, swirling lattice-work reminiscent of butterfly wing patterns.

He’s a tall thing. A beautiful thing. His metal body cloaked, careful, and coded with grace. Each movement was deliberate, no gaze shared unintentional. How had he come to exist? How had this world birthed your people’s suffering but, as well, him?

You want to laugh at the sick irony. Whoever’s dealing the cards need their hands cut off.

“What ails you?” he asks, giving you such soft regarding you can’t help but be rendered speechless.

In truth, you’re not sure. Physically, you know you’re lacking, but so was everyone so why are you different? In your head there sits a temptress, attempting to lure you to the edge of buildings or blades, but she had no name. No one speaks of her.

The healer tilts his head, seeming to take a better look at you. He looks so kind. Such eyes, opalescent, have seen suffering, and you know it.

“Life,” you give a one-shouldered shrug, smiling. “I… I’m not actually… uh, I don’t know what I’m doing here,” you take a step back.

What had been the point of this? Attempt what? Healing? What’s this man to do?

“No,” he steps closer, his voice swathed in a strange mechanical whir. “Stay,”

You’re sure that by the furrowed desperation on you, it convinces something inside him, as he turns and beckons you with a nudge of his head. So you follow.

Each step he makes creates a heavy thunk beneath him, and though you don’t feel its impact, merely by sound you feel the weight of him. How had he acquired such a body? Modded fingers, let alone limbs, cost years of your wages—you can’t imagine how much his entire body might have cost.

“I can feel something plaguing you,” he begins, shifting slightly to catch a look of you.

You scoff but it doesn’t quite match your face.

“Then what brought you to me?” he shrugs and looks away, leading you to the side of the Sumps where a clear plain rolled out.

You watch as he kneels and reaches for the soil, taking it between metal fingers.

“I’m not sure,” you kneel beside him, shoulders bunching up. “What are you doing?”

He hums, smoothing the ground and creating indents, “I’m assessing,”

You lean forward, folding your arms and hanging your head to look at him.

The metal frames his face, just barely hidden by chestnut waves, curling beneath the jaw and around the ear.

He’s got a rather angular beauty to him, something belonging to scrutiny and studiosity. Even his strong brows follow theme, arched forward in a focused furrow, over narrowed eyes homing iridescent irises. You’re not sure if he’s from this world. Or if the world was gifted him.

Your attention trails back to his hand, and he digs his fingers beneath the soil. Then, hand glowing beneath the metallic muscles, the ground is imbued with a light, where then verdant stems spring alive.

You choke back a gasp, glancing about as the spindly bodies uncurl and reveal yellow petals. Roses?

Whipping back to him, you take note of the glow leaving his eyes, shock threading through your system.

When you glance back at the flowers, now surrounding the both of you, you can’t help but think: logically, how you might have reacted would be with pleasant surprise, glee, even.

Such occurrences, the arcane or a mere flower field, was a coveted sight, and without a doubt you would have felt the surge of optimism. But instead nothing happens. Instead it’s unmet anticipation and expectation sitting at your belly, pooling into grey disappointment.

It’s when you look back to the healer that you realise this disappointment must have shown on your face. He inclines his head so slightly, blinks, as if saying I understand. And he smiles. He smiles and it’s the gentlest thing ever given to you to hold and witness.

You want to crumple, to lay graves for your limbs and disassemble each part that ever dared to exist only to suffer. There used to be anger, and at the very least there was indignation. At topside for their neglect, your parents or finding each other, for finding something beyond the misery and creating you. Where had all such righteous resentment gone?

“Viktor,”

You look up to see the healer’s hand stretched out, asking for yours in return. And you oblige, shaking it gently, before pulling away only to be held with soft restraint.

“You are welcome to stay,” his voice becomes tender, becomes more human almost, aimed purely for your audience. “Even if what torments is not outright seen. I welcome all,”

Your breath comes out long, carrying with it the tired days in the dark. The healer… Viktor makes no acknowledgement of this but just another observant blink, the corners of his mouth slightly tightening.

“Wasn’t gonna die or anything,” you joke, flattening your lips and hoping it registers as a smile, however trying it may appear.

“Eh,” Viktor shrugs, turning his attention to your hand and turning it about as if trying to see new angles. “A slow death is still a death,”

This makes you frown. Why has he assumed? But why is he right?

“The slower it is, the more painful, I think,” he remarks, but he seems almost far away. “As you watch what is left of you wither, and all you can do is… hm, watch,”

Then you understand. Something in your chest tightens as you take in once again all this stranger is. “You’re well-acquainted,” you note, coming out barely as breath and observation, spoken clearer by the narrowing of your eyes than your own voice.

He looks at you again, and something’s changed. His eyes? It seems. There’s something more amber about them, more grounded in this singular hue. “My longest companion,”

You hum, nodding.

There’s a safety in knowing you’re understood, even if they’re not able to fix you. It cloaks you warmer than summer, than any consolation offered in pity—he understands. And perhaps not the very same that brandishes you, but in some aspect he knows.

Which is what makes you ask, “Can you fix me?”

His eyes resume that pearl sheen once again and you’re mesmerised, gaze flitting between each eye in deep investigation—tell me who you are, how you are; tell me how you’ll fix me. Like the field around, the sweet sunshine hues of the roses, to make your land more than just barren.

And he does. He raises his other hand, uncurling, coming to hover by your face. “May I?”

You breath sweeps back in and you nod, leaning forward and connecting his cold fingers to your cheek.

He notes you for a moment, saying nothing, doing nothing. It’s his gaze that makes you feel naked, removed of any pretence crafted carefully. But he shifts his attention and his fingers connected with your forehead, eyes overtaken by a white glow.

Your vision drowns in the white.

a/n anhedonia's been hitting me and this is the only thing i could muster to make so here we gooo. not my favourite, feel like i could've done it better but oh well, least i made something wahooyaaa writing is coping after all 🫵🏼😃🗣️

requests + taglist open!

[this is a reupload, i have no idea why the original post disappeared :''')]

[isagrimorie]

It’s so interesting how Agatha Harkness loves being a witch, and everything about being a witch: Magick, the craft of Magick. The skill of figuring out how a spell works.

But not the other parts of it: Community.

And, Agatha’s definition what a Witch is, is so damned fascinating. As the hosts of Crazy Stupid Podcast mentioned, Agatha has a scarcity mindset.

For Agatha being a Witch meant being hardened, a survivor at any cost, because it was all Agatha knew of being a Witch. Witches are persecuted, so they do everything to survive.

(Meanwhile, Sorcerers are revered in the MCU.)

Agatha told Wanda there’s always men who want to tear down ladies like them… and it’s true but what she didn’t tell Wanda, is that Agatha would sell everyone else down the river to, to survive.

She’s the Apex predator of Witches.

(And 100% the reason why there’s not a lot of Witches around in both the United States and Europe since it’s apparent that she also went to Europe in her long life.)

And that makes Agatha so fascinating.

Agatha really is like my number one favorite girl, Katherine Pierce. (Who, I realize is older than Agatha too, since Agatha is only pushing 300, meanwhile, Katherine is 500 when we meet her in TVD.)

“Never trust a survivor,” my father used to warn me, with Vartan Mamigonian in mind, “until you find out what he did to stay alive.” - Kurt Vonnegut, Bluebeard

This is pretty much the SOP with both Agatha and Katherine.

Unlike Katherine Pierce, Agatha Harkness has a better chance of finding some kind of grace and peace because the writers actually think she’s interesting, complex and a character worth investing time in. Unlike the TVD writers who just used Katherine as a convenient chess piece to move around.

The thing about Agatha though, is apparently, if you managed to chain her to a group of witches and have her life tied to their wellbeing, Agatha does start to bond with a Coven.

Her paranoia and need to consume magick are the things that keep her from bonding with them. But she’s at her best when she’s guiding people and being a mentor, and a leader.

Unfortunately, Agatha also has a tendency to get people killed or harm them even though she doesn’t have any intention doing so.

‘Witch Killer’ is a nickname Agatha can’t escape from… because it’s true.

[antianakin]

Poor Shin was a casualty of the show she was in being four separate narratives in a trenchcoat and she was only actually relevant to one of them.

I would've loved to know more about her history with Baylan, why she's so loyal to him, how they met and came together as a master and apprentice at all. The evolution of it is so interesting because you can tell that Baylan has such a completely different idea of where this relationship is going and what it is than Shin does. Shin seems to believe their goals are all about acquiring power and believes they're going to stay together probably forever (unless one of them dies). Baylan isn't actually after power at all but knows that Shin IS (or at least he BELIEVES that's what she wants) and is fully prepared to dump her in order to go after his own goals, but he also seems to think that this separation is the healthiest thing to do because all relationships come to an end and, for him, this is just their natural end. He cares about her, but he isn't DEVOTED to her the way she is to him. For Baylan, this is the last lesson he'll ever teach her. For Shin, this was an immense betrayal that came out of fucking nowhere. And I just find that dynamic so interesting, but because we have literally ZERO context, it's just a promise of something more interesting than it actually is. It's all questions that you have to hope get answered later somewhere but nothing genuinely SOLID.

The one thing that I found MOST interesting about Shin was that she was, quite honestly, the most Jedi positive person in the entire show (unless we count Jacen being excited that Sabine is going to become a Jedi). It's SABINE who asks for more information about the Jedi, it's SABINE who asks if Baylan misses them (and the idea that he MIGHT miss the Jedi is at least a confirmation that they were good enough people TO miss and that it should be sad that they were killed and aren't around anymore, which is more credit than either Baylan or Ahsoka ever give them, and a more emotional connection to the Jedi as a concept than either Sabine or Huyang really show). She's got a Jedi padawan braid in her hair and that indicates EITHER that Baylan told her about it and wanted her to have it, or that Shin knew about the tradition somehow and specifically asked to have it or put it in herself without asking because it meant something to her. Either way, that is, again, more of a connection to the Jedi than we see from ANYONE ELSE on the entire show and more of a DESIRE for a connection to the Jedi than we see from anybody else.

And it feels BONKERS that the one character on this show that doesn't have ANY real connection to the Jedi aside from Baylan who doesn't really identify as one anymore and isn't intentionally trying to train her to BE a Jedi, is the one who seems most inclined to view them positively and seek out a connection to that identity.

And I want that to mean something, I want it to be a glimpse into a depth that will get explored at some point, but I just... don't really think it is. At best I think it was a fluke and her moments of connection to the Jedi are just there to help move someone else's narrative forward, to help someone else be a mouthpiece for the show's thesis, or as a cool aesthetic without any deeper meaning to it.

At worst, I think it's possible that Shin's more positive connections to the Jedi are intended to be an indication of CORRUPTION in her. The Jedi are represented as weak elitist failures in the Ahsoka show, you're not supposed to WANT characters like Ahsoka and Sabine to truly BE Jedi. At best, you're supposed to want them to be Jedi who are very DIFFERENT from the Prequels Jedi because to be like the Prequels Jedi is to be a failure. Sabine doesn't wear the braid, she doesn't wear Jedi robes and instead explicitly dresses in ARMOR, she doesn't trust or respect traditional/standard Jedi protocols, and she doesn't believe in the Jedi's teachings about attachment. Ahsoka claims to not be training her to be a Jedi but does try to push more Jedi-like teachings of non-attachment earlier on and that theology is clearly represented as bad and repressed, while Sabine's willingness to give up everything for love is represented as HEROIC. Sabine's lack of connection to anything more traditionally Jedi-like is the symbolic visual representation of her heroism, while Shin's somewhat greater visual connection to more traditional Jedi things might actually be representative of her corruption. Shin, like the Jedi of old, is too old-fashioned, too stuck in her ways, and that will destroy her in the end.

I don't LIKE that analysis of her, obviously, I'd much prefer the idea that Shin's connection to the Jedi is actually a hint that she's not beyond redemption, but given the themes of the Ahsoka show, the second option seems so much more likely.

Overall, I DO think that poor Shin got left out in the cold in terms of development and she ended up pretty flat as a character because the show was way too overstuffed and something had to give. Theoretically she'll get more focus in the second season since the search for Ezra is over, Thrawn is gone, and they're separated from everything happening in the other galaxy, so characters like Baylan and Shin can finally take center stage in a way that was simply impossible in season 1. Whether that development will be any good or not is obviously incredibly questionable, but given her fan favorite status, it seems fairly likely that we'll see much more of her.

Kinda sad about Shin Hati's characterization...

She already has none in canon, and in the fandom she is always just a different shade of "crazy eyed girl" (a really popular trope in fandoms in general) which is extremely boring...

Like, can we try and give her something... more??? Please???

[sunsbleeding]

“I think I’ll just stay with her till I get my birthday presents”, she laughs, sounding more pig than human. I nod along as she continues, “she such a freak she just stares at the wall all day”, I bite my tongue, because saying the wrong thing would get her all despondent and quiet. Agree or be ignored, just like the shadow of my mother and her silent treatments.

But the thing is I used to just stare at the wall all day too, for whole weeks actually. I’d be so depressed that the heaviness in my stomach would anchor me to my bedspread; nothing to do but watch the sun change shape over the walls as it sank. I did this in high school a few months before the hazy night my life was supposed to end. The EMTs refused to let me choose though. Stuffed my soul back in my body and wiped vomit off my face and chest with those cheap paper towels you usually only find in gas station bathrooms.

When we talked ill of her girlfriend I should have said “well you’re using her, you’re manipulating her, you don’t respect her boundaries, you date a wizard created by a terf in your head, and to top it all off you’re in love with a man that lives in LA, for God sakes you write poetry about him for her to see (and laugh when it’s the only poem she doesn’t heart), you make out with me and tell me not to tell her, you can keep her on a leash if she doesn’t know you lie”

So you go, scurry on putrid rat and tell MY stories to your “friends” but boy do I have tales to tell about you, and none of them are even remotely funny or interesting or complex, because you are not any of those things. The stories are just snippets of a girl who was and always will be a boring beige wall of a person, spineless, dreamless, talentless and going nowhere bright. Couldn’t even sign up for university classes properly my ass, you’re just too lazy with a lack of comprehension or a knack for learning about anything that matters. I went through all of university without the money for therapy, without meds for my anxiety or depression, or a diagnosis for my ADHD. You have all the help in the world afforded to you and you still choose to do nothing with your life. Pathetic. You wouldn’t have enough time to read fan fiction anyways so it’s better you just study that, since it’s the only thing you’re remotely good at.

You tell them about your addict, child molested, depressed ex-best friend, who’s seen the world, experienced so much life, built a dream into something tangible, made money you took full advantage of, finished university (it’s not for everyone and that’s okay but let’s be honest you’d rather read smut some horny weirdo on the internet made up than learn about anything real, meaningful or socially relevant).

This all has taught me that I have real friends and supporters in my circle, I have people that’ll sit with me in the bathroom while I’m having a panic attacks. Celebrate being even five days clean. Ask me if I’m okay if I look spaced out (dissociating is something I deal with).

Because of this I remembered I have passions, and taste, and empathy (the word you skipped when you were reading the dictionary). I’ll tell them about you, a waste of space nobody who feeds off the energies of the pretty or cool or interesting girls around her because she hasn’t got a thing going for herself. I have pity for the things you went through but you can only use your trauma as an excuse to be a bad person for so long…. You are a mooch, a liar, a dull woman with the media literacy of an incel and the brainpower of a rock. (Maybe you did do too many whippets in LA smh)

Having a best friend is awesome, having any type of relationship with a delusional psycho narcissist is something I’m done with.

[polaris-likethestar]

how to get your man back: a step-by-step guide by raven - chapter one

hiii so i wrote another story, its a raven x hank fake dating high school au where popular cheerleader raven uses nerdy teen hank to get her boyfriend erik back after he dumps her (raven/hank and charles/erik endgame).

side note this was supposed to be a crack fic but then i took it a bit too seriously so now raven's annoying but in a weird way, sorry about that:) enjoy !!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Its not everyday that your your angsty, bad boy, literal walking-talking-breathing-version-of-a-love-interest-in-a-romance-novel boyfriend of two months, two weeks and four days breaks up with you over phone call. Like, he didn’t even have the audacity to tell you in person?? Okay, so his parents are like super European (he just moved from Germany) and maybe that means that their too strict to let him go visit his girlfriend past nine pm but still. They would have had to understand this was an urgent matter. Your heart was on the line!

Now, naturally you’d be upset and have your brother drive to the nearest whole foods to get your favorite cotton candy ice cream. But, what’s different about you and other people your age who happen to get broken up with over a phone call is that you are not just going to sit there and let your ex have the last laugh. No. Not happening. You are going to come up with a master plan, something no one would have ever assumed you were capable of doing. You’re going to make him so jealous, so furious with….furiousty that he wants you back. But here’s the thing: you’re not going to take him back. Not at first anyway. Give it time. Let the anger really seep through.

This is currently Raven’s plan. And now, you may be wondering, how exactly is she going to execute this plan? Simple. She’s going to find a new man, pay him an absurd amount of money to agree to be her fake boyfriend and take it from there.

And Raven already knows exactly who she wants this new “boyfriend” to be. Enter Hank Mccoy, the smartest kid in the school.

Now, Raven realizes how cliché this is. The popular cheerleader (her) and the nerd (him). They would never actually date on their own, only if there’s some sort of scheme involved. But that’s what’s so smart about it: no one is going to even suspect that she might be up to something. It’s too obvious. And it’s not like she was going to fall in love with Hank by the end…right? Right. Obviously.

So, when her brother returns with the ice cream, 32 minutes later (which, how bad is traffic at this late on a Wednesday night? They live in Westchester, not Los Angeles) she tells him the plan. “Charles, this is so smart, I’m going to have him back in no time.” He sat down next to her on her pink fuzzy rug. “Well, Raven, that’s lovely, but do we know why exactly he broke up with you in the first place?”

Huh. Raven hadn’t asked. Maybe she should have. “Well, I can’t call him now.” She shrugged. “It’s fine, whatever the reason is, he’ll forget about it.” Charles just nodded. Okay, so maybe his intellectual self thought that Raven was being a little bit delusional, but he’ll get it eventually. He has to. It wasn’t so long ago that he was stalking some guy he just met, taking the bus in the opposite direction just to follow him. Then one day he just stopped. Raven never actually found out why. But she wasn’t going to end up like her brother, she wasn’t going to just stop. He was probably just scared. But not Raven. She was going to get exactly what she wanted.

“Okay, well, how do you plan on getting Hank to agree with this?” Charles asked. “Well, aren’t you both on the mathletes? You know him.” Raven said. “He knows who I am. Tell him I want to talk to him. I mean, he’s like, scared of me. He literally wrote my whole essay for finals last year because I asked him to- and don’t look at me like that, Charles, I wasn’t trying to repeat 10th grade again.”

Charles just sighed. “Well, I suppose I could ask him to meet you during lunch time tomorrow. But be sensible about this, Raven, this could end up going really wrong.” Raven just shook her head. “Yeah, but it could end up going really right. Like, me and Erik could get married and have like, really pretty babies. Can you imagine? Oh my god, that’ll be such a fun wedding! I can’t wait! And of course you’re going to be invited. You and Emma and Angel and Moira and Jean and I guess Scott although between you and me, I really hope she dumps him by then, oh and Peter too, and Kurt and if this goes well, maybe even Hank as a thank you. You know what- I’m going to invite the whole school! We could even get a popcorn machine, like, everyone loves popcorn, right? Oh, it’ll be a blast, can you see the vision?”

Raven rambled on and on until Charles was getting visibly annoyed, and she did feel bad, so she let him sleep. But she plugged in her headphones, put her playlist on shuffle, and stayed up dreaming about how life would be like when she got her man back.

The next day, Charles kept his word and talked to Hank. She knew this because he was following her around like a lost puppy. It was kind of amusing at first, but then it just became kind of annoying so she eventually addressed him. “Hi, my brother sent you, right?” she asked. “Uh, yeah.” Hank responded. “I’m kind of confused as to why though?”

Raven smiled. “Alright. So, what I’m going to do is every Friday, starting tomorrow, for the next five weeks I’m going to venmo you $250 and we are going to pretend we are in a relationship and let the whole school believe that and then when it’s time, you dump me. Sound good?”

“Uh, what?” Hank asked. Raven just rolled her eyes; it was literally simple instructions. He’s supposed to be, like, super smart. Probably even more than her brother. “I’m going to pay you and you’re going to fake date me and then we will stage a very public break up where you leave me. Okay?” She tried looking as intimidating as possible, hoping that if the offer of money wasn’t enough, maybe she could scare him into agreeing.

“Um, aren’t you going out with Erik still?” “That’s not important, Hank, what’s important is that I really need this, okay. And I mean, like, it’s not like you have a girlfriend or anything.” Suddenly, Raven’s eyes widened. She never even thought about it. Maybe he did have a girlfriend. That would be awkward. “Wait, you don’t have like, a girlfriend or anything? Right?”

“Uh, no, but why are you doing this? Like, there’s got to be a reason.” Ugh. Why did he have to be so curious? I guess that’s how smart people are or whatever. “Okay, fine. So, like, you can’t tell anyone and I’m serious, no one? But like, Erik kind of dumped and we are supposed to make him jealous. Got it?”

“No, I don’t got it.” He spoke. Now he was getting kind of angry. Not like angry-angry but as angry as a miniature kitty cat could get, the cute kind. Not that he’s cute. The cat is.  Just the cat. “Okay, well.” Raven tried to reason with him. “Uh, how about $300 per week then?” “$350.” He responded. Now, typically, this would be fine, the Xaviers are loaded, but she was curious how hard he was going to fight back.

“$320.” She offered. “No.” He responded. “It’s $350 or nothing.” Raven just scoffed. “Um, okay, why are acting so entitled? Like, I don’t have to pay you at all. It’ll be inconvenient for me if you don’t agree, sure, but it’s not, like, the end of the world. I could find someone else, Hank. You aren’t special. Just because you’re super smart doesn’t mean anything to me, it never did. So, take it or leave it, your choice.” Sure, it was mean, maybe a little bit extra, but Raven never said she was a nice person. She hoped that her little speech would get him to agree, but it didn’t. He went silent. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Maybe it wasn’t worth all this trouble. So, just as she was about to walk away, Hank spoke up.

“You’re right. You don’t need me. Not me in particular, anyways. I’m sure you could easily find some other lonely, geeky, easy-to-bully teenage boy in our school to go along with your little plot. I mean, that’s what you were going for, right? You said it yourself, I’m super smart. So, I have a reputation, obviously. And yeah, it’s the not the best one, but it’s there. You have one too. The popular cheerleader. Can get anyone she wants. Every guy wrapped around her finger. That’s the stereotype, and so far, you’ve been fitting it. So of course, you want a boyfriend and of course you know once it gets out that you’ve been dumped, you’re going to look bad. And this, here, it kind of looks like a charity case, doesn’t it? You know that. And the whole public break up thing makes people feel bad for you, like you trusted me and I betrayed you, and you’ll go running back into his arms. Like you’re the victim. And I’m the bad guy. I’m not stupid, Raven, I see right through you. You know, I’m not even sure if you like him. I wouldn’t put it past you to just date him for the attention, because I know there are people who genuinely want him, and I can tell that you are not one of them. But fine, I will go along with your little scheme, and fine, I will go along with whatever it is you tell me to do but the least you can do is give me the $350 and let me salvage a little bit of respect.”

Okay. So now he’s like, way past kitty cat angry.

“Okay. Fine. Uh, $350 it is.” Raven wasn’t shaken up. She wasn’t hurt. Obviously not. “Okay, um, I’ll text you, okay? My brother will give me your number.” There was an awkward silence, and Hank was getting fidgety. The only positive thing about this besides that Hank agreed is that he visibly wasn’t all that comfortable with lashing out on her.

“Yeah, sure. Bye.” He said, turning on his heel, walking away.

Well, she did it. Part one of the plan is completed. She’s going to have her boyfriend back in no time and that wedding is going to happen. And oh, she can’t wait.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[kaeyalovr]

Yandere Kaeya x reader drabble

idk I'm really bored it's 3AM and I wanted to post something. Not proofread sorry for any mistakes!!

tw. kidnapping, non-con, kaeya being a bit creepy but it's okay we love him

1,5k words

You've just been hired as one of Jean's many assistants. The pay could be better but it's enough to get by and hey, it's not like you have the right to be super picky about it, this is one of your first jobs so you have pretty much no prior experience becides some freelance gigs here and there.

You were initially very happy with the fact that you were going to get to assist the acting grand master and actually help mondstadt directly. Having wild dreams of being Jean's right hand woman, ready to be at her beck and call, being a part of important meetings giving insightful advice, you know, making mondstadt a better place.

Boy were you in for a rude awakening when you realized all you got to actually do was boring paperwork all day long. Just. Paperwork. Oh and sometimes if it was a really exciting day, you got to deliver a letter or two!

So obviously when the flirtatious cavalry captain started chatting with you by your desk every now and then, you appreciated it. It was just mindless small talk; "how has your day been?" "do you want a cup of coffee?" "the weather's nice today", but nonetheless you enjoyed it. It was a nice distraction in the middle of a boring day filled with piles and piles of documents. You even started looking forward to having him stop by your desk.

Little did you know how much he enjoyed it too. Honestly you didn't know why he had taken such an interest in you, he didn't seem to talk to the other office workers this much. Well he didn't seem to talk to them at all.

Your talks got more and more frequent, which you didn't mind, until they started interfering with your work. At the start he would stay for maybe five minutes, but it gradually got longer and longer, eventually he started lingering for what seemed like forever, talking about the most monotonous things. If you tried to do your work while he was talking, he would stop you and in a playful tone call you rude for not giving him your full attention. Honestly, if you, a simple office worker, was falling behind on your work because of this how did he, a cavalry CAPTAIN, find the time for these conversations? Did he seriously not have work of his own to attend to?

Then he started to get weird. First, quick glances at your lips or breasts, then his and your hands started "accidentally" brushing against each other and then a frequent hand on your shoulder or hip. You started getting uncomfortable. Did he always stand so close to you? Did he always keep his hand motionless on your thigh? Did he always call you by a cringy petname?

After a few weeks of this you decided to leave, he was a captain for archons sake, you couldn't avoid him. Especially not when you were couped up in one place for practically the whole day. Whatever, you got a new job in a local antique shop. At least this job would be more suited to your tastes and let you strech your legs a bit more. Plus there would be no creepy blue haired man to disturb you anymore.

You worked a full day in your old office before you were given permission to pack up your desk and leave. Jean really wanted to get every mora's worth out of you huh. The sun was setting below the horizon now, some nice scenery while you pack your things. Your multicolored pens which you only used once, a photo of you and your family and a mug gifted to you by an old friend. The office was almost empty at this point, except for a couple late night stragglers too focused on their work to notice anything anyway. You lasted a total of two months here, a bit pathetic but it's okay, now you know you're not cut out for the office life.

You're done packing relatively quickly since you didn't have much stuff there. As your desk was so small and overflowing with papers so there wasn't much space to have personal belongings stored anywhere. You're about to head out the door when a familiar voice stops you in your tracks, Kaeya. You exchange pleasantries and tell him you're packing up to leave. He seems shocked at that and asks why you're leaving, you give him some excuse about how you got a better paying job somewhere else. Definitely not because of you, you muse to yourself. Though the former reasoning is not entirely untruthful.

He says it's dark and offers to walk you home, you know, for safety. He's right and you didn't mind a 20 minute walk with him if it meant you never had to see him again. If only you'd been a little smarter.

While walking with Kaeya you engage in your usual smalltalk, though his voice is lower than usual. He's walking behind you all calm and nonchalant, and it's giving you the creeps even though you know it shouldn't, you rationalize his behaviors as him being tired after a long day of work. You try to walk a bit more briskly than usual to get to your house faster. You're renting out a room in a nice old lady's house.

You two are walking in a particularly dark and empty alleyway when you suddenly feel a hand clamp over your mouth. Panicked you look back and catch a glimpse of an ever unfazed Kaeya being the perpetrator of this act. His other arm wraps around your neck and crushes your windpipe. You struggle in his arms, your strength being no match for his, he easily overpowers you and keeps you firm in his grasp. You thrash a bit more before everything turns black.

You wake up in a foreign king-size bed with cold silky sheets. You lift your hand up to rub at your eyes but notice the leather belt binding both your hands to the headboard. You get increasinly panicked and memories of the night before come flodding back. You start to thrash and open your mouth to scream when the bedroom door opens.

In walks the blue haired prick who did this to you. You hurl every insult you can think of at him and demand he lets you go. He merely chuckles and asks why he would do that. You threaten to scream, he threatens to gag you, you stay silent. You start to get desperate and once you finally accept that the leather restraints won't budge, you plead with him, promise to not tell anyone about what he did. He simply retorts that even if you did miraculously escape and tell someone, no one would believe you.

He walks toward the bed and you try to rationalize the situation you're in right now. Why did he choose you and what does he even want to do with you? Does he intend to hold you for ransom? No, he's a decorated captain with presumably plenty of riches. Does he want some top secret information from you? He starts to unbuckle his pants. Oh. THAT'S what he wants.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Your heart starts racing as you understand the severity of the predicament you're in right now. He climbs onto the bed, on top of you. This has to be a nightmare or some fucked up prank right? He pulls down your pants and let's out a wolf whistle. That fucking bastard. Next goes your panties and he rolls up your shirt, unable to pull it off completely because of your bound hands. Your breathing quickens. You beg him to stop. He doesn't.

He pulls down his boxers, you close your eyes tight and start hyperventilating. "Don't cry sweetheart, it's okay. Fuck you're so hot when you cry. Hey, look at me." He lightly slaps your face a few times. You reluctantly open your eyes and unintentionally glance down. He's fucking massive. Well not like the biggest dick in Teyvat but it's gotta be up there on the list man. Not that you've had a lot of experience to know what's big and what's not. Well none really. But you know for a fact that THAT is not gonna fit inside you, and you don't want it to.

He leans down and starts getting into position. You get a surge of adrenaline and start to thrash and struggle with all your might. Kaeya gets annoyed at that, grabs your legs and tells you to stop struggling and mumbles something about how it'll be easier for the both of you. You don't really care what he says and kick him straight in the stomach. You know it didn't do any real damage to him but it stops him for a minute. He's pissed.

"You know, I tried to do this the nice way. But you just love to make it difficult and act like a brat all the fucking time don't you. Not to worry, we have the whole day to fuck that out of you." Is the last thing you hear before he spears into you.

grrrr I left so much out but I gtg to sleep (also rushed ending sorry). Might make this into a fic if I feel like it and you guys want it😝 reqs are open btw

[autisticjoshrusso]

ok ok ok. a post about josh, buck, and maddie at dispatch as promised. (and because i dont feel like writing a whole separate post or repeating myself etc, if im pointing something out as evidence for my autistic josh headcanon, it'll be in parenthesis like this) also this is long because im going basically line by line in some places so just be prepared for that and such.

the first thing i wanna say before anything else is that like... as far as how this conversation fits into the larger narrative, i was fairly disappointed, due to the way that including this scene like this is kinda implying that the racism was fine because of being closeted etc. HOWEVER. luckily for my sanity it is pretty clear that from a character perspective, that's not at all what's being said by josh himself here, and we can be pretty certain that he is not aware of tommy's past behaviors. in fact he has almost no facts or context about the situation, which i'll get into later.

now that the disclaimer is out of the way, im gonna move onto character analysis and will not be touching on what i think the narrative might have meant etc. any further. like this is going to be purely talking about character dynamics and dissecting the dialogue etc.

we start out right away by skipping all the exposition right into a hard cut of maddie reacting to the news that tommy and abby were engaged. LOVE this set up we get right into the important part quickly and we as the audience only have to hear information that is new to us, not the information being repeated back to the character for whom the information is new.

and oh maddie. i love you so bad. she's like DAMN thats crazy, and then makes the obvious turning people gay joke. her energy here is sooo like it didn't make sense until looking at it in retrospect, but she's shocked and invested yet not taking it very seriously as a concern for buck, because well, she's having a baby and this is objectively not that serious comparatively <3 but i do love that she sees buck's reaction and quickly reins it in and is like woah im kidding im not actually being homophobic holy smokes. which. it kinda still is a little. but i think she's allowed <3

and then... josh enters the scene. he apparently only walked in as buck was saying "-kissed a boy" so of course he had to be like huh? gay shit? something gay? boys?? what's going on over here? and i love that for him. and i love that maddie immediately is like oh hi bestie i catch u up to speed on the tea <3 the maddiejosh bestieism is so back we never lose <3 and that fact that she's like. feeding in the facts in a way to dramatically amp up the tale i love it. she really said man the things my baby brother gets himself caught up in are wild.... anyway <3 true sibling behavior is finding the perfect balance between being supportive and being so so annoying <3

and she is supportive still. like when it becomes clear that there's something deeper going on here she does try to help him work through it. and its so interesting to me the way she is sort of seriously contemplating his words and is shocked when josh not only speaks up but is being very serious and equally focused on the problem at hand. it's like... she's trying so hard to figure out how to help her brother with something she doesn't fully understand that having someone else speak up to help them kind of shocks her and boy does that say something about their lives and the buckley sibling dynamic!

side note, the way josh is jokingly like "she didn't bring her personal life to work, unlike SOME people" and maddie's little look of mock offense?? they're so cute i cant handle it.

i also really love how the shots are framed during this conversation. at first, even when she's not talking and is just listening to josh talk, maddie is still in frame, we're still getting her reaction, she's an active participant in what's going on. and then there is the one shot where she's talking and josh is out of frame, hidden by buck, because whatever reaction he might be having isn't important, it's a buckley sibling moment. (he's not an active participant at that point; he's entirely observing and reacting and gathering information, not dictating the direction of the conversation whatsoever.)

it's only when josh gets very serious and it starts to turn into a heart to heart moment just between him and buck that maddie is allowed to leave the frame. it still goes back to her in very brief cuts when her reaction is relevant, but she steps back out of focus and let's josh handle the conversation. and i love that so much. thank GOD someone else is helping buck sort out his problems that isn't his parentified sister or just generally someone more marginalized than him. it was kind of getting irritating to watch, as much as i love buck so much. like dude... the emotional labor. watch it.

and man. this conversation guys. everything about it makes me an insane crazy person. ive already mentioned this in the tags of some other posts but like... its so fascinating because on the surface it is such a cohesive conversation, but when you really break it down and analyze both of their expressions and body language alongside what they're saying, you can start to see the cracks in it. what one of them is saying is not what the other one is hearing, in both directions. they are having two different conversations and i think it's critical to analyze both of those conversations and how they are interacting with each other. what josh says, what josh hears, what buck says, and what buck hears are four entirely separate things happening alongside each other.

the first part is josh trying to get a sense for how serious this relationship is to buck. when buck falters at the question of "do you love him?", he elaborates with follow-up questions that, to josh, define "love" or close enough to it. answering "yes" to those questions is close enough to a "yes" to the question of "do you love him?".

(which. ok. the particular choice of questions makes me insane because they do essentially boil down to "do you prefer this person to solitude and grant them an equal or greater importance to yourself?" which is sooo... it's said from the point of view of someone who greatly values their solitude and would not easily grant someone that level of importance.)

unfortunately, well, buck is NOT someone who greatly values his solitude, and puts other people before himself quite easily. buck would answer "yes" to those questions for basically anyone. josh does not know or understand this about buck and takes buck's answers at face value, while buck is taking this as sort of... it's hard to explain, and i think others have done a better job of capturing buck's perspective already tbh. he's convincing himself that he loves tommy here because josh is unknowingly handing him that information and expectation, and buck loves to mold himself to fit an expectation etc.

and then comes the second part, which... i think this is where it is most critical to realize that josh has none of the context about tommy, abby, and buck and those respective relationships. by his own admission, he didn't really know much about abby or about her breakup with tommy beyond the fact that it was upsetting. he didn't hear the way tommy talked about abby to buck at dinner, and he definitely didn't get to see any of the real fallout and damage to her psyche that tommy leaving her caused.

but buck did! im not inclined to rewatch s1 to get any exact quotes or anything but from what i remember, she either outright said or implied that she was so heartbroken because tommy left her because of her mother's illness. buck is understandably very upset because he understands exactly what she went through and how, unless abby was lying to not out him, he didn't exactly come clean with the breakup, and left her feeling like it was her fault, like there was something wrong with her or she was being weighed down by caring for her mother. he calls tommy's behavior exactly what it is: dishonest and cruel.

but josh doesn't know this. all he is hearing is a young, freshly out bisexual calling a gay man "dishonest and cruel" for having been engaged to a woman for his own protection. and he responds exactly how you'd expect! he reminds him of queer history and the fact that he doesn't really have a right to judge the people who grew up and had to survive in a world that was much less safe to come out in.

(and i said in my other post that's still doing numbers that "pre-Glee/post-Glee" is an actual queer discourse talking point and makes sense that it'd be used here, as awkward and cheesy as it seems, but it's also a win for my television/film/popular media/hollywood culture/etc. as a special interest headcanon. <3 we love to see it)

and it kills me because of course buck is just going to take this at face value and decide he needs to stop feeling the discomfort he's feeling, leading to the subsequent doubling down and over committing that is typical of his unhealthy relationship patterns.

(and then at the end of the speech josh has to literally announce that he's leaving DSJFHJKDSKJ. because walking away/ending conversations is so awkward and difficult and the easiest way to mitigate that is to lean into the Dramatic Homosexual Stereotype mask or whatever <3 i've long been of the opinion that josh is someone who uses the behaviors associated with queer men and queer masculinity as the blueprint for his neurotypical mask, which is why he often comes across as being just a little bit off from the Funny and Bitchy Gay vibes that it seems like he's going for. and boy did his exit from this scene just reinforce that headcanon so hard!)

they wrap the scene with a little bit more levity too which is kind of nice to like. move on from that. because it got kind of heavy there for a second.

overall i do like what this scene accomplished, but like i said at the start, i think it has some really unfortunate implications that weigh it down for me. still, always nice to get more josh content, especially when it's pretty consistent with his character as established AND not at all related to doing his job. we got to see him and maddie being goofy and maddie being allowed to let someone else deal with buck's problems for a second. and the whole thing was very well shot! excellent camera work going on throughout.

i don't actually know how to end this post so yknow. im gonna make a dramatic exit now or whatever <3

[seyaryminamoto]

Any thought on Toph's writing and "arc" in ATLA? I personally think Toph was the most stunted and underdeveloped character. She never really develops at all and is mostly just a walking joke. It's clear that the writers loved her but also clear that they never did anything with her.

If you mean stunted and underdeveloped character in the main cast, definitely yes. A lot of minor characters were done a disservice by the show, given next to no complexity, so I wouldn't rank her as #1 altogether, but among the main cast, absolutely.

Now, I wouldn't say she had zero growth, it's just... not an arc. I also don't think she was only a joke, though they used her for comedy a lot. It's part of why it weirds me out when the fandom acts like Sokka, and only Sokka, was comic relief in ATLA. Toph, Aang, Iroh, even Zuko whenever the narrative wanted to poke fun at him, provided comic relief often, so it's kind of stupid to pretend it was only ever Sokka.

... But that ridiculous perception, then, caused the not-so-funny LOK phenomenon of "Bolin is the funny one", where basically all comedy was meant to be about/around this one character, which didn't work nearly as well as they expected it to, and did nothing for the team's synergy and bonding, but I digress...

What do I think about Toph's story and journey in ATLA?

Toph starts out as a girl who wants nothing more than to be independent and for people to stop underestimating her. When we consider that, in her final action scene in the show, she's clinging by her fingertips to someone else, and that her survival and life depend expressly on HIM, it suggests that she's learned that she doesn't have to go at everything alone, and also that she doesn't have all the answers to all situations. The first time we met her, it doesn't really feel like she wants to work alongside other people, as shown in her conflict with Katara in The Chase, where Toph felt absolutely no need to chip in and help out with anything but her personal needs.

I will say, in Toph's defense about that last thing, it's perfectly common for a child who has spent most her life being cared for, not having anyone expect a single thing out of her, to not understand why she needs to contribute ANYTHING to the team. It doesn't hurt that she's new, which implies that the others have been setting up camp, finding food, traveling across the world, without needing an earthbender's contributions. So it's fairly easy to see her side in this: why does she need to help at all? Why can't they handle things on their own when they always did?

But in her chance encounter with Iroh, Toph is given a chance to think on things and ponder that there's nothing wrong with relying on others. It's so effective that this scene concludes with Toph telling Iroh that maybe he should tell Zuko that he needs him too. This might even be one of Toph's strongest moments in the entire show, honestly. She has no idea who she's talking about, has never met Zuko or Iroh before, but what she tells Iroh doesn't sound like it comes only from having determined that IROH needs Zuko: it sounds like self-reflection, based on Toph realizing that maybe she can open up to needing her friends, too, and working alongside them isn't such a bad thing.

I think this is decent writing. Really!

The issue is... this is about as good as it gets with Toph.

I really like her character, she has a lot of good jokes, some interesting moments of vulnerability here and there, but this scene with Iroh is the only instance of the show I can think back on that actually features Toph questioning her strict ideas and reasoning with them, choosing a different path and abandoning something else she wasn't ready to forsake (complete and utter independence). What's more, this isn't even the kind of growth where Toph has COMPLETELY abandoned her individualistic mentality: she's adjusted it. She allows herself to consider she could be part of a team, to have friends, to work with others, but that doesn't mean she's tied down to them. It never stops feeling like Toph is more than ready to do things on her terms, in her own ways. No matter how much she bonds with the others, she will rely on them exclusively when she needs them (see how she clings to others when she has little to no visibility), or when they need her in combat and such, but outside of such spaces? It's unlikely that Toph will be the type of person who feels the need to be accompanied all the time, who feels better if someone is constantly watching over her. Her friends allow her to find some kind of balance between her need for independence and the comfort of having allies and friends to connect to... but that doesn't mean that she'll never break off on her own when the urge hits her, when the big battles are settled, when problems are resolved.

And I'm the last person to think Yang, of ALL PEOPLE, has any solid understanding of these characters, but whether it was his idea or Bryke's to feature Toph as a teacher, and to have the Gaang drop by to pick her up during The Promise? Ultimately, this just proves she doesn't feel the need to be with Aang, Sokka and Katara non-stop. If even someone like Yang thought she'd go do her own thing (... the quality of what he wrote is, of course, forever in question), down to even leaving her out of The Search entirely? It's clear that they're not trying to promote the idea that Toph is forever clinging to her friends now. She's still independent.

But like I said earlier... this balance Toph finds between her friends and her freedom isn't the product of multiple episodes and lots of hard work and bumping into obstacles to achieve. This... is literally just Toph's second episode. That's the last time the show actually challenged Toph on a PERSONAL level that doesn't involve "becoming a more powerful bender".

Take her relationship with her parents, for instance: the fandom is convinced they were abusive as fuck and that Toph would hate them forever. Ironically, the show DOESN'T promote this notion at all (which makes The Rift kind of insane when compared to the show's treatment of Toph's parents), for it features her parents as two idiots who underestimate Toph immensely and who simply want her to come home and stay out of danger. This could be deemed as abusive in some people's minds, as usual the word needs to be taken more seriously nowadays... they're not good parents, there's no denying that. They don't understand their daughter, outright. They allow their preconceptions of her disability to determine who they think their daughter is. There's nothing in the show that suggests otherwise.

So why, exactly, is it that every instance where Toph considers communicating with her parents or meeting them, she seems to be perfectly content with doing it?

Xin Fu's trap for Toph was completely cemented on the notion that Poppy Beifong had come to visit Ba Sing Se and that she finally accepted her daughter for who she was. Toph's reaction isn't some kind of jaded dismissal because there's noooo way her mom would ever accept her... she outright goes to see her. Which allows Xin Fu to trap her. Which then results in Toph discovering she can metalbend. But the thread that started this whole plotline? It... goes nowhere. Of course, Toph's parents AREN'T there, there's no real reason to assume they've changed, and this was just a trap... but we get no reaction from Toph when it comes to this. We see no conflict. She simply embraces her new abilities and runs back to Ba Sing Se. A quick glance through the transcript shows zero focus or interest in what she went through. Hell, there's not even any acknowledgement that she learned to metalbend. It's all about Aang's struggles with the Avatar State and Katara being in danger.

Next time? The Runaway. A very frustrating and annoying episode. What happens here? Katara decides to dig into Toph's old wounds regarding her parents, tries to psychoanalyze her and decides that all of Toph's rebelliousness against authority boil down to having a bad relationship with her parents. Which... maybe it's true? Doesn't really justify Katara trying to act like her mother anyway? And then the episode ends with Toph asking Katara to help her send a letter to her parents, which sounds like Toph has made her peace with them and like she's ready to accept that she would like them in her life too, and that she wants them to accept who she is. Yay.

... The issue here is there's no follow-up. This doesn't feel like development because nothing comes from it. Nothing really changed. It doesn't come from organic writing either: it comes from Katara's forced "mother friend" role that she didn't use to hold at all (as I said in the ask about why I think Katara loses her appeal as a character the deeper we go into ATLA), and it never actually confronts Toph with her parents again. It doesn't feature a deeper reflection from Toph regarding why she feels the way she does about her parents, nor does it feature Katara realizing that Toph's parents actually did fuck up a LOT with her and that she has every right to push back against them. It merely makes Katara calm down because she realizes the others care about her (while eavesdropping, ofc) and are ready to accept her for who she is... even though she, too, merits a LOT of reflection regarding this mom friend role and nobody else should be comfortable with that, let alone her :'D

Point being, the show really just holds this as the only thing about Toph that wasn't actually resolved, but it acts like it's fine because Toph sent a letter. What growth did we see in Toph that actually means this letter makes all the difference, though? We have no idea how it affected her parents -- as much as Yang acts like it didn't affect them at all, it could have made them rethink some things, or it could have made them mount an even more desperate search for their child, who knows? And it's a pretty solid thread to pull at, to tug loose, to TRULY challenge Toph's character... aaaaaaand they just don't do it at all.

The way I see it, that's really what it boils down to. The show doesn't challenge Toph in any significant way after her... second episode. This isn't the case for most main characters, and I'm not even asking for Toph's story to feature an intense, horrible, super harrowing and difficult plot...! Just, make some things complicated for her. Show her frustrations, show her difficulty to grasp things she hasn't experienced before. Confront her with realities that she, a sheltered girl from a pretty well-off city, has never really needed to face before. Her attitude towards Ba Sing Se is never questioned or challenged narratively: she's constantly proven right about the city being fucked up, and about her reads on all high society people. While all this makes Toph feel smart to a viewer, the issue really comes where this character basically only has her admittedly sizable charisma to win us over. She succeeds! But what does this show give her to work with besides a very quick "I don't wanna work in a team-I learned to work in a team" conflict that is resolved even faster than Sokka's sexism, which pretty much died out within 4 episodes?

There's definitely a component here were Toph is successful not only because of her personality, her abilities, her strength... but also because of the message she conveys regarding disabilities. A LOT of disabled people have clung to Toph as an example and inspiration to not allow whatever ails them to define them or hold them back. Whether the comparison between a blind girl with magical powers and a disabled person of our world without them is valid or not? The effect Toph has had on a lot of viewers who related to her struggles is undeniable. In a sense, it almost feels like the fandom's worship of Toph suggests that in not giving her further challenges on a personal level, they actually hit some kind of jackpot as far as social messages are concerned... but once you actually scope in and pay proper attention to her character, you might find she's got so much more potential that went ignored by this story in favor of presenting her as this unquestionably strong girl who relies on others when she really needs to but otherwise is independent and free from all of society's restraints on her.

Personally, I know this to be the case because of the pushback and reactions my version of Toph in Gladiator initially resulted in. She had no reason to think anything of Sokka and damn near killed him when they first clashed in the Gladiator League... and this horrified a LOT of people! They couldn't BELIEVE Toph could be like this! An older Toph, 7 years older to be precise, who broke free from her parents' hold, struck a bargain with her would-be-captor to get him MORE money than he'd find if he turned her in, and who wanted nothing but to measure her strength against other powerful fighters. If she doesn't have Aang's group's influence on her as early on as when she's 12-years-old, is it REALLY that crazy for Toph's problems with her parents and authority to fester, for her craving for independence to reach new heights, for her readiness to prove herself stronger than anyone to actually be a hazard for other people who stand in her way?

Thus... a lot of the work I've done with this character has been deconstructing these flaws, building her into someone who understands herself better. It's in learning from the examples Sokka and Azula set for her that she starts to realize what kind of person, what kind of LEADER she wants to be. One of my favorite scenes to write about Toph is when she's setting her city free from Fire Nation control, extending her earthbending reach all across Gaoling, putting a stop to the FN army while focusing on creation rather than destruction. On building up her people, on leading her forces with the power of her seismic sense, on capturing the enemy leader, all of it without razing her home city to the ground. Early Gladiator Toph? She wouldn't have cared one bit to join the war to begin with, and if someone had told her that her city, the place she associated with rules, limitations and restraints would be razed to the ground? She might have even encouraged it. Yes, a part of her would have felt guilt over her parents... but she would have been so emotionally stunted that she would have forced herself to ignore any part of her that still cared about them.

And worth noting? One of the biggest personal issues Toph faced was actually nearly killing Azula and Sokka because of her absolute determination to win against them during an event. They were already friends, but they were also each other's biggest rivals in the League... neither side holds back when it comes to this particular competition, and Azula and Sokka had actually beaten Toph and Iroh on their previous encounter! Which meant Toph's desperation for victory was driving her a bit crazy. But once Toph takes it too far at one point, she freaks out. It triggers guilt that actually jumpstarts a much deeper and more complicated arc than anything she'd been through before. Her determination to win at all costs, her pride over her lifelong winning streak within the League... she's suddenly facing the possibility that all this shit she used to cling to, so damn hard, means NOTHING when she could lose two of the people she cares most about if she continues to privilege all that stuff over their wellbeing and safety.

And this doesn't mean that she didn't like fighting as a Gladiator anymore... it means she really came to terms with the fact that other things mattered more. Later on? She realized there are BIGGER fights out there, too, than what's going on in the League: she was the last line of defense against a brutal attack by a rogue waterbender who killed a lot of people and could have killed many more... and after the fact, she spends quite some time worrying about what could have happened if she had failed to protect everyone, if her strength had faltered when she needed it most.

Yes, touting my own horn a lot... but everything I've typed about my own story is exactly why it can even piss me off, at times, to see Toph's potential as a character squandered to the extent it is in canon. I've done so much more with her than they ever did, and granted it's a huge story, but Toph ISN'T the main focus on it and I still managed to give her more to work with than canon ever did. It makes no sense, does it?

I don't think she was given the respect she deserved, and partly, I feel this happened with a lot of female characters who straight-up don't have arcs at all. There's this latent fear that in questioning a character, showing they're flawed, they could become unlikeable... ironic how this is seldom a concern over male characters, but it is with female ones. And mind you: it DOES happen to male characters, because Aang himself is the most egregious example of a male character showcasing flaws and people spiraling over them, turning them into something they never were, all be it to pretend SOMEONE ELSE (*cough* Zuko *cough*) is that much better than him. But they WEREN'T scared of writing Aang into complicated situations that showcased his flaws and resulted in his growth, though. They are with Katara, Toph, Suki, Mai, Ty Lee... :') wonder why, huh?

Ultimately, Toph is a much better character, boiled down to basics, than many characters I tend to talk about and criticize openly. The issue with Toph, for me, isn't really that she fails as a character, or conveys wrong messages, or that the narrative is biased in her favor (though sometimes it is...).

The problem with Toph is she has no chances to truly grow into her own. That her biggest growth comes from a singular conversation with Iroh in episode 2x08 is incredibly unfair to a character who can provide SO MUCH if you simply give her a chance and let her be... human. Flawed. Complex. There's so much more that can be done with her, and if given a chance? She really could have been the best character of the entire show. Too bad they didn't have the guts to let that happen.

[strange-anni]

These are some good points! The number 7 shows up a lot in the show. There is another one that's fairly obvious and shows us that Mike has not forgotten what Will told him. I mean how could he? It was the last thing Will told him before he went missing. Mike wouldn't forget that even if doesn't understand the double meaning (yet).

At the end of season 1 the party defeats a seven-headed monster and then King Tristan hands out the medals of honor to the heroes.

I think it's also noteworthy that in 1983 Will and Mike have been friends for seven years as well.

As you said, Mike needs to figure out what Will said to him on the 6th November in 1983 and he will in season 5. I'm sure of that. It's right under his nose. Like the pen was and the can of 7-up. It'd be funny if it weren't so sad at the same time.

Some discussions on the possibility of Lucas, Dustin, Holly and Nancy being other alters under the cut

As for Dustin and Lucas I am not sure if they are real or not. However I do find it interesting that these two are the ones presenting Will with the option to either protect himself or attack the Demogorgon. Dustin pressuring Will to cast a shield spell and Lucas pressuring Will to attack with a fireball.

(I think it should also be noted that the alarms are already on. As seen in the very first scene in the science lab. The lights are flickering and a man is trying to escape. My guess is that Wills subconsciousness already picked up that the situation can get dangerous due to the looming threat of the (fictional) Demogorgon.)

The big thing with Lucas specifically is that it's him who tells Will that the number doesn't count as long as he doesn't tell Mike. That can just be circumstance as that's what happend in the real world. The dice landed on 7. That's an undeniable fact. However there is for sure also a double meaning behind it as Lucas words can be read as a reminder or even a warning not to spill secrets. As in an alter warning Will that the situation just got dangerous and he needs to be careful. There is also the fact that we don't see Lucas interact with any other member of the Wheeler family. It almost as if he isn't even there.

Same thing could not be said for Dustin though as he at the very least offers Nancy the last piece of pizza they got. This I think might make it more likely that he exists. Neither Lucas nor Dustin interact with Karen though.

I have just thought of this but do you know what would be really depressing? What if both Lucas and Dustin are actually alters and Mike knows about this and doesn't even question it? Like both Will and Mike have been bullied their entire life and don't have any other friends. I don't know if you can play a D&D campaign with only two people and with one of them being the Dungeon Master but I would at least assume that "the more the merrier" also rings true here. What if one day Will brought these two boys along, told Mike he found two friends who can speak through him and Mike just rolled with it and thought it's cool as they can now all play D&D together. If this happened at all both Will and Mike must have been much younger than they were in 1983. All of this is even more speculative than everything else though.

I guess at the very least we can assume that some alters existed before the day Will disappeared as if it's true what you've written in your post, it must have started before the age of 10. Will being seven would fit that criteria.

Back to the Wheelers though.

I agree with you on Holly. She is most likely also another alter. A child one. A little. My guess is that she represents Wills innocence before the ab*se started. In S4 she even has some bunny symbolism surrounding her which does not bode well for her. That toy she has with the lights. She creates a bunny with it.

kaypeace21 made some great points as to what bunny symbolism means in this post. (as you probably already know since I saw that post as a reblog on your blog haha) Still it should be noted that this mostly about Jonathon and not Will although it wouldn't be too far fetched to assume that Lonnie forced Will to do the same thing he forced Jonathan to do.

More speculation on Holly Wheeler but we will be starting S5 in the fall of 1987 and this is just the right time for Holly to be seven (or eight) years old. We also know that someone will disappear in that season in the second episode. I know I'm not the first person to speculate that it might be Holly but I think there is a fair chance she will merge with the system.

Like Sara Hopper who was also child and probably around the same age as Holly before she died of cancer (and merged back into the system)

Bunny symbolism doesn't stop with Holly though. There is Billy Hargrove, Jim Hopper (rabbits do hop) and Janes room in Terrys house had quite a bit of bunny symbolism as well.

And in S4 Nancy also agrees to give Mr. Rabbit away who prior to this was in the attic. (hidden away and out of sight) This is also bunny symbolism but it's different from Holly. Like for Nancy it could mean a loss of innocence she accepts. She is ready to move on from this.

In the first 5 minutes of the show Dustin also notes that Nancy had a shift in personality which Mike denies as "she's always been a real jerk." Is this really just about Steve and Nancy being a sibling to Mike? Or is there something more at play here? The reason why I think it's important is because they spend such a large part of the first minutes of the show to tell us all of this. This is the time before things got weird. Before Will told Mike in a coded manner. It's the time where things are as normal as they can be. I feel it has to mean something but I can't say what exactly. Nancy is just huge puzzle I can't understand.

(I mean yeah of cause she could also be an introject alter which is probably the case but that raises the question as to who the real Nancy is?)

Thoughts?

[wonder-worker]

Thinking about Elizabeth Woodville as a gothic heroine is making me go insane. She entered the story by overturning existing social structures, provoking both ire and fascination. She married into a dynasty doomed to eat itself alive. She was repeatedly associated with the supernatural, both in terms of love and death. Her life was shaped entirely by uncanny repetitions - two marriages, two widowhoods, two depositions, two flights to sanctuary, two ultimate reclamations, all paralleling and ricocheting off each other. Her plight after 1483 exposed the true rot at the heart of the monarchy - the trappings of royalty pulled away to reveal nothing, a never-ending cycle of betrayal and war, the price of power being the (literal) blood of children. She lived past the end of her family name, she lived past the end of her myth. She ended her life in a deeply anomalous position, half-in and half-out of royal society. She was both a haunting tragedy and the ultimate survivor who was finally free.

[dariusaurs]

i think dinostar is such an interesting ship right now even if i've kind of turned away from it after this season. the problem is that it's complicated, and fandoms historically don't like nuanced situations or takes. i don't think it's fair to say darius is putting brooklynn on a pedestal, since from his perspective, she hasn't done anything wrong, and kenji has been framed as this unfair partner to her. it does feel like his feelings are very immature and more of an infatuation right now ("if he loved you half as much.."/"unless?"), especially when you compare them to kenji's own feelings for brooklynn - his girlfriend who he's loved for 6 years - but that isn't a horrible thing, it's just different. i do completely understand if people dislike the ship right now, and even criticize darius' way of handling the accidental confession, but i just think people have been way too harsh on all three of them without being willing to see that all of their perspectives are different

[obbystars]

im allowed to be upset boothill didn’t get an animation but the woman advertised as a dom mommy did