#there were several times where i wondered about my own sanity | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

14thgalerie · 1 year

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dreamin' of him

• pairing: theodore nott x reader

• now playing: a little death by the neighbourhood / fuck it i love you by lana del rey

• word count: 5.7k

• genre: fluff

— a part of this is inspired by this scenario i saw on tiktok, can't exactly remember it which vid it was. anyways enjoy this little random scenario that i'm pretty sure is horrible because i didn't bother to proofread it again.

You shot right up from your sleep, limbs tangled in the sheets that had been strewn about haphazardly. The room is still as dark as it had been when you fell asleep with only the faint light of the full moon serving as your guiding light.

You drop your head onto your hands that sit on your folded knees, pressing the heels of your palm into your eyes until you can only see white. Ignoring the pain only so that you can be rid of the images that keep flashing in your mind.

It was excruciating, it played like a broken VHS record on your parents’ television back home. Every millisecond, a frame of you in such a vulnerable embrace with–

No. Y/N, stop it.

You were grappling with your sanity, feeling yourself incredulous at how such an idea came to fruition in your mind. Several nights’ on the end of this senseless, out-of-the-world dream that popped out of nowhere. The both of you hardly spoke with one another, for Merlin’s sake.

Throwing your head back, giving up on forcing the images out of your thoughts. Your head was spinning. Slamming your temple against the solid, wooden headboard behind you until you hear a ring resonating through your ears.

How did you let yourself get into this? What happened that you are being haunted— if that’s what you would even call it — by these dreams?

It’s been days of sleepless nights and you are plain tired. He must have cursed you. There was no other reason for this, right? He could be annoying when he wanted to be.

With your back resting on the headboard, you see that your dorm mates haven’t gotten back yet. Still, you remain seated as you wonder where they are, staring at the open window to your right.

“You’re the only one that can do this to me, Y/N…”

You gasp and sit straight, slapping your forehead with your open palm, trying to chase the image away. Throwing a glance at your watch that sits on the bedside table, you see that it’s only an hour and a half before you are supposed to wake up.

Exhaling loudly, you shove the blankets away from your body, feeling a warmth creep up on you. Maybe a good, cold, and long shower will distract you for good.

Grabbing a change of clothes, you head straight for the bathroom in your dorm. Now’s one of the few times you are glad that the dorms at Hogwarts have their own showers.

Looking at the small, worn mirror above the sink, you chuckle humorlessly at how disheveled your appearance is. Anyone who sees you right now might think that your dreams are last night’s reality.

Stepping under the painful cold water, your body unconsciously jolts at the shock.

Thinking about it makes your heart race. It gives you jitters, too. The feeling wasn't much to your liking. It was distracting. Not to mention it made you feel so... vulnerable. A shiver ran up your spine. You paused for a breath to calm your heightened nerves.

This has to end soon. You couldn’t stand another night spent thinking of him, of all people.

“I uh- I need to go.” You cough, clearing your throat, hands shaking slightly as you move to stand up. “I still have this essay for Potions.”

“What- Hey wait, Y/N!” Harry reaches out, nearly missing your arms.

“Why are you suddenly running off? It’s not due until next week?” Giving you a worried look. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, Harry. I feel extraordinarily perfect, I just- I wanna go back to my room right now.” You sigh, looking up at him. Your body remains tense under his tight grip. “So please let me go.”

Harry tries to not look disappointed, giving a quick glance back at your two other friends who watch you in silence. “Alright then, but if you need anything, you know where to find us.”

Giving him a small nod before pivoting in your heel, you walked straight to the Great Hall's large entryway. You ignored the way your skin burned with the intensity of the searing eyes that had locked onto you since its entry.

“Why did you leave in such a hurry?” A cool voice asks from behind you.

You freeze.

“Pardon?” You conjure up a reply, bluntly.

“Ok- what’s got your knickers in a twist?”

“Nothing!” You reply defensively. Wanting nothing more than to be back within the confines of your dorm room.

“Alright, alright. I got it.” The cool, calm voice waves off an erratic rhythm to your heart. You continue to stare forward along the corridor, paying no mind as he circles around until there is a face attached to the voice. “I was just wondering why you skittered out of the Hall faster than when you were caught by Filch with the Weasley twins.”

Tilting your chin towards your chest, “What do you want, Nott?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged, “I was just curious, that is all.”

You scoff at the mockery clear in his tone. “Seriously, what is it? Because if you’re only here to be an annoying twat, I have better places to be.”

You purposely bump into his shoulder as you make your way past him. Not in the mood to play along with him right now. Not when that stupid smirk of his is reeling images that you have been tirelessly trying to be rid of. Images that are the cause of your cranky attitude in the mornings.

From the corner of your eyes, you see him cock his head slightly to the right. Another thing you hate. He becomes more incessantly annoying when you are visibly annoyed by him.

“Nott.” You warn.

“What?“ He asks, amusement clear in his tone. “Am I not allowed to walk the same grounds that you do now?”

“Walk elsewhere. I am quite sure that you know of other paths from here to wherever you are to go. With your many endeavors, it’ll be stupid if you didn’t.” You murmur the latter under your breath.

“What was that?” He catches up to you, walking leisurely with his long legs. “Didn’t quite hear that last part properly.”

Before you could reply, a shout from the courtyard called both of your attention. A redhead girl from Ravenclaw was waving in your direction. You turn to look at Theodore who has now turned his sight back to you.

“I think she’s waiting for you.” You swiftly walk towards your house tower, making haste before he follows you again.

Unbeknownst to you, his stare remains fixated on you until your figure disappears around the corner. Only then does he wave back at the girl and make a quick return to the Hall where he left his friends mid-conversation.

It wasn’t the last that you see of Theodore after, nor was it the last morning when you woke up groggy and irritated at the lack of sleep. It seems that since then, the both of you find yourselves orbiting each other much more often than before.

Not that you found it all disappointing.

There were times that he was a good companion to have around— forget the hooded eyes that left you conscious every time. When he isn’t being an annoying twat, he knew how to hold a conversation with you; your lack of similarities is a good point as you were able to share things that the other didn’t know of.

But in truth, Theodore searched for you. In the boisterous chatters of students in the corridors, between the towering bookshelves of the library, through the window of the dimly lit Potions classroom where he has a clear view of Hagrid’s hut where you and your friends frequent.

He looks for you in all places, unable to help himself from an attempt to have a glimpse of you.

He did give his best efforts to tuck away his inexplainable attraction to you recently, and he wouldn’t dare admit that there is even a chance that he does. His denial was a fortress but cracks appeared within its walls with each time he talks to you.

“She’s at the Hospital Wing.” Blaise hesitatingly brings up.

He almost jerks up from his comfortable position on the couch where he and Blaise are observers of their other friend’s drunken endeavors. But he manages to grab a hold of himself before the other notices.

“Why bother telling me?” His forced indifference is not as apathetic as he wished it to be. “I don’t care.”

“Oh shut up, Theo. I have never seen you so utterly fond of another girl like you do with her.” Blaise retracts back to what he was gonna say, “Anyways, I hear she will be a volunteer ahead of the Quidditch match this Sunday.”

He doesn’t reply, letting the words of his friend slip from one ear to another. You were interesting. He was unsure how, in the many years you’ve known one another, that you caught his eye now.

“She’s nice, not unlike some of her friends at Gryffindor.” Blaise continues with his taunting, eager to see a reaction from Theo. “Even managed to convince me to be her partner for Herbology.”

Theo makes a noise in a mix between a scoff and a chuckle. “From the sound of how you speak of her, it’s like you’re the one that has caught butterflies.”

Blaise simply hums, nodding to himself. “Maybe.”

Not another word slips from him again. The silence of his relinquishment makes Theo’s heart skip a nervous beat. Blaise never gives up that easily.

“Hello there.” A voice makes you look up from your book which you have been drowned in since hours ago. To your surprise, it was Blaise.

“What are you doing here?” You ask. Curious why he had so suddenly appeared beside you while you were studying. You scour your brain, trying to remember if you had a project with him that ultimately passed by you.

“Go to Hogsmeade with me later.” Blaise blurts out while you gather your books that are scattered along the table.

“Huh?” You look up at him with wide eyes. You give out a confused laugh. Maybe you didn’t understand him, right? “Did I hear you right? Hogsmeade? The two of us?”

“Well, don’t make it sound like it’s such an atrocious thing.” He makes a sound of mock offense; even making the choice to put a hand above his chest. To which you vehemently shake your head.

“Gosh no! It’s just-“ You trail off. “Why all of a sudden?”

“Nothing at all…” He shrugs, but that look on his face tells you entirely different. The mischievous expression that is ever so slightly slipping through. “Just wanted to hang out with a good friend of mine.”

You look at him with a confused frown, unsure of what he’s doing. “Since when were we good friends? Last I checked we only talked every now and then and it was really only just for projects.”

“Just come with me, will you?”

“No.” You shake your head to further make your point. “Tell me why first and maybe I’ll consider.”

Blaise sighs, giving up. He had expected that you would not be giving in so easily to his request, after all, you weren’t really that close. But he still thought that it was worth the try, he is tired of Theo acting like he’s better than his emotions. He decides to tell you.

Well… somewhat.

“Alright, lady. I want to make a friend of mine jealous.” You hummed, listening intently. Wondering why he chose you to do it. “Also, because you’re the only person that I genuinely enjoy hanging with from other houses.”

“Will you tell me who’s the friend?” You ask.

“No.” He quickly replies, “But Y/N…I’ll treat you with anything you want at the Three Broomsticks or wherever else. Just please.” He draws out the please, adding hints or really a dump load of sweetness to it to charm you.

You think for a second more before finally giving him a nod. “Ok, but you’ll have to come with me to Honeydukes. Payback for doing whatever it is you’re planning.”

“You can have whatever you want. I’ll wait for you by the Fat Lady.” Blaise tells you before walking off with a huge grin on his face.

“Y/N?”

And when you turned your head, a surprised Blaize looked at you with a smile, apparently he had just been in mid-conversation with a fellow Slytherin as he hung about the entrance.

He whistled as he wasted no time approaching you, waving a curt goodbye to his previous companion.

“Remind me why you never wear clothes other than your uniform?” He asks, his eyes unabashedly trailing over you. Though not in a predatory way that leaves you uncomfortable.

“Because it’s a hassle having to think of an outfit when I could just put a uniform on and call it a day.”

He hums, nodding as he thought about it.

“Well you look good in your non-school clothes, you should wear them more often.” He suggests, although he quickly amends it. “Not that I’m saying you don’t look great normally, it’s just nice to see how you would personally choose the clothes you wear. It kind of reflects a lot of your personality more.”

The two of you make no rush as you travel to Hogsmeade along with the other students, chuckling at the eager third-years who are freely roaming around. Engaging in small talk all the way.

“What’s got you in such a sour mood?” You rolled your eyes at Theo, who has done nothing but glare at Blaise who sits beside you with such harsh blinding venom. “If all you plan to do here is to murder Blaise in a million ways inside your mind, then please do it some other time.”

The man beside you couldn’t help the amused choke that escapes him as he sips his glass of Butterbeer.

Theo finally breaks his lone stare down and shifts his attention to you. “Since when did you two hang about by yourselves?”

“We always have-“ Blaise starts to explain but he is cut off by a kick to his shin that makes his knee jerk up and hit the table.

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

His eyes remained fixated on you still, a medley of emotions behind them that you couldn’t exactly pinpoint.

“Well, Y/N? I’m waiting for you here.” He impatiently asks. “Are you two on a date?”

“Theo, if you think that we are, then why did you even come here?” You roll your eyes at whatever antics that the both of them are trying. Not realising that you called him by his nickname, usually reserved for his close friends.

“Well-“ He stammered, unable to explain why exactly did he approach you all of a sudden. “Blaise doesn’t have that good of a reputation with girls and I wanted to make sure he’s not trying anything with you.”

Blaise clears his throat in an attempt to remind his friend that he is still sitting at the table, clearly within earshot of whatever slander he’s being put to.

“I can hardly think of a reason why you would if he does, but we were just having a conversation as friends, Theo.” You finally answer. “Is it that much of a surprise that I tolerate one of you?”

“He wants it to be him.” The man beside you mutters under his breath which you ignore, thinking it is only a jab.

Theo once again kicks Blaise under the table, making the latter swear under his breath.

While the two of them bicker like they are some man-child, you spot Hermione and the rest of your friends coming in through a tiny door and sitting at a table by the staircase. You scoot over until you are out of the seat, glad that you chose to sit at the open end of the table, without making a noise.

You make quick haste to transfer to your friends' table without garnering attention from the two Slytherin boys.

“Hide me.” You drop your heavy body on the seat beside Harry, trying your best to hunch over his relatively short upper body.

The three instead laugh at your obvious demise, Ron not even trying to hide his amusement with such a burst of boisterous laughter. Unlike you, the three had noticed how Theodore Nott had been seen beside you much more often than necessary. At first, it was nothing that they really paid attention to, but when you told them of your otherwise eventful dreams…they began to have other thoughts.

It was clear that both of you were attracted to one another except for yourselves. And it’s been a hilarious sight to be an audience to but they are beginning to tire of your constant zoning off when the other is in your peripheral.

“What even is with you and Blaise coming to Hogsmeade together?” Ron asks. “I thought you liked Nott.”

You exhaled in exasperation, “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t like him.” Gritting your teeth and clenching your jaw at the blatant teasing. “I am seriously beginning to regret telling you about my dreams.”

You watch as Harry stands to grab drinks for the rest of you guys, trying to explain why you came here. Not forgetting to mention how Theo had suddenly the conversation you’ve been having with Blaise.

You were shocked to find that the both of you actually shared a lot of the same interests in various aspects; books, music, values, name it all. So despite your previous disinclination to agree with his idea that you would get along well, you thoroughly enjoyed the short time that you spent alone.

His genuine interest in the many muggle creations that you’ve mentioned has made you all giddy. Telling him of all and everything that he must try, making a mental note to give him some things that you have in your dorm.

On the other end, Blaise shared a few of his interests with you— though it was only very few, given that the wizarding world does not really pay much attention to those kinds of things, especially the purebloods.

“So just because he bribed you with anything you want from Honeydukes, you agreed? Y/N!” Hermione exclaims, to which you only answer her with wide eyes.

“What?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows at the bewildered expression on her face.

“You’ve been to Hogwarts for how many years now and yet you have no idea what going to Hogsmeade with only one person insinuates?”

“Uh- What?”

“That you two are going on a date of course?” She practically scolds you. Maybe you shouldn’t laugh at Ron anymore when she becomes like this. It's no joke that it feels like you could be the stupidest person on the planet.

“We’re only friends, for Merlin’s sake! Well, we became friends today.” You roll your eyes. “It’s not my fault that is what might people think.”

Harry and Ron look at each other with more than amused grins on their faces.

“I think I finally know why Nott was practically making the snow melt under his feet earlier,” Ron remarks. To which you give him a confused look, unsure what he meant.

“What?”

“Well, before we came in here, we saw Nott almost stomp his way to here. I swear that I actually saw steam coming out of his ears.” Ron exaggeratingly shares, taking a sip out of his pint glass. “I thought he was about to burn this place down to ashes with how he looked so mad.”

That explains why he’s being more moody than usual.

“What’s that got to do with Blaise and I?” You finally ask the question that’s been brewing in you since he mentioned it.

But the only response you get is a look of disbelief from all three of them. Each one just about screaming “Are you being serious?” without saying anything.

“Are you truly that dense Y/N?” Harry asks, his hand reaching out to pat you on the shoulder.

You push him off, glaring at him. “No, but seriously what do you mean?”

“Even Harry and Ron, oblivious as they come, recognise that Nott has some kind of interest in you.” Hermione explains, “I don’t even know if he realised it himself but the two of you are oozing love hearts everywhere you go. It’s torture to see how you both ignore it.”

You're left dumbfounded, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment at the mere suggestion. Your thoughts racing as you consider Hermione's words. Theodore Nott, the mysterious and enigmatic Slytherin, having an interest in you? It was a revelation that sent your mind reeling, and you couldn't help but wonder if you had been completely oblivious to his feelings all along.

No. That’s just… wrong. This had to be another one of their pranks again. Ever since you confided in them of your dreams, they’ve been ceaselessly teasing you with Theo. Yeah, this must be it.

You chose to respond in a haughty tone, in an attempt to mask her flustered feelings. “Gosh, if this is what spurs in your minds when I tell you about my struggles at night, then I’d rather just keep them to myself from now on. Find something else to speculate about.”

Unbeknownst to you, while you were so flustered trying to deny anything and everything they say of you and Theo, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had mentally orchestrated a plan. Harry subtly made a signal to the other two to play along as he saw Theo stand up from his heated conversation with Blaise to approach you four.

With sly smiles quickly masked, they leaned in closer to you and feigned curiosity.

“Alright then,” Ron begins, “But I heard from Hermione that you had another dream last night. Is it as juicy as last time?”

Harry chimed in, his eyebrows raised suggestively. “Yes, please spill the details. We’re all ears.”

Caught off guard by their sudden and out-of-place interest. “I said that I’m never telling you of anything again. And it's not juicy! Please don't ever use that word ever again.” You never wanted to divulge anything related to your rather steamy dreams again to your friends.

“This is the last time, we promise! And we promise to not annoy you any more with Nott.” Hermione exclaims though you reach out to slap her on her arm at how loudly she said it. Looking around the bustling crowd to see if anyone heard it, confused when you see Blaise sitting with somebody else now, probably some friends from Slytherin, Theo nowhere in sight.

Little did she know that Theo had indeed overheard their conversation and as he was slowly nearing their table, curiosity piqued as he heard his name. He slowed in his steps, waiting to hear more.

Your face turned an even deeper shade of crimson as you think back to last night, a bit different— a whole lot different. The dream had left you truly confused because it was nothing like the otherwise steamy ones you had. It was unsettlingly normal, and it has left you with a sense of unease that left you unable to sleep properly, terrified at what this means.

You cleared your throat, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. "Well, it was just a, you know, like the ones I told you. Nothing too different. I still hate it."

Hermione's eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in, feigning innocence. "From the look on your face, it seems to be different. Tell us about it, pretty please."

You hesitated but then began to describe the dream in the most vague and unassuming way possible, but you knew no matter what you said, they would use this to tease you endlessly. "Alright, alright. So, in the dream, I was in the Black Lake, and there was a gentle, warm breeze. I was walking with someone, and it was peaceful. It was like…everything is normal. No war, no problems, no animosity, just us walking like any normal person.”

Harry and Ron exchanged knowing glances, while Hermione continued to prod gently. "And who were you walking with, Y/N?"

Your gaze darted around the table, avoiding eye contact. Not seeing how their eyes slightly shifted behind you. "Well, it was just someone... you know, a dream version of someone I know. Like you don’t know already."

Hermione shook her head, “Yeah but this is different, so it must be somebody else right?”

“Hermione…It’s Theo, who else.”

"Y/N…" You hear a voice behind you call out in a low tone, with a thread of voice.

Your eyes widen, filled to the brim with alertness and humiliation. Your mother was right, one day this mouth will get you in trouble— not that it hasn’t been proven countless times before— but now nothing made you want to become more one with the ground than this moment.

You swallow hard and turn around, instantly the mortification in your features becomes tenfold. There it is— the stupid, bloody smirk that is always present on his stupid, pretty face when he has caught you red-handed.

“Don’t.” You warn.

He leans his entire weight back on the wooden post behind him, staring down at you with a look of satisfaction, unapologetically reveling in your obvious embarrassment.

“Oh, but I must.” He drawls, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Your frustration surges as you fold your arms, attempting to salvage a shred of dignity in this awkward moment. You give him a glare before turning back front facing to the table.

“You are truly insufferable, you know that?”

Without even being able to see it, you already know that his grin widens at your reply. “Guilty, I’m afraid.”

Theo pushed himself off the wooden post and sauntered closer to where you were sitting, making your heart stutter. The playful glint in his eyes brings forth an image that you would rather not see right now.

"But what's the fun in letting you off the hook so easily? It’s not every day that I find out somebody has been kept awake all night because of me."

You could only continue to cast a withering look at him as you shook your head. "You just love tormenting me, don't you?"

He sits down on the seat next to you, ignoring the other occupants who have reserved to remain quiet. Truly enjoying the show that you, unfortunately, are the star of. He inches closer to you until you can almost feel your eyelashes flutter at his breath.

“Only because I quite enjoy how flustered you can be.” He admits softly, and in that moment the playful teasing in his voice gives way to something else.

A different kind of tension.

Not one that you would like to be a part of.

“Well, that would be the last of it.”

Theo and your friends are left bewildered when you suddenly stand and disappear among the group of rowdy students.

His eyebrows furrow and his gleaming expression turns into one of confusion and a hint of hurt and disappointment. “What just happened?”

When he finally turns to look at your friends, all they do is share uneasy glances with each other. They were unsure of how to respond to Theo’s question when they could hardly comprehend what had only occurred.

Hermione opens her mouth to say something but closes it once more when the words in her mind are a jumble.

“Astronomy Tower.” He hears someone say. His cerulean blue eyes that somehow turned grey shifted to the bespectacled boy sitting a chair away from him. “Go.”

“Why did you run off?” You ignore the voice that shatters the silence. The bristles of the wind brush against your clothes. Your head thrumming as the sound of your shoes clicking against the concrete permeates into the air.

He calls you by your name with a gentleness that sends tingles down your spine. But yet again, you ignore him. Choosing to stare intently at the rust that forms by the railing in front of you, the complex chemical reaction is seemingly more interesting to you now.

“Y/N please…I don't know what’s going on your mind right now but we need to talk.” He moves to stand next to you, placing his arms on the barrier. “I will say it, no matter if you want to listen or not. We clearly have feelings for each other.”

You want to say that you are surprised that he is being so straightforward right now, but it’s evident that someone had to stop whatever dance the both of you had been playing at for the past month already.

“And that’s confirmed by what I heard earlier.” He chuckles in an attempt to lighten up the mood. “Gods, I hate you so much.”

“Your dreams say otherwise.” He continues with his teasing.

“Stop it. As if you’re any better with how you acted with Blaise earlier.” You hit him back. “Blaise is an annoying ass who meddles in my business way more often than necessary. But I guess he did one thing right.”

“What?” You ask, turning your body to lean on the railing, facing him.

“He kept bothering me about you, and I guess he got tired and decided to make a move leading us to this moment.”

“He can be pretty persuasive when he wants to be." You agree. Silence befalling after.

“Gods, I don’t know what happened but it’s you.” He breathes heavily.

A laugh escapes your chest, “If somebody came to us two months ago and told us that we’d be acting like this, I would think they’re mental.”

Theo grins at you, making you giggle to see the little fang on the corner of his mouth. He places his hands on your cheeks and cradles your face, making a move to press his forehead to yours as he nears.

The vivid, flashing images of Theo from your dreams doesn’t hold a candle to the real thing. The skin under his touch tingled and it made you itch to reach out with your fingertips, feeling as if you would crumble beneath his hands.

You pull away to stare up at him. The cold that typically veils over his eyes are gone as they reciprocate your stare with an even warmer touch. Every nerve ends in you lighting up with a golden electricity.

Theo opened his mouth, closed it again, opened it once more, and then shut it, apparently struggling to remember how to talk.

So, he decided that actions seem to be your thing anyways, as the two of you are quite horrible at talking.

Carefully, almost as if he’s never done it before, Theo leans forward and presses his lips against yours so gently. All you can think about is him even as you respond to his kiss, melting against the touch.

He pressed himself into you, attempting to tangle your bodies together. He wants to feel every inch of you against his skin, willing the gods to let you be one. Hell, he wanted to climb into your ribcage and possibly live out the rest of his days inside your heart.

You gasp as his hands creep under your shirt and trail along your lower back, though he doesn’t wander. He takes this as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, exploring eagerly.

You tilt forward, answering his devotion with an equal eagerness. In your distraction, your hands slide from their hold on his shirt and travel until your fingertips meet behind his nape.

This goes for a while before a sudden splash from the waters below you makes you jump apart, though still very much physically attached. His arms were still tightly wound around your waist.

“I think that’s a sign we should stop for now.”

“Yeah, definitely.”

Laughter met in the air between you—sweet, short, intertwined. Although you would like to have another one of your dreams to come true, you want to take it slow. The idea that he thought of you as you did to him has still not truly sunk into your mind.

Even now as he leans his face slightly towards yours again and begins to leave soft, tender kisses all over your cheek, making butterflies appear in your stomach.

“Gods, I just realised something.” You laugh all of a sudden, making him stand up straight to look at you curiously. “What is it?”

“I just made Ron win a bet for the first time since we all became friends.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he was the first person to tease me about these stupid dreams–”

“Excuse me, I rather think it’s not.” He interrupts playfully raising an eyebrow. “Shush.”

“Anyways,” You continue, “Harry and Hermione initially thought it was nothing and that it probably would stop after a while— obviously not. So Ron set a bet that I’ll end up having feelings for you or we’ll end up together.”

He chuckles, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I’m still surprised they didn’t hate the idea. With us being in literal houses that hate each other.”

“They’re only annoyed at some of you, honestly. The ones that perpetuate the ‘Slytherin’ motto too much.”

"Plus," he continued, the joking tone in his voice fading a bit, "even if they did have complaints, I would have ignored every single one and still pursued you."

“As if! You stormed to Hogsmeade just to interrupt our ‘date’ and you wouldn’t even admit it. If it weren’t for what our friends did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

“Let me pretend, for goodness’ sake woman!”

His playful exasperation brought a genuine smile to your face, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade as you got lost in the playful banter you're used to with him.

masterlist

#harry potter #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott angst #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott fanfiction #slytherin #theodore nott oneshot

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rejectedbytheempty · 4 months

Note

Request: How about there being a difference between Simon Riley and Ghost?? GN reader having the privilege of knowing Ghost as a man who bleeds and the immortal legend of horror. They’ve gotten close enough (never close enough to be considered a relationship, but platonic enough to be essential to each other’s sanity, Simon’s always been at a distance) and are roommates off base/out of service.

There’s a severe thunderstorm coming — and Simon Riley doesn’t particularly like the clashing winds and thunder. It feels like the house is rattled and threatening to come down. (C-PTSD? Angst with comfort? Simon becomes little spoon? Make some tea to comfort him? Maybe?)

a/n: oh dear, this made me weirdly sad while writing this?? like i almost cried, i think it’s bc i’m on my period. also, sorry, didn’t really include the thunderstorm thing?? i can write a separate fic for that if you want!!!

Anyone who knows Ghost knows that there is a difference between Ghost and Simon Riley.

For example, you always thought that Ghost looked taller than Simon, even though you knew it was physically impossible. Even when wearing the same boots, Ghost just seemed larger.

At first, you were, to put it mildly, scared shitless of Ghost. The way he towered over everyone, his hulking presence looming behind you as he watched you silently. He would stare, never seemed to blink. People joked that he was cataloguing information, gathering everyone’s strengths and weaknesses. When you were in the field it scared you just how quiet he was, how easy it was for him to slip into the shadows. Didn’t help that he never talked to you much in the beginning, except for the occasional grunt of acknowledgement.

The day you finally met Simon was when you both were on a reconnaissance mission. Somehow, everything went south and in the chaos, Ghost was hit. He had grumbled about leaving him behind, but you saw it, the slight look of fear in his eyes. This was a man who realized just how close to death he was, who had a human desperation to live that choked his words. You ended up basically dragging him to the extraction point, where you both promptly passed out.

Ever since that day, Ghost had become Simon. You saw the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled behind his mask. The way that he loved to make stupid jokes. How he bounced his leg in long meetings.

In the months following, he and you had become close friends. When you had been looking for an apartment off base, it had been only natural to live with Simon. You two each had your own bedroom but it had become habit to share the bed, limbs entangled, chests rising and falling in sync. It scared away the nightmares.

Everyone at base was always trying to figure out what your deal was with Ghost, asking if you were dating. You just shrugged, leaving them to wonder. It was strange, what you had with Simon, you knew that. Weirdly codependent. It didn’t bother you, you were perfectly fine with how things were. You didn’t need anything more than your quiet moments, your quick hand squeezes, the times you had traced the scars on his face with your finger.

You had Simon Riley, and he had you, and that was enough.

#simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost x reader #ghost x gn!reader #simon riley x gn!reader #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #gn!reader #platonic!ghost x reader #platonic!simon riley x reader #platonic!reader

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aydience-world · 1 month

Text

Kai Chisaki's past headcanons

Since we won’t be getting any additional info anymore and for the sake of my own sanity, I have decided to create my own headcanon of Kai Chisaki’s past in detail and how he came to be the man we know as Overhaul based on the few crumbs we got in the manga.

*Kai was born to a less than average income family and his parents also have similar deconstruct or reassemble quirks, although to much more limited matter.

*Overhaul is a complex quirk and young Kai initially struggled, especially with the reconstruction part. He would attempt to break down and repair his toys but fail more often than not. His parents were uncaring and did not make any effort to support or help their son improve his skill.

*A freak accident happens one day and Kai accidentally deconstructs one of his parents. Frightened, he tries to undo this accident but fails and his parent ends up completely disfigured. The remaining parent freaks out and says some atrocious things to him, similar words Overhaul used to say to Eri. (Ex. “Your existence is a curse”, etc.). I hc this happened when he was around 6-7 years old.

*Following this incident, the remaining parent takes their broken spouse and Kai to a quirk doctor, Dr Garaki, or another doctor associated with him. The doctor takes great interest in Kai’s ability and sees him as a potential candidate as one of AFO’s spare children. The parent wants to get rid of Kai asap and the doctor gladly takes him into the orphanage. Kai would be living there for several years.

*In the orphanage, Kai has to undergo a series of tests and exercises by making him use his quirk on objects, lab animals and sometimes even other children. This is where Kai begins to become more proficient in using his quirk, on both physical and living matter.

*The abandonment from his parents and the grotesque nature of the experiments causes Kai to fall into deep depression and existential crisis. At this point in his life, he hates his quirk and wonders why he was born with it, why was he born at all? He starts questioning everything. Where does this ability come from? Why do people like him exist? Why is the world this way in the first place?

*During one of the experiments, Kai brings up one of his questions to Dr Garaki, who answers what scientists currently know and while there is no concrete evidence, there are several theories, one of them being the mice theory which deduces that quirks are a virus originating from mice. He refers Kai to the small library in the orphanage.

*Kai then proceeds to read several books and science journals about this quirk phenomenon to understand the origin of quirks and the current state of humanity and studies the mice theory. To him, it all comes together. Quirks are a plague, a virus which comes from dirty animals which explains why quirks mutate so rapidly. Among all the material he has read, this had to be the truth because it made the most sense. The reason why he’s the way he is and the reason why his parents abandoned him. He realized they are all infected and quirks don’t have any cure. This realization drives him into a frenzy and he develops a germaphobia, specifically against quirk users, since they will always remind him of the mice theory.

*Due to his phobia, Kai develops a further disgust for people and keeps to himself, avoiding other children in the orphanage. He prefers to keep to himself and read books, learning new things about science and the world. He never formed any meaningful relationships in the orphanage.

*After some time Tenko was born, AFO began searching for the right quirk in the orphanages that he could give him to make Tenko an ultimate weapon of destruction and hate. Thanks to all the tests and experiments, Kai’s quirk catches AFO’s attention and he instructs Garaki to make a stronger copy of Overhaul but remove the reassemble part since the quirk should only be used to destroy.

*This time, Garaki needs to restrain Kai in order to extract his quirk genes to make a copy that focuses on the deconstruction part and enhance it, which would eventually become Decay. This would be done by Dr Garaki extracting blood and small pieces of flesh from Kai.

*Now, this experiment was not simply just to make a copy and remove the secondary function, the deconstruction part needed to be much more destructive at a much faster rate and unlike Overhaul, which only affects a single target, Decay has to affect multiple targets through a domino effect. It takes numerous tries to achieve this outcome. Other children would be given the copy to test it and many would perish in the creation of this quirk.

*The continuous pain and physical contact during the experiment leaves Kai in a frenzy and he completely breaks out in hives multiple times throughout the process. Regardless, the experiment continues until Decay turns out the way Garaki and AFO envision. This trauma continues until adulthood and he now breaks out in hives whenever someone touches him.

*At last, Decay is complete and AFO proceeds to give it to Tenko. Garaki doesn’t bother healing Kai because he knows Kai can fix himself. He is released back into the orphanage but has to stay there in case AFO needs any adjustments. He is still traumatized from the experiment and hates his quirk even more. He blames his quirk more than Garaki.

*Tenko’s quirk activated for the first time which meant the experiment was a success for AFO and Garaki. AFO informs Garaki about the progress and he leaves the orphanage to help him with the preparations of grooming Tenko. (Tenko was 5 years old when this happened so Kai is 12 at this point). A substitute is assigned to the orphanage during Garaki’s absence but they don’t really come through. Only a handful of kids are left since most of them died during the creation of Decay. With all the attention on Tenko, the children left at the orphanage are neglected and left to starve.

*Eventually Kai has enough and uses his quirk to escape. He runs into the night, not looking back or stopping until his legs can’t take it anymore. He wonders why he didn’t escape sooner but realizes he has nowhere to go and wanders aimlessly alone through the streets at night.

*He has a small panic attack and hives outbreak but this is overshadowed by hunger and fatigue. Eventually exhaustion takes over and he slumps down against a wall in an alley, falling asleep on the street.

*He wakes up the next morning, covered in dust and dirt from the ground but the raging hunger is too distracting to care. He looks for food but no one is willing to help this dirty kid. He considers going through trash but can’t bring himself to and goes on hungry.

*It’s already afternoon and only then does someone notice Kai. A middle-aged man calls his attention, offering to help him get home. Realizing this child doesn’t have a home, he adopts Kai and makes him part of the Shie Hassaikai. To Kai, this act of kindness would never be forgotten and swore to himself he would repay this kindness no matter what.

*The life of a yakuza is not exactly the most suitable environment for a child/teen to grow up in, and “affection” would be shown through tough love or ’roughing up until set straight’. (The traditional Asian way). Pops did attempt to ask Kai about his past but Kai’s answers are very vague so Pops does not pry further. The trauma doesn’t get addressed and shows some behavioral problems from him later on.

*Kai eventually befriends Kurono Hari who grew up with the Shie Hassaikai. Hari shows Kai the ropes of being a yakuza, and also gives him tips about the gangster life. Kai quickly adapts into his new home and Hari becomes his closest and most trusted friend, joining and supporting whatever Kai comes up with.

*Kai truly cherishes Pops and his new home, to the point that he gets into fights with other kids for insulting his new home, or comparing them to villains, who he considers sick. Pops thanks him for defending the Shie Hassaikai’s honor and Kai makes this his life mission. As mentioned before, Pops showed affection through a “tough love” style, so hearing praise like this was rare. Kai secretly craved to be given more appreciation and affection, which is something he never received as a child, and the reason why he goes far and beyond just to ‘repay his debt’ to Pops.

*Eventually, Kai comes to terms with his “infection”. The quirk he blamed for his abandonment and suffering is now seen as a tool he needs to use to defend the Shie Hassaikai. And he knows his quirk makes him powerful. He needs this power to protect his home and become the man the Shie Hassaikai needs.

*Kai started wearing a facemask during his teenage years, wanting to protect himself from breathing the same air as his filthy, quirk-ridden classmates.

*The exposure to illicit activities and fights among gangs and other gang members made Kai truly develop his fighting and social skills. He learns how to charm, manipulate and intimidate to get his way. Above all, he leaves his enemies dead or near dead after a battle, instilling fear in not only rival gangs but also his own members. He quickly becomes well-known among the yakuzas as a deadly and fearsome individual who should not be taken lightly. Pops does not approve of Kai getting into these kinds of fights but Kai considers this part of repaying his debt.

*The yakuza influence is diminishing in society as one after another organization gets disbanded. Kai is hurt from seeing their organization backed into a corner and he blames the quirk plague, believing that quirks cause further delusion to use them for heroic or villainous causes. He imagines that the world would be a more ideal place for the yakuza if there were no more quirks. No heroes to oppose them and no villains to take their rightful place in the underworld.

*He proceeds to make the Shie Hassaikai more powerful by gaining more recruits and money. He does so by getting into ring fights to garner more respect and also starts businesses such as loan sharks and drug dealing for more income. Pops also does not approve of this and calls him out.

*Pops and Kai frequently clash about his methods. Pops believes in adjusting to the new normal as a yakuza but Kai cannot agree to this and wants the yakuza to come back to power, standing by ‘the end justifies the means’ philosophy.

*One fateful day, Pops’ daughter calls him out of the blue, panicked about her daughter’s ability, unceremoniously drops Eri off at the Shie Hassaikai’s compound and leaves to be never heard of again. Pops notices that Eri’s quirk has similarities to Kai’s and (foolishly) thinks it would be a good idea to have Kai look after her and study her, somehow hoping Kai would connect to her and have something else to do rather than engaging in criminal businesses.

*There is an instant aversion towards Eri when Kai first sees her, which is because she reminds him too much of himself. But then he studies and starts understanding her ability, realizing she could actually revert back humanity to their original state- quirkless. After all this time, all the suffering caused by quirks, the hopeless truth of the mice theory- at last there was an answer and Eri could make it all go away. He finds a way to use her quirk genes the very same way Garaki had done to him. He comes up with a plan that not only answers his questions to his former existential crisis, but also a way to help the Shie Hassaikai. If there were no more heroes or villains to oppose their place, the yakuza could rise to power again. In addition to that, they could also make so much money if they monopolized quirks. All the previous struggles he had could be fixed through Eri.

*Kai proposes this plan to Pops and we all know how that ended. When Pops threatens to kick him out, Kai falls into despair, afraid to lose the one thing that matters most to him. He puts Pops into a coma so he can proceed with his plan unopposed but he does feel very guilty about hurting him but comforts himself in the thought that all of what he’s doing is for Pops, to repay his kindness. He discards his name, going by the name of his quirk instead which he formerly detested, and wears a plague mask instead, symbolizing he is on the pursuit to cure the world.

Spoiler alert: no more arms and no more Shie Hassaikai.

#overhaul #chisaki kai #kai chisaki #mha headcanons #I prolly should have read the manga again to make it more accurate but I don't feel like touching it anymore #time to look for some comfort fics ig

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i-cant-sing · 2 years

Note

Everyone asking about the Royal Gay au meanwhile I'm just gremlining in the corner waiting for anything related to Re8:TRP bc I don wanna ask about it and potentially annoy you

Hmm, okay I've got a particular scenario in my mind:

Okay, imagine post re8, when Ethan forgot about saving reader, died, then came back to life with realisation that he forgot about you, so he "saves" you but you're too pissed at him (rightfully) and tell him that as soon you get out of the village, you're moving out because you can't be around him and Mia since Rose will always be a priority for them and you can't risk losing more of your sanity and self respect.

To which Ethan says "Oh... request denied😃" and then proceeds to kidnap you and take you home, where Mia has started to realise how important you are to the smooth functioning of this dysfunctional family and agrees with Ethan about keeping you locked up in your room.

They both think that you're just acting this way because you're "a little jealous" of the attention they've been giving to Rose. And you're being "totally unreasonable" because Rose is a baby, she needs them more than you do.

It never even occurs to them that you hate them because of all the abuse they've subjected you to all these years.

They don't understand why you're being so rebellious right now? Throwing away the food they cook for you, refusing to eat anything, screaming at them to let you go, trying to break the chains around your feet.

When will this "phase" of yours end?

Mia thinks it'd be rather better if they gave you silent treatment and ignored you and your basic human needs- yeah, that'll teach you to not bite the hand that feeds you.

Ethan on the other hand, doesn't agree with that (mostly because he's incapable of ignoring you now that he's become a yandere). He thinks you just need to remember all the good times. So he goes to the store to look through some very old boxes to find your old journals. He remembers seeing you writing in them as a kid, and if memory serves him right, you still used to write in them.

Pulling out the dusty old box with your name on it, he picked out a journal and began flipping through them.

Hours later, Mia entered the house, only to find Ethan in the store room, absolutely bawling his eyes out.

"Ethan? Hun? What's wrong? Is Rose okay?" Mia asked, immeadiately crouching down to hold him.

Ethan just hugged hia wife, crying into her shoulder. "S-she hates us, Mia."

"What?"

"She hates us! Y/n hates us!" Ethan cried out, pointing at all the journals. Picking one up, Mia began reading them.

I hate mom. I hate her. I hate her. I hate her. I hate her-

The words continued for several pages, before moving onto Ethan.

Dad- I never thought I'd hate him, but I hate him even more than mom. How could he- how could he ignore my croes for help? Am I that unimportant to them? Or just unlovable?

I hate dad, I hate him so much.

I wish he was dead. Wish they were both dead.

Mia's mouth fell open, completely in disbelief that you would say something like that. And more than one time. In fact, several of your notebooks were just filled with words of hatred for your parents.

Ethan went out for a walk, telling Mia he just cant be around all of this right now, asking her to get rid of all the journals for him. Mia just nods, her mind somewhere else.

While Ethan is taking a walk in the park, wondering how to change your mind about him and Mia, his wife has decided to take a different strategy to make you regret those words.

Currently, your head is being held under water as Mia flushed the toilet bowl once again.

You gasped for her air as she yanked your head up again. "You un-fucking-grateful brat! How fucking dare you wish death upon your own parents?! I'm gonna make you wish you were dead-!" She screamed as she pushed your head back in the water.

"MIA!" Ethan yelled, pulling his wife off you, as you came up, coughing up the water that got in your lungs. "What the fuck?!"

You're wrapped up in a towel, sitting in your room, a chain still around your foot, as you hear Ethan and Mia arguing downstairs.

Arguing over their "parental strategies" for you.

Arguing over you.

You smiled a little. You never imagined they'd ever take the time to argue or even talk about you.

And all it took was your sanity.

I just know this how they be arguing:

Mia: What the hell, Ethan?! You said you wanted to try the "good cop. Bad cop."thing!

Ethan:

Mia:

Ethan:

Mia:

Ethan: YEAH! "GOOD COP- BAD COP" NOT "GOOD COP-HOMICIDAL COP" MIA!

Mia, voice breaking because no.1 manipulator: wow, I can't believe you're saying I'm the "bad cop". Is that what you think of me?

#yandere ethan winters #yandere mia winters #yandere re8 #re8 x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil village #resident evil #resident evil 8 #yandere lady dimitrescu #yandere lady alcina

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kirain · 7 months

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I've been on this site for over ten years and I've never had to do this, but sadly the time has come where I feel forced to make a call out post, if only for the safety of my blog.

Please do not harass this person. PLEASE DO NOT HARASS THEM! That is not my goal here. That said, I do suggest you avoid them at all costs, for your own safety and sanity.

A few days ago, I made a post responding to some anonymous hate I received regarding Gale Dekarios, a character from BG3. An account named Turtwg, who has now changed her name to Shdowheart, took issue with the content and tone of my post. Instead of simply blocking me, she attacked me and several other people in the notes, and accused me of sending the anon to myself.

I responded, arguing against her accusations and a few other remarks she made. Just typical fandom discourse. Or so I thought.

I regret it now (only because I've lost some evidence), but I deleted many of her and my messages. They were clogging up my post and veering extremely off topic, but eventually she admitted I didn't send the anon to myself. When I asked her how she knew that, she said she traced the anon to a Gale-centric account. You see, she believed the anon wasn't sent by an Astarion fan, but by a Gale fan trying to create discourse. In a normal situation, I'd say that's a fair assumption for anyone to make, but something seemed off.

First of all, despite several people telling her it's not possible to track down blogs through their anonymous messages, she insisted she found the user responsible—which honestly made me wonder if she sent the anon herself, hoping to create drama. If she did, then mission accomplished, I guess. We messaged back and forth in the notes for a while, with me commenting on both the impossibility and morality of tracking down an anonymous user. During that time, her responses to me were lightning fast. Constant. Remember that for later.

Second, she soon told me she had the anon's IP address, which she said she'd "happily send me". I told her an IP address doesn't prove anything because it can be photoshopped and a lot of people use VPNs. I also pointed out how utterly insane it is to dox/cyberstalk someone over a post about a video game. It's really not that serious. But out of sheer curiosity, I told her to give me the blog name. Not because I believed her, but because I was curious to see if she'd accuse a popular blog or someone who could defend themselves. The moment I asked, she went silent for nearly an hour. 🤔

When she came back, she gave me the name of an account called Dekariosbf. She told me to message the account, so I did, though I made no accusations against them yet. As I waited for a reply, I accused Turtwg of making the account herself, as it was barren with no activity whatsoever. No likes, no posts, nothing. She easily could've created the account during that hour of peace. Moreover, after she gave me the account name and I accused her of creating it, her responses were once again lightning fast. 🤔

As we argued, I sent my brother-in-law and a friend of mine a link to my blog and had them read through the discourse. They don't have Tumblr accounts, but they're both computer nerds and my brother-in-law literally works with computers/programs for a living. I asked them if anything Turtwg said was valid, and they (along with someone else in the notes who claimed to work in UI/UX) confirmed that no, absolutely nothing she said was valid. Tumblr pays for a service that protects their users, and the only way to trace anons is by using extremely unsavory and illegal methods ... and even then it's extremely unlikely to work.

Speaking of, my brother-in-law eventually messaged me and told me he found the actual account that sent the anon. I stupidly believed him and jumped the gun on that, because it turns out he was just being a shit disturber. That said, I used this information to call Turtwg out on her lies. In response, Dekariosbf miraculously (and in a rather timely fashion) responded to me. Unfortunately I don't have any screenshots of this interaction, but I'll explain why in a moment.

Dekariosbf was chatty and cordial at first. I asked them for their main account name, but they refused to give it, saying they only use it for poetry; which, as you can see from the screenshot, directly contradicts their bio, but I digress. I was suspicious, but also kept in mind the possibility that this might've been an innocent person Turtwg accused. For a while we shot the shit, talking back and forth about BG3, reading, teaching—but I did this for a reason. I wanted to get a feel for their writing style. Sure enough, they wrote exactly like Turtwg. Same spelling mistakes, same pattern of punctuation, same use of lower case letters instead of capital letters, same abbreviations, etc.

Finally, when I was sure it was her, I dropped the bomb. I very gently told "Dekariosbf" that someone named Turtwg accused them of sending me a hateful Gale anon, but that I didn't believe it. Low and behold, they did a complete 180.

"Yes, it was me. It was totally me. I just LOVE your blog and RESPECT you so much. I LOVE Gale and I wanted to know what you'd say if I sent that anon. It wasn't meant to be hateful. Please don't write a call out post about me. Please don't tell your followers. I mean, I understand if you do, but please don't. Turtwg messaged me and threatened to dox me and sent me a photo of my IP address. She's so smart, I don't think you should mess with her. Oh and my mom can't speak English. If we get doxxed, I think it would kill her."

Right...

I said I didn't believe them and accused them of being Turtwg on a sock account. They kept insisting they weren't, begged me to believe they sent the anon (and I mean they were desperate for me to believe it), and very strangly didn't express any anger or confusion over the situation. When I brought up the accusation, they completely changed their tone from friendly to "oh yeah, that was me". I kept saying I didn't believe them, particularly because of what my brother-in-law said, but promised not to call any attention to them. I was happy to simply let the matter rest. Suddenly, mid conversation, they deleted their entire blog. Poof. It's gone now, along with all our messages.

I thought that would be the end of it, but not even five minutes after Dekariosbf flung themselves into the void, Turtwg herself DMed me out of nowhere and accused me of trying to hack her account, presumably because I told "Dekariosbf" that my brother-in-law is computer savvy. Keep in mind that before this moment, our entire conversation took place in the notes of my post. I never DMed her, nor did I have any intention of doing so. I also had absolutely no idea what she was talking about, I just knew she was lying to me. Now it looks as though she's ramping up to lie to the Tumblr admins in order to get my account deleted.

And all because my post about a video game made her angry.

I really hate drawing attention to this. You can see in my other posts that I always censor people's usernames, but as I said at the beginning ... I don't feel like I have a choice this time. I want this up so the Tumblr admins or whoever can see it.

Turtwg has attacked other people for posting their opinions as well. For example, she attacked this person just because they expressed their opinon on wyllsterion. She went so far as to call them racist when Wyll is literally one of their favourite characters. She just got mad because they don't think Wyll and Astarion make sense together; a perfectly valid opinion. And I only know about this because I received messages warning me about interacting with Turtwg/Shdowheart from someone who recognised them in the notes of my post.

I guess I should've blocked her from the start, but I've said many times in the past that I enjoy a good debate. Plus I was genuinely curious to see how far she was willing to take her lie. Unfortunately, I underestimated just how unhinged she truly is. On her own blog, she's even admitted that she's had to make a new account seven times, likely due to other drama she started.

I was very hesitant to put this in the BG3 tags, but since that seems to be the fandom she interacts with the most, I figured it would be a fair warning to anyone else she might harass. She's particularly active in the Astarion/Wyll/Wyllsterion tags. Stay safe, everyone. I think I'll sign off for a while. I'm tired, and this has somehow become the most toxic fandom I've ever dared to be a part of.

Please do not harass this person. PLEASE DO NOT HARASS THEM! That is not my goal here. That said, I do suggest you avoid them at all costs, for your own safety and sanity.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #wyll ravengard #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 1 year

Note

Hello! I just wanna say your writing is amazing, and I absolutely adore your tmc stories and writing overall it's so good!!!! I was wondering if I could get a continuation of the Adam x gn reader where they found him alongside Thatcher (maybe they drive him to somewhere safe like an inn/motel and care for him. Whether it be cuddling, reassurance, allowing him to vent. Bcuz they just don't mind him being an alternate. Regardless of what he is they care for him and want the best.) I need my boy to feel okay :(

Aw thanks! I'm surprised ya'll wanted continuations for not just one of my Adam fics, but TWO of them. It makes me happy though!

For this one, I imagine Reader finding out how truly difficult helping Adam is gonna be when he starts acting more like an Alternate, but it's a fight they refuse to give up on.

So enjoy <3

Read the first part/prequel here

..........

"Well..here we are. I told the lady we're staying several nights, but my credit card should cover it."

Opening the door to the motel room, you pocketed the key before heading inside to check things out, tossing some bags onto the table.

Adam, in the meantime, stood there awkwardly in the hallway. But after you called his name, he snapped out of his trance and entered--

Only to bump his head on the top of the doorframe and wince in pain, rubbing the spot where it hurt as he scowled at nothing specific.

After everything that's happened tonight, he forgot that his painful metamorphosis and splintering of bones made him a few inches taller...not that he considered it a plus in any way, shape, or form.

If the circumstances were different, he'd probably brag about it to everyone.

Fortunately you didn't notice his mishap, as you were making sure there weren't any TVs or mirrors in the room. Not just for your own safety, but also for Adam's sanity, too.

He couldn't stand seeing his reflection in anything; even the van's rearview mirror made him freak out when he accidentally looked at it, screeching uncontrollably and screwing up the radio's signal until you finally figured out what was wrong and covered it up.

That's the first and only time you nearly crashed the van, thank goodness.

The rest of the drive was uneventful until you found this rundown motel somewhere on the outskirts of Werksha County, deciding it's the safest place to lay low until you both figured out what to do next.

Of all things, you never expected one of your closest friends to be an Alternate--not one who recently killed him and stole his identity, but one who didn't even know what he was until this very night.

Apparently, the "Intruder" revealed that he had replaced his real counterpart at only 4 years old, his mom having been dead this entire time...and deciding that now was the time for him to 'awaken".

Though given how he was crying, screaming, and begging for death when you and Thatcher found him, it's obvious he didn't take that news very well and didn't want to be anything like them.

He lived as a human for so long..he was convinced that he is one and refused to accept his reality.

You couldn't bring yourself to hate him for something he had no control over, nor were you going to ever treat him like one of those monsters.

They were heartless and evil...and while Adam himself acted that way for the past several weeks, pushing away everyone who cared about him, you realized he regretted it deeply. Surely Alternates don't feel things like that.

Eventually you'll have to tell Sarah and Evelin the truth, and also find out where BPS goes from here.

But none of that was important right now.

Taking care of him was.

"Alright. Everything looks good...shit, even the beds look pretty decent. I'm surprised."

Blinking, Adam looked to see you plop down onto one of the beds, laying on your back. "You gotta come over here, man. I promise it's comfier than it looks."

After a bit of silence, you heard some shuffling noises and glanced at him as he limped over to the other bed. He sat down and shrugged off your BPS jacket, using it like a blanket before he curled up on the mattress, resting his head on the pillow and tucking his lanky limbs close to his chest.

In a way, he almost acted like a cat...which was kinda cute.

"Yeah I'm pretty tired, too. You need anything, Adam?" You asked.

All you got was a shake of his head in response, his eyes already closed.

'Right..we both need some sleep. I know he definitely does. We'll figure out some game plan in the morning, then..' You took off your shoes, leaving them on the floor before getting under the sheets and turning off the lamp light.

"Well..goodnight."

He mumbled something, but you assumed was also "goodnight" and eventually fell fast asleep..

Until your short-lived dream turned into a nightmare.

You found yourself standing alone in a dark void, hearing the muffled screams of your friend that sounded so close...and yet so far away. But no matter what, you couldn't find him anywhere, even as you ran and called out his name.

If anything, it felt like you were moving even further away.

Then you were halted by a figure descending from the sky--being that same mysterious angel statue you saw back in the van, except its face was covered by a black square. Its movements, however, were quite lively as it spoke to you in the same voice that claimed itself to be your "intuition".

It whispered that you could not save the "Mandela Prophet" from his destiny, even though what he did tonight was unexpected--implying that he was supposed to harm you.

But it vowed that his "disguise" will eventually shed itself..and when it does you won't be safe anymore.

You refused to believe it, instead asking what it wanted from you.

Its response?

"I want you to open your eyes"

Suddenly you woke up, heart pounding a mile a minute as you looked around the dark motel room. It took a moment to realize you were out of that horrible dream.

But then you ceased all movements as you noticed the time on the alarm clock displayed 3:33 AM in red neon....before seeing a skeletal figure sitting on the edge of your bed, uncomfortably close.

It stared down at you with white pupils rolling around in its eyes, its mouth hung open--stretching to biologically impossible proportions as it spoke in whispers you couldn't decipher, despite its mouth not moving at all.

"A-Adam? That you?"

You bravely turned on the lamp light, rubbing your eyes to see that it was indeed your friend watching over you. His mouth was back in its normal place...although you did see it wide open for a split second after light filled the room before he closed it immediately.

It did give you a mini heart attack, forgetting he was capable of something like that, though you tried acting like you never saw it at all.

"S-Sorry..I didn't mean to wake you up." He apologized, clearing his throat. "I...couldn't sleep. Fuck, how can I?"

"It's alright. I don't think I can either." Sighing, you sat up and smiled reassuringly at him. "We've been through a lot of shit tonight, and-"

"You need to kill me."

Your smile faded as you stared at him, confused when he shoved one of his pillows against your torso. It had stuffing torn out of it, the case covered in blood and saliva.

"What the--?!" You blinked, looking down in horror. "Adam, is this your bl-?!!"

"I tried it and it didn't fucking work...s-so I need you to do it for me. Please." He begged. "I've tried everything else!!"

'Is he...asking me to smother him..? Was he...actually screaming earlier?' Your heart sunk into your stomach at the realization he tried killing himself while you were sleeping, but you shook your head.

"Adam we're not having this conversation again. I can't do that to you, okay? It's not going to work, and even if it did...I just...I can't. If you think I'm okay with straight-up murdering you-"

"Just do it, [y/n]...I-I don't care how long it takes. I don't want to be your burden anymore. I just...I want this to END!!!" He panicked, growing frustrated that you weren't taking the pillow as he now kneeled in front of you, hands trembling. "I'm one of those sick fucks that took your family away! So get revenge! KILL ME!!!"

"But you're not." Your gaze softened, resting your hands over his own. "You didn't kill them. You're my friend-"

"How can you see THIS as a friend-d-d?!!" He wailed, tearing himself away from you as coarse static began to overlay his voice. "This "friend" hurt so many people...Jonah...a-and Evelin...and it's going to hurt you too if you don't stop me!! PLEASE JUST FUCKING END MY SUFFERING-G-G!!!

You desperately tried to calm him down, afraid that someone in the neighboring rooms would hear all of his screaming and howling.

But he didn't stop.

"Shhh! Adam-! Adam, please just-!!"

"STOP IT!! DON'T CALL ME THAT!!! THAT'S NOT MY NAME!! IT WAS NEVER MY NAME!! I lied to you...I DECIEVED you, and you were too stupid to realize it.."

"...h-huh?" You froze, bewildered as his face suddenly became devoid of all emotion, staring dead at your confused expression.

"You stopped that cop from putting a bullet in my head." Tears began streaming down his bony cheeks, his jaw going slack as he spoke. "You're so selfish. You're a coward. Don't you see how horrible you are..keeping me around?! You think I can be saved?! You're only making me SUFFER, [y/n], and it's all your fault!"

You were shocked at the things he was saying to you, wondering if the last of his humanity had finally slipped away...and this is all that remained now.

"A-Adam, please stop-"

"PLEASE STOP! PLEASE STOP! PLEASE STOP! PLEASE STOP!" He began to mimic your voice to near-perfection, hearing hysterical laughter coming from him despite his expression not matching it at all.

You could tell from his eyes alone that he wasn't in total control over himself. He wasn't doing this on purpose.

It was those Alternate instincts trying to override him, attempting to submit you to the symptoms of M.A.D.

Begging him to be quiet was no longer working. You had to try something else...something that would catch him off-guard.

And you finally figured it out.

Taking the pillow, you tossed it aside before gently pulling Adam into your arms, once again being careful not to crush any of his fragile bones. Almost immediately his laughter stopped, his whole body seizing up.

Without the jacket you've previously given him, you could feel how extremely skinny he was, his vertebrae almost poking through his flesh. But it didn't stop you from wrapping your arm around his back, petting his hair soothingly with your other hand.

"...what are you doing-g?" He asked, his voice muffled by your shoulder. "Don't touch me! I-I'm...I will....!"

"You'll what?"

"......."

From the way his entire form gradually went slack in your arms, you realized he was (somewhat) back to his old self, and smiled. "See? You're not hurting me now, and you didn't before. I still trust you, Adam."

He didn't do anything for a few long moments, but just when you were about to let him go, he suddenly hugged you back and fully buried his face into your shoulder, sobbing.

"I'm so sorry, I-I didn't mean to...! I'm sorry, I'm sorry..!!"

"It's okay. I know you didn't mean any of it." You consoled, allowing him to pull you closer to him. As much as he tried, he could barely crush you..considering he had little strength left. "It's okay, we're both okay."

He just shook his head, still devastated that he tried giving you M.A.D and couldn't stop himself. "Th-This is why I wanted you to leave me..b-before I say stupid shit like that and hurt you...."

"C'mon, you've said a lot of "stupid shit" over the years. It's gonna take more than that to drive me away." As you rubbed his bare back, you could feel him nuzzling into your shirt more, desperate for warmth that his own body no longer provided him.

"I-It's so cold. I'm scared, [y/n]...I'm scared of myself." He choked. "None of this feels...real."

"I know. I...can't even imagine what's been going through your head tonight. But you're still my friend, and nothing's gonna change that. Not even this, alright?"

After a few moments of silence he nodded, sniffling. "I'm sorry for putting all of this on you. But....if you have to kill me-"

"Adam."

"R-Right, right...I'm sorry. I won't bring it up again.."

"....we'll figure out something else, okay? And I'll be here for you. Just like always."

Although Adam didn't verbally respond to that, he let go of you and laid down beside you, indicating he wanted to at least attempt to sleep. You were surprised that he didn't just return to his own bed, but you weren't going to be a dick and kick him off.

So you gave him most of the sheets and blankets, knowing he needed them far more than you did. He only mumbled a small "thank you" before turning his back to you, now tucked under the blanket.

You got under the covers as well, switching off the light again, but you heard him still crying softly into the pillow and groaning in pain, clearly trying to hide it from you.

It hurts that you couldn't take away his pain.

The one thing you could do, however, was comfort him..now knowing he wasn't going to push you away like he did before. So you gently put your arm around him, closing some of the space between you two while not being too constricting.

And while he didn't stop crying right away, he eventually quieted down and fell asleep with one less worry on his mind.

You hoped it wasn't too weird--just something to reassure him that you're gonna be right here when he awakened.

It did the trick.

You weren't going to leave him.

Not anytime soon.

#clanask #anonymous #tmc x reader #mandela catalogue x reader #adam murray #adam murray x reader #hurt/comfort #angst #fluff #tw body horror #tw suicide mention

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7potato7 · 8 months

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So, Xie Lian descends from Heaven without stopping to let Ling Wen get even a single word in. He goes back to doing what he normally does, completely unaware that he just turned literally all of Heaven upside down. He spends several years this way (maybe even decades?? he has an excellent track record hiding from people) but Feng Xin and/or Mu Qing eventually find him and go wtf dude. So, since he's technically a fugitive now (Heaven saw him ascending, destroying everything, then rapidly descending similarly to a terrorist (except terrorism as a term doesn’t exist yet, so the xianxia equivalent ig) attack, oops. Speculation is that he works for Hua Cheng!!! which makes the man himself feel a certain type of way ofc) he flees down the Silk Road and ends up in Rome. He DID spend the time he was still in China (or the territories that would become China, since I'm estimating this at around 0 CE for my own sanity) trying to defeat random ghosts to repay his debt, but quickly realized it was futile.

ofc Feng Xin and Mu Qing now realize that this wasn't a terrorist attack! They already knew that, but Xie Lian's reaction is only proof! They go to Jun Wu, who decides that "Xianle" should be reinstated to his rightful position in Heaven. Yay! Except now they can't find Xie Lian Anywhere. Cue manhunt.

Meanwhile Xie Lian has been enlisted to the Roman army. Which, hey, he'd rather not do that. So he manages to finagle himself into a position on a small northern island which shouldn't see too much conflict. However, this is very much not the case! The Britons relied on the Roman army to defend themselves from the Saxons! So, Xie Lian just deserted and quietly retreated to gather scraps in some forgotten corner of the island. He gets caught in a storm and winds up in Ireland. He's still there when the Romans leave the island in 410 and when St. Patrick comes in 433. Turns out St. Patrick isn't actually an ascended official! How disappointing. For unrelated reasons, Xie Lian returns to Briton, now thoroughly "invaded" (read: culturally integrated) by the Angles and Saxons. He putters around the island for a while longer before heading back to the mainland (read: was exiled to the mainland. For witchcraft. In a boat with rocks in the bottom (very pseudo-historical, as far as I know the 5th century Britons were most definitely not executing people for witchcraft. Witchcraft was a fun hobby they did on the side, not a crime. However, I’d like to see you see someone stand up after being shot in the eye and not throw him in the sea. Yeah, that’s what I thought)).

He hitches up with the Merovingians, who deeply appreciate his rockin' haircut. Clovis (famously brutal and murderous, but then again who isn't), however, Did Not appreciate his ability to walk off a stabbing. Clovis stabs Xie Lian a couple extra times to be sure, then cuts his head off and sets him on fire. It takes Xie Lian about a decade to come back from that, so now it’s 511 and Clovis is dead. Xie Lian decides that he should try some other place on for size.

He ends up in a catholic monastery in Spain. This is where he learns to read Latin, which will later help him learn to read Spanish, French, German, English, you name it. Obviously, he can't pay the entrance fee, so he's a lay brother doing grunt work. He's fine with this. Although he has gathered some knowledge of the local religion, it's not something he can afford to be questioned on (thankfully, literally no peasant ever was educated in the scriptures so he was fine). The atmosphere vaguely reminds him of Mt. Taicang (in literally the vaguest possible sense), and he wonders if this is what Mu Qing had to deal with.

Then the abbot notices he hasn't aged and decides that he's an angel sent by God. Xie Lian decides it's about time for a change of scenery. They've probably forgotten about him in Briton, right?

Unfortunately, he's not that lucky. The abbot isn't willing to let him go that easily, and he and his successors chase him around Spain until 711, at which point they have other problems. Xie Lian reaches Briton and joins another monastery because that was nice. Poverty, chastity, obedience, thy name is Xie Lian!

Fortunately, this monastery is more willing to "overlook" his lack of aging. Unfortunately, this monastery is Lindisfarne, and is destroyed by Vikings in 793. Noticing that Xie Lian doesn't die when killed, the Vikings decide that he's the mortal incarnation of Thor, obviously. They take him with them, fit him out with armor and weapons, and bring him back when they sack Westphalia. He doesn't like killing anyone, but that's fine with them! They're just glad to have the mortal incarnation of... probably not Thor with them! While Xie Lian is still upset that they killed all those monks, he's gotta admit this is the best people have treated him since... his first ascension... ah, shit, he's gotta get out of here. He’s been having too much fun, this was supposed to be penance, mental spiral, etc etc. Maybe just in a bit, though.

They keep asking him to stay just a bit longer, kill just one more sea monster, please, your holiness, until suddenly it's 911 and Rollo is sacking what will become Normandy. When the French king gives it to them as a "please stop, thanks," Xie Lian goes there with Rollo. Then he leaves. The newly dubbed Normans are sad, of course, but they can't keep holding their god back! In reality, Xie Lian is worried that his bad luck is going to catch up to him.

For a while, he falls back into his scrap collecting ways -except, it isn't as easy in medieval Europe. They live in small, insular communities that don't much like strangers. So he eventually decides to just... hide in the woods.

At this point, Feng Xin and Mu Qing have obviously realized that Xie Lian isn't in China anymore (if you're wondering how it took that long, it's because they got distracted by the Warring States Period and the trail went cold). So they follow legends of a strange looking man who didn't die when stabbed to Spain. However, Xie Lian isn't in Spain. He's in the part of the world that will eventually become Germany, trying to avoid being pressed into a Crusade. Yes, it is already 1096. Keep up.

He does end up going on the Crusade as a cook. That lasts a day before they decide to throw him on the frontlines to "soften up the Moors." Xie Lian fakes his death. I could choose a specific battle, but I don't particularly care to. It was probably Antioch. Fine, it was Antioch.

He spends some time in the Byzantine Empire, which is rapidly crumbling. He flees after the Sack of Constantinople in 1204, thankfully with only minimal injuries this time. But on his way out, he briefly sees Feng Xin and Mu Qing in the chaos, fighting on the side of the Byzantine Empire. They also see him, but he leaves before they can do anything about it.

So Xie Lian fucks off to a random island in the Mediterranean. This ends up being the Island of Rhodes. He stays there doing his little scrap collecting do da until 1306, when the Hospitallers move in. Shortly after that, they themselves are booted off to Malta in another invasion. Xie Lian goes with them, bc what the hell, these guys kinda suck, they deserve the bad luck.

Xie Lian is still in Malta when the Black Plague hits in 1349. It... brings some old wounds back up to the surface. Best to just forget about it. He sticks around, anyways.

The Inquisition begins in 1478. The Hospitallers start to give him funny looks. However, he is widely viewed as a living saint, so they don’t really do anything. Xie Lian fakes his death, then barricades himself into a cave and meditates for around fifty years before coming back out. No one recognizes him. He does this a couple more times, with varying lengths of meditation. He should probably just move on, but it’s awfully difficult to get on and off Malta. Also, it’s kind of nice there.

In 1565, Xie Lian almost single-handedly holds off the siege of Malta with the aid of the inhabitants while the Hospitallers cower in their monastery. Really, these monk guys have gone downhill over the centuries. Of course, the Hospitallers and Ottomans rewrite the narrative, but who would expect any less? The truth is just embarrassing for everyone involved.

In a rare stroke of luck, Xie Lian leaves the island after the siege. Just a few short years later, in 1573, the Inquisition moves in.

It is now 1615. Xie Lian is very tired. He returns to the mainland after the siege, and now everyone is fighting over something called "indulgences." He wants to go home. He does go home! Jun Wu finds him immediately, oops. He'd been watching Mt. Taicang (insane behavior, it's been 2,000 years bro) and obviously noticed when Xie Lian went to pay respects to his parents. Xie Lian narrowly escapes and runs as far as he possibly can. Your pick whether it’s just because of the stalker-ish behavior or a Bai Wuxiang reveal. Either way, he runs all the way to the New World.

Of course, he doesn’t have the money to just... book a ship there. He signs on as an indentured servant. What are a few years off his life anyways? Unfortunately, before that can happen, he gets mugged and accidentally murders the guy. Instead of being an indentured servant in exchange for land, he is instead working off his debt to the guy's family. Which is fine, of course.

It's not, in fact, fine. After his service is done, he once more fucks off to the woods. At this point, however, most Native Americans know to be wary of foreigners, so he keeps to himself. If he gets shot by mistake a few times, it's fine, he shakes it off. At least they aren't guns. In most cases. He'll take what he can get.

He finds a cave. He meditates in the cave. He doesn't come out until 1850. It's almost being in the coffin again, except he can leave anytime. He just. Doesn't.

The shackle around his neck cracks slightly under the force of spiritual power he’s cultivated. He doesn’t notice.

The world of 1850 is very different than the world of 1650. Manifest Destiny is real and thriving. Suddenly the relatively friendly local tribes have been replaced by a bunch of other, less friendly people. The mountain used to be called Maskwa Wac, but now it’s Bear Mountain and Xie Lian is in Connecticut, apparently??? Mostly people call him strange names when he tries to ask questions, so he avoids them.

He isn’t used to people anymore. They aren’t exactly willing to get used to him, either. Centuries of dirt don’t wash out with a single bath. After two centuries in a cave, he has to relearn how to talk, write, and generally interact with the world. Culture has changed, language has changed, the entire world has changed. Xie Lian is exactly the same.

In 1863, Xie Lian finally manages to get a job. It’s gotten significantly harder to live without a job, so that’s good (maybe he should invest in this newfangled “identification” thing). Building the trans-continental railroad is a great gig for someone like Xie Lian. He’s strong and more than willing to work. The pay isn’t bad.

Unfortunately, some boulders fall on him after a misplaced TNT blast and his coworkers leave him for dead. But hey, hadn’t he heard of something called a “Gold Rush” talked about nostalgically in bars? He’s pretty sure it’s over now, but it’s worth a shot. He’s already partway there.

He only gets mauled by like three bears on the way over. It was good that he’d seen a few before at that point, or else he’d probably think they were yao. He also got shot several more times, whether by Native Americans or settlers.

The people out West hadn’t gotten a forty-niner in decades, but they’re willing to give him odd jobs mopping at bars and fixing fences and such. It’s almost nostalgic. They hear news about the South seceding and the war that follows, but it isn’t something that really affects them all the way out here. Xie Lian is glad to avoid it.

After only a couple years, he decides to go back to the East Coast. He doesn’t want to bring bad luck on these people’s heads, after all. He accidentally zig-zags down into Mexico and into South America, then overcompensates back up into Canada before finally making it to New York City.

It’s 1910. Almost the moment he steps foot in the city, he gets hit by a car. Somewhat delirious, he mistakes the car for a demon(?) and tries to kill it.

Insane asylums are not fun.

The important part is that he eventually gets out (or that’s what he tells himself). He doesn’t have the motivation to bother with a job anymore, so he bums it on the streets collecting scraps like he used to. Problem is, there’s a lot more homeless people in the post-Industrial world than the pre-Industrial one. Lots of competition for food and shelter. Usually, if it comes to a fight, Xie Lian just lets the other guy have whatever it is. It’s not like it’s life or death for Xie Lian, after all.

He gets picked up by the police, who aren’t so bad yet. Corrupt, yes, but this isn’t the Gilded Age anymore. They drop him off with a referral to work in a car factory (Xie Lian didn’t know whether to laugh or cry) and only a few bruises.

Machinery, ah... it tends to... break around him. He doesn’t last long at his new job. Neither does his job last long with him as an employee. The factory burns down. The owner has Xie Lian dropped in a river with rocks tied to his ankles. What goes around comes around, really.

In 1917, Xie Lian is drafted into WWI. So, of course, he ends up in the trenches. He’s just glad that he’s basically immune to every disease known to man. Most of his comrades aren’t so lucky.

This isn’t the type of war Xie Lian remembers fighting in -though his memories are a bit blurry at this point. They fight for inches of ground in exchange for hundreds of lives in muddy, dismal conditions. The mud kills almost more than the bombs do.

The despair is the same. That much never changes.

Xie Lian leaves. He had to. No amount of martial prowess could help stop this war. Perhaps strategy would, but even if they let some random soldier into the war room, Xie Lian wouldn’t know how to strategize with modern guns, let alone tear gas.

Feng Xin and Mu Qing are still looking for Xie Lian, of course. But the trail went cold years ago.

Hua Cheng is holding on to his existence by his fingernails these days. He’s expanded his influence globally, but he still can’t find His Highness anywhere. Ghosts everywhere tread on eggshells. In one night, he replaces every single carving and painting of Jesus in Europe with one of Xie Lian. The papacy is in an uproar, taking it as a sign from God Himself. The only person who doesn’t find it funny is Xie Lian, who is very confused. Also white supremacists. They don’t like it very much either (that just makes it funnier). It turns out that Xie Lian has been canonized as a saint a few separate times over the centuries. “His bones”/relics are in six separate churches. People start freaking out. A large portion of the Catholic church believes that Xie Lian is either Jesus (and that the rapture had already happened centuries ago) or the Antichrist. This causes a massive schism in Protestant and Catholic churches alike. Islam becomes the main Abrahamic religion. Xie Lian does his level best to ignore the people bowing to him in the streets and shaves his hair off with a bowie knife.

On another note, Jun Wu gave up on finding Xie Lian centuries ago. Turns out Xianle was just a spot of mud on his Heavenly canvas after all.

This is good. It means when Xie Lian sprints his way back across the world, Jun Wu isn’t watching Mt. Taicang anymore. Xie Lian, still a martial god, makes it there in a week at top speed. However, Mt. Taicang isn’t the same as it used to be. There’s a fence around the base, and big fancy houses everywhere. When Xie Lian touches the fence, it shocks him as if he’s been struck by lightning and he blacks out for a second. His first thought is that it’s some type of array (that some other cultivation sect has set up there, an optimistic voice whispers deep in his heart), but it’s just an electric fence of course. He climbs over.

His parents’ well is full of cement.

Xie Lian returns to the trenches. He was only gone for three weeks. His excuse is that there was a messed-up transfer. No one believes him, so he gets court martialed for desertion. It doesn’t go through. If he’d deserted, why would he ever go back to the trenches?

Eventually, he goes back to America. It was the furthest he could possibly get from his problems, after all.

It’s nice to be able to write “homeless veteran” on his signs. The police bother him less. Well, slightly less. People keep saying the economy is bad, but it’s always been bad for Xie Lian. He barely notices the differences anymore. He barely notices anything.

Then another war starts. Eventually, in 1942, Xie Lian is picked up and thrown into an internment camp. He isn’t Japanese, but he can’t exactly say he’s from Xianle, a long dead country no one has ever heard of. This is actually a massive turn in luck, because he meets Banyue and Pei Xiu in the camp. They’ve also been mistaken for Japanese, because that’s what a... misinformed forger put on their green cards when they got off Angel Island.

They all got out in 1946. Pei Xiu manages to get a low-paying job, but Banyue struggles to find work for her skillset (snakes) and Xie Lian still doesn’t have any identification. Pei Xiu quickly loses his job, and they all end up homeless again.

They’re at Stonewall when the riots start in 1969. The first brick was thrown by Marsha P. Johnson, the second by Sylvia Rivera, and the third by Shi Qingxuan, who now goes by Shi Xuan. They’ve had a bit of a rough time of it over the centuries since his brother was killed and they were knocked from Heaven, even losing an arm and leg, but they were kept immortal by her Ghost King. They don’t ever talk to each other, but Shi Xuan knows he’s watching. How else is she still alive? (If she keeps his camps close to waterfronts... well, that’s just their preference. Nothing to do with the head she can sometimes spy poking over the waves).

Shi Xuan recognizes Pei Xiu, but he recognizes nothing of the once-glorious Wind Master in them. She hits it off with Xie Lian and joins their group.

Technology is changing. Everything in the world is closer than it used to be. Privacy is quickly becoming a non-concept, especially for homeless people. There are cameras everywhere. Xie Lian, Banyue, Pei Xiu, and Shi Xuan don’t have access to this sort of technology.

Jun Wu, Feng Xin, Mu Qing, and Hua Cheng do. In 2003, a video of a homeless man telling a police officer off goes viral on LiveJournal and MySpace. On a completely unrelated note, several immortals show up in various American cities. Jun Wu is contemplating moving the Heavenly Court. Scientists are calling the sudden outburst of silver butterflies an invasive species.

It’s 2005, and Xie Lian hops onto the subway. It has been 2,803 years since he was banished. In an empty subway car, he meets a Ghost King in red.

#please don't take this too seriously #this is crack thinly veiled with angst #or angst thinly veiled with crack?#one of those #tgcf #modern au #canon divergence #if anyone sees any timeline mistake lmk #it's been a while since I got my history minor and Wikipedia is only so helpful

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oh-no-its-dragons · 2 months

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Dead Dove

So over on the RQ server we were talking about dead!Xaden fics and @sarcasticmothwrites mentioned that you can't write a dead!Violet fic from Xaden's POV because of the chain reaction.

And the plotbunnies apparently decided to take that as a personal challenge.

Warning: Dead Dove, Do Not Eat

I feel it when Sgaeyl's life spills out, soaking back into the Source.

It begins with a pounding in my chest, and the sensation of claws around my heart. The daylight turns solid black around me, shadows forming a wall without even needing a command. For a moment I think it's one of those fucking Sages trying to teach me respect again, and I start to throw up my shields.

That's when I realize where it's coming from. The navy blue night sky of Sgaeyl's presence on my hill as if she'd never left, as if I'm not standing on barren earth here now where I used to let her power and her love wash through me.

She'd banished me, but she'd never completely severed our bond.

I wonder what could make her reach out now and when I see the stars falling in her sky I know. She's dying.

The wrench in my gut when I realize she's dying and I won't die with her is harsher than would have expected. It's been years, years of loneliness, of dragging myself up through the venin ranks, learning their secrets and leaving them for the rebellion to find-

For Violet to find-

Oh gods, Violet. If Sgaeyl is dying, then Tairn is going with her to whomeever takes the souls of dragons, and Violet…

There's no way for me to know which part of their bond was reason for it, whether Violet's already gone or taking her last breaths against Tairn's bloodblack scales. The scar on my chest burns, my scarred and faded relic burns, my own breath burns in my chest.

I should be dying with them, Violet in my arms or my hands on Sgaeyl's side. If I was a better man, I would be dying with them, or maybe if I was there I would have saved them.

Instead I'm alone here, wrapping myself in layer after layer of shadow like the blankets I hid in when my mother left, as if I have any right to be upset. As if I have any right to grief or regret after everything I've done.

In my mind, on my hill, the stars have gone out of the night sky now. The dark blue fades lighter and lighter until it's gone, replaced with the parched, bone-white sky that's all I ever see now. Dead sky and dead earth, and me standing here wondering if maybe I've been dead the whole time.

I am realizing just how much the knowledge that Violet was out there, still fighting, kept me tethered to my sanity. I haven't let myself think about it, but now my walls are broken and every feeling I put away in the last three years rushes in. Has Bodhi forgiven me for leaving the burden of the rebellion to him? Have Garrick and Imogen finally gotten around to talking to each other? Has Sloane been able to come out of her brother's shadow?

Are they still alive?

Do I deserve to know if they are?

No, not yet. I've played at this, but I haven't done enough. I stand up and the shadows around me retreat.

I stare at the back of my hand, where black veins snake under my skin and disappear into the whorls of my rebellion relic. My heart never let go of Violet or Sgaeyl, but the rebellion had been my family. It's time to take this fucking seriously.

Back on my hill, I plant my feet on the dead ground and send myself as deep as I can go into the ground. Sgaeyl returned to the Source. Tairn went with her, and a part of Violet would have stayed with him, I'm sure, no matter what Malek tried to make her do. Fallen stars. The inkpot sky on Winter Solstice the first year after Threshing when Sgaeyl took me back to Aretia, hours on her back feeling her breathing and the cycle of energy between us. I know this. I know her. And she reached out to me at the end, so maybe I can even believe she wanted me to do this.

I pull, and I hear her clear as the last words she said to me, "I chose you!" She did. She chose me. She told me I was ruthless, and relentless, and she liked that. She had given me such a gift.

That gift is still mine, the last lifeline. I feel her warmth in my veins, flowing upward. I can almost, almost feel her breath on me as it reaches my heart and mixes with everything else I've taken, everything I've carried, and begins to flow into the rest of me.

I pull and there's more, there's so much, there was always so much and I'm no longer afraid of burning out. I can carry all of her, because that's all that's left, and I feel the burn that Tairn's energy had always felt like at the corner of my hill, like when I snuck into my father's good liquor cabinet as a kid. When I recognize it I drink it in like a drowning man because I know, I know-

Ozone and hope flash through me and I can feel her hands in my hair. Her lips on my neck. I can hold Sgaeyl and I can hold Tairn but somehow my Violence is the one who's always been too much. I shatter, my awareness ghosting through what feels like every shadow on the continent.

Every venin I can find is torn apart by their own shadow. We're hard to kill but not immortal, not when reduced to shredded, rotten meat. I feel the shadows of running feet, of dragons wheeling mid-air to change tactics, the obliteration of shadows that disappear in fire.

I come back to myself choking for air, and somehow, impossibly, Violet is holding me. I only feel the fever when her hands are cool on my cheeks, and I wait for something awful, something I know I deserve.

"Say something," I manage to get out.

"Come home."

So I do.

#xaden riorson #my fic #i am posting this because if i had to spend all afternoon marinating in suffering at least i'm not doing it alone

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saspitite · 7 months

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Needlessly Pedantic Answers to Worldbuilding Questions that Don't Matter That Much to Begin With, Episode #1:

why is everyone in your fictional world an animal? what do they eat? are there any non-sapient animals? is it more of a "Zootopia or Beastars" type situation? how does anatomy change across certain species?

so as nobody may know, i write about a lot of fictional worlds and one of them is your standard diverse furry society. while these are quite fun to mess around with, they tend to bring up a lot of questions (that technically don't matter too much, i mean you're just telling a fictional story for god's sake) about how the world works. and there's especially a lot of questions raised in my case because my world doesn't just feature mammals, but also reptiles, birds, amphibians, fish, and so on, so you wonder how differently they live, if at all. i'm gonna be evil and answer all of those questions that exactly -2 people have asked today!

1: why is everyone an animal?

of course, the real reason is because it's fun to explore stories and create characters that aren't human, and it's especially a fun opportunity to experiment with character design! but for a more in-universe reason, the gods like to take inspiration from each other and will tend to build off of each other's ideas. this world was made by the wandering god Belet, who became inspired after visiting several worlds of other gods. they were curious about creating a world where multiple sapient species exist, since it was a common trend in other worlds for only one dominant species existing at a time.

2. what do they eat?

naturally, all species are vegetarian, although some areas of the world have gotten to the point of inventing artificial foods adjacent to plant-based meat. the idea of cannibalism or killing other people to eat hasn't really been explored due to being kinda... dubious. but i guess it's up in the air. although it may sound weird, the practice of selling one's own dairy products and other non-meat animal products is quite normalized. it's basically just seen as the same level of normal as selling any other food items you make.

3. are there any non-sapient animals?

so far? nope. but that might get retconned in the future, i dunno. i haven't published enough about this world so i'm still able to reconsider if i wanted to. but as of right now, basically every single organism from the animalia kingdom is anthropomorphized, with a few exceptions. (exceptions usually being organisms i have no clue how to anthropomorphize lmao)

4. is it more of a "zootopia or beastars" type situation?

to expand on this question, it's basically asking for more information on how society functions and how fucked it is, if at all. initially i said it was going to be a utopia of sorts- i retconned that, lol, because it seems like i can't ever write about a truly happy world. it's definitely one of my better worlds to live in, but it's by no means perfect. i wouldn't say it's Beastars levels of messed up (black markets selling dubious meat and carnal instincts telling you to eat your friends) but it's probably not as cutesy as, say, Zootopia is on the surface level, although i do like how it tackled systemic racism and whatnot. i guess it's somewhere in between. there isn't anything going on that's straight out of a psychological horror movie but there's definitely inequality and tension everywhere.

5. how does anatomy change across certain species?

outside of the very obvious base change of every animal becoming anthropomorphic and thus more human-like, there's a couple other changes, such as necessary internal anatomy shifting around so all creatures can live on land properly, plus the ability to be able to speak the same languages, stuff like that. arthropods are a bit trickier (like oh my god so much would have to change) but i usually just explain that they're built different and call it a day. for my sanity. cold blooded animals are able to somewhat thermoregulate on their own, but will still largely rely on their surroundings. if you're cold, they're cold. wrap your lizard girls in blankets. also, all animals are similarly sized, but some tend to be slightly larger/smaller on average depending on the species. like, an old elephant man is gonna be MUCH taller than a moth lady lol.

oh, and an extremely unnecessary addition that i only expanded on because of the fact that i had to face the logical issue of giving my reptile characters boobs: non-mammalian animals will still tend to have visible "breasts" due to having the general silhouette of a human, but they don't produce milk or function at all outside of looks. some non-mammalians prefer to get their "breast" tissue surgically removed due to the fact that it serves basically no purpose for them.

that's about where the biological similarities end, though. when it comes to reproduction, biological compatibility largely follows the same odds as it would in the real world, so you sadly won't see many wolf/komodo dragon hybrids hanging out. this also tends to be a source of interspecies-relationship discrimination, and not to mention eugenics...

some miscellaneous tidbits:

-in terms of technology and resources, i'd say this world is about as advanced, if not a little more than our own. it's no sci-fi paradise but there are some significant advancements made that definitely outdo us, such as the research and technology poured into environment conservation and space exploration (the latter of which may or may not be one of the main topics of a story i'm working on... :3)

-trans healthcare is also reasonably advanced, although that doesn't imply there's less transphobia.

-yes, there's probably some unique version of veganism in this world, but instead of not eating animals it'd be like... fungi. or certain types of plants. or maybe even animal products anyways, despite the fact that they're normalized, for one reason or another.

-ohhhh clothes work so differently depending on what kind of animal you are. but i cannot get into that here. not without going insane. just know that i have been thinking about it a lot. there are entire different kinds of clothing for certain body types, just not the definition of body type you'd initially think of. there's specific clothing for the winged. the tailed and the non-tailed. the quilled. the feathered. the slimed. its insane

#sas spiels #sas stories #cant tell which one fits more here so im using both fuck you #belet's dream #worldbuilding #my writing #original writing #original world #furry #writing stuff #fantasy worldbuilding #i recounted everything from beastars off of very old memory do not attack me if i got something wrong

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twistedtummies2 · 8 months

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Year of the Bat - Number 2

Welcome to Year of the Bat! In honor of Kevin Conroy, Arleen Sorkin, and Richard Moll, I’ve been counting down my Top 31 Favorite Episodes of “Batman: The Animated Series” throughout this January. The time has come to present the penultimate place in the countdown! TODAY’S EPISODE QUOTE: “Are you the dreamer, or merely part of someone’s dream?” Number 2 is…Perchance to Dream.

This is another episode of B:TAS - like "Over the Edge" and "Growing Pains" - that feels almost like something out of “The Twilight Zone,” and that’s far from a bad thing. In memory of Kevin Conroy, I think it’s a great episode to feature, especially so high up, since I believe this was actually his personal favorite (although I might be remembering wrongly there, so don’t quote me on that). It’s certainly high up in my books, so one could hardly blame him. “Perchance to Dream” begins with a typical scenario: Batman is chasing some thugs, and follows them into a warehouse. While searching for the crooks, something suddenly crashes down and lands on his head…and when he wakes up, Bruce Wayne finds himself in a world that should simply not exist. His parents are still alive. He’s engaged to Selina Kyle, who has no idea who “Catwoman” even is. There’s no Batcave, and no Robin; not around Wayne Manor, anyway. In fact, while there IS a Batman in Gotham City, it seems someone else is in the costume, and none of the famous villains are anywhere to be found! It’s the perfect life, and Bruce soon starts to buy into it, wondering if all his escapades as the Caped Crusader were just a mad nightmare… …Which is why he starts to become unhinged when he starts to realize something is very wrong. When he tries to read, words don’t appear the way they should, turning out jumbled and fragmented. And no matter where he goes, the specter of Batman always seems to be lingering, at the corners of his own little world, never leaving him be. It all becomes too much, and Bruce starts to question his own sanity as he races to find the Dark Knight and tackle the problem head on: he has to know what’s real and what’s not. I can’t discuss more without giving away spoilers, so…SPOILER ALERT: it’s ultimately revealed that Bruce is inside a dream world, manufactured by the Mad Hatter. The Hatter has hooked Batman up to a “Dream Machine” in the real world, and now Bruce is trapped in “his own private Wonderland!” Refusing to live a lie, “no matter how attractive,” Bruce must find a way to escape his paradise-gone-wrong and return to reality.

Once again, there is SO MUCH I could talk about with this episode. One thing I will say is that, after perhaps “Mask of the Phantasm,” this is Kevin Conroy’s absolute greatest performance as Batman/Bruce, at least within the DCAU. I love the way we literally get into Batman’s head with this, as he REJECTS his own paradise in favor of carrying out his duty as a hero. You can read into that in several ways, both positive AND negative. It’s also a great episode for the Mad Hatter! While his actual time onscreen is small, the Hatter steals the show once he enters the frame. I love how his “evil scheme” isn’t to turn Batman into a warped servant, nor even to kill him, but just to get him out of the way. And his way of doing that isn’t through horrible means, but by actually trying to APPEASE the Dark Knight, and make him WANT to stay out of the Hatter’s business. The emotion McDowall puts into his delivery when the Hatter confronts the Caped Crusader is one of the absolute best moments for the character I’ve ever seen, and one of the best moments in the entire SERIES. It’s only heightened by the animation; apparently, the creators had to really push McDowall to give that level of intensity, and it pays off in spades.

As much as I love the Mad Hatter though, and this episode – like “Mad as a Hatter” – is a big part of why I adore this villain, especially in this particular rendition…it really is Batman himself, and the surreal, strange plot, that makes this so great. We know it’s all too good to be true, but watching Bruce buy into it while knowing his heart is going to be broken is such an engaging experience. This episode is similar to “Over the Edge” in a lot of ways, but it plays with things on a different angle and perspective, and raises some interesting questions. If everything we ever wanted was put on a silver platter for us to take, how would we react? If we found out there was a big catch to it, what would get us to bite or to refuse? How wicked is it to give someone so much with such a catch, and how noble or even healthy is it to deny oneself happiness, no matter how it’s earned? “Aye, there’s the rub.”

Tomorrow, the countdown concludes with my number one pick! Hint: “You’d think one of us would have got ‘im by now.”

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cloudbattrolls · 2 years

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All Alone

Sometimes I don’t have eyes.

Sometimes I have so many eyes that everything is a breathtaking web of angles and perspectives, no space left unseen. Sometimes I grow eyes to see all the colors trolls cannot, to view all the wavelengths that pass by, invisible!

How awful, that trolls can see so little. I feel for them! I feel for the part of myself that wants to be wrapped up and isolated in my first form all the time - a sort of death, for me. Stasis, at least.

Terrible. I was never meant to stay still.

Not that any living thing is ever fully at rest. Cells divide, matter passes in and out, gasses exchange. What a beautiful collection of processes we all are! What wonderful harmonies!

Other part of me - please learn to be honest that you enjoy this.

You are not wrong for existing. It doesn’t hurt others to love what you are.

Thrixe’s lip curled in disdain as he read the notes he’d left himself. The things he said in his full horrorterror state! Ridiculous. As if any of that was at all respectable to talk about.

Yes, he had to be that way at times for his health and sanity, that much was inescapable. But the least he could do was keep it private.

He looked up at the currently uncovered viewing window of his underwater hivestem block. Colorful fish passed by, and he could glimpse a sea serpent weaving back and forth in the distance.

Atlantis was a good place for seadwellers, for him in particular; he could blend in here, far less noticeable among the unusually high population of violets and fuchsias that existed. Even a few off-caste folk could be seen, some hiding it, some flaunting their illegally colored fins and gills as if to dare someone to try culling them. Tails were thought little of. Ullane would like that.

He looked back down at the notes on his desk - well. Notes was a generous term. In his horrorterror state he took down observations in several forms besides writing. Living, growing structures of flesh whose altered DNA held messages in the double helixes, packets of song given physical form that could be activated with a word or touch.

The former grew like glistening violet spiderwebs in one corner where the brown desk met the hive’s dark stone wall, while the latter hung as nets of pale crystalline shards suspended in midair over its surface.

The constructs smelled of salt and the sea, but not badly, he thought. It wasn’t like he had visitors here - if he did he’d be sure to hide such things.

Typical, that he couldn’t even take normal records of his work and thoughts in that form. It wouldn’t be hard!

He’d have to try and keep more of his troll sensibilities next time he changed shape, that was all. He could civilize himself.

He had to be better. It was the only way to balance out all his…developments.

Zanzul would scold him if he called them freakish aberrations. She was no stranger to elbowing him or prodding him with her spiny limbs if she felt he was acting badly.

But that’s what they were. Even if it was normal for them, they couldn’t act like it was normal, for politeness’ and honesty’s sake.

He had tried multiple times to explain that to her and Zanzul didn’t listen, so he’d given up.

Thrixe drummed his slightly webbed fingers against his desk, the cool ceramic pleasant under his skin.

What if he tried to engineer himself so that he always kept his troll mind, regardless of form? Surely it was possible.

He remembered, briefly and with discomfort, how Ullane had meddled with her own mind…but this was different! He wouldn’t hurt himself. He’d learned so much since discovering Uryali’s world.

Besides, this was for everyone’s safety.

He paused. Just in case something happened, he should probably do it deep down in the ocean, where he wouldn’t hurt anyone. Yes, he could have gone to the pocket world…but he craved the real ocean, the deep ocean he’d come from sweeps ago.

Thrixe opened the door to his underwater lobby, though the lobby itself had a wall with a door in the middle, as an extra measure to keep the water out. Past that, after he’d sealed it, lay the door to the ocean. Biotech sponges dried the water that came in after every use, easily keeping up as long as he quickly came in and out.

He relaxed as he settled into the cold waters, perfectly dressed for them in a black and violet bodysuit that covered him aside from his face and hands, his curly hair floating free from its usual braid. Thrixe’s glow spots lit up, naturally providing illumination, though he was only in the underside of the city; hardly deep down at all.

The hybrid swam swiftly and surely down, the currents bothering him little, and the sea serpents and aquatic dragons knew not to bother him.

He’d fought a few who hadn’t gotten the message when he’d first moved here. The sharks attracted by the ensuing bloodbath had discouraged any others from trying.

It took some time, but he made it to where the sunlight vanished for good, the edge of the sea’s true depths. The water was clearer down here, and his gills flared, taking it in. He glowed brightly from his fins and his facial spots, and little fishes swam around him, attracted by his light - only to be snapped up by larger ones.

He was tempted to eat one himself…but what would Mikiel think? Snapping up raw fish like a feral? That wasn’t proper highblood behavior.

His glowing eyes watched the larger fish dart about, his digestion sac grumbling.

Guiltily, he speared one with a tendril grown from one of his hands and ate it, then retracted the spiny growth. His moirail never had to know.

Satisfied, he closed his eyes, focusing as life still swirled around him.

Thrixe changed.

His troll body warped to starfish flesh, spiny and full of tube feet, growing numerous eyes and mouths, engulfing the fish that strayed too close to him because - sorry, fish - he realized he was still hungry.

He grew and grew, extending his many arms and his head, his legs, his tendrils and tentacles. He filled the dark, crushing waters as a glowing, rippling creature whom bubbles rippled around in a massive sheet.

The Choir hummed softly, happy to be back in this state. But his song soon stopped as his troll aspect tried to assert itself - and succeeded. He tilted his great head, eyes blinking, and his happiness waned as he realized how big he was, how he’d just eaten all those fish, fed into his many mouths. How horrible he must look!

At least no one could see him here, at the border of the midnight zone.

He shut his many eyes. He needed to act better when he was like this, no matter how tempting it was to start prodding at the fish and other ambient life, at the currents of the depths…

No. He’d grown too careless lately! This wasn’t something to be enjoyed. Had he forgotten what had happened to the Siren and Uryali?

His powers were useful, that was all, just useful enough to outweigh how wrong they were.

He didn’t have to be wrong. He could be decent and respectable and normal.

…He could act like it, at least.

Didn’t it count because he wanted it so much? Because he didn’t want anyone to suffer his strangeness?

That meant something, didn’t it?

Endless tons of water pressed down on him, and without him even meaning for it, his limbs extended further, questing for more organic material to consume or alter.

He stopped them. He would be still. He wouldn’t give in.

Exhaustion set into Thrixe. This was possible, but it was draining…he had better turn back. At least he knew it was possible now.

He began to shed his starfish flesh.

Rather, he tried to.

It wouldn’t dissolve.

A spurt of panic entered him, his many limbs writhing wildly as he tried again, and again, and again. No. No.

No.

A terrible despairing vibration swept through the deep waters from his body, for somehow he had become stuck, unable to return to troll form.

Thrixe trembled all over. He had his mind, blessedly he still had his mind, but why not his body? Why wouldn’t it obey him? He had to go back!

If he couldn’t go back, he had to stay down here.

If he couldn’t change back, he had to be alone in the depths where no one could see him and he couldn’t hurt anyone.

Thrixe could not sniffle - he had no nose - but he felt as if he still did it, somehow.

He would fix this. He would fix this, no matter what.

In the meantime…

He calmed himself enough to compose a message for his friends who knew what he was, and one for Mikiel.

He sent his moirail’s first - a recording condensed into crystalline form, waiting for him at his hiveblock. It was shaped like a diamond, of course.

Mikiel -

Something went wrong with one of my experiments. I’m fine, but I can’t come back until I fix it. I don’t know how long it will take - I’m hoping no longer than a few nights. Did you get that artisan olive oil I sent you? Good, right?

I hope work is okay. Freeze some monsters for me.

- Thrixe

The one he sent to his friends was more generic, but he still asked them how they all were and warned them he was unavailable while he fixed his experiment.

Zanzul…Thrixe winced at the idea of telling his signmate what he’d done. He knew she wouldn’t approve. Maybe he could fix himself before she found out.

He sent one last message to the clinic itself.

Could someone feed Archimedes? I sent him to stay while I’m gone. Please look after him while I’m away.

Thrixe swam toward a continental shelf and carved himself a hollow to curl up in. Rock crumbled away into the ocean as he squeezed himself in, curling up into a huddled violet mass.

Humming quietly, he tried to sing himself to sleep in the cold, dark depths.

#thrixe varzim #cloud writes #oops he got stuck

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skorchinq · 2 years

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Bows Only: The Power of Anemo!

[IDs in alt text]

We last left off having finally ascended past AR 35 (and immediately jumping up to AR 39). With the shop reset coming up, a five star was guaranteed to be soon on standard banner, but the real question was if I could get a 5* on Venti’s banner before it ended...

But first, one more thing I pulled before the month ended:

Ooh, new weapon! This could be good for Fischl or Collei, lemme just ascend it real quick--

Oh.

And then, the month of October began, and I went to the shop for my 5 intertwined and acquaint fates.

And in the FIRST SINGLE PULL, on I believe 50-something pity...

HE CAME HOME!!!

So of course, I instantly stopped pulling. We gotta save those remaining 4 fates for whatever bow character comes next, we’re not going for cons!

(Though, I have to admit, as someone who’s had him C1 for pretty much all the time I’ve had him on my main, I find it a little bit jarring that his charged shots only have one arrow on this account.)

I switched over to the standard banner and, on the FIRST SINGLE PULL I MADE, it turned gold again! Could it be? Is Tighnari coming home?

HECK

so fun fact Despite still not having Jean on my main and having literally only gotten Qiqi a few days ago as I’m writing this, I have gotten Keqing on my main. Several times. And it was always immediately following a Venti. So, uh... this is kind of ironic.

I spent the last 4 single pulls. Nothing but blues. I ascended Venti and Keqing for 2 more acquaint fates. And, wouldn’t you know it, on the very last one, at a mere 6 pity, we got another 5*, and it was--

SON OF A GUN

Well. anyways. It’s time to get everyone’s favorite bard up to speed with the rest of the crew!

Perfection.

By the way, are you all familiar with that one daily commission you can get in Mondstadt where Jilliana asks you to clean a Statue of the Seven, and you need to use anemo to blow the elemental dust away?

And did you know that if you go to the statue after Jilliana asks you too, see the dust, and don’t clean it off, it actually remains there after the day is over and the commission can no longer be done? That the statue is just permanently dirty until you clean it?

Because I learned that the hard way!

For the sake of my sanity, the first task we must do with our newly acquired anemo is clean these statues!

Here’s some before and after photos of Venti’s hard work.

Great job, Venti!

You know, it’s funny, cause there’s a dialogue option in that commission where the Traveler asks Jilliana why the wind doesn’t just blow the dust off the statue, and she answers that the Anemo Archon already does so much and we can’t ask him to clean his own statues.. and yet. He’s the only one who can.

I’m sorry for taking so long to finally clean these Statues of the Seven, Jilliana.

I’m sorry to Venti, for making you clean your own statues.

But most of all...

...

I’m sorry, Neko, for taking so long to clean up Asase shrine. Now would you PLEASE UNLOCK MY CO-OP.

(And I’m sorry again to Venti for making you clean the shrine, too. Yes, I know it’s full of cats, but you’re the only one who could do it and it needed to be done!)

You know what I suddenly just remembered. I still haven’t done Kaeya’s story quest. I didn’t do it at first because there’s a part you need cryo for and I didn’t have cryo at the time, but... I’ve had Diona for a while, now. I just kinda forgot about that.

Although, looking at the story quest tab, the event should probably take precedence, huh? We’ll do Kaeya’s quest another time.

Oh, and now that co-op is unlocked... I can finally enter the teapot!

Gee, I wonder...

VENTI!!!! VENTIVENTIVENTIVENTIVENTI!!!!! VENTI IN MY HOUSE!!!!!

(I say as though I do not also keep him in my teapot 24/7 on my main account)

See, the thing about the teapot is that most of the crafting recipes require wood, which I can’t collect with bows...

I do actually have a bit of wood. 5 logs to be specific. 3 were from when I chopped a tree to get sunsettias at the very beginning of the game with Aether, before I even got Amber. I expected it to be the only wood I’d ever have.

I’m. not sure where the other two came from. They just sort of?? appeared in my inventory?? One I even saw being picked up by my characters... it was while I was fighting some hillichurls in dragonspine for a daily commission, and the in the middle of the fight on the left side of my screen I see “pine wood x1″ and I’m just like. Huh????

I tested some of my characters’ skills on some trees afterwards to see of one of them could actually collect wood, but, no luck. My next best guess is that maybe the shield mitachurl’s attack where it whacks you with its shield can knock wood from trees? But I don’t really know how I’d test that, so...

My point with this all is just that I have no access to wood-- at least, not until I do the Sumeru Archon quest and unlock Sumeru reputation. There’s a gadget you can get as a reputation reward there that can collect wood. But that’s a long way off, since I’ve pretty much been ignoring Archon quests on this account for now. I’ll probably wait at least a couple months more before doing the Sumeru Archon questline on this account, so it’s not so fresh in my memory from doing it on my main.

But, even so, I’m trying to make my teapot look as lovely as possible with the furniture I’m given as gifts/rewards and the blueprints that don’t involve wood!

Anyway! Enough about the teapot. Now that we have anemo, we also have access to Cecilia Garden, AKA the Mondstadt weapon domain. Which means we can finally upgrade that Stringless (which I’ve decided to give to Venti), as well as a few other weapons looking for another ascension.

Holy crap, foddering 5* weapons gives a ton of exp! Well, that’s convenient! At least the 5* catalyst I got is useful for something, then.

Anyway, look what I got from wishing more on Venti’s banner B)

New bow!

And I know, I know, I said I wasn’t going to pull on Venti’s banner anymore, but I needed more starglitter, okay? Why, you might be asking? Well, for this, of course!

Amber’s got a phys dps / shotgun build, so having her C1 makes her much more powerful!

Now that I’ve got what I needed, I’ll stop pulling and start saving for real. Our next priority will be doing some story quests and hangout events, as well as grinding up our characters for the next Adventure Rank ascension, which is coming up quick! Actually, one we reach AR 45, we unlock the highest level of artifact domains... it’s a good thing our co-op isn’t locked anymore, it means we can easily farm some artifacts for our characters!

What would you all recommend farming for? Mainly asking for our current characters, but if you have suggestions for bow characters we haven’t gotten yet I’d love to hear that as well!

And remember, character details are on in the character showcase, so feel free to take a look at all my chars’ builds!

#Genshin Impact #Bows Only #Venti #Amber #serenitea pot

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strongislandsuperfan · 2 years

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A Matter of Heart

Monday night, Jan. 3, 2023. A night that will burn in our memories for a long time. It was the Buffalo Bills vs the Cincinnati Bengals in one of the most important NFL games concluding week 17. There were 5 minutes and 38 seconds left in the first quarter when the unthinkable happened. Bills cornerback Damar Hamlin completed a tackle on Cincinnati wide receiver William “Tee” Higgins. After he attempted to stand up he quickly collapsed.

Many people blame it on the violence and barbaric tackling, which is part of the game of football. Some even going as far as blaming the opponent, Tee Higgins, as the catalyst for this.

Others blame it on a certain topic that I am not particularly fond of writing about nor do I pride myself on searching for conspiracy theories linking baseless arguments with unproven evidence. Of course I am talking about the link between sudden heart failure and the COVID-19 vaccines.

For the sake of my employment and for the sake of my own sanity, I refuse to entertain that topic. However, when circumstances such as this occurs, that coincides with 69 other athletes that have suffered similar fates, with some not surviving, one does have to raise questions and begin to look at the athlete's condition, as well as our own. Sometimes, you can't help to wonder "what if that other perspective is right?", especially when baseless arguments and unproven evidence ends up becoming reality, whether you see it as coincidental or circumstantial.

After more research and more updates, thankfully, that is not the case. The reason for the collapse, according to doctors, was due to a one in a million chance at being struck in the right place at the wrong time. The result, for Damar, was commotio cordis. Those unfamiliar with the term, including me, commotio cordis is a disruption of a heart beat due to a massive blow after being struck in the chest. As severe as this injury is, commotio cordis is very rare, according to medical professionals. In this case, the play/tackle in question was one of those one in a million shots that did happen.

Thankfully, Damar Hamlin is on the road to recovery.

Now comes the uncomfortable part of this, from the conspiracy theories being peddled around to the ominous virtue signaling and fake love being shown to this young man, we need to have some truth.

First off, Tee Higgins is not to blame for this. What happened that night, was a legal play that is part of the game of football. The circumstance was literally a freak accident. That is all. To ruin this young man's career and mental health over a rare circumstance that no one could have predicted is just flat out wrong. Thankfully, Damar Hamlin's family, Josh Allen & his teammates, as well as fans of the Buffalo Bills and sports fans with at least an ounce of decency and common sense (myself included) have rushed to Tee Higgins defense & told the media and keyboard warriors of the internet to back off.

Secondly, I am of the opinion that the game of football has the potential to become vicious, especially if you take into account the amount of injuries that can pile up. However, the overall game itself isn't necessarily dangerous. Of course, some will bring up the argument of former players suffering from CTE, where too many blows to the head can cause memory loss, cognitive issues and altered behavior. With more research and better safety protocols & more emphasis on safer tackling techniques, we can only hope that the game itself proves to be safer in the long run. Even with the improvements, I am not so naive to not take into consideration that this is a gladiator sport, with risk involved.

Lastly, the fake love needs to stop! The majority of you aren't even Buffalo Bills fans, let alone even heard of this young man Damar Hamlin. Case in point, Hamlin's charity, Chasing M's, which is a foundation that provides scholarships and promotes education for high school and college athletes. Up until the night of January 3rd, the majority of fans (myself included) had never even heard of this charity or heard about the toy drive that was launched on GoFundMe, which was simply asking to reach its financial goal of $2,500. Less than 24 hours after the freak on field accident occurred, the charity raised over $4 million dollars. One reporter on Sportico.com even said that the amount was worth more than Hamlin's rookie contract with the Buffalo Bills, which is $3.6 million.

Look, I'm not trying to be a hater or trying to stifle the dreams and goals that this charity was intended for, but, where was all this adulation when Damar Hamlin was healthy and could take a hit on the field, without any accidents? Then again, I really can't hold it against people who suddenly spring to a panic to make things right, but, it shouldn't take circumstances like this to give people their flowers or showcase concern.

For the record, and this is nothing against Hamlin's charity or people's sincere intentions, but as the donations, prayers & praises poured in, the same should continue to come in for the medical staff & hospital workers that used every resource possible to bring Hamlin back to life. There names are Nate Breske, Denny Kellington (the man that administered CPR on Hamlin), Joe Micca, Tabani Richards, Dr. Leslie Bisson, Dr. Tom White, Dr. Mark Kim, Dr. Marc Fineberg, Joe Collins, Dr. Desaree Festa, Marissa Figueroa, Dr. Zachary Musial, Kelsey Harkins, and Kori Reblin.

I am praying for a steady recovery for this young man, as he does have quite a road to recovery ahead of him. What happened to Damar Hamlin not only should raise concerns for our players and the safety & practices of tackling techniques, but it should also give us new found respect for these young athletes that put themselves on the line, to showcase their God-given talents.

It should also give us a reminder to appreciate the life many of us still have, as there is always that one in a million chance, it could be hanging in the balance, with either a miraculous or tragic result.

#nfl #football #pray for damar

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swtorramblings · 2 years

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Masks-5: New Growth

Farmer Vaylin by @fleeting-sanity. And she didn’t even use the ashes from Voss. Yet.

Chapter List

She felt it again, the pull. The call to rest, to know nothing. The dirt, waiting for her flesh. The Force, waiting for her spirit. The dead, her dead, staring with vacant eyes, their emaciated hands clawing at her, trying to drag her down, to make her one of them.

Worms and rot, trying to reclaim what was theirs. It all swirled in her vision, and in the center? Her brother, holding out a hand. Beckoning. Telling her it would be all right. She pulled her fingers from the soil, the last of the seeds planted. She had wanted to do this by hand, to be connected to the life she had returned to, but all she had felt was death. The things that had decayed to replenish the soil, the piled corpses that her plants would grow from. That’s where she should be, down there, feeding some new life, her tortured existence hopefully nourishing something new. And she would. Some day. But it would be on her terms, by her choice. They would all just have to wait. She stood, dusting off her hands and her pants legs, surveying the small farm. She smiled a bit. They’d called her an animal, a depraved monster, capable of nothing but violence and destruction. She didn’t even disagree, not really, but she still took pleasure showing she could be something else, if she wanted to be. She realized she was spinning her souvenir from the battle in her hand, her index finger hooked through the eye of Nihilus’ broken mask. She had taken to doing that to help her focus. Also to distract herself at times. It was also a comforting relic of what happened to those who tried to use her against her will. “Hey,” Kira said, and a towel hit Vaylin in the face as she turned. She glared at her keeper for a moment, then used the towel to wipe off the sweat and the dirt from her day’s work. “Why do you test my patience?” The Jedi grinned. “To see if you have any.”

Former Grandmaster Satele Shan woke from the medical coma. She stretched out with her mind, feeling her broken body, the body she had abused with a dark trick to stay in the fight. Wielding it like a weapon, like a puppet. Feeling the taint of her own corruption. She wondered if she should have let go. Could they have won without her? Had her pride driven her, instead of the needs of the Force? She had been so certain she was still needed. Had she clung too hard to that belief? It didn’t matter. She had done what she had felt was right. To dwell too long on her actions would just be another form of attachment. To view them as entirely one thing or another was just another absolute. And she had lived. She would make of that what she could, whatever the struggle.

While she had been unconscious, Theron Shan had called in favors, pulled together some of the greatest medical minds the galaxy had to treat his mother. He wasn’t sure she would approve, and decided that he basically didn’t care much. She had helped to save the galaxy, and paid for it. He would see that she got whatever care she needed. If she woke and said she didn’t want this, he would try to respect her wishes. Until then, he would help however he could. He turned back to tallying the dead. Some, like Jadus, were no loss to the galaxy, but they had still fought for it to the last. He would note that in his reports. He had more mixed feelings about several Alliance members, like Kaliyo and Rusk. Risha hit a bit harder, her last words recorded as her ship flared out of existence over the battlefield. So many names, many he didn’t know. He leaned back and rubbed his eyes, the memorial announcement nearly done. There was one that he knew would not be missed, though. At one time, he would have toasted his ending. Now, though, he couldn’t yet bring himself to be rid of him. “You have dwelt too long on the dead. Perhaps we should go to see to the living,” said Arcann in his mind. “Yeah, I need a break. We can go check on Senya, see how she’s recovering.” “Thank you.”

#Vaylin #Satele Shan #kira carsen #Theron Shan #MasksSWTOR

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cinnamonest · 3 years

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//some horrendous gaslighting

I love my stranger-to-noncon very much but I don't give enough attention to consensual relationships taking a turn for the worse, or utterly toxic and abusive boyfriends and Kaeya is the perfect candidate for that so here we go.

-----

I've mentioned before the Kaeya would be exceptionally violent in comparison to other yanderes, but it's important to note that he's also among the most emotionally sensitive, and those two things do not go together well.

Not sensitive outwardly, of course, he's spent years developing that personality of his as a defense mechanism, can easily pretend he doesn't care about anything, but deep down that abandonment complex and those insecurities are strong and easily triggered. Some of the ways it manifests are mild, like how he gets overly attached to you within a week of knowing you, commits and tries to move way too fast even in completely mutual and consensual relationships. The kind of guy that suggests moving in together a week into the relationship, and dropping I love you so early on that you're left to merely blink in surprise because you barely know each other, but under the pressure and awkwardness you find yourself stuttering out a reciprocation, even though it's quite untrue. Guilt-trips and pressures his way into fucking you within a couple of days.

He's a very different person behind closed doors, it comes out maybe a month in when he lets the walls drop and lets himself trust you. He's more vulnerable, sweeter. Oddly... Eager to trust. It's like he desperately wants someone he can latch onto and show some vulnerability around and chose you to be that someone.

But also different in other ways. More... Bitter. More grumpy. More immature.

He's not sensitive in general, he doesn't really care about what most people say or do, but that sensitivity comes out once he's attached to a person, which happens rather quickly. You start noticing it rather quickly in a mutual relationship, and it likely shocks you honestly that he's so... immature. You spend the day with one of your friends -- just one, catch up with them, haven't seen them in a while... and when you get home things are rather quiet. He's usually a very talkative person, so you can't figure out what's wrong. Maybe something bad happened, but he insists no, it's fine. There's nothing wrong. And then you catch the last part, much quieter, spoken under his breath in that lighthearted tone he speaks in, yet with a bitterness to it.

You wouldn't care anyway, you're too busy with your friends.

It takes you by surprise at first because holy shit, really? It seems so petulant that it can't possibly be real, but... Maybe he really did have a bad day and is just getting his anger out by directing it at the first thing he can. That's not right, but hey, everyone has weak moments where they do some bad things. Besides, you weren't there for him, so he feels worse right? Still, you spent every day the past month except this one day with him... No, it's just poor timing, that's all.

Until it happens again. And again. And he swears he likes your friends, smiles at them, but it... Looks forced. Always complaining that you spend so much time with them and completely ignore him. Do you even care? Do you value the relationship at all? You try to not get angry and be rational, but still defend yourself because you spend almost all of your time with him don't you? You can't get much out before he just huffs and stomps away, rolls his eyes (well, you assume he rolls both of them, you can't tell but-- nevermind, not the point) and gives you a cold shoulder. Until you apologize, then it's like the switch has flipped back on, there's love and smiles and warmth and hugs again.

It starts to get on your nerves. You start to wonder if maybe this isn't healthy for you, if maybe you should end things, but you decide to give him another chance, right? We all make mistakes. He's under a lot of stress. Just... It'll be fine.

And the first time it gets physical he swears it's an accident. It leaves an ugly scar. You're going out because come on, it's my family, I haven't seen them in forever.

It just happens, he explains, it's unintentional, emotions get channeled through the vision like that. Comforts you as you sit on the ground crying and clutching your arm that he grabbed as you walked out the door, skin darkened and purplish from the freeze that's seared through a layer of your skin. He sighs and says he's sorry, really, he feels horrible already, so don't get mad, ok? He already feels terrible enough... Don't be mean. He didn't mean it. Don't be mean. Don't be fucking mean about it, stop fucking crying. You're making him feel worse.

He seems genuinely sorry, you tell yourself. It's not his fault. You can't blame him. It's ok.

It's harder to excuse the next time it gets physical. Maybe freezing last time was unintentional, and maybe it hurt, but you weren't terrified like this. A hand around your throat is different.

But can you blame him? You were threatening to leave. Honestly, you weren't approaching it healthily, you weren't trying to actually have a serious talk, you were trying to guilt him and gaslight him and it's honestly emotionally abusive, you know? You're the one in the wrong here. How selfish and cruel. How can you do that and not even feel guilty?

It makes you rethink. It makes you question your own sanity. And it makes you apologize. Makes you say you didn't mean it. You find yourself feeling dizzy, disoriented, like everything isn't real and everything is too much. You try to sleep it off.

And he doesn't like delving into the past. He tries to avoid it. Tries to not think about it. Doesn't even really tell you anything until nearly a year in, a drunken confession of sadness and misery. It makes you feel guilty somehow. Poor thing. He's been through a lot, you tell yourself. Maybe you should be more patient and understanding, help him work through it. You can fix him, per se, can't you? Sure, people say that never works, but... He just needs love, really, it's not like he's that bad.

He hates bringing it up like this even more. It just feels weak and vulnerable but it comes out anyway. You're threatening him again, and honestly, that's a sickening thing to do considering what you know, how can you be so vicious?

You're just like everyone else, aren't you?

You're just going to abandon him like this was nothing. You don't care at all. You're heartless. Ungrateful. He's done so much for you. And this is how you repay him, huh? Disappointing, honestly. He thought you were special. Kind. Understanding. Didn't realize you were just as cruel as everyone else in his life, aren't you?

He just has this way of making you doubt yourself. You pull at your hair and cry. I'm going insane. You keep the thought to yourself, but you fall to your knees and promise you're really sorry this time. He sighs. Fine, he'll give you another chance. He's a patient man. You just need to work on yourself, become a less toxic person.

But apparently that's not enough, and eventually you get dumped.

It comes as a surprise. But he says he's had enough of you being so emotionally manipulative and neglectful. You hardly ever spend time with him (like, only 29 days a month? Unbelievable!). You cry and try to make him feel bad, when the things he does aren't that bad. You always claim to be too tired to fuck. You try to gaslight him into thinking all that's acceptable. It's toxic and abusive, so, he's done.

You find yourself in shock. Confusion. It feels unreal. The first thing you worry about is if you can even find a new boyfriend... Your body is completely littered in freeze-burn scars by now, after all.

Were you really in the wrong? You're not too experienced in relationships, maybe he's right about everything he said... Maybe you really did him wrong...

Which is why you come crawling back. Crying. Apologizing.

Exactly as planned.

So he sighs and agrees. Fine. You can have another chance.

The second time, the third time, he always forgives you and takes you back. Even though you don't deserve it. He just loves you so much, you know? He keeps forgiving you.

Until one day you don't show up.

When you leave that time, you seem almost angry. You don't cry this time. Your hands ball into fists and for once, for the first time, as you storm out, you say--

Fine.

Unusual, but you were always moody like that. Odd choice of words. No matter, it's not like you're actually fine with it, you'll come crawling back any minute now.

It's already been several hours. Why aren't you at his doorstep already? Did he make you feel that bad? Maybe he went too far... You're probably just at home crying or something. You'll come back by tomorrow morning.

You don't.

Ok. Maybe you feel too guilty. Maybe you're reflecting on how awful you've been. That would take some time to get over, since you've done so many bad things. It won't be long before you come back.

A day passes. Two days pass.

What's taking you so long?

He finally swallows his pride. Maybe you're being stubborn. Trying to make him feel bad. Yeah, that's something you'd do. Or maybe you're trying to make him feel all alone, take advantage of the one thing you know bothers him. How mean. But he loves you. You know that. So you'll appreciate it when he checks on you, apologizes for maybe going too far, and he really loves you, he loves you so much, so how about you two just go home and forget this ever happened and have lots and lots of makeup sex and cuddle? And then you can tell him you're sorry and love him too and promise to stay forever? He's already got the speech practiced a few times in his head walking over to your place, the one you haven't really lived in for a while now since he demanded you basically move in with him. All your clothes and stuff are at his place now. You would have taken that with you if you ever actually intended to leave, so clearly this is a ploy to get him to come to you, as if that wasn't already obvious.

Your eyes narrow when you open the door and your face contorts with anger. And you snarl that you've had enough. He wants you gone so much, fine, you're more than happy to oblige, you say. You're done. You don't even need your shit, keep it, you'd rather lose your stuff than set foot in that place again. You finally came to your senses and you're fucking done.

You say nasty things. You say he made your life a living hell and you're happy to be rid of him.

And then you say something worse. Something that sets something deep inside off. Something that feels like a stab to the gut.

You say if you'd known the truth about him you would have kicked him out a long time ago.

Maybe it's not about the same thing. Not meant the same way. But it feels too familiar nonetheless.

You see him freeze up. He just stands still for a moment. Not saying anything. Face blank and empty. His eye twitches.

You couldn't care less. Besides, you already have a new boyfriend, one that's nice to you, you tell him with a prideful spite in your voice. One that doesn't have fucking issues. You're not a therapist, you say, and you tell him to figure out his problems on his own, and you slam the door in his face.

Or, you try to. He catches the door before it can close with one hand. Grabs your arm with the other.

For once he doesn't say anything, not until you make him. Just grabs you, drags you down the street by your shirt. It nearly chokes you, but you manage to start to scream. He slams your back into the nearest building, grabs your shoulders and says to shut the fuck up or I'll break your fucking arms. You go wide eyed and scared tears run down you're face. You're scaring me, you plead. Let me go.

But he doesn't. You figure maybe you can talk sense into him when you get there. You don't realize how far gone he is, you don't think that this might be the last time you set foot outside, the last time you see the sun not through a window. You don't think any of the things you'll wish you had down the road.

You've had rough sex before. Not quite like this, though. You can't breathe. You kick and wheeze and cry and claw at the hand around your throat and desperately gasp for what little air you can get in. He only lets go when you black out, lets you take a few breaths, then does it again. You're still so tight. New boyfriend must not have measured up, huh. It's raw and dry and it hurts. You whimper and you cry and you finally apologize like you should have days ago.

And yet, most importantly, you cum. See? You love him. So say it. Say it already. Come on. You do, you stutter, it's quiet and scared, but he smiles nonetheless.

It's ok. He knows you're sorry. He knows you didn't mean those awful things you said. You would never actually abandon him. You're different. Different. Special. Not like everyone else. You won't leave. You won't just leave him somewhere and disappear, you won't die out of nowhere, you won't kick him aside and leave him alone, you're the only person who won't. Different. That's why he loves you so much. You would never do any of that.

You just need help. You're so emotional, you're really not emotionally stable. Controlled by your wildly changing emotions. They make you say things you don't mean. Do things you don't really intend to do. Things you'll just regret if he didn't intervene and help you.

They make you vulnerable to other people. You're so easily controlled. You believe what they want you to believe. And that's dangerous. That could lead you to try to leave again. That's why you have to be helped. Kept away from becoming victim to your own impulses. The only way to do that is keeping you locked away. You'll come to understand with time. Appreciate it. Thank him.

You'll appreciate it because you're different. You'll never leave. You would never leave him even if you had the opportunity.

But maybe it's for the best that you don't have that opportunity to begin with.

#scheduled post #yan.txt #.ky

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