#this is mostly for myself because i wanted to collect all these things together

[jinnie-ret]

placebo

stray kids x hybrid!ninth!reader (fem)

genre: light angst, mostly fluffy

content warnings: small swearing, mention of disease, mention of vaccination

word count: 1.8k

summary: the boys are shocked at how your hybrid features present themselves when you are feeling particularly emotional

requested: @shua-f4lmings

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How could it ever work being a Kpop idol when you were forced to hide a part of our identity every day? Well, you managed somehow. Despite the fact that you were a hybrid, JYPE still accepted your audition and allowed you to become a trainee. You felt fortunate that you didn't face direct discrimination from the company, considering you were part of a rare few, an experimental collective, of children that had turned into hybrids against their will. You see, there had once been terrible news of a new outbreak of an autoimmune disease breaking out, during your childhood, so when a vaccination was created, your parents had rushed at the opportunity to make sure you were safe. Little did you know, did anyone know, that it was in fact a scam. The disease - a hoax. The vaccination - contained a serum that caused you to experience genetic mutations and develop physical attributes very similar to a cat, all because of some deceiving scientists that wanted to experiment.

Luckily, you had learnt to love yourself and your feline features. Your fluffy black ears that helped your hearing become more sensitive, and perhaps even more attuned to music, your tail that would swish and perk up anytime you saw your members or somebody you loved, these all became things that you appreciated. It truly showed your strength and determination to not let anybody get you down, particularly when you used to feel like the black sheep, or, black cat, of the family.

You remember that it was not too long after Chan had gathered you all together as a unit, pre-debut, that you decided to reveal this side of you. After all, you could only wear baggy sweatshirts and beanies for so long.

"Guys, can I tell you something?" you spoke up after you were all sat evaluating a dance practice.

"I think we really should practice this dance again, can it wait?" Chan pondered, not wanting to miss any rehearsal time, especially since the new TV debut show was on the horizon.

"Please, it's important," you had urged them all, your future group members, not wanting to withheld this information from them for any longer.

"Ok, sure," Chan nodded and turned his phone off, before everyone was looking at you as you stood up.

"Is everything ok?" Hyunjin frowned.

"Yeah, I just want to share this side of myself to you. I've not been honest," you began, confident in yourself, just unsure about what their reactions would be.

"If we're going to be a group..." Changbin tilted his head.

"-that's why I'm telling you now! Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you. Umm," you apologised, feeling guilty.

"It's ok," Changbin nodded, seeing the weight of the situation in your eyes.

"Please can you just tell us? The suspense is killing me," Jisung groaned, whining after when Minho smacked him on the back without even looking.

"I don't know how to say it so..." you had taken a deep breath before pulling your beanie off, ruffling your hair back into plsce and ultimately revealing your ears. It had seemed like some sort of headband at first, but seeing the way your ears twitched and pointed at sharp intakes of breath or gasps in the room, showed that they were very real.

Poor Felix was incredibly confused. It was hard enough for the Australian boy to follow the conversation, and even harder to make sense of things as he saw your fluffy cat ears on top of your head.

"What the-" Jeongin's jaw dropped.

"Why are your ears moving like that..." Seungmin was astonished.

"I'm a cat hybrid. There was an experiment gone wrong a while back, masked as a 'cure', a vaccination, when really it was an experiment. So, umm, yeah, I'm sort of like a test subject.." you trailed off as Chan came to stand in front of you, raising his hand slightly.

"Can I touch your ears?" he questioned, which honestly wasn't what you were expecting. Instead, you thought it was time for him to go into his words of wisdom mode, but really even he couldn't avoid his own curiosity, as he waited for your response.

"Oh, yeah sure," you shrugged, a smile working it's way into your face as you felt a soothing scratch and pat to the head. It was so relaxing that you shut your eyes for a moment.

And when you opened your eyes...

"My turn! My turn!" Han was suddenly in front of you, Seungmin and Jeongin surprisingly waiting too.

"Wow, so cute!" Hyunjin was looking at you with the biggest heart eyes, and you could also lightly hear Chan explaining to Felix what had just transpired.

"Cute, haha," Changbin chuckled, stood next to you and observing your reactions.

"So you guys don't find it weird then?" you laugh as you ask, knowing that they were entranced.

"No! Never!" Seungmin shook his head.

"Me?" Felix came up behind Seungmin, half hugging his arm before asking permission to also pet your ears.

"Yes," you smiled reassuringly at the shy Felix.

The only one of the boys who hadn't interacted with you after you revealed your big secret was Minho, and perhaps that was because he simply couldn't comprehend that his fellow band member he had naturally grown protective over was also part cat. His favourite animal by a mile.

"I knew there was something feline about you," Minho hugged you tightly, the only one not to go straight for the ears.

"That's all the approval I needed."

Post revelation, you were able to feel even more relaxed around your members at the dorms, and wow, when they saw your tail, to be frank, they lost their shit. That was a story for another day though. You had more important things to think about them, such as the meeting that had been scheduled with the company before filming began. Understandably, in your opinion, they had found some medication, hybrid suppressants, that would hide your features. Some people would have been offended by the gesture but in reality, you were relieved. You just wanted to debut and you didn't want to take any attention away from the boys with your obvious differences in genetics. Although the first day of taking the pills felt rough, especially with your body having to withdraw physical features, you went through with it, initially explaining to the boys that it's what you wanted. Whether they believed you or not at the time, you weren't sure, until today...

"No way!" you gasped, clutching the blanket for dear life as you sat up from your comfy spot curled up on the sofa. Once again, you had chosen to use your vacation off from work as a chance to binge watch your favourite show, and finally, you had made it to the end.

"Don't roll credits, don't roll credits, don't- NO!" you cried out in disbelief. As if they had just killed off your favourite character. You sobbed, curling into yourself, ears flat against your head and tail curled up against you, like you were trying to protect yourself from the TV screen even though you had already turned it off and thrown the remote away from you in distress.

You hadn't realised that your hybrid features had popped out, not that it would be a problem as you were on break, but you must have forgotten to habitually take your tablets, the ones you bad taken the previous day finally wearing off. Even with the box being on the coffee table in front of you, the idea had left your mind.

It was long forgotten now.

It was a pitiful sight, the way you were trembling as you cried, but with your physical hybrid features also came mental ones, emotional ones, instincts that you couldn't help but follow. That emotional attachment that cats found with their people, happened to you and your favourite TV show. You felt hurt, betrayed, distraught.

"Rori?" Minho was the first to call out in concern, as the boys piled in from their outing at the beach. Yes, Rori, that was your stage name. It was a running joke between you all that Minho adopted Dori and her namesake was because of you. They weren't that dissimilar right?

"What's wrong? What's happening?" Felix called out in confusion, still taking off his sandy shoes by the front door. The boys had wanted you to come along with them, but you hated water, and would much rather laze around in the comfort of your own home.

"Aigoo, your tail is all fluffy," Jeongin patted your head, yet you continued to cry. The eight boys looked between each other in confusion until Jisung spotted the medication on the table and looked at Chan pointedly, hoping he took would connect the dots he had just found.

"Oh, Rori, we thought you didn't like taking the, it's ok. It'll be ok, we'll sort this," Chan rubbed your back gently.

"We can announce it to the fans," Hyunjin suggested, and the others nodded along.

"We'll have a word with the company," Changbin added, their plan already formulating before your very eyes.

"They'll still love you," Jisung didn't like seeing you cry.

"They won't care, you're still the same person," Seungmin spoke up, last to enter the room. He had soon caught onto the situation though, only after rinsing his feet from the sand that lingered. He couldn't barely the itchy feeling.

"What are you talking about?" you sniffled, lifting your head out from your arms and your ears lifted in curiosity.

"Aren't you sad because of, you know, having to take the tablets...?" Chan was confused, so much so that his hand had even stopped it's comforting motions on your back.

"No!!" you cried out, tail fluffing up even more, irritation flaring up ever so slightly as you wished you didn't have to explain yourself. It would much easier if these humans just knew what you wanted!

"Oh," Minho pursed his lips in thought.

"Then what's wrong?" Jeongin urged, eager to hear what was truly wrong.

"-died! It's not fair! They were my favourite and they were so kind and-" you whimpered tearfully, already having flashbacks of the final episode you and just watched.

"It's because of a show?!" Felix rose his eyebrows in surprise, leaning back to try and see your whole face.

"Really?" Seungmin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"It's not just a show!!!" you wailed louder, tail swishing now as you felt a mix of sadness and annoyance.

"Ok it's not just a show, we know that, chill, kitty," Jisung patted your head but Minho nudged him warningly, knowing you didn't like that nickname.

"Ji-" you huffed.

"But it's definitely not because of the suppressants, right?" Changbin cut you off, which was annoying at first, having being interrupted twice in a row, yet you were appreciative of the change in topic.

"No, no, I don't care about taking them. I'm fine with that," you took a deep breath and wiped your remaining tears away, "I just might need 2-3 business days to recover."

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tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @kpopmenace143 @haodore @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @his-angell @2minstan @skzoologist @lovingchan @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @lilmisssona @astraysimp @lixie-phoria @theo4eve @linoalwaysknows @royal-shinigami @jolly04 @turtledove824 @yangbbokari @thisrandomgoofy15 @lieslab @hannamoon143 @arumlilyeclipse

[raccoonscupoftea]

🎮A Gamers profession

Timeskip!Kenma Kozume X F!Y/n

Summary: Y/n and Kenma are a couple, also living together. While Kenma is streaming and struggling with a game, he soon admitted to need help from you, a professional game breaker.

Warnings: Nerd talk, SFW, possible grammar mistakes, cause english is not my native language.

| MASTERLIST | REQUESTS |

//----//----//----//

You love your job. It's fun, well paying and not so stressful. Kenma, your boyfriend, also likes your job, but sometimes he just wants you to stuff your face with a pillow when he's playing, especially when he's livestreaming.

You often get to know the next top game before everyone else. You get information on a game while it's still in the making and you have to play the game for endless hours before it's officiall release.

You're not designing the game or anything. No, you're here to break the game into pieces, testing limits, testing the code, testing AI. If it breaks, then the developers have more work to do. Or they simply just decide it is going to be a 'feature'. It's their choice. You just deliver the bugs to them.

So, then why does kenma want to shut you up sometimes?

Because of your job, you have developed a very good sense for game mechanics, attack patterns and the more advanced stuff on how a game is build. When Kenma encounteres a boss, he just knows you could beat it in a few minutes. He knows you could rush to an over the top overpowered boss and never get hit once, thou it would take longer to beat it.

It's when Kenma's visibly is frustrated, staring at his screen with an unhealthy posture, you then sometimes get up from your couch and take a look at what he's struggling with. As soon as you got into frame the viewers will start to spam the chat with messages about you.

Mostly just spamming your name but others will write absurd things like "mama's here to help" or "the professional is watching"

You just have to stand behind the chair and kenma starts to tell you to not say anything.

"Don't you dare tell me, I want to find it out myself" he complains and you just put up your hands "I didn't do anything, I'm just watching, but tell me if you need help"

So far he never needed help from you. He of course is an intelligent and very good gamer himself. Never have you doubted him.

___

You're currently on your own pc in a separate Office in your and Kenma's home. With a switch controller in your hands and feet up on a footrest, you happily enjoy playing some animal crossing on the bigger screen of your gaming setup.

Today's quiet cold so you're wearing a wearable blanked with a hoodie combined. It looks like a cat. On your table is a steaming hot tea, waiting to be cooled down a little. You were fishing all around the island in game to get the last fish of the museum collection, but the sporadic waves of tiredness are definitely not doing you a favour when it comes to pressing the right button at the right time. The game definitely knows how to get you so relaxed you could fall asleep right then and there in your gaming chair.

Another wave made you a little more tired than the usual waves. This time you had doze off for a few seconds before jolting back awake and continued your fishing spree. Work definitely was a bit to much with the winter holidays coming up and a lot of new games wanting to be released in early spring. Is also added up to your tiredness.

You glanced over to the time on your Pc and realised it's only 4pm, definitely to early to sleep now. You also know that Kenma was streaming for an hour now, since he always starts at 3pm.

Thou you don't learn from your mistake to play animal crossing while nearly dozing off and just continued, but rather than fishing you instead decided to continue to decorate the island.

It went well for the first hour. You made a plan and checked on the internet if there's the suitable furniture for it. The first decorations had been placed on their right spot, paths has been made but just a few minutes after the first hour, the tiredness has claimed you back.

While you were in the office relaxing every bone to a complete flat line, the person in the other office was nearly about to destroy a keyboard. The boss he was fighting was beating kenma every time to 0 HP. Kenma had stopped yesterday's stream in a near rage quit but today he had to beat it to get further in the game. He hasn't got past the boss and was getting more and more frustrated as well as confused. Sometimes he swears the boss just doesn't take damage and gets a massive attack bonus. Chat is convinced the boss wasn't beatable and was begging to kenma to bring out the game breaker, aka you.

Of course, he denied it at first but after an hour of trying and dying he finally gave up. Without a word he placed down his headphones, pushed his microphone back a little bit and walked out of the frame. His viewers were ecstatic and surprised that he'll need help from you.

As kenma was busting open the door to your office, the loud noise of the door made you jolt up from your chair. Your hair went places and the hoodie blanket went all the way up to your chin, telling kenma without a word that you were sleeping in your chair just now.

"I was definitely not sleeping" You stated in your defense with a sleep drunk voice, but Kenma did not believe you and smiled at how cuddly you looked. With a quick glance at the time you asked the streamer "Quit already? You're usually up till late at night"

Kenma placed his hands in the pocket of the black hoodie he's wearing and sighed, remembering why he's here in the first place "I think the game's bugged. I can't defeat the boss. I tried so many times" He slightly looked away, feeling a bit embarrassed about asking you.

At the word 'bugged' you stood up, placed the switch controller on the desk and walked over to him. You slipped your hands into his hoodie and took his hands in your own. "let's see what I can do"

The two of you went to his streaming room, but before you entered, the hood from your blanket hoodie went over your head to hide this atrocious mess of hair on your head. You quickly checked your appearance in the hallway mirror. As soon as the viewers got a glance at you and what you're wearing, they all typed in chat 'You're looking so cozy rn' 'where did you buy it?' 'looks so fluffy' 'I want to cuddle with you'

You waved at the camera to greed the viewers and kenma gestured you to sit down in his chair. You smiled at your boyfriend and placed your feet also on the chair, making you a cozy fluffy blanket ball.

He then quickly explained to you what he was doing and what was happening. Kenma then also pulled over another chair to sit down and watch you. You first tried your best max out attack and defence with his current equipment, but there wasn't even a slightest chance. You voiced out a small "Huh?" Before trying again.

The viewers could see on your face that something was up. You aren't a streamer and wasn't talking while playing the game and kenma knew to not disturb your concentration, but the viewers still seemed to enjoy watching you trying the best you could. It was the first time you were seriously playing a game with the intention to win and they were all very ecstatic as you tried to not get hit. One could tell how everyone was excited at this moment, the chat also was getting slower.

After half an hour, you had placed down the controller. The boss could hit the hero, because they weren't dodging anymore and the player dies in an instant. The question marks around your head were very visible. Something definitely is not right here. As soon as the game went to its pause menu, the viewers knew something serious it about to happen.

You grabbed the laptop from Kenma, booted it up, put in his password without a fail and went to the internet. The website from your work company appeared after a few clicks and at this moment Kenma realised what was happening.

He looked over to his camera and explained laughing "Guys, I apparently found a bug. Stuffs about to get serious now" The chat was then filled with suprised emojis. It didn't took 5 minutes and a donation came in.

Kenma glanced over to the donation site and read out loud "Thank you catlover51 for the..." He stopped a second as he saw the amount that was donated and was clearly surprised "Thank you for the 100$ and you had written down 'For Y/n, a little compensation gor having to work now' again thank you very much. You really didn't neet to donate so much"

As Kenma read the donation out loud you had began to smile behind the laptop sceen. Others then jumped onto the train as well and donated money from a single dollar to a little lager than 50$. Kenma was slightly overwhelmed my the sheer amount of donations that came in and couldn't stop thanking everyone, nearly shutting down the donation site so no one could waste more money on them. It was then you who calmed them down after finishing your research. You looked back to the camera and placed the laptop to the side "You don't need to pay me for this. It's my job and I love doing it. Also I get paid whenever I work, so I'm currently earning my money. But thank you for your concern" you smiled brightly at them before continuing to try out stuff in the game.

After some time nothing came out of the testing and you sighed. You glance over to your boyfriend, looking like a vet having to tell the owner some bad news. "You can't progress at this point, I'm sorry" His eyes widend "That's a joke right?" You just shook your head "Unfortunately not. You have found a very devastating bug, which stops you from killing the boss. As soon as an attack misses, the supposed damage gets stored and well... When the boss does hit you, then all of that stored damage gets released. That explains the bug with the one shot kill. This bug alone is manageable and already a known issue, but combined with the boss not taking any damage" you smiled at him with a sad face. "I'm sorry"

Kenma sighed and ruffled his hair "It's not your fault" he smiled and ruffled your hair as well. "Guess my save is busted then"

You took his hand in yours and looked him in the eyes. He squeezed your hand a little and looked back at you. There's a little spark in your eyes, telling him that there's something you could do "What are you up to?" He asked directly. Your eyes shift away, making you look innocent, scratching your cheek a little "I could force you out of the situation, by glitching you through a wall"

Usually kenma is against using glitches and exploits in his runs, but this is maybe the first occasion he'll consider it. He first looks at you with squinted eyes but then stood up "I'm going to the bathroom. Whatever you'll do, I'll don't know about it"

You're smile got bigger as he finished talking and went outside. He closed the door and after a little happy dance, you pressed onto respawn and forced the player to another part of the map. The viewers were watching your every step and were happy about you breaking a game infront of them.

As you were finished, you quickly saved the game and stood up, ready to leave.

"In my defence" you started talking into the camera a little bowed down to fit into the frame "I did not test this part of the game. Not my fault" You grabbed the open laptop and blew the viewers a goodbye kiss before you exited the streaming room.

On the way back to your own office, Kenma has finished his bathroom break. He grabbed your wrist before you could vanish into your room. He also grabbed the laptop and placed it on a sideboard. One hand of his wandered over to your waist, so he could pull you a little closer to him. "Thank you" he whisperd and gave you a little kiss on your cheek. "I'll make sure to finish today's stream a little earlier. Can't wait to cuddle you with this fluffy hoodie" he then again kissed your other cheek and headed back over to his room to see an alive character on a giant grassy field.

You on the other hand smiled and had to control your inner fangirl to not just scream and jump around. The viewers for sure could hear you if you were to loud.

You quickly grabbed Kenma's laptop and hid in your room, filling out a formula to get the new bug over to the Developers.

[victorbutnotreally]

Academic Validation - Lee Minho x Male Reader

A/N: i'm back!! heavily inspired by myself. to all the people struggling with their studies, you got this! your grades only define a part of you, a part of you that can be molded however you want.

warnings: thunderstorms, mental breakdown, mentions of dying, unrealistic expectations from parents, min's parents are horrible in this.

"You have so much potential, Minho! Where's that little boy who's always eager to learn, huh?? You got an A in maths instead of your usual A*. I can't believe this!!"

"Mom, let me-"

"No!! You're in university, for god's sake! Pull yourself together! Stop hanging out with your friends and you better study, young man-"

"I-"

"Or do you not want to achieve anything? Do you want to be stuck somewhere with part time jobs, barely making a living??"

An A is still a good grade, Mom! he wanted to say, but he didn't dare to. He wanted to scream and shout and defend himself, but he wasn't allowed to. The words were just fading echoes in his ears till the sound of the call ending snapped him back to reality.

His parents see his mistakes, but only that. It wasn't an easy exam, and only one person got an A*. But of course, his parents wouldn't understand that, because he used to get full marks for everything without even studying as a child. And even now, he's mostly relying on his memory and math skills. He doesn't know how to study. Why would you know how to study when you're "gifted"? God, he hated that term. He would beam with pride when he got called that till middle school. Things started going downhill in high school, but he picked it up somehow. Mostly to compete with Mn. And now, in one of the most prestigious universities in the world, he was doing well. Very well, actually. But his parents won't understand. Why would they, when their son is "gifted"?

Sobs wracked his body as he threw his phone onto the bed and slid down against the wall. He wished the wall had arms to hold him, since his parents never did. He wished his wall would come to life, talk to him, kiss his hair and wipe his tears away. He sat with his legs to his chest and his arms on his knees, but that wasn't comforting enough. He curled up into a fetal position on the ground as he sobbed. He didn't have friends. He was always alone growing up, and he was fine, since life wasn't so cruel back then. His comfort was being alone, but he wants to be held right now.

He pulls himself up somehow, going to the bathroom to wash his face. He had an image to maintain. The thunder seemed to rattle the windows and the lightning struck. On any other day, he would've admired thunderstorms, but the sounds and the light overwhelmed him at the moment. He opened the door to his dorm room and walked down the hallway. Mn. The only one who got an A* in the maths test. He wanted Mn. Sure, they wouldn't exactly be termed as 'friends', but he's the closest thing Minho has to one.

Mn heard the knock on his door and wondered who it was at this time of the night. It was 1:03. He went up to the door and and looked through the peephole. Minho? He opened the door, and before he could say anything, Minho threw himself into his arms.

"Min-"

The moment he felt those strong arms wrap around him, Minho lost control. He clung onto Mn like a lifeline, burying his face in the crook of his neck. His sobs echoed in the quiet room, his body shaking from the force of his emotions. And to Mn, the sound of his sobs seemed to pierce him deeper than the lightning. He buried his face into Mn's shirt, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. He's never cried like this before, but something about seeing his calm, collected expression makes the floodgates open. The last time he broke down like this was…well, he didn't remember.

"I-I'm sorry," he chokes out between hiccups, voice muffled against Mn's chest. He's too embarrassed to meet those piercing eyes, but at the same time, he craves his warmth and stability. "Just needed someone…"

He takes a deep breath, trying to regain some composure. When he finally looks up, his dark eyes are puffy and red, and filled with vulnerability rare of him. "Please don't think less of me, Mn."

Mn's expression softened, his hand went up from Minho's back to his face, wiping away his tears.

"Of course not…not for this. Come inside," he says, pulling Minho inside the room once he realized they were still in the doorway. The door clicks shut behind them, loud thunder accompanying the sharp sound.

"What happened, Minho?"

The soft gaze, the gentle tone of someone who's supposed to be his rival, opened the floodgates once more. Years worth of bottled up emotions came out at once as he broke down in his rival's arms. Mn could do nothing but rub his back and hold him close. Minho didn't need anything else. He just wanted to be held. Minho's arms squeezed him tighter as his sobs grew louder. He buried his face in his chest so deep as if he wanted to be lodged in his ribcage, right next to his heart.

"They- they think I'm so smart…I'm not…I'm not smart or anything.."

More sobs.

"I can't do this anymore, Mn, I can't…I'll die at this rate. I just wanna disappear and stop worrying about all this."

"Oh, Minho.." Mn felt a strange protectiveness over the boy nestled so comfortably in his arms. His heart felt warm knowing that Minho came to him out of all people, but at the same time, he felt sad, knowing that Minho didn't really have anyone else.

"What if I don't get a job? What if adulting is harder than I thought? What if…what if I don't graduate?"

The last question was followed by hysterical sobs. If it weren't for the thunderstorm, Mn was sure he would've woken up the whole floor with his cries.

"I-I c-can't do this anymore, Mnie…I can't..p-please.."

"Okay..okay..we'll take a break for a while, yeah?"

"C-Can't…have to..study..I have to-"

"Minho."

Minho looked up from Mn's chest, eyes teary and red.

"How long has it been since you slept?"

"I- I don't know, Mn.." He said Mn's name with such softness, such…vulnerability.

Mn reached to wipe away Minho's tears and reached out to grab some tissues for him.

"Here."

Minho shakily took the tissues, mumbling a small 'thank you' as he wiped his face. He slowly got up, his feet somehow being able to carry his weight now as he went to the bathroom and washed his face. He came out of the bathroom to see Mn making tea.

"Y-You don't have to," Minho said, his voice sore and shaky from all the crying.

"Sit down, Min. Talk to me, okay?"

He obediently sat down, quite unusual for him. But right now, he just wants to hand everything to someone else. And he didn't think he'd be so open with Mn.

"I just..I got an A instead of an A*. I wasn't disappointed with it because it was a super tough exam, but my mom called and said a lot of things. Like I'm wasting my potential. I didn't hear the rest, I was so tired. Don't…pity me. Please."

"I won't. I don't. And you're not wasting your potential, okay?," Mn started, handing Minho a cup of tea. "You're one of the best students here. And one slight drop in your grade doesn't make you stupid. Besides, A is such a good grade."

Minho sips his tea, the warmth of the teacup a comfort to his cold hands. He listened intently to Mn's words, as if memorising them. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up, a small smile finding its way to his lips.

"You're good enough. I'm proud of you."

"You're good enough." The words rang in Minho's head, louder than the thunderstorm outside. He felt safe. He felt like he could admire it again. He sets down the teacup and hugged him again, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder.

"Thank you."

taglist:

@forever-atiny

[astralnymphh]

patterned palmistry ⋆ | ellie williams headcanons

༺ ellie x witch!reader headcanons/scenarios ༻ ☽𖤐☾

✧˖ ° 🕯 bright blessings!

an: being the witchy little gremlin i am i just had to throw some hcs together for myself but ofc i'd share them here🙄ive been practicing witchcraft since i was 15 so it felt fitting to incorporate it whenever i brace my delusions at the bootycrack of midnight that r all abt ellie 💀 regardless this def isnt gonna be my only witchy hcs post i just didnt wanna spoil all my ideas right away <3 tags: MDNI, slight nsfw (no detailed smut), boob jokes, witchcraft (obv), tarot, palm reading, mostly convos, flirting, not mentioned in the writing but u 2 r alrdy dating, playful bickering, more natural casual writing with some bigger words, no specific religion tied to the practice, generally a fluff piece, lowk cute moments. °________________________⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆__________________________°

I. ☆ ellie definitely had a peak in curiosity the first time you mentioned you immerse yourself in the world of the craft, her ears perked figuratively and were tuned in to learn what that entails. she may not forfeit a nip of skepticism right away but she's more than happy to engross herself in the idea of it. you'd stay up till first light rambling on about the 'rituals', 'divination', the history tied to it and why you practice it. you'd be lying in bed adjacent to her, heavenward to the ceiling, but interwoven in a warm and loving cuddle with her palm residing on your lap whilst you chatted.

"mmmmh-" ellie's hum churns 'round your bedroom, "so that's why you collect rocks."

"crystals."

"same thing," she drones an inwardly giggle, "which crystal will give me superpowers?" a witty remark springs from her tongue.

"babe.." you pout, acting offended yet none is taken.

"didn't mean it like that, y'know I believe you, it's all just new to me." ellie tapes an assuring kiss to your temple, "tell me about your favorite crystals, hmm?" 

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

II. ☆ now because of this, anytime you're out on patrol and delight the opportunity of scavenging, she always keeps in mind to find you flowers, rocks, unused candles and other oddities of nature.

"hey babe! I found a black candle for'ya." ellie bolstered a long glass cylinder filled with an opaque charcoal wax, wick still intact, "and- ..some wild lavender." her other arm swings from behind her back, twines of dusty purple lavender upheld in a pinch.

"fuck yeah, needed this stuff.." you graciously tweak the lavender from her, whiffing up its poignant scent.

"always on the lookout.." her voice resembles her proud countenance outwards, essentially, a dorky smirk.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

III. ☆ obviously, the second you mentioned the art of tarot to her, she begged for a reading. whenever a card flew from your shuffling motions, she'd patiently wait for you to place it before her and then she'd swipe it up and admire the art piece detailing the cardstock.

"whew! look at the boobs on this one!" 

"oh- my god, of course you'd point that out." you snatch the card from her, shamelessly ogling the nude depiction that had her attention.

"you're looking at them too!"

"cuz' you said something 'bout it!" you flick the card towards her face, noting, "those are some nice boobs though." 

"why thank you~" 

"wasn't talking about you, idiot!" 

"eh, but.. urs' are the best." her hoarse tone binds a nonchalant flirtiness in its rumble.

"oh really? should we compare the.. four?"

that really stole her attention.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

IV. ☆ the first time you entertained her with a palm reading, it had her all dappy and touched to the essence at the paltry contact you made with her hand. your fingerprints drafting her calloused palms with such a gentle focus on every river lining her hand. she just wanted to smother you with kisses.

"and… this is your heart line." your finger hovers the crevice of her palm-pads stretching from index to pinkie, "ah.. it's a broken one.."

"is that.. bad?" her juniper eyes study your expression meticulously.

"it just means u're closed off, stubborn, have some emotional trauma.. stuff like that." you mindlessly fiddle with her fingers, "lines can change though, so.."

she nods, taking in the insight. she licks her slightly chapped lips clean, "am I stubborn?" her voice rises partially an octave, bending playfulness in her question.

"mm.. no."

"why'd you hesitate?"

"well- the only times ur' stubborn is refusing to let go whenever you hug me- ur' a life-size sloth!" 

"I like huggin' you though." a puppy pout frowns on her lips, "you're like a pillow!"

and oh, how your heart capers a beat, "is that all I am, williams?"

her swift speech conjuncts, "whaddid' I say about that name?!"

"I don't know, I think you like it." 

"nuh-uh I don't!"

you pepper a haste kiss to her knuckles still forcepped in your clasp, totally deterring the crime you've just committed when a half impish half taken aback smile creaks her lips.

"c'mere." vaults from her tongue before she lunges her body forward and tackles you in a saucy position riddled with love bites. guess you'll be reading her palms in a different way tonight.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ V. ☆ an bonus hc, you'd totally mention out of the void about her tattoo n the mystic meanings surrounding moths, like, its for sure one of the topics you'll ramble about one night cause you just feel so wise for knowing. "y'know, moths play a pretty large role in the metaphysical world." "really? i mean, i knew they had some kind of.. 'symbolism' to them-" ellie's hand rolls over the knoll of her forearm, reading the bumps glamoured in that beautiful inking. "yeah, like- luna moths represent transformation, renewal.. oh! and death-head moths are an omen of death.. an- and black witch moths mean either good luck, or bad-" ellie is amused at your prattle shown by her raspy giggles, legitimately having to conceal her scrunched face. "what?" "nothin' you- you're just so cute." "stop.." the embarrassment catches up to you, now having to hide your face to the shadows beneath your hands. her finger cranes out to hook and uncover your nerdy grin, assuring, "never stop tellin' me bout this stuff, ok babe?" a wide delighted beam syncs on her cheeks. goddess above, her dimples and nasal lines are to die for. ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

𖤐

in general; she's a curious dork n will ask you oh so many questions, i mean, she loves space and a futuristic sci-fi comic for crying out loud, she's alrdy so imaginative so ofc she'd be open to a realistic amount. she'd also be so respectful and helpful n defend ur practice with so much love. maybe she'd pick up some little traditions and customs like folding letters a specific amount of times, drawing little pentacles, mixing liquid in specific directions, just the simple things that grow on her.

[archibaldtuttle]

Alien : Romulus - a 7/10 reason to stop making Alien films

This review will be spoiler-free

When I came out of the theater yesterday, after having gone through a viewing of Alien Romulus, I caught myself agreeing with my friends - this was pretty good!

And I am beyond poisoned about the Alien franchise since Ridley Scott got his grubby paws all over it with Prometheus. The only reason I made the effort to move my ass to the theater to see this one was because he wasn't directing (and also I didn't have to pay for it) (thanks sib).

I knew Alvarez from two of his previous films, the 2013 remake of Evil Dead and Don't Breathe. I am pretty mixed on both - they demonstrate solid filmmaking abilities and (in the case of Evil Dead), a deep respect for franchises he's adding to. However they are also a little heavy on the jumpscares for my taste, and in the case of Don't Breathe I just can't praise the film without having to mention that the third act twist is gross in an entirely unnecessary, shock-value way, that does nothing for the film thematically.

That did give me some hope for Romulus however, because that third act twist told me Alvarez likes talking about rape and impregnation. And contrary to Don't Breathe... that's right at home in Alien.

So what about the film then? It's good. Solid premise, I like that we're finally, finally, seven films in, seeing the planet-side society that births all those rundown spaceships. Good pair of main characters with on one side a demonstrably resourceful Rain and on the other a very nuanced look at the franchise's synthetics with Andy. The others are more forgettable but I can't blame that too much on the film - they're well characterized in a few short scenes and that's all I can expect really. The build-up is solid, the various ticking clocks and sources of tensions well established.

What I find particularly notable is the really good setpieces and the use of facehuggers in a way I've wanted to see for a long time. Very good physical effects supplemented by good to ok-ish CGI. The writing is very heavy-handed - I wish more people looked at what O'Bannon did with exposition before they write their own Alien scripts. I do give credit to Alvarez and his co-writer Sayagues for the cool concepts explored and the way they thread Andy's character exploration through them.

The editing is mostly blameless - I wouldn't call it great or even that good, especially with how hectic it gets during some more action-ey scenes, but you can tell Roberts isn't specialized or even used to horror films. I guess he took from his experience on Pressure which would explain a lot... The score is really good, one of the highlights of the film in my opinion - I've liked almost all I've heard from Wallfisch so I wasn't surprised to find out he did this one.

So why did I give this review a very baitey title. It became clear as I was watching the fourth, then the inevitable fifth act unfold, that we were, collectively, scraping the barrel on what can be done with Alien. Prometheus and Covenant, beyond the fact that they were garbage movies, were already trying desperately to find new things to do with the concept. Romulus succeeded, for the most part, in finding new ways to twist it into something interesting, something we hadn't seen before (or at least not entirely). And I'm pretty sure that's it.

I don't want more directors to spend months racking their brains to try and find three or more scene setups that haven't already been done in seven main films, two AVP films and countless video games, in order to string them together into a coherent 2 and a half hour flick. I don't think it's impossible, Alvarez clearly demonstrated that he could do it and I'm pretty sure other people could. But why waste so much time, talent and energy on a series that objectively does not need expanding upon?

I know why, it's because the current studio system is allergic to anything that doesn't have brand recognition. But I think it's sad. And I think it would be a lot more gracious to put an end to a franchise after a pretty good film that did all it could to honor its predecessors rather than try to keep squeezing more out of it until it turns into the horror version of Star Wars.

[jenny-in-a-jar]

🩷🩵🤍 5 Days Until my Surgery 🤍🩵🩷

(Picture taken September 1, 2022)

I'm very very excited for my surgery (it's my second gender affirming surgery but this one is more significant to me since it'll be top and bottom surgery) and I'm obviously counting the days until it and I thought some people might be interested in my trans journey 🏳️���⚧️ So see part 6 below the cut.

Part 1 here

Me and my partner got back together and got a place together and we still live in this apartment together 🥰 I also worked at worked at a local amusement park over the summer that had some fun but mostly was horrible due to angry customers that kept misgendering me and kids making fun of me 🙃 But also I'll say I had one of my most euphoric moment when this little girl pointed to her winged eyeliner and said "you're just like me!" Bc I also had winged eyeliner at the time 🥰

(Picture taken June 6th, 2022)

Also, if the last Era was the peak of my egirl era on twitter than this was the fall of my egirl era 📉

I remember reaching 10k followers and thinking "ok I have enough of a following to try to make money off this." It's what a lot of egirls on there did and as I stated above, I hated my job. I thought briefly about streaming and YouTube but I don't really have the personality for streaming and was too self-conscious of my voice to do YouTube. And there were a lot of sex workers on twitter that I knew, followed, and admired. And there was quite the market for trans sexual content. Also I wanted to basically be paid to look pretty all day 🤷‍♀️ So, I made a OnlyFans account and started promoting it.

(Picture taken May 9th, 2022)

And I quickly got shadow banned for it 😂 And frankly, I wasn't really meant for sex work. I'm not really a sexual person. I do enjoy sexual acts but doing them for money killed my drive for it. I made a few hundred dollars but I didn't make enough content for it to keep it up.

Also, the shadow banned revealed how unhealthy my relationship with Twitter was. My self worth would be highly dependent on how well my posts did that day (I was still posting pictures daily). And I was hypercritical of my picture quality and my physical features. And developed a bad habit of comparing myself to girls I considered prettier than me. And with the constant misgendering from work, I was at a big low 🥲

(Picture taken September 17th, 2022)

I remember this was when there was first talk about Elon buying Twitter and I was looking for an alternative and well... ended up here.

(Picture taken June 2nd, 2022)

I remember the idea between this pic was clothes and accessories that weren't explicitly queer but gave queer vibes.

Also talking about queerness, I also participated in a Drag Show! I played a mushroom fairy!

(Picture taken August 13th, 2022)

It was organized by this local queer nonprofit that did a lot in the community and was already a big part of my life but would become a bigger part of my life.

Also this was when I was done with the curly girl method. And I like how my hair looks like this and it's easier 🤷‍♀️

(Picture taken September 4th, 2022)

Also love how often I get used out of this mushroom beret 😁🍄😁 (which is why I have 2 pics with it on this post lol)

Also an update on my love life at this time. I at one point had 4 partners very briefly and was part of a polycule over over 22 people. I remember one of my metamours made a chart showing all the relationships and it was complicated 😅 Also it was mostly online. Like 2 of my partners were long distance relationships.

(Picture taken Oct 2nd, 2022)

Around my 23rd birthday, I decided to do what was best for my mental health and quit twitter. But I had two last pictures because I got them from some followers who bought me things from my Amazon wishlist I made for my birthday.

(Picture taken October 29, 2022)

This one would be useful for the next era. And you can see a small part of my large collection of plushies (which I have a project in mind for 👀)

(Picture taken on November 8th, 2022)

And this was the last picture I posted on Twitter before quitting at 36k followers. I had already stopped posting on it for awhile so you can imagine my surprise when I got a big pink teddy bear 😱 And for all the work I put into that account, I consider this a pretty good prize 🧸💕

I consider Tumblr my last attempt with having a healthy relationship with social media. If this account goes away, I'll probably be done with Social Media 🤷‍♀️ I think I'm getting better at breaking those bad habits I developed on Twitter while still trying to enjoy the art of dressing up and taking selfies. But, I don't know if I'll ever have the drive for it like I did during my twitter days.

With my summer job ending and twitter as a way to make a living out of the window you may be concerned with how I recovered but I got really lucky and I'll go into detail on that tomorrow 😁

[mostrovskaa]

Just out of curiosity, you make the mockups for your faux sticker set by yourself from scratch? or maybe mofidy existing ones?? I Think they look very good and add so much to the comms and you even theme them to suit the characters instead of using the same one over and over, like wow that takes some effort!! Your art is amazin! Do you reccomend some tutorials/tips and tricks/sites for mockups like these?

Hi! Thank you so much, I am so glad you like these! To do these I most often use stock images and public domain images alongside textures and scans of objects (notes, paper, scribbles, book spreads etc.) I made myself and mofidy them into digital collages. I also sometimes use preexisting mock-ups for graphic designers and just edit the hell out of them to make them suit my patchy aesthetic, but I prefer to just use the previous method of putting images together, because it gives me more of a field to work with. It does take a bit of effort, yes, that's why I don't make them for every commission post but I like to create them anyway as much as I can, to visualize a digital product in a semi-realistic way :-)

If I want to create a specific effect, I often just search up some photoshop tutorials or just experiment with filters untill i find something exciting or nice graphically. There are a lot of places that offer free textures to use, for example sites with materials for 3d modelling that offer these things - which I love to use in my work. But they are super easy to create on your own as well traditionally. I often take pictures of scraps, dirt and the like to later put into these types of images. You can also find that many museums and art institutions offer public domain images (of artwork, documents and the like) from their collections!

All in all, the process of making these comes from my need to explore how all the effects, filters etc. from digital programs can be used to achieve interesting visuals. I am by no means any authority on the topic though, I mostly just explore and if I like something - explore it more.

Sorry for the long anwser, but i think this is something other people would also enjoy to know!

Thank you again!

[the-crystal-femmes]

Boundaries ► Filter Tag Lists ► BYI / DNI ► Pronouns.CC ► Alter Intros

Hello hello! Welcome to our blog! We're the Bat King Collective. (Our URL was previously mx-werebat!)

Disclaimer: our DNI section is for those who intend on following us, not for likes/reblogs/etc.

We are a median collective, more info can be found on our pronouns.cc!

Please shoot us an ask if any important information is unavailable to you due to inaccessiblity! We would also prefer being told how to make it more accessible. Yellow Pearl is more than happy to help make things more accessible upon request if spoons allow for it :>

Our discord is located at the end of our BYI page. Please look at that if you're wondering about it!

Condensed intro for anyone who doesn't want to read all of our alter intros:

Yellow Pearl (it/her) (<- I also respond to Blue Pearl, Volley, and Spinel!)

Ula / Garnet (she/him)

Pearl (she/zem) (link leads to how to use Pearl's neos!)

Frankie (she/they)

Peridot (she/her)

Ames / Ame (she/her)

Yellow Diamond / YD (she/her)

Our "dark thoughts" side blog (link)

Yellow Pearl's pearl fictotype sideblog (link)

More Userboxes (link)

Moodboards by the wonderful @mewos-laptop :33 and put together by us

Tag masterlist (mutuals, please filter these out if needed!)

#beach city crew - mutuals! (Typically asks)

#communication hub - askbox!

#gem sorrows - vent posts

#rb - reblogs

#save - posts we save because we have memory issues

#laura's info tag - informational posts we've made! (Mostly me, Laura, though)

#garnet tag - posts about Garnet / Ula!

#pearl tag - usually reblogs and edits relating to our Pearl fictive!

#peridot tag - things regarding our Peridot fictive :>

#amethyst tag - things regarding our Amethyst fictive!

#fursona tag - our fursonas!

#not [character] fictionfolk safe - usually negative posts towards other characters that are tagged for those to filter!

Credits for things used on this blog

// pt: credits for things used on this blog //

Intro banner: Pearl, Garnet (Ula), Peridot, Amethyst and Lapis* by YP! (*Lapis isn't a headmate but she's still in the image)

Dividers used on this blog are by @/anitalenia, @/saradika, and @/cafekitsune

Userboxes are by myself and inspired by @/ghosting-plural-userboxes.

Layout inspired by @/miiidastouch

(Also short disclaimer, if our prosecutor does not like you we will not hesitate to let him soft block)

[dead-lights]

trai-lore!

because ya know. trailers. with lore.

i'll see myself out

but! before i go - I went and compiled all of the Vampires trailers I could find! I wasn't familiar with all of the shorts and I'm not 100% sure I found them all. There are a lot of contradictions, but aside from the gameplay trailer they can mostly be stitched together.

Also, I recognize I'm trying to wring blood from a stone, reading into things that EA never intended, but ya know. That's the point of exploring lore!

this is mostly validated by werewolves - Lily's dialogue confirms that Caleb was turned by Miss Hell, and the 7 years unlucky mirror confirms that Vlad ambushed her while she was brushing her teeth.

It looks like the bar Miss Hell attacks Caleb in is supposed to be in Forgotten Hollow. There are plenty of reasons he could've been there, but to me that implies that Lilith turned first, and he was there because that's where she hangs out now.

It looks like you're supposed to be able to see the normie parts of Forgotten Hollow from that cliff with the bench, rather than just more of the mountain. There's definitely supposed to be more than just those 5 lots.

I'm not sure if the person behind Miss Hell in the bar is anyone specific? they feel slightly familiar but I might be thinking of Leila Illes from island living, which came out afterwards.

It's unclear how Caleb ended up in the bathroom or whether he asked to turn - the animation is the same either way. In game, I've had a lot of success with both bat-form bathroom ambushes and the good ol' "ask for woohoo and then cancel the order as soon as you're alone together" maneuver so either is plausible. To me, it looks like she's reenacting her transformation, with her as Vlad, so she would've wanted unwilling prey. I've generally thought that Caleb followed her into the bathroom thinking he was going to get laid, but with that in mind it does make sense that she would've just ambushed him when he got up to pee (poor humans and their bladders can't handle their nectar). @charsimsalot has a lot of interesting things to say about how being forcibly turned would have affected Miss Hell in this excellent post about the apartment they built for the rebellious vampires!

That bathroom door is on backwards. I checked - that door only has a sign on one side. Maybe they really wanted to hammer home the point that this is a bathroom? the sink and toilet do a pretty good job of that...

Caleb is not a daywalker in this trailer - since this seems to show him in his earlier days, that 100% checks out. It takes 15 skill points to become a daywalker, which... yikes.

note: I know the sims is very gay these days but do keep in mind that vampires was released January 2017. Gay marriage wasn't fully legalized in the US until June 2015. It was a big deal that Caleb suave kissed a guy in the trailer!

fun fact: the song used for this, deadly flo, seems to be either very cheap or free to license. It is used in a few episodes of the Baking Championship franchise. Y'all, that franchise got me back into baking and directly inspired GOBC. I lost my absolute shit when I heard it playing! There are also parts of Holiday Baking Championship that sound suspiciously like the sims 2 theme... I kinda wonder if there's a simmer in their sound department.

Not really that interesting - earlier versions of their outfits/vlad's dark form. Lilith cannot actually turn into a bat in-game.

vlad bloodvein can use "deprive needs" (must be a master vampire at minimum)

brandy can turn into a bat (should be a minor vampire at minimum)

based on the view outside Brandy's bedroom window, it looks like the virtuous vampires might live in an apartment in San Myshuno?

vlad uses supernatural speed to collect figurines

Not very interesting - just Brandy and Elle eating.

↓↓↓ WARNING - jumpscare below ↓↓↓

lmao what

this one doesn't even seem real, but as far as I can tell it was in fact released as a teaser for the full trailer.

This is the official trailer - it lines up reasonably well with other lore. Also the song is so fun.

Most notably: this trailer shows that Caleb is the one who turned Inna. No context is given. Other promotional material & the in-game paintings show that she was a thrall, potentially for hundreds of years before Caleb turned her.

The exterior of the house where Caleb turns Inna looks exactly like Wolfsbane Manor. However, Inna's bedroom doesn't match any room in the manor. It looks like there is a nearly identical house where Widowshild Townhouse currently is, so either Inna was in that house, or Wolfsbane Manor has since been remodeled. It would be kinda interesting if Caleb and Lilith decided to buy Inna's old house when they moved...

When Caleb turns into a bat, he's in the graveyard to the left of Vlad's house. Maybe he and Lilith lived with Vlad for a time? It kinda looks like Vlad had a lot of vampires filtering in and out of his place.

Elle real horny. I wonder what happened to that guy - he isn't a gallery vampire but he shows up in a lot of the paintings. As far as I'm aware Elle doesn't show up in any paintings.

This trailer is an absolute mess. It contradicts enough existing lore that it shouldn't be taken as any sort of canon, but it's a decent source of inspiration to fill in the gaps, and I pulled heavily from it when I was choosing powers for the gallery vampires.

Elle uses her mist form (I checked the animations) - she must be a grand master. She can use Command.

Markus Crow has supernatural speed - must be master+

Lilith is using a computer at the beginning of this, which feels weird because this is supposed to be at least 50 years ago. That said, technology doesn't advance in the sims, so, sure.

This makes it look like Vlad just broke into her house and turned her like he did with Miss Hell, but to me Lily makes it sound like Lilith was a more active participant: "I remember when my cousin, Lilith, first told me she'd met a fascinating man named Vlad. After that, she started spending a lot of time "training" with him. I thought she meant they were workout buddies. It wasn't until later that I found out she'd been lured to the dark arts."

Lilith's bed is a reward from the painter career - not sure if the implication is that she earned it herself?

I can't really see outside Lilith's windows, but it does kinda look like Forgotten Hollow? Which doesn't make a lot of sense to me - why would she and Caleb have to move to Forgotten Hollow if they already lived there? That said, that isn't Lilith. And that isn't Caleb. This was from when their names were Gina and Raylan.

Note that "Raylan" doesn't have the good vampire aspiration, and his traits are completely different. The others aren't quite the same as the gallery sims, but at least they still have the same names.

Looking out the window, it looks like the Virtuous Vampires are in Forgotten Hollow with everyone else. In one of the shorts, it looks like they live in a big city. I'm not sure which I like better!

Lilith is used as the example for supernatural strength. While she doesn't actually have that in-game, this is part of why I like to make her fitness 10 brute with vampiric might.

Elle continues to be real horny. Who is that guy? I like the implication that they had to go get it on as bats because Vlad was taking a nap and they couldn't fuck in his coffin :(

Bonus! While this isn't a trailer, exactly, it's a promotional blog post from Vlad's point of view and it is the best. Every last part of this makes me happy, from Caleb and Lilith ganging up on Vlad to Vlad referring to sparring matches as "epic duels" (or, in this particular case, what seems like a pretty good training sesh for Caleb).

Nothing about Lilith makes it seem like she doesn't feed on people except a) her household description and b) this post. That said, those two things about as primary as canon can get.

Vlad claims to own 100 gray coats

Vlad only fought Caleb. There could be so many reasons for that - was Caleb the one who made the challenge? Does Vlad not want to fight his offspring?

Vlad claims that the Encyclopedia Vampirica is mostly based on him. Make of that what you will.

Second bonus: Did you know that Vlad has a normie cousin??? There was a bit of promotional content for seasons involving the Climate family. This is that time they invited Vlad over for Harvestfest.

Please let me know if I missed anything! There's a lot of material out there, much of it no longer available on EA's site, so it's definitely possible there are things I didn't find.

[unicornpopcorn14]

1, 8, or 32 for skk (from the hug prompts) 🥹👉🏻👈🏻

bestie you can’t do this to me i will request all of them

THEY'RE ALL SUCH GOOD PROMPTS I AGREEEE

Hug prompts

Decided to go for 1- "Are you cold? You look like you're freezing."

Additionally, for @dazaibirthdayweek2024 Day 3: Good Intentions + Masks

Words: 3.3k. Hope you like it, Essie!! :D

Rings a Bell

You’d think being stuck with your former partner/enemy in a confined space is the worst thing that can happen to a person…

But no, it can get worse, when said confined space happens to be a fucking freezer room.

Yeah, Chuuya has no idea what led them to this. Well, he does, but thinking about it too hard might cause his fifth aneurism today, and, less importantly, dissipate his already fickle energy.

A snicker resounds from beside him, “Chuuya’s growling like a dog again!”

“Shut the fuck up before I hang you from that meat hook myself…” He tries to give his usual bite, but it falls short as his stomach lurches again, feeling awful in all sorts of places.

Great news: he can’t see shit. Mostly blurry shapes and wavering colors, but never past that. It doesn’t help that he has the fattest migraine of the century, accompanied by an urge to vomit he honestly doesn’t know how he managed to fight against this long. Arahabaki, the damn scoundrel, decides to stay standstill and let him handle this one on his own. Fucking fantastic.

He had been told what poison he’s been injected with, but he can’t for the life of him remember the name right now.

And who’s to blame for all of this? You guessed it.

“Chuuya!!” Dazai claps with a higher-than-normal-pitch, which successfully sends stronger-than-usual-ringing to his ears, “How did you know the new method I was planning to try out?! And you’re offering to help me?! My, you should get poisoned more often!”

“You’re lucky I currently am, piece of shit…” God, he wanted to sound harsher than that– perhaps come up with a more creative thing to retort with, but that all gets swept away by low groans and helpless eye rolls…

Chuuya doesn’t know why he even bothers with looking out for that bastard when all he does is become a pain in the ass afterwards. Every time he tells himself he would wholly ignore his former partner the next joint mission, something like this happens which throws all of his vows to the curb:

Dazai was probably distracted, probably not, but Chuuya grabbed him aside anyways, rendering him without an ability for just a second.

And right then a needle buried in his neck.

They got their asses handed to them immediately afterwards, because of course, and the fuckers decided to add onto their frozen meat collection today of all days– thus, their predicament.

Which consists of opposite organization members seated in a freezer room against an icy wall, the mafia member certainly looking more limp and uncoordinated than the other. Chuuya doesn’t know how Dazai’s seated, but he’s 90% sure he isn’t staying still for the life of him, so guessing that would be impossible.

“Think Koyou-san will send a search party after you?” The question comes out as slyly as you’d think a Dazai-question would come out.

“This fast? No… She knows I can handle myself…” Dazai should already know this, as nothing has changed much in the last four years. Chuuya groans out, breathing coming in difficult, “I’d have to be gone for an entire week before she gets worried.”

“Hm, same with the Agency. But not that long. Just a day at most…” He hears shifting from beside him once again, overly wary of his surroundings since his sight is on hold, “So we’re stuck here until the poison symptoms wear off. Alone. Together. Great.” Dazai concludes like it wasn’t fucking obvious.

“At least you have the blessing of seeing in front of you.” Chuuya closes his eyes to stop his spinning vision, as perhaps that can help keep the migraine at bay, “Do you realize… how nerve-racking it is to stay this close to you while blind?! You might try anything…!”

“That’s right!” Dazai chirps, his enthusiasm successfully making Chuuya’s nerves prickle, “Chuuya better use his ultra-deduction-instincts if he wishes to stand a chance!”

He grimaces while thumping his head back, wanting to re-demand the other to shut up for how splitting his voice rings in his skull, but Dazai would probably take that as an opportunity to scream, so he resorts to: “God, I hate you…”

From (unfortunate) experience, and seeing how high on the awful-feeling scale this falls, Arahabaki will stay asleep for twenty more minutes -adding to the fifteen he already suffered through-, until he finally feels the need to fucking do something and starts kicking his freaky immune system to life.

His breath comes out as condensed clouds, each intake of breath colder than the last. The shitty smell of raw meat doesn’t help with the nausea, and he has half a mind to sleep all of this off, but leaving the suicidal freak alone with metal hooks all around is probably a wildly stupid idea. He’s still weighing his options-

“I’m booooored!!” Dazai suddenly whines, high pitched and grating. Chuuya jolts, opening his eyes in order to send the other a scowl out of habit.

Only various shades of brown meet his vision, swimming before him. The migraine remerges tenfold,  “Wh-”

“Chuuya, entertain me!” Dazai leans onto him, shoulder to shoulder, so roughly that the clench of his stomach tightens. Chuuya barely has the energy to push the bastard back, said bastard surely aware of that, “Be my jester! Now, now!”

“How the fuck am I supposed to do that? Hey-”

Just as Dazai straightens on his own, Chuuya feels his fedora getting snatched, followed by low chuckles and murmurs of “Disgusting hat, I’mma burn you when we’re out of here…”

If Chuuya were to sound crazy, he’d have told you that Dazai is purposely being extra obnoxious right now– ridiculously so, but four years of separation might have granted him the blessing of forgetting how annoying Dazai could truly get, thus doesn’t humor that thought…

“You have two seconds before I start calling for grantors of dark disgrace and level this whole room over your head.” He warns, and doubts this is a good idea at all (Forcing Arahabaki awake is never a good idea). But he’s seriously getting tipped over the edge and the drug rushing in his veins isn’t helping in the slightest, “Give it, now.”

Dazai stays silent for a few seconds. A few seconds too long. Catching a glimpse of his face threatens to empty out the contents in his stomach, so Chuuya just decides to close his eyes again and relish this brief moment of piece, brushing the flicker of confusion aside.

Then the grating is back, “Fiiiine…”

It’s weird how Dazai takes his already outstretched hand and places the fedora on top of it, even lingering the hold on his gloved fingers for a second before letting go. Weird, but not concerning.

“Smart choice.”  He plants his belonging back on his head, sighing lowly. The option of sleeping sounds like a dream right now– would save him the trouble of handling the two constant problems in his life at once. But nothing ever feels as good as it sounds in Chuuya’s case– sometimes his comfort comes with a heavy price, even.

Suffering through this it is, then.

“Ne, you really still can’t see?” Dazai leans onto him again– not as roughly, but certainly making Chuuya lose his balance all the same, “What about the headache? Is it getting any better? Is it? I’m bored- can you see yet? Can y-”

“No I fucking can’t, that’s why we’re still here!” Chuuya exclaims, successfully shoving him off, unable to handle Dazai’s toddler whining a second longer, “You think I wouldn’t have kicked the door down the second I regained my ability?!”

“Eh, you’re right. The air smells so bad when a dog is sharing it with me.” Dazai taunts, and must be leaning back onto the wall now, legs overly outstretched before him (probably rocking his heels back and forth) because God forbid he ever sit normally, “Too bad the door is too sturdy to budge with my kicks.”

“Cuz you’re a wuss.”

“Cuz it’s sturdy.” The other stresses, then it’s silent for a few minutes. The moment the headache begins to dissipate into a buzzing sting, rather than pounding ache, Dazai decides he should resume the torture session,

“Chuuya should cut his hair.”

That’s… so random. Even by Dazai standards. “What the he- Are you touching it?!”

Fingers tug on the longer end of his hair, brushing it, “Need scissors.”

Chuuya wishes he could recoil back in disgust, he really does, “Keep your grubby fingers to yourself, piece of shit! You know how much product I use?!” He tries to smack the hand away, never lands on it, “They’re worth your damn hands.”

Dazai blows a raspberry, and the fingers meekly abort, “My bad for trying to make a slug look a hundred times better.”

“This is neither the time nor place for it, freak.”

“Oh, so you agree to cutting it later? Consent granted!”

Chuuya springs up from the wall, “THAT’T NOT WHAT I-” At the violent lurch he receives in his abdomen, he gags mid-sentence, but thankfully doesn’t fully throw up. Or unthankfully. He isn’t sure what’s better for him at the moment. He tries to breathe through the acid in his throat, “Fuck…”

He hears shifting from beside him, peeking to deduce Dazai hugging his knees now– rocking back and forth? He closes his eyes again, wishing time wasn’t a slow bitch at the moment. One arm presses to his abdomen, right where it’s angry and upset, the other stays numb on the floor beside him. Several clouds form in front of his lips, with him somehow sweating midst the freezing room, the water cooling on his burning skin terrifyingly fast. Perhaps a minute more and they’d turn solid.

“Can your trusty dusty chaos God wake up any faster?” Oh, right. Dazai isn’t dead yet, so peace for him isn’t an option, “Does turning him off and on again works?”

Chuuya rigids once something that feels like ice pokes his cheek,

“Fucking hell, when did you find an ice cube?” He uncoordinatedly smacks the thing away, which turns out to be a hand. Huh. “You already know the answer to that, bastard. Why are you even trying?”

“Worth it…” He giggles, something breathy about it, off. Chuuya pauses, sharpening his hearing instantly, because anything off regarding Dazai is always a bad sign, and his sense about this never lies. Call it a sixth sense, if you will. “Besides, pestering Chuuya when he’s weak is fun! You think I won’t take my chances? You really don’t know me at all!”

At that his concentrated frown dissipates, immediately replaced by one of assessment.

“Wait a second…” He keeps his head hanged and eyes closed, but his tone rumbles all the same, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Whatever you mean, sluggy poo?”

Chuuya doesn’t fall for the bait, sharpening his hearing even more, “I thought you were being annoying just for the sake of it, but now you’re outright telling me you’re being annoying?” He lifts his head to look at the direction of the other, sending a glare with closed eyes, “You’re trying to hide something. Out with it.”

“Pfff, paranoid much, aren’t we?”

And just like that, Chuuya catches it.

The shivers in the other’s breathing, that automatically translate to shudders in his speech, are so subdued, desperately trying to stay hidden from him, trying to get concealed behind loud pitches and provoking fronts.

It’s a testament to how far gone his mind is in order for that to escape him.

“You’re-” Without asking for verbal confirmation that he wouldn’t get, Chuuya hurriedly takes off his gloves, “Gimme that- where is it?” He blindly wanders till he finds a bandaged wrist and grasps it. The stiffen of the other gets ignored as his hands travel to the only bare parts in Dazai’s body– his fingers and face. The fingers are frigid to the point where he can’t hold them for more than a few seconds, while the moment he clumsily smacks the face in order to cup it with both hands, it’s like all his body heat rushes to it– the skin cold, hungry and craving any kind of warmth, “What the hell- you’re fucking freezing!”

“Wow, what an astute observation, Chuuya.” He hears the roll of the other’s eyes, as Dazai’s quivering fingers hold onto both of Chuuya’s wrists, trying to push them away from his face but not putting that much effort into it, “It’s not like we’re literally in a freezer room.”

“No- this isn’t normal.” Chuuya declares, squeezing the cheeks in. How come cold skin can burn so much? “We’ve only been here for like…”

“Twenty minutes?”

“Exactly. Doesn’t it take about… way longer for hypothermia to kick in?”

“That’s you! You’re the abnormal one!” Dazai exclaims, sounding more genuine than he has been since they’ve been thrown in here. Scratch that– since he’d known him, “You think all people come with a built-in heater? I thought you realized that that’s not the case during your mission in Siberia. And you call me a fish.”

Chuuya pauses promptly. Oh, right. Sometimes he forgets that he isn’t the only one who occasionally wakes up to screams coming from within, or feels unprecedented urge to unleash chaos in stressful situations, or even runs way warmer than others. These are constants in his life. Constants he has to remind himself that no other person experiences…

And even if Arahabaki is asleep, the remnants of his abnormally high temperature is still very much intact. Chuuya doesn’t feel much past the chills of the poison itself, other than that? Coolness at best at his extremists. He’d need to stay here thirty minutes longer for the real frigidness to kick in…

Though Chuuya is equally aware that while his core temperature is abnormally high, Dazai’s core temperature is, funnily enough, abnormally low. Leave him out in the snow for a few minutes and you’d get a hypothermic mackerel popsicle in no time.

Chuuya grimaces. Stupid, stupid.

How could he forget that? His mind defends him, tells him it must have been the poison, that it must have played a part in brushing that fact aside. Chuuya wants to curse it out. He’s retained many random facts about Dazai by heart– so, so many, some even entirely useless; but when it comes to important stuff he somehow has to be reminded of them the hard way. What is wrong with him?

Well, time to make up for that. Harshly, because the bastard deserves it.

“I’m perfectly normal, thank you very much.” He lies through his teeth, but his voice is almost soft, fingers still intact with the skin cosplaying an ice wall, “You’re the one with a terrible immune system that is eager to kill you at the first given chance.”

Dazai chuckles, breathily once again. Shakily, the accurate word for it. “Dying by hypothermia i-isn’t too bad, actually!”

“Just- fucking drop it, will you? You don’t need to do that shit.” Once again he grits out softer than intended, finally cutting the contact. If he had his eyes working, he’d have seen the way Dazai chases the hands for a second before collecting himself and drawing back, “Come closer before I snatch you by the hair.”

“Chuuya wouldn’t have the energy to, anyway…” Dazai finally sounds as slurred and exhausted as he should, and Chuuya’s thankful he can even move– numbness probably there but hasn’t fully settled in.

“You remember our code?”

“Code white? O-Of course I do. Have many fond memories with it.” He hears the rustle of fabric, which means that Dazai is taking off his coat. Chuuya does the same, if a little slower.

“Stage?”

“Mild.”

Chuuya exhales, “Thank fuck, I wasn’t looking forward to sharing body heat with you properly.”

There is a pause, then, “…Severe, then.” He sees the smirk in the Dazai’s face without the need to see at all.

“That so? I’ll bash your head against that metal wall, then.” He knocks behind him twice, just as he senses Dazai drawing near, “Seems like it would do the trick nicely.”  

“No thanks, I-I change my mind. I’d like the mild-stage treatment.”

“Just as I thought.”

Chuuya suddenly feels a weight on his lap, and acts. He takes both of their coats and wraps them with it as make-shift blankets, just as Dazai gets comfortably seated, ear over Chuuya’s heart, knees tucked close. The redhead presses his lips on the hair beneath him before he can help it, feeling the frost that has settled there. One arm supports the taller’s shoulder and back, while the other wraps around Dazai’s midsection, keeping him caged in.

Now without the need to hide anything, Dazai’s shivers turn to trembles, rocking him to his core and rocking Chuuya along with it. The brunette wraps the coats tighter around himself, pulse audibly rapid and panicking, trying to compensate the body for the heat it lost apace.

Chuuya’s migraine begins dissipating a little, and he dares open his eyes, to find the variety of colors taking the form of actual shapes, now. He relaxes, just as he feels Dazai do the same– their positioning, strange as it may come for them, somehow feeling utterly natural…

“Gosh, I almost forgot your stupid tendency to never speak up in situations like this.” The mafioso chastises midst the curls, “What? Were you trying to make up for the fact that I got drugged cuz of you?” Chuuya is sure there might be a number of other reasons, like the fact that Dazai could have simply been waiting to die like that– to pass out from the cold and never feel it when Chuuya tries to wake him up again.

But Dazai’s silence grants him an abundance of answers, one of them that confirms his verbal question, and he tskes in displeasure.

“Goody-two-shoes act that makes me sick...” He rasps, his upset stomach comforted with the added pressure to it.

Dazai huffs, finding the energy to nuzzle his cheek to Chuuya’s chest exactly like a freaking cat, “My personal heater…”

At how weirdly endearing that sounds, Chuuya bristles, “I’m not your fucking-”

“Along with being my dog? Too many jobs for your brain to handle, Chibi…!” Dazai’s slurred speech sounds funny, but the words themselves cause the shorter to growl, “You’ll overwork yourself!”

“Your neck is in a perfect position to get snapped. Watch your words.”

“Hm…” Dazai takes the threat in stride, one of his hands that was lost under the blanket coming up to hold onto Chuuya’s shoulder, “The air still smells bad, by the way.”

“Then I’ll keep you trapped in it for longer.” Chuuya counters, sharing his former partner’s frigidness without mind or care. He meekly feels the forehead concealed under brown bangs, to find it minutely warmer than before. Good, great.

“How much longer are we staying here again…?” Dazai asks.

Chuuya blinks, cozy, “Not much. I can see better now.”

“Mm, then all your strength will be back in ten minutes at most…”

“Of course you still memorize the exact cooldown duration of my ability.” Chuuya would have rolled his eyes if it weren’t for his splitting headache, “Why am I not surprised?”

Dazai keeps quiet, head hanging as he mumbles, “Chuuya’s the one with a bad memory…”

The redhead pauses, unable to deny the present truth before him, “Maybe…” He mumbles back, then huffs, “But at least you’re a thorn in my side that annoyingly reminds me of the kind of stuff I eagerly want forgotten…”

“If it’ll make Chuuya miserable,” Dazai tilts his head up. Chuuya sees the smile so clear, bright and giddy. Blurry at the edges but real. “I’ll always be a thorn in his side that will always keep annoyingly reminding him…”

Something leaps in his heart at the connotation embedded in these words, of his former partner vowing to never leave again, to forever be a part of the mafioso’s life despite what life has done them, despite the circumstances. And Chuuya himself vows to never forget how such a simple word almost sent him in a haze of emotions so deep and human. The word always.

His hold tightens, and he hides his face before mumbling, “Of course it will make me miserable, bastard…”

~~~~

Hc for context: I’m a ‘Chuuya has amnesia as a trauma response’ believer. Like yeah he remembers some details regarding missions but otherwise blocks out anything his mind deems too stressful to deal with. “Your mission in Siberia” Actually had most of his subordinates die because they stayed for the cold too long. :’) Obviously, some missions with Dazai are in that chunk as well, along with the entirety of Stormbringer cuz I said so jnrgjrn.

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! This wasn’t my best work so forgive me, Essie! I’ll try my best to edit and tweak some things in here when I have the energy. <33

[feukt-42]

Yet another post about Leda

You know, its kind of funny, but I've been browsing ER fanfics and fancontent almost daily for a while now (pls help), and one thing I've noticed is that a lot of people just. do not want. to put Leda and the gang in their fanfics. The most out of all Miquella's followers I found was Ansbach with 68 fics on Ao3. Leda herself comes at second with 48 fics and the others just kind of fizzle out after that. By comparison, Messmer, another DLC character, already has 500 fics.

Now, I know that this in large part due to the Messmer horny. But still. There's been 1,372 fics released in the ER tag since the DLC released as of me writing this. That doesn't really explain it. A good explanation might be that souls fans like to dwell on the pre-canon lore era we don't get to see, but even then, I remain disappointed by the lack of Leda in those fics as well. I have read several Haligtree-or-adjacent-focused fics written post SotE and few of them feature Leda or the needle knights, which is honestly a shame because Miquella having his own order of knights (almost counterbalance to the cleanrots), is a very interesting idea, and I am starving for Leda interacting with literally any member of that cast, her whole deal is just so interesting. And its not like Miquella doesn't care about her and she's just a weird fanboy, he gave her a wholeass rune and shit.

"But OP," you might be asking, "why dont you just write your own fic then ?". And you see, that is an excellent point, but I am unfortunately a coward with no confidence in my writing skills. So instead, I decide to make this.

I hereby present :

My Leda facts/analysis/interpretation/theories collection !

I am making this mostly to gush about Leda to spark interest in her as a character and maybe give interested writers who have actual skill to use this to get some inspiration. By no means am I suggesting that this is a guide everyone should follow, this is mostly just my inane ramblings about a character i am obsessed with. Still, if it helps someone make something, that's a net positive in my book.

without further ado, let's get into it.

Part 1 : Miscellaneous Facts

Fact number 1 : Leda doesn't see grace (at least her character model implies so):

I don't remember where it was, but I remember seeing a post that had every SotE NPC's eye colour in it. And a cool thing about that was that only a few characters didn't have the grace of gold in their eyes. And I remember specifically getting to Leda, noble knight of Miquella, and finding out that her eyes do not have a single trace of gold in them. They are grey with a blood-red clouding.

And I just found that so interesting it made me make this post, because what does it mean ? How did she lose it ? Did she ever have it in the 1st place ? Some of you might be thinking it's because she follows Miquella and not the GO, but the funny part is that, again, most of the others have it !

Hornsent has it, Ansbach has it, Freyja has it, Ymir has it, Moore has it, even the fucking madding hand has it. So why doesnt Leda ? (this also goes for some of the other NPCs who don't have it but im not spinning them in my head like a microwave so too bad ig)

Fact number 2 : She definitely killed the other needle knights

Ok so I already talked about this somewhere but I don't remember where so let's just start over from the beginning. The description of the Retaliatory Crossed-Tree states there were once more Needle Knights but now there's only one left. Meanwhile, Leda's sword says it "still reeks with the stench of crusted blood that lingers from the cull of her knightly comrades". Love myself a good "can't wash away the blood" trope.

Anyways, I took those two facts together to mean that she killed the other Needle Knights and talked about it in that alleged prior conversation I mentioned, but someone else replied that her "knightly comrades" could very well mean Hornsent and Ansbach, whom she attempts to cull before you reach Enir-Ilim. And I wanted to disagree with that, but I didn't actually have any evidence except "it's funnier this way" so you know, fair's fair. Except ! No it isn't !

When you help kill Hornsent, she says this :

He never placed his full trust in me, even under the effect of Kindly Miquella's spell. He must've recognised something. The scent of the killer that slept within me. The stench of crusted blood.

Mind you, this is before killing Ansbach, and right after killing Hornsent. The crusted blood from the cull of her comrades cannot be theirs, meaning Leda did kill the other NKs.

Fact number 3 : She deadass just smells like blood the whole time we see her

As just stated, we have 2 items describing how Leda just smells like dried blood. This has endless comedic potential imo, hear me out :

You first meet this dignified, knightly woman in Mohgs arena. You don't notice anything wrong with her smell, because of course it smells like blood in here, have you seen the place ?

The next time you meet her is in Scadu Altus. You begin to think something does smell really bad here. It's still not her however, because the Hornsent and his canonically shitstained loincloth are standing like 10 meters away from you, likely overpowering the scent.

You only get to realize its her constantly smelling like blood after the charm is broken and Hornsent leaves, and that coincides perfectly with the reveal that she's just paranoid as fuck.

10/10 olfactive storytelling. I mostly just put this fact here in honor of that Bloodborne bosses ranked by smell post tbh, that shit lives rent-free in my brain.

Character analysis time ! This bit is more given to interpretation so feel free to disagree on this :

Shes really not that bloodthirsty you guys

Alright, so this one might be a bit surprising given we just went over the fact she smells like blood, but the popular interpretation of Leda doing this because she likes killing and shit is just dead wrong to me. I spoke about it before, but there are so many lines of dialogue that suggest otherwise. Hell, even the sword description says she tried her damnedest to get the blood to come off. Here are some of the most telling lines i found (from fextralife/the github with all the text from SotE) :

-Her describing herself as a "killer" in that line about hornsent and crusted blood earlier, she seems to be very blunt and honest about what she does, almost to a self-deprecating point.

-I know I shouldn't let myself... But I suppose it's only natural to feel the weight of one's deeds at times like these. There is plenty left to be done. And I will see to it. <- what else do i even add here

-I don't enjoy casting suspicion on anyone I've called a comrade. But it's a small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things. We must eradicate all doubt...

-None can deny Sir Ansbach was truly a great man. We can be proud, that we were the last opponents he ever faced.

-Sir Ansbach must have considered it an honourable end, being felled by your hand. After all, the good fellow held you in the highest regard. When we speak of it, we may speak with pride—that we were Sir Ansbach's final adversaries

Those lines seem to be alternate versions of the dialogue you get after helping her kill Ansbach. And oh my fucking goodness gracious, i fucking love the second one. Like ghhhhhh, the grief for a comrade and the guilt and the self-justification and the need to move forward and theres somehow even more blood on her sword that she can't ever wash off but she can't stop here, she has to keep doing this because its not about her for her, its not about her feelings or her guilt its all just for the greater purpose shes reaching towards arghhh its so good.

There's also a notable throughline of her shutting her emotions down more and more as she goes, whether its to better do her job or to follow in miquella's footsteps :

-Unruly emotions only lead to misfortune. All the more reason we need someone like Miquella the Kind.

-Man is a compassionate animal, for better or worse.

-So be it. If you insist upon facing Miquella the Kind, Then I will run you through, whoever you might be.

-A single betrayal, enough to turn the tides… Unfortunate, but I will leave you be, for now. 

-I expected things to end differently with you. What a pity

-I suppose it was Sir Ansbach who won you over. Fine. One more heart for my blade to skewer.

Side Note : Those three last ones also read like shes really salty about being betrayed, and that's really juicy because it feels like she trusted you. She trusted you a lot more than most of the others, so it really stings quite a bit to learn you were lying the entire time.

All in all, it really does feel like she has to shut herself down to be a better knight, a more efficient tool for Miquella to wield. It's also quite tragic because she seems to be a compassionate person at heart, she welcomes you into the club, she constantly tries to understand the reasonings for other people's actions, and she tries to find ways to let those she suspects off the hook :

-The hornsent, hmm. On one hand, he trusts Miquella the Kind to bring salvation to his people. With the enchantment lifted, his vengeful passions may once again ignite, but surely he'd be mindful of Kindly Miquella's promise... <- this reads like her trying to convince herself she doesn't have to kill him

It's also very interesting because despite that, she really doesn't seem to be much of a people person :

-But for this very reason, Thiollier is incapable of betrayal. St. Trina's love for Kind Miquella is boundless. She is, after all, his other half. Or perhaps her feelings go beyond even that. Even if she was left behind, I doubt her heart would waver. <- she's just deadass wrong about Thiollier and St Trina

-If you don't meet her before the charm breaks, she does a really awkward introduction and then immediately starts infodumping about her crippling paranoia and zealotry

-Ansbach straight up just tells you : So, you've taken Lady Leda's side. I'm glad she stands with an ally. She tends to overestimate the burden she might carry alone. This is straight up just "oh nice, you finally made a friend, im so glad for you". This implies that Ansbach didn't believe Leda really had anyone on her side before then, and she kinda doesn't tbh. No one is really here because of Leda in the final battle, Dane is here for Miquella, Freyja is here for Radahn, Moore is here to cope with existence, and Hornsent just has an (understandable) hate boner for everything Golden Order. She doesn't really have any friends.

(Also shoutout to Ansbach for being concerned about the people trying to kill him, he really is the goat fr. Also: I've utterly failed you both... No wait grandpa its not your fault im so sorry)

--the funniest moment in the DLC imo : I've come to a realisation... There's ample evidence... Without Kindly Miquella's influence... I'm quite mistrustful of others...

Ah yes of course, the trust issues. Where do I even start.

This woman has nothing but contempt for mankind as a species. She is, as stated earlier, compassionate and tries to be nice to people but she constantly assumes the worst of everyone as a reflex. Her trying to find a way not to kill Hornsent is only because she wholeheartedly believe he will be the worst version of himself as a baseline, and thus thinks of him as a threat who must be dealt with.

-I'm afraid Sir Ansbach will have to be next. He claims he hasn't the spirit to take up his sword again, But in his day, he was the feared commander of the Pureblood Knights, who cleaved open Miquella the Kind with his blood blade. But I doubt it'll be very long... Before he recalls, as I have, the cascading sheets of blood. <- no trust at all

-her dialogue about you "turning on her" also feel like she's resigned about it, like someone who came in expecting failure and was still disappointed, like why did i even try, i should really know better.

-That aside, man is by nature a creature of conquest. They were never saints. They just happened to be on the losing side of a war. <- the classic. What else needs to be said. These are the words of someone who takes war, violence and hatred as a given.

And that leads me to my next point. I think Leda has had a very violent life overall. Some of the shit she says sounds too specific to just be a generalisation:

-But vengeance changes a man.

-Unruly emotions only lead to misfortune.

-Before he recalls, as I have, the cascading sheets of blood.

-One more heart for my blade to skewer.  

-The scent of the killer that slept within me.

This all sounds like she's talking from experience, and there's also her skills as a knight : she has the highest hp pools of the gank squad and can 2-3 shot most players. I know gameplay =/=lore but Freyja respects the hell out of her: Lady Leda and honourable Ansbach are of a special breed.

It's a very interesting combination of an extremely skilled knight who is very good at killing, has presumably been living a very violent existence and who trusts no one but herself, but who also hates having to kill and feels really guilty about it, despite having to do it for the sake of her cause.

And I believe that is the crux of her purpose, and why she is going through so much to fulfill it at any cost:

Leda believes intelligent beings are inherently flawed , and can never be trusted to do anything but make each other suffer. Leda is tired of inflicting and receiving violence, and sees little purpose in seeing the good in others. Leda would have probably made a terrific Lord of Frenzied Flame with how little hope she has.

But instead, she found Miquella. Miquella, who dreams of an age of compassion and who is in a position to achieve it, Miquella, who was raised in an order built and maintained through violence and grew to abhor it. Miquella, who Leda probably sees herself in, who Leda trusts blindly and unconditionally, for whom Leda is ready to commit any atrocity, no matter how it makes her feel, because he is her lifeline. He is her very last hope, the only solution short of complete annihilation she can see for mankind to reach pace.

So what if that peace is forced, is all of this suffering truly worth what little free will we can exert onto our world ? Leda has seen what mankind does with its free will, and she is tired of it.

She doesn't care if she lives to see it, she doesn't care if she has to kill every last part of herself in order for the world to see peace. No one will miss her anyway, she's nothing but a blood-soaked murderer. It doesn't matter if she likes these people, friendship and trust aren't worth all this senseless violence.

So she'll keep killing and killing and culling, until her blade is dull with crusted blood and every last obstacle to Miquella's age of compassion is gone. That's what a Needle knight does, is it not ? Kindly Miquella fashioned us as his needles to quell all, to ward away all.

And if Miquella doesn't understand her, it doesn't matter. He's far too good to understand the sacrifices necessary. She'll do what he can't. The other needle knights did not understand this, they were too naive to do what has to be done, so they were a liability. Don't think about their betrayed looks of terror, don't think about the cloying stench of blood sticking to your footsteps, this is your burden, this is what you deserve. You already knew you couldn't trust anyone, why would this be different ?

If Miquella must cast away parts of his very being to have this world then so can you. So sever that part of yourself that says you should be nice, that you should trust those willing to help, it only makes things worse. It will all be worth it in the end.

Phew, i kind of went apeshit while writing that last part. I hadn't really planned all that honestly.

To conclude this essay, I'd like to point out a really fun parallel to draw here. In this analysis, I have described my interpretation of Leda as a very skilled self-loathing blood-soaked knight who is tired of their endless crusade and yet is endlessly pushed forward by their utter devotion to their god, their salvation made flesh, whom they will shield for the atrocities committed in their name by being the sole person to blame. If that doesnt remind you of Messmer, then i think ill just curl up into a ball and yell very loudly.

Thanks for reading till the end of this absolutely nightmarishly long ramble, let me know if you liked it ! And don't hesitate to send any Leda fics you find or write along the way !

[marabarl-and-marlbara]

Hi Mara,

I wanted to say that all of your writing feels extremely genuine, and I am inspired by the honesty and detachment in your retrospective posts, especially when talking about personal—external—influences. I rarely hear others say that their interest in X is simply gone, or admit that they like(d) Y because the ‘context’ seemingly urged them to. A pattern I often notice instead is personal attachment and the unwillingness to let go of ideas and things which no longer resonate or never really have in the first place.

I wish it was easy to distill all of one’s experiences and likes, remember why and how they came to be, be honest as to how one felt about them, separate the wheat from the chaff, and arrive at something that feels truly genuine and ‘you’.

It feels reductive and probably comes with projection on my part, but that’s the impression I get.

Hope the storm didn’t affect you and your family too much.

Good morning, anonymous--thank you very much for such a kind message!

I wrote about this more vaguely in last months subscriber post, reflecting on "how nothing seemed to scare me" lately and how baffling it seemed that people thought Stephen King's Apt Pupil was a terrifying horror story, and incidentally had been thinking about this during the period of having power but having no internet after Hurricane Milton--I had all these videogames I tried to play but realized they all felt completely boring and uninteresting without something to listen (my favorite streamer, my favorite podcast) to while playing (and in turn, that I needed to be doing something somewhat stimulating while listening to something); I had all these anime shows I could be watching, too, but again little interest because they were all just dead boring--and all I could really manage for myself were to read Henry James and rediscover my old Longmont Potion Castle collection to listen to until internet came back;

but, I don't know how much the genuine 'you' matters; I think about something a sculpture professor told me about the hippies and an adage they had that went kill your parents, and the professor added that it was meant not (always) literally, but to disentangle yourself from 'the origin' or: maybe: the most sacred and profane feelings you see yourself as being a-part of;

realizing I basically have zero interest in being an artist might have been a big hurdle for me to disentangle from way-back in Wilderness when I had some ego-fear of losing my identity as Marabarl and what that entailed: divulging everything about myself, being self destructive, seeming crazy, and using it all as oil to art--severing that all seemed like it would drive me more lonely and leave me with nothing but some bare-dry stick of a person that'd few people would be interested in (but glimpsing at this idea also spoke to how 'being an artist' had little to do with my own desire and more to do with maintaining 'connection' with 'invisible others'). I don't know if killing my parent there had left me a more true version of myself, but it severed connections I mostly kept entwined by wholly out of fear of the loneliness or of letting go of a familiar rot and pain. I'm far more boring than the older Mara, because really now all I'd like to do is go to my weekly sandwich shop, cook, clean, read, listen to audiobooks, be monotonously religious, and try to write bad fiction that I never finish because I keep rewriting the same few parts for months at a time.

There's a quote from a book I finished a few days ago, For Thy Great Pain Have Mercy On My Little Pain, by Victoria Mackenzie, that I really loved:

"When the day begins, we say that it is breaking. So with my life. Part of me had to be taken into pieces before I could truly start to live. For in my shewings Jesus had said, 'I shall shatter you for your vain passions and your vicious pride; and after that I shall gather you together and make you humble and meek, pure and holy, be oneing you to me.'

My will was broken and I am glad of it. I am only a thing that moves this broom and sweeps the curled leaves and corpses of insects from one side of my cell to the other."

Each layer of myself, as it seems with age, starts to seem more-and-more to be a vanity that I hold to myself well-after it has separated and shed, out of fear and comfort for the more simple figure that is underneath--morosely, I start to really believe the purest part of my-self comes with death when all has been shed away wholly and the carcass is left as the most simple and un-connected atom of Me, and for others: when the Left are shred out to ash and the Right are ate up to heaven; tears and emotion for the dead, too, a type of vanity over wishing that lost other to not be gone from the identity yet though it is truly just another vain callous now shed and clung-to: Dieth and Daniela who I keep getting mad at in fear of letting go-of;

but even in more simple ways--remembering old loves towards things like Narutaru and not wanting to let go because of how fond and warm they felt just a few years ago, and keeping that old passion around like it were furniture that had gone decrepit past any real function except favor; although, during Hurricane Milton, again between time of Power but no Internet, I rewatched some of FLCL and .hack//sign and wished I could be rewatching Hey Arnold's scary episodes--cause really no-matter how much I think I'm capable of letting go of things that seem all vain, boring, and worthless to the simple self, I am a simple creature who wants comfort in the familiar and to things I've loved and felt loved by. And, luckily, I still love Boogiepop! (I think it's easier to keep a love for those things around because they don't really remind me of bad-times as Narutaru does, but I'd like to always keep an effort to keep Hiroko and cute little Ensof in my heart)

Take care.

[sabine-smitten-obviously]

And now i want to find myself a haunted cottage ... to find the love of my life ❤️

I just started this wonderfull gem yesterday and finished this morning. And i am so reluctant to part with it that i even consider to reread it immediately.

So if you are into Good Omens, like Human AU and searching for a kind of different plot - here are my thoughts on a wonderful fanfic from @commodorecliche !

😃 Whats it about?

Aziraphale buys a little cottage and finds some books in it, written by A.J. Crowley. Oh - and there is a ghost in the house! You will never guess who that might be ... But what might sound cheesy really is not. I so loved the authors notes that i will throw them in here:

This is a ghost story. This is a story about the remnants of ourselves we leave behind. This is a story about life and about all the things that cannot be hidden, even after we die. This is a story about finding comfort in another creature, despite the dimensional divide that might stand between us. This is a ghost story. This is a love story.

And that it is. The notes say it all!

{There are minor spoilers ahead - i tried to collect my thoughts without giving too much away, but pls only go on if you are ok with that! }

What i absolutely adore in this wunderful piece:

🤍It is a tale of love told from Aziraphale´s point of view only. Being a ghost story i had goose bumps several times during the first chapters. Nothing too scary, but quite exciting! It also has a bit of angst in it, but mostly it is deeply loving and what hurts is the fact that - well - Crowley is a ghost and Aziraphale is human. There is a natural limit to their connection. I dont want to tell more because i dont want to spoil the story. You should definitely mind the tags before you start reading!

❤️ It is a human AU but takes on a very different plot with Crowley being a ghost. So somehow this is so far unique to me in the GO-universe, where most human AU tend to put them both in the same place - be it rockstars, book sellers, teachers and parents and so on.

🤍Having a ghost and a human falling in love with each other - oh it is so sweet but also ... tragic? Having someone to love without being ever able to touch him? To barely feel him? Crowley is so well written, he is merely an essence - there and at the same time not.

🩶What i really enjoyed is that you will know every character but most of the stereotypes are left out. Anathema is not psychic (or at least it isnt mentionned) for example. There is no bickering between Aziraphale and Crowley. No sentences or dialogues from GO thrown back to the reader. Still everything blends together so well.

🖤 Oh and i loved this fact: Crowley is a writer! Crowley is the one with the words !!! and for once there is no stumbling, no "ngk", no "fuck" no nothing. Most of human AU leave Crowley with "clever hands" but words not so fluently ... (A fact that kind of surprises me often because i am not so sure every Shakespearean Text is really Shakespeare ... right? ;-))

❤️Aziraphale is happy with his body - this is something i deeply appreciate. I have read roundabout 60 fanfics so far and in most human AU his thoughts about himself can be rather derogatory.

🖤Crowley is not the one begging Aziraphale to stay or be together with him - also a quite common theme in GO-fanfics. I absolutely love that!!

I kind of realise now that me writing reviews is my way of parting with a story that particularly got to my heart. This one is truly beautiful for several reasons and i had everything from goosebumps to laughter to angst to heartache to relief to sadness. It ends well, if it is happy is really only your choice. ❤️

This story made me finally set up a "re-read-list" and i absolutely recommend it, if you´re in for a bit of heartache, a different plot and a different version of a "and they life happy ever after". It is a quiet, lovable and aching book, well balanced and still easy to read.

ps: I thought a lot about it, could i do it? Could i fall in love with a ghost? I would like to think of myself as having stayed in the house but probably i would have run. If i had come past this first angst and built a connection - would i have been able to? Would it have been enough to simply love? To have an ethereal connection and know you are not alone but ... no friends to share with, to be grounded to the house, no picnics, no touch? What are your thoughts on this?

pps: if you have read this one, pls come here and scream and cry with me in the comments!!! I dont want to tell too much here but there are scenes in the book that i would love to romp on in the comments!!

[glassprism]

Hii!! I found out about trading an hour ago and am a bit confused. Like, how do you even find the bootlegs if not on youtube? Also, why trade instead of posting publicly?

I have a YouTube page where I post slime tutorials and the like of shows I have watched or proshots I have downloaded. Why gatekeep? I'm literally just curious, I don't mean to offend.

So, the thing that I really, really want to emphasize, because I feel like it'll make everything make more sense, is that bootlegging is illegal. It is against the law, people can and do get arrested for it, and there have been many recorders (mostly filmers) in the past who have been caught and simply disappeared, taking with them any unreleased boots and all potential boots they could have filmed in the future.

And I say that because I REALLY want to emphasize that when people, especially filmers, say, "Hey, can you not post these on YouTube or anywhere else publicly?" it's NOT because they are trying to "gatekeep". Many of them are making their bootlegs as accessible as possible by making it available for purchase and/or trade down the line. They are doing it for their own safety. They are risking legal repercussions getting these bootlegs to you and are asking you not to get them into trouble by blatantly posting their stuff on the most accessible video-sharing site out there. THEY ARE TRYING NOT TO GET FINED, ARRESTED, OR WORSE.

Okay, got all that? Great! Now I can answer your questions.

First - many traders, myself included, have trading sites where we post everything we have available to trade. That is a great place to find bootlegs, and even better, people who have those bootlegs and might be willing to trade or (if you're polite) gift them to you! Here's mine. How do you find these sites? Honestly, a lot of times I just stumble on them by Googling something like "[name of show] bootleg trade". What I also personally do is start bookmarking sites of traders that have large collections of shows I'm interested in (like Phantom) or the sites of people who record bootlegs, so that I can easily check up on them every week or so.

There are also many areas where traders congregate! Musical Exchange on LiveJournal is one of the easiest to find. There was a Yahoo board back in the day that has not turned into a Groups io thing. There's Encora Reprise (I don't use it and I feel like it keeps going down but some swear by it). There are also several Discord servers devoted to trading or set up by filmers. Those are also great places to find other traders and newly released boots.

Second, I partially answered your question about posting publicly with the safety issue, but the other answer is, simply, that trading is decentralized because it's illegal. I don't think there's any one person who has every bootleg ever recorded, it's all spread out amongst us, and it's going to be extremely difficult to get everyone to pool it all together because, well, this is also a hobby, not a job, and we just don't have time for that. And even if we did, there probably is no person with enough space and money and time to upload every bootleg in the world and maintain it, because they will not get enough benefit out of it because musicals are a relatively niche interest.

Here's another way of thinking about it. I'm at the point of trading almost exclusively Phantom. I don't have every bootleg in the world, but my collection of Phantom boots alone is 2.7 TB. That is Phantom alone, I haven't even considered every other musical in the world and all their bootlegs. If you want me to have all these available publicly, I would basically need to get my own server. If I want my own server, I'm probably going to pay money. Hundreds of dollars of money. And I will have to maintain this, which will also cost money, with possibly the only way I get money back being to use, I don't know, ads or making users pay money for accounts, and unless I finagle things legally I could also be responsible if the site gets found and taken down, and you want me to do this, constantly, for bootlegs that 99% of people won't download? (You really think some people are raring to get the blurry 1992 video of Jun Sawaki, for example?) Yeah, that looks like a lot of work and trouble for me to do something that probably won't save others a lot of trouble either.

Anyway, I know you don't mean to be rude and I hope the above didn't come off as aggressive, it's just that, well, I've seen these arguments time and again and it never really seems to cross people's minds that, at the end of the day, this is a hobby that is technically illegal, that just about all the rules and limitations around are done for the safety of the bootlegger and not because they enjoy waving the boot out of your reach, and that trading is done because it's the safest, most anonymous way of, well, getting theatre bootlegs, that people have come up with. At any rate, I hope that answers your questions!

[hannahssimblr]

Look, I am a romance fan. If there's one thing I die for it's a kissing scene.

I'm now close to finishing Jude's teenage years, and all of those magical kisses have been had. The next part of the story is a more adult section, when kisses don't really mean as much as they do when you are seventeen.

The teen years had five main kiss scenes, 3 of which are first kisses (which we love)

I'm proud of them all but am curious as readers which has been your favourite.

Vote, in the name of teen romance.

1

I kiss her. 

She is not surprised. She puts her hands in the right place, behind my neck and she tilts her head forty five degrees to the right and she lets me kiss her, her top lip, her bottom lip, and I try to move her with me and create rhythm and melody with our mouths and our bodies but her head is as stiff as the rest of her, and after a minute or two she releases the breath she’s been holding the entire time onto my cheek in a shuddering torrent and I realise that she doesn’t really know what she’s doing.

2

Alison, when she kisses me, feels holy. She’s like a shrine whose feet I weep at, begging for healing. She and I, this is how we are, this is the cycle we repeat, when I’m lonely, when she’s lonely and we find ourselves in purgatory. She doesn’t want more from me than this, than this shallow kissing, masquerading as something with depth, and sex, sometimes, when we can find a place to have it. I shouldn’t want more either. I don’t think I really do, not if I’m honest with myself, but sometimes I want to ask her why not. Maybe she’s confusing on purpose. Maybe she just likes to punish men. I think that it’d be fair enough if she did. We as a collective have mostly been cruel to her.

3

“Too late.”

“It’s not.”

I bend and kiss her before she can argue any more. Once, just once, but insistently, and I pull back hard with a smack expecting outrage on her face but I find only surprise, desire, and eyes that flick from my eyes to my mouth and back. I kiss her again, slow this time, deep, sure, as my hands hold her hips close to mine, willing for this kiss to wipe it all away, all of the years of hurt and anguish between us, and she lets me kiss her, and she kisses me back with hands that thread through my hair and lips that part so I can slide my tongue inside her mouth.

My knees knock against hers in our clumsy waltz towards her bed and we come down on it together, my body pressing against hers and my fingers finding the warm skin beneath her t-shirt. I draw back to look at her again, dark eyes and full lips and skin, as is mine, blushed amber with the first rays of dawn that stream through the window. 

4

The words she opens her mouth to say never come, because then my lips are on hers. 

I go slow at first. With caution, I explore, gently placing my hands on her neck, until she firmly grabs the front of my t-shirt, and I give in to it. I kiss her greedily. 

The urge comes to put my hands on her. Pulling her closer, my thumb caresses the curve of her waist beneath the hem of her top, her skin, the overwhelming feel of her beautiful, perfect body. This is what I imagined a hundred times.

She sighs involuntarily and my body burns. How stupid I am for this? Why did I do it here? Against this weird wall of plastic flowers, and not inside my tent, where I could lie her down, take my time slipping my hands inside her clothes to inspire more of these gorgeous, blissful sounds she is sighing against my mouth. 

5

Oh, she’s going to kiss me.

I know it seconds before she plucks up the courage, which gives me ample time to stop it, but I don’t. I don’t want to. She leans in, and I let her.

She goes in carefully, with her hand on my neck, and her head tilts to the side before she dots one little kiss on my lips. Two. As though experimenting, she turns the other way, three, four… 

I slide my hands around her waist and kiss her back.

Other kisses don’t make me feel the way I felt last night, as though she’s thrown a match on me and set my body alight, so I can justify doing it again by deciding I am too weak to resist it, that they day is long and that I deserve to surrender to something good.

Moving my hands to cradle her head, I glide my tongue along her bottom lip and she opens her mouth to me, soft and hot and slow, as my thumbs stroke her cheeks. I bite her bottom lip, and her top, as into my mouth, she moans against my gentle onslaught. The moment she makes that sound, I’m gone. 

[perpetuelledaydreaming]

Ivy | chapter fourteenth

listen to: Right Where You Left Me- Taylor Swift (playlist here)

warning: infidelity. violence. blood. for this chapter is mostly grief.

word count: 2.1k

series masterlist + read the next chapter early on my ko-fii!!

The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows over your batter body. The blood on your hands had dried by now, as well as the tears in your eyes as you drove through the narrow grey road. With no helmet on, you finally feel like you can breathe as your mind plays over and over again a collection of the last twenty-four hours. 

Rooster’s bloody lip, Jake’s blood on his face. The way they looked at you and everyone looked at you as you exited the base with blood dripping from your body. How you’d brushed off Jake as he tried to talk to you after the exercise, how you’d undressed willingly to Bradley, how you didn’t tell him you were his. Jake’s face when Bradley told him you’d slept together, Bradley’s face as Jake told him you’d been together for five months. 

You barely realize you need to stop before you go farther than you intend to. You hear the soft rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of birds. Summer was slowly slipping away; it ended for you when Jake and you had broken things off, though. Your heart weighs heavy as you walk on the grass; a part of you wants to keep pulling away from this. 

You hadn’t been there in a while. 

You’d visited only once since you’d come back. 

“Hey, Dad,” you start softly, your voice quivering. Kneeling, you brush away the fallen leaves, clearing a space to sit beside the cold stone. You trace your fingers over the engraved name, the memories of him flooding back. 

Thomas ‘Iceman’ Kazansky 

1959-2022

You wonder what you can say; your heart feels so heavy as you watch the tombstone. A constant ache that you had never indeed addressed. 

“I really wish you were here right now,” Tears well up in your eyes as you continue. “I don’t know what I’m doing, and I feel like I’m messing everything up,” 

You pause for a moment, watching his name expectantly. I wish you could feel him, hoping he could send you a sign. You need him here, you’ve fucked up everything, and now you’re entirely alone. You’re alone because he left you so, so soon. He isn’t there. He will never be able to make it right. You broke everything, and there’s no way to make it right. 

Suddenly, grief overwhelms you. Your shoulders shake with the weight of your emotions, and your tears fall freely, splashing onto the grass beneath you. 

“I don’t know what to do, Dad,” you admit through your sobs. “I’m angry at myself for letting it get this bad, I’m angry at you for never allowing me to look beyond what you wanted, I’m angry for,” you stop yourself. It is useless to blame anyone but yourself; it is your fault. Silence lingers for a second. “I should’ve been happy with just Rooster, right?”

You stare at the stone as you bite your inner cheek. 

“Right?” you whisper, your voice barely audible. Deep down, you know it can’t be the truth; you’re lying to yourself and him. It can’t be true because you know that being as happy as you were with Jake meant that it wasn’t a mistake. 

“I don’t know how to make it better, and now we will go to a death trap together, and,” you take a sigh, attempting to calm down the way your chest aches. “If I choose one, I lose the other,”

Defeated, you sit next to the stone, your back to one of the sides while you try to stop crying. The lump in your throat doesn’t surrender until a while has gone by. The memories of Ice flood back, a bittersweet montage of all the lessons he taught you, the compilation of them in your mind. To find clarity, you go back to those moments. You go back to what you learned, hoping to find an answer. 

Tears well up in your eyes as you recall Ice’s voice. A lesson you learned when you started to fly with him, you can feel him. In one of those times, he let you take control of the flight when you were barely a teenager, one of those airplanes he’d gotten just to teach his kids, which mostly ended up being just you. 

“Don’t let anything get in between you’re flying,” he’d told you during that sunset after you’d made a wrong turn. “Nothing gets between you and this plane. No fear, no tears, no one, and nothing. You and your wingman have to get home safe before and above anything,” 

When you open your eyes, leaning drowsily back against the stone even further. You can finally breathe as you make your decision. You want it to stop; you want to put a pause on your life, on the decision, and you are hurting—they're hurting. You want to save their lives and know you’ll put them in more danger if you don’t stop.  

“Dad,” you murmur as you turn to the rock, secretly hoping to see him beside you. “I wish you were here,”

You can feel him; you can imagine him nodding in understanding; you wipe away the few tears in your cheeks before standing from the grave. 

You don’t arrive at your house until the twilight of the day casts a warm, golden glow that bathes your body in a soft, ethereal light. That is how Jake’s eyes fall on you; you seem so small. You have looked like that for Jake since this morning. The first time Jake had seen you like that was after you’d told him about kissing Rooster, then when he’d broken up with you. Before, it wasn’t feasible for Jake to see you in another light that wasn’t strong and decided, confident in yourself. 

You curated yourself so well in front of everyone before, he’d come to realize. No one is close enough ever to see the cracks. He wondered as your eyes fell on him if it was indeed a privilege to see you this torn apart. It didn’t feel like it, not when he could see your swollen nose and the dried blood on your body, eyes bloodshot from crying so much; he knew it well. It felt like even less when your eyes darted to the other side of the door, where Bradley was standing. 

They’d managed to get themselves to the nursery before they continued to tear themselves apart. Still, while Bradley was getting the stitches to his busted lip and Jake was getting checked to see if his nose was not effectively broken, they were biting each other’s heads off with insults and allegations. 

It wasn’t Jake’s proudest moment; the regret of letting you go alone in such a state was also eating him alive. 

At least until now, you don’t seem as broken anymore. 

Bradley notices it first, though. Perhaps because he has known you since he could remember, maybe it is because he also knew his uncle Ice like the back of his hands, he is not quite sure. But he is confident that, for him, it is pretty obvious that you’ve made a decision. 

You know he’s aware of it too, the way the corner of his eyes wrinkles, even with all the bruising, you can see it too. His face was etched with concern and anticipation, then something worse, fear. Jake’s anxiety doesn’t scale up until you speak. 

“Will you come inside?” 

The words come from you reasonably soft, but they pick it up immediately. The determination is unwavering. You are resolved. Neither Jake nor Bradley, who’d been pushing for an answer in the morning, were ready for you to have decided it that fast. The tension in the air is palpable as you open the doorstep into the room. The sun’s dying rays paint long shadows on the floor. 

Jake and Bradley suddenly are apprehensive about entering the place. Holding out at the other side of the threshold as you take off your shoes and look for clothes, you cringe as you watch your jacket and shoes from the day before on the misarranged couch. Quickly, you rearrange everything as well as you can while waiting for them to come in. You hope Jake doesn’t notice, but he does. 

He can’t stop following you with his gaze. 

“Aren’t you going to come in?” You ask them without looking, effectively avoiding Jake’s unwavering gaze. 

Bradley’s frustration is suddenly palpable as he watches how nonchalant you’ve turned after all this. “You’ve chosen,” he says as he enters the room. 

It is strange how much can change in 24 hours. Yesterday, barely at the same time, he thought he was getting you back. Now, nothing can be farther from the truth. 

“I have,”

Jake clenches his jaw as he expectantly waits for you to say Bradley’s name. He wouldn’t be surprised. He knows he was never the good guy; he knows he has played dirty before, trying to force you to decide. He isn’t the good guy you would’ve wanted. For a second, he lets himself think that he might be able to be happy for you and him. 

“I’m not choosing either of you,”

“You’re joking, right?”

“I’m not,” you state firmly. Bradley’s frustration is evident, but you press on, your gaze steady as you continue. “I’ve thought about this long and hard, and I refuse to let my emotions control my decisions. It’s not fair to any of us, and it’s time to put an end to this,”

Bradley’s voice takes on a skeptical tone. “How are you putting an end if you are not making a choice?” he scoffs. 

Your eyes dart to him, the tan skin and his caramel hair. You know him so well that you can trace the wrinkles in his forehead by memory now that he’s frowning. It seems unfair to him; how could it not? He had you this morning, in a bed, in his arms. An illusion. 

“We are going to get ourselves killed if we continue down this path,” you answer back firmly, your chest heavy as you watch Jake and then Bradley. “Nothing is more important than trusting each other, and we have less than a month to do so.”

Bradley persists, his frustration simmering. “You’re using the mission as—”

“—an excuse,” Jake’s voice suddenly interjects firmly. You snap your head towards him as you watch him softly. There’s nothing in those sea-foam eyes that can tell you what he’s thinking. 

You counter, “It isn’t an excuse. I’m doing what’s best for the sake of your well-being, for our well-being, for the team. I am not choosing either, and that’s my decision.”

Bradley’s brows furrow. “You’ll have to pick a wingman.”

You bite your inner cheek as you lean against the marble table where Jake and you’d spend so many nights together. Him cooking, you reading. Conversations always ran long. If it wasn’t conversations that ran long, it was kisses. 

“Maverick’s going to be my wingman,” you state softly, without looking at them, avoiding their reaction. 

“What?” they bark at the same time. The disbelief is palpable.

“I’ve called him. You are better off without me, and you’ve done this exercise with each other. Neither Cain nor Simpson want to see me interacting with either of you in the sky anyway,” you try to sound as reasonable as you can, but there’s no hiding that you’d also convinced Maverick of the choice. 

Bradley persists, “But we’ve been—”

“The decision was taken,” you interrupt firmly. “The mission is first, and I’m taking my emotions out of the equation, and that’s it,”

Bradley’s mouth opens for a moment and then closes. He stares at you wide-eyed, with utter shock at your words. There wasn’t a day where he wouldn’t think to fly without you before, not being your wingman but putting him together with Jake; even after everything, it feels too much like a betrayal. 

“You’re running away from them,” Jake speaks suddenly. 

Your eyes dart to him. There’s a feeling of betrayal in his words. It wasn’t a lie. Part of you knew it was the wisest decision, but it was a decision where you would’ve been let off as quickly as you could, without hurting the other one, without letting the other one go on a mission with a broken heart. You were washing your hands from this mess. 

“I’m not,” you retort. Your heart was racing, your voice suddenly turning strange and hoarse. 

The effect those sea foam eyes have on you is not fair. You feel naked now under them. You twisted yourself in so many ways for them, for them to keep looking at you like they used to. 

“And after the mission?” Bradley’s voice breaks whatever thoughts you had on Jake. 

You look down. Not wanting to answer because you wished that there wasn’t a timeline, that this could be suspended in the air, your eternal wish. 

Jake’s eyes linger with yours; he knows it already.

“She’ll have to choose after the mission,” he says softly. Already too aware of what was coming. 

“You’ll have to choose then after the mission,” Bradley agrees, lingering heat from the previous events from the night before still simmering in his chest, all that anger turning into harsher words. 

“If we don’t die first,” Jake replies. It’s barely a whisper, but all of you get it. 

If you come back. If all of you come back. That word always taunting you, now you couldn’t look at either of you anymore. 

“Let’s worry about not dying first. I want to shower now. Can you please go?” you say, avoiding their gaze. 

Jake’s the first to leave; you know his steps by now. You don’t need to see him; he doesn’t need to see you to know you’re both defeated. Bradley, though, lingers in the sun for a moment. He wants to say it almost involuntarily, always waiting for more information, always expecting you to confide in him. 

Now, you seem as cold as Ice was. 

“You know you’re making a choice here, right?” Bradley insists as he decides to leave; you raise your head to watch him. “Not choosing is a choice. Choices have consequences too, Brat.”

an: Honestly I am so thankful to anyone who is still reading this. I am so excited for the next few chapters we are only missing five and I really want to end this by the end of this month. thank you all for still keeping up with this I know I've been flaky and I am sorry! everything hasn't really been easy but your comments light up my days.

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