#truth is I’m scared of my blog dying so I’m trying to do what I can to post art

[groovygladiatorsheep]

I’m feeling so motivated to draw and I have an idea let’s see how this goes !!!!?

[jamesbuchananxsteviegrant]

I Pick the TV Show, Rogers Shuts His Cake-Hole | Bucky x Steve x Reader (Angst, Fluff)

Category: Angst, Fluff (Suggested) Age: 14+ Trigger Warnings: none, other than the standard explicit language Ship: Bucky x Steve x Reader Summary: Steve Snaps At Reader When He’s Stressed, Resulting In Her Being Very Upset Request: "can u write where steve/bucky is overwhelmed with something and when reader asks to help or is telling them to relax they snap at reader and reader is hurt which makes them feel really bad afterwards. thank you sm. i love ur writings. and this is anon right? is it alright if u dont post my response if its not anon? im sorry. thank you so much. ur blog always pictures great stucky imagines. 💗💗💗" Contains Spoilers for: N/A Word Count: 2,488

---

A given, the super-soldier had been on nonstop missions for the last month or so, but she thought she was helping him feel better, not making him feel worse.

“Would you like anything to eat, Stevie? You’ve barely moved all day.” (Y/N)’s voice is small. Quiet.

She’s leaning through the door of his study where he’s sat putting together his mission reports from the last three or four missions he’s been out on.

He shakes his head but doesn’t even turn to look at her.

Sighing, the woman walks further into the room where her boyfriend is slouched over the desk.

“You gotta take a break, Stevie.” She whispers, resting her hands on his shoulders.

She notices the way they tense up, but he still remains silent.

His fingers continue to write up his report on the laptop.

“I’m worried about you, Stevie; talk to me.”

“I’m busy, (Y/N).”

“I know you are, baby, but you’ve gotta look after yourself too.” She attempts, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek. He pulls away.

The woman furrows her brows.

“Steve, please, you’ve got to-”

“(Y/N), just stop!”

The shout is sudden and it makes her flinch back away from the man as he turns to face her.

“I’m fine, alright?! I don’t need you babying me all the time!”

She doesn’t respond for a second, surprised at her lover’s outburst.

He says nothing more, simply turns back to the laptop and continues typing away.

“Steve, look how stressed you are. Can you please just-”

“STOP! Okay?! Just stop! Leave me the fuck alone while I finish these neverending mission reports. For once in your life can you just understand that not everything is about you?!”

(Y/N) swears that being shot in the heart wouldn’t hurt half as much as the words that just came out of the man’s mouth.

Her mouth opens and closes as if searching for the right words to say, but that hurt.

Is she really that bad? Is that the truth behind all of this? That she’s clingy? Thinks everything is about her? That was never her intention. (Y/N) is well aware of how important being an Avenger is. Hell, she is an Avenger, for Christ’s sakes.

She says nothing more and leaves the room.

She can’t even decide if she feels sad. No. She’s not sad, she’s not angry, she’s not… anything.

Numb.

Naturally, her feet lead her to their room. Steve’s room. They all basically share the super soldier’s abode since they all got together, but right now she doesn’t dare open the door.

Doing a full one-eighty spin, (Y/N) takes herself back to a place she barely touches anymore. Her room.

It’s pretty empty. Most of her clothes are in Steve’s room, in her own walk-in wardrobe. Her bed is perfectly made from the last time she slept in here - maybe a year ago?

The woman walks around her bed and straight onto her bedroom balcony, overlooking the lake at the back of the compound, and stays there. For three-hours. Until Bucky comes looking for her.

He came home from his mission about thirty-minutes ago only to find their shared room of Steve’s empty. He searched just about everywhere, completely clueless.

“FRIDAY, where’s (Y/N) and Steve?” He finally gives in.

“Captain Rogers is in study five, and Agent (L/N) is in her private quarters.”

Now that makes the brunet furrow his brows.

Why would (Y/N) be in her room and not his or Steve’s?

He prioritises finding (Y/N) first, knowing Steve will be writing up mission reports, no doubt.

Despite them being together for over six-years now, he hesitates when reaching for the handle of her bedroom door. Instead, the man opts to knock.

No answer.

“(Y/N)?” Nothing. “Doll, it’s me; can I come in?” Nothing.

Bucky tries the door handle and finds it unlocked, yet still hesitates.

“Baby?” He calls out. Again, nothing.

He’s cautious now. Scared.

Her room looks as untouched as the last time he saw it, which was a few months back when she was after one of her plushies.

“(Y/N)?”

It’s when he feels the chill of the midnight winds ruffle his hair that he realises her balcony doors aren’t fully closed.

Striding straight over, his eyes widen at the sight of his girlfriend curled up in the corner of the outdoor area, crying.

“(Y/N), baby, hey, what’s wrong?!”

Bucky immediately drops to his knees in front of the woman, reaching for her hands and gently tugging them away from her tear-stained face.

“(Y/N), doll, look at me.” His voice is gentle. Soothing.

She does almost instantly but her sadness stays.

“What happened, baby? Are you hurt?”

The fear and sincerity in his voice is enough to prompt the woman to shake her head. Yes, she’s hurting emotionally, but he needs confirmation that she’s not dying.

The woman immediately sees the relief take over his features, but he’s still concerned.

“What’s wrong, doll?”

Her eyes stray away from his, not wanting to tell him what’s got her so upset.

“Hey, no, look at me, baby,” He whispers, hand lightly grasping at her chin to raise her face back up to his. “What’s got you so worked up, (Y/N)?”

Another shake of her head as she tries to escape her lover’s hold.

“Baby, please, you’re scaring me.”

Her face contorts into something close to heartbreak as she wants nothing more than to reassure the man in front of her.

“It’s okay, Buck.”

“It’s not okay! Doll, I haven’t seen you cry since Stevie nearly died on that mission in Ohio like two-years-ago! Talk to me.”

She takes a deep breath and wipes her face of the shedding tears.

“Do you want me to get Stevie?”

The question is innocent and makes sense, but her eyes widen and she shakes her head desperately.

“No! No, please, no.”

That truly makes the super soldier concerned.

“Doll, please can you tell me what’s happened?”

Never in the last eight-years that Bucky and (Y/N) have known each other has she been so reluctant to see Steve.

Another sob escapes her and it’s breaking his heart.

“Baby, please.”

“Steve got mad at me, alright?!” She manages an attempted shout. “I just wanted him to look after himself.”

“What happened? What did Steve do?”

He’s concerned. Massively.

“I was trying to get him to eat; he hasn’t eaten properly in so long. He’s so overworked and he’s hung up on all these mission reports. He told me that not everything was about me - shouted at me; told me to stop.” She’s whimpering and sniffling again now. “Please get him to eat something, James.”

That last sentence is the one that crushes him. She’s upset, yeah, but above all that, she’s still worried about the blond super soldier.

“Come on, baby, let’s go to our room and get into bed, yeah? I’ll go and speak to Stevie.”

Her eyes meet his and she looks scared, but the ocean blue gaze that he returns makes her bound to his every command.

The woman nods.

“Okay.”

“That’s my girl.”

With the help of the Winter Soldier, (Y/N) manages to stand up, letting him lead her out of her private room and into their shared one of Steve’s.

“Here, let’s get you into your PJs, yeah?”

He doesn’t leave room for negotiation as he helps his girlfriend strip out of her casual dress and into one of his oversized t-shirts.

“You get snuggled up in bed, doll. I’m going to go and get Stevie, okay?”

He hates how she looks nervous at the mention of their other lover’s name.

“He loves you more than words can describe, baby girl, I promise you. He shouldn’t have lashed out at you, I’m gonna talk to him, okay?”

A hesitant nod and forced smile is enough for now.

“I’ll be back shortly, I promise.” He leans over and gives the woman a kiss on the lips, leaving her with one of her favourite shows playing on the TV.

“Bucky,” Her choked up voice calls out just before he leaves.

The man turns from his place in the doorway.

“I love you.”

The smile that takes over his expression is contagious.

“I love you too, baby girl. More than anything.”

Despite his reassurance to the woman, he’s pretty damn pissed for a number of reasons about Steve losing his cool with their girl. Reason number one being, how dare he? Reason number two being, he knows better than to overwork, yet here we are.

Bucky doesn’t even knock once he approaches the glass doors of the study where Steve is sat typing away on the laptop.

The blond doesn’t even glance up to see who entered. He barely heard the door open which enrages Bucky further.

The brunet slams the lid of the laptop shut without saying a word, prompting Steve’s head to shoot up, glaring daggers at whoever has interrupted him.

“What the fuck, James?!”

That makes Bucky really get annoyed.

“Are you serious right now, Rogers?”

“I’m in the middle of about seven different mission reports, Buck, I’ve gotta finish them.” The man sighs, going to open the lid of the PC once more, only for Bucky to hold it down. “James, seriously,”

“No. What you need to do is explain to me why our girlfriend has been crying for the last God-knows how many hours?”

That makes Steve snap back to reality.

“What? (Y/N) has been crying? Is she okay?”

Bucky literally rolls his eyes at that.

“Are you fucking serious, Steve?” He repeats, Steve looking confused, expression contorting as he realises that his boyfriend is seriously angry at him.

“Bucky, what’s wrong? What’s happened?”

The Winter Soldier’s head lolls back as he groans in frustration.

“You seriously have no idea?” He asks, rhetorically, watching Steve look almost scared. “Do you often shout at your girlfriend and forget it happened?”

Cap’s eyes widen at that, and he visibly gulps.

“What?”

“She came in here to make sure you were looking after yourself, which you weren’t, by the way, and you tell her that not everything is about her?! Are you fucking stupid, Steve?!”

He remembers it all too well in that moment, turning his head down to avoid the frustrated glare of his male lover.

“No. No, you don’t get to look away from me. Look at me.” Bucky demands, watching the blond super soldier reluctantly do so. “I come home from my own exhausting mission, search for (Y/N) for thirty-minutes, and find her crying her God-damn heart out on the balcony of HER room; not our room, Steve, no. Her room.”

Steve’s heart shatters and his eyes widen once more.

(Y/N) hates staying in her room. She’d always be in his or Bucky’s without a doubt.

“I- Buck-”

Bucky shakes his head and stands back upright as Steve is lost for words.

“I’m not mad at you, Steve. I get it, you know? You’ve been overworking for the last month, I know you’re stressed, but fuck, baby, you can’t hurt her like that. Do you know how much my heart fucking shattered when I saw her curled up in the corner of her own God-damn balcony?! It tore me apart. She hasn’t cried since you nearly fuckin-” Bucky chokes on his own word as he walks away from his lover.

“I’m sorry! Buck, I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have let Fury send me on that many missions, I- I should’ve said no. I’m sorry.” Steve attempts, standing up and following the brunet, turning him around to face him once more.

“It’s not me you need to be apologising to, Stevie.”

Captain America nods and leans up to press a kiss to the man’s lips.

“I’m sorry, James.”

Bucky takes a deep breath and forces a smile.

“I forgive you. Of course I forgive you, I know you didn’t mean it, but I swear to God, if you hurt her again…”

Steve is already shaking his head.

“I wouldn’t dream of either of you getting hurt. Where is she?”

“Our room.”

He nods and begins heading toward the woman to which he owes more than he can give.

The door is half ajar when Steve gets there, he slowly opens it to reveal his girlfriend in all her glory, curled up under their Captain America themed duvet - which Sam bought the trio as a joke last Christmas. Her face is clear-as-day red from her earlier upset, and it breaks his heart.

The man knocks gently on the day as if not to startle the poor girl.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He offers a solemn smile when she turns to see who’s there.

He hates the way he can see her hesitation to speak to him as opposed to her usual squeal of his name, arms opening wide to welcome him into her cuddle-fest.

“Hi.” She manages, forcing her own smile.

There’s silence floating between them, the only sound being Jensen Ackles, in his role of Dean Winchester, talking a load of nonsense about pie on the TV that’s streaming Supernatural.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” Steve manages, taking a step toward the bed. “Nothing can excuse the way I yelled at you, and I’m so sorry for that, but, sweetheart, trust me when I say I didn’t mean it. I was so stupidly stressed, and I should never have let it get to that point.”

She nods, truly believing his words, but it still hurt.

The blond sits down on the edge of the bed, not daring to cuddle his girlfriend until she’s comfortable.

“I love you so much, (Y/N) (L/N).”

A bigger smile taints her lips at that.

“I love you too, Steven.” Her voice is barely a whisper but he hears it clear as day.

“Can I hold you?”

(Y/N) smiles and shakes her head as if he was being silly.

“You never need to ask permission for that, Stevie. No matter what.”

With another sad smile, he pulls the woman into his arms and holds her tighter than ever before.

“I’m so sorry, my love.”

“I forgive you, but no more missions for a while.” She whispers.

“Yes, boss.”

Bucky’s leaning against the doorframe, watching the interaction. He took a detour to Tony’s office and made sure to give the billionaire a piece of his mind about making sure Fury didn’t have Steve on any missions for a long time.

“Is this the last episode?” The brunet speaks up, stripping himself of his clothes as he enters their room properly.

“Yeah.” (Y/N) nods.

“I still think we should watch Vampire Diaries instead.” Steve chuckles, mirroring Bucky’s actions.

“I pick the TV show, Rogers shuts his cake-hole.” (Y/N) teases, mocking a line from Supernatural and snuggling herself in the middle of the bed, sandwiched between the two super soldiers - where she belongs. “I love you both.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

“Love you always, doll.”

TAGS

Everything Tag List: @nosoulnoproblems | @rileyloves5  | @girl-who-loves-mythology | @avngrsinitiative | @lookinsidemyhead |@xbabykookiix | @myspectacularfantasies | @fanfic-anyone | @rororo06 | @queenofbuskers | @vapingisntmything | @tony-stank3 | @hermione-grangers-wife | @lili-ann-love | @the-omni-princess | @tayahs-blog | @regulus-black | @saturnsteverogers| @fyfiexo | @amazingiam00 | @deviltownn | @buckybarneses | @fafulous | roryshitposts | trynnabemultifandom | @moodboreddd | @hopingforbarnes | @an-adventureland | justassaneasiam-ll | @profoundllamanickeleggs | @xbongox | @minetticatinwonderland | @thinkaboutmara | @xxaestheticboyxx | @sparklycollectionofoldmemes | @wandaneedstherapy | @georgiadixon | @nerdy-thespian-10 | @nsb-supertrio | @thinkaboutmara | @captainamerica-is-bae | @spookyparadisesheep | @supernaturallover2002 | @notsochillnerd | @peggycarter-steverogers | @reann-shitposting | @buckybarnesplumwhore | @mrsstevenbuchananstark | @ynscrazylife | @jessromanoff | @holsj2411 |

Stucky x Reader Only Tag List: polarbearnamedpanda | @marvelous-glims

SFW Only Tag List: @piper-koko-barnes-rogers

[allhailthewicked]

Random JATP Headcannon: The Wilson’s and Street Food

Do you ever think about how after the boy’s death Bobby was probably extremely weary of all take-out, street food, and basically all food that he can’t see how it is prepared? Because I do! SO I decided to write a headcannon about it.

I mean my man watched his three brothers die a horribly painful death because they wanted to have a quick bite to eat. Don’t think about how he was probably the person who found them dying from food poisoning, in excruciating pain probably scared out of their goddamn minds. Don’t think about him clutching their bodies sobbing. Don’t think about how Bobby 100% most definitely didn’t eat anything for the next few days after the guys’ death. Don’t think about how he was probably too scared to trust any foods that he doesn’t make himself. But honestly, he is terrible at cooking that was Reggie’s and Alex’s jobs. I mean he can make a couple of Filipino recipes that his Lola taught him how to make like halo-halo, adobo, liempo sinigang rice.

Then eventually, he started to eat again, well not exactly, I mean Dr. Crystal seemed hopeful. But like he would go to restaurants with like multiple EFFING Michelin Stars and like refuse the food because he’s so scared that he might choke, or get food poisoning and die like the others. Like he low-key throws a tantrum because he is freaking and upsets the chef, but can you blame him?

Without any contexts the public and gossip magazines were like:

 “woah I know he’s a rock star but what a spoiled brat”

“TREVOR WILSON: A FOOD SNOB?!?!”

 “I Can’t Believe (It’s Not Butter sorry back to the headcannon lol) That This Rising Star Threw His Soup at the Chef a Michelin Star Restaurant”

(It was completely by accident btw!!! The matching friendship ring with the guys fell in the soup and he didn’t want to lose another part of his friends. So he started to rush to the bathroom with the soup to find the ring and fix it. .....and the chef just happened to be right behind.....and the gazpacho just happened to spill all over him. But he did get the ring so..... that’s good!!! But he also cried a bunch washing the tomato off of it tho)

Rose started to swing by his house every couple of days with bags full of ingredients and she checks in with him as she is making classic Puerto Rican comfort foods. She quickly realized that his vegetarianism wasn’t a lie and adjusted the recipes that she grew up with to suit his needs. Rose also realizes that if Bobby doesn’t know how a certain food is made and if he can’t see all the ingredients that went into it then he would refuse to eat it. So she fell into a pattern where she would cook at his mansion as he looks over her shoulder seeing how she make the dishes, sadly laughing at the terrible dad jokes she makes. (The jokes remind him of the one Reggie use to make)

Rose “The Queen of Meal Prepping Before Meal Prepping was Popular” makes enough food the next couple of days. Together they would sit down together to enjoy a meal. Rose just tells him it was to  make sure that she made the recipe correctly. But really it was to ease his anxiety about eating and to prove that the food isn’t poison. However, deep down it was to also show him that it is okay to make new friends and the boys probably would have wanted him to at least try to move on a little. Quickly Rose discovered that his favorite dishes are arroz con gandules (basically white rice with peas and olives), mofongo (think like mashed potatoes but with plantains), and some many pasteles and empanadas. And even after Julie and Carrie were born they have family dinners once per week that Rose cooked.

Well I mean until her chemo started of course because that when the roles started to reverse..... (but I’ve given y’all enough angst today, so that’s a story for another time)

I mean at some point he probably had to learn how to cook for himself and Carrie or at the very least he goes to a restaurant that personally shows him how the food is prepared/ he can see most of the steps on how it is prepared. Like one time The number of professional chefs my manz personally knows is ridiculous!!! I mean once he became FILTHY LIKE DIRTY LIKE I WOULD EAT HIM rich he definitely got a personal chef to either meal prep or cooks meals for both him and Carrie.

Bobby had one of the worst anxiety attacks of his life (I mean other than when he found out the guys died) when Carrie was 7. She went to Flynn’s birthday party at an arcade and found out that she ate cheese pizza and hot dogs (I mean Lukie, Lexington, and Reg died from street glizzies for fuck’s sake). Sobbing he called Rose freaking out as he drove Carrie (who was blissfully ignorant singing along to the Kidz Bop CD she got from the party favor) to the ER. “Rose I can’t lose another person who I love” Rose right before she had to perform at a gig she convinced him to turn around and go back home.

This is @iamthefryiestfrench-blog genius idea and I love it so, so much but Carrie and Bobby definitely started to cook dinner together like a couple times a week as Father-Daughter bonding time. Well until Carrie started to get super busy with Dirty Candy and before Trevor started touring again at that point they started to drift away. Fights started to happen more frequently. Carrie started to get more and more take-out to spite Trevor, but she didn’t realize that Trevor stopped eating again. A major fight erupted after Trevor passed out from hunger a couple of weeks after the Orphuem concert.

 “Carrie sweetie it is NOT DRUGS”

“Then why did I walk in to you knocked out on the floor” 

“I just hadn’t had time to eat today mahal”

“Dad do not lie to me! I cannot lose another person who I love. I can’t Dad. I’m going to call Dr. Crystal!!!”

And that was when the truth was revealed...

Carrie’s channel is slowly started to be sponsored by hello fresh, cookunity, or blue apron every single week without fail. Both of them wouldn’t admit it, but this was her offering the olive branch and Trevor took it IMMEDIATELY. (He missed cooking with his little girl). And in the sponsorship ad you would see Trevor cooking a meal with his hair in little pigtails with pink scrunchies.

Of course, they get the vegetarian meals and if you use here promo code “DIRTYCANDI10” then you can get up to 10 meals for free!!! So thank you so much Hello Fresh for sponsering today’s video!!!

It took almost 25 years but cooking with Carrie again made things feel almost alright again and that’s all Bobby could have asked for.

A/N: Hi! Thanks for reading this it was really fun to write :) (because I love to write pain lmao) But please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist down below by either replying to this post, reblogging this post, or sending me an ask! I would appreciate reblogs and feedback because I love reading your guy's comments and tags they seriously make my day but it's fine if you don't want to :)!!!

~✨My Taglist is Under the Cut Lol✨~

@poppin-peters, @sunset-bobby, @theobligatedklutz, @soupforfree, @iamthefryiestfrench-blog

[nanasparadise]

Can you do (aged up of course), Yandere Narancia x reader. [p.s can it include any of these prompts? “ Stop denying our love! Stop denying our future together!! ”, “ Please don’t cry. Show me the smile I love so much! ”, “ You can’t escape my love.”,” You will grow to love me back, I just know it!“] Thx so much <3

“You can’t escape my love”

“You will grow back to love me, I just know it.”

Hiya anon! I hope you enjoy it! <3 

Summary: Your boyfriend doesn’t understand the concept of boundaries and keeps harassing you, until he stands in front of your apartment’s door...

TW: cyber harassment, implied stalking, gaslighting, mentions of a panic attack, toxic relationship, noncon touching, curse words, MATURE AUDIENCE ONLY/MINORS DNI

I do not condone any yandere behaviour in real life.

Narancia has been aged up, no minor content on my blog!

Word count: 2155

“No escape” Yan! Narancia x gender-neutral reader 

 Bling. Another one of… how many messages again? You have stopped counting a while ago. An exasperated sigh escapes your lips, wondering why you haven’t turned off the volume yet. Why is he so unrelenting? Annoyed, you take your phone in your hand, staring at the twenty-five texts Narancia has left for you. At first, they have started off innocently, asking you about your well-being and your day. But as time has passed, the messages have begun becoming more invasive and have ended up being straight-up creepy. 

“Why aren’t you answering me, did I do something wrong?” 

“Stop being so stubborn, I know you want to be with me, too!” 

“I’m always near you, you’re aware of that, right? You can’t escape my love.”

 An icy shudder travels down your spine while reading the last two sentences. Fear clenches around your heart, making your chest feel heavy, your breaths short and laboured. 

“’’Try out this dating app!’ they said, ‘It will be fun!’ I see where this fun has lead me to”, you think gloomily. Why on earth did you ever sign up to that damned app and had to match with Narancia? You curse yourself, curse your naivety for having expected to encounter there a nice and healthy relationship.

The only thing that has waited for you is an obsessive stalker you can’t get rid of. Of course you didn’t realise Narancia’s disturbing nature at the beginning. No, you thought of him as sweet and energetic, although a bit tiring. Your first dates were pleasant: you went to a fair, sharing candyfloss and laughter between you, to a restaurant, where the Italian nearly choked on his pasta out of excitement, to a spring picnic at the local park, bathing in the gentle sunlight. It all seemed so beautiful to you back then, so innocent. But quickly, things have changed. 

Narancia has become increasingly clingy to you until it started feeling as if he was glued onto your hip. Oh, you want to go grocery shopping? He’ll come with you and help you carry your bags! You’re planning on visiting your family on the weekend? He’ll join you, he has been dying to meet them anyway! 

Setting boundaries with him was extremely challenging. Every time you hinted that you’d rather like to spend some time alone, he nearly threw a fit, taking your words out of context and twisting them around. 

“So you want to toss me away? You don’t think I’m important to you?”, he shouted at you, tears of anger forming in his eyes. Back then, you didn’t notice his gaslighting methods, felt guilty for prioritising yourself. But now, you don’t want to hold yourself back anymore. There isn’t any reason for you to justify yourself, especially not to someone who clearly has no right to intervene in your life like this. Your gaze travels back to your phone. All these messages, these implications, are proof enough of his unhealthy attachment to you. Hell, he even admitted following you! No matter how much you enjoyed your time together, you can’t let Narancia continue with his creepy behaviour.

Quickly, you type a text, telling the Italian that if he goes on invading your privacy, you’ll block him. For a few minutes, sweet silence dominates your living room. 

“Maybe he finally got it”, you muse hopefully. 

Bling. There goes your hope. 

“Are you messing with me? Why would you write that?! Please, stop with these jokes, we can talk about this!” Another sigh comes out of your mouth. 

“No Narancia, we actually can’t. That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to tell the whole time, but it seems you don’t understand. I’m sorry, but I’m gonna block you for now, otherwise I’ll go insane.” 

With these final words, you block his number. Relief washes over you as you realise that the Italian can’t harass you anymore. 

“It‘s kind of sad how things have turned out”, you mumble to yourself. Though you do feel some regret – after all, the two of you had shared many beautiful moments together – you abruptly stop your pondering. “No use to cry over spoiled milk, Y/N. If he keeps treating you like this, it’s best to get away from him.”

Little did you know that Narancia isn’t letting you go that easily. The following days, he kept reaching out to you towards multiple phone numbers. Every time you blocked it, a new one popped up. At this point, you’ve simply stopped using your phone altogether, only relying on the device if it’s inevitable. In those cases, you’re helplessly exposed to the unnerving messages of the young man. The latest one keeps haunting your mind, initiating your anxiety. 

“I’ve been really patient with you, Y/N, but this little game is making me lose my temper. I’ll be seeing you tonight and then we settle things straight. You will grow back to love me, we’ll make up again, I just know it.” 

Nervously, you eye the nearest clock in your flat. 8 p.m. What does Narancia consider ‘tonight’? Will he even come? Are you able to face him right now? 

“Oh god, I need to go”, you whisper desperately, nausea manifesting itself in your stomach. You could crash at your friend’s place, you’re sure they’d understand your situation. Quickly, you gather all your important belongings, ready to flee, as a loud knocking on your front door followed by an all too familiar voice interrupts your escape. 

“Hey Y/N, could you open the door for me, please?”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You mutter an incoherent string of curses. Petrified, you just keep staring at the door, not daring move a single muscle in your body. 

“If you don’t open the door yourself, I’ll just break it in, you know?”, Narancia shouts on the other side. The casualness of his tone scares you even more. 

“How can he just be so blasé by his behaviour? Doesn’t he notice how wrong his actions are?” Actually fearing the Italian might damage your property, you accept your defeat and slowly walk up to the front door. Hesitantly, with shaking hands, you unlock it and pull the handle down. Nervousness creeps up on you, making your palms grow sweaty and your heart palpitating erratically. Soon – too soon for your liking – you meet a pair of familiar purple eyes. To your surprise, Narancia smiles upon seeing your face. 

“Hi babe,” he greets you, carefree, “I’m so glad you opened the door for me! You have no clue how much I’ve missed you!” Without even waiting for you to invite him in – which you definitely wouldn’t have done – the young man marches into your flat, invading your privacy even further. Suddenly, two arms wrap around your middle and pull you close to the young man’s chest. Your breathing falters at the abrupt touch. “It’s alright, it’s only me, Y/N”, Narancia tries to comfort you. If only he knew that his presence currently gives you anything but comfort…

A few moments later, you find yourself sitting on your couch next to him. Narancia flashes you a seemingly reassuring grin all while you keep fiddling with the sleeves your shirt. You blankly stare at the floor in front of you. Even though Narancia’s behaviour is conveying sympathy, you couldn’t get rid of the intuitive feeling that this is all but a façade to lull you into a false sense of security. Who knows what he could do to you? Despite his overall sweet and fun nature, the young man doesn’t shy away from using violence if you test his – admittedly little – patience. His numerous messages flash up in your mind again. You’re painfully aware now how he made it clear that you’ve clearly missed your opportunities of being in his good graces. This realisation pushes you nearly over the edge, being on the brink of a panic attack. Would Narancia really hurt you? 

“Look Y/N,” the sound of his voice interrupts your train of thought. A little startled, you immediately straighten your back and glance at his form next to you. The young man’s hand finds its way to yours, stopping your fumbling by securely grasping it. “I didn’t mean to frighten you, but what’s wrong? Why did you just ignore me like that?”, Narancia asks you. You don’t miss the hint of annoyance in his voice, indicating his true feelings. Though anxiety still has a hold on you, you try your best to fight against it and tell him the truth. After all, it’s not like you could escape this situation anyway. So you take a deep breath in and out again, before you spill your following words. 

“Well, I know you’re more of a clingy person Narancia, but what you’re doing is unhealthy. You can’t expect me to give you my full attention all the time. And you definitely can’t follow me around! It’s just creepy and wrong. You know that’s considered stalking, right?”

The Italian stares back at you incredulously. You wonder what’s going on in his head right now. 

“You gave me no other choice, Y/N! How am I supposed to see if you’re doing alright if you deny me like this? You really think me worrying about you makes me some deranged criminal?”, Narancia barks angrily back at you. The grip on your hand tightens. Listening to your previous gut feeling, you immediately retrieve your hand from his all while scooting away from him to gain more space between you. The dark-haired man’s jaw visibly clenches at your action, disapproval glistening in his eyes. Of course he would use his gaslighting tactics on you, he always does when things don’t go his way. Cautiously, you think for a while of what to say, not wanting to trigger Narancia’s wrath any further. 

“It’s not the fact you worry about me, it’s the way you choose to show your concern. Narancia, it’s not okay what you’re doing, you’re actually making me feel very uncomfortable, even right now. Plus, you’re blaming me for your behaviour, which is, again, not acceptable”, You carefully reply, hoping to talk some sense into him.

He makes you uncomfortable? Narancia can’t comprehend your words at all. He’d been worrying himself sick the last few days, trying to reach out to you as best as possible while you cruelly kept on ignoring his countless messages. But he is supposed to be the bad guy now? The Italian scoffs intensely at that thought. He can feel the anger gnawing at his guts, ready to be released. 

“You’re being ridiculous, Y/N,” Narancia reprimands you, “can’t I show you anymore that I care? That I love you? Even after you’ve blocked and ignored me? What do you expect me to do now, to just let you go?” 

“Actually, I do,” you peep quietly, “I can’t continue with this madness. If you don’t want to understand and listen to me, then it’s best for you to go. Now.” Your voice grows stronger with every word you utter, finally regaining your confidence. Meanwhile, Narancia’s heart sinks to his stomach at your statement. Do you really want to leave him? 

“No, no no no Y/N, you don’t mean this, right? You wanna stay with me, don’t you?” 

“No, I really don’t think I do, not after you’ve shown me your true colours.” 

With a force you don’t expect, Narancia pulls you suddenly against his chest again. His arms cage you in, leaving no room for you to move at all. 

“This is just a misunderstanding,” the young man keeps repeating like a mantra while tightening his grasp as if you could dissipate into thin air if he didn’t cling onto you, “It’s normal for couples to fight from time to time, it’s fine. We’re fine, right? You wouldn’t abandon me for real, would you?” 

“Narancia, I –“ you try to intervene, but your attempts remain futile as he cuts you off quickly. 

“No, you’re not going to leave me! I’m not letting you. Look, this is but a silly fight, you’re not going to toss away our relationship for that, are you? Just remember all the beautiful moments we shared together, how happy I can make you, if you just let me!” Narancia nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck. “I love you, Y/N.” He eagerly plants kisses onto your skin, making you shudder and whimper helplessly. Your eyes grow bigger, your breath quickens as you desperately look for a way to escape this situation, to escape him. 

“I love you more than anything in this world. I’d gladly give up everything if it meant to spend every second with you by my side. No one can love you like this but me. Remember that next time you’re thinking I’m going to let you off the hook”, Narancia whispers in your ear, the underlying threat being crystal clear to you. No, you aren’t going to escape from him any time soon…

[9tzuyu]

my guitar is slightly out of tune, but i’m eternally yours.

[reuploaded and revised from my old blog.]

↠ prompt: you have a terminal illness but you have a chance with treatment but you deny it, then you meet wanda and you feel alive again.

↠ warnings: kinda angsty, but worth the read :>.

requests are always open!

masterlist

∘∴∙*⋆∙∴⋆∘∙*. ∘

“Oh–” was all you managed to say. “I recommend we start radiation treatments-” You zoned out and watched your feet dangle from the edge of the exam table. Was this it? Was this really all there was for you? It seemed hopeless to even do anything at this point. You figured if this was affecting you again, it was for a reason. 

"No. I don't want treatment." The doctor looked at you and his gaze faltered. "You do understand that if you refuse treatment this will inevitably kill you?" You nodded. The words felt empty, they carried no weight behind them anymore. Nonetheless, the doctor continued to try and persuade you. 

"I said I don't want the treatment. I'm refusing medical advice. I don't want to have to go through this again, it's obviously not going away. Now where the hell do I sign the papers?" You exasperated. The doctor gave you one last look before getting the papers for you to embark your signature on.

“You’re one-hundred percent sure about this?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I've got nothin' left for me here anyways. Might as well just let nature take its course.”

"Well surely you've got someone, a friend maybe?" You shook your head.

 "Nope." You replied, popping the P at the end. The doctor seemed to finally grasp the situation when you handed the papers back to him as if you were turning in a job application.

He pursed his lips, "I'm going to give prescribe medication for the pain. Based on the size of the tumor I'd say you have about eight months to live, but only about half of those months will be enjoyable." You nodded your head in reply and gathered your stuff together. 

So how were you going to spend your last months on earth? That was the question you asked yourself. You walked out of the building and found yourself in a coffee shop. It was busy, but you found yourself a seat next to a window in the back of the shop. Your eyes gazed out the window as you pondered your question from earlier.

'I could move to New York and see broadway shows I've never wanted to see'

'There's always casinos–'

'–Or what about splurging your money on dumb things that you'll quite literally never need?'

You laughed at your thoughts. You made up your mind right there, you were going to live the rest of your life just the way it was. It’d be easier that way. You didn't have friends, no longer had parents, so it's not like anyone would really miss you really. All you had was your pet cat and your guitar. And truth be told, that's all you needed. 

Coffee.

"Hello?" You snapped out of your gaze to see a beautiful brunette standing in front of you. The second thing you noticed was her accent, you'd never heard it before. “I was wondering if this seat was taken?” She softly smiled at you. You returned the gesture and shook your head no. "The place is cram packed and you seemed trustworthy. I hope I'm not disturbing you or anything, you seemed to be pretty deep in thought." The young woman blushed a crimson color, "I'm sorry I probably seem weird or something, I'll go."

Normally you would have cared, but at this point in time you didn't mind the company. So, with the slightest bit of hesitation, you called out for her.

“Wait! It’s fine, don’t worry. I-I’m all alone.” The woman’s smile widened as she took a seat across from you. “Thanks. I'm Wanda, what's your name?”

"Y/N." 

"Y/N..." She flexed your name on her tongue, "That's a beautiful name."

"I'm stuck with it for life, so I sure hope it's at least a decent name." You narrowed your eyes at her as you joked. A giggle escaped the gap between her lips, causing a small flutter to emit in your stomach.

"So what do you do?" She asked, intrigued by your presence.

"Well I do a lot of things, I walk, I talk, I breathe-"

"Oh shut up! You know what I meant." Wanda’s eyes gleamed with friendliness and warmth. She seemed like the type you'd be friends with if you weren't dying. "Okay, okay, I play guitar and sing while my cat eats her food." Wanda's eyes lit up at the mention of a cat. 

"You have a cat? What's her name?" Her elbows were propped up on the table with her head resting in her hands, showing just how actually interested she was in you.

“Her name is Nala. You know, from The Lion King?”

Wanda’s brows furrowed together. She’d never seen The Lion King, much less heard of it.

Your jaw dropped at her confusion. “You mean to tell me you’ve never seen The Lion King?”

“I’m Sokovian, what do you expect?” 

“Ahh, I see. Well, do you at least have any pets?”

"My apartment doesn't allow pets."

"So? Sneak one in." You replied nonchalantly, crushing ice between your teeth. Wanda looked at you in shock. "No way! Knowing me I'd get my ass caught on the first day." You shrugged in reply and the conversation quickly went dead.

Wanda checked her phone, moving abruptly to get up from her seat. "I'm so sorry, I have to go now. I'll see you around, okay?"

“Sure.”

After another half hour of waiting on nothing and thinking about everything, you finally decided it was time to leave. A feeling of regret washed over you. The woman was kind, very friendly, something that you craved.

But you couldn’t allow yourself these things now, especially given the direction you were heading.

_____

Over the next few weeks you'd spent your time songwriting, journaling and a midst of other lonely, boring things. Sometimes you'd catch yourself thinking about the woman in the coffee shop, but you tended not to dwell too much on the past. 

You thought about your tumor and all the different ways it was growing inside you. It grossed you out more than anything, but you weren't afraid. At least not now you weren't. 

A heavy sigh slipped from your lips, and the sudden urge to go to the park overtook the need to do anything else. You’d never really visited the park in your area before, so you decided now was the time. 

The beige acoustic guitar rest heavily on your shoulders, similarly to the weight of the world. It was bitter, no taste of sweetness was left over in the aftermath.

Leaves crunched under your feet as you made your way into the park. The smell of pine and bark surrounded you, just as the pinch of cold air that struck your face. It was tranquil.

You marched your way over to a nearby tree secluded from everyone else. Setting your guitar down, you nested cozily against the wood. Your journal rest aside your hip as did the pen that exchanged your thoughts into words.

Humming quietly, your fingertips grazed the instrument’s delicate strings. Music filled the air around you, but it came to a quick stop nearly ten minutes after you’d begun.

"Hey, I know you. Y/N, right?" You heard a familiar accented voice behind you. You turned around to find Wand standing above you. "Uh yeah, that's me. What's up?" She sat down beside you, making you a little uncomfortable, but you figured you could deal with it for the sake of being nice. 

"Nothing. I just saw you and thought I’d say hi. What about you? I see you have your guitar."

“Just singing,” you mumbled quietly.

She smiled and pushed a strand of hair out of your face that was blown in from the wind. "You’re really pretty." You bit your lip and you could feel the heat rise to you face. "Thanks."

"Mhm. So last time I didn't get your number, maybe I will this time?" She asked (although her eyes were begging). You couldn’t help but feel something while she bit her lip, her doe eyes unintentionally focusing on your lips.

"I'll have to give you mine, I didn't bring my phone with me – don’t use it much." You replied. She handed her phone to you and you typed your number in.

"Do you not have family or friends you keep up with?" Her brow quirked in curiosity.

"Parents died, no siblings, and no friends. I don't have many people to worry about."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"It's fine, I don't mind." She looked down in her lap before asking another question. "What about a job? Do you work?" Wanda was definitely a curious one, but each question she asked carried you in a way you’d never felt before. It was refreshing to have someone interested in you, and not your disease. 

"Nope, when my parents died they left all their life savings to me. It's plenty enough for me to live on." Your fingers began lightly playing the chords of a song. It was often that you unknowingly played when you were scared or nervous. You'd only realize afterwards. 

"That's good�� not that your parents died, but you know, you have money and stuff. Even if it's– oh my god- " 

You cracked out a laugh, causing her to look at you in terror. Noticing this, you rest a hand on her shoulder. "Wanda, it's okay. You're fine, I know what you mean." She nodded shyly and looked up to the sky. 

"Hey, it's sunset! I love sunsets, I used to watch them all the time with my brother back in Sokovia." Her voice wavered at the end of her sentence, and you easily picked up on it.

"Something wrong?" You asked. She laid her head on your lap and you stiffened, but quickly relaxed. This is fine. This is okay. You set your guitar aside and began to play with her hair.

"I miss him. Pietro..." She paused for a second before continuing. "He died a couple of years ago from cancer." You felt your heart drop for the first time at the mention of the horrid disease that stripped you away from most of your life. "Oh." The word seemed to become your go-to for whenever you didn't know how to accept information you were given.

"He was the other half of me. We were twins, I felt like my whole world fell apart. After he died I moved out of my country and moved here. Since then I've made some good friends. You might like them." 

“I’m sorry about your brother. I’m sure he was wonderful, Wanda.” You whispered, bringing a piece of her hair to the end of a braid. “I'm happy you've made some friends." Wanda nodded and snuggled closer in your lap. "Maybe I can be your friend?" You gave it a thought. You weren't sure you could do that to her, not with your illness anyway. Guilt nawed at you already. She’d already lost someone so beloved and close to her from it, how awful you began to feel if you had to put her through that again.

"Y/N?"

You stared at her for a few moments before answering. "I don't know, maybe." She turned over to face you, but you avoided her gaze. "I'm going to figure you out you know." You stifled a laugh, "And you'll be sorry you ever did."

"Whatever."

____

Four months passed and you thought they would be empty, meaningless months, but with Wanda nuzzling her way into your life you began to feel alive for the first time. When she came around it was like a switch you couldn't turn off. 

Right now, you sat at your desk strumming your guitar while watching Nala play with a toy dinosaur you’d bought her just weeks ago. This life was good too, you thought. But it was lonely.

You weren't quite sure what Wanda meant to you yet, but you were slowly discovering that whatever the two of you had, blossomed into something more each second you spent together.

Popping a Vicodin in your mouth, your phone buzzed. It would be no one else but Wanda.

be there in a few, it's urgent. 

Panic set in your body as you worried for the safety of your friend. What could possibly be the matter? Normally Wanda talked about what was bothering her.

A knock at your door brought you out of your gaze and you stumbled to answer it. Wanda was distressed, her hair a mess and her eyes red.

“Whats wro-” You were cut off By Wanda smashing her lips onto yours. 

She pulled back in shock. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I-"

You shut her up by pushing her into the wall, door closing behind you. Her lips tasted of strawberry and her hands began to roam your body.

One thing led to another and you both ended up naked on your bed. How amazing it must be to wake up and know that you won’t be dead in the next few months.

"You're good. Almost too good. Where did you learn all that from having no friends?" She smirked at you. You gave her a smile and kissed her again. Your arms wrapped around her nude body and together you felt the utter bliss and excitement radiating from one another.

. . . . 

Three weeks later yoy began to shake. It was hardly noticeable, and it just so happened to occur when you were playing

It’s downhill from here and you know that.

"Can you fix it? Can you fix this?" You yelled at him, despite knowing it was all your fault. If you would've just taken the treatments you wouldn't be in this place. But back then your life had no real meaning, it was just you and your cat.

You hadn't planned on falling in love with someone. 

"There's nothing I can do now. Treatments won't work, it's too far gone. I'm surprised it took this long to start showing symptoms."

For the first time in years, you felt tears beginning to build in your eyes. "You don't understand, I love her and now I'm just going to leave her? This can't be happening, you have to do something!" You pleaded, but the doctor’s eyes were solemn, giving you the only reply you needed. 

You stormed out of the hospital and made your way to Wanda. Silence rang through your ears.

Tell her. You have to tell her.

It will be over.

Sobs wrecked your body as you fumbled with the keys to your shared apartment. The door opened to a sight you wanted to live forever.

There she was, perched on the couch while massaging Napa’s scruffy fur. She was content, happy, and here you were to ruin it.

"Y/N? Baby what's wrong?" She got up from her spot and rushed over to you, worry etched on her face. You clung onto her for more life than you had left. And god, You weren't scared before, but you sure as hell were now. 

"I have terminal cancer."

Wanda froze.

"That's not funny, Y/N. You know how I feel about this topic." Her glare was hasty, burning into your skin.

"I was diagnosed almost five months ago, please Wanda you have to believe me. I have tremors, don't you see?" You raised your hand up to show her, but she slapped it away. "You're making yourself do that, Y/N. Stop joking, or I'm leaving." She crossed her arms

"W-What?" Your chest tightened.

"I said stop joking."

"I'm not joking, Wanda!"

"I'm leaving," She huffed, snatching her jacket before slamming the door shut.

And it was true, she did leave. However, Wanda didn't leave for the reasons she gave you.

She loved you, but she couldn’t handle another loss like this.

. . . . 

During the next two months you experienced the most heartache you'd ever felt before. The combination of vomiting, body aches, and dizziness didn't help. If anything, it made it worse. You missed Wanda. Everything about her gave you a reason to live.

You were on your seventh month and the pain was unbearable. It hurt to reach out for a cup of water, your hands shook uncontrollably all while sending jolts of scorching pain throughout the entirety of your arm.

Undoubtedly, the hospital bed became your next best friend (although it was the worst one you’d ever had. But it somehow managed to weasel its way back in your life).

Wanda was nowhere to be seen, and if anything that only progressed your disease. The only thing that kept you sane was your guitar, and the fact that Nala was being taken care of by a sweet, old nurse (who sometimes snuck her in so you could see her).

It was about the small things now. 

More days passed and each one was getting worse. By now you just wanted to end it all on your own, but you were physically too weak to do that.

There was a knock on your door, but you ignored it thinking it was just another nurse. "Y/N?" The voice was soft, it felt like it'd been years since you last heard it. You turned your head slightly to see Wanda standing in the doorway. A weak smile formed on your face.

"Hey you." 

Wanda quickly dropped her things and ran to your side. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." She mumbled over and over again as you calmly stroked her hair.

"It's okay, you know it is." You whispered in her ear. She looked up at you and shook her head, "But it's not okay, I left you when you needed me the most." You stared at her adoringly and the tips of your fingers gently rubbed away the tears from her face. "But I'm still here, aren't I?" She laughed through her cries, "Yeah... you're still here."

Both of you knew you didn't have much time left, but you ignored that other than the fact that you made her promise to take care of Nala when you were gone. She held your hand and got you everything you needed.

And you love her so deeply for that.

One night you had the feeling that your time was coming soon, so you woke Wanda up from her sleep. "Sweetheart?" She stirred a little before finally sitting up. 

"Yeah?"

"Hand me my guitar?" She tilted her head, "But your shakes?" You ignored her and asked for it again. 

When she handed you your beloved guitar you took it with grace. "Come help me, I wanna play a song." She nodded and came to your side.

Your fingers struggled as they strummed the delicate strings on the instrument. You picked one of Wanda's favorite, and when you were done you spoke lightly.

"My guitar is slightly out of tune, but I'm eternally yours."

[incorrect-pokespe-quotes]

Let’s Talk About Norman

I’m going to start off by telling you all something you probably already know: Norman is abusive. I try not to use super strong language on this blog because calling someone abusive / toxic is a pretty big deal, but Norman is an abuser, full stop. Aside from the obvious physical violence though, there’s a lot of emotional trauma he causes Ruby through his actions— this post is mostly going to be talking about Norman’s emotional abuse and how it affects Ruby’s psyche and actions throughout the arc instead of just “oh he punched his son down some stairs” because I think it goes way deeper than that. With that out of the way, the rest of the post is below the cut!

PHYSICAL VIOLENCE

I can’t talk about Ruby and Norman without mentioning this— it’s the most clear cut evidence of his abuse on-panel. He punches his son down the stairs, engages in a high stakes fight with him, and puts him in mortal danger (which Ruby has to save himself from). What I’m concerned with isn’t the actual incidence of violence itself, but rather the emotional baggage that comes with it.

The interesting thing about the Big Fight scene to me is that Norman instigates the conflict. Norman lures Ruby into a “dark and scary building” in the rain and away from others, appears behind him, threatens him, and throws him against a wall. The only thing Ruby had done in that moment is ask his dad how / why he had found him— Norman was the instigator of violence. It is Ruby’s reaction to this immediately violent start that segues into the next Big Thing about their relationship.

ENVIRONMENT OF FEAR

It is obvious from the minute Norman appears on panel that he is intimidating. Multiple characters throughout the arc mention that they are scared of / intimidated by him, but none are more obvious than Ruby. In fact until we reach the scene at the Weather Institute, Norman hasn’t been shown in a positive light at all from Ruby’s perspective. Ruby continuously mentions fear about his father: he imagines his father grabbing him, looking angrily at him, and generally seems to be afraid of him. Ruby expresses worry and concern about the consequences of his father’s anger— and that’s ALL he thinks about. Ruby mentions explicitly that he has seen “Norman’s Dark Side” and tries to hide as soon as he appears. He even shivers at the mere mention of Norman. Ruby’s entire motivation is his fear of his dad, which is bad, obviously. 

Every thought about Norman that Ruby has up until the Weather Institute about Norman express fear and stress Norman’s emotional distance. Whether or not Ruby and Norman love each other is not of importance here, what is important is that Ruby has constant worry and anxiety about how Norman will react. His entire motivation at the beginning of the arc is centered around doing things behind Norman’s back and giving him definitive proof of Ruby’s accomplishments— Ruby is so nervous around Norman that he considers communicating to be a risk. This is typical abuse victim behavior and it continues through the arcs. Living under the constant threat of (often violent) punishment has taught Ruby that disagreements and communication in general are dangerous and can spiral into violence very, very quickly— he displays this same fear time and time again.

Quick Aside: As everyone here probably knows, the main conflict in the oras arc is centered around Ruby’s unwillingness to tell Sapphire what is going on for fear of how she will react. Ruby’s hiding of his memory of their confession in the Emerald arc is the same— Ruby refuses to communicate because he is afraid of how Sapphire will react. His main emotional flaw is the fact that he is driven by fear; Norman has shown him there are consequences to communication and Ruby carries this lesson throughout his entire life. He is a victim of abuse and this hampers his ability to communicate and be emotionally vulnerable. He is so caught up in the idea of consequences that he is more than willing to lie or omit the truth to avoid the consequences of talking to people about stressful topics. This is not to say that Ruby’s actions are excusable— he’s still a dick with communication issues, but whether or not Kusaka intended it, Norman’s abuse and its consequences define Ruby’s emotional arc.

ANGER ISSUES

I can’t really talk about the environment of fear that Norman created without talking about his anger issues. He crushes a phone, shoves people out of the way, knocks multiple Pokemon out at once, and otherwise acts aggressively in various situations throughout the arc without any real Reason. As if these hints weren’t enough, we actually get confirmation through Ruby’s mother that Norman “does this often”— and judging by Birch’s reaction, these displays of destructive anger aren’t normal in in-universe. Whether or not there is a violent / strict parenting style within the universe doesn’t matter, because Norman is shown to be uncharacteristically aggressive in comparison to other adults in the series. Judging by Ruby’s reaction at the Weather Institute, he implies that his type of violence towards him isn’t uncommon; he seems almost resigned to it.

To wrap up this section: Norman’s aggressiveness is atypical even in-universe, he is shown to be unable and unwilling to curb his violent anger, and this creates an environment of fear among his family that permanently impacts Ruby’s ability to communicate effectively with others.

PART 2

DISCLAIMER: This is where things get… dicey. Everything I’ve mentioned previously is rooted in the actual drawings and actions of the characters or overarching themes / problems. This next part however focuses on dialogue. It is almost impossible to truly understand the tone of each line without being a fluent Japanese speaker (which I am not) so instead I’m going to use Viz and CY to the best of my ability for this section. I’m not going to extrapolate this to Kusaka’s intentions, since without the original work that’s nearly impossible, but I can at least talk about the way these come off in English.

EMOTIONAL ABUSE

Admittedly, Viz is the worst about this. They constantly hype Norman up and excuse his behavior, outright censoring some of the physical and emotional abuse. Viz absolutely mangling the tone of RS, however, is a post for another time.

Because Norman actually speaks to Ruby at length a grand total of twice times in the RS arc, we can break down his actions into these two instances: the first is at the weather institute and the second is as he’s dying.

Rather than go based on overall theme, this scene is best done line by line (this is using the CY version due to limited censorship compared to Viz). 

Scene 1: Volume 17, Chapters 208-210

(Norman is dangling Ruby off the roof of a building by his collar. There are sharp rocks at the bottom)

Ruby: Re… release me…! Norman: Insolent brat!! Is that how you talk to your father?!

To start, Norman uses tone policing and deflection. He focuses on the fact that Ruby is “talking back” to him and making demands of his father, which doesn’t acknowledge Ruby’s request or the fact that Ruby is being dangling over the roof of a building. Also note that this is the first time the words are bolded and that they stay this way throughout the fight— Norman verbally escalates the fight. Norman is abusing his position of power over Ruby in order to excuse his actions and pass the blame back to his son.

Ruby: I don’t care how furious you are with me… I’m ready for it!

(Norman decks Ruby down a flight of stairs)

Norman: Why did you run away from home?!

Note once again that Norman is implied to start raising his voice first even when Ruby isn’t. There’s another deflection here: Norman changes the subject rather than actively respond to anything Ruby says.

Norman: Well? Say something! You’d better voice your complaints right now!!

(Ruby has a conversation with the Swimmer, who advises him to apologize to avoid his father’s rage and “just go home” which… fuck you Swimmer Jack. I’m skipping that part of the dialogue bc it isn’t that important).

(While Ruby is debating what to do, Norman’s Slaking lifts the stairs that Ruby is on and tries to fling him into next Tuesday).

Ruby is physically prevented from escaping by being dangled above Norman. I shouldn’t have to tell why physically preventing someone from leaving an argument is a bad thing.

(Ruby decides to fight Norman)

Note that Norman is physically and emotionally forcing Ruby into two possible options: Fight or be obedient. He is preventing Ruby from running and deflecting Ruby’s attempts to explain himself. He then shifts the blame to Ruby *again*, attacking Ruby and his pokemon with full force and implying it was Ruby who instigated the conflict in the first place.

Norman: … so you wish to fight me? … Iron Tail and Hyper Beam… I was the one who taught you those attacks. There’s nothing about your attacks and strategies I don’t know about. You’re just wasting your time! Give up!

Here, Norman does two things: he stresses Ruby’s dependence on him and his power over Ruby. It’s a typical “your success is dependent on me” and a “there is no option except obedience” rhetoric, and is likewise typical of abusers. Norman is stressing the things Norman has gifted to Ruby (battling knowledge) and using whatever he can to force Ruby to do what he wants— he’s exerting his control.

(Ruby turns the tide of the battle, so Norman likewise switches tactics by attacking Ruby himself and attempting to hit him with a staircase. Ruby falls down the stairs and is dangling over a pit of spikes when Norman stands on the edge, blocking Ruby’s only escape route).

Norman: Now will you come quietly? Stop being so stubborn

Not only is Norman forcing his son to choose between obedience and Literal Death, he also shifts the blame again. He excuses his own actions by claiming it is Ruby’s stubbornness that forced him into this position. He deflects the whole “putting my 11 year old in harm’s way” by claiming Ruby’s own resistance to Norman’s violence is the trigger for the violence itself. It doesn’t make sense, but it’s victim-blaming nonetheless and sadly, it works

(Flashback time: Norman admits he was going to give Ruby permission to participate in contests and gets emo about it. They fall, but Norman catches Ruby. This doesn’t matter though, because they both end up falling and Ruby uses his running shoes to save them both).

Ruby: (thinking) Ru- running shoes… my birthday present from dad… saved both… our lives

Ruby displays pretty typical abuse victim behavior here, focusing not on Norman’s 3 threats to literally kill him but instead on the One Good Thing Norman did. He doesn’t mention that it was Ruby himself who saved them both or that Norman was the one who put them in danger in the first place— he’s in total denial about the severity of everything that happened.

(At this point, Norman looms above Ruby with an angry expression and a raised pokeball. Bystanders panic because it appears that Norman is going to attack Ruby who, by the way, is unconscious on the ground, but Norman gets a surprise call from Winona and turns away after realizing that Winona can see him).

“I only stopped attacking my son when I realized people were watching”… alright fuck off then Norman

Norman: HEY!! Idiot son! You disobeyed your parents, then you ran away from home. I’ve had enough! Just do what you want! In return, you’d better accomplish your goals!! A man should complete what he has set out to do… … before he can return home!!

Hoo boy. Norman never apologizes, deflects all the blame onto Ruby, insults him twice, and then tries to save face with Winona and the people around him by giving Ruby permission to do contests— which he was apparently planning to do all along. He emphasizes the things Ruby did in response to Norman’s actions (Ruby ran away from home because he knew his dad would be unsupportive and gets violent during disagreements, so in essence Norman is to blame for backing him into a corner). Norman twists the narrative in order to make Ruby the instigator in every case, justifying Norman’s responses as reactions to Ruby’s problematic behavior

Swimmer Jack: Isn’t that a wonderful father? Ruby: Thank you… father.

Ok first of all Jack is a dumbass, so jot that down. Second of all, while it’s unintentional, Ruby is being gaslit to hell and back. It is only after Norman’s omission of all the abusive behavior and bystanders’ affirmation of Norman’s love that Ruby starts to think positively towards his father. The threat Ruby used to think was so large has been downplayed and outright denied by the people around him, so Ruby’s prior fear of Norman diminishes. Ruby’s fear of Norman and the violence Norman took against him is denied, downplayed, and ignored, so Ruby begins to doubt his own animosity towards his father. Thanks Swimmer Jack you unintentionally gaslit an 11 year old.

SCENE 2: (this one is much shorter, thank god)

(Norman, while he is dying, explains the whole deal with how he was ordered to search for Rayquaza yada yada. Throughout the exchange, Ruby gets increasingly upset).

Ruby: (thinking) barred from the test and forced to search for Rayquaza… It must be some kind of punishment! What could Dad have done to warrant such… why was he made responsible… ?!

Ruby: … … but… come to think of it, dad is not someone who makes mistakes easily… something’s not right!

Slight aside, Ruby has been so convinced of his father’s power by others that he is unwilling to even CONSIDER that his dad fucked up, which… wow!

Ruby: That day… Dad must have taken the rap for someone else… and… (flashbacks to Salamence Incident) that person… was….

Ruby: (out loud) … me?! That person who set Rayquaza free… was it me…?!

Norman: Yes.

And then he dies!

(Technically he says “oh I did all that out of love” (paraphrased) and then dies but it’s just a continuation of the previous thing).

Norman, before dying, does not say “I’m proud of you” or “I’m sorry for everything” or anything remotely comforting, instead he says “hey Ruby, you’re responsible for my death and all your childhood trauma alongside your friend’s. Peace.” (this is paraphrased).

Even on his actual deathbed, Norman places the blame on Ruby for Norman’s own actions. He makes Ruby feel guilty for Norman leaving, Norman hiding information from him, and Ruby’s tumultuous childhood.

CONCLUSION

None of this is to say that Norman doesn’t love Ruby or that Ruby doesn’t love him back— I’m fairly positive the two of them love each other dearly and want the best for each other. However, Norman is a child abuser who reacts violently, instigates violence, and then turns around and denies said violence. He creates a culture of fear among his family, gives Ruby some serious communication issues, and the narrative takes his side. Norman is a child abuser in canon and has a very VERY profound effect on Ruby which has emotional ramifications throughout Ruby’s entire character arc all the way until oras.

TLDR: Normans sucks man

[autxmnn27]

Between the Threads

A Jumin Han x Reader Story

The one in which he meets a girl and falls in love with her throughout a slow period of time.

TW: None! Just some good old fluff!

*This is an AU! Luciel and the MC are related due to being half siblings! I own none of these characters! All rights belong to Cheritz!*

Alright so welcome to my first post ever on this blog! I had the pleasure of working on the Reverse Big Bang for Mystic Messenger @mysme-rbb and I was paired up with the amazing @yeleleow ! Be sure to check out their artwork too! I’ll be releasing the second half later this evening, so be sure to stay tuned! Be sure to also check out the other amazing works under the rbb page too!

—

She wasn’t quite sure what her first impression of the new place she was supposed to be. Was she supposed to be amused at the fact that she somehow landed an amazing job? Or was she supposed to be scared that she somehow managed to make an enemy of the other servants around the palace? She sighs, as she feels her nerves catch up to her. Her palms were dripping sweat with each passing second. The red haired male stared at her curiously, a brow raised in slight amusement at her nervousness. “Look, you should loosen up a little bit. I know that the stories you’ve heard about the prince are somewhat intimidating but I promise he isn’t a bad guy, really.” He reassured, patting her shoulder in a comforting manner. “I know he isn’t as scary, but I’m nervous... What if I screw up the job big time? I mean, I don’t have the best track record with keeping a job. Especially not when they find out who he is...” Seven pushes his glasses higher on his face, glancing around as if someone was following them. “I promise you he’ll understand. Besides, I want to help my only step sis out as much as I can! Besides, I’ll have your back. In the name of Agent 707, and cats, you’ll have my blessing!” Her lips curl into a smile, as she tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. “If you sure say so, Luciel...”

—

The first encounter she had with the Prince was slightly unexpected. There she was, tending to one of the cats who she knew was named ‘the third’, when all of a sudden she felt a presence behind her. “Dear lord you startled me.” She says, looking behind her to meet the eyes of her perpetrator. “I apologize. I was only looking for Elizabeth the Third. I’ve heard that she’s taken a liking to you.” She smiles, feeling Elizabeth nudge between her legs. “She’s quite behaved. Not saying that I dislike the other cats, I just enjoy her company more.” “I’m glad to hear that. I’m Prince Jumin. Charmed to meet you.” He extended a hand to her, and she met his hand shake warmly. “I’m MC. Pleasure is all mine.” She was about to speak up but was cut off when she heard a loud shriek coming from the courtyard. “Seems like my brother’s gotten himself into trouble yet again. Excuse me while I help that boy out.” She looks at Jumin longingly, wanting to get to know him a little more, but she brushes off those thoughts as she makes her way to Seven.

—

She didn’t know that Jumin was also intrigued by her all of a sudden, unsure of what to call this newfound feeling starting deep inside him. “You seem to be distracted, Jumin. You think I should stop the portrait?” Jumin shakes his head, moving from the chair he’d been confined to for hours. “No, Jihyun. We need to keep going.” He says stubbornly, looking at the Cat tower from across the palace. Jihyun lets out an amused chuckle, cleaning up his portrait a little. “Well I don’t think we’ll do any good if you’re going to keep staring out the window like that. Besides, I think I’ve had enough of staring at the same couch for 5 hours anyways.” He says kindly.

“I think you’ve been dying to go see that girl all day. Tell me, what is it about her that draws you so closely?” Jihyun asks Jumin. Jumin looks surprised at the question, unsure how to answer it. What was he supposed to say? That he admired the way she got along with everyone? That she had a soul which he could describe like nothing he had seen before? He shakes his head, brushing out anything else Jihyun was trying to ask him. The truth of it all was that he was growing more curious on what it would be like if the two were together. “Maybe that’s it. Can you call her over for your session next week?” He asks Jihyun. “One week? I can do that. Though I’d say you need to work a little bit on your… skills.”

—

Jumin sat on the floor across the curious girl, who was laughing at his frustration. “Jumin, you shouldn’t hold him like that. I already told you, Patches has a certain position he prefers.” She says, scooping him out of his arms. Jumin felt some heat rise to his face at the short contact he got from her. “Hey, are you okay?” She asks, noticing the redness he suddenly seemed to have developed.

“I’m alright. I’m more concerned about Patches in your lap.” “Patches left my lap as soon as I picked him up. I was asking if you were going to ask me a question? You seemed to have been building up to it earlier but then got distracted by our friend.” MC inquired, inching closer to him. “I was wondering if you wanted to join me and my friend for a painting session? It’s all to hang out, I promise.” “Is it your friend Jihyun? I admit he seems interesting. Oh, but not in a weird way or anything! I uh, just remembered you mentioned he was a freelance painter.”

She rambled, finding herself becoming unsure with what was happening. She never felt unsure of herself, and she didn’t understand the tension that was getting more obvious between the two of them. Was it just her? Or was the space between them growing closer and closer. Time almost seemed to stop as she grew closer in his face, but sadly that’s not how the universe intended for them to interact. “Oh no, Charlie’s knocked the litter box down again..” She says, frantically getting up from her position.

As she walked over to try and help the cat, she didn’t notice the lingering frown Jumin had on for the rest of the time he was there. The only thing that was on Jumin’s mind was that he needed to get Charlie adopted, and fast.

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

Flesh & Blood | Part Six

Series Summary: A mysterious stranger with ties to your past shows up in your small village

Pairing: Count Dracula x reader

Word Count: 1670

Warnings: none? maybe slightly out of character Drac 

A/N: as always spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :) if you want to be added to the taglist let me know (please note I cant reply to comments using this blog)

Masterlist | Part Five

- - - - -

“Ughhhhhh” you let out a loud groan as your alarm blares through your room, waking you up before you're ready. You sit up and the pounding in your head reminds you of the amount of wine you consumed the night before, and the vampire you consumed it with. Slowly it all comes back to you. The candle lit picnic. The heart wrenching love story. The almost kiss.

Butterflies flutter around your insides as you relive the moment in your head. But they soon disappear when you remember how close you came to being Dracula’s kill of the night. 

The clock on the nightstand reminds you that you have somewhere to be. You quickly get ready for work, take some painkillers and head to the high street. 

“Morning love!” Maggie calls from the kitchen as you enter the bakery 

“Morning Mags” you say, not quite matching her cheerfulness 

“How was your evening?” She asks as she continues to knead the bread she’s making “did you get some sleep?”

“Not really no. I, uh… I kinda had a date” 

“What?!” She spins around to look at you, spilling flour in the process. She grins at you “who’s the lucky man?.. Or woman? No judgement here”

“Man” you giggle as you carefully consider whether to tell her the truth “well, actually… vampire” you say sheepishly and her face drops. 

“Y/N. Please tell me you're joking” 

You shake your head and she stares at you. 

“Do you understand how dangerous that was? He could have killed you!” 

“But he didn’t” you shrug, choosing not to admit he almost did “look, I know it was dangerous but I needed answers from him Mags. And it was actually a really nice night. We talked and laughed a lot, and he told me things that I don't think he would have told me if anyone else was there.”

“You're talking about him as if he isn’t a vampire. A murderer!”

“Maybe that’s not all he is! Maybe he’s more than that. I saw a different side to him last night.”

She watches you for a moment before coming to a realisation “oh my God, you're in love with him”

“No! No, I’m not in love with him”

“But you have feelings for him?” 

You look at her and take a deep breath before slowly nodding your head. Maggie closes her eyes and lets out a sigh.

“Oh Y/N. What am I going to do with you, eh?” She walks up to you and pulls you into a hug.

“Are you going to tell Zoe?” You ask quietly.

“Not if you don't want me to”

You let out a sigh of relief. 

“BUT you have to keep me in the loop. Okay? You tell me when and where you meet him, every time. And you let me know you're safe. Always.”

“I will, I promise. Thank you Maggie”

“I love you Y/N, I just want you to be happy”

The sound of the front door opening ends your conversation as Maggie goes to serve the first customer of the day. You take your phone out of your pocket and decide to quickly send Dracula a text.

“Can I see you? x”

— — — — 

Lying in bed that night you once again find yourself thinking about Dracula. Even though you’ve only known him a short amount of time, he has completely taken over your thoughts. You wonder if he thinks about you as much as you do about him. Clearly not since he hasn’t replied to your text today. You sigh as you roll over in bed and gasp as you see him lying next to you. Before you can say anything his hand is around your throat. You try to scream but no sound comes out. You try to fight, but your limbs disobey. You're completely at his mercy and he manoeuvres himself on top of you. 

“You left our little date so quickly last night, I thought I’d finish it now.” 

He grins revealing his glowing sharp fangs. With a growl he lowers his head to your neck and you shut your eyes tight as he sinks his teeth in.  

Your eyes shoot open as you sit upright in bed and bring your hand up to your neck. No bite marks. It was just a dream. You take deep steadying breaths as you reach over to turn on the bedside light.

“You know you really should lock your windows”

You turn your head and see Dracula outside.

“What are you doing?” You ask, climbing out of bed and walking over to the window “Van Helsing’s guard dogs will see you, why don't just you come-” 

“NO!” He stops you “Do not invite me in, it’s not safe. I thought the dream I just gave you would have taught you that”

“You did that?”

“I’m just dropping by to tell you how much I enjoyed talking with you last night, and to say that I am truly sorry about how it ended. After tonight you won’t have to worry about your safety anymore”

“I’m not worried”

“That’s the problem Y/N, you should be! I am a vampire, I have murdered innocent people. You should be terrified of me!”

“Zoe isn’t”

“Zoe has a reason, her blood is like poison to me”

“What?”

“She didn’t tell you? She’s dying, that’s why she isn’t afraid. I can’t drink from her without killing myself in the process. But you, Y/N the only thing stopping me from drinking your blood is my own self control and I cannot rely on that. You saw for yourself last night how quickly I can change, how easy it would have been for me to kill you”

“But you didn’t”

“But I could have! Either you don't understand the danger you're in when you're around me, or you just don't care. Maybe that’s why I’m so drawn to you, fascinated by you even. But I cannot allow you to risk your life any longer” 

“Surely that’s my choice to make”

“Not anymore. I’m leaving the village”

“No”

“I’m not here to debate! I’m here to apologise which now I have done I can say goodbye”

“No!” You reach out the window and grab his hand, taking him by surprise. “Stay! Please, I don't want you to go. Just come inside and-”

He quickly pulls his hand out of your grasp and looks at you with a slight hint of panic in his eyes which quickly turns to anger “I told you not to invite me in. How could you be so stupid?”

“Drac-”

“Goodbye Y/N”

“No! Dracula!” You call after him but he’s gone.

You grab your phone off the bedside table and call him, but it goes straight to voicemail. Maybe he just needs a couple of days and then he’ll come around. But what if that really was goodbye? 

You sink back down into bed and pull your duvet up around you, hugging yourself tightly for comfort as you eventually drift off into a restless sleep. 

— — — — 

Just over a week later you're awoken one morning by a frantic knocking at the front door. You step into you slippers and grab your dressing down, wrapping around yourself as you run down the stairs. You're surprised to see Zoe stood on the other side when you open the door with a young man you recognise from your first visit to the Harker Foundation. Zoe walks straight past you into your living room and the boy looks at you apologetically. 

“Uh, what’s going on?” You ask as you gesture for the boy to come in and close the door behind him. 

“Dracula” she drops a file on your dining table and looks at you expectantly. 

“What about him?” You reply nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders.

“Were you ever going to tell us he’s left the village?” 

“I presumed you’d know, and clearly you do otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Besides its not like he told me where he was going-”

“London.” Zoe cuts you off “We’ve traced him to London with the help of Jack”

“Hi, I’m Jack” The young man steps forward and waves awkwardly.

“Seem’s Dracula took a liking to Jack’s girlfriend-” 

“She wasn’t my- we were just friends” Jack stutters

“-to Jack’s friend.” Zoe corrects herself “So much so that he killed her”

“I’m so sorry” you offer to Jack and he gives you a small smile before you turn back to Zoe “But what has any of this got to do with me?”

“We need you to come with us to London and talk to Dracula. Convince him to come back to the village” 

“Why me?”

“He’ll listen to you”

“He wants nothing to do with me! He made that perfectly clear! He won’t even answer my texts, what makes you think he’ll listen to me?”

“He has a connection with you Y/N.” Zoe says, but her voice sounds different “just like he had a connection with your great great grandmother all those years ago. Why else would he spare the life of Sister Y/N? Why would he spare yours now? He feels something for you and it scares him. The man who cannot die is afraid to get close to anyone who can”

You think over her words for a moment, then you remember.

“Martha” you whisper to yourself. Zoe and Jack look at you confused “he had a wife, but she died. It makes sense now, why he is the way he is.”

You think again and take a deep breath, nodding your head.

“I’ll come with you. But I don't think it will change anything”

“Get dressed, we leave in half an hour”

Part Seven

Taglist:  @agent-smulder​ @angeli-fucking-cat​ @linakeroline​ @lemonscoffee​ @emmalee090​ @denyeverything1​ @clussysposts​ @a-dorky-book-keeper @kandomeresbitch 

[youare-mysonshine]

ocean eyes || justin foley

Summary: A cute, relaxing evening with you and Justin.

Requested: Yes

Can I request something super fluffy with Justin from 13rw? After that finale I’m still SAD so I don’t wanna think abt it at all lmaooo, it could maybe b like before the tapes? Jus something super fluffy n cutesy.

Pairing: Justin Foley x Reader

Warnings: cussing, underage drinking and drug use, mentions of abuse, pre-season 1, pre-tapes.

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: Hey guys, I do be back! Shocking, I know lmao i’m just as surprised. So I stopped writing for a while because I just kinda lost motivation. I lost motivation for writing for Oscar and OMB. But expanding my blog has been something that I’ve been wanting to do for a while now, I’ve just been a bit nervous. However, I said fuck it and have decided to write for other fandoms. With t h a t ending for 13 reasons why, I figured we could all use some Justin fluff. Baby boy deserved better. Anyways, this is my first time writing for somebody other than Oscar in a while and my first time writing in a while in general, i’m definitely rusty and lowkey nervous to be posting lmao I hope you guys enjoy this and I hope that this isn’t shitty. And if any of you wanna be tagged in any future work of mine, not just Oscar and OMB, let me know!

————

“Jesus Justy, you’re such a lightweight, aren’t you? Do I have to take care of your dumb ass all night?” You looked over at your boyfriend of a few months, cheeks pink, mouth pulled back into an amused grin.

“Shut the fuck up. I am not a lightweight. Besides, look who’s talking. Remember Bryce’s party a few weeks ago? We hadn’t even been there for like 2 hours and your pretty little ass was passed out on the couch.”

You and Justin walked up the narrow stairs that led into the attic, hand in hand. It had been his idea to buy some beer, to smoke some weed and you had been on board with the plan. You had snuck Justin into your room and the both of you had spent the better part of the afternoon drinking the nasty beer, beer provided by Bryce Walker, having chugging competitions to see who could drink the most and fastest. Now, you and the handsome high school athlete found yourselves making your way up to the attic that led to the roof.

“Oh shut up! I was not drunk! That was you.” You laughed, your bright eyes glimmering like two twinkling stars in the night sky. The two of you had worked your way into the attic, shimmied through the window and found yourselves on the roof of your house. You had chosen a comfortable, as comfortable as it could be for the roof, spot and took a seat, patting the spot beside you for Justin to sit down. The chocolate haired teenager did as instructed and sat beside you, your arms touching. He’d since abandoned his fashionable blue and white letterman jacket, the garment laying stagnant on your bed.

A warm evening consumed Evergreen County. The sky was full of vibrant colors such as orange, red and yellow which were slowly being rotted away into a sea of black. You could see the moon just barely beginning to peak out in the sky. It was beginning to look like a beautiful night. Warm and crisp and breezy. Quite frankly, you were a little tipsy. You and Justin. You weren’t stumbling or anything, but it was enough to leave you feeling free and good. You felt good.

Justin held the joint up to his lips and fished a lighter out from his pocket. He hovered the flame by the tip until it began to smolder nicely. He inhaled deeply, held it for a few seconds and then removed the joint from his move. Blue eyes as bright as the ocean on a sunny day watched the plumes of white smoke dissipate into thin air, dancing like ink in water until they simply vanished. He handed the joint over to you and then laid back against the roof, staring up at the sky.

“Mhm. Whatever helps you sleep better at night, babe.” Justin smoke, a peaceful smile on his face. The truth was; this was the most peaceful that he’d felt in quite a few days. Being away from home, being away from that toxic environment that sucked the life and energy out of him. He turned his head to look at you; you had followed his lead and laid down beside him, bringing the joint up to your lips. You wrapped your lips around the end of it and inhaled, your eyes closing for a brief few seconds. You’re beautiful, he thought to himself. The familiar stench of weed had invaded his nostrils, as well as yours.

“My parents would fuckin’ kill me if they saw me up here.” You said, laughing a bit breathlessly. You parents were oblivious, in the living room or kitchen, completely unaware that Justin had been in your room the entire afternoon. Completely unaware that you were now on the roof smoking weed with your boyfriend. Though, you supposed that it worked out better for you, because you could feel yourself relaxing even further, ending a good day on an even higher note, no pun intended.

“I get the feeling neither of them would like me if they saw us up here. They’d probably say I was a bad influence on you. And it’s probably true.” He chuckled, taking the joint between his fingers and bringing it up to his lips again. “I’m corrupting you, baby.” He said, cheekily. He looked over at you with that big and bright smile on his face and you were reminded of why you fell for him in the first place; you and Justin went to the same school. Liberty High School. You weren’t necessarily popular but you weren’t a loner either. You had just moved there a few months, shortly before going out with Justin. and you had immediately caught his eye. He’d flirt with you, do things to try and get your attention. But you made him work for it. You wanted him to sweat a little bit, make him realize that you weren’t going to give in to his charms so easily.

But in the end, he won you over. You couldn’t say no to him. You couldn’t say no to that beautiful smile and those bright blue eyes. Now, here you were, months later. You were going out, happy as can be. But, you had soon learned that Justin’s life wasn’t all that he made it out to be. You remembered one evening where he called you, asked if he could go over to your house and spend the night. Usually, you’d say no. You knew that your parents would ground you for life if they found a boy in your room at night. But his voice, he sounded so sad, so broken — you couldn’t say no to him. However, the last thing that you expected to see was your boyfriend sporting a fresh, darkening purple bruise on his cheekbone that cascaded all the way up to his eye. Around his neck were reddening fingerprints, as if someone had strangled him.

You remembered the shock that you felt seeing him in such a state, and naturally, you had thought that you boyfriend had been in a fight. He had been in a fight. With his mom’s boyfriend. All you could do was sit on the bed, hold a pack of ice to his face and listen as he explained to you the horrors that he went through on a daily basis at the hands of his drug addicted mother and her boyfriend. He looked so different than how you knew him. His ocean eyes that were usually so vibrant and full of life, were downcast, gloomy. That was when you realized that there was more to Justin Foley than met the eye. From then on, you told him that whenever things were getting bad at home, he always had a place to stay with you. And it seemed like your relationships had also strengthened, like you two had gotten closer. All you wanted to do was ensure that he was safe, that no harm would come to him. Even if it meant physically stepping in and doing something. Though, you were sure that you would be no match for the coward known as Seth Massey. Still, you would do anything for Justin. Just as you knew he’d do anything for you.

You chuckled softly at his words. “Well then I guess you can be my dirty little secret.” You said to him, scooting so that you were snuggled closer to him. It was then that your smile melted away and was replaced with a look of concern. “How are things with you thought? At home, I mean. You haven’t spoken about it in a little while, and Bryce told me that you stayed with him for a few days last week. Is Seth back?” You were trying your hardest not to pry, the last thing you wanted to do was come off as clingy or noisy, but you couldn’t help it. You cared. Where Justin was laying on his back, the hem of his shirt had rose up slightly on his stomach, leaving a thick sliver of skin expose. Your fingers rested there, absently toying with the thing trail of hair below his belly button. That first inhale was gradually loosening your muscles. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.. I just worry. I mean.. is everything good? Or do I have to kick his ass for you?” You said, only half joking.

Justin smiled, wrapping his arm around you to pull you closer to him. “I would love to see that. I mean, I would pay to see that shit actually.” He chuckled, taking one more drag of the joint before handing it off to you. His fingers drew little random patterns and shaped on your silky skin, his smile dying down. “Yeah, um.. He’s back. I mean, honestly I just figured I’d stay out of his way rather than start anymore fuckin’ problems. The last thing I need is to get into another fuckin’ fight with that dick. So I just stayed with Bryce for a few days.” In all honesty, Seth actually kind of scared Justin. The man was unpredictable. Violent. He’d hurt Justin countless of times, called him so many names that he could probably write a book filled with them. There were times were the blue eyed teen didn’t even want to deal with Seth so he just escaped to Bryce’s pool house where he’d pretend like his home life wasn’t a big pule of shit. Still, he wrestled with his thoughts of guilt at leaving his mom alone with that scum bad. He wrestled with his thought of guilt because he knew that Seth would and could hurt his mother. But countless of times, Amber Foley welcomed Seth back no matter what he’d done to her or him. And countless of times, Justin was left disappointed by his own flesh and blood.

It was why he was determined to keep you out of that. You were probably one of the few good things in his life, besides Bryce and his friends. You were good. You were pure. And the last thing he wanted was to have you tainted by the shit show that was his life. Sometimes he felt like he didn’t deserve you at all. Like you deserved someone way better than him. Someone who could give you more than him. If he was being truthful, he never wanted you to find out about his home life. He wanted to keep that part of his life hidden and he wanted you to see what everybody at school saw; the popular jock with lots of friends and lots of girls pining after him. The guy with the seemingly perfect life. Yet, when you discovered that his mom was a drug addict with an extremely abusive boyfriend.. you stayed. You didn’t judge him. You didn’t leave him. You stayed. And Justin considered himself the luckiest person on the planet because he had you.

You frowned. “Justin, babe, why didn’t you tell me? You know that you don’t have to hide shit from me, right? I mean I’m glad you got outta there and stayed with Bryce for a few days but you can come to me too.”

“Hey, it’s fine. It’s whatever. I just I didn’t want to tell you anything and make you worried. I only stayed with Bryce because.. I don’t know, I just didn’t want to feel like I was bugging you or something. And I don’t want you to get in trouble with your folks because of me incase they found out that I stayed here.” He explained. “Don’t worry, okay? Everything is all good, I promise. I’m here with you. How could it not be?�� He leaned over and kissed your forehead. His words and his kiss had eased your nerves, even if it was only temporarily. Right now, the two of you were together and everything was good. Neither of you had a care in the world; you were with each other and you were all that mattered.

“You know that you don’t deserve it, right? All that shit from Seth. No matter what he says or does to you.. it’s not your fault and you shouldn’t have to live like that.. I’m serious, Justin. I’m here, don’t forget that. I’m your girlfriend but I’m also your friend.” You said. To show that he’d heard you, Justin gave your arm a loving squeeze. For a few minutes, neither of you said nothing. The both of you just stared up at the darkening sky, passing the joint back and forth until nothing was left. Until your muscles were completely relaxed, until your eyes were half lidded, until the only thing on your mind was how good you felt.

“Do you ever think about leaving this place? Just packing your shit and going? I’ve thought about it. We could go anywhere we want. Away from Seth, from all the high school bullshit, away from everyone. It’d be nice.” You hummed, the air growing cooler as you spoke. “But it looks like we’re stuck here. For now, at least. Graduation seems like forever away.” You broke the silence, though your eyes never left the beautiful sky. Justin, however, turned to look at you. For a few seconds, he just stared at you and took you in — how good your perfume smelled and how it seemed to cling to him. How the fabric of your outfit contrasted beautifully against your skin. How relaxed you looked. You were utterly ethereal.

“I think about it all the time. Especially when I’m at home, listening to my mom and Seth fight. I think about just fucking leaving and never coming back. Forgetting this boring ass little town and just.. getting away from here.” He revealed. “Maybe one day, me and you, we can get outta here together. After graduation. Just pack our shit up and leave.” That was a good thought. Leaving Crestmont with you. Going anywhere in the world that they wanted. But you two were still young, and neither of you knew the giant shit storm that you were about to go through. Neither of you knew the horror that you’d endure. Neither of you knew if you’d even still be together by the time you go to graduation.. or if you even make it to graduation. Still, right now, everything seemed too good and too perfect. Like nothing could tear you down and ruin what you had going on.

You groaned, burying your face in Justin’s shoulder. “Graduation is so far away.” You whined playfully. “Who’s to say that you won’t get tired of me by then?”

“Eh, you’re right. You’re pretty fucking annoying.” Justin said, earning a smack to the chest by you. “I’m kidding!” He laughed. “I mean.. we don’t know what’s gonna happen but I like to think that you and I will still be together by the time we get to graduation. I mean.. I don’t know.. call me sappy or whatever.. I just really like you, Y/N.. And you know about me and my fucked up life and family and you haven’t run for the hills.. yet. I guess I’m pretty fucking lucky to have you and I don’t wanna screw any of this up.”

“Wow.. Justin Foley.. Have you been watching cheesy romance movies?” You teased your boyfriend. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, laughing softly. “Seriously though.. I really like you too and nothing you do or say is gonna scare me off. Seth isn’t gonna scare me off either. You’re right, we don’t know what’s gonna happen in the future but.. we just gotta take it day by day right.. Together?”

Instead of initially answering you verbally, Justin surged forward and captured your soft lips with his own. The kiss that you shared was slow, relaxed, a symptom of the weed that you two had just shared. But it was more loving than any other kiss you’d experienced before. You sighed in content, easing against him, but Justin reacted by gripping your thigh and moving it so that it was draped over his lap. You did the rest; without breaking the kiss, your mouths and tongues moving in a steady rhythm, you shifted from laying against the tiled roof and positioned yourself on top of him. Your thigh were sturdy on either side of his lips, your butt rested lightly upon his lap. Justin’s hands fell on your hips, holding you secure and steady against him, almost as if wanting to make sure that you wouldn’t disappear.

After a few long, precious moments, you finally pulled away an inch or two. Your face was close to his, your noses barely touching. “Together.” He finally answered.

“You’re stuck with me now, Foley. Sorry about it.” You giggled breathlessly, your eyes shining brightly. Justin never wanted to look away.

“Yeah? Well sorry to say it, but you’re stuck with me too, baby. You ain’t getting rid of me that easily.”

Justin knew his friends, Bryce and all the other jocks, would call him pussy whipped if they could see him now. Hell, they already did every time they saw you and Justin walking down the hallway holding hands or his arm around you.. Justin would soon learn that his biggest downfall would be caring too much of what his friends think.

But for now, he enjoyed the moment of being tangled up with you on the roof of your house with the moon illuminating you both. Nothing else mattered.

[jaskiersvalley]

I read your whole blog in the 12 hours before and after getting my wisdom tooth surgically removed, and I enjoyed reading the ficlet about the hree headed puppy so much, I read it aloud to my mom in the car on the way, which she enjoyed as much as I did. Since then I've also read some others to her, but that one and the illiterate Witchers are my favorites. Thank you so much for writing.

I hope your wisdom tooth surgery went smoothly and it’s all healing up nicely! Also, 12 hours to read the whole blog is quite amazing, I am humbled by your dedication. To know that you’ve shared the three headed puppy story with your mum is awesome, I don’t think I’d dare share any of my writing with mine XD As thank you for the regular reblogs, comments and your asks, have a little ficlet of Jaskier and the witchers! Keep being awesome!

Not a lot could unsettled a witcher, even less so a witcher of the fabled Wolf School. Despite this, there was unease in Kaer Morhen that grew as the days passed. There were murmurs, quietly exchange theories between four witchers. Well, three of the witchers were at odds and trying to make sense of things while Geralt rolled his eyes.

“You’ll get used to him. He’s honestly like this,” Geralt said for the umpteenth time, alarmingly close to rolling his eyes.

“Eskel, you’ve got more magic, can’t you just, I don’t know, feel him out for a curse or glamour or something like that,” Lambert whined.

In acknowledgement of the seriousness of the matter, Eskel didn’t dismiss the idea straightaway. Instead, he actually looked over the other witchers as they were huddled in the pantry for a secret meeting while Jaskier...was probably serenading the forktails or something equally ridiculous.

“You know my ability is very limited and stunted, but I’ll try,” he agreed with great gravity.

That was all the others (minus Geralt) asked. Plan in place, they filed out of the pantry, only to face a rather perturbed Jaskier sat on the table, watching them with curiosity while munching on an apple.

“I get it, important witcher-y pantry business,” he said, smiling around a mouthful of fruit.

There was no time like the present, Eskel thought and he stopped near Jaskier, hand wrapped around his wolf medallion and focused, palm turned subtly towards the bard. There wasn’t even the slightest quiver from his medallion and, after a long moment, he looked over to the others and shook his head. A collective breath was released, it was a relief but also frustrating. Geralt walked past Eskel, shoulders smacking into each other and a low “told you” had Eskel growling.

The next day found them crowding into an old and disused room with a table - probably where one of the witchers of old would sort the accounts of Kaer Morhen.

“There’s nothing magical about him,” Eskel grumbled. “Or he hides it so skilfully, I have no way of detecting it.”

“I’ll try something at dinner then. I have just the dinner set for him.”

The quiet “just an enthusiastic human” from Geralt went ignored. Especially when they opened the door and Jaskier was sat opposite it with his lute. He had the audacity to roll his eyes and shake his head.

“Important witcher accounting business, I know,” he said, not breaking the strumming of his newest song.

That evening, Lambert set the table and Jaskier’s set looked intricate. It got a couple of raised eyebrows.

“You mentioned you were a viscount, wanted you to feel more at home.” Lambert explained it away with a shrug. He blushed a little at the wide smile of thanks and Jaskier picked up the silver goblet. The witchers watched raptly as he took a sip of blessed water from the silver goblet. Nothing. Other than Jaskier smacking his lips and staring at the drink curiously.

“It’s most refreshing, must be the delight of the local mountain spring.”

The iron utensils went unnoticed too though Jaskier did admire the pattern on the handles.

In short, Lambert’s attempts were a bust too.

“You’ve got to try something,” Lambert and Eskel were pleading with Vesemir. “You must know some potion or other. There is no way he so fearlessly befriends witchers and maintains a cheery outlook on life after travelling with Geralt.” The two of them looked at Geralt suspiciously. “Maybe he’s bewitched his witcher.”

“Or he’s just a human,” Geralt said but, as before, he went ignored.

Finally, Vesemir sighed. “I will try out something. But you may pay the price.”

“Whatever it is, we’ll gladly accept it.” Eskel nodded along with Lambert’s declaration. With that settled, they stepped out of the laundry room and nobody looked Jaskier in the eye as he watched them, leaning up against the wall opposite, one leg up and arms crossed over his chest.

“Dirty witcher business,” he said. As Geralt was the last one out, only he saw Jaskeir’s wink and shook his head in despair.

Evening came round and Vesemir brought a bottle of est est that had everyone perking up. It was sweetened and aged into something more refined than they would usually encounter on the Path. They all drank and sighed happily.

“Bard,” Vesemir called out, “what’s your full name?”

“Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove. Though I do prefer going by Jaskier.” He didn’t even blink at the question. “Why do you ask?”

Vesemir gritted his teeth to ignore the question. He was only half successful. “What are your intentions towards Geralt? And I ask because we have all drunk est est imbued with a truth serum. We want to figure out what you are.”

Rather than look appalled or scared, Jaskier lit up with the brightest smile. “My intentions towards are Geralt are pure outside of the bedroom. I love him with all of my little human heart.” However, he turned his eyes to the witchers with a glint. “Why do you all crowd into small spaces? Were you having sexual relations without wanting me involved?”

There was a flurry of ‘no!” from around the room except from Lambert who said, “nah, the only one I bang here is Eskel.”

There was a moment of stunned silence before Jaskier bounced excitedly and clapped. “Do you love him?”

More silence as Lambert looked down at his lap and went bright red, obviously trying to hold his answer in while Eskel looked at him, hope visibly dying with each passing second.

“It’s not okay,” he whispered, squeezing Lambert’s shoulder and cursed when the ‘not’ slipped in thanks to the truth serum.

“Of course I love you, you idiot,” Lambert said and finally looked up. The declaration had Jaskier squealing and snuggling close to Geralt, adoring the openness.

“One more question. Actually, two more.” Geralt looked down at him. “This is something the others wanted an answer to. Why are you so nice, never scared of us? And why are your answers the same now as when you haven’t drunk a truth serum?”

A small laugh burst from Jaskier as he craned his neck to kiss Geralt. “I’d never lie to any of you. I love you all in your own ways, why would I be scared of my gentle wolves when you’ve all been nothing but kind to me?”

“Because nobody else treats us like you do.” Vesemir’s voice was soft and sad. “We didn’t trust the purity of your intentions. And I’m sorry for that.”

Two nods accompanied his words as Lambert and Eskel looked sheepish.

“They’re going through the same thing I did for the first couple of years we knew each other.”

Understanding dawned on Jaskier’s face and he looked at the others. “Well, as long as you don’t punch me in the stomach, I think you’ll do better than Geralt did.”

He pressed into the hold Geralt had around him and smiled. “You’re the only one I’ll love like this though, don’t worry. No matter how many years pass.”

Something about those words made Eskel frown. “Just how old are you?”

“I don’t know, I kind of lost track,” Jaskier smiled.

“Jaskier, you said you’re human. But are you immortal?”

“I don’t know.” The smile stayed in place. “But so far so good, right?”

[ohmywhump]

Day 29: I think I need a doctor (Jonah & Vincent)

previous / masterlist / whumptober masterlist

CW: knives, hand surgery (implied), drugging, mention of former drug abuse

Jonah was sitting at the kitchen table, anxiously staring down so he wouldn’t have to look at Domenic; somehow it had become some kind of routine for Vincent to call his friend over for babysitting whenever he had to leave for a meeting.

'Tell me, Jonah - which hand do you use for writing?' the man asked with a dangerous smile on his face.

'W-what?'

'It's not a difficult question, is it? I saw you using both of them for different things and now I want to know which hand you write with.'

Instead of replying he could only stare at the knife in Domenic's hand, paralysed by fear.

'If you don't answer my question I'll cut off your thumbs – both of them.'

'No, p-please..,' he whimpered.

'Answer my question, then.'

'The... the l-left one...'

'Okay,' Domenic smiled viciously, 'I'll pierce through the other one then...'

'No, please don't, please, noooo!'

His pleas turned into a scream as the knife cut through the back of his hand, pinning it to the table. He couldn’t move since every tiny inch made the blade dig deeper into the flesh, sending a searing pain up his arm. His head started spinning when he saw a small puddle of blood extending from under his hand and he felt like he was about to faint. 

His vision blurred. He could hear people talking but he didn’t understand a single word of what they were saying, a high-pitched whistling noise in his ears drowning out all other sounds. He stared down at his hand but his eyes refused to focus, the outline of the knife stuck in his hand being the only thing he saw. Shouldn’t there be much more blood? His whole arm grew cold and numb, his heart was racing, sweat running down his forehead… and suddenly, a strange feeling of peace started to spread in his chest. 

I’m dying.

Maybe this had finally been too much to bear for his body. And maybe it was for the best. Nobody had been searching for him, so there wouldn’t be anyone missing him once he was dead. He wouldn’t have to wake up in Vincent’s house every morning, either chained to his captor’s bed or locked up in a dark and soundproof cell, panicking when he thought about what the next day might bring. No more worries. No more pain. Just… peace.

He felt someone’s hand closing around his wrist, pulling up the sleeve. A stitch, just like being stung by a bee… except that it had been a needle that pierced through his skin.

‘Whaaaa…’ he mumbled, trying to pull away, but only causing the blade to cut deeper into his palm. He forced his eyes shut. If he didn’t look at it, he could pretend it didn’t happen, like it had been after the accident. He had been through so much worse, so there was nothing to be scared of now, right? Wrong. Back then, he had been in hospital. People had taken care of him, had given him something to numb the pain, to make him feel better… now it was the other way round. No-one was taking care of him. Instead of being given medication to feel better, they were hurting him. Drugging him. Humiliating him. And now maybe even killing him. A stabbing pain shot up his arm when the knife was removed from his hand. Seeing it glide through his skin, the blood gushing out, he fainted.

*

‘What the fucking hell were you thinking?’ Vincent hissed at Domenic while Jonah was shoved into an examination room on a stretcher.

‘It’ll work out fine, just trust me for once, will you?’

‘It better does,’ he replied through clenched teeth while entering the room.

‘No, get him away from me!’ Jonah whined as soon as he recognised him, just waking from his dazed state and pulled away from the doctor who had been examining his hand, ‘He abducted me! And his friend did this to me! Please help me! Call the police!’

‘My lovely baby, why are you saying such nasty things?’

Vincent looked up at the baffled physician, tears welling up in his eyes while he rested his hand on Jonah’s shoulder in a firm grip.

‘You need to help him, he… he got himself injured because of… well..,’ the dark haired man whispered. ‘It’s the goddamn drugs again.’

He sniffed and turned away, sat down on a chair near the door and hid his face in his hands.

‘He promised me to stop taking this stuff…,’ he mumbled, shaking his head, ‘And now… What if I hadn’t found him in time?’

‘What? I didn’t! You have to believe me, he tricked me into coming with him and locked me up for… oh my God, I don’t even know how long I’ve been with him, please, you have to help me!’

‘See? He’s completely out of his mind, he doesn’t even remember what day it is and he believes I abducted him just because I tried to keep him away from his dealer… but obviously I didn’t succeed…’

‘He’s right.’

Domenic had appeared in the doorframe and looked from Vincent to Jonah and finally to the doctor.

‘I was there when his partner found him, he was sitting at a table and there was a knife sticking in his right hand, we called an ambulance but he ripped the knife out of his hand and ran away from us, so we decided to get him into the car as soon as possible and brought him here right away.’

‘They’re lying,’ Jonah sobbed, pointing at Domenic, ‘He did this to me!’

‘Only one way to find out the truth,’ the doctor declared, clearly sick of the whole discussion, ‘We’ll do a tox screen.’

*

‘You have tested positive for-’

‘No! I don’t take drugs, they injected something into my arm, just take a look! Please, you have to believe me!’

The doctor looked down at Jonah, his expression a mixture of pity and sternness.

‘Your hand - does it still hurt?’

‘Yes..,’ Jonah mumbled.

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, the older man kept staring at him; there was no more pity showing on his face anymore.

‘You’ve been given morphine after we finished surgery. In fact, you’ve been given a very high amount of morphine, similar to what we usually give to people who had an amputation. And you say it still hurts? This should have knocked you out for hours, but here you are, awake, talking - and complaining about the pain you feel…’

Jonah wanted to explain, wanted to tell him about the accident, about the pain medication he had been given back then, about his former addiction.... but the doctor didn’t look at him anymore. Instead, he walked over to the door, shaking hands with someone Jonah couldn’t see from where he was lying. But he didn’t need to see, because he would have recognised this voice among thousands.

‘Thank you, Dr Sheehy - I’ll take him home now. When are we supposed to return to remove the stitches?’

‘In 14 days. But you should make sure he’ll receive the right treatment for his… other problem too.’

‘I will. Thank you, doctor. Jonah, get up! We’re going home!’

***

Taglist: @faewhump @whumpinbloom @legallylibra @lonesome--hunter @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @whumpasaurus101 @whumptober2020

[oumakokichi]

fave dr ships and why?? :0

Hmm, that’s a pretty fun question! There are so many fun character interactions in each game that there’s a lot of ships I really like, so I’ll try to briefly just touch on some of my favorites in each game!

There aren’t really any spoilers in my reply, but I’m going to include a read-more anyway because even trying to keep it brief, there were a lot of ships to cover, so it still got pretty long.

In dr1, I honestly really love naegiri. Naegi gets a lot of flack for “not being interesting enough” or “not bringing anything to the table,” but I think he worked really well as the protagonist for the first installment of the series, and I absolutely think he and Kirigiri have a lot of great chemistry. Kirigiri and Naegi’s relationship is all about finding a balance between doubt and belief, and both of them really help each other grow as people. I think their dynamic is at its best in the first game, since Kirigiri gets so much time to shine and really feels more like the deuteragonist of the series than anyone else. Plus watching Naegi try to learn how to read her stoic façade when she’s really quite emotional under the  surface is so much fun.

I’m also a huge fan of aoisakura. I love everything about their interaction, and chapter 4 of dr1 is still one of the best in the whole series in my opinion. Both of them care so much about each other even from early on, and Aoi’s anger at how the others treat Sakura or talk about her like she’s hardly even a person comes across as so legitimate. It’s such a great and largely underrated ship, so I always love to see it.

I also have to say that I like kirizono quite a lot! They don’t have much in the way of interaction in canon, considering how early Maizono dies, but it’s one of those ships where I’m much more interested in the overall potential. Kirigiri seems to have a very good grasp of what Maizono was actually like as a person and what she might have been thinking in her final moments. While she uncovers the truth of the events of chapter 1, she doesn’t see Maizono as irredeemable for tricking Naegi, but merely as someone who was scared and who ultimately couldn’t go through with her own plan. She knew that Maizono was trying to help Naegi in her own way by leaving him a dying message, and I would have loved to see a detective-and-assistant duo with Kirigiri and Maizono in some alternate universe.

Other ships from dr1 that I enjoy even if I’m not super invested in them from an analysis standpoint are celesgiri (how could I not ship the original liar and detective), naekusaba (DR IF really sold me on this one), ishimondo (all around a solid, great ship), and naegami (honestly I just think the idea of Kirigiri and Togami both dating Naegi but barely tolerating each other as friends is really funny).

Sdr2 is probably the game where I wound up the least invested in shipping, but there are still a few that I like!

Hinanami isn’t quite as appealing to me as naegiri, mostly due to Nanami being used twice for Hinata’s character development, but they have some really cute moments that I do enjoy a lot, and I really love any interaction between the two of them as gamer friends. Nanami is so much more mischievous than most people give her credit for; I still can’t help remembering when I replayed sdr2 a year or two ago and got to the part with her threatening to poke Hinata’s eyes out during an investigation, and I nearly lost my shit because I didn’t remember it at all from previous playthroughs.

I’m not quite as invested in komahina as I thought I would be when I first got into DR, but I definitely don’t mind it either! I think Komaeda’s feelings for Hinata are pretty textual and undeniable; lines like “I’m in love with the hope that’s sleeping inside you” are impossible, in my opinion, to handwave as “just a friend thing,” and Megumi Ogata has all but stated outright that her character song for Komaeda is specifically about Hinata.

Of course, I definitely think Komaeda would need to work on a lot of his internalized ideas about talent and self-worth, and that he and Hinata would have to start as friends first before carrying their relationship into anything romantic, but if their really cute interation in ndrv3’s talent development plan is anything to go off of, I think Hinata definitely does want to help Komaeda value himself more and wants to be friends with him.

As for other ships that I enjoy more casually, I like twobuki (if that’s even what people are still calling Twogami/Impostor and Ibuki as a ship), sondam (all of Sonia’s nerding out about Gundam’s chuunibyou interests is honestly super adorable), nanamiki (I feel like Nanami and Mikan could honestly have a cute dynamic if Mikan weren’t under Junko’s influence), and… I actually have no idea for this ship name, but Impostor/Hinata is really sweet. This is more related to dr3, but one of the few things I did come out feeling positively about was Impostor/Mitarai, despite everything else about how the story turned out.

Finally, there’s ndrv3! There’s quite a lot of ships I really love here, so it’s actually a little hard to narrow it down.

I hardly think I need to mention saiouma at this point, since it’s the ship I talk about the most on this blog, but it’s still my favorite ship from pretty much anything ever. I love their dynamic so much: the way they both embody the themes of “truth” and “lies” within the game respectively, the way they constantly want to know more about each other while being afraid to open up or trust each other completely, and the fact that they so perfectly manage to capture the chase of the “phantom thief vs. detective” trope to the point that it was even lampshaded in Ouma’s love hotel... all of these things just make it so much fun.

It’s another ship where I just love thinking about the potential, whether in an AU where Ouma might have lived or else where the killing game never took place at all. I honestly really love ships that deal with a lot of slow-burn and both characters thinking their affections are unrequited when it turns out they’re actually both just idiots with a bad case of pining. I also really love the fact that, in my opinion, it’s a ship where Saihara would have to really take the initiative in the end—otherwise, Ouma is just going to keep trying to run away every time he drops an “I love you,” or “you’re my favorite.”

I also really, really love himiten. It’s a ship that gets a lot more flack than it deserves, in my opinion, and it’s sad to see that it’s a little underappreciated these days. There are flaws and problems within the ship, of course, but these are things that are actually addressed within the game itself. Himiko’s apathy and disregard towards Tenko’s feelings is called out pretty bluntly in the later parts of chapter 3, and she winds up mourning Tenko’s death and taking her last advice to heart more than anyone else.

Meanwhile, while Tenko certainly meant well and always had Himiko’s best interests at heart, it’s true that she came across as somewhat condescending sometimes (albeit unintentionally) by treating Himiko like a cute animal instead of a person.  I think that she understood Himiko’s feelings a lot better by chapter 3, which is why she prioritized trying to let Himiko talk to Angie one more time despite her own misgivings about Angie. Tenko grew a lot more as a character than a lot of people give her credit for, and I would have loved to see any post-game scenario where Himiko and Tenko could’ve finally started a relationship on equal footing outside of the game.

I actually have two entire ships for Miu that I am equally fond of. Both kiiruma and irumatsu are really great in my opinion, in totally different ways. The sheer chaotic potential of kiiruma gets overlooked a lot of times, I think, but both of them are complete disasters. They have so much fun together and it really shows, both in canon and in the talent development plan as well. Kiibo is so wonderful and I love him so much, because you’d think he’d be the voice of reason as a “cold, logical robot”—but honestly, he’s just as messed-up and over the top as Miu. I mean, he did photograph her poop on what turned out to be a live audience national broadcast and he didn’t see anything wrong with this.

Kiibo is one of the few characters who vocally talks about missing Miu after her death in chapter 4, and he repeatedly tells her how much he appreciates her maintenance work on him both in canon and in one of their talent development scenes. In one such scene, he even mentions wanting to continue their ongoing relationship after they graduate, which I think is surprisingly sweet and adorable for the two of them. Honestly, Miu is about as wild as a DR character ever gets, and I love the idea of her and Kiibo just having fun with each other.

Meanwhile, Kaede and Miu’s dynamic is a lot more back-and-forth. Kaede spends a good part of her FTEs absolutely frustrated and fed up with Miu, but also decidedly worried for her well-being and wondering how she might get her to be more of a team player. She’s not afraid to put her foot down when Miu crosses the line, but she’s also one of the few people who’s ever been willing to stand by Miu and encourage her or actually be her friend in spite of how awful Miu is at interacting with others.

Even in the talent development plan, Kaede’s often seen together with Miu a lot, which I think is super cute and confirms that even at Hope’s Peak, she’d still be trying to make sure Miu had a friend around. And she was able to tell that, despite what a disaster Miu’s idea with the Christmas lights was, it was Miu’s own way of trying to add to the festivities and do something nice for other people. All in all, it’s one of my favorite wlw DR ships, and I really love when fanworks capture just how shy or flustered Miu got around Kaede sometimes.

Of course, I like momoharu a lot as well! It’s one of the ships that has grown on me quite a bit in my absence, mostly just because despite all of Momota’s flaws, he really does want Maki to love herself first and foremost. Maki’s own feelings for Momota are so important to her character growth and really represent her feeling as though she’s finally made a choice for the first time in her life, and it’s really heartwarming to see. Also, any ship where the girl could lift a guy up with one arm without breaking a sweat is a pretty good ship in my opinion.

As for other ndrv3 ships that I enjoy a lot, there’s saihoshi (Hoshi is extremely underrated as a character, and I adore how sweet his FTEs and salmon mode with Saihara were; it’s also another ship where I feel Saihara would have to really take the initiative to make Hoshi fully open up, which I like), amamatsu (Kaede and Amami had a lot of really funny, great interaction in chapter 1 and some fun banter in their FTEs, so I would’ve loved to see more of it), and harumatsu/kaemaki (again, they have a lot of potential and it would have been extremely interesting to see them interact more).

I also like saiibo, not so much in the way that most people ship it (their love hotel is cute, don’t get me wrong!), but mostly because Kiibo’s FTEs are the funniest set of FTEs in the whole game in my opinion, and the twist where they were both looking down on each other without the other one knowing just made my jaw drop before I started laughing my ass off. They’re almost as much of a disaster together as Kiibo and Miu are, and I think the humor in their dynamic sometimes gets overlooked.

There are even more ships that I like, and I could keep going on and on, but I should probably leave things off here. Character interactions are so much fun in DR, both because of the genuine growth and character development from a lot of the cast, but also because so many of them are so whacky and borderline cartoonish that it’s just really fun imagining further interactions between them. Thank you for the fun ask, anon!

[mooncruiser]

Heyy!! I’ve been meaning to pin my testimony, so here it is :)

So, my life wasn’t really the greatest growing up. I mention C-PTSD in my bio, and that’s what I’ll get into a bit. I’ll try not to be too graphic, but I can’t guarantee it’ll be totally safe.

There were some questionable things in my toddler years, a neglectful daycare center for 3 months, my dad being in and out of my life due to fear of getting attached at first, him flying off the handle once with me (my mom got on him for it, so it never happened again) but I think the trauma started with my cousins leaving me stuck out in a baby swing twice, a near death experience with a dog bite, and a homicidal attempt on me and my mom by my sister, who was 16 at the time (I’m 5 years old). 

There was also the dog cage incident I believe at…6 years old? Me and my brother were playing and he forgot me on accident. I pretty much accepted at this point that life was gonna chain me up and try to kill me lol, but it let up for a good while, and I had a pretty decent childhood. At 9 years old, there was the torturously loud school program in the gym I had to sit through for 2 hours, I think. 

It was at 10 when things became chronically ongoing. Domestic violence at home from my sister (physical, emotional abuse on me and my family), more physical and emotional abuse at school from my assistant teacher because I was on an IEP for my autism. At 11, I was sexually abused by my female friend who was 12, and her female cousin, who was 13. I was abandoned by my cousins and aunt, and I was being placed in a seclusion room at school during standardized tests (which was sensory deprived solitary confinement) even after I was finished for the day. At 12 years old, I started being emotionally neglected by my mother.

I mean, I was so angry and depressed and secretly suicidal at 10, but by 12 I was severely dissociating (I had been dissociating during trauma at various times prior). I had so much fear and anxiety that by the time I was 13 I’d be feeling like passing out 24/7, so I got on meds, which only helped the more severe physical symptoms, I guess. 

At 13, I started being groomed by this high school girl that liked me. She was a Sophomore, and I was in 7th grade. She noticed the neglect and told me she knew me better. She would give me gifts, teach me to ship gay pairings, gave me a gay pedophilic manga. Shamelessly told me she had sexual relations with her male cousin and his friends who were around my age. I blocked it out. 

I also had a very abusive friendship with a girl online who had BPD. My assistant teacher, who came with me to middle school, restrained and tortured me with the marching band’s loud music in the hallway, which only intensified my dissociative symptoms (I was actually switching alters at this point regularly and having no idea).

I remember at 13 being confused about my gender and sexuality. My mom was no help and just wanted me to hide it from my family and everyone else, for reputation purposes and she didn’t want me bullied. That was actually how I decided to get in contact with my grooming abuser, which I wonder at this point whether that was my fault. I didn’t expect her to really take over like she did, but I was essentially brainwashed into accepting whatever I was feeling for her benefit. I just wanted advice and a friend. 

I was so lonely, I had been desperate for friends for years, and I was desperate for someone to love me in any way, honestly. I was overeating. I’d spend hours daydreaming, in video games or entertainment to escape from school and everything else. During meltdowns, I’d be doing self injurious behaviors. 

So by 14, I come out as a lesbian. Had a couple relationships with girls who just saw me as a sexual object (I remember saying yes to sexual things even though I didn’t want to, just so that they wouldn’t abandon me. Dissociating off and finding it disgusting), would cheat on me with multiple people, ignore me for new friends, etc. 

The BPD friend I dated, when I broke up with her, immediately attempted suicide so that scarred me more into our trauma bond. She’d show me self harm pics she took from time to time. It scared me into making sure I didn’t trigger her again, but u know I never knew what triggered her in the first place, so, like with everything else, I had no strategy to life. It was either fight, run, dissociate or nod yes to everything. She took up the latter lol. 

I came out as trans my Freshman year, and stayed that way into my Sophomore year. I was bitter about dating because of the whole sexual object thing, and full of shame at the same time, thinking no one would want me. I thought I was asexual. I tried out a career high school honestly just to get away from the memories of my old school. 

Some feelings about being trans started to fade, but not entirely, so I went by genderfluid/genderqueer from 17-19. I was excited to make new friends at my new school, but my anxiety kept me from it. I opened up very awkwardly about my dating history to one girl (which tbh I shouldn’t have, but I had been brainwashed so lol) and she told all the girls in my lab, and I was excluded and bullied (and cyberbullied) from thereon. 

I didn’t know it at first, it was so subtle. But once I knew, I tried standing up for myself and told the principal, which made them leave me alone for the most part. They’d glare at me, use me at graduation, cyberbully me one last time 8 months after graduation, and that was it. I still had to deal with domestic violence until I was 22, but once I graduated everything pretty much hit me.

I knew I’d be too stressed out to go to college or work. School indoctrination tried to teach me to be neurotypical and expect this, but it wasn’t happening. I was too afraid to leave my house for a year, and too afraid to be honest online for fear of being watched and bullied, or stalked. I was seriously considering suicide down the line. I thought I had nothing left to live for. I was useless. Nobody cared. Friends moved on to their new lives and I was dying. 

That’s when Jesus stepped in.

I guess I started being curious about God again for the first time since I was 12. I always believed in God, was grateful to Him for being there for me during the domestic violence and never blamed Him for it. I found out about worship music and was thrilled, and a question came up. Was being gay a sin? My grooming abuser taught me that God made me gay, so it was alright. But I wanted to know for sure this time from the Word. 

To my surprise, she was wrong. The Bible said it was indeed, a sin (the practice, not so much the identity aspect). I couldn’t piece together why, so I struggled with it for months. On my 20th birthday however, when I got done creating fanart of a gay pairing, I felt strongly convicted by the Holy Spirit that it was wrong. So I went to God.

I said, “If it is wrong, please change me so I can make You happy, because I love You. In the meantime, I won’t do anything in support of it for a while. If it’s not wrong, don’t change me, and I’ll know which way is right because I trust You.” When I look back on it, it was a pretty crazy prayer. Lots of people have said they couldn’t “pray the gay away”, and I do wonder what the difference was with me.

After 3 months, I stopped to check if I still felt anything, and the feelings were gone. My gender dysphoria was gone, too. I was way too afraid to tell anybody yet, but I remember when I did, one of the first people I told was my grooming abuser. 

She was livid, tried one last time to intimidate me. Another time we crossed paths (she came out of nowhere saying hi, said she worked at that market, complimented me and walked away smiling) and I was triggered, I messaged her and told her how she hurt me and I couldn’t bear to be around her anymore, but I hoped she’d have a good life. She didn’t respond online, but she complained to my sister that I thought she was a predator, and by the end of the conversation tries to get her to tell me she said hi. When she had kids, she was planning on raising them to be nonbinary. Her husband was abusive to them, so she ended up losing them. She never bugged me again. 

I was blown away by how God had changed me. How He opened my eyes to the truth. I prayed for Him to open my eyes to whatever else I had been blind to, and He slowly began lifting off the amnesia surrounding all my traumas, urging me towards recovery with Him. I realized I might have OSDD-1b recently as well, which is strange that I could have possibly had DID prior to losing my amnesia? 

I have been on this journey ever since, journaling, blogging, researching, and finally in a wonderful therapy called EMDR where I truly release the traumas from my body, hear God’s new positive beliefs to replace old negative ones from my childhood, and experience loving extraordinary visions while processing that teach me to focus on Jesus, trust Him more, love and pray for my enemies, and have a real satisfying relationship with Him that’s unattainable with anyone on Earth, along with daily Bible study. 

The picture on the left was me at 16 in my old life, the one on the right is me in my new creation :) God bless all of you, thank you for reading this far 💕💖

[queenofallwitches]

Why I hate people who spend their adult life arguing online;

1. Well it’s juvenile , I personally prefer to leave any and all pseudo intellectual social discourse in my 6th grade debating class...

2. You aren’t anyone important and not saying novel things, you are using people who have put information that is novel and trying to spin it into your own agenda.

3. Waste of time, fools will be foolish, and if you enjoy the discourse, toastmasters or academic debating would be more productive uses of time

4. You lack self insight

5. You are self aware and doing it due to your own egotistical, sadistic, cunning desires. (Trolls, deep fakes)

Why I never take anyone who loves to argue on menial topics seriously: (spiritually or mentally)

I am high iq and high eq. I am also “attractive by the conventional measures of society” I deal with the most pathetic and malicious idiots who cannot understand a woman who has aesthetic appeal, that can also hold a stimulating and intelligent conversation.

I don’t argue. I problem solve. Arguing online was faded out when I was 14 years old.

But people who are almost 40, ar still out there pretending that they are the most unique and authoritative source of blogging bullshit. When the world media and journalism is where we are today. The academic literature speaks a plethora more than an adult in the hamster wheel, unable to see they are playing checkers in a left vs right, design by social engineering and the think tanks of Tavistock, you play the part they put you to be.

A dialectic of irrational and repetitive arguments is never productive.

It lacks a solution or a higher order of resolution, why are you behaving to destroy when you are claiming to want to create a world better?

So unconscious and unexplained lack of self awareness in adults who are obviously insecure and ignorant becomes old quick.

I comprehend why it’s important but the level of the argument is basic, and been recycled 1000000 times.

Why am I writing this? Free speech is not free. If you can discourse over the same shit and never find a solution you are part of the same fucking problem.

How I know?

Life experience. Learning.

Love of learning and living and devouring the higher level of what if, how can we, let’s move into a better solution.

I have many years of experience that is beyond the understanding of most people and I have gone through things nobody understands.

One time I was a young teen, but was already too smart, too sassy, too aware and that left my life a wreck after I went too far.

I DID get expelled in the 11th grade. I’m no idiot, I am actually genius, by measures of conventional iq.

So I was academically talented without effort, not to boast, because I hated being smart.

But I did get the internet social discourse I needed to say; on things that we should be all knowing are social engineering in a designed dichotomy to divide and conquer.

I was in a program in high school called cum laude. I cannot recall the meaning. But we were advanced academics, not only skilled at learning but sports, extra curricular things like musicals, choir, crusade survivor camps (duke of Edinburgh), debating, tutoring/mentoring younger students & more. I won many awards without trying. Mostly for geography (social science), design tech, visual art & creative writing. I was learning university level things in year 8. And examining and analysis to debate in scholarly discourse about topics that were familiar when I was in 1-2 year of my bachelor degree. An example is philosophy, as this was mandated in the GT program. Smart is my sense of knowing how to balance the logical and the emotional. This is ONE percent of my life but one I did not follow through on and as a result I walk this path now, and I put up with the educated and intelligent “idiots” (like conformity, bullying, bitching kids in the same class) and refuse to stoop to low iq, low eq and low level idiots.

You waste time. I am not saying I am only exclusive to educated or academic professionals, that is not what this is about. This is about me being underestimated and undermined and never taken seriously because I get the most inhuman torment if I do start to speak my truth.

Lucky I found comfort in solitary rebellion. So. Let’s see what I am that is always going to be a work in progress but what my enemies forget all the time.

To remind you:

I am a born, intuitive empath, psychic and ancestral lineages of many esoteric paths play into my natural ability. I used to hate feeling, knowing and perceiving things that I could see happening, in my dreams, visions and “gnosis” before they happened. I felt powerless.

But now I know how to harness it, things change.

And yet still I have to sit back and observe, as I did for years in school, and then in the fucking shithole employment situation that was my consequence of 2 expulsions from schools. (They value conformity over fucking intelligence) I had a gang of kids in my last high school sign a petition to have me expelled and that is one example of how people in my life come to attack, hate, misunderstand and spit venom for no reason.

I never push that energy myself. But I call things as I see them. I am real , and my perception is primed to pierce the veil on those who lack authenticity, who are bullies, cunning, cruel, conformists, deep fakes, fraudulent, following orders for the sake of fear, or just narcissistic or psychopathic “organic portals” who carry out the agenda for the black lodge.

I have no issue if these people want to live a life away from me and what I protect. But when my sphere is crossed into on a repeated basis, I will study the situation in silence. I won’t speak of what I see, without objective and subjective factors weighed in a careful, cautious but not closed minded, way. See you and I are probably not the same because I’m the kind of human who always gives people the benefit of the doubt and believes that people are better, that is my detriment and my strength. I see the good and hope that others carry a genuine heart and soul. But my experience shows me that I am not wrong when I feel off, or intuitive feelings are ignored due to my “dismissal”.

When I find the truth, I always say, I knew I needed to listen to my heart and head.

That’s why I can never be broken, or betrayed, or backstabbed worse than before. It is always a learning lesson I am open to growing from.

I am always open to being wrong, or told how to be better, my flaws are on open display and I am not scared of that. I want to be more helpful to grow and nourish the people and places I interact with.

In my world, arguing online was a dying medium by my 18th birthday. For many reasons. But the enemy is a sucker for this divide and conquer, drama bred social and political bullshit that’s all just opinion and speculation. It creates a negative tone and teaches nothing of novelty or wisdom. It just shows how weak, insecure, paranoid, and self obsessed people who are too old for the high school bullshit, by miles, are. my enemies could even spit out the first longing to follow the death cult of the black lodge, I was already aware of what 95 % of you found out in 2020. I don’t mean to be pretentious or pompous, I’m not. I’m actually the most passionate, loving and open minded human I know. But the people who come into my spaces to play to prey. Imposters and the immoral, A siphoning sickness in a role to ruin, how could anyone do that but someone who is a soul-devoid parasite? That’s real fucking discourse. Let’s talk about morality, moral principles and how they are applied and actualised into the metacogition of your own microcosm.

Suggestions and solutions?

How about discourse on the metaphysics of mystic, magick, the mind and the method to mend the mundane world into a manifestation where a symbiotic system of mutually beneficial prosperity, peace, collaboration, creation & harmony can be lived on a daily basis?

How about solutions and sitting with your own shadow in the darkness to see your flaws.

how they only give me a free pass to watch the shit show. when push comes to shove and patterns that are seen in your behaviour, cyclically, are the key that unlocks the truth of anyone’s hidden motivation.

Why is deception and destruction never noted by the deceived, unless someone like me comes to break the wall of ignorance to say “hey this is the truth and it hurts and looks vile but fucking wake up”. No I don’t like the ripple impact this has but at the same time I am aw woman of strength. I will stand up for the real, authentic and genuine truth and speak my mind.

I don’t sugar coat this bullshit.

Nor will I indulge it.

Let alone be a person who lets it seep it’s tendrils into my life and what I love.

Not ever. Never.

As someone wise once said “despair ends, tactics begin”

You cannot claim any authentic path without putting your soul, blood and spirit to the test of facing your demons, slaying the darkness. I am not sure that comes with what I and others see these action and behaviour presenting to be.

I rarely write things like this, and only want to address this because i walk on a path of “rose and thorn”. My thorn will eventually slay whatever is a threat, a charlatan or a sheep in wolves clothing. By accident. Because what you are lacking is always looking to attack, I am always having to protect and defend my life from the evil.

I see you. I know the hidden hand x64. I am always open to forgiving people if they are sincere but will play reflection of the adverse if passive people are coming to what to me, is a beautiful and amazing thing, and to be acting as agents of sabotage? Shame on your lack of soul, and it’s lack of seeking to steal, stain and shit all over the things of substance, spirituality and sincerity will always be seen when I am the seer seeing the undertones.

So where is the moral compass?

Find yourself, and then you can find something real that is yours to be into and love. Maybe even this. But to fuck with what is real, while being fake, and following orders, is by far, fence sitting and fraudulent, insidious & infantile activity. Why not spend time looking inside to see why you are following this order from who for what? What is your genuine purpose? Soul mission? Higher self ? Or are you all still stuck in the love is the law is the law love under the will of the guy who wrote a book last century.

Fucking even Crowley lived his great work, and he has flaws and did things many would dispute to be “evil”. But he didn’t copy another clone from 100 years prior, following the mantra that someone else made up. That’s the stupid thing, the whole “do what thou wilt” was not do what you want but that is not a strong point for the sheep of the worst. I know as I see both sides, and as a child in the 90s I saw the dark, evil and insidious. To see that again, here, 3 decades later, playing coy but really carrying rancid intent.. is my call to commune what many will never see, because you all are complicit, and tell these fucking lies and divert productive progress by your stupid discourse. These people LOVE senseless debating. Semantics. Solutions, self awareness or seek a soul inside the empty cavern that the black lodge will set inside your sadistic serpentine, slimy soul.

[enzo-zzz]

A vent on the fandom + cg

If you dont wanna hear any negativity, please just ignore this post. It includes dissatisfication on the yttd fandom and ongoing belief in it. I'm not going to use very kind words here, so just ignore this post. 3b spoilers included.

I like yttd so much, but the english fandom, i cannot interact because how toxic it is. Even the smallest different of which route you choose, will attract anyone to abuse, harrass, ridicule or humiliate you. And to be truth, there are many of them who are so judgemental, to the point that there is only one thing that are right and the other are wrong. Black and white mindset. The term "canon route" is what fans created itself. I guess there are many of them who are teens or kids, since most of kids who havent grown up yet tend to lean towards black and white mindset, even if they believe they are not. If you find people who keep arguing especially on social media, you can bet that its teens. Adult are too tired to involve in things like fighting with strangers. There is one time when the poll asked your age and the age range quite small to teens age. I guess thats why i think so.

OTHER THAN THAT, THERE'S ONE THING I'M ANNOYED WITH. ABOUT THE CG AND HOW THE FANDOM DECIDES THAT THE MORE CGS, THE MORE CANON IT IS. To be perfectly honest, i'm the one who came up with the analysis that on certain route 2-2 ending the cg is more. But people really use it the wrong way and now thought that anything that has more cg is the canon route. The word canon route is wrong in itself, who tf come up with the term canon route in yttd? Is the reason for creating two route is for one to be canon only, or for sparing different characters, or for having different storyline? (I personally think that on different route, the story will change and the ones who got to live at last is probably different ). Now i see those who misuse that information everywhere. "In sou route 2-2 ending evil joe AI dont even have new cg but in kanna route he has. See how biased the devs are? he should have drawn more if he really meant the route to be the canon one. Kanna route will get happy ending, sou route is bad ending." I think thats stupid. B*tch, he keep reusing his old art here and there. You can check for yourself. Joe and midori has same hand based on the cg? He's just reusing the hand art. The arm in 3b and 1-1 is the same arm he reuse. Sou and kanna 2-2 ending basically use the same sou drawing, he just changed it a bit. Sara in 2-2 kanna ending use the same cg as when keiji try to calm her in front of computer, he just changed the face. Midori and sara on the 3b game screen cg basically use the same cg in the 3b content, but changed a bit. So i can think why need to create new cg when joe is still malicious as the hallucination in 2-2 sou ending? If i want to create something i will also reuse this to save my time.

So if you wanna really use this cg argument, then maybe you can consider why alice memory game got so many more cg than reko's? and how ranmaru gone insane has so many new sprite and pose with the hair like that. And why when dummy is dead they got cg's. Especially the ranmaru dying one, he got moving cg's and how it was put more effort into that. Then that means dummy dying is actually the canon route since when they alive they got no addtional cg? This is my assumption, but i think the devs just do as many cg as it takes depends on how impactful the scene he's working on, not because its canon, thats really a lazy take if he is actually unwilling to do extra route but still forcing himself to do it anyway. Imagine if dummy is dying but no cg, instead a message " ranmaru/mai/anzu died ". Do you think that will really give impact to you? This game clearly hinting that joe is going to be the spotlight of the game, even in 3b. So when sou set the real joe ai in kanna route for sara, the script is written for the real joe to genuinely react to sara. of course thats going to be heartwrenching since joe himself is the very important part of sara's life. When the script is made that way, lacking of cgs will hamper down the storytelling nankidai genuinely want to deliver. All i can say is it come from the heart of the author himself. If it is just only text for something as tearful as that moment and no cgs, it wont really touch the feeling isnt it? It is the same with alice memory game that tells about how alice "kill" midori. I'm not sure how many it is but atleast there is 3 cgs with one of them has variant. The story of how alice kill midori is also important and should have impact, thus the extra CG's. I can say its about being passionate and indulged in the storytelling.

I dont even know if joe will ever heal sara in sou route, but based on how the story still keep joe relevant til the end, then there must be something that need to happen between them in the end right? Nankidai even made sure that sara see the dog keychain in 3a if player probably choose to not ask gin about the dog keychain he's hiding in ch 2. Its also for relating ranmaru and joe. Having closure or conclusion with joe in the middle of game is still valid, and having a closure with joe at the end of the game is still valid. Imo, having closure with joe at the end of the game after all of those suffering involving him makes the better climax or impact for sara chara development since the game build up to highlight joe and mr. Policeman, it can be even better if all of it are to be pull together in the ending.

Even if the devs has route he prefer, he's not abandoning any route he less prefer, only if its true that he ever have a route he prefer. Plus you dont know which route he's prefer if any. He's taking his work seriously, it just some "fans" looking down on him, even to the point calling him biased, he's punishing the one who take another route, treating like he only use his career for egostatiscal reason (it somehow clearly mirrors that you are the one who egostatiscal to the point of wanting to find any excuse to punish other, you just using the devs name to validate your mindset). If he's dislike people who chose that route that much, then why create that route? If he know its tiring to make alternate route, then why still make the choice to let 3 dummy alive route at the end? It will make more work. I can only assume its out of passion, or just that he deep down wants the character to be alive atleast in a route ( idk if this is correct, i just read google translated version of his public fanbox that he's actually very reluctant at first when the time comes and "crying" so hard when he had to kill joe in chapter 1. So the part where he wants to spare some character is only my assumption ). By this punishing logic, shouldnt he not make alice die when you push reko ai to spare gin, and only do it to those who dont push the ai to save gin by killing real reko? I am more sure that the variants is to tell a different story or who to spare, and specifically for who sara actually was.

Happy endings? I'm not sure. I've expected that once from story with a lot of deaths, wishing for atleast the protagonists alive. Anime or story with a lot of death is definitely my jam, but from what i see, most of them has bittersweet ending, it depends on how the author wants it to be. Some author dont mind killing them all till the end, and some author just easily kill them all because they plan to revive them later. And everyone sense is different. Some japanese people sense in storytelling is a bit different imo. As the one being the audience, happy endings is the most common wish the audience wants. But its all up to the sense of the author. This is why i'm annoyed with some kids from overseas who rarely watch or play many things that involves a lot of death from japan suddenly says that this "one happy ending, this one bad ending! Everyone will survive in this route, everyone dead in this route"

Just play any route you like, nothing wrong with that. Whats wrong is to start this war of ridiculing others or have that irritating attitude towards those who play their own first route and start bad mouthing or desperately throwing bad assumption that one route will end very bad just for the sake of feeling better for your choice and to scare others.You do know that when you read a book, you'll only know if the overall story is good or bad until you know the ending right? The ending will conclude everything that happened. What happening in the fandom is now like, you only read 3/4 of the book and already expecting that this one will have good ending and bad ending. What if its not about the binary, but for the difference in direction? Its not that bad if the story of the book is kinda predictable, but with how plot twists become the main part of yttd's charm, its getting more difficult to predict how it will end. There's a lot of story which was masterpiece in every part as seen by fans, until the ending hits. Its what the author wants, but its not what the fans wants.

If you pick fights with others, even passively, the consequence is all on you. Good luck taking care of your mess.

Thats why i'm reluctant to publish any theory because the fandom will always use it as an excuse to pick fights with other and say " i'm more right bcs i got this proof" . U see in my caption i dont want any of those harasser to even digest my theory. If you are one of them get out of my blog.

[darknessofbnha]

I’m coming

Requested by @todogirl707​ “ Hi! I just stumbled across your blog and I already love it 💞💕uhm the bio said requests were open so if it’s not too much to ask could you please do a scenario fic with todoroki shoto where the reader gets kidnapped ? And then he has to save her? Or something like that ? Again if this is too much feel free to ignore it

Thank you so much for the request and I’m glad you like my works! I hope I won’t disappoint you! 💞💕 

I’ll take the chance to tell you guys that I’m working on the requests. Don’t worry. I just had finals, and still have them, which is why it’s taking time ^^; I don’t think I’ll be refusing requests (unless I’m inexperienced on the topic or extra uncomfortable) so don’t be afraid to go wild haha~ 

Word Count: 2247 Warnings: kidnapping; blood; gore Pairing: Todoroki x Reader

Feedback is deeply appreciated~!

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He would never forget when it happened. The memories wouldn’t even leave him to dream peacefully. They would come crawling and wake him in cold sweat with a shout stuck in his throat.

You were someone he held dear. You had been there for him when he needed support. Never mind how many times he refused, how cold he used to be, you never left his side and stubbornly clung to him. You had overheard his story during his confrontation with Midoriya at the Sports Festival and you weren’t afraid to tell him after it was all over and to once again offer him your support and friendship. He was grateful and before long, his feelings manifested into love. He loved you unconditionally. He didn’t know how to express himself though.

When you got burnt by Dabi while your little group was trying to save Bakugou and Tokoyami during the Training Camp incident, he got so angry with both the villain and himself for not confessing his feelings earlier. The thought of something happening to you and him not being able to tell you that he loved you scared him. So during that night, at the hospital, he held your hand, as you struggled to not fall asleep due to exhaustion, and confessed. It was awkward but also cute and it made you smile and laugh which was more than enough for him. He was happy that he made you happy. And that’s how you started dating.

Everything was so perfect when you moved into the dorms and you two got to spend every minute together.

But the Universe always has to put people through challenges. To test them. And it happened so suddenly that it took your breath away and swept you off your feet.

The news had been blasting about a dangerous villain who managed to kidnap people easily. Nobody knew how or what Quirk he had and it was causing big trouble. What was even more troublesome was that his victims were very young girls, obviously virgins. Rumors were that he was a crazy Satanist using virgin blood to summon demons. Perhaps a bit farfetched but it wouldn’t be surprising if it was the truth considering that the world was full with insane psychopaths.

Your Quirk was powerful – very powerful. It allowed you to manipulate earth and Kirishima often joked and compared you to Toph. Speaking of Kirishima, you were very good friends. Your quirks were compatible as well. He was the best defense and you were the best offense. That’s why the two of you decided to intern together, choosing Fatgum.

“Hey kiddos, what do you say we go out tonight and eat some takoyaki?” grinned the hero and you and Kirishima nodded vigorously while Tamaki only smiled softly in agreement. And the four of you ended up walking and chatting while eating, inhaling the aroma of the street food and absorbing the lively atmosphere. Even though it was night time there were many people out.

“Oh, I’ll go buy some ice cream!” you exclaimed when your eyes landed on the colorful, creamy texture of the ice cream and the boys nodded, telling you their favorite flavors.

“Why don’t you guys go buy some waffles and other sweet things while I get your ice creams? I’m dying for sweets tonight,” you offered and they laughed before walking away. And that’s when you heard it – the most melodic, soothing and beautiful voice.

“Beautiful, sweet girl, come to me,” it swayed on the wind and tickled your ears, beckoning you to follow it. And you did.

“Hey, little lady, where are you going? I’m still not finished with your ice cream!” exclaimed the seller but his voice got drowned. Everything got drowned, fading in the background in the shape of a dull lull as your brain concentrated only on the man calling you.

“There you are. I knew you would come,” came in the voice from your right and you slowly turned your head to look at the man. He was young, tall, very handsome with his sun-kissed skin and light blue hair tied in a low ponytail. Even under the fancy suit the muscles were visible.

Your legs moved on their own. You weren’t sure if you even felt your body at this point. You were completely entranced. You came to stand right in front of him, leaning your head on his chest and closing your eyes, allowing yourself to sink into him when his arms encircled you.

“What a good girl. No resisting whatsoever,” he chuckled and it sent pleasant shivers down your spine.

“Let’s go home.”

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“What do you mean gone?” whispered Shouto and Kirishima sniffed, looking at the ground. “What do you mean gone, Kirishima!?” shouted the boy this time and the redhead grit his teeth, letting the tears fall.

“I-I don’t know! She was with us a-and a few seconds later s-she was just gone!”

When they had returned to the ice cream parlor, you were gone. They had asked the seller but he had been able to only point at the direction you had gone towards. They had run immediately but there had been no sight or sound from you. Nothing.  They had immediately contacted the police. By now it was obvious that you had been kidnapped by the same villain that was terrorizing the town.

Shouto was numb. He stared at his classmate before his eyes moved to the floor, hands clenching so hard that his nails dug into his skin, forming crescents that bled. He was both freezing with fear and burning with anger.

“I have to find her,” he muttered but when he tried to pass through Kirishima, the boy stopped him.

“Are you out of your mind? You can’t do anything! Nobody can! Because no one knows anything about this villain!” cried out the redhead and Todoroki grit his teeth.

“Move,” he grit out as he attempted to pass but Kirishima held him again.

“Todoroki!” before he could say anything else, Shouto threw him the iciest glare. Kirishima and the others, who had been watching the display with tears in their eyes and shaking forms, didn’t even have time to be shocked when Todoroki encased all of their feet in ice.

“That’s not cool, man!”

“Don’t do that, Todoroki-san! It’s dangerous to go out!”

Their shouts fell on deaf ears because at the moment, Shouto’s mind was clouded with the thoughts of finding you and killing the bastard who took you.

He barely got past Aizawa and the Hound, leaving UA grounds and going to the place where everything happened. He narrowed his eyes as he rattled his brain about the possibilities of this villain’s quirk.

“What do you have so far?” he asked himself quietly as his brain brought up all the news he had read so far. Many of the cases were mysterious because nobody was there to see what happened. But there were a few cases when there were witnesses and all reports stated that the girls were going on about their day when all of the sudden they stopped and switched directions, walking towards something or someone as if in a trance. From what the ice cream man had told Kirishima, you had reacted the same way.

“Walking towards the source as if in a trance, huh? Is it like Shinsou’s Quirk then? Mind control?” he mused, rubbing his chin. “But if it was mind control there should’ve been some form of contact. She was surrounded by crowd. What kind of contact can one create in a crowded area. Even if his quirk doesn’t require an answer like Shinsou’s, or eye contact like Aizawa-sensei’s, there still should be some sort of cont-“ he gasped lightly. But of course. It has to be his voice. His right side grew colder and colder, frost seeping from his feet, covering the ground gently and baring footprints.

“Hold on a bit more, Y/N. I’m coming,” he vowed quietly, cold, smoky breath sipping through his lips.

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You hissed, the stinging pain causing you discomfort. It was one thing getting hurt while fighting because the adrenaline was not letting you experience the pain, at least at the beginning, and completely another when someone was slicing at your body with a blade.

“That’s right, princess. Bleed some more for daddy,” he smirked, licking his lips impatiently as he squeezed your wrist, causing the blood to flow harder and making you feel dizzy. How much did he bleed you? Two, three, five times? You didn’t know. But he made sure to do it often because you couldn’t use your quirk in such condition. That and it gave him immense pleasure. You couldn’t understand him. Did he enjoy drinking blood? Was he offering it as a sacrifice? Was it part of his quirk or something? At this point you didn’t care. You knew that you were going to die. Nobody knew anything about this villain. There were only speculations about his quirk. No one would walk through these enormous mahogany doors and put an end to this.

“We’ll continue later. I have something else to do now,” he grinned at you as he left the golden goblet on the cabinet next to you before he moved to the bed and laid down next to what you assumed was a girl. You willed your vision to clear. Yes, it was a girl – probably his previous victim – and she was dead, chest torn open as if the bloody eagle was performed on her, drenching the sheets in red.

“Isn’t blood beautiful? Don’t you want to be surrounded by it all the time?” he asked you and you barely managed to shake your head, a scream of horror trapped in your vocal cords. “Don’t worry your pretty little Y/H/C head. You’ll be joining her soon,” he laughed and a tear slid down your cheek.

And at this moment, the doors burst open, getting completely shattered by sharp shards of ice. Splinters showered the occupants of the room, causing the man to shout enraged.

“Who has the audacity-“ he didn’t get to finish because more ice came towards him. The man evaded gracefully to the left, only to be engulfed in flames, making him scream. Before he could get serious burns, the flames were extinguished and he was quickly encased in ice from head to toe.

“Shouto,” you whimpered and smiled shakily. The boy’s head snapped, eyes widening. He had been so insanely worried but thankfully you seemed to be alright. When he actually reached you and took a good look at you, he realized that, no, you weren’t really ok. You were covered in slices and bleeding. He saw red. He twirled sharply, fully ready to shatter the ice alongside the person trapped in it when your voice stopped him.

“Please, Shouto! It’s not worth it! Don’t put a bad name for yourself before your career has even started!” you pleaded and he gulped, lowering his hand and turning to look back at you. You shot him an encouraging smile, trying to signal him that you were alright. He didn’t say anything as he burned the ropes and scooped you up in his arms. The police and other pro heroes were swarming the place for investigation and arresting the villain. Shouto was angry with himself for taking so long to notify the police of what he found and to formulate a plan. And you could see that he was blaming himself, that he was angry and disappointed with himself. You wouldn’t have that.

“Hey, look at me,” you whispered as you cupped his cheek. That made him stop. The two of you were far from the beeping sirens and the bustling cops. “I’m ok. Nothing happened to me. Just a couple of cuts that Recovery Girl can heal. You did well, Shouto. You saved me. You are my hero,” you told him gently as you snuggled into his chest, hearing his rapid heartbeat that was slowly beginning to calm down. He pressed a kiss to your temple and tightened his hold on you.

“I’ll never let anything happen to you again. I promise,” he murmured and you encircled your arms around his neck, bringing him closer and kissing him on the cheek.

“I’ve no doubt.”

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You were accepted with happy cheers and a cake from your classmates. They literally threw you a party and it made you so happy. They were truly a blessing. Poor Kirishima blamed himself and you had to smack him over the head a few times to get it through his thick skull that he was not to blame.

It was the first few nights that were the problem. The very first night, you had a nightmare and you snuck into Shouto’s room. He had had a nightmare too and gladly accepted you into his embrace.

“I can’t get this girl out of my head. That was… the most horrifying scene I’ve seen. I dream of myself in her stead,” you sniffed and Shouto hugged you tightly as if imagining you melting into his embrace so he could protect you from the world.

“I dream the same,” he admitted quietly and you looked him deeply in the eyes.

“We are going to be ok. As long as we are together, it’s going to be ok,” you whispered hopefully and he gave you a smile – that little pretty smile he had reserved only for you.

“Together then.”