#who can simply read backwards what is being said and understand
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My bestie said this was a good idea, so now I'm sharing.
I started a Hobbit fic the other day, and liked the idea of having a language barrier between the insert and the world at large (Middle Earth, minus the Maiar, b/c of Reasons).
Rather then create an entirely different language (perhaps later, but I already have more then eight tabs open for this fic at a time), I decided to be lazy...and just flip the dialogue of the insert.
"There was a hole in the earth, Bilbo" becomes "Htrae eht ni eloh a saw ereht, Bilbo." Proper nouns remain the same, they are not reversed and will appear in the text where they are meant to in the mind of the insert. If the insert wants, they can spell out words, letter by letter, and the listener can piece those together.
Bless websites like ReverseTextGenerator.
#personal#i thought about doing a da Vinci and mirroring the text#but this appears easier for the reader#who can simply read backwards what is being said and understand#this eliminates the need for hover over or end chapter translations#at least in the case of the insert's English#I'm still working on their accent#like#What could an American's accent#and American who's primary language is English#be compared to??#correction#an American who's primary language is English but also! whatever they say is reversed
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Hey Dove~
I was reading through the different headcannons and the mute reader really caught my attention. Could you possibly do the Vice Wardens (including Ruggie cuz he's basically second in command anyway) with Yuu that has a speech impediment? Basically they stutter/stumble on words, get them mixed up, pronounces them wrong, and maybe forgets certain words. And obviously with new arcana and magical words (and the weird ahh names some of these characters have) they can get pretty frusterated or embarressed.
You always have such good headcannons!! Feel free to throw in any other characters that you like to the mix as well!!
OH this hits close to home too. I stutter and mispronounce things when I do speak, so I'm using that for reference
twst x mute reader
*à©â©â§âË reader with a speech impediment
summary: as described type of post: headcanons characters: trey, ruggie, jade, jamil, rook, lilia additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu
see, I don't think Trey would say anything about it
he's not one to criticize strangeness
that would be rude, first of all
second of all, there's no such thing as "normal" at NRC
(even so, some people may point it out, but he's not one of them)
he doesn't have any trouble understanding you, either
he grew up with younger siblings who pronounced owl as "awa" and kitty as "shishi" until they were six
he's certainly patient
and he knows how to use context
*à©â©â§âË
honestly? Ruggie didn't even... notice?
for a while, he just thought you talked fast
he knows how it goes; you get excited or nervous or whatever, and you end up stumbling all over yourself
no biggie
then one day you come up to him all sad and teary, apologizing for a speech impediment he didn't even know you had, and he's like...
...oh! no!
of course he's not annoyed!
Ruggie's an adaptive guy, after all. when he wants something, he'll bend backwards for it
you think a little stuttering is gonna stop him from being friends with you?
*à©â©â§âË
much like Trey, Jade doesn't say anything
he just watches you talk
and smiles
like this -> :)
it's not that he's particularly concerned about being rude, he's just...
observing
humans are such fascinating creatures, he thinks
he learns all of your quirks just by listening to you
which words you have trouble with, which ones you mix up and forget, which consonants you stumble over...
he teaches himself your language
and he becomes a sort of translator for you
any time someone is rude to you, he'll come out of nowhere and tell them everything you said in the exact order you said it
weird, but nice
*à©â©â§âË
to put it plainly, Jamil has bigger problems
whether or not he can understand you doesn't really matter to him
it's not his job to worry over you
then, you come to him asking for help, and...
...well, he's flattered
he can't deny he likes that you come to him for guidance before anyone else
because of this, (and because he had to learn how to control his own tongue when he was little), he takes pity on you
whether your goal is to work on your speech, or to simply feel less anxiety about it, he's there
*à©â©â§âË
is it cliche to say that Rook already knows exactly what you're thinking?
perhaps, but it's true
he's mastered the art of observation
he can read your thoughts in your expression, your body language, even the slightest twitch in your lips gives you away
he just knows
you don't have to be a good speaker, or a speaker at all, to communicate with Rook
(and he can do all the talking for you if you'd like, he'd probably enjoy that)
and, of course, he is of the opinion that there is beauty in everything
you don't need to be perfectly clear and concise for him to like you
*à©â©â§âË
now, I can't guarantee that Lilia won't tease a little
only in good fun, of course
and only if you respond in kind
but he does find it rather cute when you mispronounce something, or mix up your words
he won't correct you or interrupt you, either
he'll step in to help if you're really struggling, of course, but he thinks of you as capable
he does remind you to take breathers when you're getting too anxious about it, though
he cares <3
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#queued#trey clover x reader#ruggie bucchi x reader#jade leech x reader#jamil viper x reader#rook hunt x reader#lilia vanrouge x reader
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Making sense of love for love's sake: the game
Despite all the things i absolutely adore about how the plot unravels and expands in love by love's sake, upon first watch, there's some things i couldn't piece together, which @lurkingshan echoes in their post:
'The way the author was messing with Myungha and forcing cruel choices on him really does not track with a desire to help him find happiness.'
And to preface, this is not something i fully get yet either. I think i'll need a good month and a sizeable reading list of relevant resources to understand just what/who this author/sunbae is and what his role is and how he is associated with myungha. But as always with the best shows for meta (aka bad buddy), as a plot unfolds, you can always find a better understanding by looking backwards and re-contextualising what you've already seen. so i watched ep 1, specifically the scene between myungha and his sunbae at the bar. And i will talk about how everything said in this scene has a whole new meaning now we know the full story, but for now i wanna focus on that question that they keep coming back to; "Then... will you change it for him?".
When you watch the show for the first time, your brain follows the simplest, most obvious version of the story you're being told, one where myungha has been pulled into the world of his sunbae's novel that's being turned into a game and given the opportunity to fix the thing he didn't like about it; making yeowoon happy, and thus you just think the rules of the game are imposed by the author, and so when these cruel choices first come up, you see them as the difficult roadblocks that are nevertheless necessary to any kind of game, forcing the player to make an impossible choice so that the game can continue in a certain direction and its only after that you learn whether it was the right choice or not, or there is no right choice, it simply changes the game you are playing.
And when its revealed what this game actually is, at first i tried to interpret these cruel choices, namely the choice between yeonwoon and myungha's grandma, and at best i could come up with the concept of this being a choice between staying stuck to the past aka choosing his grandma, even though he knows that choice doesn't mean she's safe bc he knows the future where he loses here, its an inevitability, but thats the small happiness he knew before it was taken away and thus that happiness is known and safe, theres no risk, versus choosing to pursue a new happiness, a love of yeowoon and thus himself, which he doesn't know, he hasn't experienced yet, and could be risky. Its a happiness that isn't guaranteed like his grandma, but its a happiness that looks to the future and has hope in it that he can find a new happiness to pursue despite what has happened in his past.
And that fits nice, okayish. But then i watched ep 1 and heard that question "Then... will you change it for him?" And watching through the rest of the eps, we come back to this scene at the bar and each time we get a new run up to the author asking this question, either new dialogue is added or we hear a different piece of the conversation entirely. It starts at the beginning of ep 1 as:
"Because Cha Yeowoon is the only one who's miserable." "It can't be helped that some people's lives are like that" "The fact that some people are destined to live that kind of life is what's vile."
Then a bit later in ep 1 we go back and its expanded.
"It can't be helped that some people's lives are like that" "The fact that some people are destined to live that kind of life is what's vile." "Why? Do you think you'd write it differently?" "Yes, definately. Someone like Cha Yeowoon, or someone like me with an awful life, can also be happy."
And then all the way on in ep 6, we get this new dialogue.
"I don't like talking about destiny." "Why?" "Because it means everything is predestined." "Then do you not believe in fate?" "Fate and destiny are the same. My grandma likes to say that. She said life is like a written book, and how you'll live and die are written in it. (...)I don't like things like this. Even if fate is already destined, I think it can still be changed. Otherwise, there's no point in trying." "Really? Then Myungha..."
And while we don't hear the author ask the same question, I feel like him getting cut off like that insinuates that the conversation leads to that same ending point. All that is to say, every time we hear this question being asked, its like we learn more and more about what this whole thing is, what the game is, what myungha is saying he will do by agreeing to do what the author asks. And every time, we see myungha being more defiant against the idea of yeowoon being resigned to his miserable ending. He starts off thinking that kind of life is destined, and while it's miserable, its not something he can fight. Then he says he'd want to write the story differently, bc yeowoon, or even him, could be happy. He challenges the idea that yeowoon, and thus himself, is fated to be miserable, and opens up the possibility for happiness for them both, but doesn't yet have the means or resolve to do it, its like he knows its possible on a fundamental level, but doesn't see it as something he can actually achieve. But then we circle back to the idea of destiny and books, both of which came up in the previous quote, and seems incredibly pertinent seen as this whole thing is about a novel this author has written. Myungha talks about how he hates the idea that life is a book where everything written is predestined to happen, from the moment you live to the moment you die. He says "Even if fate is already destined, I think it can still be changed. Otherwise, there's no point in trying." That vile way of life he described before that he said was destined, he is now saying it can be changed, and that possibility is now something he's holding onto, its what he sees hope in so that he can keep trying, bc now he finally is trying, he has the resolve, he's trying to realise this thing, this impossibility of rewriting the life he thought was destined through the way he loves yeowoon.
And coming back to those cruel choices, given this fresh context, it made me think. bc this isn't actually a game that myungha has been put into where the rules are dictated by an author completely separate from him. He said himself, he'd rewrite it, he'd change things for yeowoon. And when you start to think of it less as him fighting against a rigid, removed system and more like him being a character in a story he is trying to rewrite himself, that has both the author and his own limitations, or just his own if you're in the school of thought that the author is some figment or part of myungha himself or his conciousness, then you can start to see where these cruel choices might come from. They could be myungha, the author making edits to this new story, imposing his own doubts and limitations on himself. When he says he has to pick between Yeowoon and his grandma, what if that's the new author myungha seeing this story unfold and thinking no this isn't right, he can't have it all, i'm not deserving of this much happiness.
And what makes me like this idea even more is that when we get that second choice between ending after 14 days or getting 100 days back at the cost of resetting Yeowoon's affection to 0, that whole conversation happens in what I think the bar actually is which is this frozen moment in time where myungha is in the water with this extension of a voice in his head that is talking through these things. That conversation in itself needs its own post, but when you look at it both as a decision to break up or not or a decision to hold onto life or not, you can see how the author is just this soundboard relaying the decisions myungha is going through in his head. The author's voice is his own, weighing up his decisions. And if he is the author here, it only reinforces that the person making the rules of this game is him. You can even extend it further to the idea of the debuffs, where he puts in place this thing that makes it so he causes harm to yeowoon when he's around, and its only by garnering affection that he can prevent it. He gives himself a reason from the get go to stay away from yeowoon and reason it as him doing it for yeowoon's safety, when in fact the only way to make yeowoon safe is to increase his affection, which he can only do by being near him. Its a system that at first gives myungha a reason to stay away aka not like himself, but ultimately says the only way you're going to make yeowoon like you, or the only way you can like yourself, is if you accept risk. And that in itself screams to me of a myungha writing in these game systems that are trying to encourage his own-self love while falling at the hurdle of his own lack of self-worth.
The idea is still messy in my head even for me, but i just really like the idea that myungha could be trying to fix this thing both as a character and game master, and that both these versions of him have these flaws that manifest in their different ways to cause the events we see. It kinda is the definition of being your own worst enemy, the idea that in order to work towards loving yourself, the biggest obstacle you have to encounter is yourself, bc we are the ones holding ourselves back, making all these rules that make it harder to like ourselves and pursue our own happiness. The voices in our head telling us that we aren't good enough and aren't deserving are our own, and while the things that happen to us can inform what they say, we're the one's reinforcing those words. And what this show teaches us is that, if we're the one holding that pen all along, we can choose to change what those words are. If we make the rules, you don't have to create a game with concrete ultimatums, you can create a game where rules don't control you. Instead, you make the decisions, and you can make the ones that make you happy.
#wow look at me writing actual kinda thought out meta#also something something about how the pen being in his pocket wasnt a pen given to him by the author its a pen that was his the whole time#look even if this isnt the right interpretation as intended by the author i just kinda adore this headcanon ive come up with and i cant wai#to rewatch the show again through this lens and see if it holds up#i just adore the idea of this whole thing being this manifestation of a flawed doubtful person trying to navigate through their own messy#nonsensical thoughts to find their own happiness#bc yes thats what triggered me thinking of this whole thing. me seeing that post and thinking yeah that doesnt make sense7#but then again when you tell yourself things an put your own mental blocks in the way they dont make sense either but you still have to fin#the ways to work around them in order to find happiness#like those things dont go away we just find the loopholes or the ways to overcome them that mean we can be happy#the game is your own mind - deal with your own existential crisis as you wish#anyway this is only part 1 in what i hope will be a very extensive meta analysis of this show - stay tuned#love for love's sake
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henry winter as your secret boyfriend//headcannons//some sexual
he hates being late, and hates even more when you make him late.
letâs you smoke his cigarettes with no fuss.
heâs beat up a guy at a party for bumping into you once.
he knows that your smart, but refuses to admit it.
constantly tells you things in latin you donât understand.
he finds it extremely unattractive when you swear, but also a bit cute when you do it out of excitement.
he holds your hand under your desks in greek class if he thinks your having a bad day.
will often talk in french to you in front of the others if heâs trying to have a private conversation with you.
ây/n, ai-je laissĂ© ma ceinture dans ton dortoir la derniĂšre fois que je suis venu ?â âje ne sais pas Henry, tu peux vĂ©rifier ce soir lors de ta visiteâ
heâs endured many days of watching Richard flirt with you
heâs always getting mad and saying your flirting back when all your doing is being polite.
switches from english to greek when heâs speaking with you drunk, and never realizes it.
you think itâs incredibly funny
julian is the only person who knows about your relationship.
you would tell the others, if you thought it wouldnât make things super awkward.
francis walked in on you two once having a romantic dinner at henryâs apartment, but was too drunk to realize what was going on.
bunny constantly jokes about how henry canât get women to you.
when you two are alone heâs constantly holding your hand, your waist, your face, or just simply cuddling with you.
he tells you everyday that your the most beautiful woman heâs ever seen.
nsfw headcannons:
this man is a top, no doubt about it.
heâs usually gentle with you, but if you piss him off, youâre getting badly punished.
once you were acting extra bratty with him at dinner with all the others around.
you werenât allowed to cum for a week after thatđ
heâs a boob guy
if heâs feeling extra spicy, heâll play with you under the table at charles and camilas weekly dinners.
ây/n, why are you squirming so much?â âsorry camila i- *fake cough to cover up a moan* im just feeling a little hot.â
he never looks at you while heâs doing this. just continues his conversation and eats his dinner with an expressionless face.
has tied you up before and overstimulated you for hours, just because you said that he was too gentlemen like in bed.
âdo you still think iâm too much of a gentleman darling?â âoh, looks like someone canât speak. are you gonna say your safe word?â.
you never say your safe word.
he smokes and shares his cigarette with you while you two are in missionary.
missionary is his favorite position when heâs being gentle. he likes to be able to watch your face when you cum and feel you moaning into his mouth while he fucks you.
when heâs not being gentle, your legs WILL be on top of his shoulders. he likes knowing that youâre completely at his mercy and can push your legs backwards and slide you off his dick if he doesnât want you to cum.
you two used protection for the first few times you slept together, but he took you to the gynecologist and paid for you to get an implant after you both tried it raw for the once and loved it.
youâve woken up a million times to him touching you as heâs reading a book. (donât worry you talked about it before and consented to it)
he doesnât look up from his book until he feels you tightening around his fingers and knows your about to cum.
he moans especially loud when heâs drunk.
he loves to praise you.
âlook at you, taking all of me like a good girl.â âyou think you can cum for me one more time darling? ohh good job babyâ
after sex heâs always gonna fix himself, and you, a glass of scotch before getting back in bed and reading to you until you fall asleep.
#henry winter image#henry winter fanfic#henry winter#henry winter smut#henry winter headcannons#henry winter hc#the secret history smut#tsh smut#tsh#the secret history#the secret history donna tartt#donna tartt books#richard papen#camila macaulay#francis abernathy#charles macaulay#bunny corcoran#edmund corcoran
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(Sky)BoundSMP Luxtent Log
Hello! This one will be similar to my avicane log, updating semi-regularly when we learn new information. Due to how long SkyBound has been going on, I will just say this first update includes spoilers up to the lore that happened on 10/4/2024 :]
Due to this being boundsmp, TWs for this log include: mentions of human experimentation, explosions, death, blood, and other harsh topics. BoundSMP is a heavy series, so make sure you recognize that!
First off, what is Luxtent?: Luxtent is a cipher language that is used within the world of (Sky)BoundSMP. It includes sigils made by sharp, straight lines, and various characters look similar but are indeed different. This language is used to direct magic onto or into things, or to wield that magic into a different purpose (such as collecting magic into a crystal, transforming a person, creating tracking devices, writing protections, etc). Simply put, Luxtent is the language of magic. Generally it is used to cipher english (mostly by the Avicane) or latin (mostly by the Vercane). Latin luxtent is often more intention driven due to the natural variation and contextual meanings of many latin words, while English Luxtent is more clear and direct.
What is the Luxtent Alphabet? Luxtent mirrors the English alphabet, and the translation key can be found here ( https://the-bound-smp.fandom.com/wiki/Luxtent_Sigil_Language ) with a printable version here ( https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-GoWUvmUYZ4IewGkkR9hmgFdUx9Px1ckLdc01U90kPk/edit?usp=sharing ).
Here's what we know about Luxtent:
It is a cipher, not its own language
many BoundSMP characters have it written on them, including Vast, Armor, and Rune. Vast and Armor's luxtent is in English, while Rune's seems to be in Latin.
the Avicane heavily use English Luxtent, while the Vercane mainly use Latin Luxtent.
The obelisks have luxtent written on them, though it is uncertain the entire true point of said writing, as the sigils are broken by crystals.
Luxtent is not exactly written linearly, like how English is written left to right, and other languages right to left, or top to bottom, or bottom to top. Luxtent, as long as the sigils are near each other to form consistent words, can be written in any direction (except backwards, it seems), However, most luxtent writers seem to tend towards follow writing it left to right (with exceptions like Vast's back sigils)
Even in English luxtent, intention seems important. Some intentions are more clear- for example, "Sharp" is written on Armor's wrists, presumably for sharp claws. However, Vast's back sigils, "fly for those that fell" and "Worthy" being on Armor's chest have less clear meanings.
To invoke magic, luxtent generally has to use a magic-based ink, such as the rudimentary magic ink Vast created with essence powder and normal ink.
Normal materials, like cloth and leather, tend to not be able to hold magic and therefore combust. Many crystals seem to be able to be infused with magic without a problem. Rune has mentioned that cloth may need to be woven with magical essence within it to withstand the flow of magic.
Luxtent written on people forms tattoo-like markings. How painful these markings are depends on the care taken when writing them and the ink used to write them.
Transformation magic requires being able to draw on another person's magic to infuse the person being transformed with their new features. (ex: Vast and Kalia needing a Zygote crystal, formed by using a fallen Avicane- or rather failed avicane trainee- to power it. Additionally, Aloy required other avian's magic to transform Armor).
Most people cannot understand Luxtent, including most Avicane members. However, Rune is able to read and write it, as is Armor, with Vast and I believe Virgil to be learning.
Luxtent is highly dangerous, and without the proper sigils and direction of magic, can cause dangerous consequences (like literally blowing up in one's face).
Who do we know of that has Luxtent? what does it say?:
Vast has a small amount of luxtent on his back, spelling out "Fly for those that fell"
Additionally, she also has some on her hands that she wrote herself, one saying "siphon" and I believe the other one saying "release", though I may be wrong on the second one
(Both art pieces by Heyhay13)
Rune has luxtent written practically all over him- Some we know of, some we don't! However, Rune's luxtent, unlike Armor and Vast's, is all if not mostly in Latin! An example of such is "infragilis" written on his chest:
(Art by ArtfulRenegade) Armor also has luxtent all over him, which is commonly obscured by clothing. We know he has "Sharp" written on his wrist (as seen at the stream for Kalia's memorial), and "Atlas created of feather and fang" on his back.
Finally, the only other one we know (or at least I know) is "Worthy", written on Armor's chest, more over their heart.
(Both art pieces by ggAbraxas)
That's all I've got for now! Have a good day!
Day written: 10/6/24
#boundsmp#luxtentlog#boundsmplog-luxtent#skyboundsmp#skybound smp#bound smp#bound smp rune#bound smp vast#bound smp armor#armor abernathy#vast cadere#rune ventura#boundsmp avicane#boundsmp vercane
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Like a Box of Chocolates
Word Count: 2,000 (I need to rethink my definition of short.)
Summary: Your best friend invites you over for Valentine's Day. Better to be lonely together, right? || Kol x reader|| Here lies my Masterlist ||
Warnings: Absolutely none, unless you count the sort of fluff that will melt your insides.
A/N: While I work on Rational Thinking part 4, have this drabble that I wrote last year and never posted. Won't Say I'm in Love from Hercules should be playing through your head on a loop by the time this is done.
đ STORY BEGINS BELOW đ
âWhy, good afternoon, my dearest!âÂ
You would have been startled by the sudden appearance of your best friend, had you not been so used to him by now. Kol Mikaelson was a cheeky bastard and his fondness for seeing you jump had rendered his element of surprise non-existent. You rolled your eyes.Â
âHey, Kol.â Just managing to stow your books away before Kol pushed your locker shut, you re-adjusted your backpack and sent him a look. He leaned against the lockers, grinning at you as though he were simply happy to be there. The expression was bright and unusually sincere, it made you do a double take. âOh, geez - heâs happy. Thatâs just frightening. Whoâd you kill? Actually, nevermind that. What do you want from me?â You deadpanned, smirking.Â
You didnât think your best friend was capable of hurting a fly, however. True, the kid had a mischievous streak a mile long but you just couldnât understand why other students seemed so afraid of him. Kol had never been anything but nice to you since the day youâd shown him around the school. Sure, youâd watched him beat the ever-loving crap out of one of the football players when the guy had catcalled you a while back, but that had been entirely deserved. Kol was a sweet, clever kid who, though he was certainly capable of being a social butterfly, preferred the company of just one or two really good friends. You were fortunate enough to have made it onto that list - along with Jeremy Gilbert.Â
Kol huffed a laugh and slipped your bookbag off your shoulders in one smooth motion you werenât entirely sure how heâd learned to do. You would have protested, but youâd long since quit trying. The guy was a gentleman that way.
âValentines Day!â He announced as if it were obvious. He held your bag in one hand and wrapped his other arm around your shoulders.
âI think you mean -â You spread your arms wide as if presenting something to him - âSingles Awareness Day!â
Kol blinked. âHave you ever realized that the acronym for that just spells S.A.D?â
âI have indeed.â
He stared at you for a moment, then shook his head. âWhatever you call it, thatâs today,â He said, smiling to himself.
You raised a brow. What was he so happy about? âYes, I am aware it is the fourteenth day of February.â
He rolled and nudged you playfully. âJeremyâs got himself a date - I want to know what youâre doing.â
Jeremy had a date? Huh. Go Gilbert.Â
âI donât know, Kol. Youâre a smart cookie, why donât you tell me?â You said, shrugging.Â
âAlright.â He skipped ahead of you, walking backward. The boy stared at you with a mockingly contemplative look for a moment before snapping his fingers, having made his decision. âI deduce that you intend to come to my place for some friendly virtual combat, perhaps a few action movies, and the inordinate consumption of egregiously unhealthy foods.â
You tipped your head back and laughed. That kid knew you so well. âSpooky how you can read my mind like that.â
He grinned. âI am a man of many mysteries,â He declared.
âRight.â
In reality, you knew why he was inviting you over. You were his distraction and he was yours. Neither of you really liked Valentine's Day. That was one of the many things you could agree on. February fourteenth was just a painful reminder of what the both of you would never have - a meaningful and lasting relationship. Not even just a romantic one - the two of you had bonded over your bad luck with relationships in general. Between neglectful parents and - in his case - siblings, it would seem that to be loved in return was just too much for either of you to ask of the universe.Â
Friends, however - friends you could do. Friends come and go, they have no obligation to provide you with lifelong love and support. Itâs not a betrayal or a slight on their part when they fail to keep in contact after the two of you say goodbye that last time. That was how you liked it. No obligations - no contracts.
It was quite the pair the two of you made: the school F-Boy and Trust Issues Incarnate. (Yes, you were fully aware of the rom-com style clichĂ©.) Yet, however unusual it was, Kol made you happy. He was one of the very few people youâd met who didnât judge you for your bitter attitudes surrounding romance. The two of you were determined not to be sad today - there was no reason to be because you didnât care anymore, or at least, thatâs what youâd tried to convince yourselves. So even though Kol was cute - drop-dead gorgeous even - nothing was ever going to happen between you. In your experience - and youâd had quite a bit of it - there was no use in hoping otherwise. It just never led to anything good. Love wasnât in the cards for either of you. The universe had just designed things that way.Â
Valentine's Day is hard for the inherently unlovable. But youâd make do.
Kol gave you a ride from school, just like he did every day, though this time he brought you back to his apartment. Your parents wouldnât notice - they never did.
Popcorn and video games came first. You agreed on Star Wars Battlefront, challenging him to a one-on-one fight. Kol got upset that you kept beating him.Â
âIâm telling you, darling - playing as the bloody sniper is completely unfair!â
âSays the guy with the freaking gatling gun.â
âI canât even get the thing spinning up before youâve blown my head of!â
You just hummed, catching a piece of popcorn in your mouth. âThat sounds like a skill issue.â
âYou would say that⊠Cheat.â
So, you switched to Mario Kart. The two of you were pretty evenly matched until you got to Rainbow Road. Kol had been in second place the whole time then suddenly he hits the brakes and you have just enough time to wonder why the hell he would do that before your sorry ass is wiped off the map by a blue shell. Youâre not a sore loser by any means but that boy had to be the sorest winner of all time. He only shut up when you threatened to leave.Â
So you hunted down some ice cream and Kol dug through his rather impressive collection of movies for something that didnât have a romance in it.
âWhy does every decent film seem to require itâs main characterâs to make love on screen!?â Kol griped, accepting the bowl of ice cream you passed him.Â
You snorted. âDid you really just ask that question?â
âYes!â He huffed.
You flipped yourself over on the couch and propped your head up on your elbows, leaning on the armrest whilst you batted your eyelashes at him. âItâs love, Kol! Donât you understand? Does it not just pull at your heartstrings?â You sighed dreamily, kicking your legs back and forth in the air.Â
Kol frowned. âNo.â
You gasped, holding a hand to your chest as if offended. âWhat?! You donât believe in love at first sight?! You donât think that true loveâs kiss can break any curse and that love conquers all and that people live happily ever after?! Oh, Kol! Thatâs so cold hearted of you!â If sarcasm were visible youâd be drenched in it.
Your best friend bit back a smile. âI wouldnât keep this up if I were you.â
âOh, what are you gonna do?â You smirked, gesturing to the DVD case he was currently holding. âYa gonna throw DiCaprio at me?â
He grinned. âI might⊠or I could tickle you to death - youâll never see it coming.â
âWell in that case-â You gave another overly dramatic sigh. âYou should just kiss me and then all your problems will be magically fixed and youâll be a model citizen because of my unconditional love and teenage angst!â
He tossed the Titanic case at your head. You dodged it with a laugh that ebbed away as he stood up and cracked his knuckles. You hadnât thought he was serious about the tickling part.Â
âAw, crap.â
Kol pounced. His arms wrapped around you and he attacked your sides, lifting you off the ground so you couldnât escape. You laughed and squealed but he was wholeheartedly intent on making you beg for mercy.
âFine! FINE! You win!â You conceded, out of breath. You had a stitch in your side from laughing so hard.Â
He set you on your feet and you huffed, pushing the hair out of your face. Kol just grinned.
âYou know, youâre pretty cute all flushed like that,â He said gesturing to your face which you were sure had to be as red as a tomato. You rolled your eyes, vehemently ignoring the way his words made your face grow hotter.Â
After all, it wasnât going to happen.
âYouâre such a dork.â
He held up a finger. âAh! Donât go around telling people that, love. I have a reputation to consider.â
You had to smile at him. âIâll keep that in mind.â
So, after ice cream, the two of you spent the evening split between playing various card games and watching Supernatural re-runs. It was all fine and good until you somehow found yourselves on the couch. You were just sitting there, and you had gotten a little tired so youâd taken to resting your head on his shoulder. It was fine. It didnât mean anything. Then he had to go and ruin it.
Kol picked you up by the hips - just as softly as heâd always touched you - and pulled you into his lap. His arms circled your waist and tugged you in close. It was your worst nightmare. You knew that boy would never ever do anything to hurt you - he just wasnât that type of person - but that wasnât the problem. The problem was that this - no matter what it seemed or what anyone else would think - would never be anything but platonic. It couldnât be.Â
Life is like a box of chocolates - thatâs what everyone says. But the truth is, with a box of chocolates, you always know that despite how many nasty fillings there are, each box is guaranteed at least a few sweet truffles. Relationships arenât like a box of chocolates - not for you. They never carried anything good and it wasnât just disappointment you took from them. No, it was always a hundred different ways to shred your heart and you knew it wasnât worth it by now. You werenât dying for another heartbreak. You didnât need that - not now.Â
Life had proven to you before, time and time again, that you were the box of chocolates and nobody would ever stick around long enough to find the part that made you worth it. You were simply incapable of being loved.Â
Yet, your stupid, traitorous heart yearned to be proven otherwise.
So even though you knew - you knew - this would never end well, you didnât protest. You let him nuzzle your shoulder only as much as he dared. You let him hold you. After a while, you even stopped fighting the weight of your eyelids and began drifting off to sleep.Â
Kol turned off the tv and you didnât make a sound. He shifted to lay back, holding you against him as he shrouded your bodies in a blanket; yet, you didnât stir.
Then he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head and whispered words so quietly you could scarcely catch them.Â
âGoodnight, my dearest Y/N. I love you, even if you never love yourself enough to see it.âÂ
No. Those words couldnât be for you. The tenderness in his voice couldnât be for you. There had to be some mistake because your heart with all its cracks and gouges was not a thing of beauty, nor was it remarkable. It was just there, so why was this the first time in far, far too long that you could feel it beating.
You were inherently unlovable. Youâd taken that as a fact for so long.Â
How dare he tell you otherwise.
âYouâre not supposed to love me, Kol. Thatâs not how this story ends,â You whispered into the dark.
That sweet boy froze because heâd been caught. Then he reached up and found your hand, tangling his fingers with yours.Â
âI donât care how this story ends,â He said, voice firm. âIâm changing it. You know me, love. I never do as Iâm told.â
âI donât know if I can believe you.â
âThatâs alright. I love you anyway.â
You chuckled and squeezed his hand. âHappy Valentineâs Day then?â
âHappy bloody Valentineâs Day, darling.âÂ
Tagging: @yn-ymn-yln @r13mar @rootbeerfaygo @iiskittles16ii @fandomrulesall-blog @dark-night-sky-99 @railingsofsorrow @apolloroid @thatweirdoleigh @misswe03 @eat-cake @felinegrate @trikigirl271 @cute-freak27 @fayeatheart @archangelslollipop @aonungs-tsahik @sleepneverheardofher @space-princess-charming @heartbreakgrill @whatsupb18
#my name is cas and i write stuff#fanfic#fluff#klaus mikaelson#the originals#elijah mikaelson#rebekah mikaelson#kol mikaelson x reader#the vampire diaries#tvd fanfiction#tvd fanfic#mystic falls#angst and fluff#fluffy#fluffy fluff#tooth rotting fluff#kol mikaelson fanfiction#kol x reader#kol mikaelson fan fiction#reader insert#the originals fan fiction#the originals fanfiction#tvdu#tvd fan fic#kol mikaelson#kol mikaelson imagine#valentine's post#valentines fluff for my lonely lovelies#friends to lovers
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I came back to apologize for my previous ask about the smut in M&M. Not about the question, but the delivery.
Reading it in retrospect, it sounds terribly abrasive, abrupt, and rude. That was not my intention. Iâm actually quite embarrassed that I typed it out the way I did. Very disrespectful, and I am sorry.
Iâm also a single mother, AND a business owner, who happens to read a lot. And as a matter of fact, I do write my own fics.
When I came across yours, I was immediately enamored by it, especially because I had never seen anything like it. I LOVE the entire concept. Its creative and extremely relatable. Especially for people like me. I realize I should have led with that.
I felt very strongly that you needed to know I truly wasnât trying to be an asshole when I asked. The delivery was awful though, and since I wrote it in the middle of the night when I was already tired and my brain was looking for smut (lol but not really funny), I projected that in a bad way.đ€ŠđŒââïž I truly regret it.
In an attempt at an explanation, I saw most of what I said as a joke, i.e. âGood God. If they moved any slower, they'd be going backwards ... Sorry ijs...â I remember actually laughing when I typed that.
It wasnât meant to be an insult, but more rhetoric or hyperbole. I wasnât careful with my expression, so I apologize for that, too.
All of that being said, I also just happen to be a straightforward person, but I wasnât angry at all when I wrote it.
When I said âWhy not omit the smut altogether?â, I was actually wondering why you didnât just choose to just make it fluff instead (though you can do what you choose). As I read it, it didnât feel like it was even mandatory, especially considering the dynamic between them, and how it was clear he had strong feelings for her from the beginning, even when they worked together.
I also admit that with the tags, I had an expectation of more, which is where the mess that came out of me originated, but I was absolutely not expecting it for every chapter.
I don't agree with adding too much, adding it in every chapter, or that the only thing that matters is sex. His character really is objectified a lot, and all of that can dilute a story very quickly or even ruin it.
My question was more geared towards gaining an understanding of why you chose the route you did. Which was a far better way of asking than the way I did, and thereâs no excuse for that.
I hope you continue to write great stories, and again, I SINCERELY apologize for my insensitivity.
Firstly, I would like to say I really appreciate you reaching back out to me â I was pleasantly surprised to read this and it makes me SO happy to know that there are people like you on the internet, capable of addressing a misunderstanding in a respectful and thoughtful way. You being willing to send me this says a lot about who you are as a person, so seriously, thank you.
No hard feelings on my end, all is forgiven. I can completely see where you were coming from and I also relate â there have been many times in my life where Iâve said something and it came out different than what I intended. It happens love.
When I said âWhy not omit the smut altogether?â, I was actually wondering why you didnât just choose to just make it fluff instead (though you can do what you choose). As I read it, it didnât feel like it was even mandatory, especially considering the dynamic between them, and how it was clear he had strong feelings for her from the beginning, even when they worked together.
I will happily go ahead and answer this question! There are two answers to it.
The first answer is that I will not omit the smut altogether simply because⊠I like sex? đ€·ââïž Idk, itâs a simple answer really, lol đ
But I think to put it in perspective, I like sex in a different way most people consume on this platform. I am demisexual â so I have to have that close emotional bond with someone before I find them remotely attractive. When it comes to writing smut (and sometimes even reading it), this really plays a big part to both my inspiration and my comfort level.
Secondly, Iâll address what you said regarding the characters in the story, specifically relating to the comment about how the smut wasnât mandatory.Â
Personally, I do think the smut scene in ch 3 was relevant to the story bc it gave readers an insight into Satoruâs feelings/perspective. While yes, Satoru was drawn to reader in the beginning, he didnât understand his own feelings, and there were walls he built up around his heart (you get a glimpse of this when he talks to reader about how he never wanted to get married; it was after their courthouse ceremony in ch 2).
Also, most of the interactions between him and reader were subtly intimate in chs 1-2⊠he really did not start acting more bold until after the smut scene in ch 3 (ie, he tries to kiss her in the supply room and in the kitchen). Basically, his walls did not come down until they shared that first kiss, because it solidified his own feelings for her. He mentions this to reader when they share their second kiss in ch 6.
If you listen to the song on my playlist for mhm called âCardiac Arrestâ by Bad Suns, it really speaks to the image I had of Satoru while writing the scene during/after their kiss in ch 2.
The moving too fast thing plays into readers character. She was cheated on by naoya (also naoya is just a prick lol), so of course trust is not something she is going to give lightly. I did not feel comfortable having the smut continue in ch 6 bc it felt like their relationship would regress â reader wasnât honest with satoru yet yk? It wouldâve felt super hypocritical for her to preach about how important trust is to her, but then not deliver it herself. putting myself in satoruâs position, I would feel pretty hurt if immediately after I fucked someone for the first time, they suddenly decide to tell me a secret they were hiding from me? đââïž Again... idk, that could be just me though, bc as I said, emotional bonds are big when it comes to physical intimacy for me.
Anyways, I hope this gave you some perspective to my own thought process and answered your question love.
As a fellow mom myself, just wanna say, you single moms are literal super heroes đ„ș Sending you love bc it is NOT easy. Thanks for reading my story and apologizing đ«¶đ»
-alyđ
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refuting that one reviewer on here
I strongly suspect Iâll be blocked, so Iâm pasting what I said here before anything else happens. This is basically a response to that snarky review weâve all seen
Anyway to respond to their points: the game refutes most of the reviewers assumptions, if not ALL of them.
the majority of the âpointsâ made here are based off of personal opinion, which is not really valid for the sake of this review. The reviewer keeps alluding to different types of media with similar premises, but whoâs Lila is NOT westworld. It ISNT slay the princess. If you want those games, play them. If not, donât bitch because the game youâre playing isnât like them.
imagine if I went into a restaurant and ordered a cheeseburger. Upon eating it I exclaim âhey! This is nothing like my favorite restaurants! That makes it bad!â But if I wanted my favorite restaurants food, I should have eaten there, shouldnât I?
as for the âpointsâ about the characters being uninteresting.. buddy. Go through the ao3 tag. Go through the tumblr and Twitter tags. This game clearly has a very dedicated and active fan base. Are you saying all of them are objectively wrong for enjoying it? Or is it that you simply donât like it and they do?
and to the final point- you seem to have taken a very superficial look at this game. âThat means the game is superficial.â Is it? Or were you simply unwilling to give it any more of your time than you deemed worthy? If you set into playing something with the mindset you wonât enjoy it, you probably wonât enjoy it, and that seems to be what happened here.
as for your last arguments regarding Lila and tulpamancy- this is how I can tell you didnât play the game very thoroughly. Lila ISNT a tulpa. She ISNT Lilith. Her entire point is to deceive the player with what she might be, so as to keep your attention. Now you have said you donât find her captivating. Good for you! Doesnât make it bad.
Something I also want to point out, is that the reviewer states that Lila is a mouthpiece for the author. This directly indicates the authors naĂŻvetĂ© to me. The author is assuming the game is going to turn to them during one of Lilaâs monologues and directly tell them Lila is being manipulative. Lila should not be trusted in this instance. The reviewer is indicating that they do not have the reading comprehension to understand that Lila is manipulative and not to be trusted. The game all over backwards to indicate that Lila is a liar that is not trustworthy. Itâs all but spelled out for the player that Lila is manipulating William in every scene which she speaks to him. if the reviewer does not understand this, it is not the fault it reads the player has simply skimmed through the game and taken everything at face value. Because the game has told them something, it must be narratively true. when in reality, the exact opposite is true. yes, who is Lila is open to player interpretation, however, that does not mean the exact opposite of these things are true. The reviewer is being intentionally dense in their understanding of the game and not giving it the full credit deserves.
Whoâs Lila deliberately lured in the player with thoughts of what might be happening. It sets you up to believe that William is a âcrossdressing killerâ (seriously op? Shame on you.) and that Lila is some generic supernatural entity. Then it shatters your expectations to- once again- reel you in.
Overall, you donât have to like it. But this game has a very dedicated and loving fan base. Donât post shit about it and get surprised pikachu face when people are irritated with your generic superficial take which is ultimately boiled down to âI donât like it, so youâre stupid for liking it, because Iâm so much smarter than you.â
mic drop.
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Experience in Suffering - Elementals Seperated AU
âSo, youâve found your way here. Greetingsâ
It looks up, or at least try to face the direction of the voice. No need to even use its scan, it could already tell who it is.
The spirit of light, the light of misfortune, origin of greed-
(Fellow sinnerâŠ)
But how? How could they wake from the Mothâs Dream? Is it because they are a spirit? The robotâs system was running in whatever ways it could to find an answer. Cross referencing from the Spirit of Dreams herself is out of the picture, as she was the one controlling the dreams. So why?
âI can see the gears turning in your head, it would be better if you used that for other things thoughâ The spirit said, and it remembered. Now is no time to stand by, it has an order to follow.
Apprehend the spirit of light.
The gears within it began to churn and form, changing its fingers into cannons and guns, but the spirit remained there, simply watching. How irrational. If they had told it to get on with things, why arenât they doing anything?
âYouâre not going to go ahead and fire?â
No, not when it has its suspicions. Experience tells the robot that if one seems very confident, it means that one has a plan. It had only been able to grasp a small fraction of the spiritâs memory before, which amounted to a lifetime of memories.
Just what do they know?
The spirit descended, landing right in front of the robot, making it move back. What is the spirit doing? Do they have a death wish? It can pull the triggers right here and apprehend the spirit that way.
But it canât. Something in the back of its mind tells it that wonât work. Perhaps a faulty old gear, against better judgement it once again lowers its weapon.
âUsually, I like to save my thoughts for all things logical and practical, but I find philosophy becoming increasingly prevalent. Much to my dismay, Iâve been forced to face it outrightâ A false sigh escaped the spirit, as fake as their demeanor.
âWeâre quite similar are we?â What do they mean by that?
âI donât know if itâs only the extent of your powers, or some cruel irony, you just had to choose my most painful years. I donât blame the child creating the dreams, twisting events to fulfill my desires at that time. It made me realize somethingâ. Despite not having eyes, the robot could feel the spiritâs gaze.
âDespite being awake, we are both dreaming, dreaming of a better timeâ
They took a step forward, it floated backwards.
âBoth long to return to that kinder past, maybe with our knowledge we could have fixed everythingâ. No, no it doesnât. Yes it does
âBut we canât can we? Itâs impossible. The only way left is forward. Fearing more pain we tell ourselves to walk the easiest road ahead of us. Fighting back hurts so we stopped fighting completelyâ. It wished its ego systems werenât active, so it canât comprehend these thoughts, but the robot canât shut down that program no matter how hard it tried.
âHoping for the day we simply stop functioningâ. Are they trying to understand it? To achieve some form of sympathy? If thatâs it then sadly, it wonât work.
It never did before, no matter whatâŠ
âNo choice but to keep our accursed existence, only look at past sins as if weâre reading things in a book-â
It happened so fast. How did its sensors not catch that? The robot could only question, as its right arm is now in the grip of the spirit of light.
âIt doesnât have to be this way though. Allow me to demonstrate how to look at oneâs sins in the faceâ
The emotions flooding its systems right now- Is it fear? Shock? Horror? What even is going on? No events like this has happened in the past! It felt its palm being turned over- Stop it! Stop this!
Just remembering the existence of the left arm, the robot pointed it at the one in front of it. Cease this insanity now foolish spirit of light-
âZaphkiel. Yodâ
A loud bang went off, but it felt no damage. In fact, thereâs damage at all. What did the spirit point at?
The silence is deafening. The android robot dare not move, fearing the touch on itâs misshapen hands might leave, that there would be a thud on the floor, and the spirit would be gone, meaning it had failed itâs mission.
It felt as if time had slowed to a stop, before it heard that voice again.
âWell⊠That was a certainly a trip down memory lane. I knew your power didnât have something as silly as a 100 year limitâ It sounded as if the spirit was smiling ear to ear, taking delight in its horror, a feeling it doesnât want to experience again.
Welp, been a while since I actually wrote something. Wanted cool Solar and maybe drop some lore of mah boi Remiel. I also just discovered editing the texts
We got remiel!!
Those lines in the end are added hmmm
Reading this more thoroughly
solar being eerily poetic to Remiel and Remiel just not comprehending whatever is happening being with Solar
The android crossed out, so this period Remiel hasnt considered himself much of a person just a robot with a job to do
Trying to supress what makes him less of a robot too
And Solar is helping but in a not so pleasant way? Like help Remiel through this crisis of his despite both of them just gone through a recap of what Neira did for them
#xoshi asks#xoshi answers#boboiboy#boboiboy galaxy#bbb elements separated au#nerizys nerialter moot#Solar stop scaring the poor guy
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I Couldn't Kill You If I Tried
I'm so excited for this prompt. I had a blast writing it and I hope you guys like it. This one features a flayed Nancy. Thanks again to the anonymous prompter who left this in my asks.
You can read my previous prompts or send me some new ones.
âAnd I think thatâs kind of special, you know?â Robin had been rambling for about ten minutes now. There was something about being close to Nancy to caused her to lose the ability to shut up. She just talked and talked and talked. And she knew why, she knew it was because Nancy made her nervous, she knew that it was because she had a crush on Nancy, but it didnât change the fact that she constantly felt like a nuisance.
Especially now. Because Nancy wasnât reacting. She wasnât nodding her head with a tight-lipped smile. She wasnât giggling at the ridiculous bullshit Robin shared. She wasnât recognizing Robinâs existence in the slightest.
It felt like one of the many nightmares Robin had. The ones where she ran her mouth and shared too much, and Nancy found out the truth about her. They never ended well.
âNance?â Robin hated herself for the way her voice quivered.
There was no reaction.
Robin rushed forward on clumsy feet and walked backwards, simply to be able to get a better look at Nancy. If the girl hadnât been walking, Robin would have assumed this was all Vecna.
âNance?â Robin asked again. But as she looked into Nancyâs eyes, she missed the blue. Instead, her eyes were black, as if those irises had been poisoned by a drop of ink. âNance? Are you alright?â
Maybe it was stupid that she reached her hands towards the other girl. The girl that was still walking. But what else was Robin supposed to do?
The second her fingertip grazed Nancyâs arm, the girl tackled Robin to the ground. There were hands around her neck, squeezing almost as tight as the vines had back in the Upside Down.
âNance, Nancy, please.â The words were barely audible. Nothing more than shallow breaths. âPlease, let go.â Robinâs hands reached for Nancyâs wrists.
Blue returned to Nancyâs eyes as she threw herself off Robinâs body. Robin sat up, her hand stroking over her neck. She had already opened her mouth to comfort Nancy, to tell her everything would be okay, even if she didnât understand what had just happened. But Nancy muttered a soft sorry before rushing away.
-
âSomething is wrong. I think she might be⊠flayed,â El said, her eyes closed tightly and a drop of blood dripping out her nose.
Robin was sitting in front of her, silently tapping her finger against her knee. She had been beyond agitated when she reached Hopperâs cabin. It still was a bit of a dump despite the work they all had done on it. Robin was pretty sure Joyce was actively looking for another place to stay. Something that shouldnât be this hard with people moving away left and right.
âSheâs fighting though. Sheâs fighting, but she seems⊠she seems tired.â El opened her eyes and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. âI tried to reach for her, but she pushed me out.â
âFuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!â Robin yelled. She jumped up and started pacing the floor. âFlayed? That means she is like Billy. We all know how that ended. I canâtâ She canât die.â
âWill was flayed at one point and we got it out of him,â Jonathan offered.
âHow?â Robin stopped pacing and instead opted to stare at the boy on the couch, Nancy Wheelerâs ex-boyfriend.
âMe and Nancy burned it out of him.â
Robin thought about pushing a hot poker into Nancyâs flesh and a shiver ran down her spine. She couldnât. She could never hurt Nancy like that.
A knock at the door prohibited Robin from saying anything else. Robin followed Jonathanâs lazy steps toward the cabin door.
âYou know itâs not polite to poke into someoneâs head without permission.â Nancy looked different. She was wearing tight leather pants and a black shirt. Robin hated to admit that it looked hot on her.
âNancy?â Robin asked.
âRobin?â Nancyâs face twisted into a sweet smile. It was almost easy enough to pretend it was real.
âWhat are you doing here?â The words felt bitter in Robinâs mouth. A few days ago, she would have been delighted to see Nancy at her doorstep.
âIâm here for you, of course.â Nancy took a step forward. âI want to finish our little get together from earlier. Arenât you in the mood?â
Jonathan tried to grab for Nancyâs arm, but she escaped his grasp. It was shocking that Nancy seemed to be moving with even more elegance than she usually did. It somehow made Robin feel even smaller, more inadequate, than she usually did. Because even in her current stance she portrayed a lack of elegance that she had never seen on another girl.
âIâm not sure I am in the mood,â Robin responded, a soft breath escaping her mouth without consent. She had barely registered the way she had been holding her breath.
âOh, poor Robin. Canât you make some time for your dear friend. I really would love to speak to you.â Nancyâs voice sounded off. Like she was playing a character.
In the back of her mind Robin heard Elâs voice. I think she might be⊠flayed. So, maybe she was playing a character. Or rather, maybe Vecna was playing a character. Was it Vecna? Or was the Mind Flayer its own boss? Robin wasnât sure anymore. Maybe she had missed too much of the beginning.
âNancy.â She felt almost stupid saying that name. Because every step Nancy took toward her made her look less like Nancy.
âRobin, Robin, Robin.â Each time Nancyâs voice uttered her name, she took a step closer. âIâm really going to enjoy ripping your heart out.â
When Jonathan tried to grab Nancyâs arm again, he succeeded. His hand tight around the limb. Robin worried it was hurting Nancy. But the girl simply turned towards the boy she used to love with a smirk on her face. All it took was one push for him to go flying through the room. Robin wanted to scream. But not a single sound escaped her.
Maybe she had gotten lucky that Nancy seemed to be distracted. It would have been the perfect moment for Robin to run, as Nancy walked over to Jonathanâs limp body and El jumped into action to defend her brother. This was how Robin could get out. But she was locked into place, simply destined to watch. So, she did.
She watched as Nancy straddled Jonathanâs body. She watched as those slender fingers gripped for Jonathanâs throat. She watched as Jonathan defended himself and Nancy pushed him in the face. She watched as El threw Nancy off her brother without so much as taking one step closer.
And then Nancy laughed. She laughed as she crawled up. There was blood on her knuckles and a grin on her face and yet she still looked beautiful. Robin was well aware she shouldnât be thinking about that now.
She continued watching and yet she didnât see what happened. All she knew was that in the blink of an eye El lay unconscious on the floor and fear gripped at Robinâs heart.
Nancy released a long breath. âFinally, just you and me.â
Robin felt the hairs on her arm stand upright. She wanted to crawl into the corner of the room. She stayed standing where she stood. âWhy do you want me?â
Nancy rolled her eyes dramatically. âI donât, she does.â
âAlright, well what does she want from me?â
âItâs hard to say. But itâs a distraction. You, Robin, are a distraction. And I canât have any distractions.â
One hand squeezed Robinâs throat. Just like before. She tried to find a sign on Nancyâs face, an indicator of what she was meant to do. Nancy was the one who came up with plans. Nancy was the one who took charge. And now Nancy was gone, and Robin was struggling to breathe in more ways than one.
She thought about dying. She thought about whether or not there would be a heaven and hell and where sheâd end up. If the religious were right, sheâd be burning for all eternity. But Robin was certain it wouldnât hurt as much as this very moment. Nothing could ever hurt that much.
Her eyes fell to Nancyâs lips. They werenât smiling anymore. They werenât doing anything. Robin wasnât sure what came over her. She pushed against Nancyâs hand to get closer, to close that damned space between them and then she connected their lips. It was shocking how nice it felt. Or maybe it wasnât shocking at all because it was still Nancy. These were Nancyâs lips and no matter who had poisoned her brain, that fact would never change.
It took a few moments before Nancyâs lips started moving against her own, even before Robinâs lips moved. But as Nancy started kissing her, her hand slacked and fell off Robinâs neck only to get a hold of Robinâs shirt, pulling. Pulling Robin closer.
The kiss didnât last long. Perhaps half a minute, and then Nancy pulled away. Her blue eyes were wet with unshed tears, one of her hands was gripping the fabric at Robinâs shoulder while the other dangled next to her body. Her lips were wet, and Robin vaguely realized that it was because of her own saliva.
âRobin?â It was barely audible.
âNance, are you alright?â
âIâ How do you know itâs me?â Nancy sounded like she wanted to cry and perhaps she did.
âYour eyes. You have blue eyes. But when you were flayed, they were dark and⊠your eyes.â
âYou kissed me,â Nancy whispered. Almost as if she spoke too loudly it would cease to be true.
âI did. You kissed back.â
âI did.â Nancyâs hand let go of Robinâs shirt. She missed it.
âI wouldâ do youâ Iââ Robin couldnât seem to speak.
âWhy did you kiss me?â Nancy interrupted.
Robin sighed. âI was about to die andâ I guess I didnât care about consequences because I had nothing to lose.â
âWould you likeâ does that meanâ I think thatââ Nancy stumbled over her words. âWould you like there to be consequences?â
Robin blinked a few times. âWhat do you mean?â
âI want to kiss you again,â Nancy answered.
âOh, those kinds of consequences?â
Nancy nodded, eyes locked in on their target.
âI would like there to be those kinds of consequences.â
âThank God.â Nancy leaned in, and Robin was certain God had nothing to do with this. This was all Nancy.
#prompts#ronance#flayed Nancy#nancy wheeler#robin buckley#my work#stranger things#fanfic#robin x nancy#nancy x robin#ronance fic#I actually really like this one#there is violence in this#but not that much
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Off the Grid
For @chertpole for the @tgpairup event! I gave them some AriEto to chew on, and you can too! Enjoy the meal :]
Eto had never been one for nostalgia.
She had always been too busy, too focused on other things to look backwards. The past was a place of pain, of longing, and of what would never be again. It was not a source of strength, but evidence of weakness. Only by looking forward could she grab an inkling of the strength she sought.
And yet, the moment her feet touched mainland Tokyo, she went here: the old shrine where it all began.
It had long since fallen into disrepair; it was on no map in the first place, and no one who knew about it bothered to tell. She remembered being attracted to it for that very reason. After all, she was similarly discarded. With her mother dead, her father had seen fit to discard the very thing that reminded him of his failure, and a tool was no longer necessary when everything was fixed. In occupying it as a fellow forgotten one, they would remember each other.
It was stupid, really; places never remembered the people that trampled upon it, but foolish girls were wont to dream.
Eto traced the branch of one of the trees, which had grown tall and strong these past thirteen years. Its trunk was thick and sturdy, and it towered above her, when before it was but a mere sapling, under threat of being crushed on a whim. Not only that, but its roots had finally broken the stone before the shrine, the spot where her world finally began to turn.
Time really did fly; being here now, she almost remembered the scene like it was yesterday. Her, missing an arm and collapsed in a heap within her kakuja. The shrine, broken from the weight. And then, suddenlyâ
âYouâre here.â
Eto looked up and, upon seeing who it was, smirked. There was only one person who could sneak up on her like that, and as the years went by, she minded it less and less.
Seeing him here, it almost made her think the past had caught up to her, but she knew that wasnât true. There were little differences to this new old meeting that made it so. Stark white hair instead of a nightshade blue. Her own hair, grown into a wild mane. An eye that couldnât see anything anymore, and hers that had to squint when reading text on a book.
âKishou Arima,â she said with a mirthless giggle. âCome to bask in your glory days?â
âNo,â he said simply, as flat as ever. âI was just on my way to the 23rd.â
It was a little frustrating, to be honest, how little she could get out of him, but at the same time, that veilâ or rather, that wallâ was a comfort. The idea that there would always be something she could never truly understand, that there would always be something more to discoverâ It kept her going on some days. It meant she could keep digging, keep searching, keep fighting, and there would still be more. The Sysyphian assurance of an expected, if infinite, battle.
âAnd you?â Arima brought Eto out of her thoughts. âWhy?â
The nostalgic question made her scoff. There were many people who asked similar things, but he was the only one she answered. âYouâre asking that now? Are you truly soââ
âI am,â he interrupted. âWhy?â
His gaze was unwavering, but a trick of the light made her think that there was a twinkle to them. Maybe, deep down in his empty void for a soul, he was actually amused. She chuckled at the prospect, then decided to indulge it. âIâve just come back from Rushima, and I got a call that my editor is being âinterrogatedâ.â
âBy who?â
âYou know who.â She didnât have to say the name. âHe had that look, you know. Almost reminded me of you.â
Arima paused. âHeâs begun reading your work again. They remind him of himself, it seems.â
âSo I noticed. And you? What do you think of them?â
He shrugged. âTheyâre wordy.â
She rolled her eyes at that. He never was one to talk at length, even about books, which he supposedly liked. Even now, where the end for them was in sight, he did not waver in this.
âAnyway,â she shrugged, âcutting through here is faster to get to where he is.â
It was a lie, just like Arimaâs reason. This place was far too out of the way to justify coming here, regardless of destination; that was why Eto had chosen it in the first place. However, neither of them called the other out; they knew without saying.
âYouâve made your decision, then?â she asked, as if she even needed to.
He nodded. âThe raidâs set to happen soon, and Squad 0 will be guarding Cochlea.â
âI feel safer already.â She smiled, but it faded soon enough. âIt will be difficult for him.â
âHeâll succeed,â Arima said, and he almost sounded reassuring. âIâll make him.â
âSo you will.â A chuckle. âYou always were one to force things.â
âBetter than never letting things happen at all.â
âHmph.â
Forcing thingsâ that was the way of the One-Eyed King. Forcing his way to the top, clambering over the corpses, and creating a living legend that ghouls all over Tokyo despaired over. To supplement it, Eto became the Owl, his shadow, to give humans a reason to cling to him and justify their needless killing. She ate and ate and ate, taking the corpses and creating a shawl with which to conceal herself.
However, the thing about despair was that hope could just as easily be born from it. Were someone to topple that legend and create something new of it, ghouls would suddenly have a shining beacon of hope to look toward, and they would finally be willing to fight for their existence, finally be willing to live and not just survive. Not only that, but the humans who killed ghouls would finally be forced to turn inward and face the truth of the matter: they were played for fools.
But the thing about toppling such a legend was that it required a sacrifice. One unique sacrifice, and that, in and of itself, almost made it precious.
Eto stared at the coveted object as he turned on his heel and walked away. The way he still refused to really and truly look at her, even after thirteen long years, told her that there was still something he wasnât telling her, but she couldnât tell what.
It didnât matter, of course; things were only ever going to end this way. The two of them were only cracks in the shell, crumbling in on themselves so that the real king could crawl out to the other side. Neither of them were strong enough on their own, nor did they have the tools or background to see it through themselves.
Still, they would try, and someone else, someone better, that made up the best parts of them, could do it when they couldnât. They could find someone like that, surely, and they had. A miracle, not lying on cold concrete, but shining and flying through the sky. As his predecessors fell into the abyss and closed their eyes to that sparkling beacon, they would go satisfied, knowing it wasnât all for nothing.
Despite that, though, as Eto watched Arima, she wondered if things could be different. If he could findâ or rather, if he could see a way where he didnât choose death over the world. Where he survived, and continued the fight. Would that result in a better outcome? If the Reaper turned his blade on the strings keeping him down instead of going limp in their grasp, could things change?
⊠No. No, they couldnât; he had come too far down his bloody path to try and pave a new one. Much like her, a bloody cannibal who couldnât find the bottom of her own stomach, he had piled up a tower of corpses far too high to topple it over now. They were monsters, simple as that. They, who took lives on a whim, were not worthy of seeing the new world, nor should they be allowed to fight any longer than they had to. Death was just as much a part of life as living was, and so they would entrust their legacy to their successorâ their better.
Their king.
Still, if death was to be their fate, she wanted to try something out. She wanted to leave nothing unsaid, and as much as she hated to admit it, this was one of them. With a step and a call, she spoke a single word:
âKishou.â
He paused halfway down the road. She waited for a reaction, for anything, really. She didnât fully understand why she wanted to say what she said; she just knew she had to say it before the coming end. It felt strange saying it, but it had to be said.
Perhaps a part of her wished for him to turn around, and in doing so, change his mind. Change his path. Because if he could, so could she. In saying his name, she was positing a question: could they defy the death that would inevitably catch up to them? Was there a world where miscreants like them could exist together?
A gust of wind blew through the area, and leftover dew on the tree leaves, like blood, slipped off and hit the ground. Eto stared at the white back of his coat as she waited. Always, she waited.
It felt a little ridiculous. What exactly was she waiting for, anyway? It wasnât like changing what she called him would cause him to turn around andâ and what? Smile at her? Touch her? Kiss her?
She frowned. That sort of thing wasnât possible for people like them. They shouldnâtâ they couldnât seek something like that. There were always bigger, more important things than trash like them.
Eto wet her lips in the silence.
She wanted him to turn around. So, so badly. She wanted him to turn around and run back to her, enthusiasm, anticipation, and joy springing him forth instead of emptiness, anger, and despair. She wanted him to gather her into his arms and hold her like she was the world, like she was the only thing that mattered. She wanted to feel his lips on hers, desperate and longing for the touch of someone who knew his greatest secret, from someone he had bared his heart to, even if only slightly.
She could be that person. She could touch him like he wanted to, and he could do the same to her. They would fit quite well together, she imagined, like pieces of a broken puzzle. Two terrible souls who, at the bottom of the barrel, had found each other. It could work, if she were more delusional and presumptuous than she was.
Fortunately, her feet did not obey her misguided and silent desire; they stayed planted, waiting as they always did. Arima also seemed to remember himself, and continued walking as though she hadnât said anything at all. All began to fit itself back together. He walked, she watched, until she was alone again.
With a practiced sigh, she shrugged off the heartache.
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From The Sea [2/4]
Fandom: Rogue One Pairing: Cassian x Jyn Notes: Hi, uh, here's another chapter? @mousedetective: look, I wrote another chapter finally!
On AO3
She stares at the man, Cassian, her brain provides. "I am sorry," her own voice sounds dazzled. "But I most certainly have not. I don't know you."
The man, Cassian, gives her a solemn nod. "You did. But perhaps not in the way you think. You cried your pain into the sea."
Her brain near short circuits. "Excuse me?"
"The answer is simple, ma'am." Cassian says, but does not move. He makes no threatening move or sound towards her and remains firmly planted on his side of her door. "My kin and I, well, we live in the sea and we are honor and duty bound to attend those who need us. And you, Jyn Erso, need me."
She took a fearful step backwards, but still, Cassian did not move. This did not make sense! Did this man thought she was crazy or desperate? She wanted to speak, but the words died in her throat.
Cassian seemed to understand, "We are shifters. Beings created for comfort and aid; my kin and I have since time immemorial, have come to the aid of those who need us."
She rose a shaking hand towards her throat, "And how⊠how do I need you?"
Cassian gave her a soft smile. "You need a friend. You need comfort. To be reminded that no matter how hard things are, you are not alone."
Her pulse sped up, she could hear her blood rushing in her ears. "And you can do that?"
"Yes." Cassian said it so simply, without a hint of arrogance. Just pure unadultered belief. "Yes, I can help you, Jyn Erso."
"How do you know my name?"
"Your tears spoke it clearly enough." Cassian tilted his head, "I am willing to take an oath, if you wish, to prove that I am not here to harm you."
There was something⊠innocent in the way Cassian spoke. Oh he was sure of himself, but she could not detect the arrogance that made many men she had met before. Cassian seemed⊠very very different. There was something about him that spoke of truth, of protection, of a way out of loneliness and her heart ached, not for the first time for the father that she had lost. But still, it wasn't quite the same, Cassian was not fatherly, he was friendly. Like the friend who is with you through thick and thin. That steadfast friend who never abandons you, "I'll take your oath," she spoke before she thought about it.
Cassian nodded solemnly. "I, Cassian, of the Clan Andor, do solemnly swear to Jyn Erso that I mean her no harm. That I am here to simply be what she needs in this desperate time of need. That I will behave with honor, and never assume anything in regards towards her wishes. So I have spoken, my the abyss swallow me whole if I have spoke without honor."
For a moment, she thought her eyes were seeing things, but no. Cassian had glowed softly in front of her. The oath was binding him, she thought breathlessly. It took her a moment to recover, but when she did, she took another step backwards, "Come on in then, Cassian. I am about to have dinner."
~
Dinner, much to her surprise, is a quiet affair. Cassian seems to know how to behave in a human table. At least, he has the manners and eats respectfully and does not complain about her simple food. Since her mother's passing, she has found herself unable to make the elaborate meals she and her mom used to enjoy. Now, she eats to survive, the joy is gone.
~
She leaves Cassian in one of her guest bedrooms. As a test, she leaves her door unlocked, does not sleep thanks to her insomnia.he gives Cassian a guest bedroom and leaves him be. She leaves her door unlocked and does not sle
She reads all night and Cassian never tries to get into her room. Nor does he make a sound.
~
She makes a stronger than usual cup of coffee and when Cassian walks in, he takes one look at her and says, "You did not sleep."
She freezes.
"Your eyes are a bit red and unless you cried - which I would have heard - you did not sleep." Cassian frowns. "You need to rest Jyn, for your sake. I vowed not to harm you, if you must know, my vow would strike me dead if I tried."
When she regains her wits, she blinks and delays answering by taking a deep gulp of coffee, it is bitter and perhaps she should have added milk and sugar and it turns her stomach. Then sets her cup down, "I have insomnia. Can't sleep."
Cassian nods, as if he truly understood. "A grief like yours tends to bring it. But still, you should try and sleep, you will hurt yourself more if you don't."
She looks away. How can she tell him that every time she closes her eyes, the only thing she sees is her mother laying down in hospital bed, gaunt and pale? She swears she can still feel the cold when she touched her mother only to find her gone. "It is hard," she settles. "I have nightmares."
"If you wish, I could keep you company. We do not have to speak, just to remind you that you are not alone."
"Thank you," she says. "Perhaps. Would you care for some eggs?"
Cassian gives her a look like he knows what she's doing. In the end, he nods and she releases the breath she didn't know she was holding.
~
Later that night, she turns to Cassian, "Is the offer still up?"
"About keeping you company? Yes, it is."
They settle in the small office, she lights a fire and grabs a book. "Feel free to read what you'd like," she tells him. "It's only fair."
Cassian nods, settles with a poetry book and lets her be. And for once in a very long while, she feels at peace.
~
She is not exactly thrilled at the thought of needing help. Much less, this man who claims to come from the sea, who claims to have tasted her grief, but she cannot deny the peace she feels around him.
There is something there, something very deep and mysterious that she does not know how to explain that pulls her to him.
She does not want to consider what it may mean.
He will go away again, when she is better. And if she is being honest with herself, she does not know how to handle the fact she does not want him to.
So, she remains silent.
~
One night, one of those rare one in which she falls asleep without Cassian's help, she wakes up sobbing.
The grief she had tried to push away from her, to ignore, she finds that she can't and she now finds herself drowning in it. She is so caught up in her pain, in her sobbing, that she misses when Cassian rushes to her, misses him sitting down next to her, misses him pulling her into his arms and gently rocking her. Misses how soft his voice is when he sings in a language she does not understand.
She misses it all.
But she does not miss it the following morning, when she wakes in his arms. Cassian resting against her bed frame, her small form curled around him.
If she weren't so exhausted, she would pushed herself away. But she does not have the strenght, not with her pain and grief as raw and open as last night.
"I hope you do not mind," comes Cassian's low voice from above her head. "But I could not leave you. You needed me."
A knot forms in her throat. Yeah, she did.
"Thank you," is all she manages.
Cassian rubs her arms comfortingly, "You are most welcome, Jyn. Go back to sleep."
And, as if commanded, her lids turn heavy and she soon knows no more.
~
When she awakens next, she is still in Cassian's arms. Guilt crashes onto her quick, "Oh, Cassian, I am so sorry." She pushes herself out of his arms, and some part of her screams at her for doing so.
Cassian gives her a gentle smile, "There is no need to be sorry, Jyn. This is why I am here. Because you need me."
She clears her throat, "StillâŠ"
Cassian's lips curl gently up, "Jyn, it is a privilege helping you. No one should be alone during such terrible moments."
She stares at him, he is calm and peaceful; undisturbed or annoyed. No, he understands and as much as she wants to deny it, she does feel better. "Would you let me make a special breakfast, as a thank you?"
Cassian's eyes sparkle with warmth, "If you feel like you must, but know that anything is fine by me."
She gives him what she hopes is a relieved smiled, "Alright then, c'mon on. My special breakfast casserole is coming up."
"Lead on, Jyn, lead on."
~
After that, life gets easier and harder.
Easier, because she finally feels like she can properly express her grief and say what's on her mind without being judged, because Cassian does not judge. "People are complicated Jyn, you are allowed to have conflicting feelings."
And she understands.
Oh, she does.
She feels lighter, because Cassian is like a beacon of light and love casting such powerful spell, that she feels like she can properly be again. She feels like she can truly morn and then, move on. Because she knows her mother would not have wanted her to cast herself in doom and gloom for the rest of her life.
No, her mother would have wanted her to dance and sing, and jump in puddles in the rain, to fall in love and form a family (whichever form it took) of her own. Her mother would be cheering her ever on. She owes it to her to honor her that way.
And harder, because with every day she passes, she cannot help but to notice Cassian.
Not Cassian the wondrous being who came to save her.
But Cassian, the man.
The man whose dark brown eyes are always full with kindness and compassion, but she can see the fire there. She knows that if Cassian saw someone being hurt, he would not stand for it. Those eyes that sparkle when he laughs and look at her and make her weak at the knees.
His deep voice, a voice that many times now has lulled her to sleep. There is something there, deep and enthralling about it that much like a siren's song, she cannot help but want to follow and continue hearing him speak.
His lean, strong form. How firm his chest felt on those times she felt asleep in his arms. His arms, that every time he wrapped them around her, she had to pretend to be fine letting go. She wanted to lived encircled in the safety of his arms.
How to forget this? How to ignore this? The answer was simple: There would not forgetting Cassian.
She knew that she was headed for heartbreak, but she did not care. Her mother would have reminded her that it no matter the pain, it was better to love and loose than shielding her heart always afraid of breakage.
And so, one night she arms herself with valor. She hypes herself up and buys flowers for her table, a decent bottle of wine and she whips up a three course meal.
When she calls Cassian over, she does her best to be calm. She did not dress up, she knows she should have; but that would have tipped Cassian that she was planning something, and for this, she would need a bit of the element of surprise.
When Cassian enters the kitchen and sees the table, he gives her a look she can't quite decipher. It feels like an eternity before he smiles at her and sits down, she releases the breath she did not know was holding and she grins. Her heart beats faster at the look in Cassian's eyes. Unless she is imagining it, there is something almost predatory in them. The phrase, 'Hungry like the wolf', comes unbidden.
A wild part of her hopes he will eat her whole.
The dine, under the guise of her thanking him for everything that he has done for her. He gives her a knowing look and says, "I know, and our time together is almost gone."
She bites down the bitterness that comes with his statement, but she will not be deterred. If she will only have even one night with him, the pain of their parting will be worth it. "And I will be sorry to see you go," she says softly. "You have been - dare I say it - almost heaven sent. I would not have been able to mourn and let it go without you."
Cassian shakes his head, "You would have. Eventually, but you are too strong a person to have crumbled, your pain would have diminished on its own; I simply sped up the process."
"Still," she says. "You are the best thing that could have happened to me."
Cassian gives her a look that she can't identify, "And I count myself fortunate, Jyn Erso, in getting to know you."
She does not speak, but holds his eyes instead. She watches as they darken, as they grow deeper and there is that fire. Her heartbeat speeds up, blood rushes in her ears andâŠ
They both stand up as one, Cassin gives two long steps and takes her into his arms. His lips descent on hers, and she responds to his hunger eagerly. Willing to be consume and to devour him. To melt and become one. Cassian's hands slowly go from her waist to her rear, and she shivers as his hands leave trails of fire. A fire that roars when he clutches at her ass, and she, by instinct, leaps into his arms.
They barely part lips enough to draw breath, and then their lips clash again. She clings to him as he takes them to her bed. The clothes come off, nearly being ripped from each other's bodies, strewn all over her floor. She does not care.
All that she care right now, is the passion, the love she feels for this man. All that matter is his hands on her body, his lips on her, the groans she manages to pull from him. All that matters is this mutual pleasure.
And she feels lighter and happier than she has ever been. Cassian draws moans and shivers from her no one ever has, she understands now the French's reason of 'la petit morte'. And she knows that no other man will ever compare to this one, to this kind, gentle, passionate and loving man who fits with her so seamlessly.
Tired, worn, content and more at peace than she has ever being, she falls asleep atop Cassian's naked chest, using his heartbeat as a lullaby.
The pain will come, but right now, all that matters is this moment.
#cassian x jyn#rebelcaptain#rogue one#rogue one fic#cassian andor#jyn erso#au: modern setting#au: supernatural
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I was never a nolpat fan (didn't hate him, he just wasn't one of the guys I was fannish about), and even I was... not devastated, but still felt something of a gut-punch when I read about what he said in these accounts. And it's not because I have some rosy view of hockey - I grew up around it, unfortunately I know all too well how toxic it can be. I try to go into fandom with the expectation that any player (including/especially the ones I admire) can do any of the myriad terrible things that are so common in this sport's culture, fall in step with the also terrible political views of the majority, would generally be a person I would not want to talk to irl. The gut-punch part for me I think comes from 1) plain old sadness/disappointment/horror at the reminder of how awful human beings can be, just, in general, because yes of course I know these people exist and see evidence of it all too often, and even if this was some rando on the internet those comments would be upsetting; and 2) that these comments hit me right in my sense of unfairness, that so much opportunity and privilege was given to someone so terrible. (Of course privilege isn't distributed based on goodness, but it's always infuriating to see shitty people get good things/no comeuppance for being shitty; sure, cosmic justice isn't a thing, but we sure wish it were.)
As many others have said, I do think it's important to understand the reality of this sport's culture and its myriad issues, and take steps back to make sure you're keeping that fiction/reality divide clear in your head, but as you pointed out, some people are new or have less experience with the realities of hockey for whatever reason, and even if they are, people will be upset by news of someone being a piece of shit because someone being a piece of shit is generally upsetting. I don't think it's productive to tear people down for simply not knowing how bad it was. Dismay and the misguided belief that someone being good-looking and talented and quiet correlates to their quality as a person aside, I have yet to see anybody digging in their heels and bending over backwards to defend him (like other anon(s) pointed out, the Kane fandom meltdown was... scarring, to say the least, and I have absolutely no patience for that, that is block on sight for me.) We're all in this fandom community together, do try to give people some grace to be upset, and maybe don't call them deranged or in need of professional help so readily.
(Which is to say, I agree with your stance!)
A little bit of a long read for some, but you broke down even more points and articulated parts I wish I could've come up with in some of my other anon responses.
I'm sure you're specifically talking about P.Kane (There is so many genuine problematic fucks in the league with the last name Kane, ironically). Though don't even get me started on that because I remember hearing stories about P.Kane through my brother even when I was 12 and seeing media gradually expose his problematic behaviours as well over time too. I am truly convinced anyone who's a fan of his new or old, just obsess over how hot he was in his early 20's and that's all they see when they think or hear of him, cause bro my man went downhill after a point, so it's like what are you even liking about this dude, cause I know it's not even about how he plays hockey LMAO... He literally has an open track record that with a 10 second search you can find everything problematic he's done the past decade, heck you even got grown men even saying fuck that dude too. His fangirls are definitely what I'd consider concerning.
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Iâm kinda wondering how youâre dealing with the frustration from the situation, as well, a fellow American. Its frustrating trying to explain to my 60 year old parents that you canât call it a war when the causalities are 1,600:26,000 and have to just be told âwar is always ugly, countries have rights to defend themselvesâ BS or well seeing our lovely nation spew more shit on the matter and American news channels interviewing IDF soldiers. Biggest pig alive bill Maher meeting with other white men to talk about how âyoung people donât know what theyâre talking aboutâ
I feel frustrated towards my nation and the efforts being put in because the disillusionment doesnât come from like wanting to give up or anything like that, but doing everything in your power to want to help people who are suffering only to takes 4 steps backwards bc of some ailing white man. I feel so embarrassed towards Palestine because my nation is putting blood on their soil, itâs like screaming at the top of your lungs but they only fill with water. Gah sorry to rant Iâm just home right now and thus have no one to talk to about it without starting an argument
first of all, im not america, im actually from north africa, living in europe! my entire family is aggresively pro-palestine, so thankfully no problems there.
it's incredibly frustrating to see other people be so ignorant and stupid! the media is trying very hard to push a narrative, but it isn't an excuse for anyone to not see that it is simply a genocide and nothing else. all the signs are there and more importantly, all the evidence of a genocide are there. i understand your emotions completely! the western media outlets are so so so biased and often just blatantly wrong in the articles they write that it makes me angry everytime i read them. living in the west means you practically have no voice. it's always freedom this democracy that but the fact that no country is doing ANYTHING despite all the demonstrations and vocal support for palestine is very telling on every government. but we should never lose hope, the difference between the attitude towards the genocide before and after this war is huge, there is progress that is being made. and we should also try our best to changte the mindset of the people around us. that is in my opinion so important! "it's like screaming at the top of your lungs but they only fill with water" is very well said. i can only imagine how it must be to actually have to live with people that don't want to see. i really wish you the best of luck!!
#dont apologize!!#having to see the horrors and then meeting with people who are like âmeh..â ......#it's how it usually was before this war when something in palestine happened#thankfully people are now far more pro palestine then before#the israeli casualties stand on 1.139 btw!#i hope i worded this ok#anon#asks
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[if you find it creepy that I comment on your mental health notes like a creeper, please say so]
Hey MJ. I read your notes about making zero progress and going backwards. I donât want to offer platitudes or condescend to you because i donât know what your life is like and what youâre dealing with, but i wanted you to know that from this internet strangerâs perspective, you are brave and strong. Because i look at your blog, and i see someone who is kind and compassionate, who loves passionately and unapologetically, someone who is still hopeful. And to me, that takes courage, that takes emotional strength and resilience, to still see beauty in the darkness, to put yourself out there where others can see, to deliberately choose love and kindness over and over again.
Yours is the only blog i visit regularly because you are witty and talented and unhinged in the best kind of way, yes, but above all because your blog is a safe place for me. Last week i had to put down my 14-year-old cat. It was one of the hardest things iâve ever had to do. I had a panic attack at work and had to take the rest of the day off. I got home and opened Tumblr and looked at your Dating Sim gif sets. And it just settled something deep inside me. Iâm still a mess, but when i need a smile or to escape for a little while, your blog is my go-to. Think of the prettiest pink sky, the softest soft hug, that is what your blog is to me. And all you ever had to do is be yourâtalented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally uniqueâself. đ
[you said that you sometimes find motivation in fannish things but not so much in other things. someone i respect very much once said that to be a fan of / be obsessed with something, that is living with love. those who know love and those who donât have very different qualities of life. i think itâs such a lovely way to describe hyperfixation: we are living with love]
i do not find it creepy, friend!! this is a public blog and i enjoy when people interact with my posts/tags. promise, itâs all fine! đ„°đ„°đ„°
hi! first of all, my DEEPEST condolences to you. i know how pets can be super important to us, my dog is already old and sometimes i try to prepare myself because i know sooner or later heâll have to leave me. but i donât think one can truly be ready for something like that. so i completely understand your struggle and even though itâs so incredibly hard, youâre dealing with it as best as you can and youâre sooo strong for that!! most days i donât think i live on without my dog. god knows how exactly iâm going to do that akdkskdkks but we gotta live one day at a time and make the most of them. itâs all we really have!
so iâm sending you lots of hugs and positive energy!!
when you mentioned visiting my blog regularly and feeling a little better after seeing my our dating sim gifset, i legit started crying đđđ (granted, i cried a lot today but this is the first happy tears. so thank you!)
i mean, i do like sharing about my struggles sometimes because i donât want people to think iâm just preaching toxic positivity and that i never go through tough times when thatâs simply not true. i hit rock bottom every day but happiness is made of lil moments and i get to have many of those throughout the day as well, most of them here making and sharing things i love with my mutuals.
itâs just my choice to focus on the good moments instead of the bad ones and i want to be defined by my choices, not my struggles.
but i didnât really expect to bring that kind of comfort to someone else and it really moves me that i can help you in any way, even if just for one second. losing a loved one is sooooooo hard, iâm happy that i can keep you company and that this can be a safe place for you, even if i didnât know that. so thank you for telling me about it!!
we are living with love đ„șđ„șđ„șđđđ that is so beautiful and so true!!!
and you know what? i can live without being loved but i simply cannot live without loving things and people but i wouldnât have it any other way!!! while being loved is one of the most wonderful things ever, i get to have little pieces of everything that i love in me as well and thatâs enough đ„°
thank you so much for reaching out!! for writing such lovely words, they really touched a very deeeeeeeeep part of my heart and i feel floored by your kindness.
takes a brave, strong and compassionate person to know what bravery, strength and compassion look like. so everything you see in me reflects exactly the type of person you are!! weâre all mirrors of our thoughts and actions!!!
iâm sure your cat had a lovely life and was very lucky to be loved by you!!!!!!!!!!
take care of yourself, angel!!!! love you â€ïžđ
#i canât stop crying#but thank you so much for being one of the best things to happen to me today â€ïžâ€ïžâ€ïž#anonymous#mj got mail!#favorite
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By the Shores of Silver Lake; by Laura Ingllas Wilder
This one turned out long, so I decided to look at it on its own.
By the Shores of Silver Lake picks up in Plum Creek, some time has passed since that Hopeful Christmas Eve were we left the Ingalls.
Baby sister Grace was born, but despite that happy occurrence, everyone is a bit sadder. The family came down with scarlet fever, and it's has left Mary blind and weakened.
Laura has become Mary's eyes, painting word pictures for her sister. This task and the fact that she has had to take over things that Mary will not be able to do, or has not recovered enough to do yet, has made her more mature, and patient.
Money is tight, with the grasshopper years not far behind them and doctor bills to be paid.
This understandably gloomy mood is interrupted when Laura's aunt Docia, Charles's sister, comes riding up to their door. She has a job offer for Pa. She and her husband are running a railroad camp in the Dakota Territory, and they need a bookkeeper and storekeeper. The pay is good and, Charles and Caroline decide that it is too good an opportunity to pass up. Mary isn't strong enough to travel, so, it is decided that Caroline and the girls will follow when she is well enough.
Off Charles goes, and a few months later the rest of the family boards a train. Their first time traveling this way.
Since I read these backwards, I also believe this is the first time the book mentions something that makes this daughter of a nurse twitch.
The communal drinking cup/dipper
It's one thing to have a cup shared between Mary and Laura, or having a family dipper for water ( you do what you can with what you have) but *one vessel * for a bunch of strangers to drink out of? I know, I know, knowledge of the transmission of sickness was different back then, but all I could think was ACK! That thing is made of TB and influenza!
Anyway, they all get to Dakota Territory where they interact with more people than they had in the first four books. Not just talking with people, but being around them. it's odd, because the reader is so use to having the Ingalls family being in open spaces, them being in a crowd seems closterphobic somehow, and is a sign of changing times.
Soon Pa comes for them and they head to the railroad camp on Silver Lake.
On the way there, the wagon is followed by a menacing man on horse back, Caroline is nervous, but then another man tall, in a red shirt and riding bareback, shows up and Pa assures them all that they will be okay, because that is Big Jerry, a good man who is half Native American. Sure enough Big Jerry keeps the potential trouble man away from the family. As with even positive potrayls of indigenous people, Big Jerry's introduction is problematic, because along with having Pa's seal of approval Big Jerry is also decribed thusly: as a gambler and poossible horse thief, a wild man, and also as moving with his horse "as if they were one animal." I get what is trying to be conveyed, Big Jerry is in sync with his horse, he knows his horse and his horse knows him, making riding effortless. But the word choice made me wince. I would have simply dropped the word "animal" but...
This passage is also difficult for me because the descriptions of landscape are great, and also, after Big Jerry rides off, there is a piece of writing that not only shows Laura's commitment to paint a beautiful world for Mary, but also how the two girls differ in personality.
"Laura let out her breath. 'Oh, Mary! The snow-white horse and the tall, brown man, with such a black head and a bright red shirt! The brown prairie all aroundâand they rode right into the sun as it was going down. Theyâll go on in the sun around the world.'
Mary thought a moment. Then she said, 'Laura, you know he couldnât ride into the sun. Heâs just riding along on the ground like anybody.'
But Laura did not feel that she had told a lie. What she had said was true too. Somehow that moment when the beautiful, free pony and the wild man rode into the sun would last forever" (Pg 62, Kindle edition).
Mary is very practical, very concrete in her imagination. Laura on the other hand is all feeling. Neither one is better than the other but I feel like it is good character development to show how these two viewpoints clash at times and cause annoyance to both girls.
The family gets to the camp and are met by Docia's family that includes cousins, as well as a surprise for Caroline, her brother Henry.
What follows is Laura and her cousin Lena having a lot of fun, riding Ponies, singing. There is a lot of fascination around the building of the railroads and seeing it done. Here the subtext is heavy.
Pa tells an excited Laura that the camp is a small one, and, one would guess, start to describe how they work together, but Ma stops him with the slightest shake of her head. Pa gets it and tells the girls (looking right at Laura) to steer clear of the workers.
Later, after Laura continues to be fascinated by how the building works, Pa says that he will take her to see.
Ma takes Laura aside and tells her to go if she must, but not to speak with any of the men in the camp, and not to take her cousin Lena, who while a good girl, was "boisterous ".
All of this comes on the heels of Laura meeting a woman who's 13 year old daughter had just gotten married.
WhT is being said without being said is that Caroline is understandably nervous. She has four daughters in the middle of a camp of men. Mary likes to stay home, but Laura is outgoing, curious, and brought up to be nice. Where Laura goes Carrie might want to follow. And cousin Lena is even more outgoing than Laura and Docia has not "curbed her as much as she might." (Pg. 95, Kindle edition).
She's afraid that someone might take advantage of the girls, either though convincing them that they wanted to marry them, or through force. If I imagine this part of the book from Caroline's perspective, it's a nightmare.
And continues to be honestly. At one point, all the workers revolt, because they are not getting their full month's pay at one time. Since Charles is the book and storekeeper they start to go after him. This is averted, but Caroline and the girls have a tense time of it.
The winter is cozy and relaxing, not least because the family has the whole camp town to themselves.
They spend the winter, after the camp is packed up, in The Surveyor's house with a stocked pantry, Pa finds the land that he wants to put a claim on, Reverend Alden from Walnut Grove comes by, tells the Ingalls about a college for the blind in Iowa, they make friends with Mr. Boast and his new wife.
And then what happens is the equivalent of when you open the door for one person and the entire building decides to evacuate and you happen to be the doorman.
The family is settling down after a busy holiday season with house guests when a wagon full of inexperienced men pull into De Smet and is on their way to another town, Heron. Charles is worried that if they donât let them stay they will get lost and freeze to death. So they feed and let the group stay the night.
And so begins another Nightmare for Caroline.
The people keep coming through, and eventually the Ingalls start charging for people to eat and stay. Meanwhile, the girls are pressed into kitchen duty and have to be locked in their room upstairs at night until Ma sounds the all clear. They do make a good chunk of money to go toward sending Mary to college.
Honestly, the rest of the book, save the the last few chapters, weren't all that interesting to me. Pa gets the claim, they move out if town and away from the steady stream of borders.
The most exciting thing that happens is that while planting trees on the claim, little Grace goes missing. After a frantic search, Laura finds her in a deep depression in the Prarie surrounded by violets.
Pa tells Laura that it was an old buffalo wallow. With the Buffalo mostly gone, their wallows have grown over with grass and given a good place for the flowers to grow.
The family settles into their claim shanty and they are finally home.
This book is very uneven for me. On the one hand, there is a lot to unpack. The building of the railroads calling people west simply because of the need for workers, coupled with the tantalizing promise of comparably cheap land, the challenges that presented. Ma's anxiety always just under the surface, and the new found hope for Mary that came from a visit from an old friend.
There is a tension in this book, between the family's desire to be self sufficient, interacting with the community on their terms, and the continuing settlement of the west making this a harder and harder thing to do.
This is symbolized by the dwindling population of Buffalo and Buffalo wolves. Pioneer Girl does talk a lot about this time, but it was all very similar to what was in the book.
The part that stood out to me was that Laura and cousin Lena use to sing when they milked the cows, after Lena and her family left Laura didn't feel like singing. Ma complained that she wasn't getting as much milk as usual. She then says that she pe4fored an experiment. Singing while she milked and then not singing. She found that the cows gave more milk when she sang. She says wryly that she had discovered this fifty years before an agricultural experiment station had figured it out. I enjoy it when Laura let's that kind of humor out.
All in all, there's a lot of stuff happening in this book, but it's not the best one.
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