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saltsicklover · 8 months

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Part Eight

Hey lovely people, here's another update for you! There might be a little bit of a wait for the next part, as this is pretty much everything I've had back written. I hope you enjoy it!

Title: Once an Asshole, Always an Asshole

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2500+

Rating: R

Warnings: Swearing, Crying, Tobacco, Smoking, the Daggers not knowing a damn thing about Bob.

Second Chance Romance!

Disclaimer: I do not own Bob Floyd, or anything related to Top Gun Maverick within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

---

Once Hangman and Phoenix stop yelling over each other, Bob doesn't bother trying to unshrink from himself. Hangman finally walked away, red in the face and angry. He wanted to hit Bob, he really did, but he knew better than to hit a fellow Aviator in the Hard Deck. So, to keep his fits at bay, he turned on his heel and headed for the front door- he needed to take a walk. That walk turned into red taillights shining through the windows of the Hard Deck, tires squealing as he took off.

Phoenix pulled herself up into one of the stools, the tension of her body wearing on her muscles. Bob slides up next to her, still curled in on himself. The pair sit in silence, the bustle of the bar filling the air around them. The jukebox plays some off-radio country song that Bob catches bits and pieces of as the noise from the crowd ebbs and flows.

It makes him think of her, how she still invades the pieces of his life the same way the song reaches his ears. Just when he hasn't thought of her, the memory of her would cross his mind again. And just a half a hour ago, she was standing right in front of him and he didn't even recognize her. That kills him. It makes all of the yelling he endured feel justified.

"I can't believe this," Natasha's voice is quiet now, her fingertips buried in the slicked back hair of her bun. "Goddamn it Bob! How am I supposed to bring her back to our place now? How am I supposed to ask her to come back to a place that is basically yours- I'm just sleeping in your fucking guest room,"

Bob opens his mouth to try and argue that the house is just as much hers as it is his, even though it's not technically true. He owns the house, hell, he owns a house outside of each base he has been stationed at. The moment he was no longer bound to the barracks with in processing, he went out and purchased something. A new home that never quite felt right. His pockets have always been lined with money from his Father's oil business- not that any of his fellow Aviators knew that fact.

It was easy to keep that secret, since no one really asked about him anyway. And when he moved Natasha in, he conveniently failed to mention that the house was paid off. She didn't ask, and he liked it that way. Just another way he could put space between the person he used to be and the person he is becoming. The person he is now is a work in quiet progress- at least it was until Sunny walked into the bar tonight.

"Oh my God, Sunny, I've been in here yelling at you instead of going after her!" Phoenix is disappointed in herself as she speaks, "God, Bob, you know I care about you, right? You're my back seater and I will continue doing everything in my power to make sure you make it home each day, but, I can't even stand to look at you right now. I've gotta go find Sunny,"

Natasha doesn't even make it two steps towards the door before Bob speaks.

"Rooster followed her out," He hooks a thumb behind him, gesturing to the back door, "They went that way, and I-" Bob's eyes glaze over with tears, anger bubbling inside of him at the thought of his fellow Aviator out with her.

"What is it?" Phoenix asks, her voice softer than it had been all night.

"If I hadn't lost her before, I sure have now,"

Phoenix moves to Bob's side, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You and I are going to talk tonight, about everything," She gives it a reassuring squeeze with as much emotion as she can muster before she is out the back door, leaving Bob alone in the crowded bar.

For the first time since he started hanging out at the Hard Deck, Bob reaches into his back pocket, pulling out his silver cigarette case. He plucks one of the small Cigarillos from the confines of the case, placing it between his teeth. With the strike of a match he lights the cigar; the smell of cherry tobacco permeates the air around him. The nicotine fills his lungs, and yet, he feels no less heavy.

---

"You know what really gets me?" Sunny mutters, a weak smile pulling over her lips. She leans her head back against Rooster's shoulder, sticky trails of past shed tears still damp on her cheeks. She balances an elbow on her knee, her hand coming up to brush over her brow. "God, it's so stupid,"

"What's that?" Bradley gives her elbows a small squeeze, encouraging her to continue.

"He didn't even smell like himself," Her words are quiet but so sure, yet she speaks them with a shake of her head. She tries to dismiss them the moment they leave her lips, slightly ashamed that she admitted that fact to a stranger.

"What do you mean?" Bradley leans a little, craning his neck to try and get a look at her face. He takes her hand from her brow, giving him a better look at her face now that she isn't hiding behind her hand. He gives it a gentle squeeze before letting go.

"Bobby, he-" A small sniffle breaks her sentence apart, "He has always smelled exactly like the tobacco he smokes, you know? It's cherry and smokey and full and God, that fucking smell gets me every single time, and yet, he- it wasn't-" Sunny attempts to keep more crying at bay, a hand coming up to cover her mouth. She lays her other hand over Bradley's shin, her nails digging into the light fabric of his jeans.

Bradley knows he shouldn't ask, but the confusion of the whole situation causes the words to leave his lips faster than his brain can stop them.

"Bob smokes?"

The question causes the loose hiccup of a sob to morph into a giggle, the whole thing sounding rather painful to Bradley, but a Sunny's lips quirk up in the corners.

"We are talking about the same person, right?" Sunny asks, wiping her her cheeks with her fingertips, "Bob Floyd, ladies man, notoriously rude but hard working so people tend to look past it, always walking around with the smell of tobacco caked to his clothes, that Bob Floyd?"

"I don't think we are talking about the same Bob Floyd, here Sunshine," Bradley admits, a light hint of laughter in his tone.

"Yeah, I'm starting to put that together," Sunny almost grumbles, her demeanor slumping along with her body.

"Hey, am I interrupting something?" Phoenix's voice breaks through the solitude Sunny and Bradley had found themselves in. Her words come out a bit apprehensively, unsure of how Sunny is going to take her presence.

"No, not at all," Bradley chimes in, squeezing the tops of Sunny's arms. She takes the cue, scootching herself forward and away from his embrace. Bradley pulls himself from the ground, "Take my place, I think you guys need to talk,"

He moves past Phoenix, a small, knowing smile on his face. He gives her shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he passes her, one that Natasha answers with a small upturn of her lips. She moves into the spot Rooster had just been occupying, sitting Sunny between her legs and pulling her friend back into her own chest.

"I see Bradley's mothering instincts got to you, too," Phoenix starts, feeling out the situation, "He has sat with me like this too. It was something his Mother used to do with him after his Father died. I think it's the only way he knows how to comfort some-,"

"I owe you an apology," Sunny's cuts her friend off, leaning just a bit away from her chest.

"What? No. I owe you and apology!" Natasha counters, grabbing at Sunny's shoulders.

"How could you have possibly known that your back seater is the man who broke my heart, huh?" Sunny laughs a small, tired laugh. Tears would run down her face if she hadn't been to dehydrated to cry. "I was the one who freaked out- God, I never thought I would see him again. I was purposely planning on avoiding the class reunion just so I wouldn't have to- I just, I should've been more adult about the situation. I feel like such an idiot."

Sunny hugs her knees to her chest, laying her chin atop them. Natasha rubs her friend's back carefully, her touch gentle over the exposed skin. She isn't quite sure what to say, so she just keeps reassuring Sunny that she isn't an idiot, no matter if she felt like one.

Phoenix goes over the sleeping arrangements in her head, Sunny was supposed to be in the empty bedroom across from her own, the guest bedroom that just to happened to share a jack and jill bathroom with Bob's.

When they moved in, he insisted that she take the master bedroom, claiming something about how women need more space. Nat found it ridiculous at the time, the dated concept no doubt having come from the mouth of his Mother as justification for his sister having the larger bedroom as children. But, since it worked in her favor, she didn't argue. The arrangement hadn't posed a problem until now.

"I can practically hear you thinking," Sunny chimes in, tapping the hands that sit on her own shoulders. Natasha shakes her head, lacing Sunny's fingers with her own.

"I am just-" Natasha takes a deep breath, bringing her forehead to rest on Sunny's shoulder, "I don't want to bring you back to my place now... Bob and I live together and I don't want to make things worse for you,"

"Nash, I am a big girl," A little low laugh escapes Sunny's lips, "Most of the time, at least. I can be civil. I didn't throw my drink on him, now did I?"

Natasha laughs at that, the sound a bit strangled as it leaves her throat.

"It's either that or you go stay with Hangman," Natasha jokes, her tone a bit too straight.

"I think that man might lose his mind if I am inside of his house," Sunny tightens her grip on Nat's hand, squeezing her fingers. "And I think the Navy would be pretty mad to find out that one of their Aviators died because a woman was sleeping in the next room,"

"You're totally right," There is a sort of joy in Natasha's voice now, "I'd of offered to make Rooster take you, but I'm not making you sleep on his awful couch, that is a special form of punishment,"

Sunny pushes herself up from Natasha's grasp. When she gets to her feet she turns to look at Natasha, a small smile on her lips. That was a look Natasha was happy to share with her friend, a smile of her own on her lips.

"Then lets get going home, okay? I desperately need a shower. I feel like I look like someone just found me dead in a river with all this crying. I can practically feel how swollen my face is," Sunny runs her hands under her eyes, trying to wipe away the feeling of the sticky trails of tears that have dried to her skin.

"You are the most beautiful corpse I've ever seen," Natasha winks, taking Sunny's outstretched hands. She pulls Nat up from the sand, neither of them bothering to brush the sand from their clothes.

They head around the outside of the building, arms link together. "I need to grab my bag from the back of Jake's truck, then we can head out, I'll order a rideshare to come pick us up," Sunny speaks as the round the corner to the parking lot.

"Oh god," Nat wipes her hand down her face, another large sigh escaping her lips. "Hangman left a while ago, pissed beyond belief and God only knows where he is now. I doubt he is at home, probably off at some Civ Bar, drinking up a storm. I'll call him, but you probably won't get your bag back until tomorrow,"

"Fuck, okay," Sunny sounds defeated.

"Hey, ladies!" Rooster's voice breaks through the breeze. He is leaned up against a large blue Toyota Bronco, arms crossed over his chest. The tear stains are still lightly visible on his shirt, but it has been tucked back in. "Your chariot awaits!"

Natasha shoots a look to Sunny, both shrugging before making their way to Rooster. Sunny lets out a large yawn, her hands coming up to shield her face.

"Hey, Rooster, I've gotta call Hangman and see if we can track down Sunny's bag, do you mind hanging out a minute?"

"Not at all, Phoenix, not at all," He smiles widely at the pair, "How you feeling, Sunshine?"

"I'm livin' the dream," Sunny speaks through another yawn, her eyelids beginning to droop.

"Want to climb in the back and lay down until we can get the situation with your bag sorted out?" Bradley opens the door, gesturing in with a wave of his hand. Sunny turns to see Natasha dialing her phone again, pacing back and fourth just a few feet away.

"Sounds like a plan," Sunny moves towards Rooster, taking his outstretched hand. She grabs onto the rail inside the door with her other before hoisting herself into the large vehicle. She moves around the folded down front seat before practically throwing herself against the bench in the back.

"Close your eyes, Sunshine. You deserve a rest. I'll wake you when we get to where we are going. For now, I'm gonna wrangle Phoenix and then we will head out, okay?" Rooster places a kind hand on the ankle of her boot. All Sunny can do is nod, a makeshift sound of agreeance coming from behind her closed lips.

She tucks a hand underneath her head before drifting off, her other hand resting over her stomach. Bradley slides the front seat back so Natasha can slide herself in before he waves her over.

"Any luck?" He asks her, the breeze caressing his skin. He runs a hand through his hair, messing the already unkempt curls atop his head.

"No," Natasha joins Rooster's side, looking at Sunny curled up in the back seat. "I guess we head home and I'll head to his place tomorrow and grab it from the truck myself. God knows where he ran off to tonight,"

Rooster agrees with a silent nod as Phoenix climbs into the passenger seat of the Bronco. She buckles her seatbelt hastily as Bradley climbs into the drivers side. He buckles his seatbelt as the engine roars to life, the whole vehicle shaking a bit. The group pulls of of the parking lot, headed towards Bob and Natasha's house.

#bob floyd x reader #bob floyd angst #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd x you #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd x you #once an asshole #best friend natasha trace #best friend phoenix #brother bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick fanfiction

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medschoolash · 2 years

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Struggling to see why I should feel sympathy for Alicent. Rhaenyra is the rightful heir who had consensual sex with someone she’s attracted to, she didn’t owe Alicent the truth - it was none of Alicent or Otto’s business. The fact we’re meant to be going “oh poor baby, she’s so upset” has me doing the exact opposite. She should get over to, it’s not like she told Rhaenyra about her secret meetings with the king either.

ohh Anon thank you so much for this ask (also sorry it took me a few days to reply). After last night I became a hardcore Rhaenyra Targaryen defender. You're right, Alicent was not sympathetic at all this last episode. I had the exact opposite reaction to her antics and I'm already annoyed by the justifications out there from some of her hardcore defenders. I was planning on doing a separate essay this week but since you asked I'll just go for it now.

So here goes.

In Defense of Rhaenyra Targaryen:

In this essay, I will......

establish that Rhaenyra never ever got a fair shot and Alicent is a jealous bitter woman who believes she's powerful but is truly just a perfectly crafted pawn of her father and the patriarchy.

I feel like a common theme among some of the viewers has been that Alicent's extreme actions this episode make sense and being upset at Rhaenyra is justified and a few times I sat there reading it trying to figure out if I watched the same show because it's just such a nonsensical conclusion to make.

let's start with the first complaint

"Rhaenyra's lie got Otto removed as hand"

Lie. OTTO'S OWN AMBITION IS WHAT GOT HIM REMOVED AS HAND. NOT RHAENYRA'S LIE.

Otto has had a conflict of interest this entire time. The moment he pimped his daughter out to the king to advance his agenda is the moment is job became precarious. The man had been plotting to have Aegon take the throne in place of Rhaenyra this whole time. He was always going to make a move to convince Viscerys to disinherit her and that move was always going to be extremely risky but I don't think Otto even realized how risky it was because of his arrogance and his belief that he could easily manipulate Viscerys. Daemon called this from episode 1 when he told Viscerys that Otto was a vulture preying on his weakness and Viscery didn't listen. The man was so blinded he didn't even realize Alicent was a carefully planned plot by her father until the last episode. Because he was so arrogant and he underestimated how much Viscerys loves Rhaenyra (of course a man who pimped out his own daughter would think other fathers don't give a damn about theirs) he didn't expect his actions would ever lead to Viscerys actually doubling down on Rhaenyra as heir. If it wasn't this scandal it was going to be another crafted up by him to get rid of her. So Rhaenyra's lie didn't directly lead to shit, besides exposing otto as the conniving schemer that he always was and he did that on his own. Viscerys didn't even believe Rhaenyra. Like I'm almost positive the man truly believes Daemon took his daughter's maidenhead so how can it all be blamed on Rhaenyra lying? Moral of the story is Otto would still be hand if he wasn't ambitious and knew how to mind his own fucking business.

Speaking of minding one's own business that brings me to the next complaint

"Rhaenyra lied to Alicent and Alicent was supposed to be her friend"

Somebody, anybody please tell me why who Rhaenyra decides to pussy pop for is Alicen't business? Why exactly was Alicent owed the truth on what Rhaenyra did that night and with who? Does Alicent have some sorta ownership over Rhaenyra's vagina? Not to mention Rhaenyra technically didn't even completely lie to her. She admitted they went to the brothel and she said that Daemon left her there and they didn't have sex, both of which were true events. Alicent asked her if she had sex with DAEMON. She never asked her if she had sex with anybody else. Rhaenyra didn't have sex with Daemon. Her sexual encounter with Criston wasn't her damn business and she never asked so how can you claim you were lied to.

Not to mention how is Rhaenyra being villainized for maintaining her own privacy when Alicent was the first one to deceive someone in his friendship? Did Alicent tell a grieving Rhaenyra that she was spending time with her father? No, she did not. Did Alicent tell Rhaenyra that she was sitting in meetings with her father who is straight up telling her he's working to replace her as heir to the throne? No, she did not. If she was such a concerned friend who valued transparency why has she never been transparent with Rhaenyra? When has Alicent ever divulged information to Rhaenyra that could work against her? So she's owed transparency but Rhaenyra isn't?

What good would telling Alicent the truth do for Rhaenyra? Would Alicent have been any less judgemental? She would still be looking at Rhaenyra like an unrepentant whore. If anything telling the truth would have done more harm than good because from Rhaenyra's perspective Criston could have gotten in trouble and now the mother of the other person threatening her succession would have information she could use against her. What was stopping Alicent from trying to convince Viscerys that his whore daughter is going to bring shame to his reign if he doesn't replace her with their son? So why tell her the truth? Why was she owed the truth in the first place?

If anything Alicent's behavior proved exactly why Rhaenyra shouldn't have told her a damn thing. She found out Rhaenyra had sex and decided to basically declare war like that's completely rational behavior over something that was already cleaned up nicely by Viscerys. Not a single soul knew Rhaenyra fucked Criston and Rhaenyra's betrothal to the richest house in the realm was already secured so what harm did Rhaenyra's sexual exploits bring politically? The only thing it hurt was her feelings and instead of trying to talk it out or calm down she decides she's done with rhaenyra and is gonna come for her birthright. All this over the fact that Rhaenyra had sex. BECAUSE RHAENYRA HAD THE AUDACITY TO MAKE A CHOICE ABOUT HER BODY AND NOT DIVULGE THE DETAILS OF THAT CHOICE TO PEOPLE WHO AREN'T OWED ANYTHING IN THE FIRST PLACE.

And this brings me to my biggest point. At this point, Alicent is willingly a tool for the patriarchy and that's her ultimate problem. She resents that she was dangled to viscerys and is a moist empty hole and baby maker. The only way she can cope with her own circumstances is by convincing herself that living within a strict patriarchal society is actually the best way to live a life. The freedom Viscerys allows Rhaenyra spits in the face of her only coping mechanism. Viscerys gives Rhaenyra a choice in her marriage. Rhaenyra gets to explore her sexual desire in the way men get to explore their sexual desire and even when it angers her father he doesn't discard her for her behavior, he actually protects her by making sure she doesn't have any unintended consequences that could jeopardize her status as heir and by brokering the perfect marriage agreement for her. None of this aligns with what Alicent believes is right according to the patriarchy. Rhaenyra is not doing her duty as a woman and is being protected and rewarded while she's doing her duty and is being ignored but instead of challenging her own belief system and the system as a whole in the way that Rhaenyra has done more than once, she doubles down on it. She holds on even tighter to the ideas of the patriarchy and starts to resent Rhaenyra for constantly reminding her of her own delusions that she willingly becomes a tool for it. She's about to do everything she can to destroy a woman who has the audacity to live her life outside of the narrow confines of what the realm thinks womanhood should entail WITH THE BLESSING OF ALL OF THE MEN AROUND HER so that she can be the righteous woman in the wings, the exemplary woman of the patriarchy who does the "right" thing by propping up a different heir solely because he has a penis.

Because that's really what all this hoopla comes down to. Daemon said it best. The men can run around in every brothel in the city, have as many mistresses and bastards as they want, and experience whatever sexual desire they want and no one bats an eye but women in Westeros absolutely can not. They can't be true heirs because they don't have a penis, they can't want to have sex, and they can't want anything besides to be a support for their husbands and nurturing mothers. The second they do anything outside of these limited things they are horrid women who can't be trusted with the realm. That's why some fans think Rhaenyra committed a horrible sin for fucking and not being transparent bout who she was fucking. That's why people think Rhaenyra is to blame for Criston's actions even though he had CONSENSUAL sex with her ONE time and she never ever gave him the impression it was some intense love connection. Deluding yourself to believe a princess and heir to a throne would ever reasonably give that up to be your poor and bored little wife is a glaring example of patriatchy-inspired delusion but Rhaenyra is the bad person here. She doesn't owe him a relationship, she doesn't owe him shit but she's at fault for everything. It's why you have people claiming Rhaenyra should be removed as heir because by the age of 19 she hasn't "shown she can be a good queen" even though her replacement would be a whole ass toddler who hasn't done a single thing so show he can be a better alternative besides being born with a penis.

It's not Rhaenyra's fault she is not brainwashed by the patriarchy like Alicent. It's not Rhaenyra's fault that Alicent has no real thoughts of her own, only the thoughts of the men around her that she's adopted as her own. Why should Rhaenyra have to play by Alicent's rules of who a woman should be and how she should behave? Fuck her and her precious patriarchy. Even if/when things go wrong for Rhaenyra I'll always be glad she didn't bow down and accept the confines Alicent and the rest of the realm tried to place on her. If/when she dies at least she dies as a woman who navigated a close-minded society on her own terms. That's better than going to the grave as a repressed and miserable obedient pawn for a patriarchy that will forget your name before your body is even cold.

#Rhaenyra Targaryen #anti alicent hightower #HOTD #I didn't even feel that strongly about Alicent before this last episode #it's team fuck alicent over here #In Defense of Rhaenyra Targaryen #HOTD meta

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la-principessa-nuova · 14 days

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I am completely unsure whether my mom deep down has realized that I’m trans and is refusing to acknowledge it or if she genuinely believes that I am just trying to push myself to experiment more with my fashion choices.

But my attempts to alleviate dysphoria without coming out did take an expensive turn today. I recently bought a few pairs of fem glasses (2 very cheap ones and one pair the same price as what I normally get), and one of them has since not only become my favorite pair, but is now what I think of as “my glasses”, rather than my boymode glasses (which are technically gender neutral, I just don’t really like the style anymore).

But now I feel weird seeing myself in my old glasses, so I wanted to find some way to justify wearing my new ones. The problem is they are rose gold, and while I 100% could wear these in public and nobody would notice or care, nor should they, my parents will look closely if I show up with new glasses of a different style and then they will confront me about them being rose gold.

So today my mom decided the fun thing to talk about would be to look at old pictures of me when my weight was healthier and had less hair loss, and say how much better I looked (and I agree, I looked way better objectively, but it does not feel like me and I have no desire to look like that again, so the whole thing just left me feeling awful and trying not to cry), so I decided to try and put a positive spin on it by playing a “game” where I picked out a pair of glasses and asked her to pick one for me, and I said it should be a completely different style, and then maybe if I liked one of them and it was cheap enough I’d get it.

So I picked a pair that looked basically like my current ones but cheaper and gold instead of rose gold, and she picked one that was basically exactly like my current glasses, but more masculine and without a frame on the bottom of the lens. And she was very against the ones I picked out.

So I decided to try and twist it a bit to sound like a spur of the moment thing and basically (but in a more convincing way) said that’s almost the same as my current glasses and she’s so stuck in seeing me in this same style, so just to prove a point about needing to try new styles and get used it it I’m going to buy the ones I picked out.

So later on I went and found a similar pair (I wasn’t quite happy with that pair), and bought them. I would have gotten the same ones I like in a different color, but they were kind of pricy (at least for me) and I didn’t want to spend that much. But also I found a rainbow frame that I think would be really fun for pride (the organization I work for is always short on people to volunteer for the pride parade, so I have a good excuse to go without coming out).

So now that’s 5 new pairs of glasses this year so far. Granted, 3 of them are very cheap and the other two are still cheaper than anything I bought back when I bought glasses at physical stores, but still. Especially buying a new pair that’s just a slightly worse version of my current glasses in a slightly different color because societal expectations of the gender I was wrongly assigned say that a slight red tint makes these unacceptable, and I’m not quite ready to come out and even though I could totally get away with these ones anyway normally, my parents are extra attentive and judgy about that sort of thing. If any of those things weren’t true I would just wear these day to day.

But I think it’s important that I slowly start dressing more like how I want to, to minimize the amount that it feels like I’m “suddenly a different person” when I come out.

#transgender #trans #lgbt

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randomidiocyncrazies · 1 year

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Huh, I gotta say I hadn't considered the sleeper agent brainwashing angle. I feel like it would've been telegraphed more if that kind of tech/method was available, but at the same time I could believe it if Suletta does turn out to be literally brainwashed.

I personally hope it doesn't turn out like that—imo there wasn't enough set-up so it feels a bit random for me, and I think taking Suletta's agency/culpability away does a major disservice of the themes—but I am not familiar enough with the main writer's style to predict if he'd go for it.

I think people are free to speculate that Prospera literally brainwashed her, and the writer can justify it retroactively... BUT from a thematic standpoint, I think Suletta has to be accountable for her choices and actions. (Or as responsible as someone who was groomed from childhood is accountable for the choices they make—she technically has the freedom to make choices, but we know her 'freedom' is limited and her choices aren't necessarily informed, since she was manipulated by Propera for the goal to carry out her revenge.) If it was just straight up brainwashing/mind control, it entirely removes Suetta's agency from the entire situation. I think the narrative loses nuance if you can basically say Suletta literally isn't responsible at all. Sure, she'll still feel guilt once she breaks free of the brainwashing, and there's a compelling narrative in processing the violation of her identity/agency, but imo it flattens her character into just a victim who literally had no choice.

A literal brainwashing narrative usually ends with the victim breaking free from it eventually; imo it’s a far more perilous and painful journey to realize you’ve actively participated in some really fucked up shit out of your own free will* and start working on improving yourself. Letting Suletta have (some degree) of agency in this situation heightens the horror/heartbreak of the situation. She chooses to cheerfully dehumanize another person—she acts like she squished a bug, not a person—as long as she feels justified in doing so. After all, that guy was going to kill Miorine, right? She saved someone she loves, right? That person was a bad guy, right? Enemies want to hurt the people she loves, so they're evil, and she doesn't have to think of them as normal people, right? (And dehumanization of the 'other', such as enemy combatants, is a problem in real life as well.)

It’s tragic not just because Suletta killed a guy violently—he was going to kill Miorine, and he's an enemy combatant in an armed conflict, so killing him made sense in tge situation—but specifically because she seemed to have stopped seeing her opponents as human beings. It’s unsettling because we know she’s a shy girl who wants to do the right thing that we’ve been rooting for in these past 11 episodes. To see that idealistic girl choosing to accept her mother’s philosophy and stop seeing other people as human, when it’s crystal clear that her mom is just using her and twisting her into a tool, hurts a lot.

And speaking of tools... a ‘brainwashed agent’ narrative certainly is one way to explore the theme of tools—a tool has no agency—and the classic “breaking out of mind control” story can be really uplifting and compelling. Reconnecting with your old values, finding the true self within your current state, throwing off someone else’s control to reclaim your boundaries and agency is extremely cool and sexy. But with the hellscape capitalist corpocracy setting, I feel like showing the dehumanization and tool-ification of people (especially minors) without literal brainwashing seems more in line with the show’s social commentary? Those with power and authority can coerce those without easily, and people even willingly** become tools of their own free will in order to survive.

then again, I’ve been completely wrong about these things before. and like I said, narratives about breaking out of brainwashing can be very compelling as well!

*or as much ‘free will’ someone who was groomed and manipulated from childhood can have, anyway.

** to the extent that someone who has no other real choice can have free will, anyway.

#replies #knowledgeseeker01 #gwitch spoilers #gwitch meta #gwitch #gundam

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arcsin27 · 1 year

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Justifying to myself why the narrative foils are who I think they are using the themes I identified in that other post.

Keep in mind 1. My memory can be hazy 2. Im not the best at criticism, characterization, or theme analysis. I’m kinda just vibin

Maki (P1): Escape - Although it was technically Kandori’s doing, the alternate reality was created by Maki. It was her ideal world, an internal place she could retreat to to escape her bleak life. She represents the idea that running and hiding - to the point of escaping life entirely and wishing to die - is acceptable until the party helps her realize the errors in this way of thinking. I’d bet Kandori could fit this theme too to some degree but I straight up can’t remember :(

Jun (P2IS): Dreams - Jun’s entire character revolves around dreams. This isn’t a bad thing; the main party is very similar in this regard. The main problem comes from his methodology. Instead of believing in obtaining dreams through hard work and dedication, he instead grants them like wishes. The party, especially Maya, teaches him that this cheapens them. Secondary issues include his ability to steal dreams, leaving people as empty husks that fade away without accomplishing anything, and his granting of destructive dreams that are detrimental to those around the dreamer.

Sudou(?) (P2EP): Acceptance - So I’m not really sure about this one… I never really thought about who the antagonist of p2ep is. Doesn’t help that I didn’t understand and don’t remember the plot :|. If I recall, Tatsuya Sudou is a major antagonist because he could not accept his situation. He hated his father and his life, and upon learning of the Other Side, he could not accept his reality either. The party struggles with acceptance as well, but while they learned to cope and move forward, Tatsuya dies still wishing things were different, even if they could never be. I’m assuming Tatsuzou is also a good fit but I deadass cannot remember a thing about him lmao maybe others will have a proper answer for this entry

Ryoji (P3): Death - Yeah yeah Ikutsuki and even Takaya probably fit better but still. I like him more lol. But he still fits regardless. The theme of the game is basically to disregard or overcome death, right? Well Ryoji is death itself. Plus, Makoto is withdrawn and shuts the world out, whereas Ryoji is open and friendly and sees the beauty in life. Then they switch. Makoto wants to hold onto life and defeat death, but Ryoji tells him it is impossible. He becomes inevitability and ignorance while Makoto becomes rebellion and openness. But also, since Ikutsuki and Takaya want to bring about death and blindness to the world they’d also work pretty well. Maybe it’s because they get dealt with quickly that I don’t see them very well in this position? Or because Ryoji is more perfectly tailored to Makoto than the others? Or maybe I just like Ryoji lol

Adachi (P4): Truth - Ngl I didn’t finish this one so I don’t actually know much about Adachi, sorry :( I know he is tailored for Narukami, like Ryoji is for Makoto, so just with that he’s basically confirmed to be the narrative foil in my eyes lmao. From what I’ve heard, and from the wild guesses I’ve made, I’d think that Adachi is the type of foil that’s identical to the other instead of opposite? He is living his true self, and he doesn’t care what others think of this decision. Narukami also chooses to be his true self of course, that’s the point of the game. I’m guessing the difference is that Narukami chose kindness as his truth while Adachi chose hatred? Idk I’ll need help with this one

Akechi (P5): Rebellion - Akechi is the narrative foil. Do I have to explain it? The game beats you over the head with it no matter the version. Chosen to be opposing forces by god, “two sides same coin,” constantly comparing themselves to each other, etc. The tricky thing is how exactly they foil each other. Just a minute ago I was explaining Akechi to someone and out of nowhere I said that his sense of justice serves himself while Ren’s serves others, so there’s that. Wait it’s rebellion shit uh… well same deal, Ren rebels against adults in power to help others while Akechi rebels against adults in power to help himself. It could also be because Ren’s rebellion is meant to fix things and heal society while Akechi’s is meant to destroy and give him vengeance. They’ve both been abused and heals down by adults and society, but while Ren rebels against those who wronged him, Akechi just sort of lashes out and anyone. Plus, Akechi is actually not rebelling for most of the game, but is under the strict control of a said adult in power. Meanwhile Ren is completely free, rebelling against adults instead of being under their thumb. I’d like to note I only have so many options because, like I said, I’m not the best analyzer. Each of them sound accurate to me but idk their characters and the themes well enough to choose one ;-;

#long post #persona series #persona #meta analysis #narrative foil #narrative foils #maki sonomura #Jun #tatsuya sudou #ryoji #adachi #akechi

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zeciex · 6 months

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If you don't desire to answer this ask for whatever reason please do ignore it! I won't mind!

So I've been reading some of your asks from other people regarding Alys and a future, possible cheating storyline and, while I'm relieved that it will all be an illusion and Aemond won't cheat on Daenera, I have to wonder if there will be an affair on her side with somebody else as revenge and a way to get back at Aemond for his affair with Alys? Obviously we as readers will know he will be innocent but Daenera won't (at least for a while) and I fear she may choose do to that just to get even with him.

Some other fics that used similar tropes in the past (miscommunications or misunderstandings that led the main OFC to believe Aemond cheated on her) went immediately afterwards with the retributive affair thing and I believe it kinda ruined the whole thing considering most of them still had the main couple as endgame together with a happy ending, which, frankly, seems rather forced since I don't think anyone, man or woman, should just forgive their partner for cheating on them...just no, please. Also, cheating as revenge on your loved one because you believe they betrayed you and were the first one to cheat only for later to find out they were innocent the whole time…well, I don't see how a relationship can recover from this honestly. Same goes for when both end up actually cheating and then they make up because "true love conquers all" I guess??

Not to mention that as a reader there's nothing worse than investing a lot of your time reading a long fic and rooting for the main couple (even if it ends in tragedy) only for a cheating plotline to be introduced solely for angst and drama…Of course authors don't owe readers anything and it's our own fault and problem if we start a fic that features cheating and has been correctly tagged, but there have also been cases in which some authors refused to tag it and if they did they only did so after being called out (and still tagged it as "justified affair" or things like that) or if they refused to do so they argued that it's not technically cheating and usually they explain how the character who cheats doesn't consider themselves to still be together with their loved one for it to count as cheating or other convoluted explanations. Like, just say your character cheated and be done with it.

And by the way I'm aware I'm a bit hypocritical with this since Daenera did actually cheat on her husband with Aemond BUT I can't bring myself to care considering it was a arranged marriage with an abusive husband. In cases like this I'm supportive of anyone who wants to have an actual choice in their life and find some love with somebody else. However, when two characters have clearly been established as each other's true love, well, I don't think, no matter how justified the reason behind the cheating seems to be, the relationship can recover from it.

While Daenera is 100% a petty bitch, I don't see her having an affair with someone else because she thinks Aemond is cheating. The only reason she ever had an affair in the first place (with Aemond) was because she didn't want her marriage, didn't find satisfaction in it, and because she's subconsciously in love with Aemond. Is she hypocritical? Yes. But would she cheat on someone she love/respect, even if she thinks he cheats on her? No.

On AO3 I wrote in the tags that cheating happens in the fic, but only cheating WITH Aemond. And regarding Alys, there will be no cheating.

Aemond will not cheat on Daenera, but there will be the illusion for it because of Alys (and drama/angst, I'm a slut for that, okay?)

And Daenera will not get revenge by cheating on Aemond. At that point, she's going through some shit. Even if she wasn't going through shit, she'd be more likely to literally KILL Aemond/Alys, or set up some elaborate scheme that will ruin the moth.

Daenera is going to be so fucking pissed, and she since she's going through some shit, she'll be inclined for murder and havoc. I call it her 'bloody bitch-era'.

I'm not into the whole cheating thing either, I don't see it as something a relationship can really recover from (I say as if Aemond doesn't literally murder her brother). lol murder is one thing, but cheating is another level of betrayal. Nah, I'm not with it.

#A Vow of Blood #ask & answer

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spurgie-cousin · 1 year

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Thank you for talking about the mom shaming!! It’s so ridiculous. The smallest things get blown up by these self righteous losers. That sounds harsh but clearly Carlin cares about her child and knows if her child is used to chewing on food like that. I highly doubt that was the first time she’s eaten sausage. And these people are spending so much time looking and justifying their upset.

Being technically right about something doesn’t stop you from being an asshole. Is it true? Is it helpful? Is it inspiring? Is it necessary? Is it kind?

There are ways to address something potentially dangerous without turning up your nose at someone behind an anonymous screen.

There are lots of things to criticize but how someone cuts their child’s food is a low bar. Mom shaming seems to have never ending energy from these people.

100% absolutely, the thing that gets me is the "wow what an idiot" attitude behind those comments and fundie reddit aims so many things like that at Carlin for no reason. I don't care what you say or what your reason is for saying it, if you can't do it in a way that doesn't insult the intelligence of other moms just trying to do their best, you can shove your 'recommendation' all the way up your ass bc that's shaming.

Idk I know so many moms, I want to help moms, I've done some form of consistent childcare since I was 11 (I'm now 31 and still doing it for context) and I just feel like harsh judgment over small things doesn't help anyone. I truly believe we're the kind of social animals that are meant to raise kids as a community and in Western society esp we often don't, which makes it fucking hard as hell.

All good mothers are worried they're doing it wrong, the last thing in the world they need is some idiot broadbrushing certain behaviors as negligent or stupid or uncaring, esp if they're getting that message secondhand from some idiot's comment about Carlin Stewart on instagram. Just be fucking nice ya know??? Moms got it hard enough already.

#i get so heated over mistreated moms!!!! no matter the religious affiliation #what path in life is more terrifying gratifying uncertain than motherhood ya know #support the fuckin moms

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ksgrip · 2 years

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Hi you all!

I am not that much of an user but since I have seen quite a few posts regarding the last TDP season and some conclusions regarding the main pairing #rayllum

I would like to give a different perspective that may complete some opinions or would help settle down angry thoughts.

This post is dedicated to you @zuppizup since you gathered a few thoughts of mine quite well but I would like to elaborate upon.

Some people have said that with the latest season the events of TTM and Dear Rayla feel pointless and I disagree.

I believe this comes from a place of anger and not really from a detached outlook on what that setup implied. It's true we were lead to believe that the separation would have a greater impact within THIS season which now we now is not technically true (nor false).

However and I strongly underline this, we were not miss lead. Many people point out this was a setup season and it plainly shows itself to be as such as in this season we don't close plot points previously setup by the novels, but we have been given the framework with which those plots may be undertaken in further seasons.

For example and specially regarding Rayla and Callum.

We can see that from our POV as watchers readers, Rayla actively saying "sorry" was needed and that she didn't say it by now it's weird. However we can also see she is fully prepared to talk about their conflict (several times) and just hear him out before giving him even an explanation. Saying sorry would only make sense if they actively talk their problems out. Something she tried but has yet to happen because Callum was not yet ready (except you damm Soren, that moment was painful in the storm spire).

This is important because she is showing to not come from a place of justifying herself but being ready to accept her own failings, prioritizing his view on things before trying to give any reason why she left.

With the novels we have a clear outlook why she left when she was 15, or at least how she rationalized it. The season shows she has indeed changed and things have happened in those two years, enough for her to be less recognizable. However those reasons are things we as watchers demand NOW and not necessarily are things that won't be tackled (which we all pretty much agree they will be) or that were not even taken into account.

Just to give an example:

Why did Rayla say she risked loosing him out of just in quest of revenge? When in TTM it was stablished that it came from a place of missgided love? Does that mean she didn't do it for him them? Obviously not.

That monologue is not explaining herself to Callum. It is her acknowledging that her obsession perhaps didn't come from a place of such benign motivation as love, but perhaps there was a sense of revenge there. This is her trying to make ammends why perhaps she made a mistake. It is not a justification to Callum, nor us the watchers to go and think she did it for revenge and not in trying to protect Callum.

Things are not binary. Both sentiments are compatible. It is her acknowledging her actions to herself. In a sense that "yes I fucked up, I believed it was just to protect you but perhaps and with insight of years there was more to it".

Mind you all the points i bring up depend on what is expressed in future seasons but things are not that black.

We we know for sure by now is that:

Rayla was obsessed with Viren. She left believing it was just to protect Callum but now perhaps she aknowledges in her maturity the obsession came from a more complex reasoning.

Rayla has been trying to listen to Callum and has not even attempted to justify herself for now.

Callum asked for time and time he has been given. Perhaps saying sorry was not the right decision in this state for now.

They are going to talk things out.

Callum is now open to her being back, and they will have talk. This season had in mind not mending the relationship now or giving us in our need for appeasement her saying sorry and begin for forgiveness but for her making it clear she wants to be back and will listen to whatever he will say. Does anyone here believe she won't say sorry, really?

All these points have nothing to do with other grievances such as Callum not reaction to her leaving the next morning or Ezran being sent on his merry way to another quests without a serious explanation as to why the king can be put in danger. Those are separate points from the relationship and are more due to the break of suspension of disbelief.

The season has problems but so did previous ones. I am glad people are pointing them out because feedback will help the authors. But let's not get carried away and affirm that previous novels and setup are for nothing because in my opinion this without a doubt not truetrue and we don't even have enough information to even arrive to such conclusion.

We have just not reached a point of the story were we can even answer those questions, but I am confident that will be shown and explained properly.

Rayla has changed, we have yet to be shown what she did or hoe that impacted her but the point of this season was setting up Aravos, her arriving back and showing that Callum is hurt because of her actions and was yet to be ready to even acknowledge her properly.

When they talk, which they will I am sure it will be acknowledge why she left (because now for us as watchers and for Callum as someone who has been hurt there is no reason, which who in their right mind thinks this wont be explained)

If by season the end of season 5 we have yet to know all these whys then yes we can pull out the torches. And it is needed to make the point now just so the authors can adjust having this in mind but season 4 is season 1 with previous knowledge of things, nothing more nothing less.

Thanks for listening to my pep talk.

#rayllum #tdp spoilers #tdp rayla #tdp season 4

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m0srael · 2 years

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The Pleasure of a Fleeting Year, Pts. 61-69

Read on Ao3! Catching up slowly but surely! This is all the August installments as a single update to avoid obnoxiously flooding the tl and prolonging this any further than necessary 😅. Thanks as always to @softlystarstruck for holding my hand 💕.

61: 50 words x 2 for Criminal by Britney Spears, lyrics: mama, I'm in love with a criminal 62: 50 words x 2 for Starfish 63: 100 words for The Space Between by Dave Matthews Band, lyrics: The space between; The tears we cry; Is the laughter that keeps us coming back for more [cw: grief] 64: 250 words for Shoelaces 65: 100 words for You're Somebody Else by Flora Cash, lyrics: Well you look like yourself; But you're somebody else; Only it ain't on the surface 66: 50 words x 2 for Trust Me 67: 50 words x 2 for Dancing with a Stranger by Sam Smith, lyrics: Can you light the fire? 68: 50 words x 2 for Sticky nsfw 69: 250 words for Evidence I’m writing a continuous story in microfics for all of the 2022 @drarrymicrofic prompts, and this is the sixty-first thru the sixty-ninth installments.

Part 61

August 2nd, 2017: Draco “How do you think your parents would feel about us? This—” He doesn’t know why he does it, pricks at Harry like this. Maybe he’s worried that Harry will forget who he is. Or, if Harry’s affection for him were so easily challenged, he could justify the pain of leaving. * August 2nd, 2017: Harry Draco says things like this sometimes, out of the blue. Harry knows now that it’s just Draco trying to protect the softest parts of himself. “From what I know, they understood true love better than anyone.” Draco flushes and rolls his eyes. “They’d thank you for reminding me to live.”

Part 62

August 5th, 2017: Star “Scorp told me that it takes thousands of years for starlight to reach Earth.” Draco hums sleepily. Harry is silent, and then— “It’s fitting that you’re named after a constellation, then, don’t you think? Your light was always there, it just took a bit longer for me to see it.” * August 5th, 2017: Fish “You don’t believe in fate? Even after—” “Especially after,” Harry says. “I think we’ve all cast a line into the universe, hoping we’ve baited the hook with just the right things to reel in what we think we deserve.” “And you caught me.” “Must have chosen the right lure, then.”

Part 63

August 9th, 2017 “I forgot,” Teddy says, his voice watery and small. “Forgot what?” Draco asks, concerned. “It was six months yesterday. Since gran…” Teddy’s mouth twists up and he squeezes his eyes shut to try and keep the tears inside. “Oh, Ted, it’s okay. You don’t have to—” “She’s been dead six months and I was playing a fucking Quidditch match with the Weasleys, and—” His voice breaks, and the tears slip free. Draco pulls him into a tight hug until his breathing evens out again. “Being sad isn’t the same as remembering.” Teddy shrugs, sniffles wetly. “Your joy is her legacy.”

Part 64

August 12th, 2017 “Edward, I asked you to tie your shoe—” “Okay, okay! Calm down, bloody hell…” “What did I tell you about cursing?!” Draco hisses. Draco glares until Teddy slumps grumpily onto one of the benches outside the courtroom. He knows he’s being unreasonable, but anxiety has clogged his mental filter and shortened his temper. He’s argued enough custody cases that went sideways at the last minute, decided on some small technicality, so he knows not to take any chances. “Hey, what’s going on?” Harry slips his arm around Draco’s waist, the weight a grounding comfort. Scorpius sweetly offers to tie Teddy’s shoe for him. He squeaks indignantly when Teddy scowls and waves him off. “Maybe we shouldn’t have done this. The Vow we made is enough we don’t need to adopt him—” Harry pulls him closer and places a kiss on his temple. “We’ve talked this through a thousand times. The Vow only lasts until he’s of age, this is…more than that.” Draco chews on his lip. He nods, hesitantly. “This is family, Draco. Is that it? Are you having second thoughts because—” “I don’t want to lose this,” Draco blurts. “Fuck. I know you’re you, but I’m me. And we aren’t married, and there’s Scorpius, and—” Harry shifts around and wraps both arms around Draco from behind, pulling Draco back until he’s supporting most of Draco’s weight. “Nothing anybody says will take him from us. Or you from us.” He sounds unassailably certain. “And about the marriage issue…” “Fuck off.”

Part 65

August 16th, 2017 “Hey, Harry?” Teddy sounds reluctant. “Hm?” Harry glances up, and then sets his tea and newspaper down when he sees the way Teddy is twisting his hands in front of himself, his sleeves pulled down over his fists. “I…um. Thank you.” “For what?” Teddy shrugs and flushes all the way up to the tips of his hair, which turn an embarrassed pink. He looks so young. “For putting up with me, for…keeping me. I know I haven’t been easy—” Harry pulls Teddy into his chest. “There was never any doubt, Ted. Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

Part 66

August 19th, 2017: Harry Trust built on words is flimsy at best. Harry learned too early not to believe in promises, in commitments made only when they serve the maker. Draco’s shoes by the stairs, always next to his own. Sleep-slow breathing in the early morning light. A commiserating glance across the table. Unshakeable. * August 19th, 2017: Draco “Love,” Pansy says flatly. Draco shrugs, shakes his head. “I know. You’re skeptical, I get it. What am I thinking, this whole adoption thing has scrambled my brains, I should know better—” She sighs. “The only thing I’m surprised by is how long it took you both to realize it.”

Part 67

August 23rd, 2017: Harry A single spark can grow into a wildfire if the earth around it is scattered with desiccated kindling, dead leavings of something that once thrived, shed in anticipation of new growth that hasn’t yet emerged. Flames fed by: heaving breaths catching friction smoldering words Harry burns. * August 23rd, 2017: Draco By virtue of his pale hair, pale skin, and pale eyes Draco had always been regarded as a frigid person. He internalized it—hardening his facets into sharp, frosty edges. What will be left of him when his glacial exterior melts, evaporated away by the bonfire of a man beside him?

Part 69

August 26th, 2017: Draco He can feel the sweat beading on his scalp and trailing back, dripping down his neck, his spine, stopping only when it hits Harry’s fingers and mixes with the slick wetness Harry is fucking into him. Harry’s tongue, no longer hot against his blazing skin, follows it down. He gasps. * August 26th, 2017: Harry They could shower. He could wet a flannel and wipe them down. He could grab his wand, cast a Scourgify. He curls himself around Draco instead, hoping for one delirious, pleasure-soaked moment that the sweat, saliva, and come drying on their skin will adhere them to one another for good.

Part 69

August 30th, 2017 “One more day,” Draco says into the sleepy quiet of Harry’s bedroom. Harry finishes Draco’s thought for him. “It’ll just be us again.” “You’re worried?” Harry asks, feeling the tension in Draco’s body creeping up, his limbs going stiff and his breaths shortening. “No,” Draco replies, but his tight voice indicates otherwise. Harry waits. “Maybe,” Draco adds, quietly. “You think after everything we’ll go right back to hating each other? That the only thing keeping us civil is the boys?” “No, idiot,” Draco says, pulling away to sit up, gazing without seeing at the opposite wall, his lower lip caught in his teeth. Harry leans up on an elbow and wraps his other hand around Draco’s bicep. Squeezes. “Tell me.” “This isn’t just civility,” Draco says in a familiar, frosty tone. “Not for me, anyways.” “Me either,” Harry protests, sitting up all the way to look Draco in his face. “Draco, I told you. I lo—” “You told me,” Draco interrupts. Realization dawns on Harry, cold and shocking. “You don’t feel the same way.” Draco scoffs, a disbelieving little sound. Harry pulls back. He thought he understood, he thought— “You don’t have to be a dick about it,” he bites. Draco whips his head around. “What? Harry, no— I…love you. Of course I do, you daft—” Harry falls back onto the pillows, his panicked heart thumping. “You’re worried it’s not enough.” It isn’t a question, and Draco doesn’t reply. “It’s enough for me. More than I ever thought I’d get.”

Start here 🌟Previous part here 🌟 Next part here

#the pleasure of a fleeting year #drarry #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #drarrymicrofic #drarry microfic #drarry fanfiction

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ekoilemartinwrite · 1 year

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Journal January 5, 2023

I just left after volunteering my time at the data center the first time. The day center at my church, I arrived at nine and left at about 150 in the afternoon. Barbara is correct, you could not make up the stories if you try. No one would believe that. I can already tell that some people there are absolute characters. I heard about someone and took her son at this moment son who, they both need a walker in order to move unless they've had alcohol in which case they can move freely and completely.

I wore my boots, I need different boots. I want to say I need to open toed boots, but I think what I need is zero trough boots, that will let my toes appropriately spread out. I've worked all day on my feet

Once, I know what being on my feet should feel that I hello, my lower back hurts.

I got woken up this morning earlier at Ornish, Sucre. I pray for about an hour that I feel like I got told to go back to bed. I chose in and out of sleep until around eight. I had not set my alarm, which I will do now on. Ashley is actually one woke me up phone call at 8 AM.

– And I seem to have come to a reasonable meeting of the minds regarding money. She's going to continue paying the rents, and that technically will be my income from which I will time. That I think will actually handle most of my monthly expenses not counting taxes. I still need to check to see what my guy has said about my savings.

In the past week Ash and I had been fighting about it a lot. She got hired, but I congratulated for a number four, then five minutes later I started talking about tithing. I do not handle it well. She is understandably upset, considering that she justifiably feels that I lied to her which was not consciously intentional, but practically, for all practical measures is what happened. She proposed the solution of just continuing to pay rent, and from that I will try.

For my first day in the day center, I started off by wiping down tables, and then I spent most the day in the kitchen just serving coffee serving whatever meal people asked for. We had some soup we had some toast with the, with the options of peanut butter, jelly, butter, we also had oatmeal, soup, baked potato, baked sweet potato, those last two were microwaved., Several different kinds of bread. I currently find it striking that I am more easily able to list off the food and items I dealt with rather than the people I dealt with. I know that it used to be true. I feel like I stored a significant chunk of my brain into memorizing the names of people and their faces.

Really was there today, I also saw Pastor Heather. I wish them both a happy new year. Barbara, saw, and Donnie were there. I also saw Garrett's, who is in charge of social services. Donny and I talked a little bit about poetry, and the next poetry meeting. Barbara is a gem. She may have the attitude of being the class clown, but she also has a knack and skill, of interacting with people. Right now, I feel like a wet blanket. I don't feel like I have the skill of interacting with a lot of different people, or bringing moods up.

I'm not certain that any particular tricks for tips are going to help me with this group. I don't think trying to be or charismatic will help. I mean, it might but only to a certain extent. It still something worth looking into. But I think maybe learning this group of people will be more helpful. Just this learning people's names, I know I recognize faces from people of the church, not being afraid to just stay in the kitchen. They mentioned how on Tuesdays there are Mormon missionaries who come to spend time it be helpful.. They would worth it would be worthwhile to be there to observe and learn that.

I am beginning to realize what I have done. I left my job. I have not been without one, really, since I left school. And even that, searching for a job was my job. And before school, school was my job. I have yet to actually figure out what my job is right now, beyond writing, and obeying God. The second is it's a job, it's a joy. At least I keep telling myself that, sometimes it is not fun. I'm just realizing how much of who I am as a person, and how much my job dictated my time.

#journal #unedited audio journal #reflection #journey #prayer #unedited #audio journal #unedited journal #writer #writers on tumblr #journaling #journalling

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daremartyevil · 2 years

Text

I'm only honest when it rains | M. MURDOCK

pairing: matt murdock x afab!reader

summary: day after day, it becomes clear to both of you that you grew more attached to each other than you want to admit. to the point where he’ll always need you as much as you’ll always need him. (based on the song ‘Neptune from Sleeping at Last’)

word count: 2,6K

warning: no use of y/n. use of pet names, a little more of angst but it has a happy and fluff ending! i promise it!! mention to hospital, drinking and injuries. matt being in a silly goofy mood of always. and there’s a scene in the rain, as cliche as it could be! so be prepared-

[part one], part two

Home sweet home.

“Thank you, Karen” you smile at the blondie while she helps you, leading you to your sofa after locking the door of your apartment, “It makes me feel like a fragile baby but I can deal with that”

“Well, for now, it’s technically what you’re except for the baby part” Karen comments, making fun of you, “Do you want to drink something?”

“Oh yes,” you try to adjust yourself at your sofa, getting to a position where you can look through your window, “There’s half of a bottle of bourbon on my fridge and some beers”

“And since when the doctors said that you’re allowed to drink something but water?” she snorts at you, looking at your figure lying in the living room, “Can you tell me, huh?”

“Since I’m feeling like shit and that’s since... The day one in that hospital” you point out, “So I believe that the med for this is a drink”

“And this is a yes to confiscate your alcohol until you get better, definitely” you listen to the sound of bottles clicking as Karen gathers them in a supermarket bag, “I know that you and Matt had a discussion but-”

“Who told you?” you ask, burying your head in one of your cushions. You are prepared to scream against it at any moment, it’d be better than crying, “I don’t remember telling you that”

“Besides that dark circles that are getting bigger and bigger?” the blondie ignores your muffled ‘ouch’, “Foggy told me that Matt seemed upset at the office and all the times that I visited you, you didn’t joke. And you’re the type of person who would joke even if we were in a funeral so it didn’t get me longer to me put two and two together”

Karen fills a glass of water and comes back to your side, nudging you to sit up and keep yourself hydrated properly. And even if you wanted to lie on your sofa and be there forever, you do what the blondie asks you quietly without hesitating. It’s like you want to be a pain in your friend’s ass.

“First of all, that’s not true and it upsets me that you think of me like that” you sip slowly the water, lifting one finger after another as you list, “Second: damn you, K”

“We don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to” Carefully, Karen rests a hand on your back, “And I don’t know what happened between you guys, but I know that it’s not doing good to either of you”

“It- It’s...” how can you even start? Not even you understand how you and Matt are where you’re now. Not without exposing too much, “Complicated...?”

Involuntary, a sob escapes from you and you drink more water as if it would hide it away.

“When isn’t it, am I right?” Karen shakes her head, following your stare back to the view outside your window and giving you your space, “Whatever it happened, I believe that you’ll work it out. You miss each other, it’ll only be a matter of time for you two to reconcile”

“Well, he-” before Karen can justify any of Matt’s behavior, her cell phone pops out a message that she quickly declines, “Work can wait”

“I can guarantee you that he doesn’t miss me” you mutter, playing with the empty glass in hands, “If he did, he’d had visited me after that first time back at the hospital”

“No, it can’t, K” you leave your glass aside and take her hand off your back, giving her a simple smile, “I’ll be okay, you can take this bag with all my goods and go. Go to work and greet those chicks for me”

“God, if someone listened to you, they would think something else. Do you know that?” the blondie rolls her eyes while attempting to hold back a laugh. Anyway, she does as you say and grabs the bag with your bourbon plus beers, “Are you sure that you’ll be okay?”

“Absolutely” you nod, lying once again on the sofa and pulling Karen out of it, “I’ll get rid of these dark circles of mine, don’t you worry”

“And take your meds and be hydrated” Karen orders you, raising a brow at you while following to the door.

“And take my whatever and be whatever” you mockingly repeat your friend's words, looking back through your window and motioning, “Of course”

“I’ll come back after work, okay?” you mumble out an unrecognizable ‘okay’, “Take care of yourself”

“You too”

Then, it comes the click of the door and Karen isn’t here anymore. And all you can do is cry.

(...)

It's been exactly seven days since Matt cut himself out of your life.

On day one, he almost destroyed his apartment. He never felt more frustrated than in the moments after you were hit by that car. Later on, Foggy called him and asked him if he wanted to go with him to visit you but he gave an excuse and let his friend go.

However, was only at night that during his patrol, he passed through the blocks of the hospital where you were. Matt tried his best to avoid seeing you, but it all led to nothing as at the end of that day, there was him: on the top of a building on the other side of the hospital, watching you from afar.

And the same thing he did on the following days.

Ignoring any of your presence, changing topics in a conversation when someone mentioned you, not allowing himself to buy you flowers... Until, in the day, where he’d watch you during the night, reassuring himself that you were safe.

Even on the other side of the street and with many floors as well as rooms between the both of you, Matt sensed you. In fact, he believes that even if you were in the middle of Times Square at the Ball Drop, he would find you.

A part of his always knew a way to find you. Despite himself.

There was that scent of yours, every day you were in that hospital, the man in the mask couldn’t stop asking himself how you managed to keep that same scent while hospitalized. How did you always smell like cinnamon and fresh newspapers in the morning? It wasn’t like you could make your burnt cinnamon toast and read your finest newspapers in a hospital bed.

But somehow, you found a way to keep your scent wherever you were.

And it didn’t matter how far he was from you, it’d always intoxicate him as the sound of your voice does.

“You should tell them” Matt almost jumps out of his skin at the sound of Foggy’s voice at the door of his office in Nelson & Murdock.

“No, don’t you that ‘puzzled-lost-puppy-face’ when you know too well about who and what I’m talking about” Foggy points accusingly at his friend and approaches his figure, ignoring the tap of the rain against their windows.

“Tell who what?” he questions in return, tilting his head to the low sound of a drizzle starting outside the law firm.

“You aren’t talking about-” Matthew doesn’t get his chance to question, since Foggy snaps his fingers and cuts him off.

“Yes and yes” the blondie smiles smugly, crossing his arms.

“How do you know the answer if you didn’t even let me finish?” Matt rubs above his unfocused eyes, adjusting his lenses.

“Because I know that since the first day you introduced them to me and Karen, you couldn’t stop to think about them” Right on the spot, Matt sighs, “Or am I wrong?”

“I’m saying that whatever it happened when you visited them, you need to get over it and keep moving forward.” before Matt could say something, Foggy raises a finger, “You can’t confine yourself in your office and apartment hoping for them to vanish from your life or whatever”

“Depends on what you mean by it” the chestnut attorney lifts a brow to Foggy, tilting his head again and focusing all of his attention on his friend.

“I can try” Matt mutters, what makes Foggy flick his temple.

“This is different” And it is, indeed.

“No you can’t, stop it now” Foggy furrows his brows, “In whatever guilty trip you’re in- And don’t you dare tell me otherwise because both of us knows how is a guilty Matt” the man with red lenses gulps, letting his friend say what he wants to say without being interrupted, “If you think that they got hurt because you introduced them to us and that case we’re trying to work out, it isn’t. They’re a reporter, Matt, don’t you know that maybe they would have been in this type of trouble even without knowing us”

But it doesn’t mean that Foggy is wrong.

And even if Matt can’t understand this, Foggy can. Better, he does.

“Matt,” Foggy calls his attention out, “It doesn’t matter, you lov-”

“Deserve something like what?” even having a clue about what Foggy is speaking about, Matt had to ask.

“Don’t” Matt whispers, quickly popping his tongue out to wet his lips. At the same second, embarrassment clouds his senses by how fast he went to interrupt the other. It only gives more reasons to the other attorney of law, “Don’t say it”

“Okay, then let me rephrased it: they love you,” he corrects himself but it doesn't makes a difference, not to Matt. He takes a deep breath as his friend’s words sink into his mind, “And I know you feel the same way about them, so don’t you think you deserve something like this? Because I do”

“To be happy, Matt”

Does he?

After everything he did? All those times he allowed those demons to slip from his surface? Committing mistake after mistake and tainting his own soul?

Matt tilts his head back to the windows, listening to the rain growing outside.

He always ends up hurting the ones he loves most. Why it would be different with you? Or even with Foggy or Karen?

Does he really deserve this kind of happiness?

Then, the sound of your laugh fills up his head, coming along with the memory of your intoxicating scent. Matt shut his eyes, letting them all in with the tap of every drop.

So, he listened to your voice. Low, in a whisper, close to his ears. Flushing him in the memory, “We are a team, D. Sometimes, even you will need my help”

God, he remembers the way your lips turned in a smile perfectly. Your smiles are always so big and full of joy, it’s impossible for him to not notice them.

“And what type of help are you talking about, sweetie?” he asked that night, raising his brows when he felt your hand squeeze his shoulder.

“To remember that you are not alone. I won’t ever let you think for a second that you’re alone”

Because he deserves to know that, you said it that same night.

“I need to tell them”

Abruptly, Matt stands up and runs off his office, taking only his coat and his cane before heading out of Nelson & Murdock.

Foggy does his best to reach his friend before his out, without any success. Even so, the man shouts, “It’s fucking raining, Matt!”

(...)

Watching the rain outside, you are up with the help of a crutch.

For you, Hell’s Kitchen being drenched in drop after drop of rain is a beautiful sight. Maybe, it’s because of the way that the sound of the city is reduced to the rain and only the way, nothing else. Not shouting, horning sounds at the street, or rushed steps against the sidewalk...

Only the rain washing the city.

Usually, when it is raining, you’re drinking hot cocoa side by side with someone and joking about God trying to wash all of the citizen’s sins away.

Now you are here. At your apartment, alone, without hot cocoa and him. And he... Well, he is somewhere else.

You sigh against the window, seeing how the cold air mists the glass in front of you and blocks you from the sight of the city. This makes you puff at yourself but, anyways, you raise your hand to clean the misted window.

However, as you clean it, you see a glimpse of a figure climbing down the fire escape of the building on the other side of yours.

Wait, you narrow your eyes against the soaked figure.

Is that Matt?

“What the fuck-” you get your weight on your crutch and you move to the corner of your living room as quick as possible, taking your umbrella, “Matt Murdock, you stupid bastard-”

You make a point of ignoring your neighbors' comments as you hurriedly descend the floors of your building with your crutch in one hand and an umbrella in the other. It would be very difficult to explain to them that you needed to save a stubborn idiot from catching a cold.

When you go outside, already opening the umbrella to shield you from the rain, you watch Matt run at you from the other side of the street. Some of the few cars at the street horns to him but he just raises a hand to them as if apologizing.

By that, you notice that besides the cane that he carries with him, he has something else in his other hand.

It’s a bouquet.

You snickers at it, you don’t even try to hide it, “What the hell are you doing running in the rain, Matt? And with a bouquet?”

A few of the daisies in it had been soaked by the rain or turned down by the little run of Matt. But, above all, they’re beautiful for you.

“I’m sorry” he ignores your questions, hiding from the rain under your umbrella, “For everything”

“Matt, you didn’t need to do all of this, you’ll get a cold.” you shake your head, adjusting your posture on the clutch, “Let me get you in my apartment and prep a hot cocoa to you, you’re shivering”

“Wait, I need to tell it now before I give up again” Matt licks his lips and you gulp, nervous, “You were right, I can’t leave you”

“Matt-” you whisper, feeling your eyes glossing and it isn’t because of the rain.

“Sweetheart,” he passes the cane to his hand that holds the almost destroyed bouquet, to hold your face like this. Stroking your cheek with his thumb, “I’m sorry. Because as much I’m afraid of my presence hurting you, I’m more afraid to not have you by my side”

“You don’t need to do this now, Matt” you sigh, leaning into the warmth from his hand.

“Yes, I need to” he smiles sadly, his unfocused gazed on your figure, “Because I love you and it wasn’t right to hurt you in the way that I did it”

Your heart misses a beat, taken aback by his words. Only for this damn muscle on your chest to get louder and louder, defying the rain tapping against your umbrella.

By sensing that, the smile on Matt’s face turns to a grin.

“It isn’t like this forgive you either” you mutter under your breath, your voice trembles.

“I know” he mutters back. And, with a hand still placed on your face, little by little he gets close to you.

“But that doesn't undo the fact that I love you too“

With that, Matt decisively cuts the distance between the two of you, placing his lips on yours in a passionate kiss. The daisies, your clutch, his cane, and your umbrella are forgotten in the middle, everything but the rain. He holds your throat gently, feeling the beat of your heart under his fingers as he takes your breath out of you. Between the kiss, you smile, holding back a giggle.

When you feel the rain touching your skin, you ignore it and drop the umbrella. Using that hand to hold Matt’s face and deepen the kiss.

Damn the rain, if you were to catch a cold, that's fine.

Everything was fine now: in the rain, with Matt, as it washes the both of you.

Taglist: @waspswidows @druigswitch @underoos-shield (if you want to be tag let me know! send me an ask and i’ll add you!!)

#matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #reader insert marvel #reader insert daredevil #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x you

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lonely-lost-soul · 3 years

Text

Under the Floorboards Pt. V

(Technoblade X Reader): Pt. I, Pt. II, Pt. III, Pt. IIII, Pt. V, Pt. VI

Alright so maybe you spoke too soon; the four of you were going to do great things, minus Tommy. Technoblade had finally agreed to let you join Tommy and him on an adventure into L’manberg. The plan was to crash their festival, and ultimately attempt to get Tommy’s discs back from Dream and Tubbo. You expected your first adventure into the country to be fun, if anything you’d get to steal some shit, what you didn’t expect was to be thrown in the middle of a public dispute.

Clearly, you underestimated what ‘getting the discs back’ actually entailed.

You and Technoblade were back to back swords drawn, surrounded by about thirty people in the ruin of what was once deemed a community house. Technoblade never would’ve agreed to let you come if he thought the confrontation with Dream was going to be this serious, he assumed they’d watch from afar. If things got to dicey Tommy and him would rush in and he’d have you stay behind to watch from afar. If only he could’ve predicted someone blowing up a random building would cause such turmoil.

Nothing could ever come up Technoblade.

“Yah know when you first invited me out to partake in a festival for some reason I didn’t expect to be attacked by like thirty people.” You chirped a hesitant smile on your face as Technoblade made a confused sound.

“You definitely should’ve expected it,” Technoblade grumbled, barely taking his eyes off of Tommy and Tubbo’s argument. You watched Techno’s back but you couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the boys conversation as well. As much as your heart broke for the two war-torn children, you had your alliance first and foremost with your boyfriend. You also couldn’t help but feel this conversation should be happening privately but here they were airing things out seemingly for the first time in front of everybody. Speaking of your boyfriend, your attention was drawn back to him as he caught Tommy’s attention, “be very careful what your decision is here Tommy.”

You narrowed your eyes and took a step in front of Technoblade, he made his classic ‘heh’ sound as you did so. You felt his hand grip your forearm and tighten trying to hold you back in case you wanted to do something stupid.

“Tommy, come home with us.” You held out your hand to him, the one Technoblade didn’t have a hold of obviously. “Phil’s waiting for us, we’ll get your discs back together as we planned.” The smile on your face could part the cloudiest of days and it broke Tommy’s heart, she had given him something that he hadn’t had since the war with Dream began.

A home.

“(Y/N),” That’s the first time he used your name, the first time you weren’t just Ms Blade. It broke your heart and you whimpered a little bit, “thank you for everything you’ve done for me. But I can’t go back with you and Technoblade. I don’t like what I’ve become, this isn’t me. I’m sorry. I hope one day we can be friends again. Tubbo give Dream my disc.” You leaned back into Technoblade in disbelief, Tommy had just betrayed Technoblade right before your very eyes. The man who gave Tommy the clothes on his back and a place to stay when no one else would. Weapons to help him fight against Dream when everyone else abandoned him, even though they all treated Technoblade as a weapon he still went out of his way to help Tommy. Your hands clenched into fists at your side as Dream let out a roaring laugh collecting the disc from Tubbo. He called the two children stupid right to their face and no matter how angry you were with them that was harsh, it’s like everyone in this country forgets that they are children. Children fuck up, it’s how they learn and it’s in their nature why does no one here understand that. You looked up at Techno your eyebrows furrowed and you pressed your lips tight but he didn’t take his eyes off Dream, he had different priorities in mind.

Protecting you from the Dreamon if anything went south.

Dream continued to mock and criticize the people of L’manberg before turning to you and Technoblade. The mask he wore may hide his facial expressions, but it couldn’t mask the unadulterated glee in his voice. Technoblade pulled you behind him as Dream stepped closer to the both of you, you felt a growl rumble in Technoblade’s chest,

“That’s close enough.”

“Down boy.” Dream mused, holding up his hands to show faux innocence. “I have no issues with the both of you. Tomorrow, with your help, Technoblade and woman.”

“(Y/N).”

“Don’t tell him your name.” Technoblade gaped at you and you only could huff in frustration,

“Better than just being called woman! Plus Tommy already said it.”

With an eye-roll Dream continued his speech, “With the help of Technoblade and (Y/N) L’manberg is going to be a crater. We’re blowing it sky-high.” Dream turned over to face Tubbo once again, “I had to pretend to be friends with you, to get the dumb disk back! I don't care about you. I'm not your friend. Okay? I cared about getting the disk back, and I got the disk back. I got it back. And that's-that's- that's the only thing that really matters. You can't even run your nation right. RANBOO IS A TRAITOR. ONE OF YOUR MOST TRUSTED FRIENDS.”

Your eyes widened as you spotted another child looking horrified, it was the half enderman from the butcher gang. You’re adopting him next.

“NO, IT IS TRUE. READ THIS BOOK. READ THIS BOOK. There's his memory book. He was meeting with Techno and Tommy and told them EVERYTHING. The proof’s all his own memories! He writes it down! You can't even run your own nation correctly Tubbo. Listen. Tubbo, you, I mean you, ... L'Manberg is weaker than it's ever been, and it's because of you! You have- you have destroyed everything. You have ruined your friendships. You have ruined L'Manberg's allies. You have just-you are a horrible president Tubbo.” Dream continued as Tubbo looked sick to his stomach, you felt just as nauseous.

“YEAH, YOU SUCK TUBBO!”

“TECHNOBLADE!”

“What?” He flinched at your tone, “he’s right!”

“They’re children,” You tried to argue but Dream cut you off by stepping in between you and Technoblade. Your pulse skyrocketed as you were separated, and you made sure an ender pearl was at the ready. Tommy looked at the both fo you nervously, but there was a spark of hope in his eyes when you defended Tubbo. Tommy turned over to Tubbo who honestly looked just as shocked that a partner of Technoblade’s would defend him, espeically considering he had tried to kill her a few days prior. Tommy had hope that he wasn’t completely dead to you.

“Techno. Got any withers?” You watched a sickening smile spread across Techno’s lips he picked at his nails.

“I got a few.”

“Good. Then I’ll see you all tomorrow when the L’manberg loses its last cannon life,” Dream announced before disappearing into the wind. The citizens turned to face you and Technoblade, he only had to utter a single word:

“Run,” Before both of you pearled away from the wreckage of the community house.

Technoblade scooped you up in his arms as he made his way through the Nether portal back to his base. He was much faster than you were and you didn’t fight him on wanting to make a quick getaway. You both were silent on the way back to his base, bottom line was you didn’t know how you felt about what just went down. On one hand, destruction was your middle name and you weren’t going to oppose blowing a government to smithereens with your boyfriend.

Nothing could be more romantic than that.

Yet at the same time, unlike Technoblade, you felt the guilt eat away at you. These were people’s homes, and lives you’d be destroying tomorrow. Most of the citizens you had no affiliation with, which you were grateful for, but those you did you almost couldn’t justify blowing the country up. Tommy was by all accounts dead to Technoblade and by that extent you as well. Still, you didn’t want to see him physically dead, it wasn’t his fault he got corrupted by the government and a homeless teletubby.

You were starting to sound like Technoblade now too.

You made a sound of distress and Techno glanced down at your form, his face flushed as you nuzzled your nose against his neck.

“You okay princess?”

“No…” You answered with a sigh, you reached out and twirled a strand of his pink hair through your fingers. “Tommy’s gone, we’re going to blow up a country tomorrow. I feel bad for the people we’re gonna leave homeless. So, no I’m not okay bubs.” The socially awkward man winced a little as he battled with what to say to you, he tends to forget you both aren’t the same person. For as much as both of you agree, you were still different from him, you had more empathy than he could ever wish to have.

“You don’t have to come.”

He watched a frown appear on your face as you pulled away from him. You clicked your tongue in distaste, a sure sign that you were about to pick a fight with the blood god. You were one opponent he could never seem to defeat. That did not come out the way he intended.

Time to backtrack before he got his ass handed to him.

“What I mean is, you have no affiliation with L’manberg. You have no prior issues you need to settle with them so technically you can stay home tomorrow, no one would blame you. You’d be safer away from the explosions, I’d feel better with you at home.”

“That way you’d only have to worry about Phil tomorrow right?”

“Well, that’s part of it,” He stated bluntly, never one to be dishonest. “He has only one life and he’s going to want to fight, he has a lot to avenge. The government drove his eldest son mad, enough that Phil had to kill him. He’s one of my oldest friends, I wanna look out for him and protect him.” You couldn’t help but sigh softly at his response, you brushed your thumb across his cheek fondly.

“You’re wrong.”

“Eh?”

“I do have something I want to fight for, I want to fight for what I believe is right. Let’s face it Techno the way everyone’s treating those children is sick. Dream manipulated Tommy and used Tubbo to get what he wanted from him. I know you did what you thought was right for Tommy but he’s a product of a war-torn country, they all are. Now, that doesn’t excuse his betrayal but… did he even know what the right thing to do was in this situation, does he even truly know what peace is? I want to fight to protect those kids. They deserve to know peace, true peace away from bloodshed and war. If I can I want to give them that.” You watched Technoblade’s jaw tighten, “I’m going with you tomorrow but I’m not going to kill the children.”

“I don’t think I can ever forgive Tommy.” He sighed adjusting his grip on you a sure sign he was nervous, “but I love you.” Techno kissed you once again, it was long and tender you watched as the apples of his cheeks turn red after you both pulled away. He took a breath, “You’re unstoppable and you’ve never stopped me before so I won’t do the same for you. Just stay safe. Please. You need to come home with me tomorrow I won’t settle for anything else.”

“I will. I promise.” You pressed a light kiss to his cheek, and he hummed gently in response. “I love you Technoblade, I’ll fight beside you. Till the end of the line.”

“Till the end of the line,” He repeated as you both approached the snow-covered house to convene with Philza Minecraft himself.

~~~

Hi guys! Officially feeling a bit better, enough to get a small part out before I work on the next chapter. I hope you like it, thanks so much for reading and your amazing feedback. Also, thanks so much for your kind words and well wishes! Also, also, If anyone ever makes fanart of this story (I doubt it would happen) please tag me and let me know. I love to make art myself and always wanna support other artists! Thanks Again!

#technoblade x reader #technoblade x you #technoblade #mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #fanfiction #fanfic #minecraft fanfiction #x reader #dreamsmp x reader #minecraft x reader #x you #Blood for the Blood God #rp #dream smp

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troquantary · 3 years

Text

Edward Cullen: That Boy Ain’t Right

So I was doing a reread of @therealvinelle 's collection of Twilight metas, as one does, and in "Edward, Denial, and a Human Girlfriend" she mentions that she doesn't believe Edward is sane. I thought, "ha, yeah, he's definitely not," and also, "but wait, what does that mean exactly, please say more about that." But since she's already inundated with asks, I've decided to use my own head-muscle and explore this idea. (TL;DR: I start out more or less organized, synthesize some points Vinelle has made across several posts (and have hopefully linked to them all where relevant but please tell me if not), touch a little on narcissism, then take a hard left into the negative effects of being a telepath.)

Just a couple things to note at the outset, though. Theses have been written already (probably) about Edward as an abuser. Edward being insane doesn't negate that at all; he's definitely an asshole and just...a disaster of a human being. (I find it more funny than anything, but YMMV.) I'm also going to try to avoid talking specifically about mental illness and how it relates (or doesn't relate) to abusive behavior -- that's territory I'm not really equipped to discuss, like at all. My starting point is "Edward has a deeply warped perception of reality," not "Edward has X disorder."

So: deeply warped perception of reality. The evidence? Goes behind a cut, because my one character trait is Verbose.

Vinelle provides a great example of it in the post linked above, which I'll just quote because she does words good: "[Edward] keeps acting like his romance with Bella is a romantic tragedy, and all the cast of Twilight are actors on a stage making it as sublime as possible." Edward's the one to pursue Bella, but he does so with the full belief, from the very beginning, that it will never last; Bella will "outgrow" him, go on her human way, and he can spend the rest of eternity brooding magnificently over his too-short romantic bliss. [Insert premature ejaculation joke.] Turning her is never an option, even though Alice, Noted Psychic, says that romancing Bella will either end with her dead (exsanguinated) or dead (vampire).

This framing, where he's a dark anti-hero in love with -- but never tainting! -- the pure maiden and eventually leaving her in a grand, tragic sacrifice to preserve her soul? It's fucking bonkers. Bella isn't a person to him in this scenario. As Vinelle points out, Bella's never really a person to him at all; he falls in love with his own mental construct, cherry-picking from what he observes of her behavior and her responses to his 20 (thousand) Questions to convince himself that she is the ideal woman.

Bella's not the only one who gets the projection/cardboard-cutout treatment. Edward sees everything and everyone through a highly particular, personalized lens. He filters his entire reality, which we all do to an extent, but the thing with Edward is that he starts with his conclusions and then only pays attention to the evidence that supports those conclusions. Often that evidence consists of what he admits in New Moon are only "surface" thoughts -- but recognizing that limitation doesn't keep him from taking those thoughts as representative of what people are. Edward then becomes absolutely convinced by his own "reasoning" and won't be swayed from what he has decided is Objectively True. It's obvious with Bella; it's also painfully obvious with Rosalie. (Vinelle explains this and brings up Edward's raging Madonna/Whore complex in the same post, so refer to that again -- she's right.)

He also catastrophizes. Everything. Bella's just vibing in her room, rereading Wuthering Heights for the 87th time? She's gonna be hit by a meteor, better sneak into her room while she sleeps. Bella's going to the beach with the filthy mundanes their human classmates? She's gonna fall in the ocean. Jasper's cannibal pals are stopping by for a visit, but know not to hunt in the area? DISASTER, DEFCON 1, ALSO FUCK YOU JASPER FOR EVEN EXISTING IN MY AND BELLA'S SPHERE YOU UNSPEAKABLE BURDEN. Edward must believe that Bella is vulnerable and in near-constant peril, to support the reality he has created in which he is the villain turned protector and maybe?? hero??? (!!!) for his beloved. So when the actual, James-shaped danger arrives, he goes berserk, snarling and flipping his shit and generally not helping the situation. His fantasy demands that Bella remain human, so instead of doing the very thing Alice, Noted Psychic, assures him will neutralize the threat (and not just a threat to Bella, either, but to Bella's family and any other human James might decide to include in the "game"), he vetoes it immediately, no discussion. Bella Must Not Turn, and he sticks to those guns despite James nearly reducing her to ground beef, despite leaving Bella catatonic with depression (but human! success!) in New Moon, despite Aro's order and his family's vote and, let's not forget, Bella's clearly and repeatedly stated desire to be a vampire. It's going to happen. But he doesn't accept it until Renesmee busts out of Bella like the Kool-Aid man and the poor girl's heart finally, unequivocally stops.

Sane people don't behave this way. I don't want to slap labels on Edward, but I can't help but note that he comes across as highly narcissistic. He's the only real person in his universe, the lone player among us NPCs. That probably has a lot to do with him being frozen in the mindset and maturity of a seventeen-year-old boy, but I think it's also just...him, on some fundamental level. His failure to connect with others and recognize them as full, independent beings with their own wants and priorities isn't like Bella's failure -- she's badly depressed. Edward is...something else, and I get the sense that his sanity has been steadily deteriorating over time. And a cursory google of narcissistic traits turns up some familiar-looking stuff. He's self-loathing, yes, but also grandiose; he hates himself for the monster he is (and hates most vampires besides Esme and Carlisle for their monstrosity, too) but still feels superior to humans, to the extent that he felt entitled to human blood and resented Carlisle for depriving him of his "proper" diet. He eventually returns to Carlisle, but he's far from content -- the beginning of Midnight Sun finds him in a state of ennui, bored and dismissive of (if not outright disgusted by) everyone around him, that has apparently persisted for years and years. He doesn't play the piano, he doesn't compose, he doesn't enjoy anything...at least until Bella comes along and then he becomes obsessed to a disturbing degree with her and his new, romantic tragedy spin on reality.

[Next-day edit: I’m not sure where else to fit this in, but the way Edward casually contemplates violence against people who have, at best, mildly annoyed him is...chilling. I have a hard time writing off his strategizing how to murder the entire Biology class as a result of bloodlust -- it’s so calculated, nothing like the blackout state of thirst Emmett describes when he encountered his own “singer,” and that is probably the default for when a vampire is extremely thirsty. But even ignoring the Biology class incident, Edward still does things like consider, with disturbing frequency, how he might grievously injure or kill Mike Newton, all because...Edward considers him his romantic rival (despite Bella barely giving the kid the time of day). He thinks about slapping Mike through a wall, which might be an amusing slapstick image, except as a vampire Edward’s actually capable of turning this boy’s skeleton to a fine powder. So it’s, y’know, kind of sick when you think about it.

But even worse than that, when Bella tells Edward about how she flirted with Jacob to get at that sweet, sweet vampire lore, Edward chuckles and then, after dropping Bella home, flippantly observes that now that the treaty’s broken, why not genocide? I’m not even kidding, it’s right there in Midnight Sun; he seriously thinks about the fact that he’d be technically justified now in wiping out the entire tribe because a teenager tried to impress a girl with a spooky story. That is fucked. Remember, Edward was there with Carlisle when the treaty was first established. He knows how remarkable it is that they even came to a truce in the first place, that it was only ever possible because Carlisle is...well, Carlisle, and that it marks a pretty significant moment in supernatural history. He doesn’t care; he doesn’t respect it, or he’d never think something like “Ha ha, if I went and killed them all, I wouldn’t even be wrong. I mean, I won’t do it, but I’m just saying, I wouldn’t be wrong.”

Again: not the thought process or behavior of a sane person. (Or a person that respects life in general -- sorry Carlisle, big L.)]

Finally, whether he's a narcissist or not, I think the fact that Edward has constant, unavoidable access to everyone's thoughts is a powerful contributing factor to his instability. He can tune out the mental noise to an extent, but he can't stop it -- so he comes to rely on it like another sense. This causes issues with disconnect and lack of empathy, of course, but there's another facet to this shit diamond: he's basically experiencing a ceaseless flow of intrusive thoughts. His narration in Midnight Sun suggests that he "hears" the words people think, can "see" what they visualize in their mind's eye, and can sense the emotional "tone" and intensity of their thoughts. Therefore, perceiving Jasper's thirst through his thoughts makes Edward more aware of his own, "doubling" the discomfort. This would be a lot to deal with even from just his immediate coven members, but Edward gets all of this pouring into his head like a firehose on a day-to-day basis because the Cullens live right alongside humans. I know Meyerpires have galaxy brains or whatever, but that's a ton to process.

Besides the compounding effect on his own thirst when he "feels" the thirst of others, Meyer never suggests that Edward has difficulty separating his own thoughts from other people's; even when he was newly turned, he recognized Carlisle's "voice" in his head as Carlisle's. That would create a whole different host of issues around identity, but it looks like Edward's escaped that particular torment. However, I can easily imagine that what he does experience is just shy of unbearable nonetheless, with an eroding effect on his sanity over decades. He can't sleep to escape it; he's on a dishwater diet and probably (like the rest of his family) experiencing a perpetual, low-grade physical discomfort due to his thirst never being fully satisfied; and he's around far more people than is the norm for vampires -- even discounting all the humans, his own coven is unusually large -- meaning more noise.

Honestly, it would be weirder if he were all there, considering.

And even though I feel like I lost a sense of structure around where I started ranting about telepathy, I've written like 1.5k words about Edward fucking Cullen and I think that's enough for one post.

#twilight #twilight renaissance #twilight meta #edward cullen #i stared too long and the twilight abyss gazed back #long post #major credit due to therealvinelle for having basically all the ideas already #theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin too since they agree and build off each other's metas a lot #idk how people who write meta can just crank these posts out i've been here for two hours #edited to add stuff i forgot to mention about edward's disproportionately violent fantasies

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 21 - ao3 -

When he woke, Lan Qiren expected to find everyone talking about what had happened.

He might have even preferred that, despite the cost it would undoubtedly do to his personal reputation; instead, he found that the entire incident had been largely covered up, with even Lan Yueheng uncertain as to what had caused Lan Qiren’s injury other than that it involved some sort of dispute with his brother. That a mangled version of the story had not spread was as sure a sign as anything that He Kexin, whatever her faults or reckless willingness to act on assumptions with little base in reality, had in fact explained what had really happened, and that his brother had decided that he wouldn’t permit her reputation to be tainted by her actions.

Anyone might have expected the honorable Qingheng-jun to have apologized to Lan Qiren at that point for his own reckless assumptions, but his brother had not. On the contrary, he had left orders for Lan Qiren to be punished for breaching the rules of hospitality in striking an honored guest, and for violating several other rules not publicly specified.

Lan Qiren could imagine which ones his brother had in mind.

“But I didn’t do anything wrong,” Lan Qiren said to his teachers, blankly staring down at the punishment order, written in his brother’s hand. He hadn’t even been given the courtesy of being told about it to his face, as anyone might have expected, nor allowed the opportunity to defend or justify himself; he had been summarily sentenced in a note. “I really didn’t.”

His music teacher and his swordsmanship teacher both looked uncomfortable and awkward, each one clearly aware of the breach of protocol taking place – and, given their position as sect elders and honored teachers, very likely the actual facts of what had occurred. They knew that the only thing he was being punished over was for having the misfortune of being selected as the tool for He Kexin’s scheme, and his brother’s order – vastly excessive for a breach of the sort listed as the reason, given the usual standard of punishments – was due only to his own embarrassment and chagrin, and maybe his jealousy that Lan Qiren had unwillingly gotten even a little of the attention he so greatly desired and could not have. And yet, despite that…

“He is your sect leader,” one of them, the latter, said, and if his voice was a little regretful, it was also cold and passionless. “He has issued punishment. Are you defying his order?”

Lan Qiren’s hands were like fists on his knees. “Where is my brother?” he asked. He didn’t think an appeal would be a good idea, even if he were technically entitled to it – it’d be futile, unless his brother abruptly realized how foolish he was being – but he would be fine with it if only the answer wasn’t…

“With Rogue Cultivator He. She has agreed to give him another chance.”

Lan Qiren bit his lip and looked down. He did not like He Kexin, and not only because she had so grossly transgressed against him in an obvious attempt to convince his brother not to like her any longer – an attempt that, given the extent of his brother’s love-madness, probably wouldn’t have worked even if Lan Qiren hadn’t been utterly repulsed by the idea of bedding his brother’s prospective bride – and the idea of her giving his brother another chance at this point, even after having done so much to try to make him go away…

Perhaps she liked men that fought over her, he thought bitterly. Or perhaps it was only that she appreciated how much of his love she had for him to treat his younger brother as nothing on her behalf - though if that was what she was thinking, she was sorely mistaken.

“Something will need to be done about my brother’s behavior,” he said, looking up at them desperately. “You must know that this is not sustainable, honored teachers.”

“That is not your concern,” his swordsmanship teacher said, while his music teacher merely looked sad and helpless, as if what was happening was a force of nature that could not be quelled or diverted, and not merely a single man’s inappropriate behavior. “Will you accept the punishment? Or do you intend to defy the sect leader’s order?”

Lan Qiren shook his head mutely, and went to the discipline hall.

Afterwards, Lan Yueheng scurried in after him, shoving a healing pill into Lan Qiren’s mouth and holding his mouth shut until he swallowed it. “You should go,” he said, glancing around anxiously. “You don’t want to be here any longer than you have to.”

“You assume I don’t have to,” Lan Qiren said, still shaking from the pain. He’d never gotten that many strikes all at once, not in his life; he could barely stand unaided, and leaned on Lan Yueheng gratefully. “I’m supposed to kneel and meditate on my actions for three days –”

“You can do that somewhere else!”

Lan Qiren shook his head.

But for once Lan Yueheng was right and he was wrong. On the first two days of his punishment, he saw his brother pass by the discipline hall in an excellent mood, his ‘second chance’ with He Kexin going better than he had hoped – according to the gossip Lan Qiren overheard, apparently she did like it when handsome men fought for her and believed in her, and moreover apparently one of her friends had intervened on his behalf – but on the third day, just as he was about to complete his penance for crimes he had not committed, his brother returned suddenly in a fury over some setback. In a bout of bad luck and bad timing, he saw Lan Qiren just as he was making his way out of the hall, and in a fit of temper he had extended his order from one set of strikes to two, even though such a retrospective revision of punishment was contrary to both the letter and spirit of the rules.

He was the sect leader, though. According to the rules Lan Yi had set down so many years ago, as sect leader, he was entitled to vary the rules if he felt the need to do so.

This time, when the punishment was done, Lan Qiren hauled himself out of there, using the wall and sheer willpower to force his shaking legs to carry him, and stiffly announced to the teacher supervising punishments that he planned to meditate in penance in the Cold Spring instead of the discipline hall.

It was technically against the stricter interpretations of discipline, since he’d been punished to kneel, not meditate, but the Cold Spring was known to have recuperative and pain-easing properties as well as acting as an aid to cultivation; his teachers, which had overseen his punishment for the second time with tightly pressed lips signifying disapproval that meant nothing if they were unwilling to take any action to stop it, did not dispute him, and with a nod his freedom was assured.

Lan Qiren had a brief moment of disquiet when he got there and realized that he would have to strip off his clothing in order to bathe – he’d only had enough time to wash himself since the incident with He Kexin, and a quick scrub in the cold air did not leave time to worry about who might try to find him while he lacked a protective layer of clothing – but with a deep breath he reminded himself that he, unlike his brother, would not allow his life to be governed by He Kexin’s whims. Anyway, it would be unhealthy to wade in with all his clothing on; the wet cloth would serve only to make him feel colder and get less benefit out of the water’s healing properties. Even if his golden core was strong enough to resist most of the negative effects of catching cold, there was no need to tempt fate.

He put his clothing somewhere he could easily see it, tucking his access token into the clothing in such a way that summoning the token would drag along the robe as well, and then unsteadily entered the water, wincing at the bracing chill as he sank down until he was neck-deep in the water, settling himself in the proper position to meditate. Or, well, to sit blankly and wait for there to be a little less pain: even putting aside the severity, it was also the first time he’d ever been subject to back-to-back punishments in such a reckless fashion. Lack of treatment after a punishment was fairly standard if the sentence also included kneeling – technically, Lan Yueheng shouldn’t have given him a pill to encourage healing, and Lan Qiren shouldn’t have accepted it, although doing so was not a major breach. Moreover, given that the teachers had ignored it rather than adding on any additional punishment, it might even be seen as having been subtly countenanced.

Lan Qiren rather wished he had one now.

Or Lan Yueheng, for that matter. Or even Cangse Sanren, far away in Yunmeng, or Lao Nie, or someone, anyone, who would be friendly and take his side, even –

“Lan Qiren?”

Lan Qiren blinked, surprised to note that the angle of the light had changed considerably; he must have fallen asleep or otherwise drifted off. Or perhaps he was still asleep, because why else would he be hearing Wen Ruohan’s slow drawling tone saying his name in the middle of the Cloud Recesses?

“Ah, little Lan,” the man himself said, gliding out of the mist that surrounded the Cold Spring like a wraith. “There you are.”

Lan Qiren stared at him mutely. “You’re – here.”

It didn’t feel real. How could Wen Ruohan be here?

“I am,” Wen Ruohan said, his lips curved in his usual arrogant expression, the one that said I don’t care what you think of me. “Or am I expected to await your invitation in the future?”

“No,” Lan Qiren said, because he felt even less in control of anything to do with his sect than he had been when he’d been its second young master, even though he was now the presumptive heir. His vision of Wen Ruohan blurred and briefly doubled; he blinked to clear it. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He hadn’t meant to say that. Even if it was true.

Wen Ruohan’s eyes briefly widened, and then he smirked, looking delighted by the admission. “So you missed me after all,” he said, his voice low and intimate; one might almost call it a purr. “Ah, my stubborn little brother…”

Lan Qiren briefly closed his eyes. Had his brother ever referred to him directly like that? He couldn’t remember if he had.

He wished that it had been some single moment in time, some rash act, that had driven his blood brother, born of the same father and mother, so far away from him. He even wished that it was something that he had done so that it could be something he might fix, might repair with apologies and penance, but he knew that it wasn’t.

When he opened his eyes again, he found that Wen Ruohan had come closer, prowling along the edge of the Cold Spring with his red eyes fixed on Lan Qiren. His pace, as always, was slow and steady – it felt inexorable, unstoppable, and Lan Qiren did nothing to stop him, watching blankly as he came forward, crouching down right beside the place where Lan Qiren was sitting beneath the water.

“Little Lan,” Wen Ruohan purred. “My little Lan…”

He reached out, his long-nailed fingers tracing down along Lan Qiren’s cheek, as light as snowflakes, and down to his chin, catching it in a strong grip and turning his face to look up at Wen Ruohan. His thumb brushed against Lan Qiren’s lips.

Lan Qiren swallowed. It had been, he thought, too long since he had felt the touch of someone who wished him well, or indeed anyone at all; he had missed it more than he had realized.

Wen Ruohan noticed, and his smirk widened.

“I heard a rumor that you had been caught in attempted adultery,” he remarked. “I didn’t believe it, of course, and no one else did, either – but I had to come see for myself.”

“I didn’t,” Lan Qiren croaked. His voice felt strangled and inexplicably hoarse, and he found himself absently calculating distances in the back of his mind: Wen Ruohan must have left the Nightless City for the Cloud Recesses the very moment he received the report from his spies on what had happened in order to be here now. “I really – didn’t.”

“I believe you,” Wen Ruohan said, sounding cool and amused. “It didn’t really seem like something that my little Lan would do. My little Lan, who missed me so…”

Lan Qiren tried to turn his head away, not wanting to see the smug satisfaction in Wen Ruohan’s voice and face and manner – Wen Ruohan hadn’t won, he thought stubbornly to himself. Lan Qiren hadn’t given up on his conviction that such torture was wrong or that Wen Ruohan was wrong in engaging in it. It was only that Lan Qiren was tired and in pain, and willing to accept comfort from just about anyone.

Wen Ruohan wouldn’t let him turn away, though, and overpowered his weak movement easily.

“Don’t fret,” he said coaxingly. “I missed you, too.”

That sounded nice.

“I must admit, I tried not to. I thought to myself that if you were so foolish as to turn away from me, the consequences should be on your own head, nothing to do with me. But despite my best efforts, you were never far from my thoughts…”

Wen Ruohan’s hand released Lan Qiren’s chin and drifted down to his throat, lightly pressing his nails against his skin as if examining how the color changed when he did. He moved closer, too close for Lan Qiren to see him clearly given the mist and the angle; his second hand fell upon Lan Qiren’s shoulder, while his first continued to drift down, skating along his collarbone, drifting over to his side –

His touch slid across one of the stray bruises left over from his punishment.

Lan Qiren flinched.

That was a bad idea, of course. The involuntary reflex moved his body too quickly, straining all his other cuts and bruises, and the spike of pain from that made him gasp and instinctively curl up. His vision briefly whited out, and he struggled to control his breathing, keeping it slow and shallow to let the pain pass over him.

After a moment that felt overly long, his vision cleared. When it did, he became aware that Wen Ruohan’s fingers were pressed to his brow in the place between his eyes, transferring warm qi to him in such a torrent that it almost hurt; Lan Qiren lifted up a hand to stop him.

Wen Ruohan was faster than him, though, and he pulled away his hand and caught Lan Qiren’s, pulling it up to examine the bruising that was already appearing on the back of his arm – stray marks, in the main part, since the majority were on his back, between his neck and thighs. “What happened?” he asked, voice sharp. “How did you get these wounds?”

Lan Qiren looked at him in bewilderment: was this not the same man he had seen twist human beings into shapes their bodies could not bear, burn them with fire and slice them into bits? Why would he care so much over a few bruises and cuts, the marks left behind by unyielding wood when it struck flesh, instruments of discipline used a thousand times over in every single sect?

“You know already,” he said, unable to keep the slight tone of plaintive accusation out of his voice. “You said you believed me…”

Wen Ruohan stared at him, expression strangely blank, and then in a single gesture he pulled Lan Qiren up to a standing position, waist-deep in the water and choking on the pain of it, back bent forward like a bow, the worst of the marks now visible to Wen Ruohan’s burning gaze.

“What is this?” he demanded.

It wasn’t really a question that needed answering, and he wasn’t really asking, not anymore, but Lan Qiren responded regardless: “Punishment.”

Wen Ruohan’s hand was tight on his wrist.

“For what?” he snarled, and he sounded furious. Lan Qiren didn’t know if he’d ever heard Wen Ruohan sound this angry - he didn’t know if anyone alive had heard him be this angry, and if they had whether they’d survived the experience. “It is impossible that you actually bedded your brother’s lover. So what possible reason could they have for punishing you?”

“He’s my sect leader,” Lan Qiren said groggily. His head was starting to hurt; he had exited the cold water too quickly. “Does he need a reason?”

The hand on his wrist tightened still further. Lan Qiren would probably have bruises there in the morning as well, equally undeserved - but he minded these far less.

At least Wen Ruohan was angry on his behalf.

“Qingheng-jun is daring indeed,” Wen Ruohan said, his voice as smooth as silk and as dark as a moonless night. “To think he can act with impunity to anyone he wishes, even going so far as to harm one with whom I share an oath –”

“…do you?”

Wen Ruohan stopped. “Share an oath with you?”

“No,” Lan Qiren said. His head lolled a little, and he found that somewhere along the line he had been drawn into Wen Ruohan’s arms, making it easy to rest his head on the other man’s shoulder. Wen Ruohan was overly warm, as always; his sect always preferred cultivation techniques involving yang energy and fire – it wasn’t a surprise, not really, but it was unexpected how pleasant it was. “Need a reason.” He shook his head a little. “You hurt people, too.”

“You are not just any person,” Wen Ruohan said. “You’re my little brother.”

“I’m his little brother, too.”

He felt Wen Ruohan’s hand, blazingly hot against his water-chilled body, come to rest on his hair.

“You were born with poor luck in brothers, little Lan,” he said, his breath warm against Lan Qiren’s ear. It was as if all the heat in the world was contained in his body, and Lan Qiren capable only of leeching off of it. “Not just him, but me as well; we each fail you in turn. I will not apologize for having bound you to me, for I do not regret it – but I will endeavor to make it up to you.”

Surrounded by all that warmth, Lan Qiren drifted off to sleep.

#mdzs #lan qiren #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

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