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ch3rry-wink · 4 months

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Even in Death

Pairing: curse!Yūta x f!reader

Summary: Yūta has returned from the grave just for you.

CW: +18, murder, yandere Yūta, slight gore, obsession, blood, stalking, smut, co-dependency?

Author's note: I've read a lot of Yūta and I wanted to write something too

If you had known the implications of killing your boyfriend that night, you might have stayed still as he criticized you for that letter you wrote months before you became a couple, confessing your love to someone else. But no, in a fit of rage, you decided to thrust that kitchen knife into his chest and then dispose of his body by burying it in an empty lot.

The police had come a couple of times asking questions; you lied and made sure to lie convincingly. Getting rid of them was easy.

On the other hand, getting rid of the entity that resembled your boyfriend would be a greater challenge. Three days after the incident, a figure began following you, and people seemed oblivious to its presence. A week later, the entity took shape and appeared before you – a more lifeless version of your boyfriend.

He stayed with you, coiling around your body, sometimes feeling him groping you. When he wasn't on top of you, he lurked in corners, staring at you intently. Nights became sleepless, hearing the sound of his nails on any surface, pulling your blankets, and if he was in a good mood, he would cuddle with you.

Mornings were a hassle too; he found it amusing to make you struggle to find your things, causing you to be late.

Nowhere and with no one were you safe. This was confirmed during a night out with friends when the entity whispered a command in your ear, threatening harm if someone didn't remove their hand from you.

Terrified, you left the place, locked yourself in a bathroom, and his head appeared under the cubicle door in an unnatural position.

"Leave me alone!" you screamed. "No, you'll always be mine," the entity slid under and stood in front of you. "You'll never be with anyone else; I'll kill anyone who gets close to you."

"Yūta, I'm sorry."

"Save those crocodile tears," he approached your neck and kissed you from the collarbones to your ear. "You didn't look very sad when you left me in that field that night."

"Is that what you want, a confession? I'll do it if it means you'll leave me alone."

"And how does that benefit me? I want you to be mine like in the old times." The thought disgusted you.

You broke free from his grip and ran to the subway. He followed, sat next to you, and began touching you everywhere. The announcement for your stop came, and you walked through dark streets. Some guys approached, and unsurprisingly, Yūta intervened, blood and guts at your feet – he had always been protective.

Back home, you rushed to the small altar your parents had set up in honor of Yūta. Seeking comfort and wisdom in prayers, but Yūta was guiding the situation, hands on your breasts, lips kissing your neck.

"Fine, we'll be together," he got excited, wanting to take everything right there. He was no longer bound to behave; it was just a hungry curse for you and resentment.

He lunged at you, you fell, and he held your hands over your head. Your eyes filled with tears. Despite the hatred, his love was greater, wanting you to desire him, enjoy him as when he was alive, not just a curse to annoy you.

So he was gentle, caressing your body adoring every part of it with small, slow kisses, gently removing your clothes.

You gasped when his fingers finally found their way to your panties and he moved them aside, made perfect circles over your clit and your hips lifted towards him as you felt his fingers enter, you missed this sensation, missed him - the version that was a sweet guy, not the jealous Yūta, and certainly not the cursed Yūta.

You ran your hands through his hair and pulled him in for a kiss, he followed your kiss and his fingers kept curling inside you at that sensitive spot that would bring you to the end, yet he stopped leaving you there halfway to orgasm.

"I want you to beg for me." He stood up, and you did the same; your body was tense, and you were angry.

"Please, Yūta," you used that little voice when you wanted to manipulate him into doing something; however, it didn't work, and you approached him, following the swirl button shape, and began unbuttoning one by one.

Curse Yūta was very thin, almost bony. You touched his collarbones and then descended to do the same with his ribs, while kissing his neck, your hands reached his pants, and you heard them fall.

He was holding back, playing hard to get, wanting to see how far you'd go to have him. Then, you knelt in front of him, ready to give him pleasure; he stopped you.

"Tell me what you want" he towered over you, looking down with his sad, lifeless eyes.

"I want you... Please don't leave, stay with me, I need you," you said between sobs.

"I wasn't planning on leaving, I'll always be with you," he reassured you. "I promised to always take care of you, but now I need to feel you," he said as you nodded in agreement."

You lay back on the floor, offered yourself to him by spreading your legs, removing your panties and running your fingers through your wet folds indicating you were ready just for him. He directed his cock towards your needy pussy, and began to move it over your folds teasing you and how needy you were. A growl came from his throat as he began to slide his length inch by inch inside you, he stood there not moving just waiting, feeling you throbbing around him. His thrusts were sudden and rough.

"Yūta!" you moaned as he pressed again and again on your g-spot. You squeezed his cock hard, he knew you were close by the way your pussy clenched and sucked on it.

His bony fingers moved to your clit and started rubbing it, your back arched and your pussy contracted on his cock. You felt his cock and balls spasming.

With a firm grip he held your hips and buried himself deeper into you, his fluids filling your pussy until they spilled out; It felt good, like in the old times when he was your boyfriend, because he still was; he was Yūta, a different version but the same Yūta.

Yūta collapsed next to you, you smiled at him your cheeks were flushed and on your eyelashes was still the wetness of some tears.

"I'm sorry" you put your hand on his chest and then moved to kiss him.

"It doesn't matter, we are together now and we will always be together..... You will always be mine."

"Always yours."

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu yuta #yuta okkotsu #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu smut #yandere yuta #jjk x reader #jjk smut #okkotsu yuuta #jjk yuuta #yuuta smut #yuuta x reader #yuuta x you #yuuta okkotsu

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aurguries · 1 year

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to be all-seeing

pairing: odin x reader author's note: odin and heimdall were both such standouts for me in the new game and i just had to write something involving them both and what better way to tie them together than write about heimdall's mother? i've taken some creative liberties here, and this is just my take on how stuff might have gone down. i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!! warnings: gaslighting, dubious consent, manipulation, emotional/psychological abuse, just all-fucker being an all around prick

Why here of all places?

With everything that’s happening — the looming threat of Ragnarök, that pesky Greek god and the boy by his side, the mask and its stubbornly hidden secrets, his vengeful ex, the impending doom of his death — perhaps he might have been thinking of simpler times.

Perhaps he might have been thinking of you.

And of course, that gift of yours.

It’s been some time since his last visit, since he last had either Huginn or Muninn keep an eye on you. Easier to pretend you never existed, though at times, a fool’s errand. You did, after all, spend several lifetimes with him. Then there’s your kid together, a walking reminder of your former union.

Sometimes, Odin wishes things could have been different, but here you are. And here he is.

You catch sight of him first.

Or maybe you saw him coming.

"What are you doing here?"

Fimbulwinter has taken its toll on Midgard, and it looks just as bleak and miserable as he remembers it to be from his last visit with Thor. With that, you — you make a most lovely sight in this dump.

Maybe it was cruel of him to bind you to a place such as this, among lesser people and where monsters lurked in every corner. Then again, he’s reminded that, just like his Frigg, you are here by your own fault.

It’s not that you mean nothing to him, you just … well, you just needed to be taught a lesson, that’s all.

Clearly, you still don’t see it that way.

"Come to gloat?" you inquire bitterly, standing in the doorway of the modest cottage you now regard as home.

If only you hadn’t been so goddamn stubborn, you could have been so very far away from … all this. Still living comfortably in the lodge he built, with servants to cater to your every whim, and the unforgiving winter nothing but a frigid tale to be told to you in passing gossip by members of his court. But you’ve always insisted upon your own way, upon your own … principles.

And so, you’ve brought this on yourself.

"You tell me," is all he says.

And yet, a challenge. You recognise it too. He looks at you, watches your gaze narrow. When you finally speak, your tone is as frosty as the snow that surrounds you both.

"I don’t do that anymore."

Odin merely shrugs. "Pity. Real gift you had."

This seems to irritate you further.

"What are you here for this time? Why now?" comes your impatient demand. And yet, he detects an undercurrent of hurt. It’s been … too long perhaps, since his last visit. You might have thought he’d forgotten about you.

A beat passes. He sees realisation dawn, anger fade. You start to smile, an almost gleeful edge to your voice as you guess, "Oh, this is about that prophecy, isn’t it? You don’t know what else to do. Or perhaps it is about that mask of yours. You always did spend so much time pouring over it."

"Maybe I’m here for you," he muses.

"You’re here for my gift," you correct sharply, displeasure returning. "I don’t need it to tell me that."

With that, you turn on your heel without another word.

Soon he’s trailing after you, shutting the door behind him, feeling the last gust of cold air disappear. A watchful eye takes to surveying the room, scanning for signs of anyone else other than you. The fact that he even has to look sours his mood just a little. Admittedly, he has been a little lax with your punishment lately.

"I see you’ve been decorating," he observes, taking a seat at a table you’ve set up in the centre of the room. Odin looks to you, tone light. "You got anything to drink?"

"Just tell me what you want this time."

You remain standing, ever watchful, ever cautious, seeming so very far away from him. Not impossible to reach though. He always has a way of getting to you, somehow. You’ve missed him, despite how vehemently you might deny it.

Still, you’ve changed, haven’t you? Even more so than when he last saw you. Midgard’s influence, no doubt. It never does you any good. You don’t seem to need him as much anymore. Perhaps you never did.

He’s not sure he likes the thought of that.

"No how have you been?”

An uncomfortable silence hangs in the air.

You stare at him wordlessly.

He relents with a sigh.

"I’m sorry, that’s not fair. Expecting you to welcome me back. You’re angry at me for not visiting, I get that."

Odin gazes at you intently.

"Unless … this isn’t about that at all, and you’re still angry about what happened." He shrugs. "Yeah sure, I may have … overreacted, but that doesn’t change the fact that I did what I thought was best. For you."

Something flickers in your expression.

The words come quietly.

"You always say that."

"And I mean it every time."

"I wish I could believe you."

"You can," he coaxes tenderly.

"Can I?"

He inches closer towards you, voice low and reassuring. "Don’t you know I’ll always be here for you? That I’ll always care for you? Didn’t I promise you that?”

"You promised me many things."

"And I intend on keeping those promises," he murmurs. "All you gotta do, is trust me."

He reaches out to you, but you immediately draw back, voice tense.

"Just — get on with whatever it is you’re here for this time."

He leans back, unfazed by this … contempt you make a show of. After all, you did this the last time too, and the other visits that came before. Even so, he’s still here, isn’t he?

"Alright, if that’s what you want."

A moment passes and you take a seat, unable to look at him.

It’s almost … satisfying. Knowing that even after all this time, his words still have the capacity to affect you. And why should they not?

You must still love him.

Didn’t he give you everything?

Who would you be without him? Where would you be? Who else would have brought you back to Asgard if not him? He raised you to be a queen. And just like the wife who came after you, you stupidly threw it all away. And for what?

You chose to be nothing.

At the end of it all, perhaps you do deserve to live in this wasteland. It’s the only way you’ll learn to behave. To learn your place. And once you do, it’ll be just like old times. You by his side, and your gift at his disposal. The All-Father and his little prophetess.

"You want to know why I’m here," he begins.

"I assume it’s about the prophecy."

"Yeah, something along the lines of that." He pauses, gives you a look. "You remember that … god, the one you told me was headed to Jötunheim."

"What about him?"

"You remember his son as well? There’s something the boy might be able to help me with."

You stiffen, expression hardening.

"I want nothing to do with this if it means harming a child."

"No one’s talking about killing the kid," he retorts with a snort, rolling his eyes. "You’re being dramatic."

"Am I?" you wonder coolly.

"Look, all I want is for him to help me with my mask. With enough time, he just might be able to piece it together."

"And so you want me to tell you if this will happen, if it will play out how you want it to."

"And here I thought you had abandoned your gift."

"I did. You’ve only had me do this many times, but this time I won’t. I mean it."

"Do you now?" he wonders, gaze flickering to yours.

"I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want you to hurt anyone."

"Why would I hurt anybody?" He chuckles. "I’m not always the bad guy, you know. I did save you now, didn’t I? All those years ago."

"Save?"

"Ran away, didn’t you? Then made to survive with your gift when things went to shit." His words are mocking, condescending. "The Aesir who was so very far away from home. At least that’s how I remember it. In the end, you practically begged me to take you back to Asgard. Prayed to me, pleaded with me."

"If only I was shown what entailed," you mutter. "What it showed me instead, it … misled me."

He sighs. "Still, I envy you for it."

Coldness sets in. "You’ve always envied what I think is cursed."

Odin leans back in his seat. "Nonsense. It’s a gift."

"Only when it’s useful to you."

"I suppose, but whatever benefits Asgard benefits our son, no?" he muses. "That boy of ours, he really is something. Everything we hoped he’d be. You’d want the best for him, wouldn’t you?"

The words hit you hard. Almost immediately, you shoot up from your seat, seething, "How dare you mention him? I haven’t seen him since he was a child. You took him from me."

"You abandoned him."

"I was forced to. By you," you grit out.

"And whose fault is that?" he wonders coldly.

All the colour has drained from your face, and just like that, it feels as though it was only yesterday you left home in such a state — ashen-faced, chin quivering, trying your hardest not to cry when you were asked if you’d be back. The confusion written all over his little face was probably enough to shatter your heart.

You’ve always loved that boy too much for your own good. It’s made you weak if anything. And it would have made him weak. It’s better this way, you and him apart. Besides, the man that your son is now, the man that Odin raised him to be — useful, reliable, loyal — you’d be pleased with how he’s turn out.

Odin moves to take your hands in his. When you don’t pull away, he starts in a honeyed voice, "We all make mistakes. What’s important is that you’re making up for yours. And for that, I’ll always be very proud."

He rises from his seat, a hand moving to cup your cheek. He watches you start to crack, because in your isolation, despite all the hate and anger you may feel for him, he is still all you have.

"It’s been hard on you, hasn’t it?" he murmurs sympathetically, thumb brushing across your cheek. "Being here all alone. Away from our son, from me. From family. I know I haven’t been dropping by as often as you’d like. And for that, I’m truly sorry. Truth is, I’ve been busy, but that’s no excuse, is it?"

His fingers move to grasp your chin, tilting it upwards so that you can meet his gaze. Something in your expression falters.

"I should’ve made time for you," he tells you softly. "Forgive me?"

He pulls away, gazes down at you intently.

A moment goes by.

Then finally, a crack.

"The boy," comes your reluctant response. "The boy will come to Asgard. I’ve seen it."

Eagerness grips him. There you are. There it is.

"And?"

"He’s come because of his father. He’s been … driven away."

He detects a hint of disgust in your voice, though he gets the sense that it isn’t for him, or Loki.

After all, it is your whispers that often end in suffering, don’t they?

He is bound to betray you.

That Dwarf will rebel against you.

When she leaves, you will have her wings.

Most of the time, all he has to do is tell you that it is for the good of Asgard, for the good of your son, and you carry on without hesitation.

His response now is as ravenous as it was then.

"The mask. Tell me about the mask."

Your brows crease. "The pieces … they come together. And the boy, he seems to be the key."

A thrill runs through him.

He takes and takes. Whatever you have to offer.

"And Ragnarök?"

You hesitate.

"You know I can’t see that far."

Irritation flares.

"Fimbulwinter is already here," he insists impatiently. "Ragnarök is close."

"I’ve told you everything I know," is all you say.

Odin seizes you by the arms then, fingers digging harshly into your skin. "This is really, really important. And I need you to think carefully. Ragnarök. Anything … you can tell me about that?"

He sighs at the lack of a response.

"Might be hard for me to come visit if I’m dead. You’d miss me, wouldn’t you?"

You glare up at him, voice taut.

"I can’t tell you what I don’t know."

Odin watches you closely.

"What about your son? Our son? You want to keep him safe, don’t you?"

Your gaze softens ever so slightly, but you don’t budge.

"I really don’t know."

A moment passes.

He loosens his hold on you, fingers moving to brush your hair back.

"Well …" he finally murmurs. "I had to ask."

Odin gazes at you fondly, tone now affectionate.

"Even so, I always knew you wouldn’t let me down." He chuckles. "My little prophetess. I nearly forgot how good of a team we were. How … talented you were."

His hand slides down to rest on your throat, and the lightness vanishes. He regards you with a dark gaze, eye tracing your skin.

Then, after a while, his words come quietly.

"I’ve always loved you. You know that, right?"

He steps closer, fingers curling around your neck.

"Even after all that treachery. Even after you turned your back on me."

"You didn’t give me a choice."

"No, you just chose to betray me."

"I didn’t want to."

"But you did. You should be dead, you know. Or worse."

"And yet, you still need me, don’t you?" you challenge, neck still in his grasp.

He could kill you. Should kill you. Is it true, that he still needs you? A son blessed with your gift of foresight was all he wanted at the beginning, really. But after bearing him that child, you’ve still somehow managed to prove yourself useful. How many times have your insight proved valuable? That you’ve dealt with a problem that hasn’t even begun?

But more importantly, you’ve grown on him, haven’t you?

"You had your son kill most, if not all the Giants," you continue accusingly. "And you strangled that Giantess because you didn’t like what she saw. Now they’re all gone. Because of you. And so, now — now you keep me alive despite the treason I’ve committed because I’m the only one left with the gift of prophecy you so desperately covet. That’s unless you prefer to seek out the Norns, but we both know how much you despise them."

Your hand slides up his arm, gripping his wrist.

"If you truly wish me dead, then do it. Murder me. Murder me like you murdered your dear friend Gróa."

He chuckles lightly.

"You’re overreacting. What makes you think I want you dead? You should be, but you’re still here, aren’t you?"

"So you want my gratitude?"

"I want to know if you still care," he murmurs, gaze intent. "Do you truly hate me? As much as you claim you do?"

He sees you hesitate.

Then.

"I should. After you sent me here, after you made me leave my son." A trembling pause. "But I don’t." You can barely even look at him. "I can’t." Your voice wavers. "No matter what you do."

"I’m a difficult man," he says, fingers releasing their grasp on your throat, grazing upwards to cup the side of your face. "I admit that."

"You’re a god."

"And is that so bad?" Odin wonders, thumb caressing your lips.

Worse, you whisper as he leans in to have you. You let him.

You always do.

•••

"You’ve been to see my mother," Heimdall will later say. Carefully, for it is a sensitive subject he is about to broach. Callously, so that the All-Father does not know that a part of him still cares.

It’s pathetic. Truly.

"I have," comes his father’s response.

Heimdall waits. And waits. But the All-Father never elaborates, never looks up from his book.

"I’m surprised she made it all the way to Fimbulwinter. She always did have a rather … weak disposition," he drawls, voice dripping with contempt.

But he doesn’t hate her. Not really. He remembers her delicate laugh, her smiling eyes. That gaze of pure adoration whenever she looked at him, as though he was who she loved most. No one ever looks at him that way anymore.

She would still. He knows this.

"You’d think she’d have perished by now," Heimdall muses with a dramatic sigh, fingers distractedly grazing across a scroll as he lingers near the table where his father’s seated at, nose still burrowed in his book.

"So you want her dead?" the All-Father suddenly asks, gaze flickering to him.

Heimdall hesitates, scoffs.

"She betrayed us. She betrayed you."

"Sure, sure," the All-Father murmurs. The book slams shut. His father’s full attention is now on him. Heimdall wished for it just seconds earlier, will long for it always, but now that he has it, it isn’t a very pleasant feeling. It never is.

"So, do you?"

His brow creases. "All-Father?"

"Want her dead."

Heimdall freezes.

His father is still staring at him, waiting. Waiting for an answer. He wants to know. He always does. Somewhere behind him, Huginn screeches.

Then, reluctantly, almost disgustedly, he forces himself to respond.

"No."

A moment passes.

The All-Father hums, reaches for his book, attention shifting away from him, and it’s almost as if the moment never happened.

Heimdall tries not to look too relieved.

"That’ll be all."

His arm flies up to his chest, back already instinctively bent in a bow.

"All-Father."

He’s met with only silence. Always only silence.

And when he leaves, it’s as if he was never there at all.

#odin x reader #odin #odin god of war #god of war x reader #god of war #odin god of war x reader #heimdall #heimdall god of war #gow #gow x reader #mywriting #useraurguries #odin gow x reader #odin gow #heimdall gow

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ryuichirou · 5 months

Text

Replies!

Today’s replies are mostly about our previous posts…

Anonymous asked:

Ryu??? Your last TreyRiddle fanart????? I've been starved of content of that ship and you deliver such delicious food??? Thank you so much!!! I bet Riddle is dying to bury his head between Trey's tiddies (who wouldn't??) Wonderful work!! Looking forward to see more of them in your style in the future ❤️❤️❤️

Anonymous asked:

Riddle has been getting a lot of extra attention as of late not that I'm complaining boy needs some love~

HEHEHE I’ve told you, you never know when the mood for certain ships is going to hit us~ We’ve been thinking about these two (…and about Trey and Riddle too! *very clever tiddies joke*) a lot this past week.

I’ve already mentioned it, but we’re rewatching the main story, slowly but surely. And it’s a great opportunity to get inspired to draw the boys that we haven’t touched in a while. And Riddle deserves all the love!!

I’m very happy you’re happy to see them, and also happy to deliver <3

Anonymous asked:

Floyd jelly Trey and chenya are pleasuring his man

To be honest, I don’t know if Floyd would be jelly. It’s one of many things in Floyd like that which depend on his mood. Maybe he’d feel like something of his is getting stolen, but maybe he’ll just take it as a reason to tease Riddle more + an excuse to cling to him and harass him~

Anonymous asked:

I saw your Lilidia artwork and now all I can think of is how good Lilia would look in a thong.

Please don’t let Lilia find out about it, he’ll genuinely consider wearing it… it’s not cutesy enough for him probably, but his flat-ass butt deserves it lol

masked-cat asked:

Do you ship Azul/idia and Lilia/idia separately or does Azul run a rental service? Lol

If only… If only Azul knew how popular Idia’s going to be… IF ONLY!!! Missed business opportunity!!1 lol

In all honesty it depends; sometimes they coexist, because none of them actually date each other yet, so it’s just a mix of complicated feelings between all of them. Sometimes they coexist because Azul, while being extremely jealous, knows better than to challenge Lilia. Sometimes they don’t coexist lol

Oh, I actually have a reply on this topic!

Anonymous asked:

in Rookvil marriage, Epel probably only gets to be flower boy because Rook is decided to be Vil's right man

Oh Epel is going to be so pissed lol Sorry, Epel, we can’t trust you with anything other than throwing flowers.

Anonymous asked:

Vil treats Jack and Ortho better than Epel XD

Of course he does, Jack and Ortho are good boys ❤️

I really love how in Vil’s mind the first years are a young potato #1, a young potato #2, a tiny potato, aw these two good boys, and a fucking CUCUMBER.

Anonymous asked:

So Rook is gonna be involved in the Tweels and Azul's life now that Vil is part of Shroud and how Idia is part of them?

(this is related to this reply)

Now that’s a sitcom I would absolutely watch lol But I’m afraid everyone would just be freaked out by Rook. No one knows why he’s always here, but he just is, and even if he isn’t, you know he’s lurking around. Vil is used to it, Ortho doesn’t mind it, Idia is terrified but that’s nothing new, but the Tweels and Azul would probably be very uncomfortable lol

Anonymous asked:

If Jamil and Ruggie knows about Azul's jealously, they will likely mess with him by being boyfriends together in front of Azul making him more irritated.

(this is related to this reply)

Oh they don’t care about Azul that much (OHHHHH--)

But it would definitely be funny and also could be a nice punishment if Azul becomes too clingy lol The problem with Azul is that he won’t just tolerate it peacefully, so it’s a dangerous game to play with him…

Anonymous asked:

Rook must love that he gets to see both his stalkees at the same time whenever Neige is on the hunt for more Vil pics and stuff

(this is related to this reply)

Yeah, this is always Rook’s happiest time of the day… The whole situation is quite amusing, but the fact that it’s Roi du Neige who stalks Vil… Honestly it would probably overwhelm Rook, but in a good way (so bad for Vil lol).

#replies

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donnerpartyofone · 5 months

Note

your posts about self esteem were really interesting. I hope you don't mind if I ask, but do you struggle with empathy? I've got friends in psychology who say self compassion is correlated to compassion for others, so often low empathy = poor self image. Social skills are often hampered by conditions like autism, and compassion is social.

Thank you for this provocative question, anon! I like that you say those posts were "interesting" instead of like, sad or delusional or something. I had to start blocking people who were compelled to tell me what to think or how to feel about myself, or who thought they were helping by denying the nature of what I was reporting. A few people recently had a more thoughtful or inquisitive reaction and I found that really refreshing.

Apologies in advance for this long dissertation on ME, but I'm glad you asked this specific question because it relates to something that came up recently that I think is important to talk about. More below the break so I don't ruin everyone's dash.

First of all I think I do not struggle with empathy; if anything I seem to have a hyperactive sensitivity to other people's moods and dispositions. One of the reasons parties are hard for me is that it takes a lot of energy to be immersed in other people's, uh, "vibes" or "auras"--please don't take anything mystical from my word choice, it's just hard to describe otherwise. I start syncing with other people to make myself less weird and off-putting (who knows how much I'm succeeding!), and then I need a lot of solitude to get back to my baseline. I'm very concerned with how other people feel, which is why I've been so good in hospitality-related jobs. But I'm sure this is related to the fact that I have major boundary issues, I get so hung up on how other people (seem to) feel that it can make it hard for me to assert myself until someone has pushed me way over the edge.

But I guess there's a limit re: the "reading social cues" bit. I *think* I read the room pretty well most of the time (I must! For my survival!), but I have a history of taking people at their word too much and not noticing that someone has bad intentions until it's too late. Maybe there's a certain amount of literalism going on. Like a really simple example is, I have a hard time with the concept of being "fashionably late"; if a party starts at 8, I will arrive anxiously right at 8, and there's a good chance that I will get there at like 7:57 and lurk on your front steps until the clock turns 8 BECAUSE YOU SAID 8, YOU MUST HAVE MEANT 8. I have finally learned that nobody really likes this unless they're my best friend or something, but I can't tell myself "Just relax and get there when you get there," that's too confusing, I have to say "We will now arrive at 8:20 because this is the secret code of party start times." That's a benign sort of dysfunction, but another version of that is, my boyfriend says he loves me and he doesn't want to break up. Actually he cheats on me all the time and screams at me and scares me, but because he like *technically* loves me and doesn't want to break up because that's what he literally said, my stupid brain thinks that's the rule and the other manifestations of his feelings must be anomalous, and then I'm in a really bad relationship for a long time because I just don't see the subtext until I'm really being beaten over the head with it. There have been a lot of times where I acted like I was legally obligated to come to an understanding of what someone else thinks and feels, when it would have been more rational to say, "This person is being an asshole, it doesn't matter why, I'm ditching."

I *think* this is related to your question about empathy, sorry if I'm being crazy.

So now for your question about self-compassion: I'm grateful for your prompt because I just had an argument about this with someone I love, and I don't think I did a good job of explaining it. I've also fielded some other feedback around these parts that was suggestive of the same idea, which is like: If I say that Behavior X is a crime when I do it, it must mean that Behavior X is an equally punishable crime when someone else does it, so therefore it is rude and inhumane of me to be mad at myself. This argument is missing a consideration of both context, and what exactly criminalizes Behavior X. The first note to make is that Behavior X is usually something that is NOT destructive when it happens just once in a while, innocently--but It becomes a big problem when it happens all the fucking time, like an infestation. If I "innocently" fumble something 50 times a day, that has a much more destructive effect than you making the same mistake just-sometimes. But let's say you DO make the same mistake a lot, so you still feel accused by my personal self-loathing. Now we get to the more important question of what or who is affected by the behavior. I feel sorry for people whose quirks and compulsions and such make their lives hard, obviously I relate! However, if those people came to my house and started doing their quirks and compulsions TO ME, then that's a different thing entirely.

Let's do some examples: If I complain about my weight, that's not the same as saying all fat people suck. What I'm really complaining about is the impact of weight on my own life, the negative effect on my social currency, my inability to find comfortable and attractive clothes, etc. I'm complaining about having to fight with doctors who think BMI gives them a free pass not to treat people, and also about genuine health problems I might struggle with. So my feeling about my own weight really has nothing to do with my feelings about other people's weight, I'm really reacting to my own personal discomfort, which is related to a whole complex of things, but none of those things is truly equivalent to complaining about fat people in general. Similarly, when I complain here about being stupid, I'm not assigning a moral quality to human stupidity, I'm really complaining about the effect of my personal stupidity on my own life. I do believe that there must be something cognitive or neurological going on with me so maybe I can't totally help what I'm like, but I find it impossible not to react to how my own stupidity makes it extremely hard to get through my day. It makes it scary to wake up in the morning. There are so many normal things that I either have to do over and over and over again, or that someone else actually has to do FOR me, which is humiliating and makes me feel hopeless (even though I'm glad for the help because what would I do without it?). Sometimes my life feels like fucking Groundhog Day, it feels like I'm achieving a fraction of what a normal person does in a lifetime, because everything takes me so many tries or is impossible to ever get past. I feel sorry for other people who go through the same stuff, but to me, that's totally separate from how I feel about myself. I hate myself NOT because I am a certain kind of person or because I did something that is objectively a sin, but because I, personally, am the reason I'm suffering and failing. This is not at all abstract or generalizing, it's something I'm forced to deal with, materially, every day. It's just too much to ask, for me to pity myself every single time I fuck myself over yet again. What can I say, I'm not a saint!

So I hope that sort of addresses your question! One of the reasons I get so upset when someone tries to make excuses for my behavior, or suggests that I am just exaggerating because I'm down on myself, is that if I can't have honesty about what goes on with me, then I can't ever get clarity about WHY this stuff is going on. If I agree to the premise that the 25 bad, destructive things I did today were "just because" I was distracted, or flustered, or overworked, or it was an innocent mistake, or it was someone else's fault, or it was a random coincidence, or an act of god, or I just need to learn the right way, or I just need to try harder, or I just have to have a better attitude, et al ad nauseum--that is, if I accept excuses instead of acknowledging a persistent pattern, then I might not ever get to the point of having a useful, explanatory diagnosis like ADHD or autism or...whatever is specifically going on with me. And I mean whatever happens, I WILL always try harder to improve myself, even if sometimes that feels like not learning from history. But it's becoming kind of obvious that a lot of the arguments I have with people could probably be cut off at the pass if I had a note from a doctor that said SEE? I'M REALLY JUST LIKE-THIS. I don't know what I'm going to do about that, with the Adderall shortage and what I'm told is the difficulty of getting an adult autism diagnosis. And like I'd hate to test for autism (or whatever) and have it come back ambiguous, it might make me feel like I'm "just fucking stupid" and I don't have a real problem, and it could also be problematic for these conversations I keep having with people who think I'm basically imagining the whole thing and just being "hard on myself". But I don't know, I think diagnosis may become a bigger focus for me in 2024.

Anyway. Thanks for reading this monstrosity if you did, and thanks for being thoughtful about my depression posting. It's refreshing.

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donationwayne · 1 month

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Tease Tidbit Tuesday!!

I was tagged by @daffi-990!!!

I'm gonna tease chapter two of my fic Feelin' Good (Could Be Better) which I've i finally posted on AO3. You can read chapter one here: LINK

Growing up and even now, there was one thing that always confused Buck about Margaret Buckley, her ever shifting moods only when it came to him. One moment she was sugar sweet, and the next she was vicious and violent. At times, Buck wondered if his mother really even saw him. She would run through a myriad of emotions in mere moments—grief, anger, and sadness—followed by violence, often in no particular order. Buck sometimes thought there might be some unknowable creature lurking somewhere beneath his skin. He spent hours in the mirror searching for it, trying to peel it back and catch whatever it was that she saw—what could unearth such abhorrent disgust. Maybe that's why it never quite felt like his skin really fit him. He never really got the hang of her ever-changing moods. Sometimes he was Evan, but sometimes he’s something else nameless. And then there's the thing that he's just too out of depth to locate. He'd never discovered the source of her disgust that made him feel so small and pathetic. Buck always knows when his mother isn’t seeing him, because he’s become familiar with the specific, distant quality of her expression when it happens. It was such a particular faraway gleam in her eyes that it was damn near impossible to snap her out of it. Her turbulent moods always came out of nowhere; they swept in fast on a riptide.

Its already really late so I feel like most people have already done this but if anyone else who hasn't been tagged wants to feel free to tag me.

I really need to make a list of my mutuals who are also writers lol

#i am in my margaret buckley hating hours with this one #i just hate his parents so i made the executive decision to make them worse #bc i hate their dumb ass redemption arc #also im sorry in advance #angsty!buck #911 abc #911 #aubs rambles #buddie fanfic #buddie #evan buckley #fanfic #aubs writes fanfic #911 wip #buddie wip

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jimothysomebody · 2 days

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I am halfway, give or take, through this stupid THC detox. Jaysus what a saga of shenanigans this fuckery has been. My brain chemistry is way too delicate for this shit. Props to people who can handle it cuz it's not for me.

I liked how I used before... occasional vaping here and there, idk if it was just amping up my use of the cheap delta 8 stuff, or sometimes being able to vape the proper real deal cannabis carts fresh from the dispensary (medical and recreational is legal here in Ohio)... or just my overall inconsistent use of either/both, but this has been so taxing on me.

In the worst of my highly anxious (read paranoid or even fkn cannabis withdrawal induced psychosis) episodes feared everything from brain cancer to POTS to stroke to aneurysm to diabetes to hypoglycemia to vitamin toxicity to hypoxia to blood pressure issues... but ultimately, so far, everything... *EVERYTHING* has fit the timeline and symptoms of withdrawal and detoxing. Sleep disturbances, changes to mood & anxiety, changes to appetite, headaches, stomach issues, chills & sweating, short lived episodes of lightheadedness & confusion/loss of focus out of nowhere have been the scariest for me... to top it off, I think being anorexic from February 'til April exacerbated it, too...

The dizzy/woozy spells began late March, and have been a regular (but not daily) occurrence since. Some days I've had no symptoms for long stretches of time or when I did they were very minor, some days I've had none at all. Prior to quitting cold turkey on the 12th symptoms seem to have correlated to my pattern of vaping. I'd vape, feel better for a day or so, and then go right back to being miserable.

Eventually I saw the pattern and decided to test the theory that, just maybe, my own sporadic and inconsistent habits were keeping me in a near constant state of withdrawal. For the most part I was a light weekend user in the evenings, but... I'd vape with my bf when he came over with the good stuff, or when we hung out with friends who also had better stuff than I do. I also just did more some days than others, weekdays & weekends both... but the days I had the good stuff I'd feel better... until I didn't.

I *almost* wish I was a daily or heavier user... just to not feel this way anymore... it's not a constant horrible feeling but when I feel it it's not great and it's kinda scary. I like getting a little bit high, relaxed or silly, I also love what it can do for my anxiety and mood, it's also been a great help for occasional aches and pains... and it can be very nice to do socially, but I don't really feel compelled to get high that regularly or that much, and don't really need or even want to, *especially* if I know that lurking around the corner is this absolute nightmare of withdrawal that I've been dealing with since like March 18th if I don't keep up with that kind of use.

Today was day 10... 10 days without any thc from anything. I still expect withdrawal symptoms for another week or so, but if the last 10 days symptoms lining up with the detox timeline of symtpoms and when they most commonly start to occur have been any indicator, it absolutely *has* been withdrawal I've been struggling with, and I can't fuckin' wait until I'm through this. God what a nightmare. I've had withdrawal from caffeine, from antidepressants like Pristiq & Effexor, from sugar (which nearly put me in a psych ward, 2 of the most depressed and anxious weeks of my life, jaysus never again), but this... this fucking experience is in a league of it's own, it's single handedly been the worst... and I'm so glad to be (or at least, I'm convinced) half way through this.

#Jimothy does a detox #Jimothy does a post acute withdrawal syndrome #an entry

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solmints-messyocdiary · 1 year

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I just chose Iris Patron and Odile since those are the ones I’m most familiar with!

👁️ - Have they ever been caught in the act/seen killing? Did they kill the witness(es), or do they keep your OC’s secret? Odile and Patron

🎃 - What do you personally believe is most frightening about your OC? Are they scary in-universe or in a more meta way? Odile and Iris

💀 - If they were to be killed by a final girl/boy/person, what would be a fitting end for them, symbolically? Iris and Patron

Jas! Thank you for the interest! And that's completely fine. I haven't shared much of the others~

Sorry for the wait. Here they are!

👁️ - Have they ever been caught in the act/seen killing? Did they kill the witness(es), or do they keep your OC’s secret?

Odile has on multiple occasions. She has been unlucky enough to have to face 2 or even 3 people at the same time. Depending if the person managed to fully look at her and of how terrified she is of being followed back to her shelter, she might chase after the witness. However, it tends to be too risky so it's not something she does often unless she feels the witness has given her the vibe they'll expose her.

The Patron is a very careful man. He always tries to be 5 steps further than everyone around him. Many call it paranoia, he calls it being attentive. He is but a shadow the moment someone enters the room and sees the carnage. For the unlucky one who saw him, he'll spare them as long as they keep their mouth shut. If they speak... well... the Patron is a very understanding man, but they broke a promise and therefore they must die. Unlike his witnesses, he does keep his.

☆

🎃 - What do you personally believe is most frightening about your OC? Are they scary in-universe or in a more meta way?

Odile is definitely scary in a meta way. She has become a sort of folk legend where she lives at.

The she-ghoul that desecrates tombs of loved ones.

The bird-headed boogeyman that lurks in the graveyards to scare kids and teens from staying late at night.

The beautiful and mysterious Samodiva that can be seen floating around in the forest, consuming the male gravekeepers who ventured too deep into the forest.

The unlucky feral child that burned the church down and stole the priest away.

That is all but a fantasy, of course.

Odile is, in reality, just a very fearful and lonely girl who has been given the role of a monster.

Iris is hands down scary in the literal sense. Her kills are brutal and sadistic. Truly vile to see and witness. She actively enjoys tormenting her victims and chasing after them. Depending on her mood, she'll kill the witness immediately, not giving them a chance to scream...

Or... if she's feeling particularly "playful" she'll give them a few days of safety before killing them in their home. It's just an extended cat and mouse chase for her.

Anywhere she goes, terror and gore follows and paints the city she lurks in.

☆

💀 - If they were to be killed by a final girl/boy/person, what would be a fitting end for them, symbolically?

I am still not particularly sure how I want their end to be like yet!

But... I've brainstormed a little about it.

Iris would most probably die at the hands of the person she becomes obessesed with. Or simply, live by the sword, die by the sword kinda deal.

The Patron would either be a poetic death, dying by the one whom he learned to trust and love or perhaps... do a 180° and give him a boring death. The opposite of his eccentric self. Lacking in art.

#ask #devil-doll13 #oc: the patron #slasher: the patron #slasher: odile #oc: odile #slasher: iris #oc: iris

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sillyrabbit81 · 1 year

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Hey there Bunny, how ya doin? Been a while since I stopped by to say Hi and check up on a fellow Aussie. Ive been lurking around but haven't seen you on my dash for a while. RUOK?? Always around to lend an ear, if you need one to hear. Big squishy hugs 💜💜💜

Hey!

Thank you for reaching out. Thats really kind of you.

I haven't been around as much lately. But I am doing okay. I have had a few people asking me similar things lately so, I might just let it all out here and tell people whats going on.

IRL things have been a lot for me lately and I just haven't had the time/headspace to be as active. Plus, if I have an hour or two to sit at my computer, I'm usually using that time to write (or stare at the doc and force out 50 words LOL).

The IRL stuff is mostly about my kids, but I also have had issues lately with my own mood regulation and other issues. Turns out I have Premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD), which I tell people is basically like PMS but on Liver King levels of steroids. I think I've had symptoms of this for a couple of years, but its recently gotten much worse and I have seen an endocrinologist recently and started a treatment plan that will hopefully help, but it will take a couple of months before I will see any results.

I don't generally talk publicly about my family. Mainly because I feel like my blog and writing is my safe haven, a place for just me. But there has been a lot going on lately so maybe it will make me feel better to talk about it real quick. A lot of people who I talk to in chat/DMs already know most of this anyway.

Both my kids and my husband are on the Autism Spectrum.

My son is 13 and just started high school, so that has been a tough transition for him. He has been involved in a couple of incidents that has resulted in his suspension. Supporting him through that has been tricky and dealing with the school and trying to get the right supports in place for him has also been a slog.

My daughter is 8 and she requires a lot of support at school. She really struggles at school and so there is a lot of time spent ensuring she gets the supports she needs. On top of that, about 6 months ago she had a tonic-clonic seizure that was quite serious and lasted for over 10 minutes. After some testing was then diagnosed with epilepsy, probably as a result from a brain injury she suffered during her birth (she had a lack of blood flow and needed an emergency c-section). So its been trial and error with meds, (she also has absent seizures which we noticed a few times) but after a while we thought things were okay. A couple of weeks ago, she had another serious seizure and we were back in hospital.

So yeah, while I'm okay and my family are mostly okay, there has been a lot going on for me IRL over the past few months that has obviously taken precedence. But, I'm still around when I can be. I still want to be around and still love to write and make gifs and stuff, but its just been a matter of priorities and a significantly limited free time compared to what I previously had.

I hope you are doing well! I hope you're going to have a nice summer break (if we actually get a summer... I know in Sydney its bloody cold so far!) And thanks again for reaching out. That was really sweet of you.

❤️ Rabbit

#mis-lil-red #ask sillyrabbit81

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writteninscarlet · 5 months

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GET TO KNOW THE WRITER

BOLD OR COLORIZE WHAT ALWAYS APPLIES TO YOU, ITALICIZE WHAT SOMETIMES APPLIES TO YOU, AND STRIKE THROUGH WHAT WILL NEVER APPLY TO YOU.

I RUN: lots of blogs || a few blogs || just this one

So I write here (of course), and then have Laura and Greer over at @gottahunt , and occasionally get on @whereisthatwritten but frankly I'm in the process of completely overhauling it and probably that will be simply for Valeria Richards and Molly Hayes (because all the other muses get all the grief and angst, bring in the teen heroes). For now, I'm here the most.

I FOLLOW BACK: muses in the same fandom || muses /blogs who interest me || fandomless muses || friends of mutuals || only members of a closed rp group || everyone

I don't ever think of myself as highly selective, and if I notice you've followed me there's a really good chance I'll follow back - unless I'm unaware of the fandom, probably. But I'm also easily distracted and don't always catch new followers.

I AM ACTIVE: more days than not || as often as not || some days here and there || depending on my school schedule || rarely || I'm often lurking even if I seem inactive

So my work lately has let me be here more often, and I tend to schedule some things through the day. I have periods of high activity, then low activity - and when it's lower, I'll try to have stuff queued.

I LIKE TO WRITE THESE THEMES: fluff || angst || action || casual interactions || intense interactions ||crack || first meetings || platonic rp || shipping / romantic rp || threads || ask memes || prompts

I will write anything and everything. I mean, I'm so unfunny and so slow at times I can never do crack right but I try! But yeah, I love platonic stuff. Love good old family and friends threads. I love some fighting and action, and drama. (with a splash of fluff). And I love shipping as well.

I PREFER ROLEPLAYS THAT ARE: one-liners || single-para threads || mutli para threads || novella || different lengths depending on my mood

I tend to write a lot. And I will apologise for that, because most of the time it's like... descriptions or inner monologue. I mean, please just let me know when I ramble too much. I've been rambling here! I tend to always go multi-para (but that can be as simple as two paragraphs), but I also can write more. It does depend on the mood. Please never be afraid of matching length.

FOR SHIPPING, I AM: multiship || single ship || poly ship || no ship || plotted ships only || open to new ships || not looking for new ships || mostly or exclusively looking for high engagement ship partners || mostly or exclusively looking for casual or low engagement ship partners || not picky about ships || somewhat picky about ships || extremely picky about ships

My only shipping rule, really, is chemistry. Whether it is a canon ship or not, it has to work out here. Sometimes people have different styles, some things are better as friends or rivals. So I'm not overly picky? I enjoy plotting ships but also enjoy spontaneous things and winging it. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t! And I’m always open to trying things. And if anyone wants a verse specific to our ship, I am open to it - I love having in jokes or mentioning other muses in other threads!

I LIKE TO PLOT: everything || most interactions || some interactions || first interactions || nothing || threads || everything except memes and crack || ships || family relationships || history / backstory for our muses

I love to chat about my muses. I have many headcanons and many thoughts (most of them just shoving images of my muses at you!). So I’m always open to plotting. Some days I have ideas, sometimes I don’t. It can be nice when fandoms are different to plot out things, but I’m not rigid about following plots. If you ever want to plot, hit me up!

TALK TO ME OUT OF CHARACTER: anytime || to plot || if you're confused or have questions in general || to remind me to reply || sparingly || only if it's really important

Honestly the same as plotting! I’m here to talk. It can be random, it can be about your muse or mine. Or none! It can be about new or old comics, random ideas, about our pets, anything.

I GIVE ALTERNATIVE CONTACT METHODS (discord / social media) TO: friends || mutuals || anyone who asks || people i've spent a lot of time talking to already || ship partners || members of a certain rp group || no one

I spend time on Discord a lot. I plot there, chat there, and happy to rp there. You’re more likely to catch me there during working hours haha need something to keep me going

tagged by: @kylo-wrecked (thank you!)

tagging: anyone! I’m not sure everyone who has and hasn’t done it but feel free to take this!

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tommyarashikage · 5 months

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1-6 for sol/sean!

thank you macy for enabling me :-) 💜

6 answered here!

1. What, specifically, was the catalyst for their physical attraction (if applicable) to the other character? In other words, what in particular had them like “Oh, they’re...hot...”

So, funny situation. They first meet in Sól's bar. Sean had his eye on her because he knew who she was but also because he thought she was pretty. He on the other hand was just kind of miserable looking, wet cat of a man, the usual. Still, there was something about him that piqued her interest, aside from him seeming extremely mysterious/shady. However, it wasn't until he (easily) fought the guys that threatened her that she thought he is hot. Sól standing her ground to those guys is what incited Sean to fight them in the first place. Admirable but also attractive. (Does that still count as physical attraction? lol)

2. Does this change over time? What things do they find “hot” about their partner after they’ve been together for some time, and have had more time to, well, notice and appreciate?

It doesn't change at all. It gets "worse" actually! Sól can't help but stare whenever Sean gets into a fight, which doesn't happen that often, but she enjoys it a little too much. Additionally, whenever he threatens someone, he does it in a taunting way, voice low. It does something to her. Which is not ideal because they fight each other later on, and well he doesn't lose that mannerism.

As I mentioned above, Sól isn't easily intimidated. She knows what power she holds and it fuels her confidence. That's something Sean finds hot. And mixed with her snark, sarcasm and playfulness it becomes even more enjoyable. That playfulness can also become alluring. Also, during intimate moments, even when they're just close to each other, the look she gives him, through half-lidded eyes, it does something to him. So, they both have a weak spot.

3. By contrast, what was the moment that first made their ~heart~ Soft for the other person? Not necessarily a conscious realization of “I love this person,” but a moment that had them like “Oh...I adore them...”

I've mentioned this in 6. but when Sól finds out they're actually enemies and laughs about it, that's when Sean realizes how much he adores her. Just generally her playful nature that no one else gets to see is what he adores so much about her. This is actually based on a song but it fits them well; she jokingly tells him '7 years of bad luck if you break my heart'. He found it funny at the time. Haha.

Seeing Sean go from the miserable loner that lurks in her bar to the lively soul (and lowkey bastard. really he is a smug bitch [affectionate]) makes Sól adore him. Everyone around her is usually in a serious or grim mood, even her sister as of late. So, he's great company.

4. Does this change over time? What will always reliably make them melt with how much they adore the other character?

WELL, technically not. Even though they both tell themselves they're over it. Those little things are what slowly draw them to each other again. It's the memories they have. They still see remnants of the person they loved, mostly in their eyes. But the main reason is Toby. When they see how the other treats him. Additionally, he really is his parents' son. They see so much of the other in him.

5. How do they consciously realize that they like the other character? Does it take them a while?

For Sean, there was this one night when he planned on telling her everything about himself. What he hasn't done yet, for the most part. And it scared him because he himself doesn't even like to think about it. She told him he didn't have to, what she knew was more than enough because those are the parts she learned of herself, just by being with him. It surprised him and for a second he would have left it at that but he felt like she deserved to know as much as he did about her. So, he did. And unlike he expected she didn't leave. She understood because they do have something in common when it comes to family. He devoted his whole life to her that night.

As for Sól, this certain scenario is actually a universal feeling to her; watching someone sleep in her bed or arms gives her a feeling of comfort and contentment she otherwise doesn't experience. It happens with her sister, with Sean and later with Toby. The first night she and Sean shared a bed, he fell asleep first and the feeling was indescribable to her. He was so calm it warmed her whole chest, it was such a rare sight. That's when she realized just how much she loved him.

#thank you!! <3 #oc: sól guevara #oc: sean thian #sól x sean #x: i'll give you everything of me #am i making them too fluffy?#their only toxic trait is that they're trying to kill each other #otherwise green flags only 😊

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halothenthehorns · 1 year

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Spoilery goodness on TSatS below!

I want to preface this by saying I've never been active in the PJO fandom before when something first came out. His books have always been on and off my radar every five years or so since I was in middle school and I binge read to catch up then move on to something else, but since I've been actively writing fanfiction for these books lately, here are my first, fresh thoughts.

First the good!

I actually really liked Will was a big ol' doofus damsel in distress. Not everybody needs to be a big action hero and 'useful' on a quest. Will was there purely for moral support because Nico was going back to a most dreaded place, and he fulfilled that roll with moderate success while the two worked on their issues. I will now forever laugh at Care Bare Powers activate, and Will punning his own name and just being happy to be along was all I wanted from him.

I don't know why anybody would say him and Nico were ooc. You do know characters adapt and change over time, right? Of course Nico's going to be slightly different than before, this is the first book we've ever seen him actively trying to be happy.

I did laugh at some parts, I did have whole chunks of chapters were I was invested and curious what was going to happen, and I can not say enough how much I love Bob and Small Bob!

The Gorgyra's parts were some of my favorite, I can't help but laugh there was a scenic route through Tartarus on the happy friendship boat by sharing memories, and that's what I really wanted out of this book. A little background on these boys, a good promise of their future, and that is exactly what I got.

The Cocoa Puffs are a hilarious addition and I hope Nico and Will name every one of them and they make terrifying additions in continuing novels.

It wasn't a great shock or twist or anything he left his darkness behind. I half expected it to be their treasured objects that were invented for this book, so the fact that it was instead a piece of Nico he always clung to was a fairish way out of it without having to dramatically kill somebody, or break up Solangelo, or worse, make it Bob.

Chapter 24 was probably my favorite. I really loved Persephone's talk with Will;

but this chapter also kind of highlights some of my bad.

I really get why a lot of people are saying it reads like preachy bad fanfiction. Persephone could have shown up and had that talk with Will without the whole, oh if somebody's forcing you to be in a bad relationship you should runaway as fast as possible detail.

There's whole chunks of the book like that.

I was genuinely bored on some of it, Epiales nightmares went on way to long when a first grader could figure out that's what was going on from the moment they reached the bottom the first time and mysteriously found their way at the top with a 'shadow' lurking behind them.

I like the sidequesty idea, the RR books had always been bad about doddling around to get to the real meat of the story with his sidequests and exploring more of the Underworld is always fun. The update on Geryon getting a boyfriend made me freeze up and mind blank for a good minute in shock, so I'll give it that.

I don't know, I think a good sideplot would have helped some of the structure problems. I've never written my own novel, I'm not going to pretend to think I can and should fix this, just my first thought.

The almost last bit where it was Hades who put all this together was another good example of why this was kind of cringe but mostly in line with the general RR series. The gods can never be OOC because they're gods. They can do whatever they want from book to book and it's just their mood for that moment. Hades breaking his rules to give Nico a moment with Bianca and Bianca (that's not a typo) was a sweet gesture and him using his son to get Bob out because his yelling got to loud was sweet and amusing.

But then they didn't do anything with the moment. It was just a quick shot, Bianca (actual Bianca) barley even got to say anything, and it was just over :( You spent whole pages of them just walking around like a Tolkien novel, you couldn't have given a little more emotion to Nico finally getting to talk to his mother and sister for the last time...

My only major complaint was the camp.

Dionysus was OOC. Him just sporadically being a good counselor and listening to Nico and caring is just, so, ugh. Not everybody needs to be nice and sweet and rainbows. I don't care I'm contradicting myself, Dionysus was written in previous books to care about the kids but in his own salty way about being stuck there, you didn't have to make him share his popcorn.

Chiron's always been like that. Oh, another big bad prophecy where my campers are off to do the most dangerous and world perilous things?

Cool, yeah, I'll be over here teaching archery, have fun with that.

The fact that there were no campers was?! I call absolute bull the 80-100+ kids that are supposedly there all have happy homes lives they went off to. Why would you even want to write it like the place was empty and barren? I wasn't even hoping for more OC and intense background, just a little casual time of Nico being accepted in camp which we only got on the first pages and then- Just, so much, !?

Thing two was Piper getting the check-up call at the end instead of Reyna. Yes authors, highlight the recently found out gay chick instead of Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano, Jason's best friend you keep forgetting existed and is now possibly exploring her Aro/Ace life with the Hunters and Jason's sister Thalia! This choice just personally infuriated me because I want a Hunters book sooooo bad, and I was desperately hoping when the scene started we were going to get a 'jump off' point for them like this book was at the end of ToA

If we get a Piper book next, maybe I'll get lucky and it'll be a team up book wit them, but I am not holding my breath at this rate.

5/10, would only recommend to hardcore RR fans. Will probably reread again someday, but years from now when I convince myself it might not have been as bland as I remember it.

#pjo #will solace #nico di angelo #tsats #spoilers #good thoughts #bad thoughts #opinions

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just-jordie-things · 9 months

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YESSSSSSS! I am so happy to hear there’s more scenarios after tbah finishes 🎉

Though at the same time, if you decide to absolutely crush my heart and feelings so I go back into therapy because of tbah - please do. It will certainly be better than what I went to therapy for last time 😂😂

As the other anon said, you have some of the best writing out there. I’ve lurked on tumblr for years and yes, while everyone can write, it takes a special kind of skill to actually grip someone to the point they are so invested into the story that they actually live for the characters. And I’m not downplaying other writers on tumblr, each and every one of them bring something to the table and it takes effort to write a story and I appreciate each and every one of them. Though once in a while, someone like you shows up that makes you feel things, somewhere from deep within, makes you relate to the characters in a way that makes you relive things in your life, makes you stop and think “damn, I do this”, or “i’ve felt this” and a skill like this doesn’t show up from nowhere.

So, to you and anyone else that enjoys writing, keep on doing what you enjoy. Do not give up. Strive to improve and be better than you were yesterday. Express yourself in this way, because there is always someone, somewhere that appreciates it, lives for it and keeps motivated because of it.

I’ve had a couple of beers and felt in a particular mood so excuse me. No shade thrown nor trying to insult anyone here. To me tumblr over the years has helped me discover so many talented people and has helped me get through some of the darkest times of my life so expressing appreciation seems like the right thing to do 🤷🏻‍♀️

- Gouda 🧀

ok i actually cried reading this. maybe i'm a little attention starved but it just means so, so much to me that even one person could be so involved with my writing. i'm pretty hard on myself even when i try not to be. and lately i've been feeling down about the direction of my life or lack thereof, and i've been really wondering if this silly little hobby is worth it and i just don't want to give it up for anything. ugh. tearing up again.

idk if it's sad or cringe that writing fanfics is my everything but it's truly my favorite thing to do. i enjoy so much coming up with ideas and exploring characters and worlds and all the soft and angsty feelings that come with it.

likes and followers isn't everything, so i hope i say this right. but. i don't think i'd enjoy this as much if i was writing just for me, or posting to a void, yk? like this message made my day, prolly my month, hell prolly my year. i'm still all teary writing this haha. but reading comments and tags and knowing there's someone that benefits from my goofy pastime, just puts me at ease, you know? it comforts me, and sometimes entertains me (i love y'alls silly comments abt how i ruin ur life <3)

anyways. thank you for the appreciation. it's hitting just right tonight and know i appreciate you and my mutuals and my readers so much as well!! i wouldn't be here without you. i just want y'all to enjoy what i put out <3

thank you all for sticking around. much love from this emotional writer

xoxo ~ jordie

#jordie says stuff #gouda anon 🧀

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venus-haze · 1 year

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could you perhaps tell more about the fics you’re working on? i love your writing i look forward to anything you post🫶🏼

I have a few so they'll be under the cut, but these are the fics that are currently in progress or I have plans to write (featuring Vincent Sinclair, Bo Sinclair, Severen Van Sickle, Father Paul Hill).

Also I have to thank you for sending this because I was fucking struggling with one major aspect of my Vincent fic and while I wrote out a whole bitchfest about it, the idea came to me lol. Thank you for the kind words about my writing too🖤

Vincent:

This is the one I swear I've been working on forever because I can't find myself being satisfied with what I've written.

Unbeknownst to the reader and Bo (who are constantly at each other's throats) but will be revealed in the fic of course, Vincent decides to keep the reader as his muse. As you try to figure out why Vincent chose you and how you can use that to your advantage to escape, you find yourself being pushed to your limits mentally and physically in the name of art. Vincent's also a major perv because his view of the artist/muse relationship is extremely warped by his upbringing, his own interpretations of different artist/muse relationships, and his deep loneliness and desire for love despite his appearance.

Bo:

Kind of a spiritual successor to Howl and Adam Raised a Cain where the reader works at the gas station with Bo and actually has to kill victims. Messy and guilty and emotional.

This one I literally just came up with when I reblogged that In the Mood for Love gifset because it's one of my all-time favorite movies and I'm bastardizing the hell out of it with this idea. The reader lived in Ambrose, but your family moved just before the sugar mill shut down. You and Bo knew each other back then, not necessarily friends, but how could you not know each other in such a small town. You unexpectedly reunite when your husband gets a new job back in Louisiana and in the town near Ambrose where Bo makes his supply runs. Bo being charming and disconcerting enough over weeks of coffee "dates" for you to agree to go with him to the Sinclair house for dinner while your husband's out of town on a business trip for old times' sake. Your hometown is a lot different than you remember.

Severen:

Okay, I started writing one fic with the intention of it being a standalone thing, but then I wanted to write the background of Severen turning you for my own sake, so it'll probably be two fics coming out of this idea. ANYWAY the gist is Severen crashes your girls' night out with Diamondback and Mae because what's a party (massacring and incinerating a bar of unsuspecting patrons) without your clingy, show-off mate showing up.

Father Hill:

I feel like this premise sounds kinda cheesy Hallmark romcom on the surface, but I promise it'll be as uncomfortable and gory as I can make it. You quit your corporate job and buy a home on Crockett Island for dirt cheap, having come into money from a source that makes you feel extremely guilty but you refuse to disclose to anyone. You decide in your self-imposed isolation to try your hand at art after giving up the hobby not long after you started working in corporate America. Since Crockett Island is so fucking small and new people almost never move onto the island, everyone's interest is piqued, but especially Father Paul's when he discovers you're a lapsed Catholic with a sin that threatens to consume you. The two of you have extremely different interpretations of your interactions over the weeks, but it's too late to turn back when you discover the darkness that lurks within the parish, courtesy of the pastor himself.

#im so sorry anon im just rambling in this #ask tag

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