Tumgik
#but goddammit I /will/ break the cycle
peanutbutterfiles · 3 months
Text
*fighting through trauma spiral brain and repeating through clenched teeth* I am in the business of good faith. If someone is off or rude when it is uncalled for I will give them the benefit of the doubt and assume they are having a bad day and I won’t hold it against them. I will instead respond like they were neutral and move on. I do not need to shame myself or others. I am in the business of good faith on behalf of both of us.
1 note · View note
wing-ed-thing · 3 months
Text
Smoker x Pirate!Reader Relationship Headcanons
Tumblr media
Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns, Mild Sexualization
𓆃 This... isn't going to go as well as you think it will.
𓆃 Because Smoker is one of the last people in the service who will throw away all of his deeply held views on justice and what that means just to chase the tail of an attractive pirate.
𓆃 Much of your relationship— or lack thereof— will look relatively normal on the outside with Smoker chasing you and you running from the Marines like the pirate you are.
𓆃 And any enjoyment you get out of your limited interactions will be largely up to you. It's on you whether you want to tease him, drag on your fights, and give him a firm slap on the ass before you leave, because Smoker isn't about to initiate any sort of closeness or fondness from his end.
𓆃 He's never going to make comments that resemble anything complimentary or claim his goals are anything different than taking you into custody.
𓆃 Although Smoker is a fan of repartee. So, while worming your way out of your Marine/pirate relationship is a no-go, you can warm him up to you through witty banter.
𓆃 And depending on your demeanor, you can essentially make yourself a part of Smoker's routine, and fighting you suddenly turns into a formality.
𓆃 "I suppose there's no way I could ask you to turn yourself in quietly, huh?" Smoker puffs every time, taking a drag of his cigar with his eyes cast toward the sky. He already knows how things between you end.
𓆃 You'll get away, and it'll be time for him to track you down so you can banter with him and start the cycle all over again.
𓆃 While his intentions to follow through with his orders will never quell, the more he develops a soft spot for you, the more negotiating he'll begin to do.
𓆃 First, they're with himself, as if his growing fondness and fixation for you are normal for his line of work.
𓆃 "It's a matter of pride," he'll grumble, "I'm a Marine, goddammit."
𓆃 Sticking to the work excuse doesn't last for long. After all, Smoker isn't one to lie to himself. And so the negotiations will shift to you.
𓆃 "You're wasted as a goddam pirate," "Look, if you turn yourself in, I might be able to pull a few strings to get you back on your feet after your sentencing," "We've been through this song and dance enough... c'mon now."
𓆃 You're not sure if he realizes that he's subconsciously resorted to trying to convince you to become a part of his world. That somehow you might join up or leave your life of crime behind— like that would change anything.
𓆃 Smoker will walk up to you with a sigh, his weapon thrown across his shoulder and his opposite hand in the pocket of his jacket.
𓆃 "No way you're turnin' yourself in?" he'll ask.
𓆃 "No chance in hell, Smoky," you'll tell him with a shake of your head.
𓆃 And that's how your relationship will go.
𓆃 There might be some times when he has no other choice but to deviate from your usual routine. Perhaps the stars aligned in your favor or the cards were stacked against him in a scenario where it made more sense to let you go.
𓆃 Or maybe he'll give into a lapse in judgment, giving into you a bit more but still never dropping his closely-held position in the Marines for a second.
𓆃 The only stability you'll have together is the consistent cycle of him trying to arrest you. And unless one of you gives in, that's all you'll ever truly be.
𓆃 No matter what the feelings are, what's happened in the past, or the fleeting moments of intimacy, Smoker isn't going to be the one to break.
𓆃 So it becomes a question of your freedom and if you're willing to give that up for the mere chance of a life with a man who you don't even know will truly accept you because of your past.
𓆃 Perhaps you'll see if and when the World Government crumbles...
Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.
148 notes · View notes
candyredmusings · 1 month
Text
Bioshock Splicer Starters
Assortment of dialogue taken from the a from two types of Splicers in the first Bioshock game; Baby Jane and the Breadwinner
Other Bioshock Splicer starters: TBA [Dr. Grossman & Lady Smith] [Pigskin & Rosebud] [Toasty & Waders]
Baby Jane
Get away from my face! Not on my face!"
"Oh! Oh, God damn it!"
"Look at yourself! And you would do it too!"
"Talentless?! BORING?!"
"You don't deserve this!"
"I'm a star, not you!"
"You're jealous, jealous!"
"Why did you cut me?! Why?!"
"You did this to me! You!"
"I deserve it, you fuck!"
"Give me the part, you bastard!"
"Off. My. Stage! GET OFF!"
"Stop ogling me!"
"You're making me lose my place! STOP IT!"
"No, it's not perfect, AGAIN!"
"He's standing in the wrong place!"
"Get your FAT. HANDS. AWAY FROM ME!"
"Just say something, goddammit!"
"What's that? Is it him?!"
"I smell something nasty."
"Is that someone naughty?"
"Honey? Is that you…?"
"I heard that!"
"It hurts, it hurts…"
"Why did you…?"
"I'm sorry… We can do it together!"
"DARLING! I'M HOME EARLY!"
"I don't- I don't wanna- I don't wanna hear this… I- [Whimpering] I don't want to hear this…"
"Pretend you're not interested. They like that."
"Have it your way, you sleaze!"
"Well, that was good drama."
"Get a girl all bothered… for NOTHIN'!"
"That gets a girl's blood flowing."
"I'll be better next time! Please?! Don't go!"
"When we do meet, it's gonna be so nasty!"
"He's gone! They always leave…"
"When I murder you I'm gonna put your body in a dress!"
"My god, there's so much blood!"
"Aw, Jesus, what did you do to me?!"
"I'm NOT. DEALING WITH THIS!"
"No… No No No. Wha- What's- What's that? Oh, no no, no…"
"In the theater, a woman gets used to attention."
"She was up for the part as well, but then they found her in a salt pond."
"I was gonna be famous… now look at this dump!"
"Who needs to make it on Broadway? When you can make it here."
"What's the matter with me…? I'm pretty enough!"
"Hey fella'! Don't 'cha wanna take a walk with me?"
"Come on, baby! You told me you was gonna take care of me! Were you lying…?"
"I used to be beautiful. What happened to me?!"
"Why are you making this so hard for me?!"
"C'mere and say that to my face, you slimey bastard!"
"You wanna play with me?"
"Hello? Did you come to talk to me?"
"I can be nice if I want to…"
"Next time, work on your timing."
"Oh, and we were just getting to the best bit!"
"Tell me you love me! Go on, say it!"
"Just pretend, you imbecile!"
"You ruined me!"
"No one touches me! No one!"
"You won't touch me again!"
"Someone shou- should do this for me, someone should be doing this for me!"
Breadwinner
"Get out of my territory!"
"Amateur! Fuckin' amateur!"
"I'm top dog, you shit!"
"GET OUTA MY FUCKIN' OFFICE!"
"You come to my town?! To MY TOWN?!"
"You're a nobody! Nobody!"
"Who the hell is that?"
"Yeah? Well, you're fired! Ya got that?"
"I was right, I tell ya. I was right, god damn it."
"Come on. Gimme a break!"
"Come on. Just let me explain, will ya?"
 "I'm too busy for this shit."
"Waste of my goddamn time."
"This isn't makin' me time OR money!"
"Goddammit, I'm bleeding!"
"Ahh. Ahh yeah, finally some service! Woo!"
"What happened to this thing?"
"Ha, it's my lucky day!"
"She should not have come here."
"Ah, a man can start a business down here, yeah. Now now, it's- it's not too late. I'll get to it."
"It's just a bad quarter. Naw, that's all. Yeah, market'll come back, huh? Yeah! Everything'll be fine. Yeah, it'll all be fine… Augh."
"I just gotta wait out the down cycle. I'm a success… I'm a fuckin' success!"
"I ain't afraid of failure… cause I ain'ts gonna fail!"
"These assholes don't get it. I'm a winner!"
"Came here to get rich… ain't gonna leave 'till I do!"
"Came down here with a dream… That dream's gonna happen."
"Aw, come on… they're gonna kill me if I lose you!"
"That's it? We're done?"
"You think that I'm dumb? Sure, sure, why not? You keep on thinkin' that."
"You think I wouldn't notice if you just waltzed in here? Huh?"
"I'll tell you what: I'll pay you to stay alive next time. How's that for a deal, you shit head."
"I earned this! Me!"
"You give it to me, you hear?"
"Just open your mouth."
"Ah, whose fault is this?"
"Look at this dump! Nothing left but nothing!"
49 notes · View notes
viintxgephrxg · 6 months
Text
𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑳 𝑶𝑭 𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑯 [ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]
Tumblr media
[ɴᴏᴛ ᴍʏ ɢɪꜰ - ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛs ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴏʀ]
[𝐂𝐎𝐃/𝐀𝐍𝐏𝐔!𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑]
➤ 𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠: 𝖦𝗁𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗅 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋, 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖿 𝗈𝖿 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗌𝗈𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇- 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖺 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗀𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖠𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾
➤ 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: 𝖥𝗈𝗎𝗅 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾, 𝗐𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾, 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗆𝖺𝗃𝗈𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁, 𝖻𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍, 𝖢𝖮𝖣 𝗅𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗎𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗂𝖾𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝖠𝗇𝗎𝖻𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖽 <𝟥
➤ 𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥’𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘: 𝖧𝖤𝖫𝖫𝖮! 𝖬𝗒 𝗀𝗈𝖽 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗒 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌! 𝖨’𝗆 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝗒 ‘𝖠𝗇𝗉𝗎’ 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌- 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖢𝖮𝖣 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝗂𝗑𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗌𝗈 𝖨 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖨 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝖾 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝖽𝖺𝗆𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽! <3
[ᴜɴᴇᴅɪᴛᴇᴅ]
[Y/Name] was no stranger to the deaths that plagued the military. Any branch and any squadron— the career was laced with it. And due to their duties they had to always be there for every one of them. Every single one.
And every single one continued to chip away at the strong and resilient mental fortitudes they had built to keep themselves from falling. From breaking.
Young men and women, a lot of them no older than at least 25. All of them had given [Y/Name] looks, regarding them with pain, sometimes anger.. even happiness in a few particularly unpleasant moments. In those cases they’d only wished those young adults had gotten the help they needed before it had been too late.
Older men and women that in a fit of despair and longing to be part of the living realm once more ask the reaper one of two things.
Did I make a difference? Did I matter?
And the Anubis avatar would always respond with reassurances and promises of comfort. Trying their best to make those aching souls of fallen soldiers pass to a better and more peaceful world.
You made a difference where it mattered. Of course you did— you still do. Look at all those who mourn you, look at all the success that follows your courage. Look at the change you fought so hard for.
It was the most they could offer to those souls, the best they could do at comforting someone who’d just passed on. Someone who was looking at their own body like an astral projection— longing to be settled within it once again. And mourning the fact they could not.
Yes, young [Y/Name] had long since built a thick wall surrounding their weakened heart and soul. To protect themself from the profound pain that transcends beyond their reach whenever they’re tasked with freeing a soldier’s soul from it’s mortal bonds.
Far too compassionate to greet the distressed and heartbroken souls with cold indifference and also far too broken themself to mourn for too long if at all.
A vicious cycle.
Regardless, this shouldn’t have been any different.
“Simon! Stay with me Si, goddammit!”
And yet—
“C’mon Ghost! Don’t die on us!”
—this was absolutely different.
Three men— kneeled down to cradle close a corpse. The fourth man of this task force. An exemplary team of elites fallen to their knees, begging for their brother to reawaken. To breathe a wheeze of pain, to cough as blood crawled up his throat— each one indicative of pain and discomfort but at least it would mean he was alive.
[Y/Name] could feel it. The profound hurt of heavy weighted trauma and the ache of deeply buried and suppressed memories and feelings. They felt the masked man’s pain, like titanium on their bones and swords in their heart.
It was a pain that was very muted, quiet and withheld in the very back of his mind. Kept bound and locked tight behind steel bars and barbed wire barriers. Like a monster of some kind— this man was handling his pain like a trained professional would handle a dangerous animal.
Aware of its presence, aware of the dangerous potential it had of overpowering him and devouring him whole. Aware that if he did not keep it locked up tight that it would eat away at him until he was a hollow shell of himself.
[Y/Name] could tell that he relatively already was, having endured so much damage to his psyche.. to his heart and his soul.
And within the confines of a defended part of his heart they found something interesting, there was vulnerability there. Vulnerability that was tainted with sorrow and pain. With fear.
[Y/Name] figured that this man must’ve built this masked persona to protect and shelter that vulnerability. To keep it safe no matter what, refusing to let it burn out just like the rest of his feelings and emotions— useless and unnecessary things that he let wither to nothing.
Was that why it felt different? Of course, they have encountered their fair share of broken men and women who enlist to be active duty. And they’ve met their fair share of soldiers that have been hurting for a very long time but somehow found the strength to keep going. This man was different, so drastically different from any they’ve met before. And as such, they decided on the calmest and softest approach they were capable of.
You have suffered long enough.
[Y/Name] stepped forward, there was an abrupt whooshing sound behind them followed by a dull clink as their Anubis appeared. Only visible to his avatar, and his avatar only visible to the spirits that have passed on. A cloaking technique Anubis had taught them. So they could do their duties without the interference of any mortals that happened to be nearby when they released the souls of the dead.
“Proceed with understanding and the compassionate heart I know you for my little jackal. For this man has suffered more than a soul ever should.”
The avatar didn’t answer, not verbally nor with a tick of their head. Simply nearing the group of men and reaching down to the one on the ground. Cradled close to the chest of the one with a silly mohawk. The man hurting and sorrowful as he held his beloved friend in his arms. Broken and gone.
[Y/Name] swallowed thickly to ignore the stagnant air of despair and grief that punctured through their defenses. Not quite dense enough to destroy their walls but profound enough to give them a little ache in their chests. Reasonably sympathetic— sympathy that was quick to evolve to empathy as they didn’t bother to withhold the pained grimace on their face.
“You are released,” they cited. Dutifully. Monotonously as they gripped the spirit’s hand. Pulling him free from his mortal body with a tug and heave. When they did— the men on the ground surrounding him only became more distressed. Mohawk especially, considering he was the one holding the masked man so close. So tenderly.
He must’ve felt when the man had passed on, there’s no way he hadn’t. And the avatar sympathized once again on his pain, it must not be easy feeling the once living, breathing body in your arms go still. Go cold.
They couldn’t have imagined it was fun experiencing that, and they were understanding of the man’s begging. Of his cries of denial.
But they didn’t dwell for long— they had a job to do.
“Who are you? Where am I?”
They still had their hand clasped in the masked man’s and he gripped them harder when he had gained enough sense to start asking things. He had a million questions and even more conclusions— of that, [Y/Name] was sure. And they would be happy to answer them all, but it was always best to ease them into the truth of what had occurred—
“Is— is that me?”
—or not.
[Y/Name] winced, they used the grip on his hand to squeeze gently. It drew his attention back to them and there was an obvious stitch in his brow, furrowed i’m confused frustration as he regarded them. They softly exhaled through their nose.
“Yes. I’m sorry.”
He regarded you for a dull moment, his expression neutral and withheld— strong in his defiance to give anything away. Why it mattered, you did not know.
But then his look changed, like the flick of a switch his eyes were suddenly filled with mournful regret and reluctance. Refusal to accept what he was seeing, what has occurred.
“No, no I can’t— I can’t die.. they need me.”
[Y/Name] felt a twist in their stomach, an itch in their chest that they couldn’t quite scratch. They realized but a second later that they felt sorry for the poor guy, the way he looked broken and beat down. They had to admit they admired his loyalty— defiant in the face of a reaper in hopes of finding his way back to his body. To be reunited with the family he was leaving behind.
“You needn’t worry about them,” [Y/Name] soothed, still holding his gloved hand in their own they squeezed it reassuringly and he found his attention back to them once more. “They’ll be alright.”
“But.. Makarov—”
“They will handle it.”
[Y/Name] watched as he swallowed thickly, a subtle twitch in his brow to display his discomfort without saying it outright. They could tell by the way his eyes fell, the look held within those rich brown irises that he was fighting himself.
Simon wasn’t even sure why he was so reluctant to follow his reaper to the afterlife, he’d known he would die on the battlefield since the very beginning. It was not a new concept to him and it was not something he was afraid of. But still, he felt.. hesitant to leave his team behind. Was it that ever-going loyalty and sacrificial nature he had gained as a Lieutenant? Or did these men really mean that much to him? He hoped it was the former— too afraid of his feelings to admit that in reality it was most likely the latter.
The thing is; he hadn’t really expected to be met with a reaper in the first place. He spent his long, and quite frankly rather miserable existence, hoping death was what he had craved his whole life. Peace. Peace and rest.
If he had a reaper did that mean they were to guide him to that? Lead him to the very thing he had yearned so achingly for since that miserable Christmas so many years ago?
He shouldn’t be reluctant to go, he shouldn’t feel remorse for being selfish for once in his entire life. This is something he wanted.. this is what he was owed.
“Okay… I’m— I’m ready.”
[Y/Name] smiled softly at him and nodded minutely. Then, with the grip they had on his gloved hand, turned and walked away from the scene.
Simon didn’t have any choice but to follow, swallowing thickly once again to push down the ache that had crawled up his throat. He followed the reaper by hand as they walked but he kept his eyes on his teammates— on his corpse as they guided him away from his death.
He felt a sudden ache at the way Soap— Johnny was holding him so close. So lovingly. And as he got further and further away, as their silhouettes slowly became more and more distorted and faded he had only a few words to utter passed his lips. “Forgive me.”
Simon, in some small part of his heart, felt like he was doing the wrong thing. He was in the wrong for choosing to pursue the peace he craved over selflessly giving it up in order to live on. He’d still be unhappy sure, but his team would still have him. He’d be there to watch their backs, offer a shoulder.. be their brother.
He came to the realization that even if he did choose to be selfless— the reaper wouldn’t have granted him a second chance at life anyway.
“Was I to die no matter what? You couldn’t have offered me my life?”
The teenager he was addressing looked at him with a tight expression on their face, unbeknownst to him, this is something a lot of people asked them. People who were not done with their lives, people who begged them for a second chance— to see things beyond their reach, to experience the incredible wonders the world had to offer them. [Y/Name] had no shame in admitting they felt bad about denying them every time.
As the avatar to Anubis they would only release and guide the souls of those who’ve passed. They only encountered those truly dead.. not those who have close calls.
“Yes you were, I could not offer you more time as you do not have any.”
At the confused furrow of his brows they explained further.
“Everyone that is born has a certain stretch of time attached to them, it is essentially a clock on their life. I’m able to see these numbers in accordance with my duties but they aren’t visible to anybody else.”
“And mine—” He trailed off expectantly.
“Reached zero.” They filled.
Simon went silent after that, understanding of his situation and accepting of the fact nothing could’ve been done to change the outcome. He was dead.
In his silence he took the time to gather his surroundings, everything was pure white. Starkly contrasting to his and his reaper’s dark gear. For a brief moment he thought he was in heaven.. but he quickly shot that idea down. There was no way a man like him could ever get into heaven, not with the war crimes tagged to his person and not with all the morally wrong things he’s done in his career.
The atmosphere of the environment still bewildered him, and it confused him enough to want to ask his reaper about it. The reaper whom still hadn’t let go of his hand, of course he wasn’t naive and childish enough to assume it was because they thought he needed the comfort. It was probably the only way they could move his soul to the Afterlife. If he lost physical contact with them he had the inkling of an idea that he’d be trapped here in this blindly white landscape. Isolated and alone.
Still, he felt grounded as he held their hand. And he had no qualms against the action, their touch was comforting and warm against his palm. And he felt at ease as they guided him along.
The question in the back of his mind remained though, and he willed it passed his lips with an air of muted confusion.
“Where are we?”
“Hm, some like to refer to it as ‘Purgatory’— the path between worlds. The bridge to destinations.”
“Is that what it is?”
“Essentially.”
Their walk continued on in silence once again, and the young teenager had the mind to only speak when spoken to first. Allowing the masked man to quell in his acceptance and smiled when they could feel the muted excitement he held beneath the surface.
They hoped he would enjoy wherever it was they were bringing him to, see, [Y/Name] didn’t usually get to see the souls’ chosen afterlife. Choosing to step back after releasing them and allowing them the freedom they deserved to build their perfect paradise where they could find their eternal happiness.
But again.. this man was different. He was so deeply broken that the Anubis avatar felt somewhat obligated to guide him to his restful peace themself. So they did.
Seconds later he spoke up once more, and [Y/Name] could feel the twitch in his chest, tightly wound and moving uncomfortably beneath his skin.
“I’m— …afraid.” He admitted in a bout of courageous honesty. Effectively breaking the silence between them with his words. They recalled Anubis’ words to them, and approached him as gently as they could.
“Do not be afraid, there’s no more to fear in death than in the changing of the seasons.”
Simon huffed at that, he didn’t want to think there was anything to be feared in the afterlife. But now that he was face-to-face with his reaper he wasn’t so sure. The Angel of Death had come for him, and he did not know where they were taking him.
He hoped —in a moment of vulnerability— that it was somewhere nice… somewhere quiet. Where he could finally rest and be at peace away from a world of trial and tribulation. Away from a world that had spat on him at every turn, cruel and inhumane was the life he suffered through. Now, he only hoped for peace. That’s all he could ask for.
The change was slow, sluggish as it claimed the white landscape surrounding him. Colors began to appear, slowly ever so slowly as they walked the world around him changed before his very eyes. And suddenly they weren’t in Purgatory anymore— but standing before a cabin surrounded by forest. It was in this environment when the reaper finally released his hand in favor of crossing their arms over their chest.
“This is the Afterlife?” Simon queried, he wasn’t entirely sure of his surroundings. They were oddly.. homely. Comfortable.
The darkness the night sky overcasted the landscape with was cozy and peaceful. Stars shining bright above, stamped into the night sky as dazzling speckles across a spanning space of deep blue and golden clusters of constellations.
The surrounding forest was alive with the background chirping of crickets. Melodically coupled well with the sounds of nocturnal animals croaking and howling, filling the night air with crackled bursts of life. An owl call twists Simon’s head to the woods he and his reaper stood before, the raptor calls again and a sense of serenity abruptly erupts within. Bright and delightfully warm, alight in his chest and settling in his stomach.
But the warmest and most homely piece of this concocted paradise was the small cottage in front of him. Two-stories tall and wide enough to be a home but not too wide it’s size is overwhelmingly obnoxious. There was a wrap-around porch complete with a swinging bench swaying in the soft breeze. The light coming from within was pale and bathed the outside plants and shrubbery at the base of the wooden cottage in a gorgeous, golden glow. Somebody was home— there was smoke coming from the chimney. White fog curling as it flowed out through the gap at the top.
Simon felt a twinge of jealousy disturb that warmth he’d previously felt, and he turned to the reaper at his side slightly peeved they’d bring him here. Show him something he could not ever have before finally delivering him to whatever hell was awaiting him… the hell he knew that he deserved.
“Why did you bring me here?”
[Y/Name] elected to ignore the slight snarl in his tone, choosing instead to focus more on the way his voice lilted with misery and confusion. The soft notes of despondency in his voice as he addressed them. The crestfallen gleam in his eye that glinted at them. “This is the Afterlife.”
Simon’s brow twitched, the previous twitch of jealous frustration now more bubbled into confusion as he regarded them with a furrowed brow.
“What?”
“The Afterlife is however you imagine it to be, I do things this way so wayward souls —lost and hurt— can finally be at peace. Finally find the happiness that evaded them so long in their time being alive.” They explained, all with a soft and understanding look on their face. Compassionate and careful as they looked at him.
“This is my—”
“This is yours.”
Simon was quick to face the small cottage once more, his heart was racing as it beat thunderous in his ears. A childish excitement he hadn’t felt since he was a little boy warming his chest once again. It was when he saw shadows and silhouettes moving through the house that he felt the warmth burst inside. Electrifying him as it buzzed beneath his skin.
He didn’t understand the fundamentals of this being dead thing— surely he shouldn’t be able to feel such things as a wandering soul right?
“It is normal to feel such things.”
And there goes his reaper again, reading him so drastically easy and careful that he could’ve sworn they were inside his head. Maybe they were.. again, he was new to this whole ‘being dead’ thing.
“You may not understand it, and it may not make much sense to you if at all. But your soul is the truest and purest part of you, it’s where your feelings are born and where your vulnerability is kept sheltered and safe. Of course you’d feel your feelings, wether it be excitement or pain.”
For a kid, they’re awfully mature. And that was something he acknowledged silently. He didn’t know when he had turned to face them during their tangent but he found himself staring at the side of their face. He blinked when they turned to look at him, holding strong eye contact and regarding him gently once again.
“Go on Simon,” they nodded their head to the cottage with an encouraging smile. “They’re all waiting for you.”
“Waiting—”
“Just go.”
Simon wasn’t sure. Surely, a reaper —supernatural being tasked with guiding and guarding lost souls— wouldn’t bring him to a place where he would only find more suffering right? He didn’t expect it out of this particular reaper either, regardless of the age they appeared to be they seemed so understanding and kind.
So he pushed down his reluctance and anxiety at approaching the cabin and willed forth the courage and bravery he found in being a soldier instead. Squaring his shoulders and marching down the stone path straight up to the front door.
[Y/Name] watched carefully as he paused at the bottom of the steps and turned back to face them. They gave him a single encouraging nod, and they watched as he took a deep breath before turning to face the front door again. Taking two long strides up the stairs and two more steps to reach the front door.
Again, the avatar watched as he hesitated before he raised his hand and knocked three times on the door.
Simon was so wholly unprepared for the person that answered the door. Seeing her face again, so beautiful and loving as she looked at him in utter shock. A wave of emotion suddenly upturned him, and the tears welling up in her eyes as she reached up to gently cup his face were enough to destroy his dam. Tears of his own aching behind the backs of his eyes as they were drawn forward before streaming down his cheeks in thick rivulets.
“Si?”
“Mom.”
[Y/Name] couldn’t help the grin that tugged at the corners of their lips as they watched the reunion unfold. A traumatized and deeply hurt man reverting back to a little boy in the arms of his mother. This is what gave their job purpose and meaning, this was what they had stuck around as Anubis’ avatar for so long for. This.
“Well done, my little jackal.”
And they were gone, back to the real world with their God and back to the duty of helping others find their peace as they had done for Simon.
Simon who turned back to the forest to thank the reaper that brought him here only to rear back when he saw they were no longer there.
“What is it?”
He exhaled quietly at the disappointment he felt at his reaper’s disappearance but didn’t push it past the minor feeling in his chest. A feeling that was overwhelmed by the feeling of joy, happy finally—
“Nothing, Ma.”
“Come inside, everyone will be so happy to see you.”
And Simon followed without fight, no longer reluctant to be here so long as this is the Afterlife that awaited him. Still, mentally he offered his gratitude and hoped somewhere, wherever the reaper was due next.. they could feel it.
Thank you.
You’re welcome Simon.
➤ 𝗔𝗨𝗧𝗛𝗢𝗥’𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘: 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖨 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖨’𝗆 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗌𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝗁𝗒- 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗐𝖺𝗒, 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒𝖾𝖽! ��𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗁 ‘𝖠𝗇𝗉𝗎’ 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾! 𝖨𝖿 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺 𝗐𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗅𝗆𝖺𝗈
131 notes · View notes
ro-written · 11 months
Text
Don't Wanna Fall In Love pt. 1 - C.Y
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tags/Warnings: gn!reader, player!Yeonjun, college!AU, bestie!Wooyoung, cursing, mentions of sex (no smut though!), partying, alcohol consumption
Word Count: 2.3k
Playlist:
“No Role Modelz” by J. Cole “Don’t Wanna Fall In Love” by Kyle
Part 2
Tumblr media
Choi Yeonjun was known around campus for a variety of reasons. He was attractive, had decent grades, and was in a well-known friend group everyone wanted to join.
And he was a player.
Everyone knew this. And yet everyone seemed to think they could change him. Lock him down in a relationship and claim him as a trophy—an easy ride into popularity at school. 
Yeonjun knew this every time he brought someone new into his apartment. But the thing was, that’s what made it so fun to him. Seeing what new tricks they would try to get him to ask them out on a proper date. The best attempt so far was cooking him a full breakfast in the morning rather than leaving altogether. That morning he sat there, ate breakfast in silence, and then gave them his signature “sympathetic” smile, followed by his usual spiel:
“I’m not really the best boyfriend type. Honestly, I’m kind of shitty at relationships. We can be friends though! I do hope you understand.” 
It was well rehearsed after giving it to an assortment of people. Tweaked and polished to perfection. Started by giving a reason that explained his response, put the blame on him and his “shittiness” at relationships, gave them an alternative answer, and played at their sympathy. And they would eat it up every time. Admit their defeat as they walked out the door of his flat.
It was a cycle that repeated every time. And somehow, he never got tired of it.
You were never quite one for parties. At the risk of sounding like the “not like every other girl” trope, you just didn’t find too much enjoyment in them. Wasn’t your crowd, wasn’t your scene, but you never held it against others who did enjoy them. Your best friend, for example, was very into parties.
“Woo, I don’t know–”
“Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease,” he pleaded as he gave you his best puppy dog eyes.
Yes, Wooyoung was very into parties, and tonight would be one of the bigger ones that Yeonjun and his crew were throwing at Choi Beomgyu’s house. A celebration for the end of the first semester and surviving through finals. And your best friend was dead set on getting you to go to one party before you both left out for winter break.
“You know how I feel about those things…why can’t we just stay in and drink! I’ll even make your favorite ramen.” You tacked the last part of the sentence as a way to sweeten the deal, knowing he had a hard time saying no to your ramen. His eyebrows went up as he thought deeply about it.
“That’s a very tempting offer, I must admit,” he scratched his jaw. “But I really, really, really wanna go to this party. It’s being hosted by the Fabulous Five."
“Very stupid name.”
“Shut it.”
“I mean who calls themselves ‘the Fabulous Fi’–”
“Okay, I don’t think they call themselves that, everyone else just does,” he rolled his eyes and put his hands in the air. You laughed at his exasperated state, knowing that you could give just as much attitude as he could throw your way. 
“But that’s not the point. The point is that this party means a lot to me,” he looked you in the eye, fully serious. “And I would really like it if my best friend was there beside me.” His words struck a deep cord in you. There was turmoil going on between your head and heart. Your heart was telling you to go with and be there for your best friend, just as he is there for you in everything. Your head told you to stay back, that you would absolutely hate it there. It would all be too much for you, and you knew that.
But goddammit, Wooyoung was looking at you like a hopeful little kid right now.
“You make it sound like you’re getting married, Jung.”
“If I find the right person tonight, maybe I will,” he laughed, grabbing your hand. “Pretty please? I will do the dishes all of next week.”
With a sigh, you looked down at your hand in his and gave it a squeeze. You really did hate doing the dishes.
“Fine.”
It was all…quite loud.
As soon as you stepped into the house the heat from all the bodies hit you. Smoke made the air so thick you could almost chew it. The volume of the music really did a number on your ears.
You had found a stair step that wasn’t being used to sit and scroll on your phone. Wooyoung had gone off somewhere with some dark-haired boy - saying something about “I’ll be back in a bit” - and left you to your own device. 
For a while you people watched. There was a beer pong game going you found to be interesting, and afterward, a round of stack cup. You recognized a few of the players from your classes but weren’t super close to any of them. A few people went past you on the stairs up to god-knows-where, which you would shift out of the way a bit to avoid being stepped on. Some people you knew by name swung by to say hey, but that was the extent of your conversations in the midst of the chaos.
Eventually, nothing seemed all too interesting anymore, and you found yourself turning to your phone to do literally anything. You watched some videos, looked through the news a bit, texted back a friend or two, and before you knew, it only thirty minutes had gone by. You closed off your phone and hung your head, social battery depleting fast.
“You look like you could use a drink.”
A voice came from in front of you, and you looked up to find the source.
Choi Yeonjun stood right in front of you, holding out a cup of some transparent drink with an orange tint to it. Your eyes flickered from the drink up to his face, a gentle smile gracing it.
“No offense, but I don’t typically take drinks from strangers.” You gave him a light smile in order to politely decline him. He could have done anything to that drink, I don’t know him.
You knew of Yeonjun’s reputation around your school. You weren’t one to judge anyone for what they chose to do with their bodies. You’ve had a few one-night stands here and there but never made it a frequent thing. You did, however, try to go out of your way to steer clear of him and his friends out of not wanting to be caught up in any attention. Many of his escapades were pretty vocal about their time with him, and it brought them a bit of notice from your peers. You preferred to not be a similar case.
He smiled and nodded his head at your rejection, before putting the same cup to his mouth and downing the liquid. Your eyes widened a bit at how fast he took it down, before giving him another smile and looking awkwardly around at the other party-goers.
“Perhaps,” he started after a moment of silence. “I could accompany you to the kitchen. You could make your own drink, and I can properly introduce myself so we aren’t strangers anymore.” He offered a hand out to you, which you looked at for a second, wrestling your options. 
Either A: Stay here and wait till Wooyoung comes back after who knows how long…
Or B: Go grab a little drink to help make it through this night.
Grabbing his hand, you stood up from the stairs. You immediately dropped it, which caused Yeonjun to furrow his eyebrows a bit before collecting himself.
“Follow me.”
Your curtains brought direct sunlight into your eyes, causing you to stir a bit to shift away from the assault. You groaned as your arm came up to cover your face.
And suddenly, an arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close to a warm body next to you.
Now I’m awake.
Your head whipped to the side to see Yeonjun still asleep next to you, his pouty lips were slightly open, cheek smushed against your pillow. His black hair was splayed across the pillow, giving him a bit of bedhead. 
Eventually, your eyes trailed down his neck to his bare chest, and lower to where the blanket covered his waist down. You brought your eyes down and found you were wearing his shirt from last night, some band tee that had been oversized on him. 
Your heart was racing as you tried to place all the spotty memories in order.
Kitchen for drinks.
We were talking on a couch at some point.
More drinks, I think.
Wooyoung left out, said he wasn’t going back to the apartment tonight.
You told Yeonjun you were headed out, he wanted to walk back with you.
“Gotta make sure you’re safe.”
You invited him into your apartment to sober up a bit before he left.
So how did he get into your bed?
“Um,” his voice drew you out of the mental puzzle. You turned your head to find him looking directly at you, eyes still a bit groggy. “Hey.”
“...Hi.” You looked at him with wide eyes, certain you looked crazy. This was not how anything was supposed to go, and he needed to leave before Wooyoung got back to the apartment. If he hasn’t been back already…
“Uh, so I’m really–”
“I’m sorry Yeonjun, last night was a mistake.” You offered him a sympathetic smile, cutting him off. His mouth stayed open, lost for words, eyes widened in confusion. He was taken aback, not knowing quite how to respond. You lifted the covers, ignoring his lower half, and stood up quickly, trying to find a pair of shorts, pants, anything to cover your legs. 
“W-...It was?” He sat up and tilted his head to the side, looking vaguely like a lost puppy. You nodded your head with a tight-lipped smile.
“Yea, it’s just…I’m really not looking for anything right now. Mainly just focused on studies, you know?” You pulled out some sweatpants from a pile of clothes you had been meaning to fold. Gotta look for a shirt now.
“Right, right, me too.” His eyebrows creased as looked at you, shuffling around the room in search of something. You went to a drawer to pull out a plain black tee shirt and walked to your closet to change in.
“After I change I can go sit in the living room while you get dressed!” You said in a rushed manner from behind the door.
Yeonjun’s head was spinning. 
No one has ever kicked him out.
Mainly cause they were almost always at his place and he would gently push them out. But this time they were in your apartment, and you were pushing him out. It completely took him by surprise, especially calling last night a “mistake.”
You stepped out of the closet and walked over to the bed to hand him his shirt back. Nodding, you left the room and gently closed the door behind you, not bothering to look back for a second.
A bit down the hallway you could see Wooyoung’s door open, and you tip-toed over to it just in case he had come back and fallen asleep. Peeking your head through, your entire body felt a wave of relief from seeing his bed empty, his keys and wallet that he would usually have on his bedside table gone.
You padded your way to the kitchen, grabbed a glass, and filled it with water, letting your thoughts fly through your head while you sipped at it.
How could you have let that happen? Everyone is going to be talking about you now, and you’ll only be known as one of Yeonjun’s conquests. All eyes on you for the next week now, you’ll have to go to class, keep your head down, and immediately come back home. Maybe he won’t talk about it? He never usually talks about his rendezvous’...Unless he mentions it to his friends! Beomgyu and Kai talk quite a bit, what if–
The sound of your door opening lifted your head up to stare at the hallway that led into your kitchen and living room. You watched as Yeonjun trudged out in the clothes he had worn last night. His hair was a bit more tamed than the bedhead he had earlier. You set the glass down and took a few steps toward him, not completely knowing what to say.
“So…I have somewhere I have to be…in a few minutes…” You trailed off, hoping he’d pick up what you were implying. You still hadn’t quite figured out how to politely tell one-night stands to leave.
“Right yeah, I have to get going too, I was meeting Soobin for lunch.” He smiled, finally having somewhat composed himself while getting dressed. You nodded as your heart hammered in your chest, wanting to force him out the door before Woo did arrive and started telling everyone who was in his apartment last night. With your luck, he may be walking up to the door now.
You moved to unlock and open the door for him, peering your head outside to check for your roommate. Still gone. You didn’t bother to offer Yeonjun anything else, needing him to get out of the building. He stepped around you and out the door, and just before you closed it, he turned back around to you.
“I’ll see you later?” Something glimmered in his eyes as he said it. A warm, hopeful feeling in his chest emerged, something he hadn’t experienced in a while. Your eyes met him, eyebrows raised in surprise.
“Yeah, Yeonjun…I’ll definitely see you around.”
Do not repost or translate any of my work anywhere else.
All comments, reblogs, and likes are always welcome!
111 notes · View notes
distort-opia · 5 months
Text
You know what's funny. It's been like two years. I've had zero plans for it. I rationally and actively chose not to do it, taking into account very reasonable and realistic factors. But then I somehow stumble on the perfect title and I can't get a fucking sequel to REMS out of my brain.
It's this?? This that gets me?? The symmetry between having the Latin proverb "repetitio est mater studiorum" as a title for one work and its dark counterpart as a sequel, "perseverare diabolicum"... The implications of it all. The characters might have learned from repetition enough to break the cycle, but persevering in the same mistakes can have the opposite effect. Repetition can teach you, but repetition might entrench you in the same toxic patterns too, and it's up to you to break them or succumb to familiarity.
Also how fucking metal of a title is "perseverare diabolicum". GODDAMMIT.
28 notes · View notes
scarefox · 1 year
Text
People are really testing me today again. With basically everything about and around KP. Am currently watching a reaction and these people don’t get the VegasPete dynamic at all and why people could possibly like or even relate to them... Like there are either people who straight up hate them and be like “Oh no, this is romanticizing abusive relationships and stockholm syndrome” (at times they weren’t in a relationship yet + Pete does not have ss + ss is not even a real condition but merely an attempt of ‘pure normal’ people trying to grasp on how anyone could ever sympathise with a criminal). Well and then there is the other extreme side of people who do actually romanticize them and interpret everything VP do in a very naive and wrong kind of way.... hint: no they weren’t in love from the start, there was a slight interest that build at some point but not in a romantic way at first... it’s more a game of teasing and hidden sides of their personalities and desires. Which then later lead to realisations and change.
Yea I get these characters are complicated and probably not relatable or understandable to people who never had family trauma or difficult relationships with people you can’t just drop out of your life for whatever reason. I know this is the mentality nowadays to just cut everyone off who wronged you immediately. You do what is best for you. But that’s not an option for everyone nor does everyone give up on people they like and still see potential in. And that’s what VegasPete is all about: breaking out of the cycle and heal each other. Even though if it’s really a rather unrealistic fantasy, it’s fiction goddammit. (and I bet there are rare cases in rl where dysfunctional constellations got fixed if all sides were willing to work on it and Vegas is willing to do that)
Edit: and I forgot, they also all interpret Pete as this normal innocent guy even though he was literally introduced as morally grey character, head of the mafia bodyguards AND telling us and Vegas of his internal trauma as well. He can’t be judged by normal standards as well. Yea a normal non-criminal, non-broken person would surely not stay with Vegas. But Pete isn’t that person 🤷‍♂️
151 notes · View notes
obnoxioussmiley · 2 years
Text
Chocolates & Butterflies
Pairing: Jake Lockley X Reader
Warnings: female reader/reader that has a vagina and gets menstrual cramps, period talk aka blood and pms symptoms, reader is an emotional mess, Jake is a softie who knows you like the back of his hand <3
Summary: It’s that time of month and everything is going wrong. Jake makes things goes right.
Request:
Hey! Are you okay? I've had this request in my head for a while but I'm embarrassed to ask my favorite authors so here goes. Can I get one where the reader is having a bad day and is full of period cramps so when Jake gets home he just smiles at her and she completely breaks down? You can decide what happens next if you make this request. Anyway, have a great day, your work here is amazing! (Sorry about my terrible English)
Okay your English was PERFECT wdym??
Tumblr media
You woke up to an empty bed. This happened a lot when your boyfriend shared a body with two other alters, and you understood that. Usually it didn’t bother you, but today you woke up exceptionally sore and upset. You immediately recognized the feeling to be period cramps and you cursed yourself for not watching for your next cycle.
You had bled through your underwear, your pajama pants, and even onto the bed a little. So, despite how much you wanted to just fall back asleep, you dragged yourself out of bed. Just to trip on the blanket and catch yourself with your hands before you landed face first.
“Ugh,” You mumbled, still dazed from the recent sleep. You gathered up your stained bed sheets and brought them towards the laundry area so you could get them cleaned. After completely dousing them in cleaning detergent, you tossed them in the washing machine. You did the same to your dirty pants and started the cycle.
After getting a fresh pair of undies and bottoms, you went into the bathroom to get what you needed for your period, and set it up. Washing and drying your hands, you pulled the mirror back to reveal the medicine cabinet and grabbed the ibuprofen bottle. It was empty.
“Goddammit, Jake,” you sighed, throwing it in the trash, “Why do you do this?” You grabbed your phone and shot him a text to buy more when he’s on his way back home.
In the kitchen, you grabbed a mug and filled it up with milk and hot cocoa mix, stirring it and placing it in the microwave to heat up. It beeped and you reached for your mug, only to hiss in pain and pull it back as it was hot to the touch.
You folded a paper towel and grabbed the mug with it, placing it on the counter top and leaning against it. You rested your head on one of your hands, elbow propped on the granite. You were miserable. Taking a sip of your hot cocoa, you stood against the counter brewing over this shitty morning, when the front door opened.
Jake had just walked through and closed the door behind him. He looked over to meet your eyes and smiled. Holding up a pharmacy bag, he grinned at you, “Hey, gorgeous, I’ve got your pills and some extra goodies.”
The surge of love you felt from seeing him clashed against the horrible depressing moods in your head, and before you knew it you were crying. A hiccup escaped and Jake’s smile dropped instantly. Walking over, he placed the bag down and put his hands on your head, “Hey, hey, it’s alright, what’s the matter?”
You shook your head, letting out a pathetic laugh at yourself, “Nothing, I just-” Another sob forced its way out and Jake wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.
“You’re okay, I got you,” He rubbed your back with one head and brought the other up to your head, running his hand through your hair.
It took a while just standing like that, but you slowly calmed down, “I’m sorry, I’m just having a shitty morning.”
He hummed, “Don’t be sorry. Things happen.” He pulled back to get a good look at your face, “Why don’t we have a nice relaxing rest of the day to make up for it?”
You nodded and he smiled, grabbing the bag off the counter and laying the contents out. A new bottle of ibuprofen, some chocolate bars, a rental movie, and one of those microwaveable heating pad bag things.
While entirely grateful, you shot him a confused look, “I only asked for ibuprofen, how did you know to get the rest of this?”
He shrugged, “You were complaining about your back hurting yesterday, and when I got up today I saw you were breaking out a bit.” He moved to put the heating pad in the microwave for a few minutes while you downed the ibuprofen. “I know those are some of your tells,” He said casually, like it wasn’t a big deal.
Even after being together for awhile, he still found ways to make your stomach do flips. You stared at him with so much adoration as he started to make you a fresh cup of cocoa.
Jake was a tough guy, never afraid to get his hands dirty or start a fight. And he wasn’t the best at showing his emotions and affection. But he always managed to pull through at the best moments, where you really needed him to.
You didn’t notice when he looked back up to see you staring so deeply. “Sweetheart, you good?”
You blinked, “Yeah, I’m good.” You smiled, “I love you.”
His face softened and one of those rare, giddy smiles appeared. “Oh, c’mere,” He said, walking over and suddenly picking you up. You laughed out in surprise and held on while he carried you back over to the bed, placing you down with a flop. He pulled you into him and you rested your head in his chest. “I love you too.”
yo if you know the correct word for those microwaveable heating pad bag things, PLEASE let me know I’m so lost
taglist:
@milkiane
289 notes · View notes
tobiasdrake · 3 months
Text
On a quest for primal forces concentrated into music. What the fuck is my job description?
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I saw these things when I was in the past. So that's what they are. They're. Like. Time Spotlights creating a window into the past. For platforming.
Tumblr media
What the hell is that? Is it like a laser barrier to stop me from going that way?
Only one way to find out. When in doubt, ram your face into things. That's how you get Bestie Time.
Tumblr media
...or it's a time portal. Valuable tool to facilitate an adventure across time and space? Or a useful mechanism to avoid needing to re-render every area in 16-bit? Two things can be true.
Tumblr media
Oh, never mind. There are casual portals to flippy-floppy everything whenever you want. Huh.
Tumblr media
With dramatic effects on the landscape, at that.
This is going to be a trippy adventure.
Tumblr media
YOU GUYS WERE ALIVE THIS WHOLE TIME!?
I mean, I knew you were, but I thought the other ninjas were all killed in the firebombing.
Tumblr media
That sounds like a fuck-up on your part. You had... Ambiguous Many Years to teach me everything I knew and prepare me for this adventure. Don't let my poor attentiveness in class be an excuse for your teaching failures.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Is it as cosmic as it sounds, or is that just a brand name? Because if it's as mind-bending as properly ground up Time Shards then I will stab people for it.
I'll stab that guy over there. The one by the door. He's always rubbed me the wrong way. I mean, look at him. Standing out of formation just so he can be closer to the master. Fucking teacher's pet.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Funny that, I might have a solution!
We grind the seed up and make coffee out of it. ^_^ Oh, fine, I'll use time travel instead.
Tumblr media
It needs DIRT. Why can't I plant it in the DIRT. We could put it right fucking here in front of the training hall. Then it's just a hop, skip, and a jump to the future where demonic forces have once again burned to ash every single thing in the regi--
...
I'll go find a flowerbed.
Tumblr media
Just gonna throw this out there but if I were a flowerbed, the Forlorn Temple is probably where I'd be.
Never did manage to get inside that place. Shopkeeper/Archer just laughed at me over it. I should make a point to go raid that place when I get a chance.
Allegedly the Demon King lives there. But. Like. Then what's the fucking point of the Underworld? There's a non-zero chance the Forlorn Temple is, like, a cardboard pop-up of a castle just to inspire Messengers to make bad choices.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
So these are the notes. Finding all of these notes is going to be the key to breaking the curse, allegedly.
And this one's made of... crystallized hope? Ugh, this really does have Immortal Alchemist written all over it.
So survivors have well-wished Messengers off on their journey so many times over loop after loop after loop after loop that their hopes have crystallized into a physical object.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
This one's been haunting me. It's been bothering me since my very first Power Seal. There was clearly a passage into the ground behind destructible rocks, but I didn't have the ability to strike downwards at them.
Things are different now. I'm different. I'm stronger. Faster. This time, I'm no fresh-from-the-village rookie, dashing along with a sparkle in his eye.
Tumblr media
This time, I soar.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
.........
Tumblr media
Shut up, I'm different now. T-T I am a big boy ninja who glides like a falcon illuminated by a moonbeam. Shut up, I am!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
So. I guess. Since we're hoping to break the cycle for realsies, we don't need the Cabinet of Broken Dreams anymore.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
...but I want to know now--
OH GODDAMMIT This is "Don't touch my cabinet" all over again. Fuck you. I don't even care what landfill your stupid cabinet is rotting in. It's no skin off my back if I never see it again!
...which is why you should tell me, so I can show you how aggressively I don't care!
5 notes · View notes
songs for the cycle-breaker
i also think i've taken a different approach to this playlist in that i've focused on just late s3 zuko breaking free from his family. this playlist has much less of an arc than he does.
the thing about putting together a zuko playlist for me is that i am not emo and i don't believe in putting showtunes on character playlists bc they are already About characters. so this playlist is not super reflective of what i think zuko would listen to and is also pretty different from most of the zuko playlists out there which ARE full of emo bands/popular tiktok music. nothing wrong with that but it's not me.
1. dynasty - rina sawayama
i'm a dynasty / the pain in my veins is hereditary / and if that's all i'm gonna be /would you break the chain with me?
perfect song for the cycle-breaker of a royal family. i've seen this song on azula playlists and like. what chain do you think she's breaking exactly. the whole tragedy of her character is that she doesn't get free.
2. walk this way - mø
there is a light for you, burning for you / oh my mama said "it is burning for you"
zuko is, of course, a mama's boy.
3. take the journey - molly tuttle
take the journey / someday you'll make it back home again
pretty straightforward tbh. i like to imagine the lines "take the hand of the one beside you / let the fire guide you" as being about him & aang meeting the dragons.
4. relay - fiona apple
evil is a relay sport when the one who's burned turns to pass the torch
if this lyric were shorter i'd have made it the title. if this song had a more conventional song structure i'd have made a full fanvid instead just a little snippet. there is no better summary of zuko than this line.
5. altar wine - david keenan
there was once a man who loved me / he was older, he left this scar / and a book about an angel / that made her way back home to god / i still think about him sometimes / running my finger up its spine / may he fall into a well / he left me old before my time
yeah this song is heavily christian, but the characters in this song - the sighing mother the narrator identifies with, the older man who left a scar, the girl who sets fire to the curtains - feel very fire nation royal family. the fact that the older man gives him a book about an angel who made her way back home to god also feels similar to how zuko was expected to redeem himself and find his way home.
also, the singer just sounds fucking anguished, and literally screams near the end, which is pretty zuko imo.
6. black sun - irma
hold back, hold back, can't you see / how harmful all this can be / this ain't no place to call a home
amazingly, a perfect song for zuko's speech to ozai on the day of black sun.
7. shivers - JOSEPH
i strike my own light / even if it's not quite as bright
zuko decides to leave and strike out on his own.
8. grave digger - matt maeson
goddammit, i cannot bend / i'm all shriveled inside
a recommendation from the write-in question on this uquiz i made, one that i got a LOT, and okay yeah sometimes the majority opinion is correct. it's about deciding to leave behind your toxic family, and it's also easy to read "bend" in this line to refer to firebending. you win this one, zuko fans.
9. fear and loathing - marina
don't wanna live in fear and loathing / i want to feel like i'm floating / instead of constantly exploding
about how he had to find a new drive for his bending after he left, find something besides anger and fear to fuel him.
10. white teeth teens - lorde
and everything works out so good / i wear the robe like no one could
zuko being crowned fire lord at the end despite never thinking he was one of the cool kids worthy of status and power.
12. heirloom - sleeping at last
you are so much more than your father's son / you are so much more than what i've become
iroh to zuko <3
13. a burning hill - mitski
the title track. like all our angsty firebenders, he's been a perpetrator of the fire nation's brutality, its victim, and a witness to it. zuko 🤝 azula 🤝 jeong jeong - this song.
11 notes · View notes
sp1resong · 9 months
Text
goddammit. i have been experiencing. A Bug
basically uhh. sometimes, when i save or die, the exit/continue/karma change screen Doesn't Appear, so it just shows me sleeping or my dead body infinitely. the game saves, but i can't hit continue (or exit, i think it thinks i'm in the cutscene?) so i have to go out into Steam and close and reboot the game manually to enter the next cycle.
it seems to vary by region, also--when i go through a karma gate, it usually starts working again, but if i leave the region it breaks again? or alternately it breaks halfway through the region.
it's probably something to do with my Many mods tbh, but i've ruled out my top suspect along with those i remember installing/enabling around the time it obviously started so idk
if anyone has advice it is deeply appreciated
2 notes · View notes
luckyredeyes · 1 year
Text
Goddammit. I swear we’re not a lost cause, my southern swing state. Please don’t write us off, we’re trying so hard to break these stupid old cycles.
4 notes · View notes
ghostlyhamburger · 1 year
Text
Husband Plays Miraculous: Rise of the Sphinx
[[Just beat Mr. Pigeon tutorial]]
We get to see Fu in Glorious PS2 detail!
This feels like a Google Translate job
Why are her shoes flesh colored
oh no
look at that graphical detail
Why can I switch to Adrien here?
It’s like they tried to do the thing that visual novels do where they have the different art but they just used a 3d model at a bad angle
They started Chat Noir weaker so we could buy a point.
What do the macarons do??
This is a game.
The music’s pretty good, at least
I call shenanigans. I also call plot.
Really? Referencing that stupid fucking episode?
This game does not let me have full camera control
Gonna replay this
[[Wait you just walk behind the thing and transform to replay it?]] yes.
Where the heck are these other macarons
I need more traversal methods
Adrien’s hair is too short in this game.
What happens if I talk to Master Fu as Adrien? I can still shop OK
oh goddammit heroes is with a z
I have no idea what ability is supposed to do. but now I have counter attack?
What is with those sound effects?
She has to rotate in, wave, and rotate out before I get control. I’m gonna talk to Chloe as Marinette.
Why does Chloe look good?
This is just a visual novel.
When did we teleport?
Why can’t I just enter the building?
Why doesn’t Marinette just keep her scrapbook with her? Why isn’t that just part of the pause menu?
I can’t leave. I’m stuck in this tree.
I did it again. I have done it again. I am part of the tree.
Oh I figured out how to do it with Adrien!
They didn’t make this picnic as solid objects. it’s part of the floor.
I have breadfoot. it is a serious condition. Do not laugh.
Tumblr media
oh you HAVE to cross the street at the crosswalk
oh god textures. please pop in
um it’s in widescreen now
oh I can’t go see those people since there’s no crosswalk here.
how
I bet I cannot enter the hotel.
Oh. I could enter the hotel. I was expecting to have to click an interact button or something
This run cycle does not feel good. It should be faster for how lanky these characters are. On the plus side, hair physics.
Bullshit. Marinette never believes Lila. That is not proper characterization. Also why are Marinette’s tits bigger and why does Tikki look so high
Marinette looks good in this game. Adrien looks like Felix dressing up as Adrien.
This does not feel like the game they wanted to make.
Secret endings??
I don’t understand.
I need a break.
This is gonna be a multiple session type game.
4 notes · View notes
ragsy · 2 years
Text
We had some incredible character developments in our dogman motw plot last night and I can't even BEGIN to articulate it, fuck!!! Breaking cycles of violence and holding people accountable for their shitty coping mechanisms and encouraging self improvement because goddammit you owe it to yourself!!! And slaying monsters of course. Collaborative storytelling baby!!!!
3 notes · View notes
apenapaperandadoofus · 5 months
Text
Whats up guess what i go into JJK and have been crying non-stop so enjoy
Here’s on AO3
And if you’re too lazy for that (pls don’t, kudos give me serotonin) here’s the fic:
Only One (Gojo x Geto) yes it do be a cheesy title I suck at them ahdbdbd
I can feel the blood dripping from my side and leaving a deep, red mark on my clothes.
It feels as if my legs are about to give in…I can’t really go on anymore but…I need to stay a bit longer. After all…
You aren’t here yet.
…Late as always.
I feel a gentle breeze brush through my hair. I can hear children laughing, people talking, unaware of the chaos they have brought upon the word.
Are they truly here or have I started to hallucinate?
I hate them all. I hate this world.
Everything about it disgusts me, and why wouldn’t it?
Selfish, greedy people inhabit this earth. It’s because of them so many of our friends have died.
So many sacrifices- and for what? For nothing to change? For curses to still roam around this shitty place?
Is it truly surprising that hate would eventually make its way into my heart, envelop me, embrace my body just the way your arms used to do all those nights before?
Is it really so surprising that I chose to leave, after everything that happened after all the death and suffering in vain- that I chose to break the hideous cycle that was helping those who didn’t deserve helping, those who caused all the chaos in this world?
Would you truly blame me, if you were able to feel the way I do?
I know why I chose this path- and I knew the moment I left there would be no going back.
That day I tried so hard to keep my gaze forward, trying my best to not look back at you because I knew, I knew, if I did, I wouldn’t have been able to leave you.
Three words from you and I’d go back. Just those three little words and I would have run back to your arms. I would have dropped everything just for you.
But you didn’t say anything.
Why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you try to stop me, why didn’t you reach out for me, why didn’t you hold me and tell me you would stay by my side, that it would be alright.
I wonder what kind of face you were making at that moment, having to choose between me and the world.
I don’t know why I felt surprised you chose me.
You did always say you’d burn it all for me.
Is it selfish to wish that you still think of me?
To wish that every night you reach out to the side of your bed and feel your heart drop as the only thing that your hands touch is the coldness of the mattress? To wish that you think of me, that you yearn for me as much as I yearn for you?
Is it selfish for me to hope that you cry yourself to sleep every night? Is it selfish for me to hope that our choices left you as broken as me?
That every time you look up to the stars you remember all those nights we’d sneak out and make up our own constellations, coming up with the stupidest names just to see who could make each other laugh the hardest.
Is it selfish to still have that ugly shirt I stole from your closet and never gave back? That every time I think of you, I hug it close to my heart so I can feel as if you’re in the room next to me?
Is it selfish that I want you to hate me- yet I also want you to suffer as much as I do because of how much I love you?
Is it so wrong of me to wish that you miss my touch as much as I do yours?
People say love is the most beautiful thing in the world.
Then tell me, why is it that our love is destroying me from the inside out.
Tell me, why is it that our love is one that only fills my heart up with pain and longing.
Why does our love have to hurt so much that it makes me want to tear my heart out; yet I don’t because I know that the moment I do that I’d stop loving you and goddammit am I not ready to let go of that yet.
Why, why does our love have to be the one that kills us in the end?
Why can’t I just stop, stop missing you, stop seeing you, stop feeling you, stop thinking about you because of every damn thing.
The anger and yearning I feel for you drives me mad- they say that love and hate are opposites but are they really?
One cannot exist without the other- love cannot exist without hate, happiness cannot exist without sadness, light cannot exist without the dark.
I cannot exist without you.
….
The sun is setting.
And there you are.
But…why are you staring at me like that? Why do you still look at me like I’m someone precious, like you love-
Why!?
Why aren’t you looking at me like you despise me?
Why do you still care about me?
You should at least curse me out.
But you don’t.
You crouch down and reach for my hand, and oh, how long has it been since I’ve felt your skin against mine?
How can it be that just one small touch makes my heart skip a beat, make the pain disappear.
How can you make everything better by just being near me?
And then you smile, and fuck, why can’t I go back, why can’t I take it all back, why did I choose this, why did I choose all this over us?
Why didn’t you call out for me, why didn’t you try and help me, why didn’t you love me harder, why didn’t you love me enough to make me see the good in the world again, why did you let me leave?!
Why couldn’t you love me as much as I loved you?
I try to move my hand away- but then you grip them tighter and point up at stars that have begun to appear in the sky.
You say it looks like those betta fish we saw in the aquarium all those years ago. And the ones to the right look like our dragon. And those small ones to the left all look like smiling faces.
We both know you’re just trying to buy us time.
But I don’t stop you.
I missed you. I want to stay here, holding you and never letting you go…
But how long are we going to keep this charade up? How much longer are you going to try and salvage the unsalvageable?
You call out my name.
Suddenly it feels as if time has become frozen. It’s just the two of us now.
You keep smiling, but why are your eyes filled with so much sadness? Why is it that, as much as I hate it, a part of me feels happy you care enough to shed tears for me?
And then you say it.
Those three little words.
You truly are a despicable man. Do you realize the hold you have over me?
I place your hand on my heart.
Can you feel the way it beats just for you? How all this time you were the one thing that kept it beating. It’s all yours. I am all yours.
Maybe in another life it wouldn’t have ended like this.
But is there really a place on this earth for two people that would give up everything for each other? For people that love so hard, that they’re willing to destroy everything around them just to hold each other again?
I don’t think there is. At least not here...
Please…don’t cry for me. Don’t miss me. Don’t yearn for me.
Please fix my mistakes.
And as selfish as it may be, please keep living for me….
I’m glad the one to end it was you.
You’re my beginning and my ending. My reason to be.
My one and only….
….
I can see the stars shining brightly above us.
I’m glad I could see them one last time with you.
0 notes
rynnaaurelius · 2 years
Note
Goddammit im so hapoy to have found you, a Luke apologist. I jaut got sucked back into the whole fandom bc of the upcoming series and... i read the original books when i was really young, right, 11,12,13. And yea, Luke was the bad guy!!
But now im actually Luke age. And i know how young everyone actually is. If you put me in charge of a bunch of 12-15 year olds and made me watch them die one after the other; i'd probably side with the side that's AGAINST those making this happen too???
Idk his stance is just so so so understandable. I'm studying to become a teacher rn and being responsible for big groups of young kids - it feels a certain way. It's like... motherly instincts, but not really, but kinda, but definetly extreme protectiveness.
Now did he make some bad choices along the way blablabla, sure yea. But holy hell his position is understandable.
ESPECIALLY! Knowing about New Rome and that alternatives are a possibility, actually, the greeks just aren't getting them??? Nah i'd definetly try and murder all the gods. Viciously.
I don't really know where i'm going with this except that i was scrolling through the Luke tag and one of your posts was like a breath of fresh air in between all the, mostly pretty young, fans that hate on him and everything he every did. So thanks, i guess?
Goddamn, I somehow never got an email for this, so I had no idea this was collecting dust in my inbox. Sorry about that.
Also, you left me rambling, so. . .sorry about that.
And yes. I am more or less the same age Luke was during the series, and I can't imagine the number it would do on you to be responsible for prepping a bunch of preteens and teenagers to face their violent deaths, especially after what he went through with his mother and Thalia.
I left it in the tags of the post that went viral against my will, but Luke's living out a different genre from Percy and company, and I—I would lose my shit, too, if in his position. That's torturous, dystopian shit.
They're kids, damn it.
(And I have. . .many headcanons about Luke Castellan and Camp Jupiter and Greek demigod life expectancies. Most of them not good, all of them trying to square the worldbuilding)
And I find it so difficult to believe that it's a bad person—and not simply a very angry and hurt person—who sets out to do really questionable things to try and keep another kids from suffering and dying, to prevent anyone else from becoming himself.
There's a certain despair through it and Luke's choices; I really, really have my doubts over whether Luke genuinely believed that he would survive the war, either way.
Raging against the dying of the light and all that. He knows he will likely fail, he knows he's propping up a monster, and he's doing it anyway in this desperate attempt to create something different.
This makes Percy so important because he still thinks that as family and as people, the gods can change—just look at his conversation with Hermes at the end of TLO.
There's a faith he very understandably keeps (Poseidon is, by godly standards, a good dad who tries and that's important), a faith that Luke, in turn, has understandably lost and we see Hermes's grief and regret over that loss.
Luke's last change in heart, his choice to believe in Percy, in how to break this cycle of violence and abuse that's been eating demigods alive, is beautiful and kills me every time.
(Requisite note that this final choice takes on a different timbre considering the events of HoO)
He's lost everything—his mother, Thalia, Annabeth, any semblance of a home he ever had. Which is how I think he justifies Kronos, ultimately, I think. He's lost any hope he has, for himself or otherwise, and is intent on making the gods pay for what they've done.
Like every other tragic hero, he penned his own tragedy, knowing what was going to happen the whole time, which kills me.
He walks into his own end and, at the end, finds that last thing at the bottom of Pandora's jar—Hope.
55 notes · View notes