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penguwastaken · 1 month

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About Brainwashing in Danganronpa

Hello to all 3 of the people who see this account. A few months ago, I made a thread on hit website Twitter dot com about brainwashing in the Danganronpa Series. I discussed where it came from, how it works, and how the brainwashing of class 77-B was never a retcon. The thread got a lot of attention there, even getting a "debunk" on other hit website Reddit dot com (lmao). Due to that, there's been a lot of responses and questions. Since I can't really update a Twitter thread, I decided that I'd make the Ultimate™ Brainwashing thread and hopefully dispel any information on the subject while making my original points more clear and covering things I failed to cover. So here it is: Brainwashing in Danganronpa, how it works, where it came from, and how it was intended from the start. (a 🧵 except not really) *Massive spoilers for Danganronpa Zero, Danganronpa 2, Danganronpa Another Episode, Danganronpa Togami, and Danganronpa 3, as well as the series as a whole*

Danganronpa Zero: First Sighting

Brainwashing has its roots all the way back in the second official entry produced in the series, Danganronpa Zero. During the story's events, Ryoko comes across a secret cult made up of students from the reserve course. They're seen staring at a strange video, seemingly turning them and turn them into mindless zombies.

The video depicts members of the student council killing each other. Ryoko is stunned while watching it. She can barely look away, but eventually through force of will she does. This same video is later used to convince the reserve course to rebel.

The way it's described to work is that it uses their “pent-up emotions,” implying that their emotions played a role in its effectiveness. It's also worth noting that the novel itself refers to what is happening as brainwashing, making this objectively the first depiction of brainwashing in the series right from the second entry.

Danganronpa 2: Now it Gets Dubious

Our next instance of brainwashing comes from Danganronpa 2. The concept is brought up multiple times, such as when Makoto states that the Ultimate Despairs were brainwashed or how the Neo World Program is good at treating brainwashing, though the details of what brainwashing actually means in this context are kept vague.

It's also worth noting that Danganronpa 2 was being written around the same time as Danganronpa Zero and Kodaka wanted concepts from the novel to appear in Danganronpa 2, likely so readers would feel validated. This is why things like Izuru Kamukura and the reserve course play huge roles in Danganronpa 2, it's not too much of a stretch to say that the same applies with brainwashing. One detail we’re given about the brainwashing is from Monokuma, who states the Ultimate Despairs were brainwashed by Junko taking advantage of their feelings. Specifically love, hate, grudges, and "anything really". If that sounds familiar, it’s because that’s exactly how the brainwashing video from Danganronpa Zero was described to function, using their pent-up emotions.

I should mention that Monokuma and Junko are known for being unreliable narrators who often stretch the truth, exaggerate things, and use hyperbole to manipulate people into believing their narrative. Monokuma describes the Ultimate Despairs as “nothing more than Junko’s limbs”, which contradicts the existence of characters like Nagito. Who, while in his despair state, did not work with Junko nor did he look up to her (at least in the normal sense like the other Ultimate Despairs). In fact, it would have been impossible for them to really obey any of Junko's orders as Ultimate Despairs because Junko was trapped inside of Hope's Peak with minimal connection to the outside world. This isn't a definitive "Monokuma is lying" statement, but just note that his word isn't 100% reliable. Meanwhile, someone like Makoto who outright mentions brainwashing, is a much more reliable source.

Danganronpa Another Episode: More Brainwashing! (kinda irrelevant tho...)

The next time brainwashing is used is in the next entry, Danganronpa Another Episode. Though its purpose in this discussion isn’t the most useful, as the brainwashing is caused by Monokuma helmets, which don’t have their functionality explained. I figured it was worth mentioning and describing at least, as its another example of brainwashing at least.

I did figure it was worth adding how the brainwashed children act. They obey the Warriors of Hope’s every command, as if they have zero control over their actions. This is different from how the Ultimate Despairs act, who still some free had free will after presumably being brainwashed judging by the actions of Nagito, who is also in this game.

Danganronpa Togami: I Hate My Life

Okay. As mixed as my opinions are on this novel trilogy, it does feature brainwashing. In fact, it might feature one of the most detailed and important descriptions of brainwashing in the series, and even outright CONFIRMS that class 77-B were brainwashed (sorta).

"Hey um... Tumblr/Twitter user Pengu... what do you mean by 'sorta'?" Well my uninformed reader who I guarantee has probably never read this book, there's a twist. I regret to inform you that the canonicity of Danganronpa Togami is rather questionable, as it depicts an extremely unreliable narrator’s warped viewing of events due to this thing called the K2K system, which means not everything in the novel is meant to be taken literally or at face value.

This doesn't mean that everything should be discarded or immediately dismissed however. This just means that we have to use our brains a little and decipher what the hell Yuya Sato was cooking when he wrote this novel trilogy. In the novel, we discover the existence of the elusive despair novel. When read, the novel will turn the reader to despair and inflict them with the despair disease. This novel is what's used to plummet the world into despair, as well as being what caused the class 77-B to become the Ultimate Despairs. There's no known ways to avoid it, once you read it, it's joever. 😔

As I said earlier, the events of Danganronpa Togami can’t be taken literally. Due to this and prior context, we can safely assume that the despair novel is most likely the K2K's warped idea of the despair video from Danganronpa Zero. Instead of being a book being read that brainwashed people, it was a video being watched. What makes me so sure? Well let's look over the similarities. The way the despair novel works is that it uses cruel words to overload the reader with negative emotions, causing them to snap and turn to despair. That sounds almost exactly like the despair video, overloading the viewer by manipulating their emotions until they turn to despair. This connection's a little bit of a stretch but I'll bring it up anyways. The technology used in the despair novels was originally to bring hope. (Take notes, it will probably be important assuming you buy this connection.)

Essentially, the despair novel works the exact same way as the despair video, but instead it’s a book and you read it instead of watching it. This means that class 77-B and the rest of the world were most likely brainwashed via the despair video, and that is what caused the class to become Ultimate Despairs.

Danganronpa 3: The One People Really Don't Like

And all of this brings us to the most detailed yet controversial usage of brainwashing: Danganronpa 3. Many assume that the anime’s usage of brainwashing is a retcon, contradicting the words of our holy savior Super Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair High School. However, I’d like to debate that. In fact, I'd like to finally put a nail in the coffin of this really stupid debate and finally show you that Danganronpa 3's depiction of brainwashing is exactly how it has always been described.

In Danganronpa 3, we are introduced to Ryota Mitarai and his anime. Using the power of subliminal messaging, it heightens the viewer's emotions and makes them more powerful. What was once a slightly emotional scene is now a complete tearjerker fully capable of tearing at the viewers heart strings! While he acknowledges that there are unethical things that can be done with this technology and it's technically brainwashing, his goal is to use this technology to make the world a better place, even if it can be dangerous. If that sounds familiar, that's because it's what Hope's Peak tried doing with the despair novel in Danganronpa Togami. Though I'll admit, this single point is a little bit of a stretch as there are differences. I just figured it was worth at least a mention.

Using her analytical prowess, Junko gets a rough understanding of how the technology works, so she develops the despair video, featuring the student council killing each other overlayed with subliminal messaging technology to make the despair felt while viewing the video stronger.

The video works on Mikan, however Junko fears that the video may not be powerful enough to fully go through with her plans due to not understanding the technology nearly as well as Ryota does. Because of this, she forces Ryota to create a better, more powerful despair video. A despair video v2 if you will. Junko’s fears weren’t unfounded, as we discover that Chisa had the mental fortitude to resist the despair video, similarly to how Ryoko was able to resist the same video in Danganronpa Zero. This is exactly why Junko needs a more powerful video, one that she knows can’t be resisted.

"Ermmmm, Tumblr/Twitter user Pengu, how come Ryoko and Chisa are able to resist the despair video but Mikan and nobody in the reserve course could?" Good question, the answer is pretty simple. As mentioned before, the video takes advantage of the emotions of the viewer. Mikan is already pretty weak minded, so there wasn't much issue in controlling her. The reserve course already hated Hope's Peak and would take any reason to hate them more, so a video that shows them the sins of Hope's Peak would affect them as well. Ryoko and Chisa have no connection to the reserve course however, and neither are particularly very weak emotionally. Ryoko has the analytical prowess of Junko and Chisa is just a very strong willed person in general, and paired with Junko's lack of knowledge about subliminal messaging when creating the video, it's pretty obvious it wouldn't be that effective on them. All the more reason for Junko to force Ryota to make a better despair video.

The despair video v2 that Ryota is forced to make comes in the form of Chiaki’s execution video, where the stronger subliminal messages paired with witnessing the representation of the happiest moments in their miserable lives and their closest friend suffer makes class 77-B unable to resist. Ultimately this causes them to finally snap, being overloaded with despair, and now they turn into the Ultimate Despairs. (side note this is so freaking cool idc what anyone else says)

This resembles Monokuma’s explanation from Danganronpa 2. Junko used class 77-B’s emotions and years of getting closer against them to turn them to them to despair. Now featuring the added context of her using the video designed to manipulate people’s emotions. This depiction of brainwashing fits perfectly with the information provided throughout the series, even down to the little details. It’s so close in fact that I can say without a doubt that Danganronpa 3 did not retcon anything. “But Tumblr/Twitter user Pengu, that isn’t how the video is shown to work during Hope Arc. Therefore it actually contradicts previous entries and is inconsistent!" To that I say, you’re correct! ...at least about the hope video functioning differently, but that doesn’t make it inconsistent. The hope video behaves pretty differently. Instead of overloading the viewer with negative feelings, it simply just shows them a repeating video loop that turns them into a mindless zombie, likely caused by even stronger subliminal messaging. The people affected can also snap out of this state with some time, as seen with Aoi.

The reasoning for this is actually pretty simple, it’s just different technology entirely. It’s stated that the hope video was developed later on after the despair video. If anything, it behaves very similar to the Monokuma masks from Danganronpa Another Episode, which we also already established uses different technology. The hope video doesn’t contradict the despair video at all because they both use completely different tech. This can also be seen with how the despair video uses subliminal messaging, meanwhile the messaging in the hope video couldn’t be further from subliminal. There is no inconsistency, just two different things.

The reason the hope video needed to be broadcasted everywhere was so that since it would be airing everywhere, nobody would have time for the effects to wear off or resist it. This would turn the world into mindless zombies who obey every command, similarly to the Monokuma kids. It's just that now they don't have to force bulky helmets onto everyone.

Debunking Common Arguments

With the hope video out of the way, I think it’s very safe to assume that not only is the despair video’s functionality very accurate to previous descriptions, it’s also always been the reason for the brainwashing of Class 77-B, long before Danganronpa 3. Even if you disagree and think the cause of brainwashing was never explicitly mentioned in Danganronpa 2, there's still the fact that Danganronpa 2 outright says it was brainwashing. So even if a video wasn't the direct cause of it, them being brainwashed was still always intended (though given the context, I'm certain that the video was always the culprit). Many point to this line where Kazuichi asks why they became the Ultimate Despairs and Makoto says he never got an answer to debunk this. But... this doesn't change anything. He asks why they became Ultimate Despairs, not how. And this is completely ignoring the fact that Makoto clearly has done his own digging into the situation, he discovered the Remnants of Despair were hiding among Future Foundation after all. The Future Foundation had access to brainwashing videos, they found them, so of course Makoto is going to know about the brainwashing. But that's not what he's asking about, he's asking about the why. That's what he doesn't know.

Many also point to Mikan stating that it was her many human relationships that led her to being the way she is. Once again, this changes literally nothing. Mikan was the only one of the remnants who actually knew Junko, she was the only one who spent time with her because she was the first subject. This is why she gets more attached to her, and even why she'd believe what Junko would tell her when they spent time together. Monokuma also says that Junko used "hopeless methods overflowing with charisma and humor" to control the masses. I don't even know why I have to address this, but this statement is so vague you can interpret it as a million things. Like for example, this is how she got Ryota to work for her. While pretending to be Makoto to manipulate the people in the trial, Junko tells them that they all became Ultimate Despairs while coming into contact with her at Hope's Peak and they were subjected by her terrifying influence. Again, ignoring how vague "terrifying influence" is, this is literally Junko trying to LIE AND MANIPULATE them. This is quite possibly the worst example you could have used because we know for a fact that she is lying to them while pretending to be Makoto. There's other examples of Junko trying to manipulate them, like mentioning how everyone hated them and their all Ultimate Despairs at the end of the day. But that's just what this is, manipulation. You would think that the "Junko manipulated class 77-B" crowd would understand that saying "everyone hates you but I saw your potential" is literally manipulation 101. Some say that the brainwashing turned them into mindless zombies and eliminates all blame from their actions. While I would agree that it does make them less at fault, they still have the ability to make choices and still have free will. Their original personalities haven't been overwritten, their brains were just rewired to crave despair. They're still each their individual person with their own ways of feeling despair, and characters like Chisa and Nagito show that they regain their free will to an extent.

Conclusion and Final Thoughts

This whole debate stems from people misunderstanding Monokuma’s words and going along with the popular interpretation, which turned out to be wrong. Whether you like the use of brainwashing or not, it objectively isn’t a retcon as it's been developed ever since Danganronpa Zero. Personally, I love the use of brainwashing. I think the way it's developed throughout the series and its usage in Danganronpa 3 is super interesting. If you disagree, that's fine! Heck, if you choose to headcanon that Junko manipulated 15 individual teenagers into all becoming despair hungry terrorists capable but ending the world and fighting off every military in the world in less than a year, that's cool too! But the truth is, Danganronpa 3's brainwashing is canon and it's also not a retcon nor does it contradict anything. Contrary to popular belief, Kodaka was involved with the writing of the anime. He provided a large draft and outline of the plot and oversaw its development. He produced the anime, he did his homework, he knew what he was doing. I'm sure if Kodaka intended for them to all be manipulated one by one, that's what he would have went with. All information implying that it was manipulation is very few and far between and questionable at best, not to mention outweighed by everything implying it was brainwashing. Mind manipulation stuff is not new in this series, its been around since the first game and brainwashing was established in literally the second entry ever produced. Whether you love it or hate it, think it's the best thing since sliced bread or the death of the series, brainwashing was the answer the whole time. Some people just never noticed it, and instead of acknowledging that they were wrong, they stuck with a headcanon that they believed so much and jumped to the conclusion of "retcon". I hope this mega post managed to inform some people, maybe change some minds too. If you still don't buy it, then I guess there's nothing I can do. Thanks for reading all of this though, I tend to yap a lot about this franchise lmao.

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lizzaneia-elizalde · 5 months

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Seeing as you opened and I love your writing, how about a yandere bully? His beloved is not his target but rather harasses those who get close to her.....Am I even making sense?I let you do it however you want anyway.

Yandere! Male! Bully x Fem! Nerd! Reader

Time to bring back the old bully x nerd archetype. But this time, it's not as painful to write since the bullying is not targeted to the reader.

I am a victim of bully = being liked mindset. I hated that part of my life lol

One song is stuck in my head when I was writing this though. dumb dumb by mazie. So I guess I made darling a bit arrogant too lol.

I think I need to do a TW for this one. I know I usually don't do TW's since it's understandable that my blog is filled with yandere men, but this time, I need to do one.

TW: Bullying, harassment of PWDs, mentions of suicide. Uno is genuinely an upsetting character for some people, so do be warned.

Yan! Bully name: Uno

He's always the greatest.

Who?

Of course, Uno.

Just like his name, he was destined to be number 1. Nobody can stop the indominable spirit that is Uno.

It's always Uno, Uno, Uno.

GOD YOU WERE TIRED OF HEARING HIS NAME!

Why do people like an asshat like him? He's so arrogant, rude, and only thinks of himself. He belittles people who are of "lower status" than him, and sometimes, when he felt like it, he would physically fight them.

Uno's also someone with a silver spoon shoved in his mouth. His family, well known in the sports community, sponsors athletes. Investing in them greatly. And usually, these sponsored athletes end up successful. And those who did not end up successful, still brought enough rapport, moolah, and reputation that it ends up a good investment anyways.

And, with Uno being an aMaZiNg basketball player, his family invested in him too.

That also was a great investment as he's legitimately a prodigy when it comes to sports, not just basketball.

If only he wasn't a spoiled little shit who thinks the world must bend to his will.

Looking at him overtaking the social world in your University like a hurricane made you pissed off more than anything.

You hated bullies. And you thought that they would be gone once you stepped in senior high school but noooo he had to come and ruin the life you envisioned.

He would sport his stupid letterman jacket, those jeans that was tight fit to his toned legs, the tank top that forms on his abs a bit too well, and god that slicked back hair and snarky smirk. You want to wipe the sweat off-- YOU MEAN WIPE THAT SMIRK OFF.

You stomped your feet and pointed at the sky, screaming that you don't like him.

Yeah right.

Why were you so attracted to the man?

When all of your life you were bullied by people like him?

As a nerd, you devoted yourself to academics. You were born in a family filled with high achievers, and naturally, you were one too. You excelled in everything concerning subject matters of intellect, even indulged in a bit of geekiness with your habits.

Uno's not the only prodigy.

Medals upon medals, a trophy cabinet, and a mountain pile of certificates. You were an unstoppable force when it comes to intellectual contests. May it be quiz bees, or debates.

That resulted in you being bullied though. Of course, you were the nerdiest of nerds, Queen Nerd even (they're not that bright to come up with a better insult). They reveled in you getting pushed over, getting spoiled milk poured over you, getting used for their projects, and getting hopeful for an actual friendship. Just because you're smarter than them.

They're dumb, you're smart, they're strong, you're weak.

All of this pent up anger against bullies made you angry at Uno.

With days passing by in that godforsaken University, you had to hold back from biting back at Uno as he arrogantly tripped, threatened, manipulated, and hurt your fellow students.

You wonder when will be the time of your demise.

You shiver at the thought.

Speed walking towards your locker, you grabbed your things for your next class. Not knowing a certain pair of eyes were watching you from afar.

Watching your every move.

Always.

Uno, the greatest amongst the senior high, had always looked down upon people.

He's someone destined for greatness, why would he not squish the bugs under him? He's far superior than them.

He held his head up high. And with a standoffish smirk, he pushed away the people who are useless, and kept the people who wants to mooch off of him at an arms length.

But because of how much he tries to distant himself from people, he ended up with no genuine friends.

Always hiding behind fake smiles and forced brotherhood, he indulged in shallow relationships that's just filled with carnal desire and a connection easily severed by words.

He's bored.

So, why not ease the boredom by bullying?

It's not like the University can do jackshit about him. He's too far above to be disturbed, let alone suspended or expelled.

He's done awful things.

Flipping trays, ripping up artists' works, flushing down assignments, tripped up people in crutches, drove away people in wheelchairs, cut up or threw away earphones, broke phones and laptops...

Not just property damage, even mental damage.

He spreads rumors just because, he verbally assaults people who have "weird tastes" in fashion (it's literally just goth and emo), he blackmails teachers pets, and even pushes down suicidal people more.

He even made a student almost attempt. And he's fucking proud of that.

Just because he wants to ease the boredom in his heart.

He's too cruel for his own good.

If one asks if he's guilty, he just replies with:

"They fucking deserve it. They shouldn't live at all lol. Fucking losers."

And his parents? Blind and deaf to his bullying.

The school administration? Useless. Don't even try.

Everyone feared Uno.

But you do not.

You're openly hostile to the man, glaring and rolling your eyes at him whenever he harasses another student.

But he can also see how you shiver whenever he stares at you.

How peculiar.

You didn't cower, you didn't feign admiration...

You're genuinely and openly upset at him.

And he loved this fresh breath of air.

So, he didn't target you. At least somebody is not stupid enough to try and not get targeted.

Weird as it may, he started going around places that you normally would be.

The library, where he would cause havoc and topple down books, grab other students notebooks and throw them away, and play loud music, The park near your college building where he would steal food from the students, snip off plants, and break the chairs by slamming them, The rooftop where he would smoke and have regular fight offs...

You don't get to escape this man at all.

It was so amusing to him, seeing your panic and fear stricken face as he barges into your safe spaces and wreck havoc. He loved seeing you glare at him at the corner of his eyes as he harassed people, and how your face shifts to shock and nervousness whenever he caught your stares.

He loved it.

The weird one-way powerplay between you both was arousing this twisted man.

He was starting to crave you more and more.

He wants your eyes on him only as he committed atrocities, he wanted your disgust, fear, anger, and...

Was that affection he see?

"Holy shit..."

Do you, little miss prodigal nerd, have a crush on him?

He shakily breathe out, his hand gripping his face as it reddens. His eyes, hazy, intense, and crazy, revealed the deep emotions he had for you.

You're so cute.

His little nerd.

Emphasis on his. His and his only.

How hypocritical of you. You hated bullies but here you are, falling for him.

How fucking twisted is that?

And he reveled in that feeling.

The deep feeling of obsession with all of your emotions and feelings on him was more than the drugs he seldomly consume. He gets so high every time you loving him.

Love made him crazy.

Yeah, he loves you too.

And, with him making sure your "friends" are out of the way of his grand red carpet towards your heart and soul, Uno waited with bated breath at the right time to claim you.

That's it.

Your last friend, your supposed to be best friend, slapped you, dumped soup on your head and left you with words that stung deep in your soul.

"YOU'RE SO ARROGANT! JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE SMART, YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST WALK ALL OVER ME?!"

But you didn't. You swore you didn't.

But you only held your cheek as you watched them run away.

With a slump on the floor, you cried in the empty cafeteria.

You were so lonely.

You just wanted somebody to connect with you genuinely. No pity, no camaraderie due to being bullied, just genuine connection and friendship with another human that shares the same interests as you.

You didn't wish to be born.

You didn't wish to become this genius.

If it meant to lose the human connection you craved desperately, you don't want to be a genius at all.

You felt so cold, numb.

Your mind was only filled with what if's and what could have been if you didn't go to school here, or just...

You sighed.

You were struggling. So bad.

All of your friends left you, with the apparent reason of just tolerating you.

They never wanted to be your friend. You were like a collateral to them, a friend of a friend that squeezed into their friend group.

Who knew that all of them never really wanted to be your friend.

A pair of sneakers filled your vision when you cried your heart out to the ground.

Familiar basketball shoes.

Your head shot up and so does your heart as Uno smirked in front of you. A flash of mixed emotions run past by your eyes as you tried to back away.

"Nerd, how are ya?" He asked, a smirk that looks down on your situation situated on his face. "Saw your little friend run away from you."

You didn't say anything, just bit your lip as you looked away.

"Oh fuck. You're not friends anymore? Shit, you're so fucking lonely." The curses that slips past his lips were nothing short of mockery of your misery. "God, you must be so insufferable that even an unstoppable force like you get dumped."

"SHUT UP!" You finally screamed, eyes filled with pain and suffering seared into his brain. "YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING YOU FUCKING BULLY!"

But he only howled in laughter, as if it was the funniest shit he ever heard.

"I don't? Boohoo, I'll cry like you then. Wait, let me just..." He pinches himself before exaggeratedly crying into his hands. "OH BOOHOO! MY FRIENDS LEFT ME BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW~!"

You gritted your teeth, eyes ablaze with a newfound courage to confront Uno.

With shaky steps, you stood up and met him eye to eye, despite being shorter than him.

"And you're an unmovable object." You spat out. "Always doing whatever you want without any repercussions. Tell me, does it feel good to cause misery and pain to others?"

He scoffed, the annoying smirk widening. He grabbed an apple from your tray before biting into it.

"Yeah. So what?"

You want to punch him so bad.

"How did I even like you..."

Words slipped past your lips as your rage inhibited your cognitive and physical abilities to only say things in your mind.

Silence, before Uno doubled over laughing.

"Stop laughing!" You screamed, appalled by his behavior. Heartbreak imminent.

"It's just that... that was so straightforward, nerd!" Uno said between fits of laughter. "God, you're so fucking cute."

"Huh?"

Uno stopped, before clearing his throat and standing up straight.

"Hey, you know... I could take revenge on your behalf, little nerd." He whispered. His voice sending jolts of electricity down your spine. "I know you feel so betrayed right now. And I can just..."

Uno crushes the apple with his bare hand, making you shiver from fear and... Arousal at the display of raw power.

"Crush them. Just be mine." He offers, shaking off the apple chunks.

He made eye contact with you, before opening his mouth and licking the apple juice that dripped down his hand, seducing you.

"Both of us, prodigy in our own fields, are bound to be lonely. But we can be lonely together, ya know." He laughs a bit. "What we need is genuine human connection. No pretenses, no bullshit. Just us."

Your eyes shook at his words before it fell down to the apple chunks he dropped on your tray. With trembling hands, you grabbed one and ate it, not looking away from him also.

It was his time to shiver.

"Alright."

Bit into the forbidden fruit, the unstoppable force met with the immovable object. This meant doom for this godforsaken University.

What you didn't know that it was Uno's fault why your friends broke their friendship with you. Blackmailing them, making their lives living hell if they didn't pull back from you.

And as they shook with fear, tearfully crying for you and their future, they watched you become Uno's girlfriend.

Two humans, two prodigies, craving real and unfiltered connection.

It was the start of a relationship that will leave blood in their wake.

#yandere boyfriend #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere writing #tw yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic #lizzaneiaelizalde

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dragon-ascent · 19 days

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Okay first order of business- Sini you’re a genius and I love reading your works, like I have a list of Tumblr blogs in my notes app that I check weekly (poor short-term memory so I always forget the names/authors of fics I like) and you were one of the first ones on my list.

Second order of business is the thought I had that I thought you might enjoy, it spawned into existence while I was reading the Morax Cuteness Aggression post and I want you to consider this:

Adeptus!Reader who’s a frequent subject (read “victim”) of his cuteness aggression or even just silly centuries-old-dragon affection. It makes it even funnier- in a cute way- that this could probably go on for several decades, given the average lifespan of an Adeptus; there’s no escaping being Zhongli’s favourite little beastie, you’re stuck with him (not like that’s a bad thing, though).

You’re meditating peacefully in Jueyun Karst, knelt in the grass as birds chirp in the trees, leaves rustling gently in the wind. It’s so calm, so serene, and you just feel so relaxed… and then all of a sudden the ground beneath you starts shaking- it’s an earthquake??? You’re too busy being shaken like a maraca to notice your God, several hundred yards away, watching you struggle to find your footing with a soft and smitten smile on his face.

Another day you decide to try something Madame Ping recommended to you, Tai Chi, and as you move gracefully, beginning to really get in the zone and get the hang of it, a stone pillar has just erupted from the ground inches in front of you; you back up to avoid it, only for another appear, then another and another. The next thing you know, you’re dodging stone pillars left and right- where the hell are they even coming from? When you complain of the strange occurrence later to Xiao, he chooses not to mention that Morax had been taking a walk in that particular area around the same time.

You’re taking a walk just outside the harbour- dealing with humans can be so tiring sometimes- and a patch of flowers catches your eye. You kneel down in front of them, gently running your hands across the soft petals and inhaling the sweet smell of wildflowers; you’re an Adeptus, after all, you’re connected to nature and the earth like nothing else. It puts a serene smile on your face and instantly brightens your mood, you pluck one of the flowers and put it behind your ear and- when did all this damn cor lapis get here?? You just blinked and suddenly there’s chunks of it poking out of the ground all around you. Who could have done that?

Maybe Adeptus!Reader has a tail of some kind, maybe part or fully dragon (capable of shapeshifting and just likes looking partially like a dragon? I don’t know). Reader gets a little nervous and antsy at a gathering, pulling their tail across their lap and wringing it gently in their hands as a self-soothing gesture, they gaze off distantly and somehow fail to register the sound of stone cracking. The culprit is Morax, gripping the stone table he sits at with such force that it crumbles beneath his hands because FUCK that’s so cute- do you even know what you do to him??

Just thoughts of silly silly Morax letting his heart get the better of him when his favourite Adeptus, his beloved reader, is just so darn cute.

Waaahhh thank you for reading and enjoying my stuff a lot!! ♡♡

My GOODNESS this is too cute!!! Smiling so wide reading this!! Morax being a big silly sweetie with the way he expresses his cuteness-aggression AH I'm in love with these scenarios!! The bit with the tail omg I can't!!

Eventually reader might connect the dots...but it could take a few thousand years, heh. Maybe they're savoring some lovely sweets they'd brought back from a trip to Fontaine, wiggling in glee at the flavours...and then a bunch of sparrows made of Geo materialise out of nowhere and take flight?? You stare at them in confusion, reminded of how Rex Lapis used to summon Geo animals too, and just then Zhongli of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor passes by, externally as calm as a leaf on still water.

#sini answers #OBSESSED with this thank you #we stan a god who gets intense cuteness aggression #zhongli #morax

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alchemistc · 2 years

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Eddie's been a perpetual DM his whole life so when Dustin offers to run a one-shot over the first Thanksgiving break everyone actually gets time off for, Eddie leaps at the chance to play as a PC, and begs Steve to play. Steve hasn't seen all the kids (they're in their mid twenties but to Steve they'll always be The Kids) together in years and he's been subjected to enough lectures about it that he's half convinced he knows his way around a campaign and he's hopelessly in love with his best friend anyway. ("No, Robin, it's different alright, I can have two best friends." "Uh, no, dingus, you can't.")

So they all huddle into the Byers-Hopper living room and to no one's real surprise Eddie's PC is just breathtakingly detailed, backstory fleshed out and built into Dustin's storyline and he goes absolutely HAM with the character voice and has a blast with it.

The shock comes from Steve's character - because Steve is determined to make this the last year he moons at Eddie Munson from afar and he's recruited Dustin's help to weave in some memory loss for Eddie's character and spent hours upon hours working out his own character with Eddie because "I'm hopeless, man, you gotta help me."

(And Eddie does, bc Steve is his best buddy in the whole world and no one is immune to his puppy eyes except maybe the Wheelers.)

Steve goes for it, because he's nearly thirty gd years old and what does he care if sometimes he's a little silly - and sometimes things come out a little awkward and sometimes Eddie has to redo Steve's math from over his shoulder (he swears he's not being an idiot on purpose, honestly, but he doesn't actually mind the way Eddie eventually just drags Steve's chair closer to his and slings an arm around the back of it so he can press into Steve's space and do the mental math every time Steve has more to count than one die and a stat add-on). The party gets used to it all quickly enough even though the first hour or so is spent laughing incredulously every time Steve affects a Voice of his own.

The campaign takes seven hours and it isn't until halfway into hour five that anyone except Steve pieces together the threads of Eddie's characters mysterious memory loss and Steve's PC's cryptic history. Mike gets a funny look on his face ten minutes before they break for snacks and drags Steve into a bathroom.

"What are you doing?" he asks with a grimace and Steve pretends to be confused. "I swear to God, Steve, if you're using this campaign to finally get into Munson's increasingly tight pants I'm going to punch you in the dick."

Steve shrugs and shields his junk, and Mike maybe has an aneurysm but that's his own problem.

The thing is, Dustin is a little shit and when Eddie'd finally convinced Steve to play he'd gone to Dustin with a plan of his own because "I'm a goddamn coward, man, I'm never gonna muster up the courage to do this on my own I need something to force me into a corner." so, like, Eddie knows there's a big reveal coming too and when Dustin drops the lore that Eddie's PC once saved an entire village, died about it, and was brought back to life when Steve's PC made a deal with a literal demon (the same demon they've been chasing across the countryside for the whole campaign, only Steve's PC has been playing it off like he doesn't have a clue who this fucker is) Eddie really leans into the story - presses into Steve's space while Steve gives a lofty speech about how he'd agreed to let the demon take only the memories of his own character because not being known by the love of his life was so much worse than him being gone and maybe it all hits a little too close to home and maybe Eddie only realizes right as Steve's throwing a second failed death save that Steve and Dustin must have planned this and maybe Will is a little too knowledgeable about the intricacies of these disaster gays intricate mating rituals, because he could totally heal Steve's character but the moment is fraught and this shit is fascinating so he lets Steve give a death speech while Eddie - actual Eddie, not his character - has tears in his eyes and thank fuck he doesn't throw a third failure because Eddie looks about ready to upturn the whole table when Will saves a reaction.

And, hey, when Steve's finally up Eddie's hand sort of just doesn't leave it's spot clenched around Steve's knee and they get through the rest of the fight and Dustin builds out a nice little happy ending for them all, Lucas doesn't pretend not to cry about it, and Mike begrudgingly admits it was a cool way to frame the story, and Will stares at Eddie and Steve like he's trying to read their minds.

(It's possible he can read minds? Steve doesn't know for sure except sometimes he's convinced Will has some left over shit from all the Upside Down crap and sometimes Will Knows Things.)

They don't, like, talk about it right away, because that was exhausting and they're all hungry as hell but like, they're sharing a room, sharing the tiny bed tucked up against the window, and it's not the first time they've ever done that but Eddie doesn't really let them get that far because halfway through brushing their teeth together, scrunched up together in the tiny bathroom across the hall, Eddie spits out toothpaste and tucks his face into Steve's neck and Steve hums around his toothbrush and curls a hand in Eddie's hair and it's super fucking inconvenient because now is the perfect time to actually Tell Eddie like he's supposed to but he has a mouthful of toothpaste and an armful of Eddie and -

"I'm gonna kill Dustin," Eddie murmurs into Steve's neck and Steve manages to maneuver his body at an alarming angle so he can clear his mouth without letting go of Eddie. "Gonna kill you too, what the hell, Steve?"

And maybe the whole dying to save the village thing was a little on the nose and maybe Steve's speeches were a little purple prosy and maybe Eddie's never been more charmed by such an absolute dork of a man in his entire life so when Steve gets to eye level and ticks up a brow in question Eddie thinks about how he's always felt like a coward but sometimes The Kids make him brave and he just lays one on Steve, toothpaste lingering in both of their mouths and Mike loudly banging on the bathroom door before Eddie's even managed to get his tongue involved and -

"Holy shit, dude, you're such a dickhead, I'm trying to stick my tongue down Steve's throat, man," Eddie says when he yanks the door open and drags Steve past a beleaguered Mike and a thrilled Will and shoves Steve none too gently back through the bedroom door. "You got earplugs?" he asks, and Mike grimaces.

"No."

"Cool, no worries, if you hear any noises for the next few hours no you didn't."

Eddie actually manages to keep it fairly quiet but Steve is a whiner and Dustin never lives down giving Mike the, like, third most traumatizing evening of his life.

#steddie headcanon #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #i will never stop thinking up new ways for steve to use dnd as a mating ritual #you can pry that headcanon from my cold dead hands #also re: eddie going absolutely ham playing a pc #you can't tell me that man would not have the most charmingly unhinged pcs #(me watching brennan lee mulligan slay every pc he plays: it eddie)

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five-thousand-loaves-of-bread · 2 years

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why are autistics without intellectual disability so quick to distance themselves from those who do?

*unbolded version under the cut*

i see this most often in autistics who are (labeled) level 1/"high functioning"/"aspie" (yes i know the three don't always equal one another yes i know hans asperger nazi). this of course happens with all autistics without intellectual disability (ID) but see most with them.

this is largely rhetorical question.

see so many autistics without ID say things like "i'm autistic not STUPID" and get so offended when someone even imply or genuinely ask if they have ID.

"i'm autistic not [r word]," "i'm autistic but not like those kinds of autistic." all implying they're the "good" kind of autistic that deserve respect and rights and there is group of autistic who are "bad" (read: not palatable enough) who should be bullied and denied rights and locked away and mocked. often these are autistics with ID and autistics who are visibly stereotypically autistic who don't have ability to mask.

understand wanting to correct someone when they think wrong information of you, like you thought i have ID but i actually don't, just like you thought i have depression but i actually don't (just example not personal about me). but often when these autistics say "i'm autistic not STUPID" and variants, they often mean more than that. some autistic people without ID get so offended when people think they have ID. so offended at the idea of being associated with ID. like "how DARE you assume i have ID and are like those people."

so quick to separate self from people with ID. like they have the plague or something.

or. sometimes see autistics without ID talk about an autistic person with ID. talk about an "ugly" (unaccepted, not cute symptom) symptom and say "oh that's not the autism that's ID. autistics don't do that." and act as if there is a clear beginning and end to where the autism ends and where the ID begins. there is not.

or when autistic with ID gets mentioned. everyone focus on the autism and not the ID. or think they can speak about said autistic person with ID's experience just because they themselves are also autistic even though they don't have ID.

or "actually many autistic people have above average intelligence!" which is objectively true but 9/10 times this gets brought up to derail the conversation. yes many autistic people have high IQ (online autism space oversaturated with them), but what is left out is there is nothing wrong with having average IQ or low IQ/intellectual disability.

or. when bring up people w ID and/or autistics with ID, will say "IQ is a inaccurate/racist/colonial/ableist measure" and stuff like that. which is objectively also true! or "don't say you're stupid, you're actually very smart, there are many types of intelligence!" but the issue is when you are bringing these topics up. because yes IQ bad measure, intelligence subjective, BUT ALSO current society have specific types of intelligence they value (and this cannot be denied no matter how much you derail the conversation), AND there is nothing wrong with being "not smart" "stupid" "dumb" "unintelligent" etc. there is nothing wrong with having ID. admit that. why are you (general you) having such a hard time admitting that, to the point you will say everything else before admitting to that?

or say "[r word] is slur towards autistic people so i as an autistic person (without ID) are allowed to reclaim it." when no. r word is not slur towards autistic people. just because it has been used against you doesn't mean it means you. r word is an outdated medical term for intellectual disability, aka mental [r word]. not yours.

many many microaggressions (and macro aggressions tbh too)

autistics with ID are one of the more marginalized more vulnerable autistic population, more likely to be in bad conservatorship, more vulnerable to all kinds of abuse, less autonomy, no privacy, seen as completely incompetent, etc. particularly many have carers and are expected to fully trust and be completely vulnerable to other people and have no personal time no privacy.

autistics with intellectual disability are still autistic. they're not going anywhere.

i say this is rhetorical question because largely know why autistics without ID do this. especially level 1/"high functioning"/"aspie." because think are closest population to nondisabled neurotypical society, on the edge of nondisabled neurotypical society, expected to function well but do not. just "normal-looking" enough to be let in but not normal enough to be truly included, to thrive. many trouble. many trauma. and intelligence is one of the few things many feel proud to have feel positive to have. even feel superior to have. so have internalized ableism towards self but also internalized ableism towards intelligence.

BUT. your trauma or autism still don't justify your ableism. you are still responsible of educating self about ID and unpack ableism about intelligence and ID.

your trauma or autism doesn't justify your ableism you're just ableist

...

unbolded:

this is largely rhetorical question.

see so many autistics without ID say things like "i'm autistic not STUPID" and get so offended when someone even imply or genuinely ask if they have ID.

understand wanting to correct someone when they think wrong information of you, like you thought i have ID but i actually don't, just like you thought i have depression but i actually don't. but often when these autistics say "i'm autistic not STUPID" and variants, they often mean more than that. some autistic people without ID get so offended when people think they have ID. so offended at the idea of being associated with ID. like "how DARE you assume i have ID and are like those people."

so quick to separate self from people with ID. like they have the plague or something.

many many microaggressions (and macro aggressions tbh too)

autistics with ID are one of the more marginalized more vulnerable autistic population, more likely to be in conservatorship, more vulnerable to all kinds of abuse, less autonomy, no privacy, seen as completely incompetent, etc. particularly many have carers and are expected to fully trust and be completely vulnerable to other people and have no personal time no privacy.

autistics with intellectual disability are still autistic. they're not going anywhere.

BUT. your trauma or autism still don't justify your ableism. you are still responsible of educating self about ID and unpack ableism about intelligence and ID.

your trauma or autism doesn't justify your ableism you're just ableist

#actually autistic #actuallyautistic #intellectual disability #autism #level 1 autism #ableism tw #nd #asd #intellegence #IQ #loaf screm

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heliads · 3 months

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because I'm in the mood for Pain could i request a nikolai fanfic with a grisha reader. they were childhood friends, but then one day reader was captured by fjerda and after they find the cure for parem they come back to ravka and don't think they're good enough for nikolai because they were too weak to resist the drug. i hope you're having a lovely day!

'only in my dreams ' - nikolai lantsov

masterlist

There’s an old saying, one that’s been tossed around by generations of practitioners of the Small Science and otkazat’sya alike, one that you’ve heard since you were small and keep hearing as you get older. There’s no good place to be a Grisha. It’s been used as a weapon and an assurance at times, a claim that you don’t belong and a reminder that life doesn’t really get better, so you might as well enjoy who you are wherever you are.

Right now, though, it just feels all too real. When you were a child growing up in the middle of nowhere in the Ravkan countryside, no one trusted a Grisha. When you were brought to Os Alta to train in the Little Palace, the glimmering city didn’t feel like a home either, just a place where you would be brought up to fight in someone else’s wars. You could go anywhere you want, but it would never quite be enough. You find your home in people you trust, but no place will ever want a witch.

And, rotting in a Fjerdan cell, you think it’s especially true now. You pity the Grisha who were born in Fjerda, and wonder how they would have managed to grow up in a country whose own army was dedicated to the cause of hunting them down. It wasn’t all that great to grow up empowered in Ravka, either, but at least there was somewhere for you to go once you were discovered, and that was the Little Palace. In Fjerda, the only place that newly discovered Grisha go is the grave.

That, or the cells, and right now you’re wishing that you were six feet under instead of here right now. Other than wanting them dead, the Fjerdan government seems fascinated by just how Grisha work. They’ve managed to get their hands on jurda parem, and you’re a part of their latest batch of test subjects.

You last received the drug a few days ago, and already the debilitating ache of withdrawal is starting to press against your bones, tearing against your sinews and skin until all you can think of is when you last had it and where you could get some more. The Fjerdan scientists are single-minded in their approach to treating Grisha with parem; exact doses are carefully measured out and only delivered in the precise windows of time that they desire. Once medicated, the captive Grisha will have their hands unchained for slim opportunities to practice their gift, most likely to build or destroy or torture other captives as directed by the Fjerdan guards.

Eventually, the parem will wear off, and then you’ll be back to where you are right now: curled into a corner of your freezing cell, desperate for warmth or parem or anything more than this heavy, never-ending horror.

You used to be more than this, you know. You used to be a proper Grisha, one who could never imagine themselves as you are now, exhausted and starving and addicted to a drug no one even knew existed until just a short time ago. You had been brought to Os Alta when you were quite young, so for the most part, the Little Palace was the only life you had ever really known.

And what a life it had been; your mind drained by the constant tests of parem, you slip into a dreamy half-sleep, letting the memories cloud your consciousness so you don’t have to think about whatever horrors await you.

Os Alta had been beautiful. Ravka has been a struggling country for quite some time, and will likely go on eking out its days one by one for quite some time, but the royal family spared no expense on its capital city. Even the Little Palace, the smaller and humbler variant of the Grand Palace, was intricate and masterful, a testament to the artistic prowess of the Ravkan people when its creators went long enough without hunger pangs to focus on their craft.

You can almost imagine you’re there if you close your eyes. The sensations come back to you as if in a dream: the rustle of your kefta as you walk, the smooth edges of the cobblestones where they’d been worn down by hundreds of feet, the sharp voices of your tutors, the thrill in your veins as you used your powers. You can still remember when it had been a joyous thing to use your powers uncorrupted by parem. Now, every tug to the making at the heart of the world feels like a betrayal of your own people, a sick and terrible thing that should not be practiced by any living thing.

You turn your mind away from that harsh reality, opting instead to remember the good days, the golden memories when the worst thing you could imagine was doing badly in one of Botkin’s training sessions. Since you’d been at the Little Palace since you were small, you had plenty of friends across the branches of the Small Science, plus one extra boy whose eyes used to shine like sunlight off of the True Sea. He wasn’t a Grisha though. He was–

He was a prince.

Nikolai Lantsov wasn’t supposed to visit the Little Palace. Truth be told, he wasn’t supposed to leave the Grand Palace at all except when instructed by the king and queen or one of his tutors. However, the young prince didn’t seem to care for rules, and rare was the day when he wasn’t sneaking off to pass days by his own volition. More often than not, his errant path brought Nikolai to you.

The two of you had been friends for years. Never mind the fact that a friendship between a Grisha and a prince would be strictly forbidden, no one ever caught on and the two of you were quite obliged to keep it that way. Nikolai was brilliant in mind and spirit. When you think about the happiest you’d ever been, the days you wished could stretch on forever, it’s the time you spent with Nikolai that was the best of all. Sometimes, you snuck him an extra kefta and the two of you would explore the Little Palace, or you’d run around the countryside surrounding Os Alta. You’d swap stories and little trinkets or gifts, and you’d smile like everything was alright, because when you were with Nikolai, it was.

Then he got older, and you did too. Nikolai stopped being able to visit you as often. You grew through the ranks of the Grisha, and were sent on missions with increasing frequency. Sometimes, you’d be away from Os Alta for months at a time, and only come back to find out that Nikolai had just left on a similar errand. Your paths started diverging, and even though every time you saw him, it was like the days hadn’t passed at all, both of you had growing up to do, and unfortunately, that didn’t involve each other.

You still held out hope that maybe he would become king and find a way to loop you back into his busy days. Just recently, he had returned from his years at school (and, as the rumor has it, at sea), and you had hoped that maybe you’d be able to spend more time together. All you had was one more mission, then you’d be back in Ravka for many months. Surely you could use that time.

The Fates didn’t seem keen on that happy of an ending for you, however. Your mission went awry. Fjerdans intercepted your group. You distracted the enemy soldiers long enough for the rest of your party to get away, but you were captured and brought back to Fjerda. You had assumed you’d be killed, but instead, you were sent to their experimental division and given your first dose of parem.

So the angels fall. Now, the idea that you could be remotely close to a prince’s best friend is laughable. If you could see him now, you have no doubt that he would still be the same golden, glorious boy he had always been, now imbued with the confidence of years wearing the crown. By contrast, you are huddled in a cell, your powers harshly amplified by the corrupting influence of jurda parem.

No, Nikolai Lantsov certainly wouldn’t want you now. The only way you can have him still is in your dreams, those beautiful fragments of imagination in which both of you are still young and blameless. He hasn’t fled Os Alta for a false name and a life at sea. You haven’t been captured and forced to undergo cruel tests. Both of you are happy and whole, and nothing bad has ever happened to either of you. What a dream indeed.

A dream, but dreams are all you have. The dream of being back with Nikolai is a good one. So, too, is the dream that someone will come to take you out of this place. You’ve had this one many times before, and it slips over you like sleep. It would happen quickly, the break-out. The Fjerdan guards would shout in surprise, then be quickly silenced. You’d hear the rattle of fast footsteps, and the door to your cell would fly open. All doors would be open, and all Grisha would live. You’d run far away, to a place that would finally want you again. All would be well.

You’re comfortable with it, not bothering to open your eyes lest you lose track of the dream. Only– maybe the parem is still lingering in your system, because you swear the faux sounds of fighters are louder than they usually are in the dreams. It’s not real, but the shouts do seem real, don’t they?

It’s not real. After all, parem has a way of messing with your mind. Many times during your captivity, you’ve thought you’d seen someone from home only to realize differently during the cloudiness of withdrawal. This is the same as that.

However, when the door to your cell clangs open, you feel the reverberations through your skin and bones, something that never happens when the Fjerdans come to get you. Your eyelids fly open and you scramble back against the wall, watching with terrified eyes as soldiers hurry to you. One’s in Ravkan fatigues, but the other is a Healer in a red kefta.

“You’re not real,” you grit out, teeth pressed together.

She shakes her head sympathetically. “I am, my friend. We’ve broken you out at last. Here, I have the cure.”

She holds out a syringe pre-loaded with some sort of substance. You snap back when you see it, too familiar with Fjerdan tricks of trying to inject you with different medicines. “Don’t you dare get that near me. I know what you do.”

The Healer jerks her chin towards you. “Hold her,” she says to the soldier.

You scream, a high, drawn-out sound, and do your best to fight, but your captivity has left you frail, and he’s able to subdue you after minor effort. The Healer pushes the needle into your veins, and you wait for something terrible to happen, another grievous experiment to begin in your body, but the strangest thing happens: you feel better.

You stare up at the Healer. Your mind feels clearer than it has in days, and, impossibly, you can feel your strength returning. “What is that?”

“A cure to jurda parem,” the Healer tells you. “Sincerest apologies that it’s taken this long to get to you.”

You’re guided out into the corridor, where you join the former occupants of the surrounding cells. All of you regard your rescuers and each other with the same incredulity and faint excitement. Is this really it? Are you finally out?

The ride back to Ravka should be long, but it feels as if it’s over in the blink of an eye. Several times, the rescue party stops at safe houses along the way, giving all of you opportunities to wash up, get new, warm clothes, and eat and drink to fix the gnaw of hunger that clings to all of you. By the time the gates of Os Alta swing wide to admit you, you’re almost feeling normal again.

Almost.

The torment of your time in the Fjerdan cells will stick with you forever, and the awful memories of what it had been like to be under the influence of jurda parem. However, the Healer’s cure worked well. When you try to use your abilities, they work the same as they had before the awful drug was first administered to you. By all accounts, you’re back to normal, even if your mind doesn’t entirely feel that way.

The driver calls to your group that you’ll be arriving outside the Little Palace shortly. “King Nikolai will be there to greet you,” he announces over his shoulder.

Excited whispers surround this, and you can’t help but listen in intently. “Nikolai Lantsov will be there?” One girl giggles by your side.

Another smiles in encouragement. “They say he’s been observing each coach that brings back rescued Grisha from Fjerda. It’s like he’s looking for someone. Maybe an old friend?”

You feel your stomach chill, the warm delight of rescue starting to cool off again. You have no doubt that you’re the one Nikolai is looking for; he had told you many times that you were his favorite Grisha by far, even when he was briefly engaged to the Sun Summoner for purely political reasons, but you find yourself hoping he doesn’t find you when you get out of your coach.

It’s not that you don’t want to see him, you do– the idea of being with Nikolai again had sustained you through your time in the Fjerdan cells better even than food or drink, but the fact remains that you are no longer as you were in your memories. You are no longer someone that a king would care to see. More so than just your weakened frame, your disorganized mind– you were captured on a mission, and you succumbed to jurda parem. In the back of your mind, a cruel voice whispers, pathetic. Nikolai will be spending his time with the finest diplomats, the noblest princes and princesses. He will not want a Grisha who could not hold out against a drug.

You gather your borrowed cloak about you, pulling the hood down over your face. It’s a size or two too large for you, by virtue of it belonging to someone else, and right now you’re glad for the extra fabric to disguise you. Nikolai is looking for a ghost, and probably out of necessity. He’ll likely be relieved that he won’t have to handle you like a difficult situation.

The coach pulls to a stop. Many rescued Grisha are crammed inside, so you blend into the crowd as you all pour out. Other Grisha from the Fjerdan prison are there already. It’s easy to slip amongst their ranks, keeping your head down. Nikolai is there in front of you as promised. His head is tilted up slightly, his gaze sweeping row after row of visitors. Maybe he isn’t even looking for you at all.

Then, his eyes catch yours briefly. Immediately, you look away, and start backing through the crowds again, trying to lose his gaze. When you feel it’s safe to look again, you breathe out quiet relief when you notice that he’s still scanning the crowd where you had been. Lost him. It’s a victory, but it’s an awful pain nonetheless.

Once everyone has arrived, Nikolai says a few kind words about how he’s glad everyone has returned home and how apologetic he is about the time it took to get you all back. No one seems to hold it against him, though, and how could you? He rescued you in the end, and managed to get you the cure to jurda parem to boot. It’s a fine success if you’ve ever seen one.

Nikolai releases you to the Little Palace to rest. Grisha stream past Nikolai, but he doesn’t stop to talk to any of them, looking again for someone. For you, maybe. You pull the hood down low again. If you move quickly, maybe he’ll miss you. You give him a wide berth, keeping your eyes low. You’ve almost made it to the edge of the courtyard when you feel a hand rest on your arm, carefully pulling you to a stop.

You don’t look up, not at first. You don’t have to look to know who it is. You’ve known Nikolai for years. You would know how he walks, the precise pattern of his boots against the cobblestones. You would know how the breath hitches in his throat when you’re reunited after too long a separation. You would know how his hand feels on you. You’ve dreamed of it a thousand times, but this isn’t a dream anymore, this is real.

“Excuse me, moi tsar,” you whisper. Maybe he doesn’t know it’s you yet. Maybe you can still escape with your dignity intact.

Any hope you had of avoiding recognition vanishes in an instant when Nikolai murmurs, “Y/N,” in such a desperate voice that you feel you could hardly move if you tried.

You stand still. A strong wind could blow you over, maybe. You watch the ground as Nikolai’s boots cross the ground to stand in front of you. His other hand rises to brush your hood back from your face. A gasp is ripped from his lungs as he takes in the sight of you.

“I look that bad, then, do I?” You can’t help but laugh quietly. It’s a bitter sound. You used to sound happier when you laughed with him, you think. A lot has changed.

Nikolai’s hand leaves your hood, drifting to your face. He raises your chin with a soft finger until you’re looking him in the eyes again. “Not to me,” he says, voice hardly louder than a whisper. “I’ve always thought you were beautiful.”

A quiet scoff escapes you. “I have been a prisoner of Fjerda for months, moi tsar. I doubt that was conducive to beauty.”

“You’d be surprised,” he tells you. Then, a bit more insistent, “You don’t need to refer to me with a title, Y/N. You didn’t when we were little.”

“I didn’t know better,” you say. It’s not quite true, and he knows it.

“Don’t say that,” Nikolai pleads. “We were friends, excellent friends. Now we’re older and you’re avoiding me. Why?”

You look away again. “Don’t ask me that,” you say with a laugh. You meant it to be a joke, but it comes out as a plea.

“I will,” he insists. “I have always been stubborn, you know that about me. Stubborn enough to search every single Fjerdan prison my spies could find when you went missing. Stubborn enough to stand here and wait in the cold until I could find you. And certainly stubborn enough to wait here with you until you tell me why I’m no longer good enough for you.”

This, at last, is enough to make your eyes fly to him. “That’s not true,” you insist hotly. “Quite the opposite, in fact. You’re a king and I’m a Grisha. And a Grisha that couldn’t even withstand jurda parem, to be specific. Saints, you win wars and I lost the first one that ever came to me. If there is anyone that has ever been insufficient, it would be me.”

The hand on your arm slips down to your fingers, and Nikolai squeezes once, twice. A heartbeat. A prayer. “You have never been insufficient to me,” he tells you. You make some sound of disagreement and he repeats it, insistent as ever. “No, you listen. You aren’t. Jurda parem is notorious for the pain it causes. You think you lost the war? The fact that you’re still alive in front of me tells me that you won it. Every day since you went missing, I woke up and went to bed terrified that you were dead and I would never know. I need you, sweetheart, and I need you to stop punishing yourself for something that wasn’t your fault.”

You stay quiet for a while, letting the words turn over in your mind, then, impulsively, you ask, “Sweetheart?”

He grins, easy as always. “It fits you. Don’t argue with me, I’ve had plenty of arguments prepared to convince you otherwise.”

You laugh, and this time, it’s real. “I wouldn’t dare, then. I just would have thought that you’d have plenty of princesses who would have won that nickname for real by now.”

Unable to stop yourself, you cast a glance towards his left hand. No ring. When you look back up at Nikolai, he’s beaming. “No queen for me, I’m afraid. I was waiting for mine to return from captivity.”

You roll your eyes. “Still haven’t given up on that, have you? I seem to remember you trying and failing to convince me to marry you since we were six.”

Nikolai grins, slipping your arm inside his so he can guide you back to the Little Palace. “I will never give up. Not until you say yes.”

You laugh again, shaking your head in mock disbelief. It’s been a while since you saw him. It’s been a while since he asked. If he were to do it again, you think you might have a different answer than when you were both so small.

Nikolai turns to look at you, his eyes shining. He’s always had a gift for knowing what’s on your mind, and judging by the light in his smile, you think he’s predicted your thoughts yet again. He’s got some time before he attempts another proposal. This time, though, he’ll have a better outcome than before.

grishaverse tag list: @rogueanschel, @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000, @baju69, @crazyhearttragedy, @aoi-targaryen, @budugu

all tags list: @wordsarelife

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lizardtakesflight · 11 months

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The "Humans are Space Orcs" trope has always scratched a real good itch in my brain. I have something I want to write for it, but I'm really shit at coming up with a plot, so I keep just doing little drabbles like this:

"You know, I don’t like that they call you that.”

Thirtytwo’s ears perked up and swiveled towards Alex, who had been sitting in the corner of the room and watching nem type away at their console. The Terran had seemed content to spend this work cycle just monitoring Thirtytwo in neir duties, and if ne hadn’t been used to this by now, it probably would have been more than a little anxiety-inducing to be stared at by a predator species for so long. With those eerie, front-facing eyes, it was always pretty clear where he was staring.

Alex had been silent until now, just moments after Thirtytwo ended a call with one of the overseers.

“That they call me what?”

The Terran scowled, and Thirtytwo had repress the urge to shrink down against neir seat at the show of disapproval. “Drudge.”

Thirtytwo’s spines raised slightly in confusion, and ne turned in neir chair to fully face Alex. “That is… what I am, though.”

Alex huffed through his nose. “Yeah, but that’s not– you’re an individual, not just some faceless member of…” He seemed uncomfortable with stating the rest aloud. “You know.”

“The serving caste.” It didn’t bother Thirtytwo at all to be referred to by such; it was just a descriptive of what ne had been born to do. It wasn’t quite clear to nem why this subject seemed to agitate Alex so much any time it came up.

“Yeah, that.” The words sounded flat and unhappy through Thirtytwo’s translator. “They won’t even let you have a real name.”

Now ne was really confused. “My designation is Vega-Bluelight-Drudge-32nd-Born-of-24th-Generation.”

“That’s not a name, that’s just saying what you are!"

Alex’s agitation was beginning to affect neir mood as well, triggering an extremely strong flight urge, and ne couldn’t help snapping back at him. “You aren’t making any sense! They’re the same thing!”

“Okay, okay, sorry. Look." He scrubbed a hand through the short, yellowish fur on the top of his head. "My name is Alex, right?”

Thirtytwo's ears flicked. "Alexander Marcus Sullivan Sol.” That had been on the crew briefing that was sent out before Alex had come on board for the first time. Pronouncing it was a little bit difficult, because neir translator didn't pick up those sounds as translatable words. It always seemed odd to Thirtytwo that the Terran's name was just… gibberish.

“Right. Now, do all those words say what I am?”

Thirtytwo’s spines were beginning to soften out of their defense posture. “Sol means… you’re from the Sol system…”

“And the rest?”

“I don’t know.” They seemed to be nonsense words, but ne didn’t want to offend Alex by saying so. “They don’t translate.”

“Where I come from, names aren’t just… a label, so you can be sorted or ordered around. Names are a way to differentiate you from everyone else. They’re a word or combination of words that very specifically mean you.”

"So they're… descriptive words."

"Sort of. They can be. Most Terrans are named by their parents, or whomever raised them. Sometimes it's a traditional family name, or maybe the name of someone else they want to honor. Or sometimes, they pick it hoping that the kid will grow up to have the qualities of their name."

"So… what does your name mean?"

Alex paused for a moment, then shook his head. "Actually, hold on a minute." He picked up the datapad he'd brought in with him earlier and started tapping away. Probably accessing one of those databases only the higher castes had access to. "Alex is short for Alexander, meaning 'defender of men'," he read aloud.

"So… a warrior? That sounds like a caste assignment."

Alex shrugged. "That's just a coincidence. My dad was an agricultural laborer, Mom ran the transport for the company Dad worked for, and Tati stayed home and watched the kids. I was the only one that took military service, the others chose to work with Dad."

"And Marcus?"

"Eh…" Alex scrolled on his pad, was quiet a moment, then shifted a little in his seat. "It relates to an ancient god of war."

Thirtytwo gave him an unimpressed look. "You're not proving your point, here."

#my writing #humans are space orcs #for reference 32's species looks like a cross between a ferret and a rabbit with six legs and about the size of a medium size dog #with thick flexible spikes on its back

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xecutivecucumber · 1 month

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Executive Cucumber's thoughts on the Bad Batch: Season 3x06 and 3x07 (I'm pretty sure I'm formatting this differently every time. Oh well)

Okay, there's a subject I'm going to have to postpone until the end of the post because I want all my thoughts on that to be together: the main operative clone. And the rest might be slightly out of order. I'm also doing this before I see anyone else's thoughts, just so we get the pure version.

Let's go!

I honestly thought that Senator Singh and Riyo were dead meat. But no, they're fine because REX IS COOLER THAN ANYONE. Ugh that man. Freaking throwing the grenade back at him.

Clones are beautiful. That is all.

THAT'S THAT ONE PLACE FROM THE OG CLONE WARS MOVIE!!! TETH!!!

Howzer I love you but if you touch Crosshair we will be having words.

I am actually really proud of Crosshair and his restraint this episode. He could have been really cutting to Howzer.

OMEGA WITH THE TOOTHPIIIIICKS and Hunter is jealouuuus

EDIT: ECHO AND THE CROSSBOW HE'S SO SWEET

WHAT DID THEY DO TO YOU CROSSHAIR

It's really nice to see normal clones being normal again. (Too bad it doesn't last)

There's something up with Omega. I'm not going to lie, I think that she and Rex are going to plan to get her captured in order to track her back to Tantiss.

HOWZER STOP DISTRUSTING CROSSHAIR THIS MOMENT

I appreciate that Hunter doesn't seem to distrust Crosshair during this point.

...they really shouldn't have brought that operative back.

Rex is considering stealing Omega, I swear. I love that he gets down to her level.

WOOOOOOOOOOOLFFE (Plo would be so disappointed in you)

It's...odd to see these normal troopers with him.

It's also strange that he cannot comprehend that the clones could be traitors at first.

STOP DYING YOU BEAUTIFUL REGS

'She only bites half the time' I'm pretty sure Omega is lying here but I don't care.

CROSSHAIR IS SUCH A WORRIED DAD HOLY CRAP. 'Oh, I'm much worse' I LOVE YOU

And this just gives such a little insight into how the Batch was when they were together. I have a feeling that Crosshair was a fusser and a nagger.

And I love how Howzer's natural and correct conclusion is: 'no one evil could love that child.' (Unless you're Nala Se)

Hey, actual candor from Crosshair. I keep saying this is who he always was under it all, but I do think he's healed somewhat, at least towards regs. The healing power of Omega.

'Too bad' I LOVE THIS MAN

STOP DYING REGS

Rex talking down Wolffe reminded me so much of him trying to talk Jesse down. So ow.

Okay, what ROCK have they shoved Wolffe under for the last YEAR??? YES THE EMPIRE WOULD GET RID OF THE CLONES YOU DOG BRAINED IDIOT

(Plo would be proud that you let them go)

...they just killed all of Rex's clones, except Howzer and Gregor. And I have a bad feeling about Howzer. STOP TAKING THINGS FROM REX HASN'T HE LOST ENOUGH???

Okay here we are, at the big topic. Hold onto your pants.

That operative clone. Is. Tech. Because if he is not, they are purposefully using the narrative to deceive us.

I might miss a few things, but that's because I'm up past my bedtime and I've been up too late the last few days.

1. The falling and water parallels. This clone falls a LOT during this episode and dives into a lot of water. He even falls into mist. This time it's to kill and capture his siblings instead of save them.

2. The injury. This clone is hobbling around a lot after his injury, which was immediately reminiscent of Tech's broken leg at the beginning of season 2. Both of them are forcing themselves past their limit to achieve a mission. Specifically with injured legs.

3. General attitude and demeanor. In combination with the stealth and injury, this clone has a more hunched posture. His speech patterns are more formal, though we haven't really heard a lot of other clone operatives talk with their helmets on. But he's also apparently allergic to orders. I first thought that he'd be out of the chain of command, but they would have told Wolffe that he wasn't in charge of the operative if that were the case. Or the operative would have straight up told him 'I don't take orders from you' instead of staring awkwardly at him. Instead he runs off and does his own thing. While injured. Not to mention the buttons on his gauntlet. The other clone operatives don't have those.

4. The cybernetic legs. Now we don't know for sure if Tech would have cybernetic legs, but it seems likely for a severely injured trooper. And when Crosshair is looking at the heat signature, you can see that his legs are blue instead of yellow or red. No heat. Not organic.

5. What he says to Crosshair. 'You could have been one of us.' 'You chose the wrong side.' Yes, he's talking about Crosshair resisting the re-education. But flip it on its head real quick. 'You could have been one of us. One of the Bad Batch.' 'You chose the wrong side. The Empire.' Those lines very easily have double meanings.

6. An interesting one is when he starts moving rocks after the explosion. Why would he do that? Why not immediately go find another way in? He's moving only the smaller rocks. There's a large one in the way that he couldn't move himself. And he doesn't get the rest of the troopers to come move it when they arrive. He almost seems confused.

Like he's somewhere else after an explosion, having to move rocks. Like in the Crossing.

I know that this hardly seem like iron clad evidence. But in the language of story telling, it's practically screaming in our faces.

And I'm so glad he's back. I missed him. He won't be himself for a while, but I legitimately believe we'll get one last fight with the Batch all together. Because brain washing is a heck of a lot easier to fix than being dead.

My sister is doing the good work and creating a tik token about it, and I'll probably share it here when she's finished.

(We're getting the episode 'Identity Crisis ON MY BIRTHDAY and so help me if that's about Tech)

Honestly I thought I'd be more excited, but I spent the entire two episodes forcing myself into not having expectations and also I might be in shock.

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menthum-mint · 4 months

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SORRY TUMBLR PEOPLE

I HAVE BROUGHT GOODS

FEED

FOR YOU HAVE A FEAST NOW

I think

Okay but in all seriousness, i have completed two references and also made more concept designs for some others, heh-

So for now, we look to the references, because up first. The man himself.

Tatiana Darling? Wally Qwartz? Idk. But I can say thay he is hot stu-[BOOING CHORUS]

Up next, Neon Frank and his bot boys!

I will say that the bots do likely have 'human' forms, but I didn't feel too bothered at the time to worry about it, besides, Frank's in the spotlight, who really cares? (Some may and I'm looking at you with understanding eyes)

And now, for the last finished piece I have

Sweethearts, the both of them🥺🥺

Oh how sweet they always are with one another

(Frank threatens to launch himseld into space to follow after Eddie when the protagonist launch him into space... And speaking of the protagonists.. Let's just say [the] (Vinyl) Neighborhood isn't quite the same without You ;) wink wink)

And now for a few concepts!

DJ Howdy Pillar! Just a local radio show host looking to get local bands' voices heard even if they're all starting out small!

Since there is no actual shop in game, and the fact DJ Zam is an actually pretty prominent NPC (plus funny canon voice for Howdy), who else but Howdy for Zam's place? Welcome to Howdy MD people! :)

Now?

Let me just say that B.B. Beagle and Tatiana Darling (still dunno) are still very much good friends, even despite the large age gap. To Wally, it feels like.. It feels like he knows Barnaby, but on a deeper level, like they were old friends somehow, and they were reunited.. His jokes make him laugh as if the man knew exactly what made him tick.

Weird...

Though, dogs are trult man's best friend

And one more design (which is definitely very subject to change [to make look softer and more accurate to a youngling])

Poppy!

Now, I still have yet to truly figure out what is going on, but I will say Poppy is definitely very much the youngest in this AU, and unlike in most other places, she is not the mother figure, she is loved ever so gently by the rest (shown by the way Frank loathes your name for having destroyed her piano. The way it tears are the heart strings of onlookers to see her precious instrument shatter, the shards scattered wildly upon the floor of the stage.

How cruel of you. She's only 9..

Bonus obligatory Howdy Bean based off of Cofi's lil beans🥺🥺 I had to, it was legally required by law or else I'd be sniped on sight

But anyhow, I suppose this concludes the update. I'm not entirely sure if I can even explain more or if I even have more of an idea to explain, but if there are any questions, by all means send in an Ask and I'll try to answer them all without giving too much away until I can truly get things going. ;)))

See you :0!

And sorry again for no update in forever.😭😭😭

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bearsbeetsbeskar · 4 months

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Sheep Days with Joel (post outbreak)

Word count: 5.9k (im so sorry i genuinely can't believe I wrote this much about an old man taking care of livestock) Rating: swearing, descriptions of an animal birth (I tried to make it not too gross or explicit), traumatic animal birth, discussions of labour and stillbirths Summary: At Tommy and Ellie's insistence of him finding a routine, Joel is appointed as the sheep caretaker in Jackson. After all, sheep are quiet, and do what they're told. How hard could it be? A/N: this is purely self indulgent, peepaw playing with animals. No romantic interest or pairing, just wholesome father daughter interactions, along with some other characters. Something about the holidays made me think about that conversation that Joel and Ellie had over the fire, and his dream of owning a sheep ranch, and before I knew it 5k was written. If you have read all of this, please know that I love you so incredibly much and you make it worth it to keep writing these silly little stories that bring me so much joy. main masterlist

Life in Jackson had a way of moving at the speed of molasses, while also propelling itself further into the future at the speed of light.

Some days were syrupy and slow, thick with palpable moments of survival, tension and freedom. Memories of what life was like before the outbreak. Other days however felt like the course of an electric current, with glitches and shocks jumping from one event to another, one threat to another in the span of a few hours in a day. Attacks from raiders during ambushes in the early morning, a group of coordinated clickers just outside patrol borders when dusk set in.

Even just the day to day events in Jackson could make one feel that life seemed to pass by at a static, yet dynamic pace, regardless of what routine you had fallen into in the modest settlement.

Joel was still getting used to it. The staticity, as well as the dynamism. Life before Jackson was nomadic. Rootless. Constantly on the run.

Endure and survive. That’s all that really mattered at the end of the day. The words bore a penultimate weight akin to the wartime motivational phrase, ‘keep calm and carry on.’

Well, that’s all Joel knew how to do.

Carry on.

Not so much the keep calm part, but he was no stranger to putting his head down and pressing forward when things got tough. Carrying on also meant being strong for others. Something which Joel is constantly reminded that he need no longer do now that he and Ellie are in Jackson. Now that they are safe.

And there is no shortage of people who tell him the same, including Tommy and Maria, and even Ellie.

“You gotta find something to do, man,” Tommy sighed and crossed his arms, leaning into the doorframe of the kitchen. “Something to help you get into a routine y’know.”

Joel glared at his younger brother. “The hell d’you mean I gotta find something, Tommy? I already have a routine.” He scowled and shifted his jaw.

This is the 3rd or 4th time the subject has been brought up and Joel’s just about had it. He doesn’t get it. He does things. He does stuff around the commune. He goes on patrol shifts, helps with the woodworking and labour jobs. He goes to some of the community events, like game nights held at the dining hall or movie nights- even though it takes a good 30 minutes of Ellie’s begging for his resolve to crumble, and he grumbles throughout the entire movie.

As if Tommy can read his mind, he responds. “Going on patrol doesn’t count as routine, Joel.”

Puffing out his chest and mirroring Tommy’s body language, Joel glares at his younger brother.

“And here we go again,” Ellie quips from her seat at the kitchen table.

There’s a smirk plastered across her face despite her gaze, focused intently on the weathered pages of an old astronomy book.

“You stay outta this.”

Joel’s clipped tone brokers no room for negotiation, Ellie’s known him long enough to recognize that. But that doesn’t stop her from pushing him, just because she can.

“You stay outta this. Rah rah rah. I’m Joel and I hate everything.” She mocks his deep southern drawl with exaggeration, continuing to look down at her book.

“Tommy’s right, Joel. Say whatever you want but you can’t just fill your days with the odd jobs around here. And going on patrol. And hanging with me.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Joel exhales, his nostrils flaring. “Ellie-”

“Look, dude,” she cuts him off, “I love you, but it wouldn’t kill you to find something else to do with your time. It’s not the end of the world. I mean, it is but c’mon. It’s like you’d rather get killed by a fucking clicker than step outside your comfort zone.”

At that, Tommy snorts and shakes his head.

“It’d be a hell of a lot less painful than this conversation, that’s for fuckin’ sure.” Joel huffs and puts his hands on his hips.

“There’s lots of other jobs in the commune that you could help out with. Jobs that you don’t even need skilled labour experience for.”

“Like what, Tommy? Teachers at the school? Volunteers for movie night?” His scowl deepens, as does the crease between Joel’s brows.

“Like training newcomers on patrol shifts, working at the clothing shop, working with the livestock-”

“Livestock? What kinda livestock?” Perking up in her seat, Ellie pushes the book away and turns to face Tommy.

“Just for the horses, chicken, sheep and pigs. Well, it’s really for the sheep ‘cause we came into a decent sized herd in the last couple months, and they’re a bit tricky to look after.”

Tommy runs his hands through his raven curls and chuckles. “No one’s been able to quite figure them out yet, and they don’t trust Jake- the caretaker for the horses and pigs.”

“Sheep?” Ellie’s mouth gapes open, her bright mischievous eyes finding Joel’s.

“Joel. Sheep.”

Already knowing where the conversation was headed, Joel tips his head back and looks up at the ceiling. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”

__________________________________________________

And that is precisely how Joel finds himself knocked on his ass, after getting headbutted by one of the older lambs, in an attempt to get their halter on and bring them into the barn.

“You little shit, get back here!” he barks at the young sheep as it trots away from him towards the food trough.

Rubbing the right side of his jaw and grimacing, he sits back on his hands, looking at the rest of the herd a few feet away from him. “I’ve a right mind to tell them to serve lamb for the rest of the month at the dining hall. How’s that sound?”

A few sheep at the hay bale turn to look his way, chewing absentmindedly before ignoring him again. It had been about ten days since Tommy enlisted Joel as the sheep caretaker, or as Ellie had so lovingly called him, Jackson’s resident shepherd, and Joel had to admit, the job wasn’t half of what he expected.

It turns out sheep weren’t quiet, and they certainly didn’t do what they were told. Sheep were actually a pain in the ass to keep. A royal pain in the ass. Much different than cows and horses, despite being herd animals.

Not to mention that they were creative, escape artists, always jumping over the fence of the pen or squeezing in between the slats of the fence. It was a regular occurrence to hear the phrase ‘loose sheep’ or ‘the sheep are out again’ being hollered across the main street, as a handful of them skittered across the main road, Joel out of breath as he jogged after them, the stitch in his side burning through his abdomen, while he knees ached incessantly.

His first week was spent just getting close enough to them so that he could tag their ears for the breeding records. Not that he could manage to even get a hand on any, especially the young lambs. As soon as he got within 8 feet of the herd they would scurry away, kicking and bucking into the air, or run right past him, as he keeled over trying to catch them. Needless to say, Joel didn’t manage to avoid getting headbutted and kicked a handful of times during those days.

Cursing, he dusted off his pants and leaned against the fence of the pen.

“How’s it coming?” Tommy’s voice called out to him from the opposite end of the pen.

Narrowing his eyes in response, Joel hunched over to rest his hands on his knees.

“Easy my fuckin’ ass you liar. These little shits are demons.”

Stifling a chuckle, Tommy rests his arms over the fence and looks down. “Like I said, it takes some time to get to know ‘em.

It was wrong to laugh at his brother’s misfortunes but he couldn’t help it as he watched Joel’s hulking figure tentatively approach the herd again before pausing as they all scattered around him.

“S’that why you haven’t been able to recruit any other unfortunate souls for this torture?” Placing his hands on his hips, he shifts his weight from one leg, appraising the herd.

“No,” Tommy huffs out an exhale, “most folks don’t have the time to commit or they don’t have an affinity for animals.”

He looks out at the horizon, scanning the snow covered peaks of the mountain range bordering the settlement, before his gaze returns to Joel. He smirks as that familiar scowl settles onto Joel’s face.

“I do not have an affinity for animals.”

Snorting, Tommy looks down at his feet again, nudging the toe of his boot into the hardened ground. “Is that so? That why no one else has been able to ride Callus out on patrol?”

Joel grunts. “That’s different. I wasn’t taking care of him, I was only riding him cause everyone else had their designated mounts.”

Lying through his teeth was easier than admitting that Joel actually loved having a special bond with the chestnut gelding that seemed to hate everyone else.

It took time.

Lots of hushed murmurs and praise for the gelding to learn to trust again. Not to mention that Joel seemed to have endless patience for the imposing gelding, never getting frustrated with him or upset when their progress seemed to regress. Plus, he had that quiet commanding authority that seemed to ease Callus’ nerves whenever he became frantic and anxious.

Before he knew it, Callus was following him around the paddock, poking his head out of his stall and nickering whenever Joel stepped foot in the barn.

“Whatever you say, Joel. Whatever you say.” The younger Miller shook his head and stepped back from the fence. “I’ll let you get back to it, since you got your hands full,” Tommy squinted and peered around Joel’s figure, “or, rather, your pockets full, I should say.”

Before he can even glance behind him, Joel feels a harsh tug on his back pocket, stumbling backwards as one of the young lambs tears a shred of the bandana in his pocket.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Gimme that back you piece of-” he bellows as the lamb prances away with the scrap of faded red cloth in its mouth, echoes of Tommy’s laugh fading into the background as he walks away.

_____________________________________________

A couple months later …

It had been roughly over a month since Joel started taking care of the sheep. Their upkeep became somewhat easier as Joel figured out their quirks and tricks to working with them, but the real difference was that Joel did indeed fall into a routine with them.

Everyday he got up before Ellie had to be up for school, and headed over to the barn to give them their morning feed. Then, he’d come home, eat breakfast, and walk Ellie to school, shortly before returning to clean their pen and stack hay bales in the barn loft. Sometimes he would even shear some of them when their coats became too thick. At the end of the day, he’d pick Ellie up from school and they’d have dinner together in the evening, then he would pop out again to feed them dinner and do a final night check before lights out.

They were surprisingly curious creatures, and smart. While he would mill about his different chores, they would follow him as he walked around the outskirts of the pen. When he was cleaning up the pen, they would nudge the wheelbarrow, knocking it over in the process.

Eventually, they stopped running from him and would eagerly approach as he walked through the barn into the outside pen, carrying a heavy hay bale for their breakfast or dinner.

When he’d get lost in his aimless thoughts, or stuck on paralyzing flashbacks, a panic attack brewing under the surface, he’d feel a tug on his sleeve or the back of his jacket.

Pairs of deep brown eyes surrounded by a halo of soft cloud like wool would simply stare back at him. Calmly grounding him back to reality. Not that he encountered those very often. What was even more surprising to Joel was that he had panic attacks way less often these days, his brain seeming to allow him some rest and solace from its usual fight or flight status. Even Ellie and Tommy noticed too, with Ellie pointing out that he was ‘less of a grumpy motherfucker than usual.’

He never named them, though. He wouldn’t allow himself that liberty.

They were just animals. Creatures.

Creatures, who in the beginning were ‘little shits with crack for brains and body padding like the Michelin man,’ according to Joel. Soon, however, ‘little shits’ turned into ‘little devils,’ which eventually turned into ‘little buggers,’ with an affectionate lilt behind the nickname.

It was Thursday today and the vet was coming by to look after the horses and give them their seasonal shots, along with the sheep, too. With temperatures dropping, the animals had to be prepared for the harsh onslaught of cold weather that was native to Jackson winters. Although the commune was prosperous and there was no shortage of food and supply, or need to ration, the animals were always of high concern.

“How much are you feeding them nowadays?” Dr. Joyce, the local vet, asked as she placed her stethoscope to the belly of one of the mature ewe’s.

“‘Bout 25 pounds of hay a day, and 15-20 pounds of grain on top of that.”

She hummed contemplatively as she shifted the stethoscope knob throughout the mass of wool covering the sheeps’ belly. “That’s quite a bit considering the size of the herd you have here.”

She nods to the rest of the herd munching away at their breakfast in the pen.

Joel shrugs in response. “That’s what Jake was feeding them beforehand but he suggested I up it as we come into winter, to help ‘em keep weight on.”

“Well, he’s certainly not wrong.” She reaches into her kit to pull out a packaged syringe, ripping open the wrapping and flicking the end of the needle two times. Small droplets of liquid ricochet out as she pinches the skin of the ewe’s neck, not covered in wool, and gently inserts the syringe.

“Is there anything else I should be doing? Or anything else I could do to help them more when winter hits?”

While Joel would admit that he still really has no idea what he’s doing taking care of these animals, it doesn’t mean that he won’t give his all in providing care to them. He’s come to realize he actually likes learning about the sheep, aspects of their care, behaviour and physiology. It scratches parts of his brain that were only really activated when he was contracting, woodworking, or other technical jobs. And he doesn’t half ass jobs, no matter the nature of them.

Dr. Joyce swiftly removes the needle within seconds, and smiles warmly at him.

“Nothing in particular, Joel. You’ve done a great job taking care of these guys so far, I know they’re not easy to look after.”

At that he chuckles and shoves his hands in his pockets as he leans against the stall door. “You could say that. There’s been a deep learning curve with ‘em that’s for sure.”

She nods and opens the back stall door that leads out to the pen, the ewe trots out to return to the herd. “Well, like I said, you’ve done a good job so far. Aside from keeping up with shearing them, although you won’t have to worry about that too much come winter, they’re pretty low maintenance. Keep them on lots of hay throughout the winter, and give them more grain to supplement for the colder weather. And some of them may need more than others, especially the pregnant ones.”

He nods along, running through the mental checklist of things he’s already been doing to increase their food supply, when he looks up at the vet.

“Pregnant?” His brows furrow and he frowns.

“Oh boy. I guess Jake left that part out when you took over?” The vet chuckles again as she takes in the dazed look on his face and scans the herd briefly.

“You do have a couple pregnant ewe’s here, probably at least 3 or 4. But that one,” she points to a particularly large sheep under the shelter that’s lying down, unkempt wool and hay covering half her face. “That one, 1633, she’s the furthest along. Probably another week or two before she pops.”

“A week?” Joel repeats it, disbelief still laced in his tone. “Shit, I thought she was just really fat. And lazy.” He narrows his gaze at the ewe, tilting his head slightly as he takes in the obvious rising and falling of her midsection, her legs barely tucked underneath her.

“Don’t worry, Joel, I know easier said than done,” she reassures him after clocking the worry etched into his features. “But sheep births are often fairly quick and easy, not as intense as horse or cow births due to their smaller size. I’ll be on call over the next week in case anything happens but just put more bedding in the stall here during the evenings for her, and keep her feed the same. She will handle the rest.”

Inhaling sharply, Joel nods, processing it all. She tells him what signs to look out for that indicate early labour, and gives him a brief list of things he can do to prepare, as well as supplies that could be helpful during the birth and afterwards. At least the doc will be there to help out so that he’s not completely on his own, despite being very out of his league.

“Sounds good, doc, I’ll call ya if I notice any changes in her or when she does drop.”

“Please, do. And I’ll see if Jake can come in for an hour or two during your off hours in the event she does go into labour then.”

__________________________________________

Three days after Dr. Joyce’s visit, 1633 goes into labour. Nearly 10pm, just as the settlement tucks in for bed and night shift patrols begin. Dr. Joyce was busy with another animal emergency, of course. Just his luck.

So, he recruits the next best thing, and gently wakes Ellie up after rushing back to the house after a night check. He hands Ellie the list of supplies that Dr. Joyce gave him and she blitzes throughout the house, gathering the different things in a box.

Of course, the curiosity, fear and excitement over an animal being born was not lost on his teenage daughter. She fired off a barrage of endless questions as she was right on his heels, following him throughout the house.

“Has her water broken? Is she in pain? What direction is the baby gonna be facing when it comes out? Did you call Dr. Joyce?”

“You bleat more than the damn sheep these days, y’know that? C’mon just get that stuff together for me.”

Joel huffs as he grabs a bucket from under the kitchen sink, thinking of what else he could grab. It had to be the night when Tommy and Maria were both out on patrol as well, leaving just him and Ellie.

God help him.

When they returned to the barn, the ewe was in the stall, lying on her side, bleating out her obvious discomfort. He quickly takes his thick jacket off, hanging it on a nearby post before stepping into the stall.

“Alright, honey, alright, it’s okay.” The low murmurs of his voice only seem to agitate the ewe more, as she bleats repeatedly while he approaches and crouches down beside her. His eyes never leave the ewe’s body.

“Ellie, hand me a couple big towels.” She reaches into the box of supplies and hands him two fluffy towels, crouching down beside Joel slowly. The ewe continues to let out loud long bleating groans, huffing as her body starts preparing for labour and her water breaks with an audible slosh.

“Shit. Well, there goes her water.” He huffs, his mouth pressed into a straight line as he tries to peek and see any signs of a muzzle or cloven hooves coming out.

Gagging and turning away slightly, Ellie groans.

“Ugh, okay that’s fucking gross!”

He gives her a disapproving frown. “You’ve seen worse before, calm down.”

“A clicker brain and exploding guts is not nearly as gross as this. How are you not freaking out?

Suddenly, the ewe lets out a long bleating groan again and thrashes her hind legs, in an attempt to get up frantically.

“Shit. Whoa, whoa, whoa, mama. Easy there. Y’can’t get up just yet.” He hovers over the sheep and tries to coax her back on the ground.

“Ellie, come around here, help me keep her on her side.”

She shuffles around to Joel’s other side and buries her hand into the soft thick wool, gently pressing down. “Have you ever done this before?”

Joel grunts while he tries to contain its flailing legs, preventing the ewe from rolling over or getting up.

“Nope,” he strains. “I’ve seen one or two cow births, long time ago when I was growing up in Texas.”

“Shouldn’t be too different,” he says breathlessly, saying a silent prayer as he pulls the sheep away from kicking at the stone wall of the barn. “As long as she stays on the ground like this, she should be okay, she can’t get up or roll over though ‘cause it could hurt or suffocate the baby.”

“Okay, okay,” Ellie exhales shakily, wincing as the sheep bleats loudly.

“Hey,” he turns to gaze down at the teenager, his voice quiet but authoritative. “It’s gonna be okay, look at me.” Her dazed gaze snaps from the ewe up to meet Joel’s big brown eyes. Anxious. Focused. “It’s gonna be okay alright? She’s gonna be okay?”

Ellie nods her head, the hint of a smile tugs at the corner of her mouth as she looks down at the ewe again. “It’s okay, momma, you’re okay, just breathe.”

No later than 5 minutes after do a pair of hooves and a muzzle appear. Ten minutes of pushing after that, the tiny lamb is lying sprawled out on the ground, Joel rubbing the remnants of placenta off its body and face.

“Joel.”

It’s barely above a whisper as Ellie hovers over the baby, crouched on the balls of her toes.

“Joel. It’s - it’s not breathing.”

She inhales sharply and leans her head over the mouth, trying to feel or hear for a puff of air.

He’s silent for a moment, and leans back looking at the tiny body covered in bodily fluids, and realizes there’s no movement coming from the lifeless body. No rising of its stomach, and its eyes are barely opened.

All of a sudden the vastness of the chilly barn shrinks to the size of a shoebox. The air suffocating, as if all the oxygen was sucked out of it.

“Fuck. Fuck. Get me another towel.”

Rushing over to the box of supplies, Ellie hands him a smaller towel, as Joel leans down and wipes at the lamb's eyes, and around its nostrils. He tries to open its mouth to see if there’s any fluid trapped there but he can’t see.

“Get the baster. Hurry.” His clipped tone betrays his panic as Ellie places their turkey baster in his hand.

It’s a poor substitution for an actual proper bulb syringe that is used to remove mucus and fluid from newborns’ mouths. He opens the lamb's mouth and inserts the baster roughly, pressing down on the bulb, as murky liquid is drawn through the clear pipette. He squirts the remnants of the baster out onto the ground and reinserts it into the lambs mouth, drawing more mucus and crap out a few more times until it’s empty.

They both wait a beat, panting heavily to see any sign of life on the little sheep.

“She’s still not breathing. Fuck.” Ellie’s voice trembles. “She’s not breathing, Joel!”

“Okay, go into the feedroom and fill up the hot water bottle with warm water okay? Warm water, not hot, I’ll try to swaddle it in more towels, get some heat going.”

Immediately, she races to the feedroom with the rubber water bottle. As Joel hears the water running in the background, he wraps the lamb in two big towels. The ewe is now up and pacing frantically around Joel, sensing something is wrong.

“C’mon baby, c’mon,” he rubs the covered lamb firmly, pressing his palm down slightly against the ribs and chest of the baby and shaking slightly. Nothing though, no sounds, no movement.

The ewe is now crying and bleating repeatedly as she paces circles around Joel, wanting to get to her baby. “I know, momma, I know. I’m trying. Fucking hell.”

The edges of his restraint and control start to fray. His heart is racing, chest tightening under the crushing realization that the lamb is a stillborn. He cradles the lamb, swaddled in a mountain of towels now, squeezing his eyes shut and holding the tiny limp weight against his body.

Moments later Ellie reappears at his side, sinking to her knees with the water bottle in both hands, the sloshing sound of the water drowning out the ewe’s crying.

Joel opens the folds of towels up so that she can place the flimsy warm pouch over top of the lambs side. Wrapping it up like a burrito again, he holds it up against his chest as if he was holding a baby, firmly patting and rubbing the little lump in his arms. Ellie fruitlessly tries to calm down the mother ewe but it’s no use as she continues to trot circles around Joel, weaving back and forth and trying to nose the little lump in his arms.

He places the swaddled lamb on the ground, into the cushioned nest of shavings and straw bedding. Hovering over it on all fours, he places his palm over the swaddle again, applying pressure to the lambs back and rubbing circles, while opening its mouth with his other hand.

“C’mon, little one, c’mon. Gimme something, c’mon. Please.” Joel leans down, his lips pressing against the towel as he murmurs. The sound of his warm, deep voice breaking is barely muffled by the damp fabric as he squeezes his eyes shut. Another set of warm, small, clammy hands overlap his, as Ellie kneels beside him.

They huddle together over the lamb for another minute or two, the soft swishing of straw and shavings strewn about as the ewe continues pacing is the only audibly sound. Her cries for help softened to brief bleating.

Ellie intertwines her fingers with Joel, squeezing tight as she let’s out a quiet sniffle.

Then, a muffled sound. The smallest hiccup.

“Joel.” She whispers and squeezes his hand again.

“Joel, look.”

He raises his head slowly, holding his breath as he hears the small noise again, before he carefully unwraps the swaddled material. He cautiously rubs the lambs back again, as they watch as its bleary eyes blink open, slowly but surely. It raises its head ever so slightly, dazed, before letting out the smallest bleat.

Choking out the breath that he had been holding in, Joel rushes to wipe around the lamb’s eyes and mouth again. “There she is. Hey little one,” he coos at the small animal, afraid to speak above a hushed tone.

“Holy shit.” Ellie huffs in disbelief with tears in her eyes. “Dude, you fucking did it! Oh my god, look at her!”

She clutches the sleeve of Joel’s shirt, exhilarated and bouncing with adrenaline. “Do you think it’s a girl?”

Smiling to himself, he shakes his head, “not sure, but it doesn’t matter, s’long as it’s healthy. Right, little one?” He slowly strokes the lamb as it starts bleating with more fervor, when he feels a bigger muzzle shoving his hand out of the way .

“There ya go momma, there she is.”

He gets up, ignoring the groaning protest from his knees and steps back so that the ewe can see her baby, gesturing for Ellie to follow.

“Here, Let’s give ‘em some space to breathe. Go grab the space heater and we’ll get ‘em nice and warm.”

Shooting to her feet, she scurries back to the supply room to retrieve the heater. Joel sits back against one of the stall walls, his head tipping back till it hits the wooden slats with a dull thunk as he takes the deepest breath he’s taken all day. The adrenaline is still coursing through his veins but he feels fucking exhausted all the same. Defeated but elated, he watches the mom lick and nudge the little lamb, before a voice rings out from behind him.

“Well, well, well, looks like we got a full house in here tonight!”

Joel turns to see Dr. Joyce striding through the aisle, a bright twinkle in her eye as she stops in front of the large stall, already stretching a pair of latex gloves over her hands.

The corners of his mouth pull up into a small smile as he nods in her direction. “Hey doc, how’s it going?”

“I should be the one asking you that,” she chuckles with warmth, shimmying around the stall door slowly. “You’ve had quite the night from what I can tell. I saw the lights on at this hour and I could only assume it had finally happened.”

Snorting, he crosses his arms over his chest. “That’s one way of putting it.” He nods his chin as Ellie returns with the space heater in hand, “couldn’t have done it without this one’s help of course.”

Ellie grins and hands the space heater to Joel. “If I’m being honest, it was probably one of the coolest and scariest things I’ve ever seen in my life. Especially when she wasn’t breathing. But it was all Joel, really. He brought her back, I just tried not to get in his way.”

Rounding Joel’s other side, Dr. Joyce crosses the stall and crouches down and pulls out her stethoscope, winking at Ellie. “Is that so? Do I sense a future vet tech assistant that can help me with house calls?”

“Shit. Are you serious?” The teenager’s eyes nearly bug out of her head as a massive smile stretches across her face. “That would be fucking awesome!”

Joel doesn’t even have the energy to reprimand her for swearing, his mind and body drained as he snorts and shakes his head.

“Hey! Is there room for two more at this welcoming party?!” Another booming voice echoes throughout the large stone barn, similar in its Southern drawl to Joel’s but not as deep.

Tommy and Maria round the corner with huge smiles, still in their riding clothes, fresh off the night patrol.

“Just so long as y’all can keep quiet.” Joel grumbles, still sat leaning against the stall wall with his arms crossed, legs kicked out from underneath him. He looks over at the scene in front of him, warmth etched into his features as he watches Dr. Joyce check the lambs vitals while the ewe finally starts to munch on hay again.

“We couldn’t believe it, we had to come right away. Hell, I had half a mind to cut the patrol short when we found out.” Maria nods at Joel with a smirk. She glances over to the little sheep who has started to stand on all fours and nurse from its mom, wobbling on its nimble legs.

“What’s the verdict Dr. Joyce?” Tommy sidles over to Joel, crouching down beside him and grinning. “All working organs? All ten fingers and ten toes?”

Joel sighs gruffly. “They’re hooves, not toes, genius. Jeez, you sure you’re expecting soon?”

Maria only smirks in response as Tommy mumbles and shoves his older brother in response.

“Everything’s in order Joel, don’t worry.” Dr. Joyce smiles, taking one ear bud out of her ear as she continues to check the lambs pulse. “Her oxygen levels seem good, despite the rocky start and her lungs are clear of fluids, and she’s warm. You couldn’t have done a better job, really, you should be proud of yourself.”

He tries to hide his beaming smile he really does, but Joel grins. His bright eyes crinkle and his dimple pokes through his right cheek. “Thanks doc. I appreciate ya comin’ over here as soon as you could.”

“Her?” Ellie’s eyes widen as she clasps her hands together. “So it is a girl?!”

“Yup, definitely a girl.”

“Think she deserves a name, don’t you?” Tommy nudges Joel in the arm again.

Joel’s smile falters immediately. He shakes his head and looks down. “No. I don’t name ‘em, besides it’ll only be a couple of days before she’s gotta get tagged and registered in the breeding books too.”

“Oh come on Joel, please? She deserves one. After everything she’s been through…” Ellie’s voice trails off.

Everything they had been through. She doesn’t need to say it for him to know.

When she doesn’t keep going he looks up at her. Her eyes pleading, welling up with fragments of the pain and haunted memories that they endured over the last year.

He looks at Tommy and Maria, his eyes then falling on Dr. Joyce as she tends to the lamb.

“Ellie’s right Joel. I know y’all don’t normally give them names, especially the young ones, but given the circumstances, this little lady oughta have a name.” The vets eyes are soft as she gives Joel a sympathetic smile.

He’s silent for a moment, shifting his jaw. His gaze drops to the tiny lamb, white as snow, now that she’s been towel dried and cleaned, listening to her tiny bleats as she headbuts her mom for more milk. Instantly, his gaze softens, his big eyes rounding at the newborn.

New life.

A breath of fresh air into the looming hollowness of the barn. A pulse. An electric current, melding into a comfortable, viscous, energy as Jackson’s population, well four-legged population, increases for another day.

Sighing, he tilts his head in adoration. Filtering through the vestiges of his memory, he thinks back to the conversation that prompted this whole sheep herding fiasco. Him, Ellie, their tiny fire amongst the vast expanse of snow covered country, with nothing but the moon overhead. The comforting solace provided by its glowing illumination, letting them know they weren’t alone in their travels.

“Well, she is a bright light, figuratively and literally,” he peeks his head out of the stall to find the moon, beaming down on the tiny settlement, before glancing down at the lamb again.

“How does Luna sound?”

In that moment, the lamb trots over to Joel on its spindly legs, getting braver by the minutes after its birth. She bleats in his face loudly and headbutts his arm affectionately before circling back to her mom, stumbling over herself in the process.

“Well I’ll be damned, I think she likes it.” Tommy chuckles as Maria comes to stand beside him.

Ellie snuggles up to Joel, her eyes starting to close as the evening's events catch up to her. “It’s perfect,” she yawns and nuzzles into his broad shoulder, “our little Luna.”

Luna approaches Joel with more curiosity again, as he stretches his hand out towards her, letting her sniff and lick him.

Despite everything that happened, the chaos, the panic, and near crisis with his first lamb birth, for the first time in a while, Joel feels whole. Fulfilled. Right where he's supposed to be, in this new world, this new life.

Rooted.

A lopsided smile stretches across his face, as his dimple pokes through his cheek. “Yeah, I suppose it is. Our little light, Luna.”

#joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fluff

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janesaridoll · 9 months

Text

Birthday princess

pairing || woc!reader x mob!ari levinson

genera || fluff.

summary || how’s Ari dealing with someone trying to disrespect his girl.

wordcount || 2,4K

Donate to my ko-fi!

A vicious man who will go to any length to make his sweetheart smile.

Growing up, Ari enjoyed his mother's elaborate celebrations, where everything had to be extravagantly flawless—whether they were birthday parties, wedding anniversaries, or charity events. He thinks his mother did all that to compensate for her husband, his father’s harsh reality.

He especially gets excited whenever his birthday is nearing, he loved when he was ten and he loves it now, almost thirty seven years old.

Even though, it's different from when he was younger, he still enjoyed it. However, the idea of someone not celebrating their milestone were awful to him, So when he found out his precious girl never celebrated her birthday he was horrified.

He couldn’t fathom that someone not celebrating their birthday especially someone as sweet as his girl.

Your birthday was never acknowledged by your parents. Not even a happy birthday was said. Although, your siblings celebrated theirs, no one ever seemed to remember yours.

As you got older, you just forget about it. You knew you missed something, but there was nothing you could do to persuade your parents to celebrate your birthday because they always had some excuse not to.

At first, you resisted Ari's insistence on throwing you a birthday party. Therefore, Ari did not celebrate your first birthday together as he had intended while you two were together. But of course he did do something to celebrate.

He took you to an upscale restaurant, after both of you finished eating, he gave you your gift; an elegant pair of earrings. That was the first time anyone had ever given you anything. You were appreciative, till this day you never taken them off.

The following year, when your birthday approached, Ari broached the subject once more, you told him you didn't care and that what you both did last year was enough yet Ari didn't think so. He wants to give you the experience of celebrating your birthday properly.

After much persuasion, you agreed to the birthday party, Ari got his mother's party planner number in order for you to contact her to plan your birthday, he didn’t set a budget for it; just told you to do what your heart desired.

"I want everything to go as smoothly as possible, Steve, I don't want anything to go wrong," Ari says as he sips from his brownish liquor.

"Of course, I'll tell Peter to oversee everything," you'd assume from the way they're both talking seriously in their black suits that it had to be about business. No, it's Ari's princess 24th birthday celebration. Which, if you think about it, is more important.

Ethan, your bodyguard and friend, is racing with with staff members making sure everything is perfect for your birthday, including the lights, decorations, DJ, food and drinks.

“She even got Ethan to do all the work” steve mumbled to Ari who let out a chuckle “I can’t believe he’s the toughest one of our men” He sips the rest of his drink before smiling to himself “wait for me in the werehouse” Steve only nodded.

He went upstairs to the guest bedroom where you had your makeup artist and hairstylist stay because Ari doesn't like it when people are in his room.

He stared at you from the doorway, completely captivated; the expression of happiness in your eyes brought happiness to him as well; he can't believe someone could be so cruel as to not love or spoil you in the way you deserve.

"Can you leave us for a minute?" As soon as he said it, the room quieted down, and your best friend, Nat, who you met through Ari's friends, spoke up, "sure, we will be outside," she patted your shoulder. She had already dressed in a black silk dress, done her makeup beautifully with smokey eyes and her signature red lipstick that matches her hair, she looks stunning.

"You look pretty," he began, staring at you from the mirror “you do, too," you said, turning around to face him.

He takes a step closer to you, as soon as he is within reach, you wrap your hand around his neck, drawing him closer to you, tilting your heads up to lock your gaze on him smiling lovingly.

"Ethan needs a day off tomorrow," when you noticed that the party planner were demanding you gave her Ethan's phone number so she could organize everything with him rather than you, you just told them what you want the theme of your party.

He initially objected, after all, he is the toughest man. But he agreed simply because he likes you and he wants you to have the nicest and most memorable birthday celebration ever.

"Sure, anything you want." Even Ari is taking a day off tomorrow, he wants to spend it with you while business is calm nowadays.

"You spoil me a lot," you said, kissing his jaw. He smiled “that's the least I could do for you. honey"

"Thank you, I love you too much." You kissed him again. "I love you too."

"I’m leaving for a bit; I've got a business to take care of, and I’ll be back before the party starts."

"Why?" You pout. Is he going to skip your birthday? You know it was stupid. You shouldn’t have agreed. Maybe your parents is right; it is a waste of time.

"They need me there; it won’t take too long, maybe an hour max," he told you while curdling your face between his large hands and kissing your lips softly.

“You promise?” You smiled softly at him.

"Absolutely,I wouldn’t miss it for the world” he replied, you kissed him again.

“I’ll leave you now to finish, honey."

“Okay be careful”

“Always”

He left, and the girls returned to do their tasks. Wanda followed Nat into the room; it appears that your friends are already showing up, so you should finish quickly.

“Hey! Nat told me you invited Ema?” Wanda said as soon as she’s stepped beside you, “hello to you too” you turned to her smiling.

“Im sorry babe” she kissed your cheek before continuing “is it true?”

“Yes, i thought it would be rude to invite all of our friend group except her!”

Nat spoke looking at Wanda “told you”

“Yep, she’s tooooo nice” Wanda replied.

“I don’t know, Ari is inviting his friends and business partners, his mom and sisters are coming as well as their friends, so I think it would be crowded and she won’t be a bother!”

“I hope so” Nat said before looking at Wanda who was fixing her red dress, adjusting her breasts “what are you doing?”

“I’m gonna go see Ethan, wish me luck” Wanda and Ethan has been flirting a lot lately, you know they would end up together it was just a matter of time.

Everyone has arrived an hour and a half later, including your friends, Ari's friends, and family. Nat helped you dressing up in your pink gown, you wore your jewelry as well. Wanda is working as your personal photographer; she took many photos of you before you had to go downstairs so the party could begin.

When the DJ announced your entrance, everyone's eyes turned to you, yelling and clapping, while your eyes scanned the the place looking for Ari.

As soon as your gaze latched on him, you smiled brightly, relaxing for a while before getting down and everyone began to approach you, wishing you a happy birthday.

You were quite apprehensive because it was the first time you had ever been the center of attention at any form of event.

Nat gave you a microphone so you could thank everyone who came to celebrate with you, and you specifically thanked Ari, none of this would happened if it weren’t for him. You wished them a good evening.

After you handed the DJ the microphone, you felt like you were being crushed in a hug by someone, and when you looked down, you discovered it was Ari's younger sister, Amara.

“Happy Birthday!!!!!” She said screaming a bit. You laughed before hugging her back.

“Stop squeezing my girl to death” Ari teased his sister before greeting his mom and his older sister Sadie.

When Amara separated from you Sadie hugged you, as well as his mother.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart; i loved the party theme!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Levinson," you respectfully said. The elder woman scoffs at you, "sweetheart, we've been through this a lot! Please call me Freya; you make me feel old."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'll start calling you Freya," you said hesitantly, knowing she had told you that several times but you always forgot. Your mother taught you to never address someone by their first name; instead, use Mr. or Mrs.

Sadie looked around “are we finally going to meet your family?”

Your communication with your family has diminished since you left for college; you text and call, but they don't reach out to you as frequently as you would want. It's what they've wanted ever since you were born. To forget all about you.

You gave them an invitation to your party, but they did not respond. And when you called they didn’t pick up, No surprise.

You didn’t tell Ari that, you didn’t want him to feel sorry for you. But he can see it in your face when his sister mentioned your family.

“Oh they’re busy, they couldn’t make it!” You hoped your excuse was believed and by the look they gave you they did.

After a small talk they left to join other people for dance and chatting.

Ari left you alone for a minute to talk with his friends while you drank and danced with your friends.

Hours later, it was time to cut the cake, two servants brought the cake to a table in front of you. Ari hand wrapped around your waist while your hand was on top of his, him and everyone else singing happy birthday for you.

"Make a wish!" Nat called for you, and everyone else joined her, you giggled before closing your eyes and making a wish.

After opening your eyes and blowing on the candle, everyone clapped and whistled for you.

"I want to show you something," Ari whispered in your ear. You turned around, looking into his eyes. "What?"

"Come with me," he said, taking your hand a bit further and directing you to the double massive doors, which opened immediately.

A Rolls-Royce Ghost in Champagne Rose pulled in, you could hear the stunned screams of the people surrounding you; you were as surprised as they were.

“Oh my god!!, you didn’t!!!” You looked between Ari and the car, Ethan stepped out of the car, passing the keys to Ari, who handed them to you.

“All yours baby” you jumped on him, hugging him firmly, thanking him constantly “I love you i love you i love you!!”

Nat and Wanda came close to you both “girl you have to take us for a ride!!”

“I can’t wait to show off my first car ever!!” You smiled big and jumped up and down while clapping.

Wanda smiled “let me take pictures of you with the car!” She took her phone out and you got beside the car posing while she took a couple of pictures of you.

You grabbed Ari hand wanting him in the pictures. He smiled before letting you posing him in whatever way you wanted.

If he could, he would have given you the entire world without asking, but for the time being, he will give you anything your heart desire.

Life has its own way of repaying you. While you spent the previous twenty-three years begging someone to spare you a glance, right now you could ask for anything and it wouldn’t be trouble to give.

From behind, an irritating loud noise was heard. "I told you that he is her sugar daddy!!" Everyone fell silent, wondering who it was.

Your smile faded slightly; you weren't a particularly confrontational person to begin with. People would walk all over you while you excused them. You were too kind and too afraid to ever react to anyone.

“Who said that?" Ari stated calmly yet furiously, everyone got quiet surprised at the person who is brave enough to insult Ari’s girl

Wanda and Nat exchanged knowing glances. Finally, Ema made a fool of herself in front of Ari.

They know Ari doesn't accept disrespect, especially to those who don't deserve it, and to disrespect his girl? Oh, she just dug up her grave.

“Ema did," Nat answered, unconcerned about your glares.

Ari doesn't want to ruin your first birthday celebration, but he can't let this individual get away with it.

When he observed a girl who appeared shaking with fear, everyone's gaze was drawn to her, he knew it was her, and he approached her moved in front of her eye sight, almost nothing can stand between them.

"There are two reasons for saying this; one is that you are jealous because no one has ever loved you enough to provide you with something you desired, or YOU don't deserve to be loved or cared for like i do with my girl, I believe the latter it is," he said as calm as he can be

He could hear Wanda and Nat laughing mockingly at her. Finally, someone standing up to this bitch.

“Get the fuck out of my house and don't ever think of disrespecting my girl; or the next time you won't have a tongue to talk with; are we clear?" She nodded so quickly

“Good," he said, motioning for two of his guards to accompany her out; Bucky pointed out for the DJ to play some music to keep the party going.

Wanda yelled “ oh my god i love this song”

Her and Nat went dancing on the dance floor, while everyone else seemed to have forgotten what had happened and continued to have fun.

"Are you alright, sweetheart?" Ari spoke to you in hushed tones.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you replied, smiling back. "Do you know this is the first time I've seen you in your mob mode?"

“Really??” Ari was taken aback, saying, "I hope I didn't scare you."

"You did not, thank you for standing up for me; I really thought inviting her to my party would make her nice to me," you said, "I didn't want to divide our group into two sides."

"Sometimes, honey, being nice to someone so low is not the solution; if they don't respect you, they have to go; it's either they do or they don't." His huge hands comforted you by moving circles behind your back.

You thought for a moment about what he said "Yeah, you're right"

You got closer to him, your lips almost touching, "do you want to take my new car for a ride?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

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lizard-queen-izzy · 3 months

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OK! WE'RE DOING THIS!

Everyone shut up and sit down. I'm talking about TMA. I am listening through for the first time, I'm through S1 and halfway through S2, and I already have many Thoughts. Today, we will be focusing on my evil ship thoughts, because I missed my chance when this was coming out so now I will subject you all.

I know Jon and Martin get together at some point, and yknow, that's all fine and good.

BUT I WANNA TALK ABOUT JON AND TIM, OK?

There is so much potential for something there, and they would be so incredibly messy after the S1 finale.

[I've lightly scrolled through the jontim tag, and I truly don't think there's enough of you talking about how tragic they are. Platonic or romantic, they're so so sad.]

They both worked in the research department before Jon was made Head Archivist, and even though they definitely weren't close, they were definitely friendly. My Firm Belief is that Jon was the only one who took Tim seriously despite his more lax attitude, he saw his strong work ethic and his dedication and treated him accordingly. And Tim was the only one who listened to Jon, the only one who thought he had anything to add and took his suggestions.

I believe they were hired around the same time, and once they met there was a silent understanding that they were there for eachother. It was nice to just have someone in their corner in this new environment.

When Jon got promoted to Head Archivist, he was adamant about Tim being on his team, because he knew Tim would help get the results needed. [I have a whole, how everyone got assigned to the team timeline thought out but that's not why we're here]

Tim is the only member of his team who Jon doesn't think would have written Antonio Blake's statement as a joke to scare him. Which means he trusts him the most out of all of them. Which wouldn't be as important if he showed distaste for them equally, but he regards both Tim and Sasha highly, and only really seems to have an issue with Martin at this point. So why would he trust Tim to not have written it but not Sasha? Unless he's known him the longest and has reason to put that faith in him.

AND THEIR CONVERSATION AT THE BEGINNING OF MAG 33?? You're gonna listen to that, the first time we as the audience meet Tim, and tell me you don't hear how much these two care for eachother? Even when Jon starts getting upset/loud, he calms quickly for Tim, and doesn't let himself fully yell at him. He also leaves it up to Tim to fix the mistakes, an example of him trusting Tim's judgement and work. And Tim is so calm with him! The man keeps getting worked up and starting to get loud, but Tim stays calm and let's him self correct and say what he needs to before proceeding himself. He knows Jon is stressed and has a lot on his plate. He knows these mistakes needed to be discussed with him and corrected somehow, but he's still not going to force Jon to re-record the statements if he really doesn't want to, he's willing to find another solution. And then he leaves to go work on it so Jon can get back to recording the statement.

And Tim telling Jon he doesn't understand the filing system and Jon explaining it calmly to him, admitting he doesn't really get it either but that's how it is.

You also have to see my vision for how the S1 finale effects them. A traumatic experience where they were both scarred mentally and physically in the same ways. Something that should have brought them even closer, maybe finally made them feel comfortable being proper friends outside of work. But they both react to it SO differently. And that is the beginning of their downfall. That is the beginning of the end.

Because Jon spirals. He stops trusting everyone. He pushes them all away and starts crossing boundaries. HE SPIES ON TIMS HOUSE. And he can't even calm down long enough to see why this bothers his coworkers. Why this hurts Tim.

The beginning of S2 from Tim's perspective is awful. Your first friend in this workplace is overworking himself, throwing himself back into work the second he's cleared physically well enough to go back. But he clearly hasn't moved past it, and you can't blame him for that. Everyone copes differently, but then he turns on you. He stops trusting you, starts pushing you away, starts spying on you. Can you imagine how much that hurts? To have the first person in this terrifying new job who ever put their trust in you, who ever believed in you, to turn on you just when you need them the most.

THEY ARE SO FUCKING MESSY. GOD.

Anyway. I very well may be back with more JonTim thoughts as I continue to listen. But this is what I have for you today.

#tma #tma spoilers #tma season one #tma season 2 #jonathan sims #jon sims #tim stoker #timothy stoker #the magnus archives #archives gang #character thoughts #jontim #jonsims/timstoker #ramblings #Thoughts

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prettyboysdontlookatexplosions · 4 months

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i hope this isn't a weird ask, but i'm looking for some hope. i consider myself really fucking stupid. i don't think i have good "critical thinking" skills, or even good reading comprehension. do you think it's possible to get better at those things?

as i mentioned earlier, my answer is yes. as i also mentioned, i genuinely think that the fact that you are less than confident about your skills in these areas is itself valuable and not as common as it probably should be. i have worked with a fair number of kids, both in the elementary school classroom and in the upper grades for test prep stuff, whose reading comprehension isn't great, but who genuinely do not seem to notice there is anything off about their reading until they have to answer questions about it. they're in the habit of just glossing by a lot of stuff and not noticing. i have met kids who would swear to you they love to read who cannot accurately recount what actually happens in the scene they just read, but who seem pretty confident that what they're doing is reading. so if you're going around reading stuff and thinking, "hey, that's confusing" - congratulations! you are great at self-assessing your own comprehension. this is REALLY HARD for a lot of people to do.

i also think it's actually important to NOT think of either reading comprehension or critical thinking as a binary on/off switch, where you're either good at it or bad at it. both of these things are spectrums. in addition, both of these things are context dependent. there are a lot of things i have pretty good reading comprehension for. there are also types of text where my reading comprehension is straight-up bad: scientific papers published for other scientists to read; philosophy or literary theory of any kind; poetry. i tried to reread laura mulvey's original "male gaze" essay because i suspected people were using the concept wrong both in its favor, and i couldn't meaningfully follow its argument (although i think i am probably right because i don't really believe that many randos are so much better at interpreting freudian film theory than i am, lmao). these are all examples of texts where i don't have a lot of background knowledge in the subject area or a lot of experience reading this kind of thing. they are also mostly things i don't care enough about to put in the time and effort to get better at. (sometimes i think about trying to do this with poetry, but i have not prioritized this yet, to say the least.)

critical thinking also depends majorly on familiarity with a topic or at least with a field. i'll give you an example. on the podcast maintenance phase, the hosts attempt to apply critical thinking to common perceptions of scientific research. some of their points are good, and many of them sound convincing to me, a person who doesn't know a lot about science. but i soured on the podcast over time largely because on the subreddit for the show, an attempt at a scientific deep dive often brought at least one person who was like, "i have some expertise in this field and they are wrong." sometimes this is about interpreting a specific study (or, uh basic factual shit like the definition of a word), but a lot of times it's about big picture stuff that is hard to think about if you don't have experience in the field. one recent example that interested me was regarding a study done on ozempic. the hosts mentioned that in the trial, (iirc) two people died. sounds scary and not great! someone on reddit pointed out, though, that this was a very large study that recorded deaths for any reason - it's probably not statistically anomalous that two out of however many people died, and there's no evidence to indicate that ozempic had anything to do with it. i appreciated this science-minded redditor because i definitely listened to the episode and was like, wow! scary! but when i read that explanation i was like, oh, okay, yeah.

i am not any kind of expert, and i guess you didn't technically ask for advice, but here are some things that may or may not be helpful.

with regard to reading comprehension:

struggle is a normal part of reading, especially of reading complicated texts. if you are struggling with a text, it does NOT mean you "have bad reading comprehension" or are fucking up. it indicates you have good self-awareness about your own level of comprehension.

i don't have research on this one. this is speculation. but my hunch is that for people who have a certain baseline level of reading comprehension, reading things that are challenging to understand over time increases the amount of stuff you can read easily. i was definitely better at reading books by historians at the end of my history degree than i was at the start. and honestly, i was also better at it after i spent like a year obsessively reading books about new york city history than i was when i graduated!

related to that, it's okay to understand something mostly but not all the way!

it's also okay to determine your own goals for understanding, and spend your time appropriately! i have a terrible visual imagination so to really fully "comprehend" any passage in any novel that describes the layout of a room, i would have to get a notebook out and draw it. i'm not gonna do that. (weirdly, though, i often love reading that shit anyway, haha.)

there is a lot of research out there emphasizing the importance of background knowledge to comprehension. (natalie wexler has written a book about this i haven't read, along with some articles i have read.) the scary way to look at this link is, "oh no, how can i learn all the things i need to know?" the awesome and exciting way to look at it is, every time you learn something, it widens the circle of things you can read, which means it widens the circle of things you can learn about, which means you can keep leaning.

you can also google stuff. one time i was confused by a book's explanation of a government policy so i googled and found some articles that covered it in more detail. (and also discovered that the specific example the book had used had been phased out of the law by the time it was published, lol.)

there are some strategies that have been found to increase reading performance, but the research around these is mostly around them as teaching strategies. my favorite reading guy timothy shanahan has speculated that the thing the strategies all have in common is they're ways of getting kids to actually pay attention when they read. the main strategy i think has value for people who want to get better at reading on their own is summarizing. every so often, take a moment to put into your own words what you've just read. how often will depend on what you are reading and how challenging it is. every paragraph is a often a good benchmark for something dense, especially as you are getting used to reading like this. every page or every chapter might be more appropriate for something like a novel. there have been times when i've done this sentence by sentence because something was really fucking dense! (a general note: this can also help people who feel their reading comprehension is mostly fine but have a lot of trouble remembering what they read. when i started doing this kind of thing consciously it improved my recall a lot, and i had a decent memory for textual information to begin with.) (if you REALLY want a power-up, taking notes is great, but most people understandably don't want to do this for their recreational reading.) over time there is also a good chance that you'll start doing this more fluidly and automatically as you read and not have to choose to do it consciously as much. but if not that's ok!

a strategy that is not always a natural fit for reading on your own but can be useful for certain kinds of reading is setting yourself questions to answer and then seeing if you can answer them. obviously, this typically makes more sense as a teaching strategy because how can you know what a text will contain until you read it? but there are times you can make a pretty educated guess, or stick to a really basic thing like "what is [thing this is promising to explain]?" i once picked up a particular NYC history book because it had been cited somewhere else as containing an account of the consolidation for the five boroughs. it was a really dense book and i decided that while i probably wouldn't retain many of the details its covered, i really wanted to learn from this book the author's answer to why the boroughs became one. four years later i still remember most of the reasons he gave! (harbor maintenance; economic competition with other large cities; a belief in some quarters that brooklyn would be a good influence on the manhattan political machine; i think there was one or two more but i'm 95% sure those were the ones cited as being most important.)

look up words! honestly tutoring has made ME realize how many words out there i "sort of" know but can't provide great definitions for, lol. a site i always recommend for my students doing vocab is learnersdictionary.com, which is by the encyclopedia britannica people and aimed for kids. it's a pretty full dictionary, but the definitions, while still accurate, are a lot more "user-friendly" than most dictionary definitions, which can be technical in a way that makes them less than illuminating.

for critical thinking:

honestly at LEAST half your battle is won. the main error i see people make in the realm of critical thinking is believing they are qualified to assess information they are not in fact qualified to do. the name of the game is humility.

i think my own critical thinking skills have really benefited from times when i've been able to read multiple perspectives on a fairly narrow topic. when i was in my NYC history era (i really gotta get back on that train), one thing i did was that every time i finished a book, i popped over to JSTOR to see if any scholars had reviewed it. i specifically wanted scholarly reviews because those are the people who can point out things i would NEVER have thought of because i did not have their years of expertise. for example, i read this one jill lepore book that was... fine... but there was a review of it that was like, "it's weird that based on her sources she didn't consult the largest and most important archive related to this place during this period, and as a result is mistaken about how common or uncommon certain things she describes are." i have never heard of that archive so i am glad someone pointed that out!

you can't always do that, obviously, and also sometimes you don't want to. but i think doing that regularly for a while helped me increase my intellectual humility and build the habit of filing things i read as "interesting if true" while leaving room for the fact that maybe they're not. (honestly the maintenance phase subreddit felt like a podcast version of this, lol, and i appreciated it a lot!)

idk. there is a fad these days for teaching "critical thinking skills"; as i mentioned in the post i assume prompted this, there is also debate about whether this is even a thing. in grad school, i felt like i saw a lot of people who had learned to mimic what they thought of as critical thinking by asking things like, "what about kids who belong to [a particular underrepresented group]?" or "how does the author have bias?" and those are good questions to ask, but knowing to ask those questions is not the same as thinking critically. if i were to try to give a shorthand question that guides my own attempts to think critically, it would be something like, "how does this person establish that what they claim to be true is actually true?" the sources they use are part of this, yes, but, again, asking "what about the sources???" is not, in and of itself, critical thinking. you also have to think about things like, "they go from this idea to that idea, but does idea 2 actually follow from idea 1?" and the number one bias you have to watch out for is your own.

i want to state again here that this is not a binary and the goal is not to be good at it, it's to keep getting better. years ago, i read an article in the atlantic by a professor of math education about the importance of counting on one's fingers in early math. i was like, wow, that's so cool and interesting. i had a first grader who was really struggling with some very basic stuff, and i did some exercises from the article with him because i thought they might help. maybe three years later, if that, i came across the article again, because i had just looked up something else by the author and been like, "wait, what? this seems blatantly not factual?" i remembered that i had liked this thing she had said about finger-counting, and i went back to try to figure out if that one had been better or if i had been mistaken, and i was, like, horrified that the atlantic had printed this and that i had once read it and nodded along like "so true bestie." the article was full of leaps in logic that sounded good but weren't actually supported at all. i'm sharing this story because if you feel like you are bad at critical thinking.... like, me too, sometimes!!!!! everyone is!!!!! if someone tells you they are super awesome at critical thinking all the time, that person is a fucking idiot and you shouldn't trust them for shit!!!!!

one other thing i can't not address: i once not too long ago made a post to the effect of "my life got a lot better when i accepted the possibility of being stupid," so i did not want to harp on this off the bat or too strongly for fear of being a hypocrite, lol, and i don't want to argue with you, a total stranger, about your perception of yourself, because i am allergic to people doing that to me. however, i would feel wrong not to mention that the specific phrasing and language you use in your ask suggests to me that when you think of yourself as "really fucking stupid," there is likely a significant emotional component in that belief and the emotions that it brings up in you, and i would be pretty surprised if it were not at least partly a reflection of your general relationship with yourself. i am telling you this because it reminds me of the way that i used to think about myself in my brain. i reliably performed well academically when i wasn't having a nervous breakdown, but i thought of myself as deeply stupid until mid twenties. there are a couple of factors i can point to regarding why i don't feel that way anymore, but by far the biggest, i think, is just that i don't hate myself the way i used to. thinking of myself as stupid in the particular vitriolic way your ask reminded me of was never actually about my smarts or lack thereof. it was just a manifestation of my deep and painful self-loathing. so i encourage you to cultivate a way of being kind to yourself, of forgiving yourself, of letting go of the shame you might be carrying about your skills or about other things that might seem unrelated. my final answer to your question is that there's hope for your capacity to grow, but it's also okay for you to be where you are. this is about reading, but it's also about everything else.

finally, if you are confused about anything i've written here, feel free to ask for clarification. i am good with words and i've tried to be clear, but one of the writing-related skills i suck MOST at is being able to gauge whether or not i have written something in a needlessly confusing way, lmao.

#askbox

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suzannahnatters · 4 months

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I've cranked through the first half of Love Like the Galaxy in under a week and I REGRET NOTHING: how fast can I put myself outside this gloriously mature and well written Jane Austen style comedy of manners with intermittent murder. Reactions to the first 12 eps under the cut because wow I verbose when I happy

I'm 3 eps into Love Like the Galaxy and while "becoming thoroughly absorbed by Chinese Jane Austen" was not on my bingo list I'll take it.

I have trust issues with cdramas after watching GOODBYE MY PRINCESS which was the drama equivalent of the kind of dude who says 'heh heh I like a girl with spirit' but I do really love what they're doing with Niao Niao and how she's had to survive her awful aunt and grandmother (who are like Mrs Norris and Mrs Bennet, respectively) by becoming calculating, distrustful, selfish and utterly devoted to her own cause

LOVED the moment in ep3 where she tries to show her mother, who's this strict Confucian parent, the sort of nonsense she's had to put up with for years by subjecting her to the evil wiles of Aunt Norris and Grandma Bennet, she just outright pointed out the double standards her mother is operating by

anyway we shall see how things turn out! I'm finding the grounded visuals very nice too - everyone's not caked in makeup and jewels all the time, they look very comfy and believable.

oh my the softly besotted look on Torture General's face when he sees her carriage going by

he hasn't seen her face yet, he just knows she's cold, unfilial, and utterly calculating and he's fallen for her for all the reasons that everyone else reproaches her for

episode 6 of LLTG: a dispute over a writing desk has made me cry. what

This whole scene with the dreadful mother holding court and Niao Niao defending herself - so ably that she beings her brothers and cousin to take her side against her mother - GAH this is AMAAAAAZING

I adore that they don't have anyone fingerwagging at our girl to tell her that actually her mother is doing these toxic things because she deep down cares about her (aHEM, My Journey To You) - they're just being really clear that it's all dreadfully unfair.

I also love that the toxic mother is a sword-wielding warrior woman. She's so heroine-coded??? while also being a terrible person? amazing! I love the unexpectedness of it!

snerk I love this celebrity scholar deciding to Bestow a Mark of His Favour upon our girl and she tosses it right back at him

this Prince Xiao enters twirling moustaches he doesn't even have, wow

laughing my head off at the Big Romantic Rescue complete with cape SWOOOOOOOSH

this is great. I feel like I'm watching a faintly swoony BBC adaptation of a lost Jane Austen novel

also I take it back, Niao Niao isn't selfish at all - she's just realised that if she doesn't fight for herself then no one else will. But she's not making it an excuse to be unfair or horrible to her perfect cousin, even though it would be the most understandable thing in the world

I love her, she deserves the world

ep7: I've only known Wan QiQi two minutes and I would die for her

is it just me or is this smug scholar precisely the type of man we've all come across??? NN not giving him the time of day is EVERYTHING

Third Aunt giving Third Uncle a shave: what a scene. God bless cdramas. Also, the extent to which there is a whole epic romance cdrama happening somewhere in the backstory here is AMAZING

Also: QiQi is a showy kind of BFF to have - showing up late to the party in a bright red dress and instantly pillaging the birthday gifts she brought the princess to deck you out in earrings? chef's kiss - but I'm also SO appreciative of how they're treating Yang Yang! That moment at the banquet early in the episode where Niao Niao, who can't even read, says, somewhat hurt and pettish, "I don't need to learn ANYTHING! I'm good just as I am!" and Yang Yang says, "Yes, you are!" despite being a bookworm since birth? I LOVE THEM

ahaha NN gives a speech shaming the snobby aristocratic girls for looking down on the daughter of a general, and being extravagant, and don't they know all this bounty is due to the emperor and his generals? feels like the show is buying the right to critique filial piety by kissing up to the state

the statism is the one thing I've disliked about the show so far (also didn't think much of NN snitching on her great-uncle) but that's pretty much a constant in Chinese media except for one wuxia novel I read years ago (BaiFa MoNu Zhuan/Legend of the White Haired Maiden), so onward…

"I'm Eleventh Young Master who has admired you for a long time" sHriEKing

he looks so happy too

GO NIAO NIAO BITE HER

Deeply enamoured of the way General Wan has the features and mannerisms of an animated Disney villain

"why is that unlucky person still here? he seems like a lingering ghost" impeccable "Lizzie Bennet wonders why she keeps bumping into Mr Darcy on her daily walk, after she specifically told him this was where she walked daily" energy

well I did not think the show could make me sympathise with the toxic mum, but it did, by dint of showing that the dad is intentionally playing good cop so he can enjoy his daughter's adoration while he encourages her mum to beat her???

I really hope the cruddy dad experiences the consequences of his actions here but even more than that, I'm amazed that the show has found a way to make us sympathise for the bad mum as a person without trying to make her less bad

I'm just in awe of the writing here - it's SO deft and able.

ah, this must be the bamboo forest where they store action scenes - and I LOVE that the band of lady bodyguards gets to stomp the bandits when a lesser show would use this opportunity to bring on the hero and his army of goth henchmen

aw yess! our girl is strategising their way out! It's so delightful to me - this is precisely the kind of leadership/strategy role asian dramas rarely allow to their female characters

now she's getting to command a siege!?!?! all on her own?

and then castigating herself for not being able to save everybody! BABY

on to ep12, which I have heard people cite as the Point Where The Show Gets Good, and given the fact that I've already been elmo on fire dot gif for eleven episodes I'm not entirely sure what everyone else has been drinking but sure! let's see what lies herein

oh this is the GOOD stuff

yes yes, the big rescue, the arrow pulling, all good…what really gets me is that when our girl wants to see the mass execution and Murder General holds her back, it's not bc he's patronising her, it's bc he knows she needs to hear that AhMiao's death was not her fault

this show is justifying tropes I didn't even know COULD be justified…inCREDible

Third Uncle has two braincells and my whole heart

the only thing better than the look of sheer naked yearning on Murder General's face every time he sees Niao Niao or anything tangentially related to her is his determination never to let on how he feels to his two henchmen, who have known since episode two and are eager to help

Murder General hoarding hankies, bits of string, and pencil-ends that belong to Niao Niao like Harriet Smith hoarding Mr Elton memorabilia in EMMA

#love like the galaxy #cdrama #lltg #asian drama #ling buyi #cheng shaoshang

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depressed-simp-writes · 1 year

Text

fuck it im having omegaverse brain rot again rn

Finally

alpha!bayojeanne x gn!omega!reader

They never thought it would happen, yet there you stand your sweet sent engulfing their senses.

Summary: Bayonetta and Jeanne have been searching for their omega for years. Learning they were fated mates caused quite a stir in covenant hundreds of years ago which started the search but as time passed they soon gave up. Especially with the encroaching war and Bayonetta being sealed away, and Jeanne dying with her soul being sent to inferno. Finding the one who would complete them became a distant memory, a goal lost in time, at least to Jeanne, Bayonetta wants to try again, after feeling a certain yearning for the past few months suddenly.

warnings: omegaverse, nsfw thoughts but no smut....yet, heats and ruts mentioned.

It was a warm spring day and Bayonetta and her mate Jeanne were traversing the city from store to store as they did on their days off.

They passed by and alpha/omega pair and a twinge of jealousy was felt through them. Though they had given up the search for their fated omega years ago it still hurt knowing they'd never get to help with a drop or during a heat. sure they help eachother with their ruts but it left something to be desired from time to time.

Of course Bayonetta knew why Jeanne was so hesitant and she didnt want to push her into it. After getting her memory back and breaking Jeanne's mind control she wanted to only focus on the other alpha for awhile. Hearing the loneliness her Jeanne felt broke her, and after nearly losing her to inferno she only wanted to focus on Jeanne but its been years and the desire for your fated ones never goes away until you are complete. No matter how much you stamp it down.

The moment passed as quickly as it came and they resumed their walk going to another store. "you know Jeanne, i think sometimes we should restart the search for our omega" Bayonetta said examining herself in the mirror as she tries on an extravagant hat. Jeanne turns from her place looking over the scarfs to look at her mate "oh dont be so ridiculous Ceraza, we'll never find them. How do we know they're even alive?" she brought up a good point. Bayonetta considered it. "You're right but I think it wouldnt hurt to try." she also had a good point. They dropped the subject for now, deciding instead to talk about the items, before going back to their shared appartment.

"you get so sentimental when your rut gets closer" Jeanne said as Bayonetta placed a warm kiss on her mating mark that sat proudly on Jeannes neck, Just below her ear. Bayonetta hummed in response "You're right, but still it would be nice to have an omega to protect, to fuck, to love" she said moving to straddle Jeanne who looked up at her black hair lover. They had been discussing the proposition over and over again since it was brought up in the store. "Let me think more about it, but you are right" Jeanne asked. she spent so long alone while Bayonetta was sealed away that she tried to find their third in the mean time but kept coming up empty. It was soul crushing for her during that time and she didnt want to go through that again. It might be easier now with her Ceraza by her side. Not as disappointing because now she would have someone to hold still during the nights when the world seemed colder and darker than before.

"Think about it as long as you want, my love, but i hope to do consider it, Ive felt a yearning for a few months now and i know you have as well, it just feels different now, like they're close" Bayonetta says, she was right about Jeanne feeling a yearning.

Jeanne looked up at her and sighed "I do feel it" it felt like she was going burst. she's hasnt felt this since before her and Ceraza were mated. she knew it meant they were close but she didnt want to be disappointed again. her own fear was standing in her way. especially since that feeling came and went.

They decided to get ready for the day as Jeanne started to get quiet and Bayonetta didnt want to push, they had talked about this topic many times but this time it was different. she understood Jeanne's hesitation despite the feeling of their mate being close. with that feeling coming and going over the past few months was concerning, it meant their mate was moving around and what if one day they never came back. Thats why she wants to find them.

Bayonetta went to the gates of hell to meet with Rodin about a job he had for her. Jeanne left to go to her day job at a school, as they both decided to meet for Dinner at a newish restaurant in town they hadnt tried yet.

After finishing beating up angels at another mobsters funeral she was meant to oversee she freshened up at home before going to the restaurant where Jeanne was waiting for her outside.

Upon entering the restaurant they were hit with a delicious fruity sweet sent. Definitely omega. All omegas smelt sweet. This one however smelt sweeter. They looked at eachother in disbelief, they were close. they're omega was either here or frequented the place.

They were lead to a table by a waitress, not their mate but a very cute omega regardless.

they looked over the menus but couldnt focus as the scent of gummy candy invaded their nostrils. they stumbled through their drink orders finding it incredibly hard to focus.

Abandoning the menus they looked around the place not seeing anyone looking as effected as them. if they could smell their omega their omega could smell them, Bayonetta's chocolate scent and Jeanne cinnamon scent but no one else was looking around.

some time passed as the pair grew increasingly frustrated with the fact they couldnt see their mate. they managed to order but neither ate anything. they were going to leave and come back thinking they frequented this place often but wasnt there at the moment, when an omega slammed through the kitchen door causing a loud bang. they were quite cute. they had s/c and h/l and h/c. their eyes scanned the dining room. they looked frazzled like they had been stressing. An alpha followed behind them and trying to talk them back into the kitchen. they werent wearing anything a cook would were. they were wearing (preferred outfit), not very suitable for restaurant work, especially one of this setting.

The omega ignored the concerned ramblings of the alpha as their eyes landed on the pair of witches. they gave a small smile before looking quite scared? and running back into the kitchen. the entire dining room had turned when the doors slammed open. everyone started whispering about what that could've been.

Bayonetta and Jeanne looked at eachother concerned and without talking agreed on their next move. Both slipped away to the bathroom. Normally they dont care who sees them use their powers as they slip into purgatorio but usually theres a lot of commotion and destruction happening. in quiet situations like these it would raise alarm if 2 women summoned glowing portals and then disappeared.

once in purgatorio, they made their way into the kitchen where their mate was hiding. the room was bustling with cooks working and the chef moving through looking over work.

The pair of alphas made their way to back where the scent of fruity candy was the strongest. the loading dock. there the omega was sitting seemingly having a panic attack as the alpha who had been behind them was trying to calm them. the scene angered the pair, Jeanne moreso than Bayonetta who wanted to listen in so she stopped Jeanne from doing anything.

"i told you not to go out there y/n" the alpha said, "you told me you werent ready yet and that you didn't want to be with an alpha, and as your brother its my job to protect you" he continued.

the omega looked up "their smells are overwhelming, i couldn't control myself, i needed to see, they're beautiful, i dont know what to do b/n, i think im gonna drop, i want them to be here but they're gonna reject me, i just know it" they said trying to calm themself but finding it increasingly difficult.

"what do you need" b/n asked. "i need them but" "how about some juice? and im sure they wont reject you, take a drink, calm down and then you'll go introduce yourself, im sure theyre still out there trying to figure out whats wrong ok?" the omega nodded starting to calm.

"they're scared of us" said Bayonetta looking to Jeanne. Jeanne looked statue still gazing at their mate. she wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch them.

In hundreds of years, They never thought it would happen, yet there you stand your sweet sent engulfing their senses.

Just as they were going to turn back and go into the restaurant to wait for you to come to them, the heavens started to sing as those winged pests Affinity approached.

the alphas made an annoyed sound as they summoned weapons.

Before either of the witches could react one of the morons swooped in and grabbed their omega from where they sat. which effectively managed to scare the poor thing enough they pass out.

The pair wasted no time jumping into action beating down the angels faster than they could ready their weapons. The 2 were fueled by the anger of these pests thinking they could put their hands on whats theirs.

eventually they got through the other angels. now focusing their attention to the one holding their omega who had yet to regain consciousness.

Jeanne rushed it while Bayonetta waited to catch their mate, having stepped out of purgatorio to do so.

They fell right into Bayonetta's arms who immediately went down to her knees so she could cuddle them close easier. Once Jeanne finished ripping apart the last Affinity she joined her mates.

The pair was in awe of the omega still cuddled close to Bayonetta's chest. Jeanne reached out hesitantly as if they would disappear if she moved to fast, and touch their cheek gently.

They started to stir, coming to. y/n opened their eyes which were unfocused at first. when having refocused they saw the two alphas looking at them warmly and concerned. they sat up out of Bayonetta's hold and looked at the two of them. "w-what are you two doing here? how did you get back here? was i in the air???" the omega rattled off question after question before the warm scent of Jeannes cinnamon and the rich chocolate of Bayonetta calmed them.

they let the alphas bring them back into their hold. "we'll tell you everything in due time, little one" bayonetta said trying stroking their hair.

soon enough the omega was calmly sleeping and they went back into purgatorio just as y/n's brother came back through the door holding a few bottles of juice, "i forgot to what juice you wanted, then dad wanted to talk to me sorry it took so long-" he stopped looking at the sleeping form of his sibling.

The pair of alphas made their way back to a place they could quietly come out of purgatorio.

Before long their omega left the kitchen calmly and came over properly introducing themself. the three mates had a lovely conversation, the only mention of the back was when the omega said they had a dream about them as they came out of their drop. the two apologized for not being there as the omega assured them it was ok and they're the one who ran away.

Eventually the three parted ways with phone numbers exchanged. they talked through the night on the phone, lets be for real. as their omega wanted to take things slow. the two witches didnt show their disappointment but they waited hundreds of years, they could wait a few months, plus its not like they dont know who their mate is anymore.

finally.

gonna do a part 2, thats gonna be mostly smut. i would've done it in this part but i couldn't get a good flow to do that. gonna do some headcanons also of all the characters just bc why not. even if i dont write for those characters. hope you enjoyed and that it wasnt awful, im very rusty when it comes to writing stories and i also have never been good at writing stories i feel like.

#bayonetta fanfiction #bayonetta x reader #bayonetta x jeanne #bayojeanne #jeanne x reader #bayonetta jeanne #alpha!bayonetta #alpha!jeanne #omega!reader #gn!reader #omegaverse #bayonetta omegaverse

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