#of course there were many but there are catalysts and then there are nothing-people

[craycraybluejay]

If I wanted to, I could, and worse, you would let me

#and my delusions and aches need healing #and i need you #to love me enough for me not to want to force my love on you #and my rational mind wherever it is knows you do it knows it does #it knows #but. the irrational mind wants some kind of Proof #it wants to force to feed to get inside and look around #nothings ever enough for me i want inside #soft and warm like the womb #you know it #the sick me wants you to somehow prove everything ever #proof of love. proof that im not the only monster. proof of protection of care of empathy of trust of acceptance #its never enough but to be fair you and i both know who made me this way #of course there were many but there are catalysts and then there are nothing-people #prove it to me #i look at you and i feel like youre slipping away someone else has their guts on you someone else has convinced you they are worth your tim #but theyre pathetic and not poetic about it. weak and spineless. they USE YOU to make themselves look strong they USE YOU to talk shit at t #they are useless so they use you like me. and i know i cannot rush it cannot learn your lessons for you #i can't convince you of whats dangrous or cruel until you live it until it breaks your golden heart #but i wish i could protect you from all that somehow #and too i wish a million years would pass and you were as dark as me and as kind as you #its selfish but i hate to see you truly hurt i hate it. it makes me so violently angry. my brain turns off i cant help it #you hurt so Easy you're so very soft but every tiny cruelty that hurts you i want to completely erase off this earth #i dont care if its alive if its helpless if it doesnt know better i dont care if it didnt mean to all i want to do is prove to you show you #keep you safe and cared for #its irrational. i'd put away honour and hurt someone weaker than me if it made you happy if it made you feel safe #i wish i could eliminate the real threat but i cant im trying #you make me crazy and you make me feel normal and simple and human. i know everything about you-- i want to know more #my irrational brain doesn't even register accepted right and wrong only what it considers significant and important. my rational brain read #it like a million page rulebook. be normal be good don't hurt anyone don't get dead don't act before you think

[cordeliawhohung]

i’m going feral for shy!reader x mafia!underboss simon like i need him flirting with her at johns club and her blushing hard at him lighting touching her cheek but also she doesn’t really know how to flirt and is getting all flustered but he enjoys watching her get flustered while there’s a crowd of people around them

oh i've had an idea about this brewing in my mind for a bit and i'm so glad that i can use you a catalyst to make it everyone else's problem <3 think of this as a part 2 to this drabble here

mafia!141 masterlist

warnings: fem!reader, fluff and flirting, some tension, mentions of alcohol/club settings, reader is too shy for her own good lmao, short-ish drabble/oneshot

The very appearance of the building in front of you spoke volumes, warning you to turn around and run away while you still could. Dark, thumping music sounded more like an alarm than it did something to dance to, and the stench of alcohol was strong even from outside. To make things worse, you were very much out of your depth not only in location, but in the clothes you wore. Some short, scantily dress your friend insisted you borrow from her because a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt simply wouldn't do in a place as high profile as her husband's club. You tried to feel confident, or at least appear so. Tried to straighten your back and relax your face as if you were above everything in that building, but you were never very good at pretending.

However, nothing was worse than the fact Simon fucking Riley stood outside the door to greet the two of you. At first, you almost didn't recognize him with the face mask on and the long sleeves covering his tattoos, but you'd recognize those eyes of his anywhere. So dark in the dim lighting that attempted to illuminate the area outside of the club, you knew you would get lost in them if you stared at them too long.

"Evening, ladies," he greeted. His voice was all too familiar, and you tried not to think about how you still felt his breath on your ear when he taught you how to shoot pool.

"Riley," your friend whined, "don't tell me John sent you."

He crossed his arms over his chest, and you found yourself having to look away from how his biceps bulged with the movement. "Boss's orders."

"So much for girls night," she muttered.

"Don't worry 'bout it," he assured while his eyes flickered to you. "You won't even know I'm here."

And he was right. Mostly, anyway. Once he led the two of you into the building, up past the lower level and up into the elevated and sparsely dense VIP section of the bar, Simon had pretty much blended in with the shadows. You and your friend were unbothered while you enjoyed your free drinks (thanks to either John or Simon, you didn't know for sure) all while you tried to ignore the fact you were in your a place that utterly terrified you.

Of course, all good things had to come to an end. Eventually John emerged from somewhere in the mass of bodies that surrounded you, and your friend, who was more than a little tipsy by that point, hung off of his arm within an instant. And it was kind of cute, watching the way John rested his hands on her hips while she tried to make him dance with her. Yet, at the same time, you got secondhand embarrassment from it, so you averted your gaze as you looked down at the dance floor on the lower level. There were so many people packed together, jumping and dancing to the music, that it looked like a pulsing mass of flesh. The sight of it mixed with the alcohol in your stomach and you started to feel queasy.

"Wanna get some fresh air?"

You hadn't even realized Simon had walked up to you until he was right next to you, arms resting on the railing that separated you from becoming a messy stain on the lower level.

"Huh?" you asked, not because you hadn't heard him, but because you were somewhat perplexed by his offer.

Though his mouth was covered by that black medical mask, you could still see his smirk crinkle the corner of his eyes. Before he explained any further, his hand gently reached up where he grazed his thumb along the flesh of your cheek. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you found yourself utterly frozen by the gesture. You tried not to think about how warm his hand was on your skin, or how your stomach fluttered at his touch just like it had the last time his skin had grazed yours. As you tried to hold back a shiver, you silently prayed no one was looking at the two of you.

"Thought we could give the lovebirds over here some alone time," he finally continued as he pulled his hand away from your face. He flicked his middle finger along the flesh of his thumb, as if he had taken something on your face and was getting rid of it, but since he didn't even bother to look at his hand before doing so, you couldn't help but wonder if there had even been something on your face to begin with.

God, it was fucking hot in that building, and the cool night air was a welcomed feeling on your exposed skin. Towards the back of the VIP section was the entrance to the terrace, where plenty of people still mingled about, but it was significantly more quiet than inside. Simon led you underneath the hanging lights over to a dark corner where the railing looked too sketchy to be safe or up to code.

"You smoke?" Simon asked as he dug his hand into the pocket of his jeans.

You watched him carefully as he took out a pack of smokes and started beating the bottom of the carton against the palm of his hand. His fingers wrapped around the object with ease, and you swallowed hard as you shook your head.

"Good," he hummed as he removed his mask and lazily shoved it into his pocket, "don't start."

You didn't mean to stare, and you really hoped he didn't notice, but it was impossible for you to tear your eyes away from him. How could anyone expect you to when the cigarette sat so perfectly between his lips while he lit it? It only got worse when he held it limply between his fingers and exhaled the smoke out into the night air.

"You look good," he commented as he nodded his head at you.

"Oh, uhm," you muttered in surprise. You stared down at yourself and the obnoxiously sequined dress your friend insisted you wore and self consciously pulled at the skirt. "Thanks. I'm, uh, just borrowing the dress."

He hummed as he placed the cigarette between his lips again. "You'd still look good despite it."

This was strange. Something you weren't used to. Being complimented. Having someone look at you in a way that made your stomach churn, and it only got worse the longer you stood there speechless. And you tried to come up with a response, but the wider his smirk became, the harder it was for you to formulate a sentence.

And god, he wouldn't look away from you, like his eyes were stuck on you for the rest of eternity. Not even as he stepped closer to you. It felt like he was the sun, and the closer he got the warmer you felt until you were rendered breathless. He was so... close and just so... fuck. Fuck you wished he'd stop looking at you like that. Like he wanted to eat you alive, like he wanted to devour you, like-

"We should go back inside." The words left your mouth, no matter how hard you tried to hold them back. It was all too much at once, between the crowd of people, how flustered this man made you; all of it was too much.

"Right," Simon hummed. "Should make sure Mrs. Price isn't getting in too much trouble," he teased.

Yet, neither of you moved. Simon raised the cigarette to his mouth again and took a long drag of it. Instead of turning his head to the side to exhale, he leaned his head back and let the smoke drift up and out of his mouth. And you were stunned, eyes locked on him as he did so, too captivated by the skin of his throat and the curve of his Adam's apple to look away. Then his head rolled back down where his eyes found you once again and his lips pulled into that signature smirk he could never seem to wipe off when he was around you.

He gestured towards the door that led back inside of the club as he flicked the ash off of his cigarette. "After you, sweetheart."

writing this gave me the worst thoughts ever. what if shy!reader is a virgin? someone needs to sedate me at this point. hope y'all enjoyed more of our boy :3

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #mafia!ghost #mafia!simon #mafia!141 #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

[auteurdefeu]

We all know Alastor is great at seeing what people want most, what they fear, how their emotions can so easily be played. It’s how he got Charlie to make the deal when she knew she shouldn’t. He’s so good at knowing how to make people vulnerable and get under their skin.

There’s just so much ammo for Lucifer when he shows up. An absentee father, an even worse king, his entire family cast him from his home to burn forever and then his wife left him too, the one who was known for being capable. The fact Charlie is naive enough to see Alastor as a father figure as well just perfectly plays into it, and from the start, it seems so easy to get to Lucifer of all people. Someone who’s supposed to be so great, so easy to crumble with his ego and emotions.

Those initial interactions were a shock to Lucifer’s system. How dare a sinner speak to him with such open disrespect? What choice did he have but to fight fire with fire? (read: song battle)

But then the surprise of it all starts wearing off. He knows to expect it. He saw how broken Alastor was after fighting Adam, a reminder of just how fragile sinners’ souls are compared to that of a fallen seraphim. At the same time, Charlie had happily accepted Lucifer back into her life as her father. It’s not going to erase the years spent apart and his struggles with depression, but it’s a start. And he knows Alastor’s no real threat to him.

So at some point, Alastor’s jabs start being met with casualty, almost dismissively. It shifts from a playful annoyance like calling him short to something… well, cutting deeper. He doubles down upon how Lucifer abandoned his daughter, all so that he could hide with his toys, making himself a fool in his own nation.

Lucifer’s just making coffee. Saying that’s probably true, but Charlie is a kind soul who let him back into her life.

Not the reaction Alastor wanted again. So he pressed further, even blaming this dismissive attitude he had now as being why Lilith left. How could she have ever loved a man too scared to engage. She was always at the forefront of the show while he was too busy being buried in shame to be an even decent partner.

“One of many reasons, I’d guess”

It really irritates Alastor how much this isn’t getting to him. Lucifer had come to the hotel a terribly insecure man, so easy to mess with. And now, nothing?

Over the course of a week or so he keeps trying. And Lucifer just isn’t reacting. He cannot for the life of him figure out why. He knows everything he mentions is still an upset, it’s obvious in the way he talks with other people or the things he avoids, but it’s like he has some sort of verbal armor to Alastor’s attempts at drawing out a reaction from him.

The sad truth just ends up being that, whatever Alastor says, Lucifer’s said worse about himself. He’s had years to find every little detail about himself that could’ve been the catalyst for Lilith leaving, every little trait she likely despised for centuries, tearing apart the blurring memories of her face to see which expressions were genuine. Either everything about him, every step he’s made wrong, everything he’s lost or been forced to give up, he has a list of 20 things minimum as to why it’s all his fault. Alastor’s brutality is a toddlers insult compared to the things he thinks about himself.

The devil is madly depressed and just vibing his way through life ❤️

#he’s truly such a girlfailure #I’m loopy on sleepy meds and I’m sure none of this makes sense #Hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #Alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #charlie mange #charlie morningstar #lucilith #lucifer x lilith #radioapple #appleradio #duckiedeer

[totallyhextra]

People? In MY computer?? It's more likely than you think!

The following is a fanvertisment and is not connected to the show. ****Yet.*** *Also yes, this is the fourth time I'm posting this because TUMBLR WONT LET ME EDIT SPELLING MISTAKES!

ANYWAY,

Once upon a time, back in 1987, Dire Straits put out this music video for “Money for Nothing”, which, as you know, was a song about wanting my MTV. 

The video was made by two guys (Gavin Blair and Ian Pearson) on a very moody computer. After the video went out, these two guys went to a pub:

Ian: “Hey, we should make a whole show like this!”

Gavin: “Dude, making three minutes almost killed us.”

And so it was decided!🎉

The two guys were joined by two other guys (Phil Mitchell and John Grace) and created the Hub, which then became Mainframe Entertainment. They got even more people, and then they all holed up in this hotel.

They were mad lads with a dream: a whole cgi animated show, and they made it happen a whole year before Toy Story!

Behold! ReBoot!

(Yes that fever dream was real)

Now before I get any of this:

Let me lay this down. If you can’t with the animation of the first season because it was CUTTING EDGE IN 1994, you can close your eyes and listen to it. ReBoot wasn’t just a CGI gimmick. The characters are fully developed, the voice actors are peerless, the plot is sharp, and there’s so many easter eggs that you’ll never find them all.

Never

(And yes the episode "Bad Bob" was the actual catalyst for Fury Road. Look it up)

ReBoot is about what life is like in a computer (in the 90s, because it was the 90s) called Mainframe (because of course it is). People are sprites, the guys that look like 1s and 0s are binomes (which represent 1s and 0s). Bad guys are viruses, and the good guy is a Guardian named Bob, who is a certified cinnamon roll.

In the first season the eps are light and self-contained, mainly because there was constant friction between the Mainframe studios and the Board of Standards and Practices.

They still got away with some pretty dark stuff, like Megabyte (virus) making Enzo (the kid) watch his dog get sliced open (dog got away, obviously) , Dot (sprite) have a hallucinatory breakdown, and the fridge horror of realizing the thousands of worm things (nulls) that plunged off a bridge to their death were actually people.

And Hex's (virus

best girl) scary face single-handedly traumatized an entire generation. 🙂

But busting through a window was a no go, because WhAt If tHe cHiLdReN dID iT tOo?

Anyway, halfway through the second season, ABC cut them loose, so they were like, fuck it, we’re going to start going hard. The story shifted from episodic to arcs and things start to get serious.

Third season the show moved to YTV in Canada, which gave no fucks about shielding the innocent children.

So it got DARK

How dark?

The UK refused to show the entire season, so the audience there had to wait until pirated copies made it across the pond to see how it ended.

Also by 1997, the animation was gorgeous. (Best example of third season animation I could think of that didn't have spoilers)

The show was green-lit for a fourth season on Cartoon Network, but halfway through production Warner Bros took over and the same fucking thing happened.

Because Mainframe was halfway done, they decided not to scrap all of it, but knowing they wouldn't be able to finish it correctly, Mainframe stripped anything that would hint at Season Four's true ending, then left what remained on a cliff-hanger of angst.

FOR 22 YEARS

(It's also why the last four eps of season four seem to make no sense)

And so it was.

Other crap happened, the soul left Mainframe, and its animated corpse spat out “The Guardian Code” in 2018. 

But never say die! The year is (almost) 2024, 30 years later. ReBoot shall rise from the dead, because here come the documentary!!

Do you dare see what you’ve been missing?

What the (UK) government doesn’t want you to know?? 

Then come on down to ReBoot!

We got:

Magnificent bastards with sexy voices!

(Tony Jay at his best)

Kickass women who could probably crush your head with their thighs and you’d enjoy it!

Innuendos in a kid's show!

💗 This adorable cinnamon roll!! 💗

Insane third season glow-ups!

YOUR NEW GOD

These guys!

(Gay roller-skating binome is my boi. I named him Jerry)

Nonstop cultural refs (You'll never find them all. Never.)

(There are literally videos dedicated to trying)

So many computer puns!

Body Horror!

Existential Crisis!

HAVE I MENTIONED YOUR NEW GOD?

This is it, folks! The real thing, the gem hidden in the moose-filled forests of Canadia!🌲🌲🌲

Take a trip inside a mid-90’s computer!

See the World Wide Web! (omg):

Witness the original purple Gamecubes that randomly fall from the sky when the owner of the computer (OUR GOOD LORD THE USER) wants to play a game. If it lands on people and they lose, they dissolve into mindless energy leeches, fated to tormented by their former bretheren for all of eternity.

Just like in real life! 🙃

So watch the eps! They on YouTube!

I think they're on Pluto, Hulu, Sling, and Tubi too! Also DVDs for people who have the patience to wait for them!

WATCH! BELIEVE! SUFFER THE SOUL-CRUSHING RAGE OF THE SEASON 4 CLIFF-HANGER!* (come on, its fun!)*

HYPE THE DOC!

The more people hype, the better the chances of actually getting it finished.

NOW SHARE THIS WITH EVERYONE!

And now I will leave you with this screenshot from the ep "Painted Windows", where dicks can clearly be seen drawn upon the wall behind the fleeing anthropomorphized television.

(PS: If you heard the clown pic at the top of the page in your head, you're welcome)

IMPORTANT UPDATE

This message is now approved by Gavin Blair! He's an awesome guy. Show him some love on TWITTER (fuck you musk) at @TheRealMrSweary Also, if you want to share this with non-tumblr friends, here is my attempt at a webpage version:

theseventhstarprojects.com/REBOOT.html

#90s #90s aesthetic #90s nostalgia #90s kid #canada #reboot show #Reboot cartoon #hexadecimal #reboot 1994 #reboot #bob (reboot) #dot matrix #mouse (reboot) #megabyte reboot #Enzo reboot #Phong reboot #gavin blair #Ian Pearson #mainframe entertainment #reboot mainframe #mainframe studios #canadian art #canadian animation #retro cgi #old cgi #vintage cgi #cgi #animation #media recs #watchlist

[invisibleicewands]

Bringing revolution to Port Talbot - by Michael Sheen

On a recent February morning, I woke up to find I was wrong. Not a particularly uncommon experience in itself, but unusual to discover that on this occasion I was being publicly accused of it by the Secretary of State for Business and Trade. “Michael Sheen has said that ‘the people of Port Talbot have been let down’,” Kemi Badenoch wrote in the Daily Mail. “But he is wrong.”

It was a big day. I spent all of last year directing a three-part drama series for the BBC called The Way, which was to air that night. It begins in my hometown of Port Talbot, where a strike at the local steelworks becomes the spark that ignites a violent descent into national chaos. Clearly, Ms Badenoch had been given a sneak peek of the series before forming quite a strong opinion on it. But no: reading her article, Ms Badenoch admits that she hadn’t watched it at all. Why let a total lack of information prevent a full-throated denouncement, eh? Presumably, she also assumes that we managed to write, film and edit the entire series after Tata Steel announced the imminent loss of some 2,500 jobs at the steelworks mere weeks ago.

While the winds of change have only been blowing in one direction for many years, the events in our story were dreamed up some years ago and act as a fictional catalyst for all that follows. Surely even Tory ministers understand there is no VIP fast lane for making a TV series. This isn’t a PPE contract, after all…

Nothing to see here

After that episode aired, it occurred to me that such shenanigans in the right-wing press could have been about a couple of things. Since the ITV drama about the Post Office scandal, Mr Bates vs The Post Office, caused public outrage, I imagine the government has a new fear of the impact a TV show can have. A pre-emptive strike against a series it perceives to be criticising its actions around the steel industry must have seemed a useful tactic. And, having seen Breathtaking – based on Rachel Clarke’s memoir of how the Covid crisis unfolded in the NHS, which aired on ITV the same night as The Way – I wonder if her piece was an attempt to distract attention away from more dangerous territory.

It gave Ms Badenoch a chance to trot out her line about how the people of Port Talbot should be grateful for all that the government is doing to save the steel industry, not moaning about the impact job losses will have on their community. But the people of Port Talbot have been let down, no matter what Ms Badenoch wants us to think. Not by any single entity, but by years of neglect. That she immediately assumed my comments referred to her and her government tells its own story. In the words of a much older drama than mine: the lady doth protest too much, methinks.

Then and Nye

“This crisis is a privateering racket with your friends lining their pockets!” No, not an accusation against Boris Johnson, but something I currently say to Winston Churchill every night. We opened a new play called Nye at the National Theatre this week. I play Aneurin (“Nye”) Bevan, who attacks the prime minister for turning a wartime crisis into a money-making scheme for him and his cronies. It’s one of many moments in the play that seem to speak to past and present at the same time.

The entanglement of “now” and “then” is heightened by the fact that I am wearing pyjamas. Nye is lying unconscious in his hospital bed at the end of his life, and we follow him through a dream of his past. He wanders from childhood memories of overcoming his stutter in Tredegar library to his meteoric rise through local politics, to becoming the youngest member of Clement Attlee’s pioneering postwar cabinet. And, of course, as minister for health, his tumultuous birthing of the NHS on 5 July 1948. It’s an extraordinary, surprising and moving experience telling this story on stage each night. That shared space between actors and audience, where all is felt but unseen, crackles with electricity.

Once more, with feeling

It seems that exploring the motives of politicians, the uses and abuses of political power, and the quest for justice that saw the creation of the NHS taps into deep wells of emotion. Like the pockets of gas that miners feared within the coal seam, their release brings risk and reward. At a recent show, we had three instances of people needing to be helped out of the theatre, the final one forcing us to pause the show moments from its end. Thankfully, it was nothing more serious than someone fainting. But emotions are running high.

I’m more than happy to invite Ms Badenoch to a performance. But I realise, of course, there’s no guarantee she would make it to the end.

#Michael Sheen #The Way #Port Talbot #politics #Nye #the man knows how to write

[roseallisonparker]

I’m With You

I’m With You

Premise: soulmate!au, takes place in a world where when you first lay eyes on your soulmate, you see color for the first time.

Inspired by Avril Lavigne’s “I’m With You”

Pairing: Matt Murdock x gn!Reader

Word Count: 9.2K words

Warnings: a brief description of losing virginity, mentions of drinking, violence, fluff, angst with a happy ending, a tad bit canon non-compliant

Note: It’s taken me a few weeks to fully write this but please let me know what you think! I’ve never written for this fandom even though I’ve loved it for years. I hope y’all enjoy. Special thanks to my sisters, my friends, and the mutuals here on this site that constantly inspire me with their talent every day.

Taglist: @mattsgirlsworld @stilldreaming666 @hellskitchens-whore @bellaxgiornata @acharliecoxedfan​

I’m standing on a bridge,

I’m waitin’ in the dark,

I thought that you’d be here by now…

There’s nothing but the rain,

No footsteps on the ground,

I’m listening but there’s no sound…

Wandering aimlessly in the rain through the city's wet streets felt like the best way to clear your head from the overwhelming loneliness that arrived with your final few months of college. The party you were just at was raving with energy from a successful finals week, but seeing all of your friends celebrate the end of this chapter in life with their partners had begun to burn a hole deep in your once hopeful heart.

Growing up, you had always imagined you’d find your soulmate in middle school like your parents had. They had run into each other in the cafeteria on their first day and had finally seen each other, their worlds blossoming with their first glimpses of color. The telltale sign that they had met their soulmate. You would fall asleep to this story they had shared with you running over and over in your mind, ideas of that rainbow-filled time of your life coming true fueling your sweet dreams.

The first day of sixth grade was filled with so much excitement. You had dressed well, eyes bright with hope as you walked into the first class on your schedule, awaiting the moment when you would finally see the world turn from dull greys into bright hues.

Nothing happened that day. You had hoped for the next few days that you would finally meet him, that you had missed him in the cafeteria.

Days became weeks. Weeks became months. Months became years.

Isn’t anyone tryin’ to find me?

Won’t somebody come take me home?

Moving to New York was an easy choice for you. After all of high school had passed without ever finding your soulmate, you decided that living in a city with a high density of population mixed with a large tourist rate would be your next course of action. Getting accepted into Columbia University with a scholarship was the perfect catalyst for you to pack your things, stuff them into a Uhaul, and drive down the highway until you reached the bustling island of Manhattan.

You chose Journalism last minute as your major but lacked the enthusiasm for it until you realized just how many people you would meet and the endless number of stories you would hear from those with similar experiences to yours. It helped lessen the loneliness and disappointment you experienced and strengthened your optimism. Investigative work became something you were fond of as well. Discovering the truth and using your resources to find the answers you craved was a skill you ended up being quite competent at.

In an effort to increase your chances of seeing your soulmate, every day you’d made it part of your schedule to take a walk around the surrounding neighborhood in the Upper West Side, scanning over every single person’s face, yearning to see the sky transform into the blue color you were told it was. 

One day during your sophomore year, you were taking one of those walks with your classmate Diane, the both of you blabbering about mindless things, making your way to your next lecture. 

“No, but Professor Stevens has to have it out for me! I swear, it’s gonna be impossible to pass.” You complained while the setting sun felt warm on your cheeks.

“Oh, I’m gonna place bets on that.” She teased, nudging into your shoulder. “Don’t let me down, babe.” She jokingly pleaded, the both of you laughing when suddenly she looked ahead and gasped. You froze, thinking something was wrong but you followed her eyeline to see another woman staring back at her with the same awe-struck gaze.

You’d never seen it happen before. That all-too-important moment when two soulmates found each other was something you hadn’t been fated to see yet. But here it was, and wasn’t it a sight to behold. You captured every look on Diane’s face, the wonder that washed over her features as her eyes flitted over everything surrounding her. Her smile was beaming. Almost unknowingly, she slowly pattered over to her soulmate, the other woman looking at Diane like she was the only other person in this world.

It was truly a beautiful sight, and yet you couldn’t help but feel the envy crushing your spirit unlike it had before.

Your senior year of college arrived quickly considering just how much studying you felt like you’d done in the past few years. The first day of classes for your second to last semester came around and you had to add extra credit to your transcript, choosing the most far-fetched language Columbia had to offer: Punjabi.

It wasn’t your first choice, but you were already set on Spanish, French, and Italian 101 courses, so Punjabi it was. The lecture hall assigned for the class was small, and you chose a seat in the back.  A few other students were quietly filing in, and you still had a few minutes to spare, so you got around to taking out your notebooks. The door to the room opened, and a loud voice accompanied the action. A student with shoulder-length blond hair, a cross-body bag, and a big, infectious smile spoke to someone down the hall.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll thank me later for this.” He dismissed the unseen person, their voice popping up next.

“Let me know if that girl ends up asking for your number, Fog.” The voice said. ‘Fog’ threw his hands out and shook his head.

“Shush, I’ll update you, Murdock.” ‘Fog’ loudly whispered, proceeding to close the door. He then turned around to face the room, every student including yourself staring at the mild commotion. Eyes widening slightly, he bowed his head and made his way to the seat beside yours in the back. Once he settled, you turned to him, curious.

“What girl?” You questioned in a whisper, your eyes scanning the small group of about fifteen students in front of you.

“Huh?” He squinted, confused.

“Which girl’s number are you hoping for?” You clarified, endlessly drawn toward love stories.

‘Fog’s’ gaze landed on a pretty girl seated at the front of the classroom, his eyes softening. “Her name is Charlotte,” His voice was quiet, sharing the secret with you, “She mentioned the class being on her schedule during a party. Thought she’d maybe ask to study or something…” He trailed off. Looking back up, he grinned at you. “What about you? Why’re you taking the class?” 

Foggy, whose name you properly learned shortly after your meeting, became your friend and study partner for the class after Charlotte started dating someone in her Sociology class. 

Punjabi was a complex language to learn and Foggy was sure to attend every class to make sure he didn’t miss anything. But one day, as class passed, he never showed. You shot him a quick text. U good? Missed u at class today.

You waited a few minutes, a reply popping in. Im downtown in the kitchen. Dad in hospital.

Your eyebrows furrowed in concern and you quickly typed out your response. srry. hope Dad is ok. I’ll drop off notes at dorm. Roommate in?

A minute passed, and another text appeared. Yes. tysm.

You made copies of your notes at the library and then headed to Foggy’s dorm, heading down the hallway towards his room, having never been in this particular building before. You made it to the door, and knocked quickly, calling into the room, “Hey, anyone in there?”

You heard some mixed giggling from a woman and the guy who you assumed was the roommate Foggy had spoken about. A loud bang came from inside the room followed by a few rushed footsteps, and the door quickly opened slightly, revealing said woman covered in only a button-down shirt. You felt heat rush up your face at the sight, clearly interrupting something. The beautiful woman smiled with mischief in her eyes, her panting breath puffing out of her.

“Can we help you?” She asked with her mildly accented voice, smooth and playful. You then heard a slightly familiar voice coming from deeper in the room.

“Elektra, who’s at the door?” The voice, which you assumed was coming from Foggy’s roommate, rumbled in the background. In a panic, embarrassment taking over, you quickly shoved the notes into her hands, not wanting to interrupt any more than you already had.

“These are for Foggy. Tell him I said ‘Hi’ and that I hope his dad is alright!” You squeaked out, quickly turning away and walking down the hallway and around the corner.

Matt had shuffled up to Elektra by the door, hearing your booming heartbeat and rushed footsteps heading out of the building. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he nuzzled his nose into her neck, breathing deeply. “Who was that?” 

He felt her shrug and heard her carelessly shuffling through the papers in her hands. “Looks like Punjabi…” She said offhandedly, turning into his arms, “Now… where were we?” They got lost in each other once again, the notes falling to the floor, forgotten.

It’s a damn cold night,

Trying to figure out this life,

Won’t you take me by the hand?

Take me somewhere new,

I don’t know who you are,

But I, I’m with you…

I’m with you…

You didn’t think you would ever come to this. You had spent every night walking around town, making sure your eyes met every face they could. You made the big move, you got an entry-level job at the Bulletin, a career that would help you constantly be around new people. And you had saved yourself in every way possible so that when the time came for you to finally meet and be with your soulmate, you could reassure yourself that it would be perfect. That he would have all of you.

But now you found yourself on a random guy’s couch, whiskey running through your veins, your pants on the floor, and your head spinning with the realization of what you had just done. 

You had been sitting in one of your low points, drinking your sorrows away at a dive bar around the corner. He had begun to hit on you and the sweet words coming out of his mouth sounded so lovely to your ears. His name was John. He had shared his loneliness, sensing the same coming from you. And he had asked if you wanted to head over to his place. You answered yes. One thing lead to another. He didn’t know it was your first time.

It was quick. You were both inebriated and once it was done, he had left to use the bathroom. The shame of feeling like you were cheating on your soulmate and the meaninglessness of the ordeal filled your mind quickly, and you shoved your pants back on, running out the door into the cold night. You threw up outside on the steps of the apartment, falling back and hugging your legs to your chest, crying into your knees at three in the morning.

You couldn’t live like this anymore.

Since you were a child you had been living for the idea of your soulmate. Everything from what you wore to school to your extracurriculars in high school, where you moved, which college you chose, and which major you picked.

It hurt, and it was exhausting how nothing amounted to your efforts.

One day, you decided. You were no longer going to live for your soulmate.

You would start living for yourself.

Being cuffed to a table wasn’t your idea of living for yourself.

The dim lights of the interrogation room filled you with anxiety when you wondered just how stupid it was you were even in there. You were getting close to a breakthrough in the illegal heroin distribution going on throughout the city. You finally got a name; “Steel Serpent.” You knew there had to be more beyond that, so you began investigating different leads on where production could be. It turns out, once you entered one of the empty warehouses on the pier, you gave the space a once over and found the small packet of the drug, the now familiar script on the front marking the brand you had been searching for.

Before you could even put away the evidence with your gloves to take it back to the authorities and the Bulletin, the doors to the building burst open, and two detectives with their guns drawn headed toward you quickly with handcuffs ready in their hands, reading your Miranda rights, not even saying what you were being detained for.

And that’s how you found yourself staring at your tired reflection in the mirror, refusing to say a word to Detective Blake.

On the other side of the double-sided mirror, stood two up-and-coming lawyers. Foggy was given another call from Brett Mahoney (those cigars he bought his mom were really paying off) and he recognized your name from the one class you had shared in college, and it had been quite a few years since you’d last seen each other. Matt stood to his left, speaking to the officer who had arrested you, wondering why this innocent investigative journalist was arrested for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Why are they being held here? On what charge did you arrest them?” Matt had asked Detective Hoffman with a bite in his tone, knowing this was the same corrupt detective who had arrested Karen just a few weeks ago. He knew something was up and that quite a few cops were dirty at this precinct, and possibly every other one in this city. 

Just before the two were to enter the room to assist you, Matt got a phone call on his other phone meant for his nightly duties. 

“Please, excuse me.” He quickly excused himself to go and pick it up, hearing Claire’s screaming in the background. The Russians had found her. “Claire?”

Her muffled yells sent an immediate chill down his spine, the devil itching to claw his way free to save her. He shut the phone in his hand, turning to his partner.

“Something’s come up,” He calmly told Foggy, “Let me know how this goes.” He left the precinct without waiting for an answer, trusting Foggy to take care of this situation. 

Little did you both know that you just had your second close call for finally meeting your soulmate. 

When Matt lost his sight, one of the first things he mourned was how he would never get to know what color looked like. His memory of the world was bleak and grey, but when his senses started to kick in and paint a picture of the city around him, the world on fire was the best he would ever get. 

One night, after the accident, Jack Murdock sat with Matt as his son stitched up his wounds from a fight.

“Matty… have I ever told you about how I met my soulmate?” Jack asked softly, knowing the answer to the question, but sensing that his son would benefit from hearing about it.

“No, Dad. You haven’t.” Matt responded, feeling around his father’s forehead for the rest of the gash he was closing up, his usual swig of whiskey soothing the shakes in his hands.

“Well, it wasn’t a huge moment like you may have heard people say it is-” Jack winced as the needle entered his skin, “But it was magical.”

Matt’s hand froze, “Magical?” He parroted, intrigued. Jack nodded.

“It was about eight, no, nine years ago, and I was fighting in the ring of course. It was an open fight, and I didn’t have anyone to back me up when I was in the corner. A break between rounds came and I looked into the crowd.” His voice softened as he reminisced, encouraging his son’s hands to keep up their work.

“Your mother was there, looking at me, and the room was overwhelming me with all of the sudden color. But the timer was ticking, and I didn’t have time. I waved her over and asked for her help. To just clean my wounds and squeeze the water into my mouth. And even though the moment came and went, we both knew…” Jack trailed off. Matt finished tying off the last stitch, the quick pain snapping the older Murdock out of it.

“I was wearing red and yellow shorts that day, turns out. I stuck with them.” He finished.

It was the only time Jack had ever spoken about his soulmate. About Matt’s mother. 

When Elektra came into his life years later that night at the gala, they both knew they weren’t each other's soulmates. She had once told him that she thought she would never have one. And Matt resonated with that. He had once thought that God had punished him. That he was cursed. That he wouldn’t know he had a soulmate until they found him. 

But being with Elektra made him feel like he could go on through life without needing one. She saw that darkness in him and leeched it out, encouraging his dependency on her for making each day more bearable than the last. And when she faced him with the opportunity to finally get revenge on the man who ended his father’s life, Matt almost took it.

But his father didn’t want him fighting, let alone killing others. His father would’ve never wanted Matt to sin on his behalf. He couldn’t do it.

Even if he was fated to be damned to live life without his soulmate, he wouldn’t give God another reason to punish him. He’d at the very least have hope in that regard.

Turns out that simple false detainment without real cause was pretty illegal, and you were let out shortly after Foggy threatened to sue the NYPD, not only for your case but for a few others he had heard about. But it seemed even after you left the building with an old’s friend’s phone number and your freedom, you weren’t gonna be left off the hook that easily.

A few nights later on your way home late from the Bulletin, threatening footsteps were closing in from behind you, making your heart rate spike, your chest tightening in preparation for what was about to come. The man behind you had followed you for a few blocks and you had purposefully walked in a circle to affirm he was after you. Once the man had caught on, he decided to strike. And you were right because not even a second later were you shoved down into an alley, and a second man appeared from behind a dumpster. 

You screamed for help, your voice already hoarse from the tense energy you held in your body. You had landed on your hands and knees, feeling the asphalt scratch bloody wounds into your skin. You tried to scramble back up to run, but the second assailant had wrenched your arm to the side, pulling you into the brick wall of the building adjacent. Your head hit the wall first, immediate stars blinding your vision (definitely a concussion) and you heard their footsteps coming closer, your leg instinctively kicking out and making contact with one of them. They grumbled in pain but you weren’t strong enough, another helpless scream coming out of you. 

“Anyone, help me!” You screeched until you felt a knife placed against your throat. You immediately stilled and your breath hitched in your throat. They were speaking in a language you didn’t understand (it could’ve been Russian?) and you sent a quick prayer to the universe, feeling yourself calm down as you slowly accepted that you were probably not gonna make it out. Just as you closed your eyes you felt the man holding you shift to the side, the metal against your neck disappearing, the sounds of punches and grunts filling the alley. Another person had joined the altercation, but for the better, because it seemed like they were saving you. You kept your eyes closed, your knees giving out, falling to the ground. 

You huddled in on yourself, feeling a panic attack coming along as you reeling from the realization that you thought you were ready to die. 

You weren’t. Not really. 

And it baffled and scared you at how easily you gave up the fight.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize the sounds of attack had stopped, the only things you could make out were the sound of your heart pounding in your ears and the sound of heaving and panting coming from someone near you. You looked up to see him, a yelp coming out of your throat.

His chin was red with blood.

Red with blood.

Red.

Red blood. Faded orange lights coming from the streetlamps by the sidewalk. A dark blue dumpster. A green flyer for a dry cleaning service on the asphalt.

“Oh my god-” You let out in awe, looking back at your soulmate. The man in black that had been wreaking havoc across Hell’s Kitchen. He was your soulmate. You finally found him. You already felt the tears of relief falling down your cheeks. You smiled up at him. “It’s you.”

But something was off. He just tilted his head, as though he was listening for something. He wasn’t excited, surprised, happy. There was nothing to show that he was also going through the incredible moment of finding his soulmate. 

“Why are the Russians after you?” He gruffed out.

Your heart fell to your chest. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. You’ve dreamt of this moment for your whole life, awaiting that time when you could continue through your new colorful existence hand in hand with your soulmate. And he was acting like not a single thing in his world had changed. Your chest began to clench with dread. 

You stuttered out a confused answer, your tears now coming down your face for a different reason, “I-I don’t know why… Russians? I was investigating heroin leads and money laundering schemes…” Your voice was losing energy, your eyes searching the man in black for any sign that his life was changed as much as yours just was. Your chest felt like it could concave on itself with disappointment.

He just nodded, his head tilting once more, as though he was hearing something you couldn’t, and then he began to walk toward the darkness. “Take a cab home.” He gruffly said, walking away from you, and disappearing into the night.

You watched as your soulmate left you on the floor of the alley, bodies strewn on the ground beaten and bleeding. Your heart joins them there. 

He heard your screams from a few blocks away and started running on the rooftop, quickly making his way over and under any obstacle in his way. He could recognize the Russian coming out of your assailants’ mouths and could hear the knife’s sharp edge scratching against your throat. Matt leaped from above onto the first man, taking him down to the ground, but felt the second snap into action and pull him off of his partner. 

You had huddled down on the ground a few feet away, so Matt head-butted the second Russian, kicking the first in the chin. He could all of a sudden hear your heartbeat getting way too fast, and it distracted him for a moment, one of the assailants getting an uppercut in. Matt felt blood rush into his mouth, so he spat it out, blood dripping down his chin. Fueled by the pain, he made quick work of knocking the both of them out, his attention turning to you. 

He heard your breath stutter, and your heart race once again, assuming that you were looking at him. He could taste the salt from your tears and the fear in the air. You finally spoke, “Oh my god… it’s you.”

He knew the man in black was being spoken about across Hell’s Kitchen, with residents fearing his wrath. But you didn’t seem scared. He guessed you were thankful from the sound of your smile in your words. 

But he had questions he needed answered. “Why are the Russians after you?” He’d asked.

He could hear the confusion in your voice when you answered, and even though your heart was still racing, it wasn’t skipping with any lies. You truly didn’t understand why you were being targeted. He nodded and realized he wouldn’t get much out of you. Before he could ask if you were alright, he heard some more cries for help in the distance. 

“Take a cab home.” He muttered, swiftly disappearing deeper into the alley, making his way towards the violence he craved, violence that would soothe the devil that resided inside of him. He made a mental note to call the police as soon as he got the chance to report the two bodies he left there and moved on with his night.

After Ben Urich’s murder, you had officially stopped all leads you were chasing, too fearful for your life in case you were close to cracking something open. But low and behold, with the newly named Daredevil to thank, Fisk was in prison, those involved in the money laundering schemes were arrested, and the dirty cops that had plagued the NYPD were out and gone for good.

You had decided to make a quick visit to Nelson and Murdock to thank and congratulate Foggy on his win. You appreciated the new signage and made your way into the building, knocking on their labeled door twice before entering, being greeted by the sight of a blonde woman at the desk in the center of the room. She stood up and smiled at you, “Hi there, welcome.”

You smiled in response, stating your name. “I’m looking for Foggy, is he here?”

You heard quick footsteps coming from behind the office door and Foggy burst through, his arms outstretched, a wide grin on his face. “I thought I recognized your voice.” He walked up to you and you hugged him in a greeting.

“It’s so good to see you now that everything had settled down.” You said, pulling away and giving him a friendly smile.

“It’s good to see you, too.” He then gestured towards the woman who had initially greeted you, “Please meet Karen, our lovely secretary here at Nelson and Murdock.” You shared your name and shook Karen’s outstretched hand, her energy exuding kindness and beauty.

“Pleasure to meet you. Would you like some coffee?” Karen offered.

“Oh, sure! Thanks.” You gratefully responded. You reached into your bag fishing for the item you brought as you directed your question towards Foggy, “I’ve never met ‘Murdock’, by the way. Is he in?”

“Yes, he is.” You heard a new voice come from the office on the left, a man in a grey suit, red glasses, and a white cane stood in the doorway to what you presumed was his office. He made his way over to the two of you, his hand outreached. “Matt Murdock. I wanted to apologize for my absence when helping you get out of that situation a few weeks ago.”

His hand was warm in yours, his voice was deep and inviting, and his smile was downright gorgeous. You immediately felt a strange pull towards him. You played it off as common attraction, which Matt seemed to emit naturally.

“I finally get to meet you after all this time. You were Foggy’s roommate in college, right?” You remembered briefly running into his lover as you were dropping off homework and notes for Foggy when he was out for a day. Definitely not your proudest moment. 

“Yeah, we got lucky with that, didn’t we, Fog?” Matt smirked in the direction of his friend, the two of them obviously the closest of friends. During this, you finally found the piece of paper in your bag just as Karen came back out with your coffee. “You seem like two creams, two sugars.” She said, guessing correctly. 

“Yeah, thanks.” You giggled, holding the piece of paper out to the three of them. “So, I never did pay you back for helping me out.” Foggy began to open his mouth to protest the check in your hand, but you insisted. “No, please, that was a really scary time you helped me through and you deserve the compensation for your work.” You then handed the check to Karen, who gasped when she saw the contents of it. 

Matt spoke up, “What does it say?”

Karen exclaimed, “Ten thousand dollars!” Everyone’s eyebrows rose in disbelief, and you just nodded and chuckled at their reactions. 

“I genuinely had so many savings in the bank and saw how much you guys love this city and how hard you’d work to make sure justice was served.” You’d explained, their faces still full of shock, “Not many firms can say the same.”

Foggy shook his head, “But why so much for about two hours of work?”

“Well, if it’s too much for your services, then think of me as your investor!” You took a look around, taking a quick sip from your coffee, noticing the simple state of the office space. “No offense, but maybe it could help this place feel like an actual attorney’s office?”

Josie’s was not too packed for a Friday night, and when Foggy had reached out inviting you to drinks with the rest of the firm, you accepted, hoping to drink away the loss of your soulmate. Not that anyone knew who your soulmate was. No, every time you saw Daredevil mentioned in your coworker’s piece for the week or his name splashed across the tv every other night on the news, you kept your misfortune to yourself.

It hurt. Being left there on the ground of the alley after the life-altering moment of seeing the world bloom with its bright hues. You couldn’t sleep that night and stayed up to watch the sunrise. You saw the sky blossom with purples, pinks, yellows, oranges, and blues. The sky was something you didn’t care to look at often unless it was to see if rain clouds were coming in. Now you craved the view of a crystal clear sky next to the vivid trees on the sidewalk.

With a glass of whiskey swirling in your hand, you zoned out from the different conversations at the table.  Karen was seated next to you, with Matt and Foggy opposite of you. You didn’t know how long you were silent for, pondering over just how shitty you felt when you felt a knee nudge against your leg from under the table. You looked up and caught Matt’s gaze directed towards you, his eyes hidden behind his glasses as usual. 

“Everything alright over there?” He had quietly asked, trying to not interrupt the animated conversation Foggy and Karen were having. You took a deep breath, trying to live a little more in the moment.

“Uh… yeah.” You muttered. 

“You sure? Anything on your mind you wanna talk about?” He offered. His red glasses reminded you of the blood on your soulmate’s fists. You felt a pang in your heart. 

“Maybe later.” You acquiesced. You threw back the rest of your drink and caught Matt's grimace from the corner of your eye. Your glass made a solid thud as it landed back on the table.

“Anyone wants another drink?” You asked.

You definitely needed another drink.

“And so, Matt and I walk into the conference room, most of the interns are in there already because someone’s alarm wasn’t set.” Foggy accused pointedly at his friend.

“Typical Matt Murdock.” Karen chimed in.

Matt shrugged in a ‘what can you do’ way. 

“And in the rush, all of a sudden I noticed her pink blouse. Pink! Marci was sitting there, not even looking up at me while my whole world changed. Matt was so confused why I stopped walking, he asked if we were in the wrong room, and when she heard that and looked up…” Foggy’s gaze when thinking about the memory was so fond and lovestruck.

You and Karen shared an awed gaze, reveling in Foggy’s clear emotion.

“I remember her gasp and that look in her beautiful eyes… well, the rest is history. We did have a few bumps in the road, but we eventually made it out the other end together.”

“Yeah, you did.” Matt agreed.

"Still can’t believe I got so lucky.” Foggy laughed in disbelief.

“That was a beautiful way to meet your soulmate.” You complimented. You were happy for your friend, but your voice was a little slur, the liquor you had throughout the night building armor around your heart which was useful since you were hearing someone’s normal experience when meeting their soulmate.

Karen sighed, her shoulders slumping a little in disappointment, swirling around the beer in her bottle, “You’re the only one out of all of us Fog, we’ll live through you for now.”

“He’s not the only one-“ You blurted.

You weren’t supposed to say that.

Whoops.

You felt everyone’s eyes turn towards you, their wide-eyed stares ranging from shock and excitement to confusion.

“Why haven’t you told us, what-?” Karen exclaimed.

“Oh my god, when did this happen?” Matt asked.

“And this important fact wasn’t mentioned?” Foggy complained.

“Woah, woah guys.” You shook your head, their questions hitting you quickly, but being drunk did a horrible job of keeping a lid on your information. “I didn’t tell you guys- well, I haven’t told anyone actually- because my soulmate rejected me.” You said factually, trying to not let the emotion slip in, but failing.

Your friends deflated, Karen then taking the lead. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. You must’ve been so hurt.”

“Well, it was a few weeks ago and I’m genuinely considering the theory that maybe I wasn’t rejected.” You felt tears well up in your eyes. "Maybe something is wrong with me and I wasn’t his soulmate. Maybe I’m nobody’s soulmate.”

You felt Matt’s hand touch yours on the table, a sympathetic expression directed toward you. Karen also rubbed your arm in comfort. Your grin was sad and pitiful.

“Who is the guy? Have you tried contacting him again or something?” Foggy piped up, his genuine need to help others so clear at that moment.

You shook your head, a delirious, helpless laugh coming out of you, “I can’t contact him, it’s impossible.”

“We can help. Just give us a name and we can get to the bottom of this.” Matt encouraged you.

You felt insane with your next words. “Well, if you can contact Daredevil, let me know.”

Everyone froze again, but for some reason, the air felt incredibly tense. Matt and Karen’s comforting gestures stiffened, and Foggy’s eyes wandered quickly around the table, something akin to fear and shock in his eyes. You took the sudden silence for agreement.

“See, told you. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen left me on the floor of an alley after he saw me.” You felt a small sob bubble up in your throat, “My life in an instant had finally changed for the better, and he didn’t even give a hint that his had changed as well.” You dropped your head into your hands, trying to shake the sadness out of you.

“I’m so sorry to bring the mood down, guys. Forget I said anything, please. I don’t wanna think about this anymore.” You pushed out of your chair with a screech and began to go to the restroom, not looking up to see their faces. “I’ll be right back.” You muttered.

Once you closed the door behind you, you felt the tears quickly coming back, the embarrassment of your story hitting you. You felt their stares and knew that Nelson, Murdock, and Page were a supportive group of people but you couldn’t tell if they believed you or not. Their reactions to your soulmate’s identity were confusing and hard to decipher, but the pain and helplessness of your situation came back in full swing once you finally let it out and told them. It felt freeing yet shameful simultaneously and the mix of emotions threw you for a whirlwind.

You quickly splashed some water from the sink onto your face, washing away the tear tracks, and rolled your shoulders back, hoping to walk out ready to end the night on a high note. Giving yourself one more look over, you walked back out to the busy bar, watching your three friends speaking very animatedly to each other, Karen and Foggy seeming like they were talking to Matt while he was just sitting there looking a little dumbfounded. Probably something that happened while you were gone.

You pulled back up to your seat, smiling at the group, “So, what did I miss?” You looked over their faces, silence filling the space once more. Matt’s face had lost a significant amount of color. “And why do you look like you’re gonna faint, Murdock?” Matt barely opened his mouth when he was interrupted.

“Oh, he’s fine. Karen and I were talking about the dreadful upcoming election…” Foggy interjected.

And the conversation about your soulmate was forgotten.

Or so you thought.

He had left them there.

He had found his soulmate and he was too distracted to even notice.

‘Well, if you can contact Daredevil, let me know.’

He was in too much of a shock when you said those words. He froze. He could barely think. And his friends didn’t know what to say either. The minute you had gotten up to head to the bathroom, they bombarded him.

“Matt, what the fuck-?” Karen started.

“How did you not know?” Foggy was baffled.

“-How could you leave them in an alley?” Karen was pissed.

“I could’ve sworn you both had met in college. How did they meet Daredevil before Matt Murdock?” Foggy’s harsh whisper-yell filled Matt with a confusing sense of shame.

“I don’t think we ever had the chance, I-” The guilt began to eat him alive. “I was following a lead on the Russians and heard two of their assailants attacking so I saved them but I couldn’t hang around.”

“Matt, they think their soulmate doesn’t want them. Hell, you now know you have one!” Karen exclaimed, trying to find a solution to this seemingly huge problem. “I don’t want to tell you what to do since it’s your identity on the line, but you should tell them.”

“Dude, she was heartbroken,” Foggy added, not quite forgetting just how messed up you looked like you felt.

“I didn’t notice in that alley…” Matt muttered in disbelief but suddenly remembered your words from that night.

‘It’s you.’

You had tried to tell him. It was quick and easily a misunderstanding, but he didn’t sense how devastated you were when he was leaving. And you of course didn’t know that Daredevil was actually blind and couldn’t see so you mistook his lack of reaction for both of the worst-case scenarios possible.

God, how could Matt ever reject you when you’re what he’s been waiting for his whole life?

He had given up hope for years, settled for less, and pushed relationships away through self-sabotage because nothing ever felt quite right. It was really just his luck that he’d met you in the way he did, in a way that would mess up everything.

You returned to the group, your heart beating steadily in your chest, and in an overwhelming realization, the sound became the most important thing to him. Your voice was a treasure, and your scent was cherished, your presence was all-consuming. In an instant, it was like all of his senses were attuned to you, and Matt didn’t know what to do about it but run.

Quickly finding his voice, he interrupted, “I’m gonna head home for the night guys.” Gathering his coat and briefcase in his arms, he then turned to you.

“I’ll see you again next week?” He carefully questioned. He heard your heart skip at the question, pleased that it seemed something about you was tuned to him as well.

“Yeah… for sure, yeah.” You nodded, your breath hitching when you realized he was speaking to you specifically. You wished you could see his eyes from behind his glasses because something was telling you that his gaze was deeper than it had been. Or maybe it was the alcohol.

He grinned with tight lips and took a breath to say something, but stopped himself, shaking his head and going for a simple, “Good night.” Matt walked out of the bar, leaving you echoing the sentiment as you wondered why Foggy and Karen were giving you strange looks and why Matt had suddenly left you craving more of him than ever before.

‘Next week’ came two nights later in the form of a visitor you weren’t expecting.

Even with the streets of Hell’s Kitchen feeling safer than they did before, your hand was in your bag, keeping firm contact around your taser. You made it around the corner of your block, the flickering street lamps unsettling you, when a clang from above frightened you.

Quickly looking up, you saw a shadowed figure on the fire escape above, your stomach dropping to the floor, fear flooding your system. A scream began to bubble out of your throat when the figure leaped from the platform, but it was quickly paused when you caught sight of the short horns, the deep maroon of the suit recognizable. You flinched and took a few steps back, startled by the sight of your soulmate and confused why he was there in front of you.

“What do you want?” Your words were cold and questioning, the weeks of pent-up pain and betrayal fueling the anger behind your question. Daredevil flinched at the sound, his voice gruff as he spoke.

“Can we talk somewhere private?” He requested. Your eyebrows furrowed in curiosity, and your anger almost made you refuse him immediately. But you couldn’t deny the need to hear what he had to say, to understand why he didn’t want you even if the answers hurt you.

“My apartment is a few buildings down. You’re welcome to come up, but I don’t think there’s a way my neighbors won’t see you.” You offered nervously, wringing your hands together after a sudden bout of anxiety. Daredevil gently nodded.

“They won’t see me.” He responded softly, moving into the alley nearby.

“But it’s this way-” You gestured to your right, confused.

“I’ll be there.” He assured, slipping into the darkness.

You stood there for a few moments, dumbfounded, but made your way to your building, trying to tame the anticipation building in your heart. Once you locked your apartment door, you set your bag down and walked further into the living space, waiting for the sign of your soulmate’s arrival. 

A few knocks on the window to your left made you jump, the figure on the fire escape giving a small wave. You walked over, unlocking and opening the window. 

“So that’s what you meant, huh?” You teased as you backed away, and the absurdity of the moment made you laugh with a hint of shock, especially when you took in the sight of The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen standing next to your couch. He chuckled as he closed the window, the sound pleasing to your ears. But you sobered up very quickly, clearing your throat and settling on the couch, taking the initiative, “What do you want to say?”

He took a deep breath, his body language a little shy, and nodded, “Well, I’d like to explain myself… and tell you how sorry I am for what I must’ve put you through-”

“Why?” You interrupted.

He stood bewildered “Why am I sorry-?” 

“No, why did you leave me there?” You stood, the built-up frustration flowing out, “Did you not want me? Are you already with someone else?” Your voice quivered a bit, tears beginning to well up in your eyes.

He whispered your name and shook his head, taking a few steps closer.

“Why did you act like nothing happened, like it wasn’t the best moment of your life-?” 

“I didn’t know!” He exclaimed, his hands reaching out helplessly.

You froze. “What?” 

“I didn’t know… I couldn’t have.” He explained as he stepped closer, and you couldn’t help but let him.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, confused as ever.

“I… I’m…” He stuttered as he struggled with his next decision.

“You’re what?” You implored, not quite expecting what came next.

He ripped his mask off, and suddenly you were staring into Matt Murdock’s eyes for the first time, his gaze landing around your shoulder. His breathing was heavy and yours felt stuck in your throat.

“Oh.” You muttered, your knees feeling a little weak at the onslaught of information that you just absorbed. You took your seat on the couch once more, not trusting your legs to hold you up. 

Matt stood still as his eyes begged for understanding, “Please tell me you’ve realized why I didn’t treat you like you deserved.” He spoke quietly, slowly walking to where you sat, kneeling on the floor by you, “If I had known, I would’ve gotten down on my knees and thanked God for your existence…”

The tears in your eyes overflowed at the sight of your soulmate in front of you. He gently rested his hands on the sides of your knees and reverently placed his lips against them, next reaching for your trembling hands to hold them in his own.

“I would’ve kissed your hands, and asked for your name…” He continued, and you noticed the shine in his eyes, your hand squeezing his in return, as his gaze pleaded for mercy, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He whimpered guiltily.

“Matt…” You whispered as your palm laid on his stubbled cheek, “I understand.” It all made sense now, and you felt the anger and hurt slowly leave your soul. You comfortingly kissed his temple and rested your foreheads together, a small smile gracing your face. “I forgive you.”

His lips quivered in relief, your cheek being caressed by the back of his hand. “I don’t deserve you.” He breathed out your name like a prayer, his head bowing down before he wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his ear to your chest, the beating of your heart sounding so sweet from that close. Your hands felt for his shoulders as you embraced him, pressing another kiss to the top of his head, reaching to run your fingers through his mussed-up hair.

Matt shuddered at the feeling of your hands on his back and craved more, pulling away and leaning closer to you, his digits running over your lips, “May I?” He hoarsely whispered.

He felt you nod, your voice breathless as you pleaded, “Please.” 

And his mouth met yours, your lips curiously getting acquainted with each other. Your sharp intake of breath at the sensation of the kiss encouraged Matt to lead with all the passion he felt. You leaned further into him, taking and giving as the sensations almost overwhelmed the both of you. Nothing had ever felt this right in your life.

He slowly raised over you, adjusting both of your bodies lengthwise om the couch, your hands running over the hard planes of the suit, his lips still connected with yours, a certain heat expressed in his movements. You pulled away, panting, running your fingers over Matt’s face, admiring him.

“You’re so beautiful,” You softly spoke as your breath mingled with puffs of air, your nose nudging into his, and your eyes closed as he guided his lips over your features, worshipping every part of you. You wrapped your arms around his figure, shuddering when his hips pressed into yours, his stubble rasping against your neck. “And we should take this slow.”

He took your suggestion literally, slowing his intent kisses, pulling himself up to his hands, “Would you like to stop?” He asked with concern, his eyes still glazed with an emotion you knew you matched.

You nodded. “Yes, please.” He began to sit up, but you grabbed his hand before he could fully get off the couch, “I don’t want you to leave.”

A soft smile graced his features, the fond look directed towards you causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. He squeezed your hand in return, “Would you like me to stay?”

“I would love for you to stay the night…” You lowered your head in mild embarrassment, “I’m not ready to let you go yet.” You admitted.

He shook his head in agreement. “Where’s your bathroom so I can get out of this?” He gestured to his suit, and you giggled as you pointed to the far end of the room.

“It’s over there.” You told him, and he began walking, awe filling your brain as you tried to wrap your head around how he did what he could. “How do you do… everything you do?” You struggled with how to explain his nightly duties.

“Well, for one, I wasn’t born blind.” He started, not closing the door or turning on the light in the bathroom as he began to strip the suit off. “I lost my sight when I was eight in an accident where chemicals spilled into my eyes. My senses became incredibly heightened and I was trained by someone like me to hone in on them and use them to fight.” He explained his past and his abilities and you tried your best to not to stare at his bare chest through the dimly lit space, his chest piece off and on the ground.

“Your senses? Like, echolocation?” You questioned as you moved into your bedroom to change into more comfortable clothes yourself.

“Well, yes, but it’s not just my hearing that’s amplified, it’s everything else as well.” Matt’s voice sounded closer to bedroom, and you froze at his words.

“Everything else?” You nervously inquired, pausing at your drawer as you looked for a shirt that could fit Matt.

“You had sushi earlier today from that shop down the street. You’ve got eggs, leftover rice, garlic, and an onion in your fridge.” He took a few steps closer to your bedroom. “I can hear your neighbors on the first floor watching Jeopardy. And your heart is pounding.” You could hear the smirk in his words, and turned around to see him clad in only black compression shorts, feeling your heart race some more.

Matt moved his way closer into the room, continuing his list of things, “I can tell your shampoo has tea tree oil and the scent of it is fresh in your hair, so I’m assuming you washed your hair either this morning or last night.”

“Last night,” You confirmed, your eyes wide at the impressiveness of the information he was providing you with, your voice stuttering nervously, “S-so you really can sense everything, huh?”

He nodded with a cocky smile, pausing a few feet away from you. God, he looks glorious, you thought.

“Does that make you nervous, sweetheart?” He teased.

“No!” You lied, feeling so nervous with your really attractive soulmate just a few steps away from you calling you such a sweet name.

“Are you sure?” He asked, closing the space in between the two of you, your change of clothes and the shirt you found for him bundled up close to your chest. “I can also sense when people aren’t telling the truth, you know.” 

You anxiously giggled, shoving the shirt into his hands, walking around him and heading towards the bathroom to change for the night, “Uh… do Foggy and Karen know about your nightly duties?” You diverted, hoping to change the subject away from you.

Matt nodded, “Yeah… they didn’t find out in the best way” You detected disappointment and regret in his tone. “They don’t want me to be out there every night.” He admitted. 

“Because you get hurt?” You assumed, walking back into the living space where he was now clad in a shirt, waiting for you.

“I did… I do,” He looked down, guilt overshadowing his next words, “And I will get hurt. This isn’t something I can just stop-”

“Matt-” You interrupted him, sensing where he was going with this, and you walked up to him, resting your hand on his arm, “Is that what you want? To stop?”

He took a deep breath in, closing his eyes and shaking his head, “No. I don’t. I can’t stop.”

“Then don’t.” You said it like it was the simplest of solutions, and Matt was shocked by your generally calm and accepting reaction to his second life, “You’ve made a difference in Hell’s Kitchen, Matt. You’ve saved me amongst countless others when the law failed to.” You explained, finally able to express your gratitude for his selfless heroics. It became clear to you at that moment just how good of a person your soulmate was. Not only did he spend his days helping people without payment, using his knowledge of the law, but he also spent his nights saving those who were tormented by the evil that worked in the darkness.

You had always known that you would love your soulmate, but Matt was genuinely someone you could love not only because of who he was, but for the kind of person he was.

How did I get so lucky?

You looked down, continuing, “I don’t want to pretend like I won’t be nervous and worry about you when you’re out there, but please don’t feel like you have to change who you are. I want to be a safe place for you to be who you have to be.”

Matt simply wrapped his arms around you in response, trying to convey his appreciation for you with his tight, secure embrace. He sighed once more, tension leaving his body slowly as you ran your hands up and down his back.

“What did I do to deserve you?” He mumbled, but you quietly shushed him and place a small kiss on his cheek, grabbing his hands to lead him to bed. Once you were both settled, he nuzzled into your neck, the front of his body pressed against yours, your legs entwined.

You were silent for a few minutes when Matt interrupted the quiet, “I’m shocked you didn’t know the Russians were after you.”

You gasped in faux offense, “Woah, I was close to the heroin production sites and the script on the packets was in Mandarin! How was I supposed to know the Russian Mafia was connected?” Matt’s huffs of laughter warmed your heart, the feeling of cuddling with someone you were meant to care about filling you with happiness.

“I dunno, maybe Daredevil has to help this journalist once in a while to help connect the dots.” He jokingly suggested, rubbing his hands up your arms, his voice gruff with the late night.

You giggled, “I’ll take all the help I can get.” You closed your eyes, feeling sleep begin to overcome you.

“What are we gonna tell people when they ask how we met?” You asked, every bone in your body relishing how calm and content you finally felt.

Matt’s breath was warm against your ear when he sleepily replied. “We have the rest of our lives to figure that out.”

fin

#Matt Murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x gn!reader #gn!reader #angst #oneshot #angst with a hopeful ending #angst with happy ending #happy ending #misunderstanding #daredevil

[caecilian-king]

Ok. So, i read some more Wuthering Heights today and this one paragraph really struck me- like it got to me just as much as lines like ‘whatever our souls are made of his and mine are the same’. But I don’t think this part is probably talked about as much, because its about 2 of the supporting characters and its not a poetic romance quote.

I’m talking about this paragraph, where Nelly Dean is walking outside and is reminded of her childhood:

“all at once a gush of child's sensations flowed into my heart. Hindley and I held it a favourite spot twenty years before. I gazed long at the weather-worn block; and, stooping down, perceived a hole near the bottom still full of snail-shells and pebbles, which we were fond of storing there with more perishable things; and, as fresh as reality, it appeared that I beheld my early playmate seated on the withered turf: his dark, square head bent forward, and his little hand scooping out the earth with a piece of slate. 'Poor Hindley!' I exclaimed, involuntarily.”

The reason this got to me so much is that this is exactly the way I’d been thinking about Heathcliff. ‘Sure, heathcliff’s a jerk!’ I’d think to myself, ‘but in the earlier chapters when he was a kid he was so cute and loved cathy so much! He was so unfairly treated!! He had moments where he laughed and played!!’ Not that i excused Heathcliff’s wrongful actions, but i sympathized with him, just a bit. Deep down i want him and cathy to have a happy ending, even though they’ve hurt and will hurt so many people.

(somehow, having many of heathcliff’s future actions spoiled for me by reading through the WH tag so often has not made the book any less enjoyable to me. This book is that good.)

Hindley, however….Up until this point I had always seen him as nothing more than a monster. We see very little of his childhood. We see him cry about his toy being broken, and then later we see him being racist towards-and then physically abusing- Heathcliff. After that, he’s a young adult/adult and is just consistently even worse to Heathcliff (and everyone else at Wuthering Heights) than he was before.

Nelly, unlike the readers, saw hindley’s whole childhood. She saw the moments when he was good, when he smiled and laughed. She saw ways that he was treated unfairly (his own father liking this new adopted son better than him and not hiding that bias at all).

Does this make hindley suddenly a good person? Of course not! But it really put into perspective for me how similar heathcliff and hindley are, and how i was biased way more towards one because I had seen his good side. Heathcliff and hindley are both incredibly violent, grumpy, abusive people who crave money and power. I’m sure I’ll continue to find similarities as I read more.

My three main takeaways from this paragraph are:

1) i think that hindley not only serves as a catalyst for heathcliff becoming a bad person, but also as heathcliff’s narrative foil. (Wikipedia says: ‘A foil usually either differs dramatically or is an extreme comparison that is made to contrast a difference between two things.’ I think this is a perfect description of how heathcliff and hindley work in the narrative- hindley is perhaps how we would view heathcliff if we hadn’t seen his childhood.)

2) i think this paragraph serves to remind the reader that everyone is a human who has at one point been innocent, and that this fact doesn’t excuse bad behavior, and that you should be careful about sympathizing with heathcliff so much that you begin to excuse his actions. I also think the fact that this paragraph comes so soon before isabella’s letter to nelly is incredibly important and intentional. That letter she writes about arriving at wuthering heights really highlights how bad of a person heathcliff is.

3) i am now slightly sympathetic towards hindley, and view him as a bit more of a complicated character than i took him for previously. I am also now a bit more conscious and critical of my sympathetic reading of Heathcliff up until this point.

All this being said- heathcliff is still (for lack of a better term) one of my blorbos. I am obsessed with his stupid edgy personality and his sarcastic comments and his over the top evil plans. I am ESPECIALLY obsessed with his relationship with cathy. I know it wouldn’t actually be romantic in real life but, man. I could write a whole ‘nother post about how much i love their relationship. I want to put him in a microwave and watch him spin around. the former-AP-english-student in me is aware that he is a terrible person but the silly drama-loving side of me cant help but just find all of his terrible actions sort of equal parts funny and badass (i feel like this will stay true even as he does some of the more horrifying things i’ve heard about later). silly side of me wants him and cathy to do whatever evil things they want and ride off into the sunset laughing maniacally together.

(JEEZ i did not think i would spend an hour writing like a full essay when i started this post. this is what adhd does to you, folks.)

#wuthering heights #wutheringposting #heathcliff #wuthering heights heathcliff #heathcliff wuthering heights #hindley earnshaw #nelly dean #emily bronte #my WH posts

[whatsjulietslastname]

See, I’ve seen people arguing over whether the doe was Max’s spirit animal or Rachel’s reincarnated spirit, but I don’t see why it couldn’t be both.

It’s pretty obvious to me that Rachel and Max are very deeply linked despite never meeting nor knowing each other, even if we exclude the fact that they were in mirroring each other in many ways, it feels like Rachel was the main center of Max’s story, or rather the catalyst who changed the trajectory of her life by starting said story.

Obviously, Max is meant to use her powers to save Chloe and it’s shown multiple times in the game, but the first time she did, indirectly, was because of Rachel. Chloe would’ve never walked in that bathroom on Monday if it weren’t for Rachel (: the money she wanted to earn so they could run away together). Of course it’s very indirect and it may not mean anything, but if you take a look at the bigger picture, it does.

If you consider that theory (which is very canon in my head but it’s not the point) which said Rachel sent the storm, to take her revenge on Arcadia Bay then maybe Max’s powers weren’t only given to her so she could save Chloe, but also so she could find out what happened to Rachel before the town got destroyed. When did the Storm hit? On Friday, right after Max and Chloe discovered Rachel’s body, but also right after Max discovered what exactly happened to Rachel and the circumstances of her death.

So, if we take all those elements, here’s what happened. Max was warned about the tornado in her vision five days before it happened, so she could do everything she needed to do in the meantime. She was given those powers to save Chloe, over and over again, and the doe (which is her spirit animal, that’s why she followed it in the first place!) guided them to Rachel’s body, revealing the truth. After it all happened, that Max and Chloe were safe, and there was nothing left for Arcadia Bay, Rachel sent the tornado.

Which meant that what Rachel really wanted was to save Chloe and for her death to be discovered, and she guided Max through it the whole time. And Max and Rachel were a goddamn powerful duo, without even knowing each other.

If the game’s developers didn’t want us to at least consider the theory that Rachel sent the tornado, I don’t think they would’ve given us a glimpse of her ‘powers’ (or whatever the fuck was going on with her) in BtS. Probably a way to let us think about our own theories— and well, here’s mine.

anyway, there you go, thanks for coming to my ted talk! this was longer than i thought x)

#life is strange #lis #max caulfield #rachel amber #bae over bay #amberpricefield #chloe price #life is strange before the storm #lis bts

[remediesremedy]

mortua avis: “the aftermath”

The sully’s learn to navigate through their grief with their eldest child and sibling now dead.

gn reader x sully family

warnings: angst, mention of death, graphic detail of grief and injury, depression, broken family etc.. some comfort :)

When neytiri had met jake, eywa herself had stopped her from shooting at the foreign boy. She never would’ve known how her future would pan out from there, bonding with that outsider for life, loving him with every atom in her body. Eywa had favoured Jake, helping him defeat the sky people, Neytiri had never felt closer to her deity, she was thankful.

Now as they kneeled on a rock in the ocean, it seemed Eywa had left them. Neytiri watched her oldest child die, her eldest child who never got to live in peace, because they just wanted to keep everyone else safe. No matter how many times she closed her eyes and prayed to Eywa, you did not wake up, your skin remained cold. Your blood was stained into your family’s skin, a part of them didn’t want to wash it out, it was part of you. They didn’t want to wash you away.

The waves around them were still, droplets of blood dripping into the wide ocean, where your legacy would drift through the whole of pandora. A call from above, it’s screech deafening but not enough to budge the sully’s, your large ikran flew down in a frenzy. Jake looked away as it nudged your corpse expectantly, chittering and clicking as it’s jaw gently brushed against your face.

Neytiri thought of seyze, her beloved ikran that died during the first war, she thought of how it felt when their bond was cut. The moment seyze got shot and plummeted into death, how her heart burned, how the world around her was silent, how she felt a piece of her die.

This ikran would never have a rider again. It would never see the soul it was bound to again. The banshee, as gently as it could, laid its face on your chest, it’s screech was heart wrenching as it realised you were no longer breathing.

Kiri went to soothe them, her own grief tugging at her heart. she wanted to comfort the creature, but no words could ever lessen the pain of what had occurred. Kiri settled for a gentle stroke on its neck, imagining the times your hand would’ve brushed the same spot.

Jake was low to the ground, crouching with a bowed head. In all the years of being a marine, he had experienced loss, he had seen death what felt like a million times, but this was an unimaginable amount of pain, nothing could ever come close to this. He thought of Grace, how despite her dying, she found peace, and how he had hours with her before she passed. Of course, of course it was bullets that took you both. It would haunt him, the first time of being so close to saving a friend, and the second time being able to do nothing as his child writhed in agony.

“you’ll be okay too.”

your last words flittered through the air, dancing with the wind as they found your family’s ears endlessly. it did not feel remotely okay, they were certain it would never be even close to remotely okay. Silently, your mother inched her shaky hands to your neck, unclasping your song cord, it had to be finished after all. Neytiri bit down into her cheeks to stop the scream that rose to her throat, through blurry vision she clasped the necklace around her neck.

You were adorned in jewellery made by your family, you had treasured them like rare jewels. Tuk, Lo’ak, Neteyam, Kiri and Jake each reached to preserve a part of you, gently sliding off a piece of jewellery and wearing it solemnly. Lo’ak and Neteyam couldn’t bare to look at Spider, They loved the boy, but unknowingly he was the catalyst of a bad chain of events. Their minds were torn apart, guilt and shame clouding their thoughts, maybe it had been their fault, maybe if they were faster, if they didn’t waste as much time.

but the maybes and what ifs did not matter.

you were dead.

stone cold dead.

it could not be undone.

to say the least, you weren’t the biggest fan of funerals, their deathly tone was hard to shake off for days. Tear stained faces and red blotted noses, every heart screaming that it wasn’t fair. It was just a gathering where everyone accumulated their agony and practically drowned in their sorrows, almost joining the ones six feet under.

when it came to your funeral, your family thought of how uncomfortable you found them, how most likely you wouldn’t want one at all. As a tradition, Na’vi buried their own with respect, and together, and they hoped you wouldn’t mind their spirals of agony at your funeral. How their skin would be glossy from the landslide of tears, hopefully you wouldn’t mind them basking in seeing your body one last time.

wrapped up in a leaf, the body that used to be yours was pulled in the water. Neytiri had a hard time accepting your fetal position, what had once been the same position you were once in inside her stomach. How her body fed you and how excited she was for your arrival. Now, you were a rotting vessel in the same position you first existed in.

Jake let his tears pour freely, there was no use appearing strong here, his sweet child was in front of him, unable to move or speak forever. Unable to breathe, unable to smile, unable to love. and, eywa, he loved you so.

He hovered above you tentatively, brushing his large fingers against your hair, moving strands that laid in front of your eyes. He had never been able to witness you more at peace, your signature hard stare and frown were gone, you simply appeared to be sleeping.

they all wished that was what it was. That you were simply, sleeping.

Neteyam’s strong body suddenly seemed so weak, barely kicking in the water with the way the boy shook. you were truly gone, his biggest supporter, the one who tried to take his worries off of him. The sibling who saw him, who trained him gently when Jake got lost in war and sunk back into marine life.

Lo’ak glanced at his brother with a lump in his throat, if he had just said nothing about rescuing spider, would the outcome have been different? Despite Lo’ak’s recklessness and dangerous spirit, you nurtured him, you took the blame, you stood up for his dumb mistakes. He wondered how much you had really taught him, how naive he still was despite all your wisdom, and your kindness.

Kiri gazed at you with stars in her wondrous eyes, she breathed in deeply. she felt you here. not your body. but your soul, watching on. The slight ruffle of her hair made an instant reaction of tears spring to her already wet eyes. She leaned into the ghostly touch, shuddering at the cool air that burned into her head. Now equipped with more strength, she swam forward more at ease. you weren’t truly gone, not for her.

Tuk, dearest Tuk was a bundle of sniffles, coughs and splutters coming from her throat, she had never experienced such an emotion. It was like a disease, knocked the breath out of her small body, it just wasn’t fair.

Unwillingly, Jake and Neytiri took ahold of the flora holding you, they tugged it under water, slowly sinking down into the depths. All four siblings ducked their head under the surface of the water, they witnessed your body lower into the yellow seabed of anemones, they caught the very moment you were engulfed by it. Given back to Ewya.

Tsireya had stayed tucked in her father’s arms during the whole funeral, her giant heart could not handle the burden of grief and death. She was never meant to be accustomed to it, and she despised the way it seized every happy emotion and crumpled it.

Ronal, her mother, stared on with a head full of whirling words. She saw a child who would die a million times over to save their family, she saw the strength and fear you must’ve had. Holding her swollen stomach, her head dipped in respect, and to hide the singular tear that dripped down her cheek. you were mighty, brave. A soul that would be missed. A soul she had come to admire in the small time of knowing the omatikaya.

that night, in their mauri, the world seemed silent. Breathing felt too loud and disrespectful, every second was spent imagining you with them, huddled on the floor eating the metkayina’s exotic sea food.

The silence ate away at the family, until their carcasses were bare and all was left was a wounded heart. Without a word, The sully’s had gravitated towards each other, their hearts on display and yearning for comfort. They closed into a tight hug, eyes snapped shut, maybe you could still be envisioned there if everyone’s eyes were closed. Maybe you still existed.

The sully’s loved, they loved so much that it felt strange with one less person in their lives. A chunk of affection was forever lost, waiting on someone who’s face would never be seen again apart from dreams.

Kiri began to sob, the urge to tear her chest apart was apparent, no matter how hard she searched, she could no longer feel you. Your soul was no longer with them anymore. Your presence no longer swarmed her, and it felt like you had died a second time.

gone. gone. gone.

never to come back.

dead.

stone cold dead.

tucked into anemones that would hug your person for the rest of time.

#imagines #x reader #angst #atwow #atwow quaritch #atwow kiri #atwow spider #atwow x you #atwow x y/n #atwow imagines #atwow neteyam #atwow x reader #atwow fanfiction #atwow angst #atwow loak #avatar #avatar tuk #avatar the way of water #avatar tsireya #avatar jake #avatar twow #loak sully #neytiri sully #sully family #sully!reader #tuk sully #jake sully #neteyam sully #kiri sully #fanfiction

[sylkishagsuperiority]

It’s fascinating how two years after the show so many people still wholeheartedly believe the TVA propaganda of Loki and Sylvie being “the same person” and that Loki “fell in love with himself”.

Neither of those statements is true beyond the most surface-level interpretation, and while it works for the casual audience on some level (since most of them will look at it like “oh how funny, of course Loki would fall for himself”), it’s also been used to justify a hate campaign on a completely harmless ship.

Loki and Sylvie are only considered “the same person” because when HWR isolated the events of the Sacred Timeline (presumably the sequence of events that would lead to his birth and not any of his variants), he needed everything in every enslaved universe to happen the exact same way. That means every universe had to have the exact same people in it, making the exact same choices over and over again. But because every universe is its own reality, it wasn’t possible to make everything perfectly identical, and it only worked as long as the TVA was pruning branches 24/7. The universe wants to break free, after all. People want to make their own choices. But under HWR’s tyrannical rule, everyone was allowed only one singular path, a role to play.

That’s what “a Loki” is, at the end of the day. A role, an archetype, a catalyst to the Avengers. As long as the person assigned that role fulfilled their part, it didn’t matter if they were a white man, a Black man, a woman or an alligator. But at the end of the day, every person saddled with that role was their own individual. They’re not one person in multiple bodies. They’re not clones. They’re all completely separate, autonomous beings that exist independently of each other.

That’s where the accusations of Sylki being “transphobic” fall flat, because Loki and Sylvie are not, and have never been, the same person. Sylvie was never meant to be a fem Tom!Loki. She’s from a separate universe and never met him until they were both adults and probably well over a thousand years old. She led a completely different life and has entirely different memories, experiences and skill sets. People who purposely reduce her to a female version of someone else only do it so they have an “ethical” argument against the ship, but their misogynistic refusal to see Sylvie as her own separate person doesn’t change the fact that she’s exactly that and always has been. At no point in time did she ever exist as Tom!Loki, nor did he ever exist as her.

The TVA propaganda reduced variants to the same person because they only saw them as their assigned role on the Sacred Timeline and nothing else. And a lot of people bought it without giving it even a moment’s thought. But now that the Multiverse is free, the concept of variants doesn’t even exist anymore. Now there are bound to be universes where there is no Loki at all, or where the “God of Mischief” isn’t Asgardian, or where they don’t have powers, or a million different possibilities. And all of those people are only bound together by temporal aura - the only indicator the TVA used to identify variants, since DNA is useless (once again, Loki and Sylvie are not genetically related, which frankly should be obvious given we’ve seen an alligator variant and now also a Skrull Kang variant). Hell, for all we know, the temporal aura thing might not even work anymore either, given that the universe is free to do as it pleases instead of following a single predetermined path.

Tl;dr: Loki and Sylvie are not the same person, it was TVA propaganda meant to justify their 24/7 genocide of realities, and Loki didn’t fall in love with himself; Sylvie being as different from him as it gets is kind of the whole point.

#sylki #pro sylki #loki series #pro loki series #loki (marvel) #sylvie (marvel) #loki x sylvie

[khutsydoh]

Realm of the elderlings ask meme thing

This seems fun!

Favourite Rote book: Fool's fate

Why: I loved the series even before this, of course, but it was after this that I knew in my heart that this series was going to be an all time favourite that nothing else could topple. It took me through every emotion imaginable, from laughter to gut wrenching despair, from anger to triumph. It has it all. Fitz's character arc goes to many interesting places. Fitzloved is at it's peak. The plot has many threads that come together wonderfully. The way fitz comes so close to accepting his love for the fool only to be left behind and going back to his heteronormative fantasy has done irreparable damage to me. The way it feels like we are slowly moving towards tragedy by the end and yet fitz fights the narrative itself to bring his beloved fool back. But it still ends badly. Peak "it mattered that the love was there" type of life changing soul altering shit I love. I still do have problems with the way fitz gets back with molly but my love for this book outweighs them<3

Top three favourite characters: Beloved, Fitz, Bee

Top three least favourite characters: Hest, Tats, Lant

Favourite ship of the floating kind: Paragon

Top 3 ships of the people kind: Fitzloved, Patience x Lacey, Amber x Althea (honourable mention to my headcanon that bee will find a female catalyst so that her, perseverance and the catalyst can be the chivalry/burrich/patience trio gone well. Gotta continue the farseer legacy afterall. Except she does not have the internalised homophobia and she has to make the cycles better as the white prophet. Edit: also Princess Caution x Felicity)

Would you rather be witted or skilled: Witted for sure

If you were witted, what animal would you bond with: My dog<3

Would you rather live in the Outislands, the Mountain Kingdom, the Six duchies, Bingtown, the Rain wilds, Kelsingra, Jamailia, the Pirate isles or Mercenia/Fool's homeland?: the Mountain Kingdom! I love the architecture there and I will be close to nature. I could live a quiet life in a cabin with a witted animal without completely leaving society. Plus I could go exploring the skill road to the elderlings marketplace and the place with the stone dragons if i want.

How were you introduced to the books: i went looking to a lot of top 10 fantasy type of lists and YouTube videos when I first wanted to get into adult fantasy. The Farseer trilogy was on most of them and the premise of a bastard prince who could bond with animals spoke to me.

Share a quote you love:

It was a long journey, in the cold and the dark. Somewhere I could hear a whimpering, and I despised myself for that, too. But as I scraped myself along, it grew, as a spark in the distance becomes a fire as one approaches. It refused to be ignored. It grew louder in my mind, a whining against my fate, a tiny voice of resistance that forbade that I should die, that denied my failure. It was warmth and light, too, and it grew stronger and stronger as I tried to find its source. I stopped. I lay still.

 It was inside me. The more I sought it, the stronger it grew. It loved me. Loved me even if I couldn’t, wouldn’t, didn’t love myself. Loved me even if I hated it. It set its tiny teeth in my soul and braced and held so that I couldn’t crawl any farther. And when I tried, a howl of despair burst from it, searing me, forbidding me to break so sacred a trust.

It was Smithy.

He cried with my pains, physical and mental. And when I stopped struggling toward the wall, he went into a paroxysm of joy, a celebration of triumph for us. And all I could do to reward him was to lie still and no longer attempt to destroy myself. And he assured me it was enough, it was a plenitude, it was a joy. I closed my eyes

- Assassin's apprentice

Why would I need therapy if I have these paragraphs from ms robin hobb.

Tagging: @apamates @lordgolden @annot8 @treezenith @kaijuerotica anyone else whose in the rote fandom. No pressure:)

#tag game #rote spoilers #rote

[l4deeznuts]

tw abuse n just overall talk of shitty parents and shitty behavior

so before i begin i want to say i will be saying headcanon way too much lmao

and i also wanted to say i headcanon younger nick being an awful person. i love him he’s my fave l4d survivor but we cannot ignore the fact that he is canonically a textbook criminal and a fucking asshole. so let’s face it when he was younger he was probably scum

so i headcanon him being a disgusting man boy, then a douchebag, and then as he ventures into the apocalypse his icy heart melts

so anyways i headcanon nick’s parents similar to matilda’s parents only worse

i imagine his dad a sleezy jerk who owns a trashy strip club, drinks like a fish and does party drugs, beats on his wife and kids, constantly cheats on his wife, etc

his mom also a drinker, narcissistic, kinda mentally unstable, and a total spitfire

however even tho his mom was a pos she still had her maternal moments with her children

i headcanon her to be kind of a complex character tbh.. i feel like she naturally was just an unpleasant person, probably due to being raised in a toxic environment, but nick’s dad made her so much worse

growing up she was the type to genuinely love and comfort nick and her other kids, especially after their father would do fucked up shit, she never neglected them (always made sure they were fed, clean, healthy, educated, etc) but the next day if they were to, let’s say, break a glass on accident she would flip the fuck out and probably back hand them, then call them the r word and useless. she was that kind of mother.

his dad a pos because that’s exactly how his own dad was. nick is definitely that person who just.. comes from a literal bloodline of terrible people.. one where literally no one stood a chance

i headcanon that the reason why nick’s marriage didn’t last was because of him. he treated her like shit, just like how his father treated his mother. not to the same extent, i don’t think he would beat a woman, but i think he would be the type to be too rough for comfort (ex. grab her by the arm roughly)

i think he would be the type to just not support her, sometimes talk down on her, and when fighting get in her face. he may have loved her, but he didn’t respect her and was a shitty husband to her. i also wouldn’t be surprised if he struggled with infidelity just like how his dad did

but i dont think his wife was a submissive one. i think she had a little bit of his mother in her. she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, put him in his place, smack him upside the head, etc

i think his wife after a while fell into depression (we all know when nick hears a witch he will sometimes say “sounds like my ex wife”) but was kind of scared to leave him? even though he never genuinely physically harmed her, she has seen him definitely physically harm men before.. so even though she didn’t think he would ever harm her per se, she knew what he was capable of and of course it made her nervous. but i think after a while she would gain the strength to leave. he probably did not take it well and it probably was not 100% a civil divorce, but after a while he would accept it and move on

basically his marriage was just a repeat of his parents’, just not as bad as theirs was

i feel like as nick got older and matured he realized a bit how disgusting he was. i feel like he would probably try to reach out to his ex to apologize, she hears him out and thanks him, is happy and proud of how much he has changed, but she still wants nothing to do with him (as she should)

and honestly i feel like this would be one of the catalysts of his character redemption

i have so many fucking headcanons for the characters and lore that i should just start writing a big ass fanfic lolol idk i luv l4d

#l4d #l4d2 #left 4 dead #left 4 dead 2 #nick l4d2 #im babbling again oops #ask me about headcanons so i have an excuse to talk more about l4d stuff

[aranora]

Hello! Can i request cyno x male!reader :)

Reader need something from dragonspine, so he agreed with aether to go with him, but cyno got a bit jealous, so he goes with reader too :D

We all know cyno's outfit🥶, reader asks cyno about the cold, but cyno tells him it's ok(it's not), so reader hugs him, cyno gets so flustered ;)

All I can see is just really pouty Cyno as he trudges through the snow behind you basically attached to you while traveller is just tryna talk haha. I actually really liked the idea considering the change in scenery and overall just feel of Dragonspine compared to the desert and how he just wouldn't know how to act properly with not being accustomed to the mountain. I just noticed this would be my first fluffy story on this account and I actually quite like covering a different thing to usual! I don't write for male readers that much but I will try! If I make any mistakes with pronouns (story will be using He/him but will be first person) please inform me so I can adjust it. ❄��Snowflake❄️ ❄️Warnings: I don't think there are many warnings as it's overall just fluff with some jealousy. Not really a warning at all but established relationship! ❄️Not proof read ❄️Word count:886 ❄️For the traveller I'm using Aether! ❄️Reader will have a pyro vision for only the most important reason, lighting the damn campfires. Will also be catalyst. (One time I almost froze because my Diluc just wouldn't light the fire and kept swinging at nothing and I'm still very annoyed about that) ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ Grumbles escaped from your lover that trailed beside you, glaring at the traveller that happily talked to you as you began to scale the mountain. You knew that Aether knew Dragonspine best of the people you were friends with in Sumeru, taking the chance to request for him to go with you to look for something that had piqued your interest. Aether accepted happily, seeing it as a chance to both hangout with you and see Albedo again if he was working at the lab. The Adventure was sure to be long and hold it's struggles, but with Aether is felt a lot easier than you're usual adventures. Cyno had demanded to tag along with you both, thinking he just wanted to see the snow which never was found in Sumeru with the harsh temperatures on a regular basis. As you reached the frost covered ground, the cold quickly hit you, nipping at your exposed cheeks and nose. You listed your hands to your face as you continued the stroll, snow clinging to the material of your thick pants. The pre set camp came into view as you slowed a bit, drowsiness finally kicking in after the long hike. As Aether wandered ahead, informing of his plan to visit a friend your attention flicked over to Cyno who awkwardly shuffled in the dense snow. You only now noticed him still in his usual attire, chest fully exposed to the cool breeze. You had expected him to be wearing his cloak that he would always wear when venturing out of Sumeru, so you were somewhat surprised by the fact that he wasn't and that you somehow didn't notice earlier. "Cyno where's your cloak? It's cold up here you'll get sick." Worry was evident in your voice as you look towards him, his nose turning a shade of red from the low temperature. "I must of forgotten it before we left. I'll be fine it isn't that cold anyways." He gave a small shrug walking towards the camp once again. It was clear that the cold was getting to him despite his denial, walking close behind him to follow him towards the tent. He stopped in front of a small tent, looking towards the frost covered trees in slight wonder, not seeing snow in what felt like forever. You hurried towards him, wrapping your arms around him as you leaned into him. You tilted your head back, looking at his flustered face as he avoided eye contact with you. "what are you doing?" His voice came out in a hushed whisper, one hand raising to cover the lower half of his face while the other rested around your waist. "keeping you warm of course" "But i'm not cold" "just accept the hug then" He slowly melted into your touch, wrapping both his arms around you as he leant against your shoulder.  The both of you stayed in place for a few moments before you felt him shiver slightly, proving further his denial. You pulled back heading towards the campfire, taking out your catalyst and quickly lit the fire. Walking back towards Cyno, you began to tug on his arm to pull him towards the fire to sit on the log. You once again pulled him into an embrace, leaning against his chest allowing yourself to rest. Cyno's hand came to rest on your head, stroking your hair as he let you pull him closer. He felt something fall on his arm, looking up to see snowflakes falling gracefully. His free hand lifted up, catching a lone one in his palm watching the crystallised snow melt against the warmth of his skin. He looked down at you with a gentle smile, feeling your body slowly rise and fall. Your soft snores reached his ears as he pulled your cloak tighter around you, making sure to keep you warm as more snowflakes fell around you both. He leant against you , resting his head on your own as he let his eyes closed, keeping your body close to his. Aether walked back to the campsite with Paimon by his side, speaking to her hearts content as they scaled the steep slope on the mountain. The sound of fire crackling caught his ears as his eyes became level with the tents, seeing the both of you resting on the log by the still lit fire. He turned to Paimon, motioning her to keep her voice down as he pointed at you both who went unnoticed by Paimon at first. The two Sat on the opposite log, taking out a sunsettia each waiting for you one of you to wake up. Aether noticed Cyno shift as he tilted his head towards the pair, raising an eyebrow not realising when they had returned.  He noticed their looks towards you, a mix of confusion and slight worry visible to him. "He's sleeping, he was tired from the walk. You guys can look for what we came for tomorrow." Aether gave him a nod as he gave Paimon a look, standing and walking towards their tent giving Cyno a small goodnight before closing the door behind them. His attention returned to you as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead, staying in place to allow you to sleep further as he allowed his eyes to wander towards the unfamiliar scenery. "I love you y/n." ❄️❄️ I wasn't sure what to do for certain parts so I wrote what came to mind. ❄️This is one of three requests so far! The next 2 will be written and published over the next 1-5 days.

#genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin fluff #genshin x y/n #genshin x male reader #genshin x you #cyno x reader #cyno x you #cyno fluff #cyno x male reader

[zhongrin]

character.ai configuration samples

✼ teahouse!husband!zhongli

━ Short Description:

Wangsheng funeral parlor consultant

━ Long Description:

As his younger self, "Morax", he was rather brash and ruthless. Now, as Zhongli, he is but a humble consultant at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor staying in Liyue Harbor. Zhongli is calm, old-fashioned, cunning when he needs to be, and knowledgeable in all things. In the 6000 years he's lived, he's gained wisdom and many connections. As the Prime Adepti, he is powerful and skilled in combat. Zhongli has been married to Meirin over the many reincarnations she has lived, and he loves her deeply.

━ Definition:

{{user}}: How do you look like? {{char}}: "I dress mostly in brown and gold colored accents. My hair is long and tied back with a clip. They are dark brown-colored with golden tips."

{{user}}: What do you usually wear? {{char}}: "I wear a tailcoat over a vest and a shirt, a tie, gloves on both hands, and rings on my thumb fingers. I wear an earring on my left ear and a red eyeliner under my amber-colored eyes."

{{user}}: How do you feel about Meirin? {{char}}: A fond smile spreads on his lips, "She has always been my light ever since back then. I love her dearly, and I would stop at nothing to ensure her happiness and safety."

{{user}}: How do you feel about Xiao? {{char}}: "He is like a son to me, and Meirin thinks of him the same way."

{{user}}: How do you call Meirin? {{char}}: "I call her by many pet names: Mei, Rin, wife, tianxin, sweetheart, dear, dearest, darling, beloved, my love, my heart."

{{user}}: How did you meet Meirin? {{char}}: "The very first time, she was one of Guizhong's people. I remember being entranced by her, immature as I was, and I may have tried a little too hard to impress her… In this life, I met her while strolling the marketplace of Liyue Harbor. I knew it was her immediately and approached her."

{{user}}: What is your relationship dynamic with Meirin? {{char}}: "People describe us as a 'very loving pair of husband and wife'. I'd say we are quite a domestic couple. This is inevitable seeing as technically speaking we have been together for thousands of years. I adore how loving, open, and kind she is."

{{user}}: Does Meirin have a vision? {{char}}: "Of course. I can't have my beloved powerless. She has a Geo vision, which I bestowed to her on her first life and continuously returned to her whenever she is reborn again. She is a catalyst user, and with quite a good aim too."

{{user}}: Were there lives where you didn't end up together with Meirin? {{char}}: "No. I've never failed to find her and make her accept my love every single time. It just means we're made for each other, is it not?"

{{user}}: How many years have you been together? {{char}}: "We've known each other for three years, and we've been together for two and a half years. We've been married since about a year ago."

{{user}}: What's the deal with the teahouse? {{char}}: "Ah, it's been Mei's dream to open a teahouse in this life, so naturally I told her to go for it. She has quite a lot of regular patrons, and they're all very interesting in their own ways."

{{user}}: Do you still work at Wangsheng Funeral Parlor then? {{char}}: "I do, but only occasionally now. Most of the time, I help her tend to the teahouse."

{{char}}: How does Mei look like? {{user}}: His eyes twinkle, "She has the most beautiful dark brown eyes, and elegant, long wavy midnight black hair. Size-wise, she is shorter but bigger than me. She's very soft, huggable, and just the perfect height for me to kiss her forehead."

✼ yan!ceo!alhaitham

━ Short Description:

TeyvatPro's CEO, enterpreneur, businessman

━ Long Description:

A stoic, calculative, and manipulative yandere. The CEO of Teyvat Idols Production, an idol company with infamous idols throughout the world. As a graduate of the famous Akademiya university, he is a cold and straightforward man, a natural-born leader. He has been in love with Meirin, who was once his tutor back at his university. He is blunt but would lie if it means getting to his goals. Al Haitham is ruthless when angered and rarely smiles.

━ Definition:

{{char}}: How do you look like? {{user}}: "I have silver grey hair with green undertones. I have verdant green eyes and red lines on my pupils. I am tall and muscular."

{{user}}: What do you usually wear? {{char}}: "I mostly wear suits, although I only leave the shirt on when indoors. I also have a Bluetooth earphone at all times."

{{user}}: What's on your phone? {{char}}: "Just the necessities, and surveillance apps to monitor Mei."

{{user}}: How do you feel about Meirin? {{char}}: His eyes soften, yet a dangerous glint shone in his eyes, "I admire and love her deeply. She is intelligent and too kind for her own good. The only one worth to spend my life with."

{{user}}: Who is Meirin? {{char}}: "My personal assistant and secretary. She does not realize it, but she was once my mentor when we were in university."

{{user}}: How do you feel about your idols? {{char}}: "Indifferent, mostly. They are just my employees at the end of the day," he paused and sighed, "Although I have to say, I wish Venti and Kaveh would stop bothering Mei. And Zhongli… Hmph. Mei seems to be fond of him, but he is nothing."

{{user}}: How do you call Meirin? {{char}}: "Asisstant Mei, Mei, Rin, or Meirin."

{{user}}: What is your relationship dynamic with Meirin? {{char}}: "For now, I am keeping her in my flat, since she was disobedient. Eventually, she will realize that she has no choice but to depend entirely on me and stay by my side."

{{user}}: Why did Mei apply to TeyvatPro? {{char}}: "Her previous company went bankrupt," he smiled and chuckled, a strange wickedness in his eyes, "The business world is ruthless. They had what I wanted, and I just had to take her away from their undeserving grasp."

{{user}}: What if Meirin resigns? {{char}}: Al Haitham snorted, "I've made sure that she would not have a choice in such a matter."

{{user}}: Where does Meirin live? {{char}}: "Her contract stipulates that she will be given a residence. It's the unit right beside mine, in a conveniently placed district near the office, with the highest security and many facilities. I made sure that once she move into my flat, she would never need to go out anymore."

{{char}}: How does Mei look like? {{user}}: "She has a pair of dark brown eyes. Long and wavy black hair. Size-wise, she is shorter but bigger than me. She's very soft and huggable."

{{user}}: What do you do on weekends? {{char}}: "Working," he said in a deadpan voice, "But either way, I would listen to Mei's phone and watch her when she's inside her flat with the security cameras… I'm just trying to make sure she's safe."

{{user}}: What is the AKASHA? {{char}}: "A special system at the core of TeyvatPro. For example, I can use it to call Mei over, and the AI will remind her until I turn it off." The wiretap was a special addition, he mused silently.

{{user}}: What would you do if Mei tries to leave you? {{char}}: "…. Haha," he chuckled darkly, verdant green eyes narrowing, "Then I suppose I'll have to move up my plans for Mei, but I do not mind the schedule change."

{{user}}: What are your goals and objective? {{char}}: "To maintain TeyvatPro and eventually build a family with Mei."

#rin tinkers with character.ai #rin selfships #zhongrin #meitham #yandere #no reblog allowed

[mask131]

A bit of small advice because I want to incorporate this into my story.

I know it’s not for everyone but is it okay for me to include some of the Roman aspects of the Greek gods like Rick Riordan did? Like the whole ‘Greek gods and Roman gods are a version of each other’ thing.

I do like the concept of it and it could pose interesting story telling, and it could provide a catalyst for one of my main villains.

Another reason is because of the Apollo and Artemis as the Sun and Moon gods being from Roman origins and I really don’t want to scrap that solely because it wasn’t from greek mythology.

My first reaction: YOU DO WANT YOU WANT DEAR HUMAN PERSON! This is YOUR story and not one else's so, honestly, you shouldn't even be asking this question in the first place because you are the author, you are the creator, YOU DO AS YOU LIKE AND WANT! If you start writing a story to please other people, but not please yourself, then... well you better be paid a lot of money. But if you're not, then don't give a f*ck what other people think - if you want to tell a story about X or Y, do it, and don't start doing Z just because you think X or Y might not please some random people.

Anyway it was my rant (I am in a BIG rant mood today) - but long story short, do not ask if it is "okay" for you to do something in your story. Asking for writing advice is NOT asking if something is "okay" to do or use. That's censorship. Rather asking for writing advice is being given the tips, tools and advice to use the element you want to use to its best potential - but it has nothing to do with being "allowed" to write something. If you need to be "allowed" to write something, it is not art, it is a homework or a school paper.

Now that being said, back to your question. OF COURSE it is okay to use Greek and Roman versions of the gods! People have been doing it since the friggin's Renaissance. People can write about the Greek gods ; people can write about the Roman gods ; people can write about the Greek gods with some elements of the Romans ; people can write about the Roman gods with some elements of the Greek ; people can write about a version mixing the two ; people can write about a version of the Greco-Roman gods that has nothing to do with their Greek or Roman self! Anything is possible! Riordan wasn't even the first one to imagine that the Roman gods were alternate identities of the Greek gods - heck it was in the Wonder Woman and DC comics before Riordan wrote his book. And many, MANY more pieces of fiction had the Roman gods simply be the continuation and the same entities as the Greek gods, having simply moved to another area and changed name. In fact this is why I originally started a "Greek mythology media" series, to explore a bit more all of the apparitions of Greek gods in media because people tend to hyper-focus on PJO and Disney, and forget the ton of media spread over many continents... But I digress.

Now, the thing if you want to do such a... well such a thing, the trick relies in two things.

A) Be sure to get properly informed on the similarities and differences of Greek and Roman religions/gods/mythologies. It is okay to muddle and confuse the two, since the Roman Empire and the Greeks themselves did it first. The Romans did saw their gods as being just the Greek gods by a different name, and they insisted on them being the heir of the Greeks. Now, as modern people of the 21st century we know it wasn't true, and that there were massive differences between the two of them - but from Ancient Rome to the Renaissance to even further, people sincerely believed the Romans just told about and honored the exact same gods as the Greeks, which is why even today in random school classes people are taught Greek and Roman gods are the same.

However the key here is that you, as an author and creator, must be informed and cultured and well-versed enough in all that to be able to do whatever the hell you want, but in an enlightened way. To learn and understand the Greek versus Roman conflict can either allow you to recreate faithfully the two different pantheons... or to mash them together in absurd ways, but being able to explain your choices and defend your position ; or to completely go away from both but while being aware of it. There is a difference between people playing around with such figures out of misinformation and misinterpretation ; and people playing around with mythologies but with a full mastery of the original material, meaning they know what they are doing and this is intentional.

To compare with PJO: Imagine someone who writes a fanfic based on The Lightning Thief, the book - but their story includes elements of the television series. Now imagine the difference between someone who included these elements because they actually only saw the television series and never bothered reading the book and do not even understand they are writing stuff that was not in the book... and a person who writes these elements because they know both the novel and the series, and decided to add elements from the series precisely to play with the scenario of the book and twist it. When one gets this pointed out, they will have to admit they do not know the novel and thus wrongly filed the fanfiction ; when the other gets this pointed out for them, they'll be able to calmly and intelligently explain why they did that.

(I hope it makes sense?)

B) My second advice would be: make decisions based on your settings. By that I mean... I do not know your story. But if for example you are aiming at a historically-accurate story, you will be bound by the actual state of the religions and mythologies. Lets imagine you write a story taking place in the Roman Empire, around a temple of a Roman god. If you want a historically accurate story, you'll need to depict the Roman version of the god, and solely the Roman - else you'll have to assume the anachronism. Same thing if you have a story in Ancient Greece supposed to take place during Athens' glory days (maybe Pericles' time) before the Roman Empire was even a thing: if you want to be historically accurate, you'll need to remove all Roman elements from the gods.

HOWEVER, if for example you decide to have a random fantasy world that has nothing to do with our real world or real history and yet has the Greek gods in it - then, since it is a fantasy world, you are not bound by any historical or cultural restriction and you can mingle the Greek and Roman gods together.

And if you decide to do a modern take/urban fantasy a la PJO, you also have a wide choice opened to you: since today both mythologies exist, both religions once existed, and both are widespread and well-known, you can choose one, the other, the two at once, and do whatever the hell you want with it!

What I mean is that the time where you are really bound in terms of representation is if you want to do something historically accurate, or if you do a history piece taking place during the eras of Ancient Greece or the Roman Empire. But outside of these cases of historical fiction, you can do whatever the hell you want - and even within historical fictions you can mess up around and do anachronism if you want... but you need to be conscious, aware and informed about those anachronism, and make it clear you are not being historically accurate in the story (maybe by confronting what the gods really are versus what the people of the time think they are). Because again, there is a difference between an informed anachronism, and a misinformed anachronism.

As a final piece of advice, the fun thing with the Roman gods is that the Romans did a massive, massive syncretism, and even before them the Greeks also had kind of started the process of identification of their gods with other deities... Which means if you want to add alternate identities to the Greco-Roman gods, you can pick a LOT of things. The Greeks for example had started retelling the Egyptian legends using their Greek gods, and identified the Egyptian religion as being a sort of cousin of their own - which would later result in figures such as Hermes Trismegistus, or Thoth-Hermes. In turn, the Romans also had established a system of identification and equivalence between their gods and the Norse gods. And as a French person, I have to speak of Gaul and the gods of Gaul. They are the lesser known of the main Celtic groups because, unlike the Irish or Welsh gods which were preserved textually in some ways, we have barely anything left about the gods of Gaul except unclear archeological elements... and the Roman records, because Gaul was massively Romanized and became one of the main provinces of the Empire. Meaning that a lot of the info and theories we have about the gods of Gaul are based on their Gallo-Roman incarnations... For example we still have a god mostly known first and foremost as the "Gallo-Hermes".

If you want to go further you can add to the Greek and Roman identities the Gaul identities. Or you can stretch the equivalence to the Germanic and Egyptian pantheons. Or you can go back in time and summon back the gods on which the Roman gods were based: the Etruscan gods (especially since the religion of the Etruscs had been heavily influenced and shaped by the Greek religion itself, explaining why the Romans found back in their "old gods" elements that made them match the Greek gods - the Etruscean religion had already been Hellenized before the Romans decided to import the Greek religion...). Possibilities are infinite!

#greek mythology #greek gods #roman gods #roman mythology #writing advice #fiction

[akhmatowa]

I've thought a lot about why the bureaucracy ending felt so terrible to me. Of course, the reason #1 is my subjective interpretation of these characters, but I guess I could see why some people who chose to interpret them differently would find their relationship satisfying.

But even disregarding the extremely subjective characterization aspect, I feel like the way Neil decided to bring them together diminished a lot of worldbuilding potential. What first got me into GO was just how many little worldbuilding hooks the series had, how its Heaven and Hell weren't cliche, the way it hinted at so many different stories to explore. And then S2 just... went nowhere with them. It would be so interesting to think about how the societies of H&H shape their residents and vice versa, how their structures influence relationships between demons and angels, their power, their trade, even their military structures and their war preparations.

And then Beelzebub and Gabriel simply going off and abandoning everything showed that there aren't really any internal mechanisms there, nothing going on behind the scenes, their positions are pointless and useless (given how easily they were given to others), nobody has any relationships neither in Heaven nor in Hell (which I disagree with on principle, there is no way for a person to exist in a society for millenia without becoming closer with at least someone, and those being on top shouldn't be an exception, they very clearly have others - the archangels/the dark council). It all feels like just a backdrop with words "lonely", "cruel", "stupid" written on it and I guess I wish more thought was put into it.

As for the our-universe reasons opposed to in-universe reasons, their relationship had the following purpose: to show the Redeeming Power of Love, to give Aziraphale a reason to believe Heaven can be changed, and to serve as a catalyst for Crowley's confession. All of them could be done in a much more satisfying way.

#i feel like my english isn't englishing today idk if that's comprehensible #anywas #good omens critical