#this is part of the reason why I’m so full of the Guilt I fear

[napakmahal]

Elegant like Emma D’Arcy

This may or may not be my personal love for aquiline noses and the fact I love that they chose to give Tadashi a more noticeable nose shape. 🤍

You and Tadashi we just having a well-deserved quiet night in. Finals were over and winter break had started. The seaters came out, and the books went away for four weeks. A little upsetting that San Fransokyo was not the place to go if you wanted to experience snow, all they got was rain and on occasion: hail. But the overly cold chill in the air and the light sprinkle of icey waters falling from the grey skies justified the cuddling. You were on your stomach, one leg was tossed over Tadashi’s torso with your face smushed against his chest. His laptop was resting on his nightstand, playing some crappy Christmas hallmark movie about the cliche big-city girl and flannel-wearing, small-town boy. There were so many of those with covers that looked nearly identical that neither of you could name the movie without looking at the title.

“Do you think there are really people like that?” You asked, your voice slightly mushed.

With a decent amount of vocal fry your boyfriend answered, “Like what?”

“People that would just straight up dip from their high-paying jobs and comfy lives just because they met someone.”

Shrugging as much as he could. “I’m sure of it. Plus it’s kind of romantic. No?”

“Pfft,” You scoffed. “I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure that counts as some form of self-sabotage.”

“What?” Tadashi smiled down at your head. “You wouldn’t quit a job or leave your city for me?”

“No way would you let me.”

That made them both laugh because it was true. Tadashi wanted nothing but the best for you, and leaving everything or any opportunity at all would cause a riff between you. He didn’t like the idea of being the guy that might have indirectly guilt-tripped you into not living to your full potential. Nor did he like the idea of you being miserable because you stayed or left. He is the embodiment of the scene where Jess from Gilmore Girls gets angry at Rory for dropping out of Yale.

“Why? Would you just give up everything just for me?” She raised her eyebrows up at him.

He had to think about that for a moment. Part of the reason you loved him so much was because of his dedication to the people he loved. It was his core moral that he’d carried with him for years on end. “Maybe not everything, but I’d compromise.”

It was almost hypocritical. Just the thought of you quitting or missing out on anything because of him made him want to punch a hole in the wall. Yet when it came to you or anyone else he held in high regard he made so much of an effort to make everyone happy. That’s true love by the way. Watching the happiness of someone you love and finding joy in it despite you maybe not being in the picture.

“That’s not fair.” You groaned into his chest.

The ringing and movement of his chest fluttered against the side of your head. “It is to me.”

“You suck.”

“You suck.”

“You both suck!” Hiro came crashing into the room. The dark circles under his eyes looked more like shopping bags and his skin had grown dry and cracked. He’d just finished taking a three-hour final with a written portion, a matching portion, and in an in-person experiment with stations.

“Hey dude,” Tadashi smiled at his older brother. “How’d it go?”

Instead of answering, Hiro just collapsed onto the floor and for a while, you thought he might have stopped breathing. That fear was soothed by the loud snores of a young teen boy who hadn’t gotten any proper sleep for almost two weeks straight.

“He might drop out after this.” You laughed.

Tadashi’s eyes sprung open like they were going to pop out of his head, “I don’t think so. After all, I did to get him in. No way, I’ll shoot him before he does.”

“Aww, but he’s so tired. “You fake pitied and pouted.

“He has three weeks to rest, he’ll be fine.”

For the next few minutes, the two of you went back to enjoying the heat of the other’s bodies, finding calm in the breathing noises between you two, and after a while, you’d start to tune the movie out. It’s not like it was that interesting anyway. The very generic-looking couple were having some kind of fight about her using him for some big corporation story. Didn’t make much sense and wasn’t that compelling in any way.

Out of boredom, you started drawing invisible shapes into your boyfriends skin with your fingers when you got to his neck and hear his jaw and face. Tadashi’s side profile is so beautiful, especially his nose. Tadashi had a very elegant aquiline nose, with the perfect nose bridge. It fit his face like no other.

You brought your finger up to his face and started grazing the top of his nose bridge, tracing the lines of his face. He’s ethereal.

“What are you doing, hon?” Tadashi pressed his face down and glared down trying to see his own nose.

“I’m admiring your nose.” You admitted, fully focused on the center of his face.

“I can see-er I can feel that. Why?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. It’s just so pretty.”

“You think my nose is pretty?” He chuckled.

“Mhmm,” You hummed. “Like it suits you so well. Your nose makes you look so elegant. Like Emma D’Arcy.”

Tadashi grabbed your hand gently and pulled it away from his face. Instead, he brought your hand to his lips and started pecking kisses all over your palm, wrist, and parts of your forearms. “Thank you hun, I’m glad you find my nose so elegant.”

“You’re welcome, beautiful boy.” You craned your body forward to peck him on the lips.

Tadashi smiled down at you, “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

#baymax #big hero 6 #big hero six #tadashi hamada #hiro hamada #bh6 x reader #tadashi hamada x reader #hiro hamada x reader #disney #fanfic #emma d'arcy #aquiline nose #tumblr #napakmahal #writers on tumblr

[saintrvckwell]

Till the end (ellie williams x reader)

ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: in the midst of brutal madness, ellie finds a moment to confess what she fears the most.

warnings: fluff, swearing, slight angst, soft moments of ellie and the reader

words count: 3.3k

a/n: oh yeah. i’m still alive. and finally wrote something that does not have ten thousands words wow? owed you something nice, tried my best to achieve that. it's short, but (i hope) comforting, at least. seattle ellie deserves the whole world.

"For all that it's worth, I would have loved you till the end."

‣

Ellie never wanted you to become a part of this. Her complicated, unresolved issues with Joel, her own inner fight with the guilt of not dying for something she considered to be the purpose of her life and repayment for those she had lost along the way. Nor be part of the inevitable outcome that Joel’s actions had caused.

Ellie never wanted to scar the only pure, untouched safety net she had in her life. 

But when she stood upon Nora’s body she had previously beaten to death, sourcing the information she came for to Seattle in the first place, she could no longer escape. To the person she was becoming, to Joel whose eyes were slowly fading away from her memory. From the look, you gave her when she came back to the theatre and Jesse let her in.

With the bloodstains on her clothes, and bruises on her arms, she handed Dina the map and you couldn’t help but notice how fragile her whole body has suddenly become. 

You didn’t say much, knowing there wasn’t anything that could fix the way Ellie felt, that could find the parts of herself she already lost while avenging someone whom she couldn’t even face after the heinous act she just committed.

Joel never wanted her to lose the remaining bits of innocence she had within her. He never wanted her to taste the ugliness of the world the way he did. Yet here she was. Convinced she had to finish this, no matter what was it going to take. How much was it going to cost. 

Jesse and Dina stood aside with a bloodstained map, marking Abby’s supposed location while you carefully grabbed Ellie’s wrist, wishing to take her to the back and clean her wounds. She couldn’t even look into your eyes, avoiding it the whole time you walked through the seats, all the way backstage. 

You sat her down on the couch, letting her take the clothes off while you went to search for some useful supplies. Back there, Dina and Jesse were upstairs, sitting by the radio, contemplating a good way of finding Tommy and the easiest route to hunt down Abby and be done with this whole thing. 

The minute you walked in, Jesse couldn’t help himself. “That was definitely not her blood.” 

Two days in and you already noticed how much this had cost her already. 

You didn’t comment, still searching through the cabinets. 

“Maybe we should just pack it up and leave,” Jesse whispered. “Right in the morning. We were in deep shit yesterday already. After this, they must be patrolling for us. We should just find Tommy and get the fuck out of here.” 

“And go where?” you dared to ask, shifting your attention to him. 

“Back home?” Dina shrugged his shoulders, joining the conversation.

“See,” you closed the cabinets and stood up, finally paying both of them your full attention. “She doesn’t have that anymore.” 

None of them would dare to argue about that. 

Jesse meant well, you were well aware of that. After all, Ellie was the reason he came to Seattle in the first place. But even though he was determined to help his friend, Jesse would never understand the full reason and justification of the way Ellie felt—why she was doing all of that.

You couldn’t help but sigh. “Ellie can’t see the sense of right and wrong right now. And the more you tell her how stupid and dangerous this is, the less she will listen to you..” 

“So you’re supporting this?” he wondered, disgruntled. 

“No,” you replied. “But I know that I can either give her shit and go home or stay and make sure she’s not going to lose the only parts of herself she has left.” 

You found what you were looking for, parts of that. Combined with what you packed before you left Jackson, you had nearly enough to fix all of Ellie’s injuries. Without uttering another word, you left Dina and Jesse to their own thoughts, not feeling the need to add anything else. As much as you understood their need to go back before things get significantly worse, you knew she would not go. 

And you would never forgive yourself if you just left her here, all alone. 

Especially after what happened a few minutes later. 

She was sitting on the old sofa by the time you got back to her, facing you backward. Before you even tried to whisper her name, you were stopped by a sight that immediately caught your attention. Most of her clothes were lying on the floor, soaked in blood and dirt. She sat there, half-naked, with her back displaying endless bruises, cuts and wounds. You couldn’t count all of them even if you tried. 

Ellie knew you were already there, but didn’t dare to look at you—not after you saw that. She was too weak to face you. Not because she was afraid of seeing the sadness and worry in your eyes; she had already gotten used to seeing that in the last two days.

More than that, Ellie would never be able to face a disappointment, not from you. Not from someone who was there for her. Who never asked why she stopped talking to Joel, why she begged you to switch patrols so she could avoid him. 

You were the last person who could see the good parts, despite digging through blood and tears to find them. And after Joel, she couldn’t afford to lose that. 

“Ellie?” you whispered, pulling her out of her thoughts. 

She wiped her tears away and nodded, giving you space to continue. 

“Is it alright if I clean your wounds?” 

You felt the need to get her approval.  

Doing her absolute best to stop those sobs from escaping her trembling lips, she covered her mouth and nodded again, giving you what you had asked for. 

You sat down quietly, right behind her, with your bucket, cloth, and nearly empty first aid kit you brought from Jackson. First, you cleaned the rest of the dry blood on her shoulders and lower back while she sat still. She let you help her, repeatedly wiping away the tears that were now heavily streaming down her bruised cheeks. 

Most of her wounds needed just some cleaning to prevent any further infection. You took your time with each one of them, making sure you were not hurting her anymore. She felt how delicate you were with your touch, how carefully you were trying to help her ease the pain.

The softness and care you had allowed her to forget about what she did out there for a second and enjoy the comfort you provided. 

A long exhale left her rosy lips. She found her mind drifting towards that the day; and the events that inevitably followed. She set her mind on leaving for Seattle the minute she left that place, despite Tommy’s desperate attempts to talk her out of it. Even when he decided to head out there first in order to protect her, she couldn’t appreciate the good thought. The pain clouded her judgment.

That day, when Tommy left, she fought with you for hours. It was the first time you saw Ellie since the horrific incident at the lodge. She was standing by your fireplace, announcing that she was leaving for Seattle and she was hoping (more like counting on the fact) that you were going to cover her ass while she quietly goes on her revenge quest.

And being the person you were and having the amount of love you had for her, of course, you would not let her go alone. 

“I don’t need a babysitter,” she stopped the minute she heard that proposal. “This isn’t your fucking business. And I’m not making you a part of that.” 

“I’m not asking for permission, Ellie,” you whispered, stepping closer to her. “I’m going with you, end of conversation.”

It went on for another twenty minutes when she was trying to talk out of you joining her. She was harsh, calling you a naive idiot more than once. But you knew that all those words, all this pain were coming from the same place of sadness she was trying to suppress. You would never hold any of this against her. 

Eventually, as she understood, it didn’t matter how hard she tried, how harsh she might have been to you. You were determined to go and there was nothing Ellie could change about that. 

Thinking about it now, weeks later, she felt guilty for the way she spoke to you. You were the last person who would deserve such treatment, given how faithfully you stood by her this whole time.

Throughout most of the days on the road, Ellie was withdrawn, immersed in her own thoughts. She wasn’t talkative but if she happened to say a word or two, she was taking out her own frustration on you.

After everything she said over the past couple of weeks, you had a full right to turn away at any point and head back home. But you didn't. 

You always stayed, despite how unbearable it was at times. Ensuring her that you were not going to walk away, in Seattle or anywhere else.

And now, as you were sitting here, cleaning her blood-stained spots and washing away the shame and guilt she had been wearing around, Ellie knew how high the stakes were—how petrifying was the thought of losing you. Despite her numerous attempts to chase you away, despite the fact that you never really established where you stood when it came to the other, you meant a lot to her. More than she was willing to admit. 

“Ellie, this one’s really deep. I’m gonna need to sew it,” you whispered, grabbing the needle and the thread, interrupting her thoughts. 

She didn’t respond, just left you to do your thing and stayed immersed in her head. 

“It’s probably gonna hurt a little,” you warned her before sticking the needle through the skin of her shoulder. 

“It won’t. I don’t feel anything,” she mumbled; for the first time. 

The response forced you to stop for a second and rethink what you have just heard. You didn’t know whether you should ask for more information. Instead, you finished your job and within a few minutes, the open wound was gone.

Ellie suddenly felt the coldness wrapping around her as soon as your hands left her body as you handed her a clean t-shirt from your backpack. 

“You should get some rest,” you whispered, standing up and grabbing the bucket with blood-soaked clothes. “I still have your snacks in my backpack, in case you were hungry.” 

There was no reaction from her. She put on the shit and stayed in the same spot, still not willing to face you. 

Part of you wanted to rush over and comfort her. But knowing how withdrawn she was lately, you didn’t want to drive her away any further. So you stood there for a second, with a bucket in your hands, and watched her, wiping away the tears from her puffy, red cheeks. 

“Please, don’t leave me.” 

It was the moment you reached for the doorknob, halfway out of the room, when she suddenly uttered that pleading statement. The walls she had been so determined to build around her aching existence were slowly falling to the ground, leaving her on her own.

There was a thought in Ellie’s head. Thought that appeared when she was gripping the iron pole, beating the words out of her enemy’s weakened body. Nora was on the verge of her own strength, not having any more power to fight Ellie, so she gave her friend up.

She handed Ellie what she came for in the first place, leaving her space to strike for one last time—finishing what she started, ending Nora’s prolonged suffering. 

And the moment she did that—hitting the one last punch, she saw you. She saw the thought of you in her mind and froze. She glanced down upon the lifeless body—but saw you. Saw you lying in your own blood, dying by her own hand. And for the first time, she feared the person she was becoming. Facing the outcome. 

Making you collateral damage of her revenge quest was a risk of its own. But being capable of hurting you on her own what was she feared the most. 

For a second, you had to process what you just heard. It wasn’t until the sobs that left her trembling mouth you felt the need to turn around and take a look at her. 

She was now standing right in front of you, finally daring to face you. 

Daring to face her what she feared the most. 

“I’m scared.”

For weeks now, she was quietly suffering, mourning in her thoughts. Now the pain crawled on the surface and she could no longer avoid it. For the first time, she let you see all of that—see the desperation in her faded green eyes and realize how long she has been suppressing all of this inside. 

“What are you scared of?” you whispered and took a step closer to her. 

She took a deep breath, trying to get ahold of her sobs before she continued, still looking into your eyes: “Of what I did.” 

You knew Ellie was not always as tough as she tried to portray herself. But seeing that right in front of you, seeing her falling down felt like a shot coming through your chest. 

“What did you do, Ellie?” 

There was a curiosity in your mind, followed by fear of what you might get. 

“I made her talk.” 

It was somehow enough. Enough to understand that the desperate need for a feeling of consolation was growing with each strike Ellie hit and with each toll it took on her.  

“Ellie—“ you took a step closer, reaching for her but she swiftly pulled away, shaking her head. 

“I’m scared,” she repeated, daring to look into your eyes. “What if I might—“

“No,” you stopped her without hesitation, knowing where this was headed. “You won’t.” 

Brushing her tears away, she suddenly looked down. “You don’t know that. You don’t know what I’m capable of. I don’t even know what I’m capable of.” 

There was a genuine worry in her voice, fear of her own self. But after all those years, after everything you’ve encountered together, you trusted her enough to confidently proclaim that she would never hurt you. 

You trusted her. But she didn’t trust herself, that was the core issue.

Which you became aware of the second she bursted into tears. 

Ellie was never quite an emotional person; she mostly tried to deal with everything on her own and as quietly as possible. Until now.

“I can’t lose you.” 

And there it was. 

The revelation between uncontrollable sobs made you come closer. 

“But I’m afraid it’s gonna happen anyway and it terrifies me to death.” 

She came to terms with the fact that you might never become hers, long before this. For all those years, Ellie yearned for you in silence, realizing she will accept any kind of role in your life, as long as she is part of it. Only now she was realising how dangerous this wish had become.

Because suddenly, there was a price. 

She was never more honest in her life than right now, displaying all of her worries in front of you. Displaying how important you were for her. For a moment, you thought, if there, perhaps, was more to her words. 

“You’re not gonna lose me, Ellie,” you whispered, slowly reaching for her hand, again. “That's just not gonna happen,” you intertwined your fingers with hers. 

“You don’t know that,” she mumbled, trying to pull away her hand but you stopped her. 

“I do. As long as I have a say in it,” you objected, stepping even closer. “No matter what you say, what you do. I’m not leaving. You can yell at me, for all I care—just like you did in my living room. But I told you then and I’m telling you now. I’m not leaving you, now or ever.” 

At that moment, Ellie suddenly didn’t know which thing she feared more. Whether it was the idea of losing you by her own force or knowing that despite her capacity to hurt you, you were never going to walk away.

Ellie couldn’t pull you into her darkness—but at the same time, she couldn’t leave you. You were her home, her whole world. Or at least, what was left of it. 

“Can you stay?” she pleaded, reaching for your other hand. 

You nodded, letting a fleeting smile slip onto your lips as you pulled her closer, wrapping both of your hands around her neck. She was hesitant at first but the second her body crashed against yours, she gave in. There was a sigh of relief escaping from her lips as she buried her head into your shoulder; tightly gripping your waist.

Making you realize how starved she must have been for that hug.

You stayed together in that little dressing room, lying together in the dark with Ellie’s hand caressing your cheek. You promised yourself to stay up and alert to watch over her but found yourself falling asleep in her arms. Now she was lying in front of you, studying your appearance, her mind drifting away to different ends. 

She wondered. About her. About you. 

She wondered if things were different, if perhaps, there was any other ending for you—one less threatening. She wondered if she would, under different circumstances, find the courage to finally confess. She wondered if the two of you would have a shot at having a relatively normal life together, despite the world you were living in. 

She wanted the best for you, and nothing less. She wanted to protect you. From the heinous world outside, and sometimes from herself as well. Looking at you, lying so peacefully next to her, she couldn’t help but think of Joel’s words. 

Perhaps now more than ever, Ellie was facing her own moral battle. There was someone in her life, someone for whom she would quite frankly walk to the edge of the universe and back. Someone whose life was carrying more value than her own. Feasibly, now she had a chance to understand the nature of his actions. 

When she had her own something to fight for. 

“Are you okay?” 

It was your voice that pulled Ellie out of her mind. 

She snapped out of her thoughts and saw your eyes.

“Did I wake you?” she whispered, concern in her voice. 

“No but you should’ve,” you chuckled. “I’m supposed to be making sure that you’re still breathing.” 

Ellie couldn’t help but laugh. “You’ve been doing that for the past couple of weeks. Now it’s my turn.” 

You felt her hand, still resting on your cheek. There was a look in her eyes that you could not quite define. In the darkness surrounding you, the two of you were staring into each other’s eyes.

Before she filled the silence with her voice. 

“Hey,” she mumbled, slowly drifting closer to you, her breath dancing on your lips. 

“Hm?” you raised your eyebrows, curious. 

“If things were different,” she whispered, guilt in her voice. “I would’ve given you a lot more than this.” 

Most of the time, Ellie struggled with her words. But now, it was crystal clear. In her own way, she made sure you knew how important you were.

For her.

You leaned closer, grabbing Ellie’s hand and intertwining your fingers. Only then, you looked into her eyes again and smiled, reassuring.

Message received.

“This,” you squeezed her hand, “is enough for me.”

“So, you think you can love even the least I can offer?” she whispered.

There was a smile on your lips. Smile that eased Ellie’s worried mind once you moved closer. “Been doing that for quite some time, already.”

She wanted to give you the world, that and so much more. In Ellie's eyes, that was what you deserved. She wanted to make sure you were going to be happy, despite the circumstances life had both given you.

Both of you were hoping for something else, for so much more.

Yet, you would never walk away. No matter the conditions you were under, you had each other. And that was enough. Enough to stay. Enough to do more than that.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfic #ellie williams tlou #the last of us part ii #tlou2 #ellie seattle day 2 #tlou x you #tlou x reader #the last of us x you #the last of us x reader #tlou oneshot

[geraltofriviacollection]

Chapter Eight

Paring: Geralt x Reader

Summary: Reader is thrown into the Witcher’s world. Will she survive? 

A/N: sorry that I haven’t posted anything in a while. I got a promotion at work and things have been crazy. Please enjoy this next chapter. I have not edited or proofread. Please do not repost, translate or copy my work without permission. Please leave comments! ❤️

The journey to The Temple of Melitele is a tense one. All of us are on edge for different reasons. Ciri because we wouldn’t let her kill herself. Geralt because he thinks Ciri is always hurling herself to deaths door and myself for well all of that and what’s coming next in this fucked story. The panic of what’s going to happen to Ciri comes crashing against me in waves. I know they are both picking up on my strange behavior.

Our first night away from the Witchers keep is oddly quiet. Once we have finished eating Ciri immediately settles into sleep. Something that I find out of character for her. Normally she is a chatter box full of questions, asking Geralt and I for stories. I walk over to the other side of the fire where Ciri has tucked herself into her palette.

“Are you alright? You’ve been rather quiet today.” I ask her softly as sit looking down at her young face.

“I’m fine.” She says not meeting my eyes. I narrowed my eyes at her before replying.

“Is this still about us not letting you become a Witcher?”

“No, This is about me not being able to make my own choices.” She explains finally looking at me.

“Ciri, I know why you want to sacrifice yourself so badly, but even after you will still have the guilt you feel at surviving what others did not. We want you to make your own choices. We also want you to make those choices for the right reasons.” I gently stoke back a loose piece of her hair before pressing a light kiss to her forehead. “Get some sleep.” I tell her before leaving her.

I walk back over to my spot on the other side of the fire. I stare at the flames so deeply I don’t notice geralt's return until he places a few larger sized logs he found on the fire. He comes and sits next to me while we both watch the warmth dancing in front of us.

“Is something going to happen?” Geralt ask breaking the silence. I look at him with shock and a questioning look. “I can tell now. You start behaving differently before.” He admits.

I feel that light ache as if warning me from saying too much. “Things have changed in ways that I didn’t expect and knowing but not knowing always sets me on edge.” I sigh, placing my head in my hands, rubbing my eyes with my palms. Geralt pulls my hand away from my face and I find myself staring into golden eyes that reminds me of the sun itself. He looks at me gently stroking the back of my hand with his thumb.

“ Most would have ran off by now but you are still here. Stop overthinking and underestimating your ability to handle whatever may come. You can’t let fear consume you. Ciri needs you….I need you.” He admits. His words bring heat to my cheeks.

The softness of how he looks at me makes my heart begin to pound in a new way. I swallow as my throat feels dry in the intimacy of this moment. My tongue darts out to wet my lips and his eyes dart down to catch the movement.

I take his advice and bring my lips to his before I can overthink it. My eyes close as I move my lips against his, it takes a second to realize he’s not kissing me back. As I start to pull away he places a on the back of my neck as his thumb strokes my lower jaw and he kisses me back. The kiss is full of emotion that I can’t place. His tongue darts out and licks the seam of my lips. I squeak in surprise. I feel him as he pulls away. His thumb lightly strokes over my swollen bottom lip. I open my eyes to see a strange expression on his face.

“What is it?” I ask, pulling his hand from my face.

“I may not be able to give you what you want.” He says looking down at our entwined hands. He stands and starts to pull away from me. The reasonable part knows I should let this go and never speak of this again especially because of what’s yet to come. I start to let him go but a voice whispers “He might not choose her.”

I grab him tighter, stopping him from pulling away from me. “I want you to give me what you can and I will do the same for you. Only what we can.” I emphasized,looking up at him. He pauses for what feels like a dozen beats of my heart. Then he turns back to me and looks back down at my hands before meeting my eyes.

“Only what we can.” He agrees before sitting back down next to me. Geralt grabs my hand again and we simply sit there staring into the fire.

The next day I’m consumed with the thoughts of Geralt's lips on mine and the ‘only what we can’ agreement will mean when we get to the temple. Even after Geralt's encouragement not to worry I can’t help but have some anxiety of what’s coming. The day has passed by with my being stuck in my own head. I have to force myself to tune in to the beginnings of an argument between the two of them.

“…..We were safe.” Ciri says. This is the first time I have head her speak since we left Kaer Morhen.

“The trial of grasses isn’t safe.” Geralt replies. I sigh already knowing where this conversation is going. It’s enough to make me want to throw myself off Roach just to not have to hear this argument again.

“Not Listening again.”

“You want to kill yourself trying to become a mutant so if you survive you can killl yourself trying to get revenge. Which part did I miss?” Geralt dully remarks. Ciri opens her mouth to reply, I cut her off.

“We are not starting this all over again. I feel like I can literally say what is coming next from each of you. You both make good points. I mean for goodness sakes both of you…”

Geralt pauses Roach and looks up at the trees. A small tingle runs down my spine. As the air becomes still. We continue forward reaching the lake.

“This is the shallowest part of the river. I’ll check that it’s safe to cross.”

“What do you mean safe?” Ciri ask

“I’ll try and draw it out first.” He says look out to the water.

“Draw what out?” Ciri frowns. If he could just give a little more detail on the front end I swear we could save hours worth of this.

“It’s some type of chernobog.” Geralt answers.

“I don’t know what that is.”Ciri Replies.

“I’m sure whatever the hell it is, it's not good.” I mutter under my breath. Geralt tells us to say where we are and he walks into the water. He’s only thigh deep when a monster with wings appears out of the sky. Ciri calls Geralt back as the beast nears. My heart starts pumping harder.

Geralt pushes the monster back with an invisible blow. It recovers before flying back, geralt tries to hit the beast again but only catches the foot. The thing screeches and makes a dive toward us. Geralt shouts for us to get down. I push ciri from the horse. She tumbles to the ground. I push off just as something catches the back of my right shoulder. I cry out as I finally hit the ground. Geralt shouts for us to run.

Ciri and I get up and run for cover as Geralt looks around for the monster. After a few moments Geralt motions us out from where we’re hiding. Ciri runs to roach , seeing her on the ground. The deep cuts on the end of her body from the monster. Ciri and Geralt both lean down to comfort her. I look away, tears forming in my eyes.

“Is there anything we can do?” Ciri ask. Geralt pulls a small knife. Ciri walks to me and places her head on my shoulder. I hear the sound of roach’s last breaths. I hum to ciri to cover over the sound of the knife cutting into Roach. Geralt stands, I pull gently away turning from Ciri and place a hand on Geralt's arm. He brings his large hand to cover mine.

“I think we might have a problem.” Ciri calls out a bit frantically.

“What is it?” I ask turning back to her. I grab her face turning it from side to side. Pull away and look over her. “Are you hurt?” I ask still inspecting her. She steps back from my hands and look behind me with wide eyes. I turn to Geralt. “What on earth is wrong?” I almost shout panic is rising in my throat.

“You’re injured.” He says walking up and turning me around.

“I don’t feel anything” I tell him to try to pull away.

“That’s either shock or adrenaline.” He places his hand on my right shoulder and I jolt away from him. The pain slams into me at his touch. “I think you got caught by the claws jumping from Roach.” He explains. I twitch in pain.

“Stand still.” He almost growls.

“Well now I can feel it and it hurts.” I say still squirming. He holds a firm hand on my neck and shoulder to stop me from moving as he places a bandage on it. “That will have to do for right now to slow down the bleeding.” He says tying the last knot I wince a bit. The monster screeches coming back for a second go around.

“It’s time.” Geralt says walking over to ciri. “Are you ready for this?” He asks, looking at her. Ciri nods her head saying yes and Geralt gives her instruction to go up on top of the rock. She looks at me and I nod encouragingly. She heads that way and Geralt turns back to me, pulling a small bottle from his pouch drinking the contents. The black webs form around his face and when his eyes open blackness. Has covered the golden hue I have found myself so fond of. “Stay here.” He says before stalking forward into the forest.

The beast spots Ciri from the rock and aims right for her diving down. I feel the warmth come and my skin begins to glow as the beast gets closer. I have a ball of light aimed and ready when Geralt appears from nowhere and slices through the best causing it to fall crashing to the ground. The forest shakes as the huge body lands.

We continue on our journey and my back stings in pain from the rake of the bog monster's claws. I’ve definitely slowed down the pace of the entire group. The Temple of Melitele finally comes into sight after hours of walking. I stumble as we pause to look. Geralt shoots me a look before walking over to me and placing a hand on my head then grunting. He turns me around my back facing him and I stand there looking at Ciri.

“You’re losing too much blood.” He says pulling the quickly made bandage away.

“Will she be alright?” Ciri calls out looking past me to Geralt as I hear something tear behind me and something presses against my wound. I grit my teeth at the feeling.

“I'll be fine. I’m sure the temple has talented healers that will fix me right up.” I reassure her. She comes and holds my hand in comfort. Geralt puts more pressure on my wounds I grunt. He holds it there for a minute until he begins tying things back in place. Once he finishes he moves in front of me and just stares.

“Can you make it the rest of the way?” He finally asked me. I nod my head, I start walking to prove how fine I am. Something happens behind me and I hear their footsteps join mine. A short time later Geralt scoops me into his arms.

“You can put me down. I’m fine.” I tell him quietly glancing over a Ciri who is strangely interested in the sky without clouds. I look back up at Geralt who just grunts and rolls his eyes.

“You’re slowing us down and I would like to reach the temple before night falls.” He says looking dead ahead. I start to open my mouth but he cuts me off. “This is me giving you what I can.” He leans down and whispers. My mouth closes and I settle back in his arms with pink cheeks.

@freegardenbanananeck @kas0417 @lillianacristina @mxtokko @wonderlandfandomkingdom @lovemesomuchhh @novaacanee

#geralt x reader #geralt of rivia #the witcher #geralt fanfic #geralt x you #geralt and ciri #geralt x y/n

[dadsbongos]

P(AV) IN V

word count - 1.5 k / warnings - unprotected sex, pinv sex, vanilla :), make up sex, fem reader who wears skirt, not beta read

summary - you and pav fight... and then make up :3 with cool kitchen counter sex ~~~

“Late,” your words slice through the warm air as soon as the front door stutters open. Your icy tone dregs that welcomed warmth, blistering it down a raw, unforgiving chill, “Hours late.”

Pavel flashes a cheesy grin, manually crinkling the corners of his eyes, “My love! You’re alive, and you’re well! We’re both still alive and well,” his rambling persists as he slides through your frigid doorway and politely stops at the shoe rack, “How amazing is that, dearest? We could perish at any given moment should All-mer will, and yet we both still stand. Breathing. And well. And still…” he sighs, hesitant to break eye contact and pull off his boots (fearful your teeth will latch onto his neck the instant it's unguarded), “Still in love.”

Your folded arms remain firm over your chest, but the stiffness of such a guarded stance at least gives Pavel the confidence you won’t pounce as he unties his shoes.

“Yes, thank All-mer, my free fool has returned home. And in a lieutenant’s uniform no less… he shames us and his beloved All-mer for that. But yes, thank All-mer he’s home,” he’s wincing at the sting of your words, knowing exactly how terribly he’s set himself up, “Three hours late.”

Pavel finishes removing his muddied boots and settling them on the bottom layer of the rack in silence. Once that job is finished, he cannot hide behind the chore any longer -- now, he is forced to confront the full wrath of a woman scorned. Not just any woman, the only woman he’s sworn himself to; and not just any kind of scorn, the kind bred from arriving three hours late for anniversary dinner.

Finally, he weaves his fingers together at the pelvis and stares with those silvery sharp eyes; golden curls that have played you like a fiddle many times before falling over his forehead. As if he’s some kind hearted businessman from the center of town pleading for his wife’s forgiveness rather than the man he actually is.

He hasn’t even presented you with a ring, yet.

“I’m very, very late,” Pavel confirms, but it’s the last you want to hear. You already know this, what you want to know is what his reasoning could possibly be -- what made him think it was appropriate to come home without so much as a bouquet of flowers? He suspires sharply, so sharp it feels like a stab right in his lung, and shoulders scrunch towards his ears defensively, “I don’t have an excuse.”

“Pav…” you’re not keen as to why you trouble yourself groaning his name. It solves nothing, the only solace you scavenge is knowing it makes guilt bloom in his chest.

Even that is shallow.

“I don’t,” Pavel removes his hat and strips the monster’s hide from his back. Another way you know Pavel is not like the businessmen in town, when he steps forward more parts bare than clothed -- only a fraction of his intent is libido, “I was working, and then it was eight.”

“‘Working’,” you scoff, turning against the kitchen counter to pore into the steel sink. Colored blobs have pooled in the bottom, shifting in time with your unsteady rocking, “You’re obsessive, this is destructive. You’re going nowhere.”

“I told you,” now his sorrow is adopting irritation, brows furrowing and jaw tensing, “I told you exactly who I was, and you said you could live with it. I told you what I wanted for my life, and you went along with me anyway. I am sorry that I’m late, but don’t you dare pretend I’m doing this regardless of you.”

Unfortunately, you cannot dissent those points. Pavel was upfront that his life’s goal was different from other men. He was willing to meet standards such as marriage or pets or owning a two-story home, but didn’t need those things. He needed to kill the Kaiser. He needed revenge. He needed Godblood on his hands.

You were an unforeseen, much appreciated, highlight on his otherwise dismal path.

And now he was muddying it all, wasn’t he?

Pavel trudges further into the kitchen, naked bar the whities on his hips and socks on his feet. He’s comfortable again, and you must be too because your shoulders slacken. He feels more human now than he had during his entire drag of work. The men he bunks with are as hideous as wild animals, their immortal stench somehow worse. Pavel had begged for this temporary leave since the turn of the new year.

Only to finally return to you hours later than he’d promised. Pavel wisens himself to feel the shame searing through every heartbeat.

“I’m sorry,” he slinks up behind you at the sink, tender arms and soft cheek melting your frostbitten exterior, “I have no excuse,” he brushes loose hairs from your temple, fingertips kissing tenderly over your skin seconds before his lips do, “You’re right, dear. I should’ve paid you more mind, but I am not graced with tact. I will be better to you.”

One of the things that drew you and Pavel to each other was a mutual understanding of fire. And hatred. And hiding beneath slumped bodies until soldiers left. You understand Pavel as much as you’re irritated with him. His obsession is your obsession. If you’d been able to dedicate yourself to combat training and wearing their ranks, you’d be no better than him.

“You’re forgiven,” you heave the words as you turn, floating your arms to loop around his neck, “But I wish you’d find a way to be more sensitive to these things.”

“I will,” he soothes.

In an effort to shift the mood, you poke a finger against his bare chest, skin cool from being exposed all day even in his discarded uniform, “Showing off to your superiors again?”

He snorts, a sly smile overtaking his face, “I have to advance at every given opportunity.”

“Bremen whore,” you ‘tsk’.

“Yes, yes, I love the attention.”

“You do have a very lovely body.”

And Pavel most certainly does love your attention.

“Oh, you don’t say?” his breathing turns cursory upon the implication of your words, “Would the pretty lady be willing to demonstrate?”

“She might. If you can promise to be good for her.”

“Always,” he swears it.

You jump back onto the kitchen counter, tugging Pavel between your thighs by the ankles around his waist, “Liar. Make it up to me.”

“If I must,” he makes a show of sighing, kneading the fat of your thighs -- pulling you closer to the edge. Calloused hands burrow under your skirts, tossing the flowing material up and snagging your panties down.

Giggling deliriously, you spread your legs as easily as he maneuvers them. Pavel slicks his right hand with his own saliva, then tucking the wetted digits inside you while thumbing your clit. He’s selfish at the end of the day, removing his fingers (sans the thumb twirling your bundle of nerves) to push his trousers halfway down his thick thighs.

He slides inside you with a heady grown, hands clenching tight around the fat of your hips. His brows pinch and lips pucker, neck craning to mouth at your neck. Kissing as he bucks leisurely into your drooly cunt, always dragging you closer. Pinning your hips with his as he babbles against your skin, nuzzling as if you’re silken.

Pavel pants and whimpers into your ear, greedily soaking up the way your nails dig into his arms and moans sing his name.

“Louder, my love,” he begs, a particular thrust driving your hips back on the counter. His hands claw you back down, “The neighbors should bang down our door- be louder, my love.”

“Insatiable,” you manage to squeal out, head tossing back until your crown is smothering the cold, hard cupboard behind you. Pavel nods shamelessly, now kissing up your cheek to your lips. Drowning out your cries despite his pleas to hear every single one.

Pavel staples you in place, pausing only a moment before hurriedly stuffing you with his cock. He stretches over you, again avaricious for your mouth on his, muffling his own groans under the sloppy stirs of his speedy thrusts. His thumb matches pace, drawing the shiver of his own name, narcissistically, into the apex of your thighs. Your mixing juices soaking his skin. Were he not edging close to climax, Pavel would be tempted to sink to his knees and worship with his mouth. The thought sears through his veins, body seizing -- he hunches unflatteringly, clutching you flush as he cums.

The sensation paired with his devoted attention to your clit cinches the knot in your gut, thighs squished around Pavel’s waist and gasps ragged.

“You’re so handsome when you’re not being a terror,” you coo as Pavel lays his head on your chest.

He snorts quietly, nodding and curling both arms around you, “So tired. You should carry me to our room.”

“If we move, you’re doing the carrying,” you yawn, scooting down to rest your back flat on the counter (causing the both of you to whimper in overstimulation at the jostling).

After a brief respite, Pavel murmurs, half-asleep on your chest, “I’m content to sleep here.”

“Of course…” you yawn again, louder, and scratch your nails through his tangled hair, “I am, too.”

“Of course,” he mimics, laughing tiredly even when you sharply yank a lock of his hair.

#pavel x reader #pavel yudin x reader #pav x reader #fear and hunger x reader #fear and hunger fanfic

[kakuzatos]

kobeni’s devil

!! spoilers for chainsaw man !!

so, episode 9 came out and i watched it with vigor. as expected, kobeni slayed this episode and didn’t disappoint me with her moves. damn, she was quick. you really can’t have a pure hatred for kobeni, it will always have love in the mix. 

and while i was thinking about her, i got curious about her devil again. really, what is this big secret... why was she the only one who got out alive after 100 chapters while other characters like aki and power were ultimately killed off? she surely has relevance in the plot and there is a reason why her devil is concealed as a secret. a devil like that would be thought of as a dangerous one because kobeni can’t even say its name. 

naturally, i go to a full-on zoning out session thinking of the many possibilities of kobeni’s devil. 

i. well, first, i thought of the possibility of her being a devil that has a human-like appearance like makima, yoru and fami. that is a good theory, but her having a family and a brother denounces it a bit. i’m not saying that devils don’t have families and aren’t capable of being raised by one (makima was raised by the government, that’s why she’s like the way she is, if that ever counts as a family). i’m not particularly fond with this one, though, since kobeni is pretty much the most human person in the whole cast. i mean, look at her. 

scared shitless. if she was a devil, she would’ve been happy. devils thrive on fear, they don’t live with it. that would be pretty fun, though. 

ii. moving on. she could have a contract with the death devil. it’s probably the most overstated theory and for good reason. first of all, i’ve read this comment in a reddit post about a totally unrelated, regardless interesting, observation on chapter 113.

the comment reads: 

Getting back to my tangent about the Four Horsemen: the Four Horsemen are unique because, unlike normal devils, who only use fear, the Horsemen are each able to use one of the four emotions unique to humans, listed by the Doll Devil in ch 63:

Conquest uses Worship (aka reverence). So long as humans revere her, they hold her in a "higher place", allowing her to control them. Put from her POV, that means that, so long as the human is "lower" than her, she can control them.

Conquest bends the "rules" around devil contracts in two ways. The first way is obvious - she can force "lesser" humans to submit to her contracts. The second way is by being able to claim ownership over other devils. This means that, unlike a normal devil, Conquest can use other devils like as though they were part of her own body. This gave her the ability to use Angel's powers as though they were her own. This also means she could offer the bodies of other devils in her contracts, as we saw with Aki and the Gun Devil.

War uses Guilt. The greater the guilt she feels, the stronger the weapon she creates. The irony here is that War is so selfish and so absent of the understanding of right and wrong that she's unable to feel much guilt over anything she does. She blames Pochita for her current weakness, but really, she's inherently pretty weak compared to the other Horsemen, just because of this anti-synergy with her own power.

War bends the "rules" by forming completely lopsided "contracts". Like Makima, Yoru removes the human's consent from the equation - if she claims ownership, so long as it's something she can touch, she can weaponize it. But the person turned into a weapon gains nothing from it, the only benefactor is Yoru. Completely one-sided "contracts".

Famine uses Adoration/Respect. We'll see what this means exactly later, but I think I kind of touched on it in my other comment. War and Famine are a yin and yang duo - Yoru is "night", while the heart of Justice "shines with light". And while Yoru is completely selfish and devoid of the understanding of good and evil, Famine seems stuck doing things for others (in other words, is "selfless"), all while being very concerned with the understanding of good and evil. Yoru's power is based on guilt, aka, being able to sense the evil in yourself. So hence, I suspect Famine's "Respect"-based powers are based on being able to sense the good in other people.

Famine bends the "rules" by also forming completely lopsided contracts. The difference is, while Yoru only takes... as Yuko pointed out, Justice only gives. My guess is that, if Famine senses that a human is "good", she can form zero-cost contracts.

Death uses Pity. Pity is the feeling you get when you watch other living things suffer. The idea that Death gets stronger from feelings of pity sends shivers down my spine...

This is especially the case if it's true that every Horseman is trying to cancel out the source of their own power. Conquest's dream is to form equal, nonhierarchical, relationships, which flies in the face of a being whose power is based on hierarchy. So if Death wants to be rid of the "source of its power", too, then wouldn't it have to get rid of all suffering?

notice something about death. death is also powered by pity. kobeni is pretty damn pitiful in almost all her screentime, manga or anime, except her fabulous show in episode 9. but she did experience a lot of torment and she is generally seen as pitiful. maybe, just maybe, that pity she gets from other people is what feeds the death devil. and having to survive all what happened in the past arcs, i wouldn’t be surprised if she ever was involved with such a mortifying devil like the death devil. she dodged death in multiple occasions, it’s like death sided with her. another thing, in hell or chapter 63-64, the darkness devil didn’t even try to kill her. maybe it’s scared?

it’s also such a fun concept to think about. this traumatized girl who is about to shit herself has a contract with the death devil. fucking metal. the thought alone deserves its own book. 

iii. kobeni has a contract with the luck devil! a lot of people agree with this one! i don’t know if it’s good luck or bad luck, though. she seems to somehow have both, so i’m not sure. many people do lean into the idea of a “chance devil”, but i’m pretty certain, if that was the case, it would be the “bad luck” or “misfortune” devil. if there was a luck devil, why would anyone fear good luck? it would’ve been extremely weak because, in retrospect, no one would fear good luck. 

so, bad luck. in this article, it stated that kobeni somehow feeds the bad luck devil with her own bad luck and fear, explaining why she doesn’t sacrifice her body parts. 

although this is good, personally i don’t favor it too much. fujimoto is known for his chaotic direction of his manga and always being spontaneous that you can’t predict it, but it’s done so, in a way, that it’s orchestrated. hints are left, foreshadowing is present; it’s chaotic but makes sure to make sense to us too. a good story should make sense while maintaining its unpredictability. so, a death devil is already hinted. a bad luck devil is not. (yet) 

well, this theory will just have to wait for a while. maybe, there will be a time when a bad luck devil will appear or get mentioned. 

iv. in this post, kobeni is theorized to be contracted with a devil connected to survival. for one, if that devil were to be connected to survival, it could either mean: a fear of death or a fear of getting hurt. 

a fear of death relates to the death devil. 

a fear of getting hurt relates to a pain devil of some sorts. a pain devil would be cool because it will be powerful. almost all humans are scared of being hurt and will make a bit more sense in the storyline, considering that her line of work is potentially getting hurt and seeing others getting hurt because of her. pretty neat theory! 

v. same post in iv, there’s a comment where she might be have a contract with the knife devil. although, there is no evidence to back this up, her main weapon of choice is a knife. in a way, it makes sense.  

v. car devil. no questions. in fact, according to u/LeynaSepKim, it was even foreshadowed in chapter 5, in their post.

all are only speculation! feel free to correct me or add some other theories. the only thing we can do to form more theories and solidify existing ones is to wait. we have yet to see her full potential. she is shown to be athletic in the anime and the manga, but not her power in its entirety. 

#kobeni #chainsaw man #theory #csm #csm theory #analysis #kakutxt #she's pretty sus

[laundrybiscuits]

Hah, thanks @beansthekid for giving me a chance to ramble a bit more!

I think there are many different and equally valid ways to interpret Eddie’s relationship with the Corroded Coffin crew; we really do not get very much canon material at all, which means it’s all very open to interpretation. However, I personally tend to read them as friendly acquaintances more than friends, because Eddie doesn't seem to treat them with any true closeness.

In the few scenes they share, Eddie sort of treats them like undifferentiated sidekicks/minions/audience. He seems basically fond of them, and I don't think his attitude comes from any sort of disrespect or dislike. Rather, I think it’s more about Eddie’s own comfort level: in general, I read Eddie as very skittish about relationships. He likes to keep people at a certain remove, and he likes to be in control of that distance.

We don't see him confiding in anyone or being intentionally vulnerable...right up until Steve and "guess I got a little jealous." Even with Chrissy, though he was definitely trying to present himself as friendly and harmless, he was absolutely putting on a little performance the entire time. He was taking on an entertainer role. He's willing to be seen as ridiculous, because that's the class-clown side of him, but it's not the same thing as letting down his guard. People laughing at him for his antics can't hurt him, at this point. Admitting he's fond enough of Dustin to make that a weakness, and being honest about feeling inadequate—that is vulnerability.

I do think it's plausible that that little jealousy confession was prompted in part by guilt over the whole broken-bottle thing. To be clear, I don't think Eddie's boatshed reaction was wildly out of line; at that point, he had zero information/context that would lead him to conclude that anyone out looking for him was on his side, much less Steve Harrington.

He was also scared out of his mind and literally shaking with adrenaline and fear, but he still didn’t actually hurt anyone. He could have shanked Steve and made a run for it, but I read him as someone who fundamentally does not want to hurt or scare people for real. He wants to make them uncomfortable, sure—or at the very least he doesn’t really care if they’re made uncomfortable by how he looks and acts. But actually being the villain of a story? That doesn’t fit with his values or his self-image.

So it would make sense if afterwards, he felt an outsized and misplaced sense of guilt about that little encounter, and let that spur him to offer up a little bit of honesty. It’s an intimacy he doesn’t extend to anyone else in the entire show.

I mean—hell, I am fully fixated on this little exchange:

Nancy: Hey, it’s Nancy.

Eddie: Wheeler, hey!

It would be way, way more natural to mirror her intro and call her Nancy, but instead he does this weird surname thing (and continues to call her by her surname) despite the fact that he already knows another Wheeler who is presumably also potentially tuned in. Why on earth would he do this. There are so many siblings in the group. The only way I can make sense of it is as a distancing mechanism that he leans on.

By the end, he does start addressing some people by their first names, some of the time. I haven’t done a full accounting, but I’m pretty sure it’s mostly just Dustin and Steve (not counting the “this is for you, Chrissy” moment).

But back to the Corroded Coffin lads: the biggest tell, for me, is that they had band practice without him. They knew he was missing, and either they knew he’d be a suspect/in trouble or they didn’t know him well enough to recognize his trailer on the news. They’re just kids, so it’s fairly reasonable that they wouldn’t be trying to take any action to find/help Eddie, but it seems unbearably callous that they’d just be having a normal band practice. I still don’t really know how to fold that into my understanding of their dynamics, but one possible interpretation is that they aren’t used to thinking of him as someone who ever really gets hurt, so they figure it’ll all just blow over somehow.

Eddie’s obviously taken on a leadership position in their little group. He’s the DM, he runs the show. But we don’t have a sense that he’s got a second-in-command or a trusted advisor that he confides in, much less someone he sees as a true peer in a give-and-take way.

Again, I don’t think any of this means he doesn’t like the Corroded Coffin boys. On the contrary, I think he probably cares about them very much in the same way he loves Dustin. My read on Eddie is that he sees himself as a protector who is in some way responsible for them and their well-being, cultivating an interdependent community that he doesn’t really get to partake in. His sense of self-worth lies in his ability to be a shield, standing between his lost little sheep and the wolves of Hawkins. He draws fire and takes the hits, and that’s a very lonely position to be in.

And then…Steve Harrington.

#askbox #stranger things meta #this is very disorganized but hopefully the main ideas come through #general caveat as always that the most straightforward explanation is 'inadequate/inconsistent writing' #but this is the characterization/dynamic that I've more or less settled on as best fitting my understanding of the narrative #ST meta for TS

[cool-thymus]

can i get uhhh no3 and a no10 for the nart questions pls? (hi thymus!!)

Hiiii, Ard! thanks for being interested in my opinion xD I'll start with THE question hehe

10. OTP Who could that be...? 🤔😅 I'm going to use this opportunity to finally make a verbal statement about why i love my otp so much. I started watching Naruto as an experiment in 2022 (at the ripe age of 28) and the land of waves arc got to me: Haku's death (and the way Zabuza used him -yes, i have beef with that guy) got my empathy involved, and Kakashi-sensei charmed me by being incredibly cool AND mysterious. The mysterious part about the origin of his sharingan intrigued me the most: what do you mean "a friend gave it to him"??? who is this friend? where is he? are they still friends? All those questions needed answers. So i learned about Obito Uchiha (mostly through fanart). Then i cried my eyes out watching Kakashi Gaiden and stalled the war arc as long as i could because i knew what was going to happen, and by then i’d already fallen in love with them beyond reason.

Before anything else, this ship is so powerful because separately Kakashi and Obito are incredibly well-written characters. Yes, they complete each other and share their arc till the end, but nevertheless, each of them is autonomous, believable, complex, and deep. They are both the main dish. So the dynamic, the bond they establish between them feels true and natural. One has this sunshine personality, is kind, caring, tenderhearted, and fun; the other has too much to deal with for his age: being a genius will mess with your pride and sense of worth, but not with your tiny, pure, brave heart. Kid Obito and kid Kakashi are so precious, you wanna shield them from everything that is wrong with the world. And then tragedy №1 and tragedy №2 happen that push these two boys to realize they were supposed to be each other’s lifeline. Obito got a head start over Kakashi though. When Kakashi finally sees Obito for who he really is, the sacrifice is already made, leaving Kakashi attached to his lifeline that goes nowhere. 

Tragedy №3 crushes their souls one more time and marks the beginning of the horrendous paths they take: Kakashi drowning himself in guilt and the violence of ANBU missions; Obito being groomed, brainwashed and manipulated into a gruesome conspiracy that perverted his ideals. And despite everything that happens next, they still hold on to their lifeline (the shared sharingan serving as the visualization). They are loyal to each other in their own ways. Kakashi lets his memory of Obito guide him and help him live, while Obito never seeks vengeance or takes the eye back. He even goes beyond imaginable and saves Kakashi’s life one last time. 

They were written to be tragic, but they were also meant to be special. If only Kishimoto had more sympathy and allowed Obito another chance. Those two precious boys could start all over. And this time, post war, their respect, longing, sorrow, adoration, grief, regrets, hopes would be shared, and the love that had struggled to grow for so long would finally be in full blossom.

(and they’re both hot af)

3. Favorite villain

(No worries, sweet anon, i don’t consider Obito a villain xD) The key villains like Madara or Danzo remind me of middle-aged men who get hung up on conspiracy theories and start believing that they have the world figured out. So they are more annoying than scary to me. And a villain should be frightening, i think. In the ninja world this would be Orochimaru. He’s an egomaniac, a sensible madman, who is deceitful, merciless, and cruel. We were shown such atrocities, so much abuse, torture, and physical pain inflicted on innocent people. And for what? I’m not sure i fully understand his motives: was it out of fear of death? Or is this just him doing what he loves? He IS the worst, and yet, by the end of shippuden he turns into a comedy bit?! Seriously?! This is all kinds of wrong xD But the facts remain, he is a good villain, creepy and scary.

To lighten up the mood i'll attach this scene from Rock Lee and his Ninja Pals that shows the funniest wtf-ish way to defeat Orochimaru xD (now i wonder what else Kakashi can do with his water jutsu ..)

the nart questions

#i tried my best to give a concise answer concerning obkk #they rlly mean the world to me #i hope this came across #thanks for playing the game with me xD #obkk #orochimaru #asks

[sirowsky]

Part 24 - Progress Takes Time

Pero Tovar and Female Reader (nicknamed Bee) Modern AU

You're trying to navigate helping William whilst also circumventing Pero's overprotective tendencies.

Creator chooses not to use Warnings! This is 18+ONLY! I'm so sorry for the wait, my loves! I'm once again battling myself to try and not put so much pressure on myself to write, and that means taking it slow and letting it happen naturally. I hope someone out here still enjoys the story, and again, I'm sorry for being so erratic with my updates <3

Word Count: 4168 Masterlist(this story) Author’s Masterlist

Link to Part 25

<><><><><><><><><><>

   Groot had been so focused on your partner, trying to comfort him from the pain of his own guilt, while you’d stepped into the cell, that even he had reacted too late to help you.    And when his human brother had leapt onto his feet once he’d realized what you’d been doing, the dog had remained frozen to the spot on the floor where he’d laid beside Pero, with his ears and head held low.

   Almost as if your actions had been so determined and sure that you had even managed to convince the animal that he wouldn’t be able to stop you, even before you’d stepped away from them.    If so, that might explain why Groot still didn’t move as Pero pulled you from the room and slammed the door shut.

   “Pintora, what the fuck were you thinking!? He could’ve killed you!” he barked at you, but his voice was weak and fractured, overwhelmed by the fear of knowing just how easily he could’ve lost you right then.

   “He stopped, Pero,” you countered, with tears still streaming down your face and a terrible tremble bothering your empty hands. “He stopped.”

   “You got lucky…” he cautioned, because he was not at all ready to believe that William had deliberately backed off.

   But you soured then, as if his perspective was offensive for some reason, and stepped away from him to pick up the little piglet that you’d dropped on the floor when you’d caught him earlier.    Crossing your arms over your chest, you pinned the stuffed animal at the top of your belly, which already seemed to be your favourite spot for it, and glared at him.

   “I understand that you’re still frightened of him, but I’m telling you that he heard me. I got to him, I could see it in his eyes.”

   “Bee… if you ever step foot in that cell again-…”

   “You’ll what?” you cut him off, challenging him to reveal his fears in full and stop hiding behind the other man’s evil.

   Pero wasn’t strong enough to admit to himself that this was all the result of his own failure, but he also couldn’t conceal his weakness anymore.    He crumbled under your strength, unable to fathom how you simply weren’t afraid of the man right then, feeling so small compared to you and the massiveness of your confidence in that moment.

   “You can never trust him, mi amor…” he finally whispered, unable to bring any more strength to his voice. “He will kill you if you let him, you must believe that.”

   He felt so powerless standing there, all but begging you not to put yourself in danger, when he should’ve just made sure that you never could again. But somehow, he knew in his heart that you would not be stopped, no matter the risk.    You had walked into that cell with a conviction of some sort, a knowledge that Pero wasn’t privy to and probably couldn’t understand even if he had been.

   You had walked in there knowing… knowing that you would walk out alive. Not just believing it but knowing it so absolutely that even William had felt it in you.

   “What I believe, is that if we keep going like we have until now, we’re gonna end up destroying both ourselves and each other,” you calmly stated. “And I will not let that happen.    I will defend this family, Pero… even against you.”

   That brought his mind to an abrupt stop, because what the hell did that mean? He had never been the threat… had he?

   But the more he thought about it, the clearer the answer became.    He wasn’t a threat so much as the weak link in the chain. The one that put everyone at risk, because if he broke, the people around him would all suffer.    He’d been unable to kill Will, unable to break him, unable to stop this darkness from hurting you and your family, and now, his hope was faltering.

   Of course, you had to protect yourself from him. He wasn’t giving you any other option.

   “The killing has to stop,” you said softly, coming closer again and uncrossing one arm so that you could take his hand. “We can’t let ourselves become monsters.    William is innocent, so if we’re gonna kill him, we have to do it out of kindness, not hate or fear. Only as a last resort, after all other options are exhausted and he still hasn’t improved.    But we’re not there yet.    He heard me, honey. I know that he did, so we have to give him one more chance before we can say that ending his life would be an act of mercy.”

   Impossibly, hearing the strength in your voice and the quiet but absolute resolve to not let this situation bring you down, managed to give him back some of his hope.    Within your courage, he found a way to believe you, even though his own strength had long since left him. Somehow, you were powerful enough to carry the both of you forwards, refusing to let anything threaten your happily ever after, and he had never loved you more.

<><><><><><><> 

   It would take several weeks of carefully measured steps before William even interacted with you the first time.    You started with offering him fresh clothes and full meals every day, all of which he refused for almost a week, until the hunger finally got the better of him.    The food slowly restored his strength, and with that, his temper returned.

   It was clear that he was still very much suffering the effects of the conditioning and the compulsion to complete his mission of killing you, that much was visible in his eyes every time that he looked at you.    But there was doubt in there too. Something that you suspected came from the man underneath all the suffering and manipulation. The real William Garin.    The problem was getting that man to take back control of himself.

   One positive aspect, and the primary reason why you refused to give up, was that even when you repeatedly put yourself within his reach, he never tried to touch you. And you didn’t think that that was solely because of Pero’s presence in the cell every time that you tried it.    Obviously, your partner was much too worried to let you be in there with your would-be assassin alone, but even so, Will’s focus was only ever on you whenever he did react.

   You tried not to think to closely about what you knew that Pero had done to him, and what you guessed that he might’ve been unable to tell you.    It wasn’t really helpful anyway, and you’d always known him to be capable of terrible things, but the real reason why you stayed away from it, was simply that it scared you to linger on the realization that he could do these things to a man that he loved.

   But you also couldn’t judge him for it.    You couldn’t condemn his actions anymore than you could hold it against him that he’d sent you away, because you had no idea how dangerous his world really was.    That was what all this had finally taught you. That for all the crap that you’d seen and learned in the time that you’d known him, Pero’s world was still too dark for you to ever truly grasp.

   You saw it in Will’s eyes too. The knowledge that he possessed and the power that someone with their training and experience had at their disposal.    And it wasn’t until you recognized that look in his eyes as the same darkness that you’d always seen in your partner, that you began to understand that you’d only seen a fraction of the truth. That Pero had shielded you from his reality from the very beginning.

   Still, there was a silver lining to it all, because the fact that he’d done that meant that his love for you was more powerful than all that. It meant that the light which he’d found in his feelings for you, was strong enough to hold all that darkness at bay.    You chose to focus on that, and only that, since it was likely the only thing that would be strong enough to reach into Will’s heart too.

   And after nearly a month of seemingly fruitless efforts, it finally paid off.    Well… sort of.

   You were sitting in a chair which stood against the furthest wall from where he was chained, the one where the viewing glass was, and you were talking quietly to yourself.    Pero wasn’t there that day, he was taking care of the horses’ hooves, which had enabled you to sneak down there without him knowing.    Something that you did whenever you got the chance.

   Not because there was anything you felt like you needed to hide from him, but just because you suspected that your captive might sooner respond to you if his nemesis wasn’t in the room.    And since your partner refused to leave you alone with him for even a second, this was the only way to cultivate your own relationship with Will.

   “We’re having a girl,” you said quietly, looking down at the little piglet that you were resting on the top of your belly, just because it fit so perfectly there. “Can you imagine Pero with a baby? I kinda struggle to myself, but I know that he’s gonna be good at it. He’s incredibly loving and tender whenever he gets the chance.”

   You casually paused then, giving him the chance to respond if he wanted to.    You kept the topic mainly on Pero, since that was the common ground between you, hoping that he’d eventually feel compelled to either object to something that you said, or just respond out of annoyance.    But he remained silent, so you kept going after a few moments.

   “It’s a bit strange to know that the father of your child is perhaps the deadliest human being on the planet. Especially when I’ve never seen him be evil.    Because that’s the thing that most people assume, isn’t it? That you can’t be a killer and a good person, that they’re mutually exclusive. But even though I’ve seen him at his worst, I still don’t see evil in him, only fear and doubt.    The same things that I see in you.”

   He wasn’t showing any signs of listening to you, so you were about to call it a day before your partner would begin to wonder where you’d gone.

   “You’re a fool…” the man on the floor whispered barely audibly, making your ears prick with interest and surprise.

   “What?” you carefully prompted, hoping that he’d keep going.

   “He will kill you,” he continued after a brief pause. “That’s what we are…”

   “How do you mean?” you prodded, still trying to spur him into carrying on, because no matter what he said, just the fact that he was finally talking was a victory.

   “We are death. Especially to those who care for us.    Mark my words, there will come a moment when you’ll regret ever meeting him, and that will be the moment right before you and your family dies.”

   He said it with a thick layer of acid to his tone, a deep and dark contempt on full display in every syllable, but you saw through the overtly mean façade, straight to the self-hatred that was boiling right beneath the surface.

   “I don’t believe that that’s true, but I can understand why you feel that way,” you said earnestly, knowing that it would provoke him.

   “You understand nothing…” he growled, taking the bait. “You don’t know what he really is… the things that I had to stop him from doing every day while we were in training.    He’s an animal, and he always will be.”

   He was clearly trying to drive a wedge between you and Pero, and you weren’t sure if it was because of his conditioning, continually pushing him to finish his last mission and end your life, one way or another. Or, if it was merely the words of a broken man, trying to make the people around him hurt as much as he did.    But you were sure about the fact that he was dead wrong.

   “If you truly believed that then you never would’ve invited him to meet your family, but I know that you did,” you challenged, not letting him get the upper hand in the dialogue. “I know that you wished for him to come and visit, that you missed him every day and that your family never felt complete without him.”

   He looked at you as though you’d just stabbed him in the kneecap, but he seemed more confused and hurt than angry, and since he didn’t respond, you set about explaining how you knew that.

   “You and I have met before.    I know that you didn’t live here, but you must’ve worked quite close to my neighbourhood because I often saw you at the store on Hillstreet, the one I mostly use for my weekly groceries.    We even spoke a couple of times. You introduced me to Lin Mae and Daisy once, after accidentally bumping into me in the pasta section, and we chatted for a while,” you reminded him, and saw his mind work to try and locate the memory.

   Your few encounters had been brief and no more than what anyone would expect of temporary conversations between strangers, but you were good at reading what people left out of their tales, so you’d known from the start that this man had secrets and demons.    And while you might never have imagined that he’d been an assassin, you’d always been able to see his pain.

   “You never told me anything specific, but I could tell from your behaviour and the gaps in your stories, that something was missing. And when I met Pero and learned about your shared history, I knew right away that he was that missing piece.    I know that you loved him. Despite whatever horrors you went through as boys and young men, he was everything that you had for a long time, and you loved him every bit as much as you loved your wife.    And that’s not a guess, Will. I know that this is true, as surely as I know that I’m alive, so you can stop trying to scare me with your broken mind and conflicted thoughts.    I’m not stupid enough to not be afraid of you, but I’m also not stupid enough to believe the ramblings of someone that doesn’t even know who he is anymore.”

   That made the man before you shrink, even though that seemed to go against his still very weak physique.    He was little more than a shell now, and there was every reason to think that he would never recover, but you still hoped for a miracle.

   “He will always be your brother, William. Despite everything you’ve done to each other, he still loves you.    That’s the only reason why you’re still alive, and while I’m sure that you’d rather not be… I want you to know that there’s a family standing before you right now. Not a big one, but one that’s willing to take you in and care for you, all the same.    Don’t throw it away without giving it a chance.”

   He wouldn’t look at you, and you didn’t need him to. He had heard you, and that was as much as you could ask of him for now.    You got up and picked up the chair to take it with you as you left the room.

   “You’re a fool…” he repeated himself, still quietly but with much more force to the words this time.

   Stopping on the threshold of the cell, you turned back to look at him, and he was meeting your eyes now.

   “���if you think for one second that you will ever be safe around me,” he finished, and you could tell from his expression that he was expecting you to find those words at the very least uncomfortable.

   But you felt only sad.

   “If that’s true, then I pity you,” you replied softly, meeting his hateful glare with nothing but care, which only seemed to further vex him. “No one should go through life so alone.”

   He just kept staring at you, so you left the room and closed the door, feeling positive despite the gloomy atmosphere. Because as bad as the poor man still was, this was progress.    You locked the cell and then left the bunker, starting the slow walk back to the house in your slightly waddling fashion now that the little one was only about a month away.    But as you reached the outdoor fireplace, something made you turn your head to the left, and when you saw what it was, you stopped.

<><><><><><><> 

   Pero heard you long before you came into view among the shrubs, but he didn’t say anything. He knew that you’d notice him, one way or another, and he wasn’t sure of what he could say that wouldn’t sound accusatory or angry.    And sure enough, you looked to the side just as you were about to pass him, and the look in your eyes when you realized that it was him, was all the confirmation that he needed as to what you’d been doing.

   You stopped and turned to face him with slow, measured movements, taking your time to buy yourself a moment to think, which was fine with him, because he really did want to know what the hell you were thinking.

   “I’m sorry…” you started, sounding every bit as apologetic as the words suggested, but it did little to soothe him. “I thought that he might open up to me better if you weren’t there.”

   That did sound like the sort of reasoning that you would have, but even so, it was not good enough to justify putting yourself and your baby in that kind of danger.

   “I know that you don’t agree,” you tried to appease him, “but it worked. He talked to me, honey.”

   As surprising and positive as that was to hear, it still wasn’t a good enough reason. Nothing was.

   “Try this again, and I will change the locks so that you can never go down there again,” he warned, surprising himself with how hard he sounded.

   “Pero… I’m the only one that’s gotten through to him. If we’re gonna have any hope of saving his life then you have to let me build a relationship with him,” you reasoned, and while he knew that you were entirely correct, it made no difference at all.

   He stood up and stepped closer to you, reaching out to take your hand as soon as he was close enough, and then put his other hand on the side of your belly.    Then he looked into your eyes and tried to convey every thought and every feeling that he was having in that moment, but couldn’t articulate for the life of him.

   “I. Don’t. Care.”

   A shiver passed through you at that, as you felt everything that he was cramming into those three little words and realized what he was saying.

   Nothing matters more than you. More than her. More than us.

   Nothing.

   But you weren’t one to be controlled. If he knew one thing about you, it was that he would never be able to expect you to just do as he said, no matter how fervently he insisted. If you had been so inclined, he wouldn’t have had to send you off to a fucking island in the middle of the pacific with no means of getting yourself back.    He loved that side of you as much as he dreaded it, because it made you strong but also unpredictable.

   “He still loves you,” you countered, still unwilling to just leave things be and focus on taking care of yourself for now, and he sighed at your endless defiance.

   “I love you, pintora, and that is a fulltime job these days, so forgive me for not having the energy to care all that much about the man that still wants to kill you.”

   “But that’s my point, Pero,” you persisted, even as he began to drag you back towards the house. “You both still care about each other, and I’m the unifier between you. I’m the one that can reach you both and reunite you.”

   “And my point is that even if that’s true, this is not the time for any reunion. We have our own lives to tend to.”

   “So we just leave him down there by himself while we go off and build a family without him? No… I’m not gonna do that, honey.”

   “Are you not even a little bit worried about what he can do to you? To all of us?” he challenged, truly fearing that you weren’t seeing the reality of your circumstances right then.

   “Of course I am, I’m not stupid. But I’m also not cold or uncaring, and you can stop pretending that you are too, because I know you. Deep down, you miss him more than you’ve ever missed anything.”

   He didn’t have a response to that, because it was damned well true, but it was also not what he wanted to think or talk about for the foreseeable future.

   “Can we just pretend to be a normal couple for a minute and talk about nurseries and baby stuff, not killers and brainwashing?” he pleaded, to which you rolled your eyes but then conceded with a gentle nod.

-=¤=-

   Later that day, you went upstairs to take a bath while Pero helped Dean clear the table and clean dinner away. And much like every time that he and your father had been alone lately, the subject inevitably turned to the unfortunate captive out in the woods.

   “You do realize that you can’t keep him down there indefinitely, right? As safe as it might feel for now, sooner or later you’re gonna have to deal with him,” Dean prompted, making Pero scoff.

   “Oh, your daughter is already on top of that.”

   “Meaning?”

   “Meaning that she spent the hour that I was in the stables with you today, alone down there with him. And if I know her, she was in the cell with him the whole time,” Pero explained, and just saying those words put a sour taste in the back of his throat.

   “Shit…” the older man breathed, obviously equally unhappy with this development. “That’s not good. If she feels like she’s making progress then neither of us are gonna be able to keep her out of there.”

   “I have already warned her that I will change the locks if I must.”

   “Yeah, like that’s gonna stop her…” your father sighed, shaking his head in what seemed like defeat, even though the battle for your safety had only just begun.

   “Dean…” Pero almost whispered now, as real fear constricted his chest. “I’m really scared that she’s gonna make a mistake. That he’s gonna delude her into trusting him and get her to lower her guard.    He was always the best of us at infiltration and manipulation and that’s not a skill that Lang would’ve stripped him of.”

   “No. But you’re not giving Bee enough credit here,” the older man reminded him with a sharp brow. “She’s smart, and tremendously good at reading people, especially when it comes to what they themselves don’t realize that they’re after.    She won’t be fooled, son. Even by someone like William.”

   “I hope you’re right. Because if he lays a finger on her… I will douse him in acid and leave him there to die slowly.”

   “If it comes to that, I’ll help you. But let’s not start digging graves just yet.    I still have the utmost faith in my daughter, and I truly do believe that if anyone can reach William, it’ll be her.    She managed to tame you, after all,” your dad finished with a wink, making the younger man smile despite his worries.

   Dean’s solidness and calm reasoning was soothing to Pero, particularly when it came to his fears and worries about you, so the conversation left him feeling better.    There was something about knowing that those same characteristics existed in you as well, that made him feel like everything would somehow be okay. And he needed that feeling more than usual on that day.

   He stepped up to the older man while opening his arms in a silent request for a hug, which was warmly received, and when Dean’s long, muscular arms wrapped around his back and held him close, Pero felt safer than he had in a very long time.

   “You are the best father anyone could ask for. Thank you,” he mumbled into the man’s shoulder.

   “And I couldn’t have hoped for a better partner for my treasured only daughter, so thank you right back, my beloved boy.”

===============

Link to Part 25

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging, I would dearly appreciate it.

@idreamofboobear @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @sjdraws-00 @shsoba05 @radiowallet @thisshipwillsail316 @myfavpedrothings @cannedsoupsucks @bluegalaxyprime @tintinn16 @winter-fox-queen @shadesofnerdlygrace @tanzthompson @little-mrs-morales @hotchlover @gallowsjoker @cosmicbreathe @criminalmind1927 @harriedandharassed @bilibiche @anditsmywholeheart

#pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar x female reader #pero tovar x fem!reader #pero x reader #modern!pero #modern!au #the great wall modern au #pedro pascal characters #sirowsky stories

[porcelaintoybox23]

I think Gaul and Coriolanus have mental/personality disorders

I couldn’t think of a better title.

*Here is my disclaimer: No, I am not justifying anything these two do. In fact, I’m actually flabbergasted that so many people are into Coryo. (He’s not even hot evil, he’s your whiny teenage boyfriend from freshman year who didn’t understand how to not be a selfish dick. He would listen to Andrew Tate. I am not a licensed psychologist. I am speculating.) Having a personality disorder doesn’t make someone a bad person. Neurodivergence isn’t always quirky.

Coryo:

The point of tbosas was to hammer home that Snow chose to be a horrible human being. His childhood was marred by war and I understand why he fears the districts and why he wants to avoid rocking the boat. In fact, I can’t fault him for being selfish. Most of his motivation is self-serving, but even in his most selfish moments he still wants to support his family. While I will not laud his actions, I can’t fault someone’s desperation to survive. His family comes first.

I found his selfishness refreshing. I can’t remember the last time I saw a YA teenager act like a teenager. He’s selfish, he’s self-centered, he’s arrogant, he wants a comfortable life. He gets mad when things don’t go his way. He’s 17. He gets jealous for stupid reasons. Despite this, and despite his denial to it, Coryo has empathy, he cares about other people.

The problem is, well one of many, is that he cares about himself most. He grew up in the Capitol with a grandmother that regularly filled his head with the glory of the Snow family, with the belief that he was destined for more, that he deserves more than anyone, that he’s inherently better by virtue of his birth. Toss in a traumatic childhood and Capitol propaganda and we get him.

Coryo is just kinda a shtty person. Some people just suck more than others. Lysistrata and Arachne lived similar lives but became different people. So that is our base, now let’s add one last thing.

I think Coryo has NPD or another personality disorder. Maybe not full blown but traits are present. This doesn’t make him a bad person, but I do think it compounds with his natural inclinations and environment to make him worse. He’s insecure and paranoid to the point of another diagnosis. He is way more paranoid than he has reason to be. One would think he was in the arena.

Narcissists have difficulty with selfishness and being unable to extend worry to others. They focus inward to the detriment of themselves. Anytime he feels bad for someone it is overshadowed with the pity he feels for himself. Yeah, Lucy was nearly killed but Coryo’s future is in jeopardy since he touched the gun. Yes, Sejanus’ plan is harebrained but what if this reflects poorly on Coryo?

Part of that is the guilt he feels, because he does feel guilty. It would be hard for anyone to rationalize the death of a friend, and he does cry for Sejanus, but also for himself. Would narcissism exacerbate that? Probably. He can’t be a bad person. He would never be a bad person, so it’s not his fault. Nothing is ever his fault or, if it is, he was forced into it.

We are working with a boy who was raised with illusions of grandeur reinforced every day of his life, the natural inclination to being self-centered that comes with being human and a teen, and a personality disorder.

I liked his relationship with Lucy. It just felt so high school. It felt like your first serious relationship that was always doomed to fail but you didn’t know because you were young. These two have fundamentally different worldviews. There is no situation where they would last. Coryo did care about Lucy. He was able to be considerate and empathetic, though those moments were always tainted by his own selfishness. Lucy was his, how she affected him was paramount. Everything circles back to him, even when he’s being genuinely kind.

Coryo needed an intervention and a good therapist, things he would never get. He got grandma’am and Dr. Gaul. Honestly, Highbottom could have stepped in instead of being a little hater. He and Tigris could've helped.

He has a filter that automatically focuses on himself. I don’t think Coryo was capable of removing this filter, not without help.

He’s still responsible for his own actions. Some of his choices were accidents, he wasn’t trying to kill Sejanus, but he made many knowing the repercussions would be bad. He was given multiple opportunities to choose the right thing or the good thing, but he chose what would benefit him most. He did deviate occasionally when he helped Lucy.

By the end, Coryo is no longer a child and he actively chooses to be evil, vindictive, and cruel. He lies to the Plinths to become their heir, he dismisses Lucy and his paranoia, he kills highbottom, (admittedly, the guy was a dick, I don’t feel that bad) and becomes the Snow we see in the original trilogy. He was no longer an ignorant boy. He saw the brutality of the capitol, he saw the humanity of the districts, he experienced love and friendship, and he chose to become a snake.

Volumina Gaul

I hate this b*tch. I hate people with terrible philosophies that make no sense. I’ve run the gamut of trying to decipher what type of person Gaul is so far. I went from apathetic nerd who likes research vis a vie entrapta to outright sadistic psychopath. Her theories are so stupid and contrived I’m embarrassed to give her any credit as a scientist. Edgy ideas that are easily dismissed with even a passing knowledge of any type of psychology. I think everyone calls her out on this in the book.

At best, the nature of humans, of all life sentient or not, is to survive. Even viruses reproduce despite not being classified as living. The hunger games are not natural. The games are not a natural occurrence. Prey animals tend to be docile. Predators eat what they need and stop. Humanity’s natural inclination is not violence. The violence of the games is manufactured. What is she on? It’s so stupid, my god. When left in a natural environment humans just live. Like anything else they’ll eat and sleep.

I’m not even postulating that cooperation is a natural state. At its core, collaboration helps with survival. When left to their own devices humans started to bake, to speak, to create. Nothing is inherently human. Ma’am, if you just want to kill people, violate the laws of nature, and mutate animals, just say so. I genuinely think she has aspd. I think she is a clinical psychopath. Plenty of people with aspd live regular lives and stable relationships. The disorder makes aspects of life difficult because it’s a disorder.

I thought of a video I watched about Ogata Hyakunosuke from Golden Kamuy. The essayist mentioned how he was incapable of seeing another worldview beyond his own nihilistic one. How he believed everyone thought the same as him and anyone saying otherwise was lying. He was literally incapable of doing the most clinical version of empathy of just seeing things from another perspective. I think Gaul is like this. She genuinely believes that everyone has her worldview and those that claim otherwise are in denial or lying. It’s not a lack of trying, she just can’t visualize something different.

Gaul would still be an evil person without having a disorder. Add aspd onto it and you have a maniac. I don’t think Snow truly believes in what Gaul says, but convinces himself enough to play the part. He has decided to survive.

#word vomit tbh #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow #volumina Gaul #the hunger games #pretty sure I misspelled gaul’s name somewhere #I have gad and ocd #coryo is concerningly paranoid

[babyspacebatclone]

This is in regard to this post, and became a monster so I’m putting it in a new post to save the other thread’s op.

Yes, I will agree with part of this version of your post:

There is no reason Catra should have remained as static as she did throughout canon; other media has provided excellent templates on how it could have been achieved.

But I am going to fiercely argue against the mentality fueling your reasons why.

This rant got long, so there’s going to be a cut.

It’s also stream of consciousness, so please bear with me.

@1023sstuff or anyone else willing to ask for clarifications of points, please do.

I’m not going to hold a single person responsible for Season 5 making air in the state it did, because television is never made in a vacuum by one single individual.

But here’s someone I’d put more blame about SPoP reaching air in the state it did instead of Nate.

(we’re talking single digits of percentage, but it’s still more)

Chuck Austen was co-showrunner on SPoP from season 2 onwards, according to Wikipedia.

He was in his late 50s when he started work on SPoP for season 2, and had two other notable television projects under his belt at that time, including being one of the producers for Season 1 of Steven Universe.

Nate, on the other hand, was not prepared for being a showrunner.

Having read his Memoir “The Fire Never Goes Out” makes that abundantly clear, with the tiny hints he let himself be honest about.

And the lack of honesty was, in my interpretation, entirely fueled by his feelings of guilt and imposter syndrome, feeling obligated to fulfill the giant dreams of catching lightning in a bottle that had been placed on him, from a job offer that I’m sure everyone was telling him he was insane to reject.

I fully expect Dreamworks didn’t want Nate to make the next Steven Universe, by the way.

I think they wanted him to make the next My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic.

Nate was not prepared for that.

Let alone at that time of his own self-healing and understanding.

Remember: this is before he transitioned, and if I was reading the timeline of the memoir correctly he didn’t get his bipolar disorder diagnosis until part way through SPoP.

Nate, by all evidence I have, was not in a position to make a healthy depiction of recovery from abuse.

Because he, himself, was still learning what recovery meant for him.

This is not to say I 100% blindly believe Catra’s “on a silver platter, undergo extreme trauma get redemption for free” arc wasn’t wish fulfillment for Nate.

Because I don’t know him.

But I also wouldn’t be surprised if people who do know him do believe that.

Nevertheless…

That’s the story of one person, swimming in trauma, and that last part I can say with full confidence.

That explains some of Catra’s arc, and a fair bit of the snowball that came afterwards.

But that does not explain Season 5 making it to air.

Someone.

Should.

Have stopped this.

Someone should have supported Nate, helping ease the burden of being showrunner.

I don’t know if no one did, although Chuck Austen coming on board strongly suggests people at Dreamworks did try.

I do not know how much Chuck knew of Nate’s fears regarding the show (which I am extrapolating here, and I could be wrong), let alone how much he did do to help Nate.

I am not blaming Chuck for not helping Nate in a manner I want, because I don’t know what went on and besides Chuck isn’t a therapist and doesn’t deserve to be put in that position.

I strongly, strongly suspect people with money wanted to ride the Catra train for clout, and their dollars won over the dollars of people who didn’t want a huge lesbian romance in a cartoon on their resume.

And I suspect those people, fueled by past successes such as Avatar and Steven Universe and MLP: FiM pushed for Nate to be able to achieve his vision.

And people who knew better should have stopped that.

And it didn’t happen.

And I don’t know who to blame, because I was not there.

I don’t even blame Chuck, I repeat in all honesty, because I can’t see how a guy of his background could have made a difference.

But I’d still place the showrunner with 25+ more years of life experience and any experience in creating television as more (single digits of percentage) responsible for Season 5 making it to air in the state it was than the under 30 year old uncloseted trans man who was mere years into treatment for bipolar disorder.

I want a world where someone other than Nate was responsible for crafting the timeline and events of Catra’s redemption arc.

But I do not fucking blame Nate for us living in this one as though it was his intention all along.

Now, if Nate still thinks Season 5 was acceptable in 2040 as a 50 year old, then I’ll had different opinions.

#television production #executive producers #show runners #cartoon production #trauma #bipolar disorder

[iamafictionfreak]

In a Land of Christmas, and a Time of Fanfiction, There was an Irritated Woman in Dire Need of a Re-Write:

(gifs not mine - they're from @genyakosstyk)

So… I did it! I did exactly what I said I’d do here. I wrote the start of what could become a long-winded piece of diatribe focusing on how much Merlin the tv series could have healed us instead of hurt us.

I can’t tell if I’m overly ambitious, a little desperate (about anything and everything honestly) or just so done with 2023 and the crap-tastic news it generates. That and, I have this on repeat in my mental-space, which is more of a shed than a palace:

(gif from @punqueen13 )

So that's fun.

It’s forgivable to escape horror or fear or fatigue or guilt and grief by diving into fantasy. And is there anything more fantastical than merlin? Merlin and all the promise it brings. Is there any wonder why fics are still being churned out for a series that ended 11 years ago?

So here it is.

Part 1 of one. I’ve written a short, five chapter thing. It isn’t a prologue, it’s an intermission between episode 1 and 2 of season 1. The chapters are short for a reason, but I wanted to give a mix of both Arthur and Merlin povs so do let me know if they’re extremely out of character – I can handle a little ooc, especially given the nature of fanfic but if I can’t hear their voices in my head or see them as I read, I feel like I’ve failed.

I think I did ok?

The premise is simple:

Arthur sees Merlin, a peasant he had a brief altercation with, use magic to save his life. He should tell his father about. He should arrest Merlin.

He doesn’t. His honour being at risk, he allows Merlin to work for him on the proviso that he doesn’t use magic. Ever.

Except Arthur has questions he’s never been given the answers to. And Merlin is – odd. He’s nothing like what Arthur’s been told a sorcerer is and he makes it all too easy for Arthur to drop his guard around him.

Which- well, it must be magic, right?

His father, his attendants and tutors, have taught him about the manipulations of witchcraft and sorcery and how they can twist a man into feeling empathy for the wicked.

The problem is that Merlin isn’t exactly what he’d call wicked. Arthur trusts his own instincts and they’re telling him very different things to what the king decreed. He vows to watch over his new manservant. The moment he commits treason, he’ll run a sword through him.

And in the meantime, maybe – just maybe – he’ll find out for himself if a man who turns to evil, can’t turn back.

I’LL POST EACH CHAPTER WITHIN THE NEXT TWO WEEK SEASONAL PERIOD.

But.

There will then be a wait for part 2 – if anyone truly wants it, that is. And if not, hey. I had fun writing this.

Other bits and bobs and odds and sods:

Will there be romance?

Eventually! But I do wonder with who you mean? And this is first and foremost an experiment about how Merlin and Arthur could have been if what when how and why. If Arthur had Merlin's full trust and if Merlin was allowed past the walls Arthur had erected to keep even Gwen out, what could they have become?

Is it funny?

I HAVE NO IDEA. I truly hope so though, at east a little. There's some seriousness ahead to get through first though, Arthur isn't just going to jump into trust.

Will there be a lot of differences from season 1?

I aiming for exactly that.

How much trouble is Merlin in? More than season 1?

Ahem, have you seen the below man?

Merlin's in ALL the trouble. He just doesn't know yet that trouble is his home-spice.

#merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin fanfic #sleep isn't overrated #i really hope this is worth your time

[argentaur]

Prompt: Aguamenti

“Is this still the same plant? It doesn’t look so fresh,” Sirius gave it a skeptical look, “I’m surprised it’s still alive.”

Remus looked at the sad thing with dried, wilting leaves. It was indeed the same plant he’d possessed a decade before, and it was a wonder that it had survived through rough periods of neglect and absence of him.

Sirius didn’t wait for commentary and swiped Remus’ wand off the table, gave it a wave, an Aguamenti, and with a sputter a thin stream of water curled into the dry soil.

“… you’re going to overwater it,” he eventually said, when Sirius didn’t let off and still added two squirts of water.

“I say, it needs a lot more love.”

Well. Nobody had ever accused Remus of having a green thumb, he’d gotten by alright in Herbology because the plants were magical in nature. The way to kill a magical plant wasn’t as mundane as the wrong amount of watering.

“I spend a lot of time moving around, I’m actually rarely at home,” he murmured his excuse and Sirius gave him a look that made him feel too exposed. He was holding back some words, and, truly, Remus wasn’t keen on hearing them.

It needn’t be said that Sirius, before Azkaban, had been half the reason the greenery in his home had been regularly taken care of, and Remus had a habit of neglect, towards both himself and the space he occupied including everything inside it.

There was a part of him that he was sure Sirius wanted to call out, that felt a little comforted at seeing the sad state of the plant. A form of commiseration, or self-induced guilt that pinged a sorry part of his brain, to give him a reason to get up again and keep moving when yet another morning after the full moon left him suffocated and heartsick.

Why keep going like this? “At least, it hasn’t died yet, has it?”

There was a lot they should finally address, now, forced into the same space. You’ve been avoiding me, Sirius might accuse, and he’d evade, I’m not good at taking care of things.

He’d been elated when Sirius had appeared at his doorsteps, yet another part had wanted to close the door—not to reject him, but he feared what he might read from the state of his home, and he feared what it meant to welcome him back, to be caught up by the truth recently revealed and reality when he’d exclusively lived in a nightmare since that Halloween.

But looking at Sirius now, in about the same state of misery as himself, it made him want to reach out and open his arms to him, it made him want to give and build him up. You cannot pour from an empty cup, the saying went, and Remus had strongly lived by it, sometimes vehemently so, and it had made it easy to justify his reluctance towards everything in life.

But the crux wasn’t the inability to give, was it? It was that the cup should be filled when empty, but he’d neglected that part too.

To him, it’d become easier to stay comfortable with lack rather than deal with sudden opportunity, but in face of Sirius, he wanted to give himself over.

He’d once commented after him drowning aquatic plants and killing succulents, that he shouldn’t get hung up on wrongs, wrong climate, wrong soil, wrong season, a singular failure wouldn’t cement his incapability of ever keeping plants, but that what he really needed was a caring hand and everything else would follow. They were capable of surviving some hardships.

So, here he was, reluctant but willing to extend his hand. They were both starved plants, suddenly saturated in attention. Perhaps, they would die from too much care, or they’d die from the lack of it.

Remus wasn’t good at taking care, but he was worse at letting go. He wasn’t willing not to try.

@wolfstarmicrofic (665 words)

#wolfstar #wolfstar microfic

[stuckinuniformdevelopment]

@albertbutyoucancallmebert

(Previous) Hm… Bert didn’t miss Teddy’s heart-shaped iris. Poor guy musta been really relieved to hear that. When Teddy pulled back from his side hug and went to wash his hands, Bert couldn’t help but linger on it in his mind. The heart phenomenon usually occurred in watchdogs experiencing tremendous amounts of joy and other such positive emotions. And more often than not it arose out of platonic feelings. It could mean anything! He was just so happy to know Bert wasn’t giving him up!... Right? Yes, surely it was nothing more than joy from… the guy risking his life trying to kill Bert’s ex… Who sure seemed awful huggy lately… Right after Bert told him he was dear to him… Bert's thoughts started creeping toward the possibility that— and if he was being honest with himself, there’ve been small signs in the past— Teddy maaaybe might’ve developed a teensy crush on him. Oh, poor Teddy. Bert, of all people? He sighed as his thoughts then creeped toward his own crush (or, lovesick obsession) with Commander Peepers. That added another level of complexity to the matter that made Bert want to break the promise he just made about not ignoring his problems. So he did. He decided he’ll ignore this until the matter arose again. He was pulled out of his thinking trance when Teddy apologized for panicking. Bert set Sherri Jr down and grabbed a clean beaker to scoop some popcorn into, then sat in his own chair. “I’m sorry for yelling.” He bit the kernel part off of a piece and leaned down to offer the puffy part to Sherri, who eagerly accepted it. Bert looked up at the screen. He felt like he couldn’t just go back to merrily watching the cartoon. He swiveled his chair toward Teddy. “But ah. I’m not quite done with the discussion. I have more questions. Like, where are you going from here? You’ve failed at your little summoning thing. You’re still trying to kill Percy though, yes? What’s your plan now?”

Once Bert had sat down Teddy looked over at him and nervously shifted in his seat when he noticed that Bert still seemed upset. It would be more surprising if he wasn't...

...Which is exactly why he sunk down as he was hit with another wave of guilt. If only he had stuck to the plan Bert would have gotten to enjoy a fun evening before being hit with the news... Instead he got the honor of pressing his dumbass, hypocritical friend for information.

So when Bert apologized for yelling Teddy murmured, "It's fine. I deserved worse."

After all, he had gotten off incredibly easy. And all Bert asked for in return was the truth. The full truth.

Teddy briefly smiled at how precious the two of them were, with Bert tenderly giving Sherri Jr. her favorite part of the popcorn. (Or maybe... his least favorite part? It was still a good way to avoid food waste.)

Of course, that smile rapidly faded when Bert confirmed that Teddy had sucked all enjoyment out of even his favorite show. And because of the very reason he avoided telling people about what bothered him in general:

Talking about it inherently required coalescing his fears into words. Which required thinking about it. And this time said fears included: An entirely justified sense of impending doom, losing control when he had prided himself on his independence, and, most of all, dragging Bert down with him.

After a long pause Teddy sighed and sheepishly rubbed his head as he hesitantly said, "I... don't really... well, we don't exactly have a plan anymore? ...At least not a solid one?"

He shrugged while letting out an awkward chuckle. "Unless you count the Ceddy Plan. As in, I fake my death, claim that I was a quadruplet all along, and start a new life on a research station in the middle of nowhere?" He paused to put his hand on his chin. "...Or maybe a sextuplet. Just in case."

Then Teddy groaned as he pressed his hand against his face and dismissively waved the other. "Stupid plan. I know. But I haven't been able to come up with a real plan even after a month of bed rest."

#albertbutyoucancallmebert #long post #The Truth

[heynikkiyousofine]

Nov. 13th, 2022 InuPrompt: Headcanon & Inuyasha Bingo Bonanza: Scars

So, I was actually inspired by @shinidamachu for this one and decided to go along with it. I had so much fun coming up with these one shots for Nov. Inu Prompt Week and can’t wait to do it again next year. feel free to check out my full list on ao3

Kagome smiled as the transformation overtook her husband, his demonic traits fading completely when the last sliver of daylight descended below the horizon. This was the first new moon they would be sending together since being married only two weeks ago and she was excited to say the least.

The first human night after her return, they had spent the entire night talking, Inuyasha finally admitting he was afraid she was going to disappear and that since he was human, he wouldn’t be able to go after her. The second and third human nights, they stayed with Sango and Miroku while they were finishing their own hut before the wedding.

“Why ya smilin’ like that?”

“Can’t I smile at my handsome husband?” Kagome giggled when a bright blush spread across his nose and she gave him a reprieve from her teasing, turning to place another log on the fire. She figured he was feeling a little out of sorts, while yes, they were married and consummated their marriage, they had yet to do more than kissing while he was human.

It wasn’t for lack of trying on her end, Inuyasha simply insisted they wait until after they were married and he wanted their first time while he was a hanyou. She didn’t push him, understanding his reasons completely, but she wanted to explore his body and see how many times she could get him to submit to her.

“I know whatcha thinkin’ wench.” He stated, crossing his arms across his chest as she leaned back on her calves, tilting her head.

“You couldn’t possibly know what I was thinking, Inuyasha.”

“We will get to do whatever it is your plannin’, just give me some time to adjust.” He requested, his voice quieting with embarrassment. Feeling a twinge of guilt, Kagome nodded and smiled in understanding. Seeing something white on his neck, she reached forward, ready to remove when she realized it was a scar.

“Inuyasha?” She leaned to the side, peering closer.

“Oi, ‘Gome, why are you starin’ at my neck?” He moved back, staring at her like she was crazy, his gray eyes searching hers with trepidation.

“When did you get hurt on your neck?” She inched her fingers towards him, her fingertips a gentle touch as she brushed against the half inch iridescent scar.

“It was either from Yura’s hair or Jakotsu’s sword, ya don’t remember?”

“But I thought you healed from all of those? You never have any scars, except for the one when you were sealed to the Goshinboku.”

He took a deep breath and began removing his robe of the fire rat and then his under kosode after, revealing his chest and arms. All over his body were various scars in all shapes and sizes, Kagome staring in pure shock.

“They show up when I’m human.” He grumbled, his fear of being rejected evident in his tone. Shaking her head, Kagome readied herself to reassure him, observe his body and love him, hoping he understood that she loved him in no matter what form he was in.

“Can I touch them?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. He nodded, swallowing a lump that had formed in his throat. She gave him a soft smile, her fingers tracing a particularly long one across his forearm.

“Do you remember how you got them all?”

“For the most part, though I’m sure ya remember most of them too.”

She nodded, flashes of a teenaged hanyou covered in injuries during the shard hunt, her gaze never leaving his body. She knew the large one that splayed across his gut, with one to match on his lower back was from Sesshomaru. The circular dime sized one above his heart was from Kikyo and she had the urge to place a kiss over it.

He had a few more around his neck, similar to the first one she noticed and figured it was from both battles he mentioned. He even had one above his right eye, the memory of the missing black pearl and their adventure to his father’s grave surfacing.

“The one you touched on my arm first was from Tokajin, that bastard’s vines got in too many places to count, but that one took longer to heal for some reason.” He grabbed her hand, placing it on his shoulder, her fingertips pressing against two fang shaped pink scars. “Remember the first night I turned human? That damned spider demon got me good with his venom. I was shocked to see that one the next time I transformed.”

He guided her hand to a long slash across his abs, parts of it overlapping the one Sesshomaru left.

“I don’t need to remind you about my brother’s injuries to me, but the long one is when I transformed and slaughtered the moth demon Gatenmaru and his stupid bandits. Even my demon blood couldn’t stop that one from leaving a mark.”

She continued her search, Inuyasha adding various comments and descriptions here and there, Kagome ending her study for his face, noticing the tiny ones across his cheekbones.

“When Tessaiga got the Adamant Barrage, I took the brunt of all those diamonds to protect you.” He whispered, pressing his nose into her palm. She rose to her knees and gave into her desire to place kisses on each of them, her heart overwhelming with conflicted emotions. She loved that he protected her, but hated that he was injured because of her as well.

Beginning with the one above his heart, she did just what she wanted and ended, brushing her lips against his jaw, continuing to cradle his face.

“Thank you for showing me. I had no idea, but I know you would have just shrugged it off as nothing anyways.”

“I would do it all over again, just for us to be here with each other.” He placed a brief kiss on her lips, full of love. She quickly crawled into his lap, wrapping her arms around his waist, his arms curling around her. They sat there silently for a little while, enjoying the feeling and warmth of the other.

Sleep overtook her and when she awoke the next morning, her hanyou was back to normal. Checking to see if they had all disappeared, she vowed to cherish each of his battles, his scars, his love, every human night they shared for the rest of her life. And if she never got the chance to make him submit, she would be completely okay with that.

tag list:

@blairex​ ; @mamabearcat​ ; @enchantedink-ag​ ; @splendentgoddess​ ; @mandirox89​ ; @sailorlolo​ ; @mustardyellowsunshine​ ; @hny-moroha​ ; @knittingknots​ ; @yukinon-writes​ ; @clearwillow​ ; @keichanz​ ; @serial-doubters-club​ ; @malditamigs​ ; @zelink-inukag​ ; @shinidamachu​ ; @bonny2323​ ; @banksdelivers​ ; @that-one-nerdy-gal​ ; @sarahk21​ ; @dchelyst​ ; @anisaanisa​ ; @lavendertwilight89​ ; @otaku-108​ ; @sailorbabydoll92​ ; @inukagbot​ ; @queerkagome​ ; @bluehawaiicat​ ; @chit-a-to​ ; @liz8080​ ; @lightmidnight​ ; @shikonstar​ ; @soliska​ ; @sometimes-icanstillhear-sitboy​ ; @inu-mothership​ ; @feudalconnection​

#novinuprompt22 #November inuprompts 2022 #headcanon #inuyasha #kagome #inukag #fluff #scars #human inuyasha #inupocklyse #sometimes I can still hear sit boy #Inuyasha Bingo Bonanza 2022 #inubingobonanza #bingo bonanza

[precambrian-sea-pancake]

Happy Birthday RE7! 🎉

I’m not lying when I say this game and this franchise really do mean a lot to me.

I think it was around early or mid 2019 when I discovered the franchise (I live under a rock, okay?)

I was going through probably the worst time of my life. I had a lot of issues going on with me, but irl and online. That is stuff I won’t get into because trauma is a bitch. But it is one of the reasons why it took me so long to come back to tumblr.

I remember one day I was feeling terrible and I wanted to distract myself with some youtube. Eventually I stumbled upon an RE7 Let’s Play, and it caught my interest. I liked horror stuff, and I thought the aesthetic was cool. So I watched it.

I loved everything about it. The story, the characters, the environment, the gameplay looked fun. Pretty much what I’ve been wanting in a game for awhile.

The two leads especially, they really resonated with me. With everything I was going through I felt less alone, I guess? Both of them were going through hell but didn’t give up, they made it out and managed to get a new start. Obviously not exactly the same situation, but in a metaphorical sense it really spoke to me. One of them was going through something he didn’t understand and was completely out of their element. The other one did bad things and suffered greatly for it, and was full of guilt. They did everything they could to help fix it, and redeem themselves. That one especially…I’ve done things and I have a lot of guilt problems. I was in both of these situations, and seeing these two overcome it and make it out of there, will still loyal to each other, made me feel just a little bit better. They really did help me get through that part of my life and still do now.

Cause when RE8 came out I wasn’t doing too well either. I was dealing with moving away from all my friends (I practically require human connection to function. So it was awful) and this was right after graduation so my college plans changed completely and I’m still struggling to get my academic life together. Since I was little I had nightmares about the idea of moving, so finding out one of my worst fears was coming true…not fun :(

And well, that was sort of happening in the new game. With Ethan and Mia moving and facing issues with life after what happened. Change was hard for them just like it was for me. Then Seeing all of Ethan’s fears and paranoia come true? In the DLC, seeing Rose get support after all the bullying she faced? Yeah…I felt that. I also liked how despite everything, they all still care about each other. Even with whatever issues and trauma they have, love is still there. The idea that after everything I’ve been through and the bad choices I’ve made, I can still be loved. Because I’m not my experiences.

Who knew that this of all things, would be my ultimate comfort game. Sometimes the most random things become sentimental to you.

So happy birthday to re7, the game that’s helped me through a lot, and has stuck with me since! ❤️

#personal #I’m sorry this is sappy af #i’m cringe i know #but it’s also my blog so deal with it

[tarotdeckshuffle]

Where did I go?

I know this is a comatose blog, but I feel like I owe my followers, especially some of my most loyal ones, an explanation of what happened.

It’s been what...3 years since I was truly active? Gosh that’s been a long time. Here’s an explanation of why I left, what’s happened since, and the future.

Why I Left

It sounds cliché, but life got ahead of me, mostly my work swallowed me whole. Why is that? 

Well, your Taro is a lawyer. I’m not your lawyer and I will not give you legal advice.

I started writing after I got my degree and started clerking. I was writing on slow days as a way to keep my writing sharp for the judge. After my state cut that position and buying our first house fell through, I moved on to working on immigration law.

But that boss was a prick. 

That’s when an amazing man contacted me through my old boss and said that he had an opportunity for me to help make the world a better place. 

Since then, I’ve been a public defender.

I love my job, I love my clients, but...it’s a tough job for various reasons I’m sure you can imagine. Needless to say, I typically become brain dead when I get home. This job has left me little left to explore my creative side and even less of me left to take care of myself. 

But I’m trying to work on that. 

I’m not leaving my work, just trying to do better. 

What’s Happened?

I’m still happily married to my soul mate :). We moved back by my parents and they’re so happy to have us.

We built our own house at the beginning of COVID. We started construction just before the lockdown and managed to cash in on low interest but had down payments paid just before prices increased. I’m thankful everyday we have our own home knowing full well if we had been even a month later, none of this would have been possible. 

I lost the last of my grandparents. This hurt so bad and left me in a very dark place for a long time. I had to wrestle with my love for them but also my fear. They were toxic, wicked people that I knew would turn on me at some point, even if they never got the chance to. 

After that, I sought professional help and we got another dog. She’s a 6 year old husky and I think she’s smarter than me lol. 

Thanks to that professional help, I was diagnosed with ADHD. Yes, I hyper fixated on writing all those years ago so no big surprise there. I also got hormonal help and, for the first time in my life, I feel real RAGE. Not frustration, but rage. I never truly felt anger before. It’s sometimes tough to control but it’s nice. As they say, the anger you feel at being treated poorly is that part of you who still loves yourself standing up for what’s right.

I think I’ve dramatically matured over the past few years. I’ve become more aggressive in defending others and myself, but I also try my best to stay kind and forgiving. It’s really not been a road I’ve traveled but a roller coaster I chose to get on but can’t control. 

I thought about this blog and all of my followers and friends all the time. I had so much guilt built up over not posting but fearing the expectation of having to resume posting if I came back. I just didn’t know if I could do it all. 

The Future

That is why I say this to you with every ounce of love in my heart: Screw any expectations you may have of me, lol. I don’t expect you have expectations, but I’m telling myself that even if you do, I don’t have to follow them. I’m aggressively giving myself permission.

I do have some stories in my drafts and in my head that I want to put out to the world. Someday, once all of my debts are paid and I can live comfortably, I want to get back to writing full time. My dream is to put my own book out there for the world. 

For now, I think I’m going to put stories out into the world as I’m able. I don’t know how often it will be, perhaps once a year? Perhaps once a week? I also don’t know what the subject or fandom will be. This time, I’m discovering the path as I go with no destination in mind. 

I am here, I look at all of my notifications, and I miss all of you. I hope you find pleasure in my writing.

In closing, I love you all and hope you can find peace in all I can give you. 

#writing #hiatus #Taro writes