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#and if anyone thinks that changes can be made so it's less triggering please let me know
tojjist · 3 months
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“At Least” S. Gojo
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☆ genre: angst to fluff (kinda)
☆ pairings: Gojo Satoru x f! reader
☆ summary: After Geto left, nothing has been the same. Especially not your relationship with Gojo Satoru. Once you decide to move to Kyoto for good, Gojo is less than pleased. But fate does not seem to want to let you go.
☆ cw: mentions of sex, depressed gojo, not spoiler free, hopping between timelines but like i added non-canon events, smoking, drinking, getting drunk, high school Gojo being a high school boy, cussing, mentions of drunk sex but it doesn’t happen, mentions character death (from the anime), gojo satoru (yes that's a trigger warning).
☆ wc : 5.6k
☆ a/n: this has been in the doing for so long? I've been waiting to have the chance to upload it for maybe a year now smh. Also was originally written for an irl of mine lmao
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“Oh my god,” you emphasize each word, pushing the wooden chair away with your knee. “Satoru, is it yours?”
His black pupils, lined with iris the color of morning skies, study your figure from behind the shaded glasses, pink lips quirking slightly upwards in approval of your attention.
“Nah, it's only staying with me for a week,” he stated, watching nervously as you strode over to him. “His owner is away for some business.”
Your attention remained fixed on the pet in Satoru's long, long arms. Your face lit up when a bark escaped the infant animal. “Can I hold it?”
Satoru watched over you carefully, pleading eyes coming in line with his blues. You make it hard to say anything other than an immediate yes, but he tries to stretch out the conversation to his best ability.
“It's 400 yen for 10 minutes,” he muttered, sarcasm dripping from his words. He earned a look of amusement from you; a small victory. He then braced himself for the next part. Satoru bent down, meeting you eye-to-eye, and noticed your breath catching in anticipation. “Or... you can shorten your skirt.”
Your face took no time to grow hot, not giving any verbal answer besides the blank expression you stare at him with. For a second, Gojo let himself think he's the victor of this little challenge he started in his head. But he soon came to realize how grave of a mistake he's made.
You're not flustered, you're angry.
“You're such a fucking pervert,” you fume, eyes glaring daggers. He dares not move, noticing the way your eyes flutter over his face.
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“You're truly unbelievable,” the shorter male chuckled, making sure he didn't bump into Satoru's now-bruised arm. “What were you even thinking?”
“I thought it was funny, y'know?” He huffed in response. Gojo's fingers ran through his own bright locks as he took a seat on the wood hung up by metal chains. "Besides, has she always been this strong? Physically, I mean."
Geto stared into the reddish sky of dusk, placing himself into a swing in turn and kicking the air so the swing would start moving. "I don't know. Girls are really full of surprises.”
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He never thought, not in a million years, things would come to this. Ever since Gojo's last encounter with Geto after he, well, changed... Gojo became unable to face anyone quite the same way he did before.
How did he get here? How did things escalate to this? Thinking about it, Geto had shown signs of a change in his heart and mind. It was Satoru's fault, was it not? He should have done better. He should have noticed. How could he not have? wasn't he the strongest? Wasn't that his job? How could he be so bad at everything?
How could he fail everyone like this?
“Gojo-San?”
Your feminine voice cut his train of thought. He almost forgot the situation he is now stuck in. He's been doing that a lot: losing himself in thought, mind almost immune to the outer world until he temporarily lost his sense of self. Nothing felt quite the same any more. It was like the world had lost its color.
“Sorry- What's up?” He turned to you. Gojo-san, you called him. When did you stop using his given name? What's with the '-san'? Gojo hadn't realized that losing one person was the first step, and now he found himself deep in the road of losing everyone.
And now he's stuck in the elevator with the girl he had liked for so long. He couldn't find it in himself to say anything to you, to push your buttons like he always did or joke around. When did the world become so heavy? He does not know.
“Are you okay? You seemed off.”
Your face is devoid of any genuine emotion, seemingly expressionless. But your voice is laced with concern. Gojo could only guess you didn't want him thinking you pity him or anything of such. But if that isn't the case, he wouldn't know. He's too tired to bother thinking about it.
“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine,” he smiled in assurance, “Just bothered by, well, this-” he threw his hand in the way of the control panel. The elevator doors have been stuck for almost twenty minutes now. How pleasant.
“uh huh,” you sigh, turning back around. How did you turn so cold?
When the silence stretches, you start a conversation, hesitant at first. “By the way, I got accepted as a helper in a nursery in Kyoto,” you mutter, gaze avoiding his own. “they're expecting me to start work right after spring break.”
Spring break?
Holy shit. It hit him like a truck. That’s barely a week and a half from now.
“Spring break? Why so soon?”
“That’s when the students file back in,” you mumble, fiddling with the watch placed around your wrist. You pause to read the time, then turn to meet his eyes. “I’m leaving in four days to get settled.”
“Oh…” His breath caught, “Train?”
What a stupid question. He knows. Satoru has never been unintelligent, especially in conversing. But now his unintelligence shines through as if it’s his only trait. He’s glad you don’t question it.
“Yeah, I have no other form of transport really.”
“Well, uh…” He hates himself. He hates himself for not doing anything. He hates himself for being so weak and  cowardly, for being unable to keep his friends around him, for shutting everyone he holds close out. But now, he especially hates himself for being unable to feel happy for you, or to congratulate you on the opportunity, “come visit us every once in a while, yeah?”
Your mouth remains shut, only staring at the tall man before your eyes. The silence stretches between the two of you once again, and you don’t find it in you to speak of how you feel.
“You.. you know you could have died, right? We all could have b-but you…” You trail off, thoughts splattered like a spilled pot of ink. Although you seemed unfazed, in your mind you were anything but. Haibara, Riko, and all the losses that trailed and every event that followed has been stressful and nerve-wrecking. And even in the quietness and silence of the general atmosphere, it has been nearly impossible to find peace within yourself.
“Well, I didn’t. What happened had passed. Can you change that? I doubt so. No point in ‘if’ and ‘could’ve’.”
Before you could respond,the lights flickered back on. You grow unsure if you’ve struck a nerve, but that wasn’t what you meant. Gojo’s response had nothing to do with what you said, you were sure he knew exactly what your words were meant for. Why is he so scared of confronting it?
You don’t know. You could never hope to know because you and Gojo Satoru live in different worlds, the man who was only Satoru some time ago. You were worlds apart, yet  Satoru loved to play pretend that he lived in the same world as you, even when he stuck out like a sore thumb. But he was no longer. Ever since Geto left… it’s safe to say everyone has been changing slowly, deforming from their previous lives and personalities. But Satoru flipped, like the head and tail of a coin, he got himself a new face. He turned into Gojo Satoru; the strongest. A soul unalive. A broken boy in an ever growing body. A stranger.
Two days later you find yourself still roaming the campus , searching so desperately for something. Anything. A reason to stay, perhaps? You don’t find it anyway. You have no attachment as this place holds nothing but misery. Or that’s what you told yourself over and over as you packed your things.
Your steps were graceful, walking so cautiously as if careful to not wake someone up. Your fingers find rest on the old, dusty door frame, pushing yourself into the room that hadn’t been used for a good month or so. The classroom looked the same as it always did. Except for the shadow that loomed over it; a gray shade that sent chills down your spine. Or maybe it’s just your imagination. 
Then you spot something rather out of place. You’re sure you’ve never seen it before and although you know it’s none of your business, the way it tugs at the strings of your curiosity is undeniable.
It’s red, poking out of what you’re sure is Gojo’s desk. The gloomy classroom was no fit for paper with a color so vibrant. 
Your heart skips a beat when you glimpse the seat next to Satoru’s. You do your best to avoid looking at Geto’s desk any further. You busy yourself with the task at hand, reaching out for the mysterious paper hidden in the wooden desk. Shivers run up your arm at the texture of the scrunched paper.
You attempt to straighten it to your best ability, strained by his hard work of crumbling it with obvious frustration. you can barely make out the letters of your name in the middle of the paper, outlined by a messy circle. How Gojo of him. A few lines stick out of the ‘circle’, one of them has the name of a steakhouse somewhere in Tokyo. Another has a date, reading somewhere along February. It’s near impossible to make out what the small combination of letters say, especially when Satoru’s handwriting is closer to symbols than a comprehensible language.
The thought of it was so funny it didn’t feel like him at all. Satoru never planned anything. Every breath he took was based on pure impulse. Never would it have occurred to you that he thinks through things, let alone brainstorm.
The thought makes you smile. But the realization that he never asked you out because he changed his mind or everything that happened getting in his way makes your stomach churn unpleasantly. 
You decide it’s probably for the best to never bring it up. It would only make matters worse for both of you. Life ran its course; who are you to try and change it?
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“I apologize, but my answer remains. I refuse to take part in this,” you spoke in an even tone. “I have a job and a life away from jujutsu. I’ve made it clear sorcery is not a part of my life anymore.”
"That’s completely understandable,” the old man argued, his voice hoarse with age. You’re pretty sure you hear anger further straining his voice, “but your technique is quite strong. That strength could be of great assistance if put to use.”
“Thank you, sir,” you dip your head, maintaining eye contact with the decaying man. “But I truly apologize. The decision is final.”
“If you ever do change your mind, please let us know. We’d be more than happy to hear it.”
You almost let a sigh of relief escape. Finally he gave up. You end up only nodding your head in response gratefully, retreating from the old man. As soon as you're safe and out of sight, you let your posture drop, eyes rolling back in annoyance. These guys are truly as relentless as ever.
You stopped upon a familiar scent catching in your nostrils. Lifting your head up, your eyes roam around, scanning the room for your friend.
“You look troubled,” Shoko approaches you, taking the cigarette out from between her teeth. “What’s with the face?”
“How is that man even alive,” you look at her, “he’s ancient.”
Your comment earns a light chuckle from the brunette. “I’m glad I never have to get caught up in this bullshit.”
“Blissed aren’t you,” you roll your eyes as you speak. “I shouldn’t have come in the first place, I knew they were going to do this.”
“It’s alright, you’re all done now. Here-” Your friend then lifts the cigarette up, putting it near your mouth. When you don’t show any resistance she, being the bad influence she has always been, proceeds to place it between your lips. You waste no time, making quick work of the drag you inhale, bringing the familiar cloud of toxic chemicals and tobacco into your lungs. Your expression relaxes, shifting into one of relief. Shoko scoffs playfully, muttering that you’re dramatic under her breath before she pulls her cigarette from you, taking in a drag.
“Satoru’s here, by the way,” Shoko didn’t need to look at you to guess the way your eyes snap towards her. She bites back a smile. “He’s calmed down. He’d even seem the same as long as you don’t squint too hard.”
“Good for him,” you mutter, trying to seem as unbothered and nonchalant as your accelerating heart rate would allow. You avoid looking at Shoko, trying to seem disinterested. You know she’d pretend you weren’t gawking at her the second she said his name.
“He’s trying, you know. He’s just as nervous as you are.”
“‘M not nervous,” you scoff, “For god’s sake. It’s been ten years already.”
Satoru is stressed. He's nervous, as Shoko put it. He’d spent so long trying to ignore the past, pretend the past wasn’t at all. He couldn’t confront it. He didn’t want to. Satoru knows what he’s done, he's aware that he hurt you the last time you two had interacted. And that was ten years ago. He even let you leave without so much as a goodbye. How could he look you in the eye and pretend nothing has ever happened?
Gojo didn’t want to face the consequences of what he’s done. More so what he hasn’t. So many things were left unsaid in the elevator that day. They’ve been hanging over Satoru ever since, weighing his heart down and wearing it out.
What if he’s met by another woman? Ten years change a lot as is. What if the eyes that meet his aren’t yours? What if he finds himself talking to a stranger that carries around your name and features? Of all the horrors Gojo Satoru had faced in his life, nothing caused dread to pool in the pit of his stomach like this thought does.
Shoko seems to find something beyond you interesting. You don’t bother to turn to see as the brunette has always been a little in her own head. She’s probably just dozed off.
“Hey, think you can hold this for me?” Shoko muttered once Gojo crossed her sight. She stands facing you, averting his gaze. “I’ll be right back, nature’s calling.”
From his distance, Gojo couldn’t make out what the two of you were saying. He watched as your shoulders shook, presumably in laughter. Shoko then made her away from you, barely sparing Satoru a glance.
Every step he took felt heavy, weights landing on his shoulders as he moved towards you. He watched smoke emerge from over your head. He didn’t know you smoked. And even though he’s not completely sure what you do for a living now, he’s not expecting any nursery to accept a smoker in their team.
His long strides finally arrived, opting to remain a step behind you. Close enough to make his presence known.
The aura was unmistakable, almost as if it could be physically sensed. You freeze in place, the cigarette remaining a few inches from your lips. Even after he changed his perfume to one a lot more manly and appealing, and clearly grew taller judging by the shadow he cast over you, his presence still had the same strength as it did before. If not stronger. Anyone else would say it’s intimidating. But you find surprising comfort in it.
“That’s going to kill you,” his hand  reached from over your head, making sure to not cause any unnecessary physical contact. His fingers slip the burning cigarette  from your grip. You find yourself unable to make a single move in response, only watching his actions unfold.
He took a step, moving closer, dimming the light from the roll by rubbing it against the metal bars, then throwing it off the balcony. “You’re too young to kill yourself like that.”
“That bitch Shoko set me up,” You hiss, regaining your composure. “Will you look who showed up. You’re killing the ecosystem by throwing waste like this, Gojo.”
Although you haven’t glanced his way yet, You were every bit sure his mouth was quirked in the same smug smirk he wore so much when you were younger. You could even hear it in his voice as he spoke, “You haven’t grown at all, have you?”
“Oh shut it,” you chuckle. “You’re still as immature as ever. How you could be a manchild at 27 is a wonder to me.”
27… It felt so weird to say it out loud. Weren’t you just 17 a few days ago?
“Oh, how you hurt me,” he says in exaggeration, his voice conveying anything but the hurt he claims to feel. “That isn’t very nice of you.”
“That’s rich coming from you,” You say. He laughs a little, you do too. But the silence that follows is not that of a joke. He knew what you’re referring to. Maybe he underestimated your last encounter’s effect on you.
The silence speaks for itself. It’s louder than any conversation you’ve had before. What now? What have we become? Is it of any use to try anymore? Neither of you had an answer to the question that began to surface with this interaction.
The questions remain hung in the air, dimming the atmosphere around you. Was this fate’s doing? Or his karma? Gojo has always been told he’s a god, but how could he be a higher form of life when he struggled so much to hold a conversation?
He’s about to speak again when you cut him off, muttering “here-” as you push your hand down the coat you wore. Your tongue pokes at the inside of your cheek as you search for the anonymous object.
You pull out a worn out paper, grown from what could have been a bright red to an orangish shade. His eyes study as you shove the paper in his  direction, eyes avoiding his gaze at all costs.
Seeing your bashful expression made him rather curious, the contents of the wrinkled paper piquing his interest. He hesitates before he pulls the paper from your hand, half-expecting you to bite him.
The letters were scribbles, almost like they’re straight out of some cult’s ritual,  that with the wrinkles of the worn out paper making reading it next to impossible. Still, he could make out just enough to realize what this paper is. His eyes widened behind the blindfold. It didn’t take much to remember this paper, trivial as it may be.
“You found this- how did you even…?” he trails off, confused.
“I guess I did,” You confirm. He’s unsure if you’re proud of yourself for your rather… interesting discovery. It’s bold of you to pull this out ten whole years later. But he can’t deny the relief he feels that at least this means you don’t completely hate him. For once, he’s truly at loss for words. 
But he wouldn’t let a perfect opportunity like this slide.
“Oh, so you’re in love with me? You’re so obsessed with me that you kept this for so many years, what a loyal fangirl.”
Before he knew it, a weight so crushing landed on his foot. He turned off his infinity around you as a sign of trust. But he soon came to regret his rather unsmart decision. Your foot stomped and crushed his toes. It makes him groan in pain, bending slightly forward.
“Tomorrow, at Narisawa in Minato city, 5:30. I’m leaving for Kyoto in 3 days. Don’t waste your chance again, Gojo Satoru. You’re not getting another one.”
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“I take it you’ve been in love with me ever since?” He leans forward, elbows on the table. “Say, did you fascinate about me?”
“Hmm..” you hum softly at his childish question, “only a little.” You show no signs of interest in his tactics as you sipped the wine in your hand. Undeniably, Gojo is taken aback by your lack of reaction. He hasn’t known you to be so reserved and smart at keeping him on edge. He couldn’t help finding your new behavior enticing.
Is there anything else you’d like to have?” You nodded your head towards the plates sitting on the table, some empty and some half-full. “Or do you wanna do something else before I go back to the hotel?”
“Hmm? Maybe I could join you at the hotel, actually. Surely it’ll be a lot less lonely with me around?”
You’re tempted by his offer, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach. He looked strikingly handsome today. Maybe you were just really lonely and touch starved, or maybe it’s the way his lips quirk as he teases you that makes your brain a little hazy, inappropriate thoughts floating through it and send jolts to your core. Yet, you set your mind on refusing his advances. You haven’t had a decent conversation since high school, for god's sake.
He keeps his eyes set on you, shining before him. You looked glamorous. He’d lie if he said there wasn’t a certain allure to  your matured looks. The years that flew by changed a lot of things about you two, but his breath still catches in his throat when your eyes meet his dreamy blues. The feelings rush back, memories clouding his train of thought. 
He’s sure he’s going to pay. He didn’t mind it at all, what a small price for getting to spend an evening with you. But you surprise him when you bring up that you had already put your card down, courtesy of having been the one to ask him out. Or maybe this was your way of telling him that you are in pretty good condition, living perfectly well without needing sorcery.
“How’s working as a jujutsu teacher?” you quip, smiling softly. “Utahime says you’ve got some interesting kids in your pack? Two special grades, too. You’re sure a favorite attraction for wonders.”
“You’re still in contact with her too?” he dodges talking about his students, not meeting your gaze. “That’s ironic. Weren’t we friends too?”
A hoarse chuckle emerges from him. But nothing about it leads back to amusement, as it was a joyless sound devoid of life. Almost as if he were mocking you. The dark lenses of the shades sitting on the bridge of his nose served as a shield. He curses himself for being so weak. He's almost thirty but somehow you’ve got him acting like he did when he was 17. 
“You didn’t try to contact me either,” you shrug, not willing to take the blame for your lack of contact. 
“You could have visited then. Even Yaga talked about you every once in a while,” he isn’t too happy and it’s showing.
“All good things, I hope-“
“Don’t change the subject,” he frowns, an uneasy edge outlining his words. “He was enough. You didn’t have to go ahead and leave too.”
“I had to move on, Gojo,” the name felt like a jab every time you used it. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. This is how you drew your boundaries. Calling them by their last names gives you a false sense of satisfaction, convincing yourself that your sorcerer friends are past figures now. Mere acquaintances. 
“-I couldn’t remain hung there forever, I valued my mental health. You grew distant, the atmosphere was growing uneasy every day. I had to cut ties with Jujutsu before I couldn’t recognize myself anymore.”
“Yet you’re here now. Back to square one,” his playful tone was long gone, now replaced by an even, stern one. “Whether you moved away or called us by our last names. It’s a curse you can’t escape. you’ll always end up back in the palms or jujutsu.”
His words held some truth. You know that. But just as he refused to confront this past, you repulsed the idea of your reality. You truly want to believe that you could escape this part of yourself and live a normal life. You couldn’t come to terms with your inability. You held onto your hopes as if your sanity completely depended on it. Another thing that won’t change no matter how much you grew.
“I'll be okay as long as I refuse to interact with this world.”
Once you leave the restaurant, you find yourself wandering through the rich streets of Minato city. It felt as though the night was pulling you further into its welcoming embrace, with nothing rushing you.
“He was only thirteen,” you chuckle, arm linked in his. “It’s unbelievable how bold kids nowadays are.”
“I would’ve done the same thing, honestly,” he smirks, his gaze fixed on the stores around.
“Of course. You’ve got the brains of a thirteen year old.”
Satoru grins at your remark, pulling you into a clothes store. 
“What’s this?” you look around in confusion, noting a woman in a suit welcoming you. The place looked a little too fancy, judging by the display of the items and the lighting of the place.
“It’s a western brand,” Satoru answers. Looking over at him, you can’t help but smile a little. He looks good tonight. His fancy outfit gave the impression that he’s a model to strangers. “Louis Vuitton, I think,” He furrows his brows, trying to remember the name of the brand stores he’s been to with Nobara and Shoko.
“Prada, sir,” The lady in a suit corrected him. “Can I help you?”
“We’re just browsing, thank you.” It’s a phrase he heard from Kugisaki countless times whenever they wandered into a store. His response makes you chuckle, watching as the lady takes a few steps backwards politely.
You’re soon comfortable, searching through the expensive coats and bags. Satoru watched tenderly. Even though the ten years that passed with no contact whatsoever definitely propose a wall between you, he's glad you're able to feel free. You might nit on the same page, but you two can work with what you have.
You stride back to the “S” shaped velvet couch sat in the middle of the checker-carpet store, where Satoru sat. But he was nowhere to be seen.
You walk around in hesitance and confusion, completely aware of the lady walking always a few feet behind you. Surveillance, you guess.
You find him standing in front of the white counter, taking a black bag with the brand’s name printed onto it in golden letters from the man standing behind the counter in a white shirt with the brand's logo on it.
“Gojo,” you call him, confusion fused into your expression.
He extends his arm to you, trying to suppress any sourness at you calling him Gojo. “Let’s go?”
You nod, eyeing him suspiciously before you link your arm in his. You make sure to flash a grateful smile at the woman by the door as you walk past the reflective glass door.
You almost forgot how busy the world outside is. It felt as though the glass building of the store was sound proof. Now you have to adjust to the noise of the full streets again.
Satoru remains silent for the most part. It’s not awkward, rather just neither of you knew what to say. He expected you to ask about what he bought, which you have considered. You decide against it though as you feel it’s none of your business. You’re not too surprised anyway as Gojo has always been a wealthy man. He could buy the entire Prada chain with half of his monthly spending.
“What do you wanna do now?” He asks. “Wanna go somewhere else?”
You think about going to the club to give the night the best closure. But neither of you were dressed for it anyway. You contemplate your choices. Then you grin at him, and Satoru knows it’s best to fear what comes after
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You’re well aware that he has a high alcohol tolerance. While you would be wasted a few shots in. Yet you consumed so many drinks recklessly, thinking that maybe you could beat him in a drinking game.
That’s why he’s stuck to your side now, helping your sleeping body out of his car. Satoru is glad your hotel card was so easy to find in your purse, taking it out as he gets into the lobby.
A few people eye the man, glaring at him and at the way he held you in his arms. But he couldn’t bring himself to think too much about it. His mission is to get you to bed now.
“Satoruuu~” You whine, rubbing your face into the pillow once he sat you on the white bedding. “Stay with meeee”
And Satoru is nothing if not human. Despite what everyone else says. It’s proven now that he had come to face a human flaw like this. He is weak, and you are all but practically seducing him.
“Stop crying,” He mutters. He finds himself smiling sheepishly at the unlikely scenario he found himself in. Tucking you in bed, your face hot due to the drinks you had. He really should have stopped you. “I’ll stay the night, so sleep already.”
He convinced himself it’s for the best. He should watch over you for tonight. No funny business. Deep inside he knew he was just finding a reason— any reason to stay around you for a little longer, heart yearning for the lost years. But he ignored the pathetic feeling, convincing himself it’s for your sake instead.
“But I’m uncomfortableee,” you whine again, hands running down your body. “The dress...”
Did you have to make it so hard on him? Satoru is tempted to kiss you, eyebrows knitted in the space between, eyes looking around the room for any sort of aid.
This is probably a form of invading your privacy, but he sees no other choice. He’ll have to hold it together for tonight.
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“nngh..”
Your groan came with an impending headache. Your body moves against the rich covers of the bed, sunlight illuminating your physique.
He stopped in his tracks, feet bare against the gray carpet.
Your form is beautiful, one to compete with statues of goddesses. The rays of light complimented every inch of skin in all the right ways. Satoru had to physically shake his head to stop the flowing perverted thoughts in his head.
Your flinch when you catch him standing near the door, heart beating slightly faster. You thought that you’re alone. You don’t think much of it anyway, muttering a “holy shit” under your breath.
“Good morning,” he casually greets, brushing off the mutual shock, albeit for different reasons. “I made coffee, if you wanted some.”
“Oh... thank you,” you mutter, rubbing your eyes as you sit up straight. “Did you eat anything yet?”
“Not yet, no,”  he says, holding his overly sweet coffee in both palms. “Thought I’d wait until you woke up.”
“You’re a real sweetheart, Satoru,” you yawn. His name slipped past your lips before you could stop it. You busy yourself with stretching your arms. “What a doting housewife God has blessed me with”
His response is only a chuckle, rolling his eyes as he sighs on the edge of the bed. “Well, at least I wasn’t begging a man to spend the night with me”
“Huh?”
You couldn’t remember anything of the prior night. Nothing that occurred after you sat at the bar, specifically. But then you begin to realize, eyes widening at the revelation. You feel dreadfulness landing in the pit of your stomach a little too late. 
He’s shirtless, wearing only his suit pants. And even though you wouldn’t mind the sight any other day, the fact that you are in your pajamas isn’t helping at all.
“Did we...” You trail off, expression darkening. Your eyes meet his own, fear implanted in your pupils. You watch as his expression drifts from confusion to an awkward hesitance. Unsure how to break the news to you.
You don’t know what to expect, not realizing you’re holding your breath. 
“I-I’m sorry,” He sighs, gaze faltering as his eyes look away from you. Your eyes widen further, oxygen becoming hard to consume.
What have you done?
“But- don’t worry. You know I’m not some asshole...” if anything, he sounded chivalrous. “I-I’ll be accountable for my mistake. When do you want to hold the wedding?”
You gasp, face feeling hot. “You piece of shit-“ You groan as your foot reaches him, forcefully pushing him off the bed. “As if!”
He breaks into a fit of laughter, the sound full of genuine delight. “I can’t believe you fell for it,” He manages between the laughter.
“Fuck you, Satoru,” you mutter, a smile of relief breaking across your face. “I can’t believe you pulled something so childish.”
“Why are you so down?” He climbed back onto the bed, reclaiming his spot on the edge. “Are you disappointed? You know it’s never too late to just as-“
“Fuck off,” Your heart is pounding as you send him another kick, less forceful this time. “Say one more word about it and I’ll make sure you don’t make it out of this room in one piece.”
He laughs, asking you to pass his coffee. You reach for his coffee from the bedside table. Your fingers lift the glass mug to your lips, sipping at the hot beverage before handing it to him.
Your face scrunches up at the horrible taste. Too much sugar. Too much milk. It’s a lot worse than you might think.
“Your coffee should be criminal,” you push the mug his way, frowning. Satoru hums in response. 
There’s no awkwardness between the two of you, and he can’t help but cherish it. He feels content, enough to sit a little closer, at least.
Enough to lean in towards you, mouth closing over yours in an ever awaited kiss, at least.
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ilguna · 10 months
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lmao finnick and number 29 please 🎉 -🪐
☼ exhaustion (Finnick Odair) ☼
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summary; Finnick tells you to stay home after realizing just how tired you are.
warnings; swearing, death mention.
wc; 1.1
prompt: 29. “You're not up to this, you can barely stand!”
If there’s one thing you could go for right now, it would be the best sleep of your life. You think that you’d drain everything you’ve saved up since you won, just so you can sleep for twelve hours straight, and wake up in a warm bed that you don’t want to leave. Preferably, Finnick would be in that same bed, holding onto you.
You can't, though, between the past two and a half days, you’ve only slept for about five hours, total, and that might be an overestimation. You’re not entirely sure, because you’re not keeping track. You don’t have time to.
It’s partially your own fault, you could make a harder effort to get some sleep. You’re afraid of the consequences that will follow. Each time you lay down for thirty minutes, close your eyes, get comfortable—some tragedy inside of the arena happens. It’s not your tributes every time, but that doesn’t matter. 
Whatever they’ve done to the arena this year, they’ve rigged it too well. The mentors can’t sleep, the tributes can’t sleep. You’re not entirely sure how anyone is supposed to go on with a peace of mind, knowing full well that their tributes could die at any moment without notice.
It’s a chain reaction that they’ve set up. One tribute will step into a trap, trigger an animal, make a wrong decision, and everyone else inside of the arena will suffer that exact same pain. 
They’ve started fires that have lit the forest on fire, which caused a stampede of the largest animals, which drove all the food away. That caused the predators left over to turn around and begin hunting tributes instead. Mentors panicked, now there’s too many weapons inside of the arena.
At least one tribute has died every day since the bloodbath, which was five days ago. You think this year they’ve made history, because you’re already down to the final eight, causing another round of interviews by the press. You were hoping that you’d have a few more days before having to appear on screen in front of Panem, praising your tributes for surviving this far.
You’ve seen yourself in the mirror, and it’s horrible. 
This wouldn’t be so hard if you had Finnick with you. And technically you do, he’s here somewhere in the Capitol. Only, he’s been Snow’s errand boy from the second you two stepped onto the train station. You were able to speak to him briefly two days ago between his next client and you coming back to power nap. Apparently, everyone has decided that he’s the hottest victor, yet again, and his schedule is so packed that he barely has time to pee. Much less, come and help you in the betting room.
You’ve tried to feel bad for him, but it takes more effort than you’re willing to give right now. You’re juggling fucking everything, a task that’s hard for even two amazing mentors on a good day. You’ve got your eyes on both tributes, the sponsors, the stylists, the escort, the media, and yourself. You don’t have time for Finnick, which is a first for you.
You close your eyes, letting the warm water rain onto your skin. You can already feel yourself growing drowsy, and even though you tell yourself repeatedly to change the water to cold, you sit there, basking it in. It would be so easy to fall asleep in here and ‘accidentally’ forgetting to go do the public statement.
It’s important for one reason: for the collage video in the chance that they win. They’ll insert the clip of you talking about you on the edge of your seat, rallying sponsors, cheering them on. Depending on the act they’ve decided to put on for the Capitol, your reaction to their survival changes.
You’re not entirely sure how you’re supposed to do this half-asleep, but you’ll figure it out.
A knock sounds at the bathroom door, your eyes open, suddenly awake as you turn to watch the door open. You see Finnick’s reflection in the mirror and relax, sitting against the wall again.
“Hey, I thought you were busy tonight.” You murmur, yawning.
“Last minute cancellation because of the statements being made, Snow let me have the night off.” He closes the door, leaning up against the bathroom counter while watching you. “Are you doing that tonight or do you want me to do it?”
“No, I got it.” You blink, eyelids heavy. You force your eyes open and to focus on Finnick’s face, which is laced with worry, you think. You can’t really tell, neither do you care at this point. “You go and rest.”
“You know that you have to be there in an hour, right?” He asks.
You shoot upright, “Fuck, how long have I been in here for?”
Your hand slams against the button on the wall that shuts the water off. You get to your feet, almost slipping in the process. Finnick jerks forward, prepared to catch you, but you push his hands aside.
“I don’t know, I just got here.” 
You throw a towel on the floor to dry your feet while you towel down your body. When you move to grab your clothes from off the counter, you slip. Finnick grabs under your arms, steadying you.
He eyes your face, eyebrows drawn in, “Are those bags under your eyes?” He reaches to touch the purple bruising, you move your face away.
“Yes, and I’m fine.” You move to pull on your underwear. 
“When’s the last time you slept?” He asks.
You let out a nervous laugh, knowing that you’re about to get a lecture from him if you answer that question. Finnick deadpans, because he’s heard that exact tone before when you’ve admitted to unhealthy behaviors in the past.
“(Y/n).”
“I don’t have time to sleep, babe.” You tell him, “I barely have time to shower, let alone go do an interview that won’t matter. Sleeping for more than an hour at a time is like winning the Games twice.”
“You should stay here, I don’t mind going.”
You give him a look, “That is not happening.”
When you begin to pull on your black slacks, one leg at a time, you throw yourself off-balance, hopping on one foot. Once again, Finnick reaches for you, and catches you before you hit the floor. 
You sigh.
“You’re not up to this, you can barely stand.” He tells you, moving your hair out of your face, “So you’re going to stay here and get some sleep. I’ve got the interview covered.”
“Are you sure?” You ask, shoulders dropping.
“I am, darling.”
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paraliveimaginesblog · 5 months
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Iori with 47 please
Iori Suiseki:
47. A kiss paired with a tight hug, knocking the breath out of the person being hugged.
Iori was never one to wear his heart on his sleeve.
The negative emotions were the hardest for him, even though he felt them often. Anger, betrayal, complete and utter dread, or true burning rage, he hid them behind a charming smile. It led many with a sixth sense to consider him a dishonest person, which was not entirely untrue; the way he operated would certainly have him looking sideways too, if someone he knew was treading the path of revenge. If it came down to it, he had never meant for anyone to be sacrificed but himself, even that just a last resort as he knew the pain it would cause the others. He didn’t want to create a circle of pain which is why he wanted to carry these burdens alone, with some help from Zen who saw through most of his dishonesty.
But this had his eyebrows knit with worry, teeth chewing into his bottom lip until it bled. He hadn’t even realized until Zen whispered something about it, and even then he dabbed at it quickly with his sleeve, his thoughts on no one but you. Alter Trigger had gone too far when they took you, clearly unaware of how a man who once lost a majority of his life would react to something new being snatched away from him. There would be hell to pay for this, he’d make sure of it.
The negotiations with the ‘group’ had led Iori to realizing that it was just a bunch of loser thugs, with nothing better to do with their time who wanted some extra coin from the Suiseki clan. Their masks were shoddily made and he could recognize some of their features, people who he had ‘dealt’ with on a regular basic to keep the streets cleaned. He had hoped to scare them straight quite a few times but it seemed the lessons never took, which made him feel much less guilty for the lesson he and Zen were about to teach them.
And they had brought you with them to this meeting, hands bound in front of you as you shifted back and forth nervously on your feet. He knew irritation had been written all over his face when they had tugged at you, nearly causing you to fall from how hard and careless they pulled at you. If he could’ve killed them with no consequences he thinks he would’ve, but the chances of getting away with something like that… He didn’t let himself consider it a second longer as despite being assholes, there were no visible physical injuries that would have him considering their deaths as equal compensation.
You’re scared, and that’s enough for Iori to not feel sorry for what comes next.
It’s over in a flash, not one to work with the police but finding that staying on the right side of the law was the only way to go about this situation. He would not endanger his family, and it was the swiftest way to assure you’d come back home to them. He regrets that you have to speak with the cops so exhaustively since you have to give your statement before you’re released, but he patiently awaits the moment you can finally come back to him.
You’re just as relieved as he is when you’re given permission to go; Iori moved to greet you, raising a hand in a casual greeting that you seemed to ignore. He’s worried when you don’t respond but finds those fears were unfounded as you throw your arms wide when you’re finally in front of him, nearly tackling him in a tight hug as you crushed your lips against his.
You’ve never kissed before, the relationship between you always unspoken, exchanging fond glances and fleeting touches that left you feeling warm from head to toe. But today was different — you had convinced yourself that you could’ve died. You could’ve never seen Iori again! You didn’t want to die with regrets like that, over something so easily achieved, knowing that if you kissed Iori, he would kiss back. He’d always be afraid to make the first move — his world had been shattered once, he couldn’t stand to see it change again, even if this change was for the better. So, you made the move, holding his face in your hand, feeling the way his hands felt from your waist to your hips and gripped you tight.
“…I might not ever let ya go again. You ready to deal with the consequences?”
“Definitely.”
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h0n3yk1tt3n · 1 year
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Chloe doesn't need to be the fandom punching bag
And before anyone tries to say I'm defending her actions in Do You Wanna Hang:
1. No I'm fucking not
2. Like all the characters in the show, she's much more nuanced than the 2017 one-dimensional fanonization a lot of older fans still have lingering on their tongues
Since it's the elephant in the room, let's discuss DYWH a little more in depth. (By all means if the subject matter is triggering to you, skim or skip as much as you need to.)
Are Chloe's actions completely out of line? Yes, I'm not denying that. Chloe does in fact kiss Jeremy unprompted, even after he expresses that he "has to go."
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But might I remind you that the squip is Literally Preventing Jeremy From Moving And Forcing Him To Stay Just A Few Lines Before This.
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Should Chloe have kissed Jeremy when he expressed that he wants to leave? No, and we don't know how stubborn she would've been even if she was sober. (Not that the alcohol is an excuse, obviously.)
On the topic of alcohol:
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Despite what many animatics would have you believe, the squip is the one that makes Jeremy drink, THEN makes him kiss Chloe. Chloe didn't do that. All she did was hand him the bottle.
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The squip made him drink it. The squip is keeping him here. The squip holds all the cards.
"But Chloe continues to harass him!" I hear you say. Well, let's look at the next few lines, shall we?
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Hear me out on this: Before Jake shows up, Chloe's ready to give up. Katlyn's delivery (in two river, I cant speak for off-bway and on) is dejected and tired. Jeremy's giving really mixed signals, she never even liked him in the first place (see "you're less cute when you're talking" from before the Japanese section), she only ever wanted to make Jake (and probably Brooke) jealous, plus she's REALLY drunk and probably starting to feel sick from it. She's "had enough."
Jake finally shows up though, and NOW "the fun begins." Cue the fake sex noises and emphasizing that they're on Jake's parents' bed.
Plus, isn't it weird that only AFTER Jake can see her that she goes on top of Jeremy? She's not touching him while she's being loud and obnoxious, not as it's written in the script. (Granted it doesn't say when Jeremy's shirt came off, but only now does she try to make things LOOK incriminating now that Jake's here.)
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She never wanted to sleep with Jeremy. She just wanted Jake to think she did.
Should she have ever put Jeremy in that situation in the first place? FUCKING DURR NO SHE SHOULDN'T HAVE. But can we please just fucking remember who the real villain of the show is? Ya know, the one force that actually made it so that Jeremy COUDLNT LEAVE.
The SECOND the squip is down for the count (after it spouts of "WARNING WARNING" and isn't heard from again until after Christine leaves), Jeremy guns it! And Chloe doesn't stop him! Jake is pissed off, mission accomplished! She doesn't need Jeremy anymore!
Chloe's an insecure teenage girl that's afraid of being insignificant so she makes stupid fucking choices. DYWH in particular is a REALLY stupid choice.
I'm not asking you to forgive her. I'm not asking you to listen to DYWH on repeat. I'm not even asking you to like Chloe. Maybe just don't declare her the worst character in the show and make others others feel like shit for playing with her character and making her more than Hot Girl #1.
Chloe is among the least developed characters, even after script changes, so maybe you can't pick out a lot of redeeming qualities. Maybe there are none in canon. That's never stopped fandom from making things up and projecting onto their blorbos.
She's catty, she's mean, she's pretty much written to be unlikable. But she's a terrible actress, she snaps a hanger in half at the mere mention of Madeline's name, she gives Jeremy the Absolute Most Backhanded Advice during VIMH and it's Hilarious in both versions of the script. ("She probably thinks that acne is hot," she a little confused but she got the spirit. "Don't dump her on Halloween," YOU CAUSED THAT DRAMA YOURSELF. Call it gaslighting but it's Literally played as a joke, much the same as her mini rant in the second verse of Smartphone Hour. And while we're talking about it,, the truth literally comes out during The Play when Brooke and Chloe find out that neither of them slept with Jeremy. How much that gets elaborated on off-screen is up for fanfic/headcanon to decide.)
As much as people can see all sides of the squipcident (ie how Jeremy and Michael both went through hell in their own ways) it seems like EVERYONE demonizes Chloe for one (1) scene that had way more squip interferance than it seems like ANYONE will admit.
I can compartmentalize: Chloe fucked up AND she has really funny moments. Chloe fucked up AND she has a lot of societal pressures as a conventionally attractive teenage girl. Chloe fucked up AND it barely holds a candle to the part the squip played in Jeremy's life ON HALLOWEEN ALONE.
She kissed him once unprompted, got on top of him for 3 seconds, and certainly made him uncomfortable. But the fucking squip assaulted him more than Chloe EVER did by MAKING him drink, MAKING him kiss her when he didn't want it the first time, PREVENTING him from moving, and KNOWING that Chloe was going to try and make a move on him IN THE FIRST FUCKING PLACE and ACTIVELY KEEPING HIM THERE when it surely would've known that there was SOME PROBABLE OUTCOME where he wouldn't be ok with it, if there was EVER an outcome where he would be ok with it.
Why the fuck are squip redemption fics a thing? (That's a whole other rant on its fucking own, but I have work tomorrow so)
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spunsugarmusings · 1 year
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Mun's Playlists Starter Sentences: Yandere Edition
From the mixed-up playlists of the creator of spunsugarmusings, here's a lyric starter meme based on the theme of yanderes. Trigger warnings for stalking, violence, kidnapping, murder, and blood. Change pronouns as necessary! Some of these songs DO contain gendered pronouns.
"Sweetheart, please don't yell at me."
"It really isn't hard to see the truth that's rotting underneath."
Do you really think I'm out of line tonight?!"
"If you play my game, she might just make it out alive!"
"I'm not asking much, just give me your heart and put no one else above me."
"Go on, say you love me!"
"Without you my life means nothing!"
"I'll always see behind your smoke and mirrors."
"I know you love me deep inside."
"You're simply caught up in her lie, so I will cut you free myself."
"If you still won't accept it, you're gonna regret it!"
"I will devour your soul and make you wholly mine, so that you will belong to me for the rest of time."
"I want you to know that I only do this out of love."
"You're creepy when you're kind."
"You'd kill for me?"
"I'm a doll in your hands."
"You chucked me out like I was trash, for that you should be dead!"
"They're keeping you away from me!"
"They made you blind, messed up your mind, but I can set you free!"
"I was meant to be yours."
"You were meant to be mine! I am all that you need!"
"Sure you're scared, I've been there!"
"Please don't leave me alone. You were all I could trust "
"I'm a collector of beautiful things."
"I capture and keep them and pin down their wings."
"She will be my most precious prize."
"I have collected a beautiful dream."
"Cutting you up will be so refreshing for me."
"Laughing gas can be so much fun!"
"I just feel the need to be getting a little of you and a lot of bloodletting."
"This is no orthodox beheading!"
"I'm all out of hurt, you used up all I've got!"
"Everything you do, I'm obsessed with you."
"I don't mean to scare you, but you're just so cute!"
"I wanna cut you up and put you in my oven just to bake."
"I'd love to wipe these other bitches out so it's just you and me."
"The thought of caring for anyone makes me want to scream."
"Should I be scared?"
"You were comforting and quiet, how did love become so violent?"
"Everything was so sweet, until you tried to kill me."
"You never seem to notice when I follow you home."
"Just know I'm not the sinister type."
"I murdered half the town and left you love notes on their headstones."
"You die like angels sing."
"I want you stuffed into my mouth."
"But love, I'd never hurt you."
"I was born only to share my love with you."
"You are mine and we will never be apart!"
"Do anything, I won't refuse! Just to prove I love you more, don't you see?"
"I will burn in the flame every trace of her name!"
"I'll make you see, force you to be in love with me externally."
"Can't you see, you belong to me?"
"Goodness you're bleeding, what a wonderful feeling!"
"Tasting your blood means I love you!"
"Do you wanna let me tie you to the back of my Ferrari?"
"Will you let me cut your head off if I tell you that I'm sorry?"
"You're mine and I'm yours! If I'm sick, you're the cure!"
"I can't be sorry when her ending was overdue."
"Don't wanna come on strong, but babe, my patience is nearly gone."
"The only one worthy to be with you's me."
"When I'm done there won't be anybody left to stand between you and me."
"You'll be my local hero, you'll be my role model, and don't fail me now."
"I'm your biggest fan, it's so good to finally meet you!"
"Don't you think I deserve better after all that we've been through?"
"I will love you liked you died a martyr for me."
"Don't look so shocked, it's not the way I planned it!"
"Don't you fight back!"
"This'll hurt less if you just submit!"
"They don't know you, not like I do."
"One day you will learn to love me."
"One day you will thank me, you'll see."
"If I can't have you, no one can."
"Only you and I were meant to be forever."
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veilkeeper · 5 months
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im gonna be honest roz is having a bad time right now
i think i've been pretty clear about this but i think it's time i made a dedicated post about how bad of a time roz is having as of early act 3, because we kind of left off on a high in act 2 and it's been all downhill from there. so let's summarize. roz enjoyers, read on.
first the act starts with the emperor reveal. this is fucked in and of itself, not just because roz is a githyanki and the emperor is a mindflayer keeping their prince subdued, but because it is confirmation that they have trusted and sacrificed for someone who has been lying to them, and they're kind of locked into a dynamic with him that they don't know how to untangle themself from (more on this in an upcoming post). especially since....
they're partial-illithid, and not by choice. this is the real trigger of basically everything that comes next, at least regarding their emotional state. this is the thing that makes them feel violated and isolated and like they can't talk to anyone, and is the real heart behind the insecurity they're bringing to everything else.
astarion really wants to do the ritual, and it is becoming increasingly clear that that's a terrible idea. everything they learn about it implies more and more that it's going to require doing something monstrous (because of course) and that it's going to change astarion in ways neither of them can predict. please look at the point above. roz is not really stoked about changes they can't predict or control right now.
but... even though they think it's a terrible idea to go through with the ritual, astarion really wants to. and while roz has trouble saying no at the best of times, theyre definitely not in a good state to do it now, especially since astarion is pulling out all the stops with the "manipulative boyfriend" bingo he seems to be playing. paralyzing fear of abandonment + targeted manipulation + intense insecurity = a not great roz
all of this is of course also compounded by the fact that because of where astarion is emotionally (namely, terrified that cazador is going to whisk him away and use everything he cares about against him), astarion is also not exactly forthcoming with the touchy-feely stuff either, so roz is getting absolutely no feedback from him that like... they matter to him, and that he isn't one of the many, many people who seem to be using them.
and then, halsin propositions them. and while i stand by everything i said in my long meta post about the polymance being good, actually, for roz specifically in this exact moment, i think they're saying yes more out of a desire to be desired and to just turn off their brain and do what someone else wants, and less because they think this is a good idea right now. halsin is a great guy who makes them feel safe, but they are not in a headspace to properly make a decision on this but... well. they did.
and raphael and the emperor (and soon gortash, i believe) are playing tug-of-war with roz's loyalties and roz is basically being forced to decide which Terrible Guy to trust for more than two seconds. because even if they don't trust any of them, one of them has to protect them from their tadpole long enough to actually stop the world from ending.
oh, and because it shouldn't be overlooked: they are being tasked with saving the world.
basically at this point every time i play i'm just thinking "is this the moment they have a terrible mental break down? is this the moment they have a terrible mental break down?" it's like pulling an elastic too far. they're going to have to snap sometime, right?
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lovebvni · 6 months
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hey!! shiv here!! you’re so spot on it’s scary really!! i feel like you tapped into my brain for the reading. Let’s break this down!!
1. just be is my motto. When everything fails, i just fall back to this. Nothing to get, nothing to do. Just be. Never fails me. So i’m happy to know i’m on the right path🥹
2. i want my void to be pink in colour🤭 and i have been feeling really good while doing pysch-k?? helps me accept the fact entirely that i’ll enter/wake up in the void.
3. I keep myself entertained lol!!! before i attempt to tap in the void i listen to a bunch of songs to feel light and brush off the nerves and thoughts! sometimes i even like to imagine myself safe cuddled up in bed lol (can u tell i’m deprived of physical touch lol)
4. I’m really shocked how you could see the childhood aspect too cause my earliest memory of my life is my parents fighting and my mom being really upset and i remember the helpless feeling lingering on (cause she’d just look at me and cry when i’d ask her what’s wrong) when i enter the void, i’m not saying i want the perfect parents but just parents that are sort of easy to be around. I really am not my actual self around them. I’m always holding my breath around them. I have accepted the fact that i’m not gonna be one of those kids that have a close and emotionally safe connection w their parents. It’s okay. I just don’t want to feel the need like i’m constantly walking on eggshells around them and my mom to be more independent. These are the tweaks i think you were referring to? i wasn’t thinking about this aspect a lot but i guess during the day, i still have this thought at the back of my mind and maybe that’s why you picked it up?
ALSO TRIGGER WARNING: SA!!
idk if it was this but i was assaulted as a child by one of the family members and i was in two minds if i should revise it! i was bitter for soooo long. Hated men, i even stopped listening to male artists for a while. (it’s so weird but the aftermath of what happened to me as a child is showing up now as an adult) but i am done w all of that. I have made my peace with it and as much as i hate how cliche this is gonna sound but the kind of person i have turned out to be, i wouldn’t want to change it just to be “perfect” so i won’t be revising it. I’m sorry if this upset you or anyone.
I hope i can enter the void soon and share my success story with you (please send good energy my way lol, it’s just the thought that counts really🤭🫶🏼)
Big big love to anyone and everyone reading this and going through just about anything in life. If it’s great then i only hope it’s greater for you and if it’s going absolutely shite then i hope it gets less shittier by the second.
and lastly, i think you are really really good! i would love to support your work (when i can afford it) for real! i have never had such a crazy accurate reading before. So thank you🥹 Hope you’re doing good!!!
hii shiv!!! i’m soooo happy ur reading was accurate n resonated a lot!!
when i first typed the word ‘void’ i saw it as a purple colour, vende why it’s purple in ur reading, then as i went on, the more i thought, he more pink it became. i’m pretty sure i got a visual of it too — it’s so pretty <3 like seriously, if u see me in ur void, im just looking!!!
and with ur sa, there may be something you’re still holding onto with that, or some cleansing that should to be done in ur sacral chakra. as someone who went through something similar, literally js imagining good sexual experiences with someone u love helps…. like a lot 😭😭
and i’m always sending positive energy to everyone i get readings too!! i trust n believe u will enter the void soon and it’s gonna be HELLA fun for u <3 i love u sm!!! have fun!! <3
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romanarose · 2 years
Text
Seattle: Part 2
Marc Spector X Fem!OC
Part 1 : Part 3
Masterlist here
Seattle Masterlist
Also come see me on tik tok at romana_the_cryptid
Summary: Marc gets another phone call, and this time, she might be ready to accept help.
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A/N: thank you so much for all the support for his story! I decided to change it from "reader" to an OC, bc I write better this way. Everything is the same as in the original Seattle story, she's Jewish, only difference is her name is Rebecca. I decided to make things get a little worse for Rebecca and Marc, but after this chapter, now they'll start getting better.
WARNINGS!! Okay so warnings will have spoilers but I don't want to trigger anyone. So if you'd like to skip this and not have anything spoiled, just to the cut. If you need warnings, here they are. Domestic violence, sexual assault via condom tampering, pregnancy, talk of abortion, miscarriage.
************
3 weeks went by without a word. Nothing. Marc didn’t dare text or call Rebecca; he knew better. That wasn’t the first late night phone call, but it was the first after a hospital visit. How can she not see it? How can she not see how much love she deserves? No one deserves what's happening to her. Hadn’t she told him the same thing?
“Marc stop, you didn’t deserve any of it.” Becca had held him, late one night, resting her head on his chest while his head laid on the duffle bag that held everything he owned. “What happened wasn’t your fault, and you know it. Your mom is batshit. No one deserves physical abuse. You were a child, a child who had to go through mourning alone.”
“I wasn’t alone.” 
Did Becca think she deserved it? Did she think she was less worthy of love than him? Why was she, who was nothing but kind and thoughtful, the exception? Can’t you just call her? Check in? What if I call and Jack answers? If she got hurt because of that… I know, I know… I just… Yeah, me too buddy.
He was startled out of his thoughts by his phone buzzing. He usually let it ring out in his pocket, choosing whether or not to call back later,, but decided to answer. When he pulled his phone out of his dark washed jeans, his heart jumped when Rebecca’s name. “Are you okay?” He answered with a start.
“Can’t I just call you?” He could hear her trying to smile, but there was a strain in her voice, and a lot of noises in the background he couldn’t distinguish.
“Are you just calling me?”
A pause… “I’m in an ambulance.”
Marc kicked the wall of the building he stood by “Fuck!” His hands found his hair, pulling at it as he tried to keep calm. “What's happening?”
“Marc-ah, I need you to focus, I’m on my way to the hospital and the EMT is kind enough to let me call you, so I need you to focus, okay?”
Marc felt more sober than he ever had in his life. “Talk to me, honey”
“I’m hyped on on adrenaline and pain right now, so maybe I’m just thinking clearly, but I need you to come get me-”
That’s how they met. Really met, anyway. They knew each other through Hebrew school, but ran in different circles. Rebecca’s family was the subject of a lot of gossip due to her dad's known affairs, and later, her mom's cancer. Marc remembers little Becca showing up on his doorstep sometime after Randell's death holding some casserole dish for him. She said she had made it herself, and by the way it tasted, that was probably true. “I thought, well, everyone brings food the week of the funeral, but I figured this way you didn’t have to worry about Shabbot. Or at least part of it.” His mom wasn’t worried about Shabbat at all, she wouldn’t worry about it again. But that shitty cassarol was the only thing he ate that weekend, his dad too drowned in grief and managing the household alone to notice there was nothing left to eat. 
“Yeah, yeah of course-”
“Marc, -oof- please shut up. I love you but everything hurts and I need you to just listen for once. I'm going to Seattle Grace Hospital, I need you to come out here and do. not. let me leave with Jack. When I come down from all this, I’m going to make excuses like I always do, and I cannot go back with him. He will fucking kill me in a few years, you know this. FUCK, that shit hurts.”
“What-” Marc stopped himself, not sure if she’s done.
“He saw I called you after I got out of the hospital. I have to go, just, can you please come? I’ll pay you back-” 
Marc hit the brick of the building with the side of his fist, which hurt significantly “Stop, you’re not paying for shit, Becca. Don’t worry about anything, I’ll take care of it. I’m going to get you out of there.”
“I love you.” Rebecca sharply sucks in your breath. “Don’t let me die in this stupid fucking city.” Her voice breaks, praying he’ll bail her out just one more time…
Marc started speed walking toward his apartment, he was getting her out. “Never, sweetheart, never. I’ll be there as soon as possible, okay?”
“I gotta go, they're hyping me up on painkillers and I’m going to stop making sense…” Her speech was already getting less than clear.
“Can you just… Can you lay the phone down by your head? So I can hear you?”
The tears were finally coming again and he quickly tried to get to his apartment to find flights. It was noon and he wondered if there would be any flights left. He heard her ask the EMT, then return to the phone. “Yeah, I can do that Marc.”
For the next few months, food around the house could be scarce. Not because of lack of money, but because of where his parent’s attention was. Wendy was out of commission. She really only went to the store for alcohol and her food. Elias had so much going on from mourning and services and bills… After a few months, he got the hang of things, but there were a fair amount of times Marc went to school without food. Of course, she noticed. She always noticed when people needed help. She’d always giving him some of her food. A piece of fruit and a twinkie. Half her sandwich and some carrots. Sometimes she would insist she wasn't hungry, and he could have all of it. Marc would usually refuse, but sometimes it had just been so long and he was so hungry… That’s why he was so protective of her. She had lost her mom the year before, was suffering on her own, but she still took him in.
“It’s gonna be okay, Beccs. I promise.”
“Sure” was all she could reply through the pain in her ribs.
Marc listened to the sounds in the ambulance 
‘Concussion’
‘Broken’
‘Burns’
Fuck, what did he do to her?
The EMT took the phone and told him she was out of it on the pain meds. She couldn’t tell him anything, but Marc knew it was a little piece of mercy to even inform him they were hanging up.
‘We’re going to Seattle buddy, buckle up.’
‘Oh bullocks, I hate grunge’ Steven jokes, trying to make Marc smile. It worked, even just a little and even for just a second.
Marc was lucky enough to find a flight leaving that night. Seattle was literally on the other side of the country from New York, and between that and the time change, Marc stepped out of the airport at 6. He had checked the visiting hours; he still had time.
They talked about everything. When you have no money, there isn't a lot else to kill time. Both of them worked as much as they could, of course, but there were still seemingly endless hours to kill. When you don’t have a house to clean or a car to fix, that frees up a lot of time. There were a lot of long, hot summer days with nothing to do. After the incident where Rebecca had passed out from the heat, Marc tried to keep her cool as much as possible. Elias had warned him that after you get heat stroke once, you get more sensitive to heat. They began spreading a lot of time at the beach, much to Marc’s constant stress. Rebecca had never asked to go to the beach, never suggested anything water related outside of the fountain parks, fully aware that Marc hadn’t swam since his brother’s death. Infact, there were multiple times she had refused to go when Marc insisted. But eventually, on a particularly hot day, she couldn’t resist.
When Marc finally saw Rebecca for the first time in years, she was barely recognizable as she slept. The nurse warned Marc that she was sleeping, but Rebecca had given a message that if a Marc Spector came, they were to let him in. She looked different. Very different. Disturbingly different. Her hair, normally medium brown and curly, was straightened and lightened to an almost caramel color. And she was thin. He could see it in her face, she’d lost weight. Growing up, Rebecca’s weight was a point of mild annoyance for her. She was always confident, always wore what she wanted, but there were always little comments she made here and there. Not something he ever saw her caring enough to do anything about. She wasn’t one to change herself in general. Marc wondered how much of these changes were Jack’s idea, or if he had simply beaten down her confidence enough that she took it upon herself.
“Marc?” Becca stirred from her nap. Recognizing her friend, her face lit up. There she was. There was the girl he knew.
Marc strode over to her side, sitting on the chair as she sat up “Hey Rivkah- no don’t sit up, rest” She didn’t listen. Never does. Marc helps prop up pillows behind her, knowing damn well he can’t argue with her. He brushed her straightened hair from her face; it was thick as ever. “You’re safe now, I’m here” He was cataloging any injuries he could find. There was the  busted lip and a bruise around her eyes, but the most disturbing was the burns on the right side of her face and neck.
She saw him eyeing her. “Marc it’s fine, don’t-”
“Stop” it came out a little more harsh than he meant it to. “Don’t start doing that-”
“I’m not doing anything-”
“You’re mitigating, you always do this you always-” Marc took a breath, dialing back his frustration. “Every time you call me, you always tell me it’s fine. But it’s not. Tell me what he did.”
Becca closed her eyes, she knew she had to honest with him. She spoke almost monotonously. “When he saw that I had called you, he confronted me. I had just boiled tea and had the water in my cup.” She opened her brown eyes, but didn’t look at him. “He threw the water in my face.”
“Fuck, Beccs…” Marc moved his hands behind the hospital bed, hiding the way his fists clenched. Never was he more thankful to Khonshu than he was right now. Jack was going to pay for this one.
“Marc, don’t. I know what you’re thinking, no Moon Knight shit.”
It was like she could read his mind… “He can’t keep getting away with it, Beccs, and you’re not staying with him.”
“It’s not that simple, Marc”
The man was too stunned to speak. “Rebecca you can’t be serious…”
Tears pricked at her eyes as she looked at him, pleading with him to understand, although she couldn't understand herself.  “He’s my husband, Marc.”
Slowly, over the rest of the summer, they made their way to the water. Temperature right off Lake Michigan was always cooler than the city was, so it already cooled them down. With baby steps, Marc slowly dipped his toes in the water, eventually allowing the water up to his waist. Marc would follow Rebecca everywhere she swam, Rebecca remained conscious in her swimming too far out, as to not make Marc go further than he was comfortable. He would never stop her from swimming, he would never stop her from doing anything… not that he could if he tried. Rebecca was always the kind of girl where if you told her she couldn’t, she would do it just to prove a point. That’s what he loved. Her ability to be unapologetically herself.
He resisted the urge to throw his hands up in frustration. “We’re Jewish! We believe in divorce! We’re not baptists!”
When she looked away from him again, glaring at the floor, he sighed, continuing. “What else. What else did he do?”
She muttered something he couldn’t quite hear.
“He broke your ribs?!” Marc felt like he could kill Jack. His rage was blinding, a white hot furry he had to try and push back. He couldn’t be freaking out right now, she needed him here.
“Bruised, Marc. Bruised them.” She turned back to him, almost glaring. “Just bruised. He said he’s going to go to therapy, and he’s going to stop drink-”
“He was here?”
She looked like she had been caught. She didn’t mean to let that slip. “Y-yeah. He’s um… he’s getting dinner right now. I was going to tell you not to come, but he…” She wished she could stop talking. Stop telling Marc everything, maybe he’d leave her be. But this was Marc, her Marc, she’d known him since pretty much as far back as she could remember. There weren't any secrets. “He took my phone.”
Marc shook his head. “No. No he’s not coming back in here, I swear to god, Beccs, he’s not touching you again.”
“Marc…” She closed her eyes, resigning herself to… something. “I’m sorry I dragged you out here-”
Before Marc could interject, Jack came in the door. He didn’t look as nervous as he should’ve been. “Marc, should’ve known you’d show up.” He was holding a bag of chinese food from down the street.
Marc instinctively stood up, placing himself between Jack and Rebecca. “When you burn my friend’s face, yeah, I’m gonna come.”
Jack slowly set down the food. “Friend, huh?” He was straightening up, almost postering. Not that he really needed to, Jack was several inches taller than Marc, but Marc was not intimidated. 
“Yeah, my friend. I need you to leave, otherwise we’re going to have a problem.” Marc took a step towards Jack, itching for a reason to hit him.
One of their favorite activities when the inseparable pair were too tired to swim was to lay in the water, the waves splashing up to cover their legs and dip under their backs. Marc had never envisioned that he would ever be comfortable like this, but he was. Perhaps it was the way she held Marc's hand. One of her hands laced with Marc’s and her other wrapped around his arm, securing him to her. They would lay like this for hours, either in silence or talking. Talking came so easy with her in a way it never was with anyone else. He supposed it was because there was nothing to hide. His brother, his mom, being homeless, the marines, mercenary, moon knight…. She had been there for all of it, in different ways. 
‘Do you want kids?’ She had asked, rather suddenly one day.
Marc thought about this, and for a long time. She held his hand for at least a minute while he considered, never pressuring him for an answer. ‘I don’t think so. I don’t think I’d be good at it.’
He felt her turn to him, frowning. He avoided her gaze. “Marc, that’s not true. You’d be an amazing dad’ she paused before answering. ‘You’re not your mom, honey’
Marc couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of him with a baby. ‘I wouldn’t know how to take care of it, honestly’ He continued to avoid looking at her. When she was in that swimsuit, he had to actively stop his eyeline from drifting down. He respected her, he loved her… but he was still 18 after all.
She had spoken so softly, he had shivered. ‘You take care of me…’
Jack laughed. He fucking laughed at Marc. “Oh yeah? You gonna take her away on your white horse, back to your shitty apartment? Gonna fix all her problems until she finally fucks you?”
“You shut the fuck up” Marc, don’t fall for it, he’s taunting you “Don’t fucking talk about her like that.” He took another step, pointing his finger at the bastard in front of him.
“You gonna raise the baby too?”
Jack’s words hung in the air and for a moment all Marc could do was stare at Jack’s smug face. Jesus… His stomach dropped as the realization kicked in. She was pregnant. She was pregnant with Jack’s baby and now she was never going to leave.
A small voice from behind him. “Jack, what are you talking about?” Rebecca looked as confused and scared as Marc did.
Marc stepped back, just enough so she could talk to him, but close enough he could still protect her.
“You’re pregnant, Becca. You hadn’t notice your period is late?”
Rebecca looked like she was still processing, still connecting the dots. “I… my period has always been unpredictable… sometimes it doesn’t come… and we use condoms…”
“You thought we used condoms. You’ve been throwing up, gaining weight”
The realization hit Becca like a brick. He had purposefully gotten her pregnant. He had violated her body to trap her in this hell of a marriage. “Get out.” Her voice was shaky, but firm. “Get the fuck out of here, Jack.” She wanted Marc’s hand, but she was frozen. “I’m leaving.”
Jack took a step forward, but stopped when Marc moved in front of Becca. He wanted to allow her the autonomy to end this herself, but Jack was not going near her. Not again. 
Jack eyed Marc up and down. “You gonna raise the baby?”
There was no hesitation. “If she decides to have it, yes.”
Jack scoffed, turning to Rebecca who looked frozen in shock, hand on her stomach. “You have an abortion, and I swear to god, I will kill you.”
Becca whimpered, looking at him in terror. “Please leave.” She turned to Marc, pleadingly. “Marc, please make him leave, please?”
Marc didn’t need to be told twice. He stepped up to Jack. “You have two choices, Jack. One, you can leave and walk away with all your bones intact, or two, I will make you leave and you’ll be lucky to walk away with your life.”
When Jack had initially entered the room, Jack thought he could take Marc, no problem. But the way the shorter man looked at him right now was fucking feral. Jack had no doubt in his mind that Marc would tear him limb from limb. Wanting to keep some semblance of control, he turned to Rebecca one last time. “I’ll see you soon, Becca” he winked, and left as Marc started walking towards him.
Marc slammed the hospital door behind Jack, rushing back to Rebecca when he heard her start to cry, pushing away every bit of anger that was threatening to blow over. He’d deal with Jack later. Right now, she needs him. Marc sat on the bed, very very carefully taking her in his arms, being mindful of her bruised ribs and the scalded skin. “Oh honey, it’s gonna be okay, metuka. I promise.”
She tried to hold him tighter but winced when she hurt her ribs. “I didn’t think I could get pregnant… my period was so irregular I… I just assumed I couldn’t… I don’t know what I’m going to do…”
‘What about you, Beccs? Any kids in your future?’ He allowed himself to look at her pretty face, her dark curls splattered in the sand.
She grinned. ‘Oh yeah. Lots of ‘em. I’m gonna break the cycle. Those little kids are going to be so fucking loved.’
‘You’ll be a great mom, Becca.’ He meant it. Marc had never met a woman who was more loving and thoughtful. There was no doubt in his mind that she’s excel as a mother.
Marc let go, not wanting to hurt her more. She was taking deep breaths, calming down. “Don’t worry about that now, okay? We’ll get to New York and get you an appointment with a doctor, see how far you are. New York’s abortion laws aren’t too bad, you have plenty of time to decide what you want to do. I promise to support whatever it is.”
She shook her head. “You don’t want a baby in your apartment, Marc”
“Beccs, don’t worry about-”
“Don’t lie to me”
“Rivkah, I swear to you that if you want the baby, I will help you.” Marc promised. Her body had already been violated in a variety of ways, the least he could do is allow her autonomy over this. “And I swear to god that if you get an abortion, he won’t touch you. Don’t let any of that affect your choice.“ He touched the side of her voice that wasn’t burned, and she closed her eyes, leaning into him. “It’s all up to you”
“All I ever wanted was to be a mom…” Her voice cracked, she was scared to death, uncertainty clouding her senses.
Marc kissed her forehead gently. “If that’s what you want, that is what you’ll be” 
That night, after Rebecca fell asleep, Marc found himself in front of her apartment, banging on the door. I don’t know if this is a good idea… Steven warned. But Marc wasn’t listening. He was going to get her necessary items, kick Jack’s ass, and go. When Jack opened the door, there was a gun in Marc’s face. This did not phase him. Marc quickly disarmed Jack, pistol whipping him before he unleashed the last several years of hatred. For every time he hurt her, violated her, insulted her, Marc laid another blow. 
Marc, that’s enough… Steven spoke softly, warning Marc before he took it too far. Breathless, Marc pulled himself off Jack’s beaten body. “Where’s her papers.” Jack carefully directed Marc to Becca’s social, birth certificate insurance card, etc, and the phone she had stolen as well. He found a few backpacks and filled them up with things she might need:  He walked by the shelf in her bedroom, spotting a small teddy bear. He couldn’t fucking beleive it.
It was the summer they were homeless, there was a fair in town and although Marc hated crowds, Rebecca was so excited to see the bands that were playing. She hadn’t asked for a single thing, but Marc had insisted on spending just a little bit of money. They had gone on the ferris wheel and she nearly squeezed the life out of his hand on the tilt-a-whirl. They split a funnel cake while they watched the free show and she had managed to flirt  a couple beers from the bartender who didn’t bother checking ID. Every time they walked by the balloon darts, he caught Becca eyeing a teddy bear. She would never in her life ask Marc to waste money on that scam, but all Marc wanted was to see her smile. He’d give his last dime to see her smile… So he tried to win it. And tried again. And tried a third time. After spending way too much money, he had won her the teddy bear, grinning ear to ear as she squealed, jumping up and down and hugging him. She slept with it every night that summer, and it had been in the bed the night they had made love. He couldn’t believe she kept it all these years…
When he came back to the hospital,  he knew something was wrong. The hall outside her room was a commotion, doctors and nurses going out. “What’s happening?” He demanded, running to the room. The nuse older nurse that had been working with Rebecca gave him a look. “Honey, you know I can’t tell you that.” Of course. Marc wasn’t her husband. He was a coward when they were kids and missed his chance. He wasn’t her husband. 
Marc gave an apologetic nod to the nurse and pushed his way in, where he found his pretty girl curled up in a ball, arms wrapped around her head.
“Sweetheart, Beccs…” Marc sat on the beds, stroking her hair. “What’s going on…” a thousand worst case seniors ran through his head. Why did he leave? How could he leave her here? Of course something had happened in the hours he was gone…
She didn’t come out of her huddle. “You don’t have to worry about a baby anymore…”
It was then that Marc noticed her nightgown had been changed, as were the sheets of the bed. 
“Oh honey… I’m so sorry…” She shook her head that was still in her arms. “I didn’t even know if I wanted it…” She spoke through broken sobs.
Marc was unsure how to respond. She didn’t know if she was going to keep it, but she wasn’t sure if she had wanted an abortion either. “Can I lay with you?” Marc wasn’t could with words, but he could be there with her, he could hold her.
“If you want, but I’m still bleeding, you might-” Get blood on you she almost said, but Marc was already climbing in the bed, she happily made room for him. 
“Don’t worry about that, honey. Can I hold you?” He asked. He wanted every move he made to be approved by her. Rebecca nodded, and Marc slipped an arm around her waist, ever-conscious of her ribs. 
There was a moment of silence as she cried before she spoke. “She said it wasn’t my fault. The nurse. She said it wasn’t me…”
Marc brushed the hair with the back of his hand. “Of course not, Beccs, none of this is your fault. Any of it.”
“I asked if this was because I wasn’t taking care of it, since I still drank and wasn’t taking vitamins, if I did something…”
“Oh honey, no…” Marc wanted to take it all away from her. Whether or not she had wanted the baby, he understood this was a horrific thing to go through
“She said the stress my body took today might have induced it…” A shaking breath, and she winced at the pain in her ribs. “He made me get pregnant and he made me miscarry. I didn’t get a choice in any of it.”
That summer, they had existed as a unit. What they had, they shared. What they didn’t have they went without together. It had always been that way. Since the day Rebecca had shown up at his doorstep, sharing the food she had while dealing with her dad’s abuse. Every day of middle school where Rebecca helped cover a bruise with make-up. Every time in high school when Marc was sick with no one to care for him and she brought him soup and medicine she stole from her dad’s cabinet. Every time Marc defended her from shitty men or held her when he couldn’t protect her from one in particular. Back then, it had been her dad. Now, it was Jack. He hadn’t been able to protect her from her dad or Jack, but he wouldn’t let it happen again.
There Marc held her, whispering soft assurances and words of love in her ear as Rebecca cried herself to sleep in his arms.
****************
I hope this wasn't too dark y'all, I promise this is the worst of it. I needed something that Rebeca couldn't mitigate, something that Jack could never come back from. The rest of the fic will be Marc helping Rebecca get back on her feet, helping her find herself again, their relationship progressing, and both of them reconnecting with their faith.
Tagging everyone who had asked for a part two, this ill be around 5-10 parts, so if you don't want to be on the tag list, lmk! I won't be offended. It'll probably be closer to 5-7 parts.
@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @ninebluehearts @sofi786 @myfandomlikesandstories
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adviceformefromme · 2 years
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I experience anxiety every second of my day. It’s hard to even talk to people without analyzing my words. Thanks for listening💗
So sorry to hear this sweetie, as someone who has lived through severe anxiety that consumed my life, I want you to know there is light at the end of the tunnel. Here are some things that helped me live an anxiety free life (it's been a long journey so the list is quite long).
Firstly becoming aware of my thoughts. Noticing the voice in my head, what it would tell me when certain things would happen. At work for example, if my manger questioned my work I would mentally spiral into negative thinking about being stupid, loosing my job, panicking. My inner voice was my worst enemy, constantly judging and putting me down. Once i noticed this voice, I learnt to redirect it to a more rational view point at first, and eventually my inner voice became my biggest cheerleader.
Learning to meditate, I did courses, retreats, downloaded meditation apps, watched guided meditations on youtube, I tried every type of meditation, I read books also. Meditation is one of the main reasons i no longer live with debilitating anxiety and i recommend this over everything, once you can see your thoughts, you can redirect them and learn to let them pass and this in itself is a skill for life.
Addressing my childhood wounds. I was walking around with so much unresolved trauma, constantly being triggered, and failing successfully in all relationships. CBT (cognitive behavioural therapy) changed my life, along with reading books such as Susan Anderson - Taming your outer child, and Return to love by Marianne Williamson.
Becoming less fake and more authentic. I found a lot of my anxiety also stemmed from not being authentic day in day out. Pretending to be someone I wasn't. If I was nervous I would become more loud to mask the nerves, which only made me feel even more anxious. It was only until I started accepting, and honouring who I was, that being more reserved in my true introverted nature, that's when the social anxiety stopped almost instantly.
Removed toxic friends. At the time, I had friends I felt I couldn't be myself around, friends who didn't share the same values of me. All these factors messed with my energy and it felt so off to be around these people, its like my body was repelling them. Once I removed these people, and made friends with women who I felt more myself around my anxiety also fell away.
It was a long journey, and I've come out the other side. I often wondered in the depths of that stomach wrenching feeling you get that cripples you, if my anxiety would ever end? If this was what I was stuck with for life? I used to read articles online about people who had overcome anxiety and it gave me hope. I was so associated with my anxiety it become part of who I was and for a period I had to stop using the word 'anxiety' it was latching itself to me. Eventually after all of the above, after so much self love and healing it's finally over. Don't get me wrong there are still moments where it rears its head, but it passes just as quickly as it appeared.
If you need more support or if anyone reading this is living through anxiety and needs extra help please DM me. I will always have time for you, and will try and help as much as I can. Xoxoxo
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dreamingdarklyblog · 6 months
Text
Process Breakdown
hypnoticpresence
It's not boring to me. I may not be writing professionally, but I still enjoy hearing about the creative process. Please consider me a vote for more of a breakdown and thank you so much for sharing what you have.
Well let's see...
Today I was working on a post for the Nerdy Girl Next Door set. And I got permission from @sweetn0vato use her photos last month. I just haven't gotten around to using any yet. She has a great, cute, girl next door look and wears glasses. Which, is pretty stereotypical but sells "nerdy girl" pretty well.
So I figured I should find one of her photos that would work. Usually choosing a photo is a lot broader job, I've got a "Gallery" of potential shots set up with 30 of so images per page, somewhat loosely sorted. So I can tab through them and try to find something that jumps out at me with a good idea. In this case the gallery is a lot smaller. @sweetn0va is very hot, but most of the things she posts are gifs or videos, and quite lower resolution. There's not a whole lot of photos that will work.
Tumblr media
Here's what I found parsing through her media. Made some notes for your guys sake with my thoughts. I wasn't sure what kind of post I wanted to make, aside from the general theme. Go with a blank look, her being programmed over a facetime call? I like the outdoor shot, she looks gorgeous, but I don't think it really sells the mind control angle well. I could try and shoehorn it in... But there are better options.
In the end I opted for the "schoolgirl" outfit. I felt it leaned into the "girl next door" fantasy best. For a different theme I probably would have picked the one above it, or the top left if I wanted a blank look.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Next step is setting up the page, applying a watermark, and making some word bubbles. I usually get them started, then apply some styles I have pre-configured for different character "tones". I'm sure it's obvious, but I tend towards a default of blue and green. Blue being for the "male" voice, and green being female. I also make heavy use of pink when there's more than 1 female, or when it's a clearly ditzy/bimbo voice. It's a blatant sexist stereotype, but I find it's a good way to quickly communicate more about the scene without having to "Say" it.
Once the styles are applied I re-arrange and resize the bubbles to fit, and start really "Writing". Usually I have only the general outline of where I want the scene to go. Where it starts, where it ends, maybe a beat or two in the middle if a good line pops into my head, but mostly I just write a line and then move on to the next one. I very often find that the dialogue just doesn't flow in the direction that I wanted it to, and have to make adjustments to the intended "Story".
Probably less than half actually end where I originally intended. The rest change on me as the characters voices develop on the page, and they take a different direction. This one changed a fair bit on me, as I'd intended one idea, but instead it drifted into sort of a trigger play direction.
Anyway. This page is now finished, but not published on the discord yet. I sent it to @sweetn0va for final approval, before showing it to anyone else ;). If you want to see it before it makes it to the tumblr (at current page that will be about... 3 months) you know where to sign up for the Patreon ;)
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rouge-variant · 2 years
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Hi, do you think it would be different if Levi was in a relationship with a woman from the Underground or the surface? imo he would be much more protective of her if she was from the Underground because people were quite nasty towards him too when he came to the surface.
Ooh this is good. Now please don't hate me but I'm going to have to disagree with you a little bit here. I'll get into it more once we jump into it. Im going to split the headcanon into three parts, they'll be 4 main points and the results for Underground, Surface and Underground to Surface. For Underground to Surface Y/n, her description is based on what Anon asked for; 'he met in the scouts who just happens to be from the Underground and is a lil bit weak, could barely get by there because she was always sick, scared of her shadow etc. and was lucky enough to escape the hellhole.' Let me know how you feel about it and if you wanted it changed at all 😊. I'm so sorry this took so long. I've been falling behind with requests! Thanks for the request and I hope you enjoy!!
Differences Between Levi and his S/O if she was from the Underground or Surface Headcanons:
Trigger Warning: Because the request takes place partly in the Underground, there is going to be mentions of, but very basic detail, of stalking, bullying and people being jerks towards Levi and Y/n. Please keep that in mind while you read.
Protectiveness:
Underground)
Levi is going to be less concerned about you handling yourself when you guys both go above to the Surface for the first time. He's been with you for years and have seen you fight off drunk creeps and stalkers. As well as people twice or triple your size on contract deals so you guys can get money to buy food for the next few days. You've grown up in the closest thing to hell in that world so he knows you can handle yourself. He will still keep an eye on you since sometimes you miss something if you're preoccupied with another task but overall, you call your own shots.
Surface)
This one is when he's more protective. You've lived a sheltered life compared to what he had growing up and he worries that you'll end up overlooking something that might end up harming you. Don't take this the wrong way, he trusts you with his life and knows that you're capable on your own since he's trained you but there's only so much he can teach compared to what experience can teach. He just wants the best for you and once you've been through a little bit more intense situations, he'll ease up and let you go off on your own.
Underground to Surface)
He would constantly be by your side. He's seen the way you train and he's seen the way you struggle with keeping up with the rest of the recruits. Levi worries that the one time he lets you go off on your own, you won't come back to him. He's also going to train you one-on-one so if you ever do get separated from him, at least he'll know you can take care of yourself for a little. If you ever confront him about this, he'll explain that he's just stressed about your well-being and try to ease up a little but it's going to be very difficult for him.
Dealing with People:
Underground)
When the two of you joined the Scouts, people weren't the most welcoming. If anything, you both felt threatened by them and they felt the same. Since you both felt on edge, you both tended to just watch from the sides and chose not to interact with anyone. If people interacted with you, Levi watched but let you attempt to handle it. He would step in the minute you started to lose control over the situation. And you did the same for him. Especially when he earned the title of Humanities Strongest Soldier and girls started to flock him everytime you two went into town. You came in and pushed last one of them back and made it very clear who Levi belonged to so that they would back off. You guys have it balanced pretty much 50/50 when it comes to dealing with people and saving the other.
Surface)
You've dealt with crappy people before but not to a point where they would come and try being more forceful. Levi knows this and won't let you out of his sight when you're in a busy place with people everywhere. He'll keep a hand on your back and guide you through busy area, making sure that no one would attempt to snag something from your bag hanging at your hip or put their hands on you even if it was by accident. You would scare the crap out of him momentarily if you ran off and he would try and scold you but he wouldn't since he knows that he's the one at fault.
Underground to Surface)
The bright side with Levi always being around you is that people problems would be almost none existent. Everyone knows better than to mess with you when Levi's around. But the minute that you're on your own, that's when the bullying starts. You're able to ignore most of them but if it turns physical, then you struggle. The bullies can only get so far before Levi comes in and saves you, making sure to assign brutal punishments to those who hurt you. Then afterwards he makes sure to take the best care of you when tending to any injuries that they caused to you and help calm you down. He feels guilty inside too for letting that happen to you and promises to watch out for you more.
Relationship Dynamic:
Underground)
You both work in sync for the most part. There are a few differences in your preferences as you guys aren't always going to agree. Like I said earlier, it's pretty balanced power wise. You tend to Levi take over in newer situations especially since joining the Scouts. Levi is able to keep the same mask up to hide the way he feels and naturally gives off an intimidating aura. You have to show that messing with you is a mistake. Levi doesn't think any less of you when you do this but he does enjoy teasing you about it later, with a kiss as an apology when you start pouting.
Surface)
You are constantly helping Levi explore everything that he never did in the Underground. He usually isn't one to sit back and let someone else take control but you have proved to him time and time again that this is a good idea. So you are the one who has more control. At least in less populated areas or when you guys are on your own. But just because you take the lead so often, don't expect him to just let you do it. He can be softer in private with you too. Making sure to do small things around the place to take the load off of you and your work. He always insists on taking care if you first since your always doing it to him. Out in public, he's the one in control and if you ever have a problem with it, he'll make it up to you with plenty of kisses back home later.
Underground to Surface)
This one, Levi will be the dominant one. He knows that you've had to survive on your own for such a long time and always have people push you down. So he wants to make sure that he properly shows you how to be treated. Like anything else, he's going to be softer around you and try his best to give you as much physical affection as you need. Anything that's causing a problem for you, he won't solve entirely on his own, as he wants you to learn how to be the strong person you need at times, but he'll definitely offer advice or solutions when you need it.
Summary
Overall Levi would act the same whether you are from the Surface or from the Underground. He would work his hardest to give you the life he thinks you deserve and more. He doesn't expect you to do the same because you have stuck by his side for years fighting with other punks for food or showing him the best places to find high quality in Trost. He knows that if you didn't love him then you would never have put this much consideration into the things you do with him and he is grateful for every day with you. Even if you'll be the death of him for your sudden memory of something that goes missing and end up making the largest mess he's ever seen in your shared room!
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lazydreamsublime · 1 year
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Do You Pinky Promise
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CH.4
I Keep Tryin' Just To Make It To The End Of The Day You Know I Hate It
Summary: You should've been more aware! Why were you even thinking!? What in your mind made you think this was a great idea!? How can you be so careless? ..... Where do you go from here? You need to take steps, SOMETHING needs to happen. But what?
Triggers: There is drug abuse, there is violence, different kinds of smokes and child abuse in this story. Please be mindful of the following content.
Silco x addict!f!reader
AO3 Chapter1 Chapter2 Chapter3
Three days.
You've stayed home for three days.  
Doing nothing.  
Laying in your torn up, old pjs, being angry at yourself. 
You haven’t taken any pills since that night. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at the bottle. 
Knowing it was half empty. 
You decided that someone pissed you off, ‘so you must take more opioids to help you calm down’. 
The hell were you thinking? 
 Now a guy lost his leg, and is being prepped as a new installation in the chem berserkers. 
You sit up on the couch you were laying on, and stare at the three bottles of pills that sit on the coffee table in front of you. The two that Sevika brought you that same night, and the one that Silco teased you with. The one you took one too many from. 
You can feel the itch - the NEED to take some. 
‘Why do you let him control you?’
Why do you?  
‘You are allowing him to control you even from this distance.’ 
You glare defiantly at the bottle. A fucking bottle. 
You can hear it laughing. It sounds like his. That mocking laugh he always had when things went his way. 
‘Aaaww! Poor girly got too much candy! Look at the mess she made trying to walk!’ 
The bottles behind sound like his friends. Laughing with him.
That bastard deserves to be burned alive. 
You shake your head, make the thoughts go away. That’s the last place your mind needs to go right now. Change it, now. 
It doesn’t work of course, your mind can’t help but go back to that night. Instead, you think about the end of it. How warm Silco’s embrace was, how comforting and soft his voice sounded. How he walked you home, and shared stories of his own childhood.
He tried to make you feel less alone. The asshole who always invaded your privacy and annoyed you one way or another. Each one of his visits was like a jab at you, trying to get under your skin.
‘Still wearing the same attire? Why not wear something nicer?’ 
‘I work at a factory, not a fucking brothel. Now can you not bother me while I’m loading shimmer on a transport please?’ 
You actually smile at the memory. That was one of his first surprise visits, before the whole missing shimmer debacle. When you think back, he almost seemed at ease. You’ve never seen him work with anyone else so you can’t really compare, but you're sure that he’s at least comfortable around you. 
You at least tried to annoy him back. Never seemed to work though. 
'Copious. Isn't that a weird word? Like, who came up with it and thought that's an awesome word?' 
'Is this what you spend your time doing instead of working?' 
'Only when I'm high.'  
You wouldn't call it a friendship, but there was some sort of ease that was between you two. Not sure what to call it yet. 
You go into your bathroom to rinse your face off in the sink. You look up into your broken mirror, pieces of glass missing from the frame. You’re not being able to make out anything other than the color of your eyes and your hair. You truly can’t remember what you look like. 
Has it really been that long? 
Well, this is as good a start as any. 
You rummage through your junk drawer until you feel a thin handle. You pull it out and see you found your mother’s old hand mirror. It came with a cover so the glass wouldn’t break easy when not in use. 
She gave it to you when you left home. 
‘Don't lose yourself in the dark streets of the night. They can do more to your psyche than you think.’ 
Maybe you should’ve taken that to heart. 
You take a deep breath, face the mirror towards you, and remove the cover. 
It took everything in you to not drop the thing. Staring back at you was a face you haven’t seen in almost twenty years. Ever since you left home. And now you remember why. 
A scar. 
A deep ugly scar that started from your right brow and ended at the bottom of your left cheek. 
You remember how you got it. You remember having nightmares about it. 
You remember wanting to forget it. 
You didn’t think you’d succeed. Especially not this effectively. 
You’ve decided, this will now be step one. Everyday, take a good look at yourself. And right now, you look terrible. That’s going to change. 
Time for step two, admitting your weaknesses and your defeat. 
But you had to do it in a certain way. 
You get dressed in some clean clothes, trying to put some effort into your appearance for a change. You take another look at yourself in the propped up hand mirror and quickly try to style your hair differently. 
Emphasis on TRY. 
You shrugged it off, moved on to shoving all the pill bottles in a bag and walked out the door. 
You walked for a good half hour before you arrived at The Last Drop. Ignoring the deafening music, you made your way through the crowd. 
It hits you that you've never been here before. You just know this is a base of sorts.
A hand grabs your shoulder and you swerve around to see Sevika. She doesn’t try to speak knowing she won’t be heard over the noise. Instead she starts guiding you over to the stairs towards the back. Once you reach them she signals you to keep walking up, before you question it she blends with the crowd once more. 
So you walk up and enter a long hallway filled with doors.
You find this big important looking one, think ‘fuck it’, and open it without knocking. 
There he is. Sitting in a fancy looking chair, leaning over a fancy desk, drinking out of a fancy cup. 
Everything about this screams ‘snob’. You have half a mind to comment on it, make a joke out of it, but this was far too serious to ignore. You had to do this if you wanted to break free. 
“I’m busy.” He doesn’t even look up to see who just walked in without knocking. So you take that as an invitation despite what he just said. 
You close the door, walk up to his desk, and set the bag of pills on his desk. He finally looks up to see who’s disturbed his work. If he’s surprised it’s you, he doesn’t give off any hints.  
You both just look at each other for a moment. You’re having second thoughts. 
NO. 
You’re committed. 
You look him dead in the eyes, still remembering his question. 
You finally have an answer. 
“Cause I wanted to prove I could beat him.” 
He hums and sits back, giving you his full attention. 
“When I was seven, my dad left home to become an enforcer. He wanted to make a difference. He never came back. Two years later, mommy hated being alone, so much so she preferred an abusive asshole over nothing at all. What she didn’t know was that he’s a drug lord. He gets all sorts of medical shit from topside, either sells it as is or makes something new with it.” 
He never interrupts, he doesn’t make any faces. He just sits there and listens. 
“I of course didn’t immediately become an addict when he ‘forced them down my throat’, but I remember how I did.” 
You take a deep breath to steady your nerves, you refuse to break now. It doesn’t matter that you’ve never talked to anyone about this before, it doesn’t matter that the first person will be Silco. He asked a question.
He’ll get his answer. 
“One day, when I was fourteen, my mother was acting strange. She was loopy, one could say high. I guess in a way she was. Skipping ahead a bit, she was so out of it, she wondered….what my face would look like covered in blood. She just had to find out. So she took a kitchen knife and made a slow deep cut across my face. Didn't matter how much I screamed for her to stop.”
You took another breath.
“Dickhead came later with the pills saying they’d help numb the pain. He was telling the truth about that. What he didn’t share was the euphoria that would shoot through your brain when taking it, and how it can alter your nerves by making you feel the pain if you ever stop using it even though the wounds long since healed. So once I started taking it with a cut across my face, I couldn’t stop. Even now, with only three days of no meds, I can feel my face burning. And it’s only going to get worse
Your brows furrowed. 
“But I don’t care. I want you to keep those damn things as far away from me as possible. Lock them away if you have to. I will not be looking at another pill bottle until I’m clean and free.”     
He hums again, his eyes straying away from yours in thought. He stands and rounds his desk slowly. 
"I must admit. I was confident you'd be killing him by now." 
"Don't get it twisted, he WILL DIE. But I want to show him that he doesn't control me anymore first." 
He looks up at you again. "What prompted this?" 
"When I took that guy's leg." 
"What does that have to do with the medication?" 
"Silco, I overdosed. I was so pissed off that my fucked up brain immediately went to the pills and I didn't think twice! The bastard got what he deserved, don't go thinking I'm squeamish or anything like that. Hell, I've taken lives before. But here's the difference. I was in control of myself in those situations, I wasn't in that factory. I wasn't focused." 
"And yet you did exactly what you set out to do. If you hadn't taken the pills, what would you have done differently?" 
"I would have broken his fingers, or possibly an arm. Those can heal! An obliterated limb can't! It was a done deal that he was to become a Chem Berserker, kinda hard to set him up with a missing fucking limb." 
"That's what prosthetics are for." 
"You're missing the fucking POINT Silco. 'I' didn't do that. Brent did!!" 
…..You've always avoided saying his name ….how pathetic are you? 
Silco saw as you tried to hide the shock you felt as you turned your face away. He decided not to comment on it thankfully.  
"You truly wish for me to hold on to them?" 
Desperation is clear in your eyes as you look back at him. "Please." 
He didn't move, just looked at you. Then he opened the bag, took out the half open bottle and placed it on the desk. 
Your fingers twitched - need is flowing through you, and your scar burns more now. 
Silco focused on your hands, his eyes following then as you brought one to your face. Pressing on the old cut in hopes to ease the pain. 
"You're overestimating yourself." 
"What?" You fix him with a glare that can kill. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" 
"It means you think you can just overcome any obstacle that comes before you. And while you have continued to impress me with your work ethic, intellect, and intuition. I'm afraid I don't have much confidence in this idea of yours. Even now, only three days in, you're too temperamental."
Damn it. You look away as you can't argue with him there. 
"So I offer a compromise." He proceeded to open the bottle. "One pill." He places it in his hand and offers it to you. "We will wean you off instead of cutting you off entirely. One pill to merely help with the pain, the bottle will remain here to ward off temptation of more." 
You sighed, it made sense. You wanted to just rip the bandaid off and be done. You were impatient. 
You took the pill, pain subsiding slightly. 
"Only come back here when the pain is intolerable." 
One thing is still bugging you about this whole exchange however. 
"Why are you helping me so much?" 
He pauses from locking up the medication in a wall safe. 
"You could have let me suffer through it and find out the hard way. And I'm sure you're aware Santos can take over from me just fine." 
He finished up his part and looked directly at you. 
"I suppose I should take a hint from yesterday's example and provide you with the truth." 
You send him a light glare at the jab, but wait for his answer. 
"However, I have a better idea." He smirks at your confused look. 
You hate how good it looks on him. 
Wait. 
No. 
That's withdrawal talking. Yeah that's a thing. 
"How long did it take you to form an answer for my question again? A month?" 
He takes a seat at his desk again, "Let's see what happens in that time. And maybe I'll give you an answer." 
….Ok fair. You hated it, but you can tell he wanted a rise out of you. Just like before. He's like a child wanting the attention on him. 
He annoyed the hell out of you, but you weren't going to argue over this. He was already helping you. No need to push for details that aren't important. 
You nodded your head, "Understood, I guess I'll see you around then, boss." 
"And good day to you, manager." 
You left, feeling lighter, yet heavier at the same time. 
“So how was your talk?” 
Behind you is a slim teen with long blue twin braids.The Eye of Zaun’s wild child. People fear Jinx almost as much as Silco. But just like him, you’re not going to kick her ass. Besides, she wears an almost evil smile on her face, she looks like a good distraction. 
“Little girls like you shouldn’t be eavesdropping. Don’t you have a diary to get to?” 
“Ew. No. But, nice try though. Come on, tell me something!” 
“What's there to tell? You’re not even a part of it.” 
“With how much talk there’s been about you here? I might as well be at this point.” 
The, what? 
‘What kind of talk?” 
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about anything bad. You’re pretty much my dad’s new obsession.” 
‘Obsession’? Just how often does he mention you? What the fuck was even saying? What was there to be said!? 
“Ok! So you obviously know me, Jinx, hi. And I obviously know you,” She said your name very giddily. “So, I propose that we get to know each other!” 
You stare at her, with the biggest ‘WHAT’ look. This was a red flag, you just had to engage, you’re in it deep enough with these people, gods you shouldn’t have gone to Silco of all people for help. 
“What do you like to do for fun?” 
What? 
This is what she wanted to know? Your hobbies? 
“Uh, I used to go dirt biking.” 
“Well why’d you stop?” 
“As fun as it can be, admittedly it’s more enjoyable with the right company.” 
“Well then, let’s go!” 
“Wha - what are we doing?” 
“We’re finding out if I’m the right company!”
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Make Your Own Arcane Oc in the Actual Artsyle for me Here!
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➖ Mature content, 18+ ➖ check the trigger tags each time ➖      
Chapter 9 - Supernatural kind of love. Episode 2. Evan: *I quickly pulled away from Andy, covering myself with our blanket… suddenly feeling exposed and humiliated. For some reason everything about Congo's call sounded off. Normally he would ask politely if we were busy, and if he could come down. This sounded almost as a commando… and didn't his voice sound almost concerned?
Congo: Andy, I have to. *A short pause, then he continued in a firm voice* I'm coming down.
Andy: *Sat up straight looking rather confused* uh… *As he observed Congo walking down the stairs, a frown appeared on his forehead. The same deep frown as I could see on Congos forehead. What was going on?*
Congo: *He sighed deeply as he stood by the foot end of our bed, but as he spoke his voice was calm, though still firm* Evan… I know this wasn't on the menu for this evening, and that it's already rather late, I was more or less on my way to bed. But I beg of you, to handle this as calmly as possible, both of you. *He turned and faced Andy for a few seconds, with those 'I mean it' eyes, then turned to me again* Your family is here. Lily had so much fun with us last week, and she was so happy seeing the love blossom between you two, so she thought maybe your mom, dad and Rose could soften a bit if they saw the two of you as well. So against anyone's knowledge, she dragged them here, telling them they were going for late night coffee. Which per say isn't a lie, since I invited them in for just that. I have told them they are allowed to stay, as long as they act respectfully in our home. And I would be glad if you two would join us. Actually, I ask you to please do so. They seem calm. If trouble starts, I will escort them out myself. I promise. *He sighed deeply and tabbed Evans foot a few timed* But I do understand if you would both rather hide down here. And I will respect it. And so will they, or they will be asked to leave.
Andy: *He frowned deeper, almost hissing as he answered in a whispering voice* we were kinda busy here Congo!
Congo: *Frowned deeper* I am aware of that, Andy. I didn't ask them to come. But I don't like sending people away at the door either. They got out of the car freely when they figured where they were. And I decided that deserves a chance at least. Lily seems to strongly believe they might change their mind about you two if they see you together. So what do you say we at least give it a try instead of sinking to their level? *He smiled softly as he looked at me* sorry Evan.
Evan: *I sighed deeply* I can't go up there.
Andy: *He looked at me with a cheeky smile* Still hard?
Evan: *I grunted and rubbed my forehead as I sat up slowly* no trust me, that pleasure is long gone!
Congo: *Smiled apologizing* I understand… but it would be nice if I didn't have to entertain them myself… what do you say Andy? Lily would like to see you again anyhow.
Andy: *His face lit up as he nodded at Congo* Sure! I would like to see her as well! *He looked at me with a hint of concern in his eyes* if it's okay with you that is? I can also stay here for moral support?
Evan: *I smiled at him softly* No it's okay…. I need to clear my head anyway now, I think I'm gonna go take a shower. *I didn't say more, truth is I felt like it was suddenly hard to breathe, I needed to escape! So I wrapped the blanket around me and left the room, quickly headed for the nearest bathroom. As I was standing under the cold water, trying to numb my brain and all the different feelings running through my body, I decided it was about time to stand up for myself. It had been about 3 weeks since I last saw my parents, and big sister Rose, and let me just say, it didn't end happily. I had taken Andy along when visiting them for dinner, with the thought in mind to maybe tell them about him and I, unless I were to chicken out that is. To be fair I have… or used to have a very close relationship with my parents, they always let me make my own choices, if they were reasonable that is. They were always very open-minded and loving. And they never before judged me, well that was until that faithful afternoon. Andy and I had arrived late afternoon, mom had made a nice table with some afternoon tea and cookies. A drive that would normally had taken about an hour, depending on traffic, had ended up taking 3 hours as we had hid a snow blizzard. In April, that is! I guess it's that global warming everybody is talking about? We were happy we even made it dare, and immediately agreed to stay over night, hoping the blizzard would pass by the morning. It would be too daring to go out there again in the dark, not to mention completely idiotic. So my old room would do us good. And the thought of making out with Andy in my old bed, was kinda hot. Well, we unfortunately never got around to that.
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bothfeetinthegrave · 2 years
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Hello! I go by Rabbit or Rory (he/him), and I have returned once again from the clutches of work to write - albeit on a much smaller scale! I've been here on and off for around 10ish years, so if you've met me before it's great to see you again!
This is a blog for Eden Muir, a (slightly) vengeful spirit character developed for a D&D game set in an urban environment. Explores themes of existence after death, being someone else’s failed project, changing perspectives, learning to love yourself as you are, and learning to reconcile anger.
Go ahead and let me know if you'd like to write a thing.
I have sideblogs too! If I’ve followed you and Eden doesn’t make sense, I might have followed you with Corazón ( @belovedcorvid​ ) in mind. Or, if you’re interested in Eden’s more specific, affiliated O.ne Piece verse, follow me at @malpractising
| c a r r d | m e m e s | O P  v e r s e  | i n t e r e s t   t r a c k e r |
MUN: Rabbit
STATUS: Low Activity
ASK BOX: Open
ANON: On For Now
DISCO: ivoryrabbit ((please tell me who you are though!!))
- - - - -
Mobile Rules Under the Cut
| speed and posting style |
Anyone who’s played with me before knows that I’m the slowest guy. It can take me weeks sometimes to reply to things depending on work and my health. However, if it’s been longer than that, feel free to nudge me a little just in case I missed something.
I tend to write multi-paragraph style, with small text but otherwise minimal formatting. I use icons sometimes, but not always. If you would prefer I use normal text size / no images / etc, let me know - I can accommodate these things. If there’s art of Eden in icons, I made it. Any commissions or work by other artists will be credited as such.
| playing nice |
I’m not even sure if it’s necessary to add any more, but of course: it’s not cool to godmod, control other people’s characters, kill each other without discussing combat first, badger people for speedy replies, etc. Please be a nice human. Not interested in talking with people that are racist, anti-LGBT, etc.
| tags and content warnings |
I will always, always, always tag triggers for you, especially if you list them in your rules page. If I miss one, or if you’d like me to tag something new, shoot me a message so I can add it to my tags! Violence and other NSFW content types will always be tagged an thrown under a cut. Eden’s character has a lot of violence and body horror themes, so if those aren’t for you tread carefully.
Triggers for me: Please tag all images of broken teeth with tw:teeth or something similar. I have just about every iteration blacklisted. Additionally, please tag all content involving a/b/o threads/art/etc and, for lack of a less loaded word, ‘x humanoid character has/gets/is ‘cursed’ with x animal traits/whatever now’ threads/etc as well. I have just about every iteration of both of these blacklisted (I think). Any general a/b/o tag will work just fine; for the latter, I suggest ‘animal traits tw’ or ‘zoomorphism tw’. If you post this that’s fine, but I might not be able to follow you.
Deeply personal reasons for me as an individual and as a professional / animal advocate - For clarity: hybrid or shapeshifter characters that actively deal with their hybridity and its consequences are not the same thing. I have a problem when humans put on animal characteristics like costumes for aesthetic purposes / kink / amusement / etc.
| shipping |
Writer and character are both of age, so shipping is fine as long as the other character and writer are of age as well. I will not write with underage muns at all, full stop.
If we’ve interacted and you ship a thing, whether it be romantic or platonic, you should let me know. I probably ship it too, but tend to second guess my reading of things like that.
| asks |
Asks are neat. I try to answer them all, but again : I’m a slow guy and Tumblr eats them sometimes. If I can’t come up with a good response for what you sent me, I’ll let you know so we can do something else instead.
If I answered an ask of yours and you’d like to respond / make it a thread, that’s awesome! I just ask that you put your reply in a new thread and @ me rather than reblogging the original ask.
| memes |
I have a complicated relationship with writing games. I love them in concept and love getting to send my friends things and answer questions / draw prompts / etc, but the havoc they bring to my notes can make it impossible for me to run a blog. Please don’t reblog memes from me if you don’t follow me, or if we don’t interact - makes it too easy to lose replies when notes are a mess.
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findopulencerp · 2 years
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𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖆𝖎𝖘𝖘𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖊: day two
the kissing bridge has so much less drama than the evening before. notable occurrences include: mars brings his tiny baby to kiss everyone on the bridge, nicky and bella seemingly in a much better mood, adelita and ophelia taking off together, emerson and callie taking off together, yashica kissing ryden and being interrupted by nicky for round two, ryden licking nicky’s face, bella licking ryden’s.
please note: we have not scanned this event for trigger warnings but no drastic warnings stood out during play through to mods. no spell check has been done on this, the idea of these events is for fast group interactions, not perfect grammar or spelling. however if you have only used pronouns in a response, one will be changed to your characters name and bolded to indicate who was writing.
if you have a continuation thread, feel free to tag #opulenceevent
The light of day illuminating the Faire grounds was starkly different to the evening prior when the Faire had begun. While torches and fairy lights made way to the loud speakers and beer being passed around the day held beautiful topiaries, children running around with flags that held crests upon them, and bubbles were being blown about the place. With the scent of turkey legs and roasted corn in the air many people were browsing booths but others were making their way to the kissing bridge. Covered in pink and red streamers, paper hearts adorning the wood it was $1 to cross the bridge and get a kiss from one of those stood upon it.
Yashica stood upon the bridge, small coin purse she had been shoving dollar bills into in her hands. “Let me help you pick,” she suggested to the first person that approached.
Adelita was not one for cash - she found carrying it around in purses often just resulted in time wasted when paying for items, and she resented touching filthy coins and notes that hundreds of thousands of other people had touched. However, that evening was all for a good cause, and so the High Priestess had withdrawn some cash. "You would like to help me pick?" Adelita's deep voice was rich with warmth as she approached the younger human, her dark almond shaped eyes twinkling a little with amusement. "Who would you suggest?" she asked, curious to see who the strip club owner would suggest for a High Priestess.
"I don’t need to, I mean everyone is pretty cute,” she gestured. There were a few people from the club working as well as some volunteers. Yashica honestly wasn’t sure who she’d kiss to cross, mostly not an employee because that could be complicated. “Anyone you think is cute?”
Mars had seen the witch at the bridge while he approached and as he was still in his plague doctor get up no one could see his expression which was probably for the best but he jangled a palm full of dollar coins with baby Maria Elena being pushed along in her stroller. "We're getting a kiss from everyone," he said to both of the women but mostly directed it to Yash since she was overseeing.
It was a testament to the witch's self control that she barely battered an eyelid at the sight of her daughter and Mars. Like any stranger would, Adelita smiled at Mars - no doubt, the warmth in it being an unfamiliar sight to the man she was deliberately so cool with."Ah well, who can resist a little angel like this one" Adelita did not look at the baby she was referring to, and instead turned back to Yashica."Why don't you point me in the direction of someone who could use a little company?" she asked politely.
“You’re just throwing money around now aren’t you, going to spoil her,” Yashica smiled at the man in his costume. It was relatively easy to tell it was Mars based on the young child holding her hand out to take both of their money. “I heard that girl got into a fight with her boyfriend last night, probably needs a big kiss,” Yashica was off on what had happened with Bella but the girl was open to a kiss. “Oh and that guy performed last night, band guys are cute,” she offered, pointing to Micah. “You’re both good to get your smooches.”
"Thank yee boss lady ma'am," Mars said it in a voice lower than usual as if trying to adopt some persona to suit the guise of plague doctor and hoisted the little baby out of the stroller to support her against his chest to make it easier for those on the bridge to deliver kisses against her cheek or atop her fuzzy hair. He knew he shouldn't linger around Adelita for too long so didn't say much else directly to her and instead approached Bellamy with Maria Elena, "This little one has paid for your rosebud lips and will throw a tantrum if you deny her of them!" He proclaimed.
Adelita's smile did not waver though she felt the urge to wrench her daughter from the siren's arms, then drag him away from the kissing booth by his ear. Would she have been happy with a group of people kissing her daughter? Absolutely not! Did she have any say? No. So, Adelita nodded in her friend Bella's direction, hoping Bellamy would be the only person kissing her child's head, before she looked around and headed towards the first man she laid eyes on.
“She didn’t even need to pay,” Bella insisted, reaching out to gently tickle at the babies tummy. She had missed the young woman the night before but it seemed silly to mention that now, a little glad Mars had left before the whole show had happened.
Her blonde hair woven into small buns, Ophelia leant on the bridge, itching for a cigarette. This was a little more her style, as opposed to taking off her clothes - just winking and waving at passers-by who gawked at the selection of attractive women easy to kiss. She stood slightly at the sight of Mars but, didn't approach the few crowding around the small child who passed arms so quickly it was hard to keep track.
With her kiss quickly gifted to her by a rather large curly haired young man, Adelita made a swift exit, her dark eyes briefly lingering on the small child that had amassed such a crowd. With a heavy sigh, she strode back towards the bridge pulling out her cigarette case from her suit jacket pocket. Her cigarettes were hand rolled and contained a mixture of natural ingredients including tobacco that helped keep her stomach settled. She was just about to place a cigarette between her lips when she noticed a rather attractive blonde with an interesting hair style."Are you not treating yourself to a kiss?" Adelita asked in a friendly tone, pursing her lips around her cigarette and fishing around in her pockets for a lighter. 
"She will not be accused of stealing a kiss!" Mars proclaimed immediately, not casting a glance at the witch the passed them. "How was the rest of last night? Yash said you got into it with your boyfriend? Didn't realize you worked that fast. You'll have to tell me all about it later." He caught sight of Ophelia further along the bridge and waved at her.
“I don’t have a boyfriend but yeah, Nicky and I kind of ended up a hot fucking mess because…it doesn’t matter, we worked it out, sort of.” Bella looked over to Nicky, not wanting him to feel too poorly about what had happened. Bella wasn’t really sure it could be resolved until he spoke with Ryden however which felt rather exhausting because in her mind it shouldn’t have been his business. “I would not want to make a thief out of her though,” leaning into the young girl and placing a soft kiss on her puffy cheek.
The smell of exotic tobaccos filled Ophelia's nostrils and made that part of her brain go crazy. It would make her smell, however, and she wouldn't be able to deal with someone who was angry she tasted like nicotine, and not some dream girl. The dark-haired stranger spoke and Ophelia laughed with a shake of her head. "No. Rather, I'm waiting to be kissed," was the reply, offering out a patterned  lighter for her with ease, having one stuffed in her bra. Ophelia did catch sight again of Mars, waving back before turning her attention back
"Thank you" Adelita accepted the lighter, aware of the warmth on it's smooth surface, presumably from the blonde's body heat. She lit her cigarette, inhaling deeply as the smell of mixed herbs and nicotine billowed around her and she exhaled with relief. The Priestess handed the lighter back with an appreciative smile. "Oh, okay. I would offer you a cigarette but since you're offering kisses...?" the witch trailed off as she caught sight of the ongoing exchanged between the blonde and Mars. "But I'm sure gum would help" she ended, offering up the silver cigarette case in case Ophelia was one to smoke and kiss.
Mars sort of huffed though it was likely inaudible within his mask, "Well glad you got it sorted. Wouldn't want things to be awkward." He smiled within the mask as Bellamy placed a kiss upon his daughter's cheek and found his eyes inadvertently wandering toward the witch he was meant to be actively avoiding. "Going to pester Ophelia for a kiss next," he said to Bellamy and reached out to take his daughter back from her so he could move along the bridge.
Bella was ready to pout when he took the young girl back but allowed it to happen, waving goodbye aware the baby was too young to wave back.
From his stand point Nick watched Bella's face as she handled the small child, and found himself grinning in response. She seemed completely enamoured by the young thing, which was something Nick could relate to, he was constantly babysitting Agatha and hated to say goodbye when Rick returned home.
Had Adelita known that Ophelia was Mars' next stop she would not have stopped for a chat, or lit up a cigarette. As much as her rolled cigarettes were medicinal for her, they were hardly safe t have around a young infants lungs. If Mars did make it to Ophelia before Adelita got the blonde's response to the offer of a cigarette, the witch would have instantly put out the cigarette and made her excuses to leave.
Bella scrunched her face up in Nicky’s direction, offering him her silly face in case he had overheard her talking with Mars about the night before and thought she was still upset with him.
Ophelia wasn't paying attention to Mars, nor anybody else coming over as she happily took an offered cigarette, immediately lighting up and taking a long drag. "Holy shit, that's good," She sighed out with a smile, body relaxing ever so slightly at the rush of tobacco and whatever else the woman had mixed it. The lighter was pushed straight back into her bra, unable to resist a free ciggy despite earlier hesitations. "Thanks. Maybe someone'll be into it? The mixture of fags and bulgari," She joked.
As easy going as Mars was, the moment he saw cigarettes passing between Adelita and Ophelia he walked past them and onto the next person not wanting Maria Elena to be near any second-hand smoke.
Nick's human ears might not have been as sensitive as his wolf's ears, but they were still superior to that of a human's hearing. He had heard, but he could only shrug it off sheepishly before throwing Bella a cheeky wink. The wolf may be an ass at times, but he wasn't a proud one, and he could take a little time in the dog house if need be.
The High Priestess smiled, she enjoyed sharing her blessed cigarettes, they were a unique blend that she enjoyed mixing herself, so took a minutia of pride when someone besides herself enjoyed them."I'm glad you like it... it's a family recipe" The older woman smiles, smoking contentedly, her calm façade masking the  begrudging acknowledgement of Mars' decision to keep their daughter away from second hand smoke. It wasn't as though she didn't know Mars was a good dad, it was just finding faults in his parenting - wherever she could - made her feel the teensiest bit better about her own decision."I'm sure there will be!" Adelita chuckled, though her eyes widened slightly at Ophelia's mention of someone's preferences. "Although, I'm sure many would agree, you would be worth a little smell smoke!"
With no one to specifically miss Bella moved over to Nicky’s section of the bridge, making an attempt to slip her fingers into his own, resting her chin against his chest. “What kind of kiss can I get for $5?”
Nick grinned, and brushed her cheek affectionately, his other hand readily permitting her smooth fingers to glide between his own. "Well look at you big spender, bringing out the big bucks" he smirked down at her "I don't want to sound too easy but for a whole $5... you can get any kind of kiss, anywhere" he whispered the last part, very aware that they were in a public setting, but also not one to miss an opportunity to flirt with the snowy blonde vampire.
A family recipe? That was something Ophelia hadn't heard before. Maybe to some, cigarettes were as specialised as beer or food. Of course, she was just used to Marlboro after a night of dancing, or dining, or drinking. "Huh," was all she could say to that, taking another drag. The compliment made her smile, shaking her head. "You'd be worth it to," She was attractive, and while Ophelia may not be 100% into women, she knew beauty. "Do you have some little stall? Something odd but very quaint?" That was how she saw all this. She'd never attended a ren faire.
Adelita blinked, mildly surprised at the returned compliment, and she smiled. She couldn't remember the last time someone had complimented her in such a way - it wasn't like she had much free time to chat to people outside of work and coven business - so her cheeks warmed a little."Gracias" Adelita self consciously touched her dark hair. Her thick dark burls had been pulled into her usual low bun, a few silvery strands here and there glinting in the sunlight. "Oh, Sabor De Flores have a stall at the far end" she pointed towards the direction of where her business's little make shift stall was set up. "I wouldn't say it's odd, but we've tried to lean into the theme" the High Priestess's dark gaze flitted around the two women before returning back to Ophelia "I'm sorry, I didn't ask for your name?" she said in an apologetic tone, though she was actually a little curious.
Bella started to bend her knees when she said anywhere, pretending like she was about to kneel down in front of him before pushing up again and kissing his cheek quickly. “Maybe I’ll save my $5 for when we’re alone.”
Nick's chortled at her playful teasing, and he slipped an arm around her slender waist, pulling her to him "Probably for the best... but let's not wait too long!" he murmured into her hair, lips brushing against her ear. To an onlooker it would have looked perfectly innocent, just a guy giving a girl a kiss on the cheek, except for the slightly devilish smirk on Nick's handsome face, that is.
“It’s midday, Nick! We just started!” she objected but her laugh showed that she wasn’t actually annoyed by the suggestion. “How many kisses have you received?” Bella asked curiously.
Nick grinned wolfishly at her question. "A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell". In all honesty Nick had so far had a fair few. He seemed to have attracted a fair few of the single mothers and... one very chaste kiss from a High Priestess. Needless to say, he was having a good day.
"Norma, slow down please." The man called out as the little four year dashed for Nicholas. Before he knew it, the little girl was rushing through and cutting the lines as she made her way to her Nicky. Finally, catching up he tried apologizing to those Norma ignored. "Sorry, she really wanted to see you." Norma smiled up at Nicholas. "I'll give you a kiss for a dollar." Thad's widened. "Babe, you pay him not the other way around."
"Norma, you little rascal!" Nick, reluctantly released his grip on Bellamy so he could bend down to sweep the run away child into his arms. "How about you give me a kiss, and daddy gives me a dollar?" he counter offered, hoisting her up to sit on his his hip "What do you say daddyo? Gonna cough up for this little madam?"
Bella rolled her eyes, she’d been jealous of Elora because he’d abandoned her in favour of someone, lacked affection for her and given it to someone else, she didn’t care if he kissed strangers for charity on a bridge. “You’re actually no fun.” Bella easily stepped back as Norma approached though, chuckling loudly when she demanded affection from Nicky.
She looked over to where the stranger mentioned, trying to see if she could see the stall itself- shouldn't be too hard with the flowers. Ophelia couldn't discern it however through the crowds, the faire busier than she expected it to be. "You're a florist?" She liked fresh flowers. It was something her ex husband had insisted on weekly for the dining area, and something she had agreed on. The only thing, probably. "That's the spirit," She wasn't to theme herself but, she had at least tried a little. "I'm Ophelia Spaulding," The surname was purposeful - maybe this woman knew her brother. "Nice to meet you,"
Norma placed her arms around Nicholas. She smirked and crinkled her nose. "Here you go man." Thad said as he reached into his wallet and got the cash out to give to him. "Hey Bella," he smiled. "What are you guys up to today?"
“You’re looking at it,” Bellamy gestured, figuring she should leave Nicky to it and go back to her place, give Norma whatever interaction she was after. “Maybe tomorrow I’ll get a chance to roam around,” she mused, letting her fingers flutter as she stepped away. “Don’t let her spend too much on him.”
Adelita's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the blonde's guess at her being a Flores, though she was impressed the woman had caught onto the meaning of her second name.  "You speak Spanish?" she asked "But, no. Sabor De Flores is my tequila bar and distillery. We enjoy a little green magic there, but not to the extent of some of the town's talented florists!" Adelita was a firm believer that any warm blooded could subtly tap into elemental magic, even if it was only to a tiny degree. "You should come, sample some tequila one day" Adelita suggested, concerned that a town member did not yet know of her bar, and not entirely averse to seeing the blonde again."Spaulding..." Adelita repeated as she took another deep drag on her cigarette. It clicked only when she exhaled the sweet scented smoke from her nostrils. "I'm Adelita, High Priestess of Helka's Own... and I do believe I know a relative of yours... Younger man called Thaddeus? Shy, single father?"
Nick grinned and gave Norma's cheek a loud kiss that resulted in her squealing and giggling. "Hey man, what's up!" Nick nodded at Thaddy. As Bella made to leave, Nick reached out to give her fingertips a squeeze before letting her withdraw. "Where did you get to last night?" Nick asked his friend, allowing Norma to comb through his curls idly.
"Bye Bella, I'll talk to you soon. I know Norma was hoping for a girl's day if you're available." Thad smiled. Norma blew a kiss towards the vampire before kissing Nicholas on the cheek. "Not a lot, just roaming around with Norma and going to the different booths and all. She insisted on seeing you. Last night, I had to take a few things over to Norma's sleepover. First time she did well on her own."
"Oh my god, a sleep over!" Nick exhaled dramatically, giving Norma a shocked look "When did you get so grown up and mature?! Are those wrinkles I see?" he teased Norma before looking back at Thaddy "But how did YOU do Thaddy-Daddy?" he asked curiously. "I've heard it's really stressful for a parent, their little one's first night away at a friends and all that?"
Norma nodded, "yeah it was with my friends." The little one said a bright smile. "I'm not old yet, you're old." She told him. Thaddeus looked over at his daughter. "It isn't nice to call people old." He told her. He shrugged, "well it isn't her first sleepover. It is her first one that lasted all night. But regardless it is stressful, always worrying. How are things with you? I saw Bella just now. Things going well? Bella said y'all are kind of together I guess."
Nick snorted at the audacity before his booming laughter could be heard across the kissing booth. "Norma! I'm so offended that you noticed!" Nick pouted at the child, but there was no mistaking the mirth in his eyes. At Thaddys' questions, Nick glanced over at Bellamy before answering. "I don't know... I hope so?" He said looking uncharacteristically not cock sure of himself. "But you know how good I am at screwing up a perfectly good thing..." Nick grimaced.
"Ah, not much. I used to study politics and it helps knowing languages but I just guessed. Flores sounds like flowers," the blonde shrugged easily, letting another cloud of smoke leave her glossy lips. "I can speak mandarin," Ophelia hadn't spoke it in a while though after being somewhat forced to leave university. "Tequila bar? Sounds right up my alley. I bet you make a mean margarita," To be fair, she didn't really get out much, trying to keep a low profile in regards to moving around the town. The ren faire had been probably the most out of the apartment she'd been since coming into the town. A tequila tasting session with a new friend could be just what she needed. "I'd love to come by," "High Priestess? I'm guessing that's a...Big deal?" In truth, Opehlia had little dealings with the towns more supernatural side. Many of them made her uncomfortable - vampires and werewolves were odd and they frightened her. Sirens she knew from the club and her niece was fae, they seemed safe options.  And she knew Thaddeus! Her dark eyes lit up at the mention of her older brother. "That sounds like Thad," She joked, warmth in her voice. "Yeah, he's my big brother. I've always been the one in charge though,"
Norma pressed her forehead against Nicholas and smiled widely. "You're still cute." When Nicholas spoke to Thaddeus, he looked at him with a quizzical brow. "Did something happen? Everything okay? Anything I can do for you two?" He questioned. "Nick, you're a good guy. Probably one of the best people I know. I'm sure whatever is going on, you'll fix it."
Bella watched Nicky and Thad talk, her hearing was good but not as good as a wolves so had no idea what was being said, rather waiting for someone to approach as she watched Norma putting her sweet head against Nicky’s. She was so sweet, as was Mars’ little one. Why did the town even have adults?
"Aah you're a politician?" Adelita's eyes shone with curiosity. The witch had been to college herself. Due to her status as third child, Adelita had had no claim to the title she now possessed, and so she had studied the local university. She too had studied politics and public affairs, and she was always intrigued to see what other types of creatures chose to study it. "A politician and proficient in languages... May I ask what it is that you do?" At the comment on Adelita's cocktail making skills, the witch only chuckled and smiled wryly at Ophelia."I hate to be that stereotype... but yes, I do make a mean margherita!".Having already gone through a similar conversation with her brother, Adelita was not so caught off guard by Ophelia not knowing what her position meat, so she just shrugged nonchalantly."Only to a select few people... yes, I don't doubt that you are often the one in charge" Adelita's shrewd gaze raked over the pretty blonde, who was beginning to truly pique the witch's interest. Who was this creature, and why was this the first time Adelita had heard of her?
Nick grinned and thanked Norma "So are you, trouble!" he gave her a little wink and then grimaced at Thaddeus's kind words. Honestly, he adored the man, and was very relieved Thaddeus' hadn't seen his slightly inebriated episode the night before, but he was also desperate to tell him all the details. There was something very cathartic about confession his sins to the single dad. "Nah, but thanks buddy" Nick patted Thaddeus's upper arm and gave it a friendly squeeze as as if to drive home the point that he appreciated the offer. "You have too much faith in me! I hope you're right! But speaking of women.... how did that date go?" Nick asked suddenly looked excited.
Ah. The questions of what she did were not wholly welcome - she thought maybe being part of the kissing bridge would've answered such a question. Apparently not and Ophelia tipped some ash off the end nonchalantly. "Not exactly," She had the ambition of one though, to do what her father did because it was one of the few things. "I'm...a dancer," There was an implication there but, she didn't wish to say it out loud. Ophelia wasn't particularly proud or comfortable with what she did...not yet. "Girl power, right?" was her reply around a laugh to Adelita's light explanation of what a high priestess was.
Now that Ryden didn’t have a whole part of the event to manage, one that involved running an entire tavern that handed out drinks to pumped up party goers after an electric musical performance, it was an entirely different mood for him, one that even had him grinning from time to time. The stress of an obligation and effort put into everything going smoothly was gone and at least for this part of the day, he got to enjoy the faire as just a random visitor. He even opted out of dropping by in any sort of a theme-appropriate outfit, strolling around in his trademark leather jacket, at his most comfortable. Visiting the kissing bridge mostly because he knew Bella, Nick and Yash would be there, the first person to catch his eyes was the High Priestess, simply because that was the side he was approaching from. “Priestess.” He greeted, a sharp smirk in place. To the unfamiliar blonde woman speaking to her he just offered a casual nod of greeting. “Sorry if I interrupt, jus’ thought t’say hi in the passing.”
“Hey! Tattoos don’t give you the right to cross without paying!” Yashica scolded Ryden, observing the priestess and the blonde. Ophelia seemed more at ease here than in the club but people still needed to be paying.
 “Whoops.” Ryden made a face like a kid getting caught skipping school by his mom, although he hadn’t actually done this with the intention not to pay. It was just that no one approached him to tell him how this was supposed to be working and he had failed to inquire around. Sticking his hand into his pocket, he came up with a slightly crumpled five dollar bill. “This good?” He asked Yashica with a shrug.
Yash was simply standing by the bridge, clocking people as they passed but since she was one person it was easy for people not to see her while she was helping another. Besides, she hadn’t actually been upset with him, the scolding was meant to be playful. “You get five kisses with this, don’t spend them all in one place. Unless you really want to.”
"Oh, so you're a dancer at Supernaturals?" Adelita surmised. She was aware that a majority of the creatures working the kissing booth were performers - which was a big reason as to why she had selected a doctor to kiss instead. It wasn't that Adelita disliked dancers, it just seemed that she seemed to be drawn to them, and the last thing she needed was another slip up on her part. "Hmm, si, right" she murmured, flicking the ash off of her cigarette. Just as she was about to make her excuses and withdraw from the terribly intriguing performer, she heard Ryden's greeting. Adelita turned her head to bestow upon Ryden a warm smile, a little wryness to it that she reserved only for those she knew well and appreciated. For all their differences, Ryden had earned her respect over the years, and she knew he felt the same way. Midnight dips aside, respect was paramount to their allyship. "Ryden" she nodded in greeting before her attention was then snatched up by the human club owner. The witch chuckled, her gaze surveying the rather odd but interesting mix of creatures she found herself amongst. "Oh Ryden" she shook her head at his rather sad looking crumpled five dollar bill, but it was only a teasing head shake, rather than a condescending one.
“I’m a lucky bloke.” Ryden grinned widely at Yash, a completely different vibe to him than last night, his smile chill and lopsided, shoulders hunching comfortably although that did nothing to diminish his intimidatingly hulking form. He handed over the money, giving Yash a little wink. “Sorry, I’m out of coins.” That was meant to bring back some memories of when they played a drinking game at the Den some days ago. He shrugged at Adelita then, modestly careless about material things. “It’s still money, same worth.” His next glance was directed at the somewhat familiar looking blonde woman the Priestess had been talking to. He was pretty certain that he'd seen her at the Supernaturals, but they never interacted. "Hey. I'm Ryden." He offered simply, his usual quirked smirk following it, checking to see if she was up for a handshake. If it seemed so, he would offer it.
Shoving the money in the coin purse she had Yashica’s cheeks turned a deep peach shade, still embarrassed they’d had to cut their game short because she’d become so drunk so quickly. “Yeah, well, you shouldn’t give away lucky coins anyway.”
 “Nah, was totally worth it. I had a good time.” Ryden’s grin widened, the wolf enjoying Yashica’s lovely blush. “Can I redeem my five dollars with you too or are ya just a banker?”
Adelita caught sight of the human's flushed cheeks and watched the subsequent interaction between the two with well disguised interest. She looked the very model of innocence, but she was very much absorbing everything about their interaction; Yashica's blush, Ryden's flirtatious request, Adelita's dark eyes never missed a beat.
Yashica hadn’t said she wouldn’t do it but technically her name wasn’t on the list… The young woman, golden choker around her throat feeling suddenly tight tried to cool the redness of her cheeks. “You shouldn’t redeem the whole $5 with me, a kiss is only a $1 but yeah, you can.”
"Yep." It was a clipped reply, betraying her feelings.The woman was about to elaborate further when someone interrupted, a tall and heavy tattooed man who obviously knew Adelita and vice versa. Ophelia tried not to grimace slightly at his awful accent, watching him interact with her manager and it made her wonder - did everyone know everybody? It was hard to be a stranger in a sea of faces who knew eachother. She'd hedge a bet on majority of them fucking to. "Ophelia," She offered back, stubbing out her cigarette with the intention to leave - or at least go find something else to do. It felt as if she was intruding on something she shouldn't be.
Adelita felt a small smile tugging at the edge of her lips and she turned to look directly at Ophelia, in a show of giving the two some privacy. "So dancing... does that have much politics in it?" she asked widening her eyes at Ophelia and nodding in the opposite direction, as if to suggest they take a stroll. "Tell me about it over tequila?" she prompted smoothly
Ryden nodded at the blonde woman's offer of a name but not anything else and just rolled with it, his attention switching almost entirely on Yash now. “Aww. A’ight. One, then.” He wasn’t too upset with that friendly advice though, totally fine with going with the flow. He might not even get to redeeming all five of the kisses he paid for, that was a lot of kisses to manage in a short time. “So, you give it to me? That’s how it works?” Even as he asked, he turned his head to expose his smoothly shaven cheek to her, leaning in to shorten the difference in height between them.
Yashica looked to the others who were on the bridge, decorations billowing in the summer wind - she hoped she wasn’t sweating, that the wind was minimizing it - and when she looked back to him saw he had exposed his jaw to her in questioning. Yashica’s hand came up, the woman needing to push onto her toes a little still, and placed her index and middle fingers prints against the opposing side of his jaw, gold tips of her nails reflecting in the sun as she turned his jaw downward, leaning up, with lips slightly soft from tinted peach balm, to place a kiss on his actual lips, aware he could move and leave her to land upon his jaw as he originally offered. (edited)
"In a sense. I probably make some long winded and convoluted metaphor about power dynamics in politics and in dancing but honestly? I just want the tequila," Ophelia said around a half smile as the man - Ryden - busied himself with talking to Yash. The suggestive nod was noted and she began to stroll with Adelita. There were enough people at the bridge for kisses, she wouldn't be missed after all. "My father's in politics. Easy to follow in footsteps when nepotism is on your side,"
Adelita smiled at Ophelia's words, a breathy chuckle escaping her lips. As the two strolled away, Adelita continued to smoke and stroll at a leisurely pace. The Sabor De Flores stall wasn't far, and she was in no rush. "Oh..." The witch said quietly, but if the blonde had glanced at her face she would have seen the surprise there. It wasn't often that those who benefitted, or could benefit from nepotism actually talked about it. Hell, it was a dirty little secret the entire Flores family guarded. Most of her cousins and extended family had maintained esteemed positions in the coven for years, simply due to their blood ties. Adelita herself had benefitted from it. "Not so easy to walk away from that kind of nepotism either..." the witch noted sombrely, her dark eyes sliding back to scrutinise the blonde's face.
 Ryden had been smirking, never assuming that Yash actually had it in her to do what she'd done next, so it had totally taken him by surprise. First, soft fingertips could be felt against his jaw and then they pushed, adjusting him to lean his head in for an altogether different kind of a kiss. Eyes going slightly wide, he let it happen, more out of pleasant surprise than anything else. His grin retreated to accommodate the meeting of lips, eyelids dropping a little to indicate that he was now smirking inwardly, feeling like a punk who'd stolen something he didn't quite deserve just because he was a little ruggedly charming. But the taste of her peach balm was quite sweet, and to reciprocate, he brought with him a pine-fresh mix of wood, leather and cinnamon, all undertones of his cologne. He stayed there, bent over a little, his lips catching Yash's bottom one very loosely for as long as she decided to keep hers against him.
Yashica wanted to open her lips, he smelled like pine and cinnamon and the leather he usually wore over his shoulders, she wanted to see if his tongue tasted like that same cinnamon or if he maybe tasted like beer or food or even toothpaste but nerves were strong and she was barely able to believe she had moved his jaw to actually kiss him, this large, sweet man that was both somehow too reckless and far too caring to really show someone as plain as her the time of day. So while her lips did start to part, she deepened it only so much as she adjusted her lips to fit better against his before drawing herself away. That warmth in her cheeks remained but now it showed in the way her chest rose and the way her breathing had become hard. “One kiss down, four more…four more to go,” she tried to laugh but it caught in her throat. “I’m sure uh - I’m sure Nicky wants one from his alpha.”
Ryden wasn't nearly as moved as she was, a cool cucumber but nevertheless infinitely interested in seeing what she'd do next. So he stayed still, waiting almost motionless as if any sudden little move would scare her off, handing all the decision-making over to her. Too bad he did, because she decided to move away, leaving him with a lingering chaste warmth and a hint of peach-flavored balm on his lips. They instantly pulled their corners apart wide when released, a shit-eating grin of a boy who'd gotten candy before dinner. "I reckon I shouldn't be askin' for that kind o'kiss from anyone else, huh?"
Yashica chuckled at his question, happy that even if it was just a plain no nonsense kiss for him he was pleased with it. “I’m pretty sure Bella and Nicky have been practically shoving their tongues down the throats of anyone who approaches them so honestly that kiss was a bit tame, round two?” She joked. Ryden may not have felt her nerves but Yashica was glad for them, it meant she was getting over Matty.
Once Nick and Thaddy and Norma had made their goodbyes, Nick had sensed his Alpha's prescience almost as quickly as he arrived o  scene. Call it pack mentality, or maybe a guilty mentality, either way Nick's eyes found Ryden immediately. He was more nervous than he logically knew he should be, but logic in the face of betraying his brethren... Even from a distance, Nick could see a strange cluster of creatures coming together on the bridge, before the witch and fae dancer took their leave, and Ryden and Yash apparently used the opportunity to ... donate to a good cause? Despite his anxiety at eventually telling his pack leader everything, when the two separated Nick couldn't help but whoop in true Nick fashion; loudly and without restraint.
“Pfff, figures.” He snorted, because yes, he could totally see both of his friends doing just that – being chaotically kissable during an event where good vibes just exploded and clouded some good judgment. But Bellamy was his best friend, a sister he never had and Nicky was, well, his closest advisor and a good mate. Kissing Yashica had outweighed kissing either of the two by FAR. So when she joked about round two, Ry's eyelids dropped and a sharp canine tugged at his bottom lip before he lowered his deep baritone for an octave or two, softening it just for her to hear. "Don't mind, cause I will. Got a second dollar to spend." This time he reached up, a thumb and his forefinger gently pinching her chin to steer her to look up, the wolf leaning in slowly, building up the tension in all the right ways. However, that was when the man they'd mentioned mere seconds ago decided to just barge in without reading the fucking mood first. Ryden paused, frozen for a split second, his eyebrow twitching in annoyance. He turned to give his packmate a deadpan expression that clearly read 'why bro, why?'
Nick caught sight of his alpha's expression and snorted, unable to contain his amusement. He of course had not intended to cock block, he was just cheering his buddy on... just at the wrong time. Still Nick grinned and gave him an innocent expression.
Yashica’s eyes went wide as Ryden’s thumb and forefinger pinched at her chin, full and focused before she realized he was actually going to kiss her again and she started to close them. It was Nicky’s presence that stopped things however and Yash was left with Ryden’s fingers on her jaw, not quite stepping back but ready to if he let her go.
 Oh, that little fucker… Ryden’s eyes narrowed viciously at that innocent expression Nick had given him, hand dropping from Yash’s chin, the nice little mood they had going on now ruined, at least for him. “Sorry.” He muttered to her, then turned towards Nicky, his sharp grin absolutely evil. “You. Yeah, you. C’mere.” He raised a hand, beckoning Nicky over, but he was already walking towards him, all square shoulders and intimidating posture. But there was a playfulness to his stride, one that was a clear indicator that Ryden wasn’t about to beat the crap out of Nicky, not at all, but maybe do something else even more unimaginable and terrifying.
Yashica knew there was a reason Matty had been her Baudelaire crush and not Nicky, cheeks still red she brushes off disappointment and went back to taking peoples money.
Oh shit Nick's final thoughts before he leapt over the kissing booth he was stationed at and swaggered right over to his alpha. If the boy was going down, he was going to go down looking good. At least, that was Nick's mentality, as he waltzed over to Ryden, his sheepish grin indicating he was both aware of an oncoming  assault and devilishly excited. As Ryden squared his shoulders, Nick did the same, arrogantly tossing a dark curl from between his eyes, looking every bit the shit stirrer he could sometimes be.
 It was a stare down, the two standing mere couple of feet away from each other, one naughty and the other not amused about it. Ry's hands were in his pockets, a slight curl of disapproval to his lips, making his nose scrunch, the little height difference between them now obvious, making Ryden have to tilt his chin upward slightly to look his second in commend in the eye. To a random bystander, it might seem like punches were about to be thrown. And Ryden's hand did shoot forward with incredible speed, firm grip taking ahold of the back of Nicky's neck and pulling him down to close the distance. What the taller man got for his behavior was a disgustingly slobbering wet lick right across his cheek before Ryden let go, the alpha barking out a loud lough because he bet that no one had expected this. "Whistledick." He spat out then gave the man a playful punch to the shoulder, stepping away to leave him to deal with the trail of drool he left on his cheek, huffing indignantly and moving off to say hi to Bella.
Bella never interfered with Kemper and Ryden as wolf and alpha and she did not intend to intervene then. Besides, Ryden - in her mind - was a big and playful dog. Sure, he was a Doberman but he still wanted pats and treats and to be cared for, so Nicky was simply in no danger in her mind “Whistledick?” Bella asked as she stood in her section of the bridge.
Sure, to a prouder man, being humiliated like this, in front of everyone, in front of the woman he loved, would have been an insult too sore to stand. But Nicholas was not a particularly proud man, especially when it came to his alpha, and his pack. The wolf barely had a moment to respond, from the moment Nick's throat was in Ryden's hand, his face was then being assaulted by a grievously slobbery tongue. Yes, there had been the occasional fantasy that included Ryden, but this was not the one, not remotely close to the one. "Eurgh" Nick yelped, revolted by the assault, but also shaking with laughter raucous laughter. "How long you been wanting to do that?" He leered back jokingly, staggering back and wiping his face on the sleeve of his shirt. "That's the brits for yah!" Nick parodied Ryden's English accent poorly. "Revol'in" . Nick was still chortling, when he heard Bella's repetition of Ryden's insult. Still grinning, Nick opened his mouth to crack a joke then snapped his mouth shut. Time and a place...
 “Yah. That wha’ he is.” Ryden said, grin as happy as a pig in a blanket because of his shenanigans. However, just then, as he smacked his lips and wiped a bit of drool that had pooled in the corner of his mouth with the back of his wrist, he thought he’d smelled rather than tasted… something odd – and it stopped him from responding to Nick’s protests and teasing. He paused mid-approach to Bella, turning his head ever so slightly back in Nick’s direction, nostrils flaring as he took in a quick sniff. Then slowly, ever so slowly, he directed his nose towards where Bella stood, taking a similar sniff that direction too. Huh. It was visible on his expression that cogs had started turning but they were tripping over something, like things didn't quite add up. He shrugged then, and continued coming closer to his babydoll, a happy smirk back on his face while a hand rose to flip Nick off with an insulting finger peeking over his shoulder.
Bella did not take much note of the express across his face. Nicky was the one concerned with his alpha, with the pack thinking he’d been a man on the sidelines waiting for Bella to open up for a good game again. “I’m sure you’ll get a chance to snog her again,” she teased him, big grin on her face. “I’ve been kissing everyone, ever the other people signed up to do kisses. Some guy even gave me $50 to smell my hair,” she announced, prouder than she should have been. “So you can always go back when it’s dark…unless you want a kiss from me too, puppy?”
 “Shh, don’t, she a good girl, lets spare her our wickedness.” Ryden’s grin widened even further if it were possible, turning Cheshire. "What? Ew. The world is a weird place." He made a face, but not about Bella's hair but rather the creep who'd paid fifty just to smell it. Having approached her fully by now, he leaned down so she could reach him. "Yesssss." He offered his cheek and if his tail were out, it would be wagging.
For a moment, it appeared like Nick's opportunity to get ahead of the story had passed him, but Ryden's nonchalant attitude seemed to indicate to Nick that either he didn't know, or he didn't care. And it was unwise to assume either, so Nick kept quiet and simply swaggered back to where he had originally been stationed. "Wait what?" Nick blurted out, shocked that he had missed that transaction take place, a little bit amused at the thought of it, and just a smidge territorial. If anyone was going to be sniffing Bella's hair, it was him. Nick huffed just loudly enough so that Bella might overhear, but he was smirking.
Bella placed a cool hand on Ryden’s chest, tenderly touching his muscles with the prints of her fingers, big golden eyes on his cheek. For all intents and purposes it probably seemed like she might do as Yashica had done and pull Ryden into a full kiss, hell a deeper one that Yashica’s mind could fathom. Maybe it was a bit of a desire in her that Nicky feel the concern she had when Elora had toyed with him in front of her, wanting to prove to Nicky when he’d laughed at the idea of becoming jealous over her he’d been very very wrong. “Well if we’re sparing her meaning you’ll have to suffer, I should make it up to you, puppy,” she mused, slowly pushing up on her toes, leaning to his lips and…her tongue came out and ran up the side of his cheek the way his own had done to Nicky’s face. Wicked smile upon her face. “You liked that, didn’t you? Sick freak,” Bellamy giggled before Ryden.
 This should have come as a surprise but it actually didn't, the petite blonde and the tall tattooed wolf two peas in a pod much more than anyone else could assume. Ryden cackled lowly as he felt her tongue run over his sharp jawline and cheek, letting out a low, rolling growl at her words. "Damn right I did, lemme smell yer hair baby." His strong arm snaked around her waist, giving the tender spot below her ribcage a little playful pinching tickle as he nuzzled against her loose strands, taking in a deep sniff, mockingly playing a perv. 
Though Nick could be dense at times, the irony of their current predicament was not lost on him. Just the day before Bella had felt insecure over an interaction that had been nothing more than friendly, now he was being forced to stand and watch Bella with his alpha in a situation that... regardless of their friendship was involving a god damned kiss. Unable to not watch from his booth, Nick kept one eye on Bellamy, hardly giving a second thought to control his heart rate and breathing, the way he was usually so skilled at. He wasn't jealous. He wasn't jealous. Or so he kept telling himself. The crashing wave of relief at Bellamy's choice to lick instead of kiss should have been an indicator that he was lying to himself and poorly at that. But Nick was the king of self denial.Even when Ryden slipped his arms around Bella's waist and playfully played the part of the creep, Nick felt relieved. They were just friends, he had nothing to worry about... right? Right...
“Where’s my money?” Bellamy joked, as his arm came around her waist. This, at least, didn’t feel like she was overstepping because Nicky knew Ryden was like her brother, what was a little hug and a tickle? “You can’t sniff before you buy,” she objected but remained in his arms with his nose in her throat.
 "Aww, shit, I'm poor, you know that." Ryden whined, a total 180 with someone he was as comfortable and familiar with as Bella, as opposed to against someone he barely knew. Sighing wretchedly, he released her, but not before delivering a brotherly kiss to her temple, the smack of lips loud and affectionate.  Wide grin in place, he caught Nick being all fidgety in her corner. "Wha'choo lookin' so constipated for? Smile, mate. No one's gunna want to kiss ya. It's already bad enough they gotta pay."
Nick rolled his eyes at Ryden's taunting, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips but said nothing. It was kind of one of those rare moments where two of his favourite people were in  the same vicinity just having a laugh and being stupid. It was exactly the kind of pack behaviour that made Nick think Bellamy would have made an excellent wolf. She was just... so like them. "Okaymate" Nick said finally, dragging out the enunciation of the word mate. "You sticking around for a bit or what?" He was asking, of course because he wanted to grab a moment of his alpha's time before the evening was out.
Bella smirked a little, part of her wanting to tell Ryden she’d kissed Nicky, if only to watch Nicky freak out but after how Nicky had behaved last night, and the conclusion she had drawn about him she didn’t want to chance that. “Go and hang out with your second, I’ve got a line of people waiting for my big Bratz doll lips.”
 "Aw shit, actually I can't, I got an arm wrestlin' booth t'set up later, so gotta go home and change for it real quick." He gave the two an apologetic look. "Drop by it when ya finish up 'ere, kay?" Ryden said that to Nicky, giving him a little wave goodbye and to Bella he delivered another kiss to the top of her head. "If they git handsy, knee up, aim low. Love ya." With that, he turned to stroll out, broad shoulders clad in leather retreating through the crowd
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doskorogorpg · 7 months
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CONGRATULATIONS LU!
YOU HAVE BEEN ACCEPTED FOR THE ROLE OF OCTAVIA KAVERIN.
Welcome to Do Skorogo RPG! Please make sure you scan over the CHECKLIST, send in your account to the main in the next 24 hours, and follow everyone on the FOLLOW LIST. Octavia's faceclaim has been changed to Alba Baptista.
.♦ PART I — OUT OF CHARACTER..
NAME & AGE & PRONOUNS:
lu & 28 & she/they
TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL:
gmt & around 6 i’d say? i’m going back to uni and i have to work part time to pay for it so sometimes i’ll come back home and be a bit mentally exhausted. that being said, i will be on to chat and plot but might only get to replies every few days! 
ANYTHING ELSE? 
triggers removed.
..♦ PART II — IN CHARACTER..
DESIRED ROLE:
octavia ivanova kaverin
i am a sucker for the “keeping their distance because of past hurt” trope so the first few lines already had me hooked. i reckon there’s a daily battle inside of octavia that she has to live through and, according to her own heart / mind, keep to herself. i’ll explore more of her thoughts / feelings on that whole thing but a character with an inner turmoil, a lot of hurt and, essentially, family-less? that’s my shit.
i also love the character dichotomy that comes from octavia protecting herself, at least emotionally. she’s beguiling and hard to not want to get to know but she’s also the first one to leave the moment there’s a connection deeper than she anticipated. her smile is warm but always shallow ( not that people notice it because, even if she tries to keep her distance, whenever she smiles, it’s genuine ), her conversations can be deep but she manages to never share too much about herself. what she shows and what she truly feels / thinks are two very different things  and octavia is so used to masking her “true self” that she’s not quite sure she’ll be fully able to find it, after so many years.
last but not least, i like the strength that she shows by still trying to let people in after everything she’s been through. she’s terrified and she’s still very much hesitant to take that leap of faith without knowing if there’s anything / anyone to catch her when she gets to the bottom. that being said, it’s not an ease feat for her. there’s years and years of walls to get through and that’s what makes her even stronger than people might give her credit for.
FACECLAIM:
alba baptista
GENDER & SEXUALITY:
cis woman & bisexual
HEADCANONS:
THE FAMILY: there’s a secret, self-sown pocket inside octavia’s every jacket where she keeps one of the portrait drawings she has of her family ( with a small addendum on the back, a portrait of her best friend ): her father, ivan, her mother,  galina, and her brother, pyotr. her best friend, alina, was an unofficial part of that family when her own often forgot about her ( the second youngest of six children ).
THE BROTHER: although she was close with all of her family, it was her brother that she was the closest to. they were “irish twins”, him being the oldest one. they did everything together, learned everything together, conquered and failed at things together. it was with him that she found out her powers, it was with him she explored the surroundings of their humble house and it was with him that she found and learned archery. she took to it like a fish to water and, for a moment, pyotr was even jealous. 
THE BOW & ARROWS: octavia always uses the same bow, something she’s worked on for years, perfected it so it feets her hand perfectly, so the weight of it feels more of an extension of herself rather than a weapon she chooses to carry. it’s shade is on the darker side and it matches the finger tab and bracer that she never takes off. her arrows are always done by her, as well, and they range from normal, sharp arrows to poisonous and explosive ones, depending on whether or not she wants there to be any noise made. the only thing that octavia has not done by her hands is the quiver, though she’s made sure to alter it so it better fits her reach and the way she wears it.
HER PLACE IN THE ARGUN FOREST: when she found the forest in argun, octavia spent hours in it, forgetting to go back to her place time after time because it brought a sense of piece that the hustle and bustle of argun could not. and even in her favourite place, there is a part of it that octavia prizes: a clearing composed by bed of white flowers and sprinkled with oleanders, far too deep in the forest to be found by the occasional wanderer. she found it a few weeks after coming across the forest and it’s where she spends most of her time whenever she’s not shooting. 
OLEANDER: octavia knows what oleander is, she knows what it’s capable of if used against someone and she is fascinated by it. a deadliness hidden by natural beauty and the potential lies in wait and she keeps them as a reminder of it. most of the time, she carries some with her, plays with a bud of it whenever she’s lost in thought. 
PLOT POINTS:
HEART VS. HEAD / PASSION VS. PAIN | “She was never meant to be a permanent figure in anyone’s life anymore. But she can only avoid so much for so long.” 
not long ago, octavia couldn’t remember the last time where she felt part of anyone else’s life. she could not remember what it felt like to be irreplaceable, to feel as if losing her might come close to feeling like she felt when she lost her family. now, she is starting to let go of that hard line she’d drawn between herself and that part of her that she’d buried underneath years and years of painful memories and fear. a fear so overwhelming that, along with keeping her heart safe, it also kept her from experiencing anything good. now, she has nastia, she has sasha, she has people that are making her reconsider letting both passion and hurt in, once again. still, there is hesitance, a sort of comfort in the known that is a lack of pain in her life, so much so that octavia still considers leaving all the good out just to have that safety. to live through that inner battle, to feel yourself let go one second to pulling yourself back the next, to reconsider all of it right after… it’s a silent battle that octavia goes through each day ( heart vs. head, lifted up by passion vs consumed by pain ) and i want to see which party ends up winning on each interaction set before her.  
MINE IS THE FURY, FUELED BY THE PAIN | “She wanted to feel something, anything, again and hurt the one who hurt those she loved most. She would have all those men feel as she had when they took everything from her.”
octavia doesn’t know what it feels like to be passionate about anything anymore. it’s been so long that octavia cannot remember what it feels like to let any emotion in, to let it consume her because, by avoiding the pain, she avoided everything else, including those that would make the bad days worth it. however, these lines shows that underneath that apathetic existence towards so much around her, there is something that bubbles underneath and it’s surfacing more and more each day, especially when surrounded by people that share that common goal ( whether it was given to them by having something or someone taken from them or a sense of injustice that fuels them even through the most dangerous of situations ). it’s clear there is more to octavia than that passive rebel that seemingly doesn’t have what it takes to see this through and i cannot wait to see that last straw and what it could actually be, to have that last push so she jumps off that safety cliff and just lets go. i want to see her embrace the good, the bad and the angry, i want to see octavia take that hurt and use it as fuel for her more than earned fury. i want her to prove everyone wrong, including herself. i want her to be as explosive and deadly as the arrows she so expertly makes. i’m sure that someone can already see that behind her eyes but it’s a step that she’s not ready to take. yet. 😏
LESSON IN REVENGE, I WILL TAKE IT | “But she will never be as motivated as Sofiya or him.”
long story short, i want octavia to prove igor wrong. right now, octavia might even agree with this sentiment, looking at herself in the mirror and seeing but a shell of a person, someone with a sharp eye and keen sense of when to poison and when to explode but no idea of what lies inside of her chest. right now, igor is right. she will not be as motivated because she does not allow herself to feel it but once she does take that step, once she lets herself feel everything, from love to pain, octavia will be someone to watch out for, especially being an alkemi that can easily match the explosiveness and deadliness of the arrows that she so expertly crafts. it will take a bit, i reckon, and it will probably be a challenge but i could see octavia damning the apathy and using what she’s lost as a way for her and those that feel exactly like her to finally gain something and if she can face the men that took everything from her? they will wish for a quick death and they will not be awarded such. though, right now, she will stick to watching and listening, sticking to the shadows and feeling at home in them.
CHARACTER EXPANSION: 
HOW FAR WOULD YOU GO FOR YOUR CREW? 
octavia is out of her element in this bar. the crowded surroundings, the overlapping chatter, the passing unknown faces, each with its own particular history, each with fears and dreams — she has to wonder how many of them she would kin, in one way or another, and how many she would have a hard time trying to understand from her place in the shadows. this is not the forest but she tries to weave through the overwhelming noises to focus on what her company asks. it’s a question she’s not asked herself and perhaps she should have, but her version would be different, she reckons. it would pull more from her, make her think more about the way she views the ones around her that share a goal that she’s not yet conformed to. 
what they’re asking is easy to answer and she merely shifts in her seat to face them, a casual tone slipping from her lips. “as far as it’s needed, i suppose.” it’s an answer that might surprise many, her lack of explosive passion the only thing they seem to grasp, an alkemi content with what’s been taken. octavia isn’t in the habit of lying, though, and what she says is what she thinks. she will hit a target between the eyes and not let the reality of it steal sleep from her ( a life taken, blood tainting the fertile ground of a forest she adores ). how far she would let the crew in, though, that’s the question they should have asked if they wanted an answer that was deeper than a small pond. 
firing an arrow into someone that she’s told deserves it is far easier than letting someone see her battered, beating heart. 
octavia tilts her head, moments going into the way she meets the other’s expression lines. “how far would you go?” curiosity is genuine but redirection is a habit she’s acquired after sharing just enough that people think they have something of her that is significant.
WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF YOU GOT YOUR HANDS ON THE CIRCLET? 
the hidden fury inside of octavia gets one moment of life at the front of her mind ( how poetic it would be to use it on the people he’s controlled and end up being his demise, an end fitting for what he’s done ) but it’s short-lived, a momentary weakness in the wall build around that part of herself that, if she let roam, would bring with it a plethora of emotions that octavia laments. now, that part of her is back in its place, beating and scratching at the walls, screaming at her to let it in. the lonely darkness ( and grief ) she’s grown comfortable in, however, shouts louder than anything else ( even the warmth it could easily be overpowered by ).
for a heartbeat, octavia almost wishes it weren’t so.
she doubts the question is to be taken literally, but it’s a much easier answer. “i never really thought about it, it just seems so… unlikely that i’ll be the one to hold it.” her voice is monotone, as if she’s simply discussing the way the weather seems to grow colder with each passing hour and not a weapon that could be wielded against the one that claimed it last. octavia lets out a sharp sigh, eyebrows furrowed as she thinks about all the options she might get in that hypothetical situation. 
if he could get her to come out of the forest to join him, he’s the best option she has. “i would find mikhail as soon as possible.” she trusts his haunted soul, she trusts his path to non-explosive revenge and can even understand it, just as he understands the pieces of her that are forever missing. even if octavia suspects he’s never asked to be that beacon for many a people.  “he’d know what to do with it.” and there’s no doubt in her mind or her voice.
PARA SAMPLE: 
stasis, octavia, stasis. a mantra repeated inside the alkemi’s mind, fingers absentmindedly playing with the piece of oleander she’s plucked from the bed of flowers that lays around her in her dreams and in the forest, looking at the arrows in front of her, laid out on the table like assassins ready to add another notch to a belt. 
( and she thinks not of the one that experiences the end of them. it’s not guilt that keeps that door locked, either. )
there’s a conversation going on. her mind knows that, her ears hear the noises of a familiar but her mind is somewhere far away from what the other person is sharing — it’s their story and she hears what she’s being told but doesn’t commit to her beating heart. it’s as if my heart has a split right down the middle and it keeps growing and growing. octavia holds the piece of oleander beneath her nose. she hears them but the words roll off her back. inhale. eyes closed, scent all around, a bit of calm and grounding, even if it pales in comparison to what nastia’s presence gives her ( what a temptation it is, to fully let her in, be enveloped by all of her like the oleander does to her nostrils ). exhale. her eyes meet the other person’s eyes again and reality hits like an old tower finally falling after years and years of beatings from the elements. 
octavia smiles, as warm as it is small. she sets the oleander in her lap. “i’ve been told time heals all wounds.” a sentiment she shares easily but is not sure she believes, not since that night spent under her bed, frozen. octavia does believe this: once seen, never forgotten. once heard, never lost. has time healed your wounds? a fair question that octavia wishes she hadn’t been asked. a heartbeat passes and the other would never know the way her mind holds the door against her pleading memories, trying not to let them in. “ask me in a hundred years.” a jest that she tries to sell as an actual answer. it would be a lie if she says she wasn’t relieved the moment the other chuckled and accepted that as an answer. 
stasis. stasis. oleander in her nostrils, nothing in her veins.
outside, there’s nothing but night and the alkemi craves it more than the finished conversation. octavia knows there are many reasons why she likes the shadows — it’s easier to exist when none can truly see you, there’s no chance of there being a reflection looking back at her. no one can see her as she blends into the darkness — not even herself. once upon a time, she was a bright-eyed child, soaking in the sun, laughing with pyotr and running in the moonlight. then, she learned what loss is. then, she learned to not hurt. it had been an easy choice when offered to her by none other than her beat up soul.
time skips and she’s outside, where she belongs. in the forest, lying on the ground while grass tickles her skin. octavia doesn’t remember getting there and how long it took after that talk — well, she doesn’t really want to remember how it felt to feel exposed for even one moment when asked if her wounds are healed, trying to mind-scrub away something that will forever stain red. how long until repeating to herself that she must remain as she is over and over again stops being so effective against the looming and overwhelming sensation of emptiness that her chest as become far too acquainted with?
she is in a bed of flowers lit only by the only source of light at that time of night. every rushing thought dissipates with time, the rustling of the trees and the animal life just lurking becomes the only noises instead. octavia even smiles at the relief that it brings, how the stillness of the night makes her feel as if there is nothing else. she floats away for hours, the only thing grounding her the way the petals feel against her cheek when a night breeze caresses the flowers. 
time skips again, untethered to the reality outside of the forest. there’s a string pulled to her cheek, she cannot see what lies in front of her even a foot in front but she knows where that red dot is. inhale. exhale. octavia lets go of the arrow. a direct hit, she could hear it even above the song of the forest. 
..♦ PART III — EXTRA HYPE..
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