#i'd say i'm sorry for this but that would be a lie i have zero regrets

[superficialdomina]

Missed connection

A/N: I wrote a little Tom fic while my next sub!Loki marinates a bit. It's angsty and a little fluffy and totally self-indulgent.

Inspired in part by @dangertoozmanykids101 and this post. I hope that's OK with her :)

Summary: Stuck in a train carriage in Italy with Tom. Angst ensues.

W/C: 2.7k

Warnings: Very light, thirsty smut. Stay tuned for part 2 if you want the filth.

Two Three parts - but if you like where they end up after the first one you can totally leave it here.

Part 1

You sigh, closing your book and gazing out the window of the unmoving train into the night. You should have arrived in Padua before dusk, but your train out of Venice had ground to a halt several hours ago without explanation, and had sat here, with frustrating stubbornness, in the growing darkness. 

You stretch your neck, looking around you. Your train carriage is mostly empty, and the few other passengers appear to be asleep. You envy them. It had taken several long flights to arrive in Italy, and to be trapped here on this final leg, so close to your destination, with zero information, is… infuriating.

A movement catches your eye as a tall man enters from an adjoining carriage. He moves slowly between the seats, past the sleeping occupants. You avert your eyes and pretend to concentrate on your lap, your innate introversion kicking in and insisting you avoid a conversation with a stranger. 

"Mi scusi?" 

Startled, you look up, meeting his eyes and taking in his face. Gosh, you think, surprised, he's very pretty. And... Familiar? 

"Hai un cellulare da prestarmi?"

"Non parlo Italiano," you stammer out - one of the few Italian phrases you'd learnt in preparation for your trip. "Do you speak English?"

"Oh," he smiles, blushing charmingly. "Of course. I'm so sorry to interrupt you, but - would you have a mobile phone that I could borrow?"

As soon as he switches to English, recognition washes over you like a flood. To see him out of context like this was terrifically confusing - but that voice… It was unmistakable. You’re momentarily unable to speak.

"I… my phone battery is flat," he continues, misconstruing your long pause. "May I - would you mind if I sent a message to someone?"

"Of course," you manage, as you pull your phone out from your bag. His face relaxes in relief and gratitude as he takes it from you. 

His hands, you think as you try to surreptitiously watch his nimble fingers tap the screen. By all that is holy, his HANDS. As though he heard you, he lifts his left hand to nervously run it back through his loose curls, while continuing to text with his other thumb. 

Maybe I'm dreaming, you think cautiously. I fell asleep on the train and I'm… You pinch your leg. Nope. Hurts.

"Thank you," he says with a long exhale, looking down at you and handing back your phone. "I wasn't expecting to be stuck here…"

You can't help laughing. "Me neither, obviously," you smile. He smiles back, his beautiful lips parting slightly to give you a glimpse of his perfect teeth. 

"Well - thank you," he says again, turning to move back the way he had come. 

"Ah -" you begin, slightly confused. "What if - I mean, should you wait for them to reply?" You try to keep your voice low for the sake of the other occupants of the carriage in their happy slumber. 

His eyes run over the book in your lap, where your small clip-on reading lamp is casting odd shadows. 

"I'd hate to interrupt you further," he says, the question clear in his tone.

"Uh - it would be nice to have the company," you lie. As if that was ever true. Although this time… He narrows his eyes at you briefly; without thinking, you extend your hand. "I'm y/n."

He bites his lower lip, making your stomach flutter. And not just your stomach, if you're honest. But he takes your hand and shakes it. "Tom," he says simply.

You swallow hard at the feel of his long fingers grasping your palm and brushing your wrist. He thinks I don't recognise him. 

"I - I know who you are," you laugh uncomfortably, unable to hold his gaze as he takes the seat opposite you, his thick thighs spread wide. Invitingly.

"Oh," he says again. And again with that subtle blush. Is he doing that on cue? "Well - it's nice to meet you, y/n."

There's a brief, thoroughly awkward silence, before he expertly transitions to well-practised small talk. “You’re clearly not Italian,” he says, mocking his earlier language faux pas. "How is it that you find yourself on an immobile train in the Italian countryside?"

You exhale, suddenly aware that you'd been holding your breath. Don’t look directly at him. "I'm here for a conference," you reply, making eye contact with his forehead and speaking a little too fast. “In Padua. I just flew into Venice from Toronto this afternoon.” You want to ask him why he’s here - alone? - but it feels too personal. Don’t interview the poor man.

“Toronto?” He asks. “You don’t sound Canadian, either.” Gods above, his face is so… expressive. He blinks slowly and you catch his glorious eyelashes as they flit against his skin. His broad chest expands with every inhale, straining against his tight, white shirt. 

“Oh- no, I’m Australian,” Christ, could you stop sounding so fucking flustered? “But I live in Canada.” He pauses as though waiting for you to continue, even though you were sure you’d finished talking. “Just for the last few years. For work.” He sounds so… Interested. As though the inane nonsense that is inarticulately gushing from your mouth is all he wants to hear. Gosh, he really is charming. What a strange super power. Why am I still talking?

“What do you-” he begins, but he is interrupted by the ping of your phone.

“That must be for you,” you murmur, scrambling to pick it up. “Oh - no, sorry, just my husband.” A shadow crosses his face fleetingly. Keen to get a reply and get back to his seat, you think. 

You flick a quick text back to your spouse. Still on the train - no movement. Nothing eventful. Well, that was a big fat lie, you muse to yourself, glancing at the stunning man sitting opposite you.

“You’re married?” he asks, as you return your phone to your bag. 

“I - yes,” you reply, absently touching the wedding ring on your finger and trying not to think about the long years since your husband had made your body ache like the man sitting before you. A man who had barely even touched you. 

“Do you like it?” He asks. You are momentarily confused. “Canada, I mean?” 

“Yes. Sometimes. Mostly.” You take a deep breath, once again aware of the arousal he is stirring in you. Make sentences. “I miss home often.” Another awkward pause that you fight to fill, trying not to stare at his long Greek nose or the shadows cast by his ridiculous cheekbones. “They all think I’m British - Canadians, I mean,” you continue, hating yourself for the banality of your small talk. “They all ask me what part of England I’m from. I tell them ‘the very far south’.”

He laughs at that, throwing his head back and issuing a throaty expression of mirth that makes you quiver between your legs. Are… are my pants damp? You wonder silently, both quietly horrified and mildly interested at your body’s reaction to the close proximity of this beautiful man, and the inexplicable circumstances that have led you here.

“Well, you don’t exactly sound like Steve Irwin,” he laughs, eyes glittering in the low light.

“And you don’t sound like Eliza Doolittle,” you quip, before bringing your hand to cover your mouth, mortified. 

“I’m so sorry. I - I’m lousy at small talk. And I’m… A little awed to be speaking to you.” Ugh. Gushing. How unattractive.

But he continues to smile that dazzling smile that touches his lovely eyes so easily. “It’s quite alright,” he says gently. “Most people are.” The words are arrogant, but his tone suggests something altogether different. Is he… Uncomfortable?

He looks briefly out the window into the darkness. Stars have materialised in the inky sky. 

“Skip the small talk, then,” he offers, turning back to face you, voice deep and sultry, eyes piercing and intense. You press your thighs together to relieve the growing tension between them. No question now - you were wet with arousal. “Tell me something… Substantial.” He shifts in his seat and you try desperately not to look at his crotch. Just don’t stand up before he leaves, you tell yourself. His eyes slide to the book next to you. “What are you reading?” 

You also glance at the book on your seat, remembering where you had been mere minutes prior, in that previous life before Tom had first spoken to you. It’s telling that he considers that a substantial question, you think. You swallow. “Ah - War Lord by Bernard Cornwell,” you say, picking it up.

“Are you enjoying it?” 

“I - not really,” you admit, passing your eyes over the cover. Once again, his face encourages you to keep talking. “It’s the last in a long series. I was probably done with them a while ago but - it’s hard not to finish something you’ve come so far with...” You’ve run out of words again, and he’s still watching you…

You awkwardly clear your throat. “What are you reading?”

He laughs and reaches his hand into a large inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out a simple, slightly battered-looking book. 

 “The Dispossessed,” he replies, his eyes sparkling, “by Ursula Le Guin.” His middle finger strokes the spine lovingly. “It’s beautiful. I read it every few years,” he confesses. “It’s a commentary on materialism and capitalism… and it’s also a thought piece about time - time as a product of mathematics and physics but also philosophy and ethics. But mostly,” he finally pauses for breath, “it’s a love story. Love that transcends space and time-”

“I’ve read it,” you interrupt him, and can’t help laughing at the sheer boyish joy that has come over his face as he spoke. “I - it’s one of my favourites, too.” 

The wide, open-mouthed smile he gives you then transforms his entire face, and you suddenly feel that it is the first genuine expression he has given you. What just happened?

“Really?” He is suddenly abuzz with little-boy energy. Puppy energy. “I don’t meet many people who have read it. It’s a seriously underrated Le Guin book.”

“Yes!” you agree heartily. “She’s so renowned for the Earthsea chronicles but… The Dispossessed is so complex and… beautiful. And yes, a truly touching love story. Did you know that Shevek is modelled on Oppenheimer?” 

“I had heard that, but he always made me think of Feynman.”

“Me too!” You laugh enthusiastically, before remembering your sleeping companions and lowering your voice again. “It has, I think, my favourite line ever written.” He raises his eyebrows. You quote, “You can go home again, so long as you understand that home is a place where you have never been.”

“That’s your favourite line ever written?”

“Yes!” you say again, mildly embarrassed. “It’s… it’s…” You search for the words, forcing yourself to form logical sentences again. “We believe that time is something real, that life is what’s happening outside ourselves. But time - life - is within us.” You lean forward in your seat, willing him to understand your point. “You know - you can’t step twice in the same river, because neither you nor the river are the same. Live now, because you won’t be here again.”

He nods. “We all get two lives, and the second life begins when we realise we only get one.”

You exhale, suddenly aware of the thrill that is coursing through your body. Careful, you tell yourself, then chastise yourself for such a foolish notion. But this one might hurt when you land. “Yes. Exactly.”

“I also have a favourite line in it,” he offers, hesitantly. “Maybe not ever written,” he teases you gently, “but…” 

With surprise, you watch him open the book still in his hands to a dog-eared page. He reads. “If you can see a thing whole, it seems that it's always beautiful. Planets, lives. But close up, a world's all dirt and rocks. The way to see how beautiful the Earth is, is to see it from the moon.” 

He looks up at you expectantly, his whole energy shifted, sucking his lower lip into his mouth as though waiting for your approval. But you are momentarily stunned. He’s… Sad. 

“Is that…” You stop, knowing that your question is far too personal, but unsure if you can carry on the conversation without asking it. You’ll never be here again, you remind yourself, and stumble on. “Is that how you feel? All… Dirt and rocks?”

He gazes back at you, his smile touched with a hint of melancholy. “Sometimes. I wonder if my life is more beautiful from a distance than from the inside.” 

You consider your words carefully before we speak. “Don’t we all feel that way? Our lives are more perfect, more interesting, on paper, than they are in reality? Only the people closest to us see how messy we really are. Maybe no one knows us as well as ourselves.”

“Maybe,” he sighs. “I often have to remind myself that this is the life I chose, not the life that chose me.” You stare at him, astonished not only by the words he is saying, but by the brazen honesty of what he is sharing, and by the full 180 degree shift in his mood in the last few moments. Volatile. 

“Anyway,” he smiles, almost convincingly, as if to say, that’s enough self pity. “Your turn. Marriage? How is it?”

The question takes you thoroughly by surprise. “M… Marriage?” He doesn’t speak, but raises his eyebrows as he continues to look at you with that unusual intensity… It is strangely intimate. “That doesn’t really seem like a fair question when I’m staring at Tom Hiddleston sitting opposite me.” You groan inwardly, wishing you hadn’t said it aloud. 

He chuckles. “Close your eyes, then.” 

You stare at him open-mouthed for a second, the simple suggestion ringing through your ears like a command. Your core clenches and you feel the slick in your panties practically gushing down your inner thighs. You swallow hard.

But to be fair to your husband, you do as he suggests. You immediately feel incredibly exposed. “It’s…” You pause, thinking; remembering. “You know when you take a long drive, and somewhere in between towns the radio signal drops out, and there’s nothing but static?” To your surprise, words begin to pour out of you, some kind of overflow triggered by the unexpected vulnerability. “And there’s nothing you can do but keep driving, and trust that you’ll get signal again when you reach the next town?”

You open your eyes again. He has leaned forwards towards you, elbows resting on his spread thighs. His eyebrows knit gently, and he cocks his head slightly, encouraging you to continue. 

“Well… sometimes it’s like that,” you finish lamely, embarrassed at your familiarity with him. 

His tongue darts out of his mouth to lick his lips as he continues to gaze at you with his now familiar, interested intensity. “But you do trust it? That you’ll find the signal again?”

“Mostly, yes,” you reply quietly, meeting his eyes properly as a tingly powerlessness comes over your own body. Breathe, you concentrate, acutely aware of how close he is.

In the next second, two things happen simultaneously. With a sudden jolt, the train rumbles to life and begins to move again, light in the carriage flickering as power is briefly redistributed to the engine. You both gasp in surprise at the unexpected movement.

When your eyes meet again, the spell is broken.

In the same moment, your phone pings a second time. You pull it out, handing it to him when you don’t recognise the number. He swallows, a muscle in his jaw quivering. He takes the phone, smiling stiffly and nodding mechanically as he reads the message; he taps a short reply, then deletes the thread. 

He stands as he hands it back to you. “I think we are not far from your destination,” he smiles, abruptly as poised and controlled as when he had first entered the carriage. The suddenness of the transition from friend to stranger leaves you feeling disoriented. “Thank you for your company, y/n. It’s been a pleasure.” 

You take a breath and lift your chin. “Likewise,” you smile. He nods to you before turning away, and doesn’t look back as he leaves the carriage.

Damn, you think. I didn’t even ask where he's going.

Continued in Part 2

Hope y'all don't mind the tags.

@lokisgoodgirl @gigglingtigger @coldnique @holymultiplefandomsbatman @peaches1958 @chantsdemarins @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @vbecker10 @currish-rosewolfe @muddyorbsblr @so-easy-to-love-me @villainousshakespeare @caffiend-queen @peachyjinx @thomase1 @fictive-sl0th @simplyholl @mochie85 @lokischambermaid @cheekyscamp @sarahscribbles @joyful-enchantress @muddyorbs @lovelysizzlingbluebird

#Tom/reader #tom hiddleston fic #sas stuff

[geminijade]

Calamity, Catastrophe and Calliope Chapter Nine

A/N : 🚫 MINORS ARE STRICTLY FORBODEN

The shit hits the fan in this one. Angst, drinking, bathroom counter sex, Y/N's on a downward spiral, Bucky being protective and the aftercare king that he is. The threat of sexual violence, thoughts of redrum. Famial angst. I'm sorry that it took me so long and I'm sorry that it's so long (no, I'm really not sorry about that second part) Happy Reading, Everyone!!! Likes, hearts, reblogs and comments are always welcome!!! Much love ❤

Bucky's POV:

I barely make it into my apartment, I'm weak from the punishing workout I just put myself through. My apartment is empty again. Rebecca left as if she'd never even been here. I feel a flash of regret that we didn't have the time to catch up with each other. Hell, I'd have settled for a cup of cheap coffee and some quality time. My head is wrapped up in my all consuming thoughts about Y/N, it probably would have been a waste of time. I could have used Rebecca's womanly advice on how to deal with Y/N. She's a woman acting like a girl, a spoiled brat with the heart, mind and body of a woman and I've never felt like this about anyone else in my entire life.

I drink some water and refill it as I reach for my phone. I see that I have a dozen missed calls from Clarence. He usually never calls me unless something is wrong. I quickly call him back and start pacing.

"Where in the hell have you been, Barnes?" His sharp tone throws me off. Something has to be completely wrong for him to lash out at me.

"I was in the gym working out. I left my phone in my apartment. What's going on? Is everything OK with Y/N?"

"I'd say no."

"Talk to me." I grasp the edge of the counter and hold my breath, bracing myself for whatever happens next.

"Make yourself presentable. Don't bother getting ready for your shift tonight. You've got the night off. I'll see you shortly."

"Wha-"

Before I can ask him what happened, he hangs up on me.

"What in the fuck," I mutter to myself.

If something happened to Y/N, he'd tell me right away. I take some comfort in that and head towards my bedroom to clean up. I take a quick shower, dress in black jeans and a t shirt and pace like a caged animal until Clarence shows up at my door.

"Are you going to let me in on what's happening?" I ask the instant that I see him.

I step to the side as he slips past me. He seems to be very relaxed and casual as he walks across my living room and stops to stare out my windows that overlook the city. Jesus, this is frustrating. I'm ready to go straight to the source and get answers from Y/N personally. I need to tell her something anyway.

"Her view is better," Clarence says with his back still turned towards me.

"She's the First Daughter."

He slowly turns around, looking at me with a stony glare. "You're goddamn right she is."

I swallow the lump in my throat because I don't like the way that he's looking at me. If I didn't know better, I'd think that he knew that I was fucking Y/N at every opportunity. I refuse to play dumb so I stay silent. If he knows something, I'll let him say his piece.

"You know that Y/N is like a daughter to me, right?" He stuffed his hands in his pockets and he stares unwavering at me.

He looks down at his shiny black leather shoes and back towards me. "Are you sleeping with her?"

Shit.

Clarence and I don't bullshit each other but his blatant accusation completely throws me off my game.

My first instinct is to lie and save my own ass, but I just stand there, frozen in fear. My silence speaks volumes when realization dawns on him.

"Godfuckingdamnit," he mutters as he turns his back to me again.

I shove a hand in my hair and down my face. My behavior has zero excuses and Clarence will never understand my reasons why and I don't know how to explain it to him.

I should explain that I fucked up. Own my mistakes. I find myself thinking of excuses but they all sound weak and pitiful. But I regret nothing. The truth is, Y/N means the world to me.

"I care about her too, you know."

He turns back around to face me, his expression kinder. "I know that you do. I'm not blind. She may have been oblivious to the way that you look at her these past few months, but I wasn't. Remember, it's our job to read people's intentions before they have any chance to act on it."

I flinch because I wasn't aware that it was so obvious to Clarence this whole time.

"If you knew about us this whole time why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I didn't think that you'd be stupid enough to act on your feelings. You're paid to protect her, Barnes. What in the hell were you thinking to let things go this far?"

I drop my head, shame overcoming me.

"There's not a thing that I could say to make you understand. I thought I was protecting her. She's slowly going out of control. You know that."

He points at me, his frown deepening. "So your solution was to take her to bed? You think that you can control her with a secret relationship that risks every single person in this administration? You're going to lose your job and she's going to be branded with a scarlet letter. I'll be extremely lucky if I get to stick around after the fallout. Then who's going to be the one to protect her? Did you even think of that?"

"Nobody knows. Except for you."

"You're lucky that it's just me. Jesus, I'd hope that the both of you would have some discretion."

He's pacing in a circle, and I keep on waiting for him to yell at me, rip me a new asshole and give voice to all of the doubts in my head.

"What happens next?" I finally ask.

"I'm not going to waste my breath telling you to stop seeing her because I already know that you won't. And after I saw that look in her eyes today..." he shakes his head.

That causes me to frown. "What are you talking about?"

"I don't know what you did or said to her, but you need to fix it before she starts getting advice from her friends about what to do about the bodyguard who broke her heart."

My heart attempts to beat itself out of my chest. "Kali..."

"They're out shopping together. Retail therapy. They're going to have a girls' night out and that spells trouble."

"I got this shift covered. I'll take care of it."

"I already told you that you're relieved for the night. It's coming directly from Y/N. She threatened to get her parents involved if I didn't find a replacement for tonight."

I curse silently and go through the various options. I'm not letting her go that easily.

"Find out where they are for me. I'm going to crash their party."

Clarence finally strides over to me. "I'll give you their location. But you better watch yourself. Don't do anything stupid....er."

"I got this under control."

Clarence doesn't look convinced. "Fix it or I will. And you probably won't like how that goes down."

I nod tightly, because I can read through the lines. Clarence is a friend, but his loyalty is with Y/N first and foremost.

And if I do end up losing my job or getting reassigned to someone else, I'll never see Y/N again.

Y/N POV:

"Which one do you like better?"

I look at Kali as she holds up two different red dresses. We've been in her closet for over an hour, going over each and every red dress that she owns.

She's already dolled up in a matching red lace bra and panty set that has me very concerned about how far she's willing to go with Nikolai tonight. There's only room in this friendship for one terrible decision maker and it's me, but I keep that to myself. I'm trying to find any silver lining to my heartbreak and if I can keep Kali from getting hurt I'm going to.

She's looking at a leather mini dress that screams "harlot" and a spaghetti strap v neck dress with a flowy bottom and a split up the side. I point to that one.

"That's the one, I think."

She rolls her eyes with a sigh. "You think? This is important. I need you to focus."

"I am focused. That one." I glance down at my watch. "When are you gracing Nikolai with your presence?"

Kali slips into the dress and does a spin in front of her full length mirror as she gives herself a once over. "We didn't set up a time, but it works out perfectly. I have to make a stop on the way. We got a last minute invite to a party. And I am in definite need of some liquid courage before we see each other again."

"Whose party is it?"

Kali shrugs indifferently. "I dunno, some rooftop soiree. Someone in my class invited me and you're my plus one. It's low key anonymous, I hope."

"Okay, " I stand up and check my reflection in the mirror. A little black dress for me tonight. Nothing that will draw unwanted attention to me.

I thought about trying on one of the red dress rejects that Kali deemed unworthy, but tonight is about moving on and not looking for another dysfunctional relationship. The thought of being with anyone besides Bucky makes me feel sick.

My plan is to be as invisible as possible. Whatever else happens tonight, it'll be a much needed distraction from my own personal hell. The way that Kali has been running around getting ready for her next encounter with Nikolai has me on edge. I need to be there first and foremost.

Another hour comes and goes before I push her out the door. We requested an Uber to help us make our great escape and twenty minutes later we're on the roof of a raging house party. Loud music is bumping just enough to muffle the conversations as we pass on the way to the open bar. Outdoor heaters buzz with electricity and purple and blue mood lighting everywhere. So far we haven't seen anyone familiar.

Kali orders four shots and doesn't give me the chance to protest. "No arguments. Just drink." I brush her hand away. "I don't know your new guy very well but I'm pretty sure that he wants you to be conscious when you show up."

She waves away my concerns. "I'll be ok. I just need to take the edge off. And you, you need to get some. Tonight."

We down the first shot together, but my brain won't accept any potential suiters tonight. I can't get Bucky off my brain. But maybe, just maybe when the alcohol hits me, he'll start to fade away. I take the second shot, confusion reigns supreme as I swallow the sugary concoction.

Yuck.

"What the fuck is this?"

I see that Kali is talking to me but I can't hear a word that she's saying because I glance over her shoulder and I see Sam. He's a couple of feet away from us and he's surrounded by people who I don't recognize. All I can think is don't let him see you, not tonight and not without Bucky or Clarence here to protect me.

For the first time ever, I regret all of the times that I acted like I didn't need them or their protection. I used to be confident in my ability to protect myself, but ever since Sam attacked me, I know that beyond a shadow of doubt that Sam's resentment and anger are more than enough to over power me. I flashback to that night at his parents penthouse apartment. Sam exposing himself to me and him trying to fuck me because I offered myself to him and I feel sick.

"We should go," I say, interrupting something that Kali was going to say. She looks over at me and frowns. "What? No, I need more shots."

I roll my eyes. She's my best friend, but I swear to God that she'll be the death of me.

"Whatever. Do what you want. I'm leaving."

"What? You're ditching me?" She's staring at me, red lips agape, like I just ruined her whole life.

"Let's just say that this party is no longer anonymous. Text me when you're ready to go. I'll meet you out front."

Kali scans the crowd as I slip away without looking back. I'm afraid that if I look at the crowd it will make Sam notice me. I'm hoping that I can hide in plain sight while Kali finds her liquid courage. The party inside is more packed than the outside. I'm relieved that I don't recognize anyone, vaguely aware that I've become used to being alone in a crowd.

It's better than getting hurt by the people who are supposed to care...

I shut my eyes and all I see is Bucky. Those blue eyes and dark lashes, his full lips as he claims me as his.

I feel a strong arm grab me around my waist and my eyes open with fear that instantly disappears when I recognize Bucky standing in front of me.

"Bucky, what are you doing here?"

"I'm taking you out of here," he says in a no nonsense tone.

I balk instantly and take his arm off of me. "I'm here with Kali. You're not supposed to be here. How did you find me?"

"You think that just because I'm not on clock you can disappear and make shitty choices? I know where you are at all times, and if you haven't already noticed, I take it seriously."

I want to slap him for yelling at me, but I don't. Something dawns on me as I try to piece it all together.

"Clarence helped you, didn't he?"

"Clearly. He figured out that you and Kali would be up to no good, as usual and he tracked your location."

"Why are you here and not him?"

He clenches his jaw so tight that I'm worried that he's going to break it.

"Bucky...."

"We need to talk," he says as he glances at the front door.

"I'm not leaving without Kali."

That causes him to roll his eyes, he takes my hand in his and pulls me down the nearest hallway. We duck inside the first door that we come across. I turn around and take in a lavish bathroom that's more square footage than most apartments.

He slams the door and locks it as he turns to face me. "Does Kali know about us?"

My jaw drops. "Is that why you're here? You're worried that I exposed you? The answer is no, I haven't. I don't plan on it. And just for the record, there is no 'us. ' "

I wait for him to go all cave man on me and try to convince me that I belong to him, but he doesn't. He's eerily quiet.

"If this is about last night... you caught me off guard. I'm not used to relationship talk. Or feelings. I know that I came across as cold, but I never meant to hurt you."

I feel my heart start to beat rapidly in my chest, the last sliver of hope that I had to cling on to is shot down when I remember the stunning stranger in his apartment.

"You did hurt me. I obviously care more about you than you care about me. But I stupidly agreed to your terms and I was ready to accept them. It was ridiculous of me to expect that meant exclusivity, but I did."

"You're not stupid at all. I swear to God that if anyone else ever touches you..."

"I'm not talking about myself, Bucky." I take a step closer to him, my voice raising with each step that I take. "I've been with exactly one other person before you. You really think that I'm going to let you come inside me while you're fucking other women? How naive do you really think that I am?"

His eyes widen at my words. "I'm not fucking anyone but you."

I almost want to believe him.

"Then who was the beautiful woman in your apartment? Another one of your subs from the club? You really expect me to believe that you wouldn't have someone waiting every time we have a fight?"

He shook his head and then he stills. "Jesus, that was my sister."

I laugh and turn my back on him, wrapping my arms around myself. "That's rich coming from you."

He spins me around to face him, and for a split second I want to collapse in his arms and let him kiss me until I can't breathe. I don't know why I still want him after everything.

Because you're gullible and weak. The perfect submissive. Why else would he ever choose to be with me.

"I don't want to hear your excuses, Bucky. Really." I look away, all of my energy is suddenly gone. All I want to do is go home and crawl into bed and forget that anything happened with Bucky. "I wrote you a letter. I was going to tell you that I wanted to try again, try harder. But when she answered the door I knew that I couldn't be who you need me to be. I can deal with the pain and the punishment, but seeing her there did something to my heart that hurt so much worse."

He tenderly touches my cheek, and guides my gaze back to his. "I have only lied to you once. I'm telling you the God's honest truth right now. Rebecca is beautiful, but she's my sister. She's a flight attendant and I let her crash at my place in between flights sometimes. When we get home, I'd be more than happy to show you some family pictures to try and prove it to you."

I part my lips, my mouth suddenly dry. Everything in me wants to believe him, but I still feel foolish. If he's lied to me once...

"Do you remember when you asked me if I felt nothing when I was inside you, I lied. The truth is that I feel everything when I'm with you. I feel your heart beat with mine. I feel your anger and your pain and your loneliness. I felt you open yourself up to me and I want to crawl inside and live there, with you, protect you and fill you up with everything that's missing."

Bucky is gutting me with his words. I feel tears pooling in the corners my eyes. I couldn't speak even if I wanted to.

"You're everything that I need. And all I've ever wanted," he murmurs to me quietly. "I only lied to you because I can't trust myself. It's dangerous to feel like this. I could lose everything. But I can't lose you."

"Bucky..."

His name falls from my lips in a breathless plea, swallowed up as his lips cover mine. At the first touch of his mouth on mine, I feel relief. I feel his tongue seeking entrance and he moans with satisfaction as I let him in. Somehow, despite everything that stands between us, the gaping void that keeps us from ever hoping of having a normal relationship, I believe that everything will be okay. It has to be.

Our kiss deepens as Bucky sets me down on the cold marble countertop. He slides my panties down and doesn't break the connection between us. He pulls me to the edge and parts my knees, wrapping my legs around him as he frees his cock from his jeans and presses into me slowly.

I let my head fall back as he pushes himself deeper into me. Somehow the physical connection becomes the embodiment of everything I have been feeling. He's rooted deep inside me, wrapping me in his arms, we're flush against each other, so close, completely connected, I feel overwhelmed. I've never been intimate with someone like this.

I whimper his name when he thrusts again. He whispers my name into my ear, kissing down my neck as he fucks me gently. I open my eyes and I see dozens of us making love on the counter of the opulent bathroom. Different angles of our reflection reveals everything- the pleasure that turns into something like reverence on Bucky's face, my fingers clawing at his shirt, the muscles of his ass tightening with every thrust.

I sense that in this moment Bucky is giving me everything that he has.

I hold him closer to my chest and I tighten my grip around his hips. I hope that he can feel my silent pleas for more. I love him. I've loved him since before I agreed to be his.

The fact that I can't say those words that make me feel alive is killing me. Before I manage to talk myself out of it, he groans, driving deeper. The friction is heavenly, but it's the way that he hits the deepest, darkest parts of me... that's pure bliss. My eyes roll back and I try to stifle my moans. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine that sex could be this way. With Bucky, everything is better. The places that he brings me to, nobody ever has.

"Y/N," he rasps against my skin. "You're mine. I can't let you go. Tell me that you belong to me, please. "

"I'm yours," I say as I slide my fingers against his scalp, tugging at the roots of his hair that's damp with sweat. "I've always been yours."

At my words, he increases his speed. I feel him everywhere. I tighten and tense up.

"Come for me, baby. Give me everything you have. Give it all to me."

I lean back, propping my hands next to me on the sink so that he can fuck me harder and faster. I feel the loss of his warmth and his heart beating against me, I look up at his beautiful face as he gazes down at me, his eyes glued to where our bodies meet. He holds my thighs apart as his soothing caresses become tight desperate grasps that I know will leave bruises tomorrow. But the feeling gives me satisfaction.

I feel the energy collecting in my belly and it's building with every snap of his hips causes me to tremble. The sight of his thick cock shoving into me, joining our bodies together and me accepting all of him and what he has to offer is my undoing.

"Bucky!" I scream as he makes me come. It's a tearful exclamation that's on the tip of my tongue. I am undeniably his.

Bucky's POV:

I find a cloth and run it under warm water and clean her up as I always do. The truth is that I want to collapse into my bed with her curled up by my side, keep her warm all night long. But that's a fantasy all by itself.

I have no idea where all of this is going. But I can't allow myself to overthink it right now. Not when I just poured out my goddamn heart and soul to her after I fucked her in a stranger's bathroom with a party raging behind the closed door. The voice in my head belongs to Clarence and all I can hear him saying is not to fuck this up.

I already have, but what can I do? I can't think straight around her. I'm falling hard and fast. I know that this isn't who I am, but it's quickly becoming who I am.

A loud bang hits the door, causing us both to jump. I help her slide down the counter and she straightens up, slipping her hand into mine, it feels so goddamn perfect.

I open the door, and Kali is there. She's pale and tinted green, barely holding herself upright.

"Kali, are you okay?" Y/N goes to her side, but steps back as if she's going to blow.

"I...I'm going to be sick."

We both move out of her way and into the hallway, giving her as much privacy as possible and she locks herself into the bathroom.

"Well, well, well. Look who it is."

Y/N's hand is in mine, she's got a death grip on my arm and I tuck it behind my back as I turn around.

Samuel Craigstone stands a few feet away with a drink in his hand and a smug smirk on his face.

He looks at me with bleary eyes, floating from Y/N to me. "So you're the lucky guy who gets that prized Y/N L/N pussy? That why she's not giving it up to anyone else?" He blows a sloppy kiss in Y/N's direction. "That's too bad."

Instantly, my blood runs cold. I'm beyond ready to beat this man-child into blood and bone. I let go of Y/N's hand behind me and I take a step forward.

"Keep her name out of your mouth."

He laughs weakly. "Right. Maybe I'll drop by and let her parents know that she's fucking the hired help. Then what will you do about it?"

Fuck. My thoughts start racing with what he might have seen.

I'm pretty sure that he has nothing. It's all speculation. He might have noticed that we were holding hands or that we left the bathroom together. He's drunk and nobody will believe him. For all he knows we were helping a drunk Kali, who I can still here heaving on the other side of the door. I'm not working, I'm not supposed to be here, but even I can explain that with Clarence's help of course.

I take a menacing step forward and that pushes Sam backwards. He raises his hands.

"Let's work something out between us, big guy. I take a turn, you take a turn." He let's out a drunken laugh. "There's no way that you got attached that quickly. I can keep my mouth shut and you can look the other way. Let me hit it just once. Gimme a little taste. It won't hurt."

Bucky balls his hands into fists and let's out a ragged breath.

"If you even so much as look at her in the wrong way and I will end you. Understood?" I'm seething and my breathing is erratic.

He has the nerve to smile at me. Maybe it's the alcohol giving him the audacity to try to challenge me. But it's the malicious look in his eyes that tells me differently. He knows exactly what he's doing. He's pushing my buttons, trying to provoke a reaction.

He takes another step closer, narrowing his eyes at me. "I wasn't asking you for permission. I don't need it." He looks at Y/N, raking his eyes over her body. "Enjoy the ride while you can. Because sooner rather than later, I'll get my chance with America's Little Princess."

Sam's expression is dark as he winks at Y/N, as if she could be anything but repulsed by him. She's completely motionless, her expression is one of a deer caught in the headlights. I recognize the fear in her eyes.

A murderous rage fills me, it's unlike anything that I've ever felt before. I could kill him. I could wrap my hands around his pale throat and choke the life out of him. He's a sick little bastard but I can't kill him. Even thinking about it would get me into a world of trouble.

Instead, I double back and knock on the door. Kali finally stumbles out a few seconds later, her eyes are red and her face pale.

"Are you okay?" Y/N wraps her arms around her.

Kali nods and I nudge Sam against the hallway as we pass.

A few minutes later, we're outside and in my car. I shoot a look at Kali, who's in the backseat. "If you feel like you're going to be sick, let me know and I'll pull over."

She sighs. "I'm fine. I just..." her head falls into her hands. "What am I going to tell Nikolai?"

I frown and look at Y/N, whose bottom lip is currently trapped between her teeth.

"Nikolai?" I ask in a low tone.

She nods quickly. "He reached out to her. They were supposed to hook up tonight at Seven."

"I blew it," Kali sobs. "I'm so stupid. I was so nervous...I screwed it all up."

She collapses sideways in the backseat of the car, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

"I'll take care of it, okay? Nikolai is a friend," I say.

She doesn't respond. I make my way through the city while Y/N is silently staring out the window as it passes us by.

I grab my phone and pull up Nikolai's number. He answers with his thick accent.

"Bucky."

"I have your date," I say quietly.

He's silent on the other end.

"She drank too much. I think that you make her nervous. What in the hell were you thinking about inviting her back?"

He laughs. "Ah, sweet temptation. You know how it is. What about you? Have you given up on her yet?"

I tense my jaw and look at Y/N.

He laughs again, interrupting the list of ways that she drives me crazy.

"Guess not," he answers for me. "You were right, though. The girls are definitely trouble, but the good kind of trouble." He sighs. "She's drunk, yeah?"

I look in the rear view mirror and see that Kali is snoring quietly in my back seat. Her house is less than a mile away.

"She's done for the night."

He's silent for a moment. "I'll reach out to her tomorrow. You won't see her at Seven again. Perhaps this is the way it should have been."

"I'll leave it up to you to break the news. Talk soon."

Kali won't be happy, but that's not my problem. Y/N's protection detail is still sitting outside of Kali's house. I end the call and dial Clarence. As soon as he picks up, I speak.

"Clarence, I'm dropping Kali off at her house and then I'll be on my way home with Y/N."

He clears his throat. "How'd it go?"

I can sense Y/N staring at me.

"Everything is fine. Kali had to much to drink, but she'll sleep it off and be fine in the morning. What do you want me to do with Y/N?"

"I assume that you are going to tuck her in."

I try to stifle my laugh. But, in all honesty I have every intention of spending the night with her. Fucking her in the bathroom wasn't enough for me. I need to be inside her again. I need to hear her scream my name.

"Unless you think that it's going to be an issue, I'd prefer to stay with her tonight. Can you take over tomorrow morning to avoid any potential awkwardness?"

I hear him sigh. "Sure, I'm only fifty years old. Who needs sleep at my age?"

I smile because I believe that despite all of his judgment and reservations about us, he does care about us. He might even be hoping like I am that we can somehow make it work.

"Thanks, Clarence."

We hang up and I trust that he'll take care of the rest. When I drop Kali off and Y/N makes sure that she's safe and settled in. She returns about 15 minutes later. Her bare thighs are tempting me almost more than I can handle as I pull away from the curb. I want to stop the car and do unspeakable things with her.

But I don't. I resist the urge and drive towards home. I park in the underground parking lot and we take the elevator up to her apartment. Somewhere on the journey up, I'm lost between two sides of myself. The one that swore to protect her and the other that's committed to loving her.

She threads her fingers through mine and leans her head on my shoulder as we continue to ride in silence. Her actions feel more intimate which should scare the crap out of me. But then I remember how badly I treated her the last time she let me in her apartment. If I want to keep her, something has to change.

Once we're safely inside her apartment, I make a choice. I shut the door behind us and pull her into my arms and consume her. We kiss slowly and deeply and I'm ready to drag her into the bedroom and show her exactly what she means to me when she stops me. She smiles at me sheepishly as her stomach growls loudly. "Sorry."

I pull back to look at her. "When's the last time that you ate?"

She shrugs. "Kali brought bagels over earlier. I was too upset to eat before we went out."

I frown, take her hand and lead her into the kitchen. I pull out a stool for her to sit on. She sits down and props her head in her hands as I rummage through her fully stocked fridge.

"What are you hungry for?"

"Something that will soak up those God awful shots Kali made me take at the party."

I shake my head at her admission and I stuff down all of the things that I want to say to her about her friendship with Kali but don't. I'm sure that she has at least one redeeming quality, but it's difficult to rationalize when she's constantly dragging Y/N into compromising situations.

I dig around in a few of her drawers, putting together a recipe for us. I'm starving too, and if I want the rest of the night to play out how I want it to, we're going to need fuel. "How does breakfast for dinner sound? Eggs, bacon and toast?"

"That sounds perfect. You don't have to cook for me, Bucky. I can do it."

"I've got this," I say firmly.

But before I can stop her, she's sliding off the stool and she comes around the island as I'm setting the eggs and bacon on the counter. She slips in-between me and the counter, using her ass to nudge me back so that she can open a cupboard with some mixing bowls nesting inside. I graze my palms over her perfect curves, but she's standing up and cracking eggs into a bowl before I can take advantage of her position.

I sidle up behind her so that her back is flush against my front. I lower my lips to whisper I'm her ear. "Are you trying to get me to feed you or fuck you, Y/N?"

"Feed me first, then..." she whispers softly.

I gently pull her earlobe between my teeth and bite gently. She stops what she's doing and sighs.

"What's the matter, baby?"

"After...then you can fuck me."

I tighten my hold on her and force myself to take a deep breath. Hearing the word "fuck" slip from her pretty lips does things to me. But my main priority is taking care of her first and foremost.

I fight against the urge and I step back and start frying the bacon. We work together in comfortable silence. The air is thick with our sexual tension.

"Go sit. I'll make you a plate," I say as I turn off the burners.

She rolls her eyes and smiles but doesn't put up a fight. I make our plates and sit down next to her at the kitchen island. Y/N doesn't waste any time getting started. I'm equally happy that she's eating and angry at myself for upsetting her enough to kill her appetite.

"I know that you said that I shouldn't expect stuff like this, but I will admit that it is kinda nice." She pauses to take a bite and I nod slowly and eat a piece of crispy bacon. "I don't usually cook for other people, but for you I'll make an exception."

She tilts her head and looks at me with an inquisitive expression on her face. "Why don't you?"

I hesitate for a minute and think about her question.

"I guess I've never had a reason to before." I put my fork down onto my now empty plate and contemplate telling her more. She's given so much of herself to me already. The thought of holding back seems unfair and not to mention dangerous if it drives her away.

"After I got out of the military, acclimating to normal life wasn't as easy as I thought it would be. I lost touch with my squad and I never really connected with people when I moved to DC. I've always been about the mission."

"What about your sister? You must see each other over the holidays sometimes?"

I shrug and I can't bring myself to look at her. "Rebecca's always traveling for work so we rarely get to see each other for a long period of time. Our parents died a long time ago. They were the only reason we would all get together as a family. I guess we just sort of fell apart."

"I am so sorry, Bucky."

I shake my head. "You don't have to apologize to me. It's not like your situation is any better."

I see her wince and I immediately regret my words.

"Sorry, I-"

She takes my hand in hers and gives it a squeeze. "I know that my parents can come across as cold. And, truthfully they are sometimes. It wasn't always like that. Everything got really intense when my father started on the presidential path. Nothing stays the same forever. My hope is that one day we'll be a real family again."

She smiles weakly at me and the sadness in her eyes nearly guts me.

"And if I'm wrong and that day never comes, I'll make my own family. I won't always be under their control. That's what I miss about New York. It's nothing like DC at all. I felt like myself there. I could see myself starting a life and a future outside of state dinners and campaign events. A life that would be mine."

"Y/N, baby..." I don't know what else to say. I want to pull her into my arms and hold her, be the reason for her happiness. But maybe all that I can do for her is be an escape, a reprieve from her life consumed by circumstances beyond her control and an unyielding family.

She stands up before I can say anything else. "Are you going to stay the night with me?"

I swivel on the stool and she settles inbetween my thighs, running her hands up and down my arms.

I capture her face in my palms and stare into her eyes. Instantly, I'm caught up in her beauty, her innocence, her perfection. I'm whipped and strung tightly, I'm ready to worship her all night long. I nod.

She bites her lip and something like happiness is reflecting in her eyes. "If that's true, I want something from you."

I lift an eyebrow. "You think that you can call the shots now?" My tone is low and unwavering.

Her gaze darkens a little bit. Enough to show me that she feels comfortable asserting her dominance over me and the fact that she takes pleasure in it. She lowers her eyes and plays with the hem of my tshirt.

I lift her chin and kiss her softly. "Talk to me."

She blinks and her pink lips open slightly. "I've never seen you naked. I don't know if it's because you don't feel comfortable with me, or-"

I don't hesitate as I pull my shirt up and over my head and toss it to the floor.

"There," I say. "Is that better?"

Without a word, she skims her hands over my shoulders, across my chest, and ultimately, she trails her fingertips down my abs, stopping at the button on my jeans.

"Wow," she said quietly.

I try not to grin but her unfiltered appreciation satisfies something deep down inside me.

She shakes her head slightly. "Sometimes I don't believe that this is really real. That I get to touch you like this."

Seconds tick by, her hands are roaming the expanse of my skin, my breath catches and I release it. Being with her at the party earlier tonight seems so long ago. I need to be with her again. I gently stop her movements, stand up and brush my lips across hers. She stands on her tippy toes and threads her fingers roughly into my hair.

With a moan, I yank her dress up and off and pull her into her bedroom where we collapse into her plush mattress, hands roaming, lips claiming, hips searching for contact. I can't wait another second to take her.

Tonight is our night. Tonight, this incredible, gorgeous woman needs something that she's never been given before. Something that I've never been able to offer anybody before. Something that feels forbidden and brief.

I strip the clothes off her and pull our bodies together and I resolve to spend all of my time loving her. Cherishing her. Making her believe, that beyond a shadow of a doubt that is real.

@sarahbellesaurus @dishearteningly-yours @harryxmarvel @learisa @dozcan123 @makanirock05 @anotherfan18 @sambuckybesite @selenestar78 @cieraboobear @thethinksithought @lovehotch87 @abbyyourlocalmilf @baektominaj @thetallscorpiobee @ddddawson @starsofcloud @ordelixx @stevihj @holylulusworld @tess-love @hawkeyes-queen @iwaizumiismybae @dunningz @impossiblecreatorathletelov-blog @tupelomiss @rebelbossheart @kandis-mom @sebastians-love @lizdwet @999ares9996 @stilinskisthings @taz20132 @xxannyxx @loki-laufeyson68 @a-rotten-chicken-nugget @natchi-disday @littlemissaddict @alllykatt @m1ssbarnes @lanasturniolo @kellygoth66 @swanlakemikey @shylunamoon24 @captainfbffangirl99 @glgibbons @sukaibg @yal1d

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[bestworstcase]

Sooo, I've been going through some of your posts, reading up on your personal opinions on certain characters I like. I'm trying to understand why you think certain things, so sorry if I come off as rude at any point. There's likely some posts I've missed lol

Uhhh, I'll be the first to admit that I don't agree with most, if not all of your takes, but regardless I find your train of thought pretty interesting cause you do make a few points I agree with.

One thing I wanna ask is- why do you see Ozpin as someone who's a needlessly paranoid religious zealot that doesn't understand Salems point of view and is demonizing her for basically no reason?

I've probably bastardized your opinion somewhere in my attempt to paraphrase it, but I'm really curious since your opinion is pretty much the exact opposite of mine lol.

Feel free to ignore the tangent I'm gonna go on, I just want to share my opinions and debate a little (I need a little mental stimulation lol).

Personally, I honestly don't see Oz as a religious zealot, or as someone who follows the GoL unquestionably. His first reaction to the GoL offering him his task is to say- "No." Oz, thinking Salem is dead, does not care about what the GoL wants or needs from him. And when Oz takes his task (which imo he was manipulated into by the GoL) and reincarnates, he immediately ignores the GoL's incredibly vague warning and goes looking for Salem. Not only that, but when he's asked by Ruby if he has a plan to defeat Salem/unite humanity, he says he doesn't. Plus, he actively refers to his immortality as a curse, despite the GoL not framing it that way. Oz deems his task impossible, and has thus given up on it. Imho, none of this says that he unquestionably follows the Gods. Maybe he had more faith in the beginning, but by referring to his immortality a curse, he's basically insulting the GoL's task. Oz isn't as vindictive or as hateful towards them as Salem is (at least not yet, with v9 and all), but imo he's definitely not fond of them, or at least doesn't hold them in such high regard anymore. The only reason why he continued with his task in the first place is because he was already there with Salem. He doesn't exactly have a choice now, and now he's given up with it, just trying to keep the peace. And, if Jinn is as unreliable as a narrator as you say and the lost fable is from Oz's perspective, it paints the Brothers as petty and manipulative and changing their mind at the drop of a hat. The same is true in the fairytales (which I need to read in full, I currently only know a wiki summary so my knowledge is limited, I won't lie), which Ozpin helps create. I really don't think these things would exist if Oz worshipped them so thoroughly and unquestionably. It's very likely he sees them as petty and manipulative brothers whose fights result in needless death.

I'd talk more, but I don't want to make this ask too long 😅 I think your perspective is interesting, even though I don't agree with it. If/when you answer this, is it okay if I reblog so I can share my own perspective more? It's fine if not, I just like debating (in a friendly, respectful way ofc) different points like this. I really enjoy Oz as a character. He's far from perfect but I think he gets a bad rep, some of it just being different perspectives and others being completely unfair. No one can agree on him so I have fun reading lol

you’re fine—& if you want to rb with your own thoughts feel free.

to start with ozpin’s paranoia, aside from the obvious factor that he explicitly does not trust anyone in his own inner circle and justifies keeping secrets on the grounds that every ally is a betrayal waiting to happen: there is zero evidence that salem has been waging a sustained campaign against him ever since the collapse of the ozlem kingdom. 

in the lost fable, ozma sees two beowolves attacking his settlement and assumes that salem must have sent them: jinn implies that he sees her hand behind every grimm, hence “her presence was always felt.” 

but… not every grimm in the world is under salem’s control. we know this. the grimm that attack the argus express are not hers—they’re wild grimm drawn to the relic. salem had no knowledge of where the relic was or that oz had reincarnated until hazel told her. similarly, the leviathan that attacks argus later is attracted by cordovin (the WOR episode on grimm implies that grimm are drawn to violence and violent emotion specifically). she didn’t send the grimm of mountain glenn to vale; she sent cinder to kill a child on international television to incite mass hysteria that attracted grimm in huge numbers. and during her siege of atlas, it’s noted repeatedly that salem’s forces have not advanced, but wild stragglers are trickling into mantle, drawn by the fear in the crater.

so ozma, in assuming that salem is the mastermind orchestrating every grimm attack in the world, wildly overestimates her actual influence and blames her for the natural behavior of the grimm. 

at the same time, over this period of time between their kingdom collapsing and the beginning of the story, ozma has been phenomenally successful in hiding salem’s existence from the world and erasing her from history. there used to be legends about her everywhere—the witch in the woods who commanded dark powers among the beasts and monsters—and those are gone. before ruby revealed her existence to the world, no one had the slightest idea that she existed. 

the only way for ozma to bury her like that is if salem herself did not do anything to draw attention to herself and stayed very far away from civilization. ozma is just one person, and there are significant gaps in his presence and influence whenever he dies and reincarnates. there is no way he could have kept salem a secret if she periodically razed his cities to the ground or made overtures to groups like the white fang on a regular basis. what she’s done in the story isn’t a pattern of behavior: salem calls the fall of beacon her first move.

and then in v9? this happens:

SUMMER: You know how Ozpin gets. Mystery after mystery… TAIYANG: And when it turns out to be yet another run-of-the-mill patrol, it’ll be— BOTH: “I always preferred discretion!”

during summer’s time as a huntress, ozpin regularly sent her and her teammates on Urgent Top Secret Missions on short notice in the dead of night only for them to turn out to be… nothing. yet another run-of-the-mill patrol. ozpin was fighting a war that salem didn’t start to dignify with her participation until she met summer rose.

<- paranoid behavior.

but the real uh, meat of this is the zealotry.

to be clear, i think that before all the tragedy, both salem and ozma were religious and had faith in the brothers—i’ve written plenty about salem’s religiosity in the lost fable so i won’t belabor that point, but she believed in the gods until they shattered her faith by, you know, condemning her to eternal suffering because she worshipped both of them. and i see no reason to think that ozma didn’t have the same faith. the same flowers that salem brings as an offering to the god of light are hung up on the walls of their home; this was a religious household. 

so. when the god of light wakes him up, ozma believes what light tells him without question—by which i mean, he literally does not ask questions. light says that humankind will rise again, a mere fraction of what their predecessors were, and that they if they are not changed when the brothers return, they will be judged irredeemable and obliterated. ozma does not question the truth or rightness of this premise. he’s frightened and sorrowful, but he doesn’t question the god of light’s implication that humankind, as it is now, does not deserve to exist and needs redemption. 

his refusal is not predicated on a rejection of the mandate itself, and he’s very polite and respectful about it: “i’m sorry, but that world just isn’t as dear to me without her. if i may, i’d like to return to the afterlife to see salem.” ozma does not want to be the one to do this—but he accepts without question the idea that someone must, and he deliberately leaves the door open for the god of light to command him to do it (“if i may”). he’s a religious man; he’s prepared to do what his god asks of him, even as he hopes he that he won’t have to.

(the god of light absolutely manipulated him—and he used ozma’s faith, ozma’s belief in light’s benevolence and just nature, to do it.)

and once ozma reincarnates, he actually does heed the warning the god of light gave him: jinn notes that he travels for years, hearing rumors about “the witch” wherever he goes, before he gives in and decides that “he needed to see what she had become.” the god of light told him that the woman he loved was gone, and what was left of her would only bring him pain, and he believed that because, again, he had no reason not to…

…until he reunited with salem. that is when ozma began to experience doubts, because while salem had physically transformed, she was still herself. still the woman he loved. she still loved him. she hadn’t changed; they rebuilt her cottage together and lived happily. and that made him uncomfortable, because it cast doubt onto everything else the god of light had said to him. if light was wrong (or lying) about salem, what else did he lie about?

“though time passed and all seemed well, ozma’s conversation with the god of light still lingered in his mind. he had found happiness, but humanity seemed more divided than ever…”

the stakes could not be higher; the fate of the entire world is on ozma’s shoulders. in his heart of hearts, he knows salem, he wants to believe salem, but… if he trusts her and he’s wrong, the world will be condemned to annihilation. so he’s torn. he can’t stop worrying about it. how could the god of light be wrong? why would his god lie to him? but he’s happy with salem. but the world seems more divided than ever and it’s his responsibility to fix it. what’s the truth?

ozma is an intensely anxious person. he thinks fear is the one truly universal experience because he himself is afraid all the time. in the lost fable, he’s scared of the happiness he finds with salem because he cannot. stop. thinking. about the god of light saying “man will be found irredeemable and your world will be wiped from existence.” but he’s also too scared to tell salem the truth, or ask her for help, because the god of light also implicitly warned him that she was damned. he can’t bring himself to leave her, but he also can’t bring himself to believe her, and if she is damned then he wants to save her, too, not just the world.

so he carefully raises “humanity is divided” as a problem he would like to solve, without giving her any context, and when she answers “we can do that!” he decides to just… go along with her first suggestion in the hope that he can eventually ease her into accepting the rest of the divine mandate. because he loves her. because he’s terrified of losing her, and his faith in the god of light is in conflict with his love, and he tries desperately to square that circle by redeeming her.

which fails, because salem’s faith in the brothers shattered long ago and she sees them clearly as the monstrous tyrants they truly were—so she rejects the mandate entirely and asks ozma to reject it with her.

here is the part where my interpretation of ozma depends heavily on my interpretation of salem, because:

i do not think salem was proposing genocide; i think by “replace them” she meant “replace the gods who demand redemption,” in accordance with her longstanding ambition of overthrowing the brothers, and

i think ozma knew that.

frankly, in my opinion, this is the most charitable possible interpretation of what ozma does when salem holds out her hand because HE HESITATES. he looks at her hand, frowning, and then his eyes flick downward and to the side as his expression crumbles into indecision. ozma wants to take her hand. he wants to stay with her. so either salem said “let’s kill everyone!” and ozma a) seriously considered it for a moment and b) did not challenge that idea or demand an explanation from her, or… salem made her point clumsily but both she and ozma understood what she meant, and what she meant was “nothing the god of light told you matters anymore, the brothers aren’t here, why should we spend our lives trying to redeem these humans when we could make a paradise without the gods, like we planned?”

(since you’ve not read the fairytale anthology, i’ll note that “what they could never be” is a paraphrase of the closing lines of the shallow sea: “And the descendants of the Humans who turned away from our god’s great gift have always carried envy in their hearts. To this day, they resent us for reminding them of what they are not and what they never can be.” just as ozpin uses fairytales to make sense of his life and ease people into his conspiracy, i think salem quoted from this old oral tradition to express her opinion of the brothers; like the faunus in the story, she chose to leap into magical waters and was transformed into something new, and she believes that remnant has the potential to be the paradise the “old gods” failed to achieve. she’s implying that the brothers are envious of remnant and resent these humans—and her—for reminding them of their failures.) 

then… you know, they murder each other and kill their children and raze their own kingdom to the ground. and ozma wakes up behind somebody else’s eyes, again. he sacrificed everything and it shattered him and now he has nothing left except the mandate.

was it worth it?

the answer is no. the answer is that this world isn’t as dear to him without salem, and if the only way to save the world is to lose her, he can’t do it. he doesn’t want to. until the end is his song. “to live free or die, it’s all the same/the enemy was right, there’s no reclaiming/in waves of shame/we’re desperate to make amends/but through a simple soul we lie complacent”—like. he knows salem is a person. he knows she’s right about the brothers. he wants to make amends, but he doesn’t believe he can, because the man fucking despises himself. 

in his commentary on ‘the infinite man,’ ozpin describes the man—himself—as both a hero and a fool who made such grievous mistakes that to some he is a villain, and suggests that he may not be worthy of forgiveness. in ‘the girl in the tower,’ the character of ozma is simply called “the hero,” and in ozpin’s commentary he says that “if you look far enough ahead […] heroes may turn out to be villains.” he isn’t talking about salem. he’s talking about himself. he sees himself as the villain in her story, and taken as a whole ‘fairytales of remnant’ reads like a tortured apology to her more than anything; he closes with a story about humans breaking the sun and creating the moon, and in his commentary: “[people] not only replaced the sun, a celestial gift from the all-powerful god of light, but also improved upon it through their own ingenuity.”

he thinks it’s too late. if he could go back and do it again, he would take her hand, but the truth is that he didn’t, and he doesn’t believe she will ever forgive him. no second chances. nothing he can do to make amends. ozma’s mindset is that he made his choice and now he has to live with that forever.

and it’s unbearable. it’s torture. 

after everything that happened, ozma clings to zealotry as a coping mechanism. in his heart of hearts, he has no real commitment to the mandate: he’s distorted it to be about salem. ozma sought the relics so he could use them to “destroy salem.” jinn told him he couldn’t; he proceeded to devote countless lifetimes to fighting an (imaginary) war against salem. he has No Plan. beacon academy is modeled after her father’s castle and ozma put his office in her tower! in her prison!!

his inner circle is a cult dedicated to the god of light and he built the academies as fortresses to safeguard his reliquaries forever and ever while he fights to protect the people of remnant from enemies like “panic” and “division” whom he represents with her face, her name, and the way he truly feels about All Of This is trapped. it’s been so long that he’s convinced himself that his lies are true—that she’s an inhuman monster who craves only death and revels in destruction—but he built her tower and locked himself inside.

ozpin lies to everyone. even himself. especially himself. the intensity of his guilt and regret drove him to weave an elaborate fantasy casting salem as the villain and himself as the fool destined to be her enemy, and he clings to it desperately because he has to believe that. he has to believe that she lied to him, too. he has to believe she’s the one who manipulated him. if it isn’t all her fault, if she isn’t the Great Evil, then his own choices have no justification.

the lying becomes so habitual, so ingrained that he lies without even thinking. why didn’t he tell the kids that the lamp might attract grimm? when they demand an answer on the train, ozpin freezes. he doesn’t have a real answer. he just… withheld vital information because that’s what he always does. a reflex.

the zealotry is of a piece with the lying. he had faith in the god of light—and he still believes that the gods will condemn and destroy the world if they’re summoned, and i think he believes it’s futile to fight them and that if salem tries they’ll crush her again, so he truly does not want her to try and he’s not lying when he claims she’ll bring about the end, because he believes that’s the only possible outcome of rebellion—and he believes himself to be beyond forgiveness. this is all he has, and the only way he can cope with that is… the fairytales. palliative fantasy. a story about a monster and the man destined to fight her. lifetime after lifetime until the lies seemed almost true.

ozma’s trauma is religious in nature. he’s a religious man who lost his faith a long time ago because his god is using him to punish salem and he hates himself because he fell for it, and now he thinks it’s too late. she’ll never forgive him. he can’t see a way out, so he clings ever harder to the mandate because it’s all he has and it gives him a shred of purpose in being her fated enemy. all he wants, all he’s everwanted, is to be with her, and if he hadn’t believed in his god when all of this began, they would have lived happily in her cottage forever.

all of which is to say, yeah, ozma does not hold the gods in high regard. his obedience does not come from reverence or love—he’s fucking terrified of them. the main difference between him and salem in their view of the gods is that she believes they can be resisted and beaten, and he does not. zealotry doesn’t require that he think the god of light is good or just, only that he obey. he’s still under light’s thumb even as it kills him inside, and he can’t escape until he stops lying to himself about what salem is.

bc she’s… not a monster. she didn’t lie to him, and she certainly didn’t manipulate by not… being able to read his mind when he hid things from her. she made it clear from the start that she wanted to replace the brothers and create a new, better world without them, and in the present all of her rage is directed at his deception and his cowardice in obeying the gods. what he did is not unforgivable. he can make amends, if he finds the courage to try. there is a door he can open to leave the tower. the first step is letting himself believe it’s possible. 

(this is why it matters that he asks the kids to forgive him and give him a second chance in V8. ozma has never forgiven himself for anything and for lifetimes he’s believed himself to be irredeemable; not just recognizing the possibility but actively choosing to ASK for forgiveness was so important, and so necessary.)

#‘trust love’ is About Him

[wispstalk]

20 questions for writers

under the cut. Thanks to @everybodyknows-everybodydies for tagging🖤

Tagging back: @nuwanders @jiubilant @ervona @ehlnofay @druidx @blossom-adventures @sylvienerevarine @throughtrialbyfire @da3drat no pressure

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Five

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

198327

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Just elder scrolls. I have a feeling that's gonna be it for me. I've been tempted to write stardew valley fic lately which would perhaps be classed as "crack" (I know what that is in theory but the way people use it makes no sense to me) but I took a cursory look at the tag and I don't think the stardew valley fandom is ready for a ray fic lmao

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Well. I have five.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try 🫠 it haunts me how often I've left my beloved mutuals on read..... but if that's u and I did, I am telepathically beaming this: !!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ Making out sloppy style etc etc

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

lol. lmao even

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

.....within AO3 I guess it's "Morning" but also that's set at a refugee camp? I will say the skyrim story will have a more peaceful ending but up until now fic writing has been an outlet for my thwarted rage and covid brain damage soooo

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I mean this is generally a culture of positive feedback. Someone did yell at me once for hitting martin septim with the transgender beam which is a level of no-life-havin loserdom which could be classed as "hate" but came off as pure cope and seethe

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I really bristle at the word smut sorry its too cutesy. I was a prodomme for seven years I don't do euphemisms lol. I wrote a sex scene into IITT to see how I felt about writing sex scenes. I learned that I am only interested in writing them if they serve specific functions. I have absolutely zero judgment toward anyone who wants to write about fuckin and suckin, that's just not why I'm here

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

No but recently my household watched game of thrones together and my bf and his brother were cracking jokes like what if one of these medieval characters had a gundam. Neither of them read fic so I was like don't be too entertained by yourselves. I bet that has been written. looked it up on ao3 and sure as shit

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I'm not gonna lie I did find a fic where someone very obviously ripped me off but I don't wanna call them out. One specific instance where they bit my style was so clumsily applied as to be obvious, but their prose in general was fantastic so like. who care.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not as far as I know but that would make me holler

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

Nope. I'm not opposed to the idea but it's hard to imagine how I'd do this given my process. I think I'd be pretty difficult to work with

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

?!? I dunno I don't have one. I put a lot of effort into writing martinhok but I could not say that one, due to how overwhelmingly heterosexual the tag is. I'm sorry but can everyone who's not a faggot please pipe down

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have my moments with the skyrim wip. I've signed myself up for something pretty complicated and challenging but I also learned that I can finish things so I'm not really worried about it. The fact of the matter is: I do not care if this is good. It matters that it is done so I can move on with my life. If parts of it are boring and overlong that's yalls problem

16. What are your writing strengths?

I get a lot of compliments on my worldbuilding. I do think a lot about the minutiae of material culture and think I have a talent for incorporating detail in engaging ways

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm a cornball. This is a corny activity. I don't really care because I'm doing it for free. Enjoy the unsolicited view into an internet stranger's terrible psyche

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I try to apply with a light hand. I'm a dumbass sheltered American and I can mostly make myself understood in a Spanish-speaking country but that's about it. I like playing around with language and the idea of multilingual societies matters to me so I include it, but I'm not a linguist so I try to work within my limits. Whether I am successful at this is up to others.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Elder scrolls. Never felt compelled until i spent a winter playing oblivion and went wow this game has an incredibly bleak narrative behind a silly aesthetic. Oops now I'm in a lore pit

20. Favorite fic you've written?

The Nature of Fire is my best prose hands down. I'm gonna be real with y'all I am desperate for people to read it. It is genuinely the best I can do at this point and if you like what I've done so far, well, whatever u read sucks compared to this fic.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Silver, Idia: Believe in the Me that Believes in You

I’m not a huge fan of Silver, but his Broomquet Groovy is one of my favorites ^^ I really love the color of the sky and how the birdies have come to fly with him!

Silver talks about training with Lilia in this interview; I kept thinking of Mulan's training montage during it. He also mentions that Lilia pat his head for the first time in a while and told him he's grown into a fine young man so of course I had to make jokes about how "it'll be the final time" and "Lilia's finally booting Silver out of the house now that he's 18 so papa can fuck off to retirement"—

A Boy in Bloom, and his Flowering Future.

"How do you spend your days off?"

Idia looked up from his clipboard. H-Huh?! Do I really have to ask this?! I-Isn't it obvious what Silver-shi's answer will be? Obviously, an air-headed macho man like him's going to say...

“When possible, I work on my equestrian skills and horse handling technique. Otherwise, I train.”

“O-Oh… right…” Idia failed to curb his lack of enthusiasm.

See?! I totally predicted that!! He’s got zero brain cells upstairs, all the brain cells were beaten out of existence by his muscles! Now all that's left is a space-case!

Silver took one look at Idia’s bug-eyed stare, and a realization (the wrong realization) set in. “Are you curious about my regimen? I’m sorry, I will elaborate.

"As one of the young master's knights, it is my responsibility to protect him. This requires maintaining peak physical performance. To begin with, my regular warm-up involves stretching, then 100 sit ups, 100 push-ups, 100 squats, and a 10 kilometer run."

"B-B-BWEH?!" Idia practically choked on his own saliva. "D-Did you really just say all of THAT for a warm-up?! And you do that willingly? For FUN?!“

"Yes, that's right. It's very light and helps to wake my body up. After that is when the 'real' training begins. I do cardio and focus on different parts of the body depending on the day of the week."

"Wh-When do you find the time to take breaks?! J-Just listening to you describe your daily exercise is making my muscles cry..."

"Ah, you're wondering how I'm able to keep up with my routine."

Huh?! It's like this guy just button mashed his way past NPC dialogue and only got the gist of what I just said!! I didn't think it was possible to meet someone that runs on autopilot IRL!!

"From a young age, my father instilled in me the importance of staying active and fit." Silver smiled fondly at the thought, ignorant to Idia's woes. “He set up obstacles courses and would give me chores that built up my strength. I’d also play tag with the animals when I wasn’t chopping wood or fetching pails of water for us.

“Sometimes Sebek would join me. We’d have a lot of fun together braving spiked pits, climbing cliffs, and surviving in the wild with only the clothes on our backs. We came out of it stronger in body, mind, and heart—they were very valuable experiences for us.”

Serenity never parted from Silver’s face the entire time he described his hellish childhood. Meanwhile, his interviewer had progressively grown paler and paler. Now he was the exact hue of a fresh corpse.

“Hmm? You don’t look too good, Idia-senpai,” Silver noted. Worry suddenly marred his gentle beauty.

He jumped. “N-Nope! I-I'm fine, my health is at max!!"

A lie—the entire interview had been mentally draining for the introvert.

"Are you sure?" Silver stepped closer, his expression turning deadly serious. “If you’re feeling unwell…”

Idia gulped. He wasn’t certain if he was overheating from the scorching May day or if it was his nerves getting the better of him.

“… You should work out with me and Sebek. I’m sure he won’t mind the extra company.”

A freight train slammed into Idia’s gut. He staggered back, mouth hanging open at the audacity of Silver’s suggestion, the one million and one things wrong with it.

"A-Are you crazy or what?! Th-There's no way I'd survive!! The only exercise I do is waving light sticks around for idol concerts, I can't handle anything more than that! P-Plus, a shut-in otaku like me can't deal with being shouted at just for existing, I’ll instantly fold!!"

“I understand, Idia-senpai.”

For a moment, his hopes welled. “A-Alright, GG. We’re done with the interview then. You can get going on the birthday road now…”

But much to Idia’s horror, the birthday boy continued.

“I also told myself, ‘I can’t do this’ and, ‘I want to give up’ when I first started my fitness journey—but throughout all my doubts, my father was there to support me, and Sebek was my friend and rival, motivating me to improve.

“At NRC too… I’ve met people who support me. I can ride a horse as well as I can because Riddle instructed me. I won an arm wrestling contest because my classmates cheered me on. There are many things I was able to do only because others were there for me in my time of need.”

“Where… are you going with this shounen anime protag speech?” Idia asked warily.

“It’s hard to do it alone, but you’re not alone at all, senpai. I will be there to cheer you on, and we can work together to help you accomplish wellness goals.” Silver stated matter-of-factly. “I believe in you, so please believe in yourself!”

“E-Eh…? Seriously, what’s with you… Is everything I’m saying going in one ear and out the other?”

H-How can one person be a literal beacon of light and goodness in the world?! Is Silver-shi really the kind of person who tries to empathize with even the characters fandoms unanimously hate? Would he walk up to a broom and try to shake its hand?

A firm pat on the shoulder snapped Idia out of his spiraling thoughts. He found Silver staring him down, an encouraging smile on his lips.

"I need to head off on the birthday road now, but I want you to know that you're always welcome to my workout sessions, and I'll always be in your corner."

"W-Wait," Idia stammered meekly, "I never agreed to take you up on your offer... P-Please tell me you won’t show up unannounced in my dorm to drag me outside…!!”

WHOOSH!

The Ignihyde dorm leader was silenced by a powerful kickback of magic to the face. The fire of his hair flew around him—and when the flames cleared out of his sight, he saw that Silver was already a dot in the distance.

Petals danced upon the breeze, as white as the clouds stretched across the brilliantly cerulean sky. Night Raven College was drenched in golden sunlight, and spring come out in full force. The day was as picturesque as an image straight out of a storybook.

Thrilled song filled the sky as a procession of birds joined him in flight. Pink, green, blue—a flurry of colored feathers as they hurried to Silver’s side.

One planted a light peck on his cheek, another nibbled on the ribbon trailing from his bouquet. The third paved his way, trumpeting the arrival of a prince, pure of heart, with his beloved animal companions.

It was as though Mother Nature's messengers had come out to wish Silver a happy birthday.

Idia was almost mesmerized by the sight.

Almost.

“Silver-shi really does belong in a whole new world… far, far away from me!!”

#twst #Silver #Idia Shroud #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #disney twisted wonderland #Silver birthday takeover #something no one asked for #spoilers #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios #I made various anime references in this one www #Silver really is too good for NRC

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.58 Still scared

I appreciated her asking, but the question blindsided me and I hesitated to answer. The issues that still haunted me were mine to work through, and I didn't want to burden her with them. The last thing I wanted to do was make her feel even the slightest bit of regret. But I couldn't lie to her and say everything was fine. No matter what I wanted or how I presented it, this burden would always inevitably end up at her feet. She had always handled me and my hesitations with grace, but I wished she didn't have to handle them at all.

"I'm going to be honest with you," I said, "but I don't want you to take it personally and think you did something wrong, okay?"

"Of course. Okay."

I inhaled deeply and bared my soul.

"Being here with you gives me so much joy. I am where I want to be. These feelings I have for you...I've been trapped inside myself with them for a while. You forced me to reckon with them in a way that both scared me and freed me. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't have concerns."

She nodded slowly, and I feared she still took offense despite my warning.

"You think this is a mistake?" she asked.

"No! Being with you is one of the best decisions I ever made, however scary and unexpected it was. But..."

I had shared many things about my life with Sophia, but I glossed over the painful parts in favor of keeping the mood light and not wanting her to feel sorry for me or whatever women did with men's drama. But I couldn't keep her in the dark forever.

"The thing is," I continued, "My parents are divorced. You know that. What you don't know is how it affected me. I didn't find out why they broke until I was well into my teenage days. I lived nearly my entire childhood wondering what happened and confused about why we couldn't be a family anymore, especially when my parents seemed to get along."

"My mom cheated on my dad for literally no reason. She was in love with another man their entire relationship, even though she said she didn't realize she had feelings for him until right before she cheated. But anyway...I was so devastated by that. Like, I just couldn't picture it. My mom? She was so perfect and magical to me. I just couldn't imagine her hurting my dad like that...hurting me like that..."

"And to be so flippant about it? Who decides to destroy their family like that??"

My face started getting hot, and I couldn't lose my cool, so I took a moment to calm down before continuing my sordid tale.

"Ever since then, bits of information about their relationship and past lives keep coming out here and there, and every time I think it can't get worse, it does. I feel like if this can happen to two people who were very happy and in love, what hope is there for me? I have zero reassurance that I can be happy with someone for the rest of my life."

I took another moment to breathe and reflect on everything I blurted out. If I didn't have Sophia and hadn't committed to being brave, I think my words could have hardened my heart. But I continued.

"My parents started dating, moved in together, and got married within a matter of days. One thing my dad said he would do differently was date longer. We've known each other way longer than my parents did, and even though it feels like we rushed into living together, I know that's not really the case. But I can't deny how familiar this feels. On one hand, I feel like we have a solid foundation and are well on our way to a long, fulfilling life together. But on the other hand, I feel like we're following in my parents' footsteps and are perfectly primed for repeating their mistakes."

"Wow," she said. "You never really told me about their situation. I figured it was just one of those things you didn't like talking about. I had no idea it was that bad."

"Now you understand why it took me so long to ask you out. I wanted to call you so badly immediately after getting home from Mt. Komorebi, but...I just couldn't. This fear paralyzed me. I only recently decided to work toward fighting against it."

"I understand, Luca. Trust me," she said with a little extra something in her voice.

I turned back toward her with my eyebrow raised, but she turned away from me.

"I am all too familiar with what you're going through," she said.

"Yeah?"

She nodded.

"Let's just say...I've been where your dad is..."

The anger that attempted to arise in me earlier returned, and I wanted to know names and addresses. What kind of idiot cheats on a sweet angel like Sophia??

"I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

"Yeah, thanks. I've had a lot of time to get over that, but like you, there are certain things I haven't been able to shake. And also like you, I'm working to grow past them. I asked you to live here because I know you're the man for me, and I am the woman for you. I love you, and I want you around. But...there is a tiny voice inside that tells me I need to keep you close so I can watch out for threats. I ignore it because I trust you, but it doesn't go away completely. So...yeah. I know what you're going through."

I completely missed the last part of what she said because my hearted pounded in my chest so loud I couldn't hear a thing when she admitted she loved me. SHE LOVED ME?!! The weight of her admission pressed down on me, filling me with a mix of exhilaration and terror. I wanted to reach out and hold her, to tell her how I felt and say it back, but the fear held me captive. I could share many things with Sophia with ease, but when it came down to exposing the deepest depths of my heart, I freaked out. The words got stuck in a huge knot in my throat. I swallowed a few times, trying to stuff down the fear that tried to choke me, but it prevailed.

"I...I want to say it back. I'm trying to... In my heart, I know that's what I feel, but..."

I longed for the words she deserved to hear to flow effortlessly from my lips, and it pained me to admit I wasn't ready. It hurt so bad I could feel the pressure of tears building up behind my eyes. But I couldn't cry in front of her. Not over this, especially after everything I'd just confessed to her. But she grabbed my hands and caressed them, giving me hope that one day I'd be okay enough to tell her exactly how valued she was.

"Hey...it's okay, Luca. Don't beat yourself up. I said it because I was ready, not because I wanted to hear you say it back. We don't have to be ready at the same time. I agreed with what you said about us rushing. It was a long time coming, but it was sudden no matter how you look at it. You need time to adjust, which was why I asked the question in the first place. Don't rush the process on account of me. When you're ready, you'll say it."

I don't know what I did to make the Watcher deem me worthy of such a woman, but I was eternally grateful.

"I'm glad you understand. You're a real gem and I..."

I tried to ignore her and force myself to say it, but it still wouldn't come out. Instead, I said, "I care about you deeper than I've ever cared about anyone."

She smiled.

"I will take that and cherish it."

Need to catch up? See what you missed or start reading here!

When I moved in Luca, I checked her relationships, whims, etc. to see what I'd be working with. She had the fear of being cheated on! We're still getting to know her, but what do you think?

#ISBI challenge #sims 4 story #sims 4 gameplay #adolting #adolting gen 3 #luca winston murillo #sophia aguilar

[deadprompts]

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙳𝙴𝙰𝙳 𝚂𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙾𝙽 𝟷 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂.

content warning applies. change any pronouns / wording if necessary.

there's us and the dead.

this is what takes us down.

the tragedy of their loss cannot be overstated.

i'm gonna get shit-faced drunk again

you should've seen the look on his face when i punched out his front teeth.

you're still a dumbass.

nice moves there, clint eastwood.

i think tomorrow i'm gonna blow my brains out.

y'all be more polite to a man with a gun!

zero tolerance for walkers.

that's the biggest lie there is.

we're safe here.

it's not a toy.

i know how the safety works.

keep drinking, little man.

do not enter the city.

bright side, it'll be the fall that kills us.

you may think you do but you don't.

living underground doesn't help; not knowing if it's day or night.

wish i could have done it a month ago.

friend, you need glasses.

there's good news?

it was worth every minute of it just to see that prick spit his teeth out on the ground.

i finally got the scrubbers in the east sector shut down to save power.

there were dozens of 'em.

eww. that's nasty.

maybe we got a second chance.

help me now, show me the way.

i didn't behave, i know.

screw you, man.

sometimes they fall short.

you take that stupid hat and go back to "on golden pond."

you the new sheriff come riding in to clean up the town?

cozy in there?

the only reason i got away was 'cause the dead were too busy eating my family.

i don't even know why i'm talking to you.

that's my boy.

this is our extinction event.

how far do you think i can chuck this, huh?

things are different now.

if you see anything, holler. i'll come running.

go on, tell me what to do.

hey kid, what'd you do before all this?

what are the odds, huh?

i know what i want to say.

i see a chance to make a new start.

i remember my dream now.

i ain't begged you before, i ain't gonna start begging now.

i know i'm being punished.

it wasn't my intention.

i can't let a man die of thirst.

i wanna see how red your face can get.

the world ended, didn't you get the memo?

we survive this by pulling together, not apart.

anybody that gets in the way of that is gonna lose.

it scares the fish.

thought i'd get to drive at least for a few more days.

i'll give you a moment to think about that.

i'm sorry this happened to you.

i'm old enough.

it belongs to the dead now.

maybe we'll get to steal another one someday.

nobody is gonna hurt you, okay?

they came out of nowhere.

saves me the embarrassment.

that's the bad news.

can i learn to shoot?

you pull the trigger, you have to mean it.

not many people get that.

bites kill you.

just...feeling very...off.

words can be meager things.

what he would or wouldn't do doesn't interest me.

what do you say to that?

guess the world changed.

the fever burns you out, but then after a while... you come back.

hell yes you're gonna learn.

you heard me, bitch.

the weak get taken.

there's no clinical progress to report.

still not sleeping well, can't seem to keep regular hours.

we gotta do it carefully, teach you to respect the weapon.

we are surviving here.

too bad i never studied engineering.

yeah, whatever, yee haw.

they might not seem like much one at a time, but in a group all riled up and hungry, man you watch your ass.

one thing i do know, don't you get bit.

we don't kill the living.

no crying in the boat.

i bet there isn't a single son of a bitch still listening out there, is there?

that's no way for anything to die, let alone a human being.

you don't know what it's like out there.

you're surrounded by walkers.

we don't have to be afraid anymore.

who voted you king boss?

we left him like an animal caught in a trap.

the line is pretty clear.

admit it, you only came back to atlanta for the hat.

i can see you make a habit of missing the point.

it's only a matter of time.

is this real?

there's us and the dead.

you got a problem?

there's too many of those things.

i never told them what i really thought.

i ain't so worried about some dumb dead bastard.

i'm a glass half full kinda guy.

it's the same as it ever was.

who the hell are you, man?!

#prompts #twd #rp prompts #rp sentence meme #rp sentence starters #rp meme #sentence starters #inbox meme #the walking dead rp meme #twd rp meme #apocalypse rp meme #apocalypse sentence starters #apocalypse rp #tlou rp meme #inbox prompts #deadprompts prompt

[wish-upon-a-crib]

EDIT: I'M STOPPING COMMISSIONS AS I'D LIKE TO FOCUS ON DEVELOPPING MY ART SKILLS MORE BEFORE I START TAKING COMMISSIONS AGAIN Hi all! I need to finish 5 commissions as a requirement for my graphic design class so I decided to open art commissions for the first time in my life. I'm opening five slots for now at this price and I will most likely up the price a little bit after the first five commissions so this here's a limited offer. Turnaround would be around a week. I know this is very simple art, but I'm quite busy during the week with school and work so I really don't have time to do any art during work days. Sorry I don't have that much to show as examples. I've been doing art for five years, but I don't do it that often and my previous art does not really fit the style I'm currently going for right now. Still if you'd like to see more of what I've drawn just say and I'd be more than happy to send you some more examples. I take mainly paypal or cashapp, but I can work with pretty much anything as long as I can figure it out. I'd like the payment beforehand. If you don't like the finished piece I'm willing to give you 50% of the money back, but please don't abuse this and lie, lets all be kind to each other. Lets keep this a kind, gentle and wholesome community. If you have any questions, please do feel free to message me or reply to this comment and I will reply as soon as I can. I have like zero presence as an artist so REBLOGGING THIS WOULD MEAN A LOT TO ME <3

#agere art #agere commissions #kidcore art #kidcore commissions #toddlercore art #agere #toddlecore commissions #chibi commissions #art commisions #commissions open #chibi art #chibi commission

[always-andromeda]

La Belle Fleur Sauvage for Brian Weathersby? I have seen absolutely ZERO nsfw for him and I am just DYING to see what your take on it is. Imma give you free range on this one bby. Tear it up 💖

Author's Note | ooooo boy...I have teeeeensy bit of a soft spot for Brian and it's purely because of how bad this man gets beat up in this movie...oopsie...thank you for giving me free reign though!!!! this concept simply kept bouncing around in my brain lmao.

Warnings | smut (MDNI), unprotected sex, overstimulation, nothing else I can think of!!

When you waltz in, Brian knows he's in trouble. He didn't even realize just have much time he'd wasted on paperwork. Normally he'd be counting down the minutes until he could close up the store and go home. But of course the one day he actually has plans outside of work is the day that about a dozen people decided that they needed a mattress.

Why anyone would decide they wanted a mattress about the cost of a used car, he had no clue. He still manages to sell seven mattresses. A good day. A very good day. Until you walked in, of course.

"Didn't think you'd be having this much fun without me," you tease humorlessly, approaching his desk. Stacks of papers litter the surface of his work station.

"I'm so sorry, I've been completely swamped today." Brian clicks the pen he holds and avoids your hard gaze. He tries again, "I meant to call and tell you I'd be late. But everything just..."

You finger runs up the length of a particularly large stack of papers, "Piled up?"

Brian sighs before giving you a purse lipped smile, "Something like that."

You nod once. Simply accepting the halfhearted excuse. Brian waits for you to say something else before you swivel around on your heels and begin to walk along the row of remaining mattresses on the sales floor. You hand presses down on each one for a few seconds, teasing the firmness as you seemingly decide it's too hard or too soft. He watches you with a quizzical look as you seem to finally find one you like. You press both hands on that one and bounce a few times.

Then you crawl up on it, that little dress you're wearing, riding up just enough so Brian catches a glimpse of the back of your thighs before you turn around and lie on your back. Deciding to entertain whatever you're trying to do, Brian gets up and slowly makes his way towards you.

He hears you breath out contentedly as you ask, "How much is this one, Bri?"

Brian chuckles. As if you'd ever be able to afford it. Nonetheless, he replies, "Ten grand." He's got practically every price memorized. There's not much else to do when he's surrounded by the numbers every single day.

You scoff, "Jesus Christ, who buys these?"

"People with money to burn, I guess."

Head raising for a few seconds, you smile slightly, "Wanna test this one out with me?"

"Test it?"

You rub the spot beside you, "Yeah, have you never actually tried one of these bad boys?"

Brian shakes his head defensively. But he still brings his knee up to the bed and carefully crawls up it. He doesn't need a ten thousand dollar bill to pay if it gets damaged in some way.

"Oh, don't be such a dork," you laugh and grab him by the collar of his dark sweater. Before he can possibly move in time, he collapses on top of you, knocking his nose into yours on the way down.

Your face scrunches up at the impact and you nuzzle your nose against his.

"Hi," your voice is small and sweet. There’s a pang in his stomach. Brian stares into your wild eyes and blinks hard when you draw your knees up and press them into the sides of his torso.

You add quickly, "Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?"

The sentiment nearly knocks the air from his lungs. He shakes his head solemnly.

"Really?" your thumb and index finger grab his chin, "That's a shame." you whisper. Your lips engulf his in a slow, lazy kiss as he closes his eyes and sighs.

Using the leverage from your knees, you make him flip around onto his back and straddle him. The little weight that you put on him presses him down into the mattress. He'd never really felt one of them. It's different, his full weight sinking into the luxurious cushion. He's not sure if he can feel the ten thousand dollars it would cost to own the mattress in its Swedish glory. But he can feel your hips grinding into his own. He feels himself harden at the sheer friction of your clothed cunt against him.

That dress does nothing to spare his imagination. Nothing keeps his mind from wandering as you hum into his mouth. Before he can think about it more, he's hitching your dress up a little further and undoing his belt.

"Oh?" you sit up properly so Brian can struggle to pull his pants down. "You really want to test this bed out, huh?"

Brian can only inhale deeply as you reach into his underwear and pull his cock out from the confines of the waistband. He has to stop himself from bucking into your hand. Just watches with bated breath as you lift yourself up, slip your panties to the side, line him up, and slowly sink down.

The way he stretches you hits sharply and Brian caresses your thighs until you're almost seated on him. His tip barely brushes something inside of you and your head lolls back as you adjust to the fullness. As disappointing as his time management was, this certainly wasn't disappointing.

Brian keeps his eyes clenched closed, concentrating on staying still for you. As much as he wants to move you, he stays as patient as he can, trying not to think about how warm you feel. How just a little bit of grinding had made you so ready for him. He tries not to let that thought get him too cocky.

Then you gently rock on him. You struggle to keep your knees planted firmly on the soft mattress so Brian takes it as his chance to hold onto you and help you bounce, thrusting slightly to meet your movements. He watches your face change as he digs deeper inside you.

"This good for you?" he asks quickly. 

"Yeah, just keep going," comes your breathy response. 

Finally, for a few seconds, he stops worrying about the forgotten date. About the mattress. About the ten thousand dollars. The only thing he hears are the squeak of springs and your heady moans. 

The coils in your own belly tighten impossibly. It all builds to a peak so quickly that you don't have time to prepare yourself for the impact. Your hands stable themselves on his chest.

Brian almost wishes he'd waited long enough to get fully undressed. The mattress is so soft and so warm. He already feels the sweat forming on his hairline as he gets higher and higher. And just as he thinks about the possibility of staining the mattress, your cunt contracts around him. Your hips convulse. You hold onto his sweater with balled fists. And with one last whine, you're there.

But you're still moving. Still riding him through the stinging overstimulation that makes you jolt and cry out. Wordlessly, Brian moves to take you off of him, but you hold on and stay seated.

"It's okay, Bri," you sigh, "Just keep going. Just...keep...going."

He's so close. And with you gently clenching him, he knows he doesn't stand much of a chance to last much longer. But he'd take the frustration of a missed orgasm over the way you wince in pain.

"No, no, get up," he says urgently, prying your knees away from his sides and pulling himself out.

Your hand immediately goes to pump his red and rigid cock. But he grabs your wrist and repositions it on his chest.

"Why won't you let me finish you?" you ask with a furrowed brow. 

Brian lets his head sink further into the bed as he thinks up an excuse. "I don't want to...stain the bed." He breathes hard, trying to ignore the empty ache between his legs and the hunger that still lies dormant in his belly.

You lightly slap his chest, "You're such a hard ass."

His chapped lips form a small smile, "I know. You can make it up to me after our second date."

"Second date? We didn't even have our first."

"This wasn't our first?"

"I can't believe you. The first time I fuck on the first date and he doesn't even cum," you say sarcastically and roll your eyes.

Brian sniffs at the small jab, "Take it as an apology."

You fiddle with a loose thread on his sweater and as he watches your fingers pick at it, the erection thankfully dies down. He's only had a little taste of you. And he wants more than a missed date and a quick fuck on a mattress that hundreds of other customers have laid on. So much more.

Brian clears his throat, "About the second date. Maybe we could have dinner at my place. I've been told I'm a pretty good cook."

"Oh, he's pretty, he can get me off, he can cook...what else can you do?"

"Je ne fais pas grand chose d'autre."

Your eyes light up, "Where have you been my entire life?"

Smiling once more and only offering a little laugh, his arm around your shoulder pulls you closer into his side. He wondered if the scent of your arousal would be enough to consider the mattress ruined. Yeah, then I'd take it, he thinks to himself as he eyes flutter closed.

#strange trails milestone✨ #danonation #paul dano #danocel #gigantic #brian weathersby #brian weathersby x reader #brian weathersby x you #brian weathersby x y/n #˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚

[alexjcrowley]

Watched The Extra Man (2010) and was pretty disappointed, not going to lie. I'm more sad than bitter about it. Let me explain.

When the movie started, I thought I was in for a treat. I genuinely thought this would have been a movie ahead of its time talking self expression and gender identity, it would have been one of those things I can tell people "it was far ahead". But, for me, it didn't do.

Let's start by talking about exploring gender identity/self expression. Now, I have just one problem with this point: I wanted more.

The premise of the movie is that it's a story about this guy, Louis Ives, who has an internal conflict with his gender identity, we could say. It felt to me like at some point, while writing the script, the screenwriters got way more interested in the character of Henry Harrison and derailed the movie. The scene with Louis at the bar was great, I loved that scene so much, I wish there could have been more scenes like that! The movie went in a very different direction than what I thought also in regard of Louis's personal journey, to the point I'd be inclined to say at the end of the movie things got more confused than when they started. I am not an expert on gender identity, I couldn't comment and that's why I won't comment on the way they represented Louis's internal conflict, what I can say is that I would have preferred much more time dedicated specifically to that subject and less to...I am sorry, but unlikable side characters.

Let's discuss the side characters, at least the main ones.

Mary is at best a poor stereotype of an animal activist and your classic "pretty girl will make the loser do stuff for her while she hangs out with the cool boyfriend". She is incredibly unlikable and this unlikability brings nothing to the plot. She is just horrible to Louis and this doesn't make Louis grow or anything, she is just there to do and say what everyone who has ever watched 5 romcoms can easily predict. She turns decent 10 minutes before the movie ends, it doesn't count.

Gershon Gruer, I have just one question: did we really need him? I guess he was a comic relief, but he didn't make me laugh, so. I preferred him when he just cycled. And he had the play in the end? Felt lazy.

Lois and Meredith were fine, actually. I liked Meredith a lot, and I liked her monologue about her childhood, but since you only ever seen her in that 10 minutes of the movie, it felt out of place. Like when someone who's drunk tells you their entire life because they're drunk, even if you don't know them. Good to know, Meredith, but what is this thing about your past meant to add to the plot?

Vivian was also fine. Very basic, but not bad.

I wished I could have seen more of Miss Hart.

And now, let's come to the real beast: Henry Harrison. The point is, I know what they were trying to do with Henry Harrison. It's an archetype I personally love. From Count Oliver straight out of the Alan Ford comic books to Monsieur Gustave in Grand Budapest Hotel, the impoverished aristocrat is one of my favourite type of characters (don't @me for "Gustave wasn't an aristocrat!", the concept of this kind of character is someone who tries to keep alive/uphold an old faded lifestyle they cannot afford in the name of an ideal, Zero at the end of the movie says something like Gustave had always been a part of an era already faded long time before). Fanny Button from BBC Ghosts is also a good example of this archetype.

Usually, this character is inherently funny, something about being overly formal and quaint and old fashioned. They make for great side characters. But Henry Harrison, this guy, he is unbearable. I mean it. I am sorry if some of you love him, you won't like what I have to say and you may prefer keep scrolling, but I need to talk about this guy. Yes, the fallen nobleman is usually a funny character and they can easily get on other characters' nerves, but they shouldn't get on the audience's ones. His entire comedic persona comes from being racist, homophobic, sexist and frankly a bit disgusting a lot of the times, also an absolute asshole. And as much as "having outdated beliefs" (let's put it very kindly like that) is a staple trait of the fallen nobleman, he is just irritating! The whole joke is that he is a terrible person. I can find him peculiar in the first 10 minutes he is on screen, then he just becomes a nuisance.

And that's the second problem with him: his screen time. This guy eats up an unbelievable part of screentime. At some point you forget it's a movie about Louis's conflict with wanting to dress up as a woman and it just becomes a movie about how poor Louis has to put up with this other guy. And you know what, since the title is "The Extra Man" maybe I am the dumb once, after all Henry, not Louis, is the extra man, I shouldn't be so surprised so much of this movie is about him. But he truly is a character hard to stand.

I am not one of these people who can't get interested in a story if the characters are "evil", if they're morally corrupted. Hell, Hannibal and Succession fan here, so. But the point is, in a show/book/movie/whatever where the main guy sucks, you need to give the audience a reason to care about him. Not even to like him, but at least to care. I don't give a fuck if Henry dies the most painful death ever. The guy I care about is Louis, who fades like a shadow in comparison to Henry.

"You don't understand, it's the Gatsby-Nick Carraway metaphor" no, no, I do. The point is in The Great Gatsby is fine becausr Nick doesn't really have any interesting situation going on for him (on the contrary, Louis has this complex relationship with his gender identity) and Gatsby not only is not an ass but he's also an interesting character. You want to know what happens to him, you want to unravel his mystery. I just wanted to hit Henry in the head. "His heart was broken" is a very lazy mystery to deserve an hour and 15 minutes of waiting to be discovered. Again, like Mary, he turns decent in last 10 minutes of the movie, and now, I am no screenwriter, but I honestly don't feel like calling that character growth. Henry Harrison feels to me like a bad copy of a boring copy of the fallen nobleman archetype. He could have been written so much better.

So basically I have beef with how they wrote characters and the way they divided up screen time. The acting is not bad at all, the movie is not badly directed, but I can't say it was memorable. Same for the cinematography.

The Extra Man looks to me, in most part, a movie that it's there, extra in the sense that it's not needed. It's a movie. It's not the worst movie. But, especially because it had an interesting premise, it comes out as excruciatingly mediocre and bland.

And I am you don't even know how sorry about it. I wanted this movie to be good. I really like cinema, I have watched movies that are considered to be slower and more boring than what The Extra Man is supposed to be, but I had a hard time finishing it. Not even my love for Paul Dano could save this movie. And I liked Louis as a character, I was invested in his story.

I am writing this knowing NOTHING about how this movie was received at the time and how it's considered today. If some of you disagree with me, because maybe Tumblr and Danonation have decided this is actually a masterpiece, please, don't kill me/insult me. If someone liked this movie I am genuinely curious to know why, I'd love to hear other people's opinion.

#the extra man #louis ives #paul dano #danonation

[definesanity]

Six Plus Two.

TW: Mentions of death, and Five being herself. That is, on the verge of suggestiveness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Life wasn't exactly yahoo at the moment.

I mean, for falling asleep after finally platinuming Drakengard 3 and then waking up in a field of flowers in a comfy chair, it could've been worse.

What's more, someone sat in front on you, leaning on his hands.

He seemed to be in his early twenties, with long, pure white hair and pale purple eyes. With a long overcoat, a large cape that draped over his shoulders and purple earrings, not to mention a plain white shirt that's definitely seen some better days, you're surprised he hasn't done a certain Skyrim joke yet.

"If you were expecting to awake in a carriage, then I'm sorry to have disappoint." he said smiling, his voice masculine with traces of femininity to it. "And, although I'd love to jest more, I'm guessing you're wondering where in god's name you are?"

"That certainly would be helpful, not gonna lie." you joked back, and his slight smile helped to break the oddity of the place around you two.

"To be completely honest, explaining it all would take too long in one sitting, and I'm already short on time, so I'll ask straight up: say if you were to suddenly drop into the land of the Intoners, what would you say?"

"...Which Branch is it?" if it was A, then you're fucked. B, C, D or E? Even more-so.

"Branch G. The previous one, Branch F, was where I originated from. My reason for being in this timeline is, well... Accord, simply put."

"...Wait, you're serious?"

"What, you thought I wasn't?"

You shook your head, laughing nervously. "No no no, it's not that! I just thought I was having one hell of a wacky dream, that's all!"

"Well, I don't blame ya for that one; this is the type of dream a person would have after a long day of gaming, after all." he chuckled lightly, before blinking, his eyes gaining a small light to them. "Ah, right, where's my manners?"

He placed a hand towards you. "Loux Corcea Gladiolus: at your service, my liege."

You paused. Wasn't it Corcra that meant purple?

...Eh, languages are different here. And besides, it's only a small error. Corcea and Corcra are incredibly similar to one-another, so...

You took, shaking slowly. "I'm... well, just call me whatever you prefer, I suppose. I'm not picky."

"Hm, that so?" he retracted his hand. "Well, kid, as you're probably really confused, ask away."

"What in the heck do you mean, 'drop into Drakengard 3'?"

"Oh, is that what they call it in your world?" he looked surprised for a second, before remembering the question. "Ah, right: it's exactly what it sounds like; again, very long story, but to make it short... well, ever heard of a little something called 'reincarnation'?"

"...I'm reincarnated?"

You're not the one for lying, so you're not going to; that's pretty damn cool.

"Indeed; to put it briefly, in this world, there exists a God who sent the Intoners down to keep the peace they made as their envoys, and whom they revere... and, well, in Four's case, very aggressively. Said God is called Llizel, The God of Peace, The Peacekeeper, The War-Stopper, The Victor, The Leader, among many more titles."

You paused, taking in what you heard. So, you're the reincarnation of a God.

"Neat." you replied, and Loux laughed lightly in response.

"I thought as much; of course, Zero is the black sheep of the family still, so don't worry about that."

"...Wait, will I get killed by Michael? Because, well, you know," you pointed to your face. "God, and all that?"

"Rest assured, the Dragons are allies with Llizel; you'll be fine."

"...So, I'm a peacekeeper..." you said slowly, "...Without any weapons?"

"Well, you answered your own question there, kid." Loux joked, but raised a hand to continue. "Don't worry; the Staff of Llizel, a staff of unparalleled magic, will be your instrument of protection. Including, if you want, my own power."

"And, what? You can control wind?"

"No, that was my previous life," he opened his hand, and a ball of electricity generated in it, arcs of violet lightning perfectly controlled. "In this life, I control lightning. Think Palpatine, or Cole Macgrath."

"...While I want to ask about that first bit, I'll leave that be for now. Besides, how would you be able to do that?"

"I'll let you have some reign over my power, while I stay as a sort of 'ghost'. Sort like, oh, what's-its-name... the thing someone made? About a skeleton sharing their Soul with a child trying to rebuild their Universe?"

"...I think so?"

"Brilliant; stand up, it'll be quick."

You did as he asked and he came over to you, leaning down. In front of you, you saw that he was tall. He placed his hand to your head and, after a small static shook, he pulled it away.

"There, quick and easy. Try it out."

Shrugging, you pointed your hand forwards--

--And jumped back as a bolt of fucking lightning nearly hit Loux.

"...Yep, it works!" you smiled, putting your thumb up. Loux returned the gesture.

"Great, now he can go." he then paused again, and then snapped his fingers. "Oh, right! Hang on, I believe I have your staff here somewhere..."

He reached back into his coat (which you silently thought was like a certain half-gaint's from a certain British book series), and after a second, he presented you a beautifully designed staff, engraved with a white gemstone at the top, with the bottom of it appearing to be curved and made of steel.

"Your staff, my liege?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You know, with all that happened, a costume change was the last thing you were expecting.

But, lo and behold, when you appeared, you wore clothes that were so high quality you actually felt bad for wearing them. That, and also a hood.

The guards didn't take kindly to you, but nor did you to them. A shame, really, even after you tried to compromise...

Your staff, which you've had for the last five minutes, was already like another part of you. Not to mention it housed a very, very large array of magic at its disposal.

"W-Who is this guy?!"

"They must be helping the demon! Kill them!"

"Wait, their face... it looks like the Peacekeeper's!"

The soldiers also talk a lot. And, are quite a lot in numbers.

From behind you, Loux chuckled softly to himself, his figure transparent and floating, observing the circle of soldiers that encircled you both. "Hm, I wonder... have they noticed our trap yet?"

"What do you mean by that?" you whispered back, and the mysterious man chuckled.

"Remember what the Finisher of the Smoke power is from 'InFAMOUS: Second Son'?"

You blinked, remembering... and then smirking.

"Showtime." you muttered, as you launched quickly into the sky. Looking at Loux, he nodded, before his eyes grew wide.

"Shit, murderous lady at twelve o'clock!"

Looking down, you saw what he meant: Zero was fighting the soldiers below you. And you were flying towards them.

"OI, ZERO! MOVE IT!" you yelled and, thankfully, she seemed to have noticed you coming towards her at high speeds and dodged just as you landed into the ground, a shockwave in your wake.

Looking up, your hood down, you placed your hands up towards Zero and prayed she wouldn't just kill you. "I'm not here to fight you."

It worked, thankfully.

"...Llizel?" she asked, both of her rose-coloured eyes looking at your own. She looked almost shocked, but then invoked her sarcasm. "Well, look who decided now would be a good time to prevent a war."

"I would've been here sooner, if not for complications... and, how do you recognise me? I thought I wasn't as, should we say, 'spread'?"

Zero rolled her eyes, walking past you, with yourself following. "With my sisters, you should know by now. And if you're here to stop me from killing them, then I hate to burst your bubble, but I'm not going to."

"And how will killing them help?" you shot back, your knowledge on the game coming back at full force. "You of all people know that you can't take them all on at once, not to mention you won't be able to just kill the Flower--"

She stopped, them looked back at you. "How the hell does someone like you know about the Flower?"

You rolled your eyes. "The Flower is all the chaos and discord in the world, Zero; it's only natural that I know about it, given I'm its polar opposite."

In truth, Loux was quickly whisperings information to you, but even you can pull shit out of you own ass.

"Well, that's all well and good, but what the hell do you mean, 'just be able to kill the Flower'?"

"The Flower, their Angels; both the same thing. Kill the Angel, you stop the Intoner and kill a part of the Flower. Not only that, but the Flower and them have two separate sources of their strength." you sighed, shaking your head. "I know it's rich, coming from a God, but for once, have some trust."

Zero chuckled. "Want to know what happened the last time I put my trust in someone?"

"Well, my eyes aren't indigo, are they?" you replied dryly, with Zero stopping, her eyes flashing various emotions, with anger being among the most common.

Finally, she sighed deeply. "Fine, oh 'God of Peace'. But the moment that you're wrong? I'll kill you myself."

Loux let out a small laugh. "Good luck with that."

"The hell do you mean?" you asked back.

"Ah, don't worry. Hopefully, we might not see it."

"...Who the hell are you talking to?" Zero asked.

"Huh? Oh, right, you can't see him." you gestured to where Loux was. "He's basically the guy helping me with the whole..." you zapped a bolt between your fingers. "Lightning powers."

"...Well, thanks for nearly getting me killed, dumbass."

"A pleasure."

"He said 'a pleasure', by the way."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally, finally, you got to the battle.

And, to say the least, the Intoners knew who you were, and that you'd already arrived. Then again, you weren't exactly subtle...

"Llizel?" Five asked from on high, her beauty still enchanting, even more now thanks to actually being living. "My oh my, Sister, I never took you for being so fast!"

"My Liege, you must help us stop Zero, we're sisters!" Four interrupted her, her mask hiding what she truly felt. "I know it's arrogant of me, but please, you must!"

"Oh, don't be such a prude, little sister!" Five chastened Four, and then licked her lips, looking at you as if you were the finest meal she's ever seen. "After all, a good catfight really gets my juices flowing~..."

Three didn't say anything; although, she did lazily laugh.

"Oh, wow, Zero and Llizel! Hey there, you two!" Two waved to you both, smiling as she did so... then she frowned, snapping her fingers. "Aw, if I had known both of you were going to be here, I'd have worn something more professional..."

One was silent. However, the twitch of her eye told you everything you needed to know.

"...So, not only wanting to kill your own flesh and blood, but you decided to even trick The Sustainer as well?" One coldly asked, red eyes piercing into her older sister. "You truly are despicable, sister."

"Trick?" Zero shot back, tilting her head with a wry grin. "Funny, because they came to me to help me."

"Do not act coy with me, Zero!" snapped the blonde, even more angered now, before turning to face you, her face softening.

"Hoo boy, here we go..." muttered the spirit next to you.

"Please. Do not involve yourself in such pitiful drivel, Peacekeeper. Keep to one side; this shan't take long."

Two, Three, Four and Five then dropped down, and Zero rolled her neck. "Oh, it won't, alright..."

Up close, the fight is much more intense than what we saw on your TV.

However, as you walked forward to observe, you found yourself distracted by Five's... 'distractions'. You know that her increasing factor is her breasts, but for God's sake...

A sharp pain then came over you, causing you to gasp. Looking down, you saw the edge of Two's sword. Looking over your shoulder, you saw a pale-faced, horror-struck Two.

"...Ow." you simply said, before your legs gave out.

...It's not as bad as you thought, honestly. In fact, you swore you could see light beaming into your eyes, trying to get you to open them--

You choke, suddenly finding yourself standing up, outside the Central Cathedral, very much alive, with Zero looking wildly about.

"What the fuck?" she muttered to herself, before turning sharply and facing you. "What the hell just happened?"

"That, was what I feared." Loux admitted from your right side. "You see, this world is a video game to you, yes? Then, by that logic, these so-called 'Checkpoints' would also exist, and bring you back to your last 'Save.'"

"From what our invisible friend here said," you faced Zero, nodding. "If I was to die, time would rewind back to my last Checkpoint, or 'major point', in my life; in this case, just before your fight with the other Intoners."

"Huh, is that right?" Zero rolled her eyes ('Still odd to see that,' you privately thought). "Well, try not to die again, will you? I have a job to get done."

"...Say," you asked, looking at her. "How come you, not so much as trust me, but at least listen to me?"

"This shit again?" irritability, she started moving towards the fight with her sisters. "You already know; as your envoys, we can't not trust you, as annoying as it may be."

"...I see. So you're still not convinced."

"No shit I ain't."

You walked next to her, tilting your head. "Then what will it take to change your mind?"

"Staying alive would be a start. Then we'll talk about that goddamned Flower."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The same interaction happened, although this time around, you decided to step in. From Loux's expression, he seemed glad to have a companion who could get things done.

"One." you began, looking up curiously at the red-eyed Intoner. "What happened with peace?"

Gesturing to Zero, you continued. "I understand that you don't want to forgive your sister, but she deserves to live just as much as you do."

One looked at you. So did the Intoners, of various expressions. Finally, One turned to Zero, a cruel smirk on her face. "Ah, I understand it now; since you couldn't fight all of us on your own, you instead brainwashed Our Liege to help you. Am I right?"

"No, you're off by a fucking longshot." Zero replied dryly. "Me, brainwashing a God? Do you realise how stupid you sound right now, One?"

"...I was afraid this might happen."

One looked to her sides, nodding. "Sisters: defeat Zero, and save the Peacekeeper!"

"Oh, grief..." Zero muttered, then looking at you from the corner of her eye. "Ready, kid?"

You nodded, flipping your staff to use it as a spear. "Aye; try not to kill them."

With that, you shot forwards, and immediately crossed spears with Five, who smiled sultry at you, golden eyes twinkling.

"Not even going to invite me out to dinner~?" she teased, swiping your left side and causing you to jump over her (wow, anime logic!) and hitting her spear again.

"Honestly, I was hoping we could be talked over tea, but I guess it just has to be like this?"

"Sadly, I suppose... oh well!"

Five was a powerful opponent, surprisingly; with her fast responses and flexible attacks, an opening was almost non-existant.

Unfortunately, Loux doesn't like things going to shit, it seems.

Lightning forming in your other hand, you fired a bolt directly into Five's chest, causing her to fall over clenching it.

"Sorry, I hope you understand!" you smiled at her, and then flipped your staff right-way up again. Testing the waters, you imagined a fire--

--And from the ground surrounding Two, who was currently fighting Zero, fire erupted, causing her to yell and jumping backwards into Three, with the two scrambling to get back up.

"I don't wish to fight any of you!" you declared, holding your arms out. "If you trust me, then please, stop fighting your own flesh and blood!"

"You don't understand, My Liege!" Four called back, shaking her head. "Zero--something happened to her! She isn't the same Zero I once knew, and nor the one you would recall!"

"Oh, shove it already, will you?!"

A brief second later, they all jumped back up.

One walked forwards, raising her hand...

"Here it comes..." Loux tapped his fingers against his arm.

"Gabriella!" One called, snapping her fingers.

"Wait, what?"

From the skies descended not a Daemon, but One's Dragon, the ever-so sassy Gabriella.

"Well, well, well... never thought your God could get brainwashed so easily, One." Gabriella spoke, and from the cold fury in the second-oldest Intoner's eyes, she thought the same.

"Oh, so this thing is still kicking, huh?" Zero drawled, twirling her sword. "What are you going to do, kill me?"

Famous last words.

Gabriella immediately flew into the air and shot multiple fireballs at her, but you quickly erected a shield in front of you both. Silently praising your staff, you glanced at Zero.

"I fear we won't be able to fight this Dragon." you admitted, and Zero scoffed, clearly offended by the idea of it.

"You're a God, aren't you?! Can't you just summon a tornado?!"

You turned her head to her, your eyebrow raised. "I'm a guy fresh out of college, with a strange medical condition. But, since you insist..."

The Staff of Llizel, once again providing support, helped you appear in the air and, at your mental image, summoned an array of spears constructed from lightning (because when the going gets tough, steal your comrades powers).

However, in the end, things continued as Branch A did: Zero's arm was blasted off, Michael came in to help her, but was killed, and Zero had vanished.

Observing with a curious gaze, Loux turned to you, feet on the ground. "You've surprised me. I had expected you to a little... different, should we say."

"Thanks, I like to defy expectations." rolling your eyes, you slammed your staff into the ground, creating a dust field and allowing you to follow after Zero.

"Well, don't stop now, will you? I quite like people with a brain."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Update:

The Singularity known as Zero has appeared to have joined forces with the Singularity, who's alias is 'Llizel', and the Singularity of Branch F, Loux Corcea Gladiolus.

As a shift has already been detected in this timeline's events, I shall continue to observe at a distance, should anything go astray.

G_379_248_101_YD: Begin Recording.

#ryuusei's works #drakengard 3 cult au #sadau #drakengard 3 #loux corcea gladiolus #one drakengard #two drakengard #three drakengard #four drakengard #five drakengard #zero drakengard #tw: death

[my-mt-heart]

This is bleak, forgive me. But... Beyond AMC saying they hope to see Carol in the future in TWDU and N.R. saying Caryl may meet up again on Fallon show, and that Caryls story isn't over at SDCC, is there confirmation that Carol doesn't die in 11c? I'm increasingly worried that that is what is happening. Its hard for me to trust those statements as confirmation. AMC has lied about big things nobody thought they would lie about. And they could mean something like an episode on Tales, which could occur in the past. And what are they going to say, anyway, if they did kill her character off? They can't spoil it. They'd either have to avoid the questions altogether (as they're doing now) hedge, or lie. I think N.R. likely means 11c with his "story not over" comment. And who knows or can believe his statements on Fallon in the heat of the initial announcement fallout, when he also said Mcbride needed a break, which remains unconfirmed at best. The "heartbreaking" comment on TD and "emotional" time filming comment at SDCC doesn't necessarily point to bad things happening (I agree, could be very, very good), but also could signal very bad things. (Although his weird choice of "uplifting" to describe final episodes in interview after SDCC potentially mitigates that too). And its easy to see why Gimple would do it. They are known for shocking fans with unexpected and big deaths in years past. They are going to want big pathos, and at least one Glen-level or even bigger death in 11c, I would think. And aside from maybe Judith or Daryl himself (for many), the death of Carol would probably be the most shocking and emotionally devastating. I can also see the narrative irony in a character who has had such a death-wish in the past starting to come out of that and then promptly dying. In a way, she's more than prepared and has made foreshadowing comments on the show, like before the Find Me fight with the "lucks run out" comment. And many TWD fans still think Carol hasn't made up for actions in season 10 (imo, they're wrong that she needs to, but still). Her death, especially if it's a self-sacrificial or resulting from some equally noble act, would absolve her and serve as (totally unnecessary and undeserved) atonement. They have isolated her, relatively, in importance to most other characters accept Daryl, with death of last child and separation from Zeke finalized. And of course the big thing-- her death would cause Daryl immense pain, enough to retreat from the rest of the group like he does when he presumes Rick is dead- only this time on a mission to France in service of the group, who knows fuckall what for. And then AMC can make Caryl canon for two seconds in 11c before she dies, and say we gave you canon, and still have fans feel sorry for Daryl and his pain, and support his reinventing himself while running from fast walkers and dodging explosions on his bike in France, and probably seeking solace in one or more hot young things down the line in the series. It does not seem beyond Gimple to martyr the beloved female lead to achieve a 'blameless' and totally clean slate for the Daryl character, in order for him to do the TNT-style show he seems to want. I'd love, and I mean love, to have you or someone else put this possible theory to rest and out if my mind, with hard confirmation--- or at least some very persuasive rhetoric. ;)

I can write a whole essay on why it makes zero narrative sense for Carol to die and I will if that's the kind of persuasive rhetoric you're looking for. But if that feels too theoretical, there are bts photos that strongly suggest she makes it based on her hairstyle and wardrobe. *Maybe* there's an alt where she dies, but I think in the aftermath of all the spinoff drama, AMC has to know it'd be in their best interest to keep the possibility of seeing her again open.

#caryl #carol peletier #melissa mcbride #darylneedscarol

[theroadtofairyland]

All the suicide stuff was really worrisome. I hope you’re doing better 💕

I'm sorry. I was getting dogpiled. It was overlapping with what is my greatest fears. It was terrifying being homeless. It took 7 months to find a person who'd rent to me. I'd been declined over and over for less expensive places because I didn't have credit. It's worse now.

During that time I was assaulted, sexally and physically, robbed and it is so awful often not knowing where you are going to sleep.

The two overlapping...I just thought whatever chance I might have had was ruined by trolls telling some of my loyal supporters that I was a scammer who'd taken advantage of them. It couldn't be further from the truth but the ease that people accepted lies as fact shattered me.

Worse still people who said they support me kept telling me I needed to get a job. As if I don't have one already and people who do have jobs always make enough. Aside from being insulting and condescending it seemed like they didn't understand what they were actually saying. Give up art. Because no I can't paint and work 40 hours in addition. I've tried and I didn't paint for 3 years. Moreover one was a person whose personal blog revealed that she wanted to make art but there was zero evidence that she in fact did make art.

The prospects for my future have been imperiled, it felt like the community that had once embraced me as a valued artist had completely turned on me and I just couldn't anymore. My mom is here so I was dizzy on benadryl.

I had to face the next day which I didn't want to.

Isn't the whole point of this kind of cyberbulling, doxxing in an intentionally misleading manner intended to drive the victim to despair and it was done successfully.

I have been going through hell these last 5 years and some asshole writing me into an antagonistic fan fiction robbed me of my own story. I'm proud that I made it through. I'll be proud if I can make it through this. I'm also incredibly proud of my work. I'm proud of learning to make my own paints. It's beyond bizarre women who identify as feminists would want to lie and dismantle my reputation when one would think supporting more women artists should be a cornerstone of feminism in the arts.

[mugenloopdalove]

I honestly don't know if therapy would help you at this point. You are so closed off from personal responsibility and realizing you need to change your mindset. Therapy isn't an easy fix, it's a tremendous amount of work and it's uncomfortable. You say you can't think of any other hobbies and you'd be bad at them forever anyways?

You've given up before even trying if thats your mentality. Nobody picks up a hobby because they want to be amazing at it. They pick it up because it might be fun. I recently picked up guitar (I've never been in music classes) so I could play some real simple stuff at the camp fire and I'm NOT good. But it's nice to just play a simple song next to the fire. If someone told me I was good at it I'd be insulted cus I know it's a lie.

It really doesn't matter if your brother was good at football in high school. You were in highschool a full decade ago it's time to move past the jealousy of the 'gifted' sibling. He's not worrying about being good at something he enjoys because it doesn't matter in adulthood unless it's your literal job.

You beg for strangers online to tell you you are good at something and then when people come up with things you are good at you shoot them down. Nobody responded to your writing because the vast majority of people following you are in similar timezones to you and you buried your writing reblogs with 1 million other posts so how is anyone to even see them? You victimize victimize victimize and never entertain changing your personal mindset which is the only way to stop your spirals.

Most people don't even post about their hobbies online because they are just doing it for fun not for praise.

I mean like. There's seriously nothing new I can think of that doesn't cost insane amounts of money that I don't have rn??? Like. If people have suggestions cool!!! I'd love that!!!

And it's funny bc I had an excellent therapist that was helping in 2019 but she retired when lockdown happened bc she did not want to do virtual appointments and was pretty fuckin old. I just haven't found the right therapist since.

And sorry but i cannot be content being bad and everything I try. I can have hobbies just for fun. I do Kandi just for fun. I play games just for fun (for the most part). Hell one of the games I was the worst about years ago (overwatch) I now just play and am like PROUDLY shit at. I know I'm garbage but tbh being garbage at overwatch feels more fun than trying to be some stupid pro to me. I love being garbage at fighting games to. My brother MELTS me anytime we play ANY fighting game bc hes a decently ranked comp player and im a button masher. And I'm cackling the whole time.

My problem is there not ONE THING I am good at to me. Nothing. And having a relative that can pick up anything and ace it gets frustrating and makes me wonder what I'm doing wrong that I struggle to be good at anything after YEARS, let alone instantly.

No one in the past 24 hours has told me I'm good at anything but being a friend which... if that's the case. Why do i have zero irls. Why can't I connect with others at all.

And I refuse to believe NO ONE AT ALL saw that writing I posted. It's not possible. I have 150 followers and I don't think I posted much that day until I got upset that it was being so overlooked.

[dzpenumbra]

5/21/23

Alright, we're in for a doozy today. That's one of those words I've heard my entire life but never actually seen written before. Doozy. Weird.

I got to bed a bit late. Like... 7ish. My sleep schedule is just full-tilt nocturnal now. I see every moment of darkness, from dusk until dawn. Tooootally not a subconscious night-watch I-don't-feel-safe-because-I'm-alone-in-this-world PTSD thing. Tooootally.

Here's the crazy part. I had the thought... "what if I just moved to another time zone that my sleep schedule is synced to, then I'd be set." But nope, from experience... my sleep just adjusts to that time zone's day cycle.

I was woken up at 10 AM. I was woken up to loud bangs and stomps above me. Around 11, the sounds started escalating dramatically. Like it legit sounded like people were throwing things onto the floor (my ceiling), zero concern for disturbing neighbors at all. On a Saturday morning. Then... the hammers and power tools started. And it went for at least an hour. I was livid. For the first time, I actually banged on the ceiling. And... I've been doing that whole "I should be better" abuse victim thing where I've just been feeling nothing but pure shame and guilt about it since. I'm so tired of it. None of these motherfuckers have an ounce of remorse for any single time they've been obnoxiously loud. Not a one. They're probably not even aware. If they were made aware, they most likely would either get angry, call me a bitchy asshole or lie by saying they're "sorry" and dismiss it outright.

I'm still a bit cranky, in case you didn't notice...

I'm upset that I feel so much guilt and shame and like... "I should be better" when I even sneeze or creak a floorboard at 4AM. Because I don't mind making some accommodations for others, so we can all peacefully coexist, it's part of being in a community.

I went downstairs, started up my computer and started typing up an email to the manager of my building. And I struggled to even phrase what I was saying. Because I had a feeling what was happening upstairs was actually building maintenance. Like... the maintenance guys from the building itself. And I was just putting it on my upstairs neighbors, because they're regularly loud. But honestly, I have no idea. I just... I didn't take the risk of bitching at the landlord for like... normal maintenance on the building during what people consider normal hours for loud noise. Which happened to be 3 hours into my sleep cycle, which had me wake up shaking and sweating and freaking out.

I was going to ask my landlord to give me a little notice before there was going to be really loud noise like that, so I can plan accordingly. I have no fucking clue why they would do that without informing the adjacent units. That just makes zero fucking sense to me. Just a simple email on the building email system "Hello Unit ___, we need to do maintenance on an adjacent unit at this time on this day. We're sorry for the inconvenience. Just giving you a heads up." Like, legit, I can survive with the noise. It was the fact that it caught me completely off-guard. And I have fucking trauma issues. And I think one of the reasons why I didn't send the email was... I've been forced to explain and justify myself on stuff like that before.

Now... I think asking my building to give me at least a day's notice when they're going to be doing maintenance using power tools... so I can plan accordingly is... not too much to ask. My logical brain believes that, it came up with the damn plan. But my emotional, protective reflexes say... "hey, when the fuck has that ever worked? And... hasn't that gone horribly wrong for you in the past?" And... the trick with having an anxiety disorder... that overlaps with trauma... Especially patterns of trauma... is that it actually validates the anxiety.

Let me explain - So... say you're afraid of spiders. And your friend wants you to go into a basement with them, where spiders might be. And you are mortified because of spiders. No real first-hand experience, but just... in general, the concept of spiders makes you really fearful. And your friend encourages you to go and prove that fear wrong, and they offer to be supportive (in my unfortunate life experience, this is exceptionally rare, but go with it...) and they offer help you learn that spiders aren't that bad. They're just weird, and most are completely harmless. And you suck it up and muster all your courage and you go. And a black widow lands on you and bites you. And you go to the hospital and everything is fine but like... it's one of the scariest nightmare kinda things of your life. Now, take this scenario... and imagine it happening 3 or 4 separate times... with different friends, but every time going wrong. Imagine how hard it would be to get yourself to go back into a basement. With anyone. After that. When anxieties start to mesh with a trauma narrative like that... which often is really just a series of synchronous unfortunate flukes... in d20 games we'd call them rolling a Nat 1 or Crit Fails.

When anxiety starts to get a consistent narrative with empirical facts to back it? The two parts of the human mind - the subconscious and the conscious - actually come into alignment. They start to agree. So... with anxiety, a big problem with it that I've experienced is the cognitive dissonance of your subconscious instincts (anxieties) being in direct opposition to your conscious narrative (logic). And that can create a lot of inner conflict, frustration, depression. But that opposition, when you learn to have healthy inner-conversations with yourself, is actually the key to moving through anxieties. In my experience, of course, as though that even needs to be said... I mean, how could I write from another person's perspective... XD So, with that said... the subconscious and conscious minds coming into alignment and agreement is obviously the end goal... but if the logical mind... is given a bad picture? Like... skewed data? And the logical mind aligns with the anxiety? Shit gets fuckin messy. And I've got a lot of issues with that, with all the weird, surreal unhealthy social situations I've been in.

So... I didn't send the message. Because I was afraid I would offend or upset my building manager by talking shit about the maintenance dude. Or I would get him yelled at. Or, worst case, make my building manager think less of me, or even get angry at me, which could lead to her not wanting me to live in the building anymore. Then my housing is in jeopardy, which means my life is in jeopardy. I'm not even kidding you, this is what my brain strings as a narrative. And in my experience of it, it's really like that cartoon of the devil on the shoulder just whispering into your ear, but in my mind's eye he's more like... somewhere around the inside back right of my skull. And he's telling me this, and I'm sitting there with a thousand yard stare just slowly nodding and like... "yeah, that makes sense, that checks out... we wouldn't want that... I don't mind just sucking it up. I don't want to make a scene." Because... in my experience... when I speak up and air grievances with people who either have power over me, or think or act like they have power over me... Really hurtful shit happens to me. And it has been frequent and consistent. So... if you've ever accidentally burned your hand on a stove before? And then years later you reach over towards the counter because you're off-balance and you see your hand go towards the coil and you immediately, reflexively, without questioning, go "NOPE, NOT THERE." That's the kinda reflex I'm working with, I think. And that shit like... it's deep. It's like... a few steps above hit-your-knee-with-a-rubber-mallet reflexes in the neurological evolutionary chain.

Not long after, I was in the comfy chair again. Window open, AirPods in, noise cancelling on. I had a stream on with... unfortunately... that guy who was playing the real police videos the other night. No one else was on. The GTA5 RP scene I fell asleep after... he deliberately took out an M16 for the Commander's funeral, the commander was a comedy character, so he wanted to do a whole 21 gun salute and viking funeral by lobbing him in a hearse into the ocean. And it was a funny premise and it was chill. Then he shoots a dog in the evidence room for no reason but shock value. Then he goes to respond to a shots fired call... with the M16 drawn... at a gun store shooting range. And the lady turns in a panic towards him with her gun drawn on him, so he... point blank, puts 2 rounds in her head. The timing was fucking surreal that it just happened to sync up. And that scene itself wasn't the most disturbing thing in the world. I mean, it's upsetting and all. But what really got me was him going on and on for like 10-15 minutes after with all the cops and with the hospital staff after arriving to just make it super public and loud that this was a "clean kill" and shit. And... that's his character. That's the character he plays. So... I mean, I can't really get upset by that, I literally chose to put his stream on! XD I can just change the channel if I don't like it! But that whole like... playing on current political and social issues as a way of drumming up controversy and outrage really rubs me the wrong way. I find it really tacky and low-hanging fruit. I find it the RP equivalent of like... calling an autistic person the "r-word". So yeah, I'm not a big fan of that. You can do shock value in more creative ways, in my opinion, it just kinda feels lazy.

But what ended up happening was.. I fell asleep and I had insanely vivid dreams. Likely because the volume was really loud (to drown out the power tool noises) and right in my ears. And I was fucking there, man. And I... had that thing where I couldn't talk. Where I'd go to speak and it was like my lungs were empty and nothing came out. Like, here, let me demonstrate. Exhale fully right now and don't inhale for a bit, and pay attention to the feeling in your chest and throat, then try to push a little more air out. That feeling of not being able to, and the physical feelings too, kinda. Like that. And I was like... I was really trying to speak, I was really pushing. Because the dude was waving a fucking machinegun around! And... late tonight... I realized that since I had the noise cancelling on, and my window open... and was so insanely distressed... I was most likely talking very loudly in my sleep. I probably just couldn't hear myself because of the noise cancelling. XD And man, that's gotta freak the neighbors out, right? Hear me yelling in my sleep out my window about like "Captain, you don't need to bring the gun with you." "Please put down the gun, we don't need more problems." Shit like that.

Waking up from the hammering and power tools was upsetting and off-putting... but waking up from that night terror? I woke up clammy and tingling all over and like... sick feeling. And scared. And really upset, really disturbed. The whole day has been completely put off because of it.

Oh, here's a fun update - it's 5 AM and my upstairs neighbor is fucking vacuuming right now.

So yeah, today has been a bit of a shit show. I've barely eaten anything all day. I did do yoga though, which was a complete surprise to me. I groaned through it and I did not want to do it, but I got it done and it helped.

I also started a bead necklace, a really simple one. I dyed a bunch of beads yellow and strung them to dry, then flicked orange ink onto them in spots, then a reddish orange. So they're kinda speckled, like candy kinda. I dunno, I didn't know what to do for a simple design that wasn't painted. They should look pretty cool when they're coated, I think. I'm just so used to doing much more ornate things, looking over at it, it just looks really plain. But yeah, I'll figure it out.

I'm surprised but glad that even on a day as shit as today, I managed to get something productive done. I'm gonna go water my plants and head to bed now, and likely be woken up in a few hours by whatever visitors my upstairs neighbor is panic-vacuuming to prepare for.

Good vibes? I played a bunch of Risk of Rain 2 today, and I've been getting much better at it. It's getting a little repetitive, but it's fun for now and I've been enjoying challenge-hunting in it.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of thoughts #stream of consciousness