#life has proved me wrong and i no longer have the words to describe it

[wings-of-fire-confessions]

I honestly interpret ORCA-

As a flawed - and morally gray? - character, who is a daughter that grew up with a AWFUL - and probably and/or possibly abusive - mother

A mother who:

Neglected and didn’t care about Orca’s brothers because “They can’t inherit the throne.”

Who threatened to put a literal MUZZLE on Anemone when she complained ONCE about being attached to Coral on a harness 24/7.

Who would’ve used ORCA and her animus magic (that’s stated to thought literally deteriorate a dragon’s SOUL when used) as a tool and a weapon of war for Blister.

Who probably would’ve even make Orca Marry WHIRLPOOL, since Anemone - who was ONE years old and Whirlpool’s STUDENT - literally mentioned that she thought she HAD to marry Whirlpool until Tsunami arrived at the SeaWing Kingdom.

A dragon who Orca saw how AWFUL of a ruler that Coral is

A Queen who:

Literally YAWNED when she heard that one of her subjects died.

Worried about blood staining her floor from her scouts that she did NOT even CARE about that were literally DYING in front of her.

Cared more about her subjects reading her literature than ACTUALLY LEARNING HOW TO FIGHT AND SURVIVE ON THE BATTLEFIELD.

Probably produced GLORIFIED PROPAGANDA about herself for her subjects to read.

Who made a scroll about Oysters and Clams that literally promotes CLASSISM and “GENETIC SUPERIORITY”.

Made her subjects fight within a war for Blister - which will RISK and CAUSE the SeaWing’s deaths and give them IMMENSE amounts of physical and/or mental TRAUMA - INSTEAD of them hiding and living within the the Deep Sea Kingdom until AFTER the SandWing Succession War has ENDED.

With Orca wanting to kill Coral to NOT JUST to end Coral’s awful rule and negative impact on HER LIFE, but also on her SUBJECT’ LIVES as well, (possibly also in order for them to live in peace within the deep palace without suffering from the pain, trauma, and death of the war no longer.)

With Orca possibly wanting to win the loyal challenge for the throne in a “fair fight” in order to possibly prove to her subjects that she’s NOT doing it because she’s corrupted with power-hungry yearning for the power of the throne - but instead win fair and just in order to prove that she wants the throne in order to possibly have a better life and be a much fair and better ruler than Coral has been.

And Orca deciding kill any future heirs to the throne possibly due to fear and paranoia that the future heirs would possibly become like Coral - due to the propaganda spread by Orca’s mother and the rest of the tribe being internalized and/or believed by the heirs themselves - and kill Orca and become awful Queen to the Sea Kingdom, and also in order to live fixing the damage and/or awfulness of what Coral has done to the Sea Kingdom under HER rule as long as possible.

Because that’s honestly how I interpret her. And by remembering the how awful and a mother and queen that Coral really is AND remembering the final words that Orca said to her mother…makes this interpretation of mine honestly make sense.

“I did this all wrong. You’re going to rule forever, aren’t you, Mother? You should thank me. No one can stop you now.” - Orca, the SeaWing heir.

❗️You’re going to rule forever, aren’t you, Mother? (…) No one can stop you now. ❗️

To me, that quote did NOT come a power-hungry villain who wanted the power of the throne-

But INSTEAD from a young teenage daughter who wanted to put an end on her mother’s rule that is awful and tyrant in Orca’s eyes, to the point that Orca wanted and was literally planning to take over the throne AS SOON AS she became a literal legal YOUNG ADULT within her kingdom.

And to me, the reason why people probably DON’T view Orca in this way that I do, is because of the fact that CORAL - THE awful mother and awful queen of the Sea Kingdom - was the one who describe Orca’s motives. Orca’s planning and wanting to take the throne. The very SeaWing Queen who probably has flawed and biased interpretations towards literally everyone that she lays her eyes upon, including her own daughter, Orca, who wanted to kill Coral herself in order to take over Coral’s place on throne.

I’m SO sorry if I unintentionally glorified ANY of Orca’s bad and/or negative behaviors within this confession, I’ve been thinking about her character like this for a while.

I’m also sorry if I spelled anything incorrectly and improperly within this confession, I’ve been typing this for quite a while now.

Thank you for anymore for reading this analysis of this character who’s barely been mentioned within the books. I hope you have a good day/night :).

,

#wings of fire confessions #wof confessions #wof #wings of fire #orca #orca wof

[kindred-sims]

Will Barclay considered himself a very proud and determined man. He was also, as proclaimed by his wife, to be “far too stubborn for his own good”.

He supposed that all things considered, she’d been right to say so. Especially since it had led him here.

He’d always dreamed of this. Having his own home, his own farm. Growing up he’d loved to run wild, playing in the woods behind his home, going fishing with his friends and going out riding on his horse whenever the moment allowed it. But then, he’d gotten older. He’d been given more responsibilities, more demands. Gone were the carefree days of frolicking in the woods, as the moment he’d turned thirteen, he’d been put to work in his father’s store. It’d been expected of him of course, it was a family business after all – but there was only so much he could take when it came to standing behind a counter all day.

It just wasn’t what he wanted from his life. He knew that, he knew what he wanted and it wasn’t that.

And so, soon as he was old enough, he made up his mind. He was going to be a farmer, and he would do as he himself pleased. No one around to give him orders, no one to yell at him or complain.

Here, he felt free. And it was the best feeling describable.

Even if it was the reason he and his father were no longer on speaking terms. He’d not been at all pleased when Will had revealed his plans to travel out to Nevada and begin farming, why, even now Will could still hear the exact last conversation they had ringing in his ears:

“Do you know how hard our family has worked to get to this point? Do you?”

“You tell me all the time, Papa, I know--”

“No, I don’t think you do! Else you wouldn’t be throwing away everything we’ve given you so hastily like this, I just don’t understand it, boy! Why? What on Earth has gotten into you?”

“Papa--”

“And to drag your new bride into all of this, I really just don’t understand it. Why not stay here, where there’s more certainty, more stability? Why risk traveling so far for what could very well be a pointless gamble--”

“Enough! That’s enough, for the love of God! Will you just let me speak my peace? I’ve told you time and time again, I’ve already discussed this thoroughly with Aggie and she’s on board with it. Neither of us would be going if we weren’t sure. Yes, it may be a gamble, but it is mine to take, and I don’t care if you support me or not. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life behind a counter, watching the world go by when I could be an active part of it! That may be all well and good for you, Papa, but its not for me. Its just not.”

“...I see now, that my words have fallen on deaf ears. Very well then, if that’s the path you have chosen, then so be it. But just know, if things do indeed fall apart and you find yourself in great need, do not come crawling back to me.”

“Trust me, I won’t.”

Looking out over the view that surrounded him now, that conversation didn’t sting Will as much as it once had. It hurt him, the words that had been spoken and the words that were heard, but it didn’t matter anymore. He was here, he was where he’d always wanted to be. His father was wrong, things would turn out alright. Things would not fall apart, and someday, when the farm was where he wanted it to be, he could gloat. He could gloat, and prove his father had been the fool all along, not him.

He didn’t want to think anything otherwise.

#sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 history #ts4 historical #decades challenge #barclay legacy #gen one: 1890s #william barclay

[sflow-er]

I don’t think August will have any kind of legal repercussions unless the drugs do come out and/or he gets officially accused for the video and it becomes a Wilmon vs August situation. I do think though we might get social justice and honestly that’s the biggest punishment for August since his status is all he cares about and needs in order to succeed in life. If they take that away from him he is done (which is also why I could maybe see his mental health getting even worse).

That being said, 6 episodes (even if one of them might reach a one hour length) aren’t enough and I’m scared the multiple storylines will be rushed and some things not even properly addressed…

Hi anon! Sorry it's taken me a couple of days to reply.

I'm a little confused about the first part, as the drugs and the video are the only things August has even done that could lead to legal repercussions. But I'm guessing this ask is more of a general response to my criminal justice post...? That post was never meant as a prediction of what is likely to happen in S3. It was an attempt to describe how things could potentially turn out if the show did go down the police investigation + charge route. Around the time when I wrote that post, many fans seemed to be hoping for August to get 475 years in prison for making and posting the video, which simply wasn't consistent with legal precedent or the basic tenets of the Swedish justice system. So, I wanted to try and explain the framework. As for the most likely outcome in the show, I do think 'social justice' (in your words) or perhaps even 'poetic justice' is a decent prediction! It would be a pretty fitting end to August's arc for him to be locked out of the inner circle he was so eager to gatekeep, and to see his own actions cost him everything when he started out telling Wille that people like them could get away with murder. That being said, I do think it's a bit of an oversimplification to say that status is all August cares about, as there's a lot more to it than just him being hungry for power and success. I mean, he definitely is, don't get me wrong! But his status is also inextricably linked to his father's memory and legacy, which he cares very much about, and his sense of self-worth, which is very low underneath all the bravado. In other words, you are spot on that losing his status would be a critical blow. I also agree that we'd have every reason to worry about his mental (and physical!) wellbeing in that scenario - and that's where my opinion probably diverges from the majority of the fandom. No matter how awful and wrong August's actions were and how much I want to see him held responsible (whether legally or socially), I personally believe in rehabilitation through accountability and effective intervention. Especially in young people whose brain isn't even done maturing yet, but also in adults (as my spouse's work in a relevant field proves to me over and over). I want to emphasise that I'm not talking about August being forgiven. His victims don't owe him that, nor does he deserve it when he doesn't even fully understand the gravity of his actions or regret the harm he caused to Simon for example. I'm just saying that seeing some consequences is an opportunity for him to get some help. To start dismantling his warped views, building the true self-worth he lacks and the resilience he needs to weather the loss of his status, and somewhere down the line, growing into someone who no longer hurts others and himself the way he's been doing. I'm aware that we probably won't get to see that growth in the six eps we've got left. I'm just crossing my fingers for some hints in that direction - him looking into therapy, picking up a pitchfork to muck out Rousseau's stall at a decrepit Årnäs, or if he does end up in community service for example, getting started on that. I am also reasonably prepared for some of his issues to not be addressed, even if I do see that as a huge missed opportunity. But I dread the possibility of the show ending with him in a state where we can expect him to end up like his father, completely alone and unable to cope with the consequences of his own actions. It would partly sully Wilmon's well-deserved justice for me and make for a tragic ending (and as August is quite universally hated in the fandom, I'm not at all sure how that would be received).

#young royals #august horn of årnäs #august horn #young royals analysis #young royals speculation #yr fandom #august anon discourse

[logicmaru]

i love how ranmaru kageyama is doomed by the narrative from the very fucking beginning and i hope his minisode is even more miserable.

warning i'm gonna talk a lot. ranmaru is very blatantly described as a boring guy, who's underneath the average height for guys, doesn't have any notable likes or dislikes, unless you count his hatred for happy couples + people who are happy in general, which ngl comes into play later

i'm gonna try and explain this as simply as i can bc if i try to word it like an essay i'll confuse myself aha,,,,

it kind of shows us that ranmaru can get jealous pretty easily? and he's upset at the kind of trust keiji and sara share, even though he probably knows that's because they've known each other longer than sara's known ranmaru, but it probably still pisses ranmaru off idk

he wants to prove himself to sara, even though sara already sees him as something alike to an ally, but he wants something more than that. in the logic sara deleted scene, ranmaru states that he would want to be sara's best friend, and he admits how wants to go home with her and laugh casually over jokes together and treat life like nothing's wrong

i like to believe this was deleted because it would be ooc for ranmaru, that he would probably be very reluctant of sharing such an ideal with sara, and him suddenly spilling about wanting to be sara's friend in one moment would probably cause more shock factor, and not do much good for the lore, idk it just seems very "ah omg" and less "how interesting"

i really love how ranmaru is. not a good person. i know how strange that sounds, but ranmaru is, kind of, in a way, a support character for sara. And u would think, well support character, must be someone kindhearted and encouraging, right? well, in ranmaru's case, yes, but no?? he's more like "i will go to lengths for your survival, you NEED to win" instead of "you got this! i'll help you escape!" and it's somewhat refreshing? i'm not sure maybe i'm just not normal

anyway enough about evil ranmaru, emotion ranmaru is just very Sad, and again, doomed by the narrative

he doesn't get any kind of character development iirc, in the infamous ransara "win for me" scene, he just talks about how he knew this was going to be a bad idea, and how he has no right to be sara's friend, but from that point on, we don't get any remarkable moment where ranmaru gets some sort of character redemption, and instead we get a moment where ranmaru AGAIN goes through with some sort of wild plan to make sure sara escapes, which is erasing his personality / replacing it with the joe ai's personality.

gosh, if ur friends with me, u probably know how i love and hate this part of the game, mostly because of how interesting it is and how it could've fleshed out into a whole other issue, but i dislike how it's totally overshadowed by both the fandom and the game itself

sara herself doesn't seem to react too strongly by ranmaru's choice to erase himself to become a "vessel" for joe's personality, which really i'd love to explain but honestly idk,,, i definitely thought there'd be a bigger deal about it, but perhaps it was overruled since the modified maple boss fight was literally like,, moments after that

in emotion route, ranmaru shares little to no information with anyone, though he does come close when he tries to tell sara, which he does successfully tell sara about the asunaro human in the group, but i believe that is the only moment where ranmaru goes "sara, hold on" and actually tells sara about what he was actually going to say, which, on one hand, had me on the edge of my seat, but on the other hand, was nice to see since it was really showing how untrusting and reserved ranmaru is, no matter how much he trusts sara, he's not entirely sure if she trusts him in return, or if he trusts sara to not share this information with anyone else

i love ranmaru kageyama

#ranmaru kageyama #logicmaru talks #got damn i was talking #who let this guy yap #yttd #yttd spoilers

[neurodivenport]

Chase has a massive file of audio recordings of just his s/o. he's captured nearly every meaningful moment of their relationship and he's always giddy to record more. he's recorded their happiest moments, some of their most intimate moments, and even their sadder moments. one of Chases favorite moments to record is right after a mission, hearing how happy or breathless his s/o gets always makes Chases heart sore. they're not always on the same team or the same missions together, but Chase is always waiting for them when they get back without fail..... which makes the hurt that much more brutal when the rest of their teammates return.... but they don't.... Chase is devastated, there's no words that could ever describe the amount of sadness, the amount of anguish, the amount of sheer pain within the depths of his heart. Chases misses them so much he's overwhelmed with it, nearly on the verge of madness over it. but he has their recordings, their voice, their face, almost their touch because of how real it is to him. so he listens, and listens, and listens. he listens to their laugh as he sobs into his pillow at night, he listens to their words of love when his own life no longer feels worth living anymore, he listens to them cry on the days he hates himself for not being on that mission with them, the most. eventually with a lot of coaxing, Chase starts going on missions again, and it becomes a worthy distraction from his pain, a temporary relief if only for a few fleeting moments..... until it isn't, until one mission proves to be too hard, too much, with too much at stake, and Chase is faced with a decision, a decision to either save the civilians, or his chip. which shouldn't seem like such a big deal, right? Davenport can always make another one like he did before, right?...... wrong, because even if another chip is made, every recording on his original will be lost forever. Bree knows what's happening, of course, she sees the hesitation in her brothers eyes, the struggle within his already shattered heart.

"i know you're hurting, Chase, but they would want you to save all of those innocent people."

"i know, Bree...... b-b-but thats all i have left of t-them"

"no, Chase, it's not. as long as you remember all of those moments, you'll always have a piece of them left"

"but it hurts s-so much"

"i know it does, but im here for you, always"

so, Chase finds every ounce of strength he has left within him, and let's his bionic chip get destroyed. everyone is safe and sound, but Chase is sure he's never felt more lost.

ASTER YOU ARE GOING TO KILL ME

#WHAT THE FUCK #/POS #CHASE HCS

[royalsy-queen]

Hello! I know you were asking op on that post, but I thought I'd offer the way I've anaylzed it over time and good points I've seen others make for you to see if it helps! I personally think will would be way more ready to bottom by the time he gets with mike. he's known how he feels for so long, and with that acceptance comes considering your preferences - especially as a horny teenager. me personally when I watch the show, nothing about will screams "yes I want to do that to mike", I think he leans towards "I wish mike would do this to me". I know some people like subverted expectations, and some fics explore it and shape that opinion, but I don't give that much weight because I prefer looking at the show! there's nothing wrong if there's an obvious choice yk?

There's also the fact mike for most of his life thought he'd be with a woman - aka giving during intimate times. he'd be more prepared for that and probably even itching/excited for exactly that sensation, which is lucky will is prepared for the opposite! And sure, some would say "well once he realizes he's not sleeping with a girl he'll want to do the opposite role!", no, I think given the time period he'll have a mental hurdle, and that's why will goes hell yeah don't even worry!

to use your words about mike being shaky and nervous - i agree and think that's why he wouldn't bottom at the start, there's more going on with that which is where me saying will is more prepared physically and mentally came from :)

And while he's still nice and soft, but not entirely shy anymore, I dont know if will is a total "take the reins" type either. In fact, I like helping people understand he can actually take the reins with mike's nerves, while receiving! it's easier for him to soothe mike by telling him he's okay. I think it'd be more stressful for mike who's had less time with his sexuality to immediately receive and learn how to prep etc. Op acknowledged in their post that will was bottoming and they had the right idea - mike would be so nervous (both would) but that's why it works with Will trusting him and is so sweet, mike's the perfect gentle boyfriend. Nobody is being babied, and Will doesn't need to prove that he isn't a baby through anyone insisting that he top. Will gets a lot of control over his experiences from the bottom too.

I see them switching eventually like you do, but I think I still see mike preferring to top and will preferring to bottom mostly. I personally dont find the desire to flip everything about mike and will that's established (for eg. mike happily protects will so it must mean it's turn for will to do it for mike etc) which I think people sometimes do in terms of their sexual life too.

actually I think people do that because they get worried they're stereotyping? especially with Will which... your not guys and it's okay even if sometimes it happens. like Will receiving during sex. nothing wrong with a stereotype at all! (Unrelated completely but this is also me sorta hoping people start embracing the fact will is gender non conforming in general one day, it's not stereotyping him when he is visibly gay!)

Sorry I word vomited here, I just enjoy discussing this! hope it wasn't too crazy or that i overstepped! ^-^

Hey! Thanks for sharing your thoughts! I see your points and honestly they make so much sense lmao. I'm pretty sure Will has known about his sexuality for a long time, considering that Lonnie called him a queer when he was a child and Troy, who I'm assuming he's been bullying the party for a long time sadly, always went for their physical appearances, however with Will he always resorted to slurs about being gay. So yeah, Will has known for longer he was gay and Mike is honestly still processing that about himself, Mike would likely be the top most of the time. About Will "taking the reins", I actually meant it the same way you described! Will would be bottom but knowing Mike's probably so nervous he would gently guide him through the whole thing, telling Mike what he likes and what he doesn't, what feels good and reassuring him that he's okay and he can keep going most of the time, because like the headcanon said Mike would be the type to stop every 5 seconds to ask if he should continue lol. About the switch, I think it wouldn't happen until further down in their relationship, Mike always has been top but there's this itching curiosity of what it feels like to be "the girl" and to see a Will a bit more dominant than usual 👀

Personally I have even MORE headcanons about these two that are WAY more explicit, because I am a horny bitch lmaoooo

Thanks for sharing your thought process and don't worry, you didn't overstep anything. I enjoy word vomiting about Byler with people on the internet XD

#stranger things #stranger things headcanons #byler #established byler #will byers #mike wheeler

[terror-slut]

Change of Heart

Chapter 05/?? Click HERE for this fics masterlist!

Reader is a troubled pediatrician at Hawkins lab when she crosses paths with this lovely orderly. Nothing will stand between Peter and his revenge. Not even really pretty distractions.

Pairing: Peter Ballard x f!reader

Word count: 2359

Ratings & warnings: SPOILERS, period typical sexism, violence, blood, torture, NSFW, swearing, no (Y/N), no described defining features for reader. Ratings may change as chapters are being added.

CW THIS CHAPTER: mentioned torture, NSFW, masturbating (m)

A/N: first part of this chapter is inspired by horror games where you learn about the backstory through picking up notes which I personally love. Also, finally some smut! Y’all deserve it for putting up with me tbh

Thursday, June 11th 1959

I’ve just come into possession of a young boy, his name is Henry Creel. His mother and sister passed away under curious circumstances. His father survived what he described as a targeted attack from Satan himself. He spoke of flickering lights, living nightmares and life-like illusions. He even went as far as to contact an exorcist to get rid of this supposed entity, though his efforts proved to be fruitless. I don’t believe in demons. There is no other explanation for what happened at that house but the boy. With what information his mother has provided me with, I believe the reason for Henry’s comatose state is overexertion through the use of his psionic powers. Once he wakes, I will begin working on forming a bond with the boy. He is still young enough to fool. With time, he will begin to trust me, I’m sure of it.

Thursday, June 18th 1959

The boy has finally woken up! Though disoriented and not very talkative, I can tell he remembers exactly what happened before he came here. Upon telling him his mother and sister are both dead by his hand, he nodded in understanding, devoid of any emotion. I suspect he might be traumatized. I’ve assured him he is safe and I will do everything within my power to help him control his powers. It will take a little longer before I can subject him to testing, I need to be sure he is ready. There is so much to gain with Henry’s help but I need to tread carefully.

Thursday, July 23rd 1959

I’ve dubbed the boy 001. He is the first of his kind that I’ve discovered, which has me convinced there are others like him out there. The testing has begun a couple of days ago, and 001’s abilities are extraordinary! Not only does he have telepathic abilities, he can use his skills to infiltrate minds and plant illusions there. 001 is able to have one’s mind turn on them, making one their own worst enemy. Though what he has displayed so far is exceptional, I suspect he’s not showing me the full extent of his powers just yet. I wonder why, but it does not matter. I have all the time in the world and 001 is not going anywhere. Once he is ready, I’m confident he will show me.

Wednesday, August 19th 1959

Something is wrong with 001. He has disturbing ideas about humankind that deeply worry me. Initially, I thought his nihilistic outlook on life was caused by the guilt and trauma of killing his mother and sister. I now know he viewed them as nothing more than parasites and what I perceived as behavior induced by trauma was nothing more than plain indifference. If this is how he views his own flesh and blood, I’m afraid of what he thinks of others. His ideologies are tyrant-like, and it makes me shudder when I’m reminded of how young he is. When he gets older, he will grow even stronger. Will these views of his grow more intense then, too? I have him monitored day and night, now. I spend all my time with him to try and get these deeply rooted delusions out of his head before they form a real problem. I can only hope I’ve caught this early enough to treat him, and there will be no need for drastic measures.

Saturday, October 31st 1959

001 has killed half my staff. I’ve begun developing an implantable suppressor, it’s purpose is to block off the connection between his powers and the ability to use it. I’ve named it Soteria, as a last resort. I pray to God he comes to his senses, and I don’t have to use it. Losing this opportunity would be devastating. For now, the boy will be subjected to shock therapy and I will keep him under a mild sedative so he remains controllable.

Thursday, February 18th 1960

The day I completed Soteria was the day I had to put it to use. Under a heavy sedative, I’ve implanted the device in 001’s neck. Over the last few months, the boy has become a disorderly atomic bomb with a mind of it’s own. I had no other choice but to dismantle this bomb for everyone’s safety. I hope that one day, he will understand that what I did to him was for his own good.

Monday, March 14th 1960

I’ve spent the last couple of months wondering where I went wrong with 001. I’ve come to the conclusion that my greatest enemy is time. The experiments started too soon, he was not ready yet.

Had I come into possession of young 001 ten years prior, he would have been much easier to bend to my will. A more secluded childhood with children just like him would have had a positive impact, I’m sure of it. Now that 002 is here, I get a free do-over. I will be sure to do it right, this time. I will do it for 001.

A sigh escapes through her lips as she reads through dr. Brenner’s notes for what must be the sixth time. If her job was to diagnose the doctor instead of Henry, it would be a much easier job. But she was passionate when she heard about his case at first and she still is passionate. The Henry she reads about in dr. Brenner’s log is so different from Peter the orderly that she has come to know.

With a series of pops and cracks, she straightens her back by leaning back into the tall backrest of the dark office chair. The pencil that rests between her fingers twirls absentmindedly from side to side, in sync with the tapping of her foot on the tile floor. This whole entire case was much easier back when she could observe him from a distance, before he became… tangible.

Before she came to Hawkins lab, this was when she hadn’t graduated just yet, she thoroughly studied his case file front to back. The case file didn’t include Dr. Brenner’s notes, but it did describe the use of electric shock therapy on the young boy, the dehumanization by referring to him as a number and how they confined him to the same little space for months on end. The injustice that was done to him lit a fire in the depths of her stomach, and she swore she would get him justice. Maybe freedom wasn’t obtainable for him, perhaps not even beneficial after everything he had been through, but she had promised a picture of young Henry that she would do right by him.

With a groan, she lowers her head on the desk in front of her. Though her passion hasn’t wavered, her motivation has shifted. She wants to help Peter so badly, but now selfishness has muddled her initial pure intentions. It may have taken her a little bit, but she can finally admit to herself that she likes Peter more than a psychiatrist should like their patient.

“You are such a fucking idiot,” she murmurs, annoyed with herself. “You see a pretty face and that’s all it takes? Seriously?”

But he is more than that, isn’t he? Despite his pretty smiles and his soft curls, the warmth that rises to her cheeks when he turns his full attention towards her, the shiny pink hue of his lips… He makes it so easy to talk to him. She actually likes talking to him, likes how he actively listens to her. Though it has never been her plan to divulge too much personal information, everything she has told him as of yet has been the truth.

In the middle of her research to the best way to approach the orderly, she had been catapulted into making contact with him. She would have preferred if she had had the upper hand during their first contact, but she had promised dr. Brenner her abilities to adapt and overcome were up to par for situations like this. He told her she would need it to deal with 001.

With a soft rustle, she closes the folder lying flat on the desk top. The notes didn’t bring her any new insight like she had hoped they would. If anything, she is even more confused now. Between wanting Peter and wanting to help Peter, she wonders if she is the right person for the job after all. A guilt shaped stone sits heavily at the bottom of her stomach. Peter is her patient. If she is unable to keep her feelings professional, she should hand him over to another psychiatrist, she knows that. The only problem being that there is no one else and Peter is unaware of his status as her patient because of how unorthodox his treatment is. She is also too stubborn to give up.

“I can stay objective,” she whispers to the closed folder. “I promised you I would help you and I will, Henry Creel.”

The office chair softly rolls away as she resolutely stands. Renewed determination has pushed away the guilt for now, and she will gladly take it. Giving up is not an option.

Peter’s knuckles are white from clenching his fists as tightly as he is. It’s the middle of the night and he’s sitting up in his bed. Before the pediatrician, the darkness of the nights brought him great comfort but now, they are his worst enemy. His mind has been turned by her, to her, and Peter hates it. He can’t afford to let her be a distraction, can’t afford to be burdened by these human desires of his. And yet.

Yet.

It has been three nights in a row that his cock has been begging for attention, three nights where he wakes up from dreams of her and him. Dreams that would have her turn up her nose if she only knew.

Frustration has him slap his hand over his eyes as he lays back down, cock undeniably hard and warm pressed up snuggly against his stomach.

In his dreams, she comes to him willingly. She wears a sheer violet nightgown that does nothing to hide her dusky nipples, straining against the fabric, begging to be touched. Her breathing comes in soft huffs as she kneels before him and presses her cheek softly against his uniform clad leg. With big, wide eyes she looks up at him, and starts to begs him with all her pretty words to take her. She begs and paws and pouts when he denies her what she so desperately craves, his hard cock plunging into her soaking wet cunt. Her eyes shoot daggers at him when he tells her she needs to deserve it.

Peter can’t help himself when his right hand drifts down to where his cock throbs against the fabric of his boxers, and he shudders when he takes himself in hand. It’s been so long since he last did this, the skin of his dick is extremely sensitive to the touch. His breath hitches when he gives a slow, experimental stroke.

In his dream, this is the part where his sweet pediatrician tells him she’d do anything he’d ask of her, anything that would please him. He gives her a smile and a nod, and she knows exactly what he wants. With deliberate precision, she places her hands on his thighs, just barely grazing his member through the thick, white fabric of his pants, and makes careful work of unzipping him. It’s hard not to notice how she clenches her thighs together when she pulls his weeping cock out.

“F-fuck,” his moan is breathy when he hears the unmistakable, obscene wet sound of his fist working himself up and down.

All it takes is an approving nod, and she wraps her lips around his cockhead. Her lips are velvet around his throbbing length. His big hands cradle her head to hold her hair out of her face, and she gives a thankful, tight swirl with her tongue around a particular sensitive spot. A breathy laugh always escapes him at this point in his dream, as if he can’t believe his luck.

She bobs up and down his cock, takes him in her throat as far as she can and wraps her hand around the base where her lips can’t reach. A frustrated moan leaves her because of this, which in turn sends shivers down his spine. He appreciatively feels her tits tightly pressed up against his leg, nipples poking hard through the sheer fabric of her gown. The sight of her desperation only increases his pleasure, cock hard and hot in her throat as her empty cunt clenches around nothing.

The bed softly creaks underneath him as he increases the speed of which he’s fucking his hand with, imagining it being the pediatrician’s tight throat like in his dreams.

In his dreams he would tell her how good she is being for him, doing so well at sucking him off, which doubles her efforts at taking that last little bit of cock down her throat. Once her nose is snug against his stomach, he rattles off praises, half incoherent because of how close he is.

“‘M gonna…” he murmurs to no one in particular, fisting his pre-cum covered cock, so close to his climax that he aches.

It is her name on Peter’s lips when he comes, seed warmly coating his fingers as he imagines shooting his load down her grateful throat. His body seizes slightly as he rides out the waves of his orgasm, droplets of hot, sticky cum escaping onto his soft stomach. He feels satisfied as his cock softens in his hand, albeit only for a short moment.

His panting dies down and his bliss makes way for thoughts much darker not soon after. The pediatrician was never supposed to become this much of a distraction, he thinks as his seed begins to cool on his stomach. Human desires are weaknesses, and he can’t afford to have any weaknesses. Peter needs to take action, before she becomes his undoing.

A/N: that was one hell of a chapter and I’m so proud of it honestly? Please lmk what you thought, it keeps me going!

My apologies for the delay of this chapter. I promised an update last week but since that did not happen, I owe you another one this week. I’m aiming to have it up by Sunday. See you then! <3

Want to be added/removed from the taglist? Don’t be shy, let me know!

Tag List: @sunweee @ancientbeing10 @njutul @lauftivy @madamerebloger @korekiyoss @immazebrah @severuslovebot @hobii-c0re @pechvogal @raineeace @peterballardsgirlfriend @shatteredflowers @thedoubleexposurephotography @dogmom2014 @daffy-ducks-hug @odd1seven @myboykillme @slut-for-sevika @nymariel @philophxbicrxmantic @clown-princesa @leavemealone-7

#mind the tags <3 #happy reading! #horror #stranger things #change of heart #change of heart fiction #peter ballard x reader #001 x reader #henry creel x reader #vecna stranger things #stranger things 001 #henry creel #peter ballard #stranger things season 4 #st4 #st spoilers #period typical sexism #no (y/n) #no described defining features for reader #not beta read we die like papa

[tempest-sun]

Forever and For Always Chapter 10

A/N: Well. Its finally here. I just want to thank everyone for their patience with me in waiting for this final chapter. Life got busy and I wanted to make sure this chapter was perfect and worth the wait. Without further adieu...

Chapter 10: The Happily Ever After

Words: 2,879

Warnings: None, just fluff. A brief allusion to childbirth but nothing is described about it.

Summary: The long awaited conclusion to Rex and Readers story… for now.

Ch. 01 - Ch. 02 - Ch. 03 - Ch. 04 - Ch. 05 - Ch. 06 - Ch. 07 - Ch. 08 - Ch. 09

5 Years Later

“Again, Daddy! Again!” 

Light-hearted giggles woven with the fresh summer breeze floats across the lake to the shore. You watch the scene in front of you from your spot on the spread out picnic blanket. 

“Again?!” Rex says with a deep rumbling laugh of his own. He stands waist deep in the cool water. He complies with the laughing child’s request and tosses him back into the lake. The boy, your oldest son Jesse, resurfaces with a smile on his face. He swims back to his fathers side.

“My turn! My turn!”

Cody, your second child, abandons the sand castle he has been building to join in on the fun. His blonde fluffy curls bounce with each step as he runs into the lake. You watch as he swims effortlessly over to his father and brother. Rex holds out his arms lifting Cody high into the air. After all this time, you are still amazed how strong Rex’s genetics are right down to the golden brown eyes that you love so much. Thus it was an easy choice to name your sons after Rex’s fallen brothers. It was the least you could do to honour them and what they’ve done for a galaxy that will never know their names.That way their memory will always live on.  

“Mommy! Mommy! Watch this!” Cody yells from Rex’s arms before he is tossed in the water. He resurfaces with a big grin on his face. 

Rex looks over his shoulder back at you. His tanned face is bathed in the soft warm rays of the summer sun hanging high in the cloudless blue sky. His eyes, no longer battle hardened, have several laugh lines surrounding them since you reunited all those years ago. That’s not the only change that Rex has made to shed his old life behind. His signature buzz cut? Grown out in golden ringlets that hang to his shoulders that he currently has tied in a loose bun on the top of his head. 

You shamelessly check your husband out. Your eyes skim down from his face to his body that has softened from having proper home cooked meals rather than strict calorie controlled portion bars. You didn’t think it was possible to fall more in love with him but everyday that passes proves that statement wrong. A familiar heat pools between your legs. If you weren’t already pregnant for the third time, you’d be begging him to put another gorgeous baby in you. 

Rex catches you staring, sending you a cheeky wink and blowing you a kiss. You blow one in return. You shake your head at his antics as he makes a show of reaching up into the air to catch your kiss on the breeze and then bringing his hand over his heart to lock it there. 

“My turn now!” Jesse sing-songs splashing Rex to get his attention.

You lay your palm on your swollen stomach hidden underneath a blue cotton sundress. You and Rex are set to be outnumbered by children in a few short weeks but you’re not worried at all. Parenthood has been a breeze so far and you couldn’t have asked for a better partner or father of your children. You thank your lucky stars everyday that you and Rex found each other. The sound of splashing breaks you out of your thoughts. You look up to see your three boys making their way back to the beach. Jesse and Cody’s puffed curls now lay flat and plastered down on their heads from the weight of the water. 

“Mama! Did you see that? I flew so high.” Jesse plunks himself beside you, water droplets landing on your skin. 

“I sure did sweetheart. You’re getting better at your tricks,” you wrap your arms around his little shoulders, kissing his temple. 

“Can I have a snack? I’m hungry.” He crawls over to the orange striped beach bag. 

“Yes but only one, I don’t want you to spoil your dinner.” 

“But mama…” he begins to whine, giving you his best puppy dog stare.

“Listen to your mother,” Rex smiles, ruffling Jesse’s hair. “And get a snack for your brother too.”

“Hi baby,” you look up at your husband tilting your head up. 

“Hi Mesh’la,” Rex cups either side of your face, leaning down to place a peck on your lips. 

“Ewwww,” Jesse sticks his tongue out at the display of affection between you two.  

Rex makes a playful huffing sound and gives you another quick peck. He reaches for a towel, wrapping it around his waist.He sits down beside you putting a hand on your bump. “How’s baby?” 

“She’s finally settled, thank the Maker.” You groan, stretching your arms above your head.

“Mama, can you open this?” Cody asks, holding out the wrapped homemade granola bar in his little fist.

“Course I can,” You open it for him. 

“Thank you,” Cody sits with his back against your belly as he chomps into his snack. 

“You’re welcome, and good using your manners.” You look around Cody to see Jesse sitting in the sand with his unwrapped granola bar in one hand and his tiny red shovel in the other. You can tell he is getting frustrated by trying to dig without getting his food dirty.

“Lovie, come sit and eat.” You pat the free space beside you on the picnic blanket for Jesse to come sit.

Jesse pouts stubbornly. “I’m digging.”

“I know bubba. At least give me your snack so it doesn’t get sandy.”

Jesse takes a step towards you when a rustling in the foliage catches your attention. You put one finger up for him to wait. The sound is getting closer and is heading your way. Whatever is coming is taking measured steps and that can only mean one thing… Imperials. They finally made it to the Outer Rim.

“Get behind me.” Rex’s voice is dangerously low. He’s picked up on it too.  

Carefully, you get up from your spot on the blanket. Reaching for Cody, you guide him next to Jesse.You stand protectively in front of them. Your eyes only deviate away from the direction of the sound to see Rex reaching into the beach bag. He rummages through it before producing a familiar shape of black metal. 

You look at him incredulous. “You packed a blaster?!”

“I like to be prepared for things,” Rex shrugs, pointing the blaster towards the tree line..

“For the beach?! Where the kids could have grabbed it?!”

“It’s set to stun.”

“Like that makes me feel better.” 

“Mama, what’s happening?” Jesse asks from his hiding spot behind your legs. He is holding Cody’s hand.

“Nothing my love,” you turn to squat in front of your boys. “Do you remember what we talked about if there were bad people coming to talk to mommy and daddy?”

Jesse’s lower lip trembles but he puffs up his little chest trying to look brave for his brother. “‘Take your brother and run to Cut and Suu’s house’.” He repeats what you and Rex have told him to do in this scenario. 

You wish you didn’t have to say that to him but Rex made sure to have a contingency plan just in case the Empire came knocking. The two of you would hold off the Imps to give your children and your friends a chance to escape. You know your boys would be safe and loved with the Lawquanes.  

“My brave boys,” you kiss each of your son’s foreheads. “Remember that Mama and Dada love you very much.” You look over your shoulder. The sound of footsteps are agonisingly close now. “And we’ll always be right here,” You point to each of their hearts. “Okay?”

They nod with wide eyes. You kiss their foreheads again before turning back towards the clearing. You keep your hands behind you with your palms on their little chests waiting with baited breath for whatever it is to emerge from the thicket of trees.

“You should go too,” Rex says quietly, his head slightly turned to look at you over his shoulder. 

“If I go, you go. Till death do we part remember?” You raise your eyebrow reminding him that you did not take your vows lightly. 

“So stubborn even in the face of danger,” Rex shakes his head with a tight smile on his lips. His face turns into one of concentration again with his eyes narrowed down the barrel of the blaster.

The crunching of the underbrush becomes louder as whoever gets closer and closer. You take an instinctual step back. Any moment now. You wait for the inevitable platoon of stormtroopers in their white shiny plastic armour to appear with their blasters drawn. Ready to rip away all that you and Rex have built without any hesitation. 

“Woah woah woah!” A deep familiar voice rings out. 

Two familiar figures emerge from the edge of the forest with their arms raised above their heads. “Don’t shoot!”

“Stay where you are!” Rex yells. His blaster trained on two of his brothers. Under his breath, he says to you, “When I give the word. Run.” His commanding tone leaves no room for argument.

“Rex, it’s us.” Wolffe says carefully. His gaze locks on to your little family shielded behind Rex’s back. 

“Do you have your chips?” Rex moves to further shield you and the boys. 

“We had them removed!” Gregor answers with a queasy smile on his lips. “See?” He lifts up his black curls from his forehead. Sure enough, a crude pale thin scar on the left side of his head where his chip used to be is proof that he is telling the truth.  

“And you,” Rex cocks the blaster pointing it in Wolffe’s direction. “Did you remove yours?”

Wolffe wordlessly moves his hair to the side to show off the matching scar. 

You breathe out a sigh of relief, the tension melting out of your shoulders. Your family is safe. The Empire isn’t here. 

“Do we run now mommy?” Cody asks quietly.

You turn and crouch down to face them. “No, no my darlings. False alarm. We’re safe.” You ruffle their hair standing up. Suddenly a sharp pain in your side causes you to gasp. Not now. It’s too early.

“You guys are dikuts, you know that?!” Rex crosses the beach to embrace his long lost brothers.  

“Says the one who brought a blaster to the beach,” Gregor lilts. “And what do you know, we’re uncles now!” He gestures to your boys.

“Mama?” Jesse looks at you with concern written all over his little face. It’s your turn to give him a brave little smile.

“Daddy! Daddy!” Cody yells. His little hand is on your arm. 

Rex turns to see you almost doubled over, your contractions stabbing you like a dull knife knocking the wind out of you. “Y/N!” He runs to your side. “What is it?”

“The baby. She’s coming.” You grit out between clenched teeth. Another sharp contraction ripples through your body. 

“This soon? Okay, okay,” Rex looks around trying not to panic. He switches into what you like to call his ‘Captain Mode’. “Cody, grab the blanket, Jesse grab the bag.” He scoops you up in his strong arms. “Gregor, there’s a pink house at the end of the street. Tell the midwife it’s time.”

“You got it, Captain.” Gregor runs down the path he and Wolffe came from.

“And Wolffe, you remember Cut and Suu? They live next door. Shortcuts through there…”

“On it,” Wolffe jogs in the direction Rex had jutted his chin towards.  

“C’mon boys, hurry now.” 

————————————————————————

Even though you’ve done this twice before, you are still quite anxious for the birthing process. You don’t know what to expect because with each of your boys you had vastly different experiences. With Jesse, you laboured for 13 hours before he finally made his way into the world on a cold winter's day. Rex likes to joke that Jesse was too warm to leave. Cody’s birth on the other hand was quick and easy. You barely had time to lay down when not even quarter of an hour later he was in your arms. Now that you’re going to have a girl? You don’t know which way your daughter's birth is going to go. 

You lay on your bed, already changed into a thin nightgown that won’t restrict you when the time comes. Cody sits next to you laying his head on your belly. 

“Baby sissy is coming?”

“Not yet but soon,” you kiss the top of his curls. “Why don’t you go see daddy okay?”

Cody slides off the bed and he runs out of the room. Another painful contraction rips through you. You let out a groan. Rex enters the room quickly joining your side.

“I think it’s go time.” The midwife looks up from underneath the sheet after checking your level of dilation. “You ready mama?”

You turn your head to look at Rex. He squeezes your hand in reassurance like he has the past two times you’ve gone through this.

“You got this my love,” Rex kisses your knuckles. 

You nod and you focus on controlling your breathing as you begin to push. The birthing process passes by in a blur. You only return to reality when the piercing sound of your baby’s strong cry fills the room. You flop back down on the propped up pillows, relieved tears rolling down your cheeks. 

“Congratulations, you have a baby girl.” The midwife places your child on your bare chest. 

“She’s here,” you sob in happiness. “She’s here. Our baby.” 

Rex snips the umbilical cord and the midwife takes the baby to clean her up. She returns with the baby who is swaddled in a white cotton blanket. She has a tiny little tuft of blonde hair on the top of her head. Rex’s genes prevailed again. “Would you like to hold her?” The midwife asks Rex.

Rex nods with teary eyes holding his arms out for his daughter. The midwife gently places the tiny bundle in his arms. “Hi there,” Rex says, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s your Buir.” He looks away from your daughter’s face for a moment to look at you, tears freely falling from his eyes. “Thank you Mesh’la.”

You watch him gently rock your daughter, your heart full and bursting with love. The baby lets out hungry wails. Rex hands her back to you so you can feed her. “I should be the one thanking you, my love.” You give him a soft kiss. 

An insistent knock on the bedroom door sounds. “Mama, can I come in?” Jesse’s voice is muffled on the other side.

“Me too!” Cody chimes in. 

“Come in my darlings!” You say with a wide smile. 

Rex walks to the door crouching down at eye level with the boys who are trying to peak over his shoulder. “You have to be gentle.” Rex tells them before taking their hands and leading them to the bed. 

“Is that baby sissy?” Jesse climbs up beside you once you are done feeding her and have adjusted your shirt. He looks at the baby’s content face. “I love her.” He lays his head on your arm. 

You melt at his declaration. Cody climbs up on your other side. He looks at your belly. “How did she get out of your belly?”

Rex chokes on his water at his son’s innocent curiosity.

“That is another question for another time,” you reassure him.

Cody leans up and he doesn’t seem sure about his new sister when he looks at her face. 

“Gentle hands,” Rex reminds him when Cody reaches up to put a hand on his sister's forehead. 

“What’s she called?” Cody asks. 

You look at Rex. You both had tossed around a few ideas for names but nothing stuck. You look down at your daughter's face, only one name appears in your mind. “Daisy,” you murmur.

“Daisy,” Rex rubs your shoulder. “I think that’s perfect.”

A few days later, you and your family have settled into a new routine. The baby shower that was originally scheduled has now been repurposed into a celebration of the new addition to your family. Soft music plays from the radio. The smell of food cooking on the fire wafts through the open window.  

You join Rex on the stone stoop that overlooks your backyard. Rex wraps his arm around your shoulder tucking you into his side. The two of you gaze upon your little slice of paradise. Jesse and Shaeeah are wrestling with Gregor on the grass. All three of their infectious giggles punctuate the air. Cody sits on Wolffe’s lap asking him an endless stream of questions from “why do you look like Buir” and “what happened to your eye”. Wolffe patiently provides explanations that are age appropriate while Cody looks at him with wide eyed fascination. Suu sits with Jek at the picnic table laughing and talking amongst themselves while Cut continues cooking the meat that he and Rex caught.  

“I love you,” Rex says softly, pulling you out of your observations. He places a kiss on your temple sighing in contented bliss. 

“I love you too,” You tilt your head up to look at him. “Forever and for Always.”

————————————————————————

Taglist:

@ems-alexandra ; @loverofclones ; @citrusdoll ; @graciexmarvel

@flyingkangaroo ; @eternalwaffle ; @mrsct7567 ; @maximalblaze

@julsbvb12

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars the clone wars fanfiction #the clone wars fanfiction #captain rex #reader #captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #rex x reader #rex x you #reader insert #star wars reader insert #ct 7567 #star wars angst #star wars smut #Forever and For Always series #FafA

[tenshiharmonia]

So, I went to see the Super Mario movie saturday afternoon and I must say, I had an absolute blast. Don't get me wrong, it was far from perfect. And I'll have to agree that it could have used ten or fifteen more minutes to pace things a little more organically. But really, I had a smile on my face the entire time. As a Bowser fan, the film was an especially exhilarating treat. From enjoying himself at a heavy metal concert, to bashfully trying to woo the princess, writing her an exquisitely awkward love song and rehearsing his proposal with Kamek, to ruthlessly tearing into the hero after they saved the day ruined everything he worked so hard towards, he walked such an astounding line between adorable and intense (also, I'd like to add that he was really, really sexy :3 ). Not that the other characters weren't delightful too, of course. I must admit, I'm actually quite surprised that they chose to address Peach's origins. I mean, even back when the brothers being from Brooklyn was a staple of the series, the incongruity of a (seemingly) human princess leading a nation of mushroom people never really came into question. If a sequel there is, I'd definitely like for that point to be explored a little more... Also, I'm particularly fond of the way the Kongs were integrated into the story. To tell you the truth, I've never really cared for the DK side of the franchise all that much. But really, the visit to the Jungle Kingdom was quite a riot, both in terms of action and worldbuilding. And let’s not forget the sheer insanity of the Koopa General... Really though, that movie was just, so much fun. Bright, colorful, light-hearted, unadulterated fun. Which is not to say that it was without emotions. The brothers' feeling of inadequacy, both expressed in different ways, their tearful reunion, the need to prove themselves to the world and to each other... Truly, fraternal affection is the crux of the film. In fact, family as a whole is an omnipresent theme throughout the story, from Peach's devotion to the Toads, to DK's own issues with his dad. And I'm not even talking about the love that was poured into all the little details. It's already been said a thousand times, but there are so many Easter eggs* hidden in the film, be it in the picture or the score. I've seen the movie being described as a "love letter" to the franchise and its fans, and really, I feel like there is no better way to put it. In a sense, I'd say it's like a puzzle : watching all the different little pieces fall neatly into place is also part of the fun. Sure, it wasn't The Last Wish, but then again, it didn't need to be. In its case - and I insist on the word "case"** -, the world is the plot. And the film executes it spectacularly. Anyway, this accolade is probably long enough (unlike the movie, which could afford to be much longer, if only because what we got was so good already :p ). Still, let me emphasize one last time what a joy it was to see the Mushroom World come alive this way, in such a luminous and bustling manner. Honestly, I wouldn't mind if instead of a sequel, we were to get a whole-ass show, in the vein of the first three cartoons. A mix of slice-of-life and adventure to explore this beautiful version of the Mario universe and everything it has to offer. I think it would be great. With that being said, thank you for listening to my divagations on the matter. As always, it was nice to get those thoughts out of my system. I mean, it was such a wholesome movie ; I needed to share my giddy excitement with the universe. ^_^

* Quite fitting for the season, now that I think about it. Although the film is so rich in references, that I'd almost be tempted to refer to them as "Fabergé eggs". XD ** I know better than anyone how good at storytelling the franchise can be - as recently demonstrated by Sparks of Hope -, so don't take this statement as a generalization it isn't meant to be.

#spoiler #spoilers #super mario #super mario bros #super mario bros. #super mario bros movie #super mario bros. movie #bowser #luigi #princess #peach #princess peach #peaches peaches peaches peaches peaches... #toad #donkey kong #dk #cranky kong #koopa general #a love letter to the franchise #am i overdoing it in terms of tags ? #oups #i almost forgot #kamek #my bad

[motheatenscarf]

Oh, FF14. You almost had me convinced you knew what you were doing with your complicated traitor women.

Doing post-Stormblood story content. I really like how they're handling Fordola's atonement, her inability to control the artifical echo she let the Empire instill in her is making it so that she is constantly drowning in the memories and emotions of those around her- those she's wronged. She's at the mercy of an unrelenting torrent of grief and pain, all of which she caused these people, in her misguided efforts to try and carve a place for Ala Mhigans within the Empire's ranks.

That's a BRUTAL punishment and deeply compelling!

Then her using that artificial echo to help kill primals, while being reassured, "We don't forgive you... but if you want to help, we'll thank you."

Hell yeah!

That's redemption done RIGHT! Forgiveness isn't part of the package, it's not about that, it's about doing whatever you can to try and undo or make right the harm you've caused.

Between that and Raubahn's compelling struggle of desperately wanting to come home but knowing that he swore an oath to Nanamo, and her trying to prove to him that she's not a child anymore, and that he needs to go where his heart calls him, this is actually good! I don't love Godbert's little bootstrap speech and I don't love that we've decided salt mining is the way to make Ala Mhigo financially independent, but I do like that Alphinaud has learned his lesson about taking money from monetarist cronies in Ul'dah. I especially like Lyse being the idealistic leader Ala Mhigo actually kind of needs, making sure EVERYONE has a seat at the table and including the beast tribes in her new republic modeled after what Aymeric helped build in Ishgard!!! Consistent character growth all around! Hooray!! This is GOOD, I'm invested in this, this was what I wanted the whole time!

Annnnnnnd then I went to go find Gosetsu and now I want to find whoever was responsible for this and rip their heart out of their chest in front of the other writers as an example.

I... miss when Yotsuyu was a blood-crazed psychopath turned on by violence against her own people. Because at least she was a mentally competent woman in charge of her own faculties and in possession of agency for her choices.

Robbing her of her memories, turning her into someone who is described as "child-like" who "follows Gosetsu like a puppy," while having everyone recount her life as a subservient, "doll-like" sex-slave who was empty behind the eyes, being described BY her father, WHILE he sold her, as "No longer a maiden, but still has some use in her, " is... VILE? I, I don't have the words to describe HOW angry this makes me.

I had to walk away from story for a bit and I haven't gone back because I know they're not gonna give her any justice because it's either "Oh, but look how innocent she once was! The perfect docile woman~", or "Blood Psychopath Turned On By Violence", with no in-between.

I hate this!

I hate this so much!

I want to personally eviscerate whoever was responsible for this!! I want their kneecaps! I want their SKULL

I especially hate that we meet the man who ran the brothel she was sold to, and CAN'T make him suffer, and THEN he's defended by Hien as "well, we've only known him as honorable and courageous; I won't defend what he did, but I know he's trying to make amends," and okay, yeah, NOW I hate Hien! Good job, game! You made me hate him!

#Caitlin Plays FF14

[aaluminiumas]

Sacrament of Sin

I am sitting in a confessional, trying to gather my wits. I can’t bring myself to talk, even though it has been my own rule for ages: I simply cannot find the right words that could express the turmoil of feelings fighting inside me. I don’t know even know where to start as I still fail to grasp whatever is happening to me and the world around me. Certainly, the extent of this transformation is enormous, but I hardly acknowledge that. My body hasn’t changed at all. To make sure, I stare at my hands, meekly folded in the lap. They don’t seem to be altered by the unknown processes in my organism. I see the same blueish veins snaking across my palm; same bones and knuckles jutting through my skin; same sinews protruding in the wrist every time I clench my fist. Am I the same? Or am I not?.. 

The Spirit of the Lord will come powerfully upon you … and you will be changed into a different person…

             The words come to mind naturally, but they don’t bring comfort. For the first time in my life, I may not be able to reconcile with myself. Finally, I muster up my strength and dare look up. Yet, I am uncertain as to what answer I am expecting to receive. 

Don’t fear, because I am with you; don’t be afraid, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, I will surely help you; I will hold you with my righteous strong hand.

I am no longer afraid, for He is with me, He is within me, and His blood is flowing in my veins. However, I cannot squelch my genuine curiosity, which arouses a feeling of community in me. Is this what He felt having risen from the dead? Is this the miracle described in the Bible? Is this the rebirth He Himself experienced? He underwent pain, fear, and humiliation to finally resurrect, and I was chosen to follow His steps, repeat His path, and savor the taste of the inevitable. 

The realization did not strike immediately, I have to admit. Even having an inkling of what the future had in store for me, I still could not come to terms with this hunch. I could not quite control where I was going, I suffered from a terrible cough and endless fatigue, and those frequent collapses frightened me. I knew He wouldn’t leave me, for I was a devoted disciple, an acolyte, a zealot maybe, but… how can you remain staid staring in the face of Death? I feigned calm, but it was beyond my power to conceal nervousness, terror, and strong misgiving chaining me every evening before sessions with Riley, an unrepentant man, mightily irritated by practically anything I tried to reason him with. Despite his growing skepticism and resentment, I spotted a kindred spirit in him, though I would not be able to explain what made me think so. A recalcitrant by nature, he wanted to refute every word of mine; he wanted to prove me wrong whenever he felt cornered. His convulsive surges of anger spilled over me but were, in fact, directed towards himself. I wished I could spare him of those emotions, but alas, he wouldn’t listen. Even when I had to share the secret with him, trying to atone for the untoward event with the Angel, he resisted. I honestly intended to let him know the most delicate aspects, so he could treat his gift with caution, so… he could adapt. 

My story did not convince him. He refused to embrace the godly gift, preferring to be eaten away by an excessive feeling of guilt, which seemed to him a far more appealing option than resurrection from the ashes of the past, it just… didn’t sit well with him, so he hastened to push the idea away, the quicker, the better. But I knew he was jealous. People committed felonies guided by avarice, selfishness, or other destructive motives, ulterior by nature, and consequently succeeded in eliminating conscience and rooting out any sign of possible remorse. Riley Flynn, who faltered only once, was not granted permission to forget and obliterate the memory that caused him so much agony and anguish. I did my best to teach him how to get disposed of this senseless emotion. He should have listened to me more carefully… 

I sigh and adjust my collar. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a tiny bruise on my wrist – it must’ve been the result of the brief melee with Joe Collie. When he gave me one of his bear hugs, I realized I couldn’t let him go. Weak and intoxicated by the incredible sight unfolding before my eyes, I felt mesmerized by the new shiny, silvery, gossamer veils rippling on the surface of the brighter colors my world had acquired. My senses, already acute, amplified exponentially. I heard him mumbling, I saw his horror and increasing repulsion in the fading eyes, but it only prodded me. Petrified, I was staring at the maroon stain spreading across the floor, and, unbeknownst to me, my hand peacefully lay on the back of his head. A bizarre tingling sensation of anticipation—and huger—electrified me when I caught the wet sound of blood pouring through my digits. My fingers felt sticky. I pulled my hand away to admire the rich red color, deeper than the wine people sipped on at Communion. It captured my attention so much that I couldn’t snap out of it or dispel the vermillion mist enshrouding me. 

He was already dying. God moved my hand; it was an act of mercy. Otherwise, how would he live with this hefty burden, knowing he’d caused so much pain and suffering to other people? 

Deep in thought, I lose control and automatically wipe my mouth: I can’t get rid of the blood crust on my lips, as if I am still sitting there, leaning against the wall, nonplussed and totally perplexed by the weird urge taking over me and clouding my rationality. My miserable state, though, didn’t intimidate Bev, who found me on the floor in a pool of blood, with the cadaver sprawling across my tiny cabin. Confident as ever, she looked around, closed the blinds, and approached me. She apparently took my hand and murmured something to me, promising a brighter prospect, the crux of which remained a mystery to me. The only feeling I could concentrate on was the warmth of her fingers: I sensed every vessel pulsating underneath her thin, pale skin; I perceived blood flowing through her veins, and I heard her pulse as if her heart was beating right into my ear. 

Her whisper broke the wall of torpor when she squeezed my bloodied hands, and I finally noticed her scintillating, inspired eyes backlit by inexplicable exaltation. She was willing to embrace the sin I had committed, becoming my accomplice. Her own fingers were stained with blood, but she didn’t mind… 

             I clear my throat; it is hard to proceed. I doubt if I have the strength to admit the obvious: the events have taken this course because of me and my selfish desire to change the world, to make it a better place. If I had controlled myself, it would have never happened. I regret my decisions, but how could I keep it all to myself, how could I remain adamant, seeing her suffer from dementia, rapidly deteriorating. Her eyes scanned my face indifferently, without a sign of recognition, and her trembling hand seized the bed as she attempted to sit up. “Father,” she said, “I am sorry I cannot come to church.” I motioned her to calm down and started reading the lines from memory, putting a lot of effort into such a habitual task. She morphed into a wreck, a living ruin that existed in constant dread the outer world threatened her with. Her daughter, Sarah, indemnified her, but her professional skills were not sufficient. Even the most brilliant of doctors could not cure the incurable. It was divine retribution for the sin she once committed. 

             But if it is indeed God’s comeuppance for what we’ve done... Why does it have to be so detrimental, powerful, and, above all, quick? The illness devours her from the inside, erasing all the memories she’s been guarding for years. Why did I elude it completely unscathed? Why does she have to carry this burden all alone, without any hope for a better future? Why does her daughter have to lock herself here on this island, instead of pursuing her career somewhere on the mainland?.. 

             The questions remain unanswered, and I almost feel the rage boiling in me. It has to be me. I cannot reverse time and get a glimpse of the past, but it is in my power to help her. Would it be against God’s will to grant her a little bit of time, to offer her a second chance? Would it be an egoistic and maudlin impulse to return to the brief but stable moments of heaven-like tranquility and idyll? 

             I am tempted to say no, and I am not seeking any excuse anymore. Crossing myself, I leave the reconciliation room, glancing at an epitome of the Virgin Mary. 

The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?

#midnight mass #father paul hill #monsignor pruitt #beverly keane #riley flynn #mildred gunning #sarah gunning

[stygianwraith]

I may not be open to admitting to these kinds of things that I can say that happened throughout my years, however I can't say that I never had considerations for putting it out there for people to know about what has happened throughout recent times, how I was able to handle with proper steps, & what I have learned afterwards. A few days ago, my daily life has been interrupted by what I can call "Remnants". Pieces of the past that still remain somehow wanting to take what I have, as they recognize that they don't have it. Each of them resembled versions of me that has history of letting their weakness build them into certain negative characteristics. These characteristics vary from gullibility, narcissism, animosity, egocentricity, even trepidation. Their sole purpose was to pull me away from becoming more of what I already am, given that I have changed a lot to even become a portion of what I am today. But I have been encountered by 2 of them last night. Why was because they saw that I have gained more of my true potential, & they believed that by dragging me down to the gutter, they could take what I have.

At first I wanted to start off merciful, reason being that I assumed that these Remnants were things that could come and go. But the more they stayed, the more desperate they craved for my power. So much where they constantly pester about it, though they tried resulting in physical action. I had to remind them specifically that if they had even a sample of what I have, they wouldn't know what to do with it, since they never took the time to understand what I have experienced to recognize how dangerous using these kinds of abilities, and they would use it for the wrong causes. Perhaps for their own gain. Of course they thought they could convinced me that they knew what exactly to do with my capabilities, but I didn't trust them enough because I recognized that these Remnants were already too late on "changing". That's why they were what they were in the first place. When the opportunity to change their decisions was presented to them, it seemed like they never took the necessary time to do so. With that being said, if they didn't want to leave peacefully when I gave them the chance, I had to make them by force. By killing them off. I wanted them dead. When the chance came for me to take action, it got to a point where it was not just those 2 that I have last encountered. There were 5. This was not an easy task, I must say. Nevertheless, I got the job done. I haven't felt so alive ever since. The constant feeling of being pulled by a thread felt like hell on Earth.

This has proven to be the riskiest thing I have done in my lifetime. Because this was a life-risking situation, and I knew the only way to resolve it was by literally murdering someone. ..Or something. Whether it be a person or not, it was something that I had to kill of in order for me to continue to grow into my best self. I even saw that I was not only protecting my own well-being, but I was protecting my inner child as well. Unlikely, they were broken by what they were unaware of being their foe the entire time (That being primarily my Mom.). Which I can understand. I did not want to let whatever negative impacts I had relinquished affect my inner child, nor did I let them. Words cannot describe how scary this was for me. No longer was it about a temporary item that I would later replace. I was in risk of losing my life. In order to prevent that from happening, sparing was the last thing that I was going to. Mercy is given to the ones who deserve it. This entire takes proved who I am and that I am worthy of my gift. And I forever cherish it greatly.

#magic #tumblr fyp #fypシ #mental growth #spiritualgrowth #spirituality #spiritual awakening #experience #mind #inner child #viral #foryoupage #foryou #fyp #fypage

[jadedlavender]

So, I’m not agnostic anymore. You can call me a liar or say that I don’t know who I am but in all reality, it’s YOU that doesn’t know who I am. I, knowing myself, accept that I don’t have my mind made up about every aspect of the universe and what makes it up and what’s truth and what’s not, but I can accept that things change. Just because I’m not the same person I was even six months ago, does not mean I don’t know who I am or that I’ve lied. It simply means that I’ve decided on the feeling that I no longer feel alone.

Back when I was first going through my divorce, I couldn’t believe all that had happened. I was lost and angry. My life feels like it has just been a series of big trauma after big trauma and I have the PTSD diagnosis to prove that. I was overwhelmed and depressed and I remember being at my wits end and one last thing went wrong and it pushed me right over. I remember walking into my parents house and telling my mom that the God she believed in didn’t exist. That nothing did. That there was no one out there who gave any kind of shit about any of us with tears rolling down my cheeks at the defeat of it all. And in that moment, I truly believed it. It was such a low feeling but somehow saying those words out loud was like physically hitting a brick wall. And it knocked the fucking wind out of me. It brought me to a place even lower than I had previously felt. That was the bottom of the bottom and for the first time in all of my life I actually felt alone.

I think it’s pretty weird considering all the things I’ve done and seen. The trauma, the ugliness, and pure evil in this world and somehow I still never quite felt really alone. But this was different. I finally felt the detach. Like those words were the scissors that cut that tie. An emptiness and hopelessness I can’t even describe was on the other side of those words and saying them made it true. After a few weeks of desperation at the newness of my feelings and wanting no part of them, I asked God where he was. I asked him how if he cared for me at all how is was that my life had turned into this.

I instantly was flooded with this knowing of the fact that I have free will. Everything that I had done had been my own choice and everything that I had gone through were consequences of those choices. But I swear on everything, like a movie in my minds eye, played out every dangerous scenario that had happened to me or that I had been involved in within the last 15 years and and the ending to each one where I had gotten out. I had escaped. Someone came to help in the nick of time. In every awful situation, I could still somehow look back and miraculously say, “It could have been worse.”

As soon as the sequence of events played out in my mind and that epiphany came to light, I instantly heard a voice in my consciousness say. “I’ve been with you the whole time, and I’ve been protecting you.”

And no I don’t mean I heard a voice out loud speaking to me. Please don’t go there. Last time I checked, I don’t hallucinate (at least sober mindedly 😝) so this is not a mental health crisis emerging. But literally my own consciousness spoke to me and let me know exactly what I had just asked of God to answer for me. The realization hit me just as hard as the ton of bricks as the previous words that I had spoken had, only having the reverse effect. And suddenly I just knew. And that feeling of emptiness and hopelessness vanished. I no longer felt alone. I felt protected, and guided.

I know in my heart and in my soul that God is real and he has been my helper and strength this entire time. Weather or not I ever realized it. It took many heartbreaks and worlds crashing down for me to come back to a place where the influence is all around me, and maybe it was all for a purpose. I still don’t jive with organized religion because that’s when I think it becomes dangerous. Less about the relationship and more about the rules. Like any relationship, there shouldn’t be “rules”. There should be enough respect to do and not do certain things to show somebody that you love and care for them and I feel like that’s how it should be with God as well.

I don’t have it all completely worked out. I still don’t love the things I read in the Bible or agree with a lot of it and I still have feelings on past lives and reincarnation. No one will ever completely know the truth, but one thing I know is that all the things I’ve seen and places I’ve been, I should probably be dead or at least have had a lot worse happen to me and it didn’t. Somehow. It didn’t. And I know that when I stop praying, I feel alone and when I do pray, I don’t. I have tried going a day without speaking to my father and I found it nearly impossible. I lean on him every second. And he answered me. Always.

So judge me. Consider me gross, uncool. I don’t give a fuck because you’ll be the only one judging. Just because someone believes in God does not mean it is their right or place to judge. My only job is to love. Everyone. Like I have been loved by HIM.

[nightengale82]

#HealingMessyMommy #9

Awakening. Healing. Transformation.

These have been the reoccurring themes in my life over the last few months, and I am so grateful to have been able to get to the other side of this whole “Dark night of the soul” business. I know it will take me some time to acclimate, process, integrate… and fully step into my authentic being, into my true power: my Divine Feminine.

There is a major problem today… Within our society, within our American ideals, within this insane narrative that is being forced down our throats: and we have been so programmed and conditioned to be “inclusive” and so “woke” that no one is talking about it.

I consider myself a “Die-Hard Feminist”

Now… that’s obviously not an official term or an ideology, it’s just how I like to describe myself; because I am a free thinker, I two have daughters I would kill for and die to protect… and I’ve studied Women’s History, so I’m educated in the topic.

Wake up, people!

Whatever you people are calling Feminism today- is NOT helping us.

It’s hurting us.

People are ignorant, blind to the harm it’s causing our youth, and the next generation.

I will be the first to admit, when the LBGTQ issue became a feminist issue… I didn’t see a problem. I personally don’t have anything against a marginalized community joining our cause, and was sold the idea that LBGTQ issues- are human rights issues.

Welp. I was wrong.

That was before trans people wanted to compete and dominate in women’s collegiate sports.

Fucking mind blowing that the people “in charge” would allow this to happen.

Or that Caitlyn Jenner would be named “Woman of the Year” by fucking God Damned People Magazine.

I’m sorry, but NO. That isn’t feminism. It adds insult to injury and the media isn’t going to gaslight me into believing that trans people have the same experience, I do- as a woman. Big, fat NO.

The last thing I will say about this topic is how horrifying it is that they push it on these teenagers at the absolute most vulnerable times in their lives. Statistically, many trans people who undergo the sex change surgery are suicidal at around 5 years after their transformations. How does this fix the problem?

This is not Feminism! You’re not going to convince me it is! Has everyone lost their fucking minds?! Wayyyy off topic!!

REMINDER!! The definition of the word Feminism is:

The advocacy of women’s equal: political, social, and economic rights to men.

And so because of all this trans business: that the media wants you to believe is the new “feminism”

We can’t even talk about the real areas that need to be addressed within the women’s movement today.

It’s a distraction to keep us divided, confused, and afraid. And I for one, am not going to stand for it any longer.

Here’s the thing guys. Your new “Feminism” is destroying the nuclear families across the United States. Think about it for a moment. I won’t even bother collecting the statistics to prove my point:

THE PERSONAL IS POLITICAL

Modern day dating

Children growing up in broken homes

Little girls having no example of healthy relationships

Boys having to learn how to be men from their mothers

The rise in alcoholism and addiction

The rise in mental health crisis in both sexes

This entire society is stuck in fight or flight mode in our relationships with the opposite sex because we are acting like there’s not a problem, and we haven’t admitted our childhood trauma affects our adult relationships. And now, we are dragging our children into it, and passing down unhealthy coping mechanisms and behaviors to them.

We are in denial of what is happening… until it comes into your home, and shows up in the people you love the most. And then we all gotta act like we are fucking okay? We’re just going to ignore the elephant in the proverbial room? In 2023?

NOPE.

Absolutely the fuck not.

We’re fucking better than this. We have to start talking about it.

This is not the legacy that I will be leaving to my girls.

Welcome back y’all, to

Healing Messy Mommy

Because Healing is Messy… and today, I GET to.

Stay tuned.

#BetterNotBitter #HealingMessyMommy #Gratitude #Abundance #AscendedFeminism #SelfLove #DivineFeminine #AwakenedMasculine #DivineCounterpart #SpiritualAwakening

[wittez]

looking for attention

  EPISODE ZERO.

in which we meet kozume kenma, age seventeen and in desperate need of some sleep.

( a prologue. )

  [IDOL CAMP JP] ARE YOU READY TO PRODUCE THE HOTTEST NEW BOY GROUP THIS YEAR?

[+3,672, -1,739] another season of this???? for real??? we got the point 4 seasons ago

[+2,193, -509] mf focus on last year’s winners before making a new damn group i bet they already made friends with the rats in the basement from how little promotions they get

“you look like an idiot, kuro.”

the idiot in question shoots him a wink in lieu of giving him anything resembling a real reply, the golden sunlight filling in the clubroom via the dull windows kenma’s so painstakingly tried cleaning over and over again illuminating sharp features arranged in a soft expression. “wanna help me out? i need a backup dancer for this next song,” kuroo doesn’t even bother pausing the camcorder that sits smack in the middle of the room for this intermission, a relic from an older time courtesy of a box of his sister’s forgotten belongings after moving out. if kenma mentioned it the older boy would claim he’d edit out the irrelevant footage later, but kenma’s not so sure he can trust his word on it.

“pass. i’m tired already,” says kenma, eyes remaining trained on the rpg menu displayed on his psp’s screen. now, if he was in a game, this is right about the time he’d choose the FLEE option.

unfortunately, this time it’s kuroo’s turn to act. “c’mon, bro. just one song, alright?” kenma doesn’t know why kuroo even asks in the first place; because if there’s one thing about him it’s he doesn’t accept a no for an answer. he’s persistent to a fault, really. resourceful, kuroo would correct him with the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. irritating is the word kenma finds far more apt to describe his best friend. maybe kuroo’s trying to craft a pantomime of politeness, but after knowing him for this many years that’s more laughable than it is convincing. and he didn’t even throw in a please or thank you, so is it even that skilled of a performance to begin with?

it’s tuesday, and school’s been out for the day for a couple hours by now— it’s late enough that the rest of the dance club is long gone after a chorus of invitations to karaoke and see you tomorrows, yet judging by the sun outside it’s still early enough that kenma’s mother won’t get on his case for not being home by dinnertime. not yet, anyway. she will if kuroo keeps him here much longer, though, especially given that today’s a shogiyaki kind of day.

this is how kozume kenma caves, after a cursory glance at the time on his smartphone; when it’s not kuroo coercing him directly it’s by proxy, and in this case the impending threat of doom via his mom is enough for awkward, sore limbs to slowly struggle into an upright position. “sure, i guess.” hell hath no fury like a mother scorned, after all, and there’s little that pisses the woman off more than the sanctity of family dinners being perturbed by scheduling conflicts.

kenma pads into frame, languid footsteps leading him to kuroo’s side. if he said the blinking red light of the video camera doesn’t have stage fright seeping into the spaces between every joint of his body as though it were synovial fluid that would be about as honest as saying cows are blue, but nobody asked him and thus he won’t mention it at all.

like most things in kenma’s life, of course, that later proves to be the wrong choice.

because, a week or five after the fact, wonderful news befall upon a barely-conscious kenma on a saturday at a time far too early to be pleasant (for any species other than whatever those birds that just love chirping first thing in the day are, anyway).

LOOK SUSPICIOUS? MARK AS SPAM         (YES / NO)

FROM: [email protected]

SUBJECT: FWD: Your application for Idol Camp JP

ur about to be mad as hell but LOOOOOKKKKK!!!!

— ORIGINAL MESSAGE —

Congratulations, KOZUME KENMA! Your application has passed the last round of reviewing. You are now officially a contestant for this year’s season of Idol Camp JP! We are looking forward to having you.

Filming starts on January 20 of the current year. To finalize the application process, please visit our offices before the 15th of this month within business hours (…)

Kind regards,

The team of Idol Camp JP.

for the sake of being totally transparent, let’s clear one thing up right here and now: kenma never submitted that application.

kuroo did on his behalf as a complete and utter intrusion to kenma’s autonomy, where the justification of such a vile action was, in his own words, something as senseless as: “you’re crazy talented, kenma. i know you’re pretty shy, but you can’t gatekeep that from the whole world forever! besides, even just being there will be good for you. a learning experience, and whatever. you know what they say! the journey is as important as the destination, and all that.” that old saying has about as little correlation to the problem at hand as apples do to trains, and this is the part where kenma taps his phone screen with purpose to end the phone call without even bothering to gratify kuroo’s speech with a response.

on kenma’s behalf, kuroo can go to hell.

kozume kenma’s set on enjoying his breakfast, a plate of soft-boiled eggs accompanied by pickled plum and a cup of steaming hot green tea, only to then climb back in bed and, upon waking back up again, realizing the entire day thus far has merely been a nightmare with just about enough realism sprinkled in to scare him shitless. he’d text kuroo afterwards, some lazy approach to pettiness such as “you pissed me off in my dream, so i’m not going to practice this week,” or perhaps even a “when i see you next, remind me to punch you btw” if kozume’s feeling particularly feisty. if he’s lucky, he’ll get another good two or three hours of sleep…

we should keep the following in mind, however: kozume kenma is not a lucky person.

would not know the definition of the word ‘luck’ if it hit him like an uncoordinated forearm to the face or a heel with a particularly thick soled shoe digging into his metatarsals, in fact, which both had very much happened just the day prior. this is exactly why kuroo beats him to the punch, then, kenma’s smartphone all but burning a hole into his pocket with the quick succession of dings! and the nonstop vibrations all throughout the remainder of his cup of tea.

it’s not until he’s wrapped up doing the dishes that he finally sits down and checks his messages, giving the poor phone a borderline accusatory glance as though it’s the innocent electronic’s fault that kenma’s just this fucking hapless.

KURO: itll be just fine!! im gonna be there too yknow~

KURO: so ill have your back all the time! were gonna always be in teams together

KURO: ill make sure of it, so trust me!

resourceful, the word echoes in his head, the space of his cranium reverberating with the sound. if there’s one good thing about kuroo, it has to be that he always keeps his promises.

ME: ok

ME: u already signed me up anyway so

ME: might as well ig

KURO: great!! i knew youd want to give it a try kenma

KURO: im so proud of you

KURO: let’s get some extra practice in from now until the 20th, okay???

KURO: some of my friends will be there too and i don’t wanna let them win

ME: what friends…

briefly, kenma considers blocking kuroo’s number before the other gets to answer his question, far too scared of what the reply may be.

and then, he actually does it.

****

   EPISODE ONE.

enter kuroo tetsurou, the culprit of everything that’s ever gone wrong in kenma’s life.

  [IDOL CAMP JP] ALL 101 CONTESTANTS PROFILES REVEALED!

[+1,277, -243] aw, the kid with the pudding head is kinda cute… he looks like someone threatened him into getting his photo taken and all, but that’s kind of what makes him charming wwww

[+333, -115] what’s with this show? seriously, all these guys look like middle schoolers… TT

kenma stares at the wall ahead of him, crisp ice blue paint marred by an assortment of signatures and goals, realistic and borderline imaginary alike, scribbled with a dissonance of contrasting— not complementary –colored markers. if kenma was just a smidge more easily influenced perhaps their motivation and optimism would rub off on him, but he’s just not that kind of guy… he can be influenced enough to come here in the first place, that’s one thing, but there’s just no way he can be talked into having a good time while at it, not at all, because now that would just be plain ridiculous!

besides, he ponders as he paces across the room following along the length of the wall, most if not all of these are pretty basic phrases… it’s “let’s make our dreams come true!” on top of “do your best!” with a thick layer of “good luck!” laid across it all, and as narrow golden eyes give the glorified graffiti a once over the only thing of interest they can find is a particular name kanji, one they pause to wonder on its meaning for a second or two to promptly disregard the thought just about as quickly as it had come. generalized positivity seems like little more than the most superficial kind of wishful thinking, and while kenma would rather put his faith onto something more solid like his own skills (or alternatively, wish upon the downfall of the other contestants), he reasons everyone has their own ways of coping with the discomfort of being in this strange, new environment.

as for kenma himself… well, he’s still looking for it! now accepting suggestions, just text +81-xxx-xxx…

next to him, kuroo pretty much bounces in place. you’d think with such a tall frame he’d have enough place to store all that energy and then some, but unfortunately for kenma, kuroo’s a freak of nature who must be of an entirely different species from homo sapiens sapiens. “liven up a little, kenma. we’re already here, right? might as well enjoy it now!” the look kenma shoots him then is a cross between a threat of violence and intent to study him under a microscope with a 100x lens (and he can almost imagine the little spiky-haired cells he’d get out of it, too, the shameless microbes laughing at him as they swim in an ocean of methylene blue).

arms folded tightly across the taller’s wide chest betray near to nothing as he scans the aforementioned wall of dreams, but kenma knows better; it’s all hidden within high cheekbones and poorly-concealed dark undereyes adorned with bags from a bad night’s sleep, presumably from being unable to keep the excitement of what was to come the following day from letting his imagination run wild.

now, as his friend looks down at him after noticing his stare, his gaze is curious—it’s a silent question kenma isn’t sure how to answer, so in its place he only shakes his head in response. albeit lazy the movement is enough to have his hair, bleached blonde and reaching the halfway point between his chin and his shoulders, bob along with the motion. “you want me to liven up when i have to live with a hundred people in a high-stress environment.” the words are spoken flatly, oddly reminiscent of a soft drink that’s been opened and left out in the sun for a long, long time. during the summer. and if he’s being honest, that just about encapsulates how kenma feels at the thought of this being his life for the next couple months… or just a few weeks, hopefully!

kuroo just smiles down at him, all perfectly straight teeth and a promise of sincerity shoved somewhere between his central incisors. “a hundred people’s nothing you can’t handle, kenma. there’s three times that, easy, at every dance competition we’ve been to!” that does little to alleviate kenma’s anxiety, but at least he’s trying… or so kenma figures, at least.

kenma merely blinks in response, long and slow, much like a cat particularly looking forward to nap time would.

behind them, a boy who is more lanky than he is boy trots up with beads of sweat gathering up by his brow. “i’m sorry, i’m late!” he calls as kenma looks him up and down, flashy outfit blinding his eyes for a moment. the scarlet sequins don’t fit the rest of the newcomer’s colorimetry, all gray hair and pale skin with teal eyes to boot, but kenma doesn’t say that part out loud.

actually, he says nothing at all. he doesn’t have to, because this guy just starts spouting off random information like nobody’s business. and it is, in fact, not any of kenma’s business. “my name is haiba lev, it’s so nice to meet you!” he bows, a movement so clumsy he nearly collides with kuroo’s torso in the process. “i’m, like, soooo happy to be here. like, you don’t even know! my family’s already telling the whole town to vote for me, and…”

if this guy keeps talking, kenma’s brain isn’t there to hear it. it escaped through his ears a sentence or two ago, swearing it’d just take a short and well-deserved vacation for only a second…

“kozume, kuroo, haiba. all ready? you guys are up next.” the sound that booms over the loudspeakers by the ceiling leans more towards crackled static rather than a voice, enough so that kenma wouldn’t be sure of what he just heard if it weren’t for the weight of kuroo’s hand on his shoulder as an unspoken nudge of encouragement.

well, that was one short second.

it’s not until now that reality truly sets in. as anxiety infiltrates his bones kuroo’s hand only begins to feel all that much heavier, presumably due to his skeleton slowly degrading as stress chips away at every millimeter of its surface, from his phalanges to his frontal bone. “kenma?” even though he hears kuroo’s voice loud and clear, kenma chooses to ignore him in favor of pondering what his death certificate will be like. if nothing else, this shit’s gonna be a real funny cause of death! see, it’ll look a little bit like this:

NAME: KOZUME KENMA

AGE: 17

CAUSE OF DEATH: HIS BONES ERODED SO BADLY DUE TO STRESS HIS SKELETON BECAME KINDA SQUISHY AND COLLAPSED DUE TO THE WEIGHT OF THE REST OF HIS BODY. A TOTAL FUCKING LOSER, IF YOU ASK ME!

“if the kid won’t go out, you two are gonna have to go ahead without him.” now, this voice is one kenma doesn’t recognize. “not the producers will be happy about it, though. didn’t you sign a long-ass contract? i didn’t get to read all of it, but some parts of it were stone cold, man!” what is familiar to him, however, is the weight on his other shoulder— god, does kuroo want to speedrun kenma’s fall, or something? since when are hands this heavy…?

a blink, long and slow once more.

and then another one, as if just for good measure, as he tries to get himself into a headspace fit for survival. well, he’s already here. that much is an unavoidable truth he can do nothing about now that he’s already signed his soul away to the evil machine that is this god damn broadcasting corporation, other than go out there and do so fucking badly he’s expelled on sight.

ACTUALLY… THAT DOESN’T SOUND HALF BAD!

fueled by a newfound resolve kenma brushes his hair out of his eyes, tucking it behind his ears. his forearm is held out in front of him and he taps it with the opposite fist, as though trying to ensure he hasn’t effectively turned to jelly just in case.

which, truth be told, wouldn’t be all that horrible. at least then that’d get him out of this one…

and because this is real life his bones are still made of, unfortunately, bone. “ummm, sorry… i spaced out,” briefly, kenma thinks he sees concern flash across kuroo’s features. but he’s still trying to focus his gaze back on the world surrounding him in the first place, and so he doesn’t pay it much mind.

the first thing he notices after exiting the narrow hallway all three were led through, the other guy ranting and raving about whatever inane thing his mind has decided to zone in on for that specific fraction of a second, are the bright stage lights overhead. the second thing kenma sees are a hundred (and one!) chairs arranged neatly in a pyramid shape, with each step containing less and less steps. little more than half of them are already occupied by boys happily chattering away, the ones presumably guilty of defacing the poor wall he’d seen earlier, and kenma shortly entertains the thought of wanting to know whoever this nishinoya guy is because really, if a person’s handwriting is that horrendous they’re certain to be quite the character.

…

on second thought, he doesn’t want to know him.

kenma doesn’t have to think twice about it before beelining in the direction of the very last seat, made of a clear material and accented with a 101 in glittery silver numbers, kuroo’s protests of at least going for seat 50 falling upon ears that aren’t deaf—they’re simply selectively closed for the time being.

if one thing is certain, it’s that murphy’s law never fails. so, let’s see how this goes.

#word count: 2996

[beautifullybrokenbabydoll]

It's funny how time actually behaves. One moment it feels like you've been living with the people around you for months if not years but it's barely been thirty days since you've met them. Life has a dark sense of humor by bringing people in and taking them away just as easily. I'll never understand why I was born with a hopeless romantic heart but I hope to one day be able to have my expectations blown out of the water. The depth of the love I want to share with someone is nearly unimaginable. Words to describe such a feeling don't exist. They just appear and exist. Just when I think I've met the person who will share eternity with me... I've once again chosen wrong. I have injured my fragile heart one too many times. The burden of a hopeless romantic heart is a hard one to carry. When you lay alone at night, unable to sleep because you wonder what it would be like for you to share a bed with someone. Instead of sharing warmth with another. You are met with the icy of loneliness. A cold that can't be warmed with your own touch. But the cure for loneliness doesn't exist. Its only medicated. I would rather carry a heavy heart than pick up the smashed pieces over and over by people who have no regard for me. I may not get the world. But I deserve love just as anyone else does. It hurts more knowing that deserve a rich love and no longer believe I will ever find it. Have I just put myself at too high of standards? No. I know my standard were once too low. I chose people I thought I belonged with. Never thought I could have the bare minimum. Because why would a selfish low life get to be treated like a human? A person with feelings. Now I am self aware of my value within the living world. I thought I would feel enlightened, freed from the poison in my head. And instead of crying over not having him. I cry over the fact I have found myself aching over a fairytale that I had imagined. Ignoring the signs. I once again put myself through pain that I convinced myself I escaped. I let someone walk over me. I people pleased too much. But it's because no matter how I see my worth, I'm dying inside to have my slice of happiness with another just as other hopeless romantics do. I just have to believe it will one day find me. Because I have given up on finding it myself, become hopeless to it... it's just as hard to let go what I view as perfect. I have to let go more... if I always cling to something in fear of losing it... it will only hurt more when I do in fact lose them, whether it be to death or simply because they proved to not the person I idoilized... here's to hoping I stop holfding people in a higher trgard than myself and that I can continue to be more tender and passionate to myself for just trying to find my happy ending.

#11242022 #late night thoughts #late night #late night rambles #late night ramblings #writings of a hopeless romantic #hopeless romantic #self love #self reflection #patience #love heart #broken heart #heartache #heart of gold #late night writing #original writing #my writing