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#like i KNOW none of this is useful or material in a certain sense and like. ultimately i'm chewing on this bc i'm not living
judeswhore · 2 years
Note
What about the soft blurb idea of drunk Steve and drunk reader cuddling on the floor? Love your blog btw!!
thank you bff😙 soft drunk steve >> i want him desperately
"baby, you're too far away." steve's fingers wrapped warm around your ankle, tugged a little as he pouted up at you from his place on the kitchen floor. you were standing just off to his side, reaching to grab a box of pop tarts from his cupboard, trying not to stumble and trip with the amount of alcohol running through your system. with a soft giggle you let him pull you down, landed a little heavily against his chest, finding even more amusement at the huff of pain he let out.
"m'sorry, stevie, you're just-" a hiccup stopped your sentence short, made both you and steve snort as you rearranged yourself, shifted so your body was pressed against his side. "just in the way." you let your head rest against his arm, set the box of opened treats on his stomach and kissed his jaw. "you only have strawberry pop tarts."
"you only like strawberry pop tarts." with one hand he struggled to pull a biscuit from the box, crumbs landing on his shirt and dusting on to the floor. he snapped it in half, held one part in front of your face and wiggled it teasingly until you bit your teeth into it and took it from him with a grateful hum. pressed in close to steve, you held it in one hand, nibbled on the corner while trying to keep your eyes open.
"i wanted the chocolate ones."
"you don't like chocolate ones."
"how do you know?"
"because you've told me. like, a hundred times." steve nudged you, grinned against the top of your head when you dug your toes into his leg. you were certain he was getting crumbs all over you, you'd definitely made a mess of his shirt but you couldn't bring yourself to care, too comfortable in his arms despite the coldness of the floor seeping through your clothes. "you think the ceiling looks funny?"
"no, you're just drunk, steve harrington."
"nuh uh, the light is swaying." you gazed up at the ceiling, squinted at the light before giggling softly, nodding against the material of steve's shirt. you pushed your half eaten pop tart back into the box despite steve's protests, pushed them off his stomach and on to the floor.
"do you think it'll fall on us?"
"hmm, maybe. i'll, like, roll over and protect you."
"y'might squish me."
"you'd rather be squished by a light than by me?" you were both stifling laughter, laughter at a situation that wasn't really all that funny but you were drunk, senses warped and distorted and everything was always funnier that way. with one hand you swiped the crumbs off his shirt, brushed them onto the floor without any care for the mess you were making.
"i'd rather not be squished at all. who would drive the kids around if we were flattened?" you shifted in his arms, turned your body so you could half drape yourself over his chest. you leant your arms over him, propped your chin against them and smiled almost sleepily at him. he used one arm to rest his head on, eyes cast down to meet your gaze, his other hand settled on your lower back.
"max."
"you'd let her drive your car?"
"don't be ridiculous, she'll have to find her own." you made a noise, soft and low in your throat, pressed a kiss to his chest. he watched you with lowered lashes, one side of his mouth tilted in a soft smile and for a few seconds you mapped out his features. the gentle flush to his cheeks, the slightly glazed over look in his eyes, the shadows cast by his lashes and the soft slope of his nose. his eyes were almost all pupil, that brown you adore so much practically none exist but still so captivating. the summer sun had brought out his freckles, dusted them over the bridge of his nose and the high points of his cheeks and he made a surprised sound when you stretched and kissed the darker moles on his cheeks.
"you're so pretty." your lips met each of the beauty marks, found the ones on his neck when he tilted his head for you. you smiled, hid it away when you nuzzled into the space between his shoulder and neck. you knew the floor was uncomfortable, knew it was probably making steve's back ache but he seemed content to stay exactly where he was, his fingers slipping beneath your shirt to find your bare skin. "i spy something yellow." your words were muffled by his skin, lips warm and he held back a shiver, let his eyes wander the kitchen.
steve's fingers were hot on your skin, brushing and tracing over your back, absentminded shapes and words, his name written over and over. even when he let his fingers dip lower, feel over the curve of your ass and down over your thigh, his touch was innocent, filled with softness and adoration. he kissed your head, held his lips there as he thought over his guesses.
“y’know you can’t say my sweater because it’s on the hallway floor so it doesn’t count.” he mumbled into the top of your head, wondering if you’d decided to cheat and use his yellow sweater that he’d discarded just outside the kitchen door despite the fact you couldn’t actually see it.
“s’not that.”
“there’s nothing yellow in here.” you huffed a laugh, lifted your head with a grin, propped yourself back against his chest and tried not to shiver when the tips of his fingers teased just beneath the band of your trousers. steve raised his eyebrows at you, shuffled his head to get a little bit more comfortable beneath you.
“there is. near the fridge.” the space between his brows crinkled and he craned his neck to see what you were talking about, scanning the space for anything that could be yellow. he came up empty, tickled his fingers over your waist.
“there’s nothing, you’re cheating.”
“am not.”
“what is it then?” he shifted up on his hands, you lifting with him, your hand pressed to the floor beside his hip to keep you steady. his hair was falling onto his forehead, soft and product free and he hummed in delight when you carded your fingers through it.
“dustin’s cap.” both of you turned and steve finally spotted his younger friends “camp know where” cap he’d left the last time he’d been around. he huffed, tickled you again until you squirmed, buried yourself in his chest.
“that’s not fair, it’s yellow and green.”
“still yellow.”
“not completely.”
“doesn’t matter.”
“you’re a cheat.”
“you’re just a sore loser.”
“i’m so-” before steve could finish you leant in, pressed your mouth over his in a kiss, parted his lips against yours. he made a surprised but pleased sound, gripped your waist and tugged you closer, pulled you until you were settled in his lap, knees against his hips. “you never play fair.”
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sophierequests · 2 years
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hey!
i literally binge read all your kaz fics so i was wondering if you could write a kaz x reader where the reader is a love interest? defiantly something fluffy if possible
maybe as a prompt the reader is a uni student and none of the crows no about her but they’ve noticed kaz sneaking out to see her so they follow him and they finally meet? no pressure at all, just a suggestion!! 🫶
i can't deny it any longer
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Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Requests
Pairing: Kaz Brekker x f!Reader
A/N: Hi, love! I noticed your Kaz binge and I really appreciated it <333 I'm so glad you like what I write. I got way too deep into this request, but I really adored writing it, so I hope you like it. Even though it's a bit long. This is just filled to the brim with pining and fluff, but I'm not sorry. Thank you for the request!
Summary: An unlikely friendship gets revealed, and the Crows intend to make more of it.
Genre: Fluff and Comedy
Word Count: 6.6K (This is the longest fic I ever wrote and I have no clue why dsaljh)
Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, feelings and ripping peoples' eyes out :D
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None of the Crows dared to speak on the walk back to the Slat. The job had been a complete disaster, and Kaz was fuming. Not even Inej, who had never feared Kaz’s outbursts before, attempted to talk him down. This was going to be a fun evening.
When they finally reached the Slat, he didn’t even spare them one word before he limped up the worn staircase that lead to his office. They didn’t go after him. It was best to allow him to sort things out on his own, rather than giving him another reason to lash out at them. Instead, they huddled together in the living room area to assess and treat their wounds, also bringing a few bottles of whiskey into the equation while they were at it.
Half an hour later, they heard heavy footsteps accompanied by the clicking of a cane coming down the stairs. All of them readied themselves for the berating of a lifetime once Kaz would reach their floor, but the footsteps didn’t come closer. The footsteps started to fade and become barely audible until the front door of the Slat was slammed shut. The rest of the Crows just gaped at each other with questioning glances, only Inej silently slipping towards the window, trying to spot him in the colourful crowd outside. But he was already too far away for anyone to see him.
“Phew, that was a close one,” Jesper exclaimed enthusiastically, taking another sip from his drink. “I doubt that I could have dealt with another one of his tirades on gun safety or no gambling on the job.” His voice mocked Kaz’s stern intonation, but no one seemed to latch onto the joke. He only earned a dismissive look from Wylan, who was still busy dusting the soot off his jacket.
“Where do you think he’s going?” Nina asked, her head turning to the Suli girl still residing at the window. As much as the Heartrender wanted to be mad at him, she knew that Kaz wasn’t necessarily skilled at taking care of himself or knowing when to stop, so she still felt a certain sense of dread.
“He’s probably off to get his head smashed in because he can’t take a loss,” Matthias grumbled, leaning back into the cushion of the couch, a prominent frown on his face. Nina only gave him a jab to the rips in an effort to reprimand him.
“I have absolutely no clue.” Inej began with a huffed breath. “But I’m sure that he knows exactly where he’s going.”
“What does that mean?” Wylan raised his brows.
“He’s been secretly going out a lot recently. Specifically at night or when he thinks that no one is watching. I began noticing it three weeks ago and I didn’t think it was that odd. However, by now I’m starting to get a bit worried. He always leaves when something went wrong and I just can’t seem to figure out where he’s going.”
“And you’ve been keeping that from us the whole time?” Jesper questioned, a devilish grin settling on his lips. “That is perfect blackmailing material, Inej! Kaz Brekker, sneaking out in the middle of the night to do what? Does he have a second identity that he’s been hiding from us? Is he off to go on secret jobs? Or maybe he’s visiting his secret partner?”
“Kaz Brekker having a secret partner?” Nina snorted, very much enjoying the way this conversation developed. “You don’t really think that’s likely, do you?”
“That’s the thing that you hold to be the least likely?” Wylan muttered amusedly.
“Have you ever tried to track him?” The Sharpshooter directed his question at Inej again. He was determined to know everything and would not stop until he did. “I mean, we evidently all care about his well-being,” his tone was audibly sarcastic, even though everyone knew that he actually did care, “so it would be best to keep tabs on him.”
“I did once. Somehow he knew that I was there and he told me off. From then on I didn’t feel like it would have been appropriate. He obviously doesn’t want us to know, and I think we should respect that.”
“Well, I think we should follow him the next time. Just to check up on him, of course” By now Jesper was fully convinced of getting behind his friend’s secret nights out. He exchanged a devious glance with Nina, whereas the other three Crows just rolled their eyes. They would definitely tag along, though.
On the other side of Ketterdam, you were busy finishing your last exam of the semester. It had been quite the straining term, so you were glad to finally be done with it. Once you left the exam hall, the light of the day had already subsided, announcing a bleak evening.
Normally, you wouldn’t have gone straight home after taking an exam, but none of your friends had to take the same exam, so they wouldn’t have been down for your usual visit to the local pubs. And going out alone was absolutely not an option that you would consider. Well, you would have considered it if you had the chance to visit a particular club. However, walking around the Barrel at night as a young university student with basically no self-defence skills didn’t seem like the best idea if you plan on finishing your degree. Realistically, you also had only one good reason to drop by the gambling den anyway. A reason that you were way too invested in and that probably didn’t even like you back.
You bit the inside of your cheek as your mind was invaded by thoughts about Kaz Brekker. The friendship between the two of you was fairly unlikely to anyone else. The Bastard of a Barrel being friends with a plain university student. But after you had caught him red-handed while he tried to steal classified institute information, yet still decided to let him go, he became instantly interested in getting to know more about you. At first, you assumed that he only wanted to get close to you since you had easy access to quite a few institutes and libraries. Well, it turns out that that wasn’t exactly the case. Your small flat became something close to a retreat to him. Whenever things at the Slat started to weigh down on him, he would come to you. It was an odd picture, watching Dirtyhands, one of the most feared men in Ketterdam, sprawled out on your couch, ranting about his day, but by now it was almost like a habit.
For some reason, the young crime boss had managed to fully capture your interest. In other words, you were completely and utterly besotted with him. And it was humiliating to say the least. He would never be able to love you back. Not the way you did at least.
You had been so lost in thought that you hadn’t even acknowledged where you were going until you stood at the main entrance of your flat building. You were definitely in need of a nap. After climbing the mountain of stairs leading up to your door, that is. But when you were just about to pull the bundle of keys out of your pocket, you heard a chair scraping over the floorboards inside your room. Maybe you had to scratch that well-deserved nap.
With cautious steps, you crept towards the door, pulling out the delicate dagger you kept attached to your belt - of course, a gift from Kaz. Even though the University District wasn’t too far away from the Barrel, there never had been a break-in close to your flat unit before, so the prospect of a stranger currently rummaging through your belongings scared you greatly. Slowly you pressed down the handle, allowing you to see inside the cramped flat. As your eyes roamed the small space, they were met with another pair of eyes staring back at them. You were close to letting out a shriek until you realised who the stranger was.
The dark-clad figure stretched out in one of your armchairs, discarding the book he had been browsing through. He acted as if it was completely reasonable for him to be in your home without you knowing about it. You closed the door behind you, considering whether you should scold him or whether you should be glad that he was here.
“Put the knife down, love.” Saints, how you hated him addressing you with these damned cutesy pet names. “You’d be more likely to accidentally pluck someone’s eye out than to actually defend yourself judging by the way you’re holding it.” Bastard.
“I’d say plucking someone’s eye out would be a great way to defend myself.” You dropped your bag at the entrance, walked over to the living room and sat on the armrest of your couch to calm your aggressively thudding heart.
“Not if you do it by accident. That would probably count as aggravated assault if you’d ask the Staadwatch.”
“As if you care about that the Staadwatch has to say.” He chuckled in response to that. He didn’t laugh - you weren’t even sure if he could - but a chuckle from Kaz Brekker was enough to make your head spin. Pathetic. “On another note, please tell me that you didn’t break in through the window again. I’m running out of excuses for all the scratches on the window sill.”
“I promise that I didn’t break in through the window.”
“Thank you.”
“I picked the lock on your front door this time.” You groaned, whilst simultaneously biting back a grin. “And I would also advise you to get new ones. They are way too flimsy. Very easy to outsmart. Especially for people with ill intentions.”
“Aw, that almost sounds like you care about me, Brekker.” He didn’t have one of his usual cocky comebacks at hand, so he merely gave you a warning glare, knowing that you weren’t afraid of him. As crazy as it sounded, you fully trusted him to never harm you.
For the first time this evening, you allowed yourself to take a proper look at the man across from you. It wasn't unusual for him to look like an utter mess when he pays you a visit, today he seemed just a bit more burnt out than what you were used to. There were prominent bags under his eyes, a stark contrast to the marble-like paleness of his skin. His hair was slightly dishevelled and it didn't help that he continuously ran his hand through it. All in all, he looked like he should've retired to bed a long time ago. Instead, he was here.
“Didn’t you have a job today? Shouldn’t you still be off completing some teenage criminal business?” You inquired, not necessarily caring too much about the bloody details of his work, but wanting him to continue talking. He scowled and that already told you the reason for today’s visit. “Ah, it went well I assume.”
“Don’t get me started.” You got him started. In fact, his rant almost took one hour, only allowing you to give some sparse comments in between. You would have to lie if you said that you were actively listening to what he was saying. As soon as he started telling you about how his ‘Plan F’ failed, you had already forgotten the initial intent of the mission.
“If I had stayed at the Slat any longer I would probably have ripped somebody’s eyes out,” Kaz gnarled and judging by his expression he was being completely serious.
“Good to know that coming here calms your murderous tendencies, Kaz. Even though, I believe that a good night’s sleep would have done the same thing.”
“Are you implying that you would like me to leave?”
“I’m implying that you look like you haven’t had a proper rest in forever.” You pushed yourself off your makeshift seat, walking over to the cabinet where you kept your alcohol and grabbing one of the rather fancy wine bottles. “Actually, I’m quite glad to have your company. Drinking alone is always such a bummer.” A bit clumsily, you filled up two wine glasses and handed him the slightly fuller one, which he sceptically accepted.
“Are we drinking to celebrate or to forget?” He smirked, raising the glass to his lips and taking a brief sip from it. The eye contact between you never faltered as he spoke. It almost made you forget what you actually wanted to drink on.
“Depending on the exam results, we might have to be a bit ambivalent with our reasoning.” You mirrored his previous movements, the velvety alcohol numbing your throat. You didn’t expect him to remember the fact that you had an exam today, he had so much on his mind without your insignificant ramblings, but his muddled expression told you that he did know.
“You took your final exam for this semester and the first thing you do is go home with the intention of drinking alone?”
“And you just returned from a botched job that cost you a thousand kruge, and presumably a whole bunch of nerves, yet the first thing you do is walk from the Barrel to the University District to stay at a lousy flat?” You gave him a self-satisfied smile, which he only returned with an eye roll.
“Seems like we both tend to go for the unreasonable.” He replied, a foreign sense of sobriety clouding his usually stern and cold eyes. Something clicked inside him after that conversation, but he didn’t have the will to tell you. Not right now.
Kaz only left when he caught the way your head began to slump to the side every other minute and how the time between your yawns got shorter and shorter. When he strode through the streets, he was somewhat startled by the fact that the sun had already begun to rise. He had spent the whole night with you, something he had never dared to do before, the apprehension of becoming too close - too attached - to you constantly lingering in the back of his mind. Tonight felt just right, though. Maybe he could allow himself one more weakness.
Breakfast at the Slat was surprisingly calm. As of now. One Crow was currently still missing, much to the delight of his friends’ mental well-being. Nevertheless, it still made some of them feel uneasy. What did they have to expect once Dirtyhands would join them? Was his absence just there to give them a false sense of security?
“He can’t possibly still be asleep.” Wylan groaned, genuinely just wanting to put the whole situation past him. He hated confrontation, especially when that confrontation was coming from Kaz, but he also hated the uncomfortable tension that was emitting from every single one of his friends.
“I doubt that he slept at all.” Inej returned, her voice still heavy with slumber. “I didn’t hear him coming back yesterday, so it must have been pretty late into the night. He wouldn’t go to bed at that point.”
The firm shutting of the front door made their heads turn. Realistically, it could have been anyone, it’s not like the Slat was inhabited by the Crows alone, but they all had a sneaking suspicion about who it could be.
That suspicion was confirmed once they heard the clinking of a cane coming up the stairs. And this time, the noise approached them determinedly. Kaz entered the room quietly, acknowledging the presence of the others with a mumbled greeting. There was no malice when he spoke, none of his usual venom could be found. Perhaps it was the veil of tiredness that was visible on his features, but he didn’t seem to have the intention of berating them. He looked…at ease?
“Good morning, boss,” Jesper was the first to speak up, causing Inej to give him an alarmed glance. She did not want this to get blown out of proportion, especially not because of one of the Sharpshooter’s humorous comments. “Are my eyes deceiving me or is there a certain lack of a frown on your face?” Alright, here they go again.
Kaz, who had made a beeline to pour himself a cup of morning coffee, didn’t show the underlying discomfort questions like these evoked. It was obvious that all of them were suspecting that something had changed - Saints, it was a miracle that none of them had brought his occasional disappearances up earlier - but he couldn’t allow himself to feed their theories.
“That rang true until you opened your mouth, Jesper.” He groggily replied, deciding that it would be best to avoid them for the remainder of the day.
“He’s totally hiding something,” Nina whispered as they listened to his footsteps disappear upstairs.
“Oh, he so is. But I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.”
To their dismay, Kaz’s secret trips stopped for the following days. But roughly a week after the uncomfortable breakfast encounter, Inej barged into the living room area, a devious grin on her lips - unusual for the normally holier-than-thou Wraith.
“He left! He’s on his way towards the Financial District.” Without wasting any more words, the Crows scrambled to their feet. It looked almost comical, five young adults that were barely done with their teenage years hurrying out of the Slat to stalk one of their friends.
Inej obviously led the party, tracking Kaz from a fair distance without eliciting his attention. Against her initial suggestion, he didn’t choose to stay in the Financial District, rather sternly crossing right through it. His target destination seemed to be the campus of Ketterdam University. But what kind of business would he have here?
They watched as he approached an outdated flat building, entering it without a second thought. Great, now they only had to figure out what room he would be in. They, meaning Inej.
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“Am I dreaming or did Kaz Brekker just knock and act like a normal member of society, instead of breaking into my home as usual?” You quipped, beckoning him to come in with a warm smile. It was embarrassing to say, but even one week of him not coming by felt like an eternity of being deprived of his presence.
“I apologize, the next time I’ll just resort to throwing a brick through your window to not make you question your grip on reality.” It was a stupid joke, a terrible one even, yet you couldn’t help letting out a laugh. A laugh that made Kaz’s mind go blank whenever he heard it.
Today’s visit had no specific reason. He was starting to accept that he didn’t need a specific reason to come here, other than just simply wanting to see you. He wouldn’t say that out loud, and neither would you question it. It was enough to just be here. To hear you laugh at his dry humour. To listen to you talk about your day. Hell, even merely to enjoy the comfortable silence, as long as you were here.
Your usual routine was barely about to begin when one of the tiles on the rooftop next to your window crashed against the cobblestone a few stories lower. The sound of the tile coming down didn’t concern you. The rustling coming from right outside your walls did. You looked over to Kaz, who did not look particularly concerned. A knowing grimace graced the sharp lines of his face.
Without any warning, he pushed himself off the armchair, striding towards the window and forcing it open. You couldn’t see what he was searching for, but you spotted the exact moment when he found it. Judging by the way his jaw clenched you could only pray that he hadn’t gotten both of you into trouble.
“I know that you’re here, Inej.” Inej? The Wraith? What was she doing here? “I know that all of you are here.” His hoarse voice called into the darkness of the night. All of them? This made you a bit anxious. You joined him at the window, though you weren’t able to see anything since respecting his boundaries with touch also meant giving him enough space to move freely.
You almost jumped when a hooded figure appeared at the small platform in front of your window. The person pulled down their head-covering, revealing the apologetic face of a young Suli girl. This had to be Inej, Kaz’s unofficial second in command. He had told you quite a few things about her, but being face to face with her - well, sort of - was completely different. After she had pried her eyes away from Kaz’s menacing stare, she turned to look at you, and you could swear that the faintest hint of a smile flashed over her face.
“Kaz, listen, we’re terribly sorry for invading your personal affairs like that. We were just a bit-”
“You were what? Concerned about my safety? Or just way too curious for your own good?” His voice sounded dangerously low, a tone he had never used in your presence. “Leave. I’ll talk to you - all of you - once I’m back at the Slat.”
“Kaz, let them come in. It’s not a big deal.” Even though you weren’t sure who else the ‘they’ would entail, you didn’t feel like creating an argument over no harm done.
“They followed me here to satisfy their need for gossip and you don't think that's a big deal?"
"It's not like that." The Suli girl interrupted. "We were genuinely worried about you sneaking off in the middle of the night and just wanted to make sure that you were okay." He didn't completely believe that, but as his gaze turned to meet yours again, he let out a sigh.
"Fine." He lamented, audible enough for everyone to hear before trudging back to the couch in hopes to ignore whatever was about to happen.
Almost soundlessly, the Wraith slipped into your flat, looking around carefully as she took in her surroundings. She offered you her hand, in an attempt to at least give you the decency to introduce herself.
"Please forgive us for disturbing you like this, especially in the privacy of your own home. I'm aware that this isn't the ideal first impression. I'm Inej, one of Kaz's…friends." She was careful with her words, knowing that Kaz was listening in on everything she said. But you didn't care about his grudges. You had always wanted to meet his Crows, the few friends he was keen on telling you about, so their sudden appearance was actually quite delightful.
"Don't bother worrying about this. It's fine, trust me. There’s room for all of us, and some more company doesn’t hurt." You tried to reassure her, but a knock at the door announced the arrival of the others. Upon opening the door, you were met with the four remaining Crows, who gingerly shuffled into your small living space, greeting you with muttered apologies you didn’t pay any mind to. They were quite an interesting crowd, you had to note. The blonde mountain of a man entered first, accompanied by a radiant young woman, dressed in a red dress that fit her perfectly. Your mind immediately wandered to the many times Kaz had been talking about Matthias Helvar’s broody nature and Nina Zenik’s hatred towards his haircut - that had to be them. You identified the last two people as Wylan Van Eck and Jesper Fahey. The shy redhead, who had been the most apologetic out of the group was quickly pulled away by the charming Zemeni man, who only gave you a curt nod as he pushed past you to the seating area.
Even though Kaz was already on edge about your hospitality, you still went out of your way to hurry to the kitchen and bring out a few more glasses and a decanter of water. You wouldn’t allow yourself to be seen as a negligent host, especially when it came to the friends Kaz had told you so much about him
The whole group sat scattered around your minuscule living room area, occupying every seat but the empty space next to their boss on the couch. He noticed your hesitance and slid a bit further towards the armrest, wordlessly telling you that it was okay, maybe even a bit welcome to sit next to him. Without thinking too much about it, you accepted his offer, attaining some stunned glances from his team.
"I'm so pleased to finally meet all of you." You beamed after finally settling in and introducing yourself briefly, earning a pleading look from the man sitting next to you. A look you bluntly chose to ignore. "Kaz has been droning on about his Crows since I've known him."
The man who you had rightfully assumed to be Jesper shot a teasing glance at Kaz. Any intention of a comment leaving his lips was quickly extinguished by one of Kaz's muttered threats, which you couldn’t completely make out, but that seemed to be enough of a warning to shut him up.
“I wish we could say the same,” The Heartrender spoke up, her voice soft and pleasant as she gave you a calming smile. “But Kaz failed to mention that he had other…friends.” Her tone was reluctant and you could basically feel the man in question tense up next to you. The realization dawned on you that they were probably all thinking that you were romantically involved. A thought you had nothing against, in all honesty, but you didn’t intend on admitting that in the near future.
“Not that we would have believed him had he told us earlier.” Matthias’s thick Fjerdan accent added dryly.
“But of course, we’re very happy to hear - and see - that he isn’t the secluded hermit he makes himself out to be.” The Sharpshooter snickered, satisfied with the way this situation had turned out. “Even though we are kind of hurt that you didn’t think about introducing this gorgeous lady to us. Were you just going to keep her hidden away from us until you suffer a probable untimely death? You should have brought her to the Crow Club to meet us sooner. I’m sure she wouldn’t have minded.”
“You must be really lovely company if Kaz decided to keep you all to himself.” Nina directed her attention back to you. You felt your heartbeat pick up its pace. She was definitely insinuating exactly what you thought she was. It only got worse when you recalled that she was very likely listening in on the accelerated thudding inside your chest.
“Maybe I just didn’t think that she would enjoy your company, Zenik.” He retorted smugly, causing the Grisha to frown. I wouldn’t want her to be affected by your questionable influence.” His last sentence reeked of sarcasm and you knew it, yet the girl on the other side of the room put on her best offended expression.
“That’s rich coming from a man that doesn’t shy away from ripping people’s eyes out if they wronged him. Talk about enjoyable company.” You were no stranger to the Barrel’s brutality, even though Kaz didn’t necessarily talk that much about the bloody details of his job, so this information didn’t significantly faze you.
“If she gets along with Kaz this well, she’ll get along with us just fine,” Wylan added, enticing a chuckle from his boyfriend, who had one arm slung around his shoulder. You didn’t miss the faint hue of pink on Kaz’s cheeks after the Merchling put additional emphasis on the ‘this well’ part of his statement. Was he seriously flustered?
However, his theory seemed to ring true. The rest of the evening was spent chatting about your respective lives and a lot of jokes - most of them made at Kaz’s expense. The teasing about him sneaking out to meet you seemed to be ceaseless, and it affected him more than you would have expected. Maybe that was the reason why he was so reluctant to introduce them to you.
When the night gradually came to an end, you picked up the mugs of tea and coffee that had begun to accumulate on the living room table, moving to bring them to the kitchen. Inej, who had been rather reserved for the majority of the evening, was set on helping you. It seemed like she had something to get off her chest in private, so you blindly agreed. Your heart stung a bit when you thought about the possible discussion topics she had planned to hit you with. It was no secret that she and Kaz were quite close, but he never told you about the true nature of their relationship. For all you knew they could have been in a steady relationship for years now. However, you didn’t nurture that thought for your own good.
The two of you sauntered to the kitchen, putting all the glasses and mugs into the sink to be dealt with at some point later. She carefully closed the door behind her before she let her back rest against it. She really did want to talk to you. Mentally, you were already prepared for the worst.
“Y/N, I bit my tongue the whole evening and would really hate to pry, especially after the unlucky circumstances under which we had to meet for the first time, but there is a question that I just can’t get out of my head.” Shit, this was going to hurt. “Are Kaz and you, uhm, seeing each other?” Your cheeks instantly turned bright red. Nothing ever happened between the two of you, other than yearning glances on your part and comments that could be interpreted as flirty on his, but it had gotten painfully obvious that you weren’t entirely satisfied with that.
“Kaz and me?” You sputtered, trying to act like this was the most incredulous suggestion to ever exist. “Oh, we’re just friends - well, if you can call it that - I promise there is nothing to worry about!” Inej cocked her head to the side, mustering you with a bemused expression as you were still wrestling for the right words. You had expected her to be relieved or to not believe you and end up lashing out at you. What you hadn’t expected her to do was smile.
“What should I be worried about?”
“I mean, uhm, you and Kaz-”
“Oh no, absolutely not.” She laughed, throwing her head back as she realized what you were so unsure about. “There is nothing between me and Kaz. He’s my friend, but nothing more.” These words felt as if something heavy got lifted off your shoulders. At least you were not about to be stabbed by the Wraith for having a crush on someone she could’ve been with. Now, you would just have to deal with the feelings not being mutual.
“The same goes for me and Kaz. We’re just friends.” You tried to lie to yourself.
“I think he might be on a different page.”
“What?” Her way of speaking made you realize why she and Kaz were friends in the first place. Both of them would rather die than speak in coherent sentences.
“None of us believed that Kaz was seeing someone when we became aware of him sneaking out. To us, it would have been more likely for him to have a second identity. So when we followed him tonight, we didn’t expect…this.” She gestured around the room, her hands pointing up and down your body. “He seeks you out when he’s stressed - not because he needs to get away from us, he has his office for that and knows how to keep us at an arm’s length - but because he wants to be here. The six of us have been friends for so long, and I don’t think that he ever looked at any of us the way he looked at you. It may not be obvious to you, and I wouldn’t blame you, that man is more than emotionally constipated, but whatever feelings you harbour towards him, I’m sure that they are reciprocated.” Your head felt light. Could she be right? Could Kaz Brekker ever feel even slightly the same as you did?
“I’d like to believe that, Inej, I really would. But I promise that the feelings between us are merely platonic, and it’s better that way.”
“What a shame. It would do Kaz some good to have something consistent - something good - in his life.” With that, she pushed herself off the wood behind her, giving you an encouraging wink before she returned to the others.
Unbeknownst to you, Kaz had suffered a similar fate whilst you were talking to Inej.
The five remaining friends had waited for the door to close behind you and the Wraith, their heads snapping towards Kaz when they heard it click.
“So, Kaz-”
“No matter what you were planning to say, keep it to yourself, Zenik.” He wasn’t having this at all.
“Are you two dating?” Wylan asked eagerly, prompting Kaz to groan in displeasure.
“Y/N and I are not dating. And after all the trouble you five caused me today it’s bold to even imply that.”
“Come on Kaz, we may lack your skills in deduction, but we are not blind. We all see the way you look at her.” Jesper taunted his friend playfully, wriggling his brow suggestively.
“I look at her the same way I look at all of you.”
“I sure as hell hope you don’t. I don’t want you to give me heart eyes.”
“I’m not giving her ‘heart eyes’, Jesper.” There was audible disdain in his voice as he repeated Jesper’s words to him.
“If telling yourself that helps you sleep at night.” Even Matthias joined in on the teasing. He truly was done for.
“What did I do to deserve this?” Kaz rubbed his eyes with his hand, hoping that once he had removed it from his face, his friends would stop pestering him about this.
“That list would be too long for us to go through now. Especially if you intend on keeping your love interest.” Jesper was really playing with fire at this point.
“I’ll say it one last time. She is not my love interest. We are not in a relationship. The relationship we have is just as platonic as the relationships I have with you.”
“Because slipping out in the middle of the night just to see her is very platonic?” Nina grinned sheepishly. “Just admit that you like her and ask her out, for Saint’s sake. What are you so afraid of? Rejection? Being honest with yourself? Is that the way to defeat the mighty Dirtyhands? Should we send a message to Pekka Rollins?”
“That’s enough.” Kaz’s voice turned cold. Spying on his private business was one thing, but acting as if he owed them a heartfelt confession was too much. “This is none of your concern, it never was in the first place.”
Before he could add anything more, the kitchen door creaked open with you and Inej emerging from the room behind it. There was a shared understanding to not bring that topic up for the remainder of the night. They still hoped that one of you would make a move, but they couldn’t force you to, so they just had to drop it.
After an hour or so more of talking, they chose to leave you alone again. The Crows said their goodbyes, already inviting you to get drinks at the Club during the next week. All of them wandered towards the door, except for one.
“I’ll join you later. Go back home.” Kaz ordered, provoking Nina, Jesper and Inej to exchange giddy glances. But they still left without asking any questions. Once they were finally gone, he turned to face you, visibly wound up over everything that happened today. “I apologize for their behaviour. That was completely unacceptable, and them simply showing up with-” You silenced him with a simple hand gesture and a smile.
“Kaz, it didn’t bother me. I actually appreciated having them around, even if you didn’t- They are precisely the people that I would expect you to be friends with.”
“Fine. But I hope they won’t make this a habit.”
“Are you afraid of having to share my attention, Brekker?”
“No. I just don’t see the point in seeking relief from a headache just for the headache to follow you everywhere you go.” He replied sarcastically, relishing in the dizzy feeling your laugh gave him. Maybe he should listen to his friends for once.
“Oh, hold on a second!” You paused, hurrying over to dig in the drawers of the cabinet standing in your hallway. After a bit of rummaging, you pulled out something small and shiny. He couldn’t make out the exact shape since you kept it concealed in your fist, but he suspected that it might be for him. “Open your hand.”
“Why?”
“Kaz. Just do it.” He stretched out his arm, letting his gloved hand hover a few inches away from yours. In a matter of seconds, something long and partially heavy was dropped into his palm. It was a silver key.
“What is this for?” He questioned, pulling the gift closer to him to inspect it further. This caused him to miss the flash of embarrassment that rushed over your features.
“It’s a key to my flat.” You confessed meekly, his eyes snapping to meet yours. “I had a copy made after last week. Just so you don’t have to break into my flat anymore.” His face remained calm, but his mind was running wild. You gave him a key to your flat. A key that would allow him to see you whenever he wanted without having to risk getting caught whilst trying to pick your lock. “But you don’t have to accept it if you don’t want to. I just thought it would make things easier. Even if your little headaches might stop you from visiting me that often since they know where I live now.”
“No, I, uhm, thank you. It will at least make me look less like a creep.” He chuckled. If there ever was a right moment, this would be it. “But we should probably consider a different place to meet each other once in a while. Just to keep the others off my case.”
“Oh? What are you suggesting?”
“I heard there’s a new waffle place opening up this weekend, so maybe you would like to see if it’s any good? With me, I mean.” Kaz prepared for the bone-crushing reaction that would follow his offer. You wouldn’t say yes.
“I’d love to.” Saints, he did not expect that.
“It’s a date then?” The words were supposed to be sarcastic, but his brain was just beginning to work through the implications of you agreeing to go out with him.
“It’s a date.”
When he eventually managed to force himself out of the comfort of your flat, he still held the little silver key in his hand, constantly turning it over in his palm. It would take him some time to work through what had just happened. You gave him a key and accepted his clumsy shot at asking you out. The Crows would never let him live that down.
And as if his thoughts had summoned them, they were already expectantly waiting for him at the entrance of the flat building. Jesper was the first to notice the key.
“Please don’t tell me that this is what I think it is.” The corners of his lips were pushed up as high as humanly possible.
“She gave you a key to her flat?” Nina squealed, resisting the urge to engulf him in a hug.
“Voluntarily?” Wylan added in disbelief.
“And I asked her out. Are you all happy now?”
“You did what now?”
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wronggalaxy · 7 months
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Some random queer stuff that you don't get told at initiation but are expected to know anyway because people are bad are remembering past experiences like being a baby queer(dictionary and edits at the bottom):
1) Being aromantic does not mean you're loveless/heartless but some aromantic people are loveless/heartless and that's okay too.
2) A lot of queer people are also disabled, especially neurodivergent, especially autistic, so learn about those communities as well.
3) If you don't like queer slurs then tell your friends, that's a boundary, but you have no right to tell anyone they can't say them, especially if you don't know the person. Unless you know for a fact they aren't queer, then kick them in the crotch(I don't care their genitals, this will hurt).
4) Queer may be an identity now and widely used in the community, but it is still a slur so if someone asks you to not call them queer/say queer around them then don't. Non-queers can say queer if they're talking about an identity(i.e genderqueer), but otherwise shouldn't. And if they're using it in an insulting way, kick them in the crotch.
5) Person who menstruates, menstruation/period products, person with uterus, etc. forever. All of us, or none of us. You don't get to ignore trans people just because you're cis.
Dictionary:
Aromantic: A person who feels little or no romantic attraction or only experiences romantic attraction in certain circumstances.
Loveless: An aromantic person that does not feel, understand, or connect with love in any form.
Heartless: An aromantic person that feels separated from romance and any or all forms of love.
Neurodivergent: Differing in mental or neurological function from what is considered typical or normal; not neurotypical.
Genderqueer: Denoting or relating to a person whose gender identity does not correspond to conventional binary gender distinctions.
Menstruate: Discharge blood and other material from the lining of the uterus as part of the menstrual cycle(AKA period).
Trans(gender): Of, relating to, or being a person whose gender identity differs from the sex the person had or was identified as having at birth.
Cis(gender): Whatever gender you are now is the same as what was presumed for you at birth.
Edit for confusion: Queer identity=queer community, including fictional. Tell me if anything else doesn't make sense(but don't be rude about it because disrespect doesn't lead to respect and at best I'll just delete the comment/ask)! This is all a bit vague since it was like 3 AM and I hadn't really expected more than 2 or 3 people to see and interact.
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aihoshiino · 7 months
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yo, ai is really canon autistic??
I'm like 99.999% certain, yeah! At the very least, Ai is canonically neurodivergent – specifically, she has some form of developmental disability (発達障害 hattatsu shougai) which is an umbrella term used in both English and Japanese to refer to neurodivergencies such as autism, ADHD, Tourette Syndrome and various other learning disabilities. In fact, if you google 発達障害, the first result will be a (Japanese) government website defining the term and listing examples and the first one it defines is autism.
This term is used to refer to Ai in both 45510 and in chapter 28 of the manga - I had trouble finding a raw of the original Japanese chapter but Akane can clearly be heard saying hattatsu shougai out loud at the equivalent point in episode 7 of the anime.
For transparency's sake, I don't know that Ai has ever been referred to specifically as autistic (自閉スペクトラム症 jihei spectrum shou) in either the text of the manga or in Word of God material but googling around in Japanese fan spaces had me come across a lot of folks speculating or otherwise pretty certain that she was supposed to be read as being autistic or having ADHD. In addition, hattasu shougai is a very specific term to reach for not once but twice and that combined with the way Ai is characterized has me pretty certain that this is authorial intent on the table.
Akane's big infodump and the information contained in it is pretty telling, imo:
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None of these things are unique to autism, obviously, but 'sharp hearing and sense of smell' (alternately translated as sensitive) combined Ai's struggles with matching people's names and faces (a possible indication of faceblindness) and her general struggles with empathy and intuiting other people's feelings feel very deliberate to me.
There's also things like her always dressing in loose/baggy clothing when she's picking her own outfits (possibly indicating some sensory issues) and what Akane says here about her holding her chopsticks 'a little crooked' (that's the fine motor skills issues, babey!).
This is also way more anecdotal and not a slam dunk, but there's also the fact that the Venn Diagram of diagnosed autistic people in my friend circle who like Oshi no Ko and diagnosed autistic people in my friend circle who have pointed at Ai Hoshino and gone "she is Literally Me" is a single circle. I have literally lost count of the amount of times a friend has brought up some hyperspecific aspect of their lived experience as an autistic person and pointed it out in Ai and her behaviour and it's like... at some point you just have to start calling a duck a duck, you know?
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lusty-kopfkino · 2 months
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Batman Prompt 3 - Bryce Wayne
Female Bruce Wayne AU :D
Bryce Wayne is a diamond beauty; no one would expect the girl to be 'The Batman'. Bryce didn't intend for people to think of her bat persona to be thought of as a man. She pressed down her chest since it could get in the way of her movement and vision at certain angles. She is also quite tall for a female, but around average for a male. Her figure is mostly hidden through the thick material, and her cape also contributes to hiding her figure. She added a voice modifier because statically a lower voice is more intimidating than a higher voice, her normal voice isn't as high as most girls but it is still high compared to a guy's voice. The voice modifier is just meant to make her voice lower, gruff, and unrecognizable.
Bryce does not deny or correct when people refer to her as 'Batman' because it adds more cover to her secret identity, but she does not refer to herself as a man since it sometimes can be important to know that she is a female rather than a male in certain circumstances, like for medical things.
Of course with the fact that everyone thinks Batman is a man, so does the Justice League think she is a man. Somehow she has not gotten hurt badly enough with the Justice League that she would need to be given medical attention at the satellite, she has gotten patched up there but she did it herself. None of the members with powers know she is a she because her uniform blocks that being detected with enhanced senses.
The Justice League finds out Batman is a girl.
Batman either gets injured so her gender is revealed or it is casually mentioned by her in some way, like maybe all the members are hanging out together and the girls are talking together about girl things-
I just want to say Batman always, when she isn't busy goes to the member hangouts so she can 'bond with her team' as Alfred said, so she usually stays quiet, but when she is talked to she will respond, and when she thinks she can add something to the conversation she will speak up. Though it took some getting used to for most of the members they have learned that when Batman isn't talking business she isn't too good a talking, so they accept her kind of awkward way of speaking to people. They don't even notice the awkwardness anymore.
-Batman casually adds her own experience as a girl and then all the members are like What?' (some members are already getting an idea) Batman is like 'What? You didn't know? I'm a girl.' and then everyone freaks or something.
*When I am referring to the Justice League I mean Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Flash, Green Lantern, Martian Manhunter, Aquaman, Green Arrow, and Black Canary but you can add more if you want.
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shshshquietnow · 9 months
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Whumpees with powers controlled by their emotions. Maybe other than that they have controll, but when they feel a certain way their powers will NOT be tamed.
Whumpees that turn invisible on instinct when scared. Whumpers that find this endlessly amusing, using man handling and a lot of physical touch because they've "got to make up for the visual unappeal."
Shapeshifting whumpees can't control their forms when angry. Lashing out at whumpers as a large bear or wolf before being restrained, brought to a cage sense "They're so insistent on acting like an animal."
Whumpees with electric powers that get turned up to ten while in pain. Everything whumper does gives them an electric shock, making any torture or punishment very frustrating for the whumper. Even if whumpee can't control it, can't do it on purpose, even if they apologize a thousand times, they are still spurned, told that "they should know better than to try THAT little stunt again."
Empath whumpees that can't help but project their strong emotions. Whumpers having to step out of the room while torturing them, or whumpers that get the smug satisfaction of feeling a wave of relief as they walk back into the house to their whumpee. Of course no good things will happen when the whumper realizes what's going on, but that won't be for a while. Caretakers rattled by anxiety and fear so overwhelming they don't know what to do, holding whumpee too close or even running, scared they're going to hurt them all over again. But also caretakers crying tears of joy when they realize why they felt so good all day: they finally made whumpee feel safe.
Whumpees that grow armor when they feel threatened, whether that be crystals growing from their skin, or thorns or whatever else. On top of the pain of whatever whumper is about to do to them they have the pain of new material growing and pricking out of their skin. Whumpers that sigh, over compensating for the armor with the pain they cause because "You're over reacting, it's not going to be THAT bad."
Whumpees that have power over plants, flowers blooming when they feel safe and warm, withering when they're depressed or lonely. Whumper's garden never grew well, not until they broke whumpee in. And after rescue caretakers garden was rotted down to the soil, but as time went on their garden flourished, more beautiful than whumper's garden could ever be.
Whumpees that subconsciously control other people's powers, making them more or less powerful depending on how much whumpee trusted them. Whumper getting annoyed beyond belief after their powers STILL barely function, even after weeks of trying to manipulate whumpee to staying. Caretaker scared for whumpees life after a rescue, none of their healing powers working on whumpee because they don't trust that this rescue isn't another of whumper's tricks.
Whumpees that can only charm abd mind control when they're most desperate. Screaming first whumper to stop until finally right before the worst punishment they do, whumpers getting PISSED, continuing on once the enchantment wears off with new found rage because "you don't get to control me, I control you."
Whumpees with "Spider senses", knowing when whumper is approaching, feeling the tingle right before every new method of torture is used. Their senses going HAYWIRE when whumper is in the room, overwhelmed.
Whumpees letting out powerful bursts of kinetic energy when it gets too much, sending anything near them flying several feet away from them. Frustrating for whumper, sure, but even MORE dangerous for the caretaker trying to save the poor confused bomb waiting to go off.
Just yes <3
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iceman-kazansky · 1 year
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Coffee can't Keep you Awake Forever
RK800 Connor x F! Reader
Summary: You need some sleep, and Connor thinks he can provide just that.
A/n: Yes, I know I don't even have Detroit:become human listed under the fandoms I write for BUT this idea has been plauging my mind for DAYS.
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˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙
"Would You like anything to drink?" Hanks voice sounds from the kitchen, "I've got booze."
Through your haze, you find your voice to respond, "No thank you, But thanks for the offer."
Hank comes back into the living room and sits in a lone arm-chair with his bottle. "Suit yourself."
You knew you couldn't handle any alcohol right now. Your brain was nearly haywire with exhaustion and alcohol would not do it justice.
A normal person would say "then sleep if you are tired." If only it were that easy. While you begged for sleep in all waking parts of the world, your brain had other plans. It refused to let you stop working for more than a few hours.
Truthfully, the only thing keeping you awake was a coffee every 2 hours and the pile of work that just kept adding to your mental shelves. That was to blame with how hectic the case had gotten recently. People turning up murdered by their rogue androids left and right had you drowning in paperwork.
So, yes, a break would be wonderful.
Getting up for another coffee, you trudged into the kitchen, feet heavy and limbs slow.
The coffee machine rumbled to life as you put your cup under the dispenser, a blue screen illuminating your face in the dim lighting of the room, showcasing an excessive amount of options to customize your drink.
Selecting the options that seemed most appealing to your tired eyes, the coffee machine got to work, pouring the contents of your liquid into the white mug you'd placed under it.
"You can't function on coffee forever. The human body needs sleep."
You jumped at the sound of a voice that had materialized from nearly thin air, "Jesus Christ! Connor! Don't do that!"
"I'm sorry if I alarmed you." He apologizes.
Waving a hand at the android you respond, "No, no. You're fine. I didn't hear you. That's all"
"I have noticed signs of sleep deprivation, recently. Bags beneath the eyes, Excessive yawning, little moments where you–"
You cut him off, "I'm not sleep deprived. I'm fine. Just stressed that's all."
Connor is quiet, his eyes staring at your back when you turn back to your newly delivered coffee. He contemplates, his programming running diagnostics upon diagnostics on the situation. Does he question if you are okay? Does he ask what's stressing you? Or does he just leave it alone?
He decides with the option that feels most right to him, "What is on your mind, lieutenant?"
You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. Something of a stress reliever. "The cases." Pausing, you continue, "I'm puzzled. Can't think of any logical reasons as to why this is happening."
While there are certainly hypothesis circulating within your posse of 3, none make proper sense. Androids were said to be mindless machines that didn't have the ability to decide for themselves, rather for the greater good of the whole. Yet, why were they each doing exactly what they were programmed not to do?
None of it made sense.
"Perhaps it would start making sense if you allowed yourself to get some sleep." He offered.
"I can't. That's the problem." Sipping the coffee in your hands to hopefully deter the fatigue overpowering you, screaming at your muscles and brain to stop working.
"I would like to help but I'm not certain if my services will be any use. I recommend staying off the caffeine for the time being. It will help coax your body into sleep sooner or later."
And with that, Connor was gone from the kitchen, leaving you alone with your drink.
With an angered and exasperated sigh, you dumped the remaining coffee in your mug down Hank's sink.
Sitting on the couch next to Connor, you began to regret not drinking that coffee. Your mind was in shambles, hundreds of things that could explain your cases involving deviants were swirling like fog, clouding your senses. Yet, you felt as if you were on the verge of discovering something big. Oh how you should have drank thar coffee! It was getting impossible to hold your eyes open any longer, each minute that ticked by adding to your exhaustion.
Hank stood up abruptly, still in his drunken stupor, and stumbled into his room, closing the door loudly behind him. That left you and Connor, side by side, on the couch with some movie going on in the background.
Connor had been focused (as much as an android could) on the movie for the duration of the time you'd come back. He wasn't interested in the show going on infront of his eyes, as an android he didn't process any particular attachment to the characters shown on TV nor feel any explicit interest in the plot point the two were reaching. It simply wasn't in his program to do so.
He could sense a pressure on his shoulder, and he cast a glance down to your sleeping form.
There, passed out from fatigue, with your head delicately placed upon Connor's shoulder, you fell asleep.
The android didn't mind. As long as you got the rest you deserved. As much as he knew you didn't want to hear it, nor talk about such a subject, he could see the weariness you carried over the past few days. Something in his programming told him it had something to do with the stress induced by the most recent homicide.
But yet, deep, buried beneath all his programming, he felt something arise within him. It made his LED turn yellow in deep thought.
But those were things he would have to figure out later, as he didn't plan on asking or moving from this position unless you did first. He wouldn't dare deprive you of your much needed sleep. Besides, you looked…
dare Connor say, cute.
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blindmagdalena · 1 year
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So there was a bts pic of Homie’s bedroom and his walls were covered with historical photos of like George Washington and stuff. I have this hc that once his s/o realizes this, she gives him a photo of the two of them together in a frame and he is so overjoyed and touched by this, he kinda doesn’t know what to do. How do you think that scene would play out? I totally realize this is kind of a request but I just love your writing so and think you could do it such sweet justice 😊
"What is it?" Homelander asks, staring down at the gift bag in his hands. It's absolutely bursting with bits of festive tissue paper, but no glitter. You learned a while ago that he despises glitter for the way it sticks to him. His sense of touch is apparently as keen as his every other sense, making glitter akin to devil dust on his skin. You smile demurely at him. "It's a present."
"It's not my birthday," he says, looking up at you with furrowed brows. You expected him to make a joke, or scoff at your duh-worthy answer, but he looks genuinely bewildered. "It's not our anniversary." "No, I know," you say, your tone gentler now. "But, uhm... Well, go ahead and open it. I'll explain after."
After giving you a perplexed once over, Homelander looks back down at the bag and begins pulling the tissue loose. You hold out your hand to take it, leaving him free to carefully lift the picture frame from the bag. He stares at it for what feels like an eternity, blinking several times. Suddenly, you're starting to feel nervous. Does he not like pictures of himself? Maybe it wasn't for lack of consideration that he didn't have any personal photos in his own home. Maybe he— Homelander cuts your internal spiral short with a sudden laugh. It's a breathless noise, and as he continues to blink, you realize that his eyes are glassy. "Hey," you whisper, leaning in, putting your hand on his forearm. "Are you okay?" "Look at that," he says, gently tapping the back of his fingers off of the frame. It's not the most flattering or artistic picture, just a candid photo of the two of you from a private Vought event, leaning against one another, smiles bright in the way only genuine joy can be. "It's so fuckin'... Normal. No politician, no goddamn ribbon cutting, no promotional material. We're not shaking hands," he says, exhaling another laugh. "Just you and me." "Just you and me," you echo quietly, rubbing his arm. Homelander's entire life has been commodified so thoroughly, and it strikes you raw to realize this is perhaps the first photo he's been given that wasn't for an autograph. "You have so many pictures, but none of yourself, so I thought... You could use something more personal." You watch the way his thumb strokes along the outside of the frame. He sniffs lightly, clearing his throat. You wait patiently while he processes, and after a few moments, he carefully pops the stand out of the back of the frame, and sets it upright on the side table, staring at it. "You like it?" You ask, tentatively hopeful, though you're fairly certain these are good tears. The next thing you know, Homelander's hands are on either side of your face, drawing you in swiftly for a deep kiss, wringing a small noise of surprise from you. That melts quickly into delight as you relax against him, cupping his face in return and kissing him back. He kisses you nearly as long as he'd stared at the picture for. Even once the kiss breaks, he doesn't let you get anywhere. He presses his forehead to yours, eyes soft, still misty. You stroke his cheeks with your thumbs, rubbing your nose against his a little. It makes him smile, like it always does. "I love you," you say quietly, pressing another small kiss to his lips. Homelander sighs, his breath minty and warm on your lips. "I love you so much." You're definitely going to have to get him some more pictures.
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spookiesmausoleum · 6 months
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❛ 𝐀𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐏𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨 ❜ 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬
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Here's some quotes from "American Psycho" with a few content warnings just due to the subject matter of the movie even if I did try to avoid certain quotes: Drugs , Murder , Psychosis , Cursing , Violence
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"Most importantly, we have to promote general social concern and less materialism in young people."
"I'm into, uh, well, murders and executions, mostly."
"Well, most guys I know who are in Mergers and Acquisitions really don't like it."
"There is an idea of a [name]; some kind of abstraction. But there is no real me: only an entity, something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable... I simply am not there."
"My pain is constant and sharp, and I do not hope for a better world for anyone. In fact, I want my pain to be inflicted on others."
"I want no one to escape. But even after admitting this, there is no catharsis; my punishment continues to elude me, and I gain no deeper knowledge of myself."
"Not if you want to keep your spleen."
"My need to engage in homicidal behavior on a massive scale cannot be corrected but, uh, I have no other way to fulfill my needs."
"I don't think we should see each other any more."
"But your friends are my friends and my friends are your friends. I really don't think it would work."
"I know that your friends are my friends and, uh... I've thought about that. You can have 'em."
"Did you know that Whitney Houston's debut LP, called simply Whitney Houston had 4 number one singles on it?"
"You actually listen to Whitney Houston? You own a Whitney Houston CD? More than one?"
"You have a really nice place here, [name]. How much did you pay for it?"
"Well, actually, that's none of your business, [name]. But I can assure you, it certainly wasn't cheap."
"Let's see [name]'s card."
"Look at that subtle off-white coloring. The tasteful thickness of it. Oh, my God. It even has a watermark."
"Is something wrong, [name]? You're sweating."
"It's a fucking milligram of sweetener. I want to get high off this, not sprinkle it on my fucking oatmeal."
"Will you keep it down? I'm trying to do drugs!"
"[Name] has mistaken me for this dickhead [other name]."
"It's impossible in this world we live in to empathize with others, we can always empathize with ourselves."
"When I get to [name]'s place, I use the keys I took from his pocket. There is a moment of sheer panic when I realize that [name]'s apartment overlooks the park and is obviously more expensive than mine."
"I have all the characteristics of a human being: blood, flesh, skin, hair; but not a single, clear, identifiable emotion, except for greed and disgust."
"Something horrible is happening inside of me and I don't know why."
"My nightly bloodlust has overflown into my days. I feel lethal, on the verge of frenzy."
"I think my mask of sanity is about to slip."
"Then maybe we shouldn't go out to dinner. I wouldn't want you to lose your willpower."
"That's okay. I'm not very good at controlling it anyway."
"No—I’m in touch with humanity. [name], I’m sorry, I just uh—you’re not terribly important to me."
"What’s that?"
"Duct tape. I need it for—taping something."
"Pumpkin, you’re dating the biggest dickweed in New York. Pumpkin, you’re dating a tumbling, tumbling dickweed."
"I think if you stay, something bad will happen. I think I might hurt you. You don’t want to get hurt, do you?"
"I want to stab you to death, and then play around with your blood."
"If you don’t shut your fucking mouth, I will kill you."
"Now, [name], listen. Listen very, very carefully—I killed [name], and I liked it."
"Make someone happy. Have you ever wanted to?"
"I guess you could say I just want to have a meaningful relationship with someone special."
"I know my behavior can be—erratic sometimes."
"You hate that job anyway. I don’t see why you just don’t quit."
"Because I want to fit in."
"I’m leaving. I’ve assessed the situation, and I’m going."
"Hey, I’m a child of divorce, gimme a break!"
"Oh, that? Just mulling over business problems, examining opportunities, exchanging rumors, spreading gossip."
"Your father practically owns the company. You can do anything you like, silly."
"God—I guess I was probably returning videotapes."
"I need to return some videotapes."
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kerubimcrepin · 3 months
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Episode 20 - My Friend Bashi (Part 1)
We had reached the milestone of 20 episodes, and I want to sincerely thank the readers for sticking with me so far. :)
I also have a small announcement: after finishing liveblogging this episode, I will take a very small break from the show to do some reading of articles and comics instead.
It's starting to feel awkward - constantly referencing some canon materials without reviewing them on this blog proper, y'know? I originally planned to do this all at once, before the movie, but I think it'll be more fun to do it in multiple reading breaks, during the show.
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So many kids in this city, and Joris is friends with none of them. Except for Tatak.
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All analysis and plot leaves my body as I think about how much Kerubim cares about Joris.
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He's really not perfect, but no matter how much I joke about his failures, he really does care and try his best.
He's too nice for me to actually make fun of in any serious manner.
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It's very nice to see the more down-low, bittersweet moments of parenting and childhood portrayed. It's also nice that it's just between the two of them, without Simone.
I love her, but it's very cute to see just Joris and Kerubim, and how they act when they're alone together.
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I think that it's interesting, that even at 7yo, Joris is already at the... "this one social interaction was a disaster, and it's over, just irredeemably over"-level overthinking about relationships.
Perhaps it's knowing that for Kerubim it, often times, was like that. Kerubim did inspire very many people to either hate him with passion, or leave him.
Perhaps it's the fact that, besides Kerubim, Kerubim's friends, and Simone, he doesn't have a family; and besides Tatak, he doesn't seem to have any friends: and that makes him struggle with the idea of losing relationships.
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Keke I will be real, I think Tatak is his only friend in general.
...Man. I am making myself sad by writing these things.
I don't think Joris ever had good social skills in his life. Just issues after issues.
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As I've said in the previous posts, both Keke and Joris have an issue with needing to be liked always all the time, and the way it makes them do things to seem Cool and Awesome. Even if Joris has this issue in a very introverted way.
It might just be normal kids stuff, but it does add a certain flair to the things we see him do as an adult, if one accepts the idea he's always been like this.
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Kerubim's way of connecting to others is to draw from his own experiences, and compare them. It's a more... mature way of cheering up people, than just saying "it gets easier!" like he used to.
For all his faults, Kerubim has grown emotionally from his youth. But it can be a thin line between making everything about yourself, and trying to say that it gets better from experience.
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Even so, Joris cares a lot about his experiences and life (cough cough. the Lore), so it works for them, both as a way to distract him and to cheer him up. Kerubim knows this, it's his go-to technique.
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Anyway.
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I think Kerubim either vastly overestimates the depth of what happened here (I highly doubt Ecaflip is giving him tasks because he's "the best"), or he is lying to Joris, because "I spent my whole childhood afraid that my father, who is a living god, would eat me Zeus-style, because of shit like cleaning the toilets badly or not delivering the fish on time." isn't a nice story.
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This is exactly what I'm talking about.
A small aside: according to The Wheel Of Destiny #8 Kerubim Crepin (which will be one of the things I liveblog during the Reading Break), Bashi and Kerubim became friends before the events of episode 3, Strich Hunt.
It makes a lot of sense, because before the events of that episode, Ecaflip had... a very rough way of treating and speaking to Kerubim. Even if he had a soft spot for him, enough to save him (and then manipulate him) during said Wheel of Destiny article, I think Kerubim only truly cemented himself as Ecaflip's most favourite in the Strich Hunt episode.
Also, considering the fact that in Wheel of Destiny, little Bashi reports to knowing and strongly disliking Atcham, it's safe to say that in this episode we have a confirmed instance of Atcham being canonically present and simply not mentioned.
...keke sure is the guy who says "im the last living crepin. laugh" while having a brother. insane.
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I yet again want to gush about the portrayal of relationships in this show.
I think all of us can relate to meeting someone, and not thinking much, — not yet knowing that they will turn out to be one of the coolest people you've ever met.
Anyway, tangent incoming.
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One thing that's interesting to me, is that Kerubim is never depicted as having friends in the temple. From what we see, he spends most of the time alone, or with Ecaflip.
The reasons may be:
He is Ecaflip's favorite. He had important tasks from the moment he joined the temple. It alienated people.
He was Atcham's brother. Kids are judgemental, and Atcham is a perfect bullying target. Chances are, they didn't like him due to the association.
He came in very mentally ill and unsociable, due to, y'know, being orphaned, and never managed to make friends because the impression that he's "the sad mentally ill kid" stayed.
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No wonder that he got anxious around three people, and then immediately trusted them when they were nice to him.
He probably hadn't had anyone be nice to him in ages. Or, like, acknowledge him too much, at the very least.
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I won't elaborate on how I think Atcham was treated in the temple lest I fucking scare you, (Something-something, literally catboy Rule of Rose,) but I will say that, just like Atcham is still violently mentally ill due to whatever happened to him, Kerubim's experiences with loneliness and alienation as a child most likely fueled his dishonesty and attention-seeking behaviours as an adult.
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So I understand why, even though Bashi kinda sucks, Kerubim is so broken up about losing him. There's a lot more tragedy to this than one can first see.
It was a very important moment for Kerubim to finally have a person in his life that wasn't his father (who constantly threatened to fucking eat him), one of the kids who either disliked him or were too intimidated to talk to him, one of the random monks, or his severely mentally ill brother (who fucking hated him.)
He was his first friend.
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Can you tell us more about who England refers too as mother? And did you divide the UK siblings roughly into two pairs because of Roman Britain? I'm sorry you just keep dropping hints and no one else has asked 💌
Oh lord, okay. So disclaimer, working with prehistory is a fucking crap shoot. Archaeology has a lot of interpretations and not as many facts as historians and archivists like me, especially who studied modern history, would like. And even when history does come to the islands in the form of the Roman writers, that is also largely questionable because propaganda is as old as human communication. So I try to work with what we do know, but before a certain point, I'm basically writing fantasy. But also, no one has to work with history ever in a fucking stupid anime fandom. I'm just a diagnosed anxious headcase who copes with the uncertainty of existence by researching the fuck out of every choice I've ever made sober, including this shitshow of a blog and predecessors. Most of my focus is on much later history, so I'm taking a minimalist approach here and making as little work for myself as possible while at least taking some guidance from history to fit the themes I like so none of this is likely going to be the best take, tbh. That said, onwards into the breach, I fucken guess.
Can you tell us more about who England refers to as mother?
Yes. So most of the time, the conglomerate characters of "Germania" or the fanon "Native America," where dozens and hundreds and thousands of politically interlocked or entirely separate cultures are smushed into one character, make zero sense to me. In the case of Native America, it's downright racist, and in the case of Germania it's basically sucking Tacitus off 2,000 years after the fact. But Brittania could make sense. Being an island separated from mainland Europe made for some attractive socio-political and cultural unity hinted at in writing after the Roman invasion and before the fact in the archaeological record. But how long before the Romans? Where do I begin with Brittania, eh? The Red Lady of Paviland? The Creswell Crags? The Starr Mesolithic Site? Neolithic Chambered Tomb-Shrines? Stonehenge? The Iron Age Hillforts? Ah! There we go, the Celtic arrival in Britain. i.e. the option that makes me do the least work to get the job done. The Celts arrive in Britain about 1,300-800 BCE and in Ireland about 800-500 BCE depending on who you read. There is one tribe among the Celtic that had strong links to Britain and Ireland. The Brigantes were stuck in the border region between what is today Scotland and England, with at least some sort of material connections in Wales and Ireland. So my shortcut to a decent storyline that had some basis in fact, was to have her people interpret her as their patron goddess of Brigantia and link her tightly to Celtic paganism and weakened by the invasions of Rome but also the widespread adoption of Christianity in the 5th century. She was a proud woman who enjoyed the worship she once knew and who loved her children fiercely. She was every bit a Cartimandua or Boudicca. And when Christ and his nails bled her to death, her sons eventually dug her a barrow at the foot of an iron age hillfort, and her only daughter braided her hair and placed her golden jewelry on her one last time and their world was never the same.
And did you divide the UK siblings roughly into two pairs because of Roman Britain?
Yes and no. The Romans did take and hold England and Wales but Wales was much harder to hold onto. Under the Romans, life didn't change there or in Scotland nearly as much as in England. My main reason for splitting them into Brighid and Alasdair and Rhys and Arthur beyond much more modern politics is linguistic. Scottish Gaelic is much more related to Irish than it is to Welsh. And the Welsh word Cymru once referred to both the Welsh and Cumbrians. Now Cumbrian is a fascinating little language that is now dead, but it left a fantastic legacy in its counting system. @oumaheroes headcanons it as being something he uses to refer to his weans, and I, sobbing, concur wholeheartedly. I also have made random references to a shitfaced Arthur babbling in Cumbrian. So with that being a Celtic language in what is today England, et voila, two pairs.
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juminies · 9 months
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talk to him
post secret ending. jumin doesn't mourn (except he does).
angst, referenced character death, implied alcoholism, secret ending spoilers
AN: I originally had this idea a couple of months ago with the intention of it being a letter from Jumin, accompanied by art in a sort of comic style. I have come to realise it's somewhat unrealistic that I'll ever actually finish that hahaha. I still didn't want the idea to go unseen forever, though, so on a whim I fleshed it out for it to make sense as a fic :-)
☁︎
“You’re not normal,” Zen mumbles, clearly irritated that he isn’t getting through. Jumin has been listening but has little to say – the alcohol has his brain too clouded and he’s too focused on the fact that Zen’s glare feels as though it could kill him if he’s not careful. Jumin hates it; hates that he’s being interrogated in his own home; hates the way he feels trapped; hates the familiarity of being seen as abnormal.
He tries to suppress the brewing unsettling feeling that some sort of Medusa is standing in front of him. The RFA does not need to lose another member in a matter of months, and while Jumin thinks himself more logical than to believe that Zen could possibly petrify him, there’s something in the back of his mind that whispers the chance of danger.
“I still don’t understand why you’re here,” Jumin says, if not just to break up his own thoughts. Zen continues to hover near the doorway of the penthouse. He hasn’t moved since he arrived eight minutes and twenty-four seconds ago, and has essentially repeated himself five times, though it still isn’t making sense.
“I told you. I– Saeyoung and Yoosung are worried about you.”
“Then why aren’t Saeyoung or Yoosung here rather than you?”
Zen huffs and clenches his fists. “Stop being so aggravating and just– Everyone is worried!”
“Then tell them not to be. My emotions are none of your concern, and to be frank I’d much rather remain a pillar for you all in situations like this.” He swirls the amber liquid in the glass he’s holding. “I am used to enduring. I have been enduring for months already and I will continue to endure. Now, if we have nothing else to discuss and you aren’t in need of my assistance, feel free to leave.”
Jumin feels Zen’s eyes leave him, finally, and he uses the opportunity to look up. He takes a victory sip of whiskey when he finds that Zen’s hair has not turned into snakes.
There’s a long, haunting silence. Zen wanders a few steps across the room to a bookcase and picks up a photograph lying face down on a shelf. It had been placed face down on purpose, but the actor takes the opportunity to stand it back up.
A much younger, happier Jihyun stares at Jumin from within the frame. His once loving gaze now feels even sharper than Zen’s.
“Maybe you should try talking to him,” Zen finally suggests. He spares a glance to the almost empty glass of liquor as he notices Jumin put it down on the side table. “Or writing, or something other than sitting around drinking your feelings away like an idiot.”
“To whom, exactly?” Jumin asks, though he knows, and he can already feel Zen's patience withering away.
“V.”
Jumin subconsciously digs his nails into where they rest on his thigh, hard enough that it’s certain to leave little half-moons in his flesh – even through the thick material of his trousers.
“I said what I needed to at his funeral.”
As if he hadn’t tried calling V’s phone tens of times since he passed, hoping for one more chance. He had only gotten to hear his voice through the answerphone message twice before the battery died along with its owner.
“Listen, trustf–” Zen starts, a little too angry. He takes a deep breath. “We all know you’re not coping as well as you’re pretending to. He was your best friend! You’re allowed to be upset. You should be, even!”
“Again, it’s none of your concern.”
Zen lets out a sigh, or a grumble. Jumin can’t tell.
“Whatever. I’ll get going.”
Jumin hums, displeased, and looks at the clock as the younger man turns to exit. Eleven minutes and eight seconds of Jumin’s time, wasted.
Then Zen pauses, turning back to where the director is seated, one leg crossed over the other, nails still pressed harshly into dark grey wool. Jumin doesn’t look away, even for the still lingering fear of being turned to stone. He continues to count the seconds that build up.
“Just think about it.”
Jumin has barely slept in days. Sometimes the wine – whiskey on worse nights – puts him to sleep, but tonight he’s angry. Too angry to sleep, though he won’t admit it to anyone but himself. The others might assume things; place wild bets on whether or not he cares, but they don’t know unless he tells them. And he won’t.
It’s almost 4am when he finally moves from his position on the couch. Surely he may as well try to get some sleep. An hour and a half is better than none.
As he stands and turns toward the direction of the master bedroom however, the picture Zen had repositioned on the shelf hours before catches his eye. And he does not go to bed. He places the frame face down again and makes his way to the old desk in his barely-used home office.
He sits with nothing but the word Jihyun written in front of him for twenty minutes, unable to form words on the page, then tries to give up. He leaves the room, the light flicking off behind him bathing him in darkness once again.
He walks back past the bookcase. Backtracks; stands the photo up again. He loiters in front of it for a few seconds, unable to pull himself away until he suddenly feels compelled to apologise (though for what he's not sure).
He goes back into the office. He doesn’t bother switching the light back on, instead opting for a dingy reading lamp he’s had since he moved in. He’s half surprised to find the bulb still works.
His pen scratches as he begins to write, on the verge of running out of ink.
Jihyun.
When we were young, and you asked me, “Which one of us do you think will marry first?” I was certain it would be you. It just made sense, did it not? You were always warmer than I was. You were more approachable. For better or for worse, you were more willing to give up everything for someone you loved. So when you told me that you were to marry Rika, my congratulations were promptly followed by an “I told you so.” I thought it was entertaining that you weren’t sure what I was referring to, but my memory always was better than yours, wasn’t it? You couldn't even recall once I told you the story; explained what you had asked while you were feeling somewhat existential about our futures one evening shortly before I left the country for college.
Of course, when Rika left us I was heartbroken – for you more so than I. Congratulations had quickly become condolences. Did I ever tell you, though, that I always thought you handled her death extraordinarily, despite the distance it put between us? Because I did. At the time, I did. It was only as she stood silently across from me in the churchyard three months ago that I came to understand why you seemed to take it so well.
When we were young and you asked me, “Which one of us do you think will marry first?” I was certain it would be you. But considering it now, you always were so stubborn. Too self-sacrificing.
I can’t help but feel a little regretful for telling you that I will never forgive you for leaving on your own, though it’s true. Don’t you know you had so much ahead of you? So much you could still have ahead of you? Had you just talked to me; had I just been more persistent. I think you’ve left me with more questions than I started with.
I also have one more answer, however. It seems it will be me.
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ominous-auburn-orbs · 4 months
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TADC Gotham Rogues AU
I know, a digital circus au, completely unheard of and original, but I was dressing the cast up as batman villains and liked the designs so much I've decided to make it its own au. This is not something that happened of my own free will, mind you. The demons forced my hand.
I don't have everyone so far, as I still haven't assigned villains to Kinger and Zooble, and I haven't drawn Jax as the Creeper yet, so if any of you have ideas on what to do with those two it would be highly appreciated.
Anyway, here's the designs and some paragraphs on the current stories I have for them.
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First up is Gangle as Two Face! Her design is probably my favourite so far.
Once a respected lawyer, Gangle is a dangerous criminal with an obsession with pairs and an inability to make decisions without her beloved coin. Before that, she was a mayoral candidate and looking to properly expose the Falcone crime family. Rather miraculously, a man who used to work with the Falcones was willing to make a full confession, first to her and then in court. When the court date rolled around, however, he denied ever working with the Falcones at all, making Gangle look a fool.
Her temper was something she had always tried to keep from the press, knowing what it would do to her reputation. It came in the form of her second mask, which while seeming happy, expressed a severe desire for revenge and a sadistic joy. This mask was getting closer to showing the more she pressed the man to fully confess. Suddenly, he cried to the security guards to attack, causing them to jump her and break her mask into dust and tear apart her ribbons.
Unbeknownst to the people in the court, the Falcones had managed to replace the court's guards with their own to attack and hopefully kill Gangle. While they were arrested and Gangle survived, her mask could not be put back together. She never recovered physically nor mentally, her duelling personalities now having to occupy the same body at the same time. She did everything right, and still suffered. Law held no justice. Justice held no law. Someone's fate may as well be left to the simple toss of a coin.
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Caine plays the role of the Riddler, although a bit less narcissistic than the original. He's also not an AI here, as this au is set in the 'real world', but more in a 'Who Framed Roger Rabbit' sense. (Humans and cartoony creatures occupying the same world)
Caine did his best to thrive in whatever workplace he could, thinking his abnormally high IQ would surely make life a breeze for him. However, his lack of money made things very difficult for him. He wasn't close with any higher-ups, his constant insistence on changing and improving ideas was found annoying, and his high intelligence was far less appreciated by his co-workers than he thought it would be.
Left alone with his genius and desire for power and respect, he turned to making gadgets of his own, selling them to gain money for more materials to make more overly complicated machines. Alas, he was plagued by his desire to show off and prove himself, so his contraptions became more violent as he turned to selling to the many crime leagues of Gotham. The public barely ever understood his perfectly mind-bending creations, anyway.
Caine was lonely, though, in his brilliance, so he decided to set up what seemed like a harmless intelligence test online, recruiting the top five performers to meet him for one final test. He put them through puzzle after puzzle, watching how they worked under stress and timers, and how they managed with his adventures. To his disappointment, none survived.
Ready to accept being alone at the top, and relatively unaffected by the deaths considering how little of a purpose those victims ended up serving, he was unexpectedly found and apprehended by police. A certain mob boss he had sold some of his best torture devices to had ratted him out in an attempt to lessen his own sentence.
Thrown in Arkham Asylum, Caine realised that this was the path he had to take. Society wasn't ready for his genius. They simply couldn't fathom using it for good, if at all. Perhaps if he showed just how dangerous it could be, his intelligence would finally be given the respect it deserved.
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Next, there's Ragatha as the Ventriloquist. I decided to use Terrible!Ragatha as a replacement for Scarface, who was originally created by @obamerzslop ! I highly recommend checking out his au's, they're what indirectly convinced me to make this. She admittedly doesn't really have T!Ragatha's personality, but she does keep the design.
Ragatha is a meek and relatively gentle woman, her talent for altering and throwing her voice giving her some very good job opportunities in entertainment. Unfortunately, she was always haunted by a voice in the back of her mind. It wanted power. It wanted bloodshed. It was a part of her, yet the two couldn't be more different.
Unable to bare it any longer, Ragatha stole some materials from the studio she worked in and built her own puppet, made from wood and rags. When she was building it, she finally relented to her separate personality and let it control her. It was going to be its body, so it deserved a say in it.
Looking down at the puppet, Ragatha's mind felt less crowded. She put it on her hand, and it immediately started speaking. The puppet now held her separate personality, speaking in its voice. Ragatha thought that maybe now it would be less bloodthirsty, the body being a gift of sorts that would appease it. If anything, the personality got worse.
Going by the name of Dollface, the puppet quickly took control of Ragatha's life. She was a servant to her now. That was when she was forced into a life of crime, serving the now mafia boss, Dollface, and her greedy pursuit of power. Many have made the mistake of claiming the two are the same. That Dollface is a mere puppet that Ragatha could simply remove. None make that mistake twice, as they typically don't live long enough to do so.
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Finally, it's Pomni as the Great White Shark. These villains keep getting progressively more obscure- Whilst she is far more threatening, this Pomni does still obey cartoon logics and physics, much to her displeasure. A part of that is her teeth becoming sharp when stressed/angry, which is why they're always like that now.
Pomni started out as a low-level criminal, pleading insanity at her court case to avoid being sent to prison. Miraculously, it was allowed, although now she thinks it was less because they believed her insane, but more because they thought it would be a good show of the consequences for such lies.
Rather naively, Pomni assumed the insanity of the inmates at Arkham Asylum would make them easy to manipulate, ready to be lead by someone with their head on straight yet an equal desire for chaos and power. She was too confident that she would get respect as 'the Great White Shark', or even be feared. She couldn't have been more wrong.
The prisoners in Arkham tormented her, never letting her forget that she had chosen this hell that they were locked in. It was absurd to have a sane person amongst Gotham's criminally insane, anyway, and they just couldn't stand for that.
As much as she begged, Pomni was given no mercy from the authorities, being written off as just as insane as she had claimed to be in court that day. Over the course of her stay, she began to break more and more, needing a way out before she lost herself completely.
One day, some prisoners organised an escape. Pomni scrambled to leave with them, but was quickly pushed aside. Since they knew how weak she was, she was ignored by the guards, but not by the inmates. In order to completely get her out of the way, she was thrown in the large freezer where most of Mr Freeze's items and weapons were kept. Unfortunately, the weapons were removed first, leaving her with no way out.
Frostbite began to set in. Her nose froze and fell off. She lost a finger on each hand as well as parts of her lips. Her skin turned blue. Eventually, when Mr Freeze was recaptured, one of the police officers went to put his weapons away. That was when they found her.
Pomni had finally snapped. Rather than thank the officer like she once might have done, she pushed through her frozen blood and knocked him down, tearing apart his flesh with her sharpened teeth. She couldn't do much because of her state at the time, but it did mean she was finally viewed as a threat. Her title as the Great White Shark was finally being used. She had lost her mind, but had become far more formidable than she was before. The next time they escaped, she fought her way through. While she is now relatively business-oriented, that violent anger is always there, waiting for the water to be tainted with blood.
That's all I've got for now, which was really long whoops-
I'm pretty proud of this, and hopefully I never make another because good god. This is a lot.
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comicallybored · 3 months
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Everytime I visit any historical ruins (there are plenty for someone living in दिल्ली)
I'm somehow reminded of the impermanence of life.
The words "जीवन का एक ही सत्य म्रत्यु है" just make so much sense.
I begin to go down a rabbithole of how things would've been in the past when those buildings were getting made. When each person wanted something grander to be built for their rememberance (some still stand today) yet when they died, they had no one but themselves. Yet when they were making peace with death, which was standing at their doorstep, everyone begged for forgiveness, for one more day, for one more moment to be a changed person.
As a Hindu, I really like how we deal with the concept of death. As someone who studies Advaita philosophy, I love how it approaches death not as this giant entity to be scared of, but as something to just accept as a part of the journey of your eternal soul.
As someone who has dealt with the death of her grandmother and is seeing her ailing, ageing grandparents everyday, it gives me a certain solace to know that she is safe out there, that she is not her body, no body is their physical bodies but their आत्मन which is eternal, forever living. I find solace in knowing that by my actions, my words and my values I can keep her spirit alive.
When we were performing the rituals for her in the body form, I couldn't help but notice how each of them teaches a different value.
When we bathed her for the final time, I was taught the value of having your families as साथि to help you complete your journey.
When we lit the fire that would follow her till the crematorium, it reminded me how the true purpose in life is to follow the flame of knowledge. None of your material possessions follow you, but only the eternal flame of knowledge.
When we performed her 13th day pooja, and the days leading up to it, where we fed her soul with भोजन, it reminded me of how the families are gradually taught to let go of the mortal and remember their values through good deeds and actions (like feeding the needy, donating the clothes to people who are homeless).
When I saw my father go to the crematorium, as a dutiful son in law, despite his disagreements with my mother on various issues, I was taught what co existence means.
When all us cousins flew in from different parts of the country, it taught my love. Love, which is unconditional, which transcends mortal statuses. I had my exam in 2 days, my cousin had her interview the next day, my other cousin brother had his book launch scheduled while my eldest sister had just gotten engaged.
So when I see people fight and wreck havoc due to ideological differences and political gains, I feel like reminding them of the ONLY TRUTH THAT IS PERHAPS नित्य WHICH IS म्रत्यु. I urge them to go to Benaras/काशी, where you see what truly matters in life is - Love and the eternal quest of knowledge.
P.s. if anyone belongs to any other religion please please tell me how you all deal with death, the concept of death and the ritualistic significance. I would really really love to know.
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myfavouritelunatic · 1 year
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The Blacksmith
To everyone who has read, liked, and/or reblogged this story... THANK YOU! ❤️
There’s trouble on the horizon...
Pairing: Halbrand/Sauron x Female Reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: Very light physical violence, but otherwise none.
Links to Chapter One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, and Fourteen!
Chapter Fifteen
It wasn't long after he departed that your curiousity got the better of you, wanting to see what he was helping this Lord Celebrimbor craft. Once you found and entered the forge, a glorious sight was before your eyes. Halbrand was at the centre of the room, no longer dressed in that azure coloured outfit from earlier. He still wore blue, but this fabric had a grey shade mixed in with it, and was lined in silver beading that matched the metal torc wrapped around his neck, resting on his collar bone. He was also covered in a leather apron and gloves to protect him as he worked, sweat and grime staining his skin where it could be seen. He looked incredible, and you knew this was exactly how he felt when he saw you in your crimson dress.
Halbrand beamed as you entered his vision, and he stopped what he was doing. Grabbing the attention of an elf close by him, he urged them to come over to where you stood. It was the same elf that had been present with Elrond during your emotional arrival in Eregion. "Celebrimbor, meet the love of my life." "I thought smithing was your love." Celebrimbor spoke in jest. The three of you shared a knowing laugh. "Well one cannot make smithing their queen. But I can be its king." "What pray tell are you making, Lord Celebrimbor, that requires the assistance of my love?" The elven smith and Halbrand glanced at each other excitedly. "We have been charged with making something that will save the elves of Middle Earth." Celebrimbor answered you. "Save the elves? What do you mean?" "Their light is fading. This is the only hope they have, my love. Otherwise they shall make for the grey havens and sail to Valinor. Never to return." explained Halbrand. "Does that include Galadriel?" Halbrand nodded gravely. "The object we craft will restore the elves to their full power. Then they can remain here and not dwindle into relics." 
"Forgive us, my lady, but we must return to the task at hand." said Celebrimbor, and you gave a slight nod, then Halbrand kissed your forehead, and you retreated into the shadows of the room to watch them work. You found yourself completely transfixed by what was happening before you. Thoughts of your first meeting with Halbrand appeared in your mind, memories of how easy the small tasks you had given him were, and how he still relished the work despite that. Yet that was nothing compared to this. The focus on his face, the deliberate and concise movements he made with the equipment, his interactions with Celebrimbor and the other elves in the forge. You could sense the feeling in the room, the feeling of vital importance that surrounded their quest to bring forth the saviour of the elves in material form. Hours passed by with you simply content watching your man work. Every now and then he'd shoot you a quick glance from across the room. And each time he looked back to what was in front of him, you noticed a smile on his face. He was very pleased you were witnessing this. You wondered if you were a distraction maybe, but given no one had asked you to leave, you assumed you were right to stay.
Then suddenly, an explosion wrecked the building. You used your arms to shield yourself quickly, but thankfully no major debris was flung in your direction. As the dust and smoke cleared, you and Halbrand ran to each other to be certain the other was unharmed. He clasped his hands over your arms and studied your body furiously. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?" "I'm fine, I'm fine. But you?" you asked frantically, more concerned for him. "I'm okay, my love. Celebrimbor?" he called out with worry. "Yes. All good here." the elf spoke between coughs. It was then that Galadriel and Elrond entered the room. "What has happened?" she asked, shocked at the fallout before her. "The mithril is proud." answered Celebrimbor. "It refuses every effort to bond it with lesser ores." Elrond spoke up then. "Tapping into the powers of the Seen and Unseen world seemed to soften the boundaries between the two." Celebrimbor sighed in frustration. His predicament was vexing him, but not Halbrand. You could tell by his face his mind was searching for the answer they needed. "Doesn't make any sense. We used enough pressure to fuse the heavens with the earth. It should have held this time!" The elven smith’s anger was clear. "Patience. This is a journey." Elrond offered his counsel. "Not every step we take will be forward. It may take time." "Time? We don't have time!”
“Perhaps that is enough for today.” Galadriel declared, hoping to cool the temper that had risen within Celebrimbor. “Perhaps we've been pushing ourselves too hard?" Her words were stern. It was then that your love interjected, and you watched the cogs tick over behind his eyes, as the solution finally presented itself to him. "'Pushing ourselves too hard.' Supposing that's the trouble. Supposing we've been using too much force?" "Meaning what?" asked Elrond, unsure what Halbrand meant. Celebrimbor was now putting it together himself. "Meaning that the metals shouldn't be forced to join but more... drawn or coaxed together. Now, if that's true we've been... we've been doing it all inside out!" He laughed in his bewilderment, and Halbrand grinned gleefully. "Quickly." Celebrimbor motioned to his new smithing partner. "Dismantle this. We start again."
You looked to your love, hoping to catch his excited expression at this new approach, but you caught something else entirely. For Halbrand's eyes were not on you then, they were on Galadriel. Following his gaze to her, you watched as an elf handed her a large scroll. You noticed Halbrand turn away back to his work, but you decided then to follow Galadriel, and discover exactly what she had been given. If it had piqued the interest of your king, then it was worthy of yours as well. Based on your earlier conversation, you had hoped that within this scroll there lay the answers to what treachery was plaguing Halbrand and yourself. That had to be it.
Catching up with her on the stairs that lead down and out of the forge, you began your interrogation. "What is that, Galadriel?" The elf however said nothing, only kept walking. Once the bottom of the staircase was reached, she grabbed you by the arm and lead you into a nearby room, closing the door. She then unrolled the parchment, studying it intensely. You saw how her demeanour changed from hopeful to sheer anxiety. "Galadriel... what is that?" you repeated your earlier question, praying she would enlighten you. "Galadriel!" you shouted her name, pressing her. It was then a single tear quickly fell from her eyes, and her fair skinned face turned even paler. She could not look at you as she spoke.
"The line... was broken... Halbrand is not the king of the Southlands." "What?!" you practically yelled the word. "What do you mean?" "The royal line was severed... over a millennia ago..." "That can't be right." you said, not believing a word from her. "Let me see that." You approached her, snatching the scroll from her hands. Unfurling it before your eyes, you followed the royal ancestry of the Southlands, one descendant after another until... there were no more. You threw the parchment on the floor in disgust. "This is a lie. A fabrication. Treason!" you spat these words at your elf friend. She let your name pass her lips, her voice quivering. "It is no lie. These records are precise." Galadriel sighed then, almost in defeat, and finally looked you in the eyes. "Halbrand... is not who I have proclaimed him to be. He is no king."
Your eyes widened in shock at her words, refusing to believe her. "How dare you!" you screamed at her, and pushed her back up against the wall. Looking at Galadriel, you knew who she was, what she meant to you, to Halbrand, yet the anger within you now made you wish you had your dagger to her throat. Halbrand wouldn't lie, not about this. You couldn't believe Galadriel would let herself be deceived by such a falsehood. "You have made a grave error, elf." your voice was sharp, and tinged with the darkness you could no longer keep at bay. "Halbrand is the king of the Southlands. And I am to be his queen. I pray you find another scroll that speaks this truth, because this one is faulty. Something has gone awry." The next words you spoke were wrapped in your malevolence, and they were loud. "Don't you dare betray us!" Your rage was blinding you, but somehow, there was still an inkling within you that told you maybe Galadriel was right. And that you were using your words against her, to convince yourself.
"Release me." the she-elf hissed through gritted teeth. You reluctantly did so after a moment, and Galadriel picked up the discarded lineage before composing herself. "It seems the woman I thought my friend is gone. I could not save her in time." It was bizarre to hear her speak of you this way, to you as if you were not in the room. Suddenly a sharp pain rippled out from your chest. "But what could I have saved... when he already had you." Galadriel let another tear fall, then she took her leave of you, and the pain grew until you were sobbing in agony. You wanted to rip your heart from your chest to make it stop. It was then you realised the pain was not physical, it was mental. Your heart was breaking. Galadriel seemed lost to you. The one and only true being that had been by your side since the moment you met her... had abandoned you. Or rather, it appeared, you had forced her away.
Could she have been right? Because a bigger question crossed your mind then: why would Galadriel lie? Was Halbrand a deceiver? You knew him to be capable of concealing truths, maybe even speaking in double meanings, but to actually lie to you... Your stomach dropped as a realisation hit you. Could this revelation about his heritage have been what he was about to tell you? He had been seconds away from finally revealing all he kept hidden within. Was this it? Or was there something else entirely at play? Regardless, your tears consumed you, the grief of losing a friend taking hold. Suddenly you didn't care anymore. You wanted answers, and you wanted them now.
  Storming out of the room, you took the steps up two at a time, making haste. Reaching the forge, you realised instantly that Halbrand was no longer there, uncertain as to why. However, Celebrimbor was nearby, so you strolled up to him, inquiring as to the whereabouts of your love. "Why he went to fetch Lady Galadriel. There has been another thrilling development." "What's that?" "We have come to the conclusion that, in order to achieve the desired outcome, we cannot stop at one object. For there would be too much power held within it, and that is too great a risk. We shall be forging two rings." "Rings?" you repeated, surprised. All this fuss for two tiny circles of metal. "And they will be great rings of power indeed, unlike any this world has seen." Celebrimbor's eyes were glowing, his joy almost palpable. "Two rings... that will save your people?" you asked sceptically. "Of this, I am certain." His conviction was unwavering, and you smiled at him warmly. If you were no longer to be saved, as Galadriel had said, then you were glad something could be. Deciding not to wait for Halbrand's return, and fearful of what Galadriel was going to confront him with, you bid farewell to Celebrimbor, letting him return to his work. Something in you told you to head for the river, as it seemed a place Galadriel found peaceful, or at least it was a place she felt comfortable with confrontation.
On your way to reach the banks of the Glanduin, the object of your desire appeared. Halbrand was without his smock and gloves now, that gorgeous blue grey outfit on display. It might have been your favourite thing you'd seen him wear thus far. However, there was something off in his demeanour. You knew instantly that something had transpired between him and Galadriel. And since she was not present, you didn't know what to think. "Halbrand, whatever she showed you... it is a fiction." He only smiled at the words you said, before taking you in his arms and bestowing upon you one long kiss. You melted into his touch, like you always had, and always would. When he let his lips part from yours, he spoke low and closely into your ear.
  "Galadriel is right, my love. Although... I am a king... just not the king she thought." "Halbrand, you're not making any sense. Is this what you were going to tell me earlier? About what lies underneath?" "Yes, my love." And as he pulled himself back so his face was in your view, you gasped in horror. His eyes were not his eyes. They were the eyes of the Halbrand you had dreamed about. The one consumed by his darkness. Your love let a small smile appear on his face. "I am the one they call... Sauron."
Tagging: @starlady66 @denzit @chimeracuddles @restless-tides @hikarielizabethbloom @anemarie @coraleethroughthelookingglass @mordorgp 
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venusvxen · 11 months
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Seeing The World Through The Lens Of Your 4D
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Was thinking in the shower how we have events ,, good or bad,, that happen in the 3d and they influence the way we view certain things that pertain to it for the rest of our life.
Obviously if you’re reading this you’re well acquainted with the law so we all know that the reason those things keep showing up the way they do is because we’ve accepted them as fact in the 4d so that’s why the patterns keep popping up in the physical. Everything starts above nothing **actually** happens or ends in the 3d…
So i was thinking… instead of viewing the world through the lens of our old shitty programming.. why don’t we just view certain areas of our life through the lens of the version of ourself who already has what they want..
this isn’t a huge epiphany of course but it’s rlly just me realizing that everything that nothing really happens in the physical. like.. nothing at all.. so why wouldn’t you be able to apply this knowledge to the things you want and start giving them to yourself..
to do this you would have to take your imaginal experiences as **fact** and make your assumptions based off those experiences. The experiences have to be viewed as real as the experiences you have in ur 3d that you use to make assumptions..
for example.. let’s just say you’re manifesting being in a loving relationship in ur 4d and experience being loved and pampered and being treated really well by ur person… you would take that experience as factual.. bc it is.. bc it truly happened uno.. because you *truly* have that experience you would find it futile to walk around on eggshells irl expecting future partners to hurt you or even say “i’ll never find someone” because you have truly experienced love and being loved..
that’s just an example i could think of off the top of my head.. i hope this makes sense i’m not in a ranty mood tonight but it’s rlly practicing **consciously** legitimatizing imaginal acts and basing our world view off our **imaginal** experiences as opposed to what we **see** because at the end of the day everything is imagination. all of our beliefs are things we’ve accepted in imagination in a way we just weren’t aware of it at the time.
I think by doing this it’s a way in which we can “act” like the version of ourself who has our desire.. before i used to be soooo stressed by figuring out how to do this and what neville meant.. i would legitimately like.. try to figure out how to talk different.. think different.. and none of it came natural because self wasn’t changed and it was all done in an effort to get… like it felt super forced…
i’ve kind of slowly been realizing lately though that my issue and why my manifestations haven’t been “externalized” is because of my putting the 3d over the 4d and waiting…. waiting for proof and confirmation… by legitimatizing my experiences and trying my best to react to the world based on what happens in the 4d.. not only will it make you feel better as a person **assuming you’re imagining good things** but obviously you’ll be acting as the person who has your desire which in turn will make it materialize faster
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