#thank god this post finally stagnated

[fenharel]

saskia i am on my hands and knees begging for some ysabel info! what’s her backstory? what’s she like during the game? she’s so 🥰💖

[PERSONALITY]

Ysabel is a noble, Lolth Sworn Drow, living in Menzoberrazan and is a School of Divination Wizard

Shes an chaotic neutral ENTP, Gemini, 125 years old and 1.60m tall

Ysabel is creative and intelligent, mischievous and cunning. Some perceive her as quirky, eccentric - funny, confident with a giant ego, but also power hungry and selfish, sometimes cruel. She has always been full of ideas, always thinking of new and better ways to do things. She’s always been curious, more often than not you find her with her nose stuck in a book. Her childhood bedroom was exploding with books about fungi or tomes like “The past and present: a Scholars Guide to Divination”. 

She’s also rather extroverted and a social chameleon, excellent at manipulation and persuasion, something her mother often took advantage of, as she would often use her children like chess pieces in her political affairs.

[BACKSTORY]

The noble house of Do’Rahel is one of the 8 powerful houses in Menzoberranzan

Ysi has two older sisters (Yris, Yvory) and one younger brother (Ysmael, my warlock charlatan & very first D&D oc 😘)

Their mother (Yaelryn Do’Rahel) is a matron mother, a priestess of Lolth and a powerful and influential figure in Menzoberrazan’s affairs

As most intelligent people are prone to, Ysabel was more questioning of things like societal norms or rules and ideas than what was socially acceptable in the Cult of Lolth, something her mother often reminded her of through whipping. But her mother was also more progressive than some would believe - when her daughter showed more interest in the arcane than continuing her training as a cleric she encouraged it. She thought that having one of her daughters in the circle of the Sorcere was something that could be beneficial to her.

After a particularly nasty ambush on Ysabel (your regular weekend in the Underdark really) her mother assigned one of their warriors as her personal guard - a tiefling slave called Lucien (Side note but he’ll be romancing Shadowheart in a future playthrough 🤓)

Lucien was in his early twenties and enslaved for around 5 years at the time, he was passionate and charming, warm and strong. But he was also as cunning as he was kind. Ysabel liked him, and often would spend more time with him than was strictly necessary. He had Ysabel figured out quickly, and noticed that traits in her that might be weaknesses in her mothers eyes, could be his opportunity. That growing close to her could be his ticket to get free.

But things didn't necessarily work out for him at first as he would have thought - both of them fell in love.

He would tell her stories of his previous life, about his ideals and morals, about the world above. How children do not fear for their life where he is from, how parents love their children unconditionally, how he missed feeding the neighbors ducks before he would go to school. Ysi would laugh at him sometimes, call him weak and soft. But sometimes she would indulge in his stories. Catching herself thinking of them in bed before she go meditating. How strange it must be to live so truly carefree.

The influence Lucien had on her was undeniable. Small and meaningless at first maybe but there nonetheless. There were glimpses of true kindness in Ysabel only he got to see. Glimpses of love - real love, not just the craving for flesh or power he was accustomed to from other Drow. He saw that he had shaken her morals and beliefs, slightly perhaps, but shaken. So when she finally wanted to set him free out of her own volition, instead of running when his binding spell was broken he asked for her to come with him.

She helped him to stage his own death and broke his bonds and let him go, but she didn’t go with him. This would be a turning point in her life, something she regretted for the rest of her existence, something she kept thinking about for years on end.

For many years after, she buried herself in her tower. She never dared to think of why she said no, instead she sat in front of her mirror of memories, where she relived the time she had with Lucien. But in doing so, a part of herself, the past party in fact, was lost in it. Her present self was split in half. She was either overly good or overly evil, and she became known for being mad and for research and experiments that were even extreme by Drow standards. 

She was in this state for at least 60 years. She had short periods of time where she managed to stabilize herself through experiments, but it never worked for long. Nevertheless, she made a name for herself, she was an extremely powerful wizard, was considered one of the masters of Sorcere and had a place in their council. (Much to their dismay. Assassination attempts from her colleagues were a daily occurrence tbh.)

[GAME TIMELINE]

House Do’Rahel was infiltrated by Absolute cultists, leading to the almost death of her sisters Yris and Yvory, and the losing a handful of their staff members. Ysabel's mother also heard rumors of similar things happening in House Baenre and other houses all over the city. Sensing a bigger plot, instead of sending warbands like her colleagues, she only send Ysabel and a handful of warriors on a scouting mission. She was to gather as much information as possible. If she would see an opportunity beneficial to them - she should take it, and most importantly she was also to kill or capture any heretic or deserter of Lolth.

The trail they followed led them to the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate. She didn’t know it at the time but she was on her way to Moonrise Towers when she was abducted. When she woke up in the Nautiloid, the tadpole didn’t just strip her of her powers, but also stabilized her mind.

Being fully herself again after so long felt like having someone forcefully pushing a heart back into her. At the beginning of her journey she’s manipulative (she does a lot of the “heroic” options not because she thinks it’s the right thing to do, but because she thinks it’s a smarter way to uncover what is going on and/or because working with the Absolute would go against Lolth), she’s also selfish and a bit cruel, but a lot of things she does suddenly don’t feel the same to her anymore, and an top of that the problem with the tadpole - it forces her into introspection. 

At some point she realizes that her companions remind her of Lucien, and the time she had with him. Her development throughout the game mainly consists of her realizing that she rather wants love and friendship than pure ruthless power. She develops a consciousness, empathy. Something Lucien already built the groundwork of so many years ago. She realizes she was too much of a coward back then, that she couldn't let go of all that power and desert Lolth even though that's what she really wanted. Surrounded by her new friends, she doesn’t want to make the same mistake again. In her mind, she’ll never be truly good, much less a hero. But she doesn’t want to be what she used to be either. Seeing real friendship, love, experiencing it for herself, she realizes the only times she wasn't hollow was with Lucien - and now, with them. 

Her new friends act as mirrors to herself as well. She sees herself in Gale when he gets obsessed over the Crown, she sees herself in Astarion when he’s willing to kill all his former friends for power. And she sees herself in Lae’zel, Wyll & Shadowheart when it comes to the influence a God, Goddess or devil can have on you. They were all on the path she already walked on, and the guilt she is carrying with her over things she can’t change anymore is overwhelming, so she stops them all, helps them see what is truly important. 

About the reason she was in Baldur’s Gate in the first place, she isn’t honest with her companions at first, she has obviously her own agenda like everyone else in that camp. She was forced to explain herself by Wyll when she let True Soul Nere kill the Gnomes. Having a tadpole in her head made everything more personal of course, she starts going against the Absolute not in the name of Lolth or for her mother but for herself and her own beliefs in Act 2.

After the game, her mind is still hers. Going through so much change and admitting her biggest fears repaired herself, like a curse she casted and then lifted on herself. Also, she and Astarion guide the Vampire spawn in the Underdark for a while, and she also researches for ways to make Astarion walk in the sun again (and I like to headcanon that she succeeds :3)

If you want to take a peak, here is Ysabels pinterest 🥺, and since i mentioned Lucien, here is his'.

#shadowglens #answered #thank you for enabling me sophie. i wanted to post an info dumb for so long but im such a lazy mf #im leaving kisses on ur forehead but im also running away in fear. god i already cut this down but it's still so long IM SO SORRY 😭 #you: whats her backstory; me: here is my essay. kdjfslkjflsf #ysabel do'rahel #ocs tag #bg3 spoilers #lucien lovera #& yes u guessed right. jekyll & hyde was my inspiration for her Lul. also redemption arcs are my unguilty pleasure :3 #idk if i was really able to explain it but ysi's biggest flaws are cowardice and stagnation??? #having a damn mindflayer worm in her brain gave her finally the kick in the butt to be honest with herself #i think even if her mind would have stayed intact she would still have stayed in the underdark. she just would have been unhappier about it #or worse. however u wanna call it #oh side note but she was neutral evil before the lucien times. then become somewhat CN (then was split into chaotic good/chaotic evil.) #her current desposition is chaotic neutral. just to clarify since it might sound weird

[concert-bflat]

I suddenly got hit with Kano Brainworms and now I have this Completely Unorganized post and it's gonna be your guys' problems now !! Just saying there is no flow to this whatsoever I just slapped all my points on and called it a day

Just. god I will Never stop thinking about the Tateyama siblings relationship with their younger selves and changing and growing and learning to accept themselves and Kano's. Not doing that. Remaining stagnant.

Like it's Everywhere . (Unfortunately it's been Sooo long since I've read light novel 5 so I don't have any sources to pull from there but I'm sure there's a ton okay)

Yobanashi Decieve is spent tearing down Kano's layers throughout the entire song and what do you find at the end? When he finally admits that he hates all this? Hates himself? What do you find at the center of the Kano Onion? His crying child self. At his core he still believes he is that crying boy, even says it himself "Ah, you never change", he's sneering at his current and past self, because they're the same, they're all the same. He's never moved on from his past habits and weakness. He looks at him and all he has to say is "Ah, you never change" and "Whoops, I screwed up"

Oh but we're not Quite done peeling the Kano Onion yet !! There's still a liiitle more left...

Close-up shot time !! Now you can see in its fullness his weakest moments, he's mocking his own suffering. He smiles and mocks himself, closes his eyes to his own pain and just bows. Throws my laptop

There's also this official art !! I think about this a lot but have never voiced it out before so here we go~

Just. Everyone showing off the wounds that led to their deaths, either with a smile/some enthusiasm or indifference at worst, with a pretty character-telling pose as well. And then fucking Kano, not even focusing on the photoshoot but staring directly at the evidence of his weakest moment, holding it limply, detachedly. Maybe saying that he's starting at it with scorn is too strong a word, his face looks slightly bitter at best, but I'd bet everything that that's what he's feeling.

I don't know just. Everyone around him, whether it's his siblings or the whole god damn Dan, being shown with some form of acceptance of their pasts and traumas, meanwhile Kano's still staring it in the face. Damn, you really don't lie when you say you haven't changed huh?

God my favorite example though, the one that makes me Scream.

Thank you Sidu for this art! I am now on the ground crying.

I'm too lazy to grab them right now but Kido and Seto also have art of themselves with their past selves. Kido fondly pats the head of her younger, insecure self, having growing confident and comfortable in her own skin. Seto holds his past self's hand in something liks solidarity. He doesn't have to be scared anymore. He's becoming the stronger person that he wanted to be.

And Kano?

Ah. well~. He's clinging to his past self, sobbing into his lap while his past self attempts to comfort him. Hm. With growing up you should become someone that your younger self can be proud of, right? Like Kido and Seto. They overcame their shortcomings so they could become proud of who they are today, right? Kano's collapsed in front of his past self.

Guess he didn't really do that, huh?

If anything, he's putting himself even lower than his past self. Maybe he hasn't grown, maybe not even stagnated but rather became worse, just with the same flaws that he had in the past. He didn't change at all, he just sank lower.

Your younger self can attempt to comfort you but didn't you hate yourself back then, too? So what does that make you now? Your younger self looks hunched over and dejected. He's probably just as disappointed as you are.

Ah, and there's text too, right? What does that say?

Mm. (I might have written an incorrect character but this sounds about right I think?) I feel like this was said somewhere else in kagepro, also in regards to Kano, but to be completely honest I totally forgot where. Still though. Uh.. fun! Kano says to himself not words of comfort but assurance that the future will only be more miserable, that he will only hate himself more as time goes on. As if you couldn't already tell with the art itself.

In Yobanashi Decieve, present Kano sees his other self suffering and jeers scornfully. They never changed. Here, past Kano and present Kano suffer together, with present Kano openly suffering if only to himself, clinging to his past hurt for comfort. Together they think, they never will change, they'll only get worse. It'll only get more painful.

Ahem. Just. Ugh! This one piece says so god damn much, and even more when you put it next to Kido's and Seto's. It killed me when I first saw it and still kills me to this day !!! God !

Also I don't have any funny images for this one but. Thinks about. (And I might have some details wrong because again, it's been a while since I've read light novel 5) How he thought he was useless as a child, wondered why he wasn't discarded like a functionally useless object (pretty sure he thought this while his mom threw away a broken tv remote or something?). And then in manga route 2 how he gives his life away as a tool to preserve the others' lives. He has a "use" and he's expending his whole life on it. Like I mean they're gonna die anyway but do you Really have to be like that I Hate you I hate you I h

Like once he has an objective purpose like that he faces it with an easy smile on his face. Bittersweet, yeah. But he does it so god damn willingly. Maybe he's just pretending to take on the role so easily, but still, I can't help but think that he found some comfort in having a direct "use" like this. Even if it just meant his death, for a hopeless cause. If he could just fulfill this purpose, then....

Just the way he smiles at his own demise during that Whole Sequence, even when the remainder of the Dan is Right There.

Just man. Collapses.

Kagepro is all about change and growth and growing up and realizing change and the future really isn't too scary. Meanwhile Kano's stagnant, still sees him as unchanged from his younger self, is too scared to change his manners even if it may help him. No wonder he hates himself. I'm just. Guh, shoves the themes of the narrative in his face Kano Please I'm begging

Like mf he looks content like everyone else in Summertime Record but Are You Really. Are you Really happy yet. Have you really found it within yourself to accept change. Accept yourself. Accept Everything. Do you really think that you'll be able to finally make your younger self smile?

Buries my face in my hands God this man will never Not haunt me for the rest of my days. Get him therapy. I'm normal about him.

I was supposed to be working on assignments but here I am, with my stupid little Kano essay at 1 in the morning. I doubt anyone's gonna read this but if you did I hope you enjoy? This man is very silly in all the worst ways. I love him, I hate him, I want to shove him into a microwave. I want to put him under a microscope. I have multiple times. This man is like a fundamental character that will never Not be a part of my life even when I thought the kagepro hellhole was somewhat behind me for the meantime. He just. Man! He's a lot. And I hope you're in pain with me now too over it ! Okay that's all bye byee~

#kagepro #kagerou project #mekakucity actors #kagerou daze #shuuya kano #kano shuuya #txt #character analysis #i am in so much pain over this mf #this man is so much and everything more #just. ough. he hates himself So Much #and while it would be hypocritical of me to tell him Not to just. #shakes him around . you really are something aren't you #shuuya kano truly is a character of all time #to me at least

[restless-witch]

better not wake the baby - spring part 2

link to chapter on ao3- ya gotta be logged in though

Fic Summary: Jaskier isn't helpless. He'd been a shepherd before. He'd killed a wolf before. He'll slaughter again if that's the price of freedom.

Fic Rated M: explicit gore/medical descriptions and miscarriage/abortion aftermath, swearing, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, really gross attitudes towards omegas, abusive relationships, references to fucking, brief suicidal ideation, tbh I'll probably write some actual fucking later

This fic was current up and to part 17 of Honey - Sometimes the Tunnel Only Leads to Darkness and after better not wake the baby- spring part 1. You'll enjoy this fic more if you’ve read them <3

Witcher 3 + Netflix / This part is rated T for contains references to sexual stuff and swearing

heyyo @oldandkinky it's a treat for you and me we've got some plot happening

Drown yourself in crocodile tears Curse the gods what made 'ye Pine away for your banner year But it better not wake the baby How long will this go on? How long, indeed? bang a drum 'till the money's all gone- but it better not wake the baby -The Decemberists -  What a Terrible World, What a Beautiful World

He'd spent his first weeks on the lam in the wilds and resolves not to fucking do that again- even now that he's got his pack properly filled. It's easier to avoid Geralt in the woods but the constant trapping of game for supper wore on him as quickly as the misery of waiting out the spring rains did. 

All told, he was lucky to be in this part of Redania, where itinerant work was a little easier to come by and the locals generally still observed the customs of hospitality.

He emerged from Lettenhove in time for the spring plowing and thanked the lone lucky star watching over him that the local gossips were still chattering over the white haired witcher that left weeks ago. 

He was free of outrunning Geralt, for at least a little while.

Geralt was hunting him, he was sure- the scorched garden back home confirmed Geralt's rage even if Jaskier was foolish enough to think the witcher would take his flight easily. Living on the path, however, was not free and Geralt would need to slow his chase for coin. 

Jaskier really hoped he wasn't banking too much on gossip to keep him ahead, or behind, Geralt. 

He drifted between towns for a few weeks, living just a little better than hand to mouth, taking jobs in the fields and hunting for herbs to sell. The cuts and bruises he accumulated on jobs went away as easily as if he'd wiped them off and, more out of boredom than anything, he forms the sign of igni and a sputtering flame erupts from his fingertips. Which scares the shit of him enough that it's another week before he tries again: the signs have mixed success but he's torn between the terror of his foreign body and the desperate drive to take any advantage he can. He feels unsettled by this life- too close to what he experienced on the path, too close to the little jobs he'd take back home- feels like he's stagnating and mouldering even as he pushes his body farther beyond what he knew he should be capable of.

It's outside of Rinde that the grift begins.

It was raining- a heavy downpour through the night and into the day that seemed to follow Jaskier as he slogged through the muddy roads and only the guess-timate of Rinde being a three hour walk that forced his feet all the way to the inn.

Well, he thought it was the inn, but the unamused Ealdorman's clerk quickly dashed that presumption. The clerk mutters a curse into his ledger before asking if the amount on the posting is enough for him to just get on with it .

"Pardon?" Jaskier can't help but be polite.

"One drowner," the clerk enunciated, like Jaskier was some kind of fool, "I understand that's more a nuisance in your profession," he exaggeratedly looked down at Jaskier's chest, "but Kazimierz finally emptied the orphanage."

Oh. The medallion. The lover's medallion, smaller than Geralt's but, proclaiming an allegiance to the school of the Wolf. He'd nearly forgotten he wore it at all and had kept it around his neck merely to keep it safe for when he eventually pawned it. It must have wrested itself outside of his clothes while he hunched from the rain. With Tomek wrapped and strapped to his back and his gambeson worn to protect him from the cold- he can't even fault the clerk for his assumptions. 

Before he can help himself, he's agreeing to the contract.

-----------------------

In retrospect, killing his first drowner wasn't the hardest thing he'd ever done but it was the most frightening thing he'd ever done by choice. The White Wolf killed the others a few weeks back, but the lone remnant had made enough trouble by the bridge that the ealdorman promised him room and board for a week if he'd rid them of it. The room was a barn stall and the board was a meager basket of vegetables and eggs, but he'd been on the road enough that a week with the same roof over his head was plenty. 

He's so fucking stupid- but wasn't like trying to outsmart a witcher had really gotten him any progress. He knew a lot about drowners, for all that the witchers griped about contracts for them- it really was because they were a nuisance to a witcher. Hardly a monster and more of giant rancid smelling pain in the ass that mostly got handled by witchers because a crowd of them would overwhelm a normal human by the stench alone.

This was... doable if he didn't act a complete fool.

He went out the next afternoon when the rain had finally abated and found a gnarled yew tree. He climbed up and tested the boughs- swinging himself from a few of them and settling on the one with the best line of sight. He hung his pack on the branch above him and nocked his bow. He waited-

and waited-

well, fuck maybe he should've tried to track it during daylight hours.

At twilight it dragged itself out of the water- happily munching on a bullfrog. Jaskier loosed an arrow and the drowner squealed when it sank into its foot. It squalled as it tried to yank its foot off the ground- the beast didn't even wonder where it came from. He loosed a second towards the other foot but it sailed peacefully into the water. The third trapped the other foot and the drowner had enough mind to rip the fifth out of its chest.

He'd have to get closer then. 

Jaskier pulled Tomek from the branch above and hopped down: he tried casting igni but panicked and the sputtering flame just alerted the drowner to his presence- the drowners' fins flaring when it turned to claw at him. It lurched forward uselessly with its feet stuck, but it kept screeching and Jaskier wondered if his ears were bleeding. He threw his whole weight behind a clean aim towards its neck.

His swing went wide and when he rolled to the side to try and not trip he ended up just bashing its skull in with the blunt side. It crumpled to the ground but he frantically hacked away at the corpse until the head was completely severed.

He vomited onto the rocky shore. 

The body had stopped twitching: the gills dried out quickly and the revolting smell of rot and fish blood got stronger. Dawn was an hour or two away and Jaskier carefully crept back up the yew and pulled down his pack. He drank a little water and then a little temerian rye when his trembling wouldn't stop. He sat on the bank of the river and by the time daylight had started creeping over the body- he saw that the outside flesh was a mottled blue but the inside of the neck was grey. He stood back up and ambled back to the body, wrenching out his arrows, and kicking it over. It didn't look like a drowned person. It looked like a fish person with fine little scales and fins like a catfish. That-

that made it easier. It didn't really look like a person. if it was once a human then it hadn't been one for a very long time. 

The tongue, he remembered, was the traditional proof of the kill for a drowner. Something that annoyed Geralt because of how long they were. 

By this point, death had opened the jaw of the drowner's head for him and it was quick if very messy work to cut the tongue out. He panicked again. He hadn't thought ahead about what to do with the tongue. He paced the shore and panicked and panicked and panicked and until he was laughing hysterically. 

The great shuddering laughter did make him feel better in a way- it made the bit of flesh in his hand seem so fucking stupid and he did do it, he'd killed a verifiable monster. 

Gods he was so fucked- 

he'd done it though

-behind his heaving laughter he could feel the smallest reluctant flutter of hope in his chest. no he wasn't a witcher but maybe-

maybe he could go along with the hoax better than he thought he could. Most of their contracts were small like this, right? Maybe his grift wasn't as foolish as he'd thought it was.

-----------------------

He'd persuaded the ealdorman's wife to let him use her wash tub and fetch water from their well: he dragged them into the barn and stripped down. It was then he realized his smallclothes were sticky with drying slick. He felt revolted. He hadn't felt aroused but it must've happened when he was slaying the drowner. He'd been so caught up in the urgency and the terror, he hadn't noticed his body readying for what usually followed. Panic and arousal were tied together in his body. He'd known Geralt had ruined his twinges of lust but this was different. He was disgusting. A wretched example of an omega. A wretched example of a lover. He hated it. Hated his body. 

But it was all he had now. His silly dream of being a bard would never happen with his scarred face. Perhaps a wandering worker that occasionally busked, but no true bard could make it without a bit of wooing and he wasn’t feeling so vain as to pretend they were easy to ignore. No good alpha would take him with the bond mark or scarred womb, even if he claimed Geralt's death. He wasn't soft anywhere an omega should be. Not anymore. 

He stood above the bath a long time, avoiding looking at his blurry reflection. He tries casting igni again and his (traitorous) body didn’t hesitate to actually call the chaos this time so at least he was staring into a frothy  steaming bath instead. The minerals in the water filled his chest in a different way than the well water at home: which now that he thought about it, very rarely steamed with as much fervor either. He's told the air by the sea is salty in a good way, the only things he could compare it to are Kaer Morhen's springs and the Pontar, which sounds so strange and foreign he can hardly imagine it. Maybe he'll go to the coast, it's just as good a direction as any, become a sailor, just because he's playing Witcher now doesn't mean he can't try to wheedle a life aloft. 

The water was a bearable temperature by the time he finally calmed his thoughts enough to step in and it was like he cast axii on himself, the hot water sluicing all his thoughts away.  

He made up for the lack of payment by winning a few boxing matches: the smattering of scars on his torso and face were enough to convince the local tavern owner that he'll give a good show. The food in the basket left as payment by the ealdorman's wife dwindled quickly- he honestly hadn't planned on staying for the full week- but Zosia seemed to have a soft spot for him because a few more eggs and turnips and even a loaf of bread rolled in.

He paced the fields some- he killed a wolf prowling around and traded the pelt for a pair of boots and a handsome belt. The belt, regrettably and unavoidably, got traded for a fresh quiver of arrows and a proper sharpening for Tomek and his knife.

All told; a week earned him a purse of coppers (perhaps a lean two crowns when added up), Zosia ladling him a secret pot of milk as he leaves, and pointers to a few towns where he might find a little work.

-----------------------

He stumbled his way through the rest of the spring, mostly making coin helping with the tilling and taking on a contract for a warg which wasn't so different from killing a wolf besides the fact that the medallion that earns him the contract also earns him the missive to take his coin and leave before sundown. The same goes for flashing his medallion when he sells to the apothecarist- less bartering on the prices or the quality, but the same directive to leave the damned town the same day.

Town to town he goes and mingles and meets a handful of people who spot his medallion and ask after their friend Geralt . Jaskier briefly, in a moment of near insanity, wonders if there's a second witcher named Geralt of the Wolf School that just never returns to the Kaer for the Geralt they tell him of is gentle and carries a tome of poetry and permits brave children to ride Roach.

But the details remain the same- white hair, School of the Wolf, and a predilection for plums and brunettes- and Jaskier was forced to hold up the possibility that Geralt was a master manipulator of a caliber he didn't even know was possible to have charmed people in so many places into believing he was kind .

He supposed he too once thought Geralt was kind, for an afternoon, and perhaps they just never frustrated him enough for Geralt to lose his patience. The lone exception is an elf in the market who proclaims Jaskier and the other members of his guild "fine enough" but asks him to spit on Geralt the next time they meet as payback for "whatever striga crawled up his ass and died."

He agreed to do it for the both of them and feels vindicated when the elf elaborates that the witcher had been good-natured enough until their last meeting two years ago.

Jaskier traveled, he worked, he met folk foul and fair.

He survived and, for a time, that was enough.

-----------------------

Towards the end of the day, Nenneke was sealing her correspondence with wax, when Anka informed her that "an acquaintance has come by on an important matter." Anka added that it's a witcher but not the same one as last time, she thought, she's not sure. Anka's devotion to the goddess was admirable but her attention for anything but nurturing plants was rather lacking- Nenneke was surprised Anka noticed a visitor at the gate at all. Nenneke sank into her chair a bit, closing her eyes as she drew in a long breath, because she was getting a little done with Geralt breathing down her neck like she was his errand boy.

"Make sure there's a bed available," she finally said, resisting the urge to just turn him away, "and tell him I'll attend to him when I'm done." 

Done ended up being close to supper, after the postulant's vows of evening silence had taken hold: so she arranged for Geralt to eat with her in the hall outside the infirmary ward. She was tucking into a bowl of pottage when the witcher arrived but it wasn't Geralt that hesitantly strode across the hall. 

It was his little omega who wasn't so little anymore. His frame had thickened out and he was bearing more than a few scars- but the mating mark on his neck was still clear to the world. Anka must have arranged for him to bathe as well because he smelled merely of soap and soft citrusy omega nervousness. She carefully took a long breath and couldn't detect the acrid smell of terror he had last time or Geralt for that matter. 

This was going to be interesting.

"Priestess Nenneke," he said softly, taking the seat across from her, his frame curled small as he humbly bowed his head to her,  "thank you for taking the time to see me."

"You weren't 'the witcher' I expected to see," she said, leaning back and gesturing for him to accept the bowl across from her, she huffed a little laugh, "I'd be a poor priestess of Melitele if I turned away a traveler." 

He gave a little snort and the two ate in silence for a while. If Nenneke were younger, she would've tried to pry more from him: but he wasn't her first battered omega to show up without his alpha and he certainly wouldn't be her last. She wordlessly pressed a second serving on him- he'd bulked up a bit but there was a leanness to his cheeks she didn't like in omegas. 

"Has Geralt come to see you?" he finally asked, eyes trained on pulling the crust off his bread.

"Since we last met?" He nodded, "Yes, once. About a month ago- after Belleteyn." She watched him carefully and, instead of a spike of worry, his smell remained carefully nervous.

"Did he take Essi?" he started to press the inside of his bread flat.

"He couldn't if he tried," Nenneke said plainly, his eyes darted to her face and searched her eyes, "her rearing is in the temple's hands now. Besides," she gave an arch smile, "he can't tell her from Embla," there's no mistaking the relief that floods out of him and she started to feel a real fondness for him when his shoulders go slack. 

"Is she happy here?" 

"Truthfully, I don't see her often," Nenneke gave a little hum, "but we take care of our girls. She's the temple's now and I wouldn't even let you take her."

There was a pause as he took that in, he must have settled on accepting it because he sighed and turned a more serious glance to Nenneke, "Thank you, for taking care of her and easing my mind," he chewed his lip a bit, "I suppose I should tell you I've been traveling and working a bit as a witcher. The Witcher Yulek."

"I don't suppose it's with his permission you are doing this," she said, Jaskier shook his head, "you're too old for Vesemir to try and make a real witcher out of you anyway."

Jaskier swallowed and Nenneke could smell a load of trouble.

"Why are you here, Yulek?" she asked him firmly, "you knew when you signed Essi into our care that she'd not be leaving until she was an adult. Geralt isn't stupid enough to break the peace just to get her away from me."

"Will you tell him I was here?" she could smell anxiety begin to bloom in his scent.

"Is that what you want?" she retorted sharply and wrinkled her nose from his scent bursting with emotions, "I suppose that answers that. My allegiance isn't to him and I'll forgive the insult you'd think it would be," she scrutinized him intensely and saw his hands tighten on his lap like a child getting a scolding- she felt herself soften a bit, for he wasn't yet much more than a child, "my duty is to the people seeking Melitele's help here, now what is it you came here for?"

"My body," he said quietly, "I don't recognize it. Something is happening to me. He was going to kill me: he was going too far. And then I noticed- the changes. You must see-"

He wordlessly took a knife from his belt and cut into the flesh inside his arm- over a spot where she noticed a curious handful of similar scars.

He must have done this before. 

She kept herself in her seat and the two sat in silence as the blood quickly clotted- before he could bleed out- far quicker than should have been possible. She cycled through thoughts- a curse, some sort of latent skill for chaos, the trials-

She still wet her apron and tended to it, wiping away the blood as she'd done so many times to so many omegas.

"It's not the food," he continued, "I've been on my own since before Birke- I don't-" he trailed off.

That ruled out going through the Choice like Leo.

"He used to drink something,"Jaskier said, "some kind of fertility treatment, could that have changed me?"

"That doesn't sound likely," she said frankly, "for a draught to do that, it would need to be very concentrated in his body, not yours." Nenneke looked him over again, new eyes examining the way his shoulders had filled out and the thickness of his hair and the scars scrawled across his face, "is there anything beyond what you have shown me?"

"I can cast a sign," he bit his lip, "sometimes."

"May I touch you?" she asked and Jaskier nodded. She patted along his body, the nodes where chaos was prone to collecting, and felt the latent hum she associated with the witcher adepts.

How strange-

"Did you meet Eskel?" she could recall, many years ago, Eskel studying at the temple with all the other Witcher adepts and massaging a lame kitten back to health, "he has more chaos in his hands then the stones of power."

Jaskier's body locking under her hands was answer enough, "we wintered together," he said through his teeth.

"If that is what is changing you," she said carefully, "I think you need to go back to Kaer Morhen to find out- that's beyond the scope of anyone here. They were secretive enough about that before the school fell."

"Was he always like that?" Jaskier gritted out, "was Geralt always like that?"

"I've never seen him take an omega before if that's what you're asking," Nenneke said. She watched Jaskier seem to collect himself, letting out a shuddering breath as he unlocked his jaw and kneaded his palms into his thighs.

"I've met people," he said, mouth full of piss and vinegar, like each word was pulled from his teeth, "who speak of a Geralt I've never met. Kind. Gentle. Funny, even. I can't imagine you being a friend to an arse like Geralt, was he like that once or are they liars?"

"People change," she said carefully, "he's had his shortcomings. But-"

"But?"

"The summer after Blaviken-" she said, "he changed. Blaviken was bad enough- but the summer after was especially cruel to him."

"It's like some kind of poison in his mind-"

Oh. The basilisk. 

She hadn't even thought of that.

She needed to think.

She invited the boy, Yulek, Jaskier, Julian- whatever name worked- to stay at the temple while she thought.

-----------------------

Jaskier ended up staying at the temple for a whole week: earning his keep milling medicinal ingredients through the day. Nenneke introduced him to the novice Sorcha, a former Temerian Blue Stripes, who gave him a dirty tutoring in bomb making, battle dressing, and making medicine.

He leaves Ellander with a haircut, a silver dagger, and the dread that he must eventually, actually, realistically, return to the Kaer.

-----------------------

A/N- Encouragement and kind words will always make me more excited to write stuff <3 and feel free to dash off a message to me! I haven’t really made any friends in the fandom yet :3c

Thanks for reading, friends!

Rough and tumble ragged drafts on tumblr here: Actual Fic Better Not Wake The Baby

This fic is based on OldandKinky’s Honey-verse and you can also find them here: Honey-verse on Ao3 and OldandKinky on Ao3

and if you like my writing, I’ve also got “Varieties of Exile” 

#actual fic better not wake the baby #geraskier #honeyverse #jaskier #geralt of rivia #geralt/jaskier #geralt x jaskier #witcher au #the witch writes

[planceask]

Hey friends!

I’m sorry I’ve been so inactive. I had a spurt of “Hell yeah, let’s do this” to “Oh my god can the world stop moving for a bit.” 

I do plan to get back into this page, I just want to make a quick announcement! If I may. :3

So, if you follow my main blog @mistyhollowpro, you would know that I’m reblogging posts from my new blog @lostandfoundthebook

Why?

Because I’m publishing a book!

This will be my first release, and I’m so very excited for it to finally come to life! It’s been years in the making (I started it at 14 (Now nearing my thirties), it’s been rewritten so many times, and then two+ years of editing). It’s coming out May 15th!  

SO! If you’d like to support me, you can go to the page and give me a follow! That’ll keep you updated on all the events for the book, such as cons I sell it at, if I ever do book signings, and, of course, it’s release. In no way do you have to do this.

I’m just saying to have to do it.

So that is all in terms of that. Right now I’m just focusing on that, so I do apologize for the stagnation of this blog, but I promise to work hard. Right now I’m also focusing on learning to draw better, so please bear with me. ^^’

Alright, I’ll stop yapping your head off. Thanks so much for reading, and I hope to see you all soon! 

[addictivewhispering]

detailed post about my thoughts/criticisms of milan's recent performances that no one asked for but hey!! why not. i'm in a silly giggly mood rn so it's all lighthearted. no one's obliged to read i'm just rambling

overall: not a great mentality in the team rn. the players get nervous in important games (first ten minutes against inter), and get nervous and frustrated when losing. after spezia's 2nd goal you could see slips, more pointless fouls, more mistakes in play and passing. as a team there isn't much mental fortitude and that can prove to be a killer. for some reason we only show up against top-table opponents (napoli, lazio, atalanta but that was a while ago) and can't handle it against anyone else? idk but it's weird.

on pioli: is he to blame for lack of depth and the players making stupid mistakes on their own? i don't think so. but tactically it's undeniable that there are decisions he could make better (the calabria-dzeko mismatch has been talked about a lot). and he should be the one helping with team spirit and mentality. with everything happening right now we're stagnating with no real improvement. i respect what he's done for milan before and i do like him as a dude but i think in the summer it's time for him to go. (i don't think an immediate sacking would help as it may cause too much disruption and we might not be able to find a better replacement so soon)

on the defense: i just really don't understand why it's so inconsistent. probably due to the mentality stuff i mentioned earlier. i think kjaer/thiaw/theo have been the most decent recently, as tomori's been inconsistent all season and i don't know what calabria's doing half the time he's on the pitch. and we need to start conversations about kalulu. ever since he came back from injury he's kind of really stunk. maybe it's just me tho but i don't think he's been at all up to his standards recently. again the defense looked really solid vs lazio but against inter i felt like it was january again and that is certainly not a good thing...

on the midfield: well bennacer is out for the rest of the season so it's mostly a write-off for this area i think we're finished djfkdhfdjh. tonali/krunic nothing to say, i do think they've been solid and important even if krunic kind of ghosted against inter from what i can remember. as for pobega.... did yall see that "pass" he tried to do in the dying minutes that went straight out of play. that sums him up for me, he's a hard worker and has a good shot but other than that he doesn't really bring quality. as for quality, THANK FUCKING GOD pioli finally brought out adli. he didn't have much time but imo he really shone, good control of the ball and didn't manage to lose it in a stupid way like how most of our players do. just checked fotmob too and he completed the most dribbles of any player!!! good for him but when he came on in the 70th minute that speaks a lot about the others.

on the attack: one decision i will consistently fight against pioli over is the decision to play brahim as an attacking midfielder. HE'S NOT THAT GOOD AS AN AM. he just gets fucking bodied by everyone like against inter because he's so small (that should've been a penalty on him today btw), he works better out wide with more space. about saelemaekers, i've grown to respect him a lot recently, it feels like he always gives his best. even if his best isn't always like... top tier lmfao i still respect what he tries to do. with leao injured i thought he did pretty well as a deputy. as for messias.... i'm just gonna include this image here.

anyway back to it. we all know origi has been utter booty ass for most of this season. but honestly the last two or three games? he actually looks like a football player now LMFAOAOAOAI. he can actually run and do things with the ball who woulda thought!!! i'm waiting for the corner taken quickly on tuesday. cdk however... he looked somewhat decent for like one or two games recently but today he was back to being a passive force. i really don't know what to say about this boy, honestly i feel bad for him and i don't know what could fix it. a better coach maybe hmm??? hm??? anyway onto giroud, it pains me to say it but he really has not been good lately. i honestly just think he's tired. he constantly presses which wears out his legs, he barely even wins aerial duals or headers anymore which is supposed to be his specialty. idk man. he scored once in all of march and once in april. the busy schedule obviously doesn't help. he needs rest and so do i (typing this from my bed)

and finally, my idol ante rebic is finished

#my demons #long post #muri #sorta #i literally cant stop saying my idol ante rebic is finished idk what's wrong w me

[rotten-to-the-applecore]

My favorite part about Megamind, is that he literally Grew Up on Earth around humans, but is still confused about human culture and etiquette

#Megamind #thank god this post finally stagnated #100k

[illuminatedquill]

Nevertheless, Episode 9

More Thoughts/Analysis

“So it’s true, when all is said and done, grief is the price we pay for love.”

- E.A. Bucchianeri

Jae Eon’s Self Sabotage

Chekov’s Gun is the dramatic principle that details within a story will contribute to the overall narrative. You might have heard of this before in its simplest form: if there is a gun shown in Act 1, it absolutely must go off in Act 2 or 3. In episode 9 of Nevertheless, we have this scene right at the beginning:

Yes, that scene. Park Jae Eon sees Yang Do Hyeok standing off to the side as he waits outside Na Bi’s apartment to retrieve his stuff. Na Bi doesn’t know Do Hyeok is nearby. Jae Eon makes the calculation in his head and manipulates his way inside Na Bi’s apartment, knowing exactly what it looks like to Do Hyeok. It’s petty revenge for seeing Na Bi and Do Hyeok together on campus from earlier.

This is the gun. And it backfires on Jae Eon big time. Throughout the entire episode, his acts of sincerity towards Na Bi seem genuine and heartfelt, yet his action in that one scene undermines anything he attempts. It doesn’t work; to his mounting frustration, Na Bi and Do Hyeok continue to talk and meet as if nothing happened.

(We know that’s not the case as seen from Do Hyeok’s alone time but I’ll talk about that later in this post.)

It’s a ticking time bomb and it goes off at last in the rain scene. Nothing is working for him. He is desperate not to lose Na Bi. And he goes off in a drunken rage on Na Bi after she returns home on that fateful rainy night.

And he loses her. The gun goes off. Everything sincere he did turns rotten in Na Bi’s eyes after he reveals his actions. Actions have consequences, always rippling forward and affecting change in moments not yet experienced. He ruined his chances because of his petty cruelty towards Do Hyeok in the beginning. His sincerity only extended towards Na Bi and it was only to get her attention once more.

Jae Eon lost. Not so much to Do Hyeok, as he lost to Na Bi, who cares about him deeply. He underestimated her feelings towards Do Hyeok, assuming, like so many other viewers, that he was an an irritating distraction that refused to go away.

He can’t fathom why Do Hyeok still seems to like Na Bi after seeing them enter her apartment together. Is he really that incredible a person? What makes him so special?

Well, let’s talk about it.

Do Hyeok’s Crisis Playbook

We see from Do Hyeok’s time alone after his initial visit to Seoul that he is taking it pretty hard; I can’t really blame him, considering what he saw that night. His struggle is open, honest, and raw; like Na Bi, it affects him to the point that he can’t focus on his work (anyone seem to notice that Jae Eon’s work never seems to be affected by his feelings?).

It’s jealousy and insecurity eating away at him. Just like Jae Eon. He’s also desperate not to lose Na Bi but doesn’t want to do anything untoward or overboard because he’s afraid of ruining their friendship. Once again, his consideration is for Na Bi and how she feels, but he cannot ignore what he saw and how he feels about it.

So, what is our favorite Potato Boy to do? Park Jae Eon already made his move by staging that whole scene of him and Na Bi going into her apartment together. How does Do Hyeok fight back? What’s his playbook in this time of crisis?

He doesn’t fight back. And that’s how he stays in the game. Do Hyeok is not a player like Jae Eon; there isn’t a manipulative or deceptive bone in his body. Do Hyeok does what he always does and doubles down on his sincerity, on the strength of his feelings, and his faith in Na Bi.

Do Hyeok doesn’t play the game Jae Eon tries to involve him in. He always lays it all out on the table with Na Bi so there is no room for misunderstandings. That’s one of the reasons why their relationship works so well; they talk more. Not just about feelings or romance but about school or their day to day life. What they’re building now is something that can last a lifetime.

So he talks to her about it. And admits his jealousy. She wasn’t even aware that he had seen them and yet it sounds like he’s the one who is apologizing (even though he never let his hurt feelings show in his conversations with Na Bi, DO HYEOK YOU ARE TOO GOOD). He lays himself bare to her once more. We don’t see Na Bi’s response other than her shocked and guilty expression, which is annoying because it would definitely be interesting to see how she reciprocated his frankness.

(Underrated super cute scene between them in this episode; when they meet up at night and bring drinks for each other. It’s even the exact same drink. I was grinning like a maniac.)

But Na Bi is familiar with Jae Eon’s game. And when she finds out how badly Do Hyeok was hurt by Jae Eon’s actions (and how he involved her in it) Na Bi finally is snapped to her senses and severs the thread still binding her and Jae Eon together.

Na Bi’s choice isn’t shown as a redemptive or heroic moment. It never was supposed to be. Although I’m sure a lot of us were cheering in that moment, her moments of unrestrained grief alone afterwards are the sobering reality that love, as always, comes with a price.

Nabi’s Choice (The Review)

This is a follow up to my earlier post before episode 9 came out. So, now we see what Na Bi decides and, maybe, how it will all play out in the next episode (barring any last minute twists).

First, let’s address the still ongoing criticism I see regarding Na Bi and Do Hyeok’s relationship: lack of passion, no romantic vibes, blah blah blah. I wrote at length in a previous post why that isn’t true - at least on Do Hyeok’s part (one of the reasons why we don’t get internal monologue from Do Hyeok is because what else is he thinking about other than Na Bi?).

Na Bi, on the other hand, is still ambivalent about her feelings towards Do Hyeok. Episode 9 provided more clarity for her stance towards Jae Eon - he’s the dog shit she stepped on and was promptly wiped away in the grass - but Do Hyeok is still a mystery. Yes, she’s friendly, she cares, and genuinely enjoys being with him but the spice, the passion is missing. And that is kinda important for a romantic relationship.

Well. Look no more. Na Bi has spice for Do a Hyeok and it shows not once, but twice this episode. Where’s the passion? Jae Eon fucked around and found out. Very kind of him. Turns out Na Bi, like all of us who like Do Hyeok, will not tolerate any Do Hyeok slander and I am 100 PERCENT here for it.

There’s a scene shortly before the climatic rain fight where Na Bi is having another meeting with her assistants: the junior (does he have a name? Jin-su?) and Jae Eon. The junior talks to Na Bi about her and Park Jae Eon: the usual tired gossip of whether or not they’re dating. Na Bi waves it away like dandelion fluff.

And then the junior mentions Do Hyeok. “What about the noodle shop guy? Ever since the camp meeting, people have been saying there’s a higher chance you’re dating him.”

And Na Bi just . . . we’ve never seen this from her before, even when she broke up with Jae Eon in episode 5. Her whole demeanor turns ice cold and her voice is wicked sharp as she proceeds to shut down that avenue of questioning. The junior physically leans back from the force of her anger and wonders aloud why she’s so upset (you’re talking about her love life as gossip, idiot, why do you think she’s so upset). Jae Eon walks in and doesn’t see the foreshadowing; he just hears Do Hyeok and it feeds his jealousy.

There it is, everybody. Evidence of Na Bi’s feelings for Do Hyeok and what he means to her. Her protectiveness over him and her refusal to let him be involved in the drama surrounding herself and Jae Eon. Her desire to be the better around him; not because he asks (and he would never) but because his feelings for her make her think she might be worthy of such a love.

And then there’s the rain scene. Na Bi and Jae Eon, vulnerable in the rain. Na Bi admits to her faults in the relationship, how she brought this upon herself. No, she hasn’t been nice or good this whole time; in fact, she’s been kind of terrible. But Jae Eon revealing what he did and how it was to hurt Do Hyeok wakes her up and convinces that the time has come to end this “game”. It got Do Hyeok hurt because of her inability to end it with Jae Eon and good people don’t let that happen to people they care about.

So Na Bi ends it with Jae Eon and chooses herself. At last. And to do so, she has to cut out this malignant tumor of a relationship and, God, does it hurt so much to end it, but she gets it done and takes the first step to being a better person for herself.

The cinematography in this drama is top tier and we see her situation presented so viscerally. She’s alone, in the light, but it’s not a warm, redemptive light; it has a sickly, yellow tint and is surrounded by darkness.

But she’s still there. She still made it.

One Last Observation, I Promise

Last thing I noticed from this episode that I want to talk about: the professor’s critique of Na Bi. She specifically mentions that a good artist can inspire others and Na Bi, whether she realizes it or not, actually does do that.

Na Bi helps Do Hyeok with his videos, giving advice that helps boost their popularity and making them better.

Jae Eon is inspired to make the butterfly bracelet for Na Bi and gifts it to her.

The difference between the two? Do Hyeok actually thanks Na Bi for her help and points out that it was her influence that made his videos better.

Jae Eon obviously means his gesture to be romantic and sincere but he again fails to talk about why he’s doing it. The implication is there but Na Bi needs more than some vague nonsense.

Communication is at the heart of this episode and how, without it, relationships stagnate and fail. Bit Na + Gyu Hyun and Soljiwan couple - their relationships only progress because the couples voice their concerns and fears to one another. And instead of being rejected or being hurt, it allows their partners to reassure them and move forward with their relationship.

Why do Na Bi and Jae Eon fail? They. Don’t. Talk. Na Bi is stuck inside her head and Jae Eon relies on vague gestures and sexual chemistry to express himself.

Why do Na Bi and Do Hyeok succeed? Because they talk. About everything. Their dialogue is clear and honest and sincere without any hidden meanings or motives. And you see why Na Bi is rapidly moving more and more towards Do Hyeok and not Jae Eon.

(The preview does raise some questions about how it will all end but I don’t think the show is going to pull a bait and switch and have Na Bi end up with Jae Eon. I also don’t think it’s likely they’ll have an open ending, either. I’ll talk about that in another post.)

My next post will be what I envision to be the best version of a Na Bi and Do Hyeok endgame and what I mean by that since Na Bi shouldn’t be dating anyone right now. So, look forward to that.

Until next time, everybody. Thanks for reading this long ass post. Hope you enjoyed it.

#jtbc nevertheless #nevertheless #kdrama #han so hee #chae jong hyeop #song kang #yu na bi #yang do hyeok #park jae eon

[hyenahunt]

Conquest: The Fool’s Fruit - 4

Writer: Akira

Season: Spring

Proofreading: royalquintet (JP & ENG)

Translation: hyenahunt & haranami

Nagisa: …Eden has no need for you. You no longer have the right to even sit by our side.

[Location: CosPro Office]

Ibara: Good morning, fellow members of CosPro! Your vice president, Ibara Saegusa, is reporting for duty! Salute~☆

Jun: Heya, 'sup. Thanks for all your hard work this morning.

Ibara: Ah, please don’t stop working on my account! I apologize for disturbing you!

All we young people are good for is having too much energy! We’re still at the age when everything excites us, I suppose you could say?

But more importantly, I’ve brought refreshments!

It appears that we’ll be at the mercy of the midsummer heat today, so I’ve brought along some samples from the ice cream shop I manage—

Jun: Ibara, Ibara—

Ibara: Yes? This isn’t like you, Jun; you’ve repressed practically all your individuality aside from your strange level of politeness. Could you kindly refrain from interrupting my business greeting?

Jun: Business greeting? You literally just dissed me outta nowhere.

...More importantly, take a look at that.

Ibara: Hm? What do you mean by “that”?

W-What?!

Nagisa: ......

Hiyori: ......

Ibara: (whispering) H-Huh? That’s rather odd. His Excellency aside, why is His Highness here?

Jun: (whispering) Don't ask me. I'm not Ohii-san's manager or anything.

Ibara: (whispering) Hmm… I felt that the most effective way to deal with this Conquest issue was to take down His Highness Hiyori.

(whispering) And thus, I had planned on having a strategy meeting with the rest of Eden, excluding him—

So I certainly didn’t expect him to be here! What should we do? Jun! I’ll court-martial you for leaking confidential information!

Jun: (whispering) Goddamn, why're you making it sound like I'm the one who leaked it to him~?

Nagisa: …What have the two of you been whispering about? You’re getting along well, I see?

Ibara: Indeed, Your Excellency! We’re simply two peas in a pod! Why, from the moment I laid my eyes on Jun, I was certain that we’d be the closest of friends—

(whispering in Nagisa’s ear) …Why is His Highness here, pray tell? Did you bring him with you, Your Excellency? You’re throwing a wrench in my plans.

Nagisa: …Yes. It’d seem like we were leaving Hiyori-kun out otherwise, and that’s not very nice.

Ibara: As expected of His Excellency! In contrast to the solemnity he exudes, he’s as benevolent as a cherubic young child!

But at the moment, he’s something of a pain in the ass! Indeed, I wish I could pull his tongue out before he makes any more sound arguments!

Jun: Wouldja please chill out a little, Ibara? You're practically spitting venom right now, y'know~

...We can't do anything 'bout the fact that Ohii-san's here, and it's not like we can just kick his ass out, yeah?

Hiyori: ......

Jun: (Well, Ohii-san looks like he's in an awful mood as always. He didn't even say hi or look this way...)

(What're we supposed to do about this? Just knowing we were gonna have a meeting behind his back would probably piss him off even more, wouldn't it?)

Nagisa: …Hm. Well, it’s fine. Just sit.

Ibara: Er, but... What am I to do?

Nagisa: …Sit. Must I order you to?

Ibara: ... (They both silently sit down)

Nagisa: …Good boys. Now, then, it appears that all the members of Eden have gathered; shall we begin?

Hiyori: Yes. Well, I don't know about Eden, but all members of both Eve and Adam are certainly present.

Jun: (That's how he's gonna start things off!? Savage!)

(Ohii-san, are you so upset about Eden forcing you to do Conquest — something you don't like — that you don't even wanna be in it?!)

Nagisa: …Right, then. Usually, Ibara is the one who facilitates our meetings. But he appears to be in poor shape today, so I’ll take his place.

…I am Eden’s leader both in name and in fact, after all.

Jun: (Woah, and now Nagi-senpai's calmly carrying on without even noticing he totally set him off!? Thanks to him, the mood's gotten tense as shit...!)

(Honestly, I wanna get outta here already~ Is this seriously any time to be talking strategies!?)

Hiyori: Hmm? So you've finally remembered for once that you're the leader of this Eden thing?

You're normally the very model of a convenient little doll, puppeted about by that venomous snake over there, so I'd been wondering if you'd forgotten or just didn't even know, you know?

Nagisa: …I haven’t. I’m quite good at remembering things. Actually, I’m unable to forget anything unless I try my hardest to.

…And, as far as I remember, this is the first time anything like this has ever happened.

Hiyori: Ah, yes. That's right, isn't it? How pointless all this is!

Things are finally going smoothly, with all of us getting along and having fun, and you dare to try and force a wedge between us all — even if it's all just a game of make-believe!

Nagisa: …Who gave you permission to speak, Hiyori Tomoe?

Hiyori: ...!? Nagisa-kun, you'd address me in such a way!?

Nagisa: …Unlike me, it appears that the rest of you aren’t aware of your positions. It’s rather tiresome, but allow me to remind you once more.

…I’ve said this many times, but I — Nagisa Ran — am the leader of Eden. In other words, within the confines of Eden…

…I am God.

Hiyori: ......

Nagisa: …And no one is allowed to speak without God’s permission.

Jun: (whispering) Ibara, Ibara—? Why's Nagi-senpai acting like this? Is he only just now going through his cringe phase?

Ibara: (whispering) How should I know!? It’s true that His Excellency’s sense of self has been developing lately, though; this may actually be the perfect timing for him to go through such a phase…!

(whispering) But it’s also possible that some type of bug infiltrated the cheese we ate yesterday and is now consuming his brain cells, I suppose?!

Nagisa: …Fufu. It’s only natural that you’re feeling perplexed. Up until this moment, I’ve more or less followed your instructions without complaint.

…I believed in you. And I loved you. I had faith that there was no need for me to say anything, as you would guide me well.

…However, it appears that I was wrong.

…Therefore, I — the one who acts as God — must now use the authority I possess to make you move according to my wishes.

…I will reveal the path that we must take in order to overcome this calamity known as Conquest, which has shaken Eden to its core.

…I lament the fact that it must come to this. Could you not even give me the shortest moment of peace and tranquility?

…I’ve truly lost all hope in you.

Ibara: ......

Nagisa: …And that applies to you in particular, Hiyori Tomoe. I’m not merely disappointed in you — you’ve incurred my wrath, as well.

Hiyori: Like I said, don't address me that way—

Nagisa: …With your own two hands, you cast away the honor that is serving God, abandoned your post, and caused our mighty rule to stagnate with your selfish actions.

…You have dishonored us, scorned our worth. And you have greatly displeased me.

…And, thus, you are not fit to be a member of Eden. There is no merit in allowing you to remain within this eternal kingdom overflowing with joy that I — God — govern.

Hiyori: ......

Nagisa: …I’ll put it simply. You’re all fools; it appears that you are unable to understand the words of God as they are.

Hiyori Tomoe. Eden’s Second-in-Command. O one-winged angel who presides over Eve.

…Should you continue to oppose the fate known as Conquest that awaits us, rejecting the commandment that you must follow…

…Eden has no need for you. You no longer have the right to even sit by our side.

Hiyori: ......

Nagisa: …If you do not cease in your hubris — if you choose to continue abandoning your professional duties and acting however you’d please…

…As God, I shall expel you from Eden for all eternity.

✦✦✦✦✦

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#hiyori tomoe #jun sazanami #nagisa ran #ibara saegusa #enstars #ensemble stars #enstars translation #type: event #s: conquest #era: !! #status: complete #hyenahunttl

[hazbincalifornia]

This wasn’t really meant for the flustered meme originally, but I decided to still come out of the woodwork to say this: I really appreciate you and your blog, since you’re open about so many things and you especially don’t shy away from darker topics. I just really admire and appreciate your openness, your writing skills, your AUs and your stories and I’m happy that you share it. I follow you on twitter as well but I’m an infrequent commentator, simply because I’m a very anxious person and idk how to approach you without coming across as strange. I’m still trying to get used to the idea of being open about liking the topics you talk about. It’s taken me years to admit to a close friend that I like mpreg, but god do I like it and I love reading your takes on it (it’s how I found you initially). Sometimes I wish I had more courage to approach you directly but I also understand why you’re careful. So this is my awkward attempt at expressing how I feel about you and your work and I hope it doesn’t weird you out. Hopefully I will finally ease myself into talking more open about the same things you enjoy. For now I’ll just be an anxious fan of mpreg and bottom Blitzo (seriously it feels like you’re the only person I can turn to for good bottom Blitzo content!) Like no lie, but you’re one of the main reasons why I still go on tumblr, I like checking your blog. Thank you for all your work!!

Oh my gosh this is really sweet! (It feels weird to rank this but probably 80-100%, again platonic.) I’ve had a lot of people come to me with a similar story to yours, that they enjoyed it privately but felt like they couldn’t share that love publicly, which was why almost all of the fanart and asks I received at first about my IZ fic were anonymous. It’s sort of like I’m a lightning rod because I’m so loud about liking this stuff so I can direct others to me and show they’re not alone in liking stuff, and I’m glad that through that I can share my joy with others who might not be ready to speak up themselves yet, which is totally okay! I super appreciate just knowing you’re out there, as well as getting likes and anonymous asks!

As for the dark fiction, being able to embrace a fuller spectrum of topics really did help me feel like I’m growing as a writer and am able to tackle making the characters and their relationships more complex and interesting when I’d felt sort of stagnated at times before after writing fic for a decade now. (I genuinely contribute this both to the nsfw IZ fandom in general and also to one specific artist, who I will not mention out of respect for their privacy but who got put through way too much shit for their own purely fictional stuff.)

If you ever do want to chat, feel free to reach out! If you comment sometimes/like stuff I’m sure I’d recognize you, I don’t have that many followers that actively like/reply to posts on either account. Even if not, I hope that someday you do feel more comfortable just having fun creating the art and ideas that you want to- it’s incredibly freeing and often cathartic.

Have a great day/night!

#asks #anonymous

[samsilver975]

Well, this is it boys. My final character analysis. Dream, Techno, and Tommy. I’m pretty sure I’m going to be skirting the word count here. Thank you to all of you who have been reblogging and liking the posts, it means a lot. That being said, because of the characters I’m going to be talking about and the weird split between Techno and Tommy viewers, I want to remind everyone that below are my own opinions and analyses. You are entitled to your own opinion. Well, let’s get this show on the road!

Dream:

One of the best things about the server is that there are no black and white characters. There are no good or evil, but verying degrees of gray. That said, Dream’s pretty close to black; he’s the closest we get to a main villain throughout the story. Dream’s been the underlying antagonist for a while, but I feel he’s taken a bigger role in this season. As far as I can tell, Dream’s got two motives: bringing the server together as one big family with no factions who he definitely doesn’t control, and prolonging the conflict with Tommy. Tommy is entertainment to him. Dream doesn’t want to give up the disks because then the story, Tommy’s story will end. I’m in the camp of beleiveing that if the disks return to Tommy, the plot line will essentially be over. Dream doesn’t want to part with his plaything just yet, but he can’t kill him either. After all, what happy family goes around killing its members? Horrible punishments? No! But emotional manipulation, is fine. That doesn’t just apply to Tommy: Dream manipulated Tubbo, Eret, Techno (to an extent. There’s a favor floating around still) among others. I think, if Tommy wins, Dream will be forced to either find a new plaything (I personally think Tubbo. L’Manburg is kind of Tubbo’s ‘disks’ in a way. Oh, I’m sorry, Snowchester) or he will have to kill Tommy. My speculation for tomorrow is that Tommy and Tubbo will defeat Dream, but Dream will snap and either call on Techno’s favor to in prison Tommy, or will just pull a god thing and kill Tommy outright. But that’s just a theory, a GAM-

Techno:

I’m very much a middle of the road sort of person. I pretty much watched or partially watched everyone’s perspective (from except Phil’s sorry) on Doomsday, and since then I try to catch both Techno’s and Tommy’s when they are streaming. Why do I say this? Well, you’re going to notice that I am not going to make a clear decision on who I support. I’ll try my best to keep these last two as unbiased as possible...

I’ll start by saying that Techno is... strange to me. I can’t tell if I really like his character, or hate it. I’ll begin with the negatives, I think. I don’t like how Techno points to everyone betraying him instantly. Tommy did use him for supplies and shelter and what have you, but something I find people don’t consider is that Techno used Tommy too. Tommy said over and over he wasn’t going to blow up L’Manburg, and time and time again Techno brushed Tommy aside. Techno forced Tommy to choose between a lifelong friend who’d made a mistake and been manipulated, and someone who barely deigned themselves to respect him. I saw people were really surprised by Tommy choosing Tubbo, but... was it all that unexpected. That’s not to say Techno was unjustified. He did extend his hand to Tommy, only for it to be batted away, and maybe he meant well, but he was kind of an ass to Tommy. It wasn’t manipulation like Dream did, but he did use Tommy to help him gather supplies and get into L’Manburg and what have you. I guess the real thing that defines the dislike side of things is that Techno really doesn’t try to see from other’s perspectives. He tends to take a ‘my way or the high way’ approach. Also... I don’t really know how to feel about the syndicate. I can’t tell as of yet if it is truly as open as Techno made it out to be.

Alright, Techno’s good things. A lot of Techno’s actions were justified. I feel like L’Manburg waaaaay overreacted, and Techno’s anger was extremely justified. L’Manburg, for all of its good intentions, was corrupt. It needed to fall. (The builder in me would have just preferred a coup or disbandment or something, not a chunk error, but I guess what happens happens not like you can fix anything now.) I still think Technos story will continue beyond this season. He’s still got people he needs to take down. I don’t think Tommy’s on that list actually. I mean... he didn’t kill him on sight today, and he let Tommy say goodbye so...? Either way, there are still people that need to be taken down. I feel kind of bad for Eret tbh. It’s gonna be a bumpy road for him, even if he means well. Techno also was right to be angry at Tommy. They betrayed each other, in a way. Their alliance was as doomed as L’Manburg.

Tommy:

Our protagonist. Our ‘hero.’

Like Techno, I feel there are good and bad things to be said about Tommy’s character. Unlike Techno, Tommy’s character both changed and didn’t change at the same time. I noticed a lot of people saying that ‘Tommy is so immature,’ or ‘why doesn’t he just give up the disks he didn’t change at all,’ or whatnot. My response to this is: Tommy did not have a chance to develop. He spent the season being tormented by Dream, then dragged into the anarchists where he didn’t really have a say. Why did he ‘betray’ Techno? It was all Tommy knew. He’d been betrayed over and over again himself. Tommy, for so, so long, did not experience any sort of support. Tubbo exiled him, Dream nearly destroyed him, Techno didn’t listen, and Tommy? Tommy didn’t know what to think because not once did anyone care about what he had to say, until it was much too late.

For of all his stagnation though... Tommy did change. And it all comes down to one line. “The disks are more important then you ever were.” I’m that moment, Tommy realized that somewhere in exile, or somewhere in the tundra, he’d lost some sort of humanity. In the same way that Quackity realized how much like Schlatt he was, Tommy realized how blind he’d been by his want of the disks. He was willing to give up his own best friend for material wealth. He betrayed Techno because he realized that Tubbo was more important. Ever since then, Tommy has been a bit more attentive to other people. He apologizes to Tubbo and Connor. He offers IOU’s to people, which doesn’t seem like a big deal, but would old Tommy have done that? But then, why continue to go after the disks? Well, something changed in that motive to. Before, Tommy wanted the disks back because, “The disks were mine and he stole them from me.” He wanted them back because having them stolen was an insult that needed repaying. Now though, I think Tommy wants them back because he truly believes that it would solve conflict. He doesn’t want them back for himself anymore, he wants them back because that’s the only way to achieve peace. Whether that is true or not, I can’t say. I also saw a lot of people wondering ‘why the disks. Why were they so important to him in the first place?’ The disks represent the good old days. When it was just a server playing Minecraft. Before L’Manburg and Techno and Wilbur and hto dog vans and exiles, before everything. That’s why they are so important to him. They represent memories. Peace. Happiness Tommy hasn’t felt since then. It’s why it’s so hard for him to let them go. Letting them go would be letting the memories go; letting the people attached to those memories go. Tommy is trapped in the past. I by no means support the obsession, nor do I find it justifiable... but it is understandable.

Let’s see... I already touched on why Tommy left Techno... so let’s finish off with some interesting things that Tommy has learned. As awful as Dream was to him, Tommy learned somthing very important from him. Sentiment is a weapon and a bargaining chip. He secures Sapnap’s Loyalty by returning Mars, Sapnap’s ‘disks’, an item of sentiment to him. I also think of the pair, Tommy is better equipped to let L’Manburg fade then Tubbo. If Tommy succeeds, I wonder what will happen. And does loosing mean dying. Tommy thinks it does, but loosing to Dream could mean many different things. The battle tomorrow will not be so straightforward as Tommy seems to think. We wait with bated breath. For some dark levity at the end of it all. If Tommy wins, Niki’s gonna off ‘im anyway so...

Thanks for reading! If you made it all the way down here, kudos. I hope you enjoyed. I hope to post more in the future, not only DreamSMP, but other fandoms as well. I’ll see you all later!

#dream smp #tommy mcyt #tommyinnit #techno mcyt #dreamnotfound

[ijustkindalikebooks]

I have had an incredible reading month, with 12 books that are five star reads, which is just, amazing - I'm so proud of what I've read this month and the books I've got to explore by combining reading with listening - my intimidation by big books has really disappeared and made me a much better reader!

I begun keeping a spreadsheet of my books, and I don't know if this is a good thing or bad thing yet, but it's made me realise I need to keep building on the diversity of my books and keep trying new genres so I don't stagnate in my reading - I've always liked to explore and I feel like my genre column isn't very spread!

nonetheless, these are favourite books of April!

Assassination Classroom Volume: 19/20/21 by Yusei Matsui - These are the last three volumes of the series, and oh my god, I was totally emotionally unprepared for this finale. I loved these characters and their development throughout the series and how the author handled the ending was incredibly well done, I have no idea what to read next but I hope it lives up to this.

The Princess Saves Herself In This One by Amanda Lovelace - I feel like the reason for me this one got five stars for me, was how much I could relate to it, this year thanks to books I've had a couple of epiphanies thanks to the books I've read (something maybe I'll share later in the year) and this book is one of them - you may question whether it's poetry, but you can't question its authenticity.

Raybearer by Jordan Ifueko - This book is exquisitely written. I loved the characters, the slow burn romance, the beautiful writing and the setting, oh my god yes. I feel like Raybearer for me, is the new standard bearer for fantasy for me this year and I just loved every moment of it, I need to go and read Redemptor as soon as possible, because you can't leave me like that, book!

King And The Dragonflies by Kacen Callender - Would you like to read a middle grade book that leaves you broken hearted and crying but in a good way? Well, my friends this is the book for you. Beautiful writing with complex and brilliant characters, I want to read everything this author has written. Magnificent and a book no matter the age of the reader you can take something from, I loved this book.

What books did you enjoy this month? I would love to know! Feel free to drop in my inbox or reply to this post!

Vee xo.

#books #booklr #bookblr #book review #book reviews #raybearer #king and the dragonflies #assassination classroom #the princess saved herself in this one #fiction #young adult #fantasy #poetry #manga #contemporary #middle grade #book #reading #reading roundup #April 2021

[hrh-selene-r]

Beyond Words (4/?)

The Big Sweep

Eight years have come and gone, and it seems that everyone has moved on; Hannah has a new life with a Baby upstate, and even Ray found a bit of happiness in his life, but where does that leave Adam? Still in the same apartment with the same problems. Now, feeling adrift in the stagnation he finds himself in, Adam will try to break old habits and  see if he can grow-up. Something easier said than done, that is until he meets you.

This is a bit of a post series/retcon picking up from where Adam’s story left off in Season 6 episode 8 titled “What will we do this time about Adam?”

Adam Sackler x Reader

4.5K Words

Warning: Angst, break up, Depression, cursing.

It’s been a week of secret apartment hunting and script reading for any new possible project, but his efforts finally bear fruit. ‘Fucking Ray. Thank god he came through’ Adam thought as he was one the line of his favorite deli just a few blocks away from his apartment. He shifts anxiously as he rehearses in his mind what he wants to say to Jessa when the moment comes.

It’s been a week of secret apartment hunting and script reading for any new possible project, but his efforts finally bear fruit. ‘Fucking Ray. Thank god he came through’ Adam thought as he was one the line of his favorite deli just a few blocks away from his apartment. He shifts anxiously as he rehearses in his mind what he wants to say to Jessa when the moment comes.

‘Jesus. Fuck’ He fixes his hair fidgeting (well dreading, really) the confrontation to come. Her clinginess hasn’t stopped in the least, wanting to go out together, stay in together, have sex in their old haunts; she’s even been texting him more frequently. It’s not that he didn’t like the attention (or the sex), but Jessa’s always been aloof, and independent. If anything, Adam is the clingy one; things used to be so easy before but this change in dynamic was a bit jarring to him, to say the least.

‘She’s just making things harder’

He was a thousand miles away when he finally sat down, and in true Adam fashion, he doesn’t eat, so much as he scarfs down his meal; six eggs (four of them just the whites), and two slices of turkey bacon. It’s while drinking what’s left of his coffee that his phone alerts him of a new incoming text. Fishing it out of his pocket and saw that he had three texts; two from Luke, letting him know that he got the callback for the Jim Anderson play with the details of where it’s going to be, the other asking if he had finished reading another script that he’d sent him.

‘Yesssssss!!’ He cheered on the inside, holding in his urge to scream it out loud. Finally! At least some things were looking up.

The other text was from Jessa, making fun about one of her classmates, with a rather mean spirited snarky remark.

He scoffs a bit after reading it, her smarmy wit coming through her words. It's moments like these that remind him of their friendship, and their shared chemistry. The thought only served to churn his stomach, bringing to the forefront of his mind what he’ll tell her.

‘ “Look Jessa, I’ve been doing some introspection lately, and I’ve come to the conclusion that we’re better as friends and that I need some time apart” Too formal? No….Shit! “Jessa let’s be real, you would’ve left me in a few months anyway, so I’m doing us both a favor” ..’

“Motherfuck!” He hissed under his breath.

He looked at the time in his phone and got up. He has to get going, not wanting to be late to meet his building manager.

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

The building itself wasn’t too far, it was still in Brooklyn, not like he could afford anything more upscale, and even then, rents in the boroughs were outrageous; gentrification saw to that. But for all the artisanal ice cream boutiques and organic green tea, there’s a charm in Brooklyn that has captured his heart; for now, this was home. This place has seen his loves and loses and has seen him at his worst and at his best.

Adam walks up to the front steps where a woman is sitting on the stoop, seemingly waiting; looking at her phone as she does so. She looks up and sees him in the eye, causing him to look away awkwardly to avoid her thinking he was a creep or something, but her gaze was more curious than anything.

She tilts her head sideways to get a better look at him. “Adam?”

‘Do I know her? Oh fuck, have I fucked her?’ he thinks, his mid going through the roster of girls to see if he knew her from somewhere. “Yeah?” he asked cautiously after his mind came up blank. He doesn’t know her....at least he thinks he doesn’t know her.

“I’m Jaime. I’m the building manager? My dad probably told you about me when he showed you the apartment.” She explains, hopefully jogging his memory, as she gets up to face him.

“You’re Jaime?” He asks, taking a good look at her. Her hair is long and dark up, reaching up to her waist; her body, clothed in oversized jeans and a black tank top, is skinny but not too skinny as to make her look malnourished, her complexion is dark, coupled with deep brown eyes, a wide nose full glossy lips and a beauty mark above her left eyebrow.

“Yeah, were you expecting anyone else?” she smirked haughtily at him, making him to quickly reply out an answer to avoid any embarrassment.

“No! I just thought that I’d be meeting your dad.” he corrects himself and holds out his hand to shake her hand in greeting. She responded in kind, extending her hand to shake his. Her hand was adorned by wide silver rings in her fingers, her nails were decorated with an orange nail polish that was mostly chipped away.

“He got held up, asked me to do it. Legally I can, as the building manager. So, you ready to sign?”

“Uh, Yeah.” he answers her as she gestures for him to follow her, leading him up the stairs to what will be his new apartment.

Climbing three flights of stairs, standing in front of a door marked ‘3A’, Jaime places the key in the lock and opens the door before gesturing for him to go in.

The apartment itself was big, or big for New York standards, at least, It was a one bedroom apartment, complete with a separate living room, the bathroom was down the hallway, and with a small kitchen right next to what could be converted to a small dining room. It suited him. The apartment was eerily reminiscent of the one he lives in now, the most remarkable difference is that the kitchen has a separate countertop for a bar, not to mention that the living room was roomier, with a tall window providing the space with a good amount of natural light.

It was thankfully in his budget, and that’s what mattered to him the most, nevermind the fact that he basically found an affordable apartment with this much space; which to be clear, is nothing short of impossible.

The pair start to walk into the empty living room space. “You’re lucky you were able to snag this place. We haven’t gotten the word out yet, or anything about this place. So you got the exclusive first look.” Jaimie mentions as she walks to the kitchen counter, grabbing the papers and the pen.

Not knowing how to respond to her and him having his own special brand of social skills , Adam just answers with a simple “Yeah.”

“If anything you’re lucky you know Ray, being on the city council makes you meet a lot of people in the community; and stick-in-the-mud Ray knows a lot of people.” She smiles at him.

“Yeah well we’ve been friends for a while, now.” He replies to her with a polite smile back.

“Yeah. Anyway, this is the contract.” Jaime changes the direction of the conversation to the issue at hand, sliding the contract file in his direction with a pen in her hand.

“Sign here, and here….I need initials here.” She directed him as he started to sign the papers, trying to keep up with her quick directions.

Once it was finished, she handed him a stack of papers. “Okay, so this is your copy of the lease, and these are your keys. Heads up.” She dangled the keys before throwing them in his direction for him to catch, moving towards the exit to leave to the privacy of his new place. Stopping at the door, Jaimie looks back to face him as he turns around to face her.

“So you already know my name. Rent’s due on the first. If you need anything, my apartment’s on the first floor; apartment ‘1B’. If you need me but I’m not in, just slip a note under my door. ‘Kay? Any questions?”

“Uh, nope.”

“Then it’s a pleasure to meet you Adam Sackler. Welcome to the building.” With that she gave him a small smirk and waved goodbye, shutting the door behind her on her way out; leaving him alone with his thoughts in his new apartment.

It’s official now, he can’t put it off anymore. He’s following the advice Ray gave him; hell, even Josh said it. Here, in the emptiness of his new space, in the bright white light of day, he finally sees what he’s been avoiding for so long.

He loved her, he cared for her, but was he ever in love with her?

He was just as quick to get back to her as soon as he realized that things with Hannah wouldn't work out. He quickly left Jessa once he found out that Hannah was pregnant and….’I don’t know.’ ‘Maybe I’m with her ‘cause it’s easy...I’m so fucked up!’ Adam furiously scrubbed his face with both hands, breathing deeply and exhaling through his nostrils.

Alone, in the middle of the empty apartment, bathed in the light from the windows, he knew. It was just like that time; he knew what he had to do.

It was time to rip the band-aid off.

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

Later in the day, after doing a few errands he had to do for the new place, Adam was standing outside of his (old?) apartment building. Looking at the window of the apartment, he takes a deep breath, gathering his bravery to face the situation.

He makes the journey up the stairs, and opens the door. The apartment is empty, judging by the hour, Jessa’s probably still in class. Taking advantage of the circumstances, he starts packing up his things; his mind making a list of the things to take with him .

‘My clothes, books. It's a good thing I don’t have a lot of stuff. I can buy food, and I already got a bed taken care of. I’m gonna have to come back for my work out stuff, my weights and the bench at least.’

Little by little Adam starts to take his favorite things, taking his time to consider what to leave behind. A practice he’s by now well-used to.

The front doors opens and in walks Jessa, her hair in a bun, wearing a loose red tee shirt with denim blue high waisted jeans, the bags in her hand suggest she bought something.

“Hey you in?!” Her voice rings through the small apartment, reaching Adam’s ears, causing him to freeze, inwardly flinching in anticipation of what’s to come. ‘Time to face the fucking music. *sigh*’ He moves out of the bedroom and into the kitchen to find her putting things away on the fridge.

“Heeeeeey.”

“I brought some groceries since the fridge was empty.” she told him casually, her head buried inside the refrigerator as she took things from the bag and placed them inside.

“You have a good day?” His stance is awkward, his hands behind his back as he debated on how to best start the conversation; break it to her while hoping to god that she takes it well.

“Not bad, Nancy is a fucking cunt, but that’s just her. Either way…” Jessa approaches him, pulling him for a kiss, smiling as she does so “She’s just irritates me, so...how was your day?” Her hands run through the familiar course of his chest sweetly. A small shrug moved his shoulders nonchalantly as he looked at her. Was this really it? “It was okay, I did a few errands.”

Hearing this her brow furrowed a bit, looking into his eyes as he stared at her. “You did errands, what errands? Didn’t you have an audition?”

“Yeah, look can we talk?” He asks as he nervously fidgets, gesturing for them to sit down on the couch. If there’s something that can be said about Adam is that he’s as subtle as a hammer.

Sitting on the coffee table in front of her, he nervously passes a hand through his hair, trying to find a way to get what he needed to say out. Jessa looked at him curiously, waiting for him to talk but finding herself growing impatient as the seconds passed.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” She urges calmly.

Adam’s forehead wrinkled in concentration, both of his hands pressed against his face as his fingers covered his eyes. “This isn’t something that I wanna have to tell you. I know this isn’t fair to you, especially after the whole thing with Hannah.”

“I’ve been doing some introspection, or whatever, and um...I’ve been going to meetings…”

“You’ve been going to meetings?” She interrupted, concern etched on her her face as her brows lifted before furrowing in thought.

“Yeah.”

“Well. Have you been drinking?”

“No!” He answered urgently. “I just…” Adam’s lips tense into an outstretched line for a brief moment while he finds a way to verbalize his thoughts.

“I’ve been going to meetings and taking time to think….And…” A few seconds pass. “Fuck” he whispered under his breath in a sigh. “And I’ve come to the conclusion that I; that WE..need time apart.” His eyes searched hers for any indication of understanding or sympathy, but they found nothing. Her gaze was blank as she was deep in thought as he spoke. “ Look, this has nothing to do with Hannah. Whatever she and I had. It’s over, it’s finished.” His baritone voice is soft and calm as he tries to sound as serious as possible. In his mind he is an adult trying to have a serious conversation with his partner. Gone is the lovable boyish demeanor he usually carried; replaced with a grim faced man as he leans over to look at her. His elbows rest on his knees and clasps his hands together, giving away his anxiety.

“I never told you how sorry I am for that...and I hurt you. It’s just that, I don’t know if it was filming the movie or if it was just life in fuckin’ general, but I was reminded of what Hannah and I had. I felt it, so I felt that there was too much history there to not try and set things right. To help her, and be there for her.” The sound of his voice reverberated through the small apartment as he looked at the floor. “ But we’re too different now and want different things. And...Now I feel like I need some space to figure shit out alone. Not just for me, because I really do care about you, Jessa.”

Jessa looks at the ground in silence, not wanting to look at him in the eyes and see her worst nightmare.

“I’m gonna be moving out, take the time to focus on my life. You can stay here, keep most of the stuff. I’ll still pay for your classes. I meant what I said.”

Jessa nods slowly, pursing her lips while processing his words.

“Okay...if that’s how you feel.” Her tone is a bit above a whisper, feigning understanding in her short words. She shrugs her shoulders and crosses her legs on the couch with a nonchalant expression. Like everything else, nothing fazes her.

Adam scoffs at her response, unable to believe how she can be so calm while he was essentially breaking up with her. No, he saw what this was. “ Oh, come the fuck on Jessa, this is just like last time. Do you seriously not give a fuck? I know you feel something. Get angry; hit me, throw something at me. For fuck’s sake, it isn’t good to bottle everything in...Just tell me how you feel.”

A deep sigh went through her nose, her eyes showed that something was beneath the surface as she shakes her head slightly and looks at him. “What do you want me to say? You haven’t done anything wrong. You’re communicating; and if this is how you feel, then there’s no point in fighting against it.”

‘Un-fucking-believable.’ Adam moves his left hand towards his cheek, lightly scratching at the hairs in his stubble. “That doesn’t mean that you’re not feeling anything; that your feelings aren’t valid.” He lets out a breath of frustration as he realizes that she put up her walls to him and she won’t budge. ‘The hitting and screaming would’ve been better.’ “Fine.”

Keeping with her attitude, Jessa clicks her tongue and leans back lazily before asking the dreaded question. “So when do you move out.”

“I was thinking about leaving today.”

“Oh...so you have a place to stay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. My stuff’s mostly packed, and I’ll come back for the rest later...But I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“Adam, stop worrying! You’ve done nothing wrong. If you feel you have to do this; you gotta do what you gotta do.” A sardonic smile graces her face. She makes everything sound so simple; black and white.

He gently grabs her tattooed wrist in his large hand and looks deeply into her green eyes, trying to find a way to get through to her, to really talk to her.

“Hey..I still care about you. okay?” He told her gently, almost as if she were a child.

“Yeah.” Her response was short and curt.

Her walls remain up; impenetrable in their might as she refuses to show him, to show the world an ounce of vulnerability. A defense mechanism that took years in perfecting. An aloof facade she shows the world.

Jessa moves to get up, leaving him alone. Adam’s well aware that this was just a front, Jessa hasn’t changed,. He couldn’t tell how bad it was, but he’s doing this for her too. He knew it’d be worse if he stayed.

No other words were said as she sat crossed legged in their bed, smoking a cigarette while he finished packing. In the back of her mind she wonders if this is what being in a relationship is really like; being off and on, having that person come in and out of your life….It’s what her father did. ‘No’ She knows that’s not true. She’s seen people get married, have families and be happy. And besides, Adam’s not remotely like her father, he’s not like the previous men in her life. He’s different.

She moves to the kitchen, pouring herself a glass or orange juice, pretending that nothing is wrong, desperately trying to ignore his presence. She found it unbearable to watch as he left her for a second time. This time she’s more aware of her feelings for him, and she dreads what will become of them, of her while watching Adam go in and out of the apartment; getting his things downstairs.

He tried to be as quick as possible; throwing this mindlessly into garbage bags, making sure he took only what was important to him.

The hardest part about breaking up is trying to leave and stay on good terms. And he’s attempting to do just that. He figured that if he could do it with Hannah, maybe it was possible with Jessa.

Adam reached into his pocket and fished out his keys, he placed them on the counter beside the sink.

“You take care of yourself, okay?” He said awkwardly, looking at her one last time. His mouth is etched in a pout and his eyes are sullen at her lack of reply, but he still waits a few seconds for her, almost as if he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. She didn’t say anything, she didn’t even look at him as he made his way out of the apartment.

Closing the door behind him, Adam takes a moment to just stand there, his mouth still set in a pout, his brows furrowed as he feels the weight of what’s happened.

Both lovers stand on either side of the closed door, each hoping that the other would take a step forward to open the door; to go back to the other, but neither one does. Adam stays there, feeling the guilt over what he’s done slowly spread; lamenting not just the loss of his lover, but the loss of his best friend.

‘It had to be done. There’s no point in staying anymore.’

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

Inside of the apartment, Jessa just stood there, staring at the door; willing him to come back to her. Her face morphs from boredom to one of pure heartbreak. Her eyes start to water as her breathing changes to an erratic pace.

In the cold emptiness surrounding her, she couldn’t pretend anymore. Her mask vanishes, revealing the abandoned girl underneath, watching as her friend walked out of their home and her life.

This time she can’t pretend that it doesn’t hurt; can’t deny the devastation she feels as her world blurs. She places the palm of her hands over her eyes as the tears overflow.

‘He’s done this before, and he came back; he’ll do it again.’ She reasons in her desperation, clinging to the idea that Adam will be back, that this is just a pattern. Because the alternative would be to accept that he left her for good.

‘Fucking Hannah!’ As she cries her thoughts become more chaotic. ‘Don’t go. Don’t do this to me.’ Her inner voice cries as she slides slowly towards the floor, bringing her knees towards her chest.

‘This is just how he is.’ She reasoned, still expecting him to come back, her mind repeating his last words over and over. He did say he cared about her, he still loved her; but as she continued to reason his return, a small part of her feared she was just clinging to an empty promise, that she was stupidly holding on to hope...and that he really did leave her.

The silence inside the apartment is maddening, the space is cold; isolated from the world filled only with her small cries.

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

He should be used to moving, considering how often he did in the past eight years, but no, it was always a bitch. And the worst part about it? Doing it because of a break up. To say that it was awkward was an understatement, but he needed to end things well off with Jessa. God knows he’s ran into people from his past before enough times to know better. New York may be populated by millions of people, but it can turn into a very small place, when Karma feels like it. It’d be worse if he didn’t do it this way, he’s sure of it.

After getting the last of his things upstairs, he starts unpacking bit by bit. He doesn’t have a refrigerator yet, or a bed for that matter; those come in tomorrow, but Adam has been through worse, and one day without furniture hardly phases him. That being said sleeping on the floor isn’t something he’s looking forward to. Plus, this is what friends are for isn’t it? ...to crash on their couch when needed?

Adam takes his phone out, scrolling through the few contacts saved in it. He could ask Ray; it wouldn’t be the first time he’d stay at his place, especially after a breakup. He could also ask Josh, he had offered his couch to let him crash before; maybe the offer’s still on the table.

‘Screw it.’

He hits on Josh’s contact and places the device next to his ear, waiting for a response on the other side of the line.

“Hey.” Josh’s deep voice sounds through the phone’s speaker.

“ Heeeey...listen, I got a favor to ask, if it’s not too much trouble, or whatever.” Adam started nervously, scratching his head as he talked.

“Yeah, man. Shoot.”

“I broke up with Jessa.” He blurted out. “I moved out.”

There was a slight silence on the line before Josh responded. “Well, shit. Do you need a place to stay? Until you find something?”

“I already got a place. I just need a place to crash until I can get the bed and fridge brought in here.”

“ Well you’re in luck, then. I’m actually on my way back from work. I gotta stop to pick up a few things and then I’m headed home.” Josh explained in his easy-going tone; like nothing bothers him at the moment. “ I’ll let Vanessa know; she’s coming over tonight.”

Adam hesitated “ I don’t wanna shit on your plans.”

“ Oh, fuck off. You’re not. Dude, trust me, Ness loves you. She’d be pissed if I didn’t help out. My sofa es su casa.”

Even though Josh can’t see him, Adam smiles at his friend’s words; his teeth peeking out from his lips and the corners of his eyes wrinkle as he does so. “ Yeah, okay. Just let me know when you’re at home. Text me or whatever.”

“You got it. Tonight we’re eating homemade Mexican food.”

“Yeah, Thanks.”

“Alright, see ya.”

With that, Adam hung up, comforted in the knowledge that he’ll be able to sleep in a comfortable, and most importantly cushioned, tonight. At least now he had a place to call his, and by pure stroke of luck, the apartment’s rent wasn’t as high as it could be. He’ll furnish it, little by little. He lives in New York, so someone’s bound to not want a couch somewhere. That leaves the matter of his kitchen. He’d have to buy glasses, plates and food, to at least have the very basics.

‘A bookshelf in the living room. I’ll put my bench in the bedroom...clothes go in the closet, I gotta get a chest or something with drawers..’

He turns to pick up the trash bags storing his clothes, taking them through the small hallway towards his bedroom closet. He’d have to do laundry before the end of the week, he reminded himself as he realized that he was in such a rush to pack everything that he didn’t think that some of his shirts in the bag used to be strewn across the floor of the apartment and stank of sweat.

He spent the next few hours doing what he can, organizing his clothes between what’s clean and what was to be laundered, he took his time to make sure everything was arranged to his liking; a far cry from how he was living 8 years ago. Back when he was an aimless mess living in an apartment cluttered with tools and random pieces of reclaimed wood; when he would rather fuck around with no strings attached than be emotionally vulnerable with someone.

To Adam, it seemed like a lifetime ago. Gone was the aloof fuckboy with an awkward haircut and no direction. Now in his place stands a more empathetic and responsible man.

His thoughts were interrupted as he heard his phone come to life, sounding an alert to let him know he had just received a text and prompting him to look for it. Reaching for his back pocket, he fishes out his phone to see a message from Josh came in saying ‘Just got in.’ on the lit up screen. He’d finish unpacking later; now he was hungry, and Mexican seemed like just the thing…

——————————————————

Hey guys, I’m baaaaack!!!! :D

2020 has been a hell of a year, but I still wanted to end it on a good note. So here we have a short but sweet chapter where Adam wants to leave Jessa to focus on himself, but he knows how fragile and lonely she can be and tries to do it gently....Does it work? We'll have to find out. Safe to say, Jessa will be a reoccurring guest star on this show, so we’ll see how Adam handles this and how he manages to move on. So, leave a comment and let me know what y’all think.

Mucho Love and and a happy New year!!😊

Xoxo Selene R

Tag list for some friends (let me know if you’d like to be added) 

@kowalskibro-adamdriverblog @tsarinastorm @alexdaleks @thrivingamidstchaos @klauscarolove @misskitred @ah-callie @sarcasticbitch @jynz-andtonic @oh-adam @commanderbensolo @kylos-wren @adamsnackler @patersonn-kylo @adamsnacc-kler @ellelaconiwrites @that-only-exists-in-my-mind @ktellmeastory @fallinallinmendes @noocturnalchild

#Beyond Words #adam sackler #girls hbo #adam sackler fanfiction #adam sackler x reader #adam sackler/reader #adam sackler/you #adam sackler x you #reader insert #adam/jessa #adam/reader #adam driver #readerchan #fem reader #fix it fic #fix it #girls fanfiction #retcon #post series

[bibliocratic]

For @babtest, who asked for the prompt: Martin showing normal, genuine human anger.

Jon/Martin, set in a nebulous post-160 AU. Cws in the tags. 

“And if you want me to call – ”

“I know, I'll send a message.”

“And if you don't feel safe, or you want out of there, there doesn't have to be a reason – ”

“Jon.”

“I'll have the phone on me in case – ”

“Jon,” Martin snaps, and his voice is saw-toothed, edged with an irritation that serves as a defensive carapace to his nerves. “It's – it's fine, he's probably not going to be there anyway, this whole thing is going to be a waste, s-so would you please stop fussing, for – ” He releases a grunt of annoyance but tries to muster some calm, breathing with heavy huffing sounds. “I just need... this bloody Christ, this tie – ”

Martin's made a knot-eyed strangle-hold mess of it in his rush, and he tugs angrily at it, making it worse.

“Do you want me to – ?”

“No, I don't! Would you just let me do it! God forbid I be able to do it myself.”

Martin's voice raises to a shout that dips into a hollow of passive aggressive sniping. Jon stills, steps back from where he's been moving into Martin's space and crowding him, and tries not too feel too hurt, pushes down the knee-jerk cutting responses that will neither be helpful or deserved.

Martin tussles with the tie for a few more vicious seconds, his smart shirt having been tucked, untucked and re-tucked again and taking on a rumpled, disturbed pattern. He finally breathes out again, a heavy, weighted breath, closing his eyes. He takes a few calculated, noticeably deeper inhales and exhales that Jon recognises as the deep breathing his therapist taught him. Jon lets him tide through it.

“I'm sorry for snapping,” Martin says lowly, roughly. “I didn't mean – I'm not handling this very well. That's no reason to take it out on you.”

“Considering how many times I was short with you, you probably still have a surplus until we're even close to equal,” Jon replies, trying for levity. Martin wrings the abused tie miserably in his hands, and Jon wishes that this was easier, that this wasn't drawing out all of Martin's embedded poisons, his anxieties he's long laboured to conquer.

“Can you – Will you help? With the tie?” Martin says in a smaller voice, and Jon takes a step into Martin's unhappy orbit, and removes it gently from his hands.

“Of course,” he replies. “If you want to wear it. But you – Martin, you look good without it. And you hate ties.”

The last time he'd worn one was at his mum's funeral, Jon both knows and Knows. He hadn't been able to tie it then either.

“I want – ” Martin says, looking frustrated when the words don't come as easily as he desires. “It looks professional, yeah? Smart? I don't want to look – do I look like I'm, I dunno, trying too hard? It's – huh – it's only a cafe, right, not the bloody Ritz or something – will it, do you think it'll look too desperate?”

Jon touches Martin's arm with his hand. Martin's fidgeting with his shirt sleeves, the buttons at the cuffs, keeps tugging them down like he's worried they're not long enough. He twists and twists and twists his wedding ring and bleeds out nerves like a weather front stagnating in fog, and Jon selfishly wants him to cancel.

“You'll look fine,” he replies. “Smart, and put-together. And I'll think you look handsome, but that's by the by.” That coaxes Martin's lips to twitch. “But you don't... you don't have to wear it, if it's going to... if you're uncomfortable in it. Especially if you think not wearing it will make him disapprove or some nonsense.”

Martin huffs a sound that's the verbal equivalent of a long-suffering eye-roll.

“Spooky mind-reader strikes again, huh.”

“Fear my psychic powers,” Jon dead-pans, and Martin chuffs another one of those aborted half-laughs. Then, quieter, softer. “Want me to help with it?”

“I – I think I'll leave it,” Martin responds finally, with a nod to himself. “It's a Costa anyway, I'm just going to look like a hipster anyway in this shirt.”

“It's that and the beard,” Jon agrees, rubbing his hand at the thick scratchy weave of it until Martin bats his hand away with a 'get off you'. “Do you need your umbrella?”

“ 's only ten minutes down the road, should be alright.”

“You get caught in a downpour, it's your own fault.”

Martin's lips do actually quirk in a smile then, finding the grooves of their light-hearted bickering as a comforting oft-replayed melody.

“Your compassion  never ceases to astound me.”

“You didn't have to marry me.”

“Not like any one else was going to do the job.”

“How noble and public-spirited of you.”

Jon kisses Martin's lips briefly, raising himself up on socked tip-toes. Martin's hand slots into his, faintly trembling.

“Whatever you decide, I'll support your decision,” he says in the tight woven space of their bodies. “Even if this isn't what you want, or even if it is.”

Martin nods, and returns a dry, bristly kiss in return before he heads out.

It starts spitting with rain not a minute later.

-

Jon has not been blessed with an abundance of patience. Martin's meeting is at half two, but he checks his phone at obsessive intervals, watching the screen lighten and the clock on analogue mode work through the grinding seconds. In case Martin's changed his mind. In case he wants out, doesn't want to do this. In case he was stood up, or is sat alone because there was some problem with traffic, or, or, or.

Jon, half-heartedly, tries a great number of things to distract himself, and to avoid any instances of Knowing. After an hour, he's given channel-hopping a go – watching five minutes of a mid-afternoon western, and then ten minutes of a reality show about buying houses on the coast and renovating them. (Martin loves these types of programmes, and in the spirit of them is trying to doggedly renovate the front hall. Meaning that any time Jon wants to go to the front door, he has to pick his way over old blankets thrown down to protect the flooring from paint drips, Martin's small forest of tester pots and paint pots and drying brushes).

Martin's got a window seat – the window misted with condenseness, some child has imprinted a pudgy hand as a calling card – has ordered a mocha – over-sugared, tacky in his mouth, he regrets the choice immediately –

SHUT UP, Jon fumes at himself, and tries to read, manages a few pages before he's struck with the frisson of Martin's spiking anxiety every time the ding of the cafe door pipes up, and stomps into the kitchen to occupy his mind by making himself an unappetizing lunch that he doesn't even want to eat.

His phone remains silent. Jon fights the powerful urge to send a brief check-up message, a little everything going ok? but stops himself. Martin's going to have enough on his plate.

Jon frets and waits for him to come home.

–

There's the plaintive squeak of the front gate (Martin will need to oil it again), and Jon sits up from where he's been petting the cat and poorly playing one of Martin's hand-held console games. He's been on the same level for about an hour now, and stubbornness is preventing him from giving it up as a lost cause.

The pad of two footsteps.

“You've – the flowers are nice. That you've got growing.”

“Thanks. It's not really – it's more Jon than me.  He's pretty green-fingered.” The footsteps peter out. “So – er, well, this is me, heh. Close by.”

“Time really flew, huh.”

“Yeah. T-thanks for the, thanks for the coffee – ”

“Don't mention – ”

“ – and for the walk back – ”

“ – You can keep the umbrella, if you  – ”

“N-no, it's, it's fine.”

The conversation stalls and splutters like an engine with the wrong fuel. Jon's moved out into the hallway, the cat restless but demanding in his arms, and sees the blurred bulk of Martin's stiff shoulders in the frosted glass pane of their front door, set high like he's shoved his hands into his pockets.

Jon skirts around the paint pots to get nearer.

“So,” the other voice – and it's so similar, strikes the same gulleys and furrows, the stop-and-start of thoughts eking their way out into expression, and it wrong-foots Jon to hear it, the ill-matching echo of it. “I – I'll see you again? If you, that is – I really liked... It was good. To catch up, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Martin says, and he sounds wrung out, straining on some mental rack he's internalised. “It was. Yeah. It was good to see you.”

“You want to do coffee again, sometime?”

“I – er. Maybe. Maybe.”

The first fuzz of hurt creeps to moss over the over-eager nervousness of the other voice. “Oh. Er, yeah. S-sure. That's... it's not a problem. Why, why maybe?”

Martin's hackles go up defensively. “I'm not sure, alright?”

“Was everything ok?”

“I guess relatively?”

“What's that mean?”

“Relatively as in, it's been thirty years, there's a few things to iron out after all that. Hence the, y'know, the maybe.”

“Right,” comes the response. “I am – you know I am trying here.”

Martin's voice goes low and flat and judgemental.

“And how long until you lose interest this time?”

There's a punch of silence. The cat buts against Jon's chin. Through the vague blurring of the glass, Martin shifts in that way of his, when he says something he wishes he hasn't, but he makes no move to take it back.

Half beseeching, half reproachful: “That's not fair, Marty.”

It was the wrong thing to say.

“It's Martin,” Martin replies, blistering with something bubbling to the forefront. “It's Martin, not Marty. I'm not – I'm not a child any more, so you can just – just drop that.” He scoffs a breath, and it's hard and hurt and deliberate. “And no, it wasn't fair. But neither was you leaving. So guess we're equal.”

“I – I tried to explain,” the other man starts, a heat of his own starting to shade indignant.

“And it was bollocks – ”

“It's the truth!”

“It wasn't good enough!”

“Your mother, she was – ”

“She was ill! She was sick and you knew, you knew she was just going to get sicker, and so you cut your losses and you legged it.”

“It wasn't like that – ”

“I was eight!” Martin snarls, and there's no pausing in his words any more, no careful consideration, it's a scatter-gun of words he's had secured in his chest for a long time now. “What the fuck sort of parent leaves an eight year old in that sort of house, with that sort of responsibility? What the hell kind of a life did you think I'd have?!”

“She had – you had aunts and uncles! They were, nearby, they were always cluttering up the house, popping round. I thought – I thought if, when she got really bad, they'd take you in!”

“She cut everyone out! What a stupid – you knew her! She hated anything that felt like pity, she was proud and she didn't want anyone to see her as she got worse. You think she'd have accepted someone implying she couldn't care for her son? No.  And eventually it was – it was only us, and you know what, she hated me for it. Because I looked so much like you! Because everything I did, everything I ever did was just a reminder of how much she hated you for leaving.”

“I didn't – ” The response is regret-mired, apologetic, but Martin doesn't want to hear it. “I couldn't have known that...”

“No,” Martin replies, his voice all venom and hurt. “But it's not like you checked, did you? Pop in, see how I was doing.  A visit o-or a letter in the post, o-or something! Christ, you didn't even come to the bloody funeral!”

“I.. No one told me! I found out she'd... she'd passed about a month back. I swear, Marty – Martin, sorry. I swear, I didn't know.”

“And now here you are.”

“I wanted to – I wanted to make amends! To be a better, a better father to you.”

“I'm nearly forty, dad,” Martin snipes unkindly, his throat thick. “What makes you think I need you now?” He sniffs, his words damper than he'd like. “Thirty years is a long time to wait to try and play happy families again.”

“Martin, I. Look, I had a lot of problems. Back then. For a long time. I'm not saying them as an excuse – ”

“Then don't say them,” Martin cuts him off. “I don't – I don't want to hear them. I... just. Don't.”

The conversation dies abruptly. There's a horrible, terminal sort of quiet to it.

“I'm going to go,” Martin says, his tone sanded down to quiet exhaustion. “I've got – Jon'll be waiting and I – I can't do this any more.”

“Right,” Kenneth Blackwood replies with an equal tone. “I'm staying, I'm nearby if you want to – I hope to see you again, Martin.”

Martin doesn't reply. Jon has enough warning of the looming shadow in the door to skitter back as Martin uses his key to twist the lock open.

His face is ruddy, splotchy with patches of red. His eyes wet.

“Guess you heard some of that, yeah?” he bites out bitterly on seeing Jon, tugging off his coat.

“Some,” Jon admits honestly, and Martin shakes his head like he's trying to knock something loose, throws his coat over the banister head, pulling off his scarf and balling it up and chucking it in the corner by the door like it's wronged him.

“What a fucking – It was a mistake, I knew I knew it was a bad idea, me and my stupid bloody – playing the bleeding heart idiot again as per fucking usual.”

“Did it, did go badly?” Jon asks, putting the cat down and skirting the edges of Martin's return, watching him pull off his shoes unlaced and slam them into the shoe pile into the corner.

“Absolutely fabulous!” he responds with a false bitter cheer that tinges yellowed and sick. He's not calming down. His hand threading through his hair, his face continuing to redden with an angry heat, eyes welling up. “He's so bloody sincere and apologetic and what the – what am I supposed to do with that now? Where were all his sorries then, where was he when I wanted to hear them?”

Martin plows on, clearly not wanting answers.

“A-and he was so interested, wanted to see our wedding pictures, and kept asking so so many questions like it was a job interview or something – what are you doing? What do you like doing? What are your hobbies? How long have you and Jon been together? – a-and, like, I couldn't help thinking that it's none of his – he wasn't there, he doesn't get to be all friendly like he didn't just walk out. And! And then!” Martin's voice rises to a furious damp crest, throwing his hands about. “Then he wants to share! He had pictures on him and his new wife and new kids – a-and mum, she always, she always said he hadn't wanted a family, hadn't wanted to be a dad, didn't want the responsibility that'd fall on him when she got sick. But he was so happy! So I don't – what am I meant to think of that? I don't know, I mean, was it lies she told me, how much was the truth, and how much did she twist like she did everything else?”

 Martin sniffs loudly. “He got married a year after he left mum, and they're still together. His other kids are finishing uni or they've got cushy jobs in the financial district, and h-he was showing me and he sounded so... god, he was so proud of them.” Martin wipes at his eyes. “S-so that's, that's just great.”

“Martin...” Jon starts, despairing, listening to the croak in his voice, the way it keeps catching, the hitching jagged rise of his breathing.

“No. No, don't you get it, it's clear as fucking crystal. Because he wanted a family, yeah, he wanted kids he could dote on and take to the park and play football with. He just didn't want me, did he? And what the hell was s-so wrong with me?! I wasn't – I wasn't a bad kid, I was quiet and I kept out of trouble, and there's no, no reason he couldn't have taken me with him when he left. S-so what was so wrong with me?” Martin's shoulders are starting to shake. “Why – why wasn't I enough for him?”

Jon surges in as Martin bursts into angry bitter tears. Sobbing into Jon's jumper, fisting his hands into the hem of it, repeating snatches of recrimination and confusion over and over. Jon tries to tell him that he's enough, that he's always been enough, that he's so so loved, but Martin can't hear over his own hitching breaths, the sea swell of his grief.

Jon just holds him and waits for the tide to go out.

–

The doorbell rings around nine o'clock, and Jon Knows who's at the door.

Martin stirs under the twisted covers with a questioning noise, but Jon shushes him.

“It's the postman,” he lies. “I'll get it.”

Martin hums.

“Put the kettle on?” he asks sleepily, as though he won't be back snoring in a minute. Jon promises he will regardless, manoeuvring himself out of the heat-packed bed and Martin's loose grip, slipping on his slippers and a shirt.

He opens the door with his most imperious of gazes already set on his face.

Martin is there. Or, a man uncanny in resemblance. He shifts his weight from foot to foot like Martin does, has the same nervous twitch in the flutter of his hands. His skin is more weathered, maybe, has built up a collection of lines Martin hasn't sourced out just yet, a further progression to the receding hairline that's beginning to retreat back at Martin's temples.

“I – um, is Martin in?”

“Yes.”

“Can – would I be able to – ?”

“No,” Jon replies. “He's still asleep.”

It's taken for the denial it's meant to be. Kenneth Blackwood makes an 'oh, right' with the same ringing nervous cast to his movements that Martin had when he first came to the Archives.

“It's...” he starts tentatively, and politely does not have his gaze stray too long on the scars on his hand, his face, his throat.  “It's Jon, isn't it?”

“Jonathan Blackwood,” he responds, feeling the odd need to stake the territory here. “I'm Martin's husband.”

“Oh!” Kenneth replies, a little surprised “That's... that's good. I didn't know you took his name when you got.... That's... that's great.”

“It's a good name,” Jon responds, and his father gives a sad, crooked look.

“Not sure Martin would agree with you.”

“It's not my place to comment,” Jon counters, and Kenneth nods and replies with a: “Yeah. No, no, you're right.”

The cat has come up to the door out of curiosity and nudges at the back of his legs before deciding to stay indoors. Jon clears his throat, feeling the nip of early morning under the thin cotton of his nightwear.

“I wanted to – ” Kenneth Blackwood starts. “I wanted to apologise. I didn't keep a cool head yesterday, and he – he deserved my honesty, not my defensiveness.”

Jon gives nothing else, and Kenneth Blackwood continues, clearly grateful for the conversational opening.

“Look, I'm – I have to head back today. I live up near Preston these days. But I hoped – Can I leave my number? I know I shouldn't have pushed so hard. It was a lot to expect. He doesn't...” He makes a half-sigh. “Martin doesn't have to call. I won't contact him again, if that's what he wants. I just – I'm there. If he wants to give me the chance to get to know him again. But if he doesn't.... I understand.”

Jon takes the piece of card offered.

“I'll give it to him,” he says, firmly but not unkindly, and then gives a nod. “Drive back safe, Mr Blackwood.”

He takes it for the dismissal it is meant to be, and he returns the nod. Shoves his hands in his pockets to stave off the chill of the morning as he leaves.

Jon closes the front door with an unobtrusive click, pockets the card he was given. Pauses for a moment, listening to the lull of the house, the rumble of snoring upstairs. Then he makes his way past pots and paintbrushes into the kitchen to make Martin a cup of tea.

#the magnus archives #martin blackwood #fic #prompt #cw parental abandonment #cw emotional abuse #cw intense emotional outbursts #cw poor parent-child relationships #jonmartin #angst #some domestic fluff #this is kinda heavy so if you want me to add more tags #please tell me #i wasn't sure how to word them

[percyisawitch]

Lammas and Imbolc!!

Lughnassad, also known as Lammas, is celebrated every August first; so in three days of me posting this. But, if you live in the southern hemisphere; it’s three days until Imbolc(Feb 1-Feb 2). In this post; I’ll be going over how to celebrate both of them, so don’t worry!!

Before we begin, I’ll be giving a little history of each holiday; how it came to be, and whatever else I find noteworthy! And I’ll be starting off with the southern hemisphere’s Imbolc!!

Imbolc is a pagan holiday celebrated from February 1 through sundown February 2. Based on a Celtic tradition, Imbolc was meant to mark the halfway point between winter solstice and the spring equinox in Neolithic Ireland and Scotland. The holiday is celebrated by Wiccans and other practitioners of neopagan or pagan-influenced religions. Imbolc is just one of several pre-Christian holidays highlighting some aspects of winter and sunlight, and heralding the change of seasons.

The celebration of Imbolc dates back to the pre-Christian era in the British Isles.

The earliest mentions of Imbolc in Irish literature date back to the 10th century. Poetry from that time relates the holiday to ewe’s milk, with the implication of purification.

It’s been speculated that this stems from the breeding cycle of sheep and the beginning of lactation. The holiday was traditionally aligned with the first day of spring and the idea of rebirth.

How to Celebrate: SIX DIFFERENT WAYS!!

Research the Goddess Brigid: Cows’ udders begin to engorge with milk at this time of year, ready for the first births of spring. Imbolc is an important date in the agricultural year, when farmers would prepare their fields for the first sowings and fishermen would return to the sea. It is a celebration of the Celtic Goddess Brigid, and many of the traditions of Imbolc are linked to her magic as Goddess of fire, blacksmiths, wells, healing waters, springs and poets. She is also linked to motherhood, fertility and abundance.

Make a Brigid Straw Doll: One way to bring the magic of Brigid into your homes at Imbolc is to make a Brideog (pronounced Bree-jog). This was traditionally undertaken by the men in the home and the little Brideogs were hung over the doors of people’s homes. Brideogs are made with straw or rushes twisted into the shape of a doll, wrapped in white fabric to represent a little dress and decorated with the first flowers, greenery from the garden, and other pretty things you find in nature.

Make a Brigid Cross: Brigid crosses were also made at this time of year and may be familiar if you had a country childhood. Straw which has been soaked overnight is woven around a frame made of sticks. For younger kids you might want to use pipe cleaners. There are many different styles, some with three or four arms, Googling Brigid crosses comes up with various ideas for your family. Hang your Brigid cross wherever you like in your home, but the childrens’ were usually hung over their bed. It was believed that a Brigid cross tucked under the mattress helped aid conception, and they were used to bless seed before planting in spring.

Feasts and Fires: Another Imbolc tradition, as with many Celtic celebrations, is the lighting of fires. Fires celebrated not only the Fire Goddess Brigid, but also recognised the returning power of the sun. In the Christian calendar, Imbolc is known as Candlemas, when candles are lit for Virgin Mary. Lighting a fire is a good opportunity to gather with friends and family, and reflect, share and laugh together. Imbolc was also a time of feasting so you might want to make some food you can cook in the fire, and toast some marshmallows!

Spring clean your home: Now is the perfect time for a good spring clean of your home, usually undertaken before Imbolc Eve. Get rid of anything that is cluttering up your home and stagnating the energy, and scrub all the surfaces down thoroughly. If you can bear the cold, open all the windows and let some refreshing clean air flow through your home. Making it into preparation for a celebration is also a great way to tempt kids to tackle their rooms and get rid of toys they don’t want any more!

Visit a stream, river, and/or well: Traditionally, Imbolc was a time for visiting holy water; a spring or a well, to both purify us and bring fertility to our dreams. Why not set off on an adventure together as a family to find some water near your home: a river, stream, or well. If the water’s clean, splash some over yourself as you set your intention to cleanse and purify. Glennie Kindred suggests dipping a piece of ribbon in the water and then hanging it from a nearby tree (trees near water are especially sacred) to carry messages of hope and healing. She also reminds us to thank the spirits of the place you visit and pick up any rubbish you see nearby as an act of gratitude.

Now, let’s move on to Lammas!

It is now high summer and the union of Sun and Earth, of God and Goddess, has produced the First Harvest. Lammas is the celebration of this first, Grain Harvest, a time for gathering in and giving thanks for abundance. We work with the cycle that Mabon or the Autumn Equinox is the Second Harvest of Fruit, and Samhain is the third and Final Harvest of Nuts and Berries.

The word 'Lammas' is derived from 'loaf mass' and is indicative of how central and honoured is the first grain and the first loaf of the harvesting cycle.

It is also the great festival of Lugh, or Lug, the great Celtic Sun King and God of Light. August is His sacred month when He initiated great festivities in honour of His mother, Tailtiu. Feasting, market fairs, games and bonfire celebrations were the order of the day. Circle dancing, reflecting the movement of the sun in sympathetic magic, was popular, as were all community gatherings. August was considered an auspicious month for handfastings and weddings.

But underlying this is the knowledge that the bounty and energy of Lugh, of the Sun, is now beginning to wane. It is a time of change and shift. Active growth is slowing down and the darker days of winter and reflection are beckoning… The Grain Mother!

At Lammas the Goddess is in Her aspect as Grain Mother, Harvest Mother, Harvest Queen, Earth Mother, Ceres and Demeter. Demeter, as Corn Mother, represents the ripe corn of this year's harvest and Her daughter Kore/Persephone represents the grain - the seed which drops back deep into the dark earth, hidden throughout the winter, and re-appears in the spring as new growth. This is the deep core meaning of Lammas and comes in different guises. The fullness and fulfillment of the present harvest already holds at its very heart the seed of all future harvest. (It is a fact that a pregnant woman carrying her as yet unborn daughter is also already carrying the ovary containing all the eggs her daughter will ever release - she is already both mother, grandmother and beyond, embodying the great Motherline - pure magic and mystery.)

So as the grain harvest is gathered in, there is food to feed the community through the winter and within that harvest is the seed of next year's rebirth, regeneration and harvest. The Grain Mother is ripe and full, heavily pregnant she carries the seed of the new year's Sun God within her. There is tension here. For the Sun God, the God of the Harvest, the Green Man, or John Barleycorn, surrenders his life with the cutting of the corn.

Herbs and Plants of Lammas

All Grains

wheat, barley, oats, rye, all representing both fulfillment and potential.

Meadowsweet.

Also known as Queen-Of-The-Meadow, Bridewort and Bride of the Meadow. One of the most sacred herbs of the Druids, this was often worn as a garland for Lammas celebrations and was a traditional herb for wedding circlets and bouquets at this time of year. Also used for love spells and can be strewn to promote peace, and its heady scent cheers the heart.

Mint.

Mint is another of the three most revered herbs of the Druids (vervain being the third, according to Grieve). Its magical properties are both protection and healing, and at this stage in the year, its properties of drawing abundance and prosperity, are most appropriate.

Sunflower. We take sunflowers for granted, they are perfectly named and loved by children of all ages. By this stage in the year the flower heads are full and heavy with that wonderful spiral of seeds and they spend the whole day gently turning their heads to gaze at the sun. In the Aztec temples of the sun, priestesses carried sunflowers and wore them as crowns. They symbolize the fertility of the Solar Logos.

Calendula. Little suns, pure joy, in all their shades from deep orange to pale yellow.

Colours of Lammas

Still green, with every shade of sun and harvest, from gold and yellow to deepest orange.

Lammas Altar

Wheat and all grains, corn dolly, bread, sunflowers and calendulas (pot marigolds).

Things To Do

Lammas Charm For Gathering In Abundance

You will need:

A broom or besom

Don't worry if it isn't a traditional besom, any broom will do as it is always intent that is important. If you have no broom, collect a bundle of twigs and tie them at the top with a Lammas ribbon to make a hand broom shape. The besom/broom is a potent symbol of hearth and home, found in some form in almost every household. It is a traditional magical tool useful for everyday charms as it has the imprint of its owner firmly on it. Sweeping is a natural gathering gesture.

Ribbon.

A piece of green ribbon (for abundance), a piece of gold ribbon (for prosperity and gathering) or ribbon in Lammas harvest colours would be equally suitable.

A Spring of Mint.

Ideally a sprig of mint from your garden (but you can get this from any supermarket), or dried mint - put it in a pouch. The mint represents abundance and plenty and is easily accessible to the urban hedgewitch.

Take your broom and tie your ribbon around the stave or top. Tie in your sprig of mint or securely fasten your pouch. Take your broom outside, place both hands on the stave and focus on your intention - gathering in your harvest for winter. Turn slowly three times in a clockwise direction then start to sweep towards your door saying:

"By one, two, three and four, sweep Lammas gifts to my door. May abundance be a constant friend, by my hearth till Winter's end."

Repeat this three times, then take your besom/broom back into your house and put it in its usual place. You can leave the ribbon on for as long as you want to, for a lunar month, or until winter is done. If you have made your own broom you can place it where you consider the heart of your home to be. The mint can be returned to the earth with thanks.

If you do not have an outside space you can sweep from your front door inwards to either your kitchen or hearth using the same charm.

Charm donated with generous heart by the Counter Enchantress.

Make A Grain Mother

Make your own Grain Mother or Corn Dolly. Go for a walk and see what you can find - stalks of wheat, oats, barley, rye often left growing on the edges of fields after harvesting, failing that any grasses and/or reeds you can find. Let your creativity out - if you feel confident, weave your Grain Mother into being, but equally you can just lace and tie her into being with Lammas coloured ribbons. As you do so, give thanks for the gifts of Harvest. Place your Grain Mother on your altar or at the centre of celebrations. At Samhain, return the grain stalks to the earth, they contain the seeds of future harvest...

Bake Bread

Buttermilk Bread Charm for Lammas

You will need:

3 mugs of strong white flour

500 ml of Buttermilk (available from the supermarket)

I teaspoonful of bicarbonate of soda

Lammas ribbon in your choice of colour - gold, orange, yellow

Sprouted seeds - these represent regeneration. Can even be bought in the supermarket now. Frequently found in wholefood shops - or sprout your own.

Place the flour in a large bowl. Make a well in the centre. Sieve in the blended salt and soda and pour in the buttermilk. Mix well with a wooden spoon until the dough feels springy and then mix in the sprouted seeds. If it feels too sloppy just add a little more flour. Turn it onto a board and cover with a fine dusting of flour. Pat it with your hands until you have a round shape. Take a sharp knife and score lightly into eight sections, one for each festival. Our picture shows the bread cut into five sections, making a pentacle.

Place onto a greased baking tray and pop your buttermilk bread into a moderate oven for about 20-25 minutes. Keep and eye on it. When the bread is ready it will change colour and it will sound hollow when you tap the bottom. Cool completely on a wire rack. When it is cool, tie it with Lammas ribbon.

Take time to concentrate on the bread you have created and turn the loaf three times saying"From the fields and through the stones, into fire, Lammas Bread, as the Wheel turns may all be fed. Goddess Bless."

Now take your bread and share it with your family and friends and pass on the generous blessings of this bright and bountiful festival. Eat it fresh, as soon as it is made if you can.

Recipe donated by the Counter Enchantress. Adapted by the Boss Lady with permission.

Collect The Seeds Of Future Harvest

Involve children if you can. Collect and dry them in the sun, ready for next year's planting. Consider giving them as gifts at Samhain or Yule. Seeds are such amazing and mysterious things - each tiny seed contains within it the blueprint for the whole plant it will become. It will mirror its mother plant, the mother that raised the seed and returned it to the earth with the help of the light of the sun. It's a miracle every time.

Above all:

Have Fun, Give Thanks and Celebrate.

#pagan #pagancommunity #pagan witch #paganism #witchythings #witches #baby witch #witchyvibes #witchlife #beginner witch #lammas #imbolc #northern hemisphere #southern hemisphere #holiday #pagan holidays #pagan holiday #information #informational

[soft-and-certain]

That Unwanted Animal: An Analysis of Feeling Trapped

This is a theory I haven’t seen anywhere yet (after a cursory, surface-level check through the tags) and I feel like it’s worth sharing. I’ll be going pretty much line by line, which means this’ll be long. Trigger warning for discussion of toxic relationships, and their emotional and physical aspects.

So many of the posts I’ve seen about That Unwanted Animal focus on the raw sexual energy and feral quality of the song, which is definitely worth talking about - I mean, have you heard Madeleine Hyland’s voice? It’s a wonder I don’t drop dead because my heart ceases beating. But the first time I listened to it, my mind took me in quite a different direction. To me, it tells the story of a person trapped in an emotionally draining - possibly even abusive - relationship.

The song opens quietly, but it has an undercurrent of frantic energy behind it. Her whispering vocals carry this along, almost sounding like she doesn’t want to be heard, at least at first. 

You try so loud to love me, I cannot seem to hear ‘Cause you, you touch, my skin peels off like paint But beneath all of our panting, there’s this noise I cannot shake Can’t you hear the scratching, there’s something at the door

No matter how satisfying physical love can be, it  won’t replace the feeling that comes with communication and intimacy. Her lover seems to be unaware of her discomfort, the disconnect between them. Perhaps she is good at hiding her feelings, or he is just oblivious. He could also be ignoring it, which would add a whole other layer of unease.

And as you grip me like an animal that you’re about to spear “Be good to me,” I whisper. And you say, “What?” And I say, “Nothing, dear”

This line hits particularly hard. Not being able to voice your needs, desires, and concerns in a relationship (regardless of the type of relationship) is terrifying, and is one of the reasons for the anxiety that I felt the first time I listened to the song. 

The fact that he “grips her like an animal” is also indicative of the situation. Perhaps the first thought of many would be passion, but that is definitely not what came across for me. 

While we’re at it, let’s talk about her tone as she says this. Across the album, she proves that her voice can convey a multitude of emotions; here, to me, she almost sounds afraid.

Can’t you hear it? It can hear you It wants me to Throw the plate at the wall

Now she’s reached her breaking point. She’s finally had enough, and all that bottled up emotion has to let itself out. Shit’s about to get real. (Let’s have a moment of silence for the absolute power in her voice during the break. My gay heart.)

I’m the paper cut that kills you, I’m the priest that you ignored I’m the touch you crave, I’m the plans that you made, but fuck all your plans I’m bored And can’t you hear that scratching? I ask your eyes

Her lover truly loves her, planned his life around her, but she wants nothing to do with his plans anymore. Maybe she never did in the first place, or she’s only just realized that what she wants and what he wants out of life is very different. Their relationship has stagnated, and she’s begging him to realize what he’s doing to her. Can’t he hear that scratching? Can’t he see how she feels?

I’ve got knuckle burn from typing all these lines into your chest And as the belt from your buckle is tightening  I make shipwrecks out of my dress And the door below it splinters, and the creature creeps inside

Ah, emotional labor. In a healthy relationship, this labor would be performed equally by both parties in a give-and-take situation. Sadly, as happens so many times in real life, that does not seem to be the case here. The creature - her unexpressed frustration, anger, and discomfort - has finally been realized.

And we fall into each other, the scratching grows so loud Because that unwanted animal wants nothing more than to get out And I scream “What’s the time, Mister Wolf?” But you, you’re blind, you bleat, you bear your claws

Wow. This part of the song is what makes me go completely feral, there’s so much ragged emotion in the music. They think that maybe, just maybe, if they ignore the problem and try to fix it with sex, it’ll just go away. (Spoiler alert - that never works).

Her “unwanted animal” grows stronger and stronger, and she tries to reason with it, to bargain and deny and shove it down. But it refuses to be reasoned with, and only grows worse. 

This could also, again, be referencing her lover’s insensitivity (he’s blind, he bears his claws; he senses a fight but not the reasons why).

And you rip my ribcage open and devour what’s truly yours And our screaming joins in unison, I cry out to the lord Cos if we join our hands in prayer enough To God I imagine it all starts to sound like applause

Another hint at the more.. toxic physical aspects of their relationship. Maybe it’s just a metaphor! Who knows? But it certainly sounds scary. 

Though she is angry, her heart is still “truly [his]” and they still love each other. They’re just tearing each other apart. Her cynicism towards prayer is something I and many of my friends have experienced firsthand, especially the mentality of “Why doesn’t God fix this? Why does he allow it to go on?” That’s the energy I get from this.

But that second wind is coming love, it’s coming for all we own And on the creature scratches, it doesn’t know how to get out

She knows that the dissonance between them is destroying their relationship, and she’s desperate to make it out in one piece. But she doesn’t know how to bring it up with her lover, to explain to him that this can’t last, and she’s afraid of the disruption such a confession could unleash between them. This song serves as an aside to the audience, I think. An outlet for her creature.  And yet, the confrontation is inevitable. 

And you, you follow philosophies, but me, I laugh I choke “Well hello, my hollow Holofernes.” I wink but you don’t get the joke “Hold the hand of the god-child,” they said, “as he falls from the sky”

I’m going to be honest, I also don’t get the joke. Is it about the historical figure or the Shakespearean character? What is she implying? Clarifications welcome! 

I’ve done a lot of choking over philosophies, myself. If you can’t understand why a person believes what they do, or how they could ever come to such a conclusion in the first place, it’s definitely going to put extra strain on an already tense relationship. Combined with the societal expectation for women to perform a disproportionate amount of emotional labor in romantic relationships (holding the hand of the “god-child,” so to speak) and you get a very, very unhealthy situation.

Be good to me I beg of him Be good to me I beg of him Be good be good be good be good be good be good be good And he replies… “No no, not I.”

The rawness of her voice as she sings this is what breaks me. She’s literally begging him to be good to her. And he won’t. This is the moment when my stomach sank and my heart went pounding and it’s so good and yet so awful at the same time. It’s releasing a breath I didn’t know I had been holding for the whole song. It’s realizing that this relationship will end up ripping her to shreds if she can’t get out. If the creature doesn’t get out.

But, in both the literal and metaphorical sense, they’re trapped.

________________________________________________________________

Huge thanks to everyone who read the entire thing. Discussion is welcomed and appreciated! This song is beautifully written, beautifully composed, and I am absolutely in love with it! Exploring every aspect of a piece of media is one of my favorite activities, especially for such a labor of love as this album.

#the amazing devil #the horror and the wild #that unwanted animal #joey batey #madeleine hyland #music #lyrics #analysis #theory #emotional labor #emotional abuse #physical violence #kinda #toxic relationship #mine

[bladekindeyewear]

Reading Homestuck 2 (Homestuck^2?), starting at Page 1.  Let’s see what this first month of upd8 has brought us.  (Assuming I haven’t stalled so damn long that the second part’s already out.)

I’m definitely curious to see what this ship of Dirk’s is going to look like.  Looks fishy from this distance.

> ==>

Yeah that seems about right.  Cool design.  Not quite as dick-like as something I’d expect Jake to have helped design, though.

Hi asshole! :D

And speaking of asshole,

--don’t think I didn’t notice those stupid fucking hearts you painted the bottom of the page with, you piece of shit.

Oh, and the name of the ship, Theseus?  I’m sure there’s plenty of lore you can dig up on why a pretentious guy like Dirk chose that name.  And the right place to get that lore is not from me!  :)  In case you’re new to my reactions, that ain’t my style or skillset, despite the theorycrafting reputation.  (Theorycrapping?)

> ==>

Look at this giant fuckin’ weebnerd.

> ==>

Dirk’s trying to write the story some ahead of time, of course.

> I bet there was a moment just now when you thought to yourself, oh thank god. Thank the maker. Thank literally what-the-hell-ever recalcitrant entity was, is now, or perhaps always has been responsible for piloting this story.

...yep, Dirk’s definitely aspiring to become the author of all reality retroactively, here.

...lumbago?

> Whichever accursed species of demiurgic figure that is, you thought, let's just thank the ever living fuck that this time they decided to call it a night and get out the drawing tablet instead.

> Finally, this story is back on the rails. Maybe we can get back to what things were like in the good old days

Somebody really missed the image-text pairing Homestuck’s usually used.

> where boys were brave, girls were guileful, authors were alliterative and in various dubious states of non-/un/double-death, and this comic made at least a little bit of sense to more or less everybody.

And also apparently missed a bit of how the characters used to act more-or-less heroically under the pressure of a life-or-death huge plot arc situation.

Dirk was relatively good for everyone when there was a clear goal and struggle on the table, back during their session.  But after a handful of years of peacetime, as the Epilogues were about to get rolling?  Dirk got tired REAL fast of how everyone “stagnated” from their storybook-hero selves.  If there wasn’t a reality-threatening conflict to get everyone acting the way he imagines they “should”, then by Dirk, he’s gonna create one.  That’s the way I think he’s thinking, anyway.

> No more dealing with narrators, unreliable and not. No more embittered scrimmages over the bounding metafictional reality within which everything transpires. No more stupid tang-tinted text. Your collective sigh of relief is deafening.

> Well tough shit. This stor—

Yeah, we might have some more heroic protagonists out of necessity, but the meta narrator shit is NOT going to be toned down at all.  It’s the whole point of the struggle he’s undertaken, if we’re right about his whole “become the narrator of Paradox Space from its beginning” goal.

And now, Rosebot.  Let’s hope she’s not too depressing a character.  I mean, given what she said in Candy about “how she got to be happy”, there’s a decent chance she’s not even going to come through this alive, despite all Kanaya’s effort to save her in this new continu-story.  And that’s not something I want to think about all that hard.

That, or some or all of this “Ultimate Self” of hers gets crammed into the White Cueball(s) to become their nigh-omniscient info source.  That’s an old theory.  The Cueballs having originally been part of Caliborn’s clock has never been a clear explanation of why so much information can be gleaned from them, or why they were able to give Rose a hard enough literal answer to role-invert her back in her original session.  (There are other potential extensions and facets of that theory too, involving a good number of jujus that may be floating about, made sooner or later using the essence of characters still involved such as Aradia.  And Dirk is someone with less and less moral qualms who has the ability to drag people’s souls out of their bodies, so...)

> There's an audio format even better than analog, it turns out, and that's what replaced Rose's vocal chords when I scooped up her rapidly dissipating soul and installed it in a robot body. I have it on authority that decanting is sometimes necessary to ensure a wine is at its best. I like to think that the same was ultimately true of her.

Fuck you, Dirk.

> DIRK: I'm just waiting here for an errant gust of wind to jostle my petticoats, unfortuitously exposing my undergarments to the lurid gaze of whatever prurient peeper might be watching.

Balls exposed on stream?

Rosebot, stop using painful-sounding extended robotics descriptions for your various convulsions and expressions.  I know you’re endlessly amused by it, but you’re hurting our fucking souls.

DIRK: Alright we get it you are literally a robot.

DIRK: No need to keep pointing it out every chance you can get. I used to get enough of this with the Auto-Responder.

Thanks.... Dirk.... for stopping her?

ROSEBOT: For example, I've calculated that by making these remarks I have raised the base level of amusement in all my conversations by 36%. DIRK: Well I don't personally find them very funny. ROSEBOT: No, but I do. ROSEBOT: It averages out, you see.

Rose, if you’re doing this in part just to piss him off, I might genuinely forgive you somewhat.

Let me break this into another post here.  I don’t actually know how long this first run of pages is going to BE.

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #upd8 #bladekindeyewear #blastyoboots