#I can’t just allow myself to lose interest in everything I used to like and be and just fade away but maybe it’s about accepting that this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

leajdh · 3 months

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Gold rush

Chapter Five: You who shimmy shook my bone, leaving me stranded all in love on my own.

He was just a few more steps away from becoming a living legend. Already praised by the media as the honored one, he made a grave mistake which not only put his Ice Hockey career on hold, it disappointed even his most loyal fans so much so that his reputation sank to an all-time low.

Then he meets you; a retired figure skating champion who is now trying to find her purpose in life after her triumphs, all while still being loved and cherished by the media and public likewise.

Satoru Gojo sees his chance to not only get back unto the rink, but also to regain his former popularity.

But he soon realizes it will be a lot harder to get on your good side, because he's everything you despise combined into one person.

Will you give him a second chance and allow him to redeem himself, or is this going to be the match for your life time?

Gojo Satoru x reader (first person narrator)

Ice Hockey AU

FAKE DATING TROPE

Enemies to lovers

English isn't my first language, so expect some grammar errors

18+!!

ALL CHAPTERS: https://www.tumblr.com/leajdh/722300699873083392/all-chapter-of-my-satoru-gojo-x-reader-fanfiction?source=share

Suguru was right.

The people love us. The picture he took yesterday of Satoru and me went viral. Not even ten minutes after it was posted on Satorus instagram page, it had over 20k likes and over a thousand comments. Surely some comments were negative but that was predictable and mostly they were genuinely nice. We got a whole lot of comments telling us that we are perfect for each other, which is such an internet thing to say, because they don’t know anything about us other than we are both skating on ice. Well, certainly this is enough for the public to think we are compatible.

We had a good run since the picture was taken. I don’t feel awkward or nervous around Satoru anymore. Against my better judgment sleeping with him really helped. I can look at him without having the sudden urge to run away and hide.

And I like to look at him, especially when he is training with his focused face, listening to everything Mei Mei screams at him, but still completely absorbed in his flow. I have only watched him train for about thirty minutes, however I was hooked by his movements. The itch to watch him far longer was there, but I didn’t want to come across as if I have any kind of interest in him outside of our contract.

The way I smiled at him in this goddamn picture was enough to set me off.

I slept with him, I smiled like a simpleton at him and now I even enjoyed him playing Ice Hockey, the sport I hate more than anything.

I had to press on my mental brake. Falling for him isn’t an option. After all, I still have my doubts about him. I can’t throw them all over board because we had sex. He is ever so unpredictable and arrogant and just not the one for me.

At least social media proved itself useful in my dilemma. A user posted an edit of the way I glance before I step on the ice followed by a clip of Satoru doing the same. Once we are on the ice, knowing something is there to win, we both look and act the same.

Maybe that’s what fascinates me when I watch him train. It is like looking in a macabre mirror, seeing another person as infatuated as myself with being the best. We have the same fixed stare, head slightly tilted downwards, looking up between our lashes and noticing everything around us without losing our center. Shoulders and back straight and neck long. The perfect posture, even while stepping and sliding on the ice.

I wish to know if his heart has the same beat as mine in these kinds of moments. Strong enough to feel it pulsate in my ears, feeling the blood flow hot up and down my carotid artery, vision focused but also blurry from the frenzy.

The emergence of goosebumps all over the skin, not enough for others to notice, but just enough to feel it happening out of fever and being filled up with enough adrenaline to knock out a thousand men, but just enough of it to calm one maniac.

I realized from the moment he blackmailed me with this video of us, we are cut from the same cloth.

Since then I was on the lookout, my guard up to the moon but he still managed to slip right through and got the upper hand over me by noticing one of my weaknesses.

How I am actually really insecure whenever I am not on the ice.

How fragile my self-perception is.

How important the voices of others are.

How my life is one big ongoing performance.

I let him see a glimpse of the real me and in return I got nothing. All I know about him, I can read online. Just some standard information. Granted our contract was formed because he wants his popularity back. Something that seems important to him. Nevertheless Suguru was the one who told me the resentment of his fans affected Satoru. It wasn’t Satoru who openly claimed and explained it.

He doesn’t let me in and it pisses me off.

I don’t want him to win. When we will walk out of the contract, I want to have the upper hand.

Should we be a team? Absolutely.

Are we both team players? Absolutely not.

Well, I know I am not a team player. He should be one as the captain of an Ice Hockey team, but I have the eerie feeling just for our state of affairs, he won’t be one.

I need to get the control back or at least a draw.

But how?

Think, think, think.

Totally lost in my thoughts upon creating a counter strike, I notice the big, gloomy figure behind me first when an arm like a tree trunk hovers over my head to grab something from the supermarket shelf I stand in front of. Irritated by the close proximity of this random person showing up right behind me, I quickly turn around and stare up at a man, who grins like the devil himself. He isn’t looking at me, staring at the grocery he wants from the shelf but that grin.

I know it is for me and strangely I have the feeling we met before.

“Well, excuse me”, I mutter, finding it troublesome to have someone in my personal space.

“You’re excused”, he answers, still not looking at me while examining the ingredients of the product he just grabbed. I feel a shiver down my spine from how low and thorny his voice is, but I try to not get too alarmed as I roll my eyes at his answer. With an offended side stare, I take a step to the side.

He is tall, not as tall as Satoru but broader, taking up more space in an uncomfortable manner. His arms and even his face are crested in thick, black tattoos. Maybe he has some more all over his body but I won’t ever be able to tell. Sharp facial features with a strong jaw and menacing warm eyes with a reddish hue to them. With his wide smirk still plastered on his face, I shortly doubt myself that the man next to me is human. The teeth are barbed and massive like ones feline predators have.

“Loser.”

As soon as he adds this word, my head snaps back up.

Oh my fucking god. He is real.

The memories of him hit me like a ton of bricks.

Tokyo, Japan, my first world championship.

The year before I won second place at the junior world championship, ending my streak of first places.

It was devastating.

Surely once being second place isn’t the end of the world, but the media at that time was harsh and brutal on me, maybe because I never lost and they finally saw a crack in my perfect facade.

I was 16 and read articles saying from now on I will only get worse.

And I wasn’t even at the Olympics.

It felt like my entire career had no meaning and I should just quit altogether. The questions I got asked ripped me mentally into pieces as I answered them with a fake smile, ready to cry once the cameras were away. Mei Mei and my mother tried to cheer me up, telling me not to listen to such bullshit.

Figure skating is one of the most competitive sports. Each year the athletes are getting younger and breaking more limits and record after record.

Time doesn’t stop for anyone and it certainly doesn’t for athletes. I was crying for 2 days in my room calling myself old and worn-out.

Truly the joys of being an athlete.

I refused to step on the ice for over a month until my mother had enough and took my phone and computer away, forcing me back on the rink.

For her there wasn’t any other outcome. One day I would win gold in the Olympics.

Her dream for me.

But for that dream to come true, I must skate again.

And I did, reluctantly.

As if I ever had a choice in this matter. With an overly ambitious mother and my competitive mindset which was thrilled into my head as soon as I took my first step on the ice.

However, let's go back to the World Championship.

All eyes were on me and I felt it in my strangled veins. I was never so nervous and insecure on ice before.

I’m never insecure on ice. Skating is like breathing for me.

And who would ever be insecure about breathing?

You get time slots when you can enter the rink for training before the competition. I waited for my turn at the lobby, getting myself warmed up. Championships lure all kinds of people into one place and mostly other athletes. It is good press to be interested in other sports and showing support, but most athletes do it for a bit of media coverage in between their seasons.

I used to love watching swimming competitions, always finding it nice to see the contrast from ice skating.

Hard ice against soft water. Coldness against warmth.

So it wasn’t a surprise to see other athletes or just random celebrities in the hall.

I remember him. As tall as in the present but not as broad. Younger but still sharp features and already tattoos on his arms. Overall an extremely good-looking man.

He talked with reporters, grinning mischievous.

I was amazed like most of the other girls.

To be honest, to amaze me at that time, you just had to look at me at least once and open a door for me. Both things he did.

My seventeen years old brain was going haywire and you can definitely blame my mother for it. I barely had any time for friends, so meeting boys wasn’t even a theme to begin with. The only talk I really had with her was when I got my period and she instantly made an appointment to get me an IUD.

Her dream ended with her pregnancy. She wouldn’t allow the same thing to happen to me.

Granted, I never questioned her. For me it was normal to concentrate all my energy on skating.

Mei Mei always told me ‘now you are a figure skater and when you retire you will be a human again’.

Insane, right?

But I lived by that statement, focusing on skating entirely.

Just not on that day. I watched him like a hawk, walking around with a dozen people around him and taking picture after picture.

Just who was he?

I couldn’t google it because my mother still had my phone and asking wasn’t in my repertoire.

He noticed my glances. It wasn’t like I was subtle with it. I did everything to occupy my mind with something other than skating and losing again.

On the outside I seemed cool and collective, Mei Mei and my mother truly thought I was over the Junior Championship, but mentally I was a sinking ship, just one more crash against an iceberg away from becoming a wreck.

And just a few hours later I became one.

On that day less than 24 hours before the competition. I was on the ice, going over my routine.

I fell, not once, not twice, I fell so often I stopped counting. Mei Mei screamed at me, my mother completely shocked on why I performed this way.

Reporters aren’t allowed on the tribune while athletes are training in their time slots but people with VIP-passes can enter and he seemed to have one. He watched me fall and fall again with that creepy smile on his face. I tried to blend him out and it worked.

Like I said before, glances don’t bother me. I am used to being watched. Only Satoru managed to make me giddy.

Not even twenty minutes into my training I fucked up my signature triple axel, bending my ankle so hard I could hear my ligaments snatch, overstretching to the maximum. I was lucky they didn’t rip.

I bit my teeth hard together and managed to leave the rink, stomping past Mei Mei and my mother, who wanted me back on ice. They didn’t know about my ligaments, just thinking I landed poorly but if I could still skate, it wasn’t so bad, right?

Right.

Telling them with gritted teeth that I need some time for myself I went into my locker room, where I just sat down and stared at the wall for minutes, emotionless.

The blood pulsating in my feet, I knew once I put the skates off it would be bad. With shaky hands I opened them and stared at my ankle. Swollen already and I knew it would bruise.

My mother would not allow me to skate like this. She is strict but not a lunatic. If I land one more time incorrectly without the ligaments fully healed, they will snap completely and my career is over.

But I needed, no, I wanted the World Champion title.

Now or never. I didn’t want to wait another year.

Another year would mean one year older, one year nearer my retirement.

I wanted to cry but nothing came out.

Eventually with an injury like this, I must have accepted that my career was ending.

I just wasn’t good enough for the Olympics.

There is no shame to it. A lot of athletes never make it.

I instantly kick these thoughts in the butt. No, it isn’t over. I can do this. I will not fall tomorrow at the competition. I will win. I can take care of my ankle after the competition. It will fully heal.

I knew it.

It was nearly 10 years ago, so I don’t quite remember how long I was alone with my thoughts as the door opened and someone stepped in. I remember I sighed, madly trying to hide the swelling with a towel thrown over it. I expected my mother or Mei Mei to be the ones bothering me, but it was him with a big fat grin sitting on his face.

Throughout the conversation we were going to have his grin stayed on, sometimes fading or growing. But one thing is engraved in my brain like an antibiotic resistant parasite. His first words to me. Simple, but so world shattering to me.

“Hey, Loser.”

He called me what I was truly thinking of myself at that moment, but never dared to acknowledge.

Nevertheless I couldn’t believe someone would call me that. Before I even had the chance to tell him to fuck himself and get lost, he kept on talking. Along the lines of he knows torn ligaments when he sees them happening.

Staring him down I should have told him to leave my cabin, instead I said: “They aren’t torn, just on the edge of it.”

I removed the towel and leaned over to my bag, taking out sport tapes. With a smile I babbled more to myself: “I had worse.”

Confidence is the key but my act didn’t work on him. He just leaned against the wall in front of me, not believing a single word by the way he looked at me.

As I started to pull my legging up and begin sticking the tapes down, he clicked his tongue in disbelief.

“By the way this is a private cabin.”, he ignored my words and with two big steps, he was right in front of me, taking the tapes out of my hand and muttering curses to himself.

Mercilessly he grabbed my lower leg and stretched it out, my feet staying on his hard chest. It hurt like hell and I yelped, which gained me a side eye and something along the lines of ‘stop being a fucking pussy’.

Usually I would say something snarky back, but I didn’t dare with him. Instead I just murmured: “I know how to tape myself.”

He only snorted mockingly at that and started to tape my ankle. If this guy is one thing, it definitely isn’t gentle. He applied the tape with such force, it felt like he wanted me to bruise even more. Still, I bit my teeth and let him do it. In between taping he started to talk to me: “I had the same thing once, so I know what to do.”

My ankle was covered in tape in the pattern of a spiderweb. He talked to me like a ruthless trainer, who ignores the health of his athlete.

“Keep the ankle cold under any circumstance, even if it feels like dying or you don’t feel anything at all.”

Then he took a normal bandage and wrapped it around, tightly, telling me not to open it until after the competition. It will swell even worse and probably needs more time to heal, but at least I could be on the ice.

Then he told me the same truth I already knew.

“If you fall, it is over”, he snickered: “maybe it would be better anyway. To just end your foolish career.”

I knew, if I fall with this injury, it is truly over. Knowing it is one thing, but hearing someone else say it out loud shook my back into reality.

“I won’t fall”, I told him without a doubt in my voice, ignoring his mean remarks. Bare teeth blinded my eyes as he laughed.

“Just making sure you know your fate.”

Asshole.

“Why even help me if I will fail?”, I bit back. He shrugged his shoulders.

“I like being surprised.”

What a fucking weirdo.

He pulled out his wallet and showed me a pill, asking if I already had my urine test. I nodded and looked skeptical at the pill. I do a lot of things to win, but I don’t take drugs. Seeing my suspicious scowl he told me: “It’s just a heavy painkiller.”

My scowl deepens. Painkillers are allowed, so why would he ask about my urine test?

He could read my mind like an open book.

"Prescribed.”

If they find a substance from a prescribed pill in my urine, I would need a doctor's note, so his question made sense.

Well, that certainly didn’t sound better, and fine, I trusted him with my ankle but I wouldn’t take a pill from him. For all I knew he could be lying and giving me drugs. He rolled his eyes as I didn’t take it like I am stupid or something for not trusting him. Quite the contrary, I thought I was pretty smart for it.

So I asked him: “Who are you even?”

All I got was a doubting laugh with furrowed brows like I am a fool for not knowing him. Based on my confused face he understood quickly I really had no clue and a devious smile grew back on his face.

“I am.. Yuji.”, he states with a pause in between like he forgot what his own name is: “I play for the Japanese national basketball team.”

Nevertheless I was hesitant. Surely he was tall enough to be a basketball player but why was he here?

Duh, why did I go to the swimming World cups? To be seen.

Still I wouldn’t take a pill from him.

I crossed my arms like a sulking child and shook my head.

The air around him switched. To be honest he wasn’t in a friendly mood to begin with but now it changed drastically.

He explained why he was even here to begin with. How he extra came for me to the Championship and how it was such a pain for his team to get him a VIP-pass.

All that for me to be a pathetic loser, who falls. He criticized my speed, my jumps and my overall form. It was like talking to all my worst critics combined. He didn’t sugarcoat one bit. His words were brutal and unforgiving.

How he gave me a chance to get my title back and get Gold again, just for me to not accept it. How much he hates wasted potential and I am the embodiment of it. A silly little pathetic loser, blessed with genetic talent but no drive.

I pushed myself up, feeling a slight sting in my leg, but didn’t mind.

How dare he? He doesn’t know shit about me. As if his fucking pill would be my path to Gold. No, I didn’t care about the pain, I could ignore it.

But I couldn’t ignore his attitude anymore. What did he even want from me? He didn’t know anything about me. We never talked before, nothing. I was angry. Angry at him and angry at me for allowing him from the beginning to talk down to me.

“Get the fuck out of my cabin!”, I hollered, but he didn’t move, smiling like my anger meant nothing to him and rather amused him, if not turning him on.

“Or what?”

Yeah, fuck that or what? Honestly there was nothing I could do against a guy like this. I bet even if I hit him, it wouldn’t affect him, probably again just turning him on.

“I will make sure they take your VIP-pass away”, oh my god, that was pathetic. Looking back I cringe at myself, but that’s all I could do.

Another deep laugh.

“Do it, this whole thing is a waste of my time anyway. I thought I would see some great talents, but all I see is a whiny slut.”

I should be afraid but I wasn’t. I was just angry.

“I am a lot but not whiny.”

“No denying on the slut part, I see.”

I roll my eyes. I didn’t even have my first kiss at that time, but he didn’t have to know.

“It’s not worth commenting”, I fired back.

Suddenly everything happened so quickly, I barely had time to register anything as he grabbed my jaw with his large hand and squeezed my cheeks together.

“I bet it turns you on being called all these degrading words”, he lowers his face to mine, nose on nose with a demonic grin plastered on his face.

I’m a winner. Degradation doesn’t turn me on. It makes my blood boil. Sadly wrath and lust often go hand in hand, but I would never let him know.

“I beg to differ”, I tear my face out of his grip.

“Then prove me wrong, loser.”, his grip traveled to my throat, holding me in place, not wanting me to look away from his challenge. I didn’t waver my glance from his dark eyes.

He leant in closer to my face, waiting for me to break away first but I kept my eyes on him, even as his lips nearly brushed mine.

Never in my life was I more happy to be interrupted by my mother as we heard a knock on the door. Slowly, still with a wide smile on his face, he let go of me like nothing happened and put the pill in my hand. In a swift motion he walked to another exit like he had no care in the world while I was frozen into place.

My mother came into the cabin and talked to me, but I didn’t listen. All I had in my mind was him and how to prove him fucking wrong.

And I did, I won Gold the next day.

With the worst pain ever in my leg I stood on the pedestal, waving with a bitter smile into the camera.

I saw him during my performance but not at the award ceremony.

Who is the loser now?

I bet he thought I couldn’t bring it. Wanted me to fall and fail, crying on national TV over my career ending.

Wrong slut, motherfucker.

However as soon as I was backstage, my leg gave in. My mother caught me and Masamichi carried me to a private cabin.

I didn’t take his pill. I didn’t need his help.

I won on my own.

When my mother took my skate off my foot I screamed, nearly blacking out. Mei Mei looked at the bandages around my ankle.

“Who did this?”, she asked furious, now understanding why I didn’t let them near my skates to fix them before my performance.

“I did it.”

“Don’t lie to me, you idiot!”

My mother proceeded to unwrap my ankle, feeling like she skinned my foot alive.

“This is a military binding technique! It is made to stabilize a dying foot so the soldier can move forward.”

“It did the job”, I muttered back in a delirious state of pain.

“You are so stupid! It is for a dying foot! With this technique they don’t want to save the foot, they just want stabilization for a moment before it will be amputated!”

I didn’t really register her words, all I had in my mind was the Gold medal around my neck and the cold metal against my chest as I fainted.

I woke up in the hospital, my foot held up by some strings and tubes pumping a liquid into it.

The pain was bearable, but my foot felt heavy and numb.

I looked over and saw my mother sitting in a chair. She didn’t look happy like most mothers would be once their child woke up after fainting.

“What the hell did you think?”

I thought nothing to be frank. I did as he told me and it worked. It worked perfectly. I won Gold. My lucky streak would be back.

“I did what I had to do to win”, I replied.

“You could have not only lost your career as a figure skater, you could have lost your foot!”

“But I didn’t.”

“Don’t act smart with me now!”

“I am the world champion, mom.”

“I don’t care.”

“You do, you only ever cared about that.”

“That is not true.”

I stared at her with a tired but fierce expression. If she wanted to tell herself that, she could do it. I wouldn’t stop her. Making herself feel like she was the mother of the century.

If I had shown her my foot, yeah, she would have said no to the competition but I would have gotten the silent treatment for weeks.

Like getting an injury is my fault. For her it would be.

Because how dare me to fail her dream.

She put so much energy into me. Imagine it all failing.

What a waste of time. All for a loser like me.

Certainly I have shown in this performance I am not a loser. My performance was worthy of the Olympics and I would go to them the coming year and win Gold too.

I am a fucking winner. The whole world is going to know my name.

Everything felt unreal. My career wasn’t over. If my foot wasn’t going to fully recover my mother would have told me instantly instead of trying to lecture me.

I softly chuckled to myself, thinking about him. At this moment of delusion I truly thought I owe this motherfucker my career.

“Right now you look just like your father”, she said quietly: “I don’t recognize you.”

Still in my trance I tilted my head to my mother and just sputtered: “At least I am not a loser like you.”

The moment I said it was the moment I regretted it. Before I had the chance to apologize, she was out of the room, leaving me alone.

No, I was wrong. I didn’t owe him my career, he only took part in creating a new part of my personality. An irrational and cruel one.

He made me the cunt I am.

For years I thought he was a ghost I created myself. Like part of my hidden personality came out the moment I nearly gave up and brutally dragged me back on the ice.

To kick me even harder at my lowest point and either leave me there or make me get back up.

I never apologized to my mother, but I got my phone and computer back and she acted like nothing happened, training me for the Olympics once my foot was back to normal. I lost two months of training because of my injury and the binding technique, but it didn’t matter. I knew whatever would come in between the Olympics and me would be demolished. I was never going to give up.

He was a mystery I didn’t want to solve. I could have googled him, but I didn’t. I liked the idea of him just being a weird imagination of mine to get back on track.

But now he is standing next to me in the cereal aisle of a small town supermarket and I am sure he is not a projection of my mind. He is real.

“I know you are but what am I?”, I croak back, my voice lost in my throat.

“You are witty, I will give you that.”, he chortles, cracking a smile: “But I take it back, you certainly aren’t a loser.”

“So don’t call me that.”

“Pet names take time to form, I wasn’t expecting to meet you here in the middle of nowhere. So I don’t have one up my sleeve.”

Me neither to the meeting part, but why does it feel like he is lying. Like he knew I would be here.

“How about my real name?”

“Nah, way too impersonal.”, god, the way he is so presumptuous is kind of alluring in the best way possible. Must be me, I seem to have a soft spot for cocky bastards.

“Well, we aren’t exactly friends.”

He turns with a full on grin to me, the one I dreamed about for months. The one I see in my mind before entering a competition.

“You are right.”, he added my name: “But I will still think of something new, something fitting.”

I can’t fucking wait for it.

“What would you say is the perfect gift for an old friend you haven’t seen in a while?”, he drags me out of my empty thoughts: “Not for you. You stated we aren’t friends, right?”

“Right”, I stutter back: “I guess it depends on the friend.”

I try to act nonchalantly, but I feel like failing.

That answer earned me a slight chuckle from him. I decide it would be best to ignore him and just continue my purchase, walking down the aisle, but the looming shadow doesn’t leave me.

“A friend who isn’t a friend at all.”

This sentence piqued my interest.

“Still not for you”, he adds, but I wasn’t even thinking that.

“Then why buy a gift?”, I ask, allowing him to keep the conversation going as he walks through the fruit section with me. I am glad we are in a public space filled with people. Alone with him again, I would not survive.

“Just for courtesy. He had a rough time”, subtle information but nothing sturdy to grab onto.

His grin is going to kill me. I feel like a flight animal in the headlights of a predator.

“Wine always works”, I answer politely and curse myself still giving him partially my attention.

The curse of being a woman, always civil to uncivil men.

A loud laugh echoes through the aisle before it abruptly ends, his sharp teeth still showing.

“Not a bad idea, but alcohol isn’t his thing”, he states: “anymore.”

I frown but end up not thinking further about his oddity as I see a box of chocolates and instantly think of Satoru. How he asked me for a ‘thank you’ card and a box of chocolates for his ‘help’. A dumb tease from his side but in my head the cogs start to turn.

Round and round for a counter strike. I place the box in my shopper with a grin similar to the one from him.

Fuck, he really created a part of me.

“Chocolates always work as well”, I babble back, before turning serious. “What brought you to this city?”

“Oh, just a quick stop before visiting my friend, who isn’t really my friend.”

For whatever reason the way he talks and acts is enthralling. I know he isn’t a good person but he has a certain aura that not a lot of people have. A confident one, but ready to be able to back it up. I should have googled him. I should have to see if he has some achievements to back up his brash attitude towards me all those years ago.

I can’t shake off the feeling that something isn’t quite right.

“Seems like fate that we meet again”, if it is even possible his grin got bigger.

“You also thought it would be my fate to fall and call quits, but here we are. Coincidences happen.”

Yes, our meeting years ago and now, they are just coincidences. Nothing more and nothing less.

“Oh, little devil I don’t believe in just coincidences.”

“Don’t call me that!”, I turned sharply around to him. He holds up his hands in a mocking way.

“Calm your tits.”

“Why did you call me that?”

“Because you are a bratty, little devil”, I ignore the sexual undertone in his words. It clicked instantly like finding the right puzzle piece.

“Are you a Devils fan?”, I ask, taking another step back. He steps forward, looking down on me.

“Nah”, he chuckles roughly: “I am not into Ice Hockey.”

Fuck, I can’t tell if he is lying or not. He is as unreadable as Satoru. He is so indifferent, so detached, it is hard to see what his intentions are. For a second I just want to yell at him: ‘What do you want from me!?’ but I calm down and just continue my purchase, feeling his presence still in my neck.

“Mind if we take a picture together?”

I turn towards him, looking him up and down with my eyebrows pulled together. He laughs lightly, sounding friendlier.

“Against whatever skepticism is playing in your head, I was always a fan of you.”

“You had a great way to show your support”, I instantly built my guards up around him.

“I think so too”, he ignores my obvious sarcasm.

That fucking evil grin again as he pulls out his phone and hands it to a lady next to us, asking her to take a picture. Before I even register it, he is next to me, slinging his massive arm around my shoulder and yanks me towards him. Looking up he has a big grin on his face while I probably look startled as hell.

Everything just happens so fast again, like I am back in the cabin. I couldn’t even agree as he took the phone back from the lady.

“Thank y-”, he starts, but I butt in: “I didn’t ag-”

“You smell good, what’s your perfume?”, he interrupts me too. I’m too confused to finish my other sentences as I just ask: “Why?”

“That friend, who isn’t really my friend, has a new girlfriend. I want to give her something too.”

I tell him the perfume I use and walk straight to the register, just wanting to get away. He should have fucking stayed a ghost.

I don’t try to gnaw on it too much as I put my groceries down. Eyeing a ‘thank you’ card, I quickly put it next to my groceries.

“Got a boyfriend?”, he asks without giving me a second look as he puts his stuff on the conveyor belt too.

“I actually do”, I snarl back, not amused at all by his behavior. I should have never answered his questions in the first place, just acting like I have no idea who he is. On the other hand it is hard to overlook the person who played such a big role in my career.

He could have been the ending but he was the crucial part to my new beginning. Because of him I had the chance to retire when I wanted to. Two Olympic Gold medals. I ended my career in the best moment, at its peak.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”, I state affirmatively.

“Someone I would know?”

What kind of dumb question is that?

It seems more likely that he isn’t believing me and just wants to make sure I am not lying.

I owe him a lot in a cruel way, but I would never fall so low to ever date him. Regardless, I have a contract with Satoru and I will not waver.

For the time being Satoru is my priority.

At least this question gives me a little relief. If he doesn’t know about Satoru and me, he really isn’t an Ice Hockey fan. Good, one less worry.

“Well, can’t tell if you know him but Satoru Gojo”, I mutter, hoping it will be enough to get him off my back and leave me alone. I give the cashier my card and pay for my stuff.

“It doesn’t ring a bell”, he laughs, his eyes following my every move.

“Then you must live behind the moon”, I retorted and grabbed my groceries.

“Maybe, or he isn’t just that important”, he says with a shrug: “anymore.”

I foolishly neglect his reply and just walk out of the store towards my car. All I want is to get away from this person. From my past.

Once I sit in my car, everything comes crashing down on me. My hands shake and I feel panic rising inside of me. I shouldn’t drive in this emotional state, but I need to leave the parking lot. Away from him. Far away and praying that I will never see him again.

My mothers words come back into my brain. I could have lost my foot.

Because of him.

He is dangerous.

In the end I will never know if I had made history at the Olympics if I had told him to fuck off and leave me alone, not skating at the world championship. No one will know. By all means I could have recovered out of my insecurities alone and won a year later. Everything is possible.

But I did what I did and he did what he did. Risking your own career is one thing, but being a driving force in risking others, problematic.

Additionally to his acting of ‘fixing’ my ankle, his words were a big part in my win too. His degradation towards me made me want to prove him wrong. As soon as I stepped on the ice I wanted him to look at me and see me win.

Full circle back to my weaknesses. I care too much about what people think of me. It shouldn’t have mattered what an unknown man claims about me.

Yet it did to me.

Cut that crap! I will change. This is my second new beginning.

With that I start my car and drive off, not looking back.

I arrive at the rink hall, taking my groceries with me as I walk to the front door. Seeing Satoru waiting for me from afar makes my heart flutter.

I am safe now from the ghost of my past.

He grins widely, nothing evil behind it. Just Satoru.

I step towards him, he takes my bags from me as I don’t stop getting nearer. Pressing my face in his chest, I sling my arms around him and just breathe in. He never saw me as a loser. He always treated me like an equal.

“What’s wrong?”, he lightly chuckles and puts one of his large hands on my head, patting me like I have seen him pat my cat Todo. His chest quakes from his laughter and it feels good. It feels safe. Satoru knows me and at least some of my weaknesses and he is still here.

“I just saw a ghost”, I mumble, which earns me another quiver from him.

“A ghost?”

“Yes, but he is gone now and will never come back.”

“Did you fall on your head or something?”

Slight concern is in his voice. I look up to him with a cheeky smile.

“I got something for you”, taking a step back, I grab my bags from Satoru and rummage inside of one of them. It is too full, so I take a pack of baby carrots out and hand it to him to just hold while I keep on searching.

“Wow, I love baby carrots!”, he says with way too much enthusiasm. They aren’t his surprise, but I couldn’t resist my next tease: “Why, do they remind you of something?”

He laughs and we both grin at each other.

“I don’t have a baby carrot and you know it”, he adds: “As I recall it, you were afra-”

“Yeah, yeah I know! Don’t remind me, idiot.”

Satoru would love nothing more to remind me again of our night together, but I

keep him quiet by switching the baby carrots in his hand with a box of chocolates.

“Sorry to disappoint, but the baby carrots are for the kids later.”

“Kids?”, he frowns and looks at the new item in his hand. His brain is rattering to figure out why I give him chocolates.

“Yeah, the skating students you happily agreed on training for me. Did you forget?”

The frown on his face deepens and soon enough he groans.

“Do I really have to do this?”

“You promised.”

“Lie, I never did.” “Well, you said to Suguru that you promised me, so it is kind of a promise.”

Another groan, which makes me feel flustered, growing a bit hot in certain areas.

“Suguru and I will be there too.”, a small smile forms on his lips.

“Fine.”, he pouts and rolls his eyes, but I know he is just acting bothered: “But if you leave me alone for one second I will be mad.”

“I would never.”, I reply with a soft nod.

I take the ‘thank you’ card out of my bag and his brain is catching up to the premise. His pout turns into a knowing smirk.

“Do you have your wallet on you?”

He knows what I want.

“Always”, he hands me a pen out of his pocket. I open the card and go behind Satoru, using his broad back as a table to write on. He is nice enough to lean slightly forward as I scribble something down. I put the card into the envelope and

wet the glue strip with my spit to close it. Once I am finished I hand it back to him with a big smile.

“Thank you, partner”

He is all smiles and dimples as he takes the card from me.

“It was my pleasure”, he sticks the box of chocolates under his armpit and rips the envelope open to read my message.

Dear Satoru,

thank you for fucking my insecurity away ❤️

Sincerely followed by my signature autograph.

By the way he looks at me, I am one more step closer to finally get him to open up to me. A step closer to get our situation ruled out as a draw.

He puts the card back into the envelope and looks at me with tomato red cheeks. I gasp at this sight.

I managed to make the Satoru Gojo speechless with his own shenanigans! The ‘thank you’ card and box of chocolates were his idea after all.

“I got you blushing!”, I can not not make him even more embarrassed. This is the chance of a lifetime. I will wallow in it like a piggy in fresh mud.

“Shut up”, he turns his face away, but I take his beautiful face in between my hands to make him look at me.

A mistake because from the way he looks at me, he got me blushing now. I feel like in this moment we are just one more heartbeat away from kissing each other but as if god sent an angel to save me from my disgrace, the front door swings open and Suguru emerges. I let go of Satoru and took a step back, looking at Suguru now.

“There you are”, he nods at Satoru, not noticing me at first. I have never seen such an expression on Sugurus face. A grimace, a pissed off grimace.

“We need to talk.”

The last twenty minutes I spent on the tribune, next to Shoko as we watched Satoru and Suguru hammer pucks into the goal.

“Men”, Shoko sighs next to me: “Can’t handle their emotions so they have to act them out.”

I agree with her.

The situation they found themself in isn’t ideal but I don’t get the fuss. Toji Fushiguro didn’t sign an extension contract for the Rangers. It was a surprise but they could have seen it coming. Greedy athletes always change their team, especially if money is on the line. And if I learned one thing about Toji during my research, he loves money.

Surely losing a player is always shitty, but I looked into the entire team. There are so many good other players. He won’t be missed. At least I thought so, but as I voiced it Suguru looked at me with an offended glare and said I have no idea about Ice Hockey, so I kept my mouth shut from that point and just let them work it out on their own.

It was better anyway to stay out of this, because my father decided to make Toji an offer of a lifetime and he will be playing for the Devils from now on. Once Suguru mentioned this to Satoru, I got the death stare, like I have something to do with the shit my father does.

So I banished myself on the bench next to Shoko, now watching two grown men trying to see who can destroy their ice hockey stick the fastest.

“Want something from the vending machine?”, Shoko asks me.

“Nah, I’m good, but here”, I hand her my keys: “Just open it and take what you want.”

“You will never get those keys back.”, she declares and I one hundred percent believe her. “I will not forget about them.”, I respond with a light smile, but she just waves me off and walks away.

As I watch them play or whatever the hell they are doing, I regret not unfollowing Toji on Satorus account in first place.

With a big stretch I get up and decide to finally intervene. They could do this for hours to no end, but in around two hours ten kids will be here for their skating course and I can’t have two sulking men train them.

I step on the ice being totally ignored by the two of them. Granted, I am the enemy right now, well, I have half the DNA of their enemy.

“Does it really matter that he left?”

Both of them tilt their heads to me with an annoyed expression. I hold my hands up in defense.

“Like, is he stronger than you?”, I ask Satoru.

“No.”, a prompt answer.

“So it doesn’t matter.”, I get eye rolls from them - synchronous.

“Ice hockey is a team sport.”, Suguru tells me like I don’t know.

“Okay, and? What about the others? Aren’t they good enough?”

“That’s not the-”, I don’t let Suguru finish.

“Hakari never missed the goal, Higuruma always has a solid strategy, Kusakabe has one of the greatest defenses, Ino is an allround talent, Choso never misses a pass”, I pause, but add: “And Nanami just won the award for best goalie.”

They are a lot more players, but I decided to just go with the main ones. Both Satoru and Suguru stare at me like I am a freak.

“You learned about the team?”, Satoru asks, astonished.

“Yeah, for you”, I answer and oh boy, I didn’t mean for it to sound so tender, even corny.

“I mean, you know I should kind of know your team, right? Like it would be weird if a reporter asks me something and I have no clue, right?”, too many rights. I cross my arms and act nonchalant, looking everywhere but at Satorus plaguing and all-knowing grin. Suguru just peeks between Satoru and me before rolling his eyes but with a small smile.

“Anyway”, I try to get back on track: “Both of you are so occupied at being mad at a person who left your team for money, that you are the ones acting like Ice Hockey isn’t a team sport.”

According to wikipedia Toji is one of the best Ice Hockey players alive right now, but I certainly don’t need to mention this right now.

“You are right, we don’t need him to win the Stanley cup”, Satoru announces after a while of skeptical glimpses between Suguru and himself.

“Still he knows all the weaknesses of our team members”, Suguru thinks out loud: “and he knows the relationship between you two is fake.”

Shit, I forgot about that part.

“But like every other teammate he had to sign a document, he isn’t allowed to disclose that.”

“Come on, Satoru, don’t be dumb. He will never publicly state it but he will tell his new team and they will do anything to use it against you.”

“Let them try”, I chirp in: “we are smarter than them.”

I will end up regretting these words.

Satoru seems confident as well, giving me a thumbs up with a big smile. Only Suguru isn’t convinced.

“If everything goes down”, I skate to him and take his stick: “I can always take Tojis spot on the team.”

I hit the puck and scored.

“Natural talent”, Satoru grins.

“Yeah, sadly it is in my blood”, I shrug my shoulders, looking at his beaming smile. I am glad I got them to stop overthinking. At least for now. If they want they can have a sleepover and keep sulking the entire night. For now I want them to be ready for the skating course later.

As I was thinking of a way to cheer up Suguru, Shoko shrieks from the tribune. We all looked at her like she got bitten by a spider.

“You gotta be kidding me!”, see, I will regret my words.

“What’s up, Choco-Shoko”, Satoru skates towards the brim of the rink, followed by Suguru and me. Normally Shoko would glare daggers at Satoru for this name, but she is too occupied staring at her phone.

She alters her stare and looks with an open mouth at me before stuttering: “I have a girl problem.”

“A what?”, Suguru asks confusedly, staring at Satoru, who seems as perplexed.

“I need you, now, outside”, she points at me and I just comply, stepping out the rink and stomping behind her with my skates still on. As soon as we exit the rink hall and enter the corridor, she turns around and holds her phone too close to my face to see.

“Can you explain this?”

“Shoko, I can’t see anything like this”, I push her hand down and focus on the screen.

It is a picture.

Not any picture.

It is the picture from the supermarket.

The picture of Yuji and me.

The ghost isn’t gone.

But they don’t know anything about my past with him. For what it looks like he is just a fan taking a picture with me.

“What’s the problem, Shoko? He just asked for a picture in the supermarket”, I tilt my head, acting confused and certainly I am a bit.

“You know who this is, right?”, she proceeds to press the phone again in my face.

“Shoko, stop”, I take a step back: “again, he was just asking for a picture. I didn’t ask for his ID or anything.”

Why do I have the feeling I made a huge mistake.

Why can’t this ghost stay in my past?

Shoko looks at me like I am a pink elephant wearing a tutu.

“You really have no idea?”

“No, I told you, he just asked for a picture.”

Who the hell is he?

Yuji, the pro basketball player. Did he have a scandal I don’t know about and taking a picture with him wasn’t a good move.

Well, lack of knowledge doesn’t save you from backlash, but Shoko acts like someone posted a video of me skinning puppies alive.

“Short and sweet, this is Satorus mortal enemy on and off the ice.”

Shoko explains dryly: “And you better run, because if Satoru sees this, he will use your bones to make a new Ice Hockey stick.”

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

Mortal enemy?

On the ice?

That motherfucker is an Ice Hockey Player!

I grab her phone and click on his profile.

Sukuna Ryomen. Not Yuji.

Ice Hockey. Not basketball.

Center player for the New Jersey Devils. No fucking way.

What kind of fuckery is this?

I feel like the last few days I got way too many situations like this, where I just get thrown under the bus, but this, this is next level shit.

He lied to me years ago and kept the lie running.

Well, I decided to play in his cards by not googling him.

Keeping him a mystery, a ghost.

Great idea, now he is back and alive, ready to jump me like a lion a gazelle. He kind of did that already.

I don’t care about Satorus hatred against him. For now.

All I think about is why he was at the stadium years ago!?

Was he sent by my father? According to his profile, he was already playing for the Devils at that time.

What is doing on?

The binding technique, the unknown pill.

Sabotage.

He truly was there to sabotage me. To end my career.

One hundred percent did my father send him.

I was getting more and more media coverage at that time. After all, I was a candidate for the Olympics. My father got asked more and more questions about me. He surely knew how to ignore them, but they must have bothered him. So much so that he sent someone over to sabotage my career. To end it and then he would have never heard of me again.

It all made sense.

But his little trick didn’t work, it did the opposite.

Oh, he must have been so pissed. So pissed seeing me win and a few weeks later announcing that I will be skating for the Olympics.

Definitely a vein popped in his forehead.

The door swings open loudly as it crashes against the wall.

“Here we go.”, Shoko takes her phone out of my hand and steps backwards, seemingly wanting to escape whatever is coming our way.

Satoru with his head tilted forwards, angry like a bull seeing red.

Fitting, I have a red pilates set on.

Behind him Suguru tries to entangle Satoru in a conversation, but it doesn’t work. Satoru stops right in front of me and I would do everything for him to just scream at me and get it over with, instead he is so calm.

Calm like the sea before a tsunami.

“What is this?”, he shows me the same picture I just saw a second ago on Shokos phone.

“Let me explain.”

“What is there to explain? You took a cute little picture with Sukuna. Anything else I need to know?”, he gestures with his hand fastly, something I have never seen him do before: “Like have you given him a quick update on how my recovery is going or I don’t know, fucked him.”

I was expecting a lot of accusations but fucking him.

“Satoru”, Suguru chimes in, in a warning tone, but even he is looking at me like I did skin puppies alive.

Satoru ignores him completely, just staring at me. His height was always intimidating but now it is fucking terrifying.

But I am too stubborn and actually really hurt by his accusation, especially the last one. I will not allow someone to talk down on me again. I have changed.

“Yes Satoru, right between the bananas and the apples in the fruit aisle”, the moment I said it, the moment I regretted it. Satoru is so irrational right now, he would take everything seriously. He snorts with a menacing smile forming on his face.

“I see, no denying.”

Different approach.

“Listen, I just told Shoko I had no idea who he is. He just asked me for a picture.”

There is no reason for me to tell him about my past with Sukuna. It has nothing to do with Satoru and the situation I am in. I will keep it to myself. I see no sense in telling him about it and making him probably even angrier for being so foolish to not looking more into that guy who nearly ended my career.

This is a conflict between my father, Sukuna and me. No need to drag Satoru into this.

“How stupid do you think I am?”, Satoru replies, not even listening to me: “I fell for your little act of having no clue about Ice Hockey because it made sense, but now it is just getting ridiculous.”

That hurt like hell, worse than my foot inside the binding.

Yeah, my life is a performance and I act like people want me to.

But I never acted when it came to Satoru. I tried in the car on our first meeting, but he saw right through me and since I was always myself around him.

“I was never acting around you and you know it”, tears start to sting in my eyes.

This is all a big misunderstanding and it could be solved so easily if he just listens.

“I just want you to tell me the truth and stop wasting my time.”

“Oh, you want the truth? I will give you the truth”, neither Satoru nor I should talk to each other right now. We are too emotional when it comes to the other person, but I am so hurt from his ignorance towards me. How can he not believe me? Whatever rivalry is between Sukuna and him, it goes deep.

“Even if I was that evil mastermind who lured you into a trap.”, well, fuck I lured him into a trap once, but he did it too! He isn’t a saint either, but to accuse me of working together with a member of my fathers team is too much: “What could I have told Sukuna about you, huh? How all I know about you is readable on your fucking wikipedia page? Because you certainly didn’t tell me anything half the planet doesn’t know about you already!”

I keep holding eye contact with him, even when I feel the tears flowing now. “How I only saw you train for like thirty minutes and I have no idea about your progress? I never asked you or anyone else about your recovery or training plan or I don’t even know what. I have no idea who you truly are.”

He doesn’t answer me, just keeps meeting my eyes, like trying to find something in them so he can doubt me again.

He doesn’t want to trust me.

I thought about trust a lot. How I have trouble trusting Satoru, but I kind of disregarded that he might feel the same way about me. Not fully trusting me and with a situation like this. I would have probably reacted the same way.

One thing is clear, he is hurt as well.

“Okay, this is getting out of hand”, Suguru steps in between us, tearing our staring contest apart.

“Both of you need to calm down! Whatever Sukunas intention was by posting this picture, he would probably have a big, fat grin on his face seeing you two go against each other!”, Suguru takes a deep breath. I look at Suguru but I still feel Satorus penetrating stare at me.

“Toji surely told them about the contract between you two. Sukuna will do everything to throw you off course, Satoru”, he touches Satorus shoulder to get him to listen.

I hear Shoko sucking in a breath and underlay Sugurus comments: “Suguru is right, it seems like he tries to get under your skin. Sukuna will do everything to keep you from performing your best. I mean he tried a similar play between Suguru and you years ago.”

I give Shoko a questioning glance but she just shrugs her shoulders. Whatever, I know nothing about Satoru anyway, why should it matter what happened years ago between the three of them.

Yeah, whatever!

All this talk about being a team and partner, fuck it. I don’t care. I was never part of his team to begin with.

I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care.

But I do care.

The contract means as much to me as I thought it meant to Satoru. It is my chance to come to terms with all that happened in my life.

My absent father.

My overzealous mother.

My madly ascent as a figure skater.

Maybe I should just really call a therapist.

I should turn around and leave, never looking back and forget the time we had. Just go into my room and lay in my bed, figuring my life out on my own.

However in the end I am not a quitter. I signed this contract and I will do everything to keep it running.

Everything is one big misunderstanding and I need to bash this in Satorus head. Of course my feelings are hurt because I feel like I have shown him parts of me no one knows and he didn’t give me anything back.

But there was a reason why he wanted me as his fake girlfriend. Me and no one else, because we understand each other on a level most can’t relate to. I need to break his walls down, one by one.

I like to think I had harder challenges.

Satoru exhales, taking in what Suguru and Shoko said. He rubs his hands over his face, pressing his finger into his eye sockets.

“I didn’t m- I need a minute”, with that he just leaves, walking to the locker rooms.

Silence between the three of us. I know Suguru will be the first one to say something, probably telling me to give Satoru some time and everything will work out after a rational talk.

Not this time, Suguru. This time I will do it my way.

Without another word I follow Satoru, Suguru calling me from behind to let him be. I don’t listen as I keep walking, storming into the locker room.

“I said I need a minute”, Satoru groans loudly, probably thinking I am Suguru by the way his voice sounds.

It is like a Deja Vu from another point of view. How he is the one sitting on a bench, mind going haywires and just done with the world as I storm into the room with one thing in mind. Getting him back on track.

I’m Sukuna and Satoru is me from all those years ago.

Well, it is debatable what Sukunas true intention was by getting my ass back on the ice, but I know what mine is.

“Hey, Loser”, I chuckle as I lean against the wall in front of him, looking at him with a grin plastered on my face.

I will use the same tactic Sukuna used on me. I will use Sukunas own weapon to get his mortal enemy back on track, but I will make it better.

The pure degradation from Sukuna made me go mad. I mean I nearly lost my career alongside my foot. What I would have needed, was a slap in the face to wake up and a gentle kiss after to make me realize I have worth.

Degradation and praise.

My weapons are better.

“What did you call me?”

“Want me to repeat it?”

“Yes, say it again”, his voice is so low, I start to get goosebumps and regret my plan. Maybe it doesn’t work on Satoru. Maybe we aren’t as similar, but I remember being mad at Sukuna too, I think I was only more bewildered because I didn’t know him.

“I said you are a loser”, my confidence slips a bit and he can see it.

I hate how easily he reads me.

“Care to elaborate?”, he grins back and yeah, this isn’t going the way it did with Sukuna and me. This bastard is enjoying this.

I seem to have forgotten that there is one big difference between Satoru and me and this is confidence.

My confidence outside the rink is all fake, while his’ never leaves. He probably never thought of himself as a loser.

“It is just a bit pathetic, don’t you think?”

Laughter from him, but if you listen closely you can hear the difference between his real one and this one.

I can pick up a bit of sourness.

My words got to him. I mean it is probably the first time ever someone talked to him like this. Someone he cares about.

Tell me what you want, but I know he cares at least a tiny bit about me. He has to for our contract to work.

“I’m still waiting for the elaboration, princess.”

I want to roll my eyes. Not even five minutes ago he accused me of being this evil mastermind and now he acts like nothing happened between us, like he can just call me princess and get away with it.

Okay, I will let him get away with it, but just because I have a more important mission.

“You got all unreasonable and threw a fit because I took an innocent picture with a man I didn’t know was your self-appointed mortal enemy. Hard to believe this is how the legend Satoru Gojo behaves.”

His eyes darkened and I think I overstepped slightly. Well, there is no turning back now.

What's said is said.

“You complain about not knowing me, but once I show you a side of me, you complain even more.”

“That’s not what I was complaining about and you know it.”, I sigh and change the theme, because I don’t want to start a discussion about this.

This conversation is about him, not about my hurt feelings.

“Anyway, I don’t want to believe this is the real you”, I walk over to him and kneel down in front of him, looking up to meet his damning eyes.

“I don’t believe it. You are smart, smarter than most people I know. You think ahead for your five teammates and know your opponents by heart. You are the fastest, strongest and most versatile player in the NHL. And you are funny and kind in your own way, so don’t tell me the way you just acted out there is part of you. Whatever your issue with Sukuna is, he uses your hatred against him to bring out a part of you that isn’t you. An irrational and cruel loser.”

Sukuna did the same to me and I didn’t even know him prior to that. He made me irrational by playing with my insecurity of losing and made me cruel by the way I ended up talking with my mother.

All these were my actions and I’m to blame for it, but everything would have turned out differently without him.

He didn’t make me the person I am today. I will not give him that. The irrational and cruel side he handed me will be bashed once and for all.

I won’t give him credit anymore for giving me my titles. He isn’t the reason I made it to the Olympics. I could have done it on my own, because deep down I had all the strength in myself I needed. I am not a loser.

“Did you google my stats?”, is all he says to me after I told him a lot of nice things about himself.

“Had to, it is not like you ever told me about yourself or your team”, my mouth turns into a thin line.

“I’m sorry, I saw red and I overreacted. Suguru, Shoko and you are right. He wants to get inside my head to mess with me.”

“He is afraid you will come back stronger than ever and beat his ass”, now I smile at him and I get a harumph back but with a light smile playing on his lips.

I would give everything to see him all smiles and dimples again, but it might take time.

He takes my chin in his hand and looks at me with his intense eyes.

“I’m really sorry, can you forgive this irrational and cruel loser?”

“I only see a rational and kind winner in front of me, but sure.”

“You will be the death to me”, he laughs and I’m glad I got the smiles and dimples faster back than expected.

“Come here”, he slaps on his leg and helps me get back up to sit down on his lap.

A small voice in my mind tells me to ask him if he was jealous of Sukuna in this picture. The fucking part in his accusations was rather random and I first thought it was to just randomly hurt me, but maybe there was a bit of jealousy. I should ask him, tease him about it, but it is going well now, I shouldn’t test my luck.

Even the best players run out of it and I tested the limits with Satoru enough for one day.

He pulls me closer and slings his arms around my back, pressing me to his chest and oh, his crotch.

“I can’t believe you are hard right now.”

I don’t know why I said that outloud but I did. Nuzzling his head into the croak of my neck, he breaths in my hair and chortles.

“Believe it, it’s the stress.”

“So you are hard 24/7?”

“Only when you are around.”

“You are such a smooth talker”, I giggle and hate myself for the way I react.

“I think red just turned into my favorite color”, he pushes my hair back to get access to my neck, kissing it softly. I feel his fingers linger on the hem of my tight shirt, ready to pull it over my head.

“Then I should better keep it on so you have more of it.”

He grunts and bites me lightly in the shoulder, sending goosebumps down my spine.

“Let me take it off, okay?”

Instantly I want to do nothing more than nod my head, but a thought crosses my mind.

“This wouldn’t be a good idea.”

Another grunt.

“Please don’t tell me you were serious with the one time thing”, he leans back from my neck and looks at me, waiting to accept a rejection.

I actually was, but now I am not anymore. The problem lies somewhere else.

“What if someone comes in?”

“A big surprise for them”, he grins widely.

“Not funny”, I roll my eyes: “I’m serious.”

“You are always too serious”, he brushes a strand of hair behind my ear.

“And you aren’t serious enough. Suguru could come in and catch us.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

I punch his shoulder lightly.

“It does! I don’t want him nor anyone else from the team to know about this”, I wave my finger between Satoru and me back and forth.

“Not to break your little bubble, but they already know”, I stare with a shocked expression at him, ready to punch him for real this time.

If he dared to-

“You weren’t exactly quiet the other night and the walls are rather thin.”

Now I wish he would have told them instead, that would be way less embarrassing. I grumble in my hands, hiding my face out of sheer mortification. Satoru just laughs, as always and grabs my hands, pulling them off my face. “It is fine.”

“It is not”, I pout. Is today my personal humiliation day? A new holiday I didn’t know about.

“It really is, princess.”

I didn’t want anyone, especially Suguru, to know I had slept with Satoru. It comes across as extremely incompetent regarding our whole contract. Our entire relationship should have stayed professional. I don’t want to know what Suguru is thinking of me. He had the most trust in me and I ended up sleeping with Satoru not even a few days into the contract.

I’m weak. At least when it comes to Satoru.

Wait.

This is the chance. A draw!

There is no insecurity for him to fuck out of my mind. He wants to hook up with me out of sheer fun? Lust? Whatever it is, it will create the draw I so desperately want to have.

I want to be on equal terms again.

“But we don’t need to anymore, you know. No more insecurity inside my head.”

Well, no more insecurity regarding looking at him and being close to him.

“I know, but I just want to be inside you”, he looks at me with a small, pleading pout: “No, I need to be inside you.”

I exhale a steamy breath. He is again at the hem of my shirt, pulling it slightly up, rough fingertips traveling over my skin.

“Don’t make me beg, unless it turns you on, then I will gladly beg”, his mouth is against my jawline, leaving a trail of kisses and small bites.

I nod and reap a ‘tz’ from him.

“Give me a clear yes or no.”

I shouldn’t.

“Yes”, and his lips are suddenly on mine, just leaving them for a second as he pulls my top over my head.

With slightly cold hands he squeezes my breasts, a moan escaping my mouth, which he catches with his. He rolls my already hard nipples between his fingers before choosing the one on the left side to close his lips around and lick. I whimper and lean my head back, giving him even more access as his now unoccupied hand enters my waistband.

“Angel”, he whispers in my ear: “Get up for a second, we need to get rid of your pants, okay?”

He talks to me like I am slow on the uptake and at this moment I feel like it. I’m in a delicious delirium as I stand up and hold myself up on Satorus shoulders. He gets rid of my pants, not we. In a swift motion he brings me back on his lap and kisses me again, his tongue asking for excess to enter my mouth and I let him with a small sob. I want to open his pants, but he grabs my eager hands quickly.

“I know we don’t have a lot of time, but you need to be a bit prepared, okay?”, again he talks to me slowly and I just nod, not knowing why we need to be quick.

…

The skating course!

Dragged out of my delirium I look around for a watch. Satoru catches me scowling and states: “Don’t worry, we still have enough time.”

I pucker my lips for a second but I ended up trusting him, not wanting to call it quits now.

And no, this isn’t just about me wanting this to. This is all about getting equal again. In my head I mentally make the note to let this really be the last time. After this Satoru and I will just be partners like we are in a law firm.

Before I can even write the note mentally down, the thought is gone as he wets two of his fingers with his tongue before stuffing them inside my mouth too. I twirl my tongue around them too as he pulls them back out with a blop. With his other hand, he grabs my butt and slightly lifts me up as I kneel on his lap.

Then he creeps his fingers at a slow pace up and down in between my fold to gather slick. I lean forward and lift myself a bit more up to give him better excess. Steady but so, so, so slowly he enters me. His thumb is drawing soft circles on my clit while he starts to move his fingers in and out. So slow like we are in no hurry, like he wants to torture me.

“Please Satoru, faster”, I cry in his ear.

“Nah, angel”, he presses a kiss on my temple.

“This is your punishment for taking that picture.”

I should have known he wouldn’t let me off the hook about this picture so quickly.

“Please, I had no idea”, I groan frustrated and sling my arms around his neck for support as I start to move my hips, trying to create speed and friction on my own. My plan failed as Satoru keeps my hips in place with his other arm around my waist now.

“Should have thought about that before taking a picture with a random man.”

He can’t be serious, right?

How am I supposed to know Satoru has a mortal enemy out there, who out of nowhere appears in front of me at the supermarket.

Sukuna called it fate, but what was it really?

With a light bite in my cheek, Satoru brings me back to the present as his fingers once again enter me lazily.

“This is unfair”, I complain against his neck, thinking if I touch him more it will make him more excited, giving me what I want.

My hands wander under his shirt, along his hard abs to his nipples, stroking them slightly. That move earned me a rough exhale from him between shut teeth.

“Just promise me one thing.”

“Everything, I will promise you everything”, I am so desperate to get off. I can feel the coil inside me building up but it isn’t going to snap at this slow pace.

“Whatever happens between us, never fuck Sukuna, promise.”

Again his insecurity when it comes to Sukuna and me. Is it really a jealousy thing? I can’t imagine Satoru ever being jealous of someone.

“I promise, really, I will always be on your team even if you don’t want me to.”

He looks at me with an amazed grimace before locking our lips again, finally speeding up. The lazy circles on my clit turn into rougher ones as his fingers pump into me. I breathe heavily into his shoulder as my legs start to quiver and the strength to keep them up tardily leaves me.

He knows exactly where my weak spot is, as he supports my weight with his muscular arm, hitting the same sweet spot over and over again as his fingers work their wonders to make me cum. The coil that was built on at the slow movements, quickly grows bigger before it explodes and I cum undone around his fingers. My walls pulsate around his fingers as he lets me ride my orgasm out on them.

I’m out of breath but I can’t wait any longer. I want him inside me right now. With shaky hands I open his pants and lift myself up on my wobbly knees to pull his pants down. His erection springs free and yeah, no baby carrot.

Nevertheless I am still intimidated but I had him already in me and I survived it and even better liked, no loved it.

“Slow down, partner”, Satoru yelps out of breath as I position myself on top of his dick.

“No.”, I kiss him and sink down on him, feeling my walls painfully stretch around his massive girth. He leans back, pressing his back against the wall for support and giving me time to adjust and do everything at my speed. His eyes are closed and I know he wants to do nothing more than move his hips at an incredible pace to drill into me.

But he is patient as I slip slowly down his cock, letting out small whines, each one making his cock flutter inside of me. Once I am all settled down, I take a short breather adjusting myself.

Soon enough I start to roll my hips to let him know I am ready. His reaction was immediate as he grips my hips hard, boring his fingers into the soft flesh on my stomach and just fucks raw into me. I gasp and tears escape my eyes at the sudden rough friction. My eyes roll back as he lets go off my hip with one arm, laying it now flat against my back and gripping my neck from behind. Hand in my hair to keep me steady as he slides his dick in and out of me with loud groans. He has to use a lot of strength to not keep me from falling off his lap, but he doesn’t seem to mind, not breaking a sweat over this. His tongue moves from my shoulder to my neck, up my jaw to my mouth where it means mine.

I’m so full of him I feel everything so intense that it is mind numbing. Whenever his white pubic hair meets my clit, it sends a shiver down from head to toe.

“Maybe I will just mark you”, he bites into my lip before kissing me again: “Making it clear who you belong to.”

He lets go of my hip and grabs my jaw between his long fingers to make me look at him.

“Would you like that, angel? Letting everyone know you are mine?”

I nod and babble a few yesyesyes.

Surely this is all filthy sex talk, right? He doesn’t really mean it. I am not his.

“I could cum on your face and make you walk around like that or fill you up with so much of my cum your birth control fails and you will be round with my baby.”

Whatever he wants, he can have and I make sure to tell him that as I wail into the palm of my hand to keep myself quiet.

This time we aren’t team players as we both chase our own release. His thrusts get sloppier as he supports my legs with his hands so I don’t break down on him. My chest is pressed against his, since I lost the power to uphold my body on its own. Before I lose my strength completely I climax and my head falls heavy on his shoulder as I start to see stars behind my closed eyes.

“No one fucks you so good.”

I’m not sure if it was a statement or a question, but I can’t speak anyway, so I just nod against his hard shoulder.

Feeling my walls open and close around his dick, Satoru slides one more time fully into me, his pubic hair chilling against my clit again as he fills me up with his warm sperm, twitching inside of me until he is completely milked.

My head is resting on his shoulder and he is resting his’ on mine.

I don’t know how long we stay like this, but after a while Satoru slaps my ass, making me jolt.

“Time to get ready, can’t let them kids wait, right?”, he pulls me up, his dick slipping out of me, suddenly leaving me feeling empty and abandoned. Carefully he carries me to the side, my naked ass on the bench now as he gets up and pulls his pants up. He picks up my clothes and grabs a few paper towels from the shelf, placing all next to me on the bench while I am still in a state of trance. He smirks at my fucked out gooey form and slicks my hair out of my face.

“I need to discuss something with Suguru. I will be back once the course starts.”

For a second it looks like he is leaning in for a kiss, but then he retracts and pats my shoulder like we are buddies!? As if his dick wasn’t a few seconds ago getting freaky inside my bowels. He turns around and leaves without saying another word or waiting for a response.

I got my draw.

But with the worst outcome possible. Being left alone, naked, with his cum leaking out of me and nothing has changed, I still know nearly nothing about him.

Sukuna is his enemy, but why exactly does he hate him so much? It can’t be just that he is on an opposite team.

And what does Suguru have to do with this?

I lied to all of them. I told them I had no idea who Sukuna was.

Well, that’s actually true to an extent, but I didn’t mention our past.

If Satoru can have his secrets, I can have mine too.

As long as they don’t come back and bite me in the ass.

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plitaka · 9 months

Text

Okay so because I’m gay and mentally ill I have decided to take it upon myself to go through Kafka’s demo frame by frame and overanalyze the shit out of anything I find interesting

It’s insanely packed with blink or you’ll miss it details so buckle up folks- this is gonna be a ride

Right off the bat she starts off with the same coin she also ends the demo with. This isn’t something that’s been part of her character so far nor do I think it has any real significance, so she just brought it to be extra and torment the poor souls she’s planning to slaughter anyway. Annoying dramatic bitch

Also just to get this out of the way now, this is indeed the Belobog museum, or at least its assets. The floor of some of the inner rooms, the staircases, the chandelier and the big golden clock thingy are the same, and in one of the shots you can clearly see the portraits of the former supreme guardians which is. Makes you wonder if they just picked the museum for grand dramatic interior or if she actually had reasons to have business there.

This. This fucking part is probably no longer than 5 seconds and yet, even with the video on 0.25 speed I had to constantly rewind and pause to catch everything and it still probably isn’t 100% accurate. Also I had to cut out a lot things because Tumblr only allows 30 images per post but like, you get the picture

“What do you see” over and over again as images of Rorschach tests flash across the screen so fast you barely have a chance *to* see. Personally I mainly see spider like things and butterflies. Among them are images are some flashes of the robo guards, which to me give the feeling of them getting caught in her web, losing themselves and their control to her mind games and technique.

Something else worth nothing is that this sequence is kickstarted by her throwing the coin and ends with it still in her hand, just thought that was an interesting choice

Before moving on to the next point, however, I want to point out the obvious irony of her telling the guards “don’t be afraid”. Truly words to hear from the woman who is incapable of feeling fear. And what is the name of the demo? Dramatic irony. We’ll get back to that.

Anyway, after that we see the camera pan away from her and over the guards as she uses spirit whisper. The camera movement is accompanied by a single rose petal that starts from Kafka and flies over the guards, which kinda feels like the visual representation of spirit whisper, a gentle rose petal innocently brushing across them as if carried by an invisible breeze

I wanted to make a joke about how her bounty is as large as her strap but seeing as I’m restricted in the number of images I can put I’ll just state the obvious and say she has the largest known bounty of the Stellaron hunters. I’m going to guess the only one higher than hers is Elio’s.

can’t be 100% sure this is what’s going on here, but the imagery makes it look like she’s taking a nice calming stroll and playing Vivaldi in her head while letting the guards slaughter each other, either by controlling them with her strings or with spirit whisper

Dozens of hands reaching out for her, trying to grab her as she’s cocooned in a vulnerable state, pupils visible. I’m sure we’ll eventually get an ingame explanation as to what’s actually going on with her eyes, but for now I do think this is a VERY interesting time to show them. She’s in a compromising position, she’s cornered and vulnerable, but she’s confident and cocky and always, always in control. To anyone else this would be horrifying, but she can’t feel fear, why should she care. Like genuinely this is terrifying imagery that in media is more often than not used to showcase or symbolize sexual violence of sorts and personally makes my skin crawl. I don’t want to get too much into it here I think it needs its own separate post, so for now I’ll keep it short and say that up until now, her pupils have only been shown in situations where she’s at a physical disadvantage (held prisoner at the divination commission, whatever this is etc)

Something a bit lighter to focus on is what she’s saying; “the silk is too fragile to be a treat… unless you’re more fragile than the silk.” Symbolism aside she always seems to refer to silk when talking about fragile things, which we know are, in her opinion, the most beautiful. I really don’t think she’s referring to herself here seeing as the next scene demonstrates she’s far from fragile, so I think she does mean it in a much more literal way and is talking about a spider web; too fragile to capture humans, strong enough to capture its intended prey, this being weaker bugs. All in all she’s probably insulting them by comparing them to bugs weaker than a fragile silk web.

Nothing much to say about the fight scene other than that it’s incredibly choreographed and confirms that Kafka is strong enough to roundhouse kick a guy in the head (god I wish that were me) and do backflips in midair while firing her guns. Also the elevator counting down the survivors as their forces dwindle is fucking rad.

“Destiny has thousands of faces, why does it choose to wear this one?” In the context of the scene this reads to me as her mockingly lamenting the guards’ fate as she beautifully takes them down one by one, but it’s also one hell of a peculiar sentence from someone working for a guy who supposedly sees destiny and directs his followers according to that. She’s a nihilist, everything is predetermined in her eyes, she’s one of destiny’s slaves, but destiny also has thousands of faces? Is she really so nihilistic that even her own worldviews are contrasting in her eyes? As I’m writing this it makes me think of dadaism more than anything else. To quote from wikipedia: “an early 20th-century international movement in art, literature, music, and film, repudiating and mocking artistic and social conventions and emphasizing the illogical and absurd.” Kafka herself in an artist in many ways; she’s an actress first and foremost, always dramatic and theatrical, following a script to a T. But she’s also a musician, everything about her steeped in classical music and references. Anyway, dada is an absurdist nihilistic movement, and you know which real life author known for his absurdism lived and wrote parallel to the Dada? Franz Kafka.

Genuinely Idk where I was going with this I just thought it was worth sharing, MOVING ON-

Neat way of visualizing what I’m assuming is supposed to be her spirit whisper. Also I’m extremely stingy with images (thanks Tumblr), but if you slow down the video around 1:17 you could see that the shot of her katana very quickly flashes into another spider, just wanted to mention that.

These are all narrative screenplay terms that flash by in like a millisecond each after the big ult (that, btw, has a similar shot saying ‘intermission’ right before she casts it but it flashes by so fast and with such bright colors that I couldn’t take a proper screenshot of it) and shown on the Belobog Museum’s projector. The most interesting one here imo is Oneiric Structure; “a cinematic story using dream like visuals, exploring the structure of dreams, memories, and human consciousness”, very fitting considering how much of her abilitieseing how dramatic irony is yet another narrative device.

All these movie terms and framings, however, feel to me more like a wink to Kafka’s roots than anything else. This is the third time she’s been tied to movies somehow (the web event, one of her leaked messages that actually mentions how she’d hate for her life to be turned into a movie), and this is one time too many for me to stop denying that the inspiration for her character was at least in part Makima from Chainsaw Man. I won’t elaborate too much not to spoil the 3 people unfamiliar with csm, but this whole thing feels like a homage, a love letter to Fujimoto’s own love letter for cinema.

Also she *is* an actress following a script, so there’s that as well.

The demo ends with her taunting the one remaining guard with the very same coin from the beginning, flipping it in her palm and asking the guard to guess the ending with heads or tails, prefacing it by saying “sooner or later, the curtain has to fall”. To me this indicates that she sees life as kind of a one gigantic play, with no fear and no value for human life everything is a performance to her, it doesn’t matter beyond what’s happening on the stage in the presence. But also the way this is all framed makes it very easy to assume she’s actually talking about the end of the guard’s life, and asking him how he thinks this encounter between them will end, lol.

Another thing about the coin that Meadows mentioned “her flipping the coin over and over is both like, play with fate, a distraction (like, think in movies, you see someone flipping a coin your eyes are drawn to it and not the sleight of hand happening elsewhere), and ofc her clear obsession with vintage shit”

This has been it from me for now, too dead to properly edit through this rn so I’ll probably go back and add some details once I’m feeling better. Would also love for anyone to chime in with their own conclusions since this is just one person’s interpretation. Especially if you have more knowledge than me about classical music and have ideas regarding the use of Vivaldi’s winter

#honkai star rail #kafka #character analysis #More like demo analysis but whatever #And good luck to everyone pulling tomorrow!!!

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compassionatereminders · 5 months

Note

Asking for friendship advice; the last few months I’d been hanging out almost every day (online, mostly playing video games) with the same friend, and we’ve gotten really close. Lately, they don’t include me much anymore. I feel sad because I miss the closeness and also because the change feels so sudden. I understand that things change and people get interested in other things and it’s not their fault but I’m still sad about it because i wasn’t ready for the dynamics to change, they were part of my everyday life.

I’ve asked a couple times if they wanted to hang out but they didn’t seem to be too interested. Now they asked if I want to hang out tomorrow, and I’m a bit torn. I don’t wanna be a doormat and say yes to everything they ask of me while they’re not doing the same for me, but I also don’t want to be petty about it and say no.

I also don’t think i can talk to them about it, because it’s not their fault that i feel this way, i’m just sensitive. in the end I just want to feel important to them like i used to, hanging out or not, but i can’t make them feel that way. Usually when i begin to feel less wanted, I kinda just run to protect myself from the hurt and feel less helpless before we drift fully apart. but i don’t wanna lose this friendship. i don’t know how to react to it and deal with it in a healthy way though

If you don't want to lose this friendship, then I recommend that you agree to see them and that you try to have a calm, non-accusatory conversation with them about how you've been feeling and what you need from them to feel seen and supported. That's the only way to make sure they actually know what you need and feel and it'll allow you to find out whether you're on the same page. I know it's scary, but why would they invite you to hang out if they don't care to see you? And how can you expect them to respect feelings and needs you haven't communicated to them?

#chat with kat

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pebiejeebies · 7 months

Text

A little (long) chat about Inanimate Insanity..

(TW: ableism, curse words *like one curse word but oh well*)

DNI if you support ableism, hate neos, hate fictkins/alterhumans, and the DNI in my pinned. Thank you.

This is a VENT/RANT.. if you don’t like my vent, simply DNI, or whatever.. I honestly don’t care.

By the way to not confuse anyone, I used multiple pronouns flexibly in this, so if you see different pronouns, it’s still me talking about myself.

(Prns used: I/me, Xe/Xer |!| Neos: Cab/Cabself, Star/Starself)

Read at your own risk.

Let’s start.. shall we? (Poll below as well, I’m interested to hear your opinion and thoughts on this)

So.. I love listening about everyone’s opinions (If it wasn’t clear already), though I hate reading hate comments, especially about things I really love, like object shows.. specifically.. Inanimate Insanity..

Xe was REALLY trying to avoid talking about this, and about the hate towards the community, but xe HAD to talk.. Xe had to see why, and now that xe sees why.. well.. it starts to make xe feel guilty that xe supported all of this, that xe enjoyed seeing cabself (cabby) get beaten up by ableism, and just thought that it was “a part of their story line/arc!” So xe just shoved it aside, thinking maybe they wanted to make cab very relatable! Since she has memory issues and such! (Which did make cab very relatable, but it wasn’t worth it at all..)

I was so gullible, I didn’t see the red flags AT ALL, and I was too scared to confront myself and actually read the hate comments. It’s so hard to see something you like so much turn into this.. ridiculousness. Why can’t I just stick to a STABLE community, that I RELATE to, LOVE, AND KIN?!

Can you imagine?! I KIN CABBY. What am I supposed to do when one day ii gets cancelled?! What happens to us fictkins when we get hate just because our characters belong in an ableist show?! I’m seriously worried, I wish I didn’t read any of these hate comments, but yet again, I would’ve never learnt the harsh truth, the harsh reality about everything.

Star has been searching, fandom to fandom, looking for that perfect fandom that star relates to, that’s popular, that’s LIKED. And NOW…

Star loses. again. And now star is stuck with a kin that belongs in an ableist show. Because it wasn’t stars choice, because it never was stars choice, and star thought for once.. maybe something star couldn’t choose (specifically about fictionkin) wouldn’t be so bad! What would happen if star found out star kinned a character in a silly show?

Well.. star found out alright. And star is not sure us fictkins will be accepted. Maybe I’m overthinking this and people won’t hate star/us, but star just can’t help but worry… You know? What if people shame us for being something we never chose to be? Especially when it links with an ableist show..

The real question is, do YOU accept me? Do you accept US? Even though our kin types belong in a bad community? Will we be allowed to interact with people? Or will we have to hide our identities because we might be in everyone’s DNI List?? (I’m genuinely speaking for all fictkins that have a kin in the show, I’m not only worried about myself, but about my fellow kins as well. I just hope this ends well…)

…

It’s honestly hard. I hate this. I just try my best to cover up the hate with things I love, and now, I can’t even deny it! The hate isn’t hate alone.. the hate is AWARENESS. ABLEIST AWARENESS, That’s so (im)perfectly hidden behind these fanon lies to make sure that it doesn’t pop out as much, and it did work.. for me at least.. but now the truth can’t hide.

Spread awareness. Share the truth. And.. maybe we can all figure this out together.

At least, this is what I hope to see.

Will I get hate? Probably. Am I overreacting again because I certainly love doing that? Probably..

Will I give a fuck about it? …probably.. but that doesn’t matter.

All I care to show is the truth. Whether you hate or love ii, whether you think I’m ridiculous or saying the truth.

Well. I think I’ve said enough, and if you don’t know why ii is ableist, (#ii neg) has all the answers you need..

(also tw for curse words, harsh words and hate towards a lot of things, so really be careful there. It really affected me badly when I read most of the stuff in that tag so if ur sensitive please read at your own risk.)

I guess it’s time for the poll.. maybe that’s what you came for, not sure, but do as you wish. Harsh your truth may be but I just wanted to hear it.

*id appreciate this if you reblogged <3 /nf, and if ur worried abt me, I’ll be fine dw!*

#ii neg #ii #inanimate insanity #cabby #cabby ii #fictkin #fictionkin #fictionkins #otherkin #otherkinity #alterhumanity #kin #kintype #rant #vent #Poll #reblog

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thomasshelbydrabbles · 11 months

Text

The Spy (6/?)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Adeline Taylor (OC)

Warnings: period typical sexism, series typical violence, period typical views of PTSD, period typical racism, blood and gore, angst, sexual situations, infertility, loss of child

Summary: Adeline and Tommy talk for the first time in two years.

**Note: This is a series, so you should read The School Teacher and The Messenger first if you want to understand everything.*

Word Count: 2975

Author’s Note: And here it is!! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list.

Birmingham, 1924

“You claimed she was Thomas Shelby’s woman!”

Adeline rolled her eyes as the men around her continued to bicker. They’d been arguing over her status as a usable whore for Tommy since they’d left the prison. It wasn’t exactly the reunion she’d envisioned, but seeing him was worth the bruise she felt blooming across her face. The way he’d looked at her though, that hurt more than she expected. Part of her wondered if his reaction had been calculated, designed to cause the infighting occurring right this moment. She clung to that thought because the alternative might destroy her.

“Oh do shut up,” Adeline snapped, pinching the bridge of her nose. “He was hardly going to fall to pieces at the sight of me with a bruise on my face.”

“Rather bold for a woman who lost her fiancé today,” Father Hughes informed her, sneer on his face.

“You assume I’ve lost a fiancé. No way of knowing for sure so long as you keep me locked away here, pulled out only when you need a visual presentation of your leverage. No way a man like Thomas Shelby would allow himself to be pressured in such a way.”

“You cannot be suggesting we simply allow you to do as you please.”

Adeline smiled. “That’s exactly what I’m suggesting. Not that I have much faith - ” she paused, “Sorry, not much for religion myself. You’ll understand why I don’t think you’ll take the wiser course here and allow me to return to the family.”

“We can’t do that,” Sidney informed her. “We’ll stick to the plan. As Father Hughes pointed out, we’ve a higher power to account to in this endeavor.”

Adeline snickered. “And that’s worked out so well for you thus far. Good to see you continue to bet on the wrong horse.”

“There will come a time when you are no longer of use to the men of Section D.”

“A day we all look forward to, I’m sure,” Adeline interrupted. “And of course, you’ve got grand designs about how I’ll suffer before I die. Perhaps you imagine I’ll beg you to offer me last rights so you can save my soul from eternal damnation. Sadly for us all, you can’t be rid of me yet.”

“You can’t be sure he’ll even take you back,” Sidney reasoned.

“Aye. I can’t be sure. But, you’re whole plan - the plan dreamed up by the illustrious members of Section D hinges on Thomas Shelby giving a damn about my life.”

“He’ll see you alive and well at the Shelby family fundraiser this weekend. You’ll attend with Sidney, as planned. A representative of Section D will make himself know to Mr. Shelby, and detail exactly what he is to do next. Of course, the Grand Duchess will also be present at the fundraiser. Her uncle insists on her presence.”

She hated the slimy, smug grin on Father Hughes’ face. The jealousy she felt bubble up in her gut she hated even more. If he truly had given up on her, the Grand Duchess’ parted thighs just might be enticement enough for Tommy.

“She is to be the direct contact between Thomas Shelby and our Russian friends. You - ” Father Hughes pointed at Adeline, “Are to remain just out of reach. Seen often enough to keep him interested, but far enough from him that he cannot pull you once more to his side.”

“A slow torture,” Adeline murmured. “I wouldn't have believed such a pious, virtuous man of the cloth capable of something so insidious. But to hear it from your own lips. I’m impressed.”

“Let’s not lose focus,” Sidney said, once more trying to maintain the peace.

Adeline wanted to laugh at the irony of that. A man more apt to start a war because he was bored trying to mediate conflict.

“I think Mr. Shelby is still very much enamored with our girl.”

Adeline slanted a look at him, bristling at the use of our.

“The fundraiser is for the Shelby Foundation, which supports the local school. The very school where you used to teach, if I’m not mistaken. Such overtures don’t speak to a man ready to sever his relationship with his wayward fiancée.”

“Wayward?” Adeline asked.

Sidney shrugged a shoulder. “Your neither missing nor dead. Everyone who’s worked with you understands how difficult you can be. Wayward is a rather apt description, don’t you think?”

“Indeed,” Father Hughes agreed.

“A more agreeable woman wouldn’t be able to accomplish the tasks you have set forth.”

“Agreed,” Sidney said with an amiable smile.

He poured a measure of whiskey and handed it to Adeline. Skeptical of his sudden good humor, she took the glass.

“We’ll go shopping for a pretty dress for you to wear. Can’t have Thomas Shelby forgetting himself, thinking he has any sort of advantage or space to maneuver. We must constantly show him what his own waywardness is endangering.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

For a grown ass woman, Adeline spent much of her time sneaking into and out of various places. She’d been forbidden from leaving the guest house, but she’d think less of Sidney if he thought for a single moment she’d abide such a ridiculous rule. Not when she was here, in Birmingham. As instructed, she’d gone and bought a dress. While the savvy operative in her wanted to find something homely to wear just to spite Sidney, the woman desperately in love with a man she wanted to have captivated by her won out and she purchased a dress specifically designed to make Thomas Shelby want nothing more than to tear it from her body.

Glancing around his room, she noted how little had changed. Her coat, wet along the bottom from the lingering puddles that seemed to always occupy Birmingham streets hung on the back of the door. Her shoes, soaked through, lay in a haphazard way near the door. Knees tucked up to her chin, Adeline sat waiting. On the bedside table, the last of her cigarette lay burning down to nothing in the tray, small wisp of smoke curling up towards the ceiling.

She heard footfalls on the steps, heard them move closer to the door. When the door began to creak open, Adeline felt her heart stop. Setting this meeting up, moving all the pieces, making promises - how easy that had been compared to this moment. Too many possibilities swam through her head.

The door opened. Tommy stood in the doorway, shadows from the twilight casting his features in stark relief. He stood there as a statue, only the smallest movements convinced her that he was even breathing. Their eyes locked.

“What the fuck are you doin’ here?”

She wanted to smile at the familiarity of the whole scenario. This space - his old room on Watery Lane held so many precious memories for her. Their first kiss.

“Last time you snuck into me bed you had a message for me.”

“Aye.”

Tommy nodded. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket. “Go on. Give me the message then get the fuck out.”

“I don’t have a message, Tommy. I snuck into your bed to see you.”

He took a long drag from his cigarette, eyes distant, unfocused. “I dreamed this,” he whispered. “After the Darby. Every night.”

“Tommy - ”

“And each morning,” he continued as he stepped into the room. “I’d wake up alone. Your spot on the bed cold and empty.”

The anguish in his eyes destroyed her, tore through her like someone was peeling the skin from her back strip by strip. She wanted to turn her face away, to hide from his gaze; it would be easy to play the coward.

“What would you like me to say, Tommy?”

Instead of answering, he threw the door closed. The sound of it echoed through the quiet of the house. She flinched at the noise. Her movement drew his focus back to her.

“I don’t know, Miss Taylor. After two years, what is there to say, eh?”

Another flinch. She clutched her left hand to her chest, the fingers from her right hand nervously twisting the engagement ring around her finger.

Tommy let out a humorless chuckle. He pointed to her, that same bitter smile she’d seen in the prison once more on his face.

“Were you ever mine?”

An aborted, wounded sound escaped her lips. Yet, Sidney’s voice echoed in her mind. You were mine first…Shaking those thoughts from her head she met Tommy’s gaze.

“You fuckin’ bastard, how can you ask me that?”

Again, Sidney’s voice mocked her, You’ve worn his ring, played virgin for the two years you’ve been apart...

“Answer the question.”

Adeline grit her teeth. “I never stopped being yours.”

She watched his expression. Saw how he worked to shut her out, to hold his anger tightly around him as protection. He might be able to do it. She’d always known there was a possibility…a version of this reunion where he didn’t - wouldn’t forgive her. Worst of all, she couldn't find it in herself to blame him for it. Were their roles reversed, she’d not be forgiving either. Didn’t change the fact that he still held what remained of her heart in the palm of his hand, just as surely as Sidney held her life in the palm of his. Damn them both.

He remained silent, just stood there and smoked his cigarette. Adeline stood from the bed, closed some of the distance between them.

“When you were laying in your bed, dreamin’ ‘bout me did you imagine it was my choice to be taken from your side, hm?”

“One moment you were there. The next you allowed them to fuckin’ drag you away.” Tommy glanced away. He tossed his spent cigarette on the floor and ground it beneath his foot. Adeline wanted to scold him for it, but didn’t. He met her gaze once again.

“Aye.”

“Fuckin’ Alfie knocked Arthur unconscious, nearly shot me to keep us from runnin’ after you. We outnumbered them. Would have been simple enough for you to break the hold they had on you. Only one conclusion, Miss Taylor - you wanted to leave with them.”

“Call me Miss Taylor in that tone one more time and I swear to Christ I’ll cut your fuckin’ tongue out.”

“Why?”

Adeline forced herself to take a deep breath. She met Tommy’s steady gaze, felt the burn of the ice in his blue eyes. Had attempting to protect him from her past brought them here? Perhaps. He deserved to know everything.

“Momento Mori.”

Reaching forward, Adeline pulled the pack of cigarettes from Tommy’s pocket. Allowing the smoke to fortify her, she began to pace in a small little line a foot away from where Tommy stood.

“I thought he was dead. Alfie, too. I thought I was safe, but I should have known better. Memento Mori was our code during the war. Sidney - George, whatever he wants to bloody well call himself, used that phrase when the situation became too dangerous to stay. Those men who came in, the ones who grabbed me, whispered that phrase in my ear. No one needed to die. If I’d fought, if I even hesitated, everyone in that room would have been dead. Better you alive and hating me than dead and loving me.”

“Still makin’ my decisions for me.”

Adeline shook her head. “You bloody stubborn bastard. Even with everything I’ve told you. Everything you’ve seen, you still don’t understand how dangerous this is. I’ll not apologize for saving you. I’ll never apologize for protecting you, for keeping you safe.”

“And there it is,” Tommy nodded to himself. “The woman I love, my fiancée, doesn't trust me to protect the family. To protect her.”

Adeline scoffed. “Trust you?”

With a shake of her head, she turned away from him. She took a long drag from the cigarette. Whirling back to face him, she jabbed her finger against his chest.

“The second you got sober enough to have a coherent thought you went to fucking Churchill and made yourself a Devil’s bargain.”

Tommy’s eyes narrowed as he took a step back.

“And how would you know that, eh?”

She’d never thought about how she’d answer that question. Part of her never thought she’d have the opportunity. She’d convinced herself that Sidney would kill her when he was done with her. As she’d told Campbell years ago, women like her were guaranteed one thing in life and that was to die bloody, wrung out - useless. That’d be her tombstone: Here Lies Arke: Useless.

He deserved to know. Even if he hated her for it. It’d been many years since she’d been this desperate to lie to someone. She knew the likelihood of him forgiving her was slim, had known that all along. Yet standing here in his room, facing the reality of it? Nothing felt worse. Squaring her shoulders, she looked up at him.

“About six months after Sidney took me, I figured out a way to get word out that I was alive. I hadn’t managed to find a way to come home. I couldn’t. Not while Sidney breathed. That was my mistake the first time. Instead of verifying for myself, I believed rumors and reports about his death. Allowed my joy at his demise to cloud my judgment. Not again. Not ever again. I sent word through the IRA to Alfie, to Isaiah - ”

She paused at his startled hiss of breath. She knew that dark look in his eye.

“You’ll leave that boy alone, Thomas Shelby. It’s me you're angry with, and rightly so. I couldn’t risk direct or indirect contact with you. Sidney had his people everywhere, and I knew if he caught even a hint that I had reached out to you…well, you’d all be dead. Anyone with the last name Shelby. Anyone associated with the Peaky Blinders. All dead. You’ll scoff. Tell me there’s no way that would happen because Thomas fucking Shelby rules the whole world, and no one would dare cross him. And that’s why I couldn't risk it. You’re not invincible. Men like Sidney are too well connected, too political. I knew Alfie would keep you in the dark. Took a bit of a wager on Isaiah, but he’s a good lad. Knows good sense.”

Adeline threw her spent cigarette on the floor, ignoring the way her hands shook.

“Didn’t expect Michael and Isaiah to show up. They’re the ones who told me about what you’d done, about your foolishness. Good boys. Of course, Alfie’s the one who helped them track me down. Meddling Jewish fool. After that, I couldn’t allow them to risk in person contact. We relied on carefully coded notes with minimal details about anything personal or important. Then we were in France, and Russia because of course Alfie was fucking right, as usual and Sidney is Russian, so he’s involved in this whole mess of Reds and Whites, then I learn that you’ve gone to Churchill and gotten yourself involved in the Russian’s bloody mess. Now they’re using me as a pawn to make sure you stay in line and do exactly as you're told.”

Tommy nodded, the movements abrupt. He raked a hand through his hair before locking his eyes with hers. Adeline’s breath caught. They were so blue, and they still held her as captive as they always had. She’d missed him so much it hurt, and standing here this close…she missed him all the more. Oh how she’d feared this day. The day when it was all too much. When he found the transgression he couldn’t, wouldn’t forgive. Worst of all, she couldn’t even blame him.

“Two years,” Tommy began, voice low, carefully controlled. “You’ve known everythin’ I’ve been doin’ for two years, and not a single word to me.”

Adeline wanted to shake him. Everything she’d told him, and that’s what he focused on. As though she could forget the time. As though she hadn’t died each day since they’d been apart.

“I spent two years worryin’ about you. Not knowin’ if you were alive, or - ”

Tommy clenched his hand into a fist, grit his teeth.

“Two fuckin’ years!”

She startled at the volume of his voice. Her own eyes narrowed. She took a step closer to him.

“Aye,” Adeline screamed back. “745 fuckin’ days!”

Staring at him, her chest heaved. Tommy stared back; his blue eyes piercing.

“745 days,” she whispered.

She fought back the tears that threatened to stream down her face. Not that she minded the thought of crying in front of him, not anymore, but she feared if she gave in now, if she allowed even one tear to fall, she’d never stop.

“Might be 746 by now,” Adeline noted absently, eyes peering out the window into the darkness.

Looking back at Tommy was a mistake. She’d not seen him look so defeated. Anger spent, at least for now, he appeared to her…un-moored. Like a boat adrift in the Cut, loose, but dangerously close to crashing against the bank. Floundering now that the reality of her standing in front of him settled around his shoulders. It was as though he finally believed she stood before him, not some specter he’d conjured in his dreams. She understood the feeling. Seeing him in that prison cell…feeling his eyes on her - nothing could have prepared her for that moment.

Tommy closed the distance between them, his fingers gently traced the edges of the bruise on her face. Leaning into his touch, she bit back the sound of pain that wanted to escape her lips. She’d not allow him to end this connection over something so trivial as pain. The bruise, like all the ones before, would heal. Tommy touching her as though she mattered to him - that she needed like oxygen.

“Tell me how to fix us,” Adeline begged, voice a whisper.

Part 7

Master List

Tag List: @stevie75 @muhahaha303 @highgardenrosexx @dolllol2405

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #thomas shelby x oc #tommy shelby x oc

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zestydistress · 5 months

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The song Home from the Beetlejuice musical has me HEARTBROKEN and I need to explain why and my interpretations of it.

Mama, I could use some help here Tired of talking to myself here

She knows that if her mom was nearby she would see her, it's an infinite abyss of nothingness. Despite that, she feels like maybe, maybe if she calls for her she will come. She's tired. She's been alone, talking to the wind, for months, hoping and praying for a sign from her mom that maybe, just maybe, she isn’t alone.

Back at home, you don't exist So here I am in the abyss

She knows her dad. He’s stubborn, just like her. He will NEVER talk about dead mom. EVER. The only reason he does is to tell her to move on, and that's HIS way of grieving. To move forward and put on a brave face. He still thinks about her constantly, in everything. She was his world too. But he NEVER talked about her, because it hurt too much. It made her feel invisible, the one thing she felt she could talk to him about at all, and he pushed her away. He never had an interest in her or her mom’s love for the macabre, but he still loved them. But now, they can’t talk because they don’t know each other. They never knew each other. So, she is in the abyss. She feels like she NEEDS her mom back. Dead mom is the only one who understood her, the only one who talked to her, the only one who SAW her.

Are you really in this place? It's like the emptiness of space I could search for all eternity And never see your face

She’s confused on how anyone could be here for eternity. She doesn’t see how anyone can be here, and Miss Argentina had told her that they are there FOREVER. No leaving for the surface world, nothing. Just the infinite abyss. Forever. She’s uncertain if she will actually find her mom here. She doesn’t know if this whole thing will be for naught.

Help me out I'm lost without you Standing Stuck on this impossible road No idea which way to go Whichever path I choose I lose, you know And I don't know which way's home I don't know which way's home

Exactly what she said. She’s lost without her, and stuck. Stuck with making the only decision she thinks she has: 1. Hunt her down to the ends of the netherworld just for the chance to see her face one last time, or 2. Go back home with her dad, and be forced to remain silent about dead mom forever. Or even worse… forget her. She NEVER wants to forget her. And whichever path she chooses, she loses. She can’t stay here, in the netherworld, to hunt her down. She can’t. She’ll literally die, one way or another. No liquids are allowed, she’ll die of dehydration, it doesn’t say no food is allowed but I would assume they don’t eat. And whatever path she takes, she’s not sure which one would be home. Going back with her dad? It’s not home. No place is home without her mom there in any form. But being stuck nowhere? Chasing after a concept she’s built of her dead mom who might not even be in the netherworld? That sounds more like hell than home. It’s a lose-lose. Either way, she will be suffering. Either way, she knows she will be without her family.

You always saw life as a game But since you left, it sucks to play I'm beaten up and bruised Confused by rules that alter every day

She doesn’t understand other people. No one was like her mom, and everyone has different and altering social rules. And that's just with other people, it could very well be the rules Charles alters every single day, refusing to discuss anything and everything about dead mom. Avoiding her, avoiding being an actual father.

Where to next? You left but I'm still standing Spinning on this infinite road Terrified of letting you go No light above and there's no hope below And I don't know which way's home

Spinning on this infinite road meaning she can’t make a decision, turning between the fork in the road and never seeing the end. Never seeing a happy ending. She is terrified. She’s a teenager. She can’t let go of Emily. She was the only one who saw her. No light above meaning there is no light without her mom there, above in the living world. According to the cut song “Mamma Would” Lydia described her mom as “as bright and as warm as the sun”. There would be no light above, and there would be no hope below. A desolate place such as the netherworld would destroy her if she stayed to search for her mom. There’s already no hope of finding her anyway, she’s gone. Stuck in the infinite abyss of nothingness. Like Juno said, “Whatever you think you’re looking for, you’re not gonna find it.”

Mom, I've got my heart in my hand Speak to me and I'll understand One little word to know I'm not alone And show me the way back home Is there a way back home?

She’s desperate. Clinging onto any hope at all that her mom is there and present, like she used to be. She desperately wants to hear her, to have her tell her the solution, to explain things, to be there. She knows, deep down, that she won’t find her, but she hopes. She has her heart in her hand and she’s begging for her to respond. Just one little word so she knows.

The nothingness ahead of me Is this the end you meant for me?

She knows her mom never meant for anything like this to happen, she knows dead mom would never want this for her daughter. But still, she can’t help but question her. Ask. Is this what you wanted? Is there a way to be together again? You didn’t want this ending for me, but did you want us to be here, together? Is there a way for me to feel complete again with me in your arms?

Every living minute There's no home without you in it

As she says. There’s no home without her, but there is no home without everyone else either. She still associates home back in New York, with her mom and dad. She still wants that life back. She doesn’t want things to change, she doesn’t want to have new people in her life, she just wants her mom. Even if she cares for those new people, she would be willing to leave them all if her mom just heard her call and asked it of her.

I'm falling, quit stalling Your daughter is calling your name I've burned all my bridges and came

She’s desperate, on her last thread of hope, and she KNOWS her mom won’t come, but she’s trying. She’s desperately begging and crying for her mom to come. Maybe she feels a little betrayed. She feels as if, maybe, her mom IS hearing her. Quit stalling. Come home. Your DAUGHTER is calling your name, PLEASE come back. You always heard her call before, even when she never thought you would. So hear her now. HEAR HER.

She feels as if she’s burnt all her bridges, destroyed her ties with everyone she loves, even those at arms length, just to see her mom again. She NEEDS to see her again. She’s calling. She’s desperate. She needs her mom.

(Charles’ speech is heartbreaking too, just imagining losing the love of your life, and having no idea how to process it, so you shut down and push forward. You refuse to acknowledge the loss because it’ll hurt more if you do. But you’re also pushing away your daughter, and perhaps that's because she reminds you so much of your wife. As Lydia described herself in “Dead Mom”, “I’m your clone, your strange creation.” so it’s safe to assume they look almost identical. And maybe, he started pushing her away a little because of that. He reminds her so much of her mom, and it hurts. It hurts to look at an almost carbon copy of his love, and she’s loved in a different way but still a part of his world, and talk about how much the loss of his wife hurts. But he needs to. He’s always pushed her away according to a cut song called “A Little More Of Your Time.” He was afraid he would mess up as a father ever since the day she was born. He was terrified that he wouldn’t be enough, so he forced himself into his work and just earned that dime. He didn’t spend much time with her at all before her mother passed, and when she did pass, he couldn’t stand not knowing his daughter. So, he got her a life coach, someone who takes care of her for him. Who he fell for, and he hoped that she could be Lydia’s new mom. Which Lydia felt he was replacing her mom, but that's another rant-)

I'm gonna go back home Adam, Barbara, Delia and Dad It's messy but they're all that I have

In Dead Mom, Lydia says “You won’t believe the mess that we’ve become” in a negative way, and here, she explains that these people are her home, whether she realized that before or not. And even though it’s messy and convoluted, they’re all she has. And she loves them. It’s positive here.

I'll make the best of being flesh and bone Mama, I'm going home

I love the line “I’ll make the best of being flesh and bone” because it feels like she’s choosing life. She’s choosing to make the best of life, and people. And it feels like she’s listening to what Miss Argentina said in "What I Know Now" “I would ride the highs and cherish the lows, knowing it's a quick trick 'round the rodeo. So before they lower the curtain, be certain to enjoy the show” It feels like she’s confirming, yes, I’ll make the best of being flesh and bone, I will ride the highs and cherish the lows now that I know the ending of our lives. And she leaves with one final goodbye, telling her mom, just one last time, that she was going home. That she had a home and she knew where to go now. And while she’ll always miss her every day, she left her family behind and she’s going home now.

TLDR: The Beetlejuice Musical has me heartbroken and I can't move on.

#beetlejuice broadway #beetlejuice the musical #Beetlejuice #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice musical home #beetlejuice home #lydia deetz #emily deetz #charles deetz

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reficu1 · 2 years

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The reader is the ultimate psychic, and they summon the souls of their dead classmates.

possible longing

Lately, I've been feeling cold. Intense cold. Despite the fact that we are on an island where it is hot, I feel cool. This can only mean one thing. The souls want to talk to me, but they can't. Yes, and others do not feel very well. They complain about bad dreams that do not allow them to sleep, losing their morale.

“Guys! Can you smell this? As if Teruteru is in the kitchen, cooking something,” trying to convey his feelings to his friends all morning.

“It just smells like food, I don’t see anything strange in that, we’re in the dining room,” Fuyuhiko replies, so that she calms down already.

“But,” she wanted to say something.

“I agree with Fuyuhiko, you have it from lack of sleep,” supports Soda, who for some reason has been standing on the threshold all this time. The gymnast changes her face and is silent.

“Akane, let's go to the kitchen,” you don't tell the reason why you are going there, although others think that Y/N will start a song about his afterlife again.

“...” silently nods and you leave the dining room, and are left alone.

You want to tell her everything right now that you did last night, but you decide it’s better to check, otherwise they will again be considered a sick fan. In front of the door you hear strange sounds, it feels like they are cooking there. Akane does not understand anything and looks at you, and you look at the closed door with surprised eyes and as if you are about to cry, but you hold back your tears. You point to the handle, the friend makes a fearless face and abruptly opens the door.

“A!” familiar voice and this silhouette is heard.

“C-chef!?” Akane wonders.

“Well, who else?” Is distracted from the pan, “but I thought you would be glad to see me, or maybe you didn’t miss me, but the pod?”

“Hey, you're dead! Do you want to be in a coffin again?” Begins to knead his fists, approaches menacingly.

“Enough!” Two voices are heard at once, and Nidai and Byakuya emerge from the shadows. The first goes to Akane, the second to Teruteru.

“Akane, you can’t be left alone, you immediately dismiss your hands,” I was about to start the lecture, but interrupted him like that.

“Nidai! You came to me to read the nations?” Does, an offended face, “you rebelled to train me ?!” you feel that she would like to say something else, but she cannot because of those present.

“Watch the meat, it can burn like that,” Byakuya stands over Teruteru’s soul, and he tries to fix everything.

“I’m very glad that yesterday’s ritual worked out,” you decide to distract Twogami so that he leaves Hanamaru.

“I agree, I used to think it was some kind of nonsense,” Byakuya answers, after that he starts looking for something in his pocket, having found it, quickly runs through it, “we got here in pairs, groups, and someone alone. Can you bring certain people to such and such a place?”

“Of course I can, I started it all, I'm behind this and steer,” he liked your answer and you get the information.

You run out of the building to quickly find the others. You go into the cafeteria in the hope that someone will be there. It was, but he just wanted to leave.

“Where's Akane?" Fuyuhiko immediately notices you.

“It remains in the kitchen, but now you need to go to the beach, urgently!” You take him by both hands and look into his eyes.

“Don’t be so emotional,” you release the yakuza, “by the way, I myself was going there, it feels like I have to be there.”

“Yes? Well, let's go well,” go out together, you accompany him to the gate and immediately notice Hajime. You wave your hand to Fuyuhiko to go on alone and he leaves.

“Hinata! Come here!” You call the guy, he immediately responds and goes to you.

"Good morning Y/N, are you okay?" Hajime asked.

“Even very well!” he was already interested in your optimistic answer, which he had never heard from you, “Hajime, you should wait for someone on the left side of the pool, you will soon find out.”

“Well, okay,” he quickly agreed, because he didn’t have much to do.

“By the way, have you seen Sonya and Souda?” You hope that he saw where they are, you just don’t want to look for them all over the islands.

“The last time I watched them was on a farm,” he replied thoughtfully, “but what?” I wanted to ask what you were up to, but you left him, after Hajime goes to the place where he should wait for someone.

Heading to the farm to make sure they're there.

Here you stand at the gate and hear someone's voices. On the other side of the barn, two shadows are visible, but there are much more than two voices. You decide to peep and watch the picture: Mikan has fallen again, and Hiyoko is saying something about it, Mahiru is trying to calm both of them. Soda and Gundam are talking loudly about something, and Sonya is rolling transparent hamsters on a tray.

“They are doing well,” you drop the phrase and go to check the beach.

Run close, but you need to be quiet, otherwise you don’t want to disturb anyone. The wind intensifies, you see two figures that are right by the sea. Peko and Fuyuhiko. They stand opposite each other and say something, constantly erasing the tears that flow from happiness to see each other again, but only for one day. Kuzuryuu pulls his hand to her hair to straighten it, but she just goes right through Peko. It's a ghost. He covers his face with his hands to hide his tears. Peko froze and tried to somehow hug her master, found a middle ground in the hope that it would come down to support. She waits for him to calm down and will wait as long as she wants.

It's hard to look at. You close your mouth so as not to make an extra sound and leave. You decide to check on Hinata. After calming down, you return. It became quiet on the farm, which means they have gone somewhere, you find them quickly. Akane runs along the fence after Nidai, and on the ground Sonya supports the gymnast, Hiyoko quietly eats gummy bears. Souda stands with a pink umbrella and protects the princess from dust. So engrossed that they didn't notice you. You pass by, stop at one of the villas and watch as Hajime, Nagito and Chiaki took off their shoes, put their feet in the water, enjoying the silence and the presence of each other.

"-Souda and Sonya to the farm;

-Fuyuhiko to the beach;

-Akane to the kitchen;

-Hajime on the left side of the pool," you scroll through what Byakuya said and realize that you are not on the list. A lump rises in your throat from sadness, but ghosts do not need to argue, if you are not on the list, then it is necessary. It's still insulting. You decide walk around the islands and watch from the side.The guys often changed companies to be with all the dead friends.And so the day passed.You are sitting by the sea and throwing stones into the water, as you hear that someone is approaching.

“Y/N-chan, I’m sorry we forgot about you,” Sonya starts first.

"You helped us gain strength and find peace for them," Fuyuhiko continues.

"We were reminded of you by Byakuya, otherwise we wouldn't have remembered," at that moment Soda was hit by Akane.

“Recall would,” corrected his Owari.

“Yes, I’m sorry, Chiaki asked me to do this, because they can’t hug us,” Hajime hugged you, the others joined you. It is so warm in their embrace and you feel that it has become even warmer. Open your eyes and see your ghost classmates following your example. The sun is already setting. Your friends are disappearing. Their time on earth has expired. And you all stand like that.

“Oh, finally I got out, I couldn’t follow you through the cameras all day and I couldn’t appear at your place either,” Monokuma looks at you, “why are you like that?”

#danganronpa #danganronpa goodbye despair #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa goodbye despair x reader #hajime x reader #nagito komeada x reader #gundham tanaka x reader #byakuya twogami x reader #sonia nevermind x reader #kazuichi souda x reader #chiaki nanami x reader

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citrusella-flugpucker · 11 months

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My Ship Unmoors from the Habitica Docks

((Or: Habitica Ban Speedrun, Sub 1 Hour, Luigi Citrusella Wins (Loses?) By Doing Absolutely Nothing (or at least nothing that would have warranted that kind of response from staff, seriously)

There was an anonymous asker on my blog in Feburary saying I should voice my concerns about Habitica on Habitica, and I wanted to let them know: I did it!

If you’re curious what I wrote, it was the following (slightly modified, as the character count my draft doc gave me didn’t match Habitica’s character count logic so it was over character limit):

So when I originally came up with the idea of making this post I thought I'd frame it like a two-weeks' notice for a job, a little ha-ha nod to years of my serving wench moniker… but then as time went on, it didn't feel right. So I'll just lay it all out.

I can't do this anymore. I can't continue being complicit with a staff that:

makes decisions that seem retaliatory and then disallows anyone from discussing it or their feelings surrounding it, even if other people remark on a way the community changed from it that they're confused about

uses alts (scroll to bottom and show the last images in the set) to artificially inflate staff post like counts to make them seem better-received than they are

fearmongers Socialites by implying they are witnessing bannable behavior and encouraging it

thinks that being anti-censorship is a personal attack

strongarms users into silence (but only tells Socialites, for some reason) so rudely that several users (including myself) asked for their tiers to be removed

changes the community guidelines so that if they discipline you in any way they're not required to tell you what you did wrong, so it's possible for you to be blindsided by a disciplinary action and have no idea what you did

This post isn't "relitigating" anything because litigation in a fair court implies the possibility for more than one outcome. I'm just sharing how I feel, which is something that used to be allowed. However, given that I'm sharing feelings that are something other than Shiny Happy People about something that staff would rather enforce a forgetting-of by silencing those who also want to move on but needed to work through their feelings about it, I'm sure staff won't feel the same way. I know from the fact that several people have been banned for saying anything that there's only one thing that will happen when I post this.

Since staff are more interested in throwing their admin toys at people who disagree with their actions than, you know, actually talking things out other than behind closed doors, I'm sure that this will end with me being muted or banned. I've made my peace with that, which is why my name is what it is.

I've made this post because, as a Socialite, I feel it's of grave importance that people have complete, accurate information to work off and with little to no word from staff this is the most complete info I can share in 3000 characters. My penchant for sharing my knowledge hasn't changed just because my tiers are gone; I've just accepted that there are far better, more ethical places to volunteer one's time. I'm sorry staff don't seem to feel the same way.

Thank you. For everything.

Staff liked it so much that this happened within 20 minutes!

(That’s a chat mute, which I am familiar with the basic look of because I once (twice, actually) asked for a temporary one specifically to get screenshots of it for fact-finding science reasons.)

And then within the hour, more or less without me doing anything additional on the level of warranting it, this happened!

(That is a full site ban. I cannot use the site at all. Very interesting that this kind of thing took 20 minutes to an hour to receive this level of action but I saw full-on (real) community guidelines violations sit unhidden for hours in the same chat as recently as a week ago.)

I expected this sort of thing to happen (to the point that I prepared and got basically all my pertinent user info just in case, but I hope it’s clear now why I waited until I no longer had commitments tying me to the site, and why I didn’t expect posting it to the site to be effective at changing anything. I’m not so much mad as disappointed at this point. The kind of quiet anger I reserve for a very select few things in my life, as it were.

Except for the part I didn’t mention yet where they also hid a post in a guild I owned (The Crystal Gems guild) that contained important information for the guild members regarding a temporary leader I was assigning because even if I hadn’t gotten banned I’d planned to stop using the site tonight either way, which meant a following post by someone else suddenly lacked important context and might have made it look like the search for a more permanent leader I’d asked about a few days prior was over. Someone had to clarify in my stead what that meant because the context I’d already provided was suddenly missing. That makes me angry because it’s even more needlessly petty than the reaction to the quoted post above that I knew they’d be upset with.

TL;DR: I finally posted about the state of Habitica on Habitica. Staff didn’t take it well and nothing is changing. -_-’

Screenshot of the version of the post that actually was posted to (and hidden on) Habitica under the cut. It does not have alt text but is nearly identical to the block quote above so that will serve as its image description. I’ll add here that my name had been changed from “citrusella, the serving wench💔” to “💔 the serving wench quits 💔” and my avatar is shrouded in black and red under a dark rain cloud (it’s been like that for months, but only because when other people started getting banned I changed my avatar into something I was comfortable with it being “buried” in, in case I got banned suddenly).))

#habitica #habitrpg #ponderings on habitica #ponderings on habitrpg #habitica exeunt

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joseefinwrites · 3 months

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How to stop quitting (from a quitter) - writing advice

Do you love writing, yet always find yourself losing motivation, inspiration, or even energy to write and create? Your wonderful ideas, characters, and worlds become forgotten when you lose interest in your work. But don’t worry, as a (former, and occasional) quitter myself, I found ways to overcome my annoying habit of abandoning stories, in which I had so much passion. And I would love to share them with you!

(Basically, these are things that helped me, when nothing else did - maybe you'll find these tips useful as well!)

Hello & Welcome! You have officially stumbled upon a fresh blog post by yours truly! I sincerely hope you enjoy your stay and tune in for future posts and events! You can check the original post on my website here, because tiny little blooger pluggin hehe.

Now, let’s get on with the tips for never quitting again! Strap in.

1) Don’t take it too seriously (at first)

When I started working on my current ongoing novel, it took me days before I actually began writing the book. Oh yes - I was working on it, the characters, worldbuilding, all the important stuff. But was it THAT important, when I was working on my first draft? When working on the first draft, you are supposed to have fun - even if you have the story plotted out.

During the first draft, you actually get the vibe of your story, and understand the essence of each character. You will discover significant parts of the story while you are writing it. If you plan out everything before you even start writing your first draft, you might lose a lot of that spontaneity. Things won’t make sense, and you won’t allow yourself to change anything, since you’ve worked for so long on all the details.

Now - when I started working on something that is not my “main” novel, my brain probably processed not to take it too seriously (initially). I simply wanted to write a (for example) post-apocalyptic story, without it being too big of a responsibility - too big of a commitment.

So I started writing. And of course, I had to come up with a name for the character and where they are from, but that honestly took five minutes. And I wrote and wrote and wrote, without even expecting to edit it afterwards or make more drafts of this thing. And it was so easy and, to my surprise, it wasn’t bad. I liked it. We’re so harsh on ourselves and tend to overdo our work, overwork ourselves, thinking that what’s easy isn’t good. But that is not true. After one chapter, I had the character’s motive, a simple idea of their backstory, and a basic understanding of the world they are in. Basically - everything the story needs - for now.

You see - as I mentioned already - this is normal for us humans, but we tend to make things much harder than they have to be. If you love writing, don’t make it just a responsibility. Enjoy it. Do it because you love it. Don’t overcomplicate it, or else you’ll make it an assignment - homework, which you just HAVE to postpone. Start easy and small. Don’t spend hours worrying about your story not being good; just write it. AFTER you finish your first draft, that’s when your idea of your story is actually clear. And even when working on the other drafts after that you may discover things that you didn’t even know were in there!

You feel like you can’t write because you’re stuck on a scene or a part of the plot makes no sense and you just feel like your characters don’t have enough of a reason to do what they’re doing? Just keep writing! Chances are - it will sort itself out as you go, as you create and give yourself more chances to explore the world you are writing about!

Remember, the first draft is for you (and maybe some trustworthy friends); you can always edit it later. Now just have fun and write!

2) Minimise research while working on your first draft

This might be a bit similar to the first tip, so I’ll keep it a bit shorter. Again - you WILL change a lot of things after the first draft - if you want to, that is. Research is an essential part of writing, of course, BUT, it takes too much of your time.

One moment you have proudly written three sentences in your brand-new novel, the next moment you want to look up how much blood a person can lose without dying, and suddenly it’s hours later, and you’ve been looking up the best names for a small Elven village. Now - I am sure that information is important for you, but is it important in the first draft?

What you can do is leave out the parts where you are unsure of something. Maybe put it in brackets, make it bold, write it in all caps. And then move on. Now it’ll be easy for you to see it later when you have maybe reached your daily word goal (which is also great to keep if you want to have a specific goal to go after) and you can finally move to the research part. Unless it is 5 am and you are getting up for school or work in an hour.

3) Keep your initial goals low and simple

This one was always a bit hard for me. But it helps, even if it seems a bit “too simple” at first. If you feel like you can’t just ignore all the details before writing and all that extreme research, set yourself a goal that you have to write, for example, 200 words a day or in the upcoming hour.

“Two hundred words? Easy.” Keep this mindset. Sit down and start writing. You hit two hundred words, and now you feel like that is not enough. After two hundred words, you might also be a bit more in the mood, I mean, you’ve been at this for a bit and you just got the gist of it again, right? And so you double it.

But the fun thing is that if you don’t feel like it, you don’t have to double it because you hit the goal that you set. You can make the word count goal higher every day or every week, as long as you keep consistent with hitting that goal AND keep writing, you’ll get deeper into your story and you get much more comfortable with writing it. And remember - when working on the first draft, the writing part is the most important! I will never shut up about that!

4) What do YOU love in stories? Put it in!

Again, my own experience as an example - I had a story that I really liked, but only because I was so proud of myself for coming up with something that I’ve never read or watched anywhere. But, to be honest, the story didn’t actually have anything for me. It wasn’t even my favourite genre. Now, that doesn’t mean that if you are in a similar situation like I was, that you have to abandon your idea. Just think of what YOU yourself enjoy when watching and reading? Mash it up! Don’t be afraid to experiment a little (ESPECIALLY WITH THE FIRST DRAFT, FRIENDS!)

Don’t worry about losing originality; your story will be unique because you’re the one creating it. If you’re writing romance and you have a favourite trope of the love triangle, but you are too afraid that it has been overdone, it hasn’t. You put that love triangle in and you write what you want!

Don’t write it because you think you should; write it because you would love to read it.

5) Don’t listen to “Clichés and what wE HATE SEEING IN BOOKS AAA!”

I’m sure most of you have had your ideas, hopes and dreams crushed by those fun websites with articles or videos like “Tropes that are overdone,” “Books we are tired of reading,” “Writing Clichés,” and such. And it can be so demotivating, especially if you're a person that tends to stay away from your writing. (I know how that feels, no worries.) The simple advice here is to just ignore those. No, there is no trope or genre in writing that has been forever overdone or overused and shall never see the light again..

Everyone is special and unique, and everyone has different views on certain motives. Yes, there are billions of various books, stories, movies, shows, and even if they have similar themes or tropes, they are all different in their own way. Don’t let your idea die with someone else’s opinion. Again - write it because you love it!

6) Daydreaming, Playlists? Daydreaming Playlists!

I love this one! Do you ever daydream about your favourite shows, characters, and books? Put your own character in scenarios from other works? Get comfortable with your characters by daydreaming about them. One of my favourites is making a playlist full of trailer music, since it usually is just so epic and I imagine little trailers for my story in my head. I don’t even care for my books becoming movies one day, but “watching” them like that in your head is pretty cool. You can even “borrow” your favourite scenes or scenarios from other works and just install your characters in there.

It’s super easy and super fun and makes you much more interested AND invested in your story. By thinking about it daily and imagining things happening in your own special world, you get much more accustomed and used to the setting of your creation and getting into writing will become much easier.

7) Be careful with this one - Pinterest, ArtStation, InspiRation

Now, this one can get tricky. As much as I love finding inspiration in concept art on sites such as Pinterest or ArtStation, I also must admit that it’s so easy to get lost there.

There's image after image, and they are all just so damn cool. I simply couldn’t possibly take all that inspiration from you! So set up a timer.

You know that you’ve set a simple goal of 500 words for the day and you also planned some researching/character planning/worldbuilding (whatever you wish) for maybe an hour or so later, and so you might know that you have some free time to spend doing whatever you want. So why not spend that time on - for example - Pinterest? Just be sure to watch your time.

On the other hand - maybe you’re currently just not in the mood for writing. Maybe you feel like quitting again. Well then you can spend the whole day on Pinterest, especially if it helps you get more in the mood of your story. When I can’t get a single word of myself, while writing my fantasy/science fiction novel, a day of searching through art of fantasy and science fiction concepts will definitely get me back in the mood.

It’s simple and if you learn how to manage your time and get inspired when you need to get inspired, not when you should be writing, it is most likely one of the many essentials in the process of creating a story. Humans are often also visual learners, so if it’s not in the words, you’ll find it in the pictures.

8) Breaks are essential, but the longer they last, the harder it is to get back

Don’t ignore your health. Whether it’s your physical health or mental health, it’s all just as important. Yeah, you need to stay consistent with your writing, but don’t overwork yourself. That will just make you disconnect from what you once loved. Don’t make writing your responsibility, take breaks.

If the breaks are too long, it might be harder to get back, but you know yourself the best, so if you feel exhausted, or like it’s just not “it” - take a break. (This doesn’t apply to just writing, but to life in general. Don’t forget to rest up.) Take writing as a form of relaxation.

ESPECIALLY if you’re working on your first draft.

Take the first draft as the “natural soup” you used to make as a kid in a puddle. No, you couldn’t eat the rainwater with rocks, leaves, and sticks, but it was the fun of the imagination that mattered. Your first draft might not be exactly publishable, but it’s your time to just get your thoughts and ideas out. Don’t stress it too much. If you have a full-time job or school, or anything else taking your time and you worry over not having time to write and rest, write as your form of a rest (only if it helps!)

9) Watch and read whatever inspires you and don’t shy away from - yes - getting inspired

I’ll try to keep this one a bit shorter as well, as it is similar to some of the points above. Basically - don’t be afraid to get inspired in your actual work from other actual works. Sometimes you get inspired from more works and putting them together with your original characters and places makes it something completely new.

You can get inspired in many ways. For example, the name of one of my fictional works (not currently published), that I initially didn’t plan on taking overly seriously, came from watching an 8-BitRyan gameplay of Dying Light 2. I was just writing down some names, while having the video in the background and there was a quick scene of a wall for the remembrance of people who have died, probably protecting someone. And the way Ryan read the sign on the wall which said “Thank you, our heroes.” just somehow stuck with me. I wrote it down and because I didn’t want to spend too much time with the details of the fiction (I just wanted to write) I just went with it. Now I love it, it stands out to me.

Read books, watch movies and shows, play games, get inspired and don't be afraid of it. It is only natural to be influenced by our favourite (or not) works. As long as you are not directly copying someone else’s work, you’re fine, trust me!

10) Simple outlines, swarms of notes? Whatever suits YOU the best

This one depends entirely on you. Are you more organised or are you at peace with your mess? For me, it’s a bit of both. But something that could help with not losing track of your story is quite obviously planning. You can just quickly write down things you want to happen in a chapter or things you want to happen in the story in general, don’t let it take you more than five minutes, take it as a fun exercise, especially if you are usually not a planner.

If you don’t really like the idea of “just writing” as listed above, you can write down simple things, so that you always know where to go, what to do.

For example, you’re writing a short detective story. You might already know that you’d like for the main character to die in the end. So your simple outline could literally look like this:

Introduction, the main character is a detective who was called to a strange small town to solve a case

The detective is thrown right into the middle of the town’s mysterious ritual celebrations

Murders happening, they are happening a lot

A first lead which ends up being a fake lead by the actual killer

The detective believes the whole town is behind the murders as it might be a part of the celebrations

The stakes are high, someone important to the detective is in danger

Confrontations, it looks like the detective could win, the town is innocent, and the real killer is found

Detective tragically dies, he’s forgotten and the killer moves to a different town

Don’t dwell on the details, but if you need to have an idea of where you are going, put it down. Put down all the ideas you get, keep a notebook close to never forget anything. Sometimes just brainstorming ideas, even if you have no idea “how” to plan (even though there is no correct way to do it) will bring you the best ideas. Be spontaneous!

11) Reward yourself (EVEN if it’s hard)

Whatever goal you’ve set and accomplished deserves a reward. Even if it’s 200 words a day from the start. You are consistent. You should be proud of yourself. Find little ways to reward yourself. This could be a bit hard, it is hard for me for some reason, but it all is about developing a habit.

This might sound like puppy training, but that’s alright - if you develop a habit of making yourself happy after being just as equally happy for hitting a goal, your brain will be so much more excited to do those things, knowing that you get to write, which makes you happy, and you get to reward yourself. Simple, (once you get past that confusing explanation), yet powerful. Be the writer puppy.

12) Share your stories (EVEN if it’s hard)

If you’re not the biggest fan of sharing your works on the internet on websites such as Wattpad, AO3, etc - you don’t have to take this advice. But if you don’t, posting your works online can help you with staying consistent. And if you post chapter after chapter and see people already interested in your works it can also motivate you to write more.

Remember that there is a story after story out there, so if your work isn’t noticed at first, don’t lose motivation. Keep writing and keep updating, and you will see progress. Trust me! There are so many people in the world who would love to read what you’re working on right now!

13) You are not alone, find writer friends, keep yourself accountable

The last advice I can give you is one that I myself am still working on. Find writer communities and friends. There is no one who will relate more to you than another author. Sharing the love for writing as well as the struggles of it can help you in so many ways!

Knowing that you are not alone and that you have someone who can support you, listen to you, while you do the same for them can really hold you above the water. A writer as a friend can inspire you, check in with you and you guys can simply make sure the other one is staying on track!

Well, we finally got to the end of this almost 3000-word article, which might be a bit too much for an article, but if I managed to inspire and help you in any way, it was definitely worth it.

Thank you for reading all the way to this point and make sure to check all the new posts coming soon. The official posting schedule is still a work in progress, unfortunately, but I hope to work on the best of posts for you and as fast and often as I can! Time management of a writer…) Share your struggles, views and personal advices as well, I alwas love to see how differently our little human brains work!

I hope to see you around again, unless you get lost in a world of your own, that is!

josEefin View this blog post on my website! <3 New posts coming soon, so while the website itself is still kinda a WIP, I hope to keep the blog frequent! https://joseefine.wixsite.com/joseefin/post/simple-writing-advice-for-quitters-from-a-quitter-tips-and-tricks

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more-thoughts-than-money · 6 months

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okay but that one episode in House where Cuddy is in the hospital and House couldn’t get himself to be there by her side to comfort her without reaching for Vicodin always makes me tear up so bad

when she finds out she gets pretty pissed

and it was always so fucking sad to me because they both knew that House wasn’t cut out for the relationship, and knew damn well he has a lot of emotional baggage

and it’s okay to hesitate when going into a relationship with such person, you have to be prepared for everything. and it’s hard to be prepared for anything with someone like House [and Cuddy is a perfectionist, she NEEDS to be prepared for anything in order to survive]

anyways, what makes me so upset when thinking of this is:

she knew he’s an addict and yet expected him to *just stop* taking pills cold turkey.

truth is that in my experience this medication allowed his brain to function and shut down his emotion.

i mean

i genuinely hc that he has ADHD

and it’s a very personal HC but i have nowhere to talk about this so yeah

but there was a couple of months in my life when i abused medication. in a pretty dumb way, so i can’t ever say i was an addict, because it was psychiatric medication, if i filled my prescription too soon doctor would know and as a 14-15 yo kid i wasn’t going to explain to my family that i’m abusing medication because my antidepressants never work and the doctor doesn’t bother to listen to me saying that i genuinely think i have ADHD

anyways thing is, when i ran out of the anxiety medication i abused that calmed my brain down (so that i could focus, and not be “dumb” in school)

i didn’t know what to do

so i went for my insomnia medication, since i didn’t have anything else, it wasn’t exactly helping me focus, but it would severely sedate me so that i wouldn’t be able to think about anything and then i could just skip school by sleeping for 13 hours or more

the only reason i stopped was because i was still underage and it’s my obligation to go to school. and i didn’t have an excuse for feeling dizzy other than “i feel bad, i don’t want to go to school” and then i would just sleep

anyways my point is i think it was my way of coping with ADHD, i think very quickly and am all over the place, careless and make mistakes when i need to actually apply the concept i’m thinking of

and it feels similar to why not taking Vicodin would freak him out and make him “a bad doctor”

for me having ADHD is like having a lot of energy that you have to put SOMEWHERE!! whether it be literal physical activity (hyperactive), brain activity (distraction), or both

losing the use of his leg only because nobody would believe him felt unfair, he had no control over it. and the anger (energy) and the lack of ability to let it out (through sports) made him 3 times as bitter, miserable and fucking unbearable (/lh)

also the need to pick up a hobby and putting your everything into learning it but dropping it once you “succeeded” and looking for something else to do hits close home

i mean yes it’s more of a head-cannon but he knows a bunch of languages (at least spanish, hindi and mandarin, the last two of which he is fluent enough in to read and carry out conversations) and its not even that he plans on using them, he just does it for fun, to keep his brain moving; and nothing else

he picks up physics because suddenly he has so much time to spare when he can’t do his work properly and hey, physics is hella interesting, why not learn it as well?

and that’s what i find myself struggling with, when i’m trying to stop emotional eating for example, or when i’m trying to stop overachieving at school for the sake of focusing on what i actually want to do

and that’s why i’m very depressed because i want to do so many different things! but i’m bound to waste 8 hours at school not learning anything because i either don’t care about it or care too much and the teacher can’t do their class without me talking with them all the time

on top of that; Vicodin clears out all the “useless things” including some the fear and distrust he has towards everything and everyone

when he’s sober and realises Cuddy, someone he tried so hard to break down all the mental walls for, could possibly die

it overwhelmed him, because he hasn’t been in a proper relationship in years

and that’s why it was so infuriating to see this

and i’m not defending House, because i know i hated him a lot of times during the time i watched the entire show

but he’s relatable in ways no other character ever was to me

#txt #personal #house md #long post #oversharing #cw substance abuse

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archiveikemen · 1 year

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'A Dangerous Gamble' Story Event — Premium END

[Yasuchika Route]

I do not own any of the Ikemen Series content being uploaded on this blog, everything belongs to CYBIRD. Please support them by downloading and playing their games.

read this before interacting with my posts

Yasuchika: Hey, Yuno.

I was surprised by his alluring gaze.

Yasuchika: I’m going to bet all my tokens this round. Will you reward me if I win?

(Reward… I wonder what he’ll ask for?)

I nodded in response to his suggestive words that made my cheeks heat up.

Yuno: … Okay. I will.

Yasuchika: Thanks. I’ll win for sure.

Yasuchika’s eyes sparkled brightly in the darkness of the night.

Yasuchika: Alrighty. I shall go get ready.

Yuno: Get ready?

Yasuchika stood up and approached the huge ayakashi waiting in the arena.

He smiled.

Yasuchika: Excuse me. Can I swap places with you?

(Yasuchika!?)

Giant: You can’t do that.

Yasuchika: I’ll give you this in return. It’s a strand of Shuten Doji’s hair.

Giant: …! That’s impossible to resist. I’ll allow it just this once.

(He bribed it so easily! Does this mean Yasuchika wants to compete as a wrestler?)

(But his opponent is…)

I turned my gaze onto his opponent, who was standing on the other side of the arena.

It’s body was made of rock and it looked really burly.

Rock Ayakashi: Don’t mock me. There’s no way I’ll compete with this puny guy.

Yasuchika: It’ll be fine. I bet all my money on myself.

(Will he really be okay? I mean, it’s Yasuchika we’re talking about, so he probably already has a plan…)

Yasuchika smiled at me.

Ayakashi 1: He’s that confident? This will be interesting to watch.

Ayakashi 2: He doesn't look very strong, though…

Ayakashi 3: No, I think he might have a chance!

The ayakashi seemed to be enjoying the current situation and were excitedly talking about it.

Yasuchika: Well then, I look forward to the match.

The rock ayakashi was unamused by Yasuchika’s unbothered attitude.

Rock Ayakashi: You’ve got some nerve to be boasting like that. Don’t start grumbling when you’re about to be killed during a wrestling match.

Yasuchika: Hm? Ah, okay. Got it.

The rock ayakashi’s facial expression twisted in frustration.

It turned its attention to me.

(Uh…)

Rock Ayakashi: I’ll kill that woman too.

Yasuchika: Ha?

I felt a chill run down my spine and the air around us instantly turned ice cold.

Yasuchika: What did you just say?

The chattering ayakashi shut their mouths, and the Rock Ayakashi flinched as if under intense pressure.

Yuno: Yasuchika! I’ll be fine.

When I called out to Yasuchika due to the unsettling atmosphere, his facial expression changed.

Yasuchika: … Really?

The tension in the air vanished.

(T-That was sudden…!)

Ayakashi: What the hell was that? Is it just me, or did the atmosphere change in the blink of an eye?

The ayakashi exchanged glances and whispered amongst themselves.

Yasuchika: Come on, decide who you want to place your bets on.

Upon being prompted by Yasuchika, the ayakashi placed their tokens into the boxes.

(... As expected, everyone’s betting on the Rock Ayakashi.)

Of course, I bet all my tokens on Yasuchika.

Then, I approached Yasuchika, who was waiting under a tree next to the arena.

Yuno: Yasuchika, are you sure that you’ll really be okay…?

Yasuchika: Just wait and see. There's a reason why I’m going to all the trouble of placing a bet on myself.

Yasuchika: But I think I’ll cast just one more spell, to make sure I don't lose.

Yasuchika’s face suddenly came closer and he gave me a peck on the lips.

Yasuchika: I’ll be right back.

Yuno: … Okay. Be careful.

(Since it’s already come to this point, I’ll cheer for you as hard as I can.)

Soon, the wrestling match began and I put all my energy into cheering.

(Go, Yasuchika…!)

The moment Yasuchika came into contact with the Rock Ayakashi, I thought I saw his palms and feet glow a faint purple.

Yasuchika: Oof.

(...!)

The Rock Ayakashi was suddenly sent flying into a bunch of trees.

It only hit me later that it was Yasuchika who flung it.

Yasuchika: Oops. I used too much strength.

The ayakashi were as shocked as I was.

Ayakashi 1: W- What was that…!

Ayakashi 2: The new guy won! Come take your bets!

(He really won!)

After we were done gambling, we returned to the mansion.

Yuno: I didn't think you would personally participate in the wrestling match.

Yasuchika: Really? I thought it was rather expected.

Yasuchika closed the sliding door and hugged me by the waist.

The sight of his smile being so close to me made my heart race.

Yasuchika: If I’m playing a game that I absolutely have to win, I’ll do whatever it takes to win.

Yasuchika: And thanks to you, I managed to obtain some materials for my Onmyoji work.

(Come to think of it, he must have won quite a few valuable prizes.)

No one expected Yasuchika to win, so we bet every token we had and won an impressive amount of prizes.

Yasuchika: But the thing I was looking forward to the most, was the reward I’ll be receiving from you.

Yuno: Yasuchika…

My cheeks started burning as he gradually closed the distance between us.

Yasuchika: I was thinking of asking for my reward right away…

Yasuchika: But after some consideration, I realized that since you betted on me too, you’re also a winner.

Yuno: …? Uh-huh.

(I guess that makes sense.)

Yasuchika: That means I should reward you too.

I closed my eyes as his face came closer, and our lips met.

Yuno: Nn…

He pecked my lips a few times, making me part them slightly and the way his tongue slipped in seemed somewhat impatient.

Yuno: Mmph…

The tip of his tongue tickled my sensitive spots and my head went numb.

By the time we pulled away, I was breathless.

Yuno: … Was that my reward?

Yasuchika: Nope, that’s not all.

Yasuchika: I’m going to spoil you rotten for believing in me so much.

Those words whispered in my ear were like a sweet poison that took away my ability to think.

Rather than using my words, I responded to Yasuchika by wrapping my arms around him—

#ikemen genjiden #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome #ikegen story event

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atashinokaishaku · 2 years

Text

Trial AU: Shouto’s Side

Part 1 | AO3 (PLEASE ADOPT)

Shouto’s Psychologist testifying (maybe a psych evaluation requested for the case or him asking Aizawa for a recommendation before all this) "Due to being objectified since an early age he has developed a tendency to not consider himself as a priority or even a factor. It's not that he thinks he didn't or doesn't deserve help, or that he feels he deserves a punishment over being unable to save his mother since he is aware that was his father responsibility" "His reaction isn't breaking down and mindlessly taking a beating but to push forward by resenting and rightfully blaming his father" "That's the reason he doesn't intrinsically respects adults or authority figures (coughpolicechiefdogcough), due to the possibility, however small, of them being another Todoroki Enji, another Pro Hero, who do their job, but aren't truly heroes" "His attitude after being made aware of the consequences of long term overtraining since a frightening young age is worrying but not unexpected, in his mind his training hadn't been considered as "extreme" until he entered UA, so now, under Aizawa-sensei's supervision he's been adapted to a more adequate routine supervised by doctors." "In my opinion, Todoroki Shouto doesn't regard himself as a victim despite being one, he's used to the extremely demanding training; and his priority, his family, are out of danger, were his mother still at risk the probability of Shouto having reached out for help is visibly high" "He was betrayed by the only protection he had, the only human connection he had, her memory was his last hope on people" Shouto Also we're talking about the teen who got attacked at USJ and didn't hesitate to subdue all villains instantly and reprimand them for being sad excuses of adults, if a sudden villain attack isn't a risk, then his "not in danger" means "not in mortal danger" "He isn't afraid of Endeavour not because he isn't dangerous, but because there's nothing he can do to those Shouto loves, his mother is in the hospital, his siblings are invisible to him, Touya is already dead, the beating are the training he's subjected to daily, so yes, I believe he'd be beaten to the ground and still glare at his father and morse code "fuck you" on the floor" His father presence is integrated in every choice he makes, his only connection to people was him, and it's hate and anger "I hate liking Japanese style food, it feels like I'm him, like I was born to be like him, that there's nothing of me that's solely mine " "I used to avoid Japanese sweets, since I knew he liked them, tried to convince myself that I wasn't like him even on the most trivial things. I was desperate to not see him when I looked in the mirror, I was oddly thankful to my scar for that. Now I'm able to realise I'm not less myself even if I like similar things, it doesn't invalidate my likes as my own just because we share the same interests" "When you want someone out of your life you detest everything that reminds you of them, even if they are a part of you. It's like trying to continuously tear off a part of yourself, you lose one of those pieces that makes you who you are" Reclaiming my tastes as my own, to freely allow myself to enjoy food with my friends without that oppressing feeling... is something I need more of. I like discovering my taste in music, in manga, teas, and sharing them with important people. Why don't you blame your mother? "...her memory was my only comfort, and I clinged to it" "I can't sleep without a tatami floor, I can't calm down, it brings me to those times when he was out the house and I got to watch TV with her" "After... the more I thought about her the angrier I got, it was his fault she wasn't there anymore, but I wouldn't leave because she's still at that hospital, her care was in his hands, I wouldn't visit either, because... because my biggest fear is she seeing me and in her eyes all there'd be was Endeavour" "Her fearing me haunts me, she would heal as long as nothing reminded her of him, and I wouldn't take the risk of her relapsing" Why now? "Before UA I was running on determination, hate, resentment, anger, focused on refusing him completely... I didn't realise how exhausted I was until UA gave me time, a break, after my fight with Midoriya I was out of it, I needed to think, I'm the type who needs to ponder on a subject before setting on an answer. Besides, he isn't ignorant that after All Might's sudden retirement people needed hope, and as an established Pro Hero with an efficient and hard-working image, even with his harsh and serious exterior Endeshit is an extremely capable Pro Hero. Shouto's also sure he wouldn't suffer any lasting injury from Endeavour, since he needs his Masterpiece. "I knew this coming out would break people's trust in Pro Heroes" Shouto asking every Pro Hero/sidekick he meets a question "Do you think a bad person can be a good hero?" Everyone considered it a joke "You need to be a good person to be a Hero boy!" Aizawa is the first hero who answers differently, with a weary and serious look "I've seen villains saving people, and I know there's heroes who can destroy lives" Shouto feels his teacher searching eyes, expecting him to tell him something, something they both know he won't be able to take back. A bad person can do good things, after all not all Pro Heroes are heroes. Shouto saying stuff like "I trust vigilantes more than Pro Heroes, they don't care for money, fame, influence or power" in national TV "Nro2 Pro Hero's son is a vigilante supporter" "I've never hid my scar, I've photographed, gone to class, appeared in TV, with a burn scar on my face; maids, neighbours, teachers, sidekicks, Japan, the world knows I have a scar on my face and that I'm the son of Flame Hero Endeavour"

"If no one even bothered to ask about something so visible, despite always looking at me, then there's simply no one I'd trust to get help from" "I'm used to being seen, not as myself but as "his", "his masterpiece", "his son" "his legacy" "something Endeavour graciously will leave to the society once he retires" "I'm used to the looks, the hired people, the paparazzi, the invasion of privacy." "But my mom isn't. Maybe she was at some point, or maybe she just held it in along with everything else, but she needs more, and I want her to have more. Since meeting new people, I've realised there's more than just this oppressive lifestyle, and the more hope of getting to know them and my siblings the more unbearable the weight becomes, it's not as easy as when I had nothing." Rei "He was such a shy boy, I'd like to say I was able to imagine him turning into a bright and happy child when he grew up but.. I'd only seen him flinching and wary of everyone. I was wrong of course, I didn't consider what my breakdown would trigger, the anger tired him, he's so strong, even more than he was when he tried to protect me, not because of his training, but because, despite everything, he's still that kind little boy whose eyes would light up when he saw someone being rescued, turn to me and say

"Mom you are next right?"

#if anyone writes a trial au please let me know I need to read this so bad ;w;#I know nothing about psychology #todoroki shouto #rei todoroki #enji todoroki #aizawa shouta #dadzawa #character study #?#bnha #bnha prompts #BNHA au

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gumasantan · 1 year

Text

home: a three-part haikaveh fic (2/3)

about: a haikaveh modern treasure hunt AU.

word count: ~3.9k words (long, this one).

a/n: this chapter can work as a standalone story, but i would implore you to read the first chapter! please enjoy!

first chapter: the hallway

third chapter: the outside

Linear? Yes.

Rigid? Yes.

Symmetrical? Yes.

The geometry of the interior is sublime. The west side perfectly mirrors the east side. One can tell that the structure is layered, you can separate what’s part of the floor, wall, and ceiling. There are small portions of sandstone smartly designed to arrange each layer, either they gradually decrease in area or increase in thickness. From a practical standpoint, these little things make the view easier for the eyes to digest. Everything serves a purpose, and the look of the location doesn’t cause any confusion.

Yet, it’s not boring.

It’s correct to believe that any design scheme incorporated into erecting structures reflects ideas of the people who have envisioned what they want their work to appear like. The ancient civilization that constructed this chamber obviously cared about the beauty of their creation: The sanguine colors that layered the golden plating implanted on the pillars add variety to what would’ve been just an ordinary sight. The walls have hieroglyphics neatly carved onto them, and the floors were smoothened out, they don’t have a rough, bricklike pattern.

In the bigger picture, all of these have meanings that will be perceived greater by those who are now long gone than the modern inhabitants who currently walk the world today. But for a trained eye, these observations aren’t that hard to make.

“The architecture of this place is well thought-out!” A blonde man uttered as he looks around him with his knees on the ground.

“Pay attention to what’s in front of us, please.” His partner beside him, also kneeling down.

“Allow me to indulge myself, would you? I could have used some of these designs in my palace. I’m sure it would look just as good without the rough textures!” The blonde continued on, not intent on following his companion’s orders.

“Kaveh, I hope you haven’t forgotten what you’ve said before.” Kaveh met a pair of eyes, annoyed at his behavior.

“Ah, yes, of course crybaby Alhaitham. About the task only. Got it.” Sarcastic in his reply, he is a man of his own words after all.

They both look at the ornament in front of them.

There was a tombstone of sorts standing onto the ground in front of them, in the middle of the chamber, encapsulated in tiled triangles, surrounded by littered grains of sand and stone tablets.

Perhaps this is the main attraction of the place.

“I can’t read what’s written there. So, I don’t need to be here. I look stupid pretending that I can read this thing.” Kaveh admitted. He had a disappointing look on his face, directed towards one Alhaitham that should’ve known better.

“And I can’t let you simply wander around such a hostile place as this one. We would lose this only opportunity if you set off another hidden trap again.” Alhaitham answered Kaveh’s complaint without looking at him.

Kaveh’s eyes squinted at Alhaitham, just because he is annoyed that his junior is right.

“Fine.” His admission was followed by a sigh.

He looked at the tombstone, noticing that Alhaitham’s gaze hasn’t differed at all, still examining the epitaph written in the same hieroglyphs.

“What are we even looking at anyway? A bunch of small drawings of a pigeon, an inverted balloon, a headless spider, a snake and a flagpole. Somehow that’s supposed to mean something?” These pictures are definitely not the type to tell you a thousand words.

“It’s an ancient language.” Alhaitham could really take no joke.

“Obviously. I’m asking more about how you are able to derive a meaning from something that looks so meaningless.” Kaveh’s irritated tone fail to bother Alhaitham.

“Are you that interested?” Alhaitham asks.

“No, not at all.” Smugly answering his junior’s question like how a cold professor would to their one of their own students.

“Then don’t inquire. Be silent, so I can properly translate it and you can answer for the last time. We’ll be on our way out shortly after.” Alhaitham kept on deciphering the ancient language.

“Huh, ‘you’?” Kaveh smirked at Alhaitham.

Whether he noticed it or not, Kaveh could feel something akin to feeling good deep down inside him. In Kaveh’s eyes, his conceited junior just passively admitted that he is the only one capable of doing ALL of the work. Great success!

As they remain in their kneeling position, with Alhaitham working as their archaeological translator while muttering different words, Kaveh can’t help but reminisce as they head towards the end of the day. In such a dangerous place, there’s a weird but cozy feeling invisibly filling the air of the chamber as they both stay in silence. This is further reinforced by the wideness of the place, for it allows for natural light to settle in the place. Small, infrequent patches of darkness decorating select areas of the chamber, setting a calm mood as if they were in a bedroom.

...

“On a more personal note, I was at the very least, entertained today.” Kaveh was the first to speak with sincerity leaking from his words, reading the air correctly by ceasing his bickering.

Alhaitham gave no reaction. He didn’t even flinch.

“Even with how much I loathe you, it’s unusual for me to do something this interesting that excites my dull and regretful time with you.” It’s a double-edged sword after all, since he’ll always be that common factor in his life: He lives with him under the same roof.

That’s annoying as heck.

Alhaitham remained unfazed against Kaveh’s snarky comments.

“I suppose what I’m trying to say is that…I appreciate what happened today.” Those were the perfect words that Kaveh could think of. Being thankful for the adventure without having to be thankful of doing it with Alhaitham.

“Maybe you should think of how to pay your rent and your debt.” Alhaitham commented out of nowhere, catching Kaveh off guard. His neutral voice suggested that he didn’t intend to insult him, rather, just ‘trying’ to be factual and helpful.

Kaveh’s eyes widened. His debt?

Ouch.

That was his weakest spot. Of course, the debt. The debt that he accumulated after constructing one of his architectural projects. The one that he considers his own masterpiece: A palace, one that sits on a valley in-between two cliffs. In such a challenging environment, it was a miracle that Kaveh could make such a building into a reality, and to do it prettily and cleverly as well.

He wouldn’t have a problem going into the details, logistics, and circumstances that had to go right in order to do it if it wasn’t for the deep hole he dug himself into when he forgot to remember how much financing he would need to undergo such a project. He only realized the fatal mistake in the middle of construction.

For a desperate architect in such a desperate situation, it wouldn’t take long until someone offered to loan him an amount of money that even if a million Kavehs were to live right now, they still wouldn’t be enough to pay all of it within their entire lifetimes. But he had no choice, either that or he ends up with an ugly, unfinished project that will just taint the floral beauty of the landscape.

It’s no question as to what he decided.

Since he decided to pay for…whatever amount of time it takes. It would make sense that he lives under his roof that he created, right? Nope! The person that he loaned from, which became the owner of the palace BY THE WAY, didn’t let him so.

He would’ve been a vagabond had he not heeded her advice: To contact a certain scholar from the Academy that he studied under and taught in. He was naïve at that time, thinking that this person would be sympathetic enough to understand his situation, as stupid as it might sound.

He was wrong.

“I’ve figured out what this text meant.” A firm, serious voice snapped Kaveh back into reality from his own little mental flashback.

Both Kaveh and Alhaitham stood up.

“What did it say?” Kaveh immediately switched his attention to the present matter, erasing any memory of the previous moment.

“It’s a four-line riddle, unlike the previous simpler ones. Seeing an empty space here and the stone tablets littered around us, I’m assuming that we just need to slot in the one with the right answer on it.” Alhaitham looks to the small, rectangular objects with various symbols on each of them.

“I see. What is the riddle?” Kaveh asks, preparing his mind for the final, upcoming task. Ready to demonstrate the reason why he and his class is famed for.

Alhaitham stares at the epitaph, reading it symbol by symbol.

“The breathing walls emanate a warm breeze of comfort, gusting past the naked bleeding soul. Eternal healing by the imperfect being. In each word lie each of the good.” Alhaitham started to talk like a 16th century English poet yet he lacks the tone of one.

Huh.

Kaveh tried to giggle but interrupted himself.

“Are you sure that’s what it says? You’re not trying to fool me or any of the sort, right?” Kaveh clarifies, in tiny disbelief of what he just had heard.

“Yes, I’m confident. That’s the most accurate that I could translate it in terms of grammar.” Alhaitham confidently answers. Knowing him for a long time, he’s not the type of person that will purposely make a mistake.

Kaveh started thinking.

“Hmm…’breathing walls’…” Kaveh muttered in the middle of his thought.

Compared to the ones he had answered before, this one was more philosophical as it is pretentious. In truth, Kaveh found it a little cheesy. Naked bleeding soul? This looks like one of those set of words that a young adolescent would come up with. Or one that you would see in a pop song. It’s a bit silly, really.

But this is the lock to the treasure. He needs to take this seriously.

“Okay, before I come up with any ideas. Can you examine and translate what’s written on the stone tablets? We need to limit our choices to avoid barking up the wrong tree?” Kaveh gestures to the tablets on the floor, prompting a nod from Alhaitham.

Alhaitham picks up the one from on the tombstone’s right.

“This one translates to ‘World’.”

Next, he picks up the one on their north.

“This one says ‘Conscience’.”

He then turns to pick up the tablet from the left side.

“’Emotion’ is what’s written in this one.”

He goes to pick the fourth one behind them.

“This is ‘Connection’.”

Kaveh noticed another tablet covered in sand under his feet, picking it up.

“This is probably the last one. Here, translate it.” Kaveh threw the tablet into Alhaitham’s hands.

“Alright. Your tablet says ‘Person’.”

They collected all of the stone tablets and put it beside the empty slot. With their options clearly defined, Kaveh puts one of his hands under his chin. His junior joining him in his pondering.

“Do you see any connections, Kaveh?” Alhaitham curiously asks, always finding himself in this position whenever he lets Kaveh work his wit, which deep down, he finds impressive. He won’t admit that to him though.

"Not yet.” His senior answered.

…

“At first glance, with how the riddle is worded out, it seems to be referring to something that’s not a physical object. Seeing most of what our tablets say, my assumptions are correct.” Kaveh started to sound like a professor: Logical, methodical, and formal. It is very unlike him to be in this guise outside of his academic bubble.

“Agreed, the last sentence would also confirm that. The ‘world’ is one outlier though, there must be some reason why they put it there.” Alhaitham voiced out his sound concern.

“If we take this literally, then ‘world’ would make sense. After all, most, if not everyone, shares the thought that the world is innocent. It’s just a natural being, reacting to changes incurred by us. And the rest, the breeze, gust, and healing...That is, if we don’t consider figures of speech. Can you repeat the riddle again?” Kaveh wants to make sure he doesn’t get the wrong ideas.

“Alright, I’ll read again: The breathing walls emanate a warm breeze of comfort, gusting past the naked bleeding soul. Eternal healing by the imperfect being. In each word lie each of the good.” The language-knowledgeable scribe reiterated, easily translating the symbols.

…

“I think we’re going in the right direction.” Little by little, Kaveh’s growing confident.

We?

“What are you thinking?” Alhaitham asks curiously.

“Read it again. ‘Breathing walls’, ‘naked bleeding soul’, and ‘imperfect being’, right?” Kaveh asks, looking at Alhaitham with growing inquisitive by each question asked.

“Yes, those are the correct translations. But what is a breathing wall? Such things don’t exist. And imperfect being? Everything can become perfect when they’re at the right place and at the right time.” Alhaitham was then met by a facepalming Kaveh, who seemed to be disappointed at his attempt at puzzle analysis.

“No, you’ve misconstrued the riddle.” An unimpressed look was evident in Kaveh’s face.

Oh.

“These are personifications. Naked bleeding soul for when we are hurt or feel exposed. And as much as I respect your position about perfection, it is just objectively wrong. No one can ever truly become perfect; not even you and not even me. We are flawed beings, imperfect beings.” Kaveh explained in a convincing tone.

“I see. Whatever that satisfies the riddle.” Alhaitham answered without showing any kind of disagreement and just wanting to get the job done.

“Although, I find myself wondering what it meant about ‘breathing walls’. It’s obvious to me that they’re referring to us humans, but why use the noun? Why didn’t they use anything else? Why use ‘walls’?” Kaveh wondered.

“It’s irrelevant. The majority of these statements refer to a person, so it must be that.” Alhaitham stated, grabbing the tablet with the matching set of symbols onto it.

Kaveh just sighed.

“No, you don’t understand. Yes, they do personify, but you need to look into the bigger picture. Why do those breathing walls emanate a warm breeze of comfort? Why does the imperfect being heal eternally? And of course, the meaning of that last statement, which we’re yet to figure out.” He analyzes each line of the riddle, looking for the purpose of each sentence. He gestured to Alhaitham to drop the tablet and think again.

“I might’ve overlooked these details, but from these descriptions, I think they’re just perceptions rather than truths.” Assuredly said in true Alhaitham fashion.

Alhaitham’s input got Kaveh thinking.

“Hmm…you’re not completely wrong. I would also like to think that these are perceptions, but we require knowledge of whose perspective this riddle is in. Additionally, we need to account who they are referring to. Not all personifications refer to a person. Sometimes, in riddles, some answers are just too good to be true.” Kaveh is in his element, always considering each angle of those who had created such word-based puzzles.

“I understand. You are correct. We also take such approaches in the scientific method, albeit more inflexible than and not as intuitive as what you’re currently doing.”

In a rare moment in time where opportunity allows them so, the great rivals exhibited great teamwork. No squabbling, just engaging in respectful discourse, aided by each other’s strengths.

Kaveh stares at the tombstone, wanting to be able to understand it himself.

“I don’t think it’s ‘conscience’ since the focus is less about doing what’s right. And I also don’t think that ‘emotion’ is the answer because if that’s the case, then this riddle would only be talking about feeling sad or hurt, which is too shortsighted.” Kaveh started to eliminate choices that would not answer the entirety of the riddle.

“That leaves us with…’connection’ then.” Alhaitham grabbed the corresponding stone tablet.

“It would make sense. It’s an unassuming, neutral, but fitting answer.” Kaveh thought more about it, and the more he did, the closer he got to in solving the riddle.

“These adjectives could only be possible when two or more people are being referred to. An island of a man cannot survive on his own nor heal himself. They would require someone’s assistance.”

Kaveh instantly remembers his own experiences as soon as those words left his mouth.

“You need to connect. Find out about each other. Establish and maintain that relationship between each other for beneficence! If one is hurt, then the other can only heal them, deliver that ‘warm breeze of comfort’ as the riddle says, to them!”

He feels that he’s drawing close to a Eureka! moment.

“That’s what being acquainted means. That’s what friendships and romances are for. Become that breathing wall, be there for when you need one another, and beyond that! The only thing that accounts.”

Kaveh noticed himself becoming caught up in the emotions as his memories return that contrasted his words.

“I get that this ‘connection’ would be the right answer then?” Alhaitham asks in a blank tone.

Kaveh’s breathing started to hitch.

Seeing who’s in front of him, he slowly soothed himself to not let an Alhaitham that’s barren of any emotion witness such sentiments coming from him. He knows when to get emotional, and it would be just improper to do it in front of someone that won’t even get close to understanding his feelings.

He exhaled.

“Yes, Alhaitham. The answer to the riddle is ‘connection’.” Kaveh confidently answered.

“You are sure about this, yes? I don’t think we’ll be allowed for a second chance, remember what happened at the last chamber? I don’t fancy having to run for my life again.” Alhaitham put the stone tablet atop the empty slot, ready to put it in.

Ah, yes. How could he forget the reason why they were in that dark hallway in the first place?

So many wrong attempts responsible for just one big rolling boulder.

They never ran that fast before in their lives, until that moment.

But his statement of clarification made Kaveh reconsider. Did they answer it in the correct angle? Is there any part of it that doesn’t match up well with the proposed answer? Risky it is to let even a minute detail slip: This is the final riddle that will open the door to the treasure if it were answered correctly. Otherwise, they could be entranced into another marathon again, or worse.

This riddle and this answer, everything seemed to connect and make sense. What could it be other than ‘connection’? Using the process of elimination: One requires a thoughtless mind, the other is just too obvious of an answer, and the rest matches up with one of the lines but fails to satisfy the general equation. ‘Connection’ is the correct answer, even from an objective standpoint.

Well, not everything made sense. There was one that sticks out like a sore thumb.

“I’m sure about it…for the most part. I just can’t seem to find how that answer relates to a breathing wall.” Kaveh admitted, making it apparent that he wants to find an appropriate answer.

“I suppose in such pretentious riddles, some pretentious words are just there for the sake of…being pretentious.” Alhaitham smirked. He is a master at that game and he recognizes when something is being too pompous for the sake of appearing impressive.

“I guess so.” Kaveh answered as he watched Alhaitham struggle in slotting the tablet inside.

At that moment, he just kept repeating the two words over and over again under his breaths

...

“Breathing walls…breathing walls…breathing walls…”

At that point in deep redundancy, he managed to visualize a mental image.

It was himself, drawing up a blueprint inside a familiar place: A bedroom that was not his, that belonged to someone else. And behind him, was the owner.

But why?

He remembered what he said previously.

“Become that breathing wall. Be there for—for each other.” Silently murmuring to himself.

He comes into a realization, conjuring a meaning for that two peculiar words.

“Hey, I’d just thought, that ‘connection’ might not be the right answer.” Kaveh told his junior.

Alhaitham stopped himself.

“I didn’t realize how important it was, until now.” Kaveh spoke as he continues to think, trying to come up with a coherent explanation to what would be a confused Alhaitham.

“What are you saying?” Alhaitham tilted his head towards Kaveh.

“The ‘breathing wall’ part. It was important after all. Yes, we’re indeed correct that a physical object is not the answer. But I posit that our answer is not only an idea that we can show, but an idea that we can show AND see with our own eyes!” Kaveh talked faster as he goes on, unclear if it’s excitement or nervousness that he’s showing.

“I fail to understand what you’re trying to imply.” Alhaitham tried to dismiss Kaveh’s second thoughts, but the blonde wouldn’t allow that.

“It’s…the answer should be a shelter.”

What?

He left Alhaitham dumbfounded.

“A shelter. Someone’s shelter. I’m not referring to the physical structure, but something special that one can become towards the right person.” Kaveh clarified the difference.

“Being a…home towards people? What are you trying to say here?” Alhaitham asks, still just as confused.

“Think of it as a special status. It’s not an explicit thing. When you refer someone as ‘your home’, it means that they make you feel secured and safe.” Kaveh explained briefly.

But Alhaitham only returned silence. Kaveh sighed.

“You have your own house right? Admit it or not, there is no place just like that one. What do you feel returning to your place after a long and tiring day? You’d just want to rest, and the best place to do that is in your home. It brings you the best resting experience you won’t ever have someplace else.” Kaveh was desperate for Alhaitham to understand. He needs him to be on the same page here, or else, he would think that his senior has become irrational.

“I…I don’t know how to answer that one.” Alhaitham can only stay confused.

“Attempt to apply it in the context of human beings. We are imperfect creatures, flawed in any way we allow it to be possible. Even though that’s the case, someday, someone will accept us to the point that they will find us irreplaceable because we could make them feel positive emotions that no other people can. That particular way they view us, is how we become, a shelter, to people.”

Kaveh let his optimism spill unknowingly, contrary to the same person that would carefully think of each word when it comes to explaining what should’ve been a simple concept had it been any other people that was with him.

“Look, even if I did understand the foolishness you are uttering, which I won’t, there exists no tablet in this place that has home, house, or whatever otherworldly concept you’re referring to, that is written in any of them.” Alhaitham shook his head.

Kaveh just winced at him.

At this point, any further explanations would be useless. Even if he had enough patience to explain it to him, Alhaitham would just be more and more resistant to idea, and more annoying to deal with. That kind of concept was just too foreign for his companion.

How could it be possible for them to endure each other forever?

Without warning, Kaveh quickly grabbed one of the tablets, almost as if he perfectly remembered the symbols on it, and slotted it inside the empty space.

The surface below the tombstone opened up revealing the climax of their adventure: The treasure that shined its rays towards and beyond the walls of the ceiling.

Alhaitham, taken aback by Kaveh’s swift decisiveness, still managed to realize what the situation entails, and snatched away the treasure from its place.

The ground began to shake.

#genshin impact #haikaveh #kavetham #kaveh #alhaitham #long fic #multiple chapters

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