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nouvxllev · 1 month

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hey! can i get something like... Vada cavell x Fem reader? R is in a bar playing pool but she is terrible at it. Vada is enchanted by R and approaches her but R doesn't pay much attention to Vada. Vada then makes a bet that if she wins the pool match against R, she will get a kiss.

you can make the ending with R liking Vada and going home with her. smut if you want and g!p if u want

first fuck

Pairing: G!p!Vada Cavell x Fem!Reader

Summary: ^^ request!!

Words: 4.0k (was not expecting this is THAT long)

Warnings: smut. i think thats painfully obvious. but also a little fluff, bottomvadabottomvadabottomvadaholyshit, i love a confident to awkward little guy vada cavell

a/n: thank you for your request anon!! much appreciated, hope ive fulfilled it

masterlist.

Vada wasn't what you'd call someone who's great at pool, 8ball, or billiards, whatever you'd call it.

She'd boast about being 'somewhat decent' at the game even though her skills barely lined between the basics and knowing nothing at all.

She manages to win a few games here and there, but she doesn't really think winning a game against her 11 year old sister would be much of a win situation.

You on the other hand, the prettiest girl that Vada was definitely not watching for the past 20 minutes trying to pocket atleast one ball, basics were definitely not your thing. Or maybe you just skimmed it all and let it go through the other ear with how absolutely terrible you are playing.

Not that Vada has any room of say. But watching you focus so intensely on the cue stick only to somehow to sink the 8-ball in every match is almost adorable to her.

She couldn't tear her eyes off of you for even a second—it's suffocating.

She couldn't care less watching an idiot struggle lining up her shot for what felt like the hundredth time this evening surrounded by, seemingly, your group of friends.

Yet she could. She could say she was head over heels for you, enchanted even.

Vada, perched on top of the edge of one of the bar tables, a wry smile slowly coming up to her face as she watched you, drink in hand while she swirled it around, the ice slowly melting but her gaze on you remained frozen.

She heard how your friends cheered you on for the hundredth time, giggling while they watch you horribly fail and pocket the cue ball. They were ganging up on you quite fast, like there was some bet going around that if you win they'll probably give you 100$.

"So are you just going to keep watching that girl or are you going to come with us?" Nick creeped up, hand in hand with Mia, slightly kicking one of the legs on the chair, almost tumbling Vada down. Though she would rather die in her own hole than admit that she was someone light-weight.

Vada almost got knocked off if not for her getting a grip on the edge. "Kick my chair one more time and I will make my fall so damaging your wallet should be the one being hospitalized." She scowled, even if it looks like a pout more than anything.

"Scary." Nick rolled his eyes, almost darting his tongue at Vada if not for Mia nudging Nick, shaking her head while letting out a sigh.

"We're gonna play beer pong with the others. You coming, Vada?"

Vada hesitated for a moment, she could play pong where she was an absolute beast at, or she could stay and horribly pine for a girl she just saw like some weird stalker.

It's an easy choice.

"Mn, no thanks," she squeaked out, nodding slightly, "You guys go ahead. I'll catch up with you later," she replied, mustering a half-hearted smile before averting her gaze back to you.

The two let out a shrug, a 'suit your self' kind of shrug as they headed towards the table of those stereotypical cups you'd see in highschool parties, surrounded by her other friends. She could almost regret her decision if not for you catching her eye just for a slight second.

With a deep breath, as well downing what was left of her drink in mere seconds, she pushed herself off the edge of her seat and made her way over to your table, steeling herself for what she hoped would be a move of confidence (or maybe to fuel the lack of.)

And of course she'd regret it right away when she was already 2 steps away from you.

God, you were pretty. So, so, so pretty. Like her breathing capacity slowed down to a minimum.

Her hands made her way to that one ring on her pointer finger, fidgeting as she felt her heart pound in her chest and making its way up to her ears. She felt a flutter of nervous excitement in her stomach, like butterflies. But it wasn't just flying around, no, it was definitely eating her from the inside. In a good way.

She cleared her throat, trying to sound casual but not like that voice you'd do when it's awfully obvious you've been staring at them for a while.

"Uh," she started, or maybe stammered. What a way to go, Cavell. "Hello, do you—would you mind if I join in?" She stood at the left side opposing yours, fidgeting with her hands.

No response.

She didn't miss how her heart shot up a pitch when you glanced her way for a brief second before returning to that focus you had.

Maybe, at that point, it was Vada's cue to stop talking, but she persisted anyways, "I'm pretty good—okay maybe not that good but I do know the basics. You know, how to pocket a ball or two... is it alright if I play a game with you?" What an absolute lady charmer, Vada.

But again, no response.

It's sad how she sounded like if a man embodied a 7th grader who still used the same reduce and reuse horrible pickup lines was a 5'3 19 year old woman.

Vada bit her lip, so maybe it actually was the time to shut the fuck up. Or maybe not. Downing a glass of beer wasn't technically a way to stitch one Vada Cavells mouth up even if you tried.

So as some last-ditch effort, and something she wouldn't normally do if she had the mental capacity to stop her brain, Vada slammed a couple of $100 bills onto the pool table.

If someone were to ask where in the fuck did she get all her money from she'd probably answer that she's been waiting for this day. (Even if it was the money to pay her large amount of debt for Nick.) It was safe to say it caught all your attention.

"Could I make a bet with you?"

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You weren't getting a fucking thing.

Pool wasn't your strong suit, more so not your forte. Maybe agreeing to joining a game with your friends might not have been the wisest move you've done. Sure you pocketed some balls, but they were either by a long shot or the wrong ball.

When you got that invite via text, you figure you'd just join in for a while then bail when things either, a, get messy and they have to drag you in for a possible aiding and abetting crime that would mess up your whole record, or b, becoming the designated driver for your friends who'll be blacked out like a light switch.

No person who has the mental capability and their frontal lobe intact would see either options to be appealing.

The balls scattered on the table after a near perfect break, which was the only thing you were good at you noticed, and your attempts to sink them into the pockets were met with more misses than hits.

To say that your patience was wearing thin was an understatement, and you have half a mind of stabbing your friends in the eye with the cue stick.

Your friend slung her arm over your shoulder, unable to contain her laughter. "Oh, this is sad to look at. You should just give up the 100$, y/n. It's been, what, 5 rematches? That's not even counting the times you accidentally hit the wrong ball."

You roll your eyes, hearing everybody laugh around you before sighing as you tried to line up your next shot, "I'd rather die before I have a negative symbol to my name." You retorted, mustering up the confidence and that one comfortable hand position that wasn't doing you any justice.

Of course, it doesn't. It always doesn't. How was it possible that you were hitting every corner but the one you're supposed to hit!?

The others let out an empathetic little 'ooooh...' even if you knew they were tiring their asses out not to laugh at you.

"Knowing that you have a 100$ and nothing is crazy, and that's even sadder."

And that's when you heard a loud slam when you were about to make your shot, expecting it to be one of your friends' hands messing you yet again, so imagine your surprise when you looked up to find the most amount of money you've been offered your whole entire life.

You blinked, your grip loosening on the cue stick as your gaze repeatedly looked down at the money and at the girl, "Hello?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

You knew this girl was watching you ever since she walked up to the table, yet you never seemed to pay attention to her, so you hadn't taken a good look at her until now.

Oh you were fucked.

She was gorgeous.

To say that your curiosity was piqued was an understatement, it was definitely caught. Trapped, even. "A bet?" you repeated, the flicker of interest in that one word was something you needed to work on, "what kind of bet?"

She nodded, a smile coming out of her lips. A dimple. Shit.

Her gaze was locked onto yours, you didn't even notice how all your friends dipped the moment the cash was slammed onto the table. "Yeah, is that... cool with you?" she leaned against the table, you didn't even notice she was only wearing a pair of basketball shorts and an oversized tee. "I'm Cavell. Vada, Cavell."

It looked hot on her more than it should've.

"We play a game of pool, think that's obvious enough," she chuckled, "If I win..." Vada paused, you could see her thinking as she stared off, "you owe me a kiss. But if you win," her fingers tapped on the bills of cash laying around, "I'll give you this. Maybe even double."

There is in no universe, no world, does the prettiest girl you have ever seen just proposed a bet with the stakes of a kiss and a couple hundred dollars in hard cash.

And it's almost concerning how you'd burn all the stacks of cash just to lose and kiss this girl. A stranger, yet she was one of those strangers who you'd absolutely go down on.

Maybe you had too much to drink when you gave a silent nod and accepted her challenge.

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It's only been a few minutes into the game and you're giving half a mind to throw the game all together and pull Vada into the nearest stall and makeout with her.

You'd have to remind her that it's you should be plotting the cue ball then shoot. Not wink at you with that insufferable smirk on her face, take the cue ball from your hands, and pocket her own ball.

You're pretty good yourself, you noticed. You started taking on a different approach to cue spins, and you were getting the hang of not accidentally shooting the wrong ball.

Yet your thoughts became increasingly tempting, each one more distracting than the last.

Every time she leaned over the table to line up her shot, you couldn't help but stare at the way her hair often fell in loose waves around her face, her shirt falling against her movements.

That distracting in a way you could almost gauge your eyeballs with the cue stick to remind yourself to focus and tear your gaze away from her. Quite literally.

You lined up your shot, to say that your fingers were trembling was an understatement, they were fucking palpitating at this point. You try to ignore it yet it felt like every nerve in your body was relying on this damn point in your life, like they don't have anything better to do than make your body function normally.

It would only take one solid ball to make your shot and you can get to finally shoot the 8-ball.

"Oh shit right, I didn't get your name."

Of course, Vada of all people, would only ask this question now.

Your mind goes blank for a moment. Shit, shit, shit.

"Oh, uh, it's…" you stammer, feeling like a complete idiot for forgetting your own name in front of her.

Before you could even speak, she's leaning in even closer, her perfume taking your senses, a scent that you could almost overdose in and would gladly take either heaven or hell.

"It's y/n," you finally manage to say, the rush of relief never felt more satisfying than the words leaving your lips.

The built up tension in your mind eases slightly as you meet Vada's gaze as you turn your head, her smile widening into a ray of sunshine that warms your heart. It's captivating, almost mesmerizing, and for a moment, you find yourself lost in the warmth of her gaze.

And maybe a little too captivating to the point you miss the unmistakable sound of balls clacking against eachother as they fall into the pockets, watching in disbelief as Vada pockets her last striped bal and the 8-ball all at once.

Oh, fuck me.

"Forgot to tell you that you ran out of time, y/n." Vada smirked, a full-blown shit-eating grin crossing her face.

"Oh my God." You curse under your breath, standing up slightly, even your posture looks defeated. "So not well-played." You jokingly quipped, placing down the cue stick and crossing your arms.

"You owe me something." She inched a little closer to you, her voice too fucking intoxicating for you to handle. You feel a shiver run down your spine as you step back just a slight, her head tilting upwards and a glint in her eyes that makes your heart race even faster.

"Impatient much?"

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"S-shit, wait... "

You gasped for air, stumbling into your apartment. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt Vada's hands falling to your hips and desperately clutching your waist, her body rutting against yours, feeling her clothed erection grinding on your heat. Fuck, you could tell she was big.

Her arms wrapped around you, pushing you against the door in frevor with your heart pounding in your chest as her lips met yours in a heated kiss, her mouth parting to intrude yours.

A sudden surge of desire and hunger shot through you as she claimed your mouth, closing your eyes as you hear her groan inside of your mouth all while she took you breathless.

"I thought you only wanted a kiss," you managed to murmur between kisses, your head tilting to grant her even more access, "Now you take me home to your apartment?" Her touch travelled down further, cupping the swell of your ass, feeling every curve you had in an agonizing desperation.

You'd think making out with Vada in more than 10 minutes in a bathroom stall would satisfy the both of you, yet you're here. In her apartment, feeling her hardened cock bucking against you.

Vada whined, her breath warm against your skin, a smirk gracing your lips at her sound, "I want more," she almost pleaded, "I need more," she whined, "please." Her fingers traced your jawline, your eyes meeting hers that almost begged you to take her.

You nodded frantically in response, your lips parting as your hot breath hits her skin, having no trust by letting your mouth run off rather than shoving her bulging cock down your throat until it fits perfectly in your mouth, pleasing her in every way possible.

Without hesitation, you lean in and kiss every inch of her skin, feeling her abs flex under your touch while you left wet kisses in her wake as you trailed down on your knees, letting your fingers slide into the waistband of her shorts and boxers, her garments offering no purpose to hide her painful erection.

"W-wait, y/n," she stopped you, her hands hovering over yours as she looked down on you with the prettiest doe eyes ever. "I never—I never done this before."

You looked up at her, your eyebrows raised, almost having to withdraw your hands from her, "You're... serious?" It was hard to imagine someone like her never had sex, yet it spurred you on even more knowing it was her first time. Her first fuck with you.

"Well, I have," she explained, her voice slightly trembling, " Close enough. We stopped before we got to actually fucking."

"Sorry, just—" she gulped, her hands leaving yours and tangling them into your hair, "just warning you. I'm not that experienced. Well, I have watched porn—"

"Vada." You stopped her just before she could tell you more, but you couldn't deny that it was extremely adorable for her to do so, "don't worry baby, I'll take care of you."

You wink before letting her boxers hit the wooden tiled floor, her veiny and pulsing cock sprining out and slapping against her abdomen, your eyes widening at the sight of her while your mouth watered and your cunt throbbed with want, needing her cock plowing into you.

"Fuck, Vada, you're huge," you gasped, your fingers wrapping around her dick as you guided the throbbing length to your lips, her pre-cum coating your already abused mouth.

You could sense Vada smirking above you, her ego boosting by the slightest compliment, but fuck she knows she's big.

You looked up at her, your eyes glistening with the faintest hint of lust as you started stroking her dick.

Quiet moans escaped her lips, her hips repeatedly bucking against your fingers while her head was thrown back, her fingers tightening their grip on your hair as you took your time tracing lazy circles around her leaking tip.

Every stroke you made on her had her cock twitching, almost begging for release, whines escaping her mouth every minute, she was pleading for more yet you gave her nothing.

"God, you look so pretty like this, baby, just for me..." You panted, it was intoxicating, maddening, the way she responded to your every movement with desire written all over her, especially when you call her that. She was never much of a dominating one, you noticed.

"Y/n, please… oh, f-fuck!" She threw her head back when you sped up, hearing her labored breaths, the way she would occasionally gasp your name in a broken moan all while you looked up at her like you've done nothing, how could you not tease her just the slightest bit?

You slowed your movements to a halt, drawing out her pleasure in the most agonizing way possible, tilting your head just a slight bit, "what is it, pretty girl? Tell me."

"Wanna—shit..." she moaned, "wanna cum'n your throat, baby, please..."

"Of course, pretty girl," you chuckled softly, leaning in to kiss her hardened cock while wasting no time in shoving her dick down your throat, gagging around her as you feel her erection stretch your lips as you took her deeper and deeper.

Vada's hips bucked around you, her moans growing louder and louder. Your name kept tumbling from her lips in broken moans and cries, her other hand hovering over her mouth yet it never muffled her erotic moans.

"Y/n, fuck, your mouth feels so good around my dick," she moaned, her words sending a shiver along your spine all the way to your dripping pussy.

You gagged around her pulsing length, feeling every crevice and vein inside your throat, your throat constricting as you struggled to take her size.

Spit dripped from your lips, going no where but to her balls and onto the floor as you tried to take her in.

With each thrust of her hips, each gasp of pleasure wanted you to take her in more and more.

You close her eyes, the taste of her on your tongue, the feeling of her throbbing length filling your mouth, the erotic sounds of her moans and your gagging around her dick—it was all too much, and yet not enough.

"Gonna cum, oh God, m'gonna cum..." she took a handful of your hair, trying to push you in deeper, chasing her high, "can I cum? Baby, please, I wanna cum so bad, please, pleasepleaseplease..."

You remove your mouth from her dick, hearing her groan and whine at the slightest bit of distance from your mouth and her cock, releasing it with a little pop all while you lick your lips, the faint taste of her still lingering on your tongue.

"Have a little patience, Vada," you cooed, going to your feet and taking off your undergarments, Vada's eyes immediately shooting down at your wet pussy, watching how her eyes wanted to take you all in, how she wanted to slam you against the bed and fuck you till early morning.

You let your arms stretch over her shoulders, trapping her in as you leaned in, your clit bumping with her twitching cock. "We've got all night, baby. Just wanna have you ready before you fuck me."

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"Vada! F-fuck, m'gonna cum again... gonna cum all over your cock, oh God!"

Throwing your head back, the only sounds that filled the room where the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the sloppy and wet squelch of your pussy as you went down on Vada's cock for the 4th time this evening.

Your words were barely coherent, your hips bucking and squeezing uncontrollably against Vada's cock all while your face was red and flushed from all the orgasms you've been receiving from her and giving her, tears streaming down your face in pleasure and pain.

The only sounds that filled the room were the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the sloppy and wet squelch of your pussy as you rode Vada's cock for the fourth time this evening. Each thrust of your own body left you gasping and moaning in heaven with Vada as she stared at you with her lips parted.

Her hands found peace on your waist, guiding your body with each movement you had on her, showing Vada how to perfectly cowgirl, your ass bouncing every time you hit the base of her cock that painfully stretched you until your puffy folds got used to her size.

Your own hands found their way to her chest, feeling the delicious flex of her abs as your tight walls squeezed around her dick.

Yet, you were running out of stamina, your pace slowing down as you started to grip on her chest a bit more tighter than usual.

Of course, the ever sweetest girl, Vada Cavell, noticed this almost immediately as she cooed, "you alright, y/n?" She moaned breathlessly, her cock still sensitive from you, "we could take it slow if you want—"

"No…" you panted, going to a halt. You couldn't stop now, not when you were so close to the edge, "don't wanna… wanna cum'n your cock… please," you whined, though you weren't resuming to your natural pace of fucking yourself into her.

You collapsed onto her, feeling your eyes closing shut and your body relaxing against Vada, her scent mixed with sweat was oddly comforting all while you melted into her embrace.

Vada sighed against you, her heartbeat against yours was all she needed after a few hours. Gently rubbing your back, she kissed your shoulders, praising you everytime her soft lips landed on your skin.

"You're perfect, have I ever told you that?" She whispered, "the prettiest girl. I don't know what I would do if I didn't offer you that bet." She then chuckled, making you chuckle against her back, pulling her into a tighter embrace as you whined at the loss of her cock inside of you.

"How's that for your first fuck?"

"Better than the shit I've take. Like, way fucking better." You both laughed.

"I'll draw you a bath, 'ts just a few steps away from my bedroom anyway." Vada got up after she laid you down comfortably on her mattress that was awfully stained with your and her juices. She put on a new pair of boxers before kissing you on the forehead, smiling against your skin.

"You're the sweetest, V." You smiled dumbly, yet Vada looked at you with tenderness and fondness in her eyes, like she didn't just fuck a stranger well into late night. But, she might just be falling in love after all.

Vada laughed, a smile creeping up on her face, bringing out her dimples, "V?"

"'ts your nickname," you slurred "Don't you like it?"

She took a moment before responding with a kiss on the lips, her soft ones meeting yours, "I love it."

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V: So... so are we official? Like girlfriends girlfriends, we're not just fucking around? Oh my God, don't tell me this is just a one night stand. Y: Vada, I thought that was already established when I repeatedly came around your dick yelling 'I love you.' V: Rrrrright, but what if Y: Vada, we're girlfriends. Alright?

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another a/n: been mia for probably weeks now, so sorry about that!! especially to those who have pending requests. ive been focusing on my studies recently AND i got hit with the worst cases of writers block. so thats two of them. but now since ive got maybe a free schedule, i can focus more on writing requests! thank you so so much by the way and stories might be posted a lot more late than usual. anyway,

#vada cavell x reader #vada cavell x femreader #vada cavell x y/n #vada cavell x you #vada cavell x reader smut #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna marie ortega

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moongothic · 6 months

Text

No appearently I'm still not fucking done

Like. No matter how I think about it, Crocodad with the timeline Oda has suggested makes no sense to me, so I genuinely can't bring myself to believe in the theory anymore (mainly because I don't want to get my hopes up tbh)

(Like if the timeline was Revolutionary -> Baby Happens -> Leaves and becomes a pirate -> Whitebeard beats his ass -> Dude becomes jaded and wants to destroy the government -> Alabasta This would make sense. I would 100% buy this timeline But the timeline is supposed to be Pirate -> Shichibukai -> Whitebeard beats his ass -> Somehow gets involved with the Revolutionaries -> Baby Happens -> Transitions while a Shichibukai -> Alabasta I just. This timeline does not make sense to me. But it's the only one we'd have??)

But at the same time I can not come up with a single other explanation to why the absolute fuck Crocodile is still a character with a presence in the story if it's not Crocodad

By which I mean, on an emotional level he has no connections or ties to any other characters that would explain why he's still in the story (compared to like, Enel, who also has no connections to anyone and thus is pretty much just gone). And like, to be fair, sure, he could be just there for fanservice and because he can be used to drive the plot forward in some ways.

But when you compare Crocodile to say Mihawk or Buggy or even ol' CP9 members, they all either have close emotional ties to other important characters (Zoro and Shanks to be specific), or they represent something (the manifestation of the Government and its corruption), meaning these characters reuniting/encountering others has emotional weight in the story

But Crocodile was just some asshole who Luffy beat up, he's not much different from like Moria in that sense and god knows we haven't seen Moria in ages (to the point I wouldn't be shocked if he died offscreen) (Oda please don't kill my beloved goth onion I need him back so bad)

So why the fuck is Crocodile still here, why is he still plot-relevant, who is he supposed to tie to on an emotional basis

Like the theory Crocodile could maybe be Xebec's son would make sense and explain a lot about Crocodile as a character, and it could tie him back into the story if Xebec is alive and is the one hiding the final Poneglyph (this theory is on thin ice mind you), but no matter how I think about it I can't imagine how that would push either his own character arc forward or anyone else's. The plot, sure, but it just feels like it stops there

Especially because althought Crocodile Clearly Has Some Issues, his issues don't seem to be from a bad father-son relationship, it's trust issues and the hatred of the Government, so meeting his maybe-father-Xebec-if-he-is-alive would probably do fuck all to move his character anywhere (and if it did, where??????? World Domination??????? We all know that won't work out tho????????)

(Also if Xebec was his father, then Crocodile's decision to ASSIST Whitebeard in saving Ace, the dickwad who would have betrayed his father, makes EVEN LESS SENSE)

(Sidenote, you could maybe imagine Crocodile somehow tieing into Pluton again but considdering how the Walls of Wano need to come down for Pluton to be released and that can only be done by Zunesha at the command of Momo, I can not imagine Crocodile making a beeline for Pluton right now 'cause he should not be able to get it even if he found out how to access it) (Also while on Pluton, you could argue Crocodile reuniting with Robin could have emotional weight but I'm not sure what that would achieve for either character (also Robin would never in a million years just hand over Pluton to Crocodile), same for Vivi (also IDK how those two would even meet again))

Not to mention I have no fucking idea how Crocodile's past with Iva-chan would even tie into any of that??? I mean sure he could just be trans for the sake of being trans and without it being like an important plotpoint beyond Iva-chan being able to blackmail him at Impel Down, but also??? Is that not a little unnececary considdering there would've been many other ways to convince Crocoboy to behave in Impel Down???

But you know what really would explain Crocodile's lingering presence in the story and would tie his character to someone else on an emotional level in a way that could push either his or someone else's character arc forward???

Fucking??? Crocodad???????

Like boom, you'd immidiately be able to tie his character to our beloved protagonist and the two seeing each other would have like more meaning than just "Luffy encountering the asshole who tried to kill him and now needs to fight again probably". And while I don't think Crocodad would do anything to move Luffy's character ahead (since he probably would not give a shit if he found out Crocodile was his dad, since Crocodile was a dickbag and Luffy doesn't care about blood connections), I think it would do a lot to Crocodile's character

Because like. I go back and I think about Marineford and Crocodile's outburst at Whitebeard. His emotional arc. If Crocodad was real, then right before the outburst Crocodile would've have realized that Luffy was his son and would be currently dealing with the implications of that. Then he'd have to watch The Son of a Binch Who Beat His Ass get stabbed, which would piss one off anyways. But then he needs to remember that Whitebeard's been stabbed by one of his own, while trying to save another one of his sons, and Crocodile might realize how that sight of Whitebeard might be like a cruel premonition for himself, as he goes off to try to protect his own son

And sure, Crocodile made it out of Marineford alive, but god knows, if we get like a Marineford 2 and shit starts going down, if this man is Luffy's actual father and is anywhere near the kid, this binch is dying. He is going to die protecting his son (and arguably, one-up Whitebeard), because as we all know, if you want to protect something ya gotta do it right and if you're not willing to make sacrifices you will never gain anything, even if it means losing your own life

That would absolutely give Crocodile's character an amazing character arc, going from an uncaring asshole who was only interested in whatever benefitted him to giving up his own life for the kid he never was there for (which would also arguably be more than what Garp or Dragon ever did, since one never did as much as lift a finger while the other was going to allow his grandchild to be murdered)

Also Crocodile being Luffy's dad would tie his past with Ivankov to his character really well and it'd be a much bigger point than just him being trans for the sake of being trans

Also him having ties to the Revolutionary Army would then also emotionally tie him to Dragon for some Dragon Lore etc and that could then also tie him into the Revolutionary Army-sideplot if we're lucky

Also. Remember how One Piece goes off often about "inherited will". You know what would be cute. Luffy inheriting his father's dream, his will (of becoming Pirate King).

Also other people have pointed this out but in Chapter 824 Luffy gets to see Dragon's face on the newspaper for the first time and comments how Dragon "doesn't look like him". And like. It could be just a funny little comment of no concequence. Some might even look at the comment to fuel their bizarre "Dragon is Xebec" theories (even though Garp is very explicit about Dragon being his son and the two do look alike actually, like Garp and Dragon have the same nose), but like I think about that comment, and then I think about Luffy making that "I don't know 'cause I'm not a Zoan" comment in fucking Punk Hazard when talking to Momo about using his fruit power. And like. LIKE. MAN. I DUNNO Y'ALL BUT LUFFY'S COMMENT ABOUT DRAGON NOT LOOKING LIKE HIM FEELS A LIL SUS (Also notice how Garp, Dragon and Luffy all have shit on the right side of their faces. Like Dragon has his massive tattoo but Luffy and Garp both have those scars under their eyes. And Crocodile just happens to have a matching scar.)

Also this is absolutely inconsequencial but. Like. Crocodile's favorite food is fucking. Crocodile meat and tomatoes. Fucking. MEAT. Just like Luffy. GOD.

I just. Crocodad would make so much sense on an emotional level for the story. It would make so much sense.

But I just. The timeline doesn't make sense at alllllll

#Moon posting #OP Spoilers #Crocodad #Sir Crocodile #I WANT TO BELIEEEEEVE #Trying to give up on Crocodad because there's no way in a million years it'll ever happen #But #I just #It'd be so good #It would make so much sense #I want it to be real so bad #But there's no way. There's no fucking way.#When will this man release me from the death grip he has me in #Only vaguely related but you know how everyone's been speculating Since Forever that Dragon's Devil Fruit would be like Wind or something #You know isn't it funny how one of Crocodile's iconic attacks is creating a sandstorm. Sand. And wind.#Cute #If anybody has any suggestions as to why Crocodile is still an active character in the story then please go ahead and sound off #He really just could've died off-screen at Marineford or during the timeskip if he wasn't somehow important but here he still is #Why the fuck #Why are you still here #Like I love you but why #There's a part of me wondering if there could be like a twist that Dragon isn't Luffy's father at all and it is actually cis male Crocodile #Who just left Luffy in Dragon's hands for some reason #But I don't enjoy theories that require you to invent new characters (and we'd have to invent a mother in this scenario)#And Luffy does look like Baby Garp a lot #(Sidenote: Luffy Dragon and Garp all have F bloodtypes (our A) while Croco is S (our O))#OP Meta

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beewolfwrites · 1 year

Text

An Iron Box - A Mind Bewitched

Thank you all for being so patient! I’m still not 100% but by next week things should be back to normal :)

The AO3 link is here.

I hope you enjoy!

Edit: Sorry guys, I realised too late that Tumblr got rid of all my italics and formatting. I’ve fixed it now.

__________________________________________________

I had never been particularly concerned with my appearance. However, even I was glad to change out of my singed swimwear. Those awful shorts hadn’t been my first choice, although it was a shame about my hoodie. I had grown quite attached to it.

Now cleaner, and dressed in actual clothes like a sane human being, I was reclining on the couch in our “living room” while Kuina and (name) made a cacophony of noise in the tiny staff kitchen. What had started as a decision to make dinner together now resulted in an orchestra of pots and pans, miscellaneous clatters and the clack of cutlery on the tile floor.

I busied myself with the tiny map of the subway station. This scrap of paper would lead me to the answers I craved, but which station would be best to enter through? If the small hole in the paper marked out a den, then it had to be somewhere hidden along the tracks instead of at a station entrance where players could easily discover it.

But which station?

My thoughts were interrupted by a particularly loud clatter. The door opened and (name) appeared, carrying two steaming bowls with spoons inside. (Name) handed me one of the bowls, which contained a hearty-looking vegetable stew, and sat on the other end of the couch whilst Kuina plopped down in an armchair, a third bowl in her lap. Kuina immediately spooned some of the stew into her mouth, only to spit it back into the bowl.

‘Argh!’ She fanned her tongue with her hand. ‘It’s so hot!’

‘I would never have guessed by the steam,’ I said, setting down my spoon to let the stew cool for a while.

Kuina prodded the chewed mush in her bowl, and I was mildly perturbed by the fact that she still planned on eating it. Ever the dramatic, she felt around her mouth with a finger. ‘I think I’ve scalded my gums.’

‘What a surprise.’

Her eyes narrowed and she placed her bowl on a side table. ‘What’s got your boxers in a twist? You’re even more sarcastic than usual.’

The comment was so stupid, it didn’t even deserve a response. Finally lifting a spoonful of stew to my lips, I blew on it before eating. And within one bite, I knew that Kuina couldn’t possibly have cooked this. I had tasted her experiments before, and it was a mistake I had no intention of ever repeating.

‘It’s good,’ I said to (name).

She smiled quietly, cradling her warm bowl close to her body. ‘It’s nothing much. Just something I threw together.’

We ate quietly, leaving the cutlery on the coffee table to be cleaned up later. However, as the sun set and the sky darkened, it became a little too quiet. Something had changed. The city beyond the window was swept in shadows with no sign of life. And no games.

‘What d’you think will happen when our visas run out?’ Kuina asked, staring out at the empty apartment blocks and offices.

‘It probably has something to do with the Ten of Hearts,’ (name) replied. ‘Maybe there’s no need for games anymore, since we’ve got all the numbered cards.’

The change was definitely due to the Ten of Hearts, which only confirmed at least part of Hatter’s original theory. Even if the cards didn’t send one person home - which I knew already - perhaps collecting them had been a trial. The deck lay heavy in my pocket, carrying so much weight for just a simple pack of cards. Whoever was running these games had been working quietly behind the scenes so far. Now, what would they do?

What are they thinking?

The night stretched on, and although I was occupied with studying my paper map to work out the best route to take, I began to notice Kuina’s futile attempts at hiding her yawns behind her hand. (Name) was curled up on the other end of the couch, her eyes closed in restfulness. Between them, it was Kuina who gave into exhaustion first and headed off to bed. With a not-so-subtle wink, she disappeared upstairs.

And naturally, in Kuina’s absence, (name) slid along the couch until she was pressed into my side, her face angled over my shoulder to see the map in my hand. Heat radiated from her body, her arm and thigh brushing against mine. She was far too close for comfort, but surprisingly, I didn’t hate it.

She leaned in closer, if such a thing was possible. ‘Isn’t that…’

‘Ah.’ She remembered well. ‘I took it from the tagger’s pocket.’

‘What is it?’

‘Well, I have an idea.’

Sluggish, she leaned her head against my shoulder, and I couldn’t help but tense under the unfamiliar weight. The sweet scent of her hair overwhelmed my senses. She smelled like flowers and fresh air.

‘Aren’t you going to tell me?’ She murmured, yawning into her palm.

‘And if I don’t want to?’

It’s more fun if you work it out.

She snuggled into my cardigan, perhaps enjoying the softness. ‘Then I’ll just stay here and annoy you until your visa runs out.’

I could think of worse ways to die. However, her words had reminded me.

Our visas.

Once again, I looked out of the window. Midnight had passed several minutes ago, yet nothing had changed. There were no games, and no lasers. ‘I have a feeling that won’t happen anytime soon.’ I felt (name) twitch by my side, perhaps unsettled by this new change. However, if we were to find out what it meant, we needed to find the dealer’s den. ‘I believe it’s a map.’

‘And that hole in the paper,’ she replied. ‘Do you think that’s where the others are? The dealers, I mean.’

My shoulder was beginning to ache, and I shifted a little to the side to ease the pressure. If I asked her to move, she would probably misconstrue it in some way or another, and I would have Kuina nagging at me tomorrow. However, the pressure lifted itself away as (name) sat upright. She leaned closer to the map, analysing the entangled scribbles, then uttered two words.

‘The subway…’

Clever girl.

I couldn’t help but smile. ‘I went to the nearest subway station this morning to check it against the real map. It’s a loose fit, but it works.’

She looked at the map with intrigue. ‘Maybe if we find the place, we’ll get some answers.’

‘Probably. But I’m curious to see if anything changes within the next few days.’

She yawned into her hand again. ‘Do you think we’ll hear something soon?’

Even if we did, you’d sleep through it at this rate.

With her half-lidded eyes and dusty pink cheeks, she was at risk of falling asleep right here on top of me. ‘I believe we will,’ I told her. ‘But right now, I think you should go to sleep.’

She didn’t protest when I detangled myself from her hold. Or at least, she didn’t have the energy to. And personally, I didn’t have the energy to protest about her crawling straight into my bed instead of her own. I kept plenty of distance between us, in case she become too excited and start crossing all kinds of boundaries. However, I had to admit, I found peace in watching the stresses and lines of her face relax as she sank deeper into sleep. She often slept flat on her back, head lolling to the side and hair splayed out over the pillow. Then - and only then - would I allow my hand to touch the glossy ends of her locks. The colour and texture was unlike anything I had experienced here in Japan. Perhaps that was the only reason I was drawn to it.

Yet as I ran my fingers through the soft silk, I realised there was something comforting about it. About her presence. It soothed that hollow ache deep inside.

_________________________________________________

Minami-Aoyama station.

It had taken a little while to work out the subway station that would direct us to the mysterious hole in the map. However, this was it. The three of us were standing at the top of the staircase leading down into the platform, Kuina and (name) peering into the darkness with uncertainty.

When I looked into those black depths, I felt a rush. A thrill. A new piece of the puzzle was finally within my reach. Hands in my pockets, I fingered the deck of cards.

Almost...

‘Are you sure this is it?’

Kuina had asked the same question three times now, and I was beginning to wonder if she had short-circuited. (Name) looked at the route map printed over the station entrance.

‘Positive,’ she said.

Kuina pursed her lips. Then folding her arms, she began to descend the staircase. I felt around in my pocket for a small torch, which I had found in a toolbox in a storage cupboard. Flicking on the beam, I followed after Kuina, whilst (name) began to trail behind me. Checking the paper map against the direction of each rail-line, I directed them towards the correct platform.

‘This way.’

It was a steep drop onto the train tracks, however in the thick darkness that engulfed the tunnel, the torch became our only guiding light. I shone the beam on the tracks, the three of us trudging through the gravel in pensive silence, wary of stumbling upon something we shouldn’t — a trap, perhaps. Some form of deterrent to kill or keep players from discovering this hideout. We walked on, and I occasionally lifted the beam, shining it on the tunnel walls.

It should be around here somewhere.

And there it was. By chance, the edge of the beam caught the metal of a door. The door was cracked open, and there was a panel with a keypad on the wall beside it. Presumably, the dealers had needed to enter a passcode to enter, which would explain the lack of traps. But if that was the case…

Why is the door open?

I stopped. Directly behind me, (Name) skidded on the gravel, her hand fisting the back of my cardigan to keep from running straight into me. I raised the beam, revealing the door in full.

‘That must be it.’ Kuina's whisper echoed through the tunnel.

I didn’t hesitate, approaching the door and walking straight through into what appeared to be a dark, concrete walkway. The air was cold, and there was a mustiness that cloyed at my throat and lungs with every intake of breath. Hearing scuffles and curses from back in the tunnel, I paused, shining my torch at the doorway. Kuina and (Name) emerged, flustered and rubbing at their elbows. If they found it this difficult to walk through a door, it was truly a wonder that they had survived so many Spades games.

Kuina caught my eye, glaring daggers at me. ‘Hey! Don’t do that again! You’re the only one with a light here.’

‘Walk faster then,’ I said as they caught up. I smiled as (name) muttered a string of profanities under her breath, some too explicit to translate for Kuina.

However, my smile disappeared as I turned the beam down the walkway. Something glistened in the blackness. The other two froze, having also noticed it. I followed the walkway, keeping my eye on this mysterious glimmer, a reflection of sorts, growing larger and larger, increasing in number as we approached what appeared to be a large structure.

Well, this is more interesting than I had thought.

The structure consisted of endless television screens, running right up to the ceiling in rows and columns, curving around one another to create several large watch-rooms. Wires and cables hung across the ceiling like vines. Small concrete tunnels ran between each watch-room joined them together in a network.

We walked closer, entering one of the tunnels that led into a central watch-room. I could feel (name) hovering by my side, her breath ragged with anxiety. It was silly. She had nothing to fear whatsoever. Because inside, the watch-room was set up like an office, filled with desks, chairs, papers strewn here and there, used mugs, snacks, pinboards of post-its, and more notably, bodies.

There were bodies everywhere.

They were hunched over desks, sprawled across the floor, limp in chairs. But there was something rather curious about these bodies. A pattern, so to speak. Their heads bore the same singed holes running from head to chin, their eyes bloodshot. Every single person in the room had been struck by a laser.

So this is the game we’re playing, hm?

(Name) squatted down, her hand hovering over the body of a man in a suit. ‘What… is this?’

This is the game-master’s handiwork.

She inspected the charred hole in the man’s crown. ‘They’re not the ones in charge of the game.’

My eyes caught sight of something rather familiar tucked underneath a pen pot. A scrap of paper. Pulling it out, I read through the notes. It was filled with roman numerals, all written in different colours of pen, some ticked off. A visa tally.

I passed it to (name). ‘Evidently not.’

She scanned the paper, her eyes widening as she realised exactly what she was looking at. Her expression was one of disgust, and she tossed it back on the desk.

‘So, these guys were the dealers.’ Kuina held up a piece of paper for us to see. It was covered in numbers and scribbles. I picked out some rather interesting looking nicknames - “girl in blue hoodie”, “fat dude”, “baldy” - along with some items like shampoo, chicken wings, and cookies. Items that held value in a world without currency. In other words… ‘They were betting on us,’ Kuina said.

Well, at least they knew how to have fun.

Personally, the thought didn’t bother me. In a place like this, it was only natural for people to try and make the best of a bad situation. Coping mechanisms were strangely fascinating. However, (name’s) coping mechanisms were clearly failing her. She was shaking lightly, and her eyes roved over the pieces of paper dotted around the room with a disturbed horror as she came the the very same conclusion I had. That their visas were tied to the number of deaths in each game. Even by surviving alone, we had potentially caused a person’s death. I stepped out from behind her, tracing my fingertip against the goosebumps on the back of her arm.

‘Momoka’s friend,’ she said, ‘she died right after she told everyone she was a dealer. And the taggers died because we won. I have a feeling their visas depended on whether or not we cleared each game… or maybe how many people didn’t make it.’

‘It doesn’t explain why they’re all dead now.’

She winced slightly, casting her eyes over the bodies around us. ‘Actually, I have a bad feeling about that too.’

Before she could speak further, something echoed from back at the walkway entrance.

Footsteps.

Without thinking, my thumb slid over the switch of the torch, plunging us into darkness once more. I grabbed (name) by the wrist and pulled her into the small tunnel at the back of the watch-room. Kuina skidded inside, hiding in the shadows behind us.

I kept my eyes trained on the original tunnel we had entered through, listening carefully to the clap of footsteps as two torch beams swung in different directions. This was more than one person. But who? Somewhere in the darkness just outside the watch-room, a voice echoed.

‘Where is this place?’

‘Who knows?’

Oh? I’m impressed.

Two figures emerged through the entrance, two faces I didn’t expect in a place like this. That was my mistake. I should have realised sooner. In spite of his clueless appearance, Arisu did have a knack for solving puzzles. Arisu and Usagi hesitantly looked over the room, taking in the televisions, the bodies, the laser wounds. Arisu looked better, less bruised, and no longer dribbling blood and spreading sentimentality like a saint. Beside me, (name) sighed in relief. I brushed past her and stepped into the watch-room once more.

‘You actually found this place. As expected from someone I have high hopes for.’

Kuina walked around the room before leaning against one of the walls. ‘We meet again,’ she said with a nod.

Instead of addressing me or Kuina, the two peered over my shoulder, frowning in confusion. I glanced behind me where (name), awkward as ever, was grimacing with a little wave of her fingers. Idiot. She was probably still embarrassed by the whole stealing-the-cards ordeal.

What’s done is done.

‘You guys,’ Usagi whispered warily. Clearly she didn’t share the same sentiment.

Pulling the deck of cards from my pocket, I attempted to diffuse the tension. ‘Thanks to you guys, I have all the playing cards with me.’ I smiled as politely as I could. ‘Thank you.’

Usagi blinked in disbelief. Meanwhile, Arisu actually had his priorities straight. ‘How did you discover this place?’ He asked.

I took the scrap of paper from my pocket and held it open. ‘It took me some time to realise this is actually a map. The route map of the subway.’ Sliding it back into my pocket, I strolled around the desks. ‘As for what happens when we collect the cards… I thought I would know the answer if I came here.’ I caught (name’s) eye across the room. ‘But there’s something else we discovered instead.’

Arisu seemed to be entranced by the number of bodies around us. ‘They’re not the gamemasters.’

(Name) stepped over an arm as she crossed the room. ‘Because we collected the cards, they were all killed.’ I could see her struggling to form the right grammar. I had almost forgotten how patchwork her Japanese was. ‘There must be someone above them,’ she added in English, looking pointedly at me for help.

Unamused, I translated on her behalf, and Usagi frowned deeply. ‘But who?’

I shrugged. There were a number of possibilities. ‘Who knows? They might be aliens.’ From the corner of my eye, I saw Arisu’s skeptical face. I turned to him, perfectly serious. ‘Or even God.’

Suddenly, a screen blinked.

The watch-room lit up as every screen in the room flickered to life, glaring a bright white. (Name) flocked to my side. Music - trumpets - echoed from an unknown source, and in the centre of the room, the televisions displayed the four card suits along with the words “Special Urgent Broadcast”.

And who exactly is broadcasting this, I wonder.

‘Congratulations to all players!’

My curiosity was quelled instantly. Emerging through the speakers, that tinny yet familiar voice answered almost every question I had. I was pleasantly surprised.

I have to say, you had me fooled…

Stretched across the televisions before us, Mira’s enthusiastic features came into view one by one, blurring then focusing to reveal her dark attire, her long hair, and a curious glint in her beady eyes. So she was the spy at the Beach. The one who switched off the generators, who organised the Witch Hunt, who had been keeping an eye on our “utopia” from the inside all along.

But that also meant…

The Eight of Diamonds - Open Market. Back then, the game had taken me off-guard. The decision to place me in the jewellery store, and the answer to the final question. Had Mira been watching the two of all along?

‘How interesting,’ I mused. What exactly would she get out of toying with us?

Cold fingers brushed my wrist as (name) slipped her hand into my pocket. I was acutely aware of Arisu and Usagi’s presence, but since they were more concerned with the disjointed image of Mira before us, I allowed her this. I laced my fingers around hers, brushing my thumb against the smoothness of her skin.

Mira was quivering with excitement. ‘With the exception of the face cards,’ she said, ‘you’ve cleared the numbered games and emerged as victors. It’s a sweet victory, gained by sacrificing so many lives.’ She stood up, as if locked in a trance. ‘I wonder, how many of your comrades have died. Try remembering those who were shot dead with guns.’

One of the screens changed, playing game footage of a group standing around. They were gripping guns close to their chests as they inspected a pile of bodies on the floor, nudging them with their feet.

‘And that girl you burned alive,’ Mira added. Another television screen showed a large billowing flame, which upon closer inspection, was actually a girl waving her arms wildly as her body drowned in embers.

Perhaps they didn’t have footage of Niragi.

‘Those struck by lasers, and those that drowned.’

(Name’s) hand tightened around mine. I followed her glassy stare to a television screen directly across from us, where I instantly recognised the furniture store. But this time, it was different. A table and chairs were fixed in the centre of the room, where two men leapt from their seats. At that same moment, lasers pierced them where they stood, and their bodies tumbled to the ground. And there she was, doe eyed and trembling.

Your first game…

It was a game of “Rummy”, if I remembered correctly. I squeezed her hand in return, and she eased the pressure a little.

Oblivious, Mira continued in her wistful dream. ‘Those whose heads were blown off,’ she mused. ‘Those comrades of yours, the despair you’ve felt so far, and those dying moment you’ll never forget.’

A number of screens changed at once, each displaying various game footage. In one, I noticed Arisu’s former friend. His partner with the Hawaiian shirt and blond hair who had joined him in the Tag game. In this, he was surrounded by botanical plants, his head lolling as his collar exploded in a spray of blood.

The screens changed one by one, alternating between various games, various deaths. Meanwhile, Mira’s face cracked into a delighted grin. ‘Everyone,’ she breathed, clutching her heart. ‘I’m so touched!’ She hesitated, smirking with mischief. ‘All of you players, we’d like to give you a present.’

Hm? There must be more of you.

But just how many more? Were there other spies in the Beach? It was a small slip, but it raised another bout of questions. And as (name) had stiffened slightly, I knew that she had caught it too.

‘Are you returning us to the real world? Kuina asked, hopefully.

Mira clapped her hands together, shaking with barely restrained mania. ‘There will be new games! Let’s play more games together and fight for the face cards this time!’

The face cards. It was a little too predictable, even for my tastes. And naturally, these new games would be even more challenging. But there was a matter of numbers. Since there were twelve face cards in total, did that mean we would enter regular games without knowing the rules, suit, or difficulty, and have to collect cards in the usual way? Or were there only twelve games to complete?

‘New games?’ Kuina scoffed. ‘You’re kidding.’

New games… new challenges… twelve new puzzles to solve.

‘I don’t dislike the idea,’ I muttered.

Immediately, (name) drew back a little. ‘What do you mean?’

Someone like you wouldn’t understand.

I met her eye, holding back the very comment that had run through my mind. It would only end with yet another argument.

Mira continued, cordial and vibrant. ‘The next stage will commence tomorrow at noon. Everyone, let’s have fun together!’

And as if someone had pulled a plug, the televisions shut down in unison, the watch-room slipping into blackness once more. Nobody spoke for a long moment, even to address what we had just witnessed, and it was Arisu who eventually decided that it would be best to leave. Kuina followed him, along with Usagi, leaving (name) and I in the empty watch-room.

She was still gripping my hand in the warmth of my pocket. I didn’t pull mine away, nor did I try to explain what I had said earlier. Finally, after a moment of tense silence, she spoke.

‘These games, they’re going to be harder than the others.’

There was no point in denying it. After a silence, I replied with, ‘Probably.’

‘About what you said before,’ she whispered. ‘Do you remember that time on the rooftop of the Beach, when I asked you if you were okay, and you told me it shouldn’t matter to me?’

Back then…

It was right after the Hunting Season game, the measly Two of Spades that had left me with a gash in my side. All that time ago, and yet she still hadn’t learned her lesson. She should have been more concerned with her own safety. But it wasn’t worth the lecture now.

‘I remember.’

‘What I said then still stands. You might not care about your own life, and I can’t stop you from taking part in these new games.’ She chewed on her lip, her eyes welling up. ‘Perhaps this is selfish of me, but you need to survive. And if you can’t do it for yourself, then…’ she trailed off.

I had heard enough. ‘You cry too much,’ I said. Her affection was better spent on Kuina, or even Arisu and Usagi. It was wasted on this empty shell of a human being. But that was a conversation for another day. ‘We should find the others.’

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and released my hand at last. We walked back through the tunnels, emerging from the station steps into the bright sunshine of Tokyo where the others were standing out in the open, squinting up at the sky. A series of bangs crackled through the air, as fireworks exploded into red, purple and green flowers that sizzled against the skyline.

Fireworks.

Where had I last seen fireworks? I pushed away the thought, watching the display with no particular interest. Things like fireworks had never excited me. Nothing much did. And yet, here I was, craving the lost warmth of her fingers once more. How was it that someone so hopelessly naive could bewitch my mind in its entirety? Dredging this box from the seabed with her presence alone — a train whistle with the power to break through iron.

‘Let’s make a new deal,’ I said. ‘I’ll survive, if you return the favour.’

I could feel her eyes on me, and I knew that she was smiling, just like she always did when she was truly at peace.

‘It’s a deal.’

#alice in borderland #Imawa no Kuni no Arisu #aib #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #Chishiya x reader #chishiya x oc

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tobiasdrake · 6 months

Text

That escalated quickly. @_@

STILL!? I'm relieved but him appearing to us in ghost form seemed pretty conclusive.

He never did tell us what ability he was trying to cultivate into a Forte. Maybe he's telepathic or something? I don't know. I'm simultaneously relieved and outraged that he's still hanging in there!

You know, now that I get a chance to look at him up close, check out that stab wound. It contrasts with what I was saying about the three (and maybe more) wounds on Huesca.

Huesca was killed by repeated stabbings to the torso, which seems oddly amateurish for a professional killer with total control over the situation - unless emotionally or financially motivated to draw it out and make the victim suffer.

Yakou only has one stab wound in his abdomen. His injury is grievous. But it's not necessarily lethal. There is a chance for Yakou to recover. This implies that Fink was not necessarily trying to kill Yakou.

I mean, he wasn't trying not to kill Yakou. But he wasn't trying to kill Yakou either. Most violence is not performed with intent to kill or not kill; Killing or not killing is simply a consequence that happens. You do the violence and then physics and circumstances decide who lives and who dies. This one survivable stab wound says to me that Fink was just engaged in violence with Yakou. Which Fink won.

I mentioned before, Yakou's behavior in even coming here in the first place, then in intentionally splitting up the party? It's suspicious. It's all suspicious and leads me to believe that Yakou came here because he wanted to confront Fink.

The easy assumption to draw from his body is that Fink wanted to kill him. Yakou's the one on the ground bleeding to death. But that only tells us who won the fight. It doesn't tell us who started it. I'm still backing the idea that Yakou attacked Fink. Fink reacted, decisively putting his aggressor down but with little concern for what happens to him after. He wasn't here for Yakou. That's not the job.

That's what I get from this stab wound. If Fink was trying to kill Yakou, there'd be no ambiguity about his survival chances. He'd be in the same condition as Hescua.

Deathbed Yakou managed to nag so hard that he shamed Vivia into letting Shinigami reap some more souls. That would be his superpower, wouldn't it?

But I wanna go with Vivia! He's being cryptic and mysterious about his cool ghost powers and I want to find out what he knows!

Stop saying cool cryptic shit if you're not going to tell me what you're on about, you prick. I wanna kno~ow!

Yes! Thank you, Yuma, for not letting him prance away like a magnificent poof!

Yeah, but that was like five minutes ago. He's not doing it now, so we're cool. That's called professionalism.

On day one of searching for the Secret of Kanai Ward, Vivia probably astral projected straight into Amaterasu HQ and combed through all of their deepest secrets. That's what I'd do. He probably knows everything.

More than you'd think, less than I'd like.

Though sometimes a lack of information or of smarts can result in a mystery being solved incorrectly! Yomi and I both have experience with that.

Request denied. I like to wander aimlessly and search for baubles.

This is where he was stabbed by the hitman. We don't know who started the fight.

Though his shriek when we were in the lab did seem to imply he was the one under attack, so maybe I had the wrong of it on that. Hmm....

We didn't get a good look at him. Fortunately, the Profiles record has this killer shot of him.

Check out that killer rounded jaw. Nobody we know has that jaw. Well, Makoto might but he's spindly enough that I think he has a pointed jaw like most of our peers.

If we find that jaw, we find Fink the Slaughter Artist.

Also apparently we know his weight for some reason and it's only 244.2 Furbies. Not quite the 338.5 Furbies needed to knock our Ama-Pal over. So that's interesting. Either he was carrying 100 or so Furbies in his arms when he did that, or I'm taking the wrong understanding from Ama-Pal's load capacity.

Fink's signature knife. Although now that I'm looking at it up close, I don't see blood on that knife. The knife that was used to stab Yakou should have blood on it. Is that not the knife?

I thought it was weird that it was lying on the floor randomly. When we found Huesca, the knife was left sticking out of the corpse. If that's how Fink kills, then why would he remove his knife from Yakou? And if he didn't, then Yakou did. Why would Yakou pull a knife out of a wound and open himself up to death by blood loss?

I have a low opinion of Yakou personally but he's not an idiot. He would know that leaving the obstruction in until he can reach medical treatment is a safer bet than pulling it out.

We only think the man in the hall was Fink because he has the look of a professional hitman, and Yakou pointed at him and said "Fink the Slaughter Artist". That paints a compelling picture of Fink.

But we should consider the possibility that the man in the hall isn't Fink. And also that the man in the hall is Fink, but Fink didn't stab Yakou and... what? Simply left one of his knives there for no reason? Hmm.

What if Yakou is Fink the Slaughter Artist? Wouldn't that be a trip? It'd explain why Fink bothered to leave a death threat for Huesca at our agency, of all places.

They look like something was dragged through the blood. Then... tossed down the grate, perhaps? Maybe the knife that was originally in Yakou's chest? I dunno. That seems like a stretch.

I did notice that Yakou's fingertips were bloody, but I didn't think anything of it at the time.

So it's sort of a drag mark but not of anything moving. He was lying on the side, desperately trying to reach out with a bloody arm. Okay. I'm following. And the thing he was trying to reach was....

That woman is definitely Yakou's dead loved one that he keeps hinting about. She's wearing a lab coat. Amaterasu research staff, most likely. If Yakou was acting on a grudge, this would be the place to do it.

The man in the photo, meanwhile, can't be anyone but Yakou. This is the thing he keeps taking out and looking at, then tucking into his jacket when we walk in.

Ooh, I'm down to bend over and look at the cover page of confidential documents. That might be interesting.

Strictly for investigative purposes, I assure you. This isn't at all about the Secret of Kanai Ward or the mysterious homunculus research. We simply have no choice but to snoop around Amaterasu's secret files. Definitely. No impropriety here....

Yomi is the only person who can enter or exit this room. Obviously, it would be impossible for Fink to have entered this room. Absolutely nothing relevant to our case could possibly be found in there. Let's check it out anyway, because whoa-ho-ho if we DO find something relevant!?!?

Incidentally, Yomi is a pretty boy with a pointed chin so he is a negative for Fink's killer jawline. He also has an alibi for the time of Yakou's stabbing. It's a pretty strong one, too. He was threatening to have me shot at the time, so I can testify to its validity.

Yuma's too honest to capitalize on this opportunity but I'm glad Vivia and I were on the same page.

So Yomi's in on the Secret of Kanai Ward. It's not happening behind his back; He's part of it.

...what the fuck.

What the fuck.

We know where that map went, y'all. We know who took the map. Yakou had the map. How did Yakou have the map. How did Yakou enter--

Wait, hold up, there are computer desks in here. Two of 'em, even. Before this office was storage, it was used for research. Okay, I was freaking out about how Yakou could enter the storage closet that only Yomi has access to but I bet you this was his lady-friend's office. Yakou may still have her key.

That makes way more sense than... whatever would have to be possible for Yomi and Yakou to enter here together. Yakou having a spare key makes more sense than Yakou being secret chums with Yomi, or Yakou successfully mugging Yomi.

Of course, that raises new questions. Specifically, what did Yakou want with a map of the facility? What could it possibly have told him?

He was gripping it with his right hand on the right side when he tucked it away. There's a lot of faint bloodstains on the right side of the page.

There's also some hard-to-make-out bloodstains over the Panel Room. Could this map have... somehow contained the code to get through the Panel Room? And then he wiped it off with blood? No, that's nonsense. I'm talking gibberish right now.

But this map is important for something.

...

Maybe Yakou came here with a personal grudge against Huesca. Remember when I said that the answer to how Fink beat the gas chamber could be as simple as "He didn't"? Maybe Yakou waded through the gas chamber, solved the Panel Room somehow, and then killed Huesca.

Then, being poisoned as he was, he only had thirty minutes to live. He came here to commit murder-suicide for revenge, using the death threat letters as his cover. So he used whatever tricks got the killer out of the lab (hiding in the decontamination vent in the airlock is the closest thing to an answer we have there).

Then, once he was in the hall, he stabbed himself to cover up his own cause of death? Or possibly he ran into the real Fink the Slaughter Artist who came here to get the guy impersonating him?

Mm. Like all the other possibilities, it's not a perfect theory and it doesn't suit all of the facts.

#master detective archives: rain code #drake plays rain code

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cryptramesses · 1 year

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It's Morally Unsound to Worship Apophis. Why?

Yes I am using His Greek name, no it's not dangerous to do so. But I wanted to clear the air a bit since I'm seeing a lot of people talk about Him and having been practicing for so long, I figured my opinion is just as valid as everyone else's and maybe it can provide more of an answer other than 'He's bad cause I say so' or 'He's good cause I say so'.

Additionally this is extremely long so take some time to sit down and actually dissect what I'm writing about here, cause it's a doozy.

So to start let me just introduce myself a bit. The question of 'why does your opinion hold weight' is something that is asked quite often. We, as humans, should all try our best to make sure our sources are accurate. We don't want to get involved with people who are not credible in their research or their beliefs, or who go 'I'm right because I say so'. Formulating an opinion or a belief on half baked facts and incomplete truths is overall an unwise decision. A large portion of mistakes made by people are made because they aren't fully knowledgeable of the situation. With that being said allow me to explain my credibility.

I am, by no means, the upmost and foremost authority on Kemet. I don't think anyone can be. There will always be information that is unrecoverable and there will always be hypotheses that remain unsolved and unanswered. However it is worth noting that the information comes from the source, the texts written so long ago. The ideas I'm bringing forth come from tales and mythology, raw forms of it might I add translated agonizingly by my own hand, and archaeological evidence, as well as just plain old experience.

With that being said my opinions and beliefs aren't finite. They are flexible and change over time. What I say now may not be how I feel about these things in the future. My theories, experiences, and thoughts are just a portion of the story. After experimenting with my own belief for the entirety of my life I've learned a lot. Apophis is just a natural stepping stone to learning all that you can about Kemeticism, and one that everyone eventually has to confront. I am here to say He isn't some boogieman.

The fact of the matter is that, as much as we don't want to say it, things change. How the people of Kemet viewed Apophis back in the Old Kingdom is not the same way that the people of Kemet viewed Apophis when the kingdom fell. Over time beliefs change, power dynamics shift, and ideas slowly alter over time. We must accept that nothing can stay stagnant, even the Gods have ever changing temperaments and feelings. Lord Ra is an excellent example of this. Once upon a time one could liken Him to a tyrant, almost hateful of His human creations, but as time has gone on He has become a lot more calm, peaceful, and understanding. He has gone from a more iron-fist ruler, to a benevolent King that is a guiding figure for anyone in the practice.

We must recognize, in order to formulate an opinion, that there is no clear cut answer, and that this answer will probably not be the same 100 years into the future. Humans need to be fluid in all things if we ever wish to have a chance at understanding the divine, moreover if we ever want to evolve and become better morally as well. Just like the morality of a species changes over time, so too should religious beliefs and values. We are all innately aware of Abrahamic religions and it's very stagnant and steadfast belief systems, these being single-handedly one of the biggest moral setbacks of the human population, leading to things like massive genocide of people simply for their different opinions. We, as Kemetic Pagans, should be willing to change and evolve in order to prevent slipping into old habits.

But that brings back the original point of this section of this post -- why am I trustworthy in conveying this information? Simply put I understand innately that this is a flexible topic, and will probably become outdated within the next year or two. Moreover I also just have a lot of experience in the field. When I say I spent my whole life involved in this practice, I genuinely mean it. Yet at the same time, despite spending my whole life doing just that, my opinion is not solid. I just hope you take what I say and formulate your own feelings about it and share those with me so we, as a community, can learn from each other and create an equal, common, and unified stance on this topic. I can be seen as credible, sure, but I'm not infallible, and I don't want anyone to view me as such.

Next thing I want to do is talk about names. Names in Kemet are a symbol of power. It's why when you write a name out in the Divine Language (Medu Neter if you will) you are meant to circle it as a symbol of protection. It prevents people from taking that name and using it in ways that are less than benevolent. This is also why you should have multiple names on standby, should you ever figure out the full original name for which you were created by you should never share it, instead using aliases when referring to yourself. This can be seen best by the many names of a Pharaoh. Additionally once you have something's, or someone's, name, you can give it power as well as seal it. Aliases are meant to prevent people from doing just that, from taking power away from, as well as giving power to, something or someone.

As far as I've experienced, writing the name out in anything but Medu Neter does very little, if nothing at all. I think it's simply due to the fact that the hieroglyphic writing is that of Lord Tehuti himself, and therefore has more power and significance than say the roman/latin alphabet. So if you wrote out Apophis' name (that being A/p/e/p without the slashes -- censoring for the comfort of those reading), the sheer fact it is spelt using roman/latin characters takes away a lot of significant energy or power.

The anxiety surrounding writing the name is fair and warranted, nobody wants to tempt fate(a good philosophy to have when dabbling in anything remotely occult), but I do wish to make it clear so that way people aren't throwing themselves into fits of rage because a newcomer wrote out Apophis' name without censorship when they haven't been taught better. That's a one-way ticket to chasing someone out of the faith, no question, and all over something relatively harmless. Granted it's not net zero, but neither is smoking a cigarette or brushing your teeth, so we owe newbies a bit of patience in that regard since we too aren't innocent of our own mistakes.

I do, however, encourage people use the name Apophis when referring to Him vocally. Simply put it's His Greek name, and one that does not give Him any power. How do I know this? Well because it sounds nothing like His actual name other than the fact that it starts with an A and has two p's in it. You are, in effect, using an alias. Once again aliases do not give something power as stated earlier. They don't take away power either, but that's not what we should be focusing on anyhow. I'll get into why in a bit.

Saying the name A/p/e/p (again censored for your guys' comfort, I personally wouldn't censor it in my private writing and research) is bad luck. There's no way around that. I can't say it does anything too large to help Him, because you're not putting any real weight behind it, but it just isn't good to do so. You, in effect, annoy any other entity around you who may have any negative relationship with Him. It's like your best friend bringing up your toxic ex when you asked them not to, it's not nice, and you certainly would want to get away from your best friend for bringing it up. Not out of malice, but because it just leaves a super sour taste in your mouth. The Gods are no different in this feeling.

To circle back around to a point a made a few lines up though, intention means a lot. Saying Apophis' name with negative or neutral intentions does change what you're doing. Is it bad luck? Sure. But will it help Him if you say His name with a negative or neutral energy? No not really. Not at all in fact. Even if you do say it with a positive connotation though, like in worship or praise, the fact of the matter is this is negligible.

That's another thing I want to address, those who worship Apophis. I do not agree with those people, but in the end we shouldn't shun them or throw them down for it. Chances are they don't know any better or are worshipping an image of Apophis from one of the many eras of Kemet's history where He was seen in a more favorable light. There is a time and a place for all deities, Apophis included, which I will get to in a minute. But the thing I want to address here, in this particular paragraph, is that no matter how many people worship Apophis, He will not be able to overpower Lord Ra.

Deities' strength are directly tied to the humans that worship them. There is innate power there, of course, but every human that worships them at any given time, adds a small tick of power to them. This power does not go away over time. It does not dissipate. Say you worship Lord Ra, well that means you are feeding into the same power I am giving him, you are also feeding into the same power that Pharaohs like Seti I gave him. Even though Pharaoh Seti I worshipped him thousands of years ago does not mean the power given unto Lord Ra is gone. It's still there, and Apophis has a lot of catching up to do.

So I know that reddit is doing what reddit does best and doing things they shouldn't really be doing -- but the fact of the matter is no spell written to help Apophis conquer Lord Ra will work, at least not within our lifetimes. There's just not enough strength given to Apophis regardless of the amount of people worshipping him now. The sun will rise tomorrow, we don't need to worry about it. Can we be upset about it? Yes, but let's get one thing straight, we shouldn't be upset because we think Lord Ra will fail to conquer the serpent. We should be upset because of what the symbolic nature of doing this is.

How I see it there are three types of Worshippers of Apophis. The first are those that just want to be part of a type of counter culture. These are your 'edgy' folk. These are the people that wish to worship Apophis because they think it's cool, not because they think it's worth while. From what I've seen of the lack of true understanding of this deity within this type of group, this is the conclusion I've come to. People who are upset with their lives and wish to throw a tantrum by rebelling against the group they believed harmed them, even though the group at large is probably not responsible for their bad experience, and thus shouldn't be punished for it.

We see this a lot with other groups too, and Kemetic Paganism isn't the first religion to face this type of counter-culture. It is unfair to compare the worship of Apophis to Satanism, as Satanism in my opinion is a lot less troublesome for a number of reasons and is widely a harmless philosophy when practiced properly as it was founded, but if you want an example of something founded for sheer counter-culture sake, the history of Satanism is honestly the closest and most well known thing I could come up with.

The second type of worshipper are those that don't fully understand the weight of worshipping a deity like Apophis. These are the types of people who are relatively new to the practice. I can't fault them nor be mad at them for not understanding what they are doing. When everyone is screaming 'Apophis is bad for x reason' and not fully explaining the why outside of three sentence text posts that amount to a simple 'cause I said so' or 'cause the legends say so' it gets a bit redundant. No, not a single person is convinced by that, no it's not your job to convince them otherwise, but then at the same time you can't get angry when they do it anyways. Moreover there is only so much you can do to convince them to not do it anyways before you get into the 'taking away other people's autonomy' section of help. Sometimes you just gotta let people do bad things and stay in your lane.

It sucks, sure, but that's just one of the set backs of being alive. They're not comiting a crime, so you have no power to stop them. You do have options to counter them if you want, but that's still a moral gray area because then you get dangerously close to doing baneful or binding magick and that's, again, entering the 'taking away people's autonomy' section of the argument. It does not matter how morally unsound you see worshipping Apophis to be, you don't know the full side of the story, and to not stay in your lane for this is a violation of your duties as a Kemetic Pagan. So let me just get that out of the way.

For people in this category, educate them if you want, but don't force them. Either get them to walk away through education or get them into the next category, but after that point it is not your business and it's not within your right to do any more. Even then, to go into educating a person to get them to essentially convert is also not the most morally sound either. That just reeks of Christianity, so take caution when pursuing this education route.

The last type of worshipper are those that fully know what they are getting themselves into and worship anyways. These people you cannot stop, should not stop, and should not even concern yourself with as this is where we get into extreme territories. These people know what Apophis stands for, knows why He exists, and don't give a fuck. I commend, but also distance myself from, these people as they are the definition of 'I know what I'm doing is wrong, but I don't care'. In that regard trying to convince them is stupid, worthless, and not even a valid thing to try and do. They are happy with what they are doing and while we know it's not the morally sound thing to do, as I'll get into in a moment, it's even more morally unsound to try and force them to fit our ideal perspective of morally correct.

What would set us apart from the Christians to do that? We would be exactly the same. Moreover we can't even say with 100% certainty that worshipping Apophis is evil. We are pretty sure it is, but nobody can say without a shadow of a doubt that He is a purely evil deity. None of us were there during the first fateful battle, so none of us have any space to say. We can simply do what our Gods advise us to and let that be it.

So now that we are on the topic of morality, is Apophis evil? It's complicated. Good and Evil are not solid concepts in Kemet. The people of Kemet understood the moral gray that everything fell into. Apophis is no different. But that doesn't mean it's okay to worship Him either. Just because he has some good aspects, does not mean it's smart to follow Him. Every deity has a time and a place, but when I say there are other deities that fill in Apophis' niche while at the same time not pissing off the other Gods, I mean it.

What a lot of people don't bring to the table here is the call to action of Kemetic Paganism. Why do we worship what we do? For faiths like Christianity the call to action would be to make everything the same. Everyone worships the same thin, everyone is saved, therefore you're a good person and don't need to worry about it or Satan. Every belief system has a call to action like this. For Kemetic Paganism this would be the fight between Divine Order and Cosmic Chaos. Lord Ra represents order, Apophis represents Chaos. What does this mean for us though?

Allow me to get really boring really quick and bring up a concept you all may be familiar with -- Entropy. There is a lot to unpack about this topic, but I'll give you the gist of it. Essentially it is a theory that says all things fall into randomness, or chaos, after some time. It's a lot harder to maintain order and organization than it is to maintain randomness or chaos.

Take your bedroom for example. Let's say this bedroom of yours is messy, not so messy that it's impossible to live in, but still messy. There are two ways this can go, either you work against or with Entropy. To work against Entropy would be to clean everything up and put it back in its place. This will not reverse Entropy entirely however, and it takes a lot of energy to do this. Every time you clean your room, at least one thing will not return to its solid place. There will always be an additional unit of chaos or randomness added into the mix. This could be as minute as the Earth in of itself is not in the same place as it hurdles through space, but also it can be as plain to see as you cannot get that potted plant of yours in the exact same spot on your dresser no matter how hard you try. Even though your room is clean, no amount of energy will change it back to a net 0 advancement of Entropy.

Let's view the opposite angle though, working with Entropy. You choose not to clean your bedroom and let things move, change, and shuffle over time. Over time you expend no energy, but your room gets messier and harder to navigate over time. Eventually it becomes unsustainable and your way of life is permanently altered. Your mind cannot function properly in the clutter, your health suffers, other things take up residency, and now you have to even walk different to get in and out of this space. This is the full effects of Entropy.

Evidence points that those of Kemet understood this concept to a degree. The full theoretical impact of it was probably not deeply understood, but the vague concept of all things will eventually go to pure chaos was comprehended. Apophis represents the final state of Entropy. This in of itself is not an evil thing, it is the natural progression of the universe. But what makes it morally unsound is what it means for humans.

Lord Ra won the fight against Apophis, thus making a universe that started with 0 Entropy. But it's not a closed system so, over time, things change (as they always do) and eventually everything will fall to Chaos. We, as humans, are created to live and thrive in an orderly world. Now imagine a world where everything isn't so orderly. There is no predictability, no schedule, no finite existence, no natural order of things. I bet you can't even comprehend what that world would look like. I bet you cannot even begin to fathom what a universe at the final stages of Entropy would be like.

It is those final stages that essentially would exist should Apophis win. Should Apophis win out against Lord Ra, the universe would be on a fast track to pure, unadulterated chaos. This effectively would create an environment no living organism that we know of could thrive in efficiently. This is what ultimately makes this morally unsound to pursue. That's why there are three categories of worshippers.

Most people who worship Apophis do not know His end goal. They don't know what He wants. Defeating Lord Ra is not what His end goal is, and to say that is it would be to lie to oneself. Eventually Lord Ra will, sadly, loose, as is the nature of changing tides. It won't be in our lifetime, but it will happen as Chaos is inevitable (but then it's likely that a new cycle would begin where Lord Ra is fighting against Apophis to bring back order and it would just endlessly loop around -- we won't be there to ever experience it though). But why speed that along? The practitioners who know what they are doing and the sheer end goal of Apophis are not morally sound for a variety of reasons.

They are making a decision for all of humanity in this regard. Let's take a hypothetical that will not happen but let's just use it anyways. Let's say that Apophis defeats Lord Ra, just theoretically. Let's say that the worshippers of Apophis made it happen. Humans are now going to go extinct faster than expected as Entropy runs it's course. How is that fair? Why is a small sect of people allowed to make that decision for the nearly 8 billion people on Earth? That's where the moral gray area lies.

It's not the act of worshipping Apophis that's the problem in of itself, it's the act of knowing what Apophis' goal is. Apophis is not evil, for life forms that will eventually bloom in chaos, things we cannot even begin to comprehend, this is a boon. But for us, as humans, this is a horrible idea. Even if this is all hogwash, because let's admit none of us can definitively say any religious belief isn't, why is it okay we tempt fate in this way anyhow? Now don't get me wrong, I am not telling anyone how to live their life. If you wish to worship Apophis I won't agree with it, I may let you know once or twice that I don't agree with it, but in the end I know it won't amount to much and is, inevitably, harmless. If it makes you happy so be it, I am not going to take that away from you. After all there will never be enough people worshipping Apophis to suddenly fast track Entropy. That's just the end of it. I really don't think that's possible and if it is well... that's something we cannot stop. So if you worship Apophis, you do you, I disagree on a moral level, but that's all I will say about it. So I won't bother myself much with people who do worship Him and try to convert anyone or steal away what makes these people happy.

Now if you aren't worshipping Apophis but are working with Him, that's a different story. I keep mentioning every deity has their place, and Apophis is no different. You can request Apophis' strength without giving Him power. This is something you can do. Apophis does not care about humans, but He does not hate them either. He is neutral and most likely bored as all hell, and thus is willing to help humans for just a bit of something to do. People who work with Apophis for spell work do so when they need a god that isn't afraid to break the Laws of Ma'at. But then you have to ask yourself is it worth it?

When you enlist a deity to break the Laws of Ma'at, you are, by proxy, breaking the Laws of Ma'at, and that's not going to look good during the Weighing of the Heart Ceremony. Why would you want to do that when Lord Seth is a viable substitute? There's really no reason to want that much chaos, enough to violate the Laws of Ma'at, but some people view their own innocence as a fair trade for complete and utter destruction of something. Sometimes one's hate is enough to provide comfort.

With all that being said don't do harm onto others, regardless of who they worship, but if you're thinking of worshipping Apophis, this is the reason why practitioners don't like it. It's not because we hate Apophis, it's because we want to live an orderly life as long as possible. Our fate is not yours to decide, so please, let's keep it that way.

#ramessesrambles #rant #apophis #kemet #kemeticism #kemetic paganism #kemetism #egyptian gods #apep

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guzsdaily · 5 months

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12.023's 4th Quarter Theme

Day 22 - Nov 27th, 12.023

Today will be a somewhat different post, a type of post that I plan to do each quarter/season of the year. Something which I adopted this year is the idea of yearly themes instead of yearly goals, and I have to admit it is a lot better to know you improve regardless of whatever you met a number or touchable objective in one year.

But before, what are "Themes"?

Your Theme

Before everything, this concept is not mine, it was something which I adopted from this CGP Grey video:

youtube

In summary, a theme is a word that reflects something you want to improve and/or resonate with you on a period of time. This word is what will guide you on the year, instead of a final objective.

"Why?" because of how year's resolutions always fail. It is really hard to be able to continue with a resolution for an entire year, shits happens, and numbers becomes difficult to achieve. If you want to improve your health losing weight, you probably will end up failing the resolution by some kilograms, if you want to read more books and place a clear goal of reading 100 books that year, you will feel bad about yourself for "just" reading 60.

Themes solve this problem by being abstract. It is not important how many kilograms you lost, if your theme is "year of health" and you were able to lose some amount, it stills "year of health", or maybe you didn't lose any, but created a lot more muscles, it's still "year of health". Maybe it is "year of reading", but you noticed that full-fledged books aren't your type, and you prefer articles and newsletters, it's still "year of reading". The word that you choose is not a clear objective or goal, but a concept to help you guide your daily decisions, to make you instead of scrolling social media while waiting a queue, end up reading a web-book if it is "year of reading".

It is a word that resonates with something you want to improve your life in general.

My 12.023's Theme

I adopted this concept on the start of this year, just to test if it really helped my life. On the end of the previous year I was leaving school, and now, being legally an adult, I need to find what to do with my life and what I actually want to work with. I always jumped between interests and if I wanted to go somewhere I needed to try things and focus on one of them, I needed to concretize what I wanted with my life and myself.

So that was the theme, "concretize", or more specific "concretizar" in Portuguese. I didn't really care if the word has an actual meaning different, for me, it was "placing things into stone", "focusing on one thing", "hardening what I want to do", it resonated with what I wanted to improve. I still had plans, objectives, I hopped to make some money this year at least, I wanted to try being my own boss before trying to find a formal job.

And did I make any money? No. Did I complete the plans of multiple projects that I had? No, unfortunately. But now I know what I want to do in the next years of my life, I want to develop good software and development tools, independent if it is in a formal job or in my own brands, I want to create good code and products. For pretty much the entire year, I never touched things like video editing, drawing, modeling, etc., which to be clear, I still want to do, but they are hobbies, not my job anymore.

The theme was successful for me, it guided me the entire year to be where I am now. But now it is time for another.

Today's theme

This is something which in CGP Gray's video is mentioned, so I also want to try now this and next year. Themes will not be for the year, but the season/quarter of the year, because it is a lot easier to feel time passing when you can easily tell just by the climate.

But because the year is ending, I pretty much have just 1 month of this new theme, which can be good for a reason, because I'm lacking something these past days and it is something which I can improve in one month easily:

"Productivity"

What is "productivity" (or "produtividade" in Portuguese) for me? Well, it represents for me the ability of opening every day my daily notes, every week my weekly notes, organizing my tasks, annotating my projects, and automating and streamlining my life in some way or another. I already made and configure the tools for this theme for the most part, but there are still some things to improve, and I still need to test and put this workflow in my routine totally. This end of the year I don't plan to focus totally on making templates, but actually using them, and using them on the projects I want to make, and tweaking them when I need to. Not just templates, but my entire OS, keystrokes, etc.

I want to be more productive and find what works better for me. And every day being more productive, is better than a day just procrastinating.

Today's artists & creative things

Song: Temporary Love - by The Living Tombstone (feat. CG5) I really love the original songs from The Living Tombstone, it just proves how they aren't just a "meme music maker" or something like that. And this collaboration with CG5 just makes this feeling even stronger. I don't know why, but CG5's just fits perfectly with TLT style in this song. I just wanted to be song to be longer, to be honest.

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International (CC BY-SA 4.0) License

#daily journal #your theme

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vakta · 2 years

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some vent with slight weight mention (no numbers tho just some talking abt weight)

so. i'm going to see my psychiatrist today. i didn't manage to reach the goal weight she had set for me, which is required to be allowed to recover by myself and not be sent into hospital. so yeah, i'm probably going to hospital :/

i can already hear her pointing at the diagram of my weight and asking stuff like "why did this go back to lower after it had increased? why didn't it keep increasing? why?? why???" and like ma'am pardon but i do not know. i have no idea. weight fluctuates, i don't have 100% control over it, you cannot just do that. so like maybe don't ask questions like this pls bc i literally cannot answer them.

however this time i'm going to be cooperative and won't protest if she tells me to go to hospital. my digestion has got to a point thankfully where i think i can manage this even if they force food down my throat. like obvs it won't be pleasant and it will still probably be painful, but it won't be at that level of misery where it would have been before.

the thing is, i really am trying. i'm trying my best, but my psychiatrist doesn't seem to believe me (neither does my dad). and i'm tired. i'm tired of being told that i'm not doing enough, that i'm not trying hard enough, or that in fact i'm not even trying at all and my whole being is entirely defined and controlled by anorexia. but at the hospital i won't be the one making decisions anymore. which means i won't be the one to be judged based on the outcomes either. and that will be really nice. i hate being judged. i hate not being enough. this way i won't need to worry about this.

all in all, i'm not terrified of the thought of the hospital anymore, in fact now i feel like that would be the better option actually, because again, i am so fucking tired of this.

sooo yup, my appointment at the psychiatrist today is 5 pm - 6 pm, so a bit more than an hour until then. i'm gonna update y'all.

#vakta recovering & trying my best #vakta long posts

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jorgensenlee49 · 2 months

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esgaril · 6 months

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I'm going to preface this with the statement that no attack or disrespect to any cast members will be tolerated. if you can't discuss this topic without personal attacks, do me a favor and block me first to save me the trouble.

so.

there's been a lot of discussion about Ashton's choices in episode 77, but there are a few important things that I haven't seen mentioned much, so here we go:

everybody was ignoring warning signs and has responsibility for how things turned out. I mean it. everybody in the party. I think at this point it's been talked to death how Ashton missed the warnings, so let's talk about the rest of the party: when the ultimate risktaker in your party who gave some of her life force to an undead pirate captain cos why not or taken a pact with a champion of the Father of Lies cos he was hot, when that person is quiet and hesitant about taking a risk that is a very glaring sign that something is not right. it seemed like none of the party outside Ashton and Fearne treated this as the life-changing descision it really is and they persistently ignored Fearne's hesitancy, trying to peer pressure her into taking the shard. not even Orym checked in on her to see if she's sure about taking it which she very much wasn't. which leads to my next point:

absorbing the shard changes your body permanently. we know this because that's exactly what happened to Ashton, that is the reason they are earth genasi instead of half elf. hopefully the harness method would have been more gentle to Fearne than leveling a whole village, but the end result most likely would be the same: a fusion between a primordial titan shard and a living being. most likely Fearne would have lost her body as she knows it from birth and turned into who knows what. probably a fire genasi mixed with faun, but nobody knows the exact anticipated result, because it haven't been done before. the closest we got is Ashton's transformation, but it was with a different fusing method, a different type of titan shard and a different species as the recipient. so the only thing we know is the one other time it was done it changed the person radically and permanently. this is not a decision that should be taken lightly. which leads to my final point:

I didn't think it was possible, but it seems the signs for why Ashton shouldn't do this weren't clear for everyone, so I'll explain how I interpreted them. as I said above the very concept of it should have been treated with more weight. Chetney absorbing the spoon was not a big deal because the power balance between the absorbed thing and the person leans very much in favor of the person, the magic spoon didn't have nearly enough power to make any big changes to the person. as I see it with the titan shard it's very much the opposite: the shard is more powerful than the person taking it. it's unclear how much powerful, but to me it seems quite a lot as it kept a lava lake going and created life for centuries. in this case the absorbed thing can and will overpower the person and make permanent changes to them. that was kind of the point in taking it. so that is a huge blaring warning sign to start with. I've seen people saying that there were a lot of maybes and possiblys in the verbal warnings Ashton got and this is true. the way I interpreted that was that it reminded me of when I'm asked in my work if something we haven't done before is possible: I give the same caveats. so that's how I read Allura's warning as well when she said it was possible it can be done, but much more likely that it'd kill Ashton. nobody knows for sure. this is a very much unprecedented thing. not just Ashton taking a second shard, but them taking the first one was as well. there are no studies or documented experiments about this to base any guess on. Ashton is the only example we know of. no real expert, especially someone like Allura who's seen some wild shit in her life, will declare anything for 100% sure in a topic that is this uncertain. you have to watch out for those who do say that, those are the liars. so her saying "possibly" was not encouragement, it's an admission of the lack of knowledge on the topic. there is a big difference. but I can see how it got misinterpreted by Ashton and parts of the fandom.

sorry it got so long, just wanted to bring up some things to consider that seemed to be overlooked in the discussion. anyway, I can't wait to find out what happens next.. is it thursday yet?

#critical role #c3 #spoilers

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hey-its-isaac · 8 months

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regarding september 3rd, being 15, and heartbreak

this account was originally made because i wanted to write poetry

i just ended up repurposing it, which is why i had already had one at the time. made it in january 2018, hey its isaac

prior to now, that would've been the lowest point of my life. i never talked about this much, but i hated myself. looking back, what i did was the right and mature thing. i didnt go into a relationship i wasn't ready for. i didn't talk about how i felt though, because i wasn't the one that was hurt. not in my mind, anyway. i became quite the bad person from that self-hatred. but is any 15 year old good?

i didn't see it as a mature decision as i do now however. back then i thought i was a monster. i fell into a horrible depression. i starved myself because that's what i thought a depressed person should do. i ended up below 100 pounds. i don't think i ever said this, but that's what i wanted.

i wanted people to notice, but i panicked when they did. i had an eating disorder, i don't know if i mentioned that ever. it was self-inflicted, but i had it nonetheless. i would pull up bmi calculators often, hoping it would show i was anorexic. i was obsessed, i thank god there wasn't a scale in the house. it took years to correct it, one of which i spent in the same white zip-up hoodie everyday. threw it out, don't like to look at it much now.

even now its kind of hard to resist that urge - especially now when i hate how gaining weight looks on me. one thing ive got going for me, and i'm not too humble to acknowledge, is i do have significant pretty privilege. and well - i wear the tired rotting look well, and i know people find me attractive. a little egotistical i guess, but i see the reactions i get. i know im treated differently.

people like me. people liked me in high school. liberal moderately/ironically funny skinny guy, people like that i guess. countless people i was either too dumb to see liked me - or i just didn't want to see at the time. i was a good kid, loyal to a friend, or perhaps my own anxiety.

it's unfortunate for them they like me, i suppose.

i digress, that period of depression extended out.. into forever, maybe. maybe a brief period of feeling better in late 2019 (coincidentally when i gained some confidence and alone time), before it all got bad again. then steady downhill climb, steep dropoff, and wherever we are now

holding a person's life in your hands does something to you. being the reason someone is still breathing the next morning is a lot of pressure. that certainly didn't help me back then.

somebody had to do it, however. and i suppose i'd prefer that she be alive today, even with the effects it has had on me to this day. i don't wish death on anybody, and would give myself up for others.

unfortunately for me.

people gravitate to me. people tell me their deepest secrets and traumas. i don't know why. im kind. i listen. i suppose i feel safe to people. in the time i've spent drifting since march, people have grown close to me. people have gotten hurt for this, out of my own mistakes, my distance, me as a person, but i'd like to think i've provided more good than bad. i do try

i don't know what it is about me that makes me different. but i know that i am. that's something me and her shared, our effect on people. i'm not surprised we were so horrible together. picture two positive magnets. a powerful attractive force, but we repel when together. well, scratch that, probably a powerful negative force.

i've never ever felt like i was where i was supposed to be in life. i know where i need to go though. and i'll get there one day. i mean, i've got time. and there's time for the YA romance to come through for me still. wouldn't mind dating a cute boy sometime. scrolling back in this tumblr, who would've guessed i was bi lol.

i still do like poetry, but i'm no good at writing it. but i do like to be symbolic and mysterious , as this seems to show

for such a privileged and well off person, i've managed to make every wrong decision possible. i've made what could have been the easiest life in the world a hellscape. and i only seem to be making it worse. there's a path to make it better, and im following it. surely things can't always be like this, i don't want to be another tragedy.

well, i just felt like this account, which once meant a lot to me, deserved a proper sendoff.

so, there it is.

see you in oregon,

isaac jae

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sunrisedriven · 10 months

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6/21

Yeah, I definitely did not study for that test.

I reached a full circle, though. I don't know how to explain it, but it feels surreal. Closure. Letting go of what I lost, what I missed out on. It may have taken eight years, but I still got what I wanted. The door is wide open. There's so much more now. I didn't have to stop dreaming. I've got a lot more going for me.

It's all within reach. New York called my name and I turned her down. I'm still getting that high rise, though. It's just a matter of time. I'm no longer heartbroken over what-ifs. It's possible.

Principles. It's not like it will keep me full and happy and content throughout the night, but I'm glad I chose it over five-minute recognitions. I can go further. Coast to coast, I'm going to make my mark on both.

I persisted. This quarter was awful. I came up with all sorts of conclusions that broke my heart and never have I ever felt so disappointed by people. I wanted to give up, but it would've been so lame to repeat the same mistakes. I just - there has to be a way for me to show how ridiculous ya'll be acting sometimes. Embarrassing. Some of these people need to know how embarrassing they are. It's for their good. It's that part of my job description? No, but it's torture watching it all unfold and having to stop myself from laughing at the nonsense. Like, am I supposed to feel bad for you? Are you serious?

I dug a grave for all the mistakes I made and planted flowers around it. Paid my respects. It's time to move on.

No straight A's, unfortunately. There's a B- in there, but I'll live. I still passed. I finished it. I'm proud of it. It was a tough quarter.

This was time well spent. I wouldn't have had it any other way. I still missed graduation. It's just not meant to be, I guess, but I'm really glad I stuck it through. I might not reap the rewards sometime soon, but I will someday. I have something planted for the next season.

I'm sorry for being abrupt. I'm running on 4 hours of sleep....for the past three days, yessir, yes ma'am, I only had four hours of good sleep. LOL. Maybe that's why I sound silly right now.

But yeah, full circle. I have grown so much the past two years. I'm proud of my decision. I'm glad I came back.

One thing that's on my mind is that once I go back to the city, I will probably run into one of them. That's something I have to deal with, but I'll cross that bridge when I get there. All the engagements I'm seeing on insta is bugging me. I mean, I'm happy for them, 100%, but I'm slowly realizing that I'm in that phase of my life and I hate to say it, but I don't see myself getting married in this lifetime. God forbid.

bleh.

Time to lose weight.

#blog #Spotify

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luvinlifeau · 2 years

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source : https://luvinlifehealth.blogspot.com/2022/09/first-there-was-yoga-then-there-was-pvc.html

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burtalvarez5 · 2 years

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slugtranslation-hypmic · 3 years

Note

Hihihi this is may be a weird question but is your opinion on the main hypmic cast?

In brief:

(Spoiler alert: It was not brief. Stuck under a cut for length)

Ichirou: He's a good kid. I wasn’t super into him at first, as main protagonists very rarely hold my interest, but I appreciate him now for the struggles he goes through and the growth he’s experienced across the series.

Jirou: Jirou is also a good kid in his own way. I didn’t know what to do with him for a while, but now I feel like I understand him too. I don’t think he quite gets what makes Ichirou be as loved as he is, nor does he really understand what makes people love him for who he is. But that’s okay. He’ll get it someday.

Saburou: If you had tasked me as a fourteen year old to create an idealized anime boy sona, I would have come up with someone shockingly similar to Saburou. I’m fond of him. He can be a bit mean at times in a very fourteen way, but deep down, he’s a good kid too. All the BBs are good kids.

Samatoki: I just can’t not make fun of him. His posturing is so ridiculous to me that I am constantly filled with the urge to clown on him. Oh, you think you’re so tough? You think you’re a big tough guy? Well, I’m just a little bastard; what are you going to do about it? But underneath the posturing, I do feel sorry for him and admire his strengths a lot. He’s a good kid too under a very funny exterior.

Juuto: I’m enjoying learning more about him from the BB/MTC+ manga, but I’m a bit surprised at how much of a dick he is even deep down. Still, he has plenty of good qualities too, and I like him in a vague sort of way. I’d throw fruit at him over a fence but wouldn’t put any malice in it.

Riou: What a delightful individual he is. The BB/MTC chapter about him really resonated with me. For a character so outwardly obsessed with the military, Riou has an incredible understanding of the weight of his actions and such a deep appreciation for every living thing. There’s a lot of his depth to his simplicity, and the level of care he exhibits towards everyone is delightful to witness. An absolute favorite among the cast.

Ramuda: Self-recognition through the other (derogatory). In all seriousness, Ramuda’s story arc and actions are great narrative tools for me to examine some things about myself and grow to try to be a better, more considerate person towards myself and others. I want to see him achieve freedom and happiness.

Gentarou: I enjoy Gentarou quite a bit, although I think he gets overshadowed by the other members of Fling Posse at times due to my sheer passion for Dice and Ramuda. He’s my favorite character to translate at the moment, which is apparently heresy among Hypmic translators. More than the sheer fun of writing his witty banter, I find him to be a very intriguing individual, and I’m excited to learn more about him. I want his happiness too.

Dice: Oh, Dice... He’s a really good kid in a way that the BBs could never be. He’s deceptively good, and he does choose to hurt other people and himself in ways that characters like Ichirou don’t. But he also finds the goodness in the oddest places, like a person finding a coin in a cracked sidewalk, and that’s delightful. His narrative is one of the most compelling for me. What a champion of a character.

Jakurai: Wow, what a good foil for Ramuda. Let me bounce narratives off of you like a mirror. I’m slowly learning to find him compelling in his own right, however. This is also a self-recognition through the other (derogatory) scenario, but there’s more of an emphasis on the derogatory part.

Hifumi: A funny little individual bearing a lot of sadness and a whole lot more courage. Like most of Matenrou, I admire him a lot, but I think that Matenrou resonates much more strongly with other people than they do for me, so I prefer to sit back and let other people appreciate them. I think he’s very brave and very fun to read/write.

Doppo: The biggest fucking mood in existence. When you move past the stereotypical aspects, you end up with another character who has a lot of deep flaws but also an incredible amount of courage. I’m excited to see where they go with him, but again, I’ll sit back and let others take the first row here.

Kuukou: Having already drafted Saburou, if you came back to me at age eighteen and asked me to make an idealized anime boy sona, you would probably have ended up with a character astonishingly like Kuukou. He brings me sheer joy. Astonishingly, I feel like Kuukou has exhibited the least growth out of any of the cast, and yet I do not mind a bit. He is the closest to the perfect man I have ever met. I would drop everything to be this dude’s homie if he existed in real life. Just a champion individual.

Juushi: Juushi’s a good kid. I’m very fond of him and like writing him, but much like Matenrou, I feel like he does a lot more for other people than he does for me. Therefore, much of how I work with him is less, “How do I enjoy this character as a reader?” and more “How do I nurture the traits about him that other people love?”

Hitoya: Hitoya strikes me as a damn good person with a lot of heart who sometimes lets his anger drive him a bit too much. He’s also utterly ridiculous, of course, but I try to write him with as much strength as possible to be present behind his words. He honestly seems like a great person to know in real life, not simply as a fictional character, as well.

Sasara: I have to clown on him to assert dominance. Joking aside, I admire the depths of his character and the growth he’s shown over the series. He can be pretty callous at times and goes to odd lengths to get what he wants, but I think he’s now starting to realize how much his actions affect other people. For a while I was really in his camp as a hardcore Sasara lover (back before he was a main cast member - I love writing quirky minor characters), but now I approach him with the idea mentioned above, ie how I can present him for other people.

Roshou: Whenever he’s around the rest of Dotsu Hon, I think he’s kind of an idiot. I mean that in the best way possible. It’s very endearing. Yet moments when he’s on his own are where I think he best shines, and I would love to see more solo material for him. He’s an incredibly good support character, and I admire his passion for his students.

Rei: I really enjoy asshole antagonists, which is why I liked Ramuda for a while before the clone story came up behind me and struck me into the ground with its mighty fists. Now Rei fills this role. I would love to learn more about him and team up with the Buster Bros to pelt him with rotten eggs in a fun bonding activity. I’m sure there is some strong backstory that will absolve him of at least some of his shittiness, but until now, I’m still not excusing his whole abandoning his children thing, not to mention the human trafficking thing he pulled with Ramuda.

Otome: I hate translating her, if only because she and Rei frequently talk about things in extremely vague terms that I have no context for. It’s hard to make her sound idiomatic in English while also not shooting myself in the foot by accidentally filling in the wrong information. But with that aside, she’s okay. I like her, I guess. Her motivations are pretty interesting.

Ichijiku: Ichijiku was written for people who are sexually attracted to women, and I’m not at all, so I 100% approach her in terms of her pull on other people. She’s fun on her own, though, and I’m impressed at her ability to walk in high heels. Her complete disrespect for everyone but Otome brings me no end of entertainment in reading and writing.

Nemu: YOU. Maybe this is some stupid toxic masculinity thing, but I always feel embarrassed speaking affectionately about male characters but not at all about female characters. Therefore Nemu gets all of my loveposting. She’s a wonderful girl! She has such a strong spirit, and I’m completely overjoyed that she’s making her own decisions and becoming her own character defined on her own terms. I want to watch her grow up big and strong. Fuck yes, baby girl! Fuck it up! I’m very proud of her.

#not a translation #asks #hypmic asks

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pastelwitchling · 3 years

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Michael asks Alex out.

Watching Alex stand beside his car, Michael thought of two things. The first was that Alex looked unbearably good in dark clothes and a beanie. The second was that he wanted to kick himself for allowing this in the first place.

Granted, he didn’t think Alex would’ve actually heeded anything he’d said, but he liked thinking his concern held real weight in the airman’s decisions. For a moment there, when Alex had told him about Deep Sky and that some stranger had asked for a meeting out here, Michael felt like Alex had been eager for his opinion. He told Alex he had to be there with him, damn the solo rules, and Alex had looked almost relieved.

So here Michael was, parking alongside Alex’s car, and stepping out just as Alex checked his watch and exhaled shakily. Out here the stars were bright, but none of them shined as brightly as Alex did, even in his black leather jacket. Michael pinched the bridge of his nose. He was too sober for this.

“Hey,” he sidled up next to Alex, leaning against the hood of his car.

“Hi,” Alex looked around.

“What time did the guy say to come out here again?”

“Ten.” He checked his watch again. “Five minutes. I get the feeling these people are punctual.”

“Alex,” Michael reached out to touch his shoulder, and Alex’s muscles instantly turned pliant beneath his touch. He sighed more steadily, and Michael tried very hard not to let his thoughts wander to the way Alex’s body just did whatever he wanted it to, the way his single sigh made his heart go crazy.

“I know,” Alex said, and sat down next to Michael. “I know.”

They sat in silence for a whole minute, then, “Any word from Forrest?”

“No,” Alex said without missing a beat, like he’d been both expecting and dreading the question.

Michael probably should’ve left it at that, but curiosity and jealousy mixed in a stubborn, strong brew and took over. “Will he be back soon?”

“Doubt it,” he said, then, “I actually really don’t want to talk about it, Guerin.”

“Hm.” Michael licked his lips. “So I guess you really miss him then, huh?”

“Oh my god.”

“What? Does it bother you that much if someone says the guy’s name?”

“Guerin.” Alex’s tone was not angry or even frustrated. He was pleading. The mere mention of Forrest hurt him. Had he really meant that much to him?

“I’m sorry,” Michael murmured. When Alex said nothing for another two minutes, Michael tried again. “Alex, I’m sorry, okay? I just . . . I’m not like you, I’m not the . . . superhero tough guy who can take anything.” He kicked a pebble across the desert ground until it disappeared beyond the car’s lights and into the darkness. “I hated seeing you with him, and I got a little pushy.” He repeated, “I’m sorry, Private.”

Alex said nothing. He wouldn’t even look at Michael, his eyes on the ground, his brows furrowed. Michael didn’t think he would speak to him again for the rest of the night. Then –

“You’re right,” Alex said, his voice hoarse like the words had been a long-kept secret that he was finally pushing out. “You’re not like me.”

Michael swallowed, guilt and embarrassment filling his chest and making it harder to breathe. Then Alex looked at him, and all pain faded away. His expression was soft, his eyes glassy.

“You know what I did after they pinned that Purple Heart to my chest?” he scoffed, like it was silly now. “I burst into tears. The whole reason I left was to be stronger, so no one could ever scare me again. So I never had to see anybody I loved –” he cut off, and looked away from Michael, his cheeks tinted pink.

Alex sighed. “And then they gave me that medal, which was the highest commendation you could get, and I realized” – he huffed a miserable chuckle – “that I felt more broken than ever.” He raised a brow. “Some superhero tough guy, huh?”

“Alex . . .” Michael tried to argue, but he didn’t know what to say. Sometimes, moments like these, Michael felt like he and Alex really were from completely different worlds. The Alex that had gone on to war, that had survived it, had been alone.

“You’re nothing like me, Guerin,” Alex said again. “You’re so much better. I’m not the hero you want to believe I am just so you can keep hating yourself and – and undermining what you mean to me, I’m sick of it. If you haven’t realized by now that no one could ever be you for me, then I don’t know what else to do.”

Alex huffed, and roughly wiped away a tear. “So knock it off with the stupid jealousy, and just ask me out already!”

He turned back to staring at the darkness, his hands in his jacket pockets, very still save for a sniffle here and there that made Michael’s heart ache.

Michael also looked back to the darkness, glancing at Alex.

“Maybe I don’t want to ask you out because I know what you’ll say,” he quietly confessed, his heart hammering. “Maybe I didn’t want to believe it would be that easy because it would mean I wasted all this time.”

Alex sniffled again and bumped their shoulders together. “You didn’t waste it alone.”

Michael could think of nothing to say to this. After a moment, he cleared his throat and asked, “Will you go out with me?”

Alex glanced at him and away again. “Yes.”

Michael nodded as his brain processed the response. He was starting to smile, unable to help himself, when a pair of headlights shined in the night.

“Later?” Alex said grimly, his eyes on the dark figure behind the windshield.

Michael nodded once and straightened with him, his body thrumming with power, ready to protect. “Later.”

Am I posting too many of these? Is that why the notes never reach 100 anymore? 😂 I say this as a joke, but also kind of serious. I keep worrying that I’m flooding my dashboard with too many fics so by the time someone might get to reading one, another has already taken its place. Y’all just let me know if you’d like me to post less often so you can catch up 🤣🌝

#alex manes #michael guerin #malex #malex fic #malex fanfic #malex fanfiction #roswell new mexico #roswell nm #malex angst #malex fluff #tyler blackburn #michael vlamis

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