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overnowsfcb · 6 months

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halfway out the door; fermín lópez

summary: fighting to keep a little flame alive underwater, you couldn't lose the only stable thing in your life

warnings: ANGST!!! (no good ending) mature language, mental health issues (panic attack, anxiety, emotional distress), relationship struggles, unhealthy dinamics, brief mention of smut themes. if any of these topics makes you uncomfortable, i advise against reading this story.

word count: 3,3k

note: hiii! it's me again, this time posting for my sweet boy (who is not as sweet in this story) fermín. im planning to do something with all the 1989 vault tracks x barça players. so take it as the first from the series!! also, apologies if the angst hits hard, promise to post fluff next time (its a bit of challenge for me haha) super excited about this and would love to hear your thoughts or suggestions! – venus 🫂💐🫧 p.s.: im so proud of this one tbh

He didn’t seem to have enough time for you anymore. You didn’t want to see the subtle twist, but you knew him all too well and an imperceptible change for everyone was an imposing earthquake in your world.

It was in the hours that your messages would be waiting for a response and the way he wasn’t starved to taste your lips anymore. Once, he’d find an excuse to be with you, even if only for brief minutes. He’d dash to your apartment bearing your favorite chocolate with the pretext of keeping you fed. A smile brightening and your stomach still produced the same fluttering butterflies, as the first time he kissed you underneath the moonlight at fourteen.

Back then, everything was perfect, the chill air in your faces as you ran with sand getting between your toes, you could still feel his timid hands and tender touch on your waist as you both shared a breathtaking kiss.

Your mother's words echoed - relationships don't last forever. You'd always dismissed her musings, attributing them to the bitterness stemming from your father's departure. But now, that thought held a glimmer of truth.

He was your soulmate, your solid backbone, he would hold the candles for you even if his arm grew weary, drawing strength from unimaginable places. Unseen pictures would fill his phone, capturing your candid moments, proudly setting you as his lock screen. One cherished memory stood out: a photo of you, pajama-clad, returning from a late-night ice cream run, a victorious smile on your face. You had lost a bet that day, darting to the store at 1 AM, just a street away from your building.

However, now everything appeared to be falling apart; the last picture in his gallery folder, titled 'I love, mine, mine, mine,' dated back to July, and it was already November. It contrasted the warmth of July with the chilling absence of recent affection.

Yearning for something to blame, tears seemed futile as memories replayed relentlessly, etched deep within your heart. Each sob felt like a painful reminder of the emptiness in the cold, desolate bed without him by your side. Staring at it blankly, your mind echoed the silent void, your chest tightening with every expelled breath.

Sleeping alone always felt unbearable. You reached for your phone, gazing at the lock screen displaying a snapshot of both of you in a summer pool. His outings with friends never bothered you; you accepted that he was now part of Barcelona's first team, and you weren't his priority. However, deep down, a simple goodnight message like "Sweet dreams, Pip, I love you" was all you silently longed for. Was it too much to ask from someone who claimed to love you?

The absence weighed heavily as you saw the clock strike 4 AM. This hour always induced a sense of dread, a time too late to sleep, opening the gates to wandering thoughts about life's choices. Moving to Barcelona for him might have been a hasty decision.

In Sevilla, there wasn't much to lose. Your little town overwhelmed you, especially under the weight of your living nightmare, your mother and her pursuit of perfection. That was until she married your toddler brother’s father, her focus shifted almost forgetting about your existence.

He was your escape from that suffocating environment. Initially, it felt liberating, but gradually, it became confining again. The cage expanded as you became his pillar while his name was in everyone’s mouth, especially girls who found him attractive. The weight of being his support, witnessing the attention he received, caused an internal storm. But he wouldn’t change you, right? Yet, the conflict brewed within, the tug-of-war between being the support he needed and holding onto your own identity.

You grew tired of waiting for him, tossing and turning in bed for ten minutes, before finally succumbing to sleep, cocooned in blankets to ward off the cold.

Abruptly opening your eyes, hours later, your body spasmed and your heart raced, reflecting the recent struggles with sleep these days. Observing to your side, relief washed over you; he lay there peacefully, an arm draped over your waist.

Tears welled in your eyes, a sense of loss filling your chest. Deeply in love, you realized your first waking thought was about him, albeit taking a negative turn.

What if I lose him? What if I lost the lighthouse in the middle of the sea? The uncertainty of the waters and the potential fall weighed heavily.

You wanted to get back to those times when you smiled as you landed your eyes, his body next to you, where blonde strands of messy hair framed his face and you delicately organized them while you talked and kissed every morning, staying in bed like an old married couple, feeling each other's warmth, laughter used to fill the air as he playfully booped your nose.

The weight of invisible hands squeezed your chest, making each breath a desperate gasp for air.

You didn't want to feel this anxiety; your breath became erratic. Rushing to the terrace, you breathed as if your mind forewarned a trailer of what has to be.

Struggling to regain control, your hands tightened on the cold railing, a reminder of the grounding reality you struggled to grasp.

Peering down, the height induced paralysis, intensifying your vertigo. "y/n, estás bien?" (are you okay?) His concerned voice, muffled and distant, struggled to penetrate the thick fog of panic, fear rooted you in place, afraid the floor would fall through if you made a step.

"Amor, háblame." (darling, talk to me) He approached, unsure. This panic attack was the first in years. His hand on your shoulder offered reassurance like an anchor, and you emerged from the state, meeting his gaze with your tear-stained eyes; he was still your gentleman. He was still yours.

And you needed to repeat it to stave off madness.

"Abrázame," (hug me) you whispered in a fragile plea. His arms enveloped you, he was the refuge that you needed; his familiar scent eased your breathing.

His head on yours, he sought to share his heartbeat, attempting to quell the sudden anxiety and the questions that haunted your mind. His furrowed brows hinted at his confusion, but conversation could wait. For now, it was about you. The one who never failed him; he couldn't fail you now.

When your body distended completely, he gently guided you back to bed. You clung to him, as if he could run away at any moment.

You walked to your side of the bed and he tucked you in like no one ever did before, leaving a sweet kiss on your forehead, an attempt to dissipate the negativity.

“What time is it?” you inquired, looking up at him.

“Six a.m., sleep. ok?” He stroked your head, and your eyes closed under the weight of fatigue. “I love you so much.”

Days passed after the incident. He chose not to ask more about the reason behind your anxiety, he decided to act as if everything was fine.

This didn't imply he lacked concern for you, but it certainly felt that way. His demeanor towards you was still unchanged.

Feelings unaddressed hung in the air, manifesting in the cold kisses and the superficial small talk that never deepened. But, in front of everyone, you maintained the façade, accepting compliments from everyone about your seemingly perfect relationship. Only if they knew the underlying truth…

Yet, you personally sensed his gradual withdrawal, a palpable feeling of him slipping through your fingers. The strain became evident as you found yourself having to repeat things that were important to you at least three times, only for him to continually forget. Or the lackluster pecks he gave you, making you feel pathetic.

Although feeling unwanted, you weren't a resentful person, so you would religiously sit in the stands at every game and witness how he gained fan's hearts with outstanding performances on the pitch, earning the title of man of one of the champions league matches and you loved how the stadium echoed his name as he made an incredible goal.

You found joy in his happiness, doing his thing with the team of his dreams. In that moment, your mind transported into a different time – those moments when you stood by his side, offering comfort during his moments of self-doubt, back when he believed his dreams would forever be just that – dreams.

His satisfaction meant the world to you. Meeting him as he emerged from the dressing room, already showered, you couldn't help but admire how his wet hair framed his face.

A big smile adorned his face as he approached you. Opening your arms, your bodies collided as he effortlessly lifted you spinning around, creating a whirlwind of laughter that filled the air.

Once he gently set you down, you couldn't contain your pride. Cupping his cheeks, you locked eyes with him. The sense of accomplishment and joy was overwhelming. Your lips met his in a deep, meaningful kiss – one that hadn't been shared in weeks, but in that moment, it felt like the perfect reunion.

You believed this moment marked a fresh start, a much-needed rejuvenation to propel you forward. That optimistic outlook, however, disintegrated after he bid you farewell at your apartment, scrolling through TikTok on your couch, a video of his post-match interview caught your eye, and an involuntary smile crept onto your face.

His voice echoed through the video, captivating in its beauty. The interviewer's final question lingered in the air, "Who are you going to celebrate this with?" Anticipating a mention of teammates, family, and you, you were bewildered as the final words left his mouth – your name conspicuously absent.

And in that instant, the realization struck: he hadn't kept his promise to do a heart gesture to include you in his celebration either. But you decided to let it slide; perhaps it was the adrenaline coursing through his veins that caused him to forget, and you were willing to overlook it.

You turned on the TV to avoid your thoughts. He no longer watched movies with you, and lately, the time you spent together felt like his phone held more allure than anything you did to catch his attention.

Without even mentioning that he wasn't fucking you lately, offering excuses of exhaustion from training or unexpectedly halting any progress when things got heated and leaving your folds wet.

But still, your mouth stayed shut, justifying every action. What you didn't know is that only one drop was missing in the glass before it overflowed – the last straw.

And eventually, the bomb exploded in the least suitable scenario. You stood by his side, his arm around your waist, desperately wanting to take his hand out and shout your feelings in front of everyone.

You didn't want to be there; you longed to be at home with your fluffy cat, who offered more comfort than Fermín did in these past months.

He was so smooth about it, engrossed in the conversation with his friends, seemingly oblivious to your distress. You whispered in his ear that you needed to get home, you weren’t feeling at your best, the strobe lights blinding you, the music pulsating louder than your heartbeat. It felt like water was reaching your nose, and you feared you'd stop breathing any moment.

Yet, you stayed, like a naive girl striving to make everything perfect for her lovely gentleman. But was still that gentleman who put you above all else?

The voices and laughter from his friends overwhelmed you. While you genuinely liked them and had never encountered an issue before, this night seemed a challenge you couldn't survive.

Your gaze darted around, hoping for a savior amid the sea of faces. But there was no one.

The air seemed to get thinner, and your chest constricted, as if locked in a slowly tight embrace. The blue dress discomforting your skin, felt like an additional layer of confinement, fantasizing to shed not only the fabric but also the skin beneath.

It was as if transparent walls were materializing around you, and this was the moment to escape a place to which you didn't belong, feeling like a misplaced puzzle piece, you watched him again with pleading eyes, silently urging him to notice you.

“Fer, really, I need to go home.” You whispered, careful not to let his friends overhear. He scanned your gestures, it took him a few seconds to realize that something about you was off. You wish he had seen it earlier.

Everything he did was later than you needed it, when he did the things, you have already fixed yourself into the uncomfortable.

“Okay, let's go.” He nodded and he finally took out his hand off your waist, allowing a momentary exhale. Greetings were exchanged with his friends and you reciprocated, not wanting to show an impolite image.

Almost running, your feet propelled you outside of the disco, pushing people out of your way, without waiting for Fermín.

The doors swung shut behind you, plunging the abrupt silence upon your ears. Relief washed over you.

Closing your eyes, you took deep breaths. You needed to hold yourself like the grown woman you were and not cry. As the doors swung open and closed again, you turned to find Fermín, a frown etched across his face.

“Why didn't you wait for me?” his voice held a trace of anger, making you shiver. Realizing the street wasn't the place for such a conversation, you began walking towards the car, your feet aching from the high heels worn that night.

He hurried to catch up, the tension palpable. When the car alarm reached your ears, signaling it was unlocked, you opened the door and entered as quickly as you could.

Sitting there, attempting to adjust to sudden silence, you sensed his presence beside you.

Leaning back into the headrest, you brought your hands on your face.

He started talking again. “What's going on you?” you hesitated to face him, reluctant to confront those expressive brown eyes you memorized like the back of your hand.

As he insisted again to hear a response, anger got to your head. Without warning, you exploded, all the carefully restrained words meant to preserve your relationship pouring into a torrent.

“I'm just so damn exhausted! I feel like I'm invisible. I ache to be seen, to matter in your eyes again. I’ve been here, baring my soul, and it feels like you're a million miles away.” Your scream echoed, tears smudging your makeup. You saw the weight of his actions settling on him as his eyes reflected comprehension. A sob escaped your lips, he stood frozen. “I'm just asking you to hear me, to truly see me, and realize that I'm shattering inside because I've already fought too much alone for the person who I thought I would marry.”

He shook his head, a boy who had always the right words now seemed that they left their mind, leaving him defenseless. A hesitant pause filled the car.

Lips parted, but the sentences seemed to dissipate before finding form. It was as if they were navigating a maze of thoughts, searching for the right words to offer comfort or understanding, yet coming up empty-handed.

You got tired of waiting, you've been doing it for such a long time, you almost felt old. But if he just opened his mouth, you knew you would forgive him. “Let's go home.” You whispered, disappointed about a man who you were calling the love of your life.

He gripped the steering wheel and hit the road. Memories flooded back of the anecdotes shared in that white car, now slipping through your fingers like ash.

You pondered the absence of rain, almost expecting the heavens to open up. Wasn't it obligatory for the sky to weep when something magical began succumbing to rationalism?

When you arrived at the house, he finally was able to speak. “I'm so sorry for everything that I caused you.” He didn't know if physical contact would be well received from you. So he gripped even more the steering wheel, needing to make something with his hands, getting out the tension.

“What happened to us, Fer?” your heart-wrenching question hitting him. You were already talking in past tense.

There wasn't an exit for this situation, and he knew that. He wished he could build a time travel machine and make everything alright, fix the first mistake that led to this big snow ball that was making an avalanche. “I-I don't know.”

“I think I'm coming back to Sevilla.” you confessed, stepping out of the car. Your headache due to the tears that you've been letting out and your eyes were puffy.

As you stood outside the car, the quiet suburban street provided a bleak contrast to the storm raging within your emotions.

Fermín, still gripping the steering wheel, searched for words that could somehow mend the gashes that had formed between you two. The realization of the inevitable distance settled on him like a heavy cloak.

“I never meant for it to come to this,” he finally uttered, voice heavy with remorse. “I let things slip away, and I can't forgive myself for that.”

You, caught between the pain and the need for resolution, gazed at him with a mixture of sorrow and longing. The familiar surroundings of the neighborhood seemed to transform into a backdrop for the end of something significant. You already knew you were never coming back here.

In the distance, a streetlamp flickered, casting intermittent shadows on the pavement. You took a deep breath, the chill in the air stinging your lungs, and said, “Sometimes, we have to go back to move forward.”

His eyes, filled with regret, met yours. “Is there anything I can do to make things right?”

But the answer remained unsaid, it wouldn't be fair to give him instructions and keep rowing and carrying him while he was just there. Wounds were already too deep and your energy was drained.

You turned away, the distance between Sevilla and this quiet street growing smaller in comparison to the emotional gap that now separated you two.

The door creaked shut, marking the end of a chapter that perhaps, in the unfathomable depths of your heart you didn't want to admit that you anticipated it.

In the solitude of your apartment, surrounded by echoes of shared laughter and the ghost of a love that once flourished, you confronted the daunting task of rebuilding your world. The faint glow from the streetlamp outside cast a melancholic light on the remnants of what was.

Fermín, still parked, felt the shared years withering in the blink of an eye, something you had been discerning for a torturing amount of time. The engine hummed softly, an averse companion to the lingering regret in the air. As he drove away, the distance between your hearts seemed insurmountable.

You watched as Blaugrana, your Calico fluffy cat, approached you unawarely of everything surrounding her, you sat on the wooden floor with her purring next to you. The sparkle of her collar made you remember how your life was bound to be lived with Fermín forever, in that collar your initials were carved. You didn't want to fall back to this cruel reality.

You even commanded yourself to religion to save your relationship, months before. Night after night, you poured the essence of your yearning into prayers addressed to Aphrodite, beseeching her to weave the threads of love and passion back into your relationship, to restore its former glory. Each whispered plea carried the weight of your sincere desire, a desperate hope that the goddess of love might heed your call and guide your connection to the blissful days of yore.

But even that didn't work. And you realized the hug of what you thought would be a fresh start unraveled into the deceptive clarity of terminal lucidity. Now you would hear the eternal melancholic tone of the complete loss of vital signs. Forever.

#fermin lopez x reader #fermin lopez #fermin lopez angst #football angst #football x reader #gavi x reader #pedri x reader #fermin lopez imagine #fermin lopez x you #football imagine

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sensivs · 10 months

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“You promised you wouldn’t

leave me”

Sad hcs on how I think the hashira would take your death (SOB SOB WAHHHHHHHHH SOB SOB)

Cw// large amounts of mentions of blood and large wounds, HUGE INFINITY CASTLE SPOILERS AS WELL (for shinobu)

(Also reader is gn with a more amab lean)

(female readers are free to read this but you’ll most likely not like it due to the He/him use of pronouns/male use of nicknames)

K. Rengoku

- Never in a million years would rengoku thought he would be crying over your dead body. That thought just never crossed his mind and instead was covered up by his mass amount of love for you.

- You desperately tried protecting rengoku from akaza, but ended up becoming heavily injured. Surely you would just bounce back from this fight right? Right..?

- Rengoku watched in slow motion as akaza’s fist dug its way through your torso and through your backbone. Creating a huge crater in your stomach. Rengoku jumped onto his feet and immediately ran towards you, scrambling his way onto his feet.

- But before Rengoku could land a hit on the upper moon, he ran away. But that didn’t matter, what mattered was you and your health.

- Rengoku held you in his arms, rocking you in his large arms back and forth and sobbing, telling you that you were alright and that you would surely live through this.

- Tanjiro, inosuke, and zenitsu stood back in pure shock and sadness. They looked up to you as their own parental figure.. and now.. you were gone.

- Tanjiro sobbed as he sniffed the air of death, blood, and sadness, while zenitsu bursted out crying, not being able to hear your heart beating anymore. Inosuke fell to the ground and tried his hardest not to cry but the fat tears pushed their way through and rushed out his eyes like a waterfall.

- Rengoku couldn’t let go of you, even when people tried to pry him off of you, his strength was just unmatched. His grief pushed him into a depressive state. To the point where his bubbly personality turned into pure anger.

- His hatred for demons increased and his training hardened. He was going to avenge you if it was the last thing he’d do.

T. Uzui

- Tengen and you were desperate to find your wives, you’d do anything to get them back. You watched in utter horror as a slim creature emerged out of the original demon you were fighting.

- His extremely skinny body made him look weak but since the two demons were upper 6 you knew that his body was just something to throw you all off.

- you found yourself heaving in pain as the poison of gyutaro’s weapon burrowed itself deep in your bloodstream. You cried as you felt the burning sensation of the poison rushing through you as quickly as it possibly could.

- Gyutaro was able to slice your stomach going up to the middle of your chest. Blood gushed out of your large wound and spilled all over the ground.

- “Y/NN!!” You heard one of your wives very familiar and ear-piercing voice calling out your name, suma crashed onto her knees beside you and bursted out crying.

- “Y/N YOU’LL GET THROUGH THIS ALRIGHT? STICK WITH US PLEASE” suma screeched as she shook you harshly “SUMA SHUT UP HE’S ALREADY IN PAIN DUE TO THAT HUGE WOUND HE HAS HE DOESNT NEED TO BE IN MORE PAIN DUE TO YOUR CRYING ASS” makio screamed at suma who was holding you close to her chest.

- You smiled weakly, “suma.. makio.. where’s hinatsuru..?” “She’s alright, she’s just unconscious for the time being”, you hummed, happy to hear hina was alive.

- you coughed up blood that had been bubbling in your throat, suma screamed some more before being hit on top of the head by makio. “Suma.. my dearest wife..” you started off.

- “Although your the most sensitive of the bunch, you’re still my wife and I’ll never let that be unknown.. your voice brings such comfort to my soul and I’m happy your able to be apart of my life..” you placed a hand on top of suma’s. She almost bursted out in tears but decided she’d save them for later.

- You turned your gaze to makio, who was silently crying while looking at your heavily injured body, you placed your other hand on her cheek and gave her the warmest smile you could muster up, “makio, although you’re hotheaded like no other, that doesn’t change anything on how I look upon you, you are one of my precious wives and you’ll always be known as that.. I love you.. suma.. makio”

- Your body began to go limp as you felt your heart grow slower and slower, “although hinatsuru and tengen aren’t here.. please let them know I love them as well” suma nodded profusely as she then began to cry louder than anything in the entire world.

- She held you as close as she could while makio held you close to her too, her tears falling onto your haori. You slowly closed your eyes and embraced the light at the end of the tunnel…

- Tengen had found his wives surrounding his only husband, crying their eyeballs out. Tengens heart dropped as this could only mean one thing.. the love of his life.. had.. died..

- He fell onto his knees and slowly picked you up, the sight of your eyes being permanently shut made him burst out in tears as he held your dead body close to his..

- That’s when he finally bursted out in tears, he didn’t care about the condition he was in, all he could care about was you.

- After the entertainment district incident, Uzui was no longer his “life of the party” self. He was way more closed off, even to his wives.

M. Kanroji

- It had been at least a couple hours since tanjiro, nezuko, and genya had left. Leaving you and your girlfriend to fight zohakuten. His wooden dragons attacked you both from both sides.

- It almost seemed as this fight would never end, but you knew you two could handle the demon child.

- Just as you sliced one of the dragons, you felt a large presence behind you. You twisted your head quickly but then felt a burning sensation in the middle of your chest.

- You felt the life drain out of you through your chest. You looked down to see one of the wooden dragons head pierce through you.

- Blood gushed out of your wound and spilled onto the forest ground, creating a large pool below you. The dragon then retracted its head through the hole it made in your chest, letting you fall to your demise.

- You body fell with the sound of a harsh crack of your rib cage breaking into a thousand pieces, collectively digging themselves into your lungs.

- Your vision grew blurry.. and then.. nothing

- “Y/N!!” your girlfriend called out, but didn’t receive a response, she looked over to where you originally were when she last looked at you.

- Her heart dropped as her eyes then darted down to the floor. Your body laying uncomfortably on the hard dirt floor.

- Mitsuri’s world began to slow down, tears immediately rushed to the edge of her eyelids before spilling out with a large wail.

- Her attention then quickly drew back to zohakuten, her sword springing into action almost immediately, rage engulfed her to the very tip of her nails.

- “you.. I will never forgive you for what pain I feel right now!! I don’t care if you look like some 10 year old kid!! I’ll kill you no matter what!!” Mitsuri screamed at the demon, her face completely red with anger and tears dripping down both her cheeks.

- Her speed increased significantly, her adrenaline and anger fueling her. She couldn’t let this kid get away with killing her bf!!

- Mitsuri sobbed as her legs grew weak on her but she couldn’t give up now, she had to avenge you even if it led her to her own death as well.

- “I CANT DO THIS ANYMORE” mitsuri sobbed out, her sword whipping down on the wooden dragon that was chasing her. She looked up in horror as she saw a dragon dive down, gobbling her up.

- But a few seconds later, the dragon rammed into a tree and collapsed, fading away after it crashed. “I’m saved!” Mitsuri cheered but her happiness was quickly cut short as she remembered you.

- She ran over to your body, falling to her knees as she saw your poor body lay face down. Your chest heaved slowly and raggedy, you were literally hanging onto a thread.

- “Y/N!! STAY WITH ME OKAY? WE’LL GET YOU HELP!” Mitsuri yelled between sobs, she scooped you up into her arms and hoisted you up onto her thighs.

- You’re eyes glistened with tears, you weren’t ready to leave.. you weren’t ready to leave mitsuri.. with the small amount of strength you had, you took mitsuris hand into yours and kissed it. Giving her one last loving look before your eyes grew shut and your grip on her hand loosened.

- Mitsuri could not stop crying after your death, she hated every passing second that wasn’t spent with you.

S. Kochō

- You and shinobu ran through the halls of the infinity castle. The multitude of doors that were scattered all around you two giving you a tiny sense of fear knowing that at any moment they could open up and you could fall to your death or be in a presence of an upper moon.

- the two of you then found yourselves in a hallway, a door not too far away. You and shinobu shared a look before carefully walking towards the door.

- Shinobu took the honor of opening the door, cautiously sliding the door to the side. There, you two saw upper moon 2..

DOUMA

- There was no doubt that this was the demon who killed kanae.. his shiny, blonde hair gave his mysterious persona away.

- The upper moon turned around “Hm? Someone’s here?” His rainbow gaze fell on the top of you two, “whoa it’s a girl! And her sweet boyfriend~!”

- You and shinobu both gripped onto your sword’s hilts tightly, “why hello there~! Very nice to meet you, my names douma~ it’s a lovely night out tonight, isn’t it~?”

- In the corner of your eye, you saw someone struggling to crawl away safely, “HELP ME..!” said the poor girl. “Shhh! We’re talking right now!” Douma was quick with his attack, with a slash of his fans, ice shwooshed through the already-cold air.

- Shinobu was quick to the girls aid, her fast pace competed against the ice. “Are you okay?” You managed to hear shinobu’s soft question, the girl looked scared, her frightened state left her unable to answer your girlfriend’s question.

- “Whoa! You sure are fast! Are you a pillar?” Douma was quick to ask questions, he was like a child who was curious about everything he could lay his eyes on.

- But with a blink of an eye, the girl was then sliced up, her body fell onto the ground in several large pieces. “There we go..” douma adjusted himself a bit. “Ah, don’t worry about her! Just leave her over there! I’ll make sure to gobble her up later”

- Douma stood up, his large figure easily towered over shinobu. He then went on to talk about how he was the founder of something.. something about eternal paradise..?

- You quickly made a break for it, running towards the demon and slicing your sword down, just as you were about to cut up one of his arms, douma’s balled up fist came in contact with your stomach.

- A large amount of blood gushed out of your mouth as you were flung back into the wall. “Y/N!!!!” Shinobu cried out.

- “I’d appreciate it if you told your boyfriend not to sneak up on me like that again..” Douma looked down at shinobu with a threatening look, but she didn’t care.

- She wasn’t going to listen to the same demon who lead to her older sister’s death.. your consciousness faded in and out, along with your hearing. But all you could think about shinobu’s safety.

- You groaned as you stood up, the pain in your stomach dying down at a painful rate. You climbed up onto the bridge/deck(??) and steadily took your balance back.

- But the moment you looked up you saw something horrifying, shinobu being struck by one of douma’s icy attacks. You yelled out to her before quickly making your way over to her.

- You shielded shinobu’s recovering body with your own, making sure douma had no chance to take a hit on her.

- “Could you please move out the way~? I have some business to take care of that includes your girlfriend~”, “like hell I will.. I’d be damned if I let you touch her..”

- “Hm.. You seem like a snack good enough for akaza! Ooo~! I could gift your dead body to him as a little token of our friendship~!!” Douma jumped up and down excitedly like a child.

- “Wha..” you could finish your tiny sentence before you were struck by one of douma’s attacks. Making you immediately drop to the floor like a fly.

- Shinobu looked back over to you to see you lying on the floor, your throat spurting out blood everywhere on the wood below you. Some drips of blood seeping down the cracks of the deck and into the pond water.

- “nonononononono..! y/n talk to me!!” You could only cough as a response. Your eyes grew glossy with tears as you realized this was your end..

- “You.. fucking piece of shit.. I’ll make sure to drag your body to hell and watch you burn in the enteral flames..”

(yk how the rest of the fight goes)

GRRRRR I REALLY WANTED TO ADD MORE HASHIRA BUT IM WAY PAST MY PUBLISH DATE SO THIS IS ALL I COULD DO 💔💔💔💔💔

IM SO SORRY GUYS :(((((

#hashira #hashira hcs #demon slayer #demon slayer x gender neutral reader #demon slayer x male reader #sad hcs #rengoku x you #uzui x you #mitsuri x you #shinobu x you

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katyawriteswhump · 25 days

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(i'm still) watching you—harringrove microfic

my first attempt at harringrove and probably totally weird like my usual shit, so… yeah, nervous. but I love prompts/challenges too much to resist… Pls be kind 🙂

WC: 914. For @harringrovemicrofic prompt, green (I also got a passing mention of Jason Carver in for the additional prompt.)

CW: None. Tags: angst, pining, chronic illness (Fibro/Chronic fatigue), enemies to lovers, h/c, no Upside Down AU, slightly soft Billy? Rating: M.

…

Steve hated sitting in the stands watching the Tigers win without him.

Hargrove rained all over the hoop, right until the full-time whistle ripped through Steve’s skull. Simultaneously, Billy ripped his vest off—shouting, thudding his chest, scanning the crowd.

His crazily soft-blue eyes rested on Steve. That smug grin faltered, and Steve’s heart gave a crazy little squeeze.

Billy’s attention snapped away. His teammates carried him on a lap of victory, and Steve shaded his eyes. Too fucking much. Since he’d got sick, the doctors had droned on about Steve having to pace himself. Today, that’d been a bust—all for the torture of watching Hargrove play.

Even though Steve hated him.

And he’d chew on that image of shirtless Billy for goddamn weeks.

“Stop bawling, Harrington.” Steve startled, squinted into the suddenly too-bright light. Tommy H waggled a stuffed tiger in front of his nose: “You can be team mascot. This one’s got even less backbone than you.”

“Jesus, I’m gonna punch your stupid face in!”

Steve pushed himself up. Despite his dumb threat, it took all his strength to stumble away. Halfway to the exit, he collapsed onto a seat, slumping forward with his head in his hands. The crowd stomped by, sending shockwaves through his aching bones. Nobody offered to help. Probably figured he’d bite their heads off…

A hand landed on his shoulder. “You okay?” asked Billy.

WTF? Steve flinched away. Up close, he couldn’t handle those stupidly long lashes and gorgeous eyes. “M’fine.”

“Want a ride?”

“You leaving already?” Steve gawked at Billy’s pecs. “Guess there’s only so much showboating even your fat ego can take.”

Billy arched his brow. “I’m sick of this shit. Your ex-teammates are fucking losers, you know that?”

Uh… Yeah?

“Whatever, dude. I’m leaving with Nance.” Steve had just spotted her with freshman golden-boy, Jason Carver, scribbling madly in her notebook.

“She’s writing an essay on that asshole. Couldn’t bag me. Seriously, I need space. Figured you might too.”

Space with me? “Jesus, you still never stop talking! You hate me. What’s your game?”

Billy shrugged. “I don’t hate you, man. It genuinely sucks you had to be benched. Don’t have to believe me, but I actually miss you.”

Miss humiliating me? Miss me rubbing my ass against you while you shoved me around!?! Guess I enjoyed touching you as much as I hated you. I mean, uh, I STILL hate you…

“I don’t need your fucking sympathy, Hargrove.”

“Not offering fucking sympathy.”

Steve’s heart repeated that crazy squeeze. He’d grabbed the hem of Billy’s green shorts before he knew it.

Don’t leave. I honestly can’t get up without help right now. Won’t ask for help, either.

Billy harrumphed vaguely, casually offered a hand. Steve clasped it—since when did he dig slippery palms?—let Billy draw him up and sling an arm around him. Even with Billy’s help, the effort of walking consumed Steve completely till he sank into the Camaro.

Billy winked at him from the driver’s seat. “Don’t worry, I’ll go gentle.”

“Jesus, I’m not gonna break.”

“You wanna go home?”

Yeah, I totally should. “No fucking way. Anywhere but this dump.”

With minimal wheelspin, Billy tore from the school grounds. He didn’t play loud music. They didn’t talk much either. Seemed Billy did occasionally shut up. Only Steve fizzing nerves—WTF AM I DOING?—kept him awake until Billy slammed to a halt.

Steve blinked. “Where are we?”

“One of the few places in this shithole that’s not a shithole.” Billy hurried around and helped Steve from the car.

“I’m not a fucking princess,” Steve bitched.

“Whatever you say, pretty boy.”

“Screw you.” Steve’s glare melted into a laugh that he almost felt.

They’d arrived somewhere in the hills, which smelled of spring grasses. Steve slipped from Billy’s warm grasp—not without a dumbass pang—lay flat on the soft turf. Beyond the trickle of a stream, it was so quiet, he dozed almost instantly.

Then, through the blur of his lashes, he spotted Billy stripping his shorts. Christ, that ass!

Billy headed for the stream. His smirk was as mind-blowing as his body. “I skipped showers.”

“Fucking show-boater.” Steve snickered.

He watched Billy wade thigh deep, splash sparkling droplets over that lick-able, lithely muscled torso. He wished he could watch this a billion times over, ached to join Billy, then his eyelids grew too heavy, his fatigue winning, and… Shit!

Deep inside, something snapped. He slung an arm across his face and cried, drifted, then cried again, shamelessly sniffling. A brush against his arm stirred him. Billy lay stretched beside him, towel around his waist, chin rested on a fist.

“Tears are cathartic, huh?”

Steve rolled to full-on sneer at Billy. Ended up fixed on Billy’s lush mouth, fretting his own lower lip. “Quit mocking me.”

“I’m not. Tears help. Apart from when they’re too damn painful. You don’t have to say which those are.”

Billy reached out, as if to push hair from Steve’s damp eyes, then hesitated. Steve grabbed Billy’s fingers, like he’d grabbed for his shorts. He barely breathed. He clasped Billy’s stream-chilled knuckles to his own burning face, like his life depended on it.

“Meant what I said about missing you,” murmured Billy, as Steve drowned in those adoring eyes. “None of those dicks are half-decent rivals. It sucks we never got a chance to work through that tension and…"

This is a dream, right?

Billy’s fingers slid up through Steve’s hair, gently drawing him closer, and they tumbled into a kiss.

#harringrovemicrofic3 #harringrove microfic #harringrovemicrofic #harringrove #harringrove ficlet #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington whump #steve harrington hc #steve harrington #billy hargrove #billy x steve #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #i can't believe there's not a tag for bitchy steve harrington #no upside down au

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jokeson-u · 10 months

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ok so we know shauna is the fastest, lottie has the best footwork, and tai is likely the best all around player. i wanna expand a little on that and what i think the other varsity members are good at.

so first off. jackie. shes the best playmaker. her dad was the local kids soccer coach when she was little and it was her major bonding point with him. she actually enjoyed playing soccer, and watching it with her dad. theyd make plays together and as she got older it kinda stopped but its still a sentimental thing for her.

shauna was always a fast runner, but she preferred track to soccer. jackie really wanted shauna to join from a young age, and shauna didn't like it but she did like spending time w jackie, and she was able to work off some of her frustration on the field when running. she enjoys going on morning jogs sometimes still, and tai occasionally joins her.

lottie was kinda similar to jackie in terms of playing from a young age. her parents and therapist found it important that lottie be involved in social activities. she didnt really care about it, but when she realized she actually had skill she started to enjoy it. it was an easy way to make friends so her parents and therapist dont worry, and as she gets older, its an excuse not to be sitting at home all alone. lottie is a very dedicated person when she cares about something, so her effort in soccer resulted in her above average footwork on the field.

taissa did softball, swim, and briefly basketball as a kid. she wasnt super into it but she was pretty good. like lottie, taissa is a dedicated person, but unlike her, tai puts her 110% into everything, even if she doesnt care about it all that much. she wants to be the best at everything she does. during a soccer unit in middle school gym, she realizes soccer is everything she likes in a sport- especially because its the best shes ever played.

van is goalie obviously, and has the best reflexes. she doesnt do a ton of on field drills bc of her position but she does a lot of training w coach ben while the team does their drills. shes improved drastically at her goalie skills with all the one on one during practice. plus, tai sometimes ropes her into practicing when she goes over to her place, and tai does not go easy on her lol.

natalie is the best scorer. she doesnt actually play organized soccer until high school, but she used to practice juggling a ball in front of her trailer growing up. she got really good at it which is why she figured she'd join the team in high school as something to get her away from her parents. because of her physical comfort with the ball, she was naturally good at taking controlled shots.

laura lee is the best passer and executer. she listens intently to the plays given and is the backbone of getting the ball across the field. but shes also shes really good at sort of sitting back and observing the other teams strengths and weaknesses, and applying that to each play and setting up opportunities for her own team.

mari is a really fucking good defender. she grew up with a lot of brothers, most of which played football, so shes really aggressive and rough by nature when she needs to be.

idk who I'm forgetting and i dont care enough about allie to include her lol

#yellowjackets #jackie taylor #shauna shipman #taissa turner #lottie matthews #natalie scatorccio #van palmer #vanessa palmer #charlotte matthews #taivan #kinda

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disney-is-mylife · 5 months

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Disney Prince x Princess Couples SWAP!!!

FYI: I'm ONLY counting official Princess couples, which ends with Anna being the last one with a canon love interest. So, there's no Merida, Elsa, Moana, or Raya. The goal for this was to have Prince x Princess crossover pairings ONLY.

Snow White x Eugene

Rapunzel is basically Modern-Day Snow White, and they have very similar Pure Hearts, the kind that can break down Eugene's walls. Snow White knows how to be firm when necessary, but her greatest strength is her unfailing kindness. Eugene would definitely reveal his deepest desires after sharing a cup of tea with Snow.

Cinderella x Adam (the Beast)

Picture this: Cinderella chooses to stay at the Beast's castle in exchange for her family (be it her dad, who is alive some versions of the fairytale, or her step-family, because she IS selfless enough to try to help them). She no longer has to work as a slave (though knowing her, she'd still damn well would try to help out), and she would assimilate easily into an Enchanted Castle's environment, and her gentleness and kindness, with juuuuust a bit more of a feisty backbone to confront the Beast's temper, would unravel the Beast's tangled heart.

Aurora x Eric

There are two things Phillip and Eric have in common: they both slayed the villain in an incredibly badass fashion, and they both are smitten with a mysterious voice. Eric is 1000% an homage to Prince Phillip's character, and you cannot tell me that he wouldn't fall head over heels in love with Mary Costa "Briar Rose's" gorgeous voice. (And let's be real, Aurora definitely has a Type lol)

Ariel x John Smith

Ariel wants to see the human world. John Smith wants to explore the "New World." You do the math. Okay, in all honesty, this is lowkey my least favorite pairing 😭 but when you take away the Awkward Historical Stuff, they do still??? kinda fit???? It's one thing for Ariel to go ashore the nearest human kingdom; it's another for her to actually EXPLORE the planet, with an equal adventurer by her side. (Originally, I paired her with Aladdin, but I found an equal, if not better partner for him below ^^")

Belle x Phillip

Here's a "Prince Charming" who takes names and kicks ass and would provide the adventure Belle wants so dearly. Also, I just want good things for Belle, so really, who wouldn't want Prince Slay-a-Dragon-Get-the-Girl Phillip???

Jasmine x Shang

Shang likes a woman who can kick his ass, whether physically or verbally, and Jasmine 1000% fits the bill. Also, she'd whip that Internalized Misogyny out of his system faster than you can say "I'll Make a Man Out of You" lol

Pocahontas x Kristoff

Look, they're both outdoorsy types, definitely prefer animals to people, and totally would take up rock climbing as a couple's activity. They're one of the few couples on this list that I did NOT change my mind on; they just fit, okay????

Mulan x Florian

Idk sometimes I'm a basic bitch and just want a Malewife x Girlboss pairing bksbdvhbdvnmsdxngf

Tiana x Charming

I just want good things for Tiana and if that means marrying a rich prince who'll step back and let her manage her own restaurant or the palace kitchens, then so be it! Again, Malewife x Girlboss 😤

Rapunzel x Aladdin

Both are adventurous, both have confidence in their abilities despite their traumas, and Rapunzel is feisty enough for Aladdin's tastes. (Also, I have an inexplicable image of them adventuring throughout Agrabah with Punzie's hair swinging them about, Spider-Man style hdbgfjsdbhkgbsdf XD)

Anna x Naveen

Look, Naveen has actual Game, and is NOT sinister like Hans, so he would EASILY sweep Anna off her feet, in the best way possible. But he wouldn't jump to marriage, and Elsa's Ice Queen presence would prevent him from, ah, moving things too fast lol ^^" Naveen, at the end of the day, is a supporter, not a leader, and that gives room for Anna to take the reins.

#Starling ramblings #Disney #Disney crossover #Disney Princess #Disney couples #Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs #Tangled #Cinderella #Beauty and the Beast #Sleeping Beauty #The Little Mermaid #Pocahontas #Aladdin #Mulan #The Princess and the Frog #Frozen #please don't @ me these are literally crack pairings khdbfkhf #that said I DID try to be fair and match them as best as I could #20 notes

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vacantgodling · 3 months

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oc kiss week day 3: sunrise

WIP: the chronicles of lathsbury (tcol)

SHIP: clear brightendale (he/him, medic) x forte symphonia (he/him, ranger aka an archer)

SUMMARY: on a quiet morning, forte finally replies to the feelings clear shared with him 4 months ago.

worldbuilding notes: technically this is a spoiler scene, as it happens after the main plot events of tcol's book 1. aside from the kissing, no spoilers are really prevalent though.

It happened on a quiet sort of morning.

It rained the night before, there was fresh dew on the ground in patches of wet earth and grass, and the land smelled of a certain kind of freshness that could only be found in nature. Forte breathed the smell in deep, sitting silently on the small patch of dry roofing that his childhood home had to offer.

It was good to be back, better even than he imagined. Forte was never suited for city life. People were constantly bustling, hustling; there was always an unyielding sense of urgency that was lost on him— an urgency that he couldn’t understand. With so little time with the grass beneath their feet and the wind in their hair; it was as though people were eager to do as much as possible to leave some kind of legacy behind. Piper was like that: brash, fierce, bold, unwavering. Last he heard from her she was almost at the top of her class at the knight academy. The mark she wanted to leave on this world was bright, and it radiated the same intensity. But quite her opposite, Forte preferred these quiet moments, and he was craving them by the time he finally was able to cash in some vacation time with Cameron to come see how everyone was doing back home.

Bass Landing was a quiet sort of place. People knew each other well, and there was never any need for formalities. The community had been supporting itself on the backbone of the arts for centuries, and the familial ties that everyone felt there were too rich, and rooted in history to be broken. Forte grew up amongst his neighbor’s gardens; tall leafy plants teaching him his first lessons in utilizing visage. The river that ran behind the furthest outskirts of the settlement was a tumultuous teacher of the treachery life could bring: almost every year, the River Cadenza brought forth her waves and flooded the landscape. Every year as Forte watched, he began to learn how to predict her near unpredictable nature. It was when he told his findings to his mother that he received his first bow; for he had proven the intuition of a Ranger. It was a test he was never informed he would be taking, but one he was glad he did all the same. It felt too easy to reminisce when he was on the roof like this.

“Up so early already?”

Clear’s voice wasn’t an unwelcome one. He’d shown the medic the way up here when they arrived together two evenings ago, and each morning he would sleepily crawl up the rickety ladder to join him in watching the sunrise. It hadn’t been a whim that Forte asked him home either. After they finally talked 4 months ago, and Clear divulged the true meaning behind his avoidance, they’d been becoming closer than ever.

It was also not unwelcome.

As per usual, Clear drowsily rubbed his eyes and yawned, hoisting himself up the rest of the way of the ladder with relative ease. It was easy to forget the strength hidden underneath his covered arms— a strength that was misleading. Almost embarrassed to admit to it, his mind recalled the moment he realized just how strong the medic was when Clear hoisted him clean over his shoulder like a deadweight that meant nothing to him. He’d called Clear in for a demonstration in one of his classes for the best methods to carry injured teammates away from the Labyrinth or battle, and the class was positively delighted to see it happen. It was also the first time they’d touched each other casually since that night Clear told him and Forte pretended not to notice Clear’s hand flexing in the aftermath, as he was too busy trying to calm his heart’s own shivers.

“It feels like you keep waking up earlier and earlier to test my devotion.”

Forte quirked a small smirk. “Maybe I am.”

The medic laughed, quietly but brightly, and the sound was personified sunlight. The first few rays of the sun were beginning to peak out over the horizon, and Forte looked over to Clear as he got settled in, scooting over slightly so they could somewhat share the small patch of dry roof. They were close enough their shoulders touched.

“You won’t get rid of me that easily, Fort.” Clear sighed, a happy sound, then he dropped his head unceremoniously onto his shoulder, leaning into him instinctively. And just as instinctually, Forte found his arm sliding out and snaking around Clear’s trim waist to support him.

They said nothing for a long while; the silence was comfortable, both more than willing to bask in the sunrise and the other’s presence than fill the silence with unnecessary chatter. It was one of the many things Forte came to appreciate about Clear. Though when he got worked up his mouth ran a mile a minute, he was truly a man who appreciated silence. Often, he’d seen him in various places around the Guild, meditating, humming softly to himself as he did. It was a few weeks ago that Forte had been invited to join him, and what he thought was humming before seemed to be some sort of invocation or a prayer:

♪ Blessed be those who follow Her Blessed be those whom She guides My soul worn and weary from life Has followed Her to great divide ♪

“And when my time has come, O She,” He heard Clear whispering to himself, as if on cue with his memory. “Comforter of those benign Will take me home to Cerullis And my heart Hers to hide.”

“Where did you learn that song?” Clear hummed again, this time noncommittal. He didn’t answer right away and Forte didn’t push him— with Clear, facing his demons and uncovering his past was something that took time, energy, and patience. Forte had time.

“We used to—” Clear cut himself off, thought, then started again. “It’s a song sung before hunts to remind those participating to be unafraid. Death is not here to hurt, but to guide away to the promised land.” Clear finally looked at Forte, his eyes surprisingly calm. “I still sing it because it reminds me to be unafraid.”

“Is there something you’re afraid of right now?” Forte asked, and Clear chuckled, softly. “No. Not at all. It just brings me comfort.” Clear nestled back into his chest without another word, and Forte let his hold tighten around the medic.

When the sun’s rays were fully visible, the sky turned a brilliant shade of blue, and Forte looked over at Clear again. He was nodding off again, and the sun’s light was perfectly positioned just right so that he could admire him. His lashes were long and dark, fluttering like butterfly wings over his half visible purple eyes. His hair dropped in front of his face like, casting delicate shadows over his cheeks and nose. His lips were plush, slightly parted, enough to see the beginnings of his teeth. Forte was overcome with the overwhelming desire to kiss him. It was becoming harder not to these days.

But in this quiet moment, in this sleepy town, with a gentle breeze blowing across the expanse of the trees, up his roof and through the hair of his companion, Forte felt his heart swell— in a way he hadn’t felt in ages.

“Clear.” The medic sleepily opened his eyes, rubbing them on the back of his knuckle. “Oh! Sorry, did I fall asleep on you?” He began to sit up but Forte’s grip on his waist tightened, giving the other man pause. He looked at him questioningly. Somewhere in those bright, searching violet eyes, Forte saw poorly disguised hope.

“I love you.”

The wind blew Forte’s dark hair back from his face, and he watched the myriad of emotions morph on his companion’s face. He stayed perfectly still, letting him process it. His heart was a painful drumbeat against his ribs.

“You…. Mean that?” Clear finally settled on. He looked nervous—hopeful, but nervous. Afraid it was too soon. Never that it was a joke. He knew Forte would never joke with him like this. Not after what he said before.

Forte’s smile was soft, his eyes crinkling at their corners and genuine and something like a tidal wave crashed into Clear’s body that made it very hard to breathe. He didn’t say anything else, afraid of breaking whatever spell the two of them were under, with Forte looking at him like some immeasurably precious thing, and Clear too stunned to believe it was him he was looking at. But Forte broke the moment; he leaned in, and pressed soft, if chapped, lips against Clear’s own.

Kissing Forte was overwhelming, in the best way. Clear slowly let himself reply, pressing back gently, letting his eyes slowly fall closed and his arms slid up his firm chest to pull Forte closer. He went. His other arm came around to rest on Clear’s waist, and he tilted his head, letting the kiss fall deeper.

Clear smelled of lavender and fresh linen, and Forte felt intoxicated by the way lithe hands slowly climbed into his hair, tugging gently, but purposefully. Forte licked gently at the lip pressed against his, and Clear easily opened his mouth, and their tongues slid languidly against one another— enough to hint at an underlying desire that they would perhaps explore later. Much later. For now, it was enough to prod, to acknowledge, to taste, to slowly savor.

Forte slowly pulled back but didn’t stray far, and watched reverently as Clear’s eyes fluttered open. Their foreheads touched together gently, and the sun climbed higher in the sky, illuminating them.

“I love you too.” Clear said softly back and Forte smiled again, rubbing a thumb against his cheek and letting the warmth of the new morning envelope them in its embrace.

It felt like a new beginning

#ockiss24 #s: tcol #ren writing #this is a cheat cuz i wrote this 2 years ago but it just so perfectly matches sunrise and i don’t think ive ever posted it SOOO #it’s only fitting that this gets posted valentine’s day tbh

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chainofclovers · 1 year

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Ted Lasso 3x9 Thoughts

This one might be tied for favorite episode of the season for me. While I’ve been mostly willing to vibe with the jam-packed episodes, I approached 3x9 with a bit of concern; if it felt like the story was getting bigger instead of smaller here in the final third of the season, I was going to start to lose my patience. (To translate: I am an impatient person but I'm also a pretty long-fused person, and me starting to lose my patience would be akin to someone with a short fuse going fucking ham on someone.) Luckily, I felt like each thread here spoke to the other threads really neatly, like watching a cohesive conversation take place in multiple rooms. Magically.

For this one, I'm gonna attempt some bullets that cover 3x9 itself, then I need to attempt to process this weird experience of MISSING TED (while also basically appreciating what he's doing, but missing him, but appreciating him, lawjefpawoijfapweoijafwepklajwef) that has me very :eyesemoji: about the next three weeks of my life.

Nate’s desire for connection and camaraderie didn’t overshadow his ability to recognize that Rupert was trying to manipulate him into a toxic night out! There will be consequences for pulling away, and he knows it, but he did the right thing anyway. I’ve seen some discussions and arguments re: Jade’s influence on Nate and whether we should attribute Nate’s backbone and ability to make better choices to the love of a woman, and whether that’s disappointing and belittling to both characters, but I think a lot of those positions (on either side) are too hard-and-fast. Nate has always valued the things he values, and his relationship with Jade hasn’t changed his values or the fundamental truth of who he is. At the same time, being physically and emotionally close to a person you trust feels really, really good. Why shouldn’t those good feelings have a positive impact on the reserves of strength you must draw on to do things like stand up to an evil asshole you hadn’t entirely let yourself notice is an evil asshole? Nate in all his multitudes has always been Nate; Nate who is in love is able to see himself more clearly. If we were all only allowed in our real lives to experience character growth purely independently, we wouldn’t get very far.

I’ve been thinking a lot about influence and obligation when it comes to Rebecca’s storyline, too. I was a little afraid, after 3x3 and the way she initially responds to Tish’s prophecies, that Rebecca would end up a lone actor, in a sense, tracking down clues and answers at the expense of fostering her actual existing relationships. While I’m still curious and nervous and excited about what all of it means, I really appreciate that Rebecca has shown up for people this season, especially here in the latter half. Rebecca is almost certainly being driven a little crazy by the unfinished parts of what Tish told her, but she isn’t isolating herself. In calling Roy out for his avoidant behaviors and lack of accountability for the press conference (and, of course, the way his work performance mirrors his decision to leave his relationship with Keeley), she demonstrates accountability as a boss and as a friend. I don’t need to see Rebecca conducting meetings or writing emails to know she’s working, but it felt really important to me to see her get upset with Roy, both professionally and personally, and break through his exterior. Ted, Trent, Phoebe, and even Keeley have chipped away at it this season, but the epiphany required Rebecca being Rebecca. And the energy between Rebecca and Roy is very !!!

I loved the way the Nate-Rupert-Jade, Rebecca-Roy, and Roy-Isaac(-Will!) interactions all reinforce the idea that no one has the full picture of what is happening in another person’s brain, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t act on truths as they are revealed, as difficult as it may be.

As a queer person who is thankfully many years removed from the most stressful coming-out experiences I’ve had (although of course there are still plenty of moments of having to explain or identify oneself to another person—it never really ends—I consider myself “out” in that everyone in my life who I care about knowing knows I’m queer, and, so long as general safety is established, I feel able to explain it to additional people in most contexts without much or any stress), I really loved and appreciated Colin’s storyline here. Very little about my identity or place in the world resembles Colins, but so much of this episode resonated. We’ve already seen Colin describe his relationship to his sexual identity to Trent, and within that same conversation he spoke about not wanting to be a spokesperson with the pressure of publicly representing gay men. I absolutely love that the framing of the locker room scene respected those desires; he tells his teammates and coaches he’s gay, but we the public aren’t part of the several seconds that the literal announcement occurs. We get to see the freedom and relief the truth brings him, but the lessons of this episode are for the people around him.

The downside of writing this a couple days after the episode airs means I’ve read a lot of discourse, but I don’t think this episode did a disservice to Isaac or Colin. The writers room in s3 included writers specifically experientially equipped to tell this story, and to me, it shows. It shows in the realism of Isaac’s well-meaning questions (which Colin wouldn’t have answered so graciously if Isaac wasn’t so genuinely curious and caring!), and the tiring ways that queer people are burdened with conversational “obligations” and explanations that are just different than what straight people deal with. Ignorance and awareness exist on an incredibly long spectrum, and for me this story was affirming, not traumatizing, beautiful, and yet it also included the exhausting imperfections that cloak even the most positive coming-out experiences.

I’ve also been thinking a lot about Ted’s speech. Basically ever since Colin said the thing about Grindr in s2, I’ve been certain Colin would come out as gay to the team and reckon with being closeted in the context of the men’s Premier League. And literally since he made that little comment, I’ve been nervous about how Ted would react. I already knew he was a politically progressive person who identified himself as an ally, so I wasn’t afraid he’d have some kind of bigoted rejection reaction. But I did worry that his reaction would be sooooo cringe and try-hard and awkward that I’d legitimately run into issues writing and posting fiction about his obvious latent bisexuality on our home away from home, Archive of Our Own. And while Ted’s seven-layer-dip Denver Broncos analogy WAS cringe and try-hard and off-base, I absolutely loved how unflinchingly imperfect it was and how, despite those imperfections, his instinct re: the point he actually wanted to make was spot on and extremely valuable. If a white, middle-aged, (past-tense-ish hahahahahahaha I’m so normal about the word “was”) straight man who’s worked in sports his whole life had figured out the perfect thing to say, I’d have rolled my eyes at the screen. It felt realistic to me that he desperately wanted to find an analogy or connection point, immediately regretted it, and still—because of who he is when the din of his thoughts gives way actual clarity—managed to articulate that it’s very, very important that Colin’s community actually cares about who Colin is and that he was able to share this information with them. It’s the difference, in many ways, between being doomed to continue to feel like you have two lives (because you’re surrounded every day by people who look past something important to you or pretend not to see the differences) vs. knowing that even if you never come out to the entire world, you aren’t splintering yourself because you’re able to be your whole self around the people who actually matter. Anyway, the speech was imperfect and unwieldy, and that was the point, and his actual message was essential for everyone in that room to hear, and that was the point, and I will be capable of continuing to write fic in which Ted is attracted to men without his reaction to Colin haunting me. (I actually already have an idea for a future fic in which he reflects more, but that’s literally a story for another time.)

At this point in the season, I feel so curious about, um. What is happening. With Ted Lasso. The guy. In both s1 and s2, I felt about a millimeter away from him at all times, even when he wasn’t onscreen. This season, he’s so intentionally obscured. Getting to go to that museum in Amsterdam with him—and, perhaps even more importantly, the Yankee Doodle Burger Barn, and perhaps even more importantly than that, the back of that bus—was a relief and a reconnection point that was much needed, but I am absolutely FASCINATED and MYSTIFIED at this point in time at just how effective and maddening it is that I’m having a lot of trouble understanding how he truly feels about himself and the people around him. Like, I would obviously love to watch him be in love with Rebecca. But I would also love to watch him be in love with a place, or with two places, or with coaching, or with his partially-lost Beard, or with the words and images that have come to him in visions, or even with the unhealthy things that pull at him, like booze and stewing and obsession. Basically every episode—at least for me—contains some glimmer of connection, to his self or to one of his friends, and it’s always fleeting, and I’m holding onto the almost certainty of the fact that the decisions he has to make are going to require some kind of visible reckoning. Most of my nerves about the final three episodes of this show as we know it are related to these questions.

As for this episode, I don’t think I’ve quite captured the FEELINGS I felt while watching it. (I also completely failed to go into Ted sharing his biscuits with Keeley and continuing his perfect streak of making it super weird whenever he shares biscuits with a non-Rebecca person. I LOVED IT.) This was the episode that made me the most audibly squeal-y this season. And the most curious about how Ted has managed to get so far into his own brain that I actually miss him on his own show! Very curious stuff. What are the next three Tuesdays going to do to my brain and heart?

#ted lasso #ted lasso s3 spoilers #ted lasso 3x9 #hot dork club #meta by me #ted lasso meta #ted x rebecca #rebecca x roy #ted x men x allyship x cringe x but not too cringe x lol #queer things

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itzmushusworld · 2 months

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Medusa

There are many versions of every story that is passed down from generation to generation. Stories where there is always some type of information that was missed or tweaked. The story I would like to touch on today is the story of medusa, how in my opinion she she was done wrong when trying to get help from a greek god she once worshipped.

The story of Medusa

Medusa was the daughter of Forces and Seto who worshipped Athena like no other but never got a response . She was strikingly beautiful which later got the attention of Poseidon. Medusa has two sister named Yuriel and Steno who were immortal unlike her. Medusa possessed such beauty that it got the attention of a greek god known as Poseidon, he wanted to abuse Medusa in the temple dedicated the Athena. Poseidon tried to take advantage of Medusa but she prayed to Athena for help but Athena didn’t tolerate what was happening within her temple and instead of punishing Poseidon she put a curse on Medusa. Athena took away Medusas Beauty and gave her snakes as hair and if that weren’t enough she put a curse on Medusa, anyone who looked her in the eyes would turn into stone. Medusa had got her beauty and innocence ripped from her for something that wasn’t even her fault. Medusa was disowned by men and took refuge in the confines of the world with her sisters. She lived this way for years in loneliness and suffering. One day she was discovered by the hero known as Perseus who was sent to behead her. Perseus was helped by the gods, he possessed the helmet of invisibility by Hades, the salty sandals of Hermes, the shield of Athena and lastly a sharp sickle. Perseus managed to approach Medusa without being seen using the reflection of the shield as a mirror, with an accurate cut he beheaded Medusa and kept it in a magic bag. But to his surprise for the bleeding of Medusa, emerged two creatures Pegasus the winged horse and Chris AOR the warrior with a golden sword. They were now children of possessed and Medusa even after her death. Since Medusa’s head still turned people to stone Perseus used this to his advantage defeating his enemies in his adventures, then he finally gave the head of Medusa to Athena. Who kept Medusa’s head under protection and turned it into a powerful and fearsome shield.

Peoples opinions + My own

People think Athena was jealous of Medusa’s beauty and other people think that Athena did it to protect her from ever being harmed again. I lean more towards the never being harmed again. My reason being if Athena was jealous of her beauty I believe she would have just took her beauty and gave her snakes for hair, but the added curse for turning people to stone. The curse to me could be a good backbone to the theory that Athena was just trying to protect Medusa from it ever happening again. There are many versions of the story along with many other stories, but the fact she gave her the curse along with her beauty i believe that it was to protect her.

Was Medusa evil?

While doing further research people see Medusa as evil because of her snakes for hair and the fact she turns people to stone just by her gaze. Other people see Medusa as a tragic figure who was done wrong.

Medusa Tattoo

You may have seen people with the Medusa tattoo. People don’t really know the meaning behind said tattoo so i will give the story behind it since we are on the topic of her. There are many meanings behind the tattoo but what it is normally known for it:

- Surviving a sexual assault or abuse

- Strength

-Power

- Female empowerment

The meaning behind the tattoo varies depending on the person. Sometimes there isn’t any meaning at all and the person just likes her backstory and sees her as a person who should be recognized and appreciated.

Myths surrounding Medusa

People think Medusa is just a fears monster in the heroic story of Perseus. In order to free his mother he was sent to behead Medusa and give her head to Athena. They leave the story at that not telling why Medusa had the snakes for hair or why she had the ability to turn people to stone with just her gaze. She was mortal after all how could she just possess those abilities on her own, some may say her parents and that she inherited it or it was just pure bad luck.

Medusa is different in every persons beliefs but they are my personal opinion on medusa’s story and stuff surrounding Medusa.

My opinion why not make sense to you or you have a different belief so you disagree. But it’s just my thoughts, that’s why it’s called an opinion.

-Someone who thinks 24/7

#medusa #greek mythology #background #tragic story #beauty #my writing #opinion

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the-ayakashi-in-me · 7 months

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If Spring is here, can Winter be far behind?

Summary:

"I may not be chosen by God. But I have been chosen by fate."

The disappearance of Crown Prince Satoru Gojo, all but leaves the Empire in disarray. With no one else fit to inherit the throne, Princess Shiyori Gojo must now take on the challenge of finding her brother and being the Emperor chosen by fate.

Starring: SatoSugu, Nanami x OC, Naoya x OC and practically everyone from JJK.

Genre: ANGST, isekai au, drama, fluff (eventually), and whatever genre you use to feed your delusions.

Warnings: JJK is a warning on its own, toxic relationships, violence, a little gore, probable eventual smut, MANGA SPOILERS, established relationship, ANGST, mental illness, characters might be a little OOC. (Lemme know if I've missed anything)

A/N: Some world-building before getting to the main plot. Hope this makes sense.

Series Masterlist:

Gloom

Doom

“Today we gather to celebrate the rise of our Empire’s next sentinel.”

High Priest Gagkuganji addressed the conglomeration of nobles who either scoffed or sighed. Every noble Lord and Lady gathered jumped at the opportunity to pass their judgment on this outrageous situation.

“The Empire is as good as dead.”

“I’ve begun to look for asylum outside.”

“His Majesty has gone senile.”

However, the issue that resounded the most was, “How could the founding clans let this happen?”

Many monarchs ago, the land that is now celebrated as the Akutami Empire, was fraught with war and disease. Sorcerers reigned supreme. With each sorcerer stronger than the next, the common people suffered lifetimes of misery. Back then sorcery was all about conquer or be conquered. One such sorcerer whose name has been wiped out from the annals of history, conquered not only the land of Akutami but also a small region adjacent to it. Today that small region goes by the name of the Gege Kingdom.

Amidst all the chaos arose, one particular entity, who was none other than Goddess Utahime herself. Though, at that time she was merely mortal. However, her actions were nothing short of divine. Through her kindness, she paved the way for peace. Through her sacrifice, she paved the way for hope. And through her acts of service, she showed the world what sorcery was really about. She protected the weak and supported the promising.

“Sorcery is not a blade, but the backbone for humanity.” With her conviction unfaltering, she singlehandedly vanquished, the devil-incarnate and sealed him away for eons to come. Finally, dawn broke on that unending night. But the people could not even cheer. How could they? For their beloved divinity stood their fading. Utahime had used every last ounce of her strength that her mortal body could offer.

“Why do you weep so?” her voice held a hint of mischief, even in her final moments. Often, the conduct of divinity is beyond that of mortal reasoning. “What you consider as sacrifice, is but an old habit of mine. And old habits die hard, I’m afraid.” by now she was just a mirage of what she used to be.

“My Lady, please use the life left in us and sustain yourself. It is far too early for you to leave this realm.”

“Yes, My Lady! We beg of you!”

“Do with our lives as you see fit.”

For a moment her smile faltered, then she heaved a heavy sigh. “Prostating yourselves to hide your tears. I must say, that is quite clever. As expected of you three.” The ones in question only seemed to fist the dirt harder and hole their heads further into the ground, while yes, silently mourning the loss of their illustrious mentor.

“My beloved Gojo, I trust you to pass on my discipline.”

“I-it shall be d-done My Lady.”

“My cherished Zen’in, I entrust you with my wisdom.”

“Y-yes My L-lady!”

“And my treasured Kamo, I have faith you will do justice with my grace.”

“A-as you w-wish My Lady!”

The distraught trio dared not look up still. Who could bear to watch the object of their devotion fade out of existence itself? Not them. But they could tell that she was not for long, with the distant calling of her voice.

“Fret not. How far could I possibly go from those close to my heart?” and with a final, mischievous chuckle the revered Utahime departed for the next realm.

Later, it was unanimously decided that Gojo would rise as the Emperor, for he was the one to serve the hallowed Utahime, the longest, while Zen’in and Kamo would serve as his Dukes. With Gojo at the head, and Zen’in and Kamo as the wings, the Akutami Empire soared from the ashes.

It was customary for a monarch to pay their respects to Utahime at their Coronation. Hence, it always ensued at the Temple, in the presence of all the Empire’s nobles. Utahime was a deity of conviction, she preached the power held within words. The words spoken out loud are said to strengthen their resolve and reinforce their faith. With time, this was called The Emperor’s Vow.

Today, Princess Shiyori, was to become the new Emperor. She stood in front of a displeased crowd, wearing a refitted dress and jewels that once belonged to her mother. It was customary for the new Emperor to be dressed in gold, along with all the medals of valour they had achieved in life.

However, Shiyori was the first woman to become Emperor, and through sheer ill-fate, at that. She had no medals or laurels to speak of. All she had was her mother’s gowns and jewels. “People will be dissatisfied no matter the circumstances. I’d rather put these to some good use,” she explained to the royal tailor when she refused to have a new dress made.

And she was right, they whispered behind her back. They whispered in front of her. They whispered as she walked down the aisle, towards the altar. They all eagerly whispered, yet none seemed to have the backbone to say it out loud. As she walked her somber expression turned into something far more dangerous. Once she reached the altar, she faced the crowd one final time. “I may not be chosen by God. But, I have been chosen by fate.” indifference dripped from her voice.

High Priest Gakuganji quickly concealed the smug smile that had crept up on him. He took a breath, “Let us commence the Coronation. Princess you may take the vow.” Princess Shiyori turned around and knelt before the altar. She lowered her head before Utahime and silently asked her to watch over her brother, wherever he was. She vowed to step up and become the Emperor her people needed, just as long as Satoru would come back home.

“In times of joy, in times of war,

The vile and wicked, beware my roar.

To protect our empire, as before,

By my hand, justice shall be restored.”

She was met with deafening silence. She expected it, but it still hurt more than she thought it would. A vow unacknowledged is as good as an empty promise. A vow can only exist between two or more people. If no one in this chapel spoke up to acknowledge the vow, Shiyori would be unable to ascend the throne. And that would only cause more problems. She clutched her mother’s golden silk gown, her knuckles turning white. Was there truly no one who had even a little faith in her”

“Such is as our Saviour Utahime foretold!”

Three very distinct voices resounded within the chapel. Shiyori let out a shaky breath. “With the vow acknowledged in Our Lady Utahime’s presence, this marks the inception of Emperor Shiyori Gojo. Long live the King!” with that High Priest Gakuganji placed the ornate crown on Shiyori’s head.

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lowkeyerror · 2 years

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No Escape pt3

Dark!WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Stalking, Attempted suicide, kidnapping

Summary: Y/n learns she's trapped in Westview. Knowing this pushes her over the edge.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Similar to the last time Wanda invaded her dreams, Y/n began to pack up her belongings. If Wanda and Natasha were in the room with her unconscious body, they were too close.

Natasha had tasted her, had laid on top of her, and she was none the wiser. If it wasn't for Wanda telling her, she wouldn't have known. They were toying with her. Wanda and Natasha could've gotten her right there. She would have woken up with them standing over her, powerless.

She had to move quickly.

It didn't take long for her to put some clothes on and grab her things. As soon as she was ready, she left the motel.

For some reason, she was having trouble remembering how to leave the city. Usually she wasn't so forgetful, but today it had escaped her. She searched her bag for her map, yet she came up empty. Though it was frustrating, none of this mattered. Y/n still had to leave the town, whether she knew where she was going or not.

She picked a direction and started walking. If she walked long enough, she knew she'd hit the town's limit. She was right, eventually Y/n hit the town limits, but something was wrong. Something felt off.

Y/n tried to walk out of the town, but there was a barrier. She pushed and pushed, but it wouldn't budge. The image in front of her seemed to buzz.

Frustrations started to build up in her. She dropped her bag and ran at the barrier. She did it over and over again. Her body collided with the invisible wall each time. Her body hurt by the time she finally relented.

She slumped against the barrier, tears welling in her eyes.

" Fuck."

Y/n stared at what should've been her way out. She didn't let her tears fall. She set her jaw and grabbed her things.

The woman walked back to the motel. Agatha still sat at the helpers desks.

" Late night stroll, hun," the woman tried to engage in small talk.

Y/n smiled politely," Something like that. Hey Agatha, do you happen to know how to get to the next town over?"

She stared blankly at Y/n, " The next town over?"

" Yes, is there-"

" There's only Westview," she cut off Y/n. The far away look in her eye was off-putting.

" But my map-"

Agatha raised her voice," There is only Westview!" The harsh tone disappeared as soon as it arrived," It's the perfect little town. Who would want to leave?"

She followed it up with a laugh. This wasn't right, Y/n knew that much. She didn't stay with the laughing women, instead she went back to her room. Y/n sat on the bed with her head in her hands. This town wasn't what it seemed to be. It was a trap for Y/n.

The border stopped her exiting, the people weren't going to help, and she was cut off from the outside world. They finally trapped her. Now the tears fell. The frustration finally exited her body. What started out as a few stray tears turned into full on sobs. Her body shook violently, her throat became raw, snot fell from her nose.

She didn't know how long she cried for. It felt like an eternity. She felt small again. Y/n felt like the little, fragile girl that got her into this situation in the first place.

She marched to the restroom to stare at her reflection. Her eyes were bloodshot, staring back at her.

It didn't matter how strong she looked on the outside. The weakness was in her eyes. She could craft her body to mimic strength and resilience, but staring into her own eyes, she saw weakness.

It was as if she watched herself shrink back to the girl she used to be. There was no backbone in that girl. That girl needed Wanda and Natasha. She was lost without them.

" I hate that you make me feel this way. You like me like this, when I can hardly stand on my own two feet. All helpless and pitiful."

Y/n went back to the main room and dug through her bag. She got what she was looking for and returned to the bathroom. Her movements and breathing were erratic.

" Let me out, or I'll end it all right here. I know you can hear me. I know that you're watching. I'm not bluffing."

Y/n put the gun to the temple of her head," Let me out of here."

She cocked the weapon. Her reflection was mocking her, daring her to pull the trigger.

" I don't believe you, sweetheart."

Wanda was in the mirror. Natasha at her side. Wanda looked confident. Natasha looked like she was on edge. She was fidgeting, she knew that Y/n wasn't bluffing.

" I loved you, both of you, at one point. But I told you, I will never love you like this."

Her hand is steady, her face is straight. Y/n takes a breath and closes her eyes. Then she pulls the trigger.

" NO."

Wanda tries to stop Y/n. She reaches through the mirror and tries to push the gun away, but she is too slow.

Then Y/n opens her eyes. Her heart is beating like it never had. She looks at the gun and then at herself.

She took out the clip, there were no bullets. The gun slipped from her grasps. Before she can process what's happening, there's a pair of arms wrapping around her.

"Get off of me. Get off of me. Get off of me," she repeats it through her tears.

Y/n tries to push the person off of her, but the body won't budge.

" Just let me hold you, please. Just for a moment, dorogaya."

Y/n relents, and for a moment she allows herself to feel safe in Natasha's arms. The woman holds her as if she would disappear.

" It's not fair," Y/n viciously wipes her eyes," It's not fair that I want you to hold me after pushing me over the edge."

She pulls herself away from Natasha, only to stumble into Wanda’s frame. When Y/n catches Wanda’s eyes, she sees the trail of mascara trailing down her face.

" How could you do that?"

Her eyes began to glow that dangerous hue of red. Y/n takes a few steps away from her.

" Wanda," Natasha says, trying to calm the witch.

" Don't. Her brains would've been splattered all over the wall. She would lay dead here, if that gun was loaded," she pauses," She'd rather die than be with us."

" That's not true," Natasha shakes her head.

Y/n didn't want to be here. She wasn't supposed to be here. It was all supposed to be over. She couldn't keep running, but she'd rather die than be caught.

" Please, let me go," Y/n says amidst the tension.

" Why? So you can kill yourself? "

Natasha yells at her again," Wanda, stop it!"

" You aren't going anywhere."

The witch made it impossible for Y/n to move, just like in that first dream. Instead of strolling over to her, she appeared behind Y/n, wordlessly. Wanda began to use her magic to lull the young Stark to sleep.

" The chase was fun, bunny, but I'm not ever letting you leave me again."

Taglist: @bibliophilicbi @tigerlillyruiz @coollemonsaresour @captains-simp

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #wanda x nat x reader #wandanat x reader #lowkey error halloween special

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lesbiangummybearmafia · 5 months

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The Gilded Age, 02x07, Wonders never Cease. My thoughts

This episode was a fucking roller-coaster of a ride! One moment I'm crying then next I'm happy for someone, next I'm completely suspicious of one certain rich mrs. pain in ass.

First to everyone that was on to Muade Beaten right off the bat y'all get million brilliant points and I completely apologize for ever doubting any of you. Omg y'all were so right!! I truly didn't believe she was part of the scam. She freakin good! Give her award for that shit. At the same time I'm sad because I wanted her to be on the up and up. I really liked her, especially with Oscar. They made a cute couple. Omg poor Oscar, I just wanted to hug him when he started crying at John's place and I started crying for Oscar. Then when he tells Aunt Agnes how much money he lose, I started crying for all of them. Because I thought he had just used his individual money for the investment not his mother's money also. That's when I was oh no no no Oscar!! This has to be ok somehow, it just has too.

Then if that wasn't hard enough they have Luke pass away. I was just sobbing when Aunt Ada woke up he was gone. It's just awful that they were together for such a short time. Aunt Ada deserves so much more than just a taste of happily married bliss. My heart just brakes for her. At the same time I am glad she got to be loved like that and love someone in that way.

I did love what Aunt Agnes said to Luke when they were alone. It was also wonderful getting to see that side of her, Aunt Agnes truly loves and cares for her family. Even though she has this tough outer exterior, once you get pass that she's quite loving and she a softness about her. I like how she take her role as head of her family, all her family seriously. Aunt Agnes will always be the strength, the backbone, the true North for them. No matter if it takes kicking their ass or loving them like mad but most likely both she will be there doing it. Aunt Agnes over this season especially has become another of my favorite characters.

Ok once again not enough Bertha in the episode! I think we got spoiled last season because the show kinda revolved around Bertha and the Russell's. But this season their expending the other characters story lines more so we're getting less of what I want the most Bertha. Maybe they could made TGA two hours long episodes. I totally watch them!!

But onto what we did get. First fucking Mrs. Astor, suddenly all oh I got you box at the Academy of music. Yea like Bertha wasn't gonna be what this bitch up to. Mrs. Astor overly nice, her voice dripping with enough sugar put Bertha into glucose shock. Mrs. Astor should work on her fake nice act it's really transparent to anyone that can smell bullshit at 1000 feet. Then the stunt she pulled at Aurora's just made her look stupid not Bertha. But I so did love Bertha's crystal clear No, than she's all look bitch I never told you for sure I was doing that. Why are bringing up now, don't look so smug you haven't won anything. I'm not about to be your lackey. Mrs. Astor getting all huffy and leaveing she's just so pathetic omg. Mrs. Astor really thought she got the better hand of Bertha Russell with her stealing the Duke not with standing. But she simply can't Bertha far more intelligent, cunning, calculated and purely ruthless then Mrs. Astor. On flip side of that Bertha is also friendly, sweet, fun, kind and sincere. Where Mrs. Astor full of crap there's nothing sincere about her, she's all fake nice and attitude. I think she far to use to people kissing her ass and getting her way. We all know Bertha isn't going to do that. I'm so ready to see what happens at the opening night at both opera houses!!

I'm so happy for Jake! Mr. Bannister all casual oh I write my friend in German clock makers group for you. I really do like how there like a little family at the Van Rhijn house (with the exception of Armstrong). I really hope Jake gets his pattern, then goes on to be a clock maker if that's what he wants.

I don't have any idea why Marian is trying to convince herself to marry Dashiell. She's not in love with him, what she going to do wait until she's actually married to the man than be like I made mistake here. I wish she could be as brave for herself as she for everyone else. It's like this all she think she deserves is a loveless marriage at least on her side so she'll doom herself to it. Instead of being brave and looking for what deserves a love like Aunt Ada found. Which might be with one Larry Russell.

I adored the scene with Bertha and George. It's always a treat getting to see Bertha with her hair down all related in her night clothes. I really love that show has a in love married couple at core of it. It's not too much or too little, it's just right as Goldie Locks would say. They have reached the ideal balance for a loving marriage couple in a series, now all other series take note please. They are very endearing. When Bertha sat on George's lap such a romantic thing to do. I really do enjoy their scene together. Ever if their just talking. 😍

I was hoping George would end up being a good guy with his workers, treat them as human beings but so far he's still being ruthless ass. It's so hard with him, when he's with Bertha and his children I really like him, but as soon as he's all business I can't stand him. It drives me nuts.

I'm so happy to see Peggy stand her ground. But I do wonder how long that's going to go on for? Her boss doesn't even seem to give a second thought about his wife or family, just going to listen to his dick. Because let's be honest that's what he's doing. I just don't like him there's something about him the rubs me the wrong way, beyond the I'm so easily willing to cheat on my wife. I definitely feel he's done this before. Peggy might want to find out how many other babies he has around! I just get this feeling off him it's more like he wants to own Peggy untilhe gets bored then he moves on to the the next woman. I hope a really good guy comes into Peggy's life that's not married and sweeps her off her feet.

I really like what Larry did with his speech making sure that at least people in that room which did include the President know that Mrs. Roebling did the work on Brooklyn Bridge. I hope she knew that she wasn't forgotten in history. I learned about her college in my women in America history course. Now thanks to The Gilded Age so many more know her incredible story and she's come back to life in a way that makes the history even more exciting.

Oh I almost... I love when Mr. Baudin ask Mrs. Bruce if she going to watch the fireworks. I was omg the roof of the house! Because that house has to tall enough. I was happy I was correct. I thought I was so sweet he took up there so she could see them. I really like them together. I hope they become a couple. Makes me think of Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson in a way.

#the gilded age #02x07 #wonders never cease #my thoughts #the gilded age season 2 #the gilded age spoilers #bertha russell #george russell #oscar van rhijn #agnes van rhijn #marian brook #ava brook #larry russell #peggy scott #jack tga #luke forte #mrs. astor #mrs. bruce #mr. baudin

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alter-ipse · 2 months

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Day 5

My ankle still hurts. I was taught never to complain, of course– back in school, complaining made you look weak, and weakness made you look like a target. The day I had the temerity to look tired after I finished up in the gym was the day I got ambushed in the locker room. It wasn’t as if they could do much to me– we all had the same standard-issue equipment, so I had nothing worth stealing– but most of my face was a ruin of bruises for weeks. It was midway through my first year, so my schoolmasters didn’t care. If anything, it let them know that they weren’t working me hard enough. I was going to replace a hero! I was going to have to kill a hero. If she was good, I had to be better. Didn’t I know how lucky I was to have this chance? I wouldn’t want to let them down, would I? So I got extra time as a punching bag in the sparring ring, and my classmates got to see my face turn all the colours of the rainbow. Call it a bonus art lesson.

Like I say, some people took the false memories a bit too well. Picture this: you’re a shining new person, blank as a sheet of paper. You have opened your eyes for the first time, to take in the most beautiful thing you have ever seen: the face of a human. The lab fluorescents glint off their goggles and illuminate their fly-away hair. They are ethereal and animate, and you don’t know what this world is but if it has more things like this in it, you want to discover it all. And they take your hand, and they lead you out of your pod and into a chair. They slide a sort of helmet over your head, and you’re not afraid, because you don’t know how to be afraid yet. So you lean back and watch the way the lights flicker across the consoles at the back of the room, miniature moving constellations laid out just for you. You’re sure they’ll tell you why you’re here in a moment. And then something hits your brain so hard your vision judders and blurs around the edges. You feel it like a physical pain, like somebody’s dropped a rock on your head, but you can’t worry about the agony because the information is already racing through your skull, faster than you can process. And there’s so much of it. You try to cling to a thought, any thought, but they all slip through your fingers like so many grains of sand, and your head spins. And then everything goes dark, and when you wake up, all you feel is deep, primal rage. It’s the anger of a person you didn’t know existed, but at that point, what’s the difference between their rage and yours?

Or so I imagine, anyway. I blacked out halfway through the information upload, but when I woke up, the memories were fuzzy and indistinct, disappearing as soon as I tried to catch hold of them.I realised that something was meant to have happened, except, apparently, it hadn’t.

I felt exactly the same as I had before, but that was clearly the wrong way to feel. I knew that from the second the doctor came over to ask how I was, with an expectant weight to her sentences. So I smiled hesitantly, and told her that it was all a bit strange, but I thought I’d be alright soon. Thank my intuition that I was assigned someone as drippy as Alter, and not somebody with an actual backbone. For the next few hours I smiled and nodded in all the right places, and once they fitted me out with a uniform they mostly left me to it.

I still don’t feel much these days, if I’m honest. I don’t know how that works– perhaps clones can only have feelings if they’re taken from natural humans. I’ve always considered it to be one of my strengths. After all, it was something like sentimentality that moved Alter to save me, and you’ve seen how that’s working out for her. All I am is my mission: simple, clean and uncomplicated. I can live or die by the orders of my creators, and that’s the way I like it. They seem to know what they’re doing, which is more than you can say for anyone around here.

#fiction #writing #creative writing #stories #storytelling #my writing #oc #ocs #my ocs #cw violence #cw doctors #cw pain

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squishyjelly01 · 9 days

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💜THE FINAL TWO MEMBERS OF THE DINO STOMP TEAM❤️

💜CURE PTERODACTYL 💜

“The dark aura breeze of the night , purity of the midnight I am cure pterodactyl “

Meet Yusuke meioh a 21 year old university student who usually the quiet and shy one. Yusuke always being left out during projects and usually works alone till his childhood friend started her first year in the university. His favorite hobby is cosplay and while cosplaying his whole personality change so differently . He does have a fan base since his cosplays are very popular and very unique .while one his break from his fan meeting a bright purple light appear in front of him . Not knowing what was the light from something inside him told him to investigate the strange thing that happened. When looking around he found a small pale creature laying unconscious , instead of leaving it he felt bad for the small creature and took it in . Not knowing how to take care of this small creature he decided to look online so he followed instructions from a wiki how to. Soon the small creature awoken and felt her body getting back her strength she notice she was in a room full of plushies and full of clothing from Yusuke cosplays. She got up and tries to fly but no luck so she sits there looking around her surroundings . Yusuke got home and notice the creature finally woken up , he gets near the creature and pokes at it asking if she is hungry . As that he walks to his kitchen to get her food , the small creature finally speak a soft delicate tone ‘’who are you ‘’ Yusuke turns backs to see the creature talked .‘’I said who are you ?’’ As she waddles toward Yusuke . He pause and move back saying to himself it must be a dream then the small creature introduce herself as novi the princess of the midnight kingdom . She waddles more toward Yusuke and tries flying but her wings were still damaged from her fall . He quickly catch her before she fell and introduced himself . While spending time together and after being treated as a thank you gift she gives Him the stone of midnight. Novi finally said ‘’ I want you to be the precure warrior to help my kingdom from losing the midnight power’’ as that Yusuke agree and became cure pterodactyl. Not knowing that there is other cures out there he did his best to protect the princess and figure out how to send her back to her kingdom. After defeating a fossilize heart he saw a portal open and a red light coming toward him .he catches the light and a small spinosaurus lands on his hands .yusuke freak out and tries his best to treat the small dinosaur to a good state .

❤️CURE SPINOSAURUS ❤️

“The backbone of a fiery heart, the spikey flames of true love I am cure spinosaurus “

Meet Chisa tenou a 22 year old university student who started going to the same university as yusuke. Yusuke and chisa are very good friends they are childhood friends . Her appearance may seem harsh on her beautiful features she does love her goth fashion . Transferring to a new university due to her moving out of her strict family . Chisa adore being Yusuke and always protect him due to the constant bullying he suffered in the past time. While investigating her friend constant ditching her , she discover that her friend is a precure . One day while her and Yusuke were alone she finally confronted him that she knows he is cure pterodactyl. Not knowing what was gonna be his reaction she prepared herself for some lies or so on since her friend used to do that to her . His response was far different than what she expected as he confessed he is a precure .he soon explained to her how he became one and introduced her to the two fairies he was taking care of which was novi and flare (the fairy of the fire kingdom) . Chisa hugged flare right away as she fell in love with flare little blank face . Her face widen asking if Yusuke can turn into two different cure but he responds with a no and explained how it works . While explaining Chisa felt a warm object on her hand as she look down she saw flare putting the fire gem on her hand and watching it glow . With a quiet deep tone flare only said ‘’precure ‘’and cuddle next to her back . Novi ask yusuke if he sure it’s ok for her to become a precure as that yusuke said it was ok and welcome as his teammate. Chisa got excited and hugged her best friend and the duo become the best in their local area . While fighting a fossilized heart the duo notice the Dino stomp team and finally realize that they weren’t the only precure in their area. Yusuke stays back to think what to say but chisa outright talks to them and invited her and Yusuke to join into the Dino stomp team .as that welcoming the duo into the team .

#dino stomp! precure #precure fanseries #pretty cure #dinosaur #precure #drawing #dino stomp precure

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littlx-songbxrd · 2 years

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I think I might be scared of the world and the way it makes you feel afraid

*Jumps in at the last possible second of alestember to post the most horrid fan fiction I've ever written* Missed me?

Anyways this is day 3 angst for @alastair-appreciation-month I wrote today out of spite and bad ideas. I just finished this, its not edited, might be the worse writting I've ever done but its cool. This fict is dedicated to @cant-think-of-anything who is partly to blame for the ending and my friend who liked my private story when i posted hot girls spend their fridays writting patricide ily

Timeline? We dont know her. Sense? Also no. Just sit back and enjoy and maaaaayyybe dont look too much into it :)

TW. Patricide. Blood. Murder. Alcohol. Drinking (if you find any other let me know)

There was a dead body at his feet, the truth ran like a rampant beast through Alastair's every thought. His torn clothes left him kneeling against the bricks of the floor, rough surface burying itself into his bare skin. He tried to move his arm to get them away from the dripping water running through his hair and half-blinded sight, but they stubbornly remained raised where they were.

It ought to hurt, but his body didn't register it. Alastair could barely feel anything other than the crushing weight of his reality. False strength shattered as he refused to look away from his immediate view, where the body lay further into the dead-end street it had taken its last breath in.

Rain met blood on the side of the road, on the edges of his clothes, and at the tip of the stained glass, he held close. The blood it had initially been painted with wasn't his own, but he had held on to it so tight by now both mingled into the same scarlet. He attempted to stop himself from squeezing the edges so tightly, but every time the truth fell on him again he only hardened his grasp. Every reminder threatened to leave him unable to tether himself to this earth by anything except his own pain. It felt like he was watching the scene from afar rather than living it. Or perhaps it was all a dream, a vile twisted representation of his anger tormenting Alastair into insanity. The alternative seemed soothing as opposed to the truth of the evening, there wasn't anything taking him away from the situation. Miracles were low and scarce and nightmares could only last so long.

He knew today would go wrong. It was always how things ended when his father was involved. Elias's letter arrived a few weeks prior, announcing he, and he alone would be coming to Paris in a few weeks and hoped for an opportunity to see him. It all sounded harmless, most of his acquaintances rejoiced on the news he´d get to see his father upon asking who´s correspondence had come in. Alastair put all his efforts into seeming at the very least content. Pretending happiness proved quite the effort compared to the familiarity of anger, but he´d have to make do. He always did. That didn't mean in the privacy of his own room he didn't stare at the letter and ponder if burning it could make his father desist of the idea of ever coming at all. Maybe he could claim it got lost and ignore any summons until his father left France.The idea proved Alastair was slowly losing it, Elias knew exactly where he was staying. If he wanted an audience he could find him. Itd be foolish to think he could avoid him and Alastair liked to consider he wasn't as idiotic to feed into the idealism of his half-arsed plan.

By the time the days to his arrival dropped into the single digit, he began to truly feel dread. The kind he was slowly losing the ability to hide. Having Charles confront him on why he seemed so jumpy all the sudden was enough to decide he needed to get control of himself. Fear was for the weak, and he´d trained his backbone to be made of steel. Elias' letter had only requested one meeting and that's all he'd give, but he wouldn't let his father cost him the life he was finally beginning to make for himself. Alastair never replied, confirming his agreement to seeing Elias, one last desperate attempt to hold some of the control he was losing, but there was no use. On the third day of his father's visit he woke to find him waiting on the institute's door.

Part of him was glad to see he managed to make it without causing any issues Alastair needed to later fix, not enough to drown out the exhaustion brought just by the thought of spending an entire day with him, but he tried to hold on to the relief as he made his way towards him. They both greeted each other with similar weariness, nothing too obvious as to raise suspicions, but enough to remind Alastair where exactly he sat in his father's eyes. There was some attempt at an awkward embrace, he swore his limbs felt like they´d be set on fire afterward, and left without much of a word. No attempts of conversation stuck during their time together. Pleasantries out of the way, there was nothing Elias appeared to want to say to his son, which suited Alastair just fine, there was nothing he wanted to say to him either. However, it did raise the question of why he´d been so insistent to seek him out at all. To walk in silence? He kept feeling Elias stare at him from the corner of his eyes as if studying him under the Parisian sunlight. Eyes narrowed, brows pushed together, it made Alastair wonder if it been so long that Elias forgot what he looked like. Or if maybe all the alcohol he must have consumed in his absence had helped in the process.

He wasn't stupid enough to believe his mother's claims. Whenever she wrote, she tried her best to make it seem Elias had tamed the intensity of his drinking while he was away. Sona never outright wrote about the issue, that would involve acknowledging there was an issue to begin with, but he knew how to read her hidden messages. Assurances she might as well have made to the wind. Alastair assumed she felt sorry for him. Wanted to at least afford him a few more months without the burdens of his father's sickness. The gesture was appreciated, to an extent he felt touched by what his mother was trying to do. It didn't erase the fact it was too late. He already knew enough to never believe her. Yet, he wasn't sure Elias's drinking was the root of the strange way he acted today. There was something far more aware going on behind his light eyes. But Alastair was tired and wanted to get this visit over with, He kept his thoughts to himself until his father finally tired of his company.

They parted ways upon reaching the institute and Elias refused to tell Alastair where exactly he was staying. So close to finally being done with this day Alastair didn't consider asking for more details, fearing trying to coerce any information Elias didn't want to give would only cause him to invade into his life longer. He watched him leave and almost felt guilt from the relief that fell through his bones. There would be a time he needed to return into his father's hold, but today was not that day. It would be long until he worried about Elias again.

That night Alastair slept well for the first time in weeks. The last time he would in years. There was indescribable happiness flowing through him the next, a phenomenon purely driven by the absence of worry. He should have known it wouldn't last. That night as he began to finish his work and retire for what was left of the evening, someone called his name. One of the other residents of the institute stared at him through a wide grin, telling Alastair how hilarious his father's jokes were. The first thing he noticed was that his acquaintance was without a shadow of a doubt, drunk. Giggling at the sound of his own voice and a certain stumble to the steady rhythm of his feet. Alastair knew he needn't ask where he'd seen his father, but he still did. So much talk of being smarter than his desire yet he still hoped the man wouldn't reply to what he knew he would.

The bar was only a ten-minute walk. From the information he got, Elias had just recently gotten there. Still tame enough to make jokes, present himself as charming. Make people pass off his drinking as nothing outside the ordinary. Alastair refused to acknowledge the loud thump his heart gave with every step he took. He rejected thinking about this entire ordeal in its entirety. He'd just do what he always did and then forget. Pretend it never happened. Let it fade into the other thousand memories just like tonight.

The situation was worse than he expected, the effort it took to finally drag him away from the bar wasn't the one Alastair thought it'd be. Had it been the break? Did just a few months of freedom break his ability to do this? By the time he finally managed to get Elias outside he was left thinking in his sixteen years of life he hadn't suffered a night as difficult as today since he first began at ten years old. Elias was never glad to see him in this state, his image only represented one thing, leaving the bottle. But his hatred always stemmed from his separation with alcohol, not Alastair himself. Yeah, he'd scream some insults and do some damage, but Alastair knew it was never about him. For it to be he'd have to care for him more than the bottle. However, today he looked at his son with hatred indifference couldn't bring. Insults were sharper, harsher, looking for a way to tear through him.

Elias kept on shouting, and Alastair could feel his patience slowly fading. He didn't know where Elias was staying, and any attempt to get him to inform would only end in disaster. He was alone, in the middle of a foreign country, and the only person he could perhaps ask for help was the last one he'd want seeing him like this. In the middle of his spiraling thoughts, he walked them into an abandoned corridor, hoping this would give him more time to think. Come up with anything resembling a plan.

Upon moving them Elias got angrier, his struggle to free himself from Alastair's grasp stronger. He barely managed to remain tied to Elias's free wrist, a now empty bottle he refused to let go off occupying the other. When he managed to get them into the dead-end street he could no longer handle Elias, his anger took over him and began to fall into the carefully laid traps he now realized his father was setting.

Alastair couldn't have guessed how long they both stayed arguing against each other. Alastair could barely recall when he stopped insulting him and began insulting his mother. His memories were scarce and rare but he could still recall Elias saying he wasn't his son. He would never be. The shock of it all made Alastair drop his firm hold, and the next thing he knew he was pinned against a wall, Elias whispering over and over again about how much he wanted to stop it. Stop seeing his face. Coherence to his words faded the closer he got with a knife he took off his shirt pocket.

He didn't know what happened first, the knife digging into his cheek or the bottle smashing into his father's head. Suddenly his father fell to the floor, the bottle smashed into a thousand little pieces scouring around the street and the knife dropped at his feet. There were a few stains of blood. Not as big as the one pulling around his father. He bent down to pick a piece of glass, his body moving like a puppet on strings, and stared at his reflection. Who stared back at him was a killer of his own making.

It was pathetic really, all this time attempting to convince himself there were scraps of goodness within him only for this to show his true nature. Time passed and there he remained, questioning if it'd just be easier to take the glass and finish his father's job. Once the thrill expired and the full weight of his actions set in he began to bring it forward, and forward. He thinks the only thing that managed to stop him was thinking death would be too kind of a fate for him.

An invisibility rune allowed him to escape before mundanes found what he'd done. He ran through the streets of Paris to the only place he actually knew how to get to. Everyone was asleep by now, the only sounds from the city life outside of the church's walls. He swallowed in before stepping, his legs unable to stop shaking. The only reason he was here was to find a way to escape the city before his father's body was found. With his death all the debts Elias gained along his illness would be left with his family. He needed to set those right. Life do whatever it wanted with him afterward once he knew his family was taken care of.

He tried to be as careful as possible when entering, making no noise as he managed to reach his room. What he hadn't counted on was his lover awaiting on the other side.

¨Alastair where have you been? I´ve been looking-¨

Charles's entire face fell when he finally caught sight of him. Alastair probably looked like he'd been through hell. The cut on his face still burned while his hand was ruined from squeezing the glass. He could also guess there was blood all over his clothing. Alastair reached for the door and closed it shut.

¨What is going on¨ Charles demanded. When he faced him he realized for once in his life he couldn't pretend. Hide how much his life was screwed.

¨I need your help¨ he settled on replying ¨I need to get out of the city¨

¨Not until you tell me what's going on¨ the other man's voice grew impatient, weary ¨Alastair what did you do¨

At his silence he asked again, this time more demanding ¨What did you do¨

¨Something I can never come back from¨ he moved past Charles and began to clear his desk ¨I cannot, I will not speak about it. You best believe I am doing you a favor by doing so. I just need to leave. Tonight. When the truth comes out you can make some lie of why I am no longer here. Claim I escaped, claim I had decided to leave previous to the event already, you are the smartest man I know I´m sure you can come up with something¨

At that moment he felt Charles's hands turn him, forcing him to meet his eyes. With the memory of arms to his shoulders still fresh he couldn't help but flinch ¨Have you gone mad?¨

Yes, he wanted to shout. Yes, I have ¨Charles I have never asked anything of you. I am asking now. Please. Just let me do this¨

For the first time in his life, he couldn't read his lover's face. Maybe it was his panicked state, but the silence threatened to kill him as Charles pondered his options.

¨You do not have to leave tonight, I´ll help you in the morning¨ he finally said, his words low and defeated ¨But if this is truly the last night I will ever see you. Then we must not let it go to waste¨

When Charles kissed him there was nothing Alastair could do but return his advance. There was no denying his only salvation

—--

When he awoke the first thing he registered was darkness, and his inability to raise his hand. He struggled against whatever kept them held beneath him, the low light now helping to out in context his surroundings. It was the institute's sanctuary, or so he assumed based on the style of the floor the moonlight illuminated. There were also voices, they were far enough to sound disoriented but still there. He recognized one in an instant.

¨I have no idea what he´s done¨ Charles's voice said ¨ but as head of the institute, I thought it best to contact you before anything escalated¨

¨You made the right call, now do we interrogate him by the mortal sword when he awakes¨

¨No no,¨ Alastair couldn't help but notice how his voice raised its pitch ¨ the truth of his deeds will come out eventually¨

¨What do you suggest we do in the meantime ¨

¨Perhaps he could remain in the silent city, alone until we figure out how to proceed. There he can await proper punishment without causing disturbances. I think itd be best for morale to keep this issue between us. I can handle his family if it comes to it¨

¨Do you think they'd come looking?¨

¨No, that's why I am most confident in my ability to properly handle the situation¨

There was something both of them werent saying, but all three understood. They could make Alastair disappear if so they desired.

And so they did. For almost two years. Then he began hearing voices in his head, only to realize they weren't in his head at all

What a ride huh? Also theres a lot thats not explained in page because Alastair doesnt know but I want to showcase in case its confusing. So this fict is going off the Alastair Verlac theory where Alastair isnt Elias son and the reason Elias was in Paris was because he found out Alastair may not be his son. He wasnt actually gonna kill Alastair but kept seeing Sonas ex face in him so in his drunken state he wanted to stop seeing it so yeah you get the rest. Would have Elias killed him? Thats up for interpratation. Also the reason Charles didnt want Alastair going under mortal sword was because he didnt want him potentially saying anything about their relationship. This was part one to an entire alastair villain au i will never write but hey i left the window open. If you guess who the voice is you get head pat

#tlh #tsc #alastair carstairs #charles fairchild #elias carstairs

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