#and you cannot convince me that this is not exactly how she would handle this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

magistralucis · 1 year

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Had my worst confrontation with The Pigs so far, especially awful because I didn’t even intend to stumble upon this. I didn’t choose any hostile options, I was alone (I think having Kim around makes this encounter worse and longer), and I passed the check for the gun just fine... but because I hadn’t talked to the Hardie Boys yet, literally hadn’t approached them at all, my detective had no idea what to do with her afterwards. All his mangled brain could come up with was this:

Sure, Lieutenant ‘I-will-instantly-pull-a-gun-at-a-mentally-ill-old-woman’ Kitsuragi totally would. 🙄 But in his absence, I’m shattered that HDB can’t act on any other option, despite being able to conceptualize one. Logic says it right there: the locals will take care of her. It’s the right answer. In terms of video game logic, this is exactly the sort of thing that'd be a positive modifier for the Hardie Boys talk. Even if you never approached them before, it feels like it’d forward your case if you ask their help, since you have the interests of the vulnerable members of their community in mind. Even if the Hardie Boys aren’t an option, Lilienne is a short distance away, isn’t she? Couldn’t HDB ask the Washerwoman, any other local in Martinaise? If he gives anyone a heads-up, he will have delivered a minimal duty of care.

But no. None of that happens, because this scene isn’t a brownie points exercise, and HDB isn’t a reasonable authority figure. He’s deeply unwell, like The Pigs. He’s been abandoned, like The Pigs. He’s in horrible pain, clinging to the vestiges of a cop identity like her, in the desperate hopes of something real and present to hold onto. This is a man who can barely face his own reflection. Seeing The Pigs, a near doppelganger of what he is and may become, is clearly too much for him to handle. HDB can react with compassion, or he can react with threats and violence, and both threads persist through the very end of the encounter with her.

Mutually exclusive options, but both present, and both possible. They are equally valid indicators of the person HDB is, and since he’s capable of the threat at all, it’s not looking good. And this is his double he’s saying this to. We know HDB hates himself to the point of self-destruction, and didn’t/doesn’t think he can improve (’I don’t want to get better, I want to get worse’): the fact that he can think up the pieces that might help her, yet his posterior neocortex shuts him down before he can put them together, implies to me that HDB is actively refusing to believe he can help The Pigs. He’s afraid to believe. He’s beyond help, after all. Everyone told him so.

He thinks it’s true, too, so the same must go for her, yes?

It’s. It’s just. How fucking broken is HDB that he knows what must be done, but simply cannot connect himself to the idea that he ought to do it. How are we meant to bear that his immediate thought upon seeing this poor woman - this horrific, devastated mirror of himself - is that Kim will know what to do, but he does not, because he convinced himself he’s utterly helpless. ‘Cause obviously, Kim’s stabilizing him, right? Surely Kim can do the same for The Pigs, and since RAC sure as fuck doesn’t know what to do about himself, he might as well just give up if Kim’s not around. So without Kim and without the Hardie Boys, HDB will simply walk away, and never bring up this incident again. It fucking breaks my heart it can’t end any other way. There are no adjectives for this level of self-loathing.

And you know, I bet he’d have reacted similarly had he been with any other RCM officer - Jean, others in Precinct 41, whatever - because he fundamentally doesn’t exist in a system that has compassion for people like this. Note that it is Esprit de Corps, your cop sense, which pipes up first to assert that you can’t help her. ‘’’Protect’’’ and serve my fucking arse

And no, Kim doesn’t know what to do in this situation either, according to FAYDE. Unlike HDB he doesn’t even come up with the right answer, only nightmare fuel, as regular cops with regular thoughts do

oh god. oh god, kim

#disco elysium #disco elysium meta #disco elysium spoilers #harry du bois #kim kitsuragi #the pigs (disco elysium)#magistralucis plays disco elysium #long post #ask for tags #this is a harrowing scene with no good paths and this post is definitely not about the better of those paths #the reason i hadn't talked to the hardie boys yet at this point was because i was testing to see if i could do the shivers check #without having progressed with the investigation at all #i could not. there was no payoff for this and i just abandoned this woman on the boardwalk for nothing #this post is pretty damning i get that but i was just so taken aback i had to scribble it out. no pulled punches in disco elysium no sir

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artificial-sleep · 7 months

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Tapping into Denki being miserably in love -- the painful, aching kind that Ovid warned of.

At first, Kyouka is guarded, really guarded. Denki has had a crush on her for a while, but she keeps her distance, pushing him away over and over again.

She's convinced that this a game to him: that he doesn't really know what love is and he can't love her. He's a flirt, your typical boy who likes the prize of the chase more than the human being who comes with it. She's terrified of falling for him, so she rejects him continually.

Until one day she gives him a chance.

But only after she makes him swear he'll treat her right. She demands respect, and Denki seems to think her going out with him is all lighthearted and fun, giddy with the excitement. It fuels her fire.

"I'm gonna treat you like a princess, Jirou. I promise!" he says with a toothy grin, and she scowls.

"No! I am absolutely not a princess." Denki looks confused, but he can't possibly understand what it meant to be an object of affection in the Middle Ages.

He can't possibly imagine what it means to be a woman now. It means to be just that: an object, a possession. It makes her skin crawl with uneasiness. She wants to be loved, not made into doll.

"I'm a human being. Not just a silly little girl. And I'm no treasure or princess or pet because I cannot be owned. I can only be loved."

Denki doesn't get it. Of course he doesn't. And he stupidly blurts out, "I do love y-" to which Kyouka plugs her ears immediately to keep the poisoned words out of her head.

"No, you don't," she demands, "You can't because you don't even know me. If you want to love me, then you have to know me."

So Denki accepts the challenge. And Kyouka stays carefully guarded along the way, not giving more to him than he can handle.

She withholds the first kiss for a long time and any private encounters for that matter.

They meet in public spaces and they talk. And Denki slowly knows Kyouka, and the fleeting flittering his stomach used to do when he saw her has progressed into a monster.

He feels like he might be swallowed whole by the sensation of how Kyouka makes him feel until he's a stumbling idiot. Until it's not funny or cute anymore and the love he feels for her is so overwhelming it might rip him apart.

Only then does she allow him true access, a deeper, truer love until he's spilling over hopelessly, crying on her doorstep in the middle of the night because he's so miserably, awfully, terribly, dreadfully in love that he'll die if he can't be with her.

"Kyouka, I love you. I swear, I love you. I can't get enough of you. I think about you all the time. Everything I do, I think if it would make you happy. I- I can't imagine going a day without you, and I can't even picture a future without you in it. I-I love you.

I love you just like you taught me I would. And I love you for exactly who you are as you are now."

It's like a dam breaks, Kyouka's careful composure quickly reduced to crumbs. She's sobbing, holding him impossibly closer, chanting pleas of her unrequited love.

And this is... This is the love she was worried about.

And now she had taught the man she loves how to harvest it and admonish her in it, and all she can do is let it wreck her now until they're both hopeless, lovesick fools.

- E N D -

Hi I needed this to restore my faith in heteroromance (it didn't work I still think it's a hoax lol) but like yeah sometimes love fucking HURTS AGHH so if you want love to hurt here's my Playlist for this one:

Just the Same - Bruno Major

Oh Comely - Neutral Milk Hotel

It Will Rain - Bruno Mars and also If I Knew

And Work Song - Hozier but also all of Hozier because he has a gift for writing about painful love his songs just hurt so good and hit every damn time

Okay thank you have a good day

#kamijirou #denki kaminari #jirou kyouka #kaminari x jirou #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #romantic

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cleolinda · 1 year

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So let me tell you why I didn't post the Varney recap as usual last Friday:

For one, I was genuinely Going Through It on a chronic physical health level. But I was also writing the recap and I slowly went... wait... this is Problematic. And of course if it is, it's my job to address that. Y'all are all very intelligent people, and if I let something that obvious go, you're going to wonder how I didn't see it. It's why the first recap got rewritten in a very different tone: you would have been like, why tf is she being so flippant about this?

And of course, when Ye Olde Literature is problematic, the whole point of writing commentary like this is to tell you why it was, what was the historical context, why did people think this way, and let's point out how people still think that way, if applicable. And if I make it entertaining so that you keep reading, that's great, but why are we bothering if we're not going to actually talk about things?

So, in this case, I'm faced with (in the text) a bunch of mental health ableism with bonus implied racism, and I just went... we are going to do this. But we are not doing it this week. My blood pressure is in a bad place, I'm in a lot of physical pain, I Cannot. I will Be Able To, but not the third week of April, 2023.

It was important to me to take that week off, unexpected or not, but also stay with the recaps, no matter how long it took me to iron out exactly what I wanted to say in the most considerate way possible, because I have a tendency to hit some bump in the road and never return to a project. I never remember why I got derailed (or derailed myself). But with this particular recap, I started to see how it used to happen: some combination of "I am physically/mentally not well," maybe "some external crisis is happening IRL," and then "the topic got difficult in a way I didn't know how to handle." And because I have alexithymia (inability to recognize/describe emotions to whatever degree), I didn't always understand that this was happening, so I didn't know how to work through it.

It's one thing to say "I need an extra week to deal with this topic," is what I'm trying to teach myself: how to work through challenge and stress, but hang in there. And the reason I'm telling you all this is because I am convinced that I have not had one single unique experience in my life, and that describing this process will resonate in some helpful way with someone else.

Anyway, that's how I was able to write, like, a novel on the subject of patchouli in perfume but not a recap: I was mulling over Victorian bigotry. Yay. Varney is now up. I'm desperately hoping that I did it okay.

#me for some reason #odds and ends

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medtech-mara · 7 months

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🖊 + Jack Adams, please :)

Ohhhhhh!!! Ya know I had to 🏃🏽‍♀️ !!!! and answer this

Gush? About Jack Adams? I thought you’d never ask!!!!

Well, let’s start with some facts about me making him. but first.. click for song will set the tone.

He’s my first ever real male OC.

He was never meant to be a love interest

Never meant to be Jayce Adams brother (old legacy gta5 rp character of my husbands) I threw it out as a joke weeks before the campaign started to make Mara’s life hell. He decided to do just that. I didn’t know til he was introduced naturally in the story.

I don’t actually remember what his first first name was.. and he was White.

Though Jack is my original character, I surrendered him to the DM.

I collabed with @cyberneutral to make Jack’s preset. (They make legendary male Vs imo) He has been edited along the way, but the Orignal is still very much present and I cannot be THANKFUL enough for them to bringing my dreamy Jack to life, exactly as i had pictured... I know what i had asked for was extremely difficult but they did it. *smooches picture of jack* I'm sure they are sick of me tagging them about it. I hope this will be the last... UNLESS🖤🖤🖤???

Jack Sergio Adams, is a 33 years old, grew up in a normal middle class household for the most part, except for the fact his best friend practically living with his family, who had accepted her as one of their own, a daughter they never had.

The story of Jack Adams in the canon story is a tragic one, I will only touch the canon story a little, but I will GUSH about him in the AU: Water on Mars (keep and eye out on the TAG!).

Jack, had followed Mara everywhere, they joined Med school together, joined trauma team together, killed the same man and subsequently fired together, saved from murder charges from Marco Guerrero and Jayce Adams standing on TTI and NCPD... you guessed it.. together. So, after months of grinding at Meatwagon, Jack gets the idea that they should set up a clinic in the Wellsprings, to give back to the community, to atone for their sins on trauma team. (not killing that guy tho, he deserved what he got.) The two worked their asses to the bone, taking every extra shift they could and coverage to make it happen. After 2 years since the Clinic opened its doors, the rhythm of life has started to slow down, and the time started to look right, He just needed to find the words to say to Mars. He never got the chance, as when Mara started seeing this Rockerboy J I H Z Z Y, who he was convinced wasn't going to last long. WRONG. However Jack would never see how wrong he was, as he tragically was killed by Maxtac's C-SWAT team after hearing from Mara everything that had been going on her life. The Killswitch.... He asked her if things could go back to normal once the killswitch was removed, but when she admitted that she had agreed with his twin brother Jayce, that when the killswitch is removed, she is to report for duty at Maxtac, becoming a C-SWAT member. This caused Jack, who was at this point mostly cyberware from the city center attack, he couldn't handle that much put on him at once, which caused him to slip into cyberpsychosis. Murdered in front of Mara before she could tell him she loved him and was throwing everything away to keep him on this side of sanity, he met his tragic end. His song for this campaign: Here

Okay. I know thats more than I had promised about canon, but I promised there was A LOT MORE you need to know. But I wanna gush about AU Jack!!!

Much like the same in canon, except, Mara starts seeing this Space Corpo named Titus Atredies, 6'5, Body swapped. Jack, knew he stood no chance against that, but when things didn't work out and Mara broke things off, Jack knew he wasn't going to let this chance slip. He started working out again, dusting off his combat experience and joined the merc world, all without saying a word to Mara, he has to protect her. (Canon Jack makes the same decision much later and never tells Mara but by then Mara was so far ahead he couldn't catch up) One night, Mara and Jack had plans to head out to Tios (The unoffical name of the bar next to Mara's place. He is everyones uncle who frequents the bar, which, ya know my girl does... alcohoilc) when on Mara's run home, she called and said she had a gig to save some girls kidnapped. Though, a part of him was disappointed, however, he knew this was Mara's calling. She'd do whatever it took to keep another girl ending up like her childhood friend Jennifer Costa (You can read what happened here). However, Jack found it extremely odd, that later that night he didn't even get a zchat saying she was off the gig. Even stranger, she didn't show up for work, no one saw her for her run. She was.... Just gone? That doesn't make sense though. Mara would never just disappear without a word, something terrible had to have happened. Something terrible indeed... See, Mara had gotten off that gig, and on her way home, taking N-CART. Militech shoved her onto the track electrocuting her, causing her to pass out and her kiroshi's to pop. When she woke though, she was unable to see, and calling out for a nurse proved to be fruitless, because when she did get a response, it was from a Maelstrom booster informing her of her predicament. Luckily for her though, They had found a frequent flyer card for AV travel under the name of Titus Atredies, which meant they knew they had struck gold. They would be holding her for Ransom until Titus or someone named Jack Adams could pay for her release. After hours though, no one showed, which meant they needed to move locations to ensure that NCPD wouldn't be showing up. Loading her up in a van, they started to transport her from Santo to NID, where the boosters began to Jones for their next high. Mara, had been sending out pings to Jago, as he lived in Kabuki and she knew they were taking her to Totentanz and then to All foods factory in their pursuit of Black Lace.

When at All foods plant, the driver had come back and still no Jago.. Mara convinced no one was going to save her, she'd rather have a bullet to the back of her skull than to find out whatever plans these sick fucks had in mind, prepared to run, as they didn't think to strap her down. Suddenly theres two taps on the driverside glass, and before the Maelstromers would even say anything, there was shot after shot into the driver and passenger, which cause Mara to scream from being startled and begging for help. When suddenly, she hears Jack's voice call out to her.... He'd saved her. Though, Jack did have trouble getting started at a Merc, his first group being slaughtered on their first gig together, doesn't look good on a Medtech merc that can't keep his team alive, so he was dropped by his fixer. When Mara decides, why not. Night Raid is about to disband no gigs coming in from them and all the ones she's been doing has one she's fixed for herself. So why not add Jack to the team? She'd watched him stand toe to toe with someone with Mantis blades and still on this side of the earth. He was far more capable than Mara had anticipated, as he had started making his own toxins and drugs to use during combat. Which, He did decide to make a cologne on one, just anyone down wind of him would become frightful and have mild hallucinations.

pictured: Tios bar

Okay... You asked me to GUSH ABOUT HIM. So I have... but thats only the tip of the Iceberg. Jack is finding his own and more confident everyday, I know it seems like He revolves around Mara but CONSIDER THIS! He lived in the shadow of his fraternal twin, Jayce, and constantly having to keep an eye out on the road ahead, because as long as Mara is behind the wheel, they are doomed for some kinda mess.

I honestly never thought that Mara and Jack would EVER get together like never ever. The fear of losing the closest thing shes ever had to a family is a risk she wasn't willing to make until... Well a bit of wine, a homecooked meal made by jack, and the dice saying its happening. It was almost like all they had to do was just get that tension out of the air for them to see that they were meant to be. Now if only Jago would stay out of the picture...

I will understand if you never ask me anything ever again.... but please ask me more xD

#Ask Box #Ask me things #My OC: Jack “DreadMed” Adams #Cyberpunk Red #Cyberpunk Red Campaign #Water on Mars

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pinkiepiebones · 7 months

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Pins and Needles

You barely feel a thing. (Written for the prompt "claws and fangs")

The familiar is a curious creature. It is, at it's core, no longer a mere human, but neither is it one one millionth as wondrous as it's master. The familiar is a tool, a lowly worm pulled from the black muck and touched with a drop of a god's might. It is something removed from the world of the living yet not entirely a part of the world of the dead. The familiar has no place upon the great branches and spanning tendrils of family tree of life on Earth. Additionally, not all familiars survive the conversion process. To have a spirit- or a soul, or whatever ineffable force that animates a body- so drastically blackened and changed by power, well, many a mortal form simply cannot handle it.

Dracula has seen a familiar's body and mind fail. The first one he tried to turn... Well, he had been a vampire a mere decade, and there wasn't exactly a "how to" manual installed in his brain upon his conversion. The first familiar had gone wildly mad from the telepathic connection to Dracula's mind. He bashed his skull against the rocks until there was no skull left. A century passed before Dracula tried again, enthralling a young peasant woman with honey-sweet blood. Her mind survived the process of becoming a familiar, but something happened within her body; her heart exploded inside her chest the first time she tapped into her power. Seventy years after that one, Dracula tried a strong and sturdy young man. That one's muscles liquified inside the skin. He would never admit it, but Dracula was a little embarrassed at how fucked up that one had gone.

And now, there is Renfield. Poor, sweet, greedy, stupid, moon-eyed, soft-lipped, soft-skinned, pathetic, shame-filled Renfield. Dracula had long since learned that he needed to have a potential familiar join him in his life as a valet or a bodyguard before he decided if it could be turned. Renfield hesitated, at first, mumbling something about a wife and child, but Dracula needed only exert the tiniest force of will to convince Renfield to be his assistant.

Renfield was perpetually soaked in self-loathing and confusion and jealousy. It made his blood feel thick and oily in Dracula's mouth. The vampire fed from his assistant when he was in deep sleep, when the societal and religious walls shrank back and the man's mind was free. Renfield wanted freedom. And riches, of course, but really, you'd have to be mad to not want enough wealth to live decently. After months of high society mingling and travels, Dracula made Renfield his familiar. By that time in his vampiric life, Dracula thought there should be some ceremony involved, so, one chilly night in front of the fire in the castle, Dracula swirled a dark red drink in a brandy glass and told Robert his intention to 'promote' him from assistant to familiar.

"I'm not sure what that means, sir."

"It means you will stay with me. Forever. A lifelong assistant position, and then some."

"O-oh. Um. That's an awfully long time, isn't it?"

Dracula explained that Renfield would be granted knowledge far beyond that of mere mortals, like the knowledge that Dracula was a vampire.

"Th-that's why, when we first met, you poured my drink, and I asked 'aren't you having some,' and you said you never drink wine, isn't it? You never ate or drank wherever we went... And that's what's in your glass right now?"

Renfield could not fathom being with anyone 'forever.' But in that moment, he could not fathom his life without the Count in it. There was a dangerous thrill tickling the back of his brain.

"Okay," he said finally, quietly.

Dracula emptied his glass and grinned, the glow of the fire making his eyes as red as his teeth. "You have to say it all, Renfield."

He flicked his empty hand, gesturing for Robert to kneel before him.

"I, what do I-"

Dracula chuckled. "Repeat after me. 'I, Robert Montague Renfield'..."

"I, Robert Montague Renfield..."

"'Will be your familiar'..."

"...will be your familiar..."

"'Forever and always.'"

"F-forever and... always."

Dracula tore open his wrist and bled into his brandy glass. He gestured and Renfield took the glass.

"Drink of my blood, and become more."

Renfield brought the glass to his lips with shaking hands and drank the black blood. Dracula watched those beautiful blue eyes go wide. The pupils dialated. His eyes rolled back in terrible ecstasy. He gasped as if waking from a long deep sleep.

The glass clattered to the floor and Renfield placed his hands on Dracula's knees. He pushed himself up and pressed a kiss to Dracula's lips.

"Forever and always, I am yours."

And he survived.

Over the months Renfield learned as he watched his Master. Renfield learned, for example, that a vampire's teeth are all quite sharp, nothing flat or made for crushing and chewing like a human's teeth. A vampire's fangs extend when the vampire is feeding or when it needs to visually threaten. A vampire's teeth can dislodge in a human's skin and there are the tiniest serrations along the edges which cause the teeth to become embedded, quite painfully, into flesh. This fact Renfield learned when Master lashed out and bit him for the first time. A tooth and a fang stayed in Renfield's forearm muscle. Because of the healing properties within vampire blood, the wounds were already closing up; it would take Renfield hours to pull the teeth out of his arm. Master sneered at him as new teeth emerged from his bleeding gums.

Renfield giggled and eagerly started scratching at his healed skin, excited to pull Master's gifts from his muscle tissue.

Renfield also learned that Master's nails are unlike the flimsy, chewable nails a human hand has. Master's are more like claws, they grow thick and pointed because Master is a predator that uses claw and fang to subdue prey.

One early night Master sat in his chair, drinking blood from a wine glass. and Renfield sat on the floor beside him, staring at Master's unoccupied hand, admiring those claws.

Dracula raised an eyebrow and moved his free hand; Renfield's wide eyes followed.

Dracula smirked.

"Servant," he purred, "what has captivated you so?"

"You, Master," Renfield sighed, "as always. But, more specifically, your claws, Master."

"Ooh, really?"

Renfield nodded and wiped some drool from his chin with his wrinkled sleeve. "They are so shiny, and sharp, and-" Renfield averted his gaze.

"No, no. Speak, Renfield."

Renfield shivered. "I- you've left your teeth in me before, Master, and I have been wondering if your claws work in the same way?"

Dracula fought the urge to grin. "How so?"

Renfield was blushing now, and picking at the skin around his chewed-up nails. "D-do your claws shed as your fangs do? And regrow just as quickly?"

Dracula stood and Renfield whimpered.

"Let's find out, shall we, my pet?"

#robbie don't look #renfield #dracfield #dracfield week

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addersaesthetics · 9 days

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sometimes you prepare for something in therapy, it just does not matter and you will not obtain a fulfilling resolution to the thing you prepared for

I talked to my therapist for months about this trip to Cali to see my sister. We prepped and talked for multiple sessions about what could go wrong and how I should try to handle it. Lo and behold, something went wrong and I used those coping skills, but it doesn’t matter because I was always operating on the assumption that my sister would give a damn about the way she treats me.

None of those “I feel” or “When you do this is makes me feel like x” statements mattered, because what I was feeling was “wrong” and it was my fault for “interpreting it” that way.

I cannot stress enough how many times she has been told her tone sucks, she uses her words to drown out opposition and steamroll peoples feelings. It’s not just a reoccuring theme, its been dozens of times.

My sister has not actually ever apologized to me for anything in her life, ever. I know she does not actually mean her apologies because she basically told me that she’ll say it but she doesn’t think she’s wrong. To illustrate how bad it has been she screamed at me when I told her I was suicidal, but the ACTUAL problem was that I hadn’t told her.

I also found out, again, my mom has interfered and asked my sister to ask me about my migraines. The way she “asked” was “are you sure you are actually having migraines and not just headaches because you are saying you get them often but when I get migraines I’m so debilitated that I can’t do anything.” When I explained that made me feel like she was questioning if I even had migraines she said “I was asking a question in a conversation and I do not feel like my tone was anything more than conversational”

She said what is actually happening is that I “don’t know how to deal with people disagreeing with me and that she’s allowed to have different opinions than me” and when I stressed that it wasn’t the disagreement it was the tone. She said “but you are saying that I have a disagreeable tone so that means you actually have a problem with me disagreeing”

I’m also so fucking tired of being the only one who works or adjusts my behavior. I’m tired of people asking me absolutely batshit things like “how does it make you FEEL when she calls you transphobic, or racist” because 1) she doesn’t care how I feel otherwise she tries to throw a hurtful bomb into any discussion to just end it 2) how exactly do you argue with someone who is convinced you’re xyz when you aren’t? You can’t. She literally called me transphobic in the past for identifying as bisexual

Oh and me saying “I have felt like I have been walking on eggshells this entire trip because your tone has been atrocious to me and I feel like I can’t be part of a conversation unless I’m agreeing with you” doesn’t actually matter because “well do you see how you saying that I’m being difficult when I’m not makes ME feel bad?” Because clearly, my feelings have never, ever been part of the equation in this relationship ever.

It makes me so fucking insane and sometimes i ask myself now why I’m so mentally ill and then shit like this happens and i understand

No one ever cared that my sister bullied me, what mattered is that she doesn’t start screaming and making everyone miserable because she cannot possibly be wrong

The only thing that matters is making Taylor happy and if she isn’t then you must sacrifice whatever you have to in order to fix the problem.

It doesn’t matter that when i point out how they have been upset when she treats my mom or dad like this but when it’s me we both are “equally culpable” because they don’t want to “choose a side”

Oh also? She and her husband have been apparently talking about how they think I have autism behind my back. Because you know she didn’t believe me when I told her I was diagnosed with depression so in her mind I am Autistic because she said so.

#i hate it here i hate it here i hate it here #text #vent #sometimes its just no use

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waheelawhisperer · 1 year

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Stuff I dig about your OC's TA jaunt excerpt, in no particular order: (1) good range of third-person perspectives/voices; (2) the Mower Incident; (3) Biff-er, Cardin's crap not going unnoticed; (4) Blake getting a bit back WRT Weiss' Company Heir screeds; (5) Fei also a bit put on-the-spot by the Doc. Finally, put my vote down for a full-bore school supply duel (papercut aura slashes? dual-wield staple gunplay? Protractor fencing?).

Aw, thank you! I appreciate the compliments!

(1) This chapter takes place relatively early in the story (iirc the scene's in chapter 10 and I've written about 105 overall), so one of my priorities here was establishing the distinct character voices. Yang is different from Ruby who is different from Blake who is different from Weiss who is different from -

and I wanted both their internal narration and external dialogue to both reflect that and remain consistent with what we know of how they speak and think and act and feel in the show. If I can't imagine a character saying a line with the actual voice and inflection and word choice they use in the show, I'll scrap it or rework it until I can.

(2) Yang and Ruby are both accomplished engineers and habitual troublemakers, you cannot convince me they didn't test out their newfound knowledge and skills on the most readily-available household appliances, much to their father's chagrin. You also can't convince me that Qrow did not encourage them enthusiastically, partly because he wants to be the cool uncle, partly because he genuinely enjoys seeing them be happy and learn, and partly because he wants to antagonize Tai.

(3) That was important because Cardin's crap doesn't exactly go unnoticed in canon proper either. The main characters think his behavior is deplorable, but they don't really step in to stop it, and neither do the staff. The explanation this fic posits for that is, essentially, that this is a Huntsman Academy, and thus that anyone who can't defend themselves and is too proud to ask for help had better find a way to deal with that in a relatively safe environment before they go out into the field. Huntsmen need to be strong, good at working with others, or both, and there's no room on the battlefield for stubborn pride. Better to let them learn this lesson now than when lives are at stake.

(4) Yeah, so, like, I've been pretty vocal about my disappointment in the way Weiss's racism and Blake's racial activism have been handled in canon, so one of my goals with his story was to remember that these are, in fact, elements of their characters that exist for more than two episodes and would logically cause friction between them, especially early on before they were able to bond and reach an understanding and Weiss started putting in the effort to change and be better. I wanted that change to be more gradual in this story than it was in the show, with Weiss acknowledging that she's trying her best and still making mistakes (and not even recognizing some of the mistakes she's making) and Blake acknowledging that Weiss means well and is making the effort but still messes up and needs correction, rather than the very... abrupt... transition Weiss makes from "racist" to "not racist".

Also, Atlas sucks and Blake deserves the chance to clap back at it, because she sure as hell didn't get the opportunity when the narrative actually traveled there

(5) That was actually Ozpin's idea. I looked at his entry on the wiki and apparently he likes introducing chaos and studying the significance of people's choices (iirc we got this information from the CFVY books I haven't read), so I figured things were getting a little too easy for Feilan and had Ozpin ask Oobleck to shake things up a bit. This was also meant to show that while he's not, like, fully prepared to be a leader or a mentor at this (early) stage of his development, he does have the innate ability to think quickly and respond to changing circumstances.

Also yeah I feel like someone should get to stab Cardin with a pen John Wick style but I have plans for him so he gets to live another day

Thank you once again for the feedback!

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storm-and-starlight · 10 months

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things I am Not Enjoying about RotB:

the dialogue: either they're going for this really stilted trying-for-epic register and failing miserably, or all the dialogue feels ever-so-slightly to the left of normal, and either way it makes me wince

character choices: Mirage is a fun character, would have loved it if they made him Jazz, still pretty cool but there's a lot of moments where it's just not working for me. Also the intern girl's (still don't know her name at the point I'm writing this) freaking out about losing her job when she breaks the statue holding the key just... didn't work for me as a character choice in general.

plot: why did they open with Unicron? You can't go bigger than that, not really, and I feel like Unicron deserves way more buildup than just seeing him in the opening shots of the movie

the music just. isn't my thing. where's the intensity?

why doesn't Bumblebee talk in song clips anymore? I miss that, and I feel like it works better than random voice clips.

why did Elena not get named until fifty minutes in?

They should not have called that character Wheeljack. That should have been an OC. Mirage gets away with it because he's not very well known but like. not Wheeljack.

Things I AM enjoying about RotB

the scene where Mirage tries to convince Noah to steal the transwarp key from the museum

both the direction-swap transformation and the fact that he can turn into a bunch of different styles of cars

STRATOSPHERE (yes the character feels cliche but also GIANT SCOTTISH PLANE)

Airazor is very cool

Okay I really do like that Primal says they cannot claim credit for human ingenuity, that's a really good take on the whole "there have been aliens on Earth for millennia" thing

Random things

The Optimus characterization is certainly... different? I wouldn't say it's bad, but it's a pretty far swing from how he's usually portrayed. (I'm not particularly enjoying it, but that's not really relevant to whether or not it's badly handled)

OVERALL: not horrible, and certainly not the incoherent mess of other tf films, but I'm very glad I didn't see it in theaters and it's overall just kind of... predictable and cliche? exactly 2.5/5 stars, but like. keep in mind just how low the bar is for tf films

#I also have a lot of opinions on individual characterization but they're kind of all just My Fandom Preference #which is completely irrelevant here

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the-chosen-fanfiction · 1 year

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Gentile. | Chapter 14

Joanna finds out about your affair. Something special arrives for you.

Chapter list

Over seven weeks, nearly two months, go by without any news from Capernaum - not from Quintus, nor from Atticus. The first of the two you had expected it from, but the fact that you haven’t received a message from your secret lover in such a long time stings.

The days start to grow dull despite your blooming friendship with Joanna. Every other day, you spend time with her in either the gardens or one of your rooms. You sometimes catch her reading parts from your journal when she thinks you aren’t looking and are both flattered and troubled by it, for the danger remains that she will realise that the confessions of love are not directed towards the man you’ve married.

One day, when Joanna invites you to go to the bathhouse with her, you agree under the condition that you can wear a sleeveless robe, which she understands. You’re not used to people seeing you fully naked and don’t intend on changing that any time soon.

You stand in front of the mirror, tugging and pulling at the opaque yet thin drape you’ve pulled around your body in order to hide all the bits of skin you’d be uncomfortable with showing. With a few pins here and there, you hold it into place and tuck your hair up into a neat braid, fixing it to the back of your head to prevent it from becoming too wet.

Whilst smoothing your hands down your body for a final check, you suddenly flinch at an uncomfortable jolt shunting through your chest. You grit your teeth and frown deeply, bringing your hands back up to poke and feel around a bit. For some reason, the area is extremely sensitive in a negative way and worry settles in your gut.

Perhaps that you’re lacking certain important nutrients now that you’ve been eating very different things than you’re accustomed to, or that your body cannot quite handle it properly. Whatever it might be, you aren’t exactly knowledgeable when it comes to dietary needs, so you shake it off in the hopes the soreness will decrease soon.

A knock on the door pulls you from your thoughts. “Coming!” you call out to Joanna, who is waiting for you patiently. You slip your feet into your sandals and head over to her with an extra stole wrapped around your shoulders, meeting her in the hallway.

“Ready to go?” You nod and smile.

“Yes,” you tell her, “I must say that I haven’t ever gone to a bathhouse before.”

“Not even back in Rome?” You’ve told her about your life before Capernaum. You give a small shake of your head and smile.

“It just makes me a little uncomfortable to go there by myself, I suppose. With a friend, it might be different.”

“You’ve got a sister-in-law, no? Perhaps she would like to go.”

Shrugging, you follow her downstairs. “I’m not sure. She is very busy with my niece.”

The air is humid in this part of the palace and you find yourself short of breath immediately. You squint through the slight fog that hangs around and take a towel from the outstretched arms of a servant.

Joanna starts to undress as do you, putting your belongings on the side of the pool. She has no trouble letting herself sink into the water, but you dip in an apprehensive toe to get acclimated to the temperature.

The material of your garb flows around you when you step down the small flight of stairs, the hot water almost scorching off your skin. Joanna smiles at you, cheeks already flushed from the heat, and puts her arms on the side of the pool to support herself and float a little. You swim over next to her and sigh deeply, for the sensation is indeed relaxing.

“When you get back to Capernaum,” Joanna muses, “You definitely should convince your husband to get you one of these. They come in smaller sizes and seeing that he’s sent you here , I’m certain that he won’t be shy about the cost.

A bitter comment crawls up your throat about how you don’t care about Quintus’ money, but she means well, so you swallow it. “Perhaps,” you instead breathe, exhaling and resting the back of your head against the side of the pool. You close your eyes and enjoy the momentary weightlessness. “I must admit that this is very nice.”

She smiles and looks at you. “We could get a massage or pop into the steam room for a bit. It will do wonders for your skin.”

You hum, which is no true answer to her proposal, and allow your mind to wander to Atticus. For all you knew, he was dead in a ditch somewhere. Immediate guilt tugged at your heart for letting yourself unwind at all in these uncertain times, despite the Cohortes’ insistence that you’d enjoy your stay here.

A servant asks if she needs to wash you, but you refuse. Someone whistles her over from the other bathhouse area, where you know the men’s section to be. Your stomach twists at the idea of her having to serve one of those creepy, leering soldiers with whatever whims they might need satisfied. Something flickers within the young woman’s eyes that you can only define as fear. Reluctantly, she moves to the door.

“Wait!” comes from your lips before you realise it, causing her to stop and look at you expectantly. “I-I don’t need a wash, but… A back massage would be nice.”

Joanna, looking at you somewhat confused, agrees with your statement. “Yes, you could help us out with that.” Her voice is inquisitive, as if she’s interested to know why you have suddenly changed your mind.

“Of course, ma’am,” the servant says, her eyes softening as she dares to relax more. The man who called her over to the other area sighs and saunters away in search of another victim. You hoist yourself out of the bath and wait for Joanna to do the same. “Follow me,” the servant says.

You go after her towards a smaller room where a few massage tables stand, a patron’s shoulders currently being kneaded with a strong-smelling oil.

“Please, get comfortable. I will fetch someone else to serve you, my lady,” she tells Joanna. She disappears, your friend immediately turning to you.

“That was… Interesting. Why did you change your mind?”

You sigh and sit down on the table, your Palla clinging to your skin. “I saw fear in her eyes,” you whisper, careful to not let the other two people in the room hear, “I felt bad to send her in there.”

She takes the other surface and gets comfortable, thinking over your words. “I… Suppose you’re right.”

“You said the other day that us women should speak up more for ourselves. How come we don’t speak up for the women who don’t have a voice?”

Joanna’s gaze darkens. “Be very careful with your words right now (Y/n). Saying things like that in a place like these can be very dangerous. I am not saying that I disagree with you, but please keep things like that to yourself whenever we’re in public, okay?”

You nod, understanding her concern, and lay down. The servant returns with at her side another woman who carries a bucket of hot stones. “My lady,” she tells you, “Please undress and lay down on your stomach.”

Despite your hesitance, at least there are no men in the room, so you peel off the damp cloth to stand more naked in front of total strangers than you’ve ever been. You attempt to lay down on top of the table so that the servant can start her work, but you wince when you lower your sore chest on the surface. “Oh, sorry,” you huff, “If you don’t mind, I’d rather lay on my back.”

“Certainly, ma’am.”

Joanna frowns. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” you truthfully say, “Just a little… Anxious, I suppose.”

She hums. “I get that. Try to relax now, alright? Enjoy the massage.”

“I’ll try,” you tell her, and even though you’re tense when the servant first starts to massage your arms and calves, you slowly ease into it.

Your head is painfully drumming the very moment the massage is over. Joanna deeply sighs, appearing way more tranquil than you.

“That was nice, don’t you think so?”

You take a dry robe the servant hands you and you take it with a soft word of gratitude, pulling it over your shoulders. “It was, but that strong scent around here makes my head ache so bad…”

“Strong scent?” Joanna queries, “It’s just a bit of lavender oil they used on you. Are you sensitive to smells?”

“I don’t know,” you reply, sniffing and flinching a bit, for it stings in your nose, “Perhaps I’m allergic to one of the ingredients, that might be it.”

“If you say you’re alright, then I believe you, but be mindful that you keep your health in mind, (Y/n). Come on, let’s head back upstairs and enjoy some wine, why don’t we?”

You agree, even though you consider skipping on the wine, and head back up to her chamber to unwind and let the heat of the air settle into your skin, which tingles pleasantly. Your cheeks are flushed when you lay down on the same chaise longue you’ve shared drinks and deep conversations on a few times now, and you hum appreciatively when Joanna puts a bowl of fresh grapes in between you.

“I’m going to quickly check for correspondence, alright?” Joanna offers after dressing up again, “You stay here to try and get that headache of yours down.”

You nod and smile at her. “Thank you.”

She heads downstairs, the heavy door falling shut behind her. You put a hand on your clammy forehead, deeply sighing. “I’m not getting ill, am I?” you whisper to yourself, a wave of nausea clawing its way up your throat. You sit up and lay a hand on your heart, which is suddenly burning inside your chest.

You’ve been exposed to a new environment and new foods lately, and you’re worried about Atticus’ wellbeing. No wonder you’re feeling agitated despite your attempts to calm down your nerves.

After swallowing a few times and taking some grapes, you manage to settle down again as the heartburn fades away. There is a moment of silence before Joanna enters through the door again without knocking, the pad of her sandals headed your way.

She tosses a small pile of letters onto her own chaise longue before reaching for you. “This arrived for you,” she says, “It’s pretty heavy.”

You open your eyes and frown at the rectangular, thick package that she hands you. “Thank you.”

“Pardon me for my nosiness, but I saw that the seal is not from your husband.”

Your eyebrows shoot up and panic builds inside your chest. “Oh?” you squeak, “I wonder who it might be from, then. Perhaps my brother.”

Of course, the engraving in the wax is familiar to you. You just hope that he hasn’t enclosed something you cannot explain to Joanna.

You rip off the paper and are met with a blue book, which you flip over in your hands to read what it says. “Romantic poetry.” you whisper, “Let’s see… A bundle of poems by different authors. Is this handmade?” Your voice wavers and Joanna looks at you with widened eyes.

“It seems like it. What’s in there?”

You flip through the pages and read a few names that catch your eye. “Catullus, Ovid, Horace.” They are names you’ve spoken about with Atticus. “There is no note attached to it.”

Joanna hums and sits down, leaning towards you. “You could track down who it is from by asking the courier.”

“I’ll look into it,” you breathe, knowing very well who it came from, hence the lack of a name. However, your eye falls on something lodged betwixt two pages - a small slip of paper, and your heart stutters in your chest.

“Is it from your secret lover?”

You nearly choke on your own saliva as you look up at her with wide blown eyes. “Beg your pardon?”

She grins. “Your secret lover.”

You can feel your neck turn red as shame spreads over your skin.

“My secret lover?” you pipe up, barely brave enough to look at her. “I don’t have a–”

“Oh, you cannot fool me, (Y/n). Whenever you speak of your husband, your gaze hardens, but when you saw that wax seal on the book I just gave you, your face spoke volumes of how that is not from him.”

“I-I said it might be from my brother!” you tried to excuse yourself, but Joanna slightly tilted her head with a knowing grin.

“I know a woman in love when I see one. Come on, who is it? Is it the Cohortes who dropped you off here two months ago?”

The silence that follows is deafening. Embarrassment burns behind your eyes and you take a sharp breath, looking at your folded hands that lay inside your lap. “I-I-I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” you whisper, even your own voice not convinced of the lie.

“(Y/n).” Joanna states seriously, sitting down across from you. She reaches over to take your hands in hers and gives you a reassuring smile. “I’ve seen the way you two looked at one another. I didn’t know either of you back then but even I as a total stranger could see that it is no ordinary friendship.”

A hot tear rolls down your cheek and you swallow the lump in your throat to no avail. “Do you-Do you hate me now? I’ve been unfaithful to my husband and have failed both him and the gods. You must reject me as your friend now!”

You bury your face in your hands to sob. “Everything is so miserable,” you wail, your shoulders shaking. Joanna shushes you softly, sitting closer to wrap you in a tight embrace, “Quintus is not a good man. Atticus he-he-he, he treats me well!” you hiccup, “And he holds me in such a high regard I’ve never experienced from a man ever before!”

The words pour out with no chance of stopping them. It’s both a relief to get it off your chest and a looming threat closing in on you - you have no idea what Joanna will say, nor what she will report to the court now that you’re admitting to your adultery, but you cannot stop confessing.

“Whenever I am with him, I feel like I’m alive. He sees me, Joanna! And-And-And I just… I just… Oh, I think I love him. ”

The words that you had never even considered saying out loud leave your tongue before you realise they had crept up on you. You put a hand on your chest and inhale heavily, trying to catch your breath.

“Calm now, (Y/n),” Joanna whispers, rubbing circles over your back gently. “I understand your point of view. A man who sends you a book full of poems he’s bundled himself is obviously someone who is very serious about you. Especially when he’s busy fighting an impending civil war.”

You give her a watery smile and rub your cheeks dry to your best ability, but more keep coming. “I’m– I’m not ashamed, about it all, and that is what makes me feel guilty. Quintus is a horrible husband, Joanna! I never chose to marry him!”

She presses her finger against her lips to have you lower the volume of your voice and she puts a hand on your arm, giving you a determined look.

“I’ve told you my husband isn’t faithful to me.” Joanna begins, “But what I see happening with you is something far more than just a simple affair out of boredom.” Your cheeks flush. “He gives you what Quintus cannot give you.”

“It’s not in my husband’s nature,” you say with a trembling bottom lip, “All I am is a vessel to carry his child.”

Joanna gives a small nod and sighs. “I wish there was a way I could help you.” she whispers, “Sadly, there isn’t anything I can do. However, I want you to know that I am here for you, alright?”

You sniffle and hug her tightly. “Thank you,” you whimper against her shoulder, “Thank you for not telling me I’m a fool for pursuing him.”

“Of course you aren’t a fool, (Y/n),” she earnestly says, “You’re just a woman in love with the right person at the wrong time. All you can do is see where it goes and try to enjoy it while it lasts. As much as it pains me to say it, you’re stuck with Quintus, unless he divorces you.”

You pull away with a deep frown on your face. “Have him divorce me… I’ve never thought about that. I-I mean I cannot do that myself, but if I keep rejecting him, he’ll have no choice but to…”

The words get stuck in your throat whilst your thoughts keep running wild.

“But my family.” you say with a whisper, “I’ll be known as the whore who refused to carry a child for one of the most prominent Praetors known to man. The name of (L/n) would be in shambles, I cannot… I cannot be that selfish. My brother is all I have, I cannot ruin him and his family due to my own stupid decisions.”

Joanna smiles a little and tucks some hair behind your ear. “Sometimes, it is alright to go against the current.”

“Not when it means being egotistical.” you say. “Only when it matters.”

“But you matter.”

You shake your head. “I don’t count. All my life, everything has been settled for me. From the very moment I was born. This should be no different.”

Your friend sighs and looks at you for a long moment of silence.

“You matter.” she repeats, “That is all I can tell you. You can make your own choices.”

But you can’t. You really, truly can’t. Your heart feels heavy inside your chest.

“I’m…” You stand and step away. “I think I’m going to bed.”

“Already? But we haven’t even had dinner yet.”

You shake your head slowly. “I’m not hungry. I ah, I need some time to myself. I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Not waiting for an answer, you run out of her room, the book you’ve received from Atticus tightly held against your stomach. Once inside your own chambers, you dare to finally take out the paper that had been tucked away between two pages, unfolding it with trembling fingers.

To (Y/n), a collection of works I’ve come across on my travels. I hope you like them as much as I do. Take care and stay safe, my Flower.

It blurs in your vision as new tears form, your upper body feeling tight with heartburn.

You can barely stand the butterflies that tear through your system, your whole form trembling with emotion. You collapse onto your bed and allow your mind to run rampant until exhaustion takes over.

Next chapter Chapter list

#the chosen x reader #the chosen #gentile #reader insert #x reader #angel studios #atticus x you #atticus x reader #the chosen atticus #atticus aemilius pulcher #atticus #quintus #quintus x you #quintus x reader

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cowardlychimera · 1 year

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post about how as above, so below fits encore au Abbi yippee!

For a thousand years, here I've laid Making company with the moon Tracing pictures on the Milky Way Finding meaning in empty tunes

About her time spent with Sunny and Omori, reading to them in white space, helping find constellations in the sky, and even playing piano in the library!

Every star twinkles in its own way A fleeting moment gone too soon And the constellations stay the same Glowing for eons with nothing to prove

The stars are all the residents of headspace. At this point it's only the first year of Sunny's isolation, so headspace hasn't changed much, if at all. Residents haven't gone missing yet. Abbi worries they won't be here forever, but tries to ignore that.

The stars are beautiful, right? I wonder how that came to be I'll only behold that sight It's all that I can bear to see

Abbi wondering how exactly this world came to be, while talking to Sunny. She starts to worry about what would happen if Sunny left, or stayed. She doesn't want her home and friends to fade away, but she knows if Sunny stayed, there would be no chance for anyone to survive. She can't stand it.

Over time, I've come to know As above, so below And the stars above all know What you've done and where you'll go

It doesn't take long for Abbi to realize that Omori is willing to do anything to keep Sunny safe when Meido and Uni don't come back. Even if it means destroying their home and leaving friends behind. The stars left behind never forget though, and the rest learn quick.

When the night begins to fade Light will cast on your charades So best watch each word you say Lest they see the light of day

Abbi knows where Sunny goes when he disappears. She knows what he sees when he's awake. He's gone to her for help for many things, after all! And of course, she knows he's trying to hide things. She's the wisest, why wouldn't she?

For a thousand years, here I've stayed Building an archive of all I know In time, memories will warp and fade But in paper, they have a home

On to the second year now! Abbi's now one of the great three, with BYC and Humphrey. She decides to look after the library, keeping Sunny's memories safe. She knows how important they are, including the bad ones. She doesn't want anything bad to happen to them!

I've watched stars appear and fade away Lost to the darkness yet unknown And the constellations slowly change A bitter memory from long ago

Many headspace residents have been left in black space by now, and Abbi couldn't do anything to help them. She hasn't forgotten Meido and Uni.

You think the stars are pretty? You know, they're nothing but lies. It hurts, but all I can see Is their impending demise.

Abbi telling Sunny the truth about headspace. She knows this world was created by him. She knows what will happen if he stays. She tries to convince him to leave while he still can, knowing full well what might happen to her home if he does. He misunderstands her.

History cries its ghastly poem "As above, so below" The night sky is all I know But it's all too soon to go

Omori getting in between her and Sunny, and having red hands drag her away to black space. She knows she won't being seeing headspace or Sunny again any time soon.

In time, memories will fade Burnt records can't be saved But, in ashes, there I lay Praying for a new escape

The library disappearing from view, banished underground. All of Abbi's hard work keeping his memories safe, ruined. Abbi is left in the abyss, where the sun can't reach. She hopes she won't be there for long, even if she knows the others don't even know where she went.

The stars tell me what they know "As above, so below" I know I've reaped what I sowed I cannot let this go

The other Something variants telling her she should've been more careful, and that her first mistake was seeing Omori as a friend. She accepts she didn't handle it well, ignoring the comment about Omori. She's desperate to be forgiven.

So my archives fade away And the stars laugh in my face How I wish that I could stay But the truth is clear as day

Time passing until Sunny's last few days in Faraway are near. Abbi's library is gone, the other Something variants consider her foolish for thinking Omori isn't a monster, and she knows the end of their world is near. There's nothing she can do now but wait for the truth to be found for the last time.

#took me a bit to type this out geez #anyways ty for asking for this :3 #Abbi my beloved #omori encore #encore au #chimera babbles

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authorautumnbanks · 4 months

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How To Tame A Sorcerer: Side Stories (14)

Main Story

Side Stories

"Mother, what is this?" Yakeru asks, pointing to the sparkling blue jewel nestled between gold trinkets and various other gems in his mother's chest box. Something about the blue jewel calls to him. Beckons him.

That's weird. He doesn't like how it tugs on him so. Something about it feels wrong. Twisted even. Like it wants to corrupt his mind.

Why would Mother have something like that?

"The Shikon Jewel," she replies, combing her long auburn hair with her claws. "Did you know our family was tasked with watching over it?"

He shakes his head and sits down at her feet, staring up at his mother. She smiles and ruffles his hair. "Is it a family heirloom?"

"Not exactly. The Shikon is something that must never be used unless the Shikon priestess herself commands it."

A priestess?

He frowns, crossing his arms. "It calls to me," he admits. His tail twitches behind him, snapping back and forth.

"Ah, because that is its nature. But only the Shikon priestess can control it."

"There are plenty of priestesses and monks around. Why doesn't one of their descendants watch over the jewel then?" They are a family of kitsune, not humans and certainly not priestesses. Why are they tasked with watching over such a thing? Surely something so dark and twisted as this jewel should be with someone pure?

His mother sighs and tilts her head towards the door. "Come in Yumi, I know you want to hear it too."

Yakeru glances back at Yumi. He didn't even hear her footsteps. She's getting better at masking her presence. He pouts and huffs. One day, he'll master that too. Can't have her besting him in everything, even if Mother says it's only natural that Yumi picks things up faster. Something along the lines of her being a female and being more mature mentally.

It's all hogwash, truly.

"Why are we taking care of something that should be a human's responsibility?" Yumi sits down with a flourish, smoothing out her kimono. "Humans are nothing but pains in the butt." She stretches out her legs that are far too lanky.

Yakeru bites his tongue, resisting the urge to tease his sister about how her so-called growth spurt is more like a growth squeak.

"Yumi!" Mother's eyes turn to slits. "Where did you get that from?"

Yumi clucks her tongue. "I'm capable of forming my own opinion. I've seen how the humans chase us away because we're demons. Why are we watching over them and taking care of them? They don't appreciate it and they just turn on us."

Mother shakes her head. "Humans fear things they cannot understand. Their lifespans are nothing but a blink of an eye compared to ours."

"But..." Yakeru starts. "Why do we look after them?" Not that he minds the humans. The village kids play with him, and they give him gifts.

"Negative emotions and fear breed curses." Mother looks off into the distance. "It was that fear that led to humans taking the jewel for themselves and making a wish."

The Shikon calls to him, but Yakeru grits his teeth and focuses on his mother's words.

"The Shikon grants wishes, but it twists them and only the true priestess can wield its power without repercussion." Mother stands and takes a seat in front of them on the fur of their ancestors. His father's fur rests on the bed, next to Mother's pillow. "Our family fell into watching over the jewel by accident. As foxes, we naturally only seek to cause mischief here and there, but never to truly harm anyone."

Yumi scoffs.

Yakeru elbows her in the side.

"Because of that, our family was selected to watch over the jewel, as we did not feel the pull as strongly as the others. Once we deny the Jewel, it leaves us alone."

"This before or after some human made a wish?" Yumi questions, picking at her claws.

Why come in here if she's going to be such a piss sport about it?

"After," Mother replies, softly. "Because the human was convinced that he could handle it. He feared us demons for our strength. And so, he made a wish that he did not anticipate."

"Did the wish kill him?" Yakeru leans forward.

"In a roundabout way, yes. He made a wish to compete with us demons. To rid the world of us and so the Shikon granted his desire to have power. For some of his fellow man to have the power to fight back. Not every demon wishes to coexist peacefully after all."

"So, what's the problem? We're still here," Yumi says with a sigh, as though the story is nothing but a bore.

"Negative emotions and fear breed curses," Mother repeats. "That human feared us demons and made a wish out of that fear. The jewel is mischievous, like us foxes. It granted the wish, but created checks and balances."

Yumi sighs and throws her hands up. "Mother, why are you talking in riddles? Was the wish granted or not?"

"Curses," Yakeru whispers. "Did the wish create curses?" His tail fluffs up. His arms shake. He feels it in his chest.

"Yes. Or rather, it modeled our demonic energy and gave humans something similar to work with. The wish was not from a...it came from a fearful space and the Shikon latched on to that negative emotion. It granted him cursed energy, and it granted others the same. Some didn't receive anything, and those that couldn't control it created something that they couldn't control."

"Again, why are we protecting humans and why do we have to watch over this stupid jewel? Sounds like it's nothing but trouble."

Yakeru frowns. The pull shimmers down until it snaps. That's why. The jewel beckons people to make a wish on it. How strong is the pull for other demons?

"We are tasked with protecting the jewel until the Shikon priestess appears. When she does, a new world will come to fruition. Only she can keep the Jewel pure and wield its power like her own. Until that day comes, this jewel is to stay protected and must never leave our hands."

"I'm not doing that," Yumi says.

"I'll do it," Yakeru says. Does Yumi not feel the sense of urgency? If one wish created such monstrous things such as curses, what other travesties might befall them? With how quickly these humans breed, it's only a matter of time before the world is overtaken by curses.

"Remember this, if you don't take anything else from this story. Negative emotions and fear breed curses. That is why we help the humans we watch over. The happier their lives are, the fewer curses there are in the world. Cursed energy may be a cheap copy of demonic energy, but enough of it can take down the strongest demons."

Yumi stands, her hands clenched into tight fists. "Sorcerers are the reason Father is not here! I refuse to look after some corrupt jewel to protect humans!" She turns and rushes out of the room.

Yakeru goes to run after her, but Mother grabs his arm. "Mother?"

"Watch over your sister. There's so much anger inside of her. Promise me, Yakeru."

He nods. "I promise." Yakeru pokes a fang out. "Mother?"

"Yes?"

"How did the jewel come to be?"

She smiles, but it's one tinged with sadness. "At the cost of many lives."

He frowns and then nods his head. The Great War then.

"Watch over your sister," Mother repeats. "I fear that anger will distort her mind and I won't always be here."

He chuckles. "Mother, what could possibly take you away?"

She doesn't answer, at least not verbally. Her watery smile is the last thing he remembers.

Yakeru glances over at the Shikon, placed in plain sight in the case. He prays that one day, the Shikon priestess will show.

***

A/N: Happy Monday! Gonna be writing all day today, and tomorrow, and the day after that, and so forth because what else am I supposed to do during a staycation? We will get another shikigami meeting. I'm sure the bunnies have a lot to say lol. And real quick, I gave Rosario Pires permission to translate the fics into Spanish on Wattpad. Just a little FYI. I appreciate you guys for looking out for me!

Have a wonderful Monday. Wishing you a productive day. Drink your water. And I will see you later this week (or later today).

#gojo satoru x kagome #gojo x kagome #crossover pairings #jujutsu kaisen x inuyasha #kagome higurashi #inuyasha fanfiction #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru #inuyasha x jujutsu kaisen

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only-lonely-lovers · 5 months

Text

08.03.2022

tags: "unwell"/dissociative during sex, humping

Bird is あ / Avvy is つ

あ：... Making me think, of, a very particular kind of mental state for Hanako, that really slow shut-down 'brooding on the roof' kind of boy. Standing behind curtains. Having entered a kind of intense cycle of feeling some sort of divine ego about something, and quickly crashing from it, surged with regret and guilt and misery. This is a Hanako that has sex sometimes and is like wtf I messed up. My whole deal. and then is like UNGHH!! but it's sex. I must have it. It is mine to have. IF the girlies want to bend over for me let them. & immediately being like -- CHIGAU. but like it CAN'T BE LIKE THAT THOUGH. and you know this. YOU KNOW WHY YOU CAN'T BE TRUSTED WITH THIS [brain intrusively replays 100 moments of just being difficult and shitty and hurting nene's feelings. and then like also side by side slinging the asylum cock]

This has all already happened and Hanako has burnt out so you get the braindead boy like floating around listlessly. Stares at the moon. but like, dutifully being sniffed out and approached by Nene at the end of the day, she finds him up there. and to Hanako she might as well have instantly manifested. what. Forgot I could be seen. [silence lingering] …….. and this is kind of awkward because Hanako is having like. such a bad day that he is nonverbal for a bit and having to real-time figure out what to… do… with this…. It's one of those moments where you've never thought about this thing that happens until someone is there to spectate. and it's like oh.

[stares around blankly. fingers threaded.] ……………………………………….. ……….. [kicks feet]

つ：i think about the festival tantrum boy sometimes…. i feel like hanako lost control here. of something. it just doesn't feel like a bit exactly bc its so. uncool. unchill

i like that nene is capable of this emotion

he doesn't typically like to be coddled…. or he refuses to experience it

あ：mnhyeahhh he's really lost a battle with himself i feel…i like when akane just says he is sulking. he is really sulking hard about the circumstance

つ：

あ：finally hanako experiencing some sort of. I CANT TAKE IT

つ：nene adjusting his little crooked hat

あ：her nee-san vibes are very good around this point. it feels like a premonition of whats to come just like, there there…

つ：hanako is pretty good at being evasive, i feel like typically until he can handle interaction... in canon when he's on the roof, i'm sure he's sortof like counting down to how long it'll likely take nene to find him, and bracing himself, getting 'it out', before that comes to pass. novel if he's so in his mindset that he can't possibly notice he won't... be 'ready' in time for being found. and not realizing how long he's BEEN moping and overwhelmed, until nene shows up

あ：myeah i think so… it's the sheer instability, internally, he can't manage events as they are happening i think. it cannot be a very convincing act of being 'Ok'…

i was just thinking… about the two of them sitting quietly, on the roof. not unlike cheek kiss moment rly. but Nene would be able to tell that something is… off… but-? Asking what's wrong, presuming he is being moody like usual and just waiting. But I think the complete lack of response is like …. [internally] is…. it something to do with me-? .-. quietly placing hand on his shoulder and rubbing. very very light touch, just her fingertips…

but, the next action, like, inscrutable-- she gets grasped. firmly. and flipped and pinned, belly to ground. and it's like whgh.h…. feeling his PELVIS? legs shuffling. behind her. beginning to hump. it's so. oh-KAY. . fjkg //

but then. the other aspect of this, is, it's not like a triumphant gotcha moment or hanako being like evil rapist voice. WHICH. she has kinda heard by now. but instead these are… weak little shoves. the ah… the ambiance, quiet huffs of breath. he dips his face to hide against her shoulder blades…. rub. seems self-soothing. erratically being bumped… scuff of shoes. hanako shuffles around to pet her hair, thread fingers through it, again it seems like, self-soothing in nature, repetitious.

I was actually thinking about, like, genuinely being so. emotionally fraught and feeling shitty, nervous, congested, backed up. that he really can't even get hard easily, kind of struggling to even get half-chubs… so the distinct sensation of… soffft flaccid cock, rubbing against through all the fabric, really distinct. rolling against. and she could feel it get a bit stiffer bit also soften again… fluctuating between this?

On hanako's end i think it actually becomes simple quickly, ahh. i solved it. mnh………… yeah……… this works………… good girl…….. ahh………..

つ：gotta get mind off of things.. want to enjoy… perhaps quietly shush if she starts to talk, pet pet

あ：but I like Nene being extremely like. mentally present. and feeling like math equations are running through her head by contrast. this is really just enough stimulation to feel mystified but not like her brains are gone

つ：still able to observe his demeanor and breathing etc…. feeling more, here, with him.. may as well be petting her hands in his and fiddling with them.

cute as a kind of…. prob unknown to hanako, but reassuring of property…. its an easy balm to think/feel: she's mine, mine….. she's mine right now…. pacifying spell

あ：yeah I was enjoying it as a sort of stake of claim, despite how leisurely the act itself. it's nice that it can still feel so much like, this is expressing 'i own you'…

the sheer comfort of how easy it is… in a funny way, he is feeling gratitude. like ohh. m'good girl…. thank god. in these trying times

つ：hypocritical to the reason for the breakdown, and yet. thats how it works. much like when bird is very upset about asking too much of me, and so, he must ask of me to comfort him

あ：such it is…………. the necessary cure the problem is you just want pleasure. that's the real root of the issue

つ：i like that a no-endgame rubbing would be able to continue as long as it must….

あ：yeah it's pleasant to think about... persisting quietly

つ：maybe eventually lowering fully to be flush with her back… nuzzling back of neck and shoulderblades. inhaling. fullyyyy compress cock against. sigh…..

あ：that's…… the kind of guy he is. it's funny objectively to be so scumbag aligned and yet so needy. ohhhhh i need my cuddles

つ：but i need them in this format.

あ：i need your attention </3

つ：ah when jenny is like [christian gray sounding annoyed] anyway, that was great.

あ：[rolls us onto our sides, so i can easily rub your pussy] </3

つ：the other soother…. rub her pussy.

あ：just let me know i have it still……………………….

つ：the cause and balm to my grief.

あ：fsr i imagine this making nene so pensive and her talking to tsukasa later like having some real girl talk. like…………………. hanako-kun……………………….. he's so indirect isn't he. but then, like, tsukasa, the enlightened one in the room [like more enlightened than both of you] able to just knowingly recount nonverbal spells like oh yes. well some days amane can't really talk much. [chewing on a pencil someone gave him]

but like goes on. oh he just grabbed you? yokkata ne. must really be getting comfortable with this all. it's good if he can just show you what he needs [nyam nyam. chew eraser]

つ：it's easier for Amane to just run off…. and stay where you can't find him!

tsukasa having simple memories of looking all around the house, worried….. i think about behind curtains schoolboy. i'm sure he's avoiding gone home TO tsukasa, won't have my breakdown around you…

あ：such a little creature…. we can only imagine how many stories tsukasa would have about that guy.

#22 #ghosties #i #chisai

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xeter-group · 1 year

Text

I really wanted to start off this blog with some interesting math posts but it looks like its a vent instead. Sorry lol

Really having a crisis lately...for context I recently graduated from maths and went into a cs industry job and I'm HATING it. Its so fucking boring. I cannot express just how boring it is. I've spent hours at a time having literally nothing to do because the people I'm meant to report to are leaving me on read when I ask for work.

Every time I bring the fact that I'm bored out of my mind to a senior I get asked if I'm asking for work. Why the fuck is it my job to beg on my knees for work? The managers in my department were all fighting each other in an introductory meeting to try and convince the new hires their teams were more fun to be on and when I get in the teams NOBODY WANTS TO FUCKING TALK TO ME about what to do. And the few people in another team who do talk to me about this don't seem to have anything interesting for me to do.

This is exactly like my parents fucking custody disputes. So much talk about wanting my time and when I actually take them up on the offer EVERYONES BUSY ALL OF A SUDDEN. Theres even the neutral third arbitration party who I go to to tell who I'd rather spend time with.

I'm not at this job so I can learn about the inane details of our organisational structure. I want to actually learn demonstrable industry relevant skills. Skills that aren't obsoloted by a choice of vendor or organisational shift. Skills that someone can verify I have by asking me to do them infront of them, not just trusting me when I say I'm an "excellent communicator who led task x". But every task I'm being asked to do is some boring database/search query/automation task at BEST and document reading/ticket answering at worst.

I tried to explain to my manager I felt I wasn't having to use my brain at all at work and he didn't seem to get it. It always seems to take multiple explanations to anyone at this place to convey what I consider as interesting. l told a higher manager about my complaints and his bright idea was to have me do a task that was 70% talking to people from different teams. I don't want to manage a project or consult stakeholders or determine project scopes or manage peoples unrealisitic expectations. I want to learn and solve problems. New problems. Technical problems. I want to be critically thinking. Is this hard to understand? Why am I having to resort to reading math textbooks in my spare time and at work to remain sane? My job should be doing that.

I've wasted so much of my life not learning because of bullshit reasons. In primary school I complained to my mother that maths class was boring because I already knew what we were learning. I wanted to skip grades. She told me to stop learning and eventually everyone else would catch up. I had to take it into my own hands to learn what I wanted to. Then high school rolled around, and I was still being bored to death. We have to learn parabolas a fourth time, I was told, because everyone else had forgotten them again. No, I couldn't not learn that again. I had to relearn all the chemistry I'd already taught myself because assessment. No, you can't skip these because it wi affect your tertiary entrance scores. I wasted so much of high school fretting about USELESS shit like criteria sheets and university entrancr scores. When I got to university I was finally free to push myself. I had a blast. And then I go into the workforce and its like primary school again.

I don't think industry has the right kind of work. I think I can only be fulfilled in academia, but academia will pull me away from my home country and idk if I can handle that. It feels stupid to say this but it all essentially boils down to one friend (I'll call her J) I met in highschool. We are in a small tight knit friendship group that has been fairly constant since highschool and honestly I can't imagine living without J. I was interested in her in highschool and sort of expected in university I'd find a load of cool new friends and sort of just...didn't? Don't get me wrong I have a load of cool acquaintances (and one friend but I'm not looking to get closer than I am already) but I never made the step to be proper friends with them. So I've just been weirdly emotionally dependent on this one person. We are just friends and its very stable, she knows how I feel. I don't need any hope of a further relationship to continue feeling how I do. I derive way too much happiness from her but literally nobody else makes me as comfortable as J does.

You'd usually say that you'll make new friends or find someone new but in the past 8 years I literally haven't found anyone else whose company I enjoy as much, and I can totally see myself going another decade without bothering to really try and look for any friends to be this close to. I don't care enough about sex or relationships to bother meeting a hundred people who I don't like just to find one person who can take up even more of my already precious time. I've long accepted that I'd rather indefinitely continue being emotionally attached to J with no chance of a relationship than bother with trying to shift to someone else. Other people suck. So I'm just going to end up being alone if I go overseas, especially since I'm going to be moving like 6+ hours timezone difference away.

I've loved learning and STEM my entire life and I've given up so much for it. I don't know if I can give up my friends for it though.

#rant #long post #venting

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