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#sorry for the vent i wrote this post at like midnight
logically-asexual · 1 year
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there. Sanders Sides as the cast of Dracula:
Logan as John (Jack) Seward, M. D. — skeptical man of science who thinks he’s all rational when he actually just has many repressed feelings.
Roman as Arthur Holmwood, Lord Godalming — he’s rich and perfect and nobility and romantic enough to get the love interest.
Patton as Lucy Westenra — sweet, caring, loved by everyone. idk.
Remus as Quincey P. Morris — listen… i don’t know. i just wanted Remus as the surprising cowboy in the english vampire novel. he likes to shoot things.
Virgil as Jonathan Harker — traumatized man who needs therapy but it’s okay because he has friends that love him. carries a knife everywhere.
Janus as Dracula — hmmm. evil. gaslight gatekeep girlboss. likes scheming even if it takes months or years for his plan to be fulfilled (or fail miserably) Virgil/Jonathan hates him and would stab him given the chance.
Bonus that i would draw if i had the patience:
Joan as Mina Harker — also loved by everyone, the actual braincell, “i am the train fiend” sounds like something joan would say, too.
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wherehave-yougone · 4 months
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TW!!!!!!!!! Violence and substances mentioned!!!!
THIS IS A VENT POST about something I went through that I've never told anyone before. I thought if i wrote it all out maybe I could work through it a little.
December 31 2022,
Me and my fiance at the time went to a new years party at our friend J's house and I invited one of my childhood friends. Everyone had been drinking and smoking w**d, but no one had gotten as drunk as my fiance.
When the countdown to midnight started we all went outside to light fireworks. My fiance was so drunk he fell off the porch twice, and had to be helped into a chair. He was angry and calling me names at this point, and he said he wanted to go home. We had gotten in some minor fights before where we threw things or pushed each other , I didn't want to escalate to that so I chose to not be in the same vehicle as my fiance.
J drove him while my friend and i followed behind in another car. They got my fiance inside and put him in bed. Everyone had left ( or so i thought).
I went to put a blanket over my fiance.. He got up and charged towards me. I calmed him down a little and he went to the bathroom, but shortly after came running out to charge at me again. He grabbed me by the wrists pushing me in no particular direction. After some struggle I pushed him onto the couch but he still had hold of my arms tightly. I was frozen with shock and fear. I kept repeating "its ok it's ok its ok" in a whisper to try to rationalize what was happening. The only other words i managed to say were "im sorry please I know its my fault" even though I didnt know what i was apologizing for. He kept trying to swing his fists and kick his legs at me for what felt like hours, but was luckily too drunk to really land any hits.
I managed to call J while still being held by my arms and told him I needed help. J responded with " just call the cops and let them take him". I didn't want him to go to jail and ruin his life... Our life. So i called his parents. They said I should "relax it cant be that bad" to which I screamed "come get your son or the cops will". They showed up 30 minutes later (they only live 10 minutes away) and didn't try to stop him at all.
Once I finally got away from him I hid in a gap between the stove and the counter. His parents let him run around trying to find me until he gave up and they got him in their car. I handed my engagement ring to his mom and she pushed it back towards me saying "just wait until tomorrow to make a decision". His parents tried to convince me to get over it multiple times until they left and took him with them.
I don't know if it was from the shock or just needing to get away, but i ran outside to the parking lot. My childhood friend had been in his truck trying to sober up before heading home, and saw me run out. After explaining what happened we went back inside to start cleaning everything that had been broken from the fight.
After putting the lamp back on the broken table with my busted pineapple clock, I fell to the floor and started sobbing. With no energy to move, i laid there in a crumpled ball all night while my friend sat next to me just listening to me cry... 11 years of tears and anger came out that night. All of the things I had held in for so long surfaced and kept pouring out uncontrollably.
Morning finally came, as my phone started ringing. "Why am I at my parents" he said in an angry tone. I explained to him what had happened ... "Bullsh*t that didn't happen, im coming home right now f*ck you dont lie to me". I begged him not to come home yet, i said I was scared and needed time. He stayed away for a week until he decided it had been long enough and once he came home he saw the bruises on my arms. they were so bad i had to wear long sleeves at work for a month.
In that month things escalated. Every time I tried to talk to him I'd end up screaming and manic but I didn't know why. He drank every day even though he promised he would go to AA and get help. He would try to convince me to stay the night with him and every time i did he would be mad I didn't want to have s*x. I just wanted to be held but that "wasn't fair to his needs".
Through all of this my friend was trying to get approved on a trailer for us to live in, and that just pushed my fiance over the edge, but I needed a break and didn't trust any of my other friends anymore to stay with them. After signing the lease my fiance would call me and yell for hours about how I was a wh*re ,and I deserved to d*e ,and how he'd str*ngle my friend and "h*ng him by his dreadlocks". Then he would switch to how he was sorry and that I shouldn't be with someone like him and that I deserved better. He would threaten to k*ll himself multiple times, he took pills so much i had to call his dad to make sure he was ok.
One day he called and said he was going to k*ll himself and sounded serious. I had my friend drive me to him as fast as possible while my fiance was screaming profanity at me over the phone the whole way. As I walked in he put a g*n to his head and said "look at what you've done". I panicked and started hitting his chest to try to get him to stop. Finally he put it down and said " sorry I'm not in my right mind" and convinced me he wouldn't do it if I stayed the night. I agreed (I'm an idiot). We laid in bed cuddling when he tried to convince me to have s*x again and got mad like usual because I didn't want to. He told me i was over reacting and that "its not like he r*ped me" so he didn't understand why i didn't want to have s*x. We ended up fighting the whole night until sunrise.
After that I didn't go back until the weekend was over. Upon entering the apartment I found condoms all over the bed, and some drawing clearly done by a girl on the kitchen table. I called him crying. He had been begging me to come back while he was f*king some other girl. The same days he said I was his soulmate and he loved me, he had another girl on our couch holding my cat, taking my home.
A few more days past and he messaged me saying that he was done. He told me I could keep the engagement ring because "he wanted his first love to always keep it", He said that he found someone and they made him happy. He said just because he's happy doesn't mean he doesn't miss me.. And that maybe other people needed us in their lives more right now.. He told me we could be friends.
August 5th 2023 came and he said that he wanted the engagement ring back and I needed to come get one last box of stuff. The box was full of my childhood pictures and all the love notes I'd written him.. Even the most recent one. I was crushed seeing him in person again. I saw his new girl through the window holding my cat in the apartment I picked out for us... I told him he had been my best friend and that I would always love him but he hurt me, to which he said "you'll get over it". This was not the man i loved for all those years.. This was a stranger. As my friend drove us back I broke down screaming and crying about how much i wanted to d*e. My friend just stayed quiet and let me get it out the whole way home.
Days turned into weeks and I was still crying. I still am and its been 124 days since I last saw him... I don't know if i cry because I miss him or if I cry because the pain he caused wont go away. I know I cry because I lost my cat, my baby. He took him after promising I could have him and I'll never be able to see his orange face ever again... This is what crushes me most, To the point that I've decided to not have children so I never have to be that attached to something or someone again.
Not even a week ago he blocked me on everything just so he could post pictures of his new girl. He hated taking pictures. He never let me post selfies of my own. I haven't made a post on regular social media in a year and I feel pathetic... I feel stupid for still feeling hurt over what he does. He promised to be my best friend no matter what, he broke every other promise so why would he keep this one..
Its been months since that incident and just now people from my friend group are reaching out to me to ask how i am. And to tell me how my ex has ghosted everyone for his new girlfriend. So since they don't have him they think they can be friends with me again. Ha! Yeah f*cking right. No one was there for me except the people i talk to now and I'm not going to let that go. They all had bad things to say about the person i live with now but couldn't be there when i needed help ? go jump off a bridge you f*cks.
No one in my old life cared. I could starve and cut and take dr*gs and they would tell me I needed to lose more weight or needed to take more dr*gs cuz I was too uptight. My ex didn't even care when I lost 40 lbs from not eating. He just told me i was stupid . He threw a hashbrown at me once and said i was ret*rded cuz it was just food and that i shouldn't be crying cuz I wanted to eat it but couldn't make myself.
Some days I see how bad my past was.. Other days im blinded by the good memories and cry because I wonder if I made the right choice. I lost my cat, my fucking baby, over all of this. I lost the person I called my soulmate and my best friend, the person i thought was going to hold my wrinkly hand when im old...the thought of losing that still makes me cry even now... and I lost my hometown because I ran away. But I have gained a lot too since leaving.
I've started dating the person i live with. He was there through it all and showed me just how amazing of a person he is. I always felt a connection but my love for my ex was always too strong to make me think of anyone else. But now I find myself becoming more attached to my new bf. I can be vulnerable. Even if he isn't the best with words or advice, he listens. He doesn't tell me to stop crying, he just holds me until i do. I didn't intend to love someone else so quickly, and i may not be fully healed but that's ok. I am building myself back up with him. And he is very patient. We have our own issues, every relationship does, but I feel like maybe i can get through this trauma a little easier when hes there. I'm afraid to ever be that connected to someone again though... I dont know if I'll ever trust someone the way i did with my ex.. I might never let myself fully love again. And that is my payment for loving someone deeper than the ocean. Guard your heart until you know the person you love will guard it for you. And treat every day like its the last you'll see your loved ones or pets.. Because for me it was. Knowing they're 30 minutes away and I'll never be able to see them again will forever be something i have to live with and work through... But it will hurt me until the day i die.
If you read all of this, i just want to say thank you. You took the time out of your day to read some strangers life story, which shows you care more than anyone in my life currently. You are awesome <3 feel free to message or follow, I follow back <3
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insomniakingdoom · 9 months
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Happy (not) Birthday Waluigi!
lI’m sorry I couldn’t keep up my promise, as usual, my days got pretty erratic. Your B-day got there way faster than expected and I got nothing done. Couldn’t even work on my own personal project(s). I know you don’t actually really care about gifts, you’re just happy when we think about you. But I do care. Very and too much. I feel bad that I didn’t got anything for you, not even a slight sketch. But, oh well, I’m still happy we got to spend time together. You’re my friend, and I’m glad to have your in my life. 
Fictionnal conversation aside, I still plan on drawing Waluigi, I’ll probably won’t be done today or ever, but I’ll work on it each time it come across my mind and I have some free time to spend. Well, I have a lot of free time, but my mind is full of stuff and it’s hard to keep up with it lol. I’ll also try posting often today, like, if there any headcanon about the purple menace that comes across my mind.
Also, remember this post? Well, I wrote some chapters for it. It’s been actually quite conforting to imagine myself living outside of the house, away of like, everything. Won’t go into detail, but let’s just say that the vibes in my family aren’t good at all. Well, mostly one perticular family member, but I’m already venting enough about them to my friends lmao. So yea, may also post some bits of it. As an hommage. Or just because I’m bored. 
edit: crap it says 12:01 am like come on, I gave myself 20 minutes to wrote this and I manage to post 1 minute late, that’s so dissapointing, brain brain faster next time >:C Edit: wait, I still have a month lol, July and Juin are just very close in term of word lol, keeping it as a pin of shame. July is Juillet in french btw. That also mean that I have a second attempt to post at midnight lol Yet another EDIT: I could have litterally put Wikipedia in french to make sure, but I got a smol brain moment lmao. Well, that’s got to show that I’m still dedicated to the character, take good care of yourself, Waluigi ♡
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freddieslater · 3 years
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Oh my gosh think about Lizzie being sad around the school post ep and bumping into Kaleb and they bond and he cheers her up
Hi!! I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get to this. For context, this was about episode 6! (I think...) BUT I WROTE A THING FOR IT!! I'll put it below a "read more"! Thank you for this idea, anon, I love it so much!! (I'm actually tempted to write a little more for it...) 🧡
Lizzie lets the smile slide from her face only when she hears MG close his door behind her. Each step away feels heavier and heavier, and she has no idea where she’s even going. Back to her room seems to be the only option she has left now, but she also really doesn’t want to be reminded that Josie has left her by seeing her side of the room with all of her stuff. 
MG doesn’t want to spend time with her. She can’t exactly blame him; did she really just expect him to be sitting there waiting for her to finally be ready for him? Of course he said no. And Hope has a new friend. One who actually makes her smile and laugh. Lizzie honestly doesn’t think she’s ever seen her so happy before. 
She takes the stairs instead, walking into the kitchen. After all, she never got her ice cream. She finds the two bowls surprisingly still there, the ice cream perfectly intact thanks to the freezing spell she placed over them. Maybe she had been hoping that MG would take her up on her offer for just a late-night talk and she could suggest ice cream, and it would be there waiting for them already. 
Now she has two bowls and only one of her. With how she’s feeling, that’s probably better. 
Grabbing a spoon from the drawer, she siphons the spell back off of one of the bowls and hops up on the counter. Then she digs in with a desolate sigh. 
“I don’t know what’s more depressing,” a voice says from the doorway, and Lizzie looks over at Kaleb, standing there and eyeing her with pity, “the fact that you’re eating ice cream alone when there’s another bowl, or the fact that you’re doing it in the kitchen, in silence, at…” he checks his watch and raises his eyebrows, “... a quarter to midnight.”
Lizzie lowers her bowl into her lap with a shrug, swallows the lump of ice cream, and shrugs, saying bleakley, “Both. You just summed up my life, so.”
Kaleb’s eyebrows hike up higher and he sucks in air through his teeth. “Yeesh. That bad?”
He walks past her to get to the fridge, presumably for a late-night blood bag. 
Lizzie scoffs and stabs her ice cream with her spoon. Then she sighs again and says, “No, it’s just… this school is a mess. We only just have enough students to even qualify as a school! We’re probably in god knows how much debt at this point, which, I kinda thought would be enough for my mom to come back and fix, you know? After all, she is headmistress, yet somehow she’s just fine letting my dad make mess after mess of this place, and—”
“And you miss Josie.”
Kaleb closes the fridge, blood-bag in hand. He sends Lizzie a small smile when she looks over at him, and she deflates, because…
“Yeah,” she breathes out as Kaleb joins her at the counter, but leans against it instead. “I really, really miss her. And I hate myself for it, because she’s probably so happy there, and this is what she wants, and she has spent years doing what I want, so… I should be able to support her on this. Shouldn’t I?”
Kaleb shrugs one shoulder. “Yeah, you should,” he says, but to her surprise he continues, “but it makes sense that you’re gonna miss her like crazy. You two have never been apart. Like… ever. So, yeah, it’s gonna suck that she’s not here, and you’re allowed to be sad about it. So long as you accept that she's gonna do it anyway."
Lizzie stares at him. She wants to be glaring — she probably would have if this was a year ago, and she’d probably throw some snarky remark at him to cover up the fact that he’s right and she’s in denial. But she can only mush her ice cream sadly because she’s not in denial anymore and nod, looking down at her lap.
“I just…” She forces out a chuckle, closing her eyes. “Ugh, and I’m doing it again!”
“Doing what?” Kaleb asks, his brow crumpling. 
“Using people as my own therapists! I did it to MG for, like, two years, and now he’s pushing me away because of it. I did it to Josie our entire lives and she left. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s why my dad prefers Hope over me, or why my mom won’t even return to the freaking country! And I’m still doing it to you! Oh my god.” She waves a hand at him. “You should go before I need to start paying you. Seriously, please.”
But Kaleb laughs. Not in a cruel, ridiculing way, but in a confused and slightly exasperated way. He doesn’t leave. Instead, he sets his blood bag down on the counter.
“You’re not using me,” he tells her. “Trust me, if I didn’t want to listen, I would’ve been out of here in a second.”
Lizzie just presses her lips together and gives a doubtful hum. It’s not fair that she keeps doing this. She just starts unloading without thinking, and people stick around because they feel bad for her. 
“Hey, we all need to vent sometimes,” Kaleb says, adopting a gentler tone when he realizes she doesn’t believe him. He gives her leg a little nudge with his elbow. “I got rejected today, if it’s any consolation, so I could use some free therapy time, too.”
Lizzie can’t help looking back over at him at that, but does at least try and put up a fight against her surprise. She fails. “Really? You were rejected? I mean, I understand MG rejecting me, but who the hell rejected you? Oh god, don’t tell me you tried with Alyssa again, I have had enough of that witch.”
It’s Kaleb’s turn for surprise but he does nothing to try and hide it. “Hold up. Rewind. MG rejected you? MG? My boy, MG, who spent all last summer talkin’ about you?”
“No need to rub it in,” Lizzie says bitterly, but there’s a small smile twitching the corners of her lips. “But come on. Fair’s fair. I’ll only tell you about my embarrassing rejection if you tell me yours.”
“So, you’ll show me yours if I show you mine?” Kaleb teases, cracking a grin. 
Lizzie rolls her eyes even as a laugh escapes her. She flicks her wrist; a drawer across the room opens and a spoon comes zooming out into her hand, the drawer closing back over. 
“Grab a spoon and take a seat, Mr. Hawkins,” she says with mock-seriousness. 
He laughs and shakes his head at her like she’s crazy — but in the good way. The kind of crazy that makes people smile so much they can’t stop until their face hurts. The kind of crazy that they want to be around because it’s fun and a little contagious and feels sorta like safety in a weird way. And the thought that he could feel any of that around her makes her feel a little less of the bad kind of crazy. 
Accepting the spoon from her, Kaleb hops up one of the stools, his leg brushing hers every time he moves. She doesn’t mind, just pushes the second bowl of ice cream across the counter and siphons the freezing spell off of it. 
“Go ahead,” she says, waving a hand at him, before digging back into her ice cream. 
“Cleo,” Kaleb says. 
Lizzie’s eyebrows raise and she hums around her mouthful of ice cream. She isn’t shocked. It was pretty obvious he had a thing for her the second he offered to try and get her to enroll at the school. And it was pretty obvious by the way she looked at him that her decision to stay was not going to be because of him.
“Maybe she just needs some time,” Lizzie suggests, shrugging. “After all, she only just got here. It’s gonna take some time to get used to this place. Maybe once she gets to know you?”
“Maybe,” Kaleb agrees, though he doesn’t sound too bothered. 
Lizzie frowns. “Or not? Do you not like her?”
“Nah, of course I like her,” Kaleb says, rolling his eyes, mushing his ice cream. Lizzie notices that he’s doing that thing where you make it smoother by mixing it a bit, the same way she does. “I just… it’s like you said. I don’t really know her, so it’s not… that big of a deal? She’s cute, and she’s interesting, and I could definitely catch some real feelings if she was into it, too. But at the same time, I’d rather just… get to know her.”
Nodding, Lizzie shrugs again. “That’s not a bad thing.” She pauses, narrowing her eyes jokingly. “So, technically you didn’t really get rejected. I should be taking that ice cream back.”
Kaleb pulls his bowl away from her with a look of offence. “How dare you try and take away my ice cream privileges. I am heartbroken!”
Lizzie arches an eyebrow. She just smiles and doesn’t argue as Kaleb smiles back, finally eating some of the ice cream. As soon as he does, he stops, making a face. 
“What — what is this?” he asks, a note of disgust in his voice. “Is this… peanut butter?”
“It’s Netflix & Chill’d!” Lizzie says. Then, when Kaleb just continues to stare in confusion, “Ben and Jerry’s? Peanut butter, pretzels, and brownie?” 
Kaleb just tilts his head and she scoffs.
“Have you never had Ben and Jerry’s before?!” she asks in disbelief. 
“Yeah! But it was, like… chocolate! You know, the one with the little chocolate fish? And, uh — the cookie dough one! You know, normal flavours. Good flavours.”
Wrinkling her nose, Lizzie says, “You qualify Phish Food as a good flavour?”
Now he’s staring at her like she’s the two-heads kind of crazy. It’s still not bad, she notes quietly, and warmly. It’s actually taking a lot of her self-control not to grin. 
“It’s chocolate and marshmallow!” Kaleb says. “How can you hate that?!”
“How can you hate peanut butter, pretzels, and brownies?” she counters. 
“Because that is way too salty!” 
“Oh, sorry, would you like a little more iron with that?”
They both pause. And then Kaleb starts laughing, and it’s like the first domino has been gently pushed as Lizzie starts laughing, too. Arguing over superior ice cream flavours at midnight is definitely better than eating them alone. 
Despite his complaints, Kaleb still loads his spoon with more ice cream and eats it as if giving it another go will change his opinion. Lizzie watches him curiously. His nose wrinkles again and she presses her lips together to hold back another laugh — a giggle — because seeing him trying to act like it tastes good is actually kind of adorable. 
He swallows and shakes his head. “Mhm. Nope.”
“There’s cookie dough in the freezer,” Lizzie tells him, putting him out of his misery. “It was Jo’s favourite as well, she always made Dad buy in at least two tubs in case of emergencies.”
“An ice cream emergency?” Kaleb questions.
Lizzie gestures around them, then at her own bowl. 
Kaleb nods. “Enough said.” He points at the second bowl as he gets up to move over to the freezer. “What about that?”
“Considering my day, two bowls seems fair,” Lizzie tells him. 
She dumps the contents of the second one into her own as Kaleb gives another chuckle. He retrieves the tub of cookie dough ice cream from the freezer and returns. When he takes a spoonful of it, his nose doesn’t wrinkle, and he gives a contented sigh and smiles, nodding to himself. 
“Now that,” he points his spoon at the tub, “that is good ice cream.”
“Honestly, you have no taste,” Lizzie jokes. “In anything except fashion. That, at least, I can respect.”
“I could say the same for you,” Kaleb quips. He glances up at her from beneath his eyelashes and maybe her heart gives a little flutter as a sly smile twists across his lips. 
She narrows her eyes, hiding it. Except he can hear it. But that doesn’t matter, she tells herself, because it’s nothing anyway. Probably brain freeze getting to her. Just… in her chest, instead.
“Agree to disagree,” she says. 
“Fine by me.” Kaleb then nods at her expectantly. “Right. Come on. Your turn.”
Catching on, Lizzie groans. “Oh no, I can’t. It’s humiliating!”
Even as she says it, she’s laughing again as Kaleb persists, trying to pull it out of her. In the end, it actually works, and she spills the whole nightmare to him. He listens. He laughs, of course, but only when she does, and he… doesn’t leave. 
Lizzie finishes both bowls of ice cream and Kaleb gets through his entire tub, then finally gets around to his blood bag as they keep talking. It’s well past midnight — maybe even past one in the morning, she can’t be sure — but neither of them even thinks about leaving. After the day they’ve had — hell, the weeks they’ve had — this was exactly what they both needed. 
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shorkbrian · 3 years
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ASKS
Hello again, asks are compiled under the cut. Please block the tag #shorkbrian answers a lot of asks# If you’d prefer not to see these types of posts from me. If I haven’t answered your ask, it’s because I’m saving it for a thirst, drabble, or fic.
I don’t ignore asks, but sometimes getting around to them overwhelms me lol. pls accept my apologies lol k here we go
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I am very glad, I legit was so scared that it was too long and that it’d be disappointing bc the smut wasn’t super IN YOUR FACE yknow? But man am I glad to hear that.
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I’m looking directly @ you
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Someone noticed omg!!!  A lot of times I just put whatever song I played on repeat while writing that fit, but I have a *yandere* playlist that I listen to and it gets me going. Ty for noticing!!!
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I’ve considered opening them permanently but I just... idek. I’d have to start deleting or ignoring the requests I don’t vibe with and Idk how to handle that lol. But thanks for the well wishes, hope your next few months treat you well friend!
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Watermelon sugar why
Srsly you’re sweet but just wait until I start to really get going with all my nasty kinks okay, then you’ll be rethinking this strategy hunty lol!
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I literally stalk @.vermiliren and @.kazooli and @.seita lol. Maybe when I get my blog more cleaned up, I’ll create a list of creators that I enjoy, along with fic recs. For now, here’s a link to my AO3 bookmarks which I read one like almost every single night bc I’m a horny gremlin.
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I am the shark king. Sharks are my thing bro u don’t even know. I love them so much, they're dumb and big and beautiful and yeah I wish I was a mermaid who got to swim with them. Also I changed it bc I’m trying to make my blog more *professional* and all that so I can start being taken seriously askjakjdf
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Compliments suck, if I'm being down and out honest. This does not bother me at all, I’m just unsure how to respond. I think I would prefer no comments, but I’m trying really really hard to just say “thank you!” and move on before I get uncomfortable. Having to fight with someone about how I perceive my self worth is exhausting, and especially so for the poor person that was just trying to say something nice and be nice to me. 
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They do make me quite uncomfortable my dear lad/lassie/lasso. Say what you wish in the tags tho ! I don’t really reply to those, so there’s no pressure on me to have to say something back. I do however, see all the tags ppl use and some of them make me laugh so hard cause they’re so spot on, and it makes my day. like “Mark me down as scared AND horny” and “Bakugou better be able to bench 165 cause imma throw my fatass in his mf lap” and it kills me.
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I SCEREAMED AKDHGSYDGASJSD this is the only format I'll be taking asks in now, no compliments just a yes/no answer to if my works help u cum god bless
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you used the /gen!!!!! IDK what these are called but the /S and /gen and /J save my life!!!!
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Frick you’ve figured me out, I do try to put like a nail-in-the-coffin sentence at the end. A lot of times it never works right, but I cannot for the life of my figure out how to end a single post ever. If anyone knows hmu pls ty
(Also ps I checked out ur blog cause yans are my jam and it is very much Not garbage!!)
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That’s very kind of you, but pls don’t stay up past midnight it’s bad for ur Brian you’ll make bad decisions bro trust me all of my stuff is written after midnight
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You will lafff..... but I will tell anyways..... I was prescribed a “life coach” after I got out of the hospital, which was really just a poorly disguised softcore “make sure u don’t yeet urself” type of thing. He had me write down things I liked about myself, and when I returned the sheet of paper still blank, he wrote stuff down for me. Like five sentences of “My hair and skin are unique and special” “I like animals and enjoy being kind to them” “I am worthy of respect” etc etc. and I had to look in a mirror twice a day and say those sentences to help “boost my self worth”. It sucked so bad dude, and I like got upset about it every time it came up, until finally my therapist was like “... this aint doin this sad bitch no good” and my parents got designated for yeet watch instead.
I know, logically, that (the majority of) people are not purposefully taking time out of their day to make me feel bad. They're trying to be encouraging and loving, and I appreciate it so much. But like... what do I say? If I say thanks, it’s almost like acknowledging what they're saying as true, and I can’t live with myself thinking I’m more than I am. I’m sorry you’ve had experiences that make compliments difficult for you also, I understand bro and I hope that your future holds healing and peace for you. 
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Hopefully I won’t vent as much anymore lol, I’ll try to do that on my sideblog where I reblog really trigger-y memes akjdafhkjf. But thank you for your kind words bro, they’re appreciated and put in a nice lil jar.
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Ah dw! This doesn’t sound like a jab. I think all of us r so sad n depressed and feel unworthy of love, so the fantasy of a Yan coming and forcing it on us and not leaving even when we lash out is just..... so attractive my heads gonna explode
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me, thinking about kiri at any given moment like:
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I have the next Hybrid! Kiri fic like lined up, but I’m so demotivated be I was SO CLOSE to finishing, and then wiped my computer like an IDITO
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Waso, I’m taking horseback riding lessons bc my mom went:
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and my grandpa told me that one of his horses was named Awaso and I immediately thot of u fun fact. But you’re so very kind, and I enjoy seeing you in my inbox. I’m never tired of u homie. You are loved and important, and it’s not an illusion. Even random strangers on the internet can feel soft towards you bro, and dats me, I’m the random stranger that likes u.
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So I took Russian for a year, my dear friend, because I wanted to see if the language myth of “Russian is the hardest, Korean is the easiest” was true. I would say yes. So instead of like translating this and typing out a coherent response, I’ve resorted to google translate I’m so sorry but Виктор мог плюнуть мне в глаз, и я бы поблагодарил его. Also, the way Vitya is written in cryllic makes my heart swell it looks so cozy idek what I mean by that but it does? I treasure you man, hope to see you around in the new year and maybe??? we be good friends
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Can any year be good when Kirishima Eijirou doesn’t exist?
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cryface;;sad.jpg
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I just imagine anyone who comes across my stuff, sitting at their computer shocked and slightly horrified, maybe turned on like
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Daddy Aizawa makes me
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Wait!! I have something to aid your troubles!!
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ur welcome now u can be horny whenever you’d like 
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pls every time we talk about Kirishima I have to act surprised like 
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LISTEN BBYGORL I have had therapist Suga in the works since *checks notes* November. I am excited for it yeahhhhhh but sadly, I don’t think I will be continuing piano teacher Suga. The story is petered out in my mind, idk where it would go. Therapist sugarbird tho? We have some thots about this. Coming soon to theaters near you
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yooleestruck · 4 years
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in which lee rambles about how great writers are
I don’t really know what this is. I don’t know if now is the right time to do this, or a really bad time, or if it makes any sense, but I want to talk about it! I feel like a broken record saying ‘the writing matters most, the writing matters most’ but maybe I need to show what I mean by that? So, here is an attempt. 
I’m sorry not all of these are the same length and not everyone is here, because every time I see that someone is a writer I do try to follow but I don’t always know/remember! Also I am weird about this sort of thing and don’t want to tag people in a monster-long post, so I’m just going to link. I also don’t want to make this a producers vs writers thing, it’s not, it’s just, when I say I notice writer-stuff, an explanation of what, specifically, I mean. 
Writers have a style fingerprint. I’m sure someone with an actual creative writing or English background could describe it all academic-ly, but my ex-chemist ass is just going to call it a fingerprint. 
My first game in Lovestruck was Starship Promise - I love Firefly, I’m a bisexual disaster scientist by education, it fit. But I had been REALLY put off by GIL when it first came out (this was back when they released stories in parts? And the heroine, which I will get to) and though I’d glanced at AFK, I mistrusted it after GIL and Medusa, who was who I was interested in, wasn’t out yet. So I resisted a LONG time.  I finally picked up LS and SP and played it explicitly because a friend said, you need to give this another chance, for a list of specific reasons. 
And when Atlas’s route came out, I read it a stupid number of times. I must have re-read his season 1 & 2 at least eight times apiece (he is still my most read route, despite the fact I have not read his last season because I want to leave the story open-ended)  so when I read Neil Dresner’s route, I recognized the fingerprint. Not only that, when I was reading Jett and the episodes with the paint scene (YOU KNOW THE SCENE) came out, my breath caught with how lovely it was, a particular in-between moment and touch, and even though it wasn’t a phrase I had seen, the style of it, had me re-reading (because it was gorgeous) again and again from the log for like five minutes and I thought, “I bet Melissa wrote this” AND SHE DID. 
Physical touch! (& in-betweens)
Melissa-grey has a particular way of writing about physical touch in very emotional moments that is very real and grounded and ironically the effect is just magical. It creates these so skillful “in between” moments, those little things that aren’t dialogue and aren’t metaphor but SHOW you that this closed off person is cracking for their little ray of sunshine. They are SO subtle and so beautiful, like, the heroine noticing the scent of a pillow, or a softening of an aborted hand movement.  She sets up and executes these moments of physical touch as a conduit for emotional touch with characters who aren’t ready to admit he latter and it’s DELICIOUS. Those little in-betweens are what I live for in story - and it includes all the supporting cast moments, who swell up to make the world feel lived in, and balanced (I loathe love stories where no one else exists! That’s a recipe for disaster, people need networks) I noticed when she stopped writing, and because I missed it, I went and bought the entire Midnight Girl series, as well as Rated (I hope that is flattering and not creepy!) and that style of writing is so unique, that without KNOWING, I picked it up in four separate routes (noticed in Sev’s s1, too!) 
Pacing (& friggen heartache)
Another fingerprint! Ripping your heart out! Arthoure has had me in tears, MULTIPLE TIMES and I get very grouchy about it every time because I am the least sentimental and romantic person that I know (I once MOVED STATES to avoid an ‘I love you’ conversation. I once said ‘yikes’ in response to an ‘I love you’ and I once broke up with someone because I thought he was going to propose. I’m a bitch) but I think it’s because of pacing! I know that producers play a role in that, but that actually makes it more impressive, because making each bit of story feel like it fits precisely the amount of space it needs when you don’t really get a say in how much space that is has got to take a MASSIVE amount of effort. Every little hint, every emotional beat, every character tell, they drop at a consistent build so the emotional payoff is just brutal (in a good, cathartic way?) every time a route makes me cry I wait and see and YEAH ITS ALWAYS ARTHOURE. The sweep and sentiment of Remy’s season 2 is unparalleled. Across Time is gutwrenching, and I actually stopped reading Renzei at one point because I was so emotional over it I had to like, LEGIT TAKE A BREAK to recover. Pacing and heartache. I have to stop and wonder - is it because the routes themselves are so gut-punching? OR is it because she knows how to wring every last emotional drop out of whatever story framework is handed to her? Because, Ezekiel’s villain costume is a bit silly (there I said it, it is) I get the cobra helmet shape in theory but in practice, ooof, but POINT BEING despite being skeptical I’d be able to take his story seriously as a result, I was hiccuping from crying so much (and I am gosh darn adult, in my thirties, with three degrees and a high-stress job at pretty major company. I DON’T CRY EASY)
 Dialogue (& heroines!)
Xekstrin is the gosh damn master of dialogue. Clever, witty banter that doesn’t go where you expect it to, meandering but natural topic changes that are delightful to follow and feel real, and--special shoutout for this, okay--the navigation of viscerally important topics like consent, kink, self-worth, power in relationships, self-sacrifice, and apologies in a way that is not stilted or forced at all (listen, I know Viv & Lyris are the most recent and they are amazing but I remember this first hit me when I was reading Astraeus, and I spent half the route with my jaw on the floor going, oh shit,  oh shit. The communication! The navigation of the complexity of emotion going on, chef’s kiss! Casual isn’t the right word, but, natural, maybe?). I don’t actually take that many screenshots of the app--it’s usually single lines that get me--but when I do, they are almost always conversations from one of her routes, because they’re so damn good, and often so unexpected, and yet always make such perfect sense for the characters involved. Dialogue is SO HARD OKAY. Actually try and transcribe a conversation sometime, it’s nuts how people talk vs how most people write people talking. Xekstrin also writes some of my absolute favorite MCs, and going back to fingerprints, I was reading Lyris s1 and right there in the first tavern scene, as we were following along with the heroine’s thoughts I went, ah, yes, I know who you belong to and I am SO EXCITED. Being able to give the heroine unique thoughts and quirks, to make her genuinely relatable, without overriding the necessary template of the genre dictates, is a skill all of its own. But I love her MCs! There is a beautiful balance of compassion, competence, and dash of bratty, wild, fun mischief. I can actually cheer for them. I can actually get behind them. I WANT the love interest to flop at their feet for who they are, not just because the story says so. And that comes from how the heroine’s thoughts are written, from her phrasing in conversations, how she sees situations, not just a producer saying ‘she is a strong lead who is self conscious about her ears and she’s nervous in the council meeting’ or whatever. I AM REALLY STRUGGLING to articulate this if you can’t tell from how long I have been blathering. Maybe this - the heroine is the same across every route, presumably, yes? Everyone has the same base. I NEVER question, when xekstrin is writing, why the love interest falls in love with her. Side note - I had hard written off GIL after a bad experience with the standalone app. I only read Aurora BECAUSE I learned she wrote it, and I would have SO MISSED OUT otherwise.
A complete aside in which Lee grumbles about heroines and not writers!
(Complete side vent: Often, the heroine is, if not a blank slate, a sort of collection of assigned traits, and she often remains so unless the story demands she become otherwise. Which is fine! I don’t personally, but I know a lot of folks self-insert, and so erring towards that makes sense. Almost all the otome I’ve played were originally written for a Japanese audience. When I played original Voltage games, starting back in 2014, I always had to remind myself - different culture, different culture, different culture, and it was not possible for me to relate to most of the heroines. I still enjoyed the stories, but I rarely cheered for the heroine’s romance, especially in some of the slice of life stories. I understood her, but I rarely wanted her to get with the love interest, I wanted her success to come in other ways! Another game company, Cybird, tried to ‘Americanize’ their heroine to IMO disastrous effect - it was such a stereotype, and made no sense since they didn’t also Americanize the context, so she come across as, frankly, ridiculous. And frankly, Voltage’s GIL heroine REEKED OF THAT. When they first posted her on social media I was legitimately annoyed about it, like could you lean into this more? I think not. So when I talk about being able to relate to and cheer for the heroine, it’s a big deal, because my blatant mistrust of Voltage and their ability to craft a heroine I could tolerate was a BIG factor in how long it took me to give Lovestruck a try. I was willing to tolerate it in translated stories, I was so skeptical of -en only ones.) 
Metaphors (& balance)
literacouture writes beautiful metaphors for connection between humans! I’m really bad at keeping track of who writes what, but I purposefully kept an eye out on tumblr after reading Cal’s route, because there were some lines that were pure poetry, and I wanted to keep an eye out for more. It is HARD to spin metaphors prettily without delving into trite, painful, purple prose cringe territory, and it’s navigated beautifully in Cal’s route. There’s a balance between those spin-out moments and things that are tangible and anchoring and make it feel authentic and unique to the two characters involved, instead of just ‘I am trying to make this sound romantic and this is a romantic phrase so here it is’. That balance is really necessary. You NEED the mundane alongside the metaphor or it doesn’t feel authentic. Also. Trying really hard to write this without throwing any authors or producers under the bus, but...listen. I love Sin with Me. But the world logic (or LACK THEREOF) drives me up a wall. I don’t read Cal because of his character traits or sprite or (sigh) his story. I read him because literacouture writes a beautiful romance.
 So anyway...
There are more! When I am less tired and don’t have meetings, I will try and write them up (Please know there are so many routes I love, and so many things I do recognize across chapters! I don’t even HAVE words for what theivorytowercrumbles accomplished with Helena’s story not to mention how much I adore Cyprin,  SummerLightning’s handling of Onyx’s past relationship was so deftly done when it could have so quickly become ‘milk abuse for plot’ and joidecombat gave Sev a fresh, mischievous energy and navigated the dream/reality line with SUCH skill, and so on and so on.)
I’ve written a lot of reviews. And I try to give nods where I feel they’re due - sometimes, it really is obvious that the whole team’s work came together to makes something great, the world, the plot, the arc, the art, the words, and the music all fit into place in a  well-crafted tour de force. And sometimes one piece or another is lacking, and I’ll admit I’ve left some...less than kind reviews to that end (I try and soften it, because I know there are humans on the other side of everything, but I’ve been harsh more than once with my opinions).  I’ve read routes with plots that made me want to tear my hair out because I DO value consistency and logic to a degree, even if I’m going to accept at face value that, say, space travel is a thing or demons turn to sand when stabbed. 
In the end, these are romance stories. So I will let a lot slide when it comes to plot. What sells a story are the words - not the outline.
And if Voltage doesn’t believe that - just remember that Hamlet existed long, long before Shakespeare wrote it. His was the version that lasted, because the people liked it best. The plot, the world, the characters, they all existed a hundred times over. Even just look at fan translations of manga. Why do people keep translating, even if someone else has? Because the words someone else picked don’t do the story justice. 
I don’t know. I’m talking in circles because I don’t know my own thesis! 
Maybe it’s just - the worlds these stories in are nice. But when I say I’m a fan of something, the premise is like. 10%. The rest is the writing. 
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elsadidherbestokay · 4 years
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Okay so I haven’t actually written fanfiction (I do write poems still) since I was 13 and wrote some truly awful stories, all of which I abandoned two chapters in but Frozen is really calling me so I guess now I’m writing fanfics. Any feedback is welcomed, especially constructive criticism but uhhh tbh I’m nervous posting it because I’m not a very good writer and I use commas like an idiot but anyway I hope some of yall enjoy it? 
One shot, 2k.
Gale won’t carry a note to the forest. Anna knows he’s probably just busy, so why is it so hard to breathe all of the sudden? Luckily Elsa is never too far away.
Gale always came when she called. Always. Even the times early on when she woke up in the dead of night and just needed to hear from Elsa to ease that little spark of fear deep within. It took only a few midnight notes for her terror to ease, knowing Gale would have a hastily scrawled note reassuring her of Elsa’s love and making plans to visit the next day within her hands in a half hour. Sure, the little wind spirit would sometimes take a moment or two to respond but never long enough for Anna to call more than twice and usually even that was overkill, the playful breeze blowing in the exact second Anna started to call a second time. She swore Gale waited for her to call again on purpose, just to take joy in interrupting her.
But certainly Gale had never made her call four times, as was happening now. Anna didn’t, strictly speaking, need Gale. Anna had the kingdom well in hand and notes she actually needed to send were rare. There were many times she felt as though she needed advice though, and Elsa’s letters were always so helpful. She still ended up venting her frustrations over fireside hot chocolate, their little ritual which was a more common these days since Kristoff had implemented a strict “no trade negotiations complaints during family game night” rule after charades devolved into a debate about the best ways to ensure favorable trades. One of the little girls in town had tugged on her sleeve as she passed by, breaking about seven kinds of etiquette in favor of asking her to give Elsa a photograph of her using a real sextant with snowflakes etched into it. It was incredibly cute and exactly something that Elsa would love to see and Anna made sure to tell the apologetic mother that it was quite alright, little children just get so excited and she really wasn’t offended about the breach of protocol and she’d be sure to send it right over.
But Gale just wouldn’t come, no matter how long she stood on her balcony and sang. What if it was something serious? What if there was an emergency and Gale refused to come? After all, the wind spirit couldn’t have known that Anna didn’t actually need help. Despite her best efforts the panic rose in Anna’s throat, binding tight in a way that didn’t particularly care what her rational mind thought, or that Anna had already sent four notes in the past twelve hours, their letters a constant back and forth that mostly consisted of “look how cute this bird I saw is” with a drawing, or “here’s a fact from Olaf xoxo,” a stream of consciousness that neither sister needed but that was nice. Like a conversation over tea, no matter where the other was.
Anna knew full well that Elsa wasn’t missing, that tonight was an important night for her at the Northaldran camp, that game night was tomorrow, and her sister was fine. Olaf was proof of that and Elsa wasn’t exactly in danger from any ordinary accidents of the forest. But the fact that Elsa could contact her perfectly fine and she couldn’t reach Elsa felt too much like the way things used to be, a barrier between them that Anna was powerless against.
It had had her hands shaking a little, rubbing against the thick paper she held in a vain attempt to soothe her. The forest was only two hours away for a single rider on a quick horse but she had official meetings tomorrow and her horse would be too tired for a return trip after just an hour or so there. Neither could she ask another to go in her stead, as Kristoff was needed tomorrow as well and she could not send any other. It wouldn’t be good for Arendelle, for the Queen to be sending anyone she could find off to the forest because she had to wait an hour to send a note there. No, she had to wait until Gale showed up again or Elsa came over for the night. Tomorrow, at the latest, and if not by then than something might actually be wrong. Not that anything was. Everything was fine. Gale was just busy, there was no need to be so absolutely bone deep terrified. Right?
Elsa, meanwhile was completely oblivious to her sister’s growing anxiety. She had taken Gale and the Nokk to Ahtohallan, searching for answers much different than the last time she had gone. Anna had jokingly told her that she was hogging the river of memories all to herself and wouldn’t she consider if the Northuldra wanted to visit while she was telling Anna her newly formed habits and Elsa couldn’t stop considering the possibility. Anna didn’t mean anything by it of course, having always considered it a place of spirits alone when Elsa had told her of the journey there, the deep pitfalls within that gave her confidence she was the only person to step foot there in centuries. But the knowledge of Ahtohallan had to come from somewhere and that meant that somebody had to have been there, right? 
Ahtohallan answered her long considered ruminations, showing her Northaldran people from long ago exploring the cave. Only a glimpse, nothing more, but enough to bring ease to her worried mind and reassure her that with the spirits happy once more it was theoretically possible. She would not even consider bringing Anna across the sea if she didn’t know she would be safe within. It would be cruel, to give her such hope, to show her such beauty, and have to drag her out for her own safety before her sister saw what she wished.
No, Elsa’s mind was not on Anna’s current terror but rather, how to present to her the opportunity. If Anna genuinely didn’t want to go that was quite all right but Elsa was determined to make sure she understood that it was safe, that she was welcome to go if she wanted to, because her sister had been through so much, done so much for Elsa and if this would make Anna happy then she would do it in a heart beat.
But the moment she and Gale stepped out into the bright sunlight, they found the Nokk already formed, prancing in distress and Gale seemed to vibrate with energy for a split second before darting off across the sea, quick as could be and utterly terrifying. She had only been inside for an hour or two, and at the camp that morning. What could have possibly gone wrong that quickly?
Heart thumping in sudden terror, Elsa grabbed Nokk’s mane and swung up onto him, knowing he was too worked up to kneel for her and the exact second her feet were both off the ground he took off, surging forwards with a strange determination that Elsa was afraid to find the cause of. But he didn’t take her to the camp. Within a few moments they were at the castle, bounding up an ice staircase to the balcony of Anna’s room and the Nokk vanished. Terrified, Elsa slipped into the open balcony doors to find Anna sobbing heavily, curled around a pillow that was wet from tears and Gale fluttering around the room in obvious distress. Her sister didn’t even notice their arrival.
“Anna? Anna, what’s wrong?” Elsa dropped to her knees in front of the heavy four posted bed and her sister jolted, throwing herself into Elsa’s arms and sending them both crashing onto the cold concrete. There was a fresh round of wails, Anna burying her face into the crook of Elsa’s neck as she held her tightly.
“I’m s-s-sorry!” Anna cried,  “I couldn’t call you,” and here her voice hitched. Elsa instantly felt awful. She had been singing, a lullaby that Maren had taught her last week. To think that her sister was beside herself with worry at the sudden inability to contact her while Elsa had been twirling in the snow, happy beyond belief at the prospect of sharing the hall of memories. Gale couldn’t have heard.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for Anna, I took Gale with me to Ahtohallan. He couldn’t hear you inside. The second we stepped out he shot off to you, of course you were frightened.” Anna’s sobs slowly started to fade away. “It’s okay Anna, I’d be terrified if it was the other way around. But I promise you, I’ll never let that happen ever again.” Elsa pulled away just a tiny bit, creating trio of snow doves and sending every bit of the love she had for her sister into them. They flapped their wings as the magic in them brought them to life, flying a quick circle around the room before returning. The largest one claimed Anna’s lap to snuggle into while the other two landed on Elsa’s outstretched arm.
“Oh Elsa!” Anna stroked the largest one’s head gently as it cooed. “They’re beautiful!”
“They’re alive, they’ll stay with you when I leave. I wish I had thought of this much sooner but they can carry notes. I don’t know if they’ll be able to find me inside Ahtohallan but we’ll do an experiment sometime to find out. I think they’ll be able to find me in the regular forest with ease. Gale will still come of course but we’ll give the little guy a break, huh?” Gale tossed Elsa’s hair into her face at the mention of his name and she smiled. 
“You’re off note passing duty Gale, how about that? And thank you Elsa, I don’t know what came over me. I knew Gale was just busy but I just started to feel so worried. I haven‘t felt like I couldn’t reach you in so long, it felt like I couldn’t breathe.”
Elsa took her sister’s hands in her own, ducking her head to make eye contact the way Anna had so often done for her. “Do you remember, when we first opened up the palace how often I was overwhelmed just by touching things? I wore the gloves for so long that the feeling of textures felt wrong sometimes, even though I knew it was okay.”
Anna smiled sadly. “I remember when you carried that velvet book around for a week because you couldn’t believe how soft it was.”
“Even when you know things are different, some things just set you off until you the then bleeds into the now. But you’ll always have the birds now, so you never once have to feel like you can’t reach me, okay? You have three of them and Gale will still come to you, so you can send me all the notes your heart desires and the second you ask for it I’ll be on my way. I love getting to use my powers so freely and knowing that I can help both countries this way but Anna, I will never let you feel alone because of it, okay?”
"Thank you,” Anna said softly. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Come to Ahtohallan with me, I’d like to show you something.”
“What??” Anna cried, any lingering tears quickly forgotten in her surprise. Elsa laughed, grin spreading across her face at the sheer excitement on her sisters’.
“I mean it. That’s what I was doing earlier, asking if anyone else has even been there. It showed me a group of Northaldrans there many centuries ago and so I think it would be safe for you. I didn’t want to offer until I knew for sure you’d be able to go all the way into the hall of memories. Of course, you don’t have to go and if you’d rather not I understand and I--” Anna’s hand was suddenly shushing her.
“Elsa,” she said quite seriously. “I can think of nothing I’d like more than see Ahtohallan with you.”
It wasn’t until the next morning that Anna remembered last night was meant to be a celebration of her sister’s first hunting trip for the village. Her sister waved it away when Anna apologized, telling her that she had already caught the food and she certainly didn’t need the celebration for it but her message was undercut by the two letters from last week about how excited she was to so be accepted into the village. Anna felt awful but so, so loved.
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swimmingseafish · 4 years
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Sanderstale Prequel: Jen
So, this is a Sanderstale prequel fic that I wrote in literally one day. It’s somewhat OC-focused, but I’m pretty proud of it, so I’m posting it here too.
tagged: @hideyseek @ironwoman359 @shrimpangie
summary: The journal of the second heir to the human throne, before the human-monster war. Could also be described as the personal accounts of Princen Cal of Medeis, featuring their family and monster friends and one particularly violent Entity.
CW: violence (mentioned at least), several implied deaths, possession, and an almost-drowning (but very vague). 
(Please let me know if I need to tag anything else for this fic. I don’t think I’m leaving anything out, but I’m not positive.)
Read it on ao3!
Entry 1
(I have a strange urge to write this like a letter, and no one’s going to read this anyways, so they won’t care if I’m a dork.)
Hi, book of blank lined pages.
Father says I should keep a journal and write an entry once a week. He thinks it’ll help me prepare to help rule the kingdom one day. Or at least, I suppose, to deal with paperwork.
I mean, I guess it isn’t a bad idea. We’ll see how this goes.
It was nice to meet you.
- Cal
Entry 2
Greetings, still-mostly-blank journal.
People write important events down in journals, right? I think that’s how it works.
Well, I had my naming day this week! I’d been SO looking forward to turning eighteen. I finally got to stand in front of the kingdom and introduce myself to the world as Calyx, they/them, second heir to the throne of Medeis. Immy was very proud of her little sibling (me).
Prince Emile of Bellua was there, too, out of royal formality and respect. His naming day was a few months ago. I still don’t know him very well, but he seems nice, and so do his parents, which is good. Eventually, Immy and I will have to negotiate with him on things like borders and taxes, so we better at least kind of get along.
Hey, you know what? Since it’s my naming day and I insist on writing these like letters, I might as well name you, too. How about Jen?
(So, I like alliteration. Sue me.)
See you next week,
Cal
Entry 3
Dear Jen,
Mother and Father have been particularly stressed this week.
We’ve been working with Bellua to build and maintain a reservoir on the Regio, which is the largest river in the area and also happens to be the border between our two kingdoms. But the negotiation of exactly where to put the dam has been an absolute nightmare.
Why can’t we just put it by Lake Aureus? That makes the most sense. It’s basically a reservoir on its own already—just dam the river and add supporting structures to make the lake deeper. And that lake’s relatively empty of life for some reason, even though the water’s clean, so we wouldn’t be encroaching on protected species or monster homes.
But no one asked me, so.
Actually, hold on a second. I’m going to try something.
***
Back two hours later to say that Immy absolutely loved my idea and will be pitching it to our parents tomorrow morning. Huh. Maybe I should speak up more.
Good night, Jen.
- Cal
Entry 4
Dear Jen,
I’m no longer sure if speaking up was a good idea or not.
It’s managed to convince Immy and my parents that it’s time for me to handle a project on my own. Which should be a good thing! And I’m happy that they consider me responsible enough for that! It’s just that the project in question happens to be this infernal DAM. It’s fascinating, but the paperwork and scheduling and negotiations for workers and who does what when are absolutely EXCRUCIATING.
Also, I’ve spent nearly every day this week with Diana, the royal architect, which, again, SHOULD have been fine, if we hadn’t gotten into an argument five years ago with her daughter that led to us completely cutting off communication. Diana would not stop talking about Daisy.
“Yes, your highness, I agree that we should add more supports on that side. By the way, have you considered asking my daughter to help? She’s becoming quite a skilled architect herself.”
“It’s such a shame that you and Daisy don’t talk anymore, your highness.”
“Daisy actually came up with this particular design. Isn’t she doing such a good job?”
“Did you hear
I was going to keep writing out things that she said, but I got frustrated, so nope.
I like Diana, but I had good reason to stop talking to Daisy. So, also a big nope on talking to her.
I wish just one thing in my life was straightforward. Wait, no, definitely not. Nothing about me is straight.
***
I just laughed for a good five minutes over a pun I’ve made a billion times. I’m definitely exhausted. I need to at least try to get some sleep.
Night, Jen.
- Cal
Entry 5
Dear Jen,
Sorry, I know it’s been a month since I’ve last written, but I’ve gotten so much done!
Diana and I completed the plans for the Vis Dam three weeks ago, and it’s been under construction ever since. I’m due to go and supervise the end of construction in a few days.
I’m, quite frankly, a little nervous. I’ve put so much time and effort into this project, and it actually seems like it’s paying off.
As long as it’s not like the Cat Herding Incident of 1845, I think we’ll be good.
I’ll update this more once I can finally say the project’s complete.
- Cal
Entry 6
Dear Jen,
So! Things have happened. The Vis Dam is finished, thank goodness, but that didn’t quite go as planned.
Let me break this down for you:
I, in my ridiculous ceremonial robes, arrive at the dam. Prince Emile’s there, along with several other monster nobles that I don’t know and a host of human and monster workers.
I make small talk with Emile for the next hour or so until the dam’s officially complete. I learn that he really likes tea and that we both enjoyed this one children’s book series about space gem people. He is incredibly pleased to learn that I’d read it and that I am actually willing to listen to him talk about it. (People need to give this guy a place to nerd out more often, clearly.)
Both Diana and Daisy are there. I say hi to Diana and then proceed to ignore them as politely as possible.
It’s time for me to dedicate the dam, and I make my speech from the second-floor platform, just underneath the area that would vent water. It should be noted, and it cannot be emphasized enough, that this was not my idea. I would have been fine giving my speech from the top of the dam. But Diana decided, along with my parents, that it would be better to give a speech about the two kingdoms getting along if everyone was on the same level, literally. So, she added in a large, retractable platform lower on the structure. Why it was beneath the water vents, I have no idea. It might just be because that was in the center. Regardless, that’s beside the point.
Everyone else stands around me, while I stand with my back to the dam. It should be noted that the water vents were supposed to be OFF.
I finish my dedication of the dam to peace and harmony between humans and monsters, and everyone starts applauding. The vent directly above my head, determined to ruin my day, opens, blasting me and a dozen other assorted monsters and humans off of the dam and into the reservoir below.
This was not a short fall, by the way. It was a good 200 feet down at least. The only reason we didn’t all die was that someone caught us with blue magic just before we hit the water, holding us still for a brief second and then letting us drop 2 feet instead.
I, also, am terrible at swimming. We—Immy and I—had to take classes as children, but we only ever had to get good enough to be able to survive. Immy’s a swimming champion. I can tread water for five minutes. I was not (and am not) equipped to survive in a raging river.
Fortunately, just as I was about to go under for good, I felt my SOUL turn blue again. I was forcibly yanked from the water so hard that I flew over the water and smacked into my very furry rescuer. He felt so guilty that he couldn’t stop apologizing, despite the fact that he’d saved my life and he had no reason to feel sorry (as I promptly told him).
Turns out, his name was Patton, and he’d been practicing his blue magic by working on the dam—moving parts into place alongside the other workers. His specialty is healing magic, but his parents both served in high positions in the Belluan military, so they had insisted he learn more combative magic as well. He’d done great with fire magic, he told me, but the specific SOUL magic types had proven more difficult, hence the practice.
Right then, Emile, who’d apparently escaped being thrown off the platform by the waterfall of death, ran over, asking if I was okay. I quickly assured him that I was and that he didn’t need to worry, though it was appreciated.
And then:
“Oh! Prince Emile Dreemurr, meet Patton Hart. He saved my life.”
“Ah, n-nice to meet you, Patton.” Emile’s cheeks turned bright red as he dipped his head to Patton.
“It’s nice to meet you too, your highness!” Patton said, bowing and then bouncing back up. He glanced at me, still soaking wet, and then at Emile, standing there in pristine royal robes. “I see you’re not a go with the flow kind of prince.”
All three of us immediately burst out laughing, but Emile couldn’t stop staring at Patton the whole time. Prince Emile, who I’d officially decided was my friend now, clearly had a GIANT crush on the boy who saved my life.
I went home after talking to both of them for a little while longer—and after getting a towel. My robes were soaked. I think I’m going to need new ones; I don’t trust that velvet to last after that much exposure to dubious-quality water.
Patton, Emile, and I are planning on meeting up next week. I’m determined to play matchmaker. Also, they both seem like amazing people, and I haven’t had a close friend outside of Immy in years. (Don’t be offended, Jen—I’m counting humans and monsters, not journals).
Wow, this entry got long. I’ll be back sometime soon. It’s after midnight and I have to debrief Mother and Father tomorrow on this whole fiasco.
But overall, a successful day, don’t you think?
Night!
- Cal
Entry 7
Dear Jen,
I love these two.
First of all, there was an absolutely GOLD moment that I have to share.
We all met up at my home, the castle in Medeis, since neither Emile nor Patton regularly made trips to the human kingdom, so I figured it’d be fun for them. Patton got there first, and we were sitting in what is best described as the living room and chatting.
Emile, arriving next, didn’t know that Patton was there already, and for reasons unknown decided to open the door while making what were arguably the strangest noises I have ever heard in my life. It was like he was trying to be an entire orchestra introducing the beginning of a children’s play but could only generate notes via his own voice and using the vowel “da” at various pitches and intensities.
I actually didn’t even know it was him at first, to be honest, until he stopped, popped his head around the door frame, and instantly turned bright red upon seeing both me and Patton.
Does he just enter every room that way? Is that something he reserves for friends? Not the blushing thing, but the singing thing. I didn’t ask because he was already embarrassed, but now I REALLY want to know.
Second, on a more general level, things I learned from this experience:
1. Patton probably has a crush on Emile too, based on the evidence of my own eyes. (No, Jen, I refuse to elaborate. That would take up at LEAST all the rest of your pages.)
2. Patton will make puns endlessly unless he is stopped. (And Emile will definitely not stop him ever.)
3. Emile will reference various fantasy books endlessly and cannot be stopped. (This is not a bad thing. He clearly loves them.)
4. Patton, despite being the only one out of the three of us that isn’t an heir to a throne (and the youngest by a couple weeks), has the best head for leadership and politics.
5. All three of us care too much, apparently, and have been told so several times by our family and friends, especially Emile. He says not to hold it against his parents, though.
6. Patton’s a pacifist and refuses to fight anyone in a real battle, though he is trained for it. Luckily, there aren’t really any real battles he’d need to fight in. We’re lucky enough to live in a remarkably peaceful time.
7. Emile is simultaneously stronger and weaker than you’d think. He’s built, with broad shoulders and muscles clearly built up from years of training. But we practiced fighting together, and he’s the most skilled at magical attacks. His trident is really something else. I’m a skilled martial artist, but I’m not a mage, so I can only beat him about half the time.
8. Emile is trying to grow a beard with only VERY limited success. I asked him why he bothers when he already has more than enough hair, and he bopped me (very lightly!) on the head with his trident.
9. I laugh a whole lot more around Emile and Patton than I normally do.
The only other person I’ve been this close to was Daisy, but she broke my heart at age thirteen and I have no desire to revisit that experience. (Maybe the fact that I’m still stuck on it five years later is an issue. There really should be like…mind doctors or something to help with things like that.)
But anyways, I’m not in love with either of them, for sure. Though Immy would get a kick out of it if I fell in love with Emile—she’d say I managed to arrange my own marriage.
I do love them as friends, though, even though we haven’t spent too much time together. I think I get attached quick.
Hopefully we’ll get to do this again a lot in the future.
I’m not sure how much time I’ll have to write in the next few months. Harvest season’s coming up, and I still have to do maintenance on the dam. But I’m dedicated to this now, even though I think my dad’s forgotten he suggested it. Don’t worry, Jen. I won’t abandon you.
Have a good few months,
Cal
Entry 8
Hey, Jen. It’s been a while, huh?
I had a feeling it was going to be hard to keep this up consistently.
Anyways, I’m nineteen now, so there’s that! And yes, past me, you did get to hang out with Patton and Emile much more, don’t worry—I’m now confident in calling them my best friends. And they’re still dancing around each other like the goofballs they are. (To be fair, they’ve had more pressing concerns recently.) Even Emile’s little sister, Princess Linda, needles him about Patton constantly. That’s a good sister right there, and I say this with the full knowledge that I would hate it if Immy did this to me.
I also got to meet Patton’s friend Camden, a tortoise monster, and Camden’s little brother Gerson, who is the most optimistic child (and potentially person) on the face of the planet. Camden wants to be a professional photographer someday, and his work is excellent. He’s hilarious and laughs at pretty much any badly planned joke, which I’m starting to think is a prerequisite for being Patton’s friend.
And Gerson—I still cannot get over him. He’s seven years old and knows so much about the world and current events, but he never lets it affect him negatively. He always looks at the bright side. A monster kid like that, even if he’s not a boss monster, is going to live for centuries.
Oh yeah, current events. I guess I should put that in here too. God knows I need to talk to someone about it.
Tensions between humans and monsters are on the rise and have been pretty consistently for the past year. I didn’t know until three months ago when a skirmish broke out on the border—right by the Vis Dam, in fact. Three humans were grievously injured, and one was killed, but five monsters in total were turned to dust.
Immy and my parents had been trying to handle it quietly with Emile and his parents, but there have been an increasing number of humans terrified of monsters in recent years.
Someone—a palace worker named Silenda—went through the records from the long-ago battles between humans and monsters. She found out that monsters could absorb human SOULs while humans couldn’t absorb monster ones, and she told her brother, who unfortunately was both unable to keep his mouth shut and worked for a very popular newspaper. The information spread quickly, and there are some in our kingdom who have used it to stir up fear.
I actually was a little hurt that my parents didn’t trust me or Immy with this information. And that once they did let us know, they only told Immy. She had to tell me. But I do understand. She’s the Crown Princess. She’ll be queen one day.
But I’ll be her advisor and strongest supporter. Shouldn’t I know, too?
Ugh. I’m still bitter about this and it’s not remotely the point.
The point is that we’re starting to see skirmishes on the border, and neither ruling party wants that. But both countries have so far been unable to stop the fighting. The small factions are operating independently of the leadership.
We might have to call in the military to calm down the situation if it gets any worse, and I can’t see that going remotely well.
I said at the beginning of this entry that I’ve still been seeing Patton and Emile. And I have. But it’s gotten a lot less frequent over the last three months.
Patton’s been working with the medical corps of the Belluan military and volunteering on the “front lines” of the skirmishes, healing whoever he can. Camden’s out there with him, documenting everything for posterity. Gerson mostly stays home, but Camden’s had to bring him once or twice.
Emile’s doing his best as Crown Prince, but it’s been hard on him. He doesn’t hold much power on his own yet, and he feels like if his parents can’t do anything, what could he possibly do?
I’ve been reaching out diplomatically to the leaders of the small factions as best I can to try to get them to stop. Silenda’s been helping me; she’s a surprisingly fast writer, and incredibly brave and strong and a true believer in justice. She also blames herself for everything that’s been going on.
I’ve told her repeatedly that I, at least, don’t blame her, which is true, I don’t. I blame her brother, a little, and the newspaper some, but mostly I blame the people who decided that the only answer to being scared is to kill.
Why did I have to jinx everything by writing that we live in peaceful times?
I wish I could have a conversation about this with someone besides you, Jen, but everyone’s just so busy and overwhelmed and stressed. All I can do with them is endlessly throw solutions around and have none of them work out. At least I can get my thoughts out this way.
Until next time.
- Cal
[On the next three pages, several entries were started and then scratched out.]
Entry 9
Jen—
I turned twenty, and I think I might be losing my mind.
We tried military intervention. It didn’t work. Our soldiers, instead of holding the monsters back and protecting our own citizens, decided to go rogue and wipe out the entire monster battalion.
Bellua and its rulers were rightfully devastated and furious, and they were about to declare war on us.
My parents, Immy, me, and several other councilors held a meeting in the throne room to determine our best course of action. Eventually, they got around to asking my opinion.
I opened my mouth to suggest literally anything other than war. Reparations, peace talks, giving up territory. My best friends were monsters and I had—and still have—absolutely no desire to fight or kill them or their families.
But then I felt like my body was taken over by a stranger. I couldn’t control my movements or my voice. I watched, a horrified passenger in my body, as my voice made a persuasive argument for declaring war before Bellua could.
And they listened.
My parents. My sister. All the councilors.
They listened.
And they declared war.
What’s wrong with me?
I couldn’t—didn’t—say those things.
I love my friends so much that it feels like I have a star living in my chest.
Sil almost slapped me when she found out what I’d done. Instead, she quietly gathered her things and left, tears running down her face. I love her too, and I’ve never told her.
And I might have just lost all of them.
Who do I go to for help? Who would believe me? Even if they did, what could they do?
What the hell is going on, Jen?
Entry 10
It happens nearly every day now.
The Entity—that’s what I’ve chosen to call it—comes for me in the morning. I go through my routine mechanically, or, at least, my body does. Then the Entity and I join the royal council to make plans and move troops.
I’m a general now. Me. All I thought I would ever do was help Immy and run paperwork. And maybe build more dams.
I fight on the field, too. The Entity favors lightweight javelins and shatters SOUL after SOUL with them.
I think dust is permanently stuck to my boots.
I can’t make it stop.
Entry 11
Immy’s worried about me. But she’s all for the war now. And the Entity exerts control even when it’s not speaking for me. I can’t take its words back, so I can’t tell her what’s wrong.
Patton’s worried about me. He’s tried to send me messages using the little spiders that serve the matriarch of the Spider Clans. The Entity won’t let me write back or even read them, and it hurts every single time. The most I’ve managed to do is protect the spiders. The Entity wanted to squish them.
I don’t know if Emile’s worried about me or if he even cares. I’ve seen him leading charges on the battlefield, too. I don’t know if he’s seen me, but I hope not.
I haven’t heard from Sil. The Entity won’t let me reach out to her, either. But I thought I saw her next to Emile, once. I hope she’s safe, or as safe as anyone can be in this broken world.
Entry 12
I caught my reflection in the mirror today when the Entity was in control. They turn my eyes this weird pale red color. It’s not even pink. They just dull my eyes.
Appropriate, I guess.
I’m twenty-one today, for whatever it’s worth.
Entry 13
The Entity can control time.
Today, I managed to break free of their control for a split second and shatter a bottle of squid ink on a table filled with valuable intelligence. I could sense how angry they were. And, of course, how angry everyone else was. Immy just about took my head off.
But then I felt a warm sensation in my chest, blinked, and somehow it was 7 AM that morning again. I saw a flicker of bright golden light for just a second before the Entity, still irritated, quickly ran through my morning tasks again and headed back to the throne room. They kept me on a tighter leash this time, and I didn’t have another chance to break free.
How did they do that?
More importantly, if they’re controlling MY body, is that something THEY can do or something I can do? Because if I’m the one who can do that…
I need to conduct some research.
Entry 14
I’m exhausted. I’ve been doing most of my research at night. The Entity has far less control at night.
I still try to stay awake all day, though. I need to keep tabs on what they’re doing with my body.
Hence why my brain is dead right now. But I need to catalog what I’ve found.
My SOUL is red. I’ve known this since I was a small child. SOUL colors are logged at age five, as soon as it’s definitely safe enough to enter into the sort of magical connection necessary for a SOUL to appear on someone’s chest.
No one else in my family has a red SOUL. Immy’s is purple, Mother’s is dark blue, and Father’s is green. (Sil, though not my family, has a yellow SOUL.)
I’ve never met anyone else, as far as I know, with a red SOUL. That’s what started me on the track of thinking that SOUL colors might be important.
According to the old texts I found in the library, all the other SOUL colors are thought to be linked to personality traits or convictions. Light blue is patience, orange is bravery, dark blue is integrity, purple is perseverance, green is kindness, and yellow is justice. But red is never labeled, not in any of the texts I looked at.
Finally, at the very back of the library, just as the sun was coming up, I found a book so old and covered in dust that I was worried I wouldn’t be able to read it before it fell apart.
That book said that red SOULs store immense power, but they’re not linked to any specific trait. Red SOULs are said to be blank slates. People used to be afraid of them, apparently, because they feared they could be possessed by demons.
Well, if the Entity isn’t a demon, I don’t know what the fuck it is.
The part I still don’t get is the “immense power” line. The only humans who can use magic are mages. I’m not a mage. I know I’m not a mage. We’re tested for that as kids.
But I’ve never tried to see if I could control time because as far as I knew, that was impossible, and it’s a little late to learn.
And there’s always the chance that this could in fact be the Entity’s power, not mine, and I’m going on a wild goose chase in the middle of a war.
I don’t have much else to do, though, do I, Jen?
[The next pages are filled with tally marks and scribbled notes in various different pencils and markers. There are drawings of SOULs on several of the pages, and spilled candle wax and dried tears adorn a few as well.]
Entry 15
Well, I still can’t make those glowing time-points. But I do actually have a surprising amount of stored magic. It was just sitting in the center of my SOUL. I would never have figured out how to access it if it weren’t for the Entity.
I’ve seen and felt them reset a couple more times since that first day, usually when they say something that they consider less than optimal. They’ll just reset and repeat that moment over and over again until it meets whatever the fuck their standards are.
We’re four years into the war, now. I skipped noting a couple of birthdays in there, somewhere, but I’m twenty-four now. Twenty-four, and there’s still a demon living in my head, forcing me to kill.
Emile’s parents were assassinated last year. Not by me, but the Entity supported it. My parents are still alive, but I’m not sure how long that will last, giving the blood-and-dust nature of the world right now.
I know Sil’s one of Emile’s top tacticians now, thanks to the intelligence the Entity has gathered. I’ve seen Camden’s war photography, including a photo of Gerson, much taller than he used to be but still just a kid, standing out in front of their home with a giant hammer in his arms. Patton’s still working on the front lines, healing as many people as he can. He still refuses to fight. I admire him so much for being able to make that choice and stick to it. I wish my hands were still clean.
Linda’s serving under Emile now, too, but as a soldier. She’s far too young for this.
Maybe we’re all too young for this.
Immy scares me the most. She still supports the war, but more out of fear than anything else. She sounds like those fearmongering men from so long ago.
She makes me wonder if the war is even the Entity’s fault.
Maybe it would have happened anyway.
Entry 16
I found my power.
But I don’t control time—or at least, I don’t know how.
I erase memories.
The Entity stayed down in the dungeons—that’s another thing we never used to have, or at least use, here, really. But anyways, the Entity stayed down in the dungeons for too long, and night fell. So, I had a little bit more control than usual.
I reached out with just a little bit of my magic and tried to make one of those glowing stars that allow the Entity to reset. Instead, one of the prisoners cried out.
“Where am I? What happened?” They looked around wildly. “Wait…WHO am I?!”
That absolutely wasn’t what I meant to do. And I couldn’t figure out how to bring the memories back. It looks like, when I erase memories, they’re gone for good.
But I needed to figure this out. I tested my power on one more prisoner and figured out that I can erase only specific memories if I try hard enough.
Writing this out, I’m shocked at myself. I’m experimenting on people. And I don’t even feel that bad about it.
What’s wrong with me? I’m so numb to suffering at this point. I’m numb to the world.
I miss Patton, Emile, Camden, and Gerson…and Sil. But they’re better off without me.
I don’t know what I can do with this power. I’ll keep fighting the Entity. Maybe I can break free. Maybe that’ll be enough.
What else can I erase?
[There’s an interval of at least twenty blank, crisp pages.]
Entry 17
It’s almost over. After five years, it’s almost over.
I managed to free myself from the Entity for now. I won’t say how because I don’t have time, but they’re not happy.
Medeis won, if you can call it that. Sil, as the monster ambassador, and I managed to get Immy to agree to seal the monsters underground rather than exterminate them. The war’s done a number on us all.
Sil still hates me. She doesn’t understand. She can’t. She never will. Neither will any of them. They’ll all hate me forever.
Sil has teamed up with a group of other mages to create the Barrier. With me, that makes seven.
The Entity doesn’t like this. They want to kill all the monsters.
I won’t let that happen.
Camden’s dead. Linda’s dead. My parents are dead. Immy, Gerson, Patton, and Emile are still alive, and so are thousands of others. You don’t get to take them too, do you hear me, you absolute sack of shit?
You think this is a game.
You think that what you do doesn’t matter.
It matters to me. It matters to Immy, and Sil, and everyone else in my world.
After we seal the monsters underground, I’m going to erase you from this world. I’ll erase you, and I’ll erase the memory of monsters and magic ever existing from the minds of every human on this planet.
I’ll almost certainly die in the process, but I don’t care. They’ll have a future, and the monsters will be safe from you and the humans like you.
There’s no future for me anymore.
You’ll have no host and no memory of your purpose or identity. You’ll be gone for good.
They’ll be safe. They’ll be safe. They’ll be safe.
I love you. All of you. More than words could ever say.
Goodbye.
- Princen Calyx of Medeis
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unikornavenger · 6 years
Text
I Don’t Want to be You Anymore
Pairing: Platonic/Romantic LAMP
Warnings: Body negativity, language (idk tell me to add)
A/N: This is sort of a vent fic? Idk this is my first fanfic I’m posting on Tumblr and I wrote it quickly listening to Billie Eilish past midnight. And I’m very tired and this is bad and I apologize.
@ethospathoslogan who actually wanted to read this shit
Alright, onward with the story!
Roman was used to feeling this way. Hating every aspect of himself was a familiar feeling. His stomach stuck out too far, his face seemed rounder than the other sides’ faces looked; he simply found himself far less attractive than all the others.
Patton had a fatherly charm always surrounding him. Virgil had a magical endearing quality about him. Logan had a pleasant mysterious vibe around him.
Roman was a dirty rock compared to them.
He appreciated how Virgil tried and failed to convincd him that they all had the same body, but Roman could never believe him.
He no longer wanted to listen to the anxious side’s lies.
On this particular Wednesday afternoon, Roman was preparing for a Sanders Sides shoot. He checked his reflection in his grand mirror and sighed at how his utterly disgusting face stared back at him.
The creative side swallowed as he pressed a hand to his large stomach. Roman wished to send it away with all his might, but to no avail.
Aggravated, he screamed, “I don’t want to be you anymore!” at his stupid face. He slowly approached the mirror blinded by rage.
Roman wanted to break it into shards. That way he would never have to see his horrible face ever again.
“Princey!” He heard as something caught his fist.
Whipping around quickly, he found himself face-to-face with Virgil. Concern that he didn’t deserve swirled in the hoodie-clad’s eyes.
He embarrassingly lost it. Roman, the apparently not-so-strong Prince, dropped to his knees in sorrow. Tears brimmed his eyes that he forced not to fall.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he repeated.
He was faintly aware of a hand being pressed against his back. “Why are you apologizing?” The words were surprisingly soft considering they were exiting Virgil’s mouth. It usually spewed out lies and strings of curses, against Patton’s liking.
“I’m so fucking ugly and I don’t, I don’t deserve to be Thomas’ side. And, and-“
“That’s bullshit and you know it.”
A wet laugh mixed with a growl was muffled by Roman’s hands covering his face as it escaped. “You’re lying. Just like you, you always d-do to make, to make me feel better.”
“He’s not lying, you know.” Roman’s tear-streaked face peeked out from behind his hands, so he could see Logan standing in his doorway with his arms crossed. “You are in no way large, besides your personality, if that’s what you’re concerned about. And even if you were, no one here would care or judge you.” He paused, “Of course, if your weight became unhealthy, I would then politely intervene. Which then all of us would help you jump over that hurdle.”
Before Roman had the chance to respond, Virgil jumped in. “We would never stop loving you, Princey.”
“Really?”
“Well, of course.” Logan answered.
Virgil used his thumb to remove a tear rolling down Roman’s face. “You will always be our strong, lovely, handsome Prince. No matter what.”
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houseofdabs · 2 years
Note
Lovely Almond!!!🥰🌸
I'm here to drop off the gush note I promised you!!!!!
I admire you so much and in so many ways. Let me count them.
Your galaxy brained creativity and the way you're so faithful with characterisations, the way you take canonical hints and weave them into heart-breaking yet so healing and tender pieces... the second (and last) time I watched House of Wax right to the end, I was crying for well over an hour, and I read the piece you wrote me with the "Vincent, please, get it out" prompt, and I swear I stopped crying so suddenly I didn't even realise in the moment. I was just so enthralled and taken with what you were writing and it's accuracy that it comforted me like nothing else.
Your art. I always choke on air or coffee when I see you've posted a new piece; doesn't matter whether it's a piece you rendered for fifteen hours or one you've made as a vent or what the medium is, it's just so beautiful and it always makes me teary eyed. I would 1000000% unironically get your artwork tattooed on me if I found the right piece (and with your permission); it's that good. Your art is incredible and you don't get half as much credit as you should.😭💔
You're always there for me and for others, always, and you deserve to receive it back in kind, too. You're very wise and I admire your thoughts on many topics and the way you articulate. You have a fun and vibrant energy but you also have a strong one, too, and when I don't know what's right or wrong (as in, should I stay up 'til midnight or should I go to bed? kinda stuff), I come to your blog and I feel better and nine times out of ten I'll end up doing what I know I should be. AND OMG WHILE I'M ON THAT THOUGHT TRAIN, YOUR MAMA'S BOY BO STUFF WITH @sweetbird-sinclair HAS ME LIVINGGGGGGGGGGGGG ~ 😍😍😍😍😍😍🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 I have you on notifications so I never miss anything you post here or on @house-of-ass; your content is just🙏🙏🙏🙏. You couldn't make a bad post if you tried!!!!
So, yes, I admire you a lot and I've been thinking of you a lot recently; yesterday with the toilet brush holder and today with the spamming of your blogs (I'm sorry not sorry🤣) and I want you to know that I'm here for you - you can vent or send in a comfort blurb request or ANYTHING and I'll do my best because you deserve nothing less!!!💗 I hope you're taking care of you and I'm sending Bo forehead kisses your way if you want them!!!💗
~ Erika.
P.S. I think I did send you a Sinclair prompt a few days ago, I'm not sure...🤔🤔🤔 But if you're looking for prompts then a feel-good moment between the brothers would be everything; they make mine and others' hearts bleed and any kind of interaction between them is good food, especially yours!😍🙏
Erika !! this is so sweet I feel like the grinch rn cause I swear my heart grew three sizes reading this. I’m so glad you enjoy what I make I really love hearing that ! Youre always and always have been so supportive and nothing but kind and every nice thing you leave under my posts makes my day and is so appreciated you don’t even know !!
(hmm you might have, I haven’t looked in my inbox for a while lol so I might just be forgetting but I will check and make sure ♥️ !!)
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Vent, If anyone actually cares enough to read.
I haven’t actually done a vent post since I don’t even know when, so here it goes.
This is the post that will literally tell you it all.
When I was growing up I never really understood why my parents didn’t talk, and to be honest to this day I don’t REALLY know the reason. I felt like they should have just divorced, I would literally cry and cry and cry all the time as I rehearsed what I would ever say to them if I ever got the chance to really speak my mind about their relationship and how it effected me. I got a chance once, and I got so mad, sadly it was through a text. I flipped out, and said you know what if you guys are going to be this way, and fight through your kids because you won’t talk, then just split. Move out from the same house, file the paperwork, and just end it. My mother said “you just don’t understand” and “there is more than just that”. I am literally almost in tears just writing about that. 
Whenever my friends brought up my parents I would just say eh, they don’t talk so who knows/cares, to everything. Therapy really got my going about them, and I realized that I had been fucked up for a long time. One time when I began therapy, and my meds and all that fucking shit, my dad basically was like oh yeah its just all his fault and all that bullshit. He didn’t agree at all with my going on meds or seeing someone for help, he still doesn’t agree and its been four years since i started the stressful journey to try and get better. 
In middle school I finally started to find more people I wanted to hang out with and started to smoke and drink. I smoked a hell of a lot in middle school and high school, and I realize now also that I preferred to be high or drunk because I didn’t have these constant depressing thoughts. To this day, I do still like to be high because it is a distraction, whereas when I get drunk I usually cry because all my life issues decide to show themselves at once. 
Middle school is also when I got my first kiss, my first make out session, my first “feel up” hah. Nothing serious. I fell hard for this boy Dan Jackson though, and god what I would give to go back to the days when I was too shy to see his parents, and just didn’t have a single care in the world other than for him. He really did make my life better for the time that we spent together. To be honest, I don’t really know why we broke up the first time that we did. I just know that we tried again in high school, and that is when I fucked up and chose Dakota (we will get to him later). Dan and I just didn’t work out in the end which is okay because he really taught me the most. He taught me that when a boy cares, he really will show it, he will hold your hand and lay in a park of grass with you to do anything, even just watch a worm after his baseball practice.. literally we did that.. that was also the first photo I ever had kissing someone, I wish I still had that.
High school started.. and shit got FUCKED up. From the very start, things were all sorts of messed up and I knew it was gonna be quite the ride. Soccer was great though, literally the only thing that kept me going was soccer. I dated Colin, oh boy, I didn’t really know anything about him other than we went to middle school together and he sat with my best friend Mitch at lunch. Never met him before a pool party that was on his birthday actually, at MaryKates aunts house. I decided that day, at the pool party, that this boy was cute and I kinda liked him a little. Got his number blah blah blah, then we dated for what maybe a week or two??? Then school started and I decided nah this guy is not for me, I thought he kissed bad (literally was his first make out or kiss or whatever so I was a mean person for thinking he kissed bad when he wasn’t experienced yet!) Anyway, we decided to stay friends, and even ended up becoming “best friends” or so we called it. This boy man, he took me for the most wicked (and not in the RI way we say wicked, meaning good, this was wicked like the witch) crazy, far from fun, roller coaster ride of my life. 
I knew he liked me, everyone knew. I just ignored it because I was more concerned about others... leading me to dating Dakota freshmen year. Dakota was awesome, I fell hard for this boy and lost my virginity to him, and he lost his to me. We had fun, well as much fun as you can have when neither of you can drive, you didn’t attend the same school, and his parents didn’t think nicely of you. Really though, we did have a ton of fun. He was always over and my mom and family (minus dad) loved him. He was goofy and literally over a foot taller than me. We broke each others hearts in the end. He really fucked me over though but honestly I don’t even want to think about that. He ended up moving to Arizona sophomore year and boy did I miss him. He told me he would write every day.. I got two letters, one he wrote before leaving and the other was mailed.. oh well. 
Sophomore year was the year that got really all messy. I realized I was boy crazy haha! Just to clear the air to anyone reading by the way, not boy crazy like OMG I was having sex with every boy haahah, I legit just liked a lot of people, and by this time I had only had sex with two people, Dakota and Dan Jackson when we got together after me and Dakota ended. 
As this all happened Colin was always fighting with me, and I was always fighting with him, about every single thing. He knew I was boy crazy and was really mean about it, but hey like I said, he liked me so of course he was gonna be mean ANYWAY. 
Then Casey came into my life. This happened in like February or March I believe. I remember Pat was away on vacation, Pat was a mutual friend we both hung with, I always was with Pat getting food or ice cream or whatever, he was my best friend, other than CoCo aka Colin. Casey and I had started to text, honestly not sure how. We decided to meet up and get breakfast, we went to the handy and i literally remember I got a bagel with cream cheese, and that he looked like something I wanted to eat more than that bagel.. and my ass legit to this day, eats a bagel with cream cheese most days!  Goddddd, I legit was like holy fuck, this boy is who I want to last. He was AMAZING, every thing I ever wanted. (Colin was ticked because it was his friend!!! hahahaha) I was sooo happy for the couple months I got to spend with this boy. I never had all the bad thoughts about my entire life while I was around him. He took my breath away, he made me feel pretty, he kissed me in the hallway after school for everyone to see. I was literally love struck. Never did we say we loved each other, because it wasn’t love just yet. We were just really happy together. 
Spring break came. I was going on a school trip to Costa Rica, Casey sadly was not coming, but Colin was. Casey and I met up before I had to go to Rogers to meet the bus for midnight. Casey has just gotten his license not too long before so he picked me up and we went for a drive, happiest most amazing most exciting (in my pants, sadly no full on sex on that ride haahah just a lot of touching) car ride ever. Then he kissed me so sweetly goodnight and it was that night, that, that fucking night, that  I had my last kiss with Casey Harrington. If i knew that I would have changed how everything went down following that kiss, and that week that was coming. 
In Costa Rica Colin kept trying to get with me, he knew I was with Casey, and mind you he had a girlfriend! A girl on the trip made a phone call home and low and behold it got to Casey that Colin and I were hooking up.. WE WERE NOT. Shit was all fucked up now, I confronted the girl and basically was like FUCK YOU, YOU LYING FUCK. This trip was the first time Colin saw me cry, and it was because things were over now and I could not change it all the way in Costa Rica. I cried for real, and he cried also, though I bet he would deny that. We kissed that night and decided well, if they think we hooked up fuck it. WE DID NOT HAVE SEX  we made out. THAT IS ALL. MADE OUT. 
I got home to a lot of mean messages from more than one person. I had Colin and I had Pat ( and Steph, she was there through all of this though we had a rough patch about Dakota...). I was a mess, I missed Casey, and told Colin I was going to try to get him back. It didn’t work, although once I saw him out and he kissed me right on the fore head and told me he was sorry and regretted not taking me to prom.. I almost cried in front of the world that night. 
I got with Colin. We ended up dating. He was fucked up, and I was fucked up. Mentally. We fought all the time, literally allll the time. But people loved us together and always were saying they knew we would date, and probably get married one day. FUCK NO. I was in the midst of literally breaking down all the time, and I definitely became depressed during this relationship. I do not blame my depression fully on Colin but some of it was him. We were on and off, and really happy at times. We went out on dates, my family loved him (again minus my dad). His family definitely didn’t like my shyness but oh well. 
In the end we broke up after Junior year, he talked shit to all my guy friends about me. They all stopped talking to me. Until after high school when most stopped caring and we became acquaintances again. Colin told everyone I was a “dead fish” and well to him I just never wanted to be on top during sex. He legit made me feel bad about myself. Why would I want to do something where he could again, judge me. Literally, he made me never ever want to be on top, he ruined my self esteem and made me hate myself more than I already did.
We were both fucked up and nuts. He hated me and I hated him. But we were so in love with each other at the same time. This summer my dog passed away, I got into my first car accident, got my first speeding ticket. Then I beat a girl up because they hooked up, and he got out of my car because of a boy I was hooking up with to go punch him in the face... literally nuts. 
I spent my entire, ENTIRE, summer before senior year, drunk as hell. Me and Taylor, and then Danny G came into the crew. Danny and I started hooking up, I took his virginity, we were both a bit drunk that night, but we kept hooking up, even sober hhaha. Danny and I kept things up and were together all the time, either at my house or Steph’s or his or just in the car, for the whole summer and a little more after summer. Sadly one day I decided i still kinda felt for Colin and that didn’t sit well with him, I still feel bad about that. 
God, I was so fucked up. Between my parent’s hating each other, Colin and I hating each other, and me realizing that I was insane, I was depressed and full of fucking rage! Soccer started and I was happy again, I got my anger out through the sport. The breakfast club began when Soccer did and that saved my life. We were high all the time, and drunk most weekends. We threw parties and we just raged like best friends did. Mary, Laura, Lily, Mattea, and Myself. I would never change the friendship we all had together for anything. Ups and downs. Those girls had my back. We all were boy crazy and we all had fun. I was definitely still relying on weed and alcohol though. I was back to crying all the time, every night, just sad and literally wishing I was dead. 
Colin was in a few of my classes to start senior year, and I was not happy but whatever I dealt with it, and we just kept away. He started being a complete dick after a few months in. He would flick me off every day and just literally be RUDE AS FUCK to me. I had to ignore it and just act like it didn’t bother me.
Cocaine came into my life senior year, I fucking loved it. I didn’t do it too much, just when there were big parties or there were dances. I loved it, but like I said nothing crazy came from that. (I mean I am still alive and not addicted to drugs or anything so I am doing well even though I am a depressed mess.)
I got with Shane around Christmas.. he doesn’t matter though, he cheated on me. I just loved that he would buy me alcohol. LOL
I went to college the next year. I started soccer at Salve, and welp, I quit. I fucked myself over and literally RUINED my life. I regret that. Quitting soccer and going on that Costa Rica trip, those are the two regrets I have in life. 
Days are passing and Dan V. comes into my life. We fall soooo hard for each other. I left Salve for two reasons. One I wanted to see Dan more, so URI it was. And two, I could not take the pain of seeing the soccer girls, and knowing, how fucking bad I fucked up.  Dan made/makes me so happy. He is always there and never made me feel bad about myself or self conscious about sex or anything like Colin did. 
Fast forward to the end of Freshman year. I failed all but one class, and got kicked out of college. I was so fucking fucked up about this. I cried and said I would never go back. But dad and I wrote that letter to appeal it. I got back in following the medical tests I decided to go through with to see wtf was happening to me. 
I had gotten all the medical testing done, I was diagnosed with, extreme depression, chronic anxiety, ADHD, and my Auditory processing speed was below 95% of my peers. I realized that day, when I read that packet and I cried in my car that I really did need help. 
Now jump to the middle of Sophomore year of college.
I went to therapy, I got the meds, I did it all.
Nothing fucking changed.
I wanted to die.
I got drunk EVERY SINGLE day.
I barley ate, and I really only wanted to go to the gym. 
I got skinny. Too skinny at one point.
But fuck it right???
Senior year of College, aka my Super Senior year, I went back to Coke a little bit, and did it a lot more than before but still I was not addicted just trying to forget shit and be happy. I got drunk again, every single day, and just did not give two fucks about anything. 
Now here I am. 23, I made it out of college even while I was and still am depressed. I am going back to school at PC, even though I have a BA in English and a MA cert in TEFL. 
I am still insanely depressed and it is getting so so so bad again. I can’t seem to sleep. My migraines are getting intense, and happening DAILY. I still have Dan by my side and I am so thankful for him. But man, I honestly just wish I killed myself way back then. I still pray that one day things will get easier for me, and that I will beat depression, and I will just not have anxiety. That won’t ever happen though. 
I just need things to look up for me. But I guess I need to be able to look up also for that to happen. 
As you can see, I was completely boy crazy. I was overly in love at some points, mostly with Colin. I was bat shit crazy because I was depressed and for the longest time did not know it. 
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talysalankil · 4 years
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talys’s great nanowrimo 2019 debacle: the post
i felt like being grandiose, just not grandiose enough that I’d properly capitalize things. bear with me.
So I’ve had a bit of a time figuring out what to do for NaNoWriMo this year. So it’s venting time.
I’m also using this to do like, a status report on all my writing endeavors.
Okay so I haven’t had any new novel idea in a while now. I mean, that’s fine. I have a massive pile of WIPs anyway. But (and I think I already made a post about it earlier) the problem for nanowrimo was this:
I didn’t want to do a rewrite of any of the existing drafts:
FEITS v3 was paused at about halfway done in 2017, and while I’ve had a bunch of ideas for it, I haven’t really taken the time to work on them.
Psychopomp’s first draft is complete, but it could use a rewrite
Tangled Stars and Dragged to the Underworld are about 50k each with a missing third act
Eloped in the Night is a 15k word mess that needs major rewriting because it was still Brooding Lust when I wrote those)
Of these five books, four have planned sequels, but: I didn’t want to write a sequel, since none of them anywhere near a final stage. That being
FTEITS (for which I wrote like 30k of a first draft of book 2, most of which is good for the trash what with all the changes I’ve made), 
Psychopomp, whose sequel would have been the best candidate in this category honestly because I don’t think the rewrites would be super structural
Eloped/Dragged are part of the same universe though mostly standalones, but each of the subsequent books in that series would draw from one or both of these, and like I said, neither are even a complete first draft.
While I have a bunch of fic ideas, I didn’t want to do a fic for nanowrimo because it felt like cheating.
Which left me with um…like, nothing. Well, not quite.
So you may or may not know this (I kind of forget where I put information online) but my first draw to storytelling was actually video games. In broad strokes, here’s a quick history of that:
As a very young child (we’re talking 4-8 years old here), I’d play pretend with my plushies
When I got Crash Bandicoot 2 (one of my first video games I was really into), I started to imagine various games where my plushies would be the protagonists. Inspired by Crash, Zelda, other games…I remember once outlining a 15-part series of games around my favorite plushy, each of which was basically subdivided into chunks of different genres. I even invented a “dark age of the franchise”.
When I got Final Fantasy X and then got another gaming magazine with a walkthrough of Final Fantasy X, I started inventing a self-insert game based heavily on it, and wrote most of my ideas in the format of a walkthrough. I even parroted the editing style because I was like nine.
That story was iterated upon several times, and eventually yielded the character of Talys Alankil (well, sort of—the name actually originated in Guild Wars and was then repurposed. Somewhere in the lore, the two of them are like, extremely distant relatives, or were until I decided all copyrighted works were purged from canon). Thanks for creating my brand, 13 and 15-year-old mes.
I actually got into computer engineering because of games, except I then realized the storytelling was what interested me. Oops. I mean I like programming but I’d never want to work as a programmer in a game.
That tangent was completely pointless but whatever, this is the state of the talys post.
Anyway. Point is. I got a new idea for a game earlier this year. Life Is Strange 2 meets Octopath Traveler by way of Vanitas from Kingdom Hearts as the protagonist. This is the first time I have an idea that I can phrase in this kind of pitch so I’ll indulge. Fight me.
Working title is just “The Road” though obviously it needs some work, and over the past few months I’ve actually done some pretty good prep work, so I thought, hey, why not challenge myself this nanowrimo and write a script for a game instead of a novel!
And like, there’s no reason why not. I’m actually feeling pretty attached to the protagonist already, I’ve been wanting to try scrivener’s script writing tool, it could be fun. Of course, the problem is that a script for a game (especially this one) is inerently nonlinear and requires thorough planning, which I have not done. And nanowrimo starts…technically tomorrow night if I can still stay up past midnight.
[Second tangent time: I’ve been going for a teaching degree, which has forced me to reset my sleep schedule extremely hard and I hate it]
So that brings me option 2. Well, technically there are two options here, but only one that’s remotely viable.
I may have mentioned it before but in FTEITS, Adam and Cell bond over (among other things) a shared favorite book/author. Well, mostly a book. There is also a scene of Adam finding that author’s new book and experiencing nostalgia over his lost life, which may or may not survive the rewrites. The author, incidentally, is my self-insert in that world, and will also not be an active character in the plot of the books, but I just felt like mentioning it. And yes, that means my protagonists are fans of my work. Sue me.
The one they’re both a fan of is titled Snow to Ashes (I remember way way back, when I randomly picked a title “The Brain is Out”, before I had any idea what it was about). It is, incidentally, a chance to analyze Adam and Cell’s character arc by proxy and in a microcosm, which is good because I feel that sometimes their arcs are still kind of ill-defined. Basically the story has two protagonist and it is canon that Adam and Cell each relate more to one of them.
The problem with that is that now I’m getting a lot of ideas for Snow to Ashes, and I don’t know if I have the time to work all of these ideas and iron them out before nanowrimo starts.
So that’s where I’m at. Either way I will be pantsing it. I was hoping to get to do some outlining this week before Friday, but it turns out that being tired, having a pretty big spike of executive dysfunction, final fantasy 14, and my parents deciding to watch the TV again after years of not doing it (thus making noise at the time of day that would be perfect for me to write), is not fertile grounds for productivity. I am, incidentally, out of a FF14 subscription in four days, which is very fine by me since that game would also ruin nanowrimo itself, not just the pre-nano prep.
This isn’t really a request for feedback tbh, just, like I said, venting. Hoping to straighten my thoughts and figure out which choice is best.
As a PS i should mention that yes, the Talys Alankil game is also technically a writing option, and I could write a script for that. I mean it’s almost a rewrite because that one has a pretty rigid outline already, but. Yeah. It’s an option too.
Edited: I didn’t mention Malefacta. I didn’t forget about malefacta. I just don’t know what to do with Malefacta. It’s annoying.
Edited2: Remember when I almost wrote a superhero book for nanowrimo 2017? yeah that’s still a project I have somewhere. I’m no feeling it though. Sorry, superhero project. You were never meant to be, I guess.
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victakestaipei · 7 years
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Frustrated and Exhausted: My First Day of Class Recap
I am emotionally exhausted. It’s just been an exhausting day. It’s about midnight now and I just finished finding myself crying to my mom on skype video chat. 
Here’s why:
Today was the first day of classes. As I’ve mentioned in previous posts (but for those of you who don’t know), I am in an intensive course for my Chinese class here in Taipei. I have class for three hours, from 10:15-1:15pm, Mon-Friday. 
I woke up this morning around 8, so that I could leave the dorm by 9.. I met Nick and Jeannie downstairs (they have the same class start time as me), and we headed to a small breakfast shop right outside the campus gates. We sat and ate and talked about our plans for the day...
Nick and I arrived at our classroom maybe 5 minutes before class started. We signed in and said our awkward “hello’s” to our fellow classmates. Or I guess you would call them awkward “ni hao’s”... The teacher walked in, introduced herself, and class began.
We went over the rules of the course, as well as did alot of introductory conversation (where we’re all from, what made us want to learn chinese, how long we’ve been taking classes, etc). But, one of the rules of the class was that we could not speak any other language other than Chinese (there are some Indonesians, one Swiss guy, and three of us Americans in the class). Our class size totals at a whopping 7 people. There’s no room to hide.
Our teacher is charismatic, funny, engaging, helpful, and encourages alot of dialogue.  I really think I’m going to like her.. but the part about class that’s a bit difficult is the reading and writing of the traditional Chinese characters.
Which brings me to my “emotionally exhausted” aspect of the day... With learning Chinese, there are two ways to write the Chinese characters-- There’s the simplified way of writing the words, and the traditional. The traditional way is basically the more complex way of writing the character, and is how the character was originally written when the language first came about. And the simplified way is, you guessed it, the easier and more shortcut way of writing the same character.
For instance this word, meaning “country”:
國 = this is the traditional way of writing the character
and this is the simplified way of writing the same character:
Or another example is this word, meaning “to help”:
幫 = this is the traditional way
vs the simplified:
See how they differ? And see how the simplified word is way less strokes/easier to write?
When I was young and first starting out on my Mandarin journey, I had mostly all Taiwanese teachers, so they taught me the traditional way of reading and writing characters... But, as I grew older and started taking Mandarin classes in high school and college, I was converted to simplified characters because that is the new “modern/shortcut” way of writing. So basically the Taiwanese people, and some areas of Southern China and Hong Kong, all still use traditional characters. But, for the last 6 or so years, I’ve been studying simplified...
My stay here in Taipei has been a bit harder than I imagined because when reading the characters and signs on the streets, they are all traditional characters, which I don’t really recognize as well. When speaking to other people, I can understand because it’s oral. But when it comes to reading and writing, that’s where the struggle begins. 
So back to class... The reason I feel exhausted is because I feel as though I’ve been studying this language and devoting all of these years to learning, and it’s all been for nothing. I feel as though I’m back to square one, even though I started learning Chinese long before alot of my peers. I know I shouldn’t compare myself to others, but it’s hard not to when they’ve been studying for four or so years, and you’ve been studying since you were four years old... yet you can’t read or write. It’s embarrassing ya know?
We have a quiz tomorrow which is stressing me out more than it should. Simply because the quiz is on a section of dialogue from the book, but the quiz is a dictation quiz. Meaning that tomorrow morning, our teacher is going to read the dialogue out loud, and we are expected to write the characters (traditional characters) line by line, including the tones, as she’s talking. I’m already stressed because I feel like I’m going to fail the very first quiz and I know I’m smarter than that. So I’ve been spending the earlier part of the evening rewriting the vocabulary and dialogue over and over again with traditional characters in an effort to re-learn how to write and read. 
It’s exhausting. And frustrating. I know that everyone learns at their own pace and all that jazz, but I just wish I would’ve kept learning the traditional, or that my teachers in high school/college would have at least given me the option of learning both. I can’t read a lot of the characters on restaurant menus, street signs, etc let alone the words in the book, even though when I hear them aloud I know what they mean. 
Anyway, I just wrote this post to vent a bit... I know it’s lengthy and all-words but I just don’t feel up for inserting gifs and funny pictures to die down the seriousness. Sorry about that. I know it’ll eventually get easier and re-learning the traditional characters will benefit me in the long run, I just wish I didn’t have to work so dang hard when I have already devoted all of these years of my life to this culture. It’s emotionally exhausting. But then again maybe I just need to cut myself a break.
I’ll come back with an update on how the quiz went.
until then, xoxo
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loulougoingsolo · 7 years
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...
This is going to be, yet again, one of those posts that have very little to do with anything other than my personal life, so feel free to ignore this, if you’re here for R&L stuff. I’m just gonna vent a little...
I wrote a poem a few nights ago. I usually write my poems first in my own language and then, maybe, translate them to English. This time, with this one, I wrote directly in English, because this poem was intended to be posted here. I lacked the words to say what I wanted, so I didn’t post this immediately as I had planned. Just a few minutes ago I noticed this poem in my saved files, and as I read it again, I felt that even though it’s far from perfect, I should post it. If not for anyone else, then for myself, because there are many things I said that I should remember every day.
There are days, when the shadows hide the sun. But it’s out there, just waiting to come out.
All you need is a little breeze, to push the clouds away. The sun ain’t gone forever, it’s just taking a quick break.
Even if it’s night time, and your candle’s lost its flame, all it takes is a flicker for you to see again.
There’s always someone out there, to help you start the fire, and once the candle’s burning, there’s love to feed the flames.
You are not alone. You are loved and appreciated, You are beautiful, You are important. 
And you will survive through the darkness back into the light. <3
Under the break is what I wrote before reading my poem to myself, so you may want to leave it unread.
So, my therapy session for this week was cancelled, because my therapist is sick. I thought I could handle it well enough, since I’ve had some better moments recently, despite all the crap that’s going on in my life. There are good days, and there are bad days, and then there are the worst days. Most days suck, to be honest, but then something nice happens, and I briefly feel a bit better, so I think that that particular day was a good day. Recently the good stuff in my life has mostly happened online, which alone is kind of sad, but I take happy when I get it, and I don’t care where it comes from.
I’m still stuck at my parents’ house, because my own house was flooded and I currently don’t have a kitchen but a square shaped hole in the middle of my home. I’m going to be stuck here for a while, it seems, while the structures in my late kitchen dry and all the stuff can be rebuilt. This is my beautiful kitchen, which I singlehandedly renovated a couple of years ago on a minimal budget. I know it’s all just material, but I thought of it as my own creation, and the house was really one of the few places on earth where I could be myself and stay safe. Along with the kitchen I lost my camera and a lot of stuff that on its own would be insignificant, but put altogether, feels like a big loss. Well, yeah.
A few nights ago, my bed here at my parents’ house broke. It can be fixed, but I haven’t had the energy or the time to do it yet, so I’ve been sleeping on a sofa in our living room. My dad usually spends most of his waking hours on that sofa, so I’ve done my best to stay up until he decides to go to bed, and since he usually gets up first in the morning, I’ve done my best to wake up before he wants to turn on the tv. Last night I slept for four hours before our dog woke my up by throwing up on the rug next to the sofa and I had to get up and clean the mess.
After drinking a mugful of coffee (which I hate but drink to stay awake) I had to go help my mom clean up a cottage my parents rent for paying customers. I’m broke, so I can’t pay my parents for living with them, so I help them out where I can. I don’t usually mind doing it, but today all I could think about was how tired I was. Now, as it’s almost midnight, my dad finally turned off the tv and went to bed, which means I’m free to call it a day.
None of the things I just wrote really mean anything. The things that mean more are the little ways my dad has been telling me how useless I am during this week. Not only do I waste my life by doing nothing, but these past few days I’ve also been called fat and lazy (both probably true). Every night I’ve been reminded of how yet another day has gone by without me fixing my bed (well, yeah, true). I’ve been told in numerous ways that my presence in this house is unwanted. All of this breaks me sometimes, and right now I feel a little shattered. And I really hope my therapist gets better soon, so I can go cry to her instead of whining about my life online.
I try my best to be happy and bring joy to other people’s lives. There are days, when I’m just tired of smiling and being positive, and I accuse myself for all the things I do wrong. I try not to upset others, but I accidentally seem to do it all the time, when all I try to do is make things better. I know I should probably have written all this into my personal diary, and honestly, the only reason I chose not to, was the fact that I’m too tired to write by hand and this was easier. And maybe, next time my home gets flooded, at least I’ll know that all my sorry ramblings will be safe in the everlasting world of internet, instead of getting soggy somewhere in the real world.
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onetruejonsey · 4 years
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Filling your inbox. ANSWER ALL OF THE QUESTIONS.
I hate you so much right now. THIS POST IS LONG PEOPLE. IF you make it to the end, you are wonderful, and I love you!
1. After coming home from a bit of a tiring day at work, I got to chill, drive a little and get some shopping, do some housework. Literally love coming home to you and doing stuff with you, it da best!
2. 10 years? My own house with you as mah waife! And apparently twins too, so that'll be fun!
3. House. Hands down. My own garden, more than one floor, perfect!
4. Yes, I have mellowed a lot lately, so my old aesthetic of bright and vibrant has been muted somewhat, it still breaks through every now and again though. Literally anything orange does it for me.
5. I'm proud of being a guitarist for over 20 years now, I still suck, but I know my Knights of Cydonia is often requested!
6. Easy, Sourcery by Terry Pratchett, Mogworld by Yahtzee Croshaw, and The World According to Clarkson by Jeremy Clarkson
7. I've literally only ever listened to one podcast my whole life, so it has to go to My Dad Wrote A Porno! So many laughs had from that!
8. Only 3? Damn, well Walking Disaster by Sum 41, Still Into You by Paramore, and Heart Explodes by The Darkness!
9. 'Family don't end with blood'. Ahhhh Bobby Singer you wise idjit.
10. I don't like the Harry Potter franchise. Come at me.
11. Oh god, the 80s, and probably still England, the music, the clothes. That'd be me all set!
12. My ideal date would be a calm, quiet evening, a nice meal, a couple of drinks, catch a show if there's time, and enjoy a gentle walk and the company afterwards.
13. Yes. My fianceè, then Ryan Reynolds, and Jonny Hawkins. In that order. Sorry darling, but have you seen those two? ;)
14. Probably Gordon Ramsay, I actually think he'd be one hell of a laugh, plus I'm foul mouthed like he is, the prick.
15. Usually I'm sleeping by midnight, and at the moment I'm up by 7.15, then off to work!
16. Hey, gotta be the guitar, like I said before, been playing for over 20 years now!
17. Well, ever since GOTG, I've always danced along to Come and Get Your Love, by Redbone. HEYEYYY HEYEYYY!
18. I wish I knew a hell of a lot more about makeup. I find it fascinating, but god I'm terrible with it!
19. Random fact? I have my birthmark that looks like a Rice Krispie if that's any good?
20. Fruit:Apple, Veg:Peas
21. I love making hunter's chicken, Jones style, I'd love to make it again sometime!
22. Cherry 7UP! But you can't get it anymore and that makes me sad!
23. Right now, a bit pumped up, but I have a playlist running as I type this!
24. I'm currently re-reading the latest Jeremy Clarkson book, he makes some interesting points, and I find him quite funny
25. Oh. Erm. See You Again by Charlie Puth (it was the first song on my radio after I went to my friend Jay's funeral), Good Riddance by Green Day (I just love that song to pieces), and The One by Theory of A Deadman (the Savages album came out when I was in one of my darkest periods of my life, and I needed it more than I realised)
26. I fucking love winter, I love the cold!
27. I mean, darling? Are you really asking me that? 'Cause you bought me a cake! :p
28. Either headphones on, music up, or talk to m'lady! I loves you, and you're a good vent buddy!
29. A little of both, it depends on the event in question really!
30. Every time, the meeting with my old boss when I handed my notice in, because I was WAY too polite and nice, and I should've been a bigger bastard than I ever have been.
31. I do, I've been asked this before, and I don't see any other name when I look at myself!
32. Snow. Get my face in that and I'm happy!
33. At the moment yeah, planning a wedding, honeymoon, work's good, other things are falling in place!
34. First time I went to London on my own, I don't normally travel far, and that was freaking me out, but I made it where I needed to be!
35. I think the only one I can think of is Of Mice and Men. That's about it!
36. Home. Or somewhere where I can walk and it's quiet!
37. Sorry darling, but you made noises in your sleep and they were really cute, I had a little giggle!
38. It is now 12.05. AM. Need to sleep now.
39. (Not sleeping by the way) The 16th of October 2021. 'CAUSE I'M GETTING MARRIED!
40. Hopefully we'll go to London for LFCC, maybe meet some famous faces!
41. I don't think I ever have, maybe in passing, but never intentionally...
42. Comedy. It's me, I'm a total nutter come on!
43. Tea. Spill it! I kid. But seriously that caffeine intolerance would kill me if she could....
44. My body is....of larger proportions, my head is a unique size, and my legs would suit a rugby player. Picture that if you can yeah!.....
45. Honestly anything that Jonathan Young does is golden to me. That man makes Disney Metal. DISNEY. METAL.
46. Yeaaaaaaaah, I mean, they're not sick of me yet so I'm doing things right!
47. Yes and I'm putting a ring on it!
48. Little of both, I like to have traits we can debate on!
49. Muted colours, unless it's orange, autumn and snow together, loud music.
50. Life on Mars by Bowie
Under And Over It by 5FDP
The Cleansing by Nothing More
Fantasy by DYE
Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol (OH MY GOD GAVIN AND STACEY)
Something Wild by Lindsey Stirling
Wait for Me by Theory Of A Deadman
Summer by Sum 41
Superluv by Shane Dawson
Far Away by Nickelback
Right. I AM FINISHED @mist-over-water are you happy now? READ ALL OF MY ANSWERS.
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saltymyrmidon · 6 years
Text
6. sibling!inigo/lucina; feawakening; 1836 words
notes: -So I forgot that I needed to post something today because I’ve been busy with anime cons so here I am -I wrote this like six months ago -You can find the previous two chapters/oneshots of this sibling!lucina/inigo fic on fanfiction if you know where to find it -I started writing it again because I really love their sibling dynamic almost as much as I love the actual ship, but it has been ages since I played awakening and so I never finished it! -I probably screwed up the plot! Who knows! I’m not surprised!
There are times when Inigo wishes he wasn’t a prince.
It’s stupid, right? It’s cheesy and embarrassing. But as much as the idea makes him cringe, he can’t help but think about it sometimes. In his rare moments of spare time, between fighting and trying not to let down his country or his sister or trying to uphold his father’s memory or struggling to be something his mother might be proud of, Inigo will allow himself to dream.
He doesn’t expect anyone else to understand. Owain is constantly boasting of his royal blood and, in the rare moments that he actual drops his games, has confessed that he really does take pride in his heritage and his brand. This leaves Lucina—Lucina is the only one that he could truly go to and he has a couple times back when they were younger, back when death wasn’t constantly knocking on Ylisse’s door. But his sister is so determined—she faces her problems with the same stoic grace she faces everything, and she puts aside all her worries or needs for the sake of her kingdom, and she is so goddamned perfect that Inigo doesn’t dare vent to her at all these days. 
There is no time to vent, anyway. There is no time to do much of anything. The Risen push in towards Ylisstol, ever closer, and the surrounding countryside is in shambles. But still people pour into the city, refugees looking for healing and shelter. This war is getting nowhere. They are accomplishing nothing—just pushing back the inevitable.
There is no time for dreams anymore. There is no time for anything anymore. Despite their best efforts, no one can seem to get any sleep, and tensions are frayed. Cynthia loses the bounce to her step, and Owain starts confusing the names of his attacks. Kjelle and Severa will spend hours trading arguments. Yarne shrieks at any sort of small noise and he and Noire can often be found in tears. Graceful Inigo, ever the dancer, trips over his own feet one morning and nearly impales himself on his own sword. Their own exhaustion is going to get themselves killed one of these days, and all this does is stress them out more. The team is breaking and Ylisstol is crumbling and the Risen inch ever closer and they can’t figure out how to stop it.
Late one evening, Lucina gathers the few of them who are not even attempting to sleep and asks them to meet with her in the weapons room. Inigo trails behind her into a room that looks much more like a storage closet. Weapons of every sort are crammed onto every available surface. The room has barely enough space for a broken table and two chairs.
Severa is here, and so is Kjelle, and Gerome and Laurent. Yawning, Inigo sits up on the table and stretches one arm over his head, trying to play off his exhaustion the best he can. “Luce, what are we doing?”
Lucina shuts the door and leans her back against it, shutting her eyes. Her skin looks paper-white in the flickering candlelight; a brownish-yellow healing bruise snakes up her arm into her shirt, and even ignoring the lighting Inigo can see the dark circles under her eyes. Lucina has always been the best of all of them—always moving, always with a plan or a speech or something. But she’s as exhausted as the rest of them.
The look on her face is frightening. Despite how much he wants to claim otherwise, Inigo is the younger brother, and with their parents gone, she’s all he has. Lucina is his constant in this disaster of a world; seeing her scared only reminds him how truly terrifying their situation is.
“This isn’t working,” Severa guesses, breaking the stunned silence that has settled over the room. Lucina does not move; she does not acknowledge Severa’s words. Doing so would admit defeat, and Lucina will never give up.
“We need another plan,” Laurent rephrases. He’s holding the same book he’s been reading for the past five days. Inigo knows it’s the same book because he’s caught him reading out loud to himself in the library well after midnight, only to grow frustrated and throw it across the room as he realizes he can’t comprehend anything. “Protecting Ylisstol is a noble cause for sure, but it is like placing a simple bandage over an infection. We are not treating the wound’s cause. Effectively, we are doing nothing.”
“We’re protecting the people,” Kjelle snaps. “That is far from nothing.”
Inigo sighs. He’s tired of Kjelle and Severa snapping at every little comment. He’s tired of the others’ stoicism towards their arguments. He’s just tired. He sighs in exasperation, impatience creeping into his voice despite his best attempts to hide it. “You know what he meant, love. If you would just take a moment—”
Kjelle scowls. Normally her glare would be frightening, but right now he’s too tired to care. “I told you to stop calling me that, you little—”
“Did you have a plan already in mind? Or did you need us to help come up with ideas?”
Inigo blinks, turning around to see that Gerome has found a place to make himself invisible in a corner, somewhere between racks of axes and lances. He ignores the room’s surprise; he is focused on Lucina, who finally opens her eyes, blinking as some of her usual resolve flickers back into them.
“I had an idea,” she confirms. “I wanted to ask a few of you before I brought it up to everyone.”
“About what?” Inigo asks. What could she be thinking of? They’ve exhausted all their options just keeping Ylisstol standing. Even if Laurent is right, and they need to go after the source, they are no match for Grima—their parents proved that a long time ago. If not fighting the Fell Dragon directly, then— “You don’t mean—”
“The rite,” Lucina finishes with a nod.
Severa crosses her arms. “I thought all the gemstones were missing, and that’s why we’ve never tried it.”
“The gemstones are missing,” Lucina confirms, “Along with the Emblem, but… we have an idea of where they might be. Lady Tiki gave us an idea.”
“An idea? So we aren’t sure?” Kjelle asks.
“There’s no way of pinpointing their exact location. But if we know around where they are, we can do some investigating and look around and—”
Kjelle cuts her off. “It might be a wild goose chase. For all we know, Grima’s got the gemstones and the Emblem already. Who’s saying the rite would do anything anyway? If we leave Ylisstol unprotected, the city’s done for!”
Inigo jumps off the table. He’s tired of all the complaining, and the look of doubt that flickers in his sister’s eyes is the thing that finally breaks him. “Do you have a better idea?” He snaps, ignoring the way everyone’s eyes turn to him. “When are you going to realize that sitting around complaining isn’t going to change anything? We know we need a better plan! We know that we could end up with nothing! But we’ve got to do something, before we all end up killing each other before the Risen finally get us! So if you’ve got an better plan, Kjelle, I’d be glad to hear it.” Tirade over, he finally realizes that everyone is still staring at him; face flushed, he returns to his place at the table.
“…I’m sorry,” Kjelle whispers, her voice surprisingly small. “I’m sorry, Inigo. I didn’t mean—”
“I’m sorry,” he answers. “I didn’t mean to yell, love.” He adds on the diminutive in an attempt to get a rise out of her, and he does get a small smile in response.
“The gemstones,” Laurent says over the silence that has settled over the group.
Lucina snaps back to attention. “Yes. Lady Tiki says they’re scattered across the continent. Finding them… it’s not going to be easy.” She frowns again. There’s something hiding behind her expression. The team trades gazes across the weapons room; they all know what she’s thinking, but it is Severa who finally brings it up.
“We’re going to have to split up,” she says. “It’d take too long to reach them if we all traveled in a group.”
Lucina nods. “…Yes.”
“Well, we decide teams in the morning then, yeah?”
Lucina blinks, glancing back around the room. “You… we all agree? This is our plan?”
Severa scowls, flipping a ponytail over her shoulder and placing a hand on her hip. “Well, it’s like the prince says. No one’s got any better ideas, so what do you expect us to do?”
“We should talk in the morning, with everyone,” Kjelle says. “That would be the best time to decide teams.”
Kjelle’s words are an unspoken dismissal. Lucina steps to the side so that Kjelle and Severa can disappear into the hallway; Laurent and Gerome move a bit slower, but they follow in the direction of their rooms. Eventually, Inigo and Lucina are the only ones left. He jumps off the table again, this time deciphering his sister’s expression.
“Go to bed, sis,” he says when she does not move. With a smile, he adds, “Or else I’ll have to follow you, and then I’ll almost stab myself again, and Owain will never let me hear the end of it.”
“Don’t joke about things like that,” Lucina admonishes, but she gives him a small smile. The smile wavers as she takes a final glance around the weapons room. “Severa was right,” she says. “I never thought about how we would have to split up… Maybe this isn’t a good idea. I could be sending everyone to their deaths, and…”
“Luce.”
She looks up at him. She is worried, and while her fear does scare him a little, he does his best to hide it. She trusts him enough to show her true emotions when the others have gone away. Just like when he would complain about being royalty to her back when they were kids, Lucina is confiding in him now. So Inigo hides his fear the best he can, hoping that maybe he can be half as much a comfort for his sister as she is for him. “Everyone knows what they are getting themselves into. We’ve always known. We all want the same thing, and we’re going to do whatever it takes to get it. You aren’t leading us anywhere we wouldn’t already want to go.”
Lucina shakes her head, and her smile appears a bit more real this time. “You’re right,” she agrees. “Well, at any rate, we will figure out something in the morning. We should try to get some sleep.”
“Of course.” He follows his sister out of the room. No soldiers come to interrupt them and they do not speak much. It’s one of those brief moments that they have to themselves—where Inigo allows himself to think that maybe they do not have to be prince and princess, but just brother and sister.
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