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vesora · 5 months

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Hi Sora! Thank you so much for your advice and help! I’m sorry for the long post ahead, please feel free to ignore me if you find the post too chunky.

I checked out RealityWarpingg and saw a post that goes like this “And if right now, I could 100% drop my belief in the possibility of failure, success would be the only thing that I would experience for the rest of my life” and I kinda see what you mean by “If self is perfect and you are self then why wouldn’t everything be perfect”. I’m not sure if I’m understanding it correctly, please correct me if you see a problem.

It’s the self that gives the reality to the experience. I’m so afraid of letting the problem go because I think once I let it go, the body and mind will suffer from hell knows what problems. Back in loass, I always have this and that method to do to “fulfill” myself so that I think I’m working towards something, so the world won’t burn because of me doing nothing. All these thoughts were because I identify myself as the ego, the ego thinks she has to do xyz or the world will doom. But if I stop identifying myself as the ego, and start to know who the true self is, I just drop the problem, and it will disappear, like literally disappear, in the example I stated before it’s “dropping out of school doesn’t exist, everything is perfect because the self is perfect”.

This is my understanding till now, please correct me if I made a mistake!

Writing this down arises another two question:

1. so how would the problem be resolved? By the belief or the love the self has? Because Self loves all of her creations?

2. I remembered reading a post of Ada several days ago, I don’t remember the exact words, and based on my understanding I remembered the overall meaning as something like “you have to accept the worst situation that might happen to the you, have the courage to face what the ego fears”. I’m sorry if I misunderstood what her meant, please ignore it if you find this sentence ridiculous. Did she mean “only when we are open to accept the worst situation do we let go the ego”? Because if we don’t see ourselves as the ego, we won’t be bothered by the problem it’s facing, then the problem flies away because we don’t give it reality? Or did she mean “let the ego deal with the problem, it’s not my problem, let the ego suffer because it’s all just a dream”. I think this is not what she meant because this is duality, but I’m not sure of my understanding.

Thank you Sora, for your help and time! Apologies for the long post, I’m really bad at concluding my thoughts lol.

hello again love!

I’m so afraid of letting the problem go because I think once I let it go, the body and mind will suffer from hell knows what problems. Back in loass, I always have this and that method to do to “fulfill” myself so that I think I’m working towards something, so the world won’t burn because of me doing nothing.

Oh boy I get this! It is so incredibly scary to just surrender since we have been in a process of doing and controlling 'external' circumstances (which there has never been a process but we identify with there having been one). ND is radical whereas LOA is more to get something so if you want to just get something right now, I would suggest LOA just so you don't spiral. Any 'method' 'works'' as long as you know that you are not a human and that which you 'think' you see is an illusion and effectively, unreal and can be molded into a different thing at any given moment the Self decides. There are no facts at all, there is nothing that is static and stable, it depends on your will to accept yourSelf as the Absolute Authority you ARE. The character has no power because the character is an illusion. You can try changing from the outside world but the only reason it will work is if you know that circumstances start and end with You.

By Ada:

But if I stop identifying myself as the ego, and start to know who the true self is, I just drop the problem, and it will disappear, like literally disappear, in the example I stated before it’s “dropping out of school doesn’t exist, everything is perfect because the self is perfect”.

Yes, because the one who you think you are is in school just because you believe they are in school, therefore if you wanted a different experience you can easily get it because there is no one here but you. No other power but you. The world is only solid because you believe it is.

1. so how would the problem be resolved? By the belief or the love the self has? Because Self loves all of her creations?

The problem will be resolved because Self doesn't want to experience it anymore. Imagine this:

You are painting a beautiful scenery. You have alllll the colours you could have but for this painting you only want green. However, you have red in your hand. The green is RIGHT THERE for you to grab but you won't let go of the red. The paint doesn't have a mind of its own, the air isn't dictating which colour is in your hand, it is all YOU. You are struggling against your own Self, trying to grab green whilst your hands are filled with paintbrushes with red. Drop the red and grab the green paint. THERE IS NOTHING BUT SELF! There is no effort, just a conscious decision to stop identifying yourself as the paint but instead, as the painter. Then you go one step forward and identify yourself with every-thing because the reason that there even is a thing is because of You. In reality, Self is a total negation.

Did she mean “only when we are open to accept the worst situation do we let go the ego”? Because if we don’t see ourselves as the ego, we won’t be bothered by the problem it’s facing, then the problem flies away because we don’t give it reality?

Yes, because you are not afraid of it anymore. It is just a passing thought with no basis.

Read this - the following are not my words, the creators have been credited in the beginning of each section:

Neville:

I AM the believer limited by my beliefs, the knower defined by the known. The world is my conditioned consciousness objectified. That which I feel and believe to be true of myself is now projected in space as my world. The world – my mirrored self – ever bears witness of the state of consciousness in which I live. There is no chance or accident responsible for the things that happen to me or the environment in which I find myself.

The most difficult thing for man to really grasp is this: That the “I AM-ness” in himself is God. It is his true being or Father state, the only state he can be sure of. The Son, his conception of himself, is an illusion. He always knows that he IS, but that which he is, is an illusion created by himself (the Father) in an attempt at self-definition.

Now that you have discovered your I AM, your consciousness to be God, do not claim anything to be true of yourself that you would not claim to be true of God, for in defining yourself, you are defining God.

The visible world of itself can do nothing; it only bears record of his creator, the subjective state.

Lester Levenson:

God is All, God is Perfect, and if God is All and God is Perfect, everything must be perfect, and that leaves no place for imperfection or troubles - Lester

reality warpingg:

infinite.ko/infiniteko:

"Deciding to wake up as a different ego" How do you expect to wake up as something that fundamentally does not exist? Would it make sense to you if the ocean wished to wake up as a wave? Does a wave truly exist on its own or is it an illusory form the ocean takes on? What are both made of?💧

#nd #nonduality #law of assumption #nondualism #asks

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unbidden-yidden · 1 year

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There's this dynamic I've seen replicated across numerous different identities, where people from the same identity group who have suffered greatly over that identity end up in conflict with those who have suffered less and also talk freely about the joy that identity has given them.

The people who have suffered a lot tend to find the joy expressed by the latter group extremely grating at best and offensive at worst. This often then leads to identity policing and the creation of artificial barriers that are unsupported by reality. If you have not suffered THIS much, then you aren't really [X]. Or, perhaps, the latter group is told that while they might technically be [X], they need to stop talking and 'prioritize' (aka stop talking, but nicer) the former group. This is also often categorized as 'privilege,' which actually makes 0 sense.

Meanwhile, the latter group frequently has complete failures of empathy or perspective, and often do not make space for the former group to talk about how [X] identity has hurt them, how they have suffered due to it, and how they don't necessarily emphasize it or particularly want to 'find joy' in it. There is often a complete lack of recognition of trauma the former group has experienced, and this lack of recognition can be especially painful coming from people who are ostensibly in the same group.

We have GOT to start acknowledging that both experiences are legitimate and finding ways to talk about our various experiences without hurting each other.

Some suggestions I might make are:

If you're in the former category, please try to access therapy or support groups to address your (completely legitimate) trauma. As someone who has *been* that person, life is so much better when you are happy for people finding joy, even in something that hurt you, rather than, what, exactly? Wishing they experienced the same pain? If it was really that bad, why would you wish that on anyone? Especially someone like you?

Stop categorizing intra-group dynamics as privilege, as if that marginalized identity could be a privilege. Instead, consider using other terms to discuss the spectrum of experience that don't erase other people's trauma.

Stop denying the trauma of others. Try to get some perspective on things, and look at the facts objectively. This is what is intended by the original "prioritize [X] with [Y] experience" framing, even if it has been twisted in shitty ways. Bad discourse doesn't change what happened.

And as someone who has also been in the latter group - look. There's a time and a place. For example, I love being Jewish. My life has gotten way better since becoming Jewish, even in spite of everything else that's going on. But Yom HaShoah isn't the day for me to express that. That would be tactless, tasteless, and insensitive. That's instead a great day for me to be quiet and supportive of Jews who lost family. There are plenty of other days for me celebrate my love of Judaism and for the Jewish people (like Shavuot!)

Anyway, nuance is good, infighting is bad, and valuing and respecting people's varied experiences can only help us. Exclusion and disrespect only hurts us and helps the people who want us silenced, hidden, erased, bullied into conformity and/or killed.

#'is this about --"#most likely yes #I have seen this in all of my major identities and watched similar discourse float by in other identities

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thewayuarent · 7 months

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Handling an addiction. Part 1.

Cause oh we need to have this conversation

Disclaimer: I am not a professional, and I won’t pretend to be. This is based on my personal experience as someone who is/was in several relationships with people who struggle from different forms of addiction. I want to clarify that I do understand all characters and while I’m going to critique them I do not blame them. The very important thing to remember is that it's a very complicated topic and there is no clear right answer to it. Let's keep in mind that any conversation about any difficult topic is always mostly one-sided and it's impossible to talk about everything once. This is about addiction and only about it, but all characters are way more then that one topic. Are we good now? Let's go.

So, let’s talk about Ray’s addiction and how people in his life are failing to handle it.

The most important thing to remember is: addiction is a disease. By definition of most medical associations all over the world. Addiction is not a personal choice. And while it doesn’t excuse Ray’s behaviour throughout the show, it explains it. And this is a big difference. Ray as a character is much more than just his addiction, absolutely. But his addiction is a huge part of who he is and how he behaves and we need to constantly remember about it.

This conversation begins every week after every episode. Most people who seem to understand the complexity of his situation are also people who have a lot of sympathy and understanding towards him, and this is great. There are also a lot of people who feel towards him mostly annoyance and desire for him to stop without understanding why he can't - and this list starts from characters in the show. It’s, again, understandable. It’s also the worst thing you can do towards someone who struggles from addiction.

So let’s start from Ray’s friend group and we’ll go from the least harmful to most harmful characters’ behaviour.

Boston. Yeah, shockingly, I know. But the fact is - Boston actually has the best-ish (from the worst so it’s not a high ground here) approach towards Ray’s addiction. And why? Well, cause he doesn’t give a fuck and doesn’t pretend to do. Boston is way far from the good support system Ray actually needs but at least he never judges Ray for his habits. He won’t help him, sure, but he won’t damage him harder (well, he is, but on a different topic).

We don’t actually know a lot about this friend group dynamic outside of their current drama and one episode happened two years ago. But we kind of can assume (cause Mew said it twice - in episodes 1 and 6) that Boston at least on some level was periodically responsible for taking Ray home. Which is really weird for me, by the way, cause both times Mew said Boston will take care of him Boston was also drinking. Not on Ray’s level, but still not in a shape to drive. But whatever.

Don’t get me wrong, Boston is a shitty friend. He’s the one called Ray a burden in episode 1 which led to Ray rushing out.

And he intentionally targets Ray more than once towards the show about Mew, which is absolutely harmful and not helpful (can we talk about the weird obsession Boston has about Ray and Mew having sex? Like dude relax, nobody cares. Well, Top does).

He is absolutely not someone you want to have in your support system while trying to heal (not if Ray’s trying but we’ll get to that in part 2). But at least he is honest about not wanting to handle an addict. And the truth is: no one in this friends group wants to. And it’s fine, actually, more on that in a minute. But oh the level of hypocrisy the other two have.

Cheum. So, I truly don’t understand what the show is trying to tell us with this one. It’s either a clear critique on the hypocrisy people tend to have towards addicts or an attempt to show how addiction ruins not only people with it but also their surroundings. And if it’s the second one then I have a problem with how it’s shown.

There is a gold rule of cinema: show, don’t tell. We are told more than once that Cheum and Mew were actively trying to stop Ray. But what we’re actually shown is way different. The thing is, they are college kids. They drink a lot. They party a lot. And if we see this group all together they are either in university or drinking (except for the iconic pool scene). And specifically Cheum seems to get drunk pretty often. So while we’re told they tried to help Ray we’re shown only how they actually (unintentionally!!) support his behaviour or ignore it. And what should I think?

I think that they missed the point when Ray’s habits became an actual addiction. And I understand why - it’s a very easy thing to miss. I think that before his suicide attempt they did’t notice his mental struggles. I think after that they were shocked and scared and they didn’t know how to handle it so they chose to ignore it. This is a very common reaction and it’s understandable.

The very important moment to remember is they don’t owe Ray anything. They can choose to help him and support him or not to deal with it. Handling an addiction is so hard and frustrating and exhausting for every participant. And if they choose to not get themselves into it - it’s normal. It doesn’t make them bad people, as choosing to help doesn't make somebody a better person. It’s a choice and every choice matters.

But if you make this choice - be true to it. Don’t play the “I tried to help you but you don’t want it so it’s on you” card. People with addiction didn’t choose to be that way. But people in their lives? They have an actual choice. No one will judge you if it’s not for you (at least normal people won’t). It’s honestly way better than staying only to constantly remind an addict how bad he is - he knows it already.

The thing I have to say to Cheum is - go away. It’s harsh, but it needs to be said. Don’t lie to yourself or Ray. Tell him (in very careful way) that you are tired, that you can’t handle it, that he needs help you can’t provide. Or stay, but do your research and prepare yourself to long hard work. But don’t continue to constantly drink with him to then be surprised why he can’t get better. Cheum is absolutely not responsible for Ray's actions. But she is responsible for hers.

The one time I was almost agree with her was that scene.

Because bringing drugs was a very fucked up thing to do - Ray puts at risk not only himself but the whole group and he deserves to be called out on that. But. She continues to put all the blame on Ray - the thing she does the whole episode and it’s just frustrating as hell - forgetting about Mew. Mew, who actually has a lot of responsibility in that situation.

Mew. Well, he does the worst thing you can imagine to do with a person like Ray. I get it, he’s hurt, I totally understand why he does what he does. I don't think he intends to hurt Ray. But.

Mew forgets a critically important thing here - can you guess which one? - right, that Ray is an addict. Mew can do all this stuff and be fine afterwards. It is always a risk that he won’t, of course, but his superiority complex tells him he’ll be fine. And I also think so - I mean, he's a young adult, he can try partying and drinking and drugs and be totally okay after.

He can turn back. Ray can’t.

Mew did help Ray in his worst moment that one time two years ago, and it is worth remembering. And after that Mew tried his best to distance himself from Ray’s struggles - again, understandable. He was trying to talk with Ray and while it was really bad - I still give him the benefit of a doubt. He is young, he’s not a specialist, he didn’t do any research and he thinks it might work.

But a moment he decides to let loose he turns to Ray for help. Because Ray will never judge him - both cause his idolisation and cause it’s not his place to judge, he does all this stuff himself. And this is absolutely terrible. I’m sorry, but it is. Mew, the same as everyone else, doesn’t owe Ray his help or time or support. But while it is not necessary for him to help Ray, it is a necessity to not actively - and this time intentionally - support him in this.

For Mew everything happening is episode 8 is a journey, a new experience. For Ray it's a fucking relapse.

He knows Ray is an addict. He just doesn’t care at the moment. But it can be so, so dangerous for Ray. Mew started this spiraling down journey, but it’s Ray who will end up at the bottom.

And for everyone who says Ray is also an active participant - he is. But he is not. He has a disease. And he gets in a situation where a person he idolises, his favourite human being, finally doesn’t judge him. Instead, Mew supports him. Mew wants to be like him. Can you imagine even a possibility where Ray in this situation says no? It’s impossible, not in the state he’s in right now.

And this is why I critisize this friend group. This is why they deserve to be criticized. Because this is a depiction of how these things work in reality too. You don't have to help him. But the least thing you can do - if you deside to stay in his life - is to have a compassion towards him and don't get him worse.

In part two I will talk about Ray’s current state and of course about the one person who kind of does the better job here - and why Sand is able to do it.

#only friends meta #ofts meta #ofts #only friends the series #only friends #only friends ray #I’m really tired of that discourse

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genericpuff · 6 months

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The Mishandling of LO’s S3 Mi(n)season Hiatus - Part 3 1/2

Here we go, Part 3 of my analysis of the current FP episodes - a three-parter episode set leading up to the midseason finale of LO.

Part 1

Part 2

Truth is, I had actually forgotten a lot of the weird (and very stupid) shit that happened in this episode, that I thought Episodes 251 and 252 had already offered up the worst that this three parter set could dish out. Boy, was I wrong, because when I went back to check out Episode 253, I was reminded of a reality that my brain had wiped out in an attempt to protect my withering psyche-

I also forgot just how long this episode is. It's so long that I frankly can't even fit it all into this post, so this is gonna be part 3 1/2.

Anyways, let's just get on with it. This is the final stop on our trip into absolute nonsense.

CAUTION: THIS IS PART 3 OF A 3 PART SERIES IN WHICH I WILL BE SPOILING MUCH OF EPISODES 251-253. THIS WILL BE A LONG POST. BRACE YOURSELF.

Well, it's the midseason finale, and what better way to open it up than with the final title card-

Typo and all. It wouldn't be an LO episode without one. Granted, IIRC this typo has been edited out, but the version of the screenshots I have from it feature it in all its original unedited glory. So enjoy that.

And yes, just like the last two times, the title itself only applies to the final cliffhanger, which is an absolute doozy especially for those who were there to experience it in real time.

This is already a bit of a wild opening compared to the last two episodes, but it's quickly revealed that this is laying the foundation for the prophecy that Psyche gave to Apollo back in Episode 252. In true LO fashion, the story can't actually be linear in any regard, we're always segmented from pieces of information at a time. Loyal fans will call this a "writing style", I call it Rachel just trying to get another 70 cents out of me.

That said, I will say the art here is fairly decent, but I think that just goes to show that LO's one of worst features these days - ironically enough - is its coloring. What began as its strongest feature has now become one of its biggest weaknesses due to the sheer laziness in its rendering and the colors become more and more saturated into the grotesque over time. So at this point, you pretty much have to rob these characters of their colors to make them look decent, and of course at that point it just further highlights Rachel's same-face problems. She definitely tried to make them look distinguishable here, at least, with Hestia and Poseidon being the most unique.

Now, this isn't the first time that we've heard of this herb being referenced - it was stated by Hades that Hera was the one to originally poison Kronos with the herb after gaining his trust - but to see it suddenly just pop up and play a role again out of nowhere already gives me a bad feeling in my stomach. It feels like yet another plot device - especially when presented in this type of format - that Rachel is suddenly using to try and seem "unique" in her writing, much like the strange narration we got back during the "Run For Your Life" sequence. It's just once again LO lacking any specific identity, it's always trying to be a million other things at once.

I will say, much of this in and of itself is panel filler. Why? Because the location of the herb doesn't matter. You'll see what I mean in a moment, but the mentioning of Anthedon plays no role here, it's just yet another obligatory "see, I know how to Google things!" lip service moment from Rachel "self-proclaimed folklorist" Smythe.

Anyways, Eros is perplexed by this but Psyche immediately catches on, knowing right away that Apollo is going for Zeus. And this is where we get yet another one of the dumbest sequences in this comic.

(see what I mean that the location of the herb doesn't matter? Because Apollo already got it and laced it into the cupcake).

Now, first of all, the fact that Eros and Psyche believe Kassandra's prophecy is already hilarious in and of itself, because ... well, because it literally defeats the point of her establishing it as a curse in the previous episode. Unless it only works on mortals? It never stated as such, so we literally just have to go with it and pretend not to notice that.

But most of all, of course LO had to play this off as some joke. Like, "hahaha how awkward! I've already eaten the cupcake!" and he still doesn't seem to really be in shock. Zeus has seen what this herb has done to gods before him, and yet his reaction to this is akin to a dad getting upset that he stepped LEGO's that he asked his kid 20 times to pick up off the floor. The whole "record scratch" style formatting of this followed by Zeus' lack of reaction just really makes me not care about any of this, because clearly the story doesn't care either.

But we don't see who he makes these calls to because the comic, of course, can't spend any longer than 10 panels on a single scene, so we cut to Hades and Persephone.

Again, I don't know what the point was of having Hera relay this information to Persephone for her to relay to Hades, aside from the fact that Rachel needed to act smart with Therapy Speak that didn't even apply to Hera's situation (as we talked about in the last part). They gotta make Persephone the center of everyone's world though, so it's Persephone who's delivering this info and trying to come up with the solution.

Hades, though, wants to focus on his wife's birthday the commemoration of spring.

SIR. THE WOMAN YOU WERE IN AN AFFAIR WITH SINCE BEFORE YOUR WIFE WAS BORN IS CURRENTLY GRAPPLING WITH YOUR FATHER WHO ABUSED HER AND IS NOW HAUNTING HER. THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR FLUFFY ROMANCE TIME. THERE IS A CHILD BEING HELD CAPTIVE IN TARTARUS AND LITERALLY NO ONE SEEMS TO CARE.

Anyways, apparently (for some reason) Hades is the one who has to go meet Demeter out front. Even though Hades has literally NOTHING to do with this ceremony, it's not his domain, but Persephone literally says "yep, that's correct" when he asks if he needs to go out to meet Demeter.

This just feels like such a pointless conversation and I don't get what the point of this exact exchange is. Again, this isn't Hades' domain, so I don't see why he needs to be the one to go meet with Demeter.

But then, of course, to make matters worse, this man has the absolute audacity to pretend like he's never done anything wrong to Demeter. As if she should be obligated to be cool with sharing a bench with this man who literally terrorized her for years and then essentially groomed her daughter.

I hate him so fucking much and I can't believe we're supposed to be rooting for him. He has not undergone ANY of the character development necessary for me to want to care about him.

Anyways, Hades has a seat with Demeter, and the conversation is very brief before Hades says that he has a gift for her. And what is it, exactly?

Oh great, Hades. Sure wish you would have had this consideration hundreds of years ago. I fail to see what good this does for her now because it doesn't change the fact that he still cost her the role of Queen of the Mortal Realm and treated her like shit for hundreds of years. This comes across as such a shallow and empty "apology" because it's barely even a "gift", rather something she was OWED back then that he didn't want to hand over for his own selfish reasons. He still comes out the winner here because he's gotten to spend thousands of years being a rich slave-driving oligarch while Demeter has had to maintain the Mortal Realm on her own even without the glory of having a title.

I especially detest this "twist" because it's less of a twist and Rachel finally accepting the fact she couldn't come up with anything better than what her fans had to come up with for her. If this had been the fact the whole time, we would have seen it established back when we first got those flashbacks showing Hades being a total prick to her over the volcanoes. Instead, Rachel dragged it out for weeks and weeks until finally dumping this "twist" that her fans had been talking about all that time. This is yet another one of those "Rachel used her fanbase to come up with her ideas" moments. I know that that seems a little mean and presumptuous, but the fact of the matter is that the writing in this story is such an absolute mess that you just know Rachel's writing by the seat of her pants and has to rely on her audience's headcanons to actually fill in the gaps of her story. Most of the time when people commend her for the "great storytelling" in LO, what they're referring to are things they came up with entirely on their own because of how easy it is to just make assumptions about LO's storyline. Rachel benefits off the story being as vague as possible because then her fanbase will fill in the gaps with their own assumptions and give her all the credit for an idea they came up with.

By the way, to the "self-proclaimed folklorist" who wrote this, the volcanoes were really just entrances into the Underworld. Hades did not own them. They were owned by Hephaestus. And I would argue that the volcanoes were only seen as "entrances" into the Underworld because, fun fact - if you jump into a volcano, you die!

Hades frames his reasoning as feeling like Demeter was pushing him out of the Mortal Realm, but this makes no sense because none of that is on her. He claims that he felt like an "outsider" but the reality is that he made himself that way. He resigned himself to being King of the Underworld, he ate the pomegranate and made the deal with Erebus, and even he stated that he could still actually leave the Underworld, just not for long periods of time. So he was the only one keeping himself away from the Mortal Realm, not Demeter. We even see that in the VHS tape flashbacks where Hades stumbles onto Demeter's property and she lets him sleep it off in her home. So this whole sob story about how he felt "pushed out" by Demeter is such a bad take from someone who's routinely known to make himself out to be the victim. Because Hades can't have an actual reputation for a reason, no, this is a "retelling" told by someone who got all their Greek myth info off Tumblr circa 2016 and the front page of Google, so Hades has to be the misunderstood uwu sad underdog. Even though he routinely does things that reinforce the reputation he has within the comic, like being a slave driver, abusing lower class nymphs, and grooming teenagers.

Minthe showing up for a split second in the background is the best this comic has been since S2. We stan our girl Minthe, fucking run girl, do what Persephone couldn't do. She's the real hero of this story (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

And honestly, I'm sorry, but Demeter really SHOULDN'T be taking the high ground on this. She has more than enough reason to be upset. For a comic that tries to celebrate feminism and holding abusive men accountable, it sure is willing to make the women - often victims of the men - the real villains who have to "do better". Except for Persephone of course. Persephone is married into the system now, she doesn't have to "do better", she's a "boss babe" for being abusive and petty and undeserving of her status because she's the self-insert Y/N character.

So the ceremony for commencing Spring begins. I gotta say, for the final major scene of the mi(n)season finale, the art is severely underwhelming. You can really tell the difference between S3 and S1 art here, there's barely anything extra done to make this scene even half as impactful as the most basic of scenes from S1.

Like, it's fine, but it still feels so half-baked and rushed to attempt to replicate the kind of art that's been gone from the series for years now. The full sequence itself is actually quite lengthy, with a lot of nymph hands just moving around and playing instruments, but it's about as bland as any other panel, so it makes the sequence itself feel dragged out and boring.

This is about as pretty as the sequence gets and it's still not even as good as the original Dread Queen transformation. There's barely any rendering in the skin, and they couldn't even be bothered to make the hands look normal. It's like it's trying so hard to be "original LO" but is fundamentally missing the point of what made the original LO so captivating.

But oh noooo, looks like Persephone did a bad!

Are they actually gonna give her some kind of flaw? Are we gonna FINALLY gonna find out what she traded to Erebus?

No. We're just gonna make her the cause of winter.

Spaghettios.

And that's where I'm leaving this review for now because, as mentioned in the beginning, this episode is a LOT longer than I remember it being. There's still a whole ass segment with Apollo that we need to cover and I don't want to leave it out but I also don't want to do it entirely in text format and I've hit that pesky image limit. So I'll be posting that second part as soon as I can!

That said, I really can't stand this "subversion" by making Persephone the reason for winter.

First of all, because this is a common problem in a lot of H x P "retellings", as many of them fundamentally miss the point of why Persephone is the "Goddess of Spring".

Persephone was not born the "Goddess of Spring". She was born Kore (Κόρη), a maiden born from Demeter. It wasn't until after she was taken by Hades that Demeter, in her grief, took away the harvest and created winter. It was the return of Persephone every six months that brought about the spring, hence, she earned the name, "Goddess of Spring". What these retellings COMPLETELY MISUNDERSTAND is that the gods aren't 'born' with their titles, they're granted these titles by the mortals who comprehend them and write of them as harbingers of their respective elements, stories, and messages. Zeus wasn't "born" the God of the Sky and Heavens, he was granted that title after he overthrew Kronos and took the Heavens for himself. Hades wasn't "born" the God of the Underworld and the Dead, he was granted that title after he became the ruler of the domain of death.

Where these retellings really fuck up is constantly trying to "subvert" the H x P myth in an attempt to romanticize it, thus undoing the point of why Persephone is called "The Goddess of Spring". A Touch of Darkness also made this mistake by putting a "twist" on Persephone's character by having her start out as someone who couldn't make things grow. But if she sucks at making things grow, then why is she still referred to as The Goddess of Spring? In LO, Hades is referred to as "Grandpa Winter" and the seasons already seem to exist as we saw in this episode through the ceremony, so why has she been called "The Goddess of Spring" this whole time?

But I also can't stand this "subversion" because it fundamentally misunderstands the very myth it's trying to "retell". By giving Persephone the "curse" of creating winter, it further robs Demeter of her own agency in this story, more than it already has. It wasn't enough to make Demeter a helicopter mom, it wasn't enough to drive an actual rift between her and her daughter, they had to take away Demeter's entire role in the story and the creation of the seasons and give it to Persephone.

And this is, surprisingly enough, NOT the first time the comic has done this. There are many traits associated with different gods that have been given to Persephone and Hades. The volcanoes belong to Hades rather than Hephaestus, Persephone is "more beautiful than Aphrodite", Thanatos' and Psyche's butterfly symbolism is given to both Hades and Persephone, Aphrodite's symbolism of roses is given to Persephone, the list goes on. Every single plotline has to involve Persephone as the hero, and every single attribute that's commonly associated with other gods has to be granted to H x P in some way to make them better and more interesting than every other cast member in the comic, and yet they still come across as vapid and boring protagonists with nothing to show for themselves.

So to give the ONE thing from the source material that made LO what it is, it comes across as so unbearably cruel.

But then again, we should have seen this coming. After all, Rachel does not cite this as a retelling of The Hymn to Demeter. She simply refers to it as its more unofficial name: The Taking of Persephone.

Look, I get it, the story is meant to be told from Persephone's POV (or at least through the lens of her being the main character) so I can understand why Rachel may have chosen to reword this to make it more clear. But it's really depressing that she went to such an extent with making it about Persephone that she had to rob one of the most integral character of her moment and retribution. Especially when one of the only books in her cited "research" that's primarily about Persephone is, shocked, The Hymn to Demeter, which is listed at the very bottom of every "research" list you can find in LO's history.

LO should have just stayed as self-indulgent fluff. This isn't "subversion", this isn't a "twist", it's just yet another item on the list of making Persephone the most Important One of all. Even when it attempts to be a 'flaw', it fails tremendously by acting as yet another aspect of her being a Mary Sue, because her 'flaw' has come at the cost of another character's story, identity, and strengths. What was originally a tale of grief, retribution, and standing up against a patriarchal system, has now been warped into a consequence of a muddied plot that doesn't have anywhere left to go. For a story that claims to be "feminist", it has ironically missed the original point of its source material entirely, and completely robbed itself of the feminine strength it could have had if it hadn't tried to be "subversive".

I don't really have anything much more to say than that. I could leave it here for good, but we do still have that extra segment to talk about that covers the actual final cliffhanger in this episode, so... we'll see you on the other side.

#lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus

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borathae · 1 year

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“Jungkook gets anxious sometimes. And when that happens, he needs your affection more than anything.”

Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader

Warnings: anxious Kook, tears, he sucks on her boobs but it’s not even an ounce of sexual

Wordcount: 1.3k

a/n: I couldn’t get the concept of Kookie sucking on her boobs for comfort out of my head so here it is. This is pure comfort and fluff. Also this is very sappy, because I reread some of their chapters and got sappy af about how far they’ve come :( have fun besties ❤

Jungkook worked really late today. So late in fact, that you were already asleep when he came home. You often are with his schedule. You really hate those days. They leave him stressed, tired and sometimes even anxious. And there is no thing on earth you despise more than knowing that your Bunny had a bad day. You already hated it back when you still pretended that he was nothing more than business and you especially hate it these days as his loving wife. It makes you want to protect him from everything and everyone. You want to set the whole world on fire whenever he is feeling cold. You want to darken the sun whenever his eyes hurt because of it. And you would especially love to demolish his company whenever he had a bad day because of it. Truly, if anything or anyone bothered your Jungkookie in any kind of way, your desire for protective violence is raging.

So when a weak hand shakes you awake that night, followed by a little sniffle, you jolt up ready to fight the world. Not that one can see that you are, as your eyes open comically slowly in sleepiness. But you really are ready to fight the world.

Jungkook is barely visible in the darkness, only the weak shine of his nightlight illuminates him. He uses the light whenever you are sleeping already to find his way to bed and then apply lip balm and hand cream. Tonight it seems that he is using it to see you as well.

He is pouting. His eyes are puffy and wet from tears and his nose is runny too.

"What's wrong?" you ask him with a terribly croaky voice, courtesy to the deep sleep you previously had found yourself in.

"Anxiety attack", he gets out and whimpers, "I, I can’t get it to s-stop."

"I'm here, I’m right here", you are wide awake instantly, propping yourself up on your elbow to scoot closer and kiss his cheek, "I'm right here, Bunny. You’re safe now."

Jungkook nods his head, chasing your closeness with his trembling fingers twisting the front of your shirt. He’s safe now. Nothing can hurt him anymore because he has you to protect him now.

"I threw up", he confesses and sobs softly, "in, in t-the office. I, I had an attack and, and then I, I threw up b-because it, it was so strong. A-and now I, I can’t get it to, to stop."

"Oh no, I’m so sorry", you gasp, cradling him against your chest, "I fucking hate that you had to. This is the worst fucking feeling. Fuck, my Bunny", you hug him closer, burying your fingers in his hair, "I'm here now. Do you hear me? You’re not alone anymore."

"I really wanted to b-be in your arms, but you were in the exam so I, I didn’t call", he says, shivering like crazy.

"God no, my Bunny", you feel yourself tear up in guilt. Jungkook needed you and you weren’t there for him, "I'm so sorry. I feel so awful. Please call me next time. No matter where I am, you’ll always be the most important priority to me and I'll always come to help."

Jungkook sobs gratefully. He really needed that reassurance. He didn’t want to call you today, not because he thought that you would be angry, but because he didn’t want to disturb you. He wants you to be able to live your life and for you to be able to experience things like exams and college classes because you never got that when you were younger. And that’s why he didn’t call. Because he didn’t want to be the stupid reason why you had to miss out on such experiences.

But his anxiety has tortured him to the point where there was almost nothing left of him. And all Jungkook needed was to hear you reassure him that he will always have a shoulder to lean on with you. He needed to hear it. He never stopped believing it, but he still needed to hear it.

He feels better already now that he is resting in your arms and has your gentle touch soothing him. The painful lump in his throat is gone and those everlasting heart palpitations are calming down as well.

"I'm so sorry, my Bunny. I seriously feel awful", you whisper, kissing the shell of his ear softly.

Jungkook tilts his head up upon hearing the guilt in your voice and feeling the distinct sensation of your tears hitting his skin. Just as he had feared. You are crying, looking so guilty.

"It's not your fault. It’s okay", he whispers, "I love you so much."

"I love you too", you breathe, cupping his cheek, "I'll fight the fucking world to keep you safe" you add, running your thumb over his cheekbone.

Jungkook feels so unworthy of your love sometimes. It’s moments like these that make him feel like this. Moments where he realises that someone like you – someone who spent most of her life fighting for herself with no other person in mind – chooses to fight for him over and over and over again. You chose him. Chose him even if that meant stepping out of your comfort zone. Chose him even if that meant handing over some of your control to which you so obsessively clung to. You fucking chose him. As your family, partner and human for life. And Jungkook will never ever take that for granted.

"Please don’t fight it, you'll only hurt yourself", he whispers, making you laugh quietly.

"I'll be careful, promise."

Jungkook feels better now that he heard your laugh. His desire to flee from unknown danger ceases to exist and he doesn’t feel so broken anymore.

"I adore you so much", he whispers.

"I adore you too", you tell him, leaning down to kiss his cheek, "my Bunny."

Overwhelmed by his emotions, Jungkook seeks you out, nose brushing against your breasts and fingers traveling to your chest. He hopes that you will understand for he feels too weak to speak.

You rest back on your pillow. Knowing very well what his gesture means, you unbutton your shirt wordlessly. You open it until the button where he can comfortably reach your breasts.

"Thank you", he presses out and whimpers, cupping your right breast to guide your nipple to his lips. He whimpers again as he takes you inside, body growing limp in comfort and shivers finally stopping entirely.

Jungkook does this often when he needs true comfort. When his day was hard and his mental health was bad, all he truly needed was to be close to you. And on those really exhausting days, all that really helped was being able to suck on your breasts. He saw nothing sexual in the act during those moments and neither did you. It felt nurturing, comforting and safe. For both of you. For Jungkook because he was finally in your safe arms again and the gentle motion of sucking soothed him. And for you because you finally had the reassurance that your Jungkookie was safe and the warmth of his mouth relaxed you.

You never ended up having sex because of those moments. Not even once. This act, while perhaps sexual during other situations, was of the most intimate and vulnerable nature and leaves the both of you oh so much more connected. Jungkook also feels no ounce of anxiety when he can suck on your nipples. Whatever painful feelings kept him hostage before, they all instantly disappear the second he begins kissing and sucking your breasts.

Tonight is no different. Jungkook sucks on your breasts until he feels too sleepy to continue and you massage his scalp until your tired fingers stop working. Jungkook falls asleep just a little bit sooner than you. Reassured that he was finally at peace, you give in to the tiredness and fall asleep seconds later. And together you will forget about the world outside your windows, because all that truly matters was being in each other’s arms.

#jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts angst #bts drabble #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts x you #bangtan fluff #bangtan angst #bangtan fanfic #bangtan drabble #bangtan x reader #bangtan x you #fanfic: aaol

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m-a-n-g-o-m-i · 9 months

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I love being plural. I love all the quiet moments on the bus, or in the kitchen while my roommate’s home, where one of my headmates will whisper something funny to me and I’ll laugh even though I don’t mean to. I’ll hope that no one heard, but maybe they did, and for a moment I’ll think that that’s alright. My experience of being plural is all soft and warm and comforting and it’s not my problem if someone else sees me talking to myself and thinks it’s scary or strange. I don’t deserve to be ashamed of myself just because other people would be ashamed to be me. For a moment, being plural is something I’m proud of in the same way that I’m proud to be trans.

But eventually, reality will set in. I don’t feel comfortable being openly neurodivergent in public, in fact, I think it’s a very narrow slice of neurodivergent people who have the privilege of choosing not to mask. I still try my best not to laugh on the bus, and I only tell people I’m plural if I’m absolutely sure I can trust them.

But it’s hard not to feel ashamed of yourself, living like that, where basic facts about your existence are tightly guarded secrets. If there’s nothing wrong with me for being like this, why do I live in fear of anyone finding out? I wish I could come out as plural like I came out as trans. Maybe one day, people will be able to be out as plural like that. Some people already can, and do, but I’m not one of them. Maybe someday I will be, when I’m in a better situation, but not today.

Being plural is something to be proud of. Being plural is not inherently disordered or bad or wrong or unhealthy or shameful, and even if you do experience plurality in a disordered way it’s still not wrong and it’s still not something to be ashamed of. My headmates have saved my life a hundred times over. They fill even the worst parts of my life with joy because they love me and I love them and nothing can take that away from us. To me, being plural is a beautiful, radical thing, and it’s okay if you don’t experience it that way, but you have to respect that this is how it is for me, and I’m never going to stop being proud about it. I’m never going to stop being proud about it even if I go my whole life keeping it a secret, even if I can never express it in public. I wouldn’t trade this way of existing for the world.

#plural pride #pluralgang #sysmeds dni

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championashley · 4 months

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Alright. I said I would write this and I’m gonna stay true to my word.

I’ve been seeing a lot of takes since The Giggle has come out questioning the potency of 14’s ending. People have been citing multiple different times during the reboot era where the Doctor has “settled down” somewhere, from Darillium, the university in S10, to even Trenzalore. However, I think all of these comparisons are apples to oranges, completely missing the details of each instance and how The Giggle’s ending rebukes all of them.

So, because I cannot leave an inaccurate take alone, I’m going through every single one of these instances and explain why 14’s ending is different from them, in chronological order.

I’m gonna start with a weird one: S7EP4, The Power of Three. Because it provides a good example of all the things we’re going to be talking about.

Prior to this episode, long time fans already had a good idea that the Doctor…does not do well in monotonous environments, a truth that is consistent across multiple incarnations.

“I don’t do families.”

“Street corner, two in the morning, getting a taxi home. I’ve never had a life like that.”

“Here you are, Living a life, day after day. The one adventure I could never have.”

“Christmas dinner.” “I don’t do that sort of thing.”

“Oh god I had a terrible nightmare about you two!” [Talking about Amy and Rory having a normal life in Leadworth]

The entirety of The Lodger

“There’s a bigger, scarier adventure waiting for you in there.”

The Power of Three, spells this truth out in bold, montage style marker pen. The Doctor “needs to be busy”. Why, as Amy later asks?

Personally I think this answer varies slightly between regenerations, based on experiences and losses each face goes through. 9 couldn’t imagine a life of peace coming out of a war, a war that he had a major hand in. 10 continues that idea, with the added baggage of losing Rose. 11’s reasoning is a bit subtler: he says to Amy that he is running to things before they go, as if he now understands how short beautiful things last. He’s going from one thing to the next in avoidance of staying to watch things die.

“And what’s the alternative? Me standing over your grave?”

This doesn’t change by the end of the episode. The Doctor explicitly tells the Ponds that he’s only staying to watch the cubes, and once the threat is gone, he’s already out the door. He only stops because of a potential threat, an idea we will return to in the next example. He even accepts the idea of Amy and Rory wanting to stay behind: “things to do. Worlds to save. Swings to swing on. Look, I know. You both have lives here. beautiful, messy lives. That is what makes you so fabulously human. You don’t want to give them up. I understand.” The Doctor is saying, ‘I know you have lives here, and that I can’t always be a part of that. And that’s ok.’

This episode in my opinion is a perfect microcosm of The Doctor regarding this topic, spelling out explicitly why The Doctor can't ever settle down. The Doctor needs to have something to run to because they don't feel secure enough in any place to not allow their altruism outweigh their need to process their trauma. The only thing that could motivate the Doctor to stop, even just for a second, is the promise that their friend(s) will be there too. The next example is the worst-case scenario of this issue.

Trenzalore is an interesting case. When I first heard of it being counted, I immediately shut it down, because Trenzalore was a literal war zone (wars are obviously not a good place for mental health time). But in doing research, there is actually way more baggage contained in this period making it unsuitable for this argument than just that fact.

Trenzalore was set up to be the Doctor’s final resting place, where they would truly die. It wasn’t the first time a death prophecy had surrounded the Time Lord, and once again, just as with The End of Time, the thing that kills them is, what Davros would later call The Doctor's “greatest indulgence”: compassion. Tasha Leem warns 11 that she will burn the planet upon the possibility of the Time Lords returning, a warning the Doctor takes extremely seriously.

“This planet is protected.”

“Christmas has a new sheriff.”

For 300 years, 11 stayed true to his word. He fought long and hard, for the townspeople and his own. He was celebrated and was loved. But Clara returning with the TARDIS revealed how he really felt about all of it.

“Everyone gets stuck somewhere eventually.”

“But you didn’t have your TARDIS.” “Well, that made it easier to stay.”

There’s an unspoken sentiment in these words, echoing 11's philosophy in Power of Three: the Doctor will always want to leave, in this case, to understandably avoid his prophesied death. But he doesn’t, because “Every life I save is a victory”. Their compulsion to help, their innate capacity to help those in need. So often it’s been their greatest strength, but here it’s framed as destructive selflessness. 11 has become so wholly committed to helping others before himself that he’s willing to accept his own death.

Clara correctly calls this out: “What about your life? Just for once, After all this time, have you not earned the right to think about that?” The Doctor didn’t stay on Trenzalore for himself, he stayed for everyone besides himself. It’s only because Clara gave the Time Lords a proper verbal smackdown that the Doctor managed to survive. Had they not intervened, The Doctor would've suffered and died, once again to protect them, despite already saving them from annihilation in the previous episode, Day of The Doctor. Trenzalore wasn't The Doctor stopping, it was a century-long effort to keep satiating the bottomless survivor's guilt they still carried from The Time War.

Darillium is yet another case of looking like a time the Doctor settled down somewhere on the surface. But the details don’t match that conclusion. The entire thesis of 12 and River’s final conversation was about the fleeting nature of their situation.

“Times end, River, because they have to. Because there’s no such thing as happily ever after. It’s just a lie we tell ourselves because the truth is so hard.”

The Doctor says this, cries at hearing the Singing Towers, despite already knowing they have 24 years in a night. Because he knows it can’t last. There’s already a deadline on their moment of peace before it’s begun. Eventually River must go to The Library.

The final quote of the episode punctuates this: “And they lived happily ever after.” Fading away until “happily” remains. Because they didn’t have their “ever after” and they didn’t “live”, because a person can’t entirely experience life to the fullest with a clock hanging over their head.

While they got their moment of happiness, it was only a moment. 24 years is just a blink of an eye for a Time Lord, and sure enough, we see by the end of “The Return of Doctor Mysterio”, the next chronological episode, 12 is ready to leap back into the fray. Still the same overall Doctor he was before.

The University is an extension of this. We find out that the only reason he has stayed is to guard Missy in the vault. When 12 tries to mindwipe Bill (an eerie parallel to both Donna and Clara), he directly says: “I have no choice, I’m in disguise. I have promises to keep.” Just like with Trenzalore, The Doctor’s altruism has trapped him somewhere he doesn’t actually want to be. The second he hesitates, he immediately runs after Bill, inviting her into the TARDIS and sneaks off to the universe behind Nardole’s back.

So, now that we’ve gone through each past instance, what’s the connection? What’s the key issue(s) that prevented the Doctor from permanently stopping in any of these cases?

The (fear of) loss of their friends, and the Doctor’s own self-loathing. Either out of fear of the march of time, or the chains that their altruistic nature binds them to, The Doctor always runs away from the picket fence life.

Now, let’s look at 14 and how this ending departs from all other examples.

Wild Blue Yonder and The Giggle more prominently explains 14’s origins as a coping mechanism. The reason why 10’s face came back was to retreat to an incarnation that didn’t invoke the loss of The Ponds, Clara, and Bill. The second destruction of Gallifrey and the reveal of The Timeless Child. The Doctor’s avoidance of their trauma has now been made physical, just like how mental stress can often manifest as physical changes or ailments.

“We stand here now, on the edge of creation, a creation that I devastated, so yes I keep running, of course I keep running!! How am I supposed to look back on that?!”

Already this is a departure from the instances we’ve discussed, because by the very nature of having 10’s face again, it’s forcing the Doctor to ask why.

“It’s like I'm trying to tell myself something. Like I’m trying to make a point.”

But 14 chooses not to answer it, because answering it means accepting the truth: it’s too much. The trauma can’t be avoided anymore, because The Doctor would always be reminded of what they’re trying to avoid by looking in a reflection. 14 telling Shirley, “I don’t know who I am anymore.” Then asking Donna, “what am I? What am I now?” It’s not because he’s been given a blank slate and doesn’t know what to do with it, like other regeneration stories. In trying to run away again, to bury the trauma and pain, The Doctor has made it more visible than ever, and doesn’t know what to do with that.

Ironically, the Toymaker causing the bi-generation was the greatest gift he could’ve given the Doctor, because 15 was exactly who 14 needed to see. He’s happy, energetic, full of life and wonder, but also empathetic, understanding and open. He’s the only other person in the entire universe who The Doctor will listen to (well, one person, we’ll get to the other later), because he knows all of the trauma they went through, and yet, made it through ok.

“But you’re fine.”

“I’m fine, because you fix yourself.”

15 is leading by example, their own ‘ghost of Christmas future’ but positive. 14 now has an ideal self to strive towards, a face born from love and empathy. 14 doesn’t have to ground herself out of moral obligation, 15 will now protect the universe.

But that leaves one question: why Donna? Out of all of the people to settle down with, why her? That’s easy: because she gets it.

Donna, out of all of the companions the Doctor traveled with, understood the soul behind the legend, because she recognized someone fundamentally similar to herself. One of Donna’s signature character flaws is her horrendously low self esteem: “I’m nothing special.” no one ever listened to her (thanks Sylvia, for at least cleaning up your act later), so she covered up the silence with noise. She held onto whatever indisputable moments of genius she had to drown out the cacophony of voices shutting her up. Wild Blue Yonder explained this perfectly: Donna believes she is both brilliant and stupid at the same time.

She lives in two contradictory self images at once, and so does The Doctor. The genius and the idiot. The universe’s most fascinating person, and the person who would easily throw away their life for the betterment of others. She’s seen their blinding arrogance/rage (the Racnoss, Jenny) and their crippling self doubt/loneliness, and always met both with empathy and kindness.

“Doctor! You can stop now!”

“Cause sometimes I think you need someone to stop you.”

“It won’t stay like that. She’ll help you. We both will.”

“Is ‘alright’ special Time Lord code for ‘really not alright’ at all?” “Why?” “Cause I’m alright too.”

Donna shouldered the burden of destroying Pompeii, she silently hugged 10 after coming back from Midnight. All because she knew what all of that would feel like in her own life. She didn’t need to know the history of The Doctor and Davros, because she saw her best friend afraid and knew he would want comfort, because she would too.

Even if Dalek Caan manipulated the timelines to get Donna to him, That friendship was completely real to both of them. We saw what Donna was like without the Doctor in Forest of the Dead and Turn Left, and she always felt some level of unhappiness. 15 years removed from them and she still felt as if something was missing. In every future/reality, she always wanted them there. Same for the Doctor too. Within only a few episodes of losing her, 10 started to fall into becoming the “time lord victorious”. 12 looks the way he does because of Donna’s plea to adhere to his name, and save people. Even before 14 came into existence, the Doctor was willing to tell other people how important she was to them, on account of River recognizing Donna by her name: “you’re Donna, Donna Noble.”

Donna didn’t just travel with the Doctor and she wasn’t just friends with them. She completely understood them, their soulmate. Two halves of a greater whole, The DoctorDonna. 14 stayed because there was a more stable incarnation to take his place, and because his best friend would be there alongside him, helping and supporting him through and through. The Doctor stayed because, for the first time in their life, they felt safe. In where they would be staying, and what they would be leaving behind.

That's why 15 doubling the TARDIS was so significant. In giving 14 her own TARDIS, 15 is allowing his younger self to have what they always removed from the equation: free will. The Doctor can still go anywhere they want, which makes them even more motivated to stay and fix themself. 14 can feel safe staying with Donna, Wilf, Mel, Rose, Shaun, and Sylvia because the option to travel is still there.

And the truly amazing part of all of this is that the TARDIS knew it from the beginning. Was it a coincidence that very soon after 13 regenerated into 14, the TARDIS landed close to where Donna and Rose would be shopping?

“You didn’t always take me where I wanted to go.” “No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”

The TARDIS brought the Doctor home, and this time, they stayed. Because it was a place where they wanted and needed to be.

#doctor who #doctor who spoilers #fourteenth doctor #donna noble #dw meta #dw spoilers #doctor who meta #meta writing

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itsagrimm · 2 months

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The escalated war of aggression on Ukraine continues and will have its 2 year annual on the 24th of February. Few seem to remember. I can't change much about the war. every war is viciously personal but this war is supposedly happening also in my name as someone who is Russian.

I have a friend from Kharkiv who get's panic attacks when there is a thunder storm. I have a girl in my classes who likes butterflies bc they were the first things she enjoyed when she managed to get out with her mother. I remember a couple from Odessa who told me about waking up from their house shaking bc of bombings. i am watching a Russian imperialist war in my name, removed from terror in my own unshaken house.

Currently I am teaching Ukrainian kids how to speak German and live in Germany. its going okay. But also weird bc what exactly can I teach 9 year olds who already speak 3 languages and fled a war zone. Except that i got yelled at last week for speaking a foreign language, that they need to be careful and that the german fascist party currently has 19% of the public vote according to polls.

Navalny is dead, murdered. Nadezhdyn is excluded from the election. The LGBT are declared an "extremist organisation" in Russia. Me and my Russian friends are facing not travelling back in the foreseeable future, not seeing family members possibly forever. But we are lucky as we are safe and we don't have to worry if Moscow will still exist or not if we manage to get back one day.

A lot of things are going on in the world right now. I am trying to have a piece of me available for people who need me. and i know my life is far from the worst i could experience. in fact i am very removed from immediate terror. it's like watching through milky glass and seeing only the shapes of a fucking war in my fucking name.

those 2 years were pointless. the dying and fleeing to a supposed safe land and fearing thunder storms and shaking houses could have been avoided. this war could just not be. Ethnic Russians never needed protections, especially not by Putin's army of mostly poor, criminalised, brain washed and forcibly enlisted soldiers marching into Ukraine. Russian imperialism can stop any day and it would be over. 2 years later this fact has not changed.

yes, i am tired and sad and can't do anything. but i am also really angry about this war in my name.

#grimmwriting #ukraine invasion #cn war #cn xenophobia

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makethatelevenrings · 9 months

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Angel By the Wing - Twenty Eight

chapter warnings: pregnancy, alcohol (it's a bar so)

Series Masterlist (Mobile Masterlist)

Despite the fact that this had never been your plan, that you were pregnant and couldn’t even drink, and you were bone tired, the Hard Deck seemed to be your happy place. The dark wood stained with rings from years of cold beer bottles enveloped you the moment you walked in. The walls were lined with memorabilia and photos of patrons, both civilians and servicemembers. Penny bought this place from a couple who opened it back in the 80s. The classic old bar feel was attributed to the fact that it truly was a classic old bar. The jukebox had been replaced so it could still play, but the music was usually rock from the past few decades.

There was something about this place that made you feel alive. You loved it here.

“How are you feeling?” Chelsea asked once you slid behind the bar to help her with the day’s prep.

“I am fine. Baby is fine. The boys literally pouted this morning when they realized they weren’t going to be able to come with me to the doctor,” you recounted. The bar had just opened at four and only a few customers were here. They were the typical crowd who wanted the bar experience but didn’t want to be here when it was a raucous mess.

A few orders for burgers and some appetizers were being worked on in the kitchen, so that left you to help Chelsea fix up the bar and take inventory of what bottles you had for the night.

“Oh, how far along are you?” A soft voice interrupted your counting. You looked up to find a woman seated at the bar. She was older, around Penny’s age, with a soft, plump face and bright green eyes. You offered her a polite smile, figuring she had just stopped off the plane considering she had a suitcase leaning up against her.

“Almost ten weeks.”

Her nose wrinkled up and she let out a hiss between her teeth. “First trimester is the worst, in my opinion. The nausea is always brutal.”

“Oh, my morning sickness hasn’t been too bad. It’s the fatigue that gets me.”

She nodded. “It’s as if the more you sleep, the more tired you are.”

“So it’s not just me? Thank god, it feels like I’m being drained of all energy.”

She laughed and shook her head. “No, it’s common. So this is your first?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Your smile softened at the thought of the ultrasound photo pinned to the fridge in your apartment. You don’t know when it shifted from “Jake’s place” to your place. From Bradley’s inability to put his shoes away to Jake’s propensity to strip off his sweaty workout clothes the second he walked in the front door to your collection of random pens ending up strewn across any and all surfaces in the house. The townhome with its two bedrooms, one for the three of you packed in tightly in the king sized bed and one that was a guest room for now but the soft whispers in the morning about what color should you paint the walls for the nursery was changing things.

“You must be very excited,” she continued.

“And nervous. Can I get you anything to drink? Eat?”

“A Long Island ice tea would be fantastic.”

Quick and simple. You placed the drink in front of her on top of a napkin and smiled. “What brings you to San Diego?”

She took a sip from her drink and waved her hand in the air. “Oh, you don’t need to listen to my life story. I’m sure you have to do this all night.”

Maybe so, but she was a lot nicer and more sober than your usual customers who slurred through sobbing tales about cheating exes and shitty bosses. You shrugged and grabbed a clean rag to work on wiping down the counter.

“If I didn’t want to hear about people’s lives, I would become an accountant or something.” Your smile grew. “So if you don’t tell me, I’m just going to have to come up with ideas. You’re a billionaire boss lady in town for a huge investment meeting. You’re a CIA agent who is trying to get information out of me, but I gotta warn you that I don’t know anything of importance. Or maybe you’re a travel blogger on the hunt for the best beaches in the world.”

She chuckled and shook her head. “No, no. Nothing like that. I’m just here to visit family.”

“And your first stop was a bar? Jeez, is your family that bad?”

Her smile fell slightly and you paused in your cleaning. “No. My son is amazing. Both of my kids are the absolute fucking light of my life. But I don’t know if this will be a happy trip.”

“Why’s that?”

She considered you for a moment, her head tilting to the side in a way that reminded you of Jake in the morning when he woke up too early and couldn’t process any words you said. Her lips curved up into a soft smile and she sighed.

“I’m not drunk enough yet for that conversation. Tell me about you. How are you feeling about becoming a mom?”

The words spilled out of you before you could stop them. You were a mixture of fear and elation, but you were starting to truly believe in this little family you had created. Two men saw the flaws in you and pushed past them. Penny and Sarah were the mothers you had craved your whole life. Natasha, Sofia, and Amelia were your sisters that you always dreamed of having.

Your cheeks ached from the smile that clung to your lips and you brightened as the door opened. Waving in greeting, Natasha and Sofia made their entrance and then went to claim their usual table. Their presence meant that the rest of the Dagger Squad would be on their way. Thanks to Sofia working as a medical receptionist on base, the couple carpooled to work and back.

“Give me one sec,” you told your faithful listener and turned to grab a beer for Natasha and a mojito for Sofia. You were finishing off the garnish on the mojito when two arms wrapped around your middle. Lips peppered your cheeks and the rough, scratchy beard immediately clued you into who it was.

“Hey, you two are not supposed to be behind the bar!” you chided. Bradley ignored your protests and instead buried his face against your neck. You sighed and shuffled yourself around so you could see the infamous Jake Seresin smirk.

“What is wrong with him?” you deadpanned.

“Sorry for missing you, darlin’. How’s you and baby doing?” The stitches on your arm stung when you pulled your arm to the side, but everything else was perfectly fine. When you told them as such, the relief on their faces was instant.

“C’mere, Tex,” you hummed. He settled his hands on your waist and bent his head down to lay a kiss on Bradley’s curls and then to your lips. You stopped him before he could deepen the kiss and shook your head with a laugh.

“Grab some beers, take these over to the others, and shoo. Go. Let me do my job.”

“Can you blame us for wanting to be with our girls all the time?” Bradley teased but he untangled himself from you. You rolled your eyes but the smile never left your face.

Until Jake turned around and met the eyes of the woman you spent the better part of an hour chatting with. He stilled and nearly dropped the beer he was holding if you hadn’t reached out and grabbed it.

“Mom?” Jake blurted out.

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#hangster x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #abtw #rooster x hangman x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader x jake seresin

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 2 months

Text

Holding on For Me ~Rita Calhoun xFem Younger!Partner!GradStudent!Reader (feat. Rafael Barba)

Summary— Rita gets hurt badly and ends in the hospital. Her two closest people, you and Rafael, come running. But you’ve never met each other, and now your partner’s and his best friend’s life hangs in the balance…

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: angst, then fluff, heavily implied physical assault, hospitals, near death experiences, bruising, implied scarring, crying, hyperventilating, implied anxiety attacks, happy fully ending, etc.

Enjoy (;

You rubbed your temples with a sigh as you stared at her dull computer screen and flipped the pages of your extensive notes. You was violently pulled out of your doctoral thesis research by the sound of your cell phone ringing. Eager for a distraction, you swiftly picked up the phone.

“Hi this is is Y/N!”

“Hello Ma’am. I am calling from Mercy Hospital, I have you listed as an emergency contact for one Rita Calhoun?”

Your heart dropped. Rita? What had happened? Was she okay??

“What happened? Is she okay??”

“She was brought in about 30 minutes ago… She’s currently in surgery, pretty banged up. I am just making my rounds and contacting her emergency numbers in case.”

“Ok thank you so much, I’ll be there in 15 minutes” you hastily replied.

As soon as the call had ended, you jumped up from your chair, your heart racing and your mind spiraling. You scurried around her apartment, collecting things that you or Rita might possibly need at the hospital, throwing all the miscellaneous items into a bag before storming out of the apartment. You were swift to hail a cab once out on the city streets, eagerly giving the address of the hospital. Was Rita going to be okay? What if they lose her before you got to the hospital?

The words hospital and surgery made your stomache sink. Your hands felt like they were going numb, and your mind seemed to only be able to come up with the worst possible scenarios on what could have happened to Rita. You bit at her lip anxiously, and you closed her eyes for the rest of the cab drive, too overwhelmed to bear the stimulus of sight at the moment. Did this have to do with Rita’s job? Maybe an ex-client or someone who’d threatened her? What was the last thing she said to Rita…??

As soon as the cab stopped outside of the hospital, you paid the driver and rushed inside the bustling ER doorway. You immediately found a nurse and asked about Rita, who led you to the waiting room for trauma surgery, a separate, more secluded area of the hospital. The nurse had not been able to tell you much, besides the fact that Rita was still in surgery. So you anxiously paced the little waiting room, biting your fingernails and feeling like you wanted to cry. ‘Pretty banged up’, how badly was her partner hurt? Why were you the only one here??

Memories of you and Rita flooded your mind. You remembered when you two first met, it was only a couple years ago, but you had grown so close since. You thought of all the late nights that you two had spent together, laughing and drinking until both of you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore. You remembered how much Rita worked, just how passionate she was about her job. And now in a matter of 15 minutes that could all be ripped away from you? Rita taken from so swiftly, so cruelly?

You approached the nearest nurses station and asked about your partner again. As you were trying to pry any and all information out of this poor young nurse, a man stormed into the waiting area. You had the slightest sense that she knew him from somewhere, but as he was pacing the room furiously, muttering certain choice words in Spanish, you couldn’t quite place it. Then the man came up to the desk where you were standing and spoke. What if these were Rita’s last waking moments…? How could you live with yourself if Rita didn’t make it…?

“Hi. Do you have any information about Rita Calhoun and how she’s doing?” The man asked rushedly.

Now that he was right next to you and after revealing he knew Rita, it clicked for you. This was Rafael, Rita’s best friend from her college years. The two had never formally met, you had seen a picture or two of him in Rita’s apartment (from the many nights that you’d had dinner and stayed over) and you had only heard about Rafael when Rita elected to talk about him. You knew that while they were good friends, there were wounds in their personal pasts, so you never pushed to meet him. Had Rafael and Rita ended on good terms in the last time they talked? Did he know if this was work related…??

“You’re Rafael…” you managed to breathe out.

You were surprised that you had even been able to get out one word with the lump in your throat. Rafael turned from the counter to face you, giving you a quizzical and slightly defensive look. How could this have happened? It had been going all so well, and now with a simple call, life has turned upside down…

“Yes. And you are?”

“Y/N. Rita’s partner.”

Rafael’s brows raised and his eyes glistened with intrigue. He seemed to decide that you were alright, because he sent you a confirming nod, before going back to grilling the nurse for more information. Had Rita been threatened…? Attacked? Taken??

Trying desperately not to cry in front of him or the hospital staff, your knees suddenly began to feel weak. Before you could catch herself, your legs buckled and you collapsed on the cold, hard, hospital floor. Rafael was quick to turn back towards you, giving you his hands to help stabilize your overstimulated state. Your weak form managed to make it to one of the waiting room seats, where Rafael promptly sat next to you. It was then that you noticed how much your entire body was shaking. Rita couldn’t die… No, she couldn't die… It just… She couldn't it…

“I… I didn’t know Rita had a partner.” He stammered aloud, breaking the silence of the two of you sitting in the hospital, both equally nervous wrecks.

You shrugged in response, not having the wherewithal to respond to that at the moment. Silent tears finally began to stream down your face, as you started to let it all out. You curled forward, holding your head in your hands as you sobbed for what felt like hours. How would you ever be happy again? You would never move on. You couldn’t. Rita was your everything… You couldn’t face losing her…

“I don’t know what I’ll… d-do if… If Rita…” you stuttered, not able to finish your statement, as your voice returned to choked sobs.

You felt a soft and gentle touch on your back, making you uncurl and meet Rafael’s own reddened gaze.

“Rita is one of the strongest, hard ass people I know. Ever since school… I have never seen a fighter quite like her. If anyone will make it, it’s her.”

“Thanks” you croaked out.

Awkward silence took the room, the only sound being the hustling and bustling of the hospital. Rafael eventually removed his hand from your back, as it began to feel like he was overstepping. But the second you lost that touch, you seemed to only feel worse.

“Do you know w-what h-happened…? Or w-why…?” You stammered out in a whisper.

Rafael leaned forward, his forearms coming to his knees with a heavy sigh.

“I know that she’s been facing scrutiny and backlash for the last case she took. but besides that I don’t know…” he breathed out.

You pulled your knees up onto your chair, wrapping your hands around your body for some semblance of control and comfort, as you let out a shaky sigh.

“S-so it is work related…?”

“I don’t know, Y/N, I’m sorry… Truthfully, I hadn’t talked to her since she took that case, I was the lead prosecutor and we… we had a bit of a fallout over it…” Rafael gritted out.

His defensiveness seemed to have vanished, all that being left being the vulnerable, close friend of Rita’s. His knuckles were white from how hard he was squeezing his hands.

“Christ the last thing I probably did was yell at her to get out of my office…” he confessed, looking down to the ground with shame and guilt.

“I… I can’t even r-remember what the last thing I said to her was…” you choked out through violent sobs.

Rafael looked up at your wailing and his hand came out, caressing your shoulder lightly. He squeezed your trembling form reassuringly.

“I’m sure you told her how much you loved her…” he softly comforted you.

“I don’t know… I d-don’t know…” you changed in a whisper, starting to rock back and forth anxiously in the seat.

“Hey. Take some deep breaths… She’s going to be okay.”

Your glossy eyes met his reddened ones and you two just connected. All because of Rita. You were so grateful that she had found a friend like Rafael. And Rafael was grateful that she had someone like you to support her as a partner. Suddenly you were both drawn back to the crushing reality by a nurse coming up to you with a file in hand.

Rafael immediately stood and walked right up to her, demanding answers. You couldn’t get yourself to stand, so you merely looked up at the two standing adults with pleading eyes.

“Are you family?”

You both nodded vigorously.

“How is she? What happened?? Can we see her…??” Rafael demanded.

“EMT’s responded to a Good Samaritan call who found her in an alley… The ambulance brought her here to Mercy and she’s been in surgery ever since. It was a little touch and go, she has a concussion, multiple lacerations, a four broken ribs, scattered bruising, and a shattered left forearm…”

Your mouth went dry at the nurses words and you couldn’t think as tears began to stream down your face once more. Your lip trembled as you bit it, attempting to stifle your sobs.

“Can we see here??” Rafael immediately asked.

“Yes you may see her, she’s finally out, and she’s somewhat awake. I’ll take you to her, But take it slow, she has a long road to recovery…” the nurse said.

Rafael let out a sigh of relief and he quickly turned to you. Extending his arm, he helped you up and down the hall towards Rita’s private room. The nurse let you in, closing the door behind the two of you.

Rita looked peaceful for a moment, lying in the bed, but as she began to wake up, pain flooded across her face. Practically all of her exposed skin was bruised and battered, the biggest being her black eye. Her eye widened as much as she could widen them at the sight of you and Rafael.

“Holy fuck…” Rita winced in pain as we tried to sit up.

You immediately rushed next to her, sitting at the edge of the bed. The older brunette leaned back again, giving up the idea of sitting up properly for her moment, instead meekly attempting to reach out to you with her right hand, and you eagerly met her more than half-way, taking her hand and kissing it over and over again as tears of joy steamed down your cheeks.

“Rita Rita… God I’m so glad you’re okay… How are you feeling…?” you whispered, continuing your love and tender assault on her hand.

“Hi baby… I’m… in a whole lot of fucking pain, but I’ll live…” she breathed out in confession.

Rita smiled lightly back. But even that seemed to hurt her, as she winced lightly again. Rafael was standing at the end of the bed with his hands in his pockets as he watched the two of you. His eyes softeners watching your dynamic, he scolded himself for being so goddamn stubborn. Because if he hadn’t been, Rita might have introduced him to you…

“Oh Baby don’t move, stay still. Doctors orders you need to rest. Don’t want you getting more hurt…” you pleaded caringly and with much love.

“She’s a stubborn hardass. Doctor’s orders won’t stop her…” Rafael teasingly cooed, meeting Rita’s gaze.

Rita rolled her eyes at her closest friend.

“Shut up, you idiot… Now come over here and hug me.” Rita shot back with the same teasing tone.

Rafael chuckled, looked down to the ground as he made his way around to the opposing side of the bed, releasing his hands from his pockets, the man leaned over and gave his friend a proper embrace.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry… I’m so glad you’re alive” Rafael whispered to Rita, before retracting slightly, but staying close and gazing at her caringly.

Rita wanted to cup his cheek and pull him close, tell Rafi that it was all good, but her drugs were at a heavy dosage and soon they began to pull her back into unconsciousness.

“It’s… okay Rafaellll…—” she mumbled before dozing off.

Your gaze then met Rafael’s, coming to an understanding that neither of you would be leaving anytime soon.

~~~

Rita Calhoun Masterlist ~Coming Soon (;

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ofoceansandtombsanew · 2 months

Text

I Cherish You, Halcyon Days: prologue.

“You’re gonna die, kid. In the worst way possible.”

tags: afab!reader (she/her), angst, slow burn

pairing: gojou x reader + onesided!getou x reader

summary: You’re 15 years old when you’re told you’re going to die. You’re 17 years old when you realize who your killer will be. And you’re 17 years old when you make peace with the fact you wouldn’t want it any other way.

index | next chapter

In the summer of 1997 when I was 7, I almost drowned at the beach.

It was one of those summers where you watch a movie and things felt whimsical because you watched one movie about a group of kids going on a life-changing adventure you’d never go on yourself. You looked for magic in your daily life because even the smallest thing could be what led to you stumbling upon a new journey. My life-changing adventure movie? Free Willy, the movie about that foster kid and an orca. My aunt, a marine biologist, who showed me the movie always said the ocean was her greatest love. I got what she meant when I saw that movie. So that summer I spent at my aunt’s place in Enoshima was the summer I decided I’d go on some sort of adventure myself.

My expectation? Freeing Mina the beluga whale and swimming on her back to wherever the beluga whales came from. I would have even taken Kukki the dugong who I sometimes fed extra fish to when no one was looking.

What I actually got? Getting caught up in an undertow at Higashihama Beach.

Yeah, not my dream summer experience.

Undertow wasn’t a concept foreign to me at that time. Auntie warned me all about itー about how sometimes the currents below and above the surface went in separate directions.

“Don’t fight it when that happens,” she told me. “You’ll tire yourself out and drown. I know it’ll be scary but if you ever get caught in undertow, don’t fight. Go with the current and once it subsides, that’s when you swim back.”

That advice was far from my mind when I actually got caught in one though.

I screamed and thrashed and fought and fought, I probably pissed in the water twice too to boot.

And yet ー and I’m not entirely sure why ー a calm suddenly fell over me and I remembered Auntie’s words.

It would be scary, but don’t fight it.

Five minutes later, I swam back to shore and cried for ten minutes while my aunt held me.

Scary was one hell of an understatement.

I swore up and down I’d never go to the beach again. I never wanted to feel that scared again, never ever. My aunt didn’t disparage me for it, though. Didn’t tell me to toughen up. She simply took me to get shaved ice when I calmed down; said when you conquer your fear and come out on top, you should always treat yourself to something nice.

“It’s okay to be scared, [First],” she smiled softly. “Some people might say otherwise, but you know something, Auntie doesn’t think fear is a bad thing. Fear can be really good sometimes. Fear is what tells you not to do something that could lead to you getting hurt. It teaches you when not to do something stupid or dangerous. Sometimes, fear is what you should listen to instead of the ‘what if things actually go right’s. Fear only becomes bad when there’s too much of it. When you let being scared rule your life so you don’t live it.

“So it’s okay to be scared. Just promise auntie that you won’t let fear stop you from moving forward. Whether it’s rejection, worries a leap of faith will lead to you falling completely on your ass or that it might not be okay to say something when you know you should.

Live like you feel it and love like you mean it.

Don’t let the fear get to you.”

It took about a week before I was diving right back into the deep blue all over again.

Name: [Full Name] ♀ D/O/B: December 9, 1989 Age: 15

Sorcerer Lineage: Non-sorcerer lineage Enrollment method: Scouted

Recruiter: Yaga Masamichi

Notes: Student was encountered May 5, 2005

Testimony of the recruiter: At the site of Tsubame High School’s test of courage, a second grade curse appeared. [Last] activated her innate technique to protect herself and her fellow students and was able to keep the curse at a standstill until sorcerers arrived on the scene to exorcize the curse. While there were students injured, none of the injuries were fatal mostly due to [Last]’s quick application of her ability. According to the student, she began being able to utilize her innate technique around the age of 10.

Jujutsu

Student’s Innate Technique: Shields

“Rejection” Student’s abilities manifest as her cursed energy condensing into an object that rejects negative events outside of it effectively, creating shields of various sizes. This ability is one that is purely defensive and does not seem to have any offensive capabilities. As it stands, should the student make timely progress during the initial stages of her enrollment during this first year ー should she not disenroll or meet an untimely end ー it isn’t recommended to give her solo assignments.

Notes: “Rejection” is what the student in question chooses to refer to this ability as.

Interview Question Answer: “Why I want to enroll? Because I’m scared of this curse stuff.”

index | next chapter

#look she's writing #jjk x reader #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #getou x reader #geto x reader #i cherish you halcyon days #shout to my girl orihime for the power inspo i love you bbygrl

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and-justice-for-zoisite · 11 months

Text

𝕊𝕥𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕪𝕠𝕦 (Fujin x Reader)

Official Masterlist - Part 2

Summary: As confusion and desire intertwine, you embark on a journey to discover that sometimes, the person we seek is closer than we realize, and the true source of warmth and affection may have been by our side all along.

Word Count: 5.5k

Based off the song 'Stupid for you' by Waterparks. Enjoy! :)

youtube

Hey, tell me what you want me to say,

You know I'm stupid for you.

You swore on your mother's life that you'd do anything for him.

Hey, can you come and come out and play,

You know I'm stupid for you.

But why would your love and devotion be of any use to him?

A wind god? Returning feelings for his reckless human friend?

He was way out of your league and that fact had been taunting you since the second you realised you had the biggest crush on him.

You're a symphony, I'm just a sour note.

Not to mention his ridiculously over protective brother, who, of course, was another god. If he found out that you had a crush on Fujin, then he'd do anything in his power to prevent the two of you forming a romantic relationship. Oh, and god forbid - no pun intended - if you and Fujin on the off chance did become an item. That was a death wish, the man would smite you.

But, a girl could dream.

So there you sat, on a pretty, grassy, cute little hill just outside the Shaolin temples, where you'd grown up and trained. At first, you were hiding from your good friends Liu Kang and Kung Lao after pulling a horrifying prank that involved water, flour and feathers. But when they never found you, you found yourself still out on the hill as the sun was setting. You hated being alone because that meant you had to think - be in your own head.

Now, Raiden didn't particularly like you for your reputation of not always thinking things through, and when you were intentionally doing something, it was usually a prank. You were an idiot, you knew that. That also meant that you'd never make any breathless impression on your dear Fujin, and that would eat you up inside til the end of time.

"You're not usually out here on your own."

You were startled at the sound of a voice, whipping your head around to see who spoke. You didn't have to turn around to know it was Fujin, but of course out of instinct you did anyways.

God, you'd never get tired of looking at him. He was such a beautiful man, with his pretty, long snowy white hair and his pretty, glowing eyes matching his pretty body. You always had to physically stop yourself from gasping or sighing whenever you saw him.

"Y-yeah, I..." you fumbled over your words, scratching the back of your head sheepishly, "...just needed to catch some air and a second to think." "So, you're okay?" he asked, approaching you before crouching down beside you on the grass. "Course I am..." you sighed, looking down, "...sorta." "What's on your mind, feather?"

That name he called you, of all things, would be the blissful death of you.

“I don’t know…” you sighed, letting your shoulders sag as you laced your fingers into the grass, “…it’s just, I hate being alone, because when I'm alone it makes me think, and when I think, there’s usually only one thing I think of.”

“and that would be?” Fujin further pried, your face flushing red as you looked away from him.

“a someone. a someone who makes me feel all weird and fuzzy inside, a someone who can make me smile even on the worst of my days,” you explained, feeling your heart beat harshly against your own ribcage, “someone who I want more than anything.”

“What’s stopping you from obtaining them, (Y/n)?” he asked, tilting his head at you curiously.

“Well, that’s my dilemma,” you huffed hopelessly, still too afraid to look him in the eyes, “he’s not someone I can obtain. He’s way out of my league - probably doesn’t even experience emotions like I do. But that’s okay, this silly little school-girl crush of mine will fade away one day. But for now, it’ll eat me up inside til it does go away.”

“Have you ever even asked this someone if he reciprocated these feelings?”

You felt your insides turn when Fujin brushed against your side, properly sitting on the grass next to you but also much closer to you than he was before. Your face was radiating a harsh heat, and you were certain you were bright red. To avoid allowing him to see this, you simply cleared your throat and continued to look away from him.

“I’m certain he would never feel the same, it’s impossible,” you assured him, looking out into the distance as to allow the cold breeze to cool your face.

“But how do you know that?”

You felt him lean in closer, pressing the side of his body to yours, and his hand behind you as he leaned back. You felt as though you were about to go into cardiac arrest with how fast your little heart was beating.

Your voice was barely above a whisper as you struggled to find the words to respond.

"I... I've never had the courage to ask. Besides, it's not like he would be interested in someone like me. I'm just an ordinary mortal, and he's a...a literal god."

Fujin's presence beside you felt both comforting and electrifying. You could sense his genuine concern as he spoke softly, his breath tickling your ear.

"You underestimate yourself, (Y/n). Love doesn't discriminate based on mortal or godly status. It's a force that transcends such boundaries."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you turned to face him, finally meeting his intense gaze. His eyes held a mixture of sincerity and longing, and it took your breath away.

"But what if I get rejected? What if I ruin our friendship? I don't want to lose him."

Fujin's hand reached out, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek.

"I understand your fears, but sometimes, taking a chance is worth the risk. Regret is a heavier burden to carry than the fear of rejection. And true friendship can weather any storm."

His touch sent a surge of warmth through you, and you couldn't deny the growing desire within your heart.

"Fujin, what are you trying to say?"

He smiled softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm saying that sometimes, the person we seek is closer than we realize. And sometimes, the one who has been there all along is the one who can make you feel those fuzzy, warm emotions you long for."

Confusion and bewilderment warred within you as you tried to process his words. You had never been so close to Fujin, so close that you could literally feel his body pressed against yours, though you didn't dare turn your head to look at him, for you were afraid that if you tried, you'd explode from nerve.

"There she is!!"

Before you could say anything more, this tender moment was interrupted by the likes of your two friends who had been searching for you for quite a while. Panic set in as you remembered what you did, and you got up to try and run away from them. However, they were quick to catch up to you, Lao quick to grab onto you and throw you over his shoulder.

"You thought we'd forgotten about you?" Liu teased, yourself scoffing as you shook your head. "Sure took you guys a while," she taunted, trying to wriggle free from her friend's grip, "have fun getting all those feathers off?" "Oh, we're gonna have some fun alright," Lao snickered, effortlessly holding you still enough with only one of his arms, "how does a nice, long soak in the nearby lake sound? Feathered and all?"

Your face paled in realization, and you looked toward Fujin as they began taking you away.

"Come on guys, you know I was only joking, right?" you tried reasoning with them, though they weren't taking any of it. "Fujin! Save me!" you begged him, though your pleading was in vain as he simply laughed at your misfortune.

"This sounds like a battle I shouldn't interfere with," Fujin chuckled, throwing you a playful salute, "good luck, my feather."

He winked at you, and that little action shot straight through you like one of cupid's stupid little love arrows.

Oh dear...you really were...what was the word? Oh,

down tremendously bad.

Once you reached the lake, you resigned yourself to the fate that awaited you, accepting the inevitable dunking and subsequent laughter that would follow.

As they prepared to toss you into the water, you closed your eyes and braced yourself, trying to push away the lingering thoughts of Fujin.

At least the dunking took your mind off of it all...

Watching with affection, Fujin stayed sat on that little hill as you were carried away from him by your two vengeful friends who were ready to exact that sweet revenge on you. Consequences are a good thing, and an entertaining thing as well. Perhaps next time you wouldn't get so flustered in his presence.

Though, Fujin couldn't deny the way your presence made his own being feel, like he could hardly control himself. His heart was still beating hard in his chest from how close he had managed to get himself to you. Your touch was like no other, and your status of mere mortal meant nothing to him.

He wanted you, but naturally, someone was in the way.

"Brother."

Fujin didn't even turn around when he heard the voice of his brother call his name. Even though he said nothing, Raiden knew he had acknowledged his presence.

"A word?" Raiden requested, stern as ever as Fujin simply gave a single nod and waited for him to continue.

"You should know better than this, Fujin," Raiden warned him. "Better than what?" Fujin asked in response, playing dumb though he already knew what he was getting at. "Falling in love with a mortal," Raiden clarified, the anger in his voice raising ever so slightly, "What did I tell you about getting attached to humans?? Especially her of any." "I know what you've told me, brother," Fujin replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of defiance and vulnerability, "but love cannot be controlled or dictated by our divine status. It chooses its own path, and it has chosen her." "You have become weak, Fujin. For letting something as insignificant as a human girl interfere with your duties," Raiden scoffed.

Fujin's gaze hardened as he faced his brother, his voice laced with determination.

"Love may be unpredictable, Raiden, but it is not a weakness. It brings strength and purpose to our existence. She is not just any mortal girl; she is extraordinary in her own way. And I refuse to stand idle while you belittle her significance."

"You are treading on dangerous ground, brother. Mortals are fleeting, and their emotions can cloud judgment."

Standing suddenly, Fujin refused to face his brother any longer.

"I have made my decision," he stated firmly, his voice carrying a sense of resolve. "I will not let fear dictate my actions or dampen the potential for happiness that she brings into my life. If you cannot understand that, then perhaps you have forgotten the value of compassion and connection."

He didn't bother listen for a response, or even look back to see if his words had meant anything to his brother. Instead, Fujin went elsewhere, anywhere to be away from the daunting aura that was his overprotective brother.

Fujin found solace in the tranquillity of the Shaolin temples, seeking refuge in the familiar surroundings. As he walked through the hallowed halls, memories of his past flooded his mind. He had always been dutiful, dedicated to upholding the balance and protecting Earthrealm. But now, his heart was torn between his responsibilities and his growing affection for you.

As he contemplated his next move, a soft voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Lost in contemplation, Fujin?"

He turned to see Master Bo' Rai Cho, one of the wise elders of the Shaolin Order. Rai Cho had always been a source of guidance and wisdom for Fujin, he knew much about human matters, like feelings and desires, and he knew he could confide in him.

"Master Rai Cho," Fujin greeted respectfully, "I find myself facing a dilemma. My duty as a god and my feelings for someone."

Rai Cho's eyes twinkled with understanding as he motioned for Fujin to join him in the temple's courtyard. They sat beneath the shade of a cherry blossom tree, the delicate petals falling around them like whispers of the wind.

"Love is a complex path, my young friend," Rai Cho began, his voice carrying the weight of his years of wisdom though it was ironic considering Fujin had been around much longer than he had. "It often leads us to unexpected places, challenging our perceptions and teaching us valuable lessons."

Fujin listened intently, his gaze fixed on the falling petals.

"You have been blessed with a divine nature, Fujin, but that doesn't mean you are immune to the joys and sorrows of mortal emotions," Rai Cho continued. "Love knows no boundaries, and sometimes it defies logic and expectations. It's a force that can move mountains and transform lives."

Fujin sighed, a mixture of frustration and longing in his voice.

"But what if my feelings jeopardize my role as a protector? What if my attachment to her compromises the safety of Earthrealm?"

Rai Cho smiled warmly, placing a reassuring hand on Fujin's shoulder.

"Balance is not found by denying our emotions, but by embracing them and channelling them in harmony with our purpose. Love can strengthen your resolve, reminding you of the importance of safeguarding not just realms, but also the hearts of those you care about."

Fujin pondered Rai Cho's words, the weight of his responsibilities gradually finding equilibrium with his desire for love and connection.

"I understand, Master Rai Cho," Fujin replied, determination lacing his voice. "I will find a way to balance my duty and my feelings, for her and for Earthrealm."

Rai Cho nodded approvingly, his aged smile endearing.

"Remember, Fujin, the path you choose may not be easy, but true love is worth the trials it brings. Trust in your own strength and the bond you share with her."

With newfound resolve, Fujin rose from beneath the cherry blossom tree. His heart felt lighter, and a sense of purpose infused his every step.

"Thank you, Master Rai Cho. Your guidance has cleared my path."

This was certainly not the first time you laid wide awake in your room, on your cosy little bed. You were someone who found it very difficult to sleep, but once you did get to sleep, you were out for a long while.

The events of the day replayed in your mind like a broken record, and you couldn't help but wonder what on earth it was all about. What on earth Fujin was about. The feeling of his touch, the intensity of his gaze, and the way his words lingered in the air had left an indelible mark on your heart.

You were confused, and because of that, obviously unable to sleep.

The moonlight spilled through your window, casting a gentle glow on your restless form. Thoughts swirled in your mind like a tempestuous storm, and you found yourself yearning for clarity.

In the midst of your contemplation, a soft breeze brushed against your skin, carrying a delicate fragrance that stirred a sense of familiarity. You turned your gaze towards the open window, and there, sitting on the outer part of your window sill, was Fujin.

You were visibly a little startled and surprised by his sudden presence, especially considering you had only been thinking of him moments ago. But naturally, his presence would never be unwelcome to you.

He seemed ethereal, his features illuminated by the moon's gentle rays. His eyes, so full of warmth and understanding, met yours, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of comfort wash over you. With a silent invitation, he entered your room and closed the window behind him.

"Fujin, what are you doing here?" you whispered, a mix of surprise and anticipation lacing your voice.

He approached your bed and took a seat beside you, his presence radiating a sense of calm. His voice was soft as he spoke, carrying a hint of vulnerability.

"I can sense when you are stirring, feather," he admitted, looking down at you, "I came to see what was wrong." "I stir all the time, Fujin," you sighed, smiling at him as you shuffled in your bed, "nothing's wrong." "You're a terrible liar, (Y/n)," Fujin chuckled, causing your face to flush red as you avoided eye contact, "mind if I lay down beside you?"

You were surprised by his request, and almost too flustered to say anything in response. Though, how silly would you be to pass up such an opportunity to be close to him once again?

"B-be my guest..." you stammered, shuffling over and making room for him.

His smile was gentle as he laid his back down against your bed, his presence radiating a sense of serenity. You couldn't help but feel a wave of comfort wash over you as you settled closer to him, your sides pressed together in comfortable familiarity.

As you both lay there in the moonlit room, a comfortable silence enveloped you. The weight of the world seemed to fade away, and it was just the two of you, sharing a moment of quiet intimacy.

"Fujin," you finally broke the silence, your voice barely a whisper, "I can't stop thinking about you."

Fujin turned his head to meet your gaze, his eyes shimmering with tenderness and longing. The vulnerability in his expression mirrored your own, and you could sense the depth of his emotions.

He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"I can't stop thinking about you either, (Y/n)," he admitted, his voice filled with a mix of yearning and sincerity.

His admission filled the air with an electric tension, drawing you closer to him both physically and emotionally. The world around you seemed to fade into the background as your focus narrowed on the intensity of your connection.

"...Fujin!"

The distant shout of the wind god's name tore the two of you out of your intimate trance. You both recognised that voice, it was his brother, and he obviously needed his assistance.

With a sigh, Fujin got up from off of your bed, and you sat up as you watched him brush himself off.

"I'm sorry, feather, this shouldn't take too long," he apologised, yourself shaking your head. "I understand, it's alright," you assured him, your smile sweet.

With that, he bid you a hasty farewell and made his way toward where he was called to, somewhere you could only guess as you laid back down with an exasperated sigh.

His promise that it wouldn't take long would be false, as he wouldn't return for the rest of the night.

This was ridiculous, it was as if the universe itself conspired to keep you on the edge, never allowing you to fully immerse yourself in the depth of your feelings for him.

You were so confused, aching with longing.

You needed guidance, someone to confide in who could offer an outside perspective. With a determined resolve, you made up your mind to seek counsel from an unlikely source - Liu Kang and Kung Lao.

Despite the fact that they were mischievous troublemakers themselves, they had a bond with you that ran deep. They were your closest friends, and their opinions mattered to you. Perhaps they could provide some much-needed clarity or at least lend a sympathetic ear.

The next morning, you found yourself sitting in the courtyard of the Shaolin temples, waiting for Liu and Lao to arrive. The sun was shining brightly, and the peaceful ambiance of the temple grounds brought a sense of calmness to your anxious mind. The cherry blossom trees swayed gently in the breeze, their petals falling like soft whispers of encouragement.

Before long, the two boys appeared, their faces lit up with mischievous grins as they spotted you.

"There she is! The feathered prankster herself!" Lao exclaimed, his voice filled with playful enthusiasm.

The two boys sat either side of you, and you greeted them with a meek smile.

Taking a deep breath, you stared at the ground for a moment, gathering your thoughts.

"I... I need to talk to you guys about something," you finally said, your voice filled with vulnerability.

The mischievous grins on their faces faded, replaced by concern and genuine curiosity.

"Of course, (Y/n). You know we're here for you," Liu reassured, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"Before I tell either of you anything, you gotta promise not to laugh at me," you told them, pointing a finger between them, "I already know how ridiculous this situation is, I don't need any reminders." "You have our word," Liu assured you, giving Lao a warning eye as he was known to be quite a smart-ass.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts before opening up about your feelings for Fujin, the turmoil they caused within you, and your fears of rejection and losing your friendship. You spoke from the heart, baring your soul to your friends, hoping that they would understand.

As you finished sharing your innermost thoughts and feelings, a heavy silence hung in the air. The boys exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from surprise to contemplation.

Lao spoke up first, his voice laced with empathy.

"You've really got it bad, don't you?"

You nodded, unable to hide the truth any longer.

"Bad is an understatement," you sighed, rubbing your forehead in frustration. "I'm just so...confused. I mean, I can't even tell if he likes me or if he's just being really extra nice." "Oh, come on!" Kung Lao exasperated, "isn't it obvious?? Even we saw the way he was cosied up to you yesterday! Even if he's way out of your league."

You slapped Lao on the shoulder at his teasing, an annoyed yet somewhat amused grimace on your face which could also reflect a knowing smile.

"What happened to 'no one's good enough for you (Y/n). We'll protect you from all the yucky boys (Y/n)'," you asked him, referring to how he and Liu used to treat you when you were all kids. "Well, what am I supposed to say when a literal god is your love interest? 'No, (Y/n), I forbid you from dating an all mighty wind god! The literal deity isn't good enough for you! Now go to your room and think about what you've done'."

You all laughed at Kung Lao's little bit, revelling in the atmosphere which was lightened by his humour. Though, ever the more thought friend, Liu chimed in with a more benevolent perspective.

"I understand your concerns, (Y/n), but I've seen the way Fujin looks at you. There's a depth of emotion in his eyes that is hard to ignore," Liu Kang said, his voice filled with sincerity.

"He's right," Lao added, his mischievous grin replaced by a genuine smile. "Fujin may be a god, but that doesn't mean he's immune to love. And if anyone can capture his heart, it's you, even if you're a hand full." "Oh, I'll show you a hand full, Kung Poa," you provoked him in a playful way, pushing him over where he sat.

Lao was quick to retaliate as he got up and engaged in some light hearted roughhousing with you. While you were skilled in kombat, Lao was definitely stronger than you, and such a slow paced and unsophisticated form of kombat had you in a chokehold in mere minutes. Liu much preferred watching the two of you engaged in these childish activities, so he simply sat and watched with a sweet smile, though shaking his head.

"I rest my case," Lao grinned, ruffling your hair as you struggled to remove yourself from his armpit. "I'm not finished with you yet," you groaned, biting his arm like a rabid chihuahua.

He yelped at the feeling and let go of you, rubbing his arm.

"Hey, you little turd! That's dirty!" he exclaimed, yourself shrugging with a mischievous smirk on your face. "I didn't know we were playing by rules," you said, playing dumb. "You're gonna regret that," he declared, running at you and tackling you to the ground.

The two of you toppled over, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, Lao had his hands at your sides and was tickling you like there was no tomorrow.

You shrieked, squirming and trying to escape his grip though ultimately he had found your weak spot. You were screaming and laughing, and screaming and laughing, trying to pry his arms away from you.

"Ah!!! Ah...mercy! Mercyyyyyy!!!" you begged, your face bright red from how hard you were laughing. "Not for you!" he snickered, tickling you harder at this to which you only screamed more.

He tickled you until there were tears falling down your face. Kung Lao backed off to take you in, watching as your body twitched from the assault, and as you tried to regain your breath.

"From all this screaming, I thought someone was being mercilessly killed."

The three of you turned your heads toward the familiar voice who spoke, finding Fujin standing a few feet away from you and Lao. You had no idea how long he had been standing there, and you hoped to god he hadn't witnessed you go into sensory overload with all that tickling funny business just before.

Kung Lao held a hand out for you, and you took it, the boy pulling you up onto your feet as he habitually brushed you off a little like a parent ensuring that their child was presentable.

"Lord Fujin," Liu greeted the wind god, his words formal though his demeanour was casual, "how are you?" "I am well, Liu Kang," Fujin nodded, looking between all of you, "I assume you all are as well from the laughter." "Always," Liu smiled.

Lao nudged you,

"Go on, talk to him!" he whisper yelled, obviously trying to conceal your conversation though everyone around could easily hear. "Lao! Quit it!" you whisper yelled back, back handing his arm in a scolding way. "C'mon, he's right here, talk to him about it!"

"Oh? Talk to me about what?"

You and Lao paused your little squabble to look at Fujin again, his white brow cocked in amusement. The way he was looking at you caught you off guard, and your face flushed bright red.

"Oh, uh...it's nothing...nothing important," you spluttered, laughing nervously as you scratched the back of your neck in a sheepish way. "Nothing important my ass," Lao muttered.

You went to hit your friend again, but Fujin spoke up.

"Oh, come now, my feather," he said to you, tilting his head ever so slightly, "why don't you come walk with me? I have something I'd like to talk to you about as well."

By this point, you were all boiling and flustered, from the heat which emanated off your pretty little - though very bright red - face. You didn't say anything, you only nodded and joined him.

As you walked away, you looked back at your two friends. Liu gave you a thumbs up, while Kung Lao made a motion with his hands which simulated two people kissing. You were done with his antics, so you simply stuck your tongue out at him and continued on.

The gardens of the Shaolin temples were always a sight for sore eyes around this time of the year, as the flame trees and the cherry blossoms bloomed in unison and created a beautifully juxtaposed clash in colour as their petals fell around the two of you.

The atmosphere was filled with a gentle breeze, carrying with it the faint scent of flowers and a sense of anticipation.

As you walked side by side, you stole glances at Fujin, unsure of what to expect from this conversation. The nervousness inside you was almost palpable, but you were determined to address just what on earth was going on between the two of you.

"Fujin, I... I wanted to talk to you about something that's been on my mind," you began, your voice carrying a hint of hesitation.

He turned to you, his glowing eyes locking with yours. There was a softness in his gaze that put you somewhat at ease.

"I just...I want to address what...w-what..."

You stammered, lost for words as you tried to search for something, anything to say, thankful for Fujin's patient nature. You realised that there was no easy way to say any of this to him, and you figured you may as well rip the band aid off.

You stopped in front of him abruptly, shaking a little though your eyes screamed determination.

"Fujin, what am I to you?"

Fujin paused for a moment, his eyes studying your face intently. His expression softened, and he stepped closer to you, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear as he twirled one around his finger. You took a moment to enjoy the closeness, revelling in his all and everything, your eyes fixated on his.

You felt him drawing nearer to you, his face only mere inches away, so close that you could feel his warm breath on your face. You were frozen, stuck in place with shock, unable to react as you remained focused on his keen eyes.

"To me, my feather," he whispered, his eyes looking between your own and your lips, "you are everything. You are the soft whisper of the wind that brings calmness to my chaotic existence. You are the warmth of the sun that brightens my days. You are the strength and resilience that inspires me to fight for what is right..."

His fingers found your jawline, tracing it delicately as he brought his fingers down to your chin and drew your face upward a little. He gently brushed his thumb over your lips.

"...and most importantly, you are the beating of my eternal heart."

His eyes flickered between your own and your lips, as though he were asking permission to take a step further.

You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, matching the rhythm of his words. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, and your mind raced with a mixture of anticipation, fear, and desire.

Without uttering a single word, you leaned in, closing the remaining distance between you. The world around you seemed to fade away as your lips met in a gentle and tender kiss. It was a moment of pure connection, a fusion of emotions and longing that had been building between you for so long.

You felt his hands caress either side of your waste, and your own found themselves reaching for his body as well, one grabbing his tattooed bicep and the other laced itself in his soft hair.

As the kiss deepened, time seemed to stand still. Every touch, every sensation sent electric currents through your body, igniting a fire within you. It was as if the universe itself had aligned to bring the two of you together, erasing any doubts or uncertainties that once plagued your mind.

Lost in the moment, you allowed yourself to surrender to the passion that consumed you. Your lips moved in perfect harmony, expressing a language of desire and affection that words could never capture. Each kiss spoke volumes, conveying the depth of your emotions and the unspoken promises of a love yet to fully bloom.

Fujin held you close, his touch both gentle and possessive, as if he never wanted to let you go. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, providing a sense of security and belonging that you had yearned for. In his arms, you felt cherished and protected, a feeling that washed away any remaining doubts and fears.

When you finally pulled apart, breathless and with hearts racing, you gazed into each other's eyes. You didn't say anything - you couldn't say anything. Fujin chuckled, breathily and quietly.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," Fujin admitted, light hearted and giggly though his voice filled with sincerity and vulnerability.

You laughed quietly in disbelief.

"I'm dreaming...I must be," you chuckled, your brows furrowed in confusion.

Fujin shook his head, a soft smile playing on his lips as he reached out to cup your cheek.

"I can pinch you if you'd like," he teased, "though I assure you, this is very real." "I don't know about a pinch, but..." you began, eyeing him mischievously, "...maybe another kiss might convince me?"

Fujin's eyes sparkled with amusement, and he leaned in once again, capturing your lips in a sweet and lingering kiss.

As your lips danced together, you felt a sense of completeness wash over you. The doubts and uncertainties that once clouded your mind seemed to fade away, replaced by a newfound confidence and clarity. In this moment, you realized that you had taken the first step towards a beautiful journey with Fujin, a journey filled with love, growth, and shared experiences.

Hopefully his brother wouldn't be too much of an issue...

I'm kinda tempted to write a part 2?? but idk, we'll see if y'all agree w me.

#fujin x reader #mk11 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 11 #mortal kombat x reader #fujin #fujin mortal kombat

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marvelmusing · 1 year

Text

In Another Life

Part Ten

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Alternate Universe!Reader

Summary: The hunt for the sea whip has begun, but a number of obstacles stand in your way, demanding more from you than you ever thought possible.

Warnings: canon level violence, heartrender attacks the reader, near death experiences, mentions of blood and death, fainting.

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist • Next Part

“General Kirigan.”

Sturmhond greets Aleksander with a nod, as he moves away from the railing that overlooks the docks, before he smiles brightly at you. Aleksander glances between the two of you for a brief moment before he responds.

“Sturmhond, I presume.”

The privateer’s smile twists into his usual confident smirk.

“I see my reputation precedes me.”

Aleksander doesn’t seem impressed.

“My assistant tells me you have a ship and crew ready for us.”

Sturmhond gestures out to the docks, where you see a large whaling ship being prepared to sail.

“I’m not even going to ask where you got that from.” You remark, looking over at the large ship in front of you.

“Now you’re getting the hang of things.” He teases with a smirk, nudging your shoulder and you roll your eyes despite your smile.

“The previous owner won’t be giving us any trouble, will they?” You ask with a raised brow.

He shakes his head, confident smile unfazed by your questioning.

“They shouldn’t do.”

“If you want our money, you will need to do better than shouldn’t do.” Aleksander states clearly.

Confusion in your eyes, you glance over at him but struggle to read his expression. Whatever is on his mind is something that you haven’t seen from him before.

Sturmhond eyes you for a moment, and you shrug in response.

“I won that vessel, fair and square, last night.” He states smoothly, looking straight at Aleksander.

Sturmhond’s face softens into something teasing as he looks over at you.

“Your assistant here clearly just believes the worst of me.” With that he winks at you, and rocks back on his heels before he turns and strolls away.

Blinking a few times, you adjust the collar of your coat as you frown.

“What was that?”

“I think he likes you.”

That only confuses you even more.

“Oh.”

“Perhaps I should inform him of your engagement. Though I’m sure a pirate won’t see the Crown Prince as much competition.”

Part of you believes Aleksander is only joking, but his words have you reaching out to stop him.

“No. Don’t.”

He tilts his head aside in confusion, eyes scouring your face as he observes your concern. Glancing around, you ensure that no one is close enough to overhear you as you step closer to Aleksander and murmur,

“Sturmhond is Prince Nikolai.”

Aleksander’s frown deepens, and you step away from him.

“Is there anything else I should know?” He asks.

“A lot of his crew are Grisha.”

“Ravkan?”

“A mixture I think. But some of them might be.” At that, Aleksander seems to be pulled deep into his thoughts. “You can’t blame them for not wanting to serve the Crown.” You add softly.

“And yet, ironically they are still serving the Crown.”

“Illegitimate crown.” You add, turning around.

You have barely taken a step away from him, before Aleksander takes a hold of the back of your coat, bunching the fabric near your waist to pull you back against him. Dropping his head down he speaks lowly,

“You know who his father is. Don’t you?”

“I can’t remember his name. But if you gave me a list of the last few Fjerdan ambassadors then I think I’d be able to pick him out.”

“Well that could certainly come in handy.” He muses quietly. Turning around, you give him a small smile.

“You know me, full of handy little facts.”

Aleksander regards you for a moment, and you notice how close you are to him. His lips part, and your gaze falls down to watch his next words leave them.

“Do you like him?” He asks.

“Who?”

“Sturmhond.”

“I met him yesterday.” You remark. At the look on Aleksander’s face, you decide to give your answer more thought. “I don’t dislike him. I know we can trust him. That’s all I can say.”

»»---------------------►

There’s a creak of floorboards shifting, and the wind howls outside the small window in front of the makeshift desk that you and Aleksander share now that you’re at sea. It’s been nearly two weeks into your journey, and you’re approaching the Bone Road.

Aleksander shifts under the covers, and you glance over at him once again. Ever since the storm began, a tension had set into Aleksander’s shoulders, and tonight his sleep has been particularly restless.

You leave the candles burning on the desk, knowing that he doesn’t enjoy sleeping in total darkness, as you walk slowly over to the bed. There’s a small sound in the back of his throat, and he wakes with a start.

“Aleksander.” You whisper softly. He looks over at you with wide eyes as you settle down on top of the covers beside him. “Are you alright?”

He nods, but in that moment there’s a flash of lightning, and you see him grip the bedsheets tightly between his fingers.

“Is it the storm?” He nods again. “Can I join you?”

It seems strange, asking Aleksander if you can share the bed when the two of you have slept beside one another so many times before. But this is different.

Instead of answering, he shifts over in the bed, allowing room for you to slip under the covers beside him. A boom of thunder echoes overhead, and you can feel the reverberation of it in your chest.

Aleksander’s jaw is tense, and you can hear the strict control he has on his breathing. Your heart aches for him.

The room Sturmhond had offered Aleksander was well insulated, meaning that you were only wearing your underwear as well as one of Aleksander’s shirts. When you reach out towards him, your fingers smooth over his bare chest.

He relaxes a little underneath your touch, as you slide your palm up towards the nape of his neck. For a moment, you play with the short locks of hair that sit there, and Aleksander’s eyes flutter closed.

Once he seems calmer, you cup the back of his neck and provide a reassuring squeeze to the tense muscles there. In response, a little more of the tension leaves his spine. When another flash of lightning illuminates the room, Aleksander grasps onto your waist.

Tugging gently on his body, you encourage him to lie over you, and his arms instantly wrap around your waist. Thunder crackles and he tightens his hold on you. He buries his face into your chest, and you stroke through his hair as you whisper assurances to him.

“It’s alright Sasha.”

Once you realise what you’ve said, you go still, waiting for his response. He tilts his head up to look at you with a raised brow.

“Sasha?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have- I should have asked you first.” He breathes out a soft laugh, shaking his head.

“I don’t mind.”

“You don’t?” He shakes his head again, before he settles back down onto your chest.

“Baghra was the last person to call me Sasha.” He murmurs quietly. “She hasn’t done so in a very long time.”

“And you want me to?” You ask softly.

“I do.”

“Okay… Sasha.”

Fingers tangled in his hair, you can feel his smile against your skin and a warmth spreads through your chest.

»»---------------------►

Ivan comes to wake you and Aleksander early one morning. Heavy mist clings to the surface of the water, even trailing over the other end of the deck.

It’s cold, which you should be used to by now. You can’t remember the last time you stepped outside and felt warm. Rubbing your hands together, you try and encourage some warmth to remain in your body.

As another shudder runs through your body, you turn to Aleksander and grumble in a low voice.

“What was it with your grandfather and creating creatures that like the cold?”

The corner of his mouth quirks in amusement, and he steps closer, shielding you from the breeze as he remarks,

“Baghra must have been the exception to that rule.”

A small laugh falls from your lips, and some warmth returns to you at the sight of his smile.

Aside from a few murmurs of conversation, the crew are quiet. There’s an intangible spark of tension in the air. As if everyone, not just Mal, can sense that you’re close.

All of you stand still, waiting, as Mal gives a few final directions, which Sturmhond follows at his place in front of you and Aleksander on the upper deck.

Then someone cries out from up in the rigging.

“Two points of the starboard bow!”

A bright white, shimmering shape unfurls itself from within the mist. The early morning light casts a golden shine over pearlescent scales. Dark eyes stare resolutely at your ship, and a rush of fear floods through you.

You had warned Aleksander that the sea whip wouldn’t go down without a fight. The two of you had run over several ideas to capture the creature. Aleksander had decided to forgo longboats, instead you would use the size of your ship to your advantage.

Sturmhond’s crew seize their weapons. Guns and grappling hooks sparkle in the morning sunlight.

The first hook misses, splashing harmlessly into the water. The sea whip bucks it’s tail, rocking the waves. You stumble into Aleksander, and he grasps onto your arms as the deck tilts. Another hook flies over the edge of the ship, piercing into the sea whip’s hide.

It thrashes, trying to free itself, when another hook meets its mark. The deck tilts even further, and you cling tightly onto Aleksander.

“Alina.” You call out. She looks over at you, stumbling into Mal as she does. “Would your Cut be able to reach the sea whip?”

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head.

“I can’t use the Cut.”

It startles you, for a moment, when you realise that she hasn’t used the Cut yet. But she will.

“Yes, you can. Trust me, Alina.”

She backs away from you.

“No, I can’t.”

If Aleksander hadn’t been gripping on to you so tightly, you’re certain you would have fallen and cracked your head against the deck with the force of the next wave.

“It’s really not that hard.” You insist, remembering how she had summoned the Cut without even thinking, at the end of the first book.

“And you’d know all about that wouldn’t you?” She snaps.

You know what she sees of you. Arrogant otkazat’sya who thinks they understand how being a Grisha works. When in reality, it’s almost the opposite. You know, better than she does, what she’s capable of. Gritting your teeth, you remark in a low voice.

“Yes I would.”

Looking around frantically, you see the crew attempting to wrestle the sea whip into submission. It won’t go down quietly. After a violent jerk, one of the crewmen loses his footing and falls over the side.

“Man overboard!” Someone calls out.

Your mind is filled with memories of this chapter. Bloodstained water, screams and cries, the snap of bones breaking between the sea whips teeth.

“Our people are risking their lives. The least you could do is try.” You snap at Alina.

Turning away from her, you stagger towards Sturmhond who’s at the helm, gripping onto the wheel.

“Isn’t this fun?” He remarks, breathing out a laugh despite the shaking strain of his arms as he holds the ship level with the sea whip, fighting against the waves.

“I have a suggestion.” His sweat covered brow lifts in response, and you continue. “Tie the ropes to the mast, then turn hard to port. It’ll give us one more clean shot for a hook to bring it down.”

“And if it tears off our mast?”

“Then we’re screwed.”

His grin widens and he shakes his head. Then he calls out the orders to his crew, following your directions. You grip tightly onto the railing, as Sturmhond steers the ship away from the sea whip.

The creature cries out, a haunting melody that rings in your ears. You’re reminded of the stag. Of that chime that had called you to it, only this is amplified by a thousand. You see the last grappling hook fly out, burying itself into the sea whip’s side.

With a mournful cry, the sea whip slumps weakly.

“Nets!” Sturmhond cries out. “Ready the platform.”

A large board of wood is lowered down to the surface of the sea, and the crew use the hooks to steer the weakened sea whip onto the platform. A net is tossed down over the sea whip’s head, preventing it from thrashing any further.

The relief among you all is sudden, as people turn to one another in a mixture of disbelief, shock, and delight. There’s laughter, and people cling to one another. The man who had fallen overboard has a towel thrown around his shoulders as his crew mates laugh affectionately at him.

A smile blooms over your face, as you look at Aleksander.

You did it.

Your celebration is rather short lived.

“A ship, moi soverenyi.” Ivan says, gesturing to a distant shape on the horizon.

“Are they flying colours?” Aleksander asks, looking over at Sturmhond. The privateer peers through his telescope, searching over the smooth sea.

For a brief moment, you believe that it’s no one. Some passing fishermen.

“That’s Sokolov’s flag.” Sturmhond remarks, closing his telescope with a grin expression.

“Who?” You ask with a frown.

“Viktor Sokolov. He’s a Grisha pirate, claims loyalty to no country. That’s where his soldiers get their name from - nichevo’ya.”

At the sound of their name, a shiver runs through you. Nichevo’ya. That’s what the Darkling had called his shadow monsters.

“The nothings?” You translate, and Sturmhond nods.

Aleksander searches your expression intently. He knows you don’t know much Old Ravkan.

“You’ve heard of them?” He prompts.

“No.” You admit, swallowing hard as panic settles in. Of course there would be a group of vicious Grisha pirates that want to steal the sea whip from you. “We can’t outrun them in this ship.”

Aleksander nods, immediately joining in on your thinking. If you haven’t heard of these pirates, then you and Aleksander are on even ground when it comes to planning your next move.

“Even if we tried to flee, we would need to abandon the sea whip.” He reasons.

“We can’t let him take its power.”

“We can’t risk sending Alina down there. If they are Grisha, their ship will be on us in a matter of minutes.”

“What if we send David with her?” You suggest, and Aleksander nods slowly, understanding your plan.

“She can claim its power instantly. We will have to buy them quite some time though.”

Everyone around you seems a little stunned, either by your quick thinking or the way Aleksander’s thoughts flow with yours, you’re not sure. You look over at Sturmhond who nods.

“It’s daring.” He admits. “I like it.”

Then he turns to issue orders to his crew. They rush to their positions, and Aleksander begins to command your Grisha, readying them for a fight. Alina looks wary at the thought of being anywhere near the sea whip, and she doesn’t speak to you.

Just as you’re preparing for her and David to be lowered down to where the sea whip is bound, the deck tilts and you nearly fall into Aleksander.

“What’s happening?” You ask. His brows furrow darkly.

“Sokolov is a tidemaker. A powerful one.” Aleksander looks down at the water between your ship and the captured sea whip. “He’s using an undercurrent to keep us from reaching the sea whip.”

You swear in a low voice, running a hand over your hair with frustration. Smoke creeps across the water towards your ship, likely brought on by Sokolov’s squallers to impair your vision.

“Would your Cut be able to reach their ship from here?” You suggest. Aleksander shakes his head.

“A Cut that large is too dangerous to summon at this proximity, even for me.”

You’re running out of ideas at an alarming rate.

Then the soldiers climb up onto your deck.

Sturmhond’s crew respond instantly, fighting to keep control of their ship. Your own Grisha jump into the fray, and soon there’s only a small group of you on the upper deck.

“Zoya.” You call out to the nearby squaller. “If I jump, will you be able to carry me over to the other side of Sokolov’s current?”

Keeping her head low, she peers over the edge of the ship, eyeing the current swirling possessively around the sea whip. She nods.

“I think so.”

“Absolutely not.” Aleksander states firmly.

“We can’t let him get the sea whip.” You cry out in protest as the deck sways, and he shakes his head.

“Someone else.” He insists.

“Even through the smoke, they’ll see your keftas. I’m otkazat’sya, they won’t look twice at me.”

Aleksander holds your gaze for a long moment, and you know he’s running through every possible option in his mind. But it’s no use. This is your only option. You’re out of time.

“If you’re doing something, I suggest you decide now.” Zoya warns you. The current is pulling the sea whip further away from your ship, but your eyes stay on Aleksander. After another second of hesitation, he nods.

Shrugging off your jacket, you hold your knife ready in one hand and step back in order to gain a run up. Zoya holds her hands ready to summon enough wind to carry you.

You’re suddenly reminded of one of your nightmares, drowning in ice cold water before being eaten alive by the sea whip. Inhaling an unsteady breath, you give Zoya a nod.

Saints above, do not let me die today.

With that single prayer, you run towards the side of the ship, feet pushing up onto the railing as you leap out towards the open sea. Zoya’s breeze pushes your body through the air, and you land in still icy water.

The chill of the sea is freezing, and your very bones ache with the cold as you kick your feet and rise to the surface. Gasping for breath, you look around wildly, searching for the sea whip. Swimming in its direction, you realise how large it is as you get closer.

There isn’t time for you to climb onto the small platform, so you remain half submerged in the water as you reach out to the mythical sea whip.

“I’m so sorry about this.” You say, smoothing a hand over the slippery scales by the creature’s eye. It’s deep dark eyes stare intently at you, and a pang of guilt hits you.

Either you kill the sea whip yourself, ensuring that no one gets his power. Or you free him, and pray that you all survive unscathed.

Gritting your teeth, you make a decision.

As quickly as you can, you begin to saw at the ropes binding the sea whip down to the platform. The net comes away easily but the ropes require a little more work. They had been reinforced by fabrikators, but luckily the fibres wear away when you angle your steel in the right direction.

Then you choke on a gasp, and almost drop your knife as your vision swims. Warm blood drips from your nose, and you cough weakly as you try to stay conscious.

One of Sokolov’s heartrenders must be constricting your heart. Terror fills you. Then the pain eases slightly, and you can feel your pulse thrumming a little stronger than before. A glance back at your ship confirms your suspicions, Ivan is keeping your heart going.

He’s one of the strongest corporalki that you know, but the distance will soon be too much for him to reach you. Fighting down the panic, and the pain, you reach for the final rope.

Tears fill your vision, and you cry out as you give one resolute swipe at the weakened rope. It snaps. The sea whip bursts free, and you go under the waves.

The motion of the sea whip’s tail shifts the water around you, pushing you into Sokolov’s undercurrent. Thrashing violently, you struggle against the water, and your own tiring body.

Then you’re hauled up to the surface, your lungs burning as you draw in shuddering breaths, gathering your strength to fight off whoever had grabbed you.

“You’re alright.” A familiar voice assures you, holding you tight. “It’s me.”

“Aleksander!” You gasp, gripping firmly onto his soaked shirt. He must have abandoned his kefta before he had jump in.

“I have you.” He says, his voice rough with exertion as he keeps you both above water.

With Aleksander doing the majority of the work, you swim back over to your ship, and the crew help to lift the two of you back onto the deck.

Your clothes are soaked through, and Aleksander still has one hand fisted into your shirt as you both collapse onto the wooden planks of the deck. You slump onto your back, every part of you aching and cold, as you try to catch your breath.

“You are never to do anything like that ever again.” Aleksander states firmly, but there’s a wrecked quality to his voice that tugs at your heartstrings.

“I don’t plan on it.” Pulling yourself up weakly into a sitting position, you drop your forehead against his shoulder and murmur a quiet, “I’m sorry, Sasha.”

He holds onto the back of your neck with one hand, and lifts his head up to survey your ranks.

“Any casualties?”

“A few.” Sturmhond says. “Your healers are seeing to them now, there shouldn’t be anything serious.” Aleksander stands, and he extends a hand to help you up. “Sokolov’s soldiers retreated as soon as the sea whip was freed.”

Aleksander nods, and you feel too weak to celebrate your victory.

There’s a red blur at the corner of your vision, and you turn towards it, extending a hand to grasp at the sleeve of a kefta.

“Thank you, Ivan.” You say in a grateful whisper.

His eyes scour over you, soaked to the skin, blood under your nose, and eyes heavy with the exhaustion of having your heart meddled with by two warring heartrenders. He nods in response, his eyes softening minutely.

When you turn back to face him, Aleksander has his kefta back on, and aside from his wet hair, he barely looks like he had just taken a swim along the Bone Road with the sea whip. Quite unlike you.

He wraps his cloak around your body, rubbing at your arms as he presses his chest against your back. Blinking in confusion, you realise a warm breeze is drying your clothes. Zoya gives you a small nod, and you smile gratefully at her.

There’s a rushing sound of water churning violently, and you stare open mouthed as the sea whip rises above the sea, towering over Sokolov’s ship. As it’s body tilts forward, you realise what it’s about to do.

“Everybody get down!” You cry out, at the same time Sturmhond yells,

“Hit the deck!”

Aleksander grabs you, and you cling to the front of his kefta as he ducks the two of you down beside the edge of the ship. His grip is hard, holding your body close to his with one arm, whilst the other grasps onto a rope attached to the ship.

When the sea whip hits the ocean, curling the length of its body around Sokolov’s ship, you hear the roar of the resulting waves. Squeezing your eyes shut, water sprays over your head as the sea whip crushes the ship in its coils. The deck of your ship tilts, and Aleksander tightens his hold on you fiercely.

For a long moment you’re subjected to clinging desperately onto Aleksander as the deck rocks back and forth violently. The sound of wood breaking and shattering echoes through the thunder of the waves.

Then silence.

Waves sway at a normal rate, and the sea is devoid of any sign of what had just occurred. A pirate battle featuring a mythical sea dragon.

The crew and your Grisha slowly crawl out of the nooks they had safeguarded themselves into. Whilst you might all be soaked, and you’re still trembling in Aleksander’s arms, everyone seems unharmed.

Then the rushing sound returns and the sea whip rises from the waterline.

Sturmhond yells out commands, and his people scramble to retrieve their weapons.

“Wait!” You cry out, legs wobbling as you rush down the stairs and hurry over the deck to stand in front of the sea whip. Aleksander follows you closely.

“Hold your fire.” He orders, and despite the fact that they are mostly Sturmhond’s crew, they lower their guns and grappling hooks.

The sea whip doesn’t tower over your ship like he had done to Sokolov’s ship, instead he lowers his head down so that his chin rests on the edge of the deck in front of you.

Resting your forehead against the chilly skin of the sea whip’s nose, you flatten your palm against the front of his face.

“Thank you.” You say softly.

There’s quiet acceptance in his eyes, the same expression that you had seen from the stag. The amplifiers give out their power on their own terms. Giving him a nod of understanding, you turn back to Aleksander.

“Where’s Alina?”

She heads down the stairs, eyeing the sea whip cautiously, and Sturmhond hands her a knife as she nears you.

Stepping away, you allow her to approach the sea whip. A wave of dizziness seizes you, and you inhale slowly, turning away as Alina takes his life. Blood trickles over the deck, and your stomach twists.

Walking towards Aleksander, you can see the concern on his face. It’s likely you don’t look very well. Black spots fill your vision, and sound becomes distorted as you stumble forward. Fortunately, you manage to make it into his outstretched arms before you lose consciousness.

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse

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#in another life au #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling #the darkling x reader #the darkling au #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone #in another life chapters

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