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#Makes me miss doing Paradox. Maybe again one day
garykingz · 9 months
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Drawing out one of my fave scenes in Mockingjay rn and I forgot how much I genuinely luv doing comics/storyboards
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concussed-to-pieces · 8 months
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Wolves At The Door; Part Three
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Fandom: Resident Evil [Village]
Pairing: Eventual Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader
Rating: Holy shit M.
Summary: "No." You whispered, your hold on the knife’s hilt tightening. "No, I-I don't want you to come any nearer."
A/N: FIGHT SCENE FIGHT SCENE! I'd like to thank you all for reading thus far, you're The Best <3 I will be taking a small break after this, due to a vacation. I'll see you all on the 11th! Enjoy!
Tag List: @spoopyredacted @cookiethewriter @amneris21 @topgirl17 @vodkafolie @stargazerofgoldenwords @a-smol-witch @baby-lisuga @clockworkmidnight @calwitch @silver-quinn01 @velvet-paradox @hijackser @mrs-wolfwood @nonstop-haikyuu @mic-sunderland @somethingthatsaysbubbles @fullofmoonsandstars @thirstworldproblemss @karlskitten @imthegreenfairy86 @nitrogennightmare @chunnies
Prelude
Part One
Part Two
[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains mentions of blood, canon-typical violence, gratuitous violence and graphic depictions of mental and physical duress. Stay safe!]
"You will regret this." The Duke warned him, his smile vanishing at Heisenberg's demand.
"I don't care," Karl insisted, his fingers still twisted into the larger man's shirt collar. "I can't keep going on like this, not without knowing if I'm-" broken a danger bad person "--if I'm someone who would…do something I shouldn't."
The merchant, for whatever reason, insisted on continuing, "This will not endear you to them, my Lord."
"I don't know why the hell you think I'm doing this for them!" Heisenberg snapped angrily. "I'm tired of not fucking knowing what I'm–I just feel like I'm always waiting, anticipating something awful. I've had enough."
A large finger landed between his brows, the Duke bearing an uncharacteristically serious expression. "I am sorry for this, Lord Heisenberg."
Darkness overcame Karl then, as well as a chill like the sun had been suddenly switched off.
"Mr. Duke! It's good to see you. I wasn't sure if you were alright, it's been so long since you've come by!" You exclaimed, still wiping your hands dry with an old towel as you made your way to the fenceline. "You'll have to fill me in."
The Duke, for his part, looked unchanged. A bit more sweaty perhaps, but that could be chalked up to the rigors of just existing in such a unique body. You saw his eyes dart to your houseguest and you got the sudden impression that you may have interrupted something. The large man staunchly denied this when you asked though, his laugh just as jovial as always. Maybe you had misinterpreted the situation?
If looks could kill, however, it seemed the Duke would be quite done for. Karl was glaring holes through the merchant, striking green eyes narrowed to angry slits. That look alone could make anyone nervous!
"I noticed my talismans have gone missing, my dear. Has something happened?" The Duke's inquiry was smooth, almost bland. 
"They just started crumbling one day. I guess the elements finally got to them?" 
The Duke's expression shifted strangely and once again his eyes darted to Heisenberg. But all he said was, "how curious," then started rummaging in the drawers that framed his corpulent form. 
"I'm sorry, I don't have-"
"I told you," the Duke interrupted, his smile a bit sharper, "it's all part of our first-class customer service!" He gestured vaguely with one large hand, placing the small bundles of herbs and flowers down on his thigh. "If nothing else, take these as my thanks for nursing the Lord back to health. He certainly seems a changed man from when we last met." You heard Karl growl, muttering something under his breath that made the Duke chuckle coldly. "Now now, let's not say things we don't mean. I'm being sincere! I am glad you and the Lord Heisenberg are on such good terms. Why, he's almost tame."
There had been a great shattering, a terrible rending in his mind the likes of which he had never experienced before. The stress and mania that had driven him doggedly onward collapsed in upon itself after Ethan's final assault, as though the strain of both his transformation and the fight was too much for his body and mind to handle. Karl could just barely recall feeling himself fraying, his soul being torn apart at the seams like he was an ugly garment in the hands of the world's most negligent tailor.
Miranda would love that. Let that bitch pick out every stitch so she could make me into something useful, something controllable.
Maybe it was that bitterness that kept him breathing. Bitter spite and hatred, a parasitic leech just as much as the creature that throbbed uneasily in his gut. Cadou, finally a name for the feeling, the tension, the parasite that clung to his broken body and demanded him to rise, demanded him to fight and kill anew to keep it alive. Karl was exactly what he had feared and suspected all along: a freak.
While the Duke sat there complacent, chuckling, Heisenberg could only seethe internally. The obese merchant finally leaned forward, his smile distinctly oily. "I'd advise the two of you to turn in early for the evening. A storm is coming."
"Thanks for the tip." Heisenberg said through gritted teeth.
"Do you have anything new to show me?" The excitement in your voice threw Karl off a bit, as did the Duke's smirking reply of, "Naturally, my dear!"
Apparently it had been a busy few months for the merchant, because he immediately started pulling out (allegedly) new trinkets to show you. Each item he proudly displayed, however, set Heisenberg more and more on edge. Crystalline objects, fragile and frail, covered in sharp edges and scenting the air lightly with decay. Something about them had that wrongness, that Uncanny Valley sheen, as well as a hideous familiarity. 
Finally Karl said faintly, "I'm going to head back in." His head was swimming, mind struggling to sort through lifetimes of memories and it felt like his entire body was throbbing with his pulse. "You two have fun catching up."
"But my Lord-" the Duke protested, extending the protective talismans to Karl with a guileless expression. "-I had hoped you would hang these along the fenceline for me. I would do it myself, of course, but it's been so long since I've had a customer to show my wares." His eyes twinkled with the silent joke; he knew damn well that touching those things was bad news for Karl. Go on, big man, the Duke's smug gaze seemed to say, go on and reveal yourself.
Karl's glare reached a nuclear temperature, his mood rapidly swinging from discomfort to infuriation at being toyed with. This colossal fuck knew exactly what he was capable of! As usual, the Duke's audacity was exclusively outweighed by his mass.
But you were smiling, you looked so excited to see what else the Duke would show you.
Damn it all to hell.
Karl dug around in the pocket of his jacket, pulling out his gloves and gracelessly yanking them on before holding out a hand to take the charms. 
The Duke's smile never wavered once.
"It is odd, seeing the change in him." The Duke commented, turning a human torso that may have been carved from quartz this way and that to show you how the light caught it. "You certainly did more than your share of work, my dear."
"I don't understand." You replied, a little confused. "It hasn't been too hard. Only issue was keeping bread in the house."
"Can we claim his essence restored by mere gluten?" The Duke fixed you with a look that made you uncomfortable, his normally good-natured expression gone serious. "I doubt that, but I am open to breakthroughs in science."
"Do you mean I helped raise his spirits or something?" When the obese man shook his head, you shrugged. "I haven't really done much except put that gunk that you gave me onto his wounds and endured his company. If anything he's been helping me out! Got to get a few things done that I couldn't manage myself." 
"Very curious," the Duke mused, his attention seeming to have moved on to the odd combination of gears and crystals that he was currently showing you. It looked almost like a half-metal heart encased in white crystal and you marveled at the craftsmanship of it. "Lord Heisenberg has allowed himself to be domesticated. The Lady Dimitrescu would have a fit if she were still around."
His words didn't register until a moment later, making your brow furrow. Unfortunately the large merchant didn't appear to be in an expansive mood, whatever further queries you had being easily deflected or outright ignored.
Miranda. 
Karl tried to focus on something aside from the fact that his entire left hand was going numb. 
The constant fury he felt at that self-styled mother's attempted manipulation of him would do, so he began to reminisce. Though his mind was not entirely whole, Heisenberg could still remember his disdain for the haughty woman. She had always looked at him with such blatant calculation in her eyes; he had to commend her for the consistency of that gaze. Karl wondered sometimes if she practiced it in front of the mirror. How his ‘siblings’ had never seen her manipulation…
"Sore loser," his own voice echoed back to him through his memories and he scoffed, yanking the knot tight on the twine. Another charm secure. The little talismans were made of monkshood and nondescript twigs of some evergreen plant, all braided together with a few stalks of what seemed to be wheat and then fashioned into a tidy wreath. The numbness in his hand vanished once he released the charm, now replaced by an unpleasant burning. He could see spidery black tendrils making their way up his arm from beneath the glove, following the path of his veins to spread that burning sensation. Aside from that, though, Karl felt nothing. Was his fury truly slow to come, or did he just not care anymore? 
He slowed to a halt, resting his weight on the fence as he stared down at it. He almost wanted to will himself to be upset, get worked up, something for the sake of familiarity. This calm…acceptance, it didn't seem like him. The Duke had said Miranda was 'taken care of'. No doubt Ethan had fistfought the feathery bitch himself.
Dimitrescu, then, Karl decided, she could always piss me off, that colossal cunt. The anger was so faint it was barely annoyance. The weird little doll? Indifference. Moreau. Pity. 
Pity?! 
Was his throat closing up?! He was either flashing over or having some sort of allergic reaction to the talismans, he reasoned desperately. That was the only explanation for his strange response. Heisenberg pulled away from the fence, taking a few healthy steps backwards. He abruptly felt the hairs raise on the back of his neck and the Lord reached out to grab the maul, realizing at that moment that he had left it by the cart. Come on!
A body crashed into his back and Karl almost toppled, only just managing to brace himself on a fencepost. Sharp teeth grazed his arm, the combined scent of wet dog and iron nearly strong enough to make Heisenberg retch. Without a second thought Karl yanked the charm off the post and jammed his entire fist into the thing's mouth, hearing it start to choke and gag right next to his ear. 
The maul arrived, flying through the air like the weapon of some old Norse god. Karl seized it with his free hand, swinging it around to pulverize the…lycan, lycan, shit, he had forgotten. Its skull caved beneath the maul's blunted edge and Heisenberg quickly shoved the body to the side as it twitched its last.
There were more of them. A lot more of them, a pack of mangled humanoids spilling out from beneath the trees to yowl and bay at him. The body at his feet began to crystallize, the familiar scent of death wafting up to greet him like an old friend. Memories started to bleed in at the sides of his vision: dark, wispy vignettes of the man he was, the monster he really was.
I think bare minimum I've done some real bad things. 
He had been so desperate for reassurance without even knowing why, groping unlit through the halls of his memories as a stranger. It had been better for a while, what was shoved into the back of his mind to let him play fucking pretend at being human, at this new life with you.
Just like Miranda with her fake little family.
Heisenberg drew himself up to his full height, narrowing his eyes and roaring "shut your fucking holes!", immensely gratified when the cacophony immediately quieted. 
Unfortunately, the uneasy silence was then broken by a scream. A scream of his name. And the lycans, obviously sensing Karl's momentary distraction, peeled away to head for the source of the noise.
"Karl!" You cried, the terrible din you had heard seconds before still ringing in your ears.
"Oh dear," the Duke remarked blithely, "I may have been too late." He shrugged after a moment, passing you another charm. "Well, I hurried as best as I could." The massive merchant then clicked his tongue once and the seemingly too-small horse began to pull the cart down the road once more. "Good luck, my dear. Remember what I said about the weather!" He called with a wave.
"You've gotta' be kidding me!" You yelled after him incredulously, the talisman clutched tightly in your grasp. All you heard in reply was faint chuckling. You gritted your teeth, turning on your heel. "Karl!" You shouted again, starting across the yard. You could hear muffled yowling coming from behind the cabin, out past the back fenceline, so with your heart in your throat you carried onward. You hoped and prayed it was just a bobcat that Karl had spooked, you're overreacting, everything is fine. You did make a brief pit stop to pick up your kindling knife from the basket on the porch, staunchly refusing to think about what you could possibly need it for. 
Upon turning the corner of the house, however, you came face to face with some…thing, some awful thing with sharp teeth and a hunched humanoid body. You froze and so did it, before it bared its filthy, blackened maw and snarled at you. 
Oh, it's going to kill me. The thought was so certain it almost surprised you. Really, what else could happen? Fuck, it's going to kill me. You backed away, holding the knife in front of you in a desperate bid to keep the creature at bay. For some reason it actually seemed to be working, the weird wolf-man snapping its teeth at the air in evident frustration. Well, it was either that or the Duke's charm that you had slipped around your wrist, but you weren't about to start questioning your luck.
A projectile whipped past your head from behind you, the mass of it disturbing the air enough to emit a faint whistle. It was the maul, its dull blade slamming into the face of the lycan and bending it nearly in half before it collapsed like a deflating balloon. 
"You stay the hell away from them, you mangy rat!" Karl spat, his gaze full of fury as he rounded the house coming from the other direction. It may not have been aimed at you, but his rage was still absolutely terrifying to witness. Your knees began to tremble, threatening to dump you onto the ground. Heisenberg suddenly seemed larger than life and extremely dangerous, voice booming and eyes ablaze with a malice you had never seen. The man tore the maul free with a sickening crunch, shaking some of the gore off. "You alright?"
You realized he was addressing you, still coming closer at that too-fast pace and you floundered to nod, opening your mouth to say something, yes I'm fine and don't come near me you're scaring me and what's going on. No words came out, though. When had he gotten so big? It was as though someone else had taken over his body, someone self-assured, someone…
Was this how he had been before?
Karl stopped dead two feet away, the man huffing out an irritated breath. "Oh, you've got one of those charms." He slung the maul over one shoulder, holding out a gloved hand. "Here, give it so I can close the loop on this fence." There were holes torn in the glove, ragged punctures. Bite marks.
"No." You whispered, your hold on the knife’s hilt tightening. "No, I-I don't want you to come any nearer." What did the Duke do to him? 
Karl's brow furrowed, but he soldered on, reasoning, "There's more of the freaks out there, sugar. We don't have the whole fence covered, I need that last charm." 
"Please, don't…look, I don't want to hurt you and you're scaring me right now." You got the feeling the blade you had was about as threatening as a butter knife to the large man, but you held firm. 
Cornered dogs bite. He had called you sugar, his voice low and urgent. Surely it was still him in there if he was using the silly pet name he had decided upon for you. This was all so confusing.
"The lycans don't give a shit about whether you're scared, sugar! They aren't gonna' wait around for us to sort things out, they're coming!" Heisenberg snapped roughly, glancing back over his shoulder. "Fuck's sake! I'm not at full bore and if something gets you because I'm out of it, I'd-" He hesitated, then huffed through gritted teeth instead of finishing the sentence. "Alright, fine, I'm not coming any closer, we'll just do it together then. Stay by me. Devil you know, right?" He instructed, that fierce gaze softening a bit. "Nothing will get you while I'm here."
What if you're the thing I'm worried about? you wondered privately. 
You were looking at him like he was a monster. You were looking at him like he was a horrible, terrible monster, that trashy Bowie knife you used to shave kindling chips clutched in your trembling hands, leveled at his gut. You're scaring me right now.
And Karl couldn't even deny it because holy shit he was, he had been, he might still be. Oh God, no wonder the Duke told him it was an awful idea. He wanted to throw up, but that may have been due to the closeness of the talisman. Anti-mold measures or just another silver bullet in the magazine?
At least now he knew, as crushing as that particular burden of knowledge was. At least he knew. It was oddly freeing to be that self-fulfilling prophecy for once. 
You ended up hovering nervously at his elbow, the proximity of the charm a constant, nagging throb at the apex of his spine. But he could keep track of you that way. 
"The lycans are wary." Karl informed you, not really sure why he did so. "They know who I am but they're not particularly good listeners." 
"Something you have in common." You retorted.
Karl shrugged, feeling his glove slide down his mangled fingers before he tugged it back into place. "I'd like to think I've improved." He glared at the forms he could see surging along the edges of the treeline, brandishing the maul in silent threat. Come on, you rabid little shits.
Not a single one left the safety of the woods, however they did keep up their noise. Howling and shrieking, the pack followed the two of you closely. They're waiting for us to place the last charm, Heisenberg realized, his brow furrowing. They'll strike then before we can get back inside the fenceline. 
"I need you to be ready to run once you tack down that last talisman." He muttered out the side of his mouth, relieved when you nodded. "Don't worry about me."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
His laugh was coarse and joyless. He had been a naive idiot to think he even had a chance at any sort of quiet life, but he was more irritated with himself over being so affected by the disappointment. Now was not the time to wish to turn back the clock.
You broke away from him by running ahead, your attention clearly fixed on the section of fencing that lacked an oh-so-familiar charm. Karl watched you slide the talisman off your wrist, and at the same time he could see the pack of lycans appear to muster themselves for a full-scale assault. 
Heisenberg's eyes narrowed and the man bolted forward, sending the maul ahead of him as he went. "It needs to go on the outside of the fence! I'll cover you!" 
You yanked open the gate with single-minded intent, only to see the maul go sailing into the teeming swarm of bodies in front of you, Karl close behind announcing that he would 'cover you'. As you turned to watch him go, a massive lycan broke away from the edge of the pack and headed straight for you, fingers clawing at the dirt for traction.
You fumbled to attach the charm, hanging it on the rusted nail still in the fence post and then smashing the top of the nail with the butt of your knife to fold it over onto itself. Mission accomplished, you rushed to get back inside the safety of the fenceline, but it was too late. A paw-like hand caught your ankle, tripping you up and causing you to strike your head hard on the gate.
The world swam in front of your eyes, a combination of reflex tears and being dragged along the ground by your leg at a dizzying pace. You began to struggle, kicking desperately at the face of the creature in an effort to free yourself from its clutches. The lycan dropped your leg, choosing instead to bat aside the kicks you aimed at it and lunge for your face with a garbled howl.
You didn't even have the time to think and so you slammed your eyes shut, bracing the knife you still held against your body in an effort to at least wound the lycan. 
But it didn't come. The weight of the beast on your chest just…vanished, its roar choking off abruptly.
When you dared to open your eyes again, you were greeted by the sight of Karl holding up the lycan by its throat, the man clearly crushing its windpipe. Judging by the way it was thrashing, it didn't have much longer. Heisenberg didn't say a single word, the man simply grunting with effort as he gave the beast a final shake to cleanly snap its neck. He then threw the body down, broadening his stance and squaring his shoulders with a furious grin on his face.
"Fuck off!" He roared at the remaining pack, now significantly thinned and yelping. "You stay the hell away from here, or I'll wipe out every last one of you!" The maul flew through the air and he caught it, swinging it one-handed. It was dripping with some kind of black fluid. "You won't cross that fenceline!"
After a few moments of what seemed to be a snarling back-and-forth with Heisenberg and one another, the surviving creatures sulkily limped back into the woods in defeat. They left nothing behind but crystallized remains of their kin and, as rain slowly started to fall, even those began to dissolve into the soil. 
Karl closed the gate, the man slowly latching it with the worn wire twisted around the post.
You were still on the ground, the knife pressed to your chest as you shivered and tried to catch your breath. You couldn't recall another day in your life that you had been so certain about your own death. Somehow all you'd ended up with was a few scrapes on your shin and a tender spot on your head from the gate.
Heisenberg swayed, propping himself up on the fence with one elbow. The maul dropped from his grasp as he panted for air, the man's scarred complexion gone so pale it was nearly green. He tried to say something, but ended up dry heaving instead. After taking a few staggering steps back from the fence, he unceremoniously collapsed onto his side.
You only hesitated momentarily before you scrambled forward, your caution thrown to the wind. It was as if watching him fight had somehow removed whatever threat you had felt before, the notion wholly gone from your mind. It was oxymoronic, but firmly embedded that the two of you were on the same side. He saved you.
The man gazed dully upwards at you or someplace past your shoulder, his breathing coming in sharp, hitchy bursts. "Hurt-" he managed to wheeze, shaking the glove off of his hand to display blackened flesh radiating from a tearing bite wound on the palm. He then gave a thumbs up with the mangled appendage, choking out, "--be okay." 
You noticed blood darkening a section of his trousers by his hip and you jerked his tattered coat back, revealing several more wounds. At least two of the lycans had ripped into the back of his thigh, like they were trying to hamstring him. The purpling, bruised bites ran down his leg and there was even a large chunk missing from the top of his boot. You hissed in dismay at the whole scene, feeling nauseous and terrified.
"We need to get you out of the rain," you said finally, your stomach in knots. Karl waved you off while pffting out a breath but you essentially ignored him, pulling his good hand to haul his arm up over your shoulders. "C'mon, use whatever's left of your legs." 
The man coughed out a laugh at that, then obliged you to the best of his ability. It was a struggle, but the two of you managed to get him upright. All there was left was the slow trek back to the cabin, and Jesus was it slow. Karl could barely put one foot in front of the other, the man dragging his wounded leg and the maul behind him as he leaned on you, nevermind your own legs still shaking from adrenaline.
"Why did you do that?" You asked finally, blinking the rain out of your eyes. 
"Whuh."
"You know what." The only reply you got was silence, followed by a clumsy little pat on the cheek. You supposed you would have to ask later.
The fresh talismans gave Karl the sensation of being in the eye of a storm. A maelstrom of energy swirled around the fenceline in a disorienting spiral, but it couldn't touch him in here. The drunken stumbling was more due to the injuries he had sustained, his steps unsteady and head hanging. This weakness was incredible, it was so similar to how he had been right after he had lost to Ethan. Laying there in the dirt with the rain pouring down on him, uncertain of what had just happened, where he was, every shattered breath in his body seeming like it could be his last.
"Come, my Lord. You seem to have fallen ill." 
You had said that the Duke was the one who brought him to you for aid. He barely remembered bits and pieces of the ride, only roused to consciousness from pain when he was jostled. 
His forehead knocked into yours and he slurred out an apology, realizing you needed him to walk up the porch steps. And walk up them he did, his leg already feeling a little less terrible. Parasite perks, the alliteration tickling him far more than it ought to have. He actually managed to hobble through the doorway unassisted, performing an odd skipping hop to do so and dropping the maul beside the doorframe. 
Once inside you collapsed on the couch, your whole body trembling. "Thought I was gonna' die." You finally said. Heisenberg continued to hover awkwardly on one leg, shoring himself up by placing a hand onto one of the ceiling crossbeams as you seemed to gather your thoughts. "I mean I thought that was it, game over. Holy shit, that was terrifying." You looked up at him, radiating incredulity as you asked, "how the hell did you just handle them?"
Karl shrugged, a bad habit he felt he could attribute to you. "It's all I've known for most of my life." It was a garbage explanation for all its truth and he knew that, but you weren't exactly in a fantastic headspace at the moment. Neither was he for that matter, he was still weak and a little queasy. Better to let sleeping dogs lie, let you calm down and regain some peace of mind. Lycans were normal to him, sure, but you'd only seen them in half light and hadn't even seemed to believe they actually existed until today. 
You put your face in your hands, exhaling deeply. You then moved to rise but Karl halted you with a hand on your shoulder, and he was silently dismayed at the fact that he could still feel you shaking.
"Stay put." He tried to gentle his tone, make it a little less gruff. "That was a lot. Just rest. You want some water?"
You hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah." You caught his hand before he could turn away, seeming confused. "How are you even walking? Your leg was-" "Something in me is real invested in keeping my body in one piece." Karl patted your hand, attempting to smile and failing miserably. "Lemme' get you that drink."
Part Four
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14dyh · 3 months
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17 from the new list? hange getting rejected
Get Over Her | H.Z.
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Pairing: Hange Zoë x gn!reader Summary: You helped Hange get over their rejection. Word count: 1.0k A/N: sorry anon i can't write about y/n themself rejecting hange so this happened :"")
It would have been impossible for you to miss it when Hange acts strangely– even for themselves. Being roommates for over a year, you've known how they take their coffee differently in the morning, never miss checking on Science Daily to tell you something fascinating, or how their footsteps sound when they're trying not to wake you up at night. 
You know Hange. 
Their pain wouldn't pass over your eyes and the way they ruminate in an excruciating manner that you're starting to feel the headache for them. It began with the rejection that happened weeks ago. Hange just came home, throwing over the flowers they failed to give in an empty bin and refused to say anything other than they got rejected, that's all, just kinda unfortunate this time, right? You knew better and recognized right away how the rejection slowly deteriorates them from the inside, even if they're trying to laugh it off by dousing those flowers with an organic-based chemical that speeds up the composting process (as Hange happily announced to you). At some point, you had to try and rip them away from that cruel cycle of never admitting their pain. Sometimes you would spend hours in the arcade, pull them along the quiet garden on the riverside to watch ducks, or watch plays and movies until you both pass out on the couch. From those moments, you managed to glimpse the sparkle in their eyes again which they lost a day later after seeing her. 
You want to shake Hange into reality and yell at them to get over her. But how can you manage to do such a thing when she looks like everything Hange had hoped for? 
She would pass by the hallway and everyone's attention would be stirred. Her grace and fragrance, or how she managed to stand out like a fascinating flower among a field of others. She was what Hange hoped to be the perfect opposite of their ideal paradox. But now they couldn't stand or act like themself whenever in the same room as her or not until they decided to space out and let their ideas absorb them. There were times that they would remain silent in school, but you knew that the sound of their thoughts was getting louder and louder to bear.
You were both in your dorm, studying in the dead of the night when they asked, "Hey Y/N? Do I sound annoying?" And it sounded more like a question out of curiosity than self-deprecation. 
"Well, not really..." you responded. 
"Not really? What does that mean?"
"I mean, why would you ask me? If ever you're annoying, I'll be the first one to get used to it so don't think I would mind that anymore,” you explained, sitting up from your bed as you tried to meet their eyes. Hange’s gaze remained far away. 
"So maybe I do sound annoying..." they pondered loudly before turning to you and continuing. "Was it my voice?"
Hange continued on and on, asking and piecing together information on that topic.
And you were getting tired and hurt from the inside as they thought that maybe their voice was annoying, or their humor, or their hobbies. You nudged their swivel chair with your foot. 
"Hey, stop that now. Why don't we go out? Maybe a midnight stroll or a snack. Anything to stop you from that nonsense."
You pulled them out of those thoughts again, taking the streets at midnight to walk around and get something to eat. To talk about anything else other than their rejection because you know it would make them break. The night faded into a deep dark blue and it was 2 AM. You forgot how you both ended up on the couch, drinking away your thoughts as Hange laid their head on your shoulder. They rambled on about funny anecdotes and fascinating theories that would concern anyone, and then they quieted for a moment before saying, "You know... I grew the flowers I wanted to give to her."
Hange only smiled before finally turning to you, "Heh, I like the sound of that."
They said in a quiet voice as though raising it any higher would cause them to break down. 
Then they chuckled before saying, "Those flowers were a cross-hybrid. And when I showed her, she said it looked like a weird sack of balls and I said noooo, it wasn't quite like that. It's supposed to symbolize how the sun dips on the fabric of space..."
They went on drunkenly, arms around you now as they leaned closer as if any attempt they would make to move away would result in great discomfort.
"And I thought it was a cute metaphor to relate her to the sun but... she only laughed at me. Not in a way you would laugh in amusement with my ideas. Somehow, it sounded mocking."
And that hurt, Hange's voice broke, prompting the sobs that came after. 
You held them close, a portion of your heart aching as someone made them feel ashamed of all the things you love about them. What angered you the most was that the girl never rejected them outright, maybe to keep Hange in a way to use them or entertain herself. You don't deserve any of that, your mind protested. You thought of Hange as everything wonderful that happened in this world, as all the poetry and love in your heart screamed. 
"I made a mistake... And I'm correcting that..." they muttered on your shoulder, on the verge of falling asleep. They held you tighter, their tears dripping down your shirt before they relaxed on your body. For a moment, you tried to make sense of their words, maybe they regretted falling for that girl after all and realized how much they didn’t deserve such treatment. 
As they drifted to slumber, still clung to you, your eyes found the small plant growing on Hange’s table that reminded you of the nebula you always talk about with them.
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persephoneflouwers · 1 year
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Lucky Again
I spent the last few days thinking about this song quite a lot. I haven’t paid much attention to it at first, probably the excitement felt a bit mitigated by the fact we knew the song already, but I’ve been binge listening to the album for a month now and every week it’s a new week obsessing with a different song, so now it’s Lucky Again turn. I haven’t read many analysis or opinions lately, because I’ve been pretty busy, so I’m sorry if this is something someone already wrote about or if it doesn’t really make sense. It does make sense in my head tho, so I’ll hope I can articulate my thoughts well enough to convey the message lol.
I think Lucky Again is a very comforting song, more like self-comforting. It is a love song, but to himself. And since when I started reading at it like this… Lucky Again has been hurting more than any other song in the album. Yeah, I said that about All this time too but yall know what I mean lol. They are very very very personal songs. Louis is so good at writing about himself and being so open to fucking stub your heart with a single word, but sometimes it goes a bit unheard. Not here tho, not here.
Anyway. Let’s start!
You give and give until it's gone away, Just tell yourself you've got another day
Starting with a bang. I usually read deeper than necessary but the incipit feels a bit tough, doesn’t it? He’s saying life can get consuming. It consumes you, your time, your energies, sometimes your feelings. You give and give until everything is gone and you go though your day by inertia, one day after the other.
You've lived that life, you just don't see it yet
Truth been spoken. When you are in your darkest place, it’s hard to appreciate what you have and usually you miss it when it’s gone (oh wait! Maybe you don't know what's lost 'til you find it 🎶)
I see how hard you've worked to be yourself
When I tell you I sobbed the first time this line clicked in my brain. Just imagine Louis saying this to himself… argh! I don’t know how to react. It’s like absolutely amazing he appreciates and values how much he has grown as a person and how many steps forward he has taken and how rough some times were. It’s amazing to see him acknowledging he came out of his own dark places or at least he has tried. I was wondering what Louis meant when he said in some interviews he doesn’t like when people pity him, and I see why. There’s nothing to pity here, it’s just congratulations for how strong and tough he is. Hard work always always pays off.
If you believe that guy is Superman, They're selling tickets at the cinema
The interpretations of this line are potentially endless, but it always hit me for how real it is. It spoke to me like the best way to say ‘it’s bullshit, but you do you’. It’s a recurrent concept in FITF, the disillusionment and the concreteness of reality. He’s not a dreamer in this album, always very optimistic, positive, mature but never not pragmatic. He sounds jealous at some point, like one of those things you say to your partner when they make a comment about somebody else, right? But it’s the way he sets this in a specific direction, he sets the tone with two words: superMAN and cinema. So it feels to me like he is talking about a famous person who usually gets idolised, and by extent fame, popularity in general. I am not a teacher, but I would say this is a rhetoric figure called Synecdoche and I absolutely adore it! So does Louis, by the way. The choice of words is interesting and telling. He’s using believe as something a bit negative here. That’s ironic for an abum called FAITH in the future, isn’t it? But it’s his way apparently. He wants to create a paradox, a contrast and it’s clear since the cover of the album, since it doesn’t strike as a faithful cover to me lmao
Whatever gets you through the darkest night, Just find the light, Out in the madness, hold tight
Now that I’m writing about it, every line in this song feels like a ring of a chain and everyone references the other like it’s 🤯. Sometimes when I listen to songs I imagine how the singer would speak to someone else. For this part, I clearly see future Louis talking to present Louis and that applies to any other timeline, it’s an inception of Louis talking to himself basically. He’s encouraging to keep going no matter what (whatever gets you).
Through the night… isn’t it a-m-a-z-i-n-g how consistent this theme is in Louis songs? He’s been singing Through the dark for months and look at her, coming back in disguise! Self references are hot, but this one gets the cake. Is he by any chance saying «whatever gets you through the night… we will find a way through the dark» etc etc? Love it. 10/10.
'Cause I'm a hard man to lose
This has always felt a bit… weird. Like imagine you go “im hard man to lose” in a song where you are basically saying you are happy you’re together again or something. It feels… arrogant? A bit? And honestly that’s not a ‘songwriter Louis’ move. I just don’t see it. And I know, it’s always about the layers with him, but what if it’s literal this time? What if he is saying “I am not the one gives up, I am not the one losing”? After all, he’s been pretty open here about how hard he worked, he has just said he has to hold tightly.
But I figured it out then made my way back To a life I would choose
He settled it for me in this line. He is not one to lose, that’s how he went back to the life he chose and he says it as proudly as he can because the thing is… it doesn’t matter how crazy it is (the madness and all that) but he would do it again. Despite all the shit, he would do it again. You can take it as a nod to his relationship of course. He changes the line second time with ‘I'm a hard man to find, but you figured it out and I love you for that’, almost pushing for a love story interpretation. But to me it feels more like he is talking about second chances, specifically in his life and work opportunities . The life I would choose part screams career to me and hits you in the face pretty hard if you think of how many obstacles he has been going through since the start of his solo career and even before during the band.
We were lucky once, I could be lucky again
He’s been using only you/I form til here. Now, I know this we can be misleading. It’s very natural to conceive a we as an us, like two people in a relationship or something, but see… that’s very Louis lol. He writes songs like stories and here he’s storytelling. Sometimes it even feels like a plurale maiestatis! I use it an embarrassing amount of time especially for non-formal conversations, and probably this is my bias of interpretation since English is not my first language but it’s curious the way he switches from a We (in past form), to I (possible future form). That’s why I think the we is used only to help with the story he’s writing about, the past he’s recalling while writing the song.
Before the world had got so serious, Before the time it got away from us
Layers againnnnn! Is this about his past maybe in the band or before that? Is this about… I don’t know, the pandemic? The world got pretty serious in 2020 didn’t it? And stunt-wise things haven’t been looking pretty bright since the second half of 2020 so… yeah. But actually I consider this a description of more innocent times. He seems nostalgic of. Still… he doesn’t seem to be willing to go back then again. He misses simple times, but has faith the future would make him feel lucky again.
It got away from us… is so strong. It’s powerful the way he never really blames anyone for the bad or the wrong. It’s just that time goes away. Very Heraclitus of him with the panta rei and all (an usual recurrent theme in Louis songwriting) and very it is what it is too. He’s very coherent in his songs, I love it.
I meet you at the favorite subway stop, We grab some food then meet the lads for one
Storytelling king strikes again. He’s so good in describing moments from the past. Like Saturdays is a song born entirely from past memories, so I really shouldn’t be surprised he does it in Lucky too, but still! Look, lines like this are seriously meant to paint a scenario in your head and he does it so well. Meet, eat and smoke with friends like a Netflix and chill ante litteram. It’s so straightforward. 11/10.
Look back on a time, I was lucky once, I could be lucky again
I love love LOOOVE the way he uses look back on a time, because he really kinda confirms how all he just did was recalling moments from a past life through lyrical narration.
What a gem of a song.
Also special mention to The unfiltered version of Lucky again with the “I’m lucky/I’m in love” whatever the fuck you meant by that, Louis, that was pretty sick and it should have survived the final revisions.
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sucrefemme · 3 months
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It’s been one year since my best friend passed. A whole year without her. She missed her birthday, she missed my birthday, she missed Valentine’s Day.
There hasn’t been a single day this year she hasn’t been on my mind. These last few days she’s been all I could think about.
I have a lot of things I wonder about. Was she scared, in the split second before she was gone? Was there any chance any of us could’ve saved her? Was there any way to stop all that happened to her? Maybe none of it matters, I’ll never know, but I do know that I miss her. More than I can put into words.
I’m a human being. People have come and gone from my life and I’ve mourned losing them. But I’ve taken some comfort in knowing that no matter how much I hurt them or they hurt me, they’re out there somewhere, feeling the sun on their face. This is nothing like that.
All at once, someone I love disappeared. Nobody gets to see her smile, listen to her laugh, hear that little nasally cadence she took on when she was making jokes. There’s no more of her paintings, no more of her poetry, no more of her Instagram collages, Spotify playlists, or tiktok lipsynchs. No more FaceTimes where she talks about her friends and her hookups and her favorite new outfits.
My favorite person in the world, gone at only nineteen. There’s so much I wish I could tell her. I changed my major. I’ve met lots of lovely people. Most of all I want to tell her that my best friend died. What a paradox that is. All I want to do is tell her about it. Cry on the phone with her. Have her tell me that I’ll be okay, that things will get better, that they always get better.
I’m heartbroken. I miss her so much. I love her so much. In the long run, I know I’ll see her soon. Lifetimes are short and they repeat. Eventually our lives will overlap again. I hope she’s out there. I hope she’s feeling the rain on her face. I hope she knows she’s loved.
In our last phone call she told me “I miss you, I love you, I’ll see you soon.” And I repeated those words back to her. I’m glad I remember those words.
I miss her. I love her. I’ll see her soon.
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whats-k-popping · 2 years
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Hi, I don't know if you're still available for requests bc ur bio said closed but your most recent post said open so if you do still accepting request, could you maybe do a canon setting fic where Namjoon was sick with stomach bug or something + exhaustion during a concert that made him keep throwing up in between set & being visibly pale & swaying a couple of times during performance, but when the members & directors noticed and told him to rest he refused because he's afraid of worrying the armys. So the members keep checking on him throughout the concert, but on the ending ment he had no more energy left in him to power through & suddenly fainted and after the concert ends at the backstage hen he wakes up got panic attack because of what happened earlier he was so afraid of disappointing and making armys worried. The boys comfort him & takes care of him afterwards. Sorry if this is too much to ask but thank you so much in advance 😊
Thanks so much for this request anon! Sorry it's taken me forever to get to!! but I figured Namjoon Day would be the perfect time to post again! I really love this request and I hope you can enjoy it as well!
Pairing: OT7 - Platonic, but ship as you wish. .
Words: 2578
Warning: Emeto || Graphic Descriptions of Vom!ting || Flu Symptoms || Fainting || Exhaustion || Fever || Allusions to Objectification of Idols || Pan!c Attack ||
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Namjoon isn't usually one to hide his symptoms. He's usually good about reading his body and knowing what his body needs. When it needs food, he eats. When it needs water, he drinks. And when it needs rest, he rests. Usually. But it's their first performance together in months. And he's not about to miss it.
So despite what his body tells him, he's determined to push through. He owes it to everyone. To himself, to his members, to their staff, and to ARMY. He needs to be on that stage. 
His body is screaming at him though. For the last few days, he's known he's coming down with something. But preparations are in full swing. They have to practice choreography, go over the set list, wardrobe fittings, stage tests, sound checks, rehearsals, meetings, haircuts…it's non-stop. He doesn't even have time to check the fever he knows boils beneath his skin. 
But he can feel it. He feels the paradoxical sweaty chill, feels roiling nausea turn his stomach, feels burning fatigue in every single overused and unused muscle, and feels a clouded fog in his mind. He hears himself gasping desperately for air after every run through. He can hear himself gulp down his stomach's attempts to relieve the nausea. He can’t relieve it now. Later. Way later. After the show later. 
He's been hiding symptoms for days. And it's accumulated into a nasty stomach flu that he doesn't have time to nurse. He feels awful, but not awful enough to tell anyone. So he sucks it up through the dress rehearsal, sucks it up while they get ready for the first stage. And now he finds himself under the spotlight, tens of thousands of ARMYs expecting him to put on an astounding performance. He lives to serve. 
He somehow makes it through the first set. In wide, quick-paced strides, he makes his way off the stage. While all the other members vere left, he runs off to the right. His stomach could only take so much of their rigorous choreography. He can't it hold back any longer.
He's on his knees, staring down at the clean toilet water when he feels his stomach shift again. The vomit comes up easily, eager to finally be permitted relief. He hasn't eaten much throughout the day, or rather, the last few days. He's been too nauseous to eat, too nauseous to even think about food. 
It's mostly liquid, with a few undigested bits of rice he's been able to force down. It splashes into the bowl. When it starts, it doesn't stop. He knows he still has to get into his next costume. He needs to get his hair and make-up touched up. He doesn't have a lot of time. But he just can't stop heaving. 
He can't afford to be late. ARMY is waiting. His members are probably already ready for the next set. And he hasn't even started. So he forces himself to swallow down another heave before the contents leave his mouth. It tastes disgusting, feels heavy in his stomach, and leaves him coughing so hard he has to gasp for air. But it brings an end to the vomiting. For now, anyway. 
When he rejoins the members, the stylists make quick work of changing him and touching him up. There's at least seven of them surrounding him, each prodding around different areas of his body, trying to make sure he's ready for the next set. 
The others are waiting, finished preparing for the next set. They're standing around the catering table, snacking to refuel their energy before going back out. 
"Joonie-hyung, where did you go?" Jimin asks as the stylists buzz around him. "We were worried you weren't going to make it." 
"Had to use the bathroom," Namjoon replies quickly. He wipes new sweat from his forehead. He probably put more effort into vomiting than he did into performing. He's so tired. 
"You're looking a little pale," Seokjin adds. "Have you eaten enough today?" 
Namjoon shakes his head. He's about to defend himself saying he doesn't have the appetite, but Taehyung shoves a piece of chicken into his mouth. "You need the protein, hyungie." The second maknae grins. "We are only just getting started tonight." Namjoon hates when Taehyung is right. He hides his scowl as he chews on the chicken. 
The second set starts off on a rising platform. They take their places on the platform and listen to the ARMY screams from the stadium, waiting for the music to start. Namjoon stands with Yoongi to his left and Jungkook to his right. There’s minor chatter going on around him but he can only focus on the pounding in his head. When the strobe lights start, Namjoon sways and stumbles into Yoongi. Yoongi falters a bit at the added pressure, but braces himself and Namjoon with him. “Sorry,” Namjoon mutters, picking himself up and standing back in place. 
Jungkook peeks forward and makes eye contact with Yoongi, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern. Yoongi looks back with a pout and shrugs his shoulders. They both spare worrisome glances to Namjoon throughout the second set. Jungkook sees him sway when he steps away. Yoongi sees him holding his head and palming his stomach when his back is turned. They both see him run off as soon as the stage goes dark. And they are starting to suspect that it’s not just anticipation for the final set. 
They all follow him off the stage and are only slightly surprised when they don’t find him in the back room with the stylists. While the stylists work on getting them ready for the next set, Jungkook and Yoongi fill the rest of the members on what they’ve observed. Soon enough, there’s a team of directors and medics in the room with them. Namjoon’s alarmed when he stumbles in. This time, the medics swarm him. 
He’s escorted, all but carried, over to the sofa to rest. There’s over a dozen bodies surrounding him, circling him like vultures. 
“What was he thinking?” Yoongi scolds. 
“He’s running a fever,” One of the medics calls out. 
“We need to prepare a notice. He’s done for the night.” A manager declares. 
“He could have seriously hurt himself,” Seokjin lectures. 
“He’s dehydrated,” The medic again. “He needs fluids.”
“Doesn’t he trust us?” Jungkook asks. 
“The boys need to get back on stage.” the stage director adds. 
Namjoon hates the way they all talk about him like he’s not there. He may be feverish and a bit disoriented. But he can still hear them. He can understand them. They talk about him like he’s just an object. A broken tool, not capable of serving a purpose. His members are disappointed, his staff is angry. Everyone is making decisions for him, like he’s not capable. 
He’s the leader. He’s more than capable. 
“I’m going to finish the show.” Namjoon declares, his voice nowhere near as commanding as it usually is. But the determination is there. “I want to finish the show.” 
All the frantic eyes point to him, but he doesn;t back down. He straightens his posture and gives his best focused glare. There may be spots dancing around his vision. But they don’t need to know that. 
“Namjoon-ssi.” One of the senior managers starts, “You’re not well.” 
“I haven’t been well this whole time. And I’ve been pulling it off.” Namjoon rebutes, “It’s the final set. I can make it another half hour.” 
The members can all feel Namjoon’s determination. They all have to agree he’s been doing remarkably well on stage given his condition. He’s been able to hide it so well, they almost hadn’t suspected anything. It makes them proud and angry at the same time. They exchange some subtle glances and nods in telepathic communication. 
“We really can’t recommend that you go back on stage. What if something happens?” The manager counters. 
“I’m 29 years old. I can make my own decisions.” Namjoon borderline shouts. He’s usually obedient to the orders of management. But this is one of the few things he won’t back down from. It’s their first and last time to perform together for a while. He’s not going to sit out. 
Besides, if he sits out now, ARMY will think something is wrong. They weren’t briefed in advance. It’s not fair to the thousands of fans in the stadium. He owes it to them to finish the concert as well. His mind is made up. His resolve is steeled. He’s not going to budge. 
“It’s only one more set.” Hoseok interjects, “And the choreo isn’t as intense in this set.” 
“We’ll keep an eye on him the whole time.” Seokjin adds. 
“Please let Namjoonie-hyung finish the concert.” Jimin smiles sweetly to the managers. 
There’s a short hushed conversation between the management. They’re hesitant to allow it, but in the end, their desire to resume the performance wins out. The boys should have been back on stage minutes ago. It’s going to throw everything off if they don’t get back out there. And they’ve come to realize that a determined Namjoon is a force to be reckoned with. So they reluctantly agree. The medical staff patch him up then Namjoon is quickly changed into his fit for the final set. It’s several minutes late, but they finally make their way back to the stage.
Seokjin wasn’t kidding when he said they would keep an eye on him. He feels the concerned glances of the members throughout every verse. It feels like someone always has a hand on shoulder or around his waist. They are lingering closer to him than usual. He doesn’t hate it though. He just hopes ARMY doesn’t suspect anything. 
The final set is hard, made harder by the fact that he knows the members and the managers are keeping a vigilant watch over him. One careless fumble and the boys will rush into a chaotic panic. He can’t let that happen. He talked big, so he has to walk even bigger. 
Jimin taps his shoulder when it’s time to line up for the ending ments. His heart is racing, he can hardly catch his breath. His chest feels tight, he clutches at the neckline of his shirt as he takes his place in line. His vision is blurred, but he can see the vibrant yellow and Jungkook’s jacket and follows it. Someone, Taehyung, is shoving a bottle of water into his hand. He sips it. But it’s hard to drink and gasp for air at the same time. 
Namjoon feels like a dead battery. He’s given everything he had to ARMY. There’s nothing left to give. It’s hard to stand up, hard to keep his eyes open. He wants to curl into bed and sleep. He’s not regretting his decision, but he’s never been so desperate to get off the stage in his whole career. Usually he dreads walking off the stage for the final time. Today, he’s anticipating it. 
One second, Namjoon hears Taehyung. The next, he hears nothing but a loud ringing in his ears. His body hits the stage with a thud. 
When the leader wakes, he’s no longer on the stage. He’s in his hotel room, tucked into bed. A glance around the room reveals that he’s not alone. The six members are there, along with members of the medical staff shuffling around the room. 
“Guys, he’s awake.” Jungkook calls, sitting closest to Namjoon at the edge of the bed. 
Namjoon hears them all shuffle, taking up purchase on his queen size mattress. The medical staff run a few non-invasive tests and pack up their things. It’s the flu. He needs bed rest and simple medication. They note to monitor him overnight and quickly leave the room. 
He searches his memory for any recollection of how he ended up in his bed. Last he remembered, he was on stage. He doesn’t remember closing out the show, waving goodbye to ARMY. He doesn’t remember how everything ended. Which tells him it must have ended badly. He must have done something to ruin it. He must have worried everyone. The faces of his members say it all. 
“It’s all my fault?” Namjoon asks, but he’s already in tears over the situation. He can’t seem to find a breath, like his lungs are closed off and there’s a weight pressed against his chest. His whole body trembles, but not just with the shivers of a feverish chill. His sight narrows and it feels like his whole world is caving in on him. There’s an insane pressure, a nagging voice laughing at his failure. Another voice telling him he’s not fit to be in the group, let alone lead it. 
“Joonie, you did so well.” Hoseok comforts him, pulling him close and petting his hair. He’s seen Namjoon in a state of panic several times before. He’s quick to recognize the signs and keep his fellow 94 liner grounded.  
“I couldn’t do it.” Namjoon cries, clinging tightly onto Hoseok. His fever is spiking, his body aches, and there’s a new centralized pain on the back of his head that adds to his headache. He’s miserable. He wants his hyungs. He wants his dongsaengs. He wants his family. “I just wanted to put on a good show for ARMY. They probably hate me now. You guys were right. What was I thinking!” Hoseok’s shirt is damp with tear stains and sweat. He pulls Namjoon closer.
“They won’t hate you, hyung.” Taehyung grabs one of Namjoon’s hands. They’re still gripping the fabric of Hoseok’s shirt, but Taehyung keeps his hand over Namjoon’s anyway. “They were worried about you. But Yoongi-hyung did a great job ensuring everyone that you would be okay.” 
“Do they know?” Namjoon asks, a small voice riddled with sobs. 
“You fainted on stage, Joonie. We had to tell them the truth.” Seokjin replies bluntly, “The company also issued an official statement about your illness and recovery measures. Everything’s taken care of. You just need to focus on getting better.” 
The remaining members all make some form of physical contact with Namjoon, reminding him that illness happens and that ARMY will understand. Jungkook takes a selfie of all of them and posts it to Weverse, along with the caption that they are taking good care of their leader and that Namjoon’s doing better already. He just wants to ease Namjoon’s concern. Within seconds, the post is flooded with comments from all over the world wishing Namjoon a speedy recovery and reminding him to prioritize his health.
Namjoon relaxes as Jungkook reads through the messages, replying to some on behalf of all the members. The panic took away the minimal energy that Namjoon had regained and his eyes start to slip closed again. Yoongi notices, softened by the gentleness of the action. He tucks Namjoon back into the bed. “Alright, Namjoon-ah.” He whispers, hoping the rest of the members will catch on, “Now that ARMY knows you’re getting better, you really need to start doing that. Get some rest, the six of us will be here the whole time. Let us know if you need anything.” He runs a hand through Namjoon’s sweaty hair. He knows the medics gave Namjoon fever reducers, but they don’t seem to have kicked in yet. 
“Sleep tight, Joonie-hyung.” Jimin presses a gentle kiss to Namjoon’s warm temple. No one moves off the bed. For the first time in days, Namjoon rests well.
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A/N: Sorry I've been a bit MIA. Trying to get back to writing daily but life has been, well life. Please know I'm still working hard to get through requests. Happy Namjoon Day!! And as always, thanks for reading to the end! Feedback is always appreciated. And please let me know if I missed any tags or TWs. Please call me out for any errors you notice!
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fic rec list
Because I’ve never done one of these, and I would really like to shout-out some stories that reduce me to a pile of ash every time I so much as think about them. So here, my 10 favorite fics in no particular order:
ideny’s Dirty Sympathy (Ace Attorney; klapollo)
“I do not know that I believe in fate. But I believe in helplessness, and that is almost the same.”
Coming as absolutely no fucking shock to anybody who’s known me or followed this blog for the past two years or so. The premise: Klavier and Apollo are in abusive relationships with Daryan and Kristoph respectively, meet by chance, and frame each other’s tormentors for murder. What follows is AA4, told with this undercurrent, culminating in a third act that had me in my best friend’s dms wailing incomprehensibly. This fic runs the full spectrum of human emotion. This fic redefined fic for me. Some day in the future I’m going to sit down and dissect this fic’s narrative structure just so I can maybe attain half the power and cohesion of it. Every single one of ideny’s characters is so powerfully written--not just the main players, but the side cast. The characters that appear for like, one scene and are never seen again. So much thought and care is put into each line and it really, really shows.
The revised first 74 chapters are on Ao3 here; the LiveJournal thread with the full original version is here. The revision leaves off at the end of 149c/some (you’ll have to scroll down really far to see it). If you’re making the jump you’ll know you’ve gotten the right starting point if the post opens with ‘The sounds his feet make on the dark wooden stairs in the front hall [...]’.
hatsuna’s I wish to live in a world (Haikyuu!!; sakuatsu)
Guarantees were foolish things, so hope was all Motoya had to brave the world, and the wings of that were too frail to build futures upon.
The sakuatsu, if you can believe it, is not the important part of this fic. The lens the sakuatsu is viewed through is. This fic is a fabulous example of a study on a relationship viewed from the outside: in this case, Komori’s efforts to reconcile the cousin he knows with the cousin who has somehow entered a relationship with someone like Atsumu--undeniably the same person, and somehow not at all. The way this story makes me feel is very difficult to put into words, mainly because I haven’t seen a fic that handles all the strange, uncomfortable, pieces-missing emotions surrounding how you see people and how other people see the same person, intertwined with the wistfulness involved in growing up, as well as this one does. It’s soft and squidgy and somehow presents itself such that the reader can see the contradictions in how Komori sees the world, but Komori himself cannot. There isn’t much that’s more human than that.
@glassedplanets’ quema (Bleach; grimmichi)
So he opens his mouth, not to devour but to welcome, and marks this down in some immutable corner of his being: first of many, first of many, first of many.
Where lies the line between want and obligation? What happens when the borders between the three worlds come down? This list would of course not be complete without me pointing furiously at this fic and making completely incoherent noises. Nailing the neverending nature of something in writing is really, really hard to do and this delivers in spades (hah). There is a simplicity to the way Grimmjow and Ichigo view and navigate each other that is paradoxically complex and alien and fascinating to witness. Highly recommended for those of you that like exploring relationships that are very much atypical in their love languages (what is yearning but another form of hunger, after all?) and also have a soft spot for incredibly well-written fight sequences and prose that hits like a hammer. And also Reishi Theory.
@kanthia‘s Life Goes On (Dragon Ball; vegebul and hanvi)
She likes it on Mount Paozu, where gods visit for tea and dinner, and love is the quiet between words.
Fine I’m cheating a little bit with this one since it’s a collection and not one fic, but self-imposed limitations say I can only use an author once, otherwise this list would have maybe three people on it.
Dragon Ball is a series full of patent ridiculousness, we all know this about it, but it is also a series full of these very grounded, soft moments that shine all the more because of the ridiculousness surrounding them. That they’ve got a quality of ambiguity makes them magnetic: We see and know as fact that Vegeta and Bulma eventually marry and have children, but we know next to nothing about the specifics involved in how they got there, even though the trajectory throughout the canon is believable. Kanthia’s specialty is in weaving together plausible extrapolation with what few things canon does give us to pull the mundane parts of Dragon Ball to the fore, and they do it heartbreakingly well. Of this collection, The Gods Themselves is probably my favorite, but all of them get me deep in my feelings one way or another.
Quiddity’s A Fair Exchange (Fire Emblem: Three Houses; ferdibert)
Goddess, Hubert thinks, he looks like he belongs there, and it infuriates him that he is so drawn to something so intent against heeding him.
Who doesn’t love a good merman/human romance? I know I do. Quid’s punchy, playful style gives the tale of Hubert struggling to cling to his dignity in the face of the siren song of an exceptionally bratty and beautiful mer!Ferdinand (merdinand, if you will) a delightfully colorful tone. Join them as they work out what they feel for each other--as well as the intentions of a suspicious character that’s turned up in the capital.
@transversely’s the butterfly stance (Attack on Titan; annie/eren)
She could have lived aeons without knowing what she knows now: that someone can have the disposition that she does, can face what she faces, and still choose what she couldn’t.
Though this piece was written quite a while before Attack on Titan got really in depth on Annie’s story, I find that it still holds up as a melancholy look into her head--particularly where it concerns her connection with Eren, and through Eren with herself and her mission. As much as I hate to leave this recommendation hanging vague, it does by its nature contain a lot of really pertinent spoilers, so I advise holding off on this one until you’ve gotten through the canon covered through the end of the first anime season (I don’t off the top of my head remember what that translates to in manga chapters). Trust me, it’s worth the restraint.
@queenieofaces’ linear time is fake; you can only trust your fists (JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure; jotaro character study)
Jotaro just persists. There’s nothing laudable about outliving everyone around him.
If you’re in the market for a dealing-(badly)-with-trauma narrative that does unsettling things with the concept of time, here’s your story. I’m a personal fan of exploring the inner workings of ‘stoic’ characters, especially when those inner workings are a total, possibly-spirit-possessed disaster, and this one’s fantastic. 
@isozyme’s we are the reckless (Homestuck; vriska/aradia space au)
“What the fuck is your deal?” she asked. “I’m Vriska fucking Serket, traitor to the New Crown, the one and only Two Faced Bitch, the Scourge, and I am old as balls and I have killed shit twice your size, and I am ordering you to get us into space without exploding our sorry meatsacks in the process, because I am the boss of you!”
The helmsman’s pupils were narrow slits and she was breathing hard, but her gaze tracked Vriska across the small room. She was beautiful and dangerous, like a pit viper or a lieutenant with a soft heart. Vriska had put down a lot of beautiful and dangerous things. “I’m Aradia,” the helmsman said. “And I don’t care.”
Sometimes a fic is a fragment of a much larger story that will never be told in its entirety, but in truth the fragment is all you need. Vriska is a fugitive from justice. Aradia is the helmsman of the ship she steals to flee on. Their flight is dogged by misfortune and ghosts from both of their pasts, which somehow is soil fertile enough for trust--however tentative--to germinate. This story draws you in (if you’re like me) with curiosity about the setting, and keeps you along for the ride with beautiful turns of phrase. And at the end you’ll wonder: what comes next? Ultimately, that’s for you to daydream about.
@thornescratch’s How to Succeed in Sexual Blackmail Without Really Trying (Final Fantasy VII; reno/cloud)
“My life,” Cloud said slowly, “is sometimes indescribably strange.”
Rufus looked at him and there was nothing but sincerity in his eyes. “Oh, Strife, you have no idea.”
And then, sometimes a fic is one of those ones you reread whenever you need a laugh. Thorne excels at tart, deadpan anecdotal humor and describing the totally-insane-when-you-step-back-and-think-about-it mess that is Cloud Strife and the people he knows. One of whom is Reno, whose knowledge of what blackmail actually is is debatable, who is freakishly persistent, and who is--to the detriment of the possibility of a headacheless existence--utterly irreverent and inappropriate. And somehow, it’s charming. Who knew.
AlienYak’s I’m a fucking genius, and I can’t stop contradicting myself (Eyeshield 21; agon/hiruma)
The expression on Hiruma’s face when he turns away is the defeated one Agon had once wanted to see, once coveted and ruined three lives to get near. And now that it’s right there in front of him, he doesn’t know what to do with it, except to walk away.
Agon mourns for his genius and sanity whilst trying to solve the problem of Hiruma. That is: Hiruma’s presence, his draw, and why the fresh hell he feels the way he feels about him. Because he’s an asshole, he has a lot of trouble with it. Because Hiruma’s also an asshole, he doesn’t make it easy on either of them. Sometimes the relationship is just not very healthy and sometimes that’s why it’s fascinating.
So concludes my list! I highly recommend checking out other works from all the authors listed here, every one of them have multiple incredibly good stories to tell and it would be a shame to only let one or two of them see the light of day. Hope I did an adequate job selling all these!
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roominthecastle · 2 years
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I am honestly so confused by the 'Harry is Goliath' reveal. More than the storyline, just that they figured it out. At no point has time travel been a thing. (Right? Did I miss a hint somewhere about it?) Shapeshifting on the other hand - most definitely a thing. So why, when confronted with things that no one else should know/have been present for, wasn't the first theory: 'Goliath came to Patience and spied on us, and we had no idea because he could've looked like literally anyone'.
But: somehow, Harry is Goliath and made messages for himself!
Like, how is that a logical leap to take? Why did Asta come up with that? On the list of possible explanations for the paintings, that was like... number 37.
I know they're seriously deviating from the comic and that's fine, but this is such a weird, convoluted thing to do. Putting aside the time loop issue and inevitability and how stupidly they've written themselves into a corner with this (if they prevent the destruction of earth, Harry won't be stuck for 300 years, won't evolve, won't come back as Goliath, won't warn himself, so the destruction will happen... and they're stuck in a spiral now.) it's just not necessary. We went from the idea that aliens exposed to humanity for long enough could change and learn to feel and care. But turns out, no. Just Harry. He's alone in this.
Again.
My head is def still spinning with this twist, anon, so bear with me as I try to feel my way to a semi-coherent answer. But thank you for this ask bc it gave me a great opportunity to try and wrap my brain around what the fresh hell is going on here :D
The short version is: I, too, am confused and can only hope they sort this mess in a satisfactory way.
The long, rambly version:
I don't think the possibility of time travel's been explicit but it's been implicitly present since day one - sort of like Chekhov's wormhole. Harry said his home is 46 light-years away, so it would have been pointless for him to radio his people to stay away for 50 years because even if they could travel at the speed of light, it would still take them about 50 years to arrive. Therefore, they must have figured out how to use wormholes and the necessary ingredient for this is the same that enables time travel (and is in Harry's alien balls, I suspect): exotic matter. Not at all sure how aware Asta is of all this but she has seen all the crazy stuff Harry can do + she’s been deep diving into all things alien on the internet, so the idea of time travel might have been floating around in her mind already.
That being said, my reaction was the same as yours when she instantly zeroed in on Goliath-is-time-traveling-Harry. It def feels like a result of a pacing/writing issue that's really starting to chafe this show, imo. They are crunching plot at the expense of everything else and I'm never a fan of that. And it's not the plot I don't like, it's the speed that warps everything around it, characters included. Plus I've also developed an aversion to "gamechanger" surprise twists but that's not this show's fault, it's just that I've rarely experienced one that doesn't knife an otherwise promising story in the heart, so I’m always reflexively concerned whenever it happens. Fingers crossed they have an actual plan beyond “shock and awe”.
Right now everything depends on where they choose to go with this twist. It's a mess but it can still be great and meaningful. Time travel stories are ripe with contradictions that regularly make my head hurt (I still love them, tho). The particular paradox you describe would def reduce this story to a hopeless, pointless fixed loop that goes against the governing massage of hope they've been cultivating.
One (maybe the only) solution I can think of atm is introducing the idea of parallel, intersecting timelines that connect via wormholes or "bridges". The fact that this ep also featured an actual bridge connecting past/present/future might not be accidental, either. In the ep Harry also mentions ley lines which are believed by some to be pockets of concentrated energy (like wormholes) that connect places. So maybe they are the spots where parallel worlds also brush up against each other.
In this scenario, future!Harry steps back into the past of an intersecting parallel timeline (ours) where he can effect meaningful change and safeguard Earth. This way this version of him would not be stuck in a doomed loop forever, "our" Harry can live out the rest of his days without having to become Goliath, and the paradox would be eliminated.
And this would take nothing away from our Harry’s development, either.
His 500-year old solitary wandering on a dead planet was not the source of Harry’s extraordinary growth, it was the result of it. He pinpoints the real source in the flash-forward at the beginning: Asta. She is also the reason he refuses to shed his dying human body bc that’s the body that has known her, that she knew (oh boy oh boy, the implications here are just so rich but I digress...). And when the time comes and he has no choice but to transform back into his alien form, that's when he begins his quest to find a way to set things right. Hope pushes him forward, hope that she gave him, hope that is his love in its most enduring form.
So this “many worlds” solution would make Goliath!Harry a parallel or alt version of our Harry, an identical copy if you will, who would not only serve as a portend & guide but would also demonstrate just how much growth our Harry (and his kind in general) is truly capable of. I mean, just because we haven't seen other aliens develop in a way Harry does, it doesn't mean it isn't possible for them. Quite the opposite, I believe.
So yeah, I have no idea what is going on anymore but am cautiously optimistic it’s gonna become one hell of a ride. We’ll see.
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indigobackfire · 2 years
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From THIS character interview prompt by @creativestalkerrs if y'all wanna try it too ;)
1. Who or what challenges you?
Ind: Everything and everyone's a challenge to a Gryffindor. [Laughs] Rakepick was quite the challenge to me, both in regards to my magical capabilities and my morality. Barnaby's family is one damn challenge for our relationship. Friendship challenges my selfishness, therefore it challenges me.
Pho: I believe I am my biggest challenge to overcome, my own anger and fears. I don't see other people as challenges.
Asp: I think people see me as a challenge so my challenge is deconstructing people's idea of me. Does it make sense? Maybe I'm not good with good first impressions, I suppose.
Ach: Grief. It challenges me in the way it never ends, you'll probably miss the people you lose forever. And ignorant people often challenge my patience.
2. What makes you feel unsafe?
Ind: Not knowing. Ignorance is bliss, but I'm always shown enough to leave me uneasy but not enough that I understand. So I suppose it's more than knowing, it's understanding. It's a very Ravenclaw thing to say, isn't it? Makes me sound like my Ma.
Pho: People who don't listen and unpredictable people. [He reflects for a second and laughs] Sounds like my siblings. They're a danger to themselves and it makes me uneasy.
Asp: Being powerless.
Ach: My feelings. Is it a paradox? Maybe. But I mean in the way my feelings make me vulnerable, both for love and anger and whatever feelings exist in between and beyond.
3. If you were to die and come back as a person or a thing, what would it be?
Ind: From previous experiences, I'd like to be a house cat. As person it's redundant, it'd still be me.
Pho: I've always wanted to be a tree. I guess it's not a very thrilling life, but it's a long fulfilling experience. I'd be a Baobab!
Asp: As a very annoying crow.
Ach: I'd like to be reborn as someone less effed up. Or like a cool sea creature, like a kelpie or a shark.
4. Were you voted “most likely” for anything in your class yearbook? (I'll make this into a 'what would you be')
Ind: Most likely to go insane. Or to die young...
Pho: To be a Veela. [Chuckles] I don't know... most likely to travel the world. I hope.
Asp: Most likely to be arrested. Or or most likely to become Minister for Magic. Not hat I want to be that, I just think people would assume I would. It's either sink or swim with me.
Ach: Most likely to become a pro quidditch player. A bit boring but people don't know much about me beyond that.
5. Do you think some people in certain situations might be more valuable than others?
Ind: Again with those words. Well, if you're talking about functionality, yes. I always trust Penny to help me with potions, but I don't turn to her when regarding creatures or duelling. As for the value of life, we're equally deserving.
Pho: Maybe. But it's such a difficult thing to measure... People who can keep themselves in control are quite reliable.
Asp: Yes, sure. We're all good at different things.
Ach: Certainly.
6. If you were to enter food-eating contest what would you want the food to be?
Ind: Sweet roasted nuts, especially cashews. It's making me salivate just thinking about it.
Pho: Flaky pastries. Though I'd probably lose, my stomach gets upset very easily, but I'd have fun.
Asp: Grapes. I could eat grapes all day long. All kinds of grape, with or without seeds, doesn't matter.
Ach: Chocolate.
7. What type of journalist would you be?
Ind: Sneaky and untrusting. I would be good, but I wouldn't be ethical [Smiles].
Pho: A good one. I think I'm a good writer. But then I'm a little too trusting... I'd be a better editor than journalist.
Asp: I've considered working for the Daily Prophet, but mostly cause I wish to kick Rita Skeeter out of there. That lying b-
Ach: If I liked talking to people more... Beyond that aspect, I certainly be great, I'm not one to shy away from conflict.
8. Have you ever rescued anyone or anything?
Ind: I've rescued a cat, my dear Mocha. Oh, and my stupid older brother, Jacob.
Pho: I often rescue my best friend from some pickles. I'm too nice, borderline naive, but he's worse and he lets people use him and his good will, so I often have to step in to keep his best interest. Ha, I'm sounding like my mom.
Asp: My cousin, Indigo, several times, she's a mess. And my fellow housemates. Are you even a Slytherin if you're not willing to lie for each other? Don't answer that. And my boyfriend, don't let that big head fool you, he's got a cherry pepper there instead of a brain.
Ach: Myself. In my heart I believe I rescued Indigo from... no, no, don't write that.
9. Do you blame someone or something for the way your life is turning out?
Ind: Jacob. Just kidding... kinda. Not everything is his fault, a lot of it is R- Forget it. I guess I have a curse in my blood and that isn't anybody else's fault.
Pho: Our ends are self made.
Asp: I'm always angry at the world and almost everyone in it, but my life is mine.
Ach: Yes. With names and surnames.
10. What wild animal deserves our protection?
Ind: They don't have to deserve it being protected. Especially considering we would probably be protecting them from ourselves, amongst themselves they're in harmony and when the harmony on its own breaks so far, a new ecosystem has been created. Sorry, for the rambling, my boyfriend's a magizoologist.
Pho: Deserve is a weird word... I guess I'm biased towards birds, if I had to choose, they're important pollinators.
Asp: [Shrugs] Mosquitos certainly don't. And those freaky acromantulas.
Ach: All of them. Animals lack consciousness like humans have, they're not cruel or just, they're on instinct, what would they do to deserve protection or not? Unless you're being disgustingly utilitarian.
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anfie-in-the-box · 1 year
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Я опубликовал(а) 51 пост в 2022 году
22 поста создано (43%)
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Блоги, из которых я сделал(а) больше всего реблогов:
@anfie-in-the-box
@zu-is-here
@ao3commentoftheday
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@slylock-syl
Я пометил(а) тегами 41 из своих постов в 2022 году
Только 20% из моих постов остались без тегов
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#anfie writes - 7 постов
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Самый длинный тег: 79 символов
#like either the world proved something to me or i proved something to the world
Мои самые популярные посты в 2022:
#5
X-tra Dark Cream & Dark Cream Week
Notes
By some miracle, I finished this a few days before the event, so please have this little thing. It's not even a spoiler for Turns, twists, and paradoxes, since there's not much plot or would-building or whatnot. Just some feelings and mild info gathering without any details (again, not to spoil anything). You may consider it a teaser of some kind if you'd like.
For those who are interested in X-tra Dark Cream, here's the link to the first chapter of the main work (with beautiful fanart!) and the first teaser (also for Dark Cream Week, by the way!)
。。。
On Edge
Cross is right on the edge of a universe, some kind of Outerfell or something, watching its code carefully.
。。。
Dream is waiting for him in the Anti-void, always on edge, always somewhere between life and death, so fragile and so strong it fascinates even him.
。。。
Cross rubs his tired, sore eyes. Looking for weak points is never easy; it's a boring, thankless job, something he's not fond of at all.
。。。
Dream is sick of waiting. He hates it when Cross has to leave, but he's also useless where Cross is not. He can't see the code, and he can't trust himself to stay the way he is, so instead, he stays put.
。。。
Cross misses Dream greatly. It hurts to be away for long, and what he's doing always takes so very long. Scanning the whole universe's code, its every timeline and character, is time-consuming for sure. But as Nightmare said, Dream's power is highly specific, so they need to know what they're doing. Cross will make damn sure they do.
。。。
The lack of Cross' warmth and complicated emotions, always love and always heartbreak, affects Dream greatly. The Anti-void is, like it's supposed to be, empty, and while it's safer this way for everyone including Dream, it's also suffocating in a way he can't possibly explain. Weakening, too, but that won't last long: Cross will be back, and soon they'll ruin yet another world.
。。。
Cross absent-mindedly plays with the locket on his neck. It carries so much, reminds him of the path he's taken, with all good and all bad, all success and all mistakes, and the choices he's made, and how far he's come, despite everything. How far they've come — he's not alone anymore. Never will have to be. It also reminds him how there's a purpose in his pain – something he desperately needs to remember to stay as determined as he is. And when he's determined, he doesn’t need hope anymore.
。。。
Dream plays with the ring on his finger, thinking how he should get one for Cross. Maybe when he's not like this. Or maybe earlier, if Nightmare doesn't think of something soon. Dream is tired of waiting. There's just never the best time, every single time is wrong. Might as well just do it. The thought fills his with determination, not much different from Cross' own. With that, Dream doesn’t need hope. And being as weak to positivity as he is, that's all he could ever ask for — to not need hope. Cross has taught him this, and who knew it'd become not only convenient but crucial for survival. What a life they have.
。。。
What a life they have. Once again getting ready to crush a whole alternate universe with their own dreams — at that, it seems to be an easy one, a classic, dare Cross say. Would be enough to destroy the barrier, violent monsters and scared but strong humans will do the rest without their help. Dream'll get a whole lot of shattered positivity, even from such a dark world, the usual Fell one, — there are still kids and even some adults who love and hope and dream, it's not entirely rotten with misery and hate. Unlike some they stumbled onto.
。。。
Recollecting some of the nastier ones, Dream winces. He's never had the access to them before, simply couldn't get somewhere lacking any positivity, but now that he's able to, he gets to know just how bleak, cruel, woeful and just sinister the Multiverse can be. There really are worlds where there's nothing for him to shatter. It's unnerving to think about, even now, on the brink of death. Everyone deserves happiness, right?.. But everyone also deserves to live, and for that, they need balance. A universe destroyed means a universe created, a world racked with fear and hate means somewhere there is a world of prosperity and joy. That's how it works, Dream knows. That's also why he's not afraid to meddle — and surely he's meddling, has been since the beginning, just less than his brother. The universes exist without their help or any interference at all. They weren't even supposed to be here, as Nightmare found out; it's not even their Multiverse. Suits them right to be with those who don't exactly fit in as well, both Cross and Killer being neither monsters nor humans, and Killer with his wrecked mind, and Cross with his unstable, manic creator, one who just were never supposed to be in the same world with his creations; it's all so complicated... Ccino is the only person of some sort of norm among them, and even he is a mystery. Dream wishes he had some of his coffee; it'd remind him of Cross and Nightmare, warming him inside and out.
。。。
Cross would honestly kill for some of Ccino's coffee at this point. And maybe even a cat on his lap. Purrfection, preferably; he must admit, he's rather fond of his cat-self. More so than he is of himself, if he's being entirely honest... Cross is getting tired, restless. He's not a patient man; he's a fighter, not a clerk sorting through the files. But that's what he needs to fight later and as a good guard, he does what needs to be done. Even if it bores him half to death. They must be aware of where and when they put themselves into, what they should exploit and what they have to avoid. There's too much at stake to take any risks. There's Dream’s precious life at stake; and really, Cross' own as well. He doesn't know what he'd do with himself if he failed. So he won't fail. It's easy like that. They're not okay, probably won't ever be, at least not entirely; but that's alright. Maybe they've got a real bad hand, so what? They'll live with that. They just will. Everyone works hard to make it happen, Dream most of all, with Cross and — as much as it pains him to admit — Nightmare following suit. They're... a somewhat good team, even. Somehow.
。。。
They're a surprisingly good team. Not the best, but… As disconnected and disharmonised as Dream and Nightmare are, as complicated as Cross' relationship with both Nightmare and Killer is, they're doing well. It's… It seems almost possible that they can do it, sometimes. That Dream won't die sooner or later. And Dream's so afraid of dying. But what terrifies him more is his brother's fate — losing control, being merely an observer of the deeds of an entity none of them can quite comprehend. That helplessness just might kill him. Almost killed Nightmare, too, — and isn't that a terrifying thought to think. Dream does his best to shoo that kind of thoughts away, into the farther corners of his mind, but that never really works out. Denial is not the best way to solve one's problems, as easy as it might seem. It's just running away. Something Dream cannot possibly afford. He needs to be here, to stay present. Otherwise he's as good as lost. They don't want that. That can't allow that to happen. Too much is at stake. And Dream… Dream doesn’t want to die, regardless of the consequences. Simple like that. Natural even.
。。。
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47 заметок - опубликовано 10 марта 2022 г.
#4
X-tra Dark Cream & Dark Cream Week
Notes
It's short but pretty much finished, so here it is. Again, nothing much, and no spoilers for Turns, twists, and paradoxes either. Some self-reflection and a bit of much needed warmth.
。。。
In Control
Dream wanders around, his steps light and quiet, his thoughts loud and tangled. After all… 
It is Dream who hurts all those innocent people.
It is Dream who ruins lives and damages worlds beyond repair.
It is Dream who corrupts and twists and spreads hatred and fear and sometimes kills. 
It is Dream who does everything he's once sought to end or at least decrease. 
There's no excuse. An explanation, maybe, but who cares? Definitely not those he's left to rot in their hopeless universes, utterly broken by him.
He's not a good person anymore. Cannot afford to be, sure. It's a matter of survival, alright. There's a million reasons why, but not a single one and not all of them are enough to justify what he does. 
Once full of mercy, full of love, he'd now walk a million miles to see others' worlds on fire. Figuratively mostly, although sometimes that kind of disaster is indeed the best — as a distraction or on its own.
It kills Dream to not be the way he used to be. It kills him to go against his nature, slowly but surely changing. 
He's adapting, one might say. Maybe even Dream himself might say that. Because that's right. That's true. That's what he does. But is that enough? All he ever wanted was to be good, and for his brother and everyone to be happy. Funny how he failed so miserably. Although... might it ever work out? In the end? 
"Dream?" 
Oh. Cross is awake. Dream turns around, smiling despite himself at the sight of his slightly sleepy love. 
"I'm okay," he assures, first and foremost. As okay as can be, they both know. No need to clarify. 
Cross gives him a small, relieved smile. "Good." Rubs his eyes, stretches a little, yawns without a sound. So pretty and so… relaxed, almost; something they can barely afford these days; never could, and likely never will, not fully. It's a bittersweet sight, how this relaxation slowly seeps out of Cross' body and mind, replaced with concentration and resolve. That's what they need, but that's not what either of them would want. 
Not that anyone's ever asked for their opinion. They'll just have to make do. As pretty much always, but the situation has never been this dire. This… desperate. 
Dream lowers himself on his knees in front of Cross, stretches both hands to him, and just for a moment, nothing matters anymore. 
It's Dream who holds Cross' hand in his two, caressing gently, reverently almost.
It's Dream whom Cross is staring at, so very lovingly, so fondly it hurts a little. 
It's Dream who'll hug Nightmare the next time they meet, what feels like a fleeting touch that's never quite enough, no matter how long it lasts — and it can last longer than it could with anybody else, for Nightmare is a being of negative energy. Every second is precious, and Dream can't possibly get enough.
Dream’s in control. He'll do everything to make sure it stays that way. For everyone, and for himself most of all.
It's about time to learn to be selfish. If not on the brink of life and death, while by some miracle he's still the one in control, when else? 
。。。
Notes
There's actually a reference in this one! "Once full of mercy, full of love, he'd now walk a million miles to see others' worlds on fire" — this sentence is changed lyrics of the Undertale song RUINous by Go! Child:
Once full of mercy, full of love / You fear just what I have become / You know I'd walk a million miles / To set your world on fire
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51 заметка - опубликовано 12 марта 2022 г.
#3
Hello there! So. The 11th of October is my birthday. Congratulations are unnecessary, I don't celebrate; but what you can do is support me! If you're interested in any of my works, consider reading others! Here's some links to help you navigate in my projects.
A dream that comes crashing down (UTMV x Coraline — a book and a cartoon — crossover; part of the Ragdollsverse series)
Fragments of Shattered Dreams Hurt So Much (But You're the Only One I Need to Heal) (missed and extended scenes of Dark Cream comic by @zu-is-here)
Turns, Twists, and Paradoxes (X-tra Dark Cream story, an alternative ending/continuation of the very same Dark Cream comic) (with art by @zu-is-here and @yuriyuruandyuraart!)
Dreamtale_Not_Found (Aftermare (Geno/passive!Nightmare) slow-build story)
Each other's lifeline (Nightmare's story if the man's voice in the corrupted apples wasn't that bad)
I also have ao3 if you prefer to read there!
P. S. I have started a NOvember challenge, feel free to participate! It's never too late to take care of yourself, as a human and as a creator, so if you'd like, please say YES to NOvember! Like, reblog, create!
61 заметка - опубликовано 11 октября 2022 г.
#2
Each other's lifeline
Notes
Are you excited? I sure am! I love this series quite a lot, after all.
Do be careful, there're some self-esteem issues and self-deprecation here. One word: Nightmare. Doesn't need any explaining.
。。。
First steps
Nightmare vaguely remembers coming around a few more times, just for a few seconds at a time. He couldn't hear or see anything, and the darkness — or lack of any stimuli at all — didn't help him stay conscious, he supposes. That, and the kind person said something about him needing his sleep, saving strength?..
"Me? Kind? You're so messed up, kiddo, you've no idea…" they respond immediately, almost as if they waited for him to think something. Anything.
"I was," the voice confirms. "Not much to do without your consent. It's your body I possess after all. The negativity wants some action though, so not sure I'd be able to resist much longer. You're the warrior, not me."
The warrior?.. What are they talking about? It's just him. Weak, stupid, worthless him. He couldn't even do one job right. Now all's lost 'cause of him.
"Hey, none of that! From what I gathered from your memories, you're pretty amazing! You went through hell you didn't deserve yet never once stopped to even wish your tormentors harm. And you love your brother more than anything. It's admirable how loyal you are. You're definitely a much better person than I ever was. You are intelligent, too. It's not your fault that no one taught you to stay away from the golden apples. The previous guardian could've warned you two, at least. She's the adult, you two are mere kids who didn't know better. We don't even know if it's a lost cause yet; Dream got that last golden apple, after all. And the Multiverse hasn't collapsed yet, so that's good, am I right? Maybe the balance is upset, but we don't even know that for sure. It'll be okay, I'm sure we'll figure something out. You always do. You're smart like that."
Nightmare thinks he would've blushed if he could. Maybe cried, just a little; it's the kindest words he's ever heard not from his brother, after all. He has all the reasons to do just that.
You really think we could do it?..
"If not us then who?" they ask in return. "But first we should do something about the rampaging negativity. It's getting restless. You think I could go to a universe or two spread some fear and chaos?"
They really could just go and do whatever they want, now that Nightmare has no means to access his own body — or what's left of it, anyway. Instead they decide to stay and ask permission. To communicate. It's… exhilarating, somewhat. Nightmare's never been given the choice before. Even if it's not much of a choice this time — either he goes with the voice's plan or the negativity takes hold of the both of them, which is… less than desirable. Its mindless cruelty would destroy the last remnants of hope they have. No, they can't afford to lose control even for a moment. It's a team effort.
"Damn right it is! I won't let you down, kid. Promise."
It's so weird to share every thought with someone he barely knows… How does it even work? Nightmare can't hear their thoughts, after all. 
"No idea. Magic, I guess, and maybe something to do with me being the one in control. Maybe, if you were the one controlling the body, I would be the one with all my thoughts out in the open? Although I do hear you quite distantly, if you don't concentrate on getting the message to me. It's mostly background noise."
Good to know. It means if Nightmare ever gains control back, he likely wouldn't be too distracted by the voice. As great as their company is.
"Aw, I like you too, kid! And I'm rooting for you there. As nice as it is to have the ability to walk and talk back, it's your body, and you're very much alive to have it. To be honest, some part of me hoped you wouldn't make it after all; then I'd have a body of my own…" Anxiety and pain pierce through Nightmare's mind; do they really want him gone? "Stop that! Don't get me wrong, I just… it's hard being a tree after being a human, you know? And I'm really not all that kind. Or nice. Or… good in general. I'm a selfish piece of crap, you see?"
It feels like they want to continue that string of thought, but Nightmare doesn't let them. You helped me, he thinks in the smallest of voices. Possibly saved my life. So no. I don't see. 
They laugh; it's a light-hearted, warm kind. "You are obviously a sweetheart. How those jerks didn't see it is beyond me. They got what they deserved though. Now's your turn." 
What do you mean? 
"Freedom, of course! Not complete, you're stuck with the negativity for now, but… Even that's not so bad. We're strong now, you know? Can do whatever we want, as long as the negativity is satisfied. And we're about to find out what we need for that. So, am I to go cause some havoc? You in for a ride, kid?"
There's no going back, Nightmare thinks, as confidently as he can, might as well go forward. Let's do it. 
"Great! I don't have a certain plan yet, but I can feel the negativity from the worlds around ours so that's something. Probably might help with moving around?.. No idea yet. What do you think?" 
Hm. Let me think. 
The negativity of the other worlds, they say?.. Perhaps they could indeed use it. As a road, maybe? Or a beacon of sorts. Something that shows the way. It's amazing that they might be able to travel the worlds, especially considering Nightmare's never been far from the Tree, ever. The mere idea is fascinating, even though he wouldn't be able to see or hear anything. One day he would, and that's what he chooses to focus on. The future isn't all dark. There's something to look forward to.
I think you could try pulling the negativity. Not too hard, just enough for it to show itself for you to follow its path, Nightmare finally concludes. If that doesn't work, they'll just try something else. If only things always were this easy as they are with this person… 
"Worth trying at least. Let me just… oh." 
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61 заметка - опубликовано 17 июля 2022 г.
Мой пост №1 в 2022
Turns, Twists, and Paradoxes
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Bet you wanted to hear from Dream or, if he's still not available, Cross. Or Nightmare, wouldn't that be interesting? But alas, everyone's busy either having their world torn apart, or trying to help collect the pieces of said shattered world, or investigating! So, here, have Killer (and Ccino's cats) instead :3
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Chapter 2
The voice, Killer thinks, absent-mindedly petting one of Ccino's cats. How interesting. 
Killer knows voices. Killer's familiar with voices. Every time he makes a decision he hears them — the two devils sitting not on his shoulders but inside his head.
It’s all in his head. 
It’s just that boss said it like in their case the voice has its own consciousness. 
To be honest, Killer would like to say he's familiar with that as well. But it's foolish to deceive himself; Chara is but an embodiment of his own darkness. A part of himself, conveniently taken another form in his consciousness. 
After all, it's all in their heads. 
Purrincess, who lied quietly on Killer's lap and purred loudly just a moment ago, dodges his palm out of the blue, bites his finger — gently, not at all painfully; almost a «thank you» — and goes away. Doesn't stop purring though. Killer watches her go, and his soul is full of something resembling fondness; and when the cat disappears around the corner, he shrugs and gets up from the floor. Stretches till his bones crack. 
It seems he has to find something else to do. 
He doesn't want to go downstairs; there's Ccino, and he's working. Take-away only though: boss asked for silence as soon as they got back here. Not that it would stop Killer, it's more of an excuse than anything. If he admits the truth at least to himself, he simply doesn't know what to make of Ccino and how to behave around him. 
Their first meeting was… strange, to put it mildly. No more than what's happened not too long ago, a few hours at most. But strange. Boss didn't comment his choice in any way — he doesn't have to, but curiosity is Killer's weakness, — and Ccino merely asked what he can do despite his astonishment and fear, so apparent in his trembling voice and sockets wide open. Got them bandages and gave them sanctuary. 
Killer took a coach in the living room. He doesn't mind sharing if a cat — sometimes a few — would like to lie down there.
It turns out boss has his own room in this house — only half-habitable, since the first floor is a coffee shop. Apparently Ccino looks after it in boss' absence, carefully as possible — maintains order but doesn't touch personal possessions, as many of them as there are. Killer knows by experience that boss wouldn't accept anything less, as well as wouldn't leave his wherever. Killer's glanced at the bedroom itself once or twice and haven't seen anything of interest but the shelves cluttering the walls and full of various tomes. It'd be a ridiculous lie to tell Killer's not curious to know what part of boss' collection is relocated here — or what Ccino did to deserve such trust. 
Or, for example, why he's still (relatively) okay, even though he's obviously known Nightmare for a while and boss isn't known for his mercy. What kind of demons does this version of Sans have, so helpful and gentle, that it has attracted attention of the king of negativity himself? 
There's certainly something intriguing about this Ccino. Killer loves riddles, although he's not sure yet how to start solving this one. There's seemingly no rush — it looks like boss is here to stay, and Killer's by his side. Killer's going to follow Nightmare everywhere, as long as he's allowed. This choice has been made a long time ago. 
With a light, inaudible steps Killer exits the living room, goes downstairs and finally enters the backyard enclosed with a short wooden fence covered with ivy. 
Or whatever it is that creates this distinctive atmosphere of coziness and warmth, where anyone would belong. Feel at home. 
It’s been a long while since Killer has felt anything like this. He's not sure how to deal with it. 
He wonders if boss feels it too. But Killer wonders about Nightmare a lot and doesn't get many answers. He doesn't mind. There was a time when he had to pay a lot more than unsatisfied curiosity to stay by boss' side. And that didn't matter either. 
The sun warms but doesn't blind. There's a cat resting on the wide swing, Bar Cat — it's impossible not to recognise him among the other residents of this place — his short white fur, covered by smallest black spots that form patterns, wouldn't allow to mistake him for anyone else. Bar lies curled up in a ball, hiding his nose under a paw, so Killer can't see neither a spot on his cheek nor his ever-changing irises but he knows they are there nonetheless. 
Killer weightlessly comes closer, sits on the other half of the swing as carefully as possible; Bar Cat wiggles his ear but otherwise doesn't react, doesn't even open his eyes. A success in Killer's books. 
Suddenly Killer realises he's actually smiling — barely, not at all his usual grin, wide, laughing and not really sincere. He reaches out to Bar, puts his hand on his back but doesn't pet — Bar doesn't like it when they're petting him. Just holding him is okay though; here, he's purring through the drowsiness… Good. 
Maybe Killer has really lacked this kind of small, warm accomplishments. 
As if… as if Papyrus… 
No, Killer won't think about it. He refuses. There's a cat version of one of his — former? — enemies, and Bar Cat's not easy to approach or please, so Killer's just going to engoy his little win. No memories. 
None at all. 
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223 заметки - опубликовано 16 октября 2022 г.
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cartoon-buffoon · 1 month
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Late night ramble about my FAVORITE piece of media ever. Well at least a hyperfixation that has been prevalent as soon as I found out about it and it hasn't left my mind since. I would not call it my favorite as there's other stuff that gets really close (I hyperfixate on a lot of stuff) so I can't truly call anything my favorite. It does however contain my favorite character without a doubt which I adore despite the character's absolutely insanity although that's a topic for another day. Anywho- presenting the wonderfully dark comics made by one of my favorite artists: IN THE DARK!
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(WARNING: Potential spoilers for the In The Dark comics, I make comments here and there about certain things from them yet I try to leave a lot out in hopes to encourage people to check this out for themselves. Also this is a rant post so a lot of this is just me going off about this comic and why I love it↓)
Starting off these comics have a pretty cool storyline although it is only just these 4 issues out currently there will be more coming out in the future, these are all created by an indie creator named Comick (or Crystal Gonzalez yet I just refer to her as her online name). You possibly could of seen some of Comick's stuff before considering she did a Sonic series with a dog mobian OC and made a few flash animations back in the day, some of which were in Sonic Paradox. Her Fleetway/Scourge animation is actually the thumbnail for the 6th Sonic shorts volume from Sonic Paradox video as well.
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(Also real quick I absolutely LOVE how she draws Fleetway, look at him!)
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Anyways as I was saying- her genuine original creation is the comic "In The Dark" AND I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!!! It's a dark comedy taking place in hell with the main character, known as Fibble (the red haired human on the covers) trying to get the hell out yet bad luck seems to follow him where ever he goes. Trying to help Fibble is the demon of sin, Sin! He's the little white monster next to Fibble on the covers, Sin used to be the strongest demon yet after a fight with God his pieces were scattered and he was sent into the depths where he created hell and also created the other sins like Idolatry, Promiscuous, Gluttony, etc, in order to gain his darkness back. It's also stated dark matter itself or something similar is actually Sin's old body which is cool, he basically wants that in order so he can rematch god and send the world into darkness because well—he's the demon of sin.
After fighting god and losing and creating other sins Sin was beaten again, this time in a game. Satan beat him in a poker game to be exact leading him to lose all of his power shrinking down into the creature he is now. Real quick one thing I love is how when Sin ruled hell he stated it was absolute carnage which he favored yet Satan brought order being a fallen angel and having a sense of law, I actually really love this idea of Satan being this figure who actually appreciates structure yet still is inherently the prince of darkness and how it contrasts with Sin and his favor for chaos. With that little tangent outta the way: Sin also somehow ended up in debt/as a servant to a human, Fibble to be exact. To my knowledge I don't think we get lore on how Fibble ended up in control of Sin yet I may have missed something and my mind is going super fast right now so I can't think properly, yet it's a potential thing maybe explained more in the future comics. What we do know about the two's little relationship is the fact that Fibble can't control him? Sin doesn't obey Fibble and sometimes actively maims him however it's stated that the ONE thing Fibble can command Sin to do is make him strawberry milkshakes, it sounds stupid yet it's such a random thing I find funny. Sin also actively terrorizes Fibble as seen in the comics on Comick's DeviantArt, Sin can't get rid of Fibble so he decides to make Fibble's life actively awful.
This ties back into the comic, the main threat Sin has is Fibble being an unlucky dumbass and if Fibble dies so does Sin. If Sin dies sin itself dies thus the world will be on utopia and of course Sin can't have this so when Fibble finds himself in hell Sin has to go rescue him. That's basically the core plot yet there's so much I love about this series from the art style, character designs of some of the demons, the concepts and world building, and of course the humor. I wanna rant about my favorite character that originated from this comic, Skitzo, yet I'll save that for another day. I'd highly recommend reading the first comic which is on Comick's DA (she's known as Comickpro over there) for free (also a brief section of the second comic) and if you like it go buy the actual things. The comics are 10 bucks a pop on her online store and I reread these comics in order to appreciate the art and it always gets me excited for when the next issue will come out, whenever that may be. There's also a decent amount of satire and or social commentary located in the issues, like nothing that hasn't been done or said already in a probably better way yet there's some satirical stuff thrown in here and there. For example it makes jokes about like how modern society is structured with a favor towards consumerism in Idolatry's issue, and the relying dependence on small things like coffee in order for people to function normally in Gluttony's issue. The satire and commentary is not SUPER deep or anything and IMO pretty surface level yet it just pokes fun at things here and there with certain characters being introduced who are stereotypes of certain types of people. Don't worry though, these annoying stereotype characters are immediately killed off and they don't overstay their welcome and it won't try and beat you over the head with any sort of message. It just exists to tell a pretty cool story and get some laughs.
WARNING: I'm adding another warning BEFORE YOU CHECK AND OR BUY THESE COMICS because well—the comics are pretty dark as the name entails—it is a DARK comedy meaning it is not for everyone, it features some grotesque moments and lots of murder. It takes place in hell after all. Still it may not be everyone's cup of tea because of this which is fair, there's also some jokes which may not appeal to some. For instance there is a rape joke in the third issue however it personally didn't trigger me, it wasn't really funny to me however it didn't bother me in the way a lot of media tries to make jokes using SA, still some people may be off put by this fact alone. I wasn't affected by the joke and it's kinda just a single line that acknowledges how inherently fucked up Promiscuous is and her entire deal. I'd still give it a chance at least, there is some jokes that are REALLY good for example issue 4 which is the most recent is pretty damn funny and I found myself cackling while reading. I'd love if there were more people interested in this overall, I love dark media like this that actually has a purpose in trying to tell a giant over arching narrative rather than just edgy murder. Don't get me wrong the comics can still be labeled as "edgy" yet it does well to balance itself out with humor and light heartedness and overall doesn't take itself too seriously.
(please I need more people to get into this basically non existent fandom, I've ranted to my friends about these characters so fucking much and I love Fibble and Sin to death, I NEED MORE PEOPLE INTERESTED IN THIS I BEG OF THEE TO LOOK INTO THIS!)
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April 23rd 2024
Dear Diary,
So Shrunk might be the only exception to the “ we build everything in a day” rule. I went to main street today and there was no construction or nothing! I was really excited to see what he had planned but I guess I have to wait again. It was really kind of a let down. The fact that today was the first day that it's rained since I've been here only solidified the fact that it was a really sad day.
It wasn't all too bad though because I think I got a gold star in gardening because I have black roses! That's right, black roses. Everyone should marvel at my greatness. I'm just kidding though, I would be no where without Leif's help. I really wish we had a cafe or something because I would really like to sit down and talk to Leif more.
Since Clay has been busy hanging out with Ribbot, I haven't had much of anyone to talk to so Leif fills that void a bit. Chrissy is also opening up to me more since I have made it a point to talk to her so she never has to feel like she needs to leave the town again. I will make sure to have the best town so that no one ever feels that way again. Except maybe Sly.
I don't trust him and it's not because he's an alligator crocodile? Something. It's because I'm almost 100% confident that he is the one leaving pitfall seeds around town. I think he just wants me to fall into one but I will not be subjected to such ridiculous pranks! If he fell into one that I had buried though that would be kind of funny.
Oh! I forgot to mention that mom sent me a green bar shirt. She said she got one for herself and that I should wear it so that we can match. She also asked if I was too cool to wear it. I'm not though! As soon as I saw that mom sent it to me you know I had to wear it! Mom chooses out the best clothes for us to wear. She's so thoughtful. I often miss her but I'm super excited because Mother's day is coming up and I have a ticket to go see her! It feels like so far away but I know that it's just around the corner. I hope Isabelle will be able to handle everything while I'm gone, but maybe I should let her go see her mom instead because I am Mayor and it would be kind of rude to not let her see her family... I'll ask her when I go into Town hall tomorrow.
I know I haven't mentioned it, but I have been actively in town hall trying to clean up the paperwork that the previous mayor Tortimer left. I have not been successful. I know it seems like I'm being a lazy mayor but he had a lot of paper!!
Clay complemented my green bar shirt so I think I'm gonna make sure to wear it more often because like I said, mom has really good taste in fashion.
Speaking of fashion, I am worried that the Able sisters might not be the most reliable place to get clothes because I haven't been able to find anything nice in a while. Maybe I should try to do something to get them to upgrade their shop, but I feel like buying their stock might be the only way to do it and I'm worried because then what will I do with all the clothes....
Also, my turnips are only at 72 bells today. Not a very exciting amount...I feel like I wasted money buying those turnips now...
Oh it's getting late and I better do some research on the time paradoxes if I ever want to find Joan's secret.
TTYL
-Finn
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alantea87 · 2 months
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First newspaper purchase in over 10 years...
Wowsa, I didn't expect that using a Nokia flip phone would lead me to newspapers, lol. As I giggled at myself in M&S today buying this, I asked myself why tf am I even laughing? It's super normal to buy and read newspapers - like we did in pre-smartphone days. Normalising digital touchscreens have obviously made newspaper sales plummet over the past decade, which I think is quite sad. And the only people I see reading newspapers are those over the age of 30. These days, I think, being seen with a purchased newsaper (not the free ones given out at tube stations) is like an act of rebelion or protest against our obsessions with screens - you included iPad! I can't help but smile at those who clutch a newspaper while drinking a coffee on a London street (not literally, as I would have had the police called on me). All I think is: "Gosh darn it, go you! Defy those big tech companies! No cap!)
Gen Z's obsession with screens have enabled their unbiquitous use; they blend seemlessly throughout the fabric of modern life. Which in turn has created a deep-set reliance (both emotional and phsical). Though smartphones truly do have their place in society (rapid comms, mapping, safety, for certain types of employment etc), but I do forget that once you're neck-deep as a consumer in the attention-economy... the ones who truly benefit are tech companies making money from your micro-transactions or by exposing you to endless ads. This isn't new, but I always forget this and it makes me feel icky.
I miss... 1. The tangible nature of print media that you can read without fear of anyone grabbing it and running away (London smartphone mentality). 2. Being able to read a newspaper in sunlight without the need to turn up your screen brightness, or turn it down to save battery. 3. Reading detailed, well-researched stories/reports (as opposed to breaking-news with minimal facts). 4. Being able to stuff a newspaper in your tote bag and feel a bit old-fashioned sometimes. 5. Feeling offline.
This week's updates:
I've been using my Nokia 2660 Flip for three weeks, now
I can text much faster (with the aide of predictive text, which isn't perfect but always a nice compromise with not using my iPhone)
General anxiety continues to drop (I thought social media didn't really affect me negatively, but evidentally I am wrong)
I prefer writing (with bad grammer, sorry) over posting stories on Instagram - most people know that I am quite expressive/animated in person (and I enjoy face-to-face conversations much more)
I am reading more (Kindle) and listening to music most evenings to wind down (as opposed to doom-scrolling, as I literally can't)
Sleep is deeper and more consistent, less physical tension
My mind now wonders more, especially during times where I used to use an iPhone to entertain me/stop boredom. I have in fact embraced more moments of boredom and has allowed me to absorb my environment more and what is happening around me
YouTube is still social media (my brain has decided so), thus still overstimulating and kinda exhausting to use (choice paradox all over again) - avoding it most days
General focus has improved week-on-week. I am more deliberate with my entertainment options and I am fully engrossed without the sudden urge to check my phone (because my Nokia can only call and text, lol)
Planning on getting a Zach Bryan related tattoo, cos I am crazy and a fangirl. Maybe just the title of my favourite EP of his: 'Quiet, Heavy Dreams' on my inner left forearm. Some deep meaning for me there, too. But will discuss another time
Invisalign treatment will be complete by first week of July (just a few months to go!) After which I will recieve my retainers and will be sent away with full mouth-freedom. Queue the song: WAP by Cardi and Meghan #sideeye
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Speak soon.
Love, Alan. x
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selormohene · 9 months
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day 76 (sunday, september 17th 2023)
(Writing pretty late on Monday.)
So this September I'm only drinking water, milk, tea and coffee. I've done a lot of decaf. There's been a bunch of herbal tea and one plain sparkling water, but as far as I'm concerned that all still counts. I haven't done cocoa powder, and in principle that would have counted, but whatever, it's only a few days to go and I can have all the cocoa powder I want next month. I wasn't sure what to do for October but I think I've decided now. I'm going to shoot for a conversation with a random person every day. If I miss a day I'll just do two the next day. So maybe I'll try to do one for each day at a rough rate of one a day. For this challenge I'd prefer to focus on strangers on the street, mainly because my main thing is to get over not being able to compliment people on their glasses or strike up conversations with people who are around me, but depending on social events I might count some of those. We'll see.
I've noticed that I'm very hard on myself when I make mistakes. Like I realised that in the last couple of years one particular psychological issue that caused me a lot of distress was remembering moments in the past that make you cringe. Like that was constantly happening to me. It felt like a weird sort of OCD and I'm not sure what the ultimate cause was — we all have those little things that happen in our brains that show up as psychological phenomena, and who knows what their ultimate cause is, and I have no idea why that was mine. That's gone away for the most part, and I was working on modulating my reaction to those memories arising (although I don't know if the modulation helped reduce the intensity of the reactions or I was better able to modulate because they weren't so intense anymore due to resolutions of the underlying cause, and I also don't know why this in particular was what I was experiencing at all). But I realise that I still basically berate myself for missing things like deadlines, or forgetting things, not remembering to prepare completely optimally for the day ahead, etc. I'd like to work on improving that. I'm also in the dark as to where that came from. I can identify all sorts of potential causes, being lashed in school or whatever, but agian with all these identifications of childhood aetiological factors for one's weird behaviours and neuroses the question always remains of what it is about you and theway you're set up that these experiences affected you in the way they did while leaving others unscathed. Anyway.
Been thinking more about the "taking children seriously" stuff. It's really challenging me. I still don't agree with a lot of it, but at the same time I can definitely see a lot of value in the perspective as a limit case of the sort of approach which I do think is very meaningful when it comes to dealing with children. Part of the thing is that children have a sense of their own good, and to that extent a form of autonomy in the sense of self-legislation, but they don't have causal independence, their wills aren't as efficacious as those of adults. (And in particular, I want to say, unlike many adults whose inefficacy is that of first actuality which isn't exercised enough, that of kids is generally that of first potentiality which is yet to be converted into first actuality.) Plus part of the thing about being a kid is that your behaviour is partly the responsibility of the adults around you, so you are allowed to not have certain things all together because ultimately they're not left up to you. Part of what it would take to leave certain things up to kids is for them to take on the responsibility for the bad outcomes that might result, and of course most kids can't shoulder that responsibility and I really don't think we should want them to. (Again the paradox: it seems like this sort of libertarian fully democratic approach is saying give them all the autonomy but none or little of the responsibility. But you can't argue that on a priori grounds. As I mentioned earlier, recognising agency and assigning blame are two sides of the same coin.) At the same time I can understand why that might in some circumstances seem like a convenient pretext for arrogating control over what children can do to oneself, especially since parents often misuse or overextend their fiat and/or don't take enough responsibility for the bad outcomes of their decisions made by fiat. But we must distinguish between claims that lend themselves to misuse, even easily so, and inherently or universally unjust claims.
On not doing everything. It's often said that youc an't do everything. And that's true. And yet there are people who manage to do a lot of things. What's so special about them? I think there are a few things. First they're very well-integrated and energetic. They're not dragging themselves through life (which implies having fixed sleep and diet issues, at least to a point where they're not debilitating). But they're also socially well-integrated; they know whom to call on as far as certain things to do are concerned. They've been able to outsource a lot of the overhead involved in going out of the way to do something different — either to routine, or to system. Or perhaps they're just better at following the flow. (Like I was in SOS lol.) Anyway, I'd like to get to that stage, because I remember how much I used to pursue multiple hobbies as well as multiple intellectual pursuits. The key here is to ruthlessly remove everything that's not contributing to my life overall — mere distractions, time-wastes, and other such things. Only then can one really focus on what matters. Only once one stops saying "how we go do am" will there be room in one's life for "we go run am."
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maketrust · 2 years
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Shorter oxford english dictionary bit
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And then we received the Shorter Oxford English Dictionary in two volumes as an incentive for (re)joining the Folio Society. We have one set of the Compact Edition of the Oxford English Dictionary, a gift to John from me about 15 years ago, bought at Macleod’s Books in Vancouver, missing its case but a treasure. We have two sets of the dictionary in its larger incarnation, in two volumes. Food preserving, quilting (for there is one in the works for an event later this fall), even decoding a word and its origins in a 1964 edition of OED. Reading my dictionary this morning, I thought how glad I am to have a few old skills. Again.) The deer have already eaten all the low-growing crabapples but there are plenty in another tree for bears to return to, as they do every fall, and they’re welcome to the scabby fruit, though I hate it when they tear a branch in their eagerness to pick every apple. What was that? What was that? And then sink back, realizing it’s the squirrels. Still to come: spicy red pepper jelly (a family favourite with lamb), maybe rosehip jelly (because otherwise the squirrels station themselves by my second-story bedroom window and throw the hips to the ground below they’ve been throwing fir cones to the ground for a few weeks now, hitting the plywood covering the kindling pile so that we wake close to dawn to the sound of shots. There are jars of blackberry jam, gooseberry jam, jelly made with Himrod grapes given us by Harold Rhenisch and flavoured with rosemary and lime zest. And there are many jars of pickled beans, another distillation: tender beans, fresh dill snipped from its pot, garlic from the ropes of it still hanging in the woodshed, some salt, some vinegar, a handful of mustard seed, a small chili pepper tucked into each jar. That was the second batch of salsa verde. But what salsa! It tastes delicious and when I open a jar in winter, when I poach eggs (duck eggs if I’m lucky) in it and savour each aromatic mouthful on a corn tortilla, I’ll remember the paradox of the plenty cooked down into essence. That pile of tomatillos, the onions peeled and quartered, the pile of cilantro, the elegant long peppers from the planter on the upper deck, and a handful of fierce little peppers from my friend June - the heaps of vegetables reduced to a few jars of salsa. Yesterday 4 pounds of tomatillos were distilled into 6 jars of salsa verde. So this morning, looking at the pantry shelves, at the preserving I did this weekend, I thought of the word “distil”. There were still a few places on McKenzie where I could stop to visit with horses in those years. Maybe even the last day of August (though I know of course that there are still three weeks of summer left), as I nervously checked my textbook lists, my binders, the tires of my bicycle (for I cycled to the University of Victoria from Royal Oak in those days, up Quadra to McKenzie and along McKenzie to the campus). I bought it to celebrate my new vocation as a university student in the fall of 1973. I use my dictionary all the time, my 1964 fifth edition of the Concise Oxford Dictionary. Doctrine etc.) drive (volatile constituent) off or out by heat make (whisky, essence) by distillation undergo distillation. Trickle down come or give forth in drops, exude turn to vapour by heat, condense by cold, & recollect (liquid) extract essence of (plant etc., or fig.
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musclesandhammering · 3 years
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Every Single Issue I Have With S*lki (It’s Not Just The Selfcest)
Here goes. I threatened to post this a few days ago and never did, but I just saw a s*lki stan Twitter account claim that Loki caring about Sylvie more than the whole multiverse was a Good And Romantic thing and it pushed me over the fucking edge, so now you all have to read this. I’ve divided it into categories cause there’s just THAT much.
OOC Bullshit
• First and foremost, no amount of mental gymnastics you do will ever make me believe that this specific Loki- the one that just invaded New York, that just came off a year of Thanos Torture, that just got done being influenced by the sceptre, that was literally in the middle of a crisis already, and then on top of that went through all the trauma of Ep 1- would even be worried about a romantic relationship. That would be the furthest thing from his mind. Go back and watch how he acted in Avengers- you think that guy would abandon his previous mission to become a snivelling simp for a girl he’d just met 3 days prior? Yeah, there’s no universe in which that makes sense.
• “It’s very in character for Loki to fall in love with himself lololol-“ NO, it’s literally not. Out of all the characters in the mcu, I don’t think I can think of anyone that genuinely hates themselves more than Loki. He even referred to all his other male variants as “monsters” and said meeting them was “a nightmare” in this series. He’s got so much self-loathing, plus the fact that he genuinely thinks himself to be an evil backstabbing scourge- so there’s no evidence at all suggesting that he would ever develop a fondness for, or even be inclined to trust, another version of himself, after only knowing them for 3 days.
• Building on that, the whole concept of Loki falling in love with a version of himself just feeds into the annoying ass misconception that he’s a narcissist. No matter which way you stack it, he’s not. If you’re referring to NPD, he doesn’t fit the criteria, and if you’re saying “narcissist” just as a slang term meaning “selfish and arrogant”, that still doesn’t accurately describe him. But when creators like Waldron and Herron do things like having him fall in love with himself, it makes it so much easier for casual viewers to think that he is.
Shitty LGBT Rep
• It’s kinda sus that Loki’s are allegedly genderfluid and yet the only female-presenting variant we see (and apparently the only female-presenting variant there is, cause the male Loki’s all seemed unfamiliar with the concept) is treated as some kind of mind-bogglingly special paradox. Also very sus that, out of all the Loki variants, the one our Loki falls in love with just so happens to be the only female one. What a coincidence.
• The fact that the creators of the show went around bragging about Loki’s bisexuality and Marvel purposefully (lbr) allowed stories about Loki possibly having a male love interest to circulate, specifically enticing queer viewers to watch the show (you know, the definition of queerbaiting), and then instead of having a male love interest (Loki was the first queer main character, so it was the perfect opportunity) they gave us *gestures to this dumpster fire* this… it’s just a middle finger to LGBT fans. The fact that they would rather have this relationship with all its myriad of problems than have a gay relationship is just……. Very telling.
• While him being with a woman obviously doesn’t refute his bisexuality, the fact that they showed/talked about him being interested in 3 different women (flight attendant, Sylvie, Sif) and never even hinted at him being attracted to a man, definitely makes it seem like they were trying to cover up his bisexuality to smooth things over with the more homophobic viewers. You know? It’s like “I know you’re pissed that we sorta confirmed Loki as bi, so we promise we’ll never mention it again! Or even hint at it! As a matter of fact, we’ll give him lots of female lovies and make him seem as straight as possible! That’ll take your mind off of that horrible crumb of queer rep, right? Please please please keep giving us your money!!!”
• Aside from all the other issues, at its core, the biggest reason why I think I’m so irritated with s*lki is that it took one of the most interesting, complex, and diverse characters in cinema atm and squished him into a tired ass unnecessary heteronormative subplot…. Like literally every. single. other. protagonist. ever. Loki is such a unique character, and it’s so so so incredibly disappointing that they stuck him into that same boring cookie cutter romance that happens to every other character in every other movie I’ve ever seen. It’s a disservice, and it’s honestly just not compelling or entertaining at all.
Thematic Issues Galore
• His arc didn’t need a romance. With anyone. It was unnecessary and it didn’t make sense plot-wise. In fact, one of the reasons he was my fav prior to this was because he was the only big-name mcu character whose story wasn’t muddied-up by a romance that didn’t need to be there. So much for that.
• He wasn’t emotionally ready for a romantic relationship with anyone. Hell, just a genuine friendship would’ve been pushing it for him at this point. He was in such a bad state that any relationship he got into would’ve been toxic and unhealthy for both him and the other person, and it doesn’t make sense why the writers would want to put him in one when there were so many cons and essentially no pros (other than “Uwu aren’t they cute together”).
• Sylvie’s character in general was unnecessary and Loki’s character was robbed just by her being there. The whole show became about her post-Ep 2. They spent most of the time giving her backstory, building her up, telling us how awesome she is, trying to convince us to like her, etc when what they really needed to be doing was building Loki up- cause I gotta say, if I had to describe TVA!Loki in a few words, they would be Flat, Boring, and Weak.
• The romance overtakes the plot. They spend time portraying their supposed connection that could’ve been spent adding depth and complexity to literally any of the characters. They make the big Nexus Event them giving each other googly eyes on Lamentis when it could’ve been so many other way more profound things that speak to the fundamental nature of Loki’s. They have the climax of the finale be “oh no she betrayed him to kill He Who Remains” when it could’ve been something way more compelling (Loki having a moral crisis over whether or not to kill HWR, Loki contemplating the state of the multiverse and weighing the pros and cons of freedom vs order, Loki looking into some What If situations and getting emotional about what could’ve been regarding his family, Loki realising the gravity of HWR’s offer and finally coming to terms with how important he is to the universal cycle, etc etc). The entire plot suffered in favour of a romance that half of us didn’t even want.
• It essentially reduced all of Loki’s potential character growth down to “He did it for his crush.” He seemed to at least have some motivations of his own in Ep 1-2 (feeble as they were) but after Sylvie showed up in Ep 3, literally every action he took was just him being a simp for her. Why did he lie in the interrogation? To try to protect Sylvie. Why did he fight the minutemen and Timekeepers? To survive kinda, but mostly cause it was important to Sylvie. Why did he get pruned? Cause he got distracted trying to confess his crush to Sylvie. Why did he try to get out of The Void? Cause he thought Sylvie needed him. Why did he stay in The Void? Cause Sylvie was staying. Why did he try to enchant Alioth? Cause Sylvie told him to. Why did the multiverse get cracked open, leading to an infinite number of Kangs waging war on all of existence? Cause Loki didn’t wanna hurt Sylvie in their fight at the Citadel and then get distracted by her kissing him. It’s uninteresting and honestly pretty embarrassing.
• Throughout their “relationship arc” the writers do their absolute damndest to convince us that we should like Sylvie more than Loki. And you know what? It’s the most hypocritical shit I’ve ever seen. They preach and preach about how Sylvie’s life has been so difficult/we should feel bad for her/she had it so bad/poor poor sylvie/she had it SO much worse than pampered prince Loki…. But then they never even touch on any of Loki’s trauma of hardships (the ones that have been ignored for literally 3 movies now). They frame Sylvie as a good person and a Freedom Fighter after she spent literal decades/centuries mass-murdering brainwashed TVA agents and showing exactly zero remorse for it….. but then they make it their mission to constantly remind us that Loki is a terrible person and constantly put him in situations where he’s forced to acknowledge his wrongdoings/show remorse/admit to how “evil” he is for being a mass murderer for like 2 years. They show him on-screen having a wider range of powers than her, and perpetuate his whole shtick of being a “master manipulator” or whatever….. But then they make Sylvie “the brawn” more competent, intelligent, and physically capable than him. Tell me how it’s a good thing for a ship to be so narratively biased toward one character.
Missed Opportunities
• If they absolutely had to have a romance subplot, then they could’ve paired Loki with one of the characters that have already been established OR one of the characters that were a big part of the whole TVA storyline anyway. It would’ve been so interesting if they’d revealed that Loki had a history with some of the players from previous films (Sif and Fandral both come to mind). It also would’ve been really interesting if they’d given Loki a love interest that actually had some allegiance to the TVA as a whole (Mobius maybe, but not necessarily. It also could’ve been Renslayer or B-15). Hell, imo it would’ve been cool if they’d followed through with that “See you again someday” line that he said to the flight attendant in Ep 1. ALL of these characters have way more chemistry with him than Sylvie, and they were also already relevant to the plot without wasting half the show to give background info on them.
• If they absolutely had to have a hetero-presenting love story involving an enchantress-type figure, then there’s a whole Enchantress (Amora) that was actually Loki’s love interest in the comics. Plus, fans have been screaming for Amora to appear in the mcu for years. Plus, Tom literally pitched an Amora/Loki storyline way back in 2012-13. Also, Lorelei (another enchantress) is also one of Loki’s love interests in the comics, and she already exists in the mcu (she was on Agents of SHIELD). There were several different established characters for them to choose from. Creating a whole knew amalgamation of a character and going with the “she’s a Loki variant” storyline was just completely unnecessary and made no sense.
• They completely robbed us of a Chaos Twins dynamic. Had they handled Sylvie better and not forced her and Loki to smooch, the two of them could’ve had a really really complex and interesting sibling relationship. Loki could’ve stepped into Thor’s shoes and sort of used that new role to gain some self importance, and Sylvie could’ve finally had somebody to look out for her/teach her magic/be there for her. It would’ve been very aesthetically pleasing, the vibes would’ve been out of this world, it would’ve been way more profound than this bs, and frankly it would’ve been much more entertaining to watch.
• Loki’s relationship (read: obsession) with Sylvie completely overshadows all Loki’s other relationships in the show. Loki and Mobius were literally the focal point of the series in Ep 1-2, but after Sylvie showed up in Ep 3, they barely had any interactions with each other, and Mobius pretty much faded to the background entirely. Loki had the beginnings of a pretty interesting antagonistic relationship with Renslayer (with her wanting him pruned, then arguing with Mobius that he couldn’t be trusted), but after Sylvie showed up the dynamic shifted to focus on the history between her and Ravonna. Loki and B-15 started off very badly and openly disliked each other throughout Ep 1-2, and then in the end of Ep 2, Loki showed a little bit of concern for her when she was possessed, hinting that they might be inching toward a reconciliation- especially considering how obvious it was that Loki was gonna uncover the TVA’s sins eventually. There was so much potential for him to be the one to give her her memories back and convince her to change sides, but no, of course that honor went to Sylvie. In fact, after Sylvie showed up, Loki and B-15 never even spoke to each other again.
Various S*lki Fails
• If they were trying to convince us that this affection was mutual, they completely failed. There’s nothing I’ve seen that even hints at Sylvie feeling the same way about Loki that he does about her. At most, I’d say she has a slight endearment to him. She finds him likeable and she’s grudgingly fond of him, but she definitely isn’t in love with the guy. Maybe she thinks he’s cute and hopes that he gets out of this mess alright, but her mission obviously comes before him- whereas, it’s been confirmed multiple times that Loki cares about her above anything else. She doesn’t trust him, she looks at him like he’s an incompetent fool half the time, she shows little to no reaction during most of his confession moments, and she kissed him as a means to distract him so that she could get him out of her way. Look, all I’m saying is, when you get into a relationship where one of you is way more invested than the other, it never ends well.
• This goes without saying for a lot of us, but the selfcest is just straight up odd and cringey. If you’re cool with that sort of thing, fine! People can ship what they want! But don’t pretend it’s not at least a little bit uncomfortable. Yes, I know they’re not technically siblings so it’s not technically incest, and they’re also not technically the exact same person, but they’re similar enough that it makes things weird. And yes I know selfcest can’t happen in real life, so there’s no way to judge it morally, but neither can most of the other stuff that happens in these shows/movies (the Snap, Loki destroying jotunheim, superhero with powers being held accountable, mind control) and yet we still find ways to judge their morality, because they all mirror real-world events. (The snap= genocide; Loki destroying Jotunheim= bombing other countries; superhero accountability= weapons accountability; mind control= grooming and coercion). And lbr the closest real-world mirror to two versions of the same person (who may or may not share DNA, family, backgrounds, physical and emotion characteristics) being romantically involved with one another is incest. And you can be ok with that if you want- that’s your prerogative- but don’t get pissy just cause a lot of us are squicked out by it.
• The whole mirror metaphor (learning self love via each other) thing just fell completely flat. First of all, having Loki learn to love himself by looking at someone who mirrors him did not, in any way shape or form, require them to be romantically involved. But they were. Of course. Secondly, the creators have contradicted themselves so many times on whether Loki and Sylvie are the same or not, that it doesn’t even really register to the viewer that the mirroring thing was what they were going for. Finally, Loki and Sylvie are shown to have so little in common- and to have only the most bare minimum of similarities personality-wise- that it doesn’t even make sense that Loki would “learn to love himself through loving her”. Like? They’re nothing alike. So how would he make the connection that he himself is actually pretty cool, based on her alone? There’s virtually nothing in her that reflects him.
• I know the objective of the entire show was to convince us of how awesome and unique Sylvie is, but honestly her relationship with Loki just did the opposite. A hallmark of a Mary Sue is having her constantly upstage the male lead, and then having him instantly fall madly in love with her anyway. And that’s.. exactly what happened here. Everything they’re doing to try to force her character to be more stan-able is really just forcing her to look more like their self-insert OC. Which is exactly what she is. It would’ve been so much more satisfying if she didn’t have to try so hard to look cool, if they didn’t have to try so hard to make her backstory tear-inducing, if they didn’t have to turn our protagonist into a snivelling simp just to prove how incredible she supposedly is. Very much #GirlBoss energy and we all know how performative and cheap that is.
• The entire thing was too rushed, there was too little build-up, and it was nowhere near believable. As stated above, it’s ridiculously unlikely that Loki would canonically even be interested in Sylvie, and this show did nothing to explain why he was. He just suddenly was. There was nothing they showed us as viewers that would justify a guy as closed-off and preoccupied as Loki falling head-over-heels for a girl he just met. Their was no explanation, no big revelation, no reasoning, it just… kinda happened. And I’m also severely skeptical of any love story that has the characters go in this deep after only 3 45-minute episodes of exposition.
I’m sure there’s other stuff, so if anyone thinks of anything, let me know and I’ll be more than happy to add it. Tagging @janetsnakehole02 @raifenlf @natures-marvel and @brightredsunset800 for expressing interest. This is all your faults.
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