#because its not an easy black and white game of whats good and bad and painting mary as wholly innocent and james as wholly evil

[wanderingmoonmen]

Today's the day... everyone got their clown costume and drinks ready?

#silent hill #konami #i know we've all landed on they are definitely remaking sh2 and it makes me sad #i dont want to see them massacre the game or massacre my boy #dont split it into two parts dont make it longer #its fine how it is #also we do not need to bring the game into the masses now or there will be yelling about how problematic the game is #because its not an easy black and white game of whats good and bad and painting mary as wholly innocent and james as wholly evil #its not the fucking point #and if they make james sexy i will riot #its about the square face and big nose and average looking fucking guy #fuck dude #im trying to work but im just so anxious for this because i love this game and story so much and i dont want to see it ruined #silent hill 2 #james sunderland #Youtube

[zgvlt]

each of your fingers like rays of the sun leona kingscholar x reader

summary: in which you like to hold and to be held by leona's hand, a lot (not like he's not in the same boat)

tags: gender neutral reader, sfw, fluff/romance, established relationship, 4k+ words, not beta read

author’s note (see end notes for more): The fourth fic to my five senses series

you can also read this on AO3

I.

The day was concluding and yet the date was merely reaching its beginning, Leona rising with the setting sun. 

He had slept the afternoon away, not having anything urgent to do, not when his calculations dictated he still had some absences left before it would become a real problem. As for his location, he had taken to sleeping in his room as opposed to his other favored locations—only a strategic choice, chosen based on the demands you had made of him earlier.

His choice was correct, as expected, for now there was no need to leave his room to find you and no need for you to do the same, not when you strolled into his room, as you have many times before (but not as of late, to his disdain). It was as though his becoming yours meant not only his heart but his room would become yours as well.

He would be a hypocrite to complain about such a thing, but he cared too little for becoming a good person now.

“Don’t make so much noise,” he complained half-heartedly, not bothering to pretend that he had not just woken up. He was sure you could tell anyway, your stifled laughter as you watched him yawn, your own attempts at scritching the back of his neck and ears. With his good mood, he supposed he would allow it. 

“Looks like you’ve already set it up,” you said, glancing at his desk, the table turned to face his bed, and with misfortune you took to sitting on the chair than with him on the bed. “Should I play white or black?”

“White is already facing you,” and for a few other reasons he would rather not tell you, things you really had no need to know, “so you should just play that.”

“Okay,” and although you haven't started the game yet, your fingers hover over the chessmen, stopping over a particular pawn that Leona thinks you intend to move first.

“I’m surprised you even want to play chess,” Leona said, finally sitting up properly to face his side of the board, “I didn’t think you knew how to play… Do you know how to play?”

It’s nothing against you; he would have accepted your offer to play with him even if you didn’t, but it surprises him (pleasantly) that you might. Sure, he’s seen you watch him go against his dorm members, but other than that he wasn’t really sure if it was because you were interested in the game or if it was because you were interested in him.

“I watched a bunch of videos!” you said, defending yourself, “I’m not going to be a grandmaster anytime soon, but I know what the chess pieces and pawns are and what they do and, you know, enough basics to play.”

Leona grins at the distinction. Look at you, doing your research—you might actually stand a chance against him.

“Then I don’t have to go easy on you,” he replied, before adding a little lie, “not that I had any intention of doing so in the first place.”

Your opening move is standard. You don’t do something stupid or overly advanced by moving the pawns at the edges of the row, even though he would have liked to see a strategy involving either or. You go for a popular but beginner-friendly opening: the Queen’s Pawn to d4. It’s aggressive in a sense, a way to dissuade him from moving the king’s or queen’s pawn for his opening… or perhaps you wanted him to take the risk. 

He looked up to meet your eyes, and he didn’t have to look any further down to know that you were smiling. 

Cute, but it’s really too bad that he has no intentions of falling for your bait.

“Knight to your f6,” he mumbled, more for you to hear than himself. Leona’s not particularly chatty when playing, most people don’t have the capacity to do so when they’re too busy thinking five moves ahead, but he doesn’t want you to be too tense. If you wanted to talk about, well, anything really, you should do it. This was a date after all, impromptu it may be, not a competition.

“I wanted you to move–”

“Yeah, and that’s exactly why I didn’t move there,” Leona said with a drawl, watching the tips of your fingers touch each and every pawn, clearly contemplating what to move next. Usually you had to move whichever piece or pawn you touched first and with anyone else he might have used the rule to his advantage, but he instead waits for you to decide patiently. 

If the consequence was having a game run slower than normal, was it really a consequence at all if it meant you stuck around a little longer?

“Pawn to… c4?”

“You don’t have to say it out loud,” Leona informed you, “but that’s a good move.”

Because it was a good move—probably your original plan anyway, if he had made the move you wanted him to. Regardless, you were able to strengthen your control of the center.

You smile at the praise and Leona tries not to smile back, distracting himself by moving a pawn to g6, right beside the knight.

Your next few moves don’t matter too much in the grand scheme of things—all he needs is to fianchetto his bishop, something you can’t really stop no matter what you do—but he does think it’s amusing that you end up mirroring his moves, clearly unsure of how to move when he’s too focused on defending than attacking you at the moment.

With two squares cleared out, he moves the rook and the king.

“I don’t think you’d cheat in chess, so what even was that?” you asked.

“Huh. Looks like you haven’t made it to the video about castling yet,” Leona quipped, but before you could complain he stood up, making his way to stand behind you. He doesn’t think he makes for a very good teacher, more of an instructor than anything, but he’ll try… only because you’re expecting him to, clearly wanting to replicate whatever it was he did.

“I’m sure you know that the most important piece in the game is the king.” With his index, he pointed to White’s king, and with his remaining fingers, he temporarily set aside the bishop to its right. “I’m sure you saw how I purposefully cleared these two squares—it’s because you need this particular rook for this.”

Without talking about it, the both of you quickly look around, not bothering to hide your sighs of relief when a chess piece named man fails to appear before your eyes. 

“Because the king is the most important piece, it has to be well protected, defended. That’s where the rook comes in—a rook is basically a castle, which is what the move is called, so the king is pretty much hiding behind a bunch of walls to defend itself.

“When you make sure the king is defended throughout the game, the less chances of it falling into any traps or getting cornered… or you’ll at least have other pieces in convenient positions to attack if needed.”

“Castle to protect the king,” you muttered to yourself, sliding the two pieces together, “like this?”

“No.” Placing a hand over yours—the hand holding onto your king—he nudges the rook out of the way, effectively swapping their positions. “Like this. They don’t just move to the right and left, they have to swap as well.”

Leona hadn’t thought much of his clasping your hand—he’s not shy with giving you the physical attention  you want—but your words thereafter do affect him, a fluster that takes him a little longer than usual to push down.

“I get it now! Thanks to you, my king definitely won’t fall too fast now,” and then, for extra measure, you let out a laugh. It’s hyena-like and Leona wonders if he’s left you alone with Ruggie one too many times, if his assistant’s been telling you one too many things.

He lets go of your hand with a click of his tongue, returning your pieces to their old positions. Here he is, teaching you how to play better so you could increase your chances of winning against him, but here you are making a joke out of him.

Still, he huffs in amusement when you move the bishop, then the rook, and then the pads of your fingers meet the king once again.

II

Sometimes Leona thinks he indulges you a bit too much—well, it’s less think and more know, but since he can’t be any more self-aware than he already is, he mostly just lets you do as you please.

That was how it was before you started dating, after all—him hardly reciprocating your actions, teasing retorts at most as his heart banged against his chest and hurt his ears. You and all your neon signs pointing that yes, you were attracted to him, and him finally having enough of you embarrassing yourself (and him), leading to him deciding that if you were going to keep that up without saying anything, then you wouldn’t have any objections if he asked you out himself. He remembers more than just your happiness—he remembers the pride you could barely contain at having him do the asking, as if it was an achievement.

Still, you can’t just expect to get away with everything. You should’ve recognized the inevitability of him biting back; he would argue that you preferred when he did. It wasn’t just that you thought it was fun when he did do so, the lazy lion getting up to do something, but more so you liked the idea that he could actually take initiative to do something for himself as opposed to simply having it handed to him.

These days, it’s you making yourself into his personal alarm clock. 

Leona’s quit skipping every class he could. He’s not against graduating, believe it or not, and it definitely helps that he genuinely wants to see the Afterglow Savannah improve and that taking up an internship is a prime opportunity to start getting work done. It also helps that he has someone (sometwo if you count Ruggie, but he’s not very effective so he chooses not to)  constantly pushing him to attend his classes.

Still, he’d prefer to not go to each and every one. Some classes, in his opinion, are just downright repetitive, if not pointless, things he already knows being taught to him again. Skipping those seemed valid to him, but it seemed it was not to you.

“Come on, kitty,” you kept his hand in a tight grip, dragging him along the hallway. It was empty considering everybody was already in class, and while it would have embarrassed most people, Leona was just glad nobody would be present to eavesdrop. “You’re late to class.”

“We’re late to class,” Leona countered, “did you forget that you have class, too? On an entirely different building?”

“Okay, whose fault is that?” you huffed, “You’re the one who kept me asleep!”

“But you were sleeping so soundly, weren’t you? What kind of guy would I be if I were to wake my partner up?”

“You would be a gentleman who saved my attendance record, that’s what. Professor Crewel is gonna kill me one of these days,” you muttered to yourself, “or Professor Trein, or maybe even the headmaster himself.”

“You’re exaggerating,” he said with a shred of a laugh, “it’s not like they don’t know I’m to blame.”

You stopped in your tracks to look at him. 

“No way is our relationship so widespread that the faculty knows about it.”

“Even my family knows, so obviously the faculty does, too. Just because they’re adults doesn’t mean they’re above gossiping,” Leona said, grumbling as though sorely disappointed with the older generation, “not even Trein. He’s a history professor, which means he’s just better at separating fact from fiction.”

“And the facts are?”

Leona snorted, lifting your enclosed hands and waving them around. “The facts are clear as day. I wouldn’t just be allowing you to hold my hand willy-nilly like this if there wasn’t anything between us, much less allow myself to be dragged to class like this when I could be taking a perfectly good nap.”

“Go take a nap in class, then,” you retorted, “the important thing is that you attend, not that you pay attention.”

“Huh, wonder who taught you to be such a bad influence?” he asked, trailing off the end of his rhetorical question with  yawn. “Well, if you’re gonna be a bad influence, what’s stopping you from going all the way with it?”

“What are you planning?”

“I was just thinking that I felt bad for always making you late to your classes,” he drawled. His classroom was a few steps away, but with you having relinquished most of the pressure on his hand, he decided it was his turn to take control of which path to take; that path was away from the main building and heading towards one of his favorite areas on campus—the botanical gardens. “Not only should I bring you there, but I should apologize to Professor Crewel for taking up so much of a precious student’s time.”

“Do you have a death wish? My classmates will never let me hear the end of it!” you whined, “If you want to sleep in the greenhouse, you should have just said so. Don’t drag me into it.”

You could protest a little more if you wanted, make him stop his tracks and leave you to walk back on your own, but you simply complained about how unfair he was being. Leona thinks it has to do with his hands—well, hand—still intertwined with yours, the fact that he’s the one doing the holding this time around. Perhaps you’re letting it happen so you can spend a little more time with him. He’s the same, after all, the reason he’s awake and doing this much.

“Then let’s take a nap in the greenhouse next time. That way, you’ll be able to wake up for your class in time. You’ll even have the professor serve as your alarm clock,” he chuckled, even as you threatened to leave him behind. He knows you won’t, because your grip is just as tight despite it, only loosening—with hesitance, a fact that makes his heart swell just the smallest bit—when no more detours can be done.

“I’ll see you later.” 

Leona shook his head. 

“No, I’ll pick you up.”

Leona’s never seen himself as a particularly domestic partner, but you smile at him and he thinks he might have to do this walking you to class thing more often. He can lose a few minutes of sleep for that.

III

“I learned something recently,” you began, “about palm reading, and finger lengths, and all of that. From Cater.”

“Yeah?” Leona asked, indulging you. “Show me.”

He knew where this was going, having recognized a pattern in your behavior as of late. He was not opposed to it—he’s an enabler of most of your antics, admittedly—but he does want to see what kind of tactic you’d initiate this time.

“Apparently our hands hold meanings too.” He’s still resting his head on your lap without any intention of leaving, but he adjusted his arms so you could take hold of his hands more easily. “I don’t know if I believe it entirely, but considering we use them so often throughout our life,  I guess it makes sense… Also, it just seemed fun to learn about.”

One of your fingers went to trace the sides of his, moving along the tips and gaps in between. “For example, if your index finger is longer than your ring finger, you’re probably a confident, natural leader. Someone calculative and analytical. A risk taker, someone who prefers others to take the initiative but happily takes the spoils, and–”

“Are you sure you talked to Cater and you’re not just making this up?” he accused half-heartedly, “Maybe you’re cherry-picking things you’ll think suit me.”

“–and someone who likes their solitude, dislikes it when their time alone is disturbed.”

“Never mind. It doesn’t fit me after all,” claimed Leona, “I allow you to interrupt my alone time all the time.”

“Hello? Like you don’t enjoy my presence. I’m joining it, not interrupting it,” you argued back, “in any case, let’s say the ring is the longer one of the two.”

Your finger stilled against the aforementioned finger, before tracing an imaginary ring around the digit. 

“It’s said that people with longer ring fingers are seen as more… ugh,” you sighed, as though reluctant to admit something, “ , they’re more attractive.”

“Oh?” He grinned, looking away from your hands to stare right at your face. You wouldn’t look at him properly, so he tugged at your fingers to catch your attention. “So I’m attractive? More attractive than most people you’ve seen?”

“Charming too, clearly,” you sighed as you rolled your eyes, though Leona noticed that it was not exactly a no, “which is another trait of people with longer ring fingers… I guess both descriptions work out for you, so it doesn’t actually matter which one has a few extra centimeters.”

“What about the palm lines then?” he asked, “Fortune telling isn’t really my style, the idea of placing all my bets on some kind of  fate ain’t really all that appealing to me, but I’ll hear you out.”

“Oh, um…” You grasp a hand, and then two, and just… stare at them, following the lines with your fingertips. “I already forgot.”

“Heh, you forgot? Really, if you wanted to hold my hand that bad you could just ask, it’s not like I’d ever say no to you,” Leona teased, baring his teeth as he grinned. “Have I ever said no to you?”

“No?” you answered, “I mean, that’s not why…! Okay, I really did want to try reading your palms, but Cater and I only talked for maybe twenty minutes max? I only remember, like,  the heart line.”

“Then read that. What’s the issue?”

You went silent, suddenly shutting your mouth. If it was anyone else, Leona would have thought they were embarrassed—it was something to do with romance after all and, well, that was a topic that flustered many. However, because it was you, it was difficult to say it was because you would feel embarrassment—you do lots of embarrassing things around him, after all. The truth behind your hesitation was…

“Well,” you began, fingers pointing to the long line stretched across his hand, “this is your love line. Based on the length, it would mean… Leona?”

You trailed off as Leona shut his palm, trapping your finger within the warmth of his hand. 

“I don’t need to hear it after all. I already know the answer, anyway.”

IV

Leona thinks (knows) he spoils you, but he thinks you spoil him just as much, to the point that he finds himself wondering if his existence is enough to warrant such treatment. After all, days like today he knows he hasn’t done anything particularly nice or special, and yet it feels as though he has with the way you hold onto him (or the way he allows himself to be held instead of holding).

“Give me your hand.” These days you don’t ask (though you still play tricks to retrieve your treat). What you do more often is demand, demand in the way royals like him do, because you know you can do so with him by your side, with him.

“Going to read my palms again?” he joked, already handing his hands over as an offering.

“Maybe some other time,” you said, “I was just thinking… your hands are kind of rough, aren’t they?”

“If I were a typical prince, I would’ve been offended,” he commented. Sure, he kept himself groomed—he’s still a part of a royal family, lowly a member as he is, so personality aside he’d rather not have people point out anything off with his looks too—but things such as keeping his hands moisturized just weren’t in his list of priorities.

“I don’t mind it like this.” He hadn’t asked, but he did wonder. Perhaps you knew that. “I wouldn’t have minded one way or the other, but I do like the roughness. It… suits you, I guess?”

Leona laughed, “Because I’m not a gentle person, huh?”

“Because it shows me that you’re someone who’s always worked hard,” you explained, “no matter what anyone says, I think this much is proof that the person you are now isn’t just because you were lucky to be born like that. Lazy and effort-averse as you may be at times, things like this prove that you, too, worked hard to achieve the strength and intelligence you have.”

He really doesn’t think he’s done anything to deserve the way you treat him, and it’s on days like today that he remembers what he loves most about you. It’s not just that you’re fun, that you’re amusing, that you’re cute—it’s because you are one of the few who can see past his pride and his arrogance, his imperious attitude; it’s because you care for him so easily in the ways he finds himself too prideful to imitate, fumbling the words spoken by his heart.

“Shut up,” he mumbled, terribly enamored of the way you bring your lips up to the knuckles of his fist. Those hands are not clean, have been used in fights for better or for worse, hands capable of destruction with some few choice chants, yet you kiss them as though they were innocent. “Seriously.”

“Of course, my prince.” You laughed even as his fingers stretched to cover your mouth, and like the sun peeking from the clouds your grin remained present and bright.

V

“Just two moves…” you muttered to yourself, “I can’t believe I fell for that! Or, you know, did that, since it was my fault. I literally read about this pattern on some chess website.”

“That’s what you get for experimenting without care,” Leona said, shaking his head as he returned the pawns and queen back to their positions. “Never thought I’d see someone use f3 as a first move, easily the worst opening you could do, followed by g4 which is the worst follow-up you could do. Guess there’s really a first time for everything—I finally got to play a Fool’s Mate against someone for once.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m glad you had your fun,” you grumbled. Malice wasn’t present, but he could tell you did want to win at least one match this time around. Maybe he would help out with that, though not without seeing what you could do, first.

“Then try some other opening or pattern,” he told you, “looks like you actually know more this time around.”

“Of course I did. I didn’t want to look foo–okay, never mind.” You grabbed hold of a pawn, twirling it around between your fingers. “Let’s go again.”

“Think you’re going to win this time?” he asked. It had come off as a tease, a way to rile you up, but the reality was that he was genuinely curious if you had a strategy you wanted to try and pull off.

“Maybe. Just indulge me this time, okay?”

Then you move the pawn in front of the king two squares forward. King’s Pawn Opening. Not bad, especially since you could control the center if you choose your moves right. It’s the next move, however, the one you pull right after he mirrored yours, that caused your plan to immediately click in his brain. 

“Bishop to c4. You think you’re funny, do you?”

“Are you going to go along with it?

“I’ll show you.” Which, for Leona, was another way of saying of course. You were you, and with a message so charming, who was he to deny you, the both of you, of fun? “Knight to c6. Truly a first time for everything—never would I have thought I’d lose a game on purpose.”

“Queen to h5.”

“Knight to f6.”

“Queen to f7.” You grinned gleefully. He supposed losing was worth it after all. “Scholar’s mate.”

end notes | masterlist of all my works | series masterlist my other leona fics [ 1 ] [ 2 ]

[1] Title. The title can be in both Leona and the reader's perspective. If you liken Leona to the sun, then wouldn’t his fingers be the rays of warmth? And for Leona, since he comes from Afterglow Savannah, I think it means a lot for him to compare the reader to the sun, and though he’s already used to the warmth, he finds himself craving the one coming from the reader.

[2] Pieces vs Pawns. Many people do use “pieces” (or some other term in their respective language) as a catch-all term, but really pawns and pieces are different, with chessmen being the appropriate term for both pawns and pieces (in English, from my sourcs). Since reader makes the distinction, it shows Leona that they made the effort to research his favorite game. He would have appreciated the gesture of playing with him nonetheless, but that was a plus to him.

[3] Opening moves. Reader wanted to do the Queen’s Gambit, since it’s a popular and well-known opening. It’s also a move with a monarch in the title. Chosen not necessarily to represent the reader (see a different note for that), but you could see it that way if you want. They could not push through because Leona saw through them. Anyway, Queen’s gambit is White to d4, and afterwards c4, and while they did that they couldn’t complete a gambit because Leona went to move the knight instead of trying to control the center immediately.  

[4] Leona’s opening move is called King’s Indian Defense, a response against the Queen’s gambit… and my personal favorite opening when I had the misfortune of playing Black (a.k.a. going second) in matches. Also chosen for the monarch in the move name. When White goes d4, the knight (horse) goes f6. At White’s c4, pawn moves to g6.

[5] Yes most of these notes will be about chess I’m sorry! Okay so a few other choices I made in writing the chess scenes. Reader, both times, plays white (goes first), for a multitude of reasons—Leona putting them first, them being the light of his life, Leona wanting to give them the advantage, all of that. Leona goes second because, yeah… the second-born, second-place thing, but also he willingly chooses it for the challenge, because it makes it more fun for him, and because he enjoys just watching you go first and reacting to the things you do. It’s less of Leona going easy on you and more of him trying to see what you know and how well you can predict moves so he can teach you appropriately later on.

[6] Castling. As Leona explained, Castling is a move in chess specifically to protect the king. Also slight humpty dumpty reference. It was believed that he was based on a king (and he’s commonly depicted as an egg-king in media), and when he sat on the wall he had a great fall… so basically whatever “castling” Leona did against reader was a failure because he fell for the reader, lol.

[7] I actually don’t know what finger is longer for Leona.

[8] Ending moves. Scholar’s mate was chosen… For obvious reasons. He lets the reader win because he thinks it's cute that they chose that move from their “research” HAHAHA.

#twst x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar #twst #twisted wonderland #nathya twst writing #twst leona x reader #twst imgines

[redux-iterum]

Charred Legacy: Prologue

(AO3 counterpart here.)

The thing Russetfur hated about the Aulmir was how overwhelming it was.

She was grateful for its bounty, of course, and the blessed kindness of the occasional human bringing out fresh scraps, but it all came with an undercurrent of noise—buzzing worse than an angered wasp’s nest, clicks and clacks and incoherent shouts, all clashing into each other to create a uniquely irritating cacophony that grated on Russetfur’s sensitive ears. That was to say nothing of the scents, crammed into each other’s trails and knotting together so thickly there was no chance of picking out a specific smell; and that still ignored the lights, those awful miniature suns of cars and houses and streets that created shadows in useless places and lit up what could be perfect paths to sneak around on. And forget the deluge of humans, and dogs, and loners, and…

It was all just so much.

But, she reflected as she crouched with her nose just behind the edge of a flat rooftop, tolerable or not, she had her title as deputy for a reason, and it certainly wasn’t for whining about scouting missions in the Aulmir. This was her first outing since coming back to the position after having her kits forced her to take a break and let her father replace her, and she wasn’t about to disappoint him or Blackstar with a bad attitude and an early departure because she wasn’t comfortable.

Then again, by the prickling hair along the backs of two of her followers and the slitted pupils of the third, perhaps she could find some comradery in a complaint.

Focus. She returned her attention to the grey, flat ground beneath their low roof, currently host to a small cluster of loners that had just turned into the alleyway and were approaching a broad-shouldered and broad-bellied tom, mostly white with some black scattered on his back and head, reclined on a box. The loners still spoke to each other, just loud enough for a ShadowClanner’s broad ears to pick up.

“It’s just from so far away, y’know?” a tabby said, his good eye darting back and forth while the other pointed lazily down. “Rumors swell up real fast the further they get from their old source. And it could be fake.”

“Kemerain* don’t make things up for fun,” the tortoiseshell he was speaking to said curtly. “I trust their word more than I trust some of my neighbors.”

A blue-grey cat just behind the tortoiseshell shook their head. “You’re crazy. Any moron that flits about having games with foxes and crows isn’t a reliable source.”

They’d come within a body-length of the big tom at this point, and conversation stopped so that the tortoiseshell could crouch; less like a bow of respect and more like an animal bunching up its body, afraid to be hit.

The tom grunted and hauled himself up into a sitting position. His voice was rough and deep. “They’re right this time. We’ve seen them.”

The tabby jolted in place. “No fooling?”

“No fooling,” said the tom. Somehow, the words were much more dangerous coming out of his mouth. “Ain’t close, but they’re around.”

The tortoiseshell’s torn ears perked up about as well as they could. “What’s that mean for us, then? What’s our move?”

“Our move,” the tom said slowly, “is nothing. We stay put, let them do their thing. They ain’t our problem.” His green eyes narrowed just a fraction. “Yet.”

“Don’t like that ‘yet’,” the tabby mumbled. “Don’t like it.”

The blue cat came up to his shoulder and nudged him a little harder than they had to. “Easy. They’ve got plenty of things to keep them busy out there. We can just sit back and wait.” They looked to the big tom. “That’s about our plan of action, yeah?”

The tom nodded once.

Above the group, now chattering to each other in surprise and intrigue, Russetfur’s ears were pinned back against her head. She flicked her tail and carefully crawled backwards, her Clanmates following suit. Once they were a good nine steps away from the edge of the roof, she turned to them.

“What do they speak of?” Fernshade, a brown tabby, whispered. “We ought to listen more…”

“We will.” Russetfur gave her a reassuring blink. “I want you and Volewhisker to check the other side of this roof. See if there are more loners who can tell us more as we listen in.” At her and Volewhisker’s nods, she now turned to the largest by far of the patrol, a big grey tom. “Bouldernose, do they speak sense to you?”

The former loner drew in a breath, shut his eyes, and opened them again on the exhale, the pupils still slits. “Frankly, ma’am, I don’t know what they’re talking about, but that big one… I know him, and he’s got keen whiskers for things all the way on the far side of town. If he’s saying this…” His mouth twitched sideways. “…whatever it is, is true, I believe him. He’s not a liar.”

Russetfur hummed and gave a firm nod to her patrol. “We continue to eavesdrop, then. Bouldernose, with me.”

Volewhisker and Fernshade immediately turned and trotted off for different sides of the building. Russetfur gestured for Bouldernose to follow her, and together they resumed their position above the alleyway, where conversation was still going on, though quieter.

“I can tell you this,” Bouldernose muttered to his deputy. “Whatever’s got their attention, it is not a good thing.”

Russetfur said nothing, but her tail’s bristling fur agreed with him.

---

Far across the land, in the hollow atop the moorland, Rookstar sat with his eyes shut, forcibly keeping them from screwing up tightly.

Ryenose and Rushtail were in the center of camp, huddled over remains that had brought nausea to even the experienced leader’s set-in-stone gut. The apprentices whispered together in a disturbed hush, clustered into one side of camp, occasionally being gently reminded to keep their voices down when one spoke too loudly. The hollow was unsettled and uneasily quiet otherwise; a few murmurs of apology to the family and well-wishes to the tattered corpse’s departed soul dotted the night, and that was it.

Uneven pawsteps alerted Rookstar to open his eyes, taking care to look directly at his limping deputy as he approached.

“Think the foxes will take him?” The black tom sat down beside Rookstar, looking squat and stout compared to his overstretched and bony leader. “Body’s rather in a poor state.”

Holding his breath for a moment, Rookstar turned his gaze to the mess in the center of camp. He managed to push past the wave of ill in his gut and responded calmly. “They will. Meat is meat.”

Deadfoot grunted.

Rookstar took the opportunity to look away and back to Deadfoot. “Getting it to the carrefour will be rough.”

Deadfoot grunted again.

Things fell silent for some time. Even the apprentices had quieted down, now leaning against each other and, like Rookstar, turning their attention anywhere but the body.

The old molly currently staring down at her son’s remains finally turned her head up and looked to Rookstar and Deadfoot. Croaking a bit with emotion, she asked, “Can we take him now? I don’t…” She shook her head ever-so-slightly. “I don’t want to see this anymore. Him.”

Her living kit, Rushtail, gently placed his broad paw on hers. “Stay here. We’ll handle it.”

Steeling his stomach, Rookstar stood up and nodded once. Ryenose’s eyes went to her living son, her dead son, and her leader before she shut them and rose to her feet, backing a few steps away. Rushtail twisted around to touch his nose to her forehead when she stopped.

“I’ll help.” Thrushwing, a grey-brown molly, approached the remains. “That fine, sir?”

“Fine and well,” Rookstar said. He and Deadfoot joined the younger warriors. Deadfoot and Rushtail maneuvered to take the front half, while the broader Thrushwing hoisted up the back and Rookstar stood beside her, ready to catch their end by the tail if it started to fall.

Ryenose said nothing as they left, but when Rookstar glanced back, her faded eyes were wet and dim.

They were out of sight of camp before one of the patrol spoke, and it was Thrushwing who broke the silence.

“Tell you what,” she said. “That scent on him makes sense. Explains the missing prey.”

“And the shreds where food’s buried.” Rushtail tilted his head. “How many d’you think there are?”

Rookstar didn’t respond. His ears, usually facing backwards, were now perked, and his eyes were narrowed as he considered this.

“Blended scents and mud mixed in,” Deadfoot said, as the patrol went at a slow pace to let him keep up. “Could be one, could be nine.”

“However many, with respect,” Thrushwing said, “we ought to tell the other Clans.”

Rookstar looked back at her, his voice low. “Next Gathering is soon. We will.”

Thrushwing hummed shortly.

Silence fell over the patrol. They continued on their way, the hedge-line of the Barn steadily approaching. Rookstar could practically hear everyone’s minds storming as they thought over the events of the early evening – the discovery, the grisly return to camp, the mourning.

The implications.

Rookstar’s stomach was taut with the effort to acknowledge their grim load without being ill. Even in all his years of experience, this was a bit beyond him. And to think that it could happen again, to anyone, not just WindClan…

They all had to know. The Gathering was a few nights away.

Hopefully it could wait that long.

*"Kemerain": Plural for “kemera”, meaning “a neutral colony of cats”. Can mean a stationary or traveling group.

#warrior cats #redux iterum #iterum #prologue #chapter #book three #arc one #charred legacy

[jewishbarbies]

So I debated for a long time whether to send this or not bc I explicitly do not want to equate what's happening in I/P to fiction or in any way trivialize the very real people who have died

But I find it incredibly ironic (in a bad way) how the leftist circles screaming about Zionism are the same circles that are STILL openly proudly fans of tv shows/books/movies that depict war in genuinely nuanced ways. Ways that EXPLICITLY contradict the black and white narratives exploding in leftist spaces.

So like. Did y'all miss the point or do you think nuance is for fiction only? There are innocent civilians on every side in war and civilians shouldn't be blamed for the actions of their governments --but only in fiction? In the real world it's fine to celebrate civilian casualties as long as they're Israeli? Guilt by association in fiction is bad but every Jewish person should be held accountable for the Israeli military???

Like I'm intentionally not naming any fandoms bc this SHOULDN'T be about fandoms, but the hypocrisy is killing me. They claim to be fans of the "killing civilians is bad even when they're from the Bad Culture™" shows but they're out in the real world denying (or worse celebrating) Oct 7th? They love the fictional characters who say "killing civilians is bad" but can't stand Jewish people mourning the civilians in israel? What???

(again, I'm really not trying to make this extremely real problem about fiction. I just mean the complete lack of self awareness I see every day has me ready to explode. )

no, i get what you mean. i definitely think there's a link between the massive drop in critical thinking and media literacy and the fandomization of real world issues. there's some statistic that gen z is the most politically active of most previous generations and while that's inherently a good thing, they're not engaging with politics and conflicts in responsible ways. they'll do a lot of organizing for a cause here in america and get something done, and then think they can do the same thing for international plights and just end up stepping on everyone's toes, inadvertently perpetuating that america-centric attitude they claim to be against, bc they don't listen.

a lot of people these days refuse to engage with media in the way it's intended and therefore ignore or flat out miss its entire message. you'll have a movie/show/book/whatever about the nuances of war, like the hunger games (which gen z is so completely misinterpreting), and how easy it is to become the person you're fighting against if you let yourself do the things they do eye for an eye style, and they'll come away from that comparing hamas to katniss. it makes no sense within the context of the book's narrative, yet that's the conclusion they draw because they refuse to properly engage. it contradicts their second-hand anger. they're mad about their own shitty life in the states and the powerlessness we all feel here as our rights are being threatened every single day, and they'll look for somewhere else to put it all. so they butt in to situations they don't belong in and make it worse like bulls in a china closet.

bottom line is that they see what they want to see because of their lack of self reflection and self awareness, thus allowing their lack of media literacy, critical thinking, and confirmation bias run the way they think and believe. they've taken "it's fiction" to the point where none of them would pass a basic english class and now palestinians and hamas are all blorbos in The Real World Show.

#Asks #anonymoose #antisemitism

[becauseimanicequeen]

In Defense of Ji from To Be Continued

(Or “Let’s Look at Characters From a More Non-Binary Perspective”)

I’ve been thinking about writing a post like this since the 5th episode last week (but haven’t gotten around to it). But after reading a couple of comments with the general consensus that Ji’s actions were at the risk of becoming irredeemable, I felt like there was no time like the present. Better late than never, right? (This is a long one, so I’ll put most of it after a break with a TL;DR at the end.)

(Btw, that purple light between them is so well placed. They're clearly not communicating, symbolized by that line being drawn between them. And the purple, a mix of blue (trust and loyalty) and red (love and fate), symbolizes the mysterious and unresolved feelings they're both having (or are beginning to have) towards each other. )

The response to Ji and Achi that I’ve seen has been interesting. The little response I’ve seen (since I haven’t seen this series being talked about that much, or perhaps I’m just bad at searching for it) was utter annoyance with Achi the first few episodes until we were shown that Ji made Achi cry in the past and (mostly) everyone I’ve seen writing about this turned on Ji all of a sudden.

(It’s hilarious to see how easily viewers change their opinions. I mean that genuinely. Some of that is more entertaining than many QLs I’ve watched.)

My mindset isn’t that binary, though. (I don’t see things in either black or white because that’s too limiting for me.) That means that I’m neither for nor against either Achi or Ji. (I can definitely like one character more than another, but that doesn’t mean that character is “better” than any other. And in this particular case, I like Ji and Achi equally.) It just annoys me a bit when a character gets torn to shreds for an isolated scene or situation (akin to the whole Non vs Jin situation in DFF, which got waaaaay out of hand).

(Obviously, this is by no means a call for deep analysis of characters–essay style–every time anyone wants to say something about a character. But I do feel like taking an isolated situation out of context means that the meaning, however differently all of us interpret that meaning, gets lost.)

Based on what we’ve seen so far in To Be Continued, both Achi and Ji have made mistakes (in the past and present), they are both terrible at communicating, both are clearly confused and/or terrified of their feelings (especially towards each other), and it seems like no one wants to be the first to fess up. That’s the general situation of their relationship in the series so far.

A discussion on who’s at “fault” for Ji and Achi’s current situation based on what I just listed is pretty much unnecessary because they’re both equally responsible. However, since it’s so easy to play the blame game and spread it like wildfire on the internet just because there’s a character one doesn’t like or see eye to eye with, I thought it was a good idea to include it in this post anyway. Especially since my answer is based on my non-binary way of thinking. (Spoiler alert: it’s not either/or, it’s both/and.)

(I’m putting fault between quotation marks because I feel like its connotation is too negative when something like responsible would suit better. But since fault is often thrown around when playing the blame game, I’ll stick to that word.)

If we look at Ji and Achi’s actions (the ones we’ve seen so far), I feel like 3 moments stand out:

Achi pestering Ji in the first few episodes even though Ji said he wanted nothing to do with Achi. (Present)

Ji asked Achi to introduce him to Pear. (Past)

The mixed signals both of them are giving each other. (Past and present)

I’ve previously written a post about Achi choosing not to respect Ji’s boundaries (even when clearly stated), so I won’t go too deep into that. What I will mention here, however, is that it doesn’t matter how desperate Achi is in trying to keep Ji close. Breaking someone else’s boundaries is not okay. Whenever someone needs space, it should (ideally) be respected.

Achi is being way too pushy in the first couple of episodes, and he’s not even communicating why that is. I think he says once (or twice?) that he’s missed Ji all these 10 years they’ve been apart and that he wants to know how Ji's been, but that’s no excuse.

If you doubt that some space would make any difference, look at how Ji reacted during that whole montage of Ji finding those bags with food (or whatever it was) that Achi hung on his door in ep. 5. And those notes they write to each other when exchanging those bags is probably the best line of communication they’ve had since they got to know each other. That’s how much can change if a person’s boundaries are respected.

(Sure, you could argue that it was a result of Ji showing respect first when he thanked Achi for coming over with food in the scene before the montage. Sometimes you need to first give what you want to get, and that “thank you” to Achi might've made Achi realize he could back off without being terrified of losing Ji (or whatever his reason for being so persistent is).)

When it comes to my second point above (Ji asking Achi to introduce him to Pear), it’s very interwoven with the third point (the mixed signals both of them are giving).

In the whole montage of them going on that day trip and playing games and stuff in the past (ep. 3), you can clearly see that there are feelings involved from both of them (whatever that may be; friendship, fondness, curiosity, love, whatever). But every time Ji looked at Achi (especially when they were at one of those lookout points with a beautiful view), Achi turned away. I mean, if you look at that whole jacket scene, you can see that he literally steps back and avoids Ji’s gaze.

Ji doesn’t seem to mind though, it’s not like he’s surprised or worried about it. But it still doesn’t change the fact that Achi is giving him mixed signals. Achi is both hot (giving Ji his jacket when Ji’s cold) and cold (stepping away and avoiding Ji’s gaze when Ji is looking and smiling at him).

And then there’s the scene on the pier/jetty at the end of episode 4 (which is also from the past). This happens after Ji asked Achi to introduce him to Pear (which I still believe was very innocent at first because Ji seemed genuinely interested in her, and there’s nothing wrong with that).

On that pier/jetty, Ji is tentatively trying to figure out how Achi is feeling because he can sense the tension (at least that’s how I interpret it). Ji does so by first asking Achi if he has feelings for Pear (because that could be a logical explanation for the tension), but Achi says he doesn’t. That’s when Ji has this look on his face:

It’s like he’s trying to think of another reason for the tension, which I think is what leads to the moment when he says that Achi’s got pretty eyes, nose, and lips.

I feel like he’s being genuine here. At the same time as he’s trying to figure out what the tension is all about, he’s also giving Achi an opportunity to clear things up, to be honest with Ji, and for both of them to get closer.

Then Ji lays his head on Achi’s chest as if to listen to his heartbeat (perhaps listening for an answer rather than being told, because we already know that their m.o. isn’t communication).

Achi is swayed for a moment, but he still chooses to change the subject and ends up leaving the pier/jetty (once again giving Ji mixed signals, especially after looking at Ji with heart eyes only moments before).

Achi’s reaction is probably based on a fear of being rejected since he thinks that Ji is interested in Pear, so it makes sense. But, even though his actions make sense, he’s still choosing to participate in giving off mixed signals.

(I mean, if someone looked at me with hearts in their eyes and then avoided me like the plague when I wanted to get closer, I would ditch the bitch. But, this isn’t about me…)

What’s interesting (and something I think some viewers are forgetting) is that this scene from the past is mirrored in the scene in Ji’s bedroom earlier in the same episode (which is in the present). In the present, it’s Achi who says that he thinks Ji’s eyes, nose, and lips are pretty (confessing to Ji only when he thinks Ji is sleeping, which seems to be his m.o., btw).

But then he repeats it when Ji asks him what he said.

I feel like Achi is trying to bring back that moment from the past because he knows he missed an opportunity to be honest about his feelings at that moment on the pier/jetty. The difference is that this time it leads to them kissing (a kiss that should never have happened until they had cleared up their shit, btw, but who can stop these two confused, love-sick, adorable idiots? Well, the screenwriters can, but what would be the fun in that? I digress…).

This time, Ji is the one who breaks the moment. He knows just as well as Achi where those words came from. He remembers that moment on the pier/jetty in the past just as well as Achi. And I swear that he remembers the rejection too.

It’s possible those memories were too much for Ji. It’s also possible that he realized the kiss wasn’t a good idea (he has shown previously that he’s not okay with Achi just kissing him, like in ep. 2). And as we saw with the previous kiss, it takes Ji a moment or two before he realizes what happens an/or realizes the implications of what’s happening (it took him a moment before he pushed Achi away in ep. 2, and the same here in ep. 4 before he pulled back).

So, who’s at “fault” here? Who’s at “fault” for creating more tension (and hurt feelings) between them?

Is Achi at “fault” considering he brought up the past when mirroring that moment on the pier/jetty? Is he at “fault” considering he initiated the kiss in Ji's bedroom (he was the one who leaned forward first and the one who held onto Ji with both hands/arms)?

Is Ji at “fault” considering he rejected Achi? Is he at “fault” considering he told Achi to leave his bedroom after the kiss (clearly needing some space)?

And don’t come at me with the whole “but Ji hurt Achi’s feelings by hitting on Pear, not to mention taking her to the same movie that Achi took Ji to.”

First of all, was that a conscious choice of Ji’s? Possibly. Was this the best way to go about it? Debatable. But it should be said that Ji got interested in Pear before he started sensing the tension between him and Achi. It was all good feelings before that (and it could be that Ji didn’t think his relationship with Achi was beyond friendship, because delusion and confusion are every teenager’s middle names).

Secondly, on that same pier/jetty in that same scene in ep. 4, Ji mentions that he doesn’t like romantic movies, whereas Achi says that it might be because he’s never been in love. Is it then so far-fetched that he takes Pear to that same movie (which I assume is a romance) to test out if he sees the movie with new eyes now that he’s with Pear? Not really.

(Could he have chosen another romantic movie? Sure. Was there another romance playing at the time? I have no fucking idea because this is fiction and they didn’t tell us and we’re probably supposed to read between the lines that it was a romance and that Ji was influenced by Achi’s words and I’m totally getting off track here…)

Thirdly, and probably the most important point: Let’s not forget that there’s actually a possibility that Ji is bi (the same goes for Achi who had some sort of relationship with… what’s her name, Mona?).

I know it’s difficult in this generally binary-thinking world to understand there’s a possibility of something in the middle of black or white. You’re either gay or straight, right? Wrong! There’s such a thing as bi- and pansexuality. And since we’re living in such a binary-thinking world, it’s easy to be hella confused as bi- or pansexual.

(I won’t go into the bi-hate that viewers spew out in comments and reactions to QLs, especially when the lead roles are bi (and especially when they are together with or hook up with the opposite sex), but it’s so fucking annoying. I want to write a post about this one day, or reblog someone else's post who might’ve written about it better than I ever will, so if anyone knows a post on this, send it my way.)

If Ji is a bi character, can you blame him for being confused? If he’s not bi but is having his gay awakening, can you blame him for being confused?

Can you blame him for asking Achi to introduce him to Pear, especially since Achi has never expressed his romantic interest in Ji and Ji seems genuinely interested in Pear? Can you really blame Ji for trying to figure out what the fuck is going on with Achi when he notices the tension between them?

Can you really blame Ji for not being able to read between the lines (has anyone forgotten he’s a teenager?)?

And I’m not saying all this to say that it’s Achi’s “fault” either. He’s just as confused as Ji. And none of them are brave enough to take the first step to clear things up either.

Again, it’s both Ji and Achi’s “fault” that things are the way they are. They are both responsible for their situation.

There’s still much to be revealed in this series, so a lot of it is still up for speculation right now. Clearly, however, something happened that made them go their separate ways and be out of contact with each other for 10 years.

If I were to put my money on a bet, it would be that they split because of a misunderstanding on both their parts. What that misunderstanding is, though, remains to be seen.

(If I were to guess I think they hooked up, Ji was confused and needed some space to process, and Achi took it as a rejection and left the country (since we’ve seen that his mother lives in the US). But I'm probably wrong.)

Ji's actions, so far, are not irredeemable (he’s not even on the verge of being irredeemable). And if they were, Achi’s actions would be just as irredeemable.

It’s easy to play the blame game, especially in today’s world. It’s a lot more difficult to be open-minded. But the latter will always be more rewarding.

TL;DR: Both Achi and Ji have made mistakes, they are both terrible at communicating, and both are clearly confused and/or terrified of their feelings. No one is at “fault” for their current situation because they’re both responsible for it.

*stepping down from my soapbox*

#to be continued #to be continued the series #they are both responsible for their current situation #they are both idiots #they are both terrible at communicating #and I love them equally #my shit

[rivalsilveryuri]

wait what is ur favorite gen if it’s not gen 2

OK. so this is the worlds most complicated question 4 me aside from "whats your gender and sexuality" (there are no other questions) like.. UGHHH i literally CANNOT answer this without going on a HUMONGOUS essay not kidding. though if i DO it'll be really rambly.. and. not go anywhere really... (guess what?! point of no return V)

Favourite pokemon gen is a VERY difficult question for me. its easier to say my least favourite gen. Which would be gen 8. because it feels just… boring and forgettable in a way that .. no other gen feels? And is honestly a total mess in my opinion, but.. not in the way gen 9 sorta was? Cause while i definitely have a lot of gripes with gen 9, I do think theres a decent amount of positives and stuff to work with, and stuff that WORKS, and things that really stand out. ..compared to how bland gen 8 felt 2 me. And pointing out which gen im neutral about is fairly easy, aka sinnoh. (might need to really replay it and think it over tbh)

(though theres always one thing that complicates this and its like. the remakes? because sometimes i like a main gen game or hate it, and then i have opposite feelings about the remake, so its like. is the remake…. technically the gen of the origi… ok. whatever, this is a whole complication, i think i'll just go with like. whenever i say favourite gen it just means "favourite region" and remakes can count as well (minus gen 4 sorry ur remake was Like That) to make this easier)

And sayign which gens i Like… But don't tend to feel .. TOO much about ? like kanto… gen 1 has sooo much rep and content that its like.. frlg is fun, (and so is its SECOND remake, good lird) but theres not too much 4 me to chew on .. in . a.. deeper sense? aside from blue, red and leaf, personally. It's not bad! But I don't think anybody's really rearing to say gen 1 is undoubtably the best game mechanics.. visual.. story.. or.. anythin wise. it aint BAD.. but its not really.. much more ta me……

(also i'll specify, mechanics/ gameplay are like.. yes theres type additions, ability changes, oh and the split early on and myah myah and some games have gimmicks and other stuff like mounts, and supposedly bw/bw2 is harder [base game, not hard mode]-

(which. dude did you know. like. this is fucking silly to me but.. upon beating the maingame of black you unlock hard mode. "okay well, whats the issue?" well. upon beating the main game of white. yyou um. get. easymode.) (like im sorry but why the shit would you make DIFFICULTIES VERSION EXCLUSIVES…….. WHO PLAYS THROUGH AN ENTIRE POKEMON GAME.. AND IS LIKE "ah yes wait let me delete my save and do all of that again but like. even easier" W.. WHY… WHY IS… EASY MODE… UNLOCKED… AFTER BEATING THE GAME,, WHY IS HARD MODE A VERSION EXCLUSIVE???? A GENUINELY INTERESTING FEATURE N CHALLENGE?? i know people have probably said this before but its SO baffling to me. what a design choice)

-…but generally the core is the same, and ive never particularly ran into a bump in pokemon games, so it isnt really TOO much of a gripe to me. i love meaningless grinding. i was the worlds most boring little kid, i would start up a pokemon game just to grind to level 40 immediately after getting a starter for FUN. i could watch paint dry for hours i do NOT mind. The only time gameplay comes up is just. How Much is there to do? yknow? how much content.)

but my feelins on kanto are ironic cause i like johto more. sorryyy! i think johtos just more fun 2 me, partly because silver is SOO personal to me, and what they did with kanto was just a more welcome shakeup 2 me tbh. and i like the sort of feeling parts of it give off, and like. yes theres the big hole of like. team rocket being even MORE of a wet fart in that game than b4. likr sure hgss DEFINITELY gave it an overhaul but it still wasnt .. GREAT… since it was the lowest presence an evil team kind of had (until gen 8.) and while yes, they were trying to contact giovanni, and giovanni .. was.. there .. he just got time travel assassinated.. its still kinda.. eh? and being one of the games with a HUUGE identity crisis in the way that gen 2 is forever stuck to gen 1 in a way… gen 1 isnt? but shrug. I don't really mind it. OH and i love silver in crystal. he's so so funny in crystal, whats wrong with him… and i like the legendary beast stuff! i like it, it feels pretty fucking cool.. and eusines funny. pokemon crystal is so fascinatign 2 me i want to pick it apart with my teeth, i love the aesthetic, the music, everythin. (even if the late grind is HORRIBLE) ..but idk if gen 2 is my favourite. We'll.. get back to this later .

SO WHAT IS? Um.

See .. this is kinda where i have 2 now explain a timeline. I KNOW. i know. .. (said through tears) You're just gonna have to sit down with me here because i am so insanely autistic about pokemon. pokemon has been my special interest since i was a tiny pea brained baby. i was literally known purely for pokemon when i was younger because i would NOT shut up about it. (….and here i am writing an unneccesarily long, entire essay. well.) My first game was xy. when i was . uhh .. gosh.. somethin likr… 9? i couldnt finish it because i genuinely couldnt read and got stuck on that furfrou puzzle. i know. its so insanely easy . its unreal. But i gave up. and i didnt have any internet so it stayed that way. for several years. I KNOW. OKAY. leave me alone…

but in the meantime i got oras and. this is when the autism kicked in . severely….. i fucking LOOOVE ORAS . ORAS HEADS LETS GOOO LETS RISE WOOO WOOO IM SOOOOO BIASED. UNREAL-Y BIASED. CRITICAL THINKING DIES HERE WOOOOOHOOOO . and . its a whole thing. i love the way oras looks. its so so so pretty, like. SHOCKINGLY pretty dude. I also really like the weird fusion oras and xy had of like. chibi models, the realistic (? i have no better description 4 this. models used in cutscenes and battles), AND the art. which was definitely unnecessary but i think the eeny weeny models were cute.. Also oras' music. i know its NOT original but i really like the way they remade it. yes the trumpets are almost absent, and some major changes were made to some tracks, which were devisive but honestly? i really like the original soundtrack (because the way rse's soundtrack sounds is really impressive) and the remake is just very lovingly done imo? it just feels nice 2 listen 2…

but . all my.. Current, More Developed Brain Opinions aside. at this point i could read. amazing development. so, i liked lisia. hated brendan. (we had beef.) thought wally was odd but fun, and i REALLY liked zinnia… and of course maxie and archie and their admins too.. and by the way, i liked this game SO much, that i completed the entire pokedex at age 10/11. for fun. so its safe to say i . may like oras. i liked it SO much i then pestered one of my older brothers when he was over to find a tutorial for that segment in xy.. and eventually beat that too. i like gen 6, but i understand a lot of people DONT, and thats understandable. lysandre is SUCH a mess, so are the rivals, but i generally found it charming. though i definitely understand why it was received Very Badly. but xy isnt my favourite.

A few years later, a bit older, when i was then 12.. i played gen 7…. and really liked it. but i dont have too much to SAY about it. (this could honestly be because i didnt replay gen 7 again, having one savefile for my entire playtime. and while i still have an unreal amount of time in usum, i didnt obsessively replay it like i did with oras.) but there's nothing 4 me 2 say that hasnt already been said.. i liked gen 7. completed the dex when i was 12. i liked lillie and gladion and hau, (and i think people either A) dumbed them down way too much, or where excessively critical over hau being. Nice. which….) and team skull.. which is one of my favourite evil teams below magma/aqua, and its definitely one of my favourite gens. but i think… people have said it before but sm had the better story, usum had the better gameplay. usum is JAMMED full of sooo much content its unreal….but i HATE what they did with lusamine. also the ultra recon stuff was kinda … uhh. it was REALLY hyped up in advertising like "oooohhh who are these mysterious people?!?!?" and they just kinda… didnt have a presence??? at all??? like. umm. ok . but i like gen 7. … i like halves of gen 7.

Then . ..gen 8 came out. and uhh. well. I lost a WHOLE lot of faith. cause when it came out almost.. …5 .. years ago .. stars abovr . i got really pissed. cause i HATED IT. i played through it, i wanted to give it a chance, and it was .. fine.. at first. but then i started thinking about it. and thinking about it. and you heard a LOT of things about it at the time. and then i hated it. i hated pokemon . and then i did not touch this game series for the next four years. I heard NEWS about pokemon, but i just kind of grew more spiteful over the years and stuck my head further underground.

#VOICEMAIL #good lird. i am SO sorry for the person i become whenever I talk about pokemon #i never get to ramble about it to this degree . WORDS GET AWAY FROM ME </3 #I HAVE 2 REBLOG 2 ADD PART 2 . HELP ME. SORRY.......

[moonstruckloverwritings]

Yandere! Steve Rogers x Reader (general Headcanons)

Steve’s song about/to reader:

Completely obsessive, incredibly possessive, and sooo clingy.

So, first off, I think he would be a very black and white yandere.

What I mean by that is, he could either be your most beautiful daydream or your most terrifying nightmare. It really all depends on how much you behave.

I think at first he would try to date you normally but would also rush it or go overboard before you guys have gotten to a level that certain gestures are normal. Like getting you clothes, engraved jewelry, and like a build-a-bear at the first date level when those gifts would be seen as overbearing. Or downright creepy.

This might push you away on its own. And 100% would if you didn’t like him that way to begin with.

But if you did accept it and liked him back, you’re just digging your own metaphoric grave I’m gonna be honest. You give him an inch, he’ll take a mile. He would be completely comfortable with being married and in the process of having kids by the end of the year. The sooner the better in his eyes.

If you tried to let him down easy as in, you didn’t completely cut contact off, maybe stayed friends or colleagues, he would argue about it. “Why am I not enough? I’d do anything for you!” “What more could I do? I’ll do it!” He would get aggravated and try to convince you to change your mind. Wether nicely or.. loudly.

If you completely ditched out on him and tried to hide from or avoid him and his texts, he would find you. That’s it. That’s just how it would be. He would find you and you would learn to love him. He would kidnap you and have strict rules on what you could and couldn’t do.

He would spoil you while you were good but if you had been bad and broken rules, he would severely punish you. This is the first yandere I’ve written about that would actually put their hands on you in anger in some way. I could see him spanking you or if you kept pushing and made him mad enough, he might slap you out of anger. Slapping you would make him instantly feel guilt and regret and would be the only way he might regret his actions. Spanking though, doesn’t effect him emotionally because he would be one of those people that don’t see them as the same thing even though the only difference is location. And with him being a super soldier and having super strength.. it would hurt so much more.

Other punishments would be things more like stern or angry lectures, confinement until submission, and confiscating things you enjoy.

His rules are pretty strict as well. He would expect you to fall in line of the traditional “house wife”. You cook his breakfast, lunch, and dinner. You clean the house. You pamper and fawn over him and his needs. And you will not complain, argue back at him, or fight against him in any scenario. If you do, you will immediately be punished. The severity of the broken rule will have a matching punishment of the same severity.

If you can expect anything out of him, expect him to be fair. If you brake a rule the punishment is matching in severity, if you’re the house wife then he will provide everything you want and need. He won’t punish you without cause. Etc.

He will pay for everything. Just ask and you’ll get it.

I may have painted him more as a dictator and that is accurate for one side of him as a yandere but he also has another softer side.

He is very clingy and very affectionate. He does love you in his own.. twisted way. Cuddling and kisses are very frequent in this relationship. He would love doing silly things that he missed out on too. Board games, fun karaoke, etc. he would love just spending time with you in general. Being around you and with you in anyway is his bliss. If you’re less lively and have more of a calmer personality, he’d love to read your favorite books to you. Or poetry if you like that. Hot cocoa, in front of the fire place with him rubbing your feet and you reading a good book while it snows outside. He is very attentive and loving if you let him show it.

He would be completely obsessed with you in ways like this. Always thinking of you when he’s away. Always worrying over you. Always touching you in some way like holding hands or his arm around you holding you close. When cuddling he is very much the type to nuzzle against your shoulder and just breathing you in. He lives to indulge in you. This is also why I picked the song I added to the post. He is absolutely obsessed with you.

“Just let me love you, darling.”

Authors note:

There’s many ways I could see a yandere Steve Rogers going so if anyone has any requests on scenarios, lmk!

#headcanon #x reader #x y/n #x you #yandere #yande.re #obsessiveness #headcanons #marvel #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #captain america #mcu fanfiction #mcufam #mcu x reader

[nozomi-akamivt]

Scalpels and Paintbrushes || Chishiya Shuntarô x Reader

- read ‘til the end for notes -

When a freelance artist travels to Japan to rekindle her passion for art and her life, she finds herself in a whole other predicament. Dangerous games, dangerous people, a dangerous world with dangerous rules. She’s alone, fending for herself, until she meets a disoriented medical student that will bring her comfort but might bring more difficulties and heartbreak aswell.

Chapter 9: Fleeting moments

And with this Kuina came back and fake smiles were exchanged, I went to serve myself food and we talked, small talk, just like strangers would.

After that the rest of the day was a blur. I went to my room and cryied harder than I had in months. Of course he had to come back when I was finally fine without him. It's always what happens, old habits die hard and old demons are not easy to kill.

So to the bar it was.

The walk there was okay, I bumped into couples shoving their tongues in each other's throats and militants acting tough. But once arrived in the bar the noise was almost too much to handle. I had to get what I wanted to get and quick.

"Hey, do you have two bottles of...you know what I'm too tired to give a fuck. Give me two bottles of whatever you have that's the strongest."

"I'm on it babe!"

And as soon as I blinked two bottles of absinthe were shoved on the counter.

"Have fun!"

Yeah. I don't know about this one. And I wave to the bartender as I leave the overcrowded bar and make my way into the building. Asking around here and there for directions on how to get to the rooftop I pass by the clothing room to get a vest to cover myself since the swimsuit barely did so.

"Oh, what are you?"

I feel something hard in the pocket of the cardigan, an iPod with its earphones intact? It was matte black and seemed in good condition. And as I clicked on the buttons it lit up.

It had battery.

"Did your previous owner have taste little one?"

And with that I continued to make my way up, absinthe bottles shoved in the deep pockets of the cardigan and clinking as my thighs pushed me up the stairs. My hand was occupied in scrolling as I listened through the downloads with one earphone in.

And once I arrived on the rooftop I sat on the edge, finally finding a song peaceful enough to fit what I wanted.

"Not bad. I'd thank your owner if they were still here. Although I guess I am your owner now huh? Shit, what am I doing talking to myself. You've gone crazy Humpty Stumpty, that's it, Chishiya was the final blow to your poor ole mind."

Absinthe in hand, I put it between my thighs and unscrew the cap. The strong herbal scent of the liquor hitting me in the face, more and more when I bring the bottle to my lips.

"Well, here's to me and still being alive although I'm losing it. I hope you've got your drinks on too Hide, Yumeko. I miss you guys."

And with that I drank, swift and hefty swigs were taken from the bottle as the music in my ears calmed the ringing silence of loneliness and hid the atrocious noisiness of the partying downstairs.

It was crazy how the sky was beautiful since all industrial activity stopped, it was so clear, the air was so clean. But was it worth it if all we had left was hell on Earth?

"Doesn't it burn?"

"It does, but it doesn't mean it's bad."

"It isn't meant to be drank this way you know?"

"I know, it doesn't mean I can't. There's nothing we can't do around here, I don't know if it's such a good thing as everyone makes it to be though."

I give him the bottle. Him, the man in white, the familiar stranger, the old demon I welcome back in my nights. And he drinks. And no other words are uttered as we watch the world in silence.

First Month:

Days passed and Kuina was a great girl, but being around her meant being around Chishiya. But I stayed, I stayed because I didn't want her to be hurt. She could fend for herself but I guess I just couldn't leave her to be alone with him, just in case.

Niragi was still annoying, comming ever so often to hit on me and annoy Shuntarô as I learnt he loves to do.

"So baby, what are you doing tonight? Going for a game?"

"Yes."

"I've been nice to you, c'mon give me something. A sentence that is more than a word, I don't know!"

"You've been hitting on me. I don't want you. You're violent and bat shit insane, that ain't what I want to link myself with."

He rolls his eyes and his fingers twitch around his rifle as he approaches me, and I face him head on.

"You're as violent as I am."

"Not by choice."

"But you could be, let yourself go!"

"Why would I want to, then I'd be nothing more than an animal."

"Did-"

"Did I say you were a wild feral beast? Yeah. You say that shit is human nature but don't you mean you stooped as low as becoming an unruly raging animal? Human nature is being intelligent enough to keep our instincts and unchecked desires out of society. By either taking control of them in a safe environment or erasing them."

And with that I go to the car where the rest of the people going to the same game as me are while he yells after me, finally reaching his boiling point. Once I arrived there, there is only one other person in the car. Shuntarô Chishiya.

"And thus Frankenstein's beast and her master are once again together."

Saying nothing I enter the driver's seat and start the engine, speeding towards our next game, a school

Once arrived there everything looked overrun by nature. It was growing much faster now that human intervention had ceased. And I slowly walked through thepath, admiring the great location and trying to put some distance between Chishiya and I.

Once arrived, we both take the phones given, validating our inscription to the game. Then a chime made itself known.

"Welcome Participents. Game: Eight of Clubs, Aka Manto. The players will all get to the toilets and enclose themselves in a cubicle, there they will have 5 minutes to make a choice. Once the choice has been made, people having chosen the same answer will be put into pairs within the same group. The pairs will be given a list of objects. The objective will be for these pairs to find these objects as fast as possible and stop Aka Manto's chase. The ones that cannot do so and are not already dead will suffer the consequences. You will have one hour."

"So they sai-"

"I understood Chishiya."

His eyebrows lift and I roll my eyes.

Aka Manto, we'd most likely be given the choice between red and blue toilet paper once in the cubicle, each color meaning a different death. Blue meaning suffocation until we become blue and red being stabbed until we are covered in our own blood. So once I entered mine I immediately picked red. Dying suffocating has got to be one of the worst things I could think of, and I'd rather be able to go against a stabbing maniac and have a chance of stealing their weapon.

"Teams are chosen. Red team go to the east wing, Blue team to the west wing. You have 10 minutes until start of the game."

"You've chosen red too?"

"I prefer reserving choking for the bedroom."

"Niragi would be elated."

I glare at him.

"Listen, I know you wanna piss me off but we really need to think of what to give to who and not be stupid in our decisions."

"We should team up."

"What did I say about NOT being stupid about our decisions?"

"We're both very intelligent. We'd get out quickly and easily. If you see people you want to help, go and help them, but together we'd have the most chances."

And with that I sigh. He was right, as much as I hated to admit it. So we paired up. Seeing our list I groaned out loud. We needed to find a daruma, two traditional japanese dolls, red thread, chalk, candles, salt and matches.

A purifying ritual.

"I fucking hate this already."

"You hate a lot of stuff."

"No shit Sherlock. Let's start already, chalk would be easy enough, in a class. Red thread and dolls...a sewing club?"

"Mh. Candles would maybe be in the teachers' lounge, or maybe if there's a drama club. And salt in the mess hall or kitchen."

"Matches and a daruma doll..some sort of janitor's closet?"

"Yeah it could fit. Where do they say the ritual has to be done?"

"Basement of course."

He hums and we get to work first would be the teachers' lounge, I lead the way since I was stronger physically. And we rounded corners after corners, hearing our panicked fellow red team pairs scambling about, until we attained the lounge and separated to check every cabinet present.

"Got them!"

I nodded back and we started to get going to our next location, the janitor's closet on the first floor where we could also get to both the mess hall and the kitchen. But all of a sudden the door opened and a tall figure in red holding a butcher knife entered and we were lucky enough to duck in time.

I signal Chishiya to not move as I look slightly over the table, they wore a mask that most likely impaired their vision but two people leaving would be impossible as it'd cause too much noise. So I duck back down and nod my head at the white haired male to continue to his left and get to the door, probably thinking I'd follow him he did.

"Hey asshole try and get a piece of that!"

And as I uttered those words Chishiya looked at me, almost too fast, and I motionned for him to run. I'd distract the Aka Manto, and he'd get what we need from downstairs. He begrudgingly followed my plan and I started running to the opposite side, if I couldn't outrun him, I'd outsmart him. And if I could do neither, I'd keep him at bay.

I turned corners, climbed stairs up and down yelled in the corridors so that other teams would know to run, but the damned bastard wouldn't leave me alone. So I hatched a plan, I'd go downstairs as planned but I'd kill the fucker. He'd die anyways if he lost the game, so how about I make it easier for him? And so with newfound vigor I sprint to the stairs, making it down the last flight and into the last corridor before the mess hall.

"(y/n)!"

"Chishiya run, now!"

He scrambled in the kitchen from where he was in the mess hall and I heard a loud bang of the doors opening and loud and fast thumps, Aka Manto was here.

"C'mere big guy! You want a fight? I'll give you one!"

I run to him and slide to my knees, kicking his legs from under him and he falls to the ground, groaning. As I roll back he catches my right leg and nicks it pretty bad with his meat cleaver, and as he was about to bring it down to strike again I kicked it our of his hands and quickly got to my feet. Not getting greedy in hitting the opponent I take the cleaver.

"Now we're talking."

Doors opened and two other teams came in, the Aka Manto, feeling disadvantaged tried to go to them first but I put myself in front muttering a "no you don't". The other pairs knew to run away from here fast as I held the cleaver up in front of me.

I'm gonna shish kabob that motherfucker.

He attacks first and he is fast and much heavier than me, I evade once, then twice but the third time he changes up his tactic and kicks my diaphragm. As I am proulsed backwards, my lungs cough up all the air I held. My hand still gripped the knife and it seemed to iritate the guy, he became more agressive, beating my face in thinking he could beat me to unconsciousness then kill me and get on with his day.

So I act as if I was going to punch him with my left hand and he diverts his attention enough for me to lift my arm and bring the cleaver down with enough force that I sliced through his clavicle.

The rest was fairly easy. I turned us around, using the momentum he had as he fell to his right. Once on top of him, I hit his neck enough times to behead the guy. Rolling on my back next to him, in a puddle of blood mind you, I take back my breath. The edges of my vision were black from the beating and I was losing blood but I'd be fine enough for another thirty minutes or so.

So I stood up and with staggered steps made my way to where Chishiya would be by now.

"You were fast, you got to the basement before I did you ass."

"And you look like you've gone to hell and back."

"I'm fine, you should see the other guy. D'you need help with anything?"

"Nah, go rest."

"Fuck off, do we do it in a circle or...?"

"Yeah, and wr-"

"wrap the red thread around and between the dolls tying them together. The salt is for purification purposes, red thread means fate, dolls are the world of the living and the Aka Manto, the candles are ritualistic in nature, the chalk is the border."

"Wow, you know your stuff. Did you read the thing?"

"How could I, I was flirting with death. Nah it's pretty basic spiritual knowledge and connecting the dots by this point."

And so we lit the red thread and our phones chimed, we were free.

"Good job."

"Yeah, you too."

And times and times again Chishiya would be in the same game team as I. So much so that I thought he did it on purpose. It would be totally counterproductive though, why spend months avoiding me to start and be close again? There was no way he'd apologise and reveal what he was hiding.

It didn't take a genius to see that his confession was made of half truths. There was something he didn't tell me, and maybe it was the reason he hovered around me, even in spade missions in which he'd be at a disadvantage.

But who was I to force anything out of him?

So I let it go.

"What are you thinking about? And don't say 'nothing' again or I swear I'll throw you out of the window."

"Just, getting lost in thoughts about the past."

"Yeah I know what your mean, but you do it a lot more when you come back from games with Chi- nOOOOO WAY."

"No Kuina, it's not love."

"Bu-"

"No, I know how he is. I don't want none of that with him anymore."

"What do you mean anymore? Did you have a crush on him? Were you together and you didn't tell me?"

"No to both."

"Were you not truly strangers when I introduced you two?"

"Touché."

"Wow I smell drama. Don't worry, I won't ask if you're worrying about that, but I did feel the tension between you guys. I just thought it was sexual!"

"Wha-"

Second month:

I got used to him lurking around, like some sort of weird guardian angel. Still annoyed me though.

"You know that I know you're here."

"I know that you know that I know."

"Stop being a smartass."

He chuckles and sits besides me. Evenings with him became, against my will, a routine. I'd go drink on the rooftop, occasionally with a cigarette or two, music in my ears and him in my shadow. It'd be silent for most part, my fight having mellowed out; he could fight back and he was Chishiya anyways, he's so stubborn I had become tired of fighting behind Kuina's back unless he truly got on my nerves.

"What are you listening to?"

"What? Why'd you want to know?"

"I'm bored."

"Tell me something new."

I give him the earbud I do not use and that is how the last of our conversation fizzles away as the playlist rolls through and the bottle of booze goes from me to him, from him to me, until no more amber liquid is left.

"It reminds me of our first night drinking together, back at the mall."

I hum.

"Didn't think you'd remember Shuntarô."

"Didn't think you'd want to talk about it."

"My fight is gone, I'm tired emotionally and physically, I don't care anymore Chishiya. I can't spend the rest of my days hating you this much. But I'll never forgive you that's for sure."

"I'm sorry."

"Try when you're not drunk, your eyes are droopy and you're swaying.... but thanks anyways."

"So you don't hate me?"

"I just heavily dislike you. Go sober up Chishiya."

He mumbles and leaves, and I smile, taking a whiff of the cool midnight air. He's always softer when he's drunk.

Third Month:

"Do you do this on purpose?"

"Do what?"

He says chewing on his snack, looking at the road ahead decors flying by as I drive the both of us to yet another game.

"Stick to me like a chewing gum to my soles on a summer day?"

"Maybe."

"You're gonna need to give me a bit more than that Shuntarô."

"You're less boring than the others people around here, it ain't my fault."

"You almost sound like you actually want to be with me."

"Ew, don't credit yourself this much it's disgusting."

"Riiiight, keep following me then. Creep."

Senso-ji Temple was our stop of the evening. Our game first seemed easy enough, Hide and seek, but in a gigantic space, seekers would be human, have human reflexes an thought processes.

I was very wrong.

"LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE YOU GIANT SPIDER FUCK."

Giant robotic spiders.

GIANT ROBOTIC SPIDERS WERE THE SEEKERS.

They had night vision and were unable to get tired, the whole group got killed within minutes.

"CHISHIYA YOU ASS I'M HELPING WITH YOUR PLAN AT LEAST HELP ME BACK."

The objective was to find the 'nest' and destroy it because of course they'd have a nest.

"Okay I see where it is, distract it some more."

"I've been doing it since THE PAST TEN MINUTES YOU DUMBASS"

He chuckles and cuts the signal of his walkie talkie. "It's me and you now you disgusting eight legged freak....please help me God" My thoughts keep bouncing back and forth from confident to scared shitless as this immense metal arachnid closes the distance between us.

I had to think fast.

The giant gongs. I was dying, my breath getting shorter but I had to go faster, get the spider so lazer focused she'd hit the gong. And so that's what I did. Sprinting even faster I was thinking of how I'd kill Chishiya if I ever died because of a giant spider robot, and how I'd make it as painful as possible. My legs pushed by faster and faster, and faster until I slid under the gong and the spider hit it so hard the noise resonated through Tokyo. It was down for maybe a few seconds, letting me catch my breath on the ground, but quickly got back up and when I thought it was the end I saw a huge source of light coming from behind the temple. The spider exploded, some shrapnel cutting me, but the motherfucker had saved be just in time.

"Game clear. Congratulations."

And with a heavy sigh I fall to the ground, something coming to poke my side with its foot.

"Next time, you run." I pant.

And he helps me up, chuckling and muttering a "in your dreams", giving me a pat on the back.

Fourth month:

That night I didn't go outside, my body was aching and I was simply too tired to care, choosing to go listen to music on my bed instead. The game didn't go well, it was a game of heart and it required of me to lie to get people to kill each other. There was a bunch of kids there.

I just killed a bunch of kids.

It raised the bile to my throat. You do what you need to do to survive, but that shit. Killing people that haven't done shit to you? It always feels the worst. It's the type of blood that can't be erased no matter how much you wash and scratch your skin so your own blood hides the one of the innocents.

"There's blood on your bedsheets."

"I know. Don't worry it's mine." I sniff, fat tears rolling down my face out from my closed eyes.

I hear a sharp inhale and scrambling around until a wet cloth is dabbed around my mouth, if you cant scratch yourself with your other hand your body has other tools.

"You can't keep hurting yourself. You drink, you smoke, you do shit like that, you're deflecting your pains. Using addictions and new pains to make you forget the old ones."

"Wow I love to get psychoanalyzed by my ex." Another sharp intake of breath and a pregnant pause.

Until he scrambles again, washing my arms with antiseptic, I tried to not budge but the pain was intense and I was feeling antsy due to slowly loosing blood.

"Do you want to kill yourself (y/n)? 'Cause you're on the right path to do so."

"Sometimes I do yeah. But I'm not worthy yet, so I keep on going."

My arm finally wrapped up, I curl up on my side.

"You're worthy of more than you think."

"You're just saying that."

"You know I always mean what I say, or at least half of it."

"Way to make me feel better."

I feel the bed dip and a hand going through my hair. It had gotten longer in the time I was at The Beach, around Chishiya's length.

"I should cut it."

"No, let me take care of it."

"...okay."

And so he did. Next day he brushed the nest that was my hair, which I frankly wanted to just shave because of how unnecessary it was. I didn't care much for my looks anymore.

But when Chishiya brushed my hair and washed it, it reminded me of that day, months and months ago. A day that I wanted to forget like I wanted to forget him back then. But, one of my reasons for being how I am now.

He was so gentle with me today, as if I were glass. In the mirror I saw nothing but a broken woman and looked at myself with disdain. But he looked, hopeful somehow. And as I looked at his face I sighed.

"Your hair looks like shit. Sit." And he did.

"Your hair looks like tarmac with a piss poor covering of snow on it."

And with that and the slight sound of the iPod, I opened the bleaching kit I found under his sink. Preparing the mixture and gently putting it on Chishiya's hair. The fumes were horendous but his hair was finally back to platinum, so I washed his hair and dried it as gently as I could while I watched his shoulder and face relax from the mirror.

"I missed this." He said as he opened his eyes and looked up at me, a small smile on his lips. I scowl.

"Shut up, I just don't want to be indebted to you."

But all I did was hide the fact that,

I missed this too.

Fifth month:

"JESUS CHISHIYA GET YOUR LEGS TO RUN FASTER."

Another hospital games. Those were fun right? Yeah no, they weren't ever fun. This time it was a club game, once again.

But we had to run, and fast.

We had to find creepy dolls all around the hospital to smash em and get a piece of a code which we all communicated to each other via walkie talkie.

Turns out that when we smash a doll, we get ten minutes in which our position is revealed to the killer, and he was efficient. Probably a merc, but definitely someone that we needed to outsmart since we couldn't out run him. So we brought him to the maze that is the OR floor. Just a bunch of doors leading from one room to the other, to the corridor, to yet another room.

How wrong we were to bring him here.

"I think we lost him." I pant.

"Yeah, good job. Stay here, I saw a doll in the observing room."

"Sure."

I lean on the counter and as I take a breather. The lights turn off.

"Shuntarô, this is too familiar. Shun?"

"The door is locked, fuck. We're trapped."

"Shit, it's starting to smell weird in here."

"DONT INHALE IT- (y/n)? (Y/N)?!"

And as I feel my consciousness slipping, I feel a stinging in my stomach area.

. . . . ..n)

. .

. .../n)

. .

(y/n)

.

(y/n) please wake up, please.

I feel my body being rocked back and forth as my numbed senses come back to me.

"Chi-"

"Please, don't die on me, not yet. You can't, you need to stay alive."

"Chishiya what the fuck?"

He stops his mumbling, now that my eyes were less hazy I could see it. Streams of tears were running down his cheeks, I was back in my room, on my bed, in Chishiya's arms. And it all came back to me, the hospital, it was like back then, when I lost my arm. So I do what I can and take him in my arm as he collapses of exhaustion.

I set him on my bed and lay next to him. It was the second time it happened, we really shouldn't get separated in hospitals. And as sleeps overtakes me, he holds me.

And that's the last time I see him before he ignores me again.

<Prev /Next>

M.list

taglist wanters

Whew, that man is a rollercoster. Loves me, loves me not. They are dancing around each other and soon enough we'll have some action. Next chapter is the start of canon stuff related to the series so I hope you guys are ready, because I sure am! Also, I hope you like my amputee jokes for mc from last chapter, there will be some more when I feel the context is good enough. Merry Christmas y'all!

#shuntaro chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro #shuntarou chishiya #chishiya shuntarou #chishiya #shuntaro chishiya #x fem!reader #x female reader #chishiya alice in borderland #imawa no kuni no alice #arisu alice in borderland #alice in borderland #scalpels and paintbrushes #shuntarou chishiya x reader #imawa no kuni no arisu #chishiya fluff #alice in borderland s2

[csmeanerr]

It’s so funny cause I see people say to spend money on non-digital things rather than CS and I just can’t take that as a good suggestion. One of my aunts, my dad, and his mom all have pretty bad hoarding tendencies, and when I buy real things I just hold onto them and don’t use them. I tried Pokémon cards (I have thousands), I was in the squishmallow craze (I have at least 20), and I buy legos (over $2k I’m sure) but they just take up space and that’s it. You could argue the same for my CS or really any OCs but at least that’s digital storage that does not affect my real life. Could I save? Yeah but I don’t have anything else in my life to distract me from the heap of useless money. No friends to hang out with, no hobbies, nowhere to go, nothing to do, it’s all an event of spending money either way. If I have to spend my money, I’d rather it be to support creators and on things that won’t fill up my house.

If it works for others good on them though fr

want to give this one a proper response because it's a good perspective to see through and understand. empathy and all that, and if i were in the same position yeah i'd prefer the stuff that doesn't take up space too

at the same time it's not all black and white and i can tell this is being typed from a pretty dark place and hope the best for you going forward. i've been in a pretty similar position, especially the pokemon cards. CS gives an easy entry to a community, especially if you have something others want. they are basically an art community centered around a common theme, the species itself

and while im all about supporting creators and making the most of your life, i want to add in some counterpoints to your words because i don't want others to fall into that defeatist attitude. shit might get personal but i do appreciate your message

cs is already a hobby. idk what you do in them but from how it's worded it seems you use your money to help pass the time with, be it buying an adopt or legos to do something with. spend your money however you want but i'll just say it doesn't need to be spent on material goods. just treating yourself to a yummy meal can still be worth its weight and not leave behind any 'waste' beyond the physical clean up

if you want to support creators too then support the other people in the CS community beyond the owner or staff. im all about creators getting compensated for their work while also understanding CS owners artificially inflate their work's value by arbitrary rules such as limited traits or artificial scarcity. if you want to support that then it's not like i can change your mind about it, all i'm saying is you can also use your money to commission the other artists who often have to sell their work for fake in-game currency or pennies in comparison

ngl you sound defeatist and bitter and are only rallying behind cs practices because you have a parasocial relationship and cope hard with it. im not gonna discredit that, i did the same exact stuff and put thousands into buying adopts be it because of FOMO, because I did like the owner, because i liked the design, or even just having something to do by checking market channels, talking in the chat, or designing their backstories. it's easy to stick with that or latch on, because if you have the money (and even if you don't) it's just the same as any other anchor to the shitshow of life

do i have a solution? not really it's not a fix-all and i'm not a therapist, i'm just going to say i can't abide by your explanation nor can i recommend it to others because that is the exact same mindset that people with addictive personalities have and makes them so susceptible to CS's terrible practices. hopefully you can find another way to cope and i do wish you the best

#help

[enneamage]

how are people getting upset over tntduo game "implied hooking up" be so serious

The rulesbrain of main and it’s consequences.

I try to have space for people who are offput by sexuality online because lord knows the online space hasn’t historically been great at keeping sexual content away from people who don’t want to see it, so I do think of younger generations going around with at minimum negative early experiences around that. That really doesn’t set people up for unconflicted horomonal success down the road. Having said that, there is a kind of hyper-sensitization that grows in the fan spaces that have gone puritan that genuinely seems to be doing more harm than good.

From what I could tell, the end slate with the nightstand is tame. Simple and to the point: they bang. The fight is if that concept alone is a violation of The Rules. If I were to mind-read Wilbur and Q for a moment, I don’t think that this would be taken as a massive offence in their eyes, I actually think that they would be kind of hype that somebody made a game and have that be the end of it. The issue is that it’s less about them or their will and more The Rules that take on a life of their own to people.

Something that I’ve learned by watching main fight with itself is that all sins are apparently equal when you’re thinking in black and white. If people follow the rules, they get to be One Of The Good stans and outrun shame and blame and stigma and Ccs won’t hate them immediately. If they’ve been bad, they’re gross and everyone hates them and they deserve the contempt of the entire internet. This isn’t really true because people will treat mcyt stans like trash regardless of how well they’ve behaved (this is not fair) but it’s easier to cope when you think you have a degree of control. I think a lot of Main neurosis comes from trying to claw their way up from the bottom of the barrel without fully knowing that that’s what they’re doing, which is why it gets so much worse when they have the chance of being seen by the ccs.

To be honest I think tntduo fans are locked into a shipwar with a certain other Wilbur pair that people can’t admit would be threatened by him being romantic with someone else. As long as one team gets to play it pure and ‘platonic’ they get moral leverage for why they’re superior and are more correct in what they do. We can bring it back around to each subtwt having its own interests, and advancing those interests by using the morality of Boundary Culture as well as social justice language. A lot of people are trying to get what they want by being More Correct, morally and factually and whatever else they can get their hands on.

From a wider lens the opportunity to get rid of anyone, be better than anyone or call out anyone is hard to pass up on main. It’s baked into the system to push people out to try and control noise, chaos and crowd size, there’s no real room for 'redemption' on there. That, plus the massive anxiety around sexuality made this one an easy target.

#this got long #Hello everyone welcome to the sexuality chapter of the blog I didn’t see this coming either #this one is going under #the sfw fic situation tag #for in some ways being its cousin

[savventeen]

~ savv's writing masterlist ~

{ fic requests are currently on pause as i work on commissions ♡ }

key:

fic [☼] drabble [☽] smau [✧] other [✩] requests/commissions [🜲] ask game fills [♖] 'things you said' prompts [✑] fem!reader* [▽] masc!reader* [△] *all fics have a gender neutral reader unless otherwise indicated

♢ choi seungcheol ♢

[☼] our ending is made for each other ✑ 🜲 ⇰ 1.1k [fluff, humor] ⇰ while at their best friend's wedding, seungcheol brings up the fact that he wants to marry reader someday. reader proceeds to have a little bit of a breakdown (the mostly good kind)

[☼] carmen cygni ⇰ 1.7k [angst, mcd] ⇰ while out searching for supplies, you get bit trying to escape a small hoard of zombies. seungcheol is forced to do the unthinkable.

[☽] you've always had cold hands ⇰ 0.1k [fluff]

[☽] kintsugi ⇰ 0.4k [emotional h/c]

[☼] purple, white, grey, and black ⇰ 2.9k [emotional h/c] ⇰ you're asexual and proud, and have been for a while. so why does seeing ace pride posts sometimes churn something within you? or, the one where reader talks about where/if their asexuality and trauma intersect.

♢ yoon jeonghan ♢

[✩] mr. perfectly fine ♖ ⇰ 0.5k [angst]

[☽] until next time ⇰ 0.3k [emotional hurt/comfort] ⇰ you've never had to say goodbye like this before. jeonghan tells you that maybe you don't have to

♢ joshua hong ♢

[☽] can you guess why they call it fall? ⇰ 0.3k [fluff] ⇰ joshua loves fall and also the reader

[☼] heart is full of fairy lights 🜲 ⇰ 1.3k [fluff] ⇰ you finally return home to your apartment after studying abroad, and your roommate joshua can't seem to let you out of his sight. some potentially maybe-more-than-strictly-platonic feelings are had.

♢ wen junhui ♢

[☽] you haunt my melody ⇰ 0.9k [angst, past mcd] ⇰ once upon a time, wen junhui played the pipe organ for a traveling circus. once upon a time, you were an acrobat. once upon a time, he lost the love of his life in a tragic accident and let his grief consume him. now, you think it's time for him to let you go.

[☽] aye aye, captain ⇰ 0.4k [humor] ⇰ being in love with the captain has its perks, except when he sails the ship into a kraken. (it kind of still feels like a perk, tbh.)

♢ kwon soonyoung ♢

[☼] places we've been torn (i'm always, always yours) 🜲 ⇰ 1k [emotional hurt/comfort] ⇰ you and soonyoung have been lying together for who-knows how long now, going back and forth asking each other about the various scars you both have. the stories have been mostly silly or stupid (or both), but it's as the night is winding down that soonyoung asks about the one scar with a story you're not sure you're ready to share.

♢ jeon wonwoo ♢

[☽] i think i'm going deeper ⇰ 0.8k ⇰ wonwoo escapes his noisy, hectic life for a vacation full of solitude and quiet. it doesn’t go exactly as expected.

[☽] take it easy (slowly carve out my heart) 🜲 ⇰ 0.8k [angst, mcd] ⇰ wonwoo's assignment: become your husband and bide his time until given the command to kill you. a simple mission, really — one that shouldn't have been hard. except, he never accounted for the fact that he might actually fall in love with you. too bad he's the perfect little soldier.

[☽] everything but words ⇰ 0.3k [fluff] ⇰ wonwoo's actions have always spoken louder than words. you finally decide to do something about it.

♢ lee jihoon ♢

[☽] untitled woozi drabble ("jihoon is exhausted") ⇰ 0.5k [fluff]

[☽] mr. sandman, bring me a dream ⇰ 0.8k [emotional hurt/comfort] ⇰ jihoon overworks himself (again) and gets secretly cuddled by reader

[☼] to build a home ⇰ 3.7k [fluff, humor] ⇰ on the train ride back to meet jihoon's parents in person for the first time, you realize you don't really know what it's like to have a childhood home — at least, not in the sense that most people seem to have. but it's okay, because you've found a home in jihoon instead.

[☽] untitled jihoon love language drabble ⇰ 0.3k [fluff]

[✩] woozi + mutual pining (the mixtapes one) ♖ ⇰ 1k [fluff, mild emotional hurt/comfort]

♢ lee seokmin ♢

[☽] untitled dk imagine ⇰ 0.3k [fluff]

[☽] the D in DK stands for Dihydrogen monoxide ⇰ 0.5k [fluff] ⇰ seokmin just wants to make sure you stay hydrated :(

[☽] untitled dk smut [mdni] ⇰ 0.8k [smut] ⇰ you’ve always fallen in love with people’s laughter first.

♢ kim mingyu ♢

[☼] what dreams must feel like ⇰ 1k [emotional hurt/comfort] ⇰ mingyu comforts you after a nightmare

[☼] break the curse, break my heart ✑ 🜲 ⇰ 5.1k [angst, hurt/comfort] ⇰ what's supposed to be a simple hex job turns into something much deadlier, and suddenly the two of you are fighting just to stay alive

[☼] this sad ending needs a chaser ⇰ 1.5k [angst] ⇰ you and mingyu broke up. mingyu's having a hard time moving on.

♢ xu minghao ♢

[☼] you glow pink in the night ▽ ⇰ 1.7k [fluff] ⇰ you and minghao are in a long-distance relationship, and minghao returns to his apartment after meeting you in person for the first time. he finds a surprise you left for him in his luggage

[✧] pretty u ✑ 🜲 ⇰ 1 post (7ss) [fluff] ⇰ seungkwan asks minghao who he thinks the prettiest person in the world is and he answers: you. but how could he say that when he's never seen what you look like?

♢ boo seungkwan ♢

[☽] a rose that blooms in winter ⇰ 0.7k [fluff] ⇰ walking home with you on a snowy winter evening, seungkwan decides to be brave.

[☽] feelin' thorny ⇰ 0.4k [humor] ⇰ florist seungkwan receives a bouquet from his rival — emotions are had

[☼] you say the stupidest (sweetest) things ✑ 🜲 ⇰ 4.5k [fluff, humor] ⇰ you say stupid shit on the best of days, so when seungkwan comes over when you're having a bad bout of insomnia, the last thing he expects to hear from you is an accidental love confession

[✩] seungkwan + marriage of convenience ♖ ⇰ 0.5k [angst, humor]

♢ hansol vernon chwe ♢

[☽] take in the view ⇰ 0.9k [fluff] ⇰ vernon takes reader on a ride on his dragon; it ends up being pretty great

[✩] vernon + bad at art (the project partners one) ♖ ⇰ 0.6k [humor]

♢ lee chan ♢

[☼] got my heart in my feet ('cause they lead me to you) ✑ 🜲 ⇰ 2.4k [emotional hurt/comfort, fluff] ⇰ reader has a bad day, and they unintentionally find themselves falling apart at their best friend chan's door in desperate need of a hug

[✧] .|X| THANKS FOR PLAYING |X|. ⇰ 34 posts [angst, horror, (kinda) mcd] ⇰ finals are finally over, and all you want is to keep yourself entertained on the lonely train ride home since your best friend crush isn't coming with you. you don't expect to find yourself becoming the main character in a horror story.

♢ ot13 ♢

[✩] breviloquent masterlist 🜲 ♖ ⇰ my series of fics that are 50 words or less

[✩] svt as bits of my unfinished poetry ⇰ 0.7k

*updated 2023.09.03*

#svt x reader #svt x you #svt x y/n #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen x y/n #seventeen writing #masterlist #savv writes

[desultory-novice]

 DanganRonpa CAN be scary, I think in particular, the creepily directed "executions", thanks to their uncanny animation style, can shake one up a bit to watch. Although 70% of the time, they are so silly in :cough: execution it douses the horror of what's happening on screen somewhat. (The first game's first execution is generally ranked as the most violent, and that's because it was a holdover from when the game leaned way more into grunge-horror.) A few of the murders lean on the grisly side, but I think most are more shocking than "gross." And then there's the pink blood!

Once you get past all that, DR is a very excellent story of not just :cough: hope (...I know...) but humanity and what it means to face yourself and hopefully, rise above. The characters are forced into a killing game, and the mastermind's goal usually leans (among other things) on painting a really nasty portrait of people. How "easy" it is to get someone to sink to this level where they'll murder people they're supposed to cooperate with or be friends.

But what you come away from in each case, generally, is sympathy and a sense of loss. For the victim and the murderer. DR is unarguablly EXCELLENT at turning you around on characters. Making you hate someone you loved, love someone you hated, or circle right back around to your first impression!

I adore DR for its depiction of how our best qualities WILL find a way to shine through, even in our worst moments. That even the death of a "jerk" is a tragedy, to someone, somewhere. Everyone (?) has a story in DR. The world isn't "black and white" despite the presence of Monobear.

It's honestly uplifting and powerful. Some of the best "death game" stories are, but DR still holds a position near the top for its creativity, wit, and message. (Minus points for some stuff that's pretty uncomfortable across a variety of spectrums, though your mileage will vary on that. And there are a honestly a FEW weak characters across the franchise, I'll admit.)

DanganRonpa V3 is one of my favorite video games of all time though - beating out DR2, which was itself incredibly good. (Although 2's protagonist, Hajime Hinata, remains my favorite DR character, hands down. Hinata's just one of those impactful characters who changed my life in a good way.)

...Btw, the anime adaptation of 1 is generally fine, but Dangan Ronpa 3 (anime series, different from the V3 game) is awful, and it is every "bad" thing you've ever heard about DR. It is unnecessarily violent and mean, relishes in how much humanity sucks, goes against the general care DR treated its characters with till now, relies on deus ex machina and "gotcha" moments instead of clever murder puzzles (and absolutely wastes the premise of borrowing from one of my favorite analog games :grumble grumble:) and doesn't add anything to the story or mythos you couldn't already have figured out on your own. It has ONE good (?) character in it and <spoilers> they don't make it. To me, it also weakens the earlier games in a way I can't even get into without spoilers, but a certain reveal turned one of my other favorite characters into one of my least favorite. Apologies to anyone who likes it for having to make it through that paragraph but... no. I even rewatched it recently and still... no.

...

...Darn it, all this talk about DanganRonpa made me go back and binge watch all Chapter 2 of DR The After. Grah! That trial is SO good it's unfair that DR The After is only a DR fan game/doujin work! (Mind you, a fan game with amazing production values. The VA knock it out of the park! And the writing...!)

The twists and turns. The interplay. The final reveals!

Literally a work I'm willing to wait the additional 5+ years it will probably take to finish. (Though I'd love if we could get to at least the beginning trial portion of Chapter 3 sometime in 2023...? :fingers crossed:)

While I'm talking to myself about a fan game very few have likely experienced, have a 30 second sketch of Hatami, Super High School Level Good Boy.

...And yes, I totally ended this post by sketching a character from a DR fan game instead of someone from the mainline series.

#Dess Text Post #Not Kirby #danganronpa #danganronpa the after #DR the After #Dess Sketch Post #Dangaronpa 3 negativity #I'll write about Kirby x DR later #..For now I just had too many DR feels to share #Apologies to the DR fandom for random Kirby blog in your tags

[pen-observing]

a human myth of red iv

synopsis: your words keep echoing in jade’s mind no matter how he tries to occupy himself. but, unexpectedly - he manages to learn more about you. 

word count: 1.9k warnings: reader’s behaviour might not be fully clear to you in this chapter because its meant to be explored in the next one.

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ]

On his trip back to the Mostro Lounge, Jade took a little detour. It should have been easy enough, rushing back ‘home’ and giving Floyd his oranges but after what had transpired on the street, Jade found it impossible.  

That meeting was anything but simple so how could he just walk away as if nothing happened? He thought about taking a walk on one of the mountains but that would take up too much of his time and seeing you tug the red cotton string until it broke...it meant that he wasn’t in the mood to carefully search for mushrooms.  

Instead, he decided to take a short walk in the park as a nice change of pace. It seemed like a good idea at first but then he noticed that his eyes noticed everything that was red. The balloon a child was carrying, the flowers planted alongside the paths – even the colors of other people’s shirts. That realization just left him with a bitter view so, even if he wanted a change of pace, he ended up back at the Mostro Lounge just a bit late – but early enough to give Floyd his oranges so that his bad mood goes away.

While he was serving the guests; your words kept echoing in his head. He kept clinging onto everything red. For a second, he thought about allowing Floyd to squeeze the Scarabia students when they started complaining about their order.  

It was almost like he was purposefully searching for traces of you. Was this just another way this whole game of fate manifested itself?  

After they closed, Jade was mopping the floors. Usually that is done by some unfortunate idiot who decided to trust Azul too much but this time Jade wanted to do it. Floyd was too busy eating the last orange to notice anything strange in his brother’s behaviour but...’my boyfriend’s birthday’ and ‘i’m sorry’ still kept being replayed in echoes no matter how hard he was scrubbing the floor or trying not to think about it.  

He had a sneaking suspicion that something was off in your tone when you spoke to him but he had no way of grounding it in reality.

He had already asked Azul about his view on soulmates and considering that Floyd was so close, and for some reason so interested in the fruit – Jade decided this was the perfect time to ask his brother’s opinion.  

“Floyd, what would you do if you found your soulmate?”  

He purposefully posed the question in the same way and he didn’t even look at his brother to avoid suspicion.  

“Huuuh?” Floyd dragged it out in the way only he knows how. “Aren’t soulmates the thing from that book Azul gave us?”  

“Yes. I am surprised you remember it.”  

“I simply wouldn’t do anything.”  

That made Jade pause. He knew his brother acted in unexpected ways but surely even this was too much? If he remembered the concept itself that means he was intrigued by it and Jade thought that Floyd would rush and say something about ‘squeezing them forever’.  

“You would do absolutely nothing?”, Jade had to make sure.   “If we are soulmates, do I really have to do anything? I mean, isn’t that like the whole point of the story in the book? We are soulmates so they should love me and neither of us has to change?’  

Ah, that does truly seem like a typical Floyd response. No need to change. If its meant to happen it simply will. His brother did always see things as either black or white.  

“Ohh, now that I think about it in that story the prince and the princess ate this really nice cake!’

Floyd got up and went into the kitchen. Typical.   He also left the orange peel on the counter and Jade had to pick it up. Typical.   But, after Jade left the supplies in their proper place – he heard the door to the lounge open. Not typical. Sure, he hadn’t locked them up yet but he was just about to and all of their customers knew the rules.  

And when he saw you drag your body to the nearest table – without even noticing the fact that no other guests were present – he knew why.  

This was the first time you had ever visited this place so of course you didn’t know the rules. But even worse was the fact that you seemed so unhappy that you didn’t even notice the closed sign.

You were smiling so wide a few hours ago, telling him about how you would be late to your boyfriend’s birthday party – Jade wouldn’t say he was happy about it but he certainly didn’t wish for anything bad to happen.  

Sending you away now would be counterproductive. He was all alone now, so he wouldn’t need to explain why he was breaking the rules he set for someone. Yes, Jade would serve you and figure out what was wrong.  

“Welcome to Mostro Lounge. What would you like to order?”  

When he spoke, he saw you were taken aback and he felt such a strong sense of pity for you. It crashed down on him. Your eyes were so distant and your shoulders tense.  

“Ah, yes. Could I please get one grape—oh! You're that guy from this afternoon!”  

At least you remembered him.  

“Ahh, this is awkward. I came here since I thought I wouldn’t know anyone. If you will excuse me, I’ll just take my leave.”  

The pity he felt for you was still immense. You were clearly upset and it was already so late at night, Jade wouldn’t let you endanger yourself further. When you picked up the gift bag to leave, Jade decided to speak up.  

“Why do you think we know each other?” Good, that question was effective because you stayed in your seat. “Excuse me?”   “Just because we bumped into each other on the street – I wouldn’t say that we know one another. So there really is no reason for you to leave our establishment. I am just a stranger like any other.”  

You were still taken aback so, “I wouldn’t say that’s completely true.” was the best response you could come up with.  

“Oh?” Jade was intrigued.   “If that really is true and we are not complete strangers...what is my name?”  

You couldn’t answer. Jade knew that much. He was playing dirty perhaps, he didn’t know your name either but he knew that this would be enough to convince you. You had let go of the bag handle.  

“You’re right. But I just wanted some time to sit by myself without reminders...of what I had done.”  

What had you done? Why were you so shaken up?  

“If I may,” Jade started to speak while sitting down across from you. “It seems like you’re so bothered by something that you didn’t even notice we are closed.”  

He continued to speak before you could apologize and leave.

“If you really wanted nobody to ask you about what happened, you wouldn’t have come to one of the most popular establishments. Perhaps you were hoping to find someone willing to hear you out.”  

Jade knew that he was talking too much. He knew that he was breaking rules; not just of this establishment but perhaps of the very fate itself but..Floyd had said it – why fear if the soulmates are true? He would put that to the test again.  

Do you tell him what is wrong or do you leave thinking that he is too pushy? Fate will tell.  

Jade’s gaze rested entirely on you, and for that quiet minute – it was fully returned. He saw how your tired eyes grew to be glassy and just as he was about to pity you even more and leave, you spoke.

“I lied! I am such a foolish person.”

You were not crying but it seemed like you were definitely close to that. As if refusing to let him see you weak, you grabbed the giftbag and threw it on the table instead. The poor paper thing wasn’t capable of curing much no matter how angry your moves.  

Jade thought about asking you why you were saying that but instead his gloved hands held up the bag and in an unexpectedly soft voice he told you: “I know.”  

Did he really know? Was this the thing he felt was off today about your interaction? How far was he willing to push this?  

You were calmer now, intrigued. Your eyes were not glossy or tired now – instead they were curious. You were begging him to explain.  

“I am unsure if you believe in coincidences or fate itself but – are you aware of what these flowers mean?”   “What the flowers...mean on the gift bag I bought?”   “Yes. Do you know what they mean?” “I... honestly have no idea.”

This was the perfect distraction.  

“Well, depending on the time and color they can mean many things. Some stories say people were forbidden from picking them. They meant delirium or delusional states. In more modern interpretations they mean both anxiety and serenity. Generally, however, they are considered far from lucky. I am sure I also read they mean dishonesty. Perhaps, coincidence or fate, you were admitting to your own dishonesty when you reached for this bag without realizing it?”  

You looked down at the bag and then up at Jade.  

“All of that, from just some silly lowers on a random bag I chose?” “Ah, so you like to call such things silly. I see.”

Jade could tell that you felt better. Your eyes were clearer and shoulders less tense.  

“And, stranger whose name I still have no pleasure of knowing, you like to think of them as fate?”

Always. Always if they are connected to you. Just you. Perhaps he was the silly one.  

But, you smiled. That was enough.  

He could let you go back to your home now.  

“Jade. This stranger’s name is Jade.” “Well Jade, thank you for seeing through my lie then. I am a foolish person who lied to you about having a boyfriend.”  

It seems both ironic and fitting that Jade’s signature spell befell him. He was used to lying, leaving out the truth and doing whatever it takes to reach his goal.  

But you were so shaken up from saying that one lie? Were soulmates always meant to be this different?  

“Is that so?”  

What Jade doesn’t realize is that there is no more question marks on the word soulmate for him. It has to be you.  

“I am sure you had a good reason for lying to me then.” he also doesn’t realize how freeing it is that you’ve just admitted to not having a boyfriend.  

“You think even gift bags are fate and you are fine being lied to? You’re certainly an interesting person, Jade. I mean, who else acts like that?”

And you coming inside his establishment, not seeing its closed, almost crying and throwing a gift bag and then opening up to your lies before you call him interesting and ask for a grape juice to take home with you - that’s how normal humans act?  

He was learning more and more about humans. And he was learning more about you. Perhaps, the next time he sees you, he won’t be so shaken by all of your attention being on him. So much so, that he forgot to ask for your name again.

a/n: hmmm i feel like this chapter is a bit sucky because i have to explain why reader acts in the next one and i didn’t write in a while because of exams but!! i still hope its somewhat enjoyable.

taglist: 

@zeldaisapuppy @lamentingintheuniverse @crypticbibliophile @mint-moushi @mewchiili @twst-days @otaku-explosion @moonlube  @mikufan56 @missameriko

#twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #jade leech #jade x reader #jade leech x reader #ahmor #not om #not gi

[alfredo-swauce]

Wax Artist and the Fandom

Alright so I have a LOT to unpack right now with Wax Artist as well as the fandom and how they go about treating wax artist mains and the character as a whole. I would like to say before I start that I am black. However I main Wax Artist. I ended up spending like $300 to get his S tier skin, and then everyone found about about the whole Physiognomy bullshit. As someone who doesn't typically have that kind of money anymore, Its tragic HAHAHA like genuinely it sucks. Had I known perhaps I wouldn't have tried to get it. But I digress.

So what's the whole issue here other than Philippe being a racist? Well. I want to bring up a few points in this post about why I think half the shit the fandom says about him is stupid AND why I think attacking his players (who have no control over his story) is ridiculous and childish.

No one is taking an effort to reach out to devs about the psysiognomy. Like how are you gonna tell myself and other wax artist mains to kill ourselves or call us racist for playing a character that we LITERALLY cannot control. I've had like 3 people (including an old friend who said it as a "joke") call me a disgrace to black people for maining him. Yknow how bad that hurts? As someone who's of mixed race and doesn't feel like they fit in anywhere, that shit absolutely sucks.

People are asking for NE to remove Wax Artist from the game as a whole. Now this one, I can understand to an extent. However, many people do not want this. His backstory (MINUS PHYSIOGNOMY) is interesting, certain headcanons make his character so much more fun; like him just being a silly man who makes wax sculptures, etc. His character design is interesting and very pleasing, It really shows his mental and physical decline as well. All characters have some importance in the story, Wax Artists importance is unknown but I bet he plays a bigger part and will somewhere down the line.

Most white characters are likely racist depending on the time period. It's obvious that not everyone who's white in the game is racist, like historically not everyone was. However given the time period of some of these characters, there's a good chance they could potentially be racist. Now of course this doesn't excuse the fact that Wax Artist is problematic, but I feel like in a realistic sense people tend not to think about where these characters are from AND when they were/are alive. Do I want ANY of the characters to be racist? Absolutely not, but I do strongly believe that given the time periods, it wouldn't surprise me if more white characters had some sort of racist ideology that just wasn't brought up yet.

A lot of people aren't even aware of the racist undertone in Wax Artist's story. I have been playing Wax artist for over a year now and the amount of people I've met who don't even know Wax Artist's story is problematic is insane. Like I'll say he's racist and people are like "wait deadass??" It's nuts. I get these sort of encounters nearly everytime I talk to a player. It's important people know about this issue so we can push for change. I haven't seen a single person try to change his backstory and that fucking sucks. I've seen what we can do when we all come together, and this change could be made so quickly if we work together.

Perhaps there are other things that could've been said but these are the main ones that I think about. I GENUINELY believe we could make the change to Wax Artist's story if the fanbase just listens. I've tried countless time to spread the word on Twitter, but that proved to be a fruitless task. I'm hoping that here I could spread the word a bit more in asking that you email NE and ask them to remove physiognomy from his story as a whole, because believe me I 100% believe his story doesn't need this element at all. He could just be a criminologist who makes wax figures. Easy. So please PLEASE help me out here, I've been practically begging for months now and it's getting exhausting.

NE emails:

[email protected]

[email protected]

or preferably you can comment on identity V's posts asking for the removal of physiognomy from his story. From here on out I'm just gonna keep asking for it every chance I get because otherwise they won't listen. My voice alone will not be enough, so please help out!

thank you so much for reading and I hope you consider helping out. This is very important to me and other wax artist enthusiasts.

#identity v #idv wax artist #identity v hunter #idv

[quietwingsinthesky]

for the fic writer asks!!

5, 9, 13, 15, 29?

hi hi aayo!!

[questions were here]

5. So, a while back, I was spitballing with my friends about Pokemon Black/White & the sequel, because I love those games, those are my childhood Pokemon games, and the story is so close to brilliant I can taste it. It would just need a little touching up, I swear, adjust a motivation here, add some more scenes there... But see the thing is, doing that would take. A While. and I just don't think I have the patience to do a full rewrite of a Pokemon game from 2010 so it'll probably remain an idea.

9. Yes! I do! I try to do a few hundred words a day, every day. Depending on how bad my depression is, I can be pretty consistent about it and get a lot done. And I did manage to do a little today for that nsfw lucifer/raphael fic I'm working on! Let's see here. Ahem. "Waiting, a front of perfect obedience betrayed by how hard he’s clenching his hands together behind his back to keep from touching himself." :) I am. doing things. to luci.

13. It depends on the fic. Some of them, I want to say Last Call and could have been anyone, anyone are good examples, start writing themselves in my head with absolutely no warning, and I have to jump to the nearest thing to jot down the sentences before they disappear forever. Others, like Honey, Don't Feed It, have literally been turned over in my brain for more than a year, twisted and changed until I've gotten a fic I actually like out of it.

15. Sometimes it's a song title, sometimes it's a line from the fic, sometimes it's 'it is 4am when im posting it and ive already typed up the fucking tags and the summary and i am so so tired whats the closest noun i can think of' and then i slap it on there and call it a day.

29. asjklajdksld my first thought was 'oh you know what fine i'll post what i had of that samifer fic before it gets deleted but uh It Is Literally Entirely Porn. so lets. lets go with something a little more PG, yeah? Not exactly polite of me to throw smut at you without asking.

So instead, have this bit from the original draft of my next Sarah/Lucifer/Nick fic that got cut because I switched the pov character from Sarah to Nick for. Reasons.

Sarah has had a lot more time to paint in the last few months. Enough that muscle memory she thought lost has slowly reappeared, making her hand steadier. Her art hasn’t become more neat as a result, but it has grown purpose in its mess. Her mother always wished she’d take after her grandmother and paint lush green forests and pretty meadows, but Sarah’s brushes led her down a different path. Intricate strokes litter the paper, testing to see how close she can bring the painting to the being curled around her spine before it devolves into a jumbled mess. Lucifer is not an easy muse. Sarah hasn’t managed to paint a piece that does her justice yet.

This one is barely recognizable as anything, more abstract than Sarah’s committed to in a long time. A lot of her paintings of Lucifer start somewhere she understands, with Nick’s face or her own, fragmented to better show the angel that lives inside them, openings in the skin like bloodless wounds through which eyes and feathers and teeth peek through. Someone else might find them terrifying. Nick thinks her paintings of Lucifer are beautiful. Lucifer, of course, is flattered and amused. She watches Sarah paint, enthralled the same way Nick mentioned her being the day he built Teddy’s crib. She hasn’t asked for a turn at the brushes yet, but Sarah hopes she does one day, if only so they can see what she’s capable of creating.

Sarah stretches. There’s no satisfying pop to her spine as she uncurls from her art, but in exchange, there’s also no lingering soreness from staying in one position for too long. Lucifer’s grace pulses, buried somewhere deep, utterly content. Sarah shuts her eyes as though she could listen to her.

Instead, Sarah hears a cry from the other room. She lets her head tilt towards the clock on the wall. It’s been a while since she put Teddy down for a nap. Lucifer is on alert the moment the sound hits Sarah’s ears. She’s still not used to the simple fact that sometimes, babies cry, and it doesn’t mean the world is about to end. Impossible to fathom wings flex under Sarah’s skin. Sarah suppresses a chuckle into a small smile and sets her paintbrush down. It rolls to join its brethren of various sizes, the only commonality between them all the teethmarks at the tip where Sarah chewed when she got frustrated or distracted. Lucifer’s wings flap, a wave of power rolling through Sarah’s body that’s asking one question, whether they can fly to the nursery rather than take the minute long walk there. Sarah lets her consent echo back through Lucifer, bracing herself.

Flight is a cacophony. Flight is like learning what it is to be a photon and forgetting again as her body hits the ground, human toes curling against the fuzz of the nursery carpet. Lucifer recovers like they’ve taken a brisk walk up the stairs. Sarah needs a minute more, as though she’s been thrown under the waves at the beach and needs to figure out which direction is up in order to stand. In his crib, Teddy turns his head to look at them, brown eyes seeking his mother, and when he knows she’s there to hear him, he scrunches up his face and starts crying again.

It’s Lucifer that takes them the first few steps to the crib, but Sarah who reaches down and picks Teddy up.

“Hey, hey, fussy,” she says softly to him, “shh, we’re here now.” Teddy cries out one more time, like he’s making sure she’s not going to put him down and leave once he’s quiet. Sarah rocks him.

“We’re here,” comes another voice from her mouth, still hesitant but less than it has been in a few months. Lucifer raises Sarah’s hand to pet a line down Teddy’s forehead. There’s no more than the ambient hum of her grace beneath Sarah’s skin, but between being held by his mother and watched over by his guardian devil, (Sarah’s mouth curls at the thought, and she can’t tell if it’s her or Lucifer reacting.) he quiets. He keeps frowning, scrunched up eyes and a wrinkled forehead. “Hello, Theodore,” Lucifer says, and it’s at Sarah’s prodding that she finally says, “Teddy.”

He’s a baby, Sarah teases, no need to be so formal.

Names mean something, comes the quick counter.

And this one means you love him. Lucifer hums, finger still drifting in absent circles over Teddy’s face. Teddy latches onto it when it’s near his mouth, and Lucifer freezes. Sarah laughs, and with control of her body falling back to her, it comes out without a care in the world. Teddy makes a frustrated noise when she pulls her finger away.

“That’s better than you needing a diaper change,” Sarah tells him. Teddy babbles at her, sounds that are beginning to have more distinct shapes but mean nothing at all. She’s going to have to put him back down to undo her button-up, or would have to, only Lucifer proves for the hundredth time how much easier parenting is with divine power backing them up. Sarah shifts Teddy around in her arms, enduring the tiny beat of an impatient hand against her chest, until she has him comfortably settled to feed.

He seems so small in her arms. He’s growing fast and will continue to for years and years, a prospect both terrifying and exciting.

It’s a short enough walk to her and Nick’s bedroom from the nursery, and she’s careful not to jostle Teddy while he nurses. There, she can settle down comfortably against the pillows, the blankets tucking themselves up around her legs despite her not reaching for them. It doesn’t do much against the ever-present chill, but Sarah doesn’t want that to go away. Besides, they bundle Teddy up warmly enough.

She does wonder sometimes what it’ll be like as he gets older. If his first words will be ‘dada’ or ‘mama’ or something else entirely, a string of syllables that seem like gibberish to her and Nick but mimic the language that Lucifer sometimes speaks to him off-handedly, the one that makes Sarah’s ears feel like they might pop from pressure if she listens for too long, the one that Teddy reacts to with kicking feet and responsive babbling. If one day Sarah will get teachers telling her about Teddy’s imaginary angelic friend who raised him, both those impressed that he could come up with something so elaborate and those worried that the angel in question is Lucifer herself. Maybe the funniest thing Sarah can imagine is if Nick ever takes little Teddy to church and what kind of menace they might unleash with a child who loves the devil like a mother. That, if it ever happens, is a long ways off, and until then, Lucifer is still the secret held between the three of them.

“You think he’ll still like me,” Lucifer says, dipping her hand into the stream of Sarah’s thoughts, welcomed but nibbled at by the fish that think she really should have asked permission first. Maybe a little hypocritical when Sarah has already let her in, “when he grows up.”

There is, always, this expectation of rejection that lingers in Lucifer’s words. A surprise when she finds connection instead that breaks Sarah’s heart.

“You look after him. You sing to him. You feed him.” Sarah looks down at Teddy, who takes his fill and rests his tiny fist against her skin. This caretaking is a communal effort, after all. “Of course he’ll love you.”

#ask #and that’s all she wrote aldjfjlshflgl. sorry for the abrupt ending to that snippet. #lucifer/nick/sarah #spn #fanfiction

[ganondorf]

i just think oot is more interesting when you play with the idea that the conflict is from the eyes of two children. is ganondorf pure evil? its a matter of perspective and bias isn't it?

like. i've talked before how link throughout many games is falsely presented to us as a neutral party, someone with little base connection to hyrule at all, but he still gets all of his information from those with tight connections to especially the hylian royal family. zelda in oot, while the princess, is just a child too. she might have heard stories about ganondorf, stories about the gerudo, that then taint her perspective. kids often have very black-and-white thinking; it's easy for things to either be "good" or "bad" to them because they haven't yet learned to lend nuance to their thinking

ganondorf easily can just be a leader of a marginialized people playing a delicate game of war and intrigue. the gerudo in oot are thieves — but WHY are they thieves? people don't tend to steal unless they need something they are lacking; what are the gerudo lacking that they then need to steal from hylians to make up for? but to kids, just "stealing is wrong" is an easy statement to swallow

i'm going somewhere with this but my brain isn't awake enough yet to say anything revolutionary but like u all get it im sure