Tumgik
#but it was fun I think the result is fun :>
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"You can't go around judging people on first impressions. That's how mistakes get made." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Honjin Murders
"The police investigate footprints and look for fingerprints. I take the results of these investigations and by piecing together all the available information logically, I am able to reach a conclusion. Those are my methods of deduction." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Honjin Murders
"The Killer had submitted the problem of a locked room murder and dared us to solve it. It was going to be a battle of wits. Perfect. Challenge accepted! If it was brains and logic and wit that were required, I was ready to do battle." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Honjin Murders
"In our world there are some things so dreadful, so terrifying that you would scarcely believe they existed. They are things that common sense and accepted practice would dictate are impossible, but they do exist. Out of reason... that's right. It's a mad state of affairs." - Yokomizo Seishi, Death on Gokumon Island
"Yet, while his unchanging gratitude and devotion to the priest's family were certainly commendable, Sahei failed to realize that everything - even gratitude - has a limit that should not be exceeded, and that his excessive gratitude toward the Nonomiya family would embroil his own kin in a series of bloody murders after his death." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Inugami Curse
"Thirty years can weave strange patterns in the tapestry of life." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Inugami Curse
"With the blind spot that had been hindering his thought process finally removed, everything had fallen into place for him with great speed. All day yesterday, he had been stacking building blocks of deductive reasoning in his mind, with the result that now he had reproduced the entire complex structure of the mystery." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Inugami Curse
"Were it not for the events that I am about to relate, doubtless my life would have continued in that impoverished, humdrum vein. But one day a spot of red was suddenly split on the grey of my life: I embarked on an adventure of dazzling mystery and stepped into a world of blood-chilling terror." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Village of Eight Graves
"Nothing is more frightening in this world than ignorance and stupidity." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Village of Eight Graves
"The events I am about to describe are filled with such darkness and sadness, are so cursed and hate-filled, that not a word I write can possibly offer the faintest glimmer of hope or relief. Even as the author, I cannot predict what the final sentence will be, but I fear that the relentless dread and darkness that precede it may end up overcoming the readers and crush their very spirits in its grasp." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Devil's Flute Murders
"Everyone here is a bit twisted somehow. All they feel for each other is suspicion, resentment and fear. I couldn't tell you why that is. It's as if they're all just waiting for their chance to stick the knife in. As if they think that if they don't, then they'll be on the other end of the blade." - Yokomizo Seishi, The Devil's Flute Murders
Yokomizo Seishi has also been added to the BSD-Bibliophile Online Library!
You can find more information about Yokomizo-sensei on the following pages: List of Books in English Quotes and Facts Collection Fun Facts Author Connections
358 notes · View notes
mysteryshoptls · 1 day
Text
SSR Leona Kingscholar - Club Wear Voice Lines
Club Wear Leona does not have a vignette.
Tumblr media
When Summoned: Do as I say and I'll give you your just reward: A little thing I know you all love called victory.
Summon Line: 'Kay then, let's get this match started already. Y'know, and be all "sportsmanship-like".
Groooovy!!: There's no such thing as a miraculous win. The strongest, smartest team comes out on top... That's all it is.
Home: Guess I'll go an make light work of 'em.
Home Idle 1: Ruggie's always finding ways to slack off during practice, but he actually does okay during matches. But that's 'cause he just really wants to win.
Home Idle 2: Booing? Wrong, that's just more cheering. It's great hearing all those noisy people shriek just 'cause they're scared by how strong we are.
Home Idle 3: Epel's got the drive and spirit. Sure, he's got potential, 'cept he's just not that good at remembering the more complicated strategies... Geez.
Home Idle - Login: There's a lot to learn even from losing a match...? What fanciful crud. Results are what matter. There's no point in not winning.
Home Idle - Groovy: You can watch if you want, but... I ain't gonna listen to any complaining if you get hit by a disc or some stray magic bolt.
Home Tap 1: Flying ain't hard at all. All 'cause some fussy hoity-toity chamberlain forced onto me everything he knew.
Home Tap 2: Magical Shift is a sport that requires a ton of strategic thinking. Sometimes tactics need to be switched up on the fly based on the current state of the game... And coming up with those maneuvers are what makes this fun.
Home Tap 3: Only the team captain wears this longer-style jacket. Makes it easier for everyone to know who the boss is, don't it?
Home Tap 4: My brother considers Magical Shift to just be a national pastime. Even though I think it'd make a great resource for tourism if we could put together an elite team for the world league.
Home Tap 5: Shouldn't I go watch the team practice? Listen, our regimen prizes each team member's initiative for self-improvement above all else. Yaaaaawn...
Home Tap - Groovy: Don't bother cheering during the game. It'd be better if you could just keep a tight hold on Grim. He's an eyesore, always jumping around.
Duo: [LEONA]: Epel, just do what I tell you. [EPEL]: Leave it all to me, Leona-san!
Tumblr media
Requested by @farfalla049.
338 notes · View notes
ovaryacted · 2 days
Text
I'm drowsy off of allergy medicine so I wrote this and I'm not sorry about it. Anyways goodnight.
MDNI/18+. NSFW. | CW: blowjobs cause yeah
It was supposed to be a simple meet-up for scheduled tennis practice, a part of your daily routine with the Art Donaldson. He seemed rather laid back compared to how he plays, his signature spike and tick along with his cute grunts on the court did enough to make your imagination run wild.
You’ve seen him several times during practice, sitting out on the bleachers to spectate like others who would take space alongside you. He’s certainly getting better, his backhand was more forceful past the second set and his footing was quicker. Intrigued, you felt your curiosity grow as you walked up towards him after training, asking for his number and seeking more of his expertise.
“Oh me? You sure you want me training you?”
“Why wouldn’t I want you to train me? You’re good, you have the skill, plus you’re fun to watch”
That was what he initially told you then, soft eyes staring back into yours and that cheeky smile growing wider on his face at the compliment. It was a slow process, weaving yourself into his life all in the name of sportsmanship. He didn’t need to know your ulterior motive, you’re sure he wouldn’t complain if he knew what the end result was. It will work out for both of you in the long run, he gets the recognition he’s always wanted, and you finally get your hands on something worth your attention.
You knew your plan would work, though you didn’t expect it to come to fruition so quickly.
“Fuck”, the blonde groaned above you, the end of his red Stanford cap almost falling off the top of his head from how he craned his neck back. There you were, on your knees still in your white tennis skirt with your mouth working lavishly over his cock, his token of appreciation for being so good to you during your tennis lessons. Ideally, you would’ve wanted to enjoy him in the privacy of your dorm room, but the empty locker rooms worked just as well.
You hummed around his length happily, his hand coming to hold your jaw softly as he let you do the work. Art couldn’t help but stare down at you again, a grin plastered over his features to take in the view below him. Tongue lapping around his cock, your swollen and spit-covered lips were stuck in a consistent push-and-pull rhythm, working over him until your jaw grew sore. He tried to hide the whimper that was creeping up in his throat, but the moment your free hand went to caress his balls you forced it out of him anyway.
“Greedy huh?”, Art said, his cheeks were flushed down to his neck and sweat ran down his temple. You drew away from him to catch a breath, pumping him with your wrist.
“I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I came to get my prize for beating you last time”, the smirk you wore was enough to make Art’s body pulse, hissing when your thumb ran over his sensitive slit, dragging further down with an audible shlick.
“Don’t let me stop you then”, his heart was pounding in his chest, beating hard against his ribcage with every firm pump of your hand.
You gave the tip of his cock a teasing kiss before wrapping your mouth around him again, taking him as deep as he would go. He was hitting the back of your throat, gagging around him before tugging away to do it again and again. Stabilizing yourself with one hand on his shaking thigh, your neck strained with the pace you set yourself to make sure he reached the edge. By the looks of how his fingers were digging into your scalp and his hips were starting to bump into your face to chase your warmth, he wasn’t too far off.
This was your reward, and you weren’t leaving until you got what you wanted.
180 notes · View notes
b0r3dtod3ath · 1 day
Note
Hello hi!
Can you do a challengers fic?
Art x reader, where he and reader had a flirty relationship but he started to experiment with tashi and patrick and she was like "well, it happens" but the trio didnt work out so he tried to recandle that dinamic between him and reader but she lost all the atraction to him.
(lots of groveling)
Thank you!
Tumblr media
Thank you for the request!
Warnings: Mention of an injury, curse words. 
You and Art have been friends since middle school and since then he was always by your side. Your shared interest in tennis and joint decision about applying to Stanford resulted in you two being inseparable best friends. Well, maybe not really. Your relationship was quite hard to describe. People constantly mistook you for a couple but in reality you were just really close. Sure, there were a lot of flirtatious moments, some may even say romantic, but you never thought about it too deeply, thinking that it’s just the way Art is. 
Each morning he knocked vigorously on your dorm room door. “You need to wake up! We need to go.” The sight that he sees when you open the door always makes his heart skip a beat. Messy hair and a toothbrush in your mouth give him a glimpse of what it would be like if he was living with you. “Good morning!” He gives you a beautiful smile as he hands you a coffee in your favorite thermos. He insists on doing it because “it saves time in the morning as he’s up anyways”. Oh and also when you finish he takes the cup back to clean it so he doesn't bother you in the morning. His friend Patrick has always made fun of him for those small gestures but he recently got a girlfriend so he’s busy. Actually, you have heard of Tashi. She attends your school and you were supposed to play against her in a local tournament. You have heard that she’s really good but people also always point out your skills.
You head to the canteen, sipping your coffee as Art tells you about Patrick’s new girlfriend. It’s not like you are jealous but hearing your male best friend ramble about another girl is weird. You keep quiet, after all there was nothing romantic between you two. You eat your breakfast without saying much which goes unnoticed to your friend. He stops eating, looking at your face for a moment, trying to figure out what’s going on in your mind “I saw they had watermelon in the fruit section. I can bring it for you if you want. Did something happen? You know you can always talk to me. I will always be there for you.” The gentle tone in his voice almost feels like he is talking to a lost child, scared to make you withdraw. “No, no. It’s fine. I’m just a bit less confident about the next match. You know, after what happened a few days ago, my leg still sometimes cramps up a bit.” you halfy make up a lie. You were stressed about the match but it had nothing to do with your calf. “You should have told me earlier. I will massage it before we train today. You are going to do amazing".
He didn’t listen to your begging not to knead your muscle so you ended up with him rubbing it firmly enough to “help you” but gently enough not to hurt you. As you trained he could sense your frustration. Sure, it made you more confident on the court as you transferred your anger into each fore and backhand. Then suddenly you stop. Your opponent gives you a confused look as you out of the blue ignore the ball. “I don’t feel well. I’m gonna call it quits. I have a test tomorrow anyway that I should study for. I can’t be hitting a ball with a racket my whole life.” you look at him, his expression as shocked as a moment ago. “See you in the evening?” You two usually had some evening tennis sessions or just went for some walks as there were not many people around that time and you could freely chat about anything. “Well. I can’t actually make it today. I’m really sorry. Patrick invited me for some drinks. He wants me to meet Tashi”. His eyes looked like they belonged to a puppy. “Oh, yea. I mean. That’s fine. See you tomorrow then.” you say without giving him the usual light hug as a goodbye.
The following morning Art didn’t knock on your door. You assumed he must have been tired from the day before but it still felt unusual. You decided to push it aside and focus on yourself and your preparations to play against Tashi. The match started at 2 pm so you still had some time to get ready. You followed your usual routine with only one exception - your regular companion. 
The tennis court simmered under the midday sun, a gentle breeze whispered through the air, carrying a promise of an intense match. It was one of the most anticipated matches of the season on the Stanford campus. It was the end of a debate of who is the best tennis player among students but most importantly it was evidence of passion for sports and competition. You looked at Tashi coming on the court, getting a bigger applause than you did. You didn’t let it bother you, it didn’t matter who was the fan favorite, it mattered who was better. You were first to serve. Silence established itself on the court, a neon yellow ball bounced a few times between your hand and the ground. You looked deeply into your opponent’s eyes. It wasn’t a game of tennis, it was a battle for dominance. 
A thunderous serve from you, the ball sliced through the air with precision. Tashi returned it with equal force, the ball skimming just inches above the net. Back and forth you played, each stroke a testament to your skill and determination. The crowd watched in silence, fully immersed in the spectacle unfolding before them. As the match wore on, the intensity only seemed to grow. Tashi unleashed a powerful forehand, sending the ball to the other side of the net. But you were quick to react, sprinting across the court with lightning speed to return it with a perfectly executed backhand. The crowd erupted into applause, recognizing the sheer athleticism on display.  The game continued in this fashion, each player refusing to give an inch. Your muscles burned like they were on fire as you chased down every shot, your mind focused solely on victory. On letting her know who Art belongs to. 
Then, in a heartbeat, disaster struck. As Tashi ran to return a particularly fierce shot, her foot slipped. Time seemed to slow as she stumbled forward, her knee buckling beneath her weight. With a sharp cry of pain, she collapsed to the ground, clutching her injured leg. She started crying like a hurt animal, unable to think what people thought of her. You stood there in pure shock, unsure of what to do. In the corner of your eye you saw Art running up to her and trying to calm her down. 
You felt really bad for her. Not liking her didn’t mean you were happy for her injury. After asking the medical team about her, you got to know that she’s waiting for an ambulance. When you found her, your heart immediately dropped at the sight of Art holding her hand. “I just wanted to say, I’m so sorry it happened, I-” you started to apologize, “Out! Out! Out!” she screamed at you “But-” you tried to say something but Art stood up “Get the fuck out!”. He had never raised his voice towards you. He was always your gentle, soft, good boy. You silently walked away as hot tears rolled on your cheeks. The echo of your sobs filled your room for the whole night. 
Tumblr media
For the next few weeks you didn’t see Art. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to see him, you did actually, but he was always accompanied by Tashi or Patrick. It did make you feel a bit lonely but you focused on training and improving. You actually started to do really well and moved up the rank. Despite an opportunity to get an apartment you stayed at Stanford. You told everyone that you would feel lonely living alone, but the truth was you just didn’t want to leave Art. He would still sometimes catch your glimpse across the canteen or the training hall but no words were exchanged. 
He found you one evening, your silhouette illuminated by the artificial glow of the light. You were alone, your movements fluid yet tense as you practiced your strokes with precision. Taking a deep breath, Art approached you cautiously, unsure of how you would react to his presence. "Hey" he said softly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. You turned to face him, your expression stone cold. You said nothing. A hint of bitterness in your eyes. "I-I just wanted to see how you were doing," he said, his words stumbling over each other in his nervousness. "What do you want?" you snapped, you tone sharp and cutting. Determination glinting in his eyes. "I saw you playing alone, and I thought... maybe you could use a partner," he offered hesitantly. You scoffed, your grip on the racquet tightening as you glared at him. "And why would I want to play with you?". Art took a step closer, his gaze unwavering as he met your overwhelming stare. "Because I miss playing with you, I miss you" he admitted softly. "And because I'm sorry. Truly sorry for what I did." You hesitated for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you considered his offer. “Don’t you have to take care of your little Tashi’s leg?” you said under your nose. "Fine. But don't expect too much" you warned.  
As you began to play, your movements were sharp and precise, your shots landing with deadly accuracy. Art did his best to keep up, but he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach. You had always been better than him but he could sense something else. After all, tennis was the most intimate out of all sports. Suddenly, you unleashed a powerful forehand that sailed towards Art with an alarming speed. Instinctively, he raised his racket to block the shot, but it ricocheted off the strings with a resounding thud, leaving him staggering backwards. "Are you trying to kill me or something?" he exclaimed, his heart racing as he moved closer to the net. You turned around -  a little habit you gained, you never looked at your opponent after scoring a point. "Maybe," you replied nonchalantly, your tone betraying a hint of amusement. Art chuckled nervously, rubbing his sore arm where the ball had made contact, as he got closer and closer to you. "Well, you can kill me if you want," he offered, making you chuckle. He reached to touch your hand, his expression pleading, as you turned. "Please. I know I messed up, but I can't stand not having you in my life. I... I have feelings for you. And I need you to know that. I don’t see you as just a friend." You felt your heart skip a beat at his confession, your breath catching in your throat. You had suspected as much, but hearing him say the words out loud sent a jolt of electricity through your veins. "I... I don't know, Art” you responded, torn between the anger still simmering inside you and the warmth of his words. "You ditched me for her. "Art nodded, his eyes brimming with regret. "I know. And I'm so sorry. I was weak and I thought you would never look at me the same way I look at you. I'll do anything to make it right, I swear." he got on his knees, both hands holding yours. “I will never leave your side, I will show you how much I love you and I will buy you this diamond bracelet you always wanted.” You chuckled “Art, get up. I don’t need a bracelet from you. I will give this a chance.” A smile broke across Art’s face, relief flooding his features as he reached out to wrap you in a tight embrace. "Thank you, I promise, you won't regret this." he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and eyes wet with tears. You returned the hug. The two of you swayed for a moment before you broke the silence with your dead serious tone. “Never raise your voice at me again, understand?” He looked deeply in your eyes. “Understood, maam. I’m incredibly sorry”.
April 29, 2024
227 notes · View notes
icyg4l · 20 hours
Text
PAC: May 2024 Predictions
Hello beautiful people! Later on this week, I will have a Five Dollar Friday Sale where any topic can be talked about. Please refer to my guidelines if you are interested in booking with me! Today, I will be giving you all some predictions about the upcoming month. I hope that those who resonate will continue to support me. For those of you who have been supporting me, I thank you. Without further ado, please select the quote that resonates with you.
Left-to-Right: (1-3)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pile One: I am getting Taurus energy from this pile. I feel like you are going to be walking away from a situation that no longer serves you in May. It's going to hurt. But on the bright side, at least you are done with that chapter in your life. I feel like you are inviting new energy into your life though. It feels lively. I think that you need to be careful though if you go out to a hookah bar, or just go out into the nightlife in general. I am seeing that you will be going to a cookout. I am seeing the image of a thermometer's heat rising. I feel like you may have tension with someone that's super thick, lol. All in all, I feel that this month for you will determine the theme of this summer for you all. You got your wings, you've been promoted! It may be hard to focus on the positives because of your circumstances but you will survive. This month will feel weird because it’s like your on two ends of the spectrum. One part is good and the other is gone to shit, but all will work in your favor boo! See the good in life.
Cards Used: Page of Cups, Queen of Discs, Ace of Cups, 5 of Discs, The World, 10 of Swords, Justice.
extras: arrogance. cheap labor. pennyslvania. slabs. coney island. sweet! livelihood. perfume. body shapewear. antisocial club.
Pile Two: Idk why but your energy reminds me of Natalie Nunn lol. Not the messy parts but the part about her where she's unintentionally funny and fun to be around. Your energy feels very much party girl, I could easily get in this section if I wanted to type of vibe. Anyway, I think that you are going to be strengthening some platonic connections that you already have. But I also think that you're going to cut someone loose --- someone who has been around for a while. The name Harold comes to mind. Have you eaten Harold's Chicken as of recently, lol? I think that you're going to have sharper instincts as a result. You're going to see people for who they are. I am seeing the image of a butterfly flying on someone's nose. You will be growing up in the month of May. There is an emphasis on meditation. You're being called to devoting your time to staying in the present. You're being asked to go within and get more introspective. Also, cut back on the refined sugars. I think you'll be listening to Amaraae and Solange more often this month as well.
Cards Used: King of Cups, 3 of Cups, Strength, Death, King of Swords, The Hermit, Prince of Discs, 2 of Swords, The Lovers.
extras: big eyes. blonde hair. shapely. wiz khalifa. stunna shades. "i ain't going nowhere." "get comfy." gloomy. rainbow tips.
Pile Three: Someone in this pile is going to be reuniting with their family at a prom sendoff, at a graduation, a party. Either way, it will be a celebration. This pile will also be very grateful in the month of May. You are also going to have many opportunities to make quick money with the people that you love (not necessarily family but anyone that makes you feel safe). A love opportunity will be coming through for you as well. I don't see this as something you should take serious. I think you want to be independent right now, that person understands and they will give you your space for the time being. If you're trying to curate an event, don't worry too much about what people will think because it's going to be a big turnout regardless. I think some of you will be going to a wedding or will be getting married. So, congratulations to that! I also think that some of you will be meeting your future spouses in this pile (you won't know it yet though). Overall, I feel that this month is a great month for you to focus on community building.
Cards Used: The Emperor, The Hierophant, 9 of Swords, King of Wands, Justice, 3 of Discs, 8 of Wands, 4 of Wands, Ace of Cups.
extras: entrepreneurial spirit. aquamarine. blue butterflies. single father. "something cute, something for the summertime."
101 notes · View notes
nerdierholler · 3 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
IT'S DONE! I made a book! I never thought I'd ever be able to make a book. Sure mistakes were made but it was still a fun process and I learned so much from making this first one.
This a binding of The Wayhaven Chronicles IF but with my personal Detective's choices included and the resulting text smoothed out to read more like a novel.
Honestly, I thought something like this would be way beyond my skill set but it wasn't as scary as I thought once I got started. Definitely check out @renegadeguild for some book making and typesetting guides and their discord is super friendly and helpful as well.
If you want to learn from my mistakes I'll go into some trials and tribulations under the cut.
I'm not sure how well this book will hold up long term but that's ok! It was more about learning and I'll make some adjustments and try again with the same text probably.
Typsetting
Margins - need to make them bigger. I mostly read paperbacks so I was going for that format with narrower margins but then when I ran into paper problems, I didn't have a ton of room for trimming.
There was an option on the imposer to add dotted lines to the center fold and I clicked that but they're visible still even after binding. Could be that I needed to sew my signatures tighter and that would help but regardless I don't think I need them in the future so I'll be skipping that feature.
The font was intentionally small, along with the margins, because I was trying to minimize the number of signatures I was dealing with for a first project. I'll bump it up in the future.
Paper (so much wrong)
So the grain should run parallel to the spine but I couldn't find short grain paper. I read at some point that someone recommended using sketch books instead because that should be the right grain. It was not, at least not what I bought, so it still ended up going the wrong way.
The sketch note book I bought had perforated pages. It made them easy to get out but I didn't realize that the page widths were inconsistent until everything was printed out. The paper width varied by at least 1/8 of an inch. I wasn't planning on trimming my pages but my top was super uneven because of this so an attempt at trimming was made. It could have gone worse (there was no blood) but the trimming could have been a lot better too.
Should have just used printer paper. The results would have been the same.
Making Book Cloth
Used the Heat and Bond method with some spare fabric and it worked pretty well. The problem was when it came to adding backing. I'd read tissue paper or even plain paper so I grabbed some piecing paper that was close at hand. That was a mistake. It was good quality fabric so it was thicker already and the paper backing made it too thick. I could barely fold it over and it kept wanting to flip up. It's the spine fabric and I'm still concern it's going to do this in the future.
Used tissue paper for the marbled looking fabric and it was much easier to work with.
Book Board
Not measuring right was all on me. The rice box worked in a pinch but I think it will be prone to bending. Got me the experience I needed be wouldn't be my go-to material for a project of this size.
Glue
I used Elmer's All Purpose and it got the job done but, again, probably not going to hold up the best long term. However, I'm glad I didn't buy PVA and basically waste it on this project. Elmer's was good and cheap enough for practice. I'll be getting some PVA for future projects.
83 notes · View notes
meliohy · 3 days
Text
Tumblr media
Art nouveau Eliza
Ref under the cut
Tumblr media
26 notes · View notes
Note
Hello dearest kitty, I'm here begging on my knees for some fluff
Okay okay I'll stop, but it was a funny start especially after your least post, but I really love your writing and I would love to see you write some sub villain X dom hero fluff, about self care and maybe a little bit on self harm cuz I have exams and this is my comfort trope.
But regardless if you write it or not I want you to know that I really appreciate all your work and I it makes such a huge difference in my life, you're one of the people I can look at and be happy 😁💖
tw mention of self-harm
“This is…nice.” The villain frowned and hugged their own legs, almost as if they had never been in a bathtub before. Still tired, they leaned against the tiles of the bathroom wall. All the hero could focus on were their lashes when they closed their eyes.
Admittedly, the hero hadn’t considered this to be the result. They hadn’t expected to end up in bed with their nemesis. It would have been easier if this was part of a mission, they reckoned. But fate was much crueler.
Now feelings were involved. Complicated, difficult feelings. Sometimes they didn’t know if they should blame themselves or the villain. After all, the villain was devoted and passionate. They were tactical and brilliant.
And they were also pretty. Ridiculously pretty.
The hero swallowed.
Why was this happening to them out of all people?
“I don’t think anyone has ever made that kind of effort for me,” the villain said. They smiled and the hero’s heart dropped.
“You mean letting in some water?”
“Well, yeah…and the breakfast. The soft kisses. The massages, you know?” The villain looked at the hero again. “No one has ever done that for me.”
For the hero’s taste, they were too far away from each other. Even though the bathtub wasn’t the biggest, the hero didn’t want to sit on opposite ends. They worried their bottom lip between their teeth.
“Can you come closer?” they asked and the villain nodded, obeying quickly.
The hero let out a shaky breath they didn’t even know they were holding once the villain sat down on their hips. At this point, it was like a drug. The hero craved this affection and these hands on their skin.
It wasn’t just pleasure, it was something more vile. Something that could bleed and die, something that could destroy the hero within seconds.
A few hours ago, they hadn’t realised it. Not really. But now that they knew they weren’t just attracted to the villain, they needed to control themselves.
“You know you deserve it, right?” they asked. The villain didn’t meet their eyes, though. “You deserve nice things.”
“Is this a separating-work-and-personal-life-thing? Because we both know I’ve done despicable things in the past.” The villain looked ashamed. They let their thumb run along the hero’s biceps, almost as if they could distract themselves that way.
“No. I like you the way you are. Even the parts you deem ugly.” The hero touched the scars the villain had tried to hide yesterday gently. They couldn’t stop looking at their nemesis. At their perfect face, their perfect body. The hero wasn’t sure why their melancholy was taking over the now.
Yesterday, they’d been laughing and kissing. They’d never had that much fun in quite a while. But now, responsibility weighed heavy on their shoulders again and they couldn’t bear the feeling of saying goodbye in a few hours.
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“Have I ever been dishonest with you?” the hero asked. Brilliance wasn’t a gift. It was the result of hard work and the hero could appreciate and respect that the villain had been working just as much as they had. Both were the same in that aspect, destroying themselves because that seemed to be logical: working until you had results. No failing, no mistakes. 100%. All the time.
The villain smiled softly. Maybe even sadly.
“When you told me you love me yesterday?” they asked quietly but the hero already shook their head.
“No, that wasn’t a lie.” Their finger traced one of the villain’s scars. Somehow, the bathwater was getting hotter and hotter. The hero closed their eyes as they tried to calm down. “You’re lovely.”
It was only natural, wasn’t it? To be attracted to someone who challenged, yet matched them in so many ways? God, the hero was really at the end of their rope.
“Hm. You know, under all these layers—” the villain touched their chest “—of calculated and raw reason—” they drew a heart with their finger into the hero’s skin “—there’s a very gentle soul inside you.”
“Is that criticism or a compliment?” the hero asked. Again, looking at the villain made their stomach turn. In a good way. Kind of.
Their nemesis smiled.
“Just an observation,” the villain said. They leaned forward and kissed the hero’s cheek. “Thank you for taking care of me. I kinda suck at it.”
The hero’s hand was still on the villain’s scars.
“You just need a little bit of help, that’s all. Everyone does.” The villain was still so close. If the hero moved their head a little, they’d be kissing.
Hell, why was their heart beating so fast?
“Do you think I could be better?” the villain asked. “Do you think I could change?”
“Change is inevitable,” the hero explained. “But I…I got you.”
They held onto the villain a little tighter this time and honestly, they knew why their heart ached when they brought them home.
96 notes · View notes
Note
AITA for initiating pvp in my d&d game?
[tw: fictional cannibalism]
so, this is kind of about something that i ALMOST did but backed out of, but i regret not doing it because i think it couldve been good both strategically and for roleplay fodder, but the reason i backed out was because i was worried it would be an asshole move. there's been other similar stuff that i did actually commit to, so i'll talk about that too.
for context, I'm playing Curse of Strahd with an internet group who i dont really know very well outside of dnd. ive played with all the people in the group before, but just in oneshots. we dont really chat much outside the game.
my character is a dhampir barabarian who is chaotic evil because she. uh. well she eats people. she's the only evil PC in the party, and i've been very conscious of that fact because i dont want to be That Player that completely ruins everyone else's fun by being a rampaging murderhobo. (for those who dont know CoS is a horror campaign that has a lot of fucked up violent stuff in it, so this is not extremely out of place for the setting. one of the other party members is also undead, but hes good-aligned.)
some of the stuff that has actually happened has included my character sneaking away from the party to feed on a random villager (she was followed by another party member) and also trying to eat the corpse of a guy we let die in order to save ourselves. i dont think this was assholey of me because the "pvp" in those situations amounted to slapfights and ic arguing, which i think was good roleplay. i also recently attacked a party member during combat, because my character was raging (heightened emotional state) and he basically triggered her while they were fighting side by side so she lashed out at him. the attack was a bite (potential max damage of like 6) rather than with her weapon (potential max damage of 14) but it missed anyway.
which brings me to the thing i didnt do, but wish i did.
basically, we were fighting some vampire spawn and it wasnt looking good for us. our frontline fighters (myself included) were low on hp, our cleric was being menaced by Strahd himself, and our warlock was unconscious. iirc there were two spawn left to kill when i realized i could do something beneficial to myself with no MECHANICAL cost to the party, but i was worried (ooc) that doing this would have unexpected consequences or make the other players not want to play with me anymore.
our unconscious warlock had been stabilized with Spare the Dying, so he was unconscious but not making death saving throws. being a dhampir, my character has the ability to bite a humanoid and regain hp equal to the damage caused. i hadnt been able to use this ability on these enemies, because it doesnt work on undead. but our warlock is laid out all unconscious and looking like a snack... if i had bitten him, it would have automatically been a critical hit and done double damage, therefore also healing me more, and although it would have caused him to lose two death saving throws, he was technically stable at that point. idk. the dm might have ruled that taking new damage would have restarted death saving throws, but i dont know that for sure. it seemed like a very slim chance that doing this would have resulted in the character's death, but i didnt want to take the chance because i KNOW that would have for sure made me the asshole.
tell me, tumblr. did i do the right thing by choosing not to attack my fallen camrade even though it would have healed my character? would i have been the asshole for initiating that kind of pvp without asking the other player first?
55 notes · View notes
batmanisagatewaydrug · 23 hours
Note
is it. like. a problem if i can't orgasm/never have?
hi anon,
well. that depends.
if you can't orgasm as a result of some kind of reproductive health problem, complications caused by other health issues, hormonal imbalances, or mental health issues, then yeah, your lack of orgasms can probably safely be considered a symptom of a larger issue that deserves care and treatment.
sometimes people experience a decreased range of sexual pleasure because of certain medications. if this is the case, it's very likely that you can have a chat with your healthcare provider about adjusting your prescription to try to be a little more cum-friendly.
if you're not having orgasms because sex is a deeply unpleasant experience for you and your partner or partners are consistently failing to give a shit about you and what you want out of sex, then that's also a problem, which can be solved by throwing the whole partner in the trash or, if you're feeling generous, having a very firm talk about what you want and need from sex.
now, here's the big one: if, in the absence of all of these other circumstances, you're having a lovely time jacking off alone and/or having partnered sex that's totally rad and you are just incidentally not having an orgasm, that's actually pretty fine.
lots of people have a hard time having an orgasm, especially with a partner, and you actually don't have to give a shit about it if you don't want to. I've told almost every sexual partner I've ever that they're probably not going to make me finish and that it's completely fine by me, because the fun part of sex is actually everything else leading up to that. it's an optional flourish at the end, just one hyper-specific little muscle spasm that doesn't make or break any sexual encounter. the fastest way to make sure sex is zero fun is wondering why your body isn't reacting exactly the way you think it should, which historically very few bodies have ever done, ever. mechanically, it's not really any different than a sneeze. for the love of god, don't let that define your sex life for you.
so. up to you to figure out which of these, if any, are relevant to you, and if it's a problem.
60 notes · View notes
disabled-dean · 3 days
Note
...what did misha do this time?
Tldr he's not being normal about gay people but also telling us he's an ally with the biggest, wettest eyes.
No it's part of the con thing where it seems like he's kind of split down the middle with giving thoughtful, earnest responses about destiel and queer baiting, and making jokes about how he and Jensen couldn't actually film any content because Jensen's dick would get hard about it. Which is. Uh. Not a punchline.
But it is also an insane way to fumble the opportunity to show how much of an ally to queer rights and queer rep he can be.
It's hitting people different, but as a bisexual "man" personally I'm like, you know what actually I am more interested in hearing about how Misha, as a straight man and ally to the queer community, would navigate filming an intimate love scene with a close male friend. Particularly after years of push pull between queerbaiting and homophobia from the network, and the way that that has probably affected their experiences on the show and their relationship with eachother. That's an interesting challenge to conceptualize for an actor, and it's an opportunity for him to be totally normal about this question and answer it the way he would if his costar was a woman.
Because the jokes *can* sort of throw a wink to the audience like, I get it I'm in on the joke, I'm cool with gay stuff, and a lot of people do just take them as fun and silly, but it's very much also behaving like real life homosexuality is not within the circle of "normal".
Imagine if Misha Collins was answering a question about filming a kiss with- let's say Daneel- and his response was something like, "oh Daneel couldn't handle that because everytime we hug her p*ssy gets wet (insane thing to type. Insane thing to say). AND he said it on stage at a convention- it would come off as a super not normal response to that question.
So it's like, "othering", right? This idea we have in dynamics of privilege and power where some people are on the inside of the circle and some people are on the outside. And joking about that does acknowledge the outside, and it's better then being like, "fuck those homos", but its not the same thing as representing queer people as like, people. To show like, I can answer this question in a normal was because queer experiences are normal.
But taking it in this other direction, of like, humor and shock value. Sure it makes Misha Collins trend and we have fun on the internet about it, but it also contributes to this very widespread and still growing belief that being queer is different. It's illiciate. It's titillating.
And the joke specifically about like, I can't film a scene with Jenses because his dick would get hard, sure a lot of us hear that and are like, "haha cockles" or "haha cockles (platonic) and we give Misha a lot of leeway because it *feels* like he's giving us representation with that, but what he is actually saying, what people who do not think "haha cockles" are hearing is, "I cannot film an intimate scene with my male co star because his dick would get hard about it (derogatory)" which unfortunately is like a pretty straight shot towards gay panic laws and shit like that.
Do I think Misha personally believes that using someone's sexuality is a justifiable defense for manslaughter? Absolutely the fuck not. But I also believe that he's smart and informed enough to make those connections himself. To he able to see how, on a larger scale, saying that your coworker getting a boner is a reason not to do a scene with him, feeds into homophobic propaganda that results in real life violence towards gay people, interpersonally and legislatively. And I think he's informed enough to see that, on a small scale, it just kind of puts us seperate from him, whether or not we think that's endearing or funny.
For someone who has demonstrated a knowledge of allyship over his career through the queer campaigns he champions and donates to, the way he's spoken out against homophobia and against the blacklisting and queer baiting of destiel particularly, AND in saying he was "sick to his stomach" at the thought of co-opting the struggles of the queer community by accidentally coming out as bisexual, I think he's definitely falling prey to the desire to grab onto the spotlight instead of consciously acting in the best interest of the community consistently.
And does he need to do that? No. Unfortunately, no actor has to. But he's *telling* us that he is, which raises the bar for him in a way he isn't passing. Because he actually *is* sort of co-opting queer spaces, and what he's saying is, "Ew, gross. Penis."
65 notes · View notes
anemoiashifts · 1 day
Text
mental health check-in for reality shifting.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.
as we all know, reality shifting is generally neural thing but tends to be glorified & romanized by a select few due to people wanting to have a better situation or a more desirable life.
that in itself is totally fine but this post is created with the intent to make sure the community has a healthy relationship with shifting & if not possible solutions.
if mental health is left unchecked it can lead to destructive behaviors & can worsen preexisting mental health concerns. for me personally, that’s not what shifting is about. you can learn about yourself & grow without even shifting. the expansion of your perspective & becoming more empathetic to yourself is something i believe is extremely important.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.
♡ how often do you think about shifting ?
while it’s fun to daydream & think about your desired reality — does it consume your life or take away from other tasks that need to get done in this reality? if you’re somebody who has maladaptive daydreaming disorder (like myself!) it can exacerbate the fantasy-like aspect of thinking about shifting.
if you’re someone whose mind wanders a lot do something productive. this could be finishing some homework that you’ve been putting off for a long time or rearranging your bedroom. stuff like partaking in hobbies while listening to youtube videos in the background may help too.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.
♡ why are you shifting ?
is it because you’re searching for something bigger ? maybe you’re looking for friends ? while you probably aren’t going to be able to meet your favorite characters here, you can meet lots of other people & make new connections at anytime. if it’s in person or even if it’s in an online space , i bet there are lots of people in this comment section or any shifting video who would love to be your friend.
defining why you want to shift can do wonders for uncovering more about yourself. 90% of the things people want to shift for are & can be found here & you’re more then worthy of them. just because you want something like love or a sense of belonging doesn’t mean you have to travel the multiverse for it.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.
♡ “i want to k!ll myself because i can’t shift.”
while i understand frustration, extremes that result in life altering & ending choices are never good and quite frankly, frightening for a creator to see in their comment sections. most sv!c!des are committed on impulse. we go through so many emotions on the daily & process so much information a day. taking a moment alone to think & break down thought process & long term effects your actions will have is a nice way to come back down to earth.
meditation is also a great tool to calm down. you can even use shifting guided meditations without the actual intention to shift. breath work has also been helpful to me.
i understand these suggestions aren’t long term fixes but if you’re someone who has echoed these words & truly meant it then i cannot recommend therapy & possible taking a break from shifting even more to focus on yourself right here where you are. this may not be the answer you’d like to hear but it’s the one that is possibly needed.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.
♡ timing.
there is no specific time frame that you have to shift. both children & adults do hold the capability to shift. if someone tells you, you can’t shift because ___ or that you’ll age out of something its simply not true. things take time & it’s okay if your journey doesn’t look like everyone else’s. there’s no need to stress yourself out. try to enjoy the journey as well as being excited for the outcome. essentially, a large part of the shifting journey is meditation & affirmations which are both beneficial to your mental & physical self. try to sprinkle in some self love affirmations or general positive thoughts too. even if you need to take a step away from shifting & pick it up at a later date, i encourage you to do so if it’s stressing you out or you’re only focusing on shifting or neglecting your life / responsibilities here.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.
♡ shadow & trauma work.
answering questions that are meant to make you think & deeply reflect are tools that hi light some issues you may not even realize you’ve had. i have a tumblr post here with some, but for tiktok, ill list some on the next side. these ones are specifically for shifting but i encourage you to venture out to discover some more personal ones to expand upon your answers to these.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.
i should also mention, i’m not a therapist so take what i say as non-professional advice & mere suggestions & a starting point to truly expand what shifting has done for you, negatively & positivity. im a huge advocate for therapy & if you feel comfortable enough expand upon these conversations in sessions if you feel comfortable.
i understand my audience is varied in age but i do notice a lot of you are younger then myself. it’s hurts to see people who are so young stress themselves out this much over trying to shift. i really do care about you & want to see all of you happy — with or without shifting.
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.
48 notes · View notes
mj-iza-writer · 20 hours
Text
Could I pretty please have the Whump Community's help.
I am planning on making a dog tag that says Whumpee on it, but I'm trying to think of something degrading Whumper would put on one for their pet Whumpee.
It needs to be short enough to fit on the tag, and not something that will get me arrested. But mean and degrading enough to fit a degraded dehumanized pet.
I'm struggling and words are hard.
My only idea so far has been
Whumpee
Please return when done
But I feel like that is going to flag me and I don't know how much the machines are monitored.
Can you either tag/ comment your ideas. I'll post the finished result.
Video of a puppy for fun
Tumblr media
49 notes · View notes
adobe-outdesign · 12 hours
Note
for pokemon reviews, have you done diglett/dugtrio and their alolan forms?
Tumblr media
Diglett is what I'd consider to be a quintessential Gen 1 design—no frills, barely any detail, just a wack-a-mole creature with a face. Visually, it's honestly pretty bland, but it helps compensate for this with its "gimmick", if you can call it that: you never see its entire body, with it being perpetually stuck half underground at all times. What the lower body even looks like is a meme in and of itself, even referenced by PMD:
Tumblr media
However, I'd also consider this a result of Gen 1 design, and not in a good way this time. Diglett poking halfway out of the ground worked fine on a Gameboy game, because there were no backgrounds, or anything you could define as "ground" in general. But in recent games, Diglett and its dirt keep being rendered as separate from the ground, which really kills the entire concept. I'm not a game dev, but shouldn't it be possible to make it so the dirt part of Diglett's model automatically picks up the ground texture of wherever it spawns? It's 2024, I feel like we can do better than this. Or hell, just don't model in the dirt mound at all if that's too hard to do.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I'm not really that big on Dugtrio, just because this style of "copy/paste the same Pokemon twice" is... well, pretty boring. I'm not even opposed to the idea of multiplying Diglett to evolve it (it kind of ties back into the wack-a-mole thing, and really, what else would you do with it), but the design could've changed more in the process—different faces/expressions, different colors, different body lengths, that kind of thing.
For example, when their lookalikes Wiglett evolve, they change their position relative to the ground, change color, and change facial proportion. It's not a lot, but it's enough to differentiate the two, which is what I feel is missing here.
Tumblr media
Speaking of being boring, Alolan Diglett is mostly just regular Diglett but with three blond hairs added. To its credit, I do get what they were going for progression-wise here, and it does change as much as it can about the base design; different, much more saturated colors and dark gray dirk and rocks resembling that of the volcanic minerals in a place like Alola, which is a nice touch. Still, I feel like you could've just skipped this one and done the Cubone thing, with regular Diglett just evolving straight into Alolan Dugtrio, and not really lost much.
Tumblr media
I do find myself liking Alolan Dugtrio just a little more than the original. This might be a hot take, but if the original is going to be slightly silly, I'd rather just take the version that goes all the way with the silly. It also fixes the progression issue I had with regular Dugtrio, changing A. Diglett's individual hairs into long flowing surfer-dude manes.
As alluded to in the 'dex, the "hair" here isn't hair at all, but actually metallic whiskers. This in turn is a nod to Pele's hair, a type of volcanic formation found in Hawai'i, which is technically not also hair but is actually glass.
Tumblr media
I like this concept, but at the same time, something about the line never quite sat 100% right with me. I think it's because Pele's hair doesn't really have anything to do with the Diglett line to begin with (I thought it maybe formed on the ground, but from what I understand it's actually partially airborne). Like, A. Marrowak turns into a fire dancer because of the bone, A. Vulpix is an arctic fox, G. Corsola is bleached coral, etc. Whether it be visually or conceptually, there's generally a connection between the original 'mon and the new theme, whereas here it just feels kind of random. You could technically slap that hair on any Pokemon and have it make as much sense, though it at least fits Dugtrio from a visual standpoint.
Tumblr media
As a whole, Diglett is a fun 'mon with standard visuals but a neat visual quirk, even if it doesn't translate well into the games. Dugtrio is fairly bland, A. Diglett is fine but still kind of bland, and A. Dugtrio at least cranks the silliness up to 100.
Between all three Diglett and Diglett-related 'mons, I think I like Wiglett the best; it's a little plain and could've gotten the eel thing across better, but it has a fitting concept and evolves in a distinct way, which is something I like the actual Diglett line is lacking a bit.
37 notes · View notes
Text
(Request) I Bet You Were the Best Brother
It's been a while since I posted a oneshot, so I hope this 5k one manages to make up for that.
As I've mentioned before, been going through a bit of a writer's block that is finally going away. Some it still lingers, but it is infinitely better. Feels like I can breathe again. So, everyone reading this that struggles with writer's block at the moment--know that it will go away. You will be able to write again. It's not a matter of if, only when. You will be able to write again.
Anyway, I don't have any other major life updates for you, so I guess I'll let you start reading now. Happy reading! Let me know what you thought!!
Fandom: Undertale/UTMV
Characters: Dream and Nightmare (Who belong to Joku)
Warnings: A character losing their memory and swearing and I think that’s it. Let me know!
Summary: Ilike_cringe (Fri 14 Oct 2022): "here is a request :>. Could you make it that nightmare might have hit dream tooo hard in a fight that (bear with me ) Dream lost his memory ( if you could could you add more spice \^o^/)"
Word Count: 5395
~oOo~
Nightmare wanted there to be a note that the fight started off normal.
His gang showed up, causing some ruckus. He hung out in the background observing, soaking in the new misery like a sponge, keeping an eye out for the tell-tale sign that the Star Sanses had shown up. In today’s case, that ended up being an arrow flying at one of his boys, which barely got dodged, the blue glow disappearing as it left eyesight. Grinning, he had taken it as his cue to join in, grabbing Dream by the ankles as he notched another one, and throwing him across the space.
Not too hard, of course. He didn’t want his brother out of commission quite yet. That was always the fun part about the fight, seeing him defeated. It needs to be drawn out a bit, though, for it to be really satisfying.
Dream recovered from the toss quickly, though he was soaked head to toe—he had unintentionally tossed him into the river. Whoops. The annoyed look on his brother’s face made his grin widen even more. They quickly fell into their routine after that, trading blows and insults, slowly moving away from the others. Another toss had them entering the woods, which resulted in a lot of fallen trees, a clear indicator of where they’d gone.
A cliff came into view, with Dream’s back to it. Nightmare didn’t take much note of it at the time, too preoccupied—his brother had just gotten a pretty bad hit to the back of his skull, making him stumble. Pausing for a minute, he gave him some time to get his bearings back before attacking again, pushing him closer to the cliff edge.
So…technically, this whole thing could be considered his fault, but how was he supposed to know what would happen?
The cliff seemed perfectly safe in the normal dangerous way!
This means the fight was going great until the cliff crumbled under Dream’s feet, making him shriek, eyes widening, his bow dispersing as he pinwheeled backward. Nightmare froze, staring at the now absent spot with eyes equally as wide, tentacles raised to strike.
Then it went silent.
 “…shit,” he hissed, automatically turning around in case his brother teleported at the last second to safety. It wouldn’t be the first time, so it shouldn’t be the last time.
No one was there.
He waited.
Still no one.
Maybe Dream was just in shock, still picking himself up. Turning back, Nightmare stepped closer to the cliff, small rocks tumbling after the larger ones from his movements. If he leaned over, he could probably tell…ah, no. Nope, that was just a bunch of trees. His brother was probably under those trees. Probably just picking himself up.
He’ll return in no time.
Nightmare just had to wait.
So, he did.
For one minute. Then two. Then…honestly, he lost track of the minutes after that, glancing back and forth around the clearing, looking over his shoulder at the cliff like Dream would just suddenly appear, having climbed up for some stupid reason. Any minute now, the fight will be back on, continuing as usual…any minute now…
…any minute…
…any—
Okay, so.
Something was wrong.
Turning back to the cliff, he glared at the edge. It was its fault this was happening. Why did it decide to crumble now? Particularly when Dream was on it? Why?
Now his brother was somewhere below, dazed as hell, without the clear thinking necessary to teleport, or injured badly enough to be unconscious—and as soon as that thought popped into existence, he shoved it away, then took time to quell the rising panic in his soul.
No, no, that’s not possible. Dream’s far more durable than that. Sure, it’s a cliff, and cliff’s cause damage, even to immortal beings, but still. His brother could heal, so shouldn’t that work on himself, make him more…invulnerable, or something? Unless…he couldn’t actually heal himself and he’s just been assuming that he could this entire time…no, that couldn’t be possible. Nightmare’s pretty sure he’d remember that if it were the case.
So…what happened?
Maybe…maybe Dream was just staying down there for a while.
He’ll probably join again in a bit.
Yeah, that’s probably it. So, he should really go back and help his boys. Hey, maybe Dream’s already there! Maybe he went to his friends instead. Makes sense, makes sense…
He should go help his boys now, he’s been standing here too long.
And…he wasn’t moving.
Why wasn’t he moving?
Dream’s fine. He’s back at the main fight. It’s something that’s happened before. It should be something that happened here. It’s fine. He can go back. So…what kept him here, staring around like his brother would magically appear, a tight feeling in his chest that threatened to steal the air away from his non-existent lungs?
Maybe…maybe he should just go down there, check on Dream—
That was another thought pushed away. No, hell no. If he gave in to that though, if he went down there to check, now, after too much time has already passed for that to be considered just moving the fight along, that’d be…that’s cause his brother to hope. Hope that things could go back to the way things were before the apples. He can’t go through the painstaking steps needed to crush that hope, put off the last stubborn spark that remained until he was sure it wouldn’t create another flame. Not again.
Besides, he didn’t even care. Not that much. Sure, yeah, he cared somewhat, always would—that’s just naturally part of being a brother. But the majority of how much he cared was in the past, before everything was plucked off a tree in the form of a black apple and devoured. That care no longer exists, taken over by the need to win all these fights, making the scales tip in his direction.
It just…didn’t exist. He didn’t care.
(Some days, it was harder to convince himself of this fact than others.
This was one of them.)
He didn’t care, so he should so rejoin his boys, and get out of this AU.
This time, he teleported.
It was an easy win. Dream never came back.
When it came time to go home, Nightmare couldn’t stop his gaze from wandering away from his boys, who were celebrating as usual, over to the trees. In the direction of the cliff, even if he couldn’t see it from here.
The tight feeling in his chest squeezed and squeezed. His tentacles flicked nervously behind him. For some reason, he kept thinking that now was the moment his brother would appear, now was the moment he could stop all this silly, stupid worry, go back to being angry. And the longer he looked, the more that thought wavered and shook, gathering speed as it transformed into a tornado that threatened to consume all of his other priorities until he made sure Dream was okay. But the only way to do that was to go and check, and leaving now would just make the boys confused and worried, which he could not handle right now.
Besides, he was sure it was fine.
He got them all home before he could convince himself otherwise, before the urge to make sure was too overpowering. To make sure he was really distracted, he holed himself up in his office, pulling out some paperwork—which wasn’t even real paperwork, just a bunch of sudoku and word searches and other puzzles printed out to make it look like he was working on important stuff.
For the most part, it worked. Kept his mind too busy to think about what happened.
Then he got to one particular word search that—and he is not joking or exaggerating this part—had three words at the bottom for him to find, all in a row, that read: ‘Dream’, ‘injury’, and ‘concussion’. Isn’t that just the strangest collection of words you’ve ever seen? The surreal coincidence of the words made Nightmare stare down at the page for a minute, completely gobsmacked. Who the hell was writing these word searches, and why the fuck did they include these three specific words on the same one?
It was like a sign or something…
Sneering, Nightmare tore the word search up into tiny pieces, sitting back in his chair, spinning around and around. Trying very hard not to think about the three words. And how his brother never came back. And how the yelp he let out when he fell just fell silent and how he never bothered to check and—
And now he was thinking about it.
“Fuck.”
Growling to himself, he stopped spinning in his chair. Then, he promptly stood and teleported back to the AU.
Leaning over the cliff again, he teleported down. His brother wasn’t anywhere in the immediate proximity—though, why would he be? This was all just a waste of time—so he started walking around, ducking under some tree branches. When he fell, Dream would’ve had to have landed somewhere around here…though he still wasn’t sure why he was searching.
His brother was probably gone by now. His friends probably came to collect him.
Why did he think he’d find him here, lying on the ground as if nothing happened? As if he just decided to take an impromptu nap, in the snow and in wet clothes and…
Oh. Oh, shit.
That was actually Dream lying there in front of him.
Fuck.
Almost tripping over himself, Nightmare hurried over, falling to his knees beside his brother. His hands hovered in the air around him, unsure what to do. “Dream?” he called, hoping to wake him up. Nothing happened.
Dream didn’t move.
For a soul-stopping moment, Nightmare actually thought he might be dead. Panic swirled in his chest, choking him, until he remembered that if they were dead, their body would turn to dust. Presumably, anyway, since they had no real way of knowing that until they…y’know…actually died, but still. The thought allowed him to gather himself enough to Check his brother, make sure of it. It said he was fine, if missing a chunk of health.
Nightmare breathed out, hating how shaky it was. “Idiot, making me worry for nothing…” he muttered to himself, looking down at his brother, frowning. Shaking his shoulder, he raised his voice a bit, eager to wake him up, make sure he left to wherever, hopefully back to his friends, and get home himself before his boys wondered where he went off to. “Dream. Wake up.”
No response. Dream was still. Breathing—he double-checked, just to be sure—but still.
Frowning, he shook him again, rougher. Still nothing.
Even unconscious, his brother insisted on being annoying. Scowling, he sat back on his heels. “If you don’t wake up, I’m going to kick you.”
Nothing.
Welp. His hand was forced.
Standing, Nightmare kicked Dream in the side—not too hard, of course, he’s not a complete monster. Just enough that he woke up.
Which he did.
Finally.
Nightmare rolled his eye to himself, crossing his arms as he watched his brother groan, coming to. A hand half-raised to his head before stopping, eyes blinking open and squinting against the light. His eyelights were paler than normal, just a hair bigger, too. He could see the exact moment they focused in, his brother clocking that there’s someone standing above him, but Dream didn’t panic, didn’t seem to be anything more than confused.
Dream blinked again. “Hi.”
Nightmare raised a brow bone. Seriously? That’s it? He fought the urge to roll his eye again. “What are you still doing here?”
His brother seemed to get more confused. “What?”
Wondering if the fall knocked loose some brain cells, Nightmare scowled. “What do you mean, ‘what’? You know what. What are you still doing here? This is, like, the most uncomfortable spot to have a nap.” Without waiting for him to answer, he continued, waving a hand around. He couldn’t let the opportunity to mock him go by. “And why didn’t you rejoin the fight? I thought you had a duty to protect the positivity in the multiverse.”
“Um…” Dream blinked for a third time, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. He laughed, nervously, like a reflex, and when he opened his eyes again, they were fuzzy again. “Sorry, you went a bit fast for me there. Could you repeat that?”
Ugh. Now he was just being difficult.
“You’re so annoying.” Nightmare said, stepping away. “Just get up and get out of here.”
Looking up at him, the words seemed to take a few minutes to sink in. Then, nodding, Dream tried to stand, movements jerky, as if he was figuring out how to move them for the first time again. When he stood, he wobbled, tilting over a bit before righting himself.
Nightmare realized he had stepped forward, ready to catch him should he fall, and retreated, tucking his hands back into his arms.
Damnit. He was slipping. He had to get out here, fast.
“I’m alright.” Dream said, clearly noticing his misstep. He was smiling. Nightmare had to look away before the sight made him feel warm inside. “Just a bit dizzy.”
“Whatever,” Nightmare said in return, leaving it at that.
Still smiling, his brother shifted on his feet, looking down at his hands and clenching them into fists a couple of times. His gaze wandered back up to him, and then away, looking around them with a curious, still confused, look. It was almost like he was trying to figure out where he was, as if he wasn’t just in a fight here earlier.
He couldn’t have forgotten that fast, could he? And what was he still doing here?
Shouldn’t he be opening a portal by now?
“What are you waiting for?”
Snapping back to look at him, Dream didn’t seem to understand the question. “Huh?”
Waving a hand again, tentacles flicking behind him, Nightmare’s scowl deepened. Why the fuck was he acting so weird? “Open a portal already and go home. Your friends are probably worried sick by now.”
(He ignored the voice in his head that said he was starting to get worried, too.)
“Right, right.” Dream nodded, trying and failing to look like he knew what he was talking about. “A portal…see, um, I would do that…but, uh…” Looking around again, shifting some more, his smile turned sheepish. “Well, I don’t remember, exactly, how to do that.”
Nightmare did not return the smile, unamused. He just stared.
What the fuck? What was he playing at? What was the point in drawing all this out? Nostalgia? What did he get out of acting so weird? What was going on here?
“Do you think this is a fucking game?” Nightmare asked, voice slipping off into a growl. His tentacles moved restlessly. He was getting agitated now. He just wanted to go home, get back to his puzzles, and maybe sleep for a week. But no, he was here, playing along with this stupidness, unable to get a grasp on what was happening.
Dream looked alarmed, holding his hands up and shaking them furiously. “No! No—”
“Then why the fuck are you wasting my time? I come out here, in the middle of the evening, to make sure you’re good, and you decide to, what, pull a joke on me?” Unable to curb his irritation, he shook his head, rubbing a hand down his face. “Stars, I hate you. I’m reminded now why I don’t bother doing this for you. You never take it seriously.” Turning he started to walk away, hearing Dream stutter excuses behind him.
He didn’t want to hear any excuses. He was done. He was going home.
“It’s not—I’m not joking,” Dream called after him, footsteps crunching on the snow as he chased after him.
“Of course, you are!” Nightmare sighed, in annoyance or anger or both of them combined. He didn’t care anymore. “You always are!” He didn’t bother stopping or turning around. Just continued on. And then he remembered he didn’t have to walk away at all, could just make a portal out. Turning his annoyance to himself, he raised a hand to do so—
“I don’t remember that.”
—and stopped.
The statement struck the right chord, making something inside him fall to the pit of his stomach, pricking him uncomfortably. Slowly, he turned to face Dream again, paying more attention. “…what?”
“I—I don’t remember that,” Dream said, tone so genuine, eyes so wide and confused and even scared that it seemed to create a physical attack on his soul. Raising a hand, his brother held it to his head. “I thought if I waited a bit, I might remember something, but I don’t. It’s all just…blank. I don’t know anything you’re talking about, like the fight or my friends. I place any faces to them or names or anything.” He let his hand fall, shaking his head as he turned his gaze down to his feet, speaking softly. “I just don’t remember.”
The words pushed Nightmare out of the present, sending him spiraling into the black hole opening in his ribs, right where his soul is. They pressed in on him, reverberating, turning into a high pitch that buzzed inside him, threatening to cut off his breath.
He didn’t want to believe the words. In fact, he was trying his absolute best not to. Excuses flew through, nitpicking through the explanation and finding words that betrayed the real truth. He told himself over and over that no matter what, no matter how injured he got, Dream would never allow this to happen. His brother would hold onto himself with an iron grip, too desperate to let go, and the Multiverse would allow him to hold on because it was just another being that favored him. They would not let their favorite Guardian lose his precious memories, not for all the stories it brought them.
No, it just wasn’t possible. He was lying—though the reason why was unclear, and nothing could really justify it, he had to be lying. It was a trick, a ploy, maybe even a trap. Yes, that’s it. Any minute now, the other Star Sanses would jump out, pull their weapons, and Dream would drop this façade and go back to pleading with him and when it didn’t work, when Nightmare lashed out in anger, he would pull out his bow and—and—
It just---it had to be a trick.
It had to.
It…
His eyes didn’t look like he was lying, though.
No matter how long he searched, how close he looked, it was a blank sheet of gold. He found confusion, yes, he found anxiety—nothing new there—but he did not find any recognition. Hope and helplessness, but no relief in having someone he knew find him. Even now, as his brother looked around the clearing, he only saw curiosity, as if he hadn’t seen this place before, as if he had just arrived, as if he had just woken up and was in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar faces. The eyes came back to his, smiled at him, and—
And they were still blank.
A ghost.
The black hole in his ribs widened, pulling him in faster. Digging his heels in, he resisted with everything he had, swimming back out. He had to confirm this, he told himself, had to make sure this was the truth. If there was any chance he did remember, whether that be his friends or his title or Night—
Well, Nightmare just had to find it. He had to.
He heard himself speak before he was fully back in his body. “Did you hit your skull?”
“Ah, maybe?” Dream tilted his head, reaching around to the base of it before retracting quickly, wincing. “Yes. Yeah, I did.”
“Turn around.”
Obedient, Dream did, and Nightmare stepped closer, observing the crack. It wasn’t as bad as he was expecting—certainly not as big—but it was still enough to make bile climb up the back of his throat. Swallowing it down, he darted his gaze around it, taking in the gaping black hole, about the size of a cherry, thinner cracks webbing out from around it. It had blood crusted on the edges, and he was sure that if he took the time to look around the cliff, he’d find matching spots.
Absently reaching out, he traced along the wound with his fingers. Stars, how he wished he knew how to heal. This would be so much easier.
Dream pulled away after his fingers made contact, and he let his hand fall as he turned back, already apologizing. “Sorry! Sorry, that just…really hurt.” He laughed again, but it petered out as he caught sight of Nightmare’s face. “Oh…that bad of a sight, huh?”
“You said…” Nightmare swallowed again, ignoring those words. “You said you don’t remember anything?” The feeling in the pit of his stomach clenched.
“No.” Oblivious, Dream shook his head. “The latest memory I have is of you standing over me. Before that…” Tilting his head again, his brother thought about it, ultimately coming up with nothing. No spark in his eyes. “Nothing.” He looked regretful, like he wished he could be of more help. “Sorry.”
There he went again, apologizing.
Nightmare was going to have to have a talk with him about that. He can’t keep saying sorry for things that he didn’t need to say sorry for in the first place.
First, however, was dealing with—this.
“So…” He didn’t want to ask the next question. It burned in his throat, made his tongue curl in preparation, the words too ugly to even think about. Why did it need to be said? He already knew the answer to it. Why did he insist on asking it when he knew what was going to be said? He would rather them stand like this forever than ask it.
That was a risk, though. And he would really like to get some sleep tonight—even if that might be impossible the longer this sank in. They should really wrap this up soon.
That meant asking uncomfortable questions.
Swallowing himself down, Nightmare let the question go. It couldn’t hurt to ask, anyway. “You don’t remember me?” The words lingered in the air, an odd hint of emotion to them, something fragile and vulnerable.
(He knew the answer to why he wanted to ask this.
Somehow, somewhere inside him, there was still a need that maybe something would be remembered. If the longer they talked, the greater the chance the memories would just snap back into place. That the hollow feeling of having someone you grew up with look at you like one would a stranger would disappear, replaced by joy or anger or tears, anything else.
Inside, if nothing else, he needed there to be a chance he’d be remembered.)
It felt like hope.
“No.” Dream answered, the shaking of his head feeling like salt poured into open wounds. He seemed disappointed in himself, upset he couldn’t help. For him, this was failing at giving someone what they wanted.
For Nightmare, this was confirmation.
(It felt like denial.)
(There was a stinging in his chest. Where did it come from?)
“Where you someone important?”
Nightmare automatically bristled. “I—” He stopped himself, glaring down at the ground while clenching his jaw.
His instinct was to say that, of course he was. He was Dream’s brother. They grew up together. They were, still are, two halves of the same coin, two halves to the same balance. Despite everything, that had to mean something.
But that wasn’t the truth, was it?
Not anymore.
Maybe one time, before The Incident, before the villagers came to them. It was just the two of them, after all. And Mother, but she couldn’t really say much, or do anything beyond existing. Maybe then they were each other’s most important person. And maybe it would’ve stayed that way had everything not gone to shit.
But the point was, that was in the past.
Whatever they had, it was gone. In more ways than one now…
Inhaling, Nightmare looked away, shoving his hands into his pockets. “That…depends on your definition of important.”
They had other people in their lives now. He had his gang, his boys. Though he often complained about their foolishness and called them idiots, not once had he ever wished he hadn’t met them. Dream, he knew, felt much the same about Ink and Blue. Neither of them would trade their friends for the world.
Even for each other.
“I was—” Nightmare sighed, rolling back his shoulders. “I’m your brother. Nightmare.” He forced himself to look back at Dream, even if the eye contact burned his soul with something uncomfortable. “Your name is Dream, by the way. In case you forgot that, too.”
“Cool!” Dream paused and gasped, beaming as he made the connection. “Our names match!”
“Yeah.” Nightmare said, forcing himself to smile back. “Yeah, they do.” Of course they did, he thought to himself. That’s the reason why they chose the names.
Brow furrowing, Dream tilted his head. “Wait, if we’re brothers, wouldn’t I just live with you, then?”
“What?” Nightmare felt himself frown in return. “Why do you think we’d live together?”
Strange, considering Dream didn’t even remember him.
(There was that stinging again.)
“I-I don’t know, I just…I have this feeling that brothers should be living together. That they need to live together. I don’t know why, but it’s a very strong feeling.” Dream raised a hand to his chest, hovering over where his soul would be. “When I think about you, um, that feeling gets all…strange.”
This caught his attention. “Strange?”
“Yeah.” Nodding slowly, Dream worked through it, finding what to call it. “I think it…I think it turns jealous, somehow.”
Nightmare stared.
Jealous…?
That couldn’t be right. Dream had to be reading it wrong.
There was nothing to be jealous about. His brother always had the perfect life. What more could he want?
If anything, he should be the one jealous. He’s the only one who deserves to be jealous. Jealous of the way people were always drawn to his brother over himself, the way people thought everything of the sun and nothing of the moon, even though they both shared the same light. It was his right to be envious, his right to look upon the past and view it with bitterness. It was his right to look at the present, now, when Dream still has his friends and his standing and still has everyone revolving around him.
At least he can find relief, find arrogance, in the fact that he found his own friends, his own group of people who looked up to him. It took years, it took work, but he found them.
He didn’t need Dream anymore.
(So, what if sometimes he looked at his brother and his friends and felt a longing to join them?
So, what if he found the way they laughed, the way they treated each other, a reminder that he’s done too many things to be treated like that again?
So, what if he’s tired of fighting all the time and wants to go back to how things were, while knowing that could never happen, while looking across the battlefield into golden eyes that reflected the same kind of feelings and—and…oh.
Oh.
Oh, they would never escape being peas in a pod, would they?)
“Hey, you mentioned my friends, though.” Dream said, brightening up again, looking around like they might just pop up. Not that he would recognize them. “Maybe we could find them and they could help me get home. What do you think of that?”
Maybe, Nightmare thought, looking away as well. He couldn’t lie, it would be nice to leave this place, and dump the responsibility of an amnesiac onto someone else. Especially the Guardians of the Multiverse, the coveted Star Sanses.
But something twisting in his stomach stopped him from agreeing.
He thought, all too suddenly, about how he came back hours later to his brother still lying in relatively the same spot he fell. Meaning Ink and Blue never came back to look for him after they retreated. You’d think, for monsters that claimed to be his best friends, they’d be out here the minute the battle was over, bringing Dream back home to be checked on.
Why should he trust his brother with those two, when they didn’t even search for him? They probably don’t even know he’s missing. They certainly don’t know he’s injured. He can’t help but wonder what their reactions would’ve been to this memory loss.
Too bad he won’t find out.
“I think they’re busy, actually.” Nightmare decided, making a split decision that he hoped wasn’t wrong. “And going to be busy for the week yet.”
 “Oh…”
Dream looked disappointed. Hurt.
The look on his face only solidified Nightmare’s decision. His tentacles curled in satisfaction. “You can come home with me, though. Stay for a bit.”
“Really?” Starting to brighten yet again, Dream seemed to hesitate, searching to make sure he was telling the truth.
“Yeah.”
“Awesome.” Dream’s smile lit up the forest, and Nightmare turned himself away before he found himself getting soft because of it. Raising a hand to open the portal, he heard Dream chuckle behind him. “I gotta say, even though I don’t remember it, I bet you were the best brother ever.”
The words were said so confidently, so…normally…it made Nightmare freeze. The portal wobbled in front of him, but stayed open, and he blinked at it a couple of times before he turned back to his brother.
His mouth was dry, for a reason he couldn’t yet understand.
“What?”
“Well, I mean…it’s like you said. You came all this way, in the middle of the night, to check on me. You were worried. And then, when you found me, you stayed to wake me up, even though you technically already completed your goal. You didn’t just leave. And you checked my injury without me asking you to, and told me my name, and now you’re offering to let me stay at your place.”
Dream’s smile turned smaller, more vulnerable. “It just seems like a very nice thing to do.”
Nightmare’s gaze was frozen, locked onto that genuine, soft smile. The last sentence played on a loop, ringing inside his skull.
A very nice thing to do.
In any other situation, the suggestion would be laughable.
But like this…
(There was that stinging. Again. Why won’t it just go away?)
He thought back to the fight that happened earlier. How he reveled in the pain he caused, how much fun he had taunting his brother. How often he attacked him, without worry or caution. How eager he was to throw him around into trees, back him up into a cliff. He hadn’t even thought about what might happen, too giddy, too smug. All he wanted to do was put him in his place…he hadn’t even cared that he was bleeding…hadn’t even reached out to try and save him when the cliff crumbled…
How long had Dream laid there, in the snow, still in wet clothes?
What did he think as he watched Nightmare watch him fall?
How can that be called nice?
How can what happened during The Incident be called nice? What kind of brother turned his twin into stone, and left him in a dead AU all alone, knowing full well that he would one day return? What kind of brother picked an apple he was supposed to protect in the first place? What kind of brother was he?
Certainly not the kind this Dream was talking about…
“Right.” Nightmare said, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. He understood why this time. He wanted to throw up. “Thanks.”
Dream didn’t notice anything wrong. Still smiling away. As always. Always. “No problem!” Rocking back on his heels, he started to look around as his attention span waned with no portal to go through.
Still, Nightmare did not move to open it.
Instead, he found himself changing tracks. Jumping train from thinking about how bad of a brother he was, to how good of a brother Dream was.
Is.
Was.
Stars, this was so confusing…
“You weren’t that bad of a brother yourself.” Nightmare said, and this time the words were better tasting. At least this way, something true would be said here.
Dream looked back at him, surprised, with a spark of confusion. Then, even if he didn’t know everything Nightmare was talking about, he smiled, taking it as the compliment it was. “Aw, thanks.”
Nodding, Nightmare finally managed to open the portal, letting Dream go through first. He hesitated to follow, looking around the AU again. For some reason, he felt like he would still find his brother, memories and all, waiting for him if he looked hard enough. But he wouldn’t. He knew that.
At least, he had to accept that.
That stinging again…
Showing it down once again, Nightmare turned and went home.
(It’s only after Dream is settled into one of the guest bedrooms—stocked with fresh bedsheets and a fresh pair of clothes for the next day borrowed from Nightmare’s own closet—and he’s back in the safety of his office that he lets his composure finally break. Choking, he slides down his door, hand clasped over his mouth to keep as quiet as possible.
It’s only then that he lets himself cry.
Cry about how he never reached out to catch his brother when he first fell.
Cry about what his brother thought before splitting his skull on a rock.
Cry about the stranger left in his brother’s body.
Cry about everything.)
41 notes · View notes
Text
Oh lets drag up some more 2000's politics debates - Noah Smith had this take today:
Tumblr media
So bait is bait, but I think this fun bait, I'll take this. Its a definition game (what does "win" mean) but that can still be elucidating.
There is obviously a sense in which the US won the War in Iraq - which is extremely easy to reveal by looking at Afghanistan! Unlike there, where the explicit, named enemy of the US outlasted us, overthrew our imposed regime, and took power, in Iraq it is true that the country is currently governed by the system the US built, and it rules with relative stability. Not ideal, but hey its not Syria or anything. This would in fact be *shocking* to people in the 2000's - back then the general vibe was that Iraq would descend into full-on civil war. People openly discussed throwing in the towel and just letting the country split in three. And then all of that just fizzled out over time, and people started buying into the system. Its not glorious "nation building" but it looks like it stuck. It is fair to say that Iraq is not in fact a disaster case study in the nation building timeline (from an outcomes standpoint, from other lens like humanitarian its different), and its often unfairly seen that way.
But there is just no coherent definition of "win" divorced from strategy, divorced from goals. Imagine if the US today jointly invaded Israel & Gaza both, and hey throw in Hezbollah too, what the fuck ever (Pro tip: don't do this) with the goal of setting up governments that did whatever the fuck they wanted, don't care, as long as they don't attack each other anymore. And we got Iraq today as a result? Eh, I won't fight you too hard if you call that a win. This magical funland scenario hit the target, right? The US wanted to de-escalate regional conflicts in the region, it did that. How nice a place those are to live or w/e wasn't the point.
In Iraq, "not falling apart" was not the goal. The goal was end Sadaam's WMD program, which well raincheck on that, but moving on was also to End Terrorism by Sending a Message to other enemy countries like Iran and also building a beacon of secular, liberal democracy in the Middle East to show the people that there was a better path to Islamic Fundamentalism, thus reducing its strength in the region.
It Did Not Do That.
Man, can I not emphasize enough how much it did not do that, how much the War in Iraq did not reduce the strength of Islamic Fundamentalism in the Middle East. It is literally, not figuratively-literally but actually-literally, one of the greatest own goals in the history of strategy since war has existed. I have explained that part in more detail too often in the past to repeat, but do I even need to? Say the sentence "The War in Iraq reduced Islamic extremism as a political movement" out loud and try not to laugh. You can't, its too absurd to get past your lips.
From that lens, the proper lens, I do not think you can call the War in Iraq a win. How stable Iraq is, while a dodged bullet for its people, barely scratches the surface of what would need to be shown to call it a win; and I see precious few nails that can join it.
53 notes · View notes