#i truly hate limbo so much

[landonkirbyappreciation]

It’s the fact that limbo shouldn’t even exist. It literally came out of nowhere, there is no explanation for it. There was never any mention of it or indication that it existed in any of tvd/to. You’re telling me with all the people who died in those shows that we wouldn’t have heard about it? There was the other side, there was Cade’s hell, there was the ancestral well, which were all destroyed. But there had never been anything about limbo, and not in legacies either until 4x03. Landon died in 2x15 and was literally about to go to peace in 3x01, he was walking to the light, and it was not limbo. Yes, he was in a sort of limbo state, but not the actual limbo dimension. He didn’t have to cross a lake, there was no dock, no ferryman. We’ve seen characters end up in a limbo state in the other shows too (like Bonnie in the forest with Elena or Stefan at the high school with Elena in the tvd finale, for example). Which is sort of like their own personal limbo where they’re at temporarily before either coming back to life or finding peace. So it made sense to see Landon in a similar state in the cemetery before he nearly went to peace. And he certainly didn’t need a coin or anything to do that, it was just right there waiting for him, which is consistent with the other shows. Then they decided to create this literal limbo dimension, which was clearly just for the sake of having a place to trap Landon in to make him suffer even more. And they provide no real explanation for it or how it exists or how it came to be. Or why Landon didn’t end up there in 3x01, why literally no other character before 4x03 has ever ended up there. It’s just there all of a sudden for no good reason, or we’re supposed to believe it’s always been there, and now everyone who dies ends up there? We’re supposed to believe the other characters who died in the past, like possibly Klaus, ended up there? (And somehow all these dead people, like Elvis, happen to be in Mystic Falls as well?) It’s ridiculous and makes no sense. It’s like they’ll retcon whatever they have to just as a way to keep screwing Landon over.

#text #s4 #my posts #this has bugged me all season #i truly hate limbo so much #they really went crazy with greek mythology #or whatever mythology it is idk #and retconned everything to make tvdu based on that #after the writers of tvd/to spent years creating their own original universe #that wasn’t based on anything in particular #just their own stories they created #with their own original characters #then the legacies writers came and wiped it away #with their weird obsession with greek gods and mythology #no originality or logic or creativity whatsoever #i can’t #and also #i refuse to believe klaus was ever in limbo or didn’t find peace after he died #he’s been with elijah and hayley and cami since he died #the line about him not finding peace till hope does was not meant to be literal my gosh

[ctorres74]

really? not even her own brother wants her?

(sorry im not caught up on the lore lol-)

Well, it's not like he's really her brother.

#{dw anon you're okay <3 you're trying ur best and that's what matters} #{uh basically there's two different sarahs in tmcblr. there's the younger sarah (sarah-hairclip) and older sarah (sarah-heathcliff-bps)} #{the younger sarah is the one from the same timeline as mark and cesar while the older one is from an entirely seperate timeline} #{she arrived here through timeline fuckery and now she's just chillin} #{however the younger sarah hates her because they can't exist on earth at the same time} #{so she's trapped in limbo rn because of older sarah} #{and she was like 'hey this is really fucked up why am i the one in limbo when she's not even from here'} #{and mark was like. ur right that is fucked up. and he started looking for ways to get rid of her but that plotline's kinda on hold rn} #{and cesar doesn't like her because the memory of her getting to this tl was wiped in the reset} #{so they don't rlly. trust her all that much. or at the very least he doesn't see her as truly sarah} #{^ sorry for the long ramble but i thinkt hat's it? uh sharkie runs both sarah blogs so you should ask him if anything's unclear n such}

[foldingfittedsheets]

We had the most egregiously evil little pony horse when I was growing up. I know everyone says that. Ponies are one of the animals that truly understand how to commit crimes but she was really deeply atrocious. One time she tried to murder me. Her name was Fancy.

I feel I should slightly explain here. See, my parents bought two acres with a house and a barn and pasturage and went “We’re farmers now!” They had absolutely no idea what they were doing. And at a certain point along that journey my mom got her hands on a horse. Technically she was half pony half horse so she was this weird middle size.

Fancy belonged to a friend of hers and he showed her how to saddle Fancy. And that was it. That was all we knew about this horse. So my mom brings her home and saddles her and we decide to go for a ride on this new creature in our lives. But Fancy, being the savvy bitch she was, was far too canny for our dumb asses.

Her maiden ride went to my older brother and ended rather abruptly when the saddle slid completely sideways and my brother toppled off her, miraculously unharmed but unwilling to ever try again. This made me like Fancy somewhat, because I hated my brother.

Those familiar with horse trickery would have caught her ruse but Fancy had deliberately held her breath to make the saddle seem tight enough. But in stride she let the breath out, the saddle loosened, and my brother came toppling down. She planned that fuckup.

I was a bit more game, being a dedicated horse girl. I wanted to succeed where my loathsome brother had failed. Keep in mind: none of us had ever ridden. We had no idea what we were doing, and in the only defense I’ll ever make of that hoofed demon it was probably not pleasant to have a human flopping on her back like a sack of potatoes. But I paraded around in a circle until she scraped my leg against a fence post. I lasted longer than my brother but had to admit riding an animal radiating malice at you is not comfortable.

We didn’t really ride Fancy much after that. She was a decorative aspect to the fields. Sometimes I’d sit on her bare back while she was eating. Every so often she’d buck me off for assuming familiarity with her.

But Fany's coup de grâce took several months. Most of the pasturage had electric fence running along it to keep the livestock from testing the fences or getting a taste for freedom. My parents were constantly moving fence posts and reallocating land to different purposes which is how one of the major gates ended up with electric fence running over top. During a move the wire got left up from the last border and now it was strung over what should have been an open passage.

I was taking a ride on Fancy, living in a fantasy that I had any idea what I was doing. My mom was out working in the yard, and as she passed through she left the gate open, forgetting the wire hazard. You know who didn't forget?

Fancy.

She beelined for the open gate and I realized a second too late what her plan was. I hauled back on the reins with all my strength but she powered through, charging at the wire. If I'd caught on sooner I could have tipped forward and probably cleared it.

It was roughly chest height. But she was too savvy, keeping a slow pace right up until the passage, and I didn't have time to react. The thought of getting electrocuted sent me down into a terrified backward limbo, desperately trying to flatten myself along her back.

It almost worked. But instead the wire caught under my chin, pressing back into my neck like a garrote. The only good news was that the wire wasn't live, but I was still in terrible danger. I squealed and wiggled and managed to twist my neck enough that the wire scraped over my face instead of pressing deeper. Once we were through Fancy stopped and turned to regard me, disappointed that her assassination had failed. My neck was bleeding but my head remained attached.

My mother was absolutely terrified and I was pretty shaken myself. We unsaddled Fancy for the last time, as full on murder was a bit more than I was willing to bear for the sake of pretending to be a fantasy hero on an epic journey. My neck still has a faint scar from her homicidal tendencies.

Fancy got to remain a decorative horse for many years after that, free of our attempts to ride her. Her last torment was when my mother decided to try to breed her to achieve an animal that was less interested in murder.

But Fancy, true to form, brutally attacked the stallion sent to service her, even when hopped up on horny hormones. There would be no foals from Fancy, and her saga ended when we sold her to another unlucky soul.

#ramblies #writing #story #funny story #true story #horses #horse #horse girl #ffs foibles #pony

[cheolhub]

EVENING GLOW — KIM MINGYU ࿐

summary. you’re having a horrible, no good, very bad day and mingyu wants to do everything he can to make it better.

wc. 4.5k+

warnings. hurt/comfort, overthinking, reader goes through it and cries a lot, allusions to having anxiety, smut! soft bf!mingyu, so much praise (it’s insane), pet names (angel, baby, sweet/pretty girl), reader is v needy and sensitive, a lot of reassurance, hand holding, fingering, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, slight dumbification, creampie, V SOFT, unprotected sex — MINORS DNI 18+

note. because i love keir ( @jeonghantis ) and bc they deserve the world and all of the stars. also it’s really for anyone who’s had way too many bad days in a row <3 u are very loved (by me and ur fave). also, i lost sight of the plot half way thru this (very common reoccurrence in all of my mingyu fics) so i apologize for that hehsh. i appreciate ur feedback! <3 and yes, this is loosely based off evening glow by wave to earth <33333333 + @toruro i also hope u like this hehehe

bad days aren’t uncommon for you, but you’ve had significantly less since kim mingyu waltzed into your life like the klutz he is. he manages to make every day brighter by simply existing. every smile, every laugh, every touch makes bad days seem like a distant memory.

that’s not to say you don’t still have them because you do. 

you still have days– like today– where it seems like nothing is right. days where you overthink every single thing in your life, ‘am i doing this right?’ ‘does he still love me?’ ‘does any of this even fucking matter?’ days where you want the earth to crack all the way open and swallow you whole. 

those days are beyond harsh. they have you trudging back home with wet lash lines, cloudy vision, and a loud voice in your head that’s begging– pleading– don’t cry, don’t cry, please don’t cry. 

and today… today felt like you went to hell and back. the second your eyes opened, you knew it was going to be one of those days and it truly was a series of rather unfortunate events. you woke up late and alone, you were reprimanded by your boss, you spilled your much-needed coffee during your break, your coworkers were much more hostile than usual, you got yelled at by clients over the phone, your personal phone died halfway through the day because, of course, you forgot to charge it last night, and then, the intrusive thoughts came. the ones that had you overthinking like crazy. 

and it’s not like you could talk to anyone about it (read: talk to mingyu about it). your phone was dead and you hated all of your coworkers, so you were stuck. stuck in limbo, it seemed, mind plagued with horrid thoughts. everything good in your life didn’t feel so good anymore. 

which is why you were practically in tears when you got back home, letting them roll down your face shamelessly as your hand fumbled the keys. you eventually got it into the lock– after steadying your shaky hand– turning the metal and letting yourself in. the second you shut the door, you press your back against it, head in your hands as you let out the soft sobs you've been holding in all day. 

on most of your bad days, you can keep your tears at bay till you make it into the shower. but, on days like today, you just can’t and your sobs echo through the empty apartment, reminding you that you’ll be alone till your boyfriend arrives. it’s not the prettiest sight, though, so you’re partially glad that mingyu misses it since he gets home after you. 

he usually does, at least. 

what you don’t realize is mingyu is home and he’s wandering around the apartment with his brows furrowed, confused as to where the sound of crying is coming from.

and when he sees you at the main entrance with your hands covering your face, he feels the air leave his lungs and his heart almost literally cracks in half. 

he treads carefully, slowly making his way to you. “...baby?”

you’re startled, choking on one of your sobs at the sound of his voice. out of mere embarrassment, you quickly wipe your tears with your sleeve though it does nothing to hide the fact that you actually have been crying. 

“gyu…” you say with a wavering voice, doing your absolute best to keep up your shitty facade. you quickly feel your resolve crumbling as you both stand in awkward silence, so you put your head down to avoid eye contact. “i-i thought you were working?”

he ignores your question and counters with his own, “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

you bite your trembling lip and shake your head, eyes still trained on the floor. 

he walks a few steps closer, now towering over your trembling body, “c’mon, angel. tell me what happened.”

you take a shuddered breath, slowly raising your head to look up at him. he frowns at your bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks and at the fact that all you can say is “hi…” in a nearly-inaudible, yet dulcet voice.

“hi, baby,” he whispers back, hands coming to cup your cheeks, thumbs wiping at your stray tears. “tell me what happened.” he repeats, a bit more demanding this time. 

you deflate, “i just had a bad day… it was nothing.”

he shakes his head at how you invalidate yourself, “it’s not nothing if it’s making you cry, Y/N…” he gently reminds.  “please tell me? i wanna help… if you’ll let me.”

you sigh, leaning into his touch. your eyes flutter close and the words escape you before your brain can process them. you tell him everything trying your hardest to not let your emotions get the best of you. it’s not like mingyu would care if you were crying and blubbering out your words, but you knew he hated seeing you so upset, so you refrain from shedding more tears. 

you try to refrain, at least. you can’t stop the way they helplessly fall when you open your eyes again. “nothing was going right, gyu… my day was so bad that it had me overthinking every little thing.”

“i’m sorry, baby.” he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. “i’m so sorry i wasn’t there for you.”

you shake your head profusely, swallowing the lump you feel in your throat, “n-no! no, please, it’s not your fault, gyu, i swear. my phone died, so it’s not like you could’ve known anyway.”

he pulls away from you, hands coming down to hold yours. “what did you think about?” 

you squeeze his hands, “a lot of things…”

“like?” he frowns, pressing further.

you look away, mumbling out a lie, “i dunno. it was a lot… i can’t really remember right now. ”

truth be told, you didn’t want to admit the anxiety-induced thoughts you had earlier knowing he’d worry. if he heard half the ones you had about your relationship, you know he’d probably break down himself. you’re well aware mingyu loves you more than anything on earth because he never fails to remind you.

but sometimes, the tiny voice in the back of your head– the one that says he’s too good to be true– gets a bit too loud and you tend to forget all his little reminders– all the ‘i love you’s’ he whispers into your ear right before bed, all the kisses he peppers onto your face, all the hugs where he squeezes the life out of you. 

“you don’t have to tell me what you thought about, but i do want to tell you something,” he starts, a small smile making its way onto his pretty lips. he leans into you, with a voice so small as he says, “i love you. and i know i suffocate you with it sometimes, but it’s true. i love you so much. please don’t ever doubt that.”

you nod, sniffling, “i know.” 

his smile grows, “and?...”

your lips curve up a bit and you whisper, “and i love you, too.”

“you better not forget it,” he playfully jokes, forehead resting on yours again. “you know i love you the most, though.”

you giggle softly, shaking your head. “you always turn it into a competition. you know it isn’t right?”

“i know it isn’t, but i do.” he confirms, voice tender and a bit hushed. “i want you to remember that the next time you think too hard. i love my pretty girl the most… more than anything. i’d do anything to keep you happy. wanna see that pretty smile everyday.”

the genuinity– the love– that drips from his words has you weak. the words replay in your head over and over almost as if it’s on a constant loop.

i love my pretty girl. 

my pretty girl.

your breath hitches at the unanticipated pet name, remembering the sweet, innocent way it rolled off his tongue. you know you probably shouldn’t feel this way, but it doesn’t stop the way you squeeze your thighs together, pussy pulsing at the mere term of endearment. you’re almost sure mingyu can feel the heat radiating off your skin, yet he does nothing. he stands still, warm, brown eyes staring at your tear-stained face.

so you take matters into your own hands. 

you stand tall and lean into him. your nose brushes against his and the proximity between the two of you closes quickly. i want to be kissed, your face reads– begs– and he finally sees that, obliging reluctantly. 

his eyes flutter and his lips graze against yours before you take the lead and close the gap for him. as his mouth collides with yours, you feel warmth erupt in your body and you relish it.

the kiss is soft. gentle. it nearly has you melting under him.

but the longer his lips mold against yours, the longer his tongue roams the inside of your mouth, the needier you get. it’s like all your worries wash away. all the bad thoughts evaporate into thin air. all you can think about is the everlasting love you have for the man before you and the incessant love he has for you, too.

you untangle your hands from his in favor of pawing at his chest, nails digging into the cotton fabric of his shit and slightly biting into his skin. 

you’re slowly, yet surely losing your mind. the kiss deepens and all the coherent thoughts you had minutes prior are being pushed to the back as mingyu is on the forefront of your mind. you’re overcome with need for him. need for him to make you forget everything. need for him to fuck you till all you can think about him and the way his cock makes you feel.

and mingyu knows this, of course. he knows with the way you claw at him and how you whimper desperately as if you’ve been deprived from his touch for far too long. 

it’s why he doesn’t make you beg for it. instead he’s pulling away, watching you chase his lips while he breathlessly asks, “you sure you wanna do this, baby?” he looks so enamored with you. there’s no doubt you look like a complete mess right now, but it’s like he sees past it. past the tears, past the red eyes, past all the sadness. 

“please,” you whisper, sniffling again. 

he murmurs okay against your lips before grabbing your hand and guiding you to your shared room. 

he diligently strips you of your clothing, first your pants then your shirt. his fingers skillfully popping the buttons on your blouse and slipping it off your body, letting it fall into a pool on the ground. 

“so beautiful,” he whispers, massive hands immediately moving to grope your tits through your bra. “you’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N.” 

his words linger in the air and you feel them. you feel beautiful when he stares at you half naked in your cotton panties and mismatched bra. you feel beautiful with your puffy eyes and snotty nose. mingyu makes you feel so beautiful even in your most unfavorable moments. 

you whimper at his heavy hands, your own tugging at the ends of his shirt, wordlessly begging for the fabric to join the other clothes on the ground. he obliges immediately, practically ripping it off of himself before his hands are back on you. 

he pulls your bra down, letting your tits spill out, kneading at the flesh with hearts in his eyes. a breathy version of his name comes out of your mouth– 

and the sound makes his cock ache. his body yearns and begs to be inside of you. so much so that it has him swiftly unclasping your bra before gently pushing you onto the bed. he thinks it’s gentle, at least. mingyu tends to forget his strength so his gentle can be your rough. 

it doesn’t matter, it never has. every single act mingyu performs for you is one that comes from a place of love. he’s a benevolent man, not a single malicious bone lives in his hand-crafted body. 

“gyu,” you whisper, hand slipping in between your thighs to work on your clothed clit as he towers over you. at your own contact, you feel a shock run through your body and your back just slightly arches off the bed. “need you.”

he curses under his breath, suddenly unable to breathe in his loose house shorts. he hooks his fingers into the waistband, pulling them down and presenting his leaky, hard cock to you. 

and the sight has your entire body going hot. you throw your head back against the plush pillows and moan out his name, louder this time, fingers moving faster against your clit– though it would feel so much better if he finally put his hands on you. or better yet, his cock inside of you. 

“gyu,” you drag out his name in a cry and you finally feel the bed dip under his weight.

“i know, baby,” he whispers, hand moving yours away from your soaked panties in favor of replacing it. when his bigger fingers begin to rub circles into the covered bud, you gasp and let yours grasp at the sheets under you. “i know you need me. i’ve got you.” he reassures you, voice shaky as he notices just how wet you are. “gonna make you feel so good, don’t worry.”

but you don’t realize how sensitive you are because the second his hand slips inside your panties, his warm hand finding your heated cunt, fresh tears spring to your eyes. “oh, fuck,” you shudder, shaking underneath him. 

“you’re so wet,” he mutters the obvious, fingers dipping in between your folds to collect your slick before pulling his hand out. 

“don’t tease me,” you plead weakly.

he frowns, shaking his head, “i’m not– i won’t,” he tells you softly, rolling your panties off your body and down your legs. he tosses the cotton material over to join the other articles of clothing on the ground before his hands spread your legs open, displaying you for himself. “i told you that i got you, pretty girl, i promise.” 

you give him a broken nod, squirming in discomfort.

his hand is back on your pussy in no time, tapping at your drooling hole with two of his fingers. “this still okay?”

you nod again, “yes, gyu.”

he leans down, lips meeting yours as he presses into you with his index and middle fingers. he’s quick to swallow your moan as he stretches you open, feeling the way your gummy walls invite and welcome him in. 

your kiss is more fervent this time around. you can feel his need, the way he shoves his tongue into your mouth, messy and uncoordinated. it has you trapping his fingers between your wet walls, grinding with all your might against his hand. 

you have no clue how he manages to multi-task, both finger-fucking and kissing you into oblivion, but he does both without fail. you whine desperately against his lips, one of your hands coming to wrap around his wrist in hopes to support yourself. 

the wet squelching of your cunt fills the room and it has him pulling away from you for a second to groan out, “you hear that, angel? pretty pussy takin’ my fingers so fuckin’ well.”

you clench around him again, enveloping him as if your life depended on it– you feel so fucking good–

and yet you crave more. it feels good, yes, mingyu always has you seeing stars, but you need more. more of his fingers, more of him. and mingyu is probably well aware of the fact with the way your pussy swallows his fingers, but you know he’s reluctant about giving you too much because of… prior events.

you want that– you want too much. you want to forget about your shitty day. the only thing you want to think about, the only thing you want to be all-consumed by in this very moment, is mingyu. 

“m-more–” you whine against his lips as he wildly pushes in and out of your messy cunt. 

fingers unfaltering in speed, he pulls away from you breathlessly, lips wet and swollen. “more, baby?” 

“mhm,” you give him pleading eyes as you whisper, “wanna cum.”

“fuck,” he mumbles, nodding his head mindlessly as if your words put him into a daze. his fingers pull out and his ring finger joins the two that are already covered in your slick. they push into you slowly, effectively opening you up. “how’s this, beautiful? this enough?” 

you pant, clamping around the digits, squeezing them like a vice. “m-min-” you muffle your moan with your hand, more tears stinging in your eyes.

“no?” he asks, an endearing grin on his face. he maneuvers till he’s in between your legs, he moves further down the bed and your heart thumps erratically in your chest. 

it’s when his lips wrap around your clit while he concurrently thrusts his fingers into your sopping heat that you let out an ear-splitting moan. you lace your fingers into his silky hair and tug at his roots without a care. 

he winces and moans against you at the feeling, the pain making his cock throb against the bed. 

your mind escapes you, melting at the pleasure. his tongue flicks at the sensitive, swollen bud while his fingers curl against your sweet spot, pushing you closer and closer to the edge and you’re on the brink of pure ecstasy. 

“s-so close, fuck, i’m close, gyu.” you babble breathlessly. 

he moans again, tirelessly continuing his brutal attack on your pussy, but the sound waves of said moans shock your entirety and teeter right over the edge. your vision goes black for a solid minute, only a few specks of white in sight, your blinding orgasm taking your entire body over. 

you jerk under him, back arching as you release all over his fingers, the tightrope in your tummy completely unraveling and allowing you to soak his fingers in your syrupy arousal. his mouth moves down as he pulls out and slurps you up obnoxiously, eating you out as you cum.

and you can’t stop shaking, not even after he’s pulled his mouth and fingers away from you. your body twitches and writhes like he’s been working you for hours and mingyu, astounded, has never seen you like this– well, he definitely has– not after a single orgasm, at least.

he shudders, body burning with need. the taste of you alone has his brain a bit fuzzy. “are… you okay? was it too much?” he manages to ask, voice strained. 

mingyu thinks his question falls on deaf ears when all he hears is your heaving and tiny whimpers. he moves to clean you up, partially worried he overstimulated you, but then you make grabby hands at the large, flushed man.

he leans into your touch, allowing you to grab on to him, “what’s wrong?” 

when he looks into your eyes, glassy and glazed over, he notices the hint of need. the pinch of pure desperation. he sees the way you wordlessly ask for more of him, how you wordlessly ask for him to just fuck you already– he can’t deny you. not with the year-long day you’ve had or with the way his cock is basically begging to stuff you full. 

he pecks your lips and sits up again. a soft chuckle escapes him as you chase him for another kiss, but it quickly turns into a sharp breath when he looks down at your puffy, pulsing pussy. you’re crying for him, that much is obvious, but your pussy is just weeping. 

an endless trail of arousal continues to drool out of you and it’s so enticing… yet it feels so tantalizing… 

he feels a bit guilty for being this hard, for wanting to fuck you so bad. it’s in his good nature. you’ve told him countless times that it’s okay, that you need him, but he just wants to make sure. 

“are you sure?” he whispers, so soft that you could almost miss it. “we can just go to bed if you’re not up for this, Y/N.”

you can tell that mingyu is fighting inner turmoil. you know he always feels guilty for fucking you stupid. today, though, you’re sure he feels guilty for the other things. 

you don’t want him to. he shouldn’t feel guilty for something beyond his control, so you muster up all your strength and, in a wavered voice, tell him, “i want you… always want you.”

you hear his breath of relief and see the wobbly smile on his face and you mirror it. he’s quickly ridding his mind of the guilt and shame at your reassurance and lining himself up with your hole. he slides the tip of his cock between your lips and revels in the way you jolt gently. 

“deep breath f’me,” he mutters, knowing you’ll need it. when he hears your shaky inhale, he takes one of his own right as he pushes into you. “fuck,” he says breathlessly. you’re still so fucking tight around him.

a broken whine bubbles up in the back of your throat and mingyu watches the way your eyes screw shut and your jaw goes slack. beautiful, he thinks to himself. even when you’re fucked out of your mind.  

he finds the strength to push past the resistance, slowly shoving himself inside of you till his pelvis meets yours.

when he bottoms out, your face contorts and you’re spluttering over your words, “s-so big,” 

he nods his head like he knows. “i know, baby,” he murmurs, sliding one of his hands into yours. “but you’re so good for me, always take me so well.” he whispers this time as he’s leaning down, moving your intertwined hands next to your head on the pillow. his free hand cups your heated cheek and he studies you for a few minutes, cock fully sheathed inside of you. 

he watches your face change as you become accustomed to the size of him, how your contorted, pained face relaxes as the minutes pass. when your eyes flutter open and you whimper his name, “gyu…” he pulls out a tiny bit before pushing back in– something of an experimental thrust– and discerns your positive reaction. 

he repeats his actions, inching out a bit more and sliding back in with ease. his eyes observe you intently, noticing every reaction you make as he drives his cock in and out of you, each one going deeper than the last. 

his hand squeezes yours and his lips graze against yours, “feel good?” he asks, breath fanning over your face. 

“uh-huh, so good,” you respond in a pant. “th-thank you.”

he falters a bit, but continues to deliver his deep and calculated thrusts. “why are you thanking me, angel?”

“for taking care of me.” 

mingyu’s heart swells and nearly bursts right then and there. his smile practically reaches his ears because mingyu, admittedly, loves being the cause of your pleasure. he’s a giver. he always has been. 

it makes his hips move faster, his hips flushing to yours with every stroke. the bed squeaks under you, loud and annoyingly high-pitched. neither of you are bothered by the sound as you’re wrapped up within each other– you’re moaning and whining for more and more against his lips and he’s promising to deliver through deep groans and grunts against yours. 

and he does deliver. the tip of his cock kisses your cervix and it knocks the wind out of your lungs. you squeeze the hand in yours and your other comes to claw at his body. you dig your nails into the flesh of his arm, biting into him in favor of leaving crescent shapes on his smooth skin. 

he hisses, but the subtle sting just spurs him on. that and the way your pussy contracts around him.

“oh fuck,” you whisper, a high-pitched whine following the words. you’re so sensitive from your previous orgasm that it’s making all too much. your body is buzzing and the familiar knot is forming quicker than usual. “mingyu– mingyu, i-i’m so close.”

he nods, breathing out, “it’s okay, baby– cum for me. you deserve it.” you deserve everything you want, he fails to add. 

you don’t hold back, completely unraveling under him. you’re easily reduced to a mess, gushing all over his cock while you mewl a mantra of his name. your brain leaves you for a solid minute as you mindlessly babble out thank you’s and i love you’s. 

he pulls away from your lips as he watches you come undone. he’s truly so enraptured by you. with your tear-stained cheeks and the drool that trails past your bruised lips. when you tell him you love him– almost incoherently– his dick twitches in your spasming cunt. 

“i love you.” he groans, swiftly rocking into you. you’re sobbing in overstimulation, but he eases you with more praise. “you’re so good, fuck, so perfect. i love you so bad.”

his hand leaves your cheek, instead grabbing your free hand and intertwining your fingers. he pins your hands next to your head, just like the other, and continues fucking you. 

“my pretty girl,” he murmurs, holding your contrastingly smaller hands tightly. “i’m gonna cum inside… you want that right?”

the question triggers your mind back to life. “please,” you moan weakly. “n-need it.”

he twitches again, a throaty groan coming out of him before he gasps. his entire body stiffens before he presses himself all the way inside of you. his groans and grunts distort to needy moans as ropes of his seed paint the velvet walls of your convulsing heat. 

he attempts to control his breathing. after a minute straight of panting and whining, his heaving chest slows and falls into a steady rhythm. 

“are you okay?” he pants, pulling out of you, body still hovering over yours. “was it too much…”

your lips turn up into a tiny, sweet smile and nod your head, “‘m okay, baby.”

“good,” he whispers, leaning in and kissing your lips.

he releases you from his grasp and falls next to you, trying to recover more before cleaning you up. he sighs, soothing a hand over your skin and you scoot into him.

“i wanna help you,” mingyu starts with the softest voice you’ve ever heard after a few minutes of comfortable silence, “you can always tell me when you’re having one of these days, baby… you know that right?”

“i know,” you nod, mindlessly tracing shapes onto his bare chest. 

“i’m always gonna be here for you… as long as you’ll have me.”

“i know.” you repeat, words whispered this time. “you always make the days better– make them shine– you literally have a heart of gold, mingyu.” 

he chuckles, “i don’t,”

“no, you do. just trust me. if we cut you open right now for open heart surgery, there’d be 24 karat gold in the shape of a human heart inside of you.” you tell him.

mingyu smiles widely. happily. 

“just remember that this heart is all yours, angel.” 

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

taglist 🏷️: svt : 🔖 @roe-sinning @hyuk4ngel @bowmonde @5xiang @ttyunz @lunaofthelake @girls4cheol @miriamxsworld @enhacolor @jihoontea

#mingyu smut #svt smut #seventeen smut

[red-writes]

crushing on taiju shiba is so hard because you can never truly get a read on his mood. he’s grown up now and learned how to dial back his personality so not everything he feels is shown on his face but it’s hard to tell wether he likes you back or not, his poker face for romance is incredible. you guys have gone out together a few times you and he has yet to kiss you, even though you’ve dropped multiple hints that you were ready, but when other men try and approach you on the street he makes it clear that “she’s with me.” and they can’t help but back off after being face to face with a man looming at 6′5 and is nothing but thick muscle. crushing on taiju is very difficult because you've watched the sunset together and he’s always whispered “beautiful” and you were never sure if he meant you or the view. he doesn’t compliment you directly and every night before you see you him you doll yourself up hoping that tonight he’d comment on it but every night he looks you up and down, devouring your appearance with his eyes and proceeds to ask you if you’re ready to go. furthermore he only calls you ‘kid’ and sure there was an age difference but the nickname made you seem almost like a little sister and not a love interest. but with taiju there were those sweet times where you'd hear him call you by your name and the sound would have you floating on air.

 crushing on taiju is dangerous because he’s such a gentleman to you. he pulls out your chair, tucks loose hairs for you, covers you with his figure while you adjust your dress and yet he has yet to let you know if his heart is beating just as fast as yours or if he's just being kind to you. and you're getting to the end of your rope- you couldn’t keep sitting in limbo like this, what were you supposed to do it was like torture waiting for him to confess to you and you decided that waiting was no longer an option but you soon discovered that crushing on taiju was actually impossible because as you entered his apartment using the key he gifted you a while back you discovered a girl in his bed while he rested half dressed on the love seat across the room in front of the bed and you froze before mumbling an apology and quickly leaving and shutting the door behind you. you could hear his shuffling behind you, calling your name and the sound of your own sniffles and cries drowned out that sound. once you make it home your phone is blowing up with calls that you know are from him. it just all made sense now, the reason he never actually made a move on you...was she prettier than you? did she have something you didn’t? what made her special to taiju and not you? your own insecurities bubbling to the surface as a result of his actions. you jumped as you heard several rough knocks at your front door. you opened it only to be met with the very man you were trying to avoid. he was out of breath, looking as though he came here on foot. he was breathless as he explained the situation to you. a childhood friend of his just needed a place to stay for the night and that she was moving to another city the next day. there wasn't anything happening between them he explained and the weight of doubt is lifted off your shoulders but his explanation didn't quite answer every single question you had.

“if this is true then why haven't you told me you liked me? or...or that I'm pretty and you enjoy having me around? and you always call me kid- I just..” you felt tears brim your eyes and you didn't want to cry, you didn’t plan on this you just wanted him to like you as much as you liked him. he pulled you into a hug and you began to softly sob into his chest as you hugged him back. he squeezed you tight, his heart hurting- he really didn’t mean to make you cry, hated seeing you sad.

“i do like you..” he sort of whispers out and you freeze for a moment as you hear him out.

“i like you so much and i think that you’re stunning and i love having you around more than anything i..want you around all the time, you’re so special to me” he confesses and you lift your head from his chest and he moves his hands to cup your cheeks. you smiled up at him, cheeks smothered in tears and nose full of snot. taiju didn't care, he thought you looked gorgeous. he leaned down and pressed a kiss on your forehead which made you pout. he noticed your reaction and used his thumbs to wipe your eyes dry.

“don’t want our first kiss to be after i made my girl cry” he says and you giggle at the nickname. 

maybe dating taiju shiba would be even better than you hoped. 

#red writes— ੈ♡˳ #tokyo revengers x reader #fluff #taiju fluff #taiju shiba #taiju x reader #taiju shiba x reader #taiju shiba x reader fluff #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #not proofread #enjoyyyy

[talktolwt]

I would like to focus on the music chosen for Hob Gadling's 80s sequence.

I'm extremely late to the world of The Sandman (finally binged it two weeks ago after my mother had been begging me to watch it with her and now I'm more obsessed than her) Bottom line: I'm unbelievably glad I finally watched this beautiful piece of television.

I have yet to read the comics but as for the first season, I have to say, without a doubt, my favorite episode is Chapter 6: The Sound of Her Wings. Death's 20-min segment is a beauty unto itself, but I'll be focusing on Hob's segment today. Specifically, his 80s scenes.

Considering I'm so late to this fandom and exploring all of its wondrous details and themes, excuse me if this has already been noted. I've been thinking about these details over and over but I need to get it out there in the Sandman world and hear everyone else's thoughts.

*Also excuse the terrible photos - Netflix doesn't let you screenshot and I was too lazy to get another app to let me bypass it. Please bear with my photos of my laptop screen.*

There are three songs that play throughout this sequence.

#1 - "She Drives Me Crazy" by Fine Young Cannibals

I accidentally deleted half my post mid-writing this but here I go again.

As we can see, after the breakup scene, we open up on Hob Gadling (he looks amazing in his 80s look, by the way) and this song plays.

Here are the lyrics:

I mean - where do I even start LMAO.

*Let me just give another note - regardless if you ship Dreamling romantically or not, I will be merely analyzing these lyrics as they are and how they convey Hob's feelings for Dream in general. But, I mean, the songs are THERE, the text is THERE. So do with that what you will.*

This will go for the following two songs as well, but these songs are placed with meaningful intention. Each of these offer a unique lens and dive into Hob's feelings.

I won't be annoying and over-explain anything, but the lyrics are clear I feel:

"She drives me crazy" - cough

"Things you do don't seem real" - in Hob's view, Dream literally is an enigma. Hob has no idea the capacities, the limits, and even the name of this being he meets every century.

"This waiting 'round's killing me" - well.

"Everything you say is lies" - now I wouldn't say particularly lies, but Dream does keep and omit things from Hob. Understandably, Hob would find himself in a confused limbo with Dream.

Here's the kicker:

"I won't make it on my own/No one likes to be alone." - HELLO. I mean, if this isn't the core message and pinnacle of Dream and Hob's lesson to immortality.

As Death mentions earlier in the episode, around 18:10, "Most of us will be glad for the company of a friend."

I feel I could go on forever and ever about the beauty of this episode and how well The Sound of Her Wings and Men of Good Fortune intertwine. They beautifully complement each other as stories lamenting the dichotomy of life and death, and the joys of humanity.

But essentially, Death reteaches Dream how beautiful humans can truly be, and in this pivotal moment, she says this zinger of a line. The camera was initially on Death but for THIS line, it cuts to Dream.

BECAUSE - poor Dream is definitely in need a friend.

Which is then shown to the audience by the 30-min long Hob Gadling sequence that ensues, and we see Dream's aversion to needing someone, to needing a friend.

But I digress - back to the song, and that one line about not wanting to be alone.

That is such a poignant line, because as much as Dream felt alone and needed company, so does Hob? An immortal, constantly seeing the death of others around him, his companions and family long gone, he needs someone.

Considering this 80s sequence ruminates so heavily on post-breakup feelings, Hob is missing Dream dearly. His constant in life.

I'm rambling too much, onto the next one!

#2 - "Shattered Dreams" by Johnny Hates Jazz

Time skip to perhaps a few hours later, who knows. We see Hob still waiting for Dream, alone in the pub.

Hm.

Literally what else could I say. I'm being slapped in the face with pining and angst and longing.

Here are the lyrics:

Some noteworthy lyrics:

"So much for your promises/They died the day you let me go" - this breakup man

"Caught up in a web of lies" - another lie motif

"I thought it was you/Who would stand by my side" - the theme of Dream and Hob being constants in each other's lives

"Shattered dreams" - I could scream. The title of the song. SHATTERED. DREAMS. giggling rn.

"Woke up to reality" - I think that's a very interesting line toeing between the constant references of the Waking and the Dreaming

Basically, I've been noting these evident similarities within the songs to align themselves to Dream and Hob's situation, and it's clear that the director/writers chose these songs with intent of it paralleling Dreamling.

So that makes it even more insane when lines like "From this empty heart" are meant to parallel Hob. Like.

Okay, last song.

#3 - "Keep On Moving" by Soul II Soul

This song plays as the night progresses. It's late, it's clear Dream isn't showing up, and Hob is feeling pretty final about that, and perhaps he's accepted it at this point. Dream isn't coming.

So this is where he speaks to the bartender and that scene ensues.

Here are the lyrics:

The themes of time and clocks are super prevalent within this song, and again it's once more clear how heavily this reflects and represents Hob.

Noteworthy lyrics:

"Why do people choose to live their lives this way?" - I think this also uniquely touches on the general aspect of humanity and one's reason to live/love life. Dream battles with his confusion/slight disappointment for humanity at the beginning, as he asks Death, "Why would any sensible creature crave an eternity of this?" And then Hob helps Dream realize why there's so much to live for. (24:30)

"I know the time will come today/The time will come one day"

"Walking alone in my own way" - Again this idea of walking alone and needing company.

"You'll be in my life, my life always" - Dream and Hob being constants again.

This all goes to say - Hob cares. He cares for Dream.

And I just think that's very beautiful. The magnitude with which Dream's absence means to him and how much their friendship/companionship both means to each of them. I just think their connection is a beautiful thing that I love seeing and rewatching. Wonderfully, these songs give the audience even more layered insight into this connection.

This was super long, and I apologize if I went on some tangents. But I also just couldn't help it, The Sandman is so incredibly rich in its storytelling and its connections and dynamics that I had to write this all down. I also just very much appreciate the amount of care and detail that goes into every aspect of television, and needle drops such as these three songs are no exception.

Thank you for sticking with me through this! Can't wait for season 2!

#i have more thoughts #i think i will never fully be satisfied with this post #there will always be too much to say #but wow #they CARE #there's LOVE there #genuine love #i love them #dream the endless #lord morpheus #king of dreams #hob gadling #hob #dreamling #dreamling meta #dream x hob #the sandman #music as outlets to the soul #and emotion #music #the sound of her wings #men of good fortune #i hope whoever read this enjoyed! #thank you

[chocolatecoveredbrusselsprout]

Okay would LOVE to see some discourse/hear other people’s thoughts (respectfully plz no one be rude for no reason) cuz I HAVE SOME.

I have never liked the Raven Queen. The Matron of Ravens. I wanted to so badly! Her aesthetic? Iconic. The way she OUSTED the previous god of death? KILLED him? As a mortal? And she ascended to godhood? A total flex. Like damn fr. BUT

I can’t get over what she did to Vax. If she just hadn’t taken advantage of him, I could love her so much. But I can’t. My disdain has also grown the further into Campaign 3 we get and the more I read.

Some Reasons!

1. She took advantage of Vax when he was in a weak spot. He was struggling, depressed, and desperate at the sudden loss of his sister. She used this to make a deal with him.

2. She took Vax immediately after they defeated Vecna. Why could he not live out his life as her champion? (I do know that because of the Disintegrate spell, there was no body to revive him so this would kind of “go against” her rules?)

3. Why make Vax her champion? He wasn’t willing. Yes, he offered himself, but that was more so coercion. Consent should be enthusiastic! Vax’ildan was desperate and afraid to lose the ones he loved, so he made deals with a god previously unknown to him. We’ve seen that the Matron has MANY followers in Campaign 3. There were so many she could have chosen to be her champion. Who would have WANTED to be her champion. Why Vax? Are we to truly believe that in all of Exandria, no other follower of the RQ was fate-touched? (If that was her reason)

4. She also made him her *eternal* champion. (This is part especially where I’d love to hear others’ thoughts). Vax does not get to die. Not like most people. He is now stuck in that same limbo as the Raven Queen. Yes, he gets to shepherd souls to The Other Side. Purvan did. But Purvan GOT TO REST. He served his time, and then got to pass on. As of right now, Vax will never know rest, and I hate that she stole it from him. If Vax has died-died, eventually he would be reunited with his loved ones in the afterlife. Now, when they die, they’ll see him, but only briefly as he must go back to his ETERNAL DUTY. May I remind you that he did not ask for that position?

Also, doesn’t that kind of contradict her whole “death is a part of life” thing, having an eternal champion? Yes, Vax is now a celestial and he did “die,” but he never passes on to the afterlife. Some blurry lines there.

5. The Matron has punished Vax for visiting/“interfering” with his loved ones. In latest 4-sided dive, Matt clarified that the first attack on Zephrah/Keyleth, Vax showed up and saved her (that’s how Otohan knew he would come again). Matt continued that his actions were technically against the RQ’s commands, and that she punished him for it (we don’t know how). Now, Vax’ildan is stuck in a painful orb as a lens, and she has done nothing to help.

So that’s all I have at the moment. What do y’all think? Please share your thoughts or tag me in stuff cuz I want to read more on it. It continually bugs me that the Matron was lonely in her task (fair) and that she may have not realized that before ascending, but that does not mean that she should force Vax to the same fate/keep him to herself.

(Also, I think Gargo/Shithead may have been her animal companion? That will be another post though)

#critical role #vaxildan #vaxilorb #orbildan #campaign 1 #campaign 3 #cr campaign three #raven queen #matron of ravens #champion of ravens #feel free to discuss #cr spoilers #vex and vax #vax'ildan #cr vax #vox machina #legend of vox machina #bells hells #otohan thull #ludinus da'leth #shithead

[limeade-l3sbian]

Sorry, this is probably a heavy thing to put on, feel free to delete if this is too much for you to handle, I promise it won't upset me. I'm really considering suicide. I have a lot going on in my personal life and now that my eyes have been opened to how much the world hates women I find it difficult to cope. I truly don't know how to navigate the world knowing half the population wants to cut me up, use my reproductive organs, rape me, kill me, slather me in makeup, mutilate me, beat me, degrade and humiliate me just for being female. I can't trust or make friends anymore. I feel hopeless. Idk what I expect you to say, I just need to get this out and know that at least one person sees it and understands.

I don't know how helpful this will be, but I hope you know that I've been feeling the same way as well. It's part of why I haven't really been super active lately. I've been going through it as well, so I at the very least, hope you don't think you're alone.

This is a very shitty world and we are in this strange limbo right now of things either staying shit or getting shittier. And it's important to me that I don't give you advice that wouldn't personally help me. I think the best advice I can give you is this:

You're not going crazy. This hopelessness you feel is happening in record numbers. And your feelings about all this are completely valid. I hate that they're valid. I wish I could tell you, "But why do you think that's what's happening?" I wish i could be indignant and suggest that perhaps you were just looking too deeply into nothing. But you're not, and that's the biggest curse in being aware of the world around you.

I don't have the perfect answer for you. I wish I could write three paragraphs worth of inspiration and you hit me up two minutes later and tell me that after reading all that, now you want to conquer the world and nothing was going to stand in your way. I don't even have the perfect answer for myself.

I guess the best answer I can give you is that if you left, the world would just be a little more shittier. It would have just a little less sparkle to it that it is already sparse on. Someone's life (including mine, now that I know you exist), will dim in its quality if you were to do it. That hope that everyone grabs onto will lose just a little more grip without you. The world itself would shift in a way that isn't perceivably to you or me.

And that's not to say that you would be selfish to do it. An argument that I absolutely hate. But life would just go from 480p to 360p.

You should stay because what you are contemplating is going to come anyway. I have a post somewhere on here where i talk about how if you are suicidal, the best way to go about doing it is to live. Go out and live more than you ever have. That's when most people die. When they are out living and something out of their control happens. I would rather you die while ziplining with friends than crying and alone in a bathroom.

This sounds harsh, but I would rather all of this than give you some bullshit, "Oh, it's okay, sweetie. Have you talked to anyone? What about therapy? Did you do breathing exercises?"

You should go out and live, anon. And that doesn't even mean spend money. A full life isn't inevitable, but death is.

#ask

[honourablejester]

I’m watching Pathfinder lore videos, because I just enjoy looking at other people’s worldbuilding, and a tiny little nugget stuck with me. I was watching this video on the demon lords of the Abyss, and it came to Angazhan, the great ape demon of jungles, apes and tyranny. And it just mentions that his realm, Ahvoth-Kor, is formed in a great ravine in the Abyss, with jungles on either wall, but gravity pulls towards the walls, so as you stand on the ‘ground’ in one jungle on one wall, you can see the other above you. Trees and rope bridges cross the gap, which must be fascinating as you cross the halfway point and gravity abruptly reverses itself. And I just. I mean, Angazhan doesn’t do much for me as himself, but his realm caught my attention the most in the entire video, just for that one detail. Because it’s so cool. He lives in a folded realm. You can climb a pillar to the sky and then fall up the top half of it to the ground on the far side.

And it just made me realise that I love the Abyss, or rather the potential of the Abyss, in both its D&D and Pathfinder incarnations. Because chaos gets all the cool world states. Because chaos feels free to break the rules and get weird, and therefore give you fantastic landscapes like Ahvoth-Kor. Which is actually quite normal, aside from the fact that it’s folded double on itself. You could go so much weirder.

But, at the same time, I also hate the Abyss, just slightly. Because you can’t get weird, apparently, without also getting evil. Because, while I have seen the chaotic good and chaotic neutral planes mentioned, they don’t get anywhere near as much attention. How many people even know the names of the good-aligned chaotic planes? And, yes, Limbo and the Maelstrom are more of a thing, and the Maelstrom at least is fantastically cool, but they’re not focused on really either. Because they don’t have cool themed villains hanging out in them. Which is, granted, another excellent selling point of the Abyss. Demon lords are a lot more idiosyncratic than archdevils, more, again, weird and wonderful. On the D&D side, which I’m more familiar with, I do adore Juiblex, Zuggtmoy and Fraz-Urb’luu. When you are shaping your realm out of raw chaos to match your personality, it gives you a degree of wild customisation that more lawful, rigid planes just don’t allow. The demon lords are exciting, in a way archdevils just aren’t for me.

But. It means that if you want really cool fantastic landscapes and batshit world states, you have to go to an evil plane where everything is trying to kill slash torture you. The good aligned chaotic planes of the respective ttrpgs, Elysium and Arborea and the Beastlands, are to a large extent just ‘unchecked nature’, the extremely pastoral idea of untouched wilderness. If you want to see truly cool and alien and fantastic things, you have to get tortured for it.

Or, granted, try the Maelstrom in Pathfinder. The Maelstrom is really cool.

Like. If they’re both formed from raw chaos, why can’t good be equally as batshit? Why can’t you have, I don’t know, a chaotic good sea god whose ship sails upside down on the surface of a vast ocean of air, and whose sea sprite petitioners venture down in diving bells to marvel at the stars? (Sidenote: there could also be more good-aligned sea gods, just as a general note). Why isn’t there a heaven for the souls of subterranean travellers and explorers where they get to spend eternity spelunking absolutely mind-boggling and impossible caves that open out into the raw foam of chaos? Why couldn’t the chaotic good plane also be a nested stew of personalised bubble worlds shaped from raw fundament by strong-willed but mildly-to-majorly batshit themed entities, that are just in this case also friendly and unlikely to torture you out of hand?

Why is good so tame? Even at its wildest, it’s so tame compared to how batshit and weird evil gets to be. Like, yes, good means safety, but safe doesn’t have to mean ‘bounded’. It could mean ‘I will touch my grace upon you so we can witness wonders together’. It could mean ‘let me make a place where fire does not burn so I can turn a sun inside out and let you experience the strange geometries of its interior’.

I just. The Abyss is really, really cool, this strange bubble realm of nested psychoses written onto reality by larger than life beings. I do love it. But. You could have that, and not have it built on suffering. Not instead of, but as well. With equal weight.

Let good be weird too. Let chaos in general just be the place where both horrors and wonders beyond imagining are explored.

As another, related complaint, I know it's to do with game balance and player capabilities, but it's also a bummer that the outer planes in general are something most PCs will never experience first hand, owing to being in general fantastically lethal and/or hard to get to. I just wanna wander Zuggtmoy's fungal fields, and climb rope bridges across the gravity line in Ahvoth-Kor!

Anyway. Carry on.

#pathfinder #d&d #worldbuilding #the abyss #chaos #alignment #i get that the aligned planes in general is dodgy worldbuilding to start with #but also it's such a waste of chaos not to go full weird with it #if this is the exercise we're doing #how are we conceiving chaos in relation to morality #why is good considered inherently less chaotic #also just let me explore some weird-ass landscapes #i just really want to

[tainbocuailnge]

So a friend of mine who I talk with about FGO says Ashiya Douman is one of the most irredeemable assholes in all of FGO b/c his acts of evil were way more personal than most antagonists and he was ALWAYS like this (it isn't just servant BS), the entire reason the Heian-Kyo story exists is b/c Chaldea is going after him so even Ritsuka should hate him. I just want to know how much of a monster he truly is or if my friend is just SUPER fixating on the bad parts (it helps to get other opinions).

obligatory disclaimer that i read heian kyo in the form of fallacies' fantranslations and I'm still in atlantis on NA

at the end of heian kyo we get a scene of the living ashiya douman trying to kill himself because he knows all the crimes caster of limbo committed were rooted in feelings that he indeed harbours and it horrifies him. he's horrified that all it took to break him was hearing "at this rate you'll never surpass seimei even once" in his own voice. he's horrified that he's capable of doing the things caster of limbo did and his sense of morality says he should kill himself for knowing the conditions under which he will break. it's seimei who talks him out of it, even though seimei knows douman in panhuman history was nearing his breaking point at this time and would soon indeed start committing numerous great evils.

is ashiya douman an irredeemable person? caster of limbo, who is ashiya douman's inferiority complex over forever being seimei's ridiculed rival combined with two gods who are both ill-defined but likewise designated as targets for hatred, wants you to believe this, because the purpose given to him by the alien god is to be an insufferable irredeemable clown bastard. ashiya douman also believes this, because the feelings at the root of caster of limbo are real. is it true though?

although the historical abe no seimei is widely known and beloved, and ashiya douman is consequently almost as much of a household name, not much is known about douman at all beyond the few stories where he gets clowned on to make seimei look better. is douman a villain just because we mostly know him from stories where the hero defeats him? caster of limbo was unable to become a beast of humanity because he lacked the love for humanity necessary to become a stepping stone for humanity's growth. he also failed to become a plague upon humanity because ashiya douman does not hate humanity and does not want to destroy it. ultimately, all he ever wanted was simply to surpass his friend and rival seimei even just once.

limbo is the afterlife for people not evil enough for hell and not good enough for heaven. when he tries to do good he fails to become a hero. when he tries being evil he fails to become the final boss. there is much evil in ashiya douman, certainly, and you need far more than two hands to count his crimes. there is much evil in many people, and there are many circumstances in which it will reveal itself. he's good at psychologically torturing people because he's intimately familiar with how insecurities can ruin a person and his job as alter ego was to bring out the worst in people. his acts of evil are way more personal than most others because he has no greater goal he wants to achieve, he has no other purpose than to be an insufferable irredeemable clown until he's backed into a corner and realizes that he does have something he wants to achieve, namely proving that he can achieve anything at all.

if you ask me, ashiya douman's character is meant to make you ask how useful "redeemability" even is in assessing a person's worth. when playing house with nursery rhyme he requests the role of mother in law because the nature of his legend is to be the hated person that makes everyone else look better by comparison, regardless of anything he actually did. he's obsessed with people who lost something important to them that they want to get back at all cost, and he gets his claws in them by offering them a way to get revenge, to show those who wronged them what they can really do. he wants to help just as much as he wants to hurt, and in many of the cases in the game those two end up being the same thing and mostly causing a lot of problems for everyone and especially chaldea, but that doesn't exclude that there are circumstances in which he would have helped more than hurt. if things were different maybe he wouldn't have ended up like this, and who's to say things can't still be different?

is ashiya douman irredeemable? this is not the right question to ask in this game. nobody in fate is ever truly irredeemable as long as they're willing to learn and grow, and alter ego ashiya douman shows up in chaldea so that he might learn to understand love.

#mystech master #king of asks #down with the clown #metapost

[reds-skull]

Not Alive, Nor Dead

[PREV PART] [AO3]

Okay, maybe I felt a little bad for leaving y'all on such a cliffhanger, so here's the next chapter, special delivery.

Ghost’s footsteps echo on the mall’s floor, his muscles screaming at him to stop and rest. 

He ignores them, not like he can feel it much. His entire being is focused on finding Johnny. 

While he was walking down south, he kept having this intrusive thought to open Limbo again. Just to check if… he could find a face there, ink-covered and muted, of Johnny.

He growls. He doesn’t entertain the thought.

Ghost starts shouting for Johnny, hoping for the best case scenario, where his comms are the only thing damaged on his person.

He should’ve known to never hope.

After time stopped having any meaning, the minutes of silence piling up like heavy rocks on his chest, Ghost starts truly fearing Johnny might be gone.

He sees the south exit, the doors closed shut. Something numb spreads through him.

Ghost heaves, stare fixated on the damning evidence that Soap never left the building, when he hears a groan.

“...ugh…” a familiar voice pierces him.

Ghost turns to it, heart finally beating, and he finds Johnny on the floor, body struggling to move.

He hesitates only for a moment before breaking into a run towards him, the blood burning from his chest to his legs, heralding the message ‘he’s alive! He’s alive!’

Ghost slides to a stop, about to take his Sergeant in his arms and never let go, when he sees the blood.

Soap’s face, contorted in pain, covered in dark red on the left. Ghost shakily turns his head to the side, watching as blood oozes out of the bullet wound… his temple is pierced. He turns him the other way, a matching gash on his right.

Soap groans weakly, and Ghost lifts him slightly to let his head rest on his thighs. He knows he’s cold, or he feels so at least, but the floor is colder.

His breath stutters thinking of where the bullet went through. He said middle was a few things… Soap might not wake up until he heals.

Ghost brushes a hand over Johnny’s hair, some of it matted with blood. He carefully untangles the ends when the man stirs.

“... Johnny? You with me?” he mumbles softly, and it still sounds too loud for his ears.

Soap’s eyes scrunch under his brows, “urgh…fuck… ma heid’s minced…” his beautiful eyes open to look up, blinking to focus. His face is contorted in confusion.

Ghost can feel himself smile in relief, “morning”.

Johnny blinks a little more before abruptly pushing himself off Ghost, growling with a gravely voice, “the fuck are you doin’?!”

Ghost instantly crawls back, his heart dropping, “shit, did I hurt you-”

“Who teh fuck are ye?!” Soap shouts, glaring at him.

“Wha- you don’t-” Ghost sputters, at a loss.

The Sergeant ignores him, clutching at his head, “where are we…? Where did you bring me?!” he seethes through clenched teeth.

What? He doesn’t remember the mission-

He doesn’t remember.

The bullet… 

“How old are you?” Ghost hopes against hope he’s wrong.

“The fuck’s it to ye?” Soap snarls. He sighs a moment later, looking away with contempt, “seventeen.”

Fuck… Ghost can feel his hands shaking. Johnny just went back ten years mentally. Of course he doesn’t remember the mission, or him. 

He doesn’t remember his own death.

Soap seems to search for something, unsheathing a knife he found strapped to his shoulder, and clumsily jumps at Ghost.

“Listen here you creepy bastard, ye better tell me what the fuck is going on before I make ye!” he waves the knife in front of his eyes. 

Ghost’s eyes haven’t left Johnny’s. He never looked at him with such… hate. 

Ghost directs the knife’s point away from his eyes, “I’m a Lieutenant under the British army, you better settle down, soldier.” it hurts to talk to Johnny like a stranger, but he can’t risk him deeming himself an enemy.

Soap immediately backs away, surprised, “ah-sorry, sir. I just… I cannae remember shite…” he trails off.

Ghost sighs, “we were on a mission, it went to shit. You hit your head at some point, probably have temporary amnesia. Sit down before you hurt yourself further.”

That seems to calm Johnny, and he carefully lowers himself to the ground.

“What do you remember, Sergeant?”

“Sergeant?! Fuck, how much did I forget?!” 

Bloody hell, he needs to be more careful with what he fucking spouts. “It will come back to you, Johnny.”

Soap frowns, “stop callin’ me that. I think I would’ve remembered a fella like ye, with the fuckin’ Halloween getup ye got there.”

‘You’d think that, wouldn’t you.’ Ghost bitterly thinks to himself.

He sighs, “talk to me then, tell me what you do remember.”

Soap tenses, “I don’t even know yer fucking name, and I’m supposed to tell ye everything?” there’s something behind the anger, that Ghost recognises from many weeks ago, in a dark barrack room, lit only by furious fire.

Johnny is scared.

“Simon Riley.”

Soap stops, and looks up. For a moment, Ghost can almost pretend he knows him, with the way Johnny’s eyes light up in reverence, somehow knowing how this is truly the first time he’s heard that name.

But the heavy fog of nonrecognition over his eyes is not clearing away. Still, Johnny starts talking, “I… I joined the army a year ago. Ma was furious.” He starts, “wait, no, that was… two years ago?”

Ghost inhales shakily. Soap moved to eighteen now?

“Go on.”

The Sergeant leans back, wincing as he places his head gently against the wall, “I… tried for the SAS. They told me I’m too young.”

For some reason, imagining young Soap getting rejected makes him huff.

“I went on a few missions… oh.”

Soap’s face pales, “I… I remember the first person I killed. He… killed my squad mate. I…” He looks ashamed, “for a moment I was proud that I managed to shoot him first but - fuck, you must think I’m fuckin’ pathetic.” he looks at Ghost, the anger in his eyes mellowing.

“No shame in feeling guilt, shows you’re a good man.” he tells him again, “if it helps, I’ve killed more people than you can imagine.”

Johnny dead pans him, looking unimpressed, “aye, sir, very comforting.” he huffs sarcastically, before he gets that far away look he wears when memories flood his mind, “tried for SAS again…” He looks up, smile melting Ghost’s heart, “I got in! I actually got in! Youngest to ever do it!” 

“Good man, John, knew you can do it.” the name acrid in his mouth, but he wants to encourage this version of Soap. Despite everything, he can’t help but be fond of him.

Soap chuckles, “feck off, Simon, I bet ye already knew it.”

Oh, his heart is a treacherous beast, with the way it’s banging at his chest at the sound of Johnny saying his name, wrapping around smiling lips.

The Scot quiets down, continuing to observe the memories trickling in, “after my first mission they started calling me… Soap? Shite, please tell me the name didn’t stick.”

Ghost has the pleasure to inform Soap, “you’re actually quite proud of that one.”

Soap grimaces, “awa an’ bile yer head!”

“Speak English”

Johnny gives him a shit-eating grin, “means fuck off, sir”

“Much better. How old are you, Soap?”

The Scot contemplates his answer for a moment, “...twenty. Still going on a lot of missions, I’m studying to be a demolition expert- I am a demolition expert.” he corrects himself mid-sentence, “fuck, blowing shit up is so fun, do I still do that?”

Ghost bitter-sweetly reminisces over what lays in Johnny’s future, “you’ll see.”

Soap pouts, “cryptic bastard… I still don’t remember ye.” He starts getting up, Ghost immediately closing in to fuss over the Scot, “stay down!”

“Shouldn’t we go to exfil, sir? I can walk…” he raises an eyebrow at him.

He has a point, but Ghost worries Johnny’ll get overwhelmed when he learns he knows no one around him. He barely dealt with him without getting into a fight.

Then again, Ghost might be the most uninviting person on earth. Even fucking Shepherd looks more friendly than a giant man wearing a skull mask.

“It’s not your legs I’m worried about, Soap. Let’s not jostle your noggin around, alright?” he pushes lightly at his shoulders, making him slide back down. “Now, tell me what else you’ve got going for you.”

Johnny scrunches his face in concentration, and Ghost watches as terror slowly paints itself over his features. He wants to ask why before he remembers himself.

Soap is likely 21 now. 6 years ago-

“I died.” the flames on his fingers light for the first time since Ghost found him. “I saw moths,  they were glowing like they were on fire…a Reaper… it told me…”

Johnny takes a deep breath, staring right at Ghost’s eyes, making his heart stop, “my team is dead. It saved me, not them, because of what I wanted.” 

Bright fire flickers in the edges of his vision, but Ghost can’t look away from Johnny’s eyes, the emotions passing through them a window to his mind.

“It asked me what I wanted” Soap is barely breathing now, whispering the tale of his horrible second birth, “I said I wanted to live. It said…”

“I wanted revenge. On the man who killed my friends. He-”

Something dark makes itself known on Soap’s face, the flames now covering his entire forearms, white-hot and wild, “Konchar.” his blue eyes wide, he looks at Ghost with such hatred he feels something akin to fear.

“He killed them, Simon.” a voice so twisted comes from Soap’s mouth, “he murdered them, I needed to destroy him. I-”

Johnny’s face slackens, all rage replaced by agony, his eyes watering, and Ghost sharply inhales.

“...Soap?”

Johnny pushed himself away from ghost, further into the wall, mumbling, “n-no, no I couldn’t have- I didn’t- I didn’t want this!” he starts hyperventilating.

“Johnny” Ghost goes to place a hand on his shoulder, worry overruling panic, “you have to breathe-”

Blue eyes, dripping with little teardrops, plead Ghost for forgiveness, “I’m- I’m a monster - How could I do this-” Johnny chokes on sobs, “why did it choose me?! It should’ve let me die!” He curls on himself, shaking, yelling, “IT SHOULD’VE KILLED ME! IT SHOULD’VE-”

Simon took hold of Johnny, smothering his screams in his chest, wrapping arms around his body, as if he could protect him from the onslaught of the worst John MacTavish has ever known.

As if Simon was ever successful at protecting that which he holds dear.

Johnny grabs at his shirt, the flames burning so hot they scorch through his clothes, right down to his chest, to his lungs, to his heart.

Simon doesn’t let go, even after the fire dies down, the wailing dims, and Johnny is no longer shaking. He doesn’t let go, until Johnny pipes up from his place near his chest.

“Ghost?”

He relaxes his hold on him, letting Johnny lift his head, eyes red-rimmed and face watery. Only when he sees recognition in his eyes does Simon realize, that he never told Johnny his callsign.

“Johnny?” he gently says, damn hope making itself known in his words.

Soap gives him a weak smile, full of sorrow, but so tender, Simon wants to sear it into his brain, “I remember everything. You. The mission. I…” He rubs lightly at his right temple, the gunshot wound fully healed, “one of those weird things shot me right before I escaped. Did you… with Limbo…?”

Simon takes in a deep breath, with the way he finally found the Johnny he was looking for, “I did. Barely got them reigned in.”

“And Gaz…?”

“Secured with the kidnapped revenants, called in exfil for us.”

He liked the relief on Johnny’s face, “thank Reapers.”

“Rather you thank me, Sergeant.” Simon grumbles, smiling when he hears Johnny’s laugh, and feels his fist tap his shoulder.

“Awa an’ bile yer heid, sir” 

“Oh, I know that one.”

“Ye feckin’ better”

Garrick spots them when they both make their way to exfil, their helo already waiting for them, and sprints at them at full speed. Ghost has half a mind to dodge him when Gaz decided to collide with Soap instead.

“FUCK BOTH OF YOU! WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY ANYTHING ON COMMS?! I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!”

“I’m sorry, Gaz…” Soap mumbles under the weight of the Sergeant.

Gaz turns to glare at Ghost, “you! You’re the one that needs to apologize!”

Ghost huffs, shifting his weight uncomfortably. He really should’ve radioed Garrick that his Sergeant is alive, but he was… a little preoccupied with his heart splattering on the floor.

He looks behind Gaz, at two people laying inside the helo, “the revenants need medical?”

“You will need medical after I’m through with you-” Gaz starts.

“Sergeant”

“I called in a medic, he said they’ve just been drugged for transport by El Sin Nombre, they’ll wake up in a few hours.”

Ghost nods, “good lad, now” He lifts Johnny up, the poor sod stuck under Garrick, “we’re RTB. I’ve had enough of this fuckin’ mall.”

Soap smirks, “not a fan of shopping, sir?” he jokes, but his tone is flatter than usual.

Ghost looks over Johnny, at the state he was left in, at the sorrow fogging his eyes. He aches to clear it away, but at the moment nothing feels strong enough to bring Soap a wind of change.

“Not in the slightest, Johnny.”

On the helo, Gaz tried to lift their spirits, but both himself and Soap are too busy mulling over the day.

As the minutes pass, Ghost’s feelings take a backseat, and he combs through what Johnny told him.

‘Konchar’...

Something ignites in Ghost. Johnny, unknowingly, has given him what might be a knife to cut the red tape that holds his file together.

He needs to talk to Laswell. If there’s someone that can find out what happened at Johnny’s Reaping by a single name alone, it would be her.

Johnny stares out of the window, tracing the hull of the chopper with a finger, its flame dimmed and mellow.  

Ghost wonders what he sees, as the clouds pass by, what his eyes reflect.

And he wonders, just how much pain he hides behind them.

Finally, something is revealed about Soap's Reaping, just in the most painful way I could think of, with him literally reliving the worst day in his life :D

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod ghost #cod soap #cod gaz #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #revenant au #call of duty fic #call of duty fanfic #call of duty modern warfare #cod fic #cod fanfic #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #this made me realize im getting much faster at writing #2k words took me 4-5 hours before #this one took 2 #granted i have been planning this chapter for months bc it was just one of the #many scenarios i daydreamed about before i even thought of writing revenant au as a fic #but still! Improvement! #also any theories as to who the 2 revenants are? bc they are ppl you would know...

[chirpsythismorning]

Noah promoting Byler was very likely something he was TOLD to do... so let's talk about it.

I see a lot of people hating on Noah, Finn and the Netflix accounts in general for hyping up Byler.

Noah especially has gone out of his way to say he ships it, but I don't see anyone talking about what has always been so obvious to me.

The reality is, Noah would not say a word about Byler, at all, if it was something he knew was not going anywhere. In fact, if that was truly the case, I think he would be prohibited from it.

With how bad queer-baiting is, I think the Duffer's definitely would have protected him from getting backlash for it, by telling him to avoid humoring Byler at all costs.

Instead, we see Noah not only acknowledging Byler and saying he ships it (numerous times), but also liking/commenting on Byler related posts, even going as far as to steer questions towards Byler in a positive light, as if he's trying to convince us that this is something more of us should open our minds to.

And this just REAKS of the Duffer's trying to warm people up to Byler, and with the only person that can do it at the moment.

Since Will is now canonically in love with Mike, this means that the actor playing him, saying he ships it outright, doesn't exactly qualify as a spoiler.

Now, Finn or Netflix being outright about it, would be a major no no, because it would be a spoiler for the character who plays Mike to say he ships Byler (his stuttering response to Byler happening is still iconic), as well as for the official accounts to throw out M*leven entirely and throw in Byler fully. The show is still technically in limbo with this love triangle. Which is why we see Finn and the Netflix accounts putting an effort to promote both M*leven and occasionally Byler, because although they still want to keep things a surprise for the most part, they definitely have an obligation to start giving at least some hints.

(I think it's also funny that David Harbour has a record for just sort of saying whatever he wants when it comes to spoilers. Like the whole "he likes someone else in the group" moment was definitely not planned and everyones reaction was visibly just shock because they all know they're not allowed to talk about this, but because it's David whose taking the lead they all just follow along with him amused.)

Otherwise, besides the main key-players, it's still something they probably want to keep under-wraps until season 5 is right around the corner. They are indeed stuck in limbo right now.

Just thinking realistically in terms of them preparing for endgame in season 5, it makes sense that they started to kick things off in season 4, in a way that's still really impartial, because as time goes on, the shift to Byler will be a lot easier than if they just went from nothing to everything all at once.

This is why it also makes sense for them to still promote M*leven, seeing as there may only be a little time left for them to do so.

But when we start getting official updates and bts and leaks and then eventually promo for season 5, I think it's very likely Will and Mike are going to be heavily associated with each other just as much in promo, if not more, than they were in season 4. And let's be honest, they were promoted A LOT together (there isn't a m*leven poster/billboard for s4 that I know of...).

With all the backlash they've got for queer-baiting, them going all in with Byler again would be a good indication to me that they are indeed going that route and we can start clowning indefinitely.

#byler #stranger things #byler season 4 #byler proof #byler evidence #byler st4 #mike wheeler #will byers #mike x will #will x mike

[sonnet-of-anarchy]

Had a think about it, and I believe the finale was going to cause issues regardless because, really, we’re never going to be satisfied with an ending we didn’t truly want to happen & that’s ok. It’s ok that it’s divisive because people process differently and we’d all an alternative ideology as to how ghosts should conclude.

Essentially, I’m glad the team could end the show on their terms & write a finale they were happy with, but I equally understand people’s dissatisfaction. For me, there were parts I enjoyed and parts that felt off.

I enjoyed the chess husbands, naturally - Julian’s compulsion to make Robin happy really touched me because he’s never really cared about anyone like that before. Unlike s4 he wasn’t doing it to prove a point - it just came naturally. I thought it was interesting to utilise the ghost’s powers in a situation that ‘made them known’ - I know a similar thing happened in the grey lady but I still enjoyed the irony of Julian finally making an impact on the world but, even in death, it wasn’t with a positive outcome. Some things never change (a point I’ll get to later).

The humour landed in places for me too, like Robin being called a pet and his ‘no’s at feeling Christmassy. I also loved the orgy cut & Cap’s baby noises.

What didn’t work for me, like most people, was their leaving after the last resort’s conclusion. It felt a little contradictory - but half of me feels this episode was written/planned quite some time ago hence some characters regressing to their roots (Thomas and Alison, Kitty’s Jealousy).

I thought Robin’s end speech, for a Robin speech, lacked its usual profundity. Yeah, it had the tear-jerking quality because it was finale but substance-wise it felt quite generic and flat? Idk. Like, we know Christmas isn’t about commercialised commodities, every piece of Christmas media on the planet had told us this.

Equally, the ambiguity of the ending/lack of faces (for me) missed the usual friendliness and domestic quality of ghosts (like the s3 finale, for example). As much as knowing all the ghosts were there it felt odd not to see them as throughout the show the charm came from sharing Alison’s gift, as an audience.

There were a few plot points that to me didn’t quite work for me too. Robin said the ever since Alison he’d enjoyed Christmas yet he doesn’t feel the spirit until she decides to leave? The focus on Mike’s Mum was interesting, but as stated her lone, ‘overbearing’ trope had been utilised previously and took the attention away from the MCs somewhat. Personally, I was never a massive fan of the baby plot so I knew that wouldn’t appeal to me so much. The characters regressing to pre-development felt a little frustrating but I sort of understand why they chose to?

Quintessentially, you stays how you dies for better or worse - and I think they were trying to prove that nothing really changes for the ghosts, nothing ever truly moves on and that juxtaposes with Alison and Mike’s new chapter? Like, the ghosts have grown as a result of her influence but there’s only so much Alison could offer? She’s alive and changing and they sort-of realised that - which is character development in itself, I suppose.

They love her and want her to be happy - the show reached a sort-of cycle in that they wanted her to go because they hate her, wanted her to stay because they need her, then let her go because they love her.

Maybe that’s too generic or cheap for a show like ghosts - maybe the ending lacked substance or sense and, to an extent, I agree. But that’s what I think they were trying to do and in part it worked, in part it didn’t. But I’m glad nobody moved on because it embodies the ‘core’ of ghosts that they’re always there just the same in limbo and the world keeps on spinning.

Anyway, those are my thoughts :)

#bbc ghosts spoilers #bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts Christmas special spoilers #bbc ghosts christmas special

[stateswscarlet]

heyyyy! First of all I just wanted to say that you are so eloquent and informative in the way you speak about the law and I really appreciate your tough love approach. I’m reaching out because I feel utterly stuck. For the past two years (when I first discovered the law) I have been trying (and I use this word only for clarity purposes) to manifest my dream life and seemingly failed at every turn (no sp - in fact he feels farther away than ever, no financial freedom, anxiety and intrusive thoughts, etc) I feel like I am in a limbo world rn where I understand how the law works, what is required of me (changing self) but nothing seems to change. I feel scared that this is all in vain that at the end of the day I am wasting my time and energy. That I should just move on. But that feels like quitting and I HATE quitting. I just feel like I’m on the precipice of it all clicking but I don’t know how to get myself to that point.

I understand you get asks probably just like this one all the time. Thank you for all you do in this community. You’re truly the best 💋🩵🥹🤍

thank you so much for your kind words, im glad my approach has helped you! you say you seemingly fail at each turn... who is deciding that? the 3D? you looking AT the 3D and going "yup! this neutral situation means my manifestation didnt happen/isnt happening!" you say you know what is required of you and know you have to change self, but also said nothing seems to change which I assume you mean internally nothing has shifted (which is why your reality is the way it is). If you had truly changed self and remained true to that FOR YOURSELF and NOT to see it in the 3D, you wouldnt be sending this ask. How is it wasting your time and energy when: 1. manifestation is effortless, natural, and your very being 2. manifestation is instant the very second you assume you have something 3. you are doing this for YOUR OWN wellbeing and fulfillment 4. this is NOT a process, this is not a job you get rewarded for the more time and energy you put in you have to go to the root for why you feel so bound to the 3D. the only reason why you feel this way is because somewhere deep down you use the 3D for validation and when "nothing happens" you think youer doing something wrong or that all of this is in "vain" because you never actually grasped what fulfillment means to you. fulfillment isnt doing something in imagination and trying to feel good because you think it will reflect by doing so. it means choosing yourself despite everything else and not letting a mirror decide who YOU are. I cant tell you if you should move on or not, that isnt anyones decision but yours. read this thread for more info on moving on. i would suggest you reevaluate where your focus and intentions have been if you continue this journey because i guarantee youve been returning to the 3D more often than you think and basing your "movement" off a mirror when the mirror looks at YOU for validation. what is required FOR YOU to change self? ask yourself this question and be honest.

[the-raging-tempest]

🍍🍓🍩 for Lariel and 🍰🍫🍇 for Zrise?

Thank you Ash! Answered 🍫 here! Sorry this has taken me a bit! Fighting my mind goblins! I always be info dumping under the cut!

🍍: Where does your OC feel most comfortable?

This is such an interesting one. I feel like there isn't a particular place where Lariel is more comfortable than others. Though she is very uncomfortable and nervous in big groups and crowds. Easily overwhelmed by a large amounts of people. But on the flip side her 'comfort' with being alone has more to do with that it's what she's used to. It isn't very good for her I'd say. She even knows this. So I would say her most comfortable place whenever she is beside a trusted close friend.

🍓: Does your OC have any particular scents they like? Or hate?

I think Lariel tends to favor sweet and light scents with some slightly earthy or citrus notes. Jasmine, gardenia, lily, plumeria. She doesn't want it to be too strong, just a hint.

As for hates, I think she isn't that particular for the scent itself but more if it's TOO MUCH. She'll easily get a headache. Some nobles can wear a bit too much. In my mind when she finally meets Kraler it's a trait he has she hates. HAH

🍩: What's a crime your OC is most likely to commit? What's a crime they're most likely to get arrested for?

YAY! Love crimes! Honestly. I think Lariel has the vibe where she's much more likely to actually get away with something. She looks too sweet and perhaps has that air of nobility (though it's not her intention at all!) That keeps people from really pursuing arresting her. A little it the 'not worth the potential trouble' vibe. That's my hot take. They'd have to really have it out for her. Her brother though… this list would be much longer LMAO

As for crimes she'd commit: Aiding and abetting, disturbing the peace, forgery, identity theft, vandalism, loitering, trespassing, perjury, theft, evading arrest.

🍰: What's something your OC counts as unforgivable?

Such a good question for him. He has such different standards for himself vs others. Unforgivable for others to do to him… I think honestly he's got no real moral code, so usually he gets annoyed and angry with 'did you try to stop him from doing the thing he wanted to do'. But as for UNFORGIVABLE as in you've gone past the point of no return… Interesting… This is hard. He has no moral backbone… I think betrayal. If he ever felt truly betrayed by someone. When I say betrayed I mean he dropped his guard and on some level felt understood or liked by someone, and then they used that against him. Intentionally or not. What counts as a betrayal really depends on the person I think.

🍇: What sort of friend are they? Where are they in the group dynamic?

This is so funny as a question for him. He lives in an interesting limbo space that I will try to describe.

For him to consider you ‘his friend’ requires a lot. He's usually a very causal person. He hates shallow ‘pointless’ conversations. He can have them, but they mean nothing to him. He could talk to the same bartender everyday for a year and simply not give a fuck about them. If someone never goes past simple small talk he will barely remember them. It takes a lot for him to consider someone his ‘friend’. I imagine there are people who might have considered him their friend even though he will simply forget their existence once they are out of sight. He is not easily attached to others.

When he considers someone his friend he is very ‘ride or die’. But that’s because of how much it takes for him to get to that point. A 'friend' requires a level of trust and vulnerability he is not often capable of. He isn’t supposed to drop his guard or let people in, by the very nature of his work. He can’t let anyone be his ‘weakness’ so he feels he must keep people at arms length. So if he gets attached… well… then he’s a very passionate and intense kind of person.

The only time he was in a 'dynamic' he was kind of just in the group first as a joke. Like when a popular kid chooses a weirdo to keep as a pet. He was always the third wheel. I think he finds himself feeling out of place and awkward in most conversations where he's attached to someone and they are talking to someone else. If things just remained 'causal' he can more easily banter, flirtation, aggression, indifference. But if he actually gives a fuck about someone he feels very uncomfortable, because he feels like he has to hide from others, but craves that honesty and raw connection from whomever he's latched on to.

#oc: zrise #oc: lariel #ask #ask game #once again hope I make any sense

[citrus-cactus]

The concept of soulmates in Gargoyles is so interesting.

On the one hand, you have Demona and Macbeth, whose repeated meetings while dealing with the Hunter and eventual fate-sealing pact was something that they (for the most part) were manipulated into by outside, otherworldly, and unknowable forces (including one closed-loop time travel paradox… the idea that they, specifically, were necessary for the Archmage’s plans was one that cannot be attributed to any individual, including the Archmage himself). They are fated to be together, are quite literally bound together by fate: sharing each other’s pain, effectively immortal, because the only way for them to die is for one of them to kill the other. And thus they have been carrying on throughout the centuries, hating each other, thorns in each other’s sides, and yet one of the only constants the other has after 900+ years of living. One of them seeks to end their arrangement while the other is driven to survive at all costs—and thus they are destined to go on existing while remaining pawns in someone else’s game. They are neither able to escape the fate that they (by their personalities) or others (by their machinations) made for them, nor can they ever truly escape each other… no matter how much they (either secretly or openly) might want to.

And then you have the Coldtrio. Three sides of a relationship triangle comprised of two lovers and a schemer, who were (perhaps) close enough in proximity at the time of their death that their remnants lay mingled for a thousand years, and became the piles of rubble Demona and Xanatos scavenged in order to make their gargoyle version of Frankenstein. Their three souls were corralled into a single magic-and-science animated corpse made from their shattered body parts, three minds vying for control of the body they were forced to share, doomed to exist in a sort of cyberspace limbo and continue the relationships they had in life. Desdemona/Coldfire even used the word “soulmate” to describe what the three of them were to each other… even though one of her “mates” was her love and the other was someone who coveted her from afar and would do anything to “have” her, even against her wishes. Even after they became three separate entities again, both she and Othello/Coldstone felt they had an obligation to track down Iago/Coldsteel and attempt to put an end to his endless scheming.

It’s just fascinating that both of these examples touch on the concept of a soulmate, but then the show takes the extra step of mixing in these less-than-noble but very real emotions of petty jealousy, suspicion, and hate, adds a healthy dose of immortality and dramatic irony to the proceedings, and then spends a significant amount of time telling stories meant to explore the consequences of all that.

Having a “soulmate” in the Gargoyles universe, it would seem, is not something to wish for. At once tragic and horrific, the polar opposite of an ideal, akin to snakes eating each other’s tails. To have a soulmate is to lose a significant part of your autonomy, becoming a participant in an endless cycle of violence in which you are either the pursuer or pursued, tormentor or tormented, one ingredient in a cocktail of clashing personalities shaken together, poured into a glass, and then purposefully dropped on the floor to become shards in someone else’s feet. The part of you that yearns for release will be powerless to enact it because the other parts of you will always have a say, and the sum total of yourself becomes something that is both unwilling and unable to ever truly stop. And then it all comes to a head in "High Noon," when the Weird Sisters—manifestations of fate, vengeance, and grace— very blatantly involve themselves in both.

I just think that’s neat, is all.

#sorry releasing 1 MILLION POSTS from my drafts today #didn’t mean to write a mini-essay I’m just so fukcing fascinated #seriously though city of stone + high noon are five absolute banger episodes in a row I could watch them all on endless repeat ahahaha #gargoyles #disney’s gargoyles #the cactus speaks