#nothing ever happens in my life unless it’s all happening at once apparently

[mrspockify]

Got an internship confirmation yesterday and suddenly learned today that I missed an email from a job I applied to so I emailed back so apologetic and now I also have a call scheduled for an informal interview for THAT tomorrow on top of so many school assignments this week I am so 😵‍💫🤢🫨

#jesus christ #I’m shaking so hard rn there’s so much happening #nothing ever happens in my life unless it’s all happening at once apparently #I haven’t interviewed for a job in over two years btw this is gonna go so poorly

[yallemagne]

Once more have I seen the Count go out in his lizard fashion.

Ben Galpin truly captures the defeat Jonathan's feeling here. When you've seen something so incomprehensibly unsettling that the life is drained from you, and you can only think "okay, but what the fuck am I supposed to do with this? Oh? Is this normal? Is this normal? Can I ever financially recover from this?" It's a funny line for how bizarre it is, but it's hard to laugh when you hear Jonathan so dispirited.

Just, mwah. But, in contrast, Jonathan doesn't give up. He takes the opportunity that is presented by Dracula being away and tries all those damn doors again.

And then... he comes to the Room...

Dracula... warned him not to go into the locked rooms... but this room isn't locked. The door is stuck in such a way it would only open if Jonathan put his back into opening it. Now, one could say Dracula simply wasn't diligent enough in locking all the rooms that were off limits... or he anticipated, in some way, Jonathan finding this room by himself. He anticipated that Jonathan would put in the effort to open this one unlocked door. Either way, technically, Jonathan is breaking no rules, but technically, Dracula could still get away with this incompetence if someone were to try to hold him to it. Which, no one can or will.

Then, there is the latter half of Dracula's rules... he told Jonathan he may not sleep anywhere but his own room and the rooms they have both occupied. It, too, feels like a trap: reverse psychology. Jonathan is already weary to be where he knows Dracula goes, especially asleep. And then, Dracula, under the guise of caring for Jonathan's wellbeing, tells him he will only be safe in the rooms that he himself has occupied? Of course, it feels like leaving himself out as bait for the Count.

My lamp seemed to be of little effect in the brilliant moonlight, but I was glad to have it with me, for there was a dread loneliness in the place which chilled my heart and made my nerves tremble. Still, it was better than living alone in the rooms which I had come to hate from the presence of the Count, and after trying a little to school my nerves, I found a soft quietude come over me.

This is the first time that Jonathan is really harsh about the Count. He hates him. He hates his presence, and he hates how it lingers after his absence. But once he can put away his hate, he finds peace:

Here I am, sitting at a little oak table where in old times possibly some fair lady sat to pen, with much thought and many blushes, her ill-spelt love-letter, and writing in my diary in shorthand all that has happened since I closed it last.

He calms himself by imagining himself as a lady writing a love letter. Anxious - pen shaking and fumbling with some of the spellings - but not fearful. Not scared. Not in danger. He then remarks on the decor. Apparently, it is modern.

It is nineteenth century up-to-date with a vengeance. And yet, unless my senses deceive me, the old centuries had, and have, powers of their own which mere "modernity" cannot kill.

Even with the redecoration, Jonathan can sense the difference between what Dracula would call a new house vs an old one. This room has been done up to fit better with the current era, but nothing could strip away the history lying dormant underneath. Nothing can kill the spirits who linger. No place old enough to have a history is safe, not even London, which prides itself on its cutting-edge technology and its abandonment of the old and backward.

EDIT: okay so maybe I'm wrong about the decor being up-to-date. What if shhhh just enjoy the post.

#dracula #dracula daily #re: dracula #jonathan harker #may 15

[pluckyredhead]

Ngl do you think the relationship between Arthur and Garth has anything to do with how often at the time adopted children were and are considered not as “real” as biological children? Especially because the whole nuclear family BS. Not saying that’s all of it but I think it plays a role

Oh, 100%. I mean, look at this:

Arthur is willing to kill Garth to save Aquababy, because Aquababy is his son...with the implicit corollary that Garth isn't. The kid he has raised since, like, age 8, who has been by his side and living in his house all these years, is just...a sidekick.

(I think it's worth noting that Batman, who is not a good father, was once in a similar situation - Ra's al Ghul wanted him to pick whether Tim or Damian should die - and Bruce immediately chose himself. Arthur didn't even consider sacrificing himself for the boys. When you're a worse father than Batman, you know you've fucked up.)

I will say that in the early decades, comics only rarely explicitly referred to heroes and sidekicks as fathers and sons - you don't see it very often with Dick or Roy either. That's why all the sidekicks were wards and none of them were legally adopted. (Dick wasn't adopted until he was over 18; Roy never has been.) This was mostly to keep the heroes seeming young and fun instead of stodgy old dads.

But since the 70s on, Dick and Roy have been very frequently, explicitly stated to be Bruce and Ollie's sons, and the same is true for subsequent sidekicks: Jason was going to be adopted right away, Tim was going to be adopted whether he wanted it or not, Mia is clearly Ollie's daughter.

By contrast, I can only think of two times the Arthur/Garth dynamic has been described as paternal. The first is from Garth's debut:

HE IS SO TINY. Also I can't stop laughing at how Arthur's like "Fuck that noise." TERRIBLE.

I can't remember exactly when the other instance was, but I want to say it was Arthur calling Garth his son in like...the early 2000s? Maybe the Jurgens run? It would've had to have been before the 2003 run, because Garth was not putting up with Arthur's bullshit from 2003 on, and then the New 52 happened.

But yeah, they don't use those words for each other...basically ever. (Lorena and Jackson are also not Arthur's children. To be fair, Jackson has two very alive parents so Arthur being like "YOU ARE MY SON" would be weird and inappropriate.)

I think another factor, though, is that Arthur isn't just Garth's former mentor and guardian - he's his king. A lot of the time, Arthur has very cold, formal relationships with almost everyone in his life who isn't Mera (and sometimes even her) or a literal baby. There's a certain loyalty Garth owes Arthur - or at least both characters seem to feel Garth owes Arthur, whether or not you or I might agree with that - that has nothing at all to do with family.

We also don't really know the Atlantean norms around this sort of thing. Like, we can extrapolate things about Ollie and Roy's relationship that aren't written on the page, but do Atlanteans even have differentiations between ward, foster, and adoptee? Do they differentiate between adoptee and biological child?

And combining both of those ideas, Garth being considered Arthur's son might have political ramifications. Does that put him in the line of succession? The comics have been wildly inconsistent on this (Titans called him a prince this month and I yelled "EXPLAIN YOURSELF, TOM TAYLOR" at the page), but one could headcanon that Arthur has very deliberately avoided formally recognizing Garth as his son for political reasons. (Unless he has and that's why Garth is apparently a prince now, like he was in the Jurgens run but no other time in history. EXPLAIN BOTH OF YOURSELVES, TOM TAYLOR AND DAN JURGENS.)

Anyway yeah, I mostly think you're right that it's just anti-adoption prejudice, but there are some other factors that make this situation unique among the many, many mentor/sidekick relationships in comics.

#aqualad #garth #aquaman #arthur curry #meta

[ijustwantogohomehogwarts]

The Adventures of Lee and Gracie - BONES AND ALL : part 1

The Adventures of Lee and Gracie - BONES AND ALL : part 1

Warnings and such: mentions of bl00d, !death, death of family member, alcohol/drunkenness ,illusions to caññabilism...i think that's it for this part?

A/N: you can't tell me Timothée doesn't radiate this kind of chaotic energy 24/7! He was absolutely perfect for this movie! Thank you for coming to my TedTalk!

---------------------------------------------------------------------

My mother was what she called an “eater,” because I guess calling her a cannibal was wrong. There was a difference, apparently, of which the latter she was not. You could have fooled me. I’ve known for a while, probably my whole life, but to me, that was normal. Normal for her anyway. I had never met another “eater,” at least not that I knew of, but would I know if I had anyway? 

She never partook in the activity in the house, but more often than not she came home before she was ready to, covered in blood. Admittedly, it freaked me out to realize how quickly that stopped bothering me…but of course, not as much as discovering what she was doing a few times a month. What bothered me the most is that she came home, cleaned herself up, and carried on with life as if nothing happened. As I got older, I became more wary of her, something that I think she picked up on all too quickly. It drove a wedge in our once perfect relationship, but I wouldn’t consider it a loss.

The idea toyed in her head, for a while- she thought I was a “late bloomer” or that I just needed to “find the feeling,” but whatever it was that caused her to be this way, it must not have been passed along to me. If that’s how someone became an “eater.” It made me wonder where it all started, but then again, maybe I don’t want to know. All I do know is that she left when I was 18, and I hadn’t seen or heard from her since. My dad was long gone and I had no siblings. Maybe my dad knew, and maybe I wasn’t even supposed to happen…oh well, no sense in dreading about it now. I had no complaints. No regrets.

I knew the signs of an eater, or at least the ones that made my mother stand out in a crowd, but I still wasn’t sure if I would be able to pick one out of a line up unless they had blood all over their face. I resolved to just be by myself, to always watch my back and never put a lot of trust in anyone. It was all easy, really. I wasn’t allowed to have friends as a child, understandably so, and because of that I was fine to be by myself. I didn’t know any different.

As my 20th birthday approached, the body of a woman surfaced near the lake. It was a lot to take in, in a small town, but I knew. I knew that it was my mother, and I knew that it wasn’t an animal who had found her body before some local fishermen. There was another eater, somewhere, and suddenly I didn’t feel safe. What if they came after me? I am half my mother, eater or not. I packed a bag and left with a full tank of gas and all the money I had been saving for almost 6 years. I didn’t dare look back. 

That was almost a year ago now. My 21st birthday was at the end of the summer and I had already driven across the country and back once. I was stuck somewhere between not wanting to settle down somewhere, and being too afraid to. I had no family elsewhere, at least not that I knew of, so there wasn’t anything grounding me to one specific spot. The life of a nomad was starting to grow on me! I found myself in Indiana, at the dumpiest ‘grocery store’ I had ever been in, which was saying a lot because I’ve seen some pretty deplorable places on my travels. 

“What kind of store runs out of lunchables?!”

There was a very intoxicated man wandering the store, drinking a 6 pack of cheap beer that I can only assume he hadn’t paid for. The store attendants didn’t even bat an eyelash at him, apparently this was a regular thing. I was at the end of the aisle he had just strolled down, looking at the bare bone essentials that were strewed about the shelves.

“Hey, I’m talking to you, you dumb bitch-”

A woman with a small child had asked to get by him on her way to the checkout lines. I wasn’t the only one watching him- a boy, about my age, had been following him around the store for a while now. I couldn’t tell if they were together or not, but the younger one seemed highly irritated with the antics.

“Hey!” He called, standing behind me. “You’re out of control, buddy.” Okay, so maybe they aren’t together. 

“You with the store or something?”

“No, I’m not with the store. But I’m going to escort you out of it.”

“Oh you are?” 

“Watch this,” the younger boy whispered as he stepped around me. 

He had a shit eating grin plastered to his face, as if he was waiting for this moment. He turned to the drunk man, smiled at him and without an ounce of hesitation, headbutted him. Hard. I could hear it break his nose. Blood began to seep down his face before he realized what had happened. The drunk threw an otherwise poorly calculated swing, but missed by a mile or more.

“Outside, you fucker!”

“You want to go outside? We can go outside! Let’s go outside!”

“Who the fuck do you think you are, you little asshole!”

“Is this how you spend your Saturdays? Harassing innocent people after you spend the morning jerking off…”

Their voices trailed off as the door closed behind them. I watched them chase each other around the parking lot for a moment before stepping out of view and behind the store. That was the most excitement I had seen in a long time! 

I made my purchases and used the microwave behind the counter to makeshift something for dinner. What I wouldn’t give for a real kitchen! It was nearly dark when I finally left, and there was no sign of the two men from earlier. I could only hope they sorted out their differences and everyone left without incident. 

I was crossing the parking lot to my truck when I noticed something someone, crawling out the window frame of an abandoned building a few yards away. It was the younger guy from earlier. His shirt was torn and he looked at me before doubling over. I couldn’t tell what he was doing, but could hear the distinct crinkle of a plastic water bottle and as he approached, I could see it- blood! A lot of fucking blood. I knew instantly what he was; his face and chest was smeared the same way I had seen my mother’s many times before. Despite his best efforts to apparently clean himself, the evidence was everywhere. I didn’t know rather to run or scream or-

“He’s back there, if you want to..” He nodded back towards the building, walking past me without batting an eyelash in my direction. Maybe they only “ate” once? Do they get full? They have to, right?

“No! No I don’t- I’m not a…No!” He stopped and looked me up and down. 

“Could have fooled me. You smell like one.”

“One what?” I hesitated, trying to keep the distance between us. 

“You tell me. You seem to know.”

“I’m not.”

“So you’ve said.”

“What do you mean ‘I smell like one?’”

“An eater. Eaters can smell other eaters. Usually.”

“Well, you’re wrong. I’m not a…a eater.” 

“Okay. Well, sorry.” He smiled, and I could see his blood stained teeth. Somehow, even in this moment, I wasn’t phased. “I’m gonna just…I’m gonna go now.” 

There was something about him…something that I couldn’t put a finger on, or take my eyes off of. He seemed…different? I only had my mother to compare him to, but there was still something. I watched him circle the parking lot, staring at the keys in his hand. Whatever he was trying to find must not have belonged to him. Wait was he-

“You can’t just steal his truck!” I laughed nervously, watching him climb in and start digging around. 

“What good is it to him now?” He turned the key over and tried to start it, groaning. “There’s no gas in it anyway.” 

“I’m sorry I don’t-”

“Will you drive me somewhere?”

“No! I don’t even know you!”

He jumped out of the truck, a piece of paper and a few dollars in his hand. He smiled, wiping his spare hand on his pant leg before extending it to me.

“Sorry, I’m Lee.”

“Lee?”

“Lee. No last name.” I looked at him for a minute, his smile never fading.

“Grace. Or Gracie.” 

“First and last?” He chuckled and whatever it was about him made me smile, even if I didn’t want to. ‘Don’t trust people’ I reminded myself.

“Look,” he continued. “You could have convinced me you were an eater, like I said, you smell like one. And if you’re really not, hey that's cool too! But eaters don’t eat eaters, so I’ll treat you like one if you’ll just drive me…” he looked at the paper and spun around in a small circle before pointing in some opposite direction. “If you’ll drive me like 15 minutes that way? Please?”

I tried to weigh my options, the risks I was taking by giving in, but there it was again, that thing that was different about him. Whatever it is, it was telling me to just give him the ride. I could leave him there and never have to see him again if the next 15 minutes gave me any inclination that Lee couldn’t be trusted. 

“Okay,” I sighed, pointing him towards my own truck a few spots over. “But if you try to-”

“Cross my heart I won't!”

We hopped in and he gave me directions. He was quiet, domestic really…not something I would have expected from one of them. He just sat there, like nothing had happened. I couldn’t help but eye him the whole way, and he definitely knew, but didn’t say anything. It was almost a comforting silence, something I don’t recall ever experiencing in my life before now. 

Eventually, we made it. The house was dilapidated, not cared for in the slightest- it smelled of weed and alcohol from the driveway. A bachelor pad if I had ever seen one before. The lights were off, though I may have died of shock if anyone else was living there. 

“Thank you,” Lee smiled, hopping out of the car and coming over to my side. “Unless, I mean, do you want to come in?” He said it so calmly, like it was his own house! 

“I umm…” 

“I promised I wouldn’t bite, remember!”

That feeling returned, consuming my body. It’s fine, just go with him. Something inside me was screaming, I didn’t know if it was my brain, my heart, or my stomach, but none of them were arguing with whichever one was screaming. Maybe this is how I die! Only one way to find out…

I sighed, hopping out of the truck and following him into the house. The inside was somehow worse than the outside- I didn’t even think that was possible. Lee, however, seemed to be in love! He instantly started digging though the man’s collection of music, staring wildly at the raunchy posters on the wall. 

Lee let out an excited noise when he pulled a record from the crate, throwing it on the player. The music blared horribly loud, causing both of us to jump out of our skins.

“Fuck!” He yelled, turning it down quickly. The smile soon returned to his face and he began jumping around the room, singing and dancing erratically.

It was almost euphoric to watch. So I did- I just watched him. I watched him for a few minutes, my eyes following him as he jumped off the couch, landing in front of a very dirty mirror. He leaned in close, singing to his reflection until he caught sight of the state he was in. There was still blood smeared down his chin and throat, the rest was hidden behind his t-shirt. The smile dropped from his face and in its place…embarrassment?

“I’m gonna go take a shower.” I nodded and watched as he disappeared down the hallway. 

Last chance to leave.

No, I think I’m going to stay. 

Lee emerged a while later and asked if I wanted a turn in the bathroom. Again, this seemed so normal to him- he acted like this was his house. He must do this every time he…eats. A real shower sounded too inviting, no matter how gross the bathroom may be. 

With the endless supply of hot water, I’m not sure how long I was in there. A small part of me almost expected the boy to be gone when I was finished, but he wasn’t. I followed the sound of the television and found him sitting in front of it, laughing along to whatever way playing, a cigarette in hand. Domestic. 

I cleared my throat, not knowing what else to do. 

“Oh, hey!” He jumped up. “Do you want to watch something? I think there’s a few more channels on here…”

“No, that's okay. I might actually go to bed…if you don’t mind?”

“Not at all! Take the bed, I’ll sleep out here.” He pointed towards the back of the house. “It's just back there…on the left.”

I felt like I was supposed to say something, to thank him, maybe? But whatever it was, I couldn’t find it. I just looked at him, probably for too long. He began to rock back and forth on the balls of his heels, looking around the room and smiling awkwardly everytime his eyes met mine. 

“Goodnight, Lee.” I finally mumbled, stifling a yawn.

“Night, Gracie!” I heard him plop back down on the floor as I headed towards the bedroom.

Weirdest. Day. Ever.

******

I hardly slept last night. Part of me was scared I’d wake up to Lee standing over me, or that the guy whose house we were in was going to come back, or that a neighbor called the cops after seeing us come in or-

*knock* *knock* 

“Gracie, you awake?”

I sat up boltright. “Yeah, it’s open.”

No, you idiot! That’s not what he asked!

Lee opened the door awkwardly and stuck an arm through the crack, offering me a cup of coffee. Domestic!

“I’m not sure how you take it, but your only option is black or Irish, but you know, that’s still black.” I chuckled, opening the door further and taking the cup from him. His head was turned, not daring to look in the room. 

“Thank you.” 

“Mhmm.” 

There was an awkward silence. Lee still hadn't turned around. 

“Can I ask you something?” I finally found the courage to speak.

“Shoot.”

“This is normal for you, isn’t it?” 

“Was that the question, or a statement?”

I groaned, walking back over to the bed. Lee hesitantly peered around the corner, not daring to enter the room any further. 

“Sorry,” He chuckled nervously, taking a sip of coffee. “But yeah, I guess this is normal? Are you referring to the whole,” He made an exaggerated chewing motion, teeth clicking together audibly. “Thing or?”

“That. Yes. But I assumed that was normal for you. It was normal for my mother, anyway. But I was referring to the whole ‘making yourself at home’ type of thing.”

“Your mother?!” I just looked at him, waiting for an answer to the second part of the question- the actual question. “Umm. I mean, everyone’s got their own rules, I guess. I don’t see any harm in staying a night or two. It’s not like he’s going to need it.” 

We sat silently, sipping shitty coffee and stealing glances at each other. The comfortable silence settling over us once again.

“If you’re not from around here, where are you from? And where are you going?”

“Kentucky,” he smiled, looking like he was reminiscing. “Got family there, sort of...but I’m not sure where I’m going…I don’t ever really know. I just…go. What about you?”

“I’m from New York-”

“Holy shit!”

“Yeah. But there’s nothing left there for me so I’m making my way back across the country.” I shrugged, the idea didn’t seem so crazy to me as it once did. 

“I’m sorry, back?!”

“I’ve been on the road for almost a year.” 

“That sounds awesome! You’ll have to tell me about it…sometime.” The smile on his face faded slightly as he stared at the contents of the mug in his hand.

Is this where we were supposed to part ways? It didn’t feel right to get back in the truck and leave him, but taking him with me? That sounded just as weird. I’ve never been conflicted over the…wellbeing? Of another person? Is that what this was called? 

Hypothetically, I thought to myself. What would be the harm in asking him to come along? What was stopping me from dumping him on the side of the road somewhere if he pissed me off or tried to bite or whatever else could possibly happen. He wasn’t tied to anywhere either, not really anyway. He had been doing things his way for who knows how long, clearly he could take care of himself. He seemed to be doing a better job at it than me, actually. And the odds of ever running into him again? There was something about him that wasn’t…scary. Maybe it was the pink hair! 

“I’ll tell you.” I smiled, finishing the coffee. “You drive. I’ll talk.” 

“What?”

“Unless you have other plans-”

“No!” Lee said, rather quickly. “Are, are you offering to take me with you?” He sounded less sure of himself as the sentence dragged on.

“IF,” I barked, standing up and sticking a pinky in his face. “You keep your promise!”

“Cross my heart.” He smiled, drawing an ‘X’ over his chest before hooking his pinky with mine. 

#bones and all #luca guadagnino #fanfiction #bones and all fanfiction #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet as lee #reader #lee #lee bones and all #lee and maren #gracie #the adventures of lee and gracie #cannibal aesthetic #i have no idea what cannibal aesthetic is #angst #fluff #work in progress #part 1 #mediocre writing at best #timothee chalamet as regulus black #regulus black #regulus black deserved better

[markantonys]

I haven’t read the books but I do know what they have done with Moiraine and Siuan’s relationship is way more than it was in the books. On the one hand they developed it fully, have given them a very clear and deep 20 year relationship. And on the other hand, they also destroyed it fully by the end of season 2. Where do you think they are taking this? Will they stick to the books and give them their other relationships or will they weave them back together. It’s anyone’s guess but am interested to hear what yours is. I like the theory that their fallout was preplanned and part of the reason the episode was called daes daemar. But me liking something does not equal logic and fact to be sure

imo there's 0 chance that either of them will have their book relationships, that's just not happening and i find it a little silly when people (not you! but i've seen others doing it) immediately panic and think the show broke them up for that purpose haha of course i can understand why people are worried and upset! but it feels so SO unlikely that either character would ever have a romance with anyone but each other in the show, so that is one worry i think it's pretty safe to set aside altogether. (for time constraint reasons if nothing else; giving moiraine and/or siuan a brand-new love interest and having to develop that relationship would be far from the best use of the show's limited time. plus, i remember rafe outright called moiraine a lesbian in an interview once, so i highly doubt he's got plans for her, at least, to have a male love interest at any point.)

this got a little long so putting a read more!

personally i don't buy the preplanned fallout theory because i think the waygate scene doesn't work with it. if their goal was to make rand trust moiraine, then they accomplished that with their scene in the throne room; there was no need for siuan to chase them down to the waygate, she could've just let them leave if she was in on moiraine's plan here. the only time this theory felt plausible to me is when someone suggested they were in on it together UP UNTIL siuan saw moiraine channeling after moiraine had told her she was stilled, and so everything before that point was an act but everything after was genuine. but even then, it's tricky to explain why siuan would have even chased them to the waygate in the first place - unless she just wanted to make sure they got away successfully and/or wanted leane & co to think she made an effort to stop them, but then catching moiraine in an apparent lie made her change her mind and actually try to stop them? but yeah, imo there's no way the waygate scene was not genuine, but it's possible (but still unlikely; again imo) that the scenes before it were part of a scheme.

and to me, that's okay! to me, as a queer person myself (but ofc i'm just speaking for myself, not for All Queer People), giving queer characters and queer relationships the same narrative weight as het ones also means letting them be flawed and have conflict, rather than keeping them up on a pedestal of perfection and ultimately relegating them to the background of the story because you won't let them face obstacles or develop. i understand why others don't feel that way and were upset by the way things went down in 2x07, but that's just my personal feeling and that's why i personally wasn't bothered to see siuan and moiraine have major conflict here (especially since, unlike the Queer Traumaporn in so much media, this conflict had nothing to do with them being queer - it just felt like a natural conflict that arose from the two characters' specific personalities and life circumstances, as opposed to feeling like they were being punished by their world or by the narrative for being queer, you know?)

duty is a huge theme of WOT and here we saw how moiraine and siuan are both so committed to duty above absolutely everything else. they are both willing to sacrifice anything for what they each see as the greater good, and here, when they realize they have different ideas* about what best serves the greater good, they sacrifice even their relationship with each other because they feel they have no other choice, because they've spent 20 years training themselves to think that the greater good is more important than their personal happiness. to me it's so beautifully tragic! and to me it felt like the best kind of tragedy, one that's rooted in the specific characterization of the individuals involved and on all the previous choices they've made that built up to make the moment of tragedy an inevitable outcome.

*and both are reasonable and in-character ideas that were set up last season. we saw how in their discussion of "can the prophecies be trusted?" in 1x06 that moiraine is skeptical of tower tradition/protocol because she's been out in the world and largely cut off from the tower for 20 years, whereas siuan tends to trust tower tradition/protocol because she's been in the tower leading it for 20 years. and now in s2, from moiraine's perspective they need to break with tower protocol because the tower is too fractured and they have too many enemies within it, but from siuan's perspective they need to return to tower protocol because they tried going rogue and doing so freed the forsaken and was a huge mistake.

all this being said, i do not by any means think the relationship is 100% dead and over for good. like you say, the show put in work to make their relationship much deeper than it was in the books, and i don't think that was for nothing! i think that siuan in particular has been set up for a really meaty character development arc and that this is only the very beginning for her, and that by the end of the show we'll see the two of them reconcile and come back together. maybe i'm totally wrong and maybe it'll turn out that i shouldn't have given the benefit of the doubt, but as of now i don't feel there's reason to worry the show has completely trashed their relationship for good. but season 3 will be a make-or-break season, so by the end of that, depending on how certain book events play out, we should have a much clearer idea of their long-term plans for siuan and siuaraine!

#again not trying to invalidate anyone's differing feelings on this topic! just sharing my own #anonymous #answered #wot show spoilers #wot book spoilers #(mildly so)

[jewreallythinkthat]

Holy fuck the victim mindset Jews have is insane. People are not protesting shit because they hate Jews or Judaism. It has fucking nothing to do with religion. People are actually just fucking seeing things for the first time ever, thanks to technology. They are seeing information that is not controlled by a news source but by the people living and experiencing what’s happening everyday.

People are dumb and don’t care about stuff unless they are seeing it every day which is why Palestinians and so many others are protesting and posting. If they stop people will stop caring and pretend everything’s normal. The reason people don’t talk about other atrocities is because they genuinely don’t know or it just isn’t effecting them because they live far. It has zero to do with Judaism.

I don't know what to tell you mate but when you open with accusing an entire group of playing the victim, you're already deep in the rabbit hole of Jew hate. If you'd accused me, singular, then I'd have let it slide (I think you're wrong because you have no idea of my life and experience but whatever), but instead you decided to attack the entirety of the Jewish population. That's antisemitism...

I can't control what people see but I am highly aware of the quantity of reporting that goes on because it's literally my job to be and people lost interest well before news etc stopped stalking about Ukraine and the Uyghurs in China.

Shockingly, I know, I have no issue with people protesting war. My issue is the double standard to which Israel is held compared to every other country.

Re. the religion comment, once again I am reminding you that Judaism is an ethnoreligion (although I don't like that term myself) and Jews are an ethnic group who have religious practices which are no known as Judaism.

Also, I don't know if it's something you came across because I don't know you and your history, but people have been libelling Israel for far longer than the current conflict. People send hate and death threats to Jews and Israelis all the time, the current conflict has apparently just given permission to more people to justify that sort of behaviour to themselves. Even when Israel isn't in the news, people are obsessed with it. I'm not responsible for what you care about or take notice of, but I for once am very aware of when people make sweeping generalisations that include the slaughter of my own family.

#antisemitism #ask answered

[quincy-clover]

Allow us to introduce ourselves

Half a year active, over a hundred followers, the majority of which are veteran tumblers from that one 60k note explosion, and we still haven't properly introduced ourselves. Time to fix that.

We are Clover, an endogenic plural system. That means we are multiple people sharing one brain and body, and we aren't plural because of trauma. We do not have DID.

I am Quincy, the headmate who fronts the most. Quincy is not my real name, but it could've been, and it's an alias I've been using for a few years.

There are a lot of people on here who say that it's impossible for a plural system to form without trauma, but as you may have seen from our syscourse (system discourse (expect a lot of sys- compounds)) reblogs, they rarely cite any credible sources, and that's because they're wrong. I am not a LARPer and I do not claim to have DID. This really is every hour of my life, online and offline. If you have any more questions about plurality, feel free to send me an ask.

Though if we're talking about origins, "not from trauma" is overly vague for my taste. If we're really talking about how the system formed, I prefer "dreamgenic", because everyone originated from some combination of nightdreams and immersive daydreams which I had varying levels of control over.

The second most active headmate, Penelope, has her own blog @penelope-clover. She posts more infrequently, when she's able to front/cofront/proxy, and is currently mostly focused on syscourse, with occasional slices of life. She's my older syster.

Headcount is currently in the upper teens. Some more may be mentioned occasionally but I'd rather not have a list of private details about everyone easily accessible here for anyone to see. For the most part, all you'll see every once in a while is some colored text indicating a distinct voice.

Anyway, enough plural stuff! Now for typical bio stuff!

Fleed Reddit to come here and wow Tumblr is way better. Always happy to commune with fellow Rexxitors!

For obsession I circle between Chess, Minecraft, Geometry Dash, Warrior Cats, and Undertale. Fandoms I am on the edge of getting sucked into include The Amazing Digital Circus and Death Note. I also plan to watch Avatar: The Last Airbender at some point. Ever since our syscovery, I've consumed next to no fiction for fear of more headmates.

I have a few projects in the works but I've promised myself that I won't post them publicly until I've actually made substantial progress!

No DNI! Maybe it's just because I'm not jaded by years of wasted time with unproductive trolls, but I think assuming someone is in bad faith just because they disagree with you about something heated is bad actually, partly because I've seen what happens and how long progress takes when left-of-center people generally refuse to interact with, for example, transphobes. Relatedly, I will only block you if I think you're a bot or if you really, really fuck up.

Do not be surprised if I casually shit on something you believe in without warning.

I have an ever-growing queue set to post five times per day, and I try not to post too much more than that. I also try to keep my dash at less than 100 posts per day, which is apparently uncommon here.

Reblog reblog reblog! Not just my posts, but everyone (unless you have a good reason not to, like with this intro post). Reblogs are what keep Tumblr alive! Likes do next to nothing.

That's all for now! If you have any more questions, send me an ask and I might add it to this post!

#intro post #bio post #chess #minecraft #geometry dash #warrior cats #undertale #death note #plurality #dreamgenic #endogenic #pro endo #endo safe #pluralgang

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Pomegranate Ink: VI

Series Synopsis: Unable to heal but willing to fight, with a fiancé in Kyoto and a last name that looms over everything you do, you accept an offer to study at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech. What you did not know was that your salvation and your ruination alike would soon join you at the school, neatly wrapped in the form of a boy followed by death.

Chapter Synopsis: Training with Yuta yields unpleasant consequences when a conversation with Toge makes you realize the truth about your feelings for the special grade sorcerer.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yuta Okkotsu × Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.6k

Content Warnings: angst, misogyny, naoya zenin, forbidden relationships, canon-typical violence, character death, original characters included

A/N: live laugh love TOGE INUMAKI

“For what it’s worth, I agree with Tullia,” Maki said once you had returned to the school. She seemed quite pleased with herself, which was probably compounded by the fact that Yuta apparently had bruises running up and down his arms and legs. It was not that Maki delighted in pain but rather that she felt a training session was not effective unless at least one participant had been pushed to their absolute limits.

“Really?” you said.

“You know how I feel about clan politics,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

“That’s true,” you said.

“I’m going to be the head of the Zenin clan one day, even if they won’t have me. I’ll kill anyone that gets in my way; maybe you should do the same,” she said.

“It’d be an easy victory. My family’s mostly comprised of healers — I’m the only one that can fight, so if it came down to it, I’d win against all of them relatively quickly,” you said.

“There’s no pleasure in that,” Maki said.

“Furthermore, what good would it do? Nothing would change just because I’m the head of the L/N clan. The higher ups would still be the higher ups. The fundamental structures of society would not change. My family’s power only comes from our abilities to heal; without that, do you think that the higher ups would entertain an entire bloodline that, until me, has done absolutely nothing in the aid of exorcising curses?” you said.

“We can do it together!” she said.

“You’ll have to elaborate,” you said.

“I take over the Zenin clan and you take over the L/N clan. With your support, the Zenins will be less likely to rebel against me, and I’ll have enough power to protect you from the higher ups. I myself will be a higher up, actually, and I’ll never ever let anything happen to you,” she said.

“It’s a nice idea,” you said with a smile, leaning forwards to hug her tightly, resting your chin on her shoulder, “But I don’t have the constitution for it. I don’t need to be the head of my clan; that can be Noritoshi’s job. The best I can give you is that I won’t let the Kamos stop you — though I myself won’t be a higher up, my future husband will be. And I’ll never ever let anything happen to you, either.”

“I’ll become the head of the Zenin clan before your wedding,” she promised you, “I will. And then I’ll marry you — your parents can hardly complain about that, right? I’ll be quite a catch. If we’re married, only on paper of course, then you can be free to do whatever you want and be whoever you want to be.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” you said.

“That’s a good question that I cannot really answer. The best I can offer you is that you were probably a saint in your past life,” she said.

“Probably,” you agreed, “Thank you, Maki, but you don’t have to marry me. I’ll find a way to be myself even with the constraints of the life I’ve been given. I really shouldn’t complain; my privilege is so great that any whining just feels gauche.”

“Privilege doesn’t mean you can’t have problems, but if you insist on doing everything yourself, then…that’s fine. I can understand it, at least. Still, let me know if you need help or something. And the offer stands; I’ll marry you in an instant if you ask,” she said.

“Maybe in another universe, I’ll be the best healer and you’ll be the strongest sorcerer and we’ll run jujutsu society together,” you said.

“Why can’t it be this one?” she argued. You showed her your hands.

“At least one of us can get there,” you said. “I know you can.”

“Y/N, I —” Whatever she had been about to say was interrupted by the door creaking open.

“I heard you were back,” Yuta said, peeking into the room with a slight blush on his cheeks. If he had ever been as bruised as Maki had described, he was not anymore. In fact, he looked perfectly healthy, if not a little nervous.

Maki stiffened and leaned away from you, her face hardening as she crossed her arms and trained her gaze on the floor. You shot her a worried glance before smiling at Yuta.

“I am. Did you need something?” you said.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” he said.

“Perfectly alright. We hit some bumps in the road, but we made it through unscathed, and Gojo’s bakery is safe, which means Toge and Panda might actually be able to do productive things again,” you said.

“They’re almost finished with the cake they started earlier. It looks elaborate,” Yuta said.

“I’m sure it’ll be delicious,” you said politely, “Was there something else?”

“Uh, when you’re finished, could you come with me? I need help,” he said.

You furrowed your brow in confusion but shrugged, though you had no idea what he’d need your help specifically for. “Sure. Give me a second.”

“No need,” Maki said.

“But you were just about to say something,” you protested. She hopped off of the desk she had been perched on with an elegant roll of her eyes.

“Nothing important. See you at dinner,” she said, leaving the two of you behind without another word. You watched her go for a second, wondering what had gotten into her before deciding it wasn’t your problem.

“Alright, I guess I’m yours for the rest of the afternoon. How can I help you?” you said. He looked around furtively before beckoning for you to follow him, sneaking through the hallways like a criminal. You trailed after, though you were certain to leave a little bit of distance between you lest a staff member think you were up to something illicit with him.

You made your way into the weapons shed, where he yanked on a string to turn the lights on. You had never been inside of the building, and you admired the sharp steel swords and polished wooden staffs with interest. Though they would never do you much good, not precise enough for your cursed technique to warrant learning to use them, that did not stop you from imagining what it’d feel like to heft one of them in your hands.

“Training with Maki is great, and I learn a lot whenever we spar,” he began, taking down a wooden practice sword and showing it to you, “But it’s not enough.”

“Are you asking me to teach you? I don’t know anything about swords, so you’ve come to the wrong person,” you said.

“I need you to attack me with your needles. Maki doesn’t have anything in the way of long-range attacks, and I have to be able to defend against those, too. Maybe they’re not that common from curses, but I want to be prepared for everything. If I am to exorcise Rika, then I can’t be lacking skill in any area,” he said.

“Attack you? But if I hit you in the wrong spot, I could kill you,” you said worriedly.

“I trust you enough to know that you won’t,” he said.

“I’m not half as skilled as you believe me to be,” you murmured, trying your best to avoid his beseeching expression. But he did not let you, reaching out to place his hand on your shoulder.

“You’re more skilled, probably. You’re really strong, Y/N. Why else would Gojo entrust you with a mission like retrieving me, an unknown special grade sorcerer?” he said.

“Well…” you winced, remembering that Gojo had brought you along to ‘seduce’ Yuta into compliance. Luckily, it hadn’t been necessary, but it was more reflective of your looks than it was of your abilities.

“And even besides that, you rescued Tullia, and you saved Gojo’s bakery. A weak sorcerer who can’t even control their own weapons couldn’t do any of that. So I’m confident in asking you to toss needles at me! Plus, the whole objective is that I don’t get hit by them, right? So who’s to say you’ll even get the chance to hurt me?” he said. Hesitantly, you placed your hand atop his, which still rested on your shoulder. His skin was rough, already painted with calluses that spoke of more practice than he had let on.

“Fine,” you said.

“Fine?” he said excitedly, entire face lighting up. His enthusiasm was contagious, spreading until you felt it, too.

“Fine,” you affirmed, “In exchange, though, I want you to help me learn to use a sword. Not that it’ll ever be my weapon of choice, but it’s always good to know things.”

“I definitely can, but why aren’t you asking Maki? She’s a lot better with these things,” he said. You winked at him, ducking out of the weapons shed and turning the light off, plunging it into darkness.

“I’m not as tough as you are. I think you’re a little less likely to leave me sore and bruised for days, so I believe you might be the better choice for now,” you said.

“O-okay!” he said, running after you.

“Just the normal training field should be alright, yeah? It’s not like we’re doing anything wrong by practicing,” you said.

“It should be fine. Do you have non-cursed needles?” he said.

“Yes, I have some that I haven’t cursed yet. We can use those,” you said, putting down your cursed weapons next to the bottle of water that Yuta had brought. You did not need to use those for a sparring match, and you didn’t want to run the risk of hurting him irreversibly by accidentally using the wrong ones.

“Ready?” he said once you were across from him.

“Are you going to try and attack back, or just defend?” you said. He bit his lip in thought.

“Which would you prefer?” he said.

“It would make it more realistic if you were attacking back, and I’ve been practicing dodging with Maki for a while, so it’d be nice to see how it works against another opponent,” you said.

“That’s settled, then,” he said. “Do you want to count down?”

“Why not? Three,” you began, watching as he lifted his sword in preparation and taking out a few of your own needles for the same reason, “Two, one!”

Predictably, he charged towards you in an attempt to close the gap. But you were ready for it and took off yourself, twisting and tossing needles towards him before continuing to run, not wasting time with checking whether or not you had hit your target. You doubted you had, anyways; this was just a preliminary exercise to the fight, both of you feeling out each other’s skills.

Despite his pretty, deer-like appearance, you knew that Yuta was far stronger than you. Furthermore, due to his nearly boundless reserves of cursed energy, his stamina was almost unmatchable. If this turned into a battle of attrition, you’d lose, which meant you had to get him out before you were too exhausted to fight back.

The whistling sound of wood cutting through the air was the only warning you got that he had caught up to you. Instinctively, you launched into a handspring, ducking out of the way of his swing without breaking your momentum. As soon as you were back to your feet, you threw a set of needles at him, which he blocked with his sword. They clattered to the ground, and you cursed.

“You’re sure you’ve not been practicing with someone else?” you said breathlessly.

“I’ve had Panda throw random things at me, but that’s not the same as a trained specialist,” he said, slicing the sword towards you. You bent backwards, resting your hands on the ground for support and staying very still as the strike went over you, barely missing the clothes of your uniform.

“Looks like it worked well enough,” you said, standing up before he could react and taking out a single needle, aiming at his solar plexus and throwing. He narrowly avoided it, stepping to the side and using the hilt of his sword to block it from hitting his ribcage.

“Nah,” he panted, “You’re much harder to beat. I would’ve won against Panda by now.”

“You flatter me,” you said, throwing more needles at him in increased desperation. Though you were both tiring, the fight was obviously affecting you more. You were used to decisive first blows and surprise attacks, whereas Yuta trained for this sort of scenario exactly.

Your exhaustion lent sloppiness to your throws, which meant you were rapidly being pushed into a corner of sorts. Yuta continued to advance while you did everything you could to not get hit, employing every gymnastic trick and sudden change in direction you could think of. You did not even bother with attacking anymore, purely on the defensive even as Yuta got closer.

He barrelled into you, knocking you to the ground before you were even aware of it. You fell on your back, the wind knocked out of you as you gazed up at him. He straddled you with his sword pressed to your throat, ensuring you could not get free. Strangely, a different sort of warmth spread through you, and it was not tiredness that caused your breath to quicken.

“I win,” he said victoriously. Your eyes widened, and then you grinned. The single needle you had been preparing to throw was still in your hand, and though it was only one, it was enough. He frowned at your amusement.

“No,” you said, and in one swift movement, you reached up and stuck the needle into the back of his neck, “I win.”

He collapsed atop you, pinning you to the ground with his weight. You groaned, having not considered the ramifications of your actions.

“Sorry,” he said, “I can’t — I can’t move.”

“That’s my fault,” you said, maneuvering your arm to pull the needle out, “It’ll take a minute to wear off. I didn’t hit you in a lethal spot, but it was close enough to one that it temporarily paralyzed you.”

“You’re sure it won’t last?” he said in a panic. You chuckled.

“I promise it won’t, or else I wouldn’t have done it. Actually, I’m kind of regretting it either way. You’re not exactly light, and I forgot that if you collapsed it would be right on me,” you said.

“Sorry,” he said again.

“Like I said, it's my fault,” you said. “Certainly not your mistake to apologize for. If anyone should be sorry, it’s me.”

“You were just trying to win the fight. You shouldn’t be sorry, either,” he said.

“Since we’re stuck here, let’s go over why I won in the end, even though clearly you should have,” you said.

“I got too confident,” he said.

“Right,” you agreed, “You never, ever think you’ve won until your opponent’s dead or surrendered — and they have to be the one that has surrendered. You can’t decide for them. Things can play dead or seem incapacitated when they still have another card up their sleeve. Or, like just now, in trying to finish them off, you might accidentally present them with an opening.”

“That’s true. I’ll be careful of that from now on,” he said.

“Good. What else did you learn from the fight?” you said.

“Uh, I’m not sure?” he said.

“I’ll tell you what I learned — your stamina is inhuman. If it comes down to it, I have full faith that you will outlast nearly any enemy,” you said.

“Do you really think so?” he said.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t. You also need to work on your agility. You’re kind of stiff — almost static, in a way. Your forms are easy to anticipate. Try to be a little more creative, or else a stronger opponent than I will take advantage of your predictability,” you said.

“So what you’re saying is…more practice?” he said.

“That certainly won’t hurt, of course, but what you really need is to use your head more,” you said, knocking lightly on the back of his skull for emphasis. “Hear that? It’s not hollow, which means you’ve got something up there. Don’t let it go to waste.”

“I’ll try my best. Oh! I think I can move again!” he said.

“Don’t push it if you can’t,” you warned, but he took no heed, boosting himself up until he was standing again. You sighed in relief, accepting his hand and allowing him to pull you to your feet. When he let go, you wobbled, and he darted over to wrap an arm around you.

“I’ll help you to the bench,” he said seriously.

“It’s not necessary,” you said, making no moves to shrug him off, “But if you insist.”

It was slow going, as Yuta refused to go any faster than the pace you set, but you made it over to his water and your cursed needles. You sat next to them, leaning against the back of the bench and closing your eyes, luxuriating in the feeling of the sun.

“Are you thirsty?” he said.

“A little, but I didn’t bring any water. I’ll survive,” you said.

“Here, take mine!” he said, all but thrusting it into your hands. You were startled at the exuberance, nearly dropping the bottle before trying in vain to give it back.

“I can’t take this. I don’t want you to suffer for my lack of preparation,” you said.

“It’s not like you’ll drink the whole thing,” he reasoned, “I’ll just have whatever’s left.”

It was funny; although he was so soft-spoken and well-mannered, he was occasionally as stubborn as a mule. Seeing no reason nor merit to arguing with him, you unscrewed the cap of the bottle and gratefully took a few sips before handing it to him.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Anytime,” he said. You were fascinated with the way his throat bobbed as he drank, his Adam’s apple evident whenever he swallowed. You busied yourself with reorganizing your cursed needles in an attempt to distract yourself, not appreciating the way you felt at the moment.

“So,” you said, “Sword training. How does it work?”

“I was just handed a sword and then repeatedly attacked until I figured it out, but I don’t think that that’s the best method, so I won’t subject you to it,” he said.

“Please don’t,” you said, shuddering at the thought.

“Hm, okay. I’ll set up a dummy and then I can show you how to hold and swing and stuff, I guess,” he said, leaving you alone as he raced towards the weapons shed, dragging a straw figure in the vague shape of a man out with him.

“Very impressive,” you said sarcastically as Yuta propped it up, “He looks very menacing.”

“Do you want one of the cursed puppets?” he said. “Those fight back.”

“Nothing that fights back, please. Not for a while,” you said immediately.

“I think you could take one, though,” he said.

“Not with a sword,” you said with a scoff.

“Maybe not,” he conceded, “Are you ready, or do you need more rest? I don’t mind waiting, it’s not like we’re doing anything else today.”

“I think I’ll be alright,” you said, joining him in front of the straw dummy and looking at it critically.

“Here’s your weapon,” he said, handing it to you. It was heavier than you had expected, and you nearly dropped it at first before rebalancing yourself to hold it properly. From behind you, he wrapped his arms around and repositioned your hands on the hilt. “There you go, that’s how Maki says a sword should be held.”

“Thanks,” you whispered, painfully aware of the way he was pressed against your back, though you did not need to look at him to know it was completely innocent on his part. He was genuinely trying to help you — you were the one with the deviant thoughts.

“There’s a couple of basic swings and parries that everyone has to learn before they can develop their own personal styles and ways of fighting. Here’s one,” he said. He guided the sword in a slashing arc. Your hands were trapped by his and therefore followed, your body memorizing the exact movements.

“What are the others?” you said. When he laughed, you could feel his body vibrate against yours pleasantly.

“You don’t want to practice this one first?” he said.

“I’d like to learn all of them and then decide which ones to practice,” you said.

“You know best,” he said, exhaling and then helping you swing the sword into the dummy’s heart, correcting your position as you went.

“This is even harder than I thought it would be,” you said, frozen in a lunge, the sword pointed out in front of you and Yuta crouched at your feet.

“You’re not that bad at it, actually, it’s just that you’re not as physically strong as, say, Maki — which certainly isn’t an insult. But it means that you’re overcompensating in other areas to make up for your weaker muscles,” he said, lifting your foot without warning. You squeaked, nearly tipping over, but he used his other hand to grip your opposite thigh, steadying you somewhat. You stared down at him, but he was focused on the ankle he held in the air.

“I’m going to fall,” you warned him.

“I won’t let you,” he assured you, “Rotate your ankle to the left a little. There you go.”

He placed your foot an inch behind where it had previously rested. Though you thought your knees would buckle, it actually made you feel more stable, your upper body straightening and the sword feeling a little lighter in your grip.

“Wait, that actually helped a ton!” you said in shock.

“Your stance is your base of support, like a foundation or something. If it’s off, then everything else will be thrown off, too, which makes this all more difficult than it needs to be,” he explained.

“You know so much already. You’re a real prodigy with this stuff, Yuta,” you said in wonder.

“I just have a good teacher. Maki’s the best of the best; I’m nothing compared to her,” he said modestly, stepping back and dusting himself off, nodding at you in approval.

“I think you don’t give yourself enough credit,” you said, casting the sword aside and beaming at him. “You’ll have Rika freed in no time!”

“I hope so,” he said, eyes crinkling around the corners, “She deserves to move on.”

“Agreed,” you said, “For both of your sakes, I hope she can soon.”

Later, as you were showering, you swore at yourself. What was wrong with you? Why did sparring with Yuta make you feel so strange? Your mock-fights with Maki were nothing like this — the only emotions you ever felt were pain or competitiveness. Practicing with Tullia usually ended with one or both of you laughing to the point of tears. The one time you had faced off against Toge, who had promised to not use his cursed speech, you had almost immediately lost due to his sheer athleticism. But even then, you had only felt embarrassed, not…whatever it was that Yuta evoked in you. It was a problem, a reaction specific to him, and you weren’t sure how you felt about that. You liked it. You didn’t like the fact that you liked it. You scrubbed at your skin in an attempt to make it go away, but it did nothing except for make you feel miserable and raw.

There was a knock at your door; you finished buttoning up your uniform and then went to answer it. To your surprise, it was Toge, holding a plate with a slice of cake on it.

“Is that for me?” you said.

“Salmon,” he said, handing it to you cheerfully.

“Thank you! Do you want to come in?” you said. He shrugged and followed you into the dorm room, standing in the middle as you settled at your desk and began to eat. You nodded at your bed.

“Bonito flakes,” he said immediately. You laughed at his hesitance.

“It’s only a bed, and you’re only sitting. Though, if you could stay on top of the covers, it would be appreciated,” you said. He narrowed his eyes but did as you said, sitting on your bed and observing you.

“Mustard leaf?” he said.

“It’s very good,” you said before you were struck with a fit of bold inspiration, “Say, Toge. I have a question.”

“Salmon,” he said. Perhaps he, with his limited vocabulary, was not the best person to go to for advice, but who else did you have? Tullia was very hit or miss with these types of things, so she would either say something deeply profound or deeply stupid. Maki would probably smack you, Gojo would make fun of you, and Panda…was a panda. Toge, kind, solid Toge, would at least hear you out. Maybe that was what you needed, more than any words of wisdom or plans of action.

“Suppose there’s someone who I’m friends with, but being around them makes me feel funny. Like, when I spar with them I feel all strange and hot inside, and I can’t help staring at them when they’re doing mundane things like drinking water, and I like it when they touch me, even if it’s just something like fixing my position or something while fighting. What does that mean?” you said.

He blinked at you as if processing this. You blinked back and then dug out a piece of paper and pen, handing it to him. He left it blank for a moment, probably trying to figure out what he wanted to say. You waited, continuing to eat the cake he had brought you.

Finally, he scribbled something down and handed it to you. You read it eagerly.

Not to be presumptuous, but it sort of sounds like you have a crush on this person. Which is a problem, because I get the sense we’re not talking about Noritoshi :/

“Uh, no, we’re not, but that’s ridiculous! Me having a crush? No way! I’m engaged!” you said. He snatched the paper back.

Just because you’re engaged doesn’t mean you magically lose the ability to have feelings for people. Is it Maki or Yuta?

“It’s Yuta — I mean, how do you know if it’s either?” you challenged.

Who else would it be? If it were me, you wouldn’t be asking for my help. If it were Tullia, you’d ask Maki for help. Panda…is a panda, so if it were him, we’d have bigger problems than infidelity on our hands.

“It’s not Panda!” you assured him.

I know that. You already said it was Yuta.

“Oh, I was…kind of hoping you didn’t catch that,” you admitted.

Sorry.

“Still, why do you think I have a crush on him?” you said.

Can I tell you a secret?

“I won’t let it leave this room,” you promised, pretending to zip your lips and then throw away an imaginary key. He clapped in approval before writing down a response.

So there’s this girl. Being around her makes me feel funny, and whenever she helps me cook, it makes me feel all strange and hot inside. I always catch myself staring at her, even if all she’s doing is eating her dinner or doing her homework. I really like when she touches me, even if it’s just our hands brushing when she gives me a pencil.

“Oh my god!” you squealed. “I knew it! I knew you liked Tullia! Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul, but just know that I’m your biggest fan! You guys will be so cute.”

Actually, I just rephrased everything you said about Yuta and made it about an imaginary girl. Unrelated, but…how do you know that I like Tullia? Am I being obvious or something?

You ignored his question, gaping at him. He cocked his head in confusion. Was it that simple? Was Toge right? Did you…have a — a — a crush? On Yuta Okkotsu?

“You’ve got to be joking!” you said, bursting into tears.

No, I really don’t want her finding out yet. I don’t think she feels the same way.

“I can’t like Yuta!” you wailed, “I’m supposed to marry Noritoshi! Why can’t I like him? He’s kind, and he’s handsome, and he cares about me, and he’s my future husband! Why don’t I feel this way about him? Why don’t I want to be with him?”

Well, Yuta’s pretty irresistible. It must be that special-grade sorcerer charm.

“Toge!” you snapped. He raised his hands in the air innocently.

Really, though, it’s not something you have control over. Try to think over what it is, exactly, that you like about him.

“He’s loyal, almost to a fault,” you said, remembering how he had carried you out of the school, “He’s brave and strong. He believes in me. He’s humble and caring.”

I’m sure the good looks are an added bonus.

“That, too,” you said, wiping at your face furiously, “Oh, dear, I really do have a crush on him. What do I do now?”

Elope?

“Please be serious,” you said. “After I graduate, I’m expected to marry Noritoshi and bear his children in order to continue the Kamo and L/N lines, as well as restore balance between the Big Three clans. Where does liking Yuta fit into all of that?”

It fits in however you want it to fit in. I’m not really sure what you want from me here.

“Just some advice or something. I’ve never had a crush on anyone! The closest I ever got was picking which sorcerer I’d like to be engaged to the most — before I was promised to Noritoshi,” you said.

Fascinating. It better have been me.

“It was,” you said, seeing no point in hiding it. He snickered devilishly; you were beginning to realize he was far more mischievous than he let on at first impression.

Good.

“Back to the original subject?” you said. He tapped the pen against his temple to signify that he was thinking.

Like I said, it’s really up to you. I can guarantee that if you, say, transfer schools and never speak to him again, your feelings for Yuta will fade. It might take a while, but they will. Is that what you want?

“No!” you said, recoiling at the thought. “How could you suggest that?”

It’s about the only reliable way you’ll get over him, but for some odd reason, it feels like you don’t want to get over him.

“I do want to get over him!” you said. Toge did not seem impressed nor convinced, even going so far as to make a soft, disbelieving humming sound.

Oh, yeah? Even if it means never feeling all hot and strange around him again? Even if it means never letting him touch you again? Even if it means never seeing him again? If you wanted to get over him, you’d be alright with transferring to Kyoto.

“I don’t want to leave you, Tullia, Panda, and Maki,” you said, but the words sounded weak to even your own ears.

If that’s what helps you sleep at night.

“Okay, fine! Maybe I don’t want to get over him! I want to know more about him. I want to know as much about him as I can. But is that even possible when I have this binding me?” you said, flashing your left hand at him. Your engagement ring glimmered in the lamplight.

You sound creepy. And, for what it's worth, no. I don’t think so. Being with Yuta is by nature going against what the higher ups have deemed your path in life. Even a friendship with him is damning; anything more is an outright death sentence. How do you feel about that?

“It’s not fair,” you said helplessly. His eyes softened, and he patted you on the head.

It’s not. I can’t tell you what to do, Y/N. But I’ll support you no matter what, and — sorry if I’m being too invasive or overstepping or anything — from what I can tell, you seem very happy with Yuta. Furthermore, you’re the only person he trusts out of all of us first years.

“You think I should be with him,” you said. He shook his head immediately.

I think you should do whatever you believe to be right. I’m only telling you what I’ve noticed. Perhaps it would be worthwhile for you to spend some time with Noritoshi in light of this development and see how you feel.

“That’s a good idea,” you said, “Thanks.”

Sure, anytime. And don’t worry too much about the higher ups. If they give you trouble, let me know. I’ll handle it.

“I appreciate the offer, but what could you do, realistically?” you said.

Tell them to shit themselves.

You let out a delighted laugh. “I love you.”

I get that a lot.

“Doubtful,” you teased. He neatly folded up the paper he had written on, pretending to scowl at you.

“Bonito flakes,” he said.

“Sorry, sorry. Have a nice night, Toge. Thank you for the cake and for helping me out so much,” you said. He saluted at you and then walked out of the room, tossing the paper into your sweet smelling candle and slamming the door behind him. You watched the flames curl around the white edges until the entire sheet was gone, all evidence of your conversation with Toge disappearing into wisps of smoke.

#yuuta x reader #yuuta x you #yuuta x y/n #canon au #reader insert #pomegranate ink #m1ckeyb3rry writes

[woozistoy]

Floating

Lee seokmin (DK) x reader

Genre: Angsty(?) But comforting, fluffyish

Summary: Crying in your car isn't so bad? At least it signals cute boys to come to your rescue and offer a healing smile.

Snack time: This is my first ever kpop fic and I did not expect it to be a sad sort of one but that's just the week it's been😭 this is very much an over-dramatic version of my week but this made me feel better.

It's been a frustrating week, to say the least. Your social battery is completely tapped out and all you want is a break but apparently, everyone else hasn't gotten the memo.

It felt like you were just barely floating above the water, desperate for someone to pull you out.

It felt like you were just barely floating above the water, desperate for someone to pull you out.

It felt like you were just barely floating above the water, desperate for someone to pull you out.

This all came to a head after you had to sit in traffic on the same street for nearly an hour on your way to school and almost got in a fight with a very uptight pedestrian.

Pulling into a spot along the street of the campus you parked and shut off the car. The silence surrounding you as the events of the past week filled your mind.

By that point, it was too much. Nothing was going right and nothing felt right. Tilting your head back to prevent the tears from coming down did nothing as you felt your face soon become a snotty wet mess.

All of a sudden you heard a light tapping on the window. You looked up to see another student. Well, you assumed he was. You've never seen him in one of your classes but you think you've seen him around.

"Hi, I'm sorry did you need me to move my car?" you started hurriedly wiping the tears from your face. Attempting to make yourself look more presentable but considering what just happened you assume he's already seen the meltdown you had.

He looked nervous. Trying not to look directly at your red nose and slightly runny mascara.

"Actually I was gonna ask if you were ok? You seemed really upset and I know when I'm upset I like to talk it out with a friend" he replied. Hands fidgeting as he struggled to complete his thoughts.

He didn't know why he decided to come up to you. Maybe you wanted to be alone and this was your only time to really let go.

However the second he saw your face he knew you didn't want to be alone.

The feeling of relief washed over you as you quickly nodded, scrambling to unlock the car to let him in. He awkwardly climbed into the passenger seat. Bookbag sat on his lap as he clung to it for dear life.

"I'm sorry, I don't normally look like this" you chuckled trying to lighten the mood. It was weird. You felt calmer but you also felt suffocated by the new presence beside you.

"It's fine, nothing wrong with letting out a good cry once in a while" you nodded at this, not knowing what else to say. The car slowly filled with awkward tension. Neither of you really knowing what to say.

You were about to apologize and send him away, feeling slightly embarrassed for bothering him until you heard him clear his throat. Slowly shifting to face you.

"I know it's a little weird to tell a stranger your problems but I promise I'm a good listener! Unless you don't want to which is fine as well! Sometimes you don't need to talk things out, sometimes you just need to cry and then carry on!" He was rambling at this point and you hate to admit you found it kind of charming.

"Actually I've been waiting all week for someone to listen" you faded off towards the end of the sentence. Head down as sadness once again filled your body.

"Well, I've been told I'm great at listening so talk away!" He chirped. You couldn't tell if he was always this happy or if he was trying to lighten the mood. Either way the suffocation you felt earlier was no longer there. A strange sense of comfort filled its place.

You told him everything. The frustrating life of a commuter, the distance you feel between you and your friend group, the stress of working as a student. He listened through all of it. Nodding along, giving the occasional comment here and there.

You felt seen

After you were done you felt 10 times lighter. Releasing a breath you never knew you were holding in. A small smile gracing your face.

"That was definitely a lot to be holding in" he sighed. He was no longer overthinking his decision to come to you. Seeing the look of relief on your face after being able to share the weight was a nice opposition from the devastation that once adorned it.

"I'm sorry that was probably too much" the realization that this was a complete stranger now hit you as guilt and embarrassment once again started to creep in. However that was soon crushed as he took your hands, his eyes filled with care and kindness.

"Don't be sorry, If I didn't care then I wouldn't have come up to you." His smile was blinding. Almost like looking at the sun. A refreshing change of scenery.

"All that crying probably made you hungry. Did you wanna go get food? I promise I'll pay if you drive" he proposed. Big eyes looking at you in hope of swaying your decision in his favor.

Looking at the clock you realized you were supposed to be in class 20 minutes ago. Normally you would still go but today felt different.

Agreeing you let go of his hands to start up the car, hands feeling instantly colder at the loss of contact. As you pulled out of your spot and drove you couldn't help yourself from looking at the man beside you. Humming along as he started telling you about himself.

The water no longer swallowing you under but lifting you closer to him.

#seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #lee seokmin #dokyeom #lee seokmin imagines #lee seokmin angst #dokyeom imagines #dokyeom angst #seventeen scenarios #lee seokmin x reader #dokyeom x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen x y/n #lee seokmin scenarios #dokyeom scenarios #svt #svt seokmin #svt dokyeom

[gloomysoup]

listen, love my job. working with littles is both amazing and exhausting but i wouldn't have it any other way. there's something very satisfying about the connections i've been able to make with them and the progress i've seen in the short time i've been at this childcare center. however, sometimes i think the lead teacher in my room should not be a teacher.

she's a nice person and all, good with the kids, but she doesn't seem... like she's fit for the job, is all. she's never in the classroom and often fails to communicate lesson plans or ideas, and hardly ever takes suggestions. this week we're doing butterflies with our littles and the other day, she straight up asked me if a caterpillar comes before a chrysalis. she was 100% serious. she had no clue. after i told her that yes, caterpillars come before the chrysalis, bc that's how life cycles work, i made a little joke about that being elementary school biology that she should know, being the lead teacher and all. she said she thought science was stupid. granted, it could have been a joke in response to my joke, and the other teacher's jokes that followed, but part of me doesn't think it was.

and then there's the cocomelon shit. let it be known that as a daycare teacher, and someone who has taken courses in early childhood development and psychology, i absolutely resent cocomelon. it is horrible for a child's developing brain. it's overstimulating in several aspects, and it doesn't actually teach anything. it is, subjectively speaking, one of the worst kids shows i've ever come across in terms of how it helps with development. i've read psychological studies and articles about the negative affects cocomelon can have.

and yet, this woman lets her own child watch it. she puts on cocomelon songs for the kids i work with all the time. she has praised cocomelon and talks often about how much her toddler loves it. i refuse to let anything cocomelon play while i'm in the classroom bc i cannot stand it. i've also stood my ground on this, explained my point of view to the other teachers. it has not been played while i'm present since, but i have walked into the room to certain songs playing before.

obviously, everyone is entitled to their own opinion, and not every teacher is going to have the same views on early childhood education, but the things just keep piling up with her. and it's really starting to annoy me. she tries to act like she knows so much and does all these lesson plans, but not once has she clued me in on anything. not once has she asked my opinion or acknowledged my suggestions. maybe i'm just looking too far into things that aren't there, but i just don't believe she makes a very good lead teacher. all we seem to do is sit and watch the kids play while kidz bop or cocomelon plays on the ipad. and while that's great sometimes, it doesn't feel like a lot of learning is happening. and if i try to bring this up and offer suggestions, i simply get shut down. at this point, i'm not sure what i can do. i would take it to the director, but this teacher is the director's daughter in law and is often shown favoritism. she spends more time talking in the office than she does her own classroom. i also apparently dont have the qualifications to be considered a teacher, even though i have more than enough college credits, so there's nothing i can do on that end unless i wanna put myself back through school. which is not really in the cards for me right now either.

so basically, i'm stuck. and this sucks. and i've seriously thought about asking if i can be moved to the pre k room instead, but there's very specific reasons that i was placed as a closer in the classroom im in and i don't want those things to go back to how they were before.

#gloomysoup rambles #personal rant

[wonderstruck-land89]

so basically this is what I got from the ttpd promo:

🤍“i've got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you” → the little thrown out papers in the midnights room (x.)

🤍“threw out our cloaks and our daggers because it’s morning now” → “my twisted knife” → “took this dagger in me and removed it” → “the knife cuts both ways” → “one less temptress, one less dagger to sharpen” (he may have cheated on her????)

🤍“i got tired of waiting, wondering if you were ever coming around” → “could’ve loved you all my life if you hadn’t left me waiting in the cold” → “you know how to keep me waiting, i know how to act like i’m fine” → “the waiting is a sadness fading into madness” → “and all at once you are the one I have been waiting for” → “he'd better lock it down, or I won't stick around cause good ones never wait” → “i wait by the door like I’m just a kid” → “i wait patiently, he’s gonna notice me” → “i sit there silently waiting for you to look up” → “even statues crumble if they're made to wait” (waiting for a marriage proposal maybe?? (x. x. x.))

🤍“lightning strikes every time she moves” → “my eclipsed sun” → “crowd goes wild at her fingertips, half moonshine, full eclipse” (attention never escapes her)

🤍“regretting him was like wishing you never found out that love could be that strong”→ “i just wish I could forget when it was magic” → “i recall late November” → “i wish i could un-recall how we almost had it all” (she wanted to remember the relationship in the beginning but not anymore?)

🤍“i’ve been giving out chances every time and all you do is let me down”→ “second, third, and hundredth chances, balancing on breaking branches” → “should i take chances when no one took chances on me?” → “let the games begin” → “lost the game of chance, what are the chances?” (“[…]they've had rough patches before and always worked things out, so friends thought they would take some time apart but eventually come back together […]” x.)

🤍this pic from the library → “cause they got the cages, they got the boxes and guns” → “gold cage, hostage to my feelings” (her feelings were 'hunted' by the media, but then she caged them herself, now they're out (ttpd)?)

🤍this pic from the library → “cause you were never a saint and i loved in shades of wrong” (apparently shades of wrong is now golden??)

🤍“i wake and watch you breathing with your eyes closed” → “clearing the air, I breathed in the smoke” → “when I was drowning, that’s when I could finally breathe” → “you take a deep breath and you walk through the doors” → “and I can’t breathe without you but I have to” → “i hold my breath a little bit longer, halfway out the door but it won't close” → “when the lights go out, it’s hard to breathe” (this could've been her reality in those first few months after the breakup tho, like, she would go onstage and put on a mask, but then she'd crumble alone maybe?) → “let go of the words they hurl your way as you're walking out the door” → “the trick to holding on, was all that letting go” → “in the death of her reputation, she felt truly alive” → “as she was leaving, it felt like she was breathing”

🤍this pic from the library → “when the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst” → “I picked the petals, he loves me not”

🤍this pic from the library → “my veins of pitch black ink”

🤍“and you’re thinking we’ll be fine again, but not this time around” → “i say, there’s nothing you can say to make this right again” → “in my dreams you’re touching my face and asking me if i wanna try again with you” → “and all the times i let you in, just for you to go again” → “and there we are again when nobody had to know” → “everybody's waiting for you to break down, everybody's watching to see the fallout” → “come one come all, it’s happening again” (everyone's watching her to now what her next move is)

🤍“love is a ruthless game unless you play it good and right” → “i hate that because of you i can’t love you” → “why’d you have to make me love you?” → “you don’t knock anymore and my whole life’s ruined” → “you’ve ruined my life by not being mine” → “and you know damn well, for you i would ruin myself a million little times” → “but what would you do if i break free and leave us in ruins” → “i love you, it’s ruining my life”

🤍“got a history of stories ending sadly” → “what a sad beautiful tragic love affair” → “the waiting is a sadness fading into madness” → “you make me so happy it turns back to sad” → “no other sadness in the world would do” → “sapphire tears on my face, sadness became my whole sky” → “every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness” “and I never don’t cry at the bar, yeah, my sadness is contagious” → “how long could we be a sad song ‘til we were too far gone to bring back to life?” → “you don’t get to tell me about sad”

🤍“mr. never had to see my cry” → “no apologies, he’ll never see you cry” → “so step right out, there is no amount of crying I can do for you” → “i vowed not to cry anymore if we survived the great war” → “am i allowed to cry?”

🤍“but I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain” → “you haven’t written me or called by goodbye screaming in the silence” → “i screamed so loud but no one heard a thing” → “now your silence has be screaming, screaming” → “stood on the cliffside screaming, “give me a reason”” → “and I still talk to you when i’m screaming at the sky” → “and maybe it’s the past that’s talking, screaming from the crypt” → “old habits die screaming”

i added the ones i remembered, so tell me if i missed any (ik the apple music secret messages aren't here but idk what to relate them with 😔)

#taylor swift #ttpd #easter eggs #ts ttpd

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Reiji Ecstasy [10]

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

ー The scene starts in the Church

Seiji: The Church has decided to sentence you to death. ...No hard feelings, okay? 

Reiji: ...

( I shamelessly waltz onto enemy territory, only to get myself killed. What an absolute joke. )

( I doubt this would have ever happened to Father in the past. )

( How come I feel so conflicted, even though this was a decision I made myself...? I suppose I was never suited to be a King after all. )

( Father...Your decision was right. )

( With such an incomponent fool on the throne, the Vampire race as well as the whole entire world will soon enough come to an end. )

( I can...never be like you. )

Seiji: Say something. 

Reiji: ...Yes, I understand. However, will you be satisfied with only taking my life? 

Seiji: Only those immense powers you possess pose any threat to us. 

Once we have gotten rid of those, the other Vampires are nothing but a bunch of fools not even worth our time. 

Reiji: ...

ー The scene shifts to the forest

Kino: ーー And there you have it. It has been decided that Sakamaki Reiji will take you guys’ place and be executed. 

Yui: You’re lying...!

Kino: It’s the truth. Moreso, your Father is the one who decided it. Ahaha, life is cruel, isn’t it? 

Yui: No way...! Let me see Father!

He might just reconsider if I ask him. ...So! Please...!

Kino: Hahー He won’t, trust me. He considers you to be corrupted, you see? 

Don’t you think he might just shoot you if you run up to him? 

Yui: No way...

( Is there really no other way? I don’t want to just wait for his execution...! )

*Rustle*

Azusa: Eve...Hang in there... 

Ayato: ...Oi, what are you guys doin’ together with Reiji? 

Yuma: It’s a long story. ...But we decided to follow the dude. 

Laito: Hmm~? Out of your own free will? 

Kou: Pretty much. 

Shuu: ...So, what are you going to do? 

Azusa: Hmー...

Kanato: ...It’s no fair that only Reiji will get to die ahead of us. 

Subaru: Exactly. 

Male Clergyman B: Woman, listen. The Vampire King has requested an audience with you. Follow me. 

Yui: ...! Yes!

Azusa: Wait. I’ll go with her...

Kino: You can’t. I won’t let you go, unless you go by yourself. 

Yui: ...Azusa-kun, please. I’ll be alright by myself, okay? 

Azusa: But...

Yui: I’m begging you! Let me see Reiji-san...

Azusa: Eve...Okay, I understand. 

Yuma: Don’t try and do anythin’ reckless, ‘kay? 

Yui: Yes, thank you. 

ー The scene shifts to the Church

Yui: Reiji-san...!

Reiji: Yui!

ー She embraces him

*Rustle*

Yui: Why are you being executed...I don’t want that. I won’t be able to handle it!

What happened? Is there anything I can do...?

I don’t want you...to disappear...! Didn’t you promise that you’d stay with me...!? 

Reiji: ...Yui. 

*Rustle*

Yui: ( Even though he’s holding me tightly in his arms, I can’t help but be overcome by fear. )

( I can’t stop shaking... )

Reiji: ...What can I do to make you smile? 

Selection

→ Fabricate a smile (❦)

Yui: ( ...It’s just the two of us finally, I have to smile...! )

Reiji: ...It is that smile of yours which secretly continued to comfort me. 

...My apologies for forcing you, but the sentiment makes me incredibly happy. 

Yui: Uu...

( I can’t. When he says something so sweet, I’ll cry again...! )

→ Fail to stop the tears 

Yui: ( That’s impossible...! )

*Rustle rustle* 

Yui: ( It’s already hard enough to suppress my voice as I bury my face in Reiji-san’s chest like this...! )

Reiji: ...I suppose this works as well. 

I cannot say I dislike you doing this. 

*Rustle rustle*

Reiji: ...Did you calm down a little? 

Yui: Yes...I’m so sorry. 

Reiji: No, I should apologize for surprising you. 

Yui: ...Let’s run away. Everyone is waiting for us outside, so I’m sure we’ll be able to make it ouーー 

Reiji: No, I cannot do that. ...Please take a look at my hands. 

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: ( He’s got something around his wrists. I’ve never seen anything like it before... )

Reiji: Apparently this is a tool developed by the Church which suppresses one’s magic. 

I do not know what kind of research they did but...I must say the end result is quite impressive. As a result, I gave up on trying to escape. 

Yui: No way...!

Reiji: I suppose they only called you over here because they had these to fall back on. I suppose that’s one good thing about them. 

Yui: I can’t just wait for you to get executed!

There should be something we can do...So please don’t give up!

Reiji: I am powerless right now. ...No, not just now. I have been powerless all along. 

Deep down, I knew painfully well that I could never follow in my Father’s footsteps. 

Yui: Eh...?

Reiji: Even so, I truly felt happy knowing that he chose me. It had been my life-long wish after all. 

However, ever since I gained these powers, my own powerlessness only became even more apparent to me.

...It has become very clear to me that it is simply impossible for me. 

Yui: Don’t say that...You tried so very hard, didn’t you? 

Reiji: Yes. I racked my brain, struggled and fought till the bitter end. 

Ever so often, you would cheer me on, comfort me, or look out for me wherever you could...We spent many moments together, did we not? 

And at the end of all that, there is one thing I realized. 

I believe that I was chosen, exactly because I am powerless. ...As the Adam who will lead this World to its demise. 

Yui: Demise? ...What do you mean? 

Reiji: In other words, Father was well aware from the very beginning that I would fail to control these powers. 

He saw right through me, and realized that I could never be capable of wielding this immense force or in other words, attain the status of God. 

Yui: God...

Reiji: Yes. A true God does not allow himself to feel ever, no matter what. 

He must be someone who transcends everything in this World. 

Because Father was once a God like that, Eden was maintained and he ruled over the Demon World. 

...I figured I could be like that as well. However, it was more than impossible. 

No matter how hard I tried to fight my feelings for you...I could not get rid of them. 

I failed as a Vampire King. Therefore, I believe I have to now take responsibility for my own failure. 

Just like Father wished for, I will destroy the future in which the Vampire race gets to live on for eternity, and put an end to everything...

I believe...that is my final duty. 

Yui: ...You aren’t a failure!

You are the ideal King both to me and to the others!

So....Please don’t say such sad things...!

*Knock knock* 

Male Clergyman A: It’s time. ...Leave, woman. 

Yui: Once the door opens, let’s run togeーー 

Reiji: Did I not just tell you? I will take responsibility in my own way. ...Therefore, I cannot go with you. 

Yui: No...I won’t be able to cope with it. 

*Click* 

Yui: !

Reiji: It is time. ...Please try not to make choices which will only bring harm upon yourself, okay? 

I believe in you. 

Yui: ...!

Reiji: Farewell, my beloved Eve. 

Monologue

What makes one God? 

Never had I ever asked myself said question before. 

I am left speechless at the answer he arrived at,

after gaining such immense powers. 

Someone who does not let themselves get swayed by anything,

but instead looks at things from a neutral point of view. 

It is simply too tragic, knowing that someone would not be allowed,

to feel joy, fear, grief or pleasure (喜恐哀楽), nor experience any other slight shift in emotion. 

However, I am sure that those who have once gotten a taste of kindness (優しさ),

will never be able to give it up again. 

Exactly because I am convinced of that,

I refuse to let him be sacrificed. 

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #reiji sakamaki #lost eden #diabolik lovers translation #lereijiecstasy10

[hamliet]

How To Write Badly 101: The Season

Or, I review The Dragon Prince season 4, at the urging of a friend who is much more invested than I am. If you do not want to read immense salt and criticism, this is your warning.

My expectations for were extremely low and somehow the show managed to dig a tunnel beneath and go lower than I thought possible. Disclaimer: I've never been hugely invested, so I'm mostly amused about this game of how low can you go?

Claudia continues to be the only actual character of substance, while Once Characters Rayla and Soren slowly lose their potential. Never a Character Callum continues to be a lamp passed around the plot who gets things just for being a lamp.

A lamp character is a character who could be replaced by a lamp and there'd be minimal to no change on the actual story. It's pretty bad when your main protagonist is a lamp. What makes him even worse than, say, Alina in Grishaverse, is that Callum is treated like he's a special lamp when there's canonically zilch special about him. At least Alina is like, literally light and no one is like her. Callum is just an IKEA piece. He's a mage but cool, what does that cost him?

The time gap supposedly had major events happen off screen--especially romantically. Except... none of it is really explained, and thus it falls flat. Rayla and Callum broke up because there's never been tension between them and they offer each other nothing at all in a ship, which becomes apparent especially when they're together. Breaking them up is a way to at least manufacture tension. If you can call that tension, because their breakup added nothing at all to their character arcs.

Not that Callum's ever had an arc. But honestly, like, you need to show conflict. You need to have Callum saying that it triggers his fear of losing people, show him distressed more than just moping. Show him distressed by his actions, or present passivity as a flaw, but Callum has never had an actual flaw introduced so there's no place for this plotpoint to build besides "let's create tension for shippers."

Rayla... I like her. I want to like her even more, but her leaving is never explained. She seeks Claudia for... reasons? Presumably her parents? But y'know, you need to actually show consequences for leaving, and explain why she decided to come back more than just "the dragon queen was coming!" Was she lonely? What provoked her to come back? What are you trying to tell us? (Nothing. They don't have a story.)

Rayla's choice towards the end of the season was utterly ridiculous. The coins needed to be mentioned, like, way earlier in the season to remind us rather than just coming out of nowhere. Her grief needed to be explored, and her running away was like... an opportunity there, but it wasn't explored, so her choice to trade Terry for the coins had no resonance at the end. There were no consequences, no results, no impact of that choice. It was just empty. Like the show.

Terry... hoo boy. I want to like Terry. I kind of do despite how much of an obvious "morality pet" he is in the plot. His relationship with Claudia is very sweet, but again, it comes from nowhere. We have no exploration of what this means to them, no idea of what drew Terry and Claudia together, no idea of the basis of their emotional bond. You can't build a compelling ship without that.

Lastly, Terry's rebuke of Claudia towards the end was... bizarre, and nonsensical writing-wise. Like. The end of the last season showed a body. Claudia clearly killed people to bring her father back. So why is Terry horrified by Claudia taunting Rayla with fake coins about her parents, especially when it's to save his life? Terry also has previously killed someone who was about to kill Claudia. Make it make sense.

Soren... baby. You absolutely cannot cut the reunion between him and Viren. And yet! They did! I'm sorry but???? You absolutely can't skip that? For either Soren or Viren's arcs? Unless you're dropping both arcs, which it sure looks like you're doing.

Also, the plot. Nothing. Happened. The entire season. We need to free Aaravos in 30 days! At the end of the season, he still ain't free, and I'm begging him to appear because dear dragons someone needs to shake up this world.

Oh, okay, sometimes threats needed to happen. I wouldn't really call it plot, but there were occasional moments of pretend peril. The dragon went nuts in the end and almost killed them for... reasons I guess? I'm sorry but I don't understand why and the why doesn't matter in the end; it was the peril that was important because stakes! Except there aren't any.

Rule 1 of writing: anytime you have "and then" instead of "because" or "but" linking events/plot points, you're f*cked. It's boring.

Also, the sun elf subplot... was awful. Janai had no arc, and the story didn't parallel or link with the A plot. Her romance with Amaya is cute but again, the bond between them is not explored this season--it's told. Show us moments where they only have each other, moments where duty and love both tug at the heart!

The actual story itself was like an attempt to copy Black Panther, with the brother challenging the heir, but make it pointless because boring is clearly the vision they're aiming for. Because the Sun Elf Queen just wins because she's good, and people are good. Which is not itself a bad theme, but the point is that this whole plotline went nowhere and changed nothing for the story as a whole. It's dumb. Listen I am all for optimism in stories, especially those catered towards kids, but make it matter! Otherwise it's just boring!

And sure, maybe these things will matter towards the endgame? Maybe? But it should matter this season as well, and considering how poorly the show has done making everything matter so far, well, I am not holding my breath.

#hamliet reviews #the dragon prince season 4

[streetslost]

@boriys ( don't mind making a new thread for our thread, i didn't use beta apparently on my first post and so trim reblogs was not functioning so jUST STARTING A NEW ONE TO AVOID THE ANNOYANCE- ) cont.

               IF ONLY SCREAMING INTO THE OBLIVION was a viable way of solving problems.  of doing more than just providing a release from the energy and anger; a TEMPORARY one.  a bottle screwed tightly shut yet somehow still always filling back up, thriving and pushing and growing all the more intense with every day that passed.  it was a slow buildup, perhaps, but still an ever forming danger.  to herself, to others... the b u r s t whenever it happened was sudden and intense.  was sharp and powerful.  cat feared her own edges, not that such an addmittance would ever leave her.  she couldn't afford to nestle in concerns ( literally and figuratively ).  survival was maintained, and the forced smile, the forced bravery against every little thing would forever get yanked into place.  until she shattered and split and broke and took anyone nearby down with her.          over and over and over and over... a cycle, a repetition, a drumbeat keeping the rhythm of a song.  inescapable.  at least for now, though the street rat hadn't done much to try and alleviate herself from the routine.  just suffer and wane.  just d e c a y.  ( she deserved it, she did, no one wanted her, no one needed her, she was just a waste of space, taking up air, taking up room, wasting food, was-  wait what? )                      attention snapped back to him, and frustration etched her features at the comment provided.  her height was a sensitive subject.  it was a sign of her poor health, of her life falling into ruins.  he couldn't have known that from a glance, but cat still grated her teeth together, the huff audible through gritted teeth.  words remained trapped behind the whites, where lips carved once more into her HALF crazed grin, instead managing to distract herself with the yell he would unleash himself.  it was similar but different.  his looks mirrored as such, as well.  clearly on the road, but not for as long.  there was still something fresh about the vibe he held.  or perhaps it was simply the fact he didn't seem trodden as she.

       "thinking tha' doesn't mean much," dry tone slipped out.  features finally eased, and apathy resumed its play.  the comment of her stature hadn't been forgotten, but brunette decided to let it slip... briefly.  it wasn't like he was stating anything WRONG, just a fact that she despised.  tongue swiped her lips, the cracks of dry flesh stinging with the sensation.  "people will hear someone in distress and do nothing unless it benefits them.  but guess i'd still rather do it out here where there's less likely t'be any sort of attention.  why you out here?"                  perhaps she knew the answer... perhaps not.  regardless, cat filled the void with her inquiry, hands still shoved deep in her pockets and tennis shoes scuffing the ground in effort to kick a rock down along the track.

#boriys #&&. verse ( nothing gold can stay ) #i am so slow !!! #sorry LIFE BE LIKE THAT- #but excited to finally respond i'm already in love with this #also sorry about the new thread issue I DID A DUMB #i'm trying to stay mostly on beta but i have a few legacy threads still #so i forgot to switch when making your starter ajkflsd;aj

[contreparry]

Happy Friday! How about "Fireflies and cicadas" from the summertime prompts?

Here's some Bran Surana and Alistair friendship for @dadrunkwriting!

Bran wasn't an outdoors person.

He liked a temperature-controlled environment, where he wouldn't have to deal with weather, pollen, or insects. No insects, please and thank you. His grandmother would be terribly embarrassed that her grandson was so... incapable. Bran felt a little bit of shame color his cheeks at the thought. Couldn't pitch a tent, couldn't start a fire without magic, couldn't even catch a fish or find something edible in the wilderness!

Maybe this trip would change things.

"The forests around here are pretty remarkable," Alistair said as he clambered over the rocky shoreline. "Big pine trees, got some scrubby bushes- oak trees, maybe? I don't know my trees."

"Neither do I," Bran replied, and he poked at the smoldering pile of twigs and logs with a stick. This would all be so much easier if Alistair would let him blast the wood with a fireball, but he promised to try to light a fire with matches and tinder. Despite it all (hardship, outdoors, lack of coffee) Bran was... content. Alistair's joy was infectious, and as the cicadas in the woods hummed like an overheated computer Bran sat back and stared up at the clouds floating across the sky.

"It's... nice. Pretty," Bran said slowly. "Don't know if it is something for me, but... it's a nice change." Maybe he should get out of the lab and the shop more often. He hadn't felt the sun on his face in ages, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was always being watched whenever he was in the city. When Alistair offered to take him on a camping trip ("Just for the weekend on the coast! Promise!"), Bran jumped at the chance to escape what felt like a cage.

"I was going to invite Leliana as well, but she's... apparently heading back to Val Royeux? Some sort of party hosted by her aunt," Alistair said. He flopped into a canvas camping chair and stared out over the sparkling waters of the bay.

"I didn't know she had family," Bran remarked. As cheerful and warm as Leliana was, she was somewhat a mystery to him. For one thing, she was one of the few people who seemed to understand his alchemical research. She also let him study at Witches' Brew, topping off his coffee whenever she passed. Said that he was "good for the ambiance" and let him stay for hours even when Morrigan loudly complained about "free-loading bookworms" drinking all the coffee.

"It's complicated. Morrigan threatened to turn me into a frog if I asked," Alistair shuddered. "Didn't realize they were so close."

"Maybe Morrigan's being territorial," Bran suggested. Morrigan was like that. If she liked someone, she showed it with an over-protective stance, snapping at anyone who bothered those she cared for. For example, even though she complained about Bran lurking in the coffee shop, she never kicked him out. She might tease Leliana mercilessly, but she was the first to jump to her defense. And even if she mocked Alistair, Bran noticed that she always happened to have peanut butter cookies in stock just for him.

"Might be. Apparently she threatened to kick a man in the shins. Because he was, uh... looking. At you. In a funny way?" Alistair said.

"Huh."

"She also suggested I get you out of town. Same with Leliana," Alistair whistled. "Maker's Balls, might be the first time the two of them agreed on something!"

"Will wonders ever cease?" Bran mumbled, a thread of concern worming its way into his heart. Maybe he wasn't being paranoid after all. Maybe he was being watched. But by who? He hadn't noticed anything odd. At least, nothing out of the ordinary. There was the guy with the designer boots at the bookshop who flirted with him once, but otherwise Bran's life was incredibly ordinary. Normal! Why would anyone bother to spy on him? Unless they were some elf-hating racist prick, but that was just... that kind of came with the territory. It wasn't unusual.

But having friends who cared was. Alistair clapped his hand on Bran's shoulder and grinned broadly, his reddish-brown hair bright in the sunshine.

"C'mon. I'll teach you how to catch a fish," he declared. "Duncan says there's a good fishing spot down the beach. And the fireflies will come out when the sun goes down!"

Bran rose to his feet and pulled his sweatshirt over his head. Weather and insects aside, maybe this whole outdoors thing wasn't so bad after all.

#da drunk writing circle #my writing

[blametheeditor]

On The Fritz | Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

previously part of inktober

Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of trapping someone. Mentions of death. Thinking about being crushed, being forced to leave, being rejected. Mentions of a house being broken into (a friend who doesn't have a key)

Run Down: David agreed to take care of someone named Fritz. He did not sign up for being the guardian of the physical embodiment of the word ‘fritz’.

Hello motivation, my old friend

___________________________

Fritz didn’t think he’d get this far. 

He’d been dreading the day that, inevitably, at least one of the guards would figure out he’s not exactly human. He even tried to plan the perfect time and place in order to conduct a proper speech after weeding out which person would be the best to confide in. 

“Pocket is apparently too easy to escape from.” 

Of course, it got a bit...complicated after his mom died. Being too struck with grief to want to face the chance he could be rejected. Wrecked with overwhelming loss making it so he could only concentrate on one day at a time. 

“Jar could definitely work...” 

And, well, that’s what landed him in the literal hands of David. 

To be perfectly honest, the business man was the last person on his list to explain his...heritage to. Out of everyone, he expected nothing but hatred and disgust, the conversation ending with the demand Fritz leave forever. 

“Unless the dumbass shoves it off the counter.” 

That, or being crushed like the insignificant insect he’s constantly compared to despite never shrinking before until now. 

So he was terrified when David walked into the office with a jar in hand. Forced himself not to reveal how petrified he was after being swept up and deposited into a pocket. Darted around the house in complete panic as the business man slept, pleading that it’s not just sleep deprivation that hasn’t lost Fritz a home or his life. 

“Then there’s the whole Scott thing.” 

Fritz hesitates as the hands keeping him trapped inside a small ball of darkness no longer jolt slightly with every step taken, freezing at the realization he hasn’t exactly been paying attention to what David’s been doing. Considering there’s also been a distinct rumble every few seconds, it’s safe to say his fate for how they’re going to evade Scott has been planned without his input. 

Yet he’s not afraid. Worried, yes. He’s very worried for the David Harrison to have someone two inches tall completely at his mercy. 

But he’s only been trapped no more than a few minutes. In hands that could easily crush him and yet they haven’t tightened their grip at all. Something that only happened because Fritz was about to speed around the house for a second time, and that wouldn’t have helped anyone. 

Suddenly his confinement slowly opens for light to briefly blind him. Once his eyes adjust, his only glimpse at the outside world is David’s concerned expression. 

“Are you okay?” 

No, but he nods his head. 

“Are you going to speed off the second I open my hands?” 

Fritz finds himself taking a deep breath. Reminding himself that through all of this, David hasn’t hurt him. Hasn’t demanded answers in exchange to not be welcomed at the house or restaurant ever again. 

There’s still tension in his shoulders, unused energy demanding he flies in serpentine patterns. He shoves it away because the only way they can communicate is if he stays calm. David won’t hurt him. Neither will Scott or any of the others. 

A dramatic nod has the hand hovering above his head removed completely. But before he can try and stand up, a thumb settles over his chest, pinning him to the palm acting as a platform. 

Fritz goes as still as a statue. Staring at the digit taller than him. The reminder that if he doesn’t use his magic to its full extent, he’s completely and absolutely vulnerable. 

One look up at hazel eyes bigger than his head, however, keeps himself from doing the one thing he promised never to do on any of the guards. Feels himself relax if barely an inch at the awe and concentration to make sure there isn’t too much pressure being applied to keep him in place. 

He does silently yelp though as he’s lifted up a bit too quickly as David stares at him. 

“You’re absolutely tiny.” 

And you’re horrifyingly giant.

Fritz is allowed to be upset his very first time interacting with a human in his true form ended with him being forgotten in lieu of a nap. After being snatched up. As if David doesn’t realize just how big six feet is to someone two inches tall. 

That means he’s justified to cross his arms angrily, kicking at the pinky loosely curled toward him. 

He did not mean for it to twitch in response, scaring him enough he jumps, letting David laugh as he rubs it in Fritz’s face just how powerful he currently is. 

“It’s not my fault you’re shrunk,” the business man grins. “I’m pretty sure that was all you.” 

Doesn’t matter, I don’t need you messing with me!

Fritz glares as his words aren’t comprehended despite being a few feet away, close enough to read lips. Unless that particular boast was just a lie to try and one-up Eggs. 

David doesn’t respond and Fritz is definitely telling Eggs, glancing somewhere toward the kitchen before looking the redhead up and down. “Is there any way you’re able to grow and join the big kid's table? Preferably before Scott gets here?” 

His mouth turns dry at the reminder his secret is out and at the worst time possible. Because he can’t grow. Because he’s still a child, a baby compared to others, and the last time this happened he pretended to be sick for a week because he can’t control his magic, and his mom would be gently chastising him for not practicing for six months straight but he’s been alone and afraid and he’ll be stuck because he can’t /control his emotions especially without help and-! 

“Fritz,” has him jerking back into reality, chest heaving with panic as David towers over him despite being eyelevel. Forces himself not to flinch as a finger lightly brushes his hair back. “It’s okay, dumbass. We’ll figure this out.” 

We. We’ll figure this out.

All he can do is nod before snatching the finger still hovering close, unable to feel proud in the fact the action made David sputter. 

“Let’s start at the beginning,” the business man finally murmurs after clearing his throat. “Do you know when you’ll be able to?” 

Fritz tilts his hand to show he has a good idea. Certainly not an exact one. He’s on his own trying to reign his magic in this time. 

“What’s your guess.” 

David’s brow furrows as Fritz holds up seven fingers. “In seven hours?” Head shake. “Seven days!” A nod. “Oh hell no!” 

“I should be saying that to you.” 

They both freeze up at the voice definitely not coming through a phone. Before Fritz can motion for David, the thumb keeping him pinned vanishes, along with the claimed finger. He doesn’t move an inch as the giant then turns toward an extremely angry Scott standing by the front door.

One who actually is here a lot sooner than expected. And with how much his chest his heaving, he ran all the way here.

That’s when the business man growls. “Uh, no. When the hell did you get a key?” 

“Vince.” 

“The mutated grape picks locks! Why would he-!” The rant is cut off as Scott only meets the glare. “You did not.” 

“Where is Fritz.” 

If he had any chance of getting out of confronting the eldest guard, it was lost right then. Looking up at David scowling down at him let’s him know it’s his fault the house has technically been broken into. “Well go on. He came for you.” 

Fritz doesn’t move. He can’t. Not while he stands in the hand of any angry human. Not with one equally as angry standing a few feet away. Not without the promise David won’t let anything happen to him. 

He nearly bursts from terror as a finger suddenly nudges him, staring up at the tired yet fond sigh that ruffles his hair. “I’ll be right here, dumbass.” 

O-Okay.

Scott stares wide-eyed as he jumps into the air, magic blinding as his heart thumps in chest a bit too quickly. He waits patiently to be swat at, or sprinted away from, or yelled at to stay away. When none of those happen, he races forward to slam into the eldest guard’s chest, uncaring as a frightened curse sounds like thunder above him. Hands carefully cup around him as tears stream down his face, a silent laugh escaping as they jump from realization as he’s finally recognized. 

”Fritz? How, what-?"

The redhead doesn’t respond as he buries into the soft shirt. Curls against fingers gently rubbing his back. Hums happily at the quiet promises Scott has him. 

“David, what the hell?”

“I didn’t do this!”

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

#FNAF bois #g/t #giant #tiny #shrinking #I have been writing all day #and hopefully I won't be stopping anytime soon #we'll see how nice motivation is feeling #fingerscrossed #On The Fritz #tw #trigger warning #writing #BTE writing