#there's just that ONE paragraph that bugs me and no matter what I do it keeps bugging me and UGH

[ghosttalksalot]

if you know me you know i LOVE a real spidery peter. natural web production and all. ESPECIALLY when wade loves it.

starting this post off with a real quick spider lesson. you can skip to the next paragraph, but it explains the way i write peter here a bit. most spiders have what are called 'slit sense organs.' these are on their legs and bodies, and they allow them to detect what's on their web without seeing with their eyes. so they can detect the difference between prey getting caught, a leaf falling into the web, and a breeze. anyway~

peter might have some kind of an anxious habit, maybe he tries not to, its a little embarrassing. well, maybe not embarassing... but he definitely doesn't want people to know because they definitely would not get it. but after a real hard day when hes still feeling a little jumpy, he will weave a web. nothing CRAZY... just a little something over his bed and connected to the door and the close walls so he knows whats going on. its not CRAZY... its just different. there's a reason he's not open about it.

regardless, if he doesn't make it big enough to lay on that day he'll have his hand resting against it, just so he knows if anything happens in his room. he jumps a little less hearing ac turn on if he feels the breeze through the web as well, can't convince himself its something else. after all, it won't be there forever, it's just to reassure him for now. sometimes after a whole lot of people try to kill you, you want some reassurance.

so now he's getting closer with wade. he trusts him enough to have had him over, but he's not yet shared his name or face. he knows deadpool could have long since found him if he wanted to, so he figures going a little out of order doesn't matter. wade clearly intends on letting peter share as he's ready, which is a slightly unexpected but nonetheless appreciated kindness.

before patrol happened, wade told him he would bring pizza over that night. sounded great at the time, free food was always great, but with everything that happened that night he'd quickly forgotten. he's "relaxing" - he could hardly be more tense, doesn't quite seem right to call it relaxing - in his anxiously woven web, and three things go through his mind when he hears the window unlatch.

first, he's excited to get semi-unexpected pizza. second, he hopes wade didn't get mushrooms AGAIN. third, oh my god oh my fuck he's unmasked in a giant embarrassing web. that's one too many things to fix and far too little time to do so. his instincts take over and before the window is open, he leaps to his feet and pulls his mask over his face. guess deadpool gets to see him in a shirt and basketball shorts tonight, but it surely won't be the first thing he notices.

wade drops in through the window with five pizza boxes. the pizza smells amazing but peter is definitely not thinking about that. deadpool is frozen still, and for maybe the first time its almost seems that he's thinking before he speaks.

"i can... i can definitely explain this"

"webs... this is...."

"yeah, i know, it's weird, it's just been a long day, and i can-"

"i told you i was bringing pizza, what are you trying to catch bugs for?" the grin is now evident in wade's voice. peter groans.

"that's not what im doing, wade."

"really? because this is some excellent craftsmanship. if i were a bug i would definitely wander my way into this to get eaten by the big scary spider." wade plucks a strand of the webbing experimentally before semi-carefully placing down the pizza boxes and throwing his arms up in celebration. "and look! your hunt is successful! i didn't think to put bugs on the pizza but-"

"no, no. that's good. no bugs on pizza" peter's head is in his hands. "just sit down wade."

"on the web?"

"just sit."

"on the web it is!" wade plops down and peter flinches slightly at the movement in the web.

"be careful, will you? i can feel the vibrations in the web." wade slowly turns to him, wide eyes and excitement evident. peter takes the opportunity to take two of the pizza boxes. luckily, both of the ones on top just have pepperoni, and not whatever hellish combination wade asked the poor pizza man for today.

"am i allowed to ask?"

"you get two questions only. i won't answer more." wade thinks for a moment before settling on his first.

"why the web if not for bugs? because it really would be great for bugs, you drew me right in the window and im not even a-"

"so i know what comes into my room. i only do it after a bad night. next."

"...am i prey now, because im in the spider-man-web?"

"no, wade."

"will you still eat me if i ask nicely?"

"no, wade."

"HA! that was three answers." wade chuckles, proud of himself, and peter rolls his eyes under the mask.

"you're not... bothered by all this? i mean. it's a giant.... spider.. man.. web."

"nah. ...it's cool. i dig the weird spidery shit. web me up, spidey, if you catch my drift." wade waggles his eyebrows under the mask. peter groans grabs the nearest soft object to hurl it at him as wade laughs loudly.

although, peter supposes, if anyone were to find him in his...spider-man-web.... he'd rather it be wade. something about the merc's ability to never be truly shocked by his "spidery shit" came across as sincerely nonjudgemental. in that way, he felt comfortable with wade in a way he didn't with anyone else. he could relax and be himself, even the parts that were weird.

"what are you smiling for, spides?" wade puffed up his chest. "finally appreciating my excellent attempts at spider-seduction?"

"nah, it's just good pizza." peter took another bite and rolled his eyes at wade for the millionth time, this time because of his dramatic pouting. although he was sure he'd regret admitting it, he didn't mind having deadpool around. if anything, he enjoyed wade's company more than that of most people. he definitely could not admit that one. not now, at least. maybe, in the future, though. when wade can see his smile as he says it, and when wade can call him peter in his response. maybe then. for now though, he's just happy to eat pizza with him and not feel judged. this is good.

[ghost : im not happy with this one tbh... i love the idea but not the execution. ill revisit it in the future. here's this for now]

#cw spidery #super spidery description #spidery!peter parker #spideypool #currently platonic but not in the future type deal #ghosty ficlets

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

Chapter 12 Nemo dat quot non habet (No one gives what they do not have) - Benidorm part 2

Part 3 tomorrow

Taglist: @glitterypirateduck @jamesrifftapes @letsreadallday @sofasoap @mmyrrhh

Warning: Mild panic attack

Previous / Masterlist / Next

Soap found the first listening device not even five minutes after stepping inside the apartment, hidden inside the living room lamp. All three of them concluded, silently, just exchanging meaningful looks, that if that one had been so easy to find, it meant there were others better hidden.

Gabi, blissfully unaware, was joyfully planning their next steps during the afternoon and evening, but the three SAS operators were crowded around one of the kitchen’s counters, with Ghost writing on a notebook.

We’ll go turn the car in and rent another, then we’ll be back to get you and go to the new apartment. Try to find if there’s more listening bugs or cameras before you get frisky with your girlfriend, MacTavish

Soap nodded, completely serious, and grabbed the pen to scribble his own message.

How come ye write a whole fucking paragraph and then ye jus’ speak with grunts and growls?

Ghost rolled his eyes, huffing at Soap’s shit-eating grin, but it was Riot’s giggling that prevented him from answering harshly or whacking his friend over the head. Carefully, with elegant and exaggerated calligraphy, he wrote.

Fuck you

Soap gasped loudly, placing his hand over his heart as if he had been struck by lightning.

‘‘How dare ye hurt me feelings?’’ He pretended to wipe a tear off, trying hard not to allow his lips to curl upwards when Ghost just stared at him, fuming. ‘‘Thought ye liked me!’’

‘‘I said I liked you alive, but I’m about to change my opinion’’ Ghost grunted, shoving Soap’s shoulder without any force, thankful because the balaclava was hiding his wide grin. Stupid motherfucker. The only good fucking thing Shepherd had ever done was putting Soap in his life.

‘‘I’ll text you before we head back’’ Riot laughed quietly, grabbing her jacket, wallet and phone. Gabi decided in that moment to pay attention, seeing that Ghost was collecting his things too, after going into the bathroom to change his balaclava for a face mask.

‘‘Wait, where are you going?’’

‘‘To buy things for breakfast tomorrow and scout a bit for a good place for dinner’’ Riot explained calmly, writing something on Ghost’s notebook before tearing off the page and giving it to her.

We’re going to rent another car and turn this one in. The bags with the trackers will stay at this apartment, and we’ll come get you two in a couple of hours to go to another one. Have fun!

Gabi stared up at Christine’s radiant, uneven smile, speechless, before grabbing the pen and writing hurriedly.

But Johnny found a listening device here!

‘‘Have fun’’ Riot chuckled, and kissed lightly Gabi’s forehead before heading towards the door, where Ghost was already waiting for her. The redhead just blinked, watching them leave, and melted right into Soap’s arms when he hugged her from behind, resting his chin on the top of her head.

Maybe a bit of time alone wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

*

It took just under half an hour to turn in the car at the same rental chain they had used at the airport, and then rent another SUV from another company just in case. And once that was done, both Ghost and Riot turned their attention to more important matters.

Knives.

‘‘Have you found anything?’’ Simon grunted a curse under his breath at some idiot trying to overtake their SUV, forcing him to step on the brakes harder than he would have wanted.

‘‘Mhmm… yes, one shop, not far. Turn right’’ Christine nodded, checking her mobile phone. ‘‘Best thing to know where to buy these things is checking online forums of military nutters. And there are a lot of expats singing praises of this shop so we can try… oh, park there!’’

Simon nodded and started the maneouvre, while she waited just until he turned the engine off to get out of the SUV, looking around with the phone in her hand until she got her bearings. Simon locked the car and waited, until she looked up at him, covering the lower half of her face with her own mask, and then showed him the screen.

‘‘That way’’

The street wasn’t really close to the city center, but it was packed. Crowds of people moving up and down the street, stopping to check the shop windows, stopping in the middle of the pavement to chat with other people. No one really bumped into the towering masked Lieutenant, preferring to move out of his way, but, in turn, crossed her path and forced her to move, or worse, straightly pushed into her.

‘‘¡Gilipollas! (twat)’’ Christine spat furiously at the latest idiot that chose to bump into her to avoid Simon. ‘‘¡Mira por donde vas, imbécil! (Watch where you’re walking, dickhead)’’

Simon bit back a laugh at her affronted face, and moved slightly so he’d be walking in front of her. He wasn’t having a good time either. The crowd was too loud and too rowdy, and he was getting fed up of being surrounded of so many people.

‘‘It’s busier than I expected’’

‘‘In this city it’s normal, it’s always full of tourists, but I swear to God, if one more stupid wanker…’’ Her words were muffled by the noise in the street, and her blood ran cold when suddenly, there was a loud bang coming from a building nearby, in the process of being renovated.

Without thinking, her hands shot forward and grabbed his arm, her fingers digging into the hard muscle beneath hard enough to make Simon stop and look down at her, concerned.

‘‘Lovie’’

Rubble, rubble everywhere, falling on me, falling on my team, impending impact, impending impact…

A warm, big palm cupped her jaw over her mask and tilted her face upwards, until her eyes met Simon’s dark brown ones, looking down at her.

‘‘You’re safe. You’re safe, lovie’’ His voice, the same scorching, low rumble that always grounded her, that helped in Belarus, that helped her in the solitude of her room or her shower when she needed something to calm her down. ‘‘You’re with me’’

Swallowing through the knot in her throat, she nodded, feeling the sting of the dust in her eyes. Or maybe it wasn’t dust at all.

‘‘I’m sorry, it’s… it’s pathetic, I’m…’’

‘‘I still have them, sometimes’’ He commented, completely calm. Both of them were still, in the middle of the pavement, ignoring the huffs and puffs of the people forced to go around them. Her hands were still gripping his arm, and he was still cupping her face, to prevent her from looking away.

‘‘You? But you’re always so…’’ She bit her lips underneath the mask, not knowing how to continue. He always looked so calm. So collected. Stern, reliable, disciplined, methodical. It was difficult to imagine the imponent Ghost as a crumbling mess like she felt.

‘‘Took a long time to get there’’ Simon shrugged lightly, and suddenly, somehow, he seemed closer, his massive body bending down to get closer to her, or maybe she was just standing on her tip toes again, or maybe it was both.

Their foreheads touched, and Christine couldn’t help but close her eyes and sigh, relaxing into the feeling of his warm skin and the soothing sound of his breathing.

‘‘You’ll get there too’’ He added, very low, feeling tempted, oh so temped, but with the firm self-discipline with which he managed his life, he restrained himself. It wouldn't be appropriate. Not there, in the middle of a busy street, when she was in the middle of a panic attack ‘‘You’re not pathetic. You’re human. I’d be worried otherwise’’

Christine just nodded, the pale, cold skin of her forehead dragging against his, feeling the hardened skin of a couple of his scars. God, if only…

‘‘I don’t know what I would do without you’’ She froze right after the words left her lips, with her eyes still closed, but she felt how his breathing hitched for a second. And then, the low rumble of his laugh and a calloused thumb brushing over her cheekbone.

‘‘I’m not going anywhere, lovie’’ Bloody fucking hell, how could he. How could he, after this. ‘‘Because I don’t fucking know what I would do without you either’’

Christine chuckled softly, opening her eyes again as Simon straightened up and let his hand fall from her face.

‘‘Knives?’’ She whispered, without releasing his arm. He didn’t seem to care, and both started to walk towards the shop.

‘‘Knives’’

#simon ghost riley x christine riot vega #christine riot vega #riot vega #ghost x riot #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod oc #call of duty modern warfare #cod original character #call of duty original character #cod fanfic #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfiction #cod fic #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty fic #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #gabriella gabi cruz #simon ghost riley #cod soap #cod ghost #cod riot #call of duty oc #ghost x female oc #simon riley x oc

[haleigh-sloth]

I was wondering if you could help me understand this writing decision in the new chapter. I sent this message to a My Hero discord and was wondering if you had anything to say about it.

So, I’ve put my thoughts to the page a little and I think I’ve figured out why this turn on Tenko’s backstory bothers me so much. It’s because it’s twofold…it makes him into too perfect of a victim and also washes society’s hands of the blood it has on them for not paying attention to him when he was wandering the street. I’ll address each of these in its own paragraph.

First, most abuse victims are not “perfect victims.” They often have unhealthy coping mechanisms that are wrong and unhealthy in themselves, and they do bear partial responsibility for that. It’s harder to relate to Tenko’s struggles with self hatred when they’re completely divorced from reality - he only exists because AFO wants him to exist and only destroys because AFO wants him to destroy at this point. He also doesn’t have to wrestle with those feelings in himself to overcome them. I just don’t think a situation where a victim has no unhealthy coping mechanisms they chose for themselves is realistic to how this issue often plays out irl.

Secondly, Tenko only existing because AFO wanted him to exist absolves society of their sin of ignoring Tenko as he wandered the streets. These leaks make it sound like AFO would have groomed him regardless of whether someone reached out a helping hand, meaning it was of no consequence whether someone helped him or not. This makes every problem in Tenko’s world AFO’s fault, instead of AFO being a trigger pressed on a loaded gun (that loaded gun being the idolization of heroes and treating them as superhuman as a guise for complacency).

I’d appreciate if someone could help me make sense of this writing decision because I’m struggling to understand why it’s here.

I really want to accept this direction for Tenko’s arc, and truth be told I do see some upsides to this development, but I’m having a hard time getting past the perfect victim* + the absolution of hero society.

*To further expand on this point, I also think that Tenko’s turn being inevitable causes people’s worldviews to be challenged less. Both the audience and the characters in series are meant to be challenged by the idea of Tenko being both a perpetrator and a victim, rather than just one or the other. AFO being involved in his life literally since conception pushes him so far into the “victim” category that people don’t have to wrestle with the concept of his salvation and humanity anymore. I see this as only a negative but I’d like to know what you think.

Also sorry for bugging you so much with asks lately, i can be really annoying

I don’t think Tenko is anywhere near what could be described as a “perfect victim”. He takes his anger out on the space around him and damn near everyone in it. He’s killed a lot of people who had absolutely nothing to do with his misery and suffering. He’s targeted Izuku and Bakugo (for like, very distorted reasons) but they had nothing to do with his life sucking so bad.

He is far from perfect. If there is one in MHA (doesn’t rly exist tho) it’s Eri, I guess.

It seems like what you’re thrown by is AFO being implicated even further. But this really changes nothing. AFO didn’t make people ignore Tenko on the street. And society’s flaws are emphasized in more than one place.

Tenko learning the truth doesn’t take away the sting of being ignored on the street. It just makes the death of his family way worse because it wasn’t just a freak accident, it was forced upon him. It just turned into something that was done to him. It’s horrific, no matter how involved AFO was from the get go. Everyone who was responsible for their part in his pain, still is. Nothing really changes.

Tenko was always helpless from the start. And he still is, he always has been, he never stood a chance. That doesn’t change with this new revelation.

He’s not a victim that has 0 reasons to feel conflicted about (although, I don’t lol). He’s done a lot of damage to other people. He’s perpetrated the cycle of violence, very much actively participated in it. It is obviously from a place of pain and revenge and hopelessness, but still people who weren’t involved ended up being involved whether they asked to be or not. Not that we’re supposed to care about off-screened people, but that’s what makes him an antagonist, after all. He’s not a black and white antagonist. If you’re feeling less conflicted about him being saved, then Horikoshi’s writing accomplished its goal. You’re supposed to want him saved by this point because that’s how the protagonist feels, and the writing tells you it’s the right thing to do and the right direction for the story.

I don’t think anything about Tenko’s victim status changes. Everyone’s responsibility is still the same. It’s all the same, just AFO sucking more and more.

#bnha asks #bnha 419 #bnha spoilers

[loving-n0t-heyting]

Here's a question that I think you might be uniquely well-positioned among those I know to answer: from the purview of philosophy, what do you think of the general focus within mathematics on first-order logic?

The context for this is as follows: my mathematical logic class in undergrad was taught by a model theorist, and thus had a generally model theoretic flair. Once we established the basics of propositional logic, FOL, deductive systems and so on, we spent the rest of the class focusing on the model theory of FOL, IIRC mostly stuff of relevance to algebra rather than things of relevance to philosophy or foundations of math or so on.

I remember remarking to a friend who was taking that class with me "this is not really what I thought logic would be like!" or something like that, and he said to me the following (paraphrased), which really stuck with me: "I feel like FOL, whatever it is, can't really be the foundation of math or of reasoning in any meaningful sense. Rather, it feels like what we're doing in this class is constructing an elaborate Rube Goldberg machine that behaves like the 'true' foundational logic of math, whatever that is, in important ways. It's very messy and unnatural, but it's useful because we've constructed it in a way that allows us to study it, and which lets us gain insight about axioms and provability and so on". And I remember thinking, yeah, that's totally on the money.

The word "foundation" in the above paragraph is used in a nontechnical sense; of course FOL can't literally be a foundational theory, because it is not in itself a theory. But it's the logic that most attempts at foundations are articulated in, etc.

Everything I've thought about logic since then has mostly served to confirm what my friend said to me. For instance, I remember reading a MathOverflow post a long time ago discussing why mathematicians so often use FOL, and the general consensus answer seemed to be "the model theory of FOL is much nicer than the model theory of higher-order logics". This lines up closely with what my friend said, and also the general vibe I got from taking that class (which was that the model theory of FOL is certainly very nice).

FOL, like most logical systems used in mathematics, is also built on a formal language made of strings of symbols. The syntax of FOL (although this is by no means unique to FOL) looks awfully inspired by the syntax of the Western European languages its creators spoke. I have to imagine that a system of formal logic designed in Japan or by the Incas or some such would be shaped completely differently. Now, I also think that this doesn't matter very much—it's easy to construct a "head-final" version of FOL, which I imagine Japanese mathematicians would probably have done, and show that it's perfectly equivalent to the FOL we have. And you can rebuild FOL on a language of abstract trees instead of strings of symbols if you so desire, and you don't have to give the symbols any order at all, and it's perfectly equivalent.

So this historical contingency in the syntax of FOL doesn't matter mathematically, but I've always found it philosophically bothersome. First on the principled grounds that math and science should be made as culturally neutral as possible. But also on the grounds that in some sense it is one more fact that confirms what my friend said to me: the whole construction of FOL, with sets of strings, terms and formulas and free variables, etc. etc., is further revealed to be a kind of historically contingent Rube Goldberg contraption. It bugs me, for better or worse (and maybe it's just inescapable) that we study logic by way of such a contraption!

The final fact that make me something of a FOL-disliker (I admit my bias now, deep into the message) is learning that the second-order Peano Axioms are categorical—they have a unique model—and this model has a large number of nice properties, like being the free object on one generator in a certain category and so on and so forth. But first-order Peano Arithmetic is not categorical, there are non-standard models of PA which do not accord with our intuitions about N. This makes me feel really uneasy about FOL: if the natural numbers, the most fundamental object in all of math, can't even be appropriately captured by FOL, why are we using it?

And the answer again seems to be half practical, half historical: 1) the model theory is very nice, so FOL is easy to work in, and 2) FOL is old and people have been using it for a long time, and it has reached consensus status as the default system in which to do mathematical logic things, unless you have some good reason to use a different system.

And honestly, I don't think those are bad reasons at all. But they are very practical reasons, down to earth and divorced from the lofty philosophical goal of Understanding The True Nature Of Reasoning.

But my knowledge on this is really entirely on the math side. I have not actually read any of the philosophy around this, and you seem pretty familiar with it. What do the philosophers think about FOL? Do they like it? Are they bothered by its historical contingency? I imagine that philosophers might be less concerned with the practical and mathematical matters that lead people to use FOL. In light of that, are their views different?

Obviously I know philosophy is huge and diverse, I just feel like you might have an interesting perspective on this.

Anyway, uh, yeah. Sorry if this is ridiculously long. No pressure to answer this if you don't feel like it.

so ill say to begin that you are right that the centrality of first-order theories in mathematical foundations is as much as anything an accident of history and a matter of pragmatics as much as deep truths about the nature of logic and reason. at the advent of modern logic, frege was not wedded in this way to 1st order languages in foundations, and his exposition of his begriffschrift remains a classic in the study of the meaningfulness of higher order languages. first order theories came to prominence as the foundational crisis unfolded in large part bc they were the first to receive a rigorous metalogic, and much exciting work in contemporary mathematics has looked to type theoretic alternatives, as in the "univalent foundations" programme. there was no deep inner necessity reflected in this historical progression

that said, i think at least some of the complaints you are making dont really stand up to scrutiny. to begin, i think the qualms about eurocentrism are smth of a red herring: not only is it simply untrue that those responsible in the period of the foundational crisis for our contemporary understanding of the fundamentals of mathematical logic were overwhelmingly native speakers of "western european" languages (this ignores the many vital contributions of polish logicians at the time), like you say the level at which that would have any significance is purely notational. if mathematicians interested in foundations have a "canonical" "official" logical notation it woulkd be łukasiewicz (or "polish") notation, which in syntax resembles no extant human natural language but is useful for certain bookkeeping purposes. i dont think anyone treats the sort of PM-like infix notation you presumably have in mind with anything like the reverence that would give you any reason to worry

second, i think you are much more impressed than you should be by the "categoricity" of 2nd order PA. the models for classical first order theories have a special significance precisely bc of the model theoretic results you are alluding to: 1st and foremost, focl is sound and complete with respect to that class of models, which directly links model existence results to consistency results. its not as tho there are these very independently interesting mathematical objects called "models of classical fol", about which we then were lucky enough to learn the additional fact that they are complete wrt focl. we care about this class bc we care about the logic to which these results connect it. things are otherwise wrt the class of models you have in mind for 2nd order languages: there are no such completeness results to be had, making their connection to and significance for sol much weaker than those with first order models and first order logic. you could, if you wanted, cook up some definition of a "model" for fol on which the peano axioms would fix some unique such "model", but this gives us no particular reason to find this pseudo-categoricity very interesting. it would be as much as anything an artefact of yr definitions. now this is not to suggest that the full models of classical second order logic are a wholly artificial construction of no intrinsic interest, that is going too far, but counting it as a "virtue" of 2nd order PA over 1st order PA that the former unlike the latter is "categorical" is to some degree a fallacy of equivocation: the existence of such a model does not mean the same thing as the existence of a unique such fom, in particular bc the latter would require as the former does not the syntactic completeness of the relevant theory

on that note: it is misleading to describe the failure of first order peanpo arithmetic to pin down a unique model as a defect of fol or 1st order PA. the reason for the existence of nonstandard models is the profound matter of the incompleteness results, which hold for any (humanly articulable) axiomatic theory of the natural numbers of sufficient strength, 1st order 2nd order ith order no order. and ofc, for classes of models (like the appropriately defined general/henkin models) of 2nd order logic for which soundness and completeness results are forthcoming, second order PA accordingly admits of nonstandard models itself. if theres a perversion anywhere in the existence of nonstandard models, its in the nature of arithmetic itself, not in first order logic with its standard model theory specifically

more generally, im not entirely clear what you mean by finding fol wanting as "the 'true' foundational logic of math, whatever that is"? dym you dont think its whats going on deep in the thoughts of the working mathematician? no doubt, tho idt anyone serious has ever claimed as much. that it is not, relatedly, a perspicuous presentation of the underlying Architecture of Reason, if there is such a thing? that certainly is implausible, and ig a lot of undergrad profs start out classes with bold pronouncements of that sort, but i think these are best understood as a combination of a hook to entice students to keep up their attendance in pursuit of deep wisdom and a self-directed pep talk for the instructor to motivate another semester spent on one of the drier topics of theirs on which to educate college sophomores. but perhaps im missing yr real meaning

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

anyway tho you asked about the place of fol in philosophy, which ig ive been avoiding. and again yr right, theres a really considerable breadth of literature on this topic, which i can only really gesture at here and of which my knowledge is only partial. but in broad and highly selective strokes:

at the inception of what would come to be called "analytic philosophy", the vienna positivists (following the lead of their colleagues working in mathematical foundations, and of ludwig wittgenstein, who in the tractatus which exercised such foundational influence upon the circle accorded the classical first order predicate calculus a kind of mystical, quasi-religious significance) by and large took up a very enthusiastic attitude towards first order theories. this was ofc a departure from their august forebear, frege, whose high order outlook i have already commented on. much of this enthusiasm also lacked the model theoretic flavour that would dominate among many of their successors, likely in no small part bc the relevant lines of mathematical inquiry had yet to fully percolate. this would eventually shift among philosophers of science in the tradition, as syntactic approaches to the most current physical theories began to prove less tractable than model theoretic alternatives

this privileged position for first order theories was, alas, to be inherited by the great american bete noir of the logical positivists, quine, who more than anyone else in the anglophone philosophical community contributed to the discredit of the movement and served to more generally set the agenda for midcentury analytic philosophy. quine seems to have taken there to be smth more "scientific" about such first order approaches to various domains, and in this he was followed by many in his so largely regrettable wake; one can see this prejudice on display, as a particularly vivid and historically significant example, in the prefatory comments in david lewis' "counterpart theory and quantified modal logic". second order logic in particular was the subject of some influential potshots of quines, to the effect that second order quantification over properties was nothing more than a needlessly roundabout facon de parler for (fundamentally 1st order) quantification over a particular sort of object, viz. sets. and smths that should not have been forgotten were lost

what is perhaps most shocking, even during the reemergence (much to quines chagrin) of modal thinking among analytic philosophers, this sea change was carried out largely under the auspices of an austerely first-order worldview. i have already mentioned lewis' deference in his writings on modality to the quinean appetite for first orderism, and lewis was second in the revival of modal thought only to kripke, whose principal contribution was precisely a means of reducing many modal logics to first-order extensional theories. Even as suspicion of modal operators as primitive has dissipated, the view of first order quantification as somehow more perspicuous and aboveboard has largely lingered

even in the midcentury, however, there were still philosophers of a logical bent disinclined to this privileging of first order quantification. arthur prior is my prime example, and his openness to theorising in overtly and non-reductionistically higher order terms has had significant influence on the renaissance in the past decade to such higher order treatment of various philosophical topics and problems. leading the way has been timothy williamson at oxford, and many of his students, who have tried to present such framings as intelligible and philosophically illuminating in their own right. this is a nice example. this is a project to which i am very sympathetic

#ask #max1461

[fluxedbuds]

apparently y'all Are desperate enough for my Lomadia Oc so uh. hope you're in the mood for [checks notes] ~13 paragraphs, half of which is just description!

allow me to introduce Villom!

She doesn't have an actual name or in-universe nickname, I just call her Villom. Because she was originally a Villain Version of Lomadia from a sci-fi world for some comic idea I totally scrapped bc it sucked. Except for Villom!

So basically what if we put Lomadia in space and gave her every problem and no normal coping mechanisms

The base universe is Completely Impossible sci-fi space stuff, involving solar systems being relatively close together and having tons of habitable planets, with star trek 'convergent evolution' making everybody a Weird Human Basically. Part of these choices is that I. Don't actually like sci-fi lol. I don't think its bad I just can't Get Into It, so I did the lazy version. HOWEVER I do also use the fact that its extremely artificial and story-focused as part of the plot so its FINE There IS also magic, but it’s generally less used, as tech is more accessible and less complicated from a user standpoint. That doesn’t mean it isn’t powerful, if you know what to look for. Thats foreshadowing!

Compared to base Lomadia, Villom is.. very immature. She has trouble identifying and controlling emotions, she's quick to anger and holds grudges. She's also more impulsive and tends towards insults and crude jokes. She's actually pretty fun to hang out with as a result, but responsibility is a role she's crushed into, and it never truly fits. She's trying her best ok

Villom starts out her story as a young adult, training to be a pilot. She does some hero shit, but breaks so many rules in the process and gets kicked out. She’s enraged by this betrayal of what was supposed to be her life, and steals a ship to go rogue and try to pursue her dreams anyways. She doesn’t exactly know what she’s doing, though, and eventually a chase causes her to crash on an unfamiliar planet, where she meets Rythian. He’s steampunk now, don’t question it

Anyways, they end up teaming up, and form the first of her crew. Later additions are Martyn, who is a mouse guy who has So Fucking Many People Who Want Him Dead, and Zoeya! Who ended up separated from Fionn following partially the plot of Mushbury, and works as the ship’s engineer. Their ship (that lasts long enough to get a name…) is called the Ask, and Villom occasionally (and jokingly) calls her crew the Answers. (Its called the Ask because originally I gave the characters nicknames based on Norse mythology for Pretentious Reasons, those might come back later)

So everything’s all fine and poggers for a while, with the Ask’s crew causing mischief and undercutting evil empires across the worlds- and then Villom’s home planet is destroyed. And she sees it happen.

See, one of the tropes of sci-fi that bugs me, is how understated the death of an entire planet tends to go. This is the first step of Villom realizing how truly fucked up the world they live in is- and the first step of her wondering why it has to be this way, and how to stop it.

It only gets worse from here.

No matter how many evil empires they topple, no matter how many massive threats they thwart, there’s always another one. And no matter how fast they are, they can’t stop every world-ending crisis. Villom starts learning magic, wondering if theres some kind of solution there. When she doesn’t find one, she just looks harder. Brushing so close with forces she’s alone in experiencing wears on her, compounding with their futile mission.

The breaking point is when Rythian dies. Raiding an enemy ship goes wrong, they’re outnumbered, they’re trying to retreat. Surrenders are not accepted, there.

It’s another thing she sees happen, another thing she was inches away from but unable to stop. And she can’t take it. She can’t take losing another part of her, another of the few things she could call home in this cold void.

She takes some of the things she learned looking where she shouldn’t- and kills the nearest member of the enemy team, trading a life for a life. And part of her soul as tax, of course. Just a small bit, this time. She never tells him. Pretends it was instead an incredibly close call. He probably knows she’s lying, on some level, but he never says it.

Villom is desperate, now. There’s more and more things she’s hiding from her crew, more and more boundaries of safety she’s pushing. She trades one of her eyes for the ability to see the functions of the world itself- maybe it’s a mistake, there’s some gear stuck, and if she fixes it this infinite loop of wars will stop.

There is no mistake. This is how the universe is intended to function.

She can’t give up. Because if she stops, she’s never going to get up again.

Maybe there’s other worlds where it’s better, where it’s safe. Maybe there’s a way to make this world like them.

Maybe there’s a way to leave.

She’s barely human anymore, even though she looks perfectly fine. Her hair is white, her eye replaced, but that’s all. She’s replaced the things she’s traded away. She’s barely even a part of the world, anymore. Unstuck from the threads of it, floating as a constant point, unchanging and undying, snapping back into place when moved.

A lot of universes are visited by a strange woman with white hair, who never stays. Sometimes she’s a savior, or a tyrant, or merely another passerby.

One of them, somewhere, has to have an answer. The way to break the cycle. And Villom will find it- even if she has to take every one of them apart.

#long post #villom #published works #<-organizational tag this isn't like. in a book #if you actually read all of this i love you. and hopefully you now get why im obsessed with her #my cringefail girlboss <3 inventing new war crimes #if you follow the suggestions blogs you may have already seen her!

[raccoonspooky]

I got a wonderful commission to write Bubba going ham over some tig ol biddies in a dead by daylight setting, so I sure did write the FUCK out of that. This is just a ton of fun. Big boy gets feelings so very quickly. Listen. The first time you're given free reign over a nice pair of tits, you're gonna lose ur fkn mind ok.

(Rated E. 9k words. x Fem reader. DBD setting. Mild mommy kink. Sub!Bubba. Porn with feelings. Bubba POV. y/n device is not used in this fic.)

First few paragraphs and other links under the cut!

It’s not often that the cannibal thinks of home. The Entity doesn’t spoil him with free reign of his memories and it tells him it is a good thing. Spare the rod, spoil the child. The sentiment rings in his thoughts and it speaks in his grandma’s voice, giving him a little taste of something he once loved so very much. In the fog, he does not dwell on hurt. If his master does not want him to remember the bloody end of things that brought him here and the heartbreak and fear that he used to carry with him, then he’s glad for it. The Entity rewards him for his understanding. He’s a good boy, a smart boy and so willing to submit. The Entity’s talons are entwined with his very soul and it feels like love. Feels like family.

Little whispers tell him that he’s meant to be here and he’s welcome to all the spoils his heart desires if he serves his purpose. The saw is the only family he has left and the Entity is kind in never keeping it far from his person. He is a tool to the all-knowing, something much much larger than Texas and he is happy to follow its commands.

He sleeps, dreaming of all the wonderful things the Entity spoils him with and he’s a glutton for the sense of warmth and sunshine. It doesn’t matter if it's fabricated. He loves it nonetheless. There’s fresh laundry on the line, shirts billow in the breeze—, Grandpa’s withered hands feebly shake as he deals out another round of cribbage. Mama’s still alive, she’s workin’ on her stitching in a rocking chair that has floorboards creaking with her movement. His brothers are at the table and no one’s bickering. He has no bruises, no one snaps at him for gurgling out his happiness and the kitchen smells like apple pie. Bubba would do anything for more of this, he’d do anything to stay right here forever— but he can already feel the pull of the Entity’s call.

It’s a gentle thing. It tells him to wake up and put on his tie. There’s work to do and it needs him to put on a brave face. He is a killer. He is a weapon and it needs him to slaughter the little bugs that have weeviled into its endless fields of fog. Rot starts small. One maggot becomes many in just a few hours. Fresh meat starts to turn the moment it’s left to sit. It's a big place in this world beyond and he’s so glad to be given such an important job.

Soon, he comes back into contact with his body and his fingers tighten around the handle of his saw with purpose. The world around him feels like a soft quilted blanket that’s pulled up to his ears, he’s safe here. Loved even. The Entity loves him and he loves it too. It saved him from the bad people who woulda killed him, who killed his brothers and left his home in ruin. Go on now, it whispers, using a voice that makes the hair on his arms stand on end. Its tone has him feeling small. Show ‘em what you’re made of. Don’t disappoint me.

He knows what realm he steps into before it stitches itself together, the air turns crisp but it’s dead in his lungs. A metal gate creaks on its hinge and dry corn stalks whisper to each other, sharing secrets in the distance. He’s in a barn and the remnants of the fog tickle his ankles as if asking him if he understands its joke. He doesn’t understand, but the licking sensation has him giggling nonetheless. This place is one of his favorites, it reminds him of home. The air’s colder though and the farmhouse that looms across the cornfield is not at all like his.

At the edge of all this, there's a sense of hunger that has his tongue anxiously rubbing against the roof of his mouth. There’s movement all around him, cold breeze sneaks through his clothes. The Entity leads him like a shepherd, pointing him in the direction of where to go and its guidance is almost chastising. He should know this by now, he should know what it needs of him. Something implores him to pivot on his heel and his anticipation is met with a metallic BANG that cuts through the realm’s relative quiet.

In an instant, hesitant trepidation cuts to rage. The Entity is hungry, it’s always hungry. It’s the Cannibal’s job to provide all that it asks for. What good is he otherwise? He charges toward the noise while tasting iron at the back of his throat, he can smell the trespassers on the wind. With his weapon raised above his head, he turns a corner to meet two strangers. His saw barks and snarls like a hungry dog. He’s snarling too. Violent, animal noises strangle out from his throat in greeting toward a man with a funny haircut and a pretty girl who scream in startled terror. The generator they were working on sputters black smoke that assaults Bubba’s nostrils and he grunts in displeasure. He’s not a fan of the smell and it adds to the sense of violence that urges him into attacking.

Keep reading on Ao3

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Ko-fi & Commission info

#TCM Leatherface #bubba sawyer #x reader #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher x reader #dbd fanfiction #dead by daylight #dbd #dbd bubba #dbd cannibal #leatherface #texas chainsaw massacre #poki writing

[mbbsgf]

MIGHT BE TRIGGERING FOR SOME !

okay, so this is a way more detailed version of the paragraph i just wrote (i'm probably gonna get emotional, i apologize in advance). 2023 was one tough year itself. i don't think i'll mention some of the things that happened because it's too personal bug i'll "try my best" i guess. i hate how life treated me this year. i'm so for real, it has been so mean to me. it just kept punching me in my weak spots. and it punched hard. really hard. i honestly don't know how i survived 2023, i guess i stayed strong for my future even though it gives me bad anxiety. i didn't wanna be a "failed teenager", i didn't wanna see my mom cry, i didn't wanna give up. well, i did but i decided not to. it's pointless to give up. you're in pain so you think ending your life will help but it doesn't. your pain is just temporary. you have your whole life ahead of you. it gets better. i know it's easy to say but i used to not believe it either but i'm getting better. i've been in this insufferable pain since 2021 and trust me, it wasn't easy at all and it wasn't easy at all to get better either but it took me 2 years to start getting better. you just have to wait, i promise you gets better. trust the process, stay healthy and hydrated and everything will be fine. you guys text me if you need to talk or anything else. i promise you i'll always be here. you're never alone. ever. there's always people that care and will listen to what we you have to say. i care and will listen to you. don't ever invalidate your feelings, babies. ever, it's such a disgusting thing to do to yourself. you deserve to share your feelings with someone trusted, if not me then one of your friends. just talk to someone if you ever feel like you're not okay. you should suffer in silence just because you think you're gonna annoy the person you're talking to or because you think it doesn't matter. it does matter. you matter. don't ever forget that you are loved and cared for. you deserve to speak up and to tell your stories. mental health isn't something that should be joked about. if you aren't okay, reach out for help but please don't joke it out or anything. i used (and still do tbh) to joke about my traumas as a coping mechanism. it's stupid, yes. i'm aware but i genuinely don't know how to communicate. i'm working on it but it's hard as someone who barely opens up. well, looks like this turned out to be more of a mental health late session talk, i really hope you guys are okay and if you're not that you'll reach out for help. you know, i'm only a dm away. i'll always answer except if i'm sleeping but tumblr is the first app i open in the morning so i will see your messages if you send some. you can dm me or even do anons to share your stories with other people and me. it can be anonymous or not. it depends on you. anyway, it's starting to get late. i hope i helped even if it's just a little bit. i love you guys so much and you matter. 🩷

-marie

#marie speaks #mental health #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #millie bobby brown

[crowleys-right-eyeball]

“And the universe said I love you

because you are love.”

below the cut i have so much to say and some extra silly things to share. feel free to scroll past the paragraph if you aren’t interested, but tl;dr is that me and my story support you clown <3

WOW i love the end poem,,,,, couldn’t resist using it, i feel like it’s the right ocassion BUT here’s my amazing notes app script

- i write this for clown, for myself, and for anyone curious enough to read. i feel like i should probably have a little more of a sense for what should and shouldn’t go on my main account, but i consider this to be a very rare meaningful thought of mine. i guess i’m not one to talk much about my own creative projects for reasons, but i do want to share my own experiences.

- i will never forget what she did to my sweet wisteria and everything i made. i’ve had him for as long as i can remember, and he’s always been a part of me. but i shared him with the wrong person and it costed me the love i had for a story once so dear to me. i held him so close, and i’ve held him even closer ever since she said all the things she’d do to him. it’s a miracle i ever got back into writing for my wisteria, because at the time all i wanted was to get rid of him and everything he meant to me. and i’m only one person, she was only one person, and i cannot imagine what it must feel like to see as many people as you have do the same to your world.

- i do feel sort of selfish thinking you would read this or that i sort of made it about me, but i just want you to know that the majority of us will support you no matter what. i am only one of literally thousands of people that saw your work through youtube or tiktok or whatever, so i suppose this is more of a log of what you got me thinking about. your work and what i’ve seen from your tumblr genuinely inspires me, and i don’t mean it in a sappy way, i mean that i have literally thought long and hard about your work when working on my portfolio as it captures a lot of what i’m doing with my own.

- whatever you choose to make private, if anything, know that you have made such a huge and wonderful impact on so many people. my heart aches for what you have been going through as a consequence for this, but there’s always going to be a bright side, right?

- i’ll end with some silly doodles of my guys and the wh guys and another quote from one of my interests to brighten the mood!! we love you, clown <3

about to make this post longer than the steddie ficlets i have saved 🔥🔥

tumblr is actually so bugged rn so i can’t add image commentary in the tags BUT i’ll try to edit it later 🔥🔥🔥 okay now i’m a sappy sucker here’s another FAVORITE quote and we’ll play guess what niche interest it is

“With you, I am ready to face whatever awaits.”

*bows* thank you for coming

- 🧣💫

#tumblr is actually so bugged if the images don’t work i’ll be very sad #BUT!!! here is a silly wally and my message for clown #i daydreamed the hell out of this post #i felt like the end poem was fitting for this #also frank and wisteria are BEST FRIENDS #they’re both edgy #they’re both gay #they both LOVE butterflies #it was meant 2 be #holding them so close to me #OKAY I’LL STOP TALKING #welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home puppet show #welcome home wally #welcome home wally darling #wally darling #my art

[animentality]

People warned me that act 3 of baldur's gate 3 wasn't great...and I honestly...agree.

It's so many...really boring side quests.

Like act 1 felt like it was really exercising your roleplaying. You have decisions to make and a pressing plot concern, which is the parasite in your brain. You're getting to know your fellow adventurers and learning a lot about them and yourself, depending on what race or class or origin you picked. It's also well paced and you can really explore the world and the wilderness, getting into shenanigans and adventures that are plot related and less plot related.

Act 2, while dreary visually, is still fun because you're part of this big epic mysterious plot and you're learning a lot about the villains. Ketheric and all the thorms are all very distinct and have fun designs too.

Plus you don't even have to fight most of them, you can convince them to kill themselves, which is really fun. You can also be a great hero or a great villain, depending on whether or not you kill isobel.

It's also epic in scale. You're fighting in this great war and assaulting moonrise and then entering the oubliette, which is a very fun dark zone.

But act 3?

You have all the information...and then the story grinds to a halt as you do random side quests like investigating murders.

Which you know are literally all Orin.

There are a shit ton of buildings and places to go, but they're scattered.

They don't share anything thematically.

Like oh here's a dumb house with nothing in it except some useless garbage you can steal, but someone will definitely yell at you for doing it....ok???

And there are way too many buildings like this, with nothing of interest in them at all.

And some of the areas are just so unbearable.

One of the worst places is this mansion owned by Lady Jannath or whatever?

Just completely miserable fighting these sturdy skulls and poltergeists on every floor, who bug the fuck out and stop attacking.

It's kind of like you're wandering through the city, just hoping something attacks you so you can get the plot moving again.

Because otherwise, you could go anywhere and do anything, and it doesn't matter.

And that kind of sucks because bg3's greatest strength is the roleplaying decisions you get to make.

But in act 3, your rp barely matters. There's not much you can do to move your character forward or the plot.

You kill orin and gortash, do some character related quests, and then it's over.

So I get people who say that act 3 is anticlimactic. It is.

It's a series of side quests that aren't even fun.

The only ones that I'm actually interested in are stealing the orphic hammer from Raphael and killing cazador.

Otherwise, I've just been forcing myself to go do sidequest 3.4, paragraph 5, as is my contractual obligation.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 spoilers

[croakings]

breaking my loz silence to be a hater but also, here's how totk can still win

i will preface this with the thesis but also bear with me, ok, so: let it be known that in most circumstances, like most people probably, i hate when stories go "And It Was All A Dream!!!"

however. under some certain conditions. it is So Tasty. and i think totk is like. i'm sorry i think this is the only thing that can redeem the story of that game even somewhat. to me. this is all obviously just going to be my own personal opinion if you liked totk you are valid etc and so on and so forth but this is probably not the post for you

a minor point i want to start off with is that we were promised majora's mask vibes and they did not (imo)(this will be the last qualifier/clarification as far as that goes just stick "imo" everywhere in your brain for me please. thanks) deliver on that so much...... UNLESS MY UPCOMING TINFOIL HAT/COPING "THEORY" APPLIES! (there is absolutely no evidence or support for any of this whatsoever.)

i know people have come up with theories and Themes Analyses as to why the totk ending is good and makes sense and i did like a lot of those, and those people are very smart, however what they do not take into account is that i do not like it. if there's one thing i hate more than It Was Never Real In The First Place, it's And Actually None Of That Mattered That Much At All!..........

unless! It Was Never Real In The First Place!!!!!!!!! (<- IWNRITFP)

SO many of my personal gripes with totk are solved by making "the primary impact of these events is just like. emotional there aren't a lot of other consequences if any" follow the caveat of Because IWNRITFP!!!

"but bug" you might say, "what the fuck are you talking about". that's fair despite all those paragraphs i've said very little. i understand.

i am team "pissed off about the arm". team "ZONAI??????? AAAAAAAGGHHHH". team "AND WHY DOES IT ALL DISAPPEAR IN THE END ANYWAY COME O—". team hater. if you will. zelda doesn't even get to have any dragon features stick around like come. ON. ok anyway

also. we have the Monarchy Good Let's Keep Doing That Actually. despite. gestures at all of botw and the info we get of link and zelda post-botw pre-totk. where they're like. really not so much doing the monarchy. is the thing. and that seems really great for them in fact. and this seems really kind of silly outside of it really being needed to continue The Cycle. of loz games. and in loz games. which is that there is a princess and link punches things. and monarchies are a little necessary for point one. there.

but also some of you know me. you know what my favorite activity is. it's Making Up Lore To Explain Mechanics/Whatever i know this is not mechanics it's like. Video Game more broadly. franchise continuity. and that too. put that after the slash idk how to phrase that. so here's the thing.

they go down to the castle murder basement. right. gloom is there. it's spooky. things Go Wrong. tale as old as time.

this is a reach but cope with me. bear with me. what if. the murder basement. is the last real thing that actually happens. (until the ganon fight)(i think)(disclaimer: i have played only like 35 hrs of totk and the greater portion of that was mapping out the depths. so please understand i hate this game and this essay is based on information i gathered trying not to be doomed to hate this game/attempting to gain motivation to like. actually play it.)(if you notice i barely succeeded. if at all. rip)(one of the first things i did was collect the dragon tear memories and that INSTANTLY made me tap out. iykyk y'know.)

I KNOW. BUT. HEAR ME OUT.

here's the story of totk: link and zelda go down to the catacombs. neither of them come out. like. link does. sort of. i guess. if you ask some people. but like. nothing he does seems to matter or affect people. or. most things. with a few direct Plot Related exceptions. no one recognizes him the famous Savior Of Hyrule (the sword one)(not the princess the other one) who has spent literal multiple years scurrying around speaking to without hyperbole every single person in the country probably multiple times in insane circumstances pretty much every time. everyone is just Have You Heard The Legend Of Press Down B To Slash Fancy AND I SOLVE THIS TOO. with Game Theory.

WHAT IF. what if. ganon's last hurrah. ganon who like. constantly loses. and is repeatedly killed by teenagers at best and children not infrequently. is to see these guys who pretty well won. because they lost. who have a pretty good chance of doing things differently. where he can't. and/or won't. who can set hyrule in a different direction, if they're allowed to continue on. and not let them continue on. "lol they're traumatized young adults," he might say, "i am The Scourge Of Millennia and HERE. is how i can still win." (<- loses)(inevitably)(of course)(BUT HE CAN TAKE THEM DOWN WITH HIM.)

what. if IWNRITFP. maybe we can say the zonai in some capacity WERE real idk. this is irrelevant to my essay but i do like the thought they're just Early Hyrule and we know nothing more about them that's true than we did in botw. i think it would be incredibly good soup if ganon just made EVERYTHING about zonai and the Ancient Times that we see and learn of in totk. just. completely up. this also solves how ganondorf (and also rauru and sonia like character-wise) kind of sucks in this game tbh: because he's The Villain. he's MADE himself THE villain. what are his motivations? you may ask. what the hell is he trying to do? what on earth is even going on with zelda and co in the past? irrelevant. you see if he is as cartoonishly evil as possible. and makes zelda and co (The Good Guys)(So Good Guys Wouldn't It Suck If Something Like Killed Them Mercilessly Or Whatever) completely miserable and sets up the perfect, most unassailable dichotomy in her mind of Me Evil, Monarchy (You)(plural)(The Royal You, even) Good, then zelda and link who are already traumatized can just be pushed more firmly into The Cycle. all of this if he just. makes them live out a nightmarish reality he constructs of "nothing that they are or have been matters and they have to cast it all aside to be The Princess and The Hero". and convinces them keep that going forever. because without them(The Princess and The Hero) there is only Him (The Villain). they HAVE to be in the cycle to keep him from winning the cycle by default. don't they. right. sure they do don't look at the man behind the curtain what man. who said that.

also the sages!!!! Bloodlines!!! Of Course It's About Bloodlines!!!!!! it's the cycle!!

and see the thing is link and zelda come out of the catacombs with Dragon Ganon Defeated and that can be real. that's the story. link and zelda finally do come out of the catacombs. they have experienced once again a bunch of things that no one else had anything to do with or could be reasonably aware of and there is nothing they can do to involve these other people. they can try to talk about it but everyone else really truly it cannot be emphasized enough was just doing other things. everything makes sense if it's about the isolation. The Role. idk ig parts of the surface stuff ought to be "real" or at least "interacted" with, but that wouldn't be very hard for a magical rage beast probably. the whole kingdom experiences a brief extended nightmare but link and zelda as usual get the brunt of the cosmic horrors. this makes sense to me.

also!!!! this makes the depths like. less. [picture so-so gesture here.]

i mean. they're still like. more should have been done with the depths. more (or less) should have been done with all of totk but i'm exhibiting favoritism here. the depths make sense if IWNRITFP. the yiga are down in an empty inverted-ish Ghost Monster Hyrule doing loony toons. they are also. cartoonishly. evil(?). do the yiga have a point in totk? like. really? do they. (other than Mechanics.) well. i raise you: do they NEED one? link loots stuff and knowledge from them. as in: you have to know things in dreams. somehow. sometimes. what i'm trying to get at here is aren't the depths and the yiga so much more funny if ganon is literally just making them up. like "here is Evil hyrule (look at the ghosts of all those you've failed) with my Evil minions (evil)(like me)(cartoonishly evil and bumbling)(this is a dry joke sarcasm HUMOR. if you will.)(what if ganon is like "oh yeah the yiga my doomsday death cult in botw what was going on with— did link throw that guy down a hole. that's hilarious. i'm going to make a whole thing about that.) and my Evil loot here have relics of past heroes. this doesn't mean anything btw don't worry about it just put them on. yes Put The Tunic On no don't think about it i'm not even here. what. who said that"

like. OH of COURSE no one recognizes you or says much of anything that doesn't somehow give you instructions or tasks to do if IWNRITFP. like. ganon doesn't care. link doesn't care!!! that's something people do. when he is running around trying to save the world. that makes sense..... DREAM SENSE. nightmare sense. this is me coping with the complete lack of character interaction and whimsy i like from loz background guys the totk npcs are SO BORING. and if they're cardboard cutouts. right. of course they are. duh. no friends in the hater zone.

do you all see my vision. is this anything. had i played more than 5% of the game or read more stuff i could probably expand on this or be at all coherent but DO YOU GET IT. am i communicating. please take this and run with it THIS is how we can still get majora's mask and. COSMIC DOOM AND HORROR also again justice for ganondorf (and zelda)(and link) on this one WHAT IF. he was evil. what if he was FUNNY. what if totk were good.

ganon with the last vestiges of his Evil Power from his corpse under the castle sealed for reasons of There Can Still Be A Good Story There: if two guys were on the moon and one guy killed another guy with a rock would that be fucked up or what. also wouldn't it be cool if i were a dragon. i’d like to be a dragon. i can make that happen and sort of kind of make sense. as a treat. while also doing that to the princess while tormenting her with (More) Visions.

welcome to his twisted mind...... mine.......... minecraft server. hey gamers have you ever THE CYCLE THE CYCLE GET BACK IN THE CYCLE

life could be a dream. IT COULD BE A DREAM

#* #chatter #loz #i thought of posting this to one of the quarantine blogs for brainrot but instead i will torment u all on main #i've never used one of these tags before but #totk salt #no one come pitchfork at me i tried so hard to be pitchfork repellent #also i wrote this while doing 3 other things as usual and i refuse to proofread. um. sorry. #my solution to everything is ''so and so could have a sense of humor. this fixes everything''

[cursedwithgloriouspurpose]

Just to put it out there, this is the post that set this off though I've been seeing shit like this for weeks. I'm not reblogging it because I don't want to directly spread this.

Can't believe I have to say this, but: AO3 is not an inherently community properties. It is a Non-Profit Organization that was begun and organized by people with certain ethos in mind; in a very condensed nutshell, the freedom to write and share any and every kind of fic, no matter what subject matter it contains. Period. They wrote the charter to suite their ideals, funded it alongside like-minded individuals, and manned it for many years. People who believe in the dream that they set up are the ones largely running the show now (a few founding members may still be around, though I'm not sure about that,) but so far that ethos has remained in tact.

While AO3 was always meant to serve the community (and they do,) it was never meant to be run by anyone who does not share their ethos. That's why actively contributing to the organization itself--ie, through volunteering, and/or donating--is a requirement for having a say in what the archive does. You do not get to vote on board elections if you are not involved. You do not get to be on the board if you do not do these things. That is how all non-profits work. A non profit is not a union (and outside of possibly the original vote to organize, no union I've ever heard of allows non-union members to vote on union procedure, policy, or in elections.)

One of the reasons why this is true is that anyone who doesn't agree with the founding tenants of absolute free speech, no matter how vile that speech may be, will not stick with the organization long enough to change things internally--that is a feature, not a bug.

Why? In this case, because of that ethos. Because of the fic bans and the purges that the idea for AO3 was born out of, which always stemmed from "concerned individuals" and calls for "morality." Completely unironically, because of all the shit that's happening to regular libraries across the US right now. Essentially, because of all the things AO3 was always meant to stand against.

God fucking damn but am I tired of this latest round of anti nonsense disguising itself as "Proship" and "Anti-racist" and "Anti-harassment" in order to try and drive a wedge between AO3 and its donors. I've seen this song and dance before. We all have. It used to be "child porn" and "think of the children," and now its "harassment," and "abuse!" Ie, the exact things that the modern lefty is hard programmed to fall into line behind without actually considering the evidence.

People please read through this shit critically before just assuming its valid. Note the lack of actual, clearly displayed and easily legible proof*. How all the "I've complied everything in one page!!!" posts seem to just be paragraphs after paragraphs of conjecture and vague statements without, again, any goddamn proof (except, maybe, a list of links entirely removed from context, appended to the bottom.) Be critical of authoritative statements about how things "should" be run without any sense of where that authority is coming from, and the lack of solid answers (or even suggestions) as to how the problems should be fixed in any way that isn't "Fire everyone I've decided is responsible for this (again, without proof,) and replace them with people who want to completely rewrite the ethos of the site to allow bans on content that everyone (and by 'everyone,' I mean me, the speaker) agrees is objectionable."

There is an alarming number of parallels I've been seeing lately re: how people are currently attacking AO3 and how bad actors in various states are forcing through book bans. Please be mindful.

*"easily legible" is kind of a weird phrasing, but i can't think of a better one. What I mean, specifically, is a good 90% of the "proof" links I've found are all links to mid-page comment streams on anonymous wank boards which mostly start mid-conversation, effectively removing them from their original context, and never site any sources of their own. Literally everything is He Said/She Said levels of bullshit with some corporate buzz words tossed in to make it sound more valid than it is.

#call out culture nonsense #i thought we left this behind in 2016 #ffs #i really wish people would stop couching things in the language of 'abuse' #suspending someone you think is involved in an attack is not abuse #it is LITERALLY responding to the problem you say you want them to respond to #also the Legal team IS the team that should be interpreting the TOS #that is literally their thing #The TOS is a legal document #someone without a legal background should not be interpreting it

[oh-my-may]

Suna as your boyfriend headcanons

suna relationship headcanons? hes my fav charater and i loved your osamu Christmas cookies fanfic so i went to go see some more things you have written and i noticed that there was nothing for suna, and i really like your work so i was wondering if you could possibly write something for him. its perfectly fine if you dont have the time or just done want to.

A/N: Woah, anon, me too. I love Suna, he turned into one of my favorite characters when I read the manga, he's just so pretty <33

Also this is very long and detailed at times, it's been a while since I last wrote "headcanons" so instead during fitting parts I just straight up wrote a paragraph

word count: 2.5k

warnings: none, not proof read

My requests are open! Leave something for me there

Okay listen, being with suna might be one of the most chill things out there, like on a scale of all haikyuu characters he’s #1

But let’s start at the beginning

Suna is lowkey about his feelings. He keeps 98% of his feelings to himself and works through stuff on his own, and most of the time unfortunately he doesn’t find a solution for his problems like this and he doesn’t know how to approach things, ESPECIALLY when it comes to… love

When he was younger his family referred to him as a late boomer bc he never brought home a partner

The thing is… There were people he was interested in. But it never lasted long, or the feeling was not intense enough in order for him to actually consider making a move. It never bugged him.

Well, until High School when he got to know the Miya twins and (unfortunately) became friends with them quite quickly. And they were just so … so … much. So much of everything. Suna did not like that, he found their bickering to be amusing at best, a funny video on his phone he can replay for a laugh. But sometimes they came up with these silly competitions and bets. And sadly, he was involved in them quite soon after getting to know them. It was dumb insignificant stuff most of the time. Slowly steal Aran’s pens, one at a time out of his pencil case until none were remaining. Sometimes they also came up with stuff involving… well… romance. They were teenagers after all, it’s a quite prominent topic. Suna just made a face whenever the topic came up and of course the twins noticed his apprehensiveness towards the topic fast enough to come up with a plan. “Hey Suna, make a conversation longer than two minutes with a person you bump into today. Dare. We’ll clean the club room in your stead.” Suna hated that idea. What he heated even more though, was doing “unnecessary” tasks like moving too much while cleaning. Kita took care of that anyways. So he just sighed and nodded. Fine, then. Bold of them to assume he’d bump into anyone at all, he’s tall enough to clearly see everyone around him, there was no way someone would actually manage to bump into him without him avoiding it.

Or so he thought, because he did not see your clumsiness coming. How could he have. You were carrying big maps in your arms, a few too many for your size and arm length. Shame on you for being foolish enough to think you could carry the materials for two people since your friend was sick today. So after class, as Suna made his way up the stairs to his classroom, you came stumbling down with the maps in your arms threatening to fall all over the place. You almost managed to prevent the crisis. Almost. Someone must have lost a candy wrapper earlier today and not noticed. Now, with the tile floor of the stairs along with your slippery shoes, it was only a matter of time before you slipped and fell. You only caught a glimpse of someone coming up the stairs you were walking down. Inan attempt to save not anly your life and theirs you let go of the maps and cried out a “WAtch OUt-!” Suna looked up then, eyes widening as he watched the maps collapse down the stairs in front of him. He pressed his body to the railing, while holding out an arm to try and catch the falling materials. He did not succeed in that, but instead caught hold of your outstretched hand that was gripping after the maps. Surprised by the sudden skin contact you yelped and came to a hold in a weird crouching position in front of him, his long fingers wrapped around your wrist which most likely prevented you from falling to your knees completely.

Both of you shared a look before watching the maps rol down the last flight of stairs and finally stop at the foot of the platform. You sighed at the sight. “Great.” Was all you could utter in a less motivated tone now. Then you remembered the boy next to you, with your wrist still in his hold. “Uh, thanks for saving my life.” Suna was still perplexed. Did the Miyas have telekinetic powers? Did they plan this? “You’re welcome.” A quite polite answer from him. “Saved my own in the process, it seems.” He nodded towards the bundle of maps at the foot of the stairs. You could just answer with a helpless sound. “Sorry for this. Almost didn’t see you, I must have slipped on something.” Suna could still just look at your figure. He felt quite captivated by the way you talked to him so effortlessly despite never having met him. He was not rude, just quiet. He greeted others with silent nods and never made small talk. And here you were blabbering about how you got in this situation in the first place, talking about your geography teacher and sick friend, forming the grandest apology he’s ever heard from another teenager. Suna was so captivated that in his trance he said something you would have never heard him say: “So, do you need help carrying those?” A phrase his teammates never heard him say before. Suna Rintarou? Doing work he doesn’t have to do? What was wrong with him.

Suna is the type of guy that’s quite oblivious to his own feelings and for a big part also those of others. It’s a result of never paying attention when he felt a twinge of affection for people in the past. After your first encounter, Suna often found himself hanging out with you. The twins didn’t even know of your existence for the first few weeks. Suna just kept disappearing during breaks without a word, he was the first to leave practice and he spent even more time looking down at his phone. They first met you at a match, where you greeted Suna with a big smile and wave and shouted his name to cheer him on. “my gawd, he’s gotten himself a fan.” could be heard from Atsumu, who felt a twinge of jealousy and earned a kick from his brother. You hung around them a lot more afterwards and learned their antics personally, after Suna had spent way too much time ranting about them in your lunch break meetings or through text messages. There were weeks filled with those meetups and phone calls, you even met at the twins’ home to play video games, you came to his matches and sometimes to watch his practice, too. Weeks until Atsumu exploded after practice one day, grabbed Suna’s collar and shouted: “So what’s this with Y/N, huh? You just playin’ or somethin’? What’s wrong with ya?”

Suna did not know what he was talking about right of the bat. His eyes wandered to Osamu, who was usually a bit more calm and level-headed. He usually saved Suna from these situations. This time though he stood next to his brother and had the same look on his face. “Do you like them, you giant loaf, or nah?”

DID he like you? Of course he did, otherwise he wouldn’t hang out with you. “You stupid bloke, that’s not what we meant!” “Are ya in love with ‘em?” Oh. Is that why he felt so weird hanging out with you, compared to when he was hangout out with the team? Was that the reason why he felt so light and carefree with you? Is that why he texted you first and last thing in the day? When the Miyas noticed that clearly, they had reached something in him, they let go of him. “Man, ya gotta make a move. Y/N’s definitely into you but they’re way too nice to make the first move. Don’t wanna get rejected, I guess.” With those words Osamu gave him a pat on the shoulder and left.

It took Suna another two weeks to think about all this. Was he finally in love now? Was he so stupid he didn’t even notice how much nicer you were to him than your other friends?

His confession came unplanned. It was before an important qualifying match for nationals. He wasn’t nervous before those, usually. But today you were there. When he saw you waiting in the big hall before the gym, clad in Inarizaki colors and colourful smudges on your cheeks, holding a bigger box with something, looking out for… Well, most likely him, his heart definitely did some gymnastics he wasn't used to. When you finally caught sight of him and the team you got all excited, smiling from ear to ear and almost toppling over in the process, he had to look away and gulp. You were so so adorable and nice and sweet and pretty, there was no way he could ever do this. “Good luck! You got this, I’m sure. I mean, I’ve seen you practice, you’re definitely prepared!” You beamed at them. “Thank you, Y/N! See you after the match!” Atsumu answered with smug laughter and then got pushed away by his brother, who patted Suna’s back YET AGAIN as the team left. “Here, I even have a surprise for you.” You held up the box in front of his face, then. His eyebrows knitted. “What’s that?” You smiled triumphantly. “Well… Last week we went to that café with the twins after your practice, right? You mentioned your favourite pastry and how you barely see it in shops, so I thought that after the match… No matter how it will end – I mean of course you’ll win! – it would be nice if you had it, no?” “I love you.” The words slipped out before he had even realised. He was so enamoured by your deed, the way you were speaking then, that everything was overflowing all at once. “Woah… What?” You were about equally as shocked as he was. Your expressions mirrored each other. Suna wanted to ram his head against a wall but refrained. It was too late to take it back, now. “I’m being serious. I’m just a stupid idiot who doesn’t know anything about stuff like this so I didn’t know what was going on, so sorry if I hurt you. I will cherish the pastries after the match no matter what.” Feeling bold, he took your hands and pressed them tightly against his chest. “Talk to you after the match?” You just nodded, all light-headed from the sudden confession and change of pace in your relationship.

Surprisingly, afterwards not a lot of things changed. You still hung out at school, after practice, he walked you home or picked you up. You hung out with the twins, played video games, you sat in front of him at the gym when he exercised to motivate him. Just from now on, the looks you exchanged had more affection in them. He placed his hand on your back or over your shoulders when you were standing somewhere. He placed his head on your thighs when you came to watch their practice and he needed a break, so you stroked his hair only for both of you to get scolded by Kita. Now, he took your hand when you walked to get coffee and took pictures of you. So many pictures and videos, of almost all things you did.

That’s how he preserves your relationship. He probably has about 10 folders on his laptop filled with your shared memories of late night trips to the grocery store, his matches where you came to cheer him and the team on, lazy afternoons at the Miya’s who just got annoyed that they were now friends with a couple, and many more

Dates with Suna are spontaneous most of the time and he prefers staying inside and hanging out. His love language is quality time and you learn that quite quickly. He just comes over at random times to do his homework even though you have to learn something completely different. But he does not mind, as long as you’re both in the same room. Trying new video games, reading to each other, cooking and baking together, watching movies and shows – that’s how you usually spend your time. But Suna also enjoys taking you to the cinema, or walks out of the city up the local hills, away from civilization where you’re just surrounded by endless fields and giant trees. When he got his driver’s license he often picked you up at random times of the day and you just drove off to some place, sometimes rounding the same block 20 times or completely leaving everything behind for 3 hours. As long as you’re next to him and you both can listen to the music you both enjoy the most, he’s contempt with everything

As mentioned before, he’s big on subtle PDA, but do not ever kiss him in public. Let him initiate the PDA, a hand on your thigh or waist or back, a cute pat on your head, stroking your cheek and then pinching it – those are his go-tos. Good luck kisses before matches only become a thing for you after he leaves High School and joins the higher leagues and the games get more serious. It only happened a few times that he was so ecstatic after a match that he came up to you and kissed you right there on the spot for everyone to see. He usually likes to keep your relationship to himself when it comes to things like this.

However, he loves posting pictures of you. You know those slightly blurry pictures? Yeah, tons of those of you in his stories with either really stupid captions or a single black heart

Suna may seem lazy but he’s a hard worker and knows what he wants in life. Almost as important as his own future is yours to him. He’s your biggest hype man and supporter. Accompanying you to important exams, helping you learn and make hard decisions for your future. He just needs you to learn that he’s always there and you can tell him anything.

A thing you have to accept with Suna is that as much as he cherishes time with you and loves spending time with you, he needs time to himself as well. He’ll send you a small text or leave a small note about heading out for a while and you will find him coming back at night, the fresh air of the night wind around him, signalling that he went on a long drive with the windows down for a while

And … that’s about all I have to say for now. Suna’s my type of man definitely, 12/10 would date IF he was real :’)

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #hq xreader #hq headcanons #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu suna #suna rintarō #suna rintaro #suna x reader #suna headcanons #suna x you #suna x y/n #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro x you #suna rintaro scenarios #suna rintaro x y/n #suna rintaro hcs #suna imagines #suna rintaro fluff #suna fluff #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu drabbles #suna imagine

[sarandipitywrites]

dead darlings tag

@darkangel319 tagged me here - thank you! go read her cut here and join me in my urge to punch a king in the face

Rules: Share a part of your writing you love that got cut for the greater good. It doesn't matter if it's a line or a paragraph. It doesn't matter if you might work it back in. If it's not currently in a WIP and you want to share, please do.

so i'm having a great time editing DRDW, but not gonna lie, i miss my boys. so i'm sharing an early, early think piece on Lienzo and Baz's relationship in The Art of Empty Space. i'd still really like it to exist in the next draft in some form but, sadly, i think we're just not going in a direction where this will work as-is. so here's a whole-ass scene that's as good as cut!

some context: Baz has gone through some character changes since i wrote this - he was still fully nonspeaking at this point (in this scene he communicates with a chalk and handheld writing slate as well as sign language) whereas in the other, more recent snippets i've posted here, he only loses speech when stressed. he also was a lot more into bugs in this version, whereas now he's more into plants and magic (he still loves plants in this snippet though).

i'll stash the excerpt under the cut because long, and also because of light and fluffy human/monster romance

tags first: @notwritinganyflufftoday, @macabremoons, @oh-no-another-idea, @reliul, @winglesswriter, and anyone else who wants to share a piece of writing from the cutting room floor :)

“Hey, Baz? Teach me something.” Cicadas droned from the nearby trees and the ocean grumbled against the cliffs below. The air was thick with salt and nectar. Though Baz had yet to pour the wine they’d brought with them, Enzo’s head was already buzzing. Baz paused, mouth of the wine bottle hovering over the glass. He’d insisted on bringing this particular wine for their impromptu picnic — he’d claimed it to be required for the cheese and bread they’d brought from the palace. Enzo suspected he just wanted an excuse to drink in the sun like the overgrown iguana that he was. Setting the glass and bottle down on the thin blanket, Baz hummed and grabbed his slate. “Cicadas can lay dormant for years, waiting for favorable hatching conditions.” Enzo squinted into the trees, trying to spot one of the ugly devils. “You think these guys were around before the curse?” If he could speak their monstrous language, would they reveal the spell’s secrets? “The eggs they hatched from certainly were. The cicadas that laid them are long dead. Adult cicadas only live a few weeks.” “So, what, they wait for years for a good time to hatch, then when the planets align, they emerge, fuck, and die?” Baz snorted, the chalk in his hand snapping in two. He began to reach for a new piece before abandoning the slate in favor of sign. “More or less.” “Sounds awful.” He scooted back on the blanket, shoulder brushing against Baz’s as he resumed filling the wineglasses. Plum and chocolate wafted up from the glass, sending a shiver down Enzo’s spine. Only when the glass was sufficiently full and in Enzo’s hand did Baz respond. “To us, perhaps. But it’s all they know.” “Doesn’t mean you can’t look for something better.” “True. We’re not cicadas, after all.” “Thank the gods for that.” Baz laughed again, a quiet, breathy sound that made Enzo’s chest flutter. He raised his glass in a silent toast. Enzo couldn’t keep the grin from his face. Didn’t bother to try. “To not being cicadas.” The clink of glasses echoed across the terrace.

* * *

Baz had been right about the wine. Smooth and strong and delightfully fruity, it complemented the tangy cheese and sourdough bread perfectly. By the time they’d polished off the bottle, Enzo’s head buzzed with warmth and delicious lethargy. Enzo turned to tease the Rookport Beast for his fancy knowledge of wine pairings, but the words never quite made it out. Beside him, Baz lay supine on the blanket, one muscled arm draped over his face to shield his eyes from the late afternoon’s light. Enzo’s tongue dried and he found himself lamenting that they hadn’t brought a second bottle of wine. For someone who looked to be born of midnight, Baz seemed to be terribly fond of the sun. Each ray threw the shadows at the hollow of his throat into deep contrast and highlighted each ringlet of his crow-black hair and warmed the cool undertones of his dusky skin to summer twilight. The sun, it seemed, was equally fond of him. “…Hey, Baz?” A grunt revealed him to still be awake. “What… uh…” What would convince him to uncover his face? He cast around and plucked a small blue flower hiding in the shade of a memorial stone. “What kind of flower is this?” Baz was up in an instant, propped up on one hand as he blinked the sunlight from his eyes. For one glorious moment, however, as his eyes fought to adjust after his self-imposed darkness, his pupils shrank to pinpricks in rings of crepuscular copper. He blinked at the flower in Enzo’s hand. “That’s a columbine. It’s a wildflower — pollinators like them, especially hummingbirds”

Hummingbirds were pollinators? Gods, Baz was smart — Enzo still couldn’t get over how smart he was, couldn't understand why he let Enzo hang around him, even when they weren’t working on the curse. If he were Baz, he’d want to spend his free time casting spells and breeding mutant plants and swordfighting, not laying around with a drunk, stupid— “Hey.” Baz’s hand appeared in front of Enzo’s eyes, claws clicking together as he snapped his fingers. “Don’t talk like that. I like spending time with you.” Enzo’s face and ears heated. Thinking out loud. Worse on wine, apparently. “And I’m not any smarter than you.” Baz looked away, his cheekbones stained a deep maroon. “I just remember things. You understand them. You solve problems and people and you know what to say and you can say it, and—” The knot at his throat bobbed. “I think you’re a genius.” Enzo clamped down on his tongue before it could say, ‘Then why do you make me speechless?’ Because he wasn’t that sappy. Not even on wine. “Tell me more?” he asked instead. “About columbines. They’re just… naturally blue like that? Looks like someone pinned two flowers together, one inside the other.” Baz hesitated only a moment before he looked at Enzo again. He really couldn’t resist talking about plants, the big dork. “They… can be a lot of colors.” He took the tiny flower from Enzo’s hand and twirled it between his fingers. Though his talons grazed the flower’s petals, they didn’t tear. “In some parts of the world, they’re thought to symbolize the meeting of two souls — the inner and outer petals. They remind us to have faith in those we love.” Warm skin shifted under his. “…Enzo?” Enzo pulled away, cheek burning like he’d laid it against a stove. “Shit, sorry! Sorry, that was— I didn’t—” “Wait.” Baz chewed his bottom lip, sharp teeth sinking into plump flesh without breaking skin. Drawing Enzo’s eyes inexorably, when he needed to be focused on Baz’s hands— “Come back? Please?” He did. Slowly, carefully. Reminding himself that Baz’s desire — tolerance — for contact was just that. He’d been alone for seven years, maybe longer. He needed human contact, but not the way Enzo needed it. Baz needed it the way all people did, at some point or another, not Enzo’s sick, needy, pathetic— “Enzo?” The sign pressed against his chest, through his shirt, through his skin. Baz’s eyes were right in front of him, pupils blown wide until they nearly eclipsed his irises. Molten copper coronas in the darkness.

He swallowed. How had he gotten there? Had he straddled Baz’s hips of his own accord, or— “Teach me something?” There wasn’t much someone like Enzo could teach someone like Baz. He opened his mouth to say as much, but somehow ended up saying nothing at all. Lips pressed on sunwarmed lips. Chaste. Chapped skin dragging against his. Then again, harder and faster, lips parted, brushing against teeth. Enzo nipped at Baz’s lower lip, eliciting a growl as a big hand combed through his hair, loosening it from its tie. Claws grazed over his scalp, raising the tiny hairs at the nape of his neck. Enzo’s breath came harder and faster. “Your turn,” he breathed. Feeling Baz stiffen beneath him, he kissed him hard. “You won’t hurt me. Tougher than I look, remember?” Slowly, gently Baz returned to Enzo’s mouth, lips sliding against his. He drew Enzo’s bottom lip into his mouth and nibbled at it, tongue swiping across the worried flesh just as quickly. It felt like an apology, a hymnal, and a teasing test all in one. Chills raced across Enzo’s skin, down his spine, straight to the pit of his stomach. He moaned into Baz’s mouth and buried a hand in his hair, springy-soft coils scrunching in his grip. He ran his tongue along the rim of Baz’s lips and, when they parted, plunged in. Sharp teeth grazed against his tongue as he brushed the slick muscle in a caress that drew a sigh and a moan. Enzo’s heart stuttered and he swallowed the sound. Baz’s voice. He’d never dared to wish for it beyond the hums and grunts that made up his companion’s vocalizations, but now, with it reverberating in his chest and soul, a bassy thrum like a big cat’s purr— He wanted it. Wanted to hear it, feel it, always. For him. Only for him.

#writeblr #writeblr tag game #dead darlings tag game #original fiction #romantasy #paranormal romance #lgbt fiction #my writing #the art of empty space

[engelfeather]

Fangs and Fur: chapter 12

Angel's smile dropped hearing the feminine voice cut him off. His tail flicked nervously, as he straightened himself, brushing some of the dust from his clothes and giving Xavier a sign to hide.

With Xavier securely hidden in his fur, he turned around. There stood three figures before him, with two men standing beside each side of a woman who stood in the middle. The man on the right had black fur with faint markings swirling in the sea of darkness, that covered his body. With his arms behind his back, Xavier only now noticed that his right arm was replaced with a prosthetic, with scars marking his other arm and a long one running through his lips. His piercing green eyes reminded that of a venomous snake, however the large pointy ears and long tail showcased that this creature had mostly feline attributes. Looking upwards into the man's piercing green eyes, he saw his pupils dilating at the sight of Angel. His mouth contorted into a disgusted sneer, as he glanced at the tall man on the left. His tall stature dwarfed Angels own height, with six pupiless eyes staring at him with distaste. Six arms sprouted from his body, which were crossed, on his hips and behind back. His light blue skin glistened slightly in the light, with his purely white hair swaying slightly in the wind. His bug-like mouth pinchers slowly gnawed the air around it, awaiting for Angel to be chewed out by the woman in the middle. Her black eyes, as dark as ebony, glared at Angel. The only light in them being her golden pupils, that were formed into slits. Her round cat ears twitched in annoyance, with her frown showcasing clear disappointment. Similar to the man on the right, she had dark fur, as if they were related, however unlike him, her fur was more grey, with dark tabby patterns marking her body and hair, with only her arms and feet carrying a similar black to the man. Her long fluffy cat tail that swished around, aggravated.

”Why hello there, Frostshine, Felix and.. Sol.“ Angel said, smiling at them, yet Xavier still noticed a hint of nervousness in his voice. The woman, named Sol, merely let out a hiss, asking again ”Angel. What the hell did you think when you did that! You know unauthorized citizens can't go around fighting them.“ Angels eyes darted to the ground in an apologetic manner, right as he regained his composure and looked back up, speaking up ”I was just trying to protect a kid! Is that so bad?“ Now the tall man, Frostshine, on the right spoke up, pulling out a small book, flicking through the pages ”Well, it doesn't matter if you thought it was okay to break the rules for your little hero mission.“ he said in a cool, mocking tone, ”Here, according to page 42, paragraph 3 it clearly states that it is prohibited for someone like you to interact with those creatures. Your only job is to get away and let us handle them.“ Angel pouted, rolled his eyes, then looked at the man with disdain. Flicking his wrist in a dismissive manner, he snapped back ”Oh please, you just flicked to a random page, stated some random numbers and words to sound more sophisticated.“ The bug-like man smirked ever so slightly, he shook his head and put the small book away, as he replied ”If it gets our point across better, I see no reason not to trick your little head. The rule still exists and you blatantly ignored it!“ Angel quickly came to his defense ”It's not even that bad! I protected someone and.. and I even did your job, how is it wrong of me to break the rules this one time.“

He turned his head to look at Sol, who pinched her temple, clearly annoyed. ”Angel, do you see the destruction that you caused?” She said, pointing to the destroyed area, ”What's the point in helping someone if in the end more destruction is caused.“ Angel crossed his arms, averting her gaze, as he mumbled ”Well, if you don't like me doing your job, maybe you shouldve come earlier..“ This only seemed to anger the woman, causing Angel to flinch in response.

”What did you just say.“ She let out a low growl approaching Angel, who tensed up, with Xavier trying to use Angels fur as a cover, ”We work very hard to make sure that this city is safe, unlike you. You don't even do anything important other than saying some nonsensical words on a stage. So don't you dare disrespect us to being some kind of lazy group of people who sit and loaf around! It's not our fault that another one of them burst out in another part of the city. We tried to arrive here as fast as possible, though you decided to pull this.. this "heroic" stunt, giving us more work now!“ Frostshines voice piped in, with that same condescending smile returning ”Seems like someone forgot their past training, but that doesn't surprise me coming from someone like you..“ Sol turned her head to face him, giving him a glance to shut it, as she looked back at Angel. Seeing his missing arm, she sighed, furrowing her brow ”...just get out of our sight and go get yourself fixed up.“

Angel hastily nodded and turned around to leave, as Sol grabbed him by his sleeve. With a sudden shift in tone, she spoke in a way that could only be described as a whisper ”Wait, if you're already going, you're taking them with you.. at least then you'll do something actually useful.. I'm letting you off with a warning, just... sigh.. just don't pull another stunt like this again. I don't want you to get yourself in more trouble.“ With that, she turned away and walked towards the crater, ignoring the flames that were desperately trying to engulf her.

As Angel watched her, he failed to notice that the man on the right, presumably Felix, approached him. His eyes were filled with pure hate, as he let out a cold sneer ”What a wonderful.. destructive.. stunt you just pulled! Oh how lovely it is to see your rotten face again..“ He said in a mocking tone, his pupils dilated into slits, ”No wonder you never completed your training, even now after all this time. Seems like old habits grow old Angel.. you really haven't changed one bit. Tsk, not like any of your feral kind has. If it wasn't for them, we wouldn't have to deal with all of this bullshit.“ His tail flicked around, as he circled him, with Angel merely accepting the crude words spoken about him. Felix continued, clenching his fist ”If I had the choice, I would've sent all of you back to the sewers where your filthy kind belongs. That your ilk even has the guts to live here.. urgh.. the only thing you contribute is disturbing the peace that was once held here.“ Angel furrowed his brows, yet didn't reply, glancing over to Sol who was returning, as he whispered back to him ”Do you want your sister to know what you think of her and her 'kind'..“ Felix growled at him, looking at him as if he were to pounce at him at any minute. ”She doesn't count.. she's different.“ He managed to spit back, before returning to his previous place, staring daggers into Angel and whispered about something with the other man.

As Sol returned, Xavier, who was mostly confused and partially appalled by whatever that conversation just now was, noticed that she was carrying the tiny person that he previously saw. Seeing how the tiny, soaked, person was shivering tremendously and coughing up a storm, he concluded that Angel was supposed to take them to a hospital as well.. or whatever form of hospital existed here. The poor guy was coughing so hard that the same black liquid, that leaked from Angels arm, exited its mouth. He hoped that Angel wouldn't use this opportunity to abuse the person's weakened state for his own twisted desires. However when he glanced up, he noted that Angel seemed to be observing the tiny man with genuine caution and care, with his hand cupped to hold them properly.

[ At least they wouldn't be subject to Angels torment. ]

With the shaking person safely secured in Angels hands, Sol turned away, turning her head, speaking up to get her point across, again ”Next time.. just let us handle them. There is no reason for you to get into more trouble, than you already are. Good day, son.“ She turned her head back around, flicking her large tail slightly as a way to say goodbye.

Upon her departure, Xavier fought his way out of Angels fur. His mind was swirling with a ton of questions, making his head all dizzy. However, not only did he have a ton of questions, but to hear that the woman was apparently Angels mom was a bomb shell he didn't think would drop, especially with how tense Angel was the whole conversation. Including the fact that Angel barely bit back with his, usually, sharp tongue, as if he were some kind of caged criminal that were held at the stake; utterly helpless, with people throwing tomatoes at him.

Despite Xavier trying not to feel any sympathy for him, having heard Angel being belittled and mocked for who he was, or better, for what 'kind' he belonged to, made him feel genuinely bad, even if Xavier himself didn't like Angel, nor his actions. After all, it wasn't his species that made Xavier despise his guts.

”Let's go, Xavier..“ Angel whispered softly, gently caressing the back of the tiny, coughing, person. His eyes were focused on the ground, as he slumbered along, making sure to keep the sick person in his hands away from Xavier, not that he ended up attacking him for his warm blood. To prevent this, he made sure the little fella was warm enough, by covering their body with one hand and gently blowing hot breath on them to keep them from shaking.

Bringing them so close to his mouth, he felt Xavier flinched, raising an eyebrow, he looked down, asking him ”What is it? ...you don't actually think I'd cannibalise on my own people.“ Xavier hesitated to say anything, however quickly waved with his hands ”No no, of course...not.“ he chuckled nervously, seeing Angel observe him quietly, as if to see if he was lying, ”Uhm.. don't worry.. that being said, I have... A ton of questions, I hope you understand... Sir..?“ he smiled awkwardly, hoping that would soothe any on coming anger coming from Angel, however he merely looked away, giving a small nod in agreement. Xavier was unsure if he should continue, yet at the same time, he didn't want to be left in the dark. Carefully he started ”So... About those mons–“ pretty quickly he was cut off, by a now aggravated Angel. ”They're.. we aren't monsters! Stop calling us that.“ he clenched his fists, ”It's not our fault we turn into them, do you really think we want to be one of those creatures of destruction!?“ He growled at him, however Angels response made Xavier widen his eyes, careless about Angels reaction. ”You.. turn into them?“ he uttered under his breath. Angel closed his eyes and turned his head in shame ”..yes. we do, who do you think I'm carrying right now?“ Xavier swallowed, remembering how it tore apart a person's body, devouring their flesh, as he expressed the words that were in both of their minds ”... you're carrying the Mon-.. the creature.“

Angel nodded, trying to ignore the fact that the human almost referred to his people as monsters again. He took a moment, not responding right away, with his shoulders slumped and his tail dragging on the ground in an upset manner. He didn't like revealing such information, lest Xavier view him as much more of a threat than he already was. With that in mind, he tried to explain their situation further, to prevent any unnecessary confusion ”Not all of us can turn into them, rather, only one of the two groups, that divide us, can. . .“ His voice sounded tired, as his eyes wandered of into the distance. Noticing Angels change of tone, he glanced back down at the seemingly sick individual, out of pity.

Despite knowing this tiny creature was the cause of so much destruction, his head couldn't, or rather, didn't want to accept that fact. After all nothing so helpless.. so sick, could ever do so much harm, right? Then again even his own, practically unimportant, kind, that existed in the vast landscape of space, was capable of destroying complete cities in a blink of an eye. With his attention being focused back on the tiny 'monster' in Angels hand, he noticed that the tiny creatures coughing had seemingly gotten worse, with its blood continuing to trickle on to Angels hand. He wondered if perhaps this sickness was the reason for the transformation into such gruesome beast of destruction. ”They.. turned into one and they seem.. sick.“ he nervously said, looking back up at Angel, who continued to stare at some invisible dot in the distance, “Do only sick people ..of that particular group turn“ Angel let out a small chuckle, as if he found his words amusing, shaking his head ”No, though it would certainly make life easier. In fact, that's the state we go into when we get sick.. which happens after someone turns back into their normal selves. It's like.. an energy reserve and If anything.. no one knows if someone would transform into one.. it can happen to anyone at any moment.. “ The more Angel rambled on, the more his voice fell back into a monotone tone. His shoulder slumped down, which caused him to almost drop the supposed monster in his hands.

Xavier listened to Angel quietly, making sure to grasp his words fully. His mind was barely able to comprehend the last several weeks he was in this strange world, let alone grapple with the destruction of his home. A part of him felt horrible, somewhat disappointed in him for asking, seemingly, unimportant questions. If anything, he should just try to find a way to escape and forget about this hell hole he was trapped in. Yet his human nature, his curiosity, seemed to be careless about that.. or perhaps, it was merely a way for him to get his mind off of everything that had happened.How strange human nature is.

Focusing back on reality, he realised that Angel seemed to be waiting for more questions, seemingly afraid he might view them all as a threat. Perhaps the sheer size difference and the latest aggressive encounter seemed indifferent to him, though he'd use this opportunity regardless to learn and understand more, perhaps even give some advice ”I.. I mean, if those people are truly such a threat.. cant those who turn be kept away somewhere, for the safety of others..?“

However is idea seemed to only enrage the giant ”What the fuck Xavier!..“ he burst out, yet quickly quieted down, noticing people staring in confusion at him, ”... Don't you ever say that again, got that? You're acting as if all of us are constantly stomping around a city to destroy it..! You.. you know nothing you pathetic weasel. Do you think my people want to cause such destruction! Of course not. We just want to live normal lives as well..! Heck, most of us don't ever turn anyway! It's.. it's not our fault.. we aren't monsters... we're also people... just.. shut- shut up okay!“ his voice was shaky, breaking in the end. Xavier was staring at him with eyes just as open as his. Clutching his fur and trying not to scream out in fear. He felt the giants rapid breath wash over him, making his eyes tear up.Whilst Xavier wasn't new to Angels sudden outbursts, this time, he noticed how Angel seemed to plead with him, as if to convince not only him, but himself that they truly weren't the threat they were made out to be.

Angel bit his lip, seeing Xavier's fearful reaction. He didn't want to lash out in public, especially not after what happened earlier. He knew that people were staring at him judgmentally.. he knew they didn't want him here, which only fueled his building anger. Stopping in his tracks, he took a deep breath and looked down at the ill person. Seeing how miserable they were, he glanced down to his pocket where he kept his sweet sweet medication and couldn't help but smile slightly, calming him down. He knew he'd take some later, just in case

[ At least I won't be turning anytime soon. ]

After Angel calmed his mind, he continued walking, with Xavier shamefully looking down to Angels feet. His long strides were rhythmic and strangely soothing to Xavier, like one of those satisfying videos he used to watch back at home. Warmth filled his heart thinking about his old life. The more he thought of it, the more he missed the little things about it, that made his day shine a little brighter. Even if they were as little as the sun shining and hitting his skin. Hearing the laughter of some giant children running by, made him remember always passing a small playground. Where cheerful children often played at, with parents gossiping about whatever hot tea kept them occupied enough to not zone out, out of boredom. Sadness struck him, knowing that that small place, that used to bring so much happiness, was now destroyed, by someone, who supposedly liked children. He glanced back at the children that were running after each other, noticing the different appearances in each of them. None of them looked like they belonged to only two groups, which got him curious.He carefully cleared his throat, trying to not sound rude, as he slowly looked back at Angel. ”Y..you mentioned two groups of yours“ he asked slightly confused, ”Yet to me, you all look.. different from each other, as if there are more than just two groups you could belong to.“

His words seemed to spark slight amusement in Angel, who hastily shook his head, which made Xavier glad to have changed the subject to something.. better. ”No no, you got it all wrong, human! We might all look different, but there really are only two groups that truly separate us, our third eyes and its placement of course. Like.. mine, the so called lunaris, is on my forehead and.. and the other group, called the uhh.. solaris, has it in its left eye and Its left eye specifically!“ he grinned proudly, as he gave his human some insight, as he continued, “Though you're not entirely wrong.. we do get classified under certain families. For instance I'd be a part of the bovidae family.. since.. you know, I'm a goat.“ he let out a nervous chuckle, his eyes darting back down to the human.

Angel then observed him, as Xavier processed the new information he had gathered, like a hungry animal trying to find any kind of scrap to devour. It still felt strange to tell this tiny biped anything at all about his people. Regardless, he was quite happy to talk to Xavier, the human was too cute not to observe, even if he got on his nerves sometimes.

Xavier listened to Angels rambling, seeing just how quickly he became happy. He didn't even notice the dumb smile that formed on his mouth, as he leaned against the fur with his hand on his cheek.

What an emotionally wild rollercoaster he was on..

Previous chapter:

#giant/tiny #gt #giant #giant tiny #sfw giant/tiny #tiny #sizetumblr #borrowers #sfw #monster #giant story #gt community #gt story #giant furry #furry

[bugshine-and-raincloud]

I was going to make a post about this on Instagram, but I realized I literally started using Tumblr so I can infodump without a character limit but I don't think I have... So, I should post it here!... So I can be detailed without running out of space and having to delete paragraphs and paraphrase (I have to do that so much on Instagram 😞)...

Okay, so, one of my big headcanons from FNAF Security Breach is that Roxy is Transfem... That she's actually Trans Foxy... I actually stole this headcanon from Bug lol...

I was thinking about it a bit ago, and realized it genuinely makes sense?... Like, we headcanon that she's Trans Foxy since Foxy is pretty much completely absent from the game (as far as we're aware)... There's no direct mention of him, just a few art pieces depicting him + his area next to Monty's Golf that seems maybe abandoned?... I haven't played the game in a bit, but I'm pretty sure it's fairly empty?... Or, at least, it felt pretty empty to me... And why would they (as in, Fazbear Entertainment) just get rid of a beloved character?... Maybe Foxy is just out of order and is in some inaccessible room, that's definitely the actual likely reason...

But who says headcanons have to be likely?!... Our headcanon is that Foxy is Trans and couldn't deal with the dysphoria anymore, so she told an employee or manager or whoever... She honestly probably just expected them to scrap her endoskeleton and replace her... Why would they bother actually allowing her to transition, that would cost a lot of money to feminize her casing... But the company is greedy and realized that pirates and foxes aren't as popular with kids anymore (are they actually?... Idk)... So they took the opportunity to create a (female, for Foxy) wolf character (are wolves more popular than foxes fr?... Idk, they're Bug's favourite animal though so they do feel more popular lol...), who's into racing (also unsure if racing is more popular than pirates, probably not?... But in this headcanon scenario they are... The world of Security Breach is different from ours, bears are literally extinct, I can headcanon whatever I want about it lol)... She now gets to go by Roxanne, be gender as fuck, and gets to be way cooler!... Though, she still struggles with self esteem issues and also has NPD (That one is a headcanon I came up with without Bug, I'm projecting so hard onto this wolf fr)...

Got a little carried away with my explanation, but that's what this Tumblr is for!... Anyway, that's not why I realized it makes sense... Well, that's our general justification for it, but earlier I realized something else... None of the Foxy's seem Cis... Honestly, that could be another reason why Fazbear Entertainment caved and just let her be Trans... No matter how hard they've tried in the past, no matter the design change or changing endoskeletons, the Foxys can't be Cis...

Mangle is the obvious example, Scott has been switching between he and she pronouns with her throughout most of the games and literally said his gender is "yes"... But she's not the only one... Funtime Foxy is one we've also headcanoned as Bigender for a while... Not just because he's feminine, but because she's referred to with she/her pronouns by handunit... Also, in UCN he's exclusively referred to with he/him pronouns, BUT she's also in the Ladies Night 3 challenge... Also Lolbit is kind of obvious too since they're literally just a virus and also they're the Nonbinary flag colors (basically)...

Those 3 are the obvious ones, the others are more.. purely headcanon lol... Nightmare Foxy is literally in the closet... Yes, that's my entire reasoning for him being not Cis... FNAF 1 Foxy is mostly hidden too, in his own sort of closet (ik it's a stage, I mean in a metaphorical way)... Also I'm not acknowledging the fact that he's possessed (or any of the other Foxy's) because I do not care and am only referring to the animatronics themselves... I believe (according to info on the fandom wiki...) FNAF 1 Foxy is out of order because his endoskeleton is glitchy and twitchy... Maybe because he's experiencing dysphoria 🤔 (ik this is a reach, all of this is a reach, LET ME HAVE FUN /lh)... Uh, is Withered Foxy a different Foxy?... I really need to learn the lore of these games lmao... Uh, he's Trans because they're all Trans... Idk if I'm forgetting any Foxys... All of the Foxys are either Nonbinary or Transfem (or both)...

Im kind of losing steam for this post, the tiredness is kicking in lol... Uh, yeah, the point is that it makes sense that they let Roxy just be Trans, since they realized Foxy is always Trans and they can't stop it... So they just fully embraced her finally...

Don't comment on this with any lore debunking anything, I genuinely couldn't care less, let us have our Trans headcanons for a bunch of nonexistent animatronics in a game series lol... Also, if Foxy does end up being in the DLC, it will debunk very little to us... We've already decided that if that happens, we'll just headcanon they gave that Trans endoskeleton her own casing (Roxy) and then just shoved a new endoskeleton in Foxy so they didn't have to actually lose the character... And that Foxy will also be Trans to us... There is no escaping the Foxy Trans headcanons lmao...

If anyone has read all of this, why? /lh... I mean, thanks?... Idk, lol... I appreciate being able to make a really long, silly post like this about a headcanon I love, that maybe someone will read (I doubt it though /lh)... If you agree with us, cool!... If you'd like, our dms are open for discussion about other Queer headcanons (even if we don't know the media, you can infodump to us and we'll enjoy learning about your blorbos and why you believe they're queer)... Our dms are also open for basically anything else, we barely socialize and wouldn't mind having others to talk to lol...

This post is too long for me to want to proofread (also I'm tired), if there are spelling or grammar mistakes, sorry... If there aren't, I'm just that perfect I guess /hj... 🌌

#rain rambles #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf security breach #fnaf sb #fnaf foxy #fnaf roxy #fnaf roxanne #roxanne wolf #headcanons #lgbtq+ #queer #transgender #trans headcanons #trans #transfem #nonbinary #bigender #long post #idk if i should be allowed to use Tumblr actually /hj... #im sorry this post kind of sucks and isnt super serious... #most of my headcanons are based on projection and silliness... #i am just here to have fun and maybe make some cishets a little bit angry... #not with this post specifically (tho maybe i will) just in general lol...

[androideql]

do u have an opinion on . yakumond re: bugs my mind is in factions, warring . edmond brave, yakumo baby. BUT yakumo farm boy. edmond city kid. yakumo destroying farm pests with his bare hands? out of habit? it's on SIGHT?? but nothing scares vice captain, right? so what if yakumond just turns my trope upside down and NEITHER of them are scared of bugs. what then. what do i do

I spent a while thinking how to reply to this ask. And. OK. Bear with me.

I honestly don't see either of them being afraid of bugs. I can see them not liking them, with Edmond being a more indiscriminate "bugs have no place in this house and should be squashed" compared to Yakumo's "will remorselessly kill pests but not harmless insects."

That being said... I kinda like the idea of Edmond having a very specific weakness to just one (1) bug and being utterly fucking embarrassed about it, and Yakumo (being the anxious baby he is) somewhat mirroring Edmond's response to it despite usually remaining very calm. They can be a disaster together. They've got that potential.

In fact, I liked the idea enough that I have this deleted short scene from a fic that I'm working on and that I will be releasing it into the wild now. Mind you, it's a draft so it's way more functional that it is polished.

------

“Sir Edmond, why don’t you go to sleep right away? It's already very late.”

Edmond looked up from the blank paper. At the lack of a desk, a small wooden crate he'd found here in the hayloft would work just fine. Until he saw that he'd finished writing the letter, he was not going to be able to calm his nerves enough to sleep. It didn't matter that it could be done the next morning. Why leave it for later if it could be done now?

“I’ll be finished in a few more paragraphs, don't worry,” he said, dipping the pen in the inkwell. "You shouldn't stay up longer than necessary, either. Is something holding you up?"

"Ah, well..." Yakumo looked at the lamp on the crate. It would be rather difficult to sleep with it still on, and he couldn't ask it be turned off if Edmond was still writing. "It's fine. I can wait a little longer. I'll make sure the tent is properly set up."

"Haven't you already done that twice?"

There wasn't much else left to do here. Maybe he could go outside or look around the barn for things that might be useful next morning? His eyes tried to look around. It would be rather difficult to do this in the dark... Besides, he didn't want to do anything that would be too distracting. Edmond was very particular about this letter.

As Yakumo looked around from where he was sitting, he could see something scuttling up one of the sides of the crate. He frowned at the presence of the insect. People commonly referred to those as "claw traps." They had a crab claw-like pincer and a nasty habit of biting people in their sleep and hiding in boots. What if there were more around? Thankfully, he'd had the foresight to bring some repellant.

Yakumo crawled closer to the tent, where he'd left his belongings. He rummaged around his bag for the repellent and something to kill the insect with. However, Edmond was so absorbed in writing his letter that he hadn't noticed yet. It was probably better to warn him before he got bitten.

"Sir Edmond, there's a claw trap going up your desk."

At the mention of the bug Edmond haphazardly grabbed all his things and scrambled backward in panic, spilling black ink on the wooden floor, splashing some of it on his shirt.

Yakumo's heart made a jump. He dropped his bag and reacted without thinking.

Squish, crack. He immediately squashed the bug with his bare hand.

For a moment, there was silence. He stared at his hand, at Edmond, who looked way too tense over a single bug. When Yakumo realized what he had done, a shudder ran up his spine. He lifted his hand. It was wet and crunchy, and he probably just stuck the claw into his palm because it hurt. He looked at it. Yes. There it was. Like a massive splinter.

He was more worried about how Edmond hadn't taken a single breath ever since he'd killed this thing, though.

"S-Sir Edmond, is everything alright?" He asked as he shook the remains of the claw trap off his hand.

Snapping out of his panicked state, Edmond nervously cleared his throat, his cheeks burning red. He looked aside and took a deep breath with an angry expression on his face.

"Y-Yes... I... Oh, how embarrassing... I need a moment."

With a nod of acknowledgment, Yakumo rushed to wash his hands in the basin, just the get the gooey and feeling off his palm. Now he was going to have to go back into the house to change the water. He was not about to wash his face with cold insect soup when he woke up in the morning.

The act of cleaning and removing the pincer from his palm helped him calm down and think about what just happened. He turned around to look at Edmond, who examined the stained sleeve of his shirt with an air of inconvenienced embarrassment. That ink stain was not coming out, and he probably knew that.

"Umm... Do you have something in particular against these insects? I've never seen you react like that to any others before..."

For sure, they'd been toiling in the fields for most of the day, and this wasn't the first time they'd dealt with a bug problem before. Usually speaking, Edmond didn't hesitate. He looked at the offending creature with disgust and slammed the first hard thing he could find against them, making it abundantly clear that, while he didn't like them, he could handle them perfectly fine on his own. While claw traps were unpleasant, this seemed a bit excessive.

Looking tired all of a sudden, Edmond took a long breath and let out a deep sigh.

"I don't like those."

"Ah... Well, yes? It's... not hard to see that at all..." He waited for Edmond to continue, and he was about to nervously change the topic and run away to change the water when Edmond cleared his throat.

"We saw a lot of them back when I was still in training. There was one summer when they were everywhere, wherever we set camp. They barely let us sleep. I've had an... aversion to them ever since. But I can handle them on my own next time. I just need a second or two to calm down."

The last part was a quick attempt to save face, but Yakumo wouldn't have minded it at all if he had to get rid of one of these pests again. He merely hoped Edmond's panic was a little less contagious next time.

Hoping to help Edmond retain some of his dignity for now, Yakumo tried to make the atmosphere a little less stilted by subtly shifting the subject away from how Edmond felt about these insects.

"You must have stayed within the Light Territory that summer then?"

Edmond gave Yakumo a surprised look.

"How do you know that?"

"Claw traps can only really survive there. The Water and Wood territories are too humid for them."

Hold on... Yakumo's brow furrowed deeply once he realized what he'd just said.

"How did it get here, then?" Edmond asked. And he was right. They were right in the middle of the Water territory, weren't they? But Yakumo didn't really have an explanation.

"M-Maybe they're mutating...?"

"No."

Edmond snapped at the suggestion. Yakumo reflexively lowered his head in response.

"Um..."

"Don't make me even entertain that idea." He stood up, slightly agitated. "I'm going the search the hayloft in case there are more. I won't be able to sleep otherwise."

"W-We have repellent myrrh. We can burn some inside the tent. It doesn't smell bad or anything..."

His voice was barely a whisper, but the night was already silent in the village and the fields. Edmond had no problem picking up what he was saying, or the tone in which it was said.

"... I apologize. My tone was too harsh."

Yakumo had never heard Edmond talk to him like that before. There was no doubt that these bugs were a touchy subject. He chuckled nervously.

"It's... fine. Don't worry. I understand."

With his cheeks turning red once again, Edmond let out some unintelligible noise that maybe, in some corner of his mind, had been words at some point. Eventually, he gave up, huffing in frustration.

"Tha-Thank you for handling it..."

"Oh. I... could do it again if we find another one."

Not enthused by the idea of seeing more of them, but still looking somewhat relieved, Edmond's voice and face softened just a little.

"I seriously wish we didn't... But I'd be quite grateful if you could."

#the reason why i waited to answer this was to make sure I was not going to use the scene at all #turns out that yeah i don't need it #should i put this in the main tag? #new fic coming to you... #... eventually #just bug squashing for now #i couldn't think of a good name for the insect also but it's not like i have to anymore #ok so here's my thinking process: #i've known enough people in the military to make me think that Edmond probably had to put up with some shit as a new recruit or trainee #and that he probably has things that he really really doesn't like as a result #the klein kingdom probably has a bunch of natural nuisances depending on the season #but a trainee probably wouldn't be sent out in the middle of winter right away cause they don't have those survival skills yet #so if those first excursions happen in spring or summer... then bugs are a problem #and Edmond IS a noble anyway. he was probably not expecting that many bugs much less for them to be bite-y #and as for yakumo i just dont see him minding bugs as long as they don't sting #he basically grew up in a cave first and then in a farm; he's super used to them #some kid probably tried to put a spider in his shoe once to try to scare him and got a very underwhelming response for his efforts #i do think he gets nervous when he sees something venomous especially if it moves too quickly #and he probably gets easily startled by jumping spiders if he hasn't noticed them before they jump in front of him #but that's more him being a nervous mess in general and less about bugs #ok enough rambling #i can't do concise answers for shit im sorry