#and just like... didnt question it

[cherryfennec]

Summer Times

Hi! I'm finally back from my two week abroad trip!

[lucabyte]

i feel like people are sleeping on the occam's razor situation of how buckwild it is to outright accuse a guy of being a clone of your friend even if you DO have a lot of circumstantial evidence. there's other options is what im saying. they could just be like. a guy. that's a sensible deduction. you should explore that deduction. ignore my shirt that reads I <3 RED HERRINGS.

i still think odile has the correct theory on lock but she's smart enough to know it needs like... a real smoking gun to be able to bring it up without sounding insane.

anyway. (mirabelle voice) i know its rude to speculate but has anyone else noticed the grieving? they seem to be grieving. does anyone have any thoughts on the grieving? i have some thoughts on the grieving.

[mxcrayon]

losing my actual mind rn

i had this interaction in the dropout discord (i am the first and third person). short. simple. i only got the first year bc of a discount + a gift card i had, so i was planning on using this person's suggestion.

then, i got this.

oh my god!! how nice!! how sweet!!! how thoughtful!! i gave them my email and they sent over a subscription, i thanked them profusely. i was very grateful, very touched.

hours and hours later i was still thinking about it and i recalled how, in the email id gotten about it, it said "tao yang sent you a subscription" and id seen that and thought "oh haha like the tao yang" and then moved on

but now, thinking back, i was like.... theres no way, so i googled tao yang.

......

TAO YANG BOUGHT ME A FUCKING ANNUAL DROPOUT SUBSCRIPTION

[imadhatt3r]

It kinda irks me when people call Black Mask "Truekechi", because that's not really the case...? Not entirely, at least.

I mean yes, of course, Black Mask IS a part of Akechi's personality, I'm not denying that. The thing is, that it isn't Akechi's WHOLE personality. This kid just went through the biggest crashout of his life, his whole plan he's been meticulously working on for years failed, and the worst part is that it didn't even lead to what he was after, so he didn't even get the revenge he wanted. Of course he's unstable and edgy, I mean, who wouldn't be?

That is not to say that his anger and edginess aren't a part of his "true self"; I'm sure that his glee at taking out shadows is absolutely real, for example, but I believe that it comes from him just being angry in general- at Shido, at Maruki, and at himself. Akechi is rough around the edges, has a short temper and has a tendency to look at others from above, but the situation he's in boosts these parts of his personality as a sort of defense mechanism.

I think that his mementos conversations give a really good insight into this too; Perhaps it's due to my older age compared to the characters in-game, but a lot of Akechi's lines feel so... Forced on his side? He's the one to bring up that other Thieves probably don't want to have him on the team, or that they're unsettled by how he fights, but nobody even said anything about it in the first place...? Even other characters seem kinda done with his act, either that or they accept him being on the team due to their shared goals; Some are even quite nice and friendly, all things considered. This just feels like Akechi's self-loathing twisting itself into this kind of quips because he himself doesn't want to get too comfortable on the team; He's scared of growing closer to the other Thieves, so he tries to keep them at arm's length. He can't just tell them "I think I'm a horrible person" straight up (his pride wouldn't let him), so he has to make himself "unappealing" in other ways.

There's also the other side of these conversations, where you can see him just... Being a kid. He whines about being hungry, or thirsty, or his legs getting stiff in the car, he talks about mundane things with other Thieves like graduation or sports... He's just a teenager as much as his teammates are- it's just that the others weren't hired as assassins at 15 and didn't grow up obsessed with the plan to kill their father. His emotional development and maturation process have clearly been impacted, on top of everything else he had to deal with. So he may act "adult" and more mature than others at first glance (at least before he reveals Loki), but inside he is just as much (if not more, in some aspects) of a kid as the other Thieves are. This means that he is still at the age and mental development level where he is still figuring out himself, who he is, what path to follow etc. It also means that he is prone to being overly dramatic, emotionally extreme, and have poor emotional control- you know, teen stuff.

The key to it all becomes his ultimate persona, Hereward. We all know that Akechi has two personas, but he doesn't get two ultimate personas, he gets only one. I think that it's symbolic of his psyche slowly melding itself into one again. It's not that either one of his "sides" was truly fake or real; Both the Detective Prince and Black Mask ARE parts of the "real" Akechi- it's just that he has been systematically compartmentalizing his whole self into two for YEARS. The awakening of his ultimate persona is him starting the process of healing and allowing these two sides of him to mix and reconnect back into one.

I honestly think that, with enough time and the right environment, Akechi's most extreme traits would even themselves out, and he would stop being AS short-tempered, snarky, and blood-thirsty as he is in the game. He will never be the perfectly plesant Detective Prince, but he also won't be the angry, self-loathing and vengeful Black Mask. He will be something new, something different, a fusion of the two opposite ends of his personality spectrum. Only then he will live as his fully true self.

[ar-mage-ddon]

pursuing the unknown

( EPHEMERWEEK 2: curiosity )

[quaranmine]

collapses on the floor and Dies

[fraternum-momentum]

yandere who's a clumsy killer and mc secretly helps him cause its cute how hard he's trying but he's so incompetent that they lowkey feel bad

[willyhoos]

you, and what little remains of your brother.

[umblrspectrum]

hi heres art so you pay attention to me now go read the tags

[merverelli]

"you just feel yourself let go."

still thinking about this episode. man. 💪💥

[starry-bi-sky]

watch me end up making a superdad au coz of WTNS

because!!! because i was thinking about how funny it is that Bruce's first two kids (Dick and Danny) would be superman fans, and how funny it would be if that influenced his opinion on Superman when they first met. And then I got to picking that apart, and how Danny's opinion and feelings on Superman would have the bigger impact on Bruce than Dick, since Dick's admiration for Superman (presumably) comes from the standard little kid "he's an alien and he can FLY" (and flying graysons) stuff. Which, while very very cute, is easy to ignore and disallow swaying feelings on.

But DANNY? It's not the same. While part of Danny's admiration comes from the same "holy shit he's an alien and can fly thats so COOL" vein, it also comes from a place of feeling deeply relatable to him. Both he and Superman were/are perceived as incredibly powerful, deeply dangerous creatures that are nigh impossible to stop, they have a handful of powers that are similar to one another, and they are (one of) the only ones of their kind. Superman is (one of) the last Kryptonian, Danny is (one of) the only Liminal in existence, and they might not be the same species but the principle remains the same and they're in the same boat.

As a result, Danny would just, god, he'd find so much relation in that. And yeah they're not the same but Superman would make him feel just a little less alone, a little more seen, and he'd find so much comfort in that.

And Bruce, by the time he meets Superman, would know by then about Danny's powers and his experiences and his time as Phantom and as a Liminal. And it's easy to ignore your kid's admiration for another Superhero when it stems from a place of plain hero worship or simple appreciation. It's harder to ignore it when your kid admires a Superhero because they make them feel seen and relate to them on a level you can't reach them on.

When that's the reason, how could he not think differently about Superman? When, by then, he's seen the scars left on Danny's body from all of his fights; when he's seen him cry and break down over never being able to fly again thanks to the blood blossom poison; when he's heard all about the struggles he faced with his powers, the fear he had about being found out, the fear he had when he was first developing them; and how he was ostracized by his city for his efforts just because he wasn't human, despite how much he was just trying to help.

How could he not look at Superman when they first meet, mask-to-mask, and have a little voice in the back of his mind go: 'my kid is a lot like you'

its making me emotional. if these feeligns persist im going to end up making a superdad au

[lucabyte]

Different standards

[dykemithrun]

squinting at them until they become lesbians again for my health. feat. wishing the work day was over

[sacredfixation]

Loki and the Deeply Valid Fear of Being a Government-Issued Android Without Knowing It

Imagine living for over a thousand years, committing intergalactic crimes, then one random underpaid TVA clerk with a monotone voice suddenly introduces the possibility that, oh, by the way, what if you were secretly a robot this whole time? And Loki, who has always carried himself with the absolute certainty of a god, pauses. Like. “Wait. What if I am?”

He hears that question and immediately does a full mental diagnostic. Have I ever glitched? Ever felt oddly mechanical? Experienced an unusual fondness for oil? Maybe he’s too good at lying. Too good at surviving. What if that’s just the programming?

The TVA worker just moves on. He doesn’t elaborate. no reassurances. theres no safety net. Just the terrifying possibility that he might get instantly vaporized for something completely outside his control.

Id like to note, his hesitation isn’t even just some random existential crisis, it’s trauma-informed. This man already lived through the experience of waking up one day and realizing he wasn’t who he thought he was.

He grew up thinking he was a prince, a god, Odin’s rightful son, only to find out he was actually a stolen relic of war. A Jotun. A creature he’d been taught to hate.

He thought he knew himself before, and he was wrong. What if he’s wrong again? What if theres something else about himself thats been hidden? If he didn’t realize he was a Frost Giant, whats stopping him from not realizing he’s actually some highly advanced synthetic being?

It’s not just a funny existential gag, it’s a callback to one of the most devastating truths of Loki’s existence:

He has never really known who he is.

It’s the muscle memory of having his entire identity ripped out from under him. It’s the learned fear of asking, What am I, actually?

Because the last time he asked that question, the answer ruined him.

[m1d-45]

will you promise that i'll see you again?

summary: your people refuse reason, and their damage refuses to heal. when it seems as if the whole world has left you, your dutiful knight still remains by your side.

word count: 2.3k

-> warnings: implied suicidal ideation (reader + unnamed side character), reader's previous deaths are mentioned in somewhat graphic detail

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @yuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept || @wanderersqt || @rozz-eokkk

< masterlist >

“you’re one of the only things keeping me going, you know.”

dainslef turned to you in surprise, the even neutrality to your tone a sharp contrast to the rapid pace of his heart. he wasn’t a fool, he knew that the hunt had to be taking a heavy toll on you, but this…

this was more than he expected.

he knew he was one of a pitiful few who saw through celestia’s false puppet, who knew you for you and not their mirage. he knew that the entire world was hellbent on erasing you from existence, that you’d been forced through your own death countless times as teyvat pulled you apart and pushed you back together far from the scene of your would-be murder. he saw the golden scars across your skin, the dried remains of blood lining the wounds you hadn’t been able to patch yet. he’d been the one to wash them away, not minding the refuse soaking into his gloves if it meant your hands could be clean.

he recognized the dull exhaustion in your eyes, the same as the ones he saw in the reflections of lakes. tired, worn, barely there, hanging on by one solitary string that was wound so tightly around a desperate hand.

you had always been his reason for continuing. when the traveller broke down and the ruler of the abyss hid from the sun, you were there. when the chasm’s mud clung to his boots and the memories in his head burned as nails forced between his eyes, you were there. his rosary was kept tight to his chest at all times, familiar prayers pulling him up in the morning and forcing him to sleep at night. he was alive for far, far too long, but you made it bearable. you were his duty, his promise.

he never once thought that he’d be yours. then again, he never thought that he’d have to defend you from the ones you once called friends. time never did pass how he expected it to.

“…leading light?”

you looked down, twirling blades of grass around your fingers. he had led you up to a mostly desolate area of sumeru, west of bayda harbor. it close enough to the sea, forest, and desert that you could reasonably make an escape through any of those routes if need be, while also providing a rather pleasant view. the sky was bleeding red and gold as the sun sank below the horizon, a remarkable sight that fell on blind eyes. there was no use trying to enjoy nature’s beauty when he still kept one hand on his sword and both ears pricked for the slightest sign of danger.

you shouldn’t have to worry about your safety. you shouldn’t have to prioritize based on how likely you are to get hurt, or how easily it would be to make an escape. you still flinched when the wind blew a little too quick, used to it heralding armored footsteps and battle cries. in another life, you were welcomed with open arms, able to enjoy yourself without constantly being on high alert. teyvat did what it could to adapt; the air was still, frozen in time, barely a bird chirping for miles. it was meant to be comforting, he thinks, but dead silence was more unnerving than any breeze.

“i mean it.” he could hear every shift in his cloak around your shoulders, the heavy fabric doing little to soothe your stress. it was yours more than it was his now, to the point he felt claustrophobic wearing it. how long had he been traveling with you? the days blurred.

“i don’t doubt you.” he never would. never could. he’s not sure, even if he somehow wanted to, that his body would allow him to treat your words as anything less than fact. “but i don’t understand what you mean.”

you were a god. the creator, the first, the one that shaped the sovereigns scales and laid the foundations of earth. you predated the archons, celestia, the very skies themselves…

and he, somehow, was a driving motivation for you?

his words must have been funny, a sharp laugh tumbling out of your mouth. it was bitter, humorless, and somewhat raspy. he made note to find some water for you later. “what else could i mean?” you turn to him, some of his confusion lost as your eyes found his. even this burnt out, deep bags set beneath them, you still managed to steal the very air in his lungs. “you’re the only reason i’m still here.”

he didn’t know what to say. what was there to be said, when you were you and he was him? when the world had abandoned you, it made sense you’d cling to what remained faithful. it was merely coincidence he happened to find you first, that’s all. coincidence that you trusted enough not to run from, coincidence that you allowed to care for your injuries. there was nothing to say, because you held nothing for him in particular, only leaning on him out of need. he had to believe that. what was he left with if that wasn’t true? an awkward truth hid beneath his well-known lies, too large for him to see the edges, let alone to contain.

“please… do not say such things again.” to ask of his god what he could not ask of himself was surely some form of heresy, as was willingly laying aside his guard when he was the only one who was tasked with protecting you. he pulled his attention from the tide below, from the rustling trees, holding faith that the world would not be needlessly cruel. he stepped forward, kneeling beside you. even up close, you still seemed painfully small. “it is your own resilience that has allowed you to persevere.”

it’s the earth that leads you from danger.

it’s the water that follows you wherever you go.

it’s the leylines that whisk you to safety.

it’s the wind that warns you of what’s to come.

it’s the you from the past that protects the you in the present.

it’s the you in the present that provides for the you in the future.

it’s you, from everywhere and everywhen, continuing to fight.

and yet you sigh. you look away, across the sea, tracing fontaines skyline. “it really isn’t. i was lucky to run into you when i did.”

you had just crossed the wall back into the forest, burning hot and shaking. he was the lucky one, in truth, to be able to pick your figure out from the sand below. perched on a high cliffside, even mitachurls were reduced to small brown flecks.

you had worn a cryo mage’s cloak, which was what initially drew his attention. abyss activity wasn’t uncommon in the area, but a cryo mage in the desert… that was cause for intrigue. he stepped forward and slid down the steep face in front of him, a slight puff of dust marking his landing in the desolate sand of old vanarana.

he didn’t know what to expect. you stumbled around the jagged remains of a tree, heading for the statue of the seven. he followed, only growing more confused. cryo and dendro did not react with each other, and there was no way to “slow” a statue. a scouting mission, maybe? but why a cryo mage, when pyro would have been far more advantageous in the case of an attack?

he leaned around the corner carefully, prepared for the sight of a staff or the chanting of abyssal magic filling the air. the entire world seemed to be holding its breath, frozen in place and waiting for some trigger to continue.

he saw none of that. you were collapsed at the foot of the statue, faint wheezing only making it to his ears by virtue of the standstill around him. you held no staff, commanded no magic, your chest barely moving with air.

he’d never seen a mage seek out the archons when dying. one hand squeezed the handle of his sword as he crept forward, ready to strike should the situation turn against him. the sand barely shifted beneath his feet, his own heart sounding too loud to his ears. you did not move, showing no signs that you had noticed his approach. he still didn’t trust it.

your cloak was tattered and torn, with thick gloves atypical of a mage. they reminded him more of hilichurl wraps, which was strange considering you wore no mask. your face was instead covered by what looked like eremite cloth, just as stained and dirtied as the rest of your clothes. what he could see looked almost human; in another life, he could believe you were a weary traveller, lost amidst the sand.

he was acting foolish. if the abyss had a human tool, he needed to figure out why. he reached down, undoing the sloppy knot of your veil and letting the brocade fall limply to the grass.

…grass. he blinked, eyes flickering between the ground and your face, not sure which was harder to believe. flowers had bloomed around you, protecting your body from the blazing sands, and he’d be a fool not to recognize the face plastered all over every bounty board.

he didn’t understand. if nothing else, he thought the archons would have enough respect for their creator to know when they were being lied to, yet before him was barely living proof of the inverse. sweat beaded along every inch of exposed skin, deep-set heat exhaustion burning you from the inside out. how could you be a threat? how could they be so blind?

he looked again, the shine of elemental sight straining his eyes, catching flickers of the dendro energy pouring from the statue. you were the only one the archons would feed. you were the only one to make the very earth break its own rules, allowing lotuses to bloom from barren soil. something painfully similar to rage threatened what remained of his rationality, and it took all he had to push it aside.

that didn’t matter. if he went off on some banal revenge quest, he’d be no better than them. your safety mattered more. he picked you up and set aside how calm his curse felt, beginning the trek back to his camp. behind him, the flowers already began to wither, losing their persistence without you to foster it.

perhaps that initial meeting was luck. but these was no luck involved in your trust in him. when you woke up and saw him at your side, you chose to trust him. you chose to believe that he was not like the others, that he would protect you, and he was forever grateful for that trust. nobody could fault you for being angry, for being spiteful about what you were put through and choosing to lash out. nobody would have the right to be upset if you chose to vent your wrath against those that had hurt you.

but you didn’t. you chose, again and again, to believe in the world. you chose to let them live their lives, even if it meant getting hurt again in the process. you chose a quiet life traveling with him over the comfortable life on your throne. to willingly choose to travel with a disgraced knight to spare your people guilt… he couldn’t decide if it was noble or reckless. either way, he was selfishly happy that he was the one to stay by your side.

“i won’t try to convince you. but, please.. do not give up on yourself so easily.” i know far too many who have died by the same hand. “the world and its opinion does not define you. only you get to decide where fate leads.”

you lean towards him, and he thinks you might have passed out- but no, your head lands on his shoulder with far too much precision. he stiffens, not used to existence without a constant pain beneath his skin. “how motivational. you tell all your soldiers that?”

his heart is beating too quickly, thoughts unusually hard to grasp. you’re the only one who could have this effect on him. he only wished it wasn’t now, when your belief in yourself was on the edge. “i mean it. none of this is your fault, and neither are celestial actions the people’s fault. i know that you are hurt, but i don’t want you to accept that main needlessly. you shouldn’t have to view your creation with such pain.” slowly, carefully, he raises the hand closer to you, doing his best not to disturb you as he settles it on your arm. he’s can only hope that the contact brings you as much comfort as it does him. “if nothing else, believe me. promise you’ll at least try.”

he doesn’t think you’ll agree. why would you make a promise to one who represents the heaven’s betrayal? why would you let him hold you close at all, when you can surely sense the bindings of those who tried to kill you wrapped tightly around his soul? he doesn’t know. all he can do is hope.

“…alright, dainslef. i promise.”

twilight has long since fallen, and yet he smiles for the first time in centuries.

[sporesgalaxy]

someday i will be brave enough to talk to my gay uncle about being gay and maybe it will fix me