#subtle metaphors

[apocalypticink]

01001010.

We fight tiny wars

Over shrinking bits of land

Crabs in a bucket.

We don't stand a chance with them,

So we turn on each other

[mehrfh]

An Unwavering Feeling of Uncertainty

There is something cute yet sad about the way Mao² doesn't avert her gaze from Jinshi even after getting interrupted in this scene. She has suffered and the previous scene with Shisui broke her, so to have someone so familiar, so comforting, someone you did not even think would be there must be heavy. My poor girl suffered a lot which is evident by this slight disbelief in her unwavering gaze. Honestly, Shisui gently closing the door on MaoMao in her exit and Jinshi breaking down the same door to re-enter her life is poetry for those who seek.

This subtlety is what LN readers are looking for, especially given the way they both suffered.

Shi clan arc was the threshold for both of them to unravel, go past the hesitancy and insecurity of what they believe about themselves. Afterwards what we see is the growth of their characters.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Sublime Equine.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[14dayswithyou]

what is ren's schedule for the 28th? 💚☔️🩷

if it's not too much of a spoiler can i ask what the most fucked up thing that can happen involving our pretty boy? is totally ok if you can't answer this!

⌞♥⌝ Wahhh asking me for the most fucked up events feels a bit subjective (as it all depends on the person), but I will say that—

CW: 14DWY spoilers under the cut!! Also minor depictions of gore, torture, etc.

Depending on the Decay meter and everyone's affinity points, the player can potentially unlock a scene where Ren will literally carve off another character's face and wear it like a second skin. (He just wants to be Angel's ideal type, after all!! ^^)

And depending on the Decay and Purity meter, there's also another unlockable scene where Angel can essentially dehumanise(?) Ren and treat him like a wild animal T_T He'll sleep in a cage (or on the floor like in day 1 ghshjg), eat whatever scraps Angel feeds him, and kinda just?? act like how he would around his father in hopes of appeasing them.

I've also mentioned this a few times before, but there will also be an unlockable cannibal scene, a torture scene (Angel is not the one being tortured /gen), a red room scene, and your basic Room Tour After Getting Kidnapped scene <3 But I feel like they're all kinda self-explanatory, so I won't delve further kgjdfjgj

But, again, these are just some things that I personally consider to be the tiniest bit fucked up. However, others might have differing opinions once the full game is published, and I also don't want to reveal everything that will be in the game, as I feel like that takes away the fun of blindly experiencing something for the first time.

Also!! I want to reiterate once more that all these scenes (except one) are conditional and dependent on the player's choices! You can 100% go down a pacifist route where Ren is a Normal Guy With Normal Intentions — and you won't ever be pressured into making certain choices either. At its core, 14DWY is a game that shapes itself around the player's tastes and interests...

...Much like Ren.

[lucabyte]

So does anybody else ever think about how Loop felt the need to demonstrate that the party's deaths wouldn't have any effect on the loops. I know I do but that's besides the point. Anyway I don't think Loop actually needs to bathe, they just like to feel included.

[natade-art]

some thoughts on my new hobby which is making the metaphor tribes weirder more distinct

[aventurineswife]

The Language of Flowers

Tags: Sunday x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Jing Yuan x Reader, Blade x Reader, Fluff & Angst, Romance, Introspection, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Symbolism, Metaphors, Emotional Depth, Established Relationship/Developing Relationship, Soft & Subtle Gestures of Affection.

Warnings: Mentions of Trauma, Survivor’s Guilt, Internal Conflict, Moral Dilemmas, Philosophical Themes, Themes of Immortality & Loss, Mild Manipulation, Mentions of Violence, Combat References, Yearning, Emotional Suppression.

Tagslist: @smoochi-modest, @themiddletenmasibling

The clematis flower sat between Sunday’s fingers, its violet petals softly brushing against his glove as he studied it in quiet contemplation. You watched as his eyes traced the delicate veins running through each petal, the navy-blue pupils reflecting something distant—something that lingered between the past and the present.

"You brought me clematis," he mused, voice gentle as ever. "A flower that speaks of resilience and artifice. Do you believe me to be a man of deception or of ingenuity?"

You hesitated before answering, sensing the weight in his question. "Neither," you admitted. "Or perhaps both. The way you see the world, Sunday… it's different. You find beauty where others see illusions, and yet you fear the dreams you once nurtured. I suppose this flower reminds me of you—always reaching, always entwining with something just out of grasp."

Sunday’s wings fluttered, an unspoken emotion stirring behind his composed mask. "I have spent so long questioning whether my dreams were worth the cost," he murmured. "But you…" His fingers curled slightly around the stem. "You offer me a kindness I do not know if I deserve."

You reached for his hand, your warmth seeping through the fabric of his gloves. "And yet, you accept it," you said softly. "That’s a start, isn’t it?"

For the first time in a long while, Sunday smiled—not for the world, not for an ideal, but for himself.

Aventurine twirled the clematis flower between his fingers, his usual smirk playing on his lips. "So, let me get this straight," he drawled, leaning back against the lavish lounge seat, "you’re giving me a flower that symbolizes both ingenuity and trickery? Darling, I’m flattered. Truly."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. "I just thought it suited you. The way you weave your words, how you always seem to be three steps ahead of everyone else… It reminded me of you."

His eyes glinted as he leaned forward, closing the space between you. "And here I was thinking you liked me for my winning personality," he teased, plucking the flower from your grasp and tucking it into the lapel of his blazer. "But I suppose I'll take what I can get."

You crossed your arms, feigning exasperation. "Must everything be a game with you?"

His expression shifted, just for a moment—a flicker of something unspoken beneath the bravado. "Life is a gamble," he murmured. "And the trick is knowing which bets are worth the risk."

His fingers brushed against yours, lingering just long enough to send a thrill through your veins.

"And you," he whispered, voice quieter, more sincere, "are the one bet I don’t mind losing."

Jing Yuan’s eyes traced the clematis flower nestled in his palm, its delicate form a stark contrast to the battle-worn hands that held it. The gentle rise and fall of Snowmoon’s slumbering breaths filled the quiet garden as you sat beside him, watching his contemplative expression.

"A flower of mental strength and artifice," he mused, tilting the stem slightly as though testing its resilience. "You must think rather highly of me."

You chuckled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "More like I know you, Jing Yuan. You carry the weight of the Xianzhou with such ease, making it look effortless—even when I know it isn’t."

A slow, knowing smile curved his lips. "Ah, so I am a performer now, am I?"

"In a way," you admitted. "But there’s an artistry in what you do—maintaining peace, guiding your people… it’s not deception, but it requires a certain kind of ingenuity, don’t you think?"

Jing Yuan hummed, turning the flower between his fingers before tucking it carefully into the folds of his coat. "Then I accept this gift," he said, "as a reminder that even a man of strategy must appreciate the beauty of unpredictability."

His gaze softened as he looked at you, the warmth in his expression melting away the distance between you. "And," he added, voice lower, "as a reminder that even the dozing general must stay awake for the things that truly matter."

Blade’s fingers hovered over the clematis flower you had placed before him, the deep violet petals stark against the cold surface of the table. His red eyes flickered toward you, unreadable.

"You think this suits me?" he asked, voice devoid of mockery, yet tinged with something akin to disbelief.

You nodded. "The flower represents mental strength and ingenuity. Both things you have, whether you believe it or not."

Blade exhaled slowly, picking up the flower with deliberate care. "Strength," he murmured. "And deception. I have known both intimately."

You reached across the table, resting your hand over his. "Not deception," you corrected. "Artifice. The ability to create something from nothing—to survive, even when the universe has tried to erase you."

His grip on the flower tightened slightly. "I am not whole," he admitted, a rare confession from a man who had long since discarded the need for such vulnerabilities.

"You don’t have to be," you whispered. "Even a clematis vine blooms with fractured stems."

Blade stared at you for a long moment, then, slowly, he brought the flower to his chest, resting it against his heart.

"Then perhaps," he said at last, "I can learn to bloom again, too."

[Navigation]

[nuclearconsole]

a severely underdone aspect within exploring the lone wanderer's story imo is the inevitable catholic religious guilt of enacting what they do within the wasteland that stems from their time living at vault 101.

like even with good karma lws the palpable shame of murdering must be all consuming

[bluemantics]

JULANCE DAY 12: UNDERCOVER

These days, it feels like Lance is constantly pretending. To the team, he’s the same old Lance from before Keith’s stint in leadership. He cracks inappropriate jokes, welcomes any chance he can get in the spotlight. Any distraction.

It’s a thin veneer. In reality, he’s never felt more detached from the team. After Keith left, Lance began to notice some… changes in the newly-returned Shiro. Which, of course, would be reasonable. If not for the strange way he’d been acting.

Before, Lance never disagreed with Shiro. Ever. Shiro was a shining beacon of intellect and wisdom to rookie Lance, above all criticism. Now that he feels brave enough to enter leader discussions, though, he tries to give his two cents on strategy. He’s really become fond of sitting at the small table with Allura and Keith or swiping quickly over star charts while they listened to his ideas. For all his flaws as a leader, when Keith leaned forward and unblinkingly watched Lance, he really knew how to make him feel heard.

It doesn’t go that way with Shiro.

“Lance, why are you here?”

The simple utterance knocks a crack in his newly-forged armor. He clears his throat. “As red paladin, I usually helped out during pre-battle discussions with Allura and Keith.”

Allura nods, pleasantly gesturing for Lance to join them at the table. Reluctantly, the red paladin sits by her, keeping a careful eye on Shiro. “Lance has truly stepped up in your absence alongside Keith in a way we couldn’t have ever predicted. Keith and I trusted his counsel often, and usually that resulted in great success.”

“Wow. Thanks, Princess,” Lance replies honestly. Warmth blooms behind his ribs, relieved to have some support.

“Alright,” Shiro agrees, hands stiff on the table.

The meeting is a disaster. Shiro shares a plan that Lance really can’t get behind, with formations that place them inside civilian centers rather than at the edges of them. He listens thoughtfully as the older man explains his rationale: Galra troops have been known to invade from all angles, and according to Shiro, it’s simpler if they form a circle and let the Galra come to them at the center. Politely, Lance shares a gentle objection; he’s concerned that the civilians won’t all be able to evacuate in time, and that the formation will cause increased public damage.

“Soldier, I don’t recall asking for your approval.”

His words are sharp. They leave no room for doubt. And yet, Lance can’t help but pushing, confused at the strangeness of his words.

“I just think—“

“You’re not the person we turn to for thinking, are you?”

It’s colder than Lance has ever heard Shiro. Wrong. His gut twists, rejection stinging like a physical blow. Even Allura looks aghast.

“Sorry, Shiro.” He plasters on a respectful expression and slightly inclines his head.

He doesn’t return to leadership meetings after. Lance isn’t like Keith, stubborn and demanding in face of dismissal. Especially not from Shiro, the man from his posters, who made him believe in heroes.

Then comes The Voltron Show. In all his memory, Lance cannot remember hating a stage as much as he hates this one. Traveling across the galaxy, riding on their universe-saving fame while doing nothing for it, he feels like an utter joke. Because he is one. Loverboy Lance! Come see him spin and flirt and drink up attention like it’s ambrosia, powerful enough to save him until it burns him up from the inside out, makes him golden and rotten just for you! It’s all so fake that it makes him actually vomit, one night.

An alien had asked for his signature. Lance scribbled it with a paintbrush they handed him, but in reality, he was entirely not there. His hands tingled and his body and brain almost felt as if they were splitting apart, as though he’d watched the scene from above.

“Thank you so much for all you do!” the alien chirped.

What does he do? Lance doesn’t strategize, doesn’t even fire so much as a warning shot, lately. He’s just a face. A symbol, and a boring one at that.

He smiles, thanks them, and rushes back to his bathroom to grab at his toilet. At 17, Lance would have killed to have this much fame. Convinced that fame was an achievement, he sought it desperately, believing that being known meant he was worthy.

Now, a year later, he’s all too aware of how cheap fame can be. Fame means nothing after seeing blood and heartbreak and war. Being known by millions is worth so much less when the people who matter people aren’t looking.

Hunk and Pidge don’t note his change in mood. It’s not their faults, really. Coran is running them all ragged with routine prep, and Hunk and Pidge have the extra awful task of coordinating special effects. They’re both practically dead on their feet whenever they cross paths with Lance.

Therefore, it’s no surprise that he gets closer with Allura. Who else does he have? Both of them are distantly moored without ports. Coran is far too distracted to notice her, and Lance… he’s missing some people, too. They discuss everything with each other. Lance missed having someone to confide in, but Allura is perfect for the job, kind and judgmental in an easy balance. Allura admits that she hates playing Keith, how she just wants to be herself. Lance has to agree— it’s incredibly awkward to witness her trying to play a part so obviously at odds with her and with Keith alike. She’s become a facsimile of herself. It’s a sentiment Lance can relate to, and he shares as much, relieved at her understanding.

Show after show after show. Faux grin after false flirtation after ostentatious lies. Lance plays his part and plays it well.

He wonders if Keith is making a difference with the Blade. Finally, he went somewhere Lance couldn’t chase him to. Bitterly, Lance wonders if that was the point, and tries to put him out of his mind entirely.

As far as anyone watching in the universe will know, Lance is doing wonderfully. He’s Loverboy Lance! Flashy. Dazzling. Shiny.

Unrecognizable.

[cosmic-espero]

I won't lie Will is a much better person than me because imagine hanging out with himbo extraordinaire Leon Strohl Da Haliaetus under the starry night sky only for him to gift you a seashell bracelet, which by the way later turns out to be culturally associated to romance by the Mustari because your supposed canon love interest literally gives you another shell with a similar function and describes it as a gift wives give their husbands.

And then he tells you he likes you.

And right as you're already planning a summer wedding, the motherfucker adds "like a brother".

Like, I would've ended up on the news.

[pastaxandria]

The Red Thread: Chapter 163

The Library of Pastaxandria has recorded for its archives: Chapter 163 of The Red Thread.

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Chapter Summary:

"The person I'm tracking… It has to do with Project Beagle." You grimaced as Matt abruptly straightened next to you, his inhale sharp and startled. "I'm looking for the brother of my old handler. Anthony, from the journals. He might be hiding in Queens, according to S.H.I.E.L.D.. His brother's lived there for decades, and they think he's stashed Anthony somewhere. If I can find the brother… I find Anthony." Silence hung heavy in the air, thick and heavy as a shroud. Then Matt blew out a slow breath, letting go of you so he could scrub his hands down his face. "Shit," he said softly.

Wordcount: 7.6k

Warnings for this chapter: for once this chapter is ENTIRELY SAFE, I even added some extra cuddles for all of you, and there is a WONDERFUL CAMEO I have been waiting to get to at this point in my outline, so go forth!

Read me on AO3 where Matt's suddenly realizing there might be too many things going on for him to handle all of it

[apocalypticink]

00010010.

Outside, looking in,

I longed so hard to be them.

Tore my heart in two,

Then rebuilt myself like them:

Hurts sometimes but it's worth it.

[darklight-owl]

"Mom, why did you give birth to me?" "To survive." how did this exchange come out of a shonen anime. The shonen genre is known for being sexist as Hell how does this one just Get It.

[peekychu]

Callout post for Timmy, saw him playing pretend as a bully with other kids on the playground :/ Timmy and his friends may insist that he’s not ACTUALLY a bully, but the fact that he wants to be one is telling enough. Timmy should rot in prison and I deserve a gold star 💛

[byfulcrums]

GODDD the superman movie is so good. yes there were things i didn't like about it (the house of el being evil :(( specifically clark's parents. i pray they change that in the supergirl movie, because it just doesn't fit) but it is overall a good movie with a wonderful message. it's a movie that fully captured who superman is, as a character — and it showed him as good, but not good because he personified it; good as in, a person who is trying his best. just a regular guy, who just so happens to have more power than anyone else. not only superman, but also clark kent. it sends the message of hope, and tells you: you can do this too

[mollysunder]

The one thing I don't understand about the theory where Piltover and Zaun are teaming up to fight Noxus in the end, is why are Vi and Ekko flying towards Jinx's supposed airship if they're on the same team? Why does Vi NEED to confront Jinx in the middle of a warzone?

We see Ekko in garb that looks like he's on Jinx's side, but we mostly see him with the Firelights in those scenes, and they not decorated in Jinx's colors. Even minor background characters that are on Jinx/Sevika's side have a pink X on the right side of their chest. The Firelights are completely free of any graffiti or markers that would identify them with Jinx, and Vi is in an enforcer uniform. We don't see any other Zaunites in the crowd, but for some reason Vi and Ekko are centering their concentration on Jinx.

I think what's happening is that Ambessa's forces are fighting against Piltover's enforcers, but Jinx isn't helping, she's taking advantage of the chaos. Jinx is probably in Piltover to do something big that Piltover can't defend against since they're preoccupied with Noxus. Jinx will probably think the fight between Noxus and Piltover is the best opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. Vi and Ekko will probably object, they'll say her plan goes too far, and it'll get people killed. The whole scenario will probably be a more extreme mirror to whatever the Silco flashback will reveal about what went down on the Day of Ash and why Vander tried to kill Silco, except this time with magic.