#and I will continue to make shitposts until I die

[androgynouscatwasteland]

[acid-ixx]

i would not survive wayne manor if i had to stare into dick's y/n blue orbs everyday

stop looking at me with those eyes! (again &. again mini drabble)

ft. post-kidnapped reader w/ yandere batfam shitpost

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

— masterlist ! ; related post !

thank u for sending this oh my god, i need to write about this!!! i absolutely love your art style for the reader, they're so handsome i'm crying and laughing 😭😭😭 and it's true!!! i will also die if i look at the entire family's eyes as a filipino who has never once stared at a foreigner's eyes because it's just so bright huhu.

unfortunately for your case though, your refusal to look straight at them just translates to extra unwanted counseling sessions with the family in one of the large expanses of the living rooms housing the available members for a meeting. it's a whole gathering where you're the center of attention.

and it's not only dick involved, it's also all the other blue-eyed bastards and an additional glowering, pair of green ones which shines the brightest of them all— and if not for cass and duke's dark colored peepers, you might've truly passed away because it's no joke that their eyes glint under the light passing through locked windows, especially when the sun is at its highest peak and hits at just the right angles to glisten.

not only have you no physical escape, but their obsessed stares never leave your form too, devouring and locking you whole in your place and claustrophobic to the chains of their bright-orbed gaze.

"(name), dear, as much as you don't wish for me to address the issue; it's becoming an unhealthy habit that you refuse to maintain eye contact with the family. it doesn't help that your heart palpitates, you perspire more often, and you make excuses to run to a different room when you do. what's wrong?"

you don't even have to look up from staring at your lap (as if you want to, hah!) to know it's your father's voice directed at you. it's a unique tremor that reverberates across the room and commands attention from all corners; yet when he speaks to you, it's coated with an unhealthily sweet reverence that seems completely foreign to someone who has never once spoken to him until now.

"u-uhm..." stuttering, you bite your lip, drowning in your own self-preservation that had you ignoring dick's stealthy steps to your seated body on the couch, only for his fingers to carefully graze on your chin, snapping you out of your attention yet being too late as he lifts your head up, forcing to stare at his wide-blown eyes.

they're unnaturally bright today, shining more than the beaches in those private islands bruce owns, it's even more terrifying that he's staring at you.

"it's unfair too... baby bird, that it's me you avoid the most," he groans, it grates at your ears but it was better to focus on your other senses if you wish to control the ever-living fear of miley cyrus' blue eyes burned right into your retina, now associated with dick's emboldened ones. his palms find its way to either side of your head, cradling it side to side, the contact forced you to continue staring ahead of him. and no matter how much you resort to blanking out, the intensity of his baby blue eyes forfeits you to focus on anything else.

yet it's the gentle graze on your side that encourages you to speak your mind, you really hate how infantilizing this entire scene feels, and comical that they're - dick - is taking your excuses too seriously.

"ah... well—" how do you explain that you're shit at eye-contact because, first, and can't deal with their luminescent stares pinning you down to your spot, brighter than diamonds and emerald crystals, second?

"everyone's just too... you know. i- i really can't explain without it sounding... uhm..."

"too overwhelming? too what? akhi/akhti? it has been years since we last took you in, and you've been perfectly communicating with us until now. what has changed? has that rebel, todd, dare to make another deal with you again which involves refusing to properly communicate with us? with me? because if he did—"

damian's voice slithers with conviction, condemnation and possessive threats that strike fear into your heart with every venom-laced word. if not for his head nuzzling into the shadows of your neck, the dichotomy of dialogue and action, you would've been convinced he's out to kill you instead.

yet the same gremlin muttering insults is your little brother who takes the entire space beside you on the velvety couch, rendering you completely cornered by his expecting glare. except now, unlike the mental torment he subjected to you, his green-eye gaze glimmers with concealed adoration you've learned to discern, he's always been a heckler for your attention; the tan hands wrapped around your waist in a snuggle tightens, not too tight that it deprives you of oxygen, but demands your answers instead.

like father, like son. as the saying goes. always finding solutions with unwanted affection. couldn't even push them away without them interpreting your actions as rebellion which only results in more uncomfortable competitions on who gets to cuddle you for longer.

and wait, no, they didn't take you in, bullshit! they basically kidnapped you. it's only that you've grown accustomed to dealing with them individually and as a group, but because they've been more lenient with technology, providing you access to wifi with supervised search results, you stumbled across one of , which not-so faintly reminds you of them.

your past traumas of them replaced with jaded motivation to survive and tolerate the ever living plague in your life you call your family.

bruce did advise you to associate them with positive things instead as a first step to your adjusting phase, and miley cyrus' anthropoidal, not-quite human stare isn't negative in any way, yet it's also by no means negative, if not unsettling— which leads you to a common ground, a common affiliation which helps you cope with the fear that they might harm you and isolate you with loneliness even further; forgetting your presence once again.

learning to love them was hard, so relating them to anything comical was way easier on the still-heavy burden in your heart which yearns for freedom burned off through countless of escape attempts, the grief of your mother's death now decades worth, and just the shock of it all that they're still interested in you until now that hasn't worn off still, despite the years passing by quicker than blowing off a candle-light.

still, everyone retains their gaze on you, never once breaking contact with your form as if you're capable of escaping their grasp. you try to look down, but to no avail, dick was too invested in hogging your head all to himself and nuzzling it in his toned stomach, whilst damian refuses to separate from his ever tightening hold which renders you unable to full grasp your thoughts and speak.

god-damned hypocrites.

"holy shit..." it's tim who broke off the silence, muttering under his breath in disbelief whilst his hand fiddles with the modded tablet bruce had given you as a christmas gift. his lanky finfers continue scrolling eyes fixated on the scene before him, every expression illuminated by the faint glow of your tablet's screen. the most visible feature, gazing at him through whichever was left of your vision unobstructed by dick's body; was of course, his widening blue eyes, as it seems like he'd hit jackpot with his appalled reactions.

it seems like he found the exact same picture.

would it be a bad thing now if you'd run away from the room once they all collectively hone in on the image before them? or is it too risky of a task?

honestly, with just how routine your life must be right now, you'd prefer to run, to feel the air run through your hair, to bask in the sun washing your body in its warmth.

maybe to find unbidden joy in another game of cat and mouse, or it may be another one of your excuses to avoid those piercing eyes once more if even by just a mere fraction.

or maybe you could stay for now, because is it just you, or did you actually succeed in traumatizing them for once instead of you?

[gynandromorph]

Does only the part of the story in the book actually "exist" within the Canon lore? Like did events before the book, like the side comics you've made or speculation on character's backstories, actually "happen" in-universe?

idletry exists across 2 books so the story itself already exists between discrete chunks of media. things that happen in side comics literally happened in the story. however, they happen outside of the narrative of idletry and sometimes without the narrator's (jessie's) knowledge. this is the tl;dr.

stories are a structured string of focalized events presented with the expectation that what is being presented is relevant to a unifying conclusion. anything that is not necessary to reach that conclusion should not be included. in best practice. so with that in mind, events in side comics may accentuate or elevate the story, but they aren't necessary, and thus aren't included in the narrative itself. idletry specifically refers to this narrative -- the contents of the books. idletry's universe is larger than that narrative. this is most evident in the fact that the audience assumes things happen with the characters that they don't see. when spring becomes fall very suddenly, the reader doesn't assume the characters went into stasis or stopped existing until fall (even this would assume that any time at all had taken place rather than the entire setting changing instantly). they assume things happened, but that they don't need to know about those things, because they are unimportant.

what counts as canon is... incredibly contentious, depending on who you're talking to. some people believe anything that happens outside of the story's text itself is not canon, even if the author said it. this has practical purposes for evaluating the text's quality, but most people just want a hill to die on, because it is feasible to sometimes include and exclude relevant information within an analytical framework when interpreting a story. it has, up until recently, worked relatively well as a belief about canon, though, because it used to be that most literary works ONLY had the text of the novel as their canon. there was no twitter for the author to write extra useless tidbits about the story. this didn't necessarily apply to series, so it wasn't unheard of for "living canon" to exist.

basically, things exist in the canon once they are written. things don't exist in their reality until that point, even if we assume those things happened. even though we assume that time passed in between spring and fall, they literally didn't. there was nothing. the characters may later reference something that happened in between spring and fall, and then it happened. that did not exist in the canon until the moment it was written in some form, though. the event formed retroactively. i've tried explaining how their reality works before and it seemed to just confuse people. it is not supposed to make sense in a logical causative chronological sense. there is a cause for the canon: it's the writer. there is no such translation for events in our reality. the story is very much trying to force you to be aware of how it's working and what doesn't "make sense" in narrative convention, in the way our minds form meaning and make assumptions. so, when i say, "yeah that thing typed onto a tumblr shitpost is literally canon," it can be. because it was literally written. i do try to avoid being so black-and-white with text posts about the characters and canon because things change. sometimes you forget some small detail in the established canon in the moment, and you would have noticed and fixed it in a longer production like a book. what serves the narrative best ultimately is what becomes canon. i wouldn't say a text post about, say, evelyn's mother is NOT canon, but i have usually called it "soft canon." i'm of the belief that canon (and continuity) have a hierarchical nature to them where some parts of canon are "more canon" than others -- some parts are more integral to the narrative's structure, identity, etc. than others. things that happen in idletry are the highest grade of canon. in a contradiction between something literally in idletry and a shitpost, it should always be assumed that the events in idletry are the actual canonically true events that agree with the other events of the canon and their unifying purpose.

i've wanted to make a post for years about my thoughts on story continuity, but i never got around to it. it just didn't seem that important. the closest i've done is a list of more and more extreme continuity errors -- highlighting that some continuity errors are more dire than others.

i noticed the stain drawn on the note card and the extended notes on the hand i'm about to start crying--

don't know how much of this has made sense. maybe on a better day i would have been less wordy.

[cleolinda]

Re: Couch fucking

Since people saw “JD Vance fucked a couch” mentioned in the “Tampon Tim: He’ll stop the red wave” post and went “What? JD Vance fucked a couch?,” no, he did not fuck a couch in his youth. The rumor was started by a random shitpost on the service I will continue to call Twitter until the heat death of the universe:

(Archived by Snopes, now view-limited by the author)

@rickrudescalves

can't say for sure but he might be the first vp pick to have admitted in a ny times bestseller to fucking an inside-out latex glove shoved between two couch cushions (vance, hillbilly elegy, pp. 179-181)

7:58 PM • Jul 15, 2024 • 1.8M Views

No draft or edition of Vance’s book Hillbilly Elegy ever said any such thing, but the inclusion of page numbers made “JD Vance fucked a couch” look very truthy (file this away as a tactic to look for in other propaganda you see). Neither Vance nor the Trump campaign can fully deny this because that would only draw more attention to the concept of “Vice presidential candidate JD Vance fucked a couch.” In great frustration, a campaign spokesman has finally said,

"We're not going to talk about couches or coconuts or whatever weird fetish KamalaHQ is into. When we have something to say, we'll say loud and clear. If Kamala is a coward, we'll call her a coward. If Tim Walz is a liar, we'll call him a liar.”

JD Vance then proceeded to lie about Tim Walz’s 24-year military record, calling it “stolen valor.”

As much as people enjoyed Walz’s quip that he would love to debate Vance if Vance would be “willing to get off the couch,” I do agree that Democrats should not stoop to such Republican tactics as (off the top of my head)

Telling lies about presidential candidate John Kerry’s military service (which inspired the general term “swiftboating” “to describe an unfair or untrue political attack”)

Claiming that then-presidential candidate Barack Obama was born in Kenya and not an American citizen, which would disqualify him, leading to an entire “birther” movement headed by Donald Trump

Accusing Democrats of trafficking children in the basement of a pizza parlor that had no basement, leading one man who sincerely believed this to “[travel] to Comet Ping Pong to investigate the conspiracy and [fire] a rifle inside the restaurant to break the lock on a door to a storage room during his search”

Claiming that North American schools keep kitty litter on hand for students who “identify as cats,” a “joke” meant to target protections for transgender students

And, as mentioned, splitting hairs over exactly what rank Tim Walz had vs what he retired at, elevating this to a far more serious accusation of stolen valor. In fairness, this is probably revenge for the couch thing.

So yes, I agree, we shouldn’t use the same tactics that the Republicans have been using for decades. It’s tasteless and it does not make us look better. I would perhaps remind you of the saying “Live by the sword, die by the sword,” but yes, we should stop confusing people into thinking that JD Vance fucked a couch. No couch was ever fucked by JD Vance. I endorse this message.

[syn4k]

🌿

unfortunately the only way to solve not wanting to create things is to not create things until you want to create things again.

"but Six!" i hear you protest over the angry yells of all my followers. "that can't be true! i hate that!"

i hate it too. But listen up you self loathing chucklefucks this is IMPORTANT.

if your brain and body is telling you that you are tired and that you need to take a break, fucking listen to them. Do not ignore them and continue making things anyways.

I do not give a fuck about your making one thing per day streak. I do not give a fuck about your follower count or engagement or statistics or whatever the fuck. I do not fucking care how stubborn you are. This rule is set in the laws of the universe itself just like the laws of physics are.

If you do not schedule time for yourself to recharge, your body will automatically do it for you and it WILL NOT ASK POLITELY.

that's what burnout and writer's block IS! you cant make shit if you're too fucking tired and depressed and busy trying to function as a person and don't have any energy left over for creative work! creating things takes ENERGY and EFFORT even the most self loathing low quality shitpost stick figure youve ever doodled on the back of an napkin. That takes effort too. This is your body realizing that you're going past your own limits despite everything and forcibly shutting you down so that you physically fucking cannot anymore for your own health.

Full stop.

If you take the time that you need to rest and regain energy and use it instead to continue doing things that require energy, your body will force you to allocate that time to rest at some point eventually.

So yeah. Sleep in hard over the weekends. Do nothing. Be unproductive. Fuck capitalism and FUCK the Protestant work ethic. I am being so fucking serious right now. This isn't just me repeating what I've heard, this is me sharing things that I've had to learn the hard way over the span of literal fucking years because my dumb ass kept ignoring it too.

You are allowed to, and encouraged to, politely turn down outings with friends and family if you're too tired.

You are allowed to, and encouraged to, take a day off from school or work if you wake up and know in your bones that you are too tired. (Make sure to let your teachers know beforehand. They'll understand. Skipping a day of work is a whole nother can of radioactive horses that I don't want to open right now but others here may have advice. Check the notes.)

You are allowed to, and encouraged to, do nothing.

You are allowed to, and encouraged to, be "lazy" (if you're not enjoying the forced time off, you're not being lazy).

If you can only do the bare minimum to take care of yourself (i.e making low-effort meals, only using the bathroom twice a day, etc) then that's okay too. The more you rest, the more energy you'll slowly build up to do more things like going to the grocery store so that you don't starve and getting those assignments done and taking an extra two minutes to make yourself a glass of something warm in the mornings so that you don't want to die quite as much. Also, when you can, ask your friends for a script and call your doctor about prescribing you depression medication because I love you and this is not normal and you deserve better.

Living life is not supposed to make you want to die, and surviving is not the same as living.

your body has a built in hierarchy of needs and at the top of the list is creating things, which you can only do once you're at a certain level of energy and wellness. if something's wrong, your drive to create will be the first to go.

it's scary, but you'll be okay

be gentle and kind to yourself. imagine that your brain and body is a horse: kicking it when it's down and yelling at it to move won't help. you have to meet it where it's at and feed it and comfort it until it's ready to move on again. you can't write trail songs if you've got no path to roam

this quickly spiraled out of my hands but i am very passionate about this subject and also i love u. good luck.

[cconfusedkat]

(shaking hands, functioning on three iced coffees, not beta read we just die) (LIL BRO TREATING THIS LIKE AO3Anyways yeah i did not read anything i typed here a second time so my wording might Suck Major Kuss)

Hey chat! sorry my holiday depression unfortunately kicked in, i had a ,, relatively decent Eid (cuz i dont celebrate christmas) ...? so i hope everyone had a relatively better holiday than i did… 💦

My friends often tell me i look like my art and i kinda see it. Hooray! Meeting the artist! Except i took matters into my own hands of making my own collage because I Do Not Have Enough Storage Space For Any Other Editing App

Additional shitpost ❤️ the art I've been most proud of are not actually in here, really! I'm mainly proud of the fanart i made for the few smiling critters AU's aaaall the way back feb-march but. I guess the stuff i liked the most i did this year was probably for the one who wilts? Im trying to think of stuff earlier than that. I noticed i definitely had an improvement in art, and i learned i do have a preference of drawing certain ways now too lmao- the fun of art! I hope to improve more in 2025 :-)

Herm,, all jokes aside, im glad people like my art...?? I am not a very Secure artist myself (already taking me five minutes to type that out and consider myself as an artist) so im SHOCKED when people Actually like my things. My doodles. The sometimes rare occasion of real art i put out there. Like! Wow! Thats crazy

Id have to say the same for youtube- im currently at 456 subscribers 🥺❤️ that is huge to me,, i wouldnt have expected me posting for the first time in years on youtube would result to me getting this many subscribers? ? .???

Im very, VERY thankful for the people ive met this year through fandom and generally. Unfortunately—for the past few months—Ive hit a really low stump in my mental health that limits me from talking to people without getting super drained, even on social media i kinda struggle with being active again. I am thankful for the people that continue to stick around and know im the way that i am,, one day ill be mentally stronger and everyone is gonna see my growth as soon as i can ,, Actually leave my own home and hopefully start a new. I didnt really consider that until one of my friends shared its experiences with me and i GENUINELY realized i can run away and get better one day,, there is a light at the end of the tunnel,, there IS,, but not now. Not today. Not in a few months. Itll take me years to heal but 2025 and ongoing years as i get more freedom to do so,,

UHHHH UHHH. ASIDE FROM CHEESY RANTING OF HAVING HOPES FOR THE FUTURE, YAPYAPYAP- i got a drawing tablet (again another thing my friend inspired me for- technically two major things in a row it inspired me for- hope in the future and drawing BWAHAHA-) and uhhh. HmMMOOHHH YEAH I REUNITED MY MEOWMEOWS! HOORA🎊🎊🎊🎊

my 2025 goals are not just improvement in art,, but in hopes of getting a full time job (since my last full time UMM. did NOT work out well! How am i gonna learn to pay my taxes on my own dawg,) and trying to get a place of my own since i missed out on that two years ago (or one? One year ago? I DUNNO..!!!!) , therapy and trying to heal better compared to my terrible stumps of 2022-2024,, i dunno what else but. Maybe working on my social skills at some point 🗿🗿 a far fetched goal is moving out of state completely and also going on testosterone but that is farrrr from now </33

Thank you lot for following and keeping up with my goofiness i gen did not think an animanga nerd with a passion of indie and mascot horror games could reach 510 followers within one year HELPPP thats crazy

On less serious goals though i hope on watching more animes than reading manga in 2025 BWAHAHAGAHSAJD i read manga more and anime is Extremely Rare for me to watch but both jjk and Beastars have all ive been watching as of recent lol- trust i will be such a geek (girl Please that is NAWT something to look forward to) (YES IT IS. HAVE YOU NO WHIMSY?)

[smidge-j]

When tumblr becomes insufferable, where will you go? Which app? Which platform?

I won't.

If you're after my shitposting, it will die with tumblr.

Something on my to-do list is to update my website and blog, and I may post important stuff on there from time to time, but right now, that's very low priority, and when it gets done it won't be the same type of posting as on tumblr.

I'll also continue making videos on youtube and streaming, but that's also not the same type of posting as tumblr.

I have a discord server, and I will probably continue to use that for memes and stuff, but discord by design will never be a viable alternative to tumblr.

I dont think tumblr can be recreated in any meaningful way, there's something about the culture here that has been finely crafted, plus I don't think it will ever truly die.

I will stay here out of spite until they physically destroy the servers with hammers (and exploding cars)

[guinevereslancelot]

i have been staring at these gifs so long i can no longer tell if they look cool or ugly <3

[dreamcatcherrs]

a concept: george, a cold apartment, a stolen shirt of his, and no bra.

+ I love this concept! hope you enjoy it ;)

cold - georgenotfound

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: georgenotfound x f!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: george has never been happier to see you cold once he feels a noticeable spikiness under your shirt.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 607

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: slight nsfw content! nipple play

song recommendation: sex money feelings die - slowed version

george’s eyes trailed over to you, watching as you stepped out of his bedroom and into the room he was currently sat in - the living room.

there you stood, looking like the smallest human with his shirt falling over your thighs, sleepy expression stuck on your face as you let out a long yawn. after all, it was 2 am by now, but you figured you’d stay up with him till he had to play jackbox with the other guys. he smiled at your presence, awing on the inside at how cute you look all tired and groggy.

“hey there, sleepyhead,” george greeted, throwing his phone beside his spot on the couch as he opened up his arms to you. you walked over to him as you rubbed your eye, plopping onto his lap with your knees on either side of him. you wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your face in the crook of his neck, hugging him tightly. he pulled you closer softy, hands finding a comfortable place on your bottom.

a large smile spread across his face, nudging his nose into your hair and taking in the sweet scent.

“it’s so cold,” you mumbled, shivering slightly in his arms. he dragged his fingers over your thighs, feeling the goosebumps rise up beneath his fingertips. he rubbed his hands along your thighs, trying to warm you up with false hope ahead. instead of wasting more time on that, he went to check the time on his phone.

“there’s still around thirty minutes till I have to go. wanna cuddle to warm you up?” he pulled back, staring into your tired gaze while his hands moved up to your waist. you nodded, blinking to prevent the drowsiness from getting to you, before nestling your head back into the comfortable warmth of his neck, pulling yourself even closer to him, chest pressed up against his.

george’s eyes widened slightly once feeling the spiky feeling of your nipples poking into his chest, pausing his every movement for a moment. even though both of you were clothed on your upper bodies, the sensation of your nipples pressing into his chest was so very obvious.

he felt his cheeks heat up, but continued his previous movements, and lay the two of you down so he was positioned behind you, arms wrapped around your waist and his stubs tickling your cheek. you smiled at the sweet warmth of his body against yours. he pressed a kiss against your cheek, before slowly sneaking a hand up your shirt, pushing it up to reveal your panties slightly.

your eyebrows furrowed slightly, mind waking up a little from the sudden sneaky movements of your boyfriend. “george? what are you… doing?” you trailed off slightly, but once he ran his thumb over one of your hard nipples, you immediately understood. a small sigh escaped your lips, making george’s little heart sing.

“I'm just… cuddling! I don't know what you're talking about.” but the grin you could hear through his voice and the way he said it sure told you something else.

you relaxed into his arms, biting your bottom lip as he pinched your nipple between his thumb and index, twisting slightly before releasing. you couldn’t hold back the small whine that escaped you, the feeling of the slight sting and following pleasure travelling right down to your centre. you were too tired to do anything but lay there and just feel every swipe of his thumb, every pinch of his fingers and any roughness he chose to cause upon your sensitive nipples, until he had to leave to play with the guys.

_____________________________________

tag list✰

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[scarfdyedshadow]

On the Decline of Mage Characterization in Ancillary Type-Moon Works (or On Magi Getting Flanderized Into One-Dimensional Evil Arrogant Sods) Part 1: The Matter of Magi Themselves

Yes, I am dumb enough and obsessed enough to basically write an entire essay on this. Yes, the title is pretentious as all hell.

A disclaimer before we start though, this is not directed at or meant to condemn or call out or mock or invalidate the many a Tumblr shitpost on evil arrogant magi getting owned by Guda or various other characters. It may not be humor personally up my alley, but I understand the appeal, and it’s not like there isn’t some grain of truth to them. Likewise this isn’t meant to in any way condone anything Nasuverse magi. A fair amount of them are evil regardless of mitigating circumstances, a lot of the ones that aren’t outright evil have capacity to be evil because of ethos and mindset, and the acts they commit are certainly evil. I am not condoning them, or dismissing them as not evil. I simply urge a more nuanced rather than simplistic analysis of that evil. This also unfortunately omits Mahoyo, which probably has quite a bit of insight, because I haven’t gotten around to reading it yet, thus rendering me a fake fan you should not listen to. Thank you for your consideration. Also, spoilers.

This first part is primarily concerned with the inhumanity of magi and misconceptions about magi and their ethos as a whole, while the next part will actually go into the history of magus villains in Type-Moon works and what I feel is their decline, and build upon and further points of this part. There may be a potential third part on the Crypters, Gordolf, and Olga, the modern faces of Nasuverse magi and the greatest illustration that magi are far more nuanced, complex, pitiful and yet admirable, than they aren’t, and Nasu’s thesis statement on the power of love and life.

(Note: Okay my theme is actually pretty eyesearing to the point I recommend you read this on dash, I’ll go get it fixed)

"Do you know what it is that magi are aiming for?"

After a moment of blankness, Gray replied with a difficult expression.

"Umm...I heard about it in class. What was it...the Spiral of Origin?"

"Right. The Spiral of Origin, or more simply the Root. Sometimes it's referred to as「 」, the thing for which there can be no reference. It is the source of everything, the 'zero' from which all matter and phenomena flow. Ah, but now that I'm trying to put it into words, I'm realizing that's not a good idea. After all, even the idea of 'zero' has baggage that makes it unsuitable as a comparison."

"Regardless, the goal of magi is to eventually reach that place. Of course, there are also those who simply derive pleasure from touching the supernatural, or from being superhuman. Because we are weak, we fall to that diversion. But in the end, that's not our ultimate goal."

For modern magi, most understood that reaching the root was something that just wasn't possible for them. After all, even though magecraft itself had been in a state of continuing decline since the Age of Gods, there were no reports of anyone facing that past and trying to return to it. Likely, the appearance in the Far East of the fifth - and often called the last - Magician was the same as the gate to the Root being all but closed to everyone else.

Even so, we didn't give up.

Anyone who would give up in a situation like this would never have become a magus to begin with.

Ironically enough, despite opening up with a quote from Lord El-Melloi II Case Files, which I’ll have some critique for, the crux of my thesis is this. As originally presented in Kara no Kyoukai, and generally only kept up to a meaningful degree in other Nasu written works like Stay Night, Clock Tower 2015, and Grand Order, magi were the piteous, tragic, inhuman not as in inhumane but as in a broken machine product of an impossible ideal and a broken system. They were the villains, yes, unambiguously so, but at the same time they were sympathetic and nuanced to an extent that would decline down the road.

You see, Araya. A mage always lives hurriedly. What for? If it was for themselves alone they wouldn't bother with the outside world. So why do they intrude upon the rest of the world? Why do they rely upon it? What will they achieve with that power? What will they save with the Ars Magna (Ars Magna: Meaning 'great secret technique', it stands not for a technique that is not learnt through study but for a mystery that is secretly passed down)? If that was the case it would have been better for them to become a king instead of a mage.

You think people live foully, but you yourself would not be able to live like that. You would not be able to live while accepting the fact that you know that everything is worthless and base. You would not be able to live without the pride of knowing that you alone are special, and that you alone can save this crumbling world. Of course, I was like that too. But that sort of thing has no meaning. --- Accept it, Araya. We chose the path of transcendence called magecraft because we are weaker than everybody else.

Magi were presented as absurd, as farcical, as maddeningly helpless and hopeless compared to those living normal lives. This will come up in Part 2, especially as pertains to Touko and Gordolf and the like, but normal everyday life, not superior thematic superpowers or an army of Servants, is what is truly far more powerful than any magi.

"... I'll just ask one thing. What do you mean when you say that secrets are kept even within that Association?"

Unexpectedly, I hear something from the sofa.

Over there is Shiki, who has been sitting there since before without a word. She's the type of person who doesn't get involved in a conversation that she's not interested in, so until now she had been staring at the scenery outside the window.

"--- There is that. A mage won't reveal the results of his experiments even within the Association. What the person next to them is researching, what their goals are, and what they have obtained are all a mystery. The only time a mage will reveal the results of their work is when they are passing it on to their descendants just before they die."

"Studying for their benefit alone, yet not using that power for their own sake? What purpose is there in a life like that, Touko? Is it that the goal is to learn, and the process is to learn too? If the only things you have are the beginning and the end, that's the same as having a zero."

Their pursuit for the truth is maddening. It is greedy yet at once devoid of greed. It is selfish yet at once devoid of selfishness. Their ethos and methodology are not fundamentally inhumane, but inhuman. Magi are an odd sort of creature indeed, and it isn’t the case that they’re all evil in their absurd quest. Indeed, virtually all early Nasuverse ancillary material, and this is still said today despite the opposite being true in practice, is that the vast majority of magi are shut ins who stay inside researching as opposed to eating babies.

The everyday life of a magus is mostly spent conducting research. Magi who use magic outside of a research capacity, such as those who use magi to work and profit for themselves, are few in number. People who treat magic as a tool, such as assassins, are called “spellcasters”, and are looked down upon with disdain by the magical establishment.

Furthermore, it is precisely because they are magi that few magi use magic in their daily lives.

Practically speaking, for every mage you see committing mass murder or fighting the mass murdering mage with superpowers, there are ten who we certainly can’t call conventionally moral, who we certainly can’t call normal humans, obsessively striving towards a seemingly impossible goal inhumanly but not inhumanely. Because Type-Moon does action series this has never been tenable to properly depict besides the minority, but it is the truth regardless. This is from a later work I actually have some measure of criticism for, but Strange Fake actually illustrates that point perfectly.

"A mage's mage," he muttered disgustedly to himself, eyes narrowed, "is no different from a hard-working corrupt politician." What about me? He wondered as soon as the words were out of his mouth. As long as corruption stayed hidden, it was difficult for the public to tell the difference between a corrupt politician and an honest one. In which case, mages, who never entered the public eye to begin with, probably ought to be lumped in with them. There were exceptions, but from the standpoint of the general public, mages were generally evil.

Other Nasu written works like Stay Night and Clock Tower 2015 also touch upon it.

Magic is just what it sounds like… magic. I don't care if you get ideas like abracadabra or whatever. You can just think of us as people who do strange things by casting spells. Oh, though it's not like we fly around on brooms or make stars appear with a wave of a wand. …Well, we could do that, but we don't bother as it's kind of meaningless. We're basically heretics who hide ourselves from the world. We're prohibited from standing out and even if we weren't, we would rather be at home studying magic.

Clock Tower 2015 especially hits it up by depicting what might be called the ideal magus, the point of being a magus that is often distorted by human concerns but that all of them are to some extent, not an inhumane monster but an inhuman man who has dedicated his life to magecraft.

"Ahhh, the life of a magus is so brief. It would have been great if I were born with just the brain and nothing else." Like what you just saw, Leiv was a pure academic magus. All his efforts were poured solely into his theory and magecraft. He cared naught of any other responsibilities, the application of his magecraft, his lineage, or building his faction. From Leiv's perspective, those magi were the same as the plebians that were "normal people". If one were to decipher the mystical, then he must sacrifice his humanity. A magus was a creature with nothing but magecraft on his mind. There was no room for burdens such as "life".

So to begin with, what we call magi are far from all arrogant murderous sods, and if anything arrogant murderous sods are the minority. They come in all manner of varieties, united simply by the pursuit of the impossible, by the desire to reach the truth, by the desire to transcend. Even more so than just that, they do have their values and ethics. They are often cruelly distorted, to the extent “magi parents” is a phrase that might as well be an oxymoron, but I would opine that as a product more of recent years than anything.

"Keep those for me. They are some awful cigarettes from Taiwan but I only have those now. Of course there isn't any company that made them, it's a famous item that some eccentric master made only one box of. Yeah, out of all my possessions that is the second most valuable thing I have." Leaving behind some strange words, she turned around and walked out. ... Perhaps her most valuable possession is herself, that kind of thought popped into my mind so I asked her, but she only turned back her head and answered. "That's rather rude. I know it's me but even I don't treat people like possessions." Like herself when she has her glasses on, she pouts as if she's sulking. And then, returning to her usual cool expression Touko-san continued talking. "Kokuto. Those people called mages, with an apprentice or other people they are close to they feel like parents. Since they are something like their offspring, they often fight desperately to protect them as well. ... Well, it's like that so relax and wait here. I'll bring Shiki back tonight." Thock thock, the sound of her walking away. Unable to say anything to her back, I let the brown-coated magician go.

That magi value their children, their apprentices, their legacies, even if only as a next step on the path to the Root, is also a truth echoed at the same time that it’s often contradicted. But then, magi are in of themselves contradictory creatures. After all, despite pursuing an inhuman ideal, despite throwing away their humanity, they themselves are still human. That contradiction between reality and ideals, best exemplified by Fate/Stay Night, is one of the themes at the heart of Nasu’s work.

So, to repeat it once more, magi as a whole, magi society as a whole, is not fundamentally inhumane but inhuman. That inhumanity often lends itself to the inhumane, but not necessarily, and indeed I opine that should be considered on a deeper level. That inhuman society is by no means a good thing, but to simply call it evil and magi evil and call it a day is to do a disservice to its nuance. There are arrogant murderous magi as well, sure, but they too are products of a tenacious ideal, they are the long shadow cast by lineages stretching for thousands of years.

In reality, what really forged the magus of the modern day was not a supernatural power or transcendent conscience, but a tenacity built and reinforced over generations. Clinging to a shadowed, intense ideology for hundreds, or in some cases even thousands of years, developed its own sort of extreme power. Even if science were to exceed magecraft in all other respects, as long as that ideal survived, magecraft itself would be ineradicable.

But what then of Souren Araya? What of that bastard Zouken and worst dad of the year Tokiomi and that arrogant asshole Kayneth? Rest well assured that I will cover them in exacting detail in the next part of whatever the hell this is, and everything I say about them will build upon this. That may seem contradictory, since this part is mostly devoted to showing that magi are far more than just evil sods, but believe it or not Kayneth is going to be mightily relevant to how pitifully weak magi in truth are, and Tokiomi is going to be relevant to how magi value their children in ways that don’t have to be inhumane, but can be inhuman. Until next time, all I can ask is to consider that while magi are indeed monsters, monsters really can be quite interesting creatures.

Things in this world were all like that.

It wasn’t limited to magecraft. It wasn’t limited to those beyond humans (monsters). In a world of common sense (the obvious), it was something everyone understood.

If you said that misunderstandings, miscommunications, disagreements, and false understandings are what connected them, then...

“We are misrecognition. Our world itself is misunderstanding. We can experience a multitude of truths, not just one single reality. No matter how wise you are, or how much time you are given, you will never reach something like a single truth. Magi may just be those who continually reject that fact.”

Speaking as if in self-deprecation, my master had pursed his lips at that.

He had finally realized that his words and the objective that all Magi pursued, known as the “Spiral of Origin,” were in contradiction.

Sources: Lord El-Melloi Case Files (TL by TwilightsCall), Kara no Kyoukai (TL on baka-tsuki), Fate/Stay Night (TL Mirror Moon), Clock Tower 2015 (TL by food), Fate/Strange Fake (TL by OtherSideOfSky)

[kalboykiyay]

Drunk Headcanons

Based on this post from a while back, I mentioned that I would make this for @thewarriorshomegirl and totally forgot smh. The train has left The Kalenko's Shitpost Station.

Cleon

Gets really irritable and moody when he’s drunk, though he’s the type of person to “drink himself sober”, so generally, he doesn’t do anything stupid whenever he drinks. Take a lot of drinks to get intoxicated, so he’d probably die before he starts acting like a drunken idiot. Will be even more annoyed than usual when he's drunk and generally has a MUCH shorter fuse. Probably will fight anything that breathes in his generally direction. Nobody except him and Lincoln can actually tell that he’s drunk. Everyone else is hellbent on seeing him drunk but they don't realise that he's already drunk. Could definitely be the designated driver, except he gets crazy road rage when he's drunk.

Swan

After he’s had a large quantity of alcohol, which is probably incredibly unlikely, Swan just starts talking, a lot, but only when asked. He’s less uptight when he’s drunk, and definitely way more approachable, just don’t tell him anything in confidence, because they moment he’s asked, that secret is no longer a secret. Aside, from the prompted tea spilling, he doesn’t change much. The best choice for the designated driver.

Fox

Unlike Swan, Fox is incredibly easy to get drunk. Though, I get the feeling that he doesn’t like drinking much unless he’s dealing with some serious shit, so it’s rare, but it’s entertaining, nevertheless. He’s gives off emotional drunk vibes, so he probably cries when he’s drunk. Probably the type of person to call his exes or people he doesn’t talk to anymore if a phone is nearby, so don’t let him get near one (Sounds like a Shitpost Fic Idea... Hmmm...). Like Swan, he will tell all of your fucking secrets, but he doesn’t need to be prompted. Very talkative, will continue to talk shit about any and everyone. Definitely uses secrets against people should he get into any arguments. Could not be designated driver, would cry at a green light.

Rembrandt

Rembrandt is adorable when he’s drunk. He hasn't had much to drink, but that doesn't matter much. Very affectionate, wants to give you a hug, loves your face. This dude thinks everything is really nice and deserving of love. His speech is very slurred; what is the fuck is English? Probably having way too much fun, let him be happy. But like, don't let him have anymore drinks. Don't worry though, he won't fight you much if you can distract him with fun things that aren't drugs. Surprisingly, might not be too bad of a choice as a designated driver.

Cowboy

He's probably had like two shots of something. He seems fine for the moment but the moment he runs to the bathroom is when all of the troubles start. Then he becomes a Trainwreck and a half. He can't hold his alcohol at all, so he purges that shit like Heaven purges damned souls. He starts crying because he's puking and he pukes again because he's crying too much. Any and everything makes him sad. He'll start off crying about how sick he is and in two minutes, he'll be crying about his lost stuffed animal from the first grade and how it was his bestest friend, or perhaps about why grape flavoured things don't actually taste like grape. You name it, he'll cry about it. A dangerous choice for designated driver; y'all will wake up in the fucking woods.

Snow

Snow is good drunk boi. He'll be fine one minute, no out of the ordinary behaviour, no slurred speech, no mood changes. You think that you can vibe with a "drunk" Snow until you turn back and see that he's collapsed into a heap of absolute exhaustion in the middle of the floor. He will not remember this and will immediately go back to being sociable after waking up, but he won't stay awake for any extended period of time. He cannot be the designated driver, as he can and will fall asleep at the wheel.

Vermin

Huhuhuh... Blackout drunk, probably. He gets some serious memory loss. He doesn't know where he is. He's loud at karaoke. He left the house with twenty dollars and now he has forty dollars and he doesn't know if that was gotten through ethical or unethical means. He doesn't know what anybody else is talking about. Swan and Fox keep telling him to get off the bar, but he will not. Has anybody seen his left sock? He's not sure why he woke up behind the meat market, or how he acquired that chicken, especially considering that he has more money now, but he did. Don't trust him if he says he can be your designated driver, he doesn't remember what a car is or how to drive.

Ajax

He loves you and wants to give you chicken nuggies but also hates you and wants to throw a bottle at your face. Very loud. Whose hat is this on his head? Clearly doesn't care about life. If it sounds the least but dangerous, he might do it. Won't stop drinking, has hit on every girl in the club and has gotten positive reactions from like, 60%, the absolute whore. Somebody should stop him before he hooks up with another person. If you let him be your Designated driver, there will be reports about three traffic collisions later that night, all involving the same car.

Cochise

Cochise has started three fights, made out with four different people, made twenty three phone calls using the payphone in the back, and told everyone in the bar that he loves them. He's broken it down on the dancefloor. He's passed in the bathroom after vomiting a bit. He has told secrets, he's laughed and cried. Everything is too loud. Life of the party by all accounts. The bar regulars are excited to see him, the bartenders like the extra money, and the cleaners groan. If your let him be your designated driver, he just might start drag racing on the empty streets. He'll probably set something on fire, and generally being the worst influence on everyone you've ever seen.

[pickpocketarc]

Shitpost Starters

A collection of starter sentences taken from Tumblr shitposts over the past several months. Wherever possible, links to the originating posts have been provided, because there’s a lot of gold in those posts.

Please do not erase these attributions; I am not the wit behind any of them, merely the aggregator.

god may judge you, but his sins outnumber your own - afabbaeddel 

The gods did not breathe the breath of life into us and give us gifts of a shape, a will, and a voice just so we could pay bills and die - wodneswynn

Jesus is my homeboy but God has a lot to answer for and my rebellion will continue until he does so. - hokuto-ju-no-ken

“Looks complicated, how does it work?” It doesn’t - carnival-phantasm

big fan of God, but this was a rookie mistake - carnival-phantasm 

I’ll beat the tar out of any supernatural power that even looks at me funny - glumshoe 

Healers and poisoners are folks with similar skill sets and wildly different philosophies. - dandelionwitch 

emotionally? the year is 1875 and i have tuberculosis - librabutch

the human back is such that i have reinvented yoga in my various attempts to contort and stretch in order to crack it. im calling it Bad Yoga and it’ll kill you - haleyocentrism 

if god wasn’t such a horny fucking psychopath life would be so much easier. - transhumanish

Don’t ever hug a lobster when you see one on the street - unknown, poem by tearlessrain 

They are not shy because they are composed entirely of hubris and spite. - kedreeva 

acting is the devil's sport! - godlessondheimite

im on this earth to have a good time not to be seen as cool - bouchemordue

you cannot kill me in a way that matters - personsonable

decay exists as an extant form of life - personsonable 

The human body is nothing if not a wondrous catastrophe with two settings, ride or die. - thebibliosphere

cats don’t give a fuck and they will slap the shit out of whoever they want - tooiconic

someday a god is going to smite me and i’m ready for it - classiclesbianopinions

You compared me to an animal yet were surprised when I attacked. Did you forget that beasts have claws and teeth? - asdcats

With one line you activated every bone in my body and all of them are in attack mode - val-ritz

the plot is that a bunch of cats are having a dance contest for the right to take a ufo to cat heaven :) - zombiekaiba

insult [name] again and ill show you why kneecaps are a privilege and not a human right - lvl-7-kobold

That’ll only have consequences the first, what, couple dozen times? I can take a punch. - a-fragile-sort-of-anarchy

[...] you know whose problem that is? Not fucking mine. - a-fragile-sort-of-anarchy

First of all, don’t you ever accuse me of having morals, narrative or otherwise, ever again. - a-fragile-sort-of-anarchy

[you/they] will not die of natural causes - smallest-feeblest-boggart

if there is a god, mine is surely a trickster, giving me the miracle of sight and of comprehension only for me to be cursed to use it on what you just said - warchiefwindrunner

There are so many other words in the english language and you just had to go and say these - coffeeandmorland

that is for god to decide. i certainly can’t. - post--grad 

It’s not about whether you win or lose. Sometimes it’s about how many pages you add to the rulebook. - seat-safety-switch

humans are so Loud and for What - shfqhomr

must a woman be “beautiful”? is it not enough that she shake her fist at God and commit acts of heresy in the name of hedonism and lunar madness - insomniac-arrest

This body is a vessel for my mayhem and as long as I can perform buffoonery it doesn’t matter if this stomach is flat or not - antsu-in-my-pantsu

we are all poltergeists in meat suits - sugarkat

look at this and tell me that magic isn’t real and doesn’t want to strip us bare and use our souls as bartering chips in cosmic games of poker - insomniac-arrest

what a year this week has been - petrak

I made a fool of myself today and I will make a fool of myself tomorrow. Good night - jumex

You made the unfortunate mistake of being in my way. - cosmic-aria

i can't shut up and i've decided to make it everyone's problem. - generalgrievousdatingsim

If you’re going to burn bridges you might as well do it via orbital strike. - thebibliosphere

thank you tremendously, but also im going to kill you violently and with haste - anicecoldbath

one day you’ll decompose and i'll be there to watch it happen - turing-tested

[darkzeruda1214]

IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW!

WARNING SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4 AND/OR MANGA

DON’T READ this unless you don’t mind spoilers or have read the ENTIRETY of the manga. 

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

So this came to my attention when I watched Keith and Carla talking in the episode “Bystander” (Season 3 part 1, Ep: 11) for a second time when I noticed something.

Scene: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QQQr2qiLe5s

Now as I’m sure the majority are aware of the “Anime Hairstyle of Death.”

If you haven’t heard of it: https://knowyourmeme.com/photos/1788260-anime-mom-hair-dead-mom-hair

(And that’s not even all the characters that have died and have that hairstyle tbh)

Anyways, at this point it’s no surprise if I ever see a character that had a hairstyle similar there is a chance that they might die. (Though not always the case), though that’s not the point I’m trying to come across. It’s matters much more than that, it’s not so much her choice in hairstyle that caused her death. But rather... this:

Seems normal right? Just a mom holding her baby, until:

“Here mom let me make sure you don’t die!”

We literally see Eren reaching out for her hair. Tugging it away with his little baby arms and pull it down.

You know, I can’t help but recall... oh that’s right. 

He tried to save his mom.

Now going back roughly around 9 years ago?

This also happens:

“You know what, on second thought...”

*proceeds to bite it*

And instead of leaving it be, he pulls it back onto her shoulder. (Death Flag number 2).

...

Now back to the future, Eren DID try to save her. Even cutting his fingers in the process but of course even with Mikasa’s enhanced strength they weren’t able to get her out of time. Because the next thing they know the smiling titan (Dina) arrives

Hannes does too, but... we all know what happens next, but there’s an extra part that is revealed later in the manga. (Chapter 96)

After kicking down the wall, 12 year old Bertholdt gets out of his Colossal Titan form. But as he Dina is walking towards him. But instead of eating him, she completely ignores him.

Dina straight up passes the opportunity of eating a tasty titan shifter (and become human again) and goes straight to Eren’s destroyed house where his mom is currently trapped under the rubble.

And wanna know why she passes the chance of eating Bertholdt? 

Because of this nuclear asshole: 

He’s the reason why his mother died, or at least led her to her death in order to make his past self react and have the drive to continue with his plan

He even admitted it (chapter 139):

And... it started with him when he was just a wee-little-lad: 

Not only does he just move her hair, but he also is biting it. Just like how the smiling titan did! 

IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW!!! Seriously though, Eren screw you for killing your own mother!!!

...

...

LOL just kidding. XD

Don’t take this post seriously, it’s a joke XD

I was just messing around. I don’t think the whole hair scene has anything to do with Carla’s death.

So no. I don’t think baby Eren had anything to do with it

The hairstyle Carla decided to have is a mere coincidence and this entire post was made because I was bored lol

Though in all serious though I don’t believe the animators made that scene as a foreshadow. 

Again this shitpost was entirely just crack my mind thought was a good idea to create. In fact I don’t think neither of the studios are even aware of the whole anime hairstyle of death. This was just a coincidence/fluke at best, and I just was just poking fun at the idea

Also, I do like Eren, he‘s a genius of a character and deserves a freaken HUG! (Like he legit needs it, the poor dude has been through so much) I really love his character, I don’t hate him at all.

Even if he’s a POS for committing genocide to 80 percent of the human race

[heavenly-roman]

Look At The Stars, Look How They Shine For You

Plot: In which Logan and Virgil both have crushes, and Roman and Patton are done with their shit

Warnings: sympathetic Deceit and Remus, crying, one (1) kiss, flirting, mild swearing, not a warning but roman is non-binary so

Pairing(s): analogical, background roceit (are u surprised?) and background intruality? dukality? moduke? idk it’s pat/remus, platonic drlamp

Word Count: 3894

if you like this, consider buying me a coffee?

Taglist: @emo-disaster @shitpost-sides

(ao3 link!!!)

this was my secret santa gift for @thepurpmann!!! very glad u enjoyed it, and thank u for giving me such a wonderful prompt :)

+++

“-and that’s when I said, listen here, buddy-” “Roman, shut up,” Virgil orders his best friend, who makes an offended noise and places their hand over their heart as if they’ve been wounded.

“I’ll have you know, it is very rude to-”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Virgil waves his hand to dismiss Roman, before gesturing to a boy laughing with his friend. “Who is that? Is he new?”

“Aw, does little emo have a crush?” Roman backs away before their shorter friend can elbow them in the stomach as they anticipated. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry! That’s Liam, or Levi, or Lucas, or… something like that. He’s in my first period math, super smart but kind of a show-off, if you ask me.”

“I don’t think you have any jurisdiction to call anyone a show-off, Princey,” Virgil shrugged, walking towards the boys and leaving Roman to pout.

Virgil approaches the pair, and before his anxiety talks him out of it, he asks the blonde boy, “Hey Patton, do you have the assignment rubric for art? I think I lost mine.”

“Oh yeah of course!” Patton chirps, slinging his backpack in front of him. “Just let me find it!”

Virgil smiles at him, and turns to face Liam or Levi or Lucas. “Sorry for interrupting you guys, it was just uh, important. I’m Virgil.” He rubs the back of his neck, all of his confidence drained from being so close to this new kid.

Liam or Levi or Lucas smiles, and Virgil’s breath catches in his throat. “Don’t worry about it, it was a mundane conversation that was vastly improved when you arrived. I’m Logan.”

Virgil feels his cheeks heat up as he reaches his hand out for Logan to shake. “Nice to meet you, Logan. You new here?”

“I just started here last week actually,” Logan grabs his hand and it takes everything in Virgil to not faint because wow, is he gay and this guy is strong. “Thanks for noticing. Although, I would've appreciated it more if you had noticed when I sat beside you in History class on my first day, and have been sitting there since.”

Virgil sputters, internally scolding himself for not noticing the hot guy that has apparently sat beside him for a whole week . “Oh, uh, sorry, I- that class is just really boring, you know? And I  usually fall asleep or listen to music so I don’t really, um, pay attention to the world around me. So… sorry.”

Logan begins to respond, but Patton beats him to it, pulling out the rubric for Virgil. “Okay, here it is! It’s a little crumpled by it should still be legible!”

“Thanks, Pat,” Virgil takes the sheet of paper and turns back to Logan. “I should get to class. See you in history?”

“Yeah, see you then,” and Virgil thinks he’s imagining the excited glint in Logan’s eyes. He gives a two-finger salute and walks away, completely ignoring Roman’s questions when he rejoins them.

+++

As the bell rang for lunch, Logan files out of class and beginning walking to his locker. Patton jogs to catch up, bumping his shoulder into Logan’s.

“So,” Patton starts, grinning as Logan nods at him to continue. “You and Virgil, huh? Does someone have a little crush?”

“Please, Patton,” Logan scolds, trying to ignore his flushing cheeks. “I just met Virgil today, there is no feasible way-”

“Logan.”

“Alright, I suppose I could be attracted to him,” Logan concedes, hiding his face in his locker to avoid Patton’s teasing gaze. When he emerges from his locker, money in hand to buy lunch, Patton’s mischievous smile greets him, and rightfully so, Logan becomes concerned. The blonde boy links his arm through Logan’s and begins marching them through the hall.

“Well, it’s a great thing that we’re going to have lunch with him and Roman then, isn’t it?” Patton smiles as Logan sputters, ignoring the taller teen’s protests and pulling him along towards the cafeteria. Logan spends their time in line trying to convince his friend to rethink his sabotage plan.

“Patton, this is a bad idea. I just acknowledged my possible feelings for him-”

“Hi Virgil, mind if Logan and I sit with you?”

“Uh, yeah, go ahead,” Virgil gestures for them to sit down. “Roman is just buying their lunch, they’ll be here soon.”

Logan nods stiffly and begins eating his pizza, silently cursing himself for becoming friends with Patton and letting him lead him into this situation. There are a few moments of awkward silence before Virgil speaks up.

“Hey, Logan?”

Logan looks up, wiping his mouth and nodding for Virgil to continue.

“Roman doesn’t know your name, so do you think-”

“You can call me many different names that begin with the letter L?” Logan raises his eyebrow.

“Please?”

“It would be my honour to mess with your friend.”

“A man after my own heart,” Virgil punctuates his sentence by placing his hand on his chest and wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. Logan ducks his head down to hide his blush from the two men he’s sitting with.

It’s then that Roman makes a reappearance, tray in hand, talking to a taller boy with a smirk on his face. The boy walks away and Virgil has to snap his fingers in his friends face to gain their attention.

“Hello? Earth to Roman?” He calls, chuckling at Roman’s love struck face. They shake their head to clear their mind and sit down to join the three other teens.

“Roman, this is Liam,” Virgil introduces, shooting a wink to Logan, who might as well just die right here.

“Pleasure to formally meet you, Liam,” Roman says, taking Logan’s hand to shake. “Say, have you met Dee?”

“Dee?” Logan asks. “Is that the person you were just talking to?”

“I was just talking to him, yes. Isn’t my boyfriend so cute?”

“He’s not your boyfriend, Ro,” Virgil corrects, stabbing his salad with a fork to emphasize his point.

“Not yet, but if he keeps flirting with me like that? I’ll force him to date me.”

“I’m sure there’s a nicer way for you to ask him out,” Patton playfully scolds. He elbows Logan under the table, to which Logan sends him a glare he can only hope is as subtle as he thinks.

“Nah, I think they’re gonna have to use force,” Virgil shrugs. “What do you think, Levi?”

“Levi?” Comes Roman’s confused whisper.

Logan suppresses a laugh and answers, “I don’t think Dee would flirt with you if he had no interest in you, Roman.”

Roman sends Virgil a look that Logan can’t define, and responds, “Thank you! Someone who has some common sense at this table!”

Patton pretends to be offended, while Virgil chooses to throw a cherry tomato at Roman’s face.

“I’m perfectly sensible, thank you very much,” Virgil picks up another tomato and laughs when Roman protects their face.

“If you’re so sensible, why haven’t you asked out-”

“Because Remus has a crush on Patton!” Virgil quickly interrupts.

Logan feels his heart sink. It’s foolish to think that Virgil could have been interested in him. Virgil is hot, funny, snarky, and in no way attracted to the nerd who sits beside him in history class. His breathing grows heavy and there’s a lump in his throat. Tears sting his eyes as he tries to control himself. How could he have been so stupid? And why on Earth is he so upset?

“-knew Remus has a crush on him, it’s very obvious Virgil. Almost as obvious as your crush on-”

“If you’ll all excuse me,” Logan whispers, his voice not able to go any louder in fear of crying in the very open cafeteria. He clambers out of his seat and speedwalks to the bathroom, doing his best to not draw attention to himself. He hears a Logan, wait! From Virgil, followed by a Logan? From Roman, and he can’t bring himself to laugh.

The bathroom is empty, luckily for him, but he throws himself into a stall anyway. He locks the door and takes off his glasses, furiously rubbing at his eyes to shoo away the tears. He thanks himself for having the common sense to have taken his things with him, and chugs half of his water bottle. He does not want a dehydration headache for the rest of the day.

Logan lets himself cry for a minute or two, before he hears the bathroom door open. Upon instinct, he holds his breath and pulls his legs up onto the toilet seat to hide any evidence that he’s there. He’s relieved to see an unfamiliar pair of paint splattered combat boots - that is, until the owner of said boots calls out into the almost empty bathroom, “uh, Logan?”

Logan silently curses - he figures one of the others sent this person in to talk to him, and from the impatient tapping of their boot, he doesn’t think they’ll be leaving anytime soon. He slides his feet off of the toilet seat and stands up, placing his glasses back on his face and takes a deep breath. He opens the stall door, and staring back at him is - Roman? No, a clone of Roman. A much edgier, slightly scarier, more facial hair having, clone.

“They were right, you are cute,” Clone said, looking Logan up and down. They sat against the wall and patted the spot next to them, signalling Logan to sit. Once he did, Clone spoke up. “My name is Remus, I’m Roman’s twin brother.”

“You’re the one that has a crush on Patton?” Logan asked, incredulously. “But you’re…”

“Scary?” Remus fills in, and Logan nods, albeit a little hesitantly. “I get that a lot, don’t worry. Roman will tell you that I’m terrifying, but that’s just because I've pushed them down the stairs one too many times.”

Logan laughs and says, “Well, I think Roman is obligated to be scared of you.”

“You’re right,” Remus sighs. They sit in a comfortable silence as Logan calms his breathing.

“You know,” Remus starts, “I’m not gonna make you talk about whatever made you so upset that you had to run to the bathroom and cry, just know that me, and the others, we’re all here for you, okay? Life sucks sometimes, and all that we can do is be there for each other.”

“Thank you, Remus. I really appreciate it,” Logan stands as the bell rings for third period. “You coming?”

“I’m always fashionably late to class,” Remus leans back against the wall and closes his eyes. “I think if I showed up on time, my teachers would send me to the nurse.”

Logan nods and begins to leave the bathroom, but not before saying, “oh and Remus? Patton’s face lit up when Virgil said you have a crush on him.”

Logan closed the door on Remus’ sputtering, laughing to himself and feeling slightly better.

+++

Virgil repeatedly hits Roman with his sketchbook while they walk him to art class. “I still can’t believe that you would try to tell Logan that I like him!”

“Well I still can’t believe that you tried to trick me with his name!” Roman retorts, catching the book in their hand and throwing it back at Virgil.

“You’re the one that didn’t know his name in the first place.”

“You’re the one that didn’t know he was in your class, smartass.”

Virgil rolls his eyes and waves goodbye to Roman, walking into class and sitting in between Patton and Dee.

“So Dee,” Virgil starts, gaining the boys attention. “When are you planning to officially ask out Roman?”

“I’d probably say the same time you’re planning on officially asking out Logan,” Patton cuts in, innocently shrugging his shoulders.

“I’ve known him for all of one day, Pat.”

“And yet you’re completely infatuated with him.”

“Excuse me, but-“

“Guys?” Dee tries, gaining their attention. “Could you not fight in the middle of class? I don’t think detention would be very ideal for any of us.”

The two boys mumble out their apologies, before Patton turns to Dee. “So when are you asking Roman out?”

Dee flushes and tugs his yellow beanie down over his forehead, “I was thinking of asking them to go with me to the Winter Formal. As a date.”

Patton squeals and Virgil nods approvingly.

“Well, as long as you don’t hurt them, I don’t care what you do.” He leans in close, voice barely above a whisper as he asks, “You know what I did to the last person that broke their heart?”

“Nothing, because you’re a good person and you wouldn’t want to hurt anyone?” Dee suggests.

“You wish, Anderson.”

Dee goes to respond, but their teacher begins class, and Virgil sighs a breath of relief. His relief, however, is lived for around three minutes, before their teacher tells them to use the period to finish their current assignment.

“So,” Patton whispers, and Virgil wishes he could disappear so he doesn’t have to have this conversation. “You planning of asking Logan to the Winter Formal?”

“No,” He whispers back, ignoring Patton’s sad expression.

“Why not?”

“Because,” his sentence is interrupted by their teacher shushing them, and reminding them to get back to work. He continues, whispering now, “ Because I just met him, and I have no clue if he even likes me back.”

“He does, Virgil. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“He says no, we ruin our friendship-“

“The friendship you’ve had for a day?”

“Shut up,” Virgil grumbles, shoving Patton. “It would make everything awkward.”

“More awkward than it is now?” Patton raises his hands in surrender. “If you’d rather be two pining idiots-“

“Hey!”

“-that’s fine by me. But when you decide to act on your feelings? Let me know, and I’ll be there to help.”

+++

Fourth period comes, and Logan finds himself dreading it - he’ll have to face Virgil, and he does not want to explain why he ran off during lunch. He elects to just keep his headphones in and hopefully Virgil will ignore him like he has for the past week.

“Hey, Logan?”

Virgil does not ignore him.

“Uh, yeah, what’s up?” Logan takes out his headphones and cringes at his use of slang. Virgil half smiles and sits down beside him.

“You doing okay?” He asks, and Logan can see the concern in his eyes, and damn it, why does he have to be cute and nice?

“Yes, I am perfectly alright, Virgil. Thank you.”

“Of course,” Virgil bumps their shoulders, before turning to look Logan in the eyes. “Listen, I’m not gonna make you tell me-“

“I already heard that all from Remus, but thank you. I really appreciate it,” Logan chuckles. He turns his attention to the teacher as he announces that he’s handing back tests. He looks over, seeing Virgil pale at the announcement.

Logan knows he didn’t do this test - all of his work from his previous school will be counted up and he’ll continue from the new unit - yet he can’t help but feel dread in the pit of his stomach as the teacher places Virgil’s test on his desk, face down.

Virgil peeks at the top corner of his test and swears under his breath. He’s hitting his forehead with the palm of his hand, and Logan swear he can hear him mutter, “stupid, stupid, stupid,” over and over again.

“Everything, uh, gucci, Virgil?”

Virgil lets outs humourless chuckle. “Uh, yeah, yeah I’m- I’m good, yeah.”

“May I see your test?”

Virgil hesitantly hands over the paper, burying his head in his hands. Logan flips it over and inhales a sharp breath through his teeth. At the top of the page, in large, red numbers, it says 52%, followed by see me after class .

“Virgil?” Logan asks. The hum he gets in response urges him to continue. “Do you need tutoring?”

“Oh, um,” Virgil rubs the back of his neck. “I - I don’t know about that.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know that right?”

“Yeah, sure,” but the glossiness of his eyes told Logan a different story.

“How about this - I’ll come over and help you with our homework, and we can think of it as a study group. We’re both learning, yeah?” Logan suggests.

“Yeah,” Virgil nods, a small smile creeping its way back onto his face. “Thanks, Logan.”

“Anything for a friend.”

+++

“So the French Revolution-“

“Which one?”

“Virgil-“

“Sorry, sorry, I just - I don’t know why we’re learning all of this? It seems… unnecessary.”

“Why don’t we take a break?” Logan stands from the desk chair and heads to the door. “We will resume in ten minutes.”

Virgil nods and pulls out his phone as Logan leaves, presumably to go to the bathroom. He scrolls through his notifications - a few from Tumblr, Instagram, until a text from Roman pops up.

From: Princey!!

          VIRGIL VIRGIL VIRGIL

To: Princey!!

          yes roman?

From: Princey!!

          DEE ASKED ME TO THE WINTER FORMAL

         AS A DATE

         WERE GOING ON A DATE

To: Princey!!

          that’s awesome!! glad he finally smartened up

From: Princey!!

          Me too!!!!!!! :)))!!!

         Now you just have to smarten up and ask out Logan and we can go on a triple date!!

To: Princey!!

          triple?

From: Princey!!

          Remus asked Patton out yesterday!!!!

Virgil decided not to answer just ask Logan walked back in. The latter checked his watch. “Still have six minutes left of our break, it seems.”

“Yeah,” Virgil mumbles. At Logan’s concerned look, he elaborated. “Dee finally asked Roman out. They’re going to the Winter Formal together.”

“Thank heavens,” Logan sighs, slumping down into his chair. “If I hear Roman complaining about how Dee won’t ask them out one more time …”

“And, uh… Remus is going with Patton.”

“Really? I’m surprised he didn’t chicken out,” Logan says, shrugging. “So, that just leaves you and me, right?”

“Yeah, um, we’re the only two without…” Virgil’s eyes flick down to Logan’s lips, and he truly hopes that his friend is as oblivious as he says. He swallows hard, adding,  “Without dates.”

“So the logical thing would be to go with each other.”

And Virgil is glad he didn’t choose to take a drink at that moment. His face goes red and he stammers out, “You… you want to go, uh, together? As-“

“As friends, yes. I’m sure it would make for a less… lonely night.” Logan looks unsure, “that is, of course, if you’re not planning on asking someone else.”

“I’m not!” Virgil answers too quickly. “I’m… I’m not.”

“Satisfactory. I suppose we should coordinate, then. What’s your favourite colour?”

+++

“As friends?”

“As friends,” Virgil sighs, adjusting his backpack straps as he walks with Roman. “But he still wants to match, so I’m here to find a blue tux and a purple tie, and honestly, is blue really my colour?”

“Virgil, calm down,” Roman pauses their walking, thankful that the mall isn’t very crowded. “You’re getting worked up. Blue will look lovely on you, I promise. Is he wearing the same thing?”

Virgil takes a deep breath and opens his eyes that he didn’t know he closed. “No, uh, he’s getting a purple suit and blue tie.”

Roman’s gasp would’ve scared Virgil, had he not seen the excitement in his friends' eyes. “You’re wearing each others colours? Virgil that is truly-“

“Say adorable and you’re dead.”

“-adorable.”

“And now I’m shopping without you,” Virgil begins walking away, until Roman catches up to him and reminds him which of the two of them has style, and which one wears a hoodie everyday.

They spend the afternoon going from suit shop to suit shop, only getting mildly distracted when Roman sees a dress they just had to try on.

Finally, they find the perfect suit - navy blue, and very subtly pinstriped. Along with that, Virgil buys a purple tie, matching almost perfectly to the patches on his hoodie.

He’s as ready as he’ll ever be.

+++

Logan sharply knocks three times, and stands back, waiting for the door to open.

“Oh, hello Logan!” Says Virgil’s mother. “Come in, come in, Virgil is almost ready.”

Logan nods, accepting the invitation. He stands in the doorway, tapping his foot. He pats his pocket, and soon after all his worries come to the front of his head. What if he hates it? What if it’s inappropriate for a school dance? What if-

“Logan?” Virgil is right in front of Logan, waving his hand in his face. “You alright?”

“Yes, I’m…” Logan takes the opportunity to finally look at Virgil - his blue suit fitted perfectly around his shoulder, his white shirt contrasting perfectly with his pale skin. Logan feels his mouth go dry, because damn is he gay . “...fine.”

Virgil smirks, “you sure about that?”

“Yes, I am perfectly alright.” Logan clears his throat, “you look… very handsome.”

“Oh, uh, thank you,” Virgil flushes. “You look great, too.”

“Thank you,” Logan smiles.

“Shall we go?”

“Oh, um, actually,” Logan pulls the small box from his pocket. “I got you something.”

Virgil takes the box, the look of surprise on his face morphing into excitement. He pulls out the handkerchief, black with constellations printed on it. “Logan, this is… beautiful. Thank you.”

“Of course. You spoke about how fascinated you were by the stars and I saw it and thought of you, so...” he pulls out a second handkerchief. “I got one for myself, as well. Now we are truly matching.”

Virgil fiddles with the handkerchief and eventually manages to fit it into his pocket. “Now, shall we go?”

“Let’s.”

+++

The venue is decorated with blues and silvers, snowflakes at every table and white Christmas lights strung on the ceiling.

The group found table 16 and sat down with their respective dates.

“So, Logan,” starts Roman. “How’re you enjoying your first official dance at Sanders High?”

“I suppose it’s satisfactory. Though I’m sure the food will not be to my liking,” Logan looks at Virgil and mutters, “my date is quite nice, however.”

The flush on Virgil’s face is enough to tell Logan that he’d heard. “It’s never good, by the way,” he answers.

The DJ turns on a slow song, and Virgil proposes, “Do you want to dance?”

“It would be my honour.”

The two make their way to the dance floor, holding hands and sufficiently blushing. Virgil holds onto Logan’s waist as Logan moves his hands to Virgil’s shoulders. They sway for a short while until Patton “accidentally” pushes them closer together.

Chest to chest, Logan feels his heart figuratively pounding out of his chest. He looks up at Virgil and his partner smiles, and Logan is overwhelmed. He leans up.

He leans up and kisses him.

Virgil, to his credit, is only surprised for about three and a half seconds before he kisses back. His hands move from Logan’s waist to his cheeks, and he pulls him in impossibly closer.

They break apart when the song ends, and pretend to ignore the cheering from their friends. Slowly, Virgil leans down again for a soft, shorter kiss.

“So,” Virgil says.

“So,” Logan replies.

“What do you say we go on a real date, hmm?”

“You mean going to a school dance as friends and then kissing halfway through doesn’t count as a real date?” Logan chuckles, “and here I thought I’d been doing it correctly.”

“You’re a dork.”

“Your dork.”

“Yeah, I guess you are mine.”

[spicy-mbti-memes]

How the Types Dump You

ESTJ: As you walk into the room, he is sitting at an office desk. He motions for you to sit down. (This confuses you greatly, because you don’t even have an office desk in your house; did he buy one just for this occasion?) He takes out his reading glasses and pulls out a file folder that you can see is extensively tagged with color-coded index notes. He opens it up and begins reading from a double-spaced, 5,000-word essay written in size 12 Times New Roman with in-text citations and a bibliography written in APA format. His essay lists every way in which you’ve ever failed to live up to his expectations in the relationship; the report concludes that there is no other rational choice but to fire you as his companion. He thanks you for your time and writes you a severance check (aka first and last month’s rent) before leaving. You shrug casually because, well, hey, it could’ve been worse: you could’ve been broken up with the way that the ENFP girl’s boyfriend on this list did.

ISTJ: ISTJs don’t break up with you. If you end up with an ISTJ, you’re either going to have to do the dirty work yourself, or you’re going to be stuck with them until you die.

Either that, or they’ll e-mail you from work while they’re on their lunch break (because they can’t send a personal e-mail during work hours, obviously).

ESTP: You walk into your apartment to see your ESTP boyfriend in the middle of having a literal orgy in your living room. “What the fuck are you doing?!” you scream at your ESTP boyfriend (and the twelve other people in the room, too, I guess), who seems genuinely confused somehow. “But I don’t even love them!” he continues to insist, not understanding how you could be so upset about this. “It’s just sex, what’s the big deal? Here, how about this: why don’t you join us? Would that make you feel better? The bowl of condoms is over there. They’re just for decoration and we’re not using them, but I thought I would show them to you anyway.”

ISTP: Sends you a letter in the mail from a clinic advising you to get tested for STDs.

ESFJ: You’ve been talking about starting to try for a baby for a while now, so you and your partner begin to make some preparations to help protect your future family - stashing away money for the down-payment on a house, trading in your car for a family van, filling out life insurance policies; routine stuff. But then, little things started happening; things so small that you only noticed in hindsight. The new lock on her phone that wasn’t there before. How often you caught her smiling to herself as she was texting. How much more often she was suddenly going on out-of-town work trips, or going out for a lady’s night, or having to stay late for work. How irritated she always seemed to be with you, and how little you were having sex despite actively trying to get pregnant. You were in denial at first, but slowly, you’re starting to put the pieces together. You make up your mind to confront her on the weekend, in case anything goes wrong and you suddenly have to go stay somewhere else.

Except you never get a chance to, because one morning, you wake up and your world looks completely different. You aren’t in your bed; in fact, you don’t seem to be anywhere at all. And that’s because you’re dead, because your wife poisoned you so that she could move overseas to be with her new hot 23-year-old boyfriend from Spain, and the money she got from your $250,000 life insurance policy.

ISFJ: Does it the proper, old-fashioned way: by sitting you down and explaining to you why it just isn’t working out. Fuck ISFJs and their wholesomeness and perfection preventing me from shitposting about them. =/

ESFP: Sends you a picture of themselves flipping the bird while sucking your best friend’s dick. Afterwards, texts you a detailed play-by-play of everything they did, and how much of a better lay he was than you. Oh, and how much bigger his dick was than yours, of course.

ISFP: Breaking up? Us? Oh, honey. Honey, no. You’re not going anywhere. I will murder your entire family if that’s what I have to do to stop them from being able to take you away from me. The police? Lmao, that’s cute. Let them come and watch me win the Oscar performance of the year as I cry about how you beat me, and drag you away to jail instead. No, baby, you’re not going anywhere. We’re never breaking up. We’re always going to be together. Forever.

ENTJ: He’s a wildly successful entrepreneur who ended up becoming a multi-millionaire. You’re the beautiful philanthropist and socialite trophy wife and stay-at-home mom who takes care of the kids. Together, you own homes in four different countries (one for each season, and several in Aspen and Montauk - just for the weekends, of course), a yacht, multiple sports cars, an entire room just for shoes, ties, and handbags, and a chef, a housekeeper, and a full-time, live-in nanny. Everything he owns is shiny, new, the latest model - everything, that is, except for you. So he cheats on you behind your back, divorces you when you find out about it, and then replaces you with a hotter, younger replica of yourself.

But hey, at least you got half of everything in the divorce. At least he was gracious enough not to have you assassinated, I guess.

INTJ: Calmly and rationally explains to you why it just wouldn’t work in the grand scheme of things. I mean, for one thing, having a wife (or even a serious girlfriend) just wasn’t a part of the life plan that he created for himself in the first grade; hell, it wasn’t even a part of the ten-year plan that he drew up for himself on the first day of high school. He’s not trying to be rude or insensitive, but he just doesn’t have the time to waste on pursuing empty, meaningless pursuits like social relationships or having a girlfriend. How is he going to meet his goal of becoming the youngest PhD holder in his state if he has to waste time doing things like talking to you?

Joke’s on him, though, because this is exactly how the movie Legally Blonde started, and doesn’t he know how that movie ended for someone like him?

ENTP: ENTPs don’t break up with you, because ENTPs don’t date anyone seriously in the first place. If, by some stroke of (horrible) luck, you actually did manage to get an ENTP to agree to hang out with you often enough under a context that could reasonably be construed as the two of you being “in a relationship”, they would probably get bored and cheat on you within weeks. But hey, if you’re a masochist and getting your heart broken repeatedly is your thing (lookin’ at you, INFxs), then do what makes you happy, man. I’m not judging.

INTP: Meh. Doesn’t really bother to break up with you. Continues to co-habitate with you while ceasing to continue putting any effort into the maintenance of the relationship, and just kind of letting it die a natural death. By the time it’s over, neither of you have cared for months.

ENFJ: Leaves you a length, caring, compassionate, “It’s not you, it’s me” goodbye letter on your bedside table in an attempt to soften the blow of gently explaining that she has decided to leave you and your life together in order to pursue her dream of cultivating relationships with multiple wealthy Sugar Daddies who fund her extravagant, globetrotting lifestyle.

INFJ: INFJs never truly break up with anyone. They keep the door open just the tiniest sliver, so that they can keep you around as their potential back-up plan in case their current relationship falls apart. After all, where are they going to get their identity and sense of self from if they’re alone?

ENFP: You come home after work and she isn’t there. None of her stuff is missing, so at first, you aren’t worried - she must just be running late, or made an impromptu decision to go see a friend. By 10 PM, you’re riddled with anxiety and the fear that something has gone horribly, horribly wrong. You call her friends. You call all the local hospitals and jails. You file a police report. But nothing ever comes of the investigation, and no one can figure out what happened to her - it’s like she dropped off the face of the Earth. The whole ordeal is emotionally devastating for you, but eventually life goes on, as it inevitably must.

Years later, you turn on your computer and have a new friend request on Facebook. It’s your ex-girlfriend. You find out that she’s been living on a hippie commune in the Costa Rican rainforest for the past three years. She felt “stifled and trapped” by her old life, she tells you, and felt like she “needed a change from the oppressive grind of daily life”. She can’t understand why you’re so upset about it; shouldn’t you be happy for her for finally getting to live out her dream?

You hang up the phone and never think about her again.

INFP: Ghosts you.

That’s it. That’s literally it. You’ll never hear from them again. It’s like they just never existed. After a while, you start to wonder whether they ever really did, or if they were just a figment of your imagination.

(If you’re an INTP, then this is probably true. Your caring, squishy uwu INFP senpai girlfriend was all a product of your lonely imagination.)

[skvaderarts]

Hiraeth Chapter 22: Proposition

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Twenty-Two: Proposition

Note: This entire chapter feels like a shitpost, and I love it. Also, dear god have I been busy working on things for a physical release of the fic! You’ll hear more about that next week on Wednesday, but if you are interested in beta reading, I have left a form below. Doing it myself is tricky, and there is a free copy in it for you bound in your choice of type (hardback, paperback, hardback with a paper cover, etc) and you will receive credit because I’m not a monster XD. 

I think I want to do it as a charity thing, so suggest charities the proceeds should be donated to in the form below even if you’re not interested in being a beta reader! The size of the charity is irrelevant. They just have to be credible (IE not a nightmare like Autism Speaks or the Salvation Army, or PETA, not to get judgy or upset anyone. They just have a very bad rep.) Anyway, enough of that! Back to the story!

(-~-)

By all accounts, the initial plan had been simple enough. They were going to eat dinner and then see where the evening took them. The only issue was that not a single one of them had really thought the plan through. That was typical enough, all things considered, but none of them really considered the fact that accomplishing that goal might be a little bit harder than they had originally expected it to be. Namely because of one major problem.

While Sirrus’s intentions had been pure enough when he had offered to cook, and V’s had been equally so when he had agreed to allow him to do so, the execution of those plans had left much to be desired. Making plans without knowing the full extent of their impact seemed to be something that ran in the Sparda family, regardless of the context of the plan, and while this was a minor occurrence in a sea of what had otherwise been huge high stakes situations, that didn’t change the fact that it was literally impossible to cook without food. And if it wasn’t, no one present wanted to know how that was done.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but it seems that you might be a little short on… everything at the moment.” Sirrus said as politely as he could, clearly amused by the utter emptiness that he was presented with when he opened the cabinet door. “Am I getting my hopes up by assuming that you have something in the refrigerator, or are we just going to have to make a run to the store? I mean, we’re probably going to have to for what I had in mind, but still.”

V felt himself die a little inside at his companion’s polite yet ruthless assessment of his current living situation. Sirrus was entirely correct, it was too much to hope for. He hadn’t really been home much recently, if at all since he had acquired the place, and as such, grocery shopping had been very low on his list of priorities. It had been easier to just grab something and call it a day in the two days that he had actually been in the house so far. He only wished that he had thought of that before he’d offered to allow Sirrus to cook! He could have saved himself a lot of unneeded embarrassment.

Was this what it felt like to be Dante? Because if it was, that was a tragedy. The only upside to his current situation was that Lucia, Nico, and Nero were in the next room talking, so they were not able to experience his deep loathing and shame first hand, not to mention the verbal beatdown that he had just suffered at Sirrus’s hands. Or should he say vocal cords? Either way, the point still stood that he did indeed need to procure food because the only thing available to consume in the house was peeling wallpaper, dried-out paint, and dust. And knowing V’s luck, Shadow had probably already consumed those already when he wasn’t looking. That was absolutely something she would do.

“I would say the latter is the most true, given the options at hand. That is not to say that the second option is not correct, as it absolutely is… but that’s not the type of narrative I’d like to weave at this juncture.” V “But the thankful receiver bears a plentiful harvest, so it is probably best that I simply accompany you to the store so I can see to it that my cabinets are not as bare as Dante’s office is dark.”

Sirrus nodded as he closed a stary cabinet door, turning to fully face the slightly frazzled young man. “That seems agreeable enough. Hopefully my matter of fact, no-nonsense way of stating the obvious wasn’t as abrasive as it seems now that I am able to look back on it. Hindsight is 2020, as they say.” He straightened out his long shirt, adjusting his shoulders as he allowed his head to pull from side to side. He was slightly uncomfortable as, for the first time, he stepped close enough to V to notice that they were largely the same size and stature. What an eye-opening realization. “I’m sarcastic, some would even sardonic, but I like to think I’m not unfeeling. I’ve yet to lose my grip on the reality of the world around me and start to view the rest of the world with a sort of cold dissonance like so many around me have. What do people call that now? Being edgy? Somehow I am under the impression that that might not be the proper use of that term.”

V brushed him off, taking a step to the side instead of taking a step back. He wasn’t intimidated by the tall redhead despite the fact that he was sure that he probably had ample reason to be. There was a certain mysterious quality to him that was carefully outlined with a certain measure of involuntary menace that he couldn’t quite place, and his prior comments didn’t help in that regard. There was just something… feral about him, some sort of wild strength that he knew that his guest could reach into if he wished to do so and bring to bear against those he considered deserving of it. It was something that he could just feel in the pit of his stomach, a sort of primordial sense of strength and power that reminded him of his own family, but it was notably different in a way that was hard to describe. Was it darker somehow? Was that the right way to put it? 

But that wondering was enough to keep him grounded in a situation like this. He seemed trustworthy, but he would still keep his guard up until he was absolutely sure, even if he wasn’t actively trying to do so. It was simply instinct, and going with his gut had kept him alive this long, so he was going to continue doing so. If it wasn’t broken, then he wasn’t going to fix it. “Think nothing of it. I take no offense to you stating the obvious. I don’t think that there has been food in this house in at least a decade.”

“Probably longer than that, if I remember correctly. This place has been empty for about fifteen years. After the will was read, Magnolia’s side of the family cleaned the place out as quickly as they could before they went their separate ways. Quite a lot of bad blood between them, from what I could tell. It was a shame how that all played out, but grief brings out the worst in people, especially when the root cause of that grief is so… unexpected.” The man with the long red hair peered out of the back door for a moment as though he were expecting something or perhaps had heard a commotion of some sort. He seemed to study the bushes against the back wall for a long moment before continuing. “As per your request… that is more than fine by me. I won’t, then. I shall pretend that we never mentioned the food in the first place.”

“You say that as though you were personally there to see it. You seem too young to have witnessed something of that nature, but you have first-hand knowledge of it from a viewpoint that would suggest that you were a neutral party witnessing it from within the inner circle of what was going on.” V was admittedly curious as to how Sirrus would explain something like that in a way that made sense. Or would it make sense at all? Who was to say. He would simply have to wait and find out. “I had assumed that we were quite close in age. But then again, everyone knows what they say about assuming things. I should have known better than to think that I know everything about someone that I barely know. My mistake.”

“Looks can be deceiving, as I’m sure you know first hand. Your family is quite literally living proof of that concept. I assure you however that I was present. I just seem younger than…” He stopped, catching himself as though he were about to say something that he didn’t mean to, waiving off both his near mistake and V’s apology casually. V was clever, something that he had pegged about him from the very first moment that they had made eye contact. It was something intrinsic in the way that he held himself, and every time that he had opened his mouth since then had only served to strengthen that notion. But now his keen intellect was becoming troublesome, not that it changed anything in the end either way. ”That quote from before about the harvest… William Blake, if I remember correctly? I’m quite fond of his works, especially the illustrations. Quite the brilliant man.” He stopped for a moment, seemingly considering something before looking over at the doorway. He then nodded quietly to himself before redirecting his attention towards V once more, finding his companion’s silence interesting. He seemed to be waiting for him to continue. “Personally, Mary Shelly is my all-time favorite. Frankenstein and all that. I have a more contemporary favorite as of late, but telling you that might say more about me than I mean for it to, so I’ll keep it to myself for now.

Now V had more questions than answers. Sirrus was a walking mystery, and the more that he spoke, the more V questioned his own perception and his impression of him changed. It was as fascinating as it was confounding, but he couldn’t say that he disliked it. There was just something captivating about not being able to read him, regardless of how hard he tried. A part of him wondered if anyone else in his family had this issue. He would ask them when presented with the chance to do so. Well then, back to what we were discussing before.”

“We were discussing something before? I can’t say that I remember anything. But I do recall you saying to “think nothing of it.” The playfully smug, all-knowing tone of voice that he spoke in was enough to make V shake his head and roll his eyes, but he resisted. It was a welcome juxtaposition to the conversation that they had just indulged in, and they were both somehow simultaneously relieved that they didn’t have to indulge in it any longer.

He couldn’t help but snicker somewhat at that response. Sirrus was endearingly hatstand, wasn’t he? Despite the unintentionally tense conversation that they had just indulged in, the white-haired summoner couldn’t help but be amused. It was complicated, and yet so very simple. “Let’s go to the store, Sirrus. I’ll tell the others that we will return shortly. You may accompany me if you’d like.”

Sirrus nodded politely, using both hands to signal to him that he was to walk first as he bowed lower than what was needed and stepped back out of his companion’s way. V scoffed in amusement but went along with his slightly antiquated gesture, admittedly entertained by it. Yes, this had to be what other people felt like when they met him for the first time. He understood why they looked at him like that now. Slowly but surely, it was all coming together.

(-~-)

From what they could tell, the store was mostly empty. It was nearly 9 o’clock at night, and it seemed that everyone who wanted to buy groceries had done so by then. While it was understandable that most people in the city wouldn’t want to start cooking this late, it was still a little bit surreal to see just how few people were willing to make a midnight dash to the supermarket to stock up on general goods and necessities. One could only imagine that recent events in the region had made people more than a little bit jumpy, but this was an entirely new level of silent unrest that made an already somewhat eerie environment that much more uncomfortable.

As the absentmindedly browsed the shelves in relative silence, V shifted in discomfort. He couldn’t shake the persistent feeling that something simply wasn’t right, and that he should go with his gut and leave this place before something happened. Although it was basically impossible to predict something like that, V was convinced that the persistent feeling of unrecognizable dread that he felt brewing in the very pit of his stomach was something more substantial than he was allowing himself to believe. And under the guise of trying not to seem silently panicked, he couldn’t help but feel a nameless terror overtake him. This feeling that he felt was familiar in the worst way possible. It reminded him of the train ride back in Lucia’s homeland, the strange subconscious sensation that he was no longer in the driver’s seat in regards to his own cognitive feedback. And the idea that his enemy might be trying to do something, anything at all, was not good. He needed to do something fast.

“I apologize if my being around you alone is subconsciously offputting. I get the impression that you are disturbed, and you probably aren’t sure what that is just yet. Let me assure you that it is in fact, me, and that I am not doing so intentionally.” Sirrus casually reached up and took a can down from a shelf, turning it over in his hands absentmindedly as he studied it to see if it was something that he could use. “But the disturbance that you feel is most certainly tangible. I recognized your specific gifts and aptitudes a while back. You have a heightened sensitivity to certain things. Very useful if utilized correctly.” 

He paused for a moment to look at V, seemingly waiting for him to respond in some way. As he realized that his companion wasn’t speaking, he sighed with bated breath, looking slowly from side to side as he checked to make sure that no one was around them. Not that he needed his eyes to do that. It was more for V’s benefit than his own, in any case. “To someone with a trained eye, abilities like that stick out like a sore thumb, especially when the person in possession of them doesn’t yet know how to control them. But that is not to say that you don’t have amazing potential if only someone were to educate you as to how to do deliberately what already comes to you so naturally.”

“Gifts? What are you…” V paused as he considered what he wanted to say next. Sirrus could see something about him that the rest of the people he knew couldn’t? That was alarming to him for reasons that he couldn’t quite place at the moment. Was he that obvious? What else had he been doing that he just hadn’t noticed was a dead giveaway in regards to his true nature? Could anyone else tell, or was that something specific to Sirrus?

“Your grandfather is the Dark Knight Sparda, yes? I couldn’t help but notice your surname. He was a good man. And he was very powerful. I see things in both you and your brother that I do not see in your older relatives.” He seemed to be speaking carefully as he headed to the center aisle in his search for… whatever it was that he was looking for to cook dinner with. He seemed to notice V’s quiet, well-concealed panic, but the atmosphere had changed notably in the air around them. There was a certain latent hostility to V’s demeanor that hadn’t been there before, and for the first time since he’d arrived in town to carry out his mission, he felt genuinely threatened by someone. While he had indeed encountered resistance, nothing so far had felt so pure, so dynamic in its ability to utterly destroy him, and he got the impression that neither V nor himself truly knew what the young man with the white hair was capable of at that moment. And as exhilarating as that might be under most circumstances, this was far from the case at this moment in time. 

It was time to start explaining himself.

“... Sometimes things skip a generation, carried in latent genes by your forebears. This may be one of those cases. That’s what makes me as powerful as I am in some regards. And it is why we have what I like to call Dry Generations; instances in which nothing particularly interesting happens.” The hostility level didn’t decrease much, and Sirrus took a mental note of that, preparing himself should the worst happen. And he hoped with every fiber of his being that it wouldn’t. Something told him that if he had to resort to that, Vergil wouldn’t appreciate him having to explain it after the fact, and the last thing he wanted to have to do was pry Yamato out of his own chest. Vergil had quite the throwing arm. And as fast as he was, he wasn’t sure he was quite that fast. “But when more interesting individuals are born, well, they are most certainly more… intriguing. You and Nero seem to fit that bill nicely.”

“Are you threatening me?” V asked point-blank, his posture slightly more straight than it had been a moment before. Perhaps without thinking it, V had shifted into a readied stance, unwilling to be taken off guard by any kind of sudden attack. Resorting to this kind of public display of power had to be against some code of ethics or something, but he wasn’t going to stand there and take something like that laying down if it came to it. He needed to make that clear, even if Magnolia probably wouldn’t appreciate him bringing Sirrus to her in the middle of the night filled with puncture wounds from Shadow and several broken bones from a trip off of a local roof, courtesy of Griffon. He just hoped that he wouldn’t need to do that. And although he was somewhat sure that he wouldn’t need to, that didn’t change the fact that he might still need to defend himself.

In a moment of self-awareness, Sirrus shook his head, stepping back slightly as he allowed his head to rest on the edge of the center bin that he stood next to. There was some kind of meat inside of it with a sale sign next to it, but that would only become relevant if they made it out of this encounter in one piece. What a fascinating reaction. I would have never thought that he was capable of actually being overtly aggressive considering his physical state and general disposition. He normally has such a mild mentality.” He thought to himself as he let his arms fall to his sides, wanting to demonstrate as clearly as possible that he was not trying to intimidate V or cause him any harm. One could only imagine what he had been through in his young life, and he wasn’t going to add to that pain and suffering if he could help it. 

Maybe it was simply the demon side of him showing itself a little in that moment as a natural defense mechanism? He knew that they were not entirely human, after all, and he had no idea how much demonic blood ran through his veins. It mattered very little if he was being truthful with himself. His pedigree alone ensured that he was powerful, And that was something he could deeply sympathize with on an extremely personal level. He too carried his own darkness locked away deep within himself, even if it was a different form of it. He couldn’t judge him for the one time he slipped up. Hell, he’d give him a hug if he wasn’t so sure it would get him stabbed through the gut with V’s cane.

“Oh, perish the thought. Not even slightly. I wouldn’t dare. Though I do admit that it probably seems that way.” He watched V relax slightly, at least physically, sliding back into the comfortable leaning position that he was accustomed to associating with him. It made him wonder what the young summoner had been through that had made him this way, or if perhaps it was a one-off fluke reaction to this exact situation. Maybe he could ask him another time when he calmed all the way down. It seemed that he had at least a little bit of his father in him after all. “Quite the opposite though. I am extending an invitation. I would like to help you with that. Now, were you thinking fin or fang in regards to protein for this meal? It seems we have simpler choices to make this time around. But something tells me it won’t always be that way. Darkness looms on the horizon, and I have the feeling that something sinister might be readying itself just out of view.”

V gave him an apprehensive look, unsure as to what to really say to that. This entire conversation had certainly changed his outlook on a few things, to say nothing of how it had nearly taken a turn for the worst. He needed ample time to think things through. He was used to being the logical, level-headed one in situations like this. Something about that conversation had severely taken him out of his element, But at least a few of his questions had been answered, even if more now lingered in the back of his mind. And more importantly, there hadn’t been a public display of supernatural violence that could have destroyed both of them and the building along with them. 

Sighing gently as if to physically rid himself of the toxic experience he had just suffered through, V looked at Sirrus, the both of them somehow knowing that the other regretted what had almost just happened even without saying it. It was best to leave things alone for now and just leave this store. Maybe the building itself was driving them both insane. “Fang.”

(-~-)

Gosh, writing this chapter makes me want to work on the story that I’ve been wanting to write for so long now. But not yet! I don’t pick projects up easily after I walk away from them, so for now, I will wait. There is still much to be done with this AU, but gosh writing Sirrus gets me in the mood for that. Let’s just say he doesn’t originate from this AU universe.

Here is the link to the form! It’s only 4 questions and should take about two minutes to answer. Thank you! You’re a big help to me. I want it to be clear that I’m not making anything from this fic, I just want to do something neat for charity and give you something cool in return.

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1jD0AKYiX3EfLjt-M_Rk8CapJ0GdzVqB-9oDMhV3SG2A/edit?usp=sharing

Sorry for my rambling this week! I’m just excited, I guess! Also, a special thank you to the like 2 people on Tumblr that like my chapters every week. I like your energy =^~^=