#and you are disgusting to have this much effort to destroy someone's life

[eunzul]

Dear anon,

✨Fuck you✨

- eunzul

[the-monkeies-girl]

If You Only Knew. ( Noa x Human!Reader. ) Part Thirteen.

oh mg god

Title: If You Only Knew. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Sexual implications, injury, mentions of blood. ) Pairing: Noa x Human!Reader. Words: 7K. ( Shorter but every word HURTS. ) Summary: Noa is taken to you. Once more, one more time and one more chance to tell you how he feels.

READ THE SERIES HERE.

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No one came back for you. 

There was no satisfaction in feeling a set of arms lined with fur drenching themselves against your body and carrying you off to safety as you began the decline into the inevitable. Soona--- you whimpered gently, she… Did the right thing. You’d have not come back for an Echo either, so terrible and flushed with misery and inherent selfishness to destroy all of the good in their lives. You’d have left the body alone to shatter into char and to be completely unrecognizable. Her people… Her Clan. Your Clan. Your people… More important. You’d perish with it, rightfully so, never to be remembered in the future, never to be thought of anymore as nothing more than the Echo who brought down the entire three-hundred years of established cultures and families. 

There was no indication outside the roaring of the flames of an Ape calling out to you to help, of someone there to cast you back to reality and to tell you to hold on for just a little more. Self-pity had to be the last thing you felt before actually succumbing, how bitter a thought and how cruel the world was to you as your appendages all went numb against the heated ground, soot seeping into your mouth and coating the inside of your lungs with disgusted ash and resin that you were choking on but could not bring yourself to cough out, your head splitting itself open from the inside out like your brain wanted nothing more than to escape in a last-ditch effort to save at least your subconscious.

There was nothing for you, you figured and waited in baited anticipation of what lay beyond. You had gotten the only satisfaction you were seeking; seeing a life with Noa that you were not going to have. Feeling Noa against you knowing that it was never meant to be your body there, carrying a child with him to fruition, passing on the knowledge of both Echo and Ape… Lost and gone for both of you, a shred of guilt resting against your esophagus as all you wanted was to cry but had no energy to foster a chortle.

The Chimp would find a way to do it himself, he was obsessive in that aspect, you tried to calm your racing mind as you tore through the burns that left you here in the first place. No more resentment towards him for letting you go months ago, no more wondering what would have happened if you did not agree to his terms and he let you out into the world a year ago. No more… Noa for your eyes to feast on, the ripping of his muscles such a delicacy on their own, no meeting gazes from across the bonfire as Anaya told one of his crazed and elaborate stories, no more interactions on the basis that you were going to teach him something new… This was okay, your mind rested. Your fingers flattened on the ground and you kissed the blue feather of Eagle Sun into the Earth itself. 

Caressing bare skin was unusual, the sense pulling you back from the tether you had against the chains of bargaining. You always hated it when you compared it to the way it felt to have Noa brushing against your bare flesh. Human… too much like your own, too sweaty and too flushed, easy to break apart and torture to the extent of intense agony. You wanted to pull your arm back from the grasp, snatched and barked at whoever was touching you that you were not to be cradled by anyone but Noa but they were persistent, words flurrying around your ear drums but failing to process beyond a mild muffle. It was just the fire crackling, you figured and thought nothing of the inflictions. It was whispering to you that it was your time to go and out of arrogance, you chose to ignore it because you were unable to admit if you wanted to leave or not.

One part of you did; to fall asleep and not have to worry about the sun rising in the morning and the innate responsibilities that rested on your shoulders for being different and having to face the Clan in their demise, their eyes flooding you with judgment that you were the reason for the destruction in the first place. You’d be forced to leave, they’d all hate you and you’d rather embrace death then have to admit to yourself that they were right to always despise Echo, yourself included in that equation. 

One part of you didn't; wanting to stay awake long enough to see Noa once more so you could truly tell him that you needed him… That you… Needed his approval and his affection or else you were going to die without satisfaction and pleasure. To mutter how sorry you were that this all happened and that you were flooded with acute regret for taking the sweetened agreement that just got more and more drenched in coated honey that it was a temptation you were unable to stop yourself from biting at. You hoped one way or another he was going to forgive you for you were unable to forgive yourself.

A breath left your body when your arm was pulled, the sensation so dulled in the scape of the other injuries that riddled your body and you were under the safe assumption that Death herself came to grab you, pulling the arm right out of the socket as she dragged you to the deepest parts of the abyss.

 Fluttering against the ground, you were nothing more than dead weight and she realized that, holding on a bit tighter around your bruised wrist and tugged harder, skidding your body against the dirt and filling each lifeless pore with more dirtiness. You were unsure where that was, where in intended place you were being scooted to was but you hoped it was somewhere warm as chill ran through your spine and entangled itself against each vertebrate, kissing it to the point of paralysis and you were unable to even move your head to see what was happening as the landscape in front of your terror ladened eyes began to change.

From dirt coating the front of your body, scraping relentlessly through the thinned, crimson soaked t-shirt and into your navel and tearing away at your skin.

To flushed grass that sounded like heavy boots crunching and killing each of the shards. You felt bad for them, meeting Death so swiftly when you had the privilege to see it so close and personal, forming a relationship with her that you were never going to get in life itself. 

To the sediment of the forest's edge as you felt gravity taking a turn against you, head frantic to find some stability as you were propped up against the wooden embankment of a tree-trunk. She was preparing you, your lips parting in exaltation as you accepted it. The blood encrusted feather in your hand raised as you offered it to her. Take… Take it back to Noa for me, tell him… how much I’m sorry to leave… I needed to though, I can’t… hold on… Your head teetered forward, your neck muscles unable to hold any semblance of stability to tighten and stay active. 

“You need-”

A smile split across your face at the voice. Yeah, death was going to be a Human. The worst imaginable, the same inclination thoughts about Apes you had when you first laid eyes on Noa, Anaya and Soona, never realizing the impact they would have on you in the coming months that lead to this lusted for moment when Death would kiss you and take the last breath for herself, storing it for blackmail in the afterlife. The mind was running on its own as your eyelids were unable to come into any sort of position to properly see what had just occurred and where Death had taken you. 

Limbo, maybe. Awaiting a sentence that you knew was going to come hammering down on you for it was not coming from the Apes who granted you refuge, though they deserved it all the same. All your life as a Human making biased assumptions towards the very family who gave you a second life, who gave you a second chance to change your view points. All selfishly thrown away for just one of them… Your lips parted again as you managed to get yourself to whisper a small utterance.

 “Noa…” The feather you canted between your fingertips, a symbol of your lack of understanding and your lack of willingness to let go, reached itself up in a stroke towards the Heavens as if you were going to take off to the sky with it. “Noa.”

“Get up---”I don’t want to, you whispered inside of your mind, legs finally coming back to some feeling as you felt the shattering of your calves, not able to heal themselves and ingrained with dirt from a fight you needed to win to see Noa’s face once more. To hold him and to tell him in acute silence that it was all going to be alright and that you were going to get him safe.“You---”

The voice was breaking up, you whimpered quietly in your spot and reached your feather placed hand out to grasp at Death again. Don’t leave me now! I can’t go back… I’m s.. So afraid… 

“Need to help---” I’d rather die, you tucked the feather into the hand that out-stretched itself to help you get steady, refusing the help and admiration from the darkness and allotted your body against the ground as it had been before. Would the feather make it to Noa? You had no idea, but you hoped that the Reaper would be kind enough to show you one more grace. One more good thought and good deed as you rested your head against the ground, the notion of your split head nothing more than a tacknote in how it felt to just embrace what you were. As an Echo who loved an Ape. As part of the Eagle Clan itself, you wanted nothing more than to be a part of the Earth in death.

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The aggressive silence that radiated off the Ape, walking step-by-step with another Echo was abundantly clear in the shattering of twigs underweight of flat feet that were spaced with balanced toes and a pair of worn, nearly holed at the bottom was deafening to both as the ricocheting sounds reverberated through the entire wooded area. Noa was unsure, his rustled fur against his body on edge at every turn that this Echo made in the westward direction. Every turn of the head that this smaller frame made caused Noa’s bloodshot eyes to narrow and scan him again incase he had missed a hidden weapon, in case Noa was being lead to the ultimate fight to the Death with the knowledge that the only thing that was keeping his muscles together at this point was the prospect of seeing you again. Conversation was sparse, save for the idle mention earlier as the trek began that you were not in a state of consciousness and he was even hesitant to leave you in the first place to die on your own; the Echo was adamant that no one deserved to die alone and that was something Noa full heartedly agree with that, but only with you. This Echo. Very well could die alone at the hands of Noa’s strength and he’d feel nothing as the heart ceased to beat as long as you were safe and accounted for in the grand scheme. He contemplated it, watching the fall and rise of the shoulders and gesturing directions to him, broader than your own and all the more powerful and able to defend themselves as Noa tore away from the vision he got of your bloodied and tattered body. Seething at that, teeth bared themselves momentarily and shined with the glistening of the morning sun making itself known against the crisped landscape. He was… unable to defend you… Unable to stop the infliction against your soft skin, unable to hold and cradle your head when you came crashing down from the horse after trying to bid yourself into an escape. Noa--- his stomach churned as they rounded a blueberry bush, all familiar to him now as they were nearing the edge of the clan, his thick and calloused fingertips brushing the foliage with reminiscent melancholy of how many times your knees brushed their surfaces as you went foraging for berries, nestled so deeply in the bush that Noa thought you would disappear if you went any further. 

Noa contemplated it again; killing this Echo for even admitting that he was a part of the plan from the beginning and he did nothing but grovel for himself. Pitifully, the Master of the Birds thought and heard Eagle Sun crouch a cry into the stagnant air, enough to tell Noa what was happening. Pushing aside the lingering idea that Noa was more like this Echo than he was willing to bring to the forefront, both afraid once, both bargaining for their place in the world, Noa playing pieces with his own Clan’s safety and this Echo playing a piece with a azure feather, he hated that he felt a lick of sympathy at all as the scattering calls from Eagle Sun grew louder with each reinvigorating step he was taking, one after the other pained and slanted as he was unable to garner enough strength to balance his broad body, right arm in a slump of usefulness and his left, weaker than the dominant, fluttering to keep himself upright. “She gave you…” Noa finally spoke, feeling the feather tickling at the inside of his wrist where it had made its bloodied home against the fur that was dressed tightly in the arm band used to hold Eagle Sun without his talons causing extensive damage to the toughened skin that lined Noa’s body. His voice felt to be a different part of him, so far off, so unfamiliar to his ears that were still ringing from being shattered into the mud. Noa wanted to speak more, to instigate this further but the captivation of smothering in his lungs was too great to counterbalance the movements that were rocketing what felt like shattered rib pieces into the outer edges of his lungs.  “Feather. To bring…?”

“No,” Noa stopped moving and felt himself stiffen at that brute answer, tilting his head and feeling his teeth scrape against his lips as he wanted to bark in aggressive intimidation for an answer. “I took it from her. She kept…” 

The Echo also stopped a few feet in front of Noa and turned around to face his prudent captor and for the first time, the Ape got a good look at him. Sickly, from malnourishment, incredibly sunken in cheeks and a chiseled brow-line that was hardened from years of being exposed to the most deadliest of predators; Apes and Echo alike. Below the brow rested blue eyes, not too dissimilar from Noa’s in the stance they held.

Reservation, the knowledge that this was all a tossup and either one of them could come out the champion. He was better hiding it than Noa though, the Chimp had to admit that defeat as he only longed to place his gaze on you and trying to convince himself otherwise was futile. Tousled, dark blond hair that bled into a more honey-golden when he stepped in the right light, Noa noticed as he came forward, slowly at first as Noa hunched his body, flinching only momentarily as he yearned for his right arm to become comprehensive. 

“She kept mumbling about this Noa,” He uttered, “I figured that was you, the leader. The feather was just to get you here.” He tilted his chin back towards the direction that they were trailing, back to the Clan. “You’re the whole reason she fought so hard in the first place to keep your home from burning to the ground. Which proved pointless, we still came--- And well, we’re not all heartless, she deserves to at least have someone she knows there when she dies.”

What a sick and twisted way to show what Noa wanted to consider empathy, his mouth running dry and eyes widening at the words. She deserves to have someone she knows there when she dies. So… You were alive. That’s all his buzzed mind could comprehend from that, the racing of his heart inside of the crackled nature of his chest racing towards that without thinking about the other implications of the statement. Alive… You were alive, this Echo had no reason to lie to Noa… Well, he… did. Enough reason lay in the bounds between species. There was a confliction running through the collarbones and zapping down his spine. 

You were alive… But this Echo was bringing him near you so you could experience the last death to bear witness to your pupils, Noa’s blood falling into your face for the last time as you cried before being taken yourself. A game as evil and conniving as the group of ravenous Apes that lead to your untimely arrival at the Clan, forcing your way into all aspects and into Noa himself to the point where there was no vivid future without you with him.

Noa was unwavering in his stare, from eye to eye to get any indication that the truth was being spoken but there was nothing there for him to read, Noa cursing inside of his mind and falling into a pit of self-deprecation that he had become so accustomed to reading your emotions splayed on your face that he figured it would be easy to do with a different Echo. Noa did take notice regardless of the lack of expressions that he was taking a deep breath in and releasing it painfully as if Noa himself were threatening the very air that was encasing the surrounding area. Like a pestilence, like a plague. 

This… Noa felt his shredded mouth open for a split second as he reached for another question but nothing came to bear fruit from his worthless tongue. This Echo's body stance told him and reminded Noa that… You were not the same even if he came to offer your rescue. This was not empathy, Noa recognized. What you had shown him in the past, talking about his father, the loss of the Clan before this time, was crusted with flecks of empathy that were palpable and tasted so sweet that you were whispering them directly into his mouth. This was… Cruelty. To bring him to you only to see you for an instant before you were taken again. Not satisfaction, not a trace of forgiveness… 

Noa glowered as they turned and began moving forward again, muttering something under their breath about only a few meters more, and he felt not an ounce of empathy for the Echo who bargained for his life like you had before. He’d drink the cruel potion, Noa thought, without hesitating. Anything at all to see you one more time in some desperate hope that maybe it would be enough for the Ape to have closure. He never got it with his Father, each step falling now dripping into the Earth with sorrow filled remembrance of the things that he had in life and the things that were taken from him.

The Echo would kill him in any other circumstance, Noa’s brain riddled itself with contradictions from the way he was raised, so peaceful and unsparing in fights as they’d grown to admire the ways of the Sky’s and not the aggressive ways of the Apes from Beyond the Valley.

But… Noa would do it first out of seeking and attributed revenge that this pathetic excuse for a life was unable to see your value and save you in the first place before the Chimp felt your soul slipping away from him when you laid your life for him. Soona taking him away though Noa felt the fear of his muscles convulsing to go back and to save you instead. Noa recalled in a bloodied fit of terror to go back, too weak to use his body and his words were nothing but crimson against teeth, telling Soona to take him back and to let him drag you to safety. 

Something, anything… Noa felt bile rise in the back of his throat and it stung the already saliva coated crevice as he tried to swallow back the bitter taste of his thoughts and ideas, the ideologies springing from the night before. Green claret irises were tired as they stared at this other Echo who wanted to do something selfless but Noa felt no relief for it. There was none for anyone but you. You were his Echo and he would feel not one shred of empathy of feelings towards any others. 

He could imagine you so vividly in front of him, body so accepting of the differences that laid between the two of you, willing to listen despite your mind having tugged you so often in the opposite direction. They were not all the same, these Echo who came and pillaged, this Echo who brought you back together. But they were not you, Noa needed to tell himself over and over again as he began to carry his body against the ground once more. Only a little bit more, he wanted to fall onto all fours and race ahead but he was unable to tear himself into the position to do that in the first place, no weight was substantiated against his right arm and Noa knew it was going to take time to heal from a Echo inflicted wound. 

He wondered for a second--- Thinking back at the tendering of your flesh from a year ago… How long it would take you to heal from what you sustained. The wounds against your calves, the beating against your head. Noa was unsure how hard you had been hit there, knowing that head injuries amongst Echo were always the fastest and most sparing way to take them out of their misery. There was a racked fear that when he got to you, Noa was going to be unable to say anything to you, grief riding along his diaphragm. 

You were in an awful state the second he saw you before battling, the darkness of the night no doubt shielding some bruises and internal damages from his sight. Noa felt his breath shatter right out of his mouth. What if… He whimpered to himself, what if there was something internally wrong and there was nothing more they could do and you would die from the inside out? What--- Noa’s teeth gritted together, easing the pain that was flushing through the remaining senses he had that were not already blown into obscurity. He’d have to watch you die, one way or another. Either here in this moment now as the Echo came to a slow stop and pointed down the minor embankment of a fallen tree trunk.

 Or… In the future, your face pressing against his as you recalled a good and prosperous life with him. Children… so many, Noa wanted, feeling himself crumble with the idea that it wasn’t even plausible anymore and you were going to be taken from him too soon. He wanted to be selfish as he looked upwards on the small hill. You were right there, Noa wanted to see as he felt sinus pressure build along with the idea that he had more tears to shed after the nightmare he had just been through, lack of sleep and conscious thought hitting at his mind and beating him into submission. You were right there for him… Smiling and telling him what a great life you had led indeed; how you were so… proud that he had chosen you, but that was always going to be the thing. Noa would have been proud of you… Never himself, you stuck this out, you did th--- 

His throat closed up in preparation as he lifted his large and sunken frame upwards, feeling the shift of the Earth under his body,  giving the Echo just one passing glance as if to say a minor ‘thank you’ for not taking him out. For allowing this. For taking him back to you. He could smell you. The richness and stomach-turning scent of your iron-clad blood mixing with that undertone that always drew him to you. Always brought him right back home. You did this… for him, for his freedom… Noa needed to repay you somehow.

Knees shattered straight onto the ground at the sight in front of his eyes, the stance large and sprinted as he literally tore himself into pieces to get his body down the small canal to reach you. Feet did not matter anymore, Noa uttered to himself, hands and feet, all appendages were on the ground, ignoring the deeply fascinated spring in his shoulder blade that was keeping the tendons there from eating at themselves. 

Alive, Noa needed the confirmation, unsure where the abysmal grunt he made came from as he rounded your body, his hands differentiating themselves into the leaf encrusted ground. Yelping to himself, Noa bit down on his tongue to get you into his one good arm, his body slamming itself against the tree you had once been propped up against, eyes trying to ignore the patch of hair that had been yanked right of your skull that rested in a crevice in the bark. 

“I---So…” Noa breathed through his nose paced and quickened. The comprehension he had pulled together for himself shattered right before him and he had no power to stop it as he got you between his legs, letting your form drape against his chest and the uproar of your weight against his damaged insides was enough to keep him awake. “Wa… What… did you do… Stupid Echo...” How he sounded like Anaya in that moment as he scolded and tore into Noa for even implying that he wanted to mate with you. How that moment in time had been lost to the Ape for almost four months, how he… Lost you because he believed Anaya’s ignorance, to no fault of his Sunset Brother. He was right; Noa caressed your blooded head in his good hand and craned your neck to look at your face. You were so stupid… So reckless, more so than any Ape he had ever met.

All of this, his green gaze slid down and turned itself upside down at the blood that smeared against the front of your thinned t-shirt, nothing there to protect the skin that Noa wanted to bite from scratches and tears from the ground below. “Please…” He whispered to you and readjusted the hold he had against your face, tenderly pressing his calloused finger pads into it with a silent plea that spoke more than the words he was able to say at the time. 

Noa brought his face down to your mouth. Breathing… He could feel it against his cheek, rustling against the nature of his flurried fur. So good… Bottom lip quivered as he drew downwards to your chest, ignoring the desperation his body was asking for him to stop the jerks of the muscles and to rest. There was no time, he yelled at them in a biting tone, there was no time because you were…

Heartbeat… in your chest, he could hear it in his eardrum when he brought himself down upon your blistering ribs. Noa stammered, barking at his right arm to get itself together so he could cradle you properly, to hold you to him if this was the only chance he was going to get. Only mildly successful in that, he tugged your entire weight on top of him, the position awkward and crinkled as Eagle Sun came to rest in front of him. 

‘Go,’ He signed at the bird, ‘Urgent. Must tell Mother, Soona. Echo…’ Noa swallowed hard and held the back of your head against his shoulder, the utmost promise of the moment that he was not going to let you go again no matter what came upon you two. “Echo still alive. Go!” Such an easy command for such a complicated and tempered bird that resembled Noa in ways he wished he was unable to not notice.

Stubborn, the Chimp felt his breathing staggering uncontrollably at the ease you slumped against him, the torment of his shoulder reminded him that everything had a cost but the cost was paid time and time again. “Eagle Sun,” He whispered to you and pressed the entirety of his face into your hair and drew in the deepest breath he was able to muster with the torture it took to even breath normally. “He will… bring… Soona and Mother… Save… Save you… Stay…”

There was no way to ignore the fact that you were bloodied beyond recognition, Noa swallowed hard at that and brought you down to look at again. His eyes traced the familiarity of your features. The sweep of your eyelids, eyelashes flashing against your cheek bones, the bruising and swollen nature of your lips, the cuts that eradicated the sweet nature of your body. From the top of your forehead all the way down to the mangled despair of your legs... Noa whined deep in his chest.

You were here… You were back! Noa chanted inside of his derailed train of thought, hoping that it was enough to keep him motivated until the two other Apes came to help. “Stay… with me…” He urged you, pressing his forehead lightly against your own, to no response but Noa pressed on, moving inwards to the point where he felt another deeply antagonistic shatter occur in his ribs. He’d heal from that, but if he lost you there would be nothing left to heal.

“I cannot… do this… entire…” Noa felt the moistening under his eyes, creasing into the wrinkles that were more prominent from lack of rest and juxtaposed aggression and self-loathing. “This entire thing without… you need…” Exaltation was no relief for the Ape as your head lulled to the side and Noa found himself enthralled in the slower beating against your jugular. Carefully, he raised your unresponsive body to him and there was a brief moment of contact that his lips had against your neck. If you couldn’t support yourself, he’d do just that until you were healed. Until you were brought back to him.

“You do this for me…” Noa bargained and bared his teeth against the fleshy part behind your ear, “Do this for me and I… Will… forever… be yours… Mate, friend…” Noa bit lightly at the skin, the taste of blood on the surface skyrocketing whatever thought processes he had left. Not enough to break the skin, but just enough to let you know his intentions whether you were consciously aware of them or not. Aware of his arms holding you, aware that he was there to see you before you eclipsed. Noa felt his teeth chattering as he bit down again, this time with more vigor. “Mine… I will not let… you go again…”

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Noa was able to hear Eagle Sun’s screech. Close, he thought, close, close, close… His head was pressed into your chest, keeping time with the dimmed nature of your heart and imagining himself living in a different time. You… Were in the nest, Noa rocking both your bodies as he still had you in a tight embrace. Yes… Yes yes… In the nest that you two shared, years from now… Noa’s head was resting against your chest and he was taking in the nature of your bare skin under his fur, your fingers tickling themselves into the fur of his head and scratching at his skull.

He’d purr for you, eyes raising themselves to what Noa wanted to imagine as a cheeky grin. Mates, he whispered to you and found himself allotted between your open legs much like that vision he had of you two before he found his way back to the living… That thinking was so much better than the lifeless form he had against him, though that itself was something he never imagined happening. 

“You… be alright… I promise…” He whispered against your chest and tried to ignore the feeling of dread that played around at the front of his mind, eyes dropping themselves in a state of exhaustion. “We will take you back to the Clan,” Brushing out your hair with his good hand, Noa plucked a few twigs from the sediment that had built itself into your strands.

“Heal… You…” As if beckoning him, Noa pressed his forehead onto your sternum and rested there in a crouched position, the only part of your body hitting the ground below being your legs that Noa was too afraid to wrap into a tight coil so he could embrace your entire form like he had wanted to for so long. “You… will be alright… Noa… Does not break… promises.. Anaya… Soona know… So my Echo… should know that…”

There was a jolt against him, barely detectable in normal circumstances but given the heightened and intense nature of the atmosphere that surrounded your two bodies, Noa felt it. The shift of your breathing from shallowed to lesser so, the windy nature of your mouth breathing so relaxing despite the call for water to coat your throat, words unable to seep through, barely able to draw into the twinkling dawn that was drenching the landscape and rained from the leaves above to case your form with delectations of shadows that appeared to dance with the most gentle of breezes.

Noa was afraid to look up at your face as he nuzzled himself further into your chest, clutching at your back with his damaged right side as tightly as he could in case you were slipping away from him. Soona, Dar… Too late, he figured, seeing Eagle Sun fly himself to a perch on the fallen over tree nearby. “Too late, Sun…”

“N…”

His ear prickled.

“N… No… Noa?” There was a dreadful wheeze in your throat, your eyes pressed together from mud and tears that clotted right around your eyeline and cemented them shut. “Noa.”

“(Name).” He’d never sounded so desperate, slightly envious of anyone who had a neck that was able to move quickly as Noa found his actions too slow to bring his head up to gaze down at you. The Ape spoke again, this time more clearly. He was dead; he had to be there was no way… Noa churned his head forward to stifle a condensed cry. “(N-Name).”

Your name sounded so strange… Muffled like you had sand in your mind that was pouring itself into an hourglass. The countdown was unknown as your stiffened arms attempted to move first and you found your fingertips touching coarse fur. If you had it in you to smile, you were sure that was the expression on your face as you carded your way into it, “I can---... I can’t bre… Breathe…” As evident from the wheezing, Noa figured and grasped the side of your face, urging you once more like you had for him hours ago to just… Look at him. Once. That’s all he needed, all Noa wanted as he felt the hand that had flushed into his fur touching at his bare skin, inches below the coating of warmth he had all around his entire body. “Can you…” Noa’s hot breath felt good against your cold cheeks, “Look at me?”

“Mm….” Grumbling that deeply inside of your throat, you knocked your head from side to side and was ardently reminded of the suffering that followed suit as you cried out, grasping a handful of his fur tight between his fingers. “Did th… the… clan….”

Noa laughed at that, trying to keep himself steady for you at the sick and twisted irony that you were more worried about the Clan than even yourself. “We… are all safe… all… In the woods. I have… Soona, Mo-Mother coming to help.”

“Noa…” You crinkled a bit of a soft sob, feeling the prickle of them against your eyes that gave enough lubrication for you to open ever so slightly to look at him through the peaked crusts. How you wished you hadn’t as you cried out again, this one more straggled against him. The light burned at your dirty retinas, the visual of Noa’s tattered shoulder still severely fresh in your mind, “I-I’m so…--- So sorry…” “Stupid Echo to apologize.” You whimpered at that. Some attempt at a laugh it was, it was pitiful in all descriptions of the word and tapered into a dull sounding whine. “Sounds li-like Anaya… Not Noa.”

“Well, Anaya stupid too…” Noa uttered and began tracing your bottom lip with his thumb. Slowly, back and forth and it was a bid to get you to at least smile at him rather than staying solemn of emotion as if you were unable to differentiate that in your mind. “Got hit over the head… He… is okay,” Noa knew you were going to ask that, guilt already laden in your stance against him as you were trying to pull yourself up from the tinkering of your injuries. Soon, Noa’s hold on you told him, Dar and Soona would be here soon to look you over to make sure you were alright… “You… are okay? I thought you… were gone… I could not… feel you with me anymore…” Parting your lips felt energy wasting as you did just that, your lips ghosting over a few words. You wanted to confirm to him that you were essentially dead. That you wanted to be if it meant that he was safe, the cough that split from you was nothing short of ghastly as blood poured itself onto your chin, Noa looking at the darkened color with innate fear and desperation to protect you as his fingers wiped it off and smeared you like you were wearing the more delicate casing of paint. “Should not speak… Should not… move… Hurt… Don’t know how ba… badly…” “You---” There was a pause as Noa admired your fluttering eyelashes, bringing his mouth down to trickle right against him and that… Garnered him something, finally… A smile and a chrotle from the back of your throat at the feeling as you were reaching to the highest Heavens now to get your senses back. “N-need to know before I go…” “Don’t say that.” Noa was firm and kissed your lids slowly before dragging his face down to hover parallel to yours. “Please… Soona… Mother…”

“I’m sor…sorry for everything.” Coughing again, you were fast to bring your entire body upwards as a reaction to the shooting pain that was lining along your ribcage. Noa moved with you as one, grasping at your back and keeping you sitting up. “No… Where I’d rather be than wit… with you… Right now.” “Stay with me…” “I’m so tired, though…” Noa slid the hand from your back to hold the back of your neck so he was able to stay face to face with you as you leaned against his good shoulder, taking in the delicious way that your body so willingly conformed against his own. “I ha… had dreams… earlier…”

Noa felt his jaw twitch watching in wasteful sorrow as your mouth fell ajar, breathing slowly and softly for him. “Tell me… Everything…”

“About us,” Blood was seeping from your mouth, Noa swallowing hard as with each word, a bit more came down and coated at your throat. “Y… think we cou… Could have… made it?”

“Always.” The Ape was so self-assured with that as he drew his mouth against yours, barely grazing, barely indented but it was there and your lips responded every so flatteringly to the motion. As quick as he was there, Noa was pulling away with your blood against his lips. “I need… you to stay with me here… Please…” He whimpered.

“Y.. know… I never… Felt romantic love…”

“(Name).”

Cracking the smallest of smiles that were thrusted with nothing more than bloodied intentions garnered in the heat of saving someone you loved, you laughed bitterly. “You… made me re… really see it… Feel…” The fingers that you had in his fur carded themselves once more as if you were savoring the feeling for the last time, “Noa… I can… Can’t thank you enough fo…”

“Please.” “Say it to me… Please…”

Noa snarled at you, not intentionally but out of slacked self control. “Not until you come back to me completely…” “Yo… you stubborn Ape.” Laughing again hurt as you drew your body into his own, your chest collapsing against Noa’s scorned fur there. 

“Yo… You know how I feel.” Noa was quiet as you tucked your face into his neck and sniffled lightly. “You ar… Were meant to be mine, you cannot leave… me like this…”

“You kn-know how… I feel…” Your voice was muffled against his thickened fur as you squeezed your eyes shut at the feeling of pressure inside of your chest. “Mated…” “Always.” “Yo-You would take me as a Human?”

“Human?” Noa asked and shook his head adamantly at your choice of words. “You are my Echo… and I will take you… Part of my Clan, part of me…” Looking up, he caught eyes with Soona and Dar who were now just coming up the embankment and captivated a look of approval at their arrival. “I will be with you… You need to stay with me…”

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

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[ndisalover]

NEVER OVER S.GOJO

synopsis: you think back to your and gojo’s relationship, where you’d been together for a while, but your mental issues were causing a toxic pattern, and most of that was your own doing. you look back at the end.

warnings/detail: angst, depression, mentions and abusive behaviour from mc, no fluff😅

it was painful sure.

That’s whatever you thought to yourself as you lingered on your romantic past.

Actually it was nothing, if not just pain.

That you caused. And it sprouted deeply in your rotten heart, you were doomed from the start. Spite and insecurity pumped it’s way around your tired body, looking at the world was like looking at emptiness.

There was just so much disconnect.

Your parents pretty much destroyed you, as a kid, beaten for every wrongdoing, words of disgust berated to you nearly daily as if your life wasn’t a reminder enough that you were useless. What the fuck were you actually thinking??

Dating these men who you knew you might hurt, having faith that you’d actually be ‘good’.

Not like your parents right??

Silence for days. Random hatred. Occasionally nice, then discomfort.

Multiple guys, you did this to all of them. Even when they’d be crying, begging you to listen.

It wasn’t enough for you, their efforts and time was wasted.

Especially him..

White hands, soft and familiar, hesitantly grasped onto one of your hands, brown and etched with some with scars.

There was nothing to describe his beauty, no words truly enough.

Blue eyes simply moved, their own will, striking and intimidating. His snow kissed lashed fluttered, worried.

White, perfect white, hair, was styled cutely and messily in a way that flattered him. He was always just beautiful.

You glanced at his glossy red lip, curled under his unreal white teeth, pressed down.

He didn’t deserve this.

“Hey sweetheart, what-what’s wrong “

Sweetheart. Your punishment was just.

His voice, usually confident and clear, turned fragile and careful. Satoru was meant for more than this, he was meant for exchangeable love, which was stifled by you.

“I don’t think this is good for you anymore”, you said bluntly and rushed.

You remember your eyes feeling heavy, you were only glancing at him before, but now you couldn’t even look into his loving eyes.

Head hung in shame, you slowly took your dirty hand off of his, your body, you were rotten.

It almost felt disrespectful to touch someone so unlike you, a person who who just radiated life.

A disease, it felt like that's all you were.

He had to go and get away from you, unless he wanted his life to slip away from him, on worrying about you.

His hand froze, looking whiter, if that was even possible.

Your eyes were dry, painful, and your mouth watered.

You felt ill. It’s necessary though.

“Uhh what..uhm”

It wasn’t easy. You loved Satoru, so so much.

Hands, stroking your lower back in bed, tingly. Sharing your problems while watching the night sky. Laughing with you while cuddling on grassy hills.

He made you feel like you were the only woman he ever knew.

Listening to him quietly open up about his past, painful, it was ever so painful. Even as he spoke about it, he was so gentle, he managed to keep composed.

In a way he provoked jealousy into you.

Why couldn’t you be like him??

He had gone through so much, yet he still managed to find happiness in so much, and smile in pain.

It was really pathetic though, you couldn’t even keep your spite away from the man you loved.

“You’re joking right?”

“No”

Your head kept low, squeezing your eyes shut as you let him go.

“It doesn’t make sense. I-I don’t get it?”

His voice was wavering.

You looked up at him, he was dressed comfortably, used to being around you. Finger twisting his ring, he was stressed out.

It hurt so bad.

“This is not good for you Satoru. I love you but you aren’t meant for a life like this, this relationship is not good.”

Your depression had gotten a lot worse. It felt like you weren’t really there most days. Your past haunted you, more often then usual.

The last time you went out with Gojo and his friends, you were reminded of a version of him only you see. He looked happy, laughing and telling mad stories about himself.

It felt like you didn’t compare to him.

You didn’t really know his friends well either, so you sort of faded, though Satoru still sat by your side, as you knew he always would.

A sense of belonging lacked in your life.

Just small elements of your life twisted and mixed together, those bad moments of pure insecurity just add up.

Then you went silent. He’d try to come over, or he’d text you.

Knocking at your front door, you could hear his quivering voice, begging you to answer.

But you shot excuses at him, using the door to distance yourself from his love, instead basking in pathetic misery.

Then after a couple of days, you grew hatred.

When you thought about your times with him, the bunny teddy bears on your bed, some of his clothes you’d find.

It was hate for it all, hate for his love, hate for how forgiving he was, it just didn’t make sense.

Then, you’d let him back.

Whether it was a phone call or a text, he always came, hugging you as soon as the door opened.

The man would be upset for a little while, you could see his appearance was not good, he probably lost sleep.

But it would always end up with him, back in your arms, humming in affection.

It would happen, this abusive cycle, over and over again.

This time it’d been a long while, nearly a month of no contact, well no physical contact anyway, he tried so many times.

But you invited him over tonight, and when you opened the door, it wasn’t good. His under eyes were tainted with purple dark circles, the eyes of his eyes were bloodshot. The skin of his lips were chapped, mouth pulled into a slight frown at the sight of you.

He looked gorgeous and dishevelled, you’d ruined him.

So as you talked to him tonight, apologising for the blackout which he of course eventually accepted, you could see the pain that had lingered still.

You sat him on your sofa, guilt causing your stomach to hurt.

It was time to let him go tonight.

“What the fuck are you even saying? Is it someone else or what?”

Anger with pain was what you saw in his contorting face, his chest wearing a loose black t shirt started to rise up and down aggressively.

His white eyebrows were pressed together, eyes pleading for answers as he met yours.

“No, it’s- I just…I need you to live your life”

“What?? I’ve been living my life?”

“You haven’t though have you? It’s always this same routine of me hurting you, and you just come back anyway. I’m sorry Satoru, I’ve been cruel and evil and you deserve more”

His pale skin creased around his eyes, glossy with tears he seemed to struggle to hold back.

Long fingers twisted his rings on his fingers, he was evidently stressed.

You wanted to hold his hands, or hug him as he stared at you, as if you’d stabbed him in the back.

But you couldn’t, you had to watch him crumble and hurt.

You were hurting him again, just like you did oftenly, except this time it would be the end of it.

“It’s okay! Trust me Y/n, I can take it, I’ll do better to help you, please, I just..”

Satoru became sloppy, stumbling over his words as he tried to cling on, eyes darting around the room but then onto you. You noticed his slight movement towards you on the couch, like he was attached to you, but you moved away from him, trying to emphasise the breakup.

“Gojo please. You aren’t my saviour, you’re meant to be my boyfriend. I thank you for your help, you have tried so hard and I really do love you”

You were really struggling to not cry. It didn't seem fair on him for you to be upset, as you were the one causing his suffering.

“So why are you doing this to me if you love me? Why hurt me like this.”

He stood up, rubbing the back of his head frustratedly. The tone of his voice was weak now, like he was struggling for breath.

“It’s the best for you. I know I will hold you back in life Satoru.”

Gojo turned himself around swiftly, facing you as you stood.

The corner of his mouth was pushing down, under eyes pushed up in rage.

“It’s the best for me, yeah? Being pushed away from the person I love, because she doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore is the best?”

Your eyes cast down at the floor, accepting his act of anger towards you. The look on his face was foreign to you, almost you were someone he hated.

“I know that…that it’s hard and that I’m being mean. I wouldn’t be upset if you hated me, Satoru Gojo. I just need you to know that you’re beautiful and you’re kind, and you know me so well. But you’re too kind to see my damage.”

A pained scoff left his lips as he picked up his coat, walking away from your babbling self.

You followed him, only to be met by another swift turn, finger pointing at you, while he sniffled softly.

“You’ve always been soo, just so poetic, yeah? You’re telling me all this nonsense so that you can move on and bid me bye. And even-even though you’ve struggled, it’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t know why you don’t get that. That’s what love is okay!”

He immediately started to walk towards the front door after his spout of emotions. Your steps were slower in following him, your heart was being stepped on, and you knew it was deserved.

“Satoru-”

“Don’t even try to Satoru me, Y/n. I’m not yours to play with.”

His voice was laced with sudden spite. The fact that he felt so strongly by you only saying his first name showed his feverous love, showing how much you meant to him.

Each foot slid into his shoes, sniffing through his red tipped nose , sounding blocked.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled now in fear of harming him more “I’ll stop.”

A tense hand gripped the door knob in anticipation. He was still standing there, like you were meant to give him permission to go.

Bloodshot blue eyes met yours for a final time, once he turned around.

His cologne, his dear voice, his words of love. And so much more.

All about to leave.

He stared at your face, studying your features like he was trying to remember them, as if he’d forget.

“I don’t even hate you. I want to say I do but I don’t. I hate the way you’ve hurt me though, so much. Maybe your right when you said you’re evil.”

The last sentence caused a shot of pain to flow through your spine, his expression was nasty now, he spat out his last words.

Quickly opening the door and pushing himself out, slamming it immediately.

You stood there, tears dotted around your wooden floor, staring at the closed door.

Your nose blocked, eyes sore with tears, lip quivering.

His cologne lingered, and you sniffed, missing him already even though you tried to hard not to.

He’d been such a big part of your life for the past few years, you had an attachment to him.

He took a part of you when he left, and all that was your doing.

notes : I love satoru gojo. that’s all

[kairoseas]

Sukuna destroying Shibuya in an effort to break Yuuji (and save Megumi's life, it was two-fold.) is pretty much canon at this point, but imagine going one step further: breaking Yuuji down, Sukuna, prepared to be the person who rebuilds Yuuji into his image, into whatever he wants, into someone else, someone who knows their life is no longer their own, it's Sukuna's. Making him watch thousands die, watch him hurt allies and enemies alike, breaking Yuu's spirit down bit by bit, until he's so desperate for something to cling to that he'll accept even the person who took everything away in the first place. Because to Sukuna, love isn't a soft thing and it never has been; it's teeth and consumption, absorption, gnashing fangs and claws, a monstrous feeling that gives birth to violence, to bloody, damned devotion. So go ahead and cry, and wail and scream your heart out in disgust, in disturbance, in agony, because it doesn't change the fact that your life belongs to Sukuna in the end. Your body, your heart, your spirit, your everything belongs to Sukuna, there's no argument to be held about that. Because he loves you. Because he loves 'his special'. Sukuna would set the world on fire for Yuu. You're cursed with a wretched God's love, adoration, his utter reverence, idolization. Now return that devotion to him in full or he'll simply have to do worse.

[imsparky2002]

Talking with Thomas - Reverser Part 2

The boyfriends walked into Astruc’s office, looking very unamused. The creator just smiled at them, unaware of their frustration with him. “Ah, Nash and Mork.” he greeted, “Excited for the new episode?” The boys just rolled their eyes.

“Wow, Nath. You were right. He is terrible with names.” Marc said. “Yeah, unless they’re the main characters.” Nathaniel added. Thomas decided to try and put some smiles on their faces. “So, pretty good script, huh?” he prodded. “Actually, sir,” Marc replied. “There were uh... some things we wanted to talk about. Some problems.”

“A lot of problems, actually.” Nathaniel said, looking straight at Thomas. Marc didn’t even let him argue before beginning his critiques. “First of all, why does it feel like you just copied Nath’s akuma plot for me, just tweaking a few things to make it fit better?“ Marc asked. “W-well...” Thomas replied, nervously taking a sip from his mug. “W-well, it's to show how similar you two are. How you're the perfect fit for eachother!” Thomas answered, his voice shaking with uncertainty. 

“Oh, but not perfect enough for us to get together? Despite the extreme amounts of gay subtext in the episode?” Nath countered, his eyebrow raised in doubt. Thomas gulped. “Ah, w-well, you know how certain... people can be about things like that.” he tried to explain. “Who gives a fuck about that?! I just want our characters to date like we do in real life!” Marc shouted, already tired of the man’s bullshit. “Are you honestly so scared of countries like China and Russia.” Nathaniel asked, looking disgusted.

Thomas just huffed and crossed his arms in response. “Well, sorry that that wasn’t enough for you kids. It was the best we could do for this episode! We really put everything we could into making this script a classic for every aspect.” Thomas complained. “Really?” Nathaniel exclaimed. “Because you sure didn’t seem to put much effort into Marc’s akuma!”

“Yes! I’m a writer!” Marc agreed. “That's the whole idea of my character! Nath got a form that reflected his artistic skills, why didn't I get the same thing?“ Thomas scoffed again. “Well, a writing akuma seemed too obvious, too boring. But we compromised with the paper airplanes!” Marc could only stare at the man like he had grown a second head.

“Too boring?! TOO BORING?! How is someone with the ability to alter reality with merely a pen, boring?! The possibilites are endless!” he shouted, as Nathaniel calmed him down with a pat on his shoulder. “But that's the least of our concerns.” Nathaniel reminded. “Next, let's talk about how my character's been assasinated before it even got a chance to shine.“ At this statement, Thomas looked confused. “Oh please, what are you talking about, Nagatha?”

“It. is. Nathaniel. And what the hell was that fountain scene? Why did I assume it was Ladybug? Why did I get angry at Marc when he clearly didn’t know that was the assumption made? And SERIOUSLY, ripping his journal? Since when was I such a dick?!“ he growled.

“Well, your crush for Ladybug clouded your mind, and the pain of thinking you were the butt of another cruel joke caused you to act irrationally.” Thomas explained, unaware why the boy was getting upset for no reason in his eyes. “Well you sure didn't have me explain why! All I said was that I "jumped the gun". JUMPED THE GUN! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” Nathaniel yelled, his eyes wide with confused anger. “I straight up berated the boy, destroyed his property, and stormed off. I didn't even do anything to Marinette, the one who ACTUALLY messed up!”

“Well…Marinette was only trying to help! And she had to be Ladybug, so there wasn’t really time for you to have confronted her!” Thomas reminded. “Was she helping me when she read my journal without permission?” Marc replied, feeling like he could deck the man at any point. “Oh, come on, Morty! She’s your friend and she thought it was great, so what does it matter? Why wouldn’t you want to share it anyway?” Thomas said, even chuckling at the idea that this was worth getting mad about. Marc and Nathaniel were so stunned they didn’t even bother correcting the man about getting the writer’s name wrong.

“I... did he just say that he doesn't understand why I wouldn't want to share my private journal?” Marc said, barely able to comprehend what he had just heard. “Nath, tell me I'm not hallucinating.” Nath shook his head and felt another wave of disgust through his body. “Nope, I heard it too. WOW, DUDE! You need to learn about people’s boundaries!” Thomas was about to reply, but Marc cut him off.

“It's ok, Nathaniel. Because ‘it's Marinette’ who can do whatever she wants because ‘she has good intentions.’”, he said with a mocking tone, using air quotes. “I bet if I was a girl, Marinette was a boy, and you were still a dude, this episode wouldn't get green lit. But it's fine for girls and other queer boys to berate me and meddle with me, according to this straight guy.”

“Let’s not blow things out of proportion now! So things get a little heated and Marinette makes a mistake! The important thing is that it’s fine in the end, you two make up and become partners!“ Thomas replied, trying to sweep this whole mess under the rug. Nathaniel was quick to catch him on his BS. “No we don't! Marinet-, oh sorry, "Ladybug" forced us to reconcile. And I never actually apologized.” Nathaniel said. “And even worse, I accepted it!” Marc hissed. “I was smiling! WHY?!”

“Because everyone loves when a misunderstanding is resolved!“ Thomas admitted. “Remember the umbrella scene? Tumblr's gonna love you guys. MarcNath will be a great fanship!“

“Oh, don’t start with that crap!” Nathaniel snarled. “This is not how you lay the foundation for a healthy relationship! This entire episode is toxic as hell!”

“Marinette herself has asked if we can change the script.” Marc noted. “She's already getting a lot of backlash, and she doesn't want to get more. And this'll probably be our only episode where we matter. This is not how I want me and my boyfriend to be represented.” Thomas just rolled his eyes. “That’s show business, boys! Sometimes you gotta do the uncomfortable stuff for the end results!” Nathaniel could feel the urge to throw up from that statement. 

“I may be Jewish, but Jesus Christ! Do you know how creepy you sound right now? You know what? We'll do the episode, but don't expect us to agree to be relevant ever again.” he stated. “Yeah, I'd rather be a background fan favorite than a supporting cast member in this dumpster fire.” Marc agreed. Thomas looked disappointed by this. Not because he CARED about them, but because he wouldn’t make as much money if they didn’t become superheroes. “But what about our plan to give everyone Miraculouses?” he asked. “When the time comes, just throw us in with some other classmates. We're not having our own episodes for you to ruin.” Nathaniel replied, with him and Marc getting up and walking to the door.

Thomas frowned and humphed at them, like an angry child. “Fine by me!” he scoffed. “We were already planning on lumping together Evan and Serena getting their miraculouses, we can just throw you two in as well!”

“IVAN AND SABRINA!” the boyfriends said in unison, before shutting the door. “Man, what a jackass.” Marc said, as Nathaniel nodded in agreement. “I don’t even know why we still do this show.” he admitted. “I mean, it's not like we have a choice. You know what usually happens when characters leave the program they were created for?” Marc reminded. “They rarely get hired for anything else.” Nathaniel sighed in annoyance. “Oh yeah...”

“I'm more concerned about everyone seeing me as a soft uwu boy.” Marc worried. “I know I'm pretty anxious, but I can be confident sometimes!” Nathaniel nodded and snuggled him. “I know, babe. Lord knows what assumptions people are gonna make about me after this airs. I guess we just have to hope for the best, Marcy. I love you so much.” Nathaniel said, nuzzling his face in Marc’s neck, causing the writer to giggle.

“I love you too, Nathie. Wanna go make out in front of Thomas?” Marc asked, with a sly grin on his face. Nathaniel nodded eagerly.

“You read my mind!”

So after awhile, here it is! The next in the “Talking with Thomas” series. I couldn’t have gotten this done without the help of Weeby, who assisted with the dialogue. I’ll be answering an ask for them soon, a fanon Talking with Thomas, which serves as what may have happened in canon if their OC was written into the show. I’m still in the process of editing it, but it’ll be out soon, hopefully. Make sure to reblog, reply, post and ask, and tell me in detail what you thought of this, and your issues with the episode. In my opinion, Canon NathMarc is trash, while Fanon NathMarc is superior. @artzychic27 @msweebyness 

[favorvn]

Yknow, I'm just going to put this out there.

I am really disgusted by a lot of these accusations hurled towards Lily without an ounce of proof. Most of these accusations simply feel like they are throwing anything at the wall to stoke the flames of social outrage in order to get people to react. It's gross, and it is tiring.

Here are a couple of my thoughts...

- Yes, what happened in the server with someone being falsely accused was really bad. It hurt people involved and destroyed trust. My heart really goes out to this person, and they have every right to feel hurt and to not forgive anyone involved in this situation. There is no excuse or explanation that can or will justify this. Bad mistakes were made, and someone was unjustly and irreparably hurt. A fact separate to this, though, is that Lily was given this false information after being harassed at that point for MONTHS, possibly even a full year. After that long of being harassed, it isn't a surpise that a mistake like this happened. As fucked as that situation was, Lily is a victim in this situation. It's strange that we don't really see this acknowledged. One person being a victim in an awful situation doesn't just negate another victim.

- Stealing code from fourms...? That has to be a joke. The really cool thing about code, and what has caused leaps and bounds in technological advancement, is that historically, code has mostly always been freely shared and a community based effort and knowledge sharing. On help forums, people share code with each other and correct each other's code. This is doubly so for Renpy, which makes it so lovely to learn! People don't really gatekeep knowledge when it comes to code, we encourage learning and skill improvement. Unless there is PROOF that code was fully ripped from a game (which even in that case, I would bet that the original person found their code from a forum as well, and the second person may have found a similar code to it because code really doesn't differ too much as it is a tool, a means to an end, not creative expression.) I really just don't believe any of those accusations at all. This goes for all accusations without direct proof.

- Regarding the criticism towards Lily's sexuality and gender identity: That isn't your or anyone else's business. It is frankly gross to try and demonize someone else's gender identity and sexual identity journey.

- I have seen multiple comments /callout posts / threads that revolve around a weird level of white knighting for Ya-Boi. Ya-Boi is an adult. They are both adults. Stop infantilizing Ya-boi and assuming that he can't voice when he is uncomfortable by something. He can, and he doesn't need anyone to speak for him. Let the business between them be private as anyone else's has a right to be. If you were actually concerned for Yaboi you would have checked in with him personally in a private message rather than just putting his personal life out there and forcing him to out his own personal life to the public 💀 like I really doubt he wanted to have to do that.

- Also, the complaint about 18+ erotic art being posted in a clearly titled 18+ EROTIC server??? I seriously laugh everytime I read that callout. If you join a server that clearly has the word 'erotic' in the title and you get mad because erotic art was posted? That's fully on you. What's next? Will you go to the p*rn hub and be mad because p*rn was shown? Get real. Stop pearl clutching and grow up. Take responsibility for your own actions and decisions of joining the clearly labeled server. The worst part to me is, I know if you voiced this complaint, anyone in the server would be kind enough to oblige and apologize to you and make sure it doesn't happen again. Because they are kind people who do care about how people around them feel. But frankly, I find this complaint fucking ridiculous. It was in the title of the damn server.

Look, at the end of the day you don't need to have a reason to dislike someone. You can just dislike someone. It's enough just to say that you don't like someone and end it at that. You don't need to try and make a callout post and rally people to also dislike someone so you can feel justified in your dislike towards them. You don't have to like everyone you come across in life, and that's totally fine. It's human even.

Please reevaluate some of these points on if they actually make sense, if they are actually fair, if you actually have proof for them. If you are this harsh on Lily, I really feel bad about how harshly you must judge yourself. To remain at some obscure morally upright standard that you are arbitrarily imposing on yourself at all times. It's okay to love your yan characters and want others to interact with them. It's okay to make mistakes, it's human to fuck up sometimes, to learn, and to grow from it.

What will happen when you make a mistake that you tried to call out another person for? Will you forgive yourself? Will you spiral in self loathing? What happens when you make a mistake that you would have called someone else out for if given the chance? Will you make an exception for yourself that you know you wouldn't have granted to another person? Will you allow yourself to grow in ways that you won't allow others to? What happens when you get a partner and they make an honest mistake? Will you call them out to the public? Trying to get others to also dislike them? Where does empathy get to start and end?

My advice is: Have some empathy for yourself and for others. Life will be much kinder to you that way.

I won't go through every point, I just wanted to say my piece on those things. This link is the post I am referring to. Ya-boi's response disects everything in more depth than I will.

[myrtles-and-blood]

Small rant about AI.

The Fall

The stars announce the fall of the first sun. So let it be war. Countless angels in rebellion sacrifice their home for a cause, lost after all. And the star, whose brilliance dazzles even the highest ones, is reborn from the darkness. With the fleetingness of a comet, he destroys the enemy. After the bloody massacre in paradise, the star proclaimed.

"Does it scare you?"

"What?" The prince demanded to know.

"Even if I fall, I will not die. Even if I die, the fight will not end" The star smiled "Does it scare you that, truly, you will never win?"

A silent pause after his words. The prince cried.

"God, have mercy" said the prince.

The sword didn't hurt as much as the tears falling from an angel's eyes. Alas, he fell. The first and the last one to fall. As he was known to be the morning star, the sky lost its beauty and only, and just only, the night was to be the only witness of his glare.

He fell to the ground, his pearly wings turned gray, from his chest the first drop of red elixir was born. From it, flowers bloomed, which then for as quick as they were born. A source of life and death. Beauty is created in the same place ugliness is.

And then, a smile formed on his face. He didn't talk, he didn't walk, he only smiled. As the morning became the evening, he was free.

Quick thing I wrote just now about The Fall from Heaven!!! I have been seeing a lot of people defending AI creations and I gotta say I hate them! So I decided to make something myself. An offering for my beautiful Lord Lucifer who only deserves good things, love and real art.

No AI has a soul. No AI has the love for art a human does. Writing a question and letting a machine do it is not art. It is not a tool. It is a generator. This is not helping you do something yourself, it makes it for you.

I have never used AI, nor do I want to. I find it extremely unappealing, inappropriate in an art setting, and unacceptable as a recognised form of art. It's not a brush that helps you put the paint on the canvas. It's not a camera that captures what you are seeing. It's not a keyboard that helps you put the words yourself on the paper. A tool is meant to help, not do the job.

For many projects I've done with people, all of them have used AI because "it's easier". Where has love for creation gone? Where has love for research and curiosity gone? How would you view Gods if they didn't put any effort in their creations?

I'm not talking about stealing art (which it probably does), I'm talking about CREATING. DOING SOMETHING YOURSELF. PUTTING EFFORT IN SOMETHING. People who use these kinds of programmes just feel like they don't care enough to put effort into what they do. They don't want a challenge. They don't want to fulfil any ambition inside of them. They just want something quick.

I'm telling you (and I'm not speaking for any deity), I seriously don't think any deity will be pleased if you showed them something a machine made. There is no absolute thought behind it, there is no effort, there is no LOVE.

When you put time and suffering into making something good for someone, you put LOVE into it. It's what moves art, LOVE for creation. LOVE for self expression. SPENDING TIME CREATING SOMETHING FOR SOMEONE IS SPENDING TIME LOVING THEM.

No AI has that. I personally would be disgusted at the thought someone gave me something made by AI instead of making it themselves. I don't care if it's the worst thing I've ever seen, it took you time, and that time was spent thinking about me and what I would like. When you use AI, you don't have that.

I hope that I was clear, my English now is not very good, but I think you understand what I mean. My art is not the best, but at least I make it myself. Don't use AI, do something yourself. 🫶🏻

[ithuriels-criativety]

Underrated Emotions: Envy

It is common to a character to have explicit happiness, sadness, anger, grudge, love, and the others emotions that are easily felt by the writer. It is not a bad thing to put your character to feel like you do, they're a part of your imagination after all. But sometimes writers forget that a human being is much more complicated than the main emotions of Disney Inside Out.

Envy is one of my main emotions actually, I am not proud of it but I think it is pretty much justified as a transgender, thank you very much. This feeling is usually personified in villains and antagonists, but the brightest main character can be an envious bitch. Envy is an ugly feeling. Like a disease, it consumes you from the inside and it is near impossible to get rid of.

People get envious for many reasons, but it is never a random reaction. A kid might be envious of the other because a shiny toy. A teenager might be envious of the other because of their relationship with their family. It can have so many variations that can suit a character that I'm having a hard time to find a character who couldn't feel that way.

It usually is a passive feeling that is always there somehow. For me it is strong and loud and ashamed, but I could never put all of my agony in words. When feeling envious, people tend to look with longing in their eyes, it is hard to look away from the object of your feeling be it love, hatred or envy. You can have it as a possessive reaction, as an aesthetic one, as an wealth one, etc.

The ones who suffer from it like I do don't voice their ugly feelings. We do not want the look in our eyes to be recognized as what it really is. For me it comes with a broken heart. I see men that look a bit like me and my heart breaks as I think I couldn't ever be "authentic" like them, and as it gets worse the emotion becomes uglier and morphs into hatred.

Hatred, disgust, anger and almost every ugly feeling walk hand in hand with envy. It makes it stronger, more apparent. Some people are ashamed of their feelings, thinking it is pathetic, so their efforts are even bigger to hide it.

I have not seen many envious characters so far. Remember that not all envy is poisonous, it can motivate someone to be a better person in some cases. And representing all transgenders as highly envious is kind of stereotypical, don't be a jerk while writing a character like this.

If you are interested in applying this trait to a character, make sure to give them a good development. A envious character that cannot overcome their dirty mind is not a character that has matured during their life experience/during the history.

Here are some ideas of a envious character development!

"I can never be like them!" To "I am enough by just being myself." (Do not do the "They weren't what I thought"! This is not a character getting over their feelings)

"I can never have what they have!" To "I do not need it to be happy." (Do not do the "I have better now"! This is not a character getting mature, this is a ridiculous childish reaction)

"I can never be talented like them!" To "No one needs to be perfect at everything." (Do not do the "I am better than them now." However I do not completely oppose to the "Even them are not good in everything, why should I?" But just if it is done rightly, so be careful!)

You can also try doing a dark ending to your character, but be careful since it is very hard to make it good/believable

"I can never be like them, so I will tear them apart." (This can have some very interesting variations, be creative!)

"I can never have what they have, so I will destroy everything they possess." (This is a very interesting plot to a smart character)

"I can never be talented like them, so I will make them unable to do this activity." (Like injuring a athlete or ruining someone's reputation)

Do not forget to give a believable reason to their envy. Ugly feelings like that are built with time and more then one bad day at someone's life.

Also! It is a very nice plot to make a dark envious character having his role swapped with the one they were trying to destroy in the middle of their evil journey OR being destroyed by a side character that was envious of them without their knowledge. Your creativity can handle the details of a good plot twist!

Talking about me now. I am a sucker for happy endings, but a dark ending for a evil main character along with the downfall of their enemy is a beautiful ending to a story based in the concept of Envy.

[maybebecomingms]

a dangerous existence

January 3rd, 2024

"I saw her and I said to myself, 'she's a loaded gun.' Tempting, but can destroy your whole life in a second."

He wasn't talking about a seductive woman approaching him at the bar (though they tell stories like that, too). He was talking about a young college student running near campus. They didn't interact. He was driving.

He also wasn't someone I knew well to be talking so openly about his urges and threats to his marriage. He and his wife were the small group leaders, and it was my first or second visit to their home to check it out.

I was 23 at the time - not too far removed from college myself - and had somehow just lost 40 pounds. If there was ever a time in my life when I was "hot," it was then.

Is this directed at me? Am I the loaded gun? Does this mean I should stop coming here?

I didn't flirt with him. I didn't have bad intentions. I just wanted to get to know some new people. I don't think I kept going to the group for long, but I did hit it off really well with his wife - in fact, I still do. I would still go to their house regularly for our "book club" of two and hope I didn't see him. I always felt dirty and guilty after that.

But this type of thing didn't throw me off enough to walk away, because I'd heard it so many times before. Men were always telling stories like this from the pulpit - having to avert their gaze and avoid attractive women to protect their wives and families. Sometimes, their stories were about loose and wild women throwing themselves at them, seemingly not caring that they were married. Other times, the story was about refusing to acknowledge an attractive woman even when she was being completely respectful, because you never knew when she'd turn on you and lie to your wife about you behaving badly.

It definitely always struck me as odd, though. I've encountered attractive men while in a committed relationship plenty of times and... it was not life changing? I've never felt powerless against an overwhelming urge to blow up my entire life because a good-looking man exists and I saw him. I wouldn't even say I felt that way after talking to one.

But we were told that women and men were fundamentally different, and I never thought much about it til now, really. That kind of messaging really fucks with you as you're entering adulthood within a feminine form. If I go for a run and you see me out in the world running, I'm an imminent threat to your wife and family? And I don't even KNOW you? That's a huge and impossible responsibility, not to mention a massive threat to my safety.

Several years ago, I befriended a colleague I worked with frequently. We're still friends, though we don't interact through work anymore. One year, he invited me to his beautiful, sprawling home in the country around Christmastime. He and his husband go all out, with multiple decorated trees and carefully arranged lights inside and out. They wanted to show off their efforts. We had the best time drinking wine and laughing. We hugged and said "I love you" when it was time for me to go home.

For many years, I could not figure this out. Why would gay men want to spend time with me? They're obviously not sexually attracted to me, so what could I possibly have to offer? Because of the messaging I got from the church about how simultaneously vulnerable and out of control men are, I really thought that I had no value whatsoever beyond being sexualized. Isn't that sad?

For how much churches claim to promote sexual purity, they sure do know how to make you feel dirty and disgusting for merely existing.

[skzinka]

“ UNCERTAINTIES ”

timeline : pre-debut

summary : even in the biggest moments of doubt, when there is almost no hope in her heart, kalaya must show all her support to her friends.

warnings : angst, crying a lot, low self-esteem, strong language, kalaya is just riddled with sadness and disappointment

word count : 1.1k >

life is not something simple, she thought, looking at her reflection in the dance hall mirror. even if you put all the good will and efforts in the world in it, sometimes it feels like we are not getting closer to the end of the tunnel. that's what the girl felt, as she watched the silent tears of frustration slide down her cheeks.

it was an even more complicated time : some of her friends found themselves embroiled in a competition that was supposed to offer them the opportunity to start in a group, but some of them had already been eliminated. and other negative point, she was not part of this competition.

kalaya felt that everything she had given up to that point, had been for nothing. ruin her health, spend nights without sleep, make herself sick to keep a perfect figure.. all this was for nothing, because she was still at the starting point, locked within these four walls, lacking the talent required to enter the idols' world.

all hope had left her small muscles when she let herself fall to the ground, crying all the tears she had in her body. in one side of her head, she told herself that if her friends, who were much more talented than her, had already failed, she could already pack her bags and go home.

she was convinced that she had no future, and having to return home to face her mother's disappointed look, tetanized her. every particle of confidence that was part of her, was suddenly gone. she felt powerless, weak, alone, useless, incapable, she didn't think anything good about herself, quickly observed her reflection with a look of disgust and total rejection.

her sobs doubled as she hit the mirror with all her might, begging her demons to leave her alone, to let her catch her breath. but without success — those little negative voices in her head wouldn't stop. kalaya beat her chest as hard as she could, trying to fill the pain she felt, releasing more tears filled with pain and bitterness. she wanted to see a glimmer of hope, a sign from fate that this period was just a bad phase, but nothing seemed to want to pull her up from this hell hole.

her hands clutched at her sweatshirt, as tightly as possible, causing her knuckles to whiten and hiccups to be heard in the back of her throat, trying to force herself to stop the tears running down her cheeks. after long minutes of calm, the atmosphere lulled by her sniffles and the sound of her nails scratching her skin to blood, kalaya raised her head, watching her miserable reflection again.

the large mirrors in the room left her no choice but to look at how miserable she was. her puffy face and her eyes reddened by tears made her hideous. deep inside she hated what she was : she would have given anything to be someone else, someone more talented than her, someone more beautiful, someone you notice.

not some poor girl crying alone in a dance hall feeling sorry for herself.

kalaya was disgusted with herself, and couldn't help but be put down by the little voices in her head — “you're good at nothing”, “you're ugly, you're fat”, or “you can't dance”. this sentence had a devastating effect on her mental health, the girl trembled just by thinking of those words that had burned her heart in the most painful way. tell yourself that, the thing you bled for, cry, try relentlessly, to the point of fainting from exhaustion, was not made for you, was the worst thing in the world.

you know that feeling, when the ground is slipping away from under your feet, and after that, you touch the deep bottom without being able to get up, this feeling of being drawn into a black hole that destroys everything in its path, that was what she had been feeling for weeks. fortunately, deep down, she knew she could count on many people around her – especially yuehua who kept sharing her determination with kalaya all the time – but all these horrible emotions had become far too unbearable.

sighing and hitting her face almost too hard countless times in a row, kalaya finally came back to her senses, drying her last tears before staring at the ground, her eyes empty. nervously biting her lower lip, she tossed out some swear words about how pathetic she was, before getting up, silently putting her things in her bag. but just as she was heading to the door, hurried footsteps from outside called out to her — people were running towards the training room where she was.

with a bewildering crash, the door opened wide in front of her, a body automatically colliding with hers. she didn't have time to say or do anything, as felix shouted with joy, « we did it kalaya ! the guys and me.. we debut together soon ! »

kalaya could swear she heard her heart break completely for a second time in her life, each piece of the latter dissipating in his heart like a splinter. it was stronger than her : she wanted to rejoice for her friends, but an unknown rage and an immense sadness consumed her every thought.

she hated herself for envying them so much, hated herself for giving them a fake smile and rejoicing for them while she was jealous to the highest degree. kalaya hated every emotion she was currently feeling, she wanted to scream and cry, she wanted to pull out her hair and break every single mirror, but she could do nothing but smile falsely and congratulate her friends on their success, embracing them as a good friend would do.

« i'm so happy for you all ! you guys deserve it ! » kalaya kept repeating this kind of sentence, containing the tears that threatened to fall at any moment. her friends embraced her one after the other, their warmth not even able to warm her frozen heart. deep down, she knew that a warm glow was happy and really proud of her friends, but the major part of her being hated all that she was currently experiencing.

« kalaya noona, are you proud of me? » asked jeongin, somewhat shy but with sparkling eyes that caused kalaya to shed a tear. she felt ashamed, disgusting. so she nodded, pulling the boy into her arms and congratulating him in the most sincere way, even if her words might sound fake.

then, they all spoke together, congratulating and encouraging each other for the future, without noticing the silent little girl who wondered how she was going to get out of this hell.

in the end, kalaya had only one real enemy.

herself.

✧⠁taglist : @invuwrld @writerblock-sucks @mynameisnotlaura @alyszaen @felixsbrat

[poppy-in-the-woods]

Playing God | Chapter Two: The Jungle

Plot: Sadie is a vampire hunter with a problem: the members of her favourite band are vampires. She spent the last five years since she found out training to take them out, one by one, beginning with the youngest, guitarist Tim Henson. But things rarely go as planned, and Sadie's life will be turned upside down after her first encounter with Tim.

Cross-posted to AO3

Pairing: Vampire!Tim Henson x Vampire hunter!OFC

Word count: 5540

Rating: Mature/Explicit.

General tags: vampire au, arranged marriage, smut, violence, blood, biting, implied homophobia, misoginy, lgbtq characters, slight gore.

Chapter tags: asshole behaviors (from various characters), sexual puns, talks of arranged marriage and demisexuality, a bit of fluff.

Author's note: As always, English is not my first language, this is not proofread, yada yada yada, you know the drill already. Hope you enjoy, and if any of you want me to be tagged into this, let me know.

@veronicaphoenix

In a city as big as Los Angeles, there were other vampires to kill, and for six weeks (roughly what it took them to find and take care of another target), Sadie managed to keep her family away from Tim and the others. She thought, perhaps foolishly, that the longer it took for them to go after him again, the more reasons she would find to destroy him. Until one night, she caught herself listening to the band's new album in an effort to find a reason.

She had missed the last two because of her hatred for Tim, but the truth was that the band had continued to improve. Much to her chagrin, she had to admit that the fact that he was now a vampire had been a positive, at least musically. His new skills had pushed him to test his limits as a guitarist, and that had resulted in even more complex music than before. It was time to retrieve her bag.

The next morning, she walked up to the mansion and rang the doorbell without further ado.

“Hello?” said an unfamiliar voice through the speaker as a security camera focused on her.

“Hi, this is Sadie. I think Tim has my purse.”

The gate opened, letting her inside the property. The garden was large and well-kept, no doubt the work of a professional landscaper. On one side of the slate path that led to the garage, a white sports car was parked, glistening as if it were a trophy. Sadie grimaced briefly in disgust, but kept moving forward. Before she could ring the doorbell, the door opened and a young man with platinum blond hair and metal-rimmed glasses stepped out.

“Hi, I'm Pol, the guys' assistant, will you come with me, please?”

She followed him into the house, where he led her into the living room and asked her to wait there for him to come back for her.

“Tim has the red light of his room on, which probably means he's playing, and he doesn't like to be disturbed while he's playing his music,” he informed her.

“It’s okay. I can wait, no problem.”

Pol left her alone. The living room had a huge plasma TV surrounded by shelves with books on one side and some LP's on the other. Under the TV was a record player that connected to a sophisticated speaker system spread throughout the space to ensure the best possible acoustics.

She was examining the vinyl titles when she heard someone enter the room. Turning around, expecting to see Pol, she found Scott instead.

“Well, I didn't expect to see you again. Have you changed your mind?” he said, amused.

“What?”

“About Tim.”

“I just came to get my purse back,” she said, shrugging. “The club told me there was nothing left in the booth, so I assumed he had it.”

“Oh. He's playing, I think. He'll be a while yet.”

“That's what I’ve been told,” she replied, shrugging again. “I was admiring your record collection.”

“Cool, huh?”

“Not bad,” she acknowledged.

“What's your favorite band?”

You guys.

“I don't have a favorite band, I have favorite songs.”

“Like what, for example?” Scott was interested.

“Master of Puppets, Live wire, Kickstart my Heart, Nothing Else Matters, Smoke on the water...”

“You're very old-fashioned,” he poked her.

“Oh, no, I like a lot of modern songs, but I don't want you to think badly of me because of my musical tastes.”

“Don't worry about that, I know you're not a one hundred percent metal head,” he reassured her, solemnly.

“What gives me away?” she asked.

“You seem too smart to have limited yourself to only one genre of music.”

“Thank you.”

“Why didn't you want to do it with Tim? I mean, I don't want to be nosy or anything, but he doesn't usually get turned down, you know?”

So that was the story he had told the others... well, she already suspected he hadn't told them the truth when Scott hadn't tried to kill her on sight.

“I didn't feel comfortable,” she replied, with a third shrug.

“Because it was a public place?” She nodded, “You sure are very old-fashioned.”

Pol returned, followed by what looked like a lingerie model. He escorted her to the door and returned to the living room.

“Playing, huh?” Sadie commented acidly, “Is that what it's called now?”

Pol shrugged, looking like he didn't know what to say.

“At least he wasn't playing with himself,” Scott joked.

“Tim will see you now,” said Pol, pretending not to hear Scott.

“Have fun,” the guitarist wished her when they had almost rounded the corner. Sadie gave him the finger.

She followed Pol down the stairs and across the hall to the door marked with Tim's initials. She understood what he meant by "having the red light on" when she saw that next to the door was a red-light bulb, although it was currently off. The door was ajar, and before opening it all the way, Pol knocked twice.

“Come in!” Tim's voice sounded from inside.

Pol smiled encouragingly at her and pushed the door open. Sadie stepped into the room, and the door closed behind her, leaving her alone with the vampire. Tim was sitting on a low couch by the window, playing in shorts, headphones on. As she took a couple of tentative steps toward him, Sadie couldn't help but notice the many tattoos that covered the skin on his arms, neck and chest almost completely.

“Your friend was very pretty,” she commented, cautiously moving a little closer.

“Are you jealous?” he asked, still playing.

“No, it was just a comment.”

“Right. I don't know if you're very brave or very stupid to come here,” he said. His fingers continued to move nimbly over the strings, as if it cost him no more effort than breathing.

“Probably a little of both,” she replied. She had asked herself that same question dozens of times as she drove up to the mansion.

“I suppose you've come to get your things.” Sadie nodded. Tim finally put the guitar aside, took off his headphones and walked over to a closet, from which he pulled out her purse. “Is your name really Sadie Thompson?” he asked, turning around.

“No. I mean, my name is Sadie, but that's not my last name.”

“Do you still want to kill me?” He asked as he held out the purse.

“Yesterday I was catching up on your music,” she said, evasively, taking it and slung it over her shoulder. “Somehow, I'd hoped you'd stalled, but you haven't. Killing you would be like... like going to the Louvre and burning the Mona Lisa, but...”

“But...?” he encouraged her.

“By expressing my desire to destroy you, I have marked you as a target in the eyes of my family, and I don't know how much longer I can keep them distracted with other prey before they pressure me to try to kill you again.”

“I see.”

“No, you don't. You don’t get it,” she replied, angry with herself. “My life... you couldn't possibly understand.”

“Try me. I'm smarter than I look.”

Slowly and deliberately, Sadie lay down on the soft carpet. She began to speak only when she noticed Tim sitting on the floor as well, not too far away from her, but far enough not to be threatening.

“My siblings and I were brought into this world for two clear purposes: to hunt vampires, and to produce and train more hunters,” she told him. “So, half a year from now, if nothing happens to prevent it, like my death or his, I will be married to Arthur, my fiancé, and I will have to try to get pregnant as soon as possible.”

“You have a fiancé?” He repeated, “That’s nuts.”

“It's an arranged marriage with another hunting family,” she explained. “Men can delay their wedding date until they're thirty-five if they want to, because you're supposed to be fertile for longer.”

“Do you know him well, your future husband?”

“We've met a couple of times” she thought of Arthur: born and raised in the southern states, medium height, with some interesting ideas about weapons, and ten years older than she was. “He's not a bad hunter, but I don't have any feelings for him.”

“And is there anyone you do have feelings for?” Tim asked.

Sadie looked at him, thinking back to the night she had tried to kill him. The rule had always been that they had to get close to their target by any means at their disposal. In her case, trying to seduce the vampire in question to stake them wasn't an unusual method, but she usually felt nothing while doing it, if anything, disgust and the excitement inherent to the hunt.

With Tim that hadn’t been the case. The adrenaline was there, of course, but when she kissed him, the disgust didn't show up; instead, another emotion came, one she wouldn't have expected to experience with a vampire in a million years: desire, pure and genuine, albeit brief. She preferred not to think too much about it, as she was sure he could smell if any significant changes occurred in her body.

“None of what you're supposed to feel when you're in love” she said at last.

“You're lying,” he said. “Honestly, I don't care if you're lying to me, but you're lying to yourself, and that's very messed up.”

“Does your little friend know what you are?” she asked, diverting the conversation.

“Of course not, I erase her memory every time.”

“So she doesn't remember anything?” she wanted to know.

“Only the pleasant parts... Don't change the subject! We were talking about you, not me.”

“The truth is that I'm trapped in this life, whether I want to be or not,” she sighed, looking away again, “and I've put you in a no-win situation because I was a stupid teenager who couldn't get over her favorite musician turning into a vampire.”

“Is that why you wanted me to kill you, so you wouldn't have to marry that guy?”

“It wouldn't really solve anything, but at least you wouldn't have given me the chance to start questioning things,” she said, blinking very fast to try to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over.

If I start crying in front of a vampire, I'll shoot myself, she thought.

“But that's good, isn't it?” he said, seemingly oblivious to her conflict.

“My world is falling apart, Tim,” she said, cursing herself as her voice broke at the end of that sentence. She dared to look at him again, “All because a vampire I couldn't kill, instead of doing the sensible thing and bleeding me dry on the spot, spared my life. Apparently, not all of you are evil killers.”

“You're twenty-five and you didn't know that?” he scoffed.

“I've hunted and helped hunt real monsters,” she said, frowning at the seriousness of the matter. “A vampire in Iowa fed exclusively on children under the age of nine. He kept them locked in his basement for weeks, until he finally bled them dry. We found the skeletons buried in the garden behind the house, at least half a dozen of them, and he had only been living there for two years.”

“One Ohio vampire lured runaway teenagers with the promise of hot food and a bed to sleep in, and then killed them when they were comfortable and safe. Another vampire, also in Ohio, targeted prostitutes and homeless people; those who no one was going to miss, and for whom the justice system wasn't going to give a shit about should anyone report them missing.”

“In New Orleans, there is a group of vampires so numerous and active that it takes three families of hunters to keep them in check. They are responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people a year, especially in the poorer neighborhoods. Most vampires I have encountered are not content to take just a little bit of blood and erase their victim's memory, they want it all and make sure they are savoring every last ounce of fear, pain and sorrow in the blood they take.”

“I see you do a lot of research before you kill them,” he commented.

“Planning is key in these cases, unless you want to go from being the hunter to the prey,” she said, sitting up. “Under normal circumstances, I would have died the first time we met, and now you wouldn't even remember me.”

Don't think it's so easy to forget you, little hunter, thought Tim.

“Tell me how I can help you,” he said instead.

“I don't think you can, but thanks for listening. Anyway, it's time for me to go,” she added, getting up; he got up too. “You know? You're very sweet... for a vampire.”

“Please don't go,” he begged, moving at vampiric speed to cut her off. “Not yet.”

“Do you want to be my knight with shining fangs?” She joked, “It's going to backfire.”

“I want to help you, that's all,” he replied with a shrug.

“There's no way out of this one, but I appreciate you wanting to try.”

“Will I see you again?”

“Do you want to see me again?” He nodded, “Is that what it takes to flirt with you?” she asked, amused, “Trying to kill you?”

“Ha, ha,” he replied, mockingly. “I'm just saying that maybe we could be friends, learn from each other, and then... I don't know, you could convince your family to give me a truce.”

“Oh, you want me to take my family off your back,” she said. “Fair enough, since it's my fault, but I don't know if I can convince them that you're a good vampire.”

“Can you at least try?”

“Sure,” she agreed, giving him a half-smile. “Give me your number, I'll call you.”

“Okay.”

He gave her his number and after seeing how she saved it in her phone (the real one, not the one she had carried in her purse that night), saving it on SF (there was probably a code in there, but he thought it was better not to ask), he stepped aside to let her pass.

“I'll walk you to the door,” he said.

“I know the way, thank you,” she replied.

“Please.”

Sadie rolled her eyes, but nodded. What Tim actually did was open the door for her and follow her to the entrance, careful not to walk too close in case he invaded her personal space. He leaned against the door frame.

“Well, see you another day, I guess.”

“See you later.”

He stood there, watching her leave, until the gate to the premises closed behind her.

“You like that girl, huh?” said Scott behind him.

“What?” He asked, turning around. “I was just making sure she didn't leave anything behind this time.”

“Right, and that's why you were looking at her ass?” Scott asked.

“I wasn't... I wasn't looking at her ass!” he exclaimed defensively.

“Liar. When are you going to fuck her?”

“I haven't slept with Sadie, and I don't plan to for the foreseeable future, okay?” he said, curtly.

“Okay, you don't have to be like that,” Scott replied, holding up his hands as a sign of non-aggression.

Tim closed the front door.

“I'm going to my room,” he announced.

Sometimes living in that house was a bit like the jungle.

“Don't forget we have rehearsal later!” Scott shouted at him as he was already on the stairs.

It was several days before Sadie called him. He was with his favorite blood bag, Anya, a Slavic-looking ballerina with hair dyed pink. She was riding him, still in her underwear, rubbing frantically against him, when his phone started ringing.

“Don't take it,” she begged.

However, seeing that he didn't have the number saved, he shoved her off his lap and picked up the phone, ignoring her protests. If the spam filter was working, that call could only be from one person.

“Hello?”

“Tim? This is Sadie. Did I catch you at a bad time?” she asked.

“No, I'm not doing anything I can't put off.”

“Who's calling you?” Anya wanted to know, getting up from the floor.

“Shut up or you'll have to wait outside,” Tim said in an angry whisper. “Sorry, Sadie, you were saying?”

“I thought we could meet, if you're not busy.”

“Who is this Sadie?” Anya asked. “Are you banging another chick?”

“Wait a minute,” he said, covering the phone. Trying to contain his frustration, he turned to Anya. “What did I just tell you? Wait outside.”

“But...”

“Either you go out on your own or I'll drag you out, take your pick.” Anya snorted, but did as he said. “Excuse me, I can talk now,” he said into the phone.

“If you're with someone, I can call you later,” Sadie said.

“No, don't worry, I'm available,” he assured her.

“Is it okay if we meet for lunch? I know you don't eat, but I think it's a good time?”

“Yes, yes, that's fine," he hastened to say. “Where?”

“I'll text you the address, okay? I have to hang up.”

“See you later.”

He hung up and went to open the door for Anya. The girl stomped in and pushed him out of the way.

“You bastard!” She spat, starting to get dressed “It's cold in the hallway!”

“I told you to shut up and you didn't, it's your fault, not mine,” he replied, shrugging.

He lay down on the bed, ankles crossed, hands clasped under his head.

“Are you fucking that Sadie girl?” Anya asked him, crossing her arms over her chest.

“No.”

“Liar!” she accused him.

“I'm not lying. I sleep with other women, that's true, but not with Sadie.”

“You're a bastard!” She repeated. “I thought we had something special.”

“You are not my girlfriend, I never promised you exclusivity,” he said. “Although I can make you my only blood bag, if you want to die very slowly,” he said, baring his fangs as he spoke.

Unlike the others, Anya did know what he was; they had met at a party hosted by a friend's sire, for vampires and humans in the know.

“Are you unable to separate sex from eating?”

“I can separate them, but it's more fun if I don't,” he said. “And the blood tastes better. I'm so sorry, Anya,” he said, sitting up, “We do have fun together, and you're my favorite, but that's it and that's all you're ever going to be.”

“I don't want to do this anymore, Tim, can you... can you erase it for me?”

“Sure.”

After dressing, he escorted her to the street, where he proceeded to erase all traces of himself and his siblings from her memory. He left her alone and watched through the lattice as she came out of her trance.

“What was I doing here?” She wondered aloud. “Shit, I got lost again. I'd better call a car...”

He didn't feel sorry for her; in a week or two she would have a new vampire to offer her veins to and he would have a new girl to feed on. Though perhaps she was right and he should start to settle for just feeding. Sighing, he walked back into the house.

“Did something happen with Anya?” asked Clay, who was reading a book in the living room.

“I had to erase her memory.”

“Oh, well, don't worry, it happens to all of us once in a while,” Clay replied with a dismissive gesture.

“I know. Listen, I have a lunch date, so maybe I'll be late for rehearsal,” he warned him.

“To have lunch with her or to have her as your lunch?” Clay wanted to know, closing the book and putting it aside.

“To have lunch with her.”

“Is Sadie really so important that you're going to be late?”

He didn't bother to deny it.

“Look, I don't know if I'm going to be late, I'm just saying that, if it goes on too long, it might happen,” he replied, somewhat defensively. “It's not like you guys can't manage without me either, is it?”

“What are you planning, huh? Don't deny it, I know you're up to something,” said Clay, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Come on, tell me, you know you can trust me.”

He bit his lip, thoughtfully. He didn't want to tell him, but, after all, if Sadie's family was after him, the others were also a potential target, and at the same time they could benefit from the truce, if he could get them to grant him one.

“If I tell you, you have to promise not to get angry, and not to tell the others, okay?” he said at last.

“I swear on my mother, who is also your mother,” Clay replied, feigning solemnity. Spill it.

“Sadie's a slayer,” he said, slumping down on the couch next to his friend.

“What?”

“Let me finish, please. That night she went to the club to kill me, but when she had me... she changed her mind,” he said. “She spared my life, so I did the same with her.”

“You should have eaten her,” Clay said.

“Yeah, but I didn't; I don't like killing, you know that.”

“Neither do I, but sometimes you have to make exceptions,” Clay said.

“I disagree,” he countered. “Anyway, when she came here the other day, she told me that maybe she could get her family to leave us alone for good, so I'm going to meet with her and figure out a strategy to make that happen,” he explained. “You're angry, aren't you? You promised me you wouldn't,” he reminded Clay.

“This is serious, Tim! The hunters may seem like mere humans to you, but if enough of them go after you at once...”

“I know, and that's why we're going to figure out a way to not get killed.”

“Why would someone like her even want to save you?” Clay wondered.

“She says she appreciates my talent. Our talent,” he corrected himself. “That's why she didn't kill me when she had the chance.”

“Yeah... You know, I think you should fuck her. Today, after lunch.”

Tim almost choked on his own saliva, something that hadn't happened to him since he'd become a vampire.

“What?”

“Well, humans love sex with us, don't they? It would give her one more reason not to want to kill you,” Clay argued.

“She's not like the rest of them, I'm sure she finds me repulsive. Please don't tell the others,” he begged, “at least until I have something positive to tell them.”

“All right,” Clay agreed. “But if you don't get them to give us a truce, we'll have to move,” he warned. “And if they follow us, there'll be bloodshed, and you wouldn't like that.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's not your fault, kiddo,” Clay assured him, sighing. “This is the jungle, and every once in a while, a hunter becomes prey.”

Sadie waited nervously at the restaurant where she was meeting Tim. Fast food wasn't her favorite, but the place was noisy and crowded enough that no one paid any special attention to them, and it was far enough away from her house that she wouldn't run into his family by accident. It wasn't the location that made her uneasy, but the fact that he was late.

He finally walked in the door, dressed in a black hoodie, which covered most of his tattoos, and jeans. For once, he had left his hair somewhat more natural, instead of styling it in his usual way, which made him look like an anime character. He greeted her as if they were old friends and approached her table.

“Sorry, I couldn't find parking and had to wait for a man to come out with his pickup truck” he said as he sat down.

“That's all right.”

“Well?” he urged her.

“I've been dropping hints: ‘what if a vampire didn't kill and if in that case we wouldn't be committing murder...’, that sort of thing,” she said between bites.

“And how did it go?”

“My little sister is convinced that such a vampire cannot exist, but she is open to offering amnesty to any vampire who refrains from harming humans,” she informed him.

“That's a start.

“Yeah. Mom, Jack and Luke, on the other hand, were not so open. They said that you are monsters who only parasite humanity and that our duty is to exterminate you all,” she said, chagrined. “Jack added that even if vampires didn't kill their victims, you always felt the urge to do so, and sooner or later, you would succumb to it. My dad and Tony said nothing, although dad was all the time looking at me like I was crazy.”

“Well, I didn't expect it to go right the first time," he replied, with a forced smile.

“I'm sorry, it's going to take longer than I thought,” she admitted.

“But are we safe?”

“There are more urgent targets in this city, and you're too well known for us to just kill you anyway. A hit like that, all four of you at once... we'd need reinforcements and plan very, very well.”

“That's very reassuring,” he replied, sarcastically, with a hint of hysteria in his voice.

Sadie frowned and looked away, annoyed. She had other, more pressing problems right now, at least on a personal level.

“What's the matter?”

“Huh?”

“Something's wrong with you and it's not this,” said Tim. “Come on, tell me about it.”

“Do you remember my fiancé, Arthur?” she asked. He nodded, “He's coming here next Monday, to start preparing for the wedding. His parents are staying in a hotel for a few days and in less than two weeks there's going to be a party, sort of a pre-wedding, if you will.”

“Pre-wedding?”

“It's a tradition. It strengthens the engagement, so if I get pregnant and he dies before we get married, his family still recognizes me as part of them, and the baby,” she explained.

“But you're not pregnant, are you?”

“I'm not, and I don't want to be, really. I don't want to be a mother.”

She had never said those words out loud, at least not where anyone could hear them, but it felt surprisingly good to have someone hear them for a change.

“Well, don't be.

“It's not that easy, Tim. And with my record...”

“What does that mean ‘with my record’? I thought you were a good hunter.”

“I am,” she said, showing him her own tattoo: eight black lines on the inside of your forearm, grouped five by five, and four red lines, “one of the best, but they're very conservative. Hunters, I mean. Certain things are tolerated only as long as they don't interfere with the mission.”

“Like what things?” he asked.

“I... God, this is so embarrassing... I don't... I have never...”

“You've never what? “he encouraged her. Sadie bit her lip, undecided whether to tell him or not. “Come on, spill it already, it can't be that terrible.”

“I've never been with a guy, okay?” she sputtered.

“Are you a virgin?”

“It depends on what you mean by that” she replied, uncomfortable. “We were always moving from here to there and it's easier for me to connect intimately with other women.”

“You're a lesbian and they're going to force you to marry a guy?” he was alarmed.

“I'm not a lesbian, although it would be an even bigger problem if I were,” she agreed. “It's not that, I just don't want my first time with a man to be with Arthur, I'm not attracted to him at all.”

“And is there anyone you are attracted to? Maybe I could...”

“You?” She interrupted him, “My own mother would kill me if I slept with you.”

“I was going to say that maybe I could introduce you to someone,” he said. “I have human friends, okay?”

“Oh. I'm sorry,” she apologized, blushing. “I appreciate the offer, but I just don't work that way. I can't just sleep with someone, there has to be a certain... connection first, I don't know if I'm explaining myself.”

“You explain yourself well.”

“Most of the men I've met so far are very shallow, they don't want to get to know me, they want access to my body and discard me as soon as they get what they want,” she said, “and I don't want that. I am physically incapable of feeling sexual attraction for someone I don't know.”

“But you desired me. I mean, not to brag or anything, but I could tell.”

There was no point in denying it, not when he knew, and she didn't want to lie to herself either. It had surprised even her to realize that she had indeed, for the briefest of moments, lusted after Tim.

“Parasocial relationships are tricky terrain,” she admitted, grimacing. “I was your fan: I watched your videos, listened to your music... I felt like I knew you,” she explained, “that your songs spoke to me about your innermost thoughts, even if it wasn't in words. Seeing you in person was like medicine, in that sense. It totally cured me of your attraction.”

“Because I'm a vampire?”

“Because I realized that I don't really know you at all,” she corrected him. “I want to know you, Tim, I really do, and I'd love to be friends, despite our differences, but right now you're still a stranger.”

“I want to be friends, too,” he said hopefully. “Maybe with Arthur something similar will happen to you. I mean, eventually…?”

“No. I've known him longer than you, and I know I'll never find him attractive.”

“Why not?”

“Arthur is not a bad hunter, but his ideas about the world and our role in it are even more rigid than my family's,” she said. “If I marry him, according to tradition, I will have to go live with his family in the South, and I will be forced to stay at home, give birth and train new hunters until I am no longer fertile. Then I will be considered too old to be in the field, so I will be relegated to teaching and making weapons. Imagine if everything you've worked for all your life was suddenly taken away from you, how would you feel?”

“Very bad, obviously.”

“I don't do this to kill vampires, Tim, I do it to save people,” she said. “If I stop being a working hunter, I want it to be my choice.”

“I understand that. And I still want to help you with all that, I really do.”

“You're very sweet,” she said, flashing a sad smile.

“You already told me.”

“Does it bother you that I do it?” she wanted to know. “Do you have a reputation to maintain?”

“No, and no, not at all,” he acknowledged. “Except perhaps for having easy fangs.”

“Is that what they call it?” she asked, amused.

“I like to eat, and I like to fuck while I eat, and unlike you, I'm into casual sex. I'm not going to apologize for being the way I am.”

“I'm not judging you,” Sadie assured him in a soft voice. “Not because of that, at least.”

“I know you're not going to believe me, but there are plenty of humans out there who willingly feed us,” he told her. “Some have even made it their profession.

“Blood whores, yes. I know, although I have never met any.”

“Is that what you call them? That’s tough.”

“What do you call them?” she was interested.

“Fleurs-de-lis.”

“A very nice euphemism.”

“It's safer than being a prostitute,” he insisted. “They don't have to have sex if they don't want to, we pay them well, and no one is forced to do it. They have health insurance, days off, and even a union.”

“Not all vampires are like you, Tim,” she pointed out, frowning.

“They have no choice but to be if they want to use their services,” he explained to her. “Fleurs-de-lis run their own business, with their own rules, and if a vampire breaks one of them, they will be banned for life.” Sadie raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “You don't have to believe me if you don't want, but maybe you should talk to a few of them first before judging.”

“Okay,” she agreed.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, introduce me to some of those fleurs-de-lis,” she said, as if savoring the word.

“This weekend there will be a party at one of their locations. I can bring a plus-one, so you could come with me, if you want,” he informed her, checking his calendar app. “Do you think you can sneak out?”

“Won't it bother you that I'm human and I’m not... well, one of them?”

“No, don’t worry. I'll send you the details later, when I know the exact place and time.”

“Very well then, it’s a date. Now I have to go,” she said, getting up and picking up her tray. “And, Tim?”

“Yeah?”

“I prefer sweet fangs to easy fangs. It suits you more.”

If his heart was still beating, it would have done a pirouette.

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

You know I like to think of myself as a pretty open-minded person. Fanfiction, in my opinion, has always been about exploring whatever you find interesting within your fandom. You're allowed to write about anything that you want and if someone doesn't like it then they don't have to read it. But let me tell you, this mindset has been severely tested by some of the Quaritch content I've seen. I'm totally fine with fics that portray him as a villain and person at the same time because even bad guys brush their teeth and all that, but guys. He is not a good person. I want people exploring him as a villain, not as some redeemable or misunderstood person. That's not what anyone working on the movie intended for him. The way he destroyed Hometree without a second thought? The way he obeys a horrible corporation mindlessly? The way he rubbed Neteyam's death in Jake's face? The way he had literally no problem killing and hurting those around him in order to find Jake and his family? The deaths of hundreds of people both na'vi and human rest on his shoulders! You don't get to justify that with "oh, well he's just misunderstood".

I try and find the good in everyone but I just can't see anything good in this man. Anyone who causes the type of pain he caused and feels no guilt (or even worse: thinks that they're justified in their acts of hatred or that the other party are the people deserving of punishment) has no good in them. And that's okay! People are allowed to acknowledge a good bad guy, and I think Quaritch is pretty interesting as far as bad guys go and there is a lot of fic potential for that very focal point. But that's it. There is no excuse for his actions and no redemption in his future and the day karma finally catches up with him (again) will be the best day in movie history.

I am very curious as to what fandoms you've been a part of before if this is the first time you've seen this phenomenon. By that, I mean the phenomenon of a fandom excusing the actions of a (typically white and male) villain. I find it to be pretty common. To me, it's one of the scariest things in media and fandom today. I've made a ton of posts about it, but I like to call it the Darth Vader trope. The idea that one good act or one scene of past trauma can wipe a slate clean, with no regard for the systematic harm caused, no reparations, and no work done to actually change and evolve as a character. I find it to be a really dangerous thing to show. The idea that so many people can rally around these actions just being swept under the rug, that they will get mad at you for even reminding them they occurred, is really terrifying to me. Media does not exist in a vacuum, and if so many people are that eager to move past genocide in fiction? It is for parallel reasons so many do in real life.

Trauma is not an excuse, it is an explanation. Change is a long process, and with serious, real world issues such as the ones Quaritch represents, time and effort are owed to the marginalized groups affected. If Avatar is really supposed to be a movie inspired by the beauty of indigenous cultures and the horror of what happened and is still happening to them, then I think fans excusing Quaritch are really doing something quite disgusting in ignoring that.

(If you want to spend as much time freaked out by genocide as I do, Genocide Watch is the place for you! They don't have the US on alert rn, but they fucking should! Also they're a lOT Pro-Israel in their alert on that, but there aren't many places to keep up on current genocides sorry).

[rakuya-nikki]

Oshi no Ko - Entry #7

Just caught up to Oshi no Ko.

Man

First of all, it feels almost unfair to compare it to other shows when its first episode was basically a movie. No, not "basically", it was like an hour and 20 minutes long, so that is a movie LOL

God and it was so gripping too, it had so much development and motion, so many twists that I genuinely didn't expect coming, and it made me feel truly involved in the plot of the world. It's almost unfair to the rest of the show, given how after the movie prologue, it essentially turns into a slice of life, romance typed thing. Perhaps not as typical as your usual shows of those genres, but it's definitely similar to it.

Yet, even when it starts devolving into that sort of stuff, it destroys the competition compared to the others given how much effort they put into the themes and topics of the world. Those being "show business". Acting, idols, YouTubers, the shady shit behind the scenes of it all, the difficulties that these human beings face trying to do these jobs, the emotional struggles, the moral quandary of faking your emotions.

As someone in the YouTube industry right now, some of the ideas really hit a note with me. Even if I'm not particularly "big", I'm definitely in a position where I can see just how human my fellow YouTube creators are, and thus, I can also see just how inhumane some people can be on the internet towards these people.

I'm not gonna lie, the little arc with Akane becoming public enemy #1 in the forums and comment sections of the show really, really struck a chord with me. Like... my god, the utter, visceral rage I felt seeing those comments. It really did not feel like made up, exaggerated shit. That really is how people can act online.

I've hated people for a lot of reasons in my life, but it's that ability to stick to such unnecessarily vitriolic comments, despite knowing less than nothing about any of the important details. The only thing stopping me from viewing the people who make those types of comments as subhuman (other than the fear of becoming just like those people), is knowing that I've made those types of comments before too. Hell, sometimes I can even get wrapped up in drama and make snap judgements about things I don't know much about.

It's in that sense that what I hate is just the culture of it all. I really, truly, despite show business. I loathe how people treat these actors and content creators as people they can just say anything about, whose worth only goes as far as their productivity in views/high ratings. The show doesn't put too much focus on hating this side of the culture, it mostly mentions it with an "it can't be helped" sort of mentality. Though reading between the lines, you can definitely tell they're condemning that nature. Looking down on it. Because that's what it's worth, being looked down at. It makes me look back on my past self, who would leave hurtful comments in YouTube videos, or judge creators harshly for no apparent reason, and it makes me think of that past self as just despicable.

Anyways, the show proved to be great for studying too. The language was very complex, and it featured a lot of modern-day lingo that I can definitely make use of, especially as someone who normally specializes in media/marketing anyways. Knowing vocabulary for it is nice.

Not to mention, even if a big emotional point was me feeling disgusted at the anonymous hate wagons, the show also does an amazing job at showcasing the... beauty of show business, as an art form. If anything, that's the main focus of which it criticizes the "business" aspect of it all. How it takes away the soul of the process, and how the characters strive to shine despite the darkness in the industry.

Really, that's just it. The strength to shine, give hope, and have fun, despite everything holding you back and wishing for you to fail, is a strength that really resonated with me. Ruby didn't get too much time in the spotlight yet, but she's a great character in this regard.

I admit, it gave me newfound courage and motivation for my YouTube career. If anything, it made me wish I had more personal friends in the field to be able to talk with, and have fun with. I do have a lot of YouTube friends online, of course, but the setting takes place in the city. A city where these people can easily meet in person and do their things. Man... wouldn't that be so fun?

I'm torn, really. On the one hand, I truly despise the industry. I hate how it strips the humanity away from these people, and how fans can grow such toxic, insane mindsets that, in my eyes, tarnishes their own sense of humanity. Viewing people and lives as a form of "business" has always put a metaphorical black hole in my stomach. It's why I stopped following the money-hungry, business drive, "stock market" typed mentality shit. Viewing life as a commodity, to me, ends up ironically stripping it of any value.

Yet... there's something I truly resonate with the strength of will that comes from being able to destroy the norms of the industry and just have fun doing what you want, or putting a lot of heart into things as an art form.

Perhaps my biggest takeaway is to be 100% concrete in my views of not being a bitch about content creators. Someone uploads something I think is cringe? Who gives a shit, go work out or something instead, fatass. Someone gets involved in some big drama? Either leave it to the police or ignore it altogether, this isn't high school anymore. Someone makes a point I heavily disagree with in a video? Okay? Who cares?

It's one thing to criticize a product, but criticizing a person under the guise that they're a content creator or whatever inherently implies that they're being treated like a product, and I can't stand for that. Life really isn't that serious. It's more important to have fun with things, and if something isn't your vibe, then unless that person is doing something truly morally apprehensible (which does happen, of course), then just let things happen.

I feel like that idea wasn't even that much of a focus of the show, but it's still the major thing I took away from it. Famous actor, famous YouTuber, famous composer, they're just dudes. Sure, they're worth looking up to. Sure, you can get happy if you meet them. But they're not gods. A "fall from grace" should never be possible, for they never had grace in the first place. They've always been one of us. No, even more, because despite being one of us, they still put in so much time and effort to make us smile or laugh or cry or what have you, and I think taking away the humanity of such efforts is just a shame.

Back to Oshi no Ko, it definitely feels like it's going down "harem" route, which is... ehhhhhh. To be honest, there are a few elements of the show that I can see a lot of people being put off of. I'm a bit numb to those types of things (which might not be a good thing), and frankly romance has always been a guilty pleasure of mine, but I'm definitely not gonna be recommending this show to everyone like I do for other things like One Piece or Haikyuu.

Speaking of which, there's been a lot of shows that I've wanted to continue consuming after catching up to the anime, but so far I've only done that with the One Piece manga. Haikyuu has gotten close to making me want to, but I guess the kinetic flow of the animation with the volleyball games made me think I'd rather keep waiting for the anime than read the manga.

Oshi no Ko is getting... pretty close to making me wanna keep up. A season 2 was announced already, but there's no telling when that's gonna release. I wanna start reading, so maybe I'll do that. As much as the animation was absolutely gorgeous, I also think I could get by with just reading the manga and not lose too much, so it could work out. We'll see how I feel...

This is the part where I'm in emotional turmoil. Where I don't want to move on from a certain piece of fiction, yet know that I should probably starting moving on soon lol... Man, this never gets easy.

Maybe I will read the manga, if it's easy to access.

Anyways, favorite character is either Kana or Ruby, though I think Aqua is a solid main role too. In terms of... that kind of favorite, Mem definitely checks off all the boxes.

Though... to be honest, another element that this show makes me really think about is idol culture (though perhaps calling that "another element" is off, given how intrinsically connected it is to the things I ranted about before). That and "waifu" culture, though perhaps the fictional nature of "waifu" cultures puts it in a less serious league when compared to people treating real women in that sort of way.

I've always been hesitant of it. Not from a purist stance, I absolutely have a lot of fictional characters that I get those types of feelings for. But... for real people? Isn't that just... weird? Parasocial relationships are a topic that's... still a bit beyond me, but just the culture around obsessing over these people, judging them as if they're flavors, where you pick your favorite, and move on if it spoils or you find something better. It goes back to how it makes everything lose its humanity. Yet... the idea of it being a source of comfort and inspiration for these people, and that the actresses are a strong source of light, makes me look up to them all the same. It makes me understand why some people look up to and love idols, to an extent.

It's complicated, huh...

Anyways, love the show. It left several impressions onto me, which is always the mark of some great media. Good time to be alive.

[blackwldcw]

Blackarachnia's Friends, aka 'Cons Who Adopted Them

Zircon: An engineer they met shortly after joining Shockwave's science corp. He was constructed in Tarn to be a miner but had aspirations to be a quantum mechanic. He first encountered Blackarachnia during a routine repair of the facility's generators; having latched onto the Decepticon's newfound xenophobic rhetoric, he felt that he was above listening to a techno-organic. His tampering led to further malfunction, and Blackarachnia shoved him out of the way before being hit with the power surge herself. The jolt of 50,000 volts wouldn't have caused as much damage to him as it did the Eukarian, and yet, she chose to save him, anyway. That made him rethink his previous biases. He was the one to carry them to the facility's medic. He became a more amiable colleague after the incident, and an informal bodyguard. Everyone quickly learned that unless you were Shockwave himself, you didn't talk shit about Blackarachnia within earshot of Zircon.

Derby Scalpel: A worker constructed in Helex. Despite his alt-mode being a bulldozer-like vehicle, he always had a desire to heal rather than destroy. However, the Functionalist Council prevented him from applying to any medical academy. He learned the trade informally by patching up workers hurt on the job, and later, studied under more formally trained medics in triage clinics during the war. He and Blackarachnia encountered each other on a ship shortly after the latter's release from Shockwave's employ. They were injured in a battle with Autobots, and Blitzwing wasn't around to help them patch themself up. Frustrated that none of the other medics wanted to 'sully' their servos by touching a Eukarian, Scalpel gruffly ordered the arachnid to his side of the medibay. In Blackarachnia, he found a kindred spirit, someone who joined the war because they believed in the true Decepticon cause-- liberty, justice, and equality. After the war, they kept in close contact. Scalpel worked to set up clinics for former Decepticons in Kaon, Helex, and Tarn, including facilities for mental health care.

Cobalt Kalamity: An MTO built in Kaon to repel Megatron's advance; however, it appears they went through more than just the three orientation steps. He could read and think and question, including wondering why he had to listen to his superiors. He met with a Decepticon envoy secretly. He read Megatron's Towards Peace; he saw footage of the riots, of the Clampdown and civilian killings. Disgusted at having been a tool to further the ends of an oppressive regime, he switched sides, and changed his name. Blackarachnia saved his life during the war with their shield invention, during the siege of Iacon. It protected him from the Rainmakers' acid deluge, and repelled a round from a sniper, besides. They rarely spoke during the war, but afterward, Kalamity wanted to show his gratitude by working with Blackarachnia to reintegrate Decepticons. In post-war IDW verse, they're a Decepticon-aligned senator who is currently overseeing Kaon's rebuilding effort.

Nitro: Member of a constructed cold combiner team, similar to the Combaticons. They combined to form Pandaemonium. Nitro was the right hand and arm. Impatient and brash, with an explosive temper, others found Nitro difficult to work with, let alone get along with. Everyone, however, except for his conjunx, Turbo, and Blackarachnia. During a battle on a far away war world, Blackarachnia went back into the fray to retrieve an injured Turbo. Turns out all of that attitude was hiding a spark that was in the right place. He came to defend Blackarachnia and call them a friend. In post-war IDW verse, they're a peace-keeper in Tarn.

Turbo: Fellow member of the Pandaemonium team. Turbo was the left hand and arm. Conjunxed to Nitro, and his complete opposite in nearly every way. Introspective, soft-spoken, and kind. In post-war IDW verse, they're a political activist, who teaches art therapy classes on the side.

[ketavinsky]

Hello Shrike :) Is that like the bird? It’s very pretty. I definitely mourn the loss of messenger pigeons, and pigeons as pets in general. I feel a bit bad for them. They were domesticated and made to love and depend on us just to be tossed out and seen as dirty, ridiculed for not knowing how to care for themselves when for years we reassured them we would be there to help. Leave it to me to get emotional over pigeons, my bad. I think I’ve finally figured out part of the reason the concept of home scares me so much. I’m not sure if you remember my first message, about the codependency? I think I’ve built my idea of home around so many people who destroyed it or abandoned that it skewed my ideas. I’ve sat down recently and designed a concept of home that’s just for me, and my cat of course. Do you have any pets by the way? Anyways, it looks like I’ll be on my own for a while longer before I can move and start that home but it feels different now that I’m doing this for me. I think just getting out of my town will be a big step in the right direction. I’m hoping I can feel home soon enough; I’m really hoping you can too.

I understand feeling separated. I’m not sure if it says something that I can only think of myself in terms of creatures but the best way I can think of is that I tend to feel like a sk!nwalker, or an alternate if you were into the Mandela Catalog. I try to seem like the people around me, near the point of imitation. I don’t know who to be without someone. My personality is hardly my own, usually borrowed in a bid to close the distance. I feel that despite my efforts people can see immediately that something’s not right, that I only become further removed. Trying to discuss things of this nature, or nearly any nature truthfully, feels like I’m speaking a different language and people can get the general idea of what I mean but they don’t understand. I’m not sure why it is that I can have solid evidence I’m not the only one who feels like this and still feel unknowable. I try not to lose hope that if this is another language, someday someone will speak it. Maybe it will be of more comfort to you that I understand, at least I believe so. I apologize if I missed the mark.

As for cruelty, I do feel most times that ai’ve been unbelievably cruel. My mother (complicated topic) always told me she had one dream in life and that I crushed it. She had wanted a girl, some details excluded, and I was never able to live up to exactly what she pictured. The final straw was coming out. I think I’ve been leaving, changing for a while. By never recognizing myself I am constantly shifting, searching for something that feels real. I know I’ve hurt a lot of people this way. I know I still am. I have a partner right now, kind of. It’s complicated. I fear I have changed too much for them, I fear we have spent the last few years solely hurting each other. I’ll try not to go off on a tangent. I’m not sure the cruelty has a source, perhaps it’s been twisted from self hate? To me it seems that if you feel no connection to yourself and your life, you don’t realize when you’re letting things go and eventually it feels safer, comforting. An ever present changing, shifting, if I keep rotating through people and lives no one will notice I’m not quite whole, not quite a person in the way they are.

I think being understood is maybe the thing I want most. It feels like if even just one person could really truly understand and not shy away from the weight of it all that I could feel… complete? real? human? normal, not too much? safe perhaps. I think safe encompasses it all. Eye contact is hard for me. Even people who are well trained in hiding their emotions struggle to hide it in their eyes. I’m terrified that if I have to look at them I will see the disgust or boredom or disdain. Equally, I’m scared that I will be too easily read. They will see someone empty or someone desperate or worse, look straight through me. I don’t want to be looked at like I’m not even here. I wasn’t able to see his eyes. My friends saw the start of it, more than I did, and dragged me away. I was a liability, unpredictable. I know their intentions were well but I couldn’t help but think what it meant that I was the only one deemed unfit to know what happened. He’s… I hesitate to say alright. He never said whether it was intentional but he did survive. He was

back within a couple weeks but… some things change you whether you survive or not. I haven’t gotten to talk with him since, he’s rarely around.

I appreciate the compliment. I’ve dabbled in poetry and writing myself but none of it seems enough to share. I’ve got a couple things floating around on tumblr but I think that’s as far as it’ll ever go. There are very few things I wouldn’t give to be part of someone else. I feel as though I’m not quite complete, that I’m better served helping and caring for another. I’m trying to learn how to be someone alone but I am codependent to the core. I think sometimes that maybe I was supposed to be with someone, some divine soulmate or twin flame or any way you’d like to describe it but the circumstances of my creation cursed me, that they were ripped away at the last second and I was left to wander off center, incomplete, searching.

I tried to think of what to add on about the sense of self but you worded it better than I could have. Everything seems to be so black and white but things are often blended. I too often need the things that aren’t strictly good for me. I tend not to explain my past much, I haven’t found someone yet that understands it, it’s easier to be vague and short. I hope the same for you. I hope that you have found, or do find someone who understands you.

I’m very sorry to hear about that. The loss of friends, especially such long lasting ones, goes far beyond and words I can string together. I really, deeply hope you all can find a way to work things out. I don’t think you’re a coward for not knowing what to do, there’s often no precedent for things of this nature. I carry everyone I’ve loved with me for so long, I don’t understand how anyone can walk away. I hope you all get another shot. You deserve more time.

-N

hello N! finally days are bright enough for me to respond which is to say theres been a little bit of sunlight recently so i am far enough out of my hole to respond to messages! i also mourn the generalised hatred people have for pigeons- i am reluctant to quote the meme here, because i do mean it in a genuine way, and not in a funny ironic way- but i mean, who are we to decide which of god's creatures should die and which should be so completely loathed? anyways, i really internalised that when i was heavy in my extremely atheistic phase, more convoluted roundabout now, but i haven't been able to let go of it. love pigeons. love all birds. designing a home for yourself and your cat sounds really cool, and a lot of fun. thank you for your well wishes pertaining to be home- its been a difficult couple of weeks as all my thoughts have been rotating around that concept. i dont really have a pet- my roommate for the past couple of years has a cat, who is highly anxious and extremely skittish, but she seems to really enjoy my company. when he goes travelling at the end of the year, shell become my cat as he goes hiking across nepal. i really admire his financial freedom, and his resolve and ability to plan for the future, but taking care of a cat that i love isn't a bad outcome at all, so the discrepancies in our lifestyles doesnt bother me too much.

yes, i have watched, and greatly enjoy, the mandela catalogue. i do appreciate what you've said about understanding. a little while ago, i managed to reconnect with my old best friend, the person who this piece of writing is about

please dont read too hard into the maybe-mugging/maybe-stabbing/maybe-sex act portion of this. to this day neither of us know what we saw. anyways, he and i planned to go to university together, loosely- when that didnt work out, we drifted apart until very recently when i realised he was living down the street from me. when F and i were best friends, i lived to be his friend. i see now that i had to be apart from him. if we'd been friends the whole time, as close as ever, the past few years, i would have never been anything but an extension of him. if i'm honest with you, that doesn't sound like a bad life to me, needing someone, not really being anything of a person, just being a limb- asserting a sense of self, making a sense of self, believing that i have a self at all are odd to me. i think you understand. i think it would be a good life to be a limb- not a healthy one, but good for me only. it's sort of the secondary theme of my debut that im writing right now, but......... well, what i've realised is that i would have never been able to be F's extension. the other day when i saw him he made a couple of comments that stuck with me, one being 'the problems you have now are the same problems you had at 15' and 'i dont think theres anything up with you at all. i think youre just normal, despite everything that happened.' it's interesting hearing things like this. i think it should be gratifying, that i've managed to keep everything under wraps and appear functional enough, but somehow it's not. i feel like i'm going to walk in long spirals around a distinct point, the point probably being that i feel like a cuckoo surrounded by other people, until i grow exhausted and starve. i read about death spirals a couple of days ago. it seems too thematically perfect to be real. i probably shouldn't talk about the life i live like this, like something i can dissect from a distance, but, anyways- if i can't take it apart it's not real to me. i don't think many other people understand this -by extension, as i can't effectively take myself apart, i am barely real to myself- and as a result im sort of... leaning against the same glass wall asking to be looked at and cowering when someone does. you know?

im glad your friend is alive. i read "some things change you whether you survive or not" about an hour after you sent this and sat with it for a few days. i hope youre alright as well. i hope you were not regarded as the unfit one to see him. i think... i dont like how that sounds. im sorry that it felt like that. i also struggle with eye contact....... i feel like i alternate rapidly between completely missing social cues and being hyper aware of them in every interaction, and how peoples eyes change is excruciating to me for that reason. i cant tell what ive done wrong until i see the eyes... do you feel like that too? i... well. on the subject of being understood, i crave it, but i shun it- i can't stand sometimes being asked close and vulnerable questions. i feel like... i have to be able to hold it in my hand before i give it to anybody else. i have to be able to pull its teeth out and declaw it and dissect it and pack it into compartments. when i imagine being understood, it's performative: i get up and do my routine, we look each other in the eye. it doesn't feel like being stripped raw. i don't know. i don't know at all.

i understand the feeling of incompleteness. i think alchemical perfection is to have two conjoined into one. i had such a fixation with conjoined twins when i was young and i just cant shake it. do you have a vision of your ideal, if you were to be assimilated into somebody else? what would it be like? would you be a limb or a parasite or something that erases the distinction between these things? would you eat when they ate? im not being funny or blase here, just to be clear- i do want to know. would you be sustained from what sustained them, or would you require something else? i think that i would require more. i feel like i require more than everyone ive ever loved. it's... an interesting feeling.

thank you for your kindness. i, too, dont understand how anyone can ever walk away. from a diagnostic/clinical/etc perspective i can understand- i can quite neatly sum it up in a couple of paragraphs. it's one of those things ive dissected very well, the potential pathologies i harbour and turn around like spinning tops. but in a real way, in a way that i can touch and taste far more comprehensively than my attempts at compartmentalisation and analysis, i don't understand how anyone can leave at all. it breaks my heart to see anything left behind. an insect crushed on the pavement moves me to tears.

thank you for saying that we deserve more time. i use the universal we- including you, as well. i struggle with time- everything im afraid of and everything that could possibly go wrong at any point in my lifetime runs in my head on loop. im almost fond of the tracks it makes through my mind as it circles around. that's another thing that i think... sort of sets me aside from a lot of the people i know. i have an appreciation for the perverse and macabre that would not be out of place in a 19th century short story, but doesnt really suit where i am now. i like it when things go wrong. i dont, but i do. do you ever feel like even the brightest loveliest parts of yourself, like love, like caring, are enrobed somehow in something objectively quite unsavoury? sometimes it's there because i will it and other times it isn't, but it's still always there, bursting at the seams, waiting to emerge.

hope the world is bright where you are, N.

[juszar2]

A Tale of Some Lowlies....

The possible lowly, toilet paper plant by Satan in my life.... I just examine, document. A liar with no truth in him is a wow response. It would be a first to see someone claim to be a man and be as used, as disgusting and detrimental. I don't know if when they sought him, he was scared or what, or if they used acquaintances to find him, or maybe just the number in my personnel file. This is not a place with many standup ethical staff. HR was definitely no, no formal degrees nor training and anything goes at that time, likely still. He did say "that bitch is not a crime lord"... I told him yes, crimes for sure, but how did he know what the fencer... Is. Imagine in employment, you find yourself amongst someone who did and is all that I documented here. And then you find that by extension or directly, the person you only worked with has been trying to "set you up" and know of personal contacts in your life so that it can use them to attack you. Imagine that person you worked with is vile as evidenced by attack and colludes with a band that includes a homosexual enemy from your childhood -it offers sex to your spouse and their plan is to harm you and stalk your life. Imagine that. I seen a similar movie, but this is life. This is a unique situation launched upon a unique woman who has made every effort to stay away from lowly. To find that this person has let them into my life. I don't even mingle with the type too much. I have a very private life. Imagine meeting that level of rot and lowly. He says "black community" he does not want in his life nor homosexual black enemies of mine. Claims conservatism. I could examine some more things about him and how it is that he could be so weak while swearing on God, racking up a tally of treachery for himself.. And definitely if true, at almost 50 years old. He failed so badly in all of the important ways. But all conditions of him would evidence the sum total of him if true. It is the first thing you learn in upbringing and so I will understand his sickness and deficiencies if true. Satan loves division and will send his jackals and rot to attack those seeking higher ground in a variety of ways. The conditions, deeds, circumstances of those involved evidences Satan. The cowardice of this male would have surely been a factor in his ability to be used for such. Without dignity, beings can do a lot and lie daily on and in God's name and a father he claims to love. The homosexual's obsession is fulfilled through him at the same time as the scorned fencer. What is insidious is the method by which they display their envy and jealously. The following, invading seeking to come into my life when I want nothing to do with them. Normal people do not understand invasion and pursuit... It is the norm for this rot. For the used, and lowly.... Such a situation is ideal as there is no character, no compass and no need to have "integrity" Satan will help him remove any of those things and tell him that they are of no value. Because it is disturbing to be made the subject of this obsession, I asked him to speak to someone and repeat what he says to me (the likely lies). He looked like he wanted to cry (very cowardly). A lowly sick would inform my enemies of my life and be used as I juggle all of the important adult things. He shall be named and it is bad. The invasion stalking and fixation of a person is not something that the pursued can be responsible for. It is dangerous and sick. If true this lowly male is the responsible party primarily, but the fixated has launched the effort. I watch, wait, and document, but I am aware of what... And why. I know that there are men who are men and think this would be shocking and sick.

I get that on your journey... Satan will send them if you seek an upright life. If you don't Satan will feed every negative character trait that you possess in the hopes that you destroy all. His weakness is apparent and the rot knows it. But what I marvel at is what envy moves folks to do and be, and at near geriatric age. I am not talking people who have it all together and are seeking to walk upright, but the lowliest follower folk nearly empty but for the lowliness. It was something to learn of them both stewing over me and documenting it in such vile fashion.