#for being so petty but it’s like those that can’t hear must feel and I know I broke his heart bc he didn’t expect me to take it there

[gentlesounds]

.

[tyunn1ngz]

Yeonjun being your ceo hubby and you both got in a argument but had to go to a party so he spent the whole night talking with other people and you got bored so you went to go dance with a guy and Yeonjun pulled you back saying

"I know we aren't in good terms at the moment but if you think I'm gonna let you be touched by another man that isn't me the you are fucking crazy"

And either you tell him to fuck off and it turns into angry sex when you both get back or he drags you out the party and he drives to a empty car park and you both fuck in the backseat 😁

UR INSANNEEEEEEEEEEEE. cw hes kinda mean and hypocritical ? idk also i got so carried away w this dont ask me why its 1k words i literally dk what happened,,,,

no bc i imagine it would be something sooooo petty, something that clearly needed to just be chatted about but the time just slips and suddenly your attitude is just through the roof while you have to converse at this stupid party with a bunch of snobs who you decide in the heat of your anger he’s just like (you know he’s not)

and every word yeonjun speaks just serves to piss you off more >:( that dumb smile on his face like he didn’t upset you and then cater to everyone else with such ease. pretending like everything’s okay, like how dare he ! 🙄

the final straw being that maybe he laughs a little too loud at one of his employees jokes, leaned a little too close in to hear them, allowed touches that linger too long to be friendly intentions; all while he’s almost completely ignored you all evening, when you were only here for him anyway— all dolled up just for him to argue with you and then ignore you.

so you take your interest elsewhere, allowing whatever guest next hits you with a ‘no pretty little thing like you should be pouting like that’ to be your entertainment.

it doesn’t work as intended at first, your eyes consistently darting back and forth between this stranger and yeonjun, who seemingly doesn’t pay you any mind. you deflate a little, chugging back the rest of the champagne in your glass.

and then, this stranger, who you have yet to gain the name of, tries to touch you. he starts with a click of his tongue, grinning as he tilts his head a little. ‘come on, darling. don’t look so sad. i’ll keep you company… get you another drink?’ and his hands begin a slide for your waist.

alas! he’s abruptly stopped by a grasp on his wrist, tight and practically a chokehold around the limb. you know those fingers anywhere.

‘they’re fine. thanks.’ yeonjun says, composed and completely nonchalant on the surface of his tone. but you can see his grip must hurt, can hear the dip of frustration in his voice.

and then you’re being lead by his hands, gentle loving touch ever not present, until the breeze of night air bites at your skin. you frown, and pull yourself free from his clutch, standing before him looking just as frustrated as he seems to feel.

‘the hell are you doing?’ to which he scoffs a laugh, cold as the temperature that wisps at your face in bursts of wind.

‘the fuck are you doing?’

your brows furrow, anger settling under your skin again, your whole body tense. ‘what the fuck’s that supposed to mean?’

‘were you just going to let him lay his hands on you? you seemed real comfortable.’ he’ll tell you, tongue in cheek. it’s unbelievable, completely ironic that you feel maniacal.

‘you can’t be fucking serious,’ you smile despite yourself, ‘you cannot be fucking serious, yeonjun.’

silence falls over you two for a moment, every ticking second he just looks more and more pissed. you stand there practically urging him on, disbelief written across your features in such clear displays. yet, he’s still quiet, and somehow it scares you just a little. but fuck, he’s such a hypocrite! you’re the bad guy when he had hands on himself all night with no protest? you are the one in trouble like he didn’t ignore you all alone at his work party?

‘let’s go.’

you’re broken from your reverie of rageful stomping thoughts, the build up of all the mean things you want to scream at him quickly fading. now a little thrown off by the calmness of his voice, tone void of any actual emotion, your mouth drops open a little despite nothing to say.

‘huh?’

‘i said, we’re going.’

dumbfounded, you find yourself tugged along again, towards the car park where you think an awkward, tense ride home will await you. where you expect a pillow and spare blanket thrown haphazardly over the couch by the end of the night.

the last thing on your mental list to expect is being pushed up against the passenger side door, caged in with a finger under your chin, a hand on your hips. your eyes are frantic in search of explanation as you look up at your husband in shock.

his thumb moves to your lips, pressing into the soft flesh where you've already parted in a quiet gasp. yeonjun grins a little, eyes dark and full of mirth.

‘you've had an attitude all day, baby,' he'll say, 'you know well there's nobody else for me than you, hm? no matter how bratty you get with me.'

you gently bite as his finger in retort, 'still doesn't explain your sudden work wife, does it?'

his grin widens, a tad scary in terms of trying to provoke a more negative response. 'just like you throwing yourself at my coworker, yeah? bit desperate for attention, don't you think?'

you bristle, 'he was keeping me company while you whored yourself out, but okay.'

he doesn't falter like you want him to, but his hands tighten on you. he tilts his head.

'yeah? why don't you go back inside to him then? think he could fuck you right, sweetheart?'

oh.

you twitch a little, breath exhaled less confident than before, and he's quick to notice it with such a smug smile. you want to wipe it right off his face, but you fear everything you've built yourself up with tonight is quickly crumbling down.

'maybe he could.' but he can hear how unsure you sound, and he laughs. he's condescending you now. yeonjun hums, leaning closer.

'you don't sound so confident. what makes you think he could handle your attitude, anyway?'

you lack the words, the bite, falling so quiet as he stares at you intently. eyes trained on every tiny change your body language gives him. your eyes stare back, already glassy while your lips start to pout. but you snark once more.

'fuck you.'

it's a haze. because before you can even begin to think of saying anything further, he's got you in his backseat. you're bent over, his chest to your back, your attire completely dishevelled and underwear ripped down your legs, as he fucks into you so hard you know you'll feel it for days to come.

he pants hotly right into your ear, ‘you can be mad at me all you want, baby, but nobody touches you except me, you understand that?’

you can only mewl in response, already too fucked out as the pleasure turns your brain into mush. however, he’s not satisfied with that, and with a grunt he reels his hand back to lay a loud slap on the fat of your ass.

‘i asked you a question, i expect a fucking answer. or are you already too fucking stupid on my cock to talk?’

you sob, nodding your head frantically while you try to hold yourself up on trembling limbs. ‘yes, yes. i understand’

his thrusts manage to grow rougher, and you fall forward until your face presses into the leather of the seats.

‘so cute when you cry. you ready to apologise to me? hm? tell me you’re sorry for being such a brat to me.’

‘m’sorry!’ you cry, another spank this time landing on your thigh, ‘m’sorry, ‘jun. won’t happen again.’

he laughs as he throws his head back, hands on your hips to fuck you on his cock. he’s breathless but it’s so so hot.

‘liar. i’ve spoilt you too much. all you know now is how to get what you want. and this is what you wanted? for me to fuck some sense into you?’

you know it’s technically not true, he knows that too, but you start nodding frantically regardless. the haze of your pleasure renders you to his complete mercy.

‘yes! i’m sorry. just need you. always need you.’

‘you have me, angel.’ he grunts on a particularly harsh jolt of his hips, cock hitting a deeper angle as you cry out so loud you almost miss his words.

‘y’always have me. let me prove it to you? want me to knock you up? m’gonna make you a mommy.’

[another-lost-mc]

Could you do Barbatos and a crybaby mc please?😊

BARBATOS x gn!Reader (platonic or developing feelings/pre-relationship) 1.3k words | SFW | Minor Bullying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff A/N: I'm weak for soft!Barbatos, I can't help it. obey me m.list

Lavish parties at the Demon Lord’s castle require the utmost care and attention to detail. Barbatos might be exceedingly efficient, but he can’t possibly handle all tasks himself. Little Ds and other castle staff assist him so that trays of Demonus and hors d'oeuvres circle the room; guests never need to go far for refreshments.

With the mundane chores assigned to others, Barbatos focuses his energy on serving Lord Diavolo. He follows the young prince like a shadow, observing all the demons that approach him and make polite small talk. Barbatos pays even more attention to the hushed gossip of the other guests around them. Sometimes attendees with loose lips are foolish enough to think they can share secrets here; they don’t realize Barbatos is always listening.

Barbatos is at his master’s side when a conversation nearby draws his attention. It doesn’t take long to pinpoint where the suspicious whispering is coming from. One of tonight’s out-of-realm guests - a witch with a particularly nasty streak - is gossiping about you to her acquaintances. It’s not unusual for visitors in attendance at these events - demons, humans or even angels - to talk about you quietly. Your presence in the Devildom and the feats you’ve accomplished draw a lot of admiration. 

For a smaller group of guests at these events, your achievements makes you a target for scorn and envy. They try to sully your accomplishments with back-handed compliments and barbed insults. The fools that choose to insult you in such a public gathering are usually smart enough to do so discreetly. They should know better than to bully you when they risk being overheard by those that adore you. 

Barbatos fixes his gaze on the group of witches and demons not too far from him. The demons can lie and blame their behaviour on the Demonus in their glasses; the human witch has no excuse Barbatos will accept.

He can ignore the petty, jealous remarks she makes that he knows have no merit. However, the witch’s scathing criticisms of you become uncomfortably personal. She laughs about the way you style your hair, your choice of attire for the evening and how foolish you look trying to blend in amongst the Devildom elite like you belong here. She makes a tasteless joke about the special perks you must experience being in a pact with so many demons, and she cackles loudly enough to be heard over the crowd.

Not too far behind them, Barbatos sees you - your eyes water and he realizes you’ve heard her too. He frowns when he watches you back away from the witch and her friends, eyes shimmering as tears threaten to spill over your lashes and down your cheeks. You turn around and head towards the back of the room, disappearing through a doorway that leads to the gardens.

Barbatos spares a glance over his shoulder. Diavolo is speaking to a group of demons nearby, but their eyes meet. Years of working together allows them to communicate with the slightest gestures; Diavolo nods his permission for whatever it is Barbatos has asked; if the demon needs to step away, it must be for good reason. 

Barbatos weaves through the crowds smoothly and heads towards the doors you fled through not too long ago. His jaw clenches when he hears the witch laughing again; he reminds himself that it would be rude to interrupt his young master’s party with bloodshed. His tail flicks anxiously behind him.

One of the little Ds floats by with a tray and makes a beeline for Barbatos. He declines the offered beverage, but he whispers something to the small demon before exiting to the gardens to find you.

It’s not difficult to figure out which part of the dark garden you’ve taken refuge in. Barbatos follows the sounds of your poorly-concealed sobs to a small marble bench surrounded by a beautiful assortment of Devildom roses. The ground around you is littered with used tissues and you whimper pitifully when your small package of tissues is emptied. 

You don’t hear Barbatos approach, and it’s only when he sits on the bench next to you that you gasp unexpectedly at his presence. You’re overwhelmed with embarrassment - from the witch’s hurtful words and Barbatos finding you like this - and you look away in shame as more tears threaten to fall.

Barbatos places his hand on your tear-stained cheek and turns your face back towards his. He’s not smiling when he wipes away a stray tear. “Come here,” he murmurs when he reaches for you and you let yourself relax into his embrace. He rubs your back when you hide your face in his chest. He can feel your tears start to soak through his shirt, but he doesn’t mind. He cradles you through another wave of sobs and he whispers words of comfort.

He waits until the crying subsides before he leans back enough so he can tilt your face up and look at you properly. He pulls out a handkerchief and dabs gently at your cheeks before he hands it to you should you need it again.

Your lips twitch into a small smile, and his eyes track the movement when your lips part and your tongue wets the dry, slightly chapped skin. When his gaze meets yours again, there’s something questioning in your expression, and he can see his reflection in your eyes when he moves closer to you—

A terrible, high pitched shriek coming from inside the castle surprises you, and you scramble away from him. “What was that?!” you ask in a panicked voice.

Barbatos smirks at the sound of ruckus in the distance. “The Little Ds are evicting an unruly guest. They’ll be leaving shortly.”

He pushes away the disappointment that the moment between you is over and he stands. He offers you his hand and pulls you to your feet. You link your arm with his and lean against him. As you walk towards the castle together, you hear the Little Ds giggling maniacally over the sound of dishware crashing on the ballroom floor. 

“What exactly are they doing in there?” you ask Barbatos questioningly.

Before he can answer, the soft splat of cake against the glass doors makes Barbatos sigh. “It looks like they’ve started another food fight. Again.”

He suggested that one of the Little Ds spill a tray of drinks onto the awful witch that would hopefully expedite her departure. He’s not sure what the witch said or did in retaliation that caused the Little Ds to start a brawl. He can see dishes and food flying from within the castle doors. The party has come to an abrupt end, and he hears his young master bidding the guests farewell with barely-concealed amusement. 

“I’m sure Lord Diavolo is thrilled by these developments, but he’s never had to scrape buttercream from gold filigree before—“ Barbatos starts to complain, but he looks over when he hears you make a muffled noise. You’re stifling laughter behind your hand, your eyes bright and teary for a happier reason now. The annoyance he felt starts to fade, and he can’t help but smile too.

Barbatos reaches for his D.D.D. when it pings in his pocket. He stops walking to check his messages, but he motions for you to continue without him.

Diavolo: Number 5 and Number 6 had to drag the witch out of the castle. Everyone else left quietly. Diavolo: Your little stunt worked - too well, perhaps. You should see the state of the chandelier.  Diavolo: I hope the clean-up is worth it.

Barbatos glances at the door where Number 2 has floated outside to see you. He’s telling you about his noble deeds as he mimics the action of throwing something. The little demon has smears of food on him, and you use Barbatos’s handkerchief to wipe away some of the mess. Barbatos feels warmth spread through him when your eyes meet and your smile is so bright it leaves him breathless.

Barbatos: Indeed it is.

[boredzillenial]

Wordless Apology

Summary: Jake takes Marc and Steven away during wedding planning, and you’re done.

Themes: gn!reader, angst, Jake being tóxico, established relationship, yelling, spitting (once in readers mouth), crying, Fade to black ending

Length: ficlet

Authors note: Just dipping my toes back into writing on something short I’ve had on the back-burner for awhile. Hope y’all enjoy!

“Goddamnit Jake I’m done!” You shout, whirling to face him. “I can’t do this anymore!” Hot tears streak down your cheeks as you hastily shove clothing into a suitcase.

“It was just a couple of weeks it wasn’t that long.” He huffs, pouring himself a drink.

“Wasn’t that long?! You were gone for a month! Goddamnit Jake, Steven Marc and I were planning for the wedding. Our wedding. And you just had to fucking spoil it didn’t you!” You continue to shove clothing and toiletries into the already stuffed cases. “You inconsiderate, jealous -“

“Excuse me?” That seems to have struck a nerve as he slowly walks toward you. “You think I’m jealous of those two cucks? They think of nothing but you. What you think, how you feel.” His eyes sparkle with something you can’t quite place. “I’m not jealous princessa, I’m over it. They may be swooning over you but I still have freedom.”

“Ah there it is. So yet again your proving some petty point by bailing exactly when I need them.” You zip the suitcases shut and chuck them on the floor. “Well congratulations Jake! You did it.” A new wave of tears well up as you bite your cheek to try to stop them. “I’m out, I can’t do this with you. Not for a lifetime.” You pick up your bags and carry them to the door, dropping them with a huff and heading to the kitchen.

“What…” a momentary flash of panic in his eyes as he glances in the mirrors. Steven and Marc must be screaming for control of the body seeing you like this.

“You fucking heard me. I’m done. You have thoroughly broken me down.” The tears in your eyes spring free as you grab food from the fridge. “And I can be petty too you know! You can’t cook for shit so have fun ordering take out. You’ll never get to taste my cooking again, fucking asshole.” You pack the leftovers into a tote and head to the door.

You hear Jake angrily whispering in the mirrors behind you, “Just hang on!” He snaps in your direction.

“Fuck you! I’m fucking done.” As soon as your hand hits the doorknob Jake is on you, caging you in with his arms and pressing the door shut. Nose to nose like this you resolve begins to crack, looking eye to eye with the men you love. “Jake-“ you growl.

His expression shift and brows furrow, “Love wait, please we can fix this.” Steven’s voice comes out wrecked and strained.

His head shakes and expression shifts back to Jakes frustrated expression. “Just wait a fucking second.”

“Oh now you care?” You hiss.

His throat strains and eyes roll back for a moment and yet again his expression shifts. This time to pain and a frown, “Baby, we’ll handle Jake just give us a chance.”

Hearing Marc’s voice and seeing the agony in his eyes further cracks your resolve. Your hand comes up to caress his jaw and run a thumb along the edge of his frown, “Sweetheart I’m sorry, I can’t.”

His head throws back, neck straining again and when he meets your gaze his eyes are dark. “You see what you do to them.” He growls accusingly.

Your hands fly out before you can stop yourself, shoving him away, “What I do to them?!” He stumbles a moment.

The second time you shove him he barely budges. “Don’t-“ he warns.

“You know for someone so fucking disrespectful you really can’t deal with someone challenging you huh?!” Your anger and hurt burn in your belly. “Dish it but you can take it.”

“Why when you’re usually the one so good at taking things…” That sent you over the edge, and before you could stop yourself, you spat right in his face.

He’s shocked, wiping a hand across his face and looking at it. “You just made this so much easier.” His hand flies up to your throat, pressing you against the front door. “They’re screaming in my head - I can’t let you leave.”

“Let me go.” Your voice strains in your throat against his grip.

“You’re going to give us a chance to work something out. But first, open your fucking mouth princessa.” He hisses.

Outrage flares your eyes wide, “fuck you.”

He tilts his head “I won’t ask again.”

“Make me.” You snarl.

His grip tightens on your throat, his other hand comes up to grip your cheeks. He presses and squeezes till your mouth opens. The intensity of his gaze sends lightning to your core as he spits into your mouth. His hand shifts to cover your lips, “Swallow.” He growls.

Your eyes narrow as you shake your head, he chuckles. “Fine.” He moves his hand and his lips crash into yours. His kiss the antithesis of those you shared with Marc and Steven. This was rough, consuming, breathtaking.

Your mind whirls with emotions and sensations. Pain, Love, anger, fear; They all blazed like a furnace as you melted against his embrace, his touch turning from rough to tender. When he eventually pulled away you realized you’d been crying during it all, and when your eyes met his - so had he.

“Jake?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. Only his slight nod gives you confirmation. “Is that you or them crying…”

He clears his throat and swipes his shirt across his cheeks. “Doesn’t matter -“ he says gruffly “ - what matters, is you’re not leaving. Not tonight, not like this.”

“Ja-“

“Please-“ his voice broke, and for the first time since you’d met him, you see a flicker of fear “Please don’t go. For us. And if not for me - for them…”

Tears ran hot down your cheeks as you try to center yourself, “Jake - the way you act. How you disappear, you can’t do that anymore.”

He nods, stepping forward and kissing you softly. In one swift motion he lifts you, carrying to the bedroom. Another first happened that night, Jake apologized in the only way he knew how.

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

Taglist: @melodygatesauthor @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @ominoose @romana-after-dark @lunar-ghoulie @flowercrownonapegion @howellatme @mooksmouse @ahookedheroespureheart @beezusvreeland @auntiegigi @moonkxight-blog @faretheeoscar @queerponcho @for-a-longlongtime @silvernight-m

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silver Lining 13

Warnings: non/dubcon, speech impediment, bullying and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: silverfox!Bucky Barnes

Summary: You have an unpleasant encounter with an older man.

Part of the Silverfox AU

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You lay under the covers, hiding. From the world, from the man on the other side of those walls, from yourself. You just want this to be over with. You want to go home and be alone.

You roll over and sink down beneath the flannel and heavy quilt. They smell like laundry detergent. Not a bad smell, just strong. You’re not crying, you won’t let yourself get that far again. You just can’t stop thinking.

Mr. Rogers face imprints in your mind. You just see his face every time you blink. You feel his grip on your, moving you, using you. You whimper as a flash of his office replaces the dim bedroom around you.

You sit up, ready to scream. GO AWAY!

As scalding as the memories you tried so hard to forget is the embarrassment of your outburst. You though you and Bucky were coming to an accord. That you were getting along but he just had to keep pushing and pushing, needling at the sore spot until you came unraveled. You can only blame him so much. You’re responsible for your own behaviour.

You hear the stairs creak and you hug the blankets as you listen. His footfalls come down the hallways and you see his shadow beneath the door. He stops there and you brace yourself for his knock. It doesn’t come. He continues down the hall and clears his throat loudly.

Hinges softly whine and his voice startles you, “hey, yeah it’s me. You get home okay?”

The door shuts out his next words as it clicks sharply. You can hear his muffled tones but you can’t make out the words. He must be on the phone with someone. You think you know who.

You sit up and drag yourself over to the window. You look out at the lazily drifts of snows. It’s slowed but what’s fallen is deep and treacherous. It’s like a scene out of a fantasy show.

You huff and back away from the window. You’re not getting anywhere. You cross your arms and plod around the room, restless as your stomach swims with your dinner and the craft beer. You’ve never been one for alcohol.

You won't sleep like this but you don't know how to go out and face him. Every time you think you've found peace, it crumbles into another petty argument. You don't think you've ever fought so vehemently with anyone. No one's ever pushed your buttons so easily.

His low tones continue to roll through the air as you walk in circles, lost in anxiety. You just have to wait out this storm. After the last blow up, you doubt he'll want to hold you to your promise. He has the script, he can figure it out.

His door opens again. He's silent as you hear his advance outside the room. He stops again, this time he knocks. You stop in place and hesitate.

"Hey, if you're awake..." he says.

You march to the door and open it an inch, peeking out at him, "a-awake."

"Right, uh," he seems almost surprised by your abrupt response, "I just wanted to apologize. Again. I know I keep doing this but I swear I'm trying not to."

"Mm," you purse your lips and nod, "y-yeah..."

"So we can just focus on the podcast. I still wanted to show you the studio... if you're not too tired."

You stare at him. It would be a good distraction, even with him. You can't just hide away. This is his house.

"S-sounds good," you let the door fall open.

His throat bobs and he exhales, "great."

He turns, beckoning you with jab of his finger ahead. You follow him. He's being nice at least. As nice as you can hope for.

He leads you down the stairs and stops in the kitcheb to grab a flashlight from a drawer. The house is getting darker by the minute. He points you to a door across from kitchen.

He opens it and holds it open, waiting for you to descend first. You take the steps on at a time, your hand firmly on the railing. You turn the corner and come to even ground, looking around at the spacious basement as he flashes the beam around, guiding your gaze.

The walls are cover in black-grey sound proofing and a desk is set up with a monitor and microphone, another table with various equipment atop it just on the other side. There's a clear booth build around the desk, likely to keep the sound concentrated in one area. He steps down behind you and you sidle out of his way.

"I've done some sound tests. I think it works pretty good but it's hard with just one person," he explains, "wouldn't mind having a second set of ears..."

He shoves a hand in his pocket as he paces, his other hand moving with his words.

"R-really? Even a-after... earl-earlier?" You ask meekly.

"It's been a stressful day. We can just let it go," he shrugs. "We were getting along, weren't we?"

"Y-yeah," you agree.

"So let's go back to that," he says, "forget everything else. In the morning, the plows will clear all the mess away and I'll take you home but tonight you're going to have to put up with me."

"G-guess I can t-try," you utter as you bring your hands up and rub them together.

"Cold?" He wonders.

You nod. Down here, you can see your breath. He backs up, "let's go. Powers gonna stay out for a while. You're welcome to sleep by the fire for the night. This place is frigid."

"Um, m-maybe," you step past him as he points you upstairs. He trails you, the light glaring around your figure and casting a shadow ahead of you.

"Well, you can at least finish your beer," he insists, "I'll crack a second and see if it doesn't mellow me out."

You nod as you get to the top and move out of his way, "th-thanks."

"Well, you know, I do listen. You were right... about my manners. I'm working on it... trying not to be stubborn old man.”

[daistea]

Hey, so. I wanted to ask about the interpretation of pre-Dungeon Lord Mithrun as being very catty and Regina George-like. Personally, and I've got no problems with it, I'm just really curious where it comes from, but I don't get that read. He was catty and petty and all sorts of unpleasant, but Misril essentially confirms that he kept it all inside because he seemed so perfect and his Dungeon was some great surprise to her. Built on lies and jealousy and inferiority but she had no idea whatsoever. He was festering in silence, I think, and all that ugliness was tucked inside. He was scrambling. Probably imagining himself as alone and unique in his ugliness and failing to speak truthfully about his feelings because he must've been taught that ugly things - like affairs and disabled brothers? - are to be hidden. You're something else before you're a person, so you must be nice and kind and good and emblematic of that. And it isn't as if I was raised in any position of power, but royal houses can be sort of emblematic of that kind of repression of personality, where being small and quiet and smooth and obedient is "good personhood". He was revealed as a mean drunk, but that's about it. Truly, I think catty Mithrun is comfortable Mithrun, so I like to imagine that post-Dungeon Mithrun is the catty one. I think it's funny to imagine our relationship, as it were, and imagine people watching with him and judging people for the fun of it. It's not personal or to feel better or anything. It's just because, and he says some truly out of pocket shit, and I'm there, a little reprimanding, like, "Oh my God! You can't just say that..." and I'm looking at him. And he's looking at me without saying anything. An eyebrow raised. My expression cracks. I look away and snort. "God," I say again. "Oh my God. Yeah. Okay. Fine." Laughingly, "Uh... That's the tackiest, brightest jacket I've ever seen in my life. It is disgustingly offensive. My eyes are practically burning. Is that it?" And he smiles a little. Barely there. And I groan and lightly smack his shoulder. "Is that what you wanted to hear?" He shrugs, "Was it honest?" "Yeah. I mean, I'm exaggerating for the fun of it all, but..." I shudder. "God, it's horrible," and then maybe I get into it, like the minutiae of opinions. Being very opinionated. "And it's worse because not even badly shaped! It'd be fine if it was, like, a simple black coat or something. The texture looks okay, but it has the worst patterning, the worst shapes and colors and—!" And he's laughing out loud. Holding his hands on his stomach, because I've gone full into gesturing and I'm getting so heated about a stupid coat that doesn't even matter, but it's fun! It's amazing. We're having a great time, and I'm laughing, too, because it's silly and it doesn't matter and I'm happy like this. We both are. He frowns a little, and goes, "Okay, what about that shirt?" and making his own statements, like "Ugh. That gold looks like vomit", and we play off eachother, like "Ough. Yeah, and that red with that shade is so bright." I raise my eyebrows. "Evocative." Mithrun hums. "Blood and vomit," he nods. "Ew." We look at eachother and shake our heads sort of sagely. And then I crack first. I almost always break first.

Ye when we joke about pre-dungeon Mithrun being catty, it’s more like he’s catty on the inside. He’s canonly critical and judgmental and angry in his own mind, but I think he also genuinely loves his friends. He just can’t help but be a negative nelly in his head bc insecurity and whatnot. I think if pre-dungeon Mithrun was especially close to someone, close enough to let his true nature show(which would be incredibly rare) then he’d express those thoughts outwardly. But in secret. Nobody realizes he’s catty, but he is. Because he’s passive aggressive and fake lol

I do think post-dungeon Mithrun is a jerk too, but he has no reservations about expressing it anymore because he has no desire to keep up appearances. He doesn’t dislike his old self because his old self was mean, he dislikes his old self because he just automatically dislikes himself in any form. And even then I think that’s subconscious. When he corrects Kabru and basically says ‘no I wasn’t perfect at all’ he’s just stating a fact. He has very little feeling on the matter other than resentment towards his own actions and emotions that led him to the demon and subsequent trauma.

I think Misiril prob taught him that being relatively polite gets him places, it keeps everybody around him from wanting to leave. And if they left then he wouldn’t have the necessary manpower to defeat the demon. So if he makes the decision to keep certain thoughts to himself, it’s either because it’s easiest/out of habit/to prevent an obstacle in his quest. I mean obviously he still says outlandish crap (“Inferior species.” “CAPTAIN THATS RACIST!”) but I think that’s because he knows it wont really matter in the long run in those cases, so he just says whatever’s on his mind without a care of how it sounds.

But yeah post-canon Mithrun would probably be way more relaxed. If he’s with someone he’s close to, he’d point out an ugly shirt. I wouldn’t call him catty, because there’s no passive aggressive-ness there. He’s just blunt. His old self would have an absolute heart attack because iTS NOT PROPER STOP IT YOURE GOING TO MAKE PEOPLE HATE YOU!!!

The juxtaposition between his past and present is so interesting. They’re like two different people, so different but still similar in some ways. Hmm

[princessamericachavez]

It’s not that Maddie creates a group chat specifically to check in on Buck. The group chat without him existed already for abysmally different though not completely unrelated reasons. So when Eddie sees the group change from the sober Hospital Updates to the playful Operation Keep Buck From Going Nuts it does startle a chuckle out of him. It reminds him that Buck is alright, at home, and finally free from his visitors.

Still… he is not entirely sure he is on board with the whole schedule thing. Not like it’s his place to say much, though. Maddie is Buck’s sister, she has seniority in the department of looking after her brother, and Eddie does understand where that instinct comes from. Hell, didn’t he drop Christopher on Buck’s lap last time he was forced off work to get his mind off his own convalescence? Still…

You’re not gonna get into the Buck Watch rotation? Chim’s texts him privately, after nearly everyone else has picked a day and time to drop by the loft.

Eddie purses his lips downwards. If Chim is texting him about this, Maddie must have brought it up (much like Buck and himself, there isn’t much those two don’t share with each other). He wonders if he’s being judged by it. No one commented on his absence in Buck’s room during their long vigil hours at the hospital, but they must have noticed. Now this. He knows what it must look like.

Did you want a parade of people at your place last time you almost died? He shoots back.

Yeah, no, that’s a good point. Chim’s reply is quick. I tried telling her, but she’s still worried…

Eddie sighs. Opens the group chat. Ignores de 148 unread messages: Hey, sign me up wherever you need to cover. If it’s after school, I’ll take Chris over.

Chim replies privately before Maddie does in the grupo with a string of thumbs up emojis and a final (probably accidental) rainbow.

He ends up in one of the last “shifts”. Something on the weekend so he can use Chris as an excuse. Like he’d ever need an excuse to drop by Buck’s for a beer. The schedule is so tightly packed that he knows Buck will notice far before it comes to his turn. He gives it four visits, max, before he starts feeling like a child being babysat. Chris would hate it, and he’s a teenager, not a grown man who just spent way too long stuck in a hospital bed.

But Eddie doesn’t get suspicious texts from Buck, complaining about the roaster of visitors, he doesn’t get a call to gossip on whatever excuse Hen used to come over, doesn’t really get much until the knock on the door…

“Please, don’t ask me how I’m doing,” his friend says and walks in. No invitation or excuse presented. They never needed any to barge into each other’s lives like they are the same shared territory.

Eddie watches him walk in, barely repressing the smirk that spreads across his face.

“Want a beer?” He offers, like part of his brain isn’t still processing the fact that Buck is here, alive, that he gets to just offer him a drink like two weeks ago he wasn’t sure he’d never hear his voice outside of his dreams.

“Probably more than one,” Buck huff, already settled in the couch, like he’s always belonged here.

“All that company must have worn you off,” Eddie says with a smirk and even with his back turned on his way to the kitchen, he knows that he can’t hide the petty satisfaction in his voice.

All those visits, all that family, all that attention and fussing and love… but Buck came here. He chose to come here. Eddie feels more than a little vindicated. He feels fucking giddy, actually.

Even when he comes back and Buck is sleeping in his couch, and he’s left hanging with two cold beers and the excitement to share some time with his best friend, the warmth in his chest persists. He sits down, quiet as he can be, and smiles when he hears the first familiar snore. There’ll be time for that. Buck is here, he chose to be here, and they have all the time they need.

[emblemxeno]

Definitive “Feelings On 3H” Post

So I’m making one big post on my feelings on major things worth discussing about 3H and how I feel about it. Don’t feel obligated to really interact with this one much, it’s mostly just for my sake, as something I can just link to and say “go to section X about how I feel about Y”.

The reason behind this is I just don’t really want to actively engage in 3H discourse anymore. I feel as if I’m a broken record at this point. If I have new things to say about it somehow, I’ll say it, but for the most part, I’ll refer people to this if they wanna know how I feel about general 3H talk. 

Story

Story Section 1- General narrative feelings on each route.

Azure Moon is, in my opinion, the most solidly constructed route in terms of writing, character development, and storytelling. It knows what it wants to accomplish and, aside from a few gripes, I will always applaud it for that. Verdant Wind and Silver Snow meanwhile, aren’t bad and I certainly didn’t have a terrible time playing through them. However, the unique story bits in each route don’t justify the gameplay experience you have to work through in order to get to them. Still, the big reveals in each route were nice to hear for the first time, and specifically for VW I enjoy Claude very much. Crimson Flower I don’t enjoy that much at all. Its story is what I can only describe as a static, eye-roll inducing victory march, which makes up for its lack of length with its seemingly intentional negative character development; everyone is ignorant, an asshole, or sad as fuck aside from the CF exlcusive cast. I would give the route props had the game bothered to stand in its foundation rather than flounder and make numerous attempts to depict every perspective as absolutely equally valid and righteous. 

Story Section 2- In trying to appeal to every perspective, the game lacks focus, foundation, and respect for itself.

It should be expected that a game with multiple routes tackle different specific subjects. However, in Fire Emblem, there always, always manages to be a unifying theme or foundational story philosophy-an Aesopian type moral if you will-no matter the route. Alm and Celica learn that their one individual philosophies can’t exist on their own, and that leadership requires strength and compassion of equal measure. Eirika and Ephraim learn that personal wishes must take a backseat for the good of Renais and Magvel as a whole, as their routes in FE8 use their own weaknesses to develop them as leaders and royalty. Corrin’s one constant in the Fates games is that conflict is inherently meaningless and does nothing but perpetuate a brutal cycle of hatred, vengeance, and violence. 

Even in games like FE7 and FE10, where the technical ‘route splits’ are more unconventional, there’s still unifying themes that manage to wrap back around at the end (7′s ‘single-minded pursuit of justice and strength/power to protect can actively hurt you and those around you, especially if you are ignorant to the pain others are going through’ and 10′s ‘people have as much capacity to be good as they have to be evil, they will hurt each other due to petty misunderstandings and bigoted views, however, they are worthy of living as they are because of the ability to grow, change, and aspire to something better’).

3H, to put it simply, does not have any grand unifying theme unique to itself. The closest examples I can think of is ‘It’s worth it to reach out to those around you to share your pain so you don’t become engulfed in it’ and ‘no matter what side you fight for, war makes everyday life a living hell for everyone’.

But to me, both of those things are just... basic truths and story elements present in every dialogue heavy FE game. War has been showcased as being terrible since FE1, where characters were held hostage, threatened to fight for a cause they didn’t believe in, innocent villages were destroyed, there was a literal child slave market, etc. And sharing your pain with those close to you in order to bear life’s challenges has been a constant trope with many FE characters, story significant or otherwise, since at least FE6 with Guninivere (probably earlier if I’m missing something from FE4 or 5). The only difference is that 3H has a fun little song to go with it.

That leaves the specific themes of each route and perspective, but because each leading character is so different from the other, and the writers didn’t want to overtly favor one over the rest, every dialogue regarding these things feels compromised; half baked, or lacking a point. 

‘Crests are symbolic of a harmful power structure but also are a symbol of justice used to ward away threats but also are a tool used to gain social and political capital in order to change the world but also are an ancient power obtained through destruction that must be used with wisdom.’ Four different perspectives from four different routes that the game attempts to depict in a balance in almost every single dialogue regarding them. And this same process is applicable to the game’s attempts at discussing race/ethnicity, xenophobia, classism, religious views, mental health, etc. There always has to be two, three, four, or five sides to every story in 3H, and that results in an exhuasting and stretched thin narrative that, in its attempts to appeal to everyone, ends up lacking substance in every point it tries to make.

Now, that itself would make for a fascinating and meta theme for the game to uphold, where ‘attempts at trying to balance and accept every perspective leads to an ineffective world that desperately needs unwavering, unconditional, and compassionate leadership’ but 1) that would require the game to play up the need for ‘seeing every side’ as something to be deconstructed, and the game doesn’t do that, it’s played painfully straight, and 2) when it’s one major power (Edelgard) vs. three major powers (Dimitri, Claude, and Rhea), the attempt at balance fails no matter what you do. This lack of focus reads to me that there was lack of respect for the game’s story itself.

Story Section 3- “It insists upon itself, Lois.”

Every time I think about the finer details of story bits in 3H I don’t care for, my brain always comes back to that Family Guy scene where Peter talks about not caring for The Godfather and saying that it’s because the movie insists upon itself. Now, that was done for comedy, but for 3H I must say that it’s a perfect sentence to use. 3H insists upon itself. This is in spite of the fact that there’s no one unifying point that it’s trying to convey to the player, beyond what any other FE games was able to do. So to make up for that, each small instance reads like the game beating the player over the head with whatever minute moral or lesson it’s trying to convey.

Crests are bad? Roll out the Edelgard, Sylvain, or Lysithea dialogue saying so. Church is sus? Get Edelgard or occasionally Claude. Nobles are pretentious? Get the sad NPCs or the few actual commoner characters to imply it. War is bad and cruel? Fire the next “Sad Dorothea” dialogue at the player’s face. Interactions feel artificial, ostentatious even. Part of that is because there’s no other way to get these points across due to Byleth being a silent avatar, the other part though? Feels as if the writers were overtly proud of themselves. “Wow, the war means Bernadetta leaves her room more often, isn’t that a sign that it really changes people?” Yeah, no shit. 

Perhaps the most egregious example is the endless instances of the game pushing the idea that there’s “no good side” in war or that “war is a battle of ideals and no one is fully correct” or other moments that want the player to know how deep and Morally Gray the narrative is. It’s cheap and inauthentic, especially when you have a faction like the Slithers. You can’t prop up Gray Morality and have an inarguably evil underground terrorist group. 

To be crude, this game explains things to you like you’re five despite being rated T for teens in a series catered mostly to young adults. I get the point you’re trying to make, you did it poorly, now stop repeating yourself, your final grade is a D+.

Story Section 4- 3H likes spectacle over substance.

3H revels in being showy over being constructive. There’s great moments, but there’s not a great plot. 

For example, Byleth has many flashy moments that show how awesome they are! They’re connected to a goddess, they can wind back time, they have a super cool historical sword, they’re a top tier mercenary, they’re a great teacher, they’re next in line for Archbishop or the throne for all of Fodlan, their Crest is the game’s version of the Fire Emblem!

Cool! What’s the significance behind all these choices in the writing room? Seemingly next to nothing other than it sounded cool. That’s how it feels anyway.

The SotC doesn’t do anything in the story beyond be Sothis’ bones, likewise the Crest of Flames is nothing other than symbolic since it lacks gameplay or story significance beyond “main characters have it”, Divine Pulse has weak narrative justification for what should be a simple gameplay exclusive rewind, the goddess in question is an underutilized character who checks out before part 1 ends, there’s no gameplay basis showcasing that they’re any better at fighting than their students, and every high level position Byleth is granted makes no sense for them to have given what little established character we get.

That’s 3H in a nutshell. Crests don’t matter other than to be a story device. Being noble or commoner doesn’t matter. The hidden technology doesn’t matter. Abyss is a joke. And on and on and on. 3H profits off of being enticing and cool looking for the sake of it, without actually utilizing or explaining any of this flashy stuff that matters for a video game medium. It makes for underwhelming gameplay and artificial characters. Example, for as much as I love Yuri, take a few minutes to read his backstory; it’s batshit and nigh unbelievable. And it’s indicative of the fact that 3H cares more about including things that sound cool than it does about making sense of anything. We see the impact, but never any material significance, which is the opposite of what you want in a detail oriented narrative like this.

Story Section 5- 3H has very gross tropes.

During 3H’s first year of being out, I desperately wanted to stay true to a view that “hey now, just because it’s depicted like this, doesn’t mean we should blast it, it’s just a video game” but, y’know. I grew up. And part of growing up is recognizing the nuanced parts of these kinds of things. 

I won’t accuse the writers of being actively ignorant or bigoted, cuz I don’t know anything about them. But fuck. Fuck, does this game read worse and worse over the years in terms of how utterly terribly it handles sensitive issues.

Multiple brown characters treated like trash by the white/pale majority, with countries said brown characters hail from described as savage and animalistic. Rampant misogynistic tropes, most notably selling women off to be married. Strange, and incessant sympathy for the character starting a war that upends the lives of common people, said character also allowing human experimentation to occur. The offensive and archaic handling of mental illnesses, specifically anxiety disorders, personality disorders, and PTSD in certain instances (IMO only Dimitri and Marianne are done with any sort of grace). And that’s just the explicit stuff! Just the other day I was talking about how there’s incredibly disturbing anti-Semitic undertones regarding the Empire (confirmed to be based on Germany btw) and the Nabateans, something that’s, at times, uncritically repeated by people in this game’s community. This game is mired in terrible allegories and metaphors, which make me cringe the more I think about the real world implications that these lines of thought can have on people in volatile corners of the Internet.

And the kicker is that the writers are so committed to making these things relate to Crests or nobility, as if either of those things are strictly the reason why oppression or discrimination occurs.

The game employs drastic harmful stereotypes, and undercuts all of them by foisting its half-baked unique gameplay/lore toy onto the conversations. It fumbles the ball and didn’t even clean up the mess well.

Characters

I have a tier list of how much I enjoy the characters right here. 

Long story short, when the characters are good, they’re good. Like, holy fuck, love them. But when they’re bad? Throw them away. Can’t stand them. And sometimes characters fall in the middle where I see the good but they’re at times written in ways that piss me off.

Worldbuilding/Setting - More is not always better

First off, when you make a character tell the player “Go read in the library for lore”, you’ve lost me. There’s nothing fun and interesting in 3H as a game for you to read in the library.

Fire Emblem’s gameplay cycle doesn’t mesh too well with the typical JRPG standard of storytelling, so the common solutions to building the world and crafting the stories was 1) make as much use as possible of cutscenes, art/cgs, and narrations to communicate the important details before and after battles and/or 2) make an intuitive inclusion to ‘break the pace’ between maps, such as a home base, in order to supplement what’s already present. Alongside this, support conversations were an ingenious tool to develop the characters and the world at the same time, as your varied and quirky cast can help you infer what their place of origin is like. Plus, the game actively rewards the player for seeking this auxiliary information out, granting extra stat bonuses when you purposefully put characters next to each other.

3H, on paper, understands this well. However, the game has too many minute details for a typical FE game structure to handle. The devs themselves even said the game became a “living creature on its own” and claimed no one on the team knows everything about 3H’s story or world. Ignoring how that’s a serious flaw for a video game narrative, what this ultimately means is that since cutscnes and a standard base can’t cut it, we need more and more and more. Libraries, side quests, tea time, ally notes, gifts, NPCs that exposit at you, etc. The DLC even added another damn library for you to sift through, as if the first one wasn’t a pain already.

And though these little flavor texts, landmarks, and set pieces are fun to read about... that’s it. The game hardly uses any of it. It’s flavor without substance, once again. It’s why half the fucking fandom is confused every other day when you bring up these tertiary details as evidence to prove a point, since the active story is too busy trying to weave the other 600 plot threads together to use any of it. That means, for all of this supposed great details regarding each nation and the important territories, we hardly see a damn thing that’s actually different. More is not always better, and in this case, it’s actively worse for both the game experience and the community experience. Not a good look for a game that the devs explicitly wanted people to talk to each other about.

As a fan of FE ever since 2013, who has gone back to play several of the games to see how they tick, 3H’s methods of describing its setting are just so antithetical to what makes the series enjoyable, and for so little reward. It sounds hypocritical given that I love Fates and Engage, but those games actively set up their glorified bases to be as unintrusive as you want them to be. 3H, however, has its gameplay built around a boring and unintuitive cycle.

Gameplay- Fire Emblem but half the time you’re not playing Fire Emblem

Gameplay Section 1-Monastery

The monastery is the most debated gameplay aspect of 3H, and IMO, for good reason.

It sucks.

Worldbuilding wise, while it makes sense that an important location is the hub for the game, that doesn’t account for how dull it is. 12 months and 4 seasons pass and does the place ever look different? No. A shame, since an improved aesthetic would drastically help ignoring the fact that the place is a bitch to traverse. For as fast as Byleth can run, they can’t outspeed the load times. Quick travel only makes the issue more apparent, as well. From door to door, and from week to week, you’ll endure more load times in one in-game month than an entire playthrough of a GBA FE game.

The other aspects of the monastery gameplay, such as teaching, activities, professor level, and motivation, while freshly fun in a first playthrough, become a repetitive slog in subsequent playthroughs. Giving gifts and lost items, eating meals, planting the right things for the garden, optimizing support point gains, using the sauna, taking care of the statues, etc. This cycle is not something I enjoy in an FE game, and unlike Fates or Engage, I can’t actively ignore it without huge penalty. 

You can skip right to each main mission, but you’d be giving yourself a huge handicap by doing so; not actively teaching students at max motivation in order to maximize skill point gain is a huge detriment in the long term. It means longer wait for better weapons, longer wait for better spells, longer wait for class change, and longer wait for better skills and battalions. Now on Normal you can get away with this, not as much on Hard, and sure the fuck not on Maddening. To me, it feels like sloppy balancing on top of an already exhausting and dull game cycle. Why let the player skip months if you didn’t bother to carefully balance the game so that the players who do skip months could have even a small chance to clear the game? Honestly, it just feels as if they thought “people might find it annoying so let’s just tack on a skip feature”, and that’s disappointing and lazy.

Overall, I hope nothing similar to the monastery’s implementation is included in any future Fire Emblem game. It’s too antithetical to FE’s main gameplay structure, IMO.

Gameplay Section 2-Battles

To be honest, Fire Emblem has never been the pinnacle of balanced gameplay, and frankly I don’t want it to be. It’s a single player game with fun anime sword guys, magic powers, and dragons. So long as it’s not dreadfully easy or overly complicated, I have no qualms about certain classes or characters being better or worse than others.

3H though is a mess. A fun mess, but still a mess. Movement decrease to foot units means you want a mount cuz the game’s maps are big, and the speed penalty for cav classes means you want a wyvern or a pegasus. Physical units do just that (or maybe War Master for Quick Riposte), you get your dancer, have a Stride unit, have your Magic units and warpers where you need them, and congrats! You solved the 3H meta. 

Half-joking, honestly. The game is extremely easy to break, the hardest part is getting to that point (after all, slugging through the monastery is a bigger test of your patience than anything else). Maddening mode, of course, you have be extra careful in the beginning (cuz they probably didn’t play test it cough cough) and utilize your combat arts and gambits effectively, and being extremely conscious of positioning. But, much like Awakening before it, 3H is very easy to snowball. Especially on NG+. That doesn’t mean it’s not fun, but it can get mindless. I don’t personally play that way, but even still, tools such as weapons mostly not being class restricted, Crests, combat arts, gambits, and accessories make the game incredibly simple. It’s a breeze, and only gets harder when certain things are stripped away from you or your debilitated somehow. Again, it’s still fun, because FE is always fun, but challenging? No. Not in a way that I find meaningful, anyway.

The maps themselves? Meh. They look pretty! Lots of small missable details that you wouldn’t see if not for the zoomed in view, that was a neat feature. Not at all useable for actually playing the game, of course, but fun to mess with and to sight see. It does make me resentful, cuz again, we could’ve potentially seen lots of rich, detailed, and varied locations bustling with townsfolk and entering villages to really feel each location. But alas, this is as good as we get.

Anyway, the maps are...fine-ish? Part 1′s maps are seared into my brain, for better and for worse (mostly worse) cuz you have to play them at least 3 different times for all the routes. Prologue through Chapter 5 are either boring, terrible, or both. Chapter 6 is the first map on my most recent playthrough that I say I had fun with in Part 1, then it continues for 7 and 8, then nosedives for 9 and 10, before picking back up for 11 and 12. In short, more than half the story maps for part 1 I find are either unexceptional or plain bad.

Now Part 2? Hunting By Daybreak is atrocious, Garreg Mach defense is pretty fun, Ailell is boring as fuck, Myrddin Bridge and Deirdru are good, Gronder Part 2 ebbs and flows between being awesome and awful, Merceus, Enbarr, and Fhirdiad are okay but tend to drag, Tailtean is alright, Shambhala is hot garbage, CF endgame is pretty fun, AM endgame is okay, VW endgame is awesome, Snow endgame is terrible. I think all routes’ part 2 is better than part 1, but not by much.

All of Cindered Shadows is peak, every map was good IMO.

Paralogue maps I have no opinions on, they are recycled maps with nothing meaningfully interesting about them that I remember aside from Dedue’s, Ashe’s, and Petra’s. 

In short, the battle maps in 3H are okay for FE standards. It’s just pretty fucking insane how many times they get reused, so I got tired of them very quickly.

Fandom

Last but not least, just a shoutout to a very unpleasant community experience. Though it might be the best selling FE game as of now, it comes with the price of having some incredibly disrespectful, vicious, and ignorant fans.

Never have I been witness to or been the target of as much harassment on the internet as I have with certain 3H fans. Entire discord servers made to make fun of groups of people with differing opinions, taking over old blog domains to mock people, deliberately seeking out people who want nothing to do with you just so you can defend your favs, etc. And that’s just on this site! There’s editing wars on TV tropes and the wikis, mods on various sites having to do deleting sprees of 3H discourse, artists being harassed on Twitter, and in general just... inserting yourselves into places and spaces where you were not invited nor encouraged to comment. Some of these people lack basic human deceny, respect, and boundaries, and it’s not cool.

Part of the reason why I’m breaking away from 3H now is because this behavior is something I got wrapped up in too, and I’m deeply ashamed of it. It’s toxic, and not at all something I want associated with one of my favorite video game series anymore. I got real life things to worry about and other games to play.

-

Anyway, that’s pretty much it. All of my general thoughts on 3H, localized on one post. Sayonara, Fodlan Discourse, you won’t be missed. 🤗

[paniniichan]

Ballade of the Lost Child - Wandering / Chapter 1

Characters: Yuzuru, Niki Proofreaders: Aru, Oli, Azu

Yuzuru: Excuse me, sir. Are you alright? You aren’t injured, are you?

Man: I’m safe, but my bag… Damn, it had something important inside…

Yuzuru: …

Shiina-sama. This could be dangerous, so please wait here for now. I will go and chase after that bag thie–

Niki: You thief~! You petty thief~! How dare you steal the stand’s churros along with that bag~!

Yuzuru: Shiina-sama!? P-Please wait a second!?

(What just happened? Before I could even move, Shiina-sama ran off to chase down that bag thief…) 

Ah, this is not good. Shiina-sama’s exceedingly strange behaviour caused my thoughts to cease for a moment.

Although we’re from different agencies, we’ve been placed in the same situation… I cannot risk Shiina-sama being exposed to danger. I must pursue him with haste.

Sir, I will also chase after that bag thief. I will do my best to deal with this situation and return your bag to you. 

Man: You’d do that for me!? Eh? Are you sure!?

Yuzuru: Yes, please leave it to me. 

(Now then. It seems that while I was busy dawdling around, the distance between myself and that bag thief had widened.)

(In order to catch up with and restrain him from here, I might have to take this a bit more seriously.)

(Fufu. I don’t normally have the opportunity to get this serious. It may be imprudent of me, but I’m getting a little excited.)

Don’t think you can successfully escape from my grasp. 

Man: …

Niki: Hey you~! Get back here right now!

Those who play with their food should suffer the absolute worst of the worst!? People like you deserve to be kicked to death by a horse, you hear me~!?¹

Yuzuru: That is an idiom said when a person interferes with another’s love life.  

Niki: Huh? When did you get here, Fushimi-kun? There wasn’t anyone next to me just a moment ago?  

Yuzuru: Fufu. In order to catch up, I decided to get a little serious. 

But let us set that aside. Shiina-sama, it seems like our bag thief is running into a back street.

Niki: Ah, you’re right! I wish he’d just accept the fact he’s going to be arrested already.² 

Yuzuru: Well, this might just be the perfect time for that. Since the main street is heavily crowded, pedestrians are simply in the way and I can’t take any extreme measures.  

But since the back street is devoid of people, it may be favourable for us.  

Shall we settle this in there?

＜Several Minutes Later＞

Bag Thief: Huff! Huff! How long are those guys gonna chase me!?

They’re way too stubbo–uwaah!?

Wh-What the!? Something hit me between my legs and I fell over… Is this a plastic bottle!?

Yuzuru: –Indeed. It was a little impolite, but I threw it to stop you from continuing to run away. 

Additionally, even if it had broken a bone in your leg, I would not have cared at all.

Well, I guess it is an extreme measure, even by today’s standards. 

But since I do have a position I need to protect, I tried to take the gentlest approach I could manage. 

 I humbly request for you to resign to your fate already. You won’t be able to escape anymore–

Bag Thief: Eek…! 

Niki: Ugh~, I’m shivering. Why does it feel five degrees colder in here? Is it because it’s so dark~?

Ah. It looks like he dropped all the bags right when he fell.

All righty, safe and sound ☆

We have successfully recovered the churros you snatched! 

Yuzuru: Shiina-sama, I think your priorities are out of order. Could you please secure the bag instead of those churros?

Man: Huff, huff…! Y-You two!

Yuzuru: –Hm? Ah, you followed us all this way?

It’s dangerous to approach a thief, so I had hoped you’d wait back there.

Niki: Hey sir, we managed to safely recover your churros! And we got your bag too! 

Man: Huff, huff… My bag! I’m sorry for the trouble, thank you very much!

Bag Thief: (Now. I’ll run away while they’re distracted…!) 

Yuzuru: …! Oh no! Stop right there!

Niki: Ngah! He’s running again!

Man: Please wait, you two! It’s alright, you don’t have to chase him anymore!

Yuzuru: …Why did you stop us? While we did return your baggage, he still committed a crime and should be handed over to the police. 

Niki: Yup yup. What he’s saying. 

Man: NO! This is so much more important! (He grabs Yuzuru and Niki’s hands)

Yuzuru and Niki: Eeh!?

Yuzuru:  …What exactly are you doing all of a sudden?

Man: Owowowowowowow!?

Niki: Fushimi-kun, Fushimi-kun. You’re really twisting the poor guy’s arm there.

Yuzuru: Please forgive my impoliteness. He suddenly grabbed our hands as if he was some kind of degenerate. My body simply moved for the sake of self-defence. 

Man: Me, a degenerate!? No, that’s wrong! That’s completely wrong! I’ve never even been a degenerate at all! 

–Please, won’t you two star in my movie!?

Yuzuru and Niki: …What?

Man: I’m sort of like a– huh? Where’d my business card go? Ah, not again! Well, uh, I’m a film director!

I’d like you to star in my film!

Yuzuru: E-Err…?

Man: My intuition is telling me to pick you! You two are high school… no, university students?

First of all, if you could kindly let go of my hand, please.

I’ll sufficiently compensate you for your performance of course! I don’t even mind if you treat it like a part-time job, could you please just collaborate with me on my film!?

Niki: This guy's super freaky!? He’s rattling on and on while leaning forward crazily, I’m getting a little freaked out!? Just what is his deal~?

Yuzuru: Uhm. Could you please take a moment to compose yourself?

Well. Unfortunately, we cannot appear in your film.

Man: Eh, you can’t? I promise I’m not a suspicious individual, and the job is respectable so–

Yuzuru: No. I’m not referring to that. 

The two of us are idols belonging to production offices. For that reason, any discussion of work must go through the appropriate processes with ES. Man: Idols…?

-----

¹ As Yuzuru mentions in the following line, “being kicked by a horse” is a Japanese expression used for people who interfere with others’ love lives.

² The expression Niki uses here (観念してお縄) can be exactly translated as “resign yourself to the policeman’s rope”. It basically refers to the art of restaining a person with a rope or cord, but also can refer to arresting.

[rataticaisdreaming]

day 2 - fusion @intrualityweek

Summary: When Remus and Patton can’t stop fighting, the mind decides to give them a chance to be in each other's shoes.

Pairing: Platonic Intruality (he/him for both)

Word Count: 1397

Warnings: Verbal fights / Hurt/Comfort / Intrusive thoughts / Remus being Remus / Cursing / Mention of sex

“Those are awful things, Remus! You should think of more cheerful… innocent stuff!"

"Oh yeah, because everyone wants to live in Care-A-Lot, daddy-o."

It has been like this for weeks now. Patton getting more and more distressed at Remus’ outbursts, which have been more common ever since the last major issue Thomas faced. Their fights seemed personal and within their own bubble, seeing as they were right next to each other. Janus and Roman had no problem ignoring them, it was so childish and unnecessary that not even Virgil was affected by this. It was getting annoying though. Once everyone left those two to bicker alone, Patton frowned and sank down to his room. The duke was so unsettling! It wasn't so difficult to keep your thoughts to yourself and keep things nice and decent.

Throwing himself to the stuffie filled couch, he reached for an old blanket and his Tender Heart teddy bear. A wave of sadness filled him, tears silently fell from his cheeks into the blanket he was holding so close. Everything felt like too much.

He hated arguments so much. The loud voices and negative feelings made him feel so small and overwhelmed. The need to just get out, get out, get out. How he closed his eyes and just prayed the tears wouldn't come out, this is not the time for big emotions. He just wanted to hide and make the feelings go away.

━

Well, fuck him. There he goes again with his big mouth and inability to just shut the fuck up!

No one wants to hear you anyways.

He is trying! He really is! Just spit out the mild ones so his head guts will be at ease until he comes back to his room. That’s exactly what he did… then why was today so difficult?!

You were never meant to be one of them.

And why the fuck is his brain not shutting the fuck up?! He just wanted some rest for God's sake.

You should impale yourself with the bed's wooden poles. 

Just get in a onesie, what if you get tangled up and suffocate?

Get in bed and under the blankets, you should have hate sex with the others.

Hug your emotional support octopus stuffie and feel them hug you back… oh, the ways they could crush you to death.

Just close your eyes… It will be okay in the morning.

Except it won't be. It will be this over, and over, and over again until you die. Alone and in pain and no one will care about you…

━

"We need Patton. It's clear to me this issue needs his emotional expertise."

A quick hand gesture is all Logan needed to make the moral side rise in his spot. Eyes shut tight and in clear distress, softly bouncing on his heels.

"Sorry kiddo, your old man just needed a little rest. Felt more tired than a hooker after an orgy."

What… in the world?

The room falls silent and everyone is suddenly looking at him. Roman and Virgil look at each other stunned, eyes so big they seem ready to pop out. Janus scoffs in disbelief, like he finally heard how much of a petty bitch he is. Logan adjusts his tie, looking down at the floor, maybe he’ll find his worth somewhere in the dust. Thomas looks like he just saw a puppy being shot in front of him. 

Wow, this little mind of his is not slowing down, is it?

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I didn't know why I said that… must be reaaally out of it! Maybe I just need some coffee and breakfast to get myself back on track." he said, awkwardly tiptoeing his way to the kitchen.

No one knew how to react to what just happened, so Roman spoke first.

“Maybe all that time with my brother is messing with him, speaking of him.” he said as he summoned Remus with an annoyed frown “Where is my copy of Princess and the Frog?”

Remus rose in his spot and stared at his twin like a deer in headlights, after a few seconds, he answered.

“I'm pretty sure I placed it back on the shelf.” he said, timidly hugging himself.

“Well, it's not there!”

The escalating tone made Remus flinch and look away, that seemed to be the wrong thing, because Roman spoke again.

“I swear in the holy name of Julie Andrews, Remus, if you did something to it…"

"I promise I didn't! I- I'm sure I placed it on the shelf, maybe I can help you find it! Just… Please lower your tone." 

Roman was taken back by his response, his brother looked on the verge of tears. He has never seen the duke express himself like that. Weirded out was an understatement,

Before he could say anything, Patton came back and…

"Well, I can safely say the dishwasher liquid does not, in fact, taste like lemon and oranges."

Something was wrong.

━

"You will not leave this couch until you figure out what happened, do I make myself clear?"

It had been ten minutes since Logan left them there. Ten full minutes of distressed bouncing on his seat, eyes shut as he tried his hardest not to voice his thoughts. After what felt like an hour, Patton couldn’t take it anymore.

"Remus, all these thoughts… are they yours?" he said in a small voice Remus barely heard. "They are horrible…"

“I know they are!” he yelled, causing Patton to flinch. Upon seeing the reaction, the creative side broke down.

"I hate all of this! It all feels like too much!”

Patton’s knowing smile made him feel warm and troubled. A question popped into his head. He scooched over a little bit and started to fidget with his sparkly sleeves.

“Do you feel like this all the time?"

Patton looked up and sighed.

"Mhm" 

"Do you get these thoughts all the time?"

Remus looked up with slightly red eyes.

"Yeah…"

"I never realized how much pain you were actually in… I thought you said those things to annoy us…" he started, receiving a soft laugh from the duke "But they are like a swarm! I need- I need them out!"

“Shh, it's okay. They will calm down, here, tug this string."

The moral side did with a tired hand, when he let go, a soft “quack” came out of nowhere. A tiny duck dropped from the air into his lap.

"Heh… And where did this little guy come from?"

“Little gift.”

A small giggle escaped from Patton’s lips and he changed his posture, visibly calmer and less tense. After working some courage, Remus decided to speak as well.

"I never knew you were feeling this much… It's suffocating. Every emotion feels fucking intense and it hurts! How do you live like this?"

"I just do… Comes with being the heart, I guess. My room helps me, it calms me down when it gets too much."

"Huh. Do you think I could… hang out there sometime?"

"Sure! Janus and Logan have been very insisting on the whole "finding a distraction" thing. We could do a puzzle together or watch a show."

"Yeah… I'd like that."

━

It has been like this for weeks now. Remus learning to use his inner voice, mindful of how loud noises impact the other’s emotions. Patton started to listen to Remus' ideas and ignored the ones that were plainly intrusive thoughts.

By the end of an afternoon discussion, they were already looking at each other in anticipation.

They sank down and arrived at Patton's living room. There was an unfinished puzzle on the coffee table as well as board game boxes laying on the side of it. Remus picked the neon green notebook and glitter pen and sat down next to the moral side.

They summoned popcorn, sodas and m&ms. Even some lemon slices for Remus. Whenever he got unwanted thoughts, he would write them down. Patton would hug his teddy bear, as a silent sign that they needed to slow down for a bit, when the emotions got too intense.

It was working for them. They also made a mental note to never anger the mind again. It would be fantastic to see Roman get all of Virgil's anxiety, but Remus was a good brother and decided to write that thought down for now.

[ropebuny]

Aren't the tags just to escape being flagged so easily?

yes. I have two main issues with this however

first of all, I understand why people resort to censored tags and I fully blame the people who put these rules in place, tumblr and youtube and especially tiktok who normalised it to the point that I never hear people saying ‘died’ or ‘murdered’ or ‘killed themselves’ but I instead hear ‘unalived’ which makes it sound so stupid and unserious. so I understand why people go to these lengths to censor words in order to not have their content be flagged. but it just makes it sound so stupid and unserious and just so. otherwordly. I can’t believe we have to do this, I can’t believe we have to censor WORDS of all things. I can’t believe I watch a youtube video regarding a crime and I hear a sentence like ‘the…… (the person talking about the crime stops talking and instead mouths the word ‘killer’ and the word is written on screen because they aren’t allowed to say it out loud in fear of being flagged and having youtube demonitise them)….. and then they unalived them and sa-ed them afterwards’ and it’s just seen as normal. it’s almost dystopian in a way to me. I’ve also heard that apparently students have been caught writing ‘unalived’ in their papers instead of words like died, murdered, etc… which makes me believe the world is coming to an end very very soon

and also. unfortunately code speak is very very popular in pedo communities on kinkblr. pedos LOVE using tags like ‘1cky d4ddy 1cky d4ught3r r4p3 fantasy’ etc… they use tags such as ‘t333n p3d0 bait p3rv bait’ and whatever else. and knowing that, seeing it become so normalised on tumblr to have to censor kinky content to appeal to community guidelines unfortunately invites pedos because they always lurk in these cryptic censored tags to bypass the system and not be caught as easily. also why they use symbols like 🍕 and 🧀 and 🍈 and it just reminds me of that. it makes me feel gross whenever I see posts with heavy censorship with numbers in because I know those are tags commonly infiltrated by pedos. hence my tag on my previous post being ‘you look like a pedophile’ for using these tags. it just leaves a bad taste in my mouth in general

and also. an incoming third and petty reason. it’s kinda cringey unfortunately

like having to censor these kink tags makes it seem like we are doing something bad. something irredeemable, hence why we need to censor these bad bad words… like oh no we can’t POSSIBLY be caught posting about ‘cnc kink’ or ‘daddy daughter’ or whatever…… we MUST censor these horrible horrible words. like. it’s just so stupid all around and I hate it so much and I hate feeling like I’m doing something so so horrible and horrendous for simply partaking in a kink and tagging it and going through tags of said kink. and same goes for people trying to talk about a crime, they’re not doing anything bad so why must we censor words like ‘died’ and say ‘unalived’ instead. or why must we say ‘sa’ and not ‘sexual assault’ or ‘sh’ instead of ‘self harm’ ?????,??? why is simply talking about something so openly considered SO controversial to it needing to be censored. like it’s not the 1550s

I wish we could just. say words. and not be punished for it. instead of having to go to these silly lengths in order for our content to be shown. it’s ridiculous and I hate it all around and I hate feeling shamed for simply wanting to say or look up a specific, NORMAL, every-day word (e.g. you can’t even say certain ‘bad’ words in youtube comment sections because your comment gets deleted, like ‘sexual assault’ or whatever). and regarding the kink community and censorship, I hate feeling shamed for being into a kink and feeling the need to have to censor it because it’s gross or a bad word or whatever and feeling like I’m participating in some unlawful activity by just being horny. and I also fucking HATE feeling like I’m sharing a community with pedos by having us censor kinky tags and words in general with numbers in such a cryptic way like they do as well

[oh-surprise-its-me]

Roy/Jamie prompt: Roy and Jamie hit the mother of all rough patches. They are constantly at each other’s and it all started over something mundane and stupid. Plenty of angst but also hilarious pettiness ensue between the two dumb dumbs. Until it all comes to a head in the form of this massive nuclear argument where they say all manner of insulting things but that somehow culminates in the two of them tearfully declaring their undying love for each other and making up. They are it for each other and fighting over stupid shit is gonna inevitably be part of it.

heheheheheheh

(I think they could normally talk it through but this was a great time)

Jamie was over it. If he finds one more goddamn fucking towel not on the heater he’s going to strangle Roy.

“Roy did your hands magically break or fucking fall off in the last twenty minutes?? Because if not you’d better have a fucking fabulous plan explanation for the towels being cold again.”

Jamie hears Roy let out a laugh. He throws the towel on the floor going back into their bedroom.

“Jamie pick it up it’s going to mold”

“Fuck off Roy not now.”

Roy snaps his book closed, he sets it on the bed and sits on the edge. “Christ are you as much of a child as I feared? Just pick it up Jamie.”

Jamie spins from where he was pulling on sweats, he points a finger at Roy. “And you must be as old and fucking deaf as I feared because you can’t ever hear me when I say to heat the towels.”

“Jamie don’t start I’m not in the mood.”

“You’re not in the mood? Roy I don’t care it’s fucking annoying.”

Roy stands up, he grabs his phone and headphones from the side table. “Going out I don’t want to fight this with you.”

Jamie side steps into the door frame, “no we gotta talk about it, you refuse to talk about this kinda thing Roy.”

“Fucking Christ Jamie maybe because it feels like I’m talking with a therapist and not my goddamn boyfriend.”

Jamie blinks, okay ouch that one hurt. Fine. Roy goes low he’ll go lower.

He taps Roy’s chest. “If you actually went to those therapy sessions maybe I’d feel like your boyfriend and wouldn’t have to quote my therapist to you.”

Roy rolls his eyes. “Christ fine I’ll make the appointment. Get off about it.”

“God Roy I complained about the therapy because I love you and I love us. I want us to work. I can’t do it all.”

Jamie slouches against the door. He’s so tired. He feels tears start. Christ no he can’t cry now.

Roy steps forward. He touches Jamie’s shoulder, “hey no I’m sorry you’re right. I should work on stuff. Not take it out on you.”

Jamie sniffs. Roy reaches out and brushes the tear that managed to escape, Jamie does what his therapist calls a distraction tactic.

He punches Roy’s shoulder.

A bit childish but sue him.

“Ow Jamie what was that for??”

“Making me cry.”

Roy flushes. He pulls Jamie into a hug. “I love you stupid. I’m sorry.”

“Jamie you did not just fucking quote hit the floor at me.”

Jamie pulls away with a laugh. He holds Roy’s face, “you bet I did.”

“I love you too Jamie. Don’t doubt that ever. I’m a prick but I love you. I’m always going to choose you.”

Jamie shoves Roy back to the bed. “I’m gonna pick you too stupid. You’ve just gotta remember that.”

Roy lands on his back with Jamie in his lap.

They both know it’ll be fine. Literally the night before they were talking about suit colors for a imaginary wedding.

They love each other, it’ll be fine.

[archivalofsins]

This is proably going to be rude and petty as hell. Hence why it's not going in the tag but-

I love how some of the reaction to the information from Deep Cover has been people just want to frame her in a bad light without considering or even attempting to analyze the reasons behind her behavior. As though these same individuals weren't literally just harassing people for analyzing her character in ways they did not like.

Yet, now, they're asking for people to analyze her more to find out what?

What people were able to fucking discern from her previous statements regarding children before she just blatantly said she jumps kids?

20/06/18 Amane: Thank you very much for teaching me. ……but, though I realise it’s strange me saying this after I asked you, I must admit it’s kind of unexpected. You give off the impression of someone who wouldn’t want to get involved in things like this. Kotoko: ……well, you’re not wrong. I’m surrounded by people who could all be murderers, so I don’t plan on going out of my way to talk and make friends. I can’t let my guard down. But I like ambitious people like you. If you want to study more, then I’m happy to teach. Amane: I see…… You look scary at first impression, but I quite like the way you treat everyone equally regardless of whether they’re older or younger than you. You don’t just treat me like a child or anything like that. Kotoko: Treat you like a child? Hah, you’ve got to be kidding. Back when I was your age, I was already the person I am today. I don’t have any plans to let you get away with something just “because you’re a child.” ……remember that. There, I’ve finished marking. 83%. How do I put it… Even though you act like this, it’s not like you’re super brilliant at studying or anything, huh.

The fuck- How does that make any sense? What are people supposed to analyze? Shit that isn't there?

I can look at a cube for several hours but that's not going to make it a sphere.

Get the fuck out of here. Like no it is not okay to go crying about nuance now when it's convenient to a character you like while ignoring it in Amane's case. All while people who do take the time to analyze these things and take them seriously get continually harrassed for doing so in ways that frame prisoners too negatively. Yet, now that the negative part has been blurted out for all to see we need analysis.

No, people just need someone to find a reason why she's still redeemable. As I've been saying and will continue to say if your forgiveness is contingent upon someone being a good person who you can morally agree with that is not forgives that is just an agreement. That is just a deal.

By forgiving for that reason one is going I expect this other person to behave in ways that will be pleasing to me so I think what they did is fine. Something that only leaves room for disappointment when that person does not turn out to be as moral as one believed them to be.

Add to this that others have been continually harassing people within this community that theorize about characters in a way they personally don't find appealing or see as framing them too negatively. Like yeah no one wants to analyze her. Yeah people are happy she just went on her voice drama and said the quiet part out loud again for the people in the back that didn't hear her when she said it in 2020.

That ship has sailed it's left the harbor because-

"Kotoko isn't a real person, she doesn't actually have thoughts and feelings. Come on; it's not as serious as you're making it. Of course, she's going to be reduced to being violent when she acts violent. She's just two dimensional after all. I mean did you hear her in Mikoto's voice drama when she attacked him? Did you hear her new voice drama?! Or see what happened to the prisoners she admits to attacking during the intermission-"

"Amane aside she even threatened Mikoto and Kazui too."

22/08/05 (Kazui’s Birthday) Kotoko: ……Mukuhara Kazui. Thanks to you, I wasn’t able to properly serve justice to those who did something unforgivable. I’m currently acting as an agent for our prison guard Es. Don’t get in my way next time. Kazui: Oi oi, don’t be silly, Yuzuriha-chan. There’s no way I could just look away from your outrageous display of violence. Anyway, even disregarding the fact violence against those voted guilty isn’t a part of Milgram’s system, what you’re doing is just acting recklessly based on a broad interpretation. As long as I’m free myself, I’ll stop you. Kotoko: ……what a pointless argument. Hmph. Since Es forgives you, I have no choice but to forgive you myself too. If you're to keep to your word, then you’d best do what you can to keep being forgiven. If you’re not, then next time you’ll be one of my targets. Kazui: Oh, how scary. That girl truly is frightening. ……well then, I wonder what the guard will decide to do with me. That’s the one thing I really can’t make out. Honestly…… 22/12/15 (Kotoko’s Birthday) Mikoto: Ah, Koto-chan. It’s been a while. Both of us have kinda split off from the group, but how’ve things been? A lot’s happened, but fr now let’s try to get along. I mean, it’s your birthday today, right? I got the feeling nobody else was going to do anything, so I came to celebrate. Kotoko: ……how carefree. It doesn’t matter, a villain like you won’t be forgiven next time either. And when that time comes, it’ll be the end for you. I’ll make sure of it myself. Mikoto: Ahh?? Just try and do it, you nutjob. I’ll crush anyone who hurts me…… You’re gonna be totally beaten at your own game……![TN: The word “me” here uses first person pronoun “boku”.] Kotoko: Hm. The border between the two is getting a lot vaguer. Your entire existence is a crime. And I will see you’re punished for it. That is what Milgram, and Es, and I have chosen.

"I mean she's even heavily armed."

"We've gotta think about safety- Right~?"

People should keep the energy they gave in mind before it gets returned to sender.

I don't want to see anyone asking for nuance now that was behaving the way I saw before when it came to other trials. It's not that serious it's all in good fun, my verdict doesn't say anything about me, keep that energy. Then on top of that don't expect people you've consistently met with hostility and disrespect to make your case for you when you need it.

Just because it would be helpful for the characters you favor. Literally no one wants to analyze her because some people within this fandom have made analyzing Milgram feel like a wholly unsafe thing to do. The people who like Kotoko's character regardless of her flaws have something that none of the others who favored the prisoners before this point did-

A full month before her music video releases and her trial starts to figure out how to explain this behavior. I say let them figure it out. However, people claiming no one wants to look at Kotoko's situation with nuance are either being disingenious or haven't seen the constant bullshit people who analyze these characters actually go through.

For people like that I only have one thing to say,

Do it yourselves then. It's a lot of work, it's thankless, but analyzing things is fun. Exploring the media one enjoys and figuring out why they enjoy it is fulfilling. Not only that it's something anyone can do. Be the nuance you want to see instead of complaining about people not giving you the answers you want to hear.

Because again I can look at a cube for several hours but that is not going to make it a sphere.

[helenofsimblr]

Bob: I didn’t say that. But you stayed out late, and you didn’t contact me and update me. I’ve been down this road before, Elita. With Judith, the lies, the sneaking about and she was out there hurting people.

Elita: You think I’m like her!? You think I’m going to hurt people, suck them dry!?

Bob: No… I… I don’t believe that Elita. I… I’m not… accusing you, and I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I’m scared history is going to repeat.

Elita: My father stammered over his words, with hindsight I know what he meant. He had, he thought, a 50% vampire hybrid super soldier teen daughter who was literally sneaking about. I did stay out late with Ambrose and I did not report in. BUT, I didn’t hurt anybody and neither did Ambrose. But dad had seen all this before, and he was afraid, so I get it. 

Elita: I knew it! Another monster daughter for you to worry about! Well don’t worry because I’ll pack my shit and…

Bob: That’s enough. You’re not going anywhere. We won’t lose you like we did Judith, you’re not her. Judith was petty, selfish, and vain, and you’re none of those things. But Elita, I can’t have you lie to me honey. If you want to have my total trust, I have to have the truth from you.

****

Elita: Honesty, is the best policy. I told my dad the truth, with but one slight omission…

Elita: I was at the ruined church in Mag Heights, some of the kids at school set it up as a party place. I was told about it, and decided to go to try and make a friend, and fit in. I didn’t report in because I lost track of time, because… I met a guy there.

Bob: “A guy?” Do you know him from school? What kind of age was he?

Elita: He was a spot older than me, he’s a Senior I guess… and we went for a cheeseburger, well, he wasn’t hungry, but I ate. We got to talking, I lost track of time and ran home. NOTHING happened between us. I swear.

Bob: Thank you honey, I appreciate that. I want you to feel comfortable here and be able to come and go as you please, but I need you, Guy, John, and Lyra to all bear in mind… we are not normals. For us there has to be rules. For our safety and the safety of others. It’s unfair, it’s not right, but it’s how it must be.

Elita: I understand.

****

Bob: Come here!

Elita: My dad grabbed me in a hug. And I leaned my head on his chest as he held me tight. 

Bob: I am so proud of you, and I love you very much. Never forget those two things Elita. 

Elita: Thanks dad, I love you too. Sorry I didn’t tell you. 

Bob: Water under the bridge sweetheart. You being here has enriched all our lives, and we’d never be without you. We might not always agree, and that’s ok, because this is your home, with me and Lyra and you never have to feel like you don’t belong here. This is where you belong, with us.

Elita *quietly*: Ok, thank-you.

Bob: Good, now get your ass up to bed. You haven’t slept in 3 nights. Go go go! 

Elita: My own insecurities at that age manifested from time to time, hearing my father reaffirm his commitment and love to me, was just what I needed. I also did need sleep, so bed is where I went.

[waterfallofspace]

Can I send you three different asks? No obligation to fill any, but if one strikes your fancy by all means go for it. So, um, here are the numbers for S/oukoku. 52/53 and/or 77?

Hello!! Thank you for the ask, and yes ofc, the more the merrier, I'm THRILLED to receive asks, especially requests because it means someone enjoys my writing!!

I've seen the rest, and I intend to fill them all, but for now I will start with this one and work my way through them! Thank you again, it feels like an honour to receive a request from you, I hope I can do it justice!! 1.9k words, prompts 52, 53, and 77, story under the cut! 52: “Did you just sneeze?” 53: “Bless you?” 77: Pinching the other’s nose before they can sneeze. (References to mild violence and swearing, in case anyone doesn't like those!)

~~~~~~~

The meeting has only been going for about 30 minutes and three death threats have already been thrown around. Chuuya sits with his feet on the table, hat slightly covering his eyes as he attempts to quell the rising headache that being in Dazai’s presence always seems to bring. ‘The idiot has been quieter then normal this meeting, but even just that stupid look on his face- god it drives me insane.’

“-And so, we must work together? I don’t see any reason the Port Mafia should be involved in this, this petty squabble between you and these ‘assassins’ you claim to have annoyed.”

“Don’t be moronic, should this turn into a full fledged war, the Port Mafia would be losing as much as we would. Our organization-”

Chuuya tunes out again, his attention briefly, against his will, slipping back over to Dazai. At first annoyance floods his mind, but it’s quickly replaced by something else as he watches the man shudder. A hand raises to his face, and another shudder runs through him. ‘Well this is certainly an interesting development…’ Keeping his tone low, wanting to ensure his theory before acting on it, Chuuya nudges Dazai.

“What’s wrong with you, bandage waste?”

A cheshire smile meets him, one Chuuya is quite familiar with, and yet… has never lost its disturbing nature.

“Nothing at all, but how sweet of you to worry about me Chuuya~! I can rest easy knowing if something were the matter, you would have my back!”

Letting out a huff, Chuuya starts to turn back to the meeting, almost missing the watery desperation filling Dazai’s whiskey eyes. Almost. At the next cluster of deep shudders, Chuuya acts, ready for a little entertainment to distract from all the arguing of the bosses.

“Did you just sneeze, Dazai?”

The glare he’s met with is instinctual, ‘I’m not even sure he knows he did it.’ and is quickly replaced by the usual carefree mask. All eyes in the room turn to the man, his nose pinched hard between his fingers as he seems to weigh his options in the span of seconds.

“I did actually, seems something’s- heH’YESHHH’oo-! huh’AYYIESSHH’oo-!” 

Chuuya bites his tongue against the yelp that forms, trying in vain to play him almost falling off his chair as intentional. ‘Goddamn shitty Dazai, that was on purpose to scare me, and damn myself for letting it work.’

“Bless you, Dazai!”

Kenji speaks up, Chuuya not missing the way his comment sends chills down Dazai’s spine. ‘Try as you might, you can’t hide this now. What’s your next move gonna be, Dazai?’ Although, just to himself, Chuuya allows his mind to wander, eyes scanning the room. 

‘Something’s making him sneeze, but I don’t think any of the usual culprits are to blame here. If anyone had dog fur on them Mori would be sneezing too, and the pollen count isn’t that high, plus if he was sick he just wouldn’t have shown up. No, he walked into this meeting not knowing this was coming, so it’s something he couldn’t have predicted…’ 

“hEH’TISHHHEWWW-! hahh-! hAH’AIIISHH’uuu-!”

“Bless you again, Dazai!”

The laugh he lets out sounds natural to most, but Chuuya can hear the strangled nature just below the surface. His eyes trace over Dazai’s face, seeing the tint of red forming on his ears, the way his eyes seem narrowed and watery, and finally the twitching nature of his nose. ‘He’s embarrassed, but more than that… he’s far from finished.’ Chuuya’s proven right as Dazai brings a hand to scrub at his nose with just a touch more force then Chuuya feels comfortable with. 

“Forgive me for the interruption, we were talking about how the Port Mafia is to blame for setting the assassins into motion, weren’t we?”

It’s phrased as an innocent continuation, but Chuuya sees it for what it really is. A ploy to get the bosses fighting once more, and it works exactly how Dazai knew it would. Immediately Mori stands up, and Fukuzawa matches him, both staring each other down. Kenji and Gin turn their attention to the bosses, leaving only Chuuya watching the trainwreck sitting across from him. 

“hhH’MMPFFSHH’uhhh-! aHH’MMMSHHH’huhh-!” 

Despite being smothered into his coat, they’re not stifled, and Chuuya can feel the frustration resonating from the man.

“Bless you again, Dazai!”

It’s dripping with sincerity that seems to burn Dazai on impact, a hiss escaping his teeth before he can stop it, which he quickly covers with a laugh and a smile. ‘You can fool them, but you can’t fool me. You’re desperate to get out of here as soon as possible.’

“If you’ll excuse me, I think I need a hint of fresh air.” 

The excuse isn’t needed, no one but Chuuya is paying attention anymore, Kenji having stood up to hear better as Fukuzawa and Mori raised their voices even louder. Chuuya’s eyes track Dazai’s rapid movements as he attempts to glide out of the room, nearly running into a wall as he whips around to stifle another sneeze into his shoulder.

“KNNGT-!”

‘Just the one, that must be driving him insane. The other will follow soon enough.’ Chuuya hums lightly, using his gravity to make his footsteps practically nonexistent as he follows Dazai out into the hallway. He watches him duck into a door leading to what he can only assume is an empty room. Following suit, he squeezes himself into the- ‘Oh for fucks sake, a damn closet? Damn it Dazai, even unintentionally you’re a pain in my ass.’

“Chu- What a- are- heH-!”

The panic slipping past his mask is enough to get a smirk painted across Chuuya’s face.

“You didn’t see this coming? Wow, you must be out of it if you can’t even manage such simple predi-”

“hEH’AIISHH’OO-! IZZSHHHUEE-! mMTISHHHEEEWW-! hahh’KNNGT’CHOO-!”

“Christ, Dazai, you’re reall-”

“hehh’INGGT’choo-! hePT’KNGT’choo-! EZZZshh’oo-! heH’aiiiZZSHH’uu-!”

“Are- are you gonna stop anytime soo-”

“hEH’NNGT-! enngt-knxxgt-DTNNGT’choo-! heh’eTSH’uee-! tISHH’uiee-!”

Chuuya can’t help but wince, the nasal quality of the sneezes increasing as the space between them decreases. Dazai’s watery eyes meet his for a second before crushing shut as he raises his hand to his face for another bout that leaves even Chuuya breathless.

“iSHH-ZZSHH-AIESHH-DASSSHH’iiee-! heH’IZZSHH’uiee-! knNT’sheew-! AIIYISHH’oo-EHZZSHH’oo-! eHH-! hEDT- guhhh Ch- Chuuya… wh- what are you doi… doing…”

Staring right back at the watery gaze, Chuuya tries to form an answer, but honestly he hadn’t put that much thought into it. All he had known was Dazai needed to stop so he could breathe, and well… his gloved hand just sorta found its way to his face where it now sits, pinching his nose shut.

“I- y- you need to stop.”

“Ch- Chuuya… I have… I- I gotta… it tic- tickles… hehh-!”

“I know, shit-for-brains, but you gotta breathe before you pass out. I don’t want to explain to the bosses the reason I’m carrying you is because you sneezed yourself into a fucking coma.”

Dazai manages to smirk from behind the teary expression, his nose still twitching against Chuuya’s fingers.

“Is Chuuya enjoying the power he holds, along with my nose?”

A yelp escapes before Chuuya can stop it, a growl right on it’s heels, and he drops Dazai’s nose. The blush that dares to start along his cheeks is quickly suppressed as he watches Dazai’s eyes roll back in his head, nose twitching violently.

“Hahh…. Hehhh… heH-! Achhoo-!”

Its the fakest sounding thing Chuuya has ever heard, no volume or desperation at all, too breathy to be an actual sneeze, and yet…

“Bless you?”

“N- No I… I still… I can’t… Chuuyaaa~!”

“Christ Dazai, fine.”

With that, Chuuya raises a gloved finger, and lets the fabric softly run against the bridge of Dazai’s nose, adding a flick at the tip. The result is instant, Dazai only having enough time to bury his face into Chuuya’s chest to muffle the onslaught.

“hH’MMFFSHHH’uu-! nnNNSHHH’oo-! hAH’AIISHH’choo-! hehH’ISHH’chuuu-! ehh… iHH-! iHH’TSHHH’chhuuuuya-! iZZSHH’chhhuuuya-!” 

“Not funny, dumbass.” 

Chuuya growls, raising a fist to hit Dazai’s arm with enough force to get a muffle groan from the man, before he ducks back into Chuuya’s chest for the remainder of the fit.

“uHH’MMMFSSHH’IEE-! NNGSHHH’IEE-! Wheew~ Thank you Chibi, that hitching had me in agony, I couldn’t stand it!” 

“Oh shut up, I just didn’t want to have to watch your pathetic face anymore, that’s all. And you’re having this dry cleaned!”

Dazai’s eyes meet his, venom soaking his words as he lets the raw quality of his voice shine through.

“I think I’m allergic to Mori’s new cologne.”

The words have the intended effect, Chuuya feeling his face pale a touch. Dazai just smirks in response, raising a fist to rub at his nose.

“W- what?”

“A gift from you I assume? It’s too high quality for him to have bought it. While he does dress well, and carry himself quite formally, when it comes to the finer things in life, he doesn’t have such expensive tastes.”

Chuuya growls, letting just a hint of sincerity escape as he offers,

“It’s not like I knew you were so sensitive to it…”

There’s a look in Dazai’s gaze that Chuuya can only classify as hungry as the man lets his form draw nearer to Chuuya’s body. They stand that way for a minute, breath close enough to touch the other’s face, a lust starting to pool in their eyes, before Dazai lets himself slip back, mask dipping back over his face. He smirks, waving a hand casually in the air.

“It’s not that big of a deal. Plus~ I got to see Chuuya jump! My my, I didn’t realize you were so easily startled Chibi! Reminds me of a cat, or rather, a kitten. Much like your size does~!”

He can’t move fast enough to avoid the kick aimed straight for his chest as Chuuya growls, knocking Dazai back into the shelf behind him. It’s only after a cloud of dust raises from where Dazai crouches on the ground does Chuuya realize his mistake. ‘Shit- was that his plan the wh- whoole… t- time… hehh…!’ 

“Uh-uh-uh!”

Chuuya manages to pry his eyes open at the feeling of skin against his face, breath catching in a gasp at the sight before him. Dazai stands, mere inches from his face, fingers firmly pinching his nose.

“Eh?! What the fuck are yo- huhh… you doing?! Le- lehhht…. hAHH-! Let go of me!” 

“Fair is fair, Chuuya. Eye for an eye, nose for a nose~.”

All Chuuya can manage in response is a grunt, hissing as Dazai moves slightly, the tickle elevating to new highs. His eyes flutter shut once more, the hitching threatening to turn into sneezes on every breath, only Dazai’s grip prolongs it.

And yet, Chuuya makes no effort to remove his fingers. They both know he could, and he’s entirely aware that Dazai’s watching him carefully, but he doesn’t make a move. Instead, he lets his head tilt back, tears starting to form in his eyes. 

He manages to get his eyes to flutter open long enough to witness Dazai’s smirk, before the man lets his lips almost brush Chuuya’s ear, whispering two words that get Chuuya’s blood boiling.

“Bless you.” 

With that, Dazai lets go, hand returning to scrub at his own nose as it twitches yet again. He pauses at the doorway, letting his head hang slightly back to witness the results of his little experiment. Chuuya, however, notices none of this, stuck instead in a fit that seems set on revenge for being denied so long.

“kesschh’oo-! eschhh’oo-! asshhh’iew-! dnggt-! heh’iSHH’iew-! hih’tishh’iew-!”

“I was right! Just like a cat. Adorable as ever, Chuuya~.”

He easily dodges the punch Chuuya throws, ‘Damnit, ca- ishh’oo-! Can’t see straight throu- esschh’oo-! Through the sneezing-��� giving a wave over his shoulder as he descends down the stairs. Chuuya can’t help but smile as he hears a “IZZSHH’uuee-! Christ.” echo out from the stairwell.

‘Never a dull moment with you. Until we meet again, partner.’ 

[acknowledgetheabsurd]

Alone! I am alone in my bed and I really feel better this way tonight. I told Pitou that I needed to be alone. The day went better than the previous ones. I think that the big crisis is over. Now it's the turn of the dull pain of each day. I have not yet regained a taste for life, but for that I think I'll have to wait for your return. Finally, I passed the most dangerous course; it is what was most urgent and most difficult to achieve. The rest, we'll see. Last night, I was really afraid to give up. I had a fever, everything was spinning, and when I got home I couldn't say the words or carry out the gestures. Physically, I was afraid, I forced myself to eat and with fatigue I slept a heavy sleep for ten hours at a time. 

This morning, I arranged the room and various things of dad. At noon, Dom Juan and Feli [Negrín] came to take me to lunch. They were, as always, wonderful and I always admire their tact and intelligence of the heart. They asked me how old you were. Dom Juan called you a kid, I think he even said "brat" when he learned that you were only thirty-six. At 2:30 they came with me to a screening of Orpheus. The film has some very beautiful passages. Dom Juan and Feli were very moved. At the beginning, I thought I would not be able to stay. When I came home, I found Pierre [Reynal] and we took care of lamps and carpets. 

Then the theater. I played more easily, with less pain. It was only the fifth act that cost me again. At home, Angeles was waiting for me, radiant with tenderness and kindness, on the landing. She babbled non-stop. She was beautiful. Feli - whom I had forbidden to pick me up - had asked me to call her when I got home. Pitou called me too. I had dinner. Angeles put me to bed. And here I am. This is my day. And now it's your turn. Yes, I need your clear and relaxed mind. I eat, I distract myself, I'm working hard to be more than a shadow when you come back. I will succeed; I want it so much! You, you must come back to me calm, happy with yourself and of your work, grown and cured. Do you hear? I don't ask it anymore, I demand it. Here!

For that: 1) Know that from now on it will be okay for me. It will get better and better. Know that. I wouldn't tell you if I didn't mean it. 2) Work as hard and as well as you can. Don't let yourself be distracted by anything. 3) I don't know where you are in your life with those around you. In any case, put everything back in order, and, in peace, work. 4) Take care of yourself rigorously. 5) Forget about all those petty disgusting stories like Hebertot and don't get involved in intolerable and useless discussions. It's really not worth it and a waste of time and energy. Let it be said. You can answer him later.

Here's your program until the end of March. After that, we'll see and talk all you want. All day and all night if you want. You can rant, rave, ride by yourself, walk around, everything, my dear love, everything you want. I will be happy to watch you. But now, peace, work, and rest. Do you promise me that? 

For the rest, oh my darling, my love, my great, my beautiful love, what can I tell you? say to you? If you knew how you helped me, supported me during these long days of horror, you would consider your life justified, just for that. I can't tell you - in this universe that has suddenly opened up between us, this universe of immense friendship and love that erases even distances, words have no place anymore. But there's no way you can't feel the warmth that you have put around me. Not for a second did I feel alone. Not for a moment and even in my pain, I found you crying with me. This, for me, is the miracle. I would never have believed such love, such trust, such a gift, such a complete understanding. I love you, my darling, and I love you well, wonderfully. I also know that you love me and I am even more sure of you than I am of myself. I thank you with all my soul for being what you are and I give myself again and again to you, without reservations, with all my heart, with the most absolute confidence. See you tomorrow, my love. Sleep well. Good night.

Maria Casarès to Albert Camus, Correspondance, February 23, 1950 [#211]