#i was wary of posting anything concrete

[pepperpixel]

+ Butch 4 Butch +

(Except neither one of them is rlly that butch but holy fUCKING SHIT THAT SONG IS LITERALLY THEM… the version of them I made up in my mind palace… it’s them.)

Anywayyyy. Yeah! Have a tagr art dump..! aka, those vibes when you, out of a series of moments of temporary insanity, end up finding, taking in, nursing back to health and eventually falling into a tangled messy yearning situationship w the asshole tsundere alien who tried to destroy your entire planet… rlly extremely relatable vibes!!

[keikakudom]

RR!AU Why Vox Sponsors the Resort

Something I was gently afraid of when I posted my Reverse/Reset Resort AU was the whole thing coming off as a fix-it/Vox apologist AU... which I won't deny, one of the motivations was to explore how he would be viewed when presented as a "heroic"/good guy pedastal in the narritive. Similar to canon Alastor-- he's morally grey, we don't know exactly what he wants, and is an otherwise "bad guy" on the side of the hero for now. That said! I do deeply adore Vox's mean, cold, evil side.

His "business motivation" for sponsoring Charlie in this AU can be easily written off as a tsundere farce for wanting to be redeemed, but when he contracted with Lucifer, he most definitely, verbatim, used the words "business" and "hotel/resort".

Because that's exactly how Vox sees it. He's a business shark and always wants to be at the top in terms of power-- so yes, he had to give some stuff up(the Vees had to dissolve publically, soul insurance), but what's business without a bit of risk taking? And hey, he got the jump on this opportunity...because you know what sounds like power?

Deciding who gets to enter the pearly gates or not.

So, I do think one faucet here plays on the rumor that when Vox was a human he was a cult leader. It really feels like a God thing to be able to control who gets redeemed or not. So yes, he sold his soul to Lucifer to help Charlie with her hotel/resort. Not her DREAM. Vox is helping her to redeem Sinners, but he never specified to do it philanthropically/like a charity.

He isn't treating redemption as anything more than a product: Sinners are just consumers, statistics and numbers, and all the more proven because there's evidence that ascending/desending between Hell/Heaven is possible(even though the latter hasnt been concretely proven yet, it's enough for him to do business with).

I'm sure Charlie in this AU is wary of Vox, but she doesn't understand or know the full extent of what he's planning. She doesn't have that shark mind to jump straight to the end point and what rewards are to be reaped.

Also, in light of mentioning them: The Vees are important in this AU! They might not be the polycule powerhouse /j as we know in canon, but they are too good of a dynamic to ignore! And they're next on my list to design after I finish Alastor and Vaggie.

[thehothcast]

cassian andor general romance hcs

word count: 994

warnings: none, just a miniscule reference to sex

message from the authors: first post on the account! love that for us. we both (okay just me, fine - grace) went a little feral writing these, enjoy the show! (i was moral support for grace and additional idea giver, hope u love! - rosa)

ok so! i think cass is very easily scared off when it comes to this kind of thing: love. he’s skittish when he’s unsure, and although romantic dalliances aren’t new to him, approaching a situation where he’s not privy to if you reciprocate or even if you ever could, is new to him. he’s always been the one in control of the dynamic, or at the very least an equal, with both participants on the same page (or thereabouts, see him and bix i suppose.)

the man seems a lil avoidant, like he’s just wary of people in general so i'm not so sure how well he’d respond to hearing from a third party that you had a crush on him, whether that be a close friend of yours or an unfamiliar group of fellow rebels. he’d immediately feel like expectations were being pushed onto him and people were anticipating him to react in a certain way. he doesn’t like that, it feels like someone's yanked open the curtains that were obscuring him from the bright light of perception? so even though he returns your feelings for sure, he’s not going to react well to that kind of direct address/situation and would most likely pull away from you in an attempt to take back the control he feels he’s lost.

in the end i think if one of you were to make a move to further the relationship, it would have to be him because he doesn’t like feeling caught off guard or put on the spot. even then, he’s definitely not confessing the true extent of his fondness for you (even though it totally consumes him, this is a man that feels deeply, just look at those eyes babe). 

cassian is someone who expresses their love through actions and deeds, not so much words, at least not immediately, that’s a little too vulnerable for him at the moment.

let's be honest, his version of getting the message across to you is patting you on the shoulder and telling you “that’s really good” as he oversees your group’s blaster training. like the affection is there and you totally get free passes where others don’t, but overall there’s really nothing concrete to suggest he thinks of you as anything other than a friendly comrade, which is probably how he likes it for now.

again, addressing it head on either by yourself or having another person plant the notion into his mind is not the way to go about this. he’s like a stray animal, you see him from across the street and desperately want to pull him close and love up on him, but even the most careful approach will have him skirting away from you in a flash after one wrong move.

honestly the only way to go about this i think is to just let him do his own thing, find a quiet and subtle way let him know you’re open and will be waiting with open arms, and he’ll come to you eventually. i’d say he’d come to you in his own time, and I wouldn't be lying but let's be honest, that first really meaningful look (see elevator scene in rogue one 😩) and pleading of your name is going to come in a moment of high-stakes and danger. what can I say, there's nothing like a life threatening situation in which either one or both of your lives are in jeopardy and desperation and stress infect every decision made, to provoke a momentary lapse in resolve and allow some painfully concealed concern and devotion to seep out of one's every orifice <3.

then there’s the subject of his name. obviously he introduces himself as cassian (unless he’s undercover but that’s a whole other can of worms, you’d get there in the end), so you’ve not really any reason to suspect otherwise until you pose an innocent question about the origins of his name, which leads him to hesitantly surrender his birth name to you. this is only something he’d ever consider doing if he truly, deeply trusted you and felt ready to open up even just a little bit. again, it’s all in his own time, there’s no pushing cassian. psst, don’t be afraid of using his real name, he’ll answer to it…just pick the right moments iykyk

when on missions, clashes tend to happen. cassian believes he knows best (and maybe he does. he probably does lets be fr we’re dumbos), so you’ll every now and again notice him speaking for you or making decisions on your behalf. obviously as an independent entity, this will most likely get on your nerves so it’s an issue that’ll have to be addressed in a sit down session with him. he honestly doesn’t mean it in a controlling way, he probably sees it as him relieving you of any unnecessary burdens, so you’ll have to make it clear to him you’d appreciate it if he lets you stand on your own 2 feet and would, well… for a lack of a better phrase, ‘just butt out’. at the end of the day, you’d rather be equals, partners in crime, not so much some micromanaged talent. come on, it’s understandable cass.

just for funsies... he’s probably unbuttoned his shirt a little more than necessary at least once. just to see if you’d respond to it. he’d seen the style begin to take off amongst the more cocksure pilots (that’s what he tried to tell himself. it was really just fueled by a shy desire to have you look at him like that, like the rebel full of swagger that he knows he isn't). it lasted a grand total of 12 hours before he caught a glimpse of his reflection and cringed a little bit, vanity be damned. the next time you saw him, his shirt was buttoned back up all the way again and he will never acknowledge the fact ever again. 

[depressedgaywriting]

this is like two whole posts in one month arent u so proud of me

TWs: blood and the coughing up of it, swearing

42

Hero forced themselves up from the ground, the ground soaked red with their blood. The coppery smell was thick in the air, suffocating.

"You're going to," - they coughed and blood dribbled down their chin - "Regret- regret that." They only just managed to choke the words out before erupting into a series of coughs and blood.

"Am I now?" Villain pushed themselves off the wall they'd leant up against, taking a lazy step towards Hero.

"Yes." They spat blood onto the concrete.

"I could punch you in the ribs once and you would snap like a twig, Hero, don't even try. You're practically wilting where you stand."

Hero coughed again, stumbling to stable themselves against the wall. "I will kill you."

"Hero. Come on, baby, I've won. Aren't we done yet?"

More blood onto concrete. "Don't call me that. And don't pretend you give a shit if you kill me." They wiped their mouth, their hand coming away still connected to a string of blood mixed with saliva. "Don't pretend you don't want to. At least- at least a little bit."

Their mask of indifference flickered. "Hero, please. Just give up. I'm not killing you and you fucking know it."

"Hero please." Hero mocked. "Do I fucking know that, Villain? Do I? Have I fucking known anything since you left me for dead in a fucking jail cell?"

"Oh, cry me a river. You were fine." Villain took a step closer as they spoke, stopping in their tracks as Hero staggered backwards, clinging to the wall as they slowly slipped down it. "I lived there for years. You could handle two days."

"Two days? Like it would only be two days." They scoffed, slipping all the way and landing hard to sit on the ground.

"Two days, like two days later when I went back for you and you were gone, Hero, that kind of two days." They crouched down in front of Hero, keeping their distance, and reached out a wary hand. "Hero, please."

Hero coughed again, blood running down their neck like a gruesome necklace, and took Villain's hand.

[thelaurenshippen]

hey bridgies!

my reply to an ask was already reblogged once, so the original is still floating out there, but I'm playing catch up on my inbox and it's unclear to me if the scuttlebutt folks heard about Bridgewater S3 was part of a panel/convention chat or a private conversation in a meet & greet, so I'm not going to comment on anything that was said at a convention I wasn't at, not knowing if its something Misha expected to get tweeted about! I should've learned more about the context before replying to asks about it.

but the tldr: I have personally not heard any official news about S3 of Bridgewater. my own show, Maxine Miles, got canceled by iHeart earlier this year, and I'm trying to figure out how to do additional seasons of that post-cancellation, so I wouldn't be surprised if iHeart is, in general, pulling back on fiction spending but I'm genuinely not sure!

I'll keep you posted if I hear anything official - at the end of the day, Bridgewater isn't my show to control, so I'm wary of saying anything official! and given our schedules, Aaron, Misha, and I haven't had a chance to catch up in a while. I'm sorry I don't have more concrete info for y'all!

[anneapocalypse]

What was their initial impression of the four claimants? How did this change over the course of the story?

Her first impression of Wuk Lamat was overall positive, though Ariane pretty quickly picked up on the fact that she was covering up some big insecurities. (She knows what it feels like when you don't really feel qualified but you have to rise to the occasion anyway.)

(Quick summary for context: a big point in Ariane's own story is that post-Endwalker, her sister Gratienne shows up alive (each of them having believed the other dead in the Calamity). Grati had turned to a life of... privateering, and had been at sea out near Dalmasca when she picked up a few key details about this Warrior of Light back in Eorzea and was like, no... it couldn't be... but what if... It took her some time to get out of her current contract, and get back to Eorzea, and she shows up at Ariane's house on her birthday and they have a very emotional reunion.)

SO, Gratienne is with her when she meets Wuk Lamat! And those two really hit it off. They just have an energy that really meshes, there's maybe some chemistry there, they have similar senses of humor and are frequent seen laughing their asses off together.

It's hard for Ariane not to like someone who vibes so well with her sister, and that's a big part of her wanting to help. Once in Tural, over the course of Wuk Lamat's journey through the Rite of Succession, they become surprisingly good friends.

Koana she's intitially a little intimidated by, because though she's come a long way getting past it as she's gotten closer to her Scion friends and of course Urianger, there's still a little kernel of insecurity deep down that she comes off as uneducated and less intelligent next to the archons, and while Koana isn't an archon he's obviously very intellectually inclined. Naturally she can see why he sought the help of Urianger and Thancred. (And in her story, because she's in a relationship with Urianger, she did know that from the start and they talked about it and both decided to go through with it.) But all that changes when she sees Koana react to his sister being in danger. The love she sees between the siblings is very real and familiar to her.

Which makes Zoraal Ja and his distance from his siblings even more confusing to her. Ariane does not see his betrayal coming. She does have some worries about how he's going to react to losing to not one but both of his siblings, but she does not expect the extent of his anger and resentment, maybe out of a certain amount of naivety--after all, the other two are so close, surely this was a loving and close-knit family all around, even if their other brother is more reserved?

I think Grati, who has spent the past 5+ years interacting with a lot more shady characters and who lacks Ariane's tendency to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, is a lot more wary of Zoraal Ja from the start, and picks up on a lot of the little red flags that Ariane does not, but it's not like she has anything concrete; she doesn't know the guy, at the end of the day. (She also might be slightly motivated by thinking that Wuk Lamat is hot and shit-talking her brother to her face might not be the best way to stay in her, uh, good graces. I've yet to decide if that ship happens in some way. 😉 We'll see.)

When it comes to Bakool Ja Ja, Ariane is a bit baffled as to why he's in the running to begin with--his motives seem openly selfish and his actions are reckless and she wonders at multiple points why Gulool Ja Ja doesn't simply disqualify him as a claimant, when his rule would so clearly pose a danger to Tural's people. This comes largely from her lack of understanding of Mamool Ja culture, and what the optics would actually be of barring him from competing. She learns along the way, but it's not until Ja Tiika that she truly understands.

[shyvioletcat]

A/N: I wanted to get out of a posting slump so I quickly threw this together. I may or may not be addicted to the single parent trope at the moment. Sorry, not sorry? Anyway, please enjoy. 

~~~~~

With the sun shining and the alluring solitude of a park bench, Rowan thought eating his lunch outside today was a good idea. Inside wasn’t all that appealing with Fenrys on his case today, instead of the literal case they should be investigating. Both ranking detective of the Orynth Police Department and partners on just about every case that their Chief of police gave them, Fenrys thought that entitled him to a say in Rowan’s personal life. Today was about the lack of romance Rowan was experiencing in his out of office hours—stating that he was married to his work. That was an exaggeration, Rowan was just dedicated to his work. There was a difference.

Sure, he had a habit of taking work home with him and more than once had fallen asleep with files in his bed. There just wasn’t time for anything else when you dedicated your life to saving others.

Fenrys claimed it made him grumpy and irritable, and no fun to be around. Lorcan, another detective on the force who had known him since they were children, was quick to claim that Rowan had, in fact, been born that way. 

So to escape the pestering and matchmaking, he pardoned himself for his lunch break and went out into the fresh air. Rowan sat on the bench, unwrapping his sub he’d just bought a few minutes ago before he wandered through the large botanical garden to find somewhere quiet to eat. He tucked the carry bag under his thigh to stop it blowing away and took a bite. The city hummed around him, combined with the chirping of birds and the rustle of leaves in the wind. It wasn’t anywhere near silent but at least someone wasn’t asking him about when was the last time he got laid. 

A squirrel ran past, disturbing the fallen autumn leaves and stopping on its hind legs to sniff the air in Rowan’s direction before scurrying off with a flip of a fluffy tail. Rowan huffed a small laugh at it, something about squirrels was so comical. Maybe it was their tiny little hands. He was about to take another bite when there was another noise that didn’t fit the ambiance of the situation. It was a sniffle and immediately Rowan’s head snapped to the source, his body already on high alert. 

A few metres away on the concrete path was a little girl, no older than three, eyes shining with tears and she hugged a long eared stuffed rabbit to her chest. Rowan surveyed the area, looking for who she might belong to, even though he had his suspicions about the tears. There was no one, it was just him, the girl, and the grey squirrel. 

Rowan rebagged his lunch and went over. His feet moving through the brittle leaves caught her attention and her sad eyes widened as he walked over to her. Aware his size could be intimidating, Rowan slowed down. It was handy while dealing with criminals but not so much with lost children. When she looked ready to run he stopped completely and crouched down. In the sunlight her hair was bronze, her brown eyes were eyeing him suspiciously but he could still see the helplessness there. 

“Hi,” Rowan said with a small smile. “Are you lost?”

She nodded. Suspicions confirmed.

“Do you know where your parents are?”

The little girl nodded, still very wary of him. Smart girl, but Rowan wouldn’t get anywhere if she didn’t talk to him. 

“See that building right there?” he pointed over his shoulder to where the roof of the police building towered above the trees. “Do you know it? It’s the police building and I work there.” Again the girl nodded. “I even have my badge to prove it.”

Rowan reached into his back pocket and pulled out his badge. The girl moved forward, running her fingers of the impressions with some familiarity, following the lines of the crest without even looking and turned her eyes on him. 

“Will you let me help you?” Rowan asked softly.

The little girl had been convinced. “I was at the playground with my mama, and I was chasing squirrels.”

Rowan barely caught the last word as her little voice struggled around it.

“Those pesky squirrels are fast, huh?” Rowan commiserated.

“Yeah! And I can’t find my way back to mama!”

The admission brought on a new wave of tears. Rowan extracted a napkin from his lunch and gave it to her. She did a very poor job of wiping her nose but it would have to do. 

“I know where the playground is, shall I take you back?” Rowan said.

“Yes please,” the little girl answered, still miserable.

Rowan stood, leading the way in the direction of the playground. The little girl scurried after him, much like a squirrel herself, and very surprisingly took his hand. He hadn’t offered it, but he didn’t have the heart to take it away now. Looking down he could see how the tears had started to dry and her face was a lot less blotchy. If holding her hand offered her that small comfort, he could give her that. 

“My name is Rowan. What’s your’s?” he asked. 

“Marigold,” the little girl replied, her head tilting all the way up to see him. 

Rowan smiled. “Nice to meet you, Marigold.”

The sounds of the playground started to reach them and Marigold’s hand relaxed in his, she didn’t let go though. As it came into view Rowan kept his eye out for a panicked mother, no doubt searching desperately for her child. If that wasn’t the case, Rowan was about to have an infinitely more complicated situation on his hands. Nothing looked out of the ordinary and Rowan’s heart sank. He’d have to take her back to the station, maybe look at cctv footage, hopefully find—

“Mari!”

A female voice behind him had the girl breaking free of his hand and running. Rowan turned in time to see Marigold run into the arms of who he assumed was her mother. He couldn’t tell much about her, except that she had blonde hair, every other feature was obscured as she held her child like it was a lifeline.

“You scared me,” the woman said, sitting back on her heels. “What happened?”

“Squirrels, mama. They ran away,” Marigold explained.

The woman gave a long suffering sigh, but the joyful relief in her lessened the effect. “It’s always the squirrels.”

Rowan couldn’t help but laugh at that, and that small sound drew the woman’s attention. Her eyes were an unusual hue of blue, nearly turquoise, and they narrowed on him. A moment later she was standing, putting herself between him and Marigold. She looked familiar, but Rowan couldn’t place how. And he didn’t have the chance to contemplate it further. 

“Who the hell are you and why did you have my daughter?” she accused.

He knew what this looked like, a strange man walking with a little girl. With the adrenaline running through her it was likely the woman wasn’t thinking clearly. It was best Rowan wrapped this up quickly before she made a scene. 

“I found her wandering and brought her back,” he explained.

“Likely story,” the woman said. “Are you hurt, Mari? Did he hurt you?”

The question was asked at him, like if this woman so much as blinked he might make a run for it. 

“No, Mama. I’m safe,” Marigold replied.

Some of the tension relaxed from the woman’s shoulders, but she still wasn’t ready to back down. 

“Ma’am, I’m not a predator,” Rowan said, pulling out his badge and ID again.

This time the woman relaxed fully, there was even a hint of a smile on her face. “Ma’am? How old do you think I am?”

“I—” Rowan didn’t actually know how to answer that question.

“Sorry about that,” she said. “I went full mamabear on you.”

Rowan shrugged it away casually. “You had valid cause.”

“Thank you, officer,” she said, stepping aside so she could take Marigold’s hand. 

“Detective,” Rowan said automatically, kicking himself for it.

“Oh, sorry. Detective,” the woman teased. “Whitethorn, wasn’t it?”

Rowan nodded. He deserved the mocking for correcting a woman who had been distraught less than five minutes ago. 

“I’ll be sure to let my father know about your heroics, there might be an end of year bonus in it for you.”

Rowan felt his brows furrow in confusion. “Your father?”

“He’s chief of police at Orynth PD. I’m sure he’ll be eternally grateful to you for keeping his granddaughter safe,” the woman explained further. 

“Oh, you’re his daughter,” Rowan said, connecting the obvious dots aloud. 

“Guilty as charged.” That was said with a mock salute. “I’m Aelin.”

Rowan couldn’t help but stare for a moment. Everyone knew the tragic story of the Chief’s daughter, or rather the man she loved. She’d been married to her father’s protege, Sam Cortland, who was one of the best cops on the force. He’d reached detective status when the worst happened. It was a sting operation to bring in a notorious crime ring. They were set to bring in the head of the operation too, but there had been a leak and the scum were waiting for them. It had been a shitshow and a bloody fight. Sam had taken a bullet meant for Chief Galathynius and it had hit him in a devastating spot despite wearing his ballistic vest. He died on scene, leaving behind his young wife and daughter who was barely three months old. The fact the leader of the crime ring had gotten away made it all that much more bitter. 

“Aelin,” Rowan repeated, then cleared his throat to try and cover the fact he hadn’t thought of what he’d say next. “I’m glad I could help.”

“It’s much appreciated.” Aelin then turned to her daughter. “Come on, Mari. We’ll let Detective Whitethorn get back to work.”

“Bye,” Marigold said, swinging herself forward with her mother's hand and waving aggressively. So aggressively that she dropped her bunny. 

Without thinking, Rowan picked it up and handed it back to the little girl, who showed her appreciation with a toothy smile.

“Thank you,” Aelin said. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

“Goodbye, Mrs Cortland,” Rowan replied, erring on the side of professionalism, and he saw something shutter in Aelin’s eyes before she banished it with a smile and a nod. 

Rowan’s phone went off in his pocket, and he knew it was the timer letting him know his lunch break was over. With Marigold and Aelin gone he swore under his breath. It turned out he’d be eating at his desk anyway. He made his way back to his office, the trek through the foyer and up the elevator second nature at this point. No one bothered him as he unlocked his office door, the plaque on it declaring his name with gold letters. This door had once read another name entirely, Sam Cortland had once been written on it in the same harsh font. Rowan ignored that thought as he stepped through it and took a seat at his desk. 

He started on his sandwich again, bringing up files on his computer screen so he could read and eat at the same time. It had been all of five minutes before the reason for his escape appeared in his doorway, smiling and looking ready to provoke. 

“Piss off, Fen,” Rowan said flatly. “I’m busy.”

Fenrys ignored every bit of annoyance radiating from the other man and walked in, taking a seat on the other side of the desk. 

“Soooo,” the blonde man said, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Lunch date?”

Rowan sacrificed an olive that had fallen from his sandwich and threw it at Fenrys, it hit him in the chest. “No.”

“Meet anyone interesting then?” Fenrys pressed.

Rowan’s retort of bugger off was cut off by Rhoe Galathynius stepping into his office. 

“Whitethorn,” he said, effectively ignoring Fenrys as he approached the desk. Rowan stood on instinct and took the hand the Chief of Police offered him. “Thank you.”

There was true gratitude shining in Chief Galathynius’ blue eyes, a different shade to his daughter’s, but it was now Rowan recognised the slight similarities. The handshake was firm and both men nodded at the end. 

“Don’t mention it, sir,” Rowan said, and a small smile appeared on Chief Galathyunius’ face. 

“Not a chance of that, I’m afraid,” he said. “Just wait until Evalin finds out, you’ll be a very popular man, Detective Whitethorn.”

That was all he said before Chief Galathynius walked out. Leaving behind a very perplexed Fenrys.

“What was all that about?” he demanded. 

Rowan waved him off. “Nothing. Don’t you have work to do?”

“Bah!” Fenrys exclaimed, throwing his hands up before pushing out of the chair. “You know what they say about all work and no play.”

“Go,” Rowan urged, just wanting the man out of his office. He thought he had accomplished his goal and was blessed with a few beautiful moments of silence. But then Fenrys’ appeared again, just his head, floating in the doorway.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Fenrys said. “Meet anyone interesting?”

“No,” Rowan said, sparing Fenrys a glance before returning his gaze to his computer, the name Hamel in bold at the top of the screen. This was more pressing than the gossip Fenrys was fishing for. Rowan had a job to do, that was the facts of it and his purpose, so he just shook his head. “No, I didn’t.” 

~~~~~

Tags: @fucking-winchester-trash​ // @literary-licorice​ // @galyxsy // @tangledraysofsunshine​ // @highqueenofelfhame​ // @3am-reading​ // @soup-that-is-too-hawt​ // @aelinfire-bringer // @nalgenewhore​ // @highladyofthesith // @http-itsrebecca​ // @sleep-and-books​ // @alifletcher2012​ // @westofmoon​ // @sleeping-and-books​ // @ttakeitbacknoww​ // @armixers-unite // @mariamuses​ // @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen​ // @velarian-trash​ // @queenofxhearts​ // @heroesofterrasen​ // @highladyofstoriesandmusic​ // @empire-of-wildfire​ // @camerooonchiu​ // @crackedship​ // @lowhangingtreebranches // @over300books​ // @yourwhisperingshadows​ // @thesirenwashere​ // @tswaney17​ // @impossiblescissorspeachpaper​ // @cat5313​ // @judelovescardan​ // @flowerspringsea​ // @chaoticskyy​ // @the-regal-warrior​ // @fanfictrash3000​ // @blueeyes425​ // @starseternalnighttriumphant​ // @bamchickawowow​ // @thehuntressofmoon // @giorgia-the-trashpanda​ // @flora-and-fae​ // @thereaderandfangirl​ // @illyrian-bookworm​ // @chemicha​ // @meltalgel // @gay-book-nerd​ // @that-odd-puzzle-piece​ // @i-love-all-books // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato​ // @girl-who-reads-the-books // @hizqueen4life​ // @the-third-me​ // @1islessthan3books​ // @bestmelle​ // @cursebreaker29​ // @b00kworm​ // @superspiritfestival​ // @aesthetics-11​ // @maastrash​ // @mynewdreamwasyou​ // @the-last-apprentice​ // @charincharge​ // @firestarsandseneschals​ // @scarznstars​ // @absolute-dissapointment // @thesurielships​ // @df3ndyr​ // @trinitybailey2003 // @gwynethhberdara // @booknerdproblems​ // @larisssss​ // @sevenfreckles-for-sevenloves // @rolltide7​ // @scandinavianromantic // @tillyrubes10​ // @starwarsslytherin // @minaidss // @paytin77​ // @jesstargaryenqueen​ // @anntheintrovert​ // @starbornvalkyrie​ // @loudphantomdragon​ // @woollycat22 // @claralady // @perseusannabeth​ // @fangirlprincess09​ // @maddymelv // @sierrareads​ // @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx // @jlinez // @lysandra-ghost-leopard​ // @rowaelinismyotp​ // @pullnpeeltwizzlers​ // @anne-reads // @jadeaffliction​ // @gracie-rosee​ // @elriel4life​ // @rowaelinrambling​ // @tothestarswholistentodreamers // @thenerdandfandoms // @castielspelvis​ // @swankii-art-teacher​ // @grandma-noob-lord​ // @vanzetanze​ // @highlady-brittney​ // @story-scribbler​ // @linguine-panini // @pastasiren​ // @surielandiareendgame // @silentquartz​ // @live-the-fangirl-life​ // @whimsicallyreading​ // @goddess-aelin​ // @littleboxofthunder​ // @empress-ofbloodshed​ // @booksbqueen // @rowanwhitethornisbae​ // @charlizeed​ // @feysand-loml // @aelin-queen-of-terrasen​ // @alyx801​ // @amandaswallowtail​ // @louiseleblancdiggory​ // @abookishfreak // @danibutterr​ // @thegreyj​ // @lizzyfirebringer // @endlessdaydream​ // @magnifique1807​ // @s-uppertime​

[babbelswoofominides]

I can't be the only one who's tired of the "Everything is Problematic™" culture that we're currently experiencing, right? I'm talking about the "call out" posts where people say shit like "if you still like Harry Potter you're a transphobic asshole and worse than JKR!". This over simplifications dilute the meaning of "transphobe", and the actual transphobes benefit from the loss of importance that this accusation carries.

People think they're being so intelligent when creating these ever-changing, pointless rules: "don't buy from Zara, or you support genocide!", "don't listen to Taylor Swift, or you endorse climate change!". I've heard it all. If it takes so little to be labeled as such a horrible person, people will dismiss the whole problem. How can they take you seriously if you say these things un-ironically? Also, it's uncanny how these radicalized """activists""" sometimes overlap beautifully with the far-right wing politics. Take anti-shippers who want to police fanfictions: their idea of "regulation" (censorship) aligns perfectly with the far-right bigots.

And if a problem is just mildly severe, to show you care about it you don't need to get Big Mad. There is a whole sea of annoyance in between silent acceptance and full blown rage (which is rarely productive if not directed wisely). I'm wary of performative rage over trivial matters, because it rings hollow, like the person is more interested in virtue signaling to their peers than actually doing something concrete about it. Even if it's a Big Problem, raging left and right can be powerful but short lived.

I think this is the problem with today's activism: short lived bursts of rage don't cover it. You need to work, work, work. Even silently, even with no social recognition. Activism shouldn't be a stage where you perform an angry speech, everyone claps and you're now Morally Sound. That's how far right wing nutters operate: get Big Mad about every thing (whether big or trivial), Perform your Anger, rinse and repeat. The difference is they probably know what they're doing, creating a climate of perennial anger. They know how to direct that anger to the vote. They make a mountain out of a mole hill so that it's easier to solve the made up problem, thus creating cohesiveness. Meanwhile, left wing "activists" making up new rules and moving the goal posts are just creating problems whose solution just furthers the divide. Finding enemies everywhere, inside and outside of our circles, is not useful*.

That's why this left-wing "activism" often morphs into a witch hunt: people feel powerless, so making up new rules to follow and hunting down the "infidels" gives them the illusion they're doing enough. Take the campaign against JKR: boycotting anything HP is not enough, the goal posts are moved every time. Now you're promoting transphobia if you partake in HP's fandom (almost no one talks about why JKR is fucking problematic anymore, so the "normies" will hear this kind of outlandish shit and dismiss the whole matter as internet pishposh).

Instead of keeping up the battle against the actual transphobes, which can feel frustrating because they seem untouchable, you settle on hounding anyone who doesn't adhere to the made up rules that become more and more strict. Or even worse: you don't accept someone's help against the terfs unless they adhere strictly to the made up rules.

Eerie how on one side they're ready to accept actual human violation rights, meanwhile the other side can't even accept that some people are against terfs but may still like HP, and so schism after schism happens. That's why left wing activists lack cohesiveness. They can't accept you're not a bad person or a terf if you think slightly different from them. No one collaborates with the other anymore.

HP is just one of the many examples that describe this mechanism. Apply this to all modern politics and you've got the root of the matter. ---

*Ironically, far-right wing nutters are more cohesive because they tolerate anyone in their group, they act like One Big Solid Unity against the rest of the world. That's why you'll see terfs shack up with nazis and misogynists, if it means they will get rid of trans people. Chilling to the bone, but their strategy is effective in keeping their ranks united, because at the moment they're only lashing outside, not inside. It'll of course be a harsh wake up call when the leopards eat their face lmao. Also, what I'm saying is not "tolerate Actual Bad People to win a battle", but: "get angry at the Actual Bad People, don't invent new enemies!" ---

I don't know how to end this, and it's not lost on me how complaining about complainers makes me a complainer too lmao, but sometimes a rant is just a rant and you need to vent.

[errorid-mt7lt7k7unfr9ttfua5]

i didnt have to use photomanipulation to make this. you can Easily change the text of any post on Twitter by opening the Page Source and messing with things, albeit it only changes it in my client, not the server.

it creates a perfectly convincing but nonetheless fake post with a person's name attached to it. i even changed the number of views, likes, date, and more on this post. Anyone can, with just a moment, make Anyone say Anything they want without even using AI tools, and its so easy.

be wary of things presented as fact without concrete sources, and if something is presented that way, verify it.

[flecks-of-stardust]

saw that kosa post on my dash and didn't want to reblog it, but wanted to type up something about it anyways. yes, it was pushed to senate before, and they're doing it again with some revisions. here's a link to the bill itself. i'm very wary of how that post bounces me around to tiktok, of all places, for a source, so i looked up some stuff myself.

stopkosa.com offers some options for letting representatives know you're not happy with the bill. EFF also has something similar. on top of that, there's a change.org petition against the bill, and someone in the notes of that post linked this linktree that has some of the same links and a few extra. i'm... a little dubious about that google forms thing in there, but some of the stuff there seems useful.

i'm not going to say anything about the op of that post, they're just a minor who got worked up over this, but here's some more concrete information and actionable plans if anyone else has seen it and wants to do something about it that doesn't involve tiktok.

[kimbapisnotsushi]

okay, part two for @elaine2895 with my top 5 fave animanga moments!! sorry this took so long LMAAAO. fair warning for everyone else giving it a read , this WILL contain spoilers for each series mentioned but uhh let's go!!

I. HAIKYUU!!

AGH I have so many fave moments from Haikyuu!! so this one was kind of tricky, but my ultimate fave would def be those parallelism panels during the Karasuno v Nekoma nationals match — where the ball goes up in the air and everyone is watching and waiting for it to drop, and we shift from being at Nationals to just a regular old practice match. It's an absolutely gorgeous scene, and I love love LOVE what it represents. The idea that Karasuno and Nekoma understand and know each other so well, that their bond is so strong playing against each other feels like home . . . doesn't feel like a competition at ALL . . . just the two of them having fun and connecting and using everything they learned because they DREAMED about meeting each other there . . .

like. i might go and make a separate post to rant about this but there is something absolutely beautiful about how, like, karasuno has played SO many giants, SO many acknowledged powerhouse teams, teams that had the attention of everyone else and were counted on to win Nationals, but it was their match with Nekoma - both from the concrete, both hidden in shadows, both scavenging for scraps of whatever they could take and turning it into their own strengths - that electrified everyone. i think that's what makes it my favorite match overall - every other team they played was a lesson learned, what they could have done better, how to overcome obstacles, but Nekoma wasn't any of that. It was just two teams working towards the goal of meeting each other when nobody else thought they could do it!!!!!! BUT THEY BELIEVED IN EACH OTHER!!!!!!

case in point i'm super excited for how nekoma v karasuno is going to play out in animation

II. THE NIGHT BEYOND THE TRICORNERED WINDOW

Okay this is probs kind of cheesy but there's a moment in the climax where Mikado saves Hiyakawa and repeats to him a line that Hiyakawa had told him from back when they first met: "If you're with me, you won't be scared anymore."

Remember, Mikado spent his entire life running. He didn't want to see scary things. He didn't want to deal with anything that could disturb his life. But he couldn't avoid it forever. When Hiyakawa chose him as his partner, Hiyakawa promised him that exactly, that Mikado wouldn't be scared. And it sure didn't seem that way at first; they still dealt with murder and curses and spirits with ill intent, and Mikado was scared for a lot of it, but there came a point when he got tired of running. He faced his fears. Hiyakawa had been right, in the end. Mikado wasn't scared anymore because being with Hiyakawa helped him realize that the only way he could be brave was by using his own power.

And Hiyakawa? Well . . . everyone has things that they're running from. And Hiyakawa spent a longer time than Mikado running. He didn't have anyone. He didn't know he had the choice of being able to confront his fears. What I love about the series climax is that it's all about Mikado returning everything that Hiyakawa had done for him, through his own abilities. It's such a beautiful, heart-shattering moment, and it made me very much not okay and left me in a crisis for HOURS.

III. KOIMONOGATARI

Okay so this series didn't make the original list, but there was a scene in this one that had my heart cracking in two and I could not stop thinking about it for WEEKS on end. To give a short summary, Koimonogatari is kind of like a coming-of-age, contemplative series of introspection and friendship. We have two main characters: Yuiji, who starts out as ignorant, wary, and uncomfortable with queer people; and Yamato, who is gay and has a looooooot of inner conflict about it (and also starts with having a crush on Yuiji's friend). They become friends, and Yuiji's thinking shifts and opens up the more he comes to understand and care about Yamato.

Yamato, though . . . he's dealing with a LOT. There's a scene where he's kind of breaking down and Yuiji hugs him and tells him that he loves him (not to mislead anyone, this is as a friend - which they both understand, and I also think that it really is important to show that this is something friends can do for each other) and that he hopes Yamato can love himself as well, and Yamato replied with the single most heartbreaking line I had ever read in a while: "Come to think of it, the thought of loving myself never even crossed my mind."

Like, wow. Holy shit. I was a MESS after that scene. It's something that I know a lot of people can relate to, and it was beautifully done.

(I'd also like to add that Koimonogatari has other complexities to it that could make it a hit or miss for some people, regardless of how much I love this specific scene. This is a series I do suggest you approach with a critical mind, but it's still a fun read!)

IV. FLAT

This is another one that didn't make the original list, but I love it dearly. For some background info: the main character, Heisuke, is a lazy, insincere, and somewhat self-absorbed teenager. He's not great with studying or doing housework, and a lot of the times he does things for his own interest. (And I don't mean this in a "His mental health impacts his actions, he wants to change but can't, he hates himself for being such a way" kind of thing - it's not like that at all.) He changes, ever so slowly, when he starts bonding with and looking after his little cousin Aki, who is much more responsible than any child should be. It's really sweet and I loved seeing Heisuke grow, and I do recommend it if you get the chance!

There's this one scene that I think about a LOT since having read this series, where Heisuke has to write an essay about his future goals/career/dreams and isn't really sure what to put down, and when he tells his aunt she goes, "Ah, you did that a couple years ago too! You didn't know what to write back then, either. Guess you haven't changed that much."

And this sends Heisuke into an existential crisis, because . . . his aunt is kind of right, he thinks. He even sees Aki changing in different ways as the days go by. But if Heisuke hasn't changed at all — if he's always going to be this lazy, selfish, inconsiderate person — then what does that mean for him?

And just a bit later, while Heisuke is baking a roll cake (because his hobby is making sweets!), his best friend Suzuki recalls watching him endlessly practice trying to get the roll perfect in middle school, all smooth and no cracks, and says, "I remember you could never get it right . . . I wonder when you managed to get it perfect?"

And, oh my god. It was SUCH a simple thing to say, but it was also something very true! Heisuke HAD changed! He wasn't the same person he was two years ago! He could bake a roll cake perfectly without a second thought! Even if it wasn't something big, even if it wasn't something that other people wanted to change about him, it was still a change Heisuke made within himself, and I think that was a BRILLIANT lesson to teach. It definitely made me feel better about my own shortcomings, and I hope it does the same for many people moving forward.

V. POKEMON

ASH KETCHUM BECAME THE MOTHERFUCKING GLOBAL CHAMPION OF THE GODDAMN WORLD AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH

[redux-iterum]

FAQ

To be added to over time.

Q: Why did you answer my ask with a plant fact?

A: Any question that could lead to spoilers for Iterum will be deftly riposted with some neat trivia! That way, you still get something without me actually giving anything away. Ain’t that sweet?

-

Q: Can I use the lore of this setting in my own work/to make fan characters/as inspiration?

A: So long as credit is given if you post it online, yes! Feel free to drop a link in an ask or @ this blog so we can take a look at it.

-

Q: Why does Dullard hate Greystripe?

A: Fuck, man. In short, he’s an asshole that treats his friends immeasurably poorly when they’re completely in the right and just trying to look out for him, abandons everyone around him without a second thought to serve his own selfishness, throws self-pity parties about things that aren’t his fault and then never once shows guilt when things ARE his fault (which happens quite a lot)... and yet somehow, for some bizarre reason, the narrative, the fandom and the other characters in the story reward him for his poor behavior. They all speak fondly of a wonderful friend that does not exist and treat him with awe and respect when he doesn’t remotely deserve it. He’s a fucking dick and he gets away with it, is my point. You can read more about my hate for him in this tag.

-

Q: What’s the deal with humans and the Clans?

A: More can be read here, but basically, the territories all together are in a protected place called Chell Park, where the cats are the draw for visitors and are thus given land for them to just exist on. Feline fans and breeders are very interested in these cats that behave and look very unusual, and that leads to them coming into town and buying things based on the cats, and that leads to a happy town with money. The colonies are a very big deal for the town, to the point that they have people hired to research these cats, but because they’re so wary of humans and can be easily upset, humans are to stay out of their land and just observe at a distance.

-

Q: Is there a way to support the blog?

A: There’s a Ko-fi and a Patreon! Any bit helps, big or small, and it’s very appreciated.

-

Q: How old is [background character]? Who is the oldest cat in the Clans? (And many other questions to do with age)?

 A: Lynx and I do not have the ages of every single character in this story, for the sake of Lynx’s sanity. The most relevant characters have concrete ages, such as Fireheart or Goldenflower, but we have no idea how old Rockstream of RiverClan is. We’re detailed up to a point. For further information, see here.

-

Q: Is there a reason you haven’t answered my book-or-character-related ask?

A: I try to answer every question I can, but if you haven’t seen yours on the blog and it has to do with the story or a character, the chances are high that I want to answer it in full once the current book is over and we’re at no risk of spoiling the end of the story. I hope you’ll be pleasantly surprised when one day your ask from half a year ago appears with a big ol’ textwall of an answer.

-

Q: How would the Clans react to [X]?

A: These asks tend to answer themselves, or can easily be answered with the information and lore already given on this blog. There’s also a tag for “React” questions that you can check out in case your question has already been answered.

[sagurus]

Mini Gift Time!!!

[sagurus: the following is written by my DCMK secret santa and addressed to me. I'll go ahead and put my commentary / response in blockquote + brackets to keep it distinct from the content written by them. And to my santa, if there's a way you'd prefer I post this lmk!]

Happy December from your DCMK Secret Santa!!

So, I'm totally a liar and haven't finished the second mini gift I'm making you because I got a sewing pattern from my mom as an (early) Yule/Christmas present (Christmas for her, Yule for me haha) and my AutiHD brain went nuts and I've been hyper-fixated for the past like two weeks, and I'm over halfway done with it now but my brain just will not leave this alone.

No worries, all you're Secret Santa gifts are going to get done! But since it's been a hot minute since I last reached out I wanted to give you this!!!

_______

Saguru really hopes his nervousness is not as easily observed as he fears it is. For all his skill observing, he’s never been very good at monitoring and changing his own body language to display what he wants it to. (Not like Kaito, who can change his body language as easily and as quickly as his clothes.) Saguru makes a conscious effort to keep himself from swallowing nervously. He can’t mess this up. (He can’t). Kaito is finally letting him in, letting him help. Saguru is determined not to fail his...friend. (Kaito is his friend. The version of him that transferred to Ekoda High to investigate him as Kaitou KID would have never thought it was possible.) This is the first heist he’s been to since Kaito agreed to let Saguru help with KID, with taking down the shadows lurking on the edges who are out to kill the magician. (He’s helping KID with heists. His younger self would have an aneurysm.) It takes great effort to hold in the laughter that thought causes. He can’t quite hold back the smile that tugs at his mouth, though he tries to press his lips together and prays no one notices.

Saguru forcibly focuses his thoughts on the clock ticking down to the start of the heist. He’s made a point of not watching Conan warily. He knows the KID Killer is, in theory, no threat to his friend, but he can’t help but be wary. From what Kaito had told him about the little detective, he can’t help but think that, perhaps, Kaito was the slightest bit right in saying that Conan had deserved to be tased. Especially when Kaito had pulled out photographic evidence of the kind of damage the child does with those soccer balls of his. Anything that can put that kind of crater in a concrete wall should be considered a deadly weapon when aimed at a person. (So yes, as uncomfortable as the thought makes him, Conan might have deserved to have a taser fired at him, just a little. Saguru was glad Kaito was so good at dodging projectiles. He’d have to thank Nakamouri-san sometime.)

The clock ticks ever slower towards the top of the hour, and Saguru slowly (casually. Don’t draw attention.) makes his way over towards the young detective. He hopes to be able to distract or mislead Conan enough to keep him from being too much of an obstacle to Kaito. He has full faith in his friend’s abilities, but still. Anything he can do to help, to take some of the burden off Kaito’s shoulders, he’ll do it.

“Conan-kun.” The child turns his gaze on Saguru (intense, unsettling. Something about those eyes have always felt off. As though they belong to something that only looks like a human child.), and studies him for a moment.

“Hakuba-niisan!” Conan chirps, “You’re here to catch KID too?” Saguru nods, doesn’t let himself hesitate. He draws on the feelings he remembers from so long ago, when he truly did intend to arrest KID.

“I wasn’t aware you were going to be in attendance tonight.” The lie slips from his tongue easily. He really has changed quite a lot. Conan’s eyes narrow, giving him a skeptical look for a brief moment before his childish countenance returns. (Kaito, some distant part of his mind notes, isn’t the only one who can completely and near-perfectly alter his body language in an instant.) Saguru valiantly tries to ignore that – rather unsettling – observation.

“Yep! I’m gonna catch KID for sure!” Saguru isn’t sure what that expression was meant to be (perhaps innocent childish confidence?) but it looks deadly. A chill races up Saguru’s spine at the sharp edge to his grin. This isn’t a smile, it’s an animal baring it’s teeth in threat. A precursor to violence.

Saguru hadn’t realized how much time had passed while he and Conan spoke, but the lights go out briefly, leaving only the moonlight shining through the window and acting as a spotlight for KID. Saguru feels some of the tension leave at the sight. He couldn’t be sure someone wouldn’t make an attempt on KID’s life before the heist.

He is, once again, very grateful that his reckless and public accusations against Kaito hadn’t been overheard by the wrong people back then. He couldn’t imagine if Kaito was as much of a constant target as KID. When he glances back down, Saguru notes that Conan has disappeared. He checks the crowd around him as discreetly as he can, but there’s no sign of Conan’s blue suit coat and brown hair.

Shit. Saguru had lost sight of perhaps the single most dangerous individual in the room. (He didn’t count Kaito among that. For one, Kaito wasn’t a violent person, and for two, he himself had made the rule that no one gets hurt.) Saguru quickly runs the possibilities in his mind and pinpoints the most likely place Conan has gone, and what route he’s taking to get there. He disregards the chaos of the task force and KID’s antics around him and b-lines for the roof. (He really wishes the building wasn’t so tall. It makes for a good take-off point for KID’s hang glider, but it is greatly aggravating to have to climb so many stories just to try and intercept a potentially unhinged seven year old before he catches up to Saguru’s international-jewel-thief friend.)

For all that he tries to hold out hope, Saguru expects it when he reaches the rooftop access door to find it already unlocked. He slowly inches the door open, listening for any indication of danger. KID’s shadows are as prone to rooftop confrontations as Conan-kun is. He hears Kaito’s voice, relaxed as can be; not that that means anything. Not when Kaito has spent most of his life practicing his poker face. When a familiar young voice responds, Saguru breathes a silent sigh of relief and opens the door just wide enough for him to slip through and onto the roof.

Before he can feel proud of himself for managing to open the heavy metal door and step through it so silently, the wind grabs the door and slams it shut. Ah, he forgot he had to be just as careful closing the door. KID’s and Conan’s attention snaps over to him, and he suppresses a grimace at having his mistake on display, especially given who his audience is.

“Conan-kun”, he greets civilly. His voice is decidedly less friendly, intentionally colder, when he speaks next. “KID.”

“Tantei-san! I’m flattered. Two of my favourite detectives, come to send me off!”

“As if, you damn thief!” Conan snaps. KID’s grin edges wider.

“Aww, no need to be embarrassed! It’s not like it’s a secret. Everyone knows you come to the roof after heists to say goodbye!”

“Idiot! Don’t twist things around!”

“I would never! I’m an honorable thief, Meitantei.”

“I thought Conan was Tantei-kun?” Saguru doesn’t register the oddness of the question until both Conan and KID turn to give him annoyed looks. “Since when has he been Meitantei?”

“Jealous, Tantei-san?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Aww, Tantei-san’s totally jealous! Don’t worry, I still like you better than Tantei-han.”

“That’s not-!”

“Seriously?!?” Conan interrupted Saguru’s attempt at defending himself, annoyance dripping heavily off his words. “If you must know, since the clock tower heist. Can we please get back on topic? You know, the stolen gem?”

“You were at the clock tower heist?” Conan’s glare was almost scarier than when Kaito acted innocent.

“Obviously!”

“Meitantei-” Conan either didn’t hear KID, or was choosing to ignore him, continuing as if the interruption hadn’t happened.

“Who did you think organized the police so effectively?”

“Kudo Shinichi.” Saguru didn’t stop to consider his answer. Nakamouri-san had gushed about that heist, and how Kudo-kun had saved the clock tower.

(Saguru was not blind to the fact that Kaito had saved it by holding the heist. It had been just another bit of proof that Kaito was KID to him, back then.)

“Exactly.” Conan seemed to think that explained everything, because the word was said with finality and he didn’t elaborate. Saguru was...missing something. He didn’t often miss things. He tilted his head softly to one side, thinking. What did Conan mean?

A high-pitched giggle drew Saguru’s attention on habit. Nothing good ever came of Kaito laughing like that.

“Careful, Kudo. You might break him.”

“What are you talking about, KID?” Kaito just smirked at the tiny detective, tilting his head towards Saguru.

“...Kudo?”

“What now?” Conan turned to him again, and Saguru hadn’t even noticed he’d started comparing Conan and Shinichi until he was realizing just how closely they resembled each other. Edogawa Conan...he couldn't be. There’s no way Edogawa Conan and Kudo Shinichi were the same person. It’s not possible.

(He was not pleased with the little voice that whispered a familiar Sherlock quote in his mind about impossibility and improbability.)

“Hakuba-san?”

“I did warn you, Meitantei.” The smugness in Kaito’s voice was all too familiar, and Saguru welcomed it. He needed something familiar and recognizable to give him ground to stand on amid the swirling possibilities.

“What are you talking about​?”

“I’m saying, you shouldn’t be so casual about revealing hidden identities.”

The silence that fell over the three of them was suffocating. Saguru observed Conan (Kudo?) closely, noting and cataloging his responses.

“I THOUGHT HE KNEW!”

“Why on earth would I know that​!?” Oh. That...was ruder than he’d meant to be.

“Didn’t KID tell you!?”

“I’m a magician, Tantei-kun, not a detective critic. I don’t go around exposing secrets.” Conan opened his mouth to retort, but snapped it shut. He scowled at KID for a moment, then huffed.

“Haibara is going to kill me. She was mad enough with you and Hattori finding out it was possible to shrink people back to childhood.”

“You better tell that little scientist friend of yours that I had nothing to do with this! I don’t need her after my head too.”

“Haibara...she’s that friend of yours, in your Detective Club. The quiet, mature one-” Saguru paused, repeating the words in his head. “Ah.” Conan groaned, holding his head in his hands and looking dejected.

“I’m dead when she finds out.” KID snickered, prompting a glare from the...the shrunken detective.

“This has been fun, detectives of mine, but I’m afraid I have to take my leave now!” Before either of them could react, KID had flung himself off the side of the building as his hang glider appeared from seemingly nowhere. A hiss of compressed air pulled Saguru’s attention back to Conan, who promptly kicked the newly-appeared soccer ball at the retreating thief. Saguru yelped as Kaito just barely dodged the high-speed projectile. He turned back to Conan with a hand pressed to his heart, trying to calm it’s frantic pace.

“Kudo-kun, please refrain from nearly killing people in future.” He half expected for the other to argue that a soccer ball wasn’t going to kill anyone.

The smirk, and lack of response, was not at all comforting.

Conan (Saguru figured it would be beneficial to stay in the habit of referring to him as such, lest he slip up and call him Kudo in front of people who didn’t know), turned and walked back towards the door to return inside without a word. His hand was on the door handle when Saguru called out.

“Wait!” Conan turned back to him, raising and eyebrow in question. “This, um, scientist friend of yours…” Conan groaned and threw his head back.

“I just know you two are going to get along, somehow.” The way he said it made that sound like a bad thing. Given both Kaito and Conan’s reactions to her, Saguru was somewhat hesitant to meet her himself. Still...he was a detective. Insatiably curious, Kaito said. Saguru chose to take it as a compliment. Before he could ask, Conan continued. “Still, better I introduce you, than that damn thief. I don’t want to give her more reasons to be furious with me.”

Saguru smiled.

Precisely four days and seventeen-point-two-eight-three hours later, Saguru stood beside Conan on the steps of Kudo’s neighbor’s house as one Haibara Ai glared at the two of them from the doorway.

“Haibara-san. I am Hakuba Saguru; it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The shrunken scientist raised one eyebrow, and Saguru got the impression that Conan had been right. They were going to get along just fine. (Kaito was going to hate that. Saguru didn’t bother to hide his smirk.)

[sagurus: ohhhhh my. :D Thanks so much for your patience while I took my time to respond/react to this. I have reread it a few times now and I seriously adore it. I think it's so fun how it has so many elements I've wanted to see in a fic. We have Saguru helping Kaito, we have him dealing with Conan, we have him finding out about Conan's identity! AND meeting Haibara. The fact that this is a mini gift astounds me. I love this so much, and it makes me so happy that you've written it! I also really love how much of a train wreck Conan accidentally exposing his own identity is. It was some great comedy, and I liked the way Kaito interacted in that scene too! Thanks SO much for writing this, again. I look forward to hearing more from you.]

[blushstarot]

hi, i saw your post on diety! if you want a more concrete yes/no answer, it might help to ask is the hesitancy coming from you or the deities?

i'll admit that i've never really initiated reaching out to gods bc of social anxiety and fear lol, but i sometimes sense deity energies around me without knowing anything at first.

for example, just yesterday i woke up at 5am out of the blue, and soon heard the first round of ceremony/celebration music coming from nearby temples. took a morning shower and went to the bookstore, kept picking up and putting down all sorts of different Taiwanese deity books (not the type of books i usually go for), but ultimately didn't read them. came home to a pilgrimage parade near the place i lived, got curious? and stopped to watch until it passed. did some bedtime instagram scrolling, saw a friend's story about the pilgrimage near her home. turned out it was 城隍爺's (the City God, a god that protects amd watches over people, especially those living in a village/cities, and also manages affairs of guiding the newly dead to afterlife) birthday and all my out of character decisions suddenly made sense.

i didn't even realize this until now, but he probably wanted to guide me on how to properly, politely, and safely contact the newly dead temporarily residing in his underworld, bc I uh, got mischievous some time ago and recklessly "descended into the underworld" to chat with someone's deceased dog 🤪 it's probably like illegally boarding a plane and entering places without visa, i did pay the fines in a low grade fever lol.

sorry for the tangent. the point is, i would've learned the knowledge the City God wishes to pass down to me had i let down my guard, overcame my socially awkward self, and just READ THAT BOOK. the avoidance and wariness yesterday was 100% mine, also some subconscious guilt i guess, because i did behave like a delinquent and trespassed 🤣🙈

it's alright tho! the City God isn't mad at me, and he's still trying to reach out to me by guiding me to this post. i'll def go read that book some other day when i feel called to.

i feel like it's very human to assume that deities or ancestors or spiritual beings are perpetually mad/frustrated with us for our eff ups, and then get wary around gods based on these assumptions, but these are usually just the ramblings of a harsh inner critic. the only reason that i can think of, if some deity is hypothetically hesitant about working with you, is that they sense an on duty! inner critic, so it's just not the right time and state to start doing diety work.

good luck on working with gods, it might not be easy peasy, 50% of the energy might be spent on clarifications, but deity work and fun are not mutually exclusive. it will always brings a real sense of fulfillment in the end 🍀

No but you are actually right. The second maybe was definitely more no leaning, which in hindsight it could be because there was definitely some hesitation from me about working with deities bc I don't consider myself good enough at readings to communicate with a literal god. But still there could be more to it, so I'll be sure to ask more about in my next reading. Also your story is wild, I really hope you are doing better after that fever lol.

I'm really glad that we ended up helping each other! 💕

[unseededtoast]

Turtle Doves | Joel Miller

Part Ten

Chapter Directory

Series Summary: In which two broken souls connect so deeply, that if one should perish, the other would surely die of a broken heart. (slow burn, timeline changes. After TLOU1, before TLOU2, assumed knowledge of infected, uses elements from both show and game)

Series Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, and sexual content.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted!

We continue on our route, leaving the cursed town behind us.

The shelf scrapes the floor with a loud squeal as we move it out of the way. Thankfully there are no infected around, otherwise this would have drawn all of them right to us. My body still aches from yesterday, and it'll probably continue to get worse today. Once the shelf is out of the way enough for us to squeeze through, we begin back on our route.

The morning sun is just barely peeking up over the horizon, meaning the air is still cool. I know it won't last long, so I savor it now. If my thoughts are correct, we should be passing through the town marked with a star within an hour or two. Something inside me is wary of this location, but the optimistic part of me is hoping that we find something useful.

As usual, our journey begins with more silence. If we're going to be going to Omaha together, I might as well start trying to break the silence to hopefully make him more comfortable talking to me. However, I will give him credit where it's due, he was rather talkative yesterday. Twisting my neck side to side, it cracks and relieves some pressure; and I wish the rest of my bones would do the same.

"Not as young as I used to be." I say as I try to get my back to crack. After trying two more times I give up and just accept that I'm going to be in pain. Joel lets out what sounds like a small laugh.

"You're tellin' me." He turns to face me, a faint trail of humor shown on his features.

"Finding a car would be nice." I say with a huff, thinking about the luxury of even the most run-down car. Joel nods his head,

"I guess you want a night at a five-star hotel too?" His humor catches me off guard, and I laugh at his joke. He looks ahead once more, focusing on our route.

"Hey if the opportunity comes around I wouldn't say no." The two of us fall into a silence once more, but this one feels comfortable and not forced, I don't feel like this one needs to be broken.

As Joel walks I notice how his shoulders aren't as tense as they have been the past few days. He doesn't make an effort to stay several paces ahead of me either. Maybe he's warming up to me after all, or maybe it's just the exhaustion. Tearing my eyes away from his figure, I look ahead and see the faint silhouette of buildings. That must be the place we're looking for.

"Look." I say and point out the buildings. Joel's eyes squint to see what I'm pointing at before he nods.

"Gettin' close. We should try to scope it out before we walk on up." He says, thinking tactfully.

"There are some trees off to the right, we could take cover in those." I spot a small area of trees off the road a ways up. The town is still rural enough to where it's not all concrete, there's still some traces of nature, unlike the QZ. He nods his head and changes our course so that we head for the trees.

Once we reach the woods, we both crouch down to muffle our footsteps. At first glance the town seems to be empty, but my instincts are telling me there's more than meets the eye here. There are several buildings that people could be hiding out in, and we would never know from this vantage point. Joel's eyes stay intensely focused on the town as I try to pick up on anything that suggests life.

After fifteen minutes of silent surveillance, I still can't find anything. Nudging Joel with my arm, I silently ask if he wants to move forward. His face looks apprehensive, but he ends up nodding. We cautiously make our way to the conglomerate of buildings through the woods. Though I'm not sure if anyone is here, going in this way is still our smartest bet.

I get to the edge of the woods first and crouch down again to check the surroundings. It's like a ghost town. But then again, it's still early enough that the occupants of this place might still be sleeping. I can't quite put my finger on it, but something just feels off. My head turns to Joel behind me,

"Something isn't right." My concerns come out as a whisper, and I wonder if he's picking up on the same thing. His eyes are narrowed, his eyebrows knitted together.

"Stay close, we go in quiet." He says and walks in front of me without another word. The curved knife finds its way in my grasp and I follow Joel out into the town, trying to keep my breathing calm and collected. We enter the town from the side, finding an alleyway to sneak down instead of taking the main road.

As we come to the end of the alleyway, my eyes land on a barrel sitting out in the middle of the main road. The black soot on the rim suggests to me that it might be a burn barrel. The windows of the buildings have all been boarded up, blocking our vision of any possible inhabitants. Carefully, Joel rounds the corner of the alley and we're out on the main road, sticking close to the front side of the building.

I see cars lined up at the end of the main street, almost like a makeshift barricade. Confirming my suspicions, I turn around and see a similar barrier on the other side of the main street. There's most definitely someone here. I tug on the back of Joel's shirt and point to the cars, seeing his face darken as he reaches the same conclusion as me.

Before we have time to duck back down the alley, a door opens across the street from us. Three men walk out lazily. My body freezes in place and I watch with wide eyes how the men turn left and go away from us. The men all look very unkempt. Their hair is long and stringy, their clothes tattered and worn. I'm willing to bet they've been out here a while.

Joel grabs my hand and pulls me into the building we're standing in front of. The space is dark, and I can barely see in front of me. But I do see a shadow move behind Joel. As my eyes adjust to the dim light, I swear I see something duck down behind the counter.

My grip on my knife gets tighter, and my elbow nudges Joel again. His head whips over to me, and I just silently point to the counter. From the looks of it, this place must have been some sort of diner. There are tables scattering the floorspace and an old menu board hangs crooked on the wall.

Keeping my footsteps silent is my top priority as we go towards the counter. Joel walks in front of me, his own knife secure in his palm. I try my best to listen for movement on the other side of the counter, but I hear nothing. However, Joel rounds the corner of the counter and I hear scurrying. Peeking around the corner, I see a man in the arms of Joel, being placed into a headlock. Too stunned to move, I watch as Joel chokes the man out until his body goes limp. Joel leaves the body and we continue our way to clear the rest of the building.

As we go deeper into the building I see several sleeping bags on the floor and supplies scattered on shelves. My hands grab what I can hold and shove the supplies into my bag. Luckily, it seems like nobody else is in this building. Unfortunately, that means they're probably all lurking out there somewhere. Once we're in the kitchen area of the diner, I whisper to Joel,

"What's the plan here?" I have a good idea of what the plan probably is, but if we're both certainly on the same page, then there's less of a chance that I make a wrong move.

"We take what we find and kill who we have to." He replies nonchalantly, like this is nothing new for him. And truthfully, this might be a regular occurrence for him. If that's the case, then I should be thankful he's here with me, and not against me. I nod my head and we continue moving.

Joel opens the back door to the diner so that we're in a back alley, not the main road. There's a door slamming across the street, followed by several voices. They all sound like men to me. I swallow my nerves and focus on the task at hand; surviving. I follow Joel closely as we move into another building, seeming to be some sort of old hobby store.

"Yeah man, he told me he was going on patrol today. Fucker keeps getting all the good shit." A voice loudly speaks as the front door opens. Joel ducks behind a shelf and I'm forced to take cover behind a display case.

"Would be a damn shame if he came back and all his shit was gone." Another gruff voice speaks. They're getting closer to us. The metal of the knife's hilt digs into my palm and I prepare myself for what has to happen. My eyes stay trained on Joel, waiting for his signal to move since he has the better vantage point.

Heavy footsteps fall just in front of the display case I'm behind, and a hand slams on the top of it, making me jump. The man's hand is large, dirty, and thicky callused.

"You know there would be hell to pay. Crazy bastard would kill us all to find his stuff and you know it." My breathing is shallow. Joel slowly motions for my to stay calm and I nod, showing him that I'm not going to do anything rash. He turns around and throws something, causing a clashing in the front of the store.

"The hell?" One of the men say, but only one of them moves to check it out. The hand on the display case stays put.

"What is it?" The man in front of me asks, his hand finally moving off the case.

There's no reply, they must be skeptical of something. Only the soft sound of footsteps can be heard, but I can't really tell where they're at. My breath catches in my throat as I see a leather boot step in front of me. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I make eye contact with the man, and he looks startled.

"There's a woman over here!" He yells out as I lunge forward with my knife. I catch the man's abdomen with the blade's curve and he cries out in pain, doubling over. My hand goes back to wind up another strike, but the injured man stands to his full height and grabs my arm. Thinking quickly, I drop the knife from my incapacitated hand and catch it with my free one, and I waste no time in slashing the man's arm, cutting it wide open with the sharp edge.

The man puts up a fight, but he's losing too much blood too quickly, and soon he falls over. There will be more coming after his tip off, and so I move towards Joel, who took down the second man without any issue. The two of us go to leave through the back of the hobby store, the way we came in, but there's something wrong with the door's lock and it won't budge.

"Shit." Joel grumbles as he tries to force the door open, but to no avail. In the front part of the store, the door opens and there's several people that come rushing in. They're all shouting incoherently and causing chaos in the small space. Joel and I split away once more, trying to hide the best we can.

Luckily I had reloaded my gun just outside of Boston, the night Joel found his stash in the store. So I know I have bullets if I need them. However, if I can use stealth to my advantage, I'm going to do that over wasting bullets on live people.

I try to tuck my body closely underneath the clerk's counter, but my bag is just a little too bulky for me to be able to fit all the way in. The approaching men round the corner and one of them spots me right off the bat. Two men come at me and before I can reach for my gun, they're on me.

Wildly, I slash my knife back and forth, trying to fend them off. They keep backing off quickly to dodge the blade, but one of them moves too fast. He tackles me to the ground, my knife falls from my hand. I reach for my gun in a last ditch effort, but my hands are pinned above me. Across the store I hear gunshots ring out and I can only hope they're Joel's.

I use my legs to try to throw the man off of me, but he's too big. His hips hold my torso down and he's got a sick grin on his face.

"Look what we got here boys!" He announces as I struggle to get free from him. I thrash and twist my body in any way that I can, but it's no use. Soon, another man's face hovers over top of me, his face full of curiosity and perverted thoughts. He licks his lips and smiles before he speaks to my captor.

"Oh she's a pretty one too. Whole team can have fun with her for weeks." He claps my captor on the back and my body is frozen to the ground, no longer able to put up a fight. Hot tears stream from my eyes and the man standing above me crouches down, his finger wiping the tears. Instinctually, my body flinches away from his touch.

"Awe don't cry now hun, we're gonna take care of you." He says sickly sweet before moving out of my field of vision. The gunshots on the other end of the store still ring out, and I hear what I think is a body hitting the floor. My chest heaves up and down in a panic as I feel someone's hands on my hips.

"She's armed to the teeth, look at all this." I feel my hunting knife being taken out of its holster and my gun is tossed from my thigh. My captor chuckles and looks down at me, his black eyes raking over my body while the other man disarms me. If he didn't have to keep my hands pinned to the ground, I fear to imagine what he'd be doing to me.

With no more weapons on me, the hands drift to the button of my jeans to undo it. I try to thrash and kick and fight back to get them off of me, but I think it only makes them more excited. My captor laughs as I sob, the man behind him trying to tug my jeans down.

Suddenly, the hands are gone from my hips and a shot rings in my ears. My captor whips around and I see a bullet go right between his eyes. The man's full body weight falls on top of me, making it even more difficult to breathe. Luckily, the weight is moved off of me and I go to hit whoever is coming for me next.

My swinging fists are caught and I'm looking into familiar brown eyes. It takes a moment to register that it's Joel looking back at me. His eyes are wide and there's blood splattered on his face.

"They're gone, they're gone. It's okay." His voice tries to soothe me but I can't stop the sobs that come through me. He lets go of my fists and I lay on the ground, staring at the ceiling as if my body had become permanently bonded to the linoleum underneath me.

After a few fleeting moments, my breathing has started to level out, though the tears continue to fall. I muster up all the strength I have and sit myself up, quickly redoing the button of my jeans with trembling fingers. My dirty hand wipes my nose and I gather my weapons, putting them all in the correct places.

Without another word I stand to my feet and stumble out of the store. I hear Joel behind me as I turn the corner of the store and get sick in the alleyway. My hands are on my knees to support me as my body ejects whatever was in my stomach. Ragged breaths shake me and I close my eyes, trying to calm myself.

When I find it within myself to open my eyes, I turn around and see Joel standing away from me, a concerned look on his face. I readjust the straps of my backpack and wipe my mouth on my shirt.

Though I would love nothing more than to get out of here, I still have to search these buildings and the corpses for anything useful.

I go building by building and search all that I can. Some buildings have canned goods, others are full of old shoes, old clothes, and other old items. It looks like they used these buildings for anything and everything, there's no organization to this chaos.

As I walk to the last building, I see Joel going through the corpses in the store we were just ambushed in. He's checking their pockets and taking their ammo. With quiet gratitude, I focus back on clearing this building so we can get out of here.

I open all the drawers and go through the shelves, only to find a deck of playing cards. There's nothing useful here. My hands grip the edge of the counter and I close my eyes in an attempt to keep my composure. If we went through all of that for nothing, there will be no words to describe my anger.

Joel comes back out to the street and I meet up with him, still sniffling. He offers me a small smile and tilts his head,

"Ready to get out of here?" He asks and I nod.

We continue on our route, leaving the cursed town behind us. The day is still young, so we have the rest of daylight to travel. Hopefully we get as far away from here as possible. My eyes stay trained on the road below me, and I count my steps to keep my mind occupied on anything except what just happened in that town. For once I'm thankful for Joel's silent nature.

Part Eleven

[kiwisandpearls]

Honestly no one will see this post because no one is following me or cares about me on this website but after reading and replying to this post I might as well air out my own feelings on the whole Maretu situation to help organize my own thoughts on the whole thing, cause it’s been swirling through my head and I’ve had conflicted thoughts about the whole thing.

just to make things, clear this whole situation happened back in 2017, so around 6 years ago. I’m saying this because I don’t wanna make it seem like I’m trying to reopen an old wound nor do I wanna lead people to believe this situation happened like…yesterday, this whole post is just me airing my own thoughts about Maretu after learning about the situation. And this post is made in mind that you know the situation that happened.

also like this is obvious but if you don’t care for Maretu, vocaloid, or just are looking through my blog for my art and fics you can just ignore this post, it doesn’t really pertain to anything else I do for this blog.

I’m feeling…conflicted. What Maretu did was wrong yes, but I just generally don’t know enough about the situation and I kinda don’t want to know more about this situation. That’s not me saying I don’t want to hear anything negative about Maretu and just wanna hear positives, that’s me saying I’ve looked into the situation enough as is and it was pretty exhausting for me.

I don’t wanna act like Maretu never did or can’t do anything bad or wrong but I also wanna take everything I’ve learned with a grain of salt, obviously some of it is true but I do think some people are dramatizing what happened and kinda playing a game of broken telephone when they talk about what happened…? If that’s the best way of putting it?

I get people who despise Maretu and don’t wanna associate with him after learning about what happened, but I also kinda get those who just wanna look past what he did and continue to listen to his music. Me personally, I’ll be wary of him (Maretu) and I won’t see him as the best person in the world, but I won’t be making any assumption of the type of person he is (nobody should do that to anybody without any concrete proof obviously tho) and I still will be listening to his music, because even if Maretu does turn out to be a bad person, I still do think he’s a good artist, has good songs and also because, some of his songs do mean a bit to me personally (like SIU and White Happy).

But yeah that’s all I have to say, even though like… -1 people will be seeing this lol, in that case I probably just made this post to organize my own feelings on Maretu.

(Maybe I could take solace in knowing that since the 6 years that this has happened Maretu doesn’t seem to have done anything since?…that we know of. I really hope this statement doesn’t age like milk)