#i wish i didn't feel so alone

[sobbing-space-trash]

Maybe if I sob for a little bit I'll be okay????

[confessedlyfannish]

Writing Prompt #12

Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.

Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.

Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.

While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.

These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".

There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—

"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.

But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.

He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.

"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.

"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.

"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.

He doesn't look away from the man.

"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."

"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.

The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.

The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"

Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."

"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."

He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.

"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.

"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.

"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."

"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.

"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."

"Him."

"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."

"Why me?"

"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."

This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.

"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"

"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."

Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."

"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."

"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."

"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."

"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."

"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.

"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.

"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."

"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."

"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."

Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.

Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.

"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."

The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.

"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.

"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."

"I have more than one."

"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."

"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"

There is a pause.

"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."

"Resolve what?"

"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."

"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."

Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."

The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."

"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."

"They will have already muzzled him."

Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.

"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."

"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—

Clack!

"sluuuuurp!"

"Master Timothy, honestly!"

"Sorry Alfred!"

[arthursfuckinghat]

Thinking about Arthur's visions. How Arthur saw the stag, and saw it many times. It appeared in his dreams, in his thoughts, and even before his very eyes.

He saw it, undeniably, and it saw him too.

But he never told anyone about the stag, he never wrote about it, and never spoke to it. He didn't need to.

Something that couldn't be put into words was said in those silent exchanges, something we'll just never know.

[coffeebanana]

having thoughts about the marinette and nathalie hug because like.

my god.

marinette's just had her world turned inside out

she's just a kid and how's she supposed to carry all this alone and what is she supposed to do and what does she tell adrien?

and then, suddenly, there's someone there to share the burden. an adult. someone who has a reputation for getting things done

so maybe, just this once, everything doesn't have to balance on marinette's shoulders alone

but it's nathalie--who, sure, adrien obviously cares about. but not someone marinette's at all close to. certainly not someone she probably thinks of as warm or parental or even very trustworthy. maybe marinette's even started to put the pieces together--if gabriel was monarch, then mayura must have been...??

those doubts seem insignificant when she actually sees nathalie

the last time marinette saw her, she was dying. and now marinette knows what gabriel wished for--at least some of it. she knows he did one good thing in the end. that he finally, to some degree, put adrien first

then another horrible truth dawns on marinette: nathalie doesn't know--of course she was aware gabriel was dying, but she still doesn't know he's dead

marinette's probably already thought up a hundred different ways she might break the news to adrien--even if she discarded them all just as quickly. she hasn't thought at all about breaking the news to nathalie

what's she supposed to say? however complicated things were in the end, gabriel was obviously someone nathalie cared about

marinette struggles to find the words, but nathalie just knows. she already suspected, because how would she be here if gabriel was as well? and now the truth's written all over marinette's face

it's not just marinette who needs that hug--though nathalie would probably never admit it, which is why it's marinette who's running to her

how many weeks has adrien been gushing to nathalie about marinette? about how she's so creative and strong and compassionate and full of love

and in that moment, nathalie understands

[orionsangel86]

.

[supjello]

"Your son?" "My apprentice, but I think of him like a son."

[citnamora]

You ever have those two characters where the thought of them dating makes you sick to your stomach and the idea of them getting married turns you off completely from enjoying the media they're in? Because I do.

[canisonicscrewyou]

people on t /etc who feel that their facial hair is too light for their liking: just for men is not a difficult product to use and is like $15 and comes in many shades and is worth trying, just get or steal a spoolie brush too, don't use the brush they give you. brown mascara or eyebrow gel is also wonderful. (<- even to test run before dyeing, but either of those options will also make the hair look slightly less fine too.) even if you think your facial hair is too patchy to try or your mustache is too fine or whatever. trust me. trust me.

[silveredsound]

How you go from harry styles to hockey I will never understand.

I was going to make a little joke, as I do, (would have been v hilarious, best joke ever pls know this) and leave it at that. But like, it's been raining for over 24 hours, it's 2am and it might be good for me to reflect a little.. So sorry anon I am going emote all over your ask (which (the ask) sounds a bit judgey tbh but the written word is NOT a great conveyor of tone so that might be on me.)

On one hand it's just fandom. And, I think it's been pretty clear that as much as I love Henry Stars, I'm not like, a 'Harry is the be all and end all of all music creation and creativity and actions.' I like him for the good and the bad, and I don't leave critical thinking at the door. (Not saying I'm the only person to do this, just that it's hard sometimes in fan spaces and Stans definitely do..)

Which, can make it hard to participate in fandom as a lot of people are not great at irony, or accepting that someone else can say, god damn that is a terrible song - and that it's okay for that to happen. It doesn't mean that the person who expressed the neg opinion is not still a fan of the artist they were speaking about. Same with if the artist you are a fan of does something that gives you the ick.

I def learnt this when Harry went to Google Camp the first time. Like obviously I've been around 1d fandom in some way since 2012 ish I think it was - and it was my own reaction to Harry going to Camp Douchebags the first time that made me go, oh jeez Silv, you are a bit too involved in the parasocial relationship here. Like I was genuinely upset that he'd done something I thought was so dumb and wanky.

Anyway, clearly I still loved - love - him and I celebrated him and spent a fuckload of money on him and engaged in fandom and etc etc. But I just did at that point I think turn a little from heading in a very blinkers on version of fandom to one that's def more me - where you just get to have fun, make fun be creative, make friends! and have a bit of a perv depending on the silk cream vanilla ice cream outfit Harry might be wearing in Nashville.

I like RPF. I mean I like all transformative works and fandom extending and enhancing source material via creation, but I don't have an issue with RPF. I believe in 4th wall. And I clearly have written 1d fic. A lot of my good fandom mates, and real life best friend(s) are people I have met through sharing a love of writing in fandom spaces. Obviously all the best writers in 1d went to Hockey. And I stayed here. And I tried. I wanted to be where my friends where. I had fomo and I was lonely! My fandom had changed in a few ways all around the same time.

But Hockey is very confusing, (for starters as I often say to Angela or Joanna, snow is fake) and nothing clicked for me - it seemed large and I had no idea where to even start and I didn't really try.

But I think the change in some fandom fellow participants, and also anons being mean when they would get even a glimpse in their peripheral that I might have vaguely indicated that Henry did something that I thought was dumb or embarrassing, or just not that good, (it's no fun sharing a thought and feeling chatty about it, and wanting to engage with other people's thoughts if some random is going to anonymously tell you that you are a dumb c*nt and should delete etc etc so I stopped sharing any thoughts at all.) Of course Nick leaving breakfast and then R1 altogether - as well as obviously my whole life narrowing to a point that was just tend Mama- work - tend mama - work - tend mama - sleep - grow a tumour - tend mama left me not so much time for proper joyful engagement.

And then, in Jan/Feb this year, I think as I'd been looking at book reviews and as soon as you search for a book on tik tok they push book tok romance reviews into your feed and I think then that pushed an actual hockey clip (which is a really shite 4th wall issue as is the whole Kraken thing etc) and I can't even remember what it was but I know I then swiped through and watched other videos on the account and like 1d being adorable shites repeating stock answers and sitting on top of each other I was intrigued by what seemed to be very dumb and very entertaining.

But Silv, you cry, what about the emotions! You need emotions! Ah, yes, see, because I am nothing but devoted I had followed Angela and La's hockey blogs, and something La posted grabbed my attention and I followed a link and read an article and I was like. Oh, I want to read more about these kids. So I did. And after a little while I reached out to La and was like, um, I think I get it. And I posted something about the Fantilli Bros and then Max reached out and tbh I don't think anything says it better than my wide eyed enthusiasm reply. (You are probably by now thinking, Silv why is your answer to Max so short, why didn't I just get a paragraph? This is an endless essay with no conclusion or indeed a thesis statement, (that is if you have even made it down to here) & anon I can only apologise.)

I am really enjoying learning so many new things, being welcomed into a new space of connection and joy and silliness and emotional breakdowns. It's been so lovely to meet new people who are so excited to share their niche interest with you and no one minds how many questions I have and everyone searches out Primera and Important Past Instagram Posts from the archives - and of course reconnecting with people who I have always been friends with, fandom changes didn't change that, but it's delightful chatting much more often. The other day Angela and I watched an Avs game together via Tumblr chats, which was delightful, to learn about the team and to talk about random other things, and I've spent my last month of Saturdays watching umich with lovely people who La introduced me to, and having MANY EMOTIONS. (It's like hanging out all posting about a show's fits and one liners and if he's going to sing medicine but it's many pantomime gooseberrys. The performative homoeroticisim, wild hair, jokes, punching (only now during not pre show work outs ) and very goddamn impressive skill and physicality is actually pretty similar). Meghan and I have been able to chat through our very similar horrible experiences with cancer and mums with cancer and it's been so lovely and strengthening to be able to share that experience with a person who beyond gets it, and then also I've been able to announce to her that I want to write a fic about 5 ways Nolan saw god with the UMich Bible Study Group but didn't find faith. which is obviously a completely ridiculous concept but equally worthy of discussion. It's this that I love so much about fandom friendship - you share SO much because you are sharing something that gives you intimate joy, so the relationship always starts from a place of an automatic mutual understanding and empathy - and from there we make it our own.

But also, I really like the game. Like I love watching them play, all of them! It's fast (obviously - and oblig have to say - ice is slippery) and it's hard - and they make it look easy. When one of the special players (they are all special, but one of the ones who play almost with innate ability) makes a pass or a turn sometimes it's almost almost magic, like how the fuck did they see that gap between four players, and did you see how they kept the puck a moment longer so they could release it perfectly into the lane !! Hot.

The game can be all encompassing and it's SO SO SO silly. Like it's the dumbest sport. It's The Show. I'll put on ESPN and stream a match while I'm working during the day (the time difference is perfect for once) and I'm spending time cos I want to, learning the rules and the logistics and business side of it all. And of course, the differences between college hockey and the show. Idk. It just clicked on so many levels for me.

And so, I have no idea why it took me so long to transition from Henry to Hockey, but I am not surprised I did now that I have - it def wasn't something that I was bloody expecting. And Anon I will say this, the last few years of my life have been sad, hard, and tbh shitty. Now, I know what it's like to have fucked years, so I am not saying this to try to be and show off but 2024 feels a bit better. I feel clearer, I have started to lose some weight (15ish kg so far depending on the time of the month) and now I have a meeting w a PT on Tuesday as I actually don't care what I weigh but I want to get stronger and reduce my visceral fat as it will be better for hormones which is better for lessening my cancer reoccurrence %.

God knows it's (2024) not all roses, I literally had surgery again a fortnight ago and the cost of living in Sydney is giving me so much anxiety. I am still a terribly disorganised mess, my work is undergoing a complete restructure (thanks NSW gmnt) and my clean washing is NEVER folded and put away, it's always in the basket - but I feel so happy and entertained and creative - I am writing again! like it's joy. It's ye olde you are who you are at this moment but you are also the 4 year old you and the 15, 27, 34 year old you - girlhood (non gendered concept of not literal interpretation) and I love it. 💛🩵🌱

[coquelicoq]

reading the posts of your rewatch of the double (or so i assume), and being Vastly Entertained XD would you ever consider making a post on your top 5 favorite outfits from the show?

ahaha this is a funny thing to be asked because i pay almost no attention to costumes...really wish i did but it's one of those things that my brain totally glosses over. other people will write insanely thoughtful costume meta practically off the cuff (no pun intended) and i'm like, i'm...pretty sure they were wearing clothes?? i WILL however tell you the top three moments in which i noticed an outfit and you can make of that what you will!

three. wanning's outfit that she's wearing when she kills her dad, SPECIFICALLY because of the sleeve flip she does as she's walking away. CHILLING. obviously i didn't notice her outfit before that, and i still could not tell you anything about it such as what color it was or, like, fabric or idk pattern? embroidery?? i know it had sleeves though.

two. shen yurong's robe (again i don't know what it looks like) that time that wanning collapses to the floor and tells him not to touch her after he tells her to marry li jin. the way he stands over her shaking out his sleeves in slomo!!!! goosebumps.

one. xiao heng's fuckoff cape ensemble at the guqin exam. THE STRUT MAKES THE MAN. he's 100% channeling the party don't start till i walk in and everybody knows it including me. even if i had had no self-awareness about my own lack of attention to costumes before watching this, seeing gifsets of his outfits on tumblr is what would have made me realize, because apparently he wears this outfit at earlier points in the show but i didn't make any note of it until this scene (and even then, i thought it was a brand new outfit and didn't recognize it from earlier scenes). the whole buildup with him getting dressed in slomo with layers billowing artistically and his bodyguards commenting on how long it was taking, then the dramatic entrance...i sat up in my chair. you got my attention. it's all about the attitude for me. i knew he was wearing clothes in his earlier scenes but that's the one scene where he's wearing Clothes. hope that makes sense!

honorable mention goes to the cloak that xiao heng wraps around xue fangfei's shoulders that one time she's drunk in the rain because i've not been able to stop thinking about it even after finishing my rewatch. facts: 1) he has also been standing in the rain. 2) that cloak is soaking wet. 3) fabric saturated in water is heavy. 4) he puts this heavy wet thing on her and thinks that he's helping but this is the best part: 5) he then picks her, wearing the sodden cloak, up in a bridal carry, thus adding to the weight that he has to carry in his arms instead of distributing it more sensibly across his shoulders. and again it is not actually keeping her dry. congratulations little buddy that's the worst you could have done it 👍

[spielzeugkaiser]

Is milek an alpha, beta, or omega in this universe? also sorry if this has already been asked but does he get anything special from being half witcher or is it just cats hate him now

Ohhh, good question! That might be a topic later, because Milek has not presented yet (I go with typical omegaverse there, but kind of. Slower? Basically like another puberty added on). His secondary gender is still at question, and...

He's very conflicted. He feels guilty. He worries about Jaskier feeling rejected, or like he is somehow lesser, but... Milek doesn't want to be an omega, if he's completely honest. He has seen how is father is treated, what was expected of him at times - and he knows it's all bullshit, his father is kind and strong, intelligent and independent! But still, he's a little bit scared, and Jaskier should be here for this, and he feels really bad for feeling like this.

The witcher genes haven't helped Milek that much so far! He mostly got a fucked up immune system, his body doesn't react well to the mutations.

[bylertruther]

y'all moved on but i literally still can't believe this is real life. what the fuck. spread ur wings, mr schnapp... sniffling, crying, weeping bc i am so full of Joy... not 2 be corny but it's always a lovely thing when someone steps into the light n lives their truth... when they feel safe and loved enough by those in their life that they feel they can and genuinely want to share this part of themselves with the world... mr schnapp who has played will byers for such a big part of his life and explored his own self and come to terms with who he is at the same time that will has... will, who means so much to so many and has such a realistic journey that we seldom get to see, especially in such mainstream media, literally the biggest show in the world... just so moved that he went from being scared in the closet to feeling so loved and at peace that he would share this part of himself with the world in such a silly, light-hearted, and entirely noah way, always so true to himself and full of light... i just. 🥺 a lot of feelings are being felt rn. good for him!! GOOD FOR HIM!!!!! 💗🏳️‍🌈🫂

[eruditegeek]

I feel so disconnected all the time.

[problemswithbooks]

BNHA 423

So, I can't say I feel much of anything reading this weeks leaks.

I'm not shocked that Shigaraki died, nor would I be surprised if his death is taken back next chapter and he gets brought back to life in some way.

The thing is despite people saying Shigaraki dying messes with the themes of the story the themes have always been more then a little shaky. IDK if it's just a difference in culture, but Hori has a way of setting something up as being a big deal/theme and then doing something that completely contradicts it.

It's really no surprise he might have killed off most of the villains including Shigaraki despite setting the story up in a way where saving villains seemed to be a theme. He did the same thing with self-sacrifice being portrayed as bad, but later showing it as good.

I will say I don't necessarily agree with how some people are framing Shigaraki's death as throwing abuse victims under the bus. I do get the frustration because Hori did focus a lot of how Shigaraki was used by AfO and in a lot of stories that would be used to absolve him of guilt for all the destruction he caused. But Hori never had Shigaraki change his mind. His last words are him continuing to wish he could have destroyed more and wanting Izuku to relay to Spinner he never stopped fighting for destruction.

I think if this had been a more thought out and focused story you really could make it a great tragedy. It feels unfair that he couldn't be saved, that despite Izuku's effort, at the end of the day Shigaraki wasn't able to break away from the destruction he was manipulated and groomed into believing.

In that way I can understand the anger of some fans, because the story is essentially a tragedy framed as a simply triumphant narrative. It always felt like it wanted to have some deep meaning, and always seemed on the verge of it, but never stuck the landing. The one thing I've always been left wondering is: what is Hori trying to say with this story?, and IDK if the ending, given what's on the page right now will really give me an answer.

If anything I think perhaps Hori was trying to say to much at once. I'm sure a lot of it gets lost in translation and cultural differences, still part of me thinks he bit off more then he could reasonably flesh out. Thinking back many writing choices feel like he had an idea or passing thought and added it because it was cool or thought he'd have time to do more with it latter but due to shitty writing conditions couldn't implement properly.

[doveotion]

genuinely didn't think I'd make it to 18 let alone 22 so now I'm looking around like..... Now What

[oh-meow-swirls]

it's kind of weird to me that they didn't bother releasing sushi and tempura internationally at all but at the same time i'm kinda glad they didn't cuz like. yo-kai watch was financially failing in the west by the time 3 released. i feel like if they had released sushi and tempura the franchise would've completely tanked before we got sukiyaki which would've sucked. honestly if anything i feel like it's more surprising that we got all three versions of 2 instead of them just releasing psychic specters but tbf i think yo-kai watch was doing well in the west when 2 released. 2 is just inexplicably what killed the franchise despite being a masterpiece-