#the only time we ever even agree to something for another alter is if it is easily reversalble

[such-expensive-mistakes]

Superpham AU (part 7)

Masterpost

A short one today, but I thought this section was funny (until it got sad again).

-----

It’s a quiet evening in the Lane-Kent household: Lois is trying to turn her notes into an article, Clark is going over Jon’s math homework, and Jon is watching a show Lois is only half-following.  It features lots of gunfire and explosions, though Lois’s— unfortunately extensive— experience with witnessing real violence makes the version on TV look cartoonish.  She suspects that is part of the show’s appeal.

Danny is paying about as much attention to the TV as Lois is, engrossed in something on his phone.  At least he’s in the same room as the rest of them, instead of sequestering himself away.

“Hey Lois?” Danny suddenly asks.

Lois looks up from her work.  “What’s up?”

“Did you know the internet thinks you’re Superman’s girlfriend?”

Lois knows that if she looks at Clark, he’ll be turning red, the way he always does whenever this particular subject comes up.  Lois herself is barely holding back a laugh.  Jon’s wrinkling his nose, looking thoroughly embarrassed by his parents.

“Well, I am,” she says, barely keeping herself composed.

“No, I mean—” Danny begins.

“You mean people say that I’m dating Superman and married to Clark?”  Lois glances at Clark, who is now hiding his face in his hands.  “Someone forgot to check for cameras after rescuing me a few years back, and we got caught kissing on film.  It was let people think Superman is a homewrecker or let them think I’m in a polyamorous relationship with my husband and his alter ego.”  

“That’s… really weird.”  Danny is giving her the kind of judgmental look only teenagers can give.  

Lois does laugh at that.  “It is, a bit.  But it helps protect Clark’s secret identity, so I don’t mind.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Clark finally says.  “There were other ways to handle that situation; she just thinks this is funny.”

“Even your parents think it’s funny,” Lois says.  Clark just sighs, faux-aggrieved.  

“It’s not even the weirdest thing on the internet about Superman,” Danny says.  “It’s just the weirdest thing everyone agrees is true.”

“Please do not tell me what else you’ve found,” Clark says.  

“You can tell me,” Lois says.  “We can just make Clark leave for a bit.”  Reading conspiracy theories about Superman is her guilty pleasure, though if anyone asks, she does it to keep tabs on anyone who might have a viable way of hurting him.  

Danny just laughs, and something in Lois’s chest seizes up.  Is this the first time she’s heard him laugh since he came back?  She thinks it might be.

She doesn’t want to call attention to it; like as not, that would just make him pull away again.  Instead she says, “Superman doesn’t even get the best conspiracy theories.  Those are all Batman.”  That’s because Bruce purposefully cultivates them, of course, but that’s not important.

“Which one is he, again?” Danny asks.  

It’s not that Lois ever forgets that Danny has spent most of his life in another dimension.  But little offhand comments like that… they really drive it home.  There are plenty of superheroes, even Justice League members, that most of the general public has never heard of— but Batman is not one of them.

She's saved from answering by Clark.

"You'll meet him eventually," Clark says.  "He's a good friend of mine.  And Jon and Kon are close to his two youngest sons, Robin and Red Robin."

Danny nods thoughtfully.  "Right.  I think Red Robin's in the group chat Kon added me to."

Lois reminds herself to thank Kon next time she sees him.  He and Danny seem to have connected, and Kon seems to have made it his personal mission to keep Danny from slipping too far into one of his funks again.

"Speaking of Kon," Clark begins.  "Ma and Pa want to know when we'll be able to make it to Smallville to visit."

They've been trying not to overwhelm Danny by introducing him to too many new people at once, but maybe that was the wrong choice.  Maybe they should be pushing him to get out more, to connect with this dimension.  Besides, Kon spends most of his time in Smallville, and they already know that he and Danny get along.

Lois re-evaluates the article she’s been working on.  Perry would probably appreciate it sooner rather than later, but if she turns in a smaller article this week, she can probably swing a weekend off.  If not, she can always work on it from Kansas.

“This weekend should work,” Lois says.  “If that’s alright with you, Danny.”

Danny looks a little surprised to be consulted.  “I— yeah, that works.  Not like I have anywhere else to be.”  He laughs a little, but the joke falls flat, and Lois resolves to double down on helping Danny connect with more people here in this dimension.

[bloodymisanthropist]

I've never seen anyone else address this, so I'm finally doing so. The ending of season 2 has always bothered me. Not because of Ciel's transformation, or Sebastian being forever in his servitude (ordinarily that would be the ideal ending, preferable to Ciel's death and Sebastian simply moving on,) but because of Ciel's demeanor and attitude. It feels extremely out of character for me.

In the final episode Ciel is very obviously smug about "outsmarting" Sebastian, silently lording his perceived victory over him. However, that wasn't Ciel's victory, or his plan. That was all Alois and Hannah. I have always felt that in actuality, Ciel would be livid. He is most likely the only human Sebastian's ever encountered who fully accepted his fate, the terms of the contract, and never tried to escape or worm his way out of it at the last moment. Remember, in the season one finale, Ciel actually seemed to be at peace for the first time we've ever seen him. He was content with Sebastian taking his soul. And he would have done so with no resistance on Ciel's part, had Claude not intervened.

Ciel had once had a very clear vision of his future, of what he had planned, agreed to. I think he would he angry, panicked at having the proverbial rug pulled out from under him. He did not consent to being granted immortality (ordinarily, I think Ciel would find the very concept of immortality rather dreadful, a prison. He would not find it remotely worth it unless he had someone or something that made it worth living. Forever is an incomprehensibly long time.) He had made peace with his fate, dying an early death, and I believe part of him would have even found comfort in it. Once his revenge was realized, as far as he knew Ciel would have nothing to live for. He never would have been content in a one-sided farce of a marriage with Lizzy, playing domestic, living a dull, grey life and performing the role, the duties expected of him. And as far as I'm concerned, Ciel is completely unaware of the depth of Sebastian's feelings towards him. Ciel isn't even trusting of other humans, with good reason. He would find it unbelievably foolish and naive to fully trust a demon. Ironically, Sebastian is the one whom he both trusts the most and the least. Ciel, logically, wouldn't even think one like Sebastian to be capable of deeper feelings, of truly caring for another, let alone love.

As we know, Ciel is a strategist. His current life, every action, is centered around thorough planning. He is not prone to whimsy and spontaneity (although he can act spontaneously when the situation calls for it.) He finds comfort and familiarity, grounding in having a plan, being several steps ahead of those around him. Having a plan for his life's path, knowing where the journey would end, would have been vital to his sense of stability. He would absolutely not appreciate having someone interfere the way Hannah did, altering the course of his life irreversibly.

I also believe Ciel would be indignant on Sebastian's behalf. Ciel would *want* to reward Sebastian for his loyalty, for being his sole confidant, for saving him and affording him a second chance to pursue his revenge, being there when God had abandoned him, Sebastian going above and beyond the call of duty for *him.* He truly would honour his word, at least in that. He would be angry that Sebastian was stripped of what he had rightfully earned. Demon or no, Sebastian is the only one who has never, can never betray him, whom can know his secrets, the depths of his depravity.

So, for these reasons, the ending has always rubbed me the wrong way. The only way I can retcon it in my mind in a way that would make any sort of sense is if Ciel is in fact angry and upset, afraid of a now unknown, murky future - yet due to his pride and his fear of vulnerability, of being perceived as weak, he would display a false sense of bravado, of security, acting like he had played a hand in his fate and was in control of the situation.

I'm interested in others' thoughts on this, if anyone agrees.

[myownwritings]

One-(p)up - Lance Stroll

lance stroll x fem!girlfriend!reader

Summary: it's your boyfriend's birthday, and you have to think of a perfect idea to one-up his birthday gift to you, except… you somehow forgot his birthday was today.

Warnings: None. This is just one big floofy fluff.

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: this is my first Tumblr post. I hope I did the lay-out correctly.

Requested by @heartbreakinmiddecember.

‿︵‿︵ʚɞ『』ʚɞ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ʚɞ『』ʚɞ‿︵‿︵

It was October 29th, 08:00 AM, and you were pacing nervously through the kitchen. How could you have forgotten about your boyfriend's birthday? His birthday?! You rubbed your temples, trying to think of something that would be a quick fix. And it had to be something amazing. Because for your last birthday, he took you to Paris, showed you the entire city and spent a week in the French city of love.

And you, very confidently, then promised him you would one-up him.

But it is his birthday today, and due to all of the stress at work and him being gone last weekend, you forgot. Girlfriend of the year, right?

You opened the fridge; the least you could do was make him breakfast and hopefully get a wonderful idea before he would greet you in the kitchen.

And in the middle of your attempt to make breakfast, Lance entered the kitchen, only wearing grey sweatpants. You looked up from the pan frying the eggs and smiled at the sight, “My birthday boy.”

Lance returned the smile and walked to you, “Good morning, baby.”

“Happiest birthday,” you said and wrapped your arms around his neck as soon as he was close enough. “I am making you some breakfast.”

“Can I help you?”

You shook your head, “You’re not supposed to help me; it is your birthday.”

Lance chuckled and pressed his lips on your temple, “Okay then. Am I allowed to grab my own coffee?”

“Sure thing. I am almost done anyway.”

You tried your best not to be too nervous around him. Knowing your boyfriend, he was not even going to ask about his present– he did not care about materialistic things. That did help to avoid the subject for at least another few minutes as you danced around the kitchen to set the table.

“Lancey? Come eat breakfast, love.”

“I am right here, baby,” Lance said, taking a seat at the table. “It looks and smells delicious, thank you.”

“I tried my best.”

“I haven’t had a birthday breakfast in years.”

Last year, his birthday was during a race weekend overseas, making it impossible for you to celebrate his special day together, all the more reason for you to make this one special.

“Glad I could make you one,” you replied and took a bite from your breakfast. “When was the last time?”

“I think ever since I was a teenager. Due to the races, most of my birthdays were spent with hotel breakfasts.”

You nodded slowly, chewing and still thinking about the perfect birthday gift, “Are there other things you missed out on due to your career?”

Lance put his fork down as he tilted his head, visibly thinking about an answer. He had not expected the question; the two of you never really discussed childhood matters, as it was not necessary, according to you— you much rather focussed on the present time and the future, as those were the times you could still alter.

“Uhm,” he hummed, showing that he was still thinking about it. “When I was a kid, I always wanted a dog, but unfortunately, my parents never agreed due to my lack of availability to take care of it. They said they would hire someone for anything but taking care of a dog.”

“Ah,” You said, and a little smirk crept on the corners of your lips. “Good thing you’re living on your own now, then, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

You shook your head quickly, as a sudden idea had sprung to mind, “Nothing, baby. Just finish your breakfast so we can get ready for the day.”

Lance smirked smugly, “Ah, yes,” he said in remembrance. “You are trying to one-up the trip to Paris. Tell me, how are you going to do so?”

“Oh, Lancey, I can’t spoil your birthday gift already,” You grabbed both empty plates to start and clean up. You had an idea in your head, but you couldn’t arrange it with Lance still near you.

“Go get ready,” You spurred him on to leave the room. “I will clean this up.”

Lance nodded, gave you a kiss on the cheek, and left the room as you quickly loaded the dishwasher. You waited until you heard the water from the shower running before grabbing your phone.

The idea had suddenly snapped into your mind; there is a puppy ranch nearby, and you knew the owner from one of your previous summer jobs, one before you got your full-time job, and one before you knew Lance.

You dialed the number, and wonderly, the owner picked up before the third ring, “Hey, y/n! How are you?”

“Good morning, Henri,” You greeted your old boss. “I am good, but I need a favor.”

“Sure, tell me.”

“Did you, by any chance, have 8-week-old puppies at this moment?”

“Uh,” A little sigh rolled over the lips of the man on the other side of the phone, “I think I have one litter of puppies. One of the labradors had 7 puppies, but listen, y/n, 5 of them are already reserved and paid.”

“That means two are not, and I just want to bring my boyfriend over to cuddle with them, too. Is that possible? It is his birthday, too. I promise to buy whichever one he chooses.”

“Of course, you and your boyfriend can come over. I also have a litter of 5-week-old labradors.”

“Thank you, Henri!” You almost exclaimed; your plan was actually working. “We will be there within an hour.”

You hung up and walked to the bedroom. The shower just stopped running, and Lance stepped out of the bathroom, towel around his waist.

A playful whistle ran over your lips, immediately creating a grin on Lance's face.

"Do we need to hurry, baby?" Lance asked as you made your way to the bathroom.

"Within an hour, but it's nearby. Don't worry."

Lance nodded and got dressed while you took a quick shower and got dressed afterward. He waited patiently on the couch, scrolling through his Instagram as you came down. You smiled as you saw the amount of memes he passed on his following page.

"Ready to go?"

Lance put his phone in his pocket, got up from the couch, and walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing the tip of your nose, "More than ready."

He grabbed the keys to the car from the little dresser in the hallway, and that's when you put out your hand, insisting that he had given over the keys.

"You're kidding me, right?" Your boyfriend asked, almost laughing as if it was a joke. You, too, knew that he was no passenger princess, but for one day, your roles in the car were reversed.

"I am serious, Lance," you said. You shook your hand, another demand for him to drop the keys in your hand.

He rolled his eyes and gave over the keys to his Aston Martin. You had driven it before, mostly when he wasn't in London, you weren't with him to the races, or whenever you ran last-minute errands.

"It better be worth it," He said, taking place in the passenger seat.

"You won't be a passenger princess for long, baby," You reassured him. "And I will let you drive on the way home."

Lance nodded, and you started driving to the ranch. Lance looked out of the window, trying to find any clues on where you were going, but after ten minutes, the busy city street changed into the quiet countryside streets.

"Not long?" He chuckled as he got more comfortable in his seat.

"Five more minutes," you informed him, and that information somehow made him even more comfortable.

Arriving on the ranch, Lance got out confusingly, "Baby, are you sure we're at–"

"Y/n!" A stranger called for you, earning your attention as you turned to where the sound came from.

"Henri!"

Lance got even more confused; he turned along and saw how you quickly hugged the older man. He straightened his back and smiled at Henri as the elder one reached out for his hand.

"You must be the boyfriend," Henri said, shaking Lance's hand. "I am Henri. Y/n used to work for me when she was still a student."

"Ah," Lance retorted, quickly licking his lips. "I am the boyfriend, indeed. Lance Stroll."

"Familiar name," Henri muttered, returning his attention back to you. "Y/n, where did you pick this boy up from again?"

You chuckled, "He's a racing driver, Henri. And I met him when I was at the headquarters of Aston Martin for that job application I told you about."

You didn't get the job, but you did get Lance, who had offered to give you that same job multiple times, but by the time you and him had gotten serious, you were already in a perfect position at your current job.

"Of course," Henri said enthusiastically. "She told me a lot about you before she started that corporate job."

Your cheeks got red as Lance smiled amusingly, "She did?"

"Enough, please," you begged both of them. "Henri, please lead us to Lance's surprise."

The three of you walked across the yard until you reached the building in the middle; Henri stopped in front of the door, "I already let them loose in their playroom. You know how it works, y/n. Good luck."

And Henri walked away, leaving Lance very confused. He reached out for your hand on the doorknob, "What is going on, baby?"

"I am not going to ruin the surprise two seconds before you see it yourself. You heard Henri, I have worked here. I know what's going to happen and how to handle things."

Lance gave you a quick nod, and you opened the door, entering a small, empty hallway. You grabbed Lance's hand and led him to the only other door.

"Ready?" You asked.

"More than ready," he answered.

You opened the door, and immediately, seven puppies ran up to you and the– now very surprised and amazed– boy next to you.

"Oh my–!" Lance exclaimed as the puppies jumped against him and let out little, playful barks. Lance kneeled down to give them attention– big mistake. All seven puppies jumped against him, causing him to fall over.

The puppies took advantage of Lance's vulnerable state, jumping on top of him and licking his hands and his face.

"Y/n!" Lance called out to you, his laugh echoing throughout the room. "Help!"

You first grabbed your phone to quickly snap some pictures. Lance tried to give equal attention to all the puppies, but he was totally outnumbered and there was no way for him even to try and get up.

"Y/n, please!" Lance begged, but the laughs were too contradicting to immediately act on his cries for help.

"You're doing great, baby," You said instead and kneeled down next to him in an attempt to get one of the puppies to go to you instead of to him. "They just seem to love you totally."

Lance chuckled; with the attention of the puppies divided between the two of you, he could finally sit up and give you a cheeky smile, "This was an ambush."

"You did it to yourself. I would never sit down that fast."

"And you didn't think of warning me?" Lance carefully grabbed one of the puppies and started petting it gently before the pup jumped away again.

"You can have a slight do-over with the German Sheppards in the next room. But they are still with their mom, so mostly it is just watching and reaching out your hand when they come to you yourself."

Lance chuckled, "This is already amazing, baby. Thank you."

"You wanna know the best part?"

Lance crocked his eyebrow as he tilted his head, waiting for you to give him the answer.

"We can adopt one," You said happily. "If you want to."

You didn't know how to describe what happened on your boyfriend's face; it went from confusion to realization to shock and happiness.

"What?"

You nodded enthusiastically, "Yeah! We can adopt one of the puppies, which will be yours, entirely. I will just take care of them whenever you're away."

Still, you could not describe the light in his eyes, the way the corners of his mouth must have started to hurt. Everything about him seemed light all of a sudden.

"You're not joking now?" He tried confirming with you.

"No, baby," you reassured. "This is my birthday gift to you."

Lance got up, maybe a bit too quickly, as the puppies tried jumping him again, but he made his way to you and crashed his lips against yours, "I love you so much." 

You cupped his cheek and pressed your lips back against his before whispering, "I love you too." 

It didn't take Lance long to sit back down and let the puppies playfully attack him again. You sat back as the smile on your face only kept growing. And the guilt you had felt this morning had completely disappeared. 

Seeing your boyfriend so happy, so playfully, and finally in the off-season felt incredibly good. 

"Hi there," Henri's voice cut through the laughs, giggles, and small barks. "Having fun, I see."

 You turned around and smiled, "He's in another world." 

"Lance," Henri only now gained Lance's attention. "That blonde over there and the brown one there are still up for adoption."  

Lance looked at both the puppies, his eyes breaking a little just thinking about leaving one behind, "Can't we adopt both?" 

He then looked at you, tilting his head as he gave you his best puppy's eyes. You let out a small groan, "Come on, Lance..." 

"Baby, please," he begged you. "I promise we will do them good. They will have each other to play with. I will spend so much time with the three of you." 

You rolled your eyes, but the smirk already gave away the answer you were about to give, "Only if you admit that I did one-up you on this birthday." 

Lance crawled to you, kissed your lips, and nodded, "You definitely did, baby." 

[ruiniel]

If you don't mind me giving you some inspiration to write, I've got a little scenario you could play with involving Alucard (Castlevania). Perhaps a great ball is happening and even though they aren't a couple, he invites our dear reader to accompany him. What follows is a tender if not very charged moment between the two as they help each other get dressed. It could end with a resolved note or perhaps linger with the promise of what could be...

And what inspiration it was! Thank you, here it be.

I chose the resolved note

Mirror

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Pairing: Alucard x F!Reader

Count: 2.7k

Rating: T

Tags/CW: oneshot, mutual pining, romantic angst, longing, unresolved sexual tension, angst again, unresolved emotional tension, confessions

All characters depicted are 18+

Mirror

mirror

on

the

wall

tell

no

more

lies

of

who we

are.

—Atticus

You should never have agreed to this. 

Gazing in the mirror to ensure the trappings of your dress are fastened as needed, you realize that the person you see before you is a far cry from the one you knew, months ago.

Not the physical appearance that was altered as much, no. 

Longing. Longing and friendship and the loss of both did this to you, and all and everything else that passed; now, there is an everpresent knot in your throat, a despondent voice in the back of your mind, always repeating the same.

Gone.

As you run a hand through your hair, thinking belatedly what to do with it for the night, you consider: he’d suggested this. 

He’d put forward the idea that you move to the closest town, noticing your loneliness—and if there ever was a being in the world who knows the torment of its perpetuity, that would be him. But he was wrong. The times he walked in, catching you staring bleakly out the window; the times he’d seen you fastly wiping your eyes with your sleeve as he neared. If anything, loneliness was not the reason; but you were too much of a coward to tell him otherwise, weren’t you? 

Weren’t you? You berate yourself, lip curling. 

He wanted this. When you’d asked him to come with, to live, he refused on account of his duty. A legacy of ashes, he said, but a legacy still, and it was his alone to guard. But no one should ever be secluded like this, you’d offered, it was not fair, you’d said.

“Oh, but it is,” he’d murmured one chilly night spent watching the snowfall. “It is… only fitting, I’ve come to think.”

You reach for a comb, half-heartedly brushing through the strands, gazing at the cold, flat surface, seeing so many moments that are gone. 

He’d wanted this, said it was not your obligation to remain a companion to someone like him. 

“You belong with your own people. Not in this decrepitude.”

You fool, the bitter thought comes. That never mattered. I would have stayed. I would have stayed as your friend, even if there was no chance for you to look at me and see more. 

But you didn’t. You didn’t want him to know, you didn’t want him to see. What was the point of sharing a depth of unrequited feelings, what help would it be to him, rather than another burden?

How strange. But maybe, you tell yourself, combing idly, after all, it’s merely devotion that you feel? An affinity and gratefulness you’re mistaking for something else, and maybe, maybe… you’re worrying for nothing. Maybe it’ll pass soon, and you’ll forget. You’ll attempt a life here, you will live, as humans must do. You hate the tears that sting your eyes. 

“I can’t,” you murmur to your destitute self in the mirror. “I can’t…” 

Two soft knocks on the door. 

Swiftly you rub at your eyes with your richly embroidered sleeve, taking a breath. “Enter.”

You turn and feel a spike of jealousy, of hurt, of longing so deep you want to carve out your heart and throw it at his feet.

He looks so much like he belongs here, with his bright long hair and elegant shirt, that dark overcoat folded neatly under his arm. 

Adrian blinks, staring at you as he closes the door. “You seem…”

“I’m not ready,” you mumble, turning back to your task, gazing at him in the mirror.

Another farce. He’d proposed you attend the yearly masked ball, to begin mingling and integration in this new society, in this foreign town you wish burned to the ground.

“I can see that,” Adrian says. “I merely wanted to,” he hesitates as you turn, then places his coat carefully onto an armchair. 

Outside, the rain has begun to patter against the windows of the inn. He’d given you enough by way of means to live comfortably until you found your bearings here, until you found a means to live by. For the purpose at hand, he’d booked a room in the same place for the night.

He’s already donned his mask: black and gold, an embellishment that fades before the sheerness of his eyes. You blink as your stare is drawn to what he holds in his hand, then back to the grimace pulling at his lips. “I’ve tried all, but this cravat won’t do my bidding no matter what I do. I thought, other hands might be of more use,” he looks at you with a pale smile.

You snort. He could be wearing roughened hemp clothes and still look as perfect as he does in these sleek, elegant garments of black and white and crimson.

“Fine,” you shake your head, putting forth your own smile—it’s fake, but it’ll have to do. You rise and walk over to him, taking the fine cravat from his hand. You haven’t seen him in two weeks, not since you’ve made the town a permanent residence.

You look up at him. Unable to meet his eyes so close, you focus on the intricate gilded details of his mask. His hair is tied back from his face, a few strands straying over sharp cheekbones—are they more pronounced than before? You wonder at this and nothing, as you look back to fasten the cravat around his neck, your hands working slowly, your head spinning with the scent he’s using—something of lilies and lilac, certainly some rarity from the early years of his childhood travels with the castle and his now defunct family. 

“How are you faring so far?” 

You loathe him without a right to, but does he know? Does he even know how he twists the dagger? It seems not, and the sting in your eyes mellows. “It’s different, no doubt,” you speak softly, wanting to press your cheek to his shoulder and weep. “Many more people than I’m used to, but it… it looks safer than the wilds of the woods, for the most part,” you try a joke. “And you?”

Your fingers are nearly done with the knot, but when there comes no answer but the patter of rain against the window you pause, looking up at him again. His eyes tell you nothing. His face is expressionless no doubt, hidden behind that mask, as still as he is. 

“As you say, it is different,” Adrian finally speaks. “But there were no other threats, and for now all seems quiet.” On the last word you think his voice cracked just a little; might be you imagined it.

“There,” you say, done with the knot, hands sliding slowly down his chest, over his fine white shirt, before they fall at your sides. You turn away and head back to your seat, burning from the closeness and feeling absolutely pathetic. You pick up the brush again, watching him in the mirror; staring at the ground—what is this?

“I must finish my hair, but have no inkling of what to do with it,” you chatter away to fill the emptiness, though the shallow topic makes you want to cry.

Adrian looks up; your eyes meet in the mirror. Then he’s nearing you, for some reason he’s still here—well, you are to go together, after all, he’d agreed to be your partner for the night, offered even.

“I know a plain one I used to help my mother with,” he says, having slowly neared until he stands behind your chair. “If you wish, I could help with the first steps, you can make something of your own liking out of it.” 

“Now that, is a skill I did not expect of you,” you can’t help but smile at him, and when he returns it, you feel the bliss of past, comfortable moments together, before this wretchedness took roots inside you, curling so strong and deep nothing you’ve done so far helped free you of it. 

“How so?” Adrian asks, head tilting to the side, then, “May I?”

You nod, then freeze when long hands are placed on the top of your head, gliding through your hair. You glance up at his reflection.

“Well, because…”  you curse the sensations brimming at this barest of touches, at the slight pressure of fingertips on your scalp. Oh, but you truly are pathetic, aren’t you?

His long fingers are slow to sift through your hair, catching unwieldy strands; they feather over your cheek, your temples, the nape of your neck; you bite on your lip, hating him for all but casting you out in the guise of friendship and selflessness, wanting that same touch everywhere until you can’t breathe. “Because, you never mentioned it before, I suppose,” you add lamely, your head emptying of logic and coherent thought.

“I never had a chance to,” Adrian replies softly, and in the mirror, you see his eyes are on his task; he looks carefully down at his work, seemingly absorbed by it. 

His hands are gentle, not a tug or a snag; you close your eyes, lips parting. If you’re being a wretch, you’ll take all you can get, at least make it worth it. 

“Hand me that pin, please,” he says, and you do so, fingers brushing against his just barely. 

He’s doing a fine job of it, and as you open your eyes, you must admit: your hair gains a semblance of satisfactory appearance under his care.

“There,” he says at last, looking at his handiwork, then meeting your eyes again. “How do you like it?”

“It’s,” you swallow as his hands alight on your shoulders. “It’s wonderful,” you say.

“I honestly never thought I’d do this again,” Adrian replies, hands sliding from your shoulders but—

There is sadness in his eyes, and something else, and it’s that with the beating of your heart that has you reaching, pressing a hand over his, trapping it on your shoulder. 

You look up at him. “Adrian,” you must be mad, what are you doing? What do you think you’re doing? He’s never given any sign that… that he’d see you that way, but damn it, damn it, damn it all. 

You stare at each other in silence. His hand presses into your shoulder even as your grip grows tighter. You’re panting, and the tears you’d so bravely kept at bay now tremble in your eyes. “It’s not the same,” you croak, “It’s not the same without you.”

His lips part, but he says nothing, gazing down at you in that mask, unmoving, his hand still warm on your shoulder.

 “I don’t understand why you wanted to be alone, but I try. I know you feel so much guilt, and you… you might not have place for anyone else in your heart because of it, and you might never see me as anything else, but I… I’ll go mad if I don’t tell you this, and then… then you can do what you will.”

“You know why we agreed for you to leave,” is all he says; his lips press together in that way you’ve learned he does when uneasy, or vexed.

“Yes, but I… I’ve come to care for you, to feel things I never thought I’d feel for another,” your words leave your mouth even as you dread the outcome of your sudden, mindless outburst; you're shivering. “And you made me leave, you cast me away, I only wanted to… I wouldn’t have asked for more but to be your friend…”

You yelp when the chair is suddenly spun around with you in it, and Adrian’s staring down at you, a hand propped on each armrest. “I didn’t cast you away,” he says, and through your rapid heartbeat you hear the cracks in his words; as though he struggles to speak them. He looks to the side, eyes closing in a frown. “I… I did not want to tie you to me, I want…” he looks back at you, with a sadness and fire in his gaze that leaves you breathless, “I want you to be happy, away from… from my petty self-deprecation, my sleepless nights and empty days. What would you get from it? What could you possibly...” he trails away, shakes his head.

You must be dreaming, you want to scream. Instead, your voice comes like trickling rain. “... were you too blind to see, what happiness is to me?”

His head had lowered, but when Adrian looks at you again, his eyes burn. “Then tell me.”

“It is you,” you say, in agony. “You fool,” and your hands reach, slow to undo the lacings of his mask, and as soon as you remove it, you find his face twisted by the same emotion you’d seen on yourself in the mirror.

Miserable longing. 

You smile, close to sobbing in relief, chest heaving. Placing the mask aside, you slowly reach to touch his face; his dark lashes shiver as Adrian gazes down at you, seemingly trapped there though you’re the one caged by him in the chair.

When you pull him down to you by his cravat he yields readily, sighs, nuzzling at your face.

“I’m a coward,” he whispers, eyes shut as you card fingers through his hair with barely contained urgency, feeling the softness, the slickness of it, the scent of it, of him.

He draws back, so close to your face you see the golden rims of his irises. “I did not want to be selfish, to keep you there though I… I didn’t want to think about what I’d seen, the change in you… but… “ his forehead rests on your shoulder with a sigh. His hand, warm and scarred, is gentle as he feels along your bare neck. “... but while you were there, I felt… a little more like me…” he admits, and you’re melting beneath the onslaught of sensation, the confession branded into your skin, his hair tickling and soft where it caresses your cheek.

He raises his head, and you stare at each other for moments; seconds; eternities. 

“Come back,” he says, and through the burst of emotion you cup his cheek, and press your lips to his; he sighs; you whimper softly as he deepens it all, seeking more, an arm around your waist lifting you to him easily; you wrap around him with relish, not letting go even if the world were to crash down on you both, and his arms are vicelike around you.

Your feet barely touch the ground in his embrace, and you’re smiling now, actually smiling, shedding layer after layer of suppressed heartache and desire and protectiveness; a care so deep you can call it nothing else than what it is, though you dare not tell him yet.

He licks into your mouth with the thirst of one denied sustenance for years on end, crushes you to him so strongly you gasp; but you’re no different. Your arms are bonds around his neck, body pressing against him, leg curling around his hip as though trapping him for fear he’ll vanish; when you break away to breathe, you see his lips are bruised, his eyes so bright as though a dark veil had been cast off; his smile is the sun forgotten by the rains outside, and his long hand grips the skin of your bare thigh, holding your leg wrapped tightly around his hips. Clothes, crumpled. Your dress, wrinkled. His cravat, which you’d so carefully fastened, is slack around his neck, and his hair is a gleaming mess. 

“Adrian,” you say, licking at his taste on your lips, unable to recall a state of drunkenness such as this. Without even realizing, your gaze slips briefly towards the bed, then back on his face.

“Will you?” he asks after another swift kiss, a tug of softness. “Will you come back with me?”

You gently pry yourself away only enough to take his hand, placing it to your breast; he gasps. “Yes,” you say, voice shaking with fear overpowered by need. You reach for his other hand and lace your fingers with his, slow to step back, closer to the empty bed. “But not yet.” 

You fall and he follows, his features raw with all that you feel, your shadows melding together against the wall.

The mask lies forgotten on the table, shimmering in the candlelight.

MASTERLIST: CASTLEVANIA SERIES x READER

More of my work is on AO3 [many stories not on tumblr]

BLOG MASTERPOST (all you need to know)

Likes/comments/reblogs always and forever appreciated

The line "I felt… a little more like me" is also inspired by Atticus

[sophieinwonderland]

H-hey,,, i-i'm on anon because this is very e-embarassing to ask for... b-but i found this v-very long post basically fakeclaiming a lot of systems online and claiming that being plural is a trend. T-they also said that pluralkit is anti-recovery and a bunch of other stuff. I-i feel destroyed inside and I know i should not care about haters that much, b-but i was wondering if you can respond to the post in some way, by debunking it i-or maybe just saying that it is not valid. I-i understand if you cannot do this and i wouldn't be mad at you, i just thought that i might try. /gen

This is the post: https://www.tumblr.com/nbhdsc4ss/742946435586277376/im-tired-of-this-boom-of-plural-trend?source=share

Yikes! That's such a terrible post!

Alright, let's go over this.

First, just another reminder that if 1.5% of people have DID as is estimated, over a hundred-million people in the world should have the disorder.

Just on this alone, I find fad claims to be nonsense. We aren't actually seeing anywhere near the numbers of people with DID online who should have it. And that's without touching other forms of multiplicity.

This is an incredibly unhealthy outlook.

A system shares their life. The life doesn't belong to any single headmate. Hosts can change over time. And many systems don't really have a true "core." The very concept of the core is largely outdated.

What?

I think this post is killing my neurons! I can feel my brain cells dying as we speak! 🙄

Anyway, just in case anyone was worried this might be true. It's not. I don't know what they're talking about. There's nothing about switching killing neurons anywhere.

As far as I can tell, any association with cerebral palsy is also made up.

Honestly, I could spend eons unpacking the misinformation in this paragraph alone.

I made this blog back in 2021.

The Plural Association was founded in 2020.

"Endogenic system" was coined in 2014.

The Natural Multiples movement dates back to the 90s.

And "system" has been in the vocabular of all these groups since even the beginning.

And while it's not quite a medical term, it does at least originate in medical contexts. The only difference is that the plural community uses it as an identity label for plurals while most academic sources refer to a personality system as something everyone has, with the personality system of multiples being composed of dissociated parts. (Sometimes called "subsystems" in DID literature to denote alters being personality systems within personality systems.)

Words make communication easier.

Calling a headmate an "introject" is easier that referring to them as a headmate based on a source.

Also, blurring and blending generally mean that multiple headmates are, well, blending together. It's hard to know who is fronting because there are multiple headmates who feel like they're mixing, and it makes it confusing.

But another reason for not knowing who is fronting could be a sort of autopilot like in DPDR. Differentiating between these experiences is useful.

Wait... Affection between alters is anti-recovery?

You know, this really puts the earlier lines about non-host alters stealing the life of the host into perspective.

Not only does this draw a picture of an adversarial relationship between alters, but they're treating that adversarial relationship as being good for recovering, and feeling affection for them as a bad thing.

This is possibly the most harmful take I've ever seen.

As for the rest of it, subsystems (as we use the term) are just headmates more closely linked. I've never heard anyone phrase it as an alter having DID. But I guess I can see the parallel. And again, splits and switches don't damage braincells. Having a bigger system isn't going to make the "days of the body count down."

Wait... weren't you just claiming switching literally kills neurons? I mean, I agree that alters can't permanently die (under normal circumstances) but this feels kinda contradictory.

As for having different disorders, this depends a lot on the disorder. By and large, I believe any condition that can be psychogenic can be experienced by some alters and not others.

But what conditions could be psychogenic would probably surprise you. Look at the woman who had some blind alters and some sighted alters.

Polyfragmented systems were traditionally systems with upwards of 100 alters. (And "highly complex" isn't a medical term.)

And again, splitting and switching doesn't kill neurons. Having a bunch of alters isn't going to kill you! Nor will it allow your rights to be stripped and get you forcefully institutionalized against your will so you can be studied like a lab rat!

Why would you just assume the doctors are misdiagnosing you though?

I mean, typically, DID is incorrectly diagnosed as other disorders far more often than you have people be incorrectly diagnosed with DID.

Again, there's this disturbing emphasis on the alters existing for the host and being bad for wanting things of their own, which bring back to mind their assertion that affection between alters is anti-recovery.

And I just... feel really bad for the other alters in this system. This is just so... sad...

If they're not real kids, then what's wrong with them being on the internet?

I mean, yeah, all alters need pronouns. If any identify as a different gender, it's important to have pronouns for them so you know what to refer to them by. Why is this controversial? 🤷‍♀️

And what does the part about alters becoming useless mean?

Talk therapy isn't magic. Yes, it can help to speak to a professional, but I don't understand the view that it's impossible to fuse without seeing a therapist.

Oh, and the line about how "knowing things about another alter is impossible" is nonsense too. Most DID systems don't have total amnesia all the time every time they switch. And many who do experience amnesia can still communicate. They can learn about their alters by asking. And even ones who don't communicate internally can learn to communicate through notes and text!

...

Yeah... this post is just... so... so... SO bad. In every way! Just mountains upon mountains of harmful takes and misinformation!

[cursedvibes]

The more I think about this chapter and read others takes the less negative I’ve become towards it. I’m just neutral now and if anything I quite like a lot of things in here, especially since the full TCB translations are out now. I’m still disgruntled about Yuuji like literally being thrown to the side though.

I never cared for Yuuta but he did need a last hoorah, so I hope it is a last hoorah that Yuuta fans find good.

It has been interesting seeing people’s takes on the story and what the theme of the story is meant to be. I actually kind of disagree with the takes that JJK is a nihilistic story, for how dark and gritty it can be it very much seems to be a story of hope and change than just a story where good people fail.

I have settled my emotions a bit too. Mostly just feel tired. My main issue is like you said that Yuuji is just getting thrown to the side when we finally get a tense moment between him and Sukuna. Gege really wants to stretch that fight. Yuuji was literally digging into his chest after just landing a Black Flash. Sukuna apparently felt so threatened that he healed his brain and CT, which is quite risky, to cast a domain. But then he can just shove Yuuji away and that's it? Also this Sukuna vs Gojo rehash is for one redundant and also very ill-timed. They could've done this when Sukuna was about to unleash Furnace or his altered domain. When people were actually in danger and Yuuta's sacrifice could've meant something. Yuuta gives a very passionate speech, but the whole time I just have to think that that's really not needed. If they need back-up, the people who got transported away could just come back. Maki's Soul Blade actually seems much more useful here, since we know hurting Sukuna's soul is how you actually get him down.

Also, Yuuta telling Maki that she doesn't understand what it means to be a monster and that she's scared leaves a really bad taste in my mouth. He didn't directly target her, but maybe have some self-awareness about who you're talking to? Not ooc though I would say, nor the rest of his speech and plan.

Another thing that I find confusing is why Yuuta can't heal himself, but is then able to grow Gojo's body together. If it's because of the stitches, Shoko could've stitched up his real body too. Could be that Kenjaku's technique gives a healing boost after the transfer, but they don't talk about that and I don't know how they would know that either. Nobody has ever seen Kenjaku change vessels.

But yeah, overall my reaction is just "do we need to do this again?". I don't agree with the criticisms I've seen that this is too dark, too bleak, too immoral, irredeemable and especially all those comparisons to horror and psychothriller stories. Seems to come also a lot from the people who think Choso's death was bad. Like using Gojo's body like that is grim, it shows how rotten jujutsu society is and that they perpetuate this mindset even in the students, but I think it just shows Yuuta breaking under pressure and emphasizing certain character flaws of his. A negative development. Not necessarily bad. If anything it shows why Yuuji can be the only one to defeat Sukuna because he doesn't give in to Sukuna's believes and he won't let the jujutsu system rob him of his value of life. Even if he sees himself as a tool, he does not treat others like that and he has always been someone who saw Gojo as a human first and the strongest sorcerer second. I wouldn't even say jjk is bleak right now. People have died and Yuuta threw his humanity away, but they are still gradually chipping away at Sukuna.

Certainly not nihilistic. There are very clear values governing the whole story as seen by the dichotomy of Sukuna and Yuuji. I do think they could've been put more into focus by using Shinjuku Showdown to highlight both of their mindsets and hone in more on Sukuna and Yuuji's mentality through it, but it's far from being nihilistic. Everything has meaning, Yuuta just now made the choice to compromise his previous morals. That doesn't mean the overall message is mute. Yuuta only played a small part in it to begin with after all. It's character development for him, but not a complete overthrow of the story's themes. He was told to become stronger he needs to throw away his humanity and disregard others. The challenge for him was to fight while still maintaining his humanity at the cost of not being The Strongest. He failed and also hasn't fully committed to that path, he's just perpetuating Gojo's dehumanization by saying there needs to be someone to fill that role. Someone who needs to stand at the top, despite even Gojo saying (or previously believing) that this burden shouldn't be carried by just one person. That's why he raised the students to be strong. Not quite the right approach either and not a break of the principles of jujutsu society, but certainly not what Yuuta took away from all this that there needs to be one pillar of strength far removed from the others who does the dirty work for them.

So like there is something there in the chapter, an attempt was made to say something, even though I don't think it quite stuck the landing. Doesn't make me especially ecstatic for the next chapters either though.

[theinfernalcollective]

Apologies if i unknowingly ask something that sound inconsiderate or put it in a strange way – please bear with me, i don’t want to offend anyone and genuinely come from a place of interest. But in any case, please feel free to correct me. And since you sign up your answers, it’s only polite to introduce myself, my name’s Skye!

Do you remember yourself alone in your head, before dissociating? How it compares to now? I don’t even mean headaches and nausea, i mean... is there any privacy in your head when you can have your thoughts all to yourself and no one would have their opinions? I imagine it can get kinda noisy and crowded... unless one is active and others are sleeping?

Speaking of which, what others do while one person takes the reins? Are they sorta inactive and sleeping, or they’re on the background checking the perimeter?

How do you pick names? Do you pick names as you discover your alters? Do they come with names? Every time i encountered systems, their names were extremely poetic, like straight up from fantasy novels, no one ever is plain John... why is that?

I saw a person who mentioned they had DID (they didn’t try to monetize it or make a tiktok of it, just mentioned) and was accused of faking it simply because they said “I” instead of “we”. I don’t understand how it proves anything. Anyone can learn to use a pronoun that will let them blend in and be accepted by society, trans people do it all the time - it’s not comfortable, but it’s definitely doable. What’s your opinion on it?

Speaking of opinions, does it happen that alters have completely different opinions on important things, or they all have pretty much the same core values, being born from your mind? And if opinions are different, how do you decide and how does it feel, when alters have a disagreement?

Does each person in the system feel like a “whole” person? Or everyone misses something that others have? Bluntly speaking, did original, pre-trauma person’s mind dissociated so hard that some of its parts separated and developed into people with minds of their own, or the original person is the same?

In situations when you can’t, don’t want to, or don’t feel safe to tell people about your disorder, can you easily pretend to be one singular person? How good each of the system is in pretending to be just a singular you?

How do your friends and family communicate with different people in the system? Does it happen that they have trouble with one person, or if they don’t know about your disorder, just “don’t like when you’re like that”?

Does the original person, the one that was there before disociating, considers themselves the main one, or everyone is the main one? Does everyone in the system understand / agree that they’re trauma based disorder and wouldn’t be here otherwise?

Do you get offended if people who know about your disorder address you as a singular person, or you are usually understanding that it can be hard to wrap your head around if they don’t live that themselves?

What was the shortest and the longest period of time when one person was in charge?

Who was the first person your girlfriend met, and how meeting with others went? How does she adapt to different dynamic with different people?

Do alters appear when they’re most needed, or sometimes you wish it was someone else in a particular moment? Did it ever happen that a specific person taking charge did more harm than good?

Do you sometimes want to switch the person and let someone specific be in charge because it feels safer and more comfortable to let them lead? And if yes, can you somehow help or try to force it?

Does your system have some sort of hierarchy?

Weird question, but do alters have different birthdays? If yes, do you get to celebrate many times a year?

Alrighty!! Its lonely to meet you! I completly have no memory while another part is fronting so it's a grey area with that. There will almost always be other part that has to have their input on a situation but as of recent most days are quiet.

I'm not entirely too sure what other parts do when another is fronting, but they're always listening. Always keeping near.

Some parts form with names like Atlas, August, Isabelle and Steven. And others like myself and Vayu we find our own names.

Around strangers we will mostly say "i" and "me" but most online spaces depending on the situation I will use "we" if referring to the entire system or if there is another part who is co conscious.

All of my parts have very different opinions on alot of things, religion is a big one. Atlas, a part who i have found has been present for years holds his Christian faith while August is a Satanist and Apostolis deals with the Greek Gods. So different opinions run high.

More or less every part feels whole, but at the same time we never feel fully whole as ones self. Knowing we are just states/identities/fragments its hard to feel whole.

Some parts, Vayu especially being the host, can generally mask quite well to be a "singular person"

Our girlfriend acknowledges each part that fronts, and treats them all with respect, our parents notice. But don't say much, and its about the same for friends.

We believe there is no "main one" but technically that would be considered Isabelle, the first host.

All the parts know we wouldn't be here if it wasn't for my brain splitting off and dissociating away from the trauma. And for that we have to be happy and grateful.

I'm not too fussed if I'm referred to as a singular person, it doesn't make me upset for such even if people around me know I have DID.

I'm not entirely too sure, maybe a few months? And an hour for the least.

As I formed mid way through last year I have absolutely no idea who the first part that my girlfriend met was, possibly Isabelle?

Parts front when needed. But fuck do I wish I could switch when I wanted.

Angel ended up fronting once to deal with a set of flashbacks and he landed me in the hospital due to an overdose.

Vayu is the only part that celebrates his "birthday" as he has the exact day he first fronted written down.

Hope this answered all of your questions! - Vesper

[roleplay-abiogenesis2]

"A lot has happened this year," Tighnari hummed, the corners of his lips twitching with a faint smile, as he presented the other with his favorite dish of hashweh, as he himself settled in across the table with his own helping of his favorite mushrooms instead.

His words were carried with the knowledge that the 'lot' that had transpired.. had been a complete understatement.

It was a year to this day when Cyno's proposal flew from his mouth, all in response to a playing card commissioned for him. A year had passed since the two had been slowly delegating responsibilities and altering their livelihoods, working in tandem to make everything work. New furniture adorned the once-solidary home Tighnari stayed in, with even more plans in the future to grow and prepare additions to make more space between the two of them..

That was only on the surface level of things that had transpired, and only between the two of them. Their circles had grown, new companions and adventures that had thrown a figurative wrench in one thing or another, duties unknown to them rearing from seemingly nowhere, coupled with shadows of their past nipping at their heels.

All throughout the revelations and trials that found them, they remained constant and as stubbornly perdurable as before.

Dual-toned eyes found Cyno's face while his mind wandered and reached backwards into his memory, a warm fondness overtaking his chest and squeezing tight. The man before him, no matter how frustrating he could be at the worst of times, had most certainly grown on him. That quiet boy with a piercing gaze had grown in many ways, persisting through greater struggles than he himself had ever been aware.. and yet there he sat, likely poised and prepared with some irritating pun laying in wait on his tongue like a snake.

He could almost feel his eyes rolling prematurely.

"Cyno," Tighnari addressed the other from across the small, shared table, "You remember last year, I bought you that card that.. didn't really serve much purpose as far as the game was concerned," as it wasn't technically a real card to be used, yet the value it carried was immeasurable.

"I don't have anything quite like that this year, however.." A hand moved only to grab something from within a nearby drawer, placing his casket of tomes out into view, "What I do have, is a deck that Collei and I have been working on together, entirely behind your back.. If you can beat me this time, we have both agreed to spend a day with you each, to do everything you want, as you would like. Do you accept the terms of this challenge?"

"Have I ever backed down from a challenge before? Of course you knew when you asked." Cyno smiled proudly to himself, holding his hand next to the plate, waiting for the perfect meal to reach the perfect temperature to be savored. Not long now.

And it was only fitting that this perfect moment is shared with the also perfect company. Looking back at Tighnari, his eyes were brimming with excitement already. A stark contrast to his composed features.

"I'd like to make these terms more specific however." He said. "After I beat you both, I want my first day to be spent with Collei, and my second with you. That should give both of us time to prepare properly."

[ughmyreality]

Thoughts on S3 E2

(SPOILERS ahead)

There might be positives, there will be negatives, so please be forewarned that I am not going to solely praise the show. Also, it needs not be mentioned, I am but a single negative person on the internet talking about a fictional story. We are all not going to agree. With that said, let’s move on.

Episode 2-

They really did their thing saying diamonds aren’t the only things that sparkle and then cutting to Eloise. 

How fake can a person get? Actively listening to your crush plan the downfall of your alter ego. Penelope girl.

This scene just further proves that Colin and Penelope were never that great of friends. Why would Colin ask to see how she acts out in public if they were already friends? He should already know that. I also don’t see why he’s acting as though he doesn’t already know how “awkward” she is, anybody can see it. Then again when is he ever home to see it?

“Not me. Them.” Penelope, dearest, I beg of you find a man who actually wants you. He yet again practically threw it in her face that he doesn’t want her. How much rejection can she take?

On another note, I love how they’re doing Penelope’s hair. At least she’s leveling up in one way or another.

I love the fact that lady Danbury is gossiping as usual.

Portia’s disappointment at the lack of an heir is enjoyable. Hopefully they’ll continue with this storyline.

I thought that Benedict was going to be the cliche “lady’s man” but it appears that Colin has his way with women as well. Not as if we could have possibly known this sooner because what have we learned of him up until this point.

I actually agree with what Colin is saying about societal expectations. With new people, you get the chance to rediscover yourself. Even just the jump from, let's say, high school to college, I think you may change because you’re free to reinvent yourself. However, if I’m thinking correctly, this is not his first adventure. Correct? So, what about this trip in particular made him so “different”.

Why did Penelope think she was so sly saying “before we are noticed”? For an area so enthralled with gossip, no one else is noticing that Colin and Penelope are spending more time together and walking side by side. We haven’t seen them in a public area holding even a fraction of a true friendly conversation but now that they are no one bats an eye.

Colin is finally interacting with his siblings but ditches them the moment someone else arrives.

How tone deaf can Colin get? Penelope all but proclaimed her love for him to the rooftops but his first idea is to have her “pretend” to flirt with him. Even worse, I don’t think he’s doing this with malice, but at the same time it’s sending me into a rage. 

Since when does Penelope Featherington say “nothing at all”? Yeah right.

Ugh, this clip! Your eyes are the most remarkable shade of blue… girl, she’s a writer. I’m sure they could have come up with something better for her to say than some chatgpt poetry line. The second hand embarrassment, and as usual Colin wasn’t for her advances.

Colin should have known better than to bring Penelope to the house. I know he claims that Eloise was out but it is their house after all. He apparently had no clue what time they’d be back and was just hoping for the best.

Give me strength! Why does Penelope keep on digging further into Colins business? She never likes what she finds. Her reading Colin’s writing is not only a breach of privacy to the man she claims to want but also only serves as yet another way to humiliate herself. How much longer can this go on? The man honestly doesn’t want her but she still subjects herself to such torment.

I literally started laughing out loud when Colin found her reading! Oh my gosh! The strife!

Another nitpick, I feel like there was way too much blood on Colin’s hand for that small piece of glass. Then that loose tie Penelope put around it probably wouldn’t stop the bleeding. But I’m sure no one else cares about that, so I won’t go any further. 

 Colin knows that Penelope and Eloise don’t want to see each other and that should really be enough. Him trying to act oblivious and say he doesn’t know what happened is irrelevant to the situation. Penelope didn’t want to stay in the house, Eloise doesn’t want her there so why is Colin trying to instigate.

He was quick to shut down Eloise at the mere thought of Penelope seeking him as a husband. At times I feel like Colin doesn’t like her at all much less as a romantic interest. When you’re friends with someone there are obviously certain things you like about them, maybe even things you would seek in a partner. However, Colin seems repulsed at the thought of Penelope. Even when he’s trying to “help her” he doesn’t seem that excited. He acts like they are but acquaintances. On another note, I feel like his voice is so monotone, but that's neither here nor there I suppose.

I feel like Penelope has had more positive chemistry with Lord Remington in this one scene than I have seen with her and Colin this entire time.

Why does Colin automatically assume Eloise told everyone about him “helping” Penelope. They weren’t exactly making it hard to see that they had been talking more than usual. I don’t know why he is blindly taking Penelope’s side. He has no idea what's going on and you’d think he’d hold some sort of solidarity with his sister. I feel absolutely no sympathy for Penelope, girl go ahead and cry. She should have ditched Colin, she knew this was a bad idea from the start. 

Although I like Eloise, Cressida lowkey told her what she needed to hear. Yet again a Bridgerton jumping to conclusions. Both Eloise and Penelope are hypocritical for commenting on Cressida’s tendency to gossip when it appears that’s all they do. 

…never before have I felt this close to being on the brink of insanity. PENELOPE! I wish she’d understand that you cannot simply do the same thing over and over. How many more ways can one profess their unrequited love before they move on? You know what her claiming she doesn’t want to die before being kissed gives me the vibes of? Exes that say if you leave me, I’ll die or I’ll harm myself. That is absolutely so manipulative. Time and time again Colin has shown no interest in her that she has had to resort to the possibility of hypothetical death. I’m surprised this hasn’t been more cause of contention. This kiss means absolutely nothing. If anything it is discrediting any sort of “cute friends to lovers” storyline that could have been. This is nothing more than a guilt trip.

[mapsareforbraindeads]

omg wait do u have more thoughts on light having did cos i would love to hear abt it 🙏 the only time i ever see system light headcanons is in a really ableist way so i would love to hear ur perspective. sorry if this is a weird ask lol

no, it’s fine! ty for enabling me. anyways my thoughts are under the cut.

EXHIBIT A: CONFINEMENT

okay so anyone who’s even remotely into death note knows that light gets amnesia in the yotsuba arc. albeit, self inflicted, but still amnesia. while this instance of amnesia was supernatural and not caused by did, there are other aspects to his behavior that should be addressed. i want to point out his drastic changes in personality after giving up his memories. and no, these have nothing to do with the notebook.

as an example of this, let’s look at chapter 35, when light first loses his memory.

obviously, the many theories of light having an “evil kira alter” are false and extremely ableist. however, that doesn’t mean that another alter couldn’t have switched in at this moment.

take note of light’s thoughts after giving up the notebook. he thinks, “what am i doing here?” which i think was odd wording. after all, he knows why he’s there. he volunteered to be confined under suspicion of being kira. we know that he didn’t lose his memories of this because he constantly refers back to this action within the yotsuba arc. in fact, he references it again in the next panel.

the wording of, “what am i doing here?” rather than something such as, “why did i put myself here?” suggests that either multiple alters were co-conscious, or that a rapid switch took place as his memories were being rearranged.

although, this is not the only inconsistency within light’s wording. let’s look at the next few panels.

L responds to him and repeats light’s request for confinement accurately. instead of saying that he asked for confinement, light has to process his memories for a moment before agreeing with him. as a system myself, this is something i do constantly. it’s common for alters who suffer from blackout amnesia to have to think about when and why they could have said something that they don’t remember.

it’s also common for (usually undiscovered) systems to refute those claims with something like “something must have been wrong with me,” or “i would never say that,” like light did. again, i’m projecting, but the inconsistencies are obvious.

let’s go down the page again.

again, his demeanor shifts and he forgets why he’s in a cell. keep in mind that just a few minutes ago, he admitted that he asked for confinement himself. he knows why this is happening. his brain just won’t let him admit it.

EXHIBIT B: MASKING/FAMILY INTERACTIONS

i’m gonna be jumping around a bit throughout this section, so bear with me.

if there’s anyone who’s known light for a long time, it’s his family. and by extension, light knows them well too. they know light’s habits and light knows theirs. he tries to appear “normal” in his family’s eyes, but there are times when visible amnesia slips though the cracks.

let’s start in chapter 3.

light’s usual plan relies on him being a perfect son/brother to his family. he helps sayu with her homework, he wants to join his father in the police force, and he cares deeply for his mother.

now, in what world would light have to say that he’ll be cleaning his room, so he doesn’t want his mom to come in? we know that he starts locking his door after he obtains the death note, so why would he have to say this? especially when sachiko herself says that she hasn’t cleaned his room in years.

this may seem like a stretch, but this is likely either an alter that hasn’t fronted in years, or a simple lapse in memory caused by amnesia barriers. but it’s obvious that this interaction, and the others like it, are out of character for the light we know.

next, i’d like to compare and contrast two pages. one from chapter 3, and the other from chapter 9.

both of these statements from light are extremely contradictory. in chapter 3, light states that if he messes up, his only option would be to kill his family in order to remain active as kira. while in chapter 9, light says that if anything happens to his family, he would see to it that kira was executed. or rather, that he would cease activity or turn himself in.

one factor in his differing behavior is who he’s speaking to. in chapter 3, he speaks with ryuk and in chapter 9, he speaks with his family. obviously he’s more candid with ryuk, but ryuk himself states that light has a “soft spot” for his family and could never directly hurt them.

these pages show two different thought processes that light uses throughout the series. one that needs to protect the body at all costs through whatever means necessary, and one that prioritizes the lives of loved ones instead.

i could go deeper into this, but i don’t feel like it. i hope you enjoyed your essay 🫶🏻

[ask-the-clergy-bc]

Can we get a look at Special's more darker side? Like maybe something happend to his S/o and him losing his mind over it?

I never get tired of getting to do the darker/evil themes of Ghost! It's always fun to explore both the sinister side along with the goofy and light hearted!

(Triggers/Notes: Ambiguous Reader Species, more serious themes, reader almost sacrificed)

The Dark Side of Special Ghoul - Almost Losing His Mate

Very few people understand the sheer power Special holds. Many tend to dismiss him as just the 'funny interview' Ghoul, or another servant under Sister Imperator. But truthfully, he is the most powerful ghoul in the entire ministry. He is the Ghoul who watches over all others, and is the true right hand to Lucifer. Special is so powerful that he might as well not even be a ghoul, and should by all means be some sort of Archdaemon.

Who you know is 'Phil' is actually only a glimpse of a being that can never be truly controlled.

That being said, he loves his job. The only thing keeping Special from turning the world into chaos is his loyalty to Lucifer... and you. And believe me, if he really wanted he could alter reality to suit his tastes.

Special does not get terribly close to others. Mainly because a majority of beings, ghouls and humans, either find him annoying or off putting. People tend to want to meet him because of his interviews, but find his aura is much different in person. But not you. You were always different... You loved every part of him.

His unnatural aura was only a perk to you. You didn't want to shy away from him. You wanted to UNDERSTAND him. And he could sense that genuineness from you. You and Special were inseparable, and he would burn the entire clergy down for you.

One day he almost did just that.

The Ministry decided that it wanted to control him fully. Special knew this time would come, but was devastated it came at the price of your well being. You were almost a sacrifice on the alter bed, the offering that could reign him in under the thumb of the Clergy. Through the aether he heard your pleas for mercy as you were chained to the bloody stone.

Special's true powers came out that day. The skies warped, walls crumbled, everything perceivable to the eye distorted. For the worst hour of anyone's life, Lincopia was sucked into an alternate reality that threatened to disintegrate every living being in it. Quite literally. Everyone was a heart beat from being ripped apart by this all consuming void.

Only two things saved the ministry from being wiped off the face of the Earth; You still being alive, and Omega.

Omega is the one ghoul to talk any reason into Special on a good day. But the head quintessence ghoul pulled every punch to get Special to listen. Omega rescued you and returned you to Special, surprisingly before Special ripped the alter room into oblivion. Special STILL wanted to destroy all the humans who attempted to take you.

But with Omega's reasoning and your cries for your mate to listen, Special finally relented. Slowly the darkness retracted from the abbey and the world was right again... accept for a few structures that need to be rebuilt. Almost like you all were never sucked into the void.

The scariest part was Special excitedly asking if you wanted to go get pancakes with him. He was starving! Omega could come too!!

You agreed, if not only for Omega's sake... pancakes were the least you could give Omega for SAVING THE ENTIRE MINISTRY!!

No one ever attempted to lay a finger on you again, after this.

[true-blue-sonic]

How Lilac Became An Anthro

As promised, here's the part of the story I'd already written about how Silver and Espio's pet Chao Lilac became an anthro! In case you don't know what I'm talking about: in one fanfic, I gave Silver and Espio a pet Chao that hatched at the very end of it, and proceeded to receive some asks about it on Tumblr. From that Lilac the Chao was created, where we furthermore moved on to her being able to become an anthro. This is how I imagine that went!

Word count: around 2k

~~~~~~

“We can still change our minds, Silver.”

Quietly Silver gives Espio’s hand in his a squeeze, his beloved pressed against him tautly. Cold winds blow over Angel Island, the altar where the Master Emerald rests altogether frosty. How Knuckles manages to survive out here for days on end, the hedgehog has no idea, his pelt fluffed up to give himself and Espio some coverage. Knuckles isn’t here anyway, having agreed to leave the Master Emerald out of his view for a bit to give Silver and Espio some private time at this sacred spot, as he’d called it. “We can,” Silver thus murmurs back. “But we also don’t even know what we want is possible, so…”

“We can never know if we do not ask. But it is a huge responsibility,” Espio responds, beholding the giant green gemstone in front of them with a pensive look. Silver follows suit, trying to make out anything from the Emerald’s depth yet only his and Espio’s reflection meeting his gaze.

“Well, we survived Charmy.” Using said reflection to beam at Espio encouragingly Silver gives his hand another squeeze, giving his backpack that contains what everything is hinging on a nervous jostle all the same. They desire no small thing... He would not at all fault Espio for not wanting to go through with it in the end. “If you truly do not want to, then we won’t ask at all-”

“No, I do,” the chameleon interrupts, face hardening into that ever-so-serious look that Silver knows so well. That look that always shows on his face when caring for Charmy, or when Silver himself had gotten injured, or when everything is going amiss before the chameleon’s mere presence and quick actions make it all right again.

Fierce.

Protective.

A love stronger than any force out there in the universe.

Perfect to raise a child.

“And I do too,” is all Silver has to murmur back, his heart yearning. He’d only known Charmy as a slightly older young child when they first met, and now the bee is swiftly moving towards being a slightly younger teenager, growing a bit lankier and more independent by the day. Which has opened up something he and Espio cannot stop thinking about, a desire shared between them, first mentioned as one-off ideas that got chuckled away immediately before taking a more serious, more wanting turn over time…

A tender kiss gets pressed against his forehead, before Espio draws a deep breath and pulls away. “Careful,” Silver murmurs, the other leaning over to tug open the zipper of his backpack. There is no need for it, the Chaos Emeralds are far too sturdy to be destroyed by Espio’s gentle hands, but the anxiety coiling in Silver’s stomach grows only more with every stone that takes to floating around him. Seven in total, collected with help from everybody they hold dear to grant them this wish.

It is as if they know: they drift away with a shimmer, but before Silver can yelp or grab them with his powers they have already settled in the sky around the alter. Above the rubble in set places, like that is where they belong. “That looks about right,” Espio murmurs, backpack zipped shut again before he takes his position at Silver’s side up once more.

Silence stretches out, Silver’s heartbeat in his ears and the Emeralds glimmering ever so gently, as if they urge them to continue.

“Great Emeralds,” Espio is the first to speak up, Silver swallowing as they shuffle a bit closer. They cannot go back anymore.

“Hello,” he awkwardly adds, giving the gemstones a nod. “It’s… cold up here, is it not? I hope you’re not cold, too.”

“They’ll be fine, they’ve got plenty of Chaos energy to keep them warm,” gets murmured into his ear, before Espio clears his throat. “Great Emeralds, we have a request we would like to make of you, with your Guardian’s blessing. He said it was possible for all seven Chaos Emeralds together to grant wishes, which is why we have collected and gathered you here at this sacred site.”

Silver wishes he could swear the Emeralds glimmer more, as if to urge them on, but it is probably just his eyes playing tricks on him in his desires. “Es and I have a wish,” he adds, before falling silent. Because how can one wish for a child from seven such powerful gems and their controller without it coming off as silly, or desperate, or-?

Espio’s fingers caress his palm, ever so tenderly.

Their heads press together.

And with Espio at his side, Silver can do anything.

“We… want to raise a child, with us two,” the hedgehog murmurs, straightening out his back and staring head-on at the Master Emerald. “Any child is fine! We’ll never give birth to one ourselves, so…”

“It would be an honour if you could grand such a wish for us,” Espio continues. “As Silver said, we are not picky. A child that needs us is welcome, no matter where they come from. All we ask for is one that can grow under our care, learn how to be and exist in our world, and flourish under our love.”

The Emeralds glow.

Shimmer.

Shine.

So blindingly Silver grimaces and a hand shoot up to cover his eyes and Espio tenses beside him as well, before-!

The glow dies down, like a lightbulb that shatters and perishes, and the hedgehog blinks up stupefied at the altar.

The empty altar.

“…Did something happen?” the hedgehog is the first to speak up- though a yelp follows. “The Emeralds!”

“They’re gone?!” Espio gasps beside him; and indeed, where seven gemstones had sat in the sky, complete emptiness filled their spots now. All sparkles and glows that had filled the air around them have dissipated in full, leaving only a chilly wind and the dull Master Emerald, and the two anthros left to stare at each other.

And with nothing akin to a child in their midst.

“…Aw, come on. That’s ridiculous!” Glowering at the giant gemstone sitting so quietly in the middle of the ruins as if to mock him Silver huffs, turning around to kick madly at a rock and express his displeasure that way, Knuckles’ sacred site be darned-

Before a second yelp follows and the rock can barely in time be grabbed telekinetically before it hits a purple Chao, staring up at them from the steps.

“Lilac!” Shooting right over Silver grasps at the little one, who coos at him quietly. “Aw, lovely, I had no idea you were sitting there. How’d you get here?”

“Please don’t tell me you escaped from Knuckles’ babysitting, because that reflects very poorly on his abilities to,” Espio adds, stepping closer as well and rubbing the little one over one of her large floppy ears, as Silver always calls them. The hedgehog laughs at that; they'd left their little pet with the echidna on Angel Island to keep him company, and also because Lilac loves being in their presence at all times. So much she'll even scale the steps of the Emerald altar - terrifyingly large for a Chao, Silver presumes - to get back to them when left with somebody else, that is clear.

Lilac coos again, quietly.

Very quietly.

“I think she’s cold,” Espio murmurs, Silver carefully tucking her away into his mane and arms and rumbling out a few purrs to heat her up again. “We should… go.”

“Yeah…” Without a child, Silver does not say. But any anger he might have felt at the Emeralds for it quickly turns to disappointment, the glance sent over his shoulder at the Master Emerald sitting there so unreachably one of great worry. Had they been too brash after all, to wish for a life to intertwine with theirs in such a way? Yet Knuckles had been certain the Emeralds would be more than happy to grand such a wish…

Beside him, Espio swallows. “The Emeralds work in mysterious ways, Silver,” he speaks, encouragingly, yet Silver can hear a twinge of saddened defeat in his voice as well. “It’d have been strange if a child really did pop up out of nowhere right here, no?”

“Well… I mean, it did! Because Lilac was worried and came to find us,” Silver tries to joke, the little one in his arms getting a loving nuzzle. And to his credit, Espio laughs too, one kiss pressed against his forehead and another against Lilac’s little cheek.

“That she did. We’ll always have Lilac to raise and cherish, if this indeed was a bust.”

“The dearest little one we can ask for,” the hedgehog agrees, nuzzling their pet-turned-basically-a-daughter-already, and Lilac makes a sweet little noise of approval as she nuzzles him back.

But that is all spoken between the three of them as they return to a frantic Knuckles first, and then the bustling world below Angel Island next, and between his quiet grief of their wish not having been granted Silver cannot help but notice that Lilac is being far more silent herself, too.

~~~~~~

“What a day,” Espio groans, all but collapsing into their bed. Not very graceful or ninja-worthy, but after spending a good hour chasing Vector and Charmy downstairs and having had to clean the entire living room plus kitchen on top of a trip to Angel Island, he’s done with it all. Sleep demands he falls right into it, with Silver in his arms and Lilac tucked away in her little spot above their pillow.

The hedgehog in question stumbles through the bedroom like a zombie, golden cuffs clanking onto the desk and boots kicked against the wall. “You can say that again,” gets brought out amidst a huge yawn, and Espio hums in pleased agreement when soft fur and warm breaths roll over his scales as Silver scoots under the covers- before freezing. “Say, where is Lilac?”

“Hmm?” But indeed, the spot above them usually occupied by a cutely-snoozing Chao is entirely empty. “Strange,” Espio notes, rubbing one eye. “I did not see her go upstairs either, now that I think of it.”

“Oh no… what if she did fall ill at the altar? It was windy there!”

“Lilac’s tiny but hardy,” Espio rushes to assure his beloved, though Silver has already scrambled himself out from under the covers again. With the pout pushed away from his face – he was so nice and warm like that – the chameleon moves to follow him, Silver’s hand snugly grasped before the hedgehog can run straight through the door to get downstairs. “You’ll see, she just fell asleep downstairs, and we’ll go pick her up and bring her with us and sleep well,” he adds, even if Silver merely tersely hums in response.

Socked feet pad over the wooden flooring, Silver’s powers making quick work to conquer the creaking staircase without waking everyone else up. “Lilac?” the hedgehog softly whispers into the living room, pushing the door open a bit further. “Lovely, we must go to sleep.”

“We can warm up the heating pad for you if you’re cold,” Espio adds, knowing their little Chao has taken after Silver in that regard. And if Silver’s worries are true and she is ill, they’d best keep her all nice and cosy.

But no familiar coo follows his words.

Instead the cutest snores do, that make Espio sigh deeply in relief. "See? She's just fine, she's merely fallen asleep already," he encourages both himself and Silver as he follows the other into the living room and flicks on a dim light.

“Guess so. Look how cute, she's all tucked away,” his beloved laughs softly, gesturing to the bundle of blankets on the couch that rise and fall rhythmically.

The large bundle of blankets, Espio cannot help take note of.

That seems to contain something far larger than their little Chao, whose usually-tiny but now oh-so-loud breaths also have never made it rise and fall that much.

“Silver?” Espio inquires, tone kept perfectly even, and yet the hedgehog beside him flicks an ear with slow deliberateness as well.

“That’s actually kinda… big, isn’t it?”

“Indeed.”

“Not really like Lilac…”

“Quite so.”

“What the...?” the hedgehog murmurs under his breath, tiny sparks of cyan flitting over to grasp one end of the blanket. Slowly, ever so slowly, it gets lifted up, Espio leaning closer to see…

Two large ears peeking out from underneath it.

And attached to them lays a little girl, half-curled in on herself with her thumb stuck in her mouth and her body a shade of purple that is so familiar it makes him stagger, and Espio’s mouth falls right open as Silver’s does too.

“Lilac?” they both whisper in unison- and the way the girl smiles, and coos, so foreign yet so familiar, can mean only one thing.

And all Espio knows hours later, when he and Silver both sit dumbfounded on the couch with the sleeping little girl tucked away on the hedgehog's lap, is that when he said the Emeralds work in mysterious ways, this was not what he meant.

[fuck-you-upmusicbracket]

No Children (The Mountain Goats)

I hope that our few remaining friends/Give up on trying to save us/I hope we come up with a fail-safe plot/To piss off the dumb few that forgave us/I hope the fences we mended/Fall down beneath their own weight/And I hope we hang on past the last exit/I hope it’s already too late

I hope it stays dark forever/I hope the worst isn't over....And I'd hope that if I found the strength to walk out/You'd stay the hell out of my way

I am drowning/There is no sign of land/You are coming down with me/Hand in unlovable hand

And I hope you die/I hope we both die

"The song of all time. It's the soundtrack for countless bad vibes ships (affectionate). The phrase 'hand in unlovable hand' has immutably altered the brain chemistry of thousands with its underlying sentiment and launched a hundred accompanying memes. 'I hope you die, I hope we both die' crams such incredible rawness and depth of feeling into all of nine words. It also makes for a great singalong."

"I need to leave. I need to LEAVE. I need to get out of this situation and I'd hope that if i found the strength to walk out, you'd stay the hell out of my way. I need to leave. Please. Let me out. HAND IN UN FUCKING LOVABLE HAND"

"Just. Man. These two are so broken. They want to be in love. They aren't. They hate each other so much. They are the only ones who understand each other. They wish that they weren't so close but all they can taste is ash when they think of leaving each other. Just, mutually assured destruction tastes so sweet when you can taste the blood on their tongue."

"It's No Children."

"goddd man this song is about being an irredeemable freak with another irredeemable freak and i think that's beautiful. there's something so fuck you up ish about the person you hate and despise the most in the world also being the only other person who is like you, who gets you. im going down, but youre going down too. we can be terrible people together... even if i hate you... even if you're the fucking worst. because we don't have anyone else. there's always a sort of comfort in knowing that there's someone out there who's as terrible as you are, and maybe you only hate them because you see yourself in them a little, too. anyway clay and bloberta from moral orel"

"The sheer emotion packed into the way it’s sung, the lyrics themselves, all of it just screams ‘clinging desperately to someone you hate because you don’t have anyone else and you burned those bridges yourself’ and I find that painfully relatable"

"It's a song about both virulent self-hatred and virulent hatred of someone else and yet you see yourself intertwined with that hated person forever."

Poll runner: Do I even have to add anything? This was the tournament's most submitted song.

Agree to Stay (Liquido)

You held my hand, I slipped away/We'd sleep beneath the stars/How I hate being scared/The more I think the more I do. Still anything reminds me of yo/I smell your hair/I hear your voice/I feel you.

"Okay look for this one I have to give a little more context but... so worth it. There's this fic. Absolutely HEARTBREAKING angsty fic featuring Major Character Death that has been living rent free in my brain since I first read it. And it's UNCANNY how well the lyrics of this song fit that fic and they just make each other's effect SO MUCH WORSE (affectionate). OKAY SO. The fic. The main characters (two brothers) have been kidnapped and one has been poisoned in order to extort information from the other (which he doesn't have). The fic follows them as one gets increasingly sicker and the other increasingly worried and scared ("How I hate being scared, the more I think the more I do"). They are kept in a windowless room and they talk about how they miss the sun and how they'd sit outside in the rain and have huge windows if they ever get out ("A brick of light reveals the day", "We'd sleep beneath the stars"). They reminisce about their childhood, how they would hide from monsters in their pillow forts and now the monsters have become real ("I wish we knew a place to play, where no one could find us"). The sick one keeps trying really hard to reassure the other, even as they lose hope ("you lied to me the other day, don't keep it all inside"), the other is really scared they won't get out in time, BUT THEN when they realise the sick one hasn't got long left, his brother starts telling HIM all the reassuring lies he's been told the days before, and the LAST WORDS the sick one says as he dies, his brother holding his hand ("You held my hand, I slipped away"), are "I'm really scared, brother" ( AGAIN "How I hate being scared", but this time UNO REVERSE). Second half of the fic deals with the surviving brother trying to cope with the loss as he's eventually rescued, just a bit too late. ("How I wish I was free, the more I think the more I do. Still anything reminds me of you. I smell your hair, I hear your voice, I feel you.") JUST. WHY DO YOU HURT ME IN THIS WAY. (I made a podfic of that fic and used this song as Intro/Outro music because FUCK if I have to suffer like this so does everyone else)"

No Children submitted by @leovaldezdefender + @diogenescynic2288 + many others

[raionmimi]

Someone once told me that they loathe Medb because she objectifies people, and I can't help but agree. From her creation of Cu Alter to her relationship with Skadi, and then something Fergus mentioned twice, once in the manga and once in Summer 4. But, rather than seeing this in a negative light, as the person who mentioned this, I couldn't help but find this an interesting fault because the story, for the most part, treats this as neither fully bad or completely good Because viewing it through this lens makes Skadi and her relationship uniquely realistic because, while Medb is doing it for completely warped and selfish motives, it also highlights the fact that Skadi needs a self-severing person in her life to get over her troubles and eluvates her in such a intersting manner. Or, in another situation, how she basically earns Cu alter's respect via sheer tenacity through that viewpoint but also caused the american singularity. I had these thoughts swriling around my head the past few days I couldn't help but to wonder what the biggest Medb fan would think about this.

A lot of people, including your friend, view America as a "I have you now, my pretty" scenarios from what I've seen. America plays it up that Medb "gets to have" Cu as an object of affection. Higashide specifically wanted the player to think that, so it comes off as a surprise in the reveal when Alter admits that he's fighting for Medb's wish on his own free will the whole entire time.

(TL;DR: at the bottom before the cut)

When you go back, you realize that there is a lot of foreshadowing that this was the case the whole time. Namely that Cu Alter has so much autonomy and free will for someone who is supposedly "under control." Medb never gets mad at him when he disagrees with her, and the fact that he would debate with her at all is extremely telling when she's usually pretty pushy as a person when it comes to what she thinks is the correct line of action

Both Medb and Cu have their own ideas of what it means to be a king and a hero. For Cu, we know that he doesn't care for honors and titles, but Medb had to work her ass off to get a title for her own safety and to be taken seriously by others. Cu (probably) thought he was well meaning for telling Medb that he didn't want to hurt or kill her because she was a woman, but to her, it was insulting that he wouldn't view her as a warrior when she had gone through a fuckton to get to where she was. He accepted that he was going to die in a blaze of glory, while she can't understand how he can just go throw his life away without ever properly taking her on when everyone thinks of her as the villain of his story.

So there's an obvious disconnect between the two. The fact that they DO talk about this, change each other's minds, and disagree is where the development lays. By the end of the singularity, Alter is able to recognize Medb's efforts as a queen, which was the main validation she wanted from him. Medb also arguably understands that Cu isn't how she thought he’d be that if you notice, anytime they're together, she no longer brings up how she thinks he should act. She just thinks what he does is really cool instead, so they’ve basically gotten the chance to get to know each other better and come to some sort of understanding

The only problem is that Higashide never actually addresses the issue on Cu's end. Personally, I don't really mind tooo too much because Medb's emotions is what I care more so about in the dynamic, but it still leaves a very huge "What even are his thoughts about this?" And I dont mean Alter, I mean the original Cu. It's very clear by the stark difference in how Medb talks to Alter and Cu that she thinks Cu is much colder to her than he actually is. But she also was able to talk to Alter more genuinely because with his emotions suppressed, it was like talking to someone who would never actually respond in a way that would be too overwhelming where she'd have to be on guard. But that's only a stepping stone to the actual problem.

Cu cares a great deal about Medb as a person because if he wasn't aware of her circumstances when they were alive, he does now that they're servants. He mentioned her in HA before she was even in FGO and says that a ton of bad things happened to her and she's a product of what happened to her. But he still doesn't do anything about it in a way that's actually helpful. He treats Medb like someone he feels like he has to take care of, even if she's troublesome, instead of acknowledging his own flaws that got him into the situation with her in the first place.

He still has chivalrous view of women that can be seen as patronizing like telling Medusa in Extella that he doesnt want to fight or kill women when Medusa had the clear advantage. He chooses Nero over Tamamo because Tamamo reminded him too much of Medb. He talks about how he wants to be more reliable to Medb in his voiceline, even to the point of making a promise to her that we still have NO idea what it could possibly have been about. He avoids Medb when she's up to mischief, yet when she asks for help he is immediately willing to do whatever. Even to the point that Knocknarea in LB6 is confused as to why he's so eager and willing to help her.

Cu's thoughts are a huge piece of the puzzle missing that if you don't pay attention to how he handles Medb, it comes off as one sided when it's more like two people avoiding communicating the root of a problem.

I highly doubt that his side would ever occur as the closest there has come to being critical of Cu's actions is the consequences of his thing with Fand and Emer in the Vday events with Caren and Bazett. Do agree that sometimes, other writers will just use Medb's love for him as a gag to idk fill up the spaces or something. It can be funny but if that's all she does, then ya I get the criticisms esp when their actual convos are way funnier. I have more thoughts on them, but I've already wrote so much lmao

Very cool and poggers of the manga to have Cu Alter kneeling down and accepting a kiss from her tho

TL;DR: Medb and Cu have lore to build off of + that there are flaws to be addressed. Makes the subtle growth very cool and leeway for further Medb development and complexities.

---

Putting the rest under the cut because I'm critical of the way Sakurai writes Medb and Skadi. Read if u want, but know that I'm kind of a hater so I'd rather you look at something you like instead.

Sakurai's writing with Skadi doesn't have the benefit of lore to easily play around with though. TL;DR at the bottom.

The problem is that the writers never really fleshed out Scathach that much, nor did they have the latter interact much with Medb. The whole premise of this dynamic is that Medb thinks Skadi is Scathach and she's surprised that "Scathach is acting different than she usually does" and keeps trying to get Skadi to act "like she usually does"

But Medb doesn't even really know Scathach, they hardly talked. Like ever. There's like 5 lines of dialogue from between 2018 to now between the two across the American singularity to events and voice lines. Most of the time, they don't even directly talk to each other. Unlike her thing with Alter, Medb has never come to an understanding with Scathach, nor does she really have any reason to care about her

The writing has to rely on existing character dynamics that... was hardly there to begin with makes it crumble that much faster to me personally. It'd make more sense if they had actually written a LOT of interaction with each other to the point of them influencing each other's characters, whether in a positive or negative way. But as it stands, it'd make more sense for Medb to react to the gap difference between Ushi and Taira than Scathach and Skadi because the writers chose to give more depth to Ushi and Medb as frenemies.

I was never a fan of Medb Skadi writing because it comes off as a cheap way to introduce Skadi into the Chaldea dynamics. It's nothing like Ushi or Ex and Medb, Knocknarea and Castoria's level of development, where it'd make sense. Not to mention, nothing about Skadi is remotely what Medb is interested in. If it had been the other way around, where Skadi was introduced first and then Scathach showed up, it'd make a bit more sense given who Medb usually hangs out with or talks to

Sakurai mainly utilizes Medb as a mouthpiece of how cute and uwu Skadi is rather than having any meaningful development between the two across multiple events. It just gets weird and sometimes even creepy at times, esp when you remember Higashide's Medb had never been sexual towards Alter. But Sakurai's Medb sexually harasses Skadi when Medb herself is a SA victim?? And she writes Medb as calling herself tainted in a diff event????? Even Minase treated Medb better in the Prisma Illya event. Like, I don't hate Sakurai, but she can be very hit or miss with me on certain things.

You can compare Skadi to almost any other character that Medb has interacted with, and it's severely lacking. Neither one's lore is really addressed until Skadi's interlude and even then, Medb doesn't really have much to do with it, she's just "I will lend you a Cu (caster) because I'm already holding two Cu's hands right now"

I don't mind if people like Skadi, but I just don't think Sakurai handles Medb and Skadi well together. It comes off as either shoe horned yuri bait at worst, and not knowing where to put Skadi since she didn't have much connection to any character in her LB at best that she just slapped her onto Medb for the vague Scathach connection. There is no lessons learned, no real understanding of each other, and it's just Medb doing what she wants. There's no balance or substance that I personally like

I admit that I have not read her summer event parts to know how she develops with other characters though. I'm still very :// about the transphobia with her changing Caeneus's spirit origin without his consent because she "wanted Caeneus to fit in with the other girls" which doesn't help much when she calls Caeneus tainted because of their SA in the lostbelt.

I just don't really care much for the character or the writing between her and medb, so that's why you'll hardly ever see me talk about her.

Apologies because I know you went in talking positively, but I agree with your friend on this one. It does come heavily across as objectification and one of those ships you'd meme on as "gay ship for straight ppl (with a male audience in mind specifically)" and is not treated well, so I personally ignore it.

TL;DR: I dont like Skadi writing or Medb/Skadi writing. I do not mind if other do tho, so like its just do ya own thing, yfeel?

Anyways, ship Castoria x Knocknarea

[womenfrommars]

Hey, Juno, how you're doing? If you don't mind, I'd like to know your opinion on a trans issue. I had my peak trans moment almost two weeks ago and I've been in contact with gender critical rhetoric ever since. Recently, I came across a reflection about how weirdly powerful the Trans movent is, changing laws (even the legal definition of sex), conquering spaces in politics, media and uni programs... Something other social movements, like feminism and the black movement never did (not like the trans movement at least). And I do agree in a way, but I can't help being skeptical about the strength of this idea when we witness trans folks being murdered, suffering because of lack of opportunities, being kicked away from home... In a way, I do believe the Trans movement is uncommonly powerful and that's sus, but at the same time I accept trans folks still face a lot of hardships because of their gender identity. Is it wrong to assume both things at the same time?

Hi anon, I don't think these ideas are necessarily inherently contradictory. The fact a political movement (in this case, the transgender movement) is gaining momentum doesn't necessarily translate into the idea that the average transsexual has a wonderful life. The transgender movement claims to advocate for transgenders but personally I find it doubtful to what degree they succeed in doing so. They mostly advocate for legal changes which are supposed to benefit the social and mental well-being of transgenders. Think making it easy to legally alter your gender, or make cross-sex hormones more financially affordable. But studies indicate the overall quality of life of transgenders is not tremendously improved post-ex reassignment surgery. Most notably the rate of suicidality is just as high as pre-surgery.

I find that the transgender movement can be very manipulative with statistics. It is claimed that only 3% of transgenders have regrets about their transition. This figure is based on a Dutch follow-up study that exclude roughly 30% of the initial patients from the follow-up. Either they refused to cooperate with the study or they couldn't be reached. So we have no idea what happened to this group. Lots of detransitioners feel resentful to the point they cut off all contact with their doctors so many are not included in follow-up trials. And it is sad to say but it is definitely a possibility some died of suicide

Another example is the homocide rate of transgenders. Most figures being thrown around are based on studies in South America that mostly follow transsexual prostitutes. Those people are not representative of Western, middle-class transgenders at all. Even when you take a look at the homocide rate for US-based transgenders, it is significantly higher than the US national average yes, but that actually disappears when you account for racial background. The vast majority of the victims are Afro-American and to a lesser degree Latino American. The homocide rate for white American transgenders is lower than the US national average (and also lower than that for white Americans specifically). It is hard to find statistics that account for other factors such as sexual orientation and socio-economic background. I think most of the hardships that some transgenders face can be best explained by them being homosexual and/or of being of an ethnic minority, usually combined with lower income. I bet you have heard various stories in the media about the suffering of transsexuals, and 9 out of 10 times, they showcase a homosexual transsexual rather than a heterosexual one, despite the fact that in clinics today, most male-to-female patients are heterosexual. The ones who are kicked out of their parental home, who end up in prostitution, get involved with drugs, etc etc are from what I can tell almost always MTF homosexual

I really implore you to look more into these matters as statistics can be very easily manipulated to fit a certain political narrative. That is not to say we should not also have compassion for those who do suffer and look for social and political solutions. But fast-tracking pre-pubescent children into a transition process is very unlikely to increase well-being for the transgender population, which is the usual answer coming from the transgender movement

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

@monthly-challenge 2024 | 3. Banter

I used this prompt for my original characters, Nathan and Patience: the story is under the cut.

Word count: 1,033

Patience was playing the piano again as Nathan stuck his head in the door. This time she abandoned it as soon as he walked in, getting up from the creaking stool with a spontaneous smile.

“Are you ever going to tell me when you come?” she queried. “I mean, walk in anytime, but you seem to just pop up.”

“Like a fungus,” he agreed calmly. “Yes, it’s my finest strategy.”

“Strategy?”

“To make you fall in love with me.”

“Too late,” she said, and flushed. “Um. I didn’t intend to say that.”

“But you meant it,” he prodded, a triumphant smile growing on his face. “Didn’t you?”

“Well, I can’t say I didn’t,” she agreed easily. “‘Course I love you, Nathan.” Sudden doubt cooled her warmth. “Don’t you love me?”

For an instant—only an instant—he stammered, but in that moment his way with her was lost. Then he said that yes, of course he loved her, but by then Patience was already drawing back. In an altered tone, she remarked, “Well! Isn’t it such beautiful weather we’re having?”

“Yes,” he concurred, and hastily, “Patience—”

“—And my mother was wanting to have guests over for dinner; in fact she asked if you would be available, but I told her you probably wouldn’t. It’ll be a fine day for them: we might even eat outside. The heights of luxury, indeed!” She did not wait for him, though he tried to break into the conversation. “Such a shame you can’t join us,” she continued, a spark of anger flashing in her eyes, “but that’s the way things are.”

“Oh, I can—”

“Ah, so sad! It’s too late, Mum has already gone to the shops. She’d be short if you came. A pity.”

“But—”

“Another time,” Patience steamrollered on. “Anyway, I think I had something to do—I can’t come for a walk, if that was what you were coming to ask, Nathan—so sorry—”

And before he could apologise or even make his case for just why he’d stammered over the information, Patience had swept out of the room, smiling brittlely.

She was seething.

She should have known not to fall for someone who cared less than she did! How could she be so colossally stupid? Oh, but she thought he cared. She thought he loved her.

How much of an idiot could Patience be? Was this just another autism thing? Was she trusting him too quickly, too lightly, without the true love between them that she’d thought existed?

She walked straight through the house and out of the back door, beginning to shake. There were probably sobs, tied up back there somewhere, but right now it was just overwhelming. Her hands shook as she pressed them against her face. The warm breeze caressed the tears that were already beginning to fall.

She kept pacing, around and around and around as if she could make a physical manifest of the spiral her thoughts were entering. She was beyond this! surely! Yet she still shook and sobbed.

It was at least ten minutes before she became aware of a voice behind her, gentle and much loved. She gasped and whirled sharply. “Go away,” she said through tears, but Nathan still stood there.

“My dear,” he said. “I know I’ve upset you, and I’m sorry.”

“Go away!” She sounded like a petulant toddler, but could not find it in her to care at this moment. She just wanted him gone.

“Listen, I’ll go if you really want me to, but I wanted to say I love you,” he said. His expression was warm. “I do love you, Patience, and I hope—I hope we can figure this out in a way that doesn’t involve overreacting.”

“Oh, tell me I’m overreacting!” she flashed, pressing her hands once more to her face. “Tell me all you like!”

“My very dear,” he said steadily, “would it be better for me to stay and keep apologising, or go away and come back later? I want nothing but the best for you.”

She shook her head without speaking, and he nodded hesitantly and went back inside.

####

Patience took a long time to calm down. She rarely, now, got so worked up about anything, but when she did, it took a long time to wind down. She hated herself, and cried over it more than once; her head was pounding and she felt like a wrung-out dishcloth before she was ready to talk to Nathan again. On the counsel of her mother she waited overnight before walking to his house in the morning.

It was the right decision; the morning was fresh and clear, with early sunlight and cool breezes on her face. She was still tired out, but not so much as she had been, and ready to face her boyfriend again, and apologise for her overreaction. There was explanation, but not excuse.

They met halfway.

He carried a hurriedly assembled bouquet of wildflowers he had passed on his way: not the most beautiful, but made out of love, and her heart soared as she saw him.

“I’m sorry,” they said at once, and then stopped and laughed together, those two happily reunited lovers.

“Joy comes in the morning, indeed!” said Nathan, offering her the bouquet. “I prayed and mourned over us all night, Patience, truly. I worried we’d ruined everything.”

“I’d ruined everything,” she corrected soberly. “My dear Nathan, I am sorry. I did overreact, I just—I don’t know. I get silly like that sometimes. And if you wanted to go for a walk today I’d be up for it; I could use a bit of time stretching my legs, and I think we need to have a good hard conversation to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

“Exactly as I was about to say,” he replied. His expression was serious, but mirth and light danced in his eyes. “We can—”

“—finish each other’s sentences,” she guessed, and was rewarded by a laugh from the other.

“Well done, my Patience, well done!” he said, right merrily. “We are still ‘on’, aren’t we?”

“We are that,” she replied fondly, hiding her face in the flowers. “If you’ll still have me.”

tagging @stealingmyplaceinthesun@graycedelfin@pilgrimsofworship and @choasuqeen