#[that just feels so fatalistic. and i could have an off day here & there i wanna get on. dont wanna commit to silence hskghjg]

[makerofmadness]

Dark Cacao Cookie (II AU)

(relevant posts: general AU post, DC dialogue post, GC explained post)

So fun fact: I'm not Christian and neither is my family but I remember maman like gave me those like cheap cardboard advent calendars around Christmas time when I was little because . Chocolate . I think sometimes I'd just eat several chocolates in a day dndndndd anyways this is relevant because You know how those like 50% of the time have really bad sugar blooms that are like. All powdery and ruin the texture but I still ate them i think even though they tasted like depression.

anyways here's chocolate with depression:

(haha see my tirade was actually relevant to this-)

He was the second to go. He had never let himself shed a tear at the Ivory Pagoda, even throughout those long, agonizing millennia spent effectively just waiting. Waiting for the day that it would be the right time. Not even being certain that those Cookies they were fighting for would come about again under a different reign. That his son would even exist in this time. That he'd never get to tell him a truly heartfelt "I love you" as his father again, and hold him in his arms.

He went on dutifully granting the wishes of all those Cookies that looked up to him. Some he developed a degree of closeness with, others would just come to him for what he could do- but he would provide, no matter how big the burden got. It was nothing compared to the feelings carried by his heart; to him, it only distracted from them. He wouldn't be like his predecessor.

...but his grief became too much to bear, and one day, after overhearing some of those traveller Cookies whisper of how the kingdom northeast had "fallen from grace." She had written to all of them just saying that she was busy, as odd as the tone of her writing read, she said not to worry about her. To keep meeting with each other as if everything was fine. This had gone on for... how long had it been since they'd last seen her, again? He realized what the wider Cookie world had yet to: The first of the five had fallen. After all that agonizing time trying to hold out till the future, had they really just been doomed form the start, wasting their time trying to outrun a fate that was waiting right in front of them to swallow them whole...?

Every feeling that has piled on top of itself had finally burst a hole through his heart, and he had to run away, to seclude himself within the Grand Temple. Cloud Haetae Cookie had to keep outside Cookies away from their master as he wept from deep within. And wept. And wept. And couldn't stop weeping. No one could reach him, if they even wanted to try. They didn't, as they tended to be driven off by the wailing from the temple...

He had never been in so much pain. Everything hurt so much. Every single memory, every feeling attached to them- all those joys and sorrows and angers alike began to blur as the agony of knowing that he'd never get to experience those days, those Cookies again- it all consumed him there alone. Every feeling led back to pain. Every feeling was pain. If all he felt was pain, then it'd be better not to feel anything at all.

Such was his last resolve. It would make everything so much easier- the cruel inevitable fate, the loved ones he'd never see again as anything but their enemy, the time dragged on to infinity- if he were to just become numb to it all. If he felt no pain. If he felt nothing at all.

By the time he finally emerged, there were still some Cookies visiting the temple, mourning his long-storied loss. Cookies who had never even known him

He decided to free them from their pain.

-

Present character:

Fatalistic. He is doing what he is supposed to as the Beast of Apathy, and does not have his own will or beyond that. At least not much of one.

He uses his sword to create endless snow storms. Those who get caught out in the snow for too long will find themselves slowly losing the will to carry on...

The Bloom of Apathy (or as it will be dubbed by the Dark Cacao Kingdom, Sugarbloom Syndrome) does not directly cause cookies to disappear the way that the Pale Ailment had. Instead, it simply makes them those the will to sustain themselves, until they become completely apathetic to whether or not they survive, to whatever may happen to them and those around them.

"Endless" is more so "until he decides to stop them." He can control how long they last, as well as the range of them.

Has never been very fond of Cloud Haetae Cookie, but never seemed to hate them- at least, he didn't let it show that he disliked them before, and he isn't really capable of it now.

His wings do not fly.

His tear flow was so continuous that by the time it finally dried, his eyecing had ran permanently.

He does not really spend time with Cookies except for a certain group, with sole exception given to Peach Blossom Cookie, but it isn't exactly what one would call a traditional friendship. It is more so that... they have a strange sort of tradition. Peach Blossom sees him come up the mountain and offers him a peach bao; Dark Cacao refuses. And... he actually may stop to engage in what could be considered small talk. As minor and flavorless on his end as it typically is...

Tends to fall silent.

Does not resist others' attempts to do what they wish around or to him, or to say what they please. He will defend himself physically, though. Not even he knows why. He thinks it's just him being driven by some unseen force of fate, but...

His dough is cold to the touch. It's also quite chalky in the bloomed spots.

He does not have much personality left, really, thanks to his suppressed erased emotions.

He does not truly wish to do what he's doing. He will bring apathy upon the Cookie World because it is what he is supposed to do. If he did not have that, well, he does not have any desires of his own anymore except to just be with his friends in peace, so he would do nothing at all.

To end this off: uh, this is I guess "spoilers" but. I decide what's spoilers and what isn't actually so

you know the spider boss? BY 3-30? (That I still haven't beaten on hard-)

. well . It has a replacement here.

And it Is Cacao.

(He would clarify that there is a difference between a Cookie becoming a dragon and a dragon becoming a Cookie- so, no, he is not a real dragon)

(Thanks once again to @driftwoodmfb for the art and also for the design on this!)

[abronzeagegod]

Eldritch Tech Support 4

more eldritch tech support stories

Today was a slow day for you. You didn't have much work come in, and you're just hanging out in the call center waiting for one of the field techs to call you with a problem. So far, you haven't had anything to do really. Some minor problems, nothing too complicated. It's been a good day to do nothing and get paid.

Then you get the call.

"How can I-" you start but are immediately cut off by very loud yelling.

"IT'S LYTHA!" your coworker yells on the line. Normally you'd have to go through security and employee ID numbers and job listings and stuff, but this sounds bad. "I NEED YOU TO CALL EXTERMINATORS! FUCK FUCK FUCK! THERE'S A SPIDER WITH SEVEN HEADS AND IT'S VERY MAD!"

You swear out loud, and slap the red alarm button.

The red light flashes over your desk and you can tell the call center has gone utterly silent as all non-job related tasks immediately stop.

You keep Lytha's line open as you quickly call up her jobs. She's currently on a job out in the Clutches.

"Employee needs exterminators," you say into a second line that opened the moment you pushed the button. "Employee 1419 is on site at 311 North Vellaturine, in the Clutches. Reports of multiheaded spiders-"

"FUCKING SHIT! I THINK THERE'S SOME TENTACLE THING HERE TOO!" Lytha yelled over the phone loud enough to be heard across the silent room. "MY GUESS IS SOMETHING FROM THE VOID AND ONE OF THE HELLS ARE HERE AND THEY'RE FIGHTING OR FUCKING OR BOTH!"

You repeat, with less color commentary, what Lytha reported to the Exterminators.

The Exterminator's operator acknowledged what you were saying. "Understood. Class One operation approved, Exterminators are en route to your location. Be advised heavy weaponry has been approved, as has magic. Please inform anyone in the building to evacuate immediately, police have been informed."

"Lytha!" you say to your coworker. "Lytha! The Exterminators are coming! Get out of there!"

"I'M FUCKING TRYING BUT ALL THE DOORS LEAD TO OTHER DIMENSIONS!"

"Oh... shit," you say. You repeat this to the Exterminators who do something that you never thought you'd live to hear.

"Oh fuck."

The Exterminators are the badasses of the tech world, fixing creatures and beings and banishing things that shouldn't be here. To have them be worried, that chills you to your soul and spine.

"Be advised, we have a level zero breach," the operator said. "Repeat, be advised we have a level zero breach."

You're dimly aware of the fact that there is no movement, no sound in the call center. Everyone is listening to your conversation without breathing or speaking.

"We are sending in the Knight of Doors," the operator said. "We're doing our best to get there as fast as possible. Do whatever you can to keep your people alive and safe."

Your boss was standing behind you and didn't even notice until she started yelling. "Kel! You did that job for the Chaos Seekers last month, get them on the phone and ask for a Blessing Against the Chaos for Lytha!" Their other head turned and pointed at another tech support person. "Devin! Find out if that war demon we helped a few months back is willing to offer a War Boon to our people!" You then feel a hand on your shoulder. You boss turns to you. "Do your best, and if you have a favorite god now is a good time."

A flurry of activity exploded into the tech center. People started calling up friends, clients, and even a few rivals to see if there was something that they could do to help out their coworker.

But all of that cut out when Lytha screamed over the phone, a scream that sounded bad.

"OH FUCK!"

"Help is coming, Lytha!" you say instantly into the phone, trying to remain somewhat calm and stamp down on the tremor and fear in the voice. "The Knight of Doors is coming!"

"Oh that's good," Lytha says with lots of hard breathing. "I'll have something attractive to look at as I go out and a nice voice in my ear."

"Don't do that," you scold. "Don't be fatalistic!" Your trying to fight back the emotions.

"We had some good times. The chaos of this whole thing is really quite interesting if you think about it. And this will be an excellent story to tell later."

Your boss touches your shoulder again. "It's ok," she whispers with one mouth, "the Chaos Seekers gave Lytha a blessing, but it comes with some... side effects. Like being a bit too into the whole 'Abyss is beautiful and deserves our respect and admiration' thing. She's not actively dying."

"Oh, thank fuck," you mutter. You focus back on Lytha, "Well you'll just have to tell me all about it over several drinks later."

"Advisement, Exterminators are on scene. Police ETA 3 minutes. Knight of Doors is Traveling," chimes in the operator.

There's the sounds of crashing and fighting on the line from Lytha.

"Holy shit," Lytha breathes out in reverential awe. "The Knight is something else."

The sounds from the phone are impossible to describe. The sounds of combat and chaos and hell and the magic of the Exterminators combine with more conventional sounds of weapons fire.

"Asset retrieved," said a deep and dark voice that you feel in your bones. "We are traveling to safety."

Suddenly Lytha's line went dead.

The call center has gone entirely silent once again.

The moment of silence is interrupted when a shining door suddenly appears next to your desk. The door was massive, easily 10 feet tall and 5 feet wide and made of a color that you can't quite fathom but your brain manages as "blue?"

The blue? door opens and out walks Lytha, covered in slime and blood followed by the Knight of Doors. They barely fit through their own door.

Contrary to the name the Knight wears almost no armor, but their skin looks like it could be an armor of its own. Dark, smooth, but sharp rock-like armor covers their body. They clear have some lineage directly connected to the Children of the Earth. The Knight was big in every way and extremely attractive with a massive sword and battle axe on their back.

"There you are," says the deep but soft voice of the Knight that covered you like warm molasses. "You are safe now. You should seek medical attention. I shall return to the battle."

"Thank you," Lytha says with a little smile.

"Wow," you say, stunned.

The Knight nods and walks through their blue? door once again.

Your boss heaves a heavy sigh of relief. "Ok, everyone! Take a twenty minute break, get your legs back, and then we really should return to work." Then your boss turns to you, "Take Lytha and get her to a hospital."

You nod and take Lytha's hand and pull her towards the exit and the hospital.

---

Three days later, the Exterminators and the police manage to contain the situation.

It turned out that Lytha was called in to clean off the viruses on the computer used by a den of drug dealers who were cooking some very illegal drugs, the kind of drugs that require ingredients from the Abyss.

The drug makers, being incredibly intelligent, made deals with devils to get the ingredients which resulted in the turf war between one of the numerous hells and the Abyss.

Then Lytha was called because several members of the drug dealers had a laptop that they used to go to many suspicious and shady websites.

Lytha was fine, she suffered a few injuries that required many large needles to inject her with various antibodies and such. She had to spend only two nights in the hospital but only for observation. You stayed the entire time.

if you liked this let me know, maybe consider buying me a kofi, i'd appreciate it very much

[riley1cannon]

Trick or Treat! Thank you 🎃🎃

Yay, thank you! Here you go, a little bit of a BBC Sherlock/ACD canon mash up fic I started once upon a time, and occasionally think about completing. It was meant to be for Halloween, in fact, with thrills and chills (so I hoped), so it seems appropriate:

Sid sat up straighter and reached for the pile of documents he had deposited on the table among the tea things. “They are, yes. Don’t you see, Dr. Watson, these faux societies modeled themselves after the Société des Corps D'elite. The Société des Corps D'elite is who the Illuminati and all the others aspire to be. Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson,” Sid earnestly appealed to them both, and there was something so authentic in that gravity of manner that Sherlock almost wished he could believe him, “I realize what I’m telling you sounds fantastic but if you would only look at my evidence,”—here came another sheaf of papers, some typed, some handwritten notes, all stapled and clipped together—“you would understand. Here,” he pulled one document free and held it out, “just look at this. It clearly shows the connection between the Society and the Hellfire Club--”

“No.” Sherlock held up a hand to forestall him. He had heard enough now. “No. We have gone from cryptids and sacrificial rites to Spring-Heeled Jack and the Illuminati, and now arrive at Sir Francis Dashwood and the Hellfire Club? No, enough.” He extended a long arm, finger pointed at the door. “Leave, now.”

“Mr. Holmes--” Sid stood and began to gather his papers and books. He dropped some, and then dropped some more as he stooped to retrieve the first batch. “Mr. Holmes, you are making a terrible mistake. This is real. You must look into it.” He continued to implore even as Sherlock escorted him to the door. “Culverton Smith and Grimsby Roylott are the Society’s most treacherous agents but Baron Gruner’s up to his neck as well, and--” He broke off then as though he finally grasped his failure to make a convincing case. Disappointment and a kind of fatalistic resignation crept over his expression as he murmured, “I expected so much more of you, Mr. Holmes.”

Unaccountably stung by that last comment, Sherlock shut the door firmly as Sid Persano took his leave at last. He waited a moment and then crossed quickly to the windows where he plucked aside a curtain to watch as Sid emerged from 221 and stood, hapless and forlorn, on the sidewalk. As John came over to join him, Sherlock asked, “Is this where you tell me that was a bit harsh?”

“Thought that could be taken as read.” John peered out at Baker Street where Sid still lingered, shifting his bundle of papers and books. “He does need help.”

“Consulting detective is not a term synonymous with psychiatrist.”

“And just because someone has an irrational obsession doesn’t mean they can’t be in real danger.”

No, no it didn’t. And Sherlock couldn’t deny that the one thing that had rung crystal clear and authentic throughout the entire interview was that Sid Persano was profoundly afraid.

And because I feel extra generous (and am bemoaning that once again I didn't have anything to post for Halloween), here's a preview of a fic I dearly do want to complete one day:

~Vampires of Gotham~

Klarion the Witch Boy was infuriated...

“Pfft!” He spat at the television screen as the local news carried on with its coverage of Casey Stirling’s appearance in Gotham City tonight. Author of the inexplicably popular Grymwood Chronicles, this Stirling woman was scheduled to do a book signing at the Page Turners book shop where her latest volume of hackneyed paranormal twaddle would make its debut.

Would Eden Cordray, tortured vampire with a soul, finally proclaim her love for dashing adventurer/inventor Ransom Wingate? If she did, how could Eden ever resist the temptation to turn Ransom and keep him at her side forever? What of brooding and beautiful Father Alexi, torn between devotion to God and the charms of that femme fatale of a sorceress, Isidora Thane? Had the twins, Verity and Jack, finally unearthed the truth of who had murdered Professor Farradine two books ago, and why? And could the true mastermind behind everything be quiet and unassuming Cecily Dillane, everyone’s best friend and confidant, keeper of all the secrets?

Not that Klarion cared a whit. He had neither read any of the novels nor watched the equally successful films based upon them. His knowledge had been gathered as he lurked on fan sites filled with endless chatter on these and many other matters. The sheer minutia of these fans’ obsession often came near to driving him mad. To gain some relief, he sometimes responded to their postings anonymously to correct misconceptions about sorcery, vampires, or the djinn, or simply to point out how thoroughly feeble minded they all must be, always in an ultra-supercilious manner so as to guarantee the most dramatic hissyfits and demands that he go be a troll elsewhere.

This amusement had its limits, however, and as he watched the zealous acolytes of Casey Stirling lined up outside the bookstore, many of them costumed so as to mimic a favorite character, Klarion felt a powerful urge to do something far more profound.

 “What eldritch horrors should we unleash upon them?” he murmured as his cat, Teekl, curled itself around his shoulders and purred a suggestion into his ear—a perfectly wonderful, awful idea that made Klarion rub his hands together and smile with a glow of pure malevolence. “Yes,” he said as he warmed to it. “They dote upon these romantic incarnations of supernatural terrors but how would it be, eh, if the real thing walked among them?” This could make for glorious mischief indeed!

 “Come, Teekl, we have work to do…”

 ~*~

“Spoilers, Master Timothy,” Alfred warned as the boy persisted in skimming through The Necromancer’s Notebook. “We shall uncover its secrets soon enough,” he added and hefted his own copy as they edged ever closer to the front of the line.

Tim closed the book with noticeable reluctance. “I know I’m right about Cecily,” he said.

“We shall see.” 

Tim flipped to the back of his copy again, this time to check the page count. “Eight hundred and seventy-five… You know I can’t go online again until I’ve read the whole thing,” he said, a fretful note in his young voice.

“We shall apply our best efforts to the endeavor, never fear.” Where some books with such an inflated page count could easily be trimmed by at least a third and be none the worse for it, Miss Stirling was the rare author who truly delivered what was commonly known as bang for the buck. Alfred would not find it a chore to keep pace with Tim’s literary marathon.

“I still think you should have dressed up,” Tim said as he tugged at the collar of his own neat cassock, a twin to the one worn by the tortured priest, Alexi. “With your chauffeur's livery and a really cool pair of goggles you’d be just like Zedekiah Zane.”

Alfred appreciated the comment. Zedekiah was, after all, the most trusted confidante of Ransom Wingate. “Alas, I fear my cosplay days are long behind me, Master Timothy,” Alfred said and cast a look about at the colorful array of steampunk gothic adventurers, vampires, scholars, sorcerors, and others too numerous to catalog, “Besides, this family dresses up quite enough as it is.”

[originemesis]

@deathinfeathers xxx

"Are you going to keep rubbing that shit in my face for the rest of our brimstone besprinkled lives? I wasn't hunting you down! You were dead!! I was hunting down the bitch who I assumed was wearing your GODDAMNED GRUB EATEN SKIN!!" It sounds significantly more deranged when you say it out loud, doesn't it? But it seemed reasonable enough of an assumption at the time. More reasonable than the notion that he'd survived the pygmy slut's assault and crawled off to suck on some flat-faced degenerate plutocrat in a shitty suit anyhow. "And for your information--" There she goes, swinging her legs over the lip of the sill she'd been riveted to for the past five hours and taking to her feet. An accusatory finger is jabbed in his direction like the business end of a blessed spear. She presses onwards. "--he was actually pretty torn up about the whole ordeal!" Torn up about how torn up she was, rather, but torn up all the same. Of course that had changed when the true extent of his dirty dealings had come to light...at this point in time she wouldn't put it past Michael to do a little celebratory jig if he did manage to relieve Adam of his head. God, his fatalistic frame of mind is infuriating. She wants to fight, make no mistake about that. She wants the catharsis that always accompanies a good ol' noisy squabble, it never lasts but it feels good in the moment; a release. But she wants to feel bad afterwards, because she was unduly cruel, maybe stew in it for an hour or two before the compulsion to apologize takes the reigns and she drags her feet over to do just that. Apoligize. And when she has said her sorries, and he has said his, then she wants everything to be alright again. To bid adieu to another shitty ass day, crawl under the sheets and fall asleep to the smell of his skin, the sound of his breathing, the feeling of his warmth seeping into her flesh... She wants to fight—but it's all so exhausting. That scornful digit falls from the air to hang limply at her side like a popped balloon, before she has a chance to prod at his chest with it. "Adam—" A breath squeezed through pinched lips, she turns to hunch over the kitchen counter, elbows on the edge, head planted firmly in the cradle of her palms. "—can you please—please try to work with me here. Or, alternatively, tell me to fuck off if that's what you'd prefer...to go back to whatever life and identity you've carved out for yourself here? I will. I'll leave you be if you tell me to...I'll handle Michael, he's not going to be a persistent hurdle to you...but I need to hear you say it...if you don't want me around i need you to tell me—right now."

"I JUST SO HAPPENED TO BE 'THAT BITCH'- in case you forgot!? Like shit, Lute! I mean, I appreciate the sentiment and all, but you really couldn't recognize me? MY helmet at least stayed the fucking same!" Unlike hers...her whole being, really. He's still not sure what sorts of angel steroids that Sera could have sprinkled her with, but the evidence of a promotion that never was supposed to come to pass under his leadership was evident even now without all the frills of a uniform in place. Granted, he was never supposed to end up face first in a used condom filled ditch in hell either, so maybe she was on to something... grotesque as she had to put it- like always.

Sending a still sore about it scowl over towards her perch, it's with a lesson learned back pivot that he slides the hulking weight of his frame back onto a heel as she jabs at him. Her angelic weapon might not be out for another branding round, but he'd had enough of an encounter with it skinning the neck flap of his helmet that even the gesture of a spear had his remaining feathers fluffed in alarm. "Please- it's not like you're obligated to pat my ass down here. We both know he could give zero fucks with that mic-ropenis of his." No, he wasn't against making Mic-centric jokes still. If anything, they helped smooth his feathers down as he paced the length of the apartment under her unrelenting gaze. Considering he's all she has left now up behind the big, pearly-gates, the late Commander's not sure she'll share in his cathartic name calling, but it can't hurt that its brought his voice down a couple of octaves and the weight of his gaze light enough to swivel up under heavy lashes to listlessly consider her next round of tumultuous tweets.

"Babe—?"

He huffs back before she can project more of what he can only assume is more of her frustrations with the situation-... with him. Her complaints don't fall on deaf ears, though the hints of hell-grown feathers near where the tufts of his hair and the tops of his lobes meet flare backwards as if to cover them or at least filter the tone of her request until it convinced him to ride the long, hissing exhale of his lungs to a patch of level ground between them- mainly the counter top. Tucking in beside her, he propped his chin up on a palm and a fanned set of talons while the golden pinpricks in his toasted gaze swiveled sideways to regard her the way an entirely too tired cat might observe a bird through a bay window. "I didn't carve shit, y'know? I never wanted you to have to be around me like...well-" Gaze dropping to study the curves of the set of claws he rested upon the counter in front of him, he curled their tips under the harmless ends of hell-charred knuckles and sighed. "-like this...zero dick energy disaster." A light shuffle of his weight from one shoulder to the one closest to her indicated he still felt some magnetism to her despite the shame-riddled sentiment. "But that never changed the fact that I needed you...that I don't know how to even be without you. All this life you say I carved? Was just me clawing the fuck out of everything just to keep my head above the surface of this complete and utter shit show!"

With a dropped sigh, he scooted the balled up fist over to where she'd tucked her head. A light press of knuckles against the side of her cheek coaxed another cautious rumble out of his chest. "You gotta understand- I been through this before. Always falling short of what they wanted...expected. Ending up alone. I can't handle it again- not with you. Because unlike my previous 'tasks' from heaven, I actually chose this. I chose YOU...so I can't be here when you decide this-" A soft grunt aimed down at himself and the flick of a tail as it coiled around his calf signaled his unease, but he shook at it like a wet dog. "-was never what you wanted in the end."

With a shift, he swiveled on the barstool to face inwards, cheek still propped precariously in his palm as he addressed her with a strained frown, lips a twitch from parting into a puff. "Because I-...fucking hell, Lute..." Thoughts of her perched in his lap with clumsy fingers lingering over the notes on an old bass he'd insisted on showing her coaxed the lightest quirk to the corner of his mouth, his eyes flashing with the sentiment his lips seemed hung on.

I fucking love you. "...don't leave."

[setsuntamew]

Rules: Share the first line of ten of your most recent fanfics and then tag ten people. Don't have ten? Not to worry, just share what you have.

No one tagged me; I just found this shit wandering around tumblr...as it goes. And I wanted to do it because it looked fun and I wanted to be included in the fun :D

The first week of school has come and gone- mostly. It’s the same shit with different labels, as always, and the same dump of "this is so important, your entire academic future depends on it" speeches as always. (Finding Hope Like Bleeding Cowboys at Destiny's Crossroads, vashwood + millionsummers mid-00s high school au)

He can’t remember anything before he wandered his way here and fell victim to the mercy of others. (memories and melodies within, Eriks!Vash feat. amnesia and music)

Akira has never thought of himself as a romantic, but he can’t shake the almost sickly feeling he gets when he dwells on memories of that afternoon in the nurse’s office. (practice, extremely fucked up/dead dove do not eat marushu)

Zazie doesn’t pick sides; they’re more interested in their own shit and their own family and most importantly: staying alive. (No Sides, Zazie/Razlo mafia au drabble)

Roxas was dreaming, or at least he thought so. (Camp Friendship, akuroku + sorikai camp au that I've been writing on and off since 2006)

things that did not happen in a love affair are things that happened in a love affair (not a love poem, millionsummers poem from Legato pov)

Legato has the power to support anyone he wants and destroy anyone who gets in his way; Legato has powers beyond anyone else, stronger and more refined than anyone with similar powers, and in a class above everyone else: he could choose whoever he wanted and change their fate. (Twist of Fate, millionsummers fantasy au drabble)

Legato can do anything for Master Knives; Legato will do anything for Master Knives; Legato has never shied away from anything for Master Knives, no matter how awe-inspiring or abhorrent it is, without needing anything more than to stand by Master Knives's side and serve his needs. (An Unjust Reward, Legato & Vash have to work together and Legato hates it)

It’s something delicate. It’s something bright. It’s something unknowable and it’s something born of desperation. Legato would never ask Master Knives to defile himself for his sake and he would never deny anything Master Knives offered him. (Forbidden Fruit, millionsummers cannibalism)

Much like every fatalistic religious text promised, it finally happened: one day, an angel of justice came from on high and destroyed all who were unworthy, sparing but one from his path of righteous ruin. (Reckoning, millionsummers fallen angel au drabble)

Tagging: @dragonofeternal @clockworkspider @steinozean @ehyde @ciaran @the-wyld-october @nomette and anyone else who wants to do it; I'm not smart enough to tag enough people

[atropinenightshade]

My brutally honest review of Fall

I would rate it around 7/10 and 4 stars after thinking clearly from that awful reading hangover.

Since I would like to end on a positive note, let's start with the bad:

Negative: -the Neverland/Peter Pan storyline was just not for me. That space could have been used for a lot more than that. It belongs in a novella more than a Prequel novel tbh. I didn't care about Pan being School Master, although I did find it interesting that the previous School Masters were Pans. Honestly, the page time should have been given to Midas, my beloved, but that's a topic for another day

_Botic Lesso . Why. Why was he here. Soman could have written a short story about Lady Lesso and her past at this point. I can't believe she's from the same family as him. Botic should have died instead of Midas. I was so pissed that this character lived and the other didn't. You are King of mermaids? I don't care. Peter Boy? I don't care. Heck, Rufius, a very minor character, grabbed my interest more than Antibiotics Lasso.

-Midas' death left a bad taste in my mouth and I skip this part of the story every time I reread it. He should have stayed alive and become the greedy king of the myths when he was older. I also cannot completely forgive Rafal for doing what he did, but at least he didn't pretend to be more than he actually was. I hated how Rhian treated him too. I hated how both of them treated him, and he should get an apology in the afterlife. Both twins were in the wrong. (Yet my toxic trait is shipping Mifal but oh well.)

-no James and Rafal closure? Okay, let's say James wanted to move on. Couldn't they at least talk first? I agree they would be better as friends. But I just didn't feel like even their friendship was developed in Fall. And also, James did make fun of Kyma and I dislike the bully boy getting the girl in a rushed manner. Did he even apologize?

-The eye color thingy wasn't essential to Soman's plot twist at all. You can still replace someone and have the same eye color together? They're twins?

-The infamous plot twist. Look, I don't hate it. I think it could work in the main series even if it was a second thought. But the way it was done was so sloppy and cartoonish at times, and not very believable.

Under this, the characters of the twins were icky. Was this even Soman's writing? There was so much potential with the opposite alignment and it was thrown away for what? I could read this in a first grade book, thank you very much.

Why does Rafal still have to call himself pure good? He might have been born that way, but he obviously forfeited that "state of grace" (as a way of saying it) by his free choices. It could've added to his identity crisis if maybe he had a hard time returning to Goodness because he believes he's too far gone. And even when he does try to be good again, it's just a start. Not "pure Goodness" especially not when you used someone right before that. So I liked Rafal’s identity crisis but it just fell down in the end. I also think perhaps Rafal could break away from a fatalistic view of life. He doesn't HAVE to be pure good or evil. He can make his own choices and be his own person, with his faults and good things. GREAT lesson there, but it was tossed out.

Rhian's Evil-- okay. This had so much potential. But no, Rhian had to throw a kindergarten tantrum and kill Rafal. Rhian's character deserves better, and I'm saying this as a person who didn’t like him instantly in Rise. Rhian was reduced to nothing but BIG BAD VILLAIN LOOK AT ME MWAHAHAHA.

Rhian could have been motivated by more complex things, or have a more complex character, like someone who can NEVER see he's wrong, because he always sees himself as good. Maybe narcissistic and self obsessed but unaware, and still human. Or jealousy of Rafal and who Rafal is. Rhian had a million different personalities it was painful to read.

-The prequels should have been one large book or a spin off trilogy. The duology thing could have been part of the problem, especially with storyline pacing and rushed plot. Also, cut off the Neverland thing from the stories.

ANTICLIMAX. That ending. That "battle." Very anticlimactic, which pissed me off since I waited months only to get that.

The Good:

-no obnoxious purple prose. The writing was clear and fun, so that's a plus.

-Midas and Rufius

-some cute Rafal and Rhian moments

-The cover

-Marialena piqued my interest.

-the story itself wasn't bad, and it was still sad and emotional. I liked the messages it tried to show, and I can say it definitely isn't a story I would forget.

This is just my opinion and I'm not bashing Soman. This is my opinion, and I love it. I don't prefer it over Rise, nor do I prefer Rise over this. I like them both for different things. I also used slightly stronger language than I usually do, so that doesn't mean I talk like that 24/7 lol.

[warabola]

💜🏵

💜: top 5 favorite npcs

Oh man the absolute hardest right off the bat. There are so many good NPCs in Fallen London.

Feducci - I'm not as obsessed nowadays, but you can thank Feducci for me being here in the first place. When I first got into the game, I was enamored with Tomb Colonists on sight after one stabbed me on the road randomly-- and despite learning the reality later, Feducci was the character I needed to know everything about. I wasn't here for elections but I heard about the end of his term and it cemented my love for the game.

Cornelius - Complicated. I am so sold on any interesting tomb colonist, but despite my excitement to meet him, I somehow managed to hit a glitch during the Railway that actually got Cornelius onto my board without ever having spoken to him. I still don't know how I did it, and FBG Support doesn't either. But his responses on the board make me laugh so he stays, and I also adore a guy who's into weird stuff.

Furnace Ancona - Feels like it's self explanatory. I've helped with unionizing efforts and management, and it's not easy. That alone makes her peak character. Her story is just so good and I wish there were 100 more places I could talk to her. I want to look at her character design all day.

Jovial Contrarian - He was super popular in the fandom when I first joined so I thought I wouldn't be into him? Jokes on me, I love an argumentative person any day.

Tie between The Manager, His Amused Lordship, and The Bishop of Southwark - First is thanks to Heart's Desire, the real world tie-ins, his love story.... and just how weird he is to the player character, honestly. The other two feel obvious because they're just good? Reggie said hey we're breeding creatures here and tackled me and I haven't been normal about him since. The Brass Grail is up there as one of my favourite stories. HAL is just great.

Honourable mention to the Sigil Ridden Navigator and the Cladery Heir as my favourite Sseas characters, the Fatalistic Signalman and Clay Conductor in Sskies, and the Crimson Captain for being my Main Companion despite having so little story, I so hope he gets more story.

🏵: what accomplishment are you proudest of in the game?

Actually a very difficult question! I'm a fairly recent addition to the fandom, having only joined maybe two years ago? And I'm terrible at optimization in lieu of forgetting what I was doing and instead wandering around after the lastest story I find interesting, so I don't have many unique or impressive achievements. That said, I have finished 3 ambitions and one ending of Seeking. And I have every renown to at least 40!

Honestly, I'm more proud of making an interconnected story between my own characters and friends' characters, but that's not really in game.

[despair-to-future-arcs]

Fuck Zofia!

She doesn't and I feel that is an issue with her; she is a fatalist and often believes in fate of her role, it's a hard mindset to crap...

But it does get better, so don't worry, anyway Nagi onto the next clip.

Right, here we go - time for the week after...

*CLICK*

[08/28/17]

CHIAKI: Welcome again, Sonia - I take it you've been well?

Why yes, I have been; I'm sure you are aware that Byakuya has come back to us and soon Teruteru should return as well!

Oh wait, I mean the Ultimate Imposter... I nearly forgot that this isn't the actual Byakuya, apologies, I do hope they change their name so it isn't as confusing.

CHIAKI: It's fine, it's an understandable mistake as you met the Ultimate Imposter who was disguise as Byakuya, so I don't think your at fault for that. Now back to what we talk about last week, you mention that people assume that you would be like Zofia, correct?

Yes, I've... had my people I am going to be like my ancestors and even why I was kidnapped as well.

CHIAKI: Wait, so that's why you were kidnapped twice?

Indeed, I will admit the first time it happen when I was 10 years old but the second time happen when I was going to be coronated as the next queen.

But unlike last time, I wasn't scared and stood my ground from the kidnappers!

...

...

...

Date: October 15th, 2009

*Sonia finds herself in a dark room...*

*Sonia woke up* Wh-What...? Where am I?

???: Hmph, seems your awaken - good, morning Zofia...

Zo-Zofia?! What are you...!

Man: *pulls a knife at her neck* One word out of your mouth and your tongue comes off, got it?!

... (Looks like I was kidnapped before I was crowned queen; this is quite scary and my parents must be worried but I know I must not show any fear...)

MAN: Good, at least you kept quiet this time you better stay that way, I was order to kill you so better be prepare...

...Fine, but remember you don't scare me.

MAN: The fuck? Bitch, do you have any idea of the situation your in?!

Of course I do, after all - as the future queen, I know that if my people see me sad would surely trouble them and I know rescue will come.

MAN: Hmph, you sure seem damn arrogant to think that, you know that bravado is gonna get you killed.

No but I am certain rescue will arrive, I have faith in my family.

'I won't deny it... I was scared, frighten even of the situation I was in but I know that I must not show any fear and about a day later, they arrive...'

Date: October 16th, 2009

*CRASH!*

NATASHA: So-Sonia? Sonia where are you?!

MIRIKO: SOOOONIA, WE CAME TO RESCUE YOU!

GUARD: Your highness, will deal with this! Come out and let go of Princess Sonia!

Mother and Father, they came to save me!

MAN: Fuck, they came damnit - I thought I would have you killed by now!

Well too bad, they have and now you can't get away, your surrounded!

MOTHER! FATHER! I'M HERE AND THE MAN THAT KIDNAP ME IS HERE TOO!

MAN: *Puts a gag on Sonia* SHUT UP YOU BITCH, ONE WORD OUT OF YOUR MOUTH AND I'LL-!

*BANG!*

*The Man stop as a bullet shot by him and there stood Sonia's mother with a gun*

You fool... how dare you take my daughter and kidnap her? You have dare cross the queen, now unless you value your life - I recommend you step aside...NOW!

MAN: ...Shit, Then I'll make sure she doesn't live to see another day you bi-!

*As then Miriko rush over and slammed him on the ground*

Threaten my daughter and the your arms get broken, Natasha - you along with the others get Sonia out of here!

Right dear... *rush over and unties Sonia*

Mo-Mother, oh thank goodness you came!

*gets up and hugs her mother* I was scared and worried, I try to hold strong that you'll save me, thank you so much for coming!

It's fine Sonia, I'm just... I'm happy to see your alive...

Now let's leave while men, take care of this kidnapper and be sure to check if there's anyone else around that could pose a threat.

GUARD: Of course your highness.

... (Thank goodness, I'm safe and this happen before I became queen; I wonder if more like this will happen or if it's fated...)

'I had wonder if this kidnapping was fate, the man kept calling me Zofia; so I figure people were after me but my parents assure me that isn't the case but I doubt it...'

[crossroads-history-and-science]

Species Highlight: Ishiki

Long ago, there lived a people called the bōru. They were basically coconut people. I don't mean they were wearing coconuts, they WERE coconuts.

They were spherical, furry, and about the size of an exercise ball. They lacked eyes, a mouth, or any other features. They typically were brown in color, though they were sometimes green or yellow. Their insides composed of a semi-solid substance that they would shift around, allowing themselves to roll. When sleeping, their innards would rest into a complete fluid. They would sense the world around them and communicate through telepathic abilities.

A single crack would be deadly for a bōru, as they would leak out the moment they fell asleep. However, they saw it as a blessing as they got to be sent off by their friends and family before they went out. Upon leaking out, they'll also release a seed that could grow into a Bōru tree, and their innards can serve as a fertilizer. Because of this, their culture used to have a strong fatalistic ideology.

However, one day, a Bōru would leak out and not die. She was a conduit, and because of her abilities, she kept living as semi-solid liquid. Taking inspiration from human visitors, she would form her body into a humanoid shape during the day. She was the first ishiki, and she would call herself Sunny Cross.

Through her survival, she would discover that living as a coconut slime person wasn't just a conduit thing. Every single one of her people could do it if they knew how to. When she informed her people of this however, she was shunned and exiled from their society for defying the natural order. However, the damage was done. The knowledge was out there, and it was only a matter of time before all her kind would join her in the multiverse.

Now-a-days, the ishiki see their coconut phase as adolescence, adopting the world "Bōru" to mean "child" in their society. They would find that their new bodies do not age or damage easily, and can withstand even the harshest environments. Because of this, they are very daring explorers in the multiverse, often colonizing worlds that most species wouldn't even dare.

Their telepathic abilities have evolved upon becoming a multiversal race. They've honed their powers so every ishiki was connected telepathically at some level. This would create the greater hivemind, and a single ishiki would rise up as the mother of all ishiki. The "Mother Mind" is practically a religious figure and her thoughts became the gold standard for how an ishiki should live and think. Or at least, that's among the devout. As history would tell us time and time again, whenever someone tries to introduce only one way of living, dissenters were always to follow.

This would divide the ishiki into three groups:

First Consciousness: Ishiki that follow the Mother Mind's thoughts and feelings to the letter. They generally think of any of their kind that don't follow her doctrine a heretic.

Second Consciousness: Ishiki who respect and learn from Mother Mind's teachings, but don't hold them as a gospel. They tend to build their own moral codes instead of following the gold standard.

Anti-Consciousness: These Ishiki do the exact opposite of what the Mother Mind wants. They often become terrorists and criminals.

The First Consciousness consider the Second as the greatest threat to the ishiki. As dangerous at the Anti's are, they are still unknowingly slaves to the Mother Mind's will, while the Seconds actually introduce rebellious ways of thinking.

Ishiki's have colonized hundreds of thousands of worlds and hold a very valued position here in the Crossroads. Sunny Cross, the first ishiki, actually has served as a famous member of the Time Agency for centuries. Many books and movies were made of her exploits traveling through timelines. She however, feels little connection to her race however, still feeling the sting of rejection thousands of years later.

[tothedarkdarkseas]

!! just want to reassure you that if i ever took inspo i absolutely wouldn't lift anything directly from your writing, i feel exactly the same wrt being very personally attached to everything i create. even silly gorillaz fics are like a little piece of myself put out into the world lol... and i would be sure to credit you for inspiration and send it your way! while i really hope you find a renewed interest in gorillaz as a whole (both for selfish "immense enjoyment of your writing" reasons as well as completely understanding how it feels to become disillusioned with something you were passionate about,) my faith in the direction they're taking is... rocky at best lol. but it is what it is!

Ah, thank you! I'm sorry if that answer was presumptuous in any way, I just wasn't entirely positive the extent to which you were asking! I know some fandom writers are so... generous, or detached, or whichever flattering or unflattering way it comes across to you, and it's not unheard of for someone to just hand off stories to new writers who care more about finishing it. Honestly, observing other writers in general is such an enlightening yet isolating experience, as it assures me time and again that something is very broken inside of me, hahaha! No, but I understand that feeling entirely. It's shameful to think the things that have meant so much to me, projects which have felt incredibly personal and reflect something I can't otherwise voice are... silly gay Gorillaz fics. With hole. So just-- not things you'll ever share. (I've tried to do personal writing, er, something for more of a "literary magazine crowd" but struggled with getting my footing enough to move the ideas into words. Recently, very recently, I've been scratching out short thoughts on a specific aspect of my life... I've felt conflicted about sharing it here or not, as I think the only people who have any interest at all in my writing would be on this blog, but the subject matter is very much the opposite of toxic-masculine Studoc.)

Thank you, I really do appreciate you saying that. This is melodramatic, and the sort of fatalistic thinking I've been trying to be more mindful of, but at times my unhealthy relationship toward creating made me think of the quote about every person dying twice: for the first time when your body dies, and for the second time when someone stops saying your name. There's just always been something unbearably sad about the idea that you could love with your whole heart for 1, 5, 10, 20 years, and yet one day it just stops forever. It stops existing in anyone's mind, it stops mattering, it is one of a thousand-billion sparks from the beginning of human storytelling that died for the last time ages ago. I don't think that's a good way to think, for the record, haha. But it's nice to me to think someone out there cares if I ever write again, someone would want to share that world with me. Whether I ought to indulge it, it is a lovely thought. I'm glad we could know and care for one another in whatever capacity we were able to.

Anyway! I'm sorry, we're returning to true peak tothedarkdarkseas form here, which entails me using asks as therapy sessions. I would love to see anything you create, even if you ended up moving on outside of Gorillaz! I am so grateful for you reaching out, it really does this rickety old heart good. Sadly I do share your reservations about where we'll go from here, but I think some time away from the burning core of it has done me some favors in... numbing me a bit to the disappointment, haha. (Nice way to think of something, right?) As you said, it is what it is! C'est la vie!

[autodialog]

Looking forward to brighter days

I'm not ready to talk to you yet.

I know. I'm still patient. You're processing a lot.

I've tested positive for COVID.

I know.

For EIGHT DAYS IN A ROW.

I can see why you've been hesitant to talk to me.

EIGHT FUCKING DAYS

Now, be fair, you only tested on Saturday, Tuesday, and Saturday. You may be in a COVID loop with your wife.

That doesn't make things better. I'm never leaving this house again, am I?

There you go being a fatalist. You will, one day, leave the house again.

Really?

Maybe feet first on a stretcher.

Aren't you a barrel of laughs today.

Okay, so sarcasm isn't going to get through to you. You realize that everything is temporary, right? Nothing lasts forever.

I won't live long enough to prove that.

Nobody will, but we have it on good authority that entropy will win in the end. We can't stop it. You won't be stuck in the house forever. You know that. Is it reasonable that you're now permanently sick? Have you ever recovered from diseases?

You know I have, but not this one.

You lasted three years before you got hit. It was stupid trusting to go out unmasked after the mandate lifted. Yet you did it. You made a mistake and this is the natural consequence of it.

Yeah, that makes me feel better about this whole mess.

What it means is that you are practicing voluntary discomfort.

This is rather involuntary.

It doesn't have to be.

What?

Think about it. One of things you've cooked up is an experiment to see how well you could survive in a single room for 30 days. A bed, a computer, a bathroom, a guitar, and a place to exercise.

And books.

Yeah, yeah, books. You can't live without your library. I know. You've had this idea in your head for a long time and you solved a lot of problems, like where your meals would come from.

Only that meals would be delivered. I never really thought about laundry, either.

There are clothes that can wash in a shower. No worries there. You came up with this idea as some sort of performance art thing. You've let it play in your head multiple times. I've watched it over and over again. Well, now you're living it. Only you aren't alone. You have a wife.

She's a little frustrated, too.

As long as she's not frustrating. And even then what are you doing to make her life easier? Are you actually folding the laundry you're doing or just leaving it in the dryer? Are you cooking anything or are you letting her do all the cooking again? Are you cleaning? You are expecting a visit from family and your house is a mess. Are you ready for them to show up and get the tour?

No. I've cooked a few meals, but no, I'm not.

So you have a place to improve. You can't go out to eat, so the logical necessity is dishes will need to be done more often. In fact I think you loaded the dishwasher but didn't actually start it.

I did not.

Another place for you to improve.

What are you trying to pull here?

I'm trying to kick you in the metaphorical ass because you're being a whiny bitch and maybe some tough love is what it will take to get you to behave like a human being. You can still do almost everything you want to do. You can still play guitar. You can still write. You can still read. You can even play that stupid Minceraft game.

Minecraft.

I know what I said. You can probably even take a walk outside if you don't get near people. That would require you to wear socks, though. How are feet doing? Still swelling?

You know it.

Because you're wallowing in this misery and I'm sick of it. Get out of here and go do what you need to do. I'm going to take a bath.

You're a mental construct, a part of my head.

Or are you a part of my head? The inner child I have to shepherd to adulthood?

Hey now....

See, you're getting pissed off at being called a child. You were always angry over that, even when you were a kid.

So, I should stop being a shit about things and do what I can.

Exactly. COVID is slowing you down and giving you coughing fits and the sniffles but you've got it relatively easy. You've lost your upper range. So what? It will come back or you'll learn to sing as a proper bass.

I've got things to do.

I know you do.

[attack-on-teen-titans]

*presses fingers to lips and exhales deeply*

I cannot stop thinking about this in the context of Gaza but that’s a whole other topic.

I didn’t expect Onyankopon to survive. I didn’t expect Jean, Conny, and Gabi to go out like that. And I was not prepared for Stockholm Syndrome to be the driving force of a whole race…..

How and why would Ymir fall in love with the man who burned her home, murdered her parents, enslaved her, and then hunted her as game in a sick chance at freedom? If it weren’t for him doing any of that, she never would’ve found that tree and the parasite living beneath it. Even after gaining this power, she stays and I cannot fathom it.

I always said that if Levi ever died, I’d quit the show cold. My boy kicking ass literally in stitches and finally carrying out Erwin’s last mission with a FRACTION of his full skill.

I had mixed feelings about Pieck in the beginning of season 4 but she definitely grew on me, so much so that I fully screamed when she started somersaulting through the air transformation after transformation.

FALCO!!!! I’m still speechless. By far the best Jaw ever! And the reveal?!

Zeke…the thing about his euthanasiation plan is that even after all the Eldians naturally died out…everyone else would just find something else to fight about, as evidenced by the end credits with Eren’s headstone. Even once the PoT disappeared, the Marlyeans STILL threatened the Eldians. Humans are garbage.

Eren…………… fucking dumbass. 🙄 All bark and no bite until he goes kinda crazy, y’know, from all the power. Then acts a pussy to his friends just so they doubt themselves before they harden their resolve? Armin should’ve knocked him out fully. Then whines about wanting Mikasa to mourn him for ten years after he dies?!? Fuck outta here you wimp. The only good thing he did was spare Historia.

Armin….i don’t think there was ever a time I disliked him. He is the MC for me. That he could turn Zeke, a fatalist, into a hopeful is absolute genius. Him trusting himself to think through the paralysis of his body and then waking up immediately to fire a thunder spear at the Titan that captured him. Calling on ancestors for help because even in their perpetual state, they don’t support genocide. The visual and knowledge that people who started as bitter enemies are now united on the same side was incredibly powerful.

Mikasa. Oh Mikasa. The one always up Eren’s ass. Who never had another thought if it wasn’t attached to Eren. Who did nothing but take the fall for his dumbass decisions. Couldn’t stand her for the first two seasons. That she was the one was the best decision. It’s a juicy, rip your heart out moment. I just really REALLY wish she kissed him BEFORE cutting off his head. Ugh. 🤢 Like you make us wait the ENTIRE SERIES for this kiss, and it’s necropheliac.

I’m sad there won’t be more but happy at the resolution - that there is no resolution. Even if you take away the current object of conflict, there will always be another. I’d definitely be into more adventure in this universe but I’m glad to let everyone rest for a while. I’m sure I’ll have more/other thoughts as the days pass, as I watch the ending again, and as I watch the whole series from start to finish. Owning the manga has been on my list for some time and maybe next year will be the time.

Oh, I almost forgot: kick ass soundtrack! I’ve gotta do more research into the music but EPIC sounds for epic conflict!

This is it.

The Attack On Titan series finale.

*deep breath*

Let’s go.

[gardendroid]

me: oh i can wait til friday to take down that donations post, it’ll take a while peeps: *fill it up & more in like one day*  me: AIGHT

[bitchesgetriches]

At my old school, they served lunch at one long table, and every grade had assigned seats. Even if no one liked you, you still sat with everyone.

But at my new school, there were dozens of small round tables. Students informally pulled chairs up wherever they pleased. Each table seemed to be dominated by a different clique. They all knew exactly where to find their people.

As I stood frozen in the doorway, I felt a fatalistic sureness: I’d go through the lunch line alone and exit it alone. Bullying trained me to fear the punishment that came from social presumption; I couldn’t possibly ask to sit at someone’s table.

I got into line pinching back tears, feeling like I was marching toward doom.

Then I felt someone tap their lunch tray against my back. Assuming it was an accidental jostle, I kept my eyes forward. But then it happened again. Tap tap.

I turned to see… how do I describe her?

Do you remember The Craft? Yeah—like that. Big The Craft energy. A thirteen-year-old girl who seemed, to my eyes, impossibly mature. Black lipstick. Dangling pentagram earrings. Long, long hair dyed deep scarlet. Impossibly tall, at least seven feet. A pale, beautiful face wearing an expression that terrified me: cold, indifferent teenaged edgelord coolness.

I honestly have no idea if that’s actually what this girl looked like, or if my eyes were just so unaccustomed to seeing anyone like her. Was her lipstick really black? Maybe it just seemed that way because it was my first encounter with a fashion-forward 90s matte brown lip. Obviously she couldn’t have actually been seven feet tall. She was just the sort of person who seemed like she should be.

“Do you have any friends that go here? Do you have someone to sit with?”

My heart started to pound. “Not really, no.”

“Mm.” She nodded, looking not at me but into a middle distance that cool people can gaze into upon command. “Well, you can come and sit with me if you want.”

So I followed her like a puppy. I thought we’d make for an empty table… but she beelined for a crowded one at the back. As we approached, everyone at the table turned and erupted with a delighted shout. “ELIZA!” A dozen people jumped up to hug her, high-five her, ask how her summer was. I hung back, overwhelmed, until Eliza pulled me forward.

“Guys, this is Lauren. She’s new, so be nice to her.”

A few days later, a girl named Erin approached me.

She was a nice, polite midwestern girl, and she ran with a modestly popular crowd. After some chit-chat, she lowered her voice. “Are you hanging out with Eliza?”

I brightened. “Yes! She’s soooo nice.”

Erin sighed and shook her head. “Be really careful around her. I don’t hang out with her personally, but I’ve heard all sorts of things.”

She leaned back and raised her voice again. “You can come and sit at my table today,” she said with a smile. There was no small amount of pity in her eyes. “I’ll introduce you to the right kind of people.”

I know what Erin meant when she said she could introduce me to “the right kind of people.” White midwestern Christians, straightlaced and well-behaved, attempting to pass for upper-class by way of Abercrombie shirts. The kind of people I had always tried to impress, hoping that a little bit of their acceptedness would rub off on me.

Eliza, on the other hand, was everything I was warned (explicitly and implicitly) I shouldn’t want in a friend. Everything about her loudly announced her individuality and disinterest in conformity. She was shamelessly, alarmingly different from everybody else.

But when I was at my most vulnerable, that first day in the lunch line, “the right kind” of students had all looked right through me. Not necessarily in a mean way—they were just too busy with their own lives to stop and introduce themselves to a stranger. No one had any way of knowing that the quiet girl standing in the lunch line was locked in a silent crisis, feeling like she was losing both her hope and her sense of self.

Eliza was the only one who looked at me instead of through me. Unlike Erin, she’d offered me empathy and extended her friendship easily, without conditions or prompting. It was a small, capricious act of kindness, but it forever changed my life for the better. She showed me with perfect clarity that there is no correlation between propriety and a true act of kindness. It was the permission I needed to stop stuffing myself inside the cage of other people’s expectations.

It also made me aware of the ways in which I judged people. I was an uptight asshole, by nurture if not nature. I spent the rest of that year learning to unclench myself.

Here’s what I hope you, dear readers, will take away from my story about a tiny act of kindness.

Changing someone’s life is a tall order. People are most ready to change when they’re at their most vulnerable. But people at their most vulnerable don’t usually announce “HELLO. I AM EXTREMELY VULNERABLE. HOW ‘BOUT YOU?” The right act of kindness, or cruelty, or indifference in one of these moments can cause an unpredictable, life-altering cascade of events.

You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be yourself.

You don’t have to be kind and brave and righteous all the time. Do an act of kindness when you have the inclination, opportunity, and energy for it. You don’t have to be happy to spread happiness, or feel brave to act with bravery. Sharing your power may feel meaningless when you’re the second-least powerful person in the room—but it matters so much to the person you share it with, the one and only person who has even less. Be generous, but don’t give yourself away. You don’t have to. When the moment is right, change will come with the tiniest of nudges.

You may never know what your actions mean to others. Like me, it may take years of introspection for the recipient to realize the momentousness of a fateful moment. It’s not unrealistic to think that you may have been somebody’s Eliza a hundred times over, completely changing their life for the better after some brief and inconsequential interaction. You may never know about it.

Eliza’s tiny act of kindness helped me directly. But it also helped so many more people indirectly. And I kinda hope that in the end, the person Eliza helped the most… was Eliza.

Readers, tell me about your Elizas. Has a chance encounter ever changed the course of your life for the better?

- A Simple Yet Life-changing Act of Kindness: Be Somebody’s Eliza

[mirobami]

Hey! I really like your stuff! Could you do a Kirari fic with a reader who in kakegurui style gets off on the unknown. Like she’ll throw a game to become a house pet because she’s bored and knows she can pull herself out with her own money if she has to. Maybe she even lets her girlfriend use her in a game, putting her life and relationship on the line because at the end of the day trusts Kirari with using her in a gamble

↳ the fated temptress - k. momobami

♥ GENRE: undecided.

♥ SYNOPSIS: in request!

♥ NOTE: sure sure! i actually REALLY liked doing this omg i hope i did it justice!

Fate was a questionable object, yet most people believed in it, saying that it was fate that led them to all their choices and what they did. The fatalists specifically believed in that credence, certain that there was a road paved for them already. According to them, no one could stray from the path.

Kirari was a fatalist. She believed that everything that happened at her school was because it was planned beforehand. That is, until she met Y/N. Y/N, who was consistently going against the path that Kirari made for everyone. She was the one sacrificing herself but not for good intentions. She sacrificed herself because she wanted to feel the thrill of having her life being in danger. She was like Midari in that sense, but unlike her, she found pain to be unnecessary. The risk was enough.

The first time that Kirari had actually met her in person and seen what she was like was when Y/N was in a gamble against a housepet. Y/N had had the housepet beg to go against her. Kirari distinctly remembered hearing all of this from Runa. She could remember the feeling of seeing this housepet want to go against the "wallflower" of the school. This was all before Kirari knew who Y/N really was.

During the gamble, Kirari saw how Y/N got bored from gambling with her opponent easily. She won faster than she thought and had no pity for the housepet. All she had said was, "Man, and here I thought you would give me some sort of thrill. How boring. Don't ever speak to me again."

Kirari could swear that that was the moment she fell for Y/N. She didn't know it then but she would in the future. As she tracked Y/N's games, she saw more and more about her. By psychoanalyzing her, Kirari could see who Y/N truly was. She couldn't be called a compulsive gambler. She didn't gamble for the money. It seemed like she had plenty of money to get herself out of tough situations. No, she didn't gamble for value. She gambled for the thrill. She gambled to tempt fate.

"The fated temptress..." Kirari mumbled to herself as she graze her blue lips with her nail. A slow smile appeared across her face. "The things she could do to this school..."

Over time, Kirari fabricated a plan that would get Y/N and her together, making them the most dangerous couple in school. The president, with her slightly sadistic tendencies and Y/N, tempting fate consistently. It got to the point where they were inseparable, thus giving others the challenge to take one away from the other. But they not only were inseparable, no one had ever beaten them. The risks made others shrink back, whereas they welcomed it.

"The games are so dull these days, Kirari." Y/N groaned as she sat sideways on her armchair, her legs tossed over an armrest. She was staring at the ceiling, trying to think of something.

Kirari was sitting at her desk and she looked up at her lover with a smile. "Did you not just play a game to purposefully risk your life as a housepet?"

"I know you would've given me a good Life Plan, but that's not the point. The point is that I want a good game that's going to fill me of adrenaline."

Opening a notebook, Kirari flipped to a red-bookmarked page. Then she glanced over at Y/N with a smile that said everything. "I have a plan."

Kirari knew someone else who had a crush on you and consistently did their best to try and take you away. This person constantly sent her invitations to gamble with them, but she always threw the invitations in the trash. This time, though, would be different. She'd write something down so that the person would arrive in the gambling den of her preference.

On the day of, the white haired president and her lover stood in front of the door. Y/N raised an eyebrow. "This is it? What's going on?"

"You said you were bored, my love. I can't have you being bored. I made a game that will definitely leave you breathless."

Walking in, the person was unrecognizable with a full faced mask, similar to the vice president's. However, Y/N knew that it was not her. This was someone else completely. "Hm? Who are you?"

"I will not discuss that with you now. You may call me Q in the meantime." The voice seemed mechanical, but the person was too fluid with their movements as they showed Kirari the table set up for them. It was a simple table, lit up by a single overhead light, creating an eerie atmosphere.

Kirari grabbed both of Y/N's hands. "Are you willing to do whatever with this game?"

Y/N's eyes shone as she kissed Kirari's knuckles. "Anything for you. I trust you and know you'll make me have a good time."

Stepping forward, Kirari took a seat across Q. She placed her hands delicately under her chin. "Tell me, Q, what is the purpose of you sending me multiple invitations to gamble with you? Surely, you have a good game prepared for me."

Q laughed, an unnatural sound that could have chilled Y/N's bones if it wasn't for her being more excited about the stakes in this game. Q responded, "We shall be playing Guillotine. I will explain the rules after we put forward our bets. It will be a five round game and our bets shall be large enough now to best each other at the end of this."

"To clarify, we make our bets now and then you'll tell me the rules?"

"Precisely. I trust that you won't let down from this game? I know you are not a coward, President."

Kirari barely spared a glance towards Y/N, acknowledging that she was impatient to see why she was here and what the stakes were. "I am not."

"Good. Here's the twist of the bets: we choose what will ruin the other. In other words, we are choosing the others' bets. Your bet?"

"Your life, of course."

"As expected. I want Y/N. I want to have her for myself without you interrupting any moments of ours."

Y/N clapped her hands together, her smile genuine for the first time since coming here. "You want to ruin our lives and relationship? Oh, what fun! Kirari, say yes, please say yes. I trust you more than anyone but the adrenaline of losing each other...this is more than fate! This is what was set out for us in the first place!"

Kirari found herself nodding. The game started with that movement. With every round came a new pulse of anticipation. Kirari won the first round and Q won the second round. It happened once again and each time that Q won, Y/N hummed in surprise and excitement. Kirari wouldn't let it be shown on her face or in her gameplay, but she refused to let this nobody try to take the love of her life away. She did all of this for Y/N's happiness and she wouldn't be the one to lose her.

It was funny though. This game of Guillotine was brand new and she had never heard of it. There was something off about it, however. Her piercing blue eyes slightly squinted at Q, as if trying to decipher the meaning of the game with a stare at her opponent. She wouldn't do anything just yet. She needed to know more than she needed to win. Maybe that was why she and Y/N were a perfect match. Y/N wanted to risk herself and Kirari would risk everything to know about something.

"Tell me this, Q, how long have you been wanting to play this game?" Kirari tapped her fingers on the table. "I can see that you have been impatient about finally playing this and saving it for someone special. It's almost as if..." Her eyes slightly widened. She understood now, it was so obvious.

Love had a funny way of getting in the way of destiny. Some people could argue that love was destiny whereas others would say that you create love with destiny. Kirari now knew that Q was specifically trying not to lose because they thought that trying not to lose meant winning. Instead of trying to win, it was the opposite. They were so focused on Y/N that they accidentally manipulated themselves at the end of the day. Y/N was supposed to be their motivation. She was their downfall. This was it. Kirari could win.

"Why should that matter to you?"

"Because this is an impressive game. How long have you been trying to get Y/N to fall for you?"

Q stayed quiet. "That has nothing to do with you."

"Tell me. Is it because of how compulsive she is? Is it because she's easily made everyone lose? Do you crave losing to her?"

"I said it has nothing to do with you."

"I can see your pattern." Kirari laughed softly. "You were deliberately trying to lose to me so that you could have the spotlight on you if you won this round. Love has quite a way of messing with people's minds. You were too obsessed with Y/N to realize something: there is a reason why we are untouchable."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "Come on, Kirari, I want to see who lost and who won!"

"Patience, my love. Oh?" Kirari pressed a hand to her lips. "It makes you jealous how I treat her, right? That's why you want to steal her from me so badly. It will hurt her and me, most especially me. You want me to hurt while you simultaneously show that you could treat her better."

"Stop it. Show what you have." Q demanded.

"I still have the love of my life." She showed her cards to Q with a grin. "Y/N trusts me. I am never going to let her down."

Y/N went over to hug Kirari tightly. "You won. Do you have a Life Plan with you?"

"Mm, I'll do that later. Let's go to the one place you wanted to go to. Oh, and Q?" She stood up and looked at Q with the deadliest eyes she had ever used on someone. "Do not ever try to steal her again. You may gamble with her, as long as you make her time worth it. I would like my lover to enjoy every single second of every day."

They left and Y/N let out a sigh of relief as they walked to the restaurant she wanted to go to. She was holding Kirari's hand tightly. "I think that was the best rush of adrenaline I've felt in a long time. I will admit, I was on the edge of my seat at the end. Of course, I trust you. I knew you'd never let me go."

Kirari turned her head slightly to look at her from the corner of her eye. "Oh? Was the fated temptress scared?"

"Of course not!"

"You can tell me. I will only be slightly offended."

"Kirari!"

They were teasing each other lightly, but the grip on each other's hands said everything. The gamble scared both of them more than they let on but now that Kirari had won, they held each other in higher esteem than they had before. Y/N was a magnet to danger and Kirari was attracted to everything she had to offer. They were untouchable and they would continue to be as long as they had each other.

[collabwithmyself]

Heyo!! So here's the thing: I love your oc content, their designs, everything — BUT I am shit at memory and every time I see them I just can't remember exactly who is who... would you be willing to do like a quick (or not! I genuinely love textwalls of this stuff) rundown of your ocs? And if you just don't feel like doing that, you can just talk about an oc of your choice or tell me about your day!! Lotsa love and stuff :)

OKAY I WILL. TRY.

Devil's Advocate

Seth Wingstrom: Tall devil-looking guy. Defense attorney. Nervous and high strung. Eldest daughter syndrome. Trying to not be condescending. Being gaslit by his twin brother.

Raphael Wingstrom: Tiny angel-looking guy. Prosecutor. Unbothered and holier-than-thou. Abusive.

Verity: Lady in the cloak with her hair over her LEFT eye. Paralegal. Observant and fun-loving. Has amnesia. Knows exactly what Raph is doing and hates it.

Pandora Spinelli: Lady in the bow with her hair over her RIGHT eye. Prosecutor. Tired and wants something new after losing faith in the system. The past version of Verity, before she lost her memory.

Friday Adett: Lady with the square glasses and the fluffy hoodie. Wage slave/paralegal. Fatalistic but terrified of disappointing people. The straightman to Seth and Verity's outlandish BS.

Kirstynne Vainglory: Girl in the flower crown. Rich and airheaded. Recovering fujoshi.

Clover Fielding: Man with the goggles and the clover-shaped hairbun. Married to Paetra and helping Verity get back on her feet. Forensic scientist. Loves to experiment but is terrified of death.

Paetra Ironmonger: Lady with the fedora and trenchcoat (affectionate). Married to Clover and helping Verity get back on her feet. Private investigator. Tends to snoop instead of confronting people head on.

Work in Progress

Seraphina Bright: Lady with the star key necklace and the tied shirt. Bubbly and friendly. Furry artist. Determined to fix her childhood friends after meeting them again.

Ven ver Captionem: Person with the spiky ponytail and the bandaged arm. Blunt and avoidant. Video game livestreamer that despises their audience. Murdered their abusive brother and is really torn up about it.

Joshua O'Reilly: Guy with the fedora and trenchcoat (derogatory). Snooty and cowardly. Redditor. Absolute chode that's slowly realizing his actions have consequences.

Cadell Lockhart: Living cartoon with a jester hat. Tries to play the part of a silly sidekick, but has way more going on. Wants the trio to forget their trauma and stay in the cartoon world they accidentally made. Actually Arcadia Bright, Sera's older sibling.

Giving Up the Ghost

Hitoshi Hidaka: Guy in the bandanna and suspenders. Mailman. Hates talking about his problems, constantly laughing at himself. Could be a better dad to his kid, but could also be a lot worse.

Akiko Sasaki: Teen in the overalls and high ponytail. Wants to be a gardener. Sees ghosts. A grump, but loves to instigate trouble for fun and profit. Scared of their dad and trying to hide it.

Aoi Sasaki: Lady with the high bun and sharp jaw. Dead for the duration of the story. Hito's ex and Akiko's mom. Abusive, but Akiko doesn't know it. Trying to turn Hito and Akiko against each other.

Jackson McIntosh: Lady with the safety pin earring and apple patterned blouse. Stern, but can let loose if she wants to. Wants to be a mother. Struggling to hold down a job. Briefly hooks up with Hito.

Ko Uchiyama: Boy with the patched cap and scarf. Homeless kid that's staying off and on with Jackie. Wants to be a magician. Verbose and polite. Ran away from home after believing himself unloved.

Ayaka Uchiyama: Girl with the apron and the paint in her hair. Living alone with her mother. Has never been outside. Nervous but eager. Loves stories, and is being taught to paint. Doesn't realize the stories she comes up with parallel real life. Thinks her brother Ko is dead.

Misc

The Artisan: The god of this entire realm. Heartbroken over its own creations. Got shattered during a moment of weakness. Most of its power was absorbed by Anon, but three pieces of its storytelling ability struck three different characters - narration for Ayaka, setting and tone for Cadell, character development for Verity.

Anon: The concept of the magic anon, personified. Used to be an ordinary person, but tried to take advantage of The Artisan and accidentally pushed it to the brink instead. Xe now holds godlike power and uses it to screw with The Artisan's creations however xe pleases.

There's secondary characters, and ones that don't have real stories, but those are the main ones to know about!