#Denial in me is so strong

[dailykarin]

meow

day 13 karin: and i was beginning to think you were clever, miss sauer

[dykedvonte]

I hate the stretch lines in the front of Curly's uniform because that means the devs rushed to make a model in like a month or so and thought "They gotta at least know he has huge knockers, gotta know he's got back pain." Cause like what is the thematic importance of his tits having overhang?

What responsibility is that representing? Breast reduction? It shows an inherent greed in his character due to the excess and heshouldletmeholdone and that he clearly is blinded cause if he tries to look down his damn ladder all he's seeing is his own cleavage.

[deiaiko]

#19.3 Unravel

It had been some time since Agni felt this nervous. Not even talking with Jinsung Ha recently had made him feel like this. He fiddled with the mask on his hand as he waited for Grace to come back. He had thought hard on how to deliver the news, but he knew that no matter how he phrased it, Grace would be upset. Velt nuzzled under his palm and Agni gave her a few pats, before deciding that she would be better inside her bowl in his lighthouse, just in case the shinsu acted up around Grace after he received the news.

Grace came back wearing the comfiest shirt and shorts Agni knew Grace liked to wear on lazy days. He joined him on the floor, and they ate dinner together. Agni always finished last, so while waiting for him to finish his meal, Grace told him about his day with Bam. Grace was intrigued by how much his way of thinking had changed, and how glad he was to be able to be by Bam's side when he was having a bad day. It reminded Agni of the hidden floor, when Grace faced his sworn enemy.

They left the used bowls on the coffee table and went to brush their teeth. Afterwards, they turned off the light and went upstairs to sit on their bed. Grace's curious gaze never left him, and Agni curled his feet nervously.

Grace was the one who broke the silence. "So…what is it?"

Agni's breath hitched. This was the part he dreaded most. "I talked with the crocodile earlier. Did you know that he could manipulate stone already?"

"Huh." Grace needed a few seconds to let the information sink in. "Didn't Rak learn it on the Hell train? How does he know it?"

"Turns out our crocodile also traveled back to the past like us. He found the young crocodile and taught him."

"What?!" Grace gasped, wide eyed. "That means our Rak is–!!"

"He's dead." Agni quickly snuffed out that hope. They had been in delusion for long enough; it was time that they faced the bitter truth. "He suffered a fatal injury from the explosion. He couldn't have lasted long without proper help." Agni omitted the actual cause for Rak's death, but still kept his words true. "I'm sorry."

"…Oh." Grace looked lost, just like Agni was. His lips parted a little, but they closed before any sound escaped.

Agni gently squeezed Grace's hand, encouraging and comforting as he let the silence stretch on, giving Grace some time to process the information.

"Agni…" Grace whispered, "do you think Hatz and Isu…?"

Agni bit his lip and avoided his gaze, as the nightmare of that day replayed in his mind. He witnessed Hatz get his arm ripped off when trying to protect him. He could still recall the clang of a sword hitting the floor, and Hatz's suppressed scream that gnawed deep at his guilt. He witnessed Isu get beheaded after being taken hostage, the memory of warm blood painting them both still vivid like it happened yesterday. 

Agni refused to acknowledge their possible deaths, because it felt like a nightmare that one day he could hopefully wake up from. He avoided the topic when Grace brought it up, so he wouldn't have to say it aloud and make it real. He had been so hard on himself, because he couldn't get rid of the feeling that he had failed Grace and everyone else involved.

Agni knew this had to change if he wanted to live better, now that they had gotten a second chance. So he swallowed down the lump in his throat that had built up over the years and asked mostly to himself; "What are the odds of their survival?"

"There's always a chance–"

"Grace." Agni looked him straight in the eye. "They were already severely injured before the explosion hit."

Grace fell silent and went still.

Agni felt a pang of guilt upon witnessing Grace's reaction. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap." Agni fiddled with his hands. He realized that he didn't know how much Grace knew of what happened. "My scar…do you know how I got it?"

"I…was told it was from the family heads' battle." Grace looked thoughtful. Agni knew he was trying to be careful with his words. "A stray attack?"

"It could have been worse." The memory of the scorching heat on his skin felt like it had only happened yesterday. He passed out right when he was about to heal Isu, and only found out later that he also lost sweetfish at that time. The days he spent recovering from the burn, to withstand the excruciating pain every second he was conscious, and finally coming to terms that it'd be a permanent scar, was one of the turning points that had changed him forever. Were Grace not there to care for him, he might have ended up destroying himself even more.

Agni hadn't realized he had his left hand clawing on his cheek until Grace pried his hand off and frowned, "You're doing it again."

"Maybe I should wear the mask…" Agni muttered to himself. After all, Grace gave it to him less so he could hide the scar but more to prevent him from unconsciously hurting himself. The only time he could safely take it off was when Grace was around.

Agni bit his lip nervously when Grace didn't reply. He no longer had the courage to look Grace in the eye that spoke so much concern, so he leaned close and rested his head on Grace's chest. "Rak, Isu, Hatz and Hwaryun were trying to get me out of that damned place. But we were caught while escaping, and…it was a bloodbath. I was…too occupied to react to the incoming heat. Rak shielded us from the explosion. And when I woke up…"

"They weren’t with you," Grace finished it for him after Agni trailed off a moment too long.

Agni nodded dazedly, "I've been telling myself that they're still alive, after a blow that could kill rankers. But…who am I kidding? I was lucky enough to survive with just this little–" Agni vaguely pointed to himself– "inconvenience."

Agni felt a hand gripping his arm, and he pulled away to see Grace looking at him with a pained expression. His eyes were glossy and his lips were pulled into a thin line. Trusting his instinct, Agni reached out to gently trace and cup Grace's cheek with his free hand.

"I'm sorry," Agni muttered. "I'm sorry, for not telling you sooner."

Agni silently witnessed tears that streamed down on his love's face. It was a bitter sight that Agni wished he'd never have to see again, that he had tried to avoid for so long by not telling him. He pulled Grace in and held him close to his chest, as if Agni was trying to gather his own crumbled heart back together.

Grace mumbled their late best friends' names as he held onto him tighter, shaking from each breath he took between sniffles.

Agni felt his own eyes sting with unshed tears. He remembered the years he spent climbing the tower together with his old team. Despite their banter being his source of headaches, Agni knew he too had come to acknowledge them as his cherished friends. Only when they were gone did Agni realize how much he'd miss having them around. Seeing the younger them didn't exactly close the gaping hole in his heart, but at least the emptiness was more filled.

Agni squeezed Grace tighter. "We have their younger selves with us now. We will protect them better this time."

Grace only nodded and sank further into his embrace. And Agni planted kisses on his hair, relishing the thought that after everything he had gone through, Grace was still a constant in his life. As long as he had him, everything would be okay.

When Grace started shaking again, Agni caressed his hair and hummed a comfort song they had known by heart. Still, it didn't make falling asleep any easier for Agni, especially not after admitting that his nightmare was very much real. However, as he had been through grief…this, too, would pass.

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[s0fter-sin]

sometimes i think about how wild a mw2 movie would be if they just dropped soapghost right in the middle with no warning or marketing. like imagine it being beat for beat the exact same, it’s your typical military action movie, promoted as just another military action movie then after they get to the safe house, ghost has to patch up soap and he’s still out of it, overwhelmed by the betrayal and everything he’s seen and ghost needs to ground him and keep him in the present, to remind him that he’s alive and safe so he kisses him and they have sex. the tantrums and the rants and the “ReAl sOLdiErS aRen’t liKe ThAt”, god i can taste it and it’s delicious

[goldkirk]

Well!

Insurance just denied the procedure for tomorrow morning. Guess I’ll go fuck myself!

[jumpingtoconclusions]

i remember when s5 came out and everyone was talking about buff merlin and i thought i was so quirky and different for not liking him. i was like i just don’t like him all manly, he used to be so pretty before when he was more similar to morgana im so different hahaha NO YOU DELUSIONAL DUMB FUCK YOU JUST LIKE WOMEN

[aparticularbandit]

I think the biggest character note I use for Junko/Ryoko as a whole is her response to Mukuro telling her to kill the Madarai.

Because - despite imagining it very clearly, and despite Yasuke being at risk - Ryoko can't do it. She can't kill them. She doesn't care about hope or despair, but she can't kill the Madarai - who have been trying to kill/capture her from their first meeting - even if it means being able to reunite with Yasuke. She can't. She refuses.

And it's clear from Mukuro's reaction that Ryoko was expected to kill them. Mukuro is confused. Puzzled. This is not the way this scenario is supposed to go. Ryoko is supposed to kill the Madarai so that her hope (seeing Yasuke again) would overcome her despair (not seeing Yasuke again, being forced into this horrible choice).

But Ryoko...doesn't.

It is the thing that Junko scripted out and told Mukuro would happen and then it doesn't. Which means that Junko incorrectly predicted herself.

Mukuro sends Ryoko on anyway because Junko would be disappointed if the scenario ended like that - without the climax - but the scene still stands.

Junko says later that she predicted everything perfectly, but she didn't.

Junko thought Ryoko - she, herself - would murder to get to Yasuke.

But she didn't.

And that's the core of a lot of my characterization of Junko and Ryoko.

[quietwingsinthesky]

haunting the narrative for real. we don’t even know she exists until s11 (because it’s a poorly planned show) but everything has been about this injustice that all of creation is built on top of. it is about her!!!

[demonnstein]

Mourning the life I wanted for myself again 😔✌️

[randomwriteronline]

"Pohatu."

The voice echoed like a knife hissing as it scratches marble. The prisoner (the only one, completely isolated from the rest of the city), huddled in a nook, shivered a little further away into the corner he'd tucked himself into and held onto himself a little tighter.

He did not respond to his own name.

Deliberate steps moved closer: clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. Their rhythm was slow, cold; they accompanied a scrutinizing stare.

They stopped before the cell.

The air felt freezing.

"Pohatu."

The prisoner did not answer.

"You are not stupid. That I know."

The chilling voice was soft. It spoke lowly, taking the time to properly enunciate each and every word perfectly.

"I am certain you know what I am here for."

Once more, only silence replied.

"I would advise you do not make this harder than it already is."

He watched as the prisoner's knuckles shook while tightening around his own trembling shoulders, as though trying to hide his weakness.

"Collaborate. For your own sake."

A sob tore through the room.

Another.

Another.

Another.

"Please," the prisoner finally babbled, voice hoarse from disuse.

Broken.

It was his turn to be faced with the silent treatment. Not a word reached him as he cried inconsolably, naked face pressed against his arms, for what seemed like hours.

His brother stared on, unmoving, expressionless, until the wailing died down and the body slumped on itself from the release of pent up emotions.

"I take it you have returned to your senses."

A crooked whine.

"I do not believe I understood that."

A confused mumbling.

"Speak clearly."

"Yes!" his brother sobbed.

His orange eyes looked into blue ones pleadingly, begging for help, for forgiveness. He watched them furrow, watched clouds of condensation pour from the sides of the white mask.

"You are guilty of a terrible crime."

"Yes."

"You are aware of your misconduct."

"Yes."

"You are aware that I cannot call you brother."

A pained wince: "Yes."

Another long moment of quiet passed.

The prisoner had shifted his gaze onto the floor.

The Toa watched him, fists clenched as tight as he could.

"Are you sure your forgiveness is deserved?"

The body shook from another hysterical sob, as though it had just been struck by a lash: he inhaled sharply a few times, but could not bring himself to speak.

"Answer me."

There was another attempt. Again, nothing came of it.

"Pohatu."

"Please..."

He stared.

He stared at the pitiful thing so powerless and miserable, completely alone, curled on itself on the floor as it shuddered.

"Please..."

He stared at the pitiful thing speaking in a voice that crumbled upon itself like gravel rolling uselessly down the side of a mountain.

"Please, I... Please..."

For a long stretch of time, nothing happened.

Then the door to the cell unlocked.

Pohatu dared to look up: Kopaka stood over him, unflinching, unreadable, hands balled up in fists hard enough to crush boulders between his fingers, looking down with his glimmering blue eyes as the air around him crackled with frost.

He could have so easily torn him apart right now.

Only the two of them, here, in the dark, far away from any other form of life who could have heard any commotion or cared enough to investigate.

Nobody would have even known. Not until it was too late.

Kopaka kneeled before the former Toa and pulled him into a tight embrace, one hand cradling his nape while the other pressed hard on his back to squeeze him closer to himself.

He allowed himself a sigh in relief only when he felt the other's arms wrap around him, his face against the crook of his neck.

Pohatu held him by the waist tight.

"I missed you," he sobbed.

I missed you too, Kopaka could not say despite how desperately he needed to.

He tightened his grip.

Then the pain came.

Blinding and sudden, cruel, immense, so profoundly unexpected that all he could do was choke on his own breath.

His torso fell backwards, bending much farther that it should have. His heartlight pulsed erratically as he heaved, adrenaline rushing through him and locking his every muscle in place. His legs were slumped, completely unresponsive like the rest of his lower body; all that was keeping his entire form from crashing on the pavement like a broken doll were the kind, solid, dependable arms of his brother.

A hand wriggled in the now empty space where it had shattered his spine in a morbidly playful way.

He was laid down gently, all things considered.

His eyes only stared at his butcher wide and thoughtless like those of a helpless Rahi before a much faster predator.

Pohatu smiled down at him sweetly, exactly like he always did.

"I missed your soft spot for me."

He tore his hand out of his brother's spine with a ghastly crackle, not even flinching, to wrap it around his throat. He yanked: Kopaka coughed out an anguished wheeze as a chunk of his neck was thrown out, clattering a few bio across the floor.

Pohatu pressed his thumb between the Toa of Ice's face and his mask, applying just about the slightest leverage possible to part the two. It seemed to take ages, for the 'pop' of a dislodged Kanohi to echo through the silence of Kopaka's frantic breathing; but even with all that time for a counterattack at his disposal, he did not manage to raise even a single finger against the other. He only stared, fearful, shocked, in denial.

His brother laughed in the same way he always laughed - a gentle, booming sound, friendly and pleasant, that warmed one's heart.

"You couldn't hurt me if you wanted to with all your being," he mocked him, making the sneering words seem like yet another lighthearted joke as he twirled the Akaku between his fingers: "And isn't that why Tahu and Photok are dead?"

He looked onto the other's face. He'd seen it so few times - after being overwhelmed by the Piraka on Voya Nui, for example.

He remembered it had been awfully surreal, to see it; almost frightening, but familiar somehow.

It stirred nothing in him now.

How lovely.

Pohatu leaned closer to it, until he could feel the shaky breaths from Kopaka's mouth curl around him. They were barely fresh.

"A shame, eh?"

Blue eyes stared at him, horrified.

What a beautiful thing to see.

"That you couldn't save me after all."

He laughed his usual jovial laugh again as he stood up, joints cracking a bit while he stretched. The Akaku clicked onto him in a perfect fit.

How nice of him: pure unwarranted trust, forgiveness, an open door, a hug, and now even a fairly useful Kanohi to replace the one he'd been stripped of lest he use its powers to break himself out of containment. Truly, he was almost starting to feel spoiled.

Kopaka squirmed between his feet. Was he trying to get away?

He couldn't help but giggle.

"There's your only flaws: you're too smart for a leech to bite you."

Pohatu gifted him the sweetest of his smiles.

"And you love your siblings too much."

The air shattered beneath his foot with a sickening crunch.

Pohatu didn't even spare a glance at his brother as he walked away from his corpse, face crushed to bits making an absolute mess on the cold unfeeling pavement, body twitching before the rigor mortis settled in fully; the Toa of Shadow hummed a mindless, cruel song, something right out of a Makuta's repertoire, as he he made his way into the halls of Metru Nui's colosseum in search of whoever else in this enormous playground would have the honorable misfortune to be his second victim of the day.

[voiceofthesilly]

If me thoughts were more coherent id type up a thing about how if it weren't for our specific circumstances stubborn would often doom us but alas

[dontforgetthedragon]

a metric i go by for how good a piece of media is is whether the child characters are allowed to ugly cry or show messy difficult emotions when distressing or traumatic things happen to them or whether theyre relegated to emotionless or perma-happy angelic little props for the sake of older characters growth whatever they go through

[eudikot]

Not to discount my poll (not that it matters I think we all know what option is winning) but I did want to see if there was any canon evidence on Reigen's hair color and stumbled upon this post

[jammyshouse]

finally accepting i am a gay man rather than whatever i thought i was is explaining a lot about everything to the point it’s actually making me angry. like man. man i guess it was very fucking obvious to everyone except me huh

[nutria--oscura]

Just said (outloud) "ohmigosh I love looking at sorting algorithms so much!" as I added a 58minute "sorting algorithms to study/relax to" video to watch later. knowing full well I will watch all 58minutes and 4secons of that algorithm sorting bars as intently as a surgeon looks at their patient whilst performing surgery

And my parents still haven't realised I'm autistic how?

[mexashepot]

Went to bed at 4 am only to be woken up by voices of my friends gossiping about me (and others I assume) at 06:50 am

I am so fucking EXHAUSTED