#I LOVE READING ANYTHING FROM YOU

[poppurini]

general lilia who's all tough on the outside, known for his aggressiveness in the battlefield but as soon as you're by his side- it's like everything his soldiers knew about him disappeared. he lets you do his eyeliner even when it's messy, he lets you put pink ribbons in his hair and uniform, and he giggles n smiles like you have the sun on your fingertips with the way you warm his skin.

in my delusional era you have me down bad for this man omg. also i needed to this out of my system ihaven't written ANYTHING in so long *sobs

“Y/n, darling, not here-”

the fearsome general of briar valley could only sigh and go along with your whims as you tugged him to sit down, a soft giggle escaping your lips—that he missed dearly—as you instructed the general of briar valley to sit still, your voice jokingly stern.

his hair, his wrist, his arm— you busied yourself with tying some bows onto the man with baby pink ribbons while humming a calm tune. your laugh, like melody to his ears, ring occasionally in the night when you hear his quiet grumble.

when he saw his subordinates staring at him in silence, he only waved a dismissive hand before deadpanning at baul who stood not so far away.

even though he wasn’t particularly fond of your actions, he couldn’t bring himself to reject you when you looked so happy. especially since he knows he would have to leave you for another week or so after tonight; this was the least he could provide for you as your lover. you’d catch him gaze at you with adoration, concealed by that stoic demeanour he had put up for himself as briar valley’s protector. you’d grow hot and shy when he tucks a strand of your hair away, murmuring why you don’t just put the bows on yourself instead as you’d look way cuter than him before giving you a teasing tap on the cheek with the back of his finger, his smugness evident through the quiet chuckle he had let out. some tough general he is.

++ irah i can’t do this anymore when i made that post i wasn’t asking for an ask that made me evaporate into thin air??? you could’ve kept this to yourself why involve me???? i don’t even know who l*lia is i got nothing to do with that man pls stop harassing me /j

[laurellala-comics]

Fun fact! This was the real tipping point that made Edgeworth run away after AA1, they just couldn't show it on screen because they didn't have the rights to Chappell Roan's music <3

(A spiritual successor to my "Hot to Go" joke from this post. Image description under the cut below)

[Image ID: a four page black and white comic of characters from ace attorney.

The Judge stands solemnly at his podium holding a gavel "Mr. Miles Edgeworth, you are on trial for the murder of blah blah blah..."

A cheerful Maya Fey leans over to Miles Edgeworth, who is staring straight ahead and looking very concerned

Maya: "Psst! Mr. Edgeworth! If you win your trial, can I show you Chappell Roan?

Miles: "What the hell, sure." Internally he thinks "Oh God I am going to jail"

A box saying "later" in the top corner of the next panel marks the passage of time.

The Judge smiles as he says "I declare you... Not Guilty!"

We see a full body shot of Maya dancing excitedly while Miles looks on, emotionless

Maya: YIPPEE omg you're going to LOVE this

Miles internally thinks "oh no, the consequences of my actions.

We see Miles standing in between Phoenix Wright and Maya looking apprehensive. Maya beams in excitement, while Nick puts a reassuring hand on Miles' shoulder

Miles: Alright, so what is this exactly?

Nick: She's a pop musician Maya really likes

Maya: You promised you'd let me show you, and it's legally binding because you said it in a court room!

Miles: That is not how the law works Ms. Fey

Maya: Shh just listen!

We see a panel of Miles' pensive face concentrating as he listens to "Hot to Go". He thinks to himself "hm".

Another panel zoomed in more. His pensive expression has grown more tense/confused as he listens to "Red Wine Supernova". he again thinks to himself "Hm" in a larger thought bubble.

We zoom out again to see Nick, Miles, and Maya standing together again. Miles stares forward blankly, eyebrows raised. Maya excitedly leans in.

Maya: Ok, that's her whole discography. So! What did you think?

Nick looks at him, waiting for his response

We get a panel of Miles, looking bewildered. He starts to speak "I..."

We cut again to see the three of them standing together.

Miles: I... don't think I like women?

Miles looks shocked and confused. Nick is bent over laughing, using a hand on Miles's shoulder to support himself. Maya looks outraged and appalled!

Maya: MR. EDGEWORTH! Just because you don' like her musi it doesn't give you an excuse to be sexist!

We see a panel of Miles looking stressed and confused. He leans his head on one of his hands, which messes up his hair, showing how he isn't his normal put together self.

Miles: I should rephrase that. What I mean is, Ms. Roan is clearly VERY assured in her feelings towards women. I was... unaware that anyone felt that strongly. I thought we all viewed these things with a vague sense of distaste and unease but collectively ignored it. Like how we do with climate change.

We zoom out again to see the three of them. Miles stands in the middle looking deeply uncomfortable and lost in thought, vibrating with unease. Nick and Maya exchange deeply concerned glances across from him.

With lingering unease, Miles begins to walk away.

Miles: Well, I should be going then. Goodnight.

Nick hesitantly raises a finger to point out an inaccuracy in that statement

Nick: It's four in the afternoon-

he gets interrupted by Miles who repeats firmly: I said Goodnight

Nick looks in the direction Miles walked off in.

Nick: ...He'll be ok, right?

Maya reassures him: Of cours Nick! I mean, what's the worst that can happen?

Jump cut to a closeup of Nick's hand holding Miles' letter which reads Miles Edgeworth chooses death in all caps. Then, below in smaller font, it says Also femininomenon was really good, thanks.

We see a panel of Nick glaring wordlessly at Maya as he holds the letter in his hand. Maya leans against the wall and looks away, whistling, trying to look innocent to avoid blame.

As a bonus, we also have a page that takes place a year later. Miles and Nick stand talking. Miles looks calmer now, and Nick smiles encouragingly.

Miles: In my time in Europe, I've been examining myself and my approach to law. Ultimately, the most important focus must be justice. We owe it to ourselves and to the people we serve

Nick: Wow, that's really inspiring Edgeworth. And, uh, hows the... the other thing going?

We get a zoomed in panel of Miles glaring menacingly at a suddenly nervous Nick

Jumping out again, Miles turns his back to Nick as he continues to talk

Miles: So as I was saying, justice is truly so important...

Nick nervously rubs the back of his neck wearing an awkward expression as he sweats nervously. He thinks to himself internally "Ooookay then, clearly still working through some things there"

/.End ID]

[lucabyte]

i CANNOT stress enough how incompatible the themes of these two pieces of media are. i promise my media literacy ability is actually good im well aware that these character mappings are absolutely nothing. that said. play with me in this space. in this sopping wet miserable space. its bad luck to kill a piou piou

original screenshots (and hypnosis 1904) for reference

[kagoutiss]

pelican town, ‘72

[benevolenterrancy]

("Always. Continuously. With increasing apprehension, and decreasing hope. I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday. I will love you as a corpse loves the beak of the vulture. I will love you no matter what happens to you, and no matter how I discover what happens to you, and no matter what happens to me as I discover this." -- paraphrased from The Beatrice Letters, Lemony Snicket)

[xitsensunmoon]

Moon was never the one to use more words than needed.

Short, restrained and stingy. It didn't take long to get used to it. Truly, his soft glowing presence meant more to you than he'd ever know.

Sometimes, in the most deafening of nights, you had the honour to hold your breath and listen. Every syllable falling out of his voicebox left a strange weight on your shoulders you couldn't quite decipher. Yet, you treated his offerings like gold.

But mostly, he preferred to mimic the pale celestial body he represents. The silent, but attentive observer, always burning a hole in your back with its eyes.

You weren't alarmed. You were its favourite star after all.

Yet, secretly, it was something you deeply disliked about him. Part of you scraping at the back of your throat every time the room falls silent. And it's not that the calm bothered you. No. No.

You just wish you could hear his voice more often.

His raspy, rumbling tone scratching your brain so nicely, so right, your head snapping in its direction every damn time. Please, just one more word. The night is so much more beautiful when the moon is generous.

Sun said he wasn't always like this. Lullabies and storytellings, book readings and games, little ones falling asleep so swiftly under the gentle melody. Memories stored far away, tarnished with sorrow.

You wondered if there was anything to tug at the strings of his past self. To get him to talk more. To get him to want to talk more.

You wish you could take your words back. But the cost was too high, for him and for you.

...

Your hand cups the side of his faceplate, his voice, seeping into the air in endless vows and pleas, tirelessly infinite like the night itself. For the first time since you knew him, your ears could have him in his full glory.

You wish it wasn't so full of despair. So full of grief. So full of fear.

His hands cradle your body, so cold and sharp, like the gentlest of daggers. Your life spilling onto the bouncy floors in swirls of red.

You can't bring yourself to care. Your eyelids feel heavy, but his voice clings to your very soul, firmly holding onto you, snatching you from death's embrace. His voice, cradling you better than the fluffiest of graves.

His tears burn your cold face like acid. Your mouth moves as you choke on metallic tanginess, the words bleed onto your soaked shirt in language no one but ghosts can understand.

Please, don't cry. I love you. I love you. Your voice is so beautiful.

For once, you're the silent observer. For once, he's the one begging you to speak. He will not ask for forgiveness. Just keep your eyes on me.

Please, just one more word.

The sight of him, your world, fades into darkness. Your ribs nearly crack under the suffocating weight of his prayers. His voicebox whines and screeches, words inaudible but his.

It sounds like a song.

His last gift. Your last lullaby.

What a lovely sound to fall asleep to.

[maddymoreau]

Thinking about how Diavolo’s feelings transcend time and how in the Nightbringer UR+ card Demon Lord’s Castle Tour this conversation happens.

When asked, “Do you wish to see your father?”

Diavolo responds:

“I suppose I do . . .” isn’t the typical reaction to how a child would feel about wanting to see their parent. Especially when said parent has essentially been in a coma for a year.

Along with how Diavolo describe his father.

It makes more sense why when you learn in Lesson 56 how Diavolo was treated by him growing up.

Diavolo can tell when others are lying but is unable to understand his father’s intentions.

Diavolo mentions that he lived a very sheltered life growing up. That from a young age his father never allowed him a chance to talk to anyone outside the castle.

His childhood friend was Mephistopheles. A demon literally RAISED to be his friend. Putting a barrier between the two because Mephistopheles would put Diavolo on a pedestal.

The isolating childhood he experienced riddled with his strict father constantly scolding him.

Despite everything MC is so important to him he wants to see his father again so we can meet.

[vaguely-concerned]

in shambles over lucanis' big ol' 🥺eyes while asking rook if they can come with him to plan caterina's funeral and the barest pretense that it's because spite might pull something. spite, who we have no reason to infer from how that goes down says or does anything during that whole thing. I do so love the consistency of the background hum of 'hm. you know lucanis perhaps the real problem here isn't so much the demon thing but a lot more about the life experience you've had up until now that makes you think wanting a friend to come along to help you bury a loved one is something you're not allowed (nor frankly know how) to ask for'

*agonized rook voice* LUCANIS lucanis you must understand I would go with you into hell itself. I will live in your heart, die in your lap and be buried in your eyes. and moreover I will come with you to your grandma's funeral arrangements fuck sorry about your life 😬

[canisalbus]

hi sorry in advance if this is weird but i couldn't for the life of me figure out who machete was reminding me of and just now i figured it out - surku the dog from the moomins. can't remember enough to tell how accurate that is personality wise but something about the image of a distressed pointy-nosed dog shivering in a coat... plus ne on molemmat ahdistuneita queer ikoneita

I love Surku! Surku must be protected at all costs.

If you ask me, he's even more distressed in the comics.

I keep him on my fridge door as well.

But now that we're on the topic of Moomin characters, I must add that I see Machete in various Fillyjonks a lot. The short story Fillyjonk who believed in disasters is one of my favorite pieces of literature ever, when I first read it it shook me to my core, I still revisit it on yearly basis. For someone who seemed so wild and free spirited by nature, Tove Jansson did remarkable job at catching and depicting the essence of anxiety, uncertainty, vague sadness and irrational fears. At least in my opinion.

[penguin-stars]

Re-reading thanks to Vol 1 being released is so much fun because:

‘That stupid dragon and that paralyzed son of a bitch. Where did all of them go?’

Did he seriously call Raon a stupid dragon? Oh boy, Raon would not like that

It seems like Cale's inner monologue knows no mercy

Raon? Has been called dumb *and* stupid

On and Hong? Nosy punks

Alberu? Has been called a wide variety of names ("He had an extremely useful worker, no, hyung-nim" << I'm still not over this one)

Even Lee Soo Hyuk, who seems to get nothing but praise from him got called 'kind of slow' once

And don't get me started on Choi Han, the amount of flattery he gets is directly proportional to the amount of digs Cale throws at him in his mind

No one is safe from this man's inner monologue

[johnbly]

[r-aindr0p]

Read dungeon meshi up to vol.8 so far, so here you go Can't stop taking back the (vol.8) book and looking through the pages again and again and I'm wondering why does Mithrun just... grab Not even to use his magic, he just... grabs...

[bumblingbabooshka]

I love Vulcans we need to get more into the emotional lives of Vulcans without imposing Human standards onto them. "The way you feel is wrong/repressive because it's not the way it's "supposed" to be from my perspective as an alien called Human" is boring to me especially when it's treated as correct. I wanna know how the aliens feel about their alien way of life. Vulcans are so interesting to me when written AS aliens and not as analogous to repressed Humans. I think about Tuvok's description of attachment to his family and how that isn't the emotion 'love' but something else, something that he feels no shame about having and sees as normal, as naturally Vulcan and I love it and I love it because there aren't any Humans there to go "Um actually checkmate you Vulcan s.o.b - that's emotion!" and he isn't being influenced by anything. These are his authentic thoughts. He sees his children, his family, as part of him. They were at times illogical, incomprehensible, and it was extremely rewarding to be in their lives. He thinks about them every day. They were well behaved. As teens they were contemptuous of authority and convinced of their own superiority. His youngest son loved one 200 verse story so he sang it to him. He'd rather die than betray his wife even in spirit. He's incomplete without them. It's obvious through Tuvok that Vulcan life is not inherently devoid of pleasure, comfort, or love and thus Human life (I think) should not be portrayed as inherently having something greater, deeper, more meaningful. I'm not talking here of society but of...emotional life. Interiority. There's this sense that all Vulcans are the same and miserable for it. That they hold themselves back and are indistinguishable and antagonistic to the self, repressed and wrong. That to be Vulcan is to suffer endlessly and Humans are all about Freedom Man and I don't know, I like that Tuvok's existence sort of challenges this as much as I acknowledge that Vulcan society is in fact repressive and unwelcoming to those who don't fit neatly into it. I'm not saying Vulcan society is a utopia, I'm questioning the perception of Vulcan emotional control - that way of life - as being inherently bad, devoid, or lacking. That Vulcans walk around with 'empty cups' and are only deluding themselves that to be that way is good. If only, Humanity moans, they could taste how delicious life could be! Tuvok is an average Vulcan. He does not struggle with emotion, he is not mixed species, he was not raised atypically, and yet he has a family he cares about and a wife he's loyal to and friends he values and none of these things seem to be Un-Vulcan to him. If Vulcan life was truly devoid of love and care, Tuvok wouldn't think of his family. They're not here, so why bother? When his pon farr came, he'd be trying to find the most compatible mate rather than risking his life by trying to meditate through it out of loyalty to T'Pel. T'Pel would also have just given Tuvok up for dead instead of waiting and his children wouldn't have traveled all the way to the most holy temple on the planet to say prayers for his safe return. I think these things are interesting and I wish they'd been explored more. The fact that caring about your family, caring about your friends, is not Un-Vulcan. The fact that Tuvok at no point longs for Humanity, sees nothing better or of interest to him in it. (Even in his teenage rebellion he only says he's sorry he was born Vulcan which reads less as Vulcan v Human and more like 'I hate this goddamn family' ykwim?). I want to know more about how Vulcans interact with each other, how they care for one another, what it means and what it's like to be Vulcan in more of an everyday way rather than what it means to be Vulcan vs Human.

[tapakah0]

[buttercupshands]

I've been thinking a lot lately

ref to the quote under the cut

under the cut for maybe some people that would like to try and guess *shruggs*

[caustinen]

clegan drabble — chance encounter, first meeting, modern au

By the third time the guy makes his way over to the bar, Gale has to really work on not throwing his Coke bottle to the liquor shelf and start breaking stuff.

”Seriously man, are you sure we don’t-” ”No, we have not met before,” he responds as politely as he can through his teeth, “and no, I do not need company. And no, I will not go home with you. Excuse me.”

The guy’s drunken gaze falls to his lips as he talks, making Gale suspect he has not heard a single word he has said all night despite repeating himself over and over. The glassy eyes eventually turn back to his, and the man licks his lips as his expression morphs into a what he surely thinks is a seductive smirk.

”Come on, baby. Humor me a bit. Let my buy you a drink.” Gale exhales in frustration. The ick he gets from this man is ridiculous. ”I told you already, I don’t need a drink, I’d really just like to-”

He stops abruptly when the man takes a tight hold of his bicep. ”Hey, could you-” ”This hard-to-get act is getting old now, gorgeous.” ”I’m not-” The grip gets tighter, another hand reaches for his thigh, and Gale is about to get violent despite not wanting to get in trouble at their frequent spot when-

”Hi Buck, there you are! I’m real sorry I left you here all by yourself for so long, the queue to the toilet was insane.” A pleasant, carefree voice comes up from behind him. He turns to find a gorgeous smile on a gorgeous face he doesn’t recognize. The man’s smile is tense on a futher look, though, and his eyes are questioning as he lays a careful hand on Gale’s shoulder, clearly ready to pull back immediately if he gets any indication that the action is unwanted.

Gale exhales quietly again before covering the hand now on his shoulder with his own, immediately catching on. ”It’s okay.” It’s easy to slide away from the icky man’s grasp now, his surprise making him loosen his hold on Gale. Gale tries to avoid looking at him and accidentally leans closer towards the other man, his aura calming despite towering over Gale’s propotions in every direction. The man doesn’t seem to mind, still smiling from under his curls. ”Ready to go home, doll?”

Gale nods immediately. The drunk dude has been looking between them for a bit before his eyes land on the taller man. ”I’m real sorry mate, I didn’t realize he was-” The man’s face changes immediately when he looks away from Gale to the other guy, the youthful happiness turning into coldness that makes him look mature and strick. ”Yeah, whatever. Go home, sober up and learn some fucking manners, you fucking jackass.” With that, he’s gently leading Gale to the door.

He doesn’t let go until they are out of the other guy’s view, but he does drop his hand immediately as the door closes behind them. It’s probably the chill of the autumn evening and not the departure of the solid body against him that’s making Gale feel cold suddenly but it’s still unpleasent. ”Sorry,” the man says almost frantically, ”I didn’t mean to intrude but you were looking pretty miserable before he even showed up and when he got his hands on you-” The man sighs and shakes his head. ”Didn’t look like you were happy with it, somehow, so I just wanted to check on you. No clue where the fake boyfriend thing came from though, I’m so sorry if I-”

”Don’t be,” Gale says firmly, and the man immediately relaxes again, ”I don’t know why I froze like that, it was nice someone else de-escalated it like that. My friend went to argue with his boyfriend on the phone like 30 minutes ago and never showed up again so I was pretty pissed anyway.” The man nods, and the warmth Gale feels under his intense gaze shouldn’t feel this exciting, surely.

”Well then…” The guy lifts his arm and scratches the back of his neck, ”I don’t wanna take more of you’re time, I hope you’re oka-” Gale doesn’t think, in an unusual manner to him, when he interrupts him. ”I, eh, actually… I’d love to thank you somehow? Maybe buy you some late night dinner?” The man’s face lights up again, and Gale feels silly in a way he doesn’t often do.

”I’d love that. I’ll go tell my friends I’m leaving and meet you up here after?” ”Sounds good.” They stare at each other for a beat despite the words, and Gale swears he’s not blushing when he sticks his hand out jerkily. ”Gale Cleven.” The man smirks, his eyes turning to lines as it overcomes his face. ”John Egan,” he introduces himself as he reaches to shake his hand, ”but you can call me Bucky.”