#I don't if I'm making more sense or less sense now

[xxsquiddkiddxx]

Heels ~ Viktor x Reader

Pronouns for reader: She/Her

Relationship type: Platonic, romantic feelings, slight enemies to lovers if you unfocus your eyes a bit

General Idea: Viktor used to hate the sound of those damn boots of hers, but now he's grown to find an odd sense of comfort in the noise. Along with... a series of other feelings.

Content Warnings: Fluff, swearing, Viktor being sassy, s1 Viktor, Takes place between S1E3~E4, Viktor's kinda down bad but in a denial way, Viktor also isn't good at realizing he has feelings for the reader, Jayce needs a 32hr nap

A/N: My Viktor headcanons got a LOT more love than I thought they would... so I decided to write some more Viktor XD

(Nobody's POV, but it's mostly told. through Viktor's thoughts)

~☆~

The lab was pretty much silent. The only sounds heard were the sounds of Viktor tinkering with a Hextech device and the occasional flipping of pages as (Y/N) read some notes that Jayce had written. It was late, definetly past midnight as the two worked.

"(Y/N)," Viktor says, breaking the silence. The girl's head pops up at the sound of her name. "Come here for a second? I need a second pair of hands."

"Be right there." She says, finishing the page she was on. She stands up and walks towards him, the sound of her boots hitting the tile as she walks.

Clack

Click

Clack

Viktor used to hate the sound of her boots. "Those damn boots are so annoying," He had complained to Jayce during the first week of (Y/N) working as a part-time assistant. "Click clack click clack, drives me insane!" He had mocked before sighing.

"Viktor... don't both your boots AND your cane make that noise as well?"Jayce had responded, raising an eyebrow with a teasing smile. This made Viktor at a loss for words.

"Well... It's annoying when she does it!" He had sassed back in response, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

That was 3 years ago. Now, he found a weird sense of comfort in hearing the sound of her boots hit the floor. He couldn't explain why, enjoyment of familiarity maybe?

"What's up?" (Y/N) says, standing behind Viktor. The smell of her perfume was almost overwhelming to him, overloading his senses. Which was weird, seeings as it must've been almost 13 hours since she'd last applied perfume. And that doesn't last long... was he delusional? Or maybe just tired? Whatever. It doesn't matter.

"Yeah, I just need you to hold this in place." Viktor says, not even looking up from what he's doing. He gestures to a little piece of metal he's holding. (Y/N) leans over Viktor and holds the piece in place as requested. The scientist trys his best to ignore the feeling of her closeness and the racing of his heart... holy crap was it warm in here? It must've been. Although it seemed strange to him that it was magically warm in here all of a sudden. This spirals him into a memory, a memory that took place a little less than a week prior to now.

Viktor sat at his desk, for once not to work on Hextech, but to run his hands through his hair and stay deep in thought.

"Viktor?" Jayce asked. "Are you OK? You haven't been as focused as you normally are today. Did something happen?"

"I think... I think there's something genuinely wrong with me." Viktor says. "Like... maybe I'm coming down with something?? I don't know." Viktor stands up, leaning on his cane slightly for support.

"Oh?" Jayce asks, raising an eyebrow. "Could you, uh, possibly elaborate on that?"

"Well, for one everytime Ms.(L/N) comes near me I about have a damn heart attack." Viktor says, his cane clacking softly on the floor as he paces. "Like yesterday, perfect example. She accidently brushed my hand when she was passing me a paper and I actually thought I was dying."

Jayce suppresses a smile, trying not to laugh. Was Viktor really getting THIS worked up... over a little crush? "Oh?" Jayce says, still suppressing a smile. "Is that it?"

"Whenever she's near me, I swear to the gods that I become hyperaware of... like... everything." Viktor says. "Like the room feels warmer, her perfume or her shampoo is ALL I can smell, I'm almost convinced I know every single speckle of color in her eyes... I think I might actually be going crazy." Viktor says, stopping his pacing. "I'm positive. I've actually hit the breaking point and am decending into insanity."

Jayce now can't help but laugh. Maybe it was his lack of sleep from working on Hextech for days on end, maybe it was the seriousness in Viktor's voice about his "decent to madness." Jayce's laughter came out as almost wheezes due to how hard he was laughing.

Viktor throws his hands up in exasperatedness. "Jayce!" Viktor scolds. "This ISN'T funny! There's-"

This just makes Jayce laugh more and more. "Yes it is, Viktor." Jayce manages to say through wheezes. He's holding onto the desk for support as he laughs. It gets to the point where passersby become mildly concerned for the scientist's wellbeing. "I assure you you're not decending to madness."

"Then what the hell is going on????" Viktor exclaims, collapsing into his chair.

"Relax you just have a little crush, it's fine." Jayce says, wiping the tears of laughter away as he tries to steady his breathing.

"Viktor?" The sound of his name snaps him out of the memory. "You good? I think I said your name like five times." (Y/N) says with a chuckle. Viktor shakes his head slightly.

"Uh, yeah. I'm fine." Viktor says, continuing what he was doing. He tried to ignore the slight shake in his hands, the side of his own hand pressed against Ms. (L/N)'s own hand. When he's done. He about throws the screwdriver down. "Thank you for your assistance." Viktor says, the weight off his shoulders earning a little sigh of relief.

"Was that all you needed?" (Y/N) asks.

"I'm pretty sure, yeah." Viktor says. (Y/N) hums in response, walking over to her desk. Click, clack, click, clack. Her boots echo in the room. She grabs her coat and walks towards Viktor again.

"I'm gonna head out then." She says. Click, clack, click, clack. The sound of her boots ring in Viktor's head, a haunting sound that he didn't actually mind having on replay in his brain. "You should too soon." She says, her voice kind and soft.

Viktor's stomach feels like it's about to leap out of his body. Even though it was scientifically impossible, he couldn't help but worry about it. "I will soon." He says, the softness in his voice actually shocking him. Normally he'd just lie out his teeth and sleep in the lab, or not sleep at all. However, when he said that he would... he truly meant it. His eyes move away from the project and to (Y/N). "I'm just gonna finish this little bit up."

(Y/N) smiles, it's tired and small, but it's still a smile nonetheless. Seeing her smile along made the corners of his lips feel like they were moving on their own. He suppresses a smile the best he can, but it still shows on his face. "Goodnight, Viktor." She says, her voice still soft. She didn't speak full volume, and that for some reason made Viktor's heart rate skyrocket.

"Goodnight, (Y/N)." He says, the same tone and volume as (Y/N). She turns and walks out of the room. Click, clack, click, clack. He listens to the sound of her shoes until they completely fade out.

"Relax you just have a little crush, it's fine."

Viktor didn't have a crush on (Y/N)... did he?

~☆~

For more fics: my masterlist

Feel free to request fics!!!

~Squeed

[twoflowers]

Stiff Shoulders, Weak Knees: Sanji x Reader

Read on AO3

Description: Sanji has been hard at work in the kitchen; you decide his stiff shoulders need a bit of attention. Predictably, Sanji is a mess. You didn't realize it would be quite this easy to get Black Leg Sanji on his knees. (SFW, suggestive)

Tags: Massage, nosebleeds (of course), light fdom, female reader, no use of Y/N, no description of reader, AND: (Sanji's constant need for validation of his cooking skills, Sanji's eternal need to be of use to the people around him, and Sanji's fantasy of being a fairytale knight kissing the hand of a beautiful queen he has pledged undying loyalty to. This man is a dork, people!)

Word count: 1276. Something short and sweet while I work on a longer fic based on a prompt by @mere-mortifer

Give this video a thumbs up if this man should actually get a massage in part 2!

Stiff Shoulders, Weak Knees

Sanji startles when you put a hand on his shoulder, not because he didn't sense you behind him (he could never fail to notice you entering a room, has been feeling pleasant, anticipatory prickling on his scalp and the back of his neck since you entered the kitchen), but because you've never touched him like this before. An occasional brush of arms, sure. A slightly more frequent brush of fingers, absolutely. He only seems to lose his grip on dishes when he's handing them to you, which is by complete coincidence. 

But your hand is firmly on his shoulder, fingers settling above his collarbone even when he turns to look at you.

“May I make anything for you?” He asks automatically. He carefully avoids looking at your hand in case you're touching him by accident - best not to remind you.

You smile fondly. “After tonight's dinner, I don't think I could eat anything else if I tried. It was excellent.”

Sanji can already feel his knees weakening. Excellent: now there's a good word, a perfect word, that he'll hold onto for later. 

“I'm so glad you think so. I thought of you especially while making it.”

��You say that to all the ladies.”

“It's true.”

Your hand is still on his shoulder. You tighten it a bit, perhaps appreciatively, perhaps condescendingly. He isn't sure which option he likes best.

“I brought my plates back down.” You gently set them in the sink with your other hand, and Sanji immediately picks up his sponge again. He doesn't know when he dropped it. 

“I'll get them done right away,” he stutters. “You're sure you don't want anything? A nightcap? Some tea? - I have a wonderful hibiscus from our last time on shore that would pair nicely with-”

“Sanji…” The quirk of your lip makes it certain: you are condescending him. A small shudder racks his shoulders.

“Mm?” His eyes flicker back and forth from you to the dishes. 

“You're working too hard,” you squeeze sharply at his shoulder, and he jumps at the pain. He's biting his lip when he finally makes eye contact, cheeks already starting to flush.

“See? Your muscles are so stiff.” You move behind Sanji, slipping your other hand up his back and to his opposite shoulder. You dig your thumbs into the muscles bracketing his spine, and he jerks forward toward the sink as if pulled by an invisible force. “Does that hurt?”

“You could never hurt me,” he breathes. 

“Oh?” You tighten your grip, thumbs poking deeply into his stiff back and stroking upwards to his neck. Hard, firm pressure. 

Sanji’s hands reach out to grip the edge of the sink. The sponge falls forgotten into soapy water. His knuckles are white, arms trembling. “Nothing… you do to me could ever hurt me.” His voice is wavering in a delicious way. “Even if it’s painful.”

You hum thoughtfully, dipping one of your thumbs under the collar of his shirt. Skin swipes against skin, and Sanji lets out a whine. 

“We can’t have our cook in anything less than peak condition, can we?” You mumble, still thumbing his soft skin. 

Sanji lets out something halfway between a gasp of pleasure and a laugh of disbelief, hands clenching still tighter.

“We need you healthy,” your hands move down his back, resting just under his shoulder blades. “I need your cooking.”

Somehow, that’s what breaks him. He arches forward with a groan, shoulders shaking.

“Let me help you relax,” you offer. “How about a massage?”

One of Sanji’s hands shoots from the sink to under his nose. He audibly swallows; blood dribbles down his fingers as he pulls his hand away. He nods weakly.

“What was that?” You can’t help but prod, not when he’s this vulnerable. Sometimes you feel like Sanji is a big bruise that you can’t help but poke at.

He nods again. Your hands instantly find his waist, thumbs stroking circles through his suit jacket.

“Use your words.”

“Please. Anything.”

“Such good manners,” you coo. You slip your hands away from Sanji, savoring the way his body freezes in anticipation. You take a lace handkerchief from the counter and gently cup his chin, turning his face towards you.

He looks so small, curling forward like he can’t trust his knees to hold him upright. His face is an impressive shade of red, almost as dark as the blood dripping over his plush, bitten lips. His eyes, surprisingly, aren’t as gleaming and heart-shaped as they usually are around you. 

You can’t help but grin at having finally caught him so off-guard. His eyes become wide, almost frantic, as you swipe a thumb over his chin. There you are. Finally, finally, I’ve reached underneath.

You hold his face more firmly and bring the towel up to clean him, but he flinches. Not away from you- you have a feeling he couldn’t move away if he tried.

“I don’t want to stain it,” he all but begs. “It was… I was planning on using it for plating your evening tea.”

“I told you I’m not hungry.” It’s blatant, obvious teasing, but Sanji’s eyes droop miserably nonetheless. 

“Here we go…” You wipe the handkerchief under his nose. Blood saturates lace, and Sanji’s eyes flutter shut in defeat. 

When you’re done, you pull away and fold the cloth carefully. Sanji watches in equal parts confusion, misery, and awe. When you tuck it into your pocket, Sanji gasps, another trickle of blood falling onto his lips.

“I just finished cleaning you up,” you scold. 

Sanji’s lip quivers from the humiliation, but you quickly lean forward and place your lips under his nose. It’s barely a kiss. You pull away shortly after, tongue darting out to taste his still-warm blood. 

Sanji drops to his knees so hard you hear bone hit wood. His shaking hands grasp one of yours, pulling it to his lips: no contact, just puffs of hot, frantic breath. One knee up, and he’d look like a soldier being knighted by his queen. 

“May I?” He’s trembling. He almost looks like he’s salivating. Your hand is small in his, but his are so much softer, skin scrubbed down from washing dishes, still red-tinged from the sink’s hot water.

You nod, and he gasps into the first kiss. His lips linger on the back of your hand, wet and bloody. You flip it over, and he moans, kissing your palm and trailing up your inner arm. The entire time, his eyes are on yours, searching for the faintest hint of displeasure. 

“Sanji?”

He immediately pulls away, breathing hard, still tentatively holding your hand. 

“Yes?” He looks ready for any command. Blood is smeared across his face and up your arm. You didn’t realize it would be quite so easy to get Black Leg Sanji on his knees, but you should have expected as much.

“The goal was to make you more comfortable. You look like you’re hurting your knees.”

Sanji shakes his head with enough ferocity that his bangs are knocked out of place, almost covering his other eye. “I could never complain about being allowed this.” 

He looks at your arm with some panic, then begins to wipe the blood away with his own shirtsleeve. 

“Sanji. Stand up.”

He obeys immediately.

“We are going to go to my quarters,” you say. 

He nods along dumbly. 

“And you are going to lie on my bed.”

His face flushes a brilliant red.

“And I’m going to give you an incredible massage.”

He swallows, swaying forward on his feet. You take the cue to grab him by his tie and lead him down the hallway, dishes long forgotten.

[alexanderwales]

One of the things they went over when I took linguistics was the "euphemism treadmill", the tendency of initially-clinical or neutral words to undergo pejoration to the point that someone felt the need to replace the pejorated word with one that was clinical or neutral. And then of course the process of pejoration would start again.

The best example of this were words related to what we now call intellectual disability. In the past, "idiot", "simpleton", "moron", "feeble-minded", and "imbecile" were all relatively clinical terms. (This is one of those things that's often repeated, but if you go looking at newspapers from the 1920s, you do kind of wonder whether the negative connotations were just completely acceptable then, especially when they're talking about the successes of sterilizing the feeble-minded.)

The reason that pejoration happens is that while the word changes, the societal attitude toward the underlying thing most often does not, and so if they change the word and declare that this new word is totally neutral, then society's negative view is just going to keep making those words take on bad connotations. This will happen even with the most anodyne descriptions, like "mentally handicapped", which Google will inform you with a little warning is offensive and dated.

The linguistics class I took in the early 2000s spent a little time on the word "retarded", which by then was well on its way to complete pejoration (federal law was changed in 2010, from "mental retardation" to "intellectual disability"), but had not reached the point when it was "the r-slur". If I recall correctly, this was when "mentally handicapped" was still relatively in vogue, and sitting in that classroom I had thought that "retard" was going to go the way of "moron", a word that was used exclusively in a disparaging way. I thought it would be about as acceptable as calling someone an imbecile, I guess, which is impolite but which doesn't rise to the level of "slur".

But no, I was wrong. The euphemism treadmill will probably continue because we have not done anything about the underlying condition (that people with intellectual disabilities are less valued and looked down on), but "retard" has now become a slur, even if every other fucking word for low intelligence is still in common use as a disparagement.

It's wild how much you can see people dancing around this. I said above that Google gives an "offensive and outdated" tag to the term "mentally handicapped", but they also give that to "retarded". However, if you go to "imbecile" they don't give that tag. To save you the trouble of looking it up:

noun: imbecile; plural noun: imbeciles

a stupid person.

archaic a person of low intelligence.

Ah, lovely. So it's okay, because it just means "a stupid person", it used to mean "a person of low intelligence", but it doesn't mean that any more, so ... not offensive, I guess?

Except hold on, what does "stupid" mean again?

adjective: stupid; comparative adjective: stupider; superlative adjective: stupidest

having or showing a great lack of intelligence or common sense.

Oh, okay, I see. So in the archaic sense "imbecile" meant a person of low intelligence, but now it means a person who has a lack of intelligence. Totally different, very understandable. Nevermind that "imbecile" was pejorated in the same way that "retard" was, and that using a negative word to refer to someone who is lacking intelligence is basically the same thing.

I think if you want to fight against the pejorative use of the word "retard", you should probably be fighting against a lot more words, and you should definitely be fighting against the societal view that people with lower intelligence are lesser. You can fight the language issue all you want, but it's just going to lead to more cycles of pejoration. There's no way that switching over to saying "person with a learning disability" (as it seems the UK bureaucrats now favor) is going to somehow end it.

Personally, I'm the kind of person who just goes with the flow. I think people with intellectual disabilities are just as much people as anyone else, deserving of care and compassion, but I also value intelligence at least as much as my surrounding society does, and while I do make attempts to temper my language, saying that an idea is stupid rather than casting contempt on a person who is stupid, that's a mighty fine line to tow, and ... people just don't care. If I call a politician a moron, no one will bat an eye. I will refrain from saying the r-word, because people get mad at you when you do that. I think if I got hit in the head tomorrow and became intellectually disabled, I would be more or less happy with this.

I don't have a strong principled stance, more a stance of "come on, what are we doing here". Euphemism treadmill goes brrrr, language gonna language, I just wish the whole linguistic and social process didn't feel like some out of control machine that wasn't actually doing anything for anyone, and that people would pay more attention to the underlying mechanisms for how/why pejoration actually works. Changing the word is not going to usher in an era of understanding and equality, we've proven that, haven't we?

[back2bluesidex]

Slide - The Vacation - MYG

Pairing: Producer!Yoongi X Lyricist!Reader 

Theme: Angst, smut, unplanned pregnancy. Fwb to ?

Word count: 1.6k

Summary: 

"I can see the pain in your eyes I don't wanna say that I'm God, but I'll take you to heaven if you die" 

Alternatively, 

Yoongi finally finds an answer to all of his questions.

Listened to Slide by Chase Atlantics

Warnings: Angst, angst and angst

Minors do not interact!!

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Patreon (for early access)

Taglist requests are closed for now

A/N: This chapter has both readers and Yoongi's pov.

Read the next chapter

“I want to try being with you. If you’d let me.” Yoongi had said, just less than an hour ago, standing at your dining place. 

If you have ever thought you would be squealing like a schoolgirl when he mistakenly professes his love for you - then you had been wrong. Because those words of his - rang hollow. 

Those words of his had no promise, no meaning, only a tone of experiment - or maybe less than that. 

Your tears have dried up. You have cried much more in the span of a year than you ever had in these twenty eight years of life. 

So you don’t cry. 

Even when you stare at your bathroom mirror, without the sign of another life springing into you - you don’t cry. 

Even when the metallic smell of your own blood-soaked sheets dances around your senses - you don’t cry. 

Even when Yoongi’s voice saying he doesn’t know what he feels for you rings loudly in your head - you don’t cry. 

The woman who is standing at the place of your reflection is you - but emptier. 

Now, truly, you have nothing left in yourself. 

The baby is gone, Yoongi is gone, you - yourself - are gone. 

When Yoongi broke and scattered the broken pieces all over your sanity, you picked those up, put them up in a stack. 

Now that you are at the same place, who is going to do that for you? 

No one? 

Yourself. 

So you decide, you need a vacation. 

Attachment and Expectations are two human behaviors that you have always dreaded. 

You have purposefully stayed away from everyone, whoever you thought would get you attached. And you have always expected the least positive outcome whenever it comes to human connections. 

At the beginning, Yoongi was no exception. 

You admired him but never stepped past the professional boundaries in fear of getting attached, until he broke the norms. 

Even when you realized you fell in love, you expected nothing more than the warmth of his body. But your resolve weakened whenever he looked at you for a little longer than necessary, whenever he shared tales about Holly, whenever he treated you to a meal. 

Now that you are determined to heal yourself - you realize this is the root of the problem. 

You are attached to Yoongi and you have expected Yoongi to have a similar feeling towards you. 

Wrong. So wrong. 

You need to break free. 

So, you try to save what’s left of your sanity and avoid looking at Yoongi as he and Namjoon sit right across from you in the same meeting room where everything went south a month and half ago. 

Your feet bounce under the table, your breath shortens under Namjoon’s scrutinizing eyes. 

“Y/N, tell us what’s wrong? Why suddenly - I mean, I am not saying no your application but you have hardly ever been to such a long holiday? And if I am being honest, then you look quite unwell. Is there something we should know?” Namjoon is concerned, you know that. You are even grateful but you have no energy to answer him, no energy to lie anymore. 

You have no will to spend another minute inside the same room as Yoongi - because no matter what - you love him and you want him to wrap his hands around you and let you cry in his embrace. 

You want him to mourn with you. 

You want him to mourn for you. 

“I was pregnant. I lost the baby two nights ago. I am neither mentally nor physically fit to work for now. Besides, I don’t have any important projects going on.” you reply flatly. 

Saying these words out loud, makes things even more real. 

Pain crawls back inside your heart and fills your eyes to the brim. 

Namjoon has gone quiet. 

Yoongi has always been silent. 

“O-oh.. I- I didn’t know. I’m sorry. It must be tough, Y/N. Please take care of yourself.” Namjoon fumbles with words, a rare sight. 

Funny how your misery has rendered the smart ones dumb. 

He approves your leave in his laptop as you raise your feet to leave. 

“Are you going alone?” His voice interrupts your action. 

Yoongi doesn’t look at you, he stares blankly at the table. 

“Yes.” you reply.

“Stay safe.” he adds. 

And you want nothing more than to scream at him, to tell him that he fucked you up. But in reality you know he is troubled too - that it’s your fault as much as it's his.  

“Sure.” you mutter, as you quietly slip out of the room. 

Two nights ago when you left the bathroom the first thing you did was to look for your phone. When you found it laying idly by your laptop on your desk, you dialed Hoseok’s number for the second time that evening. 

You were incredibly sorry to him. 

He was but a stranger to you and had no responsibility of attending to your troubles but still he showed up when you called him sitting on your bloody bed and came rushing to you despite being busy. 

This time too, he received your call right after two rings. 

“I need a vacation, Hoseok. Do you.. Do you know any wellness retreats that might help me?” you asked.

“That’s a really good thought, Y/N. I will send you a few links, check those out, okay?” he replied. 

And that’s how you ended up packing your bags for a month-long retreat in Thailand. 

Yoongi didn’t come back home that night. 

He went straight to a snack bar and drank seven bottles of distilled Soju all alone. 

However, he didn’t black out this time. He knew there would be no calling you if he passed out on the floor, covered in vomit and mud. 

He knew there would be no kindness from your side - he doesn’t deserve it - he never had. 

While he drank the only thing he could recall is that you were carrying his baby. That you were on the very first step of being a mother and him a father. 

Weird how, if these same words would have come out Gyuri’s mouth, he would have freaked out so bad. 

But it’s you. And whenever he thought of you, he could picture a quiet life. A condo in an upscale neighborhood, floor to ceiling windows where he could enjoy mellow sunlight sitting on the couch with you. 

Where he could cook for you in the kitchen and then serve you food piping hot or maybe feed you upon blowing a little. 

Those thoughts had always shaken him to the core, made him question his feelings towards you but at the end of the day, he always left himself with no answer. 

On the next morning when he woke up with the worst hangover ever, he decided to do what you have asked him to. 

He decided to give himself time and question himself regularly, repeatedly, that what is it that he feels for you? 

And while doing so, he decided to stay away from you - give you time to find your footing and mourn for the loss. 

He decides to mourn too. 

However, he got completely ruined like a damp wall with several cracks when he read your leave application. 

You had applied for a month-long holiday. 

A month without you? Without seeing you for a glance? Without hearing from you, even a word? Without having to watch you pressing the button on the seventh floor on the elevator, without your quiet sitting figure in the meetings, without your habit of writing lyrics on pen and paper rather than using your ipad? 

Can he… can he survive? 

“Y/N..” he finds himself following you after you leave the meeting room. 

You don’t startle, nor do you turn back. You stand in the middle of the corridor and wait for him to finish his sentence. 

“When are you leaving?” he asks from where his feet are stuck on the floor. 

“Tomorrow morning.” you reply briefly. 

“Incheon?” 

“Gimpo” 

“Can I come? To see you off?” 

“You don’t need to.”

“I want to. I want to see you off. I want to know… to know what I- what I feel for you.” 

He confesses to your back. 

You, probably, sigh. 

“Okay.” you say before walking off. 

When he reaches the airport as per the timing you have sent him - he sees you sitting a little far away from the check in counter. 

“Hey.” he approaches you. 

You look up at him with tired, blank eyes. Your eyes want to make him cry. 

“Hi. I was only waiting for you. I gotta go check in.” your voice is just as blank. 

He nods. 

“Bye.” you try to walk away from him. 

But he stops you with a hand on your wrist. 

“I will.. I will be here when you come back.” he whispers, only for you to hear. 

You nod. 

And then something crashes inside Yoongi, the dam of his eyes breaks and tears start falling unbound. He pulls you closer to his body, envelops you in a hug. 

You stay still but he doesn’t mind. 

He relishes your warmth, your smell, your feel for as long as he can. 

When he lets go, his lips find yours. 

He kisses you softly, with everything he has in himself. 

You don’t kiss him back but he doesn’t mind. 

For you, he will wait. 

Because right then, while you part your way from him, Yoongi finds an answer to all his questions. 

Yoongi realizes… He is in love with you.

Permanent Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie @mikrokookiex @jjk174 @lallataegi @savageyoongi @jwnghyuns @parapiop7 @futuristicenemychaos @armystay89 @ryryvna @purple-realms

Requested Tags:

@ktownshizzle @ilys00ga @marihoneywk @yoongisoftface @sugaslittlekookies @joonwater @geminiml95 @ramicherie @wobblewobble822 @amarawayne @avawants2havefun @artemisdoe @jimintaemin @cuntessaiii @kam9404 @honeybloomyyyy @seoulazzyy @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @magicshop96

[srslylini]

I'm so sorry to tell you this OP, a micro expression that I need to pause the show for to see does not equal good writing. A show, and media in general, has to take our hand and guide us through it, I hate this stupid fucking sentence "you just want the show to take your hand" YES I DO, YES MEDIA NEEDS TO.

I don't want it to put everything infront of me and just carry me through it, I want it to fucking MAKE SENSE and GUIDE ME AS IT SHOULD. I do not want to sit here and decipher some weird fucking ass background to see "oh look the curtain split in the background indicates how this character is actually split in their decision🥺". That is NOT how this is meant to work. It is a nice addition but should not take away from actual character development.

Saying people rightfully calling this madness out "have an inability to read in between the lines" when what you are doing is adding your own context the show never gave or just straight up ignoring how "character" in media works

Them fucking in a cell was quite disturbing and disgusting. I'm a lesbian. I should be glad we got a lesbian scene. Yes, it has weird as fuck implications. Why are you talking as if your interpretation is the only one that can be right and now everyone needs to yield to it? Huh. Implications can and will happen unwillingly and willingly, by the way.

Caitlyn has war crimed her way through the Undercity, ruthlessly threw people into prison for no reason (they did actually show that, woah sick right), was ready to SHOOT someone with a child on their person that either would have hit the child or would have left the child with serious trauma, HIT VI INTO HER STOMACH AFTER SAID FACT, TOLD A PERSON WHILE SHE DIDNT YET WANT TO, SHE WOULD THROW HIM INTO THE DEEPEST DARKEST DUNGEONS, called people of the undercity animals, etc.

and you say 🥺actions mean more guys uwu🥺 shut up, genuinely.

Oh plus glorified suicide is never justifiable, wtaf. Do NOT dare to even say "but she lived". They SHOWED HER, a suicidal character, WILLINGLY JUMP WHILE PLAYING THE MUSIC SHE PREVIOUSLY TRIED TO KILL HERSELF WITH. They also made the other 2 characters that attempted sacrifice themselves. I watched this shit. I saw them imply a suicidal characters worth is to die as a sacrifice. This is not redemption. Redemption means a character getting better and hey, I think a character getting better kinda means they have to live, woah insane concept, right? I do not owe anyone any kind of private information about my person to talk about this, BY THE WAY.

They acted as if classism is a thing that simply disappears 🥺when faced with a bigger fiend guysssss die with us in our clothes, ignore how we treated you for years and years and how we killed and imprisoned you injustly and acted as if you were less🥺 yes, they fucked up Implications between Caitlyn and Vi never being addressed is insane. No "actions" (literally huh) do not mean more than words here.

edit: I'm gonna repeat, implication happens and will happen unwillingly and willingly and implications will also not be the same for everyone. If people tell you the implications of episode 7 with Vi's death was weird then that holds as much value as what you say it implies to you.

I knew we would eventually reach a point where masses of people would misinterpret Arcane, but I never imagined it would be this bad.

Yes, I absolutely agree that season 2 was rushed, especially Act 3, and it is undeniable that the series would have benefited from at least one more episode if not an entire act. However, the current discourse about the show is so superficial that it's impossible to have a conversation about anything deeper but a mere synopsis of the characters and story.

So many of you expected this series to hold your hand and dumb everything down so you can understand it. But when it wasn't the case, you all started rioting and calling the characters vague, the plot bad, and the ships underdeveloped.

The amount of people who value spoken text more than the actions of the characters is worrying. And more worrying than that is the amount of those who interpret the said actions so superficially. I can't believe it needs to be explained that it wasn't Vi's death that led to the "good" timeline, but the lack of hextech. The result would have been the same if either of them had died. It wasn't about Vi, but about the child that died because of dangerous technology and that therefore that technology must not be used. The mischaracterization of Vi in general is insane. Call me biased and unfair, but the moment I hear you don't like her I will assume you didn't understand the show.

Also, the whole discourse around Caitvi scene in episode 8 is giving brainsmooth. No, Vi didn't choose Cait over Jinx, quite the opposite. No, Cait didn't plan all of it to fuck Vi. No, Vi didn't do it because she felt forced or because she is a horny animal who doesn't care about her sister. No, them fucking in a cell is not about the class difference, but about the fact that Vi felt an insane rush of emotions after realizing that Cait would let go of her revenge and help Jinx escape, all for her. Yes, I do agree that it would be nice if we got a longer conversation between Vi and Caitlyn and it would feel great to hear Cait apologize, but I'll always value actions over words. Her talking to Jinx, recognizing that she is just as bad as her, and choosing to trust Vi that her sister can change, thus letting Jinx escape will always mean more than any verbal apology and I'll die on that hill.

Also, it was Jinx's decision to let go and walk away. It was not about Vi trying to get to Vander, but about Jinx being tired of everything. Even if that fight didn't happen, the result would be the same: Jinx would leave because she knows that Vi couldn't do that. She knew that the two of them couldn't have a normal life together and that Vi would never give up on her. Jinx didn't "die" because Vi pushed her or failed her, but because she loved her too much. Whether you believe that she is dead or that she escaped, it's her decision either way.

Again, I agree that too much happened too quickly, but stop confusing your stupidity and inability to read between the lines with the quality of the series.

Arcane is flawed but still brilliant.

[tinyfantasminha]

I don't want to keep clogging my blog with vent posts but uh... I guess this is a more general concern/observation

But it's getting real hard to stay motivated in fandom spaces when there's little compensation, and annoying occurrences are more frequent than good ones.

Mainly there's been less engagement/people showing interest in creators and their art (such as sending asks, making comments and reblogging with tags) and MORE parasocial interactions. This goes for both artists and writers.

Over this year I've noticed a vast disinterest within my public in general. Asks about ocs, my art, or just nice simple comments of ''I love your art'' has been getting more and more scarce. My follower number is bigger than 2-3 years ago sure and I get more likes on my posts but they are feeling more like just numbers and statistics than actual people who supposedly like my stuff.

And while people being parasocial with creators has always been a thing, I feel like it's gotten way worse... in general? People sending personal pictures out of the blue in hopes of being validated, unwanted psychological advice or assumptions about the creator without any established connection first ( <- these happened to me in the same week.) ventdump, just insensitive/lacking of common sense comments in general, unreasonable demands (mostly with writers)... I wondered at first if it was just me, but a handful of mutuals/acquaintances who are artists and writers seems to be going through it as well.

It's annoying. It's tough. It's getting exhausting. Creators pour so much of themselves into their work—countless hours, effort, and passion, all to share something meaningful or entertaining with others (and for FREE) The LEAST anyone can do is show respect, even if opinions differ. When a writer posts a fanfic, don't just say ''omg post next chapter!'', when an artist posts a drawing of their favorite character, don't just say ''omg draw (character) next!'' as if they're faceless content machines that are expected to churn out more '''content''' for you without acknowledgment, encouragement, or appreciation.

''I want to support creators but I don't know what to say and I feel intimidated by their talent so I just lurk silently :((('' I swear to you, no creator (at least not the majority) is making up an intimidating persona to discourage you from interacting with them. They WANT your comments. A single ''I love your art/writing/videos'' or even something as silly as ''I want to eat your art'' is enough to keep a creator sighing dreamily for WEEKS. It doesn't have to be deep! It's heartfelt and that's what it matters!! (Just remember to keep it relevant and thoughtful... It takes just a bit of common sense NOT to comment things like ''this looks like (another character)'' or ''this but with (another unrelated ship/character/show)''. No one wants to hear comparisons or unrelated ideas when they’ve poured their soul into something.)

In fact, the ''I like your art but I think you're intimidating'' feels more hurtful than flattering. It makes me feel like I'm doing something wrong, acting wrong. 💀

If you love that fanfic that changed your brain psyche forever and want to gush about it, go tell the writer. If you loved so much a piece of art that you saved it a million times in your phone and can't stop thinking about it, go tell the artist. Push away the ''they probably won't care about my comment/it won't make a difference'' thoughts. DO IT NOW. You won't know when they might go inactive forever or deactivate. You can't know if that is the last piece they will ever post. Make sure you show appreciation to creators NOW, while they are still here. While they're still not being replaced by AI.

[noxiatoxia]

I don't know if this is common knowledge, but Komaeda's talent in Japanese is not "Ultimate Lucky Student". It is "Ultimate Good Fortune" (or good luck).

I know the word "lucky" has connotations with being good luck, but "luck" itself seems neutral to me at least.

I think the fact Komaeda is praised for, and has his talent be centered on, his good fortune is a very important nuance. People only see the good that happens to him. People keep telling him what happens to him is "good luck". His parents dying and getting kidnapped end up being called "good luck" in the end. I think this reinforces his pattern of thought more than people just saying he has extraordinary luck (good and bad). It's a minor difference, but it adds a lot. I have been thinking about this for a little bit now.

Because of the fact it is good luck specifically, I wanted to find parts where Komaeda specifically talks about bad luck. Lines such as "my awful luck/dreadful luck..." doesn't make much sense in the context of his Japanese talent. It made me wonder if those English lines even existed or if it was a "Luke, I am your father" situation. I don't have either the English or Japanese script memorized.

I checked the Freetime Events because of this, and found an interesting thing. There's a number of mistranslations, or simply translation choices I don't really agree with.

The freetime events heavily misrepresent how often Komaeda uses the word "luck". He uses both 不幸 and 不運 an equal amount I'd say. Maybe the former more. The former means "misery" "sorrow" or "misfortune". The latter means "bad luck" or "ill-fortune".

Likewise, 幸運 means good luck, but it also means good fortune. It's the word used in his talent as I described above.

Now, that's not to say I think Komaeda's "talent" should not be referred to as luck, nor am I saying he should never use the word luck. I think good and bad luck is a perfectly apt English word to describe his experiences. I just think the English translation overuses it. It wouldn't have killed them to make him say "isn't that just awful" or "what a tragedy, right?" instead of "isn't that such bad luck?" every conceivable moment. Maybe I'm just nit picky.

Now, onto the free time events. I want to talk about them.

I'll be talking about them in order as they appear. Also, I am only going to talk about the 3rd event onward, after Komaeda's chapter 1 reveal.

Freetime event 3

A minor nitpick, but "friends" is not the word I'd use here. It's true you can translate it that way, but considering everything else about Komaeda, at this point in the game, he wouldn't readily call Hinata his friend. Especially considering the connotations that holds for him.

That's precisely likely why he, in fact, doesn't say "friend" in the Japanese text. He uses 仲間 which like I said, while can and does translate as friend when used in that way, it just means people of a common thread. Like, a group, I guess.

My TL:

Because we both share the common goal of seeking out hope!

Freetime event 4

This is a really bad translation IMO. Hope is never said once in the original dialogue. I don't know why they put it there.

My TL:

Hinata: It's pretty ironic that you got wrapped up in this shitshow considering your "Ultimate Good Luck". Komaeda: It's not ironic at all! This is no doubt just the beginning of the good things to come my way! Komaeda: Um, let's just say the "good luck" I was born with is a little less straightforward [than the name would suggest]... Komaeda: once this is all over, I'll be rewarded with good fortune of the highest caliber.

And though this next one isn't much of a "mistranslation", I want to offer an alternative translation that highlights my criticism of "overusing the words good/bad luck".

My TL:

Komaeda: The greater the misfortune I experience before hand...the greater the good that comes my way afterwards! It completely cancels out everything before it!

Freetime event 5

I sadly cannot find in-game pictures of this since it's one of the wrong dialogue choices, so here's the script file text for it instead (sorry)

I remembered this line in English specifically because I always thought it sounded weird for Komaeda to say - "It's rare to hear you give such a half-assed answer".

While not a mistranslation totally, I think the tone is a bit off.

I would write it more as, "Ah ha ha! That's quite the answer, Hinata-kun!"

It literally translates as "for Hinata-kun, that is a very suitable answer!" but it's clearly supposed to be teasing/sarcastic. So he means to say "oh, wow, Hinata-kun, you're answering with that?" but in a lighthearted tone.

Freetime event 6

Almost didn't include this because it's the mistranslation we all know and hate, but it's worth mentioning in case people don't know.

My TL:

Please, just one last thing...don't ever forget...that from the bottom of my heart, I love y...I love your hope that sleep dormant inside you.

Though he does just say "please, don't forget", he uses どうか which is a pretty polite turn of phrase for Komaeda. It also is a way to emphasize a request, as in please do this to the benefit of me.

He backtracks pretty heavily. The verb comes at the end in Japanese sentences, so giving an exact one-to-one would be hard, but I'll try to explain it.

ボクはキミを... キミの中に眠る希望を心から愛していると。

Boku wa Kimi wo... Kimi no naka ni nemuru kibou wo koko kara aishiteiru to.

の/no = possessive. Such as, "Lucy's cat" "David's car".

を/wo = verb particle. There's no real English equivalent but you use it to signify some verb is being done onto something. Such as, "I kicked the ball" ("ball wo kick") or "I pet the cat" ("cat wo pet").

は/wa = topic particle. Commonly translates as "is/am" but that is NOT what it means. It just signifies everything that comes after it relates back to what comes before it. It's most accurate to think it as "as for the topic of..." Such as, "my damaged car wa had to go into the repair shop." After wa, "had to go into the repair shop", you ask, "what had to go into the repair shop?" you can find the answer in the topic, which is before wa: my damaged car. (or... me no damaged car.)

So, with this knowledge, let's break down the sentence.

Boku = I/me.

Kimi = you.

So this would make Boku wa Kimi wo in it's most literal form: as for the topic of me (aka, speaking for me), I, onto you...

Then he trails off. wo becomes no.

I, onto your hope sleeping inside of you...

and then we return to wo:

from the bottom of (one's) heart, love [the hope sleeping inside of you].

One could easily see it as Komaeda quickly changing the wo to no to add extra steps to not make the confession so head-on. Because if we remove everything after no and just continue where the wo leaves off, we get:

Boku wa Kimi wo koko kara aishiteiru to.

As for me, I, from the bottom of my heart, love you.

Now...one could also read it as him not backtracking, but adding. Saying I love you and the hope that lies dormant within you. Both are equally plausible. Listening to the audio it can go either way, but the way he quickly and softly drops off when he gets to the first wo makes me feel like it's a backtrack. Or maybe the background music is just too loud haha.

Well, that's all I got for now.

[grimdarling69]

Can I ask for part 9 of deaged dan and ellie please?🥹

Tbh I've been rereading it a lot and I'm excited to read what the batfam and jl reactions while going to where Damian and Dick is. I knowww that it's going to be a crazy ride especially with youngblood(is it really Youngblood? Or not?)

A large toxic blob incased the window on the door. Swirling and jumping individual blob ghosts. They cooed excitedly and pushed against the locked door in vain.

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" He finally reached the door and opened it in a practiced manner of hiding behind and ducking. The swarm of blobs rushed past him into the den.

"Calm yourselves one at a time." Damian spoke to them as he walked hesitantly-not fearfully, Damian-back into the room. They swarmed around his head and chittered in a weirdly familiar language. He couldn't understand the language, but he recognized it? He was gaining ecto if he could recognize ghost dialect. He couldn't let Damian know he'd blame himself if he thought he put him in danger by letting him stay in the Realms. He couldn't leave him alone and was scared while he went through this. Damian needed him just as much as he needed him.

"You must have made a mistake. There's absolutely no way she would betray me. She's-this can't be happening." He muttered the last part and pushed through the blobs around him. He went to the table. Frostbite dropped files yesterday as something to do while the storm passes. He hadn't realized the weather would follow them to death. Apparently, in some 'biomes' in the Realms, it has weather but not the same it's all different. All at different times and patterns. The weather couldn't hurt ghosts, but it could hurt buildings and structures. Their cabin, luckily, was on the side of the island that the storm didn't reach, so they were told to stay put. He had gotten frostbite to give them paperwork so that he could convince Damian to do that instead of attempting to injure himself or the cores. It kind of worked he only had to chase him a few times.

"What's happening, Damian? What did they say?" He questioned, keeping in an eye in the weirdly calm swarm landing on the couch next to him. He captured his sons hands so he couldn't pull his hair out like he tended to do now. Damian face was covered in worry, fear, and maybe some regret.

"A group of heroes, including some of the founders of the Justice League and Constantine, are being transported by Pandora and Youngblood." He winced and glanced outside the window like he could see their ship.

"Bruce?" "And Todd, Drake, Brown, and Thomas."

"Shit. Well, we just have to explain to them what you told me, and they'll back off. Jason will be more than happy to knock Bruce into his senses if he doesn't. "

"I don't want them to know about this, about me-or them..."

"Damian, come on, they'd have had to at least know about the babies eventually. When you came home even-if you came to...live with me." Damian glanced around nervously, never meeting his eyes. Oh my god.

"But you never planned on returning, did you? You were going to let us think you committed suicide without any sign at all. Right? That was your plan to-to make us think we lost you!" He was yelling, and a distant voice told him he needed to calm down, but he really couldn't care less right now.

"I- didn't mean to make you think -" Damian was tearing up. He thinks absently that he's seen damian cry more these past few months than the past four years he's known him.

"I was going to follow you!" Damian seemed like he wanted to say something, but he needed to get his point across. He took a deep breath.

"When I got to the bridge, I was-in hysterics. I couldn't help but imagine you in the-the water. Hurt scared in pain, knocked around in the water-er. I thought you could have cracked your head open or just anything, and I had to-to save you! I just thought if i could follow you over that bridge...i could save you. " it was hard to see through the bluryness, but damian was the only thing he needed to see anyway.

"You would have been killed too..."

"I know."

"So why...?"

"Because you matter more to me than anything. You are my son, and you are Bruce's son, and you are Talias son."

"I-..."

"Let me finish. If Bruce didn't want you, you would have never been in the manor. It is impossible to make Bruce do something he truly doesn't want to do. You are a member of this crazy ass family because we want you. Bruce wants you. I want you. So don't push us away, please. "

"I just-i never doubted you!" It's always been bruce.

"Or any of the others, it's only Bruce, why?" He's afraid of his reaction most of all, like he knows something about him Dick doesn't.

"I told you about Jack Fenton, right? Well, before he sacrificed himself, he was cutting me open. As I screamed and cried and begged him to stop. That i was alive that I was his son didn't matter. What did matter was vlad. Jazz-you maybe called him begged him to save you. He told them-my mom all about ghosts about himself, and that stopped him. He said sorry to vlad instead of sorry to the son lying open and organs strewn across the room on the table. It was you who rushed forward and helped me. You who was always on my side so I can never doubt you but Bruce...I've had my share of father's and they haven't always been the best."

"He tries-"

"Sometimes trying isn't enough. But I trust you so...I'll give him a chance. I want to live with you but maybe we'll visit him."

"That's all I'm asking, baby bat." Maybe everything will be fine. Damian will see that Bruce isn't Jack, and everything will be fine. He goes to put his hand comfortingly on his shoulder but damian bypasses him and grabs him tight around the waist, burying his head into dicks clothes. Gripping him so tightly it hurts but he doesn't complain much too happy just hold his son. He grips him as tightly as he dares and rests his head on Damian.

"Richard."

"What, dami?" He turned his cheek from where he placed it on damians head so he could hear better.

"I think the babies are coming..." he pulls away suddenly to look at him, and sure enough, his stomach is glowing so bright his shirt is see-through. Damians face is pulled into an expression of wonder and fear. Shit shit shit. They'd thought we would have more time.

"I'll get frostbite. Just sit down." He helps him to the couch, and after making sure he knows to control his breathing, he runs out of the cabin to Frostbites. Luckily, he wasn't actually in human labor, but it was still extremely painful because of the fact that damian isn't a full ghost. Typically, it was more like a budding reproduction that plants do. A ghost and a ghostling go intangible and divide from each other. Frostbite believes damian will be strong enough for that to happen if they use ecto-dejecto+. Something he modified from the Fentons. He is extremely worried about this, as you could guess. He trusts Frostbite. He's like a large frosty and very intelligent retriever, but he's worried about the side effects of after rather than the immediate. They have no other idea it's this or nothing. Frostbite had said if the kids couldn't get out on their own, he would have to... cut them out. Ecto-dejecto+ it is!

"Frostbite! Frostbite!" He slammed into the large door and banged on it. It was probably unlocked like always, but this was faster. "Is it time?" He hears the resounding yell at foot from the door, and he flips backward so he doesn't get knocked out again.

"Yes! Obviously!" He turns back around and runs back to the cabin. He ignores frostbites yelling about getting his tools.

By the time he gets back, damian isn't on the couch anymore.

"Damian! Damian, where are you?" He's searching wildly around the room throwing things around. It had only taken him 6 minutes to get here and back. Please don't him have...have...

"In here!" Damian! From his old bedroom? Frostbite and him had been working in changing it into a temporary nursery just in case. Had Damian already...?

"Damian..?" He pushed open the door slowly.

"Shh, look!" Damian was smiling freely for the first time in a while. Completely free of the pain from just a few minutes ago. He was holding a baby, and another rested in a blue banket on the bed pushed against the wall, eyes darting around. Damian held another in a pink blanket in his arms, standing in the center. The baby's face was red, and tears steamed down its cheeks, but it wasn't actively crying.

"She just stopped crying. Here Ellie meet your..." he trailed off handing the baby over to him waiting for him to decide what he wanted to be called. They hadn't talked about it...

He couldn't help but tear up seeing the little baby. It didn't look like a newborn but maybe a month or 2 old. Still very young but bypassing the actual infant stage.

"Aren't they beautiful...What do you want to be called?" Damian picked up Dante and rocked him around the baby stared into space. The baby smiled so definitely more than a month. From the books he read it took about 6 or so weeks to smile actually smile instead of just gas.

"I don't know. Didn't think that far ahead." He took the corner of the blanket and gently wiped away the drying tears on her face.

"Im here! Great one! Princess!" Frostbite took forever seriously. And he was ignoring the title everyone insisted on using for him. They had offered to change it to Prince, but then it just felt too real? When he's called princess, it's funnier, less real, and like a joke, not like he's a literal prince of the literal fabric of the universe.

He pushed open the door and signaled to Frostbite standing in the broken doorway with his finger on his lips a classic be quiet sign he's sure ghosts would understand.

"Oh, well, I suppose we were worrying for nothing." Frostbite said once he finally got over the surprise. He was leaning over his shoulder or entire body technically from how large he was to peer at the baby girl. It was quite comical when he reached out a finger seemingly mesmerized at Ellies tiny little hand barely wrapped around half the finger when she grabbed it.

"Oh, I just love younglings. It has been centuries since I've seen such young neverborns. Though I believe it is just their human half influencing their age." The giant yeti seemed perfectly content to be trapped by the small hand.

"Do you think they'll ever gain their memories back?" Damian was sitting in the hand-carved rocking chair with ice and star designs all over it. He still held Dante in his arms. The baby simply watched its surroundings.

"I don't believe so but their cores personality should be similar and they might have a sense of deja vu sometimes but the amount of damage to their cores...I don't believe they will ever fully gain anything back." The yeti provided his much needed wisdom. "This is a new opportunity for them and you would be wise not to waste it, great one."

"I know, I won't its just i will miss them." Damian stared into his sons eyes not looking up at them.

"I know it is of no reconciliation, but...I will as well." Frostbite gently unraveled his claw from the baby and gathered his supplies. Leaving behind the ecto-dejecos without a word.

"You never answered me earlier about what you want to be called..." Damian said absent mindly in tone but completely focused on him.

"I did not realize it was such a big deal to you." Dick did. If he took up the uncle mantle, it would solidify the fact they were only brothers, but if he took up the grandfather title, Bruce and Alfred would be left out. He knew what he wanted, but bruce...its not he thinks Bruce will be furious or something at him it's more the quiet disappointment or regret he's worried about. Bruce was easy to anger but hard to disappoint, and every time he saw that look on his face...Bruce could also be a very jealous man.

"I thought about it what they'll call you guys. Alfred will be pops or grandpa. Bruce can have gramps. And you...can be papa..?" He can recognize the hopeful phrasing in his voice.

"I..thought Papa was for dads..." it's not a question really more like a dazed statement, but damian treats it like it is anyway.

"Not in the Midwest where I first came from. I used to call my grandparents, gama and Papa, when I was younger in that life. Before they died, we would drive for hours every holiday or on long weekends to see them." It was weird to hear him reminiscence about another life. Ellie gurgled, and he glanced down at the wiggly baby. Her fingers were in her mouths, and her eyes were locked with him. For the first time, he feels himself really look at her like a haze was lifted from his eyes. She had a tuft of dark brown hair almost black, her eyes were a startling unrecognizable hazel, her skin was slightly tan but barely like it was only just beginning to change. She had curious eyes and wild extremities like she wanted to get up and touch everything. She had a tiny brown mole beside her nose on her cheek-right in a crevice-a little above her mouth.

"It must have been nice."

"Yeah, it was." It wasn't an awkward silence but a quiet one just holding the babies he glanced over at Damian and saw Dante was asleep. Ellie was just about to fall asleep. Sh kept closing and opening her eyes at weird times.

He locked eyes with Damian and motioned toward the cribs. They were pushed against the wall between a dresser it was obvious the room wasn't even half finished.

The large bed shoved out the way, the pushed out of the way rocking chair and cribs the only sign of a nursery. The various other pieces of furniture were mismatched and aged.

He rocked Ellie, hoping to get her tired enough. He spied Damian, setting Dante down slowly in his crib. He made his way over to the cribs as well, just as Damian was reswaddling Dante. If his age assessment was correct, they'd stop that soon, but for now. Dante stayed fast asleep. He set Ellie down and attempted to fix her swaddling. He hoped he wouldn't fully wake her by messing with it. Luckily, she seemed to get the memo and fell asleep quickly. They turned back toward eachother he let out a relieved sigh and watched as Damian said goodnight to the babies and left the room looking back every step. He took one final glance at them and closed the door softly.

"What are we going to use for a baby moniter? Could Tucker have something we could use?" How would they even connect it? Tucker had said they had once tried internet in the realms but it would just explode randomly.

"No need. We're bonded, I feel their emotions." Ghost bonds at it again.

"Really? What are they feeling?" He needed to know if they liked him of course.

Damian hummed and answered thoughtfully " Loved, happy, content."

"Good."

"There is a...meeting soon between the leaders. It's an annual diplomatic meeting to discuss mostly trade and news. Tucker will be announcing the children as heirs to the Realms and..." Damian trailed off but it was obvious what he was going to say. Me.

"I thought you would be discussing the future when your older...?"

"We will discuss if i succeed him as he succeeded me once before. Tucker has done great work as king, and he enjoys it more than I do. The ancients will disagree they didn't like the fact I named him and sam as my heirs in the first place. The way to calm them is to act like I will succeed until we find a better plan."

"Right. Sam... Do you think she is also back in our world? Tucker became a ghost, but he told me that both you and Sam disappeared around the same time. What if she was reincarnated as well?" Damian listened intently but didn't speak just thinking. Damian didn't seem to have thought about it before and was now trying to think of he knew her.

"I already thought of that, and I already found her-him him, actually." Tucker walked through the door unburdened by it. He was dressed casually with a faded yellow sweater and a patched beanie on his head. You would never expect him to be a king. He still looked like young, not high school, but college for sure.

"Him? Who? Did you contact them?" Dick scoured his brain trying to think of anyone matching Sams personality.

"You already know him actually. He's on his way now." Tucker continued motioning toward the nursery door.

"Be quiet. They're sleeping, but how did you contact them?" Damian whispered loudly. Tucker peeked into the bedroom.

"So cute! I might just start up my babysitting gig up again. You're first on the list, of course, best friend privileges!" Tucker gleefully spoke, voice lower but excited.

"Absolutely not! Do you remember what happened at your last babysitting gig?" Damian pulled the door shut softly in a joking but final manor. Tucker scoffed and indignantly argued, "That wasn't even my fault! It was my mom's! She's the one who baked them!"

"Your mom baked babies...?" They both turned and looked at him confused before breaking out into hysteric laughter. A laughter so contagious he could barely stand up right.

"She didn't actually bake any kids, right?" He finally asked once he caught his breath, sparking another violent outburst of laughter.

----------

BOOM

"YES! DO IT AGAIN! DO IT AGAIN!" Green Lantern yelled out at Captain Yungblood, who stood at a cannon throwing cannonballs at floating puple rocks. When it hit them, fireworks sparked and went everywhere in a mixture of purple, green, and white. Flash senior looked around nervously, trying to stop then both before the big bat heard and yelled at them.

He kinda felt bad for the guy. Jason so deserves a cigarette for empathy. He scrouges around his jacket and pockets empty handed he searches around the floor, growing increasingly agitated. He knows he just had them, Jason just shared with John just a few minutes ago! He looked around accusingly. One of the brats must have stolen it. Green reared it's head begging him to teach the thief a lesson.

He latches his eyes on Tim just as he throws them into the sky to get blown to bits by the idiots. They don't even notice the extra fuel.

"Asshole!" Green clouded his vision as he stomped over to him and picked him up by his suit straps.

"It was for your own good!" He felt the green roar and rage behind his eyes. He could barely see past it, and weird purple haze around them made things even worse.

"Fuck you! And your do goody pretentious attitude!" He threw him at the ships cabin hitting the wood and shaking the whole ship. He felt eyes on him but he didn't care, Red Robin unleashed the bostaff and knocked his legs out form under him in one motion

"Red Hood! Stand down." Batman called from the top of the cabin shadows dampen the greens as his cape billows around him after he jumped down.

"Don't you dare tell me what to do!" He turned the green on his father, throwing a punch Batman barely managed to dodge.

"Jason -" Bruce grabbed his arms and wrapped himself around him, locking him in. He struggles wildly he's vaguely aware of Steph and Duke picking Tim up from the floor. Tim limps away, glaring at the other heros, they scattered into the corners of the ship, suddenly desperate to not be on the deck. God, what's wrong with him... he'd promised he'd never hurt his family again...this was a mistake he should have stayed behind in Gotham. Jason stopped fighting and let go, forcing his dad to follow him to the floor.

"Rough one, aren't you?" Pandora asks the tall alien looking amazon leers over them both. He wasn't a child, but his face reddens at the blatant condescension and scolding.

"We apologize if we interrupted anything." Bruce answers instead, saving him the embarrassment. "Not at all. It's good you're finally getting help here then."

"I'm afraid I don't follow?" Will any of these stupid fucking spirits just have a straight answer for just one question.

"Your liminalty? I can sense the ectoplasm on you it feels...like unsealed wine..." Pandora wrinkled her face as if she was imagining it. "Liminality?" He couldn't help but question out loud. "Ectoplasm? It's the...green goo, right?" Could the...pits actually just be ectoplasm? Wouldn't Constantine have, like, i don't know, exercised them??

Pandora groaned at his rambling and shook her head as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You should meet the chief. He'll fix you." With that sentence repeated in the same ever grave tone the giant warrior left. He turned to bruce, but he was only met with his stone cold thoughts he left without meeting his eyes, and Jason couldn't help but remember how many times he's heard 'i can fix you.' It made him nauseous. Before he could realise it he was standing on the open deck with only the purple and green smog surrounding him God fucking dammit.

A/n really sorry for how long it took to get this out i know most of the posts on this story are taking forever and I'm sorry about that I'm not discontinuing the story but I've had some major writers block lately and I've been trying to cure it by writing other stories but I've just been hating how all them turned out lately. I've been trying to write some captain marvel golden age i just feel like I'm missing parts of Billy and I just hate it so if anyone has some tips for writing him particularly please share otherwise hope yall enjoyed this part snd happy holidays to everyone!!

[psychoticallykind]

He Was Learning

"Thankful" - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 1,439 words

--------------------------------------------------------------

To be fair, Regulus had never claimed to be good at communication.

In fact, the only thing he had clearly communicated so far was that he was terrible at communicating. But James seemed to have an abundance of communication skills, of which Regulus was equally intimidated, irritated, and thankful. James had told him that it was alright, and they could learn together.

But now, when Regulus was snapping and overwhelmed and glaring at his boyfriend, it seemed a lot less alright. Regulus was half-convinced that James was about to break up with him, and that fear made everything more intense.

"If you don't want me there, then you can just say it. You don't have to make up some stupid story!" Regulus accused.

"I'm not -" James broke off and took a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was calmer. "Reg, love, I'm not making up a story. I would love for you to be there, I just said that you don't have to go if you don't want to."

"You said, 'I know you don't like these types of things, you don't have to come with me tonight'," Regulus crossed his arms. "Which is just another way to say 'I don't want you there, but I don't want to say that because it'll hurt your feelings'."

James shook his head with a helpless look. "Why would it mean that? Why wouldn't I want you to come with me? That doesn't make any sense."

"It makes perfect sense," Regulus argued. "And I already know it, so don't try to make me feel stupid or paranoid here! I know what you're thinking!" He wrapped his arms tighter around himself, blinking back tears. "I know I'm not sociable or friendly or nice to people. I know I'm awkward and they don't like me and then you have to spend the whole night telling people to be nice and that I'm 'not really like that', but I am! I am like that, I'm like this, and I'm sorry it's so terrible that you don't want me around your friends anymore!"

The tears were a lost cause. He elected to close his eyes, chest heaving as he tried not to fall apart any more than he already was.

He'd been thinking about this all day. That stupid conversation James had with Sirius - 'Regulus won't have any fun, he'll be too busy judging everyone else.' 'No, he's not like that.'

But he was like that. He was sarcastic and judgmental and he didn't like people, especially dumb people who had too much to drink and couldn't remember what personal space meant.

James hadn't even invited him this time. Regulus wouldn't have known anything about the party if Sirius hadn't brought it up. Because James hadn't invited him.

"Can I touch you?"

Eyes still closed, Regulus tensed at the question. But since James was James, and Regulus always felt safe with James, he nodded.

Soon there were warm hands on his face, gently wiping at the tears. "Do you think you can look at me, please?"

Regulus blinked his eyes open, took one look at the compassion on his boyfriend's face, got overwhelmed, and shut them again. "No."

There was a soft laugh. "Alright." The hands traveled down to his arms and gently urged them apart so that his hands were held in James's. "Regulus. I know that you're not sociable or outgoing. There is nothing wrong with that. There is nothing wrong with you, and if I thought for one second that you would want to go to the party or that you would enjoy it, I would have brought it up."

Regulus pressed his lips together in an attempt to not cry anymore. He managed to nod, but didn't trust his voice enough to speak.

"I like you. I know you. I'm not hoping or expecting you to be anything other than what you are," James said. Sincere, always so sincere.

Another nod.

Regulus stepped back, managing to open his eyes and glance at James as he forced his composure into place. "Thank you. I understand, I was just - I don't know what I was." He found a wall to stare at and focused on keeping his tone even. "It was thoughtful, James, thank you."

James was being so sweet, he was being ridiculous, and he needed to pull it together before James really did break up with him. "You should probably get ready to go, though. It's almost nine."

"Regulus."

"I'll just see you tomorrow -"

"Regulus." James stepped in front of him. "I'm not going to the party."

Regulus stared at him. "What?"

"I'm not going," James repeated. He watched Regulus's expression carefully for a few seconds. "Is that why you're upset? You thought I was going without you?"

The question made something hurt in his chest. "No." Regulus shrugged, looking away. "I don't care what you do." He turned away again. "In fact, I want you to go. Take a break from my horrible compan- James!"

His eyes widened as he was spun around, and suddenly he was faced with dark curls and compassion and hazel eyes he'd grown so fond of.

James offered him an apologetic smile. "Sorry, love, but if you shut down on me now you'll be miserable all week."

"I'm not," Regulus lied. "Because I don't care about this stupid party, and I don't care about you all that much, either."

The words were too sharp, too cold. Worse than he'd intended.

But James didn't flinch. "Well, I care about you. So take a deep breath for me."

Regulus rolled his eyes, but he did take a deep breath.

"Thank you." James ran his hands up and down Regulus's arms, adding grounding pressure. "Now let's say that hypothetically, you did care about me. And you maybe cared about the party."

"I wouldn't care about the party," Regulus grumbled.

"Okay," his boyfriend nodded. "Let's say that you cared about me going without you, then. How would you feel about that?"

Oh, he hated that. Feelings. Emotions.

"Hypothetically?" He checked. When James nodded, he shrugged, looking away. "I don't know. Bad, maybe."

James didn't say anything. He didn't need to - they'd done this a few times, and Regulus knew what that look meant.

What kind of bad? Can you tell me about it?

"I hate you," he informed James.

James smiled a little. "I can work with that."

"Hmph." Regulus shrugged again. "I don't know. Just bad. Bad like anyone would feel, I guess. No one likes being left behind."

"Is that what it felt like?" James asked gently. "Like I was leaving you behind?"

Regulus flinched, biting his lip with enough force to almost split the skin in an attempt to stop the tears from falling. "No."

Left behind.

Left.

He'd been so scared.

"Oh, love." James pulled him forward as he lost the battle, and he melted into the hug, sobbing quietly into James's shoulder as James rocked them back and forth. "I'm not leaving. I didn't mean to keep the party from you, I just didn't think about it. I wasn't planning on going, we've both had a long week and I knew you wanted a quiet night tonight. You're always wanted, Regulus. I always want you."

It took a while for Regulus to calm down enough to speak. He kept his arms wrapped around James and his head tucked down, breathing in eucalyptus and coconut from the hair potion he'd given James last week. "I don't hate you."

"Well, that's good," James mumbled. He didn't let go, and Regulus was grateful. He wasn't fully together yet, and if James stopped holding him together, he'd probably start crying again. "At this point, I'd hope that maybe you're a little fond of me, yeah?"

Regulus nodded into the fabric. "Maybe."

James laughed, bright and warm. "I'll take it."

Some more deep breaths. Steady rocking. Warmth and steadiness and the red fabric of James's t-shirt. "Do you think I judge everyone?"

"I absolutely do," James confirmed. "And I love listening to you talk about everyone. You're funny and observant and you're right pretty much every time you make a prediction about someone. I adore you, and I love that I get to hear all of your thoughts on the people around us."

"Even the mean ones?" Regulus had to check.

"Even the mean ones."

Regulus thought that over for a bit. "Okay."

James pulled back a little to look at him. "Yeah?"

Regulus nodded, giving James a small but genuine smile. "Yeah."

He didn't have any good communication skills. But he was learning.

Slowly, he was learning.

[brionysea]

Is it just me or did Vi really not get an arc this season 😭? She doesn’t resolve the fact that she places all her worth on protecting those she loves. A lot of her big emotional beats (joining the enforcers, becoming a pit fighter, finding Vander, freeing Jinx and getting imprisoned for all her efforts) happened as a result of Caitlyn or Jinx’s intervention. She has so much oldest sister syndrome she infected the narrative 😇

yes! I think it's an issue of flawed ideas and poor execution. in classic me fashion, I'll go through the whole thing to show you what I mean:

vi joining the enforcers despite everything they've done to her (killing her parents, roughing up her family as kids, chasing them down, coming into the last drop to arrest them and intimidating everyone and almost taking powder, imprisoning and abusing and starving vi for her entire adolescence) because caitlyn asked her to and caitlyn is the Most Important Person in her life right now is the exact kind of thing vi would do. I personally love how temporary the enforcer gig is, despite that going against the lore (I honestly couldn't care less), because vi's CHARACTER in this show goes against the lore. I don't care that she's supposed to be an enforcer in the game. I'm not playing a game. I'm watching a show. the vi I know wouldn't do that, it makes no sense for her character, and it really feels like that's the point. she's losing herself for the sake of what caitlyn wants in a very clever way to address whoever demanded the show be more accurate to the game (which, again, I AM NOT PLAYING. BECAUSE THIS IS A SHOW THAT'S MORE THAN CAPABLE OF STANDING ON ITS OWN) without betraying the characters. this is the kind of freedom that would have made for a truly stellar season: going where the story is led naturally by its characters rather than being trapped by a pre-determined narrative

then in vi's fight with jinx (which, fine, I guess vi *would* decide that 'jinx isn't powder anymore' means 'my sister is dead'; she's single minded like that, even if it felt rushed), there's suddenly a random child in the crossfire and vi's like oh. okay. I can't actually hurt innocent children the way I was hurt. I do, in fact, have principles, and they dictate that I intervene rather than allow this to play out. and it turns out that when the chips are down caitlyn doesn't actually care about the undercity because she risked killing an innocent child and wants to kill jinx knowing she's vi's sister (and said that jinx, a young mentally ill girl from the undercity, killing caitlyn's mother, one of the richest and most powerful women in piltover, is the same as vi's parents being killed by enforcers while fighting to end the oppressive social order they enforce. it's not.) and basically says that she thought vi was 'one of the good ones' but she's exactly like all those other animals (again, because vi refused to let cait open fire on a child), before literally gut-punching her and leaving her there. vi was right before, they're oil and water, they're too different. and now vi's lost her sister; lost cait; the rest of her family is still dead. she has no money. no power. nowhere to go. nobody to protect. what's even the point of her?

and then we reach the second act. vi has no purpose so she's like well I'm just gonna fight people for money. because she'll win. obviously. she's a mess, she's drinking all the time, she's seeing jinx and caitlyn everywhere (people really breeze over how vi sees things too - definitely to a lesser degree than jinx, but when she hits rock bottom, it's there). I love this set up for vi. it makes so much sense that putting all her energy into caring for others would end up here. like a message from the universe that she needs to learn to do things for herself or she'll always end up back in this hole. you could argue that vi not having a lot of agency and just following jinx or caitlyn around until she ends up stuck in that cell (her ✨️ prison of the mind ✨️ or whatever jinx's imaginary, out of character, ghost silco was talking about), while boring (so boring), is more of vi being stubborn and stuck in her ways and refusing to learn her lesson until she's forced to. which she was also like in season 1, except there, it was more like vi repeatedly trying to solve problems that were much too big to be punched away by punching them (vi thought jinx could brute force her way out of being traumatised), and even then, I didn't get the impression that vi cared enough about the council to actually give up on jinx because of what she did to them. vi's a brick wall of a woman. sometimes, in this bitch of a world, stubbornness is a virtue

the problem, like a lot of things that had potential in season 2, is that it's not actually followed through on. there's no self actualisation for vi. she just cares about jinx until she doesn't and then she has sex with cait (who does not actually atone for any of the shit she did btw) in the prison cell where vi's sister was just planning suicide and is currently going through with it elsewhere, as far as vi knows

I think the intention was for vi having sex with cait instead of chasing after jinx to be the first selfish thing in her life (which jinx basically told her to do, because no one hates piltover anymore even though they haven't changed at all or done anything to earn this 'meet us halfway' demand of feeling entitled to zaun's bodies for their war after poisoning those same bodies for who knows how long. jinx never called vi an idiot for dating an enforcer. in fact, she feels bad for nuking the council :( which means she's good now! 👍 because GOOD characters are NICE to piltover and only BIG MEANIES care about zaun's independence. even silco's ghost thinks it's a waste of time! apparently he was just bitter and unloved, like a child throwing a tantrum! sure. sure! why not!), but it falls apart immediately because 1) jinx told vi she's going to kill herself (vi knew what jinx was planning before she asked, you can hear the fear in her voice), which obviously takes priority - never in a million years would vi let jinx disappear like that without doing anything about it, no matter how self actualised she is, because STOPPING YOUR SISTER FROM COMMITTING SUICIDE IS A NORMAL THING TO DO. well, maybe not normal, but you know what I mean. it's not exclusively a vi-ism. it's common sense. if someone you love tells you they're going to commit suicide, you do everything in your power to prevent it. and 2) CAIT IS NOT ACTUALLY REDEEMED FROM ALL THE SHIT SHE DID TO THE UNDERCITY. yes, cait letting jinx escape was symbolic of her letting go of the obsession that drove her to that point, but she didn't actually hurt jinx (except now jinx is free to off herself because of cait, which vi would be angry about if she hadn't spontaneously forgotten what she learned in the previous scene). despite her personal vendetta, cait couldn't catch jinx to even attempt to hurt her. who she DID hurt was the undercity at large, and she has no way of making up for that. they dropped the zaun plotline like a hot potato so there's no narrative opportunity for cait to prove to vi (and to the audience) that she gets it now. that she's done being a fascist and vi isn't just blinded by her hotness (which would be a strange angle to take but that's honestly what it seems like. it's so shallow and out of place with everything going on). none of this is earned enough for vi to choose a quickie in a cell over stopping her suicidal sister from blowing herself up

TLDR; there was an attempt at an arc, which was foiled by tying it so closely to caitvi, which was tied to the politics of the piltover-zaun conflict, which was never resolved and thus made vi's arc feel unsatisfying

[chicalepidopterareblogs]

You know what. I think this comment is neither about Armand nor Louis being more or less dangerous to Daniel but about Marius de Romanus. This is about someone capable (in terms of power and motivation) of messing with Daniel's memories the same way Daniel had just found out Armand did, only much more powerful.

Using such a blatant omission and ambiguity to refer to a character that has already showed up makes no sense narratively speaking. Besides, Louis is not a danger to Daniel, not anymore after ep 5. It needs to be someone that hasn't appeared yet. Someone so close to Armand that we don't need to hear his own name in order to understand who he is. And who is closer to Armand than Marius? Armand carries Marius' name in his own

Past Devil's Minion only makes sense if we are willing to throw Marius de Romanus into the mix as the one that erased Daniel's memories for the second time and assume that Raglan James knows about it somehow . That's why he would say Marius is the one that Daniel should fear now, instead of Armand. If the Talamasca owns these documents, it makes sense for Raglan James to refer to Marius as "the other one" wrt Armand: he is used to reading their names side by side.

The question now is, how does Raglan James know this much about DM? Well, the Talamasca is a resourceful group of sectret agents but the thing is, this theory is not incompatible with the theory that RJ is actually Marius de Romanus. And Marius is tacky enough to refer to himself in third person I'm just saying

[tykaricnaynarou]

*kicks the door down* All I had to hear was Au Ra, horns, and ear, I feel so strongly about this topic I can't even Starting this with the reminder that this is a fictional world with fictional lore and people should absolutely engage with the content the way they want and interpret or reject canon as much as they want for their blorbos. Be cringe, be wild, be free. NOW ON THAT NOTE HERE'S MY SLIGHTLY RELATED SOAPBOX OF WHAT I DO FOR MY LOVELY AU RA BOY: Canonically, horns = ear but ears have more moving parts than just "ear" generally encompasses. I believe that the horns act the same way as a pinna or shell of an ear. It's just the outside, gathering vibrations and sounds and directing them both with the hollow interior (I'll get to this) and with the shape of the horn. There is NO WAY the ENTIRE hearing organ is the horn. If this were the case then every Xaela ever in every fight ever would be targeting horns cause heavy metal clanging against that would be crippling. Our ears control balance as well as sound processing, a smack with a shield to a horn would completely drop someone. I have a hard time believing a series of Tribes that frequently clash, whose entire ruling body is decided by the annual, violent capture the flag, would unanimously agree that "horns are off limits" and go into battle with the most obvious weak spot ever. I DO believe that the horns are instead less about the interpretation of sounds and act more like an additional sense of spatial awareness. I believe Au Ra have a hearing canal at the base of the ear (this is where they reach when interacting with a link pearl) the same way we as human have a little hole in our head right next to the shell of the ear. They likely "hear" things the same way we as people do which is why they have vocal languages the same as us but in addition probably have a firmer grasp of more sensitive vibrations. The inside of the horn can't be entirely hollow or it's going to be an echo chamber in there and more likely has a sort of mesh like the "hollow" of bird bones to trap vibrations and "focus" them into understanding information about the environment. I think Au Ra as a result are extremely difficult to sneak up on and have incredible battle awareness, which tracks with their cultural predisposition to combat when protecting flocks, defending territory, and other disputes. Never mind the value such an awareness would have dodging predators themselves as Xaela in particular are preyed upon by Matanga, Baras, and other predators. The same way the shell of our ear has feeling, I think their horns do too. Being of a thicker and stronger material they may not be as sensitive but I feel like that boils down to the individual. I know people who have extremely sensitive ears and people with a dozen piercings who didn't feel a thing getting them. The thickness of the horn, the scale pattern, and other factors could weigh into the sensitivity. My boys horns are not particularly sensitive. He has used his horns to block weapons before (it wasn't pleasant and he was a little dazed) but he has enough feeling to enjoy when his partners rub his horns. The sound of gentle rubbing and the feeling of it is soothing for him. The way we casually use the term "ear" in RP/writing/etc, generally refers to just the outside shell, we don't picture the ENTIRE organ when we hear the word "ear" so I think in that sense, yeah horn = ear and for RP purposes that makes sense. I'm with the person who said "to" the horn sounds more natural than "in" the horn when whispering. TL;DR - I just wanted a flimsy excuse to publicly talk about this - Horns are just the outside of the ear, there's an aural canal

Man, how do au ra hear?

Is it lore compliant to say they have ears? Some googling says their ears are their horns. But whispering into someone's horn sounds ridiculous. Or is that how people write it? Lizards do have ears so it's probably not biologically incorrect to say an au ra has ears of some kind. It just feels strange. If you take the more reptile path, whispering into someone's ear hole sounds even less appealing than whispering into a horn.

The fandom had to have discussed this before right? Probably at length. I'm just too new to the fandom to have seen the lore debate. Can an au ra get an earache? Do their horns just hurt? Is it understood that if you say someone is whispering in an au ra's ear, they're murmuring close to like the base of their horns?

[the-whispers-of-death]

I've seen when people write Reader and Ghost as Life and Death, Ghost is always Death while Reader is Life. Which is fine, no hate to them, but imagine with me: Life!Ghost and Death!Reader.

I know it sounds a little out there, but Ghost's entire job as a soldier is to help ensure people in his country are safe. He's fighting for Life.

Also like, who says Life can't kill? If we look into mythology, gods of death don't take people's souls, they just guide the souls to their respective afterlives. If anything, Life is the one guiding the circumstances that kill mortals while Death is the one who guides their souls to their resting places. Life is the one killing them.

And I know someone can say "Oh, but Ghost is gloomy and Life is supposed to sunshiney." Who says? I think both Reader and Ghost can be gloomy people together, in two different ways. Reader just appears out of the shadows, gently taking the dead soul via however they transport souls to afterlives while Ghost is his snarky self.

Imagine, an enemy soldier seeing Ghost corner them in a battlefield and is like "Have you come to take me, Death?"

And Ghost just responds, "I'm Life, actually. They're Death."

And as the enemy soldier turns to face Reader who walks out of the shadows that had encased them, Ghost stabs the enemy soldier. And when they're dead, Reader silently takes them to their designated afterlife.

I don't know if any of this actually made sense to anyone except for me. But if you see the vision, I'm glad.

[gros-chat-fait]

Just six normal teens hanging out in the woods. --

100th post and final drawing of the year. Happy holidays and new year, everyone <3!

[drinkingdeadpeopletea]

it is so so funny to go back and rewatch the zahra and kash episodes of the original stream with their tlovm characterizations fresh in my mind. in tlovm zahra is like "ugh vox machina 🙄🙄 the twins stole my prize 🙄🙄 vex isn't as hot and charming as she thinks 🙄🙄" and in the stream anytime after her literal first episode she's like "hi vox machina 🥰🥰 hi vex 🥰🥰" and they're all like "HI ZAHRA 🥺🥺🥺🥺" and then she's instantly grabbing her staff to help them kill four dragons.

[autumnshowell]

She's not stupid - sometimes she feels like people want to think she is, and even sometimes she buys a bit too hard into her own self-deprecation, but she's spent hours of time over the past six months or more staring at bite marks in the mirror, hiding them from friends and family, and wondering what they were from. Hours out of every day spent rationalizing them away as bruises, of suspecting something - gaps in her memory, memories that don't mesh with others. Of looking at every new face twice, of questioning everybody around her, wondering if she's going insane, knowing she's going insane because what the fuck do you mean, Autumn, that you think you're being haunted by a fucking Vampire?

She's thinking about how she's stopped going to see her therapist because she doesn't know how to convey her fears about this without sounding certifiable. Her eyes search over Aria in the shower, for a really long time; they're both clean, but are they? Will they really ever be? Autumn feels nails digging into her palms and just how stupid she feels versus how vile it is that this is something she's only earning honesty for now. Those nails are digging in, shaking in a fist that she's keeping tucked under her arm, because the waters off and she's getting cold and there's a part of her that wants to scream and shout. The anger snaps her out of this half-catatonia she's been dancing around - suddenly its all questions - she wonders how vampires work - can Aria hear her heart the way Autumn feels it in her ears? She wants to strike out at her, to push her away and run away, but to where? Home? Her empty apartment? Her mother? She doesn't actually want that - Aria's been drinking her blood and making her forget and still she can't stop thinking about how she wants Aria, and Aria is a... this.

Autumn's eyes screw shut and she stands there while the world moves around her - paralyzed by inaction because action is terrifying. There's another sob, an ugly, goofy sounding thing that transforms into a laugh and then back into a sob. Her eyes search to the side, to find Aria from under the towel. "I'm not gonna ask you to tell me why you didn't tell me." She turns to Aria, steps out of the shower, and the towel half-slides off because dignity right now is an afterthought. "I feel insane that this fucking makes sense to me, I feel even more insane that I'm less terrified than I am angry and I feel even fucking crazier that I'm less angry than I am ..." She brings her hands up, fingers curled and shaking, like she's trying to form a word out of imaginary clay, face bunching up in frustration. "I don't know, I feel, what , do I fucking just throw us away because... this is a fucking thing apparently? Act like... what, that I'm afraid of you? Is it fucked up I'm not? I can't even convince myself to be mad at you". Maybe that's part of it - maybe the same reason she doesn't ever remember Aria's teeth in her neck or her shoulder. Her face stones out and she stares down at her feet, at her hands. Pieces of her Aria just scrubbed free of filth and bloody grime. Is she supposed to be terrified of that? Is she broken if she isn't? Bloody fucking rain in a night club, fingers grabbing at her, eyes on her like meat - terror, she'll be thinking about it for who knows how long - but not the way she thinks about Aria.

Autumn's fingertips explore her face, and she can't help the little incredulous laugh as she pulls up her lip to get a better look at one of the fangs. But then she jerks back almost immediately. The first question on her lips isn't really a question at all, but Aria nods all the same.

Her eyes follow the movement, to the spots where she'd bitten Autumn before - the bookstore, the bowling alley. The mark on the meat of her hand is gone, which is a relief. Swallowing, she bites into her lower lip.

"Since - a few months before we met.." She chews on her lip some more. "January. I was turned in January." Wintry, cold on the beach and an alley way later - and here she is, wondering why she couldn't be taken under someone's wing and not left to fend on her own.

Regret is plastered all over her face as she looks down at the scars. "I know this is -- I know it's a lot. I wanted to take you there to tell you about me, show you the world, but I didn't - I didn't think -" She shakes her eyes, tears pricking at the corners of them, as the water beats down around them.

The blood is practically gone down the drain now and her pathetic tears make her realize they shouldn't be having most of this conversation in the shower.

She goes through the motions - turns the shower off, grabs one of the towels and wraps it around Autumn first before grabbing her own. "I'm so sorry."