#I just can't believe it. That it doesn't.

[mayasaura]

I keep coming back to this. Because nothing they do makes any sense, really. And I know people can be weird and irrational and make incredibly strange decisions, but it's their priorities that niggle at me.

None of their methods were geared toward survival or conservation of resources. They never asked Harrow to revive their broken house, and they never do anything to try to save it themselves, but they also didn't ignore Harrow like they'd given up.

They tested her. They measured her. They didn't just care to confirm she was a necromancer; it mattered to them that she was a genius. Her genius, not her life, was the good they had paid for with the future of their house.

Harrow was never born to continue the Ninth. She wasn't just a checkbox ticked "necromantic heir". She was born to be powerful, at the expense of everything the Ninth had to give. At the expense of the Ninth itself. But why? For what purpose? And is it really a coincidence that the day the tombkeepers gave up on the Ninth coincides so closely with the day of Gideon's birth?

Hey, anyone else think it's super duper suspicious that the Reverend Parents kicked off their abominable baby scheme pretty much simultaneously to Gideon Nav, key to the Tomb, landing on the Ninth? Gideon's more than a year but less than two years older than Harrow. So give it nine months gestation, a few months for prep and planning, and Gideon's arrival lands at exactly the place on the timeline you'd look for an inciting event to the creche massacre

And like, the Revs didn't seem shocked when they heard Harrow had opened the Tomb. They listened solemnly to Gideon spill the beans and then quietly shuffled themselves off the mortal coil, intending to take their pint sized single-serving generation with them. As far as we know they never pressured Harrow to continue the Ninth, either. They checked to make sure she was a powerful necromancer, and that was it. It's almost like they'd been waiting for this.

It's just a hell of a lot of coincidences piling up. Makes me wonder what they knew, who they'd been talking to. How much didn't they tell Harrow?

[earthtooz]

because throwing an apple at someone's head was a sign of professing one's love in greek myth.

fluff, gn!reader, i wrote this in a blip

When you told yourself today was the day you confessed to Phainon, you weren't expecting it to turn out like this.

The very ripe, very red, very ready-to-be-consumed apple was not supposed to fly out of your grasp the way it did. It was not supposed to hit him on the head, silencing his laughter as he dumbfoundedly blinks at the item that broke him out of his giddy stupor. It was not supposed to land perfectly in his hands as he glances between your face and your snack, which has now decided to work against you.

You definitely were not supposed to just mutter a meek 'I like you', and you definitely were not supposed to turn on your heel and run away from him!

And why is he chasing after you? Can't he tell you need alone time to recover from the unfortunate series of events that just unfolded?

"Y/n, wait!" He calls, barely sounding out of breath. Your feet hit cement, grass, climb up and down flights of stairs, they don't stop as you dash through every bit of the Grove of Epiphany, all for the sole purpose of shaking Phainon off your tail.

However, it was your mistake for believing someone like him would be willing to give up, and his stamina outpaced yours by a landslide, so just what were you thinking? Running away like that in the spur of the moment?

"No!" You shout back. "Leave me be!"

"But I have something to say to you!"

"I'm sorry for throwing an apple at your head!"

"It's okay! I don't mind- just, stop running!"

"Maybe you should stop chasing me!"

"For Titan's sake-"

As you round a pillar that lead to a short staircase, Phainon had jumped over the ledge and landed by the time you descended the flight, and with a lunge, his hand had securely wrapped itself around your elbow. You had lost. Lost the chase, the fight, your dignity as you gaze up at him, your stomach stirring with unease at his imminent rejection.

There's an unreadable look in his eyes but you don't try deciphering it because you're certain you seem like a mess right now. Your face felt flushed, sweat stuck to your skin, and your hair was all over the place, and worst of all, Phainon was going to reject you while you were in this state.

Titans, please help. This was not what you intended at all.

"You're too fast," he huffs, chest heaving like yours. "You really know how to steal someone's breath away."

"If you're gonna let me down just get to it already."

"Let you down? You think I was chasing you all this way just to let you down?"

"Or were you going to return my apple? It was my afternoon snack-"

"What? No, it's my apple now, you gave it to me!"

"Well, I... threw it at your head-"

"-I accept your confession!" He blurts boldly.

All you can do is splutter out a pathetic 'huh???'.

Phainon is exasperated at this point, desperate to confess the feelings that's been dwelling in his chest for the entire time he's known you. When he's waited this long, he wasn't going to let the moment go, not when you're the one who took the first step, having the nerve to capture his heart and take off bolting with it.

"I like you- a lot! You're everything I've ever wanted and I've waited so long for this, Y/n, please don't make me suffer any longer."

He doesn't blink as he looks at you, as if stubborn to not miss anything about you, not a single micro-change in your expression, the way your breath hitched at his passion, the tweaks of a small smile beginning to pull at your lips.

"Just how am I making you suffer?"

"You tell me the one thing I've been waiting to hear from you and instead of letting me speak, you run away and have me chase you like a Spirithief, does your cruelty know no bounds? Fine, if you're still unsure about my feelings then-"

He takes a big bite out of the apple, the crisp crunch speaking more than it should have to as you blink at his unwavering will.

Phainon's confession settles in the silence, and the first thing you do is laugh in a way that has him almost crumbling to his knees in relief. It was an ode to something beautiful, the start of a new beginning, and as he split your apple in half and handed you the unbitten part, the dull ache on his head finally began to subside.

© EARTHTOOZ 2025, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[cryptotheism]

hey. i can't think of a nice way to ask this. why does so many occult things have hebrew letters that don't spell anything? (see lower tetragrammaton in that post) are they just random hebrew letters or is there some reasoning behind them?

I believe you're referring to this image by (if I recall correctly) Elphias Levi.

A comprehensive explanation would be worthy of a book, but the short answer is: the "western" in western occultism is generally defined as "the intellectual tradition created by the interaction of Judaism and Hellenic philosophy."

Generally speaking, western esoterica has weird hebrew text magic because it is copying Jewish Hebrew text magic, and Judaism has Hebrew text magic because it is copying Islamic Arabic text magic, and Islam has Arabic text magic because they translated a bunch of Greek books that had Greek text magic. And a lot of those Greek books were probably influenced by versions of Judaism that don't exist anymore. And the Jews and the Greeks were both copying the Egyptian text magic who were also copying everyone else in return.

The guy who made this symbol specifically, Elphias Levi, was basically a weeb for Judaism. The 15th-18th centuries had a lot of guys like that. They liked Judaism, some of them even liked Jews, but almost universally they weren't that good at speaking and reading Hebrew. So their takes on the Hebrew text magic involves a lot of mistakes and misspelled Hebrew words. Which is tricky, because the authentic Hebrew text magic also involves a lot of misspelled Hebrew words, but they're misspelled for complicated reasons that rabbis argue about. Elphias Levi was not a rabbi.

But! That also doesn't make this symbol nonsense. There is a logic to the placement of the Hebrew letters, but that logic isn't based solely on Jewish mysticism. It's based on the interpretation of Jewish mysticism through other textual corpses, namely hermeticism and Christianity, or interpreting Jewish mysticism as one of many elements in a broader philosophical environment.

[fatty-lit]

For me it's about the hedonism and lack of self-control.

Whenever she gets a craving she has to follow it. She just can't say no to desert. No hesitation when reaching for just one more bite... and then another.

She stuffs herself not for the purpose of getting fat, but because she needs that last slice of pizza.

She's fat and getting fatter, but she's just a little shy about it. She squirms and blushes when you poke her soft spots. You can tease her about how much she eats, but she just keeps on eating anyway. She argues with you when you tell her how fat she's getting, but not because she doesn't believe you, just that she couldn't possibly be getting that fat. And even after a little teasing, she gratefully accepts a belly rub after moaning through an unnecessary pint of ice cream that was just too good not to finish.

She's so easy to enable. Eating anything I put in front of her without a second thought. Even asking for more if she isn't completely stuffed yet.

And of course she likes to compound her pleasures. Filling her mouth with a donut while her fat pussy is getting filled with cock just makes sense to her.

[toribookworm22]

But just because it is the hardest thing to do in the world doesn't mean it can't be done. Little by little. Person by person. In small moments. And every second you believe that people like you and want to spend time with you is a win and the magic of making friends can feel it.

I say this as someone who has always struggled to make friends partly because of this. I say this as someone who still has to talk myself into believing my friends like me some days.

It is a skill. You can learn it.

assuming that people like you and want to spend time with you is crucial to making friends. unfortunately this is the hardest thing to do in the world

[cheralith]

characters ; karasu tabito, otoya eita, yukimiya kenyu || wc ; 1.7k contains/cw ; gn!reader (though fem implied), no pronouns used, slight crack, roommates!au, modern!au, aged-up characters (mid-20s ish)

thinking about tabieitaken roommates!au new girl style, where you've finally had enough of your shitty landlord and your overpriced shoebox apartment after he pushes back his examination of your pipes that you think have been contaminated with rust for the nth time. not wanting to accidentally poison yourself any longer with the built-up rust inside them, you start finding new places to live and stumble upon a request for a roommate for a rather spacious loft. and the fact that you'll be paying only half of what you owe for the loft in comparison to your current apartment is an absolute steal!

when you send a request in for an interview, the person, karasu tabito asks when's the soonest you can come and is clearly more than elated in his email sent back to you when you say you can come after work tomorrow. something is telling you that there's a catch to this loft because you still can't believe you're only paying a fraction of a price for what seems to be a three bedroom apartment compared to the shoebox, but you shake it off, thinking that this opportunity only comes once in a lifetime and that if it comes to you, you should take it with full glory.

karasu comes to greet you at the door, a cordial smile on his face and tells you to make yourself comfortable, an accent evident in his tone. the loft is bigger in person, clearly, and it has a bunch of windows that let in a bunch of natural light. evidence of a man is scattered throughout the apartment, with some spare sweaters and a couple of beer cans sprinkled about, but it's still rather tidy.

after he asks you if you'd like some tea, he tells you to sit down at the couch, and the other roommates should be coming home soon after their grocery trip.

your head spins back to him. you blink.

"u-uh... other roommates?" you hastily say, taken aback.

karasu turns back to you, a cup of peach tea and honey in one hand for you. he raises a brow. "er, yeah...?"

"i-i thought," you begin and pull out your phone to double check the application. "i thought it was just you living here?"

karasu snorts and shakes his head, gently settling down the cup of tea in front of you.

"i wish," his kansai accent drawls with a laugh. "but no, i couldn't afford this all by myself. pretty sure i put down that we were lookin' for a fourth roomie?"

and to your disdain, you missed the fine print that was at the very bottom of the application, one that was hidden by the "read more" feature you didn't bother to check after your excitement seeing the cheap rent and spacious area took over. "fourth roommate needed, rent will be split across four ways equally" says the last bullet point.

your lips warble a bit. of course you overlooked such an important detail. you were so overconfident that you had found such an amazing place for cheap that you failed to try and find a justification for, only for reality to hit you hard on the head. and you had just signed off your lease, as well!

karasu notices your hesitation. "i know it doesn't come off as much comin' from a guy like me, but i swear my roomies are real nice and proper folks," he pauses, thinking over his words for a minute. "well, for sure one of them at least..."

three roommates... oh god. you ponder about. you've had roommates in the past—both good and bad—and you're sure you've dealt your fair share of rather horrible roommates back in your early adult years, so you think that four fully-fledged adults would have reached some point of maturity. the apartment did look spick and span after all.

the lock clicks suddenly at the front door.

"ah, they're here," karasu says with a grin. "don't worry, i promise they don't bite."

but his attempt at comfort doesn't do that much to ease your nerves, especially as you witness two other men walk into the loft with grocery bags in hand. your eye twitches.

one of them sports a rather fashionable manner—dressed in a light trench coat, hemmed jeans, and noir turtleneck, his hazelnut hair parted neatly with stylish glasses to top off his face.

the other... not so much. a beanie tops off a mess of white hair with a striking green lock falling over his face, a baggy white t-shirt reading "I ♡ MILFS" with grey sweatpants to match to clearly contrast the other man's outfit.

"they didn't have those cookies and cream protein bars you wanted tabi," beanie says nonchalantly as he takes off his slides. "so i got you some ice cream instead."

karasu grits his teeth. "ya fuckin' idiot. what makes you think ice cream is a good substitute for protein bars?"

glasses sighs and shrugs as he hangs up his coat, your presence to them still going unnoticed. "that's what i told him, but he insisted on it."

beanie shoves his hand into one of the plastic bags and holds up a cookies and cream ben & jerry's.

"they're the same flavor, aren't they?" he asks as he presents it to karasu. that's when he notices you sitting rigidly on the couch. his brows perk up. "oh hiya. you must be the roommate we're interviewing today."

you wave a stiff hand and give an even stiffer smile. "yes, hello. my name's—"

"—(y/n), right?" glasses asks you, a polite smile settled on his lips. when you really take a good look at him, you notice he's quite handsome, a certain charm radiating about him. "nice to meet you. i'm yukimiya kenyu."

his eyes exhibit a warmth that ever so slightly melts your frigid nerves, and you hypothesize that he's the one that's been keeping the apartment as tidy as it looks now.

"otoya eita," the other greets loosely, throwing a peace sign your way. you notice the way his eyes shift over your figure for a second before he nods quietly to himself, humming.

you squirm. karasu rolls his eyes and tells you not to pay him too much mind. "don't worry. he's a good guy at heart. a flirt, but you can just put him in his place if he needs it."

the other two settle themselves down next to karasu on the couch in front of you, yukimiya folding his hands courteously across his lap while otoya lays down lazily, manspreading a little. you don't think the personalities of three strangers you've just met have been so visible without the use of words.

yukimiya and karasu do most of the talking, asking if you have any pets or what do you usually do in the house. your answers fly by fluidly, many of them receiving nods of approval from the men. karasu asks you what you do for work, seeing if your salary would be able to cover your part of the rent.

"oh, um, i'm a manager for the marketing team for a talent agency," you say, feeling your nerves finally beginning to relax.

that piques yukimiya's interest. "oh really?" he asks, his eyes a little bright behind those glasses. "which one?"

"oh um, i doubt you've ever heard of it—" you sway off, a little shy about the fact you work for a rather prestigious company. "ego creatives group? does that ring a bell, at all?"

yukimiya gives you a charming laugh, a little astounded. "no way, that's the parent company of my agency! i work for flow talent management."

you give a little bit of a gasp that earns a chuckle out of karasu. "yukki here is a model himself part-time," he juts a thumb over to his brunette roommate. "a small world after all, huh?"

it's otoya's turn to speak up, his own ears perking up at the sound of your work and your connections. "so... does that mean you work for models... and stuff?"

yukimiya throws a warning glare. karasu pinches him on his arm, earning a whine from him. "what! can't a guy be curious?"

karasu points to a lone jar settled on the coffee table that has a post-it taped onto the front of it reading douchebag jar in sharpie. "that's worth at least a dollar."

otoya grimaces and pulls out a dollar bill, plopping it into the half-filled jar to your amusement.

the interview eventually ends and the men give you a tour of the loft and where you'll be staying. your bedroom is the second-largest one, one that has a large array of windows that look out into the city skyline ever so beautifully with exposed brick on one end. you think it's just ever so slightly smaller than the entirety of your own apartment, the spaciousness making you giddy and forgetting about the fact that you'd be sharing a space with three men.

"is it to yer likin'?" karasu asks as you walk about the room, though he thinks he already knows the answer based on your astonishment.

yukimiya grins as you examine the large closet space. "i admit, i'm jealous that you'd be getting all that closet space, but i figure you might have more clothes than i do."

otoya pouts when you feel the comfort of the queen bed, sighing pleasurably as you bounce about it. "you wouldn't happen to want to trade beds, would you?"

regardless, it's clear that the three men have come a unanimous agreement without exchanging words. given your answers, you'd be a pretty good person to room with, as you had no pets, you were financially stable, tidy, and would probably spend most of the time in your room given you often came home late.

as you prepare yourself to leave, you thank the men for welcoming you into their abode. you think you may still need some time to make a proper decision, since you don't seem to brush off the fact you'd be living with three men so easily, but "believe me... the offer seems tempting."

"actually, about that," otoya mutters, scratching the back of his neck. he flickers his eyes toward the other men, who avert their gaze away from you in the same guilty manner. you furrow your brows. otoya turns back to you and swallows a little thickly.

karasu takes on the liberty of breaking the ice. "so our rent is actually due in a few days and we sort of... lied to our landlord that we found another roommate already. we don't mean to rush you but—"

"—we'd need an answer by tomorrow at the latest," otoya finishes and juts a pen in your hand, him pulling out a wrinkled document of the lease's agreement from behind his pocket. "or today. like, right now, if you're able."

[dyingswanpavlova]

Step-Father!Salesman Headcanons

Step-Father!Salesman is never really all too far away. It doesn't matter if he's right there behind you, glancing down at your uni work over your shoulder, creating a trace of goosebumps with the way his hot breath fans over your neck, or if you feel his presence somewhere close-by, not quite daring to look up. You know he's there, watching you. Always.

Step-Father!Salesman doesn't need to take a second glance at you to tell when you're lying to him. Excuses spill over your lips in such a rush and yet he doesn't even need that much of a proof. He can see it in your eyes. The way you avoid looking up at his dark, calculating gaze. He knows. And one day, you'll get punised for it.

Step-Father!Salesman has this infuriating smirk on his lips, the one that never once reaches his eyes. He doesn't pretend to express any mirth - his smirk is there to taunt you, mock you. Control you. Just like everything else he does. He doesn't even need to pretend not to notice you staring at his lips, whenever they're pulled into that irritating smile, rather than his usual scowl. You're just glaring at him, that's what you keep telling yourself. But you can't hide the way his gaze on you makes heat pool in your lower belly. Not forever. And certainly not from him.

Step-Father!Salesman will not comment the way you kiss your boyfriend goodbye in front of the house, before you make your way back inside. Of course you feel his gaze, threatening to consume you, through the window, even in the darkness. And you feel it. The tension in him, the subtle clench of his jaw, the way his smile is just a little tighter than usual. But it's not his place to do something about it, right? You're just his step-daughter.

Step-Father!Salesman who lingers in the shadows of the hallway, every time you make your way from the bathroom back to your room. Clad in only a damp towel and the shimmer of your lotion, you tiptoe your way back, firmly pretending not to notice the looming presence in the corner. But the flush on your skin and the quick rise and fall of your chest gives you away.

Step-Father!Salesman loves to watch you sleep. The way your lips are parted with soft breaths, the way your lashes tickle against your cheeks. The way your chest heaves just a tad bit too quick for you to truly be asleep. He can't keep himself from smirking. Such a bad girl, trying to make her step-father believe she's not there, listening. Feeling. Not yet, he thinks. Not yet. But soon.

Okay, I got a fic coming up for this, thanks to the lovely @koigguki, I just don't know when yet.

So, @koigguki , @andifiwereyourlittlegirl This is for you.✨️🥀

Forever Tag: @kpopsmutty69 🤍

Divider by @saradika-graphics

[muqingslover]

[ is that angst I smell? The menu for tonight offers the LADS boys and how they are post-breakup with you! yum! the reason for the break-up is open bc it's besides the point. Also, how do we feel about this layout? ]

Rafayel

Now playing: The cut that always bleeds by Conan Gray

Part of him had always expected this to happen. The ugly and resentful side of his heart that never believed in the so called "love" you held for him after the horrible things he went through and in the end he was proven right.

How many more reincarnations would he have to live through until you finally learned to love him? Or maybe this was his punishment for sacrificing the lives of his own people for someone who won't even look his way.

Personally, I don't think he's a weak, whiny baby most people describe him as. I firmly believe Rafayel can be resentful and angry, he just keeps it hidden so you won't see it. This time however? Oh you're seeing all the sides of him.

He wouldn't ever hurt you, absolutely not, but he will raise his voice when he questions why you were doing this to him, why were you forsaking him again, when he's given you everything he possibly could.

"Why is it never enough for you?! Why is it so damn hard for me to be enough for you?! Answer me!" The tears streaming down his face are something he doesn't even realize until his eyes begin to sting. How many centuries has it been since he had last cried?

For months he'd stay locked inside his studio and no one is allowed to visit, not even his aunt is able to help. The paintings he had of you were all ruined but Rafayel still found himself sketching your face like clockwork each time he stood in front of an empty canvas.

He feels angry, betrayed and he's just so, so hurt. I believe that depending on the reason behind the breakup it could very well be his last straw and will lead to him returning to the sea for good.

One day he's just gone without a trace and he's never coming back.

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Xavier

Now playing: The loneliest by Måneskin

He can't believe this is happening. Like, you choosing to break up with him was never even an option in his mind. Xavier would immediately assume it was his fault and beg for you to let him try and fix whatever went wrong.

His entire world shatters when you walk out the door and somehow it hurts so much more than when he held you in his arms as life left your body.

For months he would take part of the same missions you did, visit the same spaces, take the same train and do anything he could to be apart of your life. The silence between the two of you is suffocating but, surprisingly, Xavier is the one who makes the effort to make conversation about even the simplest of things.

His emotional state would completely drain him. He is so exhausted but he can't sleep at all. Not when he knows you chose to not be by his side.

Nevertheless, Xavier would keep trying, trying and trying and then some more. He brings you things he tried to cook in hope it'll make you smile the same way it did before only to end up throwing it away in a bin after you declined it.

Eventually his exhaustion would catch up to him and lead to a fatal mistake while out in a mission. He is stubborn, but there is only so much he can do when his own body is running into the ground.

"Can you see the sky from where you are?" He would ask during a call you received in the middle of the night in which, unknown to you, would be the last time you ever heard his voice. To Xavier however, he was relived he was able to hear your voice while under the same sky one last time.

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Zayne

Now playing: Promise by Laufey

The breakup itself is so quiet and calm. The two of you discussed things and he accepted it. Zayne would always, always, respect your choices. If being by his side was not something you wanted then he will let you go without any claw marks.

It was too awkward to be around each other so what follows are weeks of radio silence. He throws himself into his work, but he can't find the focus to properly do his job. His mind always go back to you�� Were you okay? Were you thinking of him at all? Were you eating and sleeping well? Who was by your side now?

He breaks the no contact rule first to check on you and although he isn't sure if what he feels is genuine relief when he sees you doing well at least that's...closure. You're happy and healthy, even without him, and he couldn't ask for more than that.

Zayne feels as if everything around him turned dull and grey. His heart frozen in time after you left and he is nothing more than a husk that functions on autopilot until his body breaks down.

He feels cold regardless of the temperature now that you're not here and he believes it is what it is. He tried, he truly did his absolute best, but he can't take away from your happiness.

The two of you will return to being friends after a while and he will continue to support and care for you like he always did. To you, the moments you shared will soon be forgotten while Zayne he will forever remain frozen in those warm memories.

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Sylus

Now playing: The Moon will sing by The Crave Wives

His hands gently cradle your face as he asks you to please talk to him because there's nothing he wouldn't do for you. Except sometimes there are are things he simply can't do and that's something he would be forced to accept.

Sylus would ask to keep contact even if it's just for the sake of business and uses any and every excuse to see you or hear your voice. If he can't be wanted then he will be needed and if he can't be needed then he is okay with being used as long as it's by your hands.

In truth, he wouldn't ever give you up regardless if you fell for someone else or years pass. He will be frustrated and hurt at times, but he can be patient. He will wait until it's his turn to be deserving of your heart again.

Though that does not mean he will do absolutely nothing. Sylus would tell you every day that he still loves you and it doesn't matter what you say because he won't ever feel disencouraged.

"I'm not expecting anything or pressuring you. I'm only reminding you that my love for you won't change even if you're not by my side." His voice is like a gentle coo as his hand comes to pat your head, playfully ruffling your hair so you would drop the serious expression on your pretty face.

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Caleb

Now playing: In my room by Julia Wolf

The biggest CRASH out.

First, he knows you want to break up before you even gather up the courage to bring it up and he finds a way to stop you from saying it every. single. time.

"Caleb I think—" "Oh! I completely forgot! I got these tickets to the show you wanted to go! C'mon, c'mon! We'll be late!"

He is in strong denial after you finally manage to say it. He'd claim you're just confused about things and that it'll pass as long as you give it some time because you don't truly mean it. You need him, how could you ever think otherwise?

He will keep calling and texting you non-stop— He begs you to talk to him and rethink your choice. You're obviously making a mistake so please stop this already.

It would take a lot to make him stop. Unless you had an ironclad reason to not come back to him then he would keep going. When he does stop though? Oof.

Caleb could only endure the torture and damage done to him mentally and physically all those years because you were his anchor. His entire life is centered around you and now that you're gone he'd lose all of his motivation.

The last time you hear from him is through the news you'd receive about the colonel who took his own life.

"Please keep me close to your heart." Your eyes read the words on the letter while your other hand clutched the necklace he left for you. Would you grant him this one last, selfish wish of his?

[angrylittlesliceofpizza]

yesss that's the key in my opinion though:

fairies are not a part of our experience of reality. walrusses are.

if you open the door and find a tiny tinkerbell like faery, well, all bets are off, your first reaction won't be "who the heck knocked??" it'll be "whoah fairies are real apparently, let's ask this one why they's visiting me, this is going to be interesting!"

if you find a walrus when you don't live where they also live… that's going to raise A LOT of questions about *the very presence of the walrus*. because it probably didn't decide to come here by itself, so someone had to bring it there. and knock. who is this person? how did they have access to a walrus? WHY bring it HERE? you can ask the fairy why it's there, you can't ask the walrus! plus, it's a protected species— are you going to get in trouble for this?? who do you call for help dealing with this several hundred kg beast!? it will definitely *not* stay just i front of the door, and no matter where it goes, if the person who delivered it doesn't show up it's probably *your* responsability now, so you can't let it wander off in the street, and you do *not* want it inside your house!! will people ven believe you if you call them and explain you have a walrus on your doorstep??

… THAT's why and how the walrus is weirder. it's very normal and real in itself, apart from the crucial fact that *it's not where it should be, and you have no idea how or why* its presence raises way too many questions that can't be answered easily, whereas "fairies are real, here's a proof" seems to either answer most of the questions in that case, or maybe render them irrelevant (asking how or why fairies are real when you have one right in front of you is. useless. but THE WALRUS)

dropped the walrus vs fairy question on a group of psychologists today and not only did the majority agree the walrus would be more surprising, the one with the strongest background in research responded to the ‘but fairies aren’t real’ argument with “are your beliefs so inflexible that you’ve never considered you might be wrong about what’s real and what’s not?” and honestly i haven’t recovered

[subrosasteath]

Making another post actually, because all of the symbolism in Win or Lose is amazing.

Having anxiety be a creature that just grows and grows, and eats away and crushes Laurie down until she can't speak or walk like she used to? Having Laurie's dad always be under the sun, or some kind of light to signify that while Laurie is religious, and looks up to god, what she's really looking to is her father?

The way armour is necessary for some jobs - Frank need to be able to take criticism, and still stick firm to what he knows is true, - and that relief of taking it off? And when it bleeds into personal life, what can he even do? When he's been heart, because he can't open up, doesn't that just make it harder to shed that in the first place?

And then Ira, whose perspective reminds me a lot of Captain Underpants, and is so, so sweet. He's just a little kid, and a little weird, and he just wants friends who like him for that! And he wants his big sister to like him, and spend time with him! And he's so imaginative, the scribbly, cartoon style of his little world he spies through? I was just in love. The fact that he kept picturing the teenagers as super heros and rebels and good guys- and just the fact that he sounds like a kid! Are you kidding, that autraulian joke? I laughed so hard because I've heard kids talk like that, that's what shy, caring little kids sound like when they've been shot down before!

Yuwen's mini me inside his heart screaming like me!!, the version of him he doesn't let out, because it's cardboard and flimsy and so easy to crush. I'm really amazed at the way they portrayed Yuwen and Taylor, because i remember being in middleschool, and while I never dated (cough cough aroace), the depiction of them "picking out curtains and moving in" feels so real, because I do believe that's what love will always feel like, no matter the age. Being in middleschool doesn't mean the love isn't true, or isn't there just because it's not likely to last. And the way they depicted kissing, not by showing them kiss, but by showing what it felt like? I was amazed. Baffled. I can't believe I haven't seen more things like that.

(It's actually incredibly interesting to me, that 2/3 main male characters shown so far, have gimmicks of protection. Protecting themselves, their emotions, and who they are as a person, because they feel they can't be open and honest, they feel they can't trust their emotions to guide them.)

I talked about Rochelle and her mom in a seperate post, but the gasp I let out when I realized Rochelle's gravity was weird because she didn't have the stable force of a mom? Oh my god. Rochelle feels like her family is upside down, that she has to be the adult, and because of that, every force in her life is turned upside. She has no one to rely on and nothing to ground her, until her mom is finally there for her, no phone in hand at the end of episode 4. Gravity rights itself because her mom is there, fully present, to help her.

The way they contrasted Rochelle's episode's mood with her mom's was fantastic, because her mom's felt like a performance. She's performing, always, because she doesn't know how to be otherwise! She performs being a good mom and performs being happy for her audience, and even performs at the party, wether she wants to or not! That was an audience! And everything about her performance has bleeded into the way she sees the world, how everything's pink and sparkling and upbeat. It's only when she finds Rochelle do we see her not performing, we get to see, for the first time, who Vanessa is for just Rochelle. For just her family.

I'm so invested, so obsessed, SO READY FOR THE NEXT TWO EPISODES!!

(As a sidenote, if you haven't seen the storyboards of the cut trans scene, here's a link to the internet archive of them. I can't find them anywhere else. But the Picasso style falling apart, the shattering and splitting of identity, because Kai is scared, and has to act both parts and it's confusing and hurting her and oh- it really just punches me in the gut.

Here's the link directly to the archive: https://archive.org/details/23fr-4r

and the link to the reddit post i got it from: https://www.reddit.com/r/lostmedia/comments/1hhj1zh/partially_lost_deleted_storyline_from_upcoming/

please go watch it if you like the show it's absolutely beautiful <3)

[the-modern-typewriter]

hello, i'm in love with your writing! if you could do one of your classic lovers to enemies up-close angsty scenes, where the hero is a stoic, closed-off person who doesn't quite have the words to express their emotions, while the villain wants the hero to just like, talk to them, dammit, even if it's to say something that would break their heart all over again.

love your work and have a great rest of the day!

"Really?" the villain asked. "You're just going to sit there in silence staring at me?"

The battle had not gone how the villain had hoped; primarily due to the interference of their former lover. Instead of the grand fruition of all of their plans, the villain was stuck with cuffs that dug into their wrists, a looming future of incarceration and, of course, their damned ex.

"What do you want me to say?" There was no emotion in the hero's voice. There never bloody was. "I told you so?"

The villain snarled, under their breath. They gave the chains a vicious yank. It did no good. It just made their skin chafe.

"You're going to hurt yourself," the hero said.

"Oh, like you care."

The hero's jaw worked. That was, at least, something. The villain glared at them. The hero looked down.

"Fine, yeah," the villain said, as the silence threatened to stretch unbearably again. "I told you so! Sure. Whatever. If that's the last thing you ever want to say to me, who am I to stop you?"

"It's not the last thing I'm ever going to say to you."

"It's not the last thing I'm ever going to say to you," the villain mimicked, distorted and pretty and cruel. "Jesus."

The hero glanced up at them again. "Again," they said. "What do you want me to say?"

The villain stared at them, incredulously.

They felt like there were a thousand things that the two of them could possibly start a conversation with. Some choice examples might include:

I'm sorry for locking you up forever.

I'm sorry it turned out this way. I wish things could have been different between us. I love you. I still love you.

I'm sorry I ever bloody loved you, you stupid bloody indifferent git. How can you just sit there? How can you have nothing to say to me?!

Just as an off the top of the head example!

"It's not about what I want you to say," the villain said finally. "Just say something. Anything. Oh my god."

The hero opened their mouth, then closed it. They shifted on their chair, opposite, and checked their watch instead.

The temporary security holding cell was unbearably quiet once more. Would their permanent prison be unbearably quiet too? Or would it be a case of so crowded that they never got a moment of peace?

"I can't believe you thought you could beat me," the villain said, in their best hero voice. "Muhaha. Don't you know I have the righteous power of being sanctimonious and insufferable on my side? Fool."

The hero's eye twitched. "Is that the last thing you ever want to say to me, then?"

"What do you want me to say?" The villain jutted their chin. "Please, please, pretty please forgive me? I am the worst. I never deserved you. It's totally okay that you're leaving me to rot forever."

"I'm not leaving you to rot."

"Oh, you could have fooled me. I mean, I suppose it wouldn't-"

The hero's hand clamped down on their mouth.

The villain had barely even seen them move. A split second blur, standing and crossing the minimal space between them. The villain's breath caught as they looked up at that familiar face, overwhelmed with familiar presence.

The hero used to press them up against walls and kiss them, like they could translate all of the languages of the world with kisses alone.

The hero's eyes...

They were wet with tears, though whether that was out of sorrow or fury, the villain wasn't sure.

"I'm not leaving you to rot," the hero said, slow, through gritted teeth. "And I do care. How can you think I don't care? Or are you just saying it to hurt me because you lost? I don't get it. I don't get you. I thought I did, once, but I just - I don't get you anymore. I don't get how you could do any of this. I don't get how you can be so - so cruel! You talk all the time and it's just nonsense. It's nothing. So just - just shut up. For once in your life, shut up."

The villain stared up at them, wide-eyed.

They wanted to open their mouth and tell the hero that was maybe the most words they'd heard them say in years, since the two of them started fighting. The hero's hand didn't allow that. The hero's hand trembled against them, like sign language, but the villain didn't know how to read that.

They never knew how to read the hero anymore.

"Even if I'd tried to talk to you," the hero said, quietly, "you wouldn't have listened. You haven't listened to anyone since we were five, once you made up your mind about something. So don't - this isn't my fault, okay? I didn't want this. I didn't want any of this."

So let me go.

There were a thousand arguments they could try. Atonement and you don't really want this and you'll never see me again and do you really think they can hold me anyway? Ha!

The hero closed their eyes. They dashed at the tears that threatened to roll down their cheeks with their free hand.

"And now," the hero said, "now there's nothing I could say to you that would make this better. That would make what you did better. So don't - don't you dare - just stop talking." Then again, softer, "just stop talking. Please."

The villain's chest chest ached. They'd hoped it had stopped doing that. It was supposed to have stopped doing that, especially for them.

Yet, they felt raw, in a way that had nothing to do with battle.

When the hero's hand fell away from their mouth, they said nothing. They couldn't quite manage to.

The hero looked at them, in silence, an unreadable storm on their face. The villain wanted to invent a weather vane, a thermometer, a scale just for the measuring and decrypting of them. They wanted to bring ancient history to the scholars and have them piece together all the bits that had got lost and forgotten in translation somewhere.

They wanted...

The hero leaned down to kiss them, soft and terribly sweet. A broken sound caught in the villain's throat.

Then the hero was on their knees, face pressed against the villain's knees, sobbing.

With the villain's hands cuffed behind their back, they couldn't even reach out and hold them.

They could do nothing.

They could say, it felt, nothing.

They were back to staring at each other in silence when the holding cell doors finally opened and the villain was taken away.

[satinprose]

꒰ ♱ ꒱ alpha!ellie x omega!reader. just needed to write something absolutely filthy, hold on please. omegaverse is a huge guilty pleasure of mine, so please send requests if you like, i'll absolutely deliver. amab!ellie. rut/pre-rut. mentions of knotting. breeding kink. scent kink. mentions of bj, hj, cunnilingus, p in v sex. she fucks one of your stuffed animals sorry. omegaverse. primal instincts. jealousy. she's still a loser. ( 18+, MDNI )

alpha!ellie who, for the entire week before her rut, is batshit insane. she's normally a fairly progressive and respectful person. she's been a target for bullying since she was small due to her being far from what anyone expects of an alpha. she just doesn't believe in all that strange shit others do—she doesn't need to have any extreme authoritarian ownership of an omega to be confident, she just is. she knows you do not exist for her pleasure, but god, if she doesn't think about how perfect your softness is sometimes, she'd be lying. in pre-rut, it's severe. poor baby turns into the biggest asshole, and she feels so guilty every time.

it's a difficult time for any alpha and you know that, so it doesn't shock you if ellie becomes irritable or angry when her cock has been painfully hard for days. what should surprise you is the extent that her desire goes during this time.

thinking with her dick for a whole week. she can't help it, breeding you is on her mind night and day. stuffing every inch into your cunt and warming herself, making sure her seed takes. but you're on suppressants. shit won't work. it's for a good reason, she knows it when she's rational. pre-rut ellie is not rational in any way, shape, or form. when her nose catches the faintest whiff of your scent her cock rises. she has a practically permanent tent all week—no wonder she cannot be sane about you.

you aren't helpful about it, either. perhaps it's the anticipation of knowing what's coming, or it's just that you are that much of her bitch, but you get aroused at the smallest of things. when ellie raises her voice. when you spot the little patch of precum leaking onto her sweatpants. she can smell you immediately, how your slick pools so desperately.

but you are so good. obediently obeying her every word, sitting on her lap and letting her hump her way to paradise, getting on your knees and parting your lips the moment she brushes her tip against them, wrapping your hand around her dick when she pulls her boxers down. you're so sweet, in taste and scent. ellie will hold you down with her head between your thighs for a solid hour. you're so good at taking everything she offers, and ellie loves it. "so content with me, my sweet girl. got so lucky with you, didn't i?"

appreciative is an understatement when it comes down to it. ellie spends pre-rut worshipping you. she should be worshipping you, especially with you managing to put up with this shit every couple of months.

because it makes her do desperate things. even when you aren't around, she's still haunted by you, your scent, or her memory of the way you feel around her cock. it's like a domino effect, one tiny thought about you leads to another, which leads to her cock twitching, which leads to an angry boner leaking precum like a faucet. if you aren't around, she'll start by doing the sane thing, like trying to jack off. it rarely works, ever. that's when she starts doing things she'll regret later; hunting the laundry hamper for your panties, hugging your clothes while she cums, or that day that she was so desperate she grabbed one of your stuffed animals. you were not pleased to come home to one of your favourite plush friends covered in cum.

not only is she horny and irritable during pre-rut, but ellie is absolutely fucking miserable as well. it makes her so embarrassed. she feels exactly as though she is the loser everyone told her she'd be growing up. not a good enough alpha. she feels outright pathetic for crying when her dick's so hard and you're not home. she becomes insecure. what if there are other alphas out there trying to talk to you? what if they make a move and you accept because they're just better than her? tougher, meaner, honestly, probably taller too. the mere thought makes thick, hot tears brim her eyes. nothing can stop her from pouncing on you the moment you get home, she'll fuck you on the floor if she has to.

she'll do whatever it takes not to feel so much like a loser, but if anything, she just seems even more like one when she's shoving her long cock into you and whimpering. whining into your ear. "mine, you're mine, please, please, please, say you're mine."

but you make it so much better almost instantly. at the end of the day for ellie, it doesn't matter what others think, because you were made for her, and no matter what she does, you'll be babbling 'alpha, alpha' over and over again like a chant.

🏷️ @absfemme @abbyslvrrr @cowgirlvi @kaykeryyy @valeisaslut @eriiwaii @s0phi3w4lt3n @ellieshothousewife @therealhexstrap @jinxedbambi @heyimrye

[mallymun]

i also wanted to give a proper response to this because, those 4 Failures mentioned in the original post? they are often (but not always) tied into each other

there are religions that existed that believed that slavery was a good thing and you should put your enemies into slavery, your enemies, that you were more than likely racist towards if your leader had found a way to Other them

you may recall some story about a carpenter's son and how his little family moved around a lot in his youth to avoid the ire of their government leader? this child and his family were NOT the majority in that land, they honored a different god and practiced different rituals, this was well established in his written story, they were different but they still paid the taxes their government leader demanded

in the modern day, there's at least one melting pot city per country, they all have different degrees of melting pot but they are still epicenters of diversity. yes, in places like that, people do tend to congregate into smaller sections of the cities that they'll call Little This or Little That, but even within those mini-cities there is diversity of religion, of culture, of racism

i think back to my time at university, i was friends with some mouse of a girl, between classes we would steal away to a secret place, a ballet classroom with mirrors up and down the walls... and being used as storage. we'd spend hours looking up japanese culture and trying out vocaloid dances until our lungs hurt, i was hispanic, she was black, i was a recovering atheist, she truly believed in Jesus and the lessons he taught, that is more than FIVE different points of culture in one room

because a single person is not just ONE point of culture, even if they think they are

a person is every bit of lessons they were taught as they grew up

a person is their religion or lack-thereof, their ethnicity regardless of if they were raised in it directly, their schooling and their cliques as they learned, the location they grew up, the location they lived most of their lives outside of the main story, the location they are during the main story, the location they spend their time when getting away from daily life, the people they spend their time with willingly, the people they must spend time with during their daily life

there are SO MANY points in a person's life where a Difference comes into play

so when i write my characters? even if they're in a world completely different from our own, i go into their notes and i decide what cultures they are about

i have this character named Justin, he was raised Catholic (Jesus doesn't exist in his world), he's still a monotheist (but there are FIVE major gods that exist there), his family is Hispanic (Spain doesn't exist), but he was raised American (his parents wanted him to be White), he found out when he was a kid that his parents were not really his parents (they hid it from him), he found out he's only half-human, he ran away as a kid and he's gone to other countries he can get to on foot, he's bisexual, he's genderqueer, he's polyamorous, his best friends are the very people he had been taught to treat like dirt as well as other half-humans like himself

these are all aspects of him i keep in mind when i write his story, and this is how i personally solve the issue presented in the og post, because i do a list like that for every character

TL;DR i define my characters by terms i KNOW, and i keep them in mind, and then when i tell the reader about a scene

about a group of human people selling their wares at some seasonal market in a town without a single visible non-human

then i know that Justin would cover his ears and keep his smile small as he goes about the market, that he would code switch and be on end because he can't tell if this is a safe place to be but he needs supplies so he'll linger just long enough and he'll make sure to verbally thank the local god instead of the one he knows

and then when he gets home to his melting pot of a town hidden in old temple ruins dedicated to the god he now follows, he'll throw back his hood and laugh loudly as another half-human swears to all the gods to get revenge on whoever stole her sweetroll, without a hint of fear or uncertainty

Some of the biggest fantasy worldbuilding fails that I see, in no particular order

Gods without religion. The Gods are real and a known historical fact, but virtually nobody is religious.

Cultural racism/discrimination without structural racism/discrimination. Discrimination that exists only in microagressions or mean comments, without existing in any sort of structural way.

Secret history with no clear reason for it to be secret and no clear method for maintaining that secrecy. Major parts of the world's history are kept entirely secret, even though there's not an obvious reason to do so and even when history has shown this is virtually impossible to enforce (especially in a world with any movement or communication across borders).

Large, homogeneous countries. Even without immigration, virtually no country larger than the Vatican will be fully homogeneous in terms of culture, dialect, beliefs, traditions, etc., much less a large one with limited communication technology as is often seen in fantasy. The Planet of Hats problem.

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Stress Relief (Sex) With ProHero Shoto | One Shot

At 6 o'clock on the dot you storm into the apartment in a work-induced rage. You toss your bag to the ground and manhandle your jacket off of your body with the angst of a thousand fiery suns. When you finally shut the door you throw back your head and let out a guttural "ughhhhh!"

Shoto watches you from the couch, unblinking as he dips his hand into a Tupperware of roasted chickpeas you cooked for him the day before. He worked all of last night so he's currently lounging in comfy clothes watching some nature documentary. His hands are bandaged up and healing from a particularly tough battle so he's been granted a few days off to recover and catch up on paperwork.

"Shoto you won't believe what my boss said to me today. Corporate work is so fucking frustrating." You pull at your hair and stamp around the apartment - tossing your keys on the kitchen table with a clatter. You open the fridge, look inside, slam it shut. You're just so damn wound up you can't even figure out what to do with yourself. You turn around to march towards the bathroom - maybe a calming hot shower is just the thing you need to switch off this abhorrent mood. You turn on your heel and walk right into Shoto's strong chest.

Sneaky bastard - he moves so quietly sometimes, like a sly cat. For the umpteenth time you make a mental note to put a bell on him.

Shoto reaches down to rest his bandaged hands lightly on your shoulders. He stares down at you with that intense gaze of his, mouth in a hard line.

"I know what you need." He says seriously, gaze flickering briefly down to your lips and back to your eyes.

Your foul mood simmers. You can't help but be a little bitchy to your sweet boyfriend. "And what the fuck do I need, Sho?" You give him a hard look, but he remains unfazed.

"You need a good fuck." He says, completely serious. No hint of sarcasm or teasing can be found.

Your eyes widen. "Excuse me?"

"Whenever you get this frustrated with work or your friends or politics, sex always seems to make you feel better. It mellows you out. Would you like me to fuck you? I have some free time right now since I'm off from work." He looks down at his hands pointedly. They flex around your shoulders and the bandages rustle. "I probably shouldn't use my hands much, though. So I can't do that thing you like."

You look up at Shoto, stunned. You've been together for years and sometimes you forget how unnervingly straight forward he can be.

You suck in a deep breath, the tension in your body already melting away as you recall how good Shoto feels inside of you. Your pussy crackles to life - all of a sudden your clit is practically begging for attention.

"Yeah, Sho. Fuck me?" You look up at him with glimmering eyes and he doesn't need telling twice. He slides his hands from your shoulders and bends down so he can carefully haul you up into his arms. You let out a laugh as you feel his thick biceps flex around you. You can almost guarantee that seeing Shoto naked will cure all of your troubles. He carries you off towards the bedroom and you can already feel him hard and ready in his sweatpants.

"I missed you today." He says as he tosses you lightly onto the bed. You bounce as you hit the mattress and it rips another giggle from your tense body.

"I missed you last night. I hate when you get into fights." You look up at him with big eyes, recalling earlier this morning when you saw him return home all bloody and bruised.

"I know. I'm sorry." Shoto say softly, leaning down to place a kiss on your temple. You close your eyes at the delicate contact of his lips against your skin, feeling the warmth of the kiss spread through your body like the glow of a bonfire. "I try to be careful. I know you worry."

When your eyes flutter open, you take in the way that Shoto stands over you posessively, all tall ProHero bulk. He peels off his shirt, revealing rippling muscles and hard-earned battle scars. He unceremoniously steps out of his shorts and underwear, his cock rock hard and glistening with precum.

You wriggle out of your own clothes as he stares you down with those beautiful mismatched eyes. He takes his dick in his hand and pumps, moaning openly as he starts to jerk himself off while staring at your breasts. God, you love his cock. It's the perfect length for you - 6 inches long with some weight to it, leaning slightly towards the left. You love that you're the only person on Earth who knows how his hard cock looks.

Shoto leans forward over you to grab a pillow, placing it under your butt so you'll be more comfortable. His movements are delicate - you ache as you realize that his hands must really be hurting beneath all of those bandages. You reach for one of them, bringing the bandaged material to your lips for a gentle kiss. He looks at you with such fondness you feel that your heart might melt.

"Thanks, love."

You open your legs for him and lay back on the bed, all thoughts of work temporarily forgotten as he slides himself against your entrance slowly. You both shudder at the contact - your pussy is slippery and wet and ready to be filled with his pulsing cock. He takes things slow, enjoying the way your body slides and stretches around him as he pushes into you. You let out a moan as Shoto fills you with his cock, all frustration has vanished. All you can do is focus on the feel of Shoto and his goddamn perfect dick inside of you.

When Shoto's almost all the way inside, he pauses to look down at you through light lashes. "I'm glad you were up for this." He says softly, thrusting forward lightly to bottom out inside of you. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel the tip of his cock hit a spot deep inside of you that no one else has ever come close to touching. "I can definitely use some stress release, too."

[reverieblondie]

Bad Dream

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Nightmares, Mysterious passes, Breaking and entering, Panic attack, Breaking washers, Bucky touches your underwear (whoops...)

Summary: You and Bucky are not only neighbors but friends for months now. You two are close... but are still finding out new things about each other...

Word Count: 2,613

A/N: This was inspired by an amazing request got from an anon. I loved the idea so much that I can see this being turned into a full series if enough people like it! Just let me know! I look forward to feedback like always! and request are always open!

"So... What am I eating?"  

Bucky says almost suspiciously as he looks at the macaroni noodle on his fork.

"I can not believe you are so picky," you say, rolling your eyes before taking a delightful bite of the casserole dish you made. Once swallowed, you point your fork accusingly toward Bucky. "It's called tuna mac. It's cheap to make but delicious. Now you can either eat it, or I will stop being such a friendly neighbor and stop sharing my dinners with you."

Bucky chuckles before giving you his signature smirk, "If that's the case, don't come knocking on my door when something of yours breaks again." 

You huff, he doesn't play fair. 

He watches as you pout and sigh before he takes the macaroni and tuna mix into his mouth. When he eats it, his eyes bulge slightly. "That's actually really good?"

"See, you just need to trust me, neighbor. It's something my mom used to make. Boil noodles, mix up the sauce, and top with cheese. It tastes better than it sounds." 

Bucky smiles as you ramble on. When you look over at him, he looks back to his plate, mixing it around as he makes a face before eating more. "That's true. This is way better than that chicken we had last Thursday."  

"Hey! We agreed to forget that monstrosity!"

Of course, Bucky laughs at your dramatics, and you can't help but echo it back. Thursday night dinners have become your favorite tradition since moving in; no matter how shitty your week could have been, this always lifts up your spirits, even just a little bit. Most people in your building seem to avoid Bucky; they won't join him in the elevator or even greet him in the mailboxes. They judge his past... but who are you to judge? Though getting to know him didn't happen instantly, it happened because of an accident you might have caused…

You have been fighting with these washers and dryers since you moved in. And now here you are fighting again with the washer. The stupid thing won't spin, and it's starting to flood with water. You paused the cycle and knew that you should just ask the maintenance guy for help, but that has the risk of being blamed for it being broken.

Distracted, you don't notice someone walking in to use the other machines. Honestly, it's surprising someone else is up this late just to do their laundry. So much for not running into anyone while you're dressed in your lazy day pajamas—no bra just to add to the pending embarrassment… Trying your best to keep your head down and fix the machine as silently as possible, you didn't realize that your rattling around has definitely drawn attention. 

Until a shadow is cast over you. Turning slightly, you look up at the imposing figure and see your next-door neighbor. James Barnes... Ex Winter soldier and a current Avenger... 

His head tilts as he stares down at you, "Problem?" 

This is the first time you have really seen him up close… he's much taller than you thought, and his eyes are the clearest shade of blue… While you're silently coking, Bucky shifts on his feet, his scowl deepening as he continues to stare. Mentally, you chastise yourself for being rude and pull your hand from the filled drum to offer him a handshake, stumbling out your name in the process. This was a mistake, however, because you ended up splashing the super soldier with washer water… -Shit… 

"I'm sorry, and yeah, I'm just trying to get this washer to work… they never want to act right… old machines acting wonky, what's new?" You huff a laugh, but Bucky keeps looking at you unamused… ah yes… he's an old machine, you idiot… 

You quickly take another step closer in panic mode, "Oh! But not all old machines! My grandma had a vacuum for like 20 years, and it never crapped out on her!" -what are you even saying? 

Buck just further scoles you, keeping his eyes locked on yours. Honestly, it's a bit intimidating—his intense stare locked onto you. Then there's the fact that his glare doesn't roam—it's just set on your eyes. Plus, you're just rambling on, and he's just watching you like you have lost your mind! You can't afford to move again… 

"Why don't you just call for maintenance?" he says in a confused tone, his brows knitting together.  

You give him a gentle smile, "I don't want to be blamed for breaking it…" 

He doesn't seem too impressed with your excuse as he rolls his eyes, but to your surprise, instead of walking away, leaving you to struggle, he places his laundry down and begins to investigate the machine. 

You step closer to him, "So you're going to help me?" you chirp.

"I'm going to try, but if it breaks further, that's on you…" -Okay can't really blame him for that..

"Fair enough, neighbor." he only seems to hum at that before continuing his investigation. 

He does his diligence checking everything out; while he does that, you're doing your own checking out. It's not like you're trying to be a perv.... but curiosity always gets the cat in the end, so you allow yourself to check him out a little. His back faces you, and it's incredible how sturdy it appears; you can even see how the muscles ripple with every move despite it being hidden underneath his t-shirt. Then his narrow waist that draws your attention down the length of him, and his arms bulging with every move as it roots around on the inside of the drum. The dark metal arm is so eye-catching you can't help but stare even though you know you shouldn't... If you were caught, you would be modified by how rude it would be. But you can't help yourself from admiring how pretty it truly is… and the craftsmanship is impeccable… 

"I think something is just caught if I can unwrap it…" With another pull and a slight groan, he rips out what was caught. Surprisingly, it's Small... red and- 

Bucky holds up the dripping wet material, and now that he has it unscrambled, you are mortified... Of course, out of everything to get tangled up and caught, it had to be your thong. Turning it about, Bucky looks at the material confused, unsure, until he meets your mortified eyes and flushed face. It must suddenly click for the man that he's holding a stranger's underwear because, with the inhuman speed, he's met with realization and he's practically throwing your underwear at you like it would bite him. 

The flush of his neck and the way he suddenly does not meet your eyes tells you he's thoroughly embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, ma'am…" Ma'am? Wow, now he's talking to you properly; he really is embarrassed...

It's quiet for a moment as Bucky awkwardly shifts on his feet. Then you can't help yourself any longer, and you laugh. You laugh so hard you all but fall over yourself, and to your shock, Bucky breaks from his mortification and joins in on your laughter.

The moment lasted for a while until you were both on the verge of tears. As you wipe away your tears, you catch him smiling, and it's like looking at a completely different guy. If people saw this, they wouldn't be avoiding him, that's for sure. 

With the washer fixed, you could finish your laundry cycle as Bucky moved to start his. As you're turning to thank your helpful neighbor, he is gone? Scanning the room, you see him leaving, shit! 

"James!" You shout without thinking. He pauses before turning back with a small smirk. 

"Don't tell me you broke something else." 

He's… teasing you? A grin spreads to your face, "I wanted to thank you for helping me out." 

He shrugged, "It's no problem. But call me Bucky; when you say James, it makes me feel old." With that, he walked off. 

Days later, you were still troubled by the feeling you didn't get to properly thank your neighbor for saving your panties from doom. So you did the only thing you could think of. Making him food. Make sure debts and gratitude are always paid... it's something you picked up from both your parents, but where your dad made sure to do it with favors and money, your mom would always pay by making desserts and meals. So, in your situation, you decided on a platter of brownies.

The look on his face when you knocked on his door was priceless. Of course, he accepted, and thus, the cycle between you two started. You would have a favor, Bucky would help, and then you would make him a meal or dessert. Over time, Bucky's grumpiness was replaced with friendliness, and your friendship got stronger. Even though you had fewer favors, you two continued the tradition of eating a home-cooked meal together once a week until suddenly, it was odd if you were not seeing him.

Like now...

It's been three weeks since you last saw him. It's honestly so lonely in the building without him around. Sure, he's not talkative all the time, and there are still things you know you two have not shared, but it's undeniable this closeness you feel to him.

You just hope you get to see him soon, or you will be forced to break something and force him to come back…

It's another quiet night. It should be a night that you rest easy, drifting far off into dreamland. But you just can't seem to fall asleep. Perhaps it's the fault of a certain super soldier's absence. As you lay pondering whether you should just force yourself to rest or get up and do something until you're tired…

Then, loud bangs from the neighboring wall interrupted the stillness. On instinct, you freeze and try to listen to where the crashing is coming from. 

Bucky's place... but that's odd; he's not home. Or did you just miss him? Another crash makes you second guess that it could be a break in… 

But who would be dumb enough to break into a super soldier's apartment?

Apparently, you are...

It is technically breaking and entering, but is it bad if you do it for a good reason? What if someone is wreaking his place? What if he's in danger? What will you do if you actually run into someone? You will deal with that once you encounter it…

You ignore that for now as you concentrate on picking the lock... You hated it then, but you're now thankful for the skill at times like this. It clicks with a few more twists, and you're now sneaking through the threshold.

It's the same place you have been in multiple times, but tonight, you see the crumble of blankets on the living room floor, the flipped furniture, the mess of wreckage. Then you see the more heart-aching sight in the room's darkness. 

Bucky usually stands tall and has that sly smirk for you with some greeting. Now, he is crouched so small, disheveled, and trembling. Those ocean-blue eyes clenched tightly...

A step towards him immediately has him on the defense, ready to pounce.

But he pauses at the sight of you, confused, rightly so. But you're more distracted by how the outside lights reflect on the streams down his cheeks.

You're about to say something, but his hoarse voice cuts you off before you can, "Get out!".

You should really listen, but as he sinks back to the floor, your feet feel like lead. With a swallow and a steadying breath, you step closer. He should understand by now that you're not one for listening. 

Closer now, you can take in his sweat-drenched body and matted hair and how he tries to stop shaking... Thousands of questions flock to you; you just swallow them down. Slowly, you sit close enough to be noticed but not enough to touch him…

Settled beside him, you hold your hand towards him on the floor, making a silent offer. "I'll stay for as long as it takes..." 

It could take minutes or hours. There is also the chance of him lashing out, but you will just be silent and patient and let him feel your presence and hear your calm breaths.

You're there for a couple of minutes until a clammy warmth touches your hand. Looking down, you can tell the shaking has stopped a little. You spread your fingers and let him lace them with his own. 

"I... don't know what to say..." he mumbles, but you shake your head before meeting his eyes.

"You don't have to explain... We all have scars... Bad dreams. "

"Every night I have bad dreams... Sometimes, I just randomly shake awake."

"Other times, you just lay there waiting for the sun to rise."

The look he gives you tells you he's shared the experience. You shrug and look out the window, "Like I said... bad dreams."

As you two sit there, his shaking slowly stills, but your hand's grip only tightens. 

"I'm sorry..." It was such a silent whisper that you almost didn't hear it. Bucky, tired, and a wreck, brought back memories you thought were packed away. 

"Don't be sorry. Let's just work on getting you cleaned up. Are you good enough to rinse off?"

Bucky nods before standing up... He walks towards his bathroom but pauses just short... He has his own set of questions he wants to ask... One of them is clear to you... are you going to stay... 

"I'll clean for a bit and will brew some tea for, when you get out. Okay?" 

He gives a short nod before disappearing. You start placing what you can remember being placed before. It takes you a minute to get everything back in its place. Sure, this place was a mess, but you have had to fix the fallout of worse. Once done, you move on to the kitchen to brew the tea. As the water heats, you just listen to the muffled sound of the shower. Does this happen often? And if so, how have you never noticed before?

Bucky takes longer to wash off than you expected, but ultimately, it's a good thing he took the time for himself. When he finally comes out of the bathroom, he's only in pajama bottoms, a towel resting on his shoulder, and fixing his metal arm back into place. His hair is still dripping wet when he finally plops down on the couch. For a long moment, he's still thinking of what to say, but you just slide the peppermint tea over to him.

Bucky gives a small thank you before he lifts the cup, letting the smell waft to his nose and the cup warm his hand. When he finally takes a sip, you feel like you can breathe again. While he works on his tea, you notice the drops falling from his hair and landing on his skin, causing him to shiver. He didn't even bother to dry his hair, huh? Carefully, you take the towel from his shoulder and softly start to dry his wet hair away. Bucky looks at you curiously as you focus on the task before you. 

"Why are you so good at this?" 

"Like I said, everyone gets bad dreams. Some worse than others." 

He hums before slightly chuckling, "Is that also why you know how to break into apartments?"

The playful tone in his voice makes your heart squeeze, and you can't help but grin, "You're not the only one with secrets, soldier boy." 

[avelera]

(Arcane Meta) "Why do you persist?" And the Character Flaw of Viktor's Tendency Towards Non-Confrontation

After writing this post I had something of a brainwave about a character flaw of Viktor's that had previously never occurred to me before. Namely, that of his habit of simply removing himself from moments of disagreement or confrontations, rather than sticking around to fight harder for his causes or negotiating to reach a compromise.

I've spoken elsewhere about how Viktor comes across as fairly flaw-free after Season 1, so one thing I found really interesting about getting his full arc in S2 is that we can begin to see his character flaws brought into focus.

And I should clarify, a literary character flaw is not the same thing as a real life character flaw. A literary character flaw is when there is something about the character that stands in the way of them achieving their goal in the story. For example, being clumsy is not a "character flaw" in a real person, it's simply a trait of neutral moral value, but it could be a character flaw in a story about a person who wants to become a ballerina, something they need to work to overcome.

So, I would and have argued that these are a few of Viktor's character flaws, personality traits of his that get in the way of him achieving his character's goals in Arcane:

Political disinterest: despite the fact that Viktor has a stated goal of helping the undercity, he never looks to other methods for improving life down there outside his personal skillset of science. Even when his close partner, Jayce, becomes a Councilor, able to enact political change with a wave of his hand, Viktor is dismissive of this avenue as a waste of time even though he is proven wrong in this assessment by the Zaun independence vote (at least, until outside forces like Jinx's rocket interfere).

Self-isolation: Viktor is plagued by loneliness that appears to be so painful to him that it eventually sets him on his villain path. However, he is also surrounded by people who care for him, especially Jayce and Sky who are literally willing to risk their lives for him. But Viktor seems either unaware of their affection in Sky's case or actively pushing it away in Jayce's case. He's not actually alone, he just thinks he's alone because of his habit of self-isolation when he is focused on his work or (very reasonably) stressed about things like his imminent mortality. This is also a flaw when it comes to his goals as a scientist, because Viktor pushes away potential collaborators. He's not aware of Sky's research towards his goal of improving lives in the undercity until after she dies. He's so skittish about Jayce potentially shutting down his research into the Hexcore and by extension saving his own life that he doesn't bring in his best scientific partner in on the work when Jayce could probably accelerate or even solve the problems Viktor is facing if he knew about them. Heck, he doesn't even tell Jayce he's dying but still shows resentment towards Jayce not spending time with him or helping him in the lab!

Single-mindedness/Intractability: It's Viktor's way or the highway. He doesn't compromise, or negotiate, in order to advance his own goals. This is in some ways a virtue, he refuses to bow in the face of pressure to turn his creation into a weapon, which is laudable. However, as stated above, he also has blinders on when it comes to other methods for achieving his stated goals, like improving lives in the undercity. Viktor sets his mind on a course of action and cannot be swayed by any argument. If he sees a confrontation he can't win, that brings us to the final flaw I wanted to address in this essay:

Non-confrontation: Viktor does not fight for his beliefs or persist in searching for a solution in partnership with others, even Jayce. This isn't to say he never engages in argument. He states his position, but like many intellectuals, he seems to believe that simply stating his position is enough and then he refuses to budge. If he doesn't get his way after a certain amount of time, he shows his displeasure by removing himself from the situation entirely rather than looking for common ground or alternate paths.

I want to reiterate, these are character flaws for a fictional character. In a real life person, I wouldn't think of this as necessarily a flaw at all. Viktor's stance could even be a virtue in a real person, an unwillingness to bend the pressures of the world, and the maturity to not get involved in ugly fights but instead simply step away from a situation he no longer wishes to be a part of.

It is a mature and intellectual response but, when it comes to the problems Viktor faces in Arcane, it is a symptom of his pacifism that actively gets in the way of him achieving his stated goals.

Viktor doesn't fight again Hextech weapons. He simply states his disapproval and then removes himself from the debate, leaving the decision entirely in Jayce's hands.

Viktor doesn't fight Heimerdinger for the removal of safeguards or defend his research into the Hexcore. Once again, he makes his argument and then seems to wilt in the face of doing anything more than that. Jayce ends up fighting that fight in his place but even worse, Viktor doesn't seem to know about or acknowledge that Jayce fights this battle on his behalf, which in turn contributes to Viktor's sense of isolation and not having anyone in his corner, even though Jayce just overthrew the government for him.

Viktor is noted to frequently disappear for long stretches of time, without letting Jayce know where he went. Which is entirely his right as a real person, but given his character's patterns of behavior, it does heavily imply that he's hiding something, perhaps his failing health, from his partner. We know he actively avoids telling Jayce about the full extent of his health issues, given his own lack of surprise at his own prognosis when he collapses and Jayce's utter shock.

Viktor also avoids the spotlight and doesn't partake in the public aspects of promoting Hextech or even seem all that eager to put his name on things he created however, he also notes with despair that no one will remember him after he is gone. This one has always puzzled me a bit, I suppose he wants his inventions to be so groundbreaking they speak for themselves, but he not only makes no effort to attach his name to their work in Hextech, he actively refuses to go on stage even as a silent partner to Jayce to present himself as the co-creator of Hextech. This to me is another symptom of his habit of avoidance: he simply wants people to find their own way to his view, in this case acknowledging his work, without making any effort to persuade or even present himself to them.

But finally, and most salient to the point I'd like to make: Viktor after emerging from the Hex-goop making his greatest avoidance of all by removing himself from his partnership with Jayce, having decided that they have passed the breaking point of their partnership and have no choice but to go their separate ways.

The thing is, from a Doylist angle, this moment is necessary for furthering the plot. I actually think it's a rather clumsy beat in retrospect for how visible the hand of the author is in making it happen, because Jayce doesn't, for example, stop a naked Viktor from departing, which would be a reasonable thing to do under the circumstances when Viktor is clearly in shock, nor does Jayce offer to go with him, which feels particularly out of character given how unhinged Jayce is and his own wedding-vow like promises of devotion only moments before, offering to give up everything he's been working on to be by Viktor's side.

I suppose shock could explain it on both sides, or that Jayce just wanted to go back to how things were, not forge a new path, but regardless, the outcome is that Viktor once again removes himself from a situation he's decided is untenable, rather than asking for, say, some guarantees from Jayce that he is sincere, or negotiating for some concessions from Jayce, or even delivering an ultimatum for what Jayce needs to do to stay by his side.

I suppose you could argue that Hextech weapons was the line, and Viktor is so uncompromising that once it's crossed, that line cannot be uncrossed in his mind, even in the face of Jayce's regrets and desire to make it right by whatever path Viktor sets for him, perhaps reasonable given Jayce has ignored other requests by Viktor up to this point, like not destroying the Hexcore. But this all gets thrown aside when later, Viktor invites Jayce to the commune (if we even believe that's Viktor and not the Hexcore, as I've argued elsewhere, it's all a bit muddy and we can guess at many reasons Viktor left that day, one of which might have been to protect Jayce from the Hexcore and himself).

I bring up the question of how much the Hexcore is controlling Viktor being an active question, because I'm going to undermine my own point here for a moment. I'm arguing that Viktor tends to state his position and then retreat from any sort of compromise or negotiation with other parties, removing himself rather than yielding if he doesn't get his way, but he does persist in trying to make contact with Jayce during his villain arc. I'd argue that insofar as it is Viktor at all, the Hexcore's modifications have given him the confidence for the first time to fight for Jayce, and despite Jayce killing Salo, shooting Viktor, and destroying his robot self, Viktor as the Machine Herald is still pleased to see Jayce (what a simp) and does still seem to want Jayce to come to his way of viewing things. Arguably for the first time, Viktor is persistent in an argument or debate, but he still refuses to budge in what the outcome will be. He wants to persuade Jayce, but he doesn't want to change his position or consider Jayce's side of things at all, maybe because the Hexcore is in control, or maybe because Viktor has always approached academic debates in this way: by refusing to listen to the other side or change his position.

Ok, so this brings me, F I N A L L Y to the point I've been wanting to make:

"Why do you persist, after everything I've done?"

^^ Viktor's genuine confusion about Jayce's persistence.

I think his confusion is, as we've seen if you made it this far, very much in line with his character and this is what I just realized. Viktor doesn't understand why Jayce keeps trying to confront Viktor even though apparently they have opposing views. If Jayce isn't going to come around to Viktor's way of doing things, why are they still even engaging in a confrontation? Why doesn't Jayce just remove himself, the way Viktor would?

In his villain arc, Viktor is more persistent, but he's not more willing to negotiate. If anything, being a villain just gives Viktor the power to not need to avoid people who don't come around to his way of thinking, but to actively, forcefully change their minds against their will. Not by persuasion, or diplomacy, or sophistry. Not by making an argument. But simply like many engineers he thinks that his solution is best and the data will miraculously speak for itself and there's something inherently wrong with people who don't agree with his view.

Machine Herald Viktor firmly believes he's in the right, his mind cannot be changed, it's never been changed in the past (except by Jayce, by the way, when he made the argument for Hextech that seduced Viktor into being his partner in the first place. Once again, Jayce is the exception) so why does Jayce keep fighting?

And I think I'm correct in identifying Viktor's intractability, his unwillingness to accept any view but his own as correct or to hear opposing arguments, as a character flaw because it does get addressed by the end of the story and we see him recognize this and change. He sees Jayce was right, the path he was on was evil, it was going to lead to widespread destruction, not salvation. Viktor sets out to make it right. And once again, he tries to go it alone, without inviting his partner in on the process, and here too we see a flaw addressed: Viktor finally lets Jayce in. He lets Jayce help him and he doesn't run from the difference of positions, or self-isolate in the face of someone who cares for him, or try to solve the problem alone, secure in his incorrect belief that he must do everything alone.

It's a brief scene, but finally at the end, we address these deep character flaws Viktor has been carrying throughout the story of Arcane, and only then can he at least achieve his goal of destroying the Hexcore, with Jayce.