#I meant for this to be like... a few pictures but it's impossible to choose bc this season is just stsg gold

[redrocketpanda]

Favourite stsg moments: JJK S2 Opening

[anon-sect]

picture sources from my Master Frost, Instagram account @mysneakeryt

Alex had heard a rumor around campus of a student with a special power. It was his senior year, and the guy on his second year in college was doing things that should be literally impossible to do. He was really quite curious about it. He asked a ton of questions who the guy was. He eventually got a name, Daniel Rune. Alex got his dorm room number and decided to confirm if the rumor was true.

Alex knocked on Daniel's dorm room door. A tall 6'7" tall athletic jock open the door. "Yes?" He asked him when he opened the door. "I know this might be a strange question, but I have to ask. Are you Daniel Rune?"

Daniel looked at a short 5'10" guy looked at him, asking him a slightly strange question. "I am, but why do you ask?"

"You see, I have heard around campus that you have a special ability to do certain things." Alex spoke, still wondering if the rumors were true.

"Like what?" Daniel asked, knowing full well what he was asking about. "Like turning people into objects or changing people's appearance." Was the reply he got back. Daniel just nodded that it was all true.

Alex wanted to see proof. He definitely didn't want to just believe based off of word of mouth. "I want to see you do it." He requested of him. Daniel invited him in to show proof. "I will show you on one condition, you let me get to choose what I change into any object of my choice." The condition was set. He wanted to see this for himself, so he nodded in agreement to the conditions set by Daniel.

Alex saw Daniel look directly at him. Suddenly, he felt weird. He couldn't move at all. He tried to speak but couldn't open his mouth. He then began to shrink in size, looking upwards with his eyes as Daniel grew giant size. He saw him smiling down at him as he lost more of his size. Then his body began to reshape all on its own, split into two and reshape again, taking on a final form. He was unsure what his final form was, but his vision was limited with very little light.

Daniel examined his work. The guy looked completely like normal shoes. He picked them up off the floor. "You see my ability is true. You have been changed into a pair of shoes. I think I will wear you today, just to see how comfortable you are. In fact, I will not wear any socks at all." He spoke as he put them back on the floor and shoved his feet into them. They felt good as he pressed down on the insoles with his bare feet. The guy made a comfortable pair of adidas sneakers.

Alex wanted to see the ability in person, but never meant that he would be transformed himself. The fact that Daniel was wearing him like a common pair of sneakers made him feel just like an object on his feet. It was painful and hurt almost like a thousand knives as Daniel stood and walked on him. With it being his bare feet, it was more humiliating.

As the day wore on, Daniel's feet began to sweat, going from class to class. Along with the sweat came the slight foot odor form his bare feet. Alex was not liking being a pair of sneakers one bit. The pain was constant over and over. It was a torturous hell. He could slightly hear Daniel chatting with his friends and classmates, laughing and having a good time. There were a few times that Daniel would wiggle his toes and crunching them on his insole face. It was complete foot domination. He so wanted to call out for help, but he knew he lacked the ability to call out for any form of help. He would have to wait till Daniel was done with his day and would hopefully release him.

Daniel returned to his dorm room. He took his shoes off and smelled his feet. There was no foot odor or sweat. He then sniffed his shoes and saw they smelled foul. It was strange that his feet didn't smell of foot odor, but his shoes did. Somehow, the shoes had absorbed his all of his foot sweat and odor, leaving his feet smelling good. He had never had shoes like these. He had thought about releasing the guy after his day was over, but he was starting to change his mind. If these shoes did this for his feet, he might have to keep them longer than expected. "You did a good service to my feet. You did so well, I will keep you a little longer. You might not like that, but you really don't have a choice since you volunteered to be transformed." He placed his shoes under his bed as he prepared to study for his courses. Yet, the thought of wearing his new shoes on the next day were on the fore front of his mind.

THREE WEEKS LATER........

Daniel just came back from the gym. He had worn his favorite pair of shoes. They were so comfortable to wear even at gym sessions. They were still doing an amazing job of keeping his feet dry and smelling fresh. His shoes really reeked of foot odor while his feet were comfortable and smelling great. He had completely forgotten the guy's name if the guy even told him. He was just his shoes now. He had heard that a student had been missing for three weeks. HIs shoes might have been that guy. But since no one knows what he did, no one would be looking his direction. He could keep his shoes for as long as he wanted. There was no need to get rid of his favorite pair of sneakers.

[planetsxmore]

𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘁

new year is approaching and what's better than a 2023 pac reading? - remember that this reading is timeless and is meant for you when you find it . choose pile 1 to 3 which from left to right above - choose the picture by grounding yourself and thinking of the topic - you can choose more than one piles of you'd like - this is a general reading and may or may not resonate - the forms of divination used in this reading are black seed tarot deck cards, intuition, shufflemancy and my personal charms. please ignore the typo errors made if any, while channeling.

your likes and reblogs will be appreciated<3 for more pacs, astrology posts and paid readings; you can visit my masterlist.

have a good day and choose your pile carefully 🤍

© planetsxmore rights reserved 2022

𝓹𝓲����𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓮

𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯'𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂:

cards: the high priestess,3 of Pentacles

2023 will be all about self growth,self clarification and self confidence. this year will help you grow out of your insecurites and self doubts. you'll realize that pleasing the world completely is impossible for anyone to do so - hence you'll grow out of the societal expectations. i saw an image of a butterfly as i channeled this message - you'll understand the reason of your life path or be close to understanding it in 2023. spiritual or religious impact may be present this year. you'll also be able to differentiate between your true well wishers and your fake relationships. you'll embark on a beautiful journey in 2023. pursuing hobbies and interests that make you happy,make you contented. a year of a personal glow up, especially spiritually/emotionally. physical glow up may be there for a few of you as well.

𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯:

card: 2 of swords

ah,well you'll be confused - if you're confused right now about someone or something than be prepared that this may continue next year. if not,then you may develop crushes or meet people that may make you confused about your choices. a sense of confusion - it's like more than one choices would be approaching you or you may like more than 1 person this year - whom you'll choose will depend upon differently for all since this is a general reading. i also feel as though some of y'all may be puzzled as to what love actually means for you,as i said earlier - it's a a year of self clarification - this year is extremely important as by the end of it, you'll know what "exactly" you need or want. as for love, i see a similar vibe here. for some of y'all,you could meet 2 soulmates or a twin flame and a soulmate - that will confuse you as to which one you feel for truly - if you're ever in a situation like this,go for the soulmate (just a personal thought, twin flames are toxic slightly) but ofc at the end it's up to you - so in short,i do see love in the picture of 2023 but it's more so in the form of priorities and confusions - as in more than one choices/crushes.

𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸/𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗱𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯:

card: ace of pentacles

this portion is for the ones that work or study or intend to. a good card to represent the theme -if some of y'all are trying to seek admission or job offers,then this is a huge indication that 2023 will be the year for y'all. you'll be getting more than just one offers (kind of matching the love life vibe somewhat 👀) but unlike the love life,there's no confusion here. you'll be clear about which one you'll want to pursue and you'll go for it. it'll be a huge change for y'all but you'll be happy with it for sure! for those who are already working,i sense a promotion is coming up next year or just something significantly positive - this will boost your professional life. those who are studying, you're either obviously getting promoted into the next class next year - and this class will probably prove to be better than the last. you'll perform better, maybe even get better opportunities for co curricular or have better mentors or advices that you will definitely seek.

𝗮𝗱𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗶𝗻𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻:

card: the world + intuition+ charms

travel could be in the picture. could be long term travel or short term travel, intuitively -for a specific group if y'all, i feel it could be both coming up for you in 2023. most of you it's for recreation while the rest is for work. through the charms,i see that you could have to encounter some people that you hated lately - idk exes or maybe even people that you disliked (not sure if your opinions about them would change or not,since this is a general reading and the situations will be different for all). there will be an ending of a toxic cycle in 2023 for you. i see new beginnings as well. you'll spend more quality time with your family and yourself as well more than your friends or co workers etc. a change in the way you approach the world and perspectives is in the picture as well.

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝗵𝗿𝗮𝘀𝗲𝘀:

divination form: shufflemancy and intuition

lights,gazes, butterflies,3737, spirituality,pollen(?),444,aptitude 🦋

𝓹𝓲𝓵𝓮 𝓽𝔀𝓸

𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯'𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂:

cards: 7 of cups,the sun

this year seems to be a very fast one for you, especially the second half of it for most of you. it seems to be full of opportunities that you may or may not avail - i hope most of y'all do, because this can be life changing. 2023 will help you achieve what you've desired the most,be it physically, emotionally or materialistic-ly. i see that most of y'all by the end of 2023 will be like "this was one of my luckiest year" - of course,as i said - if you "do" avail these opportunities. i see alot of offers coming your way this year. this year may also help you engage in recreation - you can become more social than you are today. exploration will be the main theme of 2023 for you. positive changes coming your way - this seems to be such a beautiful vibe because the sun is card is literally one of the most positive cards in the deck in my opinion. be ready for a rollercoaster year full of happiness. your subconscious manifestations are coming your way - please don't hesitate taking risks this year else you'll miss out on alot.

𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯:

card: 6 of cups

y'all - i haven't done pile 3 or completed your pile but i literally love this pile already -- i just hope it resonates with y'all because it's beautiful! for the people that are already dating,you may be with the same partner in 2023 (unless future energies change) and i see you developing an even stronger bond with this person. you both will fall in love even more. - for some of you, marriage proposals are coming up as well in 2023. i see many people approaching you, crushing on you secretly - but be carefully, just got a specific energy here that you may attract a stalker or someone toxic so just be careful with that. don't trust anyone quickly. for singles,a beautiful relationship is in the picture of 2023. as i said earlier,a year of opportunities - so make sure you avail the good ones. if you'll deny them all,then don't expect a miracle to show up - ofc, you'll need to accept something for a blossoming. such a happening year for y'all - i see that you may be approached by people that you already had a crush on. 6 of cups is indicating "love is in the air" for your 2023 theme. if you're the kind of person who doesn't date or isn't interested in love,then ofc your personal choices are beyond tarot, but you will be approached romantically in 2023 many times,unless you change your energy drastically attracting a different future.

𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸/𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗱𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯:

card: 3 of cups reversed,4 of swords reversed (extra card)

you'll be on your own this year in terms of work/studies. for those who're trying to seek a job or admission, you'll do it on your own. you'll research and work on it on your own - i pulled a card for this specific question as to will you get what you'll try to achieve and you got the 4 of swords reversed. you will definitely get it but with the work needed - a little tiring and you can face slight delays but you'll get what you'll have your eyes on at the end - and that's what matters at the end right? for those who are already in a job,you may take a leap of faith and change your work place - adjusting can be a little difficult but you'll get used to it at the end. you may not receive the help you wished your friends, colleagues or workers may have given you - but perhaps they are inexperienced in the matter itself - for those that are still studying,things will be okay. you may work for a change in your academics and they may work out at the end. your mentors or classmates may not be very helpful -- you'll achieve everything on your own in 2023 (which is a good thing in my opinion)

𝗮𝗱𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗶𝗻𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻:

card: 9 of cups + intuition+ charms

abundance will be approaching you this year. also through the charms,i just got a soda shaped charm and i feel with the 9 of cups - you'll be having alot of food in 2023 or changing something about your preferences with food (this could be for a specific group as well,it doesn't have to be for all) - some of y'all can gain weight easily in 2023, just be careful with that. i see mental relaxation in some way maybe a vacation of some kind or perhaps pursuing something you love - getting one of your wishes fulfilled in 2023 - meeting people who'll end up admiring you or your ways. you may also meet people who may "inspire" you in a way. i also just heard the word "counselling" for someone,it could be applicable in any way.

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝗵𝗿𝗮𝘀𝗲𝘀:

divination form: shufflemancy and intuition

"i am enough",222,trust,crowds,burgers(?), run-around,puzzles, polaroid, pursue(?) 🎫

𝓹𝓲𝓵𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮

𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯'𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂:

cards: 7 of pentacles, knight of swords

a busy 2023 is in your cards. this year will exhauste you but in a good way. it'll be faster than the rest - y'know the time when we're like "how'd this year end so quick?" - that's exactly what you'll be going through. something will keep you busy,but you'll be happy with it. i see that you'll be getting appreciation for your efforts - it's like you'll like working on a particular thing because you may be getting the acknowledgement to fuel you. this work could be anything for different people, maybe even a hobby or studies or your career - but it'll keep you on your toes this year. if you're waiting for something for a long time,this year would help you achieve it quicker than you expected it to be. i also see that you'll become more action oriented in 2023. on a negative note,you could be drained at tom- but tbh,this seems to be a good thing that you'll learn how to handle stress this year. you could mature this year alot. by the end of it, you'll be a more matured person by emotions or work.

𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯:

card: 5 of pentacles,the temperance (extra card)

not bad not super good. love will be there but not the one to woo you off. general crushes and general approaches are there - if you are in a relationship,then it'll be okay - it doesn't seem to break for most of y'all but for some of you,be careful with the differences of opinions with each other. now don't get me wrong,it's not going to be a love-less year,it's just that i'm describing the entire theme with one card. 5 of pentacles is also not the best card to get - you will have your romantic moments, but as i said, you'll be very busy this year too so it's not going to be all about romance. i pulled another card for a little more clarification and it was the temperance that came out - a balance. even if you start dating someone new (which can be possible in 2023) - they will not be the center of your attention in 2023. sure you'll have your romantic moments and dates, but nothing's going to be extremely, extremely special. good thing is that i don't see anything too negative either. ofc - you can change the future that you're attracting at the moment with your energy changes so it isn't set in stone but for me,it's not necessarily a bad thing that romance won't be your "main" focus in 2023. it's a general overlook and so i'm not going in specific details otherwise i'm sure you'll have your specific romantic moments in 2023 too,it's just not very significant in 2023's theme.

𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸/𝘀𝘁𝘂𝗱𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯:

card: queen of swords

Being "in charge" - no matter what circumstances it is,if you're wanting to know how things will go professionally - they'll go very well for most of the year, especially the end. 2023 will be a year where you'll become the "queen of swords" in your own way, regardless of what gender applies to you. You'll be the one who won't take sh*t from anyone especially in terms of your work. If you're trying to seek admission academically or a job somewhere,be assured that if your subconscious energy remains the same - you'll be attracting a very strong future in 2023. You'll be getting a job/admission somewhere,where you set your eyes on in 2023. An ideal place for you - and this place will likely be where you'll be more popular than you are today. Popular in your department,or class or group etc. (Let's hope it's for the good reasons lol 👀) - for those who are already in a job or institution,you'll become more confident and comfortable in that way in 2023. i see that you'll be achieving success in 2023 - progressing better than you were last year. I just heard the word "controlling" - idk how it could apply in any of your situations because it's general y'know. it could mean a new project or phase that you may be in charge of. as little as being a monitor to as big as being the head of the department - for some of you all, promotion is in the picture as well. likely a position where you can take decisions and it makes an impact on all. overall,a good enough year for your professional growth/class if you make your intentions clear from the start.

𝗮𝗱𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗶𝗻𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻:

card: 5 of cups reversed + intuition+ charms

there'll likely be a realization that things that you may have thought would be fruitful for you would not matter to you in 2023 or you'll learn to let go of it - overcoming some kind of addiction in some way or unhealthy attachment - with the help of the charms,i see that you'll likely encounter elderly people in 2023 - you'll have less time for yourself and i also see travelling for academics/work for group of you here. i hear the word "praises" too so some of y'all may be getting praised alot in 2023 in a way. (somewhat matches with the acknowledgement theme) - be careful because i feel that you may encounter someone with an envious energy,who may be jealous of you in some way,so just be careful and try to stay away from people that you know aren't your well wishes - your personal intuition will likely grow in 2023 as well so trust your gut feelings as well. you'll be mentally really active this year (not sure what this could really mean - but it just came through in the reading and i had to type it out)

𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝗵𝗿𝗮𝘀𝗲𝘀:

divination form: shufflemancy and intuition

challenges, success,black eyes(?),rock music,long drives, documents,111,night 🧿

[lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: @lemonandlime22 First of all, I'm sending you good vibes and hugs! I wish you a very happy birthday even through its tomorrow hehe⁽⁠⁽⁠ଘ⁠(⁠ ⁠ˊ⁠ᵕ⁠ˋ⁠ ⁠)⁠ଓ⁠⁾⁠⁾. Now, I know you like Riddle so I wrote a little something for him (initially I had write with Jamil, good thing I asked you abt your fav character) and I hope you like it hehe. As I said before it's kinda cheesy really but I quite liked the result. For reference this is how I pictured Riddle's hair. Guys, everyone go wish them a very happy birthday!!!

"I don't see how that can be considered a gift." Riddle grumbled, softly, quietly, despite his words, the melting expression on his face tells you everything you need to know as you continue combing and styling his beautiful red hair. "We could have a small unbirthday party. We could play croquet and feed the hedgehogs and flamingos or even go to the beach."

But you ignore him, noting the slight flush in his cheeks and the way he shivers whenever you playfully scratch the base of his neck. His disapproving look is funny enough that you almost burst out laughing, but manage to control yourself at the last second. From your point of view, Riddle looks a lot like a kitten, skittish, but very cute and you know he doesn't know it and wouldn't believe it if someone said so.

After all, he has a serious image to maintain.

"It's my birthday," You smile. The hairstyle you've been doing for the last few minutes almost done. "So I can choose my gift, sweetie. And I choose a quiet day where I can rest from our usual chaos and have you by my side, maybe we could play some board games and drink ice tea. I haven't decided yet, but we have time. It's still morning."

Riddle's hair was as soft as silk, your fingers swimming through the perfect locks as you finish the little braids. Through the mirror, you could see the light expression on his face, eyes closed, a smile on his lips, despite dissuading you about not wanting a party, Riddle looked as peaceful as you did at that moment.

The light coming in through the window somehow made him almost ethereal. You pulled back, looking at the reflection of the two of you in the mirror, you had managed to bring out the beauty that emanated from him, he was still the same iron-fisted leader the other students feared but there was something else there. A hidden beauty that maybe only you would be able to notice. You smiled again, when he was present it was impossible not to smile.

"Open your eyes," You encouraged him. The fruit of your labor cheering you up beyond belief. He was so cute you had to control yourself not to hug him tight until he exploded like he was a balloon. "look at the perfection I created!"

There was a second of silence, Riddle's eyes focused on the image in front of him. He moved his head from side to side, finally he smiled. Just as you'd imagine, Riddle felt refreshed and confident. That moment of care and attention meant more than words could express, Riddle took your hand in his, kissing your palm.

"It's like a work of art." He said, getting up from the chair he'd been sitting in and turning to face you. There was a lot in that look; affection, care, but mostly love, you had taught him that rules weren't always important, you had taught him patience and kindness. And he still had a long way to go to improve and be a good boyfriend and friend, but as long as you were there for him, things would work out.

"You are a work of art." He murmured, face slowly approaching yours to place a light kiss on your lips. Smooth as a bird's wings, yet fast enough to leave you wanting more. You smiled at the compliment.

His hands held your face and, contrary to the embarrassment and blush that always dominated him, Riddle covered your face with kisses. And the contact made you laugh with joy, returning the small kisses with eagerness.

In that moment it was just you and your boyfriend, and your hearts beating in sync. And you knew that whatever way you spent that day you didn't care if you just had him by your side the whole time. A special day should be spent with a special person.

[heartfullofleeches]

PLEASDEE PLEASDEE SPOT PLEASDEE CAN SPOT BE CHOSEN PLEASEE PLEASEE ILL DO ANYTHING ILL GIVE U MY FIRSTBORN (I HATE CHILDREN ANYWAYS!!) PLEASERIDIWDJJJSKA *ugly sobs*

Event MasterPost: X

"And the winner is..."

"Spot?"

The rabbit's ear twitches in response to your announcement. Standing close to the stage, he can hear it clear as day, yet it's almost impossible to believe he won.

"Me?" His voice comes barely above a whisper, crackling with the warmth flickering through his heart. Clyde lost the ability to dream long ago, but ever since he's laid eyes on you those little hopes had returned - and this was one of his biggest. He wipes a stray tear from his cheek as he walks on stage. His head hangs low, eyes avoiding contact else he burst into a full breakdown on the spot. He breathes, taking his first step into a hopeful forever.

"E...evening, Master. I know it wasn't on purpose, but thank you for choosing me. I promise to take good care of you."

-

After going over the rules, you join Clyde outside to figure out your next course of action. His ears dip low when he's reminded to return you by the beginning of the year, but he keeps faith for he has the once in a lifetime opportunity to prove to you that you're soul bound. Clyde flushes as he plays with the sleeves of sweaters; something that could be written off by the cold, but you both knew was far from the truth.

"Um, my apartment is just around the corner. If the weather will bother you too much before we get there, you can use my sweater."

"I think I'll be fine. You need it more than me."

Clyde is slightly dejected by your refusal. He'd happily walk through a blizzard if it meant seeing you in something that belonged to him. With how you made him feel he'd probably still be warm all the way home, is advances weren't dashed yet. He had one more trick up his sleeve; one that left him redder than the joly man on the front of his slsweater.

"Oh, well, if you say so, but if you don't mind, can I make a personal request?"

"We can do anything you like, Spot." You smile.

"Then... can I hope your hand?

-

Hand in hand, you walk the night streets alone. Clyde makes the excuse that the weather is getting to him, to get you to stop at a bakery for some hot chocolate. You still hold his hand while you wait in life. Just like a real date. He shuffles closer to you and rests his head on your shoulder whenever someone notices; affectionately stroking the back of your palm as his foot taps against the paneled floor as a way to expel his joy.

After acquiring the beverages, you at least make it to his place. Clyde wishes the walk lasted just a little longer, but he's far more excited to have you in the privacy of his home. The living room is minimalistic in decor. A plastic tree sits on the coffee table with a few gifts displayed at its base. A cup with the cafe's logo rests near it along with other merchandise spread out around the room. There's a picture framed on the wall. One of you and him to celebrate his first meeting.

Clyde scratches the back of his ear. "Sorry for the set up. There's alot I wanted to do for you outside of the holiday, plus we never celebrated Christmas in my house.. least I never did."

He squeezes your hand, the texture of your skin calming him from the stupor he'd put himself in. "A-anyway- The bedroom is behind that door. I'm sure you're tired after the party."

Clyde opens the bedroom door. There's more to it than the living room. A pet snake sleeps soundly in its cage. Posters from the cafe and various video games line the walls. A calendar hands above the bed, certain dates marked with pink marker. The bed itself had recently been fitted with new bedding and a copy of the picture in the rests on the untouched side of the bed. Clyde shoves it in the nightstand drawer before motioning you to the blankets.

"Can you sit down, Master? There's something I've always wanted to do in a scenario like this."

You do as asked. Clyde sits next to you. His hand glides over the sheets before he pauses at your hand. "Is.. it alright if I touch you?"

"Do whatever you need. I know you'd never hurt me."

The bed trembles as his leg drums against its frame. He slowly brings his hands up to your torso, removing the ribbon around you before moving onward to the buttons of your cape. Despite how his body shakes, he unbuttons them with precise adjustment. His lips press into a fine line, and then - he speaks.

"G-good evening, Master. I'm so happy that you've returned home. I missed you during your shift. Did you at least have a good day?"

"Yes."

"That's good, I'm glad. I bought a new lotion I'd like to try on you, but I'll save it for in the morning. For now, I just want you to get comfortable."

He moves so you can lay down, pulling the covers back. You lay out on the other side of the bed, feeling the bed shift as Clyde takes his spot behind you. He cards his fingers through your hair as he snuggles into your warmth; the fluffy comforter enclosing you both in a bubble of protection from the harsh world raging outside the window.

"Merry Christmas." Spot whispers. "I promise I'll give you the same care you've given me. I love you, Y/n."

[batw1nggg]

I mean the idea of Makoto and co.'s plans being morally questionable is kind of interesting. But the story doesn't frame it as such. We the audience are meant to look it as a clear morally good thing. And for me the only way I could possibly look at the Neo World Program in that light is if there was something that made the situation so unique, that standard rehabilitation was impossible. Which kind of makes something like mind control a borderline necessity for Makoto's decision to be presented as squeaky clean as it is.

As for how I personally headcanon Junko mentally reconditioning them, I picture it as a few of them being kidnapped for about a couple days at a time. And being subjected to all kinds of fucked up shit that was partly stolen from the academy's research. A combination of the memory altering technology from Yasuke, powerful hallucinogens created by Seiko, hypnosis derived from Ryota's animation, and so on. Along with isolation, sensory deprivation, physical torture, etc.

I think memory altering could play a huge role in building up resentment towards other members of the class. Rewriting happy memories into negative ones. Which creates a very ugly atmosphere when Junko releases her newly molded Despairs back among their unsuspecting classmates. Plus it could help psychologically shatter the morale of the next ones she reconditions if their own classmates assist in their torture.

I picture each conditioning session being unique to each member of the class. Like for example with Imposter, something heavily centered around the fact that they lack a sense of identity. Playing on their resentment and envy of the rich and power they impersonate. Or Mahiru, being subjected to something akin to what Chisa was in the anime, but with static photography (including crime photos of Natsumi and Sato). And being hypnotized to associate images of violence and cruelty with a sense of joy.

There's lots of great potential for nightmare fuel writing, even with brainwashing applied. Like this one bit of art someone drew of Nagito being made to cut off his arm while Junko was still alive at her command gave me one idea. Imagine her deliberately giving him a more limited form of brainwashing as a cruel mercy. Allowing him to keep his memories mostly intact and be lucid enough to know that him and the others have been brainwashed. But feeling absolutely powerless and horrified when he finds himself acting on a post-hypnotic suggestion to carry out Junko's command to saw off his own arm for her amusement. Even worse, realizing as he stares down at his bleeding stump that on some level the misery and agony he's experiencing feels...right. That this is just how it's meant to be for him.

Also I kinda like the idea of it happening before her death, because it adds another layer to him taking her arm. Nagito feeling that he was owed an arm by her.

...Yeah, maybe I've been hanging around too many dark fanfic circles.

SEEEEE THIIIIIS IS WHAT IM TALKING ABOUTTTT THESE WERE THE KINDS OF IDEAS WE COULDVE HAD GOING ONNNNNNNN ‼️‼️ the brainwashing plot has so much potential to be better there are so many directions to choose theres no reason to not go all out on the nightmare fuel this is danganronpa ‼️‼️

[kingdomvel]

WIP Wednesday

From the castle au of course, I tried to choose something that was not a spoiler.

That morning, when Cody had called and woke Anakin up – just Anakin, because he had not spent the night at the castle, Obi-Wan was out for a couple of days to visit some family – and told him that Aayla couldn’t come to the castle and asked if he could be the guide instead, Anakin – who had heard Aayla give the tour so many times he knew everything by heart by now - had agreed on one condition: don’t tell Obi-Wan. He was meant to arrive at some point today and, if he arrived before the castle closed, Anakin didn’t want him to listen to him give the tour. He knows him, and he will surely tease him and be absolutely obnoxious about it. Cody had agreed to it so why, pray why, Obi-Wan is smiling at him from the back of one of his last groups, close to the door.

Anakin stutters when his eyes fall on him for the first time but he recovers and continues with his explanation fast, his eyes drifting to Obi-Wan more than he would like them to, it’s impossible to not get distracted by him.

“Are there any recent pictures of the family?” one of the visitors asks. A woman in her late fifties, there is a group of them. Anakin’s eyes flicker back to Obi-Wan before settling on her.

“Yes, if you pay attention there are a few pictures of the Count on the rooms.”

“How old is he?”

“He is thirty-eight.”

“Is he handsome?” another of woman asks, her and her friends snicker like school girls. Anakin’s gaze settles on Obi-Wan. He is looking at him with an eyebrow raised, waiting for his answer.

“He is the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.” Anakin answers truthfully. Obi-Wan smiles. The women let out a collective ooh.

“Is he married?” the first woman asks, “I have a daughter I need to marry.” She says as her friends laugh. Anakin’s gaze zeroes back on her, his smile completely gone.

“No, but I’m completely sure he won’t be interested in your daughter, he has better taste.” That shuts the women up completely and Anakin leads the group to the next room, not without first locking eyes with Obi-Wan and receiving a snort from the man.

[summer-nights19]

I'm not her part 3

Someone requested part 3 so I decided to pick this up again lmao

f! Haruka Tenoh and f! Ko Seiya x gn! reader (angst)

For the past few weeks, you'd just been moping around at Rei's place. You'd found yourself a job working at her shrine a few days after you arrived there, and, though you meant to find yourself some proper accommodation, the thought of living alone seemed almost impossible. You knew that, without Rei there to encourage you and give you strength, you'd fall apart all over again, and the pain of having lost her would grow sharper and sharper until it was impossible to ignore. When you weren't working, you spent the majority of your time in the guest bedroom you were staying in, lying on the bed and idly scrolling through social media while you tried not to cry. Nothing seemed enjoyable or worth doing anymore- you'd tried many times to picture what life had been like before Haruka, and what kinds of things you'd done, but all you saw was blank emptiness.

Late one Saturday morning, as you were staring at the ceiling while remembering your life with her, Rei burst into the room. She looked serious.

"I know that breakups are hard, Y/N, but you can't just decide to completely bring your life to a stop because of her. Don't give her that much power over you,"

You looked at Rei, trying as hard as you could to mask your annoyance. While you appreciated her greatly, she simply didn't get it.

"Rei, I'm not choosing to feel this way. And I've just lost my entire world. How do you want me to react ? Do you expect me to shrug my shoulders and move on ? God, I swear you just don't-"

"I never said that, Y/N. Moving on, however, is a choice. It starts with your actions and your attitude. That's why you're coming out with the rest of the girls and I today,"

You opened your mouth to protest

"I don't want to hear it. I'm not giving you a choice. Now get up and put your clothes on,"

Grumbling, you got up and went to the bathroom to get ready. You knew there was no arguing with Rei when she got like this. Maybe she was right, and seeing your friends would lift your spirits. You sighed as you threw on a hoodie and baggy tracksuit bottoms. You really didn't have the energy for this.

"Y/N, are you ready ?" Rei called from outside

"Yeah, I'm coming,"

***

As the afternoon passed, it became increasingly clear that maybe Rei had been right- despite your initial reluctance, it had been the best day in a while. There were even moments, when you roamed the shops and chatted with Mako, Mina and Usagi, that made you feel like nothing had changed. They were fleeting, but precious nonetheless.

"So Y/N... I bought tickets for all of us to see three lights tonight. I know that maybe with the whole Haruka thing you don't feel like coming tonight, but they're only in Japan for this week," Mina looked at you with pleading eyes.

"Remind me... which group is three lights again ?" You asked. You doubted you'd be interested.

With stars in her eyes, Mina took a journal out of her bag and shoved it in front of your face. You took it, rolling your eyes slightly. It was full of cut outs from magazine articles and photographs. You let your gaze rest on the woman in the middle. She had long, dark hair and was very toned. What really struck you were her eyes- there was something haunting about them, something that demanded your attention.

You could feel yourself getting a little hot.

"Ok, fine. Let's go see three lights," you said before you'd even thought about it," Mina and Mako cheered and hugged you

"I take it seeing how hot Seyia is changed your mind. I can't blame you, and she's probably even more attractive in the flesh !" Mako exclaimed, grinning at you.

"No, I just want to listen to some music," you said, feeling your face grow hot

"Uhuh yea sure thing," Mina said, giggling. "Anyway, we should catch the next bus to the stadium to make sure we get there on time,"

***

You got there and found your seats, all with around 30 minutes to spare.

"Why are we so absurdly early ? We could have caught the next bus," you said as you took your seat next to Ami. Waiting around like this was making you anxious in a way you couldn't explain.

"Well, we needed to make sure. Also, maybe three lights will notice us if we get here early... they might even ask us out on dates," Mina replied, her eyes going dreamy.

"Yeah whatever. I'll get you some concert snacks," you said, standing up and heading out before the others even had a chance to reply.

You wondered around the circumference of the stadium, confused. The sign said you could get snacks around here, but you couldn't seem to find a stall. You saw some guys in suits crowding around a door not too far away from you.

"That must be backstage," you thought to yourself "Which means that this one is the snack stall,". You opened the door a few paces away from the first door and went in.

The sent of musky perfume hit you as soon as you stepped in. You looked around and realised you'd made a terrible mistake. This was backstage, as evidenced by all the clothes and makeup and mirrors scattered around.

That, and the fact that Ko Seiya was standing with the back to you, tying the back of her top in front of a mirror. She turned around, the suspicion on her face quickly replaced by amusement when she met your gaze.

"Well well, what are you doing here all alone ?" She asked, the hint of a smile on her lips.

"This is really embarrassing, but I entered the wrong door. Really sorry, I'll get goi-"

"No. I didn't tell you to leave," you turned back around immediately. Seiya continued.

"Keep me company instead. You look like you could be fun to play with,". She ran her hand from your cheek down to your chest and rested it there. You swallowed. You knew this was forbidden, that you could never truly be with her, that you didn't even know her, that your heart still belonged to Haruka... yet, none of that seemed to matter as she slipped her hands under your shirt and took it off. You wrapped your arms around her, kissing her passionately as you unhooked the back of her top. Gradually, her lips started to move down your neck, leaving a trail of small bites and hickeys as her fingers toyed with your nipples. You let out a loud moan.

"That's right, babe. Don't hold back, let the entire world know that you're my little sex toy," your breath hitched as she started to take off your trousers, running her fingers along the waistline of your underwear and snapping it against your hips. A loud buzzer sounded, breaking you out of your trance. Seyia pulled away from you and smirked.

"I'm on now, but would you be good for me and wait here until the concert finishes ? I'm not done with you yet, sweetheart,"

You nodded, your eyes wide as Seiya left, giving your ass one last smack before walking away.

You knew it would all go to shit. You knew that it was just for one night, that tomorrow reality would come crushing down on you again.

And yet, you couldn't help but hope.

Masterlist

[orions-tears]

Aerophobia - Ominis Gaunt

Themes: Fluff, cursing

Summary: You're scared of flying and Ominis can fix that (picture Sam the Onion Man from holes when you read that)

"No. Absolutely not."

You fold your arms and step back, shaking your head. You don't know how the brooms work but there's no way they're safe. Madam Kogawa sighs and sets the broom back in its cabinet. 

"(Y/N), it is important for you to learn how to fly. All students learn in their first-year."

You shake your head again. Your feet are not meant to leave the ground. Why is flying that important anyway? There's roads, right? Walking suits you just fine. You hear Madam Kogawa sigh again as she walks back to her office. You feel bad for letting her down but you're never getting on a broom. You start walking back to your common room until you notice Ominis walking towards the greenhouse. You run up behind him and poke him in the sides. He turns around and looks at you, barely reacting.

He laughs and smiles at you. "Hello, (Y/N)."

You put your hands on your hips and frown. "Really? Nothing?"

He laughs again and taps his temple. "I'm blind, (Y/N), not deaf. I can hear your shoes on the stone."

You stare off into the distance for a second and sigh, looking at the floor. "Honestly, I didn't think about that."

He reaches out and lays a hand on your arm. You look up and can tell he's holding back a smile.

"How was flying class?" he asks, turning around and walking to the greenhouse again.

You follow him and shrug, sighing. "Impossible. I refuse to get on a broom."

He tilts his head and turns back to you. "Why's that? Flying is amazing."

You stare at him for a second and laugh. "What? No offense, you enjoy flying?  You?"

He nods, walking down the stairs of the greenhouse enterance. "I'd choose flying over walking any day."

He stops at the bottom of the stairs and turns to you. "I can help if you want. I understand if you don't trust my expertise, but I'm very good. Not better than Imelda, but better than Sebastian and I think that's saying something."

You laugh and punch him in the arm a big. "Don't be mean to Sebastian, he's good. I think. And I think the only thing I'll fly on is a Hippogriff so unless you can fly that, I'm sure I'm helpless."

He scratches his head for a second. "A hippogriff? I could try, if you have one."

You stare at him, blinking for a few seconds. Grabbing his arm, you drag him back up the stairs and out to the beasts classroom. You call Highwing and when she lands, Ominis stands behind you, shock on his face.

"I didn't think you actually had one...I've never met a hippogriff."

You explain to him what Poppy had told you about introducing yourself to Highwing. Ominis slowly walks over and bows to her. He turns his head to the side, listening to see if she bows back. She sniffs at him and bows. He stands slowly and reaches out.  She nudges her head into his hands and he jumps back with a yelp. You laugh and walk over, petting her. You gently grab his hand and lay it on her neck.

"This is Highwing. Pretty sure she likes you."

He smiles and grabs your hand. "I can help with this. Can we fly with her?"

You nod to Highwing and she kneels down on her front legs. Ominis feels down to her back and climbs on, holding his hand out. You stare at him and kick the ground lightly. He frowns and leans towards you, reaching for you. You know he wants to help and you want him to help but staring at the opportunity is terrifying. Your legs feel like jelly but you take his hand. He gently pulls you toward Highwing and helps you on. As she stands you wrap your arms around Ominis tightly, shutting your eyes. You hear him laugh a little. He puts a hand on yours and turns around just slightly.

"Do you trust me?"

You open one eye and look at him. "Promise you won't let me fall?"

He smiles and nods. "Promise."

You sigh and agree, hugging him tighter. Highwing takes off as you yell in surprise. You hear him cheer and he grabs your arm.

"You're my eyes, (Y/N)!" he cheers.

You open your eyes slowly. You look at the ground far, far below and feel your heart drop. You look at Ominis and he's grinning, hands in the air.

"Sh-Shouldn't you be holding on?!" you yell at him, pulling on his robe.

He puts a hand down on Highwing and another on your knee. "You're right! Need to hold on if we're going down, huh?!"

Your eyes widen as he instructs Highwing to descend. Her wings fold in as the three of you shoot toward the ground.

You scream and grab tightly onto Ominis' robe. "Shit shit shit shit shit!!"

Highwing pulls up just before the ground and Ominis laughs, grabbing onto your arm. He's having the time of his life and you love how happy he is but all you can focus on it how easy it would be to fall off and die. You look down at the ground again, still holding onto his robe, and think. You haven't fallen yet. If Ominis can do this, you can to. Right? You feel a smile growing on your face and look up as you fly around the Ravenclaw Tower. This is actually...kind of amazing?

You lean into Ominis for the rest of the flight, slowly growing to enjoy your time riding Highwing. When you land by the beasts classroom, you jump off, laughing. Ominis follows and pulls out his wand.

"Well?" he asks, smiling.

You hold your hands behind your back and look at him. "Okay, maybe...it was a bit fun. I won't be getting on a broom though."

He sighs and shakes his head. "You will one day, I know it. Maybe tomorrow we'll try a broom."

"No. Absolutely not," you reply, laughing. "Well...maybe if you can beat me to the greenhouse."

You start sprinting towards the castle, hearing Ominis scoff behind you. You turn around and watch him run after you. You turn back around and burst through the front doors. As fun as it was, you still choose walking over flying any day.

Tag list!

Let me know if you want to be added or removed! Also please let me know if it's to a specific fic or all of them :)

@blueberrydinosaur @kuukimeioo @sometimesidreamthaticanlevatate @tubble-wubble @thenerdysimp @lonadane

[hey-lethallan]

Starting my little question rounds again, but this time I'm asking about people's Rooks! And since I don't really know much about anyone's anything (been avoiding spoilers like the plague), I'll just start with the basics:

Who is your Rook? What class did you pick for them and why? How did they end up with the background you choose? Please do add a picture!

Bonus question: Got any little "fun facts" about them? :3c

Yay I'm glad!! I love your questions! even tho I'm really bad at answering in a timely manner lmao

My Rook is Juniper! Grey Warden, elf, mage, non-binary (of the "I care a lot about my gender identity and I have all the feelings" variety), 28 years old.

I picked mage because I'm a basic bitch who loves mages, and also because I really, really wanted to try orb+dagger combat asap. Now I've unfortunately ruined all other fantasy games for all time because orb+dagger is the most fun I've ever had in any video game ever! Juniper is a flashy, stabby, zoomy killing machine!

I went with the Grey Warden background for a few reasons. First of all I'm Warden trash so the moment I learned it was gonna be an option I made up my mind. Second, after the Mourn Watch background (you can't beat being a mysterious crypt baby!), it's the one that seemed the most interesting to me. I enjoy a simple, straight-forward heroic idiot kind of narrative/character and it just slotted right in. Juniper has one single goal in life which is to prevent as many innocent deaths as humanly possible, plus a few extra. Orders, public opinion, impossible odds, all that stuff will not get in their way! The Grey Warden background just made my brain worms worm away like nothing else 😂

The in-universe reason Juniper is a Warden is layered. They were born and raised in the Anderfels, so they grew up with the Wardens being a pretty Big Deal™ even if the location of their village meant they didn't see or need Warden help very often (or ever, really). Then after leaving home they got to see some Warden action first-hand and it just lit a spark in their mind, so with nowhere else to go they decided to go to Weisshaupt and become a Legendary Hero From The Stories themself. Of course it wasn't that easy but I can elaborate on that some other time !

FUN FACTS: - Juniper's go-to snack/comfort food/packed lunch/anything is a ham-and-cheese sandwich. They also (seemingly) never get tired of it so someone (Lucanis, Emmrich, Harding) usually has to remind them that other foods do exist because they'll just default to it whenever they're hungry otherwise. (Neve understands) - Despite being a mage, Juniper knows basically jack shit about the Fade, demons, enchantments, spells, whatever. Their magic is about 90% intuition-based and most of the training they've received has been very "this is how you kill darkspawn before they kill you" centric (with a little "yeah and avoid demon possession please" aside). It's not even that they're not interested, they just keep putting it off for Future Juniper (The One Who Isn't In The Middle Of Something All The Time). - Juniper is Andrastean (a pretty casual one but still), and gets mildly annoyed whenever someone assumes they must be in the middle of some crisis of faith right now because of the elven gods. - They can't remember exactly when their birthday is.

[ko-existing]

hey ko how are you i need to ask can i practice the culture of tibet or at least wear the clothes i am starting to fall in love with it but i do not want to disrespect nor appropriate it

in what way do you want to practise it? (genuinely asking) , maybe it's my horrible understanding of the english language but what is meant by practicing a culture?

2. there's nothing wrong with wearing our traditional clothes, finding good quality ones that last a while & wearing it correctly is a different thing. I would've said getting authentic pieces is more recommended because you're also supporting them and authentic items are always better but since I started living in europe, i realized how difficult it is to find any clothes online. If you don't have relatives or friends in Tibet or generally in China who can take a trip and buy it directly, it's even more difficult.

3. There are a few good stores on taobao that sell traditional and modern/casual versions of the chuba/chupa dress, skirts, jackets & coats

4. Tiny heads up, there are a few different versions, but one thing is (usually) the same— married women wear a striped apron over their chupas. If you're not married, you might want to choose a non-striped version😄

5. Jewelry and incense are an easy find abroad (online), there's so much.

6. based on my numerous headaches related to chubas, It's impossible to wear a thick chuba coat in europe💔, it's never cold enough and it keeps you so warm it's like you're baking which is perfect in the mountains, catastrophic in germany.. i usually stick to jewelry like dzi necklaces or a turquoise earring

i included pictures of a turquoise earring, married striped apron, heavy coats, casual & "formal" wear (formal outside of Tibet)

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

2023 Movie Journey #1: A Man Called Otto

a man called otto. i am so deeply conflicted about this movie. i watched it back in january and i’m still not sure what i think, because i both think that it was a good movie and that i never want to see it again. 

this is gonna be spoiler filled, just fyi. i cannot explain my feelings on this one without laying out why the plot was the problem for me--and if you only saw a trailer, you may be as unaware of the plot as i was going in. (i know it’s also a book, but i’ve never read it.) 

basically, the trailer shows us grumpy otto, who misses his wife and hates people, and some new neighbors who move in and change everything. there is also a cat lurking around him. that part was especially noted by me, a person who has unofficially adopted a half-dozen neighborhood cats in the last few years. the trailer portrays his story as a hopeful one, the kind of curmudgeon-forced-into-happiness movie i would expect from tom hanks.

and some parts of what i assumed from the trailer turned out to be true. they’re not lying, exactly, in what they choose to show. but the trailer (at least the one i saw) is really selective in what it shows--so carefully leaving out other things that for me, just because the scenes in the trailer are IN the movie, doesn’t mean the movie i saw was the one they advertised.

i mean, this is a tom hanks movie, so it has an uplifting message. otto becomes less grumpy, he lets people back in his life, he starts to live despite his wife being dead. those parts are accurate. but they leave out a lot, for good and for bad.

tw for nonspecific mentions of suicide attempts and death.

grumpy otto, we learn as the movie opens, doesn’t just miss his wife. he is determined to join her. he starts the movie by failing at suicide. then he meets his new neighbors, and the movie turns into what feels like it’s supposed to be a dark sort of comedy, where he keeps trying to kill himself in different ways, and is constantly interrupted/postponed by his new neighbors, who have no idea he’s suicidal and are just accidentally always annoying him. until he slowly, eventually opens up. 

that part of the plot is pretty predictable, but juxtaposed with the constant ‘tom hanks trying to die’ that i was NOT prepared for, i was really freaked out. it made it impossible for me to totally enjoy the parts that were meant to be heartwarming. 

the movie didn’t win me over until otto’s first real emotional breakthrough of treating someone decently comes with a young man who had known and loved otto’s late wife when she was his teacher. he’s trans, and comes to otto when his family kicks him out, and the movie’s touching moments didn’t make me cry until that character showed up. he is the real start of otto building a new found family, and i loved that. 

there’s also a storyline that’s rewarding in the end, about a man otto was friends with before his life fell apart--that actor did a great job with the small space he was given, genuinely stole my heart. and the mom who is the driving force in the family that won’t let otto get away, otto’s relationship with her is great too, especially as it develops later. him teaching her to drive and giving her the most loving angry lecture i’ve ever heard made me genuinely wish somebody like that had scolded me into driving when i needed it, too. 

throughout the movie, we learn about otto’s life before we met him, in flashbacks where young otto is played by tom hank’s actual son. that part was cool. it allows us to know his wife, and what they went through together, and tbh does a decent job of filling out the picture when that can often fall flat as a method. and rita wilson sings the song that’s a major theme in the movie, which is neat.

but then, at the end of the movie, once we know all about otto and he’s happy and loved...HE FREAKING DIES. i do not need to see tom hanks die! who ever needs to see tom hanks die?? instead of being an uplifting movie about a man rebuilding his life, it’s a bittersweet movie about a man who brings his life to a close and passes on what he has to his new loved ones. 

and i can understand how maybe that is an uplifting movie for other people, somehow. i wondered as i came home that day if maybe it was a movie meant for those otto’s age, if maybe being in a place where you think more about death would make the movie more relatable than it was for me--there were certainly a number of jokes my packed theater of primarily older folks laughed at that just left me going ‘huh?’ (about car brands, or The Youngsters And Their Technology). maybe i was just oversensitive watching it.

but it also left me wondering how tom hanks and rita wilson are doing since they had covid--what they went through individually and as a couple, as parents of grown children, as older people...if that experience had them thinking about when one of them goes first, or about the end of their lives in general. about their future. 

so i’m really left with mixed feelings on this one, because it was not bad at all, for what it was. but i wish i had been warned going in that it was essentially one long movie about death--the mourning of it, the wishing for it, the attempting it, the dealing with it. it was so comedic and so not funny at all, all at once, and it just ended so sadly. again, i know it was meant to be uplifting in its way and thus more bittersweet than depressing, but i cried so hard when he died, i just didn’t enjoy that. 

also, when it comes to things i did not enjoy, there’s a jumpscare gunshot i really could’ve done without, and a supposedly-funny scene that felt like cat abuse and another where the cat looks dead but is ‘just’ frozen and later revived. plus the fact that otto dies and his cat is just...silently right there with him, until he’s found the next day, breaks my whole fucking heart. 

anyway, yeah. i don’t know if i recommend this one. ymmv. maybe everybody else loved it! maybe if you haven’t seen it yet and watch it, you’ll love it. (at least if you read this, you’ll be more prepared than i was. and there are good parts.) but it left me feeling sad and weird and like yeah okay death is inevitable but i didn’t need a movie about it quite like this. so i don’t think i’ll ever watch it again.

[royalnugget42]

Stark White Rage

A Resident Evil VIII fic rewrite, in honor of the Rose DLC.

Set after the finale of RE8. Ethan’s regenerative abilities allow him to survive, but only barely. He gets found by the BSAA, who conveniently forget to report this to his family.

TW: Graphic depictions of violence, Clinical trauma, Nightmares, Dismemberment

____________________________________________

Why the color white? Surely it took time to maintain such a stark and blinding color, and for what? Just so he could see in perfect detail how his blood looked as it dried into the cracks they couldn’t clean? It just looked red, in darker and darker shades as it flaked and peeled and faded.

He could still picture his little girl. His Rose, curled up in that pale pink blankie and clutching…what was it? A stuffed animal? His hand? Something that brought her comfort, to keep her calm and happy and safe. In his daydreams she was safe, clutching his hands and babbling at him. In his nightmares she cried.

“Subject 1, series F,” the robotic voice said, signaling the arrival of one of the handlers. They wouldn’t tell him if he had a name. They didn’t really talk to him at all unless they were running a test.

Still, he called out a hello. It was only polite. Maybe if he tried enough times they would return the favor.

He didn’t get an answer this time, but one of the handlers actually came up to the glass wall today.

“Good morning, series F,” he said.

“Is it morning? Couldn’t tell.”

His question wasn’t graced with an answer as usual. A robotic voice listed off the contents of his breakfast. Usually there was a serving each of fruit, bread, and protein. Today there was a dish of peaches, some toast, and a few thin slices of turkey. Pretty standard fare, aside from the patches of fluorescent blue mold.

At his confused look the man reluctantly explained, if only to get him to eat it. “We’re running a new series of tests. You’ve been consistent to a statistically significant level with the other molds, so we’re advancing our studies.”

The man who was just called series F just sighed. Foods with white and green mold were what he was used to, and he wasn’t thrilled about a change in his diet. Change meant they had to examine him, and that usually meant dismembering him and timing the recovery. It hurt every time, but it hurt more when he realized he was getting bored of it.

“Did you know humans will choose pain over boredom?” one of the surgeons had asked as he dug around for yet another vital organ. “You aren’t human, of course, but I have to wonder what you’d pick given the chance.”

Series F hadn’t responded. His vocal chords were still regenerating, which kept him from screaming. It wasn’t like he needed to breathe, but he let a gust of air in just for a distraction. As he felt gloved hands close around his liver, he stretched the broken skin of his lips in a soundless yawn. Partly because it felt good and partly because he wanted to make a point.

The surgeon had just laughed. “Right, don’t suppose it would produce any meaningful results. You’re already too bored of pain for the procedure to work.”

He poked idly at the blue mold now gracing his plate. They had tried to give him normal, fresh food in the early days, before they realized he literally couldn’t stomach it. The walls would always display some stain from the latest meal. Apparently food only tasted good to him if it was rotten.

Now they were giving him new mold. Did he do something wrong, or was this just another in a long line of attempts to replicate his state? They talked about it sometimes when they thought he was sleeping, how apparently he was the first nonviolent strain, but whatever made him nonviolent was impossible to reproduce with the other subjects.

“His regenerative abilities are off the charts, more powerful than we’ve ever seen.” The voices were muffled and distant, like he was dreaming. Funny how he could hear them even on the other side of the facility. Maybe that was just another ability he had.

“Even so, he’s hardly an asset if he can’t replicate.”

“There’s no proof yet—“

“There’s a lack of evidence, that’s all the proof we’re going to get. Whether he’s incapable, or doesn’t know how, or just chooses not to none of that makes a difference. The result is the same.”

The next few sentences were drowned out by the sudden shuffle of papers. “—take this project in a new direction, we need to make some progress here.”

“With all due respect, isn’t he more effective as an asset if he’s nonviolent? Introducing this mold could—“

“He’s only effective if we can reproduce his results. If we can even get a fraction of his regenerative power into one of our earlier subjects he could give the whole project exactly the boost it needs.”

He ate the blue mold. What else was he going to do? Starving was even more boring than the surgeries. It hurt worse than knives in his chest.

Rose was in his dreams again. Somehow she seemed closer, less hazy. In this dream she was in a crib, and he rocked it back and forth. She burbled a bit. He knew she had thrown up earlier, and they were worried of course but no more than is normal for two new parents.

His wife called to him from the kitchen, and he actually heard her voice. It was distorted but it was a real memory he was sure of it. Something about dinner being ready…she called his name but it was hard to make out. His name…his…his name…

The robotic lady greeted him the next time they decided was morning. “Subject 1, Series F,” she intoned. That wasn’t his name though.

——

It took nearly a week of the new mold for the little girl to appear. The surgeons and researchers didn’t acknowledge her. He asked who she was, but they didn’t answer, just added hallucinations to his list of symptoms.

“—just visual hallucinations so far. It’s unclear whether this an effect of the E strain in his diet, or the stress of change. We are increasing the sample size to further examine any correlative properties,” one said in an audio log. “So far his abilities such as regeneration and replication have remained unchanged.”

Another muttered darkly, “If he remains unchanged for much longer they’re probably going to scrap the whole series. Provided they can figure out how to get rid of the thing.”

The little girl didn’t do very much. She always ran away when he made eye contact, but he could feel her watching him all the time. During one of the surgeries she leaned over the bed and touched him. Her hands were cold and clammy, and slightly damp like she’d just climbed out of the water. They were testing his hands, one of their favorite places to examine.

He didn’t look at her, but he felt it as she moved down the table to grip what was left of his palm. He flexed, trying to comfort her. From what he’d seen she couldn’t be more than ten, and he doubted this was a pleasant sight. The doctors kept writing down that she was just a hallucination, but she felt real enough as he desperately tried to hold her little hand, torn ligaments screaming in pain.

She seemed to understand, and guided his fingers into a fist around hers. Whatever or whoever she was, it felt nice to not be so alone.

“Series F has recently developed more alertness during the surgeries, reminiscent of his chaotic behavior in the early trials.”

The next time he looked at the little girl she giggled as she darted away, and he caught a better look at her. Her hair was long and black. It left wet spots on the white floors.

——

His next dream was not of Rose. The sheets in his hands were soft and warm, bathed in the sunlight filtering through the curtains. It smelled like cinnamon.

“We have to get up soon,” he heard himself say.

The woman next to him groaned and blinked. She was beautiful, even more so because she loved him.

“We have a few more moments left.” She pulled him down and kissed him. They were on their honeymoon, after all.

You have to remember this, Ethan.

——

The researchers were shocked of course, but handled it with their usual measured logic. A change as abrupt as this was bound to entail many drastic changes, and the increased aggression was hardly unheard of in previous cases.

He screamed at them, begged them to tell him where his family was. He knew his name now, and if he had a name that meant he was a person, at least somewhat. You couldn’t treat people like this, couldn’t cut a person up against their will and starve them and drown them. How long had it been? In what fucked up world did he now live where this was okay?

“Where’s Rose?” he shouted as they brought his meal. “Where’s my wife? I know they’re real, please let me see them! Please I need my family!”

He wished they would cut out his vocal chords again, at least so he could regrow them to be less sore.

“They don’t like it when you yell,” the little girl whispered.

Ever since the last dream she’d started talking. Only for a short amount of time before she disappeared again.

“Good,” he replied. “I hope they get annoyed enough to actually do something about it.”

She just hummed to herself. It was one of the songs he’d been trying to slowly teach her.

The scientists were wrong. They had to be, she was much too real to be a hallucination. She remembered all their conversations, and she was even teaching him new things, stories and songs.

“Who are you?” he’d finally managed to ask.

“I’m your daughter,” she had said proudly,” which makes you my daddy!”

This girl wasn’t Rose of course. The real Rose was probably more grown up now, but she had blond hair, and bright blue eyes like his.

Her name was Evelyn. The visits came faster after mealtimes, like she was imprinted in the blue mold that came with his food. He could imagine her sailing on it like a little raft, all through his bloodstream until she got to his brain.

She was his daughter but not…she was older than him. How could his daughter be older than him?

“It’s weird,” she said. “It’s like you formed from nothing.”

“You didn’t make me?”

“Not really. I tried to, but you can’t make your own parents, that’s not how it works. I tried to make you into my dad, but then you and mom killed me.”

He didn’t remember doing that, but he apologized anyway.

“It’s ok, I think you were right to. I wasn’t being a very good girl. I hurt a lot of people, so it only makes sense that my daddy would have to come and put me on time out.”

“So I was born so you could have a dad?”

“I think you were born so you could have yourself. You eat yourself every day and you’re sustained by it. You don’t need family to keep you alive, you’re strong enough on your own. That’s why you’re the dad.”

He didn’t feel very strong, but that was hardly new. Maybe if he were stronger he could get out of here. He imagined it; going home to his wife and daughter, bringing Evelyn to meet them. He’d punch straight through solid stone, grind the awful white walls to dust with his bare, solid hands.

But he was still so human. He had the strength to punch a stone, sure, but it would break all the bones in his hand, and send incapacitating pain through his limbs. His hands might be able to regrow, but it was so slow and painful as to render him completely helpless.

Evelyn told him to wait. He was getting stronger, she told him, and one day he’d be strong enough to carry them home.

“Do you still want to hurt people?” he asked her after a late night story. It was one about an evil house in a swamp, full of monsters and madness. They had told it together, echoing each other as if reading off imaginary pages.

“I don’t know, I don’t think so.” She studied her own hands. Every night he brushed her hair and tried to dry her off, and little by little she was sniffling less, and speaking clearer. “Something about you makes me nicer I think. I didn’t really want to hurt anyone before, it was just what happened sometimes when I wanted to make more family. I was so lonely…”

“But we’re not alone anymore, are we Evelyn?”

“No.” She smiled up at him.

——

He dreamt of a kitchen table, where he ate the most delicious food.

“Go on, eat some more, you’re practically skin and bones!” a woman chided. She offered him more, and he only managed to refuse her once.

“Gotta keep up those nice strong muscles huh?” Presumably it was her husband speaking, while inclining his head meaningfully at the younger man across the table, playing some game on his phone.

It was peaceful, and nostalgic in a way he couldn’t put a name to. Morning light on the table highlighted a little spot of grease, and crumbs littered the floor around their chairs. It was messy, but not unusually so, just enough that you knew there were people living and breathing there. There were stains from accidental spills and scuff marks from chair on the hardwood floor.

“You have to go back soon, son,” the older man said gravely. “Give ‘em hell when you do, and we’ll be right with you.”

He nodded to the family before him, a treasure to be remembered by no one.

“No one else will fight for us anymore. If nothing else, remember us. Keep this with you, something those bastards can never take away,” Zoe said. Ethan swore he would remember her. He would remember everyone.

The man’s name was Jack, and his wife was Marguerite, and their two kids were Lucas and Zoe.

——

“I’m sorry,” Evelyn cried, sobbing helplessly into his arms.

She told him terrible things, and in return he gave her hope, he relayed memories, and he told stories of how they were when they were alive.

Evelyn told him how she filled a woman’s mind with crawling things. In return, Ethan told her how that woman used to make her famous stews, and how she had always wanted a bed and breakfast. A man was stretched and warped into a facsimile of himself. That man was a kind soul, who took in a little girl one rainy night in Louisiana.

“I didn’t know what I was doing,” she cried. “I didn’t know what it meant.”

Ethan didn’t blame her though. Her creators understood her nature, they were the ones who should’ve been more careful. Is a hurricane evil? Or is it just acting according to its nature?

“Storms break away at a shoreline. And children break things without knowing why,” he said. He felt a rush of joy as her crying eased. “You were a child and you were hurting. It’s their fault for giving those gifts to a newborn.”

The scientists still didn’t know why he didn’t fight back, didn’t even try to give his gift to someone else. He’d never wanted to make more of his family the way she did.

“The mold makes all subjects violent, and all mold wants to replicate. It’s the same way it occurs in nature, taking control of the host and finding optimal conditions for reproduction.”

But Ethan knew better now. The mold didn’t take over his mind, or Evelyn’s. Maybe her strain took over the others, made them do things they wouldn't ordinarily do, but that was just because his daughter was very strong. It didn’t replace Evelyn though, she replaced it.

He just didn’t need to replicate. He wasn’t alone. He had all the family he could ask for, somewhere beyond these walls.

When sleep took him again, he started to dream of monsters. They looked down on him and hurt him, but it wasn’t some biological need making them do it. It was just regular human cruelty, fostered and fed by the belief that they were better. That they had earned the right to do these things, or that they had no other choice.

He dreamt of a castle, and a village where wolves ran free. The lady of the house had hands like knives, and she laughed as her many-legged daughters crawled all over him.

There was a dollhouse in a forest of mist. The small hands of ceramic babies scraped against his face, and there stood a woman in mourning, conducting this orchestra of paint and metal and sharp laughter.

A creature of acid and filth approached, and even in the dream the smell was enough to send shivers of writhing disgust down his back. The monster heaved and groaned, and begged Ethan to remember, to remember anything he could even if it hurt. Even if it made him want to puke his guts out. Whatever guys he had left at this point.

The last was just a man in pain, a reflection of Ethan through a funhouse mirror, or maybe through a piece of sheet metal. He smelled like gunpowder and rust when he leaned close, and his eyes gleamed like pools of oil behind his glasses.

“You’ll get those bastards yet. C’mon papa, you’re supposed to be the stubborn one. Fight back!” He screamed it even as blades tore through his spine, even as fire enveloped him. A thousand voices merged into one, and all of them called out the same refrain. “Fight back! Don’t let this be your end. Fight back!”

It had been so long since he’d fought. He couldn’t remember what the weight of a gun felt like in his hands, couldn’t envision the recoil of it. He had forgotten his anger, replaced with mold and blood and stark empty white walls.

——

“I wish you could stay longer,” he complained to the empty air. The length of Evelyn’s visits had stopped increasing since they stopped putting the E strain mold in his food. There were concerns, cold and scientific ones mostly. Worries that they had done nothing except make Series F more unstable, even more unusable than before.

“At least we’ve seen some change. Might be enough to keep the wolf from the door,” one of them said in their faraway office.

“Yeah and how long is that gonna last?” An uncomfortable shuffle, the movements you make when you’re not sure how much remorse you should be showing. “Christ at least when he was stable we could’ve made the case for his usability as a control group. Now we might not be able to operate on him safely ever again.”

The last time he had woken up from his dream, he’d been on the operating table again, with scientists examining his stomach for any changes. Naturally, they didn’t expect it to grow limbs and slam someone’s head onto the table.

He could plead innocence. Say that his body had acted without his knowledge, that the mold was truly infecting him and changing who he was.

It wasn’t true though. Evelyn, the Bakers, the horsemen…so many memories were in him now. His was the only repository of their lingering desires, and they screamed for action, for justice, for change. But it wasn’t them making him angry, making him mess with the technology in the facility, or making him attack the scientists whenever he got the chance, the way he used to in the first days. A fire started in his chest every time Evelyn curled up beside him as he repeated bedtime stories from memory.

He wanted to be out. He wanted to go home.

[infinitethree]

“I don't understand how you're still sane after dealing with him for so long,” Day bitches.

Aster snorts softly, a bit glad that he has more people to commiserate with over Daz.

They hadn't even been discussing him. They were catching their breath after a sparring bout– two to one in Aster’s favor, which of course does wonders for his ego– at the training area in Summer Hills.

This place is one of Theo’s stomping grounds, even though it's technically meant for the entire family.

Leaning back on the bench as he enjoys the breeze, he answers, “Sanity is relative. I do end up marrying him, after all.”

“Only sounds more like bullshit,” Day scoffs, clearly salty about something.

He considers his own feelings.

…Honestly? Seeing a softer side of Daz, and knowing some of the most gnarled parts of him…it’s impossible to hate him like he used to.

All the snarling, biting, and fighting were ways to protect himself, after all.

And to protect the rest of them.

Granted, he’s pretty sure Daz does genuinely have a fucked up sense of humor and a struggle to empathize fully with others he doesn’t consider his, but still.

Sure, Daz can act the part, but Aster suspects that those mentally sorted into being the out-group– aka nearly everyone– just kinda…fail to register as full people.

They're puzzles to be solved, informants to exploit, and sheep to pacify lest they try to revolt.

…At least, that's what he suspects is going on. He could be wrong, who the fuck knows? Even with the glimpses he gets into Daz’s mind and life, it’s nowhere near the full picture.

But that's contrasted against how deeply Daz cares about those that are in the in-group.

Hell– he, personally, has seen the shift from being treated like an outsider to an insider.

He does suspect that he was always considered an insider, just kept at arms length because Daz believed in his curse. Having a way to end things was more important than Aster’s feelings, thus Daz had to be quiet about how he showed his care.

It's also really hard to be pissed off at him when he looks so peaceful when he's cuddled up in Aster’s arms.

It…kind of feels nice, actually?

He's not really sure it could be called love, not really. But it feels good to fall asleep with someone beside him– someone who needs him there.

It's not hard to clock that his own rest is better, too. He expected the opposite, but…

Maybe, despite everything, Daz is just a reassuring presence.

“He’s not that bad,” he finally answers. “Not unless he chooses to be. Or if it's one of his fucked up trauma responses. But you forget– I've seen the nasty side of him, sure, but I've also seen the good sides.”

Day makes a face. “You sound like you're falling for him.” “Maybe? I don't know what that's like. My heart doesn't race unless he does something to make me anxious or angry or scared. I still think he's got a habit of being a shitty person. I don’t spend all my time thinking about him.”

Aster shrugs. “I mean…he’s definitely an acquired taste who you have to approach in specific ways. He's a minefield and stepping on a mine ruins everyone's day. If you can figure it out, though…”

He trails off, considering how to phrase it.

After a few moments, he takes a deep breath and begins. “Me, Raine, Khons, Aleph– we'd be worse without him. You have to understand– our willingness to stand behind him isn't unearned. Daz saw four people with potential being wasted, and decided to build us up. I can tell you, without exaggeration or hyperbole, that Daz made us who we are today.”

Day’s lips tug into a frown. “Made as in supported, or made as in reshaped?” “A bit of both.”

He withdraws his axe, Comet Strike, letting the sunlight glint off of the enchanted netherite head.

“I can use this because of him. He made a bet with me, kicked my ass, and then made his prize teaching me. I was already pretty decent by then, but…”

Aster smiles softly at the memory. “He’s why I started using axes. Told me I'd never beat Theo while mimicking him– that I needed to do my own thing. And he was right! Once I changed my approach– after he taught me– I finally started winning tournaments.”

He laughs a little, putting the weapon away. “I didn't get shit from Dee until a while later, after I was able to consistently stand toe to toe with Theo. I can pretty confidently say that my relationship with both Theo and Lee is as good as is because of Daz’s machinations.”

As if to prove his point, he brings a hand up to touch his pair of earrings. The more he learns about how precious claims are, the more honored he is to have them both.

Sure, Theo isn’t an admin. But he was raised by one and has spent a long time traveling and relying on one.

The lack of a spark doesn’t erase that Day is still instinctually an admin.

Claims– and duo items– are incredibly important. Only Lee and Day are admins doesn’t erase that fact, nor does the rest of the family giving out items far more freely.

Earrings, however, are capital-I important to the family. The fact that, thus far, only Aster has formed a bond worthy of one post move to Sanctuary…

That’s a huge deal. He knows that it only adds to his mythical status; from a powerless mostly-dead street rat with nothing to his name but the spite in his veins, to The Comet, a force of nature who stands toe to toe with the strongest fighters of Sanctuary…and wins.

Someone who calls Theo– a myth in his own right in multiple aspects– and Lee– admin-in-training, beacon of sunshine and hope, and beloved fixture of the server– his not-quite brothers.

A person who serves as living proof that anyone can become powerful, if only they decide to buckle down and git gud.

All of that is thanks to Daz.

If Daz had never reached out his hand, he never would have formed the Swords & Shields or Council. He never would have learned from Daz and become the force of nature that he is today. He never would have given countless people the confidence of knowing that if things ever went wrong, they could defend themselves and their loved ones.

He wouldn’t be Theo’s equal. He wouldn’t be Lee’s not-quite-brother. He wouldn’t even be speaking with Day like this.

It’s a debt that he’s never forgotten, nor can he ever hope to repay.

Day is watching him, clearly digesting this information. “...And the others?”

“Khons and Aleph would have never interacted with anyone else outside of their prior groups. They’re more comfortable now and are able to make sure that hybrids or other nonstandard races are able to have their needs met. It gives them both a strong sense of pride and a sense of security,” he answers.

With a grimace, Aster continues, “Raine…shit, I've watched him come into his own. You've seen it, too– he was practically glued to you at first.”

There's a nod. “Raine was…an awful case. I just figured having friends made him bounce back.”

No shit. Raine had been terrified of any benchtrio member, especially Tommys. Even Theo, who literally helped saved him, was treated as an active threat.

He shakes his head. “The more important thing is that, as Daz likes to put it– he has way bigger monsters who are in his corner. Between Daz and I, he feels safe. More than that, though? He's got power of his own. You underestimate the healing effects of giving someone powerless a place on a secret Council who quietly holds a lot of power. Is the premise insane? Sure, we know that. But it's a cause we believe in…and it was started by a person we believe in.”

Day seems doubtful. “The caustic, angry, paranoid bastard who lashes out instead of talking about anything?”

Aster stares at him. Does he seriously not…?

No, wait, he might not.

Sucking a breath in through his teeth, he replies, “I say this with affection–” “Or you could not–” “But, Day, the person you described is literally you.”

There’s clear offense at that, from the way that Day’s wings flare out. “I am not–!” “Remind me how the server’s admin feels about you, again?”

The immortal glares at him, visibly resentful of the reminder. “That’s different.” “No shit. But it’s not that far off, honestly.”

Day grumbles, his wings snapping once in annoyance. “Starting to miss when you were wary of me.”

Aster’s eyebrows shoot up. “Bold fuckin’ words from the man who bawls like a baby when he gives me away at my wedding.” “I–”

Making a face, Day mutters, “Still very surreal to think about that happening.” “Theo cries when our daughter first says his name, so, y’know…”

For several moments, Day seems to digest that. Then he says, “...Daughter, huh?” “Mhm. Azira, we get a surrogate. Daz is her bio dad. From what I saw of her– admittedly, not a ton so far– I believe it.”

He taps the corner of his eye. “She has the same eyes.”

Head tilting, Day points out, “You two have the same face, though?” “Nah, not the shape. The color. Even before mine got fucked up, they were never anywhere near that bright.”

“...Mine are duller, my second life.”

By now, he knows what it looks like when the wheels in Day’s mind are turning. There’s a soft furrow to his brows, his gaze sliding to the ground or a wall.

Slowly, Day murmurs, “Daz, Lee, Lucid. What do their eyes have in common?”

His heart skips a beat. “Really, really vibrant colors.” “Mine dulled when I traded my spark.”

Day straightens, staring at him with wide eyes. “Sparks are genetic. You’ll be raising not just any kid, but an admin.”

He’s sucked into another vision.

Azira scowls at future-Daz, who feels a sense of fathomless joy he does not let show on his face. ���Zira, you can’t just ignore your coding lessons to go play.”

Their future daughter, who looks to be about six or seven, whines, “But they’re boring!” “But you need them.” “I hate working on the console, though!”

Future-Daz hums, pulling her into his lap with ease. She wraps her arms around him, pouting with adorable puppy-dog-eyed energy.

Even despite not really knowing her, Aster finds himself wanting to bend to her tiny whims.

He’s going to be helpless against her, isn’t he?

But Future-Daz laughs softly, tapping her nose with his finger. Confirming his suspicions, his eventual husband tuts, “That works on your Papa, not me.” “Cruel, evil, wretched Daddy,” Azira mutters, her sullenness amplifying.

Yeah, that vocabulary tracks with being Daz’s flesh and blood alright.

Warmth fills Future-Daz’s heart. He so clearly adores her, and every time Aster sees her he feels more and more fond. 

“Hmm…what if we make a deal? You do the lessons– actually do them– and we do fun stuff afterwards,” Future-Daz offers.

There’s immediate interest. “Like what?” “You can decide. If it’s within reason, or you can make a good enough argument for why I should let it happen, then you can pick anything.”

Azira’s eyes go wide, and she scrambles to shift around so she’s able to shove her wrist upwards. “Deal!”

Aster is left speechless and even more attached to her than ever before.

Knowing that she’s so precocious and clever makes him want so badly to have her in his life now. He knows it doesn’t work like that, and that it’s a terrible idea to rush things for a dozen reasons, but–

But, gods. He’s already looking forward to the day he can hold her in his arms and watch her grow up.

He whispers, “She– she is. Gets a console and everything.”

Day can’t help but laugh a little. “Fuck, yeah, I bet she does. For all that I have issues with him? Can’t really argue that Daz is smart. And, well…San seems pretty damn attached to admins. No way they wouldn’t throw a fit until Lucid agreed.”

“He’s one of San’s favorites,” Aster huffs. He knows that because Daz has bitched about it repeatedly…not that Aster is gonna admit as much where San could hear about it. 

He continues, “They’re probably beside themself over the idea of Daz’s daughter being the first admin born on the server. Or, uh– probably, at least.”

Aster shrugs. “Who the fuck knows? We could very well wind up with a refugee who comes in already pregnant, and the kid happens to be an admin. Hard to guarantee much, with how weird shit gets for us.”

Day huffs softly. “...Any idea of timeframe?” “None. I know we don’t take that long to get married, but that’s different. Uh…we look older, with Azira, so I think we do take our time for her.” “Makes sense. Marriage is a lot as it is– but a kid is a whole other ballgame.”

Amused, he points out, “You’re pretty much the only dad we know.” “I know nothing about infants, I’ll warn you now.” “Yeah, but once she’s older…” “I also know nothing about raising girls.”

“You still know how to be a parent. Especially to an admin.” “Mhm…true, I guess. Really doubt Azira will be anything like mine, though,” Day sighs.

When Aster tilts his head to the side, Day points out, “Five out of six were traumatized before I adopted them. Lee– okay, well, technically he probably was, too? But he doesn’t remember it, given the whole…memory wipe thing. Which functionally means he doesn’t remember it, so he doesn’t really have that baggage. So I had five sets of trauma to help unpack, and one flurry of trying to stop my kid from trying to breathe underwater or eat glass.”

A shudder goes down his spine. “Or jump off a roof because Theo is there to catch him.” “Yeah.”

They’re silent for a while, and then Day asks, “You know, both you and Daz have insisted you get married relatively soon. He claimed it’d be within a year. Why?”

Aster blinks. “Oh, uh– well, I mean…for me, at least, I could see Lee. He doesn’t seem much older than he is now. Ages are tricky for me to tell, so I’ll believe Daz’s estimate over whatever I could come up with.”

“...Are you two even dating?”

He makes a noncommittal noise. “In…a manner of speaking…”

“Aster.”

With a sigh, he admits, “We have a deal. He cooks for me, I sleep in the same bed so he can actually get some rest.”

“...What.”

Day seems confused, and Aster realizes that he might not be aware of the horrific insomnia.

Because Daz would be furious if he says too much, he tries to be extremely careful with his wording. “Well, uh…he kind of wasn’t sleeping before. I…I saw one of his nightmares.”

He's yanked into a vision.

The grave that held Tubbo has expanded to rows. The T3, Council, and Lee are laid out inside. Some only have small bloodstains at the heart, but others…look like they fought.

Daz's Dream stands at his back, a hand on his shoulder. “They all came running from just that. It's funny how easy it was to deal with them…but that's my protege for you! You knew how to get rid of them.”

Hands soaked in blood and trembling, Daz whispers, “They were trying to save me.” He looks haunted and like he wants to slide into one of the graves himself.

“Save you? Why would you need saving?”

Dream spins him around, a manic expression on his face. “This is where you belong. This is our Paradise, Tommy!”

Aster stares at a mangled vision of himself– mangled like he had fought like an animal and then put down like one– before everything abruptly changes.

The whole of Sanctuary is a blackened husk, blood raining down on the bodies that carpet the ground.

Daz stands in the wreckage, staring numbly at the only other survivor…at Aster.

“It's your fault,” the nightmare version of himself screams. Righteous fury is etched into his expression. “I trusted you! And now– now, everyone is fucking dead, we're trapped in a dying server, and I'm going to make sure you pay for what you've done.”

Daz doesn’t fight it when he's grabbed, feeling in his bones that he deserves whatever punishment he's given and more.

Fuck, this is the shit that drove Daz to try and kill himself. He's so terrified of others being hurt because of him that he would rather self-immolate than risk it.

Nausea roils in his gut as he’s snapped back to reality. He has to hang his head down, squeeze his eyes shut, and take slow, deep breaths.

It's not real. Daz’s ruined psyche was throwing the worst things it could at him.

When he’s no longer at risk of puking he lifts his head again. Day is watching him, visibly concerned. “Everything okay?”

“No. Yes. Sort of, it's–”

Fuck, Day might be able to help here, right?

Inhaling sharply, he admits, “Daz’s nightmares are– miserable. He thinks he's a failure as a friend and admin.”

Day’s mouth forms a grim line. “How bad is it?” “Everyone dies. If I think about how many times he must have seen us dead and then went about his day like nothing was wrong– I might scream.”

Naturally, he's shown something to make it worse.

Daz stands outside Raine's room from the balcony, looking intently at the lump of his best friend under the sheets. Dawn hasn't even broken yet.

His shoulders slump with relief once he sees enough movement to believe Raine is still alive.

And then–

Daz sits in the hideout under his house, anxiously jittering his leg. He stares at his com, then looks at the clock, then back. It's the wee hours of the morning again.

A near-sob of relief escapes when he gets a reply.

ShiningAster: why the fuck are you bothering me about this at 3 am

RazzleDazzle: woke up thinking about it. Answer my question, bitch.

ShiningAster: i dont have time to read

ShiningAster: which is YOUR fault remember

RazzleDazzle: skill issue tbh? I do more and have time for books.

RazzleDazzle: try gitting gud?

Aster feels sick again.

He fumbles with his com, scrolling through the chat logs.

Daz loves to bother him with questions at unreasonable hours. They're pretty much never important, so Aster long since dismissed them as a facet of the bullying.

It never crossed his mind that Daz was groping for an excuse to get any sort of response to make sure he was still alive.

Fuck, most of their conversations start at weird hours. Scrolling back, he tries to figure out timing.

He stops at an instance where he didn't respond. He's not sure why; time has erased whatever made him not give Daz the reassurance he secretly needed.

Pieces click together, because going down to his next message only a day later–

ShiningAster: ANOTHER FUCKING SURPRISE PARTY?!

RazzleDazzle: Ooh, caps and an interrobang! I feel special :D

ShiningAster: i hate you so fucking much you bastard

RazzleDazzle: Is that REALLY something our shining north star should be saying to poor widdle Dazzie?

ShiningAster: fuck off you fucking sociopath

In his gut, he knows the truth– that it was retaliation for not answering.

Daz needed Aster to hate him, or his precarious mental state would crumble further. But he also needed Aster to be safe and alive, or he'd be even worse off, so–

“Wait, was he the one behind all those fucking surprise parties?”

Aster jumps, having forgotten Day is right there.

He blinks, and nods. “It's– he wanted me to hate him, remember? Fucked up insurance policy against himself.” “Still–” “If someone kept bothering you at weird hours with stupid questions despite supposedly hating your guts, what would you think was going on?”

Day isn't anywhere near stupid enough to fail to understand who he means. Still, the immortal mulls over it for a few moments.

“...That they wanted my attention.”

A bitter laugh escapes him as he stows his com and puts his face in his hands. “Years, Day. I spent…years, thinking he was just being annoying.” “Yeah?” 

There's a lump in his throat. “He was making sure I was still alive. But if he just asked like a normal person, it would be suspicious. So instead…instead, he did things to get a response. I just– just assumed he was being a dick. But this…”

Voice laden with concern, Day asks, “...Are you doing okay? Because I can't help but notice you're, uh–” “Daz’s head is a fucking miserable place to be. I hate learning more, because it’s always depressing. The future is such a relief, because I don't feel like an idiot for failing to catch something–”

He's cut off with another vision.

The future versions of himself, Daz, and their daughter are in what looks like a blanket fort. Azira seems roughly around Lee’s current age, so maybe ten or so?

She looks like she’s been crying. She’s clinging to Future-Daz, who slowly cards a hand through her hair.

Future-Aster murmurs, “She’s finally calmed down.” “I don’t blame her for freaking out,” Future-Daz sighs, looking pained. “But it still…”

“Yeah. Yeah, it’s not like she really understands how ugly the world can be. She’s never seen you as anything but completely loving. The idea of revoking a claim would never have occurred to her.”

Future-Daz grimaces. “I wish we didn’t have to do this now.” “But she understands, once she learned that it won’t happen to her,” Future-Aster tells him.

The future version of himself reaches over and plays with his husband’s hair. “Get some rest. We’ll be right here.”

There’s a long, searching look, and then Future-Daz sighs softly. “You don’t need to stand guard.”

“But it’ll make you feel better. Nobody expects either of us to do anything tomorrow. We’ll have a lazy, family-bonding day. Maybe go over to Summer Hills and watch some movies with them. You know they’ll be happy to reassure her. Day has threatened to steal her enough times that I’m starting to think it might not just be a joke.”

He blinks as he comes back to himself.

Immediately, he teases, “How’s it feel to know you’ll have a granddaughter?”

Day huffs, “Not sure I like being a grandpa, but–” “You're old as balls and have six sons. Frankly, it's a minor miracle none of them are interested in anyone where that's a risk…yet.”

There's a laugh of, “Shut! Don't curse me with that!” “Hey, remember how me and Theo are so damn similar? And if I'm not actually aro/ace–”

Day wheezes, “Fuck off, I don’t need a second hellion like that!” “Third,” Aster smugly points out. “You give me away, that makes you kinda a parental figure.”

“Changed your mind on that, huh?” “I'll point out that there's not really another option. Who am I going to ask– Lee? Theo?” “Theo would be funny, gotta admit.” “He'd hold it over my head for eternity. And we both know you're not actually against it, Day.”

They both laugh. It's nice that the earlier distress has faded into this.

He's going to choke down the bile from thinking about how ruined Daz is by focusing on something lighthearted.

Otherwise, he might head right into a breakdown of his own.

[rsogirlgetsmarried]

Let's start the real meat of the discussion: The Dress.

This will be a multi-post adventure because it was a significant undertaking.

As I thought about it, I realized that I wanted glamour. I wanted 50's fashion. I wanted to feel feminine and girly and like I was wearing something that not every other bride would have. Mr. Wonderful has always considered me his personal pin-up girl and I wanted to be that for him on our day.

The game was afoot.

If you Google 1950s wedding dresses, you get this:

You might notice that there are quite a few, but they're all from vendors that are overseas and they mostly cost between $200-300.

I loved looks like this:

I couldn't even deal with how cute that was.

I also really liked this. Both of these gowns, however, were in the category of "overseas purchase", which meant that I was likely dealing with a vendor from somewhere in China that was mass producing something they'd seen pictured somewhere. I saw a lot of videos online of girls who had ordered what they thought was one thing and they ended up with a total disaster that looked nothing like the picture.

I figured out that I really like the tea-length look, which is usually mid-calf, and/or the ballerina length, which is generally a touch longer.

One of my Best Bitches, Lady Farva, said, "You are NOT buying a $300 wedding dress." ...so that was that on that front.

I also thought I liked sleeves.

Let's be clear: I'm 51 right now. I have a middle-aged body and this isn't my first wedding. I wanted glamour and passion in my gown, but I didn't want to look like I was trying to pass myself off as someone half my age. I wanted something that would pull my midsection in along with being reasonably modest. I will happily leave the figure hugging, cut-down-to-the-navel dresses to the younger girls. (More on deep V fronts later.)

Even places like Unique Vintage have lovely things, but I wanted a full-blown dress with all the trimmings.

I figured it was possible that my local Phoenix bridal shops might carry something in tea length, so I made appointments at a couple. Uniformly I was told, "No, we don't carry anything in tea length, but we can cut off a dress in alterations and make it tea length."

It wasn't a full circle skirt that I could petticoat up. It wasn't going to work. There were a precious couple that could be ordered in tea length, but they were also A-line and wouldn't have the fullness at the bottom that I wanted.

Let me just comment here for the record that it's next to impossible this year to find a wedding dress that isn't cut down to mid-sternum in front. I tried several and I looked ridiculous. Somehow the "bohemian look" means lots of cleavage apparently. I sent Mr. Wonderful a picture of my squished, hanging-out rack and he said, "Buy it." Silly boy.

Meanwhile, I was still looking online. I started to see a series of dresses that were gorgeous and absolutely knocked my socks off.

A lot of the overseas companies had these pictures posted or ones with a very similar style, but for the aforementioned $300 price tag. I searched more and started to find that the legit dresses I was loving all had one thing in common: the name Mooshki.

The House of Mooshki is a company in the U.K. that specializes in real vintage wedding dresses. They have dozens to choose from, and they customize your dress to about anything you want. You want a different color, pattern, lace? You want to drop the waist a little? Adjust the length? They'll do it all. If you've ever watched Say Yes To The Dress you know that this is unique in the bridal world. Take a look at their offerings.

Here are a few more selections because I just can't help myself:

Aren't they just divine? I strongly suggest hitting the link above and checking out the whole line.

So now that I've figured out where I want to buy my dress, how in the blue hell do I manage to do business with a UK-only shop? They have various other shops around the UK that they sell with but nothing in the US. (There's one shop listed in New York but I called them and they only carry very specific very modest dresses, for religious reasons.)

I loved the dresses. I had to do something.

So I sent an email.

[robkappow-blog]

Death on a Honeymoon - Chapter 4 (A Death in Paradise fan-fiction)

Chapter Four

Naomi and Marlon arrived at the Azure and walked through the courtyard. The imposing bulk of the new hotel loomed over them a short distance away. It was easy to see why holiday makers might choose the glossy new hotel, over the slightly shabby establishment that had once been one of the Island’s finest spots.

The pair walked into the reception. Marlon could certainly see why this hotel used to bring in big numbers of tourists. Although it was very much ‘of a certain time’ - it had that quaint shabby-chic vibe that the Caribbean was traditional so famous for. A wall on the far side of the room caught his eye. He wandered over, seeing a young man shaking hands with a plethora of celebrities over the years.

If you followed the wall from left to right, you saw a sort of timeline of a man’s life. This man, Marlon assumed, was Francis. He knew from his notes that Francis was a local man who worked in a variety of fancy hotels and eventually, aged just 25, secured a huge amount of finance to buy the Hotel Azure, and turn it into the best hotel on the island.

The celebrity faces ranged from US presidents, to Arab Sheiks. In the middle row, a few columns in, there was a red-haired woman who Marlon couldn’t place, he’d hoped the picture might say who she was, but there was just a hand-written message: “To Francis, thanks for a wonderful holiday. We had a lorra-lorra laughs! x" - this meant nothing to Marlon, but he made a mental note to ask the Inspector who it might be. 

The wall continued to age Francis as Marlon walked along it, eventually finding a photograph of Francis with the victim. They were smiling from a boat, and looking at the camera. They’d clearly been fishing and it looked like they were both happy. It looked like a good friendship, admittedly from one snapshot, it was impossible to tell, but Marlon’s gut told him that these guys were very good friends. Or at least, they had been.

Naomi had already engaged the receptionist in conversation when Marlon approached. He caught the tail end of the conversation, the receptionist was just turning away saying “I’ll see if he’s free, I think he’s with the chef, preparing for the banquet night”

Naomi turned to Marlon and asked, “anything good over there?” Nodding her head towards the wall of pictures.

Marlon followed her gaze and said “Quite a few big celebrities have stayed here over the years. But what was interesting, was the photo of Francis and the victim. They looked like very good friends to me.” 

Naomi sighed, she took in the wall of images and said “Money is the root of all evil, or so they say” looking at the photograph of the two old friends. But it drives a wedge in even the best of friendships.

At that moment, an elderly man came out from the kitchen area and introduced himself. “Hello, my name is Francis, I understand you would like to speak to me about poor Victor” he said. He had a very authoritative voice, and Marlon could imagine him holding the attention of everyone he spoke to when needed.

They followed the old man through to a back office, where he offered them a small glass of rum both refused, but that didn’t stop him from pouring himself a large glass. Naomi subconsciously checked her watch, it wasn’t even 11am. 

“Thank you for seeing us on such short notice, sir” said Naomi. “We just have a few questions in regard to your friend, Victor Sparrow.” Her pronunciation of the word friend was strained, wether on purpose, or without meaning to, but Frances picked up on it.

“I think you’ve heard some things, young lady?” He said, with a little smile. “But let me tell you my side of things, so you have all the facts”

Naomi simply nodded. He really did have the sort of voice that commanded attention.

“I have known that old bastard for close to 60 years. We are old, old friends. I will miss him dearly. He was my confidant. You may ask,” he continued, correctly anticipating Marlon’s impending interruption, and correctly assuming what he was about to say “then why did he build that big old hotel overlooking mine and drive my business away?”

It was Marlon’s turn to nod. He remained silent, he knew that at this juncture, he wasn’t meant to interrupt.

“Well, let me tell you this” continued Frances “when you have been in business as long as I have, you will know that friendship plays second fiddle to a good business deal”

Marlon was quite surprised by this answer. “But he was driving you out of business. How can you be so pragmatic?”

The old man sighed, looked up to the ceiling and chuckled “You really haven’t had a chance to do your due diligence yet, have you, young man?” Did you see the name of the holding company. The company who owns both hotels?

Naomi checked her notes quickly, with an air of someone who didn’t like to be a step behind in anything. “Yes,” she said, sounding a little rattled, the company name is “Moineau Faucon”

“Correct” he said, with a grin “and, I assume you speak French?”

“Oui” she said immediately, “Oui, Je parle français…” but the last word tailed off.

He immediately knew she’d understood.

“What happened?” Asked Marlon? My French isn’t brilliant.

“You own the holding company with Vincent?” She asked, “how did I miss that?”

“Correct” said the older man, turning slightly to face Marlon, “You see, young man, Moineau is French for Sparrow… and in French, the word Faucon can be translated to Hawk”

Marlon came to the conclusion as soon as the last word was out of the man’s mouth, “Your surname is Hawkings…”

Smiling again, the man said “Correct, my surname is Hawkings. I’m affectionately nicknamed Hawk, and have been since I was a kid.

“So you stand to take over the hotel?” Asked Naomi “That still sounds like a motive to me”

“Young lady, when you have lived as long as me, you don’t want to run hotels. My name is on that paperwork and I get 50% of the profits regardless. Young Ronald will take over the running of the company now, and I still get my 50%” the old man said. 

“And as for this place?” He said, as though he was expecting a question about why he effectively destroyed his own hotel in the creation of a new one, “this place is due to be completely renovated next year, all through the new holding company and will be a companion hotel. It’s for overspill. They’re brothers, not competitors.”

Marlon looked around the room, and then asked his big question, “Mr Hawkings, you said that he’d ‘stabbed you in the back’ and ‘what goes around, comes around’ - care to explain that?”

The man chuckled “I shouldn’t laugh really, but it was a horrible choice of words considering what has happened. But he stabbed me in the back by taking a lady out for dinner, a lady I was very keen on and he knew about it!” He smiled, as if remembering some of their escapades as younger men.

Marlon pressed him, “that still sounds like you were holding a grudge”

The man chuckled again and said “No my lad, I was planning on waiting for him to get a lady friend, and I’d swoop in myself.” He said with an almighty laugh. “What goes around, comes around. We used to talk like this all the time, ask anybody. We were good friends. And I’ll miss him terribly”

Naomi was making some notes. She surveyed the man, as he sat there, drinking rum at 11am. He had a kind, but sorrowful look about him. But she still had to ask “Sir, can you account for your whereabouts last night, when Victor was killed?”

“Of course I can, and I have a room full of witnesses that saw me”, he started to get up as he was speaking, “we had a large banquet on that night, and I was mingling with the guests all night.” He finished up. 

“We will need to check that sir” said Marlon, but he knew that they were not looking at the face of their killer.

“Please do that, young man” Frances said, “my receptionist can provide you with any CCTV footage you need.”

“One last question before we go” asked Naomi “as you are partners, do you know the chef he recently fired? Marie?”

“Oh yes, Marie - of course, she wasn’t fired. She was transferred. She works here. In fact, she was the chef at the banquet. So if you are thinking she’s done something wrong, you can think again. She didn’t leave that kitchen last night until after midnight”