#I think they’re very alike

[ninyard]

you have thoughts on allison you say... would you be open to sharing some of them 👀

and if I said

what sort of reaction would you have. how would we feel about that

[aceattorneyrambles]

One of my favorite character moments (and the thing that immediately made me love him) for Apollo that I think is so intensely important to understanding him goes way back to Case 2 of Ace Attorney: Apollo Justice.

In that case, Trucy stages a “kidnapping” by using Mr. Hat to distract the court, and when Apollo rushes out into the lobby and sees her safe and sound…

He cries.

He’s so overcome with worry and relief that he cries for a girl he barely knows. A girl who, for all intents and purposes, almost cost him the badge he worked so hard to gain. A girl who focused most of the time they did know each other teasing him and not taking him seriously.

And yet, he cries for her anyway. He sobs, even.

It’s a throwaway moment, likely done for comedic effect, but it really hit me, and Trucy’s immediate earnest response telling Apollo not to cry and then him doubling down with protective rage on her behalf hit it home harder, y’know?

Apollo Justice, at his core, cares. Despite his surly attitude a lot of the time, this is nonetheless a defining trait of his. He cares, so much, and so easily, and we see it firsthand right there as he cries for a near stranger.

(And I also think it’s worth noting that the first time we really, truly see Trucy lower her performance mask and cry herself…it’s to Apollo.)

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Obsessed with Fyodor’s as yet unknown backstory today. And not just in the ‘I need to know’ way but… idk there’s something about the way he seems to wholeheartedly believe that what he is doing will result in the removal of sin. Thinking about how he doesn’t have a god complex but is instead a follower of what he believes to be god’s will. Thinking about how he places himself as above others anyways by taking their free will from them. I think about how his ability didn’t attack him and instead seems to be working with him. The gem is in his hand, the hands he kills with, the righteous hand? I think about that gakuen profile that I can’t find anymore but I know I saw where his likes are generally good and selfless things like peace, and about how, if this is true, he’s been an extreme idealist all along. I think about how senseless violence, the people who can’t stop killing each other, seem to disgust him. That he wants to cleanse it. That he repeatedly uses the very thing he wants to cleanse as a weapon regardless. I think about him and Dazai being foils and wonder if his plan to remove the sin of ability users includes his own self-destruction. I wonder where his self-assurance in the necessity of his cruelty and the perfection of God’s intentions comes from. I wonder how old he actually is.

As funny as the idea is to me that he’s just like that… is it kind of weird that I hope whatever his deal is ends up being a gut-punch?

[boasamishipper]

i can tolerate a lot of things from writers and showrunners but outright condescension and disdain for their fans is not one of them

[silksworn]

// only a lil subby when the whips come out <3

I’d say ‘soulmates’ if either of them believed in a notion that romantic or saccharine

[exopelagic]

I need to go to bed I’m just gonna shout a lil

[better-call-mau1]

Sidious: “When my new apprentice Darth Vader arrives, he will...take care of you.” 😈😤😏

Nute Gunray and the Separatists, who apparently thought that being ‘taken care of’ by a Sith Lord meant something other than being sliced up: “Wow that sounds like fun! We’ll roll out the welcome wagon!” 😄🥳🤩

[highkey-lowkey-as-hell]

thinking about the fact that eris and jenny look exactly alike

[stinkysarai]

this this this this THIS. so tired. SO TIRED OF SEEING NATURALLY GIFTED ZUKO! he worked hard to master his skills, he did not effortlessly pick them up. he is not azula, who is a prodigy and genius. however, sokka IS a genius and a natural at anything and (mostly) everything. to switch it up and say that zuko is a natural and sokka isn’t is to diminish their characters and essentially say that you don’t understand them.

(this of course doesn’t count if you’re doing… like, swap aus!!)

this especially ruins the problems between zuko and azula because zuko is envious of azula because of her prodigious abilities, and azula only finds her worth in her smarts/skills, which is why she thinks of zuko as an inferior person. ‘naturally-attuned-to-everything’ zuko would a) have a completely different dynamic with azula and b) would end up completely changing the problem between them. why would azula think so little of her brother when they’re both on the same page, or when he’s even better than her? why would zuko be jealous of azula when he’s just as good as she is? UGHHH!!!!!! screams

if anything sokka would be the one teaching things to zuko who would then work hard to further progress his skills. HELL if anything zuko would have to beg to be helped by him because sokka would just be like ‘little old useless me? gifted where? are you ok in the head??’ both of these guys have little-to-no self-esteem possible. the littlest amount there is even. and mental illness. all of them in fact. every single one known to mankind. ok thats a joke but you get my point i think

sorry for the rant reblog its 5 am and i love sokka and zuko and azula because they’re all me and i’m all them; yes this is impossible but fuck that i just made it possible. i am ill

Been reading a lot of zukka fics lately, and I keep noticing people writing modern day fics where Zuko is good at all things and teaches Sokka stuff that Sokka then works hard to be good at.

You fuckers, Zuko is not naturally good at shit. He worked super hard to be good at all things he does. He is NOT a prodigy, Azula is.

Sokka is naturally good at everything. He picks up skills instantly. He is just good at haikus, he just learns to be a swordmaster after like a week, he just is good at fighting after Suki teaches him for like a day. The man picks up skills like he picks up elbow leeches. He failed that one time on the day of the black sun and had the most massive meltdown about it because he’s never failed before.

[narnian-neverlander]

For You, Always [Viktor x GN!Reader]

Plot Summary: You press your forehead to his lightly and whisper your thanks again, and “What you did was more than enough. You will always be more than enough.” He tightens the arm still looped around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer, the hand on your face slipping to the back of your neck, mirroring you. This is how things have always been between you two and how they should stay: clearly caring and loving, yet a certain line never crossed.

Word Count: 4,7k

Warnings: slight angst, self-worth issues (both of them need a freaking hug), internalized ableism, talk about a non-consensual relationship (nothing explicit/graphic or sexual, but reader’s ex is clearly an abusive, ableist pos)

This is part of a series of stand alone One-Shots that all feature the same reader, you can find the masterlist here :3

A/N: Jayce is playing matchmaker, because both Viktor and the Reader have such bad self-worth issues, they’re not gonna get anywhere unless he whacks them over the head with his hammer

“According to Mel, he is an absolute ass, but unfortunately one of the most influential people in Piltover, so—“

“Unfortunately, he’s also kinda, sorta my ex…” you mumble into the rim of your glass, interrupting Jayce and it is comical, cartoonish almost, how his head turns to look at you so fast you’re afraid his neck might snap. Not to mention Viktor accompanying his reaction perfectly by choking on his own drink. You watch Jayce open and close his mouth several times until he finally settles on: “That guy? Seriously? Didn’t think that was your type…”

He casts an incredibly unsubtle, overly obvious glance over at Viktor as he says this and you would’ve loved to strangle him for it; thankfully the man in question is too busy coughing up fancy champagne to notice, he does however manage to get out a “Oh please tell me you lost a bet.”

Downing the rest of your drink in one go, you shake your head. “Gods, I wish. Just… young and stupid and naive and always too eager to please and — and he’s coming this way. Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me.” You all but flee the scene about to unfold, grabbing another glass off a passing waiter’s tray as you make a break for the nearest balcony. Your friends watch you disappear into the crowd with worried frowns; Jayce’s statement of “Probably a pretty bad breakup…” getting answered with an eye roll and a heavily sarcastic “You think so? I never would have guessed.”

The next hours are spent hopping from hiding spot to hiding spot, snatching drinks and snacks off trays whenever you manage while keeping an eye out for your personified worst nightmare. By some godly miracle you manage to utterly avoid the man and the next familiar face you spot when you dare venture back into the crowds is the Man of Progress himself, surrounded by nobles and merchants alike, polite smile on his face as he makes conversation. A polite, fake smile in danger of slipping that you spot from a mile away. Catching a glimpse of the band getting ready to strike up another song, you decide to be merciful and rescue him. It’s not entirely selfless though, as you figure if the asshole does end up spotting you, watching you dance with Piltover’s very own golden boy might be a good enough repellant.

“Excuse me, Mr. Talis?” Relief floods his features as he turns around to find you right behind him, having shoved your way through the circle of admirers. “I hate to interrupt, but you did promise me a dance. You’re not the kind of man to go back on his word are you?” Voice all sweet and coy and honeyed, batting your lashes at him; the picture perfect flirt making starry eyes at the man leading the city of progress into a brighter future. And it takes all he has not to burst out laughing, because he’s seen this from you before, except it’s usually not him on the receiving end of it, but his partner. It is charming, endearing even, he will admit. No wonder Viktor can never say no to you when you look at him like that. And right now he’s beyond elated you’ve decided to play his saving grace for some reason, so he wouldn’t even dream of turning you down.

“Of course not. If you’ll excuse me.” he states, ignoring any protests from bystanders and guides you to the dance floor with a hand on the small of your back. He leads you into a waltz and waits until you’re swallowed by dancing couples until he lets his face drop into an exhausted grimace. “Oh sweet Gods, thank you. Anymore of that and I would’ve driven the cocktail sticks into my ears.”

“You’re welcome. How did you even end up like that, though? Where’s your better half? He’s usually pretty capable of getting you both out of situations like that.” He sends you a knowing grin as he spins you. “Oh so you think he’s the better half? Ouch.” It earns him an eye roll, but you’re smiling nonetheless. “Like you don’t know I have a favorite. Now answer the question, golden boy.” There’s hesitation before he answers with, “He went home for the evening.” and you almost fumble your next steps. “Excuse me? The bastard begged me to come along for weeks and now he just ditches? The only reason I agreed to come was because he actually promised me a dance.”

Jayce hems and haws and you’re ridiculously close to intentionally stomping on his foot to get him to cough up an explanation; luckily for him he manages in time. “No, no, it’s more like… I sent him home cause if he would’ve had to be in the same room as your ex any longer, I was genuinely afraid he’d take the guy’s head off with his cane.” The laugh that bubbles up from your throat is joyful and real; Jayce has always been good at defusing your irritation with humor. It takes another few seconds and another look at his face to realize that he’s dead serious and your laughter dies on your tongue, leaving behind the taste of ashes. “You can’t be— He— What?! I left you guys for two hours max!”

“Yeah, well…” he starts as he dips you, “your ex has a way of getting under people’s skin.” No shit. But you’d honestly thought Viktor was above it. “What did the asshole do? Dismiss Hextech as an obsolete fantasy?” Shaking his head, he leads you into another turn. “No, quite the opposite, actually. He was incredibly interested, but his demands for becoming a sponsor were ludicrous, to put it mildly. Final say in the direction of Hextech, majority of the shares, unrestricted access to all stages of development and… you.” This time, you do stumble over your own feet in shock, falling straight into his chest. “Pardon?!”

The poor man looks as uncomfortable as you feel as he explains. “Apparently he saw the three of us talking earlier and one thing led to another and— fuck, I don’t know what happened between you, but that man is absolutely not over you. For some reason that is entirely beyond me, he was under the impression that because we’re friends we’d somehow be able to coerce you into being with him again. And the way he was talking about you? Gods, it made me wanna punch him in the face; it was so utterly vile I can’t even repeat it. Scratch that, I just really don’t want to.” All things considered, you’re glad for his hands steadying you, cause the room’s spinning even without the dance you’re still enagaged in and you feel like you’re gonna loose all the fancy hors-d’oeuvres from earlier on the polished marble floor any second now. “Great. Lovely. Perfect. And how exactly does Viktor fit into this now?”

He sighs. “Honestly, I can’t repeat what he said either.” This seems to ground your spiraling for a moment and you cock a brow at him. “Are you kidding? He’s usually pretty eloquent.” To say you’re surprised when he snorts in amusement would be an understatement. “I mean I literally can’t repeat it, because he was so utterly livid, he slipped into his mother tongue and while I can’t be sure, it didn’t exactly sound like he was complimenting the guy.”

Finally all the pieces click into place and when they do, you slow your steps to a stop and blink up at your friend owlishly. “He… Viktor got upset on my behalf?” The way he so openly laughs at you makes your ears burn and your fist connects with his chest in a halfhearted punch. “I don’t see what’s so funny about that!” Catching your hand as you ready yourself for another swing, this time aimed at his stupid, handsome face, he reigns in his laughter and simply smiles at you; not mean spirited or teasing, but shockingly gentle and sweet. “You really can’t even begin to understand the way he sees you, huh? The lengths he’d go to for you?”

The anger and embarrassment in your veins all but evaporates, replaced by something soft and warm; heat gathering at the back of your neck and the balls of your cheeks for an entirely different reason now. Your mouth drops open as you try to formulate some sort of response, only to fail miserably; incoherent stuttering and beginnings of words the only thing you manage to produce. The music finally fades out and is replaced by applause for the band as your friend chuckles and inclines his head towards the door. “You should go talk to him.” A glance over his shoulder shows you the gaggle of potential investors you’d saved him from earlier already making their way towards you again. “And you’ll survive if I leave you alone with these people?” An overly dramatic sigh is your answer. “I’ll gladly sacrifice myself for your happiness.” The ‘my hero’ he gets in return is dripping with sarcasm as he winks at you and makes a shooing motion towards the exit, then turns around to head back into the fray, giving you a clean escape.

Freezing winter air hits you as you exit the venue; bitingly cold but a welcome change from the sweltering warmth of the gala nonetheless. Starting left, you catch yourself after only a few steps to reconsider. Left would be Viktor’s apartment. Right would be the lab. You know him better than that, don’t you? So you change directions, readjusting your scarf over your nose. It’s a relatively short distance to the academy, even so your fingers are starting to go numb when you reach one of the big, heavy doors leading inside. The hallowed halls are quiet and dark, making the high ceilings and ornate walls seem even more imposing than usual as you make your way towards the lab with hurried steps. It all feels like you’re doing something illegal - or maybe it would, if all the security guards hadn’t seen you hang around the two Hextech pioneers often enough for you to know all their names by heart at this point. Arriving at the lab, first glance tells you it’s as empty as the rest of the building. Except for the tiny sliver of light peeking out from under the door. Bingo.

You gingerly, quietly press down on the handle, not wanting to involuntarily startle the man you know to be inside, just in case he’s handling something explosive. One experience like that had been enough to last you a lifetime. You’re in luck, as you instead find him hunched over one of the desks, furiously scribbling notes onto various scattered pieces of paper, muttering under his breath. The small lamp at his side casts deep shadows across his face, but you’re still able to make out the frown; thick eyebrows drawn together in irritation and lips pressed into a thin line. He couldn’t possibly still be upset about what happened at the gala, could he? No, impossible. Preposterous. Idiotic. He’s hit a roadblock in his equations, that had to be it. But seeing as you’re not in any danger of accidentally causing him to blow you both to pieces you make your presence known to him.

“I do believe Jayce told you to go home, didn’t he?” Viktor almost drops his pen in alarm, swiveling around on his stool to find you have sidled up to him, leaning against the desk, in the process of ridding yourself of your coat and scarf, an amused grin on your lips. He puts a hand over his racing heart, as he says “And a heart attack is a fitting reprimand for my crime in your eyes, yes?” You only raise your brows in return, smile slipping from your face, disapproval obvious in your eyes as they flit towards the clock in the corner of the room for just a second; it’s the same look he always gets from you when he’s working when he clearly shouldn’t be. Running a hand through his already messy, chestnut hair, he shrugs. “I simply didn’t feel particularly tired when I left.”

“So I’ve heard.” you muse and pick up a random cogwheel from the table to fiddle with. “Apparently you had some… disagreements with a potential investor?” He clicks his tongue in annoyance and all but chucks the pen still in his hand across the desk. “Potential investor, don’t make me laugh. That appalling, pathetic excuse of a man shouldn’t be allowed in a five mile radius of anything Hextech. Or a five mile radius of you, for that matter.” Humming in both agreement and intrigue, you continue with what’s really been eating you up. “Jayce said you hit him with some choice words. Mind repeating those for me?” A sideways glance your way to confirm you’re certain and then he launches into a repeat of his rant from earlier that evening. He gets about three or four words into it before you throw the cogwheel at him; it bounces off his shoulder and lands on the floor with a ping. “Oh someone thinks he’s particularly funny tonight. In a language I understand, maybe?” Try as he might to hide it, you catch the corners of his mouth tugging upward slightly. “That’s not what you asked of me, though.” Know-it-all bastard.

“Oh how dare you?” Hopping up on the table for additional theatrics, you grip your chest in mock offense and throw your head back dramatically. “Here I am, having braved a journey of freezing winds and complete darkness, to bestow my thanks upon you and you don’t even have the courtesy to thrill me with a retelling of your courageous deeds. Disappointing, truly.” A pointed cough into his fist does little to hide the laugh at your antics. “Please, the venue is a ten minute walk from here and all the streets are lined with lanterns. You’ll need to try a little harder, miláčku.”

Huffing, you run a hand over your face, desperately trying to hide how much the nickname affects you and give you a second to think. Your salvation stares at you from the other end of the lab, the golden horn of the phonograph glinting in the light of the moon that filters through the windows. And he immediately knows he won’t like what comes out of your mouth next, with the way your eyes flash and your lips curl in an absolutely wicked smile. “Well you see, I still haven’t been paid for tonight.” Confusion is clear as day in both his face and his voice. “I do not recall discussing payment for your participation in the gala…?”

“Oh but we did!” you giggle as you hook your foot around the center of his roller stool to drag him closer, very much enjoying the look of utter shock on his face and the slight graze of his hands on the sides of your things as they land on the desk next to you to try and regain his balance. “A certain someone promised to dance with me if I showed up. Guess who ditched before he made good on that?” At least he has the courtesy to look sheepish, a little knowing ‘Ah…’ sound escaping him as he rubs a hand over the back of his neck and drops his gaze to his lap. With how the night had gone, he’d genuinely forgotten all about it. And before the night had even started he’d hoped you’d forget. He really should’ve known better. A finger enters his field of vision to poke him in the chest. “You’re in luck; I am nothing if not merciful, so I’ll leave it up to you: a dance or an explanation. So what’ll it be, darling?”

He’s beyond grateful you can’t get a proper look at his face at the moment, with how pink he knows his cheeks to be, lest you realize how much the nickname actually affects him. And this shouldn’t be such a hard choice, really; the way his heart stutters at just the thought of either, he should be doing both. Besides, you deserve to know. Deserve to know that he’d told that pompous swine to go choke on his wine the moment he’d as much as uttered your name. Told him that he shouldn’t even be allowed to breathe the same air as you, much less be allowed close enough to touch you. That he could amass as much money and power as he liked, he’d never be worth even a fraction of you.

You deserve to know all of that. And yet he doesn’t tell you. Because while he did what he did for your sake, it had still been selfishly motivated. Because if he tells someone interested in you off, then at least it feels like you’re his, even for just a second. Because the irony of the situation is that while your ex might be undeserving of you, so is he. For different reasons, yes, but he feels it’s true nonetheless.

So he doesn’t tell you any of it, his personal demons are not your burden to bear after all, simply grabs his cane in silence and walks over to the phonograph. Slow notes of a gentle melody fill the air a few moments later, as he turns and offers you his hand.

And you’re absolutely shell shocked, to say the least. This is… not the choice you’d been expecting. Words are his forte; he’d always choose them over physicality if given the opportunity. Or so you’d thought. This doesn’t make sense to you; why was he so desperately trying to keep what he’d said about you a secret? Or had Jayce completely misunderstood the situation he’d recounted to you and Viktor had never said anything about you at all? Why would he bother to anyways? You and your past demons aren’t his burden to bear, after all. The uncertainty must be written all over your face, as you’re met with a concerned, “Are you alright?”

It’s a simple enough question, with a simple enough answer, yes or no, but all of a sudden, you’re a child again. Sitting bruised, bleeding, soaked to the bone and crying your little heart out in the shallows of one of the offshoots of the river, an altercation between you and some other kids having turned out to be another case of you biting off more than you could chew. And then a little pale hand holding out a dirty handkerchief had appeared in your peripheral, belonging to a small, lanky boy with a cane and big, worried golden eyes.

Are you alright?

You hadn’t known him then. But you’d taken his hand anyways. Had decided to trust him. He’d never once let you down since and you have no reason to doubt him now. So you do the same thing in this exact moment as you did all those years ago: just take his hand and trust him.

He pulls you flush against him, hands linked behind your lower back, your own coming up to rest on his shoulders. It’s nowhere near as elaborate and elegant as your waltz earlier this evening, more of a simple swaying from side to side, but it doesn’t have to be. Not for you. Not as long as it’s him.

Smiling softly, you say, “A dance with each one of the Hextech geniuses in one night. I must be the luckiest person in Piltover.” He hums in acknowledgment. “And do you have a preference?”

“Oh come now, that is an utterly unfair comparison.” And your heart aches at the way his face falls just the tiniest bit. “I’ve had my preference for years, regardless of dancing abilities; poor Jayce never even stood a chance.” It’s quiet and subtle, barely more than a deep breath in and out, but it’s a laugh nonetheless. “Don’t tell him that, it’ll break his heart.” In direct comparison to him, the bark of laughter that escapes you is loud and boisterous, only amplified by the muted, soft atmosphere surrounding you both. “Please, he knows. He’s been yanking my chain about that for a bit.” Not that you particularly mind; it’s a chain you wear proudly and for all to see after all. You’d shout your love for this man from the highest towers of Piltover if only he asked. “Besides…” you start while tucking your head into the crook of his neck, “I’m here dancing with you because I want to be. I really only danced with Jayce because I thought if… if you-know-who saw it, it might keep him off my back a little longer.”

A slight turn of his head has him nuzzling your hair; the hushed whisper of your name almost sounds pained as his arms tighten around you protectively. He isn’t sure what exactly happened between you and your ex, but he’d be willing to bet that the nature of your relationship hadn’t been… consensual. It’s plain to see that the man scares you and it makes him sick. Angry. Desperate. But most of all, he’s disappointed - in himself. The conversation him and Jayce had had with him had been one thing; the bastard knew how to behave at least somewhat diplomatically while there were people of importance present. Of course, Jayce, and by extension, you, couldn’t know that he’d had the misfortune of running into him yet again while he was leaving. He’d had to listen to that waste of oxygen in expensive clothing talk about you like you were nothing more than a filthy piece of his property yet again and this time around he hadn’t managed to remain even remotely civil. Had thrown every curse and threat under the sun in two different languages his way. Had hissed at him that he’d turn him inside out if he ever even looked at you again - only for the pig to laugh in his face, pat his cheek condescendingly and give a disgusted, embarrassed look at his cane, telling him that he was ’welcome to try’ before vanishing back into the crowd. Viktor had wanted to scream at the top his lungs; it had been a while since he’d felt so utterly livid, yet so humiliated and useless at the same time.

And here you are, wanting to thank him for some courageous, chivalrous deed he didn’t actually commit. Looking at him with the biggest eyes, like he’d hung the stars in the sky just for you, when in reality, he couldn’t even properly defend you against someone who’d clearly hurt you. He has to tell you. He’s not the hero you think him to be.

“About what I said to him—“ is as far as he gets, as you promptly cut him off with, “Don’t tell me. It doesn’t matter.” Not even ten minutes ago, you were essentially blackmailing him into spilling this secret and now you don’t care anymore? “I would argue that it does.” He feels more than sees you shake your head, your hair tickling his cheek. “You stood up for me, right? That’s all I have to know. It’s enough.”

Anger and disgust come back full force, choking him like bile rising in the back of his throat, not aimed at you, never at you, but at himself.

“It’s nothing.”

He doesn’t mean for it to come out so harsh and bitter and cold.

“It’s plenty.”

Soft and sweet and warm, the exact opposite of his own words in every way; the reassurance and comfort he’s supposed to be offering you dripping from every word. When did your roles get reversed? You’re the one in distress and you’re comforting him? He’s not just useless, he’s absolutely pathetic. And even though you might be none the wiser to his self destructive thoughts, some part of you seems to know; it always seems to know as your fingers dance across his shoulders to busy themselves with the hair at the nape of his neck, calming his nerves.

“I haven’t had— I mean, no one’s ever— Most people—“ A sigh, a clear sign of frustration as you try to get your thoughts in order, warm breath fanning over his neck, leaving goosebumps in it’s wake. “I can count the people who ever stood up for me over the course of my life on one hand; I mean, my birth parents never even bothered to. So knowing there’s someone who has my back, even when I’m not present? It’s…” Pulling back to look at him, his breath catches at the way the silvery light from outside empathizes the affection in your eyes and the tenderness of your smile. “It’s a nice feeling. Thank you.”

His hand is moving before his brain has time to play catch up, cupping your cheek and all but melting when you nuzzle into his warmth, eyes fluttering closed.

“For you? Always.”

He’s not sure he’s ever seen you look quite so peaceful and at ease and it feels like his heart is gonna jump right out of his chest; his gaze is drawn to your lips before he can fully think about what that could entail.

He watches your lips part slightly and when he manages to wrench his golden eyes back up, he finds yours already on him, wide in astonishment and he knows he’s been caught red handed.

And you consider yourself most fortunate, cause if he’d looked up even a second earlier, he would’ve caught you staring. The air is heavy and promising and whoever makes the next move decides wether or not things between you both are gonna change irrevocably.

Tonight, you’re the one that makes that decision. The decision that you’re not ready for things to change. You like what you have and are too scared of losing it. Instead, you settle for something different, yet just as poignant and important; a clear and explicit expression of love for people from Zaun. Softly tugging on his neck, he goes oh so willingly, happily even. You press your forehead to his lightly and whisper your thanks again, and “What you did was more than enough. You will always be more than enough.”

He tightens the arm still looped around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer, the hand on your face slipping to the back of your neck, mirroring you. This is how things have always been between you two and how they should stay: clearly caring and loving, yet a certain line never crossed.

Neither one of you notices the music coming to an end, replaced by the scratchy static of needle against vinyl, too wrapped up in the moment, in each other. A bell tolls outside, signaling the coming of midnight and just like in a fairytale, the spell you seem to be under comes to an abrupt end. With a deep breath, you step back, putting some much needed distance between you, if you want your brain to function properly again, that is, and clear your throat awkwardly. “I uh… I should be getting home. Some people still have a regular day and night schedule, unlike you.”

With a small smile, you go to gather your coat as he switches off the phonograph. When he turns back to you, his heart falls in disappointment; you’re already dressed and halfway to the door. He would’ve liked to walk you home, at least, but you honestly look like you’re fleeing from something; he apparently has imposed on you enough for tonight. Pausing with your hand on the handle, you call his name again, delicately, quietly. When your gaze finds him, you’re pleased to find his full attention already on you.

“Next time you’re pulling an all-nighter… save me another dance?”

And with the way his golden eyes start to shine like the stars and his beautiful lips quirk up into that crooked half smile you adore, you can almost believe Jayce’s words - almost.

You really can’t even begin to understand the way he sees you, huh? The lengths he’d go to for you?

“For you? Always.”

[luveline]

this might be silly but i imagined the boys (marauders) playfully arguing over who gets to marry reader first and they’re just listing times they did these ridiculously romantic things to win the name of husband

“I’ve been thinking…” 

You’re focused on your keychain, but you hum to show you’re listening. Once you get to the end of this row, you can talk properly. 

Sirius sits beside you, his hands paused on either side of his own keyring. They’re technically alpha patterns made from knotted embroidery threads, but you and Sirius call them keychains. 

This is the second time he’s sat with you to make them, and it makes you so happy you could cry. Last Saturday he’d been sitting on the sofa as he usually does when you’re by the coffee table in the evenings, Remus at the other end, feet in his lap, when he touched your shoulder lightly and asked if he could try to make one with you. 

It’s definitely not an easy craft to teach, but it isn’t rocket science, either. Sirius is a quick learner, and his keychain looks very neat. 

“Would you wanna get married, someday?” he asks quietly. 

“Of course I would.” 

You put your string bobbins down. You’d answered without thinking, and the true answer is a little sad. Of course you wanna get married someday, but you’re not exactly in a conventional relationship. Marriages don’t tend to go four ways. 

“You know I wouldn’t have it in a church or anything, but we could still dress up. You could wear a white dress,” he says, looping a bobbin string under one of the anchors, knotting it, and moving on to the next. “I’d get you any dress you want.” 

“That would be nice,” you agree, leaning in to hug his side. You kiss his shoulder, lips pressed to a sleeve. 

“And then you could get divorced and marry me,” James says, backing into the room with a tray of drinks and snacks alike. He sets them down on the table behind your craft station, before rounding it, and sitting behind you to feel your shoulders. “Better yet, marry me first, and Sirius can go second.” 

“No, I’m going first,” Sirius says without worry. 

“You can’t just go first.” 

“Says who?” Sirius turns into your hugging to hug you back gently. 

“Me?” James says. “You can’t just decide that. What I want to marry you first?” 

“You haven’t asked me to get married.” 

You laugh at the ridiculousness of their conversation. There’s sincerity in it somewhere. 

They bicker about who’s doing what and where and who’s with who. You revel in the feeling of Sirius’ hand on your back moving a slow back and forth, each line of his fingers. You love his hands. 

“Babe,” James says eventually, “would you marry me first, please?” 

“Sirius asked first.” 

James groans. “Okay, but does Sirius deserve to be first?” 

“James,” you warn softly. 

“It’s fine,” Sirius says. “He’s kidding.” 

“I’m not kidding,” James says, though he is. “What has Sirius done for you to deserve you as I do? Who brings you a bouquet every Sunday?” 

Technically, the bouquet is from everyone, or so they say, but it is James who wakes up early for bread, milk, and flowers. 

“And who rearranges it? Who gives you your back rub every night?” James pulls you away from Sirius, your head dipping back against his thighs. His smile is catching. 

“Those are very nice things, Jamie, but Sirius takes good care of me too.” 

James cups your cheek. 

“I’m the one who kissed her first,” Remus says. You startle at his voice. He’d been quieter than Sirius, letting himself into the room, climbing over the arm to sit on the sofa behind Sirius. “Which was very romantic. Not sure if you remember.” 

You remember. 

“That disqualifies you from any more firsts,” Sirius says. 

“By that logic, you’re disqualified too,” James says. 

You flush and sit up properly. “I’m not marrying any of you because I’m not something to be argued over.” 

Again, you’re kidding around, but Sirius holds your arm to his side, tired enough to be affectionate. “Sorry,” he says, smiling, “I was just thinking about it.” 

You lean back against James’ legs. How lovely is that? You’re stressing over embroidery lines and he’s thinking of you at the courthouse together. 

“I’ll marry you,” Remus says, giving Sirius a nudge. “Yes?” 

“Yes please.” 

“See,” James says, “they’ll get married and we’ll get married, as I wanted.” 

“And when they’re married and you don’t get to call Remus your husband, you’ll be okay with that?” you ask. 

James frowns deeply. “Well, I hadn’t thought of it until now.” 

[calmlb]

It’s been clear that the Tanizakis aren’t siblings from the very beginning

here’s some evidence now that it’s been confirmed canon…

everyone who’s read irl Tanizaki’s book knew that Junichiro & Naomi weren’t siblings as soon as they introduced themselves

BUT just because the Tanizakis aren’t siblings doesn’t mean you can’t feel uncomfortable about them. if you feel uncomfortable, GOOD. that’s exactly what they want

the Tanizakis, Mori— they all use these disturbing ruses to disarm or distract people in order to protect themselves, or to accomplish their goals. this is a writing device that asagiri commonly employs as a way to parallel the irl literature (it’s actually ingenious)

there are 4 main indicators that have always made it clear to me that Junichiro & Naomi are not siblings:

1. most obviously— their character designs. Harukawa is extremely intentional with character designs, & she very intentionally made Naomi & Junichiro look nothing alike

their eye shapes are purposely different

their color palettes are contrasting

even their differing styles of clothing have meaning

this was all done so that the audience could PLAINLY see that they’re not related— so that WE know that they’re lying when they say they ARE related

2. how the people around them respond to their act.

the general reaction is “don’t question it”— which is exactly what they want. “be distracted by how uncomfortable you feel so that you look away from what we’re hiding” (this is likely a protective measure)

3. most importantly, this is meant to parallel irl Tanizaki’s book “Naomi,” where the main character Joji picks up Naomi to raise her into his ideal woman, but since she's so young (& a minor) they call each other cousins (Joji makes no sexual advances on young Naomi btw)

however, his plan backfires because when Naomi gets older & they get married, she flips the script on him & manipulates HIM so that he's under her thumb (which is why bsd Tanizaki is at a domineering Naomi's mercy). Joji let her have her way because of his masochistic tendencies

4. lastly is the emphasis that Asagiri and the Tanizakis themselves put on calling each other siblings.

over & over, it’s “my brother this” & “my sister that”

like they’re desperately trying to convince us that it’s true (“don’t let your lying eyes deceive you”)

here are just a few of many examples from the light novels…

again, if you’ve read “Naomi” you knew that Junichiro & Naomi weren’t siblings as soon as they introduced themselves

just like if you’ve read irl Mori’s works, it’s clear that bsd Mori isn’t a pedophile

just like if you’ve read No Longer Human you know that Dazai’s an unreliable narrator. he makes you think he’s a bad person bc he believes he’s a bad person, but those around him see him differently (btw this doesn’t mean he’s never done anything “bad,” though bsd isn’t about morality— but that’s another discussion)

anyway, i’m so excited for the Tanizakis backstory to be revealed so that we can better understand why they use this defense!!

also let this be a reminder to READ THE LITERATURE if you’re able to!! even reading synopses & analyses of the coordinating books makes bsd make much more sense 🥹

reminder that this how you’re supposed to react while reading bsd:

also, if you’re interested in a post explaining how Mori isn’t a pedo, i wrote this analysis on twt. OR you can read this document that one of my moots sent me (remember: analyzing a character does NOT mean you condone any actions they may or may not commit!)

[3rdgymbros]

━ 𝐑𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐬 𝐈𝐭 (𝟐) !

— pairing; vil schoenheit x ramshackle! reader

— summary; vil's dad thinks you're dating, and comes down to meet you

— notes; here is part 2, part 1 is here. please donate to my kofi or consider commissioning me if you like my work bc im broke and need cash. and know that i am mentally smooching everyone who reblogs my stuff.

❋ It’s a bright afternoon at Night Raven College when Eric Venue arrives at Night Raven College unannounced, causing a minor frenzy among students and staff alike. They’re starstruck; after all, seeing a famous actor on campus is a rarity, and Eric is surrounded by a crowd of adoring fans as he makes his way to Pomefiore.

❋ Vil, however, is not thrilled to see him. His father’s obviously come here to snoop, and Eric’s wide grin tells Vil there’s no escaping him today.

❋ Ever the professional actor, Eric insists he’s just here for a little visit. “Can’t a father see his son and stroll around the college campus for a while?”

❋ Vil reluctantly obliges, but he’s wary. Every time they pass a group of students (many of them gawking and staring and pointing), Eric gives each and every one of them a careful once-over, as if expecting you to magically appear. Vil notices and gives his father a dirty look, but Eric just shrugs, the very picture of innocence.

❋ Despite Vil’s attempts to keep his father far far away from you, your paths do eventually cross. You run into both father and son as you’re heading down to the cafeteria for lunch, and Eric’s eyes immediately light up with recognition. He strides over before Vil can stop him, extending a hand with a charming smile. “Ah, you must be the famous Ramshackle student! I’m Eric Venue, Vil’s father. I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

❋ You’ve seen exactly zero of his movies. Thanks to Ace and Deuce giving you the lowdown, all you know about this guy is that he’s some big star — Leonardo DiCaprio level, maybe? Not that anyone here would know who he is . . .

❋ Realising that Eric’s waiting for a reply, you quickly recover, shaking his hand with a slightly awkward but friendly smile. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Venue.”

❋ Eric immediately wastes no time in drawing you into a conversation, asking you about your interests, your studies, and — much to Vil’s chagrin — what you think of his son. He’s so friendly and warm, it’s almost like talking to an old friend, rather than a famous celebrity.

❋ (The shy tinge to your smile, and the way your voice softens when you talk about Vil doesn’t go unnoticed by Eric, and only serves to confirm his suspicions.)  

❋ Vil is unnaturally tense through it all, a bow string about to snap. It’s almost as though he’s debating grabbing his father and making a break for it, public image be dammed. But instead, Vil settles for hovering beside you both, looking mortified and slightly flustered when his father asks you something just a little too personal.

❋ Finally, Vil manages to pull his father aside, insisting that they should let you get to lunch (Vil makes eyes at you and you take the hint, dutifully acting as though you’re absolutely starving).

❋ Eric sees right through your little act, but lets you leave with a wave and a laugh, expressing his desire to see you again. Afterwards, Eric turns to Vil with a knowing smile, quietly whispering, “I like them,” like it’s the final stamp of approval for the relationship Vil absolutely refuses to admit he’s in.

[in-the-multiverse]

HotGuy is the bravest, sharpest, most handsomest hero in all of Hermit City. That’s what he’d tell you, anyway. Nobody can agree on what HotGuy is. A hero to some, villain to others. There’s a universal agreement he’s a wanna-be show off of some kind. Him and that pesky bird…

Scar is determined to win over the citys’ hearts (and charitable diamonds) so who better to face off against than King Cleo? With his charming smile, trusty bow, and sidekick CuteGuy, nothing can go wrong!

Coming soon to a theater near you /j

(but these are screenshot style pieces for what I imagine an animated hotguy movie would look like. More ramblings about this au below)

[trailer] / 1

King Cleo would IMMEDIATELY put them in their place like a teacher lecturing the entire class on how they’ve been misbehaving. But that’s no fun right away, so why not let them learn their lesson? >:)

HotGuy and CuteGuy are an iconic duo in Hermit City. King Cleo and Entropy (Cub) are another iconic duo. Whether each team is heroic or villainous depends on who you ask. Even the city residents are split on opinions

Except Bdubs. He runs a podcast spilling conspiracy theories and dragging almost every “hero” name into the mud (his attitude is very inspired by J. Jonah Jameson from Spiderman). He believes they’re menaces and should stay out of the city’s local problems because 9/10 they somehow make it worse. He’s very critical of these 4 in particular, and it doesn’t help that they all like to personally mess with him for the fun of it

Far off in the city outskirts, a living folktale hides in the forest. An amalgamation of creatures that make up one giant monster, and coming across their path is…certainly an experience. They speak in poetry and think out loud, peering deep into the soul of their visitor with just a few words. Sightings are few and far in between, but each interaction is memorable- to say the least. Their name is Joe Hills. A very close friend to King Cleo (but nobody else knows that)

And! an explanation to HotGuy’s mobility aid

With the best high-tech, Scar’s wheelchair can reshape into a mechanical griffin with the press of a button. It lets him take to the sky and hotguy targets! Griffins also have conflicting symbolism, which reflects his persona

Good and Evil. Light and Dark. They’re said to be harbingers of chaos. Mischief certainly seems to follow HotGuy wherever he goes. Be wary of his smirk

They’re also said to be gentle protectors. He shows up to help citizens and tiny creatures alike. With a voice so soothing, any trouble they face is wiped off like nothing (or, ends up feeling a little easier to handle)

Griffins are one of the most remarkable creatures in mythology, their stories told and twisted through generations, but how does the griffin tell his own story?

[queer-geordie-dyke]

When you hear a Jew say “My ancestral homeland is important to me, to my culture and traditions. Israel means something to us as as a people and we believe it has every right to exist and to defend the lives and safety of its citizens like any other nation on earth,” and you hear “We want all Palestinians dead actually. Yay, genocide,” then that is very much a you problem and you are absolutely operating from a standpoint of ingrained antisemitism.

I follow many Zionists (while my own personal viewpoint is very much pro-Zionist, I won’t ever call myself one because I am not Jewish and it is not my place), and *all* of them without exception, are intelligent, reasonable, peaceful people who want nothing more than the safe return of the hostages held in Gaza, a ceasefire that will guarantee the safety of Israeli and Palestinian civilians alike, and hope for a chance of a future that will uphold the dignity and well being of peoples on both sides of the border. And they are vilified as the worst people alive because they care about Israel and its continued security and the safety of 10 million human beings within its borders.

Meanwhile, almost without exception, any antizionists I’ve come across, as well as having a fundamental misunderstanding of what they’re purporting to be against, have been wildly aggressive, abusive, and think absolutely nothing of using the most vile, violent, dehumanising rhetoric I have ever seen in my life and then have the audacity to bleat about being “on the right side of history.”

I absolutely know where and with who I stand and I do so without apology.

Do you?

[thrashkink-coven]

Things for beginners to know before starting demonolatry or demonology practices

1. The classifications of demons were written by humans, not demons.

Different occult schools of thought will have different understandings of the Hierarchies of Hell, whether Hell even exists, and what attributes are associated with each demon. In some sects Lucifer reigns supreme Emperor of Hell, in others it is Sammael, Moloch, or Baal. It all depends on the perspective of the practitioner. All of these models are equally correct and incorrect. Documentation of de(a)mons were often written by right hand practitioners who saw them as evil, therefore their negative attitudes are emphasized. Other times devotees have documented the same entity as being very kind and affectionate. It is incredibly important to take into account who is speaking whenever you read about demons. No single book or author can deliver to you the most **objective** facts about these demons or the model of reality, if they claim to, they’re lying to you. You as the practitioner must discover and decide what reins true in your reality. Teachers and gurus may influence you but ultimately you must make the decision for yourself.

2. Assume all spirits are multi dimensional

Lucifer, the light bringer, is also the spirit of darkness. He is the sweet prince and the adversary, he is a devil and an angel. It is extremely rare that you will encounter a spirit that is only one thing. There is a little bit of truth to everyone’s interactions. To a Luciferian, Lucifer is a guide, a companion, and a positive presence. To a Christian he is an adversary, a tempter, liar and bringer of evil ; and there is an entire rainbow of other experiences that contribute to the understanding of “Lucifer”. Demons are not all good nor are they all bad, trying to paint them in only one light will only lead to disappointment and confusion. It is just as foolish to assume that a so called angel will always be pleasant and nice, as it is to assume a so called demon will be terrible and mean. Every energy interacts with every person uniquely.

3. Scary and intimidating doesn’t automatically mean “evil”

Nice and pleasing doesn’t automatically mean “good”

If you’re interacting with demons or spirits associated with death, it shouldn’t be very surprising that they’re dark, mysterious, or have a frightening appearance. If you’re dealing with demons or spirits of sex and lust, it shouldn’t be very surprising that they’re alluring, attractive, or beautiful. This doesn’t mean that the scary demon is going to kill you, and this doesn’t mean that the sexy demon is going to fuck you. There are very likely going to be times when your demons will scare you. This doesn’t mean that they’re going to hurt you or possess you (they shouldn’t be frightening you to the point of constant paranoia, but seeing some “disturbing” or strange imagery isn’t out of the norm when you’re contacting a de(a)mon).

If you enter a deep dark cave looking for a bear, don’t be surprised when you see sharp teeth. Demons of violence may summon gory imagery. Demons of death my feel cold and distant. A large part of demonolatry is understanding your fear and overcoming it.

4. Yeah, it’s intense.

Okay. This is hard for me to explain. Infernal spirits and angels alike are entities that force you to confront your innermost self and change. It’s not always spooky and scary and whimsical. Sometimes it’s losing your dead end job, having a serious breakup, losing toxic friends, or having a personal epiphany. When I say it’s intense, I don’t mean that I’m levitating and seeing gnarly gory shit and summoning demons while covered in blood all the time. I have dreams and experiences of course, but seeing a demon work is not about the theatrics. Are you ready to confront the things you rrrrreeaaaaalllly don’t want to think about? Your trauma, the lies you tell yourself to get through the day, and the toxic cycles you comfort yourself with?

Lord Lucifer has made me cry many MANY times. But it was never because he hurt or scared me. I’ve seen many demonolaters refer to Lucifer as a therapist and I couldn’t agree more. He not only changes your understanding of yourself, but others and the world. Through this understanding you can change yourself, and others, and the world.

5. You as the practitioner need to be able to withstand the symptoms of your demonic relationships

Being in a relationship with Lilith or Asmoday is not an excuse to develop a porn addiction. Being in a relationship with Lucifer does not give you the right to psychoanalyze all of your friends, being in a relationship with Eligos is not an excuse to destroy all of your relationships or be cruel towards others. Demons represent energies and concepts that are unfavourable to the masses. When working with Astaroth I will feel more lustful, just by being in her proximity. That is not justification to cheat on my partner or force myself onto him. As much as demons like Lucifer for example can inspire us to be wise and sharp, he can also influence us to be vein and narcissistic. We must always be aware of these effects and resist them, working with demons and shadows does not mean becoming the worst version of ourselves, quite the contrary. Interacting with these negative aspects is meant to show you how to overcome them.

6. Demons cannot and will not replace your relationships with humans

I am very pro godspousing and having friendly and affectionate relationships with demons and spirits. Having said that, as much as our spirits may love us and care for us, they will not be the ones to text you good morning. They will not make you soup when you’re sick, or buy you flowers after a hard day. Demons are guides and companions, but they are not people. Trying to use demons to solve your loneliness will only lead to heart ache. You very much can have a sincere relationship with a demon or other spirit, but be aware that that relationship will not mimic your relationships with humans, and it shouldn’t. Gods and demons are not humans, therefore your relationships with them will not feel human.

7. There’s always more to learn

Devotion to any spirit is an endeavour that can take years or even a lifetime. Your work is not done because you read 3 books and browsed the Occult Wiki for an hour and a half. Become very dedicated to learning about your demons of interest and the culture that surrounds them. Yes, this means boring, tedious research.

8. No, ______ is not mad at you. Please talk to them

You will at some point inevitably do something wrong, especially if you are freshly initiated. Demons understand that we are human, we make mistakes. Instead of becoming paranoid and avoiding your demon out of fear of consequences, put on your big boy pants and confront them directly. Understand what you did wrong and learn from your mistake. There may or may not be consequences, every demon is different. But making yourself sick thinking they’re going to smite you down doesn’t make anything better. I guarantee you that talking to them about it will serve you a million times better than running away.

9. You need to know your boundaries BEFORE you reach out

As important as it is to research your demons, it is equally important to research yourself. You need to have strict boundaries that you will not negotiate. These boundaries should be outlined in your contract if you have one. If blood magic is uncomfortable for you, don’t allow any demon or spirit to coerce you into giving it until you are ready. If you’re a minor you’re more than allowed to not do sex magic. This relationship belongs to you as much as it does your demon(s). If it doesn’t serve you, simply refuse it.

10. On that note, demons can and will reject you. You can and will reject them as well.

On many occasions I have approached spirits who did not want to work with me at the moment. Sometimes they end up showing up later in my life, other times they never do. Oftentimes this is because of an incongruency on an alchemical level, we just aren’t meant for each other. It doesn’t necessarily mean you’re doing anything wrong. Sometimes you are, but your demon or deity will usually make that clear to you in some way. Don’t force it. If I’m already terribly preoccupied with life or other spiritual relationships, I’m within my right to reject another demon trying to enter my circle. That isn’t a rude thing to do. I’m within my right to deny a ritual I don’t have the energy or resources for. We can put it on the back burner for now.

Likewise, if a demon or spirit is repeatedly overstepping my boundaries or harming me in any way, I can (and should) leave that demon. If I’m not doing enough or causing insult, that demon can leave me. As binding as devotional contracts can be, we are not trapped with each other if we choose not to be.

11. Protection shouldn’t only be against spirits. Be very aware of your surroundings and the people around you

Learn the power of secrecy. As a Luciferian living in an extremely conservative area, I have to be extremely careful about when my pendants are visible. I have to be careful when entering certain places because I don’t want to be hate crimed or harassed. Yes, being out and proud of my demonic relationships is very important to me, but it is not worth risking real danger from bigots, or risking my employment. When I go to work, I have to leave my Lucifer ring at home, not because my work is discriminatory, but because I don’t know when I’m speaking to a christofascist grandma who would make a complaint to my boss because she saw my devotional ring. I don’t know which of my coworkers would make my life more difficult if they knew about my practice. If you are visible, people will approach you and make comments. Now, there are those of us who don’t give a fuck, and on most days I don’t. But for those of us who are vulnerable to that kind of discrimination, please be aware.

12. Self mutilation is not demonolatry

If you choose to offer blood it should be no more than a few drops. You should be using safe tools like a lancet, and disinfecting the area you extract from. This should be done in the least harmful manner possible. Devotional markings or tattoos should be done by a professional.

13. This stuff takes time. Relax

These relationships don’t develop in 24 hours. It takes a tremendous amount of repeated effort to gain the favour of a demon or spirit. If you’re not getting the results you want, take a break, reevaluate your methods, and try again later.