#and i wanted closure maybe so i wanted to reread it
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
isinuyasha-art · 7 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
32 notes · View notes
carriesthewind · 3 months ago
Text
I reread the IA's contemporaneous post justifying their "National Emergency Library", and one of the things that struck me is just how selfish it was.
(It was also full of falsehoods, ranging from exaggeration to outright lies, but that's another matter.)
While 2020 feels like it was several decades in the past, it was actually only a few years ago. And I remember March of 2020! I was there! And oh my god, is this post right in line with every other selfish, demanding asshole determined to make a global pandemic all about themselves!
First of all, there is the language of the post - it is a "tremendous and historic outage" that books are unavailable to patrons because libraries are closed for the pandemic. "Right now, today, there are 650 million books that tax-paying citizens have paid to access that are sitting on shelves in closed libraries, inaccessible to them."
Missing from this outrage is a recognition that, like. Librarians are people. They get sick, and die.
They did get sick, and died.
Libraries were closed not only to protect patrons and the public, but librarians too. Libraries were closed to protect people, human beings. Because generally speaking, even the most enthusiastic supporters of access to books and knowledge, prioritize lives over books.
The AI's post, however, reeks of an entitlement to things that *my* tax dollars paid for. Libraries and library collections aren't a public good. They're something *I* should be able to access anytime I want, damn the context or the consequences.
(Was it also a historic outrage when I had to wait several months to check out Nona the Ninth, because so many other people were checking it out?)
Second, as I said, I remember early 2020. And in spring and summer of 2020, there was more free content on the internet than before or since. So many people and so many institutions were bending over backwards to provide people with books and tv shows and music and podcasts and virtual tours and collections and just about anything that someone could figure out how to digitize. So many people were giving away books for free, or writing/recording new content to give away for free. I can't even remember how many times I heard or read someone telling their readers or listeners just to pay what they could, if they could. So many people and institutions were giving away so much, do so much, to provide access to knowledge and books and entertainment and information.
And in that moment, the IA decided to steal from people. When so many people, so many authors, were acting so selflessly, they decided that it wasn't good enough. And instead of giving away themselves, they decided to steal from authors and pat themselves on the back for "meet[ing] this unprecedented need," when they didn't even actually do anything themselves. Or maybe more accurately, the only thing they did was something irrelevant to the actual needs of the community, something they wanted to do anyway, something to try to use a pandemic as an excuse to advance their agenda.
Because third, there is zero concern for the population of patrons actually most impacted by the closure. The IA cares, to a fault, only about information being digitized.* But many people who use physical libraries, many of the people most impacted by their closure, are people who do not have access to the AI's so-called "open library." And people who could access digital books generally continued to have access to their library's e-book services, and to tons of other free content. The patrons who were actually in the most need are ignored as irrelevant.
*And I want to be clear - they care that information is digitized, not about digital access. "Access" means more than information being digitized and theoretically being able to be read.
It's so clear that IA didn't really care about the patrons of physical libraries. Instead, they saw a real problem, and instead of working toward any solutions, decided to use it as a prop to push their own agenda. (Again, while people were dying.)
It's just all so deeply selfish.
1K notes · View notes
chilschuck · 7 months ago
Note
AAAA i love your blog!! could i pls request a post-canon scenario where chilchuck finally admits his feelings for reader now that they’re not co-workers anymore >_< (assuming reader joined the laios party during the story)
`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ WAAAAH ANON i’m so happy you love my stuff!! i LOVEDDD writing this for you, and i have another request in my askbox that’s similar that i’m going to do as well! this was super fun, and i found myself enjoying this idea and coming up with things i could do with it!!! i hope you enjoy!!! <333
Tumblr media
— SHELTER: chilchuck x gn!reader.
꒰ warnings: ꒱ none, sfw fluff!! takes place post-canon.
꒰ wc: ꒱ 1745 (got carried away again…)
✦ i’m scared to reread this, but right now I’m actually happy with it!! i hope you are too!! <333 i tried my best to keep spoilers to a minimum, and to make this fun to read!! also, the title comes from the song shelter by ray lamontagne, which i listened to while writing it. i hope you enjoy!!!
Tumblr media
With your party’s adventure finally over, you had decided to try and finally settle down as much as you could. With everyone finding their own new place in life, you did your best to find one too.
You couldn’t deny it had been rather lonely lately. Your own home was empty, a small place you had tried your best to make feel cozy. With your old party members living their own lives, you hoped you could live yours. But evidently, no matter how hard you tried, your mind always went back to him.
It was a bittersweet feeling; imagining him finally living healthily, working on helping others, and even maybe starting up that shop he talked about wanting. It wasn’t like you never saw him, but going on with every day life without him felt… mundane.
Chilchuck was working on himself, reconnecting with his family, and building the future he had hoped for. That alone helped you feel as much at peace as possible. Your feelings, to you, were not nearly as important as his own happiness. So here you waited, counting down the days you’d get to see him again. Maybe he’d be happy to see you too.
Little did you know, Chilchuck was devastatingly nervous. Buttoning up his shirt with shaky fingers, he tried his best to look as decent as he possibly could. It was the final thing he felt he needed to move on, and he wasn’t going to let himself ruin it. Not this, he told himself. There were some things he refused to let slip through his fingers, and one of them were his feelings he had developed for you.
Through it all, you had been by his side. An integral part of the party, you had built him up when he needed it most. Looking past all the mistakes, all the cynicism he liked to cloud himself with, you proved how much you simply cared. Not only for him, but for everyone. Chilchuck had fallen in love with you, and for once, he didn’t want to push those feelings down.
He had bought the flowers he knew you liked, tied with a sweet ribbon that he felt maybe was a bit too much. In fact, maybe all of this was a bit too much, but he hoped it’d work. Chilchuck even went to talk to Marcille about it all, a sign in his own mind that he was more smitten than he had been in years. Not to mention that he had, in fact, reconnected with his ex-wife, and had gained the closure he needed to take this big of a step. There was nothing holding him back now, and he could only hope the words of encouragement he was given would hold true.
Chilchuck had visited your home before, always noting just how comfortable he felt there. You were always happy to have guests lately, and he felt himself praying that this would be the case this time, too. Fist raised in front of your door, he took a deep breath before rapping it against the wood.
The knock came as a surprise, but not as surprising as the person who was behind it. Your eyes widened, his name leaving your lips in delight. “Chilchuck, hello!” It was slightly out of breath from the sheer excitement you had to try and suppress at seeing him here in front of you. Moving to the side, you motioned him in. “Do you… Want to come in?”
One hand behind his back still, trying his best to not snap the stems of the delicate flowers between his fingers, he nodded. “Yeah, sorry for the sudden visit.”
Shaking your head, you walked inside to prepare him something to drink. “Not at all! You know me… I could never say no to seeing you.”
It felt like another of Cupid’s arrows shot him through the chest. Maybe he shouldn’t look too deeply into your words, at least not yet. Following you inside, Chilchuck found himself trying his best to find anything to look at of interest. The plants on your shelves, the well loved books on the table, the occasional trinket you had decided you couldn’t live without… Everything that made it feel so much like you.
While you fiddled around in your small kitchen, Chilchuck cleared his throat. His mouth felt dry, and to try and slow down the thoughts rushing through his head, he spoke up again. “You know… You’ve done a great job with this place. I remember when you bought it.”
You couldn’t help but smile, thinking back fondly of how proud you were. Preparing you both glasses of wine, you turned your attention to him for a moment. “That means a lot, thank you. How have things been with the guild?”
Chilchuck hummed, eyes studying a particular painting on your wall. “Good… Pretty much the usual. Things are going pretty well. What about you, anything interesting since we last saw each other?”
Other than your constant war on your feelings for the half-foot, you’ve been trying new hobbies in order to distract yourself. As you turned to hand him the glass, you racked your brain for something to say. Giving him a sheepish smile, you shook your head. “Not particularly. Here, it’s one you like. Let’s go sit, yeah?”
He held your gaze for a moment, the flowers in his hand a constant reminder of what he was here for. Swallowing hard, he opened his mouth to speak. “Yeah. But first, I have something to give you…”
Finally taking the hand from behind his back, he steeled himself as much as he could before holding them out to you. Quickly setting the glasses down, you let out a sound of surprise. Your hands reached out for them, as delicate as possible.
Chilchuck felt like his face was a bit too hot for something as simple as this, but it’s been such a long time since he’s had to really woo anyone. How the hell did he manage to do this all those years ago? Scratching the back of his head, he broke the silence between the two of you.
“They’re your favorites, right? I happened to see ‘em and thought you’d be happy.”
Although Chilchuck felt like he was doing a piss poor job at this, you felt like you were swooning all over again. You know how much he used actions as a love language, yet could you even call it that in this situation? Friends did nice things for each other, yet…
His brows were furrowed in determination, the tips of his ears rosy and suddenly you felt like maybe there was something there. Your gaze fell to the buds in your hands, freshly picked and done so with care. The smile that made its way on your features was unabashed.
“Yes, yes they’re my favorites… I can’t believe you remembered that. Let me go get something to put them in. Thank you so much, Chil.”
It was worth it just to see you smile like that. Even if he felt a little ridiculous at the action, it paid off when you held the vase proudly in your hands. “I’m going to put them on my desk. I love them…” You spoke softly, your own cheeks turning that shade of pink he loved so much. For a few moments, it became silent again, his brain scrambling for what to say next.
“You asked me about my plans after our adventure was over. There… was something I wasn’t honest about. And I want to be honest about it now.”
Chilchuck made sure to correctly word everything he needed to say. Taking time in between his sentences, his gaze returned to yours. There was something there that you had only hoped you’d seen in the past; a taste of desire.
“I want to be there for you. I know we’re no longer coworkers, so…” The words fell silent, you remaining patient through his pauses. Softly, you gave a gentle phrase of reassurance. “You’re already there for me, I know that, Chil—”
Raising a hand, he silenced you. Contemplation took over his features, that worry line between his brows that you always found endearing still making an appearance. You waited for him to elaborate.
“…As more than friends.”
Your heart stopped. Did you hear him correctly? Certainly you did, your voice having gotten stuck in your throat as you tried to wrap your head around the weight those words carried. Was he saying that, this whole time, you’ve been a goal all along? Hearing your name, you snapped your attention back to him.
“I want to be more honest with how I feel. I know how I used to be, and I’m working towards fixing it.” His deep brown eyes held a small glimmer of hope, of vulnerability. Chilchuck was trying, and he was trying for you.
Feeling as if the wind was knocked out of your lungs, you asked shakily, “You want…?”
He smiled, a small etch in his features. Huffing, Chilchuck fiddled with the collar of his shirt. “You’re really gonna make me spell it out for you? I… Have feelings for you. If you don’t feel the same I get it, don’t—“
Before he could finish his sentence, you hurriedly set the flowers down before just about tackling him. The shock of hearing him say exactly what you’d been wishing for so long melted into a need to relay exactly how you felt. Chilchuck grunted at the impact, nearly toppling over.
“Of course I feel the same! You think I’d put up with your grumpy ass for this long if I didn’t?” You couldn’t help the teasing words that followed, pulling away from him to grin widely at him. “Can I kiss you?”
Your excitement caught him even more off guard, eyes widening at your question. “Sorry, that was probably a bit too much—“
Instead of giving you a verbal answer, Chilchuck tugged you to his lips in a desperate attempt to get you to just shut up and do it. You happily obliged, only pulling away to ask one more question. “How long?”
Chilchuck panted, confusion evident on his features. “What?”
“How long have you felt this way?” Your curiosity was getting the better of you, wondering just how long you two had managed to dance around each other like this. Chilchuck sighed, giving the only answer he could think to say:
“Too long.”
Tumblr media
— dividers by @/cafekitsune! <3
409 notes · View notes
cloud-laufeyson · 1 year ago
Text
Mistakes Happen
Mike Schmidt x Fem!Reader
Summary: You help Mike after getting a call from Abby.
Reader’s pronouns: she/her
Word Count: 946
Story Contains: enemies to lovers
Notes: I did not reread this, I'm so sorry. I will be writing a longer fanfic
Tumblr media
“Y/N please come to my place! I need help!” You didn’t even get a chance to ask any questions, Abby hung up. It felt like your mind was going 100 miles per hour. You excused yourself from the professor's class and ran to your car. You broke every single speed limit known to man. ‘Why on earth would ABBY call me and not Mike?’ You parked in front of Mike’s house and burst through the door. 
“ABBY!!” You yelled throughout the whole house. Abby came running to you and took your hand. “It’s Mike, I don’t know what’s wrong, he didn't come home last night!” She is crying, her eyes are so puffy. You went down to one knee. “Abby, breath. I will go find him. Please stay here okay?” You tried getting back up, but Abby yanked your hand down. “Let me come with you.” You had to be stern or else she wouldn’t drop it. “No. Stay here.” Abby looked like she was going to protest. “No questions, stay.” Abby ran to her room and slammed the door. You walked out the house and locked it.
You and Mike weren’t…on great terms. You two used to go find contract jobs together, but you stopped because you wanted to go to college and wanted to get a steadier job. You two were close, but you stopped. Mike wouldn’t let you explain. Mike didn’t talk to you for a long time, but a year later he needed a babysitter and you were the only person left he could think of. You were still mad at him, but adored Abby. Mike had his own problems and you never wanted Abby to see that. 
You drove to his new job at this abandoned pizzeria. You saw Mike’s car so you locked yours and looked inside his. Nothing was there so you went inside the pizzeria. You walked through the entire building until you found a security room. Mike was there, passed out on the desk. You rolled your eyes and huffed. “Mike, wake up.” You nudged him but he didn’t wake up. You got close to his ear and yelled, “MIKE!” With that, he gasped and jolted awake. “What the fuck y/n?” You snickered a bit, but saw the sleeping pills. You got frustrated within seconds. “What’s that?” You ask with a knowing tone. Mike grabbed the bottle and shoved it in his pocket. “Nothing,” he mumbled. 
“Stop lying to me, you coward.” Mike got instantly angry after you called him that. “Excuse me?” 
“You heard me Mike. You said you were going to stop with those things after everything that happened here!” You huff and start pacing. Mike sighed, “Why do you care? I said I was trying to do better.” You stopped pacing and stared him down.
“Why do I care? Mmmm I don’t know maybe because Abby called me crying saying her big brother wasn’t home. And you call THIS doing better? Giving up on Abby isn’t better.” You kept pointing your index finger at him. Mike sighed really loudly. “I’m trying.” He whispered and you laughed at his response. “Trying? Any more lies to tell me?” You start pacing again. “I’m leaving.” Mike says as he grabs his jacket, walking past you and nudging you. “Of course you are, that’s all you know how to do.” Mike looked back. “Don’t say that.”
“Mike, pull yourself together. We may hate each other, but I care for Abby so much. You hurt her today. She was crying.” You frown and shake your head. Mike walks back over to you. “Why did you leave me?” You were in shock. “What?” 
“Why did you leave? You were always job hopping with me.” Mike looks at you with pleading eyes. You sigh, “Mike I told you. I wanted a job that would last more than 3 months. I wanted to go back to college. I didn’t want to leave you behind. I was prepared to still see you and Abby everyday.” You explain, hoping Mike would understand. He sighs, feeling the closure. “I get it. I was so mad…” He trails off into his own world. You walk up closer to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders. Mike just stood there hesitating. “I know you were…I’m sorry.” He hugged you back after you said those words. “I’m sorry too,” Mike whispers into your ear, melting into the hug. You two enjoy the moment for a few seconds. 
“I’ll promise to talk to you everyday if you promise me you’ll stop with those pills.” Mike sighs at your proposal and eventually agrees. “Okay.” He took the pills out of his pockets and threw them in the garbage can across the room. You smile and look at him. “Thank you. Now you need to go home and see Abby.” You start to walk away. 
“Y/n?” You hear Mike call your name. You turn around and without being able to say anything, you feel his lips on your own. They were a bit chapped, but so warm. You melt into the kiss, kissing him back, finding your hands in his hair. The kiss is so passionate and goes on for a minute. Mike pulls away slowly. “You don’t know how long I've been wanting to do that,” Mike says, breathing heavily, still keeping eye contact with you. You were staring at him. “I’ve been waiting for that since the day I met you,” you say laughing a bit. Mike kisses you one more time. 
“Want to spend the night over? Abby and I did scare you today.” Mike smiles, grabbing your hand to walk you both out.
737 notes · View notes
seablobnotsleepingwell · 7 days ago
Text
I love Sethos dearly. So welcome to my Ted talk about how crazy his life actually is.
He is currently the leader of Temple of Silence. And he HAD to take this position after the only parent figure in his life passed away, which their doctors said will happen quite a time ago. So he had to prepare himself for death of his grandfather, and also how to be a good leader. And Temple of Silence is not a easy place to rule. There is centuries of secrets, historical records dated to King Deshret, maybe even pieces of forbidden knowledge, who knows? Welp, only Temple of Silence knows. Also, they had to protect themselves from the eyesight of the Akademia, let's remember that this guys weren't friendly at all until Nahida took over.
Then, he had to face the battle with Cyno, who I believe was a take of the fresh air in Sethos's life. And I can see just how much enthusiastic Sethos is, especially his lines about rain or how he gone camping in the forest. All of it happened after he became a leader. He never had that. Never had a chance to go there, and look around peacefully, only when there was no one to tell him what to do. He also have a line about how elders of the Temple say that he is difficult to control, and he is like that. He wants freedom, he wants closure, he wants to decide for the best outcome. And I can see a little glimpse of it being a burden.
About that, I doubt he had friends. Like real friends, not ones that stick around because he have authority, and ones that feel obligated to listen to everything he says. Just people who understand, he have a character stories that I can't stop rereading. Lets review a couple situations.
Cyno is a tread to Sumeru city, and he brought him there. During the end of his 2nd story quest he invited him there, knowing Cyno, he knew right away where is he, and how things work there, and I personally think he understood Sethos. In his own way of course, but still.
I love the fact that they are close friends, and Sethos is already trying to escape the TCG. I love that so much. They are comfortable enough to be own self with each other.
Also, there is a character story where Cyno asks Sethos how his trip to desert was with some researcher, who didn't believe that Sethos is from desert, and that trip was pointless and he said that he is from the desert and they would not find anything that researcher trying to find, Cyno mentions that he and their group could confirm to that man that this is true. Knowing Cyno, I saw there an attempt to protect Sethos from some idiot who dared to doubt him. I leave it there like that.
Understanding is what tracks to Wanderer as well. During Sethos character story n1, they had such an amazing conversation (never expected to see that Wander would not insult someone right away)
"You are not an errand boy, you have more important role
And you are not the student, you have more important role"
Here. There it is.
To empathize and understand. They did not had to say anything out loud like that, and even more than that, to even interact. Let's dive into that, it's my personal favorite land to be in before I go to bed at 3 am.
They emphasize with each other. One knows something, and the other knows something. And the both know something.
I love their little game of knowledge. Especially seeing how Sethos recently said "since I know you pretty well". You saying that Wanderer didn't trew you off the cliff for talking to him? That's a win Sethos, have a cookie my dear.
It's just amazing for me how this guy is able to be so much. Just so much. Sometimes I think he is tweaking out of the amount of energy and curiosity he have in himself.
And Paimon said recently the line that just amazed me even more "So you are really is able to be friends with everyone huh"
Thank you Paimon. I can rest peacefully now. Everyone love this guy and I will die on that hill. Because I love him too. He is a little kitten.
A kitten that could drag you into Academical crime, by drinking with you, you are 16yo student btw with addiction to gambling, and make you write a really not that nice of a letter to one of the respected pretty old professor, drag that professor to the desert, to the Temple, and then wait for the beholder of other fragment of Hermanubis, kinda ancient God, whose another part you held most of your life. Battle with him. Face the death of your only person who is "family". Become a leader of old and secret organization. Meet the famous traveler. Move to the Sumeru city. Go from one place to the another time to time to settle things. Negotiate with your archon and Akademia how things between you should work. Oh, there is also a lot of people at Temple you need to take care of now. And you probably already been doing that for a couple of years, since your grandfather was in a really bad state of health. Don't forget to go find the Hat guy, he is interesting, and you just have to talk to him. Oh, there is general mahahamatra, is he holding a TCG deck? Shit. Oh, and you need to pack a bag to go camping as well.
Absolutely love that guy.
I love that he is well written, he is a nice guy, sure. But he a leader, and he is good leader. He will not hesitate to achieve something that is needed to be done. When we first met him, he doesn't make an impression of the good guy right away. There is things happening, and he have to do most of it. To me, he will not think twice about danger, of himself, or someone. If he have to manipulate or fight. He will. Don't even start here, I walked around the Temple, and they know what a fight is. There is a whole training area with all kinds of weapon. And our guy is packed okay. Look at his arms, even a little of the chest ther is going on. And he is fast, that is something he is known for in the Sumeru city.
Yes, he is a kitten. But not a soft one for sure. Soft looking I'd say. And let's not forget that he is from the desert, he lived there his whole life, he's a tough guy. He is choosing not to be.
Now take a look at the Wanderer. Here is where the understanding is coming from. Understanding of desire to grow. To change for the better. To have hope and making things better. To finally have a chance to decide for yourself what to do(beside homework of course). To have freedom to form yourself, and take a look for something good.
Also, his hair is amazing, I wish I had that kind of hair😭
Thank you, my TED talk is over.
37 notes · View notes
sebastianravkin · 4 months ago
Text
A FUNERAL FOR NEIL-GAIMAN
My hyper fixated autistic mind keeps running the Neil-Gaiman allegations around and around in my head and I need to find a way to move past the hero in my mind. Even though I believed Neil-Gaiman when he said ‘you never want to meet your heroes’, even though I am old enough to know better, even though I assumed Neil-Gaiman probably had issues and hangups that didn’t come through in his friendly and wise public persona, I have still been hit hard by the extent that I was wrong. I need ritual, closure, a way to move on. So I WILL BE HOLDING A PRIVATE FUNERAL FOR MY HEAD-CANON NEIL-GAIMAN. Maybe others want to hold their own funerals, maybe it will help, and so I put this out there for you to consider.    
To be clear - and many may disagree and I am fine with that - I do not care in theory if Neil slept with younger women, I slept with older men and think of myself as better for it. I do not care that Neil practices BDSM as long as it is safe and consensual. I do not care if Neil had an open marriage if it was agreed upon by both parties. I believe Neil is autistic, and that can make intimate (or really any) communication difficult sometimes, but I do not think that is an excuse. I believe Neil suffers depression and suicidal ideation, but I do not think that gives him a pass for treating others poorly. 
I care that Neil took advantage of women who were at a disadvantage - financially, professionally, mentally, emotionally. I care that he was proposing sex with women after being married to his first wife for only a year and who was probably obliviously at home with their new baby. I care that Neil is no where near the man I thought he was, I hoped he was, I believed he was and that made the world a slightly better place. 
So, I will be holding a funeral for Neil-Gaiman. For the man who spoke of his own heroes - Terry Pratchett and Gene Wolfe - as polite and kind and wise and (I made the mistake of assuming) as role-models for his own behavior. For the man who appeared to be so kind and funny, with no ulterior motives, on Tumblr to so many fans. For the man who has written the books that I have read and reread to get through various crises in my life and so I assumed he had a deeper wisdom than I about life. For the man that I had a serious crush on since the 1990s. For the man who inspired various aspects of my own writing about, and understanding of, humanity. This man is fictionally dead, because this man was a fiction. His art lives on, and I will continue to love the art because I can not simply turn that off. 
What will this funeral be like? Probably some candles. Probably some tears. Probably burning a photo or two, but never never a book. Comfort food, definitely. Sad music. Maybe watch my favorite moments in Good Omens. Or read my favorite short story in Trigger Warnings. Or maybe just work my way through The Sandman again. I will grieve him like I grieve the end of a good book, or the death of a favorite character in a story, or the loss of a favorite place on the landscape.
The fact that there is some other dude out there that looks like Neil-Gaiman, who I think of as just Neil (because every ‘Neil’ I have known was an ass, which should have been a red flag really), is too bad. Maybe Neil is self-destructive, maybe Neil harms others to harm himself, maybe Neil will find help, find a way back from the depths he has thrown himself into. Or maybe Neil is just a dick; always has been, always will be. You can be autistic and self-loathing and depressive and suicidal and still be kind. But you can also be all of those things, and also just be a dick.
R.I.P. Neil-Gaiman.  I am done. I have no more to say on this.
38 notes · View notes
takingchences · 24 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐩𝐭. 𝟏𝟖
A descendant of a legendary quirk longs to separate herself from her family name, but first she'll have to confront villains, ghosts from the past, and her growing attraction for Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.
Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x fem!oc
Warnings: mature language
series masterlist + my masterlist
It was nearing midnight as Sana sat in the floor of her bedroom, her half-empty suitcase sitting abandoned off to the side as she stared down at the two letters in her lap. One was her letter from U.A informing her of her recommendation. The other letter was from Monoma. Or, to be more specific, Monoma's mother.
Or, to be even more specific... her aunt.
She'd finally gotten around to reading it, having rediscovered its existence as she packed for the internships, then reread it again about half a dozen times as she tried to process the news. Despite the boy's claims that it would tell her everything she needed to know, she felt more confused than ever. The woman introduced herself as Kurumi Monoma, formerly Kurumi Takahashi.
Her maternal aunt.
Until that moment, Sana had no idea she even had an aunt. Her mother's side of the family—much like the woman herself—was a complete mystery. She'd never met her maternal grandparents, nor did she know their names. Her father and his family refused to even acknowledge that Suzume had existed... or that at one point in time, she'd been a Sakano herself.
We really are cursed. Sana almost laughed at the irony of it all. They were famous for their light powers, but there was so much darkness surrounding her family's history. It was just as Monoma said at the festival.
"It's kind of ironic, isn't it?" He'd laughed. "That the brightest lights cast the darkest shadows."
It sort of made sense now, why he'd taunted her like that during the cavalry battle. He must've thought she was aware of their connection and been offended by the fact that she refused to acknowledge him or his family even when they were standing face to face. Sana was still upset by some of the things he'd said, especially since he'd made such crude comments in front of her friends as well as his, but she could understand where he was coming from. Tensions were high the day of the Sports Festival and emotions ran wild with the adrenaline coursing through their veins.
Kurumi had gone on to explain in her letter how she'd recognized Sana while watching the program and had asked her son to reach out to her. The woman seemed nice, even including her phone number so that Sana could contact her if she wished. She was hesitant to use the number, not sure what she would even say.
The strawberry blonde couldn't fault the woman for wanting to get to know her. Maybe they both needed the closure, so that they wouldn't have to constantly wonder what might've been. Or maybe it was out of a sense of duty. If they were truly family as she claimed, then maybe the woman felt responsible for her. Maybe she wanted to see if she was well. The Sakanos were severely lacking in the loving family department. As her sister, Kurumi must've heard stories about what they were like from Suzume.
Maybe this could be something good. Sana reread the letter for what felt like the hundredth time. I could finally learn about my mom.
The solar girl was so afraid to hope, to move on from all the heartache and one day be happy. Katsuki and the others pulled her out of that lonely place. Her friends from U.A accepted her when no one else did, not even Shoto. To now learn that there are people out there that might care about her—not for press coverage and appearances, but real, genuine affection... It was terrifying. Because she'd experienced that feeling before, long ago, and having it all ripped away so suddenly had nearly destroyed her.
Setting the personalized letter aside, she turned her attention to the recommendation letter.
Dear Ms. Sakano,
We are writing to inform you of your status as a recommended student. The hero that sponsored you has asked to remain anonymous for the time being. As a recommendation applicant, you will be required to-
Sana sighed, tossing the paper away. The letter went on to tell her the date and time of her exam. There wasn't a single clue in the letter indicating who had recommended her to U.A. It wasn't like she knew that many Pro Heroes besides Endeavor. Her father's low opinion on the hero profession was made very public very early on in his career. She assumed that as his flesh and blood, the heroes would not take kindly to her either.
Except one did.
And she had no idea who or why.
What did they have to gain from recommending her? Why would they help her achieve her dream when her own father actively fought to end theirs? She groaned, running a hand through her hair. "Time for bed," she sighed, eyeing the clock. "I have a long day ahead of me."
¸☾⋆*・゚¸☾⋆*・゚¸☾⋆*
The entire class of 1-A was gathered at the train station with their belongings. It was the wee hours of the morning, the sun hadn't even fully risen yet. They collected their train tickets from their teacher and were grouped accordingly by their destinations.
"You all have your costumes, right?" Mr. Aizawa somehow looked even more haggard than usual, probably because of how early they had to meet at the train station. After all, some of them would be riding the train for hours to get to their agencies. They would be traveling all over the country for their internships: Tokyo, Kyushu, Hosu, etc. It was better to send them off all at once. "Remember, you aren't allowed to wear them in public. Don't drop them or anything."
"Yessir!"
"Speak clearly! It's 'yes, sir,' Ashido." Their homeroom teacher scolded with a tired sigh.
"Yes, sir..." the pinkette slumped in defeat. Sana nudged her with a small smile, which Mina eventually returned.
"Make sure you mind your manners with the heroes at your internships!" His hair stood up and his eyes glowed as he activated his quirk threateningly, then he jerked his chin towards the trains, letting his hair fall back down. He rubbed his bloodshot eyes. "Now, off with you."
"Yes, sir!" They yelled, breaking off in different directions to find their boarding stations. Mina and Sana squeezed each other tightly before parting ways, promising to text and video chat when available.
The internships would last exactly one week, and it was strangely thrilling to think how different they'll all be when school starts back. In the next few days, they'll grow and develop under the supervision of real pros. It wasn't the same as learning from the heroes of U.A. Those lessons, while practical and informative, are conducted in a classroom in a controlled environment. This time, they would be actively patrolling the streets and gaining on-hand knowledge and experience.
The Sakano girl couldn't wait to get started.
A certain ash blonde stood off to the side with his hands in his pockets, purposefully avoiding her gaze. Sana stopped next to him and tilted her head. "Are you waiting on something?" She lifted herself on the tips of her toes with a cheeky grin. "A good morning kiss, perhaps?" She whispered.
He scoffed, pushing off the wall to walk away. "Shuddup and grab your shit."
The pastel-haired girl easily caught up to him, practically skipping with excitement. "So... Best Jeanist, huh?" He arched a pale brow. "I just never pegged you for a fan." Sana innocently shrugged. "He's so polite and charismatic and you're so..." Vermillion eyes narrowed the longer the silence dragged on. "Not."
Bakugou tched, observing the passing commuters as they took their seats by the window. Their overnight bags and costumes were loaded into a compartment above their heads. "It's not about being a fan, idiot. He's ranked in the top five. If anyone can teach me something, it's him." Sana nodded, leaning back in her seat as the train slowly pulled forward. He turned away from the window to face her. "Why did you pick Mirko, anyway? Your quirks couldn't be more different." He knocked on the side of her head with his knuckles, making her hiss. "You were supposed to pick someone that could help you, dumbass!"
She glared at him, rubbing the tender spot. "Your quirk is just as different compared to Jeanist's! Besides, I wouldn't say there was a specific reason," she tried to explain. "More like, when I really thought about what I wanted to get out of this experience, she seemed like the best choice."
Bakugou perched his cheek against his fist as he gazed through the window, watching the sky go from a dusky purple to a hazy peach. Soft golden rays slipped through the gaps between skyscrapers as the sun crept higher in the sky. "What about your stupid drawback?"
Sana shrugged. "What about it?"
"You told Aizawa. You gonna tell her too?."
"I told Aizawa because he's my teacher and his quirk could help if something went wrong. Mirko's can't."
"If you'd gone to Endeavor's-" he grumbled.
"There's nothing for me there, Katsuki." She sighed, pulling her phone and earbuds out of her pocket. "No one knows how to deal with my quirk. I've accepted it and so should you." He begrudgingly dropped the subject, aware of her feelings towards the less glamorous aspects of her quirk.
"Where the hell are you even staying? She doesn't have an agency."
"We're at the same hotel as you." She stated like it was obvious.
He whipped around with furrowed brows. "HUH?"
Sana paid him no mind, her eyes trained on her phone as she played Candy Crush with one earphone in. He could faintly hear a Britney Spears song and he rolled his eyes. The peach-haired girl glanced up at him as her score was tallied. "What? It's like you said. She doesn't have her own agency, so Jeanist is letting us use his." The glint in her eye was wicked as she leaned over the armrest. "Just think, Katsuki. You'll get to wake up to this gorgeous face all week long." She pointed at herself with a gleeful grin.
He palmed her face, shoving her away with a grimace. "Fuckin' Hell."
She cackled, settling back into her seat. He turned back towards the window, frowning at the passing scenery. He didn't move as nimble fingers slipped an earbud into his ear. Didn't protest or make a fuss as girly pop music infiltrated his brain. Sana leaned into his side as she continued to play games on her phone, humming along softly under her breath.
And if anyone watching the two saw the tiny upward curve of his lips as he watched the oblivious girl with hopeless affection in his eyes... well, it was none of their damn business.
¸☾⋆*・゚¸☾⋆*・゚¸☾⋆*
The Genius Office was very modern compared to Endeavor's. Here, everything was brightly colored, the layout was more open, and the atmosphere was much more inviting. They were quickly ushered into changing rooms to wear their costumes. Jeanist was waiting for Katsuki in his office, but Mirko was nowhere to be seen. While Katsuki was escorted upstairs to meet his mentor, Sana was given a tour around the agency by some of the sidekicks.
"And this is-"
"THE HELL DID YOU CALL ME, YA DAMN FURRY?" Loud, boisterous yelling echoed down the long hallway, gaining their attention. Sana's head whipped around, immediately identifying the voice as Katsuki's. She hurried towards the lobby, the startled interns following after her. When they arrived at the scene, a woman with warm brown skin and long white hair stood smirking in front of a seething Bakugou. The boy was restrained by denim fibers as Jeanist stood behind them shaking his head in dismay.
Mirko's rabbit ears twitched and swiveled, her red eyes narrowing gleefully as she spotted her protege. "There she is!" In one mighty leap the pro landed right in front of the young girl. "Well?" Mirko tapped her foot, gloved hands on her hips. She twirled her finger in the air. "Turn and let me look at ya. I need to see what I'm working with." Sana did a slow, sarcastic spin with her arms out by her sides. Mirko smirked, crossing her arms with a snort of approval. "You're a little on the scrawny side for my taste," she scrunched her nose up. "But I can fix that no problem."
Sana huffed out a laugh. "Vlad King is scrawny compared to you, Mirko."
The rabbit hero pointed at her with one eye closed, her shit-eating grin widening. "Oh, this'll be fun, girlie." She threw a muscular arm around Sana. "See ya around, Number Four." Mirko saluted the man with two fingers, swiftly lowering one of her fingers to flip Bakugou the bird. "Teach that little runt some manners, would ya?"
Bakugou's fierce comeback was muffled as the threads wrapped around his arms and torso shot up to cover his mouth as well.
"Please refrain from such crude behavior, Mirko. You're setting a terrible example for our young guests." Best Jeanist swept his hair aside with a sigh.
The woman shrugged, unbothered by her coworker's mild scolding. "He can't get much worse, can he?" Sana covered her mouth to suppress her giggles as she was steered towards the back of the building, leaving Bakugou's muffled shouting behind them. She hadn't gotten to this portion of the tour yet, having been distracted by the arrival of her mentor. Mirko pushed open a set of heavy metal doors and strutted inside with Sana trailing behind her curiously. It was a massive room divided into sections by plexiglass. The farthest room had a large swimming pool, while the room next to it was equipped with weight lifts and workout machines. The rest of the gym was bare apart from the heavy padding on the floor and walls and long, padded benchs lining the walls. Another door was left unmarked, though it was most likely a locker room.
A training facility, Sana realized instantly. She was very familiar with the setup, having spent most of her free time in Endeavor's.
Mirko plopped down on the closest bench, crossing her ankles. "So," the older woman leaned back against her arms. "What made you pick me? And don't tell me it was because of my rank."
The light user was briefly reminded of Katsuki. She wondered if he was beginning to regret his decision. Best Jeanist was in for a hell of a week, but if anyone could get through to the bombastic blonde, it was him. "No, nothing like that."
Mirko cocked her head, scrutinizing her harder this time, as if trying to peer into her soul. "From what I saw of the Festival, you already have a pretty clear understanding of your quirk. It's useful for a variety of situations and it's super flashy, so you could go mainstream pretty easily if you wanted to. I guess the underground could work too, though Eraser would know more about that. You're good-lookin', too. That's good. A pretty face means more endorsement deals and merchandise. You're from a well-known family, though..." Mirko shrugged. "I can't say that will help you much in the ratings."
Sana rolled her eyes with a scoff. "Tell me about it."
Mirko snorted, bobbing her head in agreement. "What I'm left wondering, kid, is... what's the problem?"
"Problem?" The peach-haired girl repeated. "I don't understand-"
"C'mon, girlie. You wouldn't have come to me if you didn't want my help with something. Our quirks are incompatible, so I have no idea what made you decide to intern with me. Wouldn't someone with a similar quirk have been a better fit?"
"Maybe," Sana admitted. "But I didn't make my decision based on my quirk." The older woman sat up straight, intrigued. "I wanted someone I could model myself after. When I think about the kind of hero I want to become, I picture a strong, confident woman who doesn't take shit from anybody." Sana arched a brow. "Sound familiar?"
Rumi's lips curve into a smirk. "You don't seem like a pushover to me, kid."
"No, but I know what it's like to live in the spotlight. My ancestor is considered a historical figure, which means everyone thinks they're entitled to know every detail of my personal life. Anything I say in an interview or press conference will be twisted and warped to fit a narrative. Even now, people don't see me. I'm a Sakano—a cog in the machine, a part of the whole instead of a whole in my own right. The public already has a preconceived notion of who I am thanks to my old man. I can't have my public image tainted by the connotations that come with the name Sakano."
The bronze-skinned woman tugged on her snow-white ear. "Why choose the hero path, then? You're setting yourself up for a world of hurt."
Sana's answer hadn't changed since the first time Touya had asked her that same question all those years ago. "What about you, star? Why do you want to be a hero?"
Sana had beamed proudly, as though she'd been waiting for him to ask. "To protect Touya!"
The boy's ears had burned bright pink. If anyone else had said that to him, he would've gotten upset, insisting that he was more than capable of taking care of himself. He knew Sana wasn't calling him weak when she said that she wanted to protect him. They were strong—much stronger than his father gave them credit for.
It was that strength that became their downfall.
Sana thought of how he'd been doomed from the start. No one had been there to save him in his time of need. Just like when Katsuki was held hostage by that Sludge Villain, people had gathered to watch Sekoto Peak burn with rapt attention, unwilling to step in and help.
No one had reported Touya's situation to the authorities despite the constant injuries along his arms and torso. Sure, they were self-inflicted... but shouldn't that have been a sign that something much darker was going on in the Todoroki household? No one had questioned the boy's mental state or why such a young child was stressed enough that his vibrant red hair faded into white in just two months.
Touya's own family couldn't do anything to stop it. Who protects you when it's a hero that's hurting you? Someone who protects strangers every day while also bringing such pain and turmoil to the ones they're meant to love.
"To protect the ones that go unnoticed."
Rumi sensed there was more to it than just a nice sentiment, but who was she to judge? She'd only become a hero to prove her strength. Sana crossed her arms. "What about you? Why did you pick me?"
Mirko shrugged. "That's easy. I want to fight you."
"... Huh?"
22 notes · View notes
grrrlgzzze · 2 months ago
Text
i began reading jjk back when the first chapter was released in 2018. i distinctly remember reading the translated version of the first chapter on my birthday that year and immediately falling in love with the concept. it has since become the genuine center point of my life, which sounds so ##losergirl coded of me but i have gojo autism leave me alone!!!!!!!!
i genuinely fucking hate gege akutami for the ending he shitted out for jjk. the announcement that the manga was ending came like a month before the final chapter’s release date and it ended on an arc that has been strung out for literal years at this point. there was no closure for anyone, which is probably the point in trying to show that jujutsu society is stagnant and will never change because humans will never stop creating curses, but for characters to be used in such a flippant manner goes beyond symbolism; it just seems to me like either major burnout, writer’s block, or a combination of the two are the reasons for the end product of jjk.
AND ANOTHER THING! i am honestly not surprised that gojo was not given a funeral or even mentioned by the characters. the panels of him in the afterlife with geto and all them was all gege was willing to give us. that doesn’t mean i’m not upset about this because i really fucking am. what i am genuinely surprised about, however, was gege’s profuse love for sukuna’s character, and yet his background still remaining a complete mystery. i am so curious about his relationship with uraume as well, how they met, etc. i am someone who is willing and delusional enough to fill in the blanks for myself with my own thoughts and daydreams and headcanons, but hearing it from the work’s source will always be something i covet.
i want to come back to jjk with fresh eyes. give it a reread and a rewatch (like i haven’t done ts a million time already lmao). i want to keep loving this story as i have for the past 6 years of my life. i grew into my early adulthood with this narrative as the only true constant in it. i want to take the time to appreciate what we have been given from its author, but criticism can coexist with this gratitude. you are allowed to criticize the media you consume, whether you love it or hate it, and i honestly believe you’re better for it. being able to perceive things in a nuanced manner is so vital to me. and i love jjk. SO MUCH.
i have so many thoughts and feelings about jjk, honestly too many. especially gojo. but i digress!
maybe the real jujutsu kaisen was the friends we made along the way.
13 notes · View notes
averagejoesolomon · 6 months ago
Note
So, I've been completing a Gallagher Girl reread recently. I'm currently rereading CMH. As is often the case with rereading, I've come across a question, so I'm bringing it here.
Why do you think that Rachel kept that photo of Joe/Matt under her desk? How long had it been there?
Grief is a funny thing, friend. For one, Cam doesn't know about Joe, and maybe Rachel wants to keep it that way—at least until she brings Joe in to teach Cam, and all bets are off. At that point, Rachel may want to prevent any questions about this new teacher who is maybe Not So New to the Morgan family. But also! I get the sense that Matt's death was very public in the clandestine world. In LYKY, everyone tells Cam that they knew her father, that he was a good man, that they're sorry for her loss. It's a handy little narrative element for that book's plot, but it also presents the possibility that Rachel never gets to handle her grief in private. At first, she was looking for Matt. Then the whole agency was looking for Matt. Then Matt was declared MIA. The whole thing just lacks closure all around. So maybe Rachel keeps this picture close because it's the only part of Matt she gets to keep to herself. A picture from the days when she, Matt, and Joe were still together, before they knew what tragedy was to come. There's so much possibility! What do you think?
24 notes · View notes
actual-gremlin · 6 months ago
Note
If you've read tsats what did you think about it :))
I am so sorry it took me this long to reply!!
I personally loved it! I know there’s been a lot of discourse over it, but I personally thought it was very well written. I also went into reading it knowing that I was not the age group it was targeted for. (Like all of Ricks books, it was targeted for preteens and young teens). I think that’s a key difference between me and some of the other readers.
:readmore:
I had a few favourites moments, so here they are!
Persephone and Will in her garden. That was a HUGE turning moment in Will and Nicos relationship, even though Nico wasn’t involved in the conversation. It was so meaningful! This was the start of Will actually getting character development!! I could honestly make a separate post about this interaction.
I also LOVED hiss-majesty looking up to Will. Like that was so sweet! Imagine you’re Will. You’ve met the trogs before and you weren’t treated with any respect. But you’re used to that. You’re used to being pushed aside and only being pulled back when you’re needed for something. It’s happening again. And not just to you. It’s happening to someone else, and they turn to you of all people to help. To look up too. Like I would just melt into a little puddle and never recover! And the ending where Will sees Hiss-majesty wearing the same Cheese Hat that he was wearing?? Literally SOBBED. (Can you tell I love their dynamic and I want more of it??)
Nico and Will escaping on the boat and kissing while Bob cried?? Please I was dying😂✋🏻 they’re having a moment, and then there’s Bob just wailing in the background!
Will and Nico calling Percy and Annabeth and telling them their plan to head to Tartarus and Percy and Annabeth looking at each other like 😳🙊 ‘maybe they mean Tartar sauce? For fish? Yup that’s what they mean!’ They were in so much denial and it was so funny for no reason? Anyways.
I (obviously) love the Cocopuffs! Their introduction was definitely weird and off putting, but- and listen closely folks- THAT WAS THE POINT!! IT WASNT MEANT TO BE PRETTY! OR NICE!! BECAUSE TRAMA IS NONE OF THOSE THINGS!! The whole point was that it made you feel icky and uncomfortable! I could make a whole separate post about this (please ask me too) but the design of the scene was to be uncomfortable, and it hit its mark. anyways the Cocopuffs are lovely 🫶🏻
I also adored the ending where Nico talks to Bianca and his mother Maria and gets closure. Was it canon compliant? No. But it was still a sweet sentiment and I enjoyed it.
I think Rick and Mark Oshiro did a fantastic job with this book. also thank you for this ask, because now I need to go reread TSATS! If I find anything else, I’ll be sure to reblog this post with the additions!
Thanks for the ask!! (Please send me more! I swear I won’t forget them in my drafts like I did with this one!)
25 notes · View notes
hermit-frog · 5 months ago
Note
Hey its not on you because the trial would have happened with or without lestat.
It's not on you because the coven wanted revenge not lestat
Lestat did not contact the coven did not orchestrate the trial
You think he wanted claudia killed or louis to suffer and also possibly killed at the trial then why mourn afterwards? Sociopaths don't close themselves off from the world living in a shack for years mourning the ones they loved and lost. During the trial he looked like he didn't wanna be there and afterwards he was a shell of himself.
Lestat was ashamed the trial went the way it did because his plan was not just to save louis,which he did, but claudia too.
That's why he didn't tell louis I saved you not armand because it's too little too late and he knows it.
He's in the tower where he was tortured because he feels tortured by guilt for claudia. Too little too late yes but to insinuate he is this complete villain who does not love deeply to the point of destruction who cannot be anything but a one dimensional interpretation is a gross mishandling of anne rices work.
People can empathize with the worst of them within the anne rice universe, so they can definitely root for what ultimately is the protagonist of the series.
Also interview with the vampire was meant to present lestat in the worst light possible, but like all actors and writers and showrunners have been saying this is not the real version of the character.
Season 3 will show us who this character truly is.
i will start this by pointing out (what i thought was obvious) that my post is just me basically shaking my bestie Louis back to his senses. i think we all had/have someone like Louis in our life (when it comes to abusive relationships). that feeling of hopelessness when you try to help them without prevail is very frustrating, to the point you want to crawl the walls. the fact that when Louis learns about Armand's involvement, he also realizes that Lestat knew, and yet he still gave Louis to Armand, not saying a word (out of pettiness and different layers of punishment), ...and nevertheless Louis goes straight to Lestat to make amends. kill me, please someone. i'm accepting this scene for Louis and Louis only (even tho this line makes me wanna bash my head against the wall), if he wanted to leave it all behind and go further then so be it😘 but Lestat did not deserve any of that
i am once again repeating myself, my problem with this line is the certain crowd's reaction, plus, how Dre had pointed out (in the the reunion part), the tone of the scene. if you got at least one working brain cell, you will understand that this scene is all about Louis, and who he is, how he reacts, how he acts. it's his closure, him moving forward. still don't like the vibe of that scene
its not on you because the trial would have happened with or without lestat. It's not on you because the coven wanted revenge not lestat Lestat did not contact the coven did not orchestrate the trial
and where have i said that? did you even read my post? or was it the 1st line that had sent you straight into my ask box? deadass had to reread my own post lol
Lestat's internal guilt regarding Claudia might come from the fact that it was an indirect kill, by making them flee from his abuse. consequences of his actions. if you had actually read my post, maybe you'd understand the chain reaction i was talking about. that's why my heart bleeds for Louis when he says “it's not on you”. yes, Louis did bring Claudia home, yes he took part in the damage, but it was Lestat's direct actions that had pushed the events. even if they were a happy family, sooner or later she'd want to probably travel, maybe, okay, sure. but there's no if, this is what we got. happiness is unachievable with Lestat.
you know, whenever i start thinking about Lestat, digging deeper and, potentially, finding him interesting, y'all ruin everything. the worst part about Lestat, as a character, are his “fans”. i can't even call you his fans because the way you talk about him, that's not Lestat. you think i log in to tumblr dot com to shame people for liking Lestat? i'm an Armand enjoyer for fuck's sake. why do you want to make Lestat so dull and one dimensional?
You think he wanted claudia killed or louis to suffer and also possibly killed at the trial then why mourn afterwards? Sociopaths don't close themselves off from the world living in a shack for years mourning the ones they loved and lost. During the trial he looked like he didn't wanna be there and afterwards he was a shell of himself.
again, where have i said he did want them to die on the trial? y'all will make shit up not only about Lestat, but also about other people's posts. truly fascinating. sociopaths? girl, that's a vampire. of course Lestat didn't want to be there, he didn't look presentable enough(((
was Lestat actually mourning Claudia as an individual apart from himself? did he mourn what she could've become? did he mourn Claudia's, lost at the last second, happiness? was Lestat mourning her when he gave Louis to one of Claudia's murderers, who not only had directed the trial, but also suggested that an extremely intimate part of herself would be passed among strangers as an act of violation, humiliation, and disrespect? or was he mourning himself?
Claudia was my dark child, my love, evil of my evil. Claudia broke my heart. And on a warm sultry night in the spring of the year 1860, she rose up to settle the score. She enticed me, she trapped me, and she plunged a knife over and over again into my drugged and poisoned body, until almost every drop of the vampiric blood gushed out of me before my wounds had the precious few seconds in which to heal. I don't blame her. It was the sort of thing I might have done myself. And those delirious moments will never be forgotten by me, never consigned to some unexplored compartment of the mind. It was her cunning and her will that laid me low as surely as the blade that slashed my throat and divided my heart. I will think on those moments every night for as long as I go on, and of the chasm that opened under me, the plunge into mortal death that was nearly mine. Claudia gave me that. Only Claudia had been the exception-my intrepid little Claudia, companion hunter and slayer of random victims- vampire par excellence. And it had been her alluring strength which caused her ultimately to turn upon her maker. Yes, she had been the only one who had been like me really-as they say in this day and age. And that might have been the reason that she was haunting me now. Surely there was some connection to my love of David! And I had failed to see it before. How I loved him; and how deep had been the emptiness when Claudia turned against me, and was my companion no more.
this compels me more, amazing how he connects this to David, but let's not go there:
I was trembling. I was weeping. To be human, I thought. To be human again. I think I said the words aloud. Then a sudden whispered laugh startled me. It was a child somewhere in the darkness, a little girl. I turned around. I was almost certain I could see her-a small gray form darting up the far aisle towards a side altar, and then out of sight. Her footsteps had been barely audible. But surely this was some mistake. No scent. No real presence. Just illusion. Nevertheless I cried out: “Claudia!” And my voice came tumbling back to me in a harsh echo. No one there, of course. I thought of David: “You're going to make another ghastly mistake!” (...) I thought again of her execution-the brick-walled air well, the approaching sun, how small she had been; and then the remembered pain of the Gobi Desert mingled with it and I couldn't bear it any longer. I realized I had folded my arms around my chest, and was trembling, my body rigid, as though being tormented with an electric shock. Ah, but surely she hadn't suffered. Surely it had been instantaneous for one so tender and little. Ashes to ashes...
y'all say how proud Lestat was of Claudia. was he proud when she had escaped, grown, learned, and came back home more independent and mature? was he proud of her books? that she fought and worked out her trauma? was he proud when she became smarter apart from his lessons? was he proud of her relationship with Louis? was he proud when she was learning and growing independently of him? was he proud that she had found love? when she broke the cycle and made her situation work? or was he proud that she had a resemblance to him? that she could and dared to defy him. that she played his game. that she got “stronger” because of him, of what he had done to her, of what he had done to Louis as she has to witness? what was it, a raging narcissist?
i hope that the writers push Ghost Claudia in every single episode, how they did with Lestat in s2. and since you care about her relationship with Lestat so much, i'm sure you will love it. + many, many flashbacks. you know what, double that, why don't we get two Ghost Claudias? from Lestat and Louis. every single episode, especially during loustat scenes. Ghost Claudia criticizing Louis' choices regarding Lestat (ridiculing the french), also representing Louis' guilt. Lestat's Ghost Claudia can point out all of his insecurities, let him project). wait, why don't we also get Armand's Ghost Claudia, i need to see her dragging his pathetic ass (but unfortunately he dgaf about her to be haunted, he was in the books but only because of his experementations. still mourning evil Armand🤞)
Lestat was ashamed the trial went the way it did because his plan was not just to save louis, which he did, but claudia too.
Lestat was trying to save Claudia? When? He didn't even apologize to her. Lestat went off script so many times, had the energy to teleport, and yet... crickets when it came to Claudia. where was his “enthusiasm”? She was right there when he was apologizing to Louis. Lestat knew what was coming, but he didn't even try. Just stood there and watched. yeah, sure, he felt it emotionally, oh boo boo(((, and as her maker. but he didn't try.
That's why he didn't tell louis I saved you not armand because it's too little too late and he knows it.
to say it was a very serious information to withhold is an understatement. Lestat gives!!! Louis to Armand (the big bad), like he's a freaking sack of potatoes. Lestat doesn't even questions his ownership over Louis, amazing. enjoy him, as he looks at Armand... I knew you'd figure it out, yeah, fuck that. classic.
He's in the tower where he was tortured because he feels tortured by guilt for claudia. Too little too late yes but to insinuate he is this complete villain who does not love deeply to the point of destruction who cannot be anything but a one dimensional interpretation is a gross mishandling of anne rices work.
yeah, and water is wet. already spoke about him mourning himself, i mean Claudia ops lol, above, nothing to add. who the hell is saying that he's the complete villain? are you watching marvel? y'all are the ones who try to paint him as a hero, which, ironically, makes him hella boring. “gross mishandling of anne rices work” please say sike, please.
Also interview with the vampire was meant to present lestat in the worst light possible, but like all actors and writers and showrunners have been saying this is not the real version of the character.
yeah, i can already hear Sam knocking on my door (i have only seen Sam to repeat that like mantra tbh, but then again i don't read/watch everything). you know, Lestat is terrible even in his own pov, so i can't even imagine the reality of that man lol
i am once again asking you guys this, when was the last time you have re-read tvl and the following books? Because he's just as abusive and insufferable, even from his own point of view (take a shot every time Lestat hits someone. not to mention his other “questionable” behavior)
you won't read any of this shit, anyway, peace and love ✌😉
Tumblr media
14 notes · View notes
crowbird · 6 months ago
Text
I think the ability to label a fic as "discontinued" or "abandoned" would actually be a really useful feature for ao3, both as an archival site and as a platform that hosts fanfiction. It would also be a good way for authors to signal if they are eventually maybe still going to update an incomplete fic whereas another one which will stay in limbo forever for one reason or another.
Same with an on hold feature, where if an author is taking a break from writing due to life circumstances but knows once those circumstances run their course they will be back to updating a feature like that could be useful.
Maybe this is just me but I would personally love a feature that authors could use to indicate wether or not a work will be continued, as it's a pet peeve of mine when people mark their fic as complete when it's actually revealed to be discontinued or to get to the last update of a fic and the author clarifies that they won't be writing it anymore.
I don't hold anything against those writers it's just sometimes the last thing I want is to read a fic that will not be continued, I want to have closure to the story in a narrative sense and sometimes I don't need that so I'll read a fic or reread a fic that's been discontinued but there are times I just don't want to do that you know?
TLDR; I think it would be useful from both a user and archival standpoint to have a marker for fics to be labeled as "abandoned works or discontinued" (not orphaned) by authors instead of just complete or incomplete if the author has no intention of ever returning to writing/updating the fic.
7 notes · View notes
the-owl-tree · 10 months ago
Note
I think Shadowsight’s story was more of a tragedy with him living because he never got actual closure for the shit he went thru. A half-assed “apology” from pretty much the whole damn forest except for his parents who wanted him punished for being manipulated and abused and some (Lionblaze) even wanting him dead iirc?? And he just? Clocked in to work the next day like nothing happened and kept being a medicine cat? He got the bad ending actually imo. I don’t like Shadowsight bc I’m tired of “the most specialist uwu sad softboi #8763” being churned out in the series but at least he’s compelling unlike Alderheart, Rootspring and Nightheart and his story is one most people wanted to see end well after all the horrific abuse he faced. But it didn’t? It felt… empty and mean spirited? Which isn’t new for the Erins but usually they do it to women so nobody gaf. Idk I just felt like especially the other medicine cats should have done more to atone for their cruelty. They’re all comrades under the same oath yet they were so fucking awful and treated him at best like a useless nuisance and at worst an enemy. Shadowsight literally ate deathberries out of desperation for an answer that would appease everyone and it’s so obviously a suicide attempt but brushed out to fit the narrative. He deserved better and it was genuinely disappointing that nothing else was done. “Oh Shadowsight, you ARE useful!! Yes you’re allowed to sit with us again. Huh? Apologize? For what” <- Mothwing probably
I feel like him going onto become a bg character with no baring on the main plot and his only acknowledgements are characters going "there's that dumbass who released cat satan" is just. not the plot I think people would have wanted from the guy who played TBC's punching bag for six books straight lol side note....i miss when side characters/bg characters got to have stories and tidbits. Mousewhisker having a crush on Minnowpaw...Spiderleg and Daisy's whole thing....we used to have interesting casts :(
I quite like Shadowsight, I think he stands out from the other examples by actually being strange and offputting. He does weird things and characters comment on his appearance and intimidating looks, makes me actually understand and empathize with his "outsider" status, ya know? Also thanks to osmosis from my mutuals he's a girl to me so there's that lol I think him being so put down by others (facing actual adversity) makes him interesting and my irritation with that comes from the story trying to "both sides" it rather than acknowledge the wider array of issues at hand. I don't think an apology is necessarily needed, I just kind of like narrative acknowledgement. But I'd need to reread TBC for a more succinct argument (i wanna reread tbc anyways, i just need time lol maybe when im bored on campus i'll do it)
I wouldn't call the deathberry thing a suicide attempt, though you could arguably make the interpretation that it is a cry for help in some regards; I think that just wasn't the authorial intent. I do agree he deserved better, it's a bit disappointing how we haven't gotten to see him more :( where is my Shadow and Frost bonding moments :(
15 notes · View notes
forlix · 1 year ago
Note
talking ab fallen star cos that fic consumed me when i first read it and consumed me again when i reread it earlier 🤚
firstly the way he kept his promise to bring mc to the airport it really broke me. it's so melancholic like there have been broken promises before but hyunjin wouldn't dare end their relationship on another one? you can still feel the love he has for t hemin the way he tiredly made his way to drive to their house and to the airport after he came back from his own long flight it honestly makes me insane.
i love how in the car there's this like faint and twisted idea of hope lingering between them. some part of them still longs for the other and it's right there they could just grab the very thing they yearn for but it's incomplete. it's not the same. honestly when mc mutters "idiot" it really made me think like are they calling hyunjin an idiot? or themselves an idiot? and ac i feel like they meant both of them are idiots for allowing themselves to end up in this awkward but necessary situation.
there are some unresolved feelings and unanswered questions while they sit in silence on the way to the airport, but the airport scene™️ gives them both the closure they need. they're not getting back together, no matter how much one might like, but the tension in the car shows a sliver of hope that they would and i feel like it really emanates in your writing and makes me as a reader reader hope for a happier ending as well. also the shaky "fuck" describes my feelings as i read this as well thanks btw 🥲
and this is all from my own mind but i imagine reader saw a photo or maybe got an invitation to hyun's wedding and they realize he's okay and it makes them reflect on themselves and with a heavy heart they realize theyre okay too. the worst part is there's no definitive point where they felt or "became" okay, because like you said, time is the best medicine and gradually mc just healed. but knowing that hyun is okay and has moved on kind of popped a bubble of reserved feelings and its not necessarily sad its just kind of disheartening or numbing?
idk how i started yapping sm lol i read wayyyy into this HAHAHA. i chose to analyze this instead of study for my finals ☝️🤓 but in conclusion, xian i love falling star and its yet another product of ur mindblowing sexy brain i love you so much bby and i js wanna say im so proud of you <3
when i tell u i saw this while studying (also for my finals) and it had my jaw on the floor my head in the clouds i couldn't focus for the LIFE of me afterwards. WDYM YOU WROTE ME AN ESSAY OF UR THOUGHTS ON MY WRITING? IS IT MY BIRTHDAY?? i love you so fucking much omg. thank u for sending this in my lovely star :') putting my VERY ramble-y response under the cut
"there have been broken promises before but hyunjin wouldn't dare end their relationship on another one" is soooo poignantly put and so so so correct. honestly him remembering the day and time of the flight was supposed to be a show of pettiness at first, like "you called me unreliable so here i am bitch" lmfaooo but let's be real you're right on the money with his real intentions. he was literally counting down the days until he had an excuse to see mc again.. he was also worried about the flight being so early and wanted to ensure their safety... AGGHHH not me hurting myself thinking ab this couple 😭
"when mc mutters "idiot" it really made me think like are they calling hyunjin an idiot? or themselves an idiot?" I LOVEEEE LOVE LOVE THIS? god u are a genius i adore you. i totally see this being the case. if i may add, maybe mc thinks they're an idiot because they reciprocate hyunjin's yearning even after everything that's transpired. like inward frustration that there are still feelings there? yeah. ur a genius.
about the slivers of hope after the car scene, i apologize for the lack of a happy ending love </3 the fic was definitely challenging (and saddening) but also refreshing to write. i really wanted to explore a couple that is well and truly doomed bc some of the relationships in our lives are doomed, yaknow? and you can recognize that and still have a lot of love for the person at the same time bc human beings are fucking complicated like that. but please consider this my official justification for posting something so depressing
"and this is all from my own mind but i imagine reader saw a photo or maybe got an invitation to hyun's wedding and they realize he's okay and it makes them reflect on themselves and with a heavy heart they realize theyre okay too." FUCKKKK NOT THE WEDDING PICTURE. this just made me frown irl. if i may add.....again..... what if they physically run into each other and that's how mc knows? at the start of the convo mc kinda feels the familiar stirrings again but it's more out of habit than anything. they talk for a bit and it's really pleasant and mc notices he has a ring on his finger and they realize they feel ✨ nothing ✨ about it anymore. but there's just an inkling of remorse remaining about the whole situation. like a passing thought of "maybe in a different universe we would've made things work"....haha.....fuck. BUT mc is happy hyunjin's happy, and mc is happy to have recovered, and life goes on
as for ur entire last paragraph i might actually cry, i'm so glad you love the fic and i truly do appreciate u taking the time to look into my fic this closely so so so much :'( you keep me going, I MEAN IT
10 notes · View notes
resha04 · 6 months ago
Note
Hi, I’m one of the readers of your Hollow Knight fic planning on making stories. I am currently suffering from lack of structure, and I need help. My question is:
1) How do you make your chapter outlines?
2) How do you make up your writing style?
Hello!
1.) First, I decide what the ending is like. It doesn't have to be something very solid, just an idea would usually work for me – for example, I started my HK fic with the idea of PK fighting the Radiance and then having some sort of closure with Hallow regarding their past as the ending. I didn't have any clear image of how it was going to be, just the general idea.
After I have the ending, I make a list (mental or written) of important scenes. They're plot-relevant scenes, but also the scenes I want to insert. Some scenes are usually added along the writing process if inspiration strikes.
Then I get a new piece of paper and start arranging those scenes between the beginning and the ending. Sometimes I break the story into arcs so you can focus on what happen on those arcs – I find it more manageable than staring at the wide blank space between the start and end of the whole story.
(If you do outline by writing it down, you can draw a long line on a paper, mark the beginning and the end, and use post-it notes to write the scenes in-between, so you can move those scenes around :) It's a tips I got on Pinterest.)
If you meant how I decide on what happens on each chapter, it's basically the same as above, only in smaller scale.
2.) This... is an interesting and difficult question. My answer's going to be mostly repeating what other people in the internet said, I'm afraid.
I didn't start writing with a style in mind – or not consciously. I read a lot of fanfics back then, and my brain(?) absorbed the styles that were attractive to me without me noticing. There was one ao3 author whose fics and style I really liked, and maybe because I reread her works so often, when I was writing I unconsciously mimicked her style, adding my own touch in the process.
Someone in the internet said that style is not only about technique – it's also what you like/choose to write about, your word choices, and what you choose to focus/put emphasis on, among some.
So I think... if you're worried about having a writing style, just write. As you keep writing, it would appear by itself.
I hope this helps, or at least sheds a bit of light on your troubles. But please remember that everyone's journey is different. What works for me might or might not work for you, and that doesn't mean one of us is wrong. It just means we each have our own ways (^^).
Good luck on your writing! And thank you for this ask. I am sorry my answer is long (and maybe convoluted?), I can't really be concise and not-rambling when talking about something I love :"D
4 notes · View notes
not-so-private-thoughts · 10 months ago
Text
On lesbian relationship abuse
I really do think that queer women* are uniquely vulnerable to abuse in first queer relationships. It’s an experience that I’ve seen anecdotally over and over again in niche queer circles but rarely discussed beyond that. I know there is writing about lesbian domestic abuse from the 1980s and 90s, but I don’t know of much from more recently. With the growing mainstream awareness of queerness, there has been a growing push to sanitize and purify experiences of queerness in order to gain acceptance. This has resulted in moves away from talking about the ugly things that are also a part of queerness. Something from Carmen Maria Machado’s memoir “In The Dream House” that really stuck with me was the idea of over-purifying being dehumanizing. Humans are imperfect and placing the expectation on one group to be above that removes them from that level of humanity. I think that widespread conversations on lesbian relationship abuse will have genuine positive impacts on many lives. It’s hard for me to say if these conversations would do much to prevent abuse or flag early warning signs, but certainly, it’s something that will help survivors. I also know that there are parts of this that will be relevant to straight experiences of relationship abuse, and even other gay experiences, but in speaking from my own experience, this will draw heavily on experiences of lesbianism.
Machado is nearly 20 years older than me, and her experience of queerness is necessarily different than mine because of that. She didn’t talk a whole lot about her early experiences with ideas of lesbian relationships, but I believe that the way we conceptualize those is important. When I was just coming into my queerness, I believed relationships with women to be magical. Why did I place women on this pedestal? I wasn’t as deeply into online spaces as a lot of my peers were, but I dabbled. I was present enough to absorb general attitudes of queerness from queer women. And they were ones of fantasy and perfection. They taught me that girls are soft and sweet and warm. Growing up disillusioned with relationships with men, feeling something for a girl only served to confirm these ideas. The girls I had crushes on gave me butterflies with their smiles and their giggles. The boys I knew bothered me with their boisterousness and grossness and everything else that is just a fact about teenage boys if you ask a teenage girl. Plus, I was a girl, and that sameness immediately earned these crushes an extra level of familiarity. Familiarity, closeness, trust, it all gives someone passes to be shitty. And that’s not to say I am disillusioned with love or care, I believe wholeheartedly in the importance of companionship and partnership. I just also know firsthand how someone can break you by knowing you.
Since rereading “Dream House” this fall, I really haven’t been able to stop turning these ideas over in my head. I see them everywhere. It’s become an obsession. Maybe it’s to do with the closure I never got and my experiences of abuse that have never been voiced or validated. I think moreso though, there is a pervasiveness to these ideas of queer female fantasy that are lovely but so dangerous. They blind us to the cold reality that some women are scary. Like not in a fun romantic way, truly the stuff of nightmares years later. (As a side note, the nightmares that I run into now nearly three years out about her are that we meet today and she is kind to me. Those are the scariest ones yet, because they mean I’ve been wrong all along.)
This isn’t a finished thought, I really do have a desire to turn this into something more, but I have no idea what that means. I want it to be something that has the depth, rigor, and simultaneous accessibility of a high quality video essay, but I have none of the skills for that. And so for now it will simply grow between a personal google doc and an unnoticed tumblr blog.
🪼
*The language here is imprecise and imperfect. By queer women, talking about these relationships, I’m referring to people who are in relationships that exhibit the positionality of lesbianism. Neither party in the relationship must necasarily be a lesbian or a woman. I will contunue to use the words lesbian and queer woman but the understanding of nuance in those terms should be assumed throughout, these words are used for convenience.
9 notes · View notes