#and wouldn't you know it they're infinitely better than the actual thing
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thatoneocmaker · 11 months ago
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Hey real quick talk, while sometimes I might reblog Harry Potter fanarts, just know in NO WAY, will I ever support JKR. I will support rewrites of Harry Potter on AO3, I will support fanart, but never, and I mean NEVER, will ever buy any of the books, or merch, or movies.
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radiance1 · 11 months ago
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So, Ghost Prince Danny. Except that he also, ALSO, is Damian's younger twin brother who was sent to keep an eye on the Fentons because of their discovery of a substance that looked like Lazarus Water yet isn't Lazarus water.
In truth, it was really just Talia's way of getting Danny out of the way because he lost against Damian in the battle of heirs (No Danny did not hold back, Damian was just better than him) and she didn't want him dead so that was the next best thing.
Danny does pop up in the League at odd times, mostly to report about the research done by the Fentons. When he became half dead he's around a lot more, mostly to be monitored for his unique condition (somehow someway they don't know about Vlad) and because Danny can just come and go as he pleases cause ghost powers.
So, Danny gives Damian a flute that he handcrafted himself as a birthday present because really, what can he buy that Damian himself couldn't? Also, because he didn't actually want to spend money on his older brother.
They're brothers, but they don't have the most cordial relationship. They don't hate each other, but they don't like each other either.
So, Damian takes this flute and is like: "Fuck you gimmie this for I don't need this shit."
And then Danny is like: "Just take the gift you stupid ahh fruitloop."
So, Damian takes it while berating that Danny would give him something as stupid as this, but then does a full one 180 by keeping the thing on his person at all times.
Not that Danny knows that, really.
So, cut forth to Damian being known by Batman and taken in. Trying to kill Tim and being an overall little shit, I can see one of the Batfam coming across this flute just, randomly really, and then Damian is fucking pissed that they dared to touch it and then takes it back.
Leaving basically everyone stumped over the significance this random ahh wooden flute has but decides not to touch that landmine.
So then the Batfam don't know that Damian has a half sibling (Danny came from Jack and Talia, so he isn't blood related to Bruce but is to Damian) running around out there and Damian isn't gonna say anything and you already know Talia isn't since Danny AIN'T his kid.
Plus, he got a job to do that being with Bruce Wayne would make harder.
So then Damian becomes robin an allat, then the entire Batfam pull up to the Justice League for some big threat and then both Constantine and Zatanna are like: Yo why do you kid carry round an item drenched heavily in death energy to the extreme
Batman is obviously like: Excuse me?
Damian, meanwhile, just does not give a fuck about the flute given to him by his half-brother on his birthday is apparently drenched in death energy to the extreme because that is his and he isn't going to just give it up.
So then one way or another Damian ends up playing it, maybe he was told to play it by both Batman and Constantine just to make sure it isn't actually anything dangerous or whatever and also because Damian wouldn't let anyone else hold it, let alone play it.
Which Damian smirks at because he's played it before and literally nothing happened aside from very good music, but Damian hasn't played it since he came to the Wayne household and has missed it. So he reminisces over how he got it, thinking of his half-brother and their relationship.
He plays it, but this time, since he genuinely thought about Danny death energy just condenses in waves. Damian couldn't see it since he was too focused on playing and reminiscing, everyone isn't really that calm and tries to get him to stop but the death energy blocks them.
Then a summoning circle appears in front of Damian and Constantine recognizes it as being from the Infinite Realms category and it seemed to be a high-level summon circle too so he's like: Well fuck.
Then, contrary to their expectations of some eldritch abomination, it's just Danny. Who, fun fact, was in the middle of his coronation as prince and such, dripped out in royal wear.
Safe to say, Constatine goes: Well double fuck.
The tension is just broken, as all Danny does is cry. Like, genuinely, he just cries because Damian still kept his flute that he made, he genuinely thought the guy just threw it away since he hated it so much.
Danny: Ancients, my big brother actually liked what I made this is making me emotional.
Damian: Why the hell are you crying this thing is still trash btw.
Danny: Yea whatever you say big bro, you love it.
Batman: What do you mean big brother?
Danny: Who in the hell is that-
Damian: Right, I never told him about you.
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libraryofgage · 1 year ago
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Mermaid/Pirate Steddie Two
Part One
Have I already posted something today? Yes, yes I have but also I finally got through my block on this one hfjdks
I'll be working on Addams Family Steddie next but idk when that part might be coming out lol
anyway, as always, if you see any typos no you didn't ;)
---
Steve has taken over Eddie's large porcelain bathtub after it was moved to the main room of the captain's cabin. Steve is lounging in it now, a week into being on Eddie's ship, with his tail draped over the edge so he can submerge his head and breathe through his gills. It's infinitely more comfortable, even with the seaweed still wrapped along the length of his tail and reminding him of its presence with every twitch.
He sighs, bubbles rising from his gills in the "I'm beyond bored" pattern that Robin would light up at seeing. But she's not here, so Steve is left to once again turn Eddie's bat ring over in his hands, fingers brushing along the wings.
Eddie had shown him a drawing of an actual bat, and Steve still thinks they're freaks of nature. But he finds the ring itself a little endearing if only because it was Eddie's ring willingly given.
He smiles softly, the gesture only dampened by the sharp jab of worry over his guppies and Robin. They're probably losing their scales with worry themselves, scouring the sea and putting themselves at risk of being seen in their hunt for him. Steve can't even fault them, either; he would do the exact same thing if Robin or any of his guppies had been captured like that. He has done the exact same thing.
Steve sighs again, this time the bubble pattern expressing exhaustion and "What the fuck am I supposed to do now?" He kind of misses having someone who actually understands what his bubble patterns mean, but he knows it wouldn't be fair to get frustrated with anyone for their inability to gain meaning from bubbles floating toward the surface.
He thinks, maybe, the worst part is being confined to the tub. Sure, it's infinitely better than the fucking bucket from the other ship, but Steve is still getting restless. He's like a guppy that's watching its siblings swim but still doesn't have the tail strength to swim itself. He feels trapped and has way too much energy with nowhere to spend it.
Steve hasn't mentioned this to Eddie, though. He'd been planning to, of course. In fact, he intended to tell Eddie that morning, but then they'd docked at some port city and Eddie had run off with the promise of being back soon. Steve had tried not to feel a little abandoned, left by himself with fucking nothing to do while Eddie prances around on land.
Before he can get too far into this line of thought (he's about three minutes from convincing himself that, really, Eddie shouldn't have left and could probably be taught the basics of bubble patterns as punishment), Eddie practically barrels into the room, vibrating with something Steve only recognizes as excitement when he sees Eddie's grin.
Steve surfaces, pushing his hair out of his eyes and leaning on the edge of the tub, twitching his tail slightly and exercising incredible control to keep from preening when Eddie's gaze lingers on it. "What happened?" he asks, slipping the bat ring onto his thumb, the only finger it fits.
Eddie drops to his knees, scooting closer to the tub until their noses are almost brushing. "I've got a surprise for you, sweetheart," he says, voice light and eager.
"Where is it?" Steve asks, returning Eddie's smile.
"It's on the deck! Do you trust me?"
For a brief moment, Steve thinks Eddie is about to throw him back into the ocean. Which, like, wouldn't be a bad thing, but Steve would be incredibly offended by the suddenness and wonder if he'd been imagining the draw between them.
But he's sure Eddie wouldn't do something like that without asking first, so he tucks it away as something only slightly possible. Steve nods and pulls back, bracing his hands on the edge of the tub before pushing himself up. He perches on the edge, his balance a little unsteady as he looks at Eddie.
Thankfully, Eddie catches on quickly. He scrambles to his feet and scoops Steve off the edge of the tub, one arm under his tail and the other wrapped around Steve's back. Steve holds onto Eddie's neck, still a little paranoid about being dropped despite Eddie's prior insistence that he wouldn't let anything happen to Steve.
"I think you're gonna love it," Eddie says, his voice soft and his breath warm against Steve's cheek.
Steve gets the urge to ask again, but he holds back as Eddie carries him up to the deck. The sky is covered in clouds, keeping the sun from blinding him when they emerge from the stairs. The deck is concerningly large for such a small crew, and Gareth is currently lounging against the mast, a hat pulled low over his eyes as he sleeps.
He's not very attention-grabbing, though. Not when there's a large...contraption in the middle of the deck. It has four wheels and is shaped like a boat, big enough for Steve to sit comfortably without his tail draping over the edge. There are cranks of some kind on the inside of the boat, and Steve realizes it's filled with water as Eddie carries him closer.
"What is this?" Steve asks, trying not to grimace at the discomfort of his scales beginning to dry out. They're starting to feel tight and itchy, a sensation he really hates, like they're going to split apart at any second.
Eddie grins wider and carefully sets Steve into the water, making sure he doesn't bump the tail or the seaweed wraps. He points at the crank to Steve's left and says, "That will make the back wheels turn. If you crank forward, you'll go forward, and back will make you go backward." He then points to the other crank by Steve's right. "This one controls the front wheels. Forward will make them turn left, and backward will make them turn right. You should be able to move around the deck with this."
Steve stares at the cranks for a moment before glancing up at Eddie. When he receives an encouraging nod in response, he slowly turns the left crank forward, lighting up when the boat does, in fact, move forward a few inches.
He's so overwhelmed with joy that he can't help the notes bubbling in his throat, rising and rising until he can't hold them back anymore. Steve doesn't even think before singing, a wordless tune that conveys just how truly happy he is, one that would leave Robin flabbergasted because she's never heard this tune before.
Because this tune is for courting gifts. Like, really fucking fantastic courting gifts. The kind of gifts that blow everything else clear out of the water and leave a merperson dazed and bubbly and floating without any direction from sheer happiness, bubbles bursting through their gills in joyous patterns.
Steve has never sung this tune before, but he's not at all surprised that Eddie is the person who managed to coax it out of him.
-----
Eddie knew the boat would be a good idea, but now he's thinking it was the best idea he's ever had and ever will. Even after hours have passed, after Steve has watched the sun drop below the water and asked Eddie to carry him back to the cabin, complaining about his arms being sore from turning cranks, Eddie is still reeling.
He's never heard a more beautiful sound. Eddie keeps replaying the tune Steve sang in his head, frustrated with his inability to recreate it just right and too flustered to ask Steve to sing it again. Because he gets the feeling it was special, something that Steve can't just do at the drop of a hat, but something he did because of Eddie.
Eddie twists his fingers in the sheet covering him, turning his head to glance at the tub where Steve is leaning against the edge. His eyes are closed, but Eddie knows he isn't sleeping yet. Steve submerges his head when he sleeps.
"Hey, Stevie," Eddie whispers, almost like he doesn't want Steve to hear so the comfortable silence continues.
Steve hears him anyway, of course, the flare of fin along the edge of his ear twitching slightly. He tilts his head a bit more, squishing his cheek against his arm, and somewhat lazily says, "Yeah, Eddie?"
Eddie turns onto his side, meeting Steve's gaze. "How'd you become a caretaker?" he asks. It's not the question he actually wants to ask; he wants to ask Steve to sing again, to let him drift to sleep to beautiful notes and lingering melodies.
He watches as Steve tenses slightly before forcing himself to relax. He takes a deep breath, his gills fluttering slightly before slowly exhaling. "A while ago, my pod had an...altercation with a pod from the southern seas. They kidnapped one of the guppies, Will, and the other guppies decided to rescue him. They snuck off one night and I followed them when I discovered what happened and..."
Steve trails off, frowning as he tilts his head to look at the small window, staring at the moon through the glass. "Well, long story short, there were lots of fights, our pod lost its previous caretaker, and we gained a new guppy the southern pod had captured. After everything, I couldn't let the guppies out of my sight, and they kept coming to me and Robin whenever they had problems. So, eventually, I just convinced Robin to be my partner and raise the guppies."
There's a lot going unsaid in that explanation, but Eddie knows better than to pry right now. Steve will tell him when he wants, and if he never wants to, that's fine, too. Eddie won't fault him for that. "Did you have a job before that?" he asks.
Steve hums softly, still beautiful and soft, but not at all the melody Eddie really wants to hear. "I used to scout for the pod," he says, "I would swim ahead and make sure an area was safe or find spots to rest when the pod traveled. When we stopped for long periods, I'd help gather food for the pod."
"You like caring for the guppies more," Eddie says, and it's not at all a question.
"Yeah," Steve replies, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "The guppies are great."
"Tell me about them."
"Well, first is Dustin. He's a little sea urchin, always talking back and getting into trouble, but he's sweet. Will is usually pretty quiet, but he's got a great imagination. Mike always hangs around Will, and he's kind of a squid, but he's going through an awkward growth phase. Lucas is the most active of them, and he likes to shadow the scouters when he can. Erica is his little sister, and she doesn't let the others get away with anything. Max is daring and brash, she tends to dive head-first into stuff, but she's also really protective. El is quiet like Will, but she's really smart and really caring. They're such a handful. Robin and I never have a dull day."
His voice is trailing off toward the end, and Eddie knows he's just moments from falling asleep. "I'd like to meet them someday," Eddie says, his voice softer than before, the words spoken more to himself than Steve.
Of course, that doesn't stop Steve from hearing him anyway. He hums again, this one quieter, and groggily mumbles, "Of course you will, Eddie. That's part of the courting."
And then, like he hasn't essentially rocked Eddie's entire world, Steve slips down in the tub. He submerges his head in the water, and Eddie can hear the quiet murmur of bubbles rising to the surface and popping as Steve breathes.
Eddie stays frozen for a few minutes, staring at the tub, and suddenly wondering if, maybe, somebody somewhere happened to write a merperson courtship manual.
Tag List (there's still room, so let me know if you'd like to be added!)
@mugloversonly, @raisedbylibrarians, @thegirlwiththelibrarybag, @savory-babby, @vankaar, @beckkthewreck, @itcanbepalped, @imfinereallyy, @finntheehumaneater, @mightbeasleep, @weekend-dreamer7
@whenindoubtb72, @troublemaker2azz, @just-a-tiny-void, @upallnightogetloki, @mxmakessense
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daechwitatamic · 6 months ago
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Vice;Grip || chapter 2 || chs
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(banner by @itaeewon)
Vice;Grip (masterpost) NSFW - minors DNI Genre: angst smut fluff, fuckbuddies!au Summary: Make it not hurt, you could have asked him. Or, at least, make it hurt in a way I choose.  A/N: infinite thank you's to @sailoryooons and @eoieopda for beta-ing!! //
Warnings: Frequent depictions of depression, depressive episodes, panic attacks, and substance abuse (alcohol, weed, and pills referenced). PLEASE know that these characters’ relationships with drugs and alcohol are not healthy and should not be emulated. If these topics are triggering to you, please consider sitting this one out.
Section Specific Warnings: depiction of a depressive episode, recreational drinking and bar scenes, allusion to oral (f. receiving), kissing, rough sex/man-handling, explicit penetrative sex, dirty talk, aftercare, didn't venture fully into writing dom!vernon but i have been informed i wrote something that might be in the realm of a dom drop, language obviously, reader is called a gendered slur by a stranger, law-breaking :), actual fluff for a second, allusions to drug use, car sex
wc: 6900
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Playlist: you can call me in the middle of the night / you can leave before i wake up in the morning / and it could feel so wrong / but i'll still hold on
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1 yr, 5 months ago
The onset of spring brought a lack of color. Grey clouds hung full and heavy, low over the city skyline. Grey crept into the corners of your apartment, darkening rooms during daytime so that you needed to keep lamps on even in midafternoon. Grey crept over your body, into your limbs. Days stretched and nights inched; you only got out of bed because you had to feed the damn cat.
That's part of why you'd gotten the cat in the first place, after a particularly long episode a few years ago, when Chan had presented you with a list of things he thought you should do to combat the blues, as he'd put it.
He meant well. But he always came at your depression like a problem solver, like just doing the right things could make it go away.
And sure, his suggestions were things that would help - get outside, call someone, don't isolate, shower even if you aren't leaving the house, drink some damn water - they weren't a cure. They were better reminders for when you were okay - good at keeping you okay for longer stretches. But when it was already too late, when the grey came, they all sounded fucking pointless. 
Anyway. The cat had been a good idea. 
is it bad?? 
Chan did his best. He was a good best friend. He just didn't understand it.
The answer to his question, you thought, as you flipped your phone over so you wouldn't see the notification if he followed up, was yes. Yes, this time was particularly bad. But you didn't have the energy to type those three words. 
Terrible friend, your brain accused, and it was right. 
You managed to drag yourself to work, to at least show up so you could continue to pay for your apartment and your damn cat, but not much else. You existed on cans of diet coke and microwave meals. You doom-scrolled until sunrise, then slept an hour or two at most before getting dressed for work. You left texts unanswered, the mail piled up. So did the dishes. 
Chan came by, once, did your dishes for you. It made you feel worse - useless and pitiable. You'd rather he just go away, but you held it in; you knew that would only hurt his feelings.
You learned from your mistakes, one thing that could be said in your favor. 
“Have you called your doctor?” he wanted to know.
What was the point? There wasn't a stop hating your life pill. 
“What if you tried painting?” he asked.
“What if you just let me be?” you countered, finally tripping over the line from embarrassed apathy to defensiveness. 
That pout again. “It might help,” he said. “Don't most famous artists do their best shit when they're down?”
“Get out,” you deadpanned. He dropped it, knowing this was a bigger issue, a bigger argument, than this current episode, a complex situation that went beyond the boundaries of your brain chemistry.
He put the last of your now-clean plates away. “Let's go somewhere,” he suggested.
“Chan,” you groaned. “I’m tired. I can't go gallivanting -”
“You're not tired, you're depressed,” he argued. “And going outside will help you.”
“I might have to kill you,” you said seriously, and he rolled his eyes. 
In the end, he let you win. He'd been around long enough to know that eventually you'd venture outside again, hit the bars with him again, text first again, laugh at his stupid memes again. It was just a waiting game. 
Still, when he left, you sat on the edge of your couch with your chin in your hands. On the living room rug, the cat rolled and showed you its belly. 
“Not you, too,” you groused. 
The cat did a few alligator rolls and then scampered into your bedroom and under the bed, as if chased. 
You sighed. You made your way to the spare room, which had been shut - to keep the cat out. To keep your ghosts in. 
Your easel was still set up in the corner. You were kind of surprised it wasn't covered in cobwebs. You'd been sketching just on paper last time you'd worked, trying to make decisions that way so you wouldn't waste a canvas, and it still sat there. 
You inched closer, ran your hands over your brushes. Took a step back, eyed the paper and your sketches. 
It was bad. Thank god you hadn't put it to canvas. 
You pulled the paper down, crumpled it in your hands. You chased the cat out with a gentle nudge of your foot, and closed the door again, keeping both cats and ghosts on their respective sides of the door.
There was no rhyme or reason to your brain, no map or calendar to follow for the starts or stops. But eventually, the clouds broke. The grey gave way to baby buds of green, yellows pushed through soil, determined to meet the sun.
You texted Chan - drinks??
He responded - about time!!!
You texted Vernon - hello, its me
When he didn't answer, you tried again - sorry for the radio silence. 
Still nothing. 
You checked his socials, saw that he'd been doing his thing - a smattering of selfies, some group shots with the guys he played music with sometimes, a few nature shots: the moon, once, and what looked like the river at night. 
The silence stretched. You gave up, considered it over. Grieved a little, because it had been good. 
You went out on a night that teased summer even though it was months away, sank into the familiar blur of too many shots - not enough to be a problem, but maybe enough to make problems. 
Under the club's ever-moving lights, you took a selfie, your drink and cleavage both showcased in the shot. 
Send it to Vernon, the urge to make trouble suggested, and you listened without hesitation.
And - finally - an answer.
come here after?? 
You smiled a tiny, victorious smile and knocked back the rest of your drink. 
omw.
Later, he gave you a rare and devastating pout as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smoothed fingers down the still-shaking inside of your thigh.
“What'd you make me wait so long for?” he complained, those sharp eyes sparkling with mirth. When you shrugged, still a little mindless from your high, he gave the same spot on your thigh a playful slap. “Don't do it again.”
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1 yr, 4 months ago
busy tonight?
not busy but.
???
not in the best mood.
bet i could fix that.
yeah. idk.
why don't you let me try? 
“What's wrong?” you cooed, teasing, when Vernon let you into the apartment. 
He didn't smile, didn't play along, and it sobered you quickly. 
“Don't want to talk about it,” he muttered, crowding into your space. “Wasn't that big of a deal anyway.”
Just want the fix you promised, he thought. 
You moaned like liquid gold when his first kiss was a bite. Encouraged, Vernon gripped you by the shoulders, pushing you back against the wall hard enough that he heard your breath escape in a single huff. He hesitated, eyes searching your face; a question.
You lifted your chin, eyes shining with something hard. When he kissed you again, you threaded your fingers through his hair and pulled, hard enough to make him hiss; an answer.
His pace was frenzied from the start, your legs around his waist and the wall holding you up. His hand curled around your throat, not squeezing, but sliding up to grip at your jaw instead, keeping you from tilting your head back, closing your eyes, losing yourself in how he felt slamming his hips flush against yours with dizzying smacks.
When you whined that you were close, he pulled you away from the wall and lowered you both to the ground, the wooden floor of his entryway cold and hard beneath your spine. It didn’t matter, didn’t do anything to stop the vortex tightening below your stomach. You slapped a hand over your face as it distorted in pleasure, Vernon kneeling between the legs you still had gripping his waist, one of his hands braced on the floor next to your head, holding his body over you.
“That’s right,” he breathed, gritted teeth flashing over you, forehead wrinkling as his own release closed in on the chase. “Just fucking take it when I fuck you into the floor.”
Then he was pulling out, breaths hissing through his teeth as he straightened up, one hand pumping himself furiously until strings of white decorated your stomach, cooling immediately in the apartment’s chilly air.
His breathing was ragged as he sagged back onto his heels, and you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, watching him warily.
Then he stood and slipped into the hallway bathroom, the light clicking on and illuminating the unlit entryway where you’d just fucked. You heard the sink run, then shut back off, and Vernon returned. He knelt gingerly - you could see his knees were red from kneeling on the wooden floor - and cleaned your stomach first, then gently between your legs.
You sat the rest of the way up then, watching him carefully as he sat back on his heels again, avoiding your gaze. Something about the moment felt like a thing alive, unfurling between you like a casablanca lily under the refracted light of the moon.
You spoke at the same time.
“Vernon?”
“You okay?”
You swallowed, rubbed absently at your elbow where you’d smacked it on the floor during the position change.
“I’m fine,” you said tentatively. “Are you?”
He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face, and then peering through his fingers at you for a second before dropping them again. “Thought I hurt you.”
You shook your head. “I’m okay. I would have said something.”
He nodded, relief starting to bring feeling back to his hands again. He stood and reached a hand down for you. When you took it, he closed his fingers around yours and pulled you to your feet.
“I know we don’t usually do this,” you said, rubbing at the parts of you that had been on the floor - the backs of your legs, your ass, “but could I take a super fast shower before I go?”
“Yeah,” he said, so quickly that the word almost trips on itself. “Of course.”
He led you into the bathroom, rummaged in the disorganized linen closet for a clean towel, pressed it into your hands.
“If you need one, too,” you said easily, as he reached around you to turn the water on so it could heat up, “I don’t mind if you join me.”
He paused. “You sure?”
You shrugged, then leaned over to put your hand under the spray, testing to see if it was still cold. “It’s your shower.”
Under the stream of warm water, you turned to face him, front to front, looking up at him with clear eyes. Something in your expression was so open, Vernon couldn’t help but feel both the desire to step into the space you seemed to be offering him as well as the desire to get far, far away from it.
He’d been so angry before you’d texted, furious enough that he’d bruised his knuckles punching the doorframe; now, as the chemicals in his body settled down, he felt those knuckles throbbing. He was disgusted that he’d lost his temper, guilty that he’d taken any of that anger out on you, who had nothing to do with it.
He was scared of the desire he felt to be closer to you, just for tonight. Scared that fucking you hadn’t been enough to soothe whatever it was that roiled inside him, like it usually was. Scared that he felt like he needed more than sex to heal this particular burn.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and part of him thought he was apologizing in advance, like he knew already he’d run scared at some point. “For being so...”
He didn’t know what word fit best. 
“I told you,” you said, pressing a little closer, “I would have said if I had a problem.”
“Okay,” he said, frowning a little. “If you’re sure.”
Then he reached over and brushed a thumb along your cheekbone, chasing away a rivulet of shower-water. You closed your eyes for a second, and he swore he could feel you lean into the touch, just slightly.
He didn’t know how to explain how he felt. Kind of like he’d done a hot-coal-walk; the exhaustion that came with an adrenaline crash, the vulnerability that came after facing down something big, that need - the burn inside him needing cool water before it could quiet down.
With the shower off, the silence in the bathroom was loud.
“Do you…” Vernon started, then stopped. His heart hammered, the adrenaline returning. He covered the moment by toweling his hair roughly and pulling his hands through the strands so they’d lay right. “Do you want to stay for a little bit? I was gonna order delivery, maybe watch something before I finish my assignment.”
He’d expected you to think about it, to turn it over in your mind the way you turn his things over in your careful hands, the way you turn him ass over head with just a smirk. Instead, you nodded right away.
“Yeah,” you said, like it was no big deal. Like you did this all the time. Maybe you did, just not with him. “I was starving, actually. I could stay for an hour or two.”
On his couch, the leftovers of the food scattered on his coffee table, you reached for his hand, ran a thumb imperceptibly along his purpled knuckles. You didn’t ask what happened, just brought them to your lips and pressed the lightest kiss before putting them down again and reaching for your noodles, as if it hadn’t happened at all.
That was when Vernon saw the potential of it, an entire picture, framed and labeled: you could hurt him so badly if he let you, if he let it get that far. For whatever it was that burned inside him, you were the cool water… but you could absolutely be gasoline, instead.
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1 yr, 3 months ago
If you closed your eyes, you could pretend the light that passed over your closed lids in a repetitive pattern was the sweep of a lighthouse beam. You could pretend that the rumbling bass of the music was the roar of the ocean. You could pretend that you weren’t here, in a shitty bar, but at the seaside. You could pretend that you weren’t alone. You could pretend that you weren’t you.
You drained your drink and caught the bartender’s eye, gesturing for another, sliding the sweating glass away from you once you knew a new one was coming.
“What are you drinking?”
The voice came from your right, and you lifted tired, disinterested eyes to find the source of it.
“G and T,” you answered, because it was one fewer syllable than saying gin and tonic and maybe that one syllable would do the dirty work for you and tell this guy that you didn’t want to talk to him.
“Nice,” he said, like you’d said something interesting, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. You didn’t return the question, just slid your phone screen on and opened your messages.
wyd
drinks at my hyungs place. wbu
damn. guess i have to settle for one of these very mid prospects at the willow
damn thats a sad story. if only you had a better option
if only my better option werent busy at his hyung’s
no one said i had to stay here. ur at the willow?
yep
The guy to your right tried again. “The DJ tonight kind of sucks, huh?”
You looked back at your phone.
don’t leave
You smiled into your drink, a thrill dancing through your bloodstream. The lights and music didn’t seem as garish as they had ten minutes ago.
“My boyfriend’s on his way to pick me up,” you said flatly to the guy who kept trying to talk to you, “so you might want to find someone else to complain about the DJ to.”
The word tasted like lemonade on your tongue - acidic and sour, sweet and refreshing, taste buds blooming and shriveling in tandem. Even the knowledge that it was a flat-out lie didn’t stop your heart from beating faster.
You expected the guy to get up and leave, maybe throw you a dirty look on his way. Instead, he seemed to call your bluff, narrowing his eyes like he was trying to read you.
“I don’t think I’d let my girlfriend go out alone looking like this,” he said evenly, and you let out a derisive laugh.
“The fact that you just said the words let my girlfriend probably has a lot to do with why you’re here alone,” you countered, a flash of victory slicing up your spine when you saw his face flush.
Before he could retort, you hopped down from your barstool, pushing your way into the crowded dance floor. You didn’t even want to dance, you just wanted to get away. If Vernon wanted to find you, he could come find you. He’d told you not to leave, he hadn’t said make it easy for me.
He found you anyway; he made it look easy. He stepped around a group of guys talking in a circle and into your space, like he was following a path, like he knew there’d be room for him.
You were happy to see him. You were happy he came. You were happy to breathe him in, to feel the warmth of his body and smell his cologne and hear your name tumble from his mouth like a statement. You were too drunk to tuck these truths away into pockets and folds where they would be harder to find.
You stepped to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. If he was surprised, his body hid it well. His hands came to rest on your lower back, pressing you closer to him as you leaned up to find his mouth.
You kissed him slowly, at odds with the frantic bassline vibrating under your feet. You let him tip your head back, changing the angle, sweeping your mouth with his tongue until you both tasted lemonade.
“Happy to see me?” he asked, a hint of a smirk on his face, one eyebrow arched in question and one half of his mouth twitching into a smile.
You didn’t have it in you to lie, so instead you said, “Your place?”
He led you outside.
As luck would have it, the idiot from the bar stood beside the front door, a cigarette between two fingers. His expression darkened when he recognized you, then further when he saw your fingers linked with Vernon’s as you stepped into the quiet night.
“Your girlfriend’s a fucking bitch,” the guy bit out, dropping the cigarette butt and stepping on it.
Vernon’s eyebrows shot up.
Evenly, he said, “She’s not -”
She’s not my girlfriend. You felt your stomach swoop, and you felt yourself flinch.
“- a bitch. She’s just smarter than you.”
Vernon tugged on your hand, leading you across the street to his parked, waiting car.
You tried to bite back a smile, and he looked sideways at you, his own lips twitching.
“What?” he demanded.
“What?” you parroted.
He scowled at you, but his lips were just smiling. “What?” he asked again.
You laughed. “Let’s go,” you said. “The bitch wants to kiss you more.”
You expected his smile to sharpen. Instead, something in it seems to soften, changing from teasing to actual affection.
“Alright,” he said, turning to start the engine. “Can’t really say no to that, can I?”
“You could,” you mused, as he pulled away from the curb and the bar slid into nothingness behind you, “but I just don’t think you should.”
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1 yr, 2 months ago
wyd
melting
srsly
no, seriously. i am laying on my living room floor like a starfish trying not to turn into liquid
come to hyungs
its too hot to move
i have an idea, come meet me at hyungs
You frowned at your phone. Of course your aircon died during the only heatwave you could remember in your entire adult life. Your whole body felt sticky; you were pretty sure you were stuck to your floor.
It was too hot to move.
what’s the idea??
you’ll see. i’ll order u a car. can you bring a couple towels?
“Vernon, no,” you laughed, your voice echoing.
He shushed you through laughter, both of you leaning on each other as you stood at the edge of the yard, the grass tickling the bottoms of your bare feet. Upstairs, at his friend’s place, you’d thrown back a few shots for courage before following Vernon out here, and you were feeling them, your head swimming like your body might soon be.
“It’s a circuit, see?” he tried to explain, pointing through the night, as if you could see through all the fences and over all the hedges. “Five yards, five pools, and then we end up right back here and we get in the car and go. Just follow me, don’t stop for anything.”
“Someone’s gonna call the cops,” you complained. “And these neighborhoods all have cameras.”
“That’s why we keep moving,” he said, his grin so excited and so un-Vernon that you almost couldn’t bear to say no to him. “No one’s gonna call the cops if we’re already gone - it’s not worth it. You ready?”
You hesitated. “You’re good to drive us out of here?” you checked.
He held up his hands as if to show innocence. “Only had a beer,” he promised. “But I’ve got something fun in the car for after, if you want.”
You felt your grin turn wolfish. “Okay. I’m right behind you.”
“Try and be quiet,” he warned, then took off running across the yard, cannonballing into the pool with a splash.
You tore off after him, leaping into the water and suppressing a shriek when the cold water hit you. You felt instantly sober, jittery with adrenaline, alive with laughter. You spluttered your way to the surface and pushed water away from your eyes, trying to find him through the shadows.
He was already climbing out the other side, water running down his back, the muscle shifting in the half-light as he hoisted himself back onto the pool’s deck. You hurried across the pool, climbing up beside him, giggling wildly.
“Shhh,” he warned, but he was giggling too as he led you carefully over the fence to the next yard.
As soon as you crept close enough to the pool to jump, a motion-activated light came on, flooding the yard white and causing you to cover your eyes.
“Quick!” Vernon told you, grabbing your arm and pulling you in with him as he jumped.
You let out a stream of bubbles and water rushed into your mouth. You felt your feet hit the bottom and you pushed off hard, surfacing quickly.
Again, you followed him across the pool, both of you laughing and whispering, “Hurry! Quick!” as you climbed out and headed around the house to the front yard.
“Okay, this is the hard part,” he told you, both of you shivering as the night air caught up to you. “We have to cross the street, hop the fence, and then the pool is around back.”
“I’m ready,” you promised, with a particularly hard shiver.
You sprinted across the street, both leaving wet footprints on the pavement. His hand felt warm in yours when he helped you over the fence, warm on your body when he held your waist as you climbed down.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you muttered, but giggles still spilled out of you.
“More fun than melting, right?” he asked, and you thought that you’d seen him smile more tonight than in whole months of coming together at night.
You thought you might move mountains to see him smile like this again, gums showing, open and honest, happy.
Then you were underwater again, swimming hard to keep up, following Vernon through the night as he pushed his way through some hedges and held them apart for you.
You made it to the last house before someone caught you, slamming the back door open and shouting, “Hey!”
“Go, go, go!” Vernon cried, laughing with such abandon that it sounded like goose honks, pulling on your hand as you both stumbled, dripping, towards the car.
You’d set towels on the seats before starting, so you tumbled into the car and he peeled away, both of you laughing wildly as you left the neighborhood behind.
It was miles before you calmed down, gasping in breaths and trying to hold them before exploding into laughter again.
“I’d better not end up on the news,” you scolded. “I’m in my underwear.
He gave you a searing sideways look. “I noticed.”
You felt yourself warm again, despite being in soaking wet clothes.
“Where next?” you asked. “Home?”
He let out a breath that was almost a sigh. “I don’t really want to go home,” he admitted. Then, “I was having fun with you.”
You considered this. “Not to be a cliche, but… I know a place.”
The quarry was quiet, surrounded by only trees; without posted lights, everything seemed to be just varying shades of black - the black of the water just darker than the black of the stone ledges just darker than the walls of trees just darker than the sky sprinkled with stars above you.
“We have to be careful,” you warned him seriously. “If you slip and get hurt, it could be bad.”
He turned the flashlight on his phone on and set it next to the metal rungs that jutted out of the stone, a makeshift ladder for the swimmers who came here during the day, when swimming was allowed.
“It’s going to be way colder than the pools,” you added.
“You’re not selling this very well,” he pointed out.
“Don’t be a chicken,” you teased.
He eyed the water. “I’m having second thoughts.”
You nudged him in the ribs, which caused him to squirm away, hands batting at yours, a noise emitting from him that made you laugh out loud.
“Are you ticklish?” you demanded. “How did I not know?”
“Come on, are we jumping or what?” he asked, laughing, still trying to keep your sneaky hands away from his ribs.
“Yeah, that’s probably the only way to actually get in,” you admitted, still laughing a little. Your abs felt a little sore from how much you’d laughed tonight.
You stood on the edge of the stone, toes curling over the ledge, Vernon’s hand tight in yours. You stood on the edge, the ink-like water beneath you rippling slightly, marring the reflection of the constellations high above you. You stood on the edge of something, knowing full well you were afraid to swim.
He counted you down, and together, you jumped.
The water was freezing - it hurt, it stung, and you shrieked and laughed as you surfaced. A foot from you, Vernon was shouting.
“The towels!” you told him, already swimming towards the little dot of light that marked the ladder.
Shaking and shivering, you reached your towel, wrapping it around yourself. Behind you, Vernon jogged up, making noises like a disgruntled horse as he found his own towel.
“Oh my god,” he groused, grabbing for you. “I’m freezing, come here.”
He opened his arms, the towel behind him like a wingspan, and you stepped into the space, letting him wrap his arms and his towel around you. You stood shivering together, trying to let your body heat chase the cold away.
You wrapped your own arms around his middle, pressing yourself closer as your legs shook, shivers rolling up your spine in waves as your body fought the chill. 
“C’mere,” he murmured above you, holding you a little more tightly, his own teeth chattering. 
It was the first time, you realized as you turned your head to rest your cheek on his chest, that you’d held each other. It was the first time you’d been between his arms when you weren’t fucking, the first time he’d tightened his grip around you for a reason other than gratification. 
You didn’t want it - didn’t want to know that it felt nice in his embrace, didn’t want to know that it fit right and felt safe. You didn’t want to know that you liked it, didn’t want to have to fight against the humiliation of wanting more.
As soon as the full-body tremors died away in the warm, sticky night, you stepped away, eager to put distance between you again. 
Later, he looked over at you from the driver’s seat of the car, red-eyed, his smile stretching slow and thick like putty. When you straddled his lap, his hands searching out the bare skin of your back, you rocked against him and pressed open-mouthed kisses to the column of his pretty throat until you were pulling groans from him with each pass of your hips. 
Forget, you thought, as you pulled your underwear to the side for him. Forget every single thing but this.
When you slipped an arm behind his neck and pressed your foreheads together as you lifted and dropped, you weren’t sure whose memory you were hoping to erase with this most recent pleasure-chase: yours, or his.
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1 yr, 1 month ago
There was no map or calendar to this thing your brain did. It was summer, the sun shone, and yet the days bled together again, sunsets swirling down the shower drain.
The last time you’d gone radio silent, the last time your world had gone grey without warning, Vernon had answered in kind. His own silence had shouted for him until you’d tempted him back.
This time, he didn’t resort to silence in retaliation to yours. Instead, he kept trying, relentless. If you’d had more presence of mind, you might have wondered why.
wyd
[ ]
yo. whats the deal
[ ]
i will have you know that this is very insulting
[ ]
don’t get mad but im coming over
“What the fuck, Vernon.”
“I said don’t get mad.”
“It doesn’t work like that. What are you doing here?”
He leveled you with a look. “You gonna let me in?”
“Literally, no.”
You hadn’t showered in days; your apartment was probably grosser than you were. The cat milled around your ankles, trying to weasel its way outside, and you hopped from foot to foot trying to nudge it back inside.
“Why not?” he asked.
You huffed, annoyed. But the annoyance was the first thing you’d felt all day, and something inside you clung to it, desperate for more of anything but the crawling nothing that’s kept you company for days.
“Because,” you grumbled. Because there’s nothing for you here. Because I have nothing I can give you. “I’m… just not in the mood.”
He stepped back from the door so you could see more of him. “I’m not asking you to be.”
“Then why are you here?” The words fell between you, heavy. If you hadn’t been so low, if you hadn’t gone all day without eating, if you hadn’t been on your thirtieth hour without sleeping, you would have known better. You would have realized that you were asking, if you aren’t here for sex, then what are you here for? 
You wouldn’t have asked a question that you didn’t want the answer to.
He met your eyes. He seemed to teeter on the edge of telling you the truth, giving you the real answer. Then, he muttered, “Got bored.”
You knew it wasn’t the whole truth, and he knew you knew it, and yet neither of you were willing to look at it directly.
“I fail to see how that’s my problem,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.
He watched you for what felt like a long time, face serious, eyes glittering and attentive. Then, instead of answering, he repeated, “Are you gonna let me in?”
You frowned at him, but there was a little more pout to it than anger. “I’m all gross,” you said, instead of answering.
Something in him softened - it was visible on his face, in his shoulders, like he knew this was your way of saying yes. “So let’s shower,” he suggested quietly.
You felt trepidation, like part of you expected him to stay soft, to try to take care of you. To your relief, Vernon acted like everything was normal, scrunching his face at you when the water was too cold as he stepped in, washing his own body in silence and letting you do your thing.
He didn’t try to hold you, didn’t ask you when you’d eaten last, didn’t try to talk about it - didn’t try to fix it. He was just… there, and this - along with your first shower in days - was somehow revitalizing in itself.
You pulled on clean sweats, which was better than the day-four sweats he’d found you in. “The apartment’s kind of… sorry,” you mumbled, looking around the living room, feeling a bit of that familiar shame crawl up your neck as you noticed the evidence that you hadn’t been picking up, or running a vacuum.
Vernon flopped backwards on your sofa, unphased, one arm bent behind his head. “We’ve been doing this for almost a year,” he pointed out. “I know how it usually is.”
It isn’t usually like this. And neither are you.
You wondered when it happened - your ability to finish his half-thoughts, your ability to know what he meant when he only said a fraction of it.
You stood awkwardly beside the couch where he was lounging, and he looked up at you with a tiny, amused smile.
“What do you wanna do?”
What you really wanted to do was cocoon yourself in blankets again and put on repeats of a show you’d already seen. But now you had to look functional. You might be mad at him for showing up like this, now that you thought about it.
“I dunno,” you said, which was close to the truth.
“You wanna eat?”
“Honestly?” you asked, pursing your lips a little. “No.”
“Okay,” he said easily, and it struck you again how different this was than how Chan treated you when you were low. Chan would have already had the food delivered, and would be chasing you around the table with loaded chopsticks, demanding you take a bite.
“Can we just… watch something?” you asked, unsure.
Vernon wordlessly reached for your remote and held it up to you, nonplussed.
You wondered if it was an act, how easy this was, how unbothered he was, how he seemed to just understand what wouldn’t help.
You knew it wasn’t; you’d been around long enough to know that Vernon’s demons weren’t all that different from yours.
You settled somewhere between his body and the back of the couch, one leg bent over his legs, one of your arms over his stomach and his arm curled around your shoulders.
“This is weird,” you muttered into his chest, and his laugh rumbled under you.
“Why?” he asked, his smile big, like he thought you were particularly funny. “Not used to being big spoon?”
Not used to cuddling - with you.
“Yeah,” you said, because that was easier.
On your TV, a show ran through several episodes, the changing scenes splashing you and Vernon with changing colors, casting his face blue and then white and then black and then red and then blue again. Sometimes he’d watch, sometimes he’d scroll on his phone. You mostly felt his heart beating under your hand and let your mind whir.
At some point he started mindlessly (or not mindlessly, who could know) stroking your back, gentle touches brushing up and down, slow, slow, the way he always was. At some point you shivered, goosebumps rising along your arms, and snuggled closer to him. At some point he shifted you from slightly beside him to on top of him, a second hand slipping under your loose tshirt and joining the first in tracing stripes up and down your upper back.
You shifted against him, something coming to life with a shudder like the furnace in your parent’s basement on cold autumn nights. Heat worked its way slowly from your core to your stomach, down your legs.
He kept his eyes on the tv, innocent, but you could hear his heartbeat. It couldn’t lie and pretend.
You shifted again, squirming until you’d worked his t-shirt up just enough that you could touch skin, too. You trailed your own fingers over the inch of exposed stomach you’d found, and delighted in the way you could feel him start to harden beneath you.
Then, you delighted in your delight. It was the first good thing you’d been able to feel in almost a week.
You said his name, and he finally looked down at you, eyes nearly black in the unlit room.
“What is it?” he asked, and his voice was suddenly so low it sent shivers tumbling down each vertebrae and tripping over to your limbs. “Want me to make you feel good?”
No, you wanted to say as you answered his question by pulling the hem of his t-shirt higher, encouraging him to lift up so you could pull it off. No, just want you to make me feel.
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1 year ago
Everywhere Vernon looked, all he saw was circles. Circle of red in his bowl when he inhaled. Circle of condensation on the table when he lifted his beer. Circle of light reflecting from his phone case, laying in the setting sunlight, to the ceiling. Above him, the ceiling fan circled lazily, nowhere to be.
And you - you and him. That was a circle, too. A cycle, at least, which was close enough in his opinion. Text, hook up, skitter back to your respective places, wait out the next weekend. It was as rhythmic and routine as waves breaking and then getting pulled back out only to come shatter on sand again. It was out of his control, up to forces far greater than he was.
Vernon’s friends had texted to hang out and he’d declined. He told them he was seeing his parents, but really, he just wanted to be alone. He wanted to watch the ceiling fan circle, he wanted to let his brain go staticky quiet, he wanted to burrow deep into things that made him feel less.
But he still, somehow, wanted to see you. He wanted to be alone, and being with you didn’t feel like not getting that.
It was a little scary, he thought, that you were the exception. That he could be with you without feeling the uncomfortable pressure of being with others, of having to be on, of having to fake cheerfulness and keep up with chatter that only exhausted him.
Vernon wasn’t a kid. He knew what it meant.
whats up
honestly not a lot. want me to come over?
Yeah, he did. He did, even if you weren’t going to hook up. He did, even if you were just going to lay on opposite sides of the couch and scroll on your phones. He did, and he hoped he’d end up with his arms around you, and he hoped he’d make you laugh at least once, and he hoped you’d stay and just be there with him after.
When you came over, he asked you how you felt about it - about him, about you and him. He asked by laying you on your back in his bed, by brushing fingertips along your face. He asked you by sliding your leggings away gently, pressing his mouth to each inch of your inseam as it became exposed to his dimly lit room. He asked you by kissing you through the lace you wore for him, then kissing the same spot once that lace was on his floor.
He asked you when he crawled up your body until his tip teased at your entrance and you whined, shifting to try to take him. And - when he took it slow this time, teeth scraping at your neck and then tongue hurrying to soothe the sting, his arms bracketing your body like he was sheltering you from an incoming storm.
(Maybe, he considered, he was.)
(Maybe, he considered, he was worthless in the face of this storm’s wrath.)
(Maybe, he considered, he was the fucking storm in the first place.)
And you heard his question loud and clear. You pulled on your leggings as soon as you were cleaned up, popping your hood up over your head as you searched for your phone. You kept your eyes on your screen as you waited for a car to come, murmured, “Later,” on your way out the door.
Vernon’s apartment rang with quiet. He was alone, he’d gotten what he’d wanted.
He’d also, it seemed, gotten his answer.
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thank you so much for reading!!! i'm always happy to hear what you think!
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kyouka-supremacy · 1 year ago
Text
I was asked why I like Beast and why I prefer it over the main universe, so obviously I ended up with a 2k+ words essay on why Beast is great. Now I feel like it diverges too much from what the original ask was actually asking for, so I'm leaving it to its own post. Enjoy.
Why do you like Beast? So, first of all you MUST know that this is a question that could keep me talking for days to no end. I'm not kidding. Here there will be some disorganized rambles but trust me, if I had time to actually do so I'd keep going on forever.
Alternative universes are cool I love Beast. I think it starts off at a point when the bsd author was more experienced from having already worked with the main series for many years, and ultimately ended up making an alternative version of the work that is more mature and refined, while still maintaining bsd's core themes (and conservative worldviews at that lmao). Starting off, the “what if” concept is endlessly fascinating, pretty much the entire fandom culture is based on it. It IS unfailingly cool to see what could have happened if Akutagawa sided with the ada and Atsushi with the pm, it is extremely interesting to see what changes out of their personalities and on the other hand what stays the same, what is intrinsically them. About sskk, I find it really compelling how Beast tackles intimate aspects of their lives, pasts and traumas. The café scene is genuinely brilliant in the way it shows, completely unexpectedly and to the reader's full disbelief, them getting along in normal circumstances. Who could have predicted that! Of all things, Akutagawa and Atsushi getting along. But it happened, and nothing before had ever shown to that extent how similar they are, how much on the same page they are, how much they're meant to be– like yeah obviously I mean romantically, but even if you're not particularly into that, it displayed just how deeply connected they are. I'm forever grateful for that scene.
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Beast Akutagawa is great But I think… More in general, I just really like Beast Akutagawa and Beast Atsushi, even better than their canon counterparts 😅 Again I do think at the point when they wrote Beast the author had already gathered a lot of experience from serializing bsd for at least five years, and ended up making characters that are more solid and compelling (although please don't get me wrong, I LOVE canon sskk and I believe canon Akutagawa's character arc in particular is amazing. It's just that at least to me Beast sskk is everything I could ever ask for.). I love Beast Akutagawa! It was so so capturing to see him grow outside of the pm. And especially it was infinitely interesting to see Akutagawa grow outside of Dazai. And don't get me wrong, I love the influence Dazai has on canon Akutagawa, I wouldn't have it any other way: it made Akutagawa who he is, and I love reading about his character. But I also found it wonderful and pleasantly refreshing to see how he would be if he had never undergone Dazai's training; I like this Akutagawa who's possibly even more immature and impulsive, wild and untamed than his canon counterpart. Beast is also the universe where Akutagawa gets his chance at being a good person - which is something he desperately strived for but never got to have in the main universe -, and in the end I am a little attached to Akutagawa, so I'm happy for him! His relationship with Oda and the whole ada are wonderful, I like getting to experience a universe where Akutagawa is loved and supported, unapologetically, for who he is.
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Beast Atsushi is great Beast Atsushi is AMAZING. Like. Character molded appositely to my liking ahah. He's so cool! He's so tormented! He's sweet and cruel and utterly unstable! I love him so much. He truly is Atsushi at his full potential. I love this Atsushi who's biggest fear isn't the world, but rather himself. He's beautiful and horrible and deathly and kind. He killed his abuser to stop him from haunting his nightmares, but ended up turning those nightmares into his life. He takes his coffee with three sugars. He loves his little sister and would risk the safety of his organization and the boss he's endlessly loyal to for her. The only person who ever understood him is his most loathed enemy. He's one with death and indistinguishable from darkness. His laughter stops rain. He lives in perpetual physical pain due to a choker constantly piercing around his neck and yet even that is nothing compared to the damage of his psyche. He's so, so fucked up. He deserves the world. I LOVE HIM.
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Beast Dazai is great Also, I really like Beast Dazai!!! He's always Dazai, but I think his character works out a lot better in Beast for the role he covers. In canon Dazai is this omniscient, all knowing figure, but he's also a protagonist, and him being so perfectly flawless doesn't go well in the long run. You've seen it in the last season 5 episode, it just gets boring after a while– it would be nice to see him face actual challenges and high stakes for once, but he's so overpowered, that never happens. In Beast, it's pretty much the same deal (author really loves Dazai lmao), but the fact that he isn't the protagonist and instead the main villain? I feel like from a storytelling standpoint, it works so much better!! I mean, his being omniscient works a lot better– he's not the one who the reader expects facing challenges and high stakes, the protagonist is. In addition, in Beast Dazai has almost universal knowledge due to his link to the Book, so that makes his being omniscient and even god-like a lot more feasible and easy to contemplate! I think that plot-wise it just works a lot better, there's an actual reason he's so overpowered, and that reason is explained, it's in the text. Oh and I LOVE his utter devotion to Oda. I know it's the same in canon, but still… There in Beast you can see it concretely, you can see it everywhere. That very universe exists how it is because of Dazai's love for Oda, because there's nothing he wouldn't do for him, because in the whole universe, in the whole multiverse, Oda's happiness is the only thing that matters to him. I think such strong feelings of love being put so explicitly is something simply wonderful to read, and makes Dazai infinitely more sympathetic than what he may be in canon. “But I do have one regret, Odasaku— I won't be able to read the novel you'll complete one day.” LIKE YEAH, SURE, ALRIGHT, JUST SHOOT ME TO THE HEAD ALREADY. That line alone is worth the whole novel, honestly. Oh and the thing about Oda harshly repudiating Dazai, the man who literally did everything for him, who dedicated his whole life for him… Man!!! That REALLY made me sympathize with Dazai in a way canon will never be able to. All those factors only contribute making Dazai's suicide in the end all the more emotional– which I believe works really well in the story, he is an enemy and he is a god and he had to die, but still makes for an extremely emotionally charged scene and a wonderful story climax. Imo Beast Dazai had to die so that canon Dazai could live (and, hopefully, find a reason to live!), and it's as bitter as it is beautiful.
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The Beast ada dynamics are great And I love the ada in Beast!!! They feel infinitely more of a family than they do in canon. Kenji, Kunikida, Tanizaki, they all seem to love Akutagawa in a way that's hard to be found towards Atsushi in canon? The way they didn't falter to rescue Akutagawa even as he went, against all their advices and pleas, to a suicidal rampage was wonderful and heartwarming. They make it sound unbelievable that when Atsushi was (mind you, unwillingly) kidnapped their first response would be that it was an hassle and that he should have dealt with it on his own (this time I truly believe it was the author learning from their own mistakes, because seriously, who does that. It makes everyone instantly feel a thousand times less sympathetic). As people have said, the ada alone makes Beast feel like the “right” universe on the basis that in it they actually care about their members. All things considered, the ada treats Akutagawa as this kind of rabid murderous gremlin they just adopted who's going to bite everyone but that they still love no matter what, and it's super cute. Beast ada really is the bsd found family if there ever was one.
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A cool plot The Beast storyline is just very compelling in general? The introduction chapter is amazing, I mean, The Heartless Cur is amazing. Again, Beast Akutagawa is such a great character, and the description of his struggle to find his own humanity, although in my opinion does fall weak in some points and has flaws, still treats a concept that's very interesting to ponder over nonetheless. I like how there's a series of more light-hearted chapters in the first half, it helps solidify the characters, and those chapters are really nice to read; not to mention having lighter chapters alternated with the strikingly more gloomy and violent pm Atsushi scenes makes the latter feel all the more frightening and disturbing, it's a great narrative choice. And the big crescendo of Akutagawa storming in the pm headquarters! His fight of physics and morals against Atsushi! Them telling each other they're nothing like the other when the reader knows the exact opposite is true! It's all very good, and again, Dazai's suicide makes for a perfect climax to the story.
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Sometimes being a seinen can be good I like how Beast is a seinen way more than the main story is? Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with shounen manga - which bsd seems to lean towards more often than not, with only occasionally tackling more adult concepts -, but at this specific time in my life those darker themes are just something I find more entertaining to read about. I feel like the gritty and often gruesome depictions, although maybe a little overused in the manga, really help emphasize the dark atmosphere of the manga and overall effectively convey the whole “beast” imaginary as wild / violent / unpleasant / animalistic.
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It's got sskk in it And in general it's just… Compared to canon, Beast is very very sskk centered. It's significantly shorter than the canon manga, and in a way that helped focus on sskk specifically, because it only had space to narrate one story, which is sskk's. And I don't know what to tell you, I'm here for the sskk. Of course I like Beast best.
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Beast Atsushi is great (cont.) Back to Beast Atsushi because he's everything, really. I love how when I went into Beast I was like “I mean, whatever Dazai is making of Atsushi under the pm, if can't possibly be any worse than the constant abuse Akutagawa had to experience 😊” AND I WAS PROVED WRONG. I mean, I think the fact alone that the author could come up with something worse is remarkable. Dazai's emotional manipulation and psychological torment is, I believe, the darkest facet of Dazai we ever witnessed, and it's extremely well executed. Beast Atsushi is so so unstable, so on the brim of mental breakdown and psychosis at every second. Him being made unable to let go of the past makes him live in a perpetual nightmare. And I feel like the way his character story is unwrapped is truly masterful, storytelling wise!!!! On the reader's first encounter with him, it's evident how deeply scarred and disturbed he is, but the reader can't tell why. That adds to the mystery and feeling of unsettling surrounding the character: his story is wrapped up by darkness and it's impossible to predict, just like he is– and it's deliciously unsettling, scary, to be unable to tell anything about what made him like he is except from guessing that it must have been something really bad. And yet even then /nothing/ could have prepared the reader to what his backstory really is? And when the traumatic event is finally unveiled, it's worse then any guess the reader could have made. Atsushi's back to the orphanage flashback passage is terrifying! He didn't undergo any harm, like it would have been easy to guess; on the contrary, his torment stems from having killed his abuser. But he did so at a point when he didn't represent a threat for him anymore, when he was proud of him, when he got close to resemble a father to his eyes; and all of this he realized too late; and now he lives in constant regret, constant terror of himself. It's great, really! And even then, Atsushi carries on with being. super cool lmao. Like yeah he's unstable and everything, he's wild and violent, but he's also still very kind. He's timid and blushes easily. He also feels a lot more mature than he does in canon, and it's nice to see. He's more confident and serious, and that's nice too. He REALLY is my favorite character.
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Some pretty cool scenes are in it Moving on, Beast has some truly amazing scenes. The Heartless Cur is amazing and builds up such an awesome character, Atsushi's introduction is petrifying, the Kenji / Akutagawa conversation is as deeply moving as it is cathartic. I won't be talking about the sskk café scene. Akutagawa's whole assault to the pm headquarters is rich of emotional scenes. I already talked about Atsushi's flashback and Dazai's suicide being wonderful passages both from technical and emotional standpoints. And the manga ending is just so good!!!!!!! Like it truly is the perfect ending– the way it ties up with the main story! How it feels like ada Akutagawa's story has just begun, a conclusion but also hope for what's to come. The “out behind our company's building there are some people of low character hanging about”– I can't stress enough how emotional this line, a final and definite tie to the main story, makes me, how meaningful it is in its quality of being both an ending, and a beginning. The last page showing Akutagawa at the center of the ada, it just moves me so deeply to see him being the protagonist, surrounded by a crowd of people who love and support him, getting his own chance at a life in the light 😭😭😭 “I'm going to live as an agency member. I'll solve cases, rescue the weak, and prove that I'm not evil.” Crying my eyes out 😭😭😭😭😭😭 And don't get me started on when Akutagawa and Atsushi's voices mix up to speak as one; I could never hope to be able to express what that makes me feel.
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Siblings dynamics are my jam I also love Beast because one of the main aspects that drives the plot is Ryuunosuke and Gin's relationship, and I /love/ siblings relationships, and I //love// Ryuunosuke and Gin's relationship. I don't think Gin's character was written well at all (because the author literally can't write female characters for the life of theirs), but eh, at least it reinforced the concept that Ryuunosuke loves Gin terribly and would be able to do anything for her. Atsushi and Kyouka's relationship, too, is to die for.
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The designs and manga art style slay Besides, the character designs are beautiful???? Akutagawa's Beast outfit is my second favorite out of the whole franchise, it's just such a look™. I love in general how rabid and messy Akutagawa looks in Beast, he feels so much more free? And like, good for him. In my head Beast Atsushi is the most handsome man in the entire franchise and I don't think I can take criticism on this. I find cutting off his longer bang such a witty way to represent not only how this Atsushi is different from the one we know (after all, that's the most remarkable and eye-catching feature of his appearance!), but also to symbolize how the cut with his past at the orphanage was harsh and violent. Characters designs aside, Hoshikawa's art style is GORGEUS. It's hard and rough and messy, it's dark and unpolished and violent and beautiful and exactly everything Beast is. It's PERFECT for the story, it's like it was made to portray it.
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Sskk is always great And that's just talking about the canon content but like. Beast means a Beast sskk. Which is basically new and improved sskk. And I like sskk. And I like every version of sskk but especially this version where they're even more violent and fucked up and madly in love with each other and evidently meant to be. So yeah.
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And this is like, just the very tip of the iceberg of what I love about Beast. Humbling offering you this Beast love letter in hope we can all give this novel the appreciation it deserves (๑˃‌ᴗ˂‌)۶
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ineffabildaddy · 1 year ago
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i know this may be obvious to a lot of people, but i thought it was worth saying anyway: i love the good omens fandom because it encourages contribution more than any other popular fandom i've been in.
i'm incapable of being a casual fan of anything. it's just not in my nature. i've been in fandom spaces just over a decade - fandoms related to musicians, books, films and tv shows - and yet i've never been in a fandom that captures, creates, analyses, jokes, and just talks more than this one.
in most of the fandoms i've been in, there's a lot of passive consumption of fan content, which is obviously great and we all do it, but in the good omens fandom, that doesn't seem to make up the majority of our behaviour. in fact, when i got back on tumblr for the first time in 7 years after watching season 2, i had a look around at what the fandom was doing for a day or two and my first thought was: oh god, what if i've got nothing to say? what if i've got nothing to add that hasn't already been added? i immediately felt that i wouldn't truly be part of things if i didn't get stuck in.
if i'm fixated on something or particularly enjoying it at one time, i might wake up in the morning or pick up my phone/laptop thinking, i want to see more, hear more, learn more about this thing. that's still the case with good omens, but with the addition of, how can i contribute today? how can i bring something to the fandom, how can i connect with it, how can i consistently encourage and support the people in it? and that's all because of how artistic, analytical, poetic, humorous but above all enthusiastic all of you are.
the truth is, i'm not at all a confident person. i've got a film degree, i've done stand-up comedy and i've written comedy sketches, i was a popular fanfiction writer for years (hi supernatural fans), and i've shared poetry, too. so, i have got experience in things that could make my contributions to fandom spaces worthwhile (not that you need any particular achievements under your belt). yet usually, the fact that people are doing things that i'm doing infinitely better than me puts me off the idea of doing them at all. so, oftentimes i don't do them, or if i do i put them down immediately and keep them private.
i'm still very much experiencing that feeling since becoming active in the good omens fandom, precisely because there's so much talent and dedication here, but i'm trying to ignore it because it feels like everyone who wants to say something is genuinely valued - especially since people who think differently about aspects of the book and show aren't actually fighting with each other or obsessed with proving they're right, which is quite rare in my experiences of fandoms.
it's been really really refreshing to become an active part of this fandom and i do hope it remains that way as more time elapses since season 2 was released. i have a feeling it will because we've all chosen one of the most wonderful stories of our time to engage with, and the fans' love for it was and is taken more seriously by terry, neil, david and michael than we ever could've hoped for.<3
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everpresence · 10 days ago
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I’m scared I’ve been in this community for years and haven’t manifested a thing, what if I’ll never understand how to manifest or how to apply the law or if the law is real.
i normally don't answer questions where people vent to me about their circumstances, but i can't bring myself to delete this because i was in your shoes before.
i was putting so much effort into applying the law, i was reading so many books on the law, so many reddit posts, youtube videos. it was rough. i felt completely alone because i didn't know a lot of people that i could talk to about the law, and reading other people's success stories only made me feel worse. i know where you are coming from, anon.
the law is always working. i know it does not sound true right now, but i'm so serious. if i wasn't, then i wouldn't be running this blog in the first place. the law is always working, but people tend to forget this one key: you only get who you are, not what you want.
when you focus on lack, when you focus on trying too hard, when you focus on your doubts and your fears and your "what-ifs" and "buts," which method works, which method doesn't, validation that the law is working, how will it come, etc., then you will only ever see those things be translated to your thoughts, emotions, reactions, events, etc.
so yes, you did manifest. you did use the law, and yes it may be unintentional and you didn't mean to, but this is exactly what happened. you used the law, and you focused on struggle, you focused on not having manifested, you focused on the 3D being your source of validation. your 3D is feedback -- it's literally telling you that your focus should NOT be on this.
and i'm not saying this to blame you, anon, i'm saying this because the truth of the matter is that you are NOT an exception to the law. you ARE the law. i know it is a double-edged sword, but you have the choice to lean towards the side where you realize that this is actually a good thing. you have the free will to believe that you can take advantage of this ability that you have always had in you your whole life and use it for good.
you are meant to learn this truth. i promise you that this is not an accident, none of what i am saying to you is an accident. the 3D is feedback of your 4D, and here i am, giving you the feedback that you need to hear right now.
so here's what i want you to do:
stop seeking external validation. stop looking at success stories, stop looking for advice, stop seeking external guidance, stop all of it. i feel like you already know everything that you need to know. and more importantly, stop looking out at the outer world and believing that it is the final outcome. it's not. if you find yourself seeking it, stop it and tell yourself "i trust me. i trust the god-in-me. i know everything that i need to know already, so i can trust now." and this is where my second point comes in.
it's time to start trusting yourself, and not just your human self -- trust your divine self too. trust your higher self, inner self, god-in-you, universe, infinite intelligence whatever the hell you want to name it. you are not just your conscious mind, you are so much more than that. seth talks about this in his books. you are so incredible. your human mind is only one aspect of who you really are, and that is so amazing. you are infinity and beyond.
you are on your own journey. comparison is the thief of joy. stop focusing on other people and what they're doing. again, stop reading those success stories. delete social media if you have to.
if you need a break from the law, PLEASE take a break from it. you were never meant to struggle. you were never meant to try so hard. take that break and take care of yourself. do what you have to do to feel better, to feel good. it will be so worth it.
be kind to yourself. give yourself compassion because i have a hunch that you might not have been so kind to yourself about your journey. don't be so hard on yourself, again, you are on your own journey. if you mess up, it's not the end of the world. it's not permanent. you can always pick yourself back up.
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herblay · 4 months ago
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Cocktails I would make for class 1A (with Shinsou, minus Mineta bc I simply wouldn't, and with Monoma because I love him)
Sorry that's a particularly deranged concept, I mean this later in their teens/adulthood in that 8 year gap where they're putting up w Bakugou's begging them for money to make Deku a hero. Not when they're the baby age of like. 15. Don't drink kids. Idc really but like it's apparently not good for u. Then again what they went thru would drive me to drink even more. I was originally going to make all the cocktails in this post but I do not have all that liquor on hand and I don't love you guys enough to buy allat. (also psst I hate some of the cocktails on this list)
Iida: You may think the answer is nothing but I beg to fucking differ. He is a distinguished gentleman of society (cough cough rich bitch) and therefore I would make him a very classy Negroni. I personally do not care for vermouth and therefore am not super fond of them, but I feel like this is the level of distinguished cocktail suitable for Mr. President.
Yaoyorozu: No cocktail, a glass of dry white wine yes though. Probably a nice Sauv Blanc (my wine of choice). Classy, crisp, and wonderful. I originally had her as a red wine gal but I think a dry white suits better.
Todoroki: Dark n Stormy. This is one of my personal old standbys, and Todoroki seems like he'd be a rum guy. Ginger beer has the nice kick to it, and the layered effect jives with him. I think this is a great cocktail.
Midoriya: Tokyo Tea. Come on. Had to use Midori for his. It's only right. I actually don't really like this cocktail, it's too sweet for my tastes, but it's an incredibly sweet cocktail that packs one hell of a punch in bright green– tell me I'm wrong about this. I dare you.
Kirishima: I love him too much to give him a Bloody Mary. He'd have a Cosmo. Because much like that cocktail he was unfairly forgotten about by Horikoshi HORIKOSHI WHERE IS MY SON Infinitely fun to drink, fun to make, and always looks wonderful. Peak.
Kaminari: Carbonation is the name of the game. Kaminari seems like he'd enjoy something a little fizzy a little bubbly. And I thought about a Moscow Mule for him, but a limoncello spritz is the far better option. It's bright yellow, very summery, and very fun to drink (allegedly. Idk. I don't like sweet cocktails, as established. But I'm a good host and I think he'd like em.)
Mina: CLOVER CLUB BECAUSE IT'S PINK AND DELIGHTFUL (seriously if you make any cocktail in this list. It's a fucking delight. And it is pink and has a nice foam and a great touch of acidity. Perfect for Mina).
Sero: A Penicillin. Idk why. The vibe came to me and I think it's correct I just don't know why. It's smoky and gingery and is a great vibe for a rainy day. I like this for him.
Jirou: Espresso martini. I literally hate making these but it really suits her. They're also, much as it pains me to admit, a wonderful cocktail. But I made them once for my friends and now it's the request 24/7 and uh. Bestie they're not exactly a quick and easy drink to make. Anyway. She'd like one. I promise.
Satou: He's a sugar guy, so a piña colada would be right up his alley. Not a super quick drink to make if you're just making one, but a super easy drink to prep if you're making a batch of em, and rum is THE sugar liquor. Not a super fancy and sophisticated cocktail, but that's hardly a bad thing. It's friendly and accessible and always welcome (like his baking).
Shinsou: THE Corpse Reviver No. 2. I was saving this one for Aizawa but objectively this is correct. Absinthe rinse MANDATORY. I like using Cocci Americano Blanco instead of Lillet Blanc for this, but really both are great, I just balance out the Lillet's added sweetness with more lemon. But yes.
Monoma: Cocaine.
Tsuyu: Queens Park Swizzle. It's like a more whimsical mojito, it's light, refreshing, and literally impossible to dislike. Got a touch more depth than a mojito as well (which is fitting for Tsuyu, she's best girl, I love her dearly).
Ojirou: I am not gonna lie the extras are hard to nail down. He seems like I would give him a vodka cran and forget about him. (Even as an adult. Idk man I really don't care about him) (Sorry to the like. 2 Ojirou fans out there. I just. Do not get him very much)
Aoyama: I am NOT giving him a French 75. 1 because that's too easy and 2 because this boy is a Mai Tai if I ever saw one. Fruity and camp. And also because I made a sparkly Mai Tai (with a rim I set on fire) for my friend's birthday and I think that was the most Aoyama drink ever.
Koda: Okay so I think Koda would not be a big drinker but I would share my edibles with him. A weed gummy or two. We could make it work.
Shoji: Mezcal Paloma. Packs a punch but it's got more depth and nuance upon the second sip. Mezcal in general is a very Shoji spirit icl. Got that slightly intimidating front to it but has a lot of texture and depth beneath the surface. We love you Shoji <3
Tokoyami: I wanted to give him a Jungle Bird just because. Funny. But let's be real he's a Death in the Afternoon type of guy. And pssst here's a secret I fucking love that cocktail. Absinthe, champagne, and that's about it. The other option is the Necromancer, which is my actual favorite cocktail ever, but it's a touch too floral.
Hagakure: Capirinha. A mostly clear cocktail that genuinely is nearly impossible to screw up. Tastes lovely, is surprisingly distinct for a lime + liquor cocktail, and is an all around vibe on a hot summer day. Felt right for Hagakure, she's one of the lighter characters.
Uraraka: Tbh I'd just share a beer with her, she seems like the type to be down to chill with a beer and some bar snacks, but if ANYONE deserves the honor of getting a French 75, it's her. Friendly and bubbly, but packs one HELL of a punch. I love you Ochako. You deserved SO MUCH BETTER (I'm still so fucken distraught at what happened with her and Toga man. Her as a quirk counselor was the only good bit in the epilogue.)
All Might: is probably getting a glass of warm milk at the bar lbr but he seems like a Long Island Iced Tea type of guy (and that fits with Midoriya's in a very cute way now that I think about it. Damn. Didn't even do that on purpose but I'm happy abt it now).
Aizawa: Sazerac! The licorice notes are really strong in the ones I make, and an absinthe cocktail fits for him.
Bakugou: Is getting water. He would simply never do any drug and would probably freak at the concept of caffeine (I do not care about canon if it contradicts me) (He went to bed at 8pm as a teen that boy is probably never setting foot in a bar much less getting drunk bless him) (He has important things to do) (And money to save to finance his sugar baby I mean rival)
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atla-what-is-this-site · 2 months ago
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Fixing Voltron's magic system FT. Sanderson's Laws of Magic (and examples from various famous media)
Firstly, let's begin with what the Alteans canonically can do. As seen throughout the series, two alteans shown actually manipulate quintessence. Another has super strength but no magic. A final is shown to have none. (poor Coran). It is implied the majority (if not all,) have these abilities. 
Quintessence manipulation seems to have one small limit:  When Allura uses the magic too much, she passes out. But remember: shes powering a giant ship. We never see Team Voltron going and getting gas or whatever, which means Allura is probably the sole supplier of power for the Castle. Which is an example of how OP this ability is, even with the limit.
Then we have super strength and shapeshifting, two other abilities that all (or i guess most, since Coran never shows any signs of having them) Alteans seem to have. These abilities seem to have little plot importance besides a few certain episodes. There is nothing inherently wrong with these abilities. However, when you pile them on top of (if I'm being completely honest,) a character who's already quite over-powered, I think you can understand why I'm not the biggest fan. 
We know quite a bit about Alteans. They're one of the most important species in the series. According to Allura, they're super-ambassadors, and they use their shapeshifting to better blend in. Their culture seems very intellectual-based, with Alchemists holding high places. They mixed magic and tech to make incredible ships like The Castle. 
This is where things tend to taper off. We get brief glimpses of what could be rules: Allura always places her hands on whatever shes infusing. Clearly, you must be Altean or of Altean Heritage. 
Now, let's take a look at Brandon Sanderson's laws of magic. 
Number One: "An author’s ability to solve conflict with magic is DIRECTLY PROPORTIONAL to how well the reader understands said magic." 
This means that if we want to solve problems with magic, we need to explain how that magic can solve our problems. So, for example, Harry Potter. Every spell that Harry uses is explained beforehand so that the audience knows what he's doing. It just wouldn't work if Harry went around Lumos-ing away, making the reader guess what the spell does. 
However, in The Lord of The Rings, Gandalf doesn't need to tell us anything, because he barely ever uses his magic for plot important things. Readers don't want to read three paragraphs explaining how he made his fireworks, when the story isn't about his fireworks.
Number Two: Limitations are more important than power.
What your magic system can do doesn't make it interesting. There's no power that hasn't been thought of. Infinite power makes it impossible to come up with a plot. The character could solve anything, meaning there's no point in telling about the solution to their problem. However, when you throw in weaknesses, costs and other limitations, you get a much more original and interesting idea. 
Picture that one scene from Aladdin, where Genie tells Aladdin about the three rules. (No playing with free will, no raising the dead, no wishing for more wishes.) It's a simple and easy to follow system, with limitations that make the plot more interesting. Aladdin can't make Jasmine fall in love with him magically, so he's forced to come up with other ways. 
Rule Three: Expand what you already have before you add something new. 
This one leans more on general worldbuilding, but what he's saying here is don't shove new ideas in your reader's face. Don't create new magics out of nowhere. Build on what you already have. 
There aren't many examples of this, luckily Voltron isn't really guilty of this, so elaboration isn't really needed.
Now, we'll take these and begin perfecting the magic system. 
First, what is Quintessence? Quintessence is, essentially, the animating factor. It's what makes living things alive. It's a form of energy. 
This isn't to say nonliving objects can't have it, but most don't, unless it's given to them. 
Quintessence is energy. It can't be created, nor destroyed. However, you can transfer it from one container to another. 
There are a few things you can do with it. Firstly, giving a living being quintessence can make them stronger. This is what Haggar does with Zarkon throughout the first two seasons.
Next, taking too much quintessence from someone will "de-animate" them. A.k.a. They die from lack of life. 
There is one third thing you can do with quintessence. It takes a lot of training and a bit of energy. But I imagine you could also make these huge shockwaves that just fucken decimate everything in a 300 foot radius. However this is more after-we-get-ridiculously-good type material.
Our limits are these: 1. You must draw energy from something, whether that be your own energy or someone else's. If you use too much of your own, you could pass out and die. 2. You must maintain contact with whatever you're imbuing with energy/drawing energy from. (The only exception is the shockwave. But the shockwave comes from your hands so..?) 3. Too much quintessence can become an addiction. Specific examples can be Zarkon and Haggar. 
A little interjection: While Alteans have a lot of quintessence, it can only power a small ship for a few hours. However, Altean ships have evolved to collect quintessence from bacteria that gathers on the ship's metal. This keeps the ships sanitary and also helps with efficiency. As well, ships often use Balmera crystals as a secondary source of power. Balmera crystals hold high levels of residual quintessence.
We can construct so many different plotlines that can't be solved with quintessence, or the limits can prevent solution. What if the person who needs healing is out of Allura's reach? What if she doesn't have enough energy?
That wasn't so hard, was it, VLD team?
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justthemoonz · 4 months ago
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In Stars and Time Character analysis - Loop until you've Changed
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I haven't done a Character Analysis in a really long time, the last one that I did was for something relating Deltarune. But I really liked In Stars and Time and wanted to do a Character Analysis on one of my favorite characters from the game. Also known as "Loop" (I also made this analysis while in a DM with a friend, and I thought I'd share it here too).
This analysis will OBVIOUSLY have Spoilers for In Stars and Time so be warned of that... Anywho let's begin
First of all, this is mainly a few things I've gathered/noticed from my own playthrough, so it might not be FULLY correct (so feel free to correct me with anything about it, and I'll update it!!), I also will take into account the QnA for the game, but only a few specific things
Loop is a very interesting character, from start to end. But the thing that really made me wonder what Loop's deal was, was when they mentioned the "royal We" in my first conversation with them
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After this, Siffrin will reply with "That doesn't make ANY sense."
To which Loop replies with something similar like "Ah, right, I guess it doesn't."
After that...
Loop tells you to call them by "they/them"
If you already know the deal with Loop, you don't need me to explain what makes this interesting, but if you still don't fully know, Loop is Siffrin from "Start Again: A Prologue", or at least it's heavily implied
So why does Loop specifically want you to refer to them with "they/them", as opposed to just having the same gender as Siffrin (he/they)?
We already know from the QnA that Loop doesn't actually mind he/him to be used on them, but they want to be called they/them for distinction
But I feel like there's a lot more than that to it, and that involves Siffrin not being happy with themself
At some point in the game, you can interact with a book about body craft, talking about how Siffrin wouldn't mind changing their body if they had the time, but they will still use the "meat prison" they are currently in for a little while
Which made me think, if Loop is meant to be Siffrin, isn't Loop just... a version of Siffrin who has gone through self reflection on their own journey?
Something like "I might have suffered a lot, but I've discovered myself better in the process"
Maybe the turning into a star person thing has more meaning than just being a cool design choice, maybe it's because during Loop's own journey as Siffrin, they've "ascended". We also know that Loop has no actual idea how they look like, up until Siffrin draws them (if you do that interaction), so there's that too
Which also makes me think that the Silver Coin situation might also have a bit more symbolism to it, especially when it involves Loop
Sure, they're both Siffrin on the surface, one side of the same coin, but we know that's not at all true when we get to...
The dagger scene
I think this was the point for me where I realized that the Siffrin we play as completely hates themself, and wouldn't mind just ending their own life, if it means it gets the job done faster
While Loop very clearly is against the idea
But why? If Loop was Siffrin, why would they care? Wouldn't they agree on it? Because they also hate themself, just like Siffrin does?
No, Loop doesn't hate themself, at least not anymore, and instead hates the idea of someone that is basically them, before this entire journey, seeing their own body as "nothing but something disposable and useless"
The Loop secret fight is also a different can worms, the only real explanation I have for that is Loop doesn't mind being Loop while Siffrin is stuck in an infinite Loop, but the moment they break it fully, Loop would rather throw away their own existance in order to be someone they used to be, just for the sake of being with the ones that used to care about them in their own adventure
Forcing themself to be someone they aren't anymore
That's about it for this analysis, again I apologize if I've basically gotten EVERYTHING wrong and this doesn't actually make any sense... as I said I haven't done a character analysis in a long time, so I should have probably looked deeper into the whole thing, but this was, again, more of what I've personally gathered from my own experience of the game
I do hope you still enjoyed it, though!!
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stargazer-sims · 7 months ago
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Discoveries
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Félix tends to get absorbed in his work, but he's gotten much better at dividing his focus since Belle was born. He's been bringing her to Selvadorada since she was a baby, and as important as his work is, Belle is infinitely more important to him. No matter how intensely he's concentrating on the task at hand, he's always aware of where Belle is and what she's doing.
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As much as Belle loves learning and discovering new things, she is still a kid and she needs her play breaks. Fortunately, she’s really good at entertaining herself and she’s content to play on her own while Félix works.
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Félix: Are you all done playing?
Belle: Yes.
Félix: Would you like to help me with this?
Belle: Yes, please!
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Belle already has excavation experience. She knows she has to be careful so she doesn't accidentally damage any artifacts she might find.
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Even though Belle knows what she's doing, Félix still supervises her.
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Belle doesn't feel like she's being supervised, though. She likes to think of herself and Félix as colleagues when they're out in the field.
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Belle found something!
Félix: If this turns out to be a significant find, I'll include your name in the report.
Belle: Are you allowed to do that?
Félix: Yes, and it's only fair to give credit where it's due, don't you think?
Belle: But, will the university people be mad if they find out I'm only ten?
Félix: Of course not. The people who gave us the research funding know about you. I've had standing permission to bring you to the site for a long time now, and you've proved we can trust you to be responsible, so it's far less of an issue for them than it used to be. You wouldn't be here if that wasn't the case.
Belle: So... as far as they're concerned, I'm pretty much an archaeologist already?
Félix: Not exactly, but that doesn't mean your discoveries aren't worthy of acknowledgement. You may not have actual credentials yet, but you're doing such a good job, and I think we should make sure you get recognized for that.
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ace-reviews · 2 months ago
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Fall 2024 First Impressions Digest Part 2
Part 1 here.
Ranma 1/2: Hey, Mappa, cut out Happosai.
Puniru Is A Kawaii Slime: This show is going to be formative in nurturing the slime kinks of a bunch of young kids. Also, Puniru is the colors of the trans flag, uses a masculine pronoun (boku), and Kotaru keeps loudly insisting that she's "not a girl", but I'm sure none of that means anything. Anyway, it's a cute show but not my thing.
TsumaSho: I read a chapter or two of the manga this is adapted from a while back and completely forgot about it until checking the description of this anime to see if it could be interesting. It's not. I have very little patience for mothers being portrayed as perfect saintly beings at the best of times, and her being turned into a grade schooler gives it a layer of weird I really don't want to deal with. Ultimately, though, it's biggest problem is that it's boring. This premier dropped with two episodes and I didn't even make it through the first one.
Nina the Starry Bride: This one is also boring.
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*thousand yard stare*
Magilumiere Magical Girls INC.: It's a good show. Wish the uniforms looked different.
Orb: On the Movements of the Earth: If the universe expands infinitely in all directions, then wouldn't everywhere and nowhere be the center of the universe? Either way, this is one of those shows that's so good that I have nothing to say about it. I'm not much of a medievalist but I do like a well-made, talky cartoon that portrays Catholics like horror movie villains.
Haigakura: Holy inelegant exposition, Batman! A premier opening with a history lesson immediately followed by some character explaining the protagonist's motivation to him is generally a bad sign. And it certainly doesn't bode well for this premier, which is roughly 50% characters explaining things to each other that they already know for the benefit of the audience and 50% lame slapstick. Anyway, it's bad.
Yakuza Fiancé: Raise wa Tanin ga ii: I do not like this art style and never have. That's the only negative thing I have to say about this premier, however. This is trash, but it's fun trash. We love a man voiced by Akira Ishida who can beat a man into a crate of beer bottles and then make this face:
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he's like hakkai without the sister fucking
I might not stick with it all season (there are already a dozen other anime on my watchlist for this season and we're only halfway done with the premiers), but the way it delivers it's last-two-minutes-of-the-episode twist was chef's kiss.
You Are Ms. Servant: Do.... Do the people who decided on the English title not know that 'maid' is a common English word? They have to know, don't they? Maids are popular in anime and among anime fans why would they take the word 'maid' out of the title? That's so weird. I haven't even watched the episode yet and I can't concentrate on anything except how weird that is.
That aside (for now), this premier is worth checking out just for the OP & ED and their really extremely cool mix of really extremely cool visual styles. The actual episode is pretty good, too. Still, it is very weird that they translated 'meido' as 'servant' instead of, y'know, 'maid'.
A Terrified Teacher At Ghoul School!: This is another one I read a couple chapters of the manga of a little bit ago. It was cute. I mostly stopped reading it because it was on one of the official manga reading apps that's really bad (I think the Square Enix one that split one chapter into like 4 chapters and then limited you to only one 1/4 of a chapter per day).
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way to be motivational, sensei
Regardless, the anime is also cute. The pacing is a bit hectic, but it's a fun time. It also makes for an interesting double feature with Kimi wa Maid-sama since Maid-sama kept making me think of Mahoromatic and this one makes me think of GTO, which are both classic anime that are better than these (though they're both fine).
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icedragonlizard · 2 months ago
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How Max Haltmann, in ghost form, reacts to Susie's awful nightmare about him
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If you follow me, then you may know that I recently wrote a fanfiction of Susie having a terrifying nightmare about her father.
And like I established in the past, my verse's Max Haltmann didn't actually get fully erased from existence, as he actually has a ghost/soul in the afterlife. And in ghost/soul form, his memories came back, as he finally remembers Susie being his daughter again.
He pretty much just watches over her 24/7.
In the fic, when Susie discloses her nightmare to Taranza and Francisca (her two best friends), Haltmann in ghost form is right there listening the entire time... to her complete unknowing.
How does he react to learning about this astonishingly horrific nightmare that his daughter had about him?
.............
........ It obliterated him, emotionally speaking.
It caused him to cry.
He was devastated to hear it. His precious daughter had a nightmare about him where he came back to life and remembered her as his daughter again, but then he's livid about his death and vehemently hates her for it, and doesn't forgive her when she profusely apologizes, and then attempts to orchestrate her death in revenge because he's just so mad about having been killed?
... He was so utterly horrified. His poor daughter just had a nightmare about him being an unfathomably vile monster.
He wishes he could take that version of himself and give him the hardest punch in the face possible. He already wants to punch the version of himself that forgot about Susie being his daughter, but this nightmare version of himself was literally a hundred times worse!
In actuality, if he hypothetically came back to life, he wouldn't act like he did in the nightmare she just had. Not even remotely. He would never. All the things he did in her nightmare would be the absolute last things he would do!
He loves her. He's never been mad at her for causing his death and he'd never be angry with her about it in a hypothetical scenario where he came back to life. He doesn't hold it against her. He's literally never held it against her for a single second ever since he remembered her again in ghost form. He knows she was just trying to save him and accidentally screwed up, and so he wouldn't dare be mad about it.
In general, his ghost has been enormously guilt-stricken over everything that happened as he was looking back at it with his memories returned. He can never forgive himself for not recognizing Susie as his daughter when she returned from Another Dimension, among so many other things. He doesn't blame her for having some resentment for him, considering what happened between them.
.... He was so thankful that her two best friends were right there to comfort her after she had that atrocious nightmare. And it warmed his heart to see her being capable of smiling later on in the night because of them.
He's so grateful for Susie's friends, especially Taranza and Francisca.
He knew she already said it once before the nightmare, but when he watch her tell her two besties for the second time that they're her two favorite people and that she loves them way more than her dad, he wasn't mad at all. He doesn't blame her.
He doesn't blame her in the slightest for loving her best friends more than him. Heck, it's not even just them, as she also likes many of her other friends more than him too. He doesn't blame her there, either. He understands completely. He knows that he doesn't really deserve her.
It hurts, but he gets it. He really does.
It can't be overstated how much he appreciates Taranza and Francisca. He appreciates them so much for how well they've been treating Susie. They've been infinitely better to her than he was when she returned to him after that broken machine took her away from him. It warms his heart that those two have been such wonderful friends for her, and that she's capable of being happy because of them.
He wants his precious daughter to be happy. He doesn't want her to be alone and miserable. As upset as he is about everything that happened, he wouldn't want her to wallow about him forever. He'd want what's best for her. He wants her future to be better than her past. And it looks to be that way, and it's in no small part thanks to the friends she's made, especially her two closest friends.
He sometimes wishes that Morpho Knight was willing to bring people back to life, because if he had the chance, he'd go to Susie and tell her that he loves her, and that he's so incredibly sorry for everything that happened between him and her. But alas, such a thing is not possible. And while it does hurt, he accepts that it'll never happen.
He's fine with being dead, really. He's resigned to it. All he really wants now is just for his daughter to live on the best that she can. And for the most part, she seems to be doing so.
.... It's really unfortunate she had such a horrible nightmare about him this one time, though. And it just makes him feel so terrible. He can't forgive himself for hurting his daughter so bad that it's led to her having a dream like that. He was willing to sacrifice himself to get her back, only to hurt her so much afterwards and being the bad guy in a nightmare she has.
He's so sorry, Susie.
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allfortzu · 1 year ago
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to be lovers
-- nayeon / tzuyu. 1.24k, fluff ; birthdays. MEN DNI.
paris is lonely without a lover, nayeon is lonely without tzuyu.
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nayeon decides she'll spend her twenty-eighth birthday alone. 
"you sure you don't wanna do anything?" 
it's not even her birthday yet, but jihyo worries.
and while nayeon appreciates the sentiment of blowing candles and popping streamers at twelve – frankly, all she wants to do now is go home to tzuyu. 
"i'll be fine, really." 
she smiles in earnest, but they both know it's a lie, and they both know tzuyu won't be home waiting for her either. 
jihyo relents. 
"call me when you reach home. i'll drink two beers in your name!" 
nayeon waves her goodbye hastily. 
jihyo has sana to go home to, so she shouldn't be out late anyway. 
nayeon doesn't know if she could stand celebrating her birthday with two insufferable lovebirds either – or, even worse, insufferable lovebirds who get touchy when drunk. 
for the most part, sana and jihyo a cute couple; but now, they're a reminder of nayeon's own lover on the other side of the world. 
miles, countries, oceans away. 
so far that they would never see the sun or the stars at the same time. 
nayeon takes the scenic route home, a walk along the river. she hopes the sky is clear enough on tzuyu's side that she can see the faint glow of a morning moon, at least. 
her phone buzzes just as she thinks it – 
a baby blue heart beside a nickname only she knows, a profile with a picture she took of tzuyu herself. 
tzuyu
thinking about you 
maybe they're looking at the same moon, after all. 
nayeon
how did you know i was thinking about you too?
nayeon finds a bench, if only to properly savour the moment. she giggles when she sees the message again, and her heart both aches and flutters. 
tzuyu
i'm always thinking about you, but… 
maybe it's a girlfriend thing :)
nayeon doesn't stop the silly smile that spreads over her cheeks.  
nayeon
shouldn't you be at work now? 
tzuyu
i took a day off 
for a special occasion
;)
nayeon
oh?
considering the nature of tzuyu's job as a model, nayeon didn't know she could take days off so easily during fashion week. it's arguably the worst part of her birthdays.
but the effort remains – i’ll do all this for your birthday. 
nayeon
don’t they plan your schedules out months in advance?
tzuyu
i told them i was sick
which was definitely not planned 
cute, nayeon thinks, the edges of her lips tugging upwards. girlfriend things. 
nayeon
surely my tzuyu wouldn't lie
tzuyu
never!
i'm coughing as we speak 
cough 
and then i'll never have to work again and go to dumb fashion weeks on my girlfriend's birthday
the reminder makes nayeon pout. 
nayeon
you'll be home in a month right?
we can celebrate then
together :)
tzuyu
but i wanna celebrate with you today
the whole week actually 
i'll take a break and stay at home with you forever 
it's 11:50 pm now, and nayeon wishes tzuyu would stop giving her false hope. 
nayeon
you're making me miss you a lot
tzuyu
i miss you too…
call me?
i miss your voice 
nayeon doesn't waste any time making tzuyu wait. 
she picks up in one ring. 
"hey, lover," nayeon says, voice low. 
tzuyu giggles – this is what love sounds like, nayeon thinks. the sound of tzuyu laughing because of her. 
"i like it when you call me that."
tzuyu’s voice is muffled by an electronic hum, frequency altered, but it's infinitely better than nothing. 
"i know." 
nayeon folds her legs up and watches the moon's reflection in the water. it almost feels like tzuyu is beside her. 
"come home and i'll say it to you everyday." 
"hm, i might just come home right now.”
there's a shuffling of fabric, cloth brushing against cloth. tzuyu walking somewhere. 
nayeon is about to ask, but tzuyu asks first. 
"where are you? i hear wind." 
the night breeze grows, and the moon's reflection breaks from the gust. 
"outside, by the river." 
then, knowing tzuyu would worry: "i promise i'll go home soon." – but home feels empty without you.
there's more moving on tzuyu's end, footsteps on pavement and laboured breathing. nayeon wonders if she's busy, or if she's suddenly decided to take a brisk jog.
"are you outside, too?" 
"yeah," tzuyu breathes out. "i… remembered there's a river nearby here." 
nayeon laughs. "are we going to sit by the river together?" 
"exactly that."
and tzuyu laughs too, maybe because it sounds a little silly. 
so what if it is?
in nayeon's mind, tzuyu is running towards her. 
they’re watching the water together, the same water in front of nayeon that'll somehow make it's way to where tzuyu is. 
tzuyu will say happy birthday once it hits twelve.
she's never missed it.
“stay where you are.”
nayeon checks the time. 
"it's 11:58 now… you think you'll reach in time?" 
tzuyu's panting seems to slow. nayeon hears nothing but wind and water. the breeze calms, the waves lap gently. 
"well… i'm at a river. can you check if it's the right one?" 
nayeon let's out a snicker. "if it's all the way in europe, i think it's the wrong river." 
tzuyu doesn't reply, not yet. 
the moon's reflection stills, and nayeon can make out it’s full circle once again. 
silence hangs in the air, but everything is clear and bright. 
almost like tzuyu’s right next to her. 
"what if it's the one you're at?" 
nayeon hears it more clearly than she can imagine. 
the call has long ended, but tzuyu's voice rings without it. 
less than a country, less than an ocean. 
less than ten steps away. 
nayeon's legs move immediately.
five steps.
two…
one.
tzuyu.
and she hears her giggle, full and bright and clear.
"it's twelve now… i think i'm right on time?" 
nayeon holds her like she'd never left before. 
"happy birthday, lover." 
lover, all of their affections and fondness and love in a single word. 
"how– ?" 
"it’s a secret,” tzuyu hums, in the mischievious way she often does. “i told you i’d come back now, didn’t i?" 
something in between a sob and a whine slips out from nayeon's throat. 
she punches tzuyu's arm weakly, a barrage of scolding to ensue – "why didn't you tell me! i would've gone home! you didn't have to run here!" – but tzuyu only laughs and pulls her closer. 
nayeon let's herself be cuddled, even if she hasn’t quite grasped the reality of it. her hiccups stifle in tzuyu's chest, and her cheek presses against tzuyu’s heart.
"i meant it, you know," tzuyu whispers into her hair. "i'll take a break and spend it all with you." 
nayeon sniffles up the last of her tears. god, she’s missed this. 
"what about fashion week?" 
tzuyu kisses nayeon’s forehead. "fashion week could do with one less model.” tangible, there. “but i can’t do without you.” 
nayeon’s cheeks ache from smiling. “how long is this break?” 
“i’m all yours for as long as you want me here.” 
they’re so close that nayeon feels all her words, all her movement, right on her skin. 
the heat, the familiarity – her heart remembers it all. 
“and if i want you here forever?” 
oh, to have someone to hold in her arms. 
“as long as the birthday girl wants… ” 
tzuyu nuzzles her cheek. 
“... i’ll be here.”
oh, to go home to a lover.
nayeon holds tzuyu's face in her hands.
her lover in her hands.
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this was initially angsty... but i couldn't bear to post a sad birthday fic 😞 so i wrote a fluff version :) i apologise for the terrible formatting of the msging component.. how do i align text!&?! and i also apologise to all natzu fans for whatever this is! i really do just write words that do not make sense
happy late birthday to our nayeowon (we share a birthday!), and happy mooncake festival as well (how fitting of our resident bunny)! 🐰🥮🫶 thank you so much for reading <3
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samuelroukin · 4 months ago
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hi! not here in favor of you making Actual Books (i don't even read any of the newly published books anymore for reasons and reasons and reasons), just complimenting your work in general
i dont really care for cod at all but i really enjoy how you write the characters!! and tbh the only reason i watched some playthroughs of the games was so i could understand your work better. sure, fandom is the main reason people click in, but it's definitely not why they're staying. and it's not why people are writing paragraphs of praise to your stubborn ass even though you work so hard to never listen to any of it 💖
also id be enchanted to hear more about your ocs on future works or even here on tumblr!! you're great at creating made up people that actually feel real. they're pretty round (funnily enough that is the actual technical term), even when you don't tell us a lot about them
also 👀👀 say you have original stuff in mind?????? i would love love love love love to know more about that!! you're getting pretty darn good at worldbuilding and ambiance. better with each update now that you're trying out this AU thing. it would be infinitely interesting to see what you come up with when working with your own stuff only
anyway what i mean is. even though I don't quite believe in Published Books on this day and age, please know that your writing is definitely good enough for the editorial market (even more so now that those dark romance things are going mainstream and a lot of them read like the stuff 12yos post on wattpad. what tf is the deal with that? but I digress. out of those circles your work is still definitely good enough) it's legit like Good Work, even if the tiny mean bully whispering in your ear disagrees. it's good realism. good introspection. good porn and also good narrative and great junction of those. it's lovely seeing how far you've come in so little time and we're excited to see you reach new heights in the future (because you will, with absolute certainty, unless you stop. but i don't think you could really stop yourself at this point lmao)
and please know that achieving that level of quality with no help or instruction or training in so little time is a grand fucking accomplishment
point is: Who Care? We Care (even if we're not an enormous audience)(...yet?). and not just because it's cod
it's def a nice compliment to get thank u 🙏💖
and so is you reading my stuff without caring much for cod! though i wouldn't be able to write this much about them without (clearly) being completely insane about Them and the basis the games laid (haha laid) because without them i'd be nowhere at all, these characters are so. well they clearly took over my brain lol, though i worry a Lot about them being ooc when i write them 💀
i actually feel like my guys are so barebones and one dimensional rip, which is fine since i mostly created them as little more than a joke and they're just being used as set dressing, so that means a lot 🙏
my Main story is this sprawling urban fantasy thing, which if i ever did write it would need serious adjustments since it's. old and not aged very well. the gist of it was the main character (30 year old barista) has Visions, cue road trip with his bestie (ex bf from high school that he reconnected with years later) to figure out The Deal after they suddenly get much worse. it's about that on the surface, and below about dealing with missed chances and not living up to ur potential. it sounds stupid but i've been Thinking about it since i was like 14 so cringe is to be expected lol
lsklhkjhffghst yeah no offense to them but despite this fic being what it i i wouldn't really want to fall into that category even if that sound like i think i'm better than them (i'm not it's just not my thing. or i guess it is and i just have a superiority complex. anyway) um thank you once again 🥺i def feel like i haven't improved a lot but you're dead on about not being able to stop myself anyway lmao
idk why you're being this nice to me but 💖💖💖
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crossdressingdeath · 1 year ago
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This is the new line iirc. Gale was also quite abrupt. I hope his got changed as well
Oh, that is infinitely better. Looks like it at least hadn't been implemented when this picture was taken (I assume that's what the "IMPOSSIBLE" tag means), but knowing they intend to implement Shadowheart being much more reasonable about the fact that Durge couldn't tell anyone about the dark backstory they didn't remember helps a lot.
Honestly Gale's response—which for those who haven't seen it is "The tadpoles, the Absolute... it was because of you? I think you've said and done more than enough. Leave me be."—doesn't bother me. He's angry and upset. He feels betrayed by the reveal that his dear friend/lover was one of the instigators of this mess that could still destroy life in Faerûn as they know it and needs time to come to terms with it. That is... extremely fair. I take zero issue with the party being angry! I only had a problem with Shadowheart's original response because she was angry about Durge not telling the party their part in the whole thing when she knew full well they had no memory of it. It was the unfairness of Shadowheart blaming them for not telling the party about something they didn't remember that bothered me, not her anger. I'd actually be more annoyed if the party wasn't furious and betrayed about the reveal that Durge was Bhaal's Chosen and one of the instigators of the whole Absolute thing, because... yeah, of course they're not going to take it well. Who would? Rather than change the party's responses to be less negative, I'd like a followup after Durge rejects Bhaal where they... don't apologize, necessarily (I repeat, their anger is extremely valid), but acknowledge that Durge probably did have a reason for doing what they did before (just like how everyone else had reasons for the shitty things they did) and that whatever that reason was the person they are now clearly doesn't share it. Also I actually would like it if there were different greetings between the coronation and Durge rejecting Bhaal to reflect the tension in the group, although that would maybe be a bit much to ask given it wouldn't happen with any other player character. Basically my issue with the response to Durge having been Bhaal's Chosen now that Shadowheart's line is being altered is that the party has a little shout at you and then it's just... fine. This is not the sort of thing that's going to be fine after a single conversation! This is something that would seriously change the group dynamic, and while that might have been a lot to implement (especially since they were already being overworked) I would've at least liked a second discussion about it once Durge really committed to working against the Dead Three.
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