#as there is something i feel many have overlooked

[kurstyxscave]

"Huh... Azul-kun sure does have a lot more people around him lately. Guess I have to learn to share..."

(Ah! Im' so excited to finally post this. I love @quartztwst noyansim au so much! So many cute and cool yuusonas. One of my fav's has got to be @liyuviq)

Btw he modified his uniform to fit gyaruo More Info:::

Does Kursor have parents or family?

Yes, but he and his little brother, a first year, room together in the dorms.

What are their thoughts on Quartz?

"I like her hair. Oh wait- She's probably nice. Like the rest of Azul's fan club."

He likes to people watch during lunch, so he has seen her around. He thinks she looks kinda cool.

What is their thoughts and relationship with Azul? How did they meet Azul?

They met when he went to check out the board game club before signing up. They are on good terms, but Kursor doubts that Azul would call him a friend even though he feels that way. He really likes beating Azul in games and teasing them over it, mostly because he likes watching him get red in the face and get all competitive. Those feelings make Kursor assume he might have a crush on Azul.

What are their relationships with other characters/OCs?

"Idia? Oh he's cool I guess. We both like BeatCats, so its not that hard to talk to him."

Only really ever hangout or talk in the clubroom. They can be caught talking for long bouts of time over all kinds of dorky shit. Kursor is super into dorks, so he overlooks Idia's worst traits.

"T-Trey?! Who told you to ask me about him?"

Massive crush on him and shit at hiding it. He has the awful habit of staring and occasionally literally drooling over Trey.

"I like their cardigan... Maybe I should get one... Oh! I want to draw her!"

He gets too anxious to start conversations with any of them outside of compliments, small greetings, and basic etiquette. So he people watches and draws whomever he feels like. Though, he does get a little jealous of the other rivals. He likes being able to hang out with Azul whenever he wants and gets anxious over losing that.

What grade/year is he?

He's a 3rd year (18).

What is Kursor's goal for the school year or in life?

He hopes to make more friends, or maybe even a partner, during the school year. He kinda hates how much he struggles with that. He really hopes to be recognized more positively as a monster.

Kursor is being framed for murder of another student by Quartz, how does he react to that? Does he know it's Quartz?

He freaks the hell out, shifting into a werewolf in an attempt to escape wrongful imprisonment. He doesn't know it was Quartz specifically but his strong intuition keeps gnawing at him saying she did something. Unless if anyone else has antagonized him, he will keep thinking it was Quartz.

Kursor notices Quartz carrying a weapon in her skirt pocket. That's strange since the female school uniforms don't have skirt pockets. Does he report this?

He tries to report it anonymously. He doesn't want anyone to think he said anything. He will always keep his guard up around Quartz from then on.

Where is Kursor usually with or at during school? Classes? With Azul? Skipping class? Where do they eat lunch?

He can be found in the clubroom often. Between classes and lunch, he walks with his brother, stares at Trey, or very rarely trying to talk to Idia. Just as rarely, he attempts to ask Azul to eat with him one-on-one. Usually, he sits under a tree in the courtyard, eating and people watching.

How are his grades?

Kursor typically lucks his way into Bs. Cs at worst (he tries to study).

No Yandere Simulator ? (TWST AU)

AU Information:

This AU takes place similar to Yandere Sim but with Twisted Wonderland but Taro is Azul and Ayano is Quartz. Her goal is to eliminate… AZUL ASHENGROTTO. Yeah, her goal is actually to kill Azul and NOT the rivals. The rivals being your OCs/sonass and they have to protect Azul from Quartz and her dumb elimination plans.

More info on Quartz + Tweels info

Q&A for OCs!!! / PT 2

Flower Bullies info

Dormleader <- Student Council info + School info

This is an AU just for fun!! lol I just had a silly idea. Here’s a template if you wanna make your own oc into the AU (rival or not)

ALSO THEY DONT KNOW IT'S QUARTZ bc she's just a nobody girl

Bro you can tell I was hella lazy with Azul idk he’s too much

Rival List:

Romeo by @skrimpyskimpy

Shuu by @oya-oya-okay

Chiyo by @inotonline

Sable by @twsted-void

Jovie by @jovieinramshackle

Finn by @thehollowwriter

Elena by @angelwishess

Albert by @the-trinket-witch

Milo by @hy4c1nthh

Alice by @sinjaangels

Starrz by @astral-pr0jecti0n

Atlas by @silvery-stars-above

Mei by @ieatfriedeggs

Rubellite by @prefectrose

Yuuka by @hanizmiyu

NPC/Non-Rival List:

Elfie by @quartzelfgf

Higashikuramori Shin by @liyuviq

Jade Leech

Floyd Leech

Rizy by @rizdoodls

Yuuki by @theolivetree123

Joseph by @readsrandomstuff67

Yuubeni by @bunniehunn

Yuya by @cheerleaderman

Shuu and Silly by @sillybillymillyrilly

Superstar!! By @imafrealinrainbow478484

Viz (Vizzie) by @twistedwonderlandshenanigans

Yuhua by @distant-velleity

Nyx by @blackcat101

Gia by @ramshacklerumble

Yuuko by @silkkorchid

Moch by @thatsadguymochi

Faye by @faerieluvss

Yukana by @babyghoul138

Antoinette by @antoinettedoodles

AJ by @karamatsuboy-aj

Evelyuu by @h0neybane

Paloma and Hydris by @mhedusard

Levi by @the-trinket-witch

Alan by @alan-without-the-an

Vee and Viva by @evexe

Sophie by @gl00myb3arz

René by @tixdixl

Liánhuā by @lafashionlsta

Yuu Shi by @boopshoops

Xen by @xen-blank

Astrid by @cheerleaderman

Yumi by @marinahavik

Undine by @juchioris

Lilian by @sillyslipperybananapeel

Layla by @laylakongg

Niz by @hanizmiyu

The Yuris by @0ann3

Ryuuni by @rinis-reality

(Let me know if I made a mistake lol)

[elysianholly]

A Spuffy Fan's Perspective on the Reboot

So, as most Buffy fandom knows (unless they’ve been living under a rock in a crater on the Hellmouth), it was announced yesterday that SMG is involved in a Buffy reboot sequel series, one in which she will be a recurring but not central character.

As a lifelong Buffy fan, I’m expected to be overjoyed at this news, and I’m, well, not. Nor are a good number of people deeply entrenched in fandom. I’m super happy for the people who are excited. As a Spuffy fan, though, it’s hard to be jazzed for a number of reasons, among these being that SMG is most definitely a Bangel shipper, and despite being overwhelmingly more popular than Bangel in current times, Spuffy is often overlooked in a lot of key areas of the “official” Buffy promotions, the comics being a notable and welcome exception.

One thing I’ve noticed is a lot of people in Spuffy fandom are more than just “not normal” about Spuffy. I’ve struggled for 20+ years to both identify and articulate why the ship resonates with me so much to the point that news like this can make my anxiety spiral. I understand it’s not an ideal reaction media, but I have lived inside a neurodivergent brain my entire life and that ain’t about to change. And I’m not the only one—I’ve met and interacted with many, many people who feel as intensely as I do and also struggle to articulate why news like this distresses them.

So for everyone who is like me, slightly more than just “not normal” about Spuffy (or any aspect of Buffy!) and distressed about the news, here are some things I keep reminding myself.

Buffy is an Established Multi-Universe Property

We know that there are multiple universes in Buffy; it’s explored in The Wish and then confirmed by Anya later in the series. Not just multiple dimensions, but divergent/adjacent worlds to the one we saw in the show. This has been later explored in the comics, such as The Lost Summer, the Boom reboot, and The Last Vampire Slayer, never mind the plethora of authorized novels and the recent audio play. These were all officially sanctioned, licensed productions that exist outside the official canon.

All of these stories matter, regardless of whether or not they’re considered “official.” For my Spuffy people, some are Spuffy friendly and some are not. We acknowledge what we want to acknowledge and leave the rest behind. Me? If I find the sequel reboot upsetting, I’ll mentally shove it into one of those other worlds, the same as I’ve done with the comics for years (yes, even if they got Spuffy friendly).

One of the points that was brought up yesterday when I suggested just giving the sequel reboot the comics treatment was it’s harder to ignore if SMG is involved. And I get that; I felt the same way about the Slayers audioplay, because significant OG cast members were involved so it felt more official. But upon reflection, I do still think it’s the same as the comics, which were spearheaded and overseen by JW and still considered (until this sequel reboot happens) the official post-series canon. If the involvement of original artists is what makes or breaks something’s authority, then the medium shouldn’t really matter.

And on that note…

Star Wars Legends, Halloween, Terminator, & Other Reboots

For years—decades—following Return of the Jedi, the official Star Wars canon was continued in novels, the same as Buffy was. There was a rich tapestry of intergalactic politics, Leia and Han’s Force family, Luke and Mara Jade, and characters like Grand Admiral Thrawn that proved so popular he’s been recanonized.

These books existed and still exist. The new movies, the reset of canon, all things involving Rey Palpatine Skywalker and Kylo Ben Ren exist alongside established, official property. I know plenty of people who were upset that their investment in the extended Star Wars family was essentially nixed with the sequel series 10 years ago, and others who chose not to acknowledge the sequel series but maintain their post-Jedi canon.

In an era of reboots and sequel series, canon can become a bit diluted. You can’t just erase everything that came before you decided to hit the “start over” button. The recent Halloween trilogy flat-out ignored multiple movies to tell the story it wanted to tell. Terminator has done the same thing, multiple times, with the Sarah Connor Chronicles being officially licensed and more or less officially scrapped, and the last Terminator movie retconning like, what, four or five that came out after Judgment Day. That is to say, established canon doesn’t really matter in this era, because the people making these decisions are doing what fan artists have done for decades; keeping what they want, tossing all else aside, and focusing on the story they want to tell.

If what came before and what has been long established doesn’t matter (and I actually do love this; it opens up worlds and essentially gives us licensed what-if fics), then canon itself is kind of nebulous. It doesn’t matter what is or isn’t established, because established canon is a moving target, subject to personal interpretation. Don’t like the Halloween reboot? Ignore it. There are other movies out there. Don’t like the clusterfuck Disney has made of Star Wars? There is a fully developed alternative. Don’t like any of the options? Come up with your own. Comics do it all the time with superhero stories, and Buffy is nothing if not a superhero.

It’s All Fiction

This is what drives my husband crazy when I try to explain my beyond not normal feelings about Spuffy. It’s all fiction. We’re not talking about historical events here. All fiction lives in exactly one place, ultimately, and that’s between your ears. If you don’t like the way a fictional story went, you can do what fanartists have been doing for years and create your own fix-it. Or find a ready-made fix-it; I promise it exists. And the more I think about it, the less stock I put into “official” stories that are told primarily to make money. The people who are here telling these stories because they love the characters and know the characters on levels that frankly outperform most licensed stuff.

In Summary

So I’ve rambled a lot, but here are the key points to take away:

Buffy is canonically a multi-universe property so the world we’re shown by official licensed sources see isn’t the only one that exists. I didn’t say this in the section, but in this way, all fanfic is canon, because each exists in a different universe

If canon is not sacred in the world of reboots, then what they try to sell us as canon is debatable, negligible, and ultimately fine to just not acknowledge

Official canon doesn’t really matter all that much when you can pick your own, which you can and should

I hope this helps my fellow Spuffys and anyone else who is struggling with the news. My siblings in beyond just not normal. Your feelings, even if you have trouble explaining or understanding them, are valid. You’re not silly. It’s never silly to be upset about news that impacts something important to you. And there’s still so much we don’t know, so speculation abounds, but whatever comes of this, I hope you find some comfort in the freedom of being able to do exactly what the for-profit storytellers do all the time and just fucking ignore what doesn’t suit them.

In the meantime, Elysian Fields Archive will remain a Spuffy exclusive safe space, and I imagine will be home to a shitload of fix-its if the pilot gets picked up, so you’re free to join us there.

Until then, be good to yourself, and to somebody else.

[patchs-curiosity-corner]

𝑳𝒆𝒕 𝑴𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒍𝒑 𝒀𝒐𝒖 | 𝑺.𝑹. 

𝐀𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥 𝟏𝟓𝐭𝐡 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟕 - 𝑭𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝑩𝒍𝒖𝒔𝒉

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: A new member is added to the BAU soon after Reid’s kidnapping. She seems determined not to overlook him.

𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: angst, hurt/comfort, slight arguing, themes of drug addiction and self harm, referenced overdose, likely inaccurate depiction of drug addiction/withdrawal, Spencer and Reader being insecure.

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 2.5k

𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓’𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆: Fair warning this could be horrible. It’s part one of hopefully six total oneshots stemming from the concept of ‘5 times you help Spencer Reid heal, and one time he helps you.’ So, heart attack levels of cheese. Largely inspired by my righteous fury when no one helped Reid with his addiction. I will do a tag list for anyone interested in being alerted when part 2 comes out! Not proofread.

𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

You and Spencer Reid don’t get along.

Maybe that’s the wrong way to put it; it would be more accurate to say that he doesn’t get along with you. You were brought on a month ago, 36 days 4 hours and 27 minutes had passed since you had first walked into the bullpen and given him one more person to deal with. It didn’t help that you were sweet, gentle and understanding in a way seemed to grate on his already frayed nerves. You’re 22, but only recently, recently enough to have just barely squeaked out the title of “youngest member to join the BAU” that had previously belonged to him. It’s a childish record, he’s a 25 year old man, and it shouldn’t affect him much less upset him, but it does. 

Your presence feels like a personal insult. Your arrival so soon after his kidnapping churns his stomach, makes him wonder if the team is questioning his capabilities as a profiler. Why else would they need to suddenly hire an extra person? Not-so-deep down he knows that logically, it probably had to do with the recent increase in the units budget. Nothing to do with him, but rather Hotch taking advantage of the opportunity to have another pair of boots on the ground during cases. None of that matters though, because Spencer doesn’t feel very logical right now.

He’s found more little ways to justify his distaste for you in the weeks since your arrival. The way you always seem to smile and nod along with his ramblings, despite the fact they’re not directed at you. You must be mocking him, he concludes, secretly patronizing him for his inability to shut up. Or the way you look at him after learning about his recent… ordeal with Tobias Hankel, the gentle sympathy in your eyes he willingly misinterprets as pity. He hates being pitied. He hates being patronized. He hates the analytical way you always seem to look at him, and he almost immediately convinces himself that above all: he hates you.

———

Something’s up with Reid.

You’d noticed it from day one, but it had been easy to disregard as growing pains. After all, with Emily having only joined months before you, you were sure there was going to be a bit of an adjustment period, especially when the sting of losing one of their previous teammates was still so fresh. You’d heard so many good things about Elle from everyone, and you’d be lying if it didn’t make you feel even a little bit insecure as the greenest among them.

It takes about a week for you to realize there’s something more to his behavior than awkward aloofness. The way he wears long sleeves even as the cool air of spring grows warmer, the near-constant twitch in his brow, and especially the way he seems to constantly fidget with those aforementioned sleeves, scratching nervously at his inner elbow. Even just the way his wiry fingers tighten around the strap of his bag, you can’t shake it.

Something is terribly wrong.

You try to remain casual, asking after him when he disappears into the bathroom for a touch too long, or when he takes a sick day that even as the newbie you know is out of character. Innocuous little questions like: “Is Reid alright?” or “Does he seem paler lately?” that gleaned no real answer from any of their teammates. It made you furious. Spencer was a part of their team, part of their family, regardless of his icy attitude towards you. So why wouldn’t any of them help him?

You watch him deteriorate over time, in the 36 days you’d spent on the team you’d been silently festering, mentally begging someone to do something, anything for Reid. Help him! your eyes beg Morgan, Hotch, Gideon, JJ, anyone. He’s going to die like this…

…but no one does, and enough is enough.

———

Spencer can’t eat, he can’t sleep either. Whenever he tries to his mind is filled with the memory of the horrible night he spent with Hankel, his crystal clear eidetic memory forcing him to relive that torture again and again the moment he closes his eyes. He knows there must be dark circles under his eyes, that his cheeks are likely sunken and pale, eyes rimmed red from lack of sleep. He’s certain the others must have noticed, there’s no way they couldn’t. But he tries to convince himself they haven’t, because if they had and no one had checked on him? …He doesn’t want to consider that reality.

The soft rapping of knuckles against his door stirs him out of his sleepless daze. It’s late, late enough that no one in their right mind would be awake right now, much less knocking on his door. In his drained state he heaves himself off the couch, plodding with weighted feet over to the door of his apartment. He doesn’t bother to check the peephole, if he did maybe he wouldn’t have been so startled by who he sees upon pulling open the door.

You.

A travel bag slung over your shoulder and a determined look set on your features. You both just stand there for a moment, until your voice breaks the silence.

“Hi.” It’s just one word, but it tugs at something inside him he can’t quite name.

“Hey.” He croaks back apathetically, or at least he tries to. Before he can say anything else or even question what you’re doing you push past him into his apartment, tossing your bag onto his kitchen island. “What the hell-“ Is all he manages to get out, irritation swelling in his chest as he scowls at your form, looking at him with arms crossed, fingers picking at the frayed edges of your sweater.

And just like that it’s quiet again. It’s his voice that breaks the silence this time, quiet and tired: “What are you doing here?”

“Make sure you don’t die, hopefully.” you murmur, your own voice cracked by anxiety and a frail attempt at humor. “Where are they?” That makes his jaw tighten, you both know what you’re talking about, and it causes long-suppressed frustration to boil up in his chest.

“You have no right to be here. You- you have no right to look through my things.” The words are gritted out through teeth clenched so tight you worry they may crack. It’s painful, watching him fight so hard against the help you’re trying to offer.

“Look, Spencer” you sigh, unable to hide the pained expression of your own face, “Hotch knows. I talked to him about it.” You brace for something, anything. Maybe shouting, you seriously doubted Reid would ever consider laying a hand on you but… drugs did funny things to those you would have thought you knew. “S-so you either let me help you, or I’ll be forced to report your current addiction to Strauss.” Your voice had wavered at the beginning, but the more you spoke the more conviction bled into your voice. Soon all the pent up anxiety and worry for your brilliant coworker was pushing you forward, fueling your words. “I won’t stand by Spencer, because if you keep going like this it’s not a matter of if but when it kills you, and that is the last thing I would ever want because you are too damn good for that.”

Reid glares at you, every ounce of misplaced anger in his system directed at you alone in a gaze far more furious than you or anyone thought him capable of. Then his shoulders slump, and that tired, worn appearance returns. He could deny it, claim you had no proof, but with no energy left in his tired, broken body- He didn’t have it in him to lie. When Spencer finally speaks it’s quiet, and reluctant.

“In the bathroom,” his voice croaks, “Inside the medicine cabinet.”

He would have expected you to immediately go there, to play the role of drill sergeant for his sudden makeshift rehab, but you don’t. Instead your own shoulders sag, and in a number of slow steps you cross the room to where he stands, wrapping your arms tightly around his middle. Spencer goes stiff at first, unable to process the sudden display of affection, why this girl seems to care so much about him when he’d been nothing but distant to her at best. After everything he’s been through though -even with his germaphobia- it’s impossible not to relax into the embrace, his own slender arms wrapping around you in return. It’s nice to be held again, he thinks.

“This is going to be awful.” You mumble against his chest, “A week and a half, that’s all Hotch could give us. Far as anyone’s concerned I had a family emergency and you’re on a mandated sabbatical.” It takes him a minute or so to process her words, stuck in the haze of affection after going to long without.

“…what are you talking about?” Reid asks, his voice is quiet. He can’t understand why you care so much, he just needs you to go away now, before he gets addicted to your presence as well. Before something happened to you and you left; like his Mother, like Elle.

“Getting you clean.” You say hesitantly, finally pulling away from him after what felt like a peaceful eternity. “Under normal circumstances quitting outright is a terrible idea, but-“ you swallow thickly- “you’re a federal agent, so there’s a clock ticking.”

“And your plan is…?” Spencer sighs, running a heavy hand through his hair and down his face. He tries to ignore the feeling that lingers, the ghost of you in his arms.

“Stay with you through the inevitable withdrawals, I hope.” The words are tentative, not as confidant as before while you pick nervously at the sleeve of your sweater. “The first thing I have to do is get rid of all the Dilaudid in this apartment.”

His body goes rigid again, this time with the flash of panic that goes through him at your words. Hands clenching and jaw tightening, the thought of losing the thing he’d come to rely on so desperately makes him terrified. Part of Spencer wants to say ‘no,’ to stop you- beg you not to let what gave him peace drain away… But he just can’t muster the energy, forced to watch in dejected silence as you conduct a thorough search of his apartment for the offending drug -his only comfort and companion in these past two months- and dispose of it, all in a few moments. Gone.

Once you’re finished, you settle yourself on his warm, comfortable couch, letting out a quiet sigh as you wave him closer. “C’mere.”

Reid lets himself be touched for the second time that night, accepting your offer and laying his head on your lap. He’s quickly hit with a hazy feeling as your fingers slide into his hair, playing gently with the chocolate strands and scratching lightly at his scalp.

“Are you angry with me?” You ask softly after a moment, concerned by the silent treatment he was currently giving you. Again he can’t lie to you, even compared to the unwillingness to admit his fear and anger. In an act of petty rebellion he refuses to look at you when he answers.

“…yes.”

“That’s alright.” He hears you reply, as soft and gentle as everything else you had been so far. “You can be angry, Spence.”

“Why are you even here?” He bites back, a storm of emotions behind his eyes as he finally looks up at your face: anger, sadness, confusion, fear. The brilliant ‘boy-genius’ reduced to an absolute mess.Your answer is just as easily spoken and simple as before: 

“Because I care about you.” Those five words ring in his head even as you continue. “Because despite how we started out you are an incredibly genuine person, Spencer, and probably one of the most brilliant minds I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.” Spencer shakes his head, for once lost for words. Why were you here, being so nice to him? Why did you even care in the first place when he had been so cold and hostile to you over the past month. 

“I don’t- you shouldn’t care.” He spits out, turning away from her. The action feels petulant.

“But I do.” You say a hint of amusement in your voice despite the circumstances. “And you can’t stop me from caring.”His face feels hot, and his jaw clenches again as he rolls back over to hide his face in your stomach. Reid mumbles in a voice almost too low to hear: 

“You’re frustrating.” It makes you laugh.

“Don’t worry Reid,” you say through your laughter, “the feeling is definitely mutual.”

———

The next week is just as brutal as you had both been expecting.

Spencer didn’t know what he expected drug withdrawal to be like. He’d read plenty of textbooks sure but they did nothing to prepare him for a firsthand experience. The only way he can think of to describe it is pure, unadulterated misery. His body struggles without consistent doses of Dilaudid to keep him going, it’s evident he had become much more dependent than he realized in a short amount of time. He can’t eat, he feels violently sick. Too hot one moment and freezing the next with his emotions following much the same kind of roller coaster.

You stay through all of it, keeping him comforted during panic attacks and soothing his fevers with a cool washcloth as you try to get him to drink just a little more water, even if it may come back up minutes later. You’re tired, exhausted even, and yet you won’t leave Spencer’s side for more than a second. It’s easy to endure the moments of anger he has, shouting and cruel words flung in your direction are hardly any price at all if it means he might recover faster. He doesn’t understand how you take it, all the snapping, screaming and crying. Reid takes out every anxiety and fear he has on you, and still you remain in the end, ready to let him fall into your arms again and cry like a child.

He feels guilty, ashamed even in this state. An overwhelming feeling of helplessness weighs heavy on his heart, but little by little, things do get better, even if he doesn’t notice at first.

It must be the 8th day of this hell when he realizes that slowly, far too gradually for him to notice: things have returned to something oddly adjacent to normal. Sitting at his kitchen table with a cup of warm honey tea in his hands, watching you hum along to the radio while you prepare breakfast… Spencer almost feels human again. Things weren’t perfect by any means, his hands still trembled, the ghosts left behind by the worst of it all still tugged at his mind, a familiar voice begging him for just one more hit. But the voice is tiny now, easier to ignore. It was strangely peaceful, in fact, the way he could sit at this table and observe the domestic scene of you cooking breakfast in his kitchen. His chest warms pleasantly, and for what feels like the first time in years:

Spencer can finally breathe.

[cece693]

mano mažylė Pt. 2

pairing: platonic! hannibal lecter x gender neutral reader tags: leaving was the best choice, hannibal unable to handle feelings, chiron is over his drama, dead abigail, part 3 coming soon

Distance makes the heart grow fonder—a sentiment you didn’t share one bit.

When you left home with nothing but a bag of clothes and some money, a hint of regret settled in your bones, heavy and unwelcome. The image of your last act before leaving—the angry, desperate scrawl of I HATE YOU on the mirror—lingered in your mind. How could you have left Hannibal with nothing more than those words? How could you have reduced everything he had done for you—the home he provided, the security, the life most would envy—to that final, hateful declaration?

But then, as you sat on a train heading to nowhere in particular, watching the world blur past the window, you realized it really didn’t matter.

Hannibal wouldn’t miss you. He wouldn’t sit in the silence of that house and long for your return. No, if anything, he was probably relieved. Now that you were gone, he could fully embrace his twisted vision of fatherhood with Abigail. The unwanted thing had finally removed itself from the picture, leaving space for someone more deserving.

The thought hurt more than it should have, but it also encouraged you to keep wedging distance between you and Hannibal. Perhaps you had been a burden, but maybe—just maybe—this could be the first time you made him proud. The first time he would be thankful for something you did. And that was enough. Enough for you to settle back into the stiff train seat, exhale softly, and close your eyes.

In the months following your escape, you found a modest studio apartment with creaking floors and a single window overlooking a busy street. It was cramped, but it was yours. The landlord didn’t ask too many questions, and the rent was low enough that you could afford it by working at a local bookshop. Between the dusty shelves, the soft hum of customers chatting, and the friendly banter with your new coworkers, you slowly built a life that felt…normal.

But that comfort was disrupted soon enough. It was late on a cold Wednesday night. You had just finished closing the shop, the last customer having left half an hour prior. The street outside was nearly empty, save for a few cars idling at the traffic light. As you clicked off the lights and locked the door behind you, your breath plumed in the crisp air.

That’s when you saw her.

A woman stepped out from the shadows beneath a flickering streetlamp. She wore a long, tailored coat that looked far too expensive for this part of town. Her hair was meticulously styled, and there was an air of quiet confidence about her posture. She stopped a few paces from you, lifting her chin in greeting.

“Excuse me,” she said softly. “I’m looking for—” She spoke your name.

Instantly, your stomach dropped. The key in your hand felt suddenly heavy. You glanced around, but there was no one else on the sidewalk. “Who wants to know?” you asked, forcing your voice to remain calm.

She offered a polite, practiced smile. “My name is Chiron. I’ve been sent by Dr. Lecter. I’m sure you can guess as to why.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. Of course you could guess why. Chiron took a step closer, holding out her hands as if to show she meant no harm. “He wants you to come home,” she said gently. “He’s worried, and—”

“Worried?” You barked a laugh that sounded more bitter than amused. “You’re joking, right? Hannibal Lecter doesn’t do worried.”

She seemed unfazed by your scorn. “He cares about you more than you know. He…regrets things. He wants to make amends.”

“Amends,” you repeated. “Let me guess: he wants to show me how sorry he is by offering me a nice meal, maybe a glass of wine, and some carefully chosen words about ‘family.’” You swallowed, the taste of your own sarcasm nearly choking you. “I’m not interested.”

Chiron exhaled slowly. She reached into her coat pocket and produced a sealed envelope, dark red wax pressed into an elaborate seal. “He asked me to give you this. Please read it. If you don’t believe me, see for yourself how he feels.”

Your gaze shifted to the envelope, but you made no move to take it. “Burn it,” you said coldly. “I left for a reason. That hasn’t changed.”

“Listen,” she pressed, her voice taking on a more urgent tone, “I know you’re angry—”

“Angry?” you cut in, clenching your jaw. “Oh, I’m beyond angry. I gave him years of my life, hoping he’d see me as anything more than an accessory. And the one time I needed him to notice—” You stopped, your breath trembling, memories flashing of Abigail being hugged so tenderly by Hannibal. “He chose someone else. So yeah, angry doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Chiron’s expression softened. “He wasn’t trying to replace you. Abigail was...complicated. She needed help—”

“So did I,” you snapped. “And guess whose help I didn’t get?”

Silence stretched between you, weighted with everything you left unsaid. Finally, Chiron stepped back, slipping the envelope into your coat pocket anyway. You glared, but she ignored it, her tone quiet and careful. “He’s hurting in your absence. He thought he was protecting you.”

“Protecting me,” you repeated, voice dripping with sarcasm. You shook your head and turned on your heel. “Tell him I don’t care what he feels. I’m not going back.” You walked off, not bothering to watch as Chiron remained behind, the glow of the streetlight flickering over her motionless figure. By the time you glanced over your shoulder, she was gone—as if she’d been nothing but a phantom in the night.

Far away, in that house you once called home, Hannibal Lecter was unraveling.

When you first left, he tried to maintain his usual routine. He prepared elaborate meals for carefully chosen guests, kept his appointments, and played the perfect host. But the silence in his home weighed heavily, like an echo that wouldn’t fade. You were missing. The one variable he had never intended to lose.

Abigail Hobbs was still there, at first. The girl who had unknowingly stirred the pot of jealousy. She tried to tiptoe around Hannibal, sensing his growing agitation. One evening, she found him sitting at the dining table, staring at a stack of your drawings—yes, the ones you thought he’d thrown away. His fingers traced the edges of the paper with a tenderness she had never witnessed before.

“Dr. Lecter?” she said quietly, stepping forward.

He lifted his gaze, dark eyes filled with something close to sorrow—but also a mounting fury. “Do you know,” he said, almost conversationally, “that these were drawn when they were four? And yet, you could see the hope in every stroke, every color they chose.”

Abigail swallowed. “I didn’t mean to come between you and—”

“Didn’t you?” He rose slowly, placing the drawings down with precise care. “I saw the way they looked at me after you arrived. As though I’d betrayed them. Perhaps I did.”

“I didn’t ask for your attention. I was just—”

“You existed,” Hannibal finished, his voice low and dangerous. “You came into my home, accepted my care. Took something that wasn’t yours to take.”

Abigail’s eyes widened, realizing too late the shift in his demeanor—a predator uncoiling. “Please, Dr. Lecter, I never wanted—”

Her words were cut off by the abrupt movement of Hannibal’s hand. He struck her with a force that sent her stumbling back. Dazed, she tried to stand, tried to speak, but Hannibal was already upon her, calm and methodical.

“This is not your fault,” he murmured, voice eerily gentle as he pinned her to the table. “But you are the catalyst. And for that, I cannot forgive you.”

In the final moments, Abigail tried to plead, to find some spark of mercy in his eyes. She found none. Hannibal dispatched her with the same detached elegance he reserved for his darkest practices. The dining room was silent save for his steady breathing. When it was done, he stood there, gaze flicking to the scattered drawings that had fallen from the table in the struggle. A few were stained now, the colors warped by splatters of red. He picked one up, turning it over in his hands.

It was a child’s drawing of the two of you, hand in hand.

[electricneonvalkyrie]

I hesitated to throw my opinion into the ring, so I figured I'd sleep on it.

I woke up, and it still stung.

Take it with a grain of salt. I’m not a casting director. I understand it would be a serious challenge to find a performer with acting chops and a matching appearance. But I've always thrived on challenges, so this argument seems flimsy.

Honestly, what do I know about Hollywood?

Many talented people globally never realize their dreams due to systemic barriers; however, it seems unbelievable that the team didn't consider maybe… stepping into a gym.  

The daily grind of PTSD is a heavy weight for me to carry, and as a muscular woman who doesn’t fit the traditional perception of femininity, losing a rare representation in media breaks my heart.

I understand it was a narrative-necessity in the game—though many (overwhelmingly male) gamers tried in bad faith to cast doubts on this.

Yes, it’s realistic for a woman to have a muscular build.

Have you gone to a gym in the last twenty years?

Hi female athletes everywhere. Hi CrossFit competitors. What’s up bodybuilders? Hey women in the military who can bang out more push-ups than the average male.

I see you.

But historically, when adaptations change the appearance of female characters in storytelling, it’s often catering to the male gaze, unintentional as it may be.

Read: Sarcasm.

In my opinion, it’s no coincidence that this has happened here.

No one should subject the actress portraying Abby to this criticism; it’s quite literally not her fault. This is an awkward role to take on, especially given the game's incredibly toxic past. But seeing Abby Anderson depicted this way feels like a gut punch.

Her strength—something that many real life women work damn hard for—is being erased.

Reducing her size feels like perpetuating the idea that women can only be strong if they’re still petite and conventionally attractive.

HBO seems to be overlooking what made Abby so special to loyal fans like me: the compelling interplay of her intense self-discipline, the lingering impact of her trauma, and the raw emotion of her grief which manifested in her merciless fights and her struggle with inner demons.

They had an opportunity to stand behind the integrity of Abby’s design and they’ve rewritten her character.

Let’s call it what it is. Disappointing as hell, at a first glance.

I have no doubt the actress playing Abby will shatter expectations, revealing her character's resilience in a brutal world, because otherwise, she’s not Abby Anderson. She's a gentler, more nuanced version of the fierce character Neil Druckmann once spearheaded.

He wouldn’t backpedal, would he?

For all the gamers who never got the chance to kill Abby in The Last of Us Part II, it feels like HBO has done it for them—not with a battle, but with erasure. Not with brutality, but with a quiet, deliberate softening of everything she stood for.

Fuck, I hope I'm wrong.

[nabi-unveiled]

When Dialogue Misses the Mark

Perfect 10 Liners, we ran into a bit of a problem today. You see - I ADORE the Yotha/Gun storyline. Seriously. I didn't enjoy Arc/Arm at all and had largely wrote off this show, but Yotha/Gun brought me back. I've greatly enjoyed watching this black brooder and his crying sunshine navigate their traumas and find comfort in each other.

But your dialogue missed the mark for me today.

I didn't understand how Klao not fighting back met Warich's demands.

It felt like I was missing something in that exchange, but I didn't really care so much. I have ugly thoughts about Warich anyways.

I side-eyed this line A LOT.

Telling a sunshine character that tries to hide his pain behind a smile not to cry? I don't like it one bit. Let the man feel. This situation was scary. But I at least understood the intention, and the rest of the scene was solid. Yotha isn't really saying to hide the pain. He doesn't want Gun to be sad at all, and he's trying to calm him down.

But that brings us to the rest of the episode.

We KNOW Yotha cares about Gun. We know he's commited. But does Gun? He hopes. He wants to believe it. But Yotha has left Gun on read too many times for him to feel fully confident in this relationship yet, and that's not counting the remaining doubts about Wa. Sure Gun's hopeful, but he's also unsure and insecure.

Gun asks for reassurance in why Yotha loves him. Yotha gives a non-answer.

Gun calls him out. Yotha gives another NON-ANSWER that basically reinforces that idea that he needs to be happy and is only valued for being cute. We know what he means, but this isn't valid reassurance for Gun.

Then we got to "the scene". The shots were solid, and the chemistry was on point. But the dialogue left me depressed. I LIKE Yotha. I KNOW Yotha cares about Gun. I BELIEVE they are good for one another. I still wanted to whisk Gun away.

Yotha asks if they can go further. Gun defers saying they're not a couple.

The feelings were there. We had good, solid build up to reach this point. But you can see that Gun is immediately spiraling thinking that Yotha is pulling back because he didn't enthusiastically agree to go further.

Yotha asks for them to be a couple. I KNOW this was supposed to be a squee-inducing moment. But it really didn't feel that way to me. "We can't have sex unless we're a couple? Fine, we're a couple. Happy now?" This dialogue. Woof. It cheapened Yotha's feelings SO MUCH.

Then we reach the dubcon. Now I can generally overlook and even enjoy dubcon with many characters/situations. As long as they're not asleep, the character can typically push back or cave in and the narrative continues. There are often kinks or other factors in play. I'll generally allow it. It's dramaland and not real life after all.

But it's not Gun's nature to push back against Yotha and power dynamics ARE in play. To be frank, he CAN'T push back against Yotha. Yotha even acknowledged the power imbalance earlier in the episode. Gun isn't Rain from LITA with an obvious "no kink". When he said "I don't know", it's because he's still genuinely unsure about where this relationship stands.

He's not playing coy. He's not a brat (generally). Gun's been on an emotional roller coaster, and he hasn't exited the platform yet. HE'S NOT READY. But good puppies obey their owners even when it's something they don't want to do. And that just makes me sad.

Thanks to the dialogue, this whole scene disappointed me. It was nicely filmed. The actors did great. But the writers needed to do better by these characters.

So, I'll go backwards and remain here.

Yotha shielding Gun, and this mutual "are you hurt?" moment. Now that was dialogue worth watching.

[lolitastories]

Notice

Rafe Cameron

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

“Detective?” I turn my head and see Julie walking up towards me. “They gave her some medicine to calm her nerves. EMT said her levels were stable.” I let out a sigh, feeling calmer with her words.

“Good. I’ll see you back at the station.” She nods, turning around to get into her car. I open my door but before getting in I take in the scene. 10 minutes ago the whole place was blazing with sirens but they left when they took the victim to the hospital. The lights of the officer are still on as they clean up the place before leaving. A few feet from me an old shack, a shack where the fisherman kept Acosta. It had been a long couple of days. After getting back to the station we had no choice but to let the man go. He apparently had nothing to say and the warrant of his house gave us nothing. I decided to follow him since he left the station and on the second night he slipped away to an abandoned shack. It wasn’t even a minute later that I saw Acosta through the window and I called for backup. It was something that I loved about this job, the feeling of finishing something horrible. Although it would be best for them not to start, it felt nice knowing I can be one of the people who helps.

“Wait!” My head flinches to my right seeing Jon rushing over to me. “Sergeant got a call,” He falls forward resting his hands on his knees. “Drugs all over the scene.” I contain my laugh seeing how out of shape he was.

“You good?” He lifts his head with an annoyed expression.

“I texted you the address, I thought you would want to take care of this one.” I pull out my phone and check the address. I don’t recognize it.

“Drugs are your department,” I put it on my gps before turning my attention back to Jon. “We don’t have much of those, probably why you are so out of shape.” I crossed my arms standing proudly as he finally straightened up.

“Trust me you are going to want this,” The smile instantly fell seeing how he wasn’t humored by my comment. “Rafe was there.” What the fuck was Rafe doing there? I felt my stomach drop and I hurried to get into my car.

“I win!” I roll my eyes, setting my car on drive and pressing the gas. It was currently 9pm as I raced through the roads. The salty wind going through my hair as I start to imagine the worst possibilities. What happened that involved so many drugs? What was Rafe doing there? The past couple of days I hadn’t been able to talk to him due to me stalking the fisherman but what could have happened to get him involved in such a thing in less than 48 hours? I stretch my fingers from my steering wheel, letting go of the tight hold I had. Stressing until I get some details won’t help.

“What happened?” I rushed over to the Sergeant as he was overlooking the team packing up the evidence. One by one you can see them carrying packages of what it looks like to be cocaine. The shady trailer was apart from the rest of the lot. The outside was trashed and surrounded by an unkempt lawn.

“That's what I want you to figure out.”  his eyes still lasered focused on each package moving into one of our vans. “Rafe is not telling us anything, but he keeps on mentioning a Barry guy.” My head turns to see the trailer's door propped open. It was like a dark tunnel with a faint light coming from inside. “Figure out what you can and if he still decides to keep his mouth shut take him in for questioning,” Fucking hell. I can’t tell you how nauseous that made me feel. “We have enough here to keep him locked up until he decides to speak.” No matter how buddy buddy Rafe was with him, he didn’t look left to things involving crimes.

“Alright.” As I turned my step towards the trailer I focused on only one thing, the crime. “Where is he?” I speak to an officer standing by the door.

“The first room to the right.”

“Thanks.” I dryly say making my way around the people in the trailer. I pushed open the door and made sure no one but Rafe was there before I fully closed the door. He was sitting on a chair with his head leaning against the wall. His eyes glued to the floor as he heard my footsteps become louder. I had a feeling he knew it was me when I watched him open his mouth but nothing came out. The faint dry blood had stained his shirt, hand and due to the shitty lighting I can hardly tell if there was some on his face too. “What happened, Rafe?” His shoulders were limp and his breathing surprisingly calm.

“I tried to call you.” I stopped mid step taking in what he had just said. “I’ve done some pretty horrible things in my life, things that were driven by sudden decisions.” A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he finally picked up his head. “I told myself for the first time there was someone who actually cared enough for me to pick up her phone,” I opened my mouth but stopped seeing him shake his head. “I know you were busy and it's stupid for me to think that just because I called-” I rushed over kneeling in front of him and grabbing onto his hands.

“It's not stupid Rafe.” I tilt my head up making sure he was focused on my next words. “Know that I would have dropped everything to be there for you.” As we looked into each others eyes I thought of myself as over. Love is not easy to find and if you are lucky to get it right on the first run, you will have hell fighting to keep it. Somehow when it came to Rafe, it didn’t matter how it happened, it just did. And just like every person no matter how hopeless romantic you are, you look at those romance movies and think of how cringy something is. How stupid for them to make a statement without logical thinking but, here with Rafe, it was true. My job is important and it wouldn’t be practical to just leave it if he called but I would, I would choose him every time. “Believe me that I would,” I hear a sigh leave his lips as he slowly begins to nod. “What happened, Rafe?” I ask again with a quieter tone. A plea to not give me roundabouts. As he starts to speak I reach over and trace the residue blood on his face. It didn’t seem like he was hurt.

“I met Barry back in high school,” He leans forward, taking my hand away from his face. His expression suddenly turned cold, maybe even ashamed? “He was the one I used to buy drugs from until I decided to go clean.” Little island=lose mouths. You don’t have to try, people will come up and tell you everything about everyone. I didn’t care then and I don’t care now. “He came to find me about a week ago.” I get up with a small groan. Having him tower over me with such closeness brings ideas to my head that I had no time to think about right now. This man has corrupted my thoughts that I no longer have self control.

“Why didn’t you tell me then?” I clear my throat taking a couple steps back.

“Because when he first came to find me, it was a friendly visit,” He dragged on that word. He stood up from the chair, carefully eyeing my body language. “Before leaving he mentioned he had some drugs on him and offered me some,” My feet instantly started pacing as he continued to speak. “Of course, I said no, and he left.” I looked at him confused; how did it lead him here? “The next day I found an envelope taped to my door-” We both turned, hearing the sound of someone knocking on the door and the slow creak of it being opened.

“Sergeant said someone needed to be looked at?” A young girl cautiously stuck her head in.

“No need.” Rafe answers dryly, waving her off. I give him a look and start to walk over to the door.

“I’ll take some alcohol wipes and a bandaid.” I pull the door a little wider as she opens her first aid kit and hands them over. “Thank you.”She smiled sweetly before I closed the door behind her. “Sit.” I hear a groan leave his mouth before doing what I told him. “Why are you mad, I should be the one pissed off right now.” He rolls his eyes before confusion sets.

“A moment ago, you were worried and now you are pissed at me?” I scoff and laugh a little, unbelievable.

“And a moment ago you were acting like a victim, but I am yet to hear how that adds up.” Of course, I believe that there is a reasonable explanation on how he ended up here, so there should be no reason to be in a bad mood. “Now lean forward.” His eyes were daring me, just like the almost non existing grin on his face. He sits back, man spreading on the couch. I move to stand in the middle of his legs and with a sigh of defeat I lean forward to rest my hand on the back rest. He leans his head back and I am thankful the lighting is not shitty enough that it allows me to see his face clearly. I break open the alcohol wipe and start cleaning his forehead.

“Tell me you will believe me?” Once again, those puppy eyes. I bit my lip slowly nodding as I still focused on cleaning him up. He catches me by surprise when he grabs my wrist. “Tell me?”

“I will Rafe, now continue telling me how you got mixed up here.” He sighs letting go of my head allowing me to continue. “In the envelope were some transactions made by my father,” Ward Cameron. “Proof that he had sent a large amount of money to an account.”

“What does it have to do with the Barry guy?” I say as I throw away the wipe and get another one.

“The owner of the account is a friend of his. Years ago, while I was in rehab my father paid them off.” I looked into his eyes, and he was telling the truth. “Letting the word out that the heir to his business was doing drugs wasn’t a good thing so he paid them to stay quiet and leave outer banks.”

“By the looks of it they never left.” Inside was somewhat decent but I bet they hadn’t cleaned in months.

“Barry didn’t, he laid low until his money did too.”

“So, he is using the proof of the transaction as a threat?”

“Oou-’ He pulls back, feeling a sting. I held back a laugh.

“Sorry,” I whispered, moving on to be gentler. Still doesn’t explain the blood in his hands. “Continue,” He gives me an annoyed look like I did it on purpose but lets it go.

“I ignored it until last night. I went to visit Wheezie and she mentioned talking to him.” I paused looking down to meet his eyes again. Rafe had mentioned his sister before. The way he mentioned and talked about his sisters was the opening he needed to get into my heart. I like how proud he sounded when he mentioned their accomplishments. Wheezie especially, he seemed to be a sucker for her. “I couldn’t help myself and came straight to find him. One thing is to threaten me, but I know he intentionally went to find Wheezie.” I nod understanding his anger. “On my way here, I called you because I knew I was about to do something stupid.” My eyes fell down as a deep pit in my stomach started to form. “When I got here, I confronted him, then it led to me landing a punch and then he did this” He motioned to his face. I stood up as my mind turned gears. 

“I am guessing they didn’t catch him,” He shakes his head. So, the Barry guy was on the loose and with multiple charges coming his way, if he is used to this, he will be quick to hide in a good place. “I need-” I take a step to go around him, but he grabs my forearm and if it wasn’t for quickly grabbing onto the backrest again, I would have fallen on top of him.

“No,” Point blank.

“What do you mean no?” I furrowed my brow trying to figure him out.

“No.” he said again with a monotone voice. “I don’t want you involved in this,” I yank my arm away while still towering over him.

“Too bad it's not your choice.”

“Aren’t drugs that Jon’s guy territory?” I let out a laugh

“What are we, animals?” He didn’t seem amused. “This is my case,” I push myself away and, in an instant, he stands and turns to the door.

“Not for long,” I grabbed his arm, pulling him to stop.

“Stop it Rafe,” I push him back and stand between him and the door. “They gave me this case, tell me one good reason why I should back down.” Like a little kid he has his arms to his side. His eyes to the floor as his shoulders are slumped down.

“If you do this and you get hurt it would be my fault,” I wanted to take on this case. I wanted to do it for him. I see how it was affecting him that his past came back when he fought so hard to keep clean. One day he will tell me everything about his past and I will be there to hold his hand. Hopefully by agreeing with him now, it will show him that I am there for him.

“Fine.” He lifts his head with widened eyes. “But you have to agree on letting me on the case if they ask for my help,” He nods, moving closer to wrap his arms over my shoulders. I let out a content sigh before wrapping my arms around his torso. His breath tickled as he buried his face in my hair, right beside my ear.

“That means I will get more time to spend with you, alone.” I laugh.

“That has to be the only reason you want me out of this case.” I tease. I place my hand on his stomach and try to push him away but he doesn’t budge, making us swing a bit.

“Maybe,” His hands slowly creep to my hips. His face is still buried in the crook of my neck making a moan slip away when he begins to place kisses. “It will give me time to show you plenty of what you have been missing out on.” That voice. That low and full of promises voice, it always has a way to send shivers to my core.

“No date?” He chuckles.

“That's the date included. You will see what it is like to date Rafe Cameron.” I cringed a bit, but it made the anticipation grow even more.

“Since you begged so much,” I tease. He pulls away acting offended. “What?” I held back another laugh. I wait for his comeback, but his eyes only soften, his grip pulling me closer.

“And I would have taken this lifetime and the next begging for you.”

[review-anon]

Okay then, start with Hibiki, since she's older.

And also the one I'm more calmer on.

Hibiki when she was introduced everyone thought she would be the bitch sister nobody would like and Kanade would be the one everyone loves and while that remains the case its not universal.

It doesn't help she's like Hiyoko on steroids as she bullies and torments her little sister Kanade, is extremely immature and when the going gets tough she buckles under pressure. Heck the first two deaths could be blamed on Hibiki as Setsuka suggested the goddamn rave party which everyone was included in which led to Yuri dying. And then she again suggested a pop concert for Melody Rhyhmn which led to Koroko dying. Both were cases of trying to cheer Hibiki up and all it resulted in was Void striking and death.

But in a shocking twist at the end of Chapter 2, Hibiki realised she was indirectly the reason why Yuri and Koroko had to die, as it was her inability to be mature so she decided from Chapter 3 onwards she was gonna get herself a backbone, grow the fuck up and become a better person. This alone makes her miles better then Hiyoko since Hiyoko never openly decleared that her character development was way too subtle. Thus Chapter 3 had Hibiki be more sociable, more supportive as since Yuki was starting to feel the strain of the Killing Game she decided to help cheer him up, and becoming much more dependable of a person. But this was a character development. In Chapter 3.

This goes one or two ways, its either like Fuyuhiko, she sticks and becomes a survivor or its like anyone else where this is a fast ticket to death. But even that couldn't have predicted one for the absolute train disaster that Chapter 3 was. Heck if when Creeper does his Trial countdown in December if this isn't the least favourite then there is issues. Well I suspect SDRA2's Chapter 4 could rival it due to how much he despises Nikei but that's neither here nor there.

Basically not only was Hibiki fucked over even more then Tenko was but she got the mother of all manwha moments. I mean her sister being a serial killer is one thing, but turning her into a doll that sounds like its ripped straight out of a lime perverted fanfiction? The incest? And because again we are in peak manwha here, Hibiki due to how it happened was considered Setsuka's killer and was executed making this entire chapter one miserable moment.

Some feel like Hibiki was done dirty and decided to redeem her like Bubbles and Creeper have. Me? I just felt Hibiki's whole thing was emotionally manipulative to the point I feel dull. Now bear in mind SDRA2's Chapter 3 was shortly after I read The Mistake's Chapter 3 so I was already mentally dulled during the whole chapter. I honestly wished LINUJ didn't decided to be a Seesaw stan and stuck to his original plan with the twins where both Hibiki and Kanade had a very toxic relationship with each other as it would have made things a heck a lot more interesting, rather then Kanade being Korekiyo 2.0.

Obviously A Student Out of Time is the big one on redeeming Hibiki as she was rescued and became a core member of the Quantum Crew, to the point I did a entire character analysis on her. Survivor's Hibiki though was good as well as she also has to grapple with the whole dealing with Kanade and deciding she was gonna learn how to fight from Kaede and is now a honourary member of the V3 Kids. Season 3 will have many good things with her.

No my sketches won't have Hibiki making a massive character development and become better because I feel I won't be able to do what Bubbles and Creeper have already done but better.

Overall, like many I'm disappointed how wasted Hibiki was but I also feel if she wasn't wasted, she would have been an unpopular character due to how villainised bullies are. Heck I wouldn't be surprised her bullying Kanade is why LINUJ killed her off.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Baby boy brother birthday photos from last year that I just realized I never uploaded!

[bylertruther]

i don't like season three when viewing it as a continuation of seasons one and two, but i do very much like season three when viewing it as the prequel to seasons four and five... hmmmmm.

[headphonemouse]

Nothing in my life has ever tasted as good as how I imagine cartoon meat that looks like this tastes

[sybbi]

If anybody wants an update on the precariously-close-to-failed democracy of Ohio, the Republican supermajority is attempting to keep the sitting president off of the November ballot on a technicality they created (and have previously bypassed when convenient).

These are the same people that tried everything in their power to keep an abortion initiative off the ballot despite swearing up and down it wouldn't pass anyway because they totally represent the average Ohioan's opinion on this matter so they KNOW Ohioans are against abortion, and when the measure DID get put on the ballot and Ohioans DID vote to protect abortion, they immediately said "This isn't over," because fuck the people's will.

I've said it before and I will continue to scream it until I'm red in the fucking face:

One party isn't perfect, but they have shown they value the most basic tenets of representative democracy.

The other party is pulling out all the stops to ensure we are a "democracy" in theory only.

[lairofsentinel]

I love how this post forgets entirely that a lot of ppl are against GMO because they are deeply related to modifying food in order to resist certain pesticides that then end up in our food. It’s not because “contains genes”, it’s because contains non-biodegradable substances that pollute our lands and, by now, our clouds and rain. It’s about the chemicals that have tons and tons of studies showing they increase the development of allergies in the population, cause unusual hormone alterations, and even affect fetus in pregnant ppl. In the towns around the fields where they are spread, you have 3 times more cancer cases than the national mean, specially in kids. So, no, it’s not “mere genes”. It’s a lot more and deeper, related to sustainability and public health, which is also science that corporations ignore completely. What I found so curious is that most ppl from first world countries does not know that the majority of the GMO is not related to “make crops flood resistant”, but resistant to pesticides. Monsanto loves spreading that concept that GMO is just used to make “food have more vit A”. And ppl just repeat. Countries where we truly endure the use of GMO in our lands, we know exactly that GMO means.

GMO has existed forever, natives such as the incas practised it, it’s not “new”, it’s not “modern science”. Mexicas developed a hundred corn types over centuries with this technique. Again, it’s not new. Now we can accelerate the genetic modifications and be more accurate with the modern techniques, but it’s mostly to make them resistant to pesticides. Why do you think Monsanto was bought by Bayer years ago? The same corporation that sells you pesticides, that are, most of the time, non-controlled in their manipulations, is the same one that sells you food and then medicines because the illnesses related to the constant ingest of these [non-regulated] pesticides. And this is one of the many negatives effects. Another one that happens with GMO [even though nobody in this fucking place wants to acknowledge it] is the mono-cultive practices [non-rotation of the crops] that destroy the health of the soil, and if you don’t have a soil with rich minerals, the plants you put to grow there won’t develop properly or will be poor in minerals and vits. So, we have poorer food and erosion. Because, yes... GMO used in this way causes it. A big problem that, again, nobody speaking about GMO seems to know. We are not speaking about the erosion of the soils and how these practices are destroying entire countries’ biodiversity. 

Another great danger that specialists have been repeating over and over is that GMO usually forces similar modifications in different crops so different plants can resist the same pesticides that are sold in a big “bio-package”. This causes that weed and some plagues became resistant or stronger to this pesticide, so every few years we need higher doses or stronger pesticides that end up in our food and in our body [because so far, a lot of them are not biodegradable]. All the problems listed above become more concentrated. 

The other important danger is that it may happen a plague or a fungus that may be particularly prone to develop, associated with a similar modification that was used on different crops. This can endanger a lot of different crops with one single plague, causing potential destruction of big quantities of different kinds of food [this is also a very old concern known by natives since centuries ago, reason why they always tried to use rudimentary GMO techniques to favour a diversification of the crops, not the other way around like corporations do now]. So far we know, scientists have talked about this a lot, but one thing is a scientist talking about this issue, and another is a food-monopolised-corporation doing it, especially when corporations see more profit by just reducing the diversification in our food [less different bio-packages to develop]. 

And we can continue with the silly argument that “corporations are different to the GMO technique”, and even though that’s true “technically”, the reality shows otherwise. We live in a world where GMO has been monopolised. Hell, food industry is already monopolised, so don’t be so naive to think that we still can keep things separated. 

“Mere genes”. I would love so much this place to learn the topic properly before dismissing entire populations in this way. GMO, as it’s now, controlled and monopolised by corporations, is a big no-no. And dismissing the entire population whose children have 3 times more cancer cases than the national mean [northern provinces of Argentina, for example] because these pesticides, annoys me a lot. Never ever I've seen an integral post of GMO in this place. The topic is a looot more complex than the religious adoration of science or feeling superior because “I know science” or “I _believe_ in science”. Not all science is good, not all science is well tested before being used, corporation science is always a big question mark in many, many contexts, and science is always founded and moved by interests [unfortunately, more and more corporate interests by now]. Science is good, but don’t turn it into the new religion. It has limits and flaws, and it’s dirty to the neck with interests that few want to acknowledge. 

Funny how that works

[crittertalez]

As a system with a lot of nonhuman and alterhuman members (hence our system name) our alterhumanity often affects our daily life and make many of us want to nest, or make us be able to make nonhuman noises, or even have individual scents. And as embarrassing as it is to admit to more "normal" people, it can affect sex lives as well, including some members going into heats or ruts or whatever equivalent they have. Which would all sound like a perfect mix-match of things to get us into the misceverse! But there feels like there's just this significant barrier between us and that community

That being just how heavily it focuses on people's sexes and ascribing certain personalities or dynamics or behaviors or what have you to being a certain sex or having certain sex characteristics. Even when it comes to people making it more explicitly queer there's still an expectation to believe that, say, it is "typical" for a certain sex to be more submissive and calm while another is more aggressive and territorial. And, even more notably, it's seen as fun and interesting, quirky even, new, for this to be treated as a fact of life. The idea that one sex could instead do the actions typically associated with another is queer and known to be unusual (even if the person is describing it as a Good and Interesting thing, they're still enforcing the idea that certain actions typically belong to another sex)

Which.. Is just Sexism 2! "Women cook and clean and are more quiet, demure, submissive and Men protect the territory and what is theirs (which includes their wives, being treated as possessions), they're sex-driven and aggressive" 2. "Women nurture and Men protect" 2. We want to go into animal care, we spend much of our time researching animal dynamics and behaviors for fun. But even if nonhumans & alterhumans often do not see themselves as human, we are still all people, and the idea that ascribing certain personalities/behaviors/traits/etc to certain sexes is okay and fun as long as they aren't human sexes is.. Blegh.

I don't quite like being kicked in the head even when the kicker has a paw instead of a human foot. Something being seen as "natural" or a part of being a nonhuman animal does not automatically make it good

We've had this issue with omegaverse as a concept in general as well, especially when it comes to the versions that focus solely on men. Obviously the point is to explore secondary sexes and not the primary ones, but if you were to replace "omega" with female (and yes, that word specifically, so you understand what I mean) and "alpha" with male suddenly the problem becomes a lot more clear with ascribing submissiveness and nurturing behavior to one sex and aggressiveness, domination, and protectiveness to another

Adding a third sex or even sexes that have a mixture of traits assigned to them doesn't necessarily get rid of this discomfort, as there's still the fact of the matter that sexes are getting assigned typical personality traits. Not to mention that within the community there's an expectation to say what your sex is, and to see the idea of others being able to instantly tell what sex you are as hot and fun. Even with queer labels existing to make the idea more expansive and inclusive there's just something that feels.. Off. About how inherent to the community the idea of certain sexes coming with certain personality traits and behaviors is. I'm not much of a fan of bioessentialism even when it has a coat of nonhuman paint over it

(Also, the wolf studies that alpha/omega/beta as concepts were derived from are extremely inaccurate studies that don't have basis in real life and we honestly wish that the idea of alpha males would die out already so people stop thinking it's a real thing. It hasn't been pleasant to run into in any iteration, whether in zoology, incel culture, or alterhuman communities)

[mybraindumps]

I have not felt so unsettled as I have in the past few days, weeks, months (?) in a long time.

Infact I would go as far to say that the last year or so has been the best year of my life so far, not just in comparison whatever my life was before, but it was objectively a great year that anyone would be lucky to have lived.

I was wondering if all the high of a new life was draining out and the best parts of living by myself are fading the serious adulting things start to put me down but I don't think that's true.

I think what it is, is this sense of lack of control over my own life. Like too many external factors deciding what sort of day or week it's gonna be for me, emotionally or otherwise. I could have a really great day but there's no sense of control because I am contantly dreading when things will turn bad? And similarly I could have a really shitty day randomly and I feel completely stuck and powerless about doing anything about it.

A big big part of this is my fucked up client. Everyone's saying I have done such a good job, and maybe I have but people who are overly sweet generally, but turn into absolute monsters when things go even a little wrong or not according to them are I think worse than monsters who are always monsters.

Like, this bitch, would make our lives hell if she's upset about something, but all the other time she sounds so composed and logical and like you try to be mad but she just keeps flipping back and forth. And I am not fucking okay with this.

Why should my day depend on how she's feeling? And I didn't even fucking realise it but this has been going on for months. Easily 6 months or over. And it's not like we never make mistakes, we totally do. So in the beginning, I just thought, oh it was my fault, it's okay for her to react like that. But then you wonder how many faults were real and how may faults were cooked up out of nothing.

How many faults were their lack of understanding and miscommunication and scapegoating cause they do not even fucking know what they want and will flip whenever and think they are smarter cause she has an MBA or her title reads Marketing lead?

Answer me this. Why is the marketing lead fuming over oe single social media post being delayed? You take care of the entire marketing and this is your biggest fucking concern you entitled prick?

There are other things too, and I originally thought I feel lost cause too much is happening but I didn't even realise how done I was with the work shit.

I was just proud of myself for dealing with everything they threw at us, and yes, that's definitely something to be proud of, why did you forget it'd still affect you?

That even though you know your job is perfectly safe, being called out in front of everyone wouldn't affect you. That too when you did nothing wrong. You, who remembers what your nursery best friend wanted to be when she grows up, that you, thought that this wouldn't affect you cause you have a supportive team and you just wouldn't think about it?

They have to go, or you need to be taken off the brand. I don't care how many ideas you have about what all they can do, they can find someone else to deal with her if they can't findone else to deal with. Either way, not your problem.

Just becuae you can do everything, doesn't mean you have to. She's just like Kuber. No wonder their initials match. I have never ever taken the name of someone from my actual life here. Seems like I am gonna hate these two for the rest of my life.

But also, I don't really think that's true. You'll never have any positive things to say about them, but the second you are off, and never have to deal with her again, you'll forget. Like you forgot every other client who has been an ass to you. I guess Kuber will hold a special hate in your heart cause he wasn't a client, he was your boss, and you weren't used to asshole bosses. And you kind of walked into it knowing (or atleast sensing something off) he was an asshole.

Anyway, the point of this, your environment and the people you interact with on a regular basis will always affect you. Which is why you need to contantly watch your company. Getting out of shit once doesn't mean you can never fall right back into it. And mental health is kinda the same.

I am really fucking proud of you for doing everything you did, and got where you are but its also okay to realise that things haven't been great lately. And you can always prioritise getting better again and again, as many times as you need to.

I mean you did once, and you did it so well. This one's gonna be a breeze. Okay, maybe not, but its okay.

3:00 pm 11.10.24

[sapsolais]

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