#but i think that doing this is not going to get you that degree

[alastor-x-reader-stories]

"Bite Me" - Alastor x Reader - Part 2

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You....really shouldn't have bitten Alastor.

It was a threat, yep, and the guy did need to learn his actions had consequences, but...er. Was that really worth this?

The Radio Demon had practically been your shadow for the past week. His expression never changed, his tone never shifted. You were like, 90 percent sure he was thinking of the best way to kill you for maximum pain.

Pain wasn't good. You were allergic to it.

...That line usually got a chuckle out of whoever heard it, or in your case, whenever you thought it. However, this time, it didn't quite tickle your funny bone as it usually did.

Because Alastor was standing right there.

And staring at you.

In your goddam bedroom.

"....Hi." You said, chewing on your bottom lip.

Alastor's gaze darted for a second to your lip, then back to your eyes. And he said nothing.

"...Did you need something?" You said.

He continued to stare at you, unblinking.

You sighed "Listen, if you're going to kill me can you just hurry up already? I'm sure it beats how awkward this is."

Other than the slightest twitch of an ear, he still didn't respond.

You huffed, narrowing your eyes as a growl permeated through the air. "At least say something!"

He didn't.

"OKay, fine!" You snapped, throwing your hands up in the air. You crossed them over your chest with a pout, giving Alastor a mean side-eye. "Keep standing there doing nothing. I guess I could use a new hat rack anyway."

"...You don't have any hats?" He said, tilting his head to one side.

"I'll get some so I can justify having a hat rack." You said, tail flicking.

"Mhm... So, how sincere is this threat?"

"What?"

Alastor straightened his posture, taking a couple long strides to stand right at your bedside. "You make a lot of threats, my dear. And I've only ever seen you carry 1 out."

"Usually people listen to me." You said, rolling your eyes.

"So you've never actually follow through before?" He tilted his head to the opposite side than before. His grin seemed to stretched a bit, ears becoming less stiff.

"Does that make you happy?" You said, turning to face him "That you're the first idiot who made me actually do something?"

From how he practically beamed you can only assume it did. You sighed, flopping down onto the bed on your side. The intent was to ignore him until he got bored and went away or got sick of you and killed you.

Instead you found a shadowy tendril wrapping around your middle, rolling you onto your back. Alastor grinned down at you, his body a perfect 90-degree angle bent at the waist.

"I'm the first one you've bit?"

"...Yeah?" You said, raising an eyebrow. "I mean. I think I bit people when I was little and pretending I had rabies, but not really intending to hurt them..."

His grin widened. "How did I taste?"

...

"What."

"I want to know. How did I taste?"

Oh right he was a cannibal. You grimaced internally. Was that just something cannibals got giddy about? 'Hey I'm the first person you've eaten hurrah!'

The tendril around you gave a firm squeeze. You sighed and met Alastor's crimson eyes, giving him a flat look of your own.

"Dry and tough- like badly made jerky."

He laughed. "Well, of course! You bit into my jacket! Silly creature, you."

"....Well, you asked."

"That I did, that I did." Alastor hummed. He tilted his head too far to one side, leaning in closer to you "Would you care for a taste without my jacket?"

"No." You responded curtly.

The silence was palpable. Neither of you broke eye contact or changed your expressions for several moments. Those moments seemed very, very long.

His eye slowly twitched up and his ears dropped ever-so-slighty-

"Hm. Well, it's not like you'd manage that anyway."

"Probably not. Are we done?"

Another beat of silence passed before the shadows tendril dissolved into mist and Alastor was standing up straight again.

"Now, I wouldn't say this matter is done, but I suppose it could wait."

You sat up, staring at him. The more you stared, the more his eyes couldn't seem to decide on what to focus on. Was he...nervous?

That encounter didn't go anywhere else significant. He simply said a farewell and left you to your own devices.

===========

Your eye twitched as you took a long, deep breath.

Alastor was being so horribly, horribly annoying.

The last couple days he resumed his role as your shadow, but this time solely with the task of irritating you. He'd chew loudly, he'd step in an off-rhythm on purpose, he'd claw the surface of things you couldn't stand the sound of and it made your ears hurt and your jaw ache from how much you were grinding your teeth.

You had enough.

"Will you LEAVE ME ALONE!?" You snapped at him. He didn't so much as flinch, simply tilting his head and he leaned closer to you.

"Or what?"

"I'm going to shove your hooves so far up your ass you'll be coughing up horseshoes for a week-"

"I'm a deer, not a horse." He said, eyes crinkling up in amusement at your 'threat'.

You hissed out an agitated breath before taking a couple deep, long breaths and you felt your jaw lax (a little) and your temper die down a bit.

"...Yeah, you're right." You said after a moment "And I'm sorry. I didn't really have much of a reason to snap at you like that."

His eyes narrowed and you couldn't be bothered to wonder why. You said a curt goodbye and meandered off, feeling his eyes trained on your retreating form. You couldn't be bother to think about that, either.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi it's me the writer. Letting you all know that this is not planned in the slightest and i'm just winging it. No smut will happen EVER though because I don't wanna write it. So kindly look elsewhere if that's what you want. I will put a poll here though with considerations for potential next installment

[l4ndonorizz]

q&a stream gets personal (chat edition) / lando norris x reader

pairing: lando norris x reader

song: san holo - bring back the color

summary: a lighthearted Q&A stream between you and lando quickly turns serious when fan questions push you both to reveal long-hidden feelings, leading to a conversation that changes everything.

wc: 1.5k

The stream had been going for over thirty minutes now. You and Lando were sitting comfortably in front of the camera, bantering like you always did, making light of the fan questions. At first, everything felt easy—laughs, inside jokes, playful jabs—but you could feel the questions starting to shift, becoming more personal with every scroll through the chat.

Lando, as usual, was taking the lead. He leaned in, his eyes scanning the chat for the next question. “Alright, next one! This one’s for you,” he said, turning to you with that mischievous glint in his eyes. “‘What’s the one thing that annoys you most about me?’”

You laughed, grateful for the harmless question, though your mind was still spinning from some of the bolder ones that had come up earlier. “That’s easy—how you can never decide what to eat when we hang out. You’re so indecisive.”

Lando gasped dramatically, his hand over his chest as if he’d been personally wounded. “It’s called being considerate! I don’t want to pick the wrong place and have you hate me for it.”

“Uh-huh,” you teased, the ease returning to your voice. “Or maybe you just can’t make a decision.”

The chat lit up with laughing emojis and comments like “classic Lando” and “indecision king!” The conversation felt light again—for a moment, anyway. But then, Lando scrolled again, and his eyes locked on a question that made your stomach flip.

“This one’s for me,” he read aloud, his voice quieter now. “‘What’s the sweetest thing she’s ever done for you?’”

Your heart skipped a beat. The question hung in the air, and you could tell Lando was thinking, actually thinking, about how to answer. The playful energy between you shifted slightly, making the room feel smaller, more intimate.

“Well…” Lando started, pausing to look at you for a moment before turning back to the camera. “There was this one time when I got sick after a race, and she brought me soup and stayed the whole night to take care of me. That was pretty sweet.”

Your cheeks flushed instantly. You hadn’t expected him to bring that up, and the chat was going wild—spamming heart emojis and teasing comments like “aww, they’re so cute!” and “best friends or something more?”

You waved dismissively, laughing it off. “I’m just a good friend. That’s what good friends do.”

Lando turned to you, his smile softening. “Yeah, the best.”

His words sent a flutter through your chest, but you laughed nervously, pushing it aside. The chat wasn’t helping either, with more comments pouring in, speculating about your relationship. You tried to keep your composure, but the tension was beginning to creep in, a subtle shift in the air that neither of you could ignore.

Lando scrolled down again, and this time, the question he read out loud made the temperature in the room rise by several degrees.

“Oh, here’s a good one,” he said, glancing at you with a grin. “‘Do you guys think you’d make a good couple?’”

Your heart stopped. The chat was immediately flooded with excited comments, but all you could hear was the pounding in your ears. You glanced at Lando, expecting him to laugh it off, but his expression was more serious than you expected. He didn’t look uncomfortable—just thoughtful.

“I think we would,” he said, his voice steady but with an undercurrent that made your breath catch.

You turned to him, wide-eyed. “Wait, what?”

Lando shrugged, trying to play it cool, but you could see the nervousness creeping in behind his grin. “I mean, why not? We get along great, we always have fun, and…” He paused, glancing at you, his smile faltering just a bit. “I think we’d be good together.”

The chat erupted. Fans were spamming “I KNEW IT!” and “FINALLY!” along with a torrent of heart emojis and comments begging for more details. But you couldn’t focus on the screen. All you could focus on was Lando sitting next to you, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you.

Your heart pounded as you swallowed hard. “Are you… serious?”

Lando’s smile softened, and he shrugged again. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? I mean… we’ve always gotten along so well. I’ve thought about it before.”

The world seemed to tilt on its axis, and suddenly the lighthearted Q&A session felt too intimate, too real. You were aware of the camera recording, the thousands of people watching, and yet all of it seemed to fade into the background as the tension between you and Lando grew.

Before you could respond, Lando scrolled again, trying to move on from the tension, but the next question hit even harder.

“‘Have you ever had feelings for her?’” he read aloud, his voice now much quieter.

The chat was frozen, waiting for his response, and so were you. You didn’t dare breathe as you watched him process the question. For a moment, Lando looked like he might dodge it, make a joke out of it, but then he surprised you.

“Uh… yeah,” he admitted after a moment, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I mean… I’ve thought about it. More than once.”

Your heart leapt into your throat. The world felt like it had stopped spinning. Lando was still looking at the camera, but his gaze kept flickering toward you, gauging your reaction. The chat had exploded again, but you couldn’t process any of it. All you could think about was how you had just crossed a line, one that couldn’t be uncrossed.

You cleared your throat, trying to regain some composure. “I didn’t… I didn’t know you felt that way.”

Lando turned to you, his eyes full of something you hadn’t seen before—vulnerability. “Yeah… well, I didn’t really know how to bring it up. Until now, I guess.”

The chat was full of comments, pushing for more, but the two of you sat in an awkward, loaded silence. You felt your pulse racing, and for the first time since the stream started, you had no idea what to say. Everything felt too exposed, too vulnerable.

Lando, sensing the tension, tried to move things along. “Let’s, uh… let’s move on to the next one.”

He scrolled quickly, but the chat had taken on a life of its own, and the questions weren’t letting up. The next one made the tension nearly unbearable.

“‘Do you regret anything in your friendship?’” Lando read aloud, his voice quieter again.

You swallowed, the weight of the question pressing down on you. Lando turned to look at you, his expression serious now, no trace of the lighthearted banter that had carried you through the stream earlier.

“I…” you started, unsure of what to say. The chat was waiting, Lando was waiting, and you could feel the nerves bubbling up inside you. “I don’t regret our friendship; I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But…”

Lando’s eyebrows furrowed. “But what?”

You fidgeted with your hands, the tension between you almost suffocating. You could feel the words building in your throat, but you weren’t sure if you were ready to say them—not here, not now, in front of all these people.

“I guess I regret… not being more honest,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Lando’s eyes softened as he looked at you, the vulnerability still lingering in his gaze. For the first time during the stream, it felt like the rest of the world had disappeared. The chat, the cameras, the fans—it all faded away. All that mattered was the way Lando was looking at you, waiting.

“Honest about what?” he asked gently, his voice careful, as if he was afraid of pushing too far.

You hesitated, your heart racing. You knew the answer, and so did he. But saying it out loud felt like crossing a line that neither of you could come back from.

“I just…” you started, your voice shaking slightly. “I’ve never told you how much you mean to me.”

Lando blinked, clearly taken aback by your admission. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” you trailed off, glancing away as the tension became too much to bear. “I care about you. A lot. More than just… as a friend.”

The room felt like it had gone completely silent, except for the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. Lando stared at you, processing what you’d just said, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

Finally, Lando let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “I care about you too.”

The chat was exploding with heart emojis and comments, but none of that mattered anymore. The air between you was thick with the weight of everything you’d just revealed, and for the first time, it felt like you were both being completely honest with each other.

Lando gave you a small, nervous smile. “Well… I guess that’s one way to wrap up a Q&A stream.”

You laughed, though your heart was still racing. “Yeah… not what I expected.”

The chat was still buzzing, but all you could focus on was the way Lando was looking at you—as if everything had just changed between you, and maybe, for the better.

[sirenmoontarot]

Shadow reading 🪞🥀🌑

What shadow aspect is affecting your life that you need to be aware of?

Hi! I am Alla, and today i pulled some ancient treasures from my hidden chest. Let’s see what the Oracles have to tell you! 🌊🐚🔮🌑

𝑀𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓅 ~ 𝒫𝓈𝓎𝒸𝒽𝒾𝒸 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ~ 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈

1. Bracelet

NEGATIVE REINFORCEMENT PATTERN

For those who picked this group, you guys might often get stuck in a negative reinforcement pattern; it may be in one aspect of your life or to your life in general. The reality is that you are doing what you are doing, not because you really want to do it but to avoid something that you don't want. Instead of doing what you are doing to get something that you DO want, you are more motivated by negative stimuli such as fear and insecurities to do what you are currently doing than by a goal or actual aspiration. This can also lead you to feel lost in life and make you seem like you are just running away from things without a clear compass north of having a firm grasp of what you want, being that the reason for what you do. This can also lead you to resentment and unfulfillment in your life.. For people in this group, the advice is to be less fearful and insecure and instead ask yourself what you really want to do.

2. Blue and white seashell

AUTHENTICITY

For the people that have chosen this group, the shadow and karmic aspect you need to work on is authenticity. You are not being authentic with who you are, nor are you being honest about yourself with anyone. Each person comes with a unique essence, like an energetic signature, and our unique purpose, thoughts, feelings, unique desires, needs, and role within the greater universe are embedded in that essence. Growing up we are made to believe that if we are certain way, we will be punished, and therefore it sends a message to our unconscious that showing the truth of ourselves is unsafe. That we have to mold ourselves in order to be acceptable and therefore, loved. Anything that is rejected becomes something we are vulnerable about, and then we become split, and hide those parts. We can only be authentic to the degree that we know ourselves, for this reason, it is important to look inside of yourself. Aunthenticity is when your inside matches your outside. It is the conscious mending of the incoherences and incongruences between your inner self and outer self; what you do and project to the world. You have to face yourself, the shame you feel about your vulnerabilities because you can only make a change to what is real. Unless you know and admit to what you really think, feel, and want to do, you are in an illusion, and you can't get anywhere. It is like building a castle in the air, it will crumble. What do you really think, feel, need, and want to do? What is real?

3. Pearlescent box

YOU DON'T KNOW BUT YOU THINK YOU KNOW

For the people who chose this pile, you guys often fall in this shadow aspect of thinking and believing you know the truth about a situation, what is going on in your life, but in reality, you don't know. The truth is far behind from what you are interpreting it. Or it can happen because you miss an important piece of information that can make you misinterpret a situation. It can make us misguide ourselves, making our lives harder. In this case is important that you allow some outside input, and not create barriers with others in order to listen to them, despite that sometimes we think we may have more knowledge than others, more experience, and its legit! But for you guys, sometimes you fall in this psychic trap that makes you stuck, and misjuding situations. And the truth is that, the reality might actually be better than you expect! To heal this, you need to accept that you are having a subjective view, thinking it is an objective one. You need to allow yourself to consider other people's perspectives, or other ways to approach the situation to enrich your view and actually see the reality of the matter, which is not what you are thinking, or telling yourself it is.

4. Greenish seashell

THE FAULTY COMPASS

For the people that chose this group, what you need to see is that sometimes, your emotions, instead of serving as an accurate guide--an inner compass pointing towards north— they mislead you. You might think they are a real perception of reality, of your truth, but in reality they are not. You might even confuse them with intuition, a gut feeling... Due to past experiences, your inner compass has been distorted and messed up, due to many reasons; thoughts passed on to us, information we are fed, beliefs we are conditioned to adopt, experiences we lived and the meaning we assigned to those experiences... Sometimes when all that emotion overwhelms you about a situation, it most likely is the faulty compass at work. It is important you get in contact with yourself again, with your personal truth, and with your emotions, to understand the why of those emotions to find alignment again and follow your internal guidance system, that will accurately lead you to happiness and fulfillment.

5. Silver hand mirror

THE FILTER

For you guys, you tend to see everything with a negative, detrimental or limiting filter. This can happen to certain situations in life or is it a general habit you have. This filter it is something that distorts your ability to see the truth, what is real about a situation. This can happen due to past experiences that condition and shape the way we see and live life. This can happen about anything, in jobs, relationships, etc. There can be beneficial or detrimental filters, but what we should know about them is that they make you believe your subjective perspective is an objective perspective of the situation. To avoid this, when you find yourself with the lens of this detrimental filter, you can understand why and how this filter appeared, and consider every other perspective of the situations at hand to get a more objective truth, and therefore make better decisions.

6. Seashell brooch

SELF H4RM

For you guys, who chose this pile, the shadow aspect that you need to be aware of, is how you engage in self-h4rm in many forms and multiple ways in your life. You might be used to being very harsh on yourself, not allowing yourself to be happy, to give you, or even feel deserving of what you want. You might think that by punishing yourself you will never do the same mistake again, or that you can do penance and be more likely to restore a sense of your goodness. If we grew up in antagonized households, we often learned negative mechanisms to cope with those situations that your child self didn't have the ways to properly handle. We maybe blamed yourself for what wasn't your fault just to avoid feeling powerless or like a victim , or to stay close and feel connected and loved by the person who hurt you. Or we may also be even making choices that harm us in favor of other people's best interests. If you chose this pile, be more aware of the ways you harm yourself, and ask yourself the question ''What would someone who loves themselves do?''

𓇬 𓇬 𓇬

Thank you so much for reading 🤍 wishing you love, and lots of blessings 💖🌌

🔮 Visit my shop to get a detailed reading, and more services!

Alla 𓇬 @sirenmoontarot

Beautiful pngs from @saizun

[sitepathos]

From Gold to Mold

Chapter 2: The Neglect

The drive to the airport only made you feel more nervous about living here; you’ve only ever known Goodsprings, a town so small you could see everything in less than an hour, and now here’s a giant city that makes you feel like an ant. Even Vegas seems small to Gotham. And if their size wasn’t bad enough, the buildings’ weird stone creatures looked like they were waiting to fly off and scoop you up.

Luckily, your Daddy’s house is outside the city, surrounded by a wall with large fields behind them. It made you feel a little better that you wouldn’t be surrounded by so many people all the time.

“And here we are, Master Y/N,” mr. Pennyworth says as he pulls up in front of the massive mansion.

You get out and start to feel even more nervous. This isn’t a house, it’s a castle! Like the ones Momma showed you when she was researching stuff for her books. You’d probably need a map just to find the bathroom!

But, Mr. Pennyworth climbs up the stairs to the front door and you don’t want to make him mad, so you follow behind him. He opens the door and you’re inside a massive room with a giant grand staircase with a long red rug leading up to a second level that you can see leads to other places in the mansion.

“Welcome to Wayne Manor, Master Y/N. If you’ll follow me to your room, please.”

He leads you to the second level and down a few hallways to a room on the other side of the mansion. As you walk, you can’t help but think that all of Goodsprings could live here and there still be lots of room left.

“I apologize for the walk, but as Master Wayne and I have been the only two long term residents of the manor, the rooms meant for the family have not been in a suitable state for quite some time. And since it’s been some time since we’ve had guests stay over, the usual guest rooms have been repurposed for storage. I’m working on having one of the family bedrooms ready for you as soon as possible so you’ll be close to your father.”

“It’s alright,” you say, your voice almost a whisper. You really didn’t expect the butler to be so nice to you. “Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth.”

He frowns a bit, but says nothing before opening the door to reveal a room smaller than your one back home. A bed sits in the far corner of the room with a dresser directly in front of it, a big tv sitting on top of it. There’s a door to the right where you enter the room.

“That door leads to your bathroom, Master Y/N. We have some time before the movers come with your belongings. Would you like to see the rest of the manor?”

“No, thank you. I think I wanna sleep after we put everything up.”

“Of course, you must be exhausted. If you want, I can handle collecting the boxes while you rest. I can leave them outside your door for you to deal with later.”

“I can help, Mr. Pennyworth.”

He seems a little surprised that you insisted on helping, but he says nothing before leading you back outside where a delivery truck stops behind the car. Since all you had was a few cardboard boxes that had nothing but clothes, toys, stuffed animals, books, and decorations, it didn’t take long to bring it all to your room and set everything up. As you look at your new room with all your stuff in it, you can’t help but feel like none of it belongs here.

That you don’t belong here.

“Do you need anything else, Master Y/N? Perhaps something to eat?”

“No thank you, Mr. Pennyworth. I just wanna sleep.”

“Very good. But just know, when you wake up, you will be eating something.”

You just nod and close the door, turning off the lights before crawling into bed. As you get settled, you can’t help but notice how cold the house feels. Yeah, you’re not in Nevada anymore, where it can go over a hundred degrees in the summer, but it’s like the house blocks any kind of heat, leaving only the cold. You close your eyes and drift off to sleep.

You wake up, dreaming of your Momma yelling for you and being in a car when something slams into you, and when you look around your room, you’re greeted by absolute darkness. As if the sun had completely disappeared. You jump out of bed and rush to the light switch, slapping it. When the lights come on, you realize that the lightbulb above you is dim and without the sun, it barely lights up your room. Wanting to be where it’s bright, you run out of your room and down the hall only to find the rest of the house is just as dim as your room, almost like no one in this house likes the light. Your little legs carry you down the same route you took earlier today and fortunately, the foyer is completely lit up by a giant crystal chandelier.

You run down the stairs and into another hall near the staircase. You pass by large room after large room and finally find yourself in a fancy kitchen, Mr. Pennyworth standing in front of a giant refrigerator.

“Master Y/N,” he says. “Are you alright?”

“Yes sir,” you say, not wanting to worry the man.

“But you’re out of breath. And you’re sweating.”

It’s then you notice that your forehead is slick with sweat and your chest is heaving. When you look up at the butler, you can tell he’s obviously worried about you.

“I got scared,” you admit. “I woke up and it was so dark.”

“I would imagine since it’s nighttime.” You jump a little at that. “You’ve been asleep for over twelve hours. I would’ve waken you up, but you looked like you needed the rest.”

“I haven’t slept so good since Momma…” You can’t bring yourself to say it. “Left.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed about, my boy.” He walks over to you and bends down to your height. “I could tell that you and your Mother were close and losing her so sudden is something no one so young should go through. I know that she can never be replaced, but I promise you that Master Bruce and I will be here for you and will help you with whatever you need.”

You feel the empty feeling that’s been with you since Momma died shrink just a little bit. Maybe you aren’t as alone as you thought.

“Alfred,” a deep voice lungs from behind you. You both look back to see a tall man with black hair and blue eyes standing in the hall. “I’m about to head out.”

“Master Bruce,” Mr. Pennyworth says, standing up. “This is Master Y/N. He’s awoke from his nap just a moment ago.”

You feel your heart stop at the man’s name. This is your Daddy? A million different questions swirled around in your head, like what was he like, what’s his favorite thing to do, did he remember your Momma?

He looks down at you. “Oh,” he says, a blank look on his face. “Hello.” With that, he turns around and begins walking down the hall. “I’ll be in touch, Alfred. From the sound of it, it’s gonna be a busy night.”

You feel your heart split in two at the way he just completely ignored you. Did you do something wrong? But you didn’t even say anything!How can he be bad at you if you haven’t said anything? You do your best to not cry as you look up at Mr. Pennyworth, who’s very angry.

“I’m sorry, Master Y/N. I know he’s throwing himself into his work to deal with Master Jason’s death, but that behavior is absolutely unacceptable. I’ll make sure he apologizes for that in the morning.”

Unfortunately, your Daddy didn’t say he was sorry when you woke up that morning. In fact, he wasn’t there when Mr. Pennyworth brought you down for breakfast, his work said there was someone important at one of his offices outside the country, so he hopped in his plane long before you woke up.

You were hurt, but Mr. Pennyworth said that he’d make sure that when things calmed down, you and your Daddy would have a long talk. You could do nothing but nod, trying not to cry because all you wanted was your Momma to walk through the door and take you back home. You got even more lonely when you started your new school, Gotham Academy, which is where all of Gotham’s rich people send their kids; Goodsprings Elementary wasn’t even half the size of this school and to make things worse, you had no friends here. That’s not to say that people didn’t want to talk to you, somehow news got out that you, the love child between Bruce Wayne and some unknown woman, were attending Gotham Academy, older and younger students shared your the moment you walked through the door. Hearing them ask you about your Momma only made you miss her more, so you stayed quiet.

They found something new to latch on to later in the week when your Daddy adopted Tim Drake, a boy whose parents were just as well known as him; his parents were killed in a plane crash and Daddy took him in. When they found out that the famous Tim Drake was now the adoptive son of Bruce Wayne, you were forgotten about. They asked him what Wayne Manor was like, how’d he feel to be adopted by Bruce Wayne, and other questions you didn’t really understand.

You were excited about Tim joining the family, though; you often wonder what having a brother would be like and you two were very close in age. It would be nice to have someone other than Mr. Pennyworth to talk to. Maybe the two of you could play Pokémon together!

You walked up to him the day Mr. Pennyworth told you that he’d be living at the manor with you, excited to get to know your newest family member, but that excitement quickly died when he took one look at you and walked away, like you weren’t interesting to him. You tried over and over to get him to like you, to get him to play with you, to at least look at you, but he just pushed you away (very harshly). And if things weren’t bad enough, he and Daddy spent every night together, locked away in the library.

It wasn’t fair! You were here first and had yet to talk to him, but Tim gets to spend time with him! And every time you tried to join, they just pushed you away, like you were some kind of fly buzzing around them. When that door closed, you wouldn’t see them until the next morning, so they were probably watching movies in there or something just as fun. You lived with three other people and you somehow felt more alone than ever since Momma died.

You met Dick a year later, around the anniversary of Momma’s death. At first, you were excited because Mr. Pennyworth said he was very friendly and had grown up in a circus before being adopted by Daddy, so he could do all sorts of tricks. Maybe you’d finally have a friend who wasn’t the butler.

Unfortunately, this ended in disappointment, too. Sure, it started off nice, he greeted you warmly (at least more warmly than your Daddy or Tim had) and ruffled your hair. You were so happy, you thought you’d explode. Finally, you had someone that you can spend time with.

“Dick,” your daddy said in his usual tone less voice.

“Sorry, baby bird, gotta go! We’ll hang out soon, though, promise!”

“Soon” never came though. He came over a few times during the day to spend time with Tim, either helping him with homework or taking him to Bat Burger, but never you. He always said that he promised to hang out with Tim and he’d do the same with you, but after the fifth time it happened, you stopped trying. He also spend time with Tim and your Daddy in the library at night, none of them coming out for the rest of the night.

Barbara came into your life little bit after Dick. When you saw her rolling in her wheelchair, you felt bad and offered to push her around. She snapped at you, saying she was fine and didn’t need your help. That was the first, last, and only time you talked to her. When you saw her spending time with your “family” in the library, you weren’t even hurt because you had grown used to it.

Cassandra and Stephanie came in around the same time when you nine. Cassandra was a burst of energy and it actually surprised you; Wayne Manor seemed to cancel out all noise and forced anyone inside it to be silent (at least that how it was for you) and she seemed to be happy to meet you. That lasted all of a week, though, and she quickly lost interest like a puppy that had grown up and was no longer cute to its owners.

Stephanie looked at you once, like he was trying to solve some mystery, and that was it. Alfred told you that she was mute and you did your best to learn ASL to better communicate with her. You picked up some of the basics, but not enough to carry on an actual conversation, so you opted to carry a little notepad with you so she could write things down, but when she kept ignoring you in favor of interacting with the rest of the family, you got the message. And when she and Stephanie spent time with your “family” in the library night after night, you stopped referring to Bruce as your Daddy. It was clear he didn’t want the title.

You had Alfred, anyway. Spending nights baking, helping him with his chores, and talking about your day over tea was enough for you.

Jason came back (from the dead) when you were ten. You met him when you caught him trying to sneak into the mansion through a window instead of coming through the door like a normal person (then again, you’ve long since realized that no one in this place is normal. Except Alfred.). Your meeting ended when he gave you a black eye and told you to stay away from him when all you did was say hi. You cried the entire night because you had school pictures the next day. It was a while before Jason started making regular appearances, but when he did, you weren’t surprised to see him spending nights in the library. When he glared at you, his blue eyes turning green, you asked Alfred to let you eat in your room and the man agreed to bring your meals to you.

When you were fifteen, the last one of join the Wayne Family was your biological brother, Damian. And the day you two met, you became convinced he only existed to make your pathetic life a living hell because the moment Alfred introduced you to him, he pulled an actual sword on you, giving you a small scar on your left cheek. You could do nothing but fall on your ass and look up in horror as this ten-year-old boy from hell raised his sword, spouting some nonsense about him being the “true blood son,” that you were “nothing more than the son of a harlot,” and how he will “be the one to inherit his father’s legacy.” For a moment, you thought you were about to be killed by the little bastard when Bruce appeared from out of nowhere and carried him off, Damian shouting threats and insults at you the entire time.

“Sorry about that, Y/N,” Dick said as he helped you up. “Are you ok?”

“What do you think,” you shouted at him. “That monster just sliced my face with a sword and tried to kill me!”

“Hey, don’t call him a monster,” he responded, give you a look of disappointment. “He had a difficult upbringing and he’s having to get used to Gotham and living with us. You should try to be a good big brother and support him.”

For a moment, you thought you suffered from a stroke and had misheard him, but the look on his face said you heard him correctly.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? He tries to kill me and I’m suppose to just let it go?”

“There’s no need for that kind of language, Y/N.”

You deemed the “conversation” a lost cause and leave, Dick calling out to you before going to the wing that holds the master bedrooms. Fortunately, Bruce kept bringing in other people to be a part of this demented family, so you were stuck with the tiny guest room that didn’t even have a window. But, it was far away from them, so it was a good trade.

After that, it seemed like Damian made it his mission in life to make your life hell. You couldn’t pass by him without him insulting you, hurting you, or bringing up your Momma, which would lead to you crying your eyes out. And when he started collecting pets, he would send them after you, Titus and Alfred the Cat chasing you throughout the manor, forcing you to barricade yourself in your room.

That leads to today: you accidentally dropped your Momma’s pen while walking to the kitchen and unfortunately, Damian was around the corner, watching the entire thing. He was able to move faster than your eyes could follow and before you knew it, he had swooped down and grabbed it just as you were about to. You look up in horror as he stares down at you with his usual smug and condescending expression as he waves the pen around, clearly mocking you.

“Your reflexes are slow and pathetic, inferior. You’re a massive disappointment to the Wayne bloodline.” He stares at the pen with disgust. “While this pen is poorly made and lacks any craftsmanship, it’s still more than a failure like you deserves.”

You stand up to your full height, trying to ignore the burning desire to tackle the little brat and bash his stupid head in. “Give that back to me. Now.” You realize you’re practically grinding your teeth to powder.

“I don’t take orders from you, inferior,” he bites back, his green eyes glaring at you. “You’re far beneath me. I come from two perfect bloodlines and that makes me superior to you by rite of birth. Your whore of a mother somehow managed to slither her way into my father’s bed and bring you into the world. You might have Wayne blood, but your tainted blood dilutes it.” He gets in your personal space nod even when looking up at you, he still tries to assert whatever dominance he thinks he has. “We will never be equals.”

You use this opportunity to grab the arm holding your Momma’s pen. As expected, he does not take kindly to this.

“You dare lay your hands on me,” he screeches, wrenching his hand away.

You don’t know how, but the little shit has impressive strength. Sure, you’re not an athlete (you’ve stayed roughly the same height since you hit puberty and can’t build muscle mass to save your life), but he shouldn’t have this kind of upper body strength! But, you’re determined to reclaim the pen, so you grab his hand with your other one and start pulling with all your might, doing whatever you can to break his grasp of it.

“Let go of me, you filthy interloper!” With a big tug, he breaks your grip and you can only look on in terror as he walks over to the kitchen window. “If you want this pen so much, you can look for it out there!” In a flash, he opens the nearby kitchen window and hurls your pen outside, where a massive downpour drenches the yard.

You can’t help but look on as it flies far from the mansion and out of your field of vision; on the ground, you see a ripple in the middle of the massive lake of rainwater and mud that the storm has created over the last three days of nonstop rain, indicating that your precious pen is now underwater.

In that moment, you feel nothing but immense sadness at your pen’s loss and unbridled rage at the one who did caused it. Every last thing he’s done to you flood your mind and you feel your face becomes incredibly flushed, your vision goes blood red in rage, and hot, angry tears stream from your eyes; before you know it, you’re right behind him, his back still turned to you from throwing your pen.

“You son of a bitch,” you shout at the top of your lungs, causing him to turn his head as you quickly deliver a swift backhand to his left check, the sound of your hand striking him echoing in the kitchen.

You know he shouts something back, but you’re so filled with rage that his words fail to reach your ears. You know he’ll retaliate and probably get in trouble with Bruce and Dick, but you don’t care. You’re pissed off and want nothing more than to inflict even a small amount of pain onto him, so that he’d feel even an ounce of what he’s made you feel since you two met. Using your height advantage, you grab both his shoulders and with all your rage-enhanced strength, you shove him to the floor, loving the sight of him wincing when he lands on his rear, but instead of looking up at you in fear like you wanted, he has a pissed off look.

Realizing that finding your pen is more important than dealing with him, you sprint to the door, throw it open, and dash into the rain, not caring that your clothes were completely soaked after only a few seconds and the wind froze you to the core. All that matters is finding that pen, the only piece of Momma that you were able to take with you, something so precious to her she refused to go anywhere without it.

Except that day, when she was taken from you and your life fell apart.

You wade through the many puddles, your socks providing no support so you stumble and fall, getting even more wet. But you pick yourself up and keep running until your at the puddle far from the house and that’s when you get on your hands and knees and start waving around hoping to touch even a little bit of the metal. You feel nothing, but you don’t let up, moving around the puddle, not caring that you’re getting more and more soaked with every second and that mud is slathered over your arms and legs.

“Come on,” you shout to yourself, getting more and more upset. “Come on, where are you?”

Finally, you feel something small, metallic, and cylindrical. You latch onto it like a lifeline and pull it up so hard the force of it makes you fall on your back, the puddle covering your entire body. You quickly sit up to see Momma’s pen. Wet and covered in mud, sure, but it’s back where it belongs. Now that the urge to find it is over, your senses quickly catch up and your realize your freezing, shivering, and soaked to the bone.

You run back to the mansion and when you close the door, you see that everyone is in the kitchen, all their eyes on you. You look at Bruce and see him mad, you look at Damian and see a shit-eating grin, and you look at Dick and see disapproval.

“Did you slap Damian when all he did was ask you for a pen,” Bruce asks.

That little shit’s convinced them this is all your fault. Of course, you should’ve known that he’d make you the bad guy and deflect any blame on his part.

“He didn’t ’ask,’ he took—“

“But you did slap him over a pen,” Bruce cuts you off.

“Yes, but—“

“Wow, I’ve done some petty shit, but this beats all,” Jason mocks, acting like this was some show and not you being ganged up on.

“That’s so uncalled for, Y/N,” Dick chides you. “There’s no need for you put your hands on Damian, especially for something so small.”

Your breath hitches and all you want is for the floor to open up and swallow you whole. They say nothing to you and ignore your existence for years and now, the one time they notice and speak to you, it’s to do this?

“Master Bruce,” Alfred interjects. “You’re not being fair. I believe that pen—“

“Alfred, it doesn’t matter what’s so special about the damn thing, it’s just a pen.” He holds his hand out to you. “Give it to me. Damian asked for it and after that you just did, he’s going to get it.”

You see Damian’s grin grow and your rage comes back.

“Hell no,” you mutter, slipping it into your pocket. You see everyone’s eyes widen while Bruce’s frown gets more intense at your defiance.

“What did you just say?”

You can tell he’s pissed at you defying him. Oh well, you’ve already dug your grave, what’s adding a few more feet to it gonna do?

“I said hell no!”

“Oh, man,” Jason cackles. “You done fucked up, kid!”

“Go to your room,” Bruce says with clenched teeth. “You’re grounded.”

You quickly leave the room, wanting to put as much room between them and you as possible. As you leave, you hear them talking about you, asking what’s wrong with you, how childish you are, and other stuff you really don’t want to hear right now. When you close your door behind you, the dam breaks and you fall to your knees, letting out a wail and allowing tears to stream from your eyes like a waterfall. The last time you cried this hard was when you were told Momma had died and it’s in this moment you wish you had been in the car with her now more than ever.

A knock at the door brings you back to your harsh and uncaring reality.

“Master Y/N,” Alfred calls from the other side. “May I come in?” You get up and open the door. “Oh, my dear boy.”

You allow him to come in and he closes the door behind him before bringing you into a tight hug, which is when you resume your crying.

“I hate them,” you shout in between sobs. “I hate them all!”

“I know,” he says. “I tried to tell them after you left the room, but they wouldn’t listen.”

“Alfred,” you say, pulling yourself together enough to talk coherently. “When I turn eighteen, I’m going back to Goodsprings.”

He pulls away and looks at you. “I understand why you feel that way, but it’s been ten years since you left, Master Y/N. If you go back there, you’ll be alone.”

“I’m alone here, Alfred!” You pull away from him. “Ever since I came here, they’ve made it clear that I’m unwelcome here! That I don’t belong here! At least back home, I’ll be surrounded by memories of Momma.”

“But this has been your home for ten years.”

“This isn’t my home, Alfred. It never was and it never will be.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it. Instead, he pulls you back into another hug. “I understand. I’ll miss you dearly, but if going back will make you happy, I’ll wish you all the best.”

You can do nothing but cry. You’ll miss Alfred, the only good thing to come out of going to live in this godforsaken city and this manor from hell, but when you need to get out of here. The sooner you leave Gotham and get back to Goodsprings, the better you’ll be.

A/N: thank you all so much for the likes and comments on chapter one! I really didn’t think that so many people would like it, but here we are! I hope you all continue to enjoy this series!

Tag list: @minkyungseokie @solelifauna @nosyrobin

[fuji-sen]

the 'evil imposter' just wants to be a baker!

Prologue: The Food turned Imposter?!

Part 6: Ginisang Ampalaya

[ part 5 ] || [ masterlist ] || [ part 7 ]

divider is made by @/saradika-graphics

"Wait!" Paimon yelped as the Pyro slime that accompanied you lunged at them, going into their ignited state. The floating fairy dodged with ease as Aether was about to bring out his sword out of its sheath.

"Don't hurt them!" You pleaded, and he hesitated, which caused the Pyro Slime to hit him in the face. "Wait Don't hurt Aether either!"

"Yeah!" Paimon nodded in agreement, but yelped in fear once again when the pyro slime turned its attention to her and glared. Who knew something as cute and small could have such a fiery gaze.

Ignoring the two smaller companions, you worriedly approached Aether who was on the ground, he was rubbing his face and wincing at his own touch. "Oh I'm so sorry Aether, he didn't mean it okay? he was just protecting me." You apologized, hands reaching to his face to find the skin dry and warm, but luckily he did not end up with any degree burns, perhaps it was the plot armor protecting the main character's face.

Luckily the blond seemed to be nice about it as he let the incident go, "'s alright, I kinda did freaked you two out." he waved his hand to dismiss your apologies.

Your eyes continued to glance at his face, soaking in his appearance and the finer details the game did not have, it did not also do justice to the other worldly beauty that is Aether "Still your face is a bit red, is it because of pyro here?"

Aether rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed "I'm fine really. it's just . ." he glanced away from you and you flushed realized how you were invading his personal face.

Reeling back you awkwardly chuckled "so what brings you two here?" "Oh. ." Aether stood up, holding his hand out for you silently as he thought about what to say. Should he not tell you just yet so he could easily observe you while your guard wasn't up? or should he tell you now and risk you putting on a mask?

"Well. ." Paimon looked away, slowly floating closer to the duowhile eyeing the pyro slime warily who also approached it's master, you. "We just wanted to get materials and do a few quests in the area." Aether easily offered with a well practiced smile.

Bobbing your head, you didn't think too much about his lie. You had a sneaking feeling after all on why he was here. A part of you wanted to run, run from anybody that wasn't an 'enemy' or 'mob' by the games standards. But Aether was an outlander, maybe he didn't have this crazed devotion to the Creator like Jean and Lisa did.

You took his hand without complaint or any fear, were you this quick to trust people? he wondered. "Thanks!" you smiled at him and stood up with ease- but quickly faltered as something electrocuted you both. It was a tingly sensation at first, until light and golden lightning sprouted from where your two hands made contact, then it travelled, to your wrists then up your arms-

"Ack!" you yelled, shivering in fear as you stepped back, slapping his hand away. "I'm so sorry! What happened?!"

Your eyes widened as you stared something right in front of you. There, right in front of you, emitting a golden light. . was a holographic tabs you'd seen in sci-fi movies.

"What the. ."

[Color] eyes met golden ones, both wide due to shock. You two could both see it. It displayed both of your inventories-

There you could see the uniform Katheryne had given you, the only item in the Cosmetics Section, which was an entirely new section!

୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀

You two had left the shores of the lake, far away from prying eyes as you two entered stormterror's lair. Since the hilichurls may not take kindly to Aether and Paimon you stayed at the east entrance you had used to get to the lake.

The entire walk had been silent, you and Aether having a calculating look in your faces as you tried to understand what this means for the both of you.

Deciding to just fuck it and hope he doesn't kill you, you decided to speak first, taking charge of the conversation. "Aether. . by chance, did you always have the abilities to have your own inventory space and pull out a virtual map?"

You two had also separately inspected the glowing virtual screen that displayed in front of you. "Yeah, it's something me and my sister picked up from traveling different worlds." He told you, eyes finally moving to glance at you.

That would explain it other than saying the game developers just gave it. "I see. Then, why do I have one. I may come from another world, but being here is purely accidental." You told him and watched as their jaw drops.

"You're also from another world?!"

You nodded at Paimon's question, then put a finger to your mouth to make them quiet down. "Yes." You weighed the options of whether to tell Aether about the whole world being created by a game, it would definitely destroy the residents of the world's mind, but Aether wasn't affected the laws of the world, maybe he'd be safe with this knowledge. . or does uttering it cause an event similar to what happened in the deserts due to the forbidden knowledge?

Still since Paimon was here you decided to hold off on it.

Aether frowned, did that mean you were no imposter nor the creator. That would make you a normal person stuck in a very bad situation. Still. . your voice was familiar to him, as if it was a forgotten song he was slowly remembering.

You felt familiar yet different,

new and old,

friend and stranger. .

"You are finding your sibling right." you suddenly asked, no, it was more of a statement with your tone. The way you spoke and held yourself in front of him, you knew something.

Then your face contorted into one of sadness and pain, as you told him "The journey ahead of you will be very tough Aether, you're sister was fine, but for reasons I'm not yet entirely certain about, she does not want to be found, nor does she want to leave Teyvat at the moment."

"What?!" he grabbed your shoulders, tight enough to make you wince as he desperately waited for an answer.

"She. . She is planning something with an organization, I know things but I cannot make a certain conclusion with it." She winced, the lore and story of teyvat was heavy yet she wasn't an expert, nor was she one to theorized the future and even then she had a hard time wrapping her head around the story. She didn't want to misinform Aether because she, you acknowledged that you aren't entirely sure of things anymore.

The game didn't have a creator, so what knowledge is real or false, what information has been neglected in the game that may be important here?

"At. . at least she's alive." He sighed, nearly falling to the ground from the revelation. Knowing his sister was alive was nice enough, that she was well and kicking and planning like usual. "Could you, could you let go of my shoulders now? it's starting to hurt. ."

He quickly let go "I'm sorry!"

Waving him off, you rubbed your shoulders, the pain slowly disappearing. "It's alright." you assured him, you understood why he reacted after all. This was just the cherry on the icing anyway, the future. . despite being surrounded by many people, you couldn't help but think that Aether was lonely, for he missed his sister who was always within out of reach.

"You, you know my name though, and about my sister. If you come from another world. . how do you know?"

You eyed Paimon and your pyro slime, "could you two leave us for a bit? how about you eat some fruits and pinecones." you suggested to the two with a smile. The two small companions stared at each other, and despite pouting and huffing, they obliged.

"I cannot say for now. I don't know how you'll react to it." You honestly confessed once the two were out of earshot. Would saying that he was in a world that was created to be a game destroy him? because he would realize that his and his sister's journey, separation and the loneliness was caused to be the premise of a game where he was to be controlled for entertainment. .

"However, all I can tell you, without bringing the world to destruction (with forbidden knowledge) is that I'm always on your side Aether, I have been with you since the beginning of your journey."

"beginning. . but" he clutched his head at a flurry of memories, he knew Paimon was the one there with him, ever since he fished her up. But then those memories slowed down, connecting with one another to be coherent.

"Alright, so now I have to fight the shogun to end the archon quest in Inazuma. ." there's a faint voice in the back of his head as he stood in the middle of Ei's throne room. The ashes of Signora laid on the tatami mats as the Shogun silently stood, waiting, or were they paused.

And just like usual, his body was covered in a faint golden glow, it was like he was stuck in a warm embrace as his body was being controlled. He pulled out his map, as his finger clicked on a waypoint to a domain.

"Since I got Ganyu, I should build her for the boss fight. Then I'll cook some recovery Items." A voice said, he couldn't quite tell where it came from. Because it felt like the voice was from everywhere and no where in particular, it was in his head, it was from above, then to his sides.

Suddenly he watched, while standing inside the Momiji-Dyed Court as the visages of Diluc, Xiangling and Diona appear beside him, all covered in that same glow. They two had been summoned by the voice. "Hello Traveler, it seems her divine excellency needs our assistance. Do you know who this is for?" Diluc asked, though his body could not move, he was able to speak.

"It's for Ganyu this time." Aether said as the man nodded in understanding.

"Aether!" he was pulled out of memories, finding himself on the ground with the others staring down at him worriedly. "I. . I remember."

"Remember what Aether?"

"This. . This has all happened before. But you where there, you were everywhere. Your voice, your guidance, you control us, control me as I travel to Liyue, then to Inazuma, then to Sumeru and Fontaine. But you also controlled other vision users!" he said, his voice had started off as slow and in awe but as he continued he spoke faster and quicker.

His face turned to one of awe and respect for her, because he remembered, not everything but enough to know, to know that the voice he had heard before was the same you now held. That your warmth was still there, though now withdrawn from the pains the others had caused you.

"You helped me."

"Ah. ."

Yet your face turned to a stark contrast from his own, instead of awe or happiness, you stared at him terrified.

. . .

Aether knew, he was beginning to become self-aware. You assumed he was talking about the times you controlled him to push forward the plot, to finish archon quests after archon quests. . You hoped he wouldn't utter those words, you were afraid of causing another incident similar to that of Sumeru's.

Seeing you look, he took a few deep breaths, placing his hands on top of your own as he sat up, once again your eyes met and he said softly, and with all the sincerity he had.

"Thank you."

Even though the world and time itself rewound, even if he lost all progress and has to go through all the nations again, still he can't forget about her help. Vaguely he could recall your commentary from different events, how you were silent when he died, and how you had been respectfully silent to mourn for his death. How you shouted and complained when his sister left him once more, when none of the first three archons could give him any concrete information. How you laughed when you chose to call Paimon an emergency food every now and then. How you shared his sentiments, wishing you didn't have to help everyone only for missing flyers to be your reward.

"hic. ."

You found yourself crying again, you knew the world was just a game, and you knew you only played it because of the food, and the visuals and for comfort at the beginning, but for you to get attached to the characters and the world, for you to painstakingly go through those annoying missions and dialogue, to build characters and pull for them. . .

to have Aether of all people to genuinely thank you, when he had gone through a lot of things (and he remembers) made you feel a sense of accomplishment, what you did wasn't useless. It wasn't for nothing.

Because if it were nothing, he wouldn't be thanking you, and shedding tears with you.

⟡𓌉◯𓇋₊˚⊹♡

"You guys are weird!" Paimon complained as she rubbed her swollen eyes, having shed a few tears to "Who shares a few words and suddenly bursts into tears anyways!"

You and Aether chuckled, walking once more as you offered to show him where and who you have been staying since nearly being killed by Lisa. "Make sure to not attack or scare them okay? The hilichurls are nice as long as you are too. Right?" You turned to the pyro slime who made a motion similar to that of a nod.

"I. . I see. I'll make sure to be on my best behavior." Aether said though seemingly he had begun to regret the idea when you were heading for a very huge hilichurl camp.

"Unu!" You hear someone shout, and they repeated as if spreading the word that you had returned. "Hi guys-" you said before gasping as a few hilichurls began to attack Paimon and Aether.

"What hey-!" you yelled stopping them, "Odomu, they are Odomu!" you quickly said pointing to them. "Odomu?" they hesitated, clearly suspicious of the two new comers who accompanied their God.

You nodded in confirmation, "This is Paimon, and that is Aether, whose hair you are still pulling." Huffing you approach, chiding the hilichurl who was pulling the blond's hair.

Pinching the bridge of your nose you repeated, first pointing at Paimon "Odomu Paimon. Odomu!"

"Odomu. ."

"Aether, Aether Odumu."

"Odomu. . ."

Then you smiled as they finally lowered there weapons, your hand stretched out, patting their heads like you would do for a child "Good. . Good job guys. Thank you for trying to protect me."

Despite the language barrier, seeing your soft expression, hearing your gentle voice and feeling the warmth form your touch alone. . they simpered.

"She makes Hilichurls look like docile puppies. ." Paimon couldn't help but comment as Aether silently nodded, his hand petting his frayed hair.

The hilichurls calmed down when they realized she had returned from a trip, pulling out the contents from her rucksack they slightly deflated from the lack of meat. Rolling your eyes playfully at their reactions you asked Aether for some help getting some Meat and Eggs which luckily he had in his inventory.

So as you managed to convince the Hilichurls to let you cook, you found yourself in the cooking area with Paimon, Aether and your Slime. The pyro slime returning to the dug out hole with ashes and wood.

"Oh I'll get some sticks and branches!" Paimon offered as she looked around the camp for materials to stoke the growing fire. "Anything you need help with?" Aether turned to you, realizing he was left with no tasks as Paimon and your slime were finally getting along swimmingly.

"Well can you fill the pails with water for me?"

He nodded "sure, that's easy." With the help of his map he was able to find the few ponds or rather water sources near the camp. After a couple of trips, he was now helping you wash the ingredients clean.

"So while Paimon and the Slime are busy, can you tell me what you know of this. ." you trailed off before bitterly spitting out ". . imposter and creator situation I got myself in?"

Aether begun slowly explaining while you both began preparing, he was tearing the cabbages as you were cutting the bitter gourds. "So first, there's this Divine Creator. In simpler ways to explain, they are higher than the archons, possibly Celestia. And they're considered the mother of all due to her caring and warm nature."

You nodded along, scooping out the inner contents of the bitter gourd or 'ampalaya' after having slicing the ampalayas into two. It was luckily you found wild ampalaya growing. "They think I am her or some cheap imposter then?"

"Yes, apparently imitating the Divine Creator is grounds for quick execution without trial." Aether said with a frown, one that mirrored your own. That was. . unfair. "Do they not understand a person is not born with the choice of how they look like?"

He didn't have an answer to that, whether the residents of Mondstadt were fanatic believers that didn't take the time to think about things logically or whether they were just. . dumb, well he wasn't sure. It was beyond him really, their thinking process that is.

"Anyways, Kaeya sent me here, he was a bit skeptical of how they handled the situation and quickly labelled you as an imposter. He told me how there is a prophecy, that well prophesized how an imposter, a demon or sign of catastrophe would come to Teyvat and cause disasters while wearing the face of the great Mother to smear their name and spite them."

"So me going to Teyvat when Dvalin was terrorizing the city as Mondstadt. . was just some bad timing for me. ." your frown had deepened. You were slowly becoming even more bitter as you held the knife tightly and begun to cut the ampalaya pieces into thinner slices.

"uhh" Aether wanted to get the knife away from you as you dangerously begun to cut the ampalaya in a quick and heavy pace due to your foul mood.

"so," your smile was icy "anything else I need to know about?"

"Jean, Lisa, Amber and the other knights are hunting you down since they haven't found your body in the lake. . ."

thump!

"c-can you give me the knife-?"

OMAKE

the hilichurls sadly stared at the food you had prepared for them, not much meat in sight. they even noticed you had prepared something with bitter gourds, which they knew would be very bitter.

Paimon and Aether were silently waiting as well for someone to eat first. The atmosphere was thick and they wondered if it would be rude for them to start eating now.

Meanwhile, Pyro was eating some sticks and pinecones, which burned into nothing inside their fiery stomachs. You sat near them, a smile on your face as you patiently waited for them to eat your cooking. Having noticed their eating tendencies, you realized that they ate more meat than vegetables. "Come on it tastes good, It's not going to be bitter I promise."

Ginisang Ampalaya was the dish you cooked, it was something you learned from one of your Filipino classmates. It had a mixed of ampalaya slices, eggs, tomatoes, some pork, and onions too. It would be nice to have some rice but even Aether hadn't been able to buy any.

"You need to eat your vegetables too." you told them. The samachurl who had also been silent, decided to take a bowl of the ampalaya, "Mosi gusha!" (eat vegetables!) it told the others who repeated in a more sad "mosi gusha. ." and thus they begun eating. But. .

"!" they stared at the meal, finding it to not be bitter as they had anticipated. They tasted the meat and the eggs more than the bitter gourds. and so they ate at a more happy pace.

Paimon and Aether followed, with Aether smiling "This is good, I didn't know you could cook something like this without a recipe!" You chuckled, cheeks flushed with the praise "It's no big deal, I learned that in school."

"Oh like a home economics class?" he briefly remembered a world like that, perhaps it was yours? "Kinda but more professional, its a cooking school so you can become a chef."

"A chef?! that settles it! come with us in our journey to find aether's sister!" Paimon said through a mouthful.

You all smiled and laughed as you talked, and suddenly you didn't feel so bitter anymore.

To help the readers in their long journey, I decided to give you a few functions! Nothing tooo op, but something very useful especially for travelers and chefs! You have your own inventory system (which is the same as the ingame one)! Of course shared with the traveler as you two are connected as the player and the vessel!

NAMING THE PYRO SLIME EVENT: ONE ACCOUNT IS ONLY ALLOWED TO SUGGEST AT MOST 2 NAMES (this applies to me)!

Current compiled suggestions: Fuji_Sen has suggested! Lava Cake or "Java" based on the food / coffee" Fuji_Sen has suggested! Monsieur Creme Brulee or "Creme" based on the food. @Fantasyhopperhea has suggested! Soleil or "Sol" @Cactus4226 has suggested! Ruru (Py-ro, ro -> ru -> ruru) @bunniotomia has suggested! Helios or "Hel"

taglist: @fantasyhopperhea @rhoswen-drake @cchiiwinkle @aman3kkun @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @bunniotomia @esthelily @earth-to-name @fandomfan-102

hopefully the tag works now, I've been having trouble with a few accounts since the tag wouldn't work on them. If you are not tagged successfully that means tumblr thinks you are a bot (because you don't have posts, or much interaction), you have been shadowbanned, or your visibility is set to prevent you from being tagged.

check here for more info.

[howtofightwrite]

Hello again!

Listen this is gonna come across as super weird, but what can cause a leg injury to be so bad that doctors have to resort to amputation? Originally, I was gonna go with a gunshot, but I read that it typically wouldn’t escalate to that degree.

The reason I’m asking this is because I want to make the villain of my story hateable and take something away from my main character: her pride in her ability to physically fight. Of course, she continues to fight with a prosthetic leg because screw him, but also faces some struggles with adjusting.

Usually, infection. In a survival situation, it's possible the leg has become gangrenous, at which point taking it off is the only reasonable route. The answer does depend on the overall level of technology, and how little the practicing surgeon cares. I know of a case where an army surgeon was ready to amputate a leg over a spiral fracture. There's also plenty of medical malpractice cases where an amputation is performed on the wrong limb (or wrong patient.) They're not exceptionally common, but they do happen, and when you've got overworked, disengaged, hospital staff, the risks go up.

Maybe it's personal bias, but I think there's something more sadistic about losing a leg to an injury that really didn't warrant it.

In fairness, it's also possible (if your villain is armed or able to exploit the environment) to mangle the leg beyond use in combat. Such as running an axe through the knee joint performing the amputation on the spot, crushing the leg under a car, or some similarly, unreasonably heavy object. There's a lot of industrial equipment that could pretty quickly take a leg off, if you're not careful. At that point, there's a legitimate question about where this fight is happening.

At the other end of the spectrum, your villain doesn't really need to get the leg amputated to take away their ability to fight. Destroying the tendons holding one of their knees together would go a long way towards doing that without actually taking the knee itself.

-Starke

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[bitterbutblue]

Your Ruan Mei angst broke me I need fluff to restore my soul please 🥺🥺🥺

Also it was really good I was thinking about it for the rest of the day

ruan mei time~

you make me feel alright ☆ ruan mei x reader

~ I GOT U ANON SORRY RUAN MEI LOVERS FOR THE PAIN I HAVE CAUSED U here is one where she [REDACTED SPOILERS][REDACTED SPOILERS][REDACTED SPOILERS]

studying a stem degree and going through it unwillingly

SOTD: just fine - spookyghostboy ~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

As a scientist, everything must be objective and everything is always going to be black and white. She has discerned herself from anything that held her back from her true potential- anything that had to do with her past. Or just who she was.

You were everything she hated, everything she despised about who she once was and she wanted to hate you so bad. Yet something about the way you smiled at her for the first time was so infuriating that she decided she never wanted to see you again, but also wanted to spend eternity with you.

"Darling, what do you want for dinner?"

Ruan Mei looks up at the sound of your voice, her heart clenching in a way she really hated feeling but also simultaneously wanted to feel that way forever. She doesn't smile, she doesn't react and she barely flinches but she feels her finger twitch slightly as your eyes meet hers from where you were sat on the couch- sprawled out like a mess and she had to fight the urge to want to walk over and just lay down in your arms. She hates the way her heart jumps a bit, as if giddy like a child.

"I don't mind."

"I'll get us noodles. I'll order you a sesame cake on the side?"

The fact that you remembered her love for sweets had her swallowing, her throat going slightly dry.

"That would be wonderful."

"Great, it'll be here in twenty."

When you pressed a soft but quick kiss on her cheek, she feels her heart speed up even more as she looks down to bury herself in her work. She would honestly rather die than have you realise how red her face was getting in that moment.

(You knew though, smiling to yourself because how can someone be so adorable?)

You move to sit next to her, scrolling through your phone as you hummed whatever song was on your mind, taking a drink from your mug between intervals. Her eyes drift over back to you against her own will, gaze softening as she watches you break into a smile as you giggle at whatever stupid reel you were watching on your phone. She hated how carefree you were, how happy you were. She hated how you were everything she wasn't but she still can't help but love you more than she loves the world itself.

"I love you."

The sound of sputtering fills the silent room as you cough and wheeze, trying to catch your breath. You feel your face heat up as you look up at her, and you half-expected her to not even be looking at you, or maybe she was talking to someone else.

Her eyes are on you. They have always been on you.

"I love you too."

Your voice is slightly strained, shaky as you were barely even able to speak. You haven't been going out for long, maybe only a month or two at this point and some part of you knew doing this, dating her, would possibly result in you developing major trust issues forever or hating relationships or whatever bad ending would come out of dating someone like her.

But she has been the best experience of your life.

You just never thought she'd ever truly love you the way you loved her.

Ruan Mei moves closer to you, inching her chair forward as she awkwardly glances between you and your hand, as if wanting to take it. So you put your hand on top of hers.

"I love you, Ruan Mei."

As a scientist, she should understand what it is she's doing and why she does what she does. She doesn't understand the urge, or the sudden compulsion. But she finds herself surging forward, moving to press her lips against yours as if desperate to feel you against her. You freeze, and for a moment she thinks she messed up and this horrible feeling she wishes to never feel again washes over her. A horrible, icy cold, as if someone had just injected ice straight through her veins. But it warms up as soon as she feels your hand against her cheek and your lips move in a way she's never felt before. It feels warm and it feels... it just feels.

She can't describe it but for the first time she feels like she wants to smile.

"Never kissed anyone?"

Your breathless words, flushed face and soft gaze has her feeling like a puddle. She doesn't mind, for the first time ever.

"I may need to do that again... for scientific research." She mumbles dazedly, eyes still glued to your lips. You just giggle, pulling her in again- completely missing the sound of the doorbell ringing nonstop as she smiles for the first time against your lips.

[miyku]

“But [they’ll have] some very interesting contributions, given their history, their relationship with Solas, which can be quite complicated as a Solavellan player,” she says. “And don't judge me too hard, but as a Solavellan player, you know how complex that relationship between the Inquisitor and Solas could be. That is something we needed to pay off, and I'm happy to say, I think we did.”

Epler also acknowledges that the Inquisitor “obviously has a very personal relationship with Solas,” one that will need to be reckoned with in The Veilguard.

“Whether you're Solavellan and you've romanced Solas, or even just any other Inquisitor, you journeyed with Solas for quite some time,” he says. “And I'd say the Inquisitor, to some degree, feels guilty or responsible for what Solas is doing to the world. So while we're not going to get too far into details about what role they may play, they absolutely are somebody who is going to be interested and invested in the outcome of Rook's journey in The Veilguard.”

[tismtron]

Can you drop some general dating eltingville club member hcs? It doesn’t matter who i genuinely just crave more fanfiction content of any of them

Absolutely I love these ugly loser boys

The Eltingville Club Headcanons

Pete Dinunzio

•Pete is the shortest of the club at 5’7, but the one who grounds everyone else with common sense, Although he is very impulsive himself.

•He was raised mainly by his father and had multiple siblings in his house. Though his father doesn’t support his horror movies or in his words “nerd shit.”

•mainly joined the club cause they are weirder than he is but supports his hobbies and interests so it give him some solace.

•Canonically into horror porn and cannibal flicks. I think he has paraphilia. He thinks cannibalism is very intimate, eating someone so they’re apart of you and all the time and dedication it takes to eat the entire body intrigues him.

•goes broke every Halloween cause he’s buying shit for either his collection or for his room. I like to think his birthday is in October.

•Has anger issues but not to the degree as bill or Josh do,and that comforts him in some way. Makes him feel better about himself. (He’d never tell them that.)

•wants to be covered in tattoos when he’s older, but in reality he’d probably just get five or six on his arms.

•tried to smoke cigarettes but his dad caught him and made him smoke the whole pack.

•his father and siblings harass him the way that some households do when one them picks up a neither hobby and bullies them cause it’s weird.

•very sweet if he likes you. Will show affection in his own way like asking you to watch horror flicks or info dumping about his favorite slashers or the new dvd set he bought.

Jerry Stokes

•Jerry is the voice of reason that no one listens to. He lives with his mother and father as an only child.

•I like to believe his parents are conservative or religious and don’t like when his fantasy interests because they think it’s immoral or something.

•(taking this headcanon from Tahawkydingo on ao3) his parents found his porn stash of fantasy cosplay pinups and they sent him to gay conversion camp.

•Is autistic but his parents deny that he is. vocally stims with his bidibidi bit and hyper fixates on fantasy. Wants to go to a renaissance fair so bad but no one wants to go with him.

• his parents treat him differently after his parents came to terms with him having autism and they unintentionally belittle him, he stays with the club because they don’t baby him like his parents do.

•has watched every fantasy movie from the eighties at least four times.

•avid weezer listener

Bill Dicky

•snarky fuck. Will always try to get the last say in an argument and gets very butt hurt if he doesn’t.

• He lives with his mom and younger sister. His mom has full custody of him so he never sees his father.

•one thing I saw is that Bill is usually the one to throw the first punch besides Josh. I theorize that his dad used to get physical with him and it hasn’t really clicked with him that he was abused and think it’s normal.

•male manipulator by the book definition of antisocial personality disorder in the comics, average smiths listener in the pilot.

• tried to work at gamestop or Blockbuster but either got denied for having expired dvd returns or stole.

Josh levvy

•lives with his mother and father. I think of him as the youngest sibling if he ever had any brothers or sisters.

•His parents are Jewish and if he showered more he’d have natural curls. Without his glasses he can only see blobs of color, his vision is getting worse.

•it’s cannon that he only eats things that have collectibles in them and hates doing it. But I think he’s always been insecure of his body for a long time and is at the point where he doesn’t care what people see him like some tub of lard because his self esteem is low.

•secretly feels that he’d never measure up to the expectations his parents give him so he doubles down.

•His dad used to get physical with him as a kid as a punishment, like belting or smacking him up side the head if he says something wrong. So he got more aggressive when someone made him upside or says something he doesn’t like.

•collects not even for fun, just to have. Because it’s become such a big part of himself he doesn’t know what to do if he stops.

[icestardragonhc]

Cue the obligatory beach day episode!

I miss summer, give me back my 30 degrees celsius.

It's always very fun for me to imagine villians doing silly, fun and mundane stuff. You know, almost like they're just people too.

Cyrus is a Pokevillian that some of my closest friends love very much and I thought it would be entertaining to picture Cyrus and Ghetsis just trying to get along.

They're so different but so are me and my friends. I think they would vibe. Special thanks to @mierulii for always being there for me in the last 6 years. You're an amazing friend and I couldn't have made it this far without you. I hope we can go to the beach together one day <3

[faeriekit]

So, I've been thinking about working in a library. I know you took Library Sciences but what other courses/qualifications did you need, and could you please give me an opinion on why I should/shouldn't go into this field? Thanks

So, firstly, I didn't just take a couple library sciences courses; I had to finish a Master's degree in library and information science after my bachelor's. This was a two-year course if one went full time, which most people do not. Most people spread it out over several years...but I was paying out of pocket and the tuition fees build up the longer you take to finish your degree.

Real talk; it's very hard to break into libraries as a career. The easiest way in is networking. I will always, always, always recommend volunteering at a local library before you decide if this is the life path for you because the idealized work of what a library is supposed to look like almost never matches up with reality. The library is largely patron-facing customer service and possibly event-planning if you end up being roped into providing programming for the library as a responsibility. Most people think you can just sort of hide in the stacks and shush people, which... 😅

All my info is largely going to be US specific since I went to school and work here but working in a library, unless you're in a labor-starved area, is almost always going to be tough monetarily. You are a public servant. The easiest jobs to get in a library are the most labor intensive and may be only available part-time, even if they do not require an MLS or MLIS. Library jobs are chronically in short supply. Some people look for ages before they even land an interview, nevermind actually landing a job they compromise to take. I worked my way up from part time to a library student to a full on librarian, but that took time and resources and stable housing and a Master's degree and money I had saved up from a job where I had very little expenses at the time, AND I did it during the earliest parts of covid where a loooooot of people very swiftly retired. If you want a library career where you have enough money to support yourself long-term, can pay your bills, and get a pension, it is highly likely that you are going to need a Master's Degree in library science. Otherwise, you're going to be in a department where you don't need one but are limited in how far you can rise up ladder without one, like circulation (book movers) tech (tech) or administration (back-end business stuff).

So. Barrier for entry is pretty high.

I love working at the library and everything it entails. It's customer service, but I never have to sell anything to patrons! I love recommending books to kids! I love reading to them! I love visiting schools! I love doing crafts with the kids! I love setting up crafts for the kids!! I love picking out what we do for the next season! I love filling the bubble machine! I love setting up for the library's halloween party, and getting to see all the outfits! I love dressing up! I love seeing the new kids books when they come out! I love my coworkers! I love the building the library is in! I love that I work (relatively) close to home! I love the people I meet and the kids I get to watch grow up!! I see the babies turn into people and get all sassy and playful and start reading different books! I love my job!! (*turns into goo*)

Ahem.

So, between all that and the government pension, there's a lot going for a librarian job. I know other people love other parts of librarianship, like the archivists' satisfaction at maintaining and preserving their collection to the love and empathy adult services has for their adult students and aging patron base. I know that circulation loves being the movers and shakers and arbiters of access for the entire library-- and hell, if it had been financially viable, I would have loved to stay a circ employee. There are other back-end jobs in libraries too, like tech support and administration, although they never really see the patrons or books on the floor.

Ultimately, your career choice is up to you. I just want to let you know the risks before you pursue a library degree, since that's no guarantee it'll get you the job environment you like. Also there are a lot of weird things that happen in libraries— like midway through this post I had to stop because a random lady came up and asked me to start her crochet project...? She had no way of knowing if I even knew how to crochet. She just guessed. Whack.

Anyway, my realest advice is, before making any decision, to volunteer in a library for a while. You'll meet local library workers to network with, get used to the flow of the job, and have something to add to your resume for long-term benefits and maybe a letter of recommendation from the library down the line. Either you'll like it, or you won't! Either way,though, you'll still have something new to your resume.

Good luck! 📚 There's a lot of things to love about libraries, but uh...times is hard lol

[sneez]

adaptations of l'homme qui rit rated according to a) book accuracy b) how much i enjoy them and c) gwynplaine's makeup (in chronological order of release)

das grinsende gesicht/the grinning face (1921), dir. julius herska

accuracy rating: 3/5

reasonably book-accurate with some weird changes like gwynplaine stabbing himself to death onstage which i do not remember from the book i have to say

ned rating: 2/5

ehh it was alright. nothing special but not egregiously bad either. i was not a fan of the conflict introduced between gwynplaine and dea (nor the fact that gwynplaine voluntarily starts an affair with josiana) but it could have been worse (foreshadowing). ursus wears a great hat

makeup rating: 3/5

i wish he was smiling more but it's fine. he is cute :-)

the man who laughs (1928), dir. paul leni

accuracy rating: 3/5

most of the same events happen but not necessarily in the same context or order, which personally i think is fine for a film given that an accurate adaptation could have the potential to be quite confusing or boring at times (also foreshadowing). conrad veidt and mary philbin are overwhelmingly lovely and make me cry. i also wholeheartedly support the altered ending because the actual ending keeps me up at night

ned rating: 10000000/10

this is the best film that has ever been made in the history of the universe, objectively speaking

makeup rating: 4/5

i think this is about as good as it gets without torturing your actor to an unreasonable degree. this is somehow the only gwynplaine who actually looks like he is always laughing, which is remarkable given the title of the book. confining gwynplaine's mutilation to his mouth is a significant divergence, but personally i think it is a wise decision for a visual adaptation (or at least one in which gwynplaine is played by a physically normative actor) given how much work conrad veidt's eyes do in conveying gwynplaine's personality and interiority. i would still love to see an adaptation in which gwynplaine actually looks the way he does in the book, but i can appreciate the difficulties in realising it, so in the meantime i will rotate 1928 gwynplaine lovingly in my mind

l'uomo che ride/the man who laughs (1966), dir. sergio corbucci

accuracy rating: 0/5

what in the goddamn

ned rating: 2/5

actually kind of fun if you can ignore the fact that it's supposed to be an adaptation of l'homme qui rit. also the only adaptation which has given gwynplaine anything close to his terrible book dye-job. points withdrawn however for 'fixing' both his and dea's disabilities in a way which vexes and haunts me

makeup rating: 2.5/5

not even close to a smile but it's alright i guess. i think they were going for 'scary' more than anything else so it doesn't read as gwynplaine to me (not to mention the fact that they changed his name to angelo so he is straight up Just Some Guy)

l'homme qui rit/the man who laughs (1971), dir. jean kerchbron

accuracy rating: 5/5

basically just the book in tv form, which is severely excellent and also slightly boring at times. i enjoy it far more than i resent it but it does make me appreciate how bizarrely structured and paced the book is. i greatly respect how much effort was put into representing the themes and talking points of the book, although the difficulty of translating these to screen comes across in the weirdness of some of them (aristocrat being carried around beneath barrels of wine and making the worst drinking noises imaginable springs to mind). also has by far the best version of gwynplaine's speech to the house of lords (and one of the best gwynplaines in general) and my favourite ursus of all ursuses ever

ned rating: 3.5/5

in my head this is the most wonderful perfect adaptation and then i watch it and i remember how much of it i find mildly uninteresting. if i were only ranking it based on the ursus/dea/gwynplaine segments it would be a 5/5, but there is an awful lot which is not particularly compelling to me, either because it doesn't translate well to the screen or because it highlights how much time hugo spends saying the same thing over and over (affectionate. mostly) or because it is weird. the cinematographer also has a penchant for panning over a large group of people and lingering on their faces one by one, which starts to become very funny once you notice it. my feelings are mixed and i am vexed. it does however get many bonus points for not one but Two (2) ursus and gwynplaine hugs

makeup rating: 3.5/5

pretty good! he still doesn't look like he's smiling but i can see all his teeth (win) and the scars at the corners of his mouth are a neat detail, even if they are not book-accurate. philippe bouclet also does a great job emoting with his big sad wet eyes. bonus points for including the scene in the house of lords when he briefly suppresses his smile

l'homme qui rit/the man who laughs (2012), dir. jean-pierre améris

accuracy rating: 3/5

not bad until the josiana plotline unfolds and then it gets weird and bad and i hate and i don't like it. dea is very cute, gwynplaine is alright, gérard depardieu is ursus

ned rating: 2/5

i did not like this film much but it did have some cute bits which i enjoyed, especially with young gwynplaine and dea at the beginning. ultimately though i found it very flat and remarkably emotionless considering how overwhelmingly emotional the book is. it also just looked ugly, which you would not think would bother me considering how much i enjoyed the 1971 tv series (featuring gwynplaine's bodysuit with a mouth painted on it), but the fakeness of the sets and the weird anachronistic costuming was very distracting, especially gwynplaine's jeans. gwynplaine should not be wearing jeans i don't think

makeup rating: 1/5

rubbish. bad. cowardly. that is a conventionally attractive man with lines drawn on his face. try again and do better next time

человек, который смеется/the man who laughs (?2012), dir. ???

accuracy rating: 5/5

absurdly accurate to the point of including direct quotes from the book in most of the songs, as well as referencing book details like the fun club and the fight between helmsgail and phelem-ghe-madone, which is absurd (positive) in a musical which is less than two hours. gwynplaine and dea are wonderful. during one of dea's songs gwynplaine brings her flowers and then rolls around on the floor holding onto her legs like a sloth. this musical also single-handedly made me care about dirry-moir because the actor playing him does such an incredibly good job. no homo sadly but everything else is outstandingly accurate all things considered

ned rating: 5/5

i love this musical so much i have listened to it several dozen times i love it it is so good you should listen to it it is on youtube here it is very good i promise. visually it's nothing special but the songs are either a) relentless bangers or b) devastating, which is the perfect combination in my humble onion. i have no idea who directed it or starred in it because i can't find any information about it and my russian is not excellent but it is so worth watching. also worth noting that it is all in russian and there are no subtitles, but if you are familiar with the plot it is very easy to follow. excellent wonderful marvellous i love this musical so much (thank you to beloved @elmorinn for making me aware of it :D)

makeup rating: ?/5

the above picture is the best view you get and i still can't see it very clearly so i am withholding my rating. it looks like it's just lines again but i have much more tolerance for a stage play doing that than a film. rank pending

the grinning man (2020), dir. tom morris

accuracy rating: 2/5

definitely recognisable but with so many changes i can't accept it as the same story. i also think that most or all of the changes damage the plot quite significantly (setting it in an alternate reality rather than eighteenth-century england, making ursus dea's biological father, barkilphedro being responsible for everything ever, etc.) but the relationship between gwynplaine and dea was lovely and the cast did a brilliant job

ned rating: 3.5/5

i like it! i enjoy it much more as its own production than an adaptation, but i love the puppetry and it is generally very fun and full of energy. i have only watched it once so far but i would definitely watch it again. labyrinth is also a very good song and i have listened to it many times

makeup rating: 4/5

not book accurate at all but it looks wicked so i am rating it highly for effort and effect. it is also curious that despite defanging almost every other aspect of the story they decided to double down on gwynplaine's trauma by having him wander around his entire life with a giant gaping bleeding wound in his face. did he not already have it bad enough!

[genderqueerdykes]

this may not be your wheelhouse and if so feel free to ignore but: do you know how to get past the sense of imposter syndrome wrt being punk? like. i'm punk, have always been will always be, it's objectively not debatable. but i've had to make some very un-punk decisions (ex. getting a degree and a normie job) in order to survive. and i haven't been well enough to do the work out on the streets or go to the venues in a while now. obviously i didn't magically become a poser, i still know the music, history, fashion, theory, etc... but i still kinda feel like a fraud :/ any advice?

you know, that's a pretty good question, actually, because i've noticed in a lot of alternative scenes, people really like to get uppity and make fun of people who are just getting into it, or may be into it for a while and then move on

i noticed it firsthand when i lived with other punks in a house venue. i saw probably hundreds of people filtering in and out of there over the course of months and a lot of conversations were leftist infighting and it just kinda became the same old garbage over and over again. some people have superiority complexes that make them feel "Above" everyone around them because they are counterculture. it can become a bit tiresome

what i would say, is that you cannot make decisions that line up with your beliefs/politics/etc. all the time. anticapitalists still need to make money. punks very well may need an established career in order to survive. people who live in food deserts have to rely on shitty companies in order to get their groceries and necessities. i don't think that makes anyone 'unpunk', fortunately, because despite how much we despise this capitalist hellhole, we can't just magically exist completely outside of it without engaging in every single thing we oppose

there's no reason why a punk can't be 'formally employed', so to speak, because not everyone is capable of living off of donations or running their own shop, selling zines, selling customized clothing, selling things they've grown ethically and organically, and so on. the thing is, is money moves so fast in capitalism that two weeks can easily break you. most people are one missed paycheck away from the worst situation of their life

as long as you actually follow through with what you believe and stand for in the areas where you can, that's what's important. as long as you behave in a way that doesn't oppress others, support your local community, participate in harm reduction events, or whatever your specific focus is on breaking down the structures firmly built around us to divide us, you are very much a punk.

respect for others, standing up for one's self, and other's when possible in situations where remaining peaceful is not an option, unlearning racism, trans/misogyny, transandrophobia, transphobia, lesbophobia, homophobia, intersexism, biphobia, and other queerphobic beliefs, learning to respect demonized and heavily oppressed people such as people of color, homeless people, addicts, people with personality disorders, people with schizophrenia, people with bipolar disorder, people with DID, people with OCD, people with autism, people with ADHD, and other neurodivergent and mentally ill people, and breaking down other internalized oppressive structures in your own mind to prevent perpetuating it, you've achieved your goal

the thing is is not every punk is a master of punk history, most punks are in the scene to meet with like minded people who very well may have other interests outside of the community that take up more of their time. many people don't have the time to read up on literature and zines because they live transient or busy lives. many punks don't listen to entirely punk music, some don't listen to any at all. i don't listen to a lot of music, due to being autistic and easily overwhelmed by sound, myself, so that is an area that i am not super versed in. i have very basic knowledge from sitting around and listening to other punks and their music, but i'm more focused on activism. but that's exactly the thing:

not every punk is an activist, either. you can wade as far as you personally want to into these waters. there are different kinds of punks, for sure, and that's not a bad thing at all. some folks are really passionate about music and want to spread a message that way, but may not have the time to become involved with local activist organizations. some punks are in it for the art. some are in it because they like each others company and personalities. some people like that there are a lot of trans and queer people in general in the scene so they find it a safe place to meet other queer people. some people like the casual atmosphere and ability to do whatever substances they want with other people in a safe environment without judgment, and around other people who have experiences with these substances. some people literally just dress alternative and like hanging out with other people who do and that's not bad, either.

all of these are okay things

as long as you acknowledge where you're at and not pretend to know more than you really do, you'll be fine. ultimately it means lot of things to a lot of different punks and just like any other identity, every punk will describe it slightly differently. i thought i was an outcast because i was the only real activist in that household, most other folks were there to be around like minded people who hate the way out society is run, and that's totally okay. if that's their vibe, that's their vibe. i can't tell them they're not punk, what would be the point of that? they play in and listen to punk bands. i'd be an idiot to tell them they're not really punk, you know?

you are the one who defines what punk looks like for you, as it is your experience. don't worry about someone else bothering you about it unless you've genuinely stepped out of line and said something potentially fascist, racist, queerphobic, etc. be open to genuine criticism but if someone gives you shit for not knowing some obscure detail about punk history it's not worth your time. i literally knew a punk girl who ran an anarchist reading club and she herself didn't read the book and just listened to everyone else talk about it and discerned her opinion from there.

punks come in all kinds- however:

THE ONLY WAY TO NEVER, EVER BE PUNK IS TO BE A NAZI, COP, OR OTHER KIND OF FASCIST. queerphobes, abelists, racists and their enablers aren't welcome either.

that's the main takeaway, if you ask me. i hope that helps, i have imposter syndrome with a few mental health things so i understand, it's a pain in the ass. if you have any more questions feel free to ask!

[dungeons-and-dragon-age]

ok sorry i'm just. ????

rant and spoilers ahead because i gotta yell into the void a little

first of and most of all. WHY does it sound like Solas front and center of everthing now??? Including both Inky's and Rook's stories/motivations???? Like okay i understand that Solas will inevitably be important in Rook's story and that's chill! We knew he was gonna play a part in this story! But why do they make it sound like half or Rook's purpose is just there to further Solas's story/character

and it quickly becomes clear that Rook will have their own unique relationship with Solas, as the Inquisitor did before them. I think what's been fun for us, too, is trying to build Rook as kind of almost a mirror of Solas.

Epler also acknowledges that the Inquisitor “obviously has a very personal relationship with Solas,” one that will need to be reckoned with in The Veilguard.

“And I'd say the Inquisitor, to some degree, feels guilty or responsible for what Solas is doing to the world. So while we're not going to get too far into details about what role they may play, they absolutely are somebody who is going to be interested and invested in the outcome of Rook's journey in The Veilguard.”

Why. are you telling us how our Inquisitor is supposed to feel about this?? When you play DAI you agree to play The Inquisitor, yes, but you don't agree to play someone who Cares About Solas. Like. Yes. I get that he is important. That much has been clear since Trespasser. And i'm ok with that! But how come you say "this is a game about Thedas and a world in conflict" and then also talk like this story is About Solas, Actually.

The other thing i absolutely do not get and do not like. At All

Those decisions are: who your Inquisitor romanced (with the options gender- and lineage-locked in the same way that they were in Inquisition), whether or not you disbanded the Inquisition, and whether you vowed to stop Solas or save him.

?????

No "who drank from the WoS"? No "who is Divine"? No "does OGB Kieran exist"? No "is Hawke alive" (Varric is there. SURELY he cares about this a lot)? No "what happened to the Mages & Templars"? No "were Wardens banned from the south"? Arent't those uh. Really Relevant Decisions???? WHY is one of the whole grand three (3) decisions that carry over if Inky wants to save Solas or not. I mean ok i guess i get it cus that was The Big Decision TM at the end of Trespasser but again. Why is that the big thing that matters. out of all the things that SHOULD matter.

There's not as many decisions you have made up to this point that have an impact on what's happening in Northern Thedas.

But it’s also part of the advantage of moving the setting up to Northern Thedas, Epler says, with the prior games in the series taking place in Southern Thedas, a significantly different region both geographically and sociopolitically.

Uh. Yeah they do. See above points and also some that i forgot probably. Northern and Southern Thedas don't operate independently from one another that's not how this works. Especially again with things like the WoS or the Divine decision. Also half our companions from the other games are from the north?? Like yes ok i know get what you mean kinda and it's true to an extent but not like this

for one, the team focused on choices that they felt they could react to meaningfully – not just a cameo or one-liner.

“There's never a sense of, ‘Oh, that decision doesn't exist.’ But maybe we don't touch on it in this particular title,”

The. Cameos and one-liners are what make it special though?? You can't say "We want those stories to be personal." and then say you're not making any of those small decisions matter. And i don't mean matter as in having A Big Impact TM but i know that a lot of us LIVE for those small tiny nods to previous decisions that make the world feel actually alive and connected. I understand that we can't have full on-screen cameos or questlines or whatever for every little tidbit but not even. idk. Background convos about what's going on in Orzammar? Gossip about Ferelden's monarch? A line from Varric about Bartrand? Dunno man. Again not to mention the Big Things like Kieran. or the Well of Sorrows consequences. Or the Divine (which. yknow. is directly relevant everywhere except maybe Tevinter??). Those were always the things that made importing a worldstate so charming! because you could see the small little impacts that you have on the world. The tiny things like the line about the pigeons in Ferelden in DA2 or a wartable mission with Wade and Herren in DAI are so so special to me

[togglesbloggle]

You Aren't Supposed to Win

There's a species of post on Tumblr that's not uncommon: explainers about neurotypical social interactions for the benefit of the neurodivergent. Others, in an adjacent genre, are vent-posts or bewildered people expressing exasperation and impatience with neurotypical social rituals. And these are usually fine as far as they go, but there's a sort of deficit or hole in them that I think tends to go un-addressed.

Basically, a lot of these explainers are very reasonably helping readers to navigate a system for some desired outcome (getting a job, finding a date, or other such things), but with the understanding that a failure to get the desired outcome is a failure of the system. And that's... only kind of true.

Neurotypical social interactions can be a very complex mix of collaborative and competitive enterprises. The ratio between those things can shift on a dime, it can be really hard to figure out where on the spectrum you are at any given moment, and this is the system working as intended. Or at least, as the players in the game intend, which isn't always quite the same thing.

I don't want to overstate this too much; standard social interactions aren't a fight to the death or anything. Typical examples are more like a preponderance of cooperation, but with some jockeying for a larger share of the rewards that follow from a shared project. Or, perhaps, attempts to spend the least effort in a group project, while receiving a full share of the reward.

The thing about this is, the presence of an antagonistic element within these interactions means that perfect legibility is opposed to most participants' goals for the interaction. There is a degree of confusion and uncertainty that is quite deliberate and instrumentally useful. If a particular partnership is going to pivot to 'pvp mode', it is absolutely in each participants' interest to be the first one to defect, and to mask that defection for as long as possible; perfect transparency prevents them from being able to do so, and they can and will interpret requests for perfect transparency as being hostile acts.

At the same time, admitting any of this is also a loss of strategic advantage during adversarial interactions, so it's one of the hardest things to get people to admit. It's even hard for people to notice that they're doing it, because evolution favors mentalities that keep as much of this as possible subconscious; it's easier to defect without warning if you never consciously think of yourself as defecting at all. So explicit discussions of this are quite rare. (There is, however, an entire genre of party games designed to bring them to the fore and let people show off their capacity for adversarial play among shifting alliances and uncertainty, so it's more 'open secret' than 'forbidden lore'.)

The upshot of all of this is, the desire for an explicit, legible system of social interactions that can be exploited for reliable outcomes- can often be a desire for power over others, in a way that I don't think the proponents fully realize. The fantasy of people just doing what you want is a powerful one for everybody, neurodivergent and neurotypical alike. And this isn't an unreasonable fantasy! it's really not fun to be surrounded by people pursuing their own interests at the expense of yours!

But it's important to realize that a lot of the hard work of aligning those values and making a system of interactions 'purely collaborative', such that everybody will be doing their best to help you succeed regardless of skill level or quirks of neurotype, is a really hard problem that nobody has yet been able to solve. And until we get there, a system in which you reliably get everything you want, and which you navigate with perfect confidence, is one that subordinates the people around you.

[ravensvirginity]

Titans #15 Review

Oh my god. Where do I even begin.

To start with my one and only positive: the art is gorgeous. Lucas Meyer is the best artist the Titans have had in ages, and his new Raven design really delivered. I'm so sad that it appears that the artist who'll be taking over for him in #16 is undoing his design changes, I think it's a massive shame. I did appreciate the detail of Raven's white cloak design having rings on her index fingers, but it feels a little pointless without the lore of Azar's rings to back it up.

Now, the negatives: literally everything else about this comic. This comic fails to deliver on an eight issue arc in any kind of satisfying way, has a bizarre and out of character tone, and severely misunderstands the lore of its main villain. They literally defeated Trigon with the power of friendship. Maybe that could work in Teen Titans Go, but in a main timeline DC comic? What?

First, the demon Raven stuff. Gar saying that demon Raven and regular Raven aren't two different people--yeah, obviously. The severe degree of separation between demon Raven and regular Raven has been one of the big issues of this arc, and this conclusion is as unsatisfying as the rest of it. Raven and her demon side being able to talk face to face isn't new, but them being two separate people with separate physical bodies who can operate completely independently of each other--while there is some precident for this, to me it's a very strange writing choice and misses the point of a demon Raven arc.

The original idea of Raven and her demon side was that her demon side is her. It's all the worst instincts she inherited from Trigon locked up and carefully controlled. When Trigon takes control of her and turns her into her demon form, everything she's repressed, both good and bad, is released. Raven still having a soft spot for the Titans in her demon form makes sense; she's still Raven, just corrupted by Trigon into something she isn't. Raven deciding to stop being evil (not that she even really was) and going back to normal from one brief conversation with her teammate does not, and is really anticlimactic.

It's just such a waste of the story's potential. If you don't want to commit to Raven being the villain of the story, don't do a demon Raven arc! It's possible to do a Trigon story without Raven being evil, I don't get why they didn't just do that. None of the drama with Raven being evil was particularly well executed, and all it seemed to do was drag the comic on longer and longer with nothing actually happening, because they were unwilling to make Raven actually do anything villanous.

All that pales in comparison to how they defeated Trigon. I don't think I've ever seen such blatant disregard for previous canon. As Raven, powered up by the other Titans, fights Trigon, Gar narrates as follows:

"I doubt Trigon has ever been in a fight. An actual fight. With someone his own size and power level. Never had to face someone like Nightwing one-on-one. Never tried to stand while being pinned by the power of Donna Troy's will. Never been blasted... with a giant-sized Apokoliptian blast from Cyborg. And never, ever... felt the full force of a Tamaranean hit powered by the stars."

WHAT?

This comic canonically takes place in the same timeline as the New Teen Titans. There are many homages to the New Teen Titans. It has been made very clear that the team started as the New Teen Titans, and then after many, many years of crazy comic book history the team reformed as the Titans of this run.

The first ever Trigon arc that introduces him and Raven as characters takes place in the first six issues of the New Teen Titans, and culminates in Trigon being defeated by the Titans and thrown into an interdimensional prison. I can't stress this enough: literally every single one of the things Gar said have never happened to Trigon happen in that fight. Donna uses her lasso to dampen Trigon's will, in combination with Raven and Arella's empathic abilities. Wally rips a hole through the fabric of reality to throw Trigon into, and Kory and Vic connect their powers to amplify their blasts to throw Trigon into the interdimensional rift. The whole thing is coordinated and managed by Dick Grayson (who was still Robin at the time).

Gar was there when all this happened. There is no reason for him to not know that this happened. The only explanation is Tom Taylor doesn't know, or he doesn't care. This would be disappointing for any comic book run, but it leaves an especially sour taste in my mouth for this to happen in a run that's so built on NTT homages. It's clear that the writing could not care less about the comic it was inspired by.

And then Garth causes Trigon to have a heart attack. Okay, that was just stupid. Admittedly, I did think the page of Raven stabbing Trigon was cool (again, the art is really the only saving grace here), but her saying "Fuck you, Dad"? Seriously? An ongoing problem in this run has been the dialog feeling janky and too much like lines from a generic superhero movie, and this line embodies that very well. I'm not opposed to swearing in comic books, but to me, this is not the right time for it. It doesn't fit the moment, and I think it's quite out of character for Raven, even if the sentiment behind it isn't.

And then Trigon isn't even dead? What does "Demons don't die. They just fade away." even mean?? Is he dead or not? Will he come back tomorrow or in a thousand years? It's such a strange, confusing letdown of an ending.

I didn't have high hopes for this issue, but it was somehow worse than I could ever have imagined. I'm so glad that this run is getting a new writer. Here's hoping that the coming issues will actually feel like a team book, and that the decades of lore and characterization of these beloved characters will actually be considered during writing.