#despair is poison

[headspace-hotel]

Marks is an expert in Chinese history, which tracks, since his broad summary of world events focuses a lot on China. Pre-Columbian and colonial North America isn't where is his expertise lies.

Since the discussion of North American ecology is a short aside supporting a broader point about the whole globe, it makes sense that Marks would not do extensive research on North American ecology specifically.

Furthermore, some published academic writing making claims roughly in the range of what Marks is suggesting does exist—there is a paper suggesting that the gigantic bison herds seen in the 1800's were considerably elevated above the animals' usual population due to Native American population declines. (I can't remember anything about this paper except that it exists, sorry.)

But that's not the claim Marks is making, and that's not the paper he is citing. Marks has an over-arching point (that human population increase results in dramatic decline of wildlife) supported by referencing the overkill hypothesis (the idea that the end-Pleistocene extinctions were caused by humans hunting the animals to extinction).

Cronon is among the most prominent environmental historians dealing with North America, so Marks just...cites Cronon's book for his claim that animal populations were flourishing in North America because of the mass death of Native Americans, without bothering to read what Cronon's book says.

Maybe he assumes Cronon must agree with him because the idea feels right and makes sense. Maybe he just assumes no one will check.

What if we consider the means and ends of these ideas more closely? I am starting to see that there is a bit of a tradition for white writers to blame Native Americans for environmental destruction. The way Cronon references Native American participation in the fur trade implies that there has been a trend in academic writing to blame Native Americans for the decline of the beaver. I read excerpts in a book about bison from white writers blaming Native Americans for the near extinction of the bison.

And I truly cannot count how many times the idea of using traditional ecological knowledge, or that Native cultural attitudes and viewpoints might be important, has been summarily shut down using Paul S. Martin's "overkill" hypothesis. "Well the Native Americans had no problem genociding all the animals when they first came either so they're not perfect angels either, eh?"

Everyone writing in this field is so eager to throw a punch at the straw man of a "Native American noble savage that lives in total harmony with nature and never never never could have negative impacts on an ecosystem because there is something inherently special about native americans that makes them enlightened to primitive forest wisdom" when this is not actually the alternative being proposed to "humans are an inherently destructive scourge."

This straw man is an attractive target, I think, because the suggestion or possibility that humans aren't inherently exploitative and bad for the rest of the biosphere implies a responsibility: to learn from 'other' cultures, to change ourselves and our dominating culture, to develop a bond with the ecosystem and love it without the armor of disconnection, without the bedrock of certainty, without inoculating ourselves against the fear and hurt of loss by preemptively grieving what is not yet lost and what is lost but can be found again.

Developing a grand theory of humans as tragic villains of Earth's biosphere, doomed by the narrative, is comforting because it doesn't require us to change. The possibility that human societies have followed a wide variety of patterns in terms of their relationship with the biosphere, instead of unilaterally succumbing to exploitative and destructive behaviors, is anathema to the self-pity of doomers. The possibility that humans belong to Earth's family and have their own niche, implies a possibility that by putting in the work we can heal our relationships with the rest of the biosphere. It implies that the other life forms of Earth would miss us if we disappeared.

Most sinister of all, it lightens the weight of the tragedy of genocide, war, and disease, providing evil comfort where the only just and right response is to scream: At least the decline in population means a lowered impact on the environment...Marks even references a researcher who theorized that the Little Ice Age occurred because of the mass death of Native Americans, cooling the Earth before global warming became a concern. Why make this connection? Amidst events like Covid, the notion that humans need a "cull" of their population, that there will be some kind of monstrous silver lining, creeps about.

Is "We are beyond the Earth's carrying capacity, we can't support our whole population" a warning, or an excuse? How long before it becomes a reason not to act—a reason not to value every life?

okay. so.

i'm reading this book The Origins of the Modern World by Robert Marks

and even from the beginning i was getting this weird feeling from it. I'm always really wary of books that are broad overviews of history that claim to explore big theory-of-everything explanations for very broad phenomena, because history is unbelievably complex and there is so much disagreement between historians about everything.

But anyway I come to this section (in the first chapter)

This writer's opinion is that the Americas seemed so abundant when English settlers first arrived because the Native Americans had been mostly killed, and as a result, the wildlife increased greatly in numbers and forests overtook the farms, creating what appeared to be a natural paradise.

I'm immediately suspicious of this paragraph because arguing that the mass death of Native Americans was good for nature seems really contradictory to the research I've explored, on top of being just...disgusting.

But it doesn't sound right in regards to how ecosystems work either. If populations of animals had recently exploded after millennia of being limited by a major predator, it would cause the plants to be overwhelmed by the herbivore populations. The land would be stripped barren and eroded, and soon the animals would be weak and starving.

So I thought to myself, huh, a citation. I will look at the citation and see what it says.

It's a book called Changes in the Land by William Cronon, who seems to be one of the most important and respected guys in his field. I thought, I have to find this book. So I did, I found the book, and spent like an hour reading through it.

And what I discovered, is that Cronon's book directly contradicts what Marks says in the paragraph that cites Cronon?!

So basically this entire book, Changes in the Land, is a detailed exploration of how the arrival of English settlers, the decline of Native American populations, and the slow transition to European farming and land use practices caused increasing degradation to the ecosystem, beginning very early on in colonization.

Changes in the Land quotes a great array of documents from the colonial period where settlers observed the soil becoming depleted, animals disappearing, and the climate itself becoming more hostile even in the 1600's. It's actually a really fascinating book.

Cronon tells us that Native Americans created lush and abundant conditions for wild animals by causing a "mosaic" of habitats, with different areas representing various stages of ecological succession. With this great diversity in habitats, and lots of transitional "edges" between them, the prosperity of the animal life was maximized. This was intentional, and really a type of farming.

The book essentially explains how European settlers couldn't recognize Native American life ways as "agriculture," they thought the land was just supernaturally abundant all by itself because of its inherent nature, and yet almost immediately after settlers came, the abundance of the land degraded and vanished. The settlers cut down vast amounts of trees, which caused erosion, which destroyed the river and stream ecosystems and starved the soil of nutrients. Destruction of forest caused less rain, and more extreme temperatures. It became a vicious cycle where the settlers had to abuse the land more and more just to survive.

The spiral pulled in Native American communities too, forcing them to turn to more exploitative means of survival like the fur trade, (which depleted the beaver population, which caused the decline of beaver ponds, which harmed the whole forest). It describes how the changing ecosystems left Native Americans with no choice but to turn to European practices for survival, which in turn depleted the land even further.

Even I was surprised to learn just how early on environmental disaster set in, and the incredible extent of it. English farming practices literally reshaped the map of New Haven between the 17th and 18th centuries:

To return to Marks, though...Marks' statement in the excerpt, where he says the "abundance" of animals continued throughout the 19th century, is blatantly false according to the source HE CITES.

Deer were becoming scarce in New England by the 1690's. It was so bad by 1718 that deer hunting was forbidden for 3 years at that time, and by 1800, deer were almost extirpated from New England. The book explains on another page that wild turkeys became so rare that a farmer's manual from the time said their domesticated turkeys were from Turkey—settlers had no opportunity to see a wild turkey and no idea they existed.

Marks is supporting his statement using a source entirely dedicated to contradicting the exact thing he's saying! It's unbelievable.

How does this happen? Did Marks just have his own opinion and insert a famous book that seemed to be on the subject as support, without reading it?

I'm thinking now of all the times I've read a book and seen a citation on a statement and unconsciously thought "oh, well it seems there is evidence, so it must be reliable" when actually, something like this was happening. The array of ways misinformation can be propagated and never be found out is terrifying.

[foe-paw]

YOU THOUGHT THAT YOU COULD OUTSMART THE VERY THING THAT RUNS THE BLOOD OF YOUR KIND?

[short666bread]

post-argument, self-indulgent, wallow-y, catastrophic/vindictive self-harm fantasy, he’s so normal

[tropicalcontinental]

Walking in a Winter Wonderland

[g0nta-g0kuhara]

I'm still thinking about that post from earlier because, really, as someone who has been into DR for far too long at this point, it is tiring and disheartening to see new fans embarrassed or nervous to post. I can't tell you how many times Ive seen fan posts couched with captions like "sorry I like DR now" or "this game sucks lol' or "I hated dr but I like x." And like, I get it, I really do. I felt that way too when I first joined the fandom, and obviously there is a lot to criticize about this series. But it is sad to see so much apprehension talking about liking something or a part of something that you feel the need to add negativity like that to an otherwise positive post. And its exhausting to see as a fan when you have to see it over and over and over again.

This isn't even an in-fandom problem which makes it kinda hard to do anything about too? Almost everyone who posts like this is new to the fandom or just passing through. It's just DR's reputation as "completely irredeemable trash media" that makes people feel that way, and its sad. I just wish people who are clearly feeling genuine positive emotions about DR could let themselves feel those things without the fear of being sent to tumblr hell for the sin of liking a piece of media that's not perfect.

[emotional-mess-in-distress]

Drdtober day 1: hitmen/assassins

I'm not gonna do every day of this challenge but you'll see me here and there !

[simplegenius042]

Music Monday, WIP Wednesday & Last Line

Tagged by @cassietrn and @voidika

Tagging @imogenkol @inafieldofdaisies @adelaidedrubman @shellibisshe @aceghosts @socially-awkward-skeleton @noodlecupcakes @josephseedismyfather @icecutioner @derelictheretic @shallow-gravy @direwombat @strangefable @rhettsabbott @josephslittledeputy @cloudofbutterflies92 @skoll-sun-eater @carlosoliveiraa @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @raresvtm @softtidesworld @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @florbelles @minilev @yokobai @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @justasmolbard @alypink @thesingularityseries @nightwingshero and @lulu2992 + anyone else who'd like to join.

Got songs for The UnTitledverse, Wings And Horns and A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore, with a snippet for a new FC5 The Silver Chronicles WIP as well as a last line for You Make My Heart Go Doki Doki Literature Club!. You can listen to the songs and read the WIPs snippets below:

Legend is important. It's part of history and culture. It should always be preserved in the present to better understand our past to make way to the future. Now many of my series divulge into legends and myths and old stories. Some of them outright make reverence to events long passed (the Extermination Purge Wars, the Big Bangs, the fall of the Houses of the Old Gods and the foundation the Time Bureau Authority, etc). Sometimes all that was in the past emerges into the present (with the likes of the Arachnoids, Exterminators, the Old Kin and more). However, one historical text in my series is the abolishment of the (while benevolent, very flawed) Soulmate System, which my Original Work Wings And Horns is set in. The plot is that more and more mortals are being discovered without soulmarks (which come in the form of marks, initials, countdowns, etc, depending on the person and timeline), so the New Gods send Archangel Metatron and an Angel of Death cadet, Azriel, to investigate the phenomenon to see whether it is natural or manufactured. Metatron wants to preserve and fix the system because he believes mortals require it, meanwhile Azriel just wants the credit so her soul can be reincarnated at an earlier date. The duo behind the soulmark removals is a Sloth Demon by the name of Xiang Ba'al and his adopted daughter, a Sinner's soul by the name of Jezebel. This cat and mouse chase is what ultimately dictates the decision the New Gods are debating; should mortals require on the guidance on something as small as love? Or should mortals find the love of their life on their own, a small step to gifting them a responsibility that had drastically the status quo beforehand thousands of years ago; that being, Free Will?

"Legends never die When the world is calling you Can you hear them screaming out your name? Legends never die."

"They never lose hope when everything's cold And the fighting's near." "It's deep in their bones They'll ride into smoke when the fire is fierce." "Oh, pick yourself up 'cause

Legends never die Legends never die Legends never die Legends never die!"

"Legend never dies They're written down in eternity But you'll never see the price it costs The scars collecting all of their lives."

"When everything's lost They pick up their hearts and avenge defeat Before it all starts They suffer through harms to touch and dream." "Whoa, pick yourself up 'cause

Legends never die Legends never die Legends never die Legends never die!"

"Legends never die." "When the world is calling out your name." "Begging you to fight." "Oh, oh, oh, pick yourself up Once more, pick yourself up 'cause

Legends never die Legends never die Legends never die Legends never die!"

"Legends never die."

Walking Fate is a fic series in The UnTitledverse based in Telltale's The Walking Dead video game. The fic classically follows (most) of the game/s, but does diverge a bit off with pivotal focus on Clementine and an OC of mine whose the runaway son of Darling Enterprises, a multi-business juggernaut, Malcrum Darling, and their relationship. They're definitely not "tragic star-crossed lovers". I'd never do such a thing in The Walking Dead universe. Here's a song about Malcrum's feelings towards Clementine that's definitely in no shape or form supposed to be interpreted as inno- I mean twisted. Enjoy!

"Hey, he-ey-ey, he-he-hey

Your lipstick stains On the front lobe of my left side brains I knew I wouldn't forget you And so I went and let you blow my mind

Your sweet moonbeam The smell of you in every single dream I dream I knew when we collided You're the one I have decided who's one of my kind

Hey, soul sister Ain't that Mr. Mister on the radio, stereo The way you move ain't fair you know Hey, soul sister I don't wanna miss a single thing you do, tonight

Hey, he-ey-ey, he-he-hey

Just in time I'm so glad you have a one track mind like me You gave my life direction A game show love connection we can't deny

I'm so obsessed My heart is bound to beat right out my untrimmed chest I believe in you Like a virgin, you're Madonna And I'm always gonna wanna blow your mind.

Hey, soul sister Ain't that Mr. Mister on the radio, stereo The way you move ain't fair you know Hey, soul sister I don't wanna miss a single thing you do, tonight."

Throughout A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore, one universal rule is applied; it doesn't matter you are. From a vault dweller who drew the short straw to a psychotic resident of Vault 76 whose a bit too obsessed with wanting to kill her neighbors. A talking Deathclaw to a Ghoul addicted to chems. A brother who wants to uphold the morals his mother taught him in the Wasteland to his amoral sister who kicks old people people and harasses the less fortunate because she's from a wealthy crime family. Because in the end... they have to stand up to Arcane Urias. (Those poor fuckers are gonna die LOL!!!). Because I guess it's the right to do (in the context of self-preservation against the threat of annihilation).

"Up in the morning, up in the evening Pickin' down clocks when the birds get back to eat Oh, to eat

Up on the mountain, down in the king's lair Pushing these boxes in the heat of the afternoon Oh, afternoon

We were never welcome here We were never welcome here at all No

It's who we are, doesn't matter if we've gone too far Doesn't matter if it's all okay Doesn't matter if it's not our day

Oh, won't you save us, what we are Don't look clear, it's all uphill from here Oh-oh

Up in the attic, down in the cellar Lost in a static, coming back for more Oh, for more

Out with the reason, in with the season Taking down names in my book of jealousy Jealousy

We were never welcome here We were never welcome here at all No!"

An long FC5 WIP for The Silver Chronicles, a new one at that, one I'm naming after the lyrics of David Kushner's "Daylight"; because David Kushner and his songs fit The Silver Chronicles on a scary level. Anyway, the WIP is called Oh, I Love It And I Hate It At The Same Time. You And I Drink The Poison From The Same Vine. Hiding All Our Sins From The Daylight... also known as "the fic where Silva and Paul survive the Tumultite Massacre together and their father/daughter relationship worsens into co-dependence in Montana". Where's Elsa and Persephone at? Well, they'll arrive in the later half of the fic... along with Kamski. Despite the fact their relationship not being "gonna kill you for hurting me even though you were good once", this is far from a good and healthy outcome for both Silva and Paul. In spite of this, they make a dangerous duo (as expected of the two), something the Seeds kind of suspect when they meet them. Enjoy being as lost as the Seeds are in this scene snippet below when Paul interrupts them meeting the Muse herself at a social gathering Pre-Reaping. [Would like to add that the WIP is fairly new, and I'm still working on this scene, and may make a few changes in the near future when I have the time. Expect some mistakes]:

When the question left Joseph's mouth, he felt a pain clutch his shoulder.

With a surprised hitch of his breath, he glanced down to gloved fingers that dug into his shoulder blade with an astonishing unnatural amount of strength.

"Her padre, of course," the soft gleeful voice of the hand's owner answered from beside him, the tone sickeningly sweet.

The stranger's head faced Joseph, his eyes closed to Joseph's seeking blue. His lips curved up in a polite and cheerful smile, one that should be dripping with honey.

The man's eyes briefly opened to reveal burning yellow eyes, bordering on an intense gold. Joseph could not shake the feeling that he's seen those eyes before. A vision perhaps?

Joseph felt himself tense as he recognized the way this man looked at him; the way John sometimes gazed upon the Sinners. A predator that has targeted its prey. And it was Joseph who was already in his clutches.

The man blinked, and the inhuman hue was gone. Instead, a pale hazel resided in its stead. He drifted his eyes away from Joseph, locking with the oblivious grey of the deputy that heralded the coming of the Collapse.

An inexplicable dread coiled in his gut when the man's features genuinely lightened at the sight of his family's judge.

"Ah, il mio piccolo Boa!" he greeted with a beaming grin, letting go of Joseph's aching shoulder to push past him, swiftly making his way to Silva to the Seed's collective daze. The man wrapped his arms over Silva's body, embracing the slightly shorter woman. She seemed delighted by his unexpected appearance.

They both pulled away, though gloved hands remained on the other's arms. The man, though a stranger to the crowd around her, seemed to be a familiar face to Silva. Joseph watched the stranger's hand glide caressing fingers across her dark hair affectionately, following the slivers of the dyed silver trails that reached to her braid, "And how are you fairing this fine hour?"

Silva graced the question with a smile; not the formal and polite smile that served to keep a front up to strangers, but one with an undeniable sincerity shining through.

"Hola to you too, Paul," Silva returned with bemusement, "I was just making some new friends. What brings you over?"

From behind Paul, Joseph could see the man's head tilt. Through the abrupt gesture, Silva's features suggested she understood the meaning, "Um, amigos, Paul."

"Ah," Paul seemed to understood, sneaking an obvious glance towards Joseph and his siblings. There was no trace of gold in those hazel eyes, and the intensity lesser than when he locked eyes with Joseph, but the suspicion directed towards them held a sharp edge to it. Paul let another word roll down his tongue, but the tone matched his gaze, "Amici."

In spite of the growing uneasiness, Joseph willed himself to keep a calm front. He was unsure why Paul off-put him. Joseph regarded the man; his stature was slight taller than Silva's, but similar to Joseph's own height. He was older than all of them, including Jacob; perhaps a decade older. His hair was blonde- or rather, dyed blonde, as Joseph noted the light brown at the sides of his head. His complexion wasn't too dissimilar from Silva's own, maybe deeper.

Joseph took note of the few faded scarring scarcely scattered around his face, and like Silva's, time had laid its healing hands on Paul's own wounds.

Joseph paused his observation, about to make introductions with the askant man when John stepped forward first.

"Yes, we were giving our compliments to Silva for the couscous salad you've brought. She was just telling us it was a co-opted effort," John stated with a grin, one Joseph's had become accustomed to over the years. John's move peaked Paul's interest, his suspicion replaced with curiosity. With his audience captured, Joseph watched approvingly as John continued, a hand outstretched, "I don't believe we've met mister...?"

Recognition shined in Paul's eyes, though it was swept away with a grin bigger than John's as his gloved hand grasped John's in a steady shake, "Yellowjack. But please, just call me Paul. I've always felt the term "mister" gives off the impression I'm married, or worse, boring."

Jacob raised a brow, though refrained from commenting as John replied when letting go of Paul's hand, "Noted. So, are you a friend of Silva's or family?"

Paul shared a glance with Silva and replied, "Family. I'm her padre. I've taken care of her for a long time."

Joseph focused on both Silva and Paul; he couldn't find anything indistinguishably shared between both, though he considered that Silva might just take after her mother than Paul. However, he didn't discard the possibility that Paul was Silva's adoptive father rather than her blood relative.

He kept his thoughts to himself though; reasoning that bringing up the question wouldn't be appropriate so early now. Especially if there's a layer of deception underneath Paul's relation with Silva; he didn't want to unintentionally compromise her safety if Paul held more sin than Joseph already suspected he did.

Silva spoke up, grabbing everyone's attention as she pointed out, "You know Paul, you never answered my question."

Paul seemed to stiffen; clearly a dramatic display rather than serious, as Paul finally answered Silva, "Well, you see, I had caught up with good ol' Virgil before he had to run off for his own business and I saw you speaking to these truffatori impopolari, quindi volevo solo controllarti. You know?"

Joseph and Jacob shared a glance; none of them could interpret the words Paul had sputtered out, though Joseph relaxed when Silva gave Paul a soft smile, "I'm grateful for your concern. But I've got this handled. Gracias, though."

Paul relaxed his stiffness, and Silva brought his attention back towards them, "Now how about some introductions?"

"Great idea," Paul agreed, hazel scanning across the four siblings, "How about we go oldest to youngest?"

Jacob's mouth thinned, blue eyes narrowed as he scrutinized Paul with harsh judgement. Joseph watched as his brother scanned the older man's black and yellow attire. It was flaunting a level of wealth, typical of someone who indulged in vanity. However, that didn't sit right with Joseph. He decided to dwell on it later as he watched Paul and Jacob.

Paul glanced to Jacob, and after a pause, he leaned closer, "Let's start with you ragazzone."

Jacob stared down Paul, who was an inch or two shorter than the red-head. He exhaled out an annoyed huff, and gruffly stated, "Name's Jacob."

Paul hummed and straightened up his posture, hazel eyes trailing Jacob's forest green jacket and body. His eyes seemed to linger on the American flag, Jacob's burns and, oddly enough, his biceps more often. Paul clicked his tongued and nodded his head approvingly, "That checks out. But man, sei una delizia per i miei occhi."

Silva had a bemused expression at Paul's words. Jacob, though, raised a brow, "Mind sharing on what's on your mind?"

Paul had snapped out of his trance, and he swiftly blurted out, "Oh, I just said you looked good, is all."

Paul's attention hastily turned to John and Joseph. He looked between the two, but when the older man focused on him, Joseph witnessed his cheer drop abundantly when their eyes met.

The cold dread surfaced once more. The dead-eyed scrutiny the older man reserved for Joseph alone alarmed him. Joseph could not understand Paul's behavior. Neither could he recall any cases where he could have slighted the man, despite this being their first meeting. He'd never seen Paul in any of his visions, only Silva.

Regardless, Joseph chose to retaliate with a gentle greeting, "My name's Joseph. My family and I run the chapel over on the island by the Henbane."

"Oh yeah, I know," Paul calmly told him, all the playfulness gone, "You're the head of the Project at Eden's Gate, correct?"

Joseph curtly nodded in confirmation, and Paul continued, "Yes, I've heard quite a lot about you. Folks around here always have something to say about your little project."

Joseph's lips thinned, disappointment resonating in his chest. So the sinners lies are spreading swiftly. He was displeased by this knowledge, but he resolved to help Paul see the light. If not for his own soul, then the sake of his daughter's.

John stepped in, interrupting the exchange, "All good things, one would hope."

Paul turned attentively to John with an upbeat rejuvenation, disregarding Joseph, "Well, they can't certainly be all bad now, can they?"

Paul's change in demeanor reminded Joseph of John; both hid their emotions behind a carefully crafted mask and would only reveal their true feelings to those they liked or trusted. However, Paul had more self-control over his emotions and mannerisms.

"And I don't believe you shared your name," Paul pointed out to John.

"John. And if I may, we'd encourage you and your daughter to come for at least one sermon," John invited. Joseph smiled at John's attempt to salvage Paul's soul.

The man in question gave a brief glance to Silva, who shrugged, before returning to John and saying, "Preferirei di no."

John waited for Paul to specify but the latter's attention shifted to their final sibling. Joseph caught a flash of an offended scowl on John's face, so Joseph reached a calming hand on his younger brother's shoulder. It worked, the scowl lost in a practiced exhale.

"Oh, look at this, they have a sorella Silva," Paul said with a grin as he stepped closer to the shorter Faith. Silva narrowed her eyes suspiciously at her father.

Admittedly, so had Joseph.

"What's your name?" Paul asked. Faith shifted, hands behind her back as a delighted smile stretched across her lips with an answer, "It's Faith."

"Faith," Paul repeated her name, seeming to break it down before giving a small bow, adding with sincerity, "A powerful name for a powerful woman. It suits you."

Paul's compliment had three separate effects from what Joseph could see; it had flattered Faith, who thanked Paul for his kind words. It had annoyed John, who rolled his eyes at the exchange.

And it had concerned Joseph, at least as the Father; while he had entrusted Faith in a role that required her to attract converts to their flock, he was weary of those with perverse sins that would embolden them to act on certain depravities.

There had been minor incidents that had occurred, at least in earlier years, though Faith had shown a strength and belief that always reaffirmed him in his decision to bring her in. Especially when she purified the souls of those who indulged in such vices, allowing them to serve the Project free of their sinful shackles; as angels.

He monitored Paul, watching as the man gazed into Faith's eyes, and saw once again how he lightened up. Paul noted aloud, "I must say, you have such lovely green eyes. Is that a recessive trait?"

As Faith gave an explanation to Paul, Joseph was more confused. The way he stated the detail was too specific. And he had stated loud enough for only their small group to hear.

He glanced to Silva, and was met with a menagerie of changing expressions; first was confusion, then came analysis, followed by baffled realization, until she finally settled on looking unimpressed.

With her reactions, Joseph was at a loss on how to view this interaction between Paul and Faith. Until Paul pulled out of his conversation with Faith and attentively singled Silva out, "You know Silva, se volevi solo parlare con la ragazza, non dovevi fare di tutto per incontrare prima tutta la sua famiglia, right?"

Silva blinked at Paul, staring agape as she processed the stream of words he told her aloud. A blush darkened her skin, grey eyes wide in astounded and embarrassment.

Ah, I see now, Joseph deduced, glancing from Silva to Paul, He's teasing her.

Evidenced by the cheeky grin that grew across Paul's face as he continued, "Lei è certamente una partita. Se vuoi, posso impartirti un po' di saggezza sul primo appuntamento. Purché non riceva un invito a nozze entro la fine dell'anno, eh Silva?"

Silva furrowed her brows at Paul, the blush expanded. She traversed over to grab Paul, telling him, "¡Ey! ¡Ya es suficiente de tu parte!"

Despite an irate Silva telling off a snickering Paul who fruitlessly tried to calm down his daughter, Joseph couldn't help but be endeared by the display in front of him. There was something else too... but he elected to push it away for the time being.

Joseph turned to address his family, and paused as John commented to Faith and Jacob, "Who here suspects this isn't an uncommon occurrence between these two?"

"I don't doubt it," Jacob affirmed, eyeing the duo, specifically Paul, "He's definitely the embarrassing parent."

And here's a few short paragraphed snippets for my DDLC WIP called You Make My Heart Go Doki Doki Literature Club! for the Last Lines tag. Sayori (plus Yuri and Natsuki) enters the club and interrupts... something:

The door class door clicked open, and both students snapped their heads to Sayori entering the class, who freezes once her blue eyes took in the sight of a frazzled and flushed Monika whose uniform was unkempt and fists were gripping the opened blazer flaps of the equally more disheveled and flushed new student Haoyu, both of their faces in close proximity of each other.

"This isn't what it looks like!" a horrified Monika quickly utters out, letting go of Haoyu's blazer and letting the green-dyed brunette troll drop to the floor with an ignored 'oomph!' as she went to address her club's co-president.

Only to stutter when, much to her horrifying embarrassment two more familiar faces entered the room beside Sayori; that of Yuri who didn't immediately comment on the situation and Natsuki who rushed in with a burning question to Monika's poorly timed outburst, "What doesn't look like what? Wait..."

Monika watched as Natsuki regarded her appearance, and then her pink eyes shifted to Haoyu leaning up nearby the coral brunette; who was repeatedly trying to blow hair away from their face, to a miserable degree of failure.

Once pink met emerald green, Monika could feel sweat start to break when she unfortunately witnessed a mischievous and teasing glint shine in her clubmate's eyes. With a teasing grin, Natsuki asked, "So what's going on in here?"

[mystiquedrops]

After a while of debating.. I decided-

Here's a tierlist of my opinion on every DT character 😔

Yeah my disliked characters still remained the same somehow

It'll probably take more Episodes or something for me to potentially rank them higher 😔

[a-star-that-burns-brightly]

I am so disappointed in this community for never ever connecting Chururira Chururira Daddadda with Min Jeung /lh

[clefdesoll]

put him out of his misery

[feralratzone]

now heres my evil plan

[smitethestate]

I'm about ready to say that across the board, using shame to try and motivate or change someone's behavior is bad. Mostly ineffective, especially long term, but also just wrong and bad.

And I myself spent years doing that shit. I saw it fail and I feel pretty shitty about it. I'm over it.

[wonderuzi]

[caesurables]

“….you’re punishing me, right?”

[thelemoncoffee]

overslept again!!

woe, Shuichi Danganmon be upon ye

i have no dex info for 99% of the mons as of right now, so no Shuichi lore- but he do be existing!

i made him a reaper themed Sea Krait cause i associate him with snakes and reapers. and of course one of his final designs is intended to be based on Kagehara- i couldn't not do it. i'm also currently unhappy with his shiney so it's still in shop rn

there is a planned collective theme for the starter trio, but because i haven't worked out how to implement it into Makoto and Hajime's deisgns yet (im working on Hajime rn and his designs are giving me alot of grief).

but in other starters news, thanks to my mom i have interesting animals to base the other two off of. my mom threw star-nosed mole Makoto and flying fox Hajime at me- so those are going to be interesting

anywho yeah danganmon :)

[eggs-can-draw]

Couple a doodles for that day