#essay about memories

[writersbeware]

Unexpected Reunion

            There’s something sweet about running into friends you haven’t seen in twenty years. A magnetic pull draws your eyes on each other, there’s the tilting of heads and wondering, is that…? And then you think about it some more, glancing at her face, looking for a tidbit of recognition.             What’s incredible is the joy you feel when you remember Judy, how kindly she treated you,…

[otaku553]

Procrastination doodles of sabo for the king sabo au :)

[cassettemoon]

Brothers and fathers and sons

[soracities]

Nabil S., "It was all songs: a letter from Gaza" from Nuseirat Refugee Camp & Khan Younis, trans. by his cousin Sarah Aziza and pub. Mizna [ID'd]

[quaranmine]

i think the whole cringe is dead, radical sincerity, depth of genuine emotion, earnest effort, and unironic love thing that tumblr has going on the past few years has transformed my outlook on things and changed me for the better. but it does mean that now the people i know irl will give me strange looks for being too sappy or too poetic or too dedicated or too excited about about something because they're still stuck in their "well i only like this ironically" phase. guess that's their problem tho not mine <3

[mrbluesummers-moved]

I'm too tired to write the full Essay™, but someone said in the tags that Stampede took away Knives' fear and it made me realize that the core issue I have with Trigun Stampede is the fact that the characters lack the emotional depth of Trigun Maximum. Like, I'm enjoying Stampede, and it's emotional, but Knives and Vash especially have had their emotional complexity watered down in comparison to the manga.

In the manga, they were as much at war with themselves as they were with each other and world around them. Knives was expressive, animated, and always playing up the megalomaniac god complex in public, but in private he was exhausted and scared and even expressed guilt towards his sisters for being careless in how he orchestrated the fall. Vash was an upbeat pacifist who was constantly fighting his own urge to take the "easy" way out and kill to solve problems.

It's what made the manga so heartbreaking. Neither of them were entirely right, but neither of them were entirely wrong. Knives shouldn't try a genocide, but he was also a deeply traumatized child who was shown how cruel humans could be to plants. Vash should try to do as much good in the world as he can, but holding onto the ideals of pacifism in a hostile environment does more harm than good and he learns that when he's finally pushed to the point where he has to choose between killing and saving someone important to him.

I don't think it's impossible for Stampede to recover in Season 2, but the foundations aren't great. Changing Nai to being cold as child seems like such a small change, but Knives starting out as the optimist who loved humanity is so central to that internal conflict... I don't know. Maybe they'll come back to the point of Rem being important to Knives and make use of the fact that he intended for her to survive and that might save it. We'll have to see.

[thefloatingstone]

Not to be like "haha I'm better than you guys!!!" or elitist or anything because that very sincerely is NOT the point of this post.... but I never really understood people extremely love for Harry Potter.

I read them as they were coming out. Most of the time they came out soon enough that I was the same age as Harry. I liked them. They were cool. Goblet of Fire was my favourite and I was always happy to see what story the next book would bring but that's all it was. Interest to see the next story whenever it came out. Like a sitcom you enjoy but you didn't set your tv to record for you in case you missed it.

And then the word "Chosen one" was uttered and, just like that, I fucking lost all interest. Honestly there was "Chosen one" talk in the 4th book and already I was like

Honestly I think I liked Goblet of Fire the most because there was no friggen Quidditch. And there was less focus on the SCHOOL part of Harry Potter and more this weird Video game Quest setup which just appealed to me more.

In retrospect, I think that might be a big part of why I enjoyed it but never LOVED it like other people.

Like

"Oh boy my absolute biggest most favourite fantasy! THE BRITISH EDUCATION SYSTEM!!!!"

The fact that the books take place in a school seemed like a default to me because, well, most teenage focused cartoons and shows I watched had the main characters at school. Because they're teenagers. But the school wasn't why I enjoyed the books. The school was just a location. No I didn't want to go to Hogwarts. No I didn't want to get attached to a specific school house (although I feel it worth mentioning that when I was 13 I did the online house quiz thing on the official site and it said I was Hufflepuff so make of that what you will).

I really disliked whatever the one was that came after Goblet of Fire. So much so that it completely killed any and all enjoyment I had in the series. Which, considering I was only mildly entertained by them wasn't a massive loss or anything.

I know I read whichever book it was where Dumbledore died but I very genuinely cannot remember one single thing that happens in that book whatsoever. I read half of the Deathly Hallows after coming back from College and gave up because I wasn't enjoying any of it and I never picked the book up again.

I saw the first movie in theaters when I was 13 and I did not like it. It was visually very very dark and gloomy and just... extremely uninteresting to me. Idk how to explain it. The first book just felt so much more vibrant than what I was watching on screen.

I know I saw the 2nd movie although I have no memory of where or why. And I... THINK I saw the third one??? I think??? I'm actually not sure. But that's about where I just stopped and completely lost interest.

Because it wasn't very good.

They just weren't very good books.

They weren't TERRIBLE or anything like that but they were just so.... blah. The earlier ones 13 year old me enjoyed the one time I read each of them but I don't think 13 year old me had the best taste considering I also disliked the Princess Bride at this age.

But I was reading other books because I was a kid with ADHD in high school who desperately needed something stimulating to stop myself from going insane. And frankly, there were just far better books out there. Books I actually re-read. Books I borrowed from friends which ere just... so much better and more interesting.

So I just don't understand this insane appeal so many people have for it, even if they have severed that connection due to Jowling Kowling Rowling's bufoonery and showing herself to be a withered old crone with a shrivled heart and mind every time she opens her mouth.

I grew up with these books the same way as a lot of people. I was the exact age to go through the series' highest popularity and I just did not click with them despite reading them.

So seeing so many people my age or a little younger try and do their best to re-analyse and de-tangle what the books actually are and that... maybe.... just maybe.... they might not have been very good?? Maybe?? is very weird to me because I'm just like.

"Yeah they're overrated as hell and not that interesting."

It's a very weird thing to live through because it's like looking into a bizarro version of the world you remember living through... but not like THAT. I remember the Pokemon craze and yes, it was like that. I remember when anime started to become big and yes, it was like that. I remember DBZ airing and yes, it was like that.

But this insanity around Harry Potter while it was releasing?

Yeah I don't remember it being like that at all.

They were just mediocre books I read because I needed something to occupy my attention and eventually they got worse and worse and I just stopped reading them. That's all.

[sleepsucks]

[scatterpatter]

HEY YOU SHOULD WATCH THE BRAVE LITTLE TOASTER

Oh nooooo if only there were an easy way to find it tho... if only... oh man... if only- oh oops sorry I tripped-

Oh man if only it were easy to watch... oh man...................

[hollowedpurple]

Thinking about the lyrics that goes along the lines of “I couldn't hear your silence over the sound of our happiness” again and of course Satoru couldn’t hear anything else they were separated for their missions and spent more time alone and had more time to think.

In that time Suguru kept thinking of all the ways the world was wrong and how he couldn’t find it in himself to laugh again, but Satoru was thinking of all the times he made Suguru laugh instead. Because he could already see the world for more than what it seemed. Because even though he could, he narrowed his world to Suguru and Suguru’s little giggles he got out of him only.

And because Gojo remembers Geto the way he was whenever he was with him, he remembers him happy.

[the-acid-pear]

Dave and Steven's relationship is so fucking mental literally THE toxicest of yaois 💥

[writersbeware]

No Regrets

            When my mother slipped into the depths of dementia to never return to her former self, I didn’t cry. In fact, I struggled to control my glee, to hold it inside whenever I spoke to my siblings or was around my dad.             Finally, after years and years of manipulation and emotional abuse, her voice was silent, her disapproving glare gone. Never again would I hear all the ways in…

[mitsybubbles]

Made this for a class assignment to accompany an essay project

[summertimemusician]

Linktober (Shadow) 2023

Spirit

Welp turns out my exam season throughly steam rolled through my general Linktober plans, so you get this VERY late thing for now folks who find this, at least until I decide whether to continue this until I finish it even though it's no longer Linktober or if I'll make whatever other stories come later their own thing after exam season is over (mostly because the original for this one is my preferred draft, and that I feel the one for the Link/Dark Link prompt would be kind of wasted if it just sat there collecting dust cause I worked hard on the tension and horror there lord darn it, along with a few others mainly involving Fae Hyrule, Twilight, Time, First, among other Links like Legend, Sky, Warriors, just all of the boys, I wanted to give them all proper spotlight and still want to do that in any way I can). Welp. *Downs coffee like a shot* Also really need to find out how to make a Masterlist on mobile, figure out how AO3 works and answer asks.

Anyway, not really any warnings this time besides Reader Not Being Okay (par the course really) and angst.

As always can be read as either romantic or platonic, Reader is gender neutral on purpose, technically is meant to be read as either Hero's Shade Time x Reader or First x Reader mainly, but you can interpret it as any Link really lol

Good reading!

This corner of Faron Woods was quiet this time of year.

The woods were solemn in this Hyrule, the sliver of moonlight barely enough of a guide through the mist, it was silent but for the soft padding of animals through the underbrush and the howl of a wolf in the distance (not Wolfie's, not musical enough). The stars were your only company as you were separated from the group, the air was cold agaisnt your skin as you attempted to find your way.

Being alone in the forests of Hyrule never spelled anything good for anyone, but as you felt the brush of a hand tenderly twined in yours, the ghost of leather and the faint clinking of steel, and a faint glow of pale gold and ivory cutting through the veil of the night, mindful of roots you may trip onto and never flickering too far out of sight you couldn't feel safer, even  if instead something like melancholy threatened to lock your throat with the chains of silence, you felt as warm as the soft twilight glow and as frigid as ice, frostburned with the bitter cold of your own warring emotions.

You can't help but chuckle a bit whille holding a old scabbard close to your heart, it's a wry sound, "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

There is no answer, of course there isn't, but you don't mind, you know he'll listen, thorns wrap around your heart and crawl up your throat, the smell of lilies and steel coats and sticks in your throat like honey, or maybe blood, "... I didn't think you'd show up, you know? I always considered the possibility but..." You trail off, you feel something brush your side, you can only see him in the corner of your eyes or with a passing glance, there but not, existing but gone, so you keep your eyes on the road and in the flicker of light, so you carefully don't look to your side, you don't think you could contain the shaking in your heart otherwise, to stare at inevitability and prophecy, "... I know, I know you're fine. At least for now, I apologize for all the trouble I gave you."

'It's alright. It could never be a hardship aiding you.', the voice echoes in your ears, and you swallow thickly, breath hitching, the warmth of the sun in the fields of Hyrule, the wind caressing your hair, the song of the animals in Faron Woods, someone holding you carefully, fondly. The warmth of your hand in his. Not really here, but not gone either, more feeling than true echo.

You chuckle, and try to pretend it's not a bit breathless, something like a wounded keen, "... You're too kind. Too, too kind, thank you."

Spirits in Hyrule never spell anything good, in this wild land of light and shadow in a gestalt of divinity. There are some exceptions though, even if it hurts to witness then. So you follow him through the dark, certain that as you've guided his way once, he'll lead you now to where you need to go.

----------------------------------------------------------

... The clearing he leads you to is open, but by no means truly quiet among the trees, there is no peace to be found for the armored skeleton here. You choke on sorrow, on unfinished business, on the cruelty of being brought to ruin and being denied peace, and you stumble towards the familiar figure, almost in a trance as your vision blurs, roots and thorny vines wrap over rusted armor and a thorn cape, the skeleton's void sockets piercing through your soul, illuminated by the solemn gaze of the wretched moon and it's uncaring maids of honor in the stars.

You fall to your knees near the decaying skeleton, biting back against the wounded sound that attempts to leave your throat with enough strenght to bleed, you lay the scabbard by his side with a bouquet of lilies and shiver at the gentle, phantom touch, so soft, so loving it almost leads you to ruin all over again.

'... It's foolish to grieve for someone who isn't gone yet.' the thought comes to you, yet you can't help it. You still hurt for him, you still hold onto the fury at the heavens themselves for denying them quietus. For denying them rest over and over and over again. To watch this cycle and be helpless to stop it all due to the will of uncaring gods.

Alive. Dead. Alive. Dead. Denied full rest over and over again, to watch the chance at rest to the kindest of souls found in this world you found yourself in.

You barely register the touch to your cheek, ephemeral as it is, as you can't help but shed tears, can't help but grieve. Because if you don't, who will?

You know by now that some wounds can never heal, some rifts can never be mended. Even with the guarantee of cyclic, eternal rebirth, some things never return to how they were. And reminding yourself of this inevitability to them will never not hurt, even if you know it's futile to blame anyone but the one god who started this, and maybe the goddess who stood complacent to it. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth that it'll one day come to this, that the frost of death and the sharpness of pain will leave a mark the sands of time can't scar over.

You reach a trembling hand towards the one in your cheek, try to find catharsis in the remains of decayed, dead yet ever eternal, ever growing love. And you breathe.

'We'll meet again. So do not mourn for me, please.'

You don't think you could deny him if you tried. Not when you know he's trying to soothe you, to thaw your sorrow. To allow your heart's healing to fallow.

"We will, I know. I'm sorry for making you worry." You chuckle, leaning into the cold, trying to brand the memory of the shadowed, but not gone love given to you so you can return it in kind. Just until you meet again, just until you can give all you can to his not yet decomposing self, grasping onto what remains of him, "I love you."

'I love you too. Until we meet again.'

The cold is gone, the echo of love leaves. And you breathe, and pretend you don't feel empty.

(When you see Link again, reuniting with the Chain on the next day's twilight. You hug him as tight as you can, and hope you he doesn't notice the tears in your eyes. And that you don't feel the lingering traces of a frigid embrace.

When no one is looking, you wave goodbye to the shade. And pray he dreams of warmer days until he finds quietus.)

[randomly--accessed--memories]

Sir Pentious has... complicated feelings about his relationship with Vox. He used to idolize him– Pen tended to idolize all overlords, but Vox in particular was one of his favorites due to the tech empire he built for himself and how he seemed amenable to partnerships. Hearing he'd died was... disappointing, but this is Hell after all and maybe Vox being gone would leave an opening for him to finally begin his career as an overlord (it did not).

When he got the call from the Vees, recruiting him for a secret mission to rescue Vox from the Radio Demon himself, Pen was astounded. Vox was alive? And he'd seen him at the hotel but had either not recognized him or been too focused on Alastor to register his presence? The Vees gave him a vague idea of the state Vox was in, but he was shocked once he finally met him (literally: Vox zapped Pentious by mistake while shaking his hand). He didn't know Vox any more than any of his former customers would, but it was still jarring to see a man who'd always presented to the public as so powerful and in control act in such a high-strung, disorganized way.

Pentious managed to keep his cool around Vox and not instantly give the game away. It was weird, living at the hotel, slowly figuring out the finer details of the situation that the Vees had left out. Pen found himself surprisingly grateful that Alastor never took him even remotely seriously as a rival if this is what he does to people who do get his attention. Vox now followed Alastor around like a lost puppy and just could not stop breaking things. Pentious found himself being called upon to attempt to fix technology outside of his area of expertise more and more frequently. Vox was always frantic to fix his mistakes (when he could remember that he made them), so the two of them worked together; Vox explained how the technology functioned and Pen did the physical work of repairing the item, as well as the mental work of trying to make sense of Vox's rather disjointed explanations.

They talked while they worked. In group settings, Vox found Pen entertaining– he was dramatic and bombastic and could hold Vox's attention fairly easily as a result. Despite the circumstances of the situation, Pentious couldn't help but receive a bit of an ego boost from such a formerly powerful overlord treating him like he was someone worth paying attention to. But when they were alone– working to repair whatever new household appliance Vox had fried that day– was when Pen found himself actually getting attached to Vox. He could see glimpses of the intelligent, diligent, ambitious man trapped beneath all the noise. Vox still had actual, meaningful things to say, they just tended to go unnoticed in the rush of constant speech. Vox would occasionally become incredibly frustrated, feeling as though no one around him took him seriously or wanted to listen to his input on things. Pentious could relate to that.

Pen would listen though. He'd adjust the dial and try to tune into what Vox was actually trying to communicate. This wasn’t some stupid Egg Boi, after all; it was one of the most influential people in the whole Pride Ring, even if that part of his life was clearly, permanently over. Pentious was surprised at how patient he was capable of being and how much of a difference it made. Other than Niffty, most of the hotel residents had learned to sort of tune out most of Vox's chatter (either intentionally or unintentionally) and only tune back in when he said or did something that was obviously important or completely un-ignorable. It was so gratifying for Vox to finally have someone who was paying full attention to everything he was saying, as well as making a concerted effort to understand which parts were an attempt at a point and which parts were just absentminded rambling.

Once Vox and Pen felt as though they (mostly) understood each other, they were able to make progress. Vox started getting a better hold on his electricity and Pentious learned which strategies for keeping Vox on-task worked best. Instead of constantly fixing stuff, they started building things together. It was surprising for Pen to realize that he no longer only cared about Vox as a former overlord, but as a friend. They had fun together, both with and without the other hotel residents.

On some level, Pentious knew that if Vox weren't in the mental state that he was, he never would've given Pen a second glance. That thought made him uncomfortable; he couldn't help but feel like he was taking advantage in some way. But on the other hand, Pentious recognized that he was helping Vox (and Niffty too, eventually). Where did that leave him, morally? He mostly tried to tune those thoughts out though and just enjoy the present moment. It became very easy for him to forget why he was at the hotel in the first place, especially as he grew closer with the other residents too.

Eventually, approximately four months into his stay, Pentious was on a call with the Vees, reporting back about whatever was going on that week. Val casually mentioned how he and Velvette were going to kill everyone in the hotel once they got Vox back; they all needed to be punished for their complicity in this situation, not just Alastor. Pentious was shocked, especially when Velvette confirmed that, yes, that had been the plan all along, obviously. Pen had grown deeply attached to his life at the hotel and his new village of friends; he couldn't let them all die for something that wasn't even their fault. It was a hard choice, but as soon as he got off the call, he went straight to Charlie and came clean about how he'd been sent by the Vees to spy on the hotel and get Vox back. He didn't tell her the truth about Vox's situation though. Pen was desperate to preserve what he had at the hotel and he knew that if he revealed why the Vees wanted Vox back, everything would come crashing down (and that Alastor would probably kill him in retaliation almost instantly). Charlie forgave Pen, of course, and he was free to continue with the life and friendships he'd come to treasure at the hotel. Pentious wasn't sure if that was the right thing to do, morally. But he did it anyway.

[iristial]

Speaking of grumpy characters, Yuuto's a special case to me. I was so sure I was going to hate him because he was mean to Ryotarou in his debut appearance, and not even two minutes later he punched himself in the face, acted like a petty child and did a body slam on poor Deneb. That was the precise moment I knew I was going to love him. Then came the time travel plot, his connection to Deneb, a weird and complex space of longing and self-sacrifice and emotional constipation, and the Airi thing. Oh, the Airi thing. How else can I describe it; that entire debacle needs five whole books on its own