#even in real life I feel like the same way. I feel like a bystander in my own life

[wishmkr-jirachi]

.

[my-head-is-an-animal]

The Climb

Summary: You're a scientist, an engineer to be exact. Called to a meeting you had no real right to be at, Optimus Prime takes an exclusive interest in you, but you can't help but ask yourself at every turn, Why?

Rating: 18+ 🌹🩸🍆

Story Masterlist

Chapter 18

Optimus was talking to Ironhide when he felt something within his chest.

     ‘Optimus?’ Ironhide said, with an unusual amount of concern.

     ‘Jane?’ The great Prime felt his knees weaken, like something was being forced into him. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to be open to it.

     To humans it would simply look like lines of code, but to Optimus, everything was clear. Jane was dying.

     ‘What can I do?’ Optimus asked, already feeling the pain of losing her.

     The code ran in front of his eyes, his Spark was communicating with him. It needed information… about…?

     Optimus opened his eyes and felt the panic begin to overtake him. ‘I know what I must do.’ He said and strode towards Jane’s old office where Theo was working and still upset with him.

     ‘Theo.’ Optimus said, kneeling down to talk to him. ‘I must speak with you.’

     ‘What could you possibly have to say to me?’ Theo spat.

     ‘Jane needs our help.’ He said. ‘Her Spark does not know how to keep her alive, at the moment your machines are doing the work for it, but it needs to understand how to do it alone.’

     ‘So then send a message, transmit it, or whatever it is you do when you talk to her.’ Theo went to walk away from Optimus.

     ‘I talk to her the same way you do.’ His deep voice echoing off the walls of the large lab space. ‘I cannot simply walk into Janes dreams and talk to her as you believe I do. I speak to her when she sleeps in the same manner as you. I am not as privileged as you may think.’

     Theo paused for a moment, he really did believe that Optimus could communicate with his best friend in ways that he couldn’t. But Optimus needed to make clear that in this case he was nothing more than a bystander.

     ‘How can we help her then?’ Theo asked, his voice shaking as he did.

     ‘Her Spark does not understand how a human heart operates, we must teach it.’

     ‘How?’

     ‘I suspect you humans have many collections of written works on the subject. If you read them aloud, the Spark will hear it.’ Optimus explained. ‘It has learned enough from Janes brain waves to access her auditory functions.’

     ‘It’ll be like offering information for it to download?’

     ‘Exactly.’ Optimus nodded. ‘All this time we have been giving the Spark information it cannot use to save Janes life, it is capable of remembering everything it sees and hears, so now we must provide something more useful if Jane is to survive.’

     Theo barely listened to the rest of what Optimus had to say, he’d already gone about stripping his lab coat off and searching his bookshelf.

     ‘I don’t have anything here.’ He said, annoyed. ‘We’ll have to talk to Dr Hanley, she can get the information we need.’

     Optimus presumed that was the doctor who was keeping your recovery going, the one he’d spoken to a few nights before, he should have asked her name.

     Theo rushed out of the lab and towards the hospital, seemingly not caring that Optimus couldn’t follow him. He just wanted to save his friend.

     Optimus could Lennox and Smith arguing once again across the base. He decided it was best to return to the Autobot hanger while things calmed down.

For days Dr Hanley, Theo and even Lennox read to Jane, giving her Spark all the information they could on how the human body worked. Eventually Optimus began reading as well, if he was to spend the rest of his life with her, he needed to understand more than her mind.

     Optimus realised in all his desperation and need, he was now in union with someone of an entirely different species and that meant certain things would not come easy or natural to him. Custom and culture was one thing, but anatomy was another thing entirely.

     He tried to ignore the looks he would sometimes get from Ratchet, the one that told him the gravity of his choice was yet to be revealed, but instead he focused on anything positive he could.

     Once Jane was awake, things might have been easier.

     After a week, progress was finally being made. Dr Hanley was able to take away one of the machines keeping Jane alive. Optimus didn’t understand which one or what it did exactly, but she had been strapped into so many that, to him, it barely made a difference.

     ‘This is a good thing, Optimus.’ Dr Hanley told him one evening when he visited Jane. ‘It means she’s healing and your Spark is starting to learn more about what she needs. We’ve still got a long way to go, but things are looking up.’

     Optimus looked over Jane’s body, noting just how fragile it looked, how broken she must have felt when she fell. It broke him.

     ‘Thank you, Dr Hanley.’ He wasn’t sure what else to say.

     Dr Hanley gave him a sympathetic smile and left him with Jane for the night.

     ‘Jane.’ Optimus spoke quietly, his voice reaching a depth that would tell anyone of the pain he was feeling. ‘I wish you could tell me what it is you need. I feel… powerless.’ Optimus looked down, feeling the shame of his admission. ‘I do not know how long it will take for you to wake up, and I worry for your friends.’

     His eyes grazed over her room, observing the machines keeping her alive. She was so thin now, all the muscle she’d built up for the climb had begun to wither and her face was gaunt in a way he’d never seen in any human before.

     Dr Hanley kept assuring him that this was normal and as soon as she woke up, she would be able to regain her strength again, but for now, maintaining the essential organs her body needed was far more important.

     ‘I fear I have made a terrible mistake.’ Optimus’s voice shook. ‘I fear I have caused you more pain and you will awaken feeling hatred for me.’ He leaned forward a little more. ‘I would understand your feeling and not blame you in the slightest, but I have come to understand that perhaps my emotions got the better of me. Perhaps… I should have allowed you peace instead of this…’ Optimus was struggling to keep himself. ‘Until you give me a sign, I will continue with your request to offer information to your Spark, but Jane… please… come back to me soon.’

     Optimus took a moment to compose himself, Jane was the only one he felt he could falter in his bravery with, the only one who could understand his doubts and worries, and not think him weak. But he had made a promise, he would help until she gave him a sign that it either was or wasn’t working. He owed her that much for saving the world.

If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Oh My, Good Lord

Day #25 - Gareth | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Gareth | Pairing: Gareth/Di (OC), Background Steddie | Tags: Future Fic, Retired Corroded Coffin, TikTok Trends, Who Can You Traumatize If Not Your Friends?

Gareth watches the analytics tick upwards and he's getting concerned. It was meant to be a joke. Now, it's breaking containment. 

Nobody has ID'd him yet, not as far as he knows, but there are lots of comments that mention that he looks familiar. So, it's coming. His tattoos are on full display, so he might as well be showing the world his fingerprints.

They're gonna figure it out. 

And as soon as that happens, it's gonna get picked up by TMZ and then Eddie's gonna know and never shut the fuck up about it.

He should delete it. 

Quit while he's ahead. 

But, Di likes it. Says he looks good, and that she wants to show off her sexy husband. She's the one that put it to that popular sound clip and uploaded it to an account unattached to either of them. Just for fun, and it was fun, at first. Now it's threatening to really go viral and there'll be no escaping identification if that happens.

So, he's standing by. Hoping it'll have its brief moment in the algorithm and then fizzle out.

It's not like it's that racy. He's showing less than he showed every night for decades onstage. But he still feels exposed. The before, the kind of dorky kid that was in Hellfire Club, that's how he feels inside. Not whoever that slicked-back hair guy is.

Gareth's phone buzzes on his desk, and he picks it up, and it's a text from Eddie:

Got something to tell me, kid?

Gareth isn't sure what he's talking about, but then a photo is attached and yep. There it is. A screenshot of his viral video.

This you?

Well, shit.

He hovers in the text box, and he knows Eddie can see that he's dithering. Before he can make a decision, his phone is ringing. He'd just as well face the music now, there'll be no avoiding it. Not when it comes to Eddie.

He's never gonna live this down. No way in hell.

"Shut up," Gareth says by way of greeting, and Eddie just laughs, and laughs, and laughs.

"Kid," he finally says, "does Di know you did this?"

"Di filmed it and uploaded it. Yeah, she knows. I was an innocent bystander."

Eddie laughs, "Just wait until Goodie finds out."

Gareth grabs a fistful of his own hair and tugs. Goodie won't ever let it go. Gareth may have to move to another continent to escape him. Eddie will make fun, but it won't be anything on what Goodie'll unleash.

"Do not tell him, Eddie. I swear to god. How'd you even find it in the first place?"

"Steve. It showed up on his for you page, and he yelped like he'd been struck by lightning."

"Do I at least look good?" Gareth asks.

"Uh, well, I had to tell Steve to either mute his phone, put on headphones or, you know, just stop watching it on a loop. One or the other. The music was driving me crazy."

Gareth laughs. He's under no illusions that Steve Harrington actually thinks he's attractive, that's absurd, but there was something mesmerizing about it. That seamless quick cut from one version of him to the other. The stats show that people are looping it, for sure. How, even to himself, it was crazy to watch how he changed how he looked. Like he might not have been the same person at all.

He was, though. Yeah, Di made him up to be extra dorky for the before, but she also did some magic on the after, both in real life and with some sort of filter on top. But both worked together to make him look pretty damn different than he does on a daily basis. He falls somewhere in between the two. Not that goofy, but not that attractive, either.

But, he can almost look like that. It's been a funhouse mirror of a weird thing to realize. 

And now Eddie knows. 

Fuck.

He finds Di in the kitchen, folding towels. 

"Eddie knows."

She looks up, meeting his eyes.

"Eddie knows what?" Di asks, folding another towel and putting it on top of the large stack on the kitchen island as she grabs the next one.

"About the tiktok," he says, and she laughs. Fucking cackles, and he smiles, because if she's that delighted there's no way he can't be, too.

"How'd he find it?" she asks.

"Steve," Gareth answers, "because the universe hates me."

"The universe wouldn't have given you that face if it hated you," she says, leaning forward and squeezing both of his cheeks between her fingers. 

He's old. A dad. Of adults. 

He was in a band, and they retired. That's how old he is. That his band stopped because they were so old they didn't want to be on the road anymore. 

Now he's a tiktok thot. 

The front door opens and slams closed, and Gareth looks up, expecting Eddie. It's not Eddie. He wishes it were Eddie.

Goodie's got his phone up, that seven-second clip of music playing on a loop.

Gareth hangs his head, "How'd you find out?"

"The kids called. Wanted to know when Uncle Gare got hot," Goodie says, "I'm traumatized. Is this a midlife crisis?"

"If it is, it's Di's," Gareth says.

"She did this?!" Goodie hollers, "She's the one that unleashed this evil onto the world?"

"Yep. Keep playing that, you're making me money." 

Goodie pauses, then slumps down onto the couch, the music abruptly cutting off, "Well. If it was Di."

"Oh, when she does it, it's fine? But if I'd done it, that'd be gross?"

"Of course. She did it, and that's funny. If you'd did it, it'd just be sad."

Gareth ignores him. Then has a thought.

"So, Uncle Gare is hot, huh?" Gareth asks, unable to resist poking Goodie just one more time.

"Stop. I beg of you. Those are my children and they both need to find Jesus for saying such things."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

Notes: Based off this tiktok. It just felt very Gareth-coded to me, and, well, here we are. The fake tiktok video screen in the header is made from a picture from Gwydion's insta where he dressed up like Gareth.

[nickel156]

Not you being an abuse apologist 🤮 mind you, tamlin is an old ass fae high lord who's had plenty of time already to reflect and change his ways, his abusive tendencies are clearly ingrained into his entire being. Funny you only mention feyre as an example even though it's also implied that he's abusive towards lucien. And you clearly know very little about abuse because intent is irrelevant compared to impact. Feyre and Lucien LEFT his ass and wanted nothing to do with him so that tells you everything.

Here we go again with the dramatics. Abuse apologist?

That's the best you've got? I mean, come on, at least try to be creative. But I see we're back to the same tired argument: if someone doesn't immediately throw Tamlin into the "irredeemable villain" category, suddenly they're an apologist. How original.

Oh, you’re right—let’s set the record straight. In ACOFAS, Tamlin and Lucien did, in fact, get into a physical fight, and I’m fully aware of it. But it’s interesting how you’re framing that like it’s the defining moment of their centuries-long relationship. Sure, Tamlin hit Lucien, but let’s not forget why—Lucien had just helped Feyre demolish his entire court and then went off to work with Tamlin’s literal enemies. I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty sure most people would have some feelings about that.

And let’s not pretend like Lucien and Tamlin didn’t have a deep bond before all this went down. They were best friends for centuries, long before Feyre showed up and threw a grenade into their lives. Yes, their relationship got messy—Tamlin’s spiraling, Lucien’s torn between loyalty to his friend and loyalty to Feyre—but reducing that fight to just “abuse” is a laughably simplistic take. They’re two grown-ass fae dealing with the fallout of betrayal, power struggles, and centuries of loyalty crumbling in the span of, what, a few months?

Do I condone Tamlin hitting Lucien? No. But am I surprised that their relationship fractured after everything went to hell? Also no. It’s almost like you expect Tamlin to just sit there and smile while his best friend runs off with the person who wrecked his entire life. Sure, Tamlin messed up in ACOWAR, but pretending Lucien is some innocent bystander in all of this is just laughable. They’re both in the mess together.

So yeah, they fought in ACOFAS. But it’s not like that defines their entire relationship or suddenly makes Tamlin the monster you’re painting him to be. It’s not as simple as “Tamlin is abusive, end of story.” Their dynamic is way more complicated than that, but I guess it’s easier to ignore context when it doesn’t fit your neat little narrative, huh?

But thanks for the reminder. Truly, your ability to dig up the most basic of facts is impressive. I guess I’ll just sit here, twiddling my thumbs, while I wait for you to come up with something actually original or remotely interesting for once. Because, honestly, if this is the best you’ve got, I’m not exactly holding my breath for anything groundbreaking. You keep bringing the same recycled points to the table, and it’s getting real tired.

[starry-fame]

Hopeless Eternity [Dawnbreaker Zayne x Gender Neutral!Reader/MC]

Summary:

Is this what it means to be lost in your dreams? Some days, if there’s no risk of transformation, he spends his entire day and evening in bed, drifting in and out of sleep. Sleep is warm, serene, sleep gives him a life where his hands are soaked in blood with the intention of saving — not destroying. It’s a dangerous irony, the him that exists as a surgeon, an aid, a life-saver.

A him that’s loved.

Tags: angst, pining, Zayne POV, hurt no comfort, complicated feelings, touch-starved Zayne, post-prologue to tomorrow Word count: 3,030 Ao3

Author’s Notes: I pumped this out in a day out of pure will and post-main story release I love Zayne I love Dawnbreaker :(((

Masterlist

It’s equally fleeting as it is vivid. His solace — his reprieve; a soft smile and sparkling eyes. The way you look at him, something he’s come to crave. Find solace in his quiet dreams. Sometimes you’re a wide eyed child, teary over a popsicle he awkwardly freezes to fix. It’s lumpy and not very appetizing but you seem to love it anyway. Other times you’re older, an adult, a hunter, he learns over these dreams. A dying profession. A world bright, warm, lacking the destitution of his current home.

Is this what it means to be lost in your dreams? Some days, if there’s no risk of transformation, he spends his entire day and evening in bed, drifting in and out of sleep. Sleep is warm, serene, sleep gives him a life where his hands are soaked in blood with the intention of saving — not destroying. It’s a dangerous irony, the him that exists as a surgeon, an aid, a life-saver.

A him that’s loved.

Zayne can’t save a soul. But he can destroy them before they drag innocent bystanders into the depths of hell with them. If there is a heaven — a cold voice flickers in his mind that a damned world like this experiences no heaven nor hell — he hopes the souls he freed make it there. Maybe then the blood he’s drenched in would feel a little less heavy.

It’s a rinse and repeat. Destroy and recoup. Grab just enough sustenance and plant food, repeat. Life’s a bleak repetition over and over. He doesn’t lose himself in AI like the rest of the world does, but when he spends hours grueling over doctor shows and trying to understand the same procedures the him in his dreamscape undergoes, he wonders if his form of escapism is any better.

They don’t compare to his vivid mind. Well — it can’t merely be dreams. It’s practically life itself. A world just beyond his reach, dreams that haunt him. There’s always that person — you. He’s not sure if the bubble of affection comes from himself or the person he is in his dreams. Yet every time he wakes up, the hollowness in his chest doesn’t go away. The yearning for someone far beyond his reach, a soft smile and fingers that press a macaron to his counterpart’s soft lips.

He always liked sweets.

—

The day his dreams become real, tangible, a reality, he almost feels complete.

It’s brief, it always is, but it’s enough to stave him over. Makes the chill in his heart thaw, the frost that seems to enshroud him, a never ending arctic mist, dissipate.

He’s blacked out — a wanderer — he thinks. A hand too slow, a shot too off. He kills it, but not before it gets a blow on him that knocks the breath from his lungs and the light from his eyes. The world goes black.

Until it isn’t.

The person that inhabits his dreams, you, sit before him. You’re rambling about something Zayne tunes out, too focused on the way your eyes soften, the soft movement of your lips, the round of your cheeks and the way your lashes dip. The you in front of him is so tangible, so real. He can feel the warmth of your skin and almost taste the lingering sweetness on his lips from a snack he’s never before indulged in. The world is bright, warm. The place he inhabits is homely, smells distinctly sweet with a hint of floral. He knows this home, it’s the one he resides in. In this world, at least.

He watches, rapt, until your eyes meet his and you tilt your head. Every small thing Zayne drinks in like a starved man. A person he can only yearn, a life he’s never been able to reach, not until now.

“Zayne…?” Your voice asks. Zayne tries to answer, to formulate something his counterpart would say, but he has no words. His breath hitches, and lashes flutter slightly. It feels so surreal his heart thunders, an erratic, unknown rhythm.

Is this what being with someone you like feels like? So raw, so visceral, so all-consuming? He almost thinks he can’t control himself, and his hand reaches out of his own accord, brushing your cheek.

You blink, so cute, and Zayne breathes as you nuzzle into his hand. So warm. He can’t remember the last time he let himself revel in another human’s touch. He wants to — he wants… he wants everything, to the point where he can’t do anything. Could he simply exist here forever?

You hum, look into his eyes, and your fingers come up to rest on his cheek. Zayne flinches, he doesn’t mean to, but he does. He quickly relaxes and your hand lingers as your soft thumb strokes his pale cheek.

“Zayne…? Are you okay?”

Zayne’s breath hitches. This… he remembers this. Once. The fear, the wide eyes, when you finally realize…

He almost wants to retreat, turn around so he can bask in the dream longer. But your hand on his cheek is enough to make him melt. He wonders what he could say to make you laugh, to make you pout. Would you like him as much as the doctor you fell in love with?

Your thumb presses a little harder, and Zayne instantly notices the telltale furrow in your brows. You scrutinize him and Zayne can only sit there, let himself be examined like a cadaver in a room full of med students.

“You’re… different. Strange. I don’t…” You whisper. Zayne tries not to let the sting get to him. The sting of you knowing the other him so well — the second he gets a chance, this one fleeting chance to truly experience the life he vyes for, he’s instantly rejected.

“…I’m sorry,” he breathes. He knows. He’s a fraud. A criminal. A man who reaps souls rather than revered for his ability to save them. He’s the complete opposite of the man you love in every sense of the word.

He’ll never be him.

“…Are you Zayne?” You murmur. The apology was all you needed, it seemed. Zayne should be impressed really — attractive, sweet, and perceptive. It melts his heart as much as it makes him ache. He craves your you, your everything. The dream he so vividly recalls each night brightened by your smiles. A desire he distantly aches for experienced through another.

“Not yours.” He’s Zayne, but not your Zayne. As much as he wishes he could, much as he wishes he could experience the world you do each day beyond the firm of his rugged mattress and thin blanket.

You watch him, your eyes transferring from soft to a sort of solemn. It hurts, that gentleness gone, yet, he revels in the fact that you’re seeing him. You’re not looking at the doctor you go on dinners with, the Zayne that adores a variety of sweets, dresses in light, doesn’t have to stalk in the shadows and remain a faceless mystery.

You’re looking at the man with countless bodies that lay behind him and dissipate to ash. Blood that stains his hands and soul, forever tainted.

“You know my Zayne,” You respond, not a question, it sounds resolute as you pull away from his cheek. The air feels chilly devoid of your warmth. He expects you to retreat, scurry away from the stranger that dawns her lover’s flesh like a suit. Instead, you take his hands and stroke the back of them. It’s ironic, the marks that litter this Zayne as well. Even in a world not yet completely overran by wanderers, his scars have stories to tell.

“I dream of him almost every night,” the words spill from Zayne’s lips. A dirty little secret. The unequivocal truth. When he looks into your eyes, it feels impossible to lie. He wants to admit the truth. To feel your hands on his skin and whisper quiet reassurances that you can love him too. It might be an impossible wish, but it’s the one that flutters deep in his heart he long since closed off to the world.

“…Do you like to wear all black?” You query. Your fingers trail along his scars, and Zayne can’t help the way he trembles. To be touched so gently, so reverently, it’s terribly foreign. The question is so innocuous, yet nearly shatters everything. It’s always you. Always able to see him.

To know he wears black — his mind flickers to Georgie. The determined spirit before tendrils burst from his fragile flesh. Perhaps, in this world, he truly is nothing but a nightmare.

Zayne nods.

Your breath hitches, the fingers tracing Zayne’s scars pause. He wishes you’d continue, but he fights back the urge to goad you to.

Your eyes seem sadder, somehow. And all Zayne can think is to do something, anything to chase that sadness away. Could he ever be the one to kiss away your tears?

“I wish you didn’t give Zayne nightmares,” you say.

Zayne’s eyes merely flicker down, some semblance of guilt gnawing at him. He’s learned to harden his heart long ago, to keep a calculated distance, but he can’t ignore the pang that shoots through him at receiving your chastising.

Nightmares. Perhaps time and space mean nothing, not truly. Perhaps everything exists in tandem, the idea of past present and future intermingle. Time is a convoluted subject Zayne — quite ironically — hasn’t the time to dabble in. So he can only speculate as dreams and reality converge before his very eyes, past and future entwined.

“I don’t… intend to.” Is all Zayne can say. His life — the world he resides would be a waking nightmare for someone who lives a life such as this. You seem to soften at that, and when you stare straight into Zayne’s eyes, Zayne daren’t look away.

“If you’re truly Zayne’s dream…” You say, and you grasp his hand, interlocking your fingers together with a soft squeeze. Zayne’s heart quivers, and he feels his face waver as a dash of yearning and overwhelming affection surge in him. He’s unsure of it’s his own heart or the natural bodily response of the person he resides. Neither seems wrong. “I wish you’d take better care of yourself.”

Something inside of Zayne breaks then. Maybe if he was more emotional, the sort to cry, tears would spill. Instead, he leans forward, breathless, and you flinch back, eyes wide.

Right. He shouldn’t be surprised. He’s not your Zayne. He might share the same face, but that’s where the similarities end.

After, though, your hands come to brush over his cheeks before holding them firmly in your hands. You’re soft, hesitant, but you hold him in a way so sweet Zayne feels any tension leave him.

“Do you like jasmines?” You ask, and Zayne wishes he could stay like this forever. Encased in your warm hands as you ask him anything, everything. You could speak gibberish and he could listen for hours.

He tries not to feel envy. To despise and abhor the cards he’s been dealt. But if he had the option to be born in a world like yours, with you, he’d choose it in a heartbeat.

“At least I can keep one thing alive,” Zayne scoffs bitterly. Half a joke, half self-depreciation. Your hands continue to encase his cheeks, not put off, and when your thumbs brush his lips, Zayne feels everything in him freeze. Figuratively, but the emotion hits so hard it could almost manifest physically.

“Your world looks sad. You plague Zayne, a nightmare… but I guess it’s your reality.” You mutter, it seems more to yourself than anything, but your fingers stroke Zayne so tenderly he wonders if it’s okay to indulge. To think this is meant for him and no one else, not even the him that resides in this world.

Zayne’s eyes flutter, he knows he must look something akin to needy. He watches you with weak eyes, a quiet want that’s stirred in him for as long as he can remember.

You chew your lip — Zayne watches the way your teeth catch on it, the way they glisten when you lick them, and, and…

Does he move first, or you? In a moment, your breath fans his cheek, his lips, and Zayne’s eyes flutter shut as your lips press against his.

So warm. So soft. It’s brief, a slow, sweet kiss before you pull away and look at him with half-lidded, complicated eyes and parted lips.

Zayne wants to lose himself in your lips. Kiss you for an eternity over and over. Instead, he breathes, lets his ears burn. He can’t remember the last time he kissed someone. The world was so secluded, and once it became his duty, no, once he became obsessed with ridding the world of abominations one at a time… time froze. An endless loop of death, gathering food, watering his jasmine, watching old shows, repeat.

“You’re not Zayne,” you repeat as you watch him. Your eyes waver, and Zayne knows all too well the look of instant regret. Confusion after you took a leap into the abyss — uncertainly floating amidst the sea.

He’s not Zayne. But they share the same face. The same dreams. Yin and yang. Two sides of the same coin, intertwined, unable to escape or exist without the other. If Zayne didn’t have this world in his dreams, he’d have given up long ago. He thinks, plainly, maybe even meanly, the Zayne you love can dream the so-called nightmare he lives daily for all he cares. At least your Zayne got to wake up to a stable, populated world.

“Not yours. But he knows me. And I know him.” He can’t say if it’s right or wrong. Him or you. He knows he’s hijacked the man you love. The man that loves you. He wonders — is the Zayne he’s meant to be in his own body? Or is he simply suppressed, as though he never existed?

“You looked so sad. I… couldn’t help myself,” you say. As though defending yourself. Zayne doesn’t need an explanation — frankly — he hardly cares. You could have the worst excuse known to man but if you looked at him with those doe eyes and kissed him with those lips that make him melt, he’d let anything slide. “You’re… not my Zayne. But you’re Zayne. You’re different, but similar. You melt in my hands the same way.”

Zayne blinks, head gently goaded side to side as you playfully move and cradle his face in your palms. You’re not wrong — he’s so pliant he moves with little resistance. Watches you with the same eyes he’s always had, as though nothing is ever enough. It feels nice. Could this be his new life? His everyday?

“Will… my Zayne ever come back?”

The soft-spoken words shatter the pleasant world Zayne had began to encase, enshroud himself in. Even if you see him, kiss him, he’ll never be enough. He’ll never be the man by your side every day. The man who gets to experience you in full, your joy, your touch, your sadness, your serenity.

The words are like a cue. The world begins to lighten, warble, the feeling of nearly waking from a dream. Zayne fights to keep it for just a little longer, to stay in your hands and bask in your attention.

“He will,” Zayne says. All he can. Because he yearns for you as much as he yearns for your happiness. The same happiness the Zayne you’re meant for elicits.

But for a brief moment, he got to experience you. The light of a clean, pristine world. Not through a dream where he’s a spectator in the head of his doppelgänger.

The world begins to dissipate. Pain engulfs him. The world he’s lost himself in shifts and returns to a world enshrouded in dark.

His side burns. The cotton of his shirt clings to his throbbing wound.

It hides the blood well.

The only proof of his attack are fleeting glowing crystals a ways away.

—

The next night Zayne dreams, it’s as usual. You’re both eating lunch together this time, the smell of fresh food and a bustling crowd — an impossible dream in reality. He can’t control himself, but he can live through your Zayne, see the world through hands that heal, a heart slightly lesser burdened. A world where he lives and works in the light.

Warm food tastes good. Smells good. He doesn’t have the time, money, luxury. But he can experience it through these, almost as real as life itself.

When he awakens, the room is ever barren. The sky dark, and the incessant chatter of a much too dramaticized ER show plays in the background. He blinks, weary, and sits up to look at the holoscreen in his room.

Numerous glowing green dots. One, about a mile away, flickers red.

Zayne inhales, presses against the used, rugged mattress, and sits up. He follows routine, changing into his nightwear — perhaps work wear. Inspects his jasmines — bright and strong, they almost glow against the dark backdrop. And he reaches into a cabinet, downing a powder that fills him physically. Quick, efficient.

His wound still aches. The sticky gauze clings to his festering gash and despite being a doctor in another life, he doesn’t care much for his own wounds. It’s nowhere near healed. But abominations don’t offer sick days. The world attacks indiscriminately, and if he rests, people who don’t have to die will.

He might be no doctor. But by destroying a withering life, he can at least preserve a few more.

So he inhales, exhales, and steps into the barren world. Barely a person in sight, aside from one or two stragglers. No one to run up to him and hug him, no bright lights and city chatter. No warm sun to prickle his skin, lift his mood. No Linkon City.

Just the shitty world he was born into. The world he’ll endure and battle until his last breath even if it means trying to save a hopeless, dying land.

The routine repeats. Never-ending. Only one thought echoes in his mind as he takes off:

Here we go again.

btw check out Linkon Lounge, an 18+ Lads Themed Otome Discord Server! We stream otome/anime/movies, have lads boys rp/text bots (+Caleb ofc), and chill! Super inclusive and lgbtq+ friendly!

[i-love-your-shades-of-wrong]

you want complex characters? here's Gale.

I am fully convinced that people only hate Gale bc it's Liam Hemsworth and because they think he's annoying - and yeah, it's true, he IS annoying, but to like president snow more than him? (its pretty privilege)

Most people know by now that the love triangle in thg is for metaphorical purposes - the choice between peace and war. And it's not even a choice as a reader - there is quite literally no chemistry between gale and katniss (in my opinion). But that doesn't merit hatred for the character himself.

He grows up in the seam, poor and being the breadwinner for his siblings. (how sad) We're supposed to disagree with his motives by the end of it - he shouldn't want to get revenge because that makes him as bad as the capitol (yada yada yada). And Peeta is in the right because he wants to show mercy. (peace vs war)

But Peeta grows up as the bakers son. Has he ever gone hungry? No. Are we meant to feel bad for him because of his mum? idk. His name was in the bowl far, far less times. Does that make it any better? No, because he's picked (and this is meant to be about how the system is awful... you get it). But Peeta doesn't grow up hating the capitol because they don't hurt him... until the games.

Is this an attack on Peeta? No, of course not, but circumstances are important as the actions taken within them (situation ethics). Peeta goes into the games and you'd think his outlook on life changes, but it doesn't. Some people have stronger cores - a lifetime of security within yourself does that.

Peeta goes into the games again, Gale saves the citizens of 12 in the bombing. Peeta's kidnapped. And Gale says this:

"He might have been tortured. Or persuaded. My guess is he made some kind of deal to protect you. He'd put forth the idea of the cease- fire if Snow let him present you as a confused pregnant girl who had no idea what was going on when she was taken prisoner by the rebels. This way, if the districts lose, there's still a chance of leniency for you. If you play it right." I must still look perplexed because Gale delivers the next line very slowly. "Katniss…he's still trying to keep you alive."

So, he's annoying, but is he a liar? No. He's ever the strategist, thinking of things from the logical point of view. (really grasping for straws but I need a pro and less cons😭)

People really hated Gale for bombs - killing innocent people that just want to help the fallen? (ohno how sad). But are capitol citizens ever really innocent? Bystanders that simply allow children to be murdered year after year? The idea that they simply have no idea of the harm being caused is ludicrous. Do they not have critical thinking skills? No matter what happens in life, you KNOW murder is wrong. No matter what propaganda media shows you.

(also Beetee helped make those bombs too like gale was annoying but stop giving him full credit like if I was beetee I'd be pissed)

So, that comes to the idea that killing people as a whole is unethical, and it doesn't matter that they're awful people. Is that untrue? No. Is it far to those that have been oppressed their entire lives, being told that using force against their oppressors is wrong? Maybe. It's not an easy issue to resolve (kinda explains the metaphor, doesn't it?)

Neoliberalism probably wants you to blame the individuals. Coin, Gale, Snow. Coin and Snow were two sides of the same coin (ooh pun) - politicians, adults, playing for their own power. Is it wrong to enjoy power? No, of course not, just don't abuse it. Gale enjoyed power. But he was fighting for the freedom of the country, not himself. And he's only 19/20. You're a lot angrier when you're younger, as many adults forget.

The system is the real problem, clearly. Why should the capitol have all the power? Why are the districts being used? We don't know. But that's unimportant.

And then there's Katniss. She's the one making the decision - peace or war. On paper, its peace anyday. Katniss has seen both Peeta and Gale's hardships - Gale is a metaphor for who she could have been. Bitter, angry and hateful. It's not unjustified hatred but under Kantian ethics, murder is always wrong. Katniss does not want to retaliate because it's a vicious cycle of violence.

As far as we know, the capitol don't really pay for all they do. I know if I was a district citizen who suffered, I'd want capitol citizens to feel the same way. That is not to say that it is ethical, but it is not unjustified.

It would be more of a fair argument if Peeta and Gale suffered equally, but can you really quantify suffering. Their experiences shape them. Its easier for Peeta to want mercy for the capitol because he wasn't starved his whole life. And Peeta's stance is the right one.

But see, that's why we say complex character and not good person. Because the decisions aren't malicious in intent, just with clashing personal values to the norm. Like, bffr, half the people online hating on this guy would NOT have stood for mercy for the capitol.

(anyway have a nice day this was my ethics essay plan and I'd better get a 9 on it or else <333)

[yujeong]

Hello everyone. I'm currently losing my mind.

BOC released a new teaser for the final episode of DFF, in order to promote their live event for it and it gave me so many thoughts. In case you haven't seen it, it's this one on Instagram (they've also posted it on Twitter).

It's so trippy and cool and it gave us a lot of good shots of all the characters and what haunts them in regards to Non, but I'll focus on Tee and White, because I have my biases and that's so valid of me.

(I'll assume everything in the trailer is symbolic, like in the first trailer they had released and do my analysis with that assumption in mind.)

Long post ahead:

After we get a brief montage of moments we've already seen in the show with some beautiful background music (it's this one, I love it), we see the brothers and then we start seeing everyone's fears. We see Fluke being scared of the police catching him, we see Top being scared of a haunting, bloody Non chasing him in the forest and then,

we see Tee.

Tee is holding Non's knife in his hands, looking arguably disgusted with it (with himself). The scene cuts to three consecutive visuals which you have to pause the teaser to see clearly. I tried my best here, apologies if the quality is bad.

Tee feels guilt for what happened to Non. I think everyone can understand this by now. He observes the knife in his hands drowning in this feeling, and it creates the image of himself pointing the knife directly onto Non's stomach, who's wearing the T-shirt he wore the day he got drugged and taken away to Tee's uncle. It's very intriguing to me how Non seems to either be trying to stop him or urging Tee to stab him. We'll find out soon enough what's the case.

But the real winner is the two images after that.

Because they involve White.

OK first things first, the shot is gorgeous. I love the colors and the framing and everything about it.

They're inside what seems to be a gaming room, which I'll assume is where they probably met, based on the Without Me MV BOC put out a few weeks ago.

(Notice how the color pallette is the same, too)

Tee is wearing his school uniform (stuck in the past, stuck to Non), while White is wearing the clothes from the cabin (in the present, away from Non but not really). They already are in two different timelines, which is also evident by their positions - Tee is a few steps behind White in the visual.

What caught my attention, besides everything else, was those shiny things on the floor. I can't see them very well, but in my opinion, they're condom wrappers. They go all the way back, symbolizing the duration of the relationship between Tee and White.

The interesting thing here, to me, is how they stop just before Tee's body, and then reappear after him, in front of White, with some of them dipped in blood.

A lot of people, me included, think NonWhite is a possibility, which makes this choice here very interesting. I'll grab onto it with two hands and wait to see what will be revealed tomorrow.

Speaking of Non, I think it's fair to assume the blood on the floor is Non's blood, which makes White staring directly into it become another version of Non, narrative wise. Both innocent boys entangled in Tee's life, both suffering because of Tee. My good friend @wretchedamaranth told me it reminded them of this painting of Narcissus by Caravaggio: White is looking at himself, as if the blood has become a mirror.

Which makes the next visual even more telling: blood separated by a thin line (it's almost blurred but it isn't, White becomes Non becomes White in Tee's eyes). On the right, the big amount is Non's, on the left, White's shadow is creeping into the shot.

It's White's blood. White is going to die.

We get zero things on White besides this. Absolutely none. Does this mean White is indeed a bystander in all of this? Should we take the words of Fuaiz here at face value?

(Source: DFF BTS Ep10)

Fuaiz could be talking about the scene we have seen, not what will come after. But he could just as well be talking in general about White as a character.

All I have to say is: Brace yourselves, fellow TeeWhite fans. We're in for a tragedy.

[liwaywaydreamer]

My Savior (Ch. 1)

(Time travel au, Royalty au, BTS x Reader)

Synopsis: As a hopeless med student that has been accustomed to the roller coaster of mishaps in life, you were sure nothing could get worse than the current situation you’re in. Unfortunately, that thought didn’t include being transported back in the 1400s, nor did it include you being an apparent reincarnation of the person you hated most. Now, can this get any worst?

Pairing: BTS x reader

Warnings: Inaccurate history, angst, bystander effect, verbal abuse (reader received some insults and humiliated), harmful thoughts, implied politics (in connection only to the story, there are no real politician mentioned here), corruption in politics, unreliable narrator (if I forgot something, feel free to comment or send an ask?)

A/n: university life is shit and I was eyeing for this to be at 5k words but if I stuck to that, I wouldn’t finish this. If you like it, please reblog. Reblogs are worth more than likes here right?

Masterlist

Chapter 1: Like fate, like destiny

You're fucked.

Two words you continuously repeat in your head as you struggle to gather the mess of thesis papers you've left messily across your table the night before. Glancing at your alarm clock not surprisingly on the floor blaring 10:30 at you, sporting a dent not so hidden even if you're three feet away, (a surprising quality for such a cheap thing).

Your class starts at 8.

You tried your best to get to your university as quickly as you can, wishing time would stop a little, or even just go back, afraid of what is about to come. Despite your efforts not to get annoyed (and failing miserably) with the bodies you bumped into on the way and the occasional yelling here and there — from the moment you almost forgot to pay the bus fare to when you're facing your professor right now in front of the faculty lounge, the same professor which you needed to pass your research to— coffee splashed onto his shirt, a cup on the floor, and you on the receiving end of his anger.

He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, a gesture that you might have found endearing if he had been more physically appealing. You waited with bated breath, so used to his antics. Although some might see this as an attempt for him to control his anger, you however can see past his huge ego and idiotic narcissism, he was only doing this to attract more traction, the audience for your humiliation.

His prolonged sigh was your calm before the storm.

"You can't do anything right, do you?" he sneered as if trying to prove a point to the spectators, relishing in every second of your embarrassment. 

If being a disappointment was a job, you'll be the CEO in no time.

"Sir, I'm really sorry, I didn't mean—"

"SHUT UP!" he screamed as he loosens his necktie. You can't do anything but wait and hope that whatever he does next would suffice for how much you've messed up time and time again.

"You, what can you do right?" With each word, he poked and prodded you, pushing you closer and closer to the deep end. You whimpered, trying to not lose control but failing miserably as there was nothing that you could do to stop it, and whether you were just failing by your standards or the fact that he does not care, he continued his barrage of insults, never letting up despite your attempts to apologize.

"How long do I need to put up with you?" he slurred as he now prods your shoulder, harder and harder with each word.

"Sir, I'm sor— "

"HUH?!" a smack and you were on the ground. All the people in the vicinity just stood there, watching, unwilling to help— being a mindless watcher to the abuse, the true definition of a bystander effect.

Why is it in every discipline, violence needs to be included? Is that how we're programmed to learn? Through nothing but violence? You hoped for someone to help you even if you already knew that no one would. Yet, you hoped still.

If this was your first day in school, you would've fought back. You would've stood up for your pride. That a spilled coffee is not enough to humiliate you like this and that not every misfortune is because of you. But you know better; this isn't your first day, nor is it your second. You know how the system works and who it favors, and unfortunately, it doesn't favor you.

"...waste of space. If it weren't for your parents..." You didn't hear the other words he spoke as he walked away not forgetting to throw the papers he held— papers that were your best effort at reaching your dreams, thrown away with your hopes of being better than what they said.

Needless to say, you were suspended due to behavior misconduct; words that you no longer know the meaning of anymore. You're back to your cage-like rented dorm, whilst your head is everywhere but.

What a cruel joke, you thought. The first time you wanted something so badly for yourself and had dedicated your whole life to had to happen with the world's hatred for you was at its peak. Or had it ever really stopped?

You gripped the handle of your balisong, tracing the delicate and intricate designs you engraved on it as waves of atrocious thoughts crashed into your mind. How morbid, you mused. The same thing that you want to hurt yourself with right now is the same thing that made you feel grounded. You're aware that these thoughts are anything but good, but you're also aware of the fact that no one is going to help you.

Simply because no one wants to.

A medical career was not your parents' choice nor was it ever in their choice, but it was in yours.

You're not unconscious of the fact that a career in the medical field is a lot to take financially, and to be the only one in the medical field in a family of lawyers? You alone destroyed the dreams put on you by your mother who vicariously lived through you, but you wanted it.

And you thought that was enough.

But now, as you sit back on the barren floor of your sparsely furnished room that you once hoped would've at least shown evidence of the life of someone healthy in their early twenties, you had nothing other than your worn-out bed on the corner and a circular dinner table doubling as your makeshift desk, cut off from all financial stability that your parents could've provided you if you only heed to their wishes. Now, you think about whether your current situation is worth the sense of independence you fought so hard for.

Was it a foolish decision to stand your ground? To try to live your life on your own terms? Because you know for a fact that it doesn't matter if you followed every whim of your parents as they will always find something wrong and below their standards with you. With every breath, every change of clothes, every food that you intake, even your education— you were taught that everything that they have given you was a debt you owed them, and because of that they are within their rights to choose for you.

After all, parents only want the best for their children, don't they?

You are by no means the most intelligent person on the campus, nor were you trying to be. But you're committed to what you chose, and you hoped that that commitment can be seen through your effort and hard work. And yet, despite your commitment, those words, those words still echoed in your mind— you can't seem to un-hear those words.

“If it weren't for your parents.”

You wanted to choose a life separate from them, to forge a path of your own. But no matter how much it pains you to admit, you know now, clearer than ever, that it does not matter how far you run, you'd always be hidden beneath their shadows.

To only be recognized as the black sheep of your family.

Instead of indulging your self-pity and sulking alone in your room with a blade on sight much longer than you had intended to, you opt to browse the internet for some fun things to do; a piece of advice you got from the internet since seeing a psychiatrist would be a luxury for you.

And whether it was your misfortune running out finally or yet another adventure of mishaps waiting to unfold an announcement caught your attention:

"Join us for a free tour down the historical lane to commemorate the House of Kim, with events set to reenact the life our ancestors had lived!"

There were more words to the article but as you read on, your eyes fell on the tour's schedule.

"Gyeongbokgung tour is going to take place at 1:30 pm," you murmured to yourself.

It was an opportunity you couldn't miss, a rare sight to see. Despite the mental baggage weighing you down, this was a chance to experience something new and forget about your troubles, even if just for a little while. Maybe this was the way of the gods trying to make up for all the shit storm your life is at right now, but whatever it was, you'll take it.

So, without hesitation, you got up, grabbed your purse, and with the little money you have left, you headed out. You knew you had to take on more shifts at the store or find other jobs to cover for your sudden trip, as your dream of becoming a doctor was fading quickly and surely anyway. But for now, all you cared about was the prospect of exploring a historical place that had opened its doors on a day it usually wouldn't.

Arguably, no one other than yourself knows what decisions made on a whim can do to anyone. Whether this is your intuition telling you to go back to your room to help you or just to spite you away from society, you didn't dwell long on the thought.

All you needed to know is that you're drowning quickly, and you would hold unto anything, even a pair of gilded chains to let you breathe again.

"Gyeongbokgung Palace, also known as Gyeongbok Palace, was the primary royal residence and the largest of the five grand palaces that still exist today in South Korea. Built-in 1395, this..."

As you don't have a lot of money to waste, you stuck to the free guides the palace provides although not very effective when you're standing in the back of 50 people. And looking at how detached and uninterested your tour guide is whilst speaking, without a doubt, you knew that this was just an additional job to her. Not really enough to complain about since the constant chattering of the people around you easily engulf her almost robotic voice anyways.

This trip already cost you more than you expected and standing still to nonsense chatter was not part of your nonexistent plan. So, with the palace map in hand, you left the group with ease.

"Gwanghwamun: the southern gate that became the main gate after some time. It is one of Seoul's iconic sights, having been restored after being largely destroyed by the war," you read while gazing up at the magnificent building in front of you, the swaying of windchimes singing their lullabies in the background. Your eyes carefully scanned every nook and cranny, not wanting to forget this beautiful sight. Although you can't be sure if the scenery is exactly as it looked when it was originally built, the idea of having remnants of the past soothes your soul.

You've always been intrigued about the things that have already happened, or perhaps that's an understatement as your mind always seems to be occupied with thoughts about what they could have done differently and the effects of it on the modern world. Whether it really is fascinating to you or just a form of escapism, you don't want to know. All you do know is that you're a product of the modern world, but something within you suggests that itself was a mistake.

Especially when the Kim dynasty has the best-looking aristocrats you had ever seen.

No, you weren't attracted to them, you tried to defend yourself from your inner turmoil as you gaze upon the paintings displayed. You just know how to appreciate beauty when you see one, even if it's just paintings on a wall. This was once again your Philip Hamilton but with much more injustice. At least with Philip, there were actual pictures of him to bestow the world with his beauty. And although you can commend the talents of the painters of the past considering they did not have the best art supplies during their time, you still cannot grasp the idea that these people existed. Not when they are reduced to the mere splat of colors made to resemble a person.

You couldn't clearly see the features of each man in the paintings, but it's not really anyone's fault for it's just the evidence of time. Nevertheless, your admiration for them never lessened, because it's more than their artificial perfection that deserved your admiration and respect. They were also the ones who did more than any other aristocrats ever did for their people. They were the true embodiment of a regime existing not for the regime itself, perfectly aware of who gave them power. Although yes, it wasn't a democracy, but even democracy has its problems.

All you can say is they did their best to lead their people. At least for some time, as they were the foundation that made South Korea what it is now. Sure, their reign could've ended better, still, they were an integral part of history.

And history should never be forgotten.

Although it disheartens you that their achievements and sacrifices are slowly being forgotten; the wars they've won are now taken for granted, you understand that life goes on and people have their own lives to live. It's another reminder that time doesn't stop for anyone.

As the wind chimes fluttering in the breeze, abruptly ceasing your thoughts. Somehow, you felt a sense of belongingness, despite their faintness that could easily be muffled by the chirping of birds. Nonetheless, it was truly fitting for the place as it only elevated the experience the palace could only give.

You couldn't quite understand why wind chimes would be placed in Geunjeongjeon, other than to elevate the experience, but since the cold breeze was constant ever since you stepped onto the palace grounds, you're certain that the people who are in charge knew exactly what they're doing.

You continued observing the place, trying to imagine what events had happened on the concrete that was paved hundreds of years ago. Was it quiet? Were the roads bustling with people constantly? Or were there just only a handful of people seen from time to time walking along?

You were so deep into your imagination that for a few seconds, you felt as though you were transported back in time. You were seeing groups of three to four consorts walking and talking to each other, palace women walking briskly with a basket on their sides, and a few eunuchs scolding some servants who probably messed something up. And then suddenly, everything came to halt when a booming voice from behind you commanded, "Make way for the Prince!"

As you turned to face the source of the voice, you found yourself making eye contact with a man whose attire you could easily recognize from the K-dramas you'd watched, and even with the distance between you, you can't help but feel he was looking straight at you.

"Excuse me, is this yours?" A little girl's voice interrupted your daydream, her voice so cute as she lightly tugs your shirt, holding out your phone.

"Oh, thank you so much!" you exclaimed, realizing that you were in your head so much that you didn't feel your phone fall off your pocket. You would have another problem added to your bulk of problems if it weren't for the girl.

"No problem, have a good day!" she gleamed brightly and ran off. The kid was so energetic you couldn't even give her something back. 

As you opened your map once again, you accidentally dropped your phone and with it, you see a pocket watch on the ground. And it didn't take you to think twice to know to whom it belongs. Hurriedly, you followed the kid toward the path of the Hyangwonjeong pavilion.

"Where did she go?" you murmured, you were sure that you had seen her walking towards the pavilion, but as you see the bare grounds of the place, you realized you had lost track of her. The pavilion was nearly empty except for a few tourists, and you felt torn between searching for the girl to return the watch or continuing to explore the palace grounds.

As you were going to turn around and try to find the girl, you stopped in your tracks. After all, did you really spend your money to travel here just to end up focusing on returning a girl's missing watch when the palace was only open for a limited time? It would be a waste of time going here if you didn't enjoy your time, right? As you stood there contemplating your decision, the constant breeze grew stronger, making the wind chimes nearby flutter and although messy, they still somehow created the most beautiful melodies. The sound disrupted your thoughts, but somehow provided an answer to your dilemma. You decided to keep the watch and continue exploring the palace. After all, you didn't want to waste your money and time searching for someone who would likely be enjoying the sights with her guardians. You could always return the watch to her later.

As you stroll on the bridge named Chwihyanggyo, your fingers lightly tapping the railings, you thought of one thing that could make this experience a million percent better.

"Why are hanbok so fucking expensive?" you huffed, frustrated at yourself for not being able to afford one. But since you can't do anything about it, you continued walking with a pout toward the buildings that housed the aristocrats of the past. The melodies of the windchimes grow louder as you come closer. And that's when it hits you.

How do you keep hearing them considering you haven't seen one since your first step on the palace? If this was a scene in a drama, you would've thought that the windchimes were following you, serving as the background music for the main protagonist's introduction. But this was no drama nor were you a main protagonist material, and you couldn't help but feel curious about it.

As you stepped inside the pavilion, you felt like you were slowly reaching your dream of going back in time as you gaze at the antique furniture that filled the place. Your fingers trailed the rough edges of the desk, which had subtle engravings that seemed unreadable at first glance: 다 괜찮을거야.

Everything will be alright.

The phrase repeated in your head as you wondered what it meant. Was it a message from the past or just a meaningless inscription? You felt a sense of longing to uncover the mystery behind it, and you wouldn't have noticed it if you hadn't felt it, but the pavilion was closing soon, and you had to leave to look around more. 

As you were about to exit, the chimes called out to you again, tempting you to get closer and follow their sweet melody— almost as if they could sense the curiosity in your mind. You followed the sound until you stumbled upon a backroom, which looked like a storage room that had been converted into a makeshift bedroom for the caretaker. You stepped across the redline, both figuratively and literally, unable to resist the urge to explore further.

From the balcony, you caught a glimpse of the wind chimes dangling from a branch over the lake. The constant ringing didn't falter from luring you in. You scanned the area for anyone who could catch you and when you saw no one, you leaped over the balcony and headed toward the chimes. There was something about the chimes that piqued your interest, but whether it was the chimes themselves or the confusion of how you keep hearing them from afar, you weren't sure, and nor were you going to find your answer.

Because as the popular idiom goes, curiosity killed the cat, and with a slip up your feet into the lake you go.

♛♛♛♛♛♛♛

The row of daisies sat atop the windowsill, bathed in the golden light of daybreak. The silent whims of the wind filled the space, stirring the dried leaves on the small makeshift table below, made with old planks with jagged edges, where jars of medicines sat alongside a worn notebook filled with hastily scribbled notes. There was the usual sound of footsteps and the creaking of floorboards. The palace's physicians and attendants began to trickle in, their visits indicated by the soft chimes of wind chimes hanging above the door.

And the wind blew one more time. As if it's intentionally done to send a message as the image of blurred sketches comes through.

All was well.

Until the peaceful scene was shattered by the thunderous galloping of horses that had shaken the rooms. Until there was the clash of metal on metal that filled the air as swords were unsheathed. And until there were faces with features you couldn't make up.

Muffling, shuffling, screaming, shouting.

It was only chaos and bloodshed, and as it worsened, the ringing in your ears grew louder and louder, drowning out all other sounds and leaving you with nothing but a sense of overwhelming disorientation.

Then, just as suddenly, it all heeds to a stop. The ringing faded away, and nothing could be heard other than the flipping of the pages, the smooth gliding of a pen, and the wind chimes outside the window that began to tinkle once again. You looked out the window and saw a tranquil scene: rows of green grass and golden hay, and the majestic curve of a mountain in the distance. There were no whims nor whispers of the wind.

All was quiet and still.

As if everything was at its stalemate; the equilibrium.

And then, as if a stick had been broken, it happened.

The scene began to shift and blur, colors and shapes warping and twisting like a nightmare. The ground trembled beneath your feet; the tremors so strong that you could've sworn you felt it all as images flickered before your eyes. You saw a crowd of men gathered around someone lying on the cold hard floor with colors ranging from black to white, their sorrows crystal-clear even with the constant ringing. Then you saw a field of yellow flowers, a scenery of green and gray with men running toward something in the distance, their faces twisted in anguish, kneeling and begging in the middle of a field.

The images kept shifting and switching back and forth. Everything was in chaos as if fate itself was unsure of what was to come. But through it all, you struggled to hold onto each fleeting image, desperate to make sense of the chaos that surrounded you. And then, with a sudden jolt, you were pulled back into reality, coughing up water as you gasped for air. As you opened your eyes, the last remnants of the dream slipped away, and you were left with only the memory of the intense emotions it had stirred within you.

Dazed, and confused. You looked up, meeting the gaze of the man who had pulled you from the water, his eyes filled with concern and relief.

You were certain you hadn't met him before, but you could've sworn that those almond-shaped eyes were something you could never forget, etched into your memory with an inexplicable familiarity.

To be continued...

Thanks for reading!

[sprout-senior]

some nightmare headcanon type things, bc some thoughts invaded my brain and i needed to get them out(in depth headcanon shit under the cut)

the ‘nightmare’ we know now is a completely different person from the former guardian of negativity, though he possesses all the same memories. he goes by the same name, brings up past events, and generally acts as if he’s the same person but evil. he’s apathetic and calm in his downtime, but he becomes manic/psychotic when wreaking havoc and feeding off negativity. if he has a soft spot for the ghost child residing in his head, he will never admit it or intentionally show it.

the real nightmare is dead, but his consciousness remains tied to the entity that took over his body, an echo of a soul. he spends a lot of time dormant/“asleep” due to the pain of constantly bearing witness to this parasite’s atrocities. he will always stay awake during any interactions with dream. he misses his brother so much. there have been a couple occasions where he has saved his life by wreaking absolute havoc in his shared mind(he SHRIEKS. he screams like a banshee and will not let up for even a second until dream is safe). this takes up a lot of energy, so he reserves this method for dream only for fear of not being able to use it when it matters most. his morals have… eroded, a little; he simply does not have the capacity to truly care for anyone but dream. 500 years of being a helpless bystander to mass murder was bound to desensitize him. as it stands now, he’s not about to waste precious energy on random people, even if it brings him a nonzero amount of guilt.

they refer to each other as moon and terror respectively, to avoid the headache of sharing a name. in downtime, they’re almost amicable; neither are much for conversation, but they will read together and generally let each other exist in peace and quiet.

moon knows that the pain and misery he feels is not his alone. he is intimately aware of terror’s inner struggles, and is not afraid to use it against him in arguments. he haunts him, tells him everything he doesn’t want to hear, laughs in his face when he lashes out in anger. terror retaliates by describing exactly how he wants to kill dream, insisting that moon won’t be able to do anything about it. their arguments usually end abruptly, either due to being interrupted or just running out of steam.

moon will never be able to exist independently from terror. hypothetically, he could interact with the world etc if terror relinquished that control, but that isn’t happening any time soon(or maybe ever).

the incidents where terror lets dream go leads him to believe that his brother is still in there, which… isn’t entirely inaccurate, but not in the way he thinks. terror holds no love or care for dream, and very firmly wants him dead.

just looking at the code, you would not be able to find moon’s presence. there are some people who could deduce it based on terror’s behavior, but only if they’ve experienced it themselves(dust, cross, etc) and they’re REALLY paying attention. dust is currently the only one who knows what’s up, having walked in on terror arguing with nobody one too many times. even then, he’s only going off an extremely educated guess; he’s not about to cause trouble with his boss.

[codenamesazanka]

418 Thoughts

Love how The Walk became a non-issue. I had imagined that when the memory came, Deku would see all the bystanders ignoring Tenko and feel rightfully disgusted, understanding what Shigaraki had complained about in Jaku and connecting with his own experience of a selfish mob of civilians, and then chase after Tenko to become the one who reaches out a hand. Instead The Walk (so far) has become a two panel flashback. Deku does get to see those memories and feel those emotions - Tenko says 'Let Go', because he believes he doesn't deserve the help, he's being punished for killing his family - and Deku doesn't let go, instead comforting Tenko that he's here regardless, so in a way The Walk is addressed... but in doing so, it feels like the bystanders are resolved of their complicity. Maybe even that Tenko was indeed being ignored and should be ignored for killing his family and being born with his hands—but luckily Deku is heroic enough to still help him despite that. I've said before that the solutions the manga offers isn't that things should change on a large scale, only that there should be one exceptional person who happens to be at the scene to help the victim endure (and not eventually lash out). This is kinda a continuation of that. Addressing how the family turned a blind eye to Kotarou's maltreatment of Tenko? Addressing how the streets full of people ignored a five-year-old? The memory foray Deku goes through here doesn't do any of that. What Deku does is stop Tenko's Decay from going wild by offering up his own body (which is very brave of him!), and to tell Tenko he's here (which is good and needed, someone should be in Tenko's corner!), but that this is the save, this specific solution, sort of reframes the problem then as an individual problem: That Tenko has a quirk that kills, and feels the hatred/catharsis/sadness/confusion that allowed the quirk to go out of control; and that the right Hero wasn't at the scene to stop him. (if we get the reveal that AFO gave Tenko a quirk, that this all becomes irrelevant though.) (Also, last week, Nana apologizes not for abandoning Kotarou in the first place, but for not being strong enough to defeat AFO and come home. Kinda misses the point in the same way, imo) I have confessed before that I don't like Deku as a character, but I really had wanted him to see The Walk, to understand this side of Hero Society. And him chasing Tenko through the streets, to symbolically resist the lure of 'what everyone else is doing/what is normal/follow the routine of society' and do the simple thing of taking the step to reach out a hand to a lost soul - that would be the pure heroism of helping. But it seems the story doesn't want this, and I have to accept it. Okay.

The League showing up and Shigaraki stating that he needs to be a Hero for the villains is so good. That he's doing this for them. That even if his own hatred fades and he's empty, what's left is his friendship and innate heroism for the outcasts. ...However, given how it's turning out all the villains were actually mostly mistaken about problems in society and nothing major needs to be changed, they only needed a Hero bestie and to endure whatever life threw at them, this becomes kinda sad and misguided. Poor Shigaraki/Tenko. He thinks he's doing this for his friends, he thinks he's being a hero-villain, but he's actually just making things worse. Not even, actually, because he's never made a decision in his life.

I do think it’s interesting that it’s AFO who says this. “Even though until now, you haven’t chosen a single thing.” Like, if it was Deku who said this, or if Shigaraki had realized it himself, it would be seen as the truth to unconditionally accept, right? “Hey Shigaraki, wake up, your whole life has been engineered by this evil megalomaniac. You don’t truly want any of this.” Exposing AFO’s lies, so that Shigaraki can ditch them and now find something real. Accepting the truth is the resolution; it’s freedom, it’s salvation, it’s the light. Challenging it in any way, even for the smaller stuff (“No, but it was I who chose the League.”), is denial, or doesn’t subtract from the larger overall point. But here, it’s AFO saying this, it’s the Bad Guy saying this, and it feels like it's set up for a rejection. Like, AFO is being full-blown evil, condescending and dismissive and hurtful - you’re weak, you’re useless, you have never chosen a single thing - and so it’s time for Shigaraki to prove him wrong. Or for Deku to help Shigaraki prove him wrong. It’s not the most clear cut of lines, but I do think it’s there.

Saw a theory that with AFO posing as someone from a construction company, it means AFO built the Shimura House. It's absolutely beautiful in how it destroys everything that was built up about Shigaraki (correctly) disliking society. “Everything I’ve witnessed in this world of ours… lead to the existence of that house…” - but really, it’s all engineered by AFO. Everything Shigaraki hates is actually created by AFO. All the rejection he thought he felt was actually fake. At this point I’m expecting The Walk to also have been engineered by AFO - he used a quirk to make everyone turn away or something (which would track with The Walk being a non-issue as mentioned above). At this point I’m also expecting the house that AFO built to be emitting some brain waves that forced Kotarou to slap Tenko, and made the rest of the family cowardly (and after all, AFO is responsible for Kotarou becoming bitter and cold by forcing Nana to abandon her son). I have to applaud it. 

[minsarasarahair]

I like that some Tian Ya Ke fans are also Liu Yao fans. The two are probably different as whole, Wuxia and Xianxia but I feel there are some aspect of the story that quite similar than you expected. I can see that the author reuse the same themes. Its just Liu Yao is more well-written while Tian Ya Ke is one of the author's early works so its not that polished yet but the message is still there.

The more one became stronger, the more they are near to their death - TYK: Wen Kexing was confused why Zhou Zishu is suddenly stronger. Zhou Zishu explained he became weak after he received the last nail but his strength will come back once his time is up. LY: Yan Zhengming as sword cultivator way to continue his immortality and become stronger is to keep fighting but the problem is the more he fight, the fight will eventually become harder so sword cultivators are rare and have shorter life span.

Found Family - TYK: Wen Kexing found his family in the little girl he raise in Ghost Valley, the dying beggar he met in the street and the orphaned boy. Wanderers find their home in person they treasure. LY: The lazy rich kid, the mischievous older brother, the poor family's middle child, the temple's beggar, and the neglected half-yao half-human girl found their family in Fuyao sect. It might be rundown sect but they are very close and will die to protect each other.

Wanderers finding their home - TYK: From doing heinous crimes, they find a way back to humanity through finally finding the person they will spend the rest of their lives with. LY: Fuyao sect kids spend years not being able to return to their sect to be safe and later realized the lock to their sect need them, 6 disciples to be completed so that they can return home.

Clingy older gong & repressed bitchy younger shou/Power Couple - TYK: Wen Kexing is the dutiful malewife and Zhou Zishu is his drunkard husband who barely know household chores LY: Yan Zhengming is the beautiful rich whiny malewife and Cheng Qian is the hardworking stubborn husband

Values mortality - TYK: WenZhou have this simple YOLO life style who want to grow old together instead of typical Wuxia obsessed in competing with strong opponents and Ye Baiyi is not fond of his immortality so he climb down the mountain to experience the mortal life before dying. LY: Despite being "immortal" but not really cultivators, the Fuyao sect teach their disciples the beauty of mortality/humanity. Han Muchun believe that ascension to immortality is death and thinks everything has its end. There's no such thing as immortality.

Different Spin to Genre - TYK: A wuxia where the MCs are just bystanders and don't care about the martial world or any treasures that make one invincible. They just want a peaceful life with their disciple and grow old together. LY: A xianxia where a sect value mortality than immortality or ascension. They felt like humans with superpowers and long lifespan but not exactly immortals.

Not ambitious MCs - TYK: They don't really care becoming strong in martial world because they are jaded and strong enough to protect themselves just like Wen Kexing's bedtime story to Chengling where the protagonist came back to peacefully live their life instead of looking for new stronger enemies. LY: Yan Zhengming was specially chosen to be the sect leader because of his carefree and strong mindset that don't forget their real self no matter what happens. Cheng Qian started ambitious at first but in the end, he realized that protecting his home is only what matters to him and even refused immortality.

[aaronieros]

fuck it. short tumblr fic because there's no way i finish this during The Laddening. this is the madatobi tsukuyomi idea i have been ruminating on. warning for implied/referenced past necrophilia and questionable consent due to genjustu hatesex but this is just a conceptual preamble and not actual smut anyway. cannot stress enough that they do not fuck in this it's just that they're about to

It's a mistake, looking up at Madara from the ground. Reanimated, his body is immortal, and the different pattern of Madara's eye doesn't set off Tobirama's instinct to avoid the Sharingan. That may be why he lets his guard down, why he looks up from where he's pinned to lock eyes with Madara one last time.

That, or it's an old habit resurfacing. As soon as his eyes graze across Madara's, there's a sudden freedom to his body, and the noise of the ongoing war has been quieted. Madara hasn't bothered to change the scenery otherwise, but Tobirama knows where he is.

He stands, waits for Madara to state his purpose, because he surely can't have brought Tobirama here for the same reason he always used to? Not now, not while the whole fucking world is ending at his hands?

"I know what you did to my body," Madara casually tells him as he approaches.

Tobirama has to admit he never thought he'd be confronted for that, particularly by Madara himself. How, exactly, does he even know?

"You just couldn't resist letting your hands wander, linger, once you could finally touch me for real. I was only a little put off when I found out. There was something triumphant in the implicit confession that you would have instigated after all, if not for your pride."

"If not for who you are," Tobirama corrects. "Dead, you were quite agreeable. No mood swings, no Sharingan. No danger."

"Please. As if the Sharingan didn't singlehandedly allow our secret little trysts. As if the danger didn't turn you on."

There's little point in lying to Madara within his Tsukuyomi. For all that he's done, he has managed to keep his initial word that whatever occurs in this world remains confined to it, never to be mentioned in the real world.

"If it didn't, I would have killed you for trying, that first time," Tobirama tells him.

"As if it's a given that you would be able to. As if the only thing keeping me alive was your mercy."

It was the opposite, he knows. From the first time Madara caught him in Tsukuyomi, claiming he only wanted to have a private discussion-- one that spiraled and spiraled and spiraled until Madara was touching him and Tobirama couldn't think anymore-- his life should have been forfeit.

A snap of Madara's fingers sees Tobirama's armor removed, but he likes slipping his hands under Tobirama's clothes too much to bare him completely. Tobirama never understood it. He never understood why Madara even started this, nor why he kept coming back for more. The simple triumph of leaving Tobirama a sweaty mess, impossibly hard and unsatisfied within those few mere seconds that pass in the real world?

He has no decency, this man. Madara once blinked Tobirama into Tsukuyomi out in public, choosing to represent the real world, bystanders and all, within the dream world. He had them all witness, had them all react, as he fucked Tobirama in front of the whole village, and all Tobirama could do was try in vain to hide how much he enjoyed that extra effect, lest he encourage Madara to try something so obscene for real next time.

But why even do this? He knows Madara holds no fondness for him, knows he alone bears the majority of Madara's hatred. It could be a release of frustration, but it isn't even real. It's essentially just a shared fantasy, one Tobirama feels all too intimately.

"We have eight hours in this world," Madara pivots, ready to begin. "I'll be using all of them to the fullest."

It's definitely some form of psychological torture. It's about humiliation, domination. It's the fact that he got Tobirama to agree to this so many damn times. Madara must take so much pleasure in watching Tobirama submit to the power of his eyes.

"I think I'll make you come a hundred times," Madara muses with a brush of his hand down Tobirama's abdomen, but the claim gives Tobirama pause even as he instinctually shivers.

"In eight hours?" he questions, gears turning in the wrong direction entirely for this predicament.

"Don't criticize my math at a time like this," Madara scolds him.

"Not only would that be terribly unpleasant, but you won't manage it."

Madara's eyes narrow, taking Tobirama's logic as a challenge.

"Have you forgotten that I make the rules in this world?" he asks, and then his hand slides up Tobirama's shirt, splaying on his abs. His skin is oversensitized, Madara's touch hot and electric. If it managed to feel like this the whole time...

Well, it's the last time they'll ever do this. Tobirama could indulge, since he's already here.

(He's thought the same thing a dozen times in the past.)

[lord-squiggletits]

Something else that makes me sympathetic to Pharma's situation is like. Idk if there's an actual term for this or if someone smarter and more academic wrote it about some real life context that actually matters.

But, so we've already established among Pharma stans that the circumstances at Delphi were blackmail/torture with no real way out that wouldn't involve Pharma being responsible for people getting killed (either killing patients for the deal or having everyone die bc he failed his end of the deal).

And I feel like while "he's still in the wrong because he killed people" is part of it, another sort of implicit part is the idea that Pharma should've been willing to take more personal risk, maybe even risk dying? I mean, Ratchet does ask "why didn't you just detonate it near the DJD" (to which Pharma responds that he did try to get Sonic and Boom to do it, but they refused) so like

Idk I feel like we do have this social notion of martyrs as a very romantic ideal, people you can praise for being so brave and strong and righteous that they ended their own lives for their cause, while you can also coo about how sad and tragic it is that dying is what it took for them to do the right thing. But at the same time I feel like in reality, having an expectation that people become martyrs is kind of a toxic social norm bc like. It's very easy to demand that others sacrifice their lives for some Ultimate Moral Good when you yourself aren't experiencing the same hardships as they are. And ultimately it is kind of fucked up to tell someone "the moral thing you should've done was risk your life/kill yourself" because asking someone to pay their life to do the right thing is no small request. And sure, the typical response would be to call them a "coward" for caring more about saving their own skin instead of doing the right thing... but again, death is a really scary thing and self-preservation is a really strong instinct, so it kind of feels like having this binary view of "you're either a Brave Hero who sacrifices your life for everyone else or a Dirty Coward who's too scared of dying to do what's right" is kind of fucked up?

I guess the best way to describe it is that if someone willingly gives up their life as a sacrifice to others, it can be a noble thing because it's a choice they made willingly, but if it becomes a Moral Standard that in order to be a Good Person you have to be unafraid of throwing your life away and if you aren't willing to die you're a Cowardly Bad Person, that's when it becomes toxic.

Idk, I guess how this ties back to Pharma is that he was never in a position where he expected to make these kinds of moral decisions/ultimatums. He's a doctor who doesn't even get into combat, his job is to heal and not to kill, he's behind the front lines in a hospital that's supposed to be a safe, neutral place for him to heal people. So in the face of suddenly having a "murder people on behalf of me, or I murder everyone you swore to protect" ultimatum thrust upon him, I understand why Pharma wasn't """"""""""brave enough"""""""""" to "do the right thing" (whatever that would've been in the case of Delphi). You could argue that maybe a frontliner soldier accepted the burden of possibly dying for their cause and they've become used to it as someone who lives that reality every single day, but I feel like for Pharma, who's a doctor and a protected non-combatant (from what we can tell), that sort of risking of his life/living with the fact his life could be snuffed out any day isn't something he would've been prepared for at all.

And for me personally, from an outsider's perspective, it strikes me as kind of unethical to go "oh well he should've just detonated the bomb himself even if it killed him" bc again, there's a difference between witnessing a moral conundrum as a bystander versus being the person living with it and being under time pressure where it's do-or-die. Just as part of my personal standards, I feel like death is such a huge consequence/burden of someone's actions (literally you are no longer alive, any potential you had left is cut short, you cease to exist on this plane) that it feels rather callous to go "Well you should've just been willing to die for your beliefs if you really cared that much!!!"

[k7l4d4]

K Reviews and Rants: Miraculous Ladybug Season 5! Episode 21

Alright, onto the episode that is supposedly meant to show Lila finally getting figured out.

Now, I'm gonna ignore the usual Lila Manipulates everyone BS. This episode has two big problems with it.

Firstly, it tries to present Miss Bustier and Damocles as reasonable authority figures... yet neither of them ever actually try and get the students' direct input or seriously question the out of character career requests for them. Additionally, it has Mylene get on a soapbox about kids "being forced to pick their futures so early in life" or something stupid like that. (Takes a deep breath) I literally had to change what I wanted to do for work three times growing up. Now, I'm not that old, I'll admit, but I have firsthand experience with having to make a change in career choice after making a decision. This episode treating Mylene as making some profound statement, when she's basically just rephrasing the simple fact that there's no guarantee a person is going to maintain the same career in life after school as some kind of criticism of the educational system. Now, I know NOTHING about the French Educational system... but when it tries to push an aesop like this right after literally showing everyone cheerfully and eagerly acting as if they didn't have a perfect idea of what they want to do in life, it just comes off as awkward. Oh, and them further making Adrien into a damsel in distress with nothing more of substance to him then his crush on Marinette was... uncomfortable on so many levels.

Secondly, this episode going full sympathetic retcon on Sabrina in the most blatant way possible. For a series that has done basically nothing with her besides have her be Chloe's goon, they are trying very hard to pretend she hasn't been Chloe's willing accomplice all this time. They are acting as if she's never gotten anyone hurt or damaged anyone's lives on Chloe's behalf before, despite this very season showing how she ratted out Marinette's "Crush" to Chloe in Derision and Chloe using that to play a mean prank on Marinette... and ignoring all the times she's lied and stolen on Chloe's request, without a hint of protest. It's hard to see Sabrina as an innocent bystander or dupe when this season is the first time she's ever shown any guilt or remorse for being Chloe's lackey... and it being the first time she's done something THIS bad doesn't really work when she's stating it's because her dad's a cop (when that's never mattered to her before) and because "helping Chloe has never hurt anyone" (which is just a straight-up lie). It feels less like she's turning on Chloe out of guilt or remorse and more because she's upset that Chloe is seemingly replacing her with Lila... when this episode really makes it feel more like Lila is making Chloe HER "Sabrina."

Anyway, rambling Forward over. Onto the review! As always, please forgive my profanity.

Episode 21: Confrontation

Okay, now we get the opening scene of Adrien struggling with an orientation form with Plagg pointing out how simple it is. Just... writing down your request for next year's school and your career goals. Admittedly, I can see why this would be hard with Adrien; bullshit writing decisions or not, Adrien struggling to figure out what he wants to do with his life makes perfect sense. Although I sincerely doubt that this would be a hardlocked "one and done" thing that is absolutely binding, because that would be utterly fucking stupid. Because if this kind of thing WERE absolutely binding, then you could have the biggest slacker in school write down the name of the fanciest, most exclusive school in the area that comes with a lot of perks and then slap down some stupid answer, and I doubt any school in the world would put up with something that easily abused.

...And we hear from Adrien that he isn't even writing down what HE wants, but what his father has DECIDED for him. REAL great development here, nice to know that the kid who literally BROKE OUT OF HIS OWN FUCKING HOUSE is still too chicken to figure out what he wants out of life. Also, the fact that they once again made Adrien's life decisions and attitudes be about someone else (how MARINETTE will feel about his dad making him move to London) is of course just fine. /s

Ugh, fine, I guess hearing Plagg show solidarity with Adrien is nice. Still kinda annoying, since Plagg is pretty much always just the goofball, rather than a serious individual.

Okay, so it looks like these orientation forms do have a safety check, in that the teachers review things with the students to see if they have the qualifications to go to their chosen school for their studies of choice... now how does this get ruined? Oh yeah, Marinette gets a "strange feeling" now that she and Alya aren't the class reps. Clearly this strange feeling has NOTHING to do with the person she KNOWS is a liar and manipulator who will screw over anyone for her own benefit is now the Class Rep, surely not!! Also, "entrusting us with their hopes and dreams!" Dramatic much? It's not as if they can't just apply to schools of their choice anyway... can they? I've got no fucking clue how the French Education System handles this crap.

Let's see what they wanna study...

Alya: Wants to be a Reporter, needs to specialize in Literature.

Nino: Movie Director. Weird how his love of music and DJing disappeared.

Mylene: "Defender of the Earth." Wow, they couldn't even pretend to have her put down a serious job, could they?

Ivan: Stay-at-home-dad. ...Huh, I honestly can't say anything snarky about that, it takes guts to be cool with that kind of life, I just hope he knows what that kind of commitment entails.

Rose: "Hairstylist," okay, not too weird... "For Unicorns." Never mind, they really aren't even pretending to have her be serious, they are straight-up insisting Rose is a delusional idiot. That might sound harsh, but come the FUCK on, there's a line between having an innocent idealism still, and unironically wanting a job that involves working with mythical creatures. Who knows, maybe Unicorns actually exist in MLB, I doubt that her job is even remotely applicable. Wait, she got told Unicorns don't exist... and changed it to "Hairstylist for Dragons."

Juleka: I couldn't even hear what she said, but given Marinette's comment on "that being SO you," I'm gonna assume it's something insanely stereotypically "goth."

Sabrina: A nurse. Because she "loves taking care of other people." I am cringing, because it sounds like they are trying to insist Sabrina being Chloe's enabler and minion is something positive that "Chloe tainted" or some shit like that. Also, she's never shown any indication of wanting to take care of people before, EVER.

Chloe: "I don't need to do anything since I'm already rich." They are seriously this fucking stupid. They can't even give her wanting to be something snobby and "powerful" that will let her pander to her own ego, they seriously are treating her like an unironic "Ideal Rich" stereotype. News flash, even RICH PEOPLE HAVE STUFF THEY LIKE TO DO. God fucking dammit.

Lila: I'm not even going to type her answer since it's a bare-faced lie meant to make her look good, which she even admits to.

Also, I'm genuinely confused on why we never got Nathaniel's, Max's, or Kim's. I'm not even gonna pretend to touch Alix's situation with a ten foot pole.

Seeing Marinette fretting about "entrusting her classmate's futures to such awful girls" really, REALLY annoys me. The entire fucking REASON that Lila is even class-rep is because of the authors trying to pretend that Lila transferred in BEFORE the elections for Class Rep took place, when I'm literally looking at the timeline and she explicitly came LONG AFTER.

Yada yada yada, Lila lying through her teeth again. Wow, not even ten seconds and she's having Sabrina destroy the original forms and forge new ones. UGH. "You're using too many words to explain your plan!" HAHAHA ISN'T CHLOE BEING A DUMB BLONDE STEREOTYPE HILARIOUS!? I AM ENJOYING THIS AND NOT PISSED OFF AT ALL!!! And WOW, Lila's "brilliant plan" is to just... frame Marinette for replacing everyone's forms with ones that would make them miserable. There are clearly no holes in this, certainly not the fact that Miss Bustier KNOWS now that Sabrina can and does forge signatures and handwriting, and that the whole "frame Marinette for doing something awful" routine only has a 50% success record, even with Lila's bullshit in effect. This isn't stupid, nope, not one bit. /s

And we get a reminder from Chloe that Andre is a stereotypical scumbag politician, it's been a while since the show has been willing to do that. I wonder if it has something to do with the show trying to pretend he's a good dad because of Zoe?

Also, apparently the lynchpin to Lila's plan is having Sabrina lie and say that MARINETTE made her forge the papers... wow, people will totally buy that the girl who does anything and everything Chloe says would ever take orders from someone other than Chloe, that's definitely what will happen. Much shock, much brilliance. /s

Wow, literally having Chloe gush over Lila's plan being "utterly villainous." They aren't even pretending to be subtle in the slightest. This is pathetic. And now Sabrina's blowing into her weird whistle in a panic because she "can't do this." Girl, you have been Chloe's lapdog and have had no problem with ruining lives in the past without a hint of regret, don't pretend you have a conscience NOW of all times. Also, what the FUCK is with that stupid whistle? Where did it come from, and why is it only NOW something so important to her??

"Helping Chloe doesn't hurt anyone" YOU LITERALLY TRIED TO STEAL MARINETTE'S DIARY IN SEASON ONE CUT THE BULLSHIT. "Forging documents and lying? It's different!" No. IT IS NOT. YOU HAVE LIED ON CHLOE'S BEHALF MANY TIMES IN THIS SERIES ALREADY!!!

And after a moment of pointless cruelty (and more "I didn't do anything wrong!!" whining from Sabrina) by Chloe, we are now back to the reappearance of... ugh. The "Resistance." What have these idiots accomplished again...? Oh right, they publicly harassed Adrien's father, fell hook line and sinker for Hawkmoth's idiotic "scheme" to conceal his identity again, lead a fairly pointless resistance against Hawkmoth after he gets the Ladybug Earrings... and that's about it. What a joke.

Okay, and somehow Damocles hears them and is looking for them on the basis that they are intruders. He's honestly not wrong, since I sincerely doubt they are supposed to be hiding in that weird nook in the school after class hours. Apparently Nino's "brilliant plan" is for all of them to go to the same high school... for many, MANY reasons, that feels utterly fucking stupid to me, since there's no guarantee that any of them would get schedules that would let them meet up, there's no guarantee that the school would be able to accommodate their future goals and ideals, and, oh yeah, THEY DON'T NEED TO GO TO THE SAME SCHOOL TO STILL BE A TEAM.

And it seems Damocles is a fan of their plan. Not terrible, but that feels like the kind of thing that's gonna get out of hand in the worst way VERY QUICKLY. Also, Nino thinking his plan will be able to fix Adrien's problem would be hilarious if it didn't illustrate how stupid the writers are making the cast for the sake of plot. And yup, the little problem of them having different dreams and goals that are incompatible with all going to the same school immediately crops up.

While Marinette takes a call, Mrs. Mendeleev is tattling on the "Resistance" to Mr. Damocles. For once, she's absolutely right that them lurking in the boiler room is unacceptable. Not only is it breaking several rules, it's just plain dangerous to be in a place like that without a good reason. And... Damocles is covering for them. That would be sweet if it weren't liable to get him in massive trouble. Oh, looks like Mendeleev is unsatisfied with how Damocles runs things. I mean, so am I, but I doubt she'd be any better given her track record.

"It's so unfair that we have to decide what we want to do so early on in life!" MYLENE, IF YOU THINK THAT THIS IS THE BE-ALL END-ALL OF YOUR LIFE, YOU ARE FUCKING DELUSIONAL. Changing careers and exploring different subjects and career paths is NORMAL. People who go into one thing and never divert from it are the EXCEPTION not the rule. I wanted to become a programmer, then got into IT, before I finally ended up as a Pharmacy Technician. Them acting as if "taking a bunch of different courses to figure out what we want" is this groundbreaking thing pisses me off. They come off as spoiled brats, especially when each of them had pretty clear ideas on what they wanted to do right off the bat. This is fucking stupid.

No no no. I'm not even remotely pretending to entertain them acting as if trying to "take a stand" against filing these forms THAT THEY ALREADY FILLED OUT AND HANDED OVER by "striking" is anything other then performative BS. I have had my fill of performative BS for a while now. Fuck this.

Seriously, why the fuck do they have Juleka speaking so fucking QUIETLY? This is just fucking bizarre. She's capable of speaking at a normal volume without issue, she's SPOKEN at a normal volume without issue THIS SEASON, why is she having this problem NOW OF ALL TIMES!? Ding Dong, Rose points out the fucking problem with doing a "strike" when it comes to something THEY HAVE ALREADY DONE.

And it looks like MAYBE Adrien has pushed himself to do something other then be totally enslaved to what Gabe wants of him... and we don't even get to see it. Who bets that it's Adriennette shit? ...Yup, it's Adriennette shit. He literally didn't even list anything, he just said he "wanted to be with Marinette." If that's supposed to be touching, it fails. It's just him basically wasting a form by treating it like a love letter.

And Chloe dumps the form in the emergency bathroom that she and Lila are hiding in. How did no one see them all enter at the same time, and why was no one suspicious? And I cannot repeat myself enough, them trying to act as if Sabrina just NOW has a conscience PISSES ME OFF.

And we get a scene of Caline taking Lila at face value. For fuck's sake, this better not be binding... and Damocles is taking Lila's bullshit rationalization on why Alya obviously put down "Optician" at face value, FUCK. THAT. THIS is why this guy needs to be kicked out of his position, he SUCKS AT HIS JOB. Seriously, why the fuck would ALYA WEARING GLASSES MEANS SHE WANTS TO MAKE THEM FOR PEOPLE!? And Mrs. Mendeleev just saying "her grades allow it" really proves she's no better at this job then Damocles is. Uuuggghhh... your JOB should be to call in Alya and TALK WITH HER since her homeroom teacher has literally JUST POINTED OUT THAT THIS IS UNUSUAL FOR ALYA. FUCK THIS SHIT.

"Juleka wants to repeat the year" NOPE. FUCK THAT. END OF FUCKING STORY. You do not get to CHOOSE TO REPEAT A YEAR!!!! FUCK THAT FUCK THAT FUCK THAT!!! WHY ARE THESE IDIOTS NOT QUESTIONING THIS!?!? Wow, the speech impediment that didn't exist until recently, truly a "brilliant reason" for her to want to be held back WHICH IS NOT A THING THAT HAPPENS. And another sign of Mrs. Mendeleev being just as useless as Damocles in that she doesn't oppose a child apparently sabotaging her own education.

And NOW we get the class reacting to the news!! How will the writers fuck THIS up, I wonder?

"You sure you didn't get mine by mistake?" Kim saying that would be funny if it weren't for the sheer stupidity of the teachers and Damocles apparently being dumb enough to just buy Lila's bullshit at face value AND Miss Bustier doing NOTHING to actually oppose it!!! Oh, and another Dumb Blonde joke, but this time it's Rose who's the butt of it.

And whatever drama this should result in gets sidetracked by what looks to be Juleka getting Akumatized. Let's see if that'll actually go through with it or if they'll bring back the Resistance's bullshit "tactics" again. Also, why is Gabe/Hawkmoth acting like he's got this history of akumatizing people during Teacher Rep Meetings when this is the first time these have ever even been MENTIONED?

And the magical charm proves to be immediately useless! Who didn't see that coming, show of hands!

And it's Reflekta again. UGH. Also, them trying to act as if not being (verbally) understood or listened to is a recurring problem with Juleka falls flat when she's never had this speech impediment prior to this season. Her issue was being SEEN, not HEARD, dumbass writers. Yup, they are using the dumb tactics, and putting themselves in danger in the process. Kiddies, it's WAY TOO FUCKING LATE FOR THAT.

Huh, they actually bothered to give an old Akuma an improved version of their prior power!! Now if only it wasn't the Akuma LEAST USEFUL TO GETTING THE MIRACULOUSES!!! Also, the fact that their classmates didn't immediately run when they saw that the Akuma was Reflekta, especially since this one operates as a hive mind it seems. It's also kinda stupid that they are trying to tie Reflekta's powers of image copying with the motivation of "staying with her friends" since it just plain DOES NOT FIT REFLEKTA AS AN AKUMA.

This plan is even stupider than normal. Not only was the Akuma taken out in less than a handful of minutes, they basically just got lucky that they took out the "real Reflekta." This was a waste of time.

Now back to the school, where Alya and the rest ask Lila what happened at the conference. SURELY this isn't a plot, SURELY this isn't all a trick- Oh who am I kidding, of course it is. Yup, Lila immediately passes the blame onto Marinette. And Chloe immediately pulls out the fact that Marinette's the only one with an unaltered form as "proof" that this is all her fault, and Lila says it's all because they voted her to be Class Rep. Wow, what a "brilliant plan."

Marinette immediately points out the obvious flaw in her being the one to make the fake forms. And when Lila tries to flip it on her, Marinette calls out Sabrina, who Chloe shoves in front of herself. HOW the class can't smell that this is staged, I have no clue whatsoever. AND SABRINA FINALLY GROWS A SPINE!! WHOOPDY-FUCKING-DOO!! WHO GIVES A SHIT!? IT'S TOO LITTLE TOO LATE TO GROW A FUCKING CONSCIENCE WHEN YOU'VE BEEN ACTING AS IF YOU'VE NEVER DONE ANY WRONG UP UNTIL NOW!!!

And Chloe, because of course they are still keeping her the dumb one, loudly calls Sabrina a traitor and says that "wasn't the plan." Lila tries to run damage control... by immediately throwing SABRINA under the bus and claiming that Sabrina is the liar, and was "just being used by Marinette." Seriously, CHLOE ADMITTED THAT THIS WAS THEIR PLAN!!! HOW STUPID IS THIS!? EXTREMELY STUPID!!! Also, wow, calling Marinette a "Civilian Monarch." She isn't even trying anymore.

And Sabrina, no, she is not turning everything you say against you, she's lying. Turning what you say against you is when you repeat what someone says in a way that means differently from what they intend. What she's doing is lying, blatantly, calling you a liar, and trying to gaslight you into going along with what she wants, and she's not being even remotely subtle about it. WHY ARE NONE OF THEIR CLASSMATES REACTING TO THIS!? WHY!?!?!

Yeesh, even if you ignore how stupid and blatant Lila's lies are, this is genuinely creepy how she's openly trying to gaslight and badger Sabrina into doing what she wants and agreeing with her. It's sincerely disturbing to see her being this fucking obvious.

Also, it's kinda weird how Sabrina emphasizes that her dad is a policeman.

And after Sabrina runs off, Chloe literally tells Sabrina to 'heel,' like a dog. THAT'S the Miraculous they think suits Sabrina best... how nauseating. No joke, this part of the episode is making me sick to my stomach.

Wow, a classic "I'll have my dad fire you(r dad)" threat from Chloe. Haven't heard one of those in awhile.

And after Lila begins bragging about how great of a liar she is (SHE REALLY ISN'T PEOPLE!!!), and threatens Sabrina, Sabrina springs her trap and reveals she engineered a public confession. This would be cathartic if it weren't TOTALLY STUPID HOW LONG LILA'S LIES HAVE BEEN MAINTAINED BY PEOPLE TAKING HER AT FACE VALUE OVER ALL ELSE!!!!

Yadda yadda yadda, Sabrina grew a conscience and revealed everything to Marinette, acting as if she hasn't tried to gleefully ruin lives and damage reputations at Chloe's behest before. And they seriously built an entire fake bathroom with a one-way window-mirror thing just to catch her. How obnoxious. Seriously, all they did was put up a "bathroom busted" sign and that was enough, and the school never tried to call a plumber or something!? THIS IS STUPID!!! They should've been aware this ENTIRE TIME that the actual bathroom was perfectly fine, making this entire plan of Marinette's as sound as a pile of SAND!!!

"I'll fix everything." Fix WHAT!? By all accounts you just faked the bathrooms being out of order, switched out a mirror for a back-up bathroom that never needed making and thus probably cost the school quite a pretty penny to make, and wasted several school hours by enabling Lila's idiotic plan involving those orientation forms WHICH SHOULD NOT HAVE ACTUALLY BEEN THAT BIG OF A FUCKING DEAL!!!

Caline says they owe Marinette an apology, they kinda do. They also probably deserve to be fired since they've shown nothing but raw, unfettered ineptitude THIS ENTIRE FUCKING SEASON AND EVERY EPISODE INVOLVING LILA!!! Wow, Chloe actually bothered acting on one of her threats to call her father!! TOO BAD THAT HER DAD DOESN'T HAVE THE POWER TO GET RID OF DAMOCLES!! I agree he needs to go, but Andre doesn't have the power to do that. Mayor of the year, people, Mayor of the fucking year.

I'm just tuning out the rest of this, since it's basically Damocles FINALLY bothering to act like a proper educator and Andre going back to his Season 1 days of being a slimeball politician that throws his weight around to keep his daughter's image clean. Oh, and it looks like the only reason he went along with it was because Audrey was coercing him with her present, CLEARLY they are "in love," and this isn't downplaying Andre being a self-serving spineless leech. Heck, this makes him MORE of a spineless leech since he's getting pushed around by Audrey FOR NO FUCKING REASON.

"Now you're not getting fired either!" Audrey, he's your husband, not an employee, and he has more authority than you. Fuck this bullshit.

And the entire class rallying around Damocles would be more touching if he weren't a fucking joke of a principal on every level. We also see the Magic Charms FINALLY BE FUCKING USEFUL!! Who knows, maybe this unknown until now power will actually be fucking relevant... yeah, I don't believe it either.

Yadda yadda yadda, character shilling for Damocles by acting as if he's always been a good principal and not a fucking joke with no spine. And now we get the scene of Caline joining the "Chloe is pure evil and always has been, so there's no point in trying to change her, point and scorn her as nothing but trash" club. And we get a "I thought you could change if people reached out to you!" speech which acts as if the token gestures that never went anywhere were really meaningful attempts to reform her, blech. And Caline's "punishment" for Chloe is literally just the "extra help" she said Chloe would need last episode reframed as a threat. Idiotic. And apparently Lila has an entirely separate identity as "Cerise" on top of her somehow tricking three women into believing she's her daughter and HOW MUCH FUCKING MORE DO THE WRITERS PLAN ON SHILLING HER AS THIS MASTER MANIPULATOR!? BECAUSE SHE AIN'T ONE!! SHE IS A TEENAGE GIRL WITH FUCKING DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR!! GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!!!

[anonil88]

Epidode 7 was probably my favorite episode of Under the Bridge. Felt like we finally got to the thick center of this chowder before I start to skim the fat.

The fat: I get the sympathy "look at how these two characters relate and reflect" angle but the writers have shoved so many different dates and non irl instances into the same day it feels like time isn't passing the way it was before. Certain scenes i felt like someone was yelling out "okay and then next." Those and the odd likely time constraint fictional case changes aside i did enjoy a lot about this episode.

The stock; Its hard challenging your sense of justice in our society when you're not used to it and that is possibly easier when real life people are made fictional characters or more increasingly divorced from their real counterparts. It is difficult to rewire a brain that has already been wired via religion or socialization for crime = all good all bad human. But, thank God life is not so simple there's a lot of gray. As we the viewers reach closer and closer to the finale and trial more has been changed from the real reena virk case. Writers made certain changes in the beginning that now when any of the kids on trial say "we didn't know anything about her" it asks the viewer to think back to the first 4 episodes**. Does anyone here really know who Reena is? They know she was murdered, they are finding out how, but what about this girl. She is a vehicle for their ambitions, guilt, and anger but beyond that who really has found out about Reena or hell any of these kids. Cam? Us the audience? Rebecca? Very clearly not Rebecca (character) even though she has so much in common with Reena as well as Warren. But, she can identify herself with the boy because of their mistakes and race. Becca cannot see why Cam doesn't relate to Warren* despite their similarities because she doesn't understand why Cam doesn't sympathize with her.

That quote about Reena being seen as an animal and weaker than Warren sits in my head a little. Based on another tumblr users post this may have actually been said in court not to Rebecca directly, which was a good change for tv imo. But, it made me think of Warren in his drunken angry state went to his "primal human urge" to hurt something weaker or ignore rather than help. As did every other kid who was a bystander that night but they aren't seen as animals in the same way Reena was up until people saw she was in fact dead. Even now in death she is dehumanized and animalized on the internet because of one bad school picture day. A day we all have tried and failed to get the perfect photo. Still, the most animalistic rabid like behavior is coddled because of privilege. One thing the writers have not held back on us how much they personally do not like Kelly Ellard and offer her 0 remorse that she was given as a child. I dont feel bad for character or real life Kelly but I firmly believe she was failed because of her privilege long before she killed Reena Virk.

One thing i loved about this episode is that I felt Rebecca Godfrey (the writer) all over this episode and in Riley's portrayl. Especially when the character says "I will make sure they know your heart." I think that's what she set out to do with her book and by extension allowing this show, she wanted people to know who these humans are at their very human center. Complicit and redeemable? Complicit and capable? And she felt bad about what tragically happened. I hope wherever she is, if she believed in that sort of thing, that she is proud of her story.

* I think and that moment of his verdict in court shows Cam does care about Warren, Rebecca, and extension all of these kids. This is her home, no matter how small these writers have shrunk its vastness. She sees these kids as versions of her, Gabe, and Rebecca but she is a cop and she does have some standard to uphold. Even though her career and who it represents, her dad & brother her family, is starting to show themselves to be harder to stick by. Similar to Josephine and that false sense of family with CMC disintegrating. Will Cam even go ahead to Vancouver for her job by the end of this?

** Which is quite different from the real life accounts where genuinely it seems those kids and the main group imvolved did not know Reena outside from her extreme antics, the lesser teen cruelty one, and her face.

[go-to-the-mirror]

i dont want to talk about scrutiny

WHATEVER, FINE, OKAY, WE'RE DOING SCRUTINY, OR SOMETHING, FINE, WHATEVER, WHAT EVER

i love scrutiny, i do, but in the way that i love threshold, and nothing beside remains, and seeing it through, and a guest for mr spider. meaning I really do, but I also hate it with vitriol. Not really? It's complicated. I have Some Feelings Towards it. Yep. Look this podcast makes me feel happiness and sadness and anger at the same bloody time, but it's all confused because it's overridden by being Very ADHD about it, so like, they're all rattling around in there. I hate it (affectionate), I love it (derogatory), you get it?

Anyway, y'all know how I feel about Jon already, and if you don't, it's love and only love, so uhm, yeah, let's just get on with it already, rambling and mostly rambling, attempts to set aside my undying love for the Jarchivist for like a day, etc.

@a-mag-a-day

Firstly, I'd like to draw attention to the posts I made on my instagram story about this when I was first listening to TMA, because I was Not Alright.

The first was highlighting the description of the episode: "Statement of an unknown bystander, regarding an encounter with The Archivist." "The Archivist." Not "Jonathan Sims," not "Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London," not even "Jonathan Sims, The Archivist."

Just... The Archivist.

The second was regarding the first, saying that I knew it was deserved but he should be allowed to eat a few fears. As a treat.

I didn't say anything to my partner (who you should follow by the way, they're scarandjoelenthusiast), cause I think I was still attempting to be spoiler free for vex at that point, lol. And I had no other... friends. At all. Um. Yeah.

So, onto the relisten! Oh boy.

MARTIN Ah, alright, did he... did he look like he hadn't slept in about a week?

I absolutely love that Jon's descriptors are looking like shit, and looking like Jesus. That's just amazing.

Also uh,,, why did Martin immediately go to Jon? Hm..

Everything, every bit of light or sound or, or anything that changed, that said time was passing. There was nothing. Before that I never really thought about time, you know? But now… Yeah.

that must have been terrifying

So, it, it took a long time to get over that. I mean, that’s not weird, right? I me— It was a bad time. You know, it, it stays with you. Was signed off, what, I think about six months with the injuries. Had pretty bad, uh, nightmares, claustrophobia, I mean, obviously, right? But, uh, but, but I did my physio, and, you know, talked, talked with the counsellor they gave me. Look, I did everything I was supposed to and, and yeah, I… I guess I was fine. You know, once the bruises were gone I— Well, it’s easy to blame memory, right? You know, ha-hallucination, coincidence, all the classic shite you tell yourself. Life went back to normal. I— I was fine. Until about two weeks ago.

Jesus fucking christ, Jon. She was fine, trying to get over it, Floyd was fine and that's just it, because they think they're safe, and-

She was fine, she was okay, and he took that from her, he took that from her, he made it so she couldn't be fine anymore, he made it so every god. damn. night she'd experience that again, the bastard.

There’s this creep in, in the corner. Your guy. He just… keeps staring at me, like, like properly staring. Like, it is super intense and, and real weird. Like he knows me, but I sure as hell do not know him. I— I try to ignore him, look, I just, I just read my book, and every time I look up there he is, watching me.

Girls when they realise oh yes, he's an avatar.

So… Look, I’m packing up, all done and, and I just, I just sorta turn, you know, just, just to check if he’s still there and he is standing right behind— Like, like a few inches from my face. Look, it’s messed up!

That's??? Terrifying?? I mean, look, like, my sisters jump whenever I quietly stand behind them and stare intently, and they're my sisters, they know me, they know I only joke about stabbing them with a knife, Jon, that's freaky, stop being freaky, you have trauma at home. Go eat a stale trauma for gods sake.

Like, okay Mr. "I don't think it's me doing it." Who sat at a bloody coffee shop for an hour.

I. Understand. That there is a certain. Need. To cause and feed on fear. As an Avatar/Monster/Whatever. And I mean like it's pretty hard. To admit you're in the wrong for something. Even if you think you're in the wrong for other things. But like. None of this matters to Jess, to Floyd, to the three other people whose lives he ruined. He can try be better, he can never do it again, but he can't go back and fix it.

And I start to ask him, you know, what the hell, man, you know? Like— But he just starts talking. Slowly. But real intense. He says, he works here, at the, the Magnus Institute, and I say, what even is that and he says, he wants my story. He says he needs to hear what happened to me. And I— I want to tell him to jj-just go away. I want to, to, to kick him and run. But I— (long sigh) I sit down. And I start to tell him everything. About the job, about the collapse, a-about the hand. More than I told you, even, and, and as I do— it’s like I’m there again. Like I can feel it grab my ankle, th-th-that cold, dead hand and I just… I just can’t stop talking. I cannot shut up.

[ID: A blurry photo of CC!GoodTimesWithScar with his head in his hands. /End ID]

And then it was over. And he looked— He looked at me like he’d just eaten, like a perfectly cooked steak. You know what he said? He said, “Thank you.” “Thank you.” Just like that. Like, like reliving the worst parts of my whole life were just a bit of a… a favour that I’d done him. And then he left and I— I just sat there and cried for a while.

i don't know what to say im just sitting here with my head in my hands.

And he’s there the whole time, just… watching me. Watching me scream and thrash and… He’s all eyes. He’s all eyes.

I kinda want to punch him right about now, because how dare he do that to her, how dare he ruin her life just because he wanted to. Whatever, avatar, feed your god or it'll feed on you, I don't care, that's his business, not hers. She wasn't involved, she didn't have to be involved, she was fine and he took that from her, the bastard!

How dare he sit there talking about choice, how dare he feel all guilty for ruining her life, how dare he! He doesn't deserve to feel bad about it. Christ, Jon, what the fuck.

But I feel like I’m seeing him when I’m awake as well. I’ve been… I’ve been having a lot of problems since he talked to me. Since I talked to him. Since I told my... story. The, the claustrophobia, it’s back, worse than it ever was and I can’t do my job. I have these, these screaming panic attacks every time I try and— What am I supposed to do? Like, feels like, like every time I’m even slightly underground I— Can’t even go into a shop basement more without feeling that… (sniffs) hand. Every time I do, every time I get that panic just rising up my throat, I see him. He’s there. Not when I look properly, but just at the edge. The corner of my eye. Then he’s gone.

(MAG 142 - Scrutiny)

Since then, she said she’d been seeing that woman everywhere she went.

(MAG 6 - Worm Sex Episode Squirm)

✨ becoming what you hated ✨

No, but I have a lot of feelings on becoming a fear entity Avatar and the cycle of violence. Of how Avatars often only became Avatars because of previous trauma, because they had no other options. Of how they often don't see themselves as victims, for example Annabelle Cane describing herself as manipulative, even as she was a child trying to cope in an abusive household. And I think that Jon being like Jane Prentiss, following his victims like her, starting to understand her... that ties into those themes. I love this podcast <3.

MARTIN No, no, it’s— Thank you. I just— [Agitated clatter] For god’s sake, can he not just stay safe for like, like ten minutes?! DAISY I don’t think that’s an option for him anymore. MARTIN Yeah, I mean, sure. But he just… he doesn’t think! He always just immediately charges straight off into danger with whatever, whatever half-arsed plan occurs to him at the time! I don’t get it! DAISY What’s to get? MARTIN What? DAISY I, I mean, it’s pretty standard stuff. MARTIN What? DAISY Used to see it all the time back in the force, especially with the sectioned. Not like there’s ‘normal’ trauma, you know, but it’s pretty common. The most important thing becomes control, engaging on your own terms. Even when it’s stupid or dangerous. Anything to not feel helpless. MARTIN Oh god… DAISY And of course for Jon’s there’s survivor’s guilt in there too. He thinks he’s not human. Makes him very… self-destructive.

PODDED CAST!!

Thank you, Jonny.

Like hgnhhrnhhnr <3 yep. mhhnm there's another post that talks about the meaning of putting that in with scrutiny, I'll tag a mag a day in that.

Like! Aa! Thank you. Don't really have much to add, I mean I said a bunch in other episodes rambles, specifically the MAG 131, 132, and 136 ones.

I mean you know, the whole spider thing, a bit of his self-blame about... the end of season 4... could come from... if he's not to blame, then he didn't have any control, then all of this was out of his control. If he couldn't stop it, if Jimmy Magma's plan was that good then... well, then he was helpless, and there's nothing worse than being helpless.

in conclusion, disregard the above Jon did nothing wrong- no, he's... he doesn't get to be forgiven by Jess, by Floyd, by the others, not unless they choose to forgive him. But he can work on doing better, you know? He's allowed to not wallow in guilt the whole time, he's not irredeemable, he just did bad things -- bad things he can't fix -- but he can work on never doing those bad things again, on mitigating the damage as much as he can. He's not a bad person, just a person who did bad things.

I dunno, I'm more interested in the metaphysics side of philosophy. You know there's a branch of philosophy called metametaphysics? I think it's so funny.