#fuck if i know where the other one is but it Exists

[muwapsturniolo]

𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒕 ᥫ᭡. c sturniolo

“I just-she left…”

✗ Angst, mentions of sex but no actual smut, cliffhanger

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

Love was a tricky thing - Bittersweet.

It could make you feel so whole and warm, like your life has meaning. On the other hand, it could break you down completely, as if you weren't worth anything.

This was something that scared Chris. He told everyone he had commitment issues, but they took it as he couldn't settle for one girl specifically, or he was scared of women. In reality, it was the idea of not knowing how your love with someone could end.

So when he dove head first into a relationship only for it to crumble right in his hands, he was distraught. It was so sudden, he thought everything was fine. He was happy, she was happy.

At least he thought she was.

"You're love is just too much Chris...I can't do this."

Her words hurt, they broke him.

He didn't understand how him showing how much he loved her was too much. Isn't that what girls want, for their partners to be open and loving?

After that night it was like she never existed, and it wasn't Chris's doing. The girl had deleted her socials, moved away from LA, and cut everyone off. He could only feel what was left of her, but he wasn't able to feel her.

He wished he knew where she went, what she was doing. He wished he knew how the hell she managed to make him fall in love with her, only to break him.

Did she ever love him?

He refused to be the type to marinate in his emotions, so he threw himself into his work. He forced Nick and Matt to film videos back to back, the brothers quickly becoming exhausted. He decided it was finally time to get his license and a car, hoping that if he betters himself she would come back to him.

But she didn't.

Everyone could see the change in him. He started going out more without his brothers, partying with Sam and Gnar. He'd come home with a different girl on his arm every night, and a bunch of money being spent from the joint account he shares.

That phase only lasted a month or so before Nick finally put his foot down, yelling at Chris and telling him to "Get the fuck over the breakup, she's not coming back."

"I know Nick I just....She left. She fucking left and said my love was too much! What does that mean? I-I did my best!"

He broke down, crying harder than he ever had in his brothers' arms.

"Why did she have to leave? Why won't she just come back?"

It seemed like after that, his whole personality and life did a 180. He grew quiet, no longer being the loud one. He was more snappy, staying in his room and locking himself away from the world.

When questioned about it, he told Matt and Nick that everything reminds him of her. The couch where they watched movies all night, the coffee shop she would force him to go to, and the overall energy of LA.

After a long talk, the three of them decided to leave LA. It seemed like a drastic change, but none of them were happy.

Matt never wanted to come to LA, Chris couldn't handle the memories, and Nick just wanted his brothers to be happy. So after a month of dealing with their management and trying to find a place back home, they finally were back in Boston.

Matt was happier, Nick was happier, and Chris was slowly doing better. He was eating more, laughing again, and even hanging out with friends. He still had trouble sleeping at night, his dreams filled with the memories he shared with her.

He'd wake up wishing that he spent more time savoring those moments instead of taking them for granted. He knew nothing lasted forever and yet he was naive enough to believe they would.

There was a specific night when he couldn't sleep, his mind silent as he stared at the wall. It irritated him, he was tired but something was keeping him awake. He dragged himself out of bed and went to the kitchen to find tea, hoping it would put him in a tranquil state, but there was no tea to be found.

With a sigh he slipped on his shoes and grabbed the car keys, sending a quick text to Nick and Matt, letting them know that if they woke up and he was still gone, he was just grabbing something from the store.

He planned on going to Walgreens, but on the way there, he saw a 24-hour coffee shop. It was small, the lighting giving up a warm glow that was already lulling him to sleep.

He parked the car and walked inside, the smell of the coffee grounds and lavender infiltrating his nose.

It reminded him of the coffee shop they would go to.

He stepped up to the register, looking at the menu for a second before ordering a large chamomile and lavender tea. It only took a second for the barista to hand him his drink, wishing him a 'good night' and telling him to 'be safe'.

With a brief smile he turns around, immediately locking eyes with her.

He could feel his heart fall to the pits of his stomach, his tea long forgotten and dropped to the ground.

"Hey Chris...."

[vigilskeep]

Do we know enough about how Crow succession and talonship works to believe it would be possible for Viago to take the seat of first talon either through some sort of non-violent coup in the absence of an heir to house Dellamorte or through marrying his kid (rook) off to Lucanis? Asking because I really don't know and would love to write something in that direction...and you seem a crow enthusiast...also love your blog

THEORETICALLY. yes.

we haven’t seen the talons shift directly, but they do shift, with regularity. house arainai was first talon in living memory and then fell slowly downwards to their current point where they’re struggling in and out of eight talon like a drowning man who keeps finding his way to air for just enough breath

the eight talons system, if you’ll allow me the tangent, is a really fascinating choice of fantasy hierarchy because it is such a clear hierarchy. among a bunch of ambitious killers whose prime goal is notoriety. you can only hold each position here if everyone below you is too afraid to do anything about it. what an anxiety trip it must be to decide whether to push someone down just one rung or to try to destroy them entirely; do you want to leave your rival with more opportunity or more motivation? but crow power is also all about theatre, all about perception—you are first or fifth or seventh talon primarily because everyone agrees that you are—so making a failed gambit for a higher talon has got to be incredibly damaging. which is a risky setup. it discourages attempts, but when someone does make an attempt, they will not be fucking around

anyway ignore all that we’re talking about soft takeovers today. okay so house dellamorte has a dying core family, theoretically. we’re making the assumption that no surviving young children from any branch of the family are mentioned because none exist. we have two heirs, neither very acceptable (my apologies to caterina’s delusions), both men in their 30s with (again, assumed) no children, and neither making much progress in that regard. (arguably dependent on player choice when it comes to lucanis, but since he can fall in love with and express his undying devotion to any kind of rook, we can at least say he’s not making that much effort.) within a generation the core family may die out. but that is a LONG TIME to wait. you still have to deal with the current ones, they’re pretty robust

lucanis is the current first talon as of the end of veilguard. can he be convinced to give this up and hand first talon over to someone better suited? i do believe it. mostly because i need to believe, for my mental health, that we can get him out of there. but he also now has a fairly bulky support system full of people who love him and will notice how bad this is going to be and convince him he deserves things like a life he doesn’t hate

as always your main problem is caterina. caterina is not going to allow a takeover, soft or otherwise, while she is still alive. caterina didn’t give up first talon when they murdered her children. there’s probably an emotional plot in here where she can be made to accept what she’s done to her family, far too late, but with time left to save just one by letting him go. on the other hand, i’ve also been experimenting with plots in my mind where she tries to quietly get rid of viago or romanced rook for having too much influence, with the added benefit on hopefully being able to steel & refocus lucanis on defending the house against whoever she frames. or plots where she blames lucanis trying to leave and not being the boy she remembers on his, you know, demonic possession, and attempts to forcibly remove or destroy spite. so. there’s potential ups and downs, here.

i don’t know how helpful rook de riva/lucanis is. most of your problem here is that everything that sets this ending up by giving the de rivas more power, and by giving any rook more power over lucanis, is something that in my mind would crank caterina’s wariness all the way up. house de riva surely has to move up from fifth already after the events of the game and look more like a contender, and i don’t think even caterina’s delusions about lucanis’ suitability for first talon could make her blind to the effect rook can obviously have. i definitely think she would delay on a marriage and have the power to do that

i think it’s worth saying that rook de riva at any point bringing up to lucanis the idea of handing things over to viago would be a hell of a conversation. i know lucanis never remotely suspects rook of any agenda and trusts them completely, and i know i agree with rook here, but you’ve GOT to see how “i love you and having power is bad for you and what you should do is hand it all over to my talon” sounds. i truly could not blame him for a bit of doubt here especially if caterina was around to suggest it

sorry this is a completely messy and disconnected response. i don’t even know if i had a point. you might have to wait for caterina to actually die? is that my point? i can see rook de riva/lucanis being helpful to ease a transition of power to house de riva then. i also think it’s worth pointing out that teia might be the better contender for all this out of the two lovebirds. what quietly makes teia probably the most dangerous talon in the crows, if she ever chose to be, is that everyone likes her. i’m not joking or trying to handwave crow politics, it’s a form of soft power and the result of her cultivated skill that nobody ever suspects teia of anything. even caterina treats her gently, and literally a talon who tried to murder all the others in tevinter nights was delaying murdering her because she was his favourite. if anyone can handle a gentler transition like what we’re talking about, maybe it’s more likely to be teia

[clarkeybabey]

❝ everybody wants a taste ❞

# summary; sharing is not always caring

# playlist; jealous, nick jonas, gold rush, taylor swift, the boy is mine - remix, ariana grande, brandy, & monica!

# word count; 1.2k

# note; I did not intend for this to be so long originally, whoops. kinda hate this

"And you're positive you don't wanna come along, darlin'," George asks for what seems to be the hundredth time this evening as he pulls his coat on, he's been begging for you to rethink your decision for the last twenty-five minutes, and you aren't budging this time.

Shaking your head, "I can't leave my baby two nights in a row, honey, that's outrageous," you frown, gesturing down to your dog who has cuddled herself up against the blanket that's still warm from the dryer. He groans, tossing his head back in an attempt to gain extra sympathy points, "Plus, all this laundry and love island to catch up on."

He comes trudging back towards you, flopping down on the bed dramatically, "Don't wanna go without you," he pouts and you kiss his jutted-out lower lip, when you pull back he's fighting a smile and losing miserably, "I'll be right here waiting for you to get back, I'll even try an' stay up for you, okay?"

Defeated he sighs, ""Kay, I love you," he kisses you this time, a real one, long and slow. His hand comes up to find the pulse point on your neck as his tongue slides against yours.

You catch on quickly, grabbing his shoulders and giving a light shove, "I love you and you know how much I enjoy your kisses, but go have fun with your friends, my lips'll be here when you get back home."

Standing up from where he had thrown himself just moments ago, mumbling, "Fine, fine, I'll fuck off," he throws a wink and a kiss at you as he walks from your shared room, you hear his keys jangle as he grabs them from the hook, followed by a third goodbye, and the door being pulled shut behind him.

You stay exactly how he left you for a while longer, at least until the washer beeps when you get up to swap the laundry around, you find Poppy sat by the door staring at you with her tail wagging a hundred miles per hour.

The idea of a walk this late without George has you wishing you had let him stay, "Sad world we live in, Pop, wishing I had a man to keep me safe from the bloody dark," you let out a breathy giggle to yourself at your words as you shove one of his hoodies over your head and slide your slippers on.

The door slams heavily behind you as you trudge down the stairs, the cool air nipping at your once-warm cheeks wind rash was the least of your worries as you make your way down the street lamp-lit sidewalk, every sense heightening. When Poppy stops to sniff one you fish your phone out of your pocket, tapping through your friend's Instagram stories.

When you get to Chris' you notice George in the background of a video of him and Arthur. Not just George though, him and a girl, he's leaned against the bar on his elbow, smiling at something shes said. It's friendly, and probably a fan, but why has she been touching his arm for what feels like ages? The video felt like it was nearly three hours long.

Screenshotting, you zoom in on the two, not even noticing the scowl that's situated on your face. You feel a pit in your stomach and it burns a hole straight through you, you're not usually the jealous type, but you're never left home either. Fans know you exist and they've slowed down the whole throwing themselves at him thing quite a bit, George never establishes boundaries, assuming they know where the line is.

Deciding you've seen enough of that, you tap through to the next slide, this time it's the four of them standing together, arms over each other's shoulders: Arthur, Chris, George, then the girl you swear you've never seen in your life. Both posts have been up for just under ten minutes.

That was enough social media for the evening, you internally establish on your walk home, turning your phone off just in time for it to buzz from what you assume is a text that you don't even bother glancing at.

Once you've made it back inside, you no longer feel like doing any more laundry, instead you kick off your shoes, hang your jacket up by the door, snuggle up in the warm duvet, and press play on your show. Before you know it you have watched two hours' worth of Love Island and fallen asleep, you don't even notice when the boys come fumbling back into the flat.

That is until George's cold hands meet your cheek, you push him away mumbling about him fucking off, and turn away from him. He snorts and apologizes with his hands up in surrender he knows you can't see, "Better change your clothes and brush your teeth, no outside clothes on my clean sheets," and he does just that before returning from the ensuite, scooting into bed behind you, pulling you into him.

You do your best not to let him cuddle up to you, letting your jealousy overpower how much you'd missed his presence alone, "Missed you lots, sweetheart, Chippo was asking 'bout you." You hum, not bothering with a verbal reply and he quickly picks up on how abnormally stiff you are against him.

"Something wrong," ignorance is bliss and sometimes your boyfriend is exactly that, but you can't blame him for being so confused this time. In his mind, he wasn't even home to piss you off so he's stuck raking through his mind in search of one thing, anything relatively bad he's done through your whole relationship

You shrug, finally speaking up, "No, jus' saw Chris' story, jealousy's a disease and mine chronic," he can hear the pout in your voice, doing his best to stifle a giggle, and failing as your feel rattle through his chest, "Nothing to be jealous of, darlin', she only knew me from your tiktok," he snorts as his fingers draw shapes on your back beneath your shirt.

And now you feel silly for ever thinking something strange was happening, this was exactly why you hardly ever got jealous, it was always something like that or "She just wanted me to get a picture of her with Arthur."

There was never a time where he made you feel as if you shouldn't be secure in your relationship, but when you're left alone your mind does such stupid things, "Dont feel silly, any time anyone comes up to you, I feel the same way, just bite my tongue, 'cause I don't want you to think I don't trust you."

"And before you say it, I know you trust me, if you didn't we wouldn't have me it this far," he presses a kiss to your forehead, your cheek, your nose, and finally your lips. He smiles against your mouth, and when he speaks again his toothpaste-y breath fans over your face, "Now g'night, beautiful, I love you more than you know."

All of a sudden you're a puddle in his arms, "Goodnight, I love you... so much," this time he can hear the smile in your voice at the sound of it he can't fight one of his own.

[xoxochb]

— glue song ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

warnings: swearing, kinda rushed ending pairing: luke castellan x daughter of hades a/n: first chapter… drop your opinions!

series m. list

the multiverse theory is the ideology that there are separate universes beyond this. many scientists have researched studies to retrieve a clear answer, yet nothing has been found. many people additionally like to make a belief that them and their most beloved would be different in this alternate universes. many think they might hate each other, love each other, or simply not know of each others existence.

you— the only daughter of hades at camp half-blood believe strongly in the fact that you and your best friend, head counselor of hermes cabin, would be best friends regardless of the opposite universe. luke castellan doesn’t think much into your science-y stuff, but if he ever finds you rambling he can’t help but listen because you’re you! disregarding his opinion on science theories if you love them that means he loves them, it’s a mutual thing, truly.

anyways, on days such as these, the slow ones where there aren’t much exciting events or camp duties, you find yourself cooped up in the coldness of cabin thirteen, a silent cabin all to yourself. this was only until your brother decided to move back in from cabin seven— then you would have to share it, unfortunately. you keep a book open in your lap, reading over the lines of endless words, entrancing yourself into the fictional world that is your book.

it was silent, and it was perfect and the fireplace crackling only added onto your cozy aura. you can’t help but let out a tiny squeal at this, then returning back to your seriousness of reading. but you were naive to think that you would get alone time for at least something as simple as an hour, soon enough the door to your cabin opens and you frown, refraining from looking up from your book and ignoring the person walking towards your bed. but by the prominent mop of dark curls you know who it is.

“not even gonna spare me a glance? you wound me, nerd, truly.”

“go away, luke, this is my silent reading time.”

he doesn’t listen. instead, luke ushers you to slide over as he takes a seat beside you on your bed.

“what’s the book of choice for today?”

“the shining.”

luke nods slowly. “I like the movie better.”

you remain silent and try to get yourself back into the book world as luke returns to silence. you’re disrupted again when his finger twirls around a strand of your hair delicately. you sigh and attempt to ignore it. until he tugs at it

“what the fuck are you doing! stop it!” you take your hair from his hold as he laughs at your dismay. “I’m not laughing, I don’t find you funny.”

“really? because I think I’m hilarious.”

your mouth remains shut.

“c’mon, nerd, talk to me. I’m dying here.”

“great. I’ll see you at the gates.”

luke opens his mouth to speak but ultimately decides not to say anything. you’d known luke since your first arrival at camp back when you were ten, you’d came straight from the underworld where you lived with your father. as a demigod, typically you’d stay with your mortal parent, however, your mother had apparent ‘complications’ said by your father and you were forced to live in his palace for the first years of your life until he deemed it unhealthy for you to be cooped up down there for so long. when you’d arrived at camp, luke had been one of the only campers that had spoken to you— most to all of the others wouldn’t dare look in your direction due to your godly heritage.

but luke didn’t care about that. he welcomed you happily and allowed you to befriend him, since this, you had been inseparable. when you were fifteen he discovered your passion for all things astronomy while catching you reading a planets book by the lake one afternoon. he had sat beside you and listened as you rambled until the moon rose and the sun set, nonsense he declared it, just a bunch of your nerdy stars and planets bullshit he’d never cared for before. but since meeting you he’d grown to become fond of them— they were always a quiet reminder of you. and welcome the nickname. ‘nerd’ he calls you. at first you hated it, after a year or two you got used to it and stopped complaining.

“I’ll get to see you?”

“that’s not—” you search for the right words. “stop.“

“you’ve gotta make a more convincing argument, nerd.”

“well I want you to stop, isn’t that enough?”

“alright, my mouth is zipped.” luke makes a zipper motion over his mouth. you turn back to your book and try to re-read the lines again. luke places his head atop yours, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. he frowns. “you smell different. like vanilla. you usually smell like berries.”

“you got an emotional attachment to the berry conditioner?”

he shrugs. “I did.”

“I’ll make sure to buy that one next time then since your feelings are so hurt.”

“really? you’re great, nerd, thanks.”

you shake your head slowly. the cabin returns back to silence, a comfortable silence. yet you secretly wish he would say something again, even if it’s utterly stupid. and unbeknownst to you, luke wishes only the same of you.

[angel---eater]

i truly have no tolerance for this fandom shittin on random fans personal trans headcanons. someone saw themselves and their experience in this character, isnt that beautiful? why dont you mind your business and focus on your own fan stuff? wouldnt that make you happier? someones headcanon doesnt negate yours. what the fuck is wrong with yall. its playing make believe x2. its just a headcanon. real life trans folks are in active danger right now and some of yall are wasting all your energy abusing others over which pronoun set figments of someone elses imagination 'should' be using

[thatstoomanysausages]

My favourite activity to indulge in recently in non-stop binging The Crane Wives' songs, especially the new album, and tallying how many times I can somehow link the lyrics to Desert Duo.

At this point it might be a talent of delusion, and I am winning.

Here is a list of lyrics in the newest album that I am particularly delusional about (it's long. It's 2am)

(btw it's every single new song. I am tired as fuck)

Scars:

"All the love, all the kindness, all your best-laid plans/Couldn't stop me from becoming the way that I am" (3rd Life reference referring to Scar inevitable turning red despite all of Grian's plans to keep him alive and safe)

"A fatal fault at the start/Tell me it's inevitable that I'd end up with scars" (3rd Life, when Scar is quickly killed in the beginning by Grian)

"Nothing could have been done/Is that right?" (3rd Life. Conversation between Grian and Scar after the creeper prank)

"Nothing could have been done" (3rd Life. After Scars falls to red)

"Nothing could have been done/Is that right?" (3rd Life. After Grian kills Scar with his own bare hands)

"End up with scars from falling/Down, down" (3rd Life, Grian's final death via suicide)

"We were always meant to fall apart" (Not even one specific series. Every single one of them actually.)

Bitter Medicine:

"Are you ashamed of me, or did you buy what I'm selling?" (3rd Life reference about Scar's scamming nature and Grian's disappointment that hides the fact that he's charmed by Scar. Every. Single. Time.)

"Made my bed but I'll sleep anywhere, anywhere" (Wild Life reference. I think we all know. Pillows smelling like waffles? Yeah.)

Higher Ground:

"I gave up the truth and now I can't take it back" (3rd Life. Grian telling Scar that he was the one that brought the creeper over. Or. Double Life Grian if he ever told Scar about his Secret Soulmate. OR. Wild Life, Grian telling Scar literally anything about the wildcard)

"I didn't wanna hurt anyone" (Oh.)

"The corvids are calling/Warning the forest a predator is approaching/Am I in danger, or am I the threat" (Grian is often characterised as a corvid if not a parrot. Basically any scenario in Wild Life where Grian is warning Scar about the wildcards despite the fact that he is at fault of making them happen)

Predator:

"What were you thinking?/Shouldn't you know better?/You opened a door for an apex predator" (Any scenario in which Scar welcomes Grian into his home and doesn't think twice about the danger the other could be harbouring. His trust for Grian is unimaginable)

"I keep forgetting the lessons I've learned/So I keep getting hurt" (Before Scar won, he never remembered what had happened with Grian, so he went back to him for safety multiple times, teamed with him, didn't mind his company, not knowing the dangers that Grian represents just by existing)

"Your heart is a nasty place/I'm afraid to say no to you" (...Yeah)

"Keep your lies and your denial/I am fighting for survival/My heart is a changing shape/What if I said no to you?" (DOUBLE LIFE DESERT DUO TAKE ME HOME. The 'changing shape' line implying that their soulmates could change their soulbound partners if they really wanted to, and could adapt to being with another if they desired it)

"You took advantage of another anxious people-pleaser" (I can't keep doing this. Honestly, depending on your point of view, this could go either way for them in varying seasons, they're doomed in every universe)

"I keep forgetting that you wont learn/So I keep getting hurt" (And now it switches to Grian on this paralleling line. He forgets about Scar's undying loyalty and falls into the trap of his safety every time, only to come out hurting him or not protecting him like he swore to in 3rd Life. This line goes so hard)

Say It:

"Say it/If it's over, say it/So I can move forward/Please don't leave me in the dark/Praying for a wayward spark" (This whole chorus screams them. They won't communicate. They never officially separate from one another, always somehow intertwined, but neither will finalise their allyship. I need therapy)

"I'm haunted by your tenderness" (3rd Life Grian traumatised by the half-hearted hits Scar was giving because he was letting Grian win, he never wanted to fight, he felt Grian deserved to win because he had done so so much for him. He was completely smitten)

"And if we meet as strangers again/Would you refuse to meet my eyes?" (Grian internally questioning Scar after he killed him in the 3rd Life finale, harbouring more guilt than he can comprehend, literally)

"You know I'm loyal to a fault" (Scar and Grian interchangeably in 3rd Life...)

"I will sit here waiting/Waiting for the axe to fall" (Scar submitting his life to Grian after they are left the last two alive. And also, if you're insane for Treebark, there is a glaringly obvious implication of Martyn feeling incredible guilt after axing Ren down to red, even if he asked him to.)

Mad Dog:

"Keep looking for the end of the tunnel/Never seems to get any closer" (The two waiting as winners for the games to end and alongside it, their suffering as well. They will never be free from circling around each other, over and over and over again)

"We both know the ship is gonna sink/But I keep reaching for the shore/Never seems to get any closer" (They both keep reaching towards each other, knowing that they will never truly be able to be together, especially after the first time where they did, and it ended horribly for them)

Arcturus Beaming:

"My sanctuary to worship the pain" (References the panda sanctuary that Scar built to help the soulmates heal their bonds, only to never complete its purpose with the two that needed it the most, ironically including the one that built it)

"And I am tired of forming a cliff face/Inside of my chest now" (Grian remembering jumping off of Monopoly Mountain and the weight that it now burdens his heart with. This line is diabolical with the right context)

"I'm grieving all that I gave" (Both of them grieving the sacrifices they made for one another, their sacrifices only making their relationship more strained overtime)

"A mirror image of us here, but they're pointing up at our sun and/Asking themselves/What exists beyond, beyond, beyond, beyond?" (Other versions of themselves in different life series looking at their 3rd Life selves and wondering what it was like to be so tightly allied)

"But there's still time, it's not too late/Nothing will change until I change" (Grian's attempt at teaming with Scar in Limited Life, savouring the time he had with him before killing him. He will never change their bond, he is always destined to kill him one way or another)

Time Will Change You:

"Planting hearts in a grave/Pray they grow after it rains" (Grian burying all his allies, hoping that as he digs their graves, he can heal their broken bonds, the cracks only caused by himself. This can unfortunately apply to a lot of Grian's allies, but Grian and Scar's relationship tries to heal itself each season)

"Someday/Time will change you/You'll leave behind what doesn't move" (Someday Scar will remember and he'll leave Grian behind once he realises that Grian was never able to move on, and that his heart is still stuck neck deep in the sand where both their bodies laid at the end of 3rd Life)

"Give me a chance to get this right/I'm learning how to let go" (They're learning, but they'll always fail, no matter how many chances)

Black Hole Fantasy:

"There's a black hole in the living room floor/I keep trying to ignore, but it's growing" (Their need to team and interact is overwhelming, and the longer they ignore one another, the larger their need will get)

"If love is just a chemical reaction/Is there a pill to take? Something to quell this ache? Is this the real thing or a distraction/Is it worth the risk?/My life would detonate" (Mmmmmm I'm losing it here)

"I'm on my way to your house, I can't wait anymore" (Yeah.)

"My knuckles hesitate an inch away from the door/What happens when it opens?" (They've spent so much time apart and away from one another that they feel fear that the moment they reconnect, it won't be the same as it was in the desert)

"And on the other side is another life/A version of me with a spark in her eyes that I don't have" (Looking back to 3rd Life when everything was simpler and happier)

"You pull me in your arms and I feel your heart pounding/I take a step back to catch my breath/And we look at each other and double over/And laugh, and laugh, and laugh" (Yeah. Just yeah. This whole verse makes me sob)

Red Clay:

(Already I want to make a link to 'red' and Scar's existence in 3rd Life being very red)

"Blistering sun, my sweat soaking my clothing" (THE DESERT???)

"We don't have to do this the hard way" (We don't have to battle to the death bare handed. We don't have to.)

River Rushing:

"I know I can't grow with a hand around my throat/Hold yourself steady/Whenever you're ready" (Reference to their fight to the death in 3rd Life)

This entire song is just a narration of their fight honestly and it makes me violent.

[jamethinks]

For me personally I can only enjoy a love story if there is a solid friendship underneath. If I can't see these two characters existing purely as friends then I am not going to get invested in the relationship. I've never been interested in love as much as I am interested in companionship.

This is one of the reasons why I love Twiyor so much. I love seeing them hang out and talk and be vulnerable with each other. I love watching them fall in love with each other and get closer. Opening up and just growing you know.

Which is why I can not engage with 99% of fandom content because it's all based on the idea that they are in love with each other and just don't know it yet. So the progress isn't them falling in love it's them understanding that they are in love which I fucking hate. I thought this was a slow burn thing. I can't read any of the twiyor fics bc its like they're already in love and have the relationship of two people that are in love and I just don't think anyone did anything to earn that.

If you don't drag your ass back and give me all the sweet interactions and intimate moments and map out the way the characters feeling go from platonic to romantic istg I am gonna get a gun-

When I say I love slow burn I mean I love slow burn. GIVE ME THE SLOW. Fuck that love at first sight shit. I want that first kiss to be blindsiding but also just so fucking right.

And for that reason the very random damianya fic where the author was a bit too fixated on Anya's period will remain one of my favourite sxf fics. That shit was so slow burn they still haven't gotten together yet. That's what I want.

[anonymous-dentist]

Ocean's Haunted

Read on AO3

-

First off, the ocean's haunted.

That's very important.

Once upon a time when Cesar was still on land, his mother told him all about the spirits that lived on the water. There are the ghosts, of course, and their ships that sail under the full moon. Sea monsters that live in the deepest parts of the ocean and drag sailors to their dooms. Sirens that take on the appearance of one's deepest desires.

What Cesar's mother failed to mention were the goddamn sea zombies.

Sea zombies like the ones currently trying to eat Cesar's face: lean and filled with holes like a sponge, leaking water from every orifice, hair the color and appearance of decayed seaweed. And, of course, smelling of dead fish.

Being alone on his back in a rowboat in the middle of the ocean miles away from land and armed with only a pistol (one bullet left) and a bottle of rum (unopened), Cesar briefly thinks that this is how he's going to die: alone.

The sea zombie gurgles and spits up a mouthful of brackish brown water onto Cesar's shoes. Its teeth graze the back of his calf, tearing his pants' leg to shreds.

Cesar kicks the fucker and skitters back in his boat until his back is against the bow. His hand scrambles for his pistol, finds it.

He raises it with both hands. He doesn't have the time to aim, but at at least his hands don't shake as he fires his last and final bullet into the sea zombie's icky oozing skull.

The sea zombie collapses into a puddle of sea foam with a scream. Its teeth, somehow, are left behind. As are its remaining clothes, including a large, audaciously-colored tricorn hat.

Cesar stares at the foam.

"What the fuck?" he asks it.

The foam, predictably, doesn't answer.

Slowly, Cesar sits up. He puts his gun down in his lap and adjusts the remains of his pants. He looks longingly at the bottle of rum. He internally curses his mother for not knowing about goddamn sea zombies. He externally curses his "father" for his very existence, just because he can.

The sun starts to set over the horizon, and Cesar settles back at the boat's oars. He presses a hand gently to his stomach, and he lets out a sigh of relief when he doesn't start bleeding again.

With a sigh, he cracks his neck, and he picks up the oars in each hand, and he starts rowing again.

-

Pirates.

Ever since he was a child, Cesar has hated pirates. Not because of their whole rob-and-kill-and-steal thing, but because he's only met one pirate in his life, and his life has been ruined ever since.

It's a personal thing. Some people hate pão de queijo. Others hate the winter months. Cesar hates his no-good father, and he hates pirates.

But when a ship that looks about as textbook a pirate ship can be pulls up next to Cesar's rowboat, Cesar feels a rush of relief.

A head pops over the side of the ship, feet above Cesar's head.

"Hello!" the head calls- black hair, and a smile obvious even in the night.

Cesar raises a hand in greeting. "Hey."

"Do you need some help?"

Cesar moves to answer with a, "Nah, I'm good," but, suddenly, the head is yanked out of sight by a pale hand.

"What are you thinking?" a new voice- female?- hisses. "We don't know this guy?"

"Aw, look at him, though! He'll die without our help!" the head argues.

Cesar puts his oars down for the moment.

And then he picks up his still-unopened bottle of rum and holds it in the air like it's a trophy.

"I have rum!" he calls.

Immediately, a woman's head and shoulders appear where the last head was. She looks almost as much a corpse as the sea zombie Cesar just killed, but beggars can't be choosers.

"Why didn't you say so?" she asks, warmth dripping off her voice like slime mold. Her head turns to the side. "Joui, get the ladder."

And that's when a third voice appears and sighs, "Come on, are you just going to let any old wretch onto the ship because they have rum? They could be a siren."

"I'm not a siren," Cesar helpfully says.

A new head, the third voice's, presumably, appears next to the woman's. This man, Cesar notices, is balding.

R-I-P.

"Prove it," the balding man says.

The first head appears on the woman's other side, pouting.

"Would a siren do this?" Cesar asks. He raises his empty pistol to his temple and puts his finger on the trigger.

Alarmed, the first head reaches out as if that'll do anything.

The other two people are not amused.

Sighing, Cesar lowers his gun and flatly says, "And I can play the accordion."

The balding man grins and claps his hands together. "Joui, get the ladder!"

Head number one salutes and ducks out of sight once more. (That'll be 'Joui' then...)

The woman looks at the balding man with a frown. "So me wanting rum is suicidal, but you wanting sea shanties isn't?"

The man shrugs. "What can I say, my dear? We're pirates. We need a sea shantier."

Cesar isn't sure if that's an actual word or job description, but he doesn't quite feel like arguing with the pirates currently saving his life.

One rope ladder climb later, Cesar finds himself tied to the ship's mast with his rum being drank straight from the bottle by the woman.

All three of the pirates are gathered around him, each one with weapons very clearly visible on their persons.

Cesar squirms slightly. "You couldn't have at least let me sit down before tying me up?"

"Nah," says the woman, bottle to her lips.

Well.

Pirates.

Cesar looks around. It's an empty ship, no crew members in sight besides the three in front of him. The sails are down, and the anchor's chain is leading off the side of the ship. The deck is a mess, and the rigging is knotted just so incorrectly that it's making Cesar's teeth hurt.

The balding man steps forward, his hand resting on the end of his sword on his belt.

"What crew do you work for, then?" he asks, fake smile and even faker gold teeth.

"None," Cesar truthfully replies. "I'm out here on my own?"

Presumably-Joui furrows his brow in confusion. "In a rowboat?"

Cesar shrugs. "It was all I could afford."

That, though, is a lie. His mother left him one hell of a fortune when she passed, and all that money is currently siting in a bank back home waiting for his return. (He'll never actually return, but the money doesn't need to know that.)

But, well, it's a bunch of pirates. They don't need to know the truth.

(Mostly because the truth, of course, is too strange for anyone, even a pirate, to believe.)

Silence. Physical silence so heavy that it weighs Cesar's shoulders down. It sits in the pit of his stomach and tugs on his tongue, begging him to talk.

The woman leans over to whisper to the balding man. His face crinkles, and he whispers back with his hand cupped over her ear.

Cesar chooses to lock eyes with Maybe-Joui.

He looks... nice? He smiles when Cesar makes eye contact, though he stays a fair distance away from the mast, a full step or so behind the other two pirates.

A literal second of eye contact is all Cesar can take, though; he shivers and swallows the lump in his throat and looks up at the sky, instead.

Stars.

And the moon.

Bald and Woman's whispering gets louder as they start to argue.

"We are not telling him!" Bald hisses. "Are you crazy?"

Woman rolls her eyes. "What else are we supposed to do? He is literally ten feet below us right now!"

"Yeah, and he probably heard us bringing him up," Maybe-Joui adds.

Both Bald and Woman snap their heads towards Maybe-Joui with narrowed eyes.

"This is a private conversation!" Woman huffs.

"Cover your ears," Bald tells him.

Maybe-Joui's face falls, but he nods and puts his hands over his ears, though not without mumbling, "Maybe don't speak so loudly next time..."

He even closes his eyes for good measure. How polite.

But Cesar, facing him, can see that the way his hands are placed leaves plenty of room for sound to sneak in.

Cesar bites back a smile; he can always appreciate a good fofoqueiro.

"What about me?" he asks. "Do I need to cover my ears, too?"

Woman and Bald both ignore him. Assholes.

Sighing, Cesar tips his head back until it's resting against the mast.

At least they aren't sea zombies, he tells himself.

"We could use the extra help..." Bald muses.

Suddenly, there's the sound of a hand striking cloth, and an offended, "Hey!"

"Are you crazy?!" Woman argues. "He might be an occultist!"

"Look at him, he's, like, twelve. How many occultists do we know that are children?"

Okay, what?

"I'm 29," Cesar sighs.

He tilts his head down to give the pirates a tired look.

They both look at him with varying levels of confusion on their faces.

"Maybe he is an occultist," Bald admits.

"Maybe we should get Cris," Woman adds.

A shudder goes down Cesar's spine at that.

A cloud passes over the moon.

Foreboding.

Maybe-Joui's eyes snap open, and he drops his hands back to his sides.

"Oh, are we getting Cris?" he asks. "I can get him."

Cesar barely manages to hold back a wince.

A cold wind blows across the ship's deck.

Foreboding.

Cesar flexes his arms against the ropes tying to him to the mast. He isn't that strong, but maybe...

Oh, who is he kidding? There's no way that he's on this ship. What would be the odds of that?

The ship creaks.

And then Cesar hears them: footsteps. From below, wooden planks groaning in protest of the weight on them; a door opening.

Panic rises in Cesar's throat. It's bitter and horrible and familiar in the same way as an old blanket and, suddenly, he has a bad feeling.

"Throw me overboard," he hoarsely says, looking right at Maybe-Joui because he, at least, seems normal.

Maybe-Joui's eyes widen. "What? No!"

Woman claps her hands together. "Well, you heard him, boys. Let's throw him overboard."

Cesar strains against the ropes. His ears ring. The moon is looking at him, judging. The pirates are looking at him, judging. His chest hurts. His arms hurt. Is he bleeding again? His shirt feels wet. Damnit.

Bald holds up a hand. "Now, hold on, look at him. Something's wrong."

Of course something is wrong, something is always wrong!

Woman puts the bottle of rum down on the deck. She crosses her arms, a frown appearing on her face.

"Hmph," she brilliantly says.

Maybe-Joui perks up slightly. "Guys, I hear someone moving downstairs."

Woman and Bald tense. They look at each other, having a silent conversation that Cesar, frankly, could care less about.

"Cris," they say in unison.

Bald turns to look at Cesar, and something weird lights up in his eyes.

He smiles, slightly, and he takes a full step back away from the mast, stretching his arms above his head.

"Liz, darling, take a good look at our guest," he calmly says.

Foreboding.

Cesar flinches as a door slams open on the other side of the deck.

Woman's eyes widen. "Oh. I see."

"I don't," Maybe-Joui says.

"What are we seeing?" a fourth voice- utterly grating and horrible and terrible and shitty and bad and disgusting- calls, a yawn and a smile in his voice.

Panic falls way to anger, which falls to hatred, which falls to nothing.

Cesar goes limp, falling back against the mast and looking down at the deck. He's. Tired.

"Who's this?" he hears.

"We have a guest," Bald hums. "Joui fished him out of the ocean. He hasn't given us a name yet, but... maybe you can help with that?"

The deck creaks with every heavy footstep.

Once, Cesar's mother told him about his "father": a tall, handsome man with a big hat and wide shoulders. He was a sailor, she said, and he always came home from his voyages with gold and silver and the finest jewelry Cesar's mother had ever seen.

A few weeks after Cesar was born, Cesar's father left for another trip. He left a letter behind. He left his wife behind.

He left his son behind.

"He can play the accordion," Maybe-Joui helpfully says. "I think we should keep him."

"I'm not an animal," Cesar grumbles.

He looks firmly at his boots even as the hulking figure of the fourth pirate comes to stand in front of him.

"Well?" Woman asks.

"Why is he tied up?" the pirate asks, sounding almost upset. "Hold on..."

Hands start tugging at the ropes.

And then they suddenly stop.

"Wait a minute..." the pirate murmurs.

"Oh, this will be good," Woman quietly says to her friends.

"Look at me," the pirate gently orders, voice cracking as his two hands settle on either side of Cesar's face.

Cesar sneers and tries to shrug off the pirate's touch. "Go fuck yourself, old man."

The pirate gasps, "It is him!"

And then Cesar is being pinned to the mast as the pirate hugs him, wrapping his beefy arms around both Cesar and the mast and Cesar can't breathe for so many reasons-

"Cesar!" the pirate weeps, tears in his voice and running down his face and dampening Cesar's hair. "My boy!"

Cesar tries to become one with the mast. Why didn't they throw him overboard?

"Cristopher," he stiffly replies. "I can't breathe."

The pirate backs up immediately, though his hands remain on Cesar's shoulders.

For the first time in years, Cesar looks his father in the face, and he feels nothing.

The pirate is crying. Cristopher is crying, the overemotional old man. He's gained a massive scar on his face since Cesar last saw him, and his hair has gone fully white. He's in his pajamas already even though it's barely past sunset.

"Girl!" he shouts over his shoulder. "Untie my son!"

Maybe-Joui winces. "Um, Mr. Cris, I'm not sure-"

"Gladly," Woman smirks.

She approaches, winks as she passes Cesar and steps behind the mast.

Cesar desperately tries to avoid Cristopher's gaze as he's being untied.

Maybe the sea zombies aren't too bad...

The ropes drop.

Cesar immediately makes a break for it, shoving past Cristopher and the balding man and running for the edge of the ship.

"Son!" Cristopher cries.

Cesar manages to get one leg over the ship's railing before two strong arms are wrapped around his chest and pulling him away from the edge.

"Don't be stupid," Maybe-Joui snaps, stumbling backwards with Cesar and expertly dodging the fists being thrown his way.

"Who's stupid!?" Cesar exclaims. He throws an arm out and points at a pained-looking Cristopher. "That guy's insane! I'd rather take my chances with the sea zombies!"

"'Insane'?" Cristopher repeats, face falling. "Cesar..."

Cesar glowers. "Don't."

He does stop fighting, though... mostly because he can see Bald and Woman snickering together near the mast.

Maybe-Joui drags him just a little bit further before dumping him on the deck. He crouches next to Cesar, head cocked slightly, a weird expression on his face. It's halfway a smile, halfway a frown, halfway a confused hmmmm? of a look.

And then he holds up a hand, one that was pressed against Cesar's stomach during the brief struggle. Even in the moonlight, it's clear to see how it's painted red.

He looks up and towards Woman.

"Liz-senpai?" he calls. "Is your office cleaned up yet?"

Cesar looks down at his stomach and groans, flopping fully onto the deck in defeat.

"What?" Woman asks. "Why... oh. Huh. Shit, okay. Help our new friend down, would you?"

Cesar doesn't so much as spare a glance in Cristopher's direction as Maybe-Joui and Bald each take a side and help him to his feet.

"What happened?" Cristopher demands. "Cesar, what happened?"

What else could it have been? Out of every monster Cesar's mother told him about, one came up time and time again in her stories as the worst of them all:

Pirates.

--

A/N: Hi! If you liked this, please let me know! I'm super nervous about writing for a different fandom, so any comments or reblogs or anything would be SUPER appreciated!

[lu-is-not-ok]

Again, since Sin Resources are even in-text described as feelings the Sinners themselves feel (from Sign of Roses observation log, describing the mechanic of sapping Sin Resources: "It was like some… emotion in me was getting snapped in half." and "Everyone told me that it was as though the bottled—up feelings inside them were melting away.") I don't see how it can be argued to be coming from anyone else other than Gregor himself.

The reason why it's possible for the Lust to "come from his arm" rather than specifically Gregor himself is because, despite his perception of it being otherwise, they are both still inherently part of one being. After all, his arm is a PTSD allegory - even if he may see it as him not being himself when in the middle of reliving his trauma, it is still a part of him. This does not apply with Hermann - a completely different person with seperate feelings and experiences.

There is currently no precedent for a situation where someone's E.G.O requires the feelings and experiences to come from a Completely Different Person. You'd have to have a really good reason for such a massive break from the rules and conventions to happen, especially when E.G.O are as a concept so inherently tied to the very self using them, to the point where E.G.O of the same abnormality can represent vastly different things for different people. It's a leap in logic that I simply can't stand by when the explanation of Lust coming from Gregor himself, just simply a part of himself that he wishes to be divorced from, is much more fitting with established lore and still explains why he can't fuel it himself.

I never disagreed with you on the fact of emotional and spiritual fulfillment being a part of Lust - it very much is so. But to say it has nothing to do with the idea of base desires at all is to actively ignore a massive amount of visual motives, design choices, and narrative points.

Base desires in this case aren't just, as you put it, "cannibalistic eating and fucking". Human connection could be said to be a base desire in the context of Limbus's narrative as well - aren't so many stories in Project Moon's world focused on how people will form relationships and care for one another even when the world actively stands in their way and punishes them for it? Humans are inherently social creatures after all.

Isn't that the point of Heathcliff's Lust, that his wish to connect with Catherine is so strong that he's willing to do anything to earn her back? Isn't that why for Erlking that Lust is replaced with Gloom, since he has fully abandoned that wish and instead is focused on destroying every Heathcliff that contributed to hurting Catherine? You could argue this Lust counts as emotional fulfillment too, but it's certainly no "higher goal" - it's a simple base desire of being cared for and to care for another, born in a household where such care was actively witheld.

Also the interpretation that Bloodfiends somehow seek out "enkephalin" is just. Straight up wrong and I have no idea where you got it from SFGHGF. We know Enkephalin comes from the central nervous system, Faust says so in Canto 1: "Enkephalin can only be extracted from the brain and the spinal nerves." It has no connection to blood whatsoever.

The Bloodfiends explicitly need Blood, the difference here however is that it's not a literal physical need - it's a conceptual one. It's not that the Blood they consume is Literally Consumed For The Emotions Held Within, but rather that, conceptually, to them Blood is everything they are. It's the culmination of their being - their feelings, ambitions, worth, reasons for existence. Without Blood, there is no Bloodfiend, because on a conceptual level it's the only thing their self is. It's a base need inherent to them as beings on an abstract level.

It works similarly to how Mermaids are formed through their human selves becoming one with the Whale that digests them, down to the conceptual level where it becomes impossible to tell where the human the Mermaid used to be ends and where the Whale it is now a part of begins. Or how many Singularities work by directly interacting with abstract concepts rather than physical reality, like K Corp's Tears bringing things back to a conceptual "previous state" and thus requiring to be processed with an idea, a concept of what that previous state even is in the first place to be able to work properly.

The connection between Lust and Addiction is explicitly made through the Mirror Dungeon floor packs - one of the Lust-themed floor packs has the name "Addicting Lust". Also, while Gregor does smoke, he is never actively pointed out to be smoking as much as Ryoshu does - someone who is consistently called out for being a chainsmoker to the point Vergilius only ever refers to her when telling people to not smoke on the bus. When Gregor is shown to smoke, it's primarily done in response to negative emotions - he's stress smoking, a Gloom-tinted action rather than Ryoshu's Lust-tinted chain addiction, which she does so frequently and unconditionally that she knows the exact time it takes her to finish a cigarette.

Goddammit the two-in-one theory is even supported by GAMEPLAY MECHANICS

HONG LU'S BASE ID IS SPLIT BETWEEN RUPTURE AND SINKING

Yuuup. I haven't mentioned it on here but yup.

Fun fact, he's the only Base Identity who uses two of the Major Status Effects rather than the usual one!

And just to add to it in case you think that doesn't matter - Faust is the only Base Identity who doesn't inflict any Major Status Effect, and we know she usually sees herself as more of a vessel for the Gesselschaft than a seperate person herself.

So clearly, there has to be Something to it.

[altcvnningham]

so i was reading this post and started yapping in the tags before deciding i actually just needed to make a separate post because i have brainworms. long unedited ramble sorry this doesn't make sense at all

adlerbell & co-dependency;

the sick irony lies in the fact that the co-dependency that exists within their relationship, most of the time, isn't even of their own volition, and yet they are the constant cause of their own entrapment. they NEED one another as much as they hate one another because they ARE each other. to their core.

bell is everything adler hates and opposes and wars against yet he NEEDS them to catch perseus no matter the cost; adler is bound to bell in a way where he is ironically beholden to them, his fate in their hands, even when he's technically the one in control, with the power and rank over them, the one holding the leash. yet without bell adler has little to nothing. powerless entirely. in that way, bell has power over him, that his whole world rests upon the pinprick that is their loyalty to him, which is a hairswidth away from being shattered the second they piece together who they are, what he's done to them.

and bell is obviously only who they are because of adler. warped god wrenching hands into their head and rearranging it all until they suit whatever he deems his perfect image when he needs it. friend, ally, team member. dog, prey, victim. whatever he needs them to be, they are.

and bell's entire personhood is adler. bell's entire world is adler. half himself, a mirror image, their head a scrambled soup of his memories and fears, of vietnam, of things that didn't happen to bell but did happen to adler, a point in time that existed but they were not a part of, not until adler dragged their body off that tarmac and forced them to be. without adler, bell is dead in trabzon, or nothing. and that kind of co-dependency is indescribable- to believe that this man is one who went through the horrors of war with you, your friend for over a decade, is one thing. but even when bell breaks free of their conditioning- to know that they are possibly only alive because he found them? to know that mk ultra, despite being the very thing that destroyed them, was the only thing that stood between them and an unmarked grave??

bell wants adler. but adler needs bell. and mf wants to stand at that fucking clifftop and claim that none of it was personal?? he created a home for bell within himself, how they trust him, rely on him, believe that he'll always pick them up- because even if not in vietnam, he did, once, in trabzon. and bell is a home to all the worst parts of himself, scraped out of him and put into the empty pit he carves out of them- his weaknesses, his fears, his trauma, his ruthlessness. (i could talk about how adler's hatred of bell might even be a reflection not only of them being the very culmination of everything he opposes, but that they're also an amalgam of every worst thing he hates about himself, but that's another post entirely.)

i just. it wasn't meant to be personal. bell was a tool for adler, and adler was just this figure meant to be imprinted on. all means to an end. but against their own volition, they rely on each other. they need each other. they are dead without each other. i think adler needs bell to make himself feel powerful. but god, if they aren't the very thing he has to tiptoe around and revere because without them he has nothing. no team, no perseus. and to bell, adler is not too far removed from a god, whether they know it or not. he made them. and i doubt the lamb wants to stray much too far from its shepherd. ugh. whatever.

don't even get me started on how their fates are inevitably intertwined. how even the narrative itself demands them be slave to each other's will. fuck everything

[mvmnbnv]

If only shipping was enough for me to overlook the questionable writing choices. It would make watching this show the easiest thing ever.

What also just really sucks about being a fan of Vi, is that 99% of Vi’s fanbase can’t see her existence outside of Caitlyn. I do like Caitvi, but there is zero interest in other parts of her story or her overall character outside of Caitlyn. Even her relationship with her sister is of zero interest to the majority of her fans.

I pretty much noticed only a certain demographic of niche Vi fans took issue with the awful writing and balant disrespect to her character.

Watching act 3, Vi really felt like a side character. I had to do a double take in what I was watching because it had become completely unrecognizable. Vi’s writing was just really upsetting to me. It just sucks that not only did the show trash her character, but that most of her fans don’t care about her personal feelings or the trauma she went through. They just expect her to be magically cured and care about nothing else in her life, only her girlfriend.

Really unfortunate that the shipping version of her character became canon. When I watched act 1 I was like, “It sounds like a shipper wrote this”, then I remembered resident shipper Amanda Overton is in charge of writing her character and Caitlyn’s lmao.

Yeah they massacred her all season really. She never makes any choice for herself in act 1, is pretty much a side character in act 2, and act 3 just made me think they hate her...sex in a prison cell where one she never gets pleasure herself and two when they didn't even have the decency to explore her trauma at all beforehand. That same genuine care that cait had for her in s1 is just not seen anymore. Meanwhile they give Jayce these poetic speeches about how he just wants his partner back and it's not even romantic, but way more thought out than whatever they did with caitvi. Vi calling herself the "dirt under caits nails" too??? My god...like I get that means you can't get rid of her but the least they could do after not giving a fuck about her all szn, not having cait give any cares about her aside from what we heard from other characters, and a gross sex scene, was NOT compare her to dirt of all things...like atp i'm convinced they fucking hate her and want us all to know it bc wtf, and how anyone can be okay with this is beyond me

[professor-geen-berries]

People will be saying "oh Sirius would love musical theatre" "Remus would be such a theatre kid" WELL WHAT ABOUT JAMES???

James would have been OBSESSED with musicals and nobody can change my mind. When he found out that muggles put on shows where they sang songs to tell the story and had choreographed DANCE NUMBERS to go with them, he would have totally flipped out. Like "MUGGLES DO WHAT!?! HOW HAVE I NOT KNOWN ABOUT THIS BEFORE!!!! THAT'S TOTALLY AWESOME! ITS LIKE A PLAY, BUT SINGING!!" And you know he would have hated going to plays and the theatre because his adhd ass could NOT concentrate on the plot. But with MUSICALS, there is SINGING!! and DANCING!! and he can actually CONCENTRATE!

And the more he learned about musicals, the more he would love them. He'd be absolutely blown away by the vocal range and athleticism of the people performing, and their DEDICATION. And he'd love the songs and plots even more. You know he would keep the others up all night like "did you know that there's musical retellings of muggle history? Theres one called come from away which is about these people in Canada who have to take in thousands of people into their small town because planes have been diverted, because of the planes hitting the twin towers in New York. Oh and there's this one called into the woods, which is about a bunch of different muggle fairytales- Remus, why are muggle fairy stories so dark? There's this one where this girl Cinderella, she goes to a ball and loses her slipper, and the prince uses it to find her, but her two evil sisters want to marry him so they pretend the shoe fits them, but get this- they CUT OFF CHUNKS OF THEIR FOOT TO GET THE SLIPPER ON!! That's crazy!!!!! But the songs are really good though. They are written by this guy called Steven Sondheim, and he's really clever with the lyrics and the speech patterns and-" "FOR FUCK'S SAKE JAMES GO TO BED"

He definitely found a way to include it in most conversations he had, especially in muggle studies. At one point they would have been assigned an essay on a part of muggle culture or lifestyle they find interesting, and James for sure wrote 10 pages worth of stuff on musicals.

I think his favourite musical was probably hairspray but I reckon he just couldn't decide.

I know half these musicals didn't exist in the 70s let's pretend this is the modern day mkay

I'm gonna be making a part 2.

[recurring-polynya]

In one of my other fanfics, I made an allusion to a story from Rukia and Renji's youth where she got nervous about the size of her chest and made Renji give an opinion on the matter. I was always very charmed by the idea of it, and earlier this week, I felt like writing it, so I did. Originally, I didn't intend to post it, because it skirts a little close to underage sex stuff, but a) they're immortal ghosts and they live on their own and become child soldiers like two years later, and b) it's really nothing. Teens, even human teens, can see a boob. It's fine. Don't read it if it bothers you. Also, if this bears resemblance to multiple stories I have written in the past, it's because I think Rukia is just like that. This will probably not be the last one, either.

Rated a hearty PG-13 for cussing, partial nudity, and some adolescent sexual awakening

| read on ao3 |

"Renji," said Rukia. "I need your opinion on something."

Renji had been breaking up sticks to dry out for firewood around the backside of the broken-down squat he and the gang had been trying to get into shape for their winter digs. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm. "My opinion?" he grumbled. "Is everyone else off somewhere?" It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't heard anyone else's voice in a while.

"Well, yes," Rukia mumbled. "They went into the woods to try and set some traps and maybe do some foraging. But I'm not asking because you're the only one around. I was waiting to ask you until everyone was busy."

That got Renji's attention. This was not the first time Rukia had cornered him like this. He assumed she did this to the other guys, too, but he didn't actually know for certain. Renji tossed the stick in his hand back onto the pile and turned to give Rukia his full attention. She was standing in a funny way, her arms crossed awkwardly over her chest. She looked almost like she was cold, except that it was early September and still sweltering.

"What's up?" he asked.

"You're going to wonder why I am asking you this," she said, her eyes fixed somewhere off to one side, "and it's because I'm trusting you not to be weird about it. Everyone else would try, but then they would be weird about it, and I know you won't be."

Renji continued to regard her silently. She wasn't asking anything particular of him, just stating what she expected. Renji decided he liked the idea of being a guy who wasn't weird about stuff, and decided he would do his best to uphold that trust. He was also prepared for whatever she was going to say next to be spectacularly weird. This was Rukia, after all.

"Also," she said, "you go around with your shirt off all the time. You're the least self-conscious person I know about. You know. Body stuff."

An alarm signal went zinging through Renji's nervous system. It was true that he wasn't all that concerned about bodies, his own or other people's. A long time ago, he'd had to make a decision about Rukia's body, which he sometimes had to touch and slept next to at night and had seen naked more than a few times. She'd become a little secretive about that recently, and he'd taken care to respect that decision and avert his eyes when he needed to and made sure all the other guys did too. The decision he had made was that Rukia's body was exactly like Fujimaru's and Mameji's and Kosaburou's, which was to say, it was a thing that existed but was none of his business, unless say, she needed an injury patched up or something like that.

"Something wrong?" he asked gruffly.

"Not-- well, I don't know. That's what--that's what the opinion is for."

Renji rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm really not sure I'm the right person to ask. I know the old herb lady is pretty deep in her own brain most the time, but if you catch her on a good day, she knows a lot of stuff about--"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Renji, I just want to know if my boobs are good or not!"

Renji stared at her. Rukia's face was beet red now.

"Uh…what?"

Rukia made a little huffing noise. "Look. I know you know I've been binding my chest for a while now."

Renji shrugged noncommittally. Rukia hadn't been particularly shy about letting them see her in her chest wrap. A lot of girls in Inuzuri did. Usually, it was a safety measure.

"I think they might be done growing. I'm worried they're…well, they're kinda small."

Renji ran his fingers through his hair and tried not to look at her. "Seems like that would make them easier to bind, no?"

"Well…yes, that's true."

"It's not like it's something you can control. You shouldn't worry about it."

"I just don't know! Maybe they're fine actually! I'm the only one who gets to see them and I think I may have gotten too wrapped around my own axle about it and I just wanted a second opinion, okay?"

Renji sighed. "Okay. Sure. If it'll make you feel better."

Rukia took a deep breath and then lowered her arms. Nervously, she tugged at her yukata below the sash to get it adjusted properly.

There was now the slightest curve in the fabric between her shoulders and her waist. Renji wasn't sure he even would have noticed it if she were just some girl he saw on the street. But that curve was there, and it was doing something weird to the pit of his stomach.

Cleavage was no rare sight in Inuzuri. Both in the streets and the gambling halls, plenty of women kept theirs on display for, uh, business reasons. Renji could tell the difference between the more and less attractive sets, but he'd never been quite as excited by the prospect of a hearty set of tits as some of his peers. He didn't think this constituted any kind of moral high ground. The fact was, he was just mostly into dudes. A pair of well-muscled forearms or a particularly sharp jawline was usually more likely to do him in. But there was something about that mysterious curve, the suggestion of tits, of Rukia's tits…

"They look fine to me," he announced.

Rukia looked down at them and frowned thoughtfully.

A strange, slightly foreign thought, possibly a stray memory from his human life, popped into Renji's brain. "Isn't there even--like with fancy kimono--aren't you supposed to make a smooth profile? Maybe you've just got a fancy-lady figure."

Some of the color had receded from Rukia's cheeks. "Why do you always know these things? Also--fat lot of good that's going to do me."

Renji shrugged. "What kinda good were you hoping they were gonna do you, anyway? I mean, you wouldn't wanna-- that is--" He grimaced, thinking about business reasons again.

"I might like to kiss someone, someday!" Rukia declared, cheeks going hot once more. "I'd like…to be worth looking at. You're going to be ten feet tall and have shoulders for days and you've already got that hair, so I realize that's something you've probably never once thought about."

Renji stared at her uncomprehendingly. "You think I'm good-looking?"

Rukia seemed to be staring at something over her shoulder. "You're certainly striking."

Renji had honestly never thought about himself in that way before. Mostly, he thought he'd stuck out in a way that was mostly pretty inconvenient, given their skulking and pickpocketing lifestyle.

"You have an interesting voice," he pointed out, drawing the words out as he tried to think of more things a theoretical person who was not him might find attractive about Rukia. "And you're good at a lot of things." She also had a pretty face, maybe the prettiest face he'd ever seen in Inuzuri, with big blue eyes that you could just fall into. He couldn't say all that shit, though. It would just embarrass both of them, plus she would think he was lying to make her feel better. He wasn't. It wasn't even, like, his opinion, it was just the objective truth.

Rukia huffed again, clearly unsatisfied.

Renji threw up his arms. "They're under your clothes! Wouldn't you rather kiss someone who likes you because you're cool, rather than because you've got a nice pair of knockers? Which isn't even to say they aren't nice! You just can't tell! They could be great under there. That's it's own kind of allure. The-- the, uh, mystery." He regretted saying it the moment it was out of his mouth. This always happened with Rukia, though. He was always telling on himself.

Rukia stared at him for a long moment. Then she hooked her finger over the closure of her yukata and pulled it away, staring down into the depths.

"Are we done?" Renji asked, trying to sound bored and failing when his voice wavered on the last word.

Rukia looked back up at him. "You've never even see a naked girl-tit, have you, Abarai?"

Renji wrinkled his nose. "Not…not really, no. Not…head-on."

Rukia set her jaw. "Okay. We're doing this."

"What--" stammered Renji. "What are we doing? We don't need to--"

Rukia pulled her yukata wide and shimmied her shoulders loose.

Renji swallowed thickly.

He had changed his mind. He did, in fact, like girls. Fuck, did he like girls.

Rukia's breasts were small, that was just a fact. They were also gorgeous. Smooth and straight on top, ending in a sharp, rosy nipple. They curved gently on the underside back to where they rejoined her body, like two ripe, blushing pears. Renji could imagine cupping one in his hand, the way it would fit in his palm perfectly. He squeezed his hands into fists, reminding himself that they were dirty and covered in small bits of bark from breaking the sticks. He absolutely could not reach out and touch them, even beyond the possibility that Rukia would murder him if he did (would she, though? He wondered). It turned out this was a mistake, because now he was thinking about kissing Rukia's breasts, about the way they would taste, how he could take nearly the whole of one in his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Fuck, Rukia, put your shirt back on!"

"They can't be that bad," Rukia grumbled.

"They're not, they're really good! Surprisingly good! You should save them for whoever it is you want to kiss! Please put your shirt back on!"

"You're so weird," Rukia laughed, and he was glad to hear the ring of relief in her voice.

There was a long pause with a few rustles of fabric being adjusted. Renji chanced to unsqueeze one eye to see if she was dressed again. He was just in time to see her cross the second side of her yukata over the first, catching a last glimpse of a pretty little tit before the fabric settled over it. A secret once again, but no longer a mystery. Fuck.

"You can open your eyes now, you big baby," Rukia announced, reknotting her sash. Evidently she hadn't noticed him peeking. She wasn't even blushing anymore. "Thank you."

"I don't know why you asked me," Renji mumbled. "You know I'm no good at being reassuring and shit like that."

"I didn't want you to be reassuring," she replied, looking up and favoring him with a brilliant smile. "I wanted you to be honest. Which…clearly you were. I don't know what else that could possibly have been."

"Shut up," said Renji.

Rukia snorted softly. "Do you wanna go find the others and fix their snares for them? I'm sure they've set them up wrong."

"I wanna finish dealing with these sticks first," Renji replied. It took his entire strength of will to unclench his hands and pick up a stick, a long, heavy one. He winced when it broke much more easily than he had expected it to. The sound of it was deafening.

"I can help," Rukia said cheerfully, picking up another stick and snapping the side branches off it expertly, humming while she worked.

Renji picked up another stick, and suddenly wished the pile was bigger than it actually was.

"Hey, Renji?"

"What now?"

"They really are--?"

"Yes. Don't ask me again."

Rukia gave a little chuckle, and so softly that he almost didn't hear it, added, "Huh. Who knew?"

[juneleaf]

i dont get how people can be so vile towards caitvi but i do actually. i know theyre flawed and i would have been happier if jinx and vi got their happy ending together but the fact that yall are out here saying with your full chests that jayce and viktor or jinx and ekko should have had their happy ending smells fucking dank to me.

they did get their happy endings. ekko and powder are still together in the timeline where hextech doesn't exist. jayce and viktor find and choose each other in every iteration of the universe. but the one canon depiction of caitvi where they've lost so much and gained so little... you're mad YOUR pairing didn't get vi and cait's happy ending, if it could be called that? this is the greed they talk about in the bible

[lemoncattea]

Arcane 4am Rant season2 act 3 SPOILERS

Its like 4 in the morning and I'm losing it!

I just finished arcane act 3 season 2 and fuck I don't have friends to talk to this about so...

tumblr rant

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD!!!!!!!!

SEVIKA

Sevika being around and present for Piltover because of the connection she and the other zuanites have to their home and just the show of there compassion but also they only want those who are willing and not just those who have fighting ability. But seeing they care for their own; sending mothers and children away for safely. Makes you wonder if Jinx told her what happened to Isha.

Also love the fact she takes up the mantle of being a symbol of Zuan after jinx but also because she's seen each side Vander's (Peace) but only for some parts as that all he could do. Silco's (Power) causing infighting and sacrificing the weak and those out of his control and the one jinx made by accident (Hope) for life without the grey and enough food for everyone and one where everyone is equal topside or the undercity. Then Sevika left with a chair at the councillor's table now a leader for the Zuan taking up where jinx left she's hope but also remembrance of what divide can cause.

JINX RANT part

Jinx cutting her hair and finally letting go of all of her past and moving forward for her sister and the world. Lovely to see her grow and change this past season. It destroyed me which the fact we know that had she not died along side Vander. She could have had a life with Ekko and her sister. Also her and Vander's death were a great parallel to her death of powder and Isha. Being the death of innocent and agape. Also been loving the people who also noticed the parallels of jinx and Viktor being brought back from the dead pretty much by someone who cares so deeply for them. Their crazy smart minds and suicidal tendencies, their self worth issues and the fact the go out with someone who cares for them.

Jayce Viktor part of rant

Getting to see what Jayce saw destroyed me and the way Jayce said he never viewed Viktor's illness and disability has something to be a ashamed of but rather a part of Viktor that he admired as it made him who he was.

It's a confirming how much Jayce cares for Viktor. Then when Jayce shows Viktor that he was mage and the one to send back to stop himself. The fact that he was the mage was a theory I had but the fact he lead there to the hammer because what Viktor did resulted nothing but loneliness and destruction. Also when Viktor said in all timelines and all possibles only you can show this.

Also just the way he held Viktor's hand to help him contain the rune. But more than once they were separated and the fact at the first few times Viktor reached out to Jayce but stopped reaching out in the same way he stopped reaching out to Jayce in the first season when was getting sicker and changing himself with the shimmer and runes. It a great parallel of that but also it reflected the fact that he felt like he shouldn't reach out but each time Jayce comes to him like he's done time and time again.

You can see it in Viktor's eyes he's nervous and frustrated then for finally time Jayce's hand comes in wrapping around Viktor's. The way he place his other hand on Viktor's neck and they let the foreheads touch. They are so cannon!

Then they turned to dust and returned the world to normal together and then disappeared together that was Affection LOVE *cough cough* that held them together but seriously arcane took doomed gays ideas and did well like.. together then drifting apart, separated, enemies, friends to lover again to only be returned to dust as if they never existed but forever together. Its sweet and well written like a hozier lyric

[robotmechagirl]

A text conversation with my parental figures:

Me: “Got a bread machine at a thrift store with my girlfriend 😌

Found myself a love for making bread

It brings me back to watchin' you bake bread and make pizza dough. I remember you would freeze the dough to have an easier time makin' meals later.

It's such a vibe and it makes me feel happy because I can express my care for other people with fresh baked bread now.”

Aunt: “That's great [DEADNAME]. It's really good to know you have some good memories”

Me:

-Image depicted is a drinking glass-

“"Oh look! Sand!"

It's what you sound like right now :/“

Aunt/Uncle:

“I don't get it”

Me:

“Maybe pictures don't show for you via text.

Sent an image of a glass, the type you would hold drinks in, such as water.

Calling me by "son" and my dead name is like calling this glass sand. :/“

Aunt/Uncle:

“[DEADNAME] you didn't die. You have always been [DEADNAME]. You can't make me believe in a fairytale. Something you made up in your brain.

If you told me I have to start calling you Andre and Start looking at you and treating you as such, because you are an 8 foot tall giant I couldn't do that either. I refuse to get down on the floor and look up to you like you are a giant. You are no more an 8 foot giant than you are a girl. I cannot see you that way. I cannot treat you that way. I don't know how far you are planning on going down this rabbit hole. But you better be damn sure you have done all the research. Once things get cut off there is no going back! I raised 6 boys and 1 girl.”

Me:

“The fairytale is thinking that I'm this image you've built for me based on your own misconceptions about the world. 😩

There's a butt load of medical research, literature, and history that you could read to understand the phenomena that is the existence and validity of transgender people. It would benefit you to learn it because ya clearly don't have an inkling about the subject given your piss poor analogies.

But I can't expect y'all to read it because y'all have told me ya can't even be bothered to read your own holy book. The hypocrisy at tellin' me to reread it is wild to me.

Y'all are so trapped by your ignorance ya can't even see I'm thriving over here and how much good it's done for my mental, emotional, and physical health.

I wanted very much to have a healthy relationship with my parental figures, to let y'all be part of my life, but y'all are proving to be toxic as fuck. Quite frankly I don't need it and am content to disconnect to leave ya to your own business. This grown ass woman has her own life to live ✌️🕊️”

Aunt/Uncle:

“We have read the Bible. And even your "research" isn't in the Bible. We will always love you [DEADNAME]. We just don't agree with you. You are the only one disconnecting from us because we don't agree.

And my analogy isn't any more piss poor than yours”

Me:

“"I know you are, but what am I?"

Is what you sound like

And nah, you don't get to be hateful and say that you love me. It doesn't matter your intentions, you're acting shitty. I'm disconnecting because you're acting shitty towards me and I have way too much self respect to accept this treatment.”

Aunt/Uncle:

“I am not being shitty to you. I am allowed to disagree with you. It is a free country. We do love you whether you believe it or not”

Me:

“You're not acting like it 😩

I'm okay with you believing differently. What I'm not okay with is the shitty behavior stemming from those beliefs and I reserve the right to disassociate from the toxicity.

I'm not gonna pretend to be someone or something I'm not just because you can't unpack your own biases.

If y'all want to still be a part of my life you're gonna have to meet me where I'm at with this. Otherwise, señora”

Aunt/Uncle:

“We will pray for you [DEADNAME]. We love you”

Me:

“Lies and pettiness

I don't need your prayers

Focus them on yourselves”

Aunt/Uncle:

“Good bye”

Me:

“Bye”

Below is the image from earlier: