#he'd probably like solving a murder right

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[alexitheslayer02]

I just realized...

The monkeys would be the most dangerous Yanderes (don't ask why this came to mind, it's one of my groggy morning brain thoughts). Like... Wukong D.O. (Destined One) Macaque (lmk only cause I have not seen him in any other adaptation.) AND MK TOO NGL

Just... Humor me for a moment.

It probably should be obvious. But it's not just danger levels from powers, but also their personality. Like, I can picture Mackie being on "Phantom of the Opera" type shit with his theater boi ass (what in the sweet heavens did I just type?)

Whereas, Wukong would be VERY clear on everything. He will not play around. Meanwhile the obsessive/possessiveness would probably just sneak up on MK. Like, he might not even realize it until he sees you around someone else and is like "Hold up- no. No, no, no. That's not right now, get back here."

D.O. on the other hand surprises you.

-------------- My thoughts/Headcanons

-------------- //Macaque\\

You can not convince me that this dramatic, petty, theater boy little shit (/aff) would not act like dude in "Phantom of the Opera". He probably would not make anyone sing, but dammit, he is manipulative and tricksy when he wants to be. And his shadow skills would make it easy to spy on you like bro in "Phantom of the Opera" does through the mirror. I don't know if he would set a theater on fire though- At most though, he'd be the stalker that tries to keep you safe. He does get possessive, but he would only kill if he had to. He's far more patient.

//Wukong\\

The yanderest of the yanderes in this list methinks, regardless of the version. Cause yeah no, bro is legit, book canonly, unhinged as is. He is already trigger happy to kill from the start. Yes, he does try, though not very hard, to talk things out. But there are certain things he won't even bother talking out. I feel, if yandere, this would be one of the things where peace was never an option. Like, I feel he would say, "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn" if you try to chastise him for killing someone who looked at you wrong hhh

//MK\\

^ See this? Totally not the face of a crazy person, right?

He is a little angel! There's the danger. He has absolutely no clue how crazy he himself can get, so... like Wukong, he is a loose cannon, but in a different way. There would be no warning signs until it's too late and he is covered in....

ketchup ^^ Yeah, that's what it is, don't worry, that person is just sleeping. Sleeping very, very, VERY still. In all seriousness, murder would not be his go to problem solving method. He is smarter than that, believe it or not. Murder is illegal, and would be highly counterproductive. He'd be aggressively affectionate. Lots and lots of gifts, hugs that are perhaps a tad clingy, things like that. (I do headcanon him as a hopeless romantic. So the tropey/cheesy romance things would be his natural go to)

His insecurities though, could build up and lead to an exploding steam pot if not careful. Basically... Give the boy your attention and he should be fine for the most part. Heavens forbid he catches you cheating though... No one will survive, not even him.

//D.O.\\

Speaks one or two words a year, legitimately one of the most calm individuals in any universe. I don't think anyone has ever seen him lose his shit. While Wukong is clearly unhinged, MK hyperactive, and Macaron is dramatic, this guy seriously comes out of nowhere if you don't know what to look for. He is open, his silence however hides that. The possessive/obsessive behavior would mostly show in his body language, expressions, and how he might hold you. If you don't pay attention, it will surprise you. That is, if he ever leaves any evidence for you to be concerned over :) After all, he knows you would not like it if you found out he killed someone who got too close. So why would he let his sweetheart find out...?

---------------------------- That's all! Have a nice day :D

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddie-week.

Reach Out and Touch Someone

Day #7 - Prompt: Free Space | Word Count: 1500 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Alcohol | POV: Steve | Tags: AU, Wrong Number, Right Person Trope, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Meet-Cute

Steve dials the number messily scrawled on the scrap of paper. He’s nervous. He’s always nervous when he has to stick his neck out and make a move on a girl these days. 

Yeah, he did the first bit of legwork and got her number out at the bar last night. But he's fumbled the ball and failed enough times, Robin's loving, but accurate, "you suck" burned in his brain, that he's always leery to try again. He should be used to it by now, but it’s still uncomfortable and awkward, every goddamn time. If his friends weren't all fretting about his emotional well-being from being so terminally alone, he wouldn’t put forth half the effort anymore. 

He has Robin. He has his cat. He's happy. 

It rings three times before he hears it connect, “Hello?”

It’s a man’s voice, and he hesitates for just a moment, “I’m looking for, uh, Lyla?”

“Sorry, man. Wrong number.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I must have misdialed,” Steve says, a different kind of embarrassment. But this is one he can handle easier, for sure. So he pushed the wrong button somewhere along the way. His eyesight isn't the best thing he's got going for him.

“No worries, man,” the other guy laughs, seemingly carefree about being bothered.

They each disconnect and then Steve reads, and re-reads, the number before dialing again. More carefully this time.

It rings only once before it’s connected.

“Still me, dude,” the familiar voice relays, still light and friendly.

“Wow. I’m so sorry. Clearly, I was given a fake number. That's embarrassing,” Steve laughs, because this is more embarrassing than misdialing. He's uncomfortable and mortified to admit that this girl just didn't want him to call her. Even if he's only admitting it to a stranger.

She should have just told him no. He hates that she didn't, for her sake, too.

“Shitty move,” the other guy answers.

“Yeah, well. I'm sorry I bothered you. Again. I promise to cross-check any future numbers against yours before dialing, just in case.”

The guy laughs, "Well, now. Don't go to any trouble for my sake. Honestly,” and he doesn't sound put-out at all, “don’t worry about it. She clearly didn’t have the balls to just, be, like, honest. That sucks.”

Steve laughs, maybe if she'd had balls this wouldn't have happened at all. Most men feel more comfortable just saying no, he thinks, which is sad but true. He swings both ways, and maybe he should take this as a sign to lean the other way for a while. See if that works out any better for him. 

It probably won't, but he could try.

“There goes my big weekend plans,” Steve teases, uncertain why he does it, even as the words tumble out of his mouth. He needs to hang up the phone and let this guy get back to his own life.

“Dude. That's a problem I can solve. I’m gigging tonight. You have to come. Let me entertain you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Whatever. I want to. Just show up. It’ll be a great story, will it not?”

It would be a great story. One he could even tell Robin to convince her he’s living a little, “I don’t even know your name. What if you’re a serial killer or something?”

“Yep, that’s me. Vicious killer,” the guy laughs, “I’m Eddie, man. And I’m a fucking ball to be around. You’ll want to take me up on this awesome offer. We’ll all be down at Hellfire Club around eight. Show up. If you think we’re murderous, you don’t have to follow us to any secondary, secluded locations.”

Hellfire Club is literally two blocks from Steve’s apartment. He's been past it countless times, but never inside. It's always dark. Like it's not even open, making him unsure about what kind of bar it is, it's so nondescript from the outside. Not to mention the name is a little intimidating. He'd half-convinced himself it's a BDSM club. 

But, now that he's been invited, he could just walk down and see what’s the what, “How will I know which guy you are?”

Eddie laughs, “You’ll know. Trust me.”

Steve has a hard time trusting anyone new these days, but Eddie seems friendly enough. 

Steve realizes he must have been quiet for too long, because Eddie starts talking again.

“I’ll have on a badass battle vest. Look for that. You'll see me. It's impossible not to. I promise.”

“Okay,” Steve agrees, even if he’s not sure what a battle vest even is.

“Now, are you going to tell me your name, or will that just be a surprise?” Eddie asks.

Steve laughs, “Steve. I’m Steve.”

“Well, I’ll see you later, Steve.”

Steve stands in front of his closet for far too long, trying to find something to wear that doesn’t look too nerdy. He assumes Eddie's cool. He sounded cool, and Steve may have been cool in high school, but these days he just keeps his head down and goes through life, content to be fairly unnoticed. He finally settles on a black t-shirt. Basic, classic. Timeless.

Boring. 

But that's a risk he's willing to take.

He walks down the street slowly and arrives around eight-thirty. The windows are still all blacked out, tinted to the point he can't see anything inside. There's just the neon sign with the Hellfire Club over the door.

When he pulls open the door, he's in a hallway that's painted all black, with a bouncer at the end, stationed at a door. Steve kind of wants to turn around, flee, but he doesn't. He's already here. He might as well at least see. Robin will kill him if he chickens out.

He gives his ID to the bouncer, and is directed down a staircase. He really hopes this isn't a sex club. 

It's not.

And as soon as he crosses the threshold into the bar, yes, he knows Eddie instantly. He’s gotta be the one on the bar, pouring shots directly into various mouths. Steve knows he could turn around right now and this adventure could end. But watching Eddie laughing and prancing up and down the bar with flourish, clearly having fun, makes Steve want to go up and meet this guy.

Steve takes an open seat at the end of the bar, kind of out of the way, and just watches Eddie work the crowd.

The bar is blaring It's Raining Men and Eddie is playing up the song, big time. He's not a stripper, at least Steve doesn't think he is, but he's working the crowd for tips, absolutely. He keeps handing them down to a curly-headed guy, who keeps stuffing them into an overflowing jar.

Steve's pretty sure this is a gay club, or at least queer friendly. Maybe he has found a place for himself, something that's been right here under his nose, all this time.

When Eddie finally jumps down off the bar, Steve watches him work the rest of the room.

The other guy comes over and takes Steve's order, and he doesn't quite have the same flourish, but he's efficient and confident with a bottle and jigger.

"Name for the tab?" he asks, shaking the drink Steve had picked from the list.

"Steve," Steve says, and the guy looks up and meets his eyes.

Surely not. This doesn't feel like this is Eddie. He is wearing a vest, a red plaid one, but the other guy also has a denim vest on, full of patches.

"Eddie?" Steve questions, needing to make sure.

"Gareth," the guy says, "that's Eddie," he clarifies, pointing at the one Steve had correctly clocked as Eddie to begin with. "You're his wrong number guy, right?"

Steve nods. He supposes that's what he is, "Yeah. That's me. Loser in love."

Gareth laughs, and it makes Steve smile.

"That's our specialty here, you'll feel right at home," Gareth teases.

"Glad to hear it."

"I'll tell him you're here," Gareth assures, "he wasn't sure you'd come."

"That makes two of us," Steve admits, and Gareth smiles as he finishes shaking Steve's drink, putting it down in front of him.

"On the house. First-timers to Hellfire drink free," Gareth says, and then he's walking away. 

Steve's eyes follow Gareth across the bar, watching as he taps Eddie on the shoulder, leaning close to his ear, pointing right at Steve.

Eddie looks, meets his eyes, and Steve raises his hand, giving him a small, little wiggle of his fingers.

A huge smile spreads across Eddie's face as he bounds in Steve's direction.

Eddie's quickly right in his personal space, squeezing both of Steve's shoulders, greeting him with a smile, "Welcome to Hellfire."

Steve smiles, liking the feeling of Eddie's hands bleeding through his t-shirt, warming him.

Eddie lets go, and Steve misses the feeling already, but Eddie stays. Sliding onto the stool next to Steve, "I'm glad you came."

And Steve's completely honest as he answers, "Me too."

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

Notes: If you're too young to remember it, reach out and touch someone was the slogan/jingle for Bell System telephone company back in the day. So, that's where the title comes from, as a play on the wrong number phone call trope.

[ryin-silverfish]

Heart and Mind: An Analysis of Tripitaka

I've been wanting to write this since…since I came across some good ol' Tripitaka discourse in the LMK fandom ages ago. Couldn't remember the specifics, but as y'all probably know, it falls under the "Is him an abusive master" and people's strongly worded retort to that question.

On one hand, I dislike the "abusive" take because so often, it is an excuse to reduce a character to an 2D caricature for cheap angst purposes, and both JTTW and its historical context deserve more nuances than that.

On the other hand, I don't agree with some of the defenses either——that Tripitaka is Kind and Wise and The Virtuous Monk, Actually, and people who said otherwise just had their views colored by adaptations, or were ignorant westerners misreading the book.

Because trust me, Chinese readers absolutely have gripes with Tripitaka too, and sass him mercilessly.

We may have a better idea of the historical context, namely, the common usage and acceptance of corporal punishments, but quite a few of us don't think he's a good Buddhist either.

Instead, I'd like to focus on his allegorical role, and how it ultimately forms the basis for my interpretation of his character.

It is commonly acknowledged that each pilgrim represent an aspect of the enlightenment seeker: Monkey is the Mind, Dragon Horse the Will, Pigsy the Desire, Sandy the Determination/Ideation.

Tripitaka is either the enlightenment seeker as a human, or the Heart, the Compassion.

But how can someone represent Compassion when his behaviors don't look all that compassionate, when he seems to care more about what a good Buddhist looks like on paper than in spirit?

How can a compassionate man punish his disciple with a migraine spell and disown him twice, be okay with some violence but not others?

Well, to answer that question, I feel like you have to look at Tripitaka in conjunction with SWK, and what the monkey represents. He is literally the Mind Monkey, the boundless potential of human intellect, and that, by itself, is neutral.

In the word of one of the best poems in JTTW:

"He could be good; he could be bad; present good and evil he could do at will. He'd be an immortal, a Buddha, if he's good; wickedness would cloak him with hair and horn."

To put it simply, SWK is one's wits, one's problem-solving skills, the ability to discern good and evil on a cognitive level.

Whenever Tripitaka, the Compassion, is deceived, it falls to the Mind to see the opponents as they are, and take action to protect the human from harm.

But just as blind compassion without judgement can be exploited by evil, the reverse is true for a mind without compassion, driven solely by their own ambition and whims and practical knowledge.

The Mind knows that robbery is a crime, so these robbers deserve death, but has no idea how disturbing it is for a regular guy to witness six people being brutally murdered in front of him.

The Mind knows that abandoning your wife and family to become a bandit is shameful and unfilial, but cannot comprehend why the bandit's father may not want his son killed for these offenses.

The Mind knows right and wrong, but has trouble seeing the human behind those acts, and why one should care in the first place.

And to see what the Mind looks like without any of Compassion's restraint, one needs to look no further than SWK's "Second Mind", the Six-eared Macaque.

Just like how "Heart" sounds like a lame power for a character, Compassion isn't flashy, nor as useful in a strictly ultilitarian sense. In fact, having compassion makes you vulnerable. It hurts. And unscrupulous people will absolutely use it against you.

So why hold onto your weakness and wallow in it? The world doesn't need another sanctimonious wuss, it needs strong, clever people making hard sacrifices, ruthless, logical decisions! Tough up! Stop caring, and you'll never be hurt again!

Much like a certain crowd who think basic human decency is somehow political propaganda, perhaps, when SEM struck Tripitaka, he was trying to do the same thing.

Kill the embodiment of compassion, the sniveling, useless, fragile human that keeps holding SWK back. Replace him as the true Mind, the one strong enough to break all bonds and seize glory with his own two hands.

But without compassion, without humanity, one is no longer a whole person, and cannot reach enlightenment. In fact, just like how Buddha would only give the True Scripture to Tripitaka, if you are not brave enough to make yourself vulnerable, to suffer and feel other's suffering, you will never transcend it.

At best, you can have some pale imitations of the parts you have willingly shut out from yourself.

And that's what SEM does. He thought he could do it on his own, singlehandedly replace SWK and reap the benefits of enlightenment, but he is no Monkey Awakened to Emptiness.

He is just empty; cut off desires because it is base, cut off determined ideation because it is foolish, cut off compassion because it is weak, cut off the altruism and curiosity and creativity from the mind, and you are left with a grand total of NOTHING.

A shadow of a self, desperately clinging onto external validation and stolen stories, reading the pilgrim's travel paperwork out loud as if that would actually make the journey his.

Tripitaka needs to trust SWK and learn from him, because compassion, much like good intention, doesn't solve problems on its own, and mercy is not the same as enabling harm.

SWK needs his master's guidance, because even at his most selfish and impulsive, he cares, and only by extending that care to others and accepting the vulnerability that comes with it can he truly mature and become awakened to the ultimate truth.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

One last bit of ramble: I feel like there is something to be said about Tripitaka's tendency to trust Pigsy, and how the pursuit of enlightenment is often derailed by worldly desires.

Unlike the demons they encountered, however, Pigsy is not the personification of mental obstacles that must be destroyed, because you cannot destroy bodily needs, nor the very human tendencies to slack off and avoid trouble.

You should stop listening to its advice, sure. Poke fun at it, absolutely. But what Pigsy represents is part of the human condition, just like every other pilgrim, and also something one must make peace with.

[gentleralts]

not to be a downer but while i agree with the sentiment of what the "death note AU where hbomberguy solves the kira case while investigating light yagami for something unrelated to the murders" post is trying to go for, it gets a bunch of stuff fundamentally wrong about light as a character and of how the death note itself works, and as a noted Light Yagami Hater™ i feel like i should set things straight here:

light was top of his class in high school and got into one of the most prestigious universities in his region. he does his research pretty thoroughly and would not even consider plagiarizing anything, especially with how unreliable it would make you look if you got caught. this "light would probably be a plagiarist if he was a youtuber" bit seems like it's there just because the james sommerton video is so fresh in our minds; if that post was drafted like a year ago there'd probably be a bit in there instead about light straight up lying about his accomplishments and how his mother is very proud

"light would have unhinged right-wing political takes if he was on youtube" there's a pretty significant possibility that he would, although not intentionally. light would brand himself as more of a center-left intellectual debater type and gets popular going up against people who are so right-wing that his points seem progressive by comparison (on top of him being conventionally attractive), and that would make stuff like his misogyny and pro-cop stances and "there are some types of people the world would be better off without" sentiments stand out when comparing him to more leftist youtubers. hbomb's initial investigation into light likely started out with the thesis of "light yagami can get away with saying shit like this because he's an extremely fuckable twink"

the thing about that post that stood out to me as its most egregious mistake though was the insistence of legal names being the ones you need to kill someone with the note. you've probably seen joke posts going around before like "if you write a trans person's deadname into the death note it kills you instead," and that's built upon one of the rules of the death note:

[id: The names you see with the eye power of a god of death are the names needed to kill that person. You will be able to see the names even if that person isn't registered in the family registration.]

a name doesn't have to be legally registered for it to work, and a legal name might not even work in some cases. granted a change of a legal name could still be a viable defensive strategy to throw off someone trying to research what your name is, but outright saying "i've legally changed my name to something you won't be able to find out so you can't kill me" will not protect you from the death note at all.

in my opinion, i believe the point in which hbomb spots the thread leading to his conclusion of light yagami being behind the kira murders is around the end of the yotsuba arc. he'd be able to intuit the first, second, and third kiras being separate entities by the types of people they kill, and the situation of "this guy i've been looking into has dropped off the face of the internet for like two months and the kira murders are suddenly different" would probably be too interesting of coincidence for him to ignore

[ronenrubinsteinthinker]

Watch 9-1-1: Lone Star's Tarlos fight over adopting Jonah: A 'strong friction point,' says showrunner 

Things are not all well in the house of Tarlos.

Last week’s 9-1-1: Lone Star saw TK end his birthday party early after his stepfather, Enzo was arrested for fraud and conspiracy. Now, TK is worried about what will happen to his young half-brother, Jonah, and — in a season 5, episode 8 discussing the possibility of adoption with Carlos does not go well.

Carlos feels like he's been working on being more present and not letting the search for his dad's murderer impact their relationship, but TK still feels there's "three people in this marriage": "You, me, and your father's killer."

co-showrunner Rashad Raisani tells EW.

As Carlos and TK got married, we were always looking for what are the deeper conflicts that they could have that would still allow them to love each other — so no cheating or anything like that They love each other. But in real relationships, even healthy ones, there are these really strong friction points.

Raisani continues.

For Carlos, it was always going to be his obsession with his dad's That is inevitably going to cause issues. And then with TK, going back to last season, he told Carlos that he really wanted to be a dad and Carlos said 'I'm not ready' and TK said that was okay. We didn't want TK to be a dick and bring that up again without a new circumstance, so we thought it would be great if we gave TK a new urgent situation, which is 'My baby brother is about to be cast to the wind if we don’t adopt him' and have that go right against Carlos going, 'But I'm right on the cusp of solving my father's murder and I don't have time for that.' So that kind of led to this conflict between them.

The desire to set up that conflict — and casting the "incredible and nuanced" Henry Ian Cusick — led the Lone Star team to tweaking their initial plan to introduce Enzo:

We always had this character in our minds, and we always knew he'd be wealthy and probably have some Bernie Madoff-style baggage, but we had first pictured him much more as a comedic foil for Owen who would be funny and zany," says Raisani. Then we started to realize there is a lot of real-life pain and love there with TK and Enzo, because this guy really, to be honest, probably had more to do with shaping TK into who he became as a grown man than Owen did," he adds. We realized we couldn't write him as a punchline because he meant a lot to TK. And so we thought this will be a great way to turn the corner from TK thinking of himself as a son to these two fathers and start to think of himself as a father. That's what got us here.

Article x

[y2ksnowglobe]

Dndads Dad characters and what I consider to be their most notable parenting crime

The amount of seriousness for any of these is highly variable

Barry: Using a giant hamster water bottle type thing to hydrate the soulless bodies of your grandkids. Bill: Not letting his son murder him. Cern: Getting your kids involved in the doomsday cult you're a member of. Darryl: Honestly? Being a slightly more boring version of my own dad. Frank: Not super canon, but like...he'd give the "Eat some peanut butter to stop being depressed" advice. Gartok: Enslaved his kids. Glenn: Pretended to not like minions with an intensity that it made him look really bad in court. Grant: Probably should have taken Lincoln to a therapist right after the cat incident. Henry: Seems to have forgotten he has a daughter. Jodie: Gave his child a flashbang. Lark(?): Didn't tell Normal about the bulletproofing in the mascot outfit. Poor kid was probably wondering why all the cheerleading moves were harder now. Marco: So unsure of himself that he's able to be convinced he signed a permission slip for his son to go to Seattle. Nicky: Suggests friend murder way too easily as a problem solving method. Ron: "Who's your daddy now?" Scam: Hermie is a teenager because that's the funniest age for him to be. Sparrow: Did not stop Normal from being Vinny the Vulture during a heatwave. Terry Jr.: Offered Scary some kale chips that one time. Willy: Honestly? It's the I have two fish and two plates...lemme just stack these plates together and eat both of the fish moment. That's just such an inexplicable, what the fuck? moment for me.

[raviolirash]

Gift.

Astarion struggles finding a gift for his love.

Astarion was a great charlatan. When it was time to put on a charade, he didn't have a humble bone in his body. Bragging about being the master of everything, how everything suits him, how he is a vampire of endless talents and beauty and clever words. How he's above everything, how flowers are overrated and never make good poisons.

He couldn't even pretend to be good at... this.

They all had some downtime in-between trying to solve a murder and taking down a tyrant, just every day things. Most scattered to explore the city for the remainder of the day. The Baldurians of their party sought out friends they wanted to say hello to before the city inevitably burns down again, the wizard was trying not to faint in the giant library, Halsin was probably feeding ducks to quell the stress this cursed stone city was choking his heart with, and Lae'Zel was most likely threatening a blacksmith and making him reconsider his career choice as he no longer sees the point.

Vėlė got dragged away by her old friend for a little while, to cause some unknown trouble with a few other drow they recognized in the city. It was never a good sign.

As for Astarion? Astarion was hiding in the shadows, counting the sweat beads on the merchant not too far away who has had to deal with the vampire's malice filled glare for the past hour. The malice wasn't aimed at the merchant, just at his own situation.

Romance didn't come easy to him. It all was quite new. He was worried that he'd overdo it, that he was very frightening. Worried that he didn't do enough. Worried that he couldn't do enough. Hells. After Cazador's defeat, the pit in his brain which used to house thoughts of vengeance had to be filled with something.

In turn, he subconsciously tried nothing. The problem at hand was that he actually wanted to try. Try something that involved more than him sitting with her and talking about how he has no idea what to do. He knew the basics of romance of course. Flowers. Dinners. Trips to faraway lands. A star in the sky to look at. A song in her heart. But none of those seemed right.

So, often he turned to what he knew best: being an asshole. And so he spent the time he was thinking about his problems getting on the salesman's nerves. He was an asshole, and he was the most comfortable being one. He could do that. Assholing was his comfort zone, an asshole was who he always was.

But was it who he wanted to be?

Maybe a little bit of an asshole, a little less than who he always was, but would that be enough? He knew Vėlė loved him, but how far would she put up with his nonsense before she snapped? He almost hit that limit the night before they killed Cazador.

His thoughts were heading into a very uncomfortable direction and he put a swift stop to it. He has gotten better at doing that.

Point was, he felt like he had to try, if this was going to work. After everything. Because no one knew when the world would end.

Astarion thought about her tattoos. Small birds and flowers were the most prominent subject. Surely something she allowed to become a permanent fixture on her skin was something she really liked. On the other hand, Karlach was inked with Zariel's name all over her body. Not to mention the markings on his own back. Vėlė has only talked fondly about her tattoos, how she got them to have control over herself, so there was that.

The gods wouldn't bless him with it being simple, and stopping at that. Every damned flower and every bird had a meaning, and there was the possibility of buying her a flower that represents a reminder of something awful the spider queen did to her. Or getting her a wooden bird symbolizing a creature which eats the heads off people happily in love.

Damn. He was stuck in the stupidest impasse.

He knew what she liked and didn't like, he knew what was on her body and what wasn't. What she would like and what she wouldn't for the most part. But the damn idea of a gift made him very awkward.

Before anyone could blink, he had pilfered a book from the flower merchant and went back to the bench to read it. A book about flowers and their meanings. Huh. Looks like the merchant was a bigger sham than he was.

He skimmed over it. Anything that resembled a sussur flower was a no-go. Most of the things in the book did sound like the author wanted to maximize their profits by making things up.

Oh, how cute would it be to just simply say 'I saw this, and thought of you'. Finding a rose in a blighted place and telling her what a rare and beautiful thing she was to find amongst darkness. He had to become a bloody scholar. Averting his eyes from the endless names of flowers in the book, Astarion saw the merchant panicking as he checked every pocket of his, frantically mumbling something about a book and missing coin. He grew increasingly more and more erratic for every second that passed, with it culminating in telling a customer to hold on a minute as he went out to find a Fist.

Astarion put the book behind his back with an inconspicuous whistle. Nothing to see here.

Although, he did find some relief and camaraderie in that the merchant was a fraud. None of this helped with his problem, however. He could steal something for her, maybe? No. A stolen chain with a pretty rock felt inadequate, and by the gods they had quite enough of that already. A custom piece of jewelry wouldn't get made before the city starts burning.

Astarion pulled out the dagger she made for him, using some magic that - truthfully - he wanted to know very little about. He knows what happens to pretty men who stick their noses in Drow magic.

Nevertheless, that dagger was the catalyst for this particular catastrophe going on. Flowers just wouldn't cut it compared to this. Compared to everything she has done, really. The glowing heart on the dagger left a lovely trail in the air when the threw up the dagger to catch it again with flawless technique, then letting it dance between his fingers.

Gods, please take pity on the fool who fell in love.

Calling defeat, he sought her out. The city will actually start burning prematurely without the two being there to guide the rest of the companions. Astarion found her in the Elfsong enjoying a meal, with the other patrons as far away from her as possible and a notable smell of blood in the air which explained some things. Even with Astarion out of the Elfsong's rotation, it wasn't free of creeps. Alan couldn't complain as she paid extra for the trouble.

"Hello, my love." Astarion watched her face light up at the words as he took a seat across from her. He tossed the stolen book on the table with exhausted abandon, unfortunately catching her attention with the thud.

"What's this?" Vėlė swallowed her food and wiped her hands on a cloth before inspecting it.

"Oh, just rotten fruit of a hard day's work." He complained. "I had to humble an absolute fraud. This city needs to have standards when it comes to swindlers, honestly."

With a disappointed sigh in himself, Astarion returned to playing with the dagger. He wondered if he threw it hard enough it could hit the ceiling. Just as he was getting ready for it, he got distracted by her voice

"Lily of The Valley. Apparently it means returning to happiness." Vėlė had the book right next to her arm, comparing the the illustrations of the flower in the book to the one on her arm. "So it doesn't mean 'Corellon has pissed in a garden', after all."

Astarion huffed: "I suspect that in Lolth-ian every flower has a name that loosely translates to 'the devil known as Coronal of Arvandor is pissing somewhere'."

He thought about it some more for a moment, as her laugh echoed through the tavern. A lovely sound he couldn't get enough of. He continued. "Don't you tell me that I am that far off the mark. I think I've heard some family of tulips translated as 'Defecating on The Seldarine's feet'."

"Hey, now. It's not all about Corellon." Vėlė giggled. "I also heard the Menzoberranzan commoners call roses 'The Goddess who is singing at the moon, and is also a whore'. Lolth's words, not mine."

Vėlė continued flipping through the book, always stopping to comment when she found a flower that was also tattooed on her, her smile growing with every new discovery, and sometimes sighing in contempt when the symbolism was inaccurate.

And all the rogue could do was smile back like a love sick fool.

[lunarleonardo]

Shuichi death loop fic??? Could I perhaps hear more??

Why of COURSE

While I was writing Impermanent Attachment, I had a lot more deaths planned for Shuichi and a class trial but thats not important. I enjoy when characters die in time loops because not only is it really jarring and hard to readjust right away, but also because it gives that character a new kind of relationship with death. Dying becomes a lot less scary if you know you're going to come back each time, doesnt it? Of course at some point that goes from being just. another thing that happens. back to being terrifying, because it becomes downright torturous to come back over and over and over again. Death is often seen as escape, so what happens when even thats taken away? O_o

Just like a time loop, I think a death loop can be defined in a lot of different ways. The type of death loop I have in mind is a sort of "no matter what you do, you will die" kind of loop. Instead of Shuichi stopping Kokichi from dying, he has to try to save himself.

Lets say the timeline diverges; someone kills Shuichi. Trigger the death loop! Shuichi's back, and he knows someone is going to kill him. So now he has to try to prevent that. In this fic he'd probably have that "falling piano" type of luck, since the point of a death loop is to yknow... die. Slip on a banana peel and hit your head just right. Fall down the stairs. Get hit by lightning. What do you mean we're indoors? That hasnt stopped it before. Buut but, at some point, he decides to just... kill his killer out of self defense. Problem solved, right? He may be a murderer but at least hes not going to di-

god damn it

You can see where im going with this right ?? It just turns into a huge downward spiral of Shuichi's morality and sanity. Let that boy be insane! Of course, since it's a LunarLeonardo fic, it'd have a... hopeful ending, at the very least. Hugs, anger, tears, yknow. The usual :∆

This is just a base idea tho :p I don't know if I'll actually write it. I have a LOT of ideas that I could write, but I won't write a fic if I can't think of an ending or if I know I'll lose interest. this stupid detective is in my mind always . help me

[lurkinglurkerwholurks]

For the Batfam fic writing prompt post: Any characters + pushing through exhaustion?

The air felt too full, still reverberating with the vestiges of Tim's final shout. The ringing made his ears hurt, the sound already fading but the heat behind it remained.

Yelling had been less of a choice and more of a need, a way to vent off the pressure into a little explosion instead of one that would level city blocks. It was too much of everything—the case, the squabble over the comms with Dick, the knocked-over Coke can, the gritty sensation behind his eyelids. Bruce had just been the tipping point. Tim knew he probably hadn't meant to sound so... so Bruce about asking for an update. But Tim got prickly over perceived disapproval in the best of times, and this was not that.

Tim sucked in ragged, heaving breaths, not sure if he wanted to yell again, or cry, or turn his back on Bruce entirely and pretend this had never happened. Please, he just wanted Bruce to forget this had ever happened.

You yelled at Bruce. For asking a question. For checking in on a case he's working on. He's going to bench you, and you'll deserve it. You should have figured this out by now, you stupid—

Tim's shoulders had scrunched up to his ears of their own accord, a habit he thought he'd left behind in middle school. He was an adult now, practically, but he felt like a squabbling kid, mouthing off for no reason.

Bruce was staring at him, but not in horror or confusion. Anger? It had to be anger. Tim had snapped at him for asking a question. Bruce had to be angry. Dick had been angry. Maybe Bruce hated him.

"Tim," Bruce said slowly, and made Tim want to wince. This was it. He was going to get fired. Kicked out. Sent away forever and ever. "When did you sleep last?"

Tim blinked. That was irrelevant. But Bruce not yelling back was such a relief that he choked down the sob building in the back of his throat and tried to think.

"Uh," he said as he dug the heel of his hand into one scratchy eye. "Dunno. It's Thursday?"

Bruce's face had a way of changing without changing at all. Like, if Tim snapped a photo of a second ago and now, they would look exactly the same, with grooves scored into Bruce's forehead and around a mouth set into a flat line. But they were different, the one sort of settling somehow into the other, the rise and fall of a determination made.

"You're done for tonight," Bruce said, not an order so much as a statement of fact.

"No!" Tim protested even as Bruce reached out and flipped off the computer monitor. "Bruce, I have to, the case, I told Dick—"

He had told Dick he'd solve it, had all but bit Nightwing's head off for questioning how long it was taking him. Dick would hate him forever if he failed. Or maybe he already hated him forever, the snot-nosed idiot Robin wannabe who couldn't even crack the string of murders before the killer struck again, and this was Tim's one chance to make it right, and—

Tim whup!ed in surprise as Bruce lifted him off his feet with a grunt, too startled but to hold rigid like a fainting goat as he was hefted bridal style. The slight huff out Bruce's nose was his only concession to the slipped disc from last month but Tim remembered and it made the panic rise again in his chest.

"Bruce," Tim tried protesting again, but it was like trying to beg with one of Gotham's famed gargoyles. They really were eerily similar.

"Dick signed off hours ago, and you should have, too," Bruce said, and the even-toned rebuke made the corners of Tim's eyes prick with tears. "Jason and Damian are taking over for now."

Great, great, so he WAS the weak link, then, and everybody knew it.

Bruce carried him up through the house, not slowing or faltering. Tim was too concerned with pushing his luck or tweaking Bruce's back to struggle too much. Besides, just the act of being still, without his focus held captive by case files and police reports, had let exhaustion seep into his bones like acid, eroding the marrow into brittle, bitter strips. He hurt, he realized, in every joint from his cricked neck to clenched fingers to aching ankles. How long had he sat hunched in that chair?

Tim expected Bruce to put him down at every step, or, failing the sensible release, to set Tim down in his own room and leave. Instead, Bruce bypassed Tim's bed entirely and went to the hammock suspended in the corner. He sat crossways, the wide, interwoven body of the hammock stretched to support Bruce from his head to the back of his knees, and Tim still held against his chest.

Bruce breathed, a low and soft pushed between his lips, and closed his eyes.

"Bruce?" Tim whispered, unsure of what exactly was happening. Or, more pressingly, "I don't know what the weight limit on this thing is."

Bruce just grunted, appearing already halfway to sleep himself.

Tim's chest still felt full of hot, prickly static, but maybe the tears running down the back of his throat would drown it out soon enough.

"No one hates you," Bruce said, seemingly psychic until Tim remembered it was one of the fears he had shouted out in the echoing pit of the Cave. "You'll feel better after you sleep."

He wouldn't. He wouldn't feel better until the case was closed, until people stopped dying, until he was sure Dick didn't hate him, Bruce didn't hate him—

Bruce didn't seem like he hated him. Tim sniffed as Bruce's chest rose and fell beneath him in deep, steady breaths.

The calloused base of Bruce's thumb rubbed slow circles into Tim's temple. "Sleep," Bruce said.

This time, Tim did as he was told.

[thursdaygrl]

i'm eager to get some more things going, so here's a muse specific wishlist of plots. i'll be crossing anything out that i don't wanna double up, just like and i'll come to plot with you!

aurelio — arranged marriage, possibly with the families being in the mafia for the drama of it. / normal people plot.

beatrice — dark academia gay obsession PLEASE, bonus for lili fcs but not necessary at all

crash — angsty opposites attract with someone far too good for him / vampire rockstar verse pls i need it badly, preferably against a human but i'd also take a witch.

cricket — rivals or enemies to lovers / the sneaky journalist being played by someone who is secretly writing a story about her/her family while getting close to her and the fallout of what happens when she finds out.

dawson — figure skater/hockey player im BEGGING you. / accidental pregnancy also.

ford — i have a starter up for this somewhere but i really would like to write him saving a muse from a serial killer/slasher and the two of them healing each other over time. also lowkey want an age gap he protests to cause lol.

grayson — best friend's girl cause i'm a sucker for it. he doesn't treat her right and he's sick of it. lots of drama ensues, preferably.

james — best friends to lovers, specifically with an unlikely friendship so preferably someone a lot girlier/soft.

letha — a little nathan/haley inspired thing, pls.

luther — weird strangers meeting on the road and there's a sudden spark, would absolutely prefer if she was a little crazy cause he'd be into that. could be just intense or a murder, we don't mind. / two members of a band that both write songs and clash cause the chemistry is off the charts, pls.

maren — college campus murder mystery solving aka one of my favourite genres. alternatively, college campus slasher.

moira — a journalist or detective she comes across working the same case in a small town, they clash and also probably bang cause that's fun.

river — something jess and rory inspired cause i'm a sucker for that and i want river against someone bookish and cute.

rory — i really want a girl who thinks she's straight to discover otherwise through rory mostly bc i think it'll be funny. rory will not be trying to romance her at first and she'll do a poor job of it but we'll get there.

sosie — i'd like to play her against someone who works for or with her father, e.g. campaign advisor, fellow politician, bodyguard etc, ya girl loves something forbidden. / cappie and rebecca from greek inspired.

six — sleeping with her boss's girl, 'nuff said / would love to play this little criminal against a successful woman, maybe a lawyer or something who she gets to dominate and help relax.

sully — roommates who cannot stand each other but… :) very much jess and nick from new girl inspired pls.

[screamingcrows]

Taking a break from the depressive boothill spiraling to instead bring some more lighthearted Dottore ones. I'd wager Dottore avoids food from Sumeru, at least the younger segments (think just been tossed from the Akademiya age). Based on Omega's attitude towards being in Sumeru and having seemingly no desire to interact with it more than possible, he probably still feels estranged. Now, if Omega is at the Prime of his life, I think it's fair to assume that he's mellowed out since his youth (practically everyone is more polarised, rash, and extreme in their actions during their youth, an inherent consequence of the timespan where our prefrontal cortex is remodelled. And from the way Webtorre acts with Krupp, his slipup of briefly wondering where he is even though he himself just executed him tells me that he most likely was prone to acting on a whim at that age. Yeah okay it's implied that Krupp has failed him before, but you cannot tell me Dottore couldn't have solved that situation with Diluc and Krupp without murdering his subordinate). If you hated a place and a culture, avoidance behavior is a pretty common next move right? Dottore is smart, he'd realise that just because something originates from a place or can be associated with another thing, they're not inherently connected. And he can enjoy one without the other. Maybe older versions really enjoy spicy cuisine? This was the long way to ask what people headcanon as being his food preference/favourite dish (dishes if you count one for each segment, I sure would)

[wowowwild]

"Maya, what are you- Franziska?"

"Franziska?"

"Miles Edgeworth!"

"Nick!"

"Miss Fey?"

"Phoenix Wright!"

"Alright, I think we've established who all is here, thanks.”

FranMaya has been secretly dating and WrightWorth is... They'll figure it out.

“Hey, uhh, so you’re going to be busy tonight, right?” “With the case? Yeah. Edgeworth is going to come over to help me, though,” He replied absentmindedly. “Oooh, Edgeworth? I’m almost sad I’ll have to miss it, but it’s probably good for you two to have some privacy.” “M-Maya! We’re not like that, and you know it. And where are you going?” “Unlike you, Nick, I don’t kiss and tell.” “You’re not even going on a date, are you? I bet you’re just going to convince Gumshoe to share what little noodles he subsists on.” “Hey, it’s your boyfriend who keeps cutting his salary, and if he wants to share noodles with me, then that’s his choice.” “You’re a leech.” “But you love me!” “Yeah, yeah. Now let me focus on this. If I can’t figure out where this case went wrong, my case will be ruined!” “Good luck with your nerd shit.”

This pleased Maya greatly.

MF: We’re on.

FvK: Are you certain?

MF: Absolutely. He is going to be soooo distracted he won't even notice. He also came to the conclusion that I'd be hanging out with Gumshoe which helps as long as they don't talk to each other.

FvK: He'd be hard pressed to speak with Scruffy on special noodle night. He will be eating microwave noodles that cost exactly $1.38 more and watching an old monster movie.

MF: He'll be hard pressed alright. It's also v cute that you know that.

FvK: It is not cute, it is impossible not to know when he so foolishly announces every single move he makes to the nearest set of ears. I do not, however, understand your first statement.

MF: I'll explain it later. See you tonight "at precisely 5:35 PM".

FvK: You shall.

Now the only thing left was to wait.

-

Maya was being ridiculous. Edgeworth was not his boyfriend. He totally could be if he wanted, but he clearly didn't want to. If Master of Logic Miles Edgeworth couldn't connect these dots, the world was doomed, therefore he totally knew and wasn't about that. Which was fine. He was still Phoenix's best friend and he wouldn't give that up for anything. But right now he had to focus on the case because once Edgeworth was there it was a 50/50 chance he wouldn't be able to think at all. If only he could figure out what was missing…

"Wright, honestly, you're going to make your back even worse leaning over like that." "Edgeworth! Uh, hey. I was just trying to figure out how this case is related to my current one, but I can't seem to get the pieces to fit." "You're hopeless." Edgeworth picked up the file and moved to the couch. "What are these notes? You think it was the same culprit?" Phoenix flopped down next to him. "Not the same, but related. I think this murder happened because that one wasn't properly solved." "I see… Assuming you're correct, do you think the victim in this case was the perpetrator in that one?" "Could be. I don't want to make too many assumptions up front and miss something." "Actually thinking things through for once? I'm impressed."

That smug grin sent butterflies to his stomach. What was he saying? Come on Phoenix, you can't lose it all yet!

"I always think things through, you just aren't privy to my grand plan." "Privy? I see that thesaurus I got you is going to good use." "Ugh," Phoenix grinned and playfully shoved him. "Now, Wright, if you continue your violent streak, you'll be the one who needs defending." "Would you defend me?" "I would tell Franziska to prosecute you and wait for the paperwork." "Aw, gee, Edgeworth, I didn't know you felt that way." Phoenix laughed. "Ahem, yes, well, I think right here needs more clarification, don't you?" Edgeworth turned so that Phoenix couldn’t see his face.

Right, too much, Phoenix. Keep it friendly but not too friendly. Edgeworth is doing you a courtesy by not calling you out.

"Yeah, I can't figure out what they were trying to hide." "Well let's think about what someone could gain and then follow to who that someone was."

They talked it over, pulled up more information, and plowed through any remaining questions fairly quickly.

“Wow, I’m feeling better about the case already.” “Aren’t you forgetting something vital?” “Hmm? Like what?” “Evidence, perhaps?” “Aw, you know me. I’ll scrounge up what I can and everything will fall into place when I get the culprit on the stand.” “Unless the culprit is the first witness, you’re going to have to actually put in some work to get them there.” “Sure, but I’ll find a way. And I do have some evidence, thanks. Making this case fit in was the last piece I needed. My client will be walking free soon enough.” “Don’t get too cocky now, Wright. You have an impressive record, I will admit, but feeling overconfident can make you miss even the most obvious of details.” “Trust me, I’m not overconfident. But if I went around lamenting how hard I’m going to fail, that wouldn’t exactly set me up for success either.” “I suppose not. What did you find, anyhow?” “You’re not going to believe what I found in the victim’s trash.” “The trash?!” “Not all of us have detectives on their side, you know. We’re lucky I was allowed to root around in there.” “I suppose…” “Now let me show you my case.”

-

Franziska von Karma was perfectly punctual as she was in all things. At exactly 5:35 PM she slipped through the door of Phoenix Wright’s foolish office and silently made her way to the back room Maya would be in. It was quiet with no sign of Phoenix Wright, but Maya had not said he had stepped out so she remained cautious.

Ever so quietly Franziska knocked on the door she knew Maya was behind. It opened softly revealing her date for the evening. This of course brought a smile to both of their faces. It was then that voices were heard coming from the kitchen area. Phoenix Wright had a guest. This must be why Maya said he would be distracted. As they moved to sneak out, however, they moved closer to the source and she began to feel that the second voice was very familiar…

She stopped in plain view of the kitchen, but their backs were turned to her. What in the world was her foolish brother doing there at this hour? Helping the foolish attorney with a foolish case? They had both taken off their suit jackets and rolled up their sleeves. How utterly foolish her brother was to be at this man’s beck and call but still refuse to announce his feelings.

Maya couldn’t help herself, Fran’s face seeing Edgeworth there was too much. A snicker or two made it out, catching Nick’s attention.

"Maya, what are you- Franziska?" "Franziska?" Edgeworth whipped his head around. "Miles Edgeworth!" "Nick!" Maya whined a bit at being caught. "Miss Fey?" "Phoenix Wright!" "Alright, I think we've established who all is here, thanks," Phoenix noted. “Miles Edgeworth, what are you doing here?!” “I could ask the same of you, Franziska.” He stood and took an awkward posture, suddenly unsure of himself. “I- well- I asked first!” “Wait, Maya, I thought you were hanging out with Gumshoe.” “Actually I said I don’t kiss and tell and you assumed some things I let you believe.”

Phoenix looked to Edgeworth incredulously.

“That is a strange thing to assume from the context.” “Well I didn’t think she had an actual date!” “What can I say, Fran and I just have it more together than you.” She gave each of them a meaningful look. “And what about you, little brother? Have you finally announced your feelings or are you foolishly clinging to your safe deniability?” “Come on, Fran, we’re gonna be late if we try to start that conversation now. Let them sort it out.” “Hmph. Our reservation has saved you this time, little brother. Let us away.” Franziska pivoted and offered her arm to Maya. “Away we shall.” Maya took her invitation with glee.

-

Miles Edgeworth regretted a lot of things in his life. Preserving his friendship with Phoenix Wright rather than admitting to romantic feelings was not one of them. Or so he told himself.

“Did you know they were dating?” “Hmm? No, I was not aware. Though that would explain where she disappears to whenever she’s here.”

Hopefully Wright wouldn’t ask for clarification as to what she was talking about.

“So, uh, you have feelings for someone?”

He jinxed it.

“I don’t know what she’s talking about. She seems to have gotten an idea into her head and you know as well as I, there is no dissuading her.” “Edgeworth… You don’t have to hide it from me. You know I’ll support you no matter what. I think it’s great you found somebody you like! You should go for it!”

If he was so supportive, then why did he sound so upset?

“It’s really neither here nor there. He’s not interested.” “Oh… I’m sorry. That really sucks.”

And yet he sounded more happy at that than his previous statement. Maybe he was nervous at the thought of being left behind? Larry only seemed to pop back up when he had been dumped, though Miles hoped Phoenix knew him better than that. Nothing would ever be more important to him than the bond they shared, even if years down the line someone else captured his heart. Which was unlikely, for the record.

“It’s really nothing to dwell on.” “I suppose. But just so you know, I think you’re a great guy, and you deserve someone who can give you everything you want. This guy is a total loser for not seeing that.”

Oh, the irony.

“For what it’s worth, I’m kind of in the same boat, so if you want to talk about it…” “Really?” He tried to hold back his shock a fraction of a second too late. Phoenix looked confused and responded slowly, as if he was piecing something together before he revealed who the true murderer was. “Yeah, actually. It’s uh, my guy’s not interested either. Which is totally fine! I love being friends with him, it just, uh, kind of sucks. But it’s fine! And I wouldn’t trade our friendship for anything.” “Your ‘guy’ is a ‘total loser’ as well, then.” “Ah, you think?” Phoenix chuckled. “I do. You are the best man I know, with more passion, determination, and heart than seems possible. Anyone who spends even a moment with you can see that.” “Oh… Say, Edgeworth…” “Yes, Wright?” “Uh, I mean… This is awkward. I’m just now getting the feeling that I might have been wrong about something.” “About your case.” Phoenix looked confused, as if he had entirely forgotten why Miles had come over in the first place. “No, not the case. Just an assumption I had made.” “You should know better to assume. Weren’t you just saying that earlier?” “In my defense, a significant amount of evidence pointed towards my assumption being correct, but I had failed to consider one unlikely option.” “Is that so? What conclusion have you come to now, then?”

It was bound to be profound and earth shattering, as all of Phoenix’s revelations tended to be.

“Am I your guy?” “W-what?!”

Damn that man and his brilliant mind. Miles should have kept his mouth shut.

“I am, aren’t I?”

Why did Phoenix seem so… excited?

“Please tell me if I’m right or not… Well, I’m always Wright, but-” “Yes, you are correct,” Miles cut him off to avoid hearing that joke for the millionth time. “Ok, so then I have a big question, what made you think I wasn’t interested?” “… What?” “I mean, I’m just wondering. Since you’re my guy, too.” “I’m- You- What?!” “Yeah, This whole time I thought you could tell so I figured you weren’t interested, but clearly I was wrong. About multiple things. But so were you, so you can’t make fun of me.”

That was a little bit too much. Though it did explain what Miles had picked up on earlier with Phoenix’s words not matching his emotions. And the more he thought about it, much of Miss Fey’s teasing could have been implying Phoenix had romantic feelings for him. And it wasn’t like that was all Miles had struggled to piece together when it came to Phoenix. Retroactively, this explained a lot.

“Wright.” “Edgeworth?” “You’re telling me… You’re telling me you have romantic feelings for me?” “Uh, yeah. A lot of feelings in general, but romantic ones are in there. And you?” “Yes. I also have those kinds of feelings for you.” “Great! … That feels like it was too easy. Like something dramatic should have happened. Do you think one of us is about to die?” Miles gave him an incredulous look. “What are you blathering on about?” Phoenix paused before breaking out into laughter. “Well I’m glad nothing’s changed!” “I wouldn’t say nothing,” Miles mumbled. “Oh, right. Can I kiss you?” “What?!” Miles felt a heart attack coming on. Maybe Wright had been… right. “Too soon, huh? That’s ok. I can wait.” “That reminds me, how long exactly have you felt this way?” “Oh, uh, haha…” Wright trailed off. “That’s actually kind of embarrassing. Um, you know how we knew each other for like, 4 months back then?” “Wright… You can’t be serious.” “I mean, that was just a silly childhood crush, but it was a really formative time for me. And when I saw you again in the paper… Crush renewed. Becoming a lawyer was probably 50% because of you and 50% to save you, so… yeah… And you?” “I’m… I’m afraid I can’t say quite the same, though I can’t deny those 4 months were formative for me as well. It wasn’t so immediate when I saw you again, either. It crept up on me… and then you did save me. And I couldn’t deny it any longer. Feelings for you had started to grow.” “Oh wow. So we’ve been kind of silly waiting around this whole time. No wonder Maya and Franziska are so annoyed with us all the time.” “Mm. That would be a fairly sound hypothesis. I think I would like to answer your question, now.” Miles could feel himself blush as he turned away, not quite confident to say what he wanted while looking Phoenix in the eye. “Huh? What question?” Idiot. “You can kiss me. Phoenix.” “O-oh. Ok! Yeah!”

-

Maya had a fantastic evening with her lovely girlfriend whom she adored. They had accidentally stayed at the restaurant until closing time, talking and laughing, trying to get as much time with each other as possible. She had figured Nick would be in bed by the time she got back since he was practically geriatric, but she was surprised to see the lights still on, and-

“Hey, isn’t that…” “My fool brother’s car?” “… How safe do you think it is to go up there?” “… You know my hotel room has a hot tub-” “Sold.”

[saintsenara]

there is so much new stuff on your blog that i need to catch up with omg and i swear i will get to it BUT. BUT FIRST. i have a question (which, funnily, is really relevant to my actual offline life rn): if tom riddle was a doctor, what specialty would he practice? [he gives me major neurosurgery vibes] and, more laterally, what do you think makes a good surgeon? as in, what kind of personality types fare the best in a surgical program?

now this is the sort of content i like to see!

while i can certainly see good old dr riddle [bmbch oxon] very much enjoying having a rummage around in a patient's cranium, he strikes me as someone who would prefer specialties on the medical, rather than surgical, spectrum - and, especially, would like specialties which require a lot of sifting through evidence and solving mysteries. he's clearly a puzzle girly [why else would he spend his teenage years coming up with anagrams of his own name?] and so i think he'd very much like the parts of his job which allowed him to spend half his time running a lot of invasive tests on people and the other half skulking in a lab getting an enormous amount of money to run research projects...

so he's applying for:

haematology

aka: staring at blood - which is right up his alley. his particular interest is coagulation disorders in pregnant women - and their contribution to these women dying in childbirth.

histopathology

aka: staring at slices of tissue. he's determined to find out whether or not the soul resides in the liver.

neuropathology

i think we can all picture him presiding over a collection of brains preserved in formalin. one of them is dumbledore's.

forensic pathology

cutting up corpses by order of the state? he's in! his team of graduate students have conned several million out of the wellcome trust and are spending it trying to reanimate their specimens.

forensic psychiatry

because while if you want to be a good psychiatrist you need an iron will and well-developed sense of empathy, if you want to be a bad one you need to be able to gaslight, gatekeep, and girlboss. and our tom's got that nailed...

now.

the above flippancy is about to make me look quite bad, because i am also a puzzle girly, and i like medicine precisely for the sort of mystery solving and research paper publishing it enables. but i'm not a mass-murderer, which i feel it's important to clarify...

i'm not a surgeon either - i didn't struggle with the gory bits of the work, i just didn't find any of the surgical specialties i shadowed during my training particularly compelling in re: that element of mystery.

while the reputation they sometimes have - especially on tv - for being scalpel-wielding jocks isn't accurate, it's certainly true that the defining trait you need as a surgeon is total, unshakeable conviction. in all medical specialities outside of emergency medicine you have the option to adopt a wait-and-see approach a lot of the time - but you do not have this option if you've got someone open on the table in front of you. you need to be enormously decisive, capable of tunnel-vision, incredibly good under pressure, and also a little bit arrogant - the only way you can get through the terror of knowing that you're responsible for slicing and dicing someone [particularly in specialties like neonatal surgery or neurosurgery] is to believe unquestioningly that you're going to smash it.

these are probably all traits you already possess - they're certainly something it benefits all doctors to have, in moderation - and they can also be learned and honed through practise, but they're going to be most crucial in surgery because - the vast majority of the time - your issue won't be working out what's wrong with a patient, it'll be pulling off the operation without a hitch.

surgeons still get to do academic work, clinical research and so on, but if you think you want to be a surgeon, you really have to like that slicing and dicing, in-and-out aspect of the work. if you can't see yourself performing thousands upon thousands of the same operation, it's not for you.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Personally, I think L would have solved this by simply not going to trial. Light has an unfortunate accident and is taken care of: why he didn't do this in canon then? How could L have won according to him, according to you? As DN is a world where SPN is real how could have L proved Light's guilt? L already knew Kira was Light and also showed he didn't care about following the law (heh) then why do you think he didn't kill Light? Was it an ego thing? Was proving to the others he was in the right and they believing him that much important to him? Near won because Light admitted he was Kira and the task force witnessed it, so was this what L would consider winning?

Anon's referring to this post.

Why Didn't L Do This?

He didn't get that far.

L had never satisfactorily proven to himself or the task force that Light Yagami was Kira. Even Misa was a bit up in the air as while they had evidence tying her to a second Kira, L never really got to satisfactorily prove that there in fact were ever two Kiras for all he theorized it, Misa never confessed even under over a month of torture followed by several months of incarceration, and until he had the notebook L had no theories for how Misa actually did it.

In L's eyes and everyone else's, he hasn't solved the case. He has a lot of hot takes, some hotter than others, but he hasn't solved it. And for L, from what we see of him and how he speaks about himself, it's all about solving the case in a way he'd found satisfactory.

What he had by the end of the Yotsuba Arc was a few key things. He has the murder weapon, which he did not have previously, as well as the existence of Shinigami which briefly terrifies him but then he gets over remarkably well. He also has this pesky and very tempting 13 day rule. If that rule is true, more so than any of these other 'rules' in the notebook, neither Light Yagami nor Misa Amane can possibly be Kira as they would have died in prison.

However, if L proves that rule is false, both Misa Amane and Light Yagami are back on the table as Kira. L can, in fact, start theorizing exactly how Misa and Light would have made their various kills, that Misa Amane had made the eye deal, so on and so forth.

However, the bait of the 13 day rule is that if false it still doesn't prove Light is Kira. It makes him possible to be Kira, but to an outside party, still no more likely than he was before all of this (which was not very likely at all). What it does is make Misa look much more suspect with the DNA evidence she'd already been arrested on.

Which was why Rem was forced into immediate action to murder L and all his people before the rule could be discovered as a fake.

In other words, L had a long fucking way to go regarding Light as the original 'Kira' and he knew it. This was just the first step in keeping Light as a primary suspect (and then uh getting killed by Rem because he put Misa in the hot seat).

The task force was willing to believe Misa was Kira, they were not at all seeing that Light Yagami was Kira or ever had been.

How Can L Prove Light's Guilt if the Supernatural Exists?

I assume the argument being that you can't prove that Kira isn't a cluster of supernatural hamsters.

I mean, this is just how the law works though, depends on the law system obviously but generally what you have to prove is that someone "beyond a reasonable doubt" committed the crime. Note the wording, beyond a reasonable doubt, for all that the existence of Shinigami is proven and L would have a hell of a time trying to argue that it's not some death god sitting up there and fucking about with people, he could in theory prove that either Light or Misa, beyond a reasonable doubt, are Kira based on the evidence collected.

It'd be hard, and he I don't think he had everything he needed by the time he died, but in theory it is possible.

Would L Have Been Satisfied with a Confession?

Probably.

Neither Light nor Misa ever gave him one and the point of the torture arc does seem to be to get them to admit something, no matter how invalid the questioning methods (in most modern courts of law, for obvious reasons, confession extracted via torture such as forced imprisonment, drug use, false execution, and all the methods L did in fact use in canon are not admissible).

If L didn't want a confession, or wouldn't be satisfied with one, there's little point in blindfolding Misa for over fifty days, drugging her, and asking "are you Kira?"

[missroserose]

13 books meme

@introvertia tagged me in this (thank you, lovely, you're such a positive influence on my reading consistency <3) So let's talk books!

1) The Last book I read:

The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell. Absolutely destroyed me—90's science fiction, examining the paradoxes of faith and the difficulties of cross-culture exploration, seasoned with a hefty dose of grief and frustrated desire. Might as well have been written for me.

2) A book I recommend:

The Wicked & The Divine, by Kieron Gillen and Jamie McKelvie. A sprawling examination of the celebrity-industrial complex, cultural and individual objectification, and the dark side of fandom culture. Well worth reading through in its entirety.

3) A book that I couldn’t put down:

Starling House, by Alix E. Harrow. I'm a sucker for a fierce and driven heroine who makes things happen by sheer force of will, despite the odds being against her. Between that and the deliciously spooky atmosphere, I adored this book.

4) A book I’ve read twice (or more):

<i>Good Omens</i>, by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. Hardly an original answer on this website, but it's a classic for a reason <3

5) A book on my TBR:

Victor Lavalle's The Changeling, thanks to @introvertia's recommendation. I know nothing about it but I'm looking forward to reading it!

6) A book I’ve put down:

The War of Art, by Steven Pressfield. I know that the accepted formula for self-help books is to present your one theory and explain why it solves every problem in the known universe, and I hate it, which is probably why I don't read a lot of self-help books. Needless to say, around the time this dude claimed that Hitler wouldn't have become a mass murderer if he'd followed the book's advice, I gave up in disgust.

7) A book on my wish list:

Honestly, I don't have many? I've been enjoying reading from the library, in part because my bedroom is already showing the strain of previous book-buying sprees.

8) A favorite book from childhood:

The Woman Who Rides Like a Man, by Tamora Pierce. I read the entire Alanna series numerous times but I think this was my favorite—I really loved seeing her come into her own independence and learn a new culture (and one that accepted her unusual gender presentation).

9) A book you would give to a friend:

Again, depends strongly on the friend...but I can think of more than a few who'd enjoy the old-school gothic fairytale setting and viciously driven heroine of A. G. Slatter's All the Murmuring Bones.

10) A book of Poetry or Lyrics you own:

Hm...does the script to Hedwig and the Angry Inch count?

11) A nonfiction book you own:

The Devil in the White City, by Erik Larson—they practically issue you a copy when you move to Chicago. (In fairness, it's a cracking read.)

12) What are you currently reading:

Skin Folk, a collection of short stories by Nalo Hopkinson. I'm also rereading (or re-listening to) Mike Carey's The Devil You Know, and enjoying it rather better this time around—I think the first time I tried it, almost ten years ago, I was expecting something more along the lines of The Dresden Files and wasn't quite old enough to appreciate the more emotionally battered and worn-down middle-aged protagonist. Now, being a decade older and having lived through a global pandemic and seen rather more of just how terrible people can be to each other...I think it's more my speed. And possibly good research for if I ever get my angel noir story off the ground.

13) What are you planning on reading next?

Definitely The Changeling.

Bonus Round Shelfie?

I'm at a library right now but I might add one later!

Tagging: @klove0511, @sirsparklepants, @emiliosandozsequence, @skybound2, @ihni, @callieb, @lord-angelfish, @redmyeyes, @misschinablue, and @sea-salted-wolverine—no pressure, obviously, but I'd be interested in your answers!