#i fear not for new but rather for history repeating itself

[queen-of-wisdom]

“Foreigners out!

Foreigners out!

Germany for the Germans;"

Cool and what am I then?

Just some clown with a red passport

And the fear

That you will the do

The Thing

The Thing that I told everyone that you wouldn't do again

The Thing you promised to never let happen again

The Thing that haunted us all

(Or did it not haunt you too? Did you ever cared? Did you ever feared that it would happen again?)

[maladaptivedaydreamsx]

How the Rhodolite princes would react to their firstborn/newborn

Rating: PG-13 (?) Ikepri itself contains a lot of mature themes however, as such, mdni 🔞

Warnings: Brief mentions of (past) character death, grief, pregnancy/childbirth themes (no actual birth depicted), gn but implied afab, & the usual tragic Ikepri cannon.

A/N: Tried to write how they'd hold their kid and what they were feeling when meeting them. Spoiler warnings for the Rhodolite princes routes, tried not to bring up anything major though (Luke's is probably the most spoilery?). Tried to keep the princes' spouses GN, though implied afab bc newborns. (One very brief mention of Belle, but mc/reader is not Emma.) Might eventually make pt2 with the others..? Please read the warnings and proceed only if comfortable! :)

(Apologies for anything that seems ooc, I haven't written much in awhile and this is my first piece for Ikepri! I'm more used to fics rather than hcs, but I tried my best! o7)

JIN 🦅

There's so much Jin can't help but worry about. His past, his future, his country... and now he's got not one but two loved ones he would do anything for. The little bundle of joy in his arms reminds him of the times when his younger brothers were born, and how cute they used to be (well, some of them, anyway). The bleary, garnet eyes trying to look into his own have him wondering.. is this how he looked to his dear mother? There's so much he cherishes, and so much he fears, but he won't let the history of Belle repeat itself. He'd fight the entire palace if he had to, but for right now, he'll settle for tackling pesky burps and dirty diapers. Jin coos at his baby, baritone voice suddenly startling the poor thing, and he can't help but pout. The baby in his arms continues to fuss, feeling hungry.

Jin pulls something out of his breast pocket, looking over at his spouse. "So.. how much longer until they can have lollipops?"

CHEVALIER 🐅

Chevalier would likely be a bit awed upon holding his firstborn, much like the quiet way he takes in Emma's precence. Chevalier is known to be awkward with his affections, as he's far from practiced, but it's been shown on several occasions how he tries to gently pet an animal that dares to come close, or how he clumsily takes care of his love when they're feeling under the weather. He may look fine on the outside, but he's actually quite hesitant, trying to sort things out logistically at first, before sort of just settling for standing there and holding his newborn with both arms. He stares down at their gentle features, taking in every detail, making sure they're comfortable and warm in their sleep.

Looking over at his beloved in all their tired glory, in his very own Chevalier-approved affection he says, "You did well, Simpleton." While he only speaks four words aloud, his faint smile speaks the thousands he didn't quite know how to express.

CLAVIS 🐆

"Dearie me," Clavis says, holding his newborn, full of wide-eyed excitement. "They look so much like you, I can see the bunny ears already."

Being someone who values life so dearly, bringing a new one into this world, with the love of his life no less, is enough to send Clavis' heart soaring into the stratosphere. He just can't help but want to drown them in affection, but they're so small and fragile, and Clavis knows better than to risk scaring them now. He's so, so gentle with his child, unconditional love flowing off him in waves as they bond quietly (please don't get used to this, it will not last), and looks upon their splotchy tufts of lilac hair. The Lelouch genes live on through yet another generation, he smiles to himself. Clavis slowly comes over to stand by his love, placing a gentle kiss on their head.

"You're so lucky to have such a wonderful husband like me. But I'm even luckier to have you both in my life."

LEON 🦁

The happiest day in Leon's life. Second only to your wedding. Scratch that, the wedding is second.. he thinks. He's a bit frazzled from work, labor stress, and all the chaos, cut the guy some slack. No one is immune to this sweet lion's charisma, not even a newborn. They can't help but stare at his flowy hair and bright eyes, like a cartoon character come to life right before their eyes. Leon gently caresses their neck, very lightly pressing a kiss into their soft kiss to their temple. What kind of person will they grow up to be? Will they eat as much as he does? Will they fall asleep when they read too? There's a lot that runs through his mind, but ultimately, he is hopes for them to be healthy, and live happily. This child is going to be absolutely spoiled (within reason), and always have someone in their corner, rooting for them and ready to help learn from their wrongs. For now, he can worry about righting their posture instead. He tries to hold them like he read (how his partner read) in the parenting books, supporting their necks and all. It was really hard to stay awake during those, but the excitement of fatherhood helped him push through, and he's going to put it all into practice now.

"When do we start working on the second one?" (If not for the literal newborn currently in his hands, he'd be busy dodging several pillows.)

YVES 🐈

There's a lot of suppressed guilt for his mother's death in mind, and so many worries for his darling's health before, during, and after. He's a bit scared to hold his newborn, for fear of his clumsiness and "bad luck". With some assurance, he finally takes hold of them, and he could not physically be more careful with his firstborn. Clear eyes like the sky blink sleepily up at him, and Yves is fighting back tears solely for fear of them landing on the baby and somehow hurting them. The smile on his face could split his cheeks if it got any wider. The baby falls asleep in its father's arms, and he even tries breathing softer so he won't wake them. He's just trying his best, please reassure this sweet cat, he means well. (And he absolutely lost the battle against those blasted tears anyway.)

"Thank you for loving me, and for bringing our child into the world with us. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

LICHT 🐺

(Twins having twins cliché may seem redundant, I made 'em different for each brother, pinky promise.)

Licht was blessed with not one but two bundles of joy. Beautiful twin boys, who had what looked to be his vibrant silver hair and his beloved's eyes. He couldn't help the memories that surged, of happier times, and the worst of times. He knew all too well just how ruthless the court could be, but he had a chance to make things different this time. Licht seriously considered building that house he'd once mentioned, and moving you all somewhere much more peaceful. One twin in his arms, one with their other parent, he feels all thought subside when the one he's holding tries to grab at his sleeve. Licht's now-famous smile blooms across his lips much the way the sun's rays appear over daybreak; subtle, then all at once. He takes a gloveless hand, letting their tiny hand hold onto his finger as best they can, eyes gleaming from the sight before him. Licht looks over in wonder at his spouse, only to find them already watching with a tired, quiet smile.

"Things won't be easy but.. I know we can handle anything. I adore you. And I adore them."

NOKTO 🦊

(Twins for both may seem redundant, but I changed things up drastically ok, we got this.)

Nokto wasn't entirely surprised to have twins, but he had also hoped luck would be in their corner in avoiding similar fates. Two little girls, jewel-like eyes like his, and his beloved's hair color (or so it appears, though it's hard to tell for sure with so little peach fuzz). Nokto sits at the edge of the bed, holding one newborn in his arm, and reaching his other hand out for the one in his love's arms. Aside from the memories of his own upbringing, he's now having Typical Girl Dad thoughts about how to keep them safe and teach them how to stay away from cooties (boys), among other things. With a soft sigh, he gently burps his newborn after she's done feeding, rocking her slowly as she tries to chew on her father's lucious locks. Laughter bubbles past his lips at her cute antics, and Nokto feels the stress fade away, even if just a little. His heart is still getting used to receiving love and believing in it, but it's grown enough by now to love his 3 new favorite people in the world.

"If they like my hair this much now, just wait till they start to grow their own."

LUKE 🐻

Luke could not be more the picture of a teddy bear than with his newborn all swaddled up and snuggled in with their giant of a dad. He can't help but wonder if his sister is watching over them, laying next to his spouse on the bed, their newborn but a tiny dot among the two full-grown humans taking up most of the space. He promises to be there for his child the way he never really had anyone, and hopes to live more in the present now, the stakes feeling higher than ever before. A whole new life, created on purpose, gently resting in one arm and atop his broad chest, nestled comfortably and trying to suck on their thumb. Luke holds his spouse's hand with his free one, squeezing it gently, looking into their eyes with the intensity of his own emeralds.

"Look at 'em.. they're so small. Just like you," he jokes before letting out a big yawn, "But sleepy, just like me."

All rights for the characters and original intellectual property belong to Cybird. My writing belongs to myself, Maladaptivedaydreamsx, and shall not be reproduced elsewhere without permission. Ok to translate as a reblog to this post. Ok to reblog, no permission required (for those who like to be safe and ask first, all's good little homies) 💜

If you enjoyed these, I might try to make a pt2 with the other characters soon? Likes and reblogs appreciated, thank you kindly for reading! If you have any hc's of your own, please feel free to respond with them, I'd love to hear what you all think! 😊❤️ (If you'd like to be put on a tag list for any future works, please reply, though it will be a general list for writings as I'm getting back into things slowly atm,, 🙏🏻)

Also, to the lovely person who sent this in likely about 2 years ago (after I'd stopped writing on here bc life happens) ... if you're still somewhere in the fandom and end up seeing this post, thank you for your patience, and for sending something in. I'm finally trying to combat the writer's block again! 🙌🏻

[h-worksrambles]

Sonic X Shadow Generations fascinates me. Because it feels like something I shouldn’t be excited for. And yet I absolutely am.

Don’t get me wrong. I love Sonic Generations. It’s my third favourite game in the series and my favourite 3D Sonic game (with Sonic Adventure 2 in a close second). I’m very happy to see it getting a re release to expose it to new audiences, and playing it in 4K60fps on my PS5 is a very enticing. Likewise, I really like Shadow as a character and I’m excited to play as him again.

And yet, his new bonus campaign promises to basically be a bunch of nostalgic pandering for Shadow the Hedgehog, a game which I consider to be, simply put, crap. It was boring, dull, colourless and embarrassing trend chasing. And pretty much everything I hated about it is on display in this trailer.

We’ve got gritty, grey cityscapes, we’ve got the rather blah alien villain, Black Doom returning, we’ve got the looming return of the series’…bafflingly executed lore. In a word, Shadow was a pretty much everything I didn’t want Sonic to be shoved into a blender. I’ve given my thoughts on revisiting past excesses and failures for the sake of nostalgia. I wrote a whole thing about Final Fantasy VII Rebirth and my fears that it would go overboard pandering to the 2000s spin offs (which I dislike a for lot of the same reasons as a lot of Sonic stuff from the mid 2000s). A faux attempt at maturity that sacrifices Sonic’s camp and colour, and lacks the writing competency to make its tone shift work is pretty much my worst case scenario for the series. And now we’re invoking that for nostalgia? Again, I should hate this.

So if I dislike Shadow the Hedgehog so much. If it really is so emblematic of Sonic’s worst excesses that I want it to leave behind in the 2000s…then why am I so damn hyped for this? Why am I not feeling the same dread as whenever VII Remake implicitly threatens to bring back Genesis?

I think it’s because of the specific relationship Sonic has had with its past for the last decade. So much of the stuff from that time period is material that Sega has seemed actively scared to touch again. Sometimes with good reason. But I think that’s why some material from that time has gained such a strong nostalgic cult following, and why they’re held up as such bastions of missed potential. There’s never been anything quite like Shadow or 06 since they came out with how safe Sega has subsequently played things. And in many respects, that’s a good thing. But I can see how it build a sense of mystique around them. It was kind of sad to see 2010s Sonic so…scared of itself. Terrified to invoke its own history but not really committed to a new direction either. And this is pretty much the exact opposite of that hesitancy.

Basically, the reason I react to seeing Westopolis or Black Doom with ‘holy shit let’s go!!!’ rather than ‘why, god, why?’ is because I genuinely never thought I would see them again after this long. It’s just exciting to see Sonic Team throw caution to the wind and embrace all the parts of their franchise. Even the parts I personally dislike. Plus, Sonic Generations is kind of the perfect game in which to reimagine that stuff and make it..actually good this time. This was the game that made Crisis City of all things into a banger level. The game that took Silver, one of the most notorious boss fights in the series, and gave him a kickass encounter.

If they can fix that, they can do anything.

Plus, the fact that the trailers already show all these trippy stage effects and anime af boss fights and set pieces tells me we’re not just gonna be running through the same drab washed out burning cities that made Shadow 2005 so boring. Again, there’s evidently an effort being made to rehabilitate and reimagine this stuff, not just repeat all the same mistakes. And that’s exciting.

So yeah, Sonic X Shadow Generations has somehow managed to get me genuinely excited for all the parts of the series I typically balk at. And that’s pretty impressive.

That said, if I see Mephiles again, I’m leaving.

[animefeminist]

Genre conventions and a gentle story of recovery in My New Boss is Goofy

Content warning: discussion of abusive relationships and workplace trauma

Minor spoilers for My New Boss is Goofy Episode 1 – 6

When you think of “mental health representation” a light-hearted slice-of-life series probably isn’t the first thing that comes to mind. It’s certainly not what I expected when I pressed play on a series called My New Boss is Goofy. Yet underpinning this fluffy office comedy is an earnest story of trauma and recovery. This being a fluffy comedy, there was a real risk that the protagonist’s trauma might be belittled by being filtered through the conventions of its genre—in other words, played off as a joke, treated as “no big deal,” or simply not addressed at all in favor of maintaining a comfy low-stakes vibe. Instead, the protagonist’s experience with an abusive workplace and the lingering physical and mental effects of this trauma are depicted with care and authenticity. As is the process by which the protagonist begins to heal now that he’s in a safe place—and now that he’s the main character in a sweet, low-stakes story where genre expectations basically guarantee he won’t get hurt again. Rather than ignoring or downplaying themes of trauma in favor of maintaining slice-of-life genre conventions, My New Boss is Goofy uses its positioning as a cozy slice-of-life story to tell a gentle, but still meaningful, story about mental health and healing.

The series follows 26-year-old Momose, who has just quit a horrible job with a boss that was verbally, physically, and emotionally abusive towards him. Anxiety racks Momose as he starts at a new workplace. Will his new manager beat him down in the same ways? The lingering stress of his past job and the fear that history will repeat itself is so bad it’s causing him stomach pains and he’s teetering on the knife-point of panic for most of the first episode. His new boss, however, is nothing like his old one: despite seeming very competent and serious, he’s an adorable airhead. This is the set-up for the comedy that is Momose’s new office life.

Read it at Anime Feminist!

[tau1tvec]

“The hands can tell a lot about a person’s life.”

Cradling his hand in both her hands, they felt as soft as he’d remember. Every single time he’d held them, in every single life he’d found her. Despite how hard she worked, or how difficult things were for her, these hands of hers remained a precious constant in his mind.

His hands however. The only constant in his mind whenever he looked at his own hands was the blood, dirt and sand which drenched them.

“I might need more hands then.”

Getting a giggle out of her, a cheap card table between them, jazz music played through an old Panasonic radio, a rather popular genre is these parts. The only thing lighting the garage they sat in, as the door was open to the humid swamp outside, were a few strands of string lights he put up for her some time ago, still struggling to find her step ladder in the mess of boxes she'd accumulated during her move in. Picking up his drink, a shot of rum at the bottom of a short cup, he finished it all off, and then gritted his teeth as it burned all the way down.

“What was I like…?”

This question would pop up every time without fail it seemed, but he never grew tired of it, or annoyed, only fascinated at the consistency of time. History repeated itself, in even the finest measures.

“Depends. Which one would you like to know about?”

Moving her index finger along the lines of his palm, she bit her lip, and tightened her eyelids giving his question some thought. Following the curves, and forks, splitting into new lines, new lives, she smirked. “The ones you remember fondly.”

Smiling, odd as those last words were, he looked down at his empty glass a second, then looked up at her again. “Trick question. They were all fond.”

“Oh?” Turning his hand around, still in her grip, she brought it closer to her lips to press a kiss upon his knuckles. “Were they so fond, why doesn’t it ever work out for us in the end?”

Looking her in her eyes, even if she didn’t find his own in return at that immediate second, he showed an emotion in them he didn’t often show. The reminder of her mortality, and his immortality. This curse brought him a kind of pain few things could in this world. “Because things only ever end for one of us,” he responded, and took control of his own hand again to touch her cheek with the tips of his fingers. “I watched you die a terrible death once, I won’t risk watching you die a terrible death again.”

Meeting his eyes at last, she leaned into his hand and closed her eyes if only for a brief second, as it caressed her cheek, as she spoke up again, "some things are worth living through, even if they bring us pain in the end."

Getting up, taking his hand in her hand once more, she held it up high as she circled the table to his side to sit down in his lap. His eyes followed her the entire way, a tireless fear of losing sight of her burned into habit. Much like her touch, and the sound of her breathing. She drew closer to him, and kissed him gently, then pulled away to look at him again.

“History only repeats if we aren't willing enough to change it.”

[noivoom]

MY GOD THE LAES EPISODE CRYING CRYING CRYING SO MANY THINGS

Earth is just so shaken, she says she’s okay right now but it’s clear she doesn’t quite know what to do about all of this, and I don’t think suddenly having a new body to really hit it home that she got destroyed is helping very much. I hope for her sake the new clothing and size adjustment features bring her some joy- y’know, soften the blow a bit, give her something to like about her new body. I also hope she acknowledges that she needs support right now, rather than brushing off her own feelings and continuing to try to be the others’ support like always. (Looks to me like her new model is based more on Ninja’s art of her, which is neat. Very pretty. Gotta admit though, I’m kinda sad her proportions were changed. I really liked how (for lack of a better word, forgive me) thick she was- it just made her look so soft and comfy to hug. Reminded me of my mum’s proportions, which probably influenced my opinion in that regard lol. Alas. Don’t get me wrong, I still like her new look very much, she looks like a cheerleader and it’s great, but still. Large Earth will always live on in my heart.)

Moon seems like he’s this close to just snapping. He just wants to protect his family but things just keep happening to them and he’s not able to do anything about it. Bloodmoon is in BIG trouble, I’ll bet. (For context, I wrote this before watching the TSAMS episode. Guess I was right.)

Lunar, oh honey- they feel so guilty about this, about not being able to help her. Just everything about their reaction, from their shocked silence over the phone to latching on to Earth the second they saw her, not even caring about the new look, just latching on and practically sobbing “I’m sorry.”

Sun just lowkey broke my heart. His tiny, quiet comment about the possibility of this being a different Earth- I can see why he’d be so worried about that, it’s exactly what happened to Moon, and Lunar to an extent. Earth looking different from how she used to would be far from reassuring in that regard, possibly even being the thing that made him think of the possibility in the first place. He was so scared he had to make sure, had to ask her if she still likes Barbie, one of the most constant parts of Earth, because he can’t go through that again. God, ALL of his siblings have died at some point, he’s lost them all in one way or another and now his fear of history repeating itself once again is rearing its ugly head and he’s scared and my heart is BREAKING GODDAMMIT ;-;

WHY MUST THIS FAMILY GO THROUGH SUCH HELL

I vote they have an off-screen movie night or something- all of them, Earth, Moon, Lunar, Sun, Monty, Solar, all just being together for a while doing something simple and easy. Let them just exist in the comfort of each other’s presences, give them some time to process that they’re all here, all alive, all safe for the moment. Let them switch off for a bit and reset their emotions before facing anything else. God knows they ALL need it.

[yaraaltrospace]

Idea: DEVILMAN painchild

After watching Devilman CRYBABY, and with influence from Madoka Magica's Rebellion, I had this idea. 

If you don’t agree with it for any reason, it’s okay. All I really wanted was that ONE incarnation of Devilman had a happier ending.

—-

Akira Fudo wakes up back to his usual self, Miki and his family and friends still exist, and no one seems to remember anything about the demons’ attacks, despite Akira being sure it all felt real. As he starts questioning if everything he lived as Devilman was indeed just a horrible nightmare, as him, Miki and Miko go home the same way they did, this time Akira stops Miki from taking a different path, attempting to come clean at least about his feelings; however, they’re interrupted by Miko’s finding of a famished, crying little girl, with an unusual resemblance to Ryo.

Ryo ends up passing by them anyway, nearly running over Miko; he seemingly doesn’t remember a thing despite asking Akira’s help as before. Akira initally refuses, justifying that the child needing help, but Ryo gives him the address in case he changes his mind, because he doesn’t trust anyone but him. As Akira and his friends take care of the little girl, who’s revealed to be amnesiac, they give her the name Ran (her only being able to remember the R from her name), and the Makimura family makes up their mind to adopt her, since as far as they know, there is no known evidence of her past life and family; Akira however cannot stop thinking about Ryo’s ask for help, even with his mind made up to not go; but as he considers the possibility of having time-traveled somehow, he reaches the conclusion that he could frustrate Ryo’s plans against the world. But to do that, he needs to become Devilman again.

And so he does exactly that, invading Sabbath just as chaos begin rising, and to Ryo's surprise. This time however, he takes Miki with him so she can witness everything with her own eyes.

This time Akira comed clean about becoming a Devilman and in some part, about that dream not being actually a dream, even if fearing she wouldn’t support him as she did before. But she does, especially after seeing the irrefutable evidence. Ryo is irritated that Akira is willing to rely his new identity on a human, but does get convinced, as Miki offers to help on Devilman’s ability training and promises to not let her parents know. Ryo also gets suspicious about Ran, who in human eyes seems the same size, but for others appears to be growing up really fast.

Seeing things not going to plan, especially before and after the Silene battle, where Miki sleeps together with Akira, under the demon's influence (multiple times in fact), and after Silene's defeat, accepts Akira's feelings for her, Ryo advance his plan, causing paranoia with demon footage. However, when Akira’s first targeted, Ran defends him and as she cries out for the mob to leave him alone, an telekinetic wave sends them all away, and Devilman carries her away, comforting his teary-eyed little sister while also pondering if she is a Devilmen herself. Also, Miki manages to spread footage of Akira/Devilman’s true colors around the media, undoing part of the damage Ryo caused and making Devilmen around the world to reveal themselves and come meet Akira.

Ran, Miki and the other Devilmen, including Miko, officially start an activist group in favor of the idea that demons can have human hearts, and surprisingly defending Ryo, using the story of him “being controlled by someone who wants merely chaos”; Akira however doesn't fully believe this ideal, still not willing to let history repeat itself. They do succeed in gathering followers, especially because of Devilman’s kindness shown in the footage; considering how many still rather believe in Ryo though, the world is torn apart by these opposite beliefs. In the moment Ryo's speech to ensue chaos arrive, his transmission is hacked by the activists, showing not just Akira as a good person, but also the others helping the community as Devilmen. As the group invades, Ryo is furious at Akira for "betraying him", but Ran calls him out, demanding that Satan reveals himself as the one "controlling this innocent man". Cornered by all sides, Ryo has a mental breakdown, claiming he knows what he's doing and that they cannot avoid "his revenge on God"; this alongside his sudden disappearance, proves to the crowd that Ryo Asuka is indeed Satan, or being controlled by it.

Later, while the parties look everywhere for Ryo, Akira talks to a stronger, more grown up Ran; he finally understands that indeed he time-traveled, but as a part of a looped reality.

One that always ends the same way: the world being destroyed, Akira dying by Satan's hands and the angels descending to restart everything, as a settled punishment by God himself.

However, Satan lost a part of himself on the last loop: one of his wings.

“An artifact from the past, which influences the future.”

Ran's formation caused a paradox, a breach on the time loop, that restarted the previous timeline/world to an extent.

Once finding this out, instead of pushing her away, Akira vows to protect her, understanding now the reason for her story about Ryo being controlled; SHE IS Ryo, the part of Satan that once was his friend, a version of him that remembers the loop and all they've been through the last time, and that cries for it.

When the crucified people are defended by Devilman, this time among the angry mob, the Devilmen reunite along with the humans who believe in him, and they stand with him, freeing the injured humans and leaving behind the silenced mob. Miki is attacked anyway by Wam; this time Ran, now having unlocked a big portion of her powers, stands between her and the mob, allowing her to meet Akira and flee. However, Ran can only fight for so long, giving Miko a way to escape and eventually being cornered and ripped to pieces by the mob, as Psycho Jenny watches from afar. However, as well as saddened for "the death of his best friend", Akira's glad that "his beacon of hope for humanity" is safe.

Alongside the Alliance of Devilmen, far away from the upcoming war, Miki and Akira get married, her revealing to be pregnant. Akira confronts Satan, revealing his knowledge of Ran being Ryo, not longer a part of him; to this, he reveals that after the mob attack, Satan asked Psycho Jenny to help him absorb Ran back into his body, and that all this effort to change things was useless; Akira however rebuffs that, that something HAS changed, even he doesn't see it. 

Devilman and Satan confront each other again, and demons and Devilmen fight, with more humans by Akira’s side, some praying for both their victory and "the soul of Ryo Asuka trapped in the middle of this battle". However, when Satan unleashes the attack that always kills Akira in the previous loops…

Akira wakes up back on Earth, with his body only having a small injury, but his legs still attached to his body; by his side, an unconscious, seemingly lifeless, Ryo. As he holds the body, and looks up to see the angels's descend interrupted, Akira starts understanding what happened: Ran was still conscious inside Satan, joining the prayers for Ryo's soul; so when Satan unleashed his attack, she made him take the blow instead of Akira, splitting Satan in half.

Akira cries for Ran/Ryo's sacrifice, thanking him for not letting his tears dry this once; as he sees the water levels lowering around the spot that stand in, Akira concludes God has given them a chance; as indifferent as Satan deemed him to be, even so, He allowed this world to exist. Akira then hears the calls of surviving Devilmen and humans, Miki among them, all coming in a boat. As he comes aboard with the lifeless body of Ryo Asuka, he prevents anyone to come near him, still shedding tears for his friend, saying that "he's free". 

However, as he looks down, he notices Ryo tearing up as well; Ran is officially Ryo now, living in his subconscience in Satan’s place… and providing him the human emotion Satan always seemed to forget, making him cry and outloud apologize for all he did, all the people who died and how the chaos he caused. He admits his feelings for Akira, his jealousy for Miki and how he hated himself; Akira comforts him, proclaiming no matter what happened in this future they gained, even if he's eventually judged by Satan's crimes against humanity, they’d always be friends, and he was sure of that now.

We have a timeskip to some more years into the future; Akira and Miki’s baby is born, a girl named Jun, who inherited some of Akira’s Devilman abilities (Devilman Lady, anyone?). Meanwhile, Ryo follows through with Ran’s story that he was “possessed by Satan“, and works to build and reform diplomatic alliances in this rebuilt world, as well as aiding in the construction of a “Devil nation”.

Deep into his subconscience, Ran talks with Psycho Jenny, and despite her arguments that her efforts were for none as Satan would still go through the loop, Ran points out all she did was to stop Ryo Asuka from being a part of Satan’s plans and God’s punishment, at least in ONE world; Jenny is free to go after Satan if she desires, but God had spared Ryo this once, and Ran will make sure to bear his sins with him, aiming her efforts to keep the one person Ryo and her love more than ever, Akira Fudo, happy in this world. 

She is a “Painchild”.

[fresiants]

Do you know any food Lily snape fanfics? The only one I’ve ever seen is if someone cared enough

I hope you like long fanfics cuz most of these are 300k+++ words. The longest one is like 800k i think?

The Peace Not Promised

His life had been a mockery to itself, as too his death it seemed. For what kind of twisted humour would force Severus Snape to relive his greatest regret? To return him to the point in his life when the only person that ever mattered in his life had already turned away.

A Dealer, Not A Death Eater

It should've been simple: Severus loves Lily, Lily loves Severus, and they live happily ever after - but their dreams are shattered when powerful anti-Muggleborn laws are introduced and Lily's promising career in the Ministry is ruined.

Unwilling to leave the magical world, disgraced brewer Severus struggles to keep them afloat - but when he uses the profits from his illegal potion deals to pay their rent, Lily's terrified that the aurors will swoop and send him to Azkaban.

Fearful of fending for herself in a hostile society, the pressure of being a second-class citizen pushes Lily towards the only people fighting for her rights: Severus' sworn enemies.

Severus, haunted by his Muggle upbringing, is determined not to let history repeat, but can the two of them succeed when the magical world is paved with danger - from the rich promises of Lucius Malfoy to the lure of the Death Eaters, and the ever-seductive call of the Dark Arts?

Come Once Again and Love Me

Severus wakes up in the afterlife expecting something rather different than being almost-seventeen again. But wait - Lily's come back, too - from 1981? Perhaps it's a second chance... but for what?

Severus Snape and the Art of War

After his death, Severus makes the decision to return to the world of the living, starting in the summer of 1975. With his adult knowledge on the upcoming war hidden inside his 15 year old body, he finds his way back to Lily, and his new position in the wizarding world.

The Road Not Taken

What could have happened between Lily and Severus if he had said the right thing outside the Gryffindor Common Room.

The Path Not Tread

Sometimes all that's needed for enormous differences is a small change, as small as the order of a few sentences in a heated fight. Lily Evans unconsciously makes one such change while arguing with her best friend, and the magnitude of consequences her actions cause hold the potential to reshape not only herself and the people around her, but their world's very future. A What-if AU that explores the questions of how much we know ourselves, how much we're truly influenced by our surroundings and how much we do so in turn, whether unexpected consequences arising from the choices we make are our responsibility, and ultimately, whether truth is truly an objective axiom of existence, or only what we make of it.

[yrys-copihwesfv]

failure; fear; guilt

Failure:

Sooo, Yrys has had a lot of moments that would count as failures but he generally doesn’t care. Like, he’ll pick himself up and carry on with the mentality of either “it doesn’t matter that I failed, it’s just important that I tried” OR “even if I failed, I learned or grew or somehow improved from the experience”

But then shit hits the fan and people start dying, and he’s not the WoL with all these fancy abilities, he’s just Some Guy with the Echo and he can’t do anything to stop these super powerful enemies from coming in and hurting people. And each time, a bigger enemy shows up and it goes from being a case of protecting a city to protecting a continent to protecting the world and he Can’t Do Anything. And I think every time someone dies, that becomes his new biggest failure because it means he hasn’t been able to improve from the last time. And he can usually move past failures but every time someone loses their life because he either wasn’t there or wasn’t good enough to save them, it stays with him, and then he just bottles it all up and keeps that facade of optimism up because if he tells anyone, he’s scared they’ll feel like they can’t rely on him anymore and that’ll just validate everything he’s been thinking already.

Fear:

On an existential-y level, he’s scared of not being needed, scared of letting people down, all that jazz. On a much more physical and present level, he’s terrified of large bodies of water. He grew up surrounded by forest and it was a long time before he saw the sea and just the sheer vastness freaks him out. He’s scared of how deep it can go and how quickly conditions can go from calm to dangerous. Whenever he has to go on a boat to get somewhere, he immediately goes below deck and stays there until it’s time to get off again. He’s also not a fan of swimming. He can tolerate swimming in lakes if necessary but he refuses to swim in the sea unless it is literally a case of life or death - and even then, it would have to be someone else’s life at risk, he would rather take his chances with whatever danger there is on land than go into the sea. He is very vocal about this fear. Put him near the sea and he instantly turns into a whiny toddler.

On a similar note, he’s not scared per se of wide open expanses but he’s not comfortable with them. Steppes or deserts or generally places where there’s no trees or dense foliage unnerve him, kind of like a liminal space, it just feels wrong.

Guilt:

Yrys is most guilty about not being dragged to the First. He couldn’t stop his friends going through traumas there and when they came back as changed people, he had a weird kind of survivor’s guilt that it wasn’t fair that he got spared that trauma. He spent a lot of time basically glued to Ryn (and to a lesser extent, A’linhbo) trying to make himself as useful as he could to make up for not being in the First. He was sort of coming to terms with it by the time everyone went to Ultima Thule and, yet again, he was rendered useless there and history basically repeated itself. He’s still trying to come to terms with everything that happened and how, yet again, he wasn’t able to share the burden and lighten it for his friends

[gaymergal]

:3 happy pride 🌈 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

I unintentionally came out to my older sister (again) by wearing a piece of clothing.

💚💜🤍 😂 she remains the best

(Story followed by small spiraling below the cut 😃👍🏾✨)

Forever ago when I was in high school, I was only out as gay at school with friends. And didn’t come out to family until later (Highschool for me was 2004-2008 Bush era. And though my family is and has been very liberal leaning, we were also raised catholic which definitely fueled my personal hesitation to come out at home. Spoilers alert when I told my mom it went hilariously well)

One day after school myself and a pair of friends were at the mall, and the three of us bought a three piece matching friendship necklace at Claire’s on clearance that said roughly Best (star charm), Friends(heart charm), Forever(rainbow charm)

(90% sure that was the breakdown important thing is my section of the necklace had a rainbow charm)

It was like the only rainbow thing I owned, and I would wear it sparingly cause wasn’t 100% out. I had left the necklace on at home and my sister immediately clocked it and pulled me aside and asked if I was gay.

It was a very brief side bar conversation, I was in the kitchen and she literally pulled me into another room and was like “u gay? Your wearing a rainbow necklace”

“Uh yeah”

“Ok cool”

I never did a big announcement to family. Starting with my sister (actually, one of my brothers might have been the first family to know followed then by my sister🤔)

I just told family in one on one conversations as it came up, and eventually even extended family just knew I was gay.

(When I told my mom, because of the way I nervously started the conversation, on the verge of tears saying “i have something important to tell you” she thought I was teen pregnant and when I said I was gay she was like that’s it? That’s fine!)

Anyway! In 2020 with the support of my wife I experimented with pronouns and found that in addition to she/her I really do vibe with he/him pronouns (🥰 I am both her wife and boyfriend and absolutely love being called either)

I really only use he/him privately online and at limited irl queer gatherings and haven’t explicitly told my family (There is a hesitation that family might not fully “get” use of he/him pronouns and for now I’d rather keep it away from them for the time being. At this point its less of a fear of rejection and more of a…I don’t know how that conversation is going to go, and that gives me anxiety to bring it up and start a conversation about it.)

We just had our local pride weekend and I was wearing a pair of black socks that had stripes of green purple white at the top of them 💚💜🤍 for genderqueer and did post a family picture of me my wife and our son at pride to FB (socks visible) not thinking anyone in my fam would clock it.

Got a text from my sister yesterday: “Random question. What are your pronouns?”

Which prompted a phone call (that went super well :3 🥰)

At first she thought they were non binary colors and googled to confirm, but saw that the colors didn’t match but “knew it meant something” and then asked my niece (gen z theater kiddo) what the those specific colors represented. (Lol like straight up queer pop quiz style “hey green white purple, what’s that flag? 🤣)

When the dreaded “what do you want me to use for you” came up (idk why so much anxious, it is very much use one or the other or a mix, i genuinely like and respond to both. the only strong feeling i have is please don’t directly ask me which to use, or why he/him in addition to she/her)

It was a very quick, “so i can still use she/her”

“Yep”

“You sure?”

“Yep”

“well if that changes, I’ll just keep an eye out for new colors”

“🥲💖” (which I found to be very sweet!)

On the one hand, part of me is like, ah history repeating itself, just tell family as it comes up.

But with Pride and (:3 my first!) Father’s day coming up I am tempted to make a FB post just to set the record straight on my pronouns but, (anxiety)

Its weird, like I don’t necessarily feel like I’m in the closet as much as I did with being gay in high school. I’m not afraid of someone finding out. I don’t think my pronouns are something that needs to be kept secret. If asked I am comfortable enough to respond to the question, but the thought of anoucing them publicly is just a big no-no. 🙃

😅 Anyway!

🥳 happy pride! ❤️🧡💛💚💜💙💖

💚🤍💜 treating myself to an early father’s day hair cut tomorrow ✌🏾 :3

[vxnillite]

is this hurt/comfort

maybe, but instead of a ship, it's my oc and their mother figure at work :D

i forgot how i format this stuff

Characters: Noah ©️ me, Nina Cortez ©️ @smoldoddles (the bestie ever)

Word count: 2436

set just a few days after the RDA left Pandora in the first movie when, I assume, those who stayed continued operation of Hell's Gate

Breakfast. Check.

Coffee. Check.

Daily avatar exercise. Check.

Morning routine check on the staff. Not quite.

Nina, back in her human self for now, breezed through the SciOps lab doors and made a beeline to one particular desk station. All of the owner's documents were cleanly and perfectly stacked, their pens neat in the pencil holder, but the thinnest layer of dust had made the desk its new home. Nina held the overlooking lamp and frowned when she felt it. Cold.

"Where's Noah," she asked, looking forlorn at the abandoned desk.

The scientist stationed opposite Noah looked up from her work. Usually quite cheerful, Angela answered without her signature smile to light her face up. "They haven't come in today, Dr. Cortez." She sighed heavily. "They didn't come back yesterday after lunch."

Nina recalled breakfast that morning. She'd reported to the mess hall a lot earlier than usual, but only because she woke up rather early that day. She, then, finished breakfast before the first wave of staff came in for their own, and since Noah was usually a late riser, Nina didn't expect to catch them at the mess hall. The decision to go on about her morning like usual suddenly felt like a crime, guilt and disappointment in herself crashing down on the doctor. The only relief she could afford herself at the moment was a quiet sigh.

Angela must've heard it though. "Well, it's not like we're keeping up attendance anymore, right, Doc?" She tilted her head as she cracked a half-smile. "I heard Noah fought alongside the Na'vi in the fight 3 days ago. They're probably just tired from that."

Nina thought it was a good point. She straightened herself up and said, "I'll go check on them."

"I hope they're just resting. Surely, they'd need as much of it as they can get." Angela replied. Her eyes fell on the empty desk across her before meeting Nina's gaze again. "Tell them I miss my desk neighbor, yeah?"

Nina smiled and nodded at her before turning on her heel and heading back out the door. Her route now would be short, just a few turns then down the elevator to the level below the labs where the SciOps living hubs stood, now far less occupied with just about half of the residents left. While that meant there was a shorter waiting time at the showers, the remaining staff of Hell's Gate were now at the phase of figuring out how to run the facility with less than half of its people left. As someone who was higher than most on the political hierarchy, Nina had become a supervising figure for the continuing operation of Hell's Gate, not just of the SciOps division. Part of the reason was her seniority, but another was her military experience, which made Nina the ideal person to also direct the SecOps division in the Colonel's absence. In turn, though, her schedule was almost still as packed as it was before the rebellion.

But Nina had finished her rounds on both SecOps and SciOps, and everything was more or less running perfectly. So now, Nina was going to attend to a more personal task, one that she was taking on as both Noah's senior and, more importantly, as their friend.

Nina knocked twice on the door of Noah's quarters. "Noah, it's Nina," she called out. "May I come in?"

No answer.

Fearing that history was repeating itself—this was only the 2nd time ever that Noah had disappeared from the labs—Nina pulled out a security card and tapped it on the scanner next to the door. The light changed from red to green.

That security card was such a handy tool that the security staff gave to her after her informal promotion to SecOps supervisor. Nina had used it to sneak into the pantry for a midnight snack once already. But while her use of it now was rather invasive at surface-level, Nina knew better than to let Noah lock themselves in their room to wallow and rot in self-pity, even in spite of recent events.

The last time Noah had shut the world out, it was because theirs had shattered. Now, it would seem that it was happening all over again.

But much to her surprise, then worry, Noah was not in their quarters. The bed was made but cold. It didn't seem like Noah had just gotten up and left for the showers or something. Nina surveyed the room more closely. A black oversized jacket, Kevin's, was hung over the desk chair. Noah's data pad was missing from its charging pod. Their boots were missing, too.

'Where could they be,' Nina thought worriedly. As she surveyed the room one last time, she briefly wondered if Noah had ever even been in this room since the rebellion. It seemed as such.

If that was the case, then waiting around for Noah to come back wasn't the best thing to do right now, Nina decided. So she left the room. The door somberly closed behind her. For a moment, she stood in the middle of the empty hallway in quiet thought.

While doing her rounds that morning, Nina had asked every person she could if they had seen Noah. Alas, her little investigation had been fruitless. More "I think I saw"s than "Yeah, they were here"s than she would have liked. Their own living quarters had been the last on her mental checklist, but now she was thinking they could be hiding out somewhere else. But Kevin's old room had long been occupied by a different person, so Noah couldn't have gone there. 

So maybe... it was a different soldier's room they were in.

Nina made a pitstop to the records office, where she found just one guy working on his computer. He was the only one from his department to defect.

"I'm a little busy right now," Alex hollered without looking up from the monitor. He seemed more stressed than mean, but there was a sprinkle of the latter.

Nina kept walking toward him. "Alex, I need a favor."

Alex stopped immediately. "Dr. Cortez," he stammered as he swiveled his chair in his direction, a crooked smile forced on his face, "I didn't know it was you. Um, what can I do for you?"

"Room assignments, you've got them, right?"

"Sure do."

"Great. I need Harper Zdinarsk's. SecOps."

Not a second was wasted as Alex pulled up a new window and rapidly typed the name into the search bar. When the results popped up, he read out the needed information, "Harper Zdinarsk. 129 in the SecOps wing."

"Was it ever accessed," Nina asked.

Alex scrolled down to the room access history section. He paled at what he saw. "Opened via DMT 2 days ago." His voice shook the tiniest bit as he added, "But this soldier is dead, one of the casualties from the fight."

Nina hummed. "Was her body found?"

"No, but we assumed she was dead because she wasn't with the people who went back to Earth." Alex swallowed nervously, his trembling hands glued to his desk made Nina pity the poor man. "Doc, are we being haunted?"

"Psh, of course not."

Satisfied with the information she got, Nina began walking back out of the room. Just as she had a foot out of the door, she looked back at Alex, smiling cheekily at the spooked man. "But if you hear something creepy, maybe just log that into the records~"

Nina spared herself a giggle at her own teasing before refocusing herself as she was a few paces down the hall. The SecOps living hubs were just around the corner, and as if Eywa herself had blessed Nina that day, Room 129 was just the 3rd door.

She knocked. "Noah, it's Nina. I'm coming in, okay?"

The steel door hissed open as Nina pocketed her security card. Then, once the door closed behind her, locking out the noise of Hell's Gate, she heard a voice she was sure did not belong to anyone currently in that dark, unlit room.

"Why are you filming me," Z asked, a laughter carrying her words from a distance. "Am I on the observation list today?"

Noah laughed as well, their voice louder. "Yeah, I'm filming a worrywart in her natural habitat, and she's once again worrying about if a blade of grass would strike and poison me. Oh, no," they dragged, "I got stung, ah!"

"Oh, whatever shall I do," Z replied with a playful, exaggerated eye roll. It was weird to see her not locked and loaded with her gun just dismissed to her side.

The camera wobbled as Noah groaned dramatically. "It hurts so bad, oh my god."

In a split-second, Z's carefree expression hardened and she approached Noah. The closer she got to the camera, the clearer the worry was on her features, furrowed brows, a stiff frown, but a contrasting softness in her eyes. "Hey, wait, are you serious right now?"

The camera stopped shaking and Noah responded in a monotone voice, "Nah."

Z clicked her tongue, and Noah laughed again. Nina found herself infected by the cheerfulness of the avatar behind the camera, so did Z, it seemed.

Then, the video ended.

The light was now open. Noah, the one who was sitting on the edge of Z's bed, hovered their finger over the play button. Their data pad laid on their lap, no doubt forcing them into a very uncomfortable position for their neck. Still, they were unmoving apart from the hand tautly fiddling with the hem of their oversized shirt. Stencil-printed letters on the left chest read "SecOps".

Beside them, Nina sat silently. The ache in her chest was growing close to unbearable. The sting in her eyes was demanding relief. But she kept herself together, observing Noah. Instead of the play button, their finger dragged the video track, stopping when the screen showed a clear shot of Z grinning at Noah in the video.

Silence. Unbreaking, unmoving silence as if the world itself had stopped. It would only continue if Noah pushed the play button.

They didn't.

Nina couldn't see Noah's face with all their hair covering them like a blanket, but their head never moved from its position looking directly down at the data pad. They stewed in the quiet for a few more seconds before Nina reached out with a gentle hand. When her hand had barely even grazed their back, Noah grabbed onto Nina, whose mind surged with worry as she held Noah's body, frail and trembling. Yet their hands clenched fistfuls of Nina's coat like they were holding on for dear life. The data pad slid onto the floor, but neither one cared.   

Noah crumbled into a state Nina had never seen them in before, crying their beaten, desperate heart out into her shoulder. No words were spoken, then again maybe they couldn't make it past the tears. But Nina felt all that grief, pain, brokenness. Soon enough, Noah's cries were pushing onto Nina's mind images of the people she herself had lost. Her own arms began to tremble, but her hold of Noah did not falter. Rather, she fastened her arms tighter around them and pulled them even deeper into her embrace.

"It's going to be okay, Noah," she said, her voice cracking under her own tears as she rubbed the young doctor's back while fighting back tears of her own. A sniffle escaped, though. "It's going to be okay."

More sobs. Some Noah choked on. Their tears, their mourning, their yearning. It all felt endless.

"Just let it all out."

Noah heaved. Whatever strength they had during the battle was gone. Now, they felt as fragile as a glass ball. The slightest hit would shatter them completely. But they managed a few words, "She's gone, Nina… It's all my fault…"

Nina pressed her cheek on Noah's head, caressing it gently. At that moment, with her eyes closed, she saw a familiar head of ginger hair. The grief almost knocked Nina over like a tidal wave. But she stayed strong for Noah. 

"Don't blame yourself. Please." Somehow, it felt as if she was talking to herself.

Noah shook their head, but anything they might've tried to say got caught up in their grief. Nina was all too familiar with how that felt like.

Metal clattered to the floor, interrupting the two as Noah flinched straight. They looked down at the fallen dog tags with a panic in their eyes as they reached down. But Nina saw clearly that they were not Z's tags that had fallen, and she swiped them away with her foot. Noah snapped their neck up at Nina, who shook her head.

"It's not hers."

Noah abruptly looked down on their lap, where Z's tags were, both clean as a whistle.

Then, Nina gently put her hand on Noah's. She smiled gently.

"When did you get them," she asked.

Noah answered slowly, "Before the celebration with the Omaticaya." They hung their head low. "I…snuck back out to the forest. I'm sorry."

Nina hushed their worries down. "Alex said they couldn't find Zdinarsk's…" She cleared her throat and spoke again with a firmer voice, "They couldn't find Zdinarsk."

Noah sniffled, then breathed out shakily. "I buried her." The tears started flooding their cheeks again. "I'm sorry. I didn't—I had to. I couldn't leave her there… I'm—"

"It's fine, Noah." Nina held both of their hands and squeezed them tightly. "I understand, and I promise I won't breathe a word to any soul about it."

"If Mo'at finds out—"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there."

Nina let go of Noah, but only to put Z's tags into their hands. She, then, balled their hands into fists over the metal before raising her hands to part Noah's hair, tucking as much of it behind their ears. In the bleak overhead light, the young scientist looked like a corpse. Nina tried not to frown, but she was only really concerned.

"I'll get you something to eat, okay?"

Noah nodded weakly. Nina got up, quickly peeling from the floor the dog tags that had fallen earlier. 

Once again, Nina stepped into the noisy hallway. The tags felt like blocks of lead on her conscience. She hoped Noah didn't see who it actually was on them. Briefly, she looked down at her hand. What stared back at her were a cold, lethal demeanor and the eyes of the man who let all hell break loose mere days ago. The eyes of the man she, fretfully, loved.

[guideoftime]

❛ the gods love to ██ with us  ❜

▴ — @mightiestbanana ;; Sheik & Kohga. Context: So from a general observation you seem to prefer AO.C for Kohga, so I tossed this in there (AKA before BOTW) and in Sheik's Sage of Shadows verse as well. Meaning, he's about 12000+ years old, has been in the Shadow Temple for far to fucking long and see far to much. And then got yanked out to be in another war. With that long explaination out of the way, Al, I give you an actual response compared to out shitposting the two of them have been doing. I hope you enjoy.

   IT’S A BIT LIKE BEING LOST. Like wandering around the Lost Woods without the music to guide you, that is what being in the future is like. Sheik, from what he gathered, from what he was told by Purah and Impa–is around twelve thousand years old. To imagine he had been the Sage of Shadows for that long is rather frightening and there is a good portion of time he can’t even remember. What’s worse, is when being out of the Temple, he seems to begin to forget his time spent in it. He can remember things before becoming the Sage easily, but his memories of being in the Temple get harder to recall. 

   Impa, the current one of this Era, the woman with long white hair and a bubbly personality, was very quick to take Sheik in. It was kind of her, she didn’t have to give the wayward Sheikah Sage a home, but she had. And they were just as quick to hand him a weapon and ask for his help. Hyrule, the Kingdom at a place of war, and this–it isn’t anything unusual. Isn’t anything new. Like the good Warrior he is too, Sheik easily falls to their command and fights. 

   This is easier anyway. To fight and not think. To push his thoughts far from his head to focus on the weapons, the harp, the monsters, the enemies, the bloodshed… all of it compared to what his head was taking in and understanding. 

   Then he met the Yiga.

   Master Kohga is what he calls himself, Yiga are what the Sheikah ‘traitors’ call themselves. More information given to him by Impa. They are, from what he is told, the Sheikah that refused to continue to hide who they are. History–all it does is repeat itself, is that it? The Sheikah, Hylia’s most devoted followers, constantly beaten down and diminished. 

   Not the enemy currently is what he is told, there is a lot to unpack with that, Sheik doesn’t pay it much mind. Kohga from what he has observed so far, doesn’t seem like a bad person. It’s interesting, the way he guides the Yiga who to Sheik seem more like a band of misfit teenagers who don’t know what they’re doing. With a weird obsession with bananas. If one more Yiga offers him a banana, Sheik is going to lose his mind. 

   They fight–really well. They fight almost like Sheik does and the comparison is one that actually had alarmed him at first. Sheik is better, but can that really be compared? They didn’t have the very extreme, strict and controlled, training regiment that his mother had shoved down his throat. They didn’t live seven years serving under Ganondorf. They didn’t nearly die repeatedly to that man. Sheik has far more experience than them, so he can’t hold it against them. 

   They are talented and have potential though. And that is as far of a thought as Sheik was giving their skill. 

   Sheik tries when he’s on a battlefield with them to keep an eye on them, to help them where needed, to make sure they’re safe. He would do it for anyone, but they seem so much younger despite the fact he can’t see their faces, and it makes him worry more. Regardless of the title they wear, a Sheikah is a Sheikah and they are an ally. So he worries, he wonders and as much as he hates it–the fact he can understand their ‘betrayal’ as the Sheikah calls it really presses down on his thoughts. Though he can’t agree with their methods, with the things he has been told, he can understand. Which might be the most dangerous thing. 

   Still. 

   You can’t fight fear with more fear. 

   His fierce attempt at keeping an eye on the Yiga does have a downside. The small distraction, no matter how much of one it is, and him trying to safeguard them ends up getting him hurt. The wounds are bad enough he has to find somewhere to try and patch himself up, somewhere out of the way. Which is how he ends up in a small cave, undoing the blood soaked wrappings around his chest, arms and fingers. The tips of his fingers are raw and open from repeatedly using the harp, the Goddess Harp itself is covered in blood. Sheik’s struggling and unbelievably tired. 

   The bandages are tossed to the side and as he reaches for his pouch to find some clean ones he spots the red figure moving in front of him. So used to watching the uniforms of the Yiga, he doesn’t flinch, but he is surprised to notice which Yiga it is. For the most part, he can never tell them apart, but Kohga is much different from the Blademasters and Footsoldiers. 

   He grabs his pouch and sets it in his lap to dig through for medical supplies. A potion, some bandages, he’s really just ignoring the large red man–till he speaks. 

   ❛ the gods love to ██ with us  ❜

   Sheik, who had really been ignoring everything really up until this point, pauses. He’s trying to really not think about it. About what it all means. Twelve thousand years old, an Kohga seems really older than he appears, doesn’t even seem to be mocking him with his words. A steady observation. Like he understands Sheik right now. 

   And that’s frightening. 

   He understands the Yiga, they understand him? 

   The struggle of being far too old, of living a war, of reliving his life a second time, of going to be a Sage because he just couldn’t breathe in his second life. Then, to be here, to see what has become of the Sheikah–in his time, Sheik had seen the reality of what a Sheikah slaughter looks like. Has seen the weight it put on his mother. Had seen, after she left, what it meant to be the only one left. 

   To be the Survivor of the Sheikah. 

   He has seen the hatred, the resentment, the cruelty and discrimination that the Hylians were capable of. He had thought, to some level, after Hyrule was saved it would change. Perhaps not in his lifetime, but later down. 

   But the cycle just REPEATS. 

   Like a broken piece of music, like a song that just continues to loop, like a dance that doesn’t end. It loops back around. Hyrule turns on them. Hyrule gets into danger. Hyrule looks to the people they ripped apart and destroyed and begs for help. Everything they fought for was pointless, everything his mother gave and sacrificed is laid in a trash bin. Everything Sheik SUFFERED THROUGH is burned, forgotten, empty. 

   The Sheikah made an oath to Hylia. They made a promise to her, to protect her descendents, to safeguard the legend of the Hero and the Triforce so that it’s never forgotten. They devoted themselves to that oath and have never strayed from it once. Not in Sheik’s lifetime, at the very least. Hylia is and always has been the single most important figure to the Sheikah, the one they turn to when things get bad, when they’re uncertain and need guidance. 

   Yet, there has been a thought in his head he’s tried so very hard to ignore. 

   A simple one. 

   Why? 

   After everything they have sacrificed, after everything they have given, after the lengths they have gone to in order to protect that oath, why do they still suffer? 

   ❛ the gods love to–  ❜

   Faith, belief, is that not all they ever have when things get so dark though? The belief that everything is by Hylia’s design means that things will turn out alright. That they’ll survive and be okay. 

   But is this surviving? 

   Sheik resents and loathes the title SURVIVOR OF THE SHEIKAH.

   The sound he makes with his spirling thoughts is humiliating. With this man so close to him there is nowhere he didn’t hear the choked back sob that stuttered from his chest, the tears that had fallen down his face. Quickly Sheik leaned forward and dropped his head into his hands. Hiding his face, hiding the ridiculous and useless tears. To fall so very hard in front of Kohga of all people is going to be something he’ll scream at himself over later. He fully expects the other to laugh, to mock him and those thoughts have him trying to curl in on himself tighter. 

   Give him five minutes alone and he’ll pick his harp back up to fight and crush the thoughts down.

[cosmicjoke]

Sorry for spamming this stupid post of mine.  I had to make a few edits to it, and I suppose, since it’s so long and overblown like all my posts, it’s best to make it a separate meta from my other about Nicki and Lestat.  Anyway, if you saw this before, sorry for the re-post.  If not, sorry for the obsessive compulsive posting in general about these books lately, lol.  I guess if there’s one good thing I can take away from the AMC show (other than enjoying it on its own merit), it’s that it got me interested in reading the books again.  I’m almost done with “The Vampire Lestat”, and once I am, I’ll be moving on to “The Tale of the Body Thief”!  I’m excited about it, as I’ve never read past “Queen of the Damned”.  And even though I know some people have said they don’t particularly like it, I’m looking forward to it anyway, and delving into more analysis if I find anything interesting to say.  My tastes seem to deviate a lot of the time anyway, and I end up really liking things most other people don’t, so we’ll see.  Anyway, enough rambling.

“I never revealed to him half of my powers, and with reason, because he shrank in guilt and self-loathing from using even half of his own.”

Another thing I wanted to talk about as I’ve gone along in my re-read of “The Vampire Lestat”, is related to what Lestat says here about Louis and being afraid to show him his vampiric powers, and how that relates back to his experience with Nicki.  

In addition to Lestat fearing, because of Louis’ obvious disgust with himself and what he is, that if he shows Louis his own abilities, Louis will feel similar disgust for him, a large part of Lestat’s reluctance to teach Louis more about his new found powers and what Louis can do with them is, I think, because of what happened with Nicki, and what Nicki blamed Lestat for, and accused him of.

Because Lestat, rather than allowing Nicki to sink into the mire of his own negative feelings regarding his abilities as a violinist, tried to lift him up out of it, tried to encourage him and make him believe in himself and his chances at success if he only kept at it.  He tried to make Nicki believe in the value of what he was doing, in the capacity his music had for creating good.  And Nicki ended up blaming this encouragement, this refusal on Lestat’s part to let him fail, to let him wallow in his own misery and self-destructiveness, and succumb to his negative self-image, for his going mad.  Nicki made Lestat believe that it was his fault, by trying to help him up out of the darkness, for his eventually falling to it.

And I can’t help but think that Lestat must have, once again, feared that history was repeating itself with Louis.  That he must have remembered what happened with Nicki.  How the last person he loved, whom he also tried to help through encouragement and support of his abilities and talent, ended up going insane and killing himself.  And so, seeing Louis’ “guilt and self-loathing” over his vampiric abilities and nature, Lestat had to have been reluctant to step in and encourage Louis to embrace them, or to teach Louis how to use them properly, terrified that doing so would lead Louis down the same path Nicki ended up on.  We see here again the damage wrought on Lestat by Nicki’s mad accusations and blame, the way they continued to have ramifications for Lestat decades, even centuries later.  And that’s truly tragic.

This also ties into another point I wanted to make about Louis, and how Louis’ self-denial in many ways ended up unintentionally hurting Lestat.  Lestat’s lack of forthcoming knowledge to both Louis and Claudia, and how that contributed to things eventually going bad between them, gets talked about a lot in this fandom, and rightfully so.  But I think, for every instant of unintentional abuse Lestat engages in with Louis and Claudia, Louis engaged in just as much with Lestat, in a different way.  Claudia’s abuse of Lestat and Louis was, by contrast I think, very much intentional, but that’s a different topic.

Another quote from Lestat sums it up well, when he said about Louis:

“His blindness to the motives or the suffering of others was as much a part of his charm as his soft unkempt black hair or the eternally troubled expression in his green eyes.”

Louis ends up blaming Lestat, and feeling resentment towards Lestat, for not teaching him about his abilities as a vampire, and indeed we see later, when he meets Armand, that he discovers for the first time his ability to scale sheer walls, for example.  Louis convinces himself that his lack of knowledge in this area is Lestat’s fault, but I think in reality, it has more to do with Louis’ own lack of self-belief, born out of his sense of guilt for choosing to become what he is.  

Lestat, after all, had no one to guide him.  Magnus left him on the very night he made him.  And yet, by the very next night, Lestat was already testing the limits of and discovering his abilities, experimenting by engaging in physical feats which would be impossible for a mortal being.  He discovered he could climb sheer walls on the second night of his immortality, something which took Louis 75 years to figure out.

Louis convinces himself that his ignorance regarding his abilities is Lestat’s fault, but if he’d really wanted to, Louis could have begun testing and discovering his abilities all on his own from the start.  He let his own sense of guilt and self-disgust keep him from it though, a kind of self-imposed punishment for what he was and what he chose to be, and in turn, though I don’t at all think Louis meant to, he ended up hurting Lestat by holding him accountable for it and using that as fuel for his own, growing resentment, feeding the turmoil and increasingly constant fighting between them.  

And I think this manifests again in Louis convincing himself that Lestat was somehow keeping both him and Claudia hostage, that he couldn’t leave Lestat because he didn’t know the extent of Lestat’s powers and that made escaping impossible.  But, again, just like Louis, if he’d really wanted to, could have discovered the extent of his vampiric abilities on his own, he could have similarly taken Claudia and left Lestat any time he really wanted, and I think he also knew, deep down, that Lestat wouldn’t have stopped either of them, that he never really would have been able to hurt either of them.

Rather, I think, Louis’ inability to leave Lestat was born out of a secret desire to stay with him.  

Lestat talks about Louis omitting from his interview with Daniel all the good things between them in the 65 years they had together.  How they used to walk and talk together, how they used to hunt the riverfront taverns arm in arm, how they would act out Shakespeare together for Claudia, or how Louis came to him at times in anxiety, begging Lestat not to leave him.  

Louis convinces himself that it was Lestat keeping him tied to him and New Orleans, but in reality, I think it was Louis himself.  And just like with denying himself his vampiric powers out of guilt, it was Louis’ sense of guilt in loving Lestat, I think, that made him believe what he did about being a hostage.  It was only after he and Claudia seemingly kill Lestat and flee to Europe that an even greater sense of guilt begins to eat Louis alive, and he’s forced to have to begin acknowledging his actual feelings for Lestat.  But only begin, as he’s still clearly in denial about them when he gives his interview to Daniel.

Claudia was the one who wanted to genuinely get away.  She wanted to be free of BOTH Lestat and Louis, having developed a genuine hatred for them both over her being turned at such a young age,  and doubtless she would have just upped and left on her own if she could have.  But she needed one of them to take care of her, and I think she knew Louis, deep down, didn’t really want to leave.  But she could sense the weakness in Louis born from his guilt.  She knew she could easily manipulate that guilt over loving Lestat, play on it and reinforce this coping mechanism, this idea in Louis that they were being held against their will by Lestat, and in turn convince him to stand by and do nothing while she murdered him.  For Claudia, going back to what I said about her abuse being, in contrast to Lestat’s and Louis’, very much intentional, when she tells Louis she’ll enjoy killing Lestat, I think she absolutely means it.  It’s icing on the cake to her, that for her plan to work, to really convince Louis to take her and leave, Lestat needs to be gone, because otherwise, Louis simply won’t go.  Again, not because he can’t, but because he really doesn’t want to.

Louis’ self-denial here, once again, and to much more devastating consequences, ends up hurting Lestat, nearly getting him killed, and plunging him into a state of degradation, desperation and isolation that would last for more than 120 years.

Going back to what Lestat says about Louis being blind to the motivations and the suffering of others, I don’t think Louis was at all aware how his own sense of guilt, and the self-denial born out of it, impacted Lestat.  

[theblackace]

2nd part of the backstory...

Ottawa was an entirely different beast.

That argument could be made for any Canadian city for an inexperienced kid from the U.S., but it wasn't just the city nor the country. The atmosphere of the team itself was different...and he liked it. Detroit felt like work, because of their history, which led to pressure and expectations. The Senators didn't, despite being a Canadian team and that carrying it's own set of expectations. He knew the team was rebuilding, which he figured was the reason he was brought in in the first place, but they didn't take themselves seriously all the time, which he found refreshing. Practice and skate sessions seemed a pleasant mixture of work and fun, and he was welcomed almost immediately rather than having the "awkward new kid" experience he expected. The coaches and players were excited to have him, he was excited to be given a legitimate shot at the NHL, and he was excited to see what the upcoming season would bring. On the other hand, he did feel like he was having to play catch-up, not because he wasn't a good player, but because he did not have the shared experiences the others had: national development teams, AHL experience including playoffs (he had a total of eight games with the Manitoba Moose in two seasons), and especially being drafted.

He finished pre-season with four goals and two assists, even getting a few fights under his belt. This seemed to garner approval from the team's captain, Brady Tkachuk, who banged his stick on the boards the loudest.

When head coach Jaques Martin called him into the office, he couldn't help but have that pang of dread, fearing a repeat of what has happened with the Red Wings. He took a seat, bracing himself for the worst, but hoping for the best.

"Needless to say, I've been very impressed with you, Devin. We don't usually see this level of play from undrafted talent, let alone with limited playing experience. There as no time with the US National Development Team listed in your file, nor any notable junior hockey experience. How'd you get to this point?"

"No, there wouldn't be, I reckon, but uh, I didn't start hockey until I was about 9 or 10. I feel in love with it after going to my local team's games. My junior experience was spent with the Hampton Roads Whalers, in the Chesapeake Bay Hockey League. Never did get up to the elite level, but after going undrafted, the Norfolk Admirals picked me up."

"Well it seems we've found a diamond in the rough, so to speak." Coach Martin cleared his throat and leaned forward, forearms resting on the desk, his fingers laced together. "I'm sure you'd agree your game needs work, but I don't see anything that warrants any sort of extended stint in a lower league. I'm willing to take the gamble and put you on the third line. You'll be on the wing until your face-off wins improve."

His eyes lit up, and he had to remind himself to be professional. "Thanks coach, that's greats news. I wholeheartedly appreciate the opportunity."

Afterwards, he met with the Senators' equipment manager to get his gear in order, mostly for a number change and to get his specifications on file. He put got a new helmet, but refrained from getting new skates or a new type of stick. A few days later, it was contract signing day. The Senators saw fit to offer him three years for $0.850 million, an offer that, per his agent, was unusual for an undrafted rookie. He had the biggest smile on his face for the photos. Finally, there was quick media availability.

"Devin, you went from being undrafted, through pre-season, and now making your NHL debut. What do you expect for this game?"

"I think it's gonna be a challenge, for sure, but I'm also just trying to enjoy it."

"For those who haven't followed your career, how would you describe yourself as a player?"

"Ha, well, as my fans in Norfolk will tell you, the hardware comes second to me. I'm looking to help the team win and play the game I love."

[ferminadaz]

Fiction is always what almost happened

She thought it was fear She was feeling.

Her hands trembled ever so slightly, nearly unnoticeable. Her cheeks were ablaze, She felt, as they always were whenever She found herself in a stressful situation. The adrenaline pulsed through Her whole body, She could feel it all over the place, shifting from the tips of Her fingers to Her chest, coursing through Her wildly beating heart, going down to Her legs, convulsing Her thigh muscles, shimmering down Her calves. And Her eyes would dart from side to side upon the immense feeling of distraught. As the horrible weight of worry settled in Her gut, sweat sparkled on Her upper lip and outlined Her hairline. 

It had to be fear She was feeling, there was no other logical explanation.

It was hard to describe Her story and how it escalated to this point. I think She didn’t even realize where it was going for the most part. Weeks ago, and oh how long it felt to Her now, She would’ve never guessed it would take such a turn. In the end, She was always logical - one can’t say She’d rather listen to Her brain than Her heart, so to say, but logical was always preferred over emotional. But does anyone really know where the line between logical and emotional actually resides? One can read it as an answer too, but not in Her case. It was a question that troubled Her ever since She could remember.

Do I go to the math competition or stay at home and take care of my ill mother? Do I tell the hurtful truth or the merciful lie? Do I give up my career to preserve my family or do I continue and become selfish? And finally: Do I distance myself from this intense maelstrom of intimacy or get what I actually want? 

I suppose the reason for Her troubled mind has always been a worry: that She’d hurt someone, She’d do something wrong, She’d lose, She’d lie, She’d fail, She’d get hurt.

Calculated is what She was. The pros and cons were Her binary system. After a while, as She began to mature, turning into an adult, far too worried and far too correct for a young one, She developed a new system, a leveled up form of Her original binary system of pros and cons. There were no good and bad features to Her decisions, there was merely a question: what would the consequences be? 

Poor Her, She didn’t know there was no way to calculate life. 

She should’ve known it wasn’t fear.

All the math failed Her. When they first grew apart (that’s how She’d describe it, but it was just a lover’s quarrel, anyone could see that), She genuinely thought for a while that this is it. She left, no words spoken, as if there’s never been anything between them. She forgot the long calls, the messages, the time spent together, the rollercoaster of emotional states their relationship took Her on this past year. She also forgot this one thing, so tragically that it would haunt Her for the rest of Her life: She forgot how alive She felt for the first time. Something was finally happening to Her, something new and different, something so profound that She was at a loss of words when She tried to describe it.

“It’s… I don’t know, intense? I feel pressured and relaxed at the same time, I don’t know what it is. I know I shouldn’t. He doesn’t feel the same. But there is something there or am I dreaming? I don’t know. It’s so confusing, I feel like I can’t describe it accurately or objectively. Maybe it’s a delusion, maybe I’m seeing something that’s not there but I still sense something more in it. Him. I’d never tell him. Part of me is petrified he’d reject it. Me, he’d reject me. I suppose I know that. We said ‘nothing physical’, we shook on it, I’ll respect that. I should. Do I have to? I do. Yes. I’ll spend the rest of my life in his shadow, but by his side.”

One could only watch history repeat itself. What a love story. 

Once, many years ago, there was a young woman, wild and full of ambition, so genuine, it was blinding. An older man, nearly fifteen years older, calm and pensive, took interest in her. It’s hard to judge what was going on in his heart, much less whatever took place in his mind, while she wore her heart on her sleeve. One was for sure though - they loved each other so tragically, it was tearing them apart. There were only two problems though - one they created on their own, fabricated as one’s self-image and the other was destiny, written in stone, inevitable. The destiny part was violent and kind: it brought them together, made her into his muse and him into her guide. They withstood the violence, but they took the kindness for granted, not knowing they loved on borrowed time. He would die before he’d turn forty. She’d love him for the rest of her much, much longer life. Not knowing this, they’d pull away from one another and return to each other over and over again, in a vicious spiral. They could’ve loved more, suffered more, laugh more, bleed more, die more - but together. 

These stories of great love with a happy ending couldn’t be further from the truth that life writes. Love doesn’t happen to us, we create it. It’s up to us, but we’re so stupid that we don’t even realize it.

She didn’t realize it too. In the end, She was too young. Merely nineteen. She didn’t know anything. 

And so She sat there, on a couch, a little intoxicated, on the night of destiny’s first intrusion. He brought a girl to his birthday party. She was pretty, smart, fun - the best one He ever brought along. She hated it. She was the only one for him, that’s how it played out in Her head. Suddenly, He appeared out of nowhere, with her in tow. Her heart stopped as He leaned it, reeking of alcohol and heavy-lidded and gave Her a kiss. Her eyes darted to the pretty, smart and fun girl standing behind Him, feeling victorious and embarrassed at the same time. When He leaned back, words rolled off His tongue, zero thought was visible on His forehead.

“I like you the most out of all the other girls anyway.”

How proud and certain She felt. He did feel the same. Sometime later He took Her hand and led Her out of the house, into the garden, saying He needs to tell Her something. Somebody called after Him and He responded, assuring Her He’ll be back right away. So She stood. And stood. And then stood some more. He didn’t come back. She hid behind the garage, bottle of beer held tightly in place between Her torso and thighs, as She sat on the ground with Her knees pushed to Her chest. The victory, the joy She felt just minutes ago were gone for good: this sense of emptiness started to fill out Her insides. 

Everytime they went anywhere together, She always hoped that this time would be the time something happened between them. It did, once. Last New Year's Eve, She asked Him if He’d kiss Her at midnight. And He agreed. They almost slept together that night. She didn’t remember much, She was as drunk as Him, She only remembered how slow the time went when they stood in the yard, kissing as if they had all the time in the world. (If you asked all the others that were there that night, they’d tell you that the two of them spent the majority of the night making out outside. Funny how it felt like nothing to them.) She only remembered when He asked, “what is your biggest fear?” in between the sloppy kisses. She had a hard time remembering Her whole answer, but one word did stay. Intimacy. And then She said no when He asked if She wanted to go upstairs. Later, only a few weeks since then, He told Her He was glad that they didn’t go all the way in the end. That’s why they shook on the “non-phsyical stuff” in their relationship couple months later. It was funny, how they sat by the river, listening to music and talking, agreeing on never sleeping together while declaring that they were soulmates.

And then it was settled. That’s what set the tone of their whole relationship, the velocity of Her growing emotions for Him, him pulling away romantically but growing more and more demanding in the context of Her heart. 

Full circle. The year went by and there She was, on the ground by the garage, wondering where to go from here. She was convinced He was made for Her and proportionately convinced He didn’t see Her the way She saw Him. That night was crucial, She did things She never thought She ever would, but now, looking at Her and all the decisions She ever made, it made perfect sense. At least in part. She meddled in His relationship with His new girl, made Her feel like shit. Such actions on Her part took Her by surprise and She couldn’t acknowledge it for years. The other part, not surprising even in the slightest, was Her surrender. She surrendered completely, gave up on the idea of ever being with Him, decided to leave Him for good, so He could be with her. She had no chance against her and She knew it. She did leave him, the next day, after they said their goodbyes, Him not remembering a thing and Her remembering everything, as if it became a permanent part of Her forever. 

So this is the end? The end. Alright. It pains me more than anything. Please, just be happy. (And it’s not an irony, I just want you to continue being happy.)

She heard He cried when She told Him it was over. It made Her feel happy, He cared. She disguised her behavior as a somewhat higher moral ground, as if She was mentoring Him to never take anything for granted. She was looking for any reason that would justify Her decision. That He needed a lesson, that He was too toxic for Her, that She didn’t want to be around someone like Him. 

The truth was there was nothing She wanted more but to be with Him. But as we established earlier, She’d always choose the masochistic decision if She thought it was the right one. The problem with this decision, though, was that She started to doubt it. She almost never doubted any of Her decisions. This one though, this one just never left the pit of Her stomach, there was no way She’d ever digest it fully. 

That’s why she now sat down to reflect on everything that transpired, to write it down, to make some sense of it. She hoped that if She was Herself from the outside, She’d understand better. Because now, now it was truly over, for good.

Maybe it really was fear She was feeling.

[cenobittten]

There's a lot floating around about new trial graded exercise 'treatments' for M.E and Long Covid floating around again. History is repeating itself.

Time after time, those in the chronic illness community have spoken about the harm 'pushing through' pain and fatigue can do to a sufferer of Post Exertional Malaise.

Yet, rather than being guided by mounting biomedical research that shows there is a biological reason behind these symptoms, medical practitioners are still holding on to the 'sufferers are just deconditioned' narrative.

Post-Exertional Malaise causes a sufferer a real disproportionate blowback if a sufferer goes 'past their limits'. This can not only create an increase in fatigue and symptoms in the short term - often for days after - it can permanently reduce your capabilities in the long term. The chronic illness community is packed full of horror stories about individuals who have taken part in exercise-based treatments (formal or informal) and have made themselves so sick, they are housebound and/or unable to take care of themselves. The worst affected are unable to get out of bed.

If you are still feeling fatigued after Covid or any other bout of illness, don't get persuaded into 'exercising to health'. Follow the advice of the chronic illness community and practice 'radical rest'. Break longer activities into manageable chunks and avoid exercising to exhaustion.

When I became chronically ill, I found this guide absolutely invaluable.

As COVID continues to make the rounds, I fear more will need this advice as time goes on :/