#i hope this sort of answered the question

[carneliancorax]

"I am no longer so alone in the world, for this afternoon, as I was wandering the mountains a safe distance from the village where I planned to covertly acquire supplies when darkness fell, I came across a young man seated upon a twisted tree root. He was writing in a small book, so deeply absorbed in this activity that I was able to creep quietly up to him from behind until I came close enough to distinguish the markings he made on the page. For a moment I was disappointed that I could not comprehend the symbols he so carefully penned, and then curiosity overwhelmed me. Not expecting any answer but a cry of terror like those that still rung in my ears at night, I asked him, 'What are you writing?'

"He startled but a little and as he turned around to look at me, my heart filled with dread.

" 'I do apologize,' the man said in German, responding to my query in the language that I asked it. He continued with somewhat clumsy syntax. 'How rude of me! I didn't notice you were there.'

"This man is the first person who has not reacted to the sight of me in fright or violence. He even gave me his name, and asked mine, though I have none to give. He explained to me that this was his journal, which he was writing in a sort of code called shorthand, which greatly shortens the time taken to from each word on the page. What an ingenious thing! I asked many questions and Jonathan answered them all in satisfactory detail, as though he actually enjoyed our conversation.

"As we talked the light faded, taking with it what meagre warmth reaches these mountains during the day.

" 'It has been such a pleasure to talk with you," said Jonathan, rising at last from the tree where we'd been sitting side by side. 'Shall we return to the village? You are from the village, are you not?'

" 'No.' I touched one of the scars on my fingers and winced though it did not hurt. 'They... would not be kind to me there.'

"Jonathan's brow furrowed. 'Then where do you live? They tell me it's many miles to the next village.'

" 'I live here,' I said. 'I live nowhere.'

" 'My goodness.' He looked distressed. 'All alone? That's no way to live!' After a moment his expression cleared, and he offered a hand to help me stand. 'Tomorrow morning I leave here on my way to call on a count for some business of his. You are clearly an intelligent man, and I would be sad never to speak to you again. How would you like to come with me?'

"I write this now in my best attempt at the shorthand Jonathan showed me. In the morning, once his carriage is out of sight of the village, I will join him and hope he will teach it to me so I can write it as neatly as he does.

"Perhaps I am not so irredeemably disgusting if such a kind and earnest man as he wishes for my company."

now that i think about it, jonathan harker would’ve been a great character in frankenstein. he’s so completely oblivious to dracula’s red flag parade that he’d probably completely avert the creature’s murderous rampage by accidentally befriending him after spending a page and a half writing about some weirdly tall homeless guy with daddy issues he ran into

[yellowbrokenblue]

Harry joins you in the hot tub…

Your brother brought his best friend on vacation, and you find yourselves stuck in a rather steamy situation.

cw: smut, cheating, degradation, semi public sex, harry and reader being a horny mess

kofi

You had no idea how your brother had managed to coax your parents into paying for his best friend, Harry, to come on vacation with your family, but somehow it had happened.

And it was killing you.

Harry was the sort of guy you only saw in movies. A perfectly chiseled jawline, brown locks you wanted to tangle your fingers in, and pink lips with a permanent smirk on them.

And what was even worse was that you were kept up at night with thought of him with your own fingers in your pussy.

It almost made you forget about your boyfriend, Brandon, who had conveniently had to attend a friends birthday party instead of his own girlfriend’s family vacation.

Everyone had been asleep for hours, but you had no chance of sleeping while dirty thoughts of Niall’s best friend kept circulating your thoughts- so you quickly changed into your bikini and made your way to the hot tub for a late night dip.

The water wasn’t as soothing as you’d hoped it to be, and instead the heat of the water had made you even more horny. Resisting the urge to dip your fingers below your bikini bottoms was killing you right now.

“Seems I wasn’t only one who wanted a dip in the hot tub tonight.”

Your head snapped upwards. Everyone was supposed to be asleep, you weren’t supposed to be hearing any voices at this time of night.

Especially not his voice.

“Harry.” You breathed.

“Mind if I join you?” He asked.

He was wearing only his swimming trunks, leaving his beautiful, tattooed chest on full display.

You caught yourself staring at him, and snapped your eyes away.

You don’t remember the last time you took a breath. You’d been holding it in as he stepped into the hot tub and settled himself directly opposite you, not breaking eye contact the whole time he got in.

“Why’s Brandon not here, then?”

You looked at him, confusion on your features as you listened to Harry spit out Brandon’s name with distaste.

“He couldn’t make it.”

Harry shook his head, frowning, “He’s a fucking prick, Y/N.”

You shrug.

“Oh well. I’m glad he’s not here. It’s kinda nice it just being me and you.” Harry said again.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Don’t you think?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You said quietly, “It is nice.”

You squeeze your thighs together. The effect Harry had on you right now simply by sitting opposite you without a shirt on was crazy.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Harry asked.

You bite your lip, unsure of what to say, and nod.

“I say we play a little game, hm? You seem tense, let’s lighten the mood.”

“Uhm, alright. What’s the game?”

Harry shrugged, “I get to answer any question, and you have to answer. Then you ask me a question, and I have to answer… And so on.”

You frown, “And what if I don’t want to answer?”

A smirk spread over his features.

“Then you gotta take an item of clothing off.”

A lump forms in your throat.

“We’re wearing swimsuits, Harry.” You said.

“I don’t have a problem as long as you don’t have a problem.” He said, “Do you? Do you have a problem?”

You shook your head.

“No problem.”

Harry grinned, “Good.” He said, “Let’s get started then, shall we?”

You nod.

God, he was so hot. Sitting there, staring at you with those eyes. You felt like you were going to sink to the bottom of the hot tub and never come back out.

“What’s your body count?” Harry asked.

You swallowed. You had expected the questions to make a sexual turn eventually, but not straight out on the first one.

“Three.” You said, not elaborating anymore.

“Now you ask me one.”

You thought for a second. If Harry wanted the questions to be about sex, you’d make them about sex.

“Where is the weirdest place you’ve had sex?”

You noticed Harry smirk, and he wasted no time answering the question.

“A girl sucked me off in a movie theatre one time, but the weirdest place I’ve fucked someone? I dunno, like, janitors closet in high school?”

“Movie theatre? Like during the movie, or in the bathroom?”

“During the movie. There wasn’t many people watching the film to be fair, but the movie was on.”

“You’re insane.”

“I know.”

How you fucking wished it had been you sucking Harry’s dick in a movie theatre.

“Okay. My turn.” Harry said, “Why are you happy that Brandon didn’t come on vacation?”

“What?” You asked, “Of course I’m not happy. I’m upset about it!”

You frown at Harry.

“Either you tell the truth, Y/N, or you take an item off. Your choice, sweetheart.”

You think for a moment. Neither options are particularly good ones.

“Okay. Fine. I’m happy he’s not here. I just like… Needed a break from his constant complaining and constant need to create an argument.”

“That’s everything?”

You nod.

“My turn.” You said.

You pause.

Nothing comes to mind at all.

“I can’t think of one.” You say.

“Do you want me to just go again?”

It’s almost as if your heart had stopped beating- you were barely able to process the words that Harry was saying.

“Was it you that I heard touching yourself in your bedroom last night?”

Your cheeks go pink. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

You swallow again, your heart racing.

“No answer?”

Harry smirks, sliding over to the other side of the hot tub, stopping in front of you.

“Sweetheart, you know the rules. If you don’t answer, that skimpy little bikini of yours has to come off.”

“I-”

You physically couldn’t get any words out of your mouth. Your thighs were pressed together as Harry stared hungrily at you.

He moved his hand closer and closer to the back of your neck where your bikini was tied, and in one swift movement, pulled the string of it, causing it to fall into the pool.

His eyes didn’t leave your breasts for what felt like forever. They were locked on your body, his eyes taking everything in.

“One point to me.” He said, “And I’m changing the fuckin’ rules. Only I get to ask questions now.”

You nod.

“Tell me who you were thinking of when you had your fingers in your own cunt last night, Y/N.” He said, his hands that had been placed on your hips moving closer to your panties, his fingers eventually dipping under the waistband, “Cause I sure as hell know it wasn’t Brandon.”

He spat out your boyfriend’s name like dirt on his shoe.

“Does he make you cum, Y/N? Does he make you cum with his tiny dick in your pussy? Does the make you feel good the way you know that I would make you feel good?”

Harry didn’t even wait for you to answer any of his questions. He ripped your panties down your legs, leaving you stark naked in the pool.

“Harry.” You say.

The pain between your legs was unmeasurable. You needed him so badly rignt now that it hurt.

“Tell me you want me, baby, and I’ll give you anything.”

“I want you, Harry.” You say.

“You can have me, babygirl. But first I want to see you touch yourself. Touch yourself the way I heard you last night.”

You wasted no time doing what he asked. The need to release the tension between your legs was so bad right now you’d do anything.

Your hand slipped between your legs and found your clit, rubbing fast circles, moaning out in pleasure.

“Dirty, dirty girl.” He said, “All this because you are so desperate to fuck me.”

“Please Harry. Please I need you.”

“That’s it, baby girl.” Harry said, palming his dick through his pants, “Beg for it. Beg for my cock, Y/N.”

You moan, your fingers still playing with your clit.

“Please Harry. Please give me your cock. I’m so desperate.”

He quickly changed the positions in you both were in, and had his shorts off his body and dangling over the edge of the tub in no time.

“That’s it.” He said, helping you straddle his lap, “You’re gonna take daddy’s cock like the pretty little whore you are.”

Daddy. You moan at his words.

He had hold of your hips, and you moaned as he pushed you onto his cock. Pushing his hips up so you took the whole length all at once.

“Such a tight cunt.” Harry groaned as his cock was pushed right inside of you.

You tried to grind against him, but he had hold of your hips so you couldn’t move.

“Stay still.” He instructed, “Play with those pretty tits and then I’ll let you move.”

You brought your hands to your breasts. You’d do anything for this man right now.

Harry moaned as he watched you push your tits together.

“Oh.” He moaned, “I’m gonna fuck those tits after this. Cum all over them.”

The feeling of his cock inside of you was already making you feral, but this was on another level.

“Please!” You say.

Harry seems to snap, and out of nowhere starts to move your hips, rocking you against him.

“Bounce for me.” He said. “Bounce on daddy’s cock.”

You moved your hips faster than you ever had before, moaning with each time you pushed your hips towards him, his cock filling you up more and more each time.

“Oh, Harry.”

Harry helps you moved faster and faster until you’re physically crying with how close you are to an orgasm.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” You cry out, your orgasm washing over you like a fucking tidal wave.

Your legs were trembling as Harry groaned, indicating he’d reached his own high, your body falling limp, resting against him.

“You’re never gonna fuck that Brandon loser again. You understand?” Harry said, through his own orgasm, “It’s my cock only from now on.”

[semperama]

Sentences on Saturday

I was tagged by @playinginthunderstorms! Thanks, friend!! Like all of us, I too am working on an 8x08 coda haha. This one dealing with The Will and inspired by this post by @livesbetweenpages.

“Hmm,” Eddie hums, noncommittal. He puts the remote down, giving up on the ruse. “So you like it?” he asks, as if Buck hasn’t already said as much. “You think I should do it?” Those are two very different questions. Buck scrubs his hands on his thighs and chooses to only answer the first one. “Yeah, man. It looks great. How close is it to your parents?” “Close enough,” Eddie says. He shrugs. “And also far enough.” Buck nods. He gets it. He hopes the first thing Eddie does is move Chris back in with him. But he doesn’t say it, because—because it’s not his place. Eddie knows the right thing to do. He’s Chris’s father, after all. “Hey, uh. By the way.” Buck’s been thinking about this, and he has to say it now, or it’ll explode out of him at a much worse time, in a much worse way. “Make sure you don’t forget to change your will again.” Eddie turns toward him, mouth quirked, brow furrowed, like Buck has just said something sort of silly. Like he’s talking about curses. “What?” “I mean. Like.” Buck twists his fingers together in his lap and looks down at them. “You need to change it so your parents will be his guardians, right? If something happens to you.” “What?” Eddie says again, and he doesn’t sound amused this time. When Buck looks up at him, his expression is—Buck hasn’t seen his face look like this before. That seems to be happening a lot lately.

Tagging @pikapitou, @buick118, @sonofatoasterwaffle, @standback

[gyubakeries]

𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | j.ww

a/n: i had a terrible nightmare, but it inspired this lmao. apologies if the plot seems weird, i just went with the flow. hope you like it! (p.s. took me just a week to write this bad boy, but trust, there's more angst on the way! itll take more time bcs im super busy but i promise im gonna deliver angst)

word count: 5k contents: dystopian au , kinda inspired by divergent too , wonwoo x afab!reader , doctor!wonwoo , reader is going to die , a little graphic at the end but for like 2 seconds , flashbacks , forbidden love , HEAVY angst , sad ending

[ present - 24th november, 2024 ]

"756, your three hours begin now," an automated voice booms through the speakers placed in your cell, reverberating through the small metal chamber you've been kept in for as long as you can remember.

the door to your cell slides open, allowing you your last bit of freedom, last few hours of life, before it was all going to be taken away from you.

hyejun, the girl who occupied the cell next to you, comes into view, her eyes already filled with tears. the two of you had become friends of some sort over the last twenty-one years of captivity. although, your friendship wasn't like the ones people wrote about in books or played out in movies.

the Misfits would never have the privilege of a real friendship.

you couldn't tell each other about childhood memories, dreams, goals, or regrets, because the last twenty-one years of your lives had been spent inside the same grey walls. you couldn't go shopping at the mall, or watch movies at the cinema, because you weren't allowed to leave the facility, no matter what.

yet, hyejun was the closest you'd ever have to a friend, which is why it hurt you to see her cry profusely.

"don't cry, you idiot," you laugh, trying your best to keep yourself calm and composed. nothing good ever came out of the both of you crying together. "don't act like you forgot that this would happen some day."

"it hurt less to pretend like it wasn't," hyejun sobs, hugging you tightly. "why did we have to turn out this way?"

you wish you could answer that question.

there wasn't really any research or accurate information on how the Misfits came to be. the only piece of information told to every Misfit child the day they turn three years old is that they didn't have a place in society.

and the next thing you know, you've been shipped off to a facility to spend the rest of your lives as outcasts; as children who were deprived of their life too quickly.

at least once during their twenty-one years in a prison, every Misfit has wondered how this system came to be. who was it that decided what the Misfits were? was there a war? or an uprising? why was it declared that upon turning twenty-four, every Misfit would be executed?

you had resigned to your fate a long time ago. somewhere between the age of five and eight, when you realized that this was your life—living locked up in the facility. it wasn't as restrictive as a prison, as you were allowed to spend time outside your cell for meals, showers, interacting with others, and visiting the in-house library, theater and much more. but you when you learnt that you were strictly denied any permission to leave the place where childhood innocence came to die—you had given up.

you stopped throwing tantrums and crying like all the other children. you stopped wanting to see the outside world again. you stopped trying to live your life. you stopped hoping. you stopped loving.

it was a cruel realization to come to at such a young age, but you never had a choice. your entire life had been decided for you, because of some goddamn reason no one knew, so you gave up on trying to fight the system.

which is why, on the day of your twenty-fourth birthday, when your last three hours on this earth were announced, there wasn't any dread or anxiety filling you. there wasn't any urge to resist and rebel against the oppression you've been subjected to.

you were just another number on the list, the seven hundred and fifty-sixth person to be killed this year.

one of the things you were thankful for was the painless death. back when you were thirteen, an old lady who worked at the facility as a cleaner had given into hyejun's incessant pleas to know how the executions occurred.

the lady had said, "it doesn't hurt at all. first, they inject you with some drug. then, you're taken into an empty white room. they have a machine in there, which i don't know much about, but in merely three minutes, you're gone."

hyejun had ended up in tears after she got to know, but all you could do was laugh to yourself. three years to live a normal life, three hours to spend before you die, and three minutes to completely wipe out your existence, as if you ever really mattered in the grand scheme of things.

ever since you came into the facility, you've seen countless people being escorted upstairs to meet their end. some scream and yell for mercy, some stab a knife into themselves before they die in a way they're not even aware of, and some people, like you, have this empty look in their eyes. they look like lifeless dolls being dragged to their doom, because anything worth living had already been snatched from their hands.

—

"one hour and fifteen minutes," hyejun whispers, looking at the timer on your wrist counting down your last few moments. "y/n, how am i going to live without you?"

"this isn't called life, junnie," you chuckle, the sound hollow and meaningless. "they should've just killed us before we were brought into this prison. this isn't a life worth living."

"how can you say that?" hyejun asks, and you look at her to gauge her expression. hyejun is one of the many people who still haven't accepted that their days are marked. she's one of the many people who hope that there is a second chance at life.

"i can say it because it's the truth," you sigh. "there's no point in grieving the loss of a life you never had."

hyejun falls silent, her expression distraught, and you feel bad for this being your last conversation with the one person you've spent your entire life with.

your heart softens just a little bit for the person who's shared this meaningless life with you, so you move closer to her on the single bed in your cell.

"i'm sorry, i guess i hadn't realized that you haven't accepted this fate like i have," you apologize, wrapping an arm around hyejun's shoulder to comfort her. "don't be too upset after i'm gone, okay? probably not the best source of motivation, but you'll just have two weeks to spend without me before..... you know." you trail off awkwardly.

"i know," hyejun nods, looking up at you. "promise me you'll find me wherever we end up once we're gone?"

"i promise," you smile, and it's probably the most genuine thing you've felt your entire life.

the two of you huddle closer, spending your last hour in silence.

the door to your cell remains open, which is why you aren't startled when two women, dressed in all-white clothing, appear at the door, one holding a glass of water, and the other a pill.

hyejun isn't as calm as you, and tears quickly spring to her eyes when she sees the two officials at the door. "y/n, it can't be-"

"764, please return to your assigned cell," one woman speaks, her tone cold and sterile, devoid of any emotion.

"i- please, just some more time, please," hyejun begs, her hands clinging onto yours, as if bargaining for more time would do anything to delay the consequence you were going to face.

"please return to your assigned cell," the woman repeats. "i will not hesitate to call security."

"junnie, go," you whisper, slowly freeing your hands from her grip. "i'll be fine, you'll be fine."

hyejun shakes her head, sobbing incessantly. "i'll miss you."

"i'll miss you too," you admit truthfully. "i'll wait for you, okay?"

hyejun nods, and after another threatening glare from the officials, she shares one last knowing look with you, and for a moment, you feel thankful for being loved by someone in this life, no matter how short or miserable it was.

hyejun goes back into her own cell, and you let your last ever interaction with her sink in.

"756, please take this pill, and then follow us upstairs," the second woman instructs, and you get off the bed to approach the women.

"happy birthday to me," you scoff to yourself, taking the pill and swallowing it down with the water.

as if some countdown has started, the two officials spring into action. each grab one arm of yours and escort you out of your room. out of the corner of your eye, you can see hyejun by her door, collapsed to the floor on her knees, sobbing and grieving the only real connection she had with anyone in this ruthless world.

you wish you could say the same, but it would be a lie.

because when you finally climb the last step, and the door to your death is opened in front of you, you find yourself looking into the chocolate-brown eyes you had foolishly let yourself fall into.

jeon wonwoo.

—

[ flashback - 28th october, 2022 ]

"i wasn't aware that you were allowed to be outside your cell past 11 p.m.," a deep voice speaks from behind you, and you nearly jump five feet into the air.

you turn to see a tall, bespectacled man standing in the kitchen, a white lab coat hanging off his broad shoulders.

he's a doctor.

"i-i'm so sorry," you gasp, realizing that you're in deep shit now. realistically, you knew that the only way you were going to leave this facility was when you died, but you had no idea what the protocol was for people who snuck out of their cells at midnight, which was against all the rules. "i just really needed some water and i didn't have any left in the cell and-"

but the doctor just smiles at you, his intimidating demeanour replaced by possibly the only smile you'll ever see that is so beautiful.

"it's alright, don't be scared," he assures you, in that rich, warm voice of his. "i'm doctor jeon. you are?"

"y/n," you reply, confused about the whole situation. were doctors supposed to be on a first-name basis with the Misfits? "i'm sorry if this sounds stupid, but are you supposed to be talking to me?"

a flicker of sadness appears in his eyes, and disappears just as quickly. "it's alright for me to talk to you. you do realize i am required to interact with everyone in this facility if they visit the infirmary, right? i'm a doctor, it's kinda my job."

your face burns with embarrassment. "sorry, that was a stupid question."

"no worries, y/n," doctor jeon laughs, seemingly endeared by your mini-meltdown. you had no idea why you were behaving this way. never in your life had you been this embarrassed or flustered around anyone. you've been living in a prison all your life, where showers are taken in communal bathrooms and privacy was a rare luxury. why did this man have to change that?

"i'm going to head back to my cell now," you clear your throat, eyes focused on the water bottle you had just filled for yourself.

"alright," doctor jeon nods. "goodnight, y/n."

you give him a nod in return, stiffly walking past him to tiptoe back to your cell. you catch a glance at his name-tag.

dr. jeon wonwoo.

the name stays on your mind for way longer than it should've.

—

[ present - 24th november, 2024 ]

"have you taken the prescribed pill?" wonwoo asks, his tone formal and cold, as if he's never seen you, never known of your existence.

you know that's far from the truth.

"yes, doctor," you reply promptly, attentively watching as wonwoo goes through a few files on his desk. you see his features harden for a second at the name you addressed him with, a giveaway of how much he hated it when you called him that.

"it'll take a minute for the pill to take effect," wonwoo says. "please head over to the chair."

you wordlessly move over to the black leather armchair in the room, sitting on it as instructed. the situation is built on similar circumstances from the past, but it feels so devastatingly unfamiliar and strange.

you don't know if it's the air-conditioner or the cold look in wonwoo's once-loving eyes that makes you shiver.

—

[ flashback - 24th november, 2022 ]

"i'll walk you to the infirmary," hyejun offers. the morning of your twenty-second birthday, you had woken up with a high fever. your body was so weak, you couldn't even move to get off the bed.

thankfully, despite the prison-like feel, the facility wasn't too restrictive with regards to the cell doors being locked, or neighbouring cellmates interacting, which is why hyejun could come into your cell and take you to the infirmary.

you're barely conscious when you enter. you can hear hyejun's muffled voice talking to the doctor on duty, explaining to them your condition, all while you struggle to stay standing upright.

soon, a familiar pair of glasses swim into your vision, strong arms lift you and place you on one of the beds, and a gentle touch on your forehead lulls you to sleep.

the name-tag catches your attention before your eyes close.

—

"doctor jeon?" you croak out, voice groggy with sleep. the doctor looks up from his desk to see you sitting up in bed, finally awake after being asleep for almost the entire day.

"ah, y/n, you're up," wonwoo smiles at you. "how are you feeling now?"

"the fever seems to be gone," you reply after a moment, feeling much better than earlier in the morning.

"that's good to hear," wonwoo nods. "your friend mentioned that it was your birthday today. happy birthday, y/n."

you sigh. "doctor, i appreciate your gesture, but having a birthday is hardly an occasion that calls for happiness, is it? birthdays are never happy for someone like me."

a similar flicker of sadness flashes in wonwoo's eyes, reminding you of the first encounter in the kitchen a month ago.

"i'm sorry, i should've known-"

"it's alright," you interrupt his apology. "at least the infirmary is a change of scenery. never had a birthday party in here before, doctor." you joke, because somehow, seeing a frown on wonwoo's face felt like it should be a crime for him to be anything but happy.

"call me wonwoo, please," he chuckles. "being called doctor by someone who's the same age feels a little embarrassing."

"we're the same age?" you question, sitting up a little straighter. "next thing you're going to tell me is that we have the same favorite color."

"i like blue," wonwoo says.

"me too!" you gasp, the both of you bursting into laughter instantly.

the infirmary was empty for the rest of the day, and the two of you filled it with laughter and stories. wonwoo gladly took the lead, telling you all about his life up until he was hired to work at the facility six months ago, and you listened eagerly. it felt like you lived life through his stories, and it stirred this dangerous feeling inside you.

you had found something that gave you hope, in a universe where hope never worked in your favor.

—

[ present - 24th november, 2024 ]

"details of subject 756. full name, lee y/n. sex, female. date of birth, 24th november 1999-"

wonwoo's voice reading out all your details, the only pieces of information that gave you any form of self-identity, was getting hard to listen to with no response.

"stop."

"756, not interrupting the procedure would be advised," wonwoo addresses you, not even looking your way, his eyes trained on the file in front of him.

"why are you treating me like you don't know who i am?" you ask him in a quiet voice. "as if we didn't spend almost two years together, in love-"

"756, no interruptions, please." wonwoo grits out, sounding just as hurt as you felt.

"you hated it when i called you doctor, and now you won't even call me by my name?" you scoff, and that seems to rouse a reaction out of wonwoo.

"you are nothing but a number on this long list of people that i have to kill," wonwoo seethes, leaving his desk to come stand in front of you. "this is our reality now, 756. whatever happened in those two years, it was a dream, a fantasy."

"our love wasn't real? the hope you gave me wasn't real?" you challenge, standing up from the armchair. "you promised me, every day, that you'd change this, that i wouldn't have to-"

"then you were stupid for believing me!" wonwoo yells, cutting you off. "you should've known that i was an idiot in love, that i would've promised you anything if it meant i could see you smile. if it meant i could see you live the last few years of your life happily."

—

[ flashback - 1st january, 2023 ]

soon after your twenty-second birthday, you had grown much closer to wonwoo. you'd visit the infirmary for no reason, just to spend hours with him, learning about how the outside world worked. there were afternoons where he'd show you pictures of mountains, oceans, parks, children, and animals that he'd taken. there were evenings where he'd sneak you into his quarters, where he'd read you a book, or turn on a random movie he thought you'd appreciate.

it started feeling less like a friendship, and more like love. the way his eyes would light up when you entered the infirmary to greet him good morning, the way his ears would turn red if any other staff at the facility would get close to figuring out his relationship with you, the way he'd hold your hand or run his fingers through your hair, and the way he'd smile at you, kissing your cheek as a goodnight before going back to his own quarters.

you knew you were foolish for falling in love with wonwoo, especially when you had such limited time to love him properly. so you began to distance yourself from him. you stopped visiting him, avoided his attempts to talk, and tried your best to forget him.

it didn't work.

it only ended up in you being dragged to the infirmary by hyejun, when you woke up on january 1st complaining of a terrible stomach ache.

it was wonwoo who took care of you then.

"you've been avoiding me," wonwoo says quietly, watching you take the medicine he gave you. "did i do something wrong?"

you stay silent, wondering if you should tell him the truth or keep it hidden.

"i've fallen in love with you."

the truth it is then.

wonwoo gapes at you, blinking repeatedly as he tries to process your words. after a minute, he regains his composure and says, "i love you too. now why were you ignoring me?"

he asked you to be his girlfriend three days later, and for the first time since you've entered the facility, your heart starts to long for more time.

—

[ present - 24th november, 2024]

"yeah, i was stupid," you laugh sadly. "i was stupid to believe that you'd actually do something to fight for us."

"and risk both our lives in the process?" wonwoo argues. "if anyone would've found out, we'd both be killed, and not the painless way."

"well, one of us is going to die anyways!" you raise your voice, the tears you've desperately held back finally spilling over. "why did you have to love me? why did you have to make me want to live? do you know how hard it is for your face to be the last thing i see before i die?"

"and you think that this is making me happy?" wonwoo says, anger, love, helplessness, all emotions bleeding into his voice. "i loved you too. heck, i still do, and even after you're gone, i'll-"

"just do it. do whatever you need to do to kill me," you stop him from finishing his sentence. five-year old you had promised to give into your fate no matter what happens. and even though seeing the only man you've loved about to end your life is breaking your heart into a million pieces, you wouldn't be alive for too long to feel that pain.

"no-" wonwoo shakes his head. "i was stupid. i should've done something sooner. i was scared and i'm sorry. i'll get you out."

—

[ flashback - 19th september, 2023 ]

"i'll get you out," wonwoo whispers into your ear. you've just pulled him into a hug before you go back into your cell for the night when the words are muttered into the skin of your neck. "i won't let you die, y/n. not like this."

"won, what are you saying?" you ask, pulling away to face him. "are you nuts?"

"i love you and i can't bear the thought of having to lose you," wonwoo breathes out, his voice sounding strained. "i can't lose you."

"wonwoo, this is the system," you scoff. "i can't not die, it's not possible."

"just trust me," wonwoo shakes his head. "i'll get you out."

you let yourself believe him.

—

[ present - 24th november, 2024 ]

"i'm not letting myself fall for empty promises anymore," your words ring out loud and clear. "just get this over with, doctor."

"y/n-"

"756. that's how you're instructed to address me, doctor," you correct him.

"i can't. i won't do this to you," wonwoo refuses, moving closer to stand in front of you and place his hands on your shoulders. "we can get out, y/n. please, let me try."

—

[ flashback - 19th september, 2024]

"there's no way out," wonwoo mutters, and you feel the hope building in your chest crumble to dust.

"what- what do you mean?" you stammer. "wonwoo, you said you'd find a way-"

"i couldn't," he sighs. "not with management breathing down my neck. they already suspect i'm in close contact with one of the Misfits, and i don't want to give them a reason to make your last few months any worse."

"did you even try?" your voice breaks, your hopes and dreams slowly getting crushed.

"i didn't," wonwoo replies hesitantly. "i'm being monitored, especially after the promotion-"

"promotion?"

"i've been assigned to the room upstairs."

the room upstairs. where every Misfit goes to die.

"you- you never told me about this," your voice is strangled, the weight of wonwoo's words pressing down on your chest like an invisible weight.

"that's because you had no business knowing about it," wonwoo snaps. "look, y/n, from now on, you and i are nothing but strangers. whatever we had between us, it has to end now."

—

[ present - 24th november, 2024 ]

"you ended things. we're strangers now," you remind wonwoo, and the tears finally escape his eyes. "you shouldn't care this much for strangers, doctor."

"y/n, i'm sorry," wonwoo chokes out, tears streaming down his face, and you belatedly realize that you’re crying too. with the back of your hand, you wipe away the unnecessary and immature tears. this was your fate.

“you didn’t try when you said you would, wonwoo,” you lower your gaze, staring at the floor. "there's no happy ending for us now. there never was."

"i know. i was an asshole for promising you something i couldn't give to you, but i know i'm going to spend the rest of my life regretting not helping you now," wonwoo argues. he holds your hands in his.

"please, y/n, give me another chance."

"you know what's funny, wonwoo?" you laugh bitterly, looking up at the man you will love till the moment you die. "at least you have a lifetime you can spend regretting. at least you have a lifetime to start afresh, find someone else, fall in love. i only had you. you were my world, and it hurt so much when you lied to me and showed me dreams i never should've seen."

"i only said all those things because i loved you then, and i love you now as well," wonwoo's voice is shaky now. he knows your time together is nearing to a close, and with every passing second, he dreads the passing of the remainder of his life without you. "i was foolish to promise you freedom, but it was only because i hated that look of hopelessness in your eyes. and you have all the right to blame me, but let me just try-"

"if you're so sure you can get me out now, why didn't you do it earlier?" you cut him off. "why now? right before i have to die?"

you see the look of guilt flash in wonwoo's eyes. your eyes fall to the white lab coat he's wearing, the symbol of the facility embroidered into the fabric, right above where his name-tag sits.

you raise your hand to brush your fingers against the only name you had desperately hoped to call out for the rest of your life.

you realize that while it was your fate was to die, wonwoo's fate was to live. the purpose of your life was to live twenty-four years on this miserable earth and then vanish, while wonwoo's role was to take your life.

no matter how realistic those two years felt, it was impossible for the two of you to be together. you were carrying out your meaningless life, and wonwoo was fulfilling his duty. a duty that never involved loving you or rescuing you.

the bitterness brewing in you for the last couple of months comes to a rest, because you understand.

"i don't blame you," you utter quietly, hands coming up to rest against wonwoo's chest. if you tried really hard, you could delude yourself into thinking that this was just another morning you would spend with wonwoo, in his embrace, living life as if you had the gift of endless time.

"you were scared too, weren't you?"

wonwoo's face crumbles. he leans forward into you, resting his head on your shoulder as his body shakes with the intensity of his cries.

you hold him tight, and you feel sorry for giving him this warmth and comfort right before you left his life forever.

"you should have never loved me," wonwoo sobs. "i thought i was making your last years something you wouldn't hate, but i just-"

"you made my last years the happiest i've ever been," you stop him. "i don't regret loving you wonwoo, not even for a second. and i'm sorry i was angry at you for not helping me get out. i was too blinded by betrayal to realize that it could cost your life too."

"it wouldn't have mattered if you got to live," wonwoo shakes his head.

"it would've, because i wouldn't have you to live my life with," you say softly. wonwoo pulls away from you. his eyes are red and puffy, and your heart aches with the urge to kiss him, one last time.

"i'm sorry," you whisper. "i'm sorry that we ended up this way. god, if i had it any other way, i would've done anything to grow old with you."

"i'm sorry too," wonwoo sniffles. "for not fighting enough for us."

"it can't be helped now," you smile sadly at him. "maybe in another universe, we get to travel the world with each other and do everything we couldn't do in this one."

"it's time to let go, wonwoo," you say, pressing one final kiss against his lips.

wonwoo inhales deeply after you back away from him. he walks back to the desk, takes out a syringe filled with a clear liquid with shaking hands and comes back to face you.

"i'll find you in every other universe, and i'll love you till the end of time," wonwoo looks into your eyes, and this one feels like a real promise.

"i know you will," you hold the wrist of the hand holding the syringe to steady it.

wonwoo presses the needle into the skin of your neck, the place where he had whispered a promise of a better life before, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

"it won't hurt at all," wonwoo whispers as an assurance, and his free hand holds yours tightly.

the needle breaks through skin, the liquid is injected, and your last three minutes begin.

you open your eyes, and nothing feels like it's changed, but then wonwoo approaches you with a black eye-mask.

"i don't want you to see what happens," he explains, and you nod to give him permission. he slips the fabric onto your head, and your vision is blocked.

the last thing you see is his name-tag.

you hear the turn of a door knob, the sound of a door creaking open, and wonwoo's last words to you.

"i love you."

you feel gentle hands guide you into the room just opened, a pair of lips pressing a kiss to your temple, the warmth of wonwoo leaving you.

you're alone.

you smell the sterile antiseptic used to clean the room, a vague burning scent, your impending death.

your time is nearly up.

you taste the salt of the last tears you'll ever shed, the sour flavor of tragic love, blood.

it's almost over.

and then, nothing. it's like your senses have stopped working all of a sudden, and you're in a vacuum.

your hands tug off the eye-mask, but you can't see anything either. you realize it's the effect of the injection.

and it's good that you can't see, hear, feel, smell, or taste anymore.

otherwise you'd see the transparent glass wall separating you from a sobbing wonwoo, hand trembling above the red button that brought about your end.

you'd hear the lasers in the room charging up.

you'd feel a scorching heat all over your skin.

you'd smell your flesh burning till you're reduced to ashes, meant to be swept off.

you'd taste the kiss of death.

the timer rings; three minutes are up.

dr. jeon wonwoo ticks 756 off his checklist.

- fin.

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[alexalikescgt]

For this question to be interesting, it kinda has to rely upon the type of dice rolls used in D&D. It has to be of the format:

Roll A D4's, B D6's, C D8's, D D10's, E D12's, and F D20's. Sum those all together. If the sum is greater than or equal to X, you pass.

Note that if we were allowed, in our procedure, to consider the dice individually and to reroll, we could emulate any probability (for example, by rolling a d10 and if it's 1->9 you utilize the first digit of the base 9 representation of the probability, and if it isn't you reroll and use the second digit, and so on.)

Under the restriction of no rerolling, there will always be 4^A * 6^B * 8^C * 10^D * 12^E * 20^F possible outcomes; meaning that we can only ever get perfect fractions with prime factors consisting of 2, 3, and 5.

With that recognition, answering the question if we were allowed to treat each dice separately (such as with a d66 table), again all outcomes would be trivial by just making a d4688 table or whatever until it splits perfectly. So the question is only interesting if it has to have no rerolling, and the check is only "sum is greater than or equal to X".

Now, I wrote a quick python program to check all combinations of up to 10 of each dice (so 100,000 combinations). This does agree with generally-proven's results, but I figured I should share the combinations it did find. Note that none of the optimal combinations for anything up to 100 used more than 5 of a dice, so I'd be surprised if with more dice you can obtain them.

These results are all sorted by the highest possible roll (so 5d4's is just as good as 1d20). Below the readmore is every nond4,6,8,10,20 up to 100. I have to say, I don't see *any* pattern, I hope somebody does!

1d6: 3 or better for 2/3 1d10: 3 or better for 4/5 1d10: 5 or better for 3/5

2d6, 1d8, 1d10: 12 or better for 8/9 1d4, 3d6: 11 or better for 7/9 No (4,5)/9

2d6: 4 or better for 11/12 1d4, 1d6: 6 or better for 7/12

4d4, 1d6, 1d8, 1d10: 17 or better for 14/15 4d4, 1d6, 1d8, 1d20: 21 or better for 13/15 No (4,11)/15 3d6, 3d10: 27 or better for 8/15

2d4: 3 or better for 15/16 2d4: 4 or better for 13/16 1d4, 1d8: 6 or better for 11/16 1d4, 1d8: 7 or better for 9/16

2d6, 1d10: 7 or better for 17/18 2d6: 6 or better for 13/18 2d6, 1d8: 11 or better for 11/18

1d4, 1d6: 3 or better for 23/24 1d6, 1d8: 6 or better for 19/24 No (7,17)/24 1d4, 1d6, 2d10: 17 or better for 13/24

1d6, 2d10, 1d20: 13 or better for 24/25 1d6, 3d10: 13 or better for 23/25 3d10: 11 or better for 22/25 No (4,21)/25 No (6,19)/25 2d10: 9 or better for 18/25 1d4, 3d10: 17 or better for 17/25 2d10: 10 or better for 16/25 5d10: 27 or better for 14/25 No (12,13)/25

No (1,26)/27 4d6, 1d8: 13 or better for 25/27 No (4,23)/27 No (5,22)/27 3d6: 9 or better for 20/27 No (8,19)/27 No (10,17)/27 No (11,16)/27 No (13,14)/27

1d6, 2d10: 7 or better for 29/30 No (7,23)/30 No (11,19)/30 No (13,17)/30

1d4, 1d8: 3 or better for 31/32 1d4, 1d8: 4 or better for 29/32 3d4: 6 or better for 27/32 5d4, 2d20: 27 or better for 25/32 No (9,23)/32 2d4, 1d6: 8 or better for 21/32 3d8: 13 or better for 19/32 No (15,17)/32

2d6: 3 or better for 35/36 1d4, 2d6: 7 or better for 31/36 2d6, 1d8: 9 or better for 29/36 No (11,25)/36 1d4, 2d6: 9 or better for 23/36 No (17,19)/36

1d4, 1d10: 3 or better for 39/40 1d4, 1d10: 4 or better for 37/40 1d4, 1d20: 7 or better for 33/40 1d4, 1d20: 8 or better for 31/40 1d4, 1d20: 9 or better for 29/40 1d4, 1d20: 10 or better for 27/40 1d4, 1d20: 12 or better for 23/40 1d4, 1d20: 13 or better for 21/40

2d6, 2d20: 12 or better for 44/45 2d6, 1d10, 1d20: 12 or better for 43/45 2d6, 2d10: 12 or better for 41/45 2d6, 1d10: 9 or better for 38/45 No (8,37)/45 No (11,34)/45 No (13,32)/45 2d6, 1d10: 11 or better for 31/45 No (16,29)/45 No (17,28)/45 No (19,26)/45 No (22,23)/45

1d6, 1d8: 3 or better for 47/48 2d4, 1d6: 6 or better for 43/48 1d6, 2d8: 9 or better for 41/48 No (11,37)/48 1d4, 1d6, 1d8: 9 or better for 35/48 1d4, 1d6, 2d8: 14 or better for 31/48 No (19,29)/48 3d4, 1d6, 2d8, 2d20: 41 or better for 25/48

3d10: 7 or better for 49/50 2d10: 5 or better for 47/50 1d10, 1d20: 9 or better for 43/50 1d10, 1d20: 10 or better for 41/50 3d10: 13 or better for 39/50 2d10, 1d20: 17 or better for 37/50 2d20: 18 or better for 33/50 5d4, 2d10, 1d20: 32 or better for 31/50 1d8, 2d10: 15 or better for 29/50 No (23,27)/50

3d6: 5 or better for 53/54 3d6: 7 or better for 49/54 4d6, 1d20: 17 or better for 47/54 No (11,43)/54 No (13,41)/54 No (17,37)/54 No (19,35)/54 No (23,31)/54 No (25,29)/54

1d6, 1d10: 3 or better for 59/60 1d6, 1d8, 1d10: 9 or better for 53/60 1d6, 2d20: 17 or better for 49/60 1d4, 1d6, 1d10: 9 or better for 47/60 No (17,43)/60 No (19,41)/60 No (23,37)/60 No (29,31)/60

3d4: 4 or better for 63/64 2d8: 4 or better for 61/64 2d4, 1d8: 6 or better for 59/64 3d8: 9 or better for 57/64 2d4, 1d8, 1d10: 11 or better for 55/64 1d8, 1d10, 1d20: 14 or better for 53/64 1d4, 2d8: 9 or better for 51/64 2d8: 7 or better for 49/64 2d4, 1d6, 1d10: 12 or better for 47/64 1d4, 2d8, 1d10: 15 or better for 45/64 2d8: 8 or better for 43/64 No (23,41)/64 1d4, 2d8: 11 or better for 39/64 No (27,37)/64 2d4, 1d8, 1d10: 15 or better for 35/64 No (31,33)/64

2d6, 1d8: 5 or better for 71/72 1d4, 2d6: 6 or better for 67/72 2d6, 1d10: 8 or better for 65/72 No (11,61)/72 No (13,59)/72 1d4, 2d6: 8 or better for 55/72 No (19,53)/72 No (23,49)/72 No (25,47)/72 2d6, 1d10: 12 or better for 43/72 No (31,41)/72 No (35,37)/72

2d6, 3d8, 2d20: 22 or better for 74/75 No (2,73)/75 No (4,71)/75 1d6, 2d10: 9 or better for 68/75 No (8,67)/75 No (11,64)/75 3d4, 1d6, 2d20: 24 or better for 62/75 No (14,61)/75 1d4, 2d6, 2d10: 17 or better for 59/75 No (17,58)/75 1d6, 1d10, 1d20: 15 or better for 56/75 No (22,53)/75 No (23,52)/75 No (26,49)/75 No (28,47)/75 No (29,46)/75 No (31,44)/75 No (32,43)/75 No (34,41)/75 No (37,38)/75

1d8, 1d10: 3 or better for 79/80 1d8, 1d10: 4 or better for 77/80 2d8, 1d10: 9 or better for 73/80 2d4, 2d10: 11 or better for 71/80 2d20: 12 or better for 69/80 1d4, 1d8, 1d10: 9 or better for 67/80 1d8, 1d10, 1d20: 15 or better for 63/80 No (19,61)/80 1d8, 1d10: 8 or better for 59/80 1d6, 3d8, 1d10: 20 or better for 57/80 No (27,53)/80 1d4, 2d20: 21 or better for 51/80 1d4, 1d6, 2d20: 25 or better for 49/80 No (33,47)/80 3d20: 31 or better for 43/80 No (39,41)/80

No (1,80)/81 No (2,79)/81 No (4,77)/81 No (5,76)/81 No (7,74)/81 No (8,73)/81 No (10,71)/81 No (11,70)/81 No (13,68)/81 No (14,67)/81 No (16,65)/81 No (17,64)/81 No (19,62)/81 No (20,61)/81 No (22,59)/81 No (23,58)/81 No (25,56)/81 No (26,55)/81 No (28,53)/81 No (29,52)/81 No (31,50)/81 No (32,49)/81 No (34,47)/81 No (35,46)/81 No (37,44)/81 No (38,43)/81 No (40,41)/81

2d6, 1d10: 5 or better for 89/90 2d6, 1d20: 9 or better for 83/90 No (11,79)/90 No (13,77)/90 No (17,73)/90 No (19,71)/90 No (23,67)/90 No (29,61)/90 No (31,59)/90 No (37,53)/90 No (41,49)/90 No (43,47)/90

2d4, 1d6: 4 or better for 95/96 1d4, 1d6, 1d8: 6 or better for 91/96 1d6, 1d8, 1d10: 8 or better for 89/96 No (11,85)/96 No (13,83)/96 1d4, 1d6, 1d8: 8 or better for 79/96 1d4, 2d6, 1d10: 12 or better for 77/96 No (23,73)/96 No (25,71)/96 1d6, 2d8: 11 or better for 67/96 No (31,65)/96 1d6, 2d20: 22 or better for 61/96 No (37,59)/96 3d4, 1d6: 11 or better for 55/96 No (43,53)/96 No (47,49)/96

No (1,99)/100 No (3,97)/100 No (7,93)/100 No (9,91)/100 No (11,89)/100 No (13,87)/100 No (17,83)/100 No (19,81)/100 No (21,79)/100 No (23,77)/100 No (27,73)/100 No (29,71)/100 No (31,69)/100 No (33,67)/100 No (37,63)/100 No (39,61)/100 No (41,59)/100 No (43,57)/100 No (47,53)/100 No (49,51)/100

Look, you can't complain about this after giving us so many scenarios involving N locked chests and M unlabeled keys.

D&D Combinatorics [Explained]

[robininthelabyrinth]

how I learned to stop worrying and love my spouse - ao3 - Chapter 1

Pairing: Wen Ruohan/Lan Qiren, Wen Ruohan/Sect Leader Nie

Summary:

Wen Ruohan was having a no-good, bad, awful, terrible sort of day. The sort of day that you don't just get over. The sort of day that was so bad that it changed your entire outlook on life, usually in a negative way. Or, well, he had been, but that was before a juvenile Lan proposed to marry him. Marry! Him! What a ridiculous idea! (Wen Ruohan accepts.)

Author Note:

So when I was posting The Other Mountain, a lot of people were wondering how in the world Wen Ruohan would end up marrying into the Lan sect. I started writing this to answer that question.

It was going to be another longfic, but then I fell headfirst into a pit of depression/burnout/whatever and haven't written anything for a year, so I am just going to post this as is. It's unedited (meaning that there may be typos, character inconsistencies, and that scenes/arc moments/plot beats that might have been expanded on or rearranged have not been fixed), but it does reach an acceptable end point. I'll also include the notes I made for where it was going to go. I hope you enjoy.

(Title is from Dr. Strangelove - How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb)

link to Ao3

[myanmardoesnotexist]

Vale is so insane to me because he will pin his student to the bed, tell him he belongs to him, wrap his hand around his throat and then wont touch him at night because that’s crossing a line brother you CHOKED HIM. And then he’s like “Oh boy I sure hope he didn’t feel my raging boner while I pressed him against me, mouthed against his neck, pinched his hips, made him moan and implied I want to KILL HIS BOYFRIEND. Atleast I didnt make my feelings obvious, I so love this little game of ours :))” Meanwhile poor Marc has been blue screening nonstop. VALE HE WANTS YOU TO FUCK HIM YOURE NOT BEING A RESPONSIBLE ADULT WE’RE WELL PAST THAT YOURE TORTURING THE BOY.

And then he sees Andrea one time, implies they fucked, for what?!?, my guy you’ve only groped him, and gets his shit rocked LIKE WHAT DID U EXPECT.

Props to Andrea tho like I would’ve lost my mind wayyyy earlier putting up with those two. Gods stronger warrior for real. And I know Marc, with his equally insane little brain, is rolllling knowing he’s drawn both of them to the point they’re scrapping over him like this guy is so spoilt of crazy.

(Also, what does Tatino mean Google doesn’t give me an answer)

I AM FUCKING DYING THIS IS MY FAVORITE ASK EVER

This is just a perfect representation of my thoughts as I write. Amazing.

Yeah Vale has completely lost the plot. Poor Marc is just laying there five seconds away from hyperventilating and Vale is just like :) what fun :) i'm not making everything worse at all :) I am not making my extreme sexual attraction to him obvious at all :) Marc doesn't suspect a thing :) I should convince this man who despises me I slept with his boyfriend :) This should be fine :)

We will get more insight into Marc's thoughts next chapter (and Andrea's) but I can promise that his response to this.... will not be normal.

I know you guys may be doubting me now, but I promise everything will be okay for Andrea in the end. He deserves to crash out for a bit though. Andrea's reputation era

Oh, also to answer your question:

Tatino is a little nickname in Italian, has no direct translation, but is a term of endearment. Again no direct translation, but it stems from from the word patato which is potato in Italian, but can be used as a cutesy nickname to mean cute (sort of). Usually it is shortened to tato, but if you want to be really cheesy, tatino. I guess the closest thing to a real meaning would be 'cute little potato' but really that is not entirely accurate. I used it because it's what my Nonna calls my Nonno. They are very adorable.

[cube-cumb3r]

How did people answer the Dungeon Meshi question? (aka. how the Hell do you parse through free-form responses?!?)

(art by Ryokō Kui)

This first part is just going to be babble about google sheets and excel functions, feel free to skim or skip to the results.

Here's how the question was formulated: "Which Dungeon meshi character is objectively the best one If you are unfamiliar with dungeon meshi but still have an answer to this question, you can still answer (you don't need to know the character's name)."

As you can imagine, this made the responses exactly as creative as you'd expect. Which has made them both delightful to read through, but also painful to convert into usable data.

I started with making a list of the most frequently used words, excluding common ones. Here's an excerpt.

From this we already can see some hints as to the character most frequently mentioned, but if I were to make a chart of this it'd be a zillion categories, when ideally the responses obviously referring to the same character should be in one group, so we can truely see how many times a character was mentioned, no?

Although I could individually read every answer and categorize them manually I am NOT going to do that because, 1. it's tedious 2. I don't want to 3. I won't learn anything

If I ever work with a dataset of 1000 observations, doing it manually is absolutely not even feasible, therefore it's good to already know a better way to do it.

I was initially hoping to utilize xlookup, but I realized that xlookup doesn't actually do what I think it did. What I was HOPING it would do was to be able to identify keywords within longer answers, such as "cat girl" or "beardy dwarf" and then match them to some sort of index, where it'd be like Oh "cat girl"? That's obviously "Izutsumi". This is not how xlookup works. Xlookup cannot pick out a keyword from a longer response, it can only identify a partial phrase (example, if the full index phrase was "Delicious In Dungeon", a response saying "Delicious" will match, but a response saying "My favorite anime is Delicious in Dungeon", will not match, because xlookup cannot match a PERFECT MATCH from within a longer chunk of text.)

So instead I had to rely on my long-time good-time pal Regular Expression functions and combine them with xlookup. With my reliable sunday lover Regexextract I can Extract keywords out of answers in one step, and then in the next step match said keyword to my index.

INDEX:

^here is the index. Any non-blank response that doesn't match these gets counted as "Other". I tried to make the keywords as short as possible, that way they'd catch as many alternate spellings as possible without me having to write every variation out myself (LAZY!). For example, "bear" and "beard" don't need to be separate keywords (if they like in this index, correspond to the same character), as the keyword "bear" will match both the word Bear and Beard. Though, and as you will see later, making the keywords too short will result in false matches.

I made some Liberal Assumptions as to who a responder meant, such as in answers mentioning 'lesbians' or 'elf', which could in theory mean many characters. I went back and checked and adjusted the index to see that every answer got coded reasonably, but this has resulted in an index that is extremely adapted to this specific dataset, and it would not be as effective or reliable on a different dataset of Dungeon Meshi Answers.

Also, if a responder mentioned multiple characters, the first match is the one they got counted as. This could also be incorrect, depending on the answer.

RESULTS!!!

Here are the results! The title of the chart is wrong, I was obviously asking about the objectively best character, not "favorite"! Oh well. According to 24.4% responders, the objectively best character is Senshi, which is the correct answer (<- JOKE) (<- actually answered 'Marcille' himself)

You might notice quite a large "Other" category of 21.3% too, this is every response that was difficult to match to a specific Dungeon Meshi character, for a variety of reasons. Check out this hideous pie chart.

I don't know who "the one with teacher vibes" or "the one who is secretly a neutron star" is. Sorgy. Some of these were also referring to characters from other media, which is allowed and I respect it, but none of them recurring sadly. Wouldn't it be crazy if like 4 entirely separate people independently answered Sans. What Would It Mean?

Full responses:

With every "identifiable" response just being coded into a category, you don't actually get to see the beautiful ways in which THOSE people responded this question. So, here they are, in ascending order.

Izutsumi (7.5% of responses)

I was expecting more alternate spellings on this one, I personally think her name is tricky to spell, but that didn't seem to be the case. Also, seems that many people who think she's objectively the best one also don't actually know her name.

Falin (9.4% of responses)

Two of the responses here contains the two keywords, "chicken"/"bird" (which would categorize it as "Falin") and "lesb" (Which would actually categorize it as "Marcille"). Luckily, chicken and bird happened to be written first, so those responses got correctly coded as Falin.

Chilchuck (10.0% of responses)

Nearly everyone who think Chilchuck is the best one also seem to know his name. Maybe you need to be familiar with the show to truely appreciate the Chilchuck?

Laios (12.5% of responses)

Here, due to my laziness of not wanting to account for every possible spelling of Laios, "Ludmila" gets miscategorized as Laios because it contains the keyword "la". However, "The paladin" (which I do think actually is referring to Laios) gets accidentally categorized as Laios for the same reason, correctly.

Marcille (12.5% of responses)

The reason I made the controversial judgement call that responses containing the word lesbian would be coded as Marcille, is because I made the very liberal assumption that anyone responding with just "The lesbian" probably did mean Marcille, anyone familiar enough with Dungeon Meshi to mean Otta is probably be familiar enough to know her name. There is one response here saying "Lesbians", and they probably meant both Marcille and Falin but responders only get one character, so it got counted as Marcille.

Senshi (24.4%)

(You might notice as I just did that a response clearly meaning Chilchuck got coded as Senshi because they happened to mention Senshi first. That's my mistake for not making "halfling" it's own keyword. Sorry!)

Similarly to Izutsumi and Falin, Senshi seems to be a character many responders don't know the name of, in fact it looks like he most out of any character had the most responses mention him without knowing his name. Given that, I would make the assumption that most people who are only vaguely familiar with Dungeon Meshi, and perhaps don't even watch the show, overwhelmingly think Senshi is the Best Guy. Does that make it more of a correct answer, or less?

Anyway,

That's that for Dungeon Meshi. Happy Meshing everybody

[LINK TO MASTERPOST]

Does anyone want to do my new google form

[incorporealbombchelle]

On Earth As It Is In Heaven

Mr. Reed x Fem! (Mid-20s) Reader (18+)

Synopsis: Pt. 1 - (y/n) is fulfilling her religious obligation to a very... curious older gentleman...

⚠️TW: Percieved Heresy (duh), Mentions of Catholicism, Possible Vague & Obscure Spoilers for 'Heretic' (2024), Age Gap, Condescension, Loss of Virginity, Raw P in V Penetration, General Smut.

A. Reed is the latest on my visitation list to request information on the faith and -poor thing- has a 'severe form of agoraphobia that won't let [him] leave [his] home'. This is common amongst middle aged and elderly people, so today should be quick, easy, and pleasant. Just a few small notes on how the faith will beautify his life and purify his soul, then I leave him to explore catholicism of his own volition and enjoy the reward of life everlasting when he passes in 4 to 7 years.

I make my way up the gravel driveway to the house and give the door a few quick knocks. I wait a few seconds "Mr. Reed?" I call. "My name is (y/n), I'm here to educate you on the catholic church?"

I wait.

Nothing. I decide if he takes over a minute, I'll just go. Come back another day. Enjoy some time to myself.

Just then, as I'm about to turn and leave, a rustle of some sort from the other side of the door. I straighten my jacket and practice my smile.

"Coming! Coming!" calls a muffled voice from the other side of the door. I hear some shuffling, a series of switches and clicks, and I'm greeted by who I can only assume to be one A. Reed. He's a tall, lanky man I estimate to be in his late 50s or early 60s, with well kept short grey hair, wire framed glasses, bright blue eyes, and a warm smile. He's wearing a quirky multicolored cardigan over a grey button down with corduroy pants and sneakers that allude to a more active lifestyle than I understand him to have. I can tell that when he was my age he'd have been very handsome, and that quality hasn't faded over his years. There's something modern, yet classic about him. Something young and cool. Something... attractive.

"Mr.... " I glance the visitation request form on my clipboard "Reed?"

"Yes! Yes, come in, please."

He ushers me past the small foyer and into the living room, making sure the door closes securely behind me.

"Hello" I smile and stick out my hand for him to shake, which he does.

"Hello dear, your name again?" He beams.

"(y/n)"

His eyes explore me "(y/n)! Lovely name, suits you well. Please, come, sit, I'll take your coat."

I take a seat on the small settee nearest the door, slipping out of my coat and handing it to him as I straighten out my skirt and sweater. He takes it to what I assume to be his coat closet and returns a moment later, shuffling into the cozy living room excitedly and planting himself on the chair across the coffee table from me.

"Now," he says, rubbing his hands together eagerly "let's get into it, hm? ; what's so great about catholicism?"

I give him my usual schpeel, feeling even myself lose interest in the trappings of the faith as I finish my (entirely too long) monologue of the catholic doctrine. I take a breath, satisfied that I've summarized our beliefs well enough.

"Can I answer any questions?" I offer.

"Y-Yes, actually," he gives me a close-lipped smile "I've just got... one question, although it may be a tad uncomfortable. Will you indulge me?"

"Oh, Gladly. Shoot."

"Well, Ms. (y/n)... as a catholic... do you personally believe that masturbation is sinful?" I feel my mouth grow dry as looks at me fondly, as though he's just asked to borrow a pen at the bank.

I hadn't anticipated... this. Especially from such a sweet, kind-seeming older man.

"Uhm... I... that's- well it's- yes, because you see, Mr. Reed, God puts lust before us as a test. We're meant to resist it until it's time for us to create a family. This ensures our passage to Heaven." I simper, hoping he can't sense my panicked improvisation.

"Ah, yes, I see. Very well. Indulge me further then, will you?"

"Sure...what's up?"

He chuckles at my casual address "(y/n)... good catholic girl that you are, have you masturbated before?" He leans back in his chair, smiling innocently, crossing one leg over the other and folding his hands over his lap.

I mirror him, crossing my legs and straightening out my skirt, trying desperately not to make eye contact. "Mr. Reed, I'm not sure that's appropriate to say..."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I did warn you my questions might be uncomfortable." I feel his eyes bore into me, wandering my face and body. I finally meet his gaze.

"Yes, but..." I sigh, keeping my smile to the best of my ability "that's just sort of...personal."

"Oh? Then let me ask you this ; do you belive in an omnipresent god, a God that can monitor your actions at all times?"

"Yes, of course, God watches over us always."

"Right, Right. So then, if you *had* masturbated, and God was aware of this, as we've established he is. Everywhere. Always., " he gestures around widely "you'd be disqualified from the race to heaven for the sin of... experiencing pleasure?"

"I-Yes, Lust is one of the seven deadliest sins a person can commit, after all..." I swallow, feeling my face flush.

"So you have then."

"What?"

"Masturbated."

My brow furrows and I stutter, unable to summon words. I take a breath, caught off guard. He smirks.

I watch Mr. Reed quickly make his way around the coffee table and take a seat next to me on the settee, angling himself toward me. He rests his glasses on top of his head.

"And I'll assume," he asserts in a lowered tone "you had an orgasm...yes?" He gestures to me to answer the question.

I shift in my seat, acutely aware of a faint tension in my core.

"I-That's not-"

"So that's a yes then," he goes on, eyes locked on mine, not skipping a beat "And (y/n), you just have to wonder, Why would a God who gave you a body, " his eyes dart down to my chest momentarily "a perfect... perfect, body, capable of experiencing the rapurtous pleasure of an orgasm, then punish you for your enjoyment of that gracious gift?" He raises his voice " Does God not want us to enjoy ourselves and the abilities he bestows upon us?" 

"He...does, just not in... that way?"

"Then in what ways, (y/n), does God approve of us enjoying our lives?"

"Through... worship, through service of those in need..."

"So we can only gain pleasure from actions that directly benefit God's good reputation then, hm?"

"Uhm-"

I gasp as I feel his hand rest gently over my knee, giving it a cautious squeeze.

"Mr. Reed-"

"I'm sorry, sorry, I get overly passionate on these matters, forgive my tone," he cringes to himself "I just think, don't we all deserve to feel... Good? Even just for a moment?" He scoots closer and I feel the outside of his thigh brush against mine.

I know I should move his hand from my knee. Shrink away. Say something. I should leave. But I don't. And as his bright blue eyes flick down to my lips, I don't want to.

I feel my breath catch as he delicately pushes my long skirt to just over my knees... then retracts his hands.

"(y/n), you've been so honest with me, and so generous with your knowledge and your time. Will you answer one last question for me?"

I swallow, "uhm... sure..." I manage shakily.

"Are you a virgin?"

The question hangs in the air for a moment.

"I don't see how that relates to anything" I squeak.

He chuckles "Oh, (y/n), this relates to... everything." He leans in, speaking softly into the shell of my ear "you can tell me... it'll be our little secret. God doesn't need to know all, hm?" I feel him smirk and I shiver as his arm snakes around my shoulder, his thumb massaging patterns into the outside of my sleeve.

"But he does know all," I protest, shivering as his lips brush my ear.

"Then there's no harm in confirming what he already knows... aloud, is there? Like I said...just between us... you, me and...him" Mr. Reed looks up briefly, acknowledging God's presence, then gives me a sweet smile.

"Are....You.... A Virgin? Very simple. Yes or no."

A beat.

I mutter an almost silent 'Yes'

"Hm? I'm sorry, the old ears, they're shoddy, come again?"

I close my eyes "Yes, Yes. I'm a virgin." A wave of shame washes over me at the admission despite knowing it's exactly God's plan for me. I look down, fussing with the hem of my skirt in an attempt to seem nonchalant.

"Oh...Understood. You do seem quite... sensitive to touch, mm?" He squeezes my arm and I jolt a bit. Mr. Reed snickers "Aren't you just the most gorgeous catholic angel? The polite, pretty, soft spoken girl, touches herself, refuses the touch of others, its all in God's plan... but don't you ever wonder..." his fingers trace lightly over my knee again, raising my skirt just an inch or two higher up my thigh "how good it can be?"

He lifts my chin so I have no choice but to look directly at him.

He's more attractive up close, the way his eyes radiate warmth, the softness of his smile, the thickness of his hair, the faint smell of his cologne...

I force a shaky breath.

"N-no," I sputter

"Don't. Lie to me." He looks me over, still holding my gaze  "You're an awful liar, and your body betrays you," he sing-songs, a self satisfied smirk playing at his lips.

"You're flushed, you can't sit still, your pupils are dilated, your nipples hard, but you sit here; so innocent, weak, pure and pliable, letting the silly old man in the checkered sweater touch your body, the most sacred possession a person has, while you confidently call yourself a devoted catholic and dedicated virgin. Now that is faith..." his fingertips trace slowly up and down my inner thigh as he says this; I gently place my hand over his wrist, squeezing my legs together, "Mr. Reed," but he doesn't stop, instead ghosting over the tops of my thighs, inching the skirt even higher. "What would God say... about this?" Each of his hands come to rest on my knees, slowly guiding them apart, sliding my skirt the last of the way up my legs, the front of my white cotton thong now visible... and visibly wet. I moan quietly as his fingers skim up and down the drenched fabric, a look of pure delight on his face as he traces over my clit then brings them back to his mouth to taste.

"Could it be that you'd *like* this to carry on further, (y/n)?"

I bite my lip, my brow furrowing as I struggle for an answer. Everything he does feels so good, so right, and entirely wrong all at once, everything he's saying... makes sense... and I'm so drawn to him...

I can't.

"Mr. Reed, may I please have my coat?" I stammer out quickly.

He removes his remaining hand from my knee, standing up. "Of course, dear, I'll just be a minute," he smiles politely. As he turns to leave the room I glance the way his partially stiff cock tents the fabric of his pants and feel myself tremble with want. Gathering all my restraint, I stand and walk toward the door, and a moment later Mr. Reed meets me in the foyer with my coat.

"One coat." He smiles, and walks back into the living room, settling in with a book as if nothing just happened.

I wrap the coat around myself and turn the front door's handle to push it.

It doesn't budge. I pull instead. It's stuck. "Mr. Reed, the- the front door is stuck here-" I call, silently panicking as I try the handle again, and again. I look it over to realize...there isnt an inside lock.

Mr. Reed makes his way back to the foyer, seemingly nervous before a realization apparently dawns on him. "Oh, goodness, I forgot to reset the timer after letting you in. All the locks in this house are on a timer.  Especially the front and back doors. My deepest apologies, (y/n) dear. Ugh. This sucks, hm?"

"Uh... yeah. Sorry I'm not sure I understand. How long is this... timer?"

"Twenty-four hours I'm afraid" he exaggerates an wince.

"Twenty-Four hours?"

"Yes, that seems to be the situation we've found ourselves in. So sorry, (y/n), I feel like such an idiot"

"You're not..." I trail off quietly

"Agh, but I'm so so terribly sorry. Can I possibly interest you in some pie while we wait it out? Absolute least I can do." He puts his hands together in prayer, begging my forgiveness.

"Uh... sure, yeah. Pie ... sounds great." I'm confused, terrified, and still somewhat aroused as Mr. Reed heads to grab our pie. What have I gotten myself into?

I make my way back to where I had been sitting just moments earlier, ignoring the moisture between my legs as I settle into my seat and lay my coat over the back of the settee.

He shuffles hurriedly back into the room holding two plates of freshly microwaved pie, whose smell fills the room instantly.  He hands me my plate and spoon and settles back into his chair across from me with his own.

I take a small bite of the pie. Blueberry. It's delicious, the best I've had, and before long I've scarfed the entirety of the slice down. I look up at Mr. Reed, realizing how I must have just looked wolfing down pie like I've never eaten before. "Oh my god, my manners" I giggle, covering my mouth as I finish the last bite.

Mr. Reed laughs. "Oh don't worry, that's the typical reaction I get with this recipe" he smirks proudly.

"I bet" I smile. He stands up and clears my empty plate.  I can't help but notice he's barely touched his own.

When he returns, I sit up straighter. "Mr. Reed, wouldn't it be possible to reset the timer?"

"It's old tech, none of this digital crap you're used to. It's fixed to operate on a rigid schedule.  Without exception." He says flatly, sitting down again.

"But I may be able to fiddle with it some," he leans in "for a small price."

"Price? I don't carry much money with me on these visits, the best I have is a bus pass, so-"

He laughs loudly "Oh-ho, no, no dear. Not money. Never money. I'd want you to give me something much more meaningful. More important."

"What then?"

"Your virginity." he states plainly, smiling innocuously.

"You want me to give myself to you?"

"Well, yes. And in exchange I'll see what I can do about the hold on those awful, sticky, locks. "

"And no one," he glances upward  "has to know.... a thing" he winks.

Mr. Reed extends a hand to me and before I can stop myself, I take it. He leads me through winding hallways lined with paintings, sculptures, artifcats, and ornate doors.  We arrive at the bottom of a wide hardwood staircase. I follow him up the stairs and down another long hallway. At the end, warm light pours from an open door. Mr. Reed steps inside and I follow closely behind him.

The master bedroom is large, almost too large to believably fit in this house. It's floors are dark stained hardwood and covered in layers of expensive looking carpets, while its walls are lined with overflowing and intricately carved bookcases of what I estimate to be every doctrine of religious text. A gilded chandelier hangs from the ceiling, casting dim, mellow light over the room. The entirety of the back wall is lined with backlit stained glass portraits of saints, angels, demons, and notable religious figures. In the middle of the room, a four-poster bed sits atop a double tiered wooden platform. It vaguely reminds me of the altar in a cathedral, the bed adorned in intricately patterned sheets and a multitude of different sizes and shapes of pillows...

"Now then," Mr. Reed says, slightly out of breath "I'd like you to walk to the edge of the bed for me, and bend yourself over it."

I open my mouth, willing myself to protest, to no avail.

"Go on, quick as you like"

I obey, slowly making my way up the steps to the bed and bending at the waist in front of it, letting my upper body rest against the silken sheets and close my eyes tightly. This isn't happening. Is this how it happens? It can't be. I'm dreaming.

Within a moment I feel Mr. Reed's presence behind me, his hands positioned on my sides. He picks up my skirt and pushes it up over my hips, exposing my ass to him. I let out a moan of anticipation as I feel his hands roam over me, squeezing hard. "Mr. Reed..." I mewl, my body tense with need. He brings a hand between my legs and pulls my panties to the side, gliding his fingertips expertly along my folds, humming at the warmth and slickness of my vulva. He chuckles. "You really haven't been touched this way before, mm?"

"Never" I almost whisper

He slips a finger inside me, steadily dipping in and out. I feel myself spasm around his fingers involuntarily, eliciting a low groan from him "My god, so sensitive. So... tight. Christ,"  he continues working me at a leisurely pace, and after a few minutes I'm pushing myself back onto his fingers, craving more of him.

"Mr. Reeed" I whine, flushing at how wrong this all is. I want it. I need it.

I hear the sound of a belt unbuckling, a zipper unzipping and my eyes snap open. Oh my god. I can feel him lining himself up with my entrance. "You're ready then, pet?"

I give a hesitant nod, and immediately feel him pushing into me. I moan and gasp and feel so completely full of him, I can barely take all of it.

He doesn't move at first.

He rests his hands on my hips and takes a deep, shaky breath. "Look at you, all filled out." I crane my head to look back at him and he smirks at me.

Without warning, he gives a singular, hard thrust into my core and I yelp. He allows me a second to recover before falling into a steady, commanding rhythm.

Our bodies clap against eachother and my mind goes hazy as he fucks me, the sound only heightening the sensation of him moving inside me.

"Mr. Ree-eed?" I gasp hotly.

He looks up, slowing his pace somewhat "Yes dear, enjoying yourself?"

I nod again. "Yes, so much, but could you maybe... undress me more?"

"Oh of course, how crude of me!" He slips out of me with a wet pop and I gasp at the loss of contact. His hands grip my hips roughly and he turns me over as if it's nothing. He's older, but clearly not weak. He tugs the thong down my legs swiftly and helps me slip my sweater over my head. He looks my chest over, clearly pleased with my lack of a bra, and moves to unzip the side of my skirt before yanking it off my legs and tossing it aside with my other clothing. He removes my shoes gingerly, and I lay before him in just my knee-socks, flushed and panting.

I hungrily take in the sight of him. His body is nothing like I had assumed it might be. He's slim and muscular, with a touch of sagging skin in the places that make sense. If his hair color didn't betray his age, he'd be nearly indistinguishable from men decades his junior. His cock is thick, circumcised, and appears from this angle to be what I assume is a manageable length?

"Ohh, you are just the most gorgeous, breathtaking little thing," his hands slip under my knees and he pushes my legs forward, folding me in half, holding the backs of my thighs in place as his eyes rake over me. "Thank y-"

"Gorgeous things are to be cherished, no?" He interrupts me and before I can even think of an answer, he sinks into me fully again, more easily this time, and I. assumed. wrong.

I let out a strangled noise somewhere between a yelp and a whimper as I feel him impale me, my body tightening around him, aching with need. 

He gives me a moment to adjust to his size and then continues rocking into me at the same pace as before. He brings two fingers to my lips and I let them in, sucking enthusiastically, keeping my eyes trained on his.

He lets out a low hum,  contented with my impatience. "Atta girl,"

As I suck his fingers, he brings his opposite hand to my hip and kneads his thumb over my clit in slow, attentive circles. He removes the fingers from my mouth and runs them delicately over one nipple, hardening it instantly and sending a jolt through my body. "Mmmh, Misterr, Reed, I-" I gasp as a shudder runs through me. In response, he slows his thrusts to an agonizing pace, looking down at me expectantly. "I'm close," I pant.

He continues his slow, shallow thrusts and circles over my clit "Aww, and so soon? You are a virgin, aren't you (y/n)? So. Fucking. Delicate..." He teases, punctuating each word with a forceful buck of his hips. I whine. He gives a few quicker thrusts, and I squeeze my knees together as I feel myself clenching and pulsating around his girth. My vision goes white as I come, and I hear myself mewl weakly as I go limp beneath him.

As he pulls out, his eyes are hungrily trained on my body, and he strokes himself steadily for a moment or two before letting his head tilt back as he pulses out thick ropes of semen onto my stomach and chest with a low, labored groan. I gasp at the sudden warmth and blink up at him, panting, defiled, and entirely undone.

As Mr. Reed recovers from his orgasm, he huffs, drinking in my disordered state.

He reaches out, smiling proudly as he grazes a thumb over my cheek. "Wait here a minute, I'll be right back" he pads out of the room, returning seconds later wrapped up in a plush robe, holding a towel out to me "here we are," he beams. I take the towel from him, simpering, and wipe away the aftermath of his release.

I hold a pillow over myself as I sit up, hiding my exposed form to the best of my ability.  He situates himself on the bed next to me, his eyes searching mine "Now then," he takes a breath "how did that feel?" I nod slowly, still dizzy from my climax. "Words. Use them."

"It felt...hot...dirty...transcendent." I exhale.

"Transcendent." He echoes. "And does it seem your soul has been eternally damned??"

"No..."

"Do you feel dirty? Or wrong, generally?"

"No."

"Mm. So you had sex, for the first time -shock horror- with the kooky old man from the visitation list..." he trails his fingertips up the side of my arm "and not only did it not cause your immediate eternal damnation, but took you in the exact opposite direction, to the height of sensation, if I'm not mistaken."

"It..did..." I look away from him, feeling my face grow hot.

"And you still believe that a God who loves us, who wants us to enjoy all life has to offer, would deprive us of something so... transcendent?"

"N-no Mister Reed. I don't. Not anymore."

His eyes widen.

"Oh, changed your mind have you? How will you ever get to heaven without that... core belief?"

"I guess we'll just have to bring it down to earth..." I smirk up at him.

"We?"

"We."

[gem-de-lune]

Daily Vibe Check 11/26

To lighten the daily read load but still ensure I get to everyone, i will be reading on 1 Riize member daily, and Seunfhan every other day or just if something with him shifts significantly. I will do Riize collective reads every other day that I'm not doing a Seunghan Read. So today it is Seunghan + Sohee and then an SM read i found in my asks. Tmw it will be Riize collective + Any other member + something relevant to current topics or asks. Hope that makes sense.

Seunghan

Knight of Chalices + King of Wands + 6 of Wands

Honestly bro is just chilling right now...lowkey this is his card when he is at his most neutral/leaning positive state. Very charming very vibey. He seems to be cheeky lately. He is doing well. I asked about how he felt about Rolling Loud in Thailand, and he responded with the King right there. He's feeling very very high up about the ordeal. Rather than being the King, he sees Briize as the King, and him gathering his graces and motivation to push gorwards simply by watching. There are a lot of fond and just overall respectful and "in awe" emotions attached here. To the point where he may wonder if it is overbearing for others (cough OT6 cough) leading me to believe he may have seen their distainful reactions. Nonetheless it wasn't enough to erase his positive feelings on the matter. He really feels like he should bow down in gratitude lmfao.

When I had asked if he had contacted members recently i got the 6 of Wands, which is a yes signally a positive and celebratory? Chat. Therefore, it is probably around or on Taro's birthday they spoke.

One thing of note that I and maybe many have noticed is that Taro seems the most standoffish out of all the members regarding this entire situation from the start. This is true-ish deep down. I pulled another card to clarify the 6 of wands, which made everything I already knew click into place for me- but I accidentally reshuffled it in my deck and I do not remember exactly what card it was- but I know it fully cleared this up for me so I will share the explaination I came to here:

Taro doesn't really know how to deal with negative situations. At all. He acts as if they do not exist unless he must face them. He is not good with them. He will spiral out of control and doesn't know how to work through those things properly, so he believes the most mature thing is to not engage to begin with. Therefore, it was very awkward for him to try and contact Seunghan directly. He does not know what to say. He has been avoiding it even if he also believes he was wronged and is still OT7. He is the most awkward member about this. I do believe that Seunghan mayhaps reached out during his birthday, and this relationship is starting to mend again. Wanted to share bc this makes me sad and happy.

Sohee

The World + 6 of Chalices + 2 of Pentacles

Sohee is generally feeling really good, maybe like something has been completed to an extent sucessfully. I think, tbh that he is glad to be home lmfao, but he really enjoyed the adventure. That sort of feeling. Since people were asking, I decided to ask if he had really smiled and nodded at the Riize is 7 banners at Rolling Loud, to which I pulled 6 of Chalices. This is a yes, it made him think of some other memories- so since that is the case I really think he may be referring to Madrid, which is funny bc Briize were saying he was grinning just like he did back then!

I then asked him how he thought things were progressing for Seunghan's return, to which I got 2 of Pentacles. Things are still being prepared and there's not a clear answer at the moment. This question led me into the next few things we will discuss regarding SM.

SM

Knight of Pentacles + 8 of Swords + Knight of Wands + Queen of Wands

Generally, there is a lot of turmoil here. Careful planning and preparation, but its almost like one team is like "let's do this now, this is stupid and we need to act now" and the other is like "why do we have to do that? I don't wanna". One side wants to do as they have always done, and the other side is younger and more open-minded, wanting to avoid disaster due to refusal to adapt. The older side sees this as reckless, the younger side sees the older as lazy and slow. It is very tough, and they are at odds. I will come back to this energy a bit later.

8 of Wands + 2 of Chalices + 10 of Wands

Someone asked if SM was making a decision regarding Seunghan this week. Pulled 8 of Wands and 2 of Chalices. Yes?? I think they 100% have the intention to do so. But with the 10 of wands as the outcome I think that whatever outcome it is it will be while before it is released, and whatever it is will be due to a lot of pressure being put on SM. So I advise that OT7 really make sure to keep laying it on as thick as possible as this will affect the outcome.

Bottom of Deck:

8 of Chalices + 5 of Wands

The theme here is still a lot of conflict. One side will need to grow mature enough to give up their stance. Whoever gives in first wins.

Final Notes:

Mainly, what I wanna speak on is the energy SM is feeling right now. I made a transit reading when Pluto went into Aquarius that discussed what tf is going on with SM lately and what will be going on for the next few years. I will link it HERE (for twt users, i will link in the twt)

Other than that, again, keep spreading the truth and laying on the pressure here. We are approaching a kind of finale situation rather soon. Or at least some news regarding such. Note that even if we win, we may not KNOW right away. We may not know 100% until closer to a CB. I hope not, but it's certainly possible. So please keep doing what you're doing, and do not give in!!

[silvercap]

What’s your favorite thing to see in medical whump?

Hmmm, good question!! There's a lot I like haha.

I do like it when a character is really out-of-it with drugs or exhaustion or just so sick and weak that they can't do anything but stay in bed and be looked after. Especially with that last one, all the IVs and oxygen masks and blood pressure cuffs and really any other monitoring or medical equipment is just so much fun to think about. I really like the sort of helpless discomfort of needing to keep all this weird stuff in their veins etc. and the clash between 'this sucks' and 'this is helping you heal/breathe/whatever' hehe. Hospital gowns are also great for this--idk how to explain it but I really like the aesthetic of a character in shapeless, baggy clothes that are basically just another sheet draped over them for convenience and a semblance of privacy. Also related, the fading-in-and-out-of-consciousness while they heal/drug dosages wax and wane is just one of my faaavorite tropes. Love when someone is there to soothe them back to sleep <3

Also fond of intubation and respiratory support in general. Just has that certain je ne sais quois!!

[pipwasreal]

Ooh very interesting, thank you! I did wonder what was going through particularly Charles' head in his Hell mirror scene, and Jayden's answer is so sweet!

Transcript under the read more...

George: Hi Nat! It's George and Jayden here, for the Dead Boy Detectives. Thank you so much for supporting these cameos. Sadly, we're coming to the end of them now, um, but we've had a really, really lovely time loving the show with all of you, so thank you for your part of that. I'm gonna jump straight in. Now, you have said you're "always intrigued by Charles and Edwin's reactions to seeing their reflections in Hell." What would we say went through their heads at that moment?

Jayden: I can say for me, I remember, obviously, embodying Charles in that moment, I remember just having in my head that, you know, there was obviously a task at hand, he was in Hell to save his best friend, and I think that was a moment of looking at himself being like, "okay, d'you know what, you're not like your dad, you are a hero, and... let's just go and save your best mate."

George: That's lovely, that is. And, actually, off the back of that, I was on set with Jayden when he played that moment, and it was so powerful because, you know, there was something really, um... really profound and ironic about these boys who've travelled through mirrors every day, but because they're human mirrors, they're mirrors on the mortal plane, they can't see their reflections. Um, whereas in Hell, they're magic mirrors, which meant that they could see their reflections.

Jayden: And they couldn't hop through them.

George: And they couldn't hop through them!

Jayden: As you can see I... Charles tried to.

George: Yeah exactly, so the bit where Edwin sees his reflection...

Jayden: Unless you're going to... a different realm.

George: True.

Jayden: You get dragged in.

George: The bit where Edwin...

Jayden: Yeet!

[George laughs]

George: ...could see his reflection, um, was actually not in the script. I just played that moment, 'cause I thought there was something interesting to it, and then Steve, our showrunner, just hopped in, he was like [whispers] "Can you say 'my reflection'? Just to help make it really clear what's going on." Um...

Jayden: "How do you think Edwin was affected by being a teenager in World War One and knowing he might have to take part in it?"

[George gasps]

George: Great question.

Jayden: Have you ever been asked that before?

George: I don't think I have. I've spoken a bit about World War One. I mean, St Hilarion's is a school for the sons of military personnel, so I think the idea of discipline and the sort of vocabulary and the lifestyle around uh milit... everything to do with the military would have kind of been ingrained in him. So I think he kind of wouldn't have expected much else, in a way, I think it would have been to be expected. But there would have been a lot of fear, and I'm sure that fear would have contributed to the joy and escapism he found in those detective comics.

Jayden: You've said here that the show has touched you very deeply, and it has inspired you to reach out to people again, which you hadn't done in a long time.

George: Wow.

Jayden: Well, we are so, so glad to hear that. I think that is, that is what the show is all about, you know, reaching out to people in times of need, and, you know, creating new friendships, new bonds, and we really hope that that continues for you. And if you ever feel as though, you know, it's kind of doing this... [gestures in a downward trajectory] you have a lovely show back here, and two lovely dead boys here that support you and are proud of you every day, so thank you so much, Nat, take care.

George: Bye Nat!

So I wasn't sure if I was going to share my cameo because it's a little bit more personal towards the end, but I decided I rather wanted to share the video than just transcribe their answers to my questions.

I asked them about their thoughts on Charles and Edwin seeing their reflections in episode 7 and about Edwin's experience as a teenager during WWI.

[tkachukisms]

long time no post... i've had this shit ready to post for like a week. and should've done it then. but uhhh but uhhhh but uuhhhhhhhh. what's the deal with airplane food am i right. | <- omgggg prev

[starflungwaddledee]

offering three cookies 🍪🍪🍪

(<< part 1)

[bolithesenate]

I have. So many questions about your version of Tarre but I will try to keep it short

How did the Mando's react when they found out that he was a Jedi?

How did his first Jedi Master die?

Did Tarre manage to finish the tapestry (the one he was trying to finish before the meeting) before the due date or?

Did Tarre one day look up and ask his close circle of Mandos if he was the Mando'alor and said circle had to awkwardly tell him he had been the Mando'alor for a while and they were technically his advisors?

HOW was your Tarre adopted by the Jedi - assuming he has always been a Mando even if he did practice much of the culture? Did he accidentally run away as a toddler and end up in a cargo ship across the galaxy in enemy zone? Did he accidentally set fire at 3 separate houses in the Vizsla Clan and they decided to set him against the Jedi (and did it work even if only for a temple)? Tell me pleaseeee

Also sorry if this is stupid I assume that Tarre has always been a Mando or is he a convert (and if so was it via the god haunting him or was it after he went on the self-imposed exile while everyone thought he was dead)? I'm asking this to make sure I understood everything correctly

okay okay okay. well, let me preface this with saying that I am 1) INCREDIBLY stoked to see someone as invested in cringefail jedi Tarre as I am and 2) I have an incredibly detailed account of Tarre's life in my mind (that I might one day write down in fic form) so you don't know the beast you just unleashed

how did the Mandos react when they found out he was a Jedi?

well, it depends a bit on which Mando. the guy that for a while was his Alor and then became his second in command figured it out on his own after Tarre was a bit too weird about certain things for a bit too long. He mainly was put out that Tarre never trusted him enough to tell him (even tho Tarre himself probably assumed he'd just left the jedi order at that point). Also, it explained just a lot of the general weirdness of the guy, so if anything it cleared things up.

The rest of their inner circle figured it out some time afterward when Fay just appeared in the middle of their dining room, calling him out on his bullshit. I think they were too mortified to see her immediately do a 180° and start a custody war with a literal force-deity to react, really. And again, Tarre being a Jedi explained more questions than it raised (at that point he'd had probably a literal decade of raking up a history of being That Weird Guy TM)

And the rest of Mandalore's populace... I genuinely think many of them might never have known? At least not during their or Tarre's lifetime?

There might have been rumors, sure, but again, Tarre had already collected a lot of weird ass rumors about him by that time, so it kinda was just another one of those? At least this version of Tarre never went out and proclaimed he was a Jedi in some grand sort way. He was way too busy for that. Which I think would explain quite nicely how all subsequent generations of Mandalorians seem to put all emphasis on Tarre being Mand'alor and never really seem to mention his ties to the Order.

2. How did his first Master die?

His first Master, a rodian crèchemaster named Yuumba Doksa, died on a mission where they were supposed to investigate a sudden epidemic amongst settlers on a newly colonized planet. It turned out to be a bioengineered virus commissioned by the Sith, and despite the Force, Tarre had to watch his Master die before an effective treatment could be found. He himself also got infected with it, but because his genetic material was such a wild blend of things, his immune system was a lot more resistent to the virus.

3. Did Tarre finish the tapestry before the meeting?

No.

In retaliation, he just took his loom to all subsequent ones. That was the first in a long list of Weird Things He Just Does I Guess.

4. Did they have to tell him that?

Of course they did.

Actually, and this is getting down into the nitty gritty of my personal headcanons and worldbuilding around Tarre Vizsla, "Tarre Vizsla" started off as two people: Tarre on one side and Marek Vizsla (his alor-turned-second-in-command) on the other. Through a bit of a miscommunication at some point, the spokesperson persona the both were operating under got the name Tarre Vizsla, even though Tarre at that point wasn't a member of aliit Vizsla. House Vizsla yes, but not the Clan. That came later.

So for way too long Tarre just assumed that all these things they were doing, he was doing under a shared name, sure, but they still were two people and Marek was the higher ranking one of them, so naturally he was the one the Mand'alor title actually belonged to.

Until they all had to tell him that 'no, you idiot, you are the one doing all the work here, it's your position. Marek is just here to yell at people and, if necessary, shoot them.'

5. & 6. I'll have to answer together because they share a lot of commonalities

I'm firmly in camp 'Tarre was a convert' (in the end) (kinda).

It's quite possible that one of his parents was a Mando, simply because of the smoothie blend that his genetic are, but they were not around to make decisions when he first exhibited Force powers. So he went through a normal(ish) jedi childhood (minus the truly being bad at jedi-ing) until he went to ilum and came back with an old god as his saber.

But since this was the old republic and things generally were a lot stranger back then, no one - Tarre included (plus, he still was a child back then u know) - really questioned it. Tarre just was one of those Jedi with a weird colored lightsaber. Happens from time to time, right?

(as for why Kad Ha'rangir chose Tarre... who knows what the gods think, right? especially a god that literally is change. The Force works in mysterious ways)

Him properly becoming a Mandalorian was.... well, who can say when exactly it happened. Maybe he was one from birth, just 'temporarily misplaced' due to external circumstances, maybe he became one when a mandalorian god called dibs on him, maybe it happened when an old weaver lady whose backyard he crashed his shuttle in also called dibs of her own, or it's possible it happened when he got his first set of beskar'gam, or when he officially became mand'alor, or when he properly got adopted into Clan Vizsla or perhaps even at some other, small junction of his truly strange life.

Or maybe it never really happened at all? Who knows. I don't think anyone ever made him swear to the resol'nare (if that even existed in that form back then), they just looked at him and said 'yes, this is what peak mandalorian-ness looks like' o(￣▽￣)👍

(half of them were looking at Marek when they said that. that's why the statues look nothing like Tarre)

And I think if you had asked Tarre at the end of his life what he was, he genuinely might have answered with "a Jedi"? Because that's still the thing he grew up with and he only (temporarily) fled from it due to of his own anxieties. Like. All the work he did on Mandalore was because of the things he learned as a Jedi - to help where he can and strive to make a better galaxy for the people around him.

It just so happened that the people around him technically were the Order's mortal enemies.

[schumi-nadal]

Wow, I didn't think that post would get me even more hate to be honest 😅

First of all, I wasn't talking about ALL Carlos fans but about some "fans" (you can't call them like that, not after the really harsh words I received) who came into my asks when i asked nothing: I never was mean about Carlos, i didn't even defend Charles. I only posted 2-3 things related to this Charlos gate or whatever the fandom is calling it.

Here are some of the posts in questions:

After the first one, I received insults (anons and non anons, I don't know what is worst, that's what I was talking about them being younger and not knowing how the Schumi era and baby Shumi era were, (the non-anos were 17-18) because people misunderstood it (or understood what they wanted to understand).

After one or two more posts after the end of the race, it escalated very quickly, I received death threats! That's very serious! How can it come to this for a FUCKING sport? There are more serious things in life!

So, yeah, I was quite pissed after that.

Also, I didn't even defend Charles in my post, rereading now and I undertand I may have sound like I did but I'm French and I may have translated word by word what i wanted to say (it's a bit complicated but we sometimes use "you" to talk about people + ourserlves in some sketchy expressions). Anyway, what he said was definitely inappropriate and very "childish" in a way. Those words should had been spoken in private with his team and Carlos, not in front of million of people; and I think if FIA penalised swear words, they should start looking at those kind of statements.

Also, for those saying that I would be the kind of person to insult their favorite driver(s), you don't know me, you can even check my blog if you have nothing more interesting to do (lol), I never insulted anyone like some people do in f1blr. We can dislike or even hate a driver with our whole being, that's ok, for each their own I guess. We can't love everyone, you have the right to defend your favs, that's our choice too, but don't go and roast people when they didn't even say something wrong in the first place. (again, i hope those anons are reading it)

I never got haters before today (just one a few months ago with tennisblr but it was more a troll more than anything else) I usually don't interract a lot because I don't like conflicts but receiving multiple insults for something I can't control: I'm not Charles, I can't control what he says, I'm not a Carlos hater neither, i'm just here, blogging and reblogging stuff I love, mostly sports, sometimes with my particular sense of humor.

Nobody is perfect for sure, and I'm sorry if some of you thought I was just calling out Carlos or defending Charles. He may be one of my favourite drivers, just like other drivers can be yours: all of them are not flawless and we may continue to like them or not after different sorts of situations, that's up to us.

To finally finish my thesis (sorry if you're still reading), I didn't know that I would be so stressed on tumblr one day (call me a sensitive person) but this website is my sanctuary, I hope it will stay like that for a very long time but you can't be appreciated by the whole world, I lost some of my mutuals and i accept that. This morning's messages went too far and that's not normal to say thing like that, no matter how peacecul I am, I had to call them out. Also, on my other fandoms, you can share thought without (or almost) getting attacked verbally, that's sad that it's not the same anymore here, but yeah, football is the same.

You can choose to answer or not, I won't block anyone because I don't feel the need to, opinions can be shared but respectfully, I would be happy to talk more if some of you are up to.

So, I don't know what to add, have a great end of the season, everyone!

i don't know if everyone who reblogged or commented can see it when I reblog it so i'm tagging y'all: @midesastremanifiesto , @janesurlife , @gaypoetsblog , @katarf1a , @chaitalinath , @danieldrivesfast , @landhoe-norris , @eightsixtiism

One thing is funny about being insulted by all those Carlos "fans" (won't call them real fans tbh he deserves way better than toxic people): I was already watching F1 that they were not born, if you think that Charles was shitty today, just remember we had Michael Schumacher as the most dramatic queen ever and Sebastian Vettel was a little Gremlin at some points. REAL FANS WERE NOT FIGHTING FOR THAT!