#if so well I guess that furthers my point

[girl-lostconnection]

I just wanna say I love your fruit bat!reader and I just had to think about the boys further misunderstanding when reader maybe has a darker aesthetic, but reader doesn't get at all the connection cause like yeah black's just a neat colour, oh I guess vampires are cool. Wait me? *Mouthful of orange or something* me no fruits all the way? I don't know what you mean.

On one side it would be incredibly funny as misunderstanding but the devil is whispering in my ear so let’s walk the other way.

Imagine Reader freshly selected to join the team, nervous about meeting new people who they read EVERYTHING on, just to be ready.

And no one is hostile, right? They are friendly, almost too friendly, which grates on your nerves a little but you know, maybe you are thinking too much about it?

Works up until the first joke about the vampires, huge wolf operator (you find out later that his call sign is Ghost).

“Know why people don’t like workin’ with vampire bats?”, the question catches you off guard, your eyes snapping to the man’s eyes and you tilt your head to the side. You don’t know him yet, you aren’t sure how much of a reaction is allowed in this circumstance.

“‘Cause they are pain in the neck”, he announces, his brown eyes boring a hole into you, his tail wagging like he is waiting for you to start laughing.

You don’t. You stare right back at him, fingers flexing so the sharp points of your claws dig into your palm and you manage a smile that feels a little too forced.

Big wolf in front of you apparently sees it as well, because you can see the way his jaw flexes under the mask.

So for some reason he decides to give it another go. (Only months later you will find out that Simon was desperately scrambling for all the bat x vampire puns he remembered, thinking that the first one sounded a little too abrasive)

“What drink does bat order at the bar?”, he asks, his left ear giving in a small twitch that catches your eye. He sure is big for the wolf, most of their family you met in the past were tall and lean but this guy is built like a bloody tank.

“What?”, you ask, heart beating a little harder than you’d like it, anxiety coiling in your gut.

“A Bloody Mary”, wolf hums out, his ear giving in another twitch and corners of your mouth curl upwards. Cute.

Wolf’s tail starts to wag again, eyes satisfied as he walks off and you follow him to see your new space and unpack.

Isn’t so bad for the first meeting, right?

But in hindsight every interaction from then on felt…somehow forced. Recurring about blood and meat and fucking Halloween. Remarks about wearing too much black or the way Soap once chuckled at the silver chain with a beautiful red cross. Not a religious symbol but simply an accessory you liked.

It all was piling up so quickly you decided to just…stay on the outside. Maybe that would be better. Maybe they were trying to tell you that they didn’t want a bat and didn’t like bats.

That they didn’t like you.

It takes time to undo and the process is slow — you are a tough nut to crack, but they don’t try to crack you. Just…make amends, yeah?

Your relationship with Simon makes a cycle when he peels you oranges, eyes soft as you devour pieces of peaches.

“Do you know what’s a vegetarian vampire bat’s favourite fruit, luv?”, he hums out, placing a peeled orange in your bowl, something in his tone making you feel fuzzy.

“What is it?”, his tail is wagging and god the way he looks at you makes something tender in your chest ache, you mouth voluntarily falling open when he pushes a piece of peach in it, eyes crinkling.

“A neck-tarine”, Simon murmurs, his tail wagging harder when you laugh after a beat, juices from fruit dripping down your chin.

You shake your head at him in faux disbelief and he grins, popping a slice of orange in his mouth.

“Can do it all night”

You roll your eyes and instinctively smack his hand away when he tries to steal your bowl.

“That’s what I’m afraid of”

[yougavememyopia]

Here's the result from the poll! Sorry, it took long. I lost my progress and had to write it over T-T. Longer than usual to make it up to my lovely peeps. Anyway, here is the confident, popular yandere who becomes a desperate pathetic mess for you.

Popular yandere, who was never alone. Circled with adored gazes and loud chatters, people gathered around him like he was some kind of celebrity. His overstretched smile full of fake glee. Crinkled eyes masking a hollow emptiness. No one would care enough to truly look at him, all too busy talking nineteen to the dozen.

It was so easy to predict them. The mundane topics boring him to death. Nothing exciting ever happened. Gritting his teeth, he endured their ramblings. Endured their dullness. Their stupid problems.

Taps of his pencil slapped the wooden desk rapidly. A practiced, charming grin when he greeted you— his new project partner. The invisible loser at the background whose face he rather recognized.

"Hey there, guess we're partners, huh? What a total unplanned coincidence! Uhh, anyway, you can pick the topic. Nono, please, go ahead. I'll just follow your lead."

His crew strolled passed you in the fields. Always sinked down on the grass with your back against the concrete wall. Blue light reflected on your face, nose buried deep in your phone.

Your lack of a life amused him. Fascinated at how isolated you were, and yet you were beaming. Giggling at your screen while your posture got worse. Not seeming a bit sad about being alone or wasting your time playing on a machine.

Simple enquiring quickly led to obsessive stalking. Justified by stating how he was merely observing you. Interested in your name and your hobbies, what you ate for the day, where you walked when you had no school, how the interior of your home looked like. A bit of curiosity, that was all!

The school project was the key to getting closer to you. Instant refusal to every person coming his way, sweet talking them into grouping together by pointing out their strengths. No objections were made. His judgment very well-trusted. Now you had the idolized annoyance as your group member, exactly like he planned.

FINALLY, he could talk to the nobody persistently invading his mind. The endless thoughts of you giving him heartache. He couldn't get his beauty sleep at night, and when he did, the dreams were all about you. He wasn't normally the type to approach people, not like he had the time to. Every waking moment of his day was stuffed with zealous yet shallow admirers. Everyone loved him. Gawking at his good looks, adoring his style, praising his intelligence.

You didn't even bat an eye.

He was nonexistent to you. Eyes boring into indifference. Frustrated, at how you treated him like he was someone insignificant. People already began to question his strange, out of the blue behaviour. How he stared at the wall without blinking. You were getting the best of him— he couldn't keep his mask on, uncontrollably snapping at people, apologizing as if he was having a bad day. Every day was a bad day. A torturous wait for you to just look his way.

If you didn't notice him anytime soon, he was going to do something crazy.

Thanks to the project, you finally spoke to him. Irritated, sure. But you saw him, a dopey grin on his face when you repeated back his name. Even getting away with patting your shoulder. He greeted you in the hallways the day after, approached you during lunch the next week, and then started to text you like crazy the following month. No idea how clingy he was acting until you pointed it out. Falling more in love with your weirdness and hidden personality.

You acted uncertain towards him. Hesitant that this was a prank. Afraid that you'd become a laughing stock if this progressed any further. So you built a metaphorical wall between you.

Questions after questions overwhelmingly flooded his brain. Your behaviour much different than the way he was used to being treated. Sarcastic remarks and harsh dismissals hurt his poor, sad heart.

He started to crave even the slightest approval from those around him— what did they think of his carefully picked outfit? Or his light makeup and shiny hair? He needed you to drool over him like the rest of the school did, yet you still didn't trust him. Accusing him of being fake, when all he wanted was to befriend you.

"B-but I swear, I genuinely want to be your friend. Please, listen. I can be myself around you. I don't have to be perfect, y'know? I thought you'd understand..."

As you grew more doubtful of his intentions, he became more hopeless. Desperate to change your mind while fighting the insecurity that loomed over him.

You pushed him to completely give in to the urge to follow you home and watch over you from a distance. He'd ask his many connections to keep an idea on you when he couldn't, but since their questions and teasing and judgement would get on his nerves, he settled for a tracking device instead. The digital dot always beeping in the same, familiar spots on the map.

His mind jumbled into a chaotic mess. Your dislike for him beyond his comprehension. All he ever did was be nice, so why did you not give him the time of day? Gifts nor compliments, nothing was good enough for you. He had never did anything like this before. Chase after someone. Love, actually love someone.

For your attention, he was willing to do whatever.He longed to be useful to you. Be at your beck and call at any time like a loyal dog. Everything from your terrible posture to your poor diet to your sleep schedule, he could take care of it. He could take care of you.

In the end, he had no patience, he couldn't stand the wait— he had to ask you out. A spontaneous minute that he wished he could take back. Stutters left his lips while he tried to make the date sound super romantic. Roses, candle lit dinner, moonlight. A perfected plan delivered with anxious jitter. Red face burning hotter than glowing coals and big, round eyes awaited the response.

"Eh... no thanks."

His eyes twitched. You were a loser! A common known label that he hated to use. But how could you turn down the first guy who pursued you? Choosing fictional anime crushes over a live flawless boy pleading for a date. How long were you going to stay in your lonely shell as a kissless virgin?

His determination didn't waver. He was willing to do anything to win you over. Countless attempts turned down due to excuses. Weeks after weeks of him chasing after you. You were driving him insane. Like you were doing this on purpose. "No?!? W-Wha... Why not? You don't want to go outside, you don't want to come to my place, why... Why can't I come to yours? I-I don't care if it's messy or if it s-smells. I actually love it. Um, I just need a chance, please. I need to prove to you that my love is real."

How did he end up being the one begging at your feet? Fingers clenching around your calves, while he looked up with a shameful blush on his face. Embarrassing himself in front of everyone he knew. Their gasps and murmurs ringing through his ears. Humiliation turning his body weak. Hot unwanted tears flooding his vision. He didn't care— he couldn't take the rejection anymore.

"Please believe me, please. It hurts so bad. Ah, I can't breathe. I love you so much. Pleasepleaseplease don't push me away. Don't cast me aside. I want to be with you. I want to be with you..."

He could barely make out your face with the fat tears rolling down his cheeks. His forehead rested on your knee, his head down as if waiting a death sentence. It was getting more awkward the longer he stayed on his knees. Yet he stayed glued to the harsh, cold floor. He'd never felt emotions to this level of intensity before you came. The hurt tightening his chest. A vice grip clamping down to crush his lungs.

Rubbing the back of your neck, you sighed. Feeling bad about the dishevelled flawed mess he turned into. Sweat worked up on your skin from the many eyes staring at the scene.

"You won't stop until I say yes, huh? I guess you proved you were telling the truth. So, fine. Let's get going now... You brought quite the audience here."

"..." His head remained stuck against your knees. Hands shaking against your legs while he exhaled. Not budging at all. The hushed whispers exchanged in the background making your blood boil. "What are you guys staring at? Scram! Go away! Leave him alone."

And they slowly faded one by one. You ran a hand through the soft, silky hair of the needy boy. More attentive to the mess on the floor to care about your surroundings anymore. Sitting on the floor beside him, you lazily wrapped his arms around your neck. A finger pressing his chin up so you could take a good look at him. He sniffed. Eyes all puffy and red. A deprived beg escaping his glossy lips.

"Please... I—"

You cut him off with a small smile. "You can hug me until you're satisfied. I'll be here."

Arms tangled tighter around you. Head tilted in, and you realized what this meant. A hint of anxiety bursted butterflies your stomach. But you went for it. Suppressing the flinch and moving in. Eyes half-lidded when velvety flesh met. Low hum buzzing from him. He pulled you closer and closer. Lips parted while you snaked your tongue into his mouth. A loud moan met your eardrums. Your little theory of him wanting you to take charge confirmed correct.

He melted like butter despite how you barely knew what you were doing. Uneven movements and unsure licks were just met with pathetic whimpers. Each stroke of saliva making him hot and dizzy. You had a way of making him unbelievably sensitive. No clue to why he felt like this was his first real kiss too. Never understanding the fuss about this pleasant feeling until now.

He pulled back for breathe much too soon, and panted against your face. "I'm so glad we found each other, darling. C-can I call you that? Since I'm your b-boyfriend now... Right?"

You didn't answer. He didn't give you a chance to. Another peck was placed on your lips. Desperate tongue reaching to wet your lips while you cupped his face. Hands grabbing your wrists to ensure you keep them there. Determination ran through him; He was going to plead and plead until you finally gave in.

[starboye]

starring: pornstar!johnny cage x male reader

request: HIHIHI I physically need this for my soul, I've been giggling my ass off with my friends ever since we thought of it, I need a pornstar!johnny cage fic w drool Pretty please

warnings: smut, rough sex, drinking, drool, jerking off, ass slapping, daddy kink, dirty talk, overstimulated slightly, creampie, unprotected sex

directors note: while making this i did base it off a certain twitter pornstar, can you guess who it is

you first got in the porn industry after some friends said you had the perfect face and body for it, so you did, starting up your own onlyfans where you quickly gained traction, people started wanting to see you collab with other stars in the porn community so you did, collaborating with more and more until you got a dm from a certain popular fucker.

the johnny cage dmed you asking if you were down to make a video with him and you were quick to agree, meeting up with him one day at his rather lavish apartment that over looked the city "i hope the drive here was good" he said from the kitchen making drink for the both of you "it was okay" you chuckle "well i hope a cocktail can calm your nerves" he hands you a glass and down his before you do the same.

now im gonna be real taking a shot of liquor might be one of the greatest ideas or stupidest because in no time he had you arched in front of the camera fucking you like there was no tommorow, you see why the others in his videos always moaned so loudly, he felt so good sliding in and out of your hole.

"keep looking at the camera for me pretty" he grunted pulling your hair to keep your face from falling into the pillows constantly while his other arm flexed at the camera, his hips constantly snapping into your aching ass.

"you like this dick" he asked "yessss" you whine out feeling your eyes roll back further "yes what" he growls smacking your ass "yes sir i love your fat cock so fucking much" you moan, a little bit of drool falling from the corner of your lips as your mouth lolls open unable to stop the slew of moans and other profanities.

"good boy now throw that ass back on my dick" he stops thrusting, desperate for more you start slowly moving your ass back and forth but with a few slaps on the ass from johnny you're quick to speed it up "yeah good fucking boy" he smirks, turning you over to start making out with you.

his hips starting to move on their own, fucking you while he jerked you off, edging you just to the point of cumming just to stop, getting you right there to cum with him "please joh-" you beg "ah ah that's not my name baby boy" he tuts correcting you "please daddy i wanna cum so bad" you weakly moan through messy wet kissing.

"just a little longer for me" he coos kissing down your neck and all across your chest, tongue flicking your sensitive perky nipple making you jolt up a little, his grip tightening around your cock a little before he cums in you, painting you tight gummy walls white while you came in his hand.

"shit you fuck good" you laugh coming down from your high "thank you, and you know how to take a dick damn well" he drops his head next to yours before looking up at the camera and cutting it "now how about we have a fuck sesh to ourselves" he suggests "im down" you smirk, you'll def be limping out of here by next morning.

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @znerac @inhumanshadows

[sabine-smitten-obviously]

Good Omens - January reads part #2 - fanfics recs 🤓🩷

Follow along for short summaries and recs on the books i read🩷 The numbers are for funsies - i want to count my reads throughout 2025.

I only read finished stories and one-shots. You will find no WIPs in here. Also you will only find happy or at least hopeful endings here - i couldn´t handle anything else.

Also i try to find every author here on tumblr to link-to, but some times i am out of luck. If you happen to know them, please tell them, write to me in the comments or DM me and i will update the post!

Ratings in ()

Multichapterfics

13] Or Be Nice (E) by @charlottemadison42

Aziraphale ist happy to move into his new appartment in Soho after his breakup. What he is not so happy about is the noise nuisance of a neighbour he has, who likes to play his drums in the middle of the night. When the nice and polite way of finding a solution through talking seems futile, its time to try another way.

One of the best enemies-to-lovers human Au i ever read, a classic must-read for everyone in the fandom. The banter is hilarious!

Best laugh:

Aziraphale: "You can walk."

Crowley: "Allegedly." 😂

14] Any foolish Thing (E) by @caedmonfaith

Human Au. Crowley is a lawyer - and a real asshole. His businesspartner threatens to cancel their partnership unless Crowley takes a month off. So Tadfield it is. Surprised by sudden rain he stumbles into a shop full of books and candies. You'll never guess who the owner is. 😉

15] Arise my Darling and go forth (E) by @naromoreau

Human Au. Father Aziraphale likes his perish and is shocked to learn that a second priest will join him. But father Crowley is rather pleasant to be with and soon they both find themselves questioning ... everything.

The story takes turns in the POV and lets the reader glimpse into their inner turmoil - they are men of God, after all. Beautiful language and art! 🩷

This wonderful art is unrelated, but i am so in awe with it that i wanted to share it. You will find it here and it is by @flypanegg88 !

16] Epistolary (E) by @maaikeatthefullmoon aka Imposterssyndrome

Set after the end of S2, Crowley discovers Aziraphales diaries in the bookshop. He learns like A LOT about how the angel feels and their missunderstandings throughout the centuries. As he can´t talk to Aziraphale any more, Crowley starts a diary as well.

This is part-1 of a series!

17] 1888 (T) by Imposterssyndrome aka @maaikeatthefullmoon

Technically a oneshot but it is part of this series. 1888 is a diary-entry of our angel about this one time he tried to learn the gavotte.

Can be read as a stand-alone but probably doesnt make any sense without

18] The Angel Miscalculated (E) by @imposterssyndrome aka @maaikeatthefullmoon

This is part 3 of Epistolary, we get to know Aziraphale´s point of view while up in heaven.

The whole series ends practically in between S2 and S3. I don´t know whether further installments are planned - but i´ve got you covered!!

19] And i did [E] by @di-42

This is so funny, i was the beta for this story and it fits perfectly after the end of part-3 of Epistolary (see above). This story starts out with Aziraphale up in heaven and Crowley being the Grand Duke of Hell. They are on opposite sites - aren´t they?

"The angel deserved to know how marvellous he was being and how enraptured he was making Crowley feel.

“Angel... ngk... fuck!” he squealed. Nailed it, Crowley, well done." 😂

20] Aziraphale´s naked man friend [M] by @naughtyspirit

Set between S1 and S2, Aziraphale opens to door of his bookshop to find a naked Crowley outside. The demon has lost the memory of the last 24 hours and together they go on a quest to find out what has happened. If they happen to choose a "date" as cover-up for their investigations, it is only because it would help their quest. Of course.

Very funny and nice read, biggest laugh: "Once a wily serpent, always able to wiggle."

Oneshots

21] Bless you (T) by @terrorandchaos

Its been a nice afternoon in the bookshop. That is, until Crowley sneezes and Aziraphale mindlessly says "Bless you." To a demon.😅

22] Strokes make clean the innermost parts (E) by @depraveddame

Father Crowley feels the need to punish himself after a night with his gardener Aziraphale. Things do not go as planned ... pls do mind the tags!!! 🌶️

23] The co-pilot (e) by @e-rated-beardo

Human Au. When policeofficer Aziraphale sits in the Pub on a friday evening, he is quite happy to see his friend Crowley joining him for a pint. Though - honestly - the bottle of wine Aziraphale has up his flat light be a better idea. 😁

24] A wish your heart made (G) by @avoicebehindthestars

Set after they averted the second coming. Crowley asks Aziraphale about their future.

Be careful with this one and do mind the tags - this is my big exception from the "only good endings"-list. Still - worth a read! 💔

25] My songs know what you did in the dark (E) by @hazelsage

Aziraphale learns that humans fear dangling their legs out of bed, because a demon might lurk underneath and grab them. He tells Crowley about this ridiculous fear. And dangles a leg out of bed that night. 😉

26] You're Back (T) by @avoicebehindthestars

35 years after hell has taken him, Crowley finds himself back in London with a splitting headache, unable to do anything but lay still in the ground. Aziraphale finds him and helps him recover. 🩷So tender!

27] If you were church, i'd Go down in my knees [E] by @hazelsage

When Crowley gets to watch an angry Aziraphale defending his bookshop against measly investors, he only knows one way of worshipping his Angel. 🌶️

28] Hot Whiskey Eyes [E] by @hazelsage

Sometimes Crowley needs his mouth stuffed to be able to shut up his incessantly brain. Thankfully Aziraphale likes to help. 🌶️

Reading keeps me sane. Thank you all for writing! 🩷🤗

[zarvasace]

Description under cut. Aconite explodes. He can sure curse.

Masterpost for these guys

This comic is done in a sketchy, uncolored style with small-ish words and a light blue background.

Page One

Panel one: a hawk flies through the air and clouds and mountains. A pop-out panel shows an arrow flying through the air.

Panel two: this shows three people. On the left is Aconite (Acon), who wears a loose tunic and has a shy posture. In the middle is Malachite (Mal) who wears a quilted gambeson and has curly hair. His left arm appears to be missing. On the right sits Talon, who looks disgruntled. The bandage around his right eye isn't abnormal, but the sling on his left arm is. Mal speaks. “With Talon's wing—er, arm—shot out, we’re down a fighter. Looks like we'll be here for a few days… …which means we'll need to hunt or forage.”

Panel three: Same shot of Talon, but he's talking and gesturing over his shoulder, and the camera has moved to show the pile of supplies behind him.

“Hunting will be best, up this way,” he says. “Lots to shoot at.”

Someone off screen says snrk.

Talon continues. “Yeah, yeah. You can use my bow. Just gotta string it.”

Page Two

Panel one: Acon and Mal, in the same positions as before. Mal says, “That means you, Acon.”

“Me?” Acon replies.

“Unless you want to give the big, powerful, pointy thing to Link.”

Panel two: Link sits on the ground cross-legged, not doing much. A little arrow points to him and says: dead. Mostly inanimate.

Off screen, Mal and Acon continue to argue.

“He has a sword, Mal.”

“Do you think he could catch a rabbit or a pheasant with it?”

“…could you?”

Panel three: Mal puts his hand on his face in exasperation. “Yes—no—hold on. That isn't the point.”

Acon walks past him with a little smile. “I know. I'll do it.”

Panel four: full body shot of Acon in front of pine trees and forests. He holds an unstrung bow. He says, “Nice bow, Talon. What is it, a 30 lb?”

“40,” says Talon off screen.

“I could add some runes to it.”

“Food first, Acon.”

Page three

Panel one: Acon steps on one side of the bow and bends over to string it, which involves physically bending the wood enough. There's a little “tug tug” sound effect.

Panel two, a circle horizontally: Acon's face is surprised, with a “!?” effect.

Panel three: the same as panel one, but Acon is visible working a little harder now. The effect is in all caps: “TUG TUG.”

Panel four: A close up shot of Acon’s face, flushed and scowling. He his holding the unstrung bow horizontally.

“I can't do it…? >:(!” [mad face emoticon]

Panel five: Mal sitting cross-legged on the ground while watching, with Talon still sitting on his rock and talking.

“Acon, that thing is powerful enough that even my uncle has trouble. Don't be so bothered. I should have snares, too.”

Panel six: a further zoom in on Acon’s face. His scowl has lightened just a little. “I used to wear golden plate mail,” he says.

Page four

Panel one: Talon and Mal still sitting down. Talon winces and says, “That sounds.. . Ridiculous—”

“—ly unlikely…” Mal adds, smaller and presumably quieter.

Panel two: a big exclamation interrupts the panel. BY ALL THAT’S CRUSTY AND MOLDY!

Panel three: We see Acon from behind, throwing his hands up into the air and yelling into the sky. His words cover him and fill the whole panel:

By Hylia’s own hairy back, I can't believe my own incompetence—I might as well be wielding a tiny tin spoon instead of a weapon! Every sewage-filled, ridiculous year has conspired to rob me of any inflated ego I might ever have had—even a drunk Great Fairy would have trouble wiping more excrement over her life than I’ve clearly let you-know-who do! I'm a snivelling little Deku Scrub at a Goron wrestling match, to tried to absolutely nothing and burning enough that even a half-blind carpenter couldn't make paper out of me! Guess I'm safe from flesh-eating zombies! I'm a legend, all right—

Panel four: Talon and Mal again, both looking startled. “…who knew he had it in him?” Mal says.

White lines show Link as a ghost giving a thumbs-up and a big smile.

The end!

[akitossohma]

heyy i love love love your post about lg’s morals you truly read the tea leaves with that one!!! i do disagree with what you said about lg being amoral tho i feel amoral suggests he isn’t aware of morals but he definitely is, and u did point that out in your post! no hate at all btw

hi!! thank you for your kind words :3. i believe you are referring to this post

this got very long and accidentally turned into a whole meta on lu guang and vein lmaoo. answer under the cut:

yeah honestly in retrospect i do feel that my use of the word "amoral" was a bit clumsy lol. this post is nearly a year old so it's hard to recall specifics but i think at the time i failed to consider the full definition of the word, which is not only a disregard for morals but also a lack of moral sense to begin with. and like you said, my own posts contradict that, as lg is shown to be well aware of the moral code. i also was trying to use it as like, a middle ground i guess? between moral and immoral. like my "at best" addition was me trying to be generous, but upon reflection that's sort of a false dichotomy.

for some context, the post you are referencing got posted to twitter (something i didn't know until ppl told me) and was lowkey a hit tweet (a bit scary ngl), and while most people agreed, a small handful Did Not Like it haha

interestingly, a couple of the tweets disagreeing did focus heavily on both the "amoral" thing and me saying lg wasn't a morally grey anti hero. bc i don't want to debate on twitter, i'm gonna take advantage of this ask to explain myself further hehe

DISCLAIMER: what follows is my current perspective and analysis based on available information. i understand everything i have said already and will continue to say going forward could be proven wrong in future seasons.

the main criticism i saw (again this was only like, three people, but still) was that i "disagreed with him being a morally grey anti hero but then proceeded to describe just that". i do understand why this was some people's take away bc the terms "morally grey" and "antihero" have kind of been blurred over the years. since i am by no means the final word on how these terms are to be used, all i can do is provide my understanding of the terms:

morally grey = a character whose actions are morally ambiguous

antihero = a character whose actions/traits are often questionable, but who, at the end of the day, can still be classified as a hero rather than a villain

based on my understanding of the terms (which does seem to coincide with formal definitions), lu guang would not be morally grey as i feel his actions are explicitly immoral (immoral = when the character's actions are definitively wrong and violate a pre-established moral code - i touch on this more in this post) and he would not be an antihero as i feel he cannot be classified as heroic in the grand scheme of things. yes he is complex, yes he is sympathetic, yes he has a capacity for kindness/selflessness and is largely motivated by love, but none of those things make him an antihero. if that were the case, any well written villain would be a antihero haha.

there's a whole other added layer of complexity here because lg is a) not the antagonist and b) not the story villain. for the sake of this argument, the "story villain" is defined as the individual who is the villain only in framing, whereas the "real villain" is defined as the individual who is unequivocally in the wrong by real-world moral standards. the same differentiator can be applied to heroes. so when i say lg cannot be considered heroic, that is what i am referring to. furthermore, vein and liu xiao, who appear to be working together, are currently both the antagonists and the story villains, but that is mostly due to us being anchored in lg's perspective. we don't know much about their motives/goals other than a) they want to maintain the timeline ("make the uncertain, certain") and b) they want csx dead. we of course root against them because csx is the hero & protagonist of our story, and bc they have proven to have very questionable morals themselves. however, based on the information currently available, i’d argue that it's possible to interpret them as very morally grey antiheroes in the grand scheme of things. we already know that they are working against lg because lg has disrupted the timeline and compromised the "certainty" liu xiao mentions. they will (most likely) always be the antagonists, but it would not take much reframing for them to no longer be strictly villains, if that makes any sense. ProWritingAid puts this distinction very succinctly: "A story's villain is always an antagonist, but not every antagonist needs to be a villain." imo the only "hero" this story has is csx, and i have a feeling he will remain that way, though like all things i've said, this could change.

and that leads me to my final point. i am well aware that the show initially frames lg as a hero and hasn’t fully positioned him as a villain yet. however, in my opinion, the ending of bridon arc marked a shift in how he is being framed within the narrative. i want to make it clear my posts have been less about the show's current framing and more about analyzing the ethics of lu guang's actions through an objective, real-world lens. and playing around with some reframing hypotheticals of course. this is something that unfortunately got lost along the way.

anyways, i don't mind it if people disagree or have additional perspectives, but some of the critiques felt like they were missing the point in one way or another. and some of them were straight up rude. sorry for this whole essay, i hope you don't mind!

[cheshireliam]

"My Ideal Life of A Doting Love" Story Event: Chapter 1

Azel Radwan

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

After some time of living together with Tanzanite's Living God in a isolated castle in the desert—

I noticed something strange about my lover.

…

Emma: Prince Aze— I mean, Azel. Lunch is ready…

Emma: … What are you doing?

Despite having retired from his duties as Living God and supposedly enjoying a peaceful life, Azel was sitting at his desk and reading a book upside down.

Azel: Isn't it obvious?

Emma: No, it's not. Is that how that book is meant to be read?

Azel: Oh.

As if he had only just realised that the book was upside down, he nonchalantly flipped it right side up and cleared his throat.

(Something's not right. He was definitely up to something before I came, wasn't he?)

Azel: Wrong.

Emma: What kind of excuse is that?

Azel: More importantly, I'm hungry. I thank the ever-dedicated Emma for today's meal.

(… It's bothering me.)

…

On another night,—

(… Mm… I'm awake…)

When I woke up while it was still dark outside, I noticed Azel wasn't next to me.

I sat up and looked around to see that the balcony window was left slightly ajar.

Sitting by the window, illuminated by the massive moon worshipped by the people of Tanzanite, Azel was engrossed in reading a book. He was dressed in his familiar divine robes because as he always said, "it's best to wear comfortable clothes at night".

He didn't to seem to notice I was awake.

(He looks so serious.)

Although I was mesmerised by his beautiful profile under the moonlight, I quietly slipped out of bed.

I crept closer to him silently, but right when I was about to reach him, Azel turned to face me.

Azel: Are you an assassin or something?

Emma: You noticed.

Azel: Of course I did.

He claimed that he noticed me approaching, but he hurriedly shut the book and hid it behind his back.

Regardless of whether he realised this or not, his behaviour only made me all the more suspicious.

Emma: What book were you reading?

Azel: … A highly classified document related to national secrets. If an outsider saw it, I couldn't let them live.

Emma: Reading something so important at this late hour?

Azel: Is there a problem?

Emma: Azel… has anyone ever told you you're bad at keeping secrets?

Azel: Never. If anyone dared to, they'd be thrown into a nightmare so torturous they'll never wake again.

Azel stood, effortlessly scooped me up in his arms and tossed me onto the bed.

I tried protesting that our conversation wasn't over, but before I knew it, I was swiftly wrapped in a blanket and completely immobilised.

Azel: Go to sleep. You will sleep right now. Immediately.

Emma: I'm wide awake.

Emma: … Maybe I'll fall asleep if you sing me a lullaby.

Azel: What age toddler are you?

Emma: There are adults who fall asleep to music too, you know?

Azel: … Why would a god bother to know the customs of mere human beings?

(If I say this, he'll definitely get annoyed and give up on making me sleep.)

(Then I can press him further about that book��)

Just as I was getting ready to interrogate him, Azel started singing with an awful facial expression.

The lyrics didn't sound like they belonged to any modern language, so I couldn't understand them, but his deep and calm voice sang so beautifully and soothingly it felt almost magical.

(I didn't think he'd actually sing. He's surprisingly good at it too.)

(… He looks really embarrassed… but this is exactly what makes him so…)

(Oh well. I guess I'll let him off the hook tonight because of this song.)

…

However, Azel's suspicious behaviour continued.

… To the point where I began to worry he might be dealing with a serious problem.

…

Emma: You're coming clean about everything today, Azel.

Azel was acting strange that day too, sneaking around in the hallway.

Determined not to let him slip away, I spread my arms wide and blocked his path.

Azel: What's this about…? "Come clean"? I haven't done anything.

Emma: That's a lie. You threw something out of the window the moment you saw me, didn't you?

Azel: It was trash.

Emma: Then I'll go pick it up.

Azel: No need.

Emma: …

Azel: …

(We're just going in circles at this rate.)

Emma: Azel—

At the same time I opened my mouth to put an end to this, Azel grabbed my hand and pushed me against the wall.

(!?)

With both my hands pinned, I was caught between Azel and the wall.

(… What's this all of a sudden?)

His mysterious eyes resembling a night sky full of stars gazed deep into mine.

His beautiful hair, shimmering dreamily under the sunlight, gently brushed against my cheek.

(He might be able to hear my heartbeat from this close…)

Azel: …

Emma: … Uhh…

Azel: …

Emma: Azel?

Azel: …

Emma: "Damn it… I pinned her against the wall without thinking, and now I have no idea how to explain myself."

Azel: That's not it. Stop doing that annoyingly accurate impersonation.

Emma: Yeowch!

After giving my cheek a hard pinch, Azel gently rested his forehead against mine and sighed.

Azel: It's just—…

[ruershrimo]

take me back (take me with you) | f. megumi x fem! reader | chapter 9: you'll hate me

ao3 link for additional author’s notes | playlist | prev | m.list

chapter synopsis:

“You’ll hate me once you see what happened.”

“No, Megumi, I won’t,” you reassure him, “And anyway, things are different now, too.”

---

You could never hate him. After years of waiting to see Tsumiki again, you can finally do so now. Yet still, there's a sombreness in the air, and Megumi won't let you place a finger on it just yet.

word count: ~3k; tws: none for now ^-^

short a/n: hi everyone! I'm so sorry this took so so long, I really missed you all a lot. basically, school and life got a bit busy, but I'm happy to say I'm back now :). I've written an update here where I just talked about some matters regarding the series and my writing. you can read it if you'd like, because personally I think it's quite important for you to do so if you read this fic :)

28-6-2018 

“Morning. Did you sleep well?” 

Megumi moves the blanket away from him, blinking sleep out of his eyes still. You hoist yourself up until your back is against the headboard. 

“The blanket wasn’t here before I fell asleep, I think,” he voices out, nearly inaudible, drenched in the aftermath of a deep slumber, “Did you—” 

You nod your head.  

“...thanks.” 

At this moment, it’s as if nothing exists. Just you and him and the sky at blue hour, on his bed doing something that people who are just friends shouldn’t do. The urge to trace over his face— over his shut eyelids and sharp nose and thin lips— clings to you like a second nature, one which you never thought you had. There’s hair on his head like a nest you’re itching to touch, spiky and jet black like blades of grass. 

You’ve seen this kind of movie before, felt these feelings with your best friend, no less— and now they’ll eat you up from the inside like bacteria on a rotting fruit. Because feeling like this means feeling everything else assault you all at once: you don’t know if you'd like to bury your face into something and scream, or cry from the fact that it may be unrequited, or jump around in joy for everything good Megumi has done for you. 

But forget the sorcerers, forget the healing, forget the cursed techniques and the need to be useful and needed for one second, forget your parents, forget Tsumiki, even— and you can’t believe you thought that. What can they offer which you can’t find next to him, right now, on a warm twilight with cold blankets and pillows? 

There are so many things you have wanted. But right now, just this is enough. 

“Sometimes I regret talking about how I feel, being emotional and things like that— to the point that if I feel things strongly, these days I try not to show them. It’s… the vulnerability, I guess. Letting your walls down. I know it sounds super cliche, and I know that about 80% of the time I probably fail at this, and that it’s not always good being like that—” stirring him further into consciousness, “—but I think you’re the same, just in a different way. You don’t like talking about your feelings. Still, I have to say, I really enjoy this, these things we do.” 

His gaze stays locked on yours, and silence fills the air again; nothing but steady breathing. You wonder, if there’s anything he thinks about when he’s alone on mornings like these, whether he thinks about you. 

“So do I.” 

The girls’ and boys’ bathrooms are right next to each other. So at 4 in the morning, when everyone else is still asleep and the sun is yet to rise, you bump into Megumi after brushing your teeth. 

“Not going to shower?” he asks. 

“The sound will travel and it may wake the others up. What about you?” 

“I don’t shower in the mornings, only at night.” 

“Oh, right.” 

He pauses for a while, makes a little sound to fill in the gaps of his hesitation. You wait for him patiently. “Tsumiki… I can let you know about what happened to her. The truth is, she—” 

“Take your time,” you interrupt him. You aren’t stupid; something bad must have happened to her for him to be like this. Any slither of hope you have left that she’s all fine and good was used to play dumb and deny yourself the truth. 

“...let me take you there. To where she is.” 

For more than half your life, Tsumiki’s been a constant. As you moved around and floated between friend groups, you felt lonely in every waking moment; only wishing for the days when you had Tsumiki and Megumi again. That was the impact they had on you. So after such a long wait, your heart leapt with joy at the thought of seeing her again. 

“Okay.” 

“Actually, do they not have a curfew? It’s only 5 am,” you say as the two of you are on the sidewalk, next to each other; not with either of you in front of the other. You pull the strap of your bag up every time it slips down. 

“They do, but it’s only until 4 in the morning. It’s not as if it’ll be easy for sorcerers to obey a curfew anyway, so the teachers don’t really check if everyone is observing everything,” he explains, “Hey, I can hold your bag for you, you know—” 

“I’ll be fine.” 

“It looks heavy. It’ll hurt, and I don’t mind carrying it for you for a while. How many things are in there, actually—?” 

“... I do try to pack minimalistically. I don’t have many things in it. I don’t know why it does this.” 

“Let me hold it.” 

“...okay. Thank you. But next time, you don’t have to.” 

“I really don’t mind. It’s uh… like what you said. We take care of each other.” 

“I’m surprised you still remember that,” you note, chuckling, “In that case I should try to take care of you more.” 

“...you’re already doing more than enough.” 

“Hope I’m not being too much, then,” you joke, and your voice sounds a little too fond as you hear it exit your mouth, “I’ll start doubling down from now on.” 

A small part of you wants to indulge yourself; to imagine him doing this for you always. To feel the extent of the things he can do for you, and to want to do the same. 

You hand him the bag. There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips. 

You have a problem here. You’re in deep, aren’t you? 

The two of you had decided not to phone up anyone who could drive you there, nor were you able to take public transport from the school’s campus to your destination. In truth, you had no idea why it seemed that he and you were being secretive about it, but since you weren’t sure if whatever happened to Tsumiki was something Megumi wanted others to know yet, you obliged him. 

“Where are we headed to, actually?” 

“...the hospital.” 

“...what?” 

“...you’ll see. I’ll be able to explain once we get there.” 

It’s as if the expression on his face is written in a language you can’t understand. 

It only spurs your worry— what happened to Tsumiki? You’d wanted so badly to see her again and speak to her ever since she stopped all contact with you. The whole time you’d thought she was just busy, or that she would speak to you again soon, as if she were some constant who you couldn’t imagine being absent from your life due to sickness or injury. It hadn’t even occurred to you, that after you checked in on her and hadn’t even seen that she’d read those messages. To you she was a constant, and she’d always come back. You couldn’t imagine a life without her doing so. 

First your mother, and now Tsumiki. 

“The whole time I thought she just decided to… stop talking to me for a while.” 

“If anything was done to her, she would have told you, provided that she could. You weren’t an afterthought to her. She loved you. I… it was my fault, that after everything happened, I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. I’m sorry.” 

She loved you?

“I still don’t know what happened. I mean, don’t blame yourself—” 

A car passes by and the two of you cross the road. His hand hovers near your back at the end of it, when the pedestrian traffic light goes red and the cars move rapidly behind you. You pretend his actions aren’t blowing up fireworks inside you. 

“No, you called me, right? You even tried to reach me, and… after all I did and how I acted… it wasn’t the right thing to do. But I chose not to call you.” 

You remember when you did, remember how it stung. 

He’s not the only one keeping secrets. You’ve got the letter and the years of yearning you want to let him know about. Yet it would feel like betrayal to yourself, even with the guilt you have from always keeping them. You’re not sure if that guilt is for him or you. 

“But you apologised for all of that, and, well— I think I’m mostly fine with it now. It was just… circumstance, I guess. Especially because it was Tsumiki. Not sure what happened to her, but I mean… if it was just what was happening at that time, even if it may frustrate me, I just have to accept it,”  you explain yourself, speaking from your chest. 

“You’ll hate me once you see what happened.” 

“No, Megumi, I won’t,” you reassure him, “And anyway,  things are different now, too.” You’ve got more control over your technique, fine-tuned it with practice and determination. You may still be weak at times: you may struggle to heal severe injuries or may get a nosebleed when you’ve pushed yourself too far and tried to heal bruises on four hours of sleep, but you’ve improved.

“No— I’ve hidden it for so long, I don’t know—” 

“I mean, look, we all have our secrets. Sometimes we have them even if we don’t want or have to. You don’t have to be privy to all of myself, especially what I try to keep hidden, but if both of us ever want to… we can always take one step at a time, and I think we’re doing that quite well, in my opinion. Besides, you’re here now. And now that we’re both on campus it’s going to be even harder to get away from me.” 

He stops in his tracks all of a sudden. You do, too. The words come floundering out of his mouth. “[Name]... I don’t know the… ‘right’ way to say this, but I don’t want to get away from you.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, I never did.” 

“Huh.” 

He hums.

“…me neither,” you coax out of yourself. 

“...there’s a floral shop nearby. I usually get her some flowers.”  

It’s time to get your mother some flowers, too. 

The florist there greets the two of you with a wistful smile, and says that she hasn’t seen Megumi in a while. Megumi introduces you as a childhood friend. 

“What do you usually get?” you ask. 

“Lilies, usually. Carnations and daisies, sometimes, too.” 

You’ve only bought flowers to pay respects to the deceased, at least when it was you buying them and not Yuuji. You’d never met your grandfather, but back when your parents still called you their little girl, your father would bring you to the temple where his ashes were kept every year. You’d see that photo of his face, smiling in black and white, next to your grandmother on their wedding day, and you’d notice how your father prayed before it. He’d replace the flowers— carnations, lilies, daisies, and tell you all the anecdotes he had with his father growing up. You’d gaze at the chrysanthemums and carnations with their honey-hued petals, at the lilies and daisies in their clear glass vases, and you’d think of how pretty they were. You think your grandfather would have liked them, his smile a spitting image of your father’s and a spitting image of yours. 

“Those are her favourite, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“They suit her. It’s a perfect match, because— well, to me, I always thought of parts of her as different things. Her kindness and the joy she shared with other people were cherries. Her hair was brown, so I’d think of chestnuts and that reminded me of Christmas with her, or mont blanc desserts. And her smile was like a flower to me, a bouquet of lilies. At first I only thought that it was because she was pretty and one of the sweetest people I knew, but now it’s more than that— wait, sorry, I’m rambling.”

“No, no— it’s okay,” he replies, almost immediately. 

“I’m just excited, is all.” 

He sighs, though you don’t know why. “Then you’ll want to scream at me,” he begins, “…I’m sorry. You’re excited and I just… I’m sorry. You’ll understand when we’re there.” 

You want to hold him. Tell him that it’s okay. Tell him that no matter what, you could never hate him. That you’d never had the power to, ever since you met him on that spring day. 

He chooses one bouquet on display, then heads over to the cashier. You don’t think you’ll be able to hold him at all, today. Or he won’t let you, his walls barring you from him, even when you thought many of them were already gone. You’d been so stupid, thinking the two of you were getting closer, but there was still so much more you had to learn about him now. There was still so much more you had to wait for, until he was willing to take them down. 

“Have you known her for a long time?” you ask, exiting the shop. He bought two— one from him and one from you. 

“Ever since Tsumiki got admitted.” 

“I can pay you back for the bouquets, by the way,” you suggest. 

“It’s fine.” 

“Gojo’s money?” 

“Gojo’s money.” 

You snicker. 

To be honest,  it’s a little difficult walking with him now. The two of you are devoid of any communication whatsoever, a silence calm in the night and early morning yet thickly unbearable once the sun has risen. Before this, you’d been timidly tiptoeing between small talk and deep conversations. Yet now, with the mood of Tsumiki’s incident looming over the air like a ghostly whisper, there’s nothing to talk about, really, as much as you’d like for there to be. 

You’d once heard that people who fell in love were able to talk each others’ ears off for hours on end. You could do that with Yuuji. But Megumi has always been different— in your life, at least. He’s not as boisterous, and not as agreeable with most people despite his politeness, but it’s always been a pleasure being silent with him. Sitting in silence. Lying on the bed together. There’s no spark before you, just the tranquility of an ocean at midnight. In the darkness, with shadows. 

He’s special. Now you can see that, now more clearly than ever before. 

And even now— even when things are awkward and jittery, you find you don’t mind this that much at all.  You don’t think you mind anything if you’re doing it with him. 

So there are no words between you, and you glance at his face, at the frown that contorts his face so softly and gently. 

If you held hands now, it would be pleasant. 

If you held hands now, your hands would inch closer to his as shyly as the first hints of spring arrive after winter. Your wrist would reach his, fingers aching for others to interlock with. Then they would slowly graze his palm like a lost man navigating through the wilderness, until you slid your fingers up his arm again. You would keep them on his wrist, at the outline of his veins, and perhaps if you pressed on it hard enough and used the same mental imaging you do for your cursed technique, you would be able to watch as blood flowed through his arteries and veins. You’ve held his wrist before anyway, grabbed it and pulled him along while his hand would slacken a little. At that time you did it almost abrasively. 

Maybe he would flinch. And maybe you would pull your hand back. 

But then before you realise it he would be tugging on your fingers again, palm against yours, finger to finger. You can even feel it as you think of it now— you would nearly melt in the grooves of his palm, the texture of his skin, and your hand would dance around his a bit until both of your hands wrapped around each other, a snug fit.

“[Name].” 

Your breath seems to fall short as you’re pulled from your fantasies. “What?” you ask, your face hot like a pan sizzling with melted butter. 

“Are you okay? It’s time to cross the road.” 

“Yeah. Just… it’s just… Tsumiki.” 

His hand is on your wrist. 

“Okay.” 

And if your hand slides down to his palm, and you squeeze his hand before he squeezes yours back despite not looking at you at that moment, well— 

You’ve done this before, and several times. But yo know why it’s different now. 

The sun has risen. There’s a certain pallor on Tsumiki’s face that you’ve never seen before. Under the early morning light it’s as if sunlight is seeping through her like light refracted in water. Her face is torn between peace and a grimace, as if she’s suspended precariously between a dream and a nightmare. A glaring red mark burns into her forehead like carved wood in patterns completely alien to you. There’s no lively ponytail bursting from her head, only the sordid scene of strands of chestnut hair gone flattened and lifeless, her once bright pink lips turned desiccated and pale; the sight of her grinning face from before only slipping through your fingers like powdery heaps of dust. She’s drawn out on the mattress resembling a fawn carcass in a documentary: too young and innocent to be like this, shallowly breathing in the torpid air. Comatose. The sight juts through your heart. 

This is different from grief. It feels like suffocation, like heaviness in the air. Your breaths are shallow as you take the clear glass vase, fill it with water and replace the previous lilies with new ones. There is no grief because nothing has been lost, only suspended. Locked in a standstill, for a little while. 

“We think it was a curse,” Megumi chokes. 

“How can you cure her?” 

“There’s no known cure since it was made from cursed energy. All we can do is wait for her to wake up.” 

“How long…?” 

“Since junior high. A while after you left.” Megumi confesses, “I’m sorry if you’re angry that I should’ve told you sooner,” his voice is strained and soft, a little bit from cutting himself off, “I’m sorry.” 

How many times had you thought of seeing her? How many times had you wondered why he’d never call and let you know how she was? Would she survive this, or would you have to wait a hundred times more just to see her again?

He knew all of this. He could have told you. 

Don’t be unreasonable, you think. Just focus on what you can do next. 

“It’s not your fault,” you sigh, “It’s just that after everything…” 

“I’m sorry,” he says. 

“I just wish I could’ve known. Then this whole time that I spent waiting—” 

“I know,” he goes, begging you to be angry. To hate him, as if anything he’s done to you could be the cause of something so great. 

You can cure people. You were placed on this world, born with powers to make or break life’s structures and processes, to cure people. With powers like that you’ve been hunted, sought after, protected— and yet now, when you need to heal this wound of hers, there’s nothing you can do. 

It makes you feel so useless it shakes you to the core. 

“I don’t know if I can do anything,” you start, half-resolute and half-doubtful. But despite your doubt you know that this is what it’s all about; what you’ve pledged yourself to do— to try your best and be useful. Like walking on a tightrope: you’ll have to march forward in the face of all of this and just force yourself not to look down, because this is all it’s ever been. Maybe, you think for a second, everything in your life has led to this moment. “But can I try?” 

“…of course. If anyone could do it, it would be you,” he remarks, voice softening with each syllable. 

“…thanks.” 

He’s very… tender today. Vulnerable. You suppose it’s because of Tsumiki and refrain from commenting on it.

You focus all your energy into her forehead and her brain, trying your best to somehow work against an obscure charm with an even more abstruse molecular structure. 

You can feel it— the strain on your consciousness, how it hurts to even think at some point, but ignore it all and try your best to help her. 

Be useful. If you don’t make it work now, her health is going to be up in the air for longer. If you don’t make it work now, you won’t know if you’ll be able to speak to her again, to thank her for everything— for teaching you to be kind and loving, for caring for you and appreciating parts of you when you’d never felt it before, for her cherry hair tie and her bright smile and her endless wisdom and— 

[Name]? 

If you don’t make it work now, how many more months will she have to spend without smiling through life and sharing her love with others? 

You want to scream at Megumi sometimes, actually. 

[Name]!

If you don’t make it work now, how much time of her life would be wasted in the end, when she had so much potential to change the world and shine her light on others? 

…he could have just told you from the start! 

You have to focus. If he told you this at the start, would that have changed anything? 

Be useful. 

[Name]! 

You have to make it work. You have to bring Tsumiki back. 

taglist:

@bakananya, @sindulgent666, @shartnart1, @lolmais, @mechalily, @pweewee, @notsaelty, @nattisbored

(please send an ask/state in the notes if you'd like to join! if I can't tag your username properly, I've written it in italics. so sorry for any trouble!)

[serpentine-illusion]

I was asked to elaborate so I shall elaborate. (This like, applies to the at this point multiverse of delusional plot lines me and @plague-brat have going on which involve their OC Johanna [you've heard of her she's our famous redhead] but also my little plotlines around copia, Cirrus, aether etc. AND I will elaborate further regarding those three and this situation whenever I make my part 2 of that one delusional post I have made about them and yes I WILL REPEAT Myself probably)

ANYWAY ( please mind this is DEPRESSING AF)

-how tf did we get here? Oh the clergy is very very sick of their plans getting cut short.

-primo is probably the only one who actually was kind of into the whole cult thing or whatever but as we all know primo is clinically insane and very hard to control in all aspects

-secondo simply does not give a shit. If he doesn't want to do smth he will simply not do it. And he doesn't want to do a lot of things. Secondo lowkey cuts his own term short by just being purposefully horrible at being Papa, he cannot be fucked and it makes Sister and the rest of the clergy so so mad.

-terzo simply flew too close to the sun and got lost in the sauce. He develops such a big head at some point and gets way too caught up in the showmanship and attention he gets as Papa. He has an #attitude that especially Sister is not very fond of and is an absolute nightmare to deal with when he gets in a mood

-Copia is difficult!!! He's sort of easy to manipulate and lacks the arrogance and self importance of the others but is also bratty and takes direction horribly (50% unintentionally, 50% weaponized incompetence)

-Copia is also the world's most unfortunate nepo baby. He's the clergys only option and his relation to Sister and nihil put the expectations impossibly high. He's so obviously not cut out to have this much responsibility and absolute crumbles under the pressure almost immediately but he is too scared of disappointing that he would never admit it.

-and everyone is so mad and angry at him, although they knew this would absolutely happen. Sister especially is absolutely sick of it, she hyped copia up in her brain to an insane degree and she's not really up for another disappointment, ESPECIALLY not if it's her own son

-over the course of the Cardinal era everything grows out of control. Copia is under a lot of pressure, he's very emotional. He is a such an emotional and deeply insecure person and it's just totally bursting out of him at this point. He's a mess, he talks back, he cries, he regrets and he expresses how much he despises himself and this entire circus.

-Sister herself reaches a breaking point to where the vision doesn't line up with reality and she absolutely cannot take it. ( I feel like Sister has her own issues when it comes to self worth, I feel like she def feels like she has to overcorrect and prove herself to especially show to Nihil just how bad he fumbled, so HER son out of all of them being the one that completely crashes out under the pressure makes her crash out a little as well.)

-so the only logical solution to shut him up quickly is, you guessed it 🪄lobotomy🪄

-pair this with the facial surgery this is some sort of twisted overhaul, hopefully a factory reset, whoever copia was before this would hopefully be lost and be replaced with Papa IV

-(note: this initially did start because we got rly obsessed with how different his body language and demeanor is between Cardinal and Papa IV)

-and honestly in Sisters eyes it works? Copia is still going through it, probably even worse than before, but at least he's quiet about it, cause his brain is honestly so fucking foggy and all over the place he couldn't even try to find the words to express how he is feeling

-hes like, way less engaged, spaces out all the time, paperwork takes 3 times as long as it used to, Cirrus and Aether do a lot of it behind closed doors, because it takes copia ages, rereading the same passages over and over and over and just not being able to lock in on it at all

-his fuse is crazy short after this, his mood is unpredictable, moodswings left and right

-hes still so incredibly soft at his core but he feels his old self slipping away further and further every day. Just remembering things HE enjoys, his favourite colour, movies he likes, memories he made, it's all slowly fading into a pile of nothingness. So deeply buried and he never has the energy to go digging for anything.

Copia after he becomes papa

(Yes copia gets lobotomized before he becomes Papa, @plague-brat and me love angst )

[srslylini]

the way Arcane wasted character in season 2 is actually insane. They gave us good character design but no good character. Especially the new ones. Is there honestly ONE, one you genuinely cried over?

I cried over Mylo and Claggor. I cried over Vander in season 1. I cried over Powder screaming and sobbing after Vi in act 1 of season 1. I felt deep emotional pain over all of this because they gave me character and an understanding of the world we are in. And they did all of that in 3, THREE, episodes.

What did they do with Isha? Well I sure didn't cry when she died. Her character, while interesting just wasn't fleshed out at all. What I felt when they killed her was how idiotic the writers were for that because okay? like huh. They had 5 episodes with Isha and somehow managed to not make me care enough to cry. Not because Isha's potential wasn't there but because killing her was stupid and pointless, just to further another characters pain which could happen way more naturally without introducing a character to die.

What did they do with Loris? They tried to make him Vander (which okay weird why do that? especially if you want to bring Vander back anyway like uhm? what was the sense of introducing Loris as a Vander stand in and then bringing Vander back??). But he WASN'T Vander because they never showed him to be. They just told me he was. Which doesn't work. okay, he died. Did not care. The only thing I felt was rage again because it was so unnecessary and dumb, they could have made a lot with this character.

Maddie. Well Maddie is a whole other thing, isn't she? She was introduced in a way that already raised a lot of eyebrows. But in a "she is a cop" way and not she is on Ambessas side way. There is so much questions coming up with that. Had she been on Ambessa's side from the very start? Even when we first saw her on screen? Did she come with Ambessa? But how was she an enforcer then? Did she always live in Piltover but how did she then turn towards Ambessa? When she made that fist sign, was the plot between Ambessa and her already going, or did it happen after that? Why were we not shown any of this? this is NECESSARY to understand her character and why the end happened. We should have been able to feel betrayed as well but like? I did not feel betrayed I was just like "okay well, that happened off screen I guess."

Steb had not one talking line, like why was he here, was I meant to feel bad when he ran into The Grey, I can't even tell, help.

And then the side characters of Zaun, especially the Jinxers. The one woman who then died with Vi's hand in hers while wearing the uniforms of Piltover. Did not feel sad. Felt absolute huge amount of unfiltered rage. Her character should have MEANT something. I feel they tried to make her mean something but they failed there too.

Lest?? LIKE LEST COULD HAVE ALSO BEEN USED IN SUCH AN INTERESTING WAY. She just never came back. Okay. Great, at least she didn't die but like? Was I meant to get invested? Was I meant to care? Usually I should be able to tell if I should care about a character in a show or not but in Arcane s2 they tried to make me care and failed or if I cared well then they failed, too

anyways just the side characters especially were a huge disappointment this time around.

[sysig]

I think the world is so wonderful... (Patreon)

[ria-starstruck]

signalisheads. ninesolsheads. ive swapped your tragic doomed yuri. they're getting enrichment i swear

[blackcatxmagic]

Nodding, Winter agreed, "Yeah, especially me. I mean...I always have honey here. It's sort of my thing. But I need different ways to enjoy it or else I'll...well, stop enjoying it, you know? And I don't want that because..." Winter trailed off; he knew what he was about to say, but he also knew it might sound stupid. Still, he said it anyway, telling Stoker, "It's so much a part of who I am, beekeeping and selling my honey and all of that, and I kind of don't know who I would be without it." There was one thing though that Winter didn't say out loud: that his bees brought him so much comfort because sometimes it felt like they were the only ones to truly understand him. Their bond was unexplainable and deep, and Winter truly loved them. But he thought that might be too much for Stoker. It seemed like the other understood Winter's point though, and that made him smile. Yes, he was glad the two of them had met.

Upon giving the honey to his new friend, Winter saw his reaction, which made him smile even more in turn. It always felt good to him to make other people happy, and he already knew he'd be giving Stoker another free jar of honey at some point. "It's no big deal," he said, still grinning at them. "I mean...I've got more honey than I can manage sometimes." Right now he didn't have quite as much because it was winter, but he still had more than enough to sell at the markets for the next couple of months. And besides, that wasn't Winter's livelihood anyway - he'd only ever done this because he loved it, not as a job. "I wanted to do something nice for you," he said softly. "I just...I always appreciate when people like me." Winter felt himself getting a little vulnerable now, and he blushed slightly, but still he continued. "Sometimes people think I'm weird or are put-off by the fact that my memory is so terrible," Winter explained further, "so I just...I'm glad you're not one of those people." His cheeks were just a little redder now, but Winter didn't feel embarrassed; he felt like Stoker would understand.

And that was why Winter found himself talking further about the memory issues - he could tell that Stoker wouldn't judge him or make an excuse to leave or something (at least he hoped not). "It's...it's been hard," Winter explained. "I don't even remember how to drive. You know that car in the driveway? That's mine, but it's pretty useless to me. And...and it's not just like a couple of notes." He walked over to a drawer nearby and pulled it open, taking out a stack of notes and holding them up to show Stoker. "See what I mean?" He didn't want to dwell on it too much, but it just felt nice being able to open up about this. There were some things Winter didn't say though, like how he was afraid to even try learning how to drive again because he was worried he wouldn't be able to retain anything he learned. This felt too personal to reveal though, at least for right now. Stoker had nothing but positive and encouraging things to say, and their support made Winter smile, feeling a little less self-conscious. "I'm getting by," he replied, "I am. It's just...it's hard sometimes, and it's embarrassing too." His cheeks were just a little red now, but mostly Winter felt safe and comfortable with his new friend, and he appreciated that greatly.

After the pair had made their tea, Winter sat at the counter with Stoker, taking a sip. "Another way I like honey is on toast," he told Stoker. "Just like drizzled on. If you haven't tried it, well..." He trailed off, nodding toward the jar of honey he'd given the other, a smile on his face. For a couple more minutes, they sat there enjoying their tea, and Winter asked, "So what do you like to do in your free time, Stoker? I guess we still don't know a ton about each other, do we?" Winter felt like Stoker could end up being a good friend, but he wanted to know them more. He removed a small notebook from his pocket as well as a pen, blushing slightly once more. "Is it okay if I take notes?" Winter asked the other.

Stoker laughed. "I am a tea person, yeah. I'm a bit of an avid drinker in general, so I'm a big fan of a lot of drinks, but tea has always been up there with my favourites," they explained, giving a completely unnecessary long winded answer, not unlike Stoker. "I think that's a perfectly acceptable reason to be a tea drinker," Stoker shrugged. "I mean, if you stuck to straight honey all the time I feel like you'd be more likely to get sick of it by now," which definitely wouldn't be a very good thing for someone who was so involved with the making of honey.

"For me?" Stoker confirmed, the smile already on his face growing larger. While he knew that Winter was kind and generous, he didn't expect a whole bottle from his best batch of the year, and that oddly touched Stoker. "Thank you very much, Winter. I'll treat it like liquid gold," he chuckled. He already knew that Silas would be benefitting from the gift too, which made Stoker feel hopeful that he could pay Winter back by sending Silas and his thick wallet his way with some business.

The switch up in conversation to the topic of Winter's accident was one that surprised Stoker so very much, but it wasn't unwelcome. If anything, Stoker valued honesty, particularly when it was honesty regarding something so vulnerable. "You haven't told me this before," Stoker reassured him. "I think the notes are a great way of managing that, that's a really smart use of resources," Stoker's words were completely honest, and his tone was relatively stable; he didn't want to come across like he was pitying Winter in a way that would make him feel less than other's without issues similar. "I know my words are just, well, words, but you don't need to hide them from me." Stoker didn't know how deep Winter's embarrassment went, but he truly did want his friend to know that there was no reason to be ashamed.

"Thank you," Stoker was more than happy to busy himself by putting honey into his tea and moving on to a conversation about it instead. While he meant what he said when speaking of Winter's accident, seeing the way that the other reacted to having left a note out, Stoker didn't want to force him to ruminate on the subject. "This smells amazing with the honey in it," he commented, smile as bright as his sparkling, friendly eyes.

[hanzajesthanza]

geralt is also a most real depiction of good quality fatherhood and great girldad representation because EVEN THOUGH witchers don’t even experience aging at the same rate as non-GMO humans, EVEN THOUGH it would be “biologically impossible,”

geralt having had been raising a pre-teen girl for maybe a few months to a year already “gave the impression of having aged,” his “face slashed by wrinkles.” the emotional toll on this man from raising she-devil ciri

and this is only the very beginning of the saga. BEFORE everything goes to shit. the wrinkles have set in

[ninkaku]

annoying conversations happening on twitter this week about dazai and his canonical whoreness .... very ableist delivery of people treating him like a tiny 22 yr old minor who clearly doesn't know what sex is and its getting weeeeeiirrrrd ...........

[skunkes]

another thing i love about dungeon meshi along with how theres adequate time given to every character that matters! Is that like. Along with no "every single character in supporting cast gets put on the backburner in favor of MC / other character development" is that theres also no "god these characters are all so boring except that one guy who is tragic and compelling" bc they all have the same capacity for compelling tragedy (and such).

And it also doesn't feel like when ppl tack on as much Bad Things onto a characters life just to emphasize tragedy or hardship... Theres a good balance in each of em. The recent leaked izutsumi dark lore implication drop wasn't even in the main story and it doesnt feel like that quirky "i love torturing my ocs! 🤪🤪🤪🤪 (Literally just throwing everything into one pot)" sentiment i see here often if that makes sense. It doesn't feel Edgy ykwim