#ill be back with more cringe later i have one more thing in mind with these dweebs

[todayisafridaynight]

upsy daisy

[crispbeigepages]

~Too Sweet~

CW|Angst(?), Swearing, Drugs & Alcohol, Themes of Cannibalism

GRAAAGGGGHH Someone take Hozier away from me I'm f e r a l

It was late at night, a few hours after the bistro had closed. Vincent had just arrived back in his apartment after struggling to focus on his paperwork that remained scattered on his office desk.

The dark bags under his eyes had gotten more pronounced, his demeanor more irritable than usual.

He needed a drink.

Vincent usually strayed away from alcohol, given that his lack of taste only left the negative effects of the drinks in his system. Despite that, however, any good chef had a liquor cabinet for social gatherings and cooking.

A lanky arm reached up for one of the taller bottles housing an expensive brand of whiskey. Normally when Vincent drank, he'd have mixed drinks to soften the blow of getting drunk.

Not this time. This time, he wanted hammered.

Everything had been entirely normal until around 9am that morning. The bistro opened at 7am, but Vincent's newest server hadn't arrived yet, leaving him to tend to any of the early morning patrons.

It had been 9am when the server, Rody, had arrived and clocked in.

"Your second day here and you're already la-"

Vincent cut off, noticing the disgruntled state of his employee.

Rody was soaked, his hair messy and unkempt from the downpour of rain outside.

"Sorry.. I thought if I rode my bike here faster I'd stay dryer, but it turned out to be the opposite!"

Rody's explanation was followed by a sheepish laugh.

Vincent had barely picked up on what he had said, too focused on the uncomfortable, unnatural feeling in his chest. Without thinking, Vincent grabbed a towel and began ruffling Rody's hair dry.

"Why didn't you bring an umbrella?"

"I don't have one."

A flicker of surprise crossed Vincent's face. Who didn't have an umbrella of all things?

Much to Rody's surprise as well as his own, he offered his umbrella to Rody.

"But you'll get wet!"

Rody's protest made an uncomfortable chill run through Vincent.

What was going on with him today?

"I live in an apartment upstairs."

The rest of that interaction had proved irrelevant to Vincent's mind, instead thinking about how soft Rody's hair had seemed when his fingers brushed against it.

That was only the beginning of Vincent's day of turmoil.

Later in the day, around noon or so, Vincent had come out of his office to check on his employees and customers. During his rounds through the dining hall of the bistro, he overheard a conversation between customers and his server.

"Your appetizer, ma'am!"

"Why thank you! How handsome.. I can see why chef Charbonneau hired you."

"Isn't he? He's so precious too!"

Vincent had turned around intent on telling Rody to get back to work but froze.

His eyes landed on a sight that made his heart race. Rody was blushing, averting his gaze from the women doting on him.

His mouth became uncomfortably dry.

It didn't take long for Vincent to finish his rounds before returning to his office and sitting down with a sharp exhale.

His shaky hands reached into his pockets, pulling out a cigarette and lighter. He had a pile of paperwork on his desk that needed filled out, agitating forms that he could care less about in that moment.

He just needed a cigarette to calm his nerves.

Various other incidents similar happened throughout the day, but they'd practically all meshed together in Vincent's brain. He gulped down his whiskey, cringing at the burn that lingered after.

His tolerance for alcohol was extremely low, so it only took a glass for him to start feeling tipsy.

The more alcohol he drank, the more he thought about Rody. His smile, his sunny personality, his blush. Everything about Rody plagued his brain like an illness, a sick obsession induced by intoxication.

Thirty minutes in and half a bottle of whiskey had gone. Vincent was wasted, his brain foggy with images of that damned server.

Vincent began to feel a deep hunger within the pit of his stomach. He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol talking, but he couldn't help but feel a carnal desire to eat.

He despised eating.

Yet there he sat, an itching, burning feeling throughout his entire body.

Rody was like a precious artifact, a beautiful gem that glimmered in the sunlight. He was an art piece, that of which was too good for Vincent.

It was wrong, Vincent knew this, but he couldn't shake this feeling.

Rody was a sweet nectar Vincent couldn't stand, a flavor he knew he'd despise if he had taste.

Despite this, Vincent couldn't shake the want, the need to devour.

He wanted to fucking ruin him.

[jaysswlvrr]

Hatred

Summary☆ You and Jake were the most popular kids in school, but I never got along. You hated him. Soon, that would change.

Paring☆ Y/n x Jake

Warnings☆ Swearing, teasing, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), kind of mean dom jake, in the begging jake was kind of sub, slightest degration, nicknames, reader is on pill, slut shaming :(

You sat next to jake in lesson ignoring whatever he said.

"y/n and jake you are partners for the project" your teacher announced.

"ughhh " you groaned

"meet me at my house, around 7pm?" jake questioned.

"whatever, I hate you" you said before walking out the ended lesson.

" if she hates me that much, ill fuck the hatred out" he muttered to himself before walking out too.

Luckily, you never heard that part and skipped away to your friends house.

You were now home from your friends house and had just woke up realising you had to revise with jake. The only thing running through your head was "i dare you to make jake hard" one of your friends had dared you to do that after you said you weren't scared of doing anything, but this was on a whole another level. You had no other option to do, so you stood up and did you hair and makeup but leaving your high shorts and low-cut shirt.

ding dong

You rang his doorbell, fascinated by the size of his mansion but kept your cool. A few seconds later a shirtless jake opened the door welcoming you in. He had sloppy eyes which showed that he had just woken up from a nap, he somehow looked cuter.

Now its flirt mode (try not to cringe)

"Hii jakee, oh my gosh you've never looked cuterr" you said whilst running a finger on his abs "there rock hard" you looked up at him flutterring your lashes.

He couldn't even speak.

"Are we not going inside" he questioned moving your hand away gently.

Jake never showed he was flustered so you weren't shocked.

He led you into his bedroom which was way neater that you thought before siting down on a chair. You took of your jacket revealing you shirt hoping jake would notice.

He came back wearing a hoodie and sat next to you with spread out legs and papers ready to work.

time skipp

You have been studying for a while now and had enough.

"Jakee can we have a break-" but you stopped to notice jake staring at your- cleavage?

This gave you the idea to bend over slightly more to expose your chest.

"So, would you like to tell me what your staring at?" you said with a smug look on your face.

Before he could speak you climbed onto his lap, your clothed cunt now on his hard dick.

"Damn your really hard, do I look that good?"

mission accomplished (Hehe)

You started grinding slow but hard unto him.

"fuck" he groaned "you know how much of a fucking slut you are" but you just giggled. He lifts you off him and you lose any tension you had between him.

"whyy" you whimpered "I hate you"

"that's exactly why we are here today" jake said.

He started coming closer to you and before you could move anymore behind you back hit the wall, he grabbed your wrists with one of his big hand and lifted them above your head.

He used his other hand to slightly pull down your shirt to reveal more of your breast.

"this is what you've been teasing me with this whole time huh, you whore"

All you could do was let out little whimpers and look down.

"now any hatred that you have in me will be fucked out until the only thing in your mind will be my name" he spoke.

You looked up at him in shock whilst letting out a nervous laugh but you realised he was being dead serious.

"J-jake i think this is too far" you said with a cracking smile, but its not like you could go anywhere as jake had you trapped in his embrace, staring directly at you.

All of a sudden he started smirking which gave you shivers "if you don't strip by the time I'm back you'll be done"

done?

Well, you weren't risking anything and as soon as he left you took of your layers of your pyjamas. You hadn't even realised that you wore your light blue lingerie under.

You were now practically laying on his bed waiting for him to come back, as if he could hear your thoughts, he entered the room, once again, shirtless.

"Get up" he ordered sticking his hand for you to hold onto him. You grabbed his hand as he suddenly push your stomach onto the cold desk making you silently moan.

Without any doubt you were soaking with arousal which made jakes job easier. He started rubbing his veiny finger along your clothed pussy.

"Ughh please touch me jake" you pleaded.

"I am y/nn" but he wasn't properly, and he knew that.

"Jakee pleasee, actually" you both knew he was soaking hard as well but he clearly loved seeing you plead instead.

He didnt hesitate and pulled down your now ruined panties and stared at your dripping pussy.

"woah"

But all you could do was whimper and sulk about him not being in you even though you have been waiting so patiently.

He quickly enters you with a sharp thrust. And wow he was hard. He didn't give you anytime to adjust. He kept a steady, speedy pace which had you clenching around him already.

"If you keep doing that ill cum already" but you couldn't help yourself, his dick fit inside you like a finger around a ring.

"Fuckk jake I'm going to cum too"

He suddenly pushes your head down onto the ice cold desk, hitting a different angle.

"Jake!" you yelled

You quickly reached you orgasm followed by him.

"Where do you want me to cum?"

You pulled out from him and kneeled down with pleading eyes and a stuck out tounge.

"fuck" he groaned

You wrapped your lips around his cock as he started thrusting into you, his sperm creaming your mouth. You swallowed every bit without hesistation.

"Youre such a fucking slut" he argued.

" im your slut"

"And i still fucking hate you." You said.

"Then were going to have to have another round."

"Sure"

★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆

☆Thank you for readingg pookie☆

@dependsontheday @jaeyunsprincxss

[deeznutzzzz24]

Little Red Riding Hood

Chapter Two: An Uninvited Guest

Summary: Living a life of caution for as long as she can remember, Y/N has never stayed too long in one place, always moving from town to town in hopes to hide her identity. With the Hunters Moon coming, she knows she must be extra careful, as the local culture resides heavily in the hunting of her kind. One night, when a cloaked figure unveils her secret and narrowly escapes, Y/N finds herself in a desperate situation: kill or be killed. With no face to go by, she must now search through the townsfolk before the stranger can spread the truth about her. But the task proves more than difficult when she realises her only lead is a long, crimson cloak.

Genre: horror, fantasy, little red riding hood retelling

Warnings: cursing, stalking, death, heavy smut (later included)

Pairing: redridinghood!Jungwon x femwolf! reader

chapter one here

chapter three here

chapter four here

Midnight air slips through the town square. The small clearing in front of the monastery lays bare, except for a small crow perched above its tallest wing, scrutinising my every move. The townspeople must be sound asleep in their warm beds. It’d be well past midnight by now, seeing as the way the moon slowly sinks across the stars. I glance to the midnight sky, cursing the way its constellations align so perfectly.

God is taunting me on this night.

He too, has seen my sin.

Perhaps he’s seen all along, and has only chosen tonight as the opportune time to tell me. Observing the empty courtyard to my left, I squint at the quiet townhouses in the distance. No red cloaks hurry through the footpaths.

The fool thinks he can hide from me.

The crow hawks a loud farewell and launches into the midnight sky. I hear it wishing me well as it passes. Smiling, I recount all the times they’ve watched on as I’ve killed the innocent. All creatures of the forest have an equal fealty to werewolves. Even birds know there are loyalties that must never be crossed.

Casting a subtle glance back to the monastery, I watch in silence as the town pastor gently closes the gates.

Shit.

Hearing him approach, I suck in an awkward breath and turn to retreat. His presence will only serve as a distraction.

He hurries forward and touches a gentle hand to my shoulder before I can turn away. “Y/N! I’ve been looking for you!”

Taking in a brief moment of freedom, I release a subtle sigh and turn to face my guest.

Pastor Mikaul has aged fairly since the last time I had seen him. His eyes droop with age, waning on the edge of exhaustion with chunks of hair that seemed to stick to his forehead like a mop.

In Mikeals mind, God was the greatest diety of all, giving sanctuary and hope to all those who send him their precious prayer.

I tilt my head to the side, observing the stern callouses that paint his palms. Some god indeed, stripping his faithful of freedom and leaving them to wander around a chapel all day like mindless fools. Blinded by their faith, High Priests in Avion spend their days locked up without a morsel of food or sunlight. They believe praying is the only thing they need to survive. I suppose it’s silly of me to judge, considering I’ve spent most of my life adapting to the shadows and living by the rules of the forest.

Pastor Mikeal makes an awkward cough as he takes his hand from my shoulder.

Cringing, I watch him shift closer, giving me a stern expression of disapproval. “The Council and I have been wondering why you haven’t been showing up to Church for our Sunday services.” He nearly whispers as he mentions the Council, pointing narrow glances to every corner of the courtyard before proceeding, “I understand your aunt is gravely ill, but perhaps praying for her good health will do better than neglecting your religious duties. You don’t want to break the Council’s trust now do you my dear?” Just as before, the old cripple goes into a hushed tone when mentioning the Council.

I suppress a smile.

Even the pastor fears them.

Under the guise of hiding a sob, I give each eye a firm pinch and wait impatiently for the tears to fall. I spend the next 10 minutes explaining my absences from church, and my dear aunts depleting health that seems to worsen each day. Waving my arms around on occasion, I weave a delicate tale of a hidden antidote, a difficult journey through the Northern treks of Rangaar, and a kind young woman trying to save her only living relative. In this story, and only in this story, I am the kind young woman. I finish my appeal with a long sob and a heartfelt apology thrown in for for his pride.

I watch through the corner of my eye as he stares uncertainly at the ground, catching the way his eyes twist in discomfort.

I’ve been a cold bitch to the him since the day Helena and I arrived in Avion. He wasn’t expecting this heartfelt reaction.

“My dear girl, if it troubles you so, let’s leave it be as it is for now…” he murmurs, briefly hesitating before giving my back a comforting pat.

I force myself into a stuttering mess. “B-but the Council will still be angry-”

“Don’t you worry about them, I’ll let the Council know of your impending troubles.” Giving me a reassuring pat on the back, he sets off in the opposite direction, leaving me to stand alone in the cold. I feel the sad expression on my face wear thin, moulding into the familiar uniformity of a nothingness.

In twelve days, when the winter solstice has begun, he will die. As will most in this town. Nothing has changed.

Our plans are still set, no matter how delayed.

I watch his figure morph into emptiness, chanting the promise once more in my mind.

They’re all going to die.

I turn to continue my hunt, finding myself pushing for any emotion, any small sign of sympathy, but all I feel is my heart sink at the knowledge that it’ll never hold more power over me than my head.

___

The South side of the forest could easily be considered the joyous reflection of the North. Complete opposites in every way.

Ever since Helena and I arrived in Avion, we’ve spent every spare hunting day covering the grounds of the North and West sides of the woods, using their confines of dark solidarity to our advantage while we hunted in secret.

The only few times I’ve needed to cross into the South was to visit Mary, who lives in a comfortable little cottage on the other side of town.

Leaves crunch beneath my feet with weary pace, leaving me to wonder if someone is actually watching me from afar or if it’s just my paranoia. I shake my head, pulling my lavender dress up to avoid a muddy branch in my path. Mary always fusses over my dresses, warning me not to get them dirty or she’ll be forced to do the one thing I hate most; make more of them. While Helena also pushes the importance of dresses as it eases the process of ‘blending in’ with the townsfolk, I’ve never been particularly fond of the discomfort a gown can bring me. Avion may be a quaint and colourful paradise in Summer and Spring, but in Winter the waters soak down through the small winded mud puddles, making it nearly impossible for any young woman to trek through the forest paths. How most Avion women bear the irritation that comes with wearing sun dresses and gowns everywhere they go, I’ll never know. Upholding the social standards of others has never been a concern of mine. Not with my situation.

I look ahead to the narrow stone path closing in, knowing I must be close. Mary usually insists I bring a map of Avion before setting off on my journey to her cottage, as the both of us know it’s not the easiest little place to find. Little does she know, I have a knack for finding people.

The crunch of leaves beneath my boots gradually soften, signalling I’m close. Mary’s cottage is situated in the centre of the most beautiful part of the forest, where the leaves in her garden shine with delicate care as though they’re watered everyday. Knowing Mary, they probably are. Small slivers of sunlight catch a small cottage coming up to my left. Hues of pink and green hover in small spaces of light above the roof. It’s almost as though Mary’s cottage is where the fairies come to congregate. That wouldn’t surprise me, honestly. I can already picture Mary welcoming them with her cinnamon cocoa and warm smile. Unlike the rest of the townsfolk, Mary has a pure heart filled with patience and compassion for the magical elements. Creatures of myth have never scared her, but that’s only because she’s never met a creature of dark magic.

She wouldn’t accept me, and as much as my affection for her stands firm, I certainly wouldn’t expect her to.

The smell of warm chocolate and pastry fills the air as I approach, pushing all thoughts of acceptance aside. Mary usually waits out the front for my arrival, fussing with my coat and boots so that I can enter comfortably, but today, she’s nowhere in sight. Making my way past the small porch steps, I take off my shoes and go to place them neatly by the door, stopping abruptly when I hear voices coming from inside. She must have a visitor. I glance to the small shoe rack by my side, searching for any shoes that mightn’t belong to Mary. I don’t see any.

Strange.

She hates it when people don’t take their shoes off before entering. Pressing my ear to the door, I listen in silence as I hear Mary’s voice accompanied by that of a males. Before I can catch what they’re saying I hear a loud crash followed by a scream.

Mary.

This was no visitor,

but rather an uninvited guest.

_____________________________________________

Authors Note:

Sheesh that took me forever haha, sorry to everyone who’s been waiting. I’m really going to try and punch out another chapter this week cause I’m getting too invested in my own story LMAO.

No fr, send help💀

Anyway hoes comment in the comment section if you want to be added to the taglist (for those that haven’t already asked)

Taglist: @ramenoil @moonmoongi

[aladaylessecondblog]

Severed Destiny, pt. 10

Author's Note: tw, Sadara doesn't want to be 'alive' anymore and considers taking steps to not be alive.

Lots of medical talk from the Divath Fyr section. You can't tell me that this man can clone himself and not also invent a shitload of things.

This is long, almost 6k words

--------------------------

Below the sound of constant ashy gusts of the blight winds, the Ghostfence hummed.

She had been staring at it, waiting, for what she knew not. Perhaps for the bravery to carry through with the idea that had brought her here.

There had hardly been a moment of respite outside of Mausur Caverns. It seemed that whenever she approached a corprus beast or ash zombie, they would almost instantly turn, necks giving a too-loud crack, before fixing her with either a steady gaze or bolting at the spot where she'd last made a sound.

And she might have thought he did not have ill intent, had they not been so intent to lay hands on her. She could toss a bolt of ice at the lesser ones and run, but the ash ghouls (poets, his voice still corrected her somewhere in the back of her mind) and ascended sleepers...they were another story.

She'd thought herself well hidden enough, behind a scattering of rocks. The blight winds had slowed a bit, but were still strong enough she'd been certain it couldn't see or sense her movement.

She had been wrong.

The sleeper had spotted her, and as she'd moved back to flee - hurled a bolt of magic at her. It struck, but seemingly did nothing, and for a moment she could not figure out why - not that there was time for much thought. Moving away there was another bolt of the same, and another, yet neither of the two did anything.

It was not until she had gotten safely back to Mausur that she realized they were paralysis spells. They'd done nothing because wispmothers weren't affected by such things. It was almost a relief.

Almost.

But the fact that she was being attacked at all confirmed what Azura had been telling her: that he wanted her gone, and likely enough, wanted to handle it himself. Why else would the sleepers be hurling spells at her?

Then there had been a similar encounter a week later, with an ash poet, and then another, a few days after that.

It made her wonder if Gilvoth had finally spoken up. Stay gone, he'd said, and I will keep your secret. Stay gone, and I won't tell him you didn't leave to retrieve Wraithguard. Perhaps after she'd been caught through the eyes of that dying man, he'd started trying to find her. Maybe it had not been entirely angry, she couldn't know. But he WOULD be angry if Gilvoth spoke up...yes. Yes, that would explain the sudden surge of spells the ash poets and ascended sleepers directed at her. That would explain everything.

The small joy she had been able to take from this world of shit had been eliminated, and Azura had had much fun mocking her for it.

The Sharmat wants to destroy she who most betrayed him! Do you think he would want to leave it to his underlings? Do you think he would let you expire peacefully? Dead as you are, the demon has ways of making you pray for the true end! There is no escape!

She was alone again, but she couldn't simply stay in Mausur - that was the surest way to madness, to hole up there to wait for the end, in whatever way it came.

So now here she stood, an arm's length from the Ghostfence, contemplating what, she wasn't sure.

No, she knew what it was.

She extended a spectral hand, lifted it to the shimmering, shifting surface of the Ghostfence, and winced. Putting a hand near it produced a repelling force, and pushing it forward anyway made her feel as though her hand would split painlessly apart.

But actually touching it?

Pain shot up her arm, and she cringed from the agony. She felt weak - weaker than usual, even more than she had when she had first awakened behind that cursed glow.

Yet it hurt not nearly so much as feeling nothing at all.

Had she still been living there might have come then a deep breath. There was still a steeling of nerves, a moment of silence in her mind, a desperate attempt to keep her course steady.

Fifteen years.

For certain she knew it, for Azura had been sure to tell her each time a year passed. Her daughter was nearly a woman now, and she had seen none of it, had barely been able to hold her as a babe before expiring. What would she look like now? Would she still resemble--him? Would her little girl be able to see her at all? How had the argonians raised her, what had she learned? What hopes and dreams did she have?

What would have been, had she been able to convince him of the wrongness of his actions? It was a sword, that imagining, a sword that cut her a thousand agonies with every attempt to approach it. She had once tried thinking how joyful a father he might have been, how eager he might have been to teach a young mind, the first new one of his family in well over three thousand years. The smile on his face when a small voice called him father.

She would gladly have cast off her own and worn the name Nerevar, forget all that she had been if she could have even a taste of that life.

How wonderful things might have been, had I only been able to make him see?

So many questions I will never know the answer to.

There had been light, laughter, and love once, a lifetime ago. But now? Now there was only darkness and the constant red fog of the blight storms, and even this was going to come to an end. And she would know - for Azura said as much - when he had been defeated, for it would all stop, and then would come her true doom.

Even the corprus monsters she had once sung to, her only real company, would cease to exist and she would be lost, truly lost, in a never-ending stretch of ash and ruin.

A silent moment passed then. She steeled her nerves, kept her ghostly hands clenched into fists, and began to float forward--

No. STOP.

The voice was distinctly male, and stern in a way that reminded her of the ordinators. It came--from where, she wasn't sure. There was no one around her, that she could see, anyway. Perhaps she had finally lost it.

This isn't the answer.

"This is the only option I have left," she said in reply, "The last mote of happiness I had has been stolen. He has his followers dogging my every step, ready to end me if I'm not vigilant enough. I will never be able to pass the Ghostfence...what is left for me? What other answer is there?"

All is not as it appears. Listen to me. Let me help you. Just don't end yourself.

"Please don't make me hope," she whispered, "I would rather go now, than...than find you aren't real, or..."

I am real. I am HERE, the voice said. Strong as an ox, sure as the sun, he believed what he was saying, she could understand that much.

"But who are you?"

-----------------------------------

Yagrum was so eager to speak that Haj-deek couldn't help but sit there with him. She had the blood drawing tools in hand, but hesitated to go back up to Divath Fyr just yet.

"Your father - he was always brilliant, always knew exactly what he wanted - but perhaps not always how to get it. Else you would likely bear two names instead of only the one."

She looked away for a moment. "My mother's journals tell me she tried to change his mind, but...but was unsuccessful."

"Even for a lover's touch Lord Dagoth would not change his mind, that was always his way. Stubborn as any lord of a Great House might be."

"If my mother couldn't do it, then..." Haj-deek shook her head. Whatever Vivec had done, given her - she felt it kicking around in her head, boiling beneath her skin. He'd said she would know when the time had come to use it. Maybe whatever it was could be used.

She tried to explain what had lead to the situation wherein Vivec had given her this supposed power, whatever it was. Yagrum latched onto the topic eagerly.

"Much as Azura likes to consider herself a loving and benevolent deity, she has proven many times to be quite the opposite. And Vivec - him I am more and yet less sure of. He is eager to correct his mistakes, you say?"

"He claims to have seen the future," she said, "He showed me Baar Dau falling and striking the city...the disaster that followed. He was--very precise."

She knew she'd said too much, but Yagrum wasn't in a position to tell anyone else but those of Tel Fyr, and none of the people here seemed like the sort to go running to tell what she'd said.

"He didn't seem to dislike the idea of doing something to help my father," Haj-deek went on, "I wanted to know him, I said, and...he went along with it. He knows a lot of things I don't, this is probably one of them."

"Or he could be leading you on, to direct you to a most bloody fate. That is the whim of gods and those who consider themselves gods. Disobey them and their façades fade away in an instant." There was a moment of thought. "If you are quite serious in the attempt...I suppose there is something I could lend you. I would if possible want it back if you are able to escape this plan with your life."

Yagrum turned, and the spiderlike legs beneath him went tk tk tk as he moved over towards the wardrobe. He opened it, humming briefly to himself, and then lifted something from its bottom. "I've got something your father once gave to me...and when trying to appeal to one's humanity, it helps to have reminders from the past."

When he returned he held out a tiny, inert dwemer spider. It looked clumsily made - its sides were a little lumpy, and its legs felt brittle. Too thin. The metal had not been worked right, she could see that even not knowing how exactly smithing of such metals worked.

But the joints seemed to be holding together well, even while the rest of it didn't seem so well off.

"What is this?" she finally asked.

"A dwemer spider," Yagrum said, "House Dagoth mingled its blood with that of the Dwemer at some point in the past, and your father was interested in learning something of our skills, saying it could be of benefit to learn more of his heritage. And I, being--well, one of--his closest friends at the time, seemed the obvious first place to look for guidance on the matter. He tried a little of everything - and presented me with this spider."

Haj-deek smiled briefly. "Was he proud of it?"

"Yes and no. He was pleased to have made something, but he was well aware its quality was not...ideal. 'I have created, if not beautifully,' he said, 'And I would give it to you, but it would be an insult to provide you with something of such poor quality.' I cared not. I told him it was a shaky first attempt, but that he did not have the benefit that I did. I studied under Kagrenac himself - he had contented himself with notes I gave him. Seeing is better than reading, which is itself secondary to doing. I told him he should keep trying. I kept the spider, though, as a token of our friendship. Even in my wanderings, it's been at my side. Even when my mind deserted me, I knew it was important, even if I did not know why."

"I--thank you, for trusting me with it. Any help I can get, I'll take...do you think it will help remind him of--before?"

"It could, or it could not. But when you encounter your father, be sure to show him this little spider. Remind him that there was a time he did not make perfect the enemy of good, that there was a time he did not..."

Yagrum seemed to stop short at that.

"I'm sorry, I...lost track of my thoughts. Ah. You did not come here to only speak to me. You'd best take the blood-drawing tool up to Lord Fyr, I await eagerly the news of what you might help him discover."

"I don't mind speaking to you, though. Um...before I go..."

"What?"

"Did you ever meet my mother? Divath Fyr says he did, and..."

"Your mother...the previous Nerevarine." Yagrum paused, squinted, and shook his head. "Very little. Her smile, I remember that...she had a smile that brightened even this dark room. Ah - something else, she played that guarskin drum you might've seen Uupse using. I don't remember why."

Haj-deek thanked Yagrum once again, and finally left.

-------------------------------------

The blood-drawing tool in question was a strange looking needle attached to a colorful...tube of some kind? It was made of something that seemed to give a little, but not much, and on either side of the bright part were two strange little things almost like wings. Behind that the small tubing extended into something that looked like it was made to be put into something else.

The needle was...rather large, and that made her skin crawl just a bit. But she went on back to Divath Fyr anyway, with Sunchaser following close behind.

"Ah, good, you're back. You were gone longer than I expected."

"Yagrum was eager to talk to someone new," Haj-deek said, "And he'd met my mother, so...I wondered if he'd have anything to say about her. Now...uh...this thing, what is it? How are you supposed to draw blood with it? What's it even made of?"

"A new material derived from certain trees in Black Marsh, they're calling it 'rubber,'" Divath Fyr said, "And I've taken to calling it a butterfly needle. My patients seem to prefer these to the metallic sort. It was actually Vistha-Kai who suggested using the rubber in place of them."

"Where's the blood supposed to go?"

He gestured to her to follow, and so she did. He lead her to what was clearly some sort of alchemy lab, as crowded as the desk there was. Vials, ingredients, lined the shelves behind it, and he plucked a small vial from a lower shelf. The end of the tubing seemed to slot neatly into the vial's open top.

"Your blood flows at a certain speed as it moves through your body, and as such all I need do is give a little prick into a vein and let your body do all the work."

"And then?"

"Then I begin my work. Your blood could be invaluable in my struggle against the...more negative effects of corprus. Provided, of course, your blood is...of the right type." Divath Fyr took to cleaning the point end of the butterfly needle as he spoke.

"Type? Blood has types?" Haj-deek was frankly astonished, and even though the idea of being stuck with the needle was a bit gross, she was curious to hear more.

"Oh, yes. I noticed that when studying the blood of some of my patients, a curious reaction happened when I combined some of it under another of my inventions. It allows for amplified viewing of small--"

"Go on," she gestured, when he stopped.

"--of things too small for the naked eye to see itself. I noticed certain differences between the samples, yet similarities from the corprus."

"The blood was different from one patient to the next?""

When he gestured for her arm, Haj-deek decided to cooperate. It was fascinating, listening to this, despite...everything. Listen, Vivec had said, listen when the masters speak. You may learn something even if you do not understand it.

"There were four types, as Uupse later discovered, and two...subtypes of those types. To keep things simple, I named them after two of my daughters...and for oblivion itself."

The needle pricked a vein in her elbow, and despite the sudden nausea Haj-deek watched the blood flow out and into the vial. It didn't take long to fill the thing; the needle was pulled away and the small wound healed.

"That's a little weird. Not your daughters, but oblivion...?"

"A thing a man discovers is his to name, after all," Divath Fyr went on with a laugh, "Alfe, or A, Beyte, or B, and AB. The fourth, O for oblivion, was chosen because it did not seem to fight A, B, or AB as they would with one another. Hence the name. All of my patients had one of these four types, in either the positive or negative..."

She nodded, and momentarily looked down at the tiny wound in her arm. It was still gross to think about, him taking her blood, but it hadn't be as bad as she was expecting. And at least he looked like he was doing something useful with it.

He went on to explain some further things she didn't understand as he turned away to examine her blood. He took drops of it and put them under glass with some other drops of other blood, and then looked into the strangest thing she had seen yet.

"What is that?" she asked as he bent over the thing.

"A device Yagrum Bagarn helped me with. I have a spell for magnifying my eyesight, but it leads to troublesome headaches and other...strange side effects. This thing merely requires lenses, such as you might find in an old man's glasses."

There was a pause, and then he spoke again.

"This may take me a few minutes, go and see about getting yourself something to eat. And for my sake, don't do it up here around my specimens."

----------------------------------------------

When Haj-deek returned, Divath Fyr who had been still over whatever that little device was, looked quickly up.

"Anything?" she asked.

"Well, you're as immune as you say you are. And also what I've come to call O-, so that's an advantage to my work."

"How so?"

"It means that anyone can receive your blood, without it attacking or being attacked. With the little you've given me I've already seen some reduction of corprus in the other samples."

Haj-deek was momentarily puzzled. "How--how does that work when I have it myself? I mean...I don't feel any of the bad effects, but..."

Further explanation was soon given, and most of it went over her head. Something about "hereditary immunity" and "bodily defenses" and a whole host of other things she didn't really understand. But what was clear was that her blood was doing something to that of his patients. The blood of the others were responding in some way,

Still, after years of trying and so much failure in finding a cure, it was something - and much less fatal than that potion he had fed her mother.

"I may even be able to formulate a treatment from it...assuming there are no ill effects."

"I imagine you Telvanni wizards can do anything with magic."

"Of course we can," Divath's head raised proudly, "This could take magic of a different sort...if you wouldn't mind staying here for a week, perhaps two...and give me a little time to study your blood, perhaps provide me with a few more vials of it. If you're as eager to learn as you've been so far, it would be no chore instructing you."

He held a vial like that which he'd collected her blood in.

"As long as you only take my blood with that...that...what do you call that thing, anyway? Leeches?"

"I hadn't named them, actually...leeches, yes. I'll go with that."

And with that he was back to looking at her blood through that strange little device. She resolved to ask about it later, when he seemed more amenable to talking again.

------------------------------------

For the next week she spent the bulk of her time with Uupse and Yagrum, helping the former with the corprus victims and their various treatments, and speaking of her father and the past with the latter. Uupse applauded her for her interest one morning as she was helping dish out saltrice porridge for the patients' breakfast.

Sunchaser was having her own little meal from fish that Haj-deek had caught earlier - but outside. She seemed to adjust well enough to it, seeing as how there weren't any other cliffracers nearby...though she still preferred to stick close to the tower.

"He never gets visitors...Tel Fyr gets new people now and then, but they're usually not in good shape by the time we receive them, and not in a mood to talk. I think your presence has benefitted him greatly."

Haj-deek gave a slight smile. Yagrum had had many things to say, as the more he talked of her father and the past, the more linked memories seemed to appear. Not too many - sometimes they were only snippets, half-thought conversations, but he remembered, and that was the important part.

And more importantly, it gave her the chance to learn about her father. The moment Uupse was gone, she sought Yagrum out. He appeared to be studying her mother's journal--she'd given it to him, half wondering if there was something he could see that she didn't. Something to actually help.

"Your mother was quite the hopeful woman," he said, rubbing his eyes, "Nerevar...I don't remember him very well. I don't know if he was a hoper. He was...a man of action, though, I do remember that."

"I like doing things too," Haj-deek said, "And seeing things change because of me, but...I don't know if you'd call me someone of action just yet. Most of my life has been other people guiding me. The argonians that raised me...Vivec, for a while."

"Well, you're at that age where you start learning to make choices," Yagrum said, "So it's not your fault that you haven't made any yet. One thing I will say - don't be too much like your father. Stick to a decision if you feel it to be right, but be willing to change what you think if you're shown evidence it's not good for you. The man was stubborn, to an irritating degree, so unchangeable, unshakeable, he could not fathom being wrong most of the time."

"What worked with you?"

"Time," he said, "And multiple reminders that such behavior wasn't going to win him any favors with the people who cared for him."

"Could it really be that simple?" she asked. "He's been like this for...centuries."

"It's what worked before, who's to say it won't work now? Form a hypothesis and test it based on prior evidence. Granted, my evidence is...anecdotal..."

"Anecdotal?"

"Means it's my experience only, and not documented under studied conditions," Yagrum replied. "Now, I'm going to get to my breakfast before it goes cold. You should do the same."

Haj-deek's stomach growled in agreement, and she headed off to find Uupse again to get her own serving of the saltrice porridge.

"You've got a letter," Uupse said, after the bowl was filled, "It doesn't have a name on it."

"That's...strange." Haj-deek glanced over the envelope. "If it was anybody I knew they wouldn't...huh."

The envelope looked fairly nice, so she sat down in an alcove, near what had probably been some sort of campfire, and opened the letter. As she ate she read:

To the Nerevarine, Haj-deek

Be not afraid on receipt of this letter, if you should happen to have first ready my signature. I assure you that my actions shall not be those that you might already have heard from the dissident priests or other such unfaithful folk.

Though I have watched others come and go, my belief is that you are the child of prophecy. The time has come for you to reclaim your station. Together we can unite Morrowind once again, free from the Imperial yoke.

You are but a child, though nearly a woman you be. Allow me to guide you, for the title you carry is a heavy one. One, I am sure, you have already a deep awareness of, if your stay in Vivec City has been as long as I have heard it was. Let it not be said that Mother Morrowind, the font of mercy herself, cannot set a course ahead of the youth and help them to see the way they must go. You could be a beacon of hope, if only you will heed my words. Let the moon-and-star that adorns your hand and marks your destiny symbolize also your return to my side, though in a far different role than before.

But I must present you two warnings: there are those who seek to sway you to their own sides, away from the path of righteousness which you will soon walk. Lord Vivec, a revered god among mer as he is, has designs that are shrouded in complexity and ambiguity, as is his nature. You must be wary of seeking his counsel, lest it lead to your confusion in his wisdom at the worst possible time.

And as you no doubt have heard - you must at all costs guard your heart and mind against the evil whisperings of Dagoth Ur, the devil that plagues all of Morrowind. His influence is pure malevolence, a creeping necrosis that rots and kills all that it touches. You will be promised power and glory, but the path he would lead you down goes only one way: to ruin and despair. Do not trust him, even once, even for a moment, for the inch will be taken and the mile with it, as the saying goes. You should not have trusted him in the First Era, and you should not trust him now.

I would ask that you visit me in Mournhold. Seek out my wisdom, stand at my side, and fulfill your destiny. There are things only you can accomplish, and through me you will find all the strength you need and more to set the world right. Only you can now do what is needed - so it was with you when your name was Nerevar and you united Chimer and Dwemer, and so it shall be again.

Perhaps this time I may convince you to be less reckless, the better to preserve your life.

Signed, Almalexia, Mother of Morrowind, the Lady of Mercy

Haj-deek had for a moment an inkling of a feeling to show Almalexia the same mercy as she was planning to show to others. Something in the back of her mind stirred, weaker and yet there, a distrust of (Ayem) that would not be held back. It was Vivec, memory and the man's own mouth had said, to spear me through, but it was Ayem who I trusted most and thus who most betrayed me.

Still, perhaps she could see if these were only words, or if there was an inkling of a chance for her to change.

And if not...Vivec had once said something about Trueflame, and how Almalexia had it. Getting that sword would help...how would Vivec put it?...legitimize her as the Nerevarine nearly as much as the ring did.

The presence of a bloated corprus monster stirred Haj-deek's attention from musing on the letter. She looked up, and found the bloated thing staring at her. It sat down and seemed to inch closer.

She readied fire in her fist, which he seemed to notice. He looked at the embers, then back up, and shook his head.

They were so strange, these things. They'd never attacked her--grabbed at her, yes, but never hurt her. Most of the time they simply stared, and if she talked to them, would listen.

What were they looking for? What were they getting from this?

It reached for the letter clumsily, with a shaking hand.

"No, no, that's mine," she said, pulling it away, "Seems I'm very important these days...it's from Almalexia."

The corprus victim made an outburst--not quite a scream, but clearly an expression of pained panic.

"Oh, it's nothing to worry about. She's down in Mournhold, and I'm all the way up here. Still...if she's as eager to make up as she sounds, maybe she's sincere. It's worth checking--"

There was a groan, and a grab at her arm with its own bloated one. A clenched grip that wouldn't release, however much she pulled away. Still no attacks - but she wasn't sure he wouldn't.

"Uupse!" she called out, before looking back at the victim.

"Nnnn...nnn..." He was trying to make a sound, trying hard, she could almost feel the desperation, see the struggle, until finally a single strangled word escaped his lips, "No!"

"No?"

A painful motion, almost like he'd vomit and then two words, in a softer tone, "No...go..."

"No go...don't go? Don't go whe--what, you mean to Almalexia?"

The patient nodded eagerly.

It was then that Uupse appeared, and she was able to cast a calm spell and ease the corprus victim's hand off Haj-deek's arm.

"They aren't usually like that," she said, "What was this about?"

"I got a letter from--from Almalexia, and I said I was considering seeing her and he just--he just--" she stammered, rubbing at the sore spot on her arm where the victim had grabbed her, "He said, and I quote, 'no go.'"

"Well, you're a Nerevarine, and the Temple doesn't like Nerevarines..." Uupse shrugged, "But...this one is so far gone, I didn't think he could..."

There was a pause.

"Well, it's a good sign...in a way. Do you know a calm spell? It might be helpful if you intend to stay here much longer...it'll be good practice for those fits you keep seeing them have. And for situations like this."

Another groan from the corprus victim, as Haj-deek stood; he stood with her and stayed close. There was a sickly groan, and then both his hands moved to her shoulders.

"Oh, he must think he knows you," Uupse said, "That happens rarely with them at this stage, but the early stage infections will...get like this. It's the rotting of their mind, it causes them to think that people around them are their friends, or family...it can cause them to be familiar with those they've never met."

Haj-deek looked up at the yellowed eyes of the corprus victim, and he stared back down at her own red ones.

She expected almost anything except what came next.

This corprus-addled man, so sickly looking she could not even tell whether he was man or mer, wrapped both his arms around her and pulled her into the tightest hug she'd ever been a part of.

[lacunasbalustrade]

notes whilst writing this insufferable idol lyric docs fic

mon. 4. dec.

<the movie director’s/ designated writer for friendgroup’s thought process>

voracious jewellery collector tries to rob cute jewellery shop owner of their rings and force them to bend the knee: villainous ohohoho (jk lol)

thus the K-pop 白痴 (knows zero about K-pop) attempts to write a fic about lyric docs- what can I say I love nothing better than a challenge (borderline masochistic suspicions)

line break because this is going to be long u have been warned. this is gonna be a journal for me ignoring the fact that tumblr itself is a journal

someone is going to know my suffering at stumbling headfirst into this world of idols. likely Kyoya. but i may change my mind

where the hell are those screenshots where mio and i discussed this. if you can’t tell already I’m one of those ridiculous ppl who needs the whole guidebook of encyclopaedic references to write.

went back the entire six months worth of conversations and finally found it, cringing at my every message like my dear God intended

I’m keeping all the lyric doc tabs open so I can read whilst i write

okay not Kyoya he’s into this too much

Rouga you’re my everything you’re my soul you’re just as dead as i am about this ‘what if we just go with disaster’

don’t get me wrong I’m enjoying this I’m just the kind of person to complain about everything and bitch all the way through only to appear with a shiny smile at the end of it

that is to say i like the steep learning curve but i also like to keep myself aware of how much I’m doing so i get to laugh at myself when i say ‘no problems’ later on

what do you call that character type

nvm back to writing

we’re starting this with a voiceover because i say so. draft here “future card buddyfight is a game that connects to parallel universes and allows monsters and humans to become buddies. in the wake of global events that have shattered his reputation, Gaen Kyoya decides to restart his cult by starting an (apparently) harmless idol management agency. By traveling to other worlds on a universal tour, will his newly formed idol groups be able to compete with the local talent? Will Gaen Kyoya be able to regain his reputation as a heartthrob? Most importantly, will the press-ganged idols ever get to play Buddyfight again? an earth-shattering screech is heard from the Gaen Tower. “Daddy always told me I’d be a star!”

Gaen Kyoya gives Shido Magoroku a strained smile. He’s in it to win it whatever the game. It’s too late to back out now, although he absolutely regrets - regrets, not deserves this.

rouga is doing the voiceover. this is disaster, the world tour movie. we’re gonna keep that secret till the end of the fic. (publishes this draft instantly and fails to keep any secret) whatever movies are announced anyway and it’s more fun to hype this up.

tasuku is not in an idol group as far as i have surmised from a quick scan- over. so he’s just going to show up to every performance and laugh at them. bro finally got to catch a break (and a good laugh)

wait ILL MAKE IT SEEM LIKE ITS ENDED AND THEN FLASHBACK TO ACE IDOL GROUPS AND BE LIKE - YOU THOUGHT, SUCKER, ITS NOT OVER YET!!!!

ah. I’m publishing this draft later. Should i just delete number 15 for my reputation?

nahhhhh.

if you couldn’t tell already I’m writing this as i go so this thought process is in chronological order

i already know I’m never going to read this again this guidebook to the movie director’s thought process comes at the cost of my dignity

who am i kidding i have no such thing called dignity (meow)

this is my reference draft so I’m going to drop the cropped screenshots here for ease of rememberance

note: is polery a thing??? anyways

oh my gosh. mio u really changed two names because i liked certain options better. i love you.

I’ve become softer because now I find the options for band names I like are different (reverie, paradoxus, wishing star and hikari to tomo ni) which really makes me want to break down.

I am in a better place, a quieter place, and it shows. (charting my own growth like a parent checking their child’s height against markings on the wall)

22. there are basically two bands from first season can i really stretch the whole fic out and really make it seem like it ended with just that

23. who am I kidding I’ll be lucky if i can even stretch the fic out my highest amount of words so far is 3000 I haven’t even finished my long fic for Tasuku yet (hellooooo, my dearest procrastination)

24. in conclusion let’s just run with it. i wanna have it out in time for mio’s bday i have like a month and a day.

25. Tasuku is in the idol list. my memory be like sand flowing away with the tide

26. anyways

27. how’s that’s supposed to work

28. like i believe i could spout some nonsense about Kyoya. bribing everyone. because what good are riches except for yknow bribing people to become idols.

29. what ifff he saved a record of disaster’s ridiculous meetings and said with a straight face and smile as usual - “we’ll all sink on this ship, my friends”

30. basically blackmail. hmmm

31. i will find out when i start writing! (conclusion)

32. at first i was going to read fics to find out more about the idol industry but all the fics are au fics so that’s a bust

33. instead i am waving to chat gpt so if there’s any inaccuracy go blame Elon Musk like we do for everything under the sun

34. did Elon Musk even make chat gpt

35. I don’t care anymore that’s not relevant

work in progress for obvious reasons. will update this stupid post.

the relevant tags: note to self

also a line to your friend that kinda hit me when I was browsing by the posts to find those relevant tags:

“it’s now kinda buried under 200+ songs in my playlist, but when it plays, I never skip it.”

(italics at my own risk)

[shebeafancyflapjack]

Deception

(A very angsty follow-on from @idiotwithanipad 's fic Shared Pain, set in her "Amy -her oc- Moves On" series, ft my oc Silver)

It wasn't supposed to go this far. But things have a habit of spiralling out of control. She didn't believe in Hell, but she could understand how the road to such a place could be paved with good intentions.

The first time Humphrey's body had pulled her close, mistaking her for their departed Amy, Silver had been honest. That was a fact. She couldn't have been more clear to a being that was both deaf and blind that she was not his daughter. She'd let his hand fondle the collar of her shirt. No hoodie. Hair the wrong length. He'd known.

Hadn't he?

If only it had stopped there. If only she'd left him alone the next time, now a month after their last encounter, when she awoke to find him wandering a few feet away from her bed. Not Robin. Not Kitty. Him. Just bumbling around with his hands outstretched, fingers flexing.

Reaching out.

She'd gone to him, taking one of his hands, no ill intent in her heart.

"Were you waiting for me to wake up?" She asked, hopefully.

He hadn't heard her, of course, except the vibrations of her voice. Young. Female. Modern.

And he'd hugged her.

For the smallest of moments, she'd believed that he was there for her. That maybe, from something as awful as losing Amy, the two of them could grow closer from it?

But then his hands started to pat up her back again. Up to her collar.

Checking...

Swallowing the crushing disappointment, she'd slipped out of his embrace, but didn't let go of his hand.

Instead she tapped her foot. Two times.

She'd seen Amy do it once. A request for the body to follow, one time when the two of them had been playing a game and invited the body in to make things a bit more exciting, an obstacle to run from with its surprisingly good tracking skills.

The older man's hand squeezed hers with a buzz of excitement. Where were they going?

It didn't matter. She just...didn't want to ruin the illusion for him just yet. It was rather easy for her to see when the body was in a good mood, the way his posture straightened and there was a spring in the step of those red legs.

She was being kind. That's all. Honest.

No one was supposed to get hurt.

-

A month later.

"Head?! Head, you here?"

"Robin?!" Humphrey called back, cheek pressed against the floorboard of the abandoned bedroom, "Christ, where you been? I've been calling for one of you to come find me for ages!"

"Been distracted. Lots of Zumba." The caveman excused, picking the head up from off the floor. "We think you ask to be left alone here."

"I did! But a check in now and then to see if I changed my mind wouldn't have hurt." He tutted, "Anyway, I need you to help me find my body."

"Oh? Why that?"

"Because I think he's with Amy."

The silence that followed was deafening.

"Head-."

"Yes, yes, I know how ridiculous it sounds! But hear me out, lately I've been feeling these....I dunno how to describe it. Feedback? Is that what it's called?" He explained, knowing he may as well be preaching to the choir with wrapping their heads around tech terms. "I've always had them, usually when Body Me stubs his toe or bends down too quick, those are never nice. Then sometimes I get...nice feelings. Like if Kitty gives it a hug or....when he and Fanny were doing the unimaginable."

Both he and Robin cringed at that. Not something either cared to remember as a canon event.

"But never moreso than when...she was here." Humphrey sighed, longingly; "I always felt when them too were off playing together or having a cuddle or whatever. I thought that was severed when she moved on but...I've been feeling it again. These little bursts of happiness. It's gotta be her."

The caveman sat on the bed and looked his old friend in the eye, perching his severed neck on his knees.

"Stompy gone up to stars, Head. That not changed." He told him matter of fact, but gently. "Maybe you mistake good feels for-."

"C'mon, mate. Dad to Dad here. If you were wearing a blind fold and had your ears stuffed with cotton, and one of your kids threw their arms around you, you honestly telling me you wouldn't be able to tell if it was them?!"

That pieced the ancient spirit's logical armor somewhat, Humphrey could tell. He knew mentioning Robin's kids was a touchy subject, one he'd never willingly bring up in case necessary to prove a point.

"You that sure it her?" He asked.

"Positive. D'you know where he is?"

"No, but can track. Body you leave distinct trail." The caveman stood up, "...You sure you want to see? May not like what find."

"Impossible. It's gotta be her, I'll show you."

Maybe he'd lost his mind a bit, weeks stuck alone in Amy's old room, in partially self imposed isolation, staring at the windowsill where he'd sometimes catch her sitting and looking out at four in the morning, and he'd have to prompt her to - finally - go to bed.

But what else could possibly bring his other self so much joy if not her? No matter what, he had to see.

"Fine. No say me not warn. Lets go."

Robin's hands then clutched him to his side, covering both his ears and his eyes. Humphrey muffled, demanding to know why that was necessary or to take better care before he poked his eye out.

No matter. He was going to his little girl. He knew he shouldn't have believed that ugly leper who claim to witness her move on. Something else must have happened, something to cause her to get lost or....some reason that kept her away that he'd soon find out. They'd get to the bottom of it.

It's all right, Poppet. Dad's coming.

-

"Personally, I find it to be very sweet."

"Thanks, Kitty." Silver smiled at her friend, choosing to ignore the snide remarks of the other ghosts in the room.

Julian scoffed; "Please! You'd find a lemon soaked in vinegar sweet!"

"I merely asked if it was necessary for you to bring it-."

"Him, Thomas." Silver corrected, squeezing the hand of the body sat beside her.

The poet rolled his eyes; "Fine, must you bring 'him' into every room you enter?"

"I agree, he does bring an unseemly and disturbing ambience with his appearance." Commented the Edwardian matriarch.

Silver scoffed; "Oh but that turned you on when you two were in private, right?"

"She's got you there." Julian quipped.

"Can I please get back to telling you all my Risk victory?" Captain raised his voice.

"I never thought I'd say this but, yes, go on Cap."

She threw a final look at Thomas, Julian and Fanny to shut them up before they turned their attention back to the Captain's mind-numbingly boring tale.

Not that she was actually listening, instead playing a thumb war with Humphrey's body. It was one of a few games they'd come into the habit of enjoying together. Trying to find activities to enjoy that didn't involve sight or sound was an interesting challenge. The clapping-nursery-rhymes she used to play with her nieces was another one he seemed to love, especially trying to do them as fast as possible.

There was an innocent, childlike whimsy she felt hanging around with Humphrey's body, leading him carefully by the hand and helping him avoid walking through livings or falling into holes. She'd grown to feel oddly protective over him, which was ironic considering how Amy always said he'd often grab her and hold her close like he felt an instinct to shield her from unseen dangers.

Subtly, she tapped his foot with her own, to which he nudged her back. A silent agreement. Once this dull story was finished, they'd make their exit. Maybe walk across the golf course together, find an empty spot, sit and practice communicating through morse code (thanks Pat) or writing with their fingertip-

Julian's head perked up from where he'd been close to nodding off at the sound of two boots crossing the threshold.

"Ah, Ape! You finally made it. God knows why."

Cap let out a sigh; "Great, now I'll have to start my story right at the beginning."

Everyone let out a groan of annoyance, but Robin seemed to ignore them.

He was walking through the room, briskly, heading straight towards where Silver and Humphrey sat.

It took her a moment to recognise what he was carrying in his hands.

"Robin, what-." She got to her feet, but didn't let go of the hand in hers.

He gave her a look like none she'd seen from him before. It made her blood run cold.

No...

"Here. This your Stompy."

A twist, a click, and he slotted Humphrey's head up onto his body.

Everyone was quiet as their graves, watching as the Tudor straightened his neck and turned his gaze towards the teenager clutching his hand.

"Poppet, is it-."

A blink.

Silver's mouth went dry.

"....Humphrey, I...." She was at a loss for words. The way the light in his eyes was rapidly dimming made her feel sick to her stomach.

He dropped her hand as if it burned.

"You're not....You're not her...." He said, stepping back.

"I..."

"Not who? What's going on?" Asked Kitty.

"Hump Head think Hump Body with Stompy." Explained Robin, coldly.

Fanny scoffed; "Well I know the husk can't see but I can attest that it's not completely oblivious. How on Earth would it mistake Silver for his own daughter?"

"Good question."

All eyes rounded on Silver. She flinched, feeling as though she was suddenly shrinking under their gaze.

"I...I may not have...been clear...."

Kitty gasped; "Oh, Silvy."

That hurt. The guilt that she'd been running from since this started suddenly struck her like a thunderbolt. It would be bad when the sweetest ghost who ever existed was ashamed of her.

"Let me get this straight. The reason Humphrey's body has been accompanying you around...is because it believed you were Amy?" Asked Cap.

A beat. Then Silver nodded.

Pat chuckled; "Oh I'm sure it's all just a misunderstanding. Ain't that right, petal?"

She wanted the ground to swallow her up. Fuck being sucked off or ascending. Just let her disappear.

Biting her lip, she met Humphrey's hurt expression.

"....I'm sorry." He was the only one she owed any apology too.

He stared at her, looking utterly betrayed.

"Why?" He asked, voice barely a whisper.

"I dunno, I just...It seemed to make you...Body you happy. It seemed to be the only other one still grieving like I....like we were." She tried to explain; "When I'd...tap and sign and touch it like I saw Amy do...It seemed harmless to just let him think-."

"Me. I was the one thinking it, Silver." He told her, voice turning sharp.

She winced, beginning to tremble; "I never meant to upset you. It all seemed harmless. I had no idea you could feel what he did, I just...saw him all alone and wanted to make him feel better."

"And me?! You didn't give a toss to come check on me?! See if maybe this little charade of yours was affecting me?!"

"You asked to be left alone! He didn't! He needed someone and I...I just wanted to help."

She turned, seeing the many eyes of judgement fixed on her. Rage began to burn in her chest.

"Should I have just ignored him?! Like all you did?! Just let him wander, alone and grieving?!"

"Showing kindness is one thing. Tricking the poor man is another matter." Captain tells her.

"Oh but it's fine when you lot wanna gaslight Kitty into letting her believe her sister actually loved her?!"

"Leave her out of this." Robin said, reaching to step in front of the Georgian who flinched at the remark.

"But it's true! It's one rule for me and another for the rest of you! You're all just as bad! Why else do you think Alison was so keen to get away from you all?!"

Now she went too far. And she knew it.

At Kitty's whimper, Pat reached out to take her hand. Hurt shone on Thomas' face while Cap and Fanny merely glared daggers at the Pagan.

"Disgraceful behavior." The Edwardian muttered.

"G-guys...I didn't mean..."

"Think you've made yourself perfectly clear, young lady." The soldier spoke, before leading the others out of the room before Kitty could start crying.

Everyone except Humphrey. And Robin.

Tears in her eyes, Silver looked back to the Tudor; "I'm sorry. I really am. I was....hoping to explain it to him....to you, slowly."

"...Why didn't you come see me yourself after it started? Tell me the truth." Humphrey asked, sounding painfully old.

"....I guess I...M-maybe part of me liked...pretending..." She missed Mary. She missed having a parent. Amy was with her 'mum' now, she hoped, surely it was only fair that she...

Stupid. Stupid, stupid, Silver.

"Please don't hate me." She begged him.

He shook his head, looking at his feet; "You gave me hope, then took it away. I never thought you were capable of anything like that. I don't hate you, Silv. I'm just...really disappointed in you."

Fuck. Everyone knows that's worse.

"Humphrey-." She tried to reach for his hand, her voice breaking.

He stepped away.

"Just...leave me alone, yeah? Leave us both alone."

With a wave of his cloak, he turned his back on her and stomped out of the room, disappearing through the wall.

Only one remained in the room with her now.

The first and the last.

"Why....?" It was her turn to ask.

She turned to him.

"Why did you do that to me?"

Robin's arms were crossed over his chest; "It not about you. You hear him. He believe Stompy return, because you lie."

"Why do it like that?! Why did you have to show me up in front of everyone?! How did that help me or him?!"

"You left me no choice. He go everywhere with you."

"You could've waited till it was just the two of us. Now it's not just Humphrey who's upset with me, but no one else wants to be near me either!"

"Me not make you say mean thing. Not make you bring up Alison."

"The fuck you did!" She screamed, moving to shove him in the chest; "You corner me like a fucking animal, how do you expect me to react?!"

He didn't reply to that, a twinge of guilt on his face before it was masked with the same unnatural coldness it held since he entered the room.

"Why? Just tell me why?" She asked. "Tell me why the person I thought was my best friend just hurt me like that?"

Another wince, along with a hint of surprise. Then he set his jaw, resolute.

"It because me your friend. Do it for Moonah Girl's own good." He tells her, though even he doesn't sound like he believes such bullshit; "When I see you first walk 'round with body, it seem no harm. Sweet, even. Think nothing of it. Then me notice you copy Stompy with tappy and not let him touch shirt. But still you let him give you hug. You get him to carry you to forest bed when sleepy-."

"Was that it?! Were you fucking jealous because for the first time since I died, you're not the most important bloke in my life?!"

Robin stared at her, then scoffed; "That seriously where you go with this?! Me know what it mean to go mad! Me know how dangerous it be to live in fake world in head! Me trying to teach you it wrong to mess with emotions-!"

"And what the fuck do you know about emotions?! You pretend to be above all that anyway! Oh nothing upsets Robin, he's been around too much to care about losing anyone anymore! I found someone to share my pain with and you ruined it!"

"So should have let you carry on tricking Hump body? Let Hump head believe Stompy back? Just so poor Moonah Girl can pretend someone love her?"

"Fuck you! You know nothing about love! You'd rather be all clever and above it all!" She unleashed, angry tears in her eyes, shouting in his face; "But you know what? Maybe that's what's keeping you here, while everyone you claim to have loved moved on without you. Maybe the reason you’ll never leave, is because you've forgotten what it means to be a real human being!"

He stared at her, wordless, a tornado of emotion in his eyes. Those eyes that were older than certain stars in the sky. Older than the foundations of the house they stood upon.

She didn't back down. They had never faught before, not like this, never could she have imagined saying something so nasty. But she was done feeling sorry for him. If he wouldn't grant her sympathy in her darkest moment then what did she owe him?

Robin stepped closer to her.

"Silly. Selfish. Little girl." He hissed at her, raw pain scratching his voice; "Think everything just game. People only toys to play with. Not care about consequence. This why Mary hate witches."

She winced.

"....M-Mary didn't hate witches."

The caveman's lip twisted, cruelly; "Then why she try to burn you?"

Her heart thudded.

It was a lie. A sick joke.

"....That didn't happen. She wouldn't..." Silver began to shake. "....She never tried to hurt me."

"You not see. You sleep. But I see. Me got there just in time. Me stop her. Moonah Girl be Moonah Bacon if not for-."

She slapped him.

Robin stumbled back, less from the force than the shock. He blinked, feeling at his cheek, and something seemed to shift in his eyes. He looked at her, the cruelty and anger suddenly melting away, literally smacked out of him. But it was too late. Too many lines had been crossed.

He opened his mouth, seemingly in disbelief at his own words, before he tried to reach for her.

"Don't!" She stepped back, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"....Sil'ver-."

"Don't worry. We're done. I won't bother any of you again. Just stay the fuck out of my woods, and I'll stay away from here."

She turned, fleeing as fast as she could for the door. If he wanted to, he could easily catch up to her, easily stop her. If he wanted. But she knew that wasn't going to happen.

As she strode briskly across the golf course, she wrapped her arms around her middle, sobs wracking their way up and out of her chest.

Just take her up. Take her away. Please.

Take her away.

Take her away.

Take her away.

Take her away.

[bentosandbox]

hell yea comics. 10, 23, 30, 40, 41 if you like

10. How do you decide what to write?

A little parasite in my brain says hmm today i will do thing and i just roll with the cringe

23. What’s a trope, AU, or concept you’ve never written, but would like to?

omegaverse i think it'd be extra fun when it's 2 emotionally constipated office workers vs a pairing like texlapp whoa who said that does 'daydreamed and doodled a bit but didn't start on anything solid yet' count as never written if yes its then wuxia AU where chen and lin switch places kinda (basically want to extrapolate that part in chen's op rec where the rat king invited her underground)

30. Have you ever written something that was out of your comfort zone? If so, what was it, and how did it affect your approach to writing fic thereafter?

this chen and hoshi one technically but also the chen and swire one that i still havent posted in english so sorryyyyy (i wrote them at the same time iirc.. just didnt have time to draw the second one until later)

first time i forced myself to write internal monologues AND angst in an actual script on google docs instead of just dumping lines i want characters to say in my own discord server channel shoutout to my friend who gassed me up with the comments they left on the doc lmao 'damn i wanna make the angsty af introspective comics i always see' > 'wait damn i have to make it myself fawjkkkkkkkk'

idk if it affected my approach because the Very Serious chen and Lin character study comic i had planned ended up being a shitposty copybook so i went back to my old style of smashing dialogue in a notepad (if the anon that sent the ask about this comic sees this sorry i got cold feet and i still havent exported it out of my tablet)

40. Do you tend to reread fics or are you a one-and-done kind of person?

we don't have a choice do we...

i did just reread the fic i mention below tehe i do reread CN fics way more because sometimes ill be lazy and read it through machine translate while other times i'll sit down and try to translate it (in my head) while EN fics have an easier time searing into my mind

41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.”

its not cheating right

fr tho to write fever dream-esque(?) scenarios that end in girlfail...!!

ok the chenswire one aside the nearl one is also a favourite something about looking at the tired human through the chinks in the infallible knight's armor

[thesixthplaneteer]

Day 3 OC-tober - Old OC!

This is going to be a rambling personal story post. OC stuff under the break. The first DnD character I made was Groglag a half-orc fighter but the people I played with instilled the feeling of cringe in me about getting too attached to your own characters. They were pretty old school DnD players and this is before crit role and other shows so the idea of being super into your character to make stories about them or grand self serving plotlines was shunned. So in some sense Groglag is the first OC because thanks to getting over the cringe of playing DnD and enjoying it I've been able to get into an amazing creative hobby and head space. That's also a lot thanks to my wife. She's the one that showed me the comic shop that I eventually started playing DnD at and she's the one that helped release me from my shell and not baulk at doing things because others look down on it. She's helped me become who I am now and create the amazing characters and stories I/we have. I think the character where there was a turning point for all this was Derrick Kendrick, The Boy King. I'll share more about him below the break but he was an NPC in a DnD game I ran with my wife and some friends. Her interest in him and genuinely wanting to know more about him and the world when I thought he would be just a quest giver made him into a main stay of my OCs.

Derrick Kendrick - The Boy King

Derrick is the first born son of the third born son of the king of the Moon Shae isles. War against invaders and war amongst the islands themselves weighed heavy on Derrin, Derrick's grandfather. Tragedy brought him low as he lost his two eldest sons to the seemingly endless campaigns before they had children of their own. When Derrick was fifteen, his parents grew ill and died of a sickness the druids of the Moon Wells could not cure. Now all that survived of the Kendrick line was Derrick and his grandfather. His grandfather was old, the wars he fought had wrecked havoc on his body, and the loss of his sons had wrecked havoc on his mind. He abdicated to Derrick at the behest of his advisor Kell. Kell was a new but promising addition to the court, helping Derrick rule as a good king and eventually bringing many of the conflicts to a resolution.

Lots of adventures and chance meetings later

Derrick is married to a Triton named Coral (wife's OC) who was brought ashore in a fishing boat during a Sahuagin invasion and they now have many many children as they rule over a united Moon Shae Isles until their second eldest is ready and Derrick hands down the crown to his daughter.

Fun story facts,

Their eldest child is a druid so he didn't become king

Derrick and Coral were forced to flee the isles after Derrick's grandfather was revealed to be a terrible terrible man and a werebear. They eventually came back and kicked his butt though.

Derrick is also a werebear although it took a while to manifest

Kell is actually an Elf in disguise and is Derrick's great great great great grandfather

The Kendrick line is technically human but they got just about everything but demon and dragon mixed in there.

The first Kendrick that made landfall on the islands was married to a frost giantess and they brought with them a sapling from the tree of life.

In the courtyard of the castle is the Rainbow Tree. The sapling from the tree of life with a menagerie of transplants from fruit bearing trees all around the world. The druids on the island will bring back a limb of a fruit bearing tree when they return from being off island.

[eggsnatcheskneecaps]

i have a question ab transformers and im too scared to google it bc of what i think ill find but is there anything in canon that tells you if transformers reproduce??? and like how? do they have some sort of build-a-baby or smth??? sorry i know its late and this is absurd but its been plaguing mind for 4h now and i had to ask

Fjgng you're right to be afraid of what you'll find. There... Is a sea of fics out there.

The fandom has an extremely well curated Wikipedia, so if you're up for something more in depth, read through this article or browse through other ones.

Anyway, this is an excuse to ramble about Transformers >:) but I'll give you info on just the medias I've consumed, or know enough of.

The answer more broadly, there are cannon forms of reproduction, not sexual, per say, but the Transformers writers have a. Well. Long and weird relationship with Cybertronians having sex and especially pregnancies (yeah, you heard me right-)

To start off:

1. In one of the really old TF comics, we have a couple formed of a human woman (Cover Girl) and Brawn. They are married and also, they have a child. ...the child is not adopted. I don't if it's stated how they got there, but y'know.

2. In Beast Wars, we get protoforms.

In multiple continuities, they are basically the first stage in a robot's life. Kind of like infants. All they need is a spark (soul) and alt mode code (what they transform into) in order to develope into a fully grown Cybertronian.

The weird thing with this tho, is that you'll have characters such as Cheetor, who have been here from the start, and they'll be treated like the teenager of the group (although he IS the child appeal character), but then you'll see the ones who come along later, such as Silverbolt, who are immediately treated as an adult with full agency. Sigh.

But that's not all on reproduction in this show.

You have Rattrap at some point talk about... Bars on their home planet where waitresses walk around tits out, basically.

There are also some sex jokes, if I remember correctly. The femme fatale character takes a rod to cut it, her boyfriend cringes, and another one calls her emasculating.

For less cannon stuff that still sprung out of here; the official artists who worked on the show made a 3D render of Dinobot (main character) with... Dinobot Jr. Out on full display.

Also, at some point during the show production, someone decided to play a prank on someone else in the studio by submitting a pornographic parody of the episode script they should have originally given. Why does the fandom know this? It was leaked way back in the day before the episode aired.

Anyway, can you imagine being some poor fool thinking you're getting some exciting leaks to read and instead you get smacked with porn of the character who's literally inspired after Hannibal Lecter- also he transformers into a crab.

3. In Transformers Animated, protoforms make another return.

They basically work about the same way as they do in Beast Wars, except this time, we get Sari.

She's a protoform that somehow landed on earth, and her father, a human, touched it, which caused her to imprint on his DNA and become a hybrid.

In this show we also get several instances of objects being hit by the power of a Cybertronian relic, and making them come to life. Now, I don't know if they count as Cybertronians, since they are random ass earth objects, but they have a consciousness. Also, the same relic has been shown to be able to bring back Transformers from the dead. So.

...........

Ok. So. I received this ask forever ago, I'm so sorry for not getting to it. I've gotten busy and I can unfortunately feel my cognitive dysfunction kicking in, so I'll try to just get this done, but it'll be less detailed from now on and kinda disjointed.

Plus I was a while into writing this part and I lost the progress-

So. IDW1. The comics. They are a mess and weird.

Also, I read these years ago and I don't really remember the details.

You have hot spots on the home planet or moon. That create sparks (from the ground). Sparks can also pop out from Cybertronian relics, such as The Matrix.

Titans (HUUUUUUGE Cybertronians. They turn into cities or battle ships) may also carry hotspots that make robo babies.

Sparks harvested from this sort of thing either become cold constructs or forged. I'm not going to go into technicalities, but basically cold constructs are sparks who were taken and placed in a premade body and forged were allowed to develope naturally. If they are having trouble, a blacksmith may help them along by shaping their body. Or so I recall, at least.

I think I remember a mention in the comics about "A turbofox in heat". Turbofoxes are Transformers animals.

IDW1 also... Sports a lot of allusions to pregnancies. And. Pregnancies in general.

A lot of metaphors for pregnancies. Character is in a coma for 9 months. Another one gets a body upgrade and the entire thing is reminiscent of birth- an actual Cybertronian being mpreg with an organic alien------

^btw there was no narrative significance for this last one to happen

And. One of the main writers had... two? fanfics before he started writing cannon works. Telefunken and Eugenesis. Robots giving birth- to be fair, from their chests, from what I've heard. But the entire thing. It's. It's yeah.

Now!

IDW2.

Kiddies pop out of the ground. They are given one or two mentors. Mentors help them along to find what they want to transform into and their future jobs.

Earthspark, the Nickelodeon show, has come out pretty recently and I haven't watched it, but I think it has 3 robot kids as main characters! From what I know, they also popped out of the ground, except this time on Earth.

^also this one is canonically non binary sob

Transformers: Prime

I thiiiiiink they say Cybertronians pop out of The Well Of All Sparks? Which is a hole in their planet. Don't remember it being explored much. In the movie, a bunch of sparks fly out of it by the end, but I think it was a sort of- everybody gets revived! Yay!

The live action movies. Are also. Trippy

The ones directed by Micheal Bay are shit, but I gotta talk about them. You've got robots being sexual and creepy. But you also have sparklings. They pop out of goo eggs- I don't remember if in these movies energon or other relics posses and bring to life - I think they do tho.

However, that's an occurrence in the Bumblebee movie.

PS: I thought I posted this before I was done and I had a heart attack

[i-am-very-heck]

so this is the "v and rufus talk about s" fic! its somewhat long so ill be throwing under a readmore. hope yall like it!

"Y'mind heading to Venus? I don't want to leave you waiting here for a while... Savvy?"

"I follow, I'll head that way now. Seeya later."

Obie shoots V a wink as he walks off into the steam tunnels to find the exit. V's face erupts into a deep shade of red.

They shake the incoming thoughts out of their mind and take a deep breath, psyching themself up to enter the unlabeled steam room turned secret lab. This was important. They opened the door.

"Hey, Rufus? You got a minute?" They called out.

Rufus looks up from his book. He was sitting at the table in his very compressed normal living area.

"Of course. What's going on?"

V sat down at the table with him. It was clear they were quite anxious about it. They spoke as clearly as they could.

"I'm just all balled up about this and you're the only person I could go to about it..."

"...What was S like?"

Rufus cocked his head at V, he was confused.

"Couldn't you ask Susie? I mean, she is your mother.. right? She would probably know more about S than me."

…

"... I've tried. She never told me much. Momma always kept things bottled up and away from me, even as an adult. I've just had to piece together an image of him from remnants of the past."

V was fidgeting with their ring. Rufus' expression shifted to a more solemn one. He slid a bookmark between the pages of the book he was reading and set it to the side.

"I see. Well, in that case, I'll try my best to answer your questions about her. Anything specific you'd like to know?"

V thought for a moment.

"What was she like to you?"

"Hah. S was a troublemaker, that's for sure, but they always had a kind heart for the people and things they cared about. One time she brought home a racoon from the forest while it was pouring because, and I quote, 'It looked so sad out there!'"

"Even though he barely understood a lick of the books I read, he always was so supportive. He would also tease me relentlessly about being a nerd, despite being just as much, if not more of a nerd than me!"

Rufus smiled at the thought.

"And.. While I've only known you for a couple days, I can see you've picked up his adventurous spirit."

V had been nodding along with the cadence of his speech up until he had said that. They looked up at him.

"... Really?"

"Really."

...

"I have more questions."

"Go ahead."

"Why did they even leave for the north in the first place? I've read a lot of conflicting articles on the subject and I just want to know."

"Well, the short answer is to help people. They heard about the problems the cows were causing out there and wanted to help as many people as they could."

V raised an eyebrow.

"And the long answer?"

"She wanted adventure and the little farm we lived on just couldn't supply it anymore. You can only go wandering in the forest so many times before it loses its magic, you know. Though, he wasn't lying when he said he wanted to help people. I know that. He sent a postcard every day he was on his adventure, telling me about the people he'd helped and the wacky things he did and saw. I didn't understand his reasons when I was fourteen, but I understand them now."

"Oh, I see. Well, that's inte- wait. They wrote you postcards?"

V stared intently at Rufus for the answer. He rubbed his neck sheepishly.

"Er, Yeah? I wrote letters back if that matters."

V's staring didn't cease, but it was clear they were processing some things in their head.

"... Rufus, my buddy, my pal... Your signature sucked."

Rufus was bewildered.

"What?"

"Your letters. S kept 'em and I ended up finding them while looking through her stuff that Momma kept. I couldn't decipher the signature for the life of me, even with her help. If I had figured it out I would've been in contact with you way sooner."

He seems to cringe a little.

"Oh gosh, sorry about that."

"Don't be sorry, it doesn't matter now anyways. But, uh... Would you still happen to have S' side of the letters?

"I do."

"Please spill it."

"Alright, alright, let me go grab them."

Rufus stands up and walks towards his bookshelf. Kneeling down, he grabbed a small beat-up box from the bottom shelf. He returns to the table and sets the box down with a soft 'clonk'. It was slid over to V to view.

"These are the postcards S wrote to me in their heyday. But, as more time passed the postcards I got were few and far between. I'm pretty sure the last one I got..."

Rufus pauses and pulls out a postcard from the bottom of the box and skims through it before offering it to V.

"... was about you."

V takes the postcard and begins reading.

Dear Rufus,

Sorry for no letter in a while! I've been having a time the past couple of months... This past week actually has been really interesting, though! Me and Susie recently released a little bundle of joy into the world and they're so cute... We haven't decided on a name yet, but yeah! You're an uncle now! I sketched them in the corner so you know what they look like. Hope you're doing okay!

Sincerely, S

As promised, in the corner of the postcard is a sketch of an infant being swaddled in a blanket.

"Huh. Well, that's one way to announce a child."

V carefully picked up the stack of postcards out of the box, making sure to put the one they'd just read at the bottom.

"I'm just gonna... speed through these all, 's that jake?"

Rufus nodded.

"Go ahead. Just be careful with them, these old postcards are sort of fragile."

"Gotcha."

They begin reading and damn there are a lot of exclamation marks here. There's also plenty of talk of sidequests, stuff like a chef needing things, a nun needing purple grass, ttrpg nerds having fun, jellybean finding, etc, etc. One of the more vivid stories involve a circus and the weird things involved there, the sideshows, the clowns, and the nature of the ringmaster. There is also a surprising amount of violence described in a cheerful tone, like at least four instances of something like "I killed a bandit gang!!! Their screams were funny and I stole their bones."

On a less distressing note, he sure did help out! Helped with trains, helped kill a big necromancer, helped trap some big evil cow guy, and helped keep some weird future guy at bay? That's just swell.

V set the postcards back in the box and they stare at the table, very unsure about how to feel.

"That was much more than I bargained for and I really don't know what to do with this information now. Genuinely, what the hell did I just read?"

"The north was a wild, wild, place back then. It might be better to think about it later."

"... Y'know what? I think I'll do that, my head is spinning from this."

V stands up from the table and floats over to the exit.

"Thanks for answering my questions and I hope you have a swell day."

And with that, they left.

[kogetaikid]

The Fast-Paced Thirst for ✨CHEAP DOPAMINE🤡

(TW? MILD/MODERATE Mental Illness/Suicidal Ideation mention)

I'm always lecturing my own classmates in my animation class WHO ARE OLDER THAN ME, on how addicted they are to their devices. Coming up with more creative, poetic, yet brutal ways of stating their severe hunger pangs for silicone cocaine with their responses either being ever so slightly annoyed or straight up not caring, giving me the same "type shit" response. The only time I can recall a differing response was when the senior who sat next to me (we'll call him O /nbh) complemented on my creativity. I accepted to complement. Such event took place weeks ago, so I don't exactly recall what I said, but all I know is that none of it made a dent in his thinking.

Yesterday, O had to put his phone in a box for the rest of the period like everyone else does. He tends to lie that he doesn't have it or that it "broke". He put his head down as I drew away with most of my work completed. Around fifteen or so minutes later, I saw him on his computer watching and scrolling away for milliseconds at YouTube shorts. I told him something among the line of:

"How sad. With your phone taken away, you must resort to YouTube shorts on your computer, and even then you can't get past one video." - Kogetai 11/13/2024 (Yes, This is prewritten cause I'm not gonna have the time to post stuff today)

He paid no mind to me. If he said something, it was most likely a clone of all his other unbothered responses.

Today after school I thought on it a little more. I thought about when I was I kid (going onto tween) and discovered and went onto social media for the first time. (I know I sound young af right now but I can assure you that I've now been old enough to use social media for more some time now and that I have an attention span of four I assume around six OTGW episodes, maybe more depending on the content and interest.) It was the height of the pandemic and TikTok has been what all the cool kids are doing, amiright?!

(Keep reading if you want me to get to the point, but just a quick heads up, it's gonna get a tad bit personal)

It was also when my parents were getting divorced. My dad got a new girlfriend and also started to emotionally torment me, and my mom because SUPER SPIRITUAL all of a sudden out of nowhere, and not in a good way.

I was becoming really depressed and was contemplating killing myself via impact of jumping off my bedroom balcony (SPOILERS: You know all those drawings I make of Melody sitting on a balcony? It's kinda based off of that.) I turned to TikTok and made cringe videos of my cat (he was a kitten at the time) or cartoons I liked. It eventually turned more towards cartoons. I LOVED all things CRINGE and BRAINROT. I would indulge and praise it on the daily basis. I wanted all my own stories to be based on cringe.

I didn't see any sort of consequence until I got older and my mental health kinda stabilized. It hasn't been until a couple years ago that I started to notice how kids my age were so hooked on this type of content that no one would take things seriously anymore, or listen to anyone anymore. All they cared about was their sweet, CHEAP DOPAMINE. Such a precious endless source of happiness that you can't live without. Practically cocaine made of silicone and metals. Even seniors act like six graders over the CHEAP DOPAMINE.

A reminder then chimed within my neurons. A reminder on how I wasn't the only kiddo to have gone through a mental health crisis in 2020. Almost everyone did. and due to the CHEAP DOPAMINE being a stand-in for anti-depressants, most people (especially those on the younger side, Gen Z and Alpha) haven't the strength to bounce back from their leisure.

[waypastkewl]

It's been nearly 10 years

I was broken up with in August nearly 10 years ago. We went from best friends to something more, but I've loved her for years before that. We met in high school, but I was too shy to make a move , and then she was swooped up by a friend of mine. Then when they broke up, she was taken for the rest of my years there. Sure, I've had crushes afterward, and even one big first love (whose bridge I burnt because-…actually I cannot remember why, but I know I did a lot of damage to hear, and I'm sorry), but I always know I carried a torch for her. And even after high school, for 3 more years. That's seven years, dearest gentle reader. I've held various, always changing feelings for this girl for seven years. Even when I entered my first ever relationship. Even when I took my first love whose bridge I burnt to the prom. Even during college when I had my first long term committed relationship. I've held a flame for her. And when time came for me to realize my feelings, I discovered that she felt the same way too. Not the years of buildup thing, but we've had years to cultivate a friendship and eventually it…just bloomed.

We were dating. We were in love.

And I was the king of the fucking world.

A year and some change passes by, and I started to notice when her eyes looked at me differently. Somewhere in my immature and underdeveloped mind, I knew something was slowly changing in her heart, and it wouldn't be 'til years later when I accepted that it was my fault.

When it happened I knew it was coming, but I just didn't want to believe it, and I never truly got my closure on why. Instead, I became a sexist, misogynistic, all-kinds-of-phobic asshole- laughing at humor the me of today cringes at, saying shit for shock value and attention, doubling down on my hatred of the community I just wanted to become a part of to be closer to the people I should have wanted to be closer to, instead of judging them constantly for their fun and their existence. The anger was the worst part. It manifested in ways that affected friendships and relationships that ultimately didn't last. And it took me another big relationship since then to realize I knew the answer as to why she broke up with me.

All of my ill-managed anger issues, my performative personality, my desperate want for attention and acceptance. My deep-seated hatred for the peers that didn't accept me, and my even deeper resentment of the group that did. My ignorance of the fact that I was a huge fucking problem that needed to be stopped. I was this performative joke of a human being that emulated all the traits I thought would draw people to me. I thought I oozed charisma and charm and confidence, but I was never narcissistic, because deep down I hated myself more than anything in the world. It was because of me that she left. It was because of me that I stayed in a toxic situation for too long. It was because of me that I pushed people away and then grew angry with them for leaving.

She should have left me and blocked me and never looked back. She wanted to be friends, and I missed her so much. But I burned that bridge and made myself to be the victim. Doubled down in hatred of her kind and gave up loving the things that I once loved because I knew she would be there. And I blamed the wrong things. I know this now.

Underneath it all was the depression- or should I say it was the blanket that wrapped up the whole package in one. I drank. So much. I tried the unalvng. In various forms, all very unsuccessful because I was a fucking idiot. One time very nearly successful, but before I could take a step onto that track I fell to my knees and had my first ever panic attack. And it wasn't until I stared into the bright light coming down the tunnel that I flung myself backwards and hyperventilated and clutched at myself until I calmed down. The eyes around me judging (I assumed), and the self-loathing formed there and grew. Of course no one in that crowd was going to stop a stranger from walking onto the tracks. Not when I look like me, and they've got places to be.

I've taken years to work on myself. Slipping up every so often and checked her socials, hell, sometimes I've caught myself stealing a glance at her profile on private. Part of me thinks she caught on, and hid all her posts. Go figure. I'm a discussing creature. A hideous abomination. A waste of a life. My current partner is loving and caring and though I have my disagreements with her, it's because of my lack of understanding and my aversion to pivoting and specificity with routines and- I'm an undiagnosed autistic. Oh wow. It took me years to understand. And my current partner made it her mission to help me help myself and her understand myself better. To help me stop viewing things from a survivor's lens and try to look at things with emotional understanding, rather than logic my way out of it. Only in recent years I've discovered I may have some undiagnosed neurodivergence, and like everyone else, some overwhelming anxiety and depression. But man I've tried so hard to work on myself. I've discovered so many things since 10 years ago, dearest gentle reader.

I hate being the center of attention. I hate the loud and obnoxious voices and personalities. I hate the unnecessary discrimination against the things people don't understand. People are just trying to live- why do people still exist who insist on denying their right to live? Society is a fucking joke. All the wrong things have been perpetually and systematically encouraged, to the point where we can say we want to accept others but we just- we really don't. The homophobia and transphobia- does it really make people feel good to put people down for living who they want and expressing their identity in a way that enables them to feel like they were meant to feel and be who they were meant to be?! Years I've fought against the usage of pronouns, and now I'm a fucking non-binary because I refuse to be labeled, and I feel the way I want to fucking feel and wear what I want to wear.

I'm afraid. I'm afraid of crowds. I get socially exhausted and need to recharge for long periods of time. I just wanna stay in my room and hide away from the world- especially because no one fucking understands we're still in a pandemic with new strains coming out and people still don't cover their mouths properly. I'm the only one in my family who still wears a mask because I'm fearful of catching it. I understand the mask is more protecting for others, than for protecting myself, but if I'm going to be really honest with you, dearest gentle reader, I've always wanted to wear a mask: the pandemic gave me justification to hide my face from the rest of the world so they don't see who I really am: afraid, depressed, and uncomfortable.

Sure, I've checked on her now and again, but it's been years since I've pined for her. It's been years since I've longed for her. And my partner sometimes tells me that she thinks my ex and I could be close friends if we ever met again. That maybe she would like to get to know the new me. The very soft, enby who takes anxiety medication and wears more than just black all the time, who hides the fact that they just want to be accepted by the people that matter and doesn't ever want to be contacted by their old friend group ever again because of the groupthink that made them grew tired of that dynamic. Maybe she'd like to know that I love anime again, and that One Piece is my favorite fucking thing in the world. My partner is the greatest woman in the planet, and she thinks that my biggest ex and I could be close friends again, and that she'd like to give her a chance after years of my twisted narrative, victimizing myself and self-pity.

I'd like that too.

But recently I saw her again. It was Sunday at a night market. I went with my partner and our close friend, and upon arrival I saw her. How could I forget her. She looked like she hadn't aged a day. She was with two of her close friends, women I didn't recognize, but I'm so proud of her- look at her having friends. Last I saw, she was in a loving open relationship with her partner, and they're very loving and happy together. Some context: I've known she's been in a relationship with this person since a month or so after dumping my ass, and before I unfollowed her and her family on socials I saw their budding relationship. I even encountered her on dating apps over the years during the times I was single and saw she was in a very happy open relationship. Maybe they were polyamorous. I never asked. I never made contact with her for nearly 10 years. I digress- there she was. And we never met each other's gaze, but I was nervous. I was a fucking anxious mess the entire adventure in that fairgrounds, and I was constantly looking over my shoulder in case I needed to run the opposite direction so I wouldn't have to encounter her. I look so very different compared to back then. Longer hair, bigger, piercings, brighter colors, AND one of the only 10 people in a crowd of hundreds wearing a face mask. It was a surefire disguise! But the fear was there. Fear that she would see me and be disgusted. How could she not be? Why want to be friends with me? I couldn't even do that right with my friend group I left.

Oh and here's the kicker: it's been 4 days and now I'm only 75% sure it was her, but I've dreamt about her every night since then. Not in a sexual or romantic way, more like a regretful way. I woke up from a dream where we had a conversation about lost time and our relationships now and now we've been doing over the years, what we're into now. We once shared the same dream, I forgot to mention. Voice acting. And since then I know she's been in viral projects where she's praised for her work, and dammit I'm so fucking jealous, but also proud of her. How I want to tell her how proud I am of her. But she doesn't need that from me. Hell, if I was such a nervous and jittery mess at the thought of encountering her during a night market in a crowd of hundreds of people, and 4 days later I'm not even 100% sure it was her anymore, she sure as hell doesn't need to have any interest in becoming friends with me again. It's clear I still have some trauma about the entire thing, and not once during this whole post did I ever even mention the trauma I must've caused her.

Case in point.

So, missed reconnection and redemption aside (but can you even really call it those things), I'm still a worthless waste of space who doesn't fully understand my part in all this, and it's probably for the better that we never encountered each other, because I wouldn't deserve to have her as a friend, and I should be so goddamn fuckin' lucky to have the very few I have today. Holy shit the people who tolerate my mess and my hyper fixations and my autistic meltdowns- I'm so fucking sorry, and I appreciate you today.

I'm so fucking lucky to have you.

Feelings change as time goes on, and I hope my current people I've chosen to be my close friends continue to tolerate me. I may not be in love with her anymore, but I still hold warmth for her in my heart, I feel. Strangers to acquaintances, acquaintances to friends, friends to lovers, to strangers again. That's one of two ways relationships can end.

I'm so fucking lucky to be with the woman I am with today, who's helped me process trauma even when it wasn't her job, who's given me a hand in learning about how to help myself understand things in pieces at my own pace and comfort. She shows now much she's engaged with the things I love, like One Piece, and I hope I'm doing a good job of showing interest in the things she loves too. I'm sorry that I slip up every now and again. I promise I'm trying my hardest.

I'm lucky I'm in love with my best friend.

Even if she's not her.

[sweetthepotato]

The Final Pillar: Chapter 9: A Crowd's a Company

Disclaimer*

Keep in mind that this fic is meant for mature audiences or people who don't mind awkward, cringe comedy.

Masterpost

Chapter 8

Chapter Summary

Kagome meets the members of her team. There's at least one member who's not impressed.

Contents

Awkward first introductions. New OCs become involved.

Very brief sexual references (nothing graphic, because oh god no). Genya uses foul language... are we surprised?

Genya swallowed his disappointment at overhearing a soft, albeit distorted, voice from under the floor of his room. So, instead of his older brother, or even Himejima or Kocho, of whom he thought of warmly, this was a different hashira altogether.

There was a part of him that was still curious as to the identity of this so-called pillar, which he repressed with a vehemence. The indignant part of his brain reminded him of the past week or so where he had to stay cooped up in his room, annoyed to death by the antics of the other members of his squad.

It was two hours later when he decided to bite the bullet. He walked down the narrow stairway towards the shared living space, spotting the stranger at the far end of the rectangular table. He appeared to be engrossed in a book, which appeared to have a title that spanned the length of its spine at least twice over.

The hashira, upon first impression, looked a lot smaller than he’d imagined. Perhaps, upon further inspection, he was a head or so taller than the Insect Breathing user he visited on a regular basis, which wasn’t saying much about the guy’s height.

The most notable feature about him, Genya saw, was the rather obvious oni mask he wore on his face. From the side, he could see the embossing and etching of his mask, which even from a distance, he could at least appreciate the expert craftsmanship. Despite being in poor taste, considering their line of work, he could hazard a guess as to why most of the hashira’s skin was covered with additional fabrics and bandages; a disfigurement of some kind, perhaps. It was disturbing to contemplate on someone who seemed to be so young, but more unfortunate things have happened.

The expression of the mask was in stark contrast to his overall calm demeanour. While the shape of its mouth was sculpted into a snarl, with the fangs jutting out menacingly, he was sitting slack, an elbow propped onto the table for support. His haori, a mostly teal garment with a kind of criss-cross design, was re-stitched in a kind of way that almost appeared too rugged for such a slim body.

Despite his ill-concealed gawking, which would’ve earnt him a talking to from his shisho at any other point in time, the boy opposite him seemed completely unbothered. He just sat there, not pausing his current activity at all to acknowledge his existence.

--

Genya found that there was an uncomfortable period of silence that filled their space, now they were waiting for the other two slayers to join them downstairs. He heard the sound of another page turn, and the pillar, still remaining in his comfortable position, decided to sit up and closed his novel. His back straight, his mask was staring directly at him.

Finally, he thought, with much exasperation. He was a quiet fellow, breathing in and out as if sighing, and spoke, ‘I understand that you and the other slayers have all arrived here earlier than I have. For that, I apologise for my tardiness,’ he began, breathing out a monotonous voice that was muffled by the covering over his face, ‘I would like to introduce myself, but I am unsure if having only one of you here would be the best time for it.’

Now that he had the full profile of the mask, Genya felt odd at having been looked at so intensely. On the inside, his blood seethed at the cocktail of boredom, irritation and disappointment mixing and stirring within his body. He didn’t want to underestimate anyone, let alone a hashira, but the one sitting before him looked more than a few years younger than himself. He looked to be less of a teenager, and more of a mere, small child wearing the black, standard uniform.

All of a sudden, he heard the thumping of footsteps from up above the stairway.

‘Sorry for making you wait,’ the female demon slayer sang out, in the middle of walking her way towards them. She held the hand of a male slayer, who was red at the face at the blatant display of affection.

Genya wanted to puke.

As they landed on the same floor as they were, the male startled at the hashira sitting before them.

Kagome silently mourned having to put her novel away, but the current mission was a more pressing matter. She thought about how she would want to be led, and concluded that she ought to become a force of reassurance, first of all, by acting in a calm manner. Looking up at them, already gathering a sense of their various personalities, she noted the appearances of her team.

The teenager sitting at the other end of her table had the most unique features, compared to the other members. His hair was shaved at the sides, leaving a tuft of black growing atop his head. Somehow, his demeanour looked eerily similar to someone she’d met previously, but she couldn’t figure out how as of yet. A scowl seemed to be tattooed permanently on his face, his eyes wide and judgemental. The haori, which was wrapped around his uniform, was sleeveless. It was coloured in two shades of purple, a lighter one that spanned across his chest, and then a darker one that continued for much of the rest of it. A scar that spanned from his right cheekbone and over his nose, however, was the most noticeable thing about him, and the jagged edges of it seemed to coordinate well with his perpetually annoyed expression.

The girl, who looked to be in her late teens, was dressed in the default girls’ uniform, which made the brunette glad she was able to tailor hers back at the compound using scraps and parts from previous iterations. The centre of her chest was bare for all to see, and her skirt reached higher than her mid-thigh. She was rather pretty, Kagome thought, her face completely unblemished and her eyes the same colour as crushed up sesame seeds. Her shoulder-length, dark hair was tied into a low ponytail at the side of her neck, but instead of the straight texture of most Japanese, hers had a slight wave that made her look doll-like.

She smiled, confidently, hand clutching at her male partner, who seemed rather shy for a fellow demon slayer. His round face contained ruddy cheeks, which looked as though there was something to feel embarrassed about. Compared to the girl next to her, he was slightly shorter, and a year or so younger, too. His fine, black hair was shorn closer to the back of his head, and his eye dotted with a brown mole. On the edge of his jaw, sported a rather large wine-coloured birthmark.

Her processing the visual information before her, she looked around once more and introduced herself.

‘Pleased to meet all of you,’ she started, ‘For those of you who’ve just joined us, I apologise for making you wait this past week. It’s been arranged that I will be your team leader for this mission. You may refer to me as “Kagome”, though I don’t particularly care for honorifics or nicknames.’

She looked around her, seeing the three lower ranks in front of her listening intently. She gathered the impression that they wanted to address the most pressing matter, but something within her made her sigh, ‘We’ll have to address the mission brief at some point, but as we will be working together for the next few days, I’d like us to introduce ourselves.’

The girl, propping up her hand, chirped up first, ‘Hi! I’m Umi Shinbayashi, eighteen years old!’ She smiled, her white teeth poking through her pink lips, ‘Pleased to meet you finally!’

The boy had his side nudged by Shinbayashi’s elbow, and he stiffened up straight, ‘Uh… I’m Masato Karata. Umi and I were trained i-in Mist Breathing by the same cultivator.’ He bowed slightly in her direction, the redness of his face refusing to fade.

‘I look forward to working with you both,’ Kagome nodded politely. She turned towards the last of the group, who was watching the interaction with a small frown.

Introductions were always such a chore, and on most occasions, he wouldn’t have even bothered to attend them on group missions. However, the pillar’s gaze upon him felt heavy and oppressive. His voice sounded like it belonged to a young, boyish sort of person, and considering his frequent use of the word ‘boku’ Genya couldn’t help but imagine some kind of kid, on the beginnings of his adolescence, sitting behind that mask of his.

Admittedly, the name ‘Kagome’ threw him off for a second; it seemed too girly to what he was presented with so far. He considered that, from the way he introduced himself, that it was some kind of nickname, rather than a given name. It had to be, he thought, unable to conceive of any explanation that was much simpler. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t already met a few other demon slayers who shared a similar affinity for androgyny, in any case; the Demon Slayer Corps seemed to draw a diverse array of characters, after all. Sizing the kid up, he re-considered the criss-cross pattern on his haori as a combination of repeated hexagons and stars, and he instantly recognised the intention behind the name. It was a bit too much on the nose, though.

Feeling Kagome’s eyes still boring into him from the opposite end of the table, he shuffled uncomfortably in the fabric of his clothes. Well, if he was going to have to participate in this meaningless team-building session, then he wouldn’t pretend that he was particularly happy about it.

‘Genya Shinazugawa,’ he grumbled.

The kid nodded back at him in lieu of a verbal reply, noting the different energies around the room. Genya wanted to curl up from the shame of his circumstances, which was adding additional salt to his emotional wounds. It was embarrassing, first, from being surrounded by team members who seemed to treat this mission like a personal holiday. Then, second, from the burning humiliation of being led by a much younger, punier hashira, of all possible people.

If the masked pillar noticed anything about his disdain, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he appeared to muse to himself, taking a short inhale, ‘Again, pleased to meet all of you. We should, at some point tomorrow, discuss our mission and any observations or thoughts we have so far,’ he began. ‘But for now, as it is quite late in the evening-’ no shit, Genya thought ‘-I believe it is best that you rest as best as you can. I may need to settle into a room, though.’

He turned his head towards Shinbayashi’s direction, for some weird reason, who reddened at what was being implied, ‘O-oh! Kagome-san, uh… it’s been a while since ‘sato-kun and I were able to reconnect, so we’ve been sharing the same room for the past four days,’ she explained with an awkward chuckle.

At least Kagome was able to embarrass someone else, Genya huffed internally. He glared at the Mist witch, whose noise in the common area was a constant source of his growing migraines. ‘Reconnect’, indeed, if that meant fu-

‘-Are there any other rooms?’

‘There’s only one other, so you’d probably be sharing with Genya-kun,’ Shinbayashi suggested, causing the said teenager to choke down a noise of protest.

‘Genya-san,’ the pillar said, testing out the use of his given name, to his growing indignation, ‘I’ll be in your care, then.’ Kagome nodded in his direction, and then looked around the room, across the members of his team.

--

Kagome took out items from the tenbukuro attached to the ceiling of the room she was sharing with Genya. She withdrew from the cupboard a futon, meandering over to the far-right corner and laying it down flat. She pondered for some time over her team members’ respective jikoshokai and sighed. Her roommate shared the same family name as the Wind Hashira, and from their similar facial expressions, she could tell that they were blood-related somehow. With it being so late in the night, and with only a few more chapters in her current historical reading, she decided that it was too bothersome to entertain anyone else’s family drama for the moment. Although, she grumbled, having one Shinazugawa in the Corps was more than enough.

With a click, she closed the door to the cupboard upon her second trip, and the girl quietly placed her quilted duvet on top of the mattress. She took note of the rough texture of the tatami under her knees, and that it felt damaged enough to guess the number of times guests and the proprietors would be shifting heavy items on top. For a business partnered with the Demon Slayer Corps, she considered how she’d expected slightly more care in the upkeep of her surroundings. She hoped that the family received enough assistance to do well-needed repairs and replacements.

She felt the penetrating stare of her roommate, his tall stature leaning against the frame in the doorway. The shoji remained agape, and it was enough of an opening to let the soft murmuring from Shinbayashi and Karata’s room to escape, without much of a need for her to strain her ears. Hidden in the habitat of their room, albeit it being located just next door, the other two slayers were mid-way in their conversation, where it appeared as though she was the key object of discussion. Hunched over her own arrangements, once she was aware that the murmuring was benign enough, the brunette decided to tune it out against the forefront of her current, more menial tasks.

Genya, meanwhile, half-listened to their conversation with a muted feeling of intrigue. The other half of his attention was consumed by observing the hashira in front of him, his form dwarfed by his tall height. Curiously, the boy placed his blades at the most convenient point at the side of his futon, but the teenager didn’t make much of that note.

Shinbayashi, the witch, seemed to be doing most of the gossiping, from what he could overhear. From the incident from this morning, he knew well enough that the walls were evidently thin enough for most noises to peek through.

‘Hey, ‘sato-kun, did you know?’ She whispered, ‘I received word from one of the kakushi… the appointment of a new hashira …same time as the Mount Natagumo mission…’

‘…more than seventy demons…’

His eyebrow raised at that, suppressing a scoff at the young demon slayer in front of him. That, he struggled to imagine.

‘Genya-san,’ Kagome’s voice broke through his period of contemplation, ‘I would like to thank you again for allowing me to impede on your personal space,’ he said. The boy have a half-bow, his polite language and mannerisms unnerving. Admittedly, he was caught off guard by the teenager in front of him, who didn’t act with so much of the self-importance, hard-earnt pride or even the gravitas of the other hashira he’d interacted with before, ‘Please sleep when you are ready; I will be reading more of my novel in the meantime, so please let me know if you would like me to move downstairs.’

Even with his head bent to avoid hitting the low ceiling of the ryokan, the pillar looked too small and meek. He nodded, blandly, but he couldn’t ignore the doubt seeping into his bones. He wished, for another time, that Sanemi were here instead.

[the1975attheirverybest]

im a bit of a mixed bag ngl i had my birthday which was very good then results which ehhhhh lowkey failed chemistry but i got into my top uni despite not meeting entry requirements !! but i now have horrendous period cramps and spent most of the morning wanting to murder anyone/thing that made noise until i was like ohhhhhh its here

as for favourite lyrics:

self titled: maybe basic but me and "i was thinking bout killing myself dont you mind?" because of the idea of if i did it would anyone care and its so obviously yes, people would mind A LOT but you still kinda dont think that. but also "id be your anchor but im scared you'd drown" from talk, the line from heart out which escapes me but is about turning into a tv, and "i know your looking for salvation in the secular age but girl im not your savour" because holy shit it did not have to go that hard. though it is very entertaining going through genius and finding out just how many drug references are snuck in that album

iliwys: i like cant actually explain it/don't understand it exactly but "im the greek economy of cashing intellectual cheques" just because of that idea of not feeling smart enough sometimes and like youre gonna hit a wall intellectually. but i also fucking love "for you are not beside me but within me" and the idea that you can love something so much it becomes a part of you and also how it links into what matty always says about tye transformative power of art and especially the feeling of listening to an album and feeling like it has become a part of you. also the "ive not been doing too well" at the end of nana makes me want to rip my hair out and like throw myself at a wall because its so incredibly sincere after a song that almost dances around his emotions and then its so incredibly direct and gut wrentching

abiior: in mine the "i fight crime online sometimes" is very good just because its a bit humourous in quite a sincere song and it juxtaposes the quite timeless instrumentation without being cringe. "what if you died with all of the cameras on" from petrichor stands out but i dont know why like i guess it could be to do with the idea of reaching a level if fame that even your death can be viewed by the world? theres probably a lot of better ones that are not coming to mind i was scrapping the bottom of the mental barrel a little

noacf: ittsysk speaks to me on a visceral level "see saw back and forth" and "oh please ignore me im just feeling sorry for myself" and undermining oneself despite having just outlined your mental turmoil.

bfiafl: "making an aesthetic out of not doing well and mining all the bits of you, you think you can sell" because i think we have all taken the selfie while crying for the funny later and ill very occasionally go through my notes app which no one else has read in an attempt to find something to put on tumblr or scrounging for photos i can put on tumblr to seem cool or edgy and even how because of small business tiktok people are monetising their hobbies that they do for fun because it could sell and people need money. also just "tell me you love me because thats all i need to hear" and "do you think that I've forgotten about you" are both so straight to the point yet so incredibly relatable and heartbreaking. "i would go blind just to see you" is quite fun because its a bit oedipus adjacent with the whole idea of prophecy and that oedipus only sees the truth when he is physically blind alike to tiresias.

sorry if this is a bit much. these are also all off the top of my head so there are probably a few better and more interesting ones im forgetting - 🐸

OKAY OKAY OKAY!!! So many unique highlights here. The line from Heart Out Is “you created a television of your mouth.” Which is such a specific and brilliant line in the way that only matty can write. In fact, only young matty. The more skilled he gets, the more concise he’s become. Which is definitely a strength but sometimes I miss his verbose and overly complex imagery. Like you can still see hun wrestle with it and try to work it out and circle round the idea but not quite get it. It’s so beautiful.

AND PETRICHOR?!!! HELLLOOOO!!!! Genius.

One thing about “Happiness” though…..I feel like it’s….purposefully…what’s the word….not quite cliche. More like tropey? Not that either. I don’t quite know how to to describe it. The whole “id go blind just to see ya.” “I’d go far just to have you near.” “Never gonna love again.” They’re very common ways of talking about love (and matty knows how to make the common uncommon but he does choose not to in this one) which helps to convey the energy in the song. In much the same way that the delicate imagery of JC2005 and the weirdly formal writing does the same there. Idk what the right words for this technique is. But I find it super interesting.

[yourtoradorasextendedwarranty]

IDUBBBZ

So this just came across my Youtube feed from a few different creators all of them talking about Idubbbz. What's confusing about this isn't what everyone has been saying. What's confusing about this is apologizing for content you have made in an era where that was not just acceptable, but also the norm.

I do not grasp the concept of where you have to be in your own mind to say sorry to every generation growing up. Retroactive "I'm sorry" should not be a thing. No one knows what modern norms will look like 2 years from now much less 15 or 20 years from now. Society may well decide that you are a minor until you are 25. They could lower the drinking age to 14. We could find out that kids secretly hold the inner most knowledge of the universe but don't know how to see it.

All I'm saying is, in an era that was recovering from Political Correctness, and one that participated heavily in hyper puritan culture, that level of edgy was par for the course. The edgier it was the better at that time. We also gave words less power back then. We took the piss out of hate more times than not with super edgy humor. Race and sex based relations were actually getting better in general.

So really for him to apologize for all of his old content make no sense. Sure, I understand making a video saying, "Hey wasn't that a wild time? You think so to huh? Well thanks for being with me thus far, and I plan to grow and change with time like any normal adult. And my content is also going to change with that." <That? That is how he should have approached it. Saying sorry for being a product of the time is like admitting to a sin you were not aware you were committing. It doesn't make sense. You just move on from it and grow. If people are upset that's on them. Not on you.

Hell if anything from 2014-2023 has been absolute shit. Everyone is overly sensitive. Everyone is all of a sudden mentally ill and HAPPY about it for some reason. Everyone HAS to be an activist 24/7 365 otherwise they will hang themselves or hurt others. Big Businesses are screwing people left and right. Marxists are literally laying waste to our country. We are on the brink of WWIII. Inflation is at it's worst in decades. There is 1000's of new movies and shows every year and of all of it, maybe less than a percent is good. Games suck more often than they don't. People can't just leave other people along to like what they like.

I HATE the modern era. Things just aren't fun anymore. And the more you try to have fun, the more people who are perpetually angry and activist-y have to try to destroy the source of what makes you and others happy. It's like their whole goal in life is to suck the fun out of it.

Anyways. My point is that there was no reason for him to say he was sorry. It makes no sense whatsoever, and makes him a target in the future for the only people that would have been happy to get an apology from him.

Long and short of it. Unless you think you were doing something bad at the time, or unless you learned that at the time it WAS bad, (Not years later people see it as bad) don't say sorry. And believe me, at the time his shit was cringe but it wasn't "bad" for that era of online content. It was pretty normal. Things were more fun back then anyways.