#kind of predictable but cathartic to write

[too-tired-to-write]

4.

Little Red Riding Hood was a darling girl, well-behaved, polite, always keen to help. And indeed, her Mother and Grandmother always had her busy with something – fetching water or firewood, dusting and sweeping, darning and stitching, scrubbing floors and baking bread.

When she had been younger, Little Red had never played with the other girls and boys in the village. There had been no time – she had to clean out the chicken coop, chop the vegetables, milk the goats. And if she didn’t get it all done, on time, just the way Mother and Grandmother liked it?

It was better not to think about it.

One day, Little Red’s Mother packed a basket with cakes and wine. Little Red’s Grandmother had been ill, and Mother asked her to deliver the basket to Grandmother to make sure she had good food to grow strong and well again.

But Little Red’s Grandmother did not live in the village. Grandmother lived all alone in a cottage in the woods.

.

Little Red Riding Hood was a smart kid. She knew that the woods could be dangerous, and the safest thing was to stick to the path.

But the deeper she walked into the woods, the more beautiful the flowers became. So many bluebells, like an ocean all around her! Wood anemone, primrose, violet, cowslip! How beautiful they were! How sweet they smelled!

Little Red was so enchanted by the flowers, she did not notice that she was no longer alone.

“Well hello there,” said a rich, dark voice, making the child jump. Padding by her side was a Wolf.

“Hello,” she replied, for her Mother and Grandmother had always taught her that bad manners would be punished.

“It’s a lovely day,” the Wolf observed. “Where are you walking to with such a heavy basket?”

“I’m going to see my Grandmother,” Little Red replied. “She’s been sick, and my Mother has sent me with cakes and wine.”

“What a dutiful and good Granddaughter you are,” the Wolf purred. “Tell me more about your dear Mother and Grandmother. You are the apple of their eyes, I imagine.”

“Oh, yes,” Little Red agreed. It seemed safest.

“They must have been very upset when you fell and hit your head,” the Wolf continued. “That’s a nasty bruise.”

“Oh, yes,” Little Red agreed. It seemed safest.

“Hmm. Well, it’s been a pleasure talking to you. You take care now, Little Red,” said the Wolf, and away he went into the forest again.

.

Little Red was smart and safe, and stuck to the path all the way to her Grandmother’s door. She knocked, as her Mother and Grandmother had always taught her that bad manners would be punished.

“Let yourself in, my dear,” Grandmother called, and goodness! How strange her voice sounded! She must indeed be most unwell.

“Mother has sent me with cakes and wine, Grandmother,” said Little Red.

“How thoughtful of her,” Grandma replied. “Do come in and bring them over to me.” Little Red stepped lightly through the shadowy cottage, quickly reaching Grandmother’s bedside.

Grandmother was not in her bed. The Wolf was in her bed.

Little Red Riding Hood stood very still. She kept her eyes meekly on the ground, and waited for the blow to strike.

“I’m not going to eat you,” said the Wolf.

Little Red still did not look up.

“Where is Grandmother?” she asked the Wolf, her voice a whisper. The Wolf considered his answer.

“Do you really want me to give you the answer to that question?” he asked.

Little Red hesitated, then shook her head. The Wolf sighed.

“Take your shoes off and come into bed,” he ordered gently. “I’ll make you some hot milk, and you can eat as many cakes as you like.”

.

Little Red ate cakes and drank warm milk, and then she curled up into the Wolf’s soft, warm fur and slept for hours.

She thought she heard her Mother’s voice once, though she was half sleeping and couldn’t say for sure. It seemed like the Wolf left her, and there was a snarl, or maybe the start of a scream. It was all very hazy and unclear. And anyway the Wolf was by her side in no time, nuzzling her cheek, telling her to go back to sleep.

[kyouka-supremacy]

lizandre on ao3 writes some cool stuff that looks at the sskk dynamic post mortal enemies thing that i think you might like? 'inside you there is meat. it moves' is like my favourite fic that i have ever read, its more an atsushi character study but there's sskk in there and it kinda touches on how their lives could integrate when theyre not trying to kill each other anymore.

Omg please tell me about it, I love their writing so much, it's spectacular!!! I'm especially enamoured with their Atsushi characterization, it's really one of my favorite out there; I particularly recommend i’m safe! i’m whole! i've got it under control!, which uses a kind of imaginary that's similar to the one you're mentioning here, and it's an absolutely groundbreaking piece of writing.

I adore those fics and that only speaks of how spot on you were with the kind of characterization I like, so thank you and Anon if you stumble across any more recommendations please don't heistate to hit me up!!!

[cazshmere]

12th House Sign in the Natal Chart and How you can Heal and Find Closure from Past Wounds 🩵

materialist🔖

DISCLAIMER : healing is a journey, not a destination, and everyone moves at their own pace. these tips are here to give you a nudge, not to create pressure or perfection. if you’re reading this and some things resonate, that’s wonderful :) take what feels right and leave the rest. and remember, there’s no one right way to heal or find closure. it’s okay to stumble, feel lost, or take a break. trust that every small step forward, even the tiniest ones, are part of the process. be kind to yourself along the way; you’re doing the best you can 🩵

🧩 aries in the 12th house

1. you’re bold in action, but sometimes hesitant in introspection. reflect on fears you might avoid and tackle them directly, like you would any challenge.

2. pent-up frustrations weigh on your subconscious. try activities like boxing, painting, or writing letters you’ll never send.

3. give yourself time alone without needing constant action. Silence and stillness help you get in touch with buried emotions.

4. reflect on times you acted quickly and accept that growth often means making mistakes.

5. indulge in something silly, like playing a game or watching cartoons. It helps you reconnect with yourself. watching your comfort movie with your favourite snacks will surely help

HEALING TIP : try journaling with a twist : write letters to yourself from different ages, like your 5-year-old self or your future self, to see your emotions from new perspectives. this could be super cathartic for you and help you move through the hard feelings holding you back also try meditation that is targeted towards inner peace

🧩 taurus in the 12th house

1. learn to release your hold on past pain. Healing for you often means loosening your grip on comfort zones, even in memories.

2. reflect on areas where you’ve felt unappreciated, finding self-worth from within rather than external validation.

3. you resist change, so make small, gradual adjustments to your daily life that invite healing over time.

4. practice acceptance of things you cannot control or predict; even small, symbolic acts like letting go of a token can help.

5. revisit an old hobby that once brought you joy, like gardening, knitting, or cooking. it’ll remind you of your inner peace.

HEALING TIP : try a sensory grounding exercise: touch something soft, listen to calming music, and smell something grounding like lavender to soothe your mind and body. also something that can temporarily help is watching a super scary movie or just eating spicy food, it can help you distract yourself from your thoughts, at least momentarily

🧩 gemini in the 12th house

1. your mind runs fast, but your 12th house challenges you to slow down and acknowledge buried insecurities.

2. release old narratives, whether it’s past gossip, harsh words, or regrets, let go of thoughts that weigh you down. Practice rephrasing past stories with kindness.

3. try creative outlets that let you express emotions without words, like art or dance, to connect with deeper feelings.

4. when you socialize, make time for connections that feel supportive and honest, without intellectual posturing.

5. quieting your inner monologue helps you access the quiet truths below the surface. Breathing exercises can help here.

HEALING TIP : try recording voice memos on your phone when you feel overwhelmed. Sometimes saying things out loud can help you make sense of them faster than writing.

🧩 cancer in the 12th house

1. you tend to tuck away your deepest fears. Make time to reflect on past emotions without judgment or the need to ‘fix’ them.

2. address any unconscious attachment to people or situations that no longer serve you, knowing it’s okay to need change.

3. offer compassion to yourself, revisit times when you felt misunderstood or unsupported, and give your younger self the love they needed.

4. learn to let go without feeling abandoned. Spend time nurturing your sense of self apart from your relationships.

5. forgive old wounds, allow yourself to release grudges or hurts, understanding that they don’t define your future connections.

HEALING TIP : write a letter to someone from your past you’ve never fully moved on from, then release it (you don’t have to send it).

🧩 leo in the 12th house

1. step back from needing validation, explore who you are outside of praise or recognition. spend time with yourself, just being rather than performing.

2. acknowledge areas where you might have felt rejected or unappreciated. practice self-love that doesn’t rely on others’ feedback.

3. try activities where you’re a beginner. learning something new can help you find power in vulnerability.

4. let go of ego-driven fears, focus on what makes you feel genuinely fulfilled, not just admired. reframe your goals around personal joy rather than approval.

5. reclaim your authenticity by exploring what brings you joy outside of an audience, like a private creative hobby that brings you peace.

HEALING TIP : try visualising your inner child, close your eyes and picture yourself as a child full of hope and joy, and send love to that younger version of you.

🧩 virgo in the 12th house

1. acknowledge that some things don’t need fixing. practice letting go without feeling the need to control every detail.

2. practice self-compassion, allow room for mistakes and honor your efforts without focusing solely on flaws. embrace your progress, not perfection.

3. stop overanalyzing (ik it’s hard but your overthinking is what causes majority of your problems, the more you overthink the more power you’re giving to those unwanted thoughts) give your mind permission to take a break. activities like meditative gardening or painting can help soothe the inner critic.

4. connect with your intuition, trust your instincts rather than rationalizing everything. allow yourself to simply “know” without overthinking it.

5. embrace the chaos haha, let things be messy or spontaneous without judgment. Flexibility helps you grow beyond rigid expectations.

HEALING TIP : try writing a list of what you’re grateful for, it's a simple but powerful tool to shift your focus from worries to abundance.

🧩 libra in the 12th house

1. find comfort in solitude, learn to enjoy your own company, separate from others’ opinions or companionship. practice inner peace.

2. let go of past people-pleasing, allow yourself to address buried feelings of resentment that may stem from overextending for others.

3. balance your inner harmony, focus on inner alignment rather than external harmony. Journaling or meditating on your needs helps you center.

4. heal relationship wounds, reflect on past connections that left an impact. release blame, knowing each taught you something valuable.

5. set boundaries with yourself, give yourself permission to say “no” without guilt. embrace your inner balance, free from others’ demands.

HEALING TIP : you can try a heart-centered meditation to connect with self-love and release neediness for outside validation or try a balance-focused yoga routine, it can be both grounding and soothing, helping you connect with your inner equilibrium.

🧩 scorpio in the 12th house

1. embrace your emotional vulnerability, lean into your feelings without fearing loss or control. Sharing emotions helps relieve hidden weight.

2. release grudges (ik this is something hard for you but letting go is better than holding on to the things that cause you problems - forgive but don’t forget perhaps), practice forgiveness as a way of releasing old hurts that drain you.

3. face your darkest worries with courage, knowing they don’t define you. Write them down and let them go.

4. reclaim personal power, you’re literally THAT bitch don’t forget that queen, focus on how you can empower yourself from within, instead of seeking control externally.

5. trust others with your feelings when it feels right; vulnerability can be deeply healing.

HEALING TIP : you can try shadow journaling by exploring both light and dark thoughts to understand yourself more deeply or if you want something fun instead try listening to a mystery podcast or an immersive story app where you can dive into thrilling narratives. this helps you tap into your emotional depth while being entertained, offering healing through mystery and intrigue.

🧩 sagittarius in the 12th house

1. look inward for meaning, sometimes answers lie within, not in new experiences. find fulfillment in self-reflection rather than escapism.

2. explore spiritual grounding, sagittarius craves meaning, so find practices that connect you to a sense of purpose, like guided meditation.

3. release judgment and let go of self-criticism about past “mistakes.” accept that growth is a journey, not a fixed outcome.

4. embrace introspection by giving your adventurous mind permission to slow down and find contentment in stillness.

5. cultivate patience please (so so important) you may be prone to quick fixes; practice patience with yourself and your journey to healing.

HEALING TIP : start a personal travel vlog (even if it's just to document your local adventures) or use digital journaling apps to record your thoughts, dreams, and philosophical insights. It’ll allow you to process your emotions while in a fun way <3

🧩 capricorn in the 12th house

1. release pressure to always be “on”, let go of needing to achieve every moment. It’s okay to just “be” sometimes, without a goal in sight.

2. forgive your past mistakes, address any old guilt you’re holding onto. you’re allowed to grow beyond your old decisions and learn without punishment.

3. embrace vulnerability (very important) being open about your feelings doesn’t weaken you; it strengthens your ability to understand and trust yourself.

4. trust life’s timing, not everything has to be perfectly planned. lean into moments of uncertainty and find peace in simply experiencing.

5. reflect on your worth beyond productivity, spend time exploring who you are outside of what you “do” or “produce.”

HEALING TIP : try weekly self-check-ins to connect with your needs and desires, away from the hustle of daily demands.

🧩 aquarius in the 12th house

1. embrace your quirks and shadows, you have a unique mind, so allow yourself to be different even in your struggles. reflect on hidden fears and accept them.

2. let go of needing to understand everything, release the need to overanalyze or intellectualize every emotion; trust that some things are just felt, not solved.

3. balance independence with connection, don’t isolate yourself too much. healing also comes through genuine human connections.

4. explore spontaneous introspection, give yourself the freedom to meditate or journal in unconventional ways, like painting or singing.

5. lean into self-compassion, you may be hard on yourself for being “too different” or processing wounds and hurts “differently” but learn to embrace that unique perspective as your strength.

HEALING TIP : try creative expression exercises that bring your thoughts to life, like freeform art, dance, editing, posting stuff online (blogs, reels etch) or sound journaling helps too.

🧩 pisces in the 12th house

1. set healthy boundaries with emotions, your empathy can pull you into others’ feelings. spend time differentiating between your own emotions and theirs.

2. give yourself closure without finality, understand that sometimes closure isn’t perfect or neat, and let go of needing every question answered.

3. create a soothing retreat, build a healing environment, like a cozy corner or blanket fort lmao, where you can escape and connect with your inner peace.

4. release victim mentality, move beyond past hardships by reclaiming your personal power and seeing yourself as a survivor, not a sufferer.

5. TRUST. YOUR. INTUITION. you’re naturally in touch with the unseen. lean into that gift by tuning into your feelings without judgment.

HEALING TIP : create a healing playlist filled with calming music, or even soothing ASMR sounds, to help you unwind and feel safe in your own space.

© cazshmere 2024 [All Rights Reserved]

banner & pic credits to the rightful owners <3

[vandme12]

Gosh, I just want to say I really love your works 🥺💚💚 Can I request for a Ronin x reader, but when Ronin thought that the reader was only a writer, turn out she was a retired serial killer that decide to just disappear without any track

TW : Blood, Gore!

Being a serial killer is boring.

Not in the way people think—blood, gore, the messy art of it. That part’s fine. Fun, even, if you're in the mood. But the rest? The routine. The predictability. The way everyone thinks they're special, right up until they bleed like the rest.

It’s the people that ruin it. Always talking. Always begging. As if their lives are a unique little miracle and not just meat wearing memories. And the killers? Worse. Self-important, self-obsessed, desperate to be legends when all they are is noise. You got tired of the noise.

So you left.

No goodbye notes. No calling cards. No poetic monologue to stroke your ego. You disappeared, clean as a ghost. Let the world breathe easier without you. Let the cops think they won. You quit while you were ahead—because it wasn’t worth the headache.

And now? Now, you’re just a writer. A curious little writer asking all the wrong questions on all the wrong forums. Boring. Harmless. At least, that’s what they think.

A reporter by day, a wannabe writer by night.

Daylight’s for lies—polished stories wrapped in neat little headlines. You smile, you nod, you write what they want to read. Crime scenes scrubbed clean with words like tragedy and justice. You ask questions, but never the ones that matter. Not really.

Night’s different. At night, you ask the real questions. The ugly ones. How much pressure does it take to crush a windpipe? How deep do you cut to hit the carotid without a mess? Can you drown someone quietly?

Research, you tell yourself. Research for the book.

And maybe that’s true. Maybe that’s all it is. Or maybe—maybe you’re just wondering how much of yourself you left behind when you walked away from the knife.

Either way, you push too far. Ask too much. And that’s when he finds you

A thousand bodies.

Give or take. You stopped counting after the first few hundred—what’s the point? Numbers blur. Faces fade. Only the methods stick. And you? You got creative.

Guns are lazy. Quick, sure—but cold. Too clean. Anyone can pull a trigger. You did it anyway. Execution-style, drive-bys, a whisper of a silencer pressed against a temple. Sometimes you missed the mess. Sometimes you didn’t.

Poison? Elegant. Cruel. Slow if you want it to be. Arsenic in their coffee. Cyanide under the tongue. A little aconite when you’re feeling poetic. You liked to watch them choke. Let them wonder who hated them enough to make it personal.

Blades were intimate. Knives, scalpels, box cutters—anything sharp enough to split skin. You liked the feel of it, once. Warm blood over cold steel. Different blades for different moods. A fillet knife when you wanted precision. A rusted machete when you didn’t.

Blunt objects were… cathartic. Crowbars, hammers, tire irons. There’s a certain honesty in breaking someone with your hands. In feeling the crack of bone vibrate through metal. Some people deserve that kind of violence.

Arson? That was a phase. Fire eats evidence. Fire doesn’t talk back. Whole families reduced to ash because you got bored and wanted to watch the sky burn. You liked the smell. You don’t admit that part. You hated them.

You’ve killed with ropes, with wires, with your bare hands. Pushed people off bridges. Crashed cars. Drowned them. Some slow. Some fast. Some still haunt you. Most don’t.

It wasn’t about the method—it was the act. The promise that anyone could die, and you were the one to prove it.

And you were better at it than anyone else.

But it got old. The thrill dulled. Even chaos starts to feel like a routine. So you quit. Disappeared. Became a ghost.

SO YOU'RE A SERIAL KILLER. SUPPOSEDLY.

A reporter by day, an aspiring writer by night—you tell yourself it’s just research. Writers ask weird questions all the time. That’s normal, right?

Like: – How deep do you bury a body to avoid detection? – How many pounds of pressure does it take to snap a human neck? – What’s the best way to dissolve evidence without setting off chemical alarms?

Totally normal. For a crime novel.

Until one night, your screen flickers. A message pops up.

ERROR! UNKNOWN: "don't be so obvious smh You're Gonna Get Caught."

…What the fuck?

Before you can blink, a new window opens—dark, minimal, the kind of place where bad ideas bloom. A chatroom. And not just any chatroom.

A serial killer chatroom.

You may be slightly fucked.

And at the center of it? Some guy with the username "goreboy." Annoying. Flirty. Dangerous. The kind of person who makes murder sound like a joke—until you realize he’s not joking.

"Goreboy."

The name alone makes you roll your eyes. What is this—2005? But he’s… interesting. In the way a car crash is interesting. Loud, cocky, all teeth and bad jokes. He types like he’s flirting with everyone and threatening them at the same time. A mess.

You tell yourself you’re only sticking around because he’ll make a great character. A little chaos for your novel. That’s all.

And he is chaotic—annoyingly so. Constantly cracking jokes like murder is just a Saturday hobby. But the more you watch, the more obvious it becomes:

He’s an amateur.

Oh, sure, he’s got the attitude down. Talks big. Acts bigger. And to his credit? He’s good—scary good—at covering his tracks. You’ll give him that. No digital footprint. No sloppy evidence. He knows how to vanish when it counts.

But the actual killing? Sloppy.

Messy crime scenes. Overkill for no reason. He’s all instinct, no finesse. Blood everywhere because he likes the aesthetic—amateur hour. Once, he bragged about botching a clean hit because he got "bored halfway through." You almost closed the tab right then.

And yet… you keep watching.

Because for all his flaws, there’s something addictive about him. He talks like he’s untouchable. Like the world’s a toy, and he’s the only one smart enough to break it right.

A stupid little punk with too much charm and not enough caution.

You should leave.

But you don’t.

You don’t know how it got to this point—playing truth or dare with a guy named Goreboy in a serial killer chatroom. It’s stupid. Juvenile. And yet, here you are, fingers hovering over your keyboard, heart thudding in your chest.

“I thought we’d get on with our game,” he says, his words lazy, drawn-out—like he’s been waiting for you. Like he’s already decided you’re his favorite toy. "I like you, darlin'. I wanna hear those interesting things pinging around in that pretty little head of yours."

Cocky bastard.

“You want to do it now?” you type back, knowing full well you shouldn’t be entertaining this.

"Heh. Why not? You got somethin' better to do?"

You don’t. And maybe that’s the problem.

“…No.”

"Didn't think so." His reply is instant, smooth—like he already knew your answer. "Alright then, let's hear it. Truth or dare?"

You hesitate. You could pick dare, let him spin something ridiculous, let the game stay light. But that’s not why you’re here, is it?

"Truth," you type, pulse quickening.

A beat. And then—

"What's your body count?"

The words slam into you. "How many have died by your hand? C'mon, don’t be shy."

You pause. He thinks you’re a writer—some curious little reporter playing pretend. But that question? It cuts too close. He has no idea who he’s playing with.

"Enough to call me a serial killer," you say, because it’s true—and you’re not in the mood to lie.

Ronin whistles low through the screen, all teeth and trouble. "You love bein’ so fucking cryptic, huh. You sure you’re not a cryptid?"

You blink. Give the screen a look like it’s grown a second head. What?

"I did say it."

You could leave it there—let him chase the question in circles, let him wonder. But you’re feeling generous. So you tip your hand, just a little.

"It’s more than you."

Silence. Or as much silence as a chatroom allows. You imagine him on the other side—grinning that lazy, shit-eating grin, probably leaning back like nothing ever touches him. Like you didn’t just twist the knife.

"Yeah?" He doesn’t let it go. Of course he doesn’t. "You wanna spit it out, and we can do a li’l comparison?"

And then—because he can’t resist—

"’Cause hey, I might jus’ add an extra body to the count if you keep actin’ like this."

Threat. Flirtation. A dare wrapped in velvet. He’s waiting to see if you’ll bite.

You lean back in your chair, lips curling into a smug little smile. The silence on the line is thick—waiting. You can picture him, wherever he is, sprawled out like he owns the world. Like nothing touches him. But you know better. You can hear the edge in his breathing, just under the surface.

“I doubt you could hit that rate easily, Goreboy.” Your voice is sweet, saccharine—a blade dipped in honey. “Devil’s butcher… Ronin, right?”

You giggle—soft, teasing, just enough to hook him deeper. You shouldn’t be doing this, poking the beast for fun, but he makes it too easy. Too fun.

“You want numbers?” you purr. “I’ve got a whole record, babe.”

His laugh cracks through the call—low, rough, the sound of a man who thinks the world’s a joke, and he’s the punchline. “A record, huh? What, you keep a scrapbook?”

You hum, light and playful. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yeah,” he drawls. “I would. So spill, princess. You got me curious.”

He thinks you’re bluffing—cute. You stretch the moment, let him squirm a little. Then, soft as a secret, you say:

“A thousand.”

Silence. Then—

A sharp, manic laugh tears out of him, wild and raw like he can’t quite believe you. “Darlin’—what a lie.”

You tilt your head, smiling like the devil’s favorite little tease. And then, because you can’t help yourself, you switch to that syrupy, baby-soft voice that you just know will get under his skin:

“Awwh… didn’t anyone ever teach you to watch the news?” You giggle, bright and wicked. “You should. It’s a good habit, y’know.”

Ronin’s laugh is still buzzing in your ears—low, rough, all jagged edges and bad intentions. He leans into the call like he’s got all the time in the world, voice dripping with the kind of arrogance only a man who’s never truly been outmatched can pull off.

“A thousand, huh?” His words curl around the edges of his grin, smooth and syrupy. “Darlin’, you really expect me to buy that?”

You don’t answer immediately. You let the silence hang, heavy and sweet—make him sit in it. Toy with the moment the same way he’s been toying with you. And then, just because you know it’ll get to him, you giggle. Light. Careless. Like none of this really matters to you.

“Aw, poor baby.” You drag the words out, soft and mocking. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you to watch the news?”

His laugh snaps sharp and manic—too loud, too sudden, like he can’t quite control it. “You’re real fuckin’ funny, you know that?” He pauses, but you hear the way his breath catches—just a hitch. Just enough to tell you that you’ve sunk your claws in. “You should’ve led with that. Hell, I would’ve rolled out the red carpet.”

You smile—a wicked little curve of your lips he can’t see, but you know he feels it. “What can I say? I didn’t wanna scare you off.”

“Scare me?” He barks out another laugh, and you can practically see the glint in his eye. “Darlin’, I don’t scare easy. ‘Sides…” His voice dips, lower, rougher, crawling under your skin. “I’d love to see you try.”

He’s cocky—of course he is. The Devil’s Butcher, the monster under everyone’s bed. He’s used to being the one with blood on his hands, the one pulling the strings. But you can hear it—feel it. That itch, that heat curling at the edges of his words. He’s curious. He’s hooked.

And you? You’re not done yet.

“I doubt you could hit that rate,” you purr, leaning into every syllable. “Even if you tried.”

That gets him. Oh, he doesn’t say it—but the line goes quiet for a beat too long, and you know you’ve struck something raw. When he speaks again, his voice is smooth, easy—but there’s an edge beneath it now. Something sharp, something real.

“Big talk, princess.” His tone is all lazy challenge, like this is nothing more than a game. But you know better. You always know better. “Y’gonna back it up? Or you just blowin’ smoke?”

You hum, tilting your head like you’re actually thinking about it. Let him stew in the silence a little longer. “What do you think?”

“I think—” and here, his voice shifts—dropping to something darker, deeper. “I think you’re real good at playin’ pretend.”

You giggle again, light and cruel. “Awh… someone’s cranky.”

Another pause—just a flicker of quiet, but you hear the breath he drags in. The way his composure frays at the edges. And then, so soft you almost miss it—

“You’re up, Goreboy,” you purr, voice dripping with sweet venom. “Truth. What’s your poison?”

Ronin chuckles low in his throat—a dark, syrupy sound that sticks to your ribs. “That’s a good one. Heh.” There’s a pause, a deliberate stretch of silence before he leans in, all teeth and bad ideas. “Alright, darlin’. What’cha gonna give me?”

You tilt your head, feigning innocence. “What do you like to do… outside of killing people?”

Another laugh—this one rougher, dirtier. Like he can’t quite believe you’d ask something so tame. “What d’ya think a guy like me gets up to?” He drawls it out, lazy and thick. “I work. Eat. Sleep. Kill. Think about death ‘n dreamin’—and then I do it all over again. Same shit, different body count.”

It’s the answer you expected. Still, you play along, lips curling into a wicked little smile. “That can’t be all there is to you.”

“What if it is?” His voice sharpens—still playful, still easy, but there’s a hook buried somewhere beneath it. “Would’ja still be here? Or are you just lookin’ for somethin’ to fix?”

Oh, he wants you to bite. Wants you to flinch. But instead, you let the silence stretch—sweet, syrup-thick—before you lean in, matching his darkness with your own.

“What if I wanted someone to get worse with?”

Ronin’s laugh slithers through the call—low and slow, like he’s savoring every delicious syllable you feed him. "Music to my fuckin’ ears," he drawls, voice slick with danger, with promise. "Most people?" He scoffs, dripping venom. "They wanna clean me up. Make me nice. Sweet. Boring." He spits the word out like it leaves a bad taste. "But you?" His voice dips lower, curling around the edges of something darker. "Nah. You’re smarter than that. You wanna roll around in the dirt with me."

You hum—soft, teasing, the sound curling like smoke. "What’s the fun in fixing something that’s already perfect?" You make sure he hears the wicked edge to your smile, the sharpness beneath the sugar. "Besides…" A pause—long enough to make him hang on your every breath. "I’m not looking for some big, sentimental fairytale." Another beat, just to keep him waiting. Wondering. "Though…" and you drag the word out, slow and sweet, like you know exactly how far you can push him—"it’d be nice to settle down. With the right person."

His breath hitches—barely, but enough. You’ve hooked him deep, and you both know it.

"Settle down, huh?" His tone twists—half-mocking, half-starved, like he’s not sure whether to laugh or take you apart. "I gotta warn ya, darlin’—I ain’t the white-picket-fence kinda guy."

You giggle—dark and dangerous, the sound laced with just enough cruelty to make his blood run hotter. "Good." Your smile sharpens. "I’d probably burn the fence down anyway."

His laugh drips through the call again—sickly sweet and razor-sharp. You can practically see the grin on his face, cocky and too damn pleased with himself. "Burn it down, huh? Ain’t you just a little firestarter," he purrs. "Keep talkin’, darlin’. I’m hangin’ on every word."

And oh, you know he is.

"Your methods…" You draw the words out, tasting them, letting your voice curl around the edges of your smile. "They're good. Messy, loud—definitely leaves a mark. But…" You pause just long enough to let the disappointment sink in. "You’re missing a little something. Y’know—if you’re really going for the whole ‘Devil’s Butcher’ vibe."

He clicks his tongue. "Tch. Bold of you to critique, sugar. You think you can do better?"

You laugh softly, dark and syrupy, like you’ve already thought about it. "I know I can." The words slide out, sweet and cruel. "Crowbars? Classic. Brutal. But predictable. I mean, ‘Antichrist’—nice aesthetic, I’ll give you that—but where’s the spectacle?" Your voice dips lower, mockingly sweet. "Where’s the art, Ronin?"

He makes a low, thoughtful sound, like maybe—just maybe—you’ve got his attention in a way no one else has. "Go on," he says, voice rougher now. Hungrier. "I’m listenin’."

"If you really want to earn the title," you continue, slow and deliberate, like you’re peeling back layers just for him, "you gotta lean into it. Meat hooks, maybe. Something that tears. Skin’s fragile, baby—play with it. Or—" and you giggle, sharp and bright, like you’re already imagining the blood—"—why not a bone saw? Nothing says ‘commitment’ like cutting down to the marrow."

His breath stutters—just a little—and you swear you hear the faintest groan under his breath. "You really got a mind for this, huh?"

"Someone’s gotta keep you on your toes," you tease, then lean back with a sigh that’s just this side of disappointed. "But hey—maybe you don’t need my advice, cutie." You let the pet name slide from your tongue like silk, knowing it’ll dig under his skin in all the right ways. "You’ve done fine on your own so far."

"Cute, huh?" His voice drops lower, almost a growl. "You keep talkin’ like that, sweetheart, an’ I might just take you up on all those suggestions."

"Who said I didn’t want you to?" You smile—wicked, daring—because if there’s one thing you’re learning about Ronin, it’s that he’ll chase anything that teases the edge of danger. And you? You’re dangling right over it.

"Your turn. Truth or dare?"

"Truth," you drawl, already tasting the weight of the question he’s about to throw at you.

His voice hums low through the call, lazy but sharp around the edges. "Best kill you've ever had."

Your smile twists—dangerous. "There was this guy… by the coast."

Ronin hums again, waiting.

"He was laughing at me," you continue, voice soft but with an undercurrent of something mean. "Like I couldn’t do it. So, I did. I watched him drown—slow. He wasn’t laughing when the water hit his lungs."

A beat of silence. Then—"Creative," he says, but there’s a lilt to his voice. Doubt. "I don’t buy it."

Your head tilts, and you give the screen a cold, strange look—like you’re deciding whether to laugh or rip him apart. And maybe both. "What?" The question is sweet, threatening—like a blade hidden in silk.

"What do you mean, ‘you don’t buy it’?" A breathy little laugh slips out, all teeth. "I get it, gorebaby… You thought I was some cute little writer just lookin’ for creative ways to kill ‘cause, hey, it’s all ‘for the book,’ right?" Your voice drips mockery, sharp and saccharine. "Did you invite me here to see how I play, or just to keep yourself entertained?"

He doesn’t answer immediately—but you hear it. The low, rough chuckle, curling dark and sweet through the static. He knows. And worse—he likes it.

"What the fuck d’you think?" His tone is smooth, but there’s something simmering beneath—interest. Curiosity. Hunger.

His smile deepens, wicked and knowing. "It’s not your turn yet, cutie." He lean closer, voice dropping low and silky. "Shouldn’t you be tellin’ me a believable kill, darlin’? Or are you just stalling?"

You stretch out the silence, letting it hang heavy between you both—just long enough to make him impatient. Then, with a sweet, venomous lilt, you break it.

"Alright, gorebaby," you purr, "since you’re so curious… Let’s play."

You start simple. A man in a parking garage—cold concrete, colder steel. "He begged," you muse, dragging the memory back like it’s a bedtime story. "Didn’t think I’d do it. But once the knife went in… well, it’s amazing how fast people stop laughing."

Ronin makes a sound—low and thoughtful. "Knives," he muses. "Classic. Personal. But c’mon, darlin’—you can do better."

"Better?" Your voice dips into something darker. "Alright."

The next one’s messier. A sleazebag who liked to corner women in alleys. You describe how easy it was to lure him—how stupid men are when they think they’ve already won. "He didn’t see the crowbar ‘til it was too late," you murmur, each word laced with syrupy amusement. "Bones crack real easy if you know where to aim. And once he stopped moving? Well, let’s just say I got curious about what’s underneath."

He exhales—sharp, quiet. Interested. You can almost picture him—head tilted, eyes gleaming like he’s savoring every word.

"Still with me, Devil?" You tease, voice sugar-sweet.

"Barely," he drawls, and you catch it—just the faintest hitch when you mention the break, the blood. He’s hooked.

So, you push deeper.

"Then there was this preacher," you continue, tapping your fingers against your desk like you’re counting bodies. "One of those real righteous types. Thought he was legit" You laugh—sharp, wicked. "I let him pray, y’know. Hands folded and everything. Guess the Devil answered first."

There’s a pause—just long enough to hear the way Ronin’s breath stirs against his mic.

"You’re makin’ it hard to focus, darlin," he admits, his voice rougher, lower. "Keep talkin’."

So, you do.

A drowning—slow and deliberate. "It’s fascinating," you muse, "how long the body fights when it wants to live. But the eyes… that’s the best part. Watching the light fade—knowing you did that? Feels better than any high."

His laugh slips out—dark and jagged. "You’re twisted," he says, and there’s a heat to it—a little more breath in his voice than before. "I like that about you."

You lean closer, voice curling sweet and deadly. "Funny," you hum. "I thought you wanted someone to be worse with, not just keep up."

He breathes out a soft, breathy curse, and you know you’ve got him. "Careful, darlin'," he warns, but there’s no threat in his voice—just that delicious, dangerous edge of wanting. "I might fall for you if you keep talkin’ like that."

"Aw, poor baby," you mock softly, then giggle—cruel and sweet. "And here I thought you were the Devil. Didn’t anyone teach you not to play with fire?"

"Took you long enough," you purr, fingers dancing across the keyboard like you’ve got all the time in the world. "I’m [Insert Name]—if you wanna see my work, just turn on the news."

And he doesn’t disappoint.

"No shit?" His voice hums through the call, low and velvet-smooth. "Didn’t peg you for a hands-on kinda girl. Thought you were just here to take notes."

You giggle—light, cruel, and just for him. "Awh, what’s the matter, Devil?" you tease, leaning closer to the mic. "Did it hurt your ego to find out I’m not just some cute little writer?"

A beat. Then, that wicked laugh of his spills out—slow, sharp, and laced with something dangerous.

"Cute?" he drawls. "Baby, I ain’t ever thought you were innocent."

You tilt your head, lips curling into a smile. Time to twist the knife.

"Still," you muse, dragging the words out like honey, "I gotta admit—when I hit my thousandth, it was kinda .."

He goes quiet. You let it linger. Let it burn.

"After all," He sigh, fake-pouting, "you were my inspiration. Kinda sad you quit…"

His breath catches—just barely—but you hear it.

You giggle again—soft, sweet, but there’s something off about it. Something wrong. Then, just as quickly, your smile fades.

"Although…" Your voice drops, quieter—almost thoughtful. "That thousandth kill?" You let out a sigh, hollow and cold. "Didn’t know it’d be the last one. Turns out…" You tilt your head, as if considering your own words. "It wasn’t fun anymore."

Ronin doesn’t speak. He’s listening. Hanging on every word like you’ve wrapped a noose around his curiosity and pulled it tight.

"I hated it," you confess, and your tone twists—half-bitter, half-bored. "Killing didn’t feel good after a while. It was boring." You scoff, like the very thought annoys you. "So, I quit. Just like that."

A beat of silence. Then, you laugh—sharp and bright and dripping with malice. "And here I thought you’d get it, Gorebaby. Guess not."

His breath crackles softly through the mic, but he’s still silent. You lean in, voice honeyed and cruel.

"I killed because I liked it," you continue, dragging each word out like you’re savoring it. "The blood. The mess. The way people break when they realize no one’s coming to save them." You hum, nostalgic, like you’re reminiscing about a favorite vacation. "No moral code. No fancy rituals. I didn’t need a reason—I was just… there."

You giggle again—high, light, and absolutely unhinged. "And I loved it, Ronin." The way you say his name—like it’s something fragile you could break—makes his breath hitch just slightly.

"HAHAHAHA!" Your laughter rings out, wild and unchecked, like you’re reliving the thrill of it. "But hey, it’s fine. I’m retired now, right? Outta the game. Mostly."

You drawl the last word like a promise you might break.

"Still…" Your voice softens, but there’s a razor edge underneath. "If you ever need some tips, Devil, just ask." You smile, sharp and sweet. "I’d be so happy to help."

Ronin snorts, low and mocking. "No shit." His voice drips with that signature arrogance—sweet like poison, sharp like broken glass. "What makes ya think I need pointers from Missy Bitchy herself?"

The way he spits the words—like you’re nothing but a joke—should annoy you. Should. But you know better.

You laugh, slow and syrupy. "Aw, Gorebaby…" You drag the nickname out, teasing like he’s just another plaything. "Did I hurt your fragile little pride?"

"Fragile?" He scoffs, but there’s heat under it, something twitching and raw. "Darlin’, I’ve been paintin’ these streets red since you were still playin’ pretend."

You hum, tilting your head. "Cute. But you and I both know…" You let your voice drop to a purr, soft and deadly. "I don’t play pretend. I finish what I start."

That earns you a low, wicked chuckle. "Is that right?" He leans in, voice dropping to something darker—something dangerous. "Then maybe you oughta prove it."

You giggle again—sweet, cruel, promising things no sane person would ever want. "Careful what you wish for, Devil…" Your smile sharpens. "I might just make you beg for it."

"It’s gonna be fun," you purr, voice dripping with wicked promise. "These next six months… let’s see if we self-destruct or fall in love."

You stretch back in your chair, knowing damn well how dangerous you sound—how dangerous you are. And judging by the silence on the line, Ronin knows it too.

He doesn’t speak right away. For once, you’ve left him quiet—left him thinking. But when he finally does respond, his voice is lower, rougher—like he’s already too far gone.

"Darlin’…" His laughter is soft and slow, like he’s savoring the taste of your words. "With a mouth like that, even Satan’d be on his knees."

You giggle—soft, sweet, and utterly sadistic. "Who says he isn’t already?"

[thesiltverses]

Hey Jon! Looking for a bit of writing advice since you seem to be pretty good at this- How do you write metaphors without being too on the nose? It’s something I’m struggling with at the moment. Thanks!

I'm probably not the right person to ask this question because I have very strong and specific opinions.

When we talk about metaphors being too on-the-nose, I think we're really saying one of three things.

It's too obvious in the sense that it's been done before (e.g. an oppressed fantasy race being used as a catch-all metaphor for real-life marginalised peoples)

It's too obvious in the sense that it's offputtingly reductive and over-simple, either in terms of making the story and characters feel real, or as a tasteless misrepresentation of the issue it aims to address (e.g. an oppressed fantasy race being used as a catch-all metaphor for real-life marginalised peoples).

A century's worth of establishment critical analysis attempting to make sense of modernism and post-modernism has made us all hopeless idiots who believe an allegory is invariably no good unless it's buried deep in complex referentiality and can only be retrieved with months of study. (e.g. a very timely example - J.B. Priestley's An Inspector Calls, where the author uses the format of the detective mystery to address the role of the super-wealthy in social murder and make the case that it is every bit as real as lawless murder, is extremely on the nose! It's taught in schools because the message is very clearly spelled out! But that's exactly what it needs to be and it would not be better if it was subtler! Being on the nose means you've landed the punch!)

So for me there is no broad-brush answer, it depends very much on the position and role of your metaphor in the story (and so this answer is probably useless, again, without knowing the specifics). I'd begin by asking yourself the same question on two fronts: where does the metaphor take me next?

As the writer, does the metaphor give me more to play with, or is it entrapping me into an over-familiar structure or tropes? A much-discussed 'bad metaphor' right now is horror movies where the monster is Trauma...which then blocks the narrative into a predictable corner where the hero inevitably has to cathartically overcome the Trauma or it'll send the wrong message.

Correspondingly, as an audience member, once I grasp the metaphor, what am I going to feel other than 'oh, I get it?' Children of Men is too direct and on-the-nose to even be considered an allegory. Its extremely unsubtle and one-note depiction of a monstrous near-future Britain that's forcibly rounding up refugees fills me nonetheless with powerful emotion - with terror, with unease, with anger, with a faint hope in the kindness of strangers. But that's in the immense strength of its characters, its careful observation, and its tense action to make me care. By comparison, when a fantasy story has human bigots locking up impoverished nomadic elves or what-have-you, I usually feel absolutely nothing, not because it's too fantastical, but because the writer doesn't have any genuine insights or depth of empathy for the issue or the (in)humanity involved, and is instead just using the metaphor as a piece of worldbuilding shorthand to signal to the audience who is good and who is bad. (Some writers will then attempt to gussy up the metaphor by introducing moral complexity - oh, no, the elves have stabbed a random innocent human! - but this doesn't actually improve anything, it only makes the parallel ever more tasteless.)

[foone]

There's an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation* where Picard and Crusher end up isolated far from the ship, together, in a dangerous situation while also slowly becoming telepathic with each other, until Crusher realizes Picard Had Always Loved Her But Never Admitted It.

And it's like, I want to say this episode some fanfic-ass-shit, right? It's a "solve the will-they-won't-they plot immediately by using Magic to force a confession". This is a tale as old as time! I think it's in like two Shakespeare plays in one form or another. But it's got the feel of fanfic because it's such a easy fan-fulfillment play that's easy and romantically cathartic to write and read.

The main reason I'm not immediately saying that, even if I may want to, is that this is Star Trek.

Half the founding fanfic tropes are exactly the kind of things that happened on Star Trek... And it's because they happened on Star Trek!

So many classic plots and settings and tropes have a real good example in a classic Star Trek episode, because Star Trek has been so influential on fanfic culture.

So you gotta be careful pointing at anything Star Trek and saying "fanfic trope", because 9 times out of 10 the only reason that trope is so common in fanfic is because Star Trek did it. They originated it or sometimes just codified it. It happens so often... It's bad odds.

Also, to be clear: I'm not saying fanfic is bad. Far from it! When I say it "feels like fanfic", I mean it feels like a specific type of fanfic: the fix-it emotional catharsis story. They finally kiss, they escape, they finally win, whatever the audience would love to see, but the ongoing show can't do because it would usually end the drama, or at least drastically shift the dynamic of the show: something they might not be able to do, mid season, in a syndicated drama!

This might be a kinda negative stereotype of fanfic, now that I think about it. Hmm.

* as always, my phone tries to predict the title as Star Trek: The Next Time, and I hope it never stops because I find that hilarious.

[lol-jackles]

Walker series finale review

It’s only been a week since Cordell nearly died and Luna died in Cassie’s arms, so their people are hard at work being there for them.  Like the start of season 3, Cordell wants everything back to the way it was and overcompensates by being extra, but his family simply want him to be in the present with them, and then take one step at the time. 

Stella tells her dad that there is no version of life where he’s being gone is better, it will just be a different kind of pain.  She gives him the letters he wrote while he was undercover in case he doesn’t make it out alive.  She and August didn’t read the letters because it came from a different version of their father and they don’t need that now.  However, perhaps Cordell do, and figures it out from there.

Despite Cordell’s assurance to Geri that the Jackal case was an “exception of exceptions”, Geri wisely tells him that there’s always going to be “the next big case” and when it happens, she wants Cordell to go to her for support.  This makes me super happy that Geri doesn’t demand that he cuts back on his work or give up his job altogether but wants to be there for him when his job inevitably gets messy again.

Cassie has to reach back to the past to galvanize herself into thinking about a different future than the one she planned with Luna and goes to the lieutenant job interview.  Trey appears to give a stronger interview, but he’s only been a ranger a short time and the job goes to Cassie.  Of course it does because they changed Cassie’s personality from Cordell-lite in season 2&3 to James-lite in season 4, so she got the lieutenant job as the newly minted female version of Larry James, who was also Cordell’s previous partner.  Anybody remember when she and Cordell tamper with evidence just to satisfy their curiosity? (X) It was actually one of my favorite scenes.

The job promotion further propels Cassie to “leap forward” into a new future.  It also means Cassie will no longer be Cordell’s partner, which is for the best because emotionally she blames him for Luna’s death even when she's concerned about Cordell and asked Geri how he is doing. Two things can be true.  I predicted a while back (looking for the specific post) that Cordell and Trey would eventually become partners and now that it’s confirmed, we are robbed of that dynamic in season 5.

August graduation party is crowded and loud and its cathartic for the audience to see everybody happy and celebrating. We even see Cassie smiling at Cordell’s toast to his son, August Edward Walker, and the rest of the family.  Here I was expecting a Shakespearean middle name for August but it’s from Emily who was a Twilight fan.  Liam and Ben declared themselves team Jacob and just like that they’re moving in together.

The party grows raucous, and Bonham and Abilene hide out in their house.  Abilene apologizes to Bonham for abandoning him while she was launching her wedding venue business and assures him that she wants to oversee and “meddle”, not deal with the bride of the week.  Nope she’s leaving bride handling to the gay guy.  Bonham compromise by keeping the boat and uses it for her events as a tax write off.  Win win!

Cordell takes a leave of absence for the summer to take August, Stella, and Geri (and a secret ring box) on a much-needed vacation, which Cassie grants on the first day of the lieutenant job because “they both need this”. A time apart from each other and away from the daily reminders will do them both good.

While the finale is a 'happy ending', there are underlying sadness that's been there since the pilot episode, starting with Cordell, then Micki, and now Cassie. Each of them has lost romantic partners to death and Cordell said time doesn't heal everything. What is unspoken is work and more work will get them through the pain of grief.

As Bonham and Abeline enjoys a boat ride and Cordell and his children and Geri head out of town, an unexpected double cliffhanger happens: Liam gets recruited by the governor for a secret job and he’s whisked away by men in black in front of the impressed Ben; the Davidson lands is sub-leased by a hippie version of SPN Lucifer, due to his all-white outfit, who is none other than Dawson Leery, played of course by a grinning James Van Der Beek!

Final score: 9.7. Point 1 deduction for each arcs we won't see in season 5: Cordell and Trey's new partnership , Liam's new job from the governor, and new neighbor cult leader Dawson Leery

[skania]

OnK Chapter 149

I know it doesn’t mean much coming from me because I’m always complaining about Aka’s writing, but…

And I mean it when I say that I expect nothing 😭 This was literally my first ever OnK-related reblog and its tags are more relevant than ever lmao

These, too:

#honestly I didn’t think too hard about any of this during my first read #because the romantic endgame seems so obvious that it kind of discourages guessing lmao #but re-reading these chapters has made me appreciate Aqua’s side of his bond with Akane a lot more

Back when I first got into OnK, I mentioned that Akane was the entire reason I kept reading the manga. I didn’t care about the romantic subplot, found Aqua/Kana extremely obvious and predictable, and Aqua plain boring.

It’s only during my second read that I paid close attention to Akane’s interactions with Aqua and I ended up playing myself into both, caring about Aqua and shipping him with Akane lol

This chapter has made me realize that despite everything, I'm not emotionally invested in whether they end up together or not. I’d prefer it, obviously, because Aqua truly is at his most interesting whenever he’s around Akane, and their dynamic has the best development in the manga (so far).

But it’s just like I said before: If they don’t end up together, that’s just Aka’s loss, not mine. I’m just here for Akane 😂

And as an Akane fan, I feel like the best thing for me to do right now is to just take a step back and watch things unfold, because Aka will do whatever he wants regardless of how any of us interpret his manga lol

So instead of posting the long post I originally wrote about this chapter when the leaks came out, I'll just share a a clown gif because in hindsight it was silly of me to expect Kana out of all people to have any sort of meaningful insight into Aqua 🤡

And a couple of things that caught my eye because I can't help myself:

Kana didn't even see Aqua and Akane have any sort of meaningful moment, just those two standing in each other's vicinity was enough to make her throw herself a pity party. How many more times is she going to pity herself and give up? How has Aka not tired of writing her this way? Where did her development from the Scandal arc go? 🤡

So Chapter 147 featured Kamiki thinking Ai doesn't love him and Kana thinking Aqua likes her. It even had a helpful "Cut 139: Misunderstanding" panel and everything. Will this mean something? Who knows!

Kana used guilt-trip! It was super effective!

Oh the irony! Poor Akane looks like she's been hard at work convincing herself that she's over Aqua. And you know what? I cheer for her and respect her energy 100%. I'd rather see her doing her mightiest to help him without any ulterior motives than to have her crying for him and hoping to get back with him every other chapter lol

Akane calling Kana out for her pity-party and for being cowardly was so cathartic that if I didn't already stan her, I'd have become a fan right now 😭 It also means that Aka is 100% aware of the way he writes Kana, so when will she finally be allowed to grow?

Kana's praise to Akane made me so sad though because yes, Akane is pretty and she's talented and she's kind. That's sweet of her to say. But that's not what made Akane someone special to Aqua: it was the way she understood him. The worst part is that Kana ends her praise by saying that Akane is a "goody-two-shoes" but... that's the opposite of how Akane views herself. She sees herself as someone who's not decent and not normal. So it's no wonder that while she gets flustered (it's her dear kana-chan praising her), she seems to get a bit sad/frustrated afterward. After all, for Akane it's probably the opposite. Men would prefer a decent, normal, bright girl like Kana - Aqua included.

I wish someone would tell Akane that she is too ignorant of her own charms and that she doesn't have to act like an adult all the time. Truly the pot calling the kettle black! Sadly, unlike Kana, Akane seems to have no one in her corner in this manga. Aqua was the only one there and the poor guy is barely even a character anymore lol

Overprotective mother or controlling ex-girlfriend? Take your pick!

The English translation left something pretty important out in these panels. Akane doesn't just say "if you have a girlfriend", she says "if you have a precious/important girlfriend". This distinction is very important because it goes to show that... as expected, Akane doesn't think she was an important girlfriend to Aqua. It's like she didn't count and Kana would be the real deal. Oh, Akane...

Which takes me to her very silly, very convoluted yet very predictable plan (in true Aka fashion).

When Akane thinks “I know exactly what you hate”, I imagine she means that Aqua hates hurting and endangering those he cares for. So I'm guessing Akane thinks that if she plays matchmaker and quite literally throws Kana at him, someone he has a soft spot, then Aqua won't be able to go through with his revenge because that would mean breaking Kana's very fragile heart.

In other words, it looks like Akane is going to try and use Aqua's guilt-complex against him and her weapon of choice is love. But not her love, obviously, because as far as she's concerned, her romantic love already failed to save him.

Granted, using Kana's romantic feelings to her advantage is kind of... well, wrong. To quote Akane herself, [Kana] is neither her pet nor her property, but a person. But I'm guessing that Akane may be falling victim to the same loophole she got caught in in Chapters 96 - 98. She thinks she knows what's best, so she's putting her own beliefs aside for the time being.

Kind of like Aqua, actually.

And, ironically, it's Aqua himself who first realized how easy Kana is to use.

So! All in all, I'm here for Mastermind!Akane but I hope that Aka will actually make it worth our while. Will Kana realize that she's about to be used as a chess piece in this Proxy War? Who knows, characters in this manga seem to walk in circles, only being allowed to grow when it fits the plot 😂

Last week we wondered whether Aka would subvert expectations or go the predictable route, and down the predictable route he went. His way of making it less predictable is by including a twist in the form of Akane's ulterior motives, but will this be enough to allow this ol' used trope to lead us someplace new? I guess we'll have to keep reading to find out, but given the quality of the writing lately, I'm not expecting much lol

[raggedyhive]

Throwing more things into the overvoid of tumblr!!

Just having Thoughts™ and DID and other dissociative disorder rep. My thoughts have evolved since even Moon Knight which is like simultaneously wild and yet completely predictable. I’ve always stood on the side of like fictional counterparts of real things should be expected to be “problematic” to some degree because that is the nature of fiction and compelling stories. E.g., with Moon Knight, it’s a superhero show first. While I’m still of mixed opinion of them specifically tagging the show as “dude with dissociative identity disorder” for reasons unrelated to all this, I do actually believe it to be decent rep, and I’m glad they never overtly said it in the show. Just sorta rolled with it, as you do.

My thoughts and opinions of that time inspired a whole-ass fuckin' series dedicated to exploring the dissociative disorder side of things, definitely dedicated to depicting the experiences as accurately as possible while also holding as much of the lingo/insight stuff that I’ve learned back to focus instead on the living of the thing. Which I have found I still love doing, even if it’s with different characters these days.

All that being said is like. My approach is different these days. I’m actually able to enjoy things that are in this vein much more easily since I’m a lot less anal about it. Like, the Moon Knights comics are a mess and weird as shit and if I went at them for accuracy I might have an aneurysm. But we can let fiction be fiction, and I’ve also found that, yeah, people take realms of the ideas of dissociation to a lot of interesting places when not bound by the “rules” of the disorder. Appreciating things is fun. Being able to shunt them aside as “not DID” for me is the easiest step, since the diagnosis/term itself holds a lot of weight to me and that’s what rats like me gotta do. And once I do that, I’m just all in, and it’s pretty fucking magical. I now think I adore reading things that step aside and aren’t anal and obsessive about the disorder and instead are more cerebral and focused on “what ifs” and being able to run with all kinds of ideas and how to cope and deal with those new what ifs as the given reality. Dealing with it as it comes. Or maybe I just really, really liked this one specific work lol, seeing as I haven’t read that much fiction on split identities these days.

In my case, though, as before, I’m pretty sure I’m like bound super tightly to realism and accuracy as much as can be possible in the context of the original work. MCU is wild and full of superheroes and magic and shit, but whenever I write about this topic, I find that it’s almost always centered on the lived experience of the condition and coping/living with it as the central point, and it’s simultaneously the reason why I’m writing it. Because I want it to be accurate and cathartic for people who do get it, or who don’t but are interested in that kind of thing. I end up writing weird niche shit because of that, I think, but those tend to be my favorites.

So approaching fiction and representation is different for me these days. When the goal of the author seems to be to provide entertainment, I may as well sit the hell back and be fucking entertained and appreciate the work, especially when “entertainment” feels too small a word to encompass the depth and gravity of a piece that clearly cares so, so much about both its subject matter and its readers.

Because I’m me, I also do that while still comparing to the actual condition the piece mimics. It’s worth noting this doesn’t diminish a piece of fiction at all: it’s fiction, it’s entertainment, it’s really fucking good. This is just super interesting to me so I get to have a delightful time breaking it down into gnawable chunks!

Gonna reblog with the Actual Content™ as I generate it (related to the fic Fracture Lines by torrential on AO3.

[alchely]

Finally finished Redheaded Stepchildren by ZebraWallpaper, what a masterful story, amazing writing.

Summary: Debbie and Lip's relationship with Ian as seen through their POV after the ending of season 4.

Took a long ass break at the beginning of the second part of the series cause Lip and Fiona are... something in this fic but I decided to get over it and just finish it.

Some things to say about this fic:

It feels dark, like S4 kind of "oh you've hit rock bottom? Let me get a shovel" kinda dark, especially in Lip's POV.

It was written before S5 even aired and yet it somehow predicted character arcs from S5,S6,S7 and beyond with an accuracy that borders on prophetic lol, a mindfuck to read.

If you like Lip, like...really like Lip you will not have a good time with him in this fic.

His opinions of Mickey and Ian's situation in this story is out of this world cruel and while it makes for one of the most cathartic beatdowns I've ever had the privilege of reading, it still means you have to get through all the buildup to it as well.

[gemmafuckingscout]

ok so I sent an ask but i doubt it went through but if it did ignore the last one bc this msg is more in-depth.

THAT CHAPTER OF KAMT WAS AMAZING

You have the perfect ability of including tropes into your work (internalized homophobia[ish] & accidental "i love you's") without overpowering your story. Sometimes, people get really into all the tropes and it's sort of like when you proofread your friend's essay and it's clear they just used a thesaurus for everything. But that's not what happened with your fic. You managed to achieve the right mix between the two. I get delightfully surprised when I see a plot I vaguely recognize and it still keeps the story moving/isn't off topic.

I am also a fiend for angst, like "yesss give me the yearning and longing for what you think you don't deserve." (idk what that says about me)

NOT ONLY THAT, this chapter was also paced properly. There was an appropriate shift, not a shove. I/the reader can sense the mood change and it isn't abrupt. perfect.

this is also random but did you intentionally name the senator after the cat from aristocats?

ok final two things:

i would've left an ao3 comment instead of a tumblr ask, but I realized that I would get embarrassed like a week later of leaving a comment on ao3 and would delete it, but here I can't do that.

I also had a bad morning so this was a great treat and I cannot wait for the next chapter!

OMG ANONNNN this is everything to meeeeeee 😭😭😭 this was my first time writing true angst and i was so worried about having proper pacing and build up especially so this message truly made my whole week 🥹💓

i grew up on soooooo many rom coms so i love my tropes and i'm SO delighted to hear that they're not too predictable/they blend well into the story!!

the YEARNING!! ugh i love reading/watching yearning in media so it's been sooo cathartic creating my own with my two little toys 🥰

LMAO i did NOT realize they have the same name that's so fucking funny dfhajkdhfl i truly just used a random name generator, i probably picked it because it sounded familiar 😅

totally totally understand! 💓 i can get self conscious about this kind of thing too, but i also want you to know that these kinds of comments/messages make me sooo happy! there's nothing to be embarrassed about :) i hope you have a better rest of your week! 🫂

[hillbilly---man]

A list of my works on AO3

(they're all Saiki K fics at the moment but I'll add fandom categories to this post if I ever get a new interest lol)

It doesn't fit my plans; it's something I don't understand

Published July 11, 2021

Summary: Saiki is fascinated by Satou Hiroshi, and the people around him start to see that this might be more than just a platonic curiosity.

What is this feeling called love?

[Notes: Bittersweet ending. Nobody gets together. My insistence on theming these early fics after songs is pretty embarrassing now. I'm not proud of my writing here but the story is ok. I might rewrite it someday. Not bad for my first fic since like 2003 though]

Something Changed

Published August 11, 2021

Summary: Aiura wrote a letter to her soulmate the night before they were supposed to meet.

She's predicted a lot of things... how could she have gotten this one wrong?

[Notes: Another sad ending. The format of this is almost entirely an excited letter about the future Aiura imagined that would never come to pass. Not really much of a story happening here tbh]

Won't it be strange when we're all fully grown?

Published August 28, 2021 (INCOMPLETE)

Summary: With graduation quickly approaching, the psychics of PK Academy (and Akechi) worry that they'll drift apart. Luckily, they come up with an idea.

"Let's all meet up in the year 2030!"

A lot can change in a decade.

[Notes: Kind of like a psychicker class reunion where they're all adults with jobs and everything catching up. Future chapters were going to have almost a Scooby Doo vibe (with a twist reveal at the end about Aiura's husband!) I abandoned it because I posted some art and someone called my art creepy and it made the whole fic feel bad to think about. Maybe I'll get back to it someday. It's cool to see how quickly my writing improved. I was also super proud of how well I wrote Akechi's dialogue here]

Hotel Valentine

Published September 24, 2021

Summary: Toritsuka Reita is a pretty lucky guy. He somehow managed to not get expelled from PK Academy, he graduated, and he's avoided creeping on any living girls for a few months. To celebrate, the PK Psychics paid for a one-night stay in the fanciest hotel in Tokyo so Reita can creep on the ghost girl of his dreams. Pretty lucky, right?

Too bad things aren't going his way. He's being ignored by the staff, he's bored out of his mind, and he can't find the ghost girl anywhere. Some vacation, huh?

[Notes: Spoiler: Toritsuka's a ghost stuck in a nice hotel. This is based on a concept album that most of you have never heard but hear me out! It really has nothing to do with the Cibo Matto album of the same title except that the chapters are named after the songs and there are fun Easter eggs for fans of the album. Another slightly sad ending but not too bad]

Coffee & TV

Published August 27th, 2022

Summary: The new silence in her house felt heavy on Kumi's shoulders. Everything reminded her of Kumagoro... especially her grandson Kusuo, who has been coming to visit more often than ever before.

[Notes: this is my least popular finished fic and I understand why. It's about grief and the loss of a grandparent. It's about the unique pain that a psychic would have after failing to prevent that death. There's a sad twist that TBH I think I was a little too subtle with. One of my favorites]

Friendly Fire

Published January 8, 2023

Summary: Being an adult is great until the Problems start. Good grief.

30-year-old Kusuo's psychic powers have been pretty well controlled for over a decade. Why are things starting to go haywire all of a sudden?

[Notes: Friendly Fire my fucking beloved!! In this fic, Saiki gets essentially psychic multiple sclerosis and has to deal with some complicated emotions. I don't think it's a masterpiece or anything but it was cathartic to write and I'm in love with the versions of these characters that I wrote here. So much so that I'm writing a sequel just so I can write more of them. Also, FINALLY a happy ending!!]

Ramen Ikouze?

Published April 28, 2023

Summary: After being dragged to get ramen with Nendou every week, Kusuo starts to realize that it's not so bad after all.

[Notes: I love Nendou, he's so good. This fic is very cute and about their friendship. A couple of fun twists]

Saiki has Plans?

Published May 2, 2023

Summary: Saiki mentions having plans after school, and the overactive imaginations at PK Academy work themselves into a fuss trying to imagine what he could be doing.

[Notes: This fic follows around a bunch of Saiki's classmates as they gossip and snoop to find out what he's up to. It's my most popular fic for some reason]

A Bright Flash

Published May 13, 2023

Summary: Saiki develops an annoying new ability, and through some comedy series logic is forced to tell Teruhashi about it. She tries to be a good ally to her "newly psychic" crush.

[Notes: Teruhashi accidentally finds out about Saiki's new power and he's like "fine. I'm a psychic. But it's just this one power and nothing else."]

Heat Wave

Published June 6, 2023

Summary: There's a historic heat wave in Hidariwakibara, and some of our favorite PK Academy students end up running into each other while taking refuge from the hot weather.

A series of four standalone (but connected) stories taking place at the same time:

Aiura has a vision of disaster, and she and Nendou try to stop it

Yumehara gives Toritsuka some advice to improve his game

Akechi meets Teruhashi's brother

Saiki really wants some shaved ice from the kakigori stand where Mera is working

[Notes: The summary explains it well but also I weaved so many connections between the chapters (that are all happening at roughly the same time). It was also a lot of fun writing interactions between characters that didn't get much in canon. Also you can tell it was hot as hell when I wrote it because I definitely gave Saiki some kind of psychic heat intolerance lol]

Immunity

Published July 6, 2023

Summary: She didn't know why, but Kokomi was finally able to see the truth.

Why Saiki seemed to appear and disappear without explanation. Why it seemed like he always knew what she was planning. Why he wore those weird hairpins.

It was all so obvious now.

Saiki had psychic powers.

[Notes: The veil is lifted suddenly and all the truths that Saiki kept locked behind his mind control were revealed to Teruhashi. He and Aiura have a chat with her about it. Also this was the first fic of mine that an IRL friend read (to my knowledge) and his comment was something like "I don't know anything about your boy but he sounds autistic and gnc" and I took that as a fucking compliment! You know you've written Saiki right when people can see that shit from space]

The Disastrous Financial Situation of Saiki K

Published August 9, 2023 (IN PROGRESS)

Summary: Adjusting to his new limitations has been annoying, and now Kusuo (age 31) needs a car to get around.

Unfortunately, taking time off work has drained his savings.

How is he going to get the money for a car now?

[Notes: This is my sequel to Friendly Fire but it's a lot lighter in nature. 100-Yen-Man goes around doing stuff for Saiki's friends. There are mentions of his disability from Friendly Fire and it's plot relevant but I think you can catch on even if you didn't read the original. I haven't updated in a while but I am actively working on it!! A Yumehara and Makino chapter next and then a Toritsuka chapter after that. TBH this isn't my best work and it's pretty unpopular but I'm having fun and that's all that counts)

[bethanydelleman]

okok i was reading ur "why u should read ___" posts and it made me think of the time a friend recommended i read sense&sensibility bc she knew i was always complaining abt being a 'third parent' bc of being the eldest daughter and she was like "i think the book will speak to u on a certain level" and to this day the dashwoods' trials and triumphs are my most stressful and cathartic reread lolol. so i thought it would be cool to ask u since ur into jane austen PLUS have a cognitive neuroscience bg: what do u think a person's favorite austen novel (or heroine! or hero!) says about them? the more absurdly detailed you can get (once i saw a post "what ur favorite [tv show] character says abt u" that predicted the kinds of grades u got lmao) the better🤣

I don't think your favourite novel (Austen or otherwise) says anything about you.

My best friend is a very nice person and an accountant, she loves reading bloody thrillers and mystery novels. She ranks her favourites by body count. My favourite novel is The Fairy Godmother by Mercedes Lackey and my favourite Austen novel is Mansfield Park. I like the magical world-building in the first and the characterization in the second. I don't think either says anything about me personally (other than that I have good taste, lol). As much as my friends may joke about it, the person I married isn't even a little like my favourite character Henry Crawford.

Sometimes people really like characters that are a lot like them, but sometimes they hate them. I honestly think a lot of hate for Marianne Dashwood and Catherine Morland is people not wanting to remember when they were a dramatic or naive teenager. I personally really enjoy reading from the perspective of someone who is very dissimilar to me, like Fanny Price. It helps build empathy.

I think what most people enjoy in fiction and in real life can be very different. I made a Venn diagram recently of my three favourite TV shows and apparently what I love the most is murderous women, enemies to lovers, and people who want to die but can't because of magic and then rediscover meaning in life. I don't think that means anything, it's just something I enjoy in fiction.

That said, if you relate to Elinor Dashwood and reading Sense & Sensibility is cathartic, that's great! Enjoy! Jane Austen writes great relatable characters.

[swifty-fox]

Hiiiiiii 8 and 17 ❤️

8. what fic meant the most to you to write?

alls well that ends for sure haha. If you haven't been able to tell by all these asks it's kind of my darlingtm. It pulls a lot from my own family and their history and was very cathartic in a lot of ways.

17. share your favorite opening line

predictably,

John held a cigarette like it was a blunt. Tight like the opposite end was wider, heavier. Pinched between thumb and middle in a facsimile of coaxing out the lost few tokes. Gale isn’t sure whether it’s a carefully curated image or long force of habit. He knows John doesn’t smoke grass anymore, piss tested until parole’s over, can’t even eat a poppyseed muffin without setting off six alarms. 

[the-hype-dragon]

Books I Read in September

The Compass Rose by Ursula K. Le Guin - 5/5

Collection of short stories, some dystopian sci-fi, some speculative fiction, a couple of fantasy, and some of them are really funny; I really enjoyed most of them. Probably my favorites were "The Pathways of Desire," "The Wife's Story," "The Author of the Acacia Seeds," "The White Donkey," "The Diary of the Rose," "Gwilan's Harp," and "Sur." Le Guin has become one of my favorite authors this year. I recommend picking this book up or at least reading of some of the stories online if you're able, they were all pretty solid.

Deerskin by Robin McKinley - 5/5, reread

One of my all-time favorite books and my favorite McKinley book. Not an easy read but very cathartic. The ending makes me cry every time.

Her Smoke Rose Up Forever by James Tiptree, Jr. aka Alice Sheldon - 4/5

All I can say is, I'm amazed anyone thought she was a man, especially after dropping "The Women Men Don't See." Kind of a weird pick but the story that stuck with me the most was "The Man Who Walked Home," about a man trapped between times, pretty eerie. "The Girl Who was Plugged In" kind of predicts influencer culture funnily enough, while presenting the sort of nightmare scenario that would probably realistically arise in a trans-humanist cyberpunk future. Overall I liked this collection and I came away from it with another new favorite writer. However Sheldon was very frank about things such as sex, assault, misogyny, death, etc. so definitely not for everyone.

I also attempted to read Patricia Bray's Devlin's Luck but got less than 50 pages into it before calling it quits. didn't like the writing style, everything and everyone felt very lifeless

anyway. on to October

[kardia-library-official]

...Actually, come to think of it, I do want to talk about it! I've actually wanted to make a rambly introspective post about h/c and related things for quite some time.

Part of it is, like, predictable stuff, Blame My Upbringing, whatevs. You know this story already. Let me start off by saying that my mom is a decent person despite her issues, and I do not blame her. She's just not the person to have around when you're suffering physically or emotionally in any way. No one in her family knows how to care for people without infantilizing them, she's not good in any situation she can't directly control, and she's a hypochondriac who is inexplicably mistrustful of medicine.

So I learned pretty early in life that showing discomfort of any kind was like spinning some godawful roulette wheel. Would I be treated like a toddler? Would she arbitrarily decide I was dying or something? Would I be dismissed altogether because Fixing Problems Means Problems Exist? Either way, my problem would not be solved, and something unpleasant would happen. So I became a champion Dog Moder pretty early in childhood, and didn't have glasses or an inhaler until I was 23. Good times!

Now, I think a lot of this is actually innate in me, and I'm just a cagey mesopredator of a person who doesn't like a fuss, so I think a big part of the issue is that we were mismatched. But everyone still needs care to some extent, even though I just kind of... Forgot I did, I guess? Especially because I never had an experience of care coexisting with respect, and would choose respect any day.

So yeah, common daydream scenarios for me, for most of my life, tended to involve someone noticing a stoic character's pain, and striving to alleviate it while also Not Making A Big Fuss. Loving, but casual and easy, and taking the person's actual needs and personality into account. That was my big unrealistic ideal, I guess. :P

...Luckily, my partner and I met as teens, and holy shit, care and respect at the same time!? Just, like, being gentle, and making sure I have what I need? And noticing that something's wrong even though I don't show a lot of outward signs, and wanting to help me actually fix it? Even two decades on, it's a huge novelty, and feels like home! So even though my needs are better met now, I still want to celebrate that, because it's transcendent! And it's also just what I know.

So yeah, that's my best explanation for the comfort half, but when it comes to the hurt...

...I'm just a morbid little creep. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Okay, okay, I'll try to actually explain!

I just have kind of a fascination with pain/illness/injury, probably as an extension of a general fascination with bodily workings and matters. I've always liked biology, and one of the first books I remember reading/looking through on my own is my aunt's old anatomy textbook from when she was in nursing school. It's just one of my Themes, y'know? I don't know if it's in spite or because of my poor interoception, honestly. (What the hell is going on in there!? Mysteries abound!)

So yeah, I've always had an interest in this stuff. Actually, when I wrote more original fiction, a lot of it bordered on body horror! And wish there was more opportunity to flex those muscles in the RF world... I loved writing the nightmare sequences in ATNG, and am itching for a chance to use/create my interpretations of how healing potions work (or rather don't), what the various status effects do and feel like, etc. (Unfortunately, I don't write enough action!)

Also, I think they're important topics! As I've said before, something going wrong with the body is familiar to pretty much everyone to some degree. And it's a visceral topic that can inspire big feelings, which is catnip to me as a Romantic! Plus, it's a great way to explore a character. (Thinking of that passage that says something to the effect of how you don't really know a person until you've seen them ill or grieving.) And it's just cathartic, especially if you're like me and have spent a lot of your life processing pain and discomfort alone in your head.

And... idk! I'm just a weird freaky goth girl at heart! I'm Marian! It's Not That Deep. Or as deep as I want it to be! Either way, I've been being weird about gross stuff for most of my life, and I'm still having too much fun to stop.