#like how am i getting WORSE. I've been watching it for like half my life at this point 😭

[blizzardfluffykpop]

one of these days i'm going to lose whatever sainity i have left and watch chucky... 😔 i used to wanna watch sole-y for tiffany/jennifer tilly- and now with the changmin influence i'm so curious 😔 like as if i don't have bad nightmares after watching most horror content- but like- god- i wanna write changmin as chucky and tiffany as the reader so bad it's not even funny- (ik he views good chucky as his son *which i have been happily able to see most of it until it got too scary* but bad chucky! changmin 🫠)

[mwagneto]

finished rewatching rtd era. literally took me uhm. two and a half months. in fucking shambles rn

[fluideli123]

I've watched the DP&W movie twice in theaters and three plus times on a pirated site, and I wanted to grant my analysis on Wade and Logan's relationship that not only respects Vanessa--because Vanessa was literally Wade's Soulmate until shit hit the fan and you can pry that fact from my cold dead hands. But also explains how Logan and Wade actually represent a a-spec experience and relationship that I feel like no one has really gotten into. Am I saying they're a-spec? No. But that doesn't mean queer relationships that are fairly normal in a-spec spaces doesn't mean they don't exist outside of them as well.

First of all, the only two reasons I believe Vanessa and Wade broke up was 1) Wade went back in time to save Vanessa and he told her after his usual routine of jokes and lies and 2) Wade finally believed he could be something more, a hero, only to be turned down by the people who are known for their heroism, leaving him lost.

I genuinely believe Vanessa had a hard time taking in that knowledge, but knowing Wade and everything they've been through she would get through that like the badass she is and work through it using her plans A-Z, as she always does. But I think to really stop that woman from continuing to start a family with Wade like she wanted to in Deadpool 2, is if Wade was no longer within the right mindset to do so.

Deadpool 1 introduced Wade as someone who believed he was a bad guy who got paid to fuck up worse guys, he refused the term hero, and the moment he even tried to reach for something selfless. An act that would hopefully spare Vanessa from the pain of cancer, it all got fucked up and he got turned into a monster. Someone he deemed even lesser than he was before. So far gone and completely removed from what he was loved for (his looks and personality, but how could his personality stand alone when he looked so ugly? As ugly as he always felt on the inside?)

So he turned to what he's always known: Tracking people down and making them pay. In his mind this only confirms that he's a monster, he isn't deserving of Vanessa, of anyone. Which is why he finds comfort in Blind Al, a woman who will only have to deal with his personality and not be able to see how ugly he actually is. Symbolism for showing only half of himself and not him in his entirety (not that he can hide it from her, she's too wise, knowledgeable, caring, and knows Wade better than he knows himself at this point.)

Eventually, he finishes his hunt and is still loved despite what had transpired. Vanessa still chose him, still loved him. So maybe despite how ugly he is, he can still be loved. This grounded him, solidified his self worth, have him such stability that he had a thriving relationship with Vanessa that they were SO ready to start a family, aspired to live that dream. Another act of selfishness. Only to, once again, be met by pain. Get his dream taken away, once again resorting to what he knows: revenge.

Wade wants to be a hero? He gets forcefully mutated. Wade wants a family? Vanessa gets killed. Both are immediately solved by death, but that self-loathing and sickening hatred towards himself do nothing to cure that same confirmation he had once thought he got over: That he wasn't a monster, he could be loved, be something else.

So of course Vanessa is who, even in death, looks him in the eyes and tells him he cares, he has always cared. He cares so deeply about the people in his life he meets who unconditionally love him for him as time passes, despite all his flaws.

Wade wants to be a hero? Colossus believes he can be. Wade wants to save the 13-year-old abused kid? Vanessa knows he can. He saves lives by sacrificing himself. He scarified his comfort to show Vanessa the full truth of his ugliness, he sacrificed his life for Russel to give him a better life. Maybe he isn't a complete monster, maybe he can believe again. He can be selfish, he can be reckless. So he goes back and saves more people. Heroes do that. They save the people they love. You don't hold the whole world on your shoulders, no, like Miles learned in ATSV you think of one person of the few people you want to fight against the world to protect. And he did just that.

With Vanessa back and a big family he can finally chase after what he wasn't meant for. Because it's only happened twice, it wouldn't happen again-

Rejection. He can't be a hero because people don't need him. He is the needy one, the one who wants to be needed, needs to be wanted. So, it's the crash. The final straw. He breaks. He breaks so hard because what the fuck is the point to trying if every time he is met with failure? Rejection? Pain? Loss? He becomes so stuck in figuring this all out he neglects his relationship with Vanessa, causing issues. They go separate ways, but still so close, because you don't just lose your best friend like that, even if you're no longer partners. They're always meant to be together one way or another.

So you have this broken man who is searching for purpose, years later still harboring this tiny flicker of hope that he can be greater. He can be great. He can be a hero.

His world is in trouble, he doesn't think twice saving it. He accepts he isn't perfect for this, not like all the big guys back in Avengers headquarters, but he can't let his loved ones die because of someone he's had a vendetta against the last two movies.

He literally fights and fights and fights to find someone to help him, Wade can't save who he loves he has to find someone else you can, anyone else.

Than a broken, desperate man walks into a bar to see another broken man who has since long given up.

The thing about Logan and Wade is that they don't need words. Wade blew himself up in order to die in the second movie, Logan drinks himself away, both knowing they can't die no matter how much they want to. How much they believe they deserve it.

So Wade sees a Wolverine who has potential, who hasn't hurt him (unlike the others, he gets hurt so much, guys) and places his faith in him without hesitation. From that moment on he has never truly doubted Logan's abilities nor his heroism, because he knew his Logan and if his world was anchored by a Logan than all Logan's are built with something he isn't. They're made to be heroes, made to be important. Yeah, they fight, but I strongly believe that's how two broken men say everything words can't possibly describe.

I mean what words could describe the way they go all out on each other, knowing the other can't die, the way Wade looks up at him, not wanting to regrow his entire body because he needs to save his world and understands Logan and has to decide to say something that'll convince him to help. Wade doesn't know if stopping the machine will completely save his world or if a new Logan will patch it up too, it's his own educated wish he passes onto Logan. Because just like Russel, he cares. He understands. He wants to help.

It's that faith, hope, and resistance and face of humor despite it all that causes Logan to stick by that dumb asses side. He lost everything, he is seeing someone like himself before he stumbled home drunk from the bar to find everyone dead. Someone who is capable of doing something he wasn't able to. He wants to help, more and more for Wade and less himself, a silent journey of healing following Wades steps everywhere they stumble into.

Because Logan was just drunk at a bar before being told he was needed to save a world, told he was the worst before being offered help anyone, getting praised over his capabilities, and than told again and again how he is able to be someone he never thought he could be. Much like Wade was and is.

Logan sees it. Wade most likely ignores it, much like anything else. He isn't very open with anyone other than Vanessa as we've learned.

So just- of course Wolverine is the honest one, of course he hits low, he sees himself and Wade and wants to hurt him. Wade wants to hurt him back, but only when he's directly attacked by his words and threats, a way of not taking shit. Logan took shit from the world and than didn't from Wade and his emotional rollercoster right. And I think without whatever happened in that Honda Odyssey things wouldn't have been the same. They needed that fight, that release, that hatred from themselves to burst into the form of someone else who could take it just as much as the other could.

Logan listens to Wade's home at the borderlands. Logan is given kindness and tough love. Logan joins. Logan begins to understand how most linger by Wade's side despite everything. He sees why. He's a force, he doesn't give up, he doesn't quit, not for others. It grants strength, though imperfect and messy.

Logan believes Wade deserves better. So he plans on sacrificing himself only for Wade to once again show how much of a Hero he wants to be and could be. Only for those two idiots to hold hands to madona and come to a mutual understanding and comfort that has Wade making room for Logan in his and Al's apartment.

And there is something so inherently a-spec about not being explicitly sexual with each other, having an understanding that goes beyond direct words and full truths. They they can hurt one another and it feels so good, so wanted and cherished. How they support one another by being fucked up and sloppy. They're wrecks and they help the other heal, do what they're too afraid to do.

What is more a-spec than two people looking at each other with adoration and trust? To be two people who cannot be placed within a single both because their relationship and meaning to one another isn't so neatly cut and within expectations? To love in a way that blood and standing side by side is a comfort? A steadying point in which everything becomes clearer with time?

They make me so fucking sick, they make me so FUCKING SICK.

[girlwithadragonheart]

I need to yap desperately about one single gripe I have with this game. MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD read at your own discretion

The first half is me ranting about how much certain things mean to me and how impacted I was, and the actual gripe comes closer to the end.

I'll preface this by saying this post is about Varric's death and my rage and despair regarding it, but more so about my Rook's.

I've seen people who said they picked up on the hints about whatnot, who knew before the Fade Prison. I was not one of those people. I was so relieved when I saw him after the Prologue that I didn't think twice, because I knew that it would destroy me the second shit started going wrong.

I was already not having a good time when I started the game simply because Varric was getting older. I don't handle aging well or death, and his design showing his age, and the comments he would make about "getting too old for this" just made my heart break.

And then shit got worse. I sobbed disgustingly when that knife went into Varric's chest.

After Rook woke up from talking to Solas and she heard Varric, I was so gods damned relieved. And my Rook was better taken care of by Varric in that year she spent with him than she was in the rest of her entire life.

I cried from the end of Ghilan'nain's fight until the romance scene and on and off after that. I got so used to visiting Varric just to be comforted by his presence. Inquisition was the biggest part of my life for a year and a half when I was just a kid.

I did really bad middle school age writing for it but regardless of the quality, those characters were built up in my head becoming even more than they were in the game. Varric was my biggest support character through everything I was going through at the time.

I don't talk about it much, but I didn't have a great childhood, and I know a lot of people didn't, but I coped with it through writing and video games. Varric was the one supporting me through the abuse I suffered and writing was the way I processed how bad things really were.

When Rook was in the prison she said "What am I going to find here?" And Varric said "I think you already know, kid." I DIDN'T until he said that. The second he said that my entire chest tightened and I just said "No" out loud as I watched Rook find his body.

Now for my real complaint!!!

Rook never gets the chance to grieve Varric. They go from talking to him every day to finding out he's dead and it was all a lie. I have personally never been more fucking pissed at Solas than I am now. But Rook comes back and they have that kind of "closing off" scene with Varric's empty bed (which was so hard to go through btw). And then they fuck their pookie LIKE I CANNOT BE THE ONLY ONE UPSET ABT THAT

FYM I gotta find out my dad is dead and then Rook is up for boning like there's no fucking way unless it's to cope. And at least pertaining to the Lucanis romance, Rook is processing everything that happened and they can say "So much has happened, I just don't know how to feel."

And rather than getting to process that in some kind of way, the devs said nah this scene serves one singular purpose, and Lucanis says "I do" and then dicks them down.

Personally, I felt very dismissed despite being overjoyed about finally having the romance scene, I couldn't even enjoy it with everything that happened prior.

Rook deserved the chance to completely break down after everything they went through. Tbh i don't know how they kept it together. Varric said "don't get all misty eyed" and i thought to myself that's way too delicate a term for what's happening here, I was fully ugly crying.

Fuck your "I had a good run" I still need you bitch.

All this to say I'm very upset, and I'm running my second playthrough and every time I look at, hear, or talk to Varric I tear up again. Wtf Bioware.

Rook should've gotten the chance to actually talk about what Solas did to them, especially in the sense that he made them believe Varric was still there. Or at least get to properly grieve the person who was their closest friend for a long time.

I have very strong feelings about this obviously

[44-mr-midnight-44]

"(FUCK YOU YOU AQUAMARINE ANGRY LITTLE SHIT!)"

Atop the tall podium, rinsed in an iridescent, golden hue, a celestial rim washing down each corner; trimmed by a dusty silver, shivering with a pearly shine.

"[WHAT DID I DO, HUH? EXACTLY WHAT? DID I STAND WRONG? DID MY EYESIGHT MAKE YOU JEALOUS? AM I OFFENDING YOU WITH MY ABILITY TO SHUT UP?]"

The audience, cornered in the nooks of their seats, twitched and bowed at the rancorous uproar.

"(WELL IIIIIII'M SORRY, I HAD TO CARRY US ALLLLLL THE WAY HERE, YOU GODDAMN CUCK!)"

"Guys…" A well-heighted man, head the shape and hue of a noble planet. "You both won, you don't have to–"

"[WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'CARRY', YOU TURKEY-BRAINED BODY ODOUR-FRAGRANTED PURPLE MASS OF DEPRESSED RODENTS?]" Mind tightly roared from the crease of his lips, whipping his brand new sun trophy onto the podium; a hard, metallic clatter snapping into the flooring. "[IF IT WEREN'T FOR ME, WE WOULDN'T EVEN HAVE INFORMATION OUT THERE ABOUT OUR RIGHTS TO THIS SEAT!]"

"(ARE YOU KIDDING? EVERY CHONNY JASH FAN LOVES ME! I'VE GOT FUCKING APOLOGISTS! YOU'VE GOT PEOPLE WHO FRAME YOU AS THE NARRATIVE'S VILLAIN 'COS YOU SUCK THAT BAD!)"

"[YEAH, AND WHO WAS THE ONE WHO SET UP YOUR KEYBOARDS? AND TRANSLATED SHEET MUSIC INTO SOMETHING YOUR SORRY ASS COULD UNDERSTAND? AND–]"

"(SHUT–)"

"[AND FIGURED OUT HOW TO SET UP YOUR STUPID FUCKING AIR-CONDITIONER, BECAUSE–]"

"(I PAY FOR YOUR PAINKILLER PRESCRIPTION!)"

"['(OHHHHH, I CAN'T FOCUS IN THE HEAT! BUT I WEAR BAGGY HOODIES AND TWO-LAYERED PYJAMAS AND)–']"

"(AT LEAST I DON'T EAT MY GOLDFISHES!)"

"[AT LEAST I DON'T PLAY FNAF SONGS ON THE PIANO AT FOUR IN THE GODDAMN MORNING!]"

"(I WROTE THE BEST SONGS FOR OUR ALBUM! WITHOUT ME, OUR STORY OF HOW WE SUFFERED (MOSTLY BECAUSE OF YOU) WOULD'VE NEVER BEEN KNOWN!)"

"[NAME ONE PERSON WHO USES GOOD DAY AS AUDIO!]"

Words torn from mouth and crashing into each timorous ear surrounding the two, pronounced in a very ired, Australian tongue.

Arms furiously stretched and swung and feet stamped to enunciate visible outrage.

"Yeesh, Moon… I always thought our relationship was bad, but it seems like sun and moons across the universe can get so much worse…" Sun shivered, a quick tug on his coarse yet metallic collar, punctuated by a swift glance to his lunar counterpart. "Over where we're from, we have to deal with living in a giant animatronic mall and occasionally the works of cross-dimensional madness. But over there, it seems to me they really need to learn a lesson about getting along!"

"I could take them in a fight with a small dresser tied to my dominant hand." Moon stared, unblinking, body as stiff as a long rock.

The other contestants watched as the words were rocked and tossed in a staggering hatred.

At one point, Heart's wings had enlarged to mimic that of a threatened bird inflating its stance to appear larger; Mind's chest hummed with the overwork of his fans.

Suns and moons from all sorts of solar systems stationed across the multiverse watched in horror.

Two of them were those guys from Nimona, but I don't know dick about shit about Nimona so you gotta use your imagination for that one.

"Right right, you two have your trophy, just…" The celestial staff member disarmingly motioned their hands, gazing down at the two halves. "What are you going to do with your prize money?"

"(Oh, I'm probably gonna use it on an invasive wildflower and a seven hundred AUD life-sized Lopunny plush.)"

"[To pay off my severe prescription zolmitriptan debt that I'm four months behind on because I spent half my yearly salary on a car that I ended up crashing because of a migraine.]"

Happy tiny niche fandom winning against FNaF and Nimona for all who celebrate

Reblogs > Likes

[mikashida]

u seem like u have a lot of wolverine headcanons pls ... 🤲

you've enabled my rambling just know that you did this to yourself. I do also wanna quickly disclaimer I've not read many of the x men let alone wolverine comics so idk how much of this *is* canon or has been mentioned, I was raised by people who thought comics were evil and would "Turn Me Gay" so I only got to watch the movies because obviously movies can't turn you gay (they did)

most of these are kinda depressing the only funny one is the first one

for like General Headcanons that would apply to all variants i 10000% believe the gruff gravelly voice is fake and he just Does That intentionally. I'm not saying his voice isn't deep but the whole like "ruruuuhughgh. im trhe best at what i do but what i do best aint very nice hnrnrghh..." is overplayed. so when he gets nervous or caught off guard his voice raises like at least half an octave. to illustrate what I mean here's a cutscene from the origins game

I also think he tries to drink to slow his healing factor and not necessarily to get buzzed. this is pretty much canon in Logan, but even outside of that canon he's very often been shown to at Least be fascinated by the idea of being mortally wounded if not genuinely suicidal at times and i imagine drinking consistently kinda fucks with that. like let's say he's physically harmed while intoxicated i figure it would probably hurt more/heal slower than it would if he was sober if that makes sense.

to continue with that i think he's tried to kill himself a lot and not in the funny way that deadpool does (like when he shoots himself in the game to get out of a conversation with colossus lmfao) (not saying that deadpool hasnt Genuinely tried to either though) probably doesn't bother anymore but imagine being like fuckin 20 years old and you cant die and you have So Much ptsd and no way to deal with it because its the fucking 1800s

i generally think his ptsd affects him a lot more than the movies and comics let on, which I understand because it's not easy to write when you don't have experience with it. I think it was written really well in deadpool and wolverine though, I am very tired of the perfect victim trope and I like that this logan is actually. kind of a horrible person (I have more headcanons about that but I will stop with this one). he failed his world and that made him the man that saved the universe, but that doesn't cancel out his wrongdoings, and now that he has people in his life again he has a responsibility to do better for those around him

tldr wolverine has issues and i want to make them worse

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WBITA if i told my mom to stop watching kdramas and get off the internet.

I [20F] have been increasingly frustrated with my mother [44F] for a very stupid and hypocritical reason. We're pretty close, with her mostly raising me on my own and all that, but we're very different people and often clash on a lot of things. Despite that, I like hanging out with her and telling her about stuff and vice versa. She also works from home, so we're around each other very often since I don't work rn.

The problem is that for the last month or so she's gotten very into kdramas and youtube summaries of manhwas and all that. I am not trying nor claiming to be a mental healthcare professional, but I am 99% sure she has some type of undiaognosed autism (like once she told me that for most of her life she didnt how to show or feel emotion and she would copy other people arround her and we had an argument about how that is Not The Common Human Experience. Among other things she's a neat freak, blunt, has told me before that she has very bad intrusive thoughts and so on) . This is relevant bc another one of her quirks is that she can become obsessive with something Very Easily. She cannot help herself from bingwatching shows, speedreading through books, She Has To Finish A Task Before Anything Else In This One Specific Order. This is serious, she geniunely gets angry or frustrated about any sort of interruption. Normally this is fine for me to work around, but the reason I am here with this ask is bc it's gotten worse.

Every time I go and try to talk to her, she's got her headphones on, watching a manhwa video (her headphones are bad bc they're work headphones so I can hear what she's listening to). 90% of the time I interrupt her, she does the biggest sigh, fixes me with a dead stare, and acts dimissive. At night, where she would usually hangout in the living room watching idle TV, she now goes straight to her room to watch kdrama's in bed, and her room is where she works from too. The latest development is that she's stopped eating in the livingroom during her work breaks too, which was the one time of day I could hang out with her while she's on the clock. She instead asks me to bring her food to her room and once again, on her personal laptop, watching manhwa summaries.

This, on top of my own personal declining mental health and the fact that sometimes I feel like our roles are reversed (I do any chore she asks me around the house, I cook for the entire house, I am the one sent to do grocery shopping etc while she goes out with her friends) I don't mind this usually, she is my mom, I am unemployed, and she does work a 9 to 5 even if it is from home. But now it stings a lot. The part that makes me think I am the asshole is the fact that the way she is acting right now is the exact same thing she used to scold me on before. "Take off those headphones, stop only hangin out in your room, notice the world around you" and I am still a bit like that. But I feel like I've changed. I finished highschool during the pandemic and quarantine and it fucked me up, not having the strongest friendships irl since I live in a fairly conservative country and I am very outwardly queer and stuff. But I've made an effort to start talking to her, to hang out with her, to help around the house. I was and still half am in the same behavioral pattern she is in right now, but I feel like I've made the effort to not wear headphones so often so I can hear if she calls me, to leave the door to my room open etc. It feels like minor things, ik.

I will also say, while I spend a lot of time online and on my phone/laptop, I do a diversity of things. I draw, I watch youtube videos, I talk and play games with my friends, I read, etc. Things I don't mind pausing. My mom, all she does, is ocasionally scroll through instagram, respond to messages, and watch youtube manhwa summaries. It is all that she does. And she acts like I've come in yelling during one of her meetings every time I interrupt her.

The problem here is, I am afraid that if I bring this up with her, that I will find out the change in behaviour I think I made would be invisible to her and that I would be the biggest hypocrite. And I do not want another yelling match as we have had several in the past on similar subjects, where I think I've changed but she doesn't.

Another one, it seems to make her happy. She laughs, and seems to be geniunely invested. Her new workplace is stressful and the work that she has to do is complicated, and I am glad she's found something to destress her and again. I do the same thing, I hole myself up in my room and spend time alone, why am I now mad at her for doing the exact same thing, right? But she's stopped listening to me. I tell her about things, she dismisses me bc she was in the middle of a video, and then comes calling for me because "Why haven't you done x y z Why is x y z here Why are we missing x y z" despite me having told her. I've suggested to her to watch some longer youtube videos together, which is usually our bonding method, and she'll agree. How that usually went was that I would wait until she called me since its her schedule we work around or that I pop into the living room and her seeing me would remind her. Now, again, she barely leaves her room. She just watches those videos and those shows. Nothing else. Works, sends out the roomba to vaccum every day, either gets her own food or yells for me to do it for her, and thats it. Checks on her plants maybe, does one or two chores that I haven't done. Back to her manhwas.

So , WIBTA if I confronted her about this and told her to stop? It risks another yelling match between us, it is hypocritical of me to do so bc I am the same. I am not gonna pretend I don't also become a hermit and hole myself up in my room. But idk. And it seems to be a geniune interest for her and it makes me happy, even tho in this whole situation I feel abandoned by my mother. Which sounds very stupid and dramatic but. Oh well.

What are these acronyms?

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

This is a personal post about boarding school experience and its later effects in life. It will be under keep reading so anyone can scroll over it if they don't want to read it. It's mostly for me and the need to express the thoughts I've been having and I need an outlet for that.

I've been reading once again about boarding school syndrome all day since this morning. I don't know why I do this to myself. Why I feel the need to go back to all that as if to check if all the damage is still there. Or like a way to pity myself and then to hate it for feeling sorry for myself once again. It's a cycle. I must have remembered something last night before falling asleep because I found myself today at 10 am reading a research paper on it and then looking up testimonials in reddit.

But the thing is, most of the research is done on English boarding schools and as much as the overall experience is similar, there are so many nuances in the differences that exist.

I vividly remember looking out the window and watching my parents get in the car and leave. It was Sunday evening and they had the car parked on a smaller street in downtown where I was left to stay. The next day was the first day of school and I was 11, starting 5th grade.

I read that in cases of children going to boarding school, a lot of them remember in detail the moment the separation took place. And it's true even if it's been almost 20 years since then. That's when my stomach issues began. Of course the cause was emotional stress, but that didn't stop from going to medical clinics weekly to do full check ups when any adult should have realized that I was just homesick. The year after, I began to feel nausea each Monday morning. I used to beg my parents to postpone my return as much as possible so I would only leave home on Monday and arrive an hour before classes would start. For five years I went to school in the afternoon. The nausea became a constant. I would complain on that day, hoping my mother would tell me that I don't have to go to school. But I couldn't understand at that time that my mother was emotionally unavailable and had no idea how to deal with her daughter's real needs.

But I kept going and as years went by, I got used to it and it felt easier by the time I finished high school. When I was already in college, I had forgotten half of my experience and I would gloss over what happened. I would act proud of how fast I had become independent, without needing any help, as if that was a good thing.

Of course that at some point I slowly started to realize that not everything went that well, but either way, that perhaps it was worth the sacrifice if I manage to do something well professionally. Eight years of boarding school meant sacrifices and financial investment. For me to go to the most prestigious middle school (I had to take an English exam for 5th grade, that was unheard of at that time in any other school!), then to the most prestigious high school to receive the best grades which would help to get into the most prestigious university so I can study exactly what I want because by then I found my passion. And I was encouraged. So I worked for it for more than a decade because all the pain had to have been worth it. Yes, parts of life sucks, but perhaps a uni position while I teach and research would compensate for it. But it never did and that entire plan fell to pieces because life doesn't work how I wanted to.

So was all that worth it in the end? Absolutely not.

For years I would think and say that I never suffered bullying in school because my colleagues were nice and for the most part, I had nice experiences. And that's still true. While at the same time forgetting that I also had that other life in boarding school where 17-18 year girls found abuse a form of entertainment.

Bullying is such a common occurence but it gets worse in boarding school because you can't get to any space that feels safe. You can't get home to your own room and to your own parents who might notice something and intervene. In boarding school you have to sleep in the same room and next to the same bed as your abusers. You take showers next to them, hoping that nothing happens. It's living in constant fear.

All my emotional mechanisms have developed during those years, especially between the ages of 11-13. I quickly learned to avoid any type of conflict because that would mess up whatever aparent peace that existed from time to time. I learned that speaking up and telling the adults responsible meant that I was in more danger.

As adults, those who went through the boarding school experience have trouble maintaining relationships. We become self sufficient because we had to. There was no help so we learned to take care of ourselves. Consequently, we don't need other people, especially if we know they will eventually abandon us. Of course attempts are made because it's in our nature. I've lost friendships because rather than making myself heard and to be an active participant in a relationship, I distanced myself. It's easier than to speak because there's a risk that the other person would certainly decide to break the friendship. Avoid conflict at all costs, even it rots everything from the inside. I'm still actively doing this.

When I told my therapist about these experiences (which I don't think I'll talk about in detail here), she used the word trauma. To this day, I have a hard time accepting it. Because deep down I still don't believe that my experience was that bad to be labeled that way. It's not real trauma if nothing really actually "bad" happens.

It's only bad enough that it infiltrated and influenced all aspects of my entire life. From personal relationships to professional. The latter I used to think it was independent and untouchable of all the things I had going on personally. But of course to realize as an adult that the need for perfection, the impostor syndrome, all are a result of never feeling good enough which stems from the initial abandonment.

I find it hard to accept that some decisions taken 20 years ago without me having any real say in it (I was asked and I said yes because my parents know best) and the consequent experiences that I had to go through have negatively influenced my entire life. For many years I never looked at aspects of my life, thinking that something is not well and should be investigated. I was busy in my 20s with other thoughts without realizing the root cause of why I was doing some things. But by the time that decade was over, it's like everything is crashing down. Piece by piece. Every single aspect of my life had been fucked by that thing my therapist calls trauma.

[technicolorfamiliar]

Well, it took me a year, but I watched a billion 50+ Conrad Veidt films. Some good, some great, some so bad that I hope I never have to see them again.

This post is a stand in for the entire second half of this filmic journey -- I'll link the original 5 posts that make up the first part below. But instead of reposting all of my reviews for all of these titles (the original posts for these are on Pillowfort), I'll just share some highlights below the cut.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5

Bleaker and darker than I expected, but that makes sense if it's based on a WWI memoir. What happened to Martha was legitimately awful and hard to watch. Stilted performances aside, I would have also liked a whole separate movie about the lesbian spy aunt. But Commandant Oberaertz... [redacted]. He's so hot, despite the character being absolutely awful and creepy and intimidating. I actually said "wow" out loud about his body shape in that costume. That jacket is fitted within a millimeter of its life. How many other films did Connie use this lower register in? Not many, right? It's too much, TOO MUCH. I think this movie took ten years off my life.

I Was a Spy, 1933

Dir. Victor Saville

⭐3/5

Watched Feb 18, Snowgrouse's masterpost

Connie's performance in this is more sympathetic than it has any right to be. The movie very easily could have been sensationalist garbage, and I'm so glad it was handled with relative care and humanity. I liked his whole vibe, I am not immune to party boy Rasputin's charms; "he's got the kavorca, the lure of the animal!" He looks like he stinks, which in this case may not necessarily be a bad thing. I don't even know what to make of all the cooing and baby talk he does with Alexei, or for that matter Drunk!Rasputin dancing and climbing over furniture to get at his ladies. I wish we got to see more scenes with Rasputin and the royal family, how those relationships formed and affected matters of state. We only really get to know about any of that through dialogue among other court officials. And so the emotional turn at the ending was unexpected. The way he cried out after being shot, I've never heard a sound like that come from a human being. Needless to say I did not feel great when the movie ended, but I liked it way more than I thought I would.

Rasputin, Dämon der Frauen, 1932

Dir. Adolf Trotz

⭐3/5

Watched Mar 23, Archive.org

Almost all the performances in this are pretty excellent. The stripped back, realistic style with handheld, newsreel camerawork really suits these actors and the story. Apparently this is a remake of an English film which is based on a play, and it definitely feels like a play. I'm fascinated by this little movie, it's basically an anti-war film about British soldiers in WWI produced in Germany in the early 30s… how did this even get made?? Messages about the horrors of war aside, the homoerotic undertones (overtones?) alone make this a truly unique piece of storytelling for the time and place it was filmed. And those under/overtones are treated pretty respectfully, none of these men are the butt of a joke, how they are with one another is handled with a naturalism that isn't really seen again until maybe the 1950s. And Connie. The range. Can we talk about Stanhope? He's a gruff, messy drunk, a traumatized, hollowed out husk of a man. When Osbourne says something like "you'll be alright when this is over," NO HE WOULDN'T, HE'D BE WORSE. His relationship with Raleigh is interesting too, clearly they were more than casual friends. I didn't believe for a second that the tension between Stanhope and Raleigh was about the sister/fiancée, it's weak, weak I tell you. It's one of Connie's most underrated performances.

Die andere Seite, 1931

Dir. Heinz Paul

⭐3.75/5

Watched Apr 27, Snowgrouse's masterpost

Everyone in this movie looks like a Rankin Bass stop motion character. The ending was abrupt as fuck, Werner Krauss' Jack the Ripper got a lot less screen time and I wonder if they just tacked that onto the end after they realized they spent too much time on Emil Jannings' and Connie's characters. There's a lot of fondling going on in this movie, there's the guy with the bread in the first part, then Connie going all glassy-eyed caressing his globes. Ivan the Terrible is a certified DIVA in that diaphanous, white robe, even with the hard middle part and scraggly beard. What is he doing with his tongue the whole time, though?? Love that he crashes some random girl's wedding, lets her father get murdered by assassins, kidnaps her AND her husband, and brings them both home to his sex dungeon. Connie is doing the most -- the eyes, the gestures, all the greatest hits from his silent film acting tool box, he's whipping them out for this role.

Das Wachsfigurenkabinett (Waxworks), 1924

Dir. Paul Leni, Leo Birinski

⭐2/5

Watched May 29, Archive.org

I didn't like this movie, I just wanted an excuse to post this screenshot. But it actually is a very silly little movie, with what must have been an enormous budget for costumes and sets, and it has some cute physical comedy. Sadly, Connie's in too little of the film to save it from being obnoxious. I did like the Czar's body double who just wanted to work on his needlepoint, and the Court Spanker who was clearly really into his job. And of course Metternich, that sly dog, that velvet-clad scamp. Between the all the foxy, gap-toothed grinning he does and the way he's going to town on that dialogue, he is as always a pleasure to watch. The English version is on Youtube somewhere, so I may go through that and pick out the time stamps for Connie's scenes because I don't think I could sit through this whole movie again, especially not that stupid fucking "Wien und der Wein" song, jesus christ.

Der Kongress tanzt, 1931

Dir. Erik Charell

⭐2/5

Watched Jun 23, Snowgrouse's masterpost

Apparently this movie was considered a flop, and Connie wasn't super happy with this role and others around this time. I think I must have had that info in the back of my mind somewhere going into this movie, because my expectations were pretty low. So, as usual, I actually wound up liking it more than I thought I would. It's a lot sillier than it has any right to be, but yeah it's ultimately a piece of fluff compared to some of the other heavy-hitting films on this list. I love when Connie has a comedic foil like the Marius character, but it could have been a lot better if the dialogue was snappier and the timing tighter. And Connie's character promises to be this bad bitch at the top of the movie, but all we get is one quick, poorly choreographed sword fight and a whole bunch of nothing after that. There's all this build up, I mean, the character is nicknamed The Black Death, and the movie never really lets the character live up to the name. It's a missed opportunity for sure. That said, the Puffy Shirt with the open collar "ensconced in velvet" (to risk yet more Seinfeld references), jaunty hat, knee-high boots with spurs look is really doing it for me. And THERE ARE PUPPIES. Perhaps the most delightful thing that has ever happened in cinematic history. I couldn’t believe it. Connie picked up the first puppy and said, "You big boy, you!" and I hate him, like full Madeline Kahn Mrs. White "flames… on the side of my face." I hate him so much.

Under the Red Robe, 1937

Dir. Victor Seastrom

⭐2.5/5

Watched Jul 17, Youtube

[jaysbraindump]

Dead Boy Detectives characters as Marianas Trench songs

Edwin - Forget Me Not

If memories are shadows We'd best not waste the light Echoes of aphasia Have haunted you tonight But I will watch you sleeping And make sure you're alright And you will Forget, forget, forget Forget me not You will Forget, forget, forget Forget me not I'm not ready for what's to come Does that make me My mother's selfish son But I wanted you to know I will help you my friend From the lines to amend To the cradle again I'll be your I'll be your I'll be your Forget, forget me not I'll be your I'll be your Forget me not I know you're not quite here But you're not quite gone Sometimes the night gets darkest before the dawn Maybe life's too short But the end is long Yeah, life's too short But the end is long Life's too short But the end is long Yeah, life's too short But the end is so long

Charles - Alibis

Most times it all comes out wrong I don't know the words but I'll hum along There's nothing famillar here anymore To anyone or anything left to feel alive And I still taste that sickness And it makes me crazy without it at best But I'm in the same place I used to be But I'm trying harder not to be This is not the man I hoped to be And I'm just trying to stop the bleeding I don't know how to word it I just started to deserve it And all my, all my faces are alibis And me, I'm half the man I wanted to be So what am I? What am I? So what am I? And all my, all my faces are alibis This is not the man I hoped to be And I'm just trying to stop the bleeding I don't know how the words go I just started not to say no Don't want it, don't get it I know you won't regret it Don't surface, don't surface And I feel so damn worthless Another day is gone and all my faces are alibis All my faces are alibis

Crystal - Perfect

Please sing to me, I can see you open up to breathe. Fast words make it easier on me, If the point's to never disappoint you, Somebody's got to tell me what to do. Just wish you could've seen me When it used to come so easy. I like to say that it's easy to stay But it's not for me, 'Cause I'm barely here at all. Slow down now, the secret's out. And I swear now everything is perfect. What you want, what you need has been killing me. Try to be everything that you want me to be. I'll say yes, I'll undress, I'll do more for less. Now I'll change everything 'til it's perfect again. Coming down, coming around, Giving a frown to the sound when I hit ground. I hate the way that I say I should stay When I know that I don't give a fuck about it anyway. I shake hands, I shoot smiles all around, As I sell my body by the pound. Sign my name on the dotted line For would-be fate, do not resuscitate.

Niko - Glimmer

Thirst got the best of us Hurt took the rest of us But tell me what does it mean if We could never leave it, we can never leave it now You've changed but it's not enough And doubt is insidious Creeps up on you softly I can't' get it off me, I can't get it off me now Can we forgive and forget, can we forgive and forget Can we forgive and forget, and can we lay to rest Can we catch a breath, can we catch a breath I throw my head back, heart under attack Straight through the chest, like a thunderclap You can burn too bright, you can burn too bright to see With all the lights out, the shadow of a doubt It's funny what you find, when you go without So keep the lights down low, keep the lights down low to see Oh, I see A glimmer, glimmer

Jenny - Alive Again

I felt it turn to come and go Don't worry no one ever knows I don't know why it just won't die It breaks me in to stay alive I know it hurt a lot like you C'mon I know that you felt it too It hurts the same and that's OK I never liked him anyway I know, I know,I know,I... It seems so long since I've been gone I got so used to just hanging on I feel so wrong I don't belong I got so used to just hanging on I'm used to starving out instead It's easier than faking it Sometimes it hurts but That's no worse than all those times I guess it works I know they walked away with a piece of me The more I know that I won't go The more I bruise from laying low I know I know I know

Monty - Your Ghost

Come to me in my sleep Somewhere before the dawn My haunted heart is uneasy Evermore ever drawn, ever drawn, yeah It's like every time you vanish somehow you're still here You never seem to manage just to disappear And everything I see comes crashing down on me But the ghost of you is always near I can't get myself together I've been running for forever from your ghost, ghost And I never need to wonder if I'll ever be from underneath your ghost, ghost You are just enough out of reach Just where I can see I won't give up your ghost I can leave this place forever But I know I'll never sever from your ghost From your ghost (ghost, forever, forever, ghost)

The Cat King - Masterpiece Theater II

They keep mostly to themselves Hush now they'll hurt you till your heart melts They know you're lonely And they will only break your heart And this masterpiece will tear you apart I'll burn out and slip away And this just a part I portray You're beautiful, Can I hide in you and stay here? First it comes alive, creeping quiet And this is just a part I portray You're beautiful, can I hide in you And stay here all night? Well, oh I will pull away I portray I'll wreck this if I have to Tell me what good would that do? I'll wreck this if I have to

[palepinkgoat]

tag game Wednesday Thursday!

thank you for tags and mentions @gallawitchxx @thepupperino @wehangout @blue-disco-lights @gardenerian @deedala @energievie and @jrooc !!! I love you all so much.

how did you get into the fandom? Girl, let's get in a Time Machine to 2013.

I had just had a massive injury that left me unable to walk or leave my bed for months. In this time, I was watching YouTube a lot. YouTube knows me well, so one night said "oh, this is gay, you will like it." The clip was the van kiss. Like, the first kiss. It piqued my interest and soon I'm in a YouTube wormhole. Season 3 had finished so there were some newer uploads. I loving the morning scenes with the Gallaghers too, and once I kind of pieced it all together I went on amazon and bought the first 3 season digitally. There I was, obsessed and bed bound. After a little googling I found Tumblr around Christmas, and lurked until season 4 started. Then I started poking my head out a bit and reblogged some stuff. But I wasn't really fully "in" until I started writing fics in 2014. Then I got more active and after writing a series called Four Eight, more people learned who I was (via a post by a super "popular" and now deactivated Tumblr account). Then I was in. sidenote: Eventually I did physical therapy around the time the club kiss aired (being there for that in real time?? Guys, I'm still screaming) and I'd watch that over and over as I iced my weak leg and took half a prescribed Percocet. The club kiss was better than the Percocet.

how long have you been here? So technically I guess I've had Tumblr 10 years. In December it will be 11. HOWEVER I was not active for several years in between like season 7ish until after the series ended, so I guess I should subtract. But that gets too be too much math.

what’s the first fandom channel you found? (Youtube, Reddit, Tumblr, Insta, Twitter, FB, other?) Youtube at first since that's how I found them. I was also really into watch fan video edits and watched them OBSESSIVELY.

what’s your favourite now? For fandom, Tumblr! Nothing quite like it. I'm glad to be back.

which mutual have you known the longest in the fandom? Oh my gosh. @captainjowl, @wehangout and @the-rat-wins are the ones who come to mind but I'm sorry if I'm overlooking some. So many people left!

which tumblerino’s did you have your first fandom crush(es) on and wanted to get to know? I remember really loving @captainjowl and being so glad when we got to be friends. Then because I almost have a Tumblr Season 2 life, I was really impressed by @heymacy and she just JUMPED off the screen. I wanted to be friends so I sent a message about chapell roan and now we talk ALL THE TIME. I've met so many newer to me people and I am so glad I know so many cool people.

first Gallavich fan fic you read (or that blew you away that you remember) I wish I remembered the first fic I read!! Sexual Harassment in the Workplace was posted around the time I started writing fic and of course that's amazing. I know works by anythingbutgrief were some of the first too. Beautiful.

first fan art that blew your mind? @steorie blows my mind every time. That's the first person I remember just losing it over. But there are so many incredible artists!!

fanfic trope that you were sure wasn’t for you but now you low key (or high key) love? a/b/o! But I mostly was like "what the fuck is this about?" And then got on board pretty fast.

What surprised you most about this fandom? the level of talent is absolutely wild.

moment in the show (or YT vids if you’re one of those) that you fell in hyperfixation with Gallavich? the first one was probably s3 "not everybody gets to blurt out how they fucking feel every minute!" because i was like, OHHH OH THIS IS GONNA HURT ME & then it just kept getting worse.... @gallawitchxx just said it best BUT! I have a tattoo that says "sorry I'm late" so I guess you could say I'm into that one too.

Ian or Mickey? Ian is my baby, my friend. my familiar. I adore them both and it's hard to choose, but I loved him right away and never quit.

Which Gallagher or Milkovich are you? I'm honestly a lot like Ian. But maybe if I swung Milkovich I'd be Sandy.

[velvetvexations]

Depression, ideation, fairly heavy, like, I'm genuinely not sure why I'm posting this because I'm weirdly jittery about people reading it and yet here it is.

I may or may not respond to everything that's said about this, if at all.

I've always had a really hard time with conceptualizing my life in a year or two because of politics and not being to make my life materially better to at least try and cope with that by being with the people I love doing things together and having experiences instead of being a hikikomori NEET who's badly touched starved because literally no one I care about is anywhere near me and I have no ability to even do anything on my own lacking money and the ability to drive

I cannot currently picture my life after this weekend.

Worst of all I can't imagine actually going through with harming myself because I am ultimately very cowardly so I feel like either option is completely out of the question, like, both are impossibilities because I lack confidence in my conviction to solve the issue in that way but being around for a second Trump presidency which will have ripple affects for generations is also simply existentially incompatible with me.

I can't think of any positive affirmation about there always being hope and things to be happy that would help. I may never share even a day with my loved ones. I haven't left the house in over a year despite how desperately I want to. The last time I was, it was to get a recommendation for HRT that ended up fizzling because of Sarah fucking Huckabee cutting my aid, which is also why I've been half-starved every day. The time before that was do sign some shit at the bank, and before that, it was my mother's funeral, an era which was a fucking highlight because life with her was immeasurably worse than it is now but in the two or three years since I've stagnated bad and I don't see how I can get out of it because my aunt is not enthusiastic about letting me out of the guardianship because there are some adult things I can't do on my own so I just need to be treated like the family's pet autist forever. I can't even cast a completely useless dark red state vote because of the barriers making it so exhausting to coordinate when I need so much help with that too, so I'm a hypocrite who's going to go down as not having voted in the 2024 election. Like, I don't even have a photo ID card, which is a constant issue in a variety of situations along with not having cell phone.

And then I somehow need to exist...like that...while fascism gradually makes everything worse. But I won't even be sure that's the case until Sunday, so I feel like I'm watching someone hope they're about to cut the right wire.

I don't know how to deal with any of that, I can't begin to conceive what dealing with any of that even looks like.

[hard-boiled-criminal]

A Witch Adrift

Chapter 2 - You're not a Wizard, Harry

< Ch 1 | Ch 3 >

Masterlist

Ao3 Mirror

“Consider it tough love. Now, just what is going on here?” A rather unique voice spoke over the cat’s complaints, but they were out of your line of sight. “And just what are you doing up there? I’ve been looking all over the place for you, and I find you playing games with your familiar, and a poorly trained one at that!”

“...What?” You mutter, at a loss for words. ‘First of all,’ you think, ‘shouldn’t your first reaction be of worry since there’s a person hanging onto a banister for dear life, and maybe, oh, I don’t know, offer to help?!’

“Hah! As if I’d serve some lowly human!” The cat yelled, accompanied by the sounds of it struggling. “Now, lemme go!”

“Yes, yes. Rebellious familiars always say that. Do be quiet for a bit, won't you?” The other voice speaks once more, as the cat goes quiet, only muffled yells of protest to be heard from it. “Dear me. Of all the students I've dealt with, you're the first with temerity enough to open their own gate and step out of it; Does the very notion of patience elude you?”

‘Is he talking about me? What does he mean by student?’

“No matter. Your orientation has already begun. Hurry up and get down so we may return to the Mirror Chamber,” He says, sighing with a hint of annoyance.

“Uh, I would if I could, man. I’m stuck,” You say matter-of-factly. You weren’t about to risk the three-meter drop, not with all the floating books and evil cords that could potentially mess up your landing and, worse case scenario, get you killed.

“If you were going to get stuck, why would you bother to get up there in the first place?” The man asks, seemingly dumbfounded at the prospect of how stupid he thought you were. You opened your mouth to answer but were cut off by him speaking again. “Very well, I shall help you, for I am gracious.”

The sudden feeling of weightlessness startles you and an invisible force starts to pull you away from the mezzanine. You squeak from surprise and tighten your grasp out of instinct.

“Goodness, I can’t get you down if you don’t let go. Now, come on, I won’t drop you.”

You take a moment to weigh the pros and cons of trusting him; It was either trust him to get you down safely or wait until your grip fails you and fall. You squeeze your eyes shut and let go, anticipating your plummet, but no such thing happens. Opening your eyes, you watch in awe as you slowly float to the ground. An “Ahem” from behind you breaks you out of your stupor, and you realize you’ve been staring bug-eyed at the floor where you had just landed for a good few seconds, much longer than what was seemingly acceptable to the magic man you still have not seen. You turn around to see a man in a rather flamboyant raven-themed ensemble, complete with a bird-like mask that covers the upper half of his face, leaving only two unsettling, glowing yellow orbs, presumably his eyes, to stand out against the black mask.

‘Is he wearing reflective contacts? Are those even a thing?’

“Now then, we must not waste any more time; Let us be off,” with a swish of his feathered overcoat, he spins around, heading towards the door of the library, the still-struggling cat wrapped in a… whip? What? Does this count as animal cruelty?

Seemingly not bothered by the cat, the man opened the door and looked back at you, waiting for you to join him. With a small stumble you hope he didn’t notice, you quickly catch up with him and leave the library, hearing the door shut behind the two of you with a small thud and click. He leads you back the way you came through, towards the courtyard, but not through it.

“Um, excuse me, Mr…?”

“I am Dire Crowley, the Headmage of the esteemed Night Raven College,” he says, and you think you see him puff out his chest a bit in pride.

“Night Raven…?” You mutter but decide you can ask about that later. “Um, Mr. Crowley, sir, could you give me a moment to grab my shoes from the courtyard?”

“Your shoes from the– why are your shoes in the courtyard?” He looks at you, quite bewildered, if his tone of voice is to be believed. It’s much harder to get a grasp on his emotions when his only telling feature is his mouth.

“...Self defense?” 

“...I see… I suppose we’ll cut through the courtyard then. We can not afford to be late any more than we already are, so we’ll talk about whatever happened with you and your familiar after the orientation.” He turned on his foot and walked into the courtyard, his pace quickening by a margin.

“But I don’t have…a familiar…” You try to speak up, but he has already walked out of earshot of your quiet voice. You sigh and follow behind him. “If I may ask,” you say as you catch up to him, “where exactly are we?” He looks at you, stunned for a moment as you pick up your first shoe near the middle of the courtyard. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You meekly ask, starting to worry that you may have said something wrong.

“Do you…hmm. It seems the timespace teleportation must have addled your memories…” He brings his hand up to his chin, seemingly thinking about something. “Well, these things happen, I suppose.I shall explain it to you while we walk. Truly, my magnanimity is boundless.”

“Wha– tumespace what?”

He clears his throat, ignoring you (he seems to like doing that), and speaks in a practiced tone, “This is Night Raven College, of which I am the Headmage of, having been entrusted with its care by the chairman.” You two walk in the direction where you had initially run from, and you grab your other shoe as you near the edge of the courtyard. “It is an institution for students the world over who demonstrate a rare aptitude for magic. It is the most prestigious academy of its sort in all of Twisted Wonderland.” 

He pauses when you reach the outer hallway where the cat had chased you, black scorch marks decorating the floor. Having come to a stop, you look up at him in confusion. He silently gestures to your shoes, still held in your hands. With a small “Ah,” of realization, you clumsily put your shoes back on in a haste. 

“Magic, huh?” You say quietly. “Guess that’s how you got me down.”

“Well, of course! What else could it have been?” Ah. It seems he thinks you’re kind of if not completely stupid… Or maybe he thinks you’re a child? It seems magic is common sense to him, which would explain why he’s acting like you’re dumb. You know nothing about this magic he uses.

You shrug and make a noncommittal sound to say you didn’t know. “Psychic powers?” You offer, but he says nothing… It seems he thinks your legitimate question was a joke– one in very poor taste at that. Well, that’s what you infer when his frown deepens slightly. “But …why am I here?”

His expression didn’t change. Instead, as soon as you stood up, he continued to walk and began to speak again, “Only those who the Dark Mirror perceives as having a talent for magic are admitted to the college. Those who are selected are summoned to the campus through those "gates," which can appear anywhere. A black carriage bearing one such gate should have come to meet you.”

‘Does this birdman Crowley have a problem with me? Is he toying with me? It feels like he’s treating me like a child, what with his suspiciously selective hearing and stupid comments. Well, if I wanna know what’s going on, I guess I’ll have to put up with it.’ You rush to catch up with him and match his longer strides. “So, what do you mean by “gate?” I don’t remember seeing anything like a gate…” You trail off. ‘Wait, could he be referring to the pentacle I drew on the floor? Is he saying I opened a gate to hell and I got dragged in instead of me summoning someone out? Oooooh, no. Oh, shit. I think we done fucked up, (y/n).’

“You woke up inside of a coffin-shaped gate, did you not?”

“Wait, you mean I was summoned through a coffin?!”

“A coffin-shaped gate, to be precise, but yes.”

‘So, it wasn’t my summoning circle? Well, there goes that idea.’

The two of you, three if you count the bound cat, reached a set of ornate doors. The same doors to the room you woke up in. The doors to the room which could have been your final resting place, had you not escaped.

“Now, let us attend to your orientation.” With that, Crowley grabbed both door handles and started to pull them open.

“...had a tummy ache?” You just barely heard a bright voice saying something when Crowley suddenly swung the doors open all the way in a split second.

“I most certainly did not!”

‘...He totally used magic to swing those heavy doors open so quickly. If he was trying to make a grand entrance, he’s not doing a good job; it feels more like a dramatic entrance in a school play.’

“Ah, speak of the devil,” a clear, young voice spoke this time.

“If you must know, I was searching for the new student who'd failed to show up for orientation,” Crowley then stepped aside and ushered you forward in front of him. Now that he was no longer blocking your view, you could see the state of the once burning room. 

People.

So many people. Too many people. You could feel the eyes of dozens, perhaps even hundreds, of eyes all turn to focus on you. Your chest tightens. You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, its rhythm steadily accelerating. Just when your panic had finally begun to dissipate, your anxiety caused it to rear its ugly head once again.

“You are the only one who has yet to be assigned a dorm,” Crowley spoke to you, now, much quieter compared to his grand entrance. “Step up to the Dark Mirror, and be quick about it. I'll watch your tanuki.*”

You don’t want to. There’s too many people, their stares kindling your anxiety. It’s getting harder to breathe. You don’t want to step forward. You know the longer you stall, the more intense their stares will get, wondering what’s wrong with you, why you can’t just take a step forward. It feels like their stares are becoming glares, burning into your skin, hotter than the blue flames you ran through not even an hour earlier. 

What felt like forever was only a few seconds of pause, enough time for Crowley to notice you weren’t stepping forward. He gently placed a palm on your back and gave you a nudge forward. Maybe it was because you weren’t expecting it, but it made you stumble forward a few steps. 

You have no choice but to walk forward.

Stiffly, you walk, eyes trained on the floor. There’s too many eyes. You can’t look at them. So you focus on your feet. You take slow, deliberate steps. You’ve stumbled enough today; tripping over nothing in front of so many people might just make you cry. You take a quick glance up to see how much farther it is to the mirror. You’re halfway. It’s silent. At least, you think it’s silent. The roaring of your blood pumping through your ears makes it hard to hear anything else. The sound of your anxiety has never been a comfort before, but there’s a first for everything. Maybe you should be grateful you can’t hear any of their deprecating whispers about you. You no doubt look a mess with what you’ve been through today. 

You can feel yourself shaking by the time you arrive at the mirror. You clench your hands into the fabric of your robe–you still don’t know who changed your clothes and why– to try to steady yourself. The mirror is dark, save for the swirls of green smoke reflected on its surface. But you’re not there. There’s no smoke in the room and you don’t see yourself in the mirror. This mirror isn’t a mirror. Or you’ve turned into a vampire, but you’ve felt no semblance of sanguine hunger. In the mirror, a white mask fades in from the dark until it becomes completely opaque. It is a full-face mask with defined features, and seems to be wearing a lacy, black masquerade mask.

Its lips move. “State your name.”

A booming voice fills the silent room. Perhaps it is a being of great power. Or perhaps your anxiety attack is causing its voice to sound so commanding and feel so heavy. The silence that lingers after it had spoken almost feels even louder. It’s waiting for you.

“(Y-Y/n). (Y/n) (L/n),” you stutter out your name.

“The nature of your soul is…” it pauses for dramatic effect. After a few seconds, you realize it did not pause for dramatic effect. Something is wrong. Its face scrunches in a way that reminds you of when you smell something familiar but can’t recall just what it is. A moment too long later, it speaks. “It is…unclear to me.”

“What did you just say?” Crowley sounds astounded in a way that, for once, is from pure shock. Like victorian-lady-in-a-book-about-to-faint shock.

“I sense no magical power from this one.” The mirror continues to speak. If it is bothered by Crowley’s outburst, it doesn’t show it. “Soundless. Colorless. Shapeless. Utterly vacant. Therefore, no dorm would be appropriate.”

‘Rude. I can do magick. Maybe not your psychic-type or fire-type magic, but still.’

The stares that were focused on you intensify and cause you to stiffen. The pairs of eyes from all the bored onlookers who initially weren’t paying attention to you now lock on to your frozen form. If everyone’s eyes weren’t on you before, they definitely were now. Their hushed murmurs grow in number across the room, so much so they morph into wordless noises. And you know they’re all talking about you.

“Are you suggesting that the black carriage went to receive a person who cannot even use magic?” Crowley asks, still unable to believe the situation at hand. “But that is absurd! The student selection process has not erred once in its century of existence! How could this have happened?”

“Mmmph! Nnnrgggh,” The cat manages to struggle out of its bindings and gasps for a breath of air. “ME! Let ME have this student's seat!”

“Not so fast, you hyperactive tanuki!” Crowley reaches out in an attempt to recapture the cat, but misses.

“Unlike that human, I can actually use magic! So let me be a student here! Look, I'll show you! My spells're the cat's meow!” The cat rears back and a small blue sphere starts to form in its mouth.

“Everyone, get down!” A redhead boy shouts, his voice you recognize being the one with the clear voice you heard after you and Crowley entered the mirror chamber.

“Myaaahhh!” The cat lets out an uncontrolled stream of blue flames from its mouth, lighting the room on fire, much like how it was before you escaped.

“AHHHHH! HELP! I'm on fire over here!” Another voice you vaguely recall came from a tan, white-haired boy, who didn’t seem to know about ‘stop drop and roll.’

“Someone, catch that blasted animal before it sets the entire school ablaze!” Crowley commands. Seems like he’s not planning to help with this.

‘You know what. Fuck this. I’ve had enough of dealing with this cat.’ You ungracefully sit yourself on the ground next to the fountain below the floating mirror. ‘If its flames reach me, I can just douse off with this… dubious green liquid… I hope it doesn’t come to that.’

Now that you’ve finally taken a moment to rest and the people’s attention is no longer on you, the pain from injuries you forgot about and didn’t even know you had flares up. You can’t tell if the vague nausea is from the massive bruise no doubt forming across your stomach or your anxiety attack. Your legs and feet sting, the pain ebbing and flowing sporadically. Your shoulders are sore, one more than the other, but thankfully not dislocated.

A few of the people wearing matching robes, but with their hoods down, start to argue among themselves, a floating tablet included in their argument. Now that you’ve taken a moment, everyone in the room, save for the cat and Crowley, are wearing the same exact clothes. Including you.

‘...Is this some kind of cult initiation? But he said this was a college and these were students, so… a cult-based school orientation?’

You watch as the redhead and a different white-haired boy with glasses(his hair had a slight purple tint compared to the other white-haired boy) chase the cat, who is still spewing flames, around the room, in an attempt to catch it. It’s kind of comical though. So you lean back on your hands–you cringe a bit, your skin a bit raw from holding onto and slipping down the banister–and watch the spell-slinging chase scene happening across the room. It isn’t until after the cat manages to set fire to many more things, and probably some people too, when the redhead loses his temper.

“Off with your Head!” The redhead waves a fairly short wand and a heart-shaped collar materializes out of thin air and locks itself around the cat’s neck.

“MYAH?!” The Cat shouts in surprise as the weight of the metal collar forces its head down. A dull clank resounds as the point of the collar hits the hard floor. “What are you doing?!”

The redhead speaks to the cat, but he’s facing away from you and too far away for you to hear what. The cat, on the other hand, has no trouble yelling at a volume that easily carries its words across the room. “I ain't a cat or a tanuki! Don't try to collar me! I'll burn it right off! …Huh? Wh-what gives? My fire ain't workin'!” A response from Red, as you’ve decided to call him, seems to anger the cat more. “M-meoWHAT?! I ain't nobody's pet-NOTHING!” Red speaks again, saying something that seems to cause the glasses guy to laugh, but it sounds a bit fake. You would know a customer service tone anywhere as a fellow sufferer.

Movement from your peripheral catches your attention, and you watch as Crowley marches up to you. “(Y/n)-san**” His clear anger makes you flinch. “Was I not clear that you are expected to take responsibility for your familiar? You must discipline your familiar properly!”

“But…that’s not my familiar,” you explain to him. Seems he really didn’t hear you earlier. “I don’t even have a familiar in the first place.”

“It’s not? Oh…Um,” Crowley clears his throat, a bit flustered having been mistaken. “Then I shall have it expelled from campus. I shall even spare it from being served as dinner. My, but I am kind. ...Someone take this away, please.” Crowley dismissively waves his hand in a ‘shoo’ motion. One of the hooded figures grabs the cat and heads to the doors.

“Nooooo! Let me gooooo!” The cat screams in protest, desperately trying to wiggle out of their hold, but to no avail. “You fools better remember my name!” It yells out one last time as the person opens and steps through the doors. “Cause I'm gonna go down in the annals of magic history! Just you wait!” The heavy door shuts with a thud, and you can now only hear muffled shouts from the other side.

‘This might be considered animal cruelty, but it was intelligent and should therefore be held accountable for its crimes. Fuck you.’ You might be biased though, considering it did light you on fire and attempt to kill you.

It’s much quieter in the room now, the source of the chaos having been removed. The flames have died out, maybe because of whatever the cat said about not being able to use magic? Without the cat–or tanuki? –around, you could hear what the others in the room were saying without them yelling.

“Well, that was quite the unexpected fracas. I hereby declare that orientation has concluded. Housewardens, please escort your students back to the dorms,” Crowlet announces with a clap. “...Hm? Come to think of it, I don't see Housewarden Draconia of House Diasomnia anywhere.”

“And that surprises you? Dude's a total recluse,” a guy with lion ears says with a bored tone.

“Wait a sec... Did anyone even invite him?” The tan boy who was screaming earlier asked.

“If you're that worried about him missing out, maybe you should have told him yourself,” a guy with very nice hair said.

“Maybe, but I don't know him too well either…” The tan boy replied, a bit sheepish.

A few boys near you mumbled to each other. “Draconia... Like, Malleus Draconia? THAT Draconia?”

“So it's true? He really does go to school here?”

“Yikes.”

‘...I don’t know what’s going on anymore; I still don’t really know where I am. And Draconia? What kind of chuuni*** name is that?”

“Ah. Just as I'd expected,” a rather short boy spoke this time, his voice not matching his cute appearance(and very short height) at all. “I figured I'd come down and see for myself whether Malleus had made an appearance. “But once again, he was evidently not informed that his presence was required at an official ceremony.”

“You have my sincerest apologies,” The boy with glasses spoke this time. “I assure you, this oversight was in no way intended as a snub.”

‘Is this, like, some Victorian era political bullshit? Where they subtly insult each other disguised with polite words?’

“I mean, you must admit, he's not exactly the easiest person to strike up a conversation with,” Red said.

‘...Red, my mans, you gotta read the room. You can’t just–ignore the obvious over-politeness. You gotta roll with it.’

“No matter. All who were assigned to House Diasomnia, follow me. I just hope he doesn't sulk about this,” the deep-voiced boy said, muttering the last sentence.

You watch as the colorful characters–plus a floating tablet–who stole the spotlight for most of the event left the room, the mass of hooded figures following after them until it was only you and Crowley left.

“Well, (y/n)-san. This is a most unfortunate turn of events. I'm afraid that you will not be attending Night Raven College after all. Surely you realize that I cannot very well admit a student with no magical ability to my academy.”

‘Don’t worry man, I didn’t wanna join your cult in the first place. I need to get back home in case that demon is waiting for me.’

“But worry not. The Dark Mirror will see you safely home,” Crowley held out a hand for you to grab, helping you to your feet–the first polite thing he’s done for you today. Wow, who’d’ve thought. Local bird-man is actually capable of kindness without bragging about it. Or is it considered him making vaguely-veiled threats, because if it were anyone else saying his ‘for I am kind’ lines, it would definitely sound like a threat. “Now, step into the gate, and visualize the place from whence you came.”

You watched Crowley use the same magic he had used on you earlier to bring forth one of the coffins. Hesitant, you slowly stepped inside and closed your eyes, visualizing your comfy bed, its covers just waiting for you to cocoon yourself with them.

“O Dark Mirror! Return this soul to where it belongs!”

A moment passes. Nothing. You’re getting some serious deja vu vibes.

Crowley clears his throat. “L-let us, er...try this again. O Dark Mirror! Return this soul—”

“There is no such place,” the mirror interrupts him.

“What?”

‘What.’

“There is no place in this world where this soul belongs. None.”

‘Um, what the fuck?’

“How can that be? My, but today is a veritable cavalcade of impossible phenomena!”

‘Dude, why are you using fancy talk? Hell, how are you calm enough to use fancy vocabulary? Now’s not the time for this!’

The mirror didn’t answer him.

“This has never happened throughout my long tenure. I must confess that I am at something of a loss,” Crowley turned to face you, who was still inside a coffin. “Tell me: From what land do you hail?”

‘I’ve never heard of Twisted Wonderland before, so let’s start broad,’ you decide. “Earth.”

Fully expecting him to give you a ‘well, no shit,’ look, you grew unsettled when he didn’t lose his serious demeanor.

“...You mean to say you came from the ground?”

“What? No, I mean Earth, you know, the name, not the dirt?” ‘The one I hope to dear god is the one I am on now.

“I'm afraid I am not familiar with such a place.”

“...Fuck.”

Crowley gave you a silent look as if to admonish you for your language, but seemed to let it pass considering the current situation. “I am intimately acquainted with the origins of every student who has ever come here, and yet... This mysterious homeland of yours eludes me. Let us go to the library and look it up, shall we?”

You’re in deeper shit than you thought.

“Just as I'd suspected. Nothing.”

The two of you now found yourselves back in the library where you’d first met. Whether these or the previous circumstances were more favorable was still up for debate.

“Not only is your homeland not listed on any map from any point in history.

Now, are you QUITE sure that you come from such a place? That wasn't some sort of lie, or jape? Because if so, the only explanation is that you've come from another planet far, far away. Or perhaps you were summoned here from another dimension?”

“I’m sure,” you respond plainly, if not a little shaken. “And it’s definitely at least a different planet.”

“Oh, what makes you so sure?”

“Earth is the name of my planet, and you didn’t recognize it as a name.”

“...Why would you introduce your home as your planet?”

“...I panicked.” A lie.

“Well, no matter. Now, show me everything that you brought here with you.

Do you have some form of identification, a driver's license perhaps? Or even a...shoe?” It seems he associates you with shoes now, since you told him about your choice of weapon against the cat. “You do seem a tad bit...empty-handed.”

“I don’t think I have anything. I don’t even have my clothes.”

“Well, this is quite the predicament.”

“Yeah. And speaking of–”

“I cannot have someone with no aptitude for magic bumbling about my magic academy,” he cut you off with a rather rude comment. “And yet, as an educator, I am loath to expel a young person without a cent to their name, or any ability to contact someone they know. Truly, my grace is boundless.”

‘Wow, this guy is super conceited… Now that I think about it, what if he doesn’t think I’m dumb? Maybe he’s just got a superiority complex.’

Crowley brought his hand to his chin and hummed in thought. “Hmmmmm... Ah! There is a vacant building on this campus,” he began to explain. “It was, in fact, used as a dorm a long time ago. With a proper cleaning, it should be habitable enough.”

‘“Habitable” is an odd choice… Is he saying the place currently is not habitable? I’ve got a bad feeling about this.’

“Out of the profound kindness of my heart, I will allow you to live there for the time being. In the meantime, we will investigate other ways to send you home.” He turned away to give a self-praising soliloquy, “Dear me, but I am a gracious man indeed! A model educator, one might say.”

‘...I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone purposely pause a conversation to give a soliloquy. Especially not one where they just compliment themselves…I think I can safely say I would only like this birdman if he was a character and not an actual person.’

“Well then,” he looked back to you, “I shall take you to your dorm straight away. It is an older building, but it has plenty of...character, one might say.”

“Character?”

“Precisely. Come along now, time waits for no one.”

He leads you back out of the library, this time taking you down a few unfamiliar hallways covered in paintings, whose eyes you swear were following you, and lit with tall candelabras. The candle flames were the same green as the liquid in the fountain and cast an eerie glow, the color reminiscent of poison. After a few minutes of travel, you ended up in a large, open area; the best way you could think of to describe it was as a lobby. Crowley walked up to a set of grand double doors at the center of the opposite walls. In the dark it was hard to make out, but they almost looked as if they were made of stone.

‘No, they couldn’t be. Who would be stupid enough to make doors made of stone?’

With the flick of a wrist, Crowley opened the doors with, once again, magic. The sudden chill from the cool wind blowing in sent a small shiver down your spine. You crossed your arms for some extra warmth, but you couldn’t tell if it helped or not.

“Make sure you don’t wander off,” Crowley gave you a pointed look, as if you were about to go missing and he’d have to search for you again. “It’s just this way; follow me.” Leaving no room to argue, he began to walk down the path with you in tow.

His tall height already gave him longer legs so his stride was longer than yours, however it seemed he was in a hurry tonight. With him speed walking, you almost had to jog in order to keep pace with him.

‘Stupid tall people with their stupid long legs and stupid fast pace. I should've expected this from Birdman Crowley… Yeah, the more I get to know him the less I like him.’

After a while of following Crowley down the stone roads in the chilly night, he led you up a small hill towards a fenced in building that could almost be called a small manor. Or, it at least was a manor. The metal fence was horrendously crooked in every which way: the fence itself was laid out in a way where it curved back and forth, the pointed tips were bent back and forth, the bars were bent terribly; it was in horrible shape, as if someone ran a truck into every part of the fence. Although the fencing was bad enough, it didn’t compare to the building itself. As Crowley guided you up the stairs towards its door, you could do nothing but stare in awe.

‘This place looks haunted as fuck.’

The building looked like it was on its last legs. All the windows were boarded up, covering what were more than likely broken parts of the glass panes. The side paneling was coming off in places, there were more shingles missing than you were comfortable with, and the roof seemed to dip unnaturally in places, probably from prolonged water damage.

“This… this is where I’ll be staying?” You ask in disbelief.

“Isn't it delightful? Right, scoot inside now. There you go,” he shooed you inside, past the door whose rusted hinges squealed when opened.

‘...This can’t be legal… This is a lawsuit waiting to happen. I should sue… But legal practices might be different here… Fuck man, there’s really nothing I can do, is there?’

“This should keep the elements at bay for the time being,” Crowley looked proud of himself. “Now, I should return to my research. Do try to find some way to keep yourself busy. But don't let me catch you wandering the campus! Ta!”

“Wha–huh? No, wait a min–aaaand he’s gone,” you called after him but he had already ditched you, the squeal of the door grating on your ears as it magically closed behind him. “Man, this place is a mess. Does OSHA not exist here? Like, a fantasy OSHA? FOSHA? Haaah, this place is probably infested with several different types of mold. I’m not looking forward to discovering them…”

‘Wait, that reminds me, if I’m not from here, that means I’m probably super susceptible to so many new diseases. Do they have vaccines here? Because I’m probably gonna need all of them. If they’re safe. What if their water carries bacteria that’s deadly to me? Or what if all their food is deadly to me too? Oh, no, this situation is a whole lot worse now that I’ve had time to think.’

Stuck in your nervous inner ramblings, you didn’t notice you had begun to pace the room, kicking up the dust.

‘I mean, these people definitely look human, or at least human with animal ears like that one guy, but for all I know they could be completely different biologically.’

 It wasn’t until a frighteningly loud boom of thunder that your concentration broke, and made you squeak in surprise in the process, that you noticed it had begun to rain outside. It didn’t take long for the occasional water droplets to fall from the ceiling. 

‘This could be a problem. As the storm goes on, the droplets will probably increase dramatically. I should go find some buckets or pots.’

You were about to go searching the dark building for a supply closet or the kitchen when you heard a familiar voice.

 “GWAH! It's pouring out there!”

*Using tanuki instead of weasel because Grim doesn’t look like a weasel, and it makes more sense in the context of tanuki in Japanese mythology.

**Characters who are polite will refer to others with Japanese honorifics instead of English ones. It’s more gender neutral and flows better than using Mx. in my opinion, which will be more relevant in the future.

****Chuuni–short for chuunibyou.’ 

A/N: I spent half an hour trying to figure out the technical term for when you make sounds like “iunno.” Like when you use intonation and sounds but not words to speak and still get the message across. The best I could find would be calling it an approximate onomatopoeia of a phrase. 

Edited

Next Chapter >

[andiv3r]

Vent post, warning for parent death and a super fucking upset guy

I cant do this anymore. For the last hour and a half ive been sobbing so hard I think I'm gonna throw up. My dad is dying. I mean, he may as well be dead already. It's pretty fucking bad. And I've already had him nearly die once, but he's worse this time and refusing to seek help. I just can't. I can't FUCKING LOSE HIM. He's the one FUCKING PERSON on the ENTIRE PLANET who gets me, and I'm having to watch him get worse and worse every fucking day, and I just can't fucking do this anymore. I want to be angry. I want to be mad at him and I want to hate him but I can't because I know this is just how addiction works. It's not really his fault... he tried. He tried, he tried, he tried, and he was fine for a year. I had a year to hope that maybe he would be okay. That maybe he'd get to see me go to college. That maybe he'd see me graduate and go on testosterone and get top surgery. And now I'd be surprised if he lives for another few months, and I just. Don't know what to do with that. I fucking don't. I just. Fucking. Don't. He's my favourite person on the whole fucking planet. Everything reminds me of him. I won't be able to function when he's gone, I won't be able to do anything, without thinking about him. I'll never be able to enjoy Minecraft again because I'll be thinking about how he can't play with me anymore. I won't be able to take photographs without thinking about how he would compliment them. I won't ve able to cook a fucking egg without imagining him asking me to cook him one too. Instruments are out because he's the whole reason I wanted to play an instrument in the first place. Choir is out because he was in a choir too. Reading and writing are out because we read together and are writing a book together. Drawing? Nope, he used to give me advice on what to do with a drawing. Watching all my comfort shows? I watched those all with him. I mean, shit, he introduced me to Good Omens, what the fuck am I supposed to feel about that? I can't listen to half my favourite bands because he liked them too. I can't take a walk because we used to walk together. I can't sit in the rain because when I was little he would take me out into the rain to play. I can't stargaze. I can't watch half of my favourite movies. I can't go to the public library.

I can't live. Everything in my fucking life reminds me of him, because I do everything in life with him. How am I supposed to survive if he dies? How?

[howlingday]

Immortal

"Drinking again, Qrow?"

"Leave me alone, your highness!" Jaune wiped the spit that flew as Qrow mocked him.

The recent revelation of, well, everything, didn't sit well with anyone. Least of all the people who have been fighting the longest. Salem's existence was only made worse by the revelation that not even the god of death could take her. And like so many others before him, Qrow took to his drink like a dehydrated man took to water.

"Ruby's worried about you." Jaune offered.

"Who cares?!" He swatted away, only to fall over in his stupor. As he rolled over, Jaune took out his lien and set it on the counter. Once Qrow was to his feet, the tab had been paid, but it was a lengthy conversation. "Hand over my drink."

Jaune took the bottle in hand and looked him over. Would a little more alcohol hurt a man who was already stupid drunk? He already knew the answer, so he swigged it back for himself. The brown firewater burned his throat, and Jaune had to cough through a fit after forcing it down he wasn't much for the stuff, and tonight was a great reminder.

"Let's go back." Jaune took Qrow's arm, but was pushed away.

"Fuck you!" He pointed a finger at his face. "Years of my life wasted fighting a war that can't be won!"

"Your life is only a waste if you spend it here, getting drunk off your ass and making yourself vulnerable."

"Hmph..." Qrow scowled. "Never heard you be so chatty before. God or whatever you are."

"Think of it as the booze talking." He took Qrow by the arm and moved. "Now let's get you home before you hurt yourself."

"Hurt myself? Pfft!" Qrow shoved Jaune, but he held his grip. "What would a god know about pain?"

Jaune was quiet for a moment, but when he stopped and let out a sigh, Qrow felt the world get colder. He looked down to see Jaune's hand was became pale, and all the world around them was dark. Silent. The only thing he could see and hear, both clear as day, was Jaune.

"Do you know what immortality means, Qrow?" Jaune asked. "What it truly means?" Not waiting for an answer, he continued. "Immortality means that I, and only I, cannot die. Do you want to guess how many lives I've seen ended? How many souls passed with a smile on their face? How few of those come along? I tried to make friends with the mortals a few times before, but they always end the same. In a black hall, before a black throne, speaking to the black lord. And only half of them are happy to see me."

Jaune's eyes pierced Qrow's. "And those happy few are the ones I most cherish, because it means I brought joy to their lives; joy that YOU bring to RUBY's life. She loves you so much, it makes me ache because I can never know a love like hers or any others. Not because of any arbitrary rule imposed by the Brothers who abandoned us, but because I am terrified of knowing that love is real, only to watch it drift out of my fingers."

"So don't think I don't know about pain." Jaune's face paled and withered until only a skull remained, and his words chilled Qrow to his core. "All I know is PAIN."

"Hi, Uncle Qrow!"

Qrow whirled around, finding himself at the door once again. His niecegreeted him, and him alone. H e felt a stirring pain in his head. "Where's god-boy?"

"Jaune?" Ruby asked. "He's been in his room all night. Why?"

Qrow shook his head and made his way inside. "No reason."

"Are you okay? You seem... weird."

"Yeah, I'm fine." He said before sitting back in the big, comfy chair. "Just had a little too much to drink."

"Oh." Ruby's face fell. She shut the door, and hesitated to turn.

"Not as much as usual, though." Qrow said. "I'm... I'm trying to cut back. For real this time."

"Really?" Ruby said, looking at him with a glimmer in her eyes.

"Yeah." He chuckled. "Wouldn't want you to drag me home every night. It gets dangerous out there."

"I can take it!" Ruby clasped her bicep as she threw a hook in the air.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Ruby walked to the stairs. "Hey, Squirt?"

"Yeah, Uncle Qrow?" Ruby replied.

"I love you."

"I love you, too." Ruby smiled warmly. It was all Qrow needed for the rest of the night.

[crownmemes]

House Sentences, Vol. 8

(Sentences from House (2004-2012). Adjust phrasing where needed)

"How come every time you compliment me, it sounds like an accusation?"

"Why don't you stop pretending that you haven't reached a conclusion?"

"You don’t trust me. Actually, it’s more fundamental than that. You don’t like me."

"I know this doesn’t come naturally to you, but you want my help, which means you need to trust me."

"Why do you think that people would treat you worse if they knew the truth?"

"Why did you kiss me?"

"Why do you value your failures more than your successes?"

"Doesn't this seem a little bit obsessive?"

"Only psychopaths can kill other people without having some sort of breakdown."

"Don't ask me questions you don't want to know the answer to."

"People don't get what they deserve, they just get what they get. There's nothing any of us can do about it."

"Whether you want to be in charge or not, you are and you always will be."

"I've crossed a line, and I’m having trouble getting back to the other side."

"I could help. Whatever this is, it's eating away at you. We could get past it together."

"I love you no matter what."

"It's been a while since I had a stimulating conversation."

"You don't have to be so gentle about everything."

"It's okay to get angry once in a while."

"She hurt my friend. She should be punished."

"A problem delayed is a problem denied."

"What do you call each other? Husband? Partner? Lover?"

"I can't decide if this plan is more despicable or illogical!"

"You're pretending you had an affair with my wife?"

"In the great game of chess that is our relationship, you see only one move ahead. I see dozens. That is why you will never mate me... That's a chess term."

"You can understand love and pain and empathy, but you can't feel them at all. You're a psychopath."

"I'm not so different from anybody else. Everyone I've ever known, they're all out for themselves. The difference is, I can admit it to myself."

"When you watch Star Wars, which side do you root for?"

"Your motives always run deeper than simple fun."

"You are a diabolical, yet benevolent, puppet master."

"You are one tough gal."

"You can portray me as a rich bastard in the press all you want, just as long as I stay rich."

"You really think you can lie your way out of this?"

"Turns out criminals are idiots. If they're not gonna bother to challenge you, what's the point?"

"You have some natural talent as a liar, but not enough brains to see it through."

"How good looking am I?"

"That was pretty cool what I did, right? You want to make out?"

"You better not be faking this just to get out of a tough conversation."

"I'm your best friend, and half the time, I don't understand you!"

"You're alone. You've been alone your whole life."

"How do you convince someone that you're not cheating on them?"

"Are you having an affair?"

"You can't keep letting other people define you!"

"Do you understand what bisexual means? It doesn't mean you have sex with two people at once."