#mothie speaks up

[frankiensteinsmonster]

I don't think you understand, when I say my [insert body part(s) here] hurts I don't mean like it's a little achy or sore or stiff, even though it's valid and enough to feel that way as well. But what I mean is it feels like a fucking injury. I mean it feels like there is something wrong with me that I need to go get checked out by a professional. Only I know that isn't the case and it's just my condition. That's what I mean when I say it hurts.

[vocaloid-song-of-the-day]

sometimes I want to get into Evillious Chronicles and other times I want to stay the hell away from that convoluted chaos

[athylacines]

my brain rot consists of my ocs, fallout and resident evil. oh to be able to wRITE RN WOULD BE SO GOOD.

[ceilidho]

Having to read Mothie’s post about being harassed off Tumblr only to see Madi get another insane level of undeserved harassment a few weeks later and both because they talked about the very real problem of racism in the CoD fandom. The absurd level of racism and microaggressions in this fandom, particularly toward black characters and creators, needs to be acknowledged and addressed. No one should be harassed like this for speaking up about issues like this.

I don’t understand how anyone can see this going on and claim this fandom is a community and non-toxic. The only people this fandom is safe for is white women who are fine with ignoring the actual issues and harassing everyone else into silence so it doesn’t disturb their military propaganda escapism.

you are not wrong in the slightest. it's really fucking sad actually.

[yxstxrdrxxm-a]

SYNOPSIS: Kazuha, a well-known tailor in Inazuma, had a spouse. It's only a shame that his spouse is known for their 'infidelity' in his eyes. [ songfic ]

TW/S: Yandere tendencies, stalking, minor and major character death/s, emotional manipulation in a way, gore, violence, fire/arson, sewing... questionable fabric, unreliable narrator, shifting POVs, dead dove: do not eat, dollification, delusional thinking, Kazuha progressively loses it till the end, beheading, oh God this fic and tws are long Im so sorry―

NOTE: During the fic, it is recommended to listen to "The Tailor of Enbizaka". It will make sense when you read through this fic :)

(also, I apologize if this took a while for me to write. I got busy and writer's block hit me :( anyways, second work and its the best boy! Though, I hope you all don't blame me for fucking him up. Also also!! This is very much a long, LONG fic— like 2k+ long, so 🫡 gl soldier, I'll see if I don't need to make this to a 2 part series)

(update: this fic took 6k words, good luck y'all, this one is a WILD ride)

In Inazuma, there is a tale that is shared by many about a crimson clad man and his lover.

The others never settled on what he looked during the day before his death, nor were they sure what his prior job was before he became a tailor. However, they always complimented him for his looks and his skill, knowing that whatever he used as his own special fabric would be tailored and taken care of well.

Even with one full of holes and tears, he is gifted with the ability to patch them up till it was brand new. In the village he lived in, he was regarded for having such a talent, and he had his shop open and full of visitors.

However, the only thing that made people question him was his behavior. Despite how mild-manner the tailor was, he often comments on how his beloved darling refused to come home and continues to cheat on him.

Many those that still lived during the time said the crimson-eyed tailor acted delusional, but just how far can those delusions go?

No one knows but the man himself... And the one who persecuted him, too.

It was that year since I've seen my beloved after the accident.

A year that, when I saw them, I've longed to see them and speak to them about our time together as a married couple.

To begin with, I am Kaedehara Kazuha, or― as the townsfolk here call me, the 'Crimson-Eyed Tailor'. Although I am highly regarded for my craftsmanship, many told me that I am odd for my adoration for my beloved maple.

Why is it that odd? I thought all married couples do this, even if some think that it feels off.

Besides that, however, my darling isn't quite aware of my... Endeavors. More specifically, their streak of getting out for hours, perhaps days and weeks, and not even coming around to speak to me.

I am bound to them by an oath when we were married: we both drank sake together under that faithful light of the moon, with only nature watching over us. However, it would seem as if they have forgotten that, and ended up cheating on me in broad daylight.

Like they had no such shame.

Alas, I am but their husband, and I can't simply get mad at my beloved spouse. I know they did no wrong, for they sometimes meet with others as an act of being 'friendly'.

So while I focused on fixing the kimono, I've began to hear something that had been passed around in the village.

Something related to my darling's little ventures.

"I have spoken to [Name] about the matters in their marriage recently," one of the ladies spoke, her voice not so soft enough to conceal who she was speaking about as I fixed the fabric in my hands.

"And from what they told me, they're getting their kimono fixed for when their lover returns home!"

I simply continued on sewing, but the lady's next words had me flinch.

"Ah, they've been married for years, aren't they? And it seems they even have their shiromuku ever since their marriage to sir Kamisato Ayato. How romantic!"

...

The blood continues to spill on my finger, with the needle that I used pricking it when I've lost focus and got too careless.

How uncouth.

From the tale shared by the folks of Narukami Island, they talked about the crimson-eyed tailor's marriage with his supposed 'spouse': an immigrant of sorts from Fontaine, traversing to Inazuma to meet with their lover.

Their relationship together is strange. From the accounts of those with prying eyes, they said that he was the only one putting an effort to their relationship, and they wished to take it slow.

However, there are those that disagreed, saying that it had been the other way around— and it was he who wished for them to slow down.

No one can decide what the tailor had done, for they can't even tell if his desires were to rush or to slow down. But what can be confirmed is one thing everyone kept saying.

He doesn't like his trust being broken.

It had been days after hearing what I did.

I hadn't seen my dearest beloved in those days, and the day I saw them had been when the heir of the Kamisato clan had returned.

I had been busy as ever in sewing till I realized that I'm running out of thread. I don't have any spares, and I'm well aware that there are a few shops that sell supplies for sewing.

And so, on a lazy afternoon, I've got out of my shop in the hopes that I can catch the store to buy the supplies I needed.

The soft sound of wood hitting the pavement greeted my ears, alongside hushed murmuring and discussing with the commonfolk. I greeted a few that noticed me in passing, but they were swift to return to the people they were speaking to prior.

It was a mundane thing, really. But it was the type that felt familiar.

Turning a few corners, I managed to locate the shop I was looking for. Walking up the stairs, I waved at the lady taking care of the store—

—not before my ears perked up at the soft chattering in the distance.

My eyes trailed over to the source, and then, I see them.

My beloved maple.

I saw that they were conversing with the heir of the Kamisato clan, his hand reaching over to hand them a small gift: a small box, with the ribbon being the color of purple. I spot the gleam of gold on top of the ribbon, which eludes me to think that it is the insigna of the clan crested in gold.

How tacky.

I had to hold back the urge to stop them as their conversation was hard to discern, my focus back on the woman running the shop with the supplies I require.

"Hello, madame," I greeted, making the woman smile and nod in greeting as well. "Do you need fabric again, Kaedehara?"

I chuckled, but it was only to mask the bits of instability in my voice.

"Oh, not fabric, madame. I simply desire thread. I have ran out of red and black, and I didn't want to delay the commission I had from monsieur Lyney. Do you have any right now?"

"Red and black thread, hm? I can check at the back. Please give me a moment to look."

With a bow, the seamstress turned around to leave. With that, I let go of the breath I held and turned my gaze back to the bridge, just a few ways away from where my beloved sunset was at.

Watching the two figures, I couldn't help but simply stared at the attire that the heir wore.

Montsuki Haori Hakama: that usually means black or gray. I've known that colored kimonos were not worn with this in mind, and he certainly didn't wore anything that would be too straining.

Still, that shade of black is made of high quality. I'm not surprised if he wore it so rarely, as though to preserve the detail and its intricate work from his very own seamstress.

...

I wonder if I can take it?

Watching the two descend from the bridge, my eyes wandered back to the lady as she returned with the spools of thread, all varying in degrees of color and quality.

"Here you are, Kaedehara! These are the best I can find that fit the colors you asked for."

My eyes twinkled as I took the spools to my hands, my fingers turning and nudging the thread to see just how strong it is.

Interesting. Good quality, too... Maybe I can use this to finish that outfit I've been saving for a while.

"Thank you, madame," I thanked her, making her laugh. "Oh, it's not a problem, Kaedehara! You've done so much for this little town of ours, this is but a simple thing to repay for your efforts!"

With a nod, I paid the seamstress and turned back down to descend from the bustling upper part of the town, the sight of what happened in the bridge a bit further away bothering me from within.

No matter, Kazuha, I mused, carrying the items I required as I felt myself walk back home. Even if you want to get rid of him, it will be much too complicated. You simply need to be patient and wait till the opportunity comes.

...

Although, whoever made his clothes... I wonder if I can speak to them to inquire about their techniques.

The first case that started this was a cold one.

One that is related to a person no one knew so highly about, be it by their background, appearance, and even their name. All they were known for is being the 'tailor' for one of the clans.

There had been a lack of evidence and information about this due to how many tailors had been requested all across Inazuma at the time. It was understandable that people chalked up to them being missing as nothing more than an unfortunate case, not one worthy of being dug into.

Others had suspected that it had been associated with something else, that something (or someone) had done this deliberately. There was no evidence to this, but their claims were loud as they were bold, making it difficult to ascertain its authenticity.

However, the masses have all agreed that this was a normal occurrence. It was not one worth noting, because there had been a lot more that spoke of the same tale, always eluding to their fate being that they were murdered.

It was, unfortunately, the 'norm' of the village in the legend. A norm that, if the people of Inazuma heard it today, would have turned their heads in disgust for how abhorrent it sounds.

Still, many remained curious of the biggest what if that seem to echo in their mind.

Was the tailor associated with his sins?

The Kamisato clan has had it's ups and downs, and it isn't strange to see that they were seeking out talented tailors and workers to work under them.

What was surprising (to everyone), however, was that the head of the clan hired me to work as the Kamisato Clan's personal tailor.

The reasoning behind it was quite simple, especially with what the heir spoke to me when he and I met in the morning when I was to be summoned in the estate— due to his personal tailor (a family friend, he said) going missing for days, they were unable to track down his whereabouts and presumed that he has gone missing.

I was only hired as a "replacement" for the clan's special tailor till then, and he made it extremely clear that there was nothing else to it. Nothing that would spell the fact that I will permanently stay in that position.

Of course, to many, this may sound as an odd deal. There are so many tailors such as myself that would die to be consulted on, to work as the head of the clan's seamstress and work for their outfits. And perhaps, in their naivety, they may consider it as their efforts finally paying off in some way.

However, I have been in a clan myself before. This is nothing more if not a business deal.

A deal between one rising clan, and one whose surname has lost it's widely known heritage.

This only benefits the Kamisato Clan in the effort to save face. To save face of the potential backlash they'll deal with should any information of the missing clan's tailor be brought to light to everyone who remain blissfully ignorant of the innerworkings of the clan.

I would normally deny this kind of offer, mostly because there is no benefit for me to join and work for them. However, times have changed, and I simply reconsidered denying Kamisato Ayato's offer.

... There is a few benefits to me joining. It may be minimal, but it is better than scrounging around in the dark.

And so, I agreed to the offer.

The arrangements set for me to move was quite swift. I'm aware that that he is a man of his word, so it was quite easy for us to prepare my living arrangements and move to the estate.

With the supplies I get from the clan, it's been easy to stay put and gather information to the person I'm targeting.

... That was, until that day came.

I remember it clearly: it was the ends of fall, where the maple leaves fell more and more around the estate's grounds. This usually signified the coming of winter, so I usually savor the season by having time off to admire the scenery.

And in one of my walks, I had travelled from outside of the estate to see if things have changed.

Which, to my luck, I've encountered my darling beloved.

But just like last time, they were not alone.

In the journey of my wandering, I have seen them speak to the sibling of the older heir, Kamisato Ayaka, as they sit on the table outside of the Komore Teahouse.

From how far I am to the entrance of the teahouse, it gives me enough space to watch them interact like friends. The way that the Himegimi raised her fan to cover her face, perhaps from her eyes crinkling in amusement from what they told her...

... It was intriguing. Very intriguing.

So much so that I've felt the claws of envy grip in my chest, clutching its metal nails and making punctures on my already bleeding heart.

What a nuisance. Must you hurt me like this, darling?

I can hardly remember what happened after that. After all, my focus had been set on the two speaking to each other like they were simply companions, unknowing of what fate may bring upon them.

...

"Oh? Kazuha! I didn't notice you came to the Teahouse as well!"

My attention was swiftly pulled away from the sight of my dearest gem, and it landed on the familiar sight of olive eyes. From the appearance alone, many wouldn't think that an immigrant of Mondstadt would be a fixer.

Not even I would be able to see it happen.

However, this man had the skills to prove of his worth— after all, being Inazuma's 'fixer', he's often the go-to man to fix any and every problem that the Narukami Island and others may face.

Which makes him a glass canon— one that is volatile and unpredictable, even under the guise of a friendly face.

That is what Thoma is.

But this "glass cannon" has his weakness, and I know how to use it to my advantage.

Letting a smile slip to my lips, I chuckled, raising my hand to cover my mouth. "Well, I've been foretold by others about Komore Teahouse and it's history. I've been meaning to visit it, but I'm so busy fixing kimonos and making them to have time to spare."

A white lie, but then again, there are many of those that have been foretold in the waking of this world.

What does adding one do at this point? I'm already damned by the heavens the day I've seen the 'truth' of this fate of mine.

Just one lie wouldn't hurt, right?

"Haha, I can't blame you," the taller blonde seem to answer my query with his own, albeit he did seem to look more like he was at ease. Still, I needed to be weary; he can change sides if he so much as sensed that something is wrong.

"After all, with what the missing tailor in the clan circulating around the others in the estate, I'm even surprised that you manage to fill up in their position for months!"

... Oh? So he's noticed my talents, hm?

I shook my head.

"Oh, please. I'm just a humble tailor, Thoma," I reasoned, letting out a heavy sigh. "I have thought of asking them for advice on how they do their work, but since they're missing, all I can do is substitute for their absence."

He gave me an apologetic smile and nodded.

"That is true... I guess I'm just a bit too ecstatic to finally have someone that can fill in their role seamlessly. Lord Kamisato Ayato would've been panicking if we didn't have a replacement soon for his anniversary with his spouse."

... Spouse, huh?

"Hm... Is that so?"

I frowned in thought as I ponder over wanting to... Ask him for a favor. Sure, this one wouldn't do well on one's conscious mind if they knew, but it was simply for their sake.

It was all for them. I knew that.

It wouldn't hurt anyone if I asked Thoma to do this for me. At least, while I still have the chance to do so.

I can only hope the cannon does not think of shooting it's shot to me if I slipped up.

"Speaking of, Thoma, may I ask you for a favor?"

After the first missing case of the tailor, there had been more that were reported. The victims were all varied in their appearance, age, and even from where they used to live, be it in Narukami Island or even outside of Inazuma itself.

It was difficult to tell how many there were exactly, especially with how the legend is interpreted. Some said it was 20, while others said it was 50. This legend has been passed mouth to mouth, so details were not a key figure for a few to remember well.

However, every iteration has the same detail. The victims all had the same similarity as the tailor that simply went "missing".

All of them, in some way, were associated with certain individuals— one of them being his maple, where a few commented that they were the apple of the crimson man's eye.

From the legend and how it has been told, it is safe to assume that the motive was obvious from the first missing case.

It is akin of an open secret, if said secret was twisted to fit his ideals.

"Haven't you heard?"

"What? What is it?"

"The fixer, Thoma… He went missing just few days ago."

"What!?"

…

Ah, so he went missing like the others?

My ears had perked up at the news that we were told. Although Thoma is one many people never thought of being a 'target', the fact he went missing is... Odd.

"Perhaps he had done something," I heard one of the servants whisper amongst themselves, looking rather cautious. "After all, he's been very privy on a few things..."

"Yes, but he isn't the person I'd expect to vanish like that—"

"Shh—! People are going to hear you, you know! Keep it down!"

Hearing their footsteps echo as they take their leave, I turned back to what I have been working on. The sight of the kimono graced my vision as I raised the needle.

I began to sew the tears on it, letting out a soft hum while I fixed the black fabric from it's horrible state.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut—

"Sir Kaedehara? Someone is looking for you."

...!

I felt the needle prick my finger, but I didn't say anything. With a quiet hum, I raised my head to see someone speak to me, their face grim as they shifted on their feet.

Ah.

Despite the feeling of blood pour onto the fabric, I smiled and nodded, putting down the fabric of the kimono I was fixing.

"I'll be right there. Please tell them to wait for me."

"Really? Oh, thank Archons. I'll get going."

Watching them take their leave, my eyes flit over to my scissors.

Still as sharp as ever, I mused, pushing myself to stand up before fixing my attire. Mayhaps today won't need it to be sharpened.

For now, I had to see what the client wants from me. It would simply be a shame if I leave them alone for far, far too long.

Mayhaps they're here to inquire about the kimono I made. I made sure to add my personal touch to it.

...

As I walked to where my client sought to look for me, I see a familiar sight befell in the grounds of the Kamisato Estate.

The himegimi is currently speaking to my betrothed like they are close companions, and the magician (Lyney was his name, I recall), had been listening to their discussion at hand.

His eyes seem to lit up when he saw me, offering me a welcoming grin.

"You must be the tailor that my sister assigned, aren't you?" he asked when I was close enough to hear him, making me chuckle. Taking a seat across, I simply nodded, keeping my professional smile and demeanor in fear of offending him.

"Indeed, I am that tailor. My name is Kaedehara Kazuha, it is a pleasure to meet you."

"Haha, please, the pleasure is all mine!"

The magician shook my hand with mine, and the meeting went as smoothly as one may expect. Although, I couldn't help but let my eyes wander sometimes to where my lover is.

You were speaking to Ayaka like she's a friend of yours. I shan't stop you, darling, but perhaps you aren't aware of the pain you put me through.

Still, I couldn't afford to raise my voice, nor can I think of hurting you with my actions.

How unfortunate. Mayhaps I need to teach you a lesson myself, my angel.

If there was one thing that the legend failed to elaborate, it is the state of the missing people. However, there were... Creative liberties to those that began to see if the legend was true; or, pray tell, associated with any real life events.

To the eyes of others, going missing is a serious deal. It sparks a lot of ideas for what could've happened to them, and especially if they are alive or dead.

Albeit many shrugged off the prior cases, this one was serious. After all, the one that went 'missing' is the fixer of Narukami Island— Thoma, the immigrant in the nation of lightning.

It is, after all, what sparked the eventual downfall of the crimson-eyed tailor and his beloved. Many had thought this was the turning point, but those that did were found to be wrong.

This, after all, was simply the beginning of such downfall. But it wasn't to his lover, the missing residents, or even his companions.

It was to himself, when he used the blades to commit a sin undeserving of forgiveness.

The news that brought upon the missing Himegimi greeted the Kamisato estate that day.

I remember how people were in a disarray. They were much more shaken as they tried to get any sort of lead to where she is, and for some, they were already thinking of quitting.

The estate is already shaken from when Thoma went missing, but now that the young heiress has up and disappeared— especially in winter— it was in chaos.

While I sew the kimonos handed to me, there was an obi that laid on the pile by my right. It was a bit worn, but it can still be saved.

I needed to fix it, and give it my own personal touch. That way, it wouldn't look as though it had been abandoned by it's past owner.

Alas, the noise is getting to me. I could feel the silk resting on my bandaged hand slip every once in a while, if it weren't for how tight I've been holding the fabric.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

I needed to put my focus on what I'm doing. I needed to focus on the job.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

I mustn't let blood nor dirt stain my creations.

That is what my mother taught me.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut, se—

"I apologize if the estate is in a disarray, detective," I hear a familiar voice speak amongst the hushed and panicked whispers. "The estate hasn't been the same ever since my retainer and my younger sibling had gone missing."

"Oh, it's alright! I'm sure this matter is too serious for you and the others to keep things organized."

"Haha... You can say that it is. Now, it's just right this way..."

... A detective is in the estate. How curious.

It wasn't right to snoop, but I was curious. Curious enough to have finished the kimono I was fixing before I stood to leave my quarters.

The others paid no heed as I followed after the two to Ayato's room, too focused to do what they were assigned to even bat an eye when I got close to where they were heading.

It was only when they were inside that I've stopped and simply bid my time, my focus set on what was happening by the shoji leading to his office. And it didn't took long till I hear things from the other side.

"Ah, so you think that someone is out for you?"

"Yes. Although I am normally adept in figuring out who it could be that's causing this to happen, I can't put heads or tails with how their presence eludes me."

"Man alive... And you said that it started when they went missing?"

"... Yes, detective."

"I see... Man alive, that sounds like it wasn't just a single, one-off case, then. I can help you, but this will take a while if there's no leads."

"I see. It's fine, detective. I'll pay you enough when you figure out where my retainer and sister are. I could hardly think that someone would take them without such consequence."

"Oh, no worries. With me around, no criminal will get out unscathed— I'll make sure to bring them here when I figure out who did this."

...

I see.

Perhaps its about time I have to settle this with him.

There was a time where I have thought that things will change.

Where these cases will be laid forgotten, perhaps even unresolved with the lack of hints.

I spent weeks on end, keeping my tracks short and erasing any leads that can lead towards me again.

I spent so, so long trying so desperately to hide anything resembling my crimes.

But alas... He found me.

It was the time where I had to dispose of those bodies. Although I had no heart to bury them under nature, I was not above treating them as though they were simply people.

Even in death, I wanted to make them feel like they look peaceful. Although, perhaps simply sewing their wounds left by my scissors was not something I can treat.

In the middle of the night, I was carrying the Himegimi outside of the abandoned houses I tend to with her retainer, Thoma. I had thought of letting her rest someplace else. Her attire has been sullied, and I needed to keep the two somewhere where no one can find them.

Corpses rot over time, and if it was possible, letting them turn to nothing in the likes of Tsurumi Island will be enough for my weary heart to rest.

With how adept I am of keeping my tracks hidden, I had thought no one would be able to tail on me. But alas, due to the missing cases I've caused, perhaps I wasn't expecting this to happen.

"I knew you'd be here, Kaedehara Kazuha."

I simply paused upon hearing his voice, my head craning back to see that it was Ayato. Despite how composed he looks, I can tell that the nights he spent trying to search for his beloved sibling and retainer wore him down.

His once flawless appearance was nothing but sullied, his attire feeling like its simply hanging off of him, and the way he staggered while looking at me without a shred of restrain is new. Raw for such a heir.

"And that body..." he murmured, his eyes glaring daggers when he found out who it was.

Perhaps it's her dress that makes her recognizable. Or the hair.

"... I thought I've erased everything that can lead back to me," I spoke, sighing as I placed Ayaka's body down. "What a shame. I was quite close to erasing any traces and signs of their whereabouts. It would be nice to only have them be marked as 'missing', not dead."

"So... You admit to it, then?" the heir asked, walking over with stride. "That you have done this, Kaedehara?"

I simply said nothing.

And I knew that was enough of a confirmation for him.

"I knew something was wrong with you," I heard him speak, which caught my attention. Turning my body to finally face him, I watched as he scoffed and continued, "After all, a man as serene as you often had the worst to hide."

"Oh? How curious. Why would you say that?"

I saw his lips curl to a smile.

"Why, I had someone tail after you," he answered, his tone sounding so blunt and his demeanor became more like he's simply 'teaching' me something. "Someone that is associated with the clan. I'm sure you know who it is."

... How uncouth.

"I see... And you confronted me now? For what?"

"A duel."

He unsheathed his blade, and raised it towards my direction.

"I do not usually participate in these, but I'd like to honor your tradition. If I win, you turn yourself in to the Tenryou Commission. Confess all of your crimes, and we shall call it even."

"... Very well."

I raised my own blade, as a sign to his own.

"I needn't state my own terms if I lose, as I can't let you get out alive. Now, let us settle this matter... To each of our graves."

Usually, such details cannot be recreated from interpretation alone.

However, this one was the few exceptions to it's inevitable fate due to it's popularity.

The legend had focused on keeping the existence and ties of the Crimson-Eyed Tailor up for the listener's interpretation. This scene, however, was directly associated to a case that had been tackled many years ago.

The case went as such: each resident of a town goes missing each week. No one knows when it happens, as the day is often random. The victims of these disappearances are also random, so no one could derive from it being a 'pattern'.

No matter how young or old one is, their gender, their living conditions, and even their past... When they least expect it, they simply vanish. Erased.

The only times where the victim was found, several eye-witnesses had different iterations. Some said that the bodies were buried, while others found it floating by riverbanks and the side of the sea.

But the most common— and widely known, of course— was that each victim were made to a doll.

Their limbs were nothing if not sewn with thread, cuts of various degrees being patched with thread of similar color to 'mask' it's oddity. Their eyes were closed, but those that were unfortunate to open it were only greeted with it being turned to the back of their heads.

In some victims, several pieces of their possession were taken. However, most kept theirs on their person, and were seen to not be tampered with.

No one knows what drove someone to this degree. No one can even comprehend such a fact that it was entirely possible.

But to someone who's mind was twisted to the point of no return... It was.

This case had a name, but every resident of Inazuma refused to speak of it. Each time one does, they were told of the legend behind this case.

They were told of the Crimson-Eyed Tailor, and they were warned of one thing.

"Do not look at him or his betrothed. If you do, you're as good as dead."

...

It had been a year since our fight happened.

I remember the chaos that occurred back when I finally erased that man. Although it did left his body in an undesirable state, I still fixed and sew him up so that he didn't look as such.

Even in death, I wish to give the heir some form of dignity. That, in some way, I wish to give him his final respects.

After all, he had simply misunderstood my intentions. He didn't knew that I was out for one person from the very beginning.

The downfall of the Kamisato Clan was imminent at that point. I've seen many flee, and witnessed the tragedy befall on the Narukami Island. Many of the people I've met had simply ran off to seek refuge, the terror grasping and choking them like they were unable to think.

However, I remain clear. And I simply continued to do my work diligently.

I have been working on something... Special. And with one last snip of my bloodied scissors, it was now complete.

My final and life-long work, all laid across and now in my hands. The fabric I chose was rather difficult to sew. I should have known that human skin would be too hard, depending on where I retrieved it from.

Dying it in black, I wrapped the obi that had been sewn with the use of the Himegimi's locks, and retrieved the crest of the Kamisato Clan. Adorning it on my person, I viewed myself at the mirror to see my handiwork.

"Finally," I murmured, feeling an odd sensation in my chest as I wore the fruits of my labor. "It is now complete."

With the chaos guiding me and masking my presence, I fled to head by the mountain.

I knew where you were bound to go.

I knew of your crimes long before you knew me.

I didn't paid much attention if anyone saw me. I didn't care if blood simply poured from my attire and to the ground that I'm walking on. I could hardly give a damn if some realized of my crimes in that blasted estate.

I had my scissors with me, and I only wish to fulfill my last wish before I leave this cursed world.

You murdered my family, [Name].

You were the one who caused that fire all those years ago.

I remember those burns you gave me. I remember just how much of a coward you were, fleeing from the scene you caused yourself.

How could I lose everything? And how can you keep your family?

No. No, that mustn't happen. I must set this right.

As your 'lover', I'll make sure you understand what you did wrong.

The culprit of the legend was caught, at least by the end.

All of the townsfolk had banded over to help the detective figure out who had caused such a stir, and it was only because of one eye-witness that said everything. That simply told the truth of the man behind it all.

It was the Crimson-Eyed Tailor, the one who was gripped with envy, that caused such a massacre to occur.

When they found what became of the last victim, his 'lover', they became a doll of his own. After killing them, the legend proceeded to speak of how he had simply 'sown' their skin alongside his, making them his perfect beloved doll.

One of the iterations even mentioned that his unnamed lover was in a Shiromuku outfit, eyes gouged so they may "never look at another man". At least, from what the tale has concluded.

Because of the severity of his crime, the tailor was sent to be on his death row. When the detective tried to get information out of him, they found out that he has lost his mind.

He became a shell of the brilliant man they knew, laughing and speaking that he has finally fulfilled his desire.

Even when he was dragged onto the guillotine, that day was marked as the end of the massacre, and those who were alive spoke of the man's chilling laughter up until his head was cut off.

...

And that was the end of the "Crimson-Eyed Tailor" and his legend.

Or, more accurately, the history of the known "Dead Man's Heart" case, and how Kaedehara Kazuha murdered the one he "loved" for revenge.

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2023

[moth-moon-the-whore]

(Glitter wakes up and squirms a bit, moving to be able to comfortably wrap their arms around their stomach. She stares forward, seeming zoned out)

(Moth wakes immediately from his light nap, holding Glitter loosely enough she can move. She speaks softly, gently rubbing Glitter’s shoulder)

Mothy?

@glitter-m0th

[cardentist]

do you think that behemo's characterization in ec is transmisogynistic? he plays an important role, and the dynamic between him and levia is really interesting, but the barisol's child song has always made me a tad uncomfortable, since it plays into the violent crossdresser stereotype.

@thecyancat well !

firstly I want to say that everyone is entitled to how they feel about it, so I can't speak for anyone else. I don't want to say that nobody is Allowed to be uncomfortable with behemo's portrayal.

but ! I will say that I'm actually quite surprised to hear that! for a few reasons.

1: within the context of the song by itself (both in complete isolation and before we got further context about them later on in the series) behemo and levia are held up as The Same. they're alternate versions of the same person, one cis and one trans, and they're Both presented to potentially have violent tendencies. moreover, this impulse isn't Unique to them. it's directly connected to the disease Malice/HERs within the song, something that we're told affects Many Many people. (and something that we see affect many Characters throughout the story).

so even Just within the song itself, behemo is not singled out in his behavior at all. not between himself and levia, and not between him and other people.

2: we Do learn more about levia and behemo, and as we do we realize that we were Intentionally mislead about behemo. not that behemo is a perfectly moral character, but rather that while Levia wanted to destroy the world, Behemo had been explicitly trying to save it. to preserve all of humanity in the face of the literal end of the world, Three Times Over. there is no perfect character in evillious, everyone is a messy person. but behemo Tangibly caused a massive amount of good and had been actively trying to do so throughout the entire series. none of the characters would be alive without behemo.

"the transgender god is almost solely responsible for saving all of humanity" doesn't sound like a very transmisogynistic trope to me.

3: the events of the song are Intentionally ambiguous. we were lead to believe that behemo may have hurt someone in the song, because at the time we were supposed to see both him and levia as villains. but neither of them were in the end. and What, exactly, happened is left ambiguous.

that doesn't mean that I rule out that he might've hurt someone, but rather that what we learn about him as a person and his motivations as a character contradict it.

4: even if behemo Had turned out to be an unambiguously evil character, behemo isn't the only trans woman in the story. we Have another trans woman character who is Also central to the narrative, has been a major character longer than behemo has, and is an unambiguously good person. she even became a god herself and Also helped to save the world.

mothy has a tendency to make trans women lesbian goddesses.

5: and even if THAT hadn't been the case, behemo was introduced to a series absolutely full of violence. one of the very first songs has a character commit genocide out of jealousy, whereas behemo was only ever implied to have potentially murdered one person.

which circles back around to my original point, behemo wouldn't have been singled out as uniquely violent for being a trans person when he hasn't done anything worse than what the cis characters have done.

6: personally I actually really enjoy barisol's child, as it feels To Me like it's a story about being isolated for being different. we're Meant To Sympathize with behemo. which really resonated with me as a trans teenager when it came out.

evillious features that theme a lot, people lashing out because they themselves have been isolated hurt and othered. and it doesn't Excuse the behavior, but rather ties into the thesis statement of evillious, that is people are not inherently evil.

7: I do also think the popular video for the song has a translation that's a little skewed. I wouldn't say that it's Wrong necessarily, but it was based on a much older translation than what @pricechecktranslations has available, and was made with the Assumption that behemo was indeed a villain. so the wording is more awkward in places than it would be if, say, I made a subtitled video now.

[bowieandqueen11]

The Mausoleum / Klaus Hargreeves Imagine

Not requested but wanted to write some comfort for poor Klaus and also give me some more practice writing again!

Warning: some strong language!

(I do not own the Umbrella Academy or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @capinejghafa.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

‘Are you sure this is such a good idea?’

Ben’s timid voice warbles out from beside your ear, but you’re too busy shoving half-wrapped peanut butter and jelly sandwiches into your knapsack to really pay attention to his hesitancy. You raise an eyebrow at him and he sighs in return, looking dolefully down at the bottle of chocolate milk he hands to you.

‘If I don’t go, how much longer do you think Klaus is going to last out there? This is the third time this week dear old daddy dickhead has locked him out there, and each time he comes back he’s even quieter than the last. It’s starting to scare me Ben.’ The young boy who should be far to young to already know the horrors of which you speak swallows thickly beside you; his left hand gives him away as it unconsciously reaches up to grip at his pyjama top, nails digging into the meat of his stomach. The other hand grips onto the frame of the kitchen chair and squeezes until his knuckles burn white. ‘I know. It’s scaring me too.’ 

You make to go, but before you can turn towards the stairs Ben has desperately taken a step forward and grabbed onto your bicep. With a fear-stricken face, he tries and tugs you back towards the dim mothy glow of the open fridge light, nearly knocking a jar of mayonnaise onto the floor with the effort. ‘But Y/n, dad will kill you if he catches you sneaking out there again! He called my bluff the last time you went down the fire escape, and he swore till he was red in the face if you did it another time he’d lock you away and I’d never see you again!’

You could the tears beginning to swell in Ben’s eyes as he began to tremble, his fingers jumping in a mixture of fear and overwhelming resentment as you placed one of your own tenderly on top of it. ‘What the hell am I going to do if you go? It’ll be so lonely here without you, I might as well be a ghost with how much the others just look through me.’ He wipes the back of his nose with his sleeve and looks deploringly at you, begging you to just stay and come back up the stairs into the safety of bed. But you can’t do it. You just can’t. 

‘Something happens to him out there Ben, and if Luther won’t do something to stop it, the least I can try and do is make sure my brother doesn’t have to go through it alone.’

He knew it had been a slim chance, but he was disappointed all the same. He just nodded, finally letting you go and your arm fell back down to your side with an unceremonious slump. ‘Hey, if I do get kicked out, you can just bribe into using his powers to help you come and see me!’, you joke in an attempt to try and cheer your brother up, but he just rolls his eyes and turns his back to you, beginning the long chore of cleaning up the plates and knives you had used to make some snacks for Klaus. You sigh, running up behind him to surprise him with one final tight hug round his back, before turning on your heels and heading straight for your bedroom window.

It didn’t take very long for you to hear Klaus’ screams once you had clambered down the very rusty, very rickety looking ladder attached by rusting screws to the outer wall of the Academy. They were faint at first: jagged and piercing as they scattered across the white marble tombstones like weak moonlight. You shook your torch, swearing indistinctly at it as the thin beam began to flicker across the tangled weeds and unkempt dirt that scraped across your angles. Trying to swallow the nervousness that was starting to crawl its way up your belly and into your throat, you gave it a final slap against your palm: just in time for it to fully illuminate how close you had wandered to an angel statue on the edge of the lot. Nearly walking into its stern, moss coated nose, you yelp as you take a stumble back onto the thin stretch of cobblestoned walkway that leads to the mausoleum. With a hand on your heart, you double over and take a second to try and recapture your breath - a second that is cut short by the sound of a shriek of pure terror that seemed to be echoing around the finger scratched walls of the crypt.

You run the rest of the way, no other thought or care in your head except the need to reach Klaus before something unimaginably terrible happened.

‘Klaus - Klaus, it’s me! Can you hear me? I’m right here, hold on a sec!’ You slide to a halt, wincing as you skid through the dirt and slam your shoulder into the imposing bars lining the crypt door. Trying to shine your torch through the sliver of gap left between the door and the frame, you barely manage to make out the blur of tufty hair as you squint.

‘Y/n, please! PLEASE! Please help me!’, he sobs, scratching at the hinges of the door and heaving between his cries. You hear a thump against the metal; Klaus’ voice reverbs from further towards the floor, alerting you to the fact that in his desperation to escape, he’s probably injured himself by falling onto his knees. 

‘PLEASE. Make them STOP! Y/N!’ He’s full on blubbering crying now as you try with every pounding fibre of your being to inch the door further and further open with your telekinesis power. Becoming frustrated at the slow progress, you try to help it along by clawing at the handle of the door yourself; you lift one booted foot to the door and heave backwards, nearly flying onto the crusty top of a grave as you tugged. Klaus joined you, the last bit of energy he had left being used to flatten his palms against his side of the door and push, before being followed by a few dull thuds and the sound of frantic scraping of fingernails.

Except for your grunts of effort, and one last ear-splitting shrill from Klaus, the night seems to settle into an even more uneasy quietness. A cold solitude settles over your back and sends goose bumps shooting over your muscles as you continue to work alone, praying the quavering zombie moans coming from behind the locked door aren’t the sound of Klaus joining the dead.

You nearly cry in relief when the heavy door finally swings backwards, flooding the shrouded room with clouded starlight. For a second, Klaus seems to have forgotten it was you looming like the boogeyman on top of the steps. He shivers, emitting a broken yelp as he cowers into himself and squeezes his eyes shut tighter, the tears beginning to burn into his skin. 

Jumping down the stairs, you don’t even care that you nearly twist over your ankle as you come skidding to a halt next to your inconsolable brother. Even when you place your hands on your shoulder and come kneeling down next to them, they seem to heave like dying gasps against the darkness, trying to shove you off of him. ‘Klaus, Klaus, it’s me - it’s me! It’s not Reggie, it’s me, it’s okay.’ It takes a few goes to try and get past his ducking head as you reach round his fingers and unclasp them from his face. He refuses to open his eyes until you manage to cup his cheeks, turning him quite abruptly with a heartfelt impatience towards you. They feel damp, and cold, so very cold against your fingertips, and yet it’s the most welcome feeling in the world when you begin to detect the hints of warmness: of life in his soft cheeks too.

‘Y-Y/n?’ He sniffles, and you feel your heart cleave in two as he musters all his courage to blink open just one eye at you. When he finally seems to come to his senses, you wouldn’t have been able to claw Klaus Hargreeves off you even if you had a thousand years and the weight of a million men. He tumbles head first against you, knocking your hands back into a pile of crunchy, dry leaves as he leaps his arms around your neck and nestles his head there too for good measure.

‘Please- please don’t leave me here. They won’t... they won’t stop screaming.’ You can feel his hands fist into the back of your blazer. ‘I want to go home.’

‘Oh Klausey’, you start to card your fingers through the back of his hair, the two of you so wrapped up in just gripping onto each other for dear life that you don’t realise he’s crying into your shirt - the wet patch that soon will give your evening activities away to Sir Reginald Hargreeves. For the moment, those thoughts are far in the recesses of your mind; you bump the side of your head against Klaus’ ear, and use your free hand to rub up and down his back as his stifled whimpers begin to wind down into sniffs.

‘We’ll go home soon, once the sun comes up.’

‘And you’ll let me sleep in your room again?’

‘Do you really even have to ask?’ 

He seems to calm down at that: his breath evens out into long sighs, his vice around you loosening until he’s able to pull slightly back from you and look into your eyes with his own blood-shot ones. He even does his best to try and smile at you, a sudden tired relish shuddering through his heart at the realisation that there was actually someone in the world that cared about him. That loved him. And that he loved more than anything too. The sudden fear that grips him at the thought of you ever going away from him was enough to distract him from the ghosts for a moment; instead he turns his efforts into reaching out and gripping your fingers with a forlorn frown.

‘And we can hide under the blankets again?’

‘Old Reggie will never find us there, Klaus. Or the ghosts. You’ll be safe with me forever, I promise.’

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

MMM now I need the proposal with the rings we madeee-

We probs ask Childe first and he just bear hugs us while sobbing, then Legacy poofs in and wonders why everyone is crying-

He sees the massive ring and the smaller one Tartar was just given, it clicks and he’s a happy weeping mothy mess

YES THIS IS THE GOOD STUFF RIGHT HERE. 5 STAR MEAL

listen, hear me out- Childe doesn't want anything flashy. hell, he's not even expecting anything; he's been trying to work up the courage to propose to YOU! but he's been busy, and you've been busy, and... look, Childe has his own doubts despite his bravado and he's been going through at least ten "what if" scenarios a day when he thinks of proposing. he has a ring for you and everything- all he has to do is ask the question, right? but he's just so worried that you'll say no, or that you'll get hurt because of him... so he bites his tongue while you're on a walk together, instead nudging your shoulder and asking how your day was so he can listen to your voice

he smiles fondly when you start to talk, unweaving every word you speak in his head and treasuring the way your voice lilts and falls in a lovely rhythm- but then it fades away, and Childe pauses, giving you a concerned glance. you simply tap your fingers together, swallowing your nervousness before pulling two rings from your pocket, both etched with an elegant star pattern and peppered with small blue stones

"I've been working on them for a couple of months, and now just seemed like the best time, so... will you marry me, Ajax-"

you're cut off when he throws his arms around you, sobbing into your shoulder and making your shirt damp, not that you really mind. he lets out muffled "I love you"s as he cries, only letting go of you to allow you to slip the ring onto his finger- right before his form shifts into Foul Legacy, the Abyss monster trilling in confusion upon seeing the tear marks on your clothing before his crystalline eye laser-focuses on the second ring in your hand- the one you made for him- and Legacy audibly squeaks. he fiercely nudges his head against yours, chirping and crooning and looking from the ring to your face and back again like he's waiting for a confirmation, and when you laugh and nod his mask-like face absolutely lights up. suddenly you're scooped into a tight hug, Legacy cooing tearfully and messily burying his face into your hands for pets, affectionately nipping and licking at the skin as you carefully slide the ring onto his claw, earning a delighted flutter of his wings

Childe gives you the ring he got for you right afterwards, the both of you laughing about it for the whole evening

[pricechecktranslations]

Comments in the Miku Symphony Album

Here are the comments mothy made on the two new songs in the Miku Symphony Album, translation under the cut

At the End of a Millennium Vow This great tree is called the Millennium Tree, and is worshipped by the people of this land as the god of the forest. As the name implies, it is a being that has watched over the thousand-year history of Evillious. However, in the world's destruction that Millennium Tree was erased alongside all other phenomena. The girl that the Servant of Evil had fallen for…That spirit that dwells in the Millennium Tree, Michaela, was once little more than a small robin. Just how did this Michaela become human, and then transform into the god of the forest? And then there's the Original Sinner, this indispensable "Eve" that Michaela speaks of… This is the story of Crimes and Punishments that was witnessed by a spirit of the forest. (This work was made with elements of being a remake of another song I made a long time ago, "Maiden of the Tree"♪)

The Contradictory Grim the End Among all of the vessels of deadly sin, the one considered to have the most mysteries behind it is the vessel of Wrath, "Grim the End". This vessel that pops up when it's least expected, that doesn't even have a concrete true form--there are legends of dubious authenticity that it was used in the assassination of figures like Duke Venomania and Duke Conchita. This song approaches one of the mysteries about it…To be specific, it investigates into the true identity of the demon that dwells inside the vessel. (This is a song from the viewpoint of Adam, who debuted in the song "moonlit bear". It's the first Kaito tune I've made in a long time♪)

[ehud1564]

Anyways. I think Mothy should be boiled in Lava for the Lust episode of "Seven Crimes and Punishment". This is the Reason Mothy will never get a cent from Me. Duke Venomonia.

But this got me thinking. And... This is my Version of This episode. I know no one asked.

The episode starts similar. Except... All the women Venomonia Kidnapped are there. Lukana, Mikualia, Miyalis, Lolan Eve, Gumina. And even more. IR is there too, despite our knowledge that can't be.

Allen has a similar conversation with Venomonia as he has in the novel. But when he tries to talk to the women... He finds he just can't.

I will leave it up to your choice of what Can't mean. The reasonable, but boring choice would be that they just don't see him and don't respond to him at all. But... I have less reasonable ideas that are way more fun.

You can have them talk in gibberish. You can have them repeat one or two phrases as answers to everything. You can have their mouths move, but not make a sound. You can have them talk in cries and moans. You can show they have no recollection of the previous sentence in the conversation.

Allen finds that extremely weird, and he doesn't quite know what to do. Venomonia is getting increasingly Frustrated and angry.

And then... Suddenly... The door to the Mansion bursts open! And in the doorway, there is Miyalis and Lukana! And some Winged creature.

Lukana is armed with scissors, maybe even a sword. Seeing the scene, she lunges at Duke Venomonia, Phasing straight through IR as if she didn't exists, and stabs Duke Venomonia in the Eyes.

The women disappear immediately. Only Miyalis and Lukana remain. Lukana now rapidly slashing at Venomonia with her scissors.

Venomonia transforms into his demon form and Shakes Lukana off. But not for long, as the winged creature takes of and effortlessly restrains Venomonia as Lukana Keeps attacking him.

Miyalis reveals the winged creature to be Eater, having borrowed him from Banica. She goes on a grand monologue about everything wrong with Venomonia. And declares they won't let him keep acting as he dose.

Feel free to come up with specific of this speach. I don't really remember how Myalis speaks at all, so I won't try to come up with anything.

Miyalis joins Lukana in beating up Venomonia. Arte comes to Allen to lead him to Banica, and on the way they talk things out.

Shortly after the Master of the hellish yard comes to collect Duke Venomonia. And eater Returns to Banica's side, arriving shortly after Allen.

This is kind of extremely OOC but I don't care. This is infinitely better than what we got, maybe a bit too much. It is essential that Venomenia does not get the same Harem again in the after life. Especially not with Lukana, or Miyalis.

[frankiensteinsmonster]

Is it invalid to worry about your environmental impact as a person who lives on this planet (especially when loads of other people seem to live in ignorant bliss or openly just do not care)?

Not at all.

But as disabled people* I really think we should allow ourselves those accommodations we need/that would make our lives easier.

Bottled body wash lathers easier and saves you that tiny bit of energy while you're washing up? Can't seem take care of your bar of soap so it runs out fast because it's always wet and actively makes your bathroom harder to clean? You deserve to preserve your energy and keep yourself clean. Use it.

Bottled water means your executive dysfunction won't get in the way of you getting hydrated? Means you can keep water by your bed so you don't have to endure the physical pain of walking to the kitchen? Means your OCD symptoms won't prevent you from drinking water for hours-days at a time? You deserve to drink water without stressing. Drink it.

Paper plates and plastic utensils mean you get to eat without having to worry about dishes + prevents you from having an overwhelming sink full of every dish you own covered in rotting, smelly food that may even attract bugs and cause them to breed in your sink? You deserve to eat freely and live in a clean and safe environment. Use them.

Can't wash clothes on the regular let alone cleaning rags due to energy/executive function, ability, finances, ect.? Use paper towels. For whatever reason you need them. Spills so you don't take up your only clean towel and risk it sitting + developing mold and mildew. Wiping off your counters. Dusting. Drying your dishes. Drying your hands. I literally do not give a fuck. Use them!

Use frozen vegetables that come in plastic bags and frozen meals that come in single use plastic and floss sticks and plastic cups and precut fruit and veg and whatever little necessary 'convenience' you can think of that makes your life easier. Just because you Technically, Physically can pull it off doesn't mean you should and it's important we think about the consequences of our actions even if we're the only ones really impacted by them. You're important. And for a lot of us, these things are what makes the difference between Getting Things Done At All and sitting in shame because we can't bring ourselves to make our own everything and do everything the long or right way. We put too much pressure on ourselves to make up for what abled people aren't doing themselves. If Anybody deserves a break it's us.

Don't misconstrue this as discouragement from doing what you can or whatever, but I need all of us to be a lot more realistic about what impacts our lives and which trade offs are worth it for our own sake.

It's unfortunate that we don't have options for more sustainable resources when it comes to taking care of ourselves, but it shouldn't fall on us to choose between a significantly more difficult life or feeling guilt free. Advocate where you can for better treatment of the planet, and until that can happen-- non-disabled people can and should pick up the slack for us. They literally have that option and the impact they face is an infinitesimal inconvenience compared to the real health/quality of life consequences that build up in such a severe way over time. We deserve that little bit of leeway.

*disabled includes both physical and mental ailments on this post btw

[ghostradiodylan]

happy holidays! what do you think is each of the counselors' favorite type of pie? (i say this as i am scarfing down pecan pie like my life depends on it) also! optional -what's your favorite type of pie?

Happy Holidays Mothy! Thanks for the cute ask!

I freaking love pie and this is all going to be me completely grasping at straws to headcanon, but I’m here for it! 😂

Abi is my only fellow southerner in the bunch (Ariel Winter is from Virginia and you can pick up her accent from time to time in the game) and I feel like THE quintessential southern pie is pecan, though it’s eaten all over obviously. I would say Abi is either pecan pie or Derby pie (although your answer about Nick never having sweet potatoes almost made me pick sweet potato pie because that would be funny).

Speaking of Nick, I think he’s maybe not a big sweets guy and if you asked him he’d say his favorite was a traditional Aussie meat pie, but for dessert, maybe an apple tart, or something weird like one of those raisin pies.

Jacob is pumpkin pie. It’s a classic for a reason. But he’s also kind of a basic bitch. 😂 He likes it with a pile of canned whipped cream on top and also squirts a bunch of it directly into his mouth like an animal.

For sweet and tart Kaitlyn, lemon merengue. Graham cracker crust over pastry crust, because I said so.

Emma’s whole vibe is classic with a twist, so I’m guessing a lattice-top apple for her with the surprise twist of a little sharp cheddar cheese in the crust. She’ll tell you all about it on her channel.

Ryan’s grandma makes a mean buttermilk pie in P&W, but I think his favorite might be peanut butter. (This might actually be Jacob’s favorite too given his love for Peanut Butter Butterpops, but I couldn’t resist making him the basic one, and I wanted them all to be different.)

Something about my boy Dylan says cherry pie to me but I couldn’t even begin to tell you what. Preferably hot, with ice cream.

@itscomingupaces pegged Max as a cheesecake man in the baking ask and I agree. New York style, of course. Maybe with strawberry topping. Is that technically a pie or a cake? Well, it has a crust, so I think it counts.

Laura I almost wanted to give Saskatoon Berry because Siobahn is Canadian but Laura doesn’t really give her Canadian-ness away like Abi does Ariel’s southern-ness so let’s meet in the middle and say blueberry.

And I rarely meet a pie I don’t like (though I don’t like pumpkin that much, actually, too squishy) but my favorites are pecan, Derby, peanut butter, coconut cream, cherry, and key lime.

[zeelovesyouyo]

the thing

tagged by: @f-lorui (im so sorry i only just saw this. is this still a thing? im so bad at tumblr)

• last song: o superman by laurie anderson

• favorite color: black.............or red, if you consider black cheating. black and red combo is even better

• last movie/show: i've been in a whirlwind mix of frieren, abbott elementary, and dungeon meshi. all great shows!

• next on my watchlist: samurai champloo

• last game: grim fandango. manny <3 <3 <3 i have also just started heart of the woods!

• last book: hell followed with us by andrew joseph white. absolutely beautiful queer story that captures queer rage so well! and so much representation

• sweet/savory/spicy: savoury. you give me something too sweet or spicy and i will cry

• relationship status: in a full-time polyamorous relationship with my mental illnesses <3

• last thing i searched online: bone emoji 😭

• current obsession: uhhhh idk im kinda in a hyperfixation rut at the moment. BOTW probably!! yes im STILL trying to finish that game. i guess anime in general??? don't usually watch anime and i've been trying to knock things off my list lately while i can't walk

• greatest flaw: weak-willed. not good with intense emotions

• fic im reading: north node by mothie!! (the gang knows whats up!) tagging: i think im too late for this one babes but ill tag anyway @uinuu @nyduo @robotomyy @godtrapp (feel free to block me and never speak to me again ill understand <3 /j)

[vocaloidsongtournament]

FINAL RESULTS! October 2023 Vocaloid Song Tournament

1st Place: Evil Food Eater Conchita

2nd Place: Judgment of Corruption

3rd Place: Daughter of Evil

Figures that three of the Seven Deadly Sins would make the top 3! Thank you guys for another successful tournament, even with the slow turnout at the start with all the obscure mothy songs. Speaking of which, please do take the time to listen to them if you haven't because mothy is more than his biggest hits. :)

Furthermore, we had just hit the 300-follower milestone! Thank you so much for keeping up with tournaments since May! I don't have anything special planned or anything, but I do wanna express my appreciation nonetheless.

As per usual, there will be exhibition matches at 2 PM CT daily until the next tournament starts. So, as per usual, please be sure to vote, reblog, spread harmless propaganda, and have fun!

Oh, and Happy Halloween!

[lumilasi]

MAJOR UPDATE: I ended up changing his story and BG lore a lot, AND redesigned his wings. He was the only one with none of the complementary color details in his wings when compared to the other 4, so I decided to add it in them.

Bio below:

Name: Yoruga Avara (Yoruga translates to Night Moth, Avara is the surname of the guardians of the tree he manifested from, that are still listed as his next-of-kin)

Nicknames: Yoru-chan/Yoru (Hayden, Alois) Mothy (Youko) Koi (Roman, it means moth in Italian as he's from Italy) Nephew (Iris), Stick-bug/bugstick (Claude)

Age: He died around the age of 20-21, but is now 25, so he has existed in his new form for 4-5 years

Height: 164 cm

Family: He stayed with the keepers of his birth tree for a while (The Avara family), then moved to the Capital once he was emotionally and mentally stable enough to go and start his new life properly. Since he's still listed under their guardianship, Yoruga continues to use their surname.

Friends: Hayden (his absolute bestie), Alois (his boss) Roman, Bianca (his coworkers) Caelan (the BF of Hayden's brother) Youko (A kid he sometimes babysits) Miriam (His boss in his second job/his honorary aunt Iris' best friend)

Love interest: None (he’s Aro-ace)

Occupation: Arcane Library Keeper assistant/Cafeteria employee in charge of the freakshake specials. (Formerly paranormal investigator)

Personality: 

Yoruga comes off like a goofy weirdo who everyone accepts just Does Things, and nobody questions it. Be it painting smileyfaces on random things and calling them “friends” or vibrating so rapidly he breaks whatever he’s sitting on. He's often compared to a cat with his mannerism and good stealth.

Beneath this childlike exterior however, exists a serious, cautious and always prepared fighting spirit, who also enjoys taunting his opponents and make them think they have the upper hand on him, before getting the rug pulled from under them so to speak. This readiness for trouble is likely due to his past life meddling into paranormal hauntings, which could be quite dangerous.

He’s very protective over his best friend Hayden and basically anyone he's close with, to the point when he switches to his more serious self, he can even come off scary. (he's good with stabby things after all)

Abilities:

WINGS: His wings are fire- and stab-attack proof, and he can poof into hundreds of tiny black moths and reform himself back. Yoruga can also use these butterflies to blanket large areas into complete darkness

VOICE: He has a supersonic scream that can shatter glass and rupture eardrums. Can even cause a heart-attack on weaker people

STEALTH: He’s very good at blending into shadows, and he can use his little butterflies to spy on people. Generally he's super stealthy, to the point he has to warn his coworker Roman beforehand about his presence, or the former mobster might accidentally attack him when startled.

POCKET DIMENSION: Yoruga, like other moth spirits, has a pocket dimension to store things in. His is particularly big even among his kin, allowing him to store objects bigger than himself, and even engulf an area into his pocket dimension. He uses this both for transporting things (sometimes even people)

SPEED: Yoruga's speed at utilizing his pocket is also unusually fast; normally when a moth spirit summons something from there, it forms out of glowing butterflies matching the spirit's colors. In Yoruga's case, it looks like he just pulls things out from inside his robes. (without them, it looks like he just pulls them from his body somehow)

STAB: Yoruga is excellent in using short bladed weapons in fights, and can even recognize what type of enchanted blade one has/what materials it is made of and how durable it is.

WEAKNESSES:

Due to his oddball behavior, he's not good at making friends, hence he tends to be a bit clingy to Hayden when he's in need of social interactions.

Since it is likely that Yoruga died in a building collapse, he tends to be uncomfortable and anxious in tight, constrained spaces, to the point he prefers using his own wings as a blanket over actual ones.

FUN FACTS:

His foster family surname he still uses for official documents and such - Avara - is Finnish and means "open/spacious"

His name translates to Night Moth, which is likely the name of the place he died at; old abandoned theater, a nightclub, he's not sure what the place was exactly as he can't remember.

Iris is another honorary family member who was fostered by the family, and she considers Yoruga a honorary nephew, which is why she refers to him as such usually. She was also the one who got Yoruga his job under Miriam.

Yoruga likes chin scratches and might randomly ask some from people, typically his best friend Hayden, Roman, or Youko's adoptive parents Shura and Shika. (Roman was weirded out at first, but is now used to his weird cat-like behavior)

Yoruga makes really excellent freak-shakes (over-the-top milkshakes) though he's banned from making one for Youko before dinner, as the kid will get a massive sugar rush. His shakes are one of the specialties of the cafeteria.

Some people can see through his goofy facade, but react to it somewhat differently; his boss Alois, his boss' LI Jurou and Alois' niece Avane find it amusing, whereas Hayden's brother Claude finds him spooky and weird.

He and Hayden often get up to Shenanigans in their free time, especially during Halloween; they might go to the human world to spook people, as both are good at it.

His style is basically "Weird funky details mixed with cutesy childlike vibes or spoooooooky"