#nobody else understands that. i can see past everything and i see the shape of allof us and i want to talk to people about it so they

[itsalwaysdark]

my entire family thinks im crazy now . god . ok . anyways

[vidalsbeloved]

fly little bird, fly

Warnings: Reader gets injured, (that’s all I can think of lol)

Rio Vidal x Female reader

Words written: 2.2k

Chapter 1 : The Bird Flew Astray

1680

Darting through the woods away from Witch Hunters was the last thing you thought you’d be doing on a day like this, but alas you had to settle for it. You didn’t mean for this to happen, but someone from the village had caught you shapeshifting and reported it.

You had managed to escape your home through the window in your bedroom— but that didn’t last long, being as one of the townspeople had been walking around the outback. It was right there that you bolted, your navy dress rippling in the wind behind you.

You mutated yourself into a deer, your hooves thudding against the earth as you drove deeper and faster. It was an integral choice, better to help you drive further away than to draw back. Gunshots wrung the air around you, your heart pounding in your ears.

Of course, they knew it was you, the only deer out this time and day. There was no going back now, you couldn’t relive the moment, so you drove onward. Hoping that god or satin save your soul. Another gunshot wrung out, this time accompanied by arrows that flung past and overhead— and then, just as you focused your attention back on the path you were taking, a cobblestone wall, could be made out. You took your chance at the last second and before you could do so much as run into it, you shape-shifted into a bird— more specifically, the only bird you could think of at the moment. A swan. And flew upwards, into the sky, your wings working hard and overtime.

You could already feel the drastic change the shifting was taking on your body, the strain in your muscles. The way your wings began to quiver, but you pushed on. Flying higher and higher into the sky, over trees and land.

But still, the hunters pursued you— because you were a witch and they wanted you dead. You had known of the hunters close by, but you had never feared them, not until now. You could hear them from below, shooting up into the sky, calling out ‘Come back here, you devil.’ But you ignored them.

You knew you were a mistake— a mismatch in the very existence. You were never meant to be on earth or anywhere really, but here you were. It had taken you years to understand that, but no less did it ache your heart. Nobody wanted you, because you were everything that wasn’t human and everything that wasn’t human, didn’t want you.

You were not supposed to be here, walking the earth like it owed you when all you did was disguise yourself into something you weren’t. But that’s all you knew, you weren’t made, you were forged. You were a child of the devil, and someone had raised you from the fiery pit of hell.

You swiveled around arrows, dodging bullets and trying everything in your power to survive. One strike and that’s all it took to send you right back to your home away from home, one piercing bullet that would kill you in an instant. You may have been a shapeshifter, but that did not make you immortal. You would die one day just like everyone else, it just may take a little longer than most average human life. Being a shapeshifter meant you outlived your offspring, like you did. You had a sister once, but she had gotten herself killed. She was a witch, not you, but different. The hunters burned her at the stake. You weren’t close to her, so seeing her die didn’t have much of an effect on you.

Though you later mourned her, that was because you realized how utterly alone in the world you were. You got used to the feeling, but still every once in a while you felt an ache. A yearning to be seen, to be wanted. To feel an embrace so warm and welcoming— to understand that being different was okay and not wrong.

A sudden movement from below shooting up at you and piercing your skin grasps your attention. Being all caught up in your head had caused exactly what you feared, and now you were paying the price. Your wings twinged and then you were falling, panic gripped you suddenly and you desperately tried to get a grip and stop yourself from hitting the ground, but your wings wouldn’t budge, the pain shooting a hot shard of white pain down your back.

You heard the sound of cheering a distance away from the hunters and you were met with the sight of trees. The air shifting around you, suddenly to cool and dank. When your body collided with the ground, the pain only seemed to grow and suddenly you heard a tree branch snap and the sound of footprints. You tried to move, but your body hurt all over. You tried again, getting ahold of yourself, still in bird form, and managed to flip up onto your palmates, gripping the ground from falling over and looking around you for a hiding place. A sigh of relief washed over you when your eyes made contact with an underbrush— you bolted for it and tangled yourself with the plants surrounding it— taking advantage of your size to better hide yourself.

The hunters walked down the path and stopped, looking around for you. When they didn’t see any sight of you, they continued walking along. You stayed where you were for a few minutes longer, scared that if you made any noise, they would come back.

You slowly came out but stayed close enough to the underbrush in case the hunters came back. You don’t know how long you stayed there for when you heard a door opening in the distance, you looked up, and a green hooded figure came into view. You scrambled back into the underbrush, but not before her voice boomed out.

“Who’s there?”

Before you could so much as move to hide, the woman rounds a tree and locks eyes with your swan. Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the mysterious green-clothed woman. She asses you, then cocks her head to one side, squinting, and looks to your injured wing.

“I know you’re not a sawn,” she says. “So you can turn back.”

You hesitate— how did she know? She rolls her eyes at you. Then adds, “There not going to see you, there’s a rune around this house that makes you invisible to the human eye.”

You ever so slowly allow yourself to come back to your human form and when you do, you realize that you are naked. You go to cover yourself with your arms, only to remember one of your arms is injured. You look down at your injured arm, you have an arrow between your ulna and radius. You feel sick looking at the sight and swallow, looking away and back to the woman.

She’s looking at you with peculiar interest as if she’s trying to figure you out. You look away again, shivering, your dark messy hair coming out of its bun and spilling over your shoulders.

She breaks the silence with an aggravated huff, “Are you mute?”

You shake your head and whisper, “I….” but nothing comes out.

“You’re an interesting, little thing, aren’t you?” she says quietly, then comes closer.

You tense as she nears. She must sense your uneasiness because she’s whispering next, “I won’t hurt you, I just want to see.”

She looks you in the eyes as she squats down in front of you and asks softly again, “Can I?”

She motions her head to your injured arm, you nod and release a shaky breath when her hands gently come to yours, lifting it to inspect the damage, you whimper in pain.

“You took quite the fall back there baby, I’m honestly surprised you’re still alive,” she says, looking back up to your face.

A hand comes up to brush away the tendrils of hair that had fallen out of your bun, her eyes tracing every curve she can find on your face.

“How did this happen?” she asks.

You swallow and stutter, “S— Someone from my village caught me changing form.”

The woman scowls gently, “You’ve got to be careful, sweetheart. These people could kill you.”

“You think?” You snap, then look away, ashamed of your outburst.

“Sorry,” you murmur.

Her lips twitch up into a sly grin, “No need. You’ve been through a lot today, how about I take care of your little…” she ponders on her words. “misfortunate run in.”

Your lips quirk up at that— you nod and she pulls back just enough to remove her cape from her body and pull around your shivering form. When her skin makes contact with yours though, a jolt of energy runs down your back, gripping at the very essence of your life. You lock eyes with her and for a second you see her eyes flicker with something that you don’t understand until she moves to help you stand.

You get up onto your feet and wince as the blood rushes down into your toes, every fiber of your being aching from driving yourself too hard. She grips your shoulder tightly, steadying you as you move to take the first step— you feel yourself falling before your brain manages to catch up, but luckily for you, the woman catches you before you can hit the ground.

“Careful,”

You take in a shaking breath, nodding your head, and move to walk again. This time though one of her hands is holding your waist.

She leads you slowly to her little cobblestone house and opens the door— and you are grateful for the heat that clashes with your shivering cold form. You take in your surroundings as she moves to shut the door after getting you inside.

The space is small, the ceiling overhead, whirling with moss, that seems to grow with the exterior of the cobblestone. You bring your head down to look around your surroundings, between the space of her kitchen is a rocking chair by the fire and a bed settling up against the wall in the corner closest to a fireplace.

She leads you to the bed, settling you down before heading for the kitchen. She grabs a basin filled with water and a rag, turns back to you, and walks the distance to you. She settles down and moves to dig the rag into the water.

She looks back up to you and reaches for your arm. You flinch when the cool water touches your skin, but her grip seems to tighten.

“You’re a rare kind of witch, you know?” she says. “I’ve never seen or met a shapeshifter before.”

You swallow, “There aren’t any others out there.”

She locks eyes with yours, “What’s your story?”

“I don’t have one.”

She snorts. “Everyone’s got a story.”

You hesitate and look away. “There’s nothing much about me.”

Sympathy flashes in the woman’s eyes before she diverts her attention to the wound. “Can I at least get a name?”

“It’s Y\N,”

“Hmmmmm…. makes sense for such a pretty girl.” she winks at you.

You blush and look down at your lap, “What’s yours?”

“I’m Rio,” she says.

“Thank you, Rio,” you say softly. “For helping me. Rarely, I’m ever given such attention.”

For a moment, she pauses her work on your arm and looks back up at you. Her eyes squinted, studying you, but there was also a familiarity within them— an understanding. You feel suddenly drawn to her. You think that it’s because you’ve been alone for so long that now, potentially, you could just be desperate. But you then realize it’s something deeper, something so warm and fuzzy, you wish to know what the feeling is, you try to pinpoint it on every map in your head, only to come back empty.

It’s gone just as fast as it appeared, she looks back down to your arm and shifts it to get a better angle, propping it up with some pillows.

“I have an idea, do you trust me?” she asked.

You squinted, but replied wearily, “Yes.”

She smiled softly and lifted her hands. In a circular motion over the arrow, you see it begin to glow a dark green. Though it was still in your skin, you could almost feel as if it was shifting, but oddly enough, it wasn’t hurting.

“It’s a healing spell,” Rio says before you can ask. “Most witches use them with injuries. It mends skin and fights infection. In your case, it’s dissolving the metal.”

Your eyes widen and you look back up at her, “How is that even possible?”

She smirks at you and replies wittily, “Magic, baby.”

When you look back down, the arrow is gone. You turned your arm over and back in pure shock. You glance back up to Rio and she watches you with curiosity.

“You haven’t practiced much magic, haven’t you?”

You sigh. “I’ve had nobody to teach me, I’ve only ever had myself.”

“I can teach you.”

Your eyes widen, “Ooh no, you don’t have to—“

“I want to.”

You clamp your mouth shut.

“—But,” Rio started up, “it’ll cost you.”

You furrow your brows and ask, “What?”

“I’ll need something from you, something only you can give me.”

You swallow, your breath catching in your throat. “What do I give?”

“Yourself.”

“What?”

“Be mine.”

You contemplated her offer— you had been alone for years, and now here came Rio asking you to be hers. But at what cost? And why? You suppose it didn’t matter, after all, you were desperate.

She wanted you.

She wanted you.

“I give myself to you, Rio.”

She smiles slightly, “Please, call me, Lady Death.”

[bouncybongfairy]

Stress Relief

Bakugou x Fem Reader

Summary: Aizawa offers you extra credit to tutor Bakugou for an upcoming test. Need I say more?

Word Count: 1.5k+

Ref Account: @kaionyx

TW: Rough Smut, Oral Female & Male Receiving, Facial.

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Sitting in your room and dissociating never felt so good. It was finally the end of the week and you felt properly chewed up and spit out. Muscles were sore and brain was fried, all you wanted to do was sit in silence. Emptying out your backpack and organizing everything on to your desk. The stress you were under was slowly chipping away at you. Hearing a knock at the door made your eyes roll, the last thing you wanted was to interact with anyone. Wiping the scowl off your face, you go to greet the unwanted guest. The feelings of annoyance quickly turned into insecurity once you saw it was Aizawa and Bakugou. Trying to casually fix your appearance as he began speaking in his monotone voice. 

“Hello, sorry I didn’t mean to come to your dorm directly but this is a time sensitive matter. Bakugou needs a passing grade on this next test, I’m willing to bump your grade up 5% if you agree to help,” he explains, making Bakugou’s frown deepen. 

“Oh of course, we can start right now,” you said, practically beaming. Having your grade pushed up five percent was a God sent gift at this point in the semester. 

“Wonderful, Bakugou, please try to be open to the tutoring,” Aizawa said before walking away. 

You gestured for him to come in, made you feel nervous watching him take in the room. All your posters and collectables are now starting to feel a little dorky. Not really sure what to say, you just sat in silence as he took in your room. You were pretty soft spoken and he was anything but that. It often worried you seeing how dark he was. It was so apparent that his anger issues were coming from a deep wound from the past. When all your friends would gossip, they talked about him with such vascularity and objectification was quite sad. As much as you tried to discourage this, there were times you agreed. The intimidating look he always had written across his face. The way his pent up rage came out during combat training. 

It frustrated you knowing that he could overpower you. Any time you were paired to spar, he always managed to out maneuver you. Pinning you to the ground or wall. As much as it affected the confidence you had in your combat abilities, it made you feel warm and fuzzy. The last time the two of you were sparing, he grabbed your forearm so hard it left a bruise in the shape of his hand. You stared at it in the mirror for a while, confused why you liked it so much. Running your fingertips over the purple and brown blotches. Thinking about the way he looked into your eyes when throwing you to the ground. Walking away with no care or regard for you physically or mentally. It made you melt even though you’d never admit it. The two of you were sitting at your desk, helping him with his English assignment; he was getting frustrated and you were enjoying it a little too much.

“That just doesn’t make any fucking sense. The assignment was to summarize the fucking article. I don’t have to talk about my feelings about it, it’s not even specified!” he said, raising his voice. 

“I could understand you don’t want to give your opinion on it but the teacher isn’t going to accept it until you do. You’re being ridiculous,” you huffed the last part under your breath. 

“Excuse me?” he asked, folding his arms. 

“Nothing, i’m just saying the assignment-” you started but became interrupted. 

“No, go on. Explain why I’m ridiculous, I wanna hear you say it,” he said, furrowing his eyebrows and grinding his teeth. 

“You are ridiculous. Are you so ignorant that you don’t understand how lazy you are? You act like academics is optional and that you can rely solely on your combat. Nobody else will, so I'll be the first to tell you: Thinking physical prowess will get you where you wanna be is stupid and delusional,” you say, starting to pack his papers up. 

“If anyone is stupid and delusional it’s you, we both know the real reason you accepted this little study session,” he scoffs standing up. 

“What do you mean by that?” you ask, knowing exactly what he was implying. 

“Do you think I don’t notice you staring at me? Finding any opportunity to throw yourself at me. I can only imagine what runs through your head while you watch me. I have an idea by the way your cheeks flush and your pupils get wide. The way your body shakes when we spar. It’s stupid and delusional for you to think I'd ever want anything more than your body,” he said, now backing you against the wall.

You weren’t sure what to think, part of you felt like this was him showing his interest in you. Another part of you was worried he was just being cruel. Like he was stringing you along, trying to make you look desperate just to pull away.

“Interesting way to say you want my body, if you wanted me that bad you could just ask,” you patronize. 

“I wouldn’t have too,” he said, grabbing you by the throat and pushing you against the desk. 

You were now halfway sitting on the edge of the desk. Legs dangling off, separated by him grinding against you. Letting go of your hair, holding your face in his hands. The kiss was sloppy and wet, not being able to get enough of each other’s touch. You reached down and ran your hands up his back towards his shoulder. Lightly scratching down as he started kissing your neck. Nipping and sucking hickies on you, his heavy breathing giving your body goosebumps. Your hands begin to wander, fingers dipping into the back of his pants. Tracing all the way around, stopping when you felt his happy trail. He sits back on the office chair and stares you down. This makes you blush, sliding off  and onto your knees. Your body was slightly under the desk, he took your glasses off and set them down.. 

Genuinely being gentle, which made you feel more safe to be vulnerable and vulgar. Taking his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him. He moaned softly as he collected your hair in his hand. Using the other to stroke your cheek and face. Eventually you start bobbing your head up and down. Looking up and watching his reaction, he huffs and grunts that pour out of his mouth. His eyebrows furrowed together and sweat started to bead on his forehead. Feeling him get harder and harder as things started getting more sloppy. His hands were getting rougher, both of them now laced in your hair. Helping fuck your head down on his shaft faster. Cursing and moaning, starting to buck his hips. Making you gag around and spit around his cock. He pulls you by the hair off him with a loud pop sound. Grabbing himself to smack and rub his tip against your lips as he tips over the edge. Covering your mouth and chin with his cum. 

Expecting him to be done but being taken off guard when he grabs your jaw. Bringing you to his level and smashes his lips against yours. Moaning into the kiss, being taken completely by surprise from how brazen he was being. He pulls away, a mix of saliva and his cum dripping down both your mouths. Standing up, he grabs your waist and lifts you on the desk. Sitting back down and spreading your legs, using his fingers to massage your clit. Moving down and eventually pushing a finger inside you. Bringing his lips down and starting to eat you out. Flicking his tongue, moaning as he felt you tighten around his fingers. Increasing the speed of both his hands and mouth. Stroking himself off, seeing you in so much pleasure was making his cock feel touch starved. Reaching your hands down and pulling and yanking. His hair was sweaty and you could feel him breathing hard against your core. 

You tried holding back your orgasm as long as possible, wanting to enjoy the pleasure before becoming overly sensitive. He pushes a third finger which makes you fall  over the edge. Feeling the walls of your cunt spasm and tighten makes him cum for a second time. Standing from his chair, rubbing his tip against your clit while continuing to finger you. Making eye contact as his warm cum covers your lower stomach. Resting your foreheads together, trying to catch your breath. He almost dozed off but eventually realized it was getting late. You were passed out, not wanting to wake you up, he carries you to the bed. Grabbing a towel and wiping you down. He didn’t want to go through your clothes, so he slipped his tee-shirt over you. Walking out in his tanktop, Kirishima gave him a side eye as he left your room.

[dragonologist-phd]

Six-Song Soundtrack

tagged by @herearedragons!! tysm, this was so much fun- i love playlist games, the hardest part is narrowing it down to just one song for each!

Rules: If you're tagged, make a new post with links to music and/or lyrics describing the following:

An event that defines your character's past

How your character sees themselves

How others view them

Their closest relationship (platonic or romantic)

A major fight scene

End credits song

And since it's a playlist game, i gotta do it for my lovely beautiful bard!

Piper Soundtrack:

Blush - Dessa

Metaphor - The Crane Wives

Feeling Good - Nina Simone

All I've Ever Known - Hadestown Soundtrack // You're Not Going Alone - The rough & Tumble

Shatter Me - Lindsey Stirling, Lizzy Hale

Free - Florence + The Machine

(rambling about song choices below)

Blush - Dessa

I'll be Your favorite me Mostly carefree Laughs easily But what you can't see In my routine Is how hard it gets to keep the heartbeat clean ... I think I'm done up on the tight rope I want a love that feels like more than just survival

As a young woman, Piper possessed beauty, grace, and a gift for music. This combination drew the attention of Eliyen Ivaris, an elegant noblewoman who hired on the tiefling bard as a court performer, and soon became her lover.

Eliyen treasured Piper's music and beauty, but it soon became clear she wasn't interested in much beyond. Piper knew this yet stayed, nervous about leaving the security of her position. Finally, the day came when she could not stand to be stifled any longer, and she disappeared with a small fortune in stolen treasures. This relationship- and the consequences of her thievery- stayed with her for some time.

Metaphor - The Crane Wives

I've gotten good at making up metaphors I've gotten good at stretching the truth out of shape And all these words are sweet and meaningless You can't trust a single thing I say

We know her as Piper, but before the Crusades she was Lark. Lyra. Cantrelle. Aria. She was an endless supply of names and stories, and she knew how to get by on nothing more than her golden voice and silver tongue. It was easy- she just had to become what people wanted, until the winds changed and it was time for her to disappear into another mask.

Feeling Good - Nina Simone

Fish in the sea, you know how I feel River running free, you know how I feel Blossom on the tree, you know how I feel It's a new dawn It's a new day It's a new life for me And I'm feeling good

And speaking of masks- a song for the valiant Knight-Commander! The beautiful, free-spirited Azata, full of confidence and joy, bringing hope to the people and new life to the blighted lands!

The picture she paints isn't false... but very few people know just how much she's making this all up as she goes

All I've Ever Known - Hadestown Soundtrack

You take me in your arms And suddenly there's sunlight all around me Everything bright and warm And shining like it never did before And for a moment I forget Just how dark and cold it gets All I've ever known is how to hold my own All I've ever known is how to hold my own But now I wanna hold you

You're Not Going Alone - The rough & Tumble

You can stand there stricken at your old front door, Or shake the dust you swore you’d hold You may not belong here, anymore, But you’re not going alone

ok i did do two for this one! had to, sorry

First one is for Arue- her sunshine in the storm, the gentle, brave woman who fills Piper's life with love. She's still amazed they get to be together, and she wouldn't trade their love for the world

And one for Woljif! Piper's best friend; they understand each other on a level nobody else does, and they accidentally help each other become better just by being there

For someone who's been alone so much of her life, Piper can't help but feel blessed to have those two in her life

Shatter Me - Lindsey Stirling, Lizzy Hale

If I break the glass then I'll have to fly There's no one to catch me if I take a dive

This song specifically makes me think of Piper in the Abyss, storming the Fleshmarkets and freeing everyone she can, solidifying the change in her alignment from Chaotic Neutral to Chaotic Good. It's suitably dramatic and the violin here makes for some great bard battle music!

Free - Florence + The Machine

Is this how it is? Is this how it's always been? To exist in the face of suffering and death And somehow still keep singing? ... 'Cause I hear the music, I feel the beat And for a moment, when I'm dancing I am free

And this one just seems like a nice closing song! Very suited for Piper, especially as she embraces herself and her life, with all the good and bad that comes with it

if you actually read through all that, god bless. thanks for sticking around!

tagging:

@bugdotpng @dujour13 @camelliagwerm @mordred9971 @orime-stories

@first-talon @miseryscrowned @bladesmitten @big-cheesy-productions @arendaes

@bezelusbubulez @starlightcleric @vigilskept @thesolemnhour @ampleappleamble

@rollofleaf @adozentothedawn @undyingembers @thefathersbride @milesmentis

@serenbach86 @jean-dieu @daisymeade @kaleido-scope-lady

tag list here!

[nomoreusername]

The Bare Minimum

Pairing:Aris x female reader

Summary:As other girls keep giving Aris a rough time you do everything you can to comfort him.

“You’re okay now,”I repeated, stroking his hair. He didn't say anything as more tears fell from his eyes. Despite it being hours since they had pushed him into the lake I could still feel him shaking and hear his teeth chattering.

“I don't know what I did,”He said through hiccuped sobs.

“You didn't do anything,”I promised, wrapping my blanket a little tighter around him as we stayed in the corner of my hut.

“I didn't even see what they looked like.”

“I know, love. I know.”

“I’m not here to hurt anyone, and I haven't done anything wrong,”He uttered, his voice straining from the past three hours of crying his heart and soul out, until there was nothing that he had left to give.

“I know.”

“Why doesn't anyone else then?”He mumbled.

“I don't know, but it's not your fault. Okay? Nobody chose to be here. You didn't choose to be here.”

“I can't take this anymore. I’m sick of them. I'm sick of everyone but you,”He whispered as I traced shapes on his shoulders.

“That’s not true. You’ve got Sonya and Harriet, right?”I reminded him. He didn't say anything as he pulled his knees to his chest while keeping his head on my lap.

“This place isn't my home. Not the way it's yours, and it never will be,”He murmured, resting his hands on my knee while remaining curled up in a ball.

“I’m going to get you out of here, okay? I’ll find us a way through the Maze. I don't know how long it will take, but it will happen,”I promised.

“Unless they kill me by then,”He mumbled.

“I won't let anyone hurt you.”

“You can't be in the Maze and in the Spring with me. Even if you could, you can't be there every second of the day,”He reminded me.

“Aris, I will be by your side every minute that I can. I won't let something happen to you. Do you understand?”

“You can't do that. You're just one person, Y/N,”He sighed as I pressed my hand to his cheek. Taking it, he fidgeted with my fingers, tracing his between mine and on my palm.

“I can try,”I repeated.

“I know you will, but that doesn't mean it will work.”

“Then, I’ll have to try harder,”I stated simply.

“Just don't blame yourself if it's not enough,”He whispered.

“You know me better than that,”I sighed.

“I do, but it was worth a shot,”He mumbled, still keeping my hand in his. Looking down at him, I let him go deep into his mind as I kept thinking about how I would handle this.

Right now though, wasn't the time to actually go into detail. He's here, and he's alright. A little shaken up, but he's alive. He's breathing and not covered in blood.

It may be the bare minimum, but right now it would have to be enough.

[linkspooky]

hello♥ I loved your and psycho's recent analysis posts about gojo after 236 because they made me realize I've kinda misunderstood him as a character for awhile. one thing I was wondering : how would you explain gojo's line about "nobody will have to be alone again" in the context of gojo consciously choosing to put a degree of separation between himself and others? and if he only fights for himself, why does he care about saving the youth of kids or raising the next gen of sorcs?

The answer to this question, like most questions with Gojo is "it's complicated."

Gojo himself says that he chose to draw a line between himself and others as living beings, and even if they loved him he never expected them to understand him. Yet, when talking with Shoko he says that he's doing all this so no one will ever be left alone again. If Gojo was the one who decided to separate himself from others then why phrase it like he was the one being left in the dust?

In this scene he's likely referring to Geto as the one who was "left alone" rather than himself. We know almost nothing about Gojo's childhood except for the three years of his youth in high school, because in story those are the only backstory details that matter to his present motivation. We're shown his high school days because his present motivation as an adult is all about what happened to him in his youth, that's what shaped him the most as a character. That's also what informs the audience about his character.

If Gojo's own springtime of youth had not been ruined, it's likely Gojo would never have worried about students or gone into teaching, if only because Gojo is not like Geto. He doesn't worry about ideology or right and wrong the way that Geto does. The purpose of Nanami's statement saying that Gojo only ever wielded Jujutsu for himself not to protect anything else, is to point out the fact Gojo enjoys being a sorcerer. It's the hardest job on earth for everyone else, but because Gojo is so untoucahbly strong for him it's a chance to flex his ability at the thing he's best at. Gojo enjoys being a sorcerer, and besides being dragged down by the burden of protecting weak people he likely would never have noticed what was wrong with society as a whole had it not impacted him and Geto.

As for his statement about never leaving anyone else alone, it's likely Gojo's attempt to try to understand what went wrong with Geto and the reasons for why Geto defected. Gojo doesn't worry about ideals after all so he can understand there is something wrong with the sorcery world, but not why Geto would risk his life for a completely impossible ideal. He just knows that something went wrong with Geto and in a year of Geto spiraling he didn't notice until it was too late.

Gojo's understanding of the situation is likely that the reason he wasn't able to notice what went wrong with his best friend was because of the sudden power difference between them. Geto even lambasts him for this, calling him arrogant for calling killing humans impossible when it's something that someone at Gojo's power level could currently do. Gojo therefore accidentally calling attention to the fact that him and Geto are on different levels now by pointing out that Gojo isn't strong enough to carry out his ideal of a world of only sorcerers.

Gojo seems to think where his friendship went wrong with Geto was when Gojo became so powerful that Geto could no longer keep up with him anymore. In general because Gojo has always been so powerful that being a sorcerer doesn't wear down on him like it does other people, he probably thinks something along the lines of if Geto had siply been stronger in the past then Geto never would have been worn down and snapped as hard as he did. It's Gojo misunderstanding a relationship built on empathy and understanding because he sees everything through the lens of being a sorcerer. At some point Geto stopped being someone constantly around him and started being alone, and Gojo's trying to rationalize why that happened through the way he sees the world.

I think Gojo cares about the youth for multiple reasons, number one he genuinely does believe in his ideal of protecting children because the three years of his schooldays were the only time he felt like a human being. Number two, a more pragmatic execution of his desire to change the world of sorcery. It's easier for him to start from the bottom up by changing the next generation. If he just slaughters everyone on top he'll be viewed as a tyrant and they might even team up against him and fight back against him. It's easier for Gojo who wants to exist in the world of sorcery, to try to work from inside. Youths are also easier to make as his political allies because (this is Gojo being really pragmatic here) they're more impressionable.

The last part is where he projects both himself and his failures in his youth onto the next generation, and is trying to correct those things. He had a year to seek out Megumi after hearing Toji's dying request and only did so after Geto's defection. Gege's word of god confirms he only took an interest in Megumi because he was a strong student with potential, but I believe he saw a lot of Geto in Megumi.

Before this Gojo says "but... it looks like me being strong isn't enough, I can only save those who are prepared to be saved." Gojo likely intervened earlier with Megumi, because he thought there was nothing he could do for Geto who had already reached what Gojo dubbed beyond a point of no return. However, he could still help someone who was in Megumi's stage who wouldn't refuse any help like Geto did.

However, Gojo's way of helping Megumi is misguided formed by Gojo's own misunderstanding. He tells Megumi to get strong otherwise he'll be left behind, because he believes part of the problem with Geto is that he simply wasn't strong enough to keep up with Gojo.

It's Gojo's central misunderstanding, he wants to have equals but he doesn't want to have to stoop down to other people's level or get off his pedestal so instead he seeks to bring people up to his level. If he could create a group of intelligent allies who were on his level, not only would he finally have someone on his level but it's in their best interest too because they wouldn't suffer Geto's fate.

If Geto had simply been able to keep up with him, Geto never would have gotten lost and his friend would still be here.

[raccoonfallsharder]

blackmail material (almost-smut for your monday ♡)

part three is so close to being done and i’m actually really happy with it. just had to shake off my commitment to my original concept/opening (will recycle that later or share as-is here).

⭑ read parts 1 & 2 (18+ only & mind the ao3 tags)

⭑ part 3 will be posted on monday, october 23

see behind the cut for a little taste though because mondays are rough and you deserve something nice.

“I wish everyone was nice to you,” you tell him frankly.

Rocket makes a scoffing noise, and then goes quiet. When he speaks again, his voice is measured. Careful. “Quill’s been getting on my last frickin’ nerve this past cycle.”

Since the Night of the Vibrator, you think. Your brow creases. “At least nobody else has said anything. Or have they? To you?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think they know. But Quill - he’s been giving me dirty looks for rotations now.”

You scowl. “I want dirty looks,” you say. “He’s been giving me these wounded-puppy stares and lecturing me.”

He snickers. “I was thinkin’.”

“Oh no,” you say lightly, and you can practically hear him roll his eyes. When he doesn’t go on, you prompt him with another little bump to his shoulder. “What were you thinking?”

You hear him make a sound with his tongue on his teeth, like he’s almost regretting saying anything at all. But then he speaks: a study in forced casualness. The words grind softly against the night-cold air, leaving little bits of gravel and frost-chips in their wake.

“Might as well do something to deserve ‘em.”

You grow still. It’s not so much a freezing - it’s just that the movement evaporates off your skin and everything inside you goes very quiet, like the wind dropped out of a blossoming branch. Slowly - carefully - you turn to face him. Your eyes strain through the darkness, searching, trying to find something in his face that you can read in the shadows. A moth floats between you and the passing light sweeps over him. His face is all carelessness - on the surface. You think, if you could see him more clearly, you’d be able to tell how much of it is a sham.

You hear him swallow, and yeah, that confirms it. Your heart aches a little for his uncertainty. You tuck your knees in and roll onto your hip. His face snaps toward you. This close, you can see him a little more clearly: soft and shadowed, but features visible. Eyes wide. You wait for a heartbeat - a pulse - then continue your path: slowly slinging one leg up and over his lap, giving him time to change his mind or shove you away. But he doesn’t, and you carefully rest your wrists on his shoulders: twisting one hand sideways so you can card through the fur on the back of his neck, and flexing the other one downward so you can slip your fingertips delicately under the collar of his jumpsuit. You avoid the metal buttons and bolts on his back, just stroking the top of his shoulderblade delicately. Your weight is balanced on your knees and shins, and from this angle, he’s eye-level with your breasts, their shape muffled by the soft folds of your loose sweatshirt.

His hands come up instinctively. You feel them fumble at your waist - then grip the folds of your sweatshirt at your hips, like he’s not sure what to do with them. Not for any lack of appetite or direction, you think. No - it feels like he’s still uncertain what he’s allowed to do.

If Rocket could see inside your pretty head, he’d be able to tell you that you’re right. Not that he would tell you that. But of course you’re right, he’d think. You’ve made it your silly mission to know him so well, to understand as many little pieces as he’s given you, and even more he’d never meant to drop along the way. And no matter how blind you are in the moment, Rocket can see you perfectly well. He knows exactly where he wants his hands: digging his fingers deep into the plush curve of your ass, getting his palms full of you and squeezing ‘til you whine. He’d already filed his claws two rotations ago, just in case he got fuckin’ lucky enough to get his hands on you again. A pipe dream, he’d thought at the time - but here he frickin’ is, grateful he’d done it anyway.

And now you’ve got your pretty tits in his face, just a layer of fabric away - maybe one of those pathetic little bras underneath, like it could protect you from his teeth if he wanted to get at ‘em. He can hear your heartbeat: a little throbbing thud drumming against your breastbone, picking up speed.

You tilt into him, pressing your soft mouth to the crown of his head, then curl at your waist and dip your face so you can drop another kiss at the corner of his mouth. He shudders. You reach into that glowing space above your solar plexus, and draw up all your courage like a shimmery champagne-silver filament of light. You spool it into the base of your throat and then thread it into your words, your voice.

“Okay,” you tell him. “Let’s do something to deserve them.” You fight to keep your breath steady, but it’s already shivering and silvered, soft as moth wings. You try to mask it with a wink. “All the dirty looks and woeful lectures.”

@evolvingchaoswitch ♡ @wren-phoenix ♡ @pretty-chips ♡ @suicidalshitstick

[open-hangar]

New Akkadian Lore Yushamin Ep. 22

SABBI VOLUNTEER RECORDS

باسم الحياة العظيم، عندما نجتمع معًا تحت النجوم اللامتناهية بأيدٍ وقلوبٍ مفتوحة

Name: Ahmad Dawoud

Place of Origin: [REDACTED]

Birth Date: [REDACTED]

Height and Weight: [UNIMPORTANT]

Assignment: Ashurbanipal Special Protection Unit [WHY ARE YOU ASKING] Unit Gim or anything else it’s fine

Etc.: Access is not limited. He’s good at his job, don’t worry about it.

Ahmad was always disappointed that the elevator didn’t have music. Elevators are supposed to have music, right? Cute, inoffensive songs that go in and out of your head while you’re not paying attention. Slipping through your mind while you assume it was always supposed to. He always appreciated that.

“Hey, computer?”

As the elevator the teen boy was riding slid ever downward, the computer that tracked everything gave a slight “beep” to acknowledge him.

“Can I get a little tune?”

“Invalid command.”

“Maybe ‘Spanish Flea’ by Herb Alpert.”

“Invalid command.”

“But not their version, a version with the lyrics. I always liked the lyrics.”

“Invalid command.”

“Gosh, you’re no fun. It goes like, ‘There was a little Spanish flea, a record star he thought he’d be,’ you know the rest, right?”

“Invalid command. Now arriving at [REDACTED BY SABBI]”

“Wow, they even redact the announcements. Oh well, open up please.”

The standard laser light show flashes through the inside of the elevator, and the computer claims, “One occupant detected. Provide identification.”

Ahmad playfully gives a show of patting his pockets and trying to find his ID lanyard before shrugging. “Oops, guess I forgot it in my other pants.”

A click. A whir. Another click. A few beeps that nobody has ever heard that computer make before. And then, suddenly,

“Khamala Habib confirmed.”

The teen snaps his fingers as he leaves the elevator, and makes a clicking sound with his mouth. “Thanks, baby doll. Stay sexy.”

“Invalid command.”

Ahmad had arrived on a section of the Library that a very small select few knows exists, and even fewer have clearance for. It is primarily an empty space which was once shaped like a massive egg, but now has been rebuilt and repurposed. Its sole use is to now hold the glass dome that contains what Ahmad only knows is referred to as the PCB, and must be eliminated for the good of the true inheritors of the planet. He, however, is interrupted by a loud gunshot.

Ahmad reaches around to his back, and feels the burning hole in the back of his shirt, and then sticks a finger into the new hole where his spine would be. He then checks his front to see if there’s an exit wound. Nope, the bullet’s still in there. “Well, now, that’s just rude.” He turns around to face his attacker and sees Rami in a cleansuit, holding a pistol pointed at him. “You’re not taking another step closer to that dome.”

“Rami, my man! My guy! You know I’d love to play those little adult games you like to play, but unfortunately I-”

Another gunshot, this time in Ahmad’s chest. The bullet slips past where his sternum would be and cleanly wedges somewhere where a lung would be expected.

The teen’s look of understanding, like most of his expressions, carries a bit of irony behind it, but this time it also carries a small hint of anger. “Yeah, I get it, okay? You’re angry that I seduced Waheeda when you had a thing for her. She’s way too young for you, but you know, feelings are feelings, right? So how about you quit wasting my time with those bullets.”

Rami’s bloated figure walks towards Ahmad, unafraid. “The bullets are laced with weaponized chargon. You’ll be dead soon.”

“No, they aren’t,” Ahmad replied with zero hesitation. “I know you ran out of weaponized chargon with Ptahil. Even if you brought in every Lanzer in the solar system and had them fart on me simultaneously, it wouldn’t stop me.”

Walking backwards with his eyes still on his former handler, he explains, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my genetic coding is telling me to let whatever’s in this glass dome out. Toodles!”

Rami’s mind raced. He had to find a way to stall him for a little longer, no matter what. “Wait, you don’t even know? You’re just going off instinct?”

“Heh, yeah! Duh, same as you, same as everyone. We all work our asses off to stay alive. It’s all to eat healthy food, sleep in a safe space, meet a good mate.” He then smirks. “Although in your case, that last one has some unique caveats.”

Another gunshot.

“Okay, okay, I’m done with the age difference jokes. Look, my point is that it doesn’t matter why I know that breaking your little glass dome is better for the planet. I just do. I’m sure you think it sucks for your little dead-end species, but it’s better for everyone else. Just lay back and let it happen.”

Rami continues to follow the boy. “But how do you know? What if what’s in there spells the end for you, too?”

Ahmad squints. “You’re funny. You think you can trick me with words. Alright, I’ll bite. Tell me what’s in there.”

The adult sighs. This might be the only way to stop him. “Computer. Disable outer film.”

A loud beep cuts through the stale, empty air, followed by a curt “Confirmed.”

The glass dome’s glossy exterior shimmers and disappears, showing its contents. A single vaguely humanoid figure, glowing bright green with a purple interior. With the film gone, the entire room seems to fill with a burning radiation, and the walls glow bright with prismatic paint and etchings, filling the space with a blinding light.

“There it is. The Primordial Chargon Being. The origin of all life on our planet. And now that the film is gone, I can’t step any closer without throwing years of my life away, even in this cleansuit. Have at it.”

Ahmad could only look with astonishment. “Adam…” The figure seems afraid, almost cowering from him. It’s impossible to view any sort of emotion on the figure, but it definitely is afraid. The teen presses his hands against the glass, and begins to pound on it, weaker and weaker as his energy is drained away. He is rightfully confused, a simple manmade structure should crumple under the strength of any Uthra. “But…” He slides to the ground, tired.

The teen lifts his shirt, and sees his torso liquidizing. If one were to squint, they would likely see the squirming mass carrying his consciousness wither and die as they turn into puddles of waste chargon. With every death, Ahmad can feel it becoming harder to think, to focus, to understand what’s going on around him.

“We extracted the weaponized chargon from Aleph’s blood. We can rebuild everything, no matter how many of you keep coming. Mankind cannot, will not let you win.”

The dying Uthra could only chuckle as he coughed up what was blood to him. “Yeah, but I know how you are. Even if we give up, you can’t keep sleeping dogs lie. You’re sitting on a ticking time bomb… and you know it.”

His eyes close and open slowly, his breaths slow.

“One more thing, though… Do me a favor… Tell Waheeda… I really did want to try her cookies.”

Art by @nebularobo

[queermania]

I think you don't really understand what it's like to be an adult that grew up with your bodily autonomy repeatedly violated and in a situation of extreme psychological abuse. Those types of things warp your experiences when you're an adult. Sam had his autonomy violated as an infant and it colors everything that happens to him after. He spends the rest of his life trying to regain his autonomy and it's understandable that there are times he would want to give-up because that's how that kind of abuse warps your brain. He should be able to be open about that without having his autonomy taken away.

1. you are making assumptions about my life and my experiences simply because i have not come to the same conclusion about something as you have. but you have no idea what experiences have shaped the way i approach this issue. and frankly, it's a little insulting that you think you do.

2. your experiences and your feelings about those experiences do not change what is actually happening to you. they influence how you react to what is happening to you. the fact that sam had his autonomy violated at any given point in time does not mean that it's happening again every single time something bad happens to him.

3. there's this concerning view that a lot of sam stans seem to have that because sam was a victim when he was a baby, he is now and forevermore a victim in perpetuity. he has no personhood and it's not possible for him to ever have any agency. he is tainted and he's going to spend the rest of his life repenting for something that happened to him. and you know, i kind of get it, because that is clearly how sam feels about the situation. but that doesn't make it the truth.

and if that's something you relate to, that's great! it's wonderful to find characters and stories that we see pieces of ourselves in. but i hope one day you're in a safe enough place, both mentally and materially, that you are able to accept that a.) you don't need to repent for the things that were done to you b.) no matter what's been done to you (or even what you've done), you are still a person deserving of all the love and respect that everyone else is and c.) your past traumas do not absolve you from your current and/or future choices.

4. it sounds like you're implying that sam should be able to follow through on suicidal thoughts and it's a violation of his autonomy that other people (usually dean) prevent that. this is a very complex issue in the real world where a lot of people feel like they can't be open about their struggles for fear of being locked up (in places that absolutely do violate your autonomy) and i sympathize with that. but we're talking about a fantasy show where sam's suicidal ideations were the effects of what was more or less a supernatural curse.

and even if that wasn't true, i still don't think letting someone die because they think it's the only way they can ever make up for the things that have happened to them (or even the things they've done) is... okay? people deserve the chance to get better, even when that seems like an impossibility, and not letting someone take that chance away from themselves is not a bad thing.

now, if you want to talk about the state of mental health care in the world, let's talk about that. but you're never going to convince me that letting someone give in to their most self-destructive impulses is how you respect their agency.

5. i just want to reiterate that nobody is saying that sam's autonomy isn't violated at various points throughout the show. the argument was that it's not violated any more than any of the other main characters, despite the fandom treating it as a sam-specific issue. that's literally it.

[killuachii]

The fleeting feeling of unreached happiness.

Keita's pov

I was happy once. I was the happiest person that has ever existed. I was so happy that I couldn't feel any other emotion. But that feeling went away. Now I am nothing more than a shadow of the past. A faint memory. And if I'm being honest, it will stay like that for a while.

I don't understand who friend or foe is. I don't understand who my loved ones are. I don't understand anything anymore. The moment I trust, I will get hurt. But at the same time, the moment I don't trust, I hurt others. I can never win in a life like this. Are the feelings of others justified? Or are they just going with what the masses say? I can't help but put my words to pen and dedicate letters to each and one of my feelings.

To the happiness I have loved

I have always seen myself as someone that doesn't look good with sadness on them, so I tried my best to show people my happy sides. Maybe they will get happy too once they see me? I love to make others happy but would there be someone out there who would want to make me happy? That's what I have been wondering. Everyone deserves happiness and it shouldn't be something that you should earn first. I want to wake up with a smile and go to sleep with it. I want to live with that smile and die with it.

I got lost on the tracks and finally lost something that was very dear to me - the happiness I have loved so dearly. Now every moment I live is not livable anymore. Now everything has turned grey for me and I don't know if I'll be able to see the colours of life again. Right now I am just a waste of space. A waste of potential and a wasted life.

My loved ones are turning to shapes. I can't recognize them anymore. This is why I lost my trust.

To the trust that got away

Living a life for your own sounded great at first but soon I realised I needed people around me. People who I could trust, that I could love and support and do anything for them. But once my beloved happiness slipped through my hands, I let go of my trust.

I didn't know who I was and I didn't know who they were. Did they want to hurt me? Or did they really care about me? Everything in me is a riddle. There is no key for the lock in my heart. There is no sunshines and clear skies in my head. All that consumes me now are dark skies and chains. I feel captured. Captured by my inability to trust. Captured by all these thoughts that are mocking me. Mocking my being and anything related to it. I don't feel human anymore. When I look in the mirror I see nothing. There is no person looking at me anymore. I am met with words of disgust, words I never wished to hear.

This is when the fear in me started. A fear that is too heavy to put into words.

To the fear that consumes me

When I stopped being human, that's when the fear took over me. I can't recognize anything anymore. Who loves me and who hates me? Who will be there for me and who will just point and laugh? When times get rough who is the person I can count on? When I don't want to exist, who will tell me they need my light? These are the thoughts that hinder me from realising who is my friend and who wants me dead.

Would you miss me if I disappear? Or were you waiting for it to happen? Do you see me as a loved one or do you think of me as disposable? The fear won't let me think straight. I started to become afraid of everything. I am afraid of people, afraid of objects, afraid of myself. I am just a wasted human, I have no use in this life anymore and that's what I fear the most. As a wasted life it's easier to end it all - nobody would care regardless.

But could I ever do something like this to myself? Could I just end it all and release this damned existence?

To myself

I have loved you. I have always loved you and still do. Please never forget that. You are my light and my darkness. If you die, I won't exist anymore. I love you more than anything else and I am so sorry to you. When people don't see the wars you have fought, I do. When you start crying, I will wipe your tears away. Nobody knows your pain, but I do. And I love you for your pain, your fear and your happiness. Please don't kill the light that lights me up. I know it's hard but you are not alone. If no one is there, I will and I'll do anything for you.

I have loved you through so many years and many years to come. I will love you in your life and your death. Don't worry about things that lay out of your control. If they refuse to understand your feelings, I always will. I will wait for you happily. I will care for you. Just please never forget that if the world decides to hate you, I will always love you. The journeys we had, the fights we had, the pain we shared and the happiness we shared will always be embedded in our history together.

I believe that with you I can make a change. With you I will find happiness.

To the future

The future seems so distant but yet I can grasp it. I am sure that there will be good things ahead, I have someone I can trust again, someone I can love again, someone that makes me human. The world doesn't stop for me, it goes on and so will my life. If I keep spiraling in thoughts of unhappiness I will never be happy. I want to make a change. I deserve the life that has been taken away from me. I deserve to be happy.

There are still some steps I have to take to truly be happy. But the most important thing is myself. There is no one that shares the same pains as me just like myself. So I have to take care of us. Both my physical self and my spiritual self deserve to see a life behind all the darkness. Behind the fog that has been suffocating me. Nobody can give me the life I yearn for but myself.

I am thankful for myself and the ones that didn't get away. The ones that after all the battles lost could still love me and care for me. If no one else is willing to love me, they will and I am thankful for all of them. Thank you for seeing my light and believing in it.

∆∆∆

Hello guys! In this story we follow Keita through his own battles with his mind. At first he seems to struggle with the image of himself and labeling him as "a waste", who is unable to feel loved but after a while Keita realizes that the only person that can make him feel the love that he deserves is himself! He starts realising that there always will be a person waiting for him at home, even if it's just himself!

Thank you for reading! o7

[graph100]

is it just me or does gamedev youtube kinda suck? like, its all the most generic sounding people making uninteresting indie games and having nothing super interesting to say. like idk, maybe its just me. the only people who i really like are randy and miziziziz, but even some of miziziziz's stuff leans toward generic indie stuff, hes just different enough in attitude and method that i can watch him. everyone else just feels so samey.

nobody's doing anything that feels original. like yeah they all have their great ideas and such, but theres nothing interesting going on.

i have this theory about how we think about our creative projects. as humans, we naturally make categories for things. we do it for everything. it helps us process things. when we make art, we either start with an idea from a category or genre and expand from there, for fit the idea into a category or make something specific of that category. it feels like gamedev youtube is just making things to fit the "game" shaped hole

I kinda feel this way with indie games as a whole. like in the 2000's and 2010's all of the sudden it became super easy for individuals and small teams to make games, and they fucking ran with that. then later on in the 2010's and 2020's we formed this idea of what "indie game" means and started making "indie games", and its dragged innovation to a halt.

maybe im just salty because im super picky with what i like but i seriously think that there is so much more that we could be doing as a whole that a lot of people dont see.

I was watching this video essay about detention (a game by the same people who made that game that got banned because it had whinnie the pooh as xi jinping) and the essayist was talking about games that have similar energy to silent hill. he brought up signalis, and admitted that he thought the game was similarly good, but said that it wasn't as great because it was clear that it was inspired by/a spiritual successor to silent hill, and that detention fit his criteria for "silent hill like game" not because it tried to be silent hill, but because it was just as good as doing the same things as silent hill

this is where i think indie games fall flat; it feels like everyone is trying to make something like another game, instead of doing something new that is also great. I understand that inspiration is one thing, and that not all spiritual successors are bad, but it really leaves a sour taste in my mouth when I can really easily tell what the a game wanted to be, but didnt end up being.

I tried to word that kind of broadly, because not all of the games i dislike try to emulate one game or a specific set of games, but some seem like they try to emulate a certain style of art or game that they cant do.

I just thing that we need to learn to move on from the past and make new things that are great.

Another gripe I have with gamedev youtube is that they come up with game ideas that fit labels. whenever i see a devlog video they always introduce their game as a set of itch.io tags. I know this is good for like publicity or whatever, but their game ideas are entirely based around these boxes that we need to think outside of; labels come second.

Look at doom for example. It's possibly the greatest game of all time. When it came out in 1993, nobody called it like we did now because they didn't have the term "first person shooter". In ahoy's video on what genre is doom, he shows that it was advertised as a virtual reality action game. That term is wayyy worse at describing what doom is, but thats because doom was so different than other games.

rant over (for now)

[alittlefrenchtree]

Do you think Taylor's acting is good?

Omg i’ve been dying to answer to this question since I got it and I’m so happy to finally have the time.

I think it’s very interesting and layered so I’m going to try to be as coherent as possible.

For reference, I’ve watched, The Kissing Booth 2, The Kissing Booth 3, 1Up and of course, Red White and Royal Blue. I don’t plan to watch anything else from his past filmography but I’m looking forward for what the future brings for him.

Sooooo where to start? 

I met him with Alex, so let’s start with Alex. Unlike many, I was more pulled in and hooked by his performance than I was with Nick’s one. (Not saying Taylor’s better than Nick (nor the other way around), let me finish) 

I very much agree with Matthew (one thing we agree on at least 🤓) when he said that Taylor became Alex when Nick was carefully holding Henry and protecting him. Taylor was so organic as Alex I was almost immediately on board with him. For me, it was everything to do with the sincerity and heart with which he played him, rather than being an award worthy performance or not. It wasn’t perfect but it was perfectly Alex so it was good. And I suspect the very few of my issues with it would fall on the directing and the editing of it rather than Taylor’s work.

To touch a bit on the subject of Henry and Nick. I’ve danced around Nick’s performance a little bit more (with ups and downs) and I’m starting to understand that it was more because of who Henry is as a character and less about Nick’s acting. The performance is growing on me (Nick is also grown on me, so it also helps) and I have good hope that, if when we get a sequel, it would be even better on my side.

Getting to know a bit more of Taylor after that, I wondered if, the reason why he was such a good Alex was because Alex was mainly… Taylor with a few additions. Part of that is true and even if it doesn’t made the job particularly easier, it still asks questions of his ability to play someone who isn’t him at all (even if imo everyone can find an angle to every character but it’s another debate for another time). But there are few details in his performance as Alex that gives a lot of hope about his ability to be subtle about things. Like Taylor and Alex have the same kind of energy but he has adjusted it to feel more young than his own. They’re both confident but in very different ways. So even the things that are him, he has shaped them to be right for Alex. 

Outside of Alex, I actually like him in TKB2 and TKB3. It helps that the main couple of the movie is so dumb and nobody is actually rooting for them but it was really easy to take Marco side (his character introduction was the most hilarious thing I’ve seen in a long time) and Taylor was a good Marco. But it’s kind of hard to see if an actor is good with a role like Marco. You can see if someone is bad (so you can see Taylor isn’t) but it’s hard to see how good he can be.

1UP was basically useless, so we can’t say anything about that. I hadn’t even planned to watched it but it was about esport (or at least it tried to be about esport) so it got me extra curious but it has nothing in it so 😂 Taylor was brought there to be gorgeous and intolerable and he was gorgeous and intolerable so job done I guess? 

All of that being said, I think the most important part of his answer is that Taylor is just starting. He has just started and he has so little worthy to be judged on, it’s almost too early to answer the question. Like I was saying in a previous ask, a lot of how he’s going to develop as an actor will be up to the people (directors, mostly) he’ll be working with and I’m impatient to see the choices he’ll make.

Thank you so much for asking this question, I had a good time digging into my thought about this :) 💜

[cr1mson5returns]

Unpublished Excerpt: Leaving Catholicism Over Identity

Consider that you have an immutable, inherent quality about you that impacts everything about how you see the world, how you relate to others, and even how you relate to yourself. It can’t be wished away, it can’t be ignored, and it comes out at the most inopportune times when others feel inclined to judge and ridicule and make light of you over it. When you think about the future, it’s shaped by this quality; when you think about the past, it’s always been there, even if you couldn’t see it at first. You never chose this quality–indeed, it came to you quite like a personality trait or a cat dander allergy–but people insist that you can just not do the thing and that you should, in fact, not do the thing so that your eternal soul doesn’t suffer in flames forever. In all of this, you’re left wondering why it had to be you when you tried so hard to be good, to be something else, and yet it never worked. You could never shake that quality that left you so outside the norm, so outcast and othered. You wonder, silently, sincerely, if God even hears you when you cry out. You wonder most of all if everyone else is right about you.

This is what it feels like to be gay in a non-affirming church community. This is what drove me away from the Catholic religion. It wasn’t a desire to do bad things with no consequences, or a desire to rebel against my family, or any of those tropes. It was a sincere search of my soul in which I realized that I couldn’t just not be a lesbian, that I couldn’t just wish away all the parts of me that longed for the touch of a woman. I had tried for so long to be interested in men, I had struggled for years to just fake it until I made it, and I had to realize that it just wasn’t possible. Maybe other people could find a way to ignore some piece of themselves, but for me, it was immutable. It was non-negotiable. It was also something that, evidently, qualified me as worthy of eternal damnation unless I followed a very specific set of rules that nobody else had to follow.

I understand very well that life isn’t fair. Two suicide attempts and many years of non-suicidal self-injury taught me that life doesn’t grind to a halt just because you want it to, just because you can’t take it anymore. But something in me protested at the thought of being celibate forever. I wanted companionship like everyone else had the opportunity to have, I wanted to be with someone I loved and who loved me in return, and I was supposed to believe that was…what, sinful? That it was a disordered desire in the eyes of the Catholic Church? I couldn’t hack it. It wasn’t an issue of sin; it was an issue of being able to live with myself.

I’m also quite familiar with the red letters in Matthew 16:24 that read, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” It seems pretty simple from the outside, doesn’t it? Every good Christian has to deny their flesh; every good Christian has to take up their cross, and homosexuality is yours! But the unfairness sunk in, and the lack of compassion, and the true misunderstanding. I could deny my flesh for things that actually hurt me–and I know that because I had done it every single time I ever thought about taking a razor to my skin just to prove how worthless I really was. But wanting to feel loved, wanting to give that love in every possible way, wanting to grow old with a woman who cared about me…did that hurt anyone, least of all me?

Sure, there’s also the whole thing about sexuality existing for procreation. But nobody was stopping infertile straight people from getting married. Nobody was revoking the marriage licenses of couples who sought out fertility treatment, or adopted, or went childless because of the struggle. Besides, why was the sex I was having or not having the dominant point of the conversation, anyway? The thing about being gay is that it’s not just about who you want to bang; it’s about who you want to spend your life with, who you love, who brings you joy and receives the joy you put out into the world.

I had tried so hard to be anything other than homosexual. I really did. But it wasn’t happening, and it wasn’t happening because it wasn’t possible. Maybe other people could watch a piece of themselves wither away in hopelessness and be fine with it, but I couldn’t. Is that so sinful in the end?

[jujurose222]

Page of Swords

I can’t handle crying about it anymore, I need to seize. I just want to die. Yet I don’t ever want to make you feel guilty. I hold myself back because I feel guilty loving you. Even though you wasted no time before claiming her. Like I never existed.

Do you not see my dilemma? If you ever actually wanted me you would genuinely have to dedicate the rest of your life to pleasing me.

You know I say that, but it’s not true because I’d drop everything for you in a heartbeat.

I’ve had multiple chances to date guys, but I dodge them every time because I feel it’s unfair of me to entertain it, especially when I know I’d drop them in a heart beat for you. I feel genuinely guilty because I can’t lie to myself.

I have morals. I dont know if you really know anything about that?

I can’t ever tell you how bad you haunt my mind. You’d just have to experience it. You haven’t left for one minute. Even the ONE time I distracted myself. The one guy I fucked and I realized how much I hated casual sex.

I’m not casual. You took my virginity because I fell in love with you. I’m not mad you did. But I’m mad I never got to actually experience your cock. I’M SHY.

Instead you waste it.

You don’t even know true pleasure, I’ll guarantee you that. And you won’t know it until you embarrass yourself for me.

I want her to feel like I have had to feel for the past 2 years.

I don’t understand and I think God is getting fed up of my asking why.

Maybe you need validation so bad, but what about me? You think I don’t need validation? What did you ever do to validate me? Nothing, and yet I’m still utterly in love with your being. I’M CONFUSED AS TO WHY.

I don’t want to be. I really hope you know that. I wish I could forget you. I really really really do. I wish my mind could be scrubbed. I dream of being a child because it was before you.

But that’s like denying myself. I can’t do that. I mentally can’t lie to myself. Just like I can never forget anything.

Remembering everything and being completely honest, sounds good, but it’s a terrible terrible reality. Just like my mom, the HR rep. Nobody likes HR.

NOBODY likes HR.

Dont ever claim to be a knight in shining armor. I am a princess. You are not a knight though. You are a page.

A pathetic fucking page of swords.

And instead of fighting for me, you have put me in the ring. I am the one in competition. I HAVE BEEN PUT IN THE KNIGHT POSITION.

I am supposed to be the Princess. YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO FIGHT SUITORS FOR ME. But lucky for you, I fight all my own suitors. So you just sit around and watch me, doing nothing.

Imagine this, you are a 16 year old girl. All your friends are racking up a body count and making fun of you for being a virgin. It’s cool though because you know, you’re not wasting the most precious thing you have. But then, you meet a dude who literally looks and talks like he walked out of your subconscious dreamscape, manifesting as everything you’ve ever desired. In seeing this, you think magic is real, because there’s no way, right? So you let him deflower you, yes I’m saying it that way, it’s corny but very very real. You have the tightest, most pure fucking flower, one that is like a trophy to a whore. You let him claim it, like some king of the jungle, the male lion gets as many women as he wants. And if the female gets fucked by someone else, his dick is specially shaped to scoop the cum of another man out. He’s so magical, you expect him to stop being a whore for you, he’s too perfect. So perfectly magical it makes you have unrealistic expectations I guess.

But I don’t think it’s that unrealistic.

I think I just expected a magical man, to act magical. But instead he acts like a big fat meanie.

You confuse my heart and mind. Because my heart loves you. My mind hates you.

How am I supposed to heal the mind and soul connection when you’re all I think about?

“I just need validation that bad.” At the expense of my happiness?

Why won’t you do anything for me?

What did I do wrong? Where did I go wrong? Why me God?

I’m not okay. I want to be, but I don’t know how.

It’s almost 6 in the morning and I want to sleep but I’m scared and sad and it’s because of the boy I met.

I’m so confused.

If you loved me you’d tell her you did, you’d drop everything for me.

If you loved me you would ruin your fake ass pathetic 2 year relationship for me.

You would tell her that I’m the only one you want.

So you must not love me.

And unfortunately I’m not going anywhere. Well unless you’d tell me to fuck off, but then that would mean you read this. And if I knew you read it, well then, I’d know you care so much to the point you’ve got access to my secret tumblr.

My secret tumblr I only put out for you, because no one else cares enough to click the link might I add.

You put me in this competition and I will win. The prize isn’t you, it’s happiness.

I’m going to be happier than her if it’s the last thing I do, and you can join me or not.

But if you plan on joining me then I want to see her whole identity crumble. And I don’t feel bad about it. I’m tired of feeling guilty, she stole you from me. I have nothing to feel guilty about.

I know, I don’t really own you. But she sure as hell acts like she owns you. Mr. “I’m so independent.” No you’re not. And being a whore is being utterly dependent.

I’m independent and it will stay that way until I die.

You can join me, or you can be codependent the rest of your life.

If you join me, I already have my scalpel, and I’ve been sharpening it. No one is better suited for that job, believe me.

I would never scrape mucus off anyone else’s brain, because I don’t make false promises. And I would never ruin memories of songs by showing them to my fake lover.

You don’t love her. If you loved her, you wouldn’t have treated her the way you do.

If you loved me you wouldn’t have treated me this way.

You can’t love because you hate yourself.

Please prove me wrong. You never will. And I will never get to use this scalpel that I bought for apparently no reason.

I’ve given up hope.

And yet I’ll be writing about it tomorrow because you’re my muse.

What do you do when your muse is a piece of shit??????

You keep being independent and suffering. You force yourself to do hard things, as you tell yourself, ��you’re being punished so just fucking do it and do it right.”

I’m going to win the competition, I’m going to get smarter, stronger and more aware. I can’t, not perceive it as a competition. But I can use that fact to my advantage.

You’re not the prize. My fucking powerful ass self is.

Maybe I become so powerful I get over you and cuckold you. Until then I could never do that, because I unfortunately want you inside me. The thought of someone else inside me makes me sick.

Whatever, keep hurting me. I can handle it. I’ll tell you that much. You’re turning me into a diamond. A diamond you won’t be able to afford.

I would much rather be alone than be her. But that doesn’t mean I don’t fantasize about it.

Just saying, in reality, I’m really glad I’m not her. I would be really embarrassed to call you my boyfriend.

Very very embarrassed.

[000life-is-meaningless000]

Society is Dead, in the past

life was sacred but in the modern day era life is not sacred and humanity is wild completely obsessed and insane with lust.

you can go anywhere on the internet human beings have lost their collective minds and see nothing wrong with lust if nothing wrong with it and pedophilia is starting to tick up and popularity some way somehow ?

🙁

I don't understand, it . . .

😡

we no longer have a society of human beings we have a collection of mass.

they may have human Souls but they're so riding so corrupted and so corroded those that the vast majority of people on this planet Are Not Human they're humanoid they're so fucking corrupted they're not human anymore they like these fucking monsters they know they've lost their Humanity long time ago I wonder if they were even human most are fucking life they could have been human for just a couple of decades or a decade and a half and then after that they turn into fucking monster's, when a human becomes that fucking corrupted they're no longer human they lost their Humanity they still they still reside and have the shape and the image of a human being but have no Humanity not everything that looks human is human.

they are monsters, they're obsessed with sex they're obsessed with lost they're obsessed with greed they're obsessed with envy they're obsessed with every deadly sin existence they're obsessed with everything they're all so obsessed with twisting all truths taking everything out of context, obsessed with fighting & pinning as many red flags on other people as possible & people have Gone batshit crazy for Pride !

people are egotistical as fuck and proud I'm not even a fucking Christian and I can see this shit everywhere people have lost or collect a fucking minds and many people actively worship the Beast !

in the past worshiping the Beast was just a rebellious thing to the church because they were insufferable pricks and they were everywhere

they did everything they could to control your fucking life they were horrible they suppressed everything in culture and they try to do everything they can to take control of your life seeing you and attack you as much as possible but then again they were that also would Cause so many Denominations of Christianity to splinter off from each other !

another thing I want to let you know is that, ever notice how truth and intelligence is never popular in society only the stupid shit I'm not even saying conspiracy theories because they're not necessarily A Bad Thing conspiracy theories often are proven right it's always the dumbest shit that is popular with the masses which always proves that the masses are fucking stupid !

the Earth is fucking flat is so fucking popular it just proves that Humanity has lost their mind both insanity and intelligence and in wisdom

the vast majority of humanity no longer has any three of those things and now they don't even have fucking dignity or honor

Society is dead and the reason the faculty that that the humanity keeps speeding up constantly polluting the Earth and in massively all the companies every one of the obsessed when chasing an artificial resource called money nobody cares about anybody else love is 100% fucking dead nobody gets a fuck about anybody else people are doing ungodly things that children all the fucking time

children die in a record rate now not because of thickness or disease or famine but because of people wanting to kill children sacrifice them throw them in the fucking ovens stab them with knives experiment them with with drugs they go Missing 411 they get killed and organ harvested & Andrea Chrome !

we don't live in a society anymore I don't even want to call it a mental asylum we live in hell I mean we quite literally live in hell

Earth has become Tartarus there is no more Society Society died a long time ago it died around the time when the internet was being created

people do drugs and massive people have no shame people are proud people are boastful people are this people are that people scoff of God people are atheist people are profane people look at all things spiritual and stupidity people look at the intelligent the wise they look down upon that piece of shit and treat them as so

people constantly tell the intelligent to kill themselves the wise to kill themselves the religious to kill themselves and anybody who's who's actually a decent person they just trashed them as much as possible people hit them with paragraphs of literal pure insults

shit talking as much as possible hitting them with much hate mankind no longer has love in their heart all they have is hate

the entertainment of mankind is not telling stories bonding over a campfire watching TV the entertainment of Monday era is virtually murdering each other in Mortal Kombat or some kind of PVP player versus player which is really just violence against another person and the person who kills the more people in the video game is the winner

😡

HOW THE FUCK IS THAT ENTERTAINMENT !?

we live in a society that really loves to play as much player versus player content in front of you they want to make you as competitive as possible to attack other people there's no more love there's no more Bob there's no more uniting among mankind there's no honor in society is no sanity there's no respect and there's no fucking shame

but then again people will love to shame normal everyday things people love to shame constantly though people have no shame for acting bad but those that act bad have no problem with shaming it when I was around them for everyday normal fucking things

if all societies corrupted all the corporations are corrupted all the government's corrupted it's not that the government is evil is that humanity is corrupted

Humanity has gone bad, JUST LIKE THE FUCKING BIBLE WARNED US

I'm not a Christian but the Bible is right I'm not a Catholic and I still know the Bible is ironically right I didn't think the Bible was anything more than a stupid book of fables and hear the Bible is completely right constantly I never understood the Bible and now I can see the Bible was telling the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth

🙁

most of my life I knew the Bible is bullshit now I know I was full of shit and the Bible with nothing but true shit

Real Shit, the Bible never spoke no bullshit

🙁 . . . . . 🙏🏻

&

&

&

&

I RAN OUT A LINK SPACE

😡

So, Now !

I'm just going to fucking post that damn thing from the Bible !

Zephaniah 1:15

That day will be a day of wrath— a day of distress and anguish, a day of trouble and ruin, a day of darkness and gloom, a day of clouds and blackness—

Zephaniah 1:17 

New International Version

“I will bring such distress on all people that they will grope about like those who are blind, because they have sinned against the LORD. Their blood will be poured out like dust and their entrails like dung.

THERE ARE MANY OTHER VERSIONS OF THE SAME TEXT ! ! !

New Living Translation

“Because you have sinned against the LORD, I will make you grope around like the blind. Your blood will be poured into the dust, and your bodies will lie rotting on the ground.”

English Standard Version

I will bring distress on mankind, so that they shall walk like the blind, because they have sinned against the LORD; their blood shall be poured out like dust, and their flesh like dung.

Berean Standard Bible

I will bring such distress on mankind that they will walk like the blind, because they have sinned against the LORD. Their blood will be poured out like dust and their flesh like dung.

King James Bible

And I will bring distress upon men, that they shall walk like blind men, because they have sinned against the LORD: and their blood shall be poured out as dust, and their flesh as the dung.

New King James Version

“I will bring distress upon men, And they shall walk like blind men, Because they have sinned against the LORD; Their blood shall be poured out like dust, And their flesh like refuse.”

😐 - Humanity, You Fucking Deserve it !

I post this picture here just in case you don't fucking believe me

😡 - THE PROPHECY IS NOT DONE, READ THE REST OF THE PASSAGES !

Zephaniah 1:18 

New International Version

Neither their silver nor their gold will be able to save them on the day of the LORD’s wrath.” In the fire of his jealousy the whole earth will be consumed, for he will make a sudden end of all who live on the earth.

New Living Translation

Your silver and gold will not save you on that day of the LORD’s anger. For the whole land will be devoured by the fire of his jealousy. He will make a terrifying end of all the people on earth.

English Standard Version

Neither their silver nor their gold shall be able to deliver them on the day of the wrath of the LORD. In the fire of his jealousy, all the earth shall be consumed; for a full and sudden end he will make of all the inhabitants of the earth.

Berean Standard Bible

Neither their silver nor their gold will be able to deliver them on the Day of the LORD’s wrath. The whole earth will be consumed by the fire of His jealousy.” For indeed, He will make a sudden end of all who dwell on the earth.

King James Bible

Neither their silver nor their gold shall be able to deliver them in the day of the LORD'S wrath; but the whole land shall be devoured by the fire of his jealousy: for he shall make even a speedy riddance of all them that dwell in the land.

New King James Version

Neither their silver nor their gold Shall be able to deliver them In the day of the LORD’s wrath; But the whole land shall be devoured By the fire of His jealousy, For He will make speedy riddance Of all those who dwell in the land.

😡 - GOD IS, NOT ! ! !

FUCKING AROUND ! ! ! ! !

😡 - THIS IS LITERALLY WHAT THE EARTH IS GOING TO END UP LOOKING LIKE, LITERALLY !

[astertimberwolf]

If there's something I've learnt in life, it's that hurt people... Hurt people.

Maybe they've never felt what true, heartfelt, unconditional love is like.

Maybe nobody taught them to show empathy and be kind, despite their personal issues overwhelming them...

Whichever the case may be, I do try to give people the benefit of the doubt. Sometimes excessively so... to my own detriment.

I'm a creature of strong, intense emotions. I sometimes still act on impulse and do stupid things when I panic or when anxiety overwhelms me... But I do not take my anger, sadness or resentment out on anyone else. No matter how much I've been through, have suffered- or am currently suffering. I made it my personal goal to try to cause the least amount of damage / suffering to people. Especially when they're not in a good mental state... I wish other people could pick up on this too.

Maybe I'm too empathetic and optimistically delusional for my own good. Maybe I should view the world and people in a much more cut and dry, cynical way... But I don't want to. I'm tired of living like that- of eliminating people's humanity, feelings, complexity and worth by oversimplifying them or the problem, deflecting blame- or assigning labels to people as if they were something static that will never change.

The world is full of colours. The world is filled with people suffering, all with their own unique struggles / hell-shaped frames of mind. I want to help people heal. I want to alleviate their- OUR collective suffering, but people who still think in extremes of black and white- who only rely on their anger and negative emotions... They are not going to understand. They are going to aplify their own suffering and everyone else's, with very little regard towards the consequences to their actions. It's a sign of immaturity, deeper issues... And probably negative reinforcement. Social and environmental exposure condition people to be like that.

It takes true courage to break out of that vicious cycle of indifference, brutality and negligence... To grow as an individual and put an end to the cycle of violence- the cycle of abuse people are stuck in.

I overcame my own trauma... By empathizing with the guy that r*ped me. By understanding what led him to do what he did. It doesn't mean I forgave him. It doesn't mean that my rage towards him wouldn't be there if I were to ever meet him again... But I understood- I saw through him- and I let all the memories flood back and fire up the excruciating pain, disgust, helplessness and terror that I had ran away from for so many years... And then I was free. As light as a feather. The invisible weight finally off my shoulders... Gone. I had healed.

...

Empathy can go a really long way. It's not a sign of weakness. It's a sign of maturity- of understanding. Being able to think beyond yourself and your own ego. A gift to see things for what they truly are.

...

My autism doesn't allow me to predict everything- or read social situations correctly. It makes me mess up more than I would be willing to admit. It has led to trauma being formed around social interactions. Trauma that I re-live on an emotional level due to CPTSD whenever similar situations develop that take me back to what I felt in the past situation that the present one is resembling.

I'm not the brightest, I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed by far... But I don't share my feelings online to garner "attention". I simply choose to perpetuate my own karma... So that people who cannot fathom being around me because of my past block and leave me, while those who remain and read what I write as a cautionary tale, might be dissuaded from making the same mistakes I did. I can be a living bad example so that someone else can learn.

This concept seems to escape a lot of younger generations' minds. Why? Maybe they didn't have the socialization they needed as a kid... and all they were ever exposed to was all the noise, hysteria and gut reactions people have on the internet. Nothing that ever effectively taught them how to adapt in life... And led them to develop social anxiety, anti-social traits, feelings of inadequacy and yearning for attention themselves, mistaking it for love- or worse yet: a way to feel accepted and feed their own ego / self-esteem.

All of this to say that- no... Nothing I ever said, did, posted or reblogged was ever done out of some twisted need for attention. This is just my way to exist in this chaotic-ass world.

I think, I overthink. I share, I overshare. I rant, I vent, I seek things that make me feel something, because I too have been hurt as a child. I too- did not have the support that I needed, when I needed it. I too- share the burden, the suffering that comes with life.

The only difference between me and a lot of other people out there, is that I have once felt unconditional love. I know what it looks like, feels like- and what it entails, as well as what it doesn't... And I lost it all way too soon.

The reason I am in love with Ruby Rose, a fictional character from the show RWBY? It's because she has all the hallmark traits of the person I lost so many years ago. She is brave, altruistic, empathetic, protective, understanding and caring... And most importantly, despite all the grief and weight she carries on her shoulders, she still finds the time to be there for other people, to be a good friend, a good leader- a sunshine of optimism and the glue that holds everyone together and makes them a family. Without Ruby, Weiss and Blake would have never gotten along. Yang and Blake would have likely never reconciled- because Weiss wouldn't have learnt that kindness, empathy and understanding from her that was needed to approach the situation with tact and slowly coax Yang into talking to Blake again.

Be more like Ruby. Learn to see others, understand them- feel them, instead of neglecting everything to try to save- or safeguard your own ego.

There is more to life than suffering.