#sorry we got behind on this

[thedaywemetcomic]

Chapter 2, Page 3

[genericpuff]

i find it funny that one of rachel’s drawings of herself in the afterword that just went up is just fully persephone. is that something she does a lot?

Alright so I've been making it a general rule for myself to like, not harp on Rachel in any way outside of LO as much because frankly the horse is dead now and there's not much left to say outside of what can be analyzed in hindsight. I think despite everything I have to say about her and her work, she still deserves to get away from this nonsense and I don't wanna spend eternity hovering over her shoulder.

But the afterword was posted within the LO series and is clearly meant for readers of LO in the functioning of being an afterword so let's just call it fair game LOL

I will say, on the whole, it does feel very honest and sentimental and I can respect Rachel for taking the time to write out and illustrate her afterword in a way that was personal to both her and her fans. I can understand why she went at it from the angle that she did and I'm not gonna fault her for that.

But there's also something that feels deeply... disingenuous about her approach right from the starting gun. I will say, before I continue, that I'm well aware I am biased towards Rachel as a creator, and I fully acknowledge that I could very well be reading too much into things. This is just my opinion, take it with mountains of salt.

I can get looking back on your own childhood, your past self, whatever, and going "see! it all got better!" because sure! For a lot of creators like Rachel, it must be wild to look back on where they came from and there's a lot of sentimentality on expressing that through an afterword like this where she reflects on where she came from. Though she STILL didn't acknowledge her other comics outside of LO, I can understand if she wants to leave those skeletons in the closet.

But I feel like her drawing herself as a child who's being given an Eisner by her adult self and all that just feels like some gross attempt to disarm any criticism of her because "don't make fun of me, I'm just a sad lonely baby girl!"

She's not a child. Child Rachel didn't grossly misappropriate Greek myth into their own self-indulged vanity project. Child Rachel didn't claim herself a folklorist of a culture's works only to bastardize them completely. Child Rachel didn't create a hostile environment within her fanbase by bullying anyone who she perceived as a threat, sneaking into critical spaces to try and cause trouble, and writing her own clapbacks into her comic. Child Rachel didn't claim to be challenging misogyny and purity culture only to reinforce misogyny and purity culture through her own self-insert baby-virgin-gets-rescued-by-rich-tycoon power fantasy that regularly glorified abuse towards women and the lower class.

30-almost-40-year-old Rachel did though.

At best it comes across as really cringe sentimentality from a Greek-weeb (heh, greeboo) and goes to show how much Rachel inserted herself into Greek myth without ever absorbing its messages or cultural contexts, it was all about her and her feelings as a sad New Zealand girl with dyslexia who thought Persephone's story was about another sad girl being rescued from her "horrible childhood".

At worst it's an active attempt to play on people's heartstrings by drawing herself as a child who people will naturally not want to criticize. I don't want to assume she's doing it intentionally, I really don't want to leave her afterword on a bad foot, as I can definitely understand as both a creator and a person who struggled with learning disabilities in their own childhood how and why she wants to pay homage to her past and where she came from... but let's just say, as someone who's also gotten way too "lost in the sauce" concerning personal self-reflective projects, I think there's a lot to say about how this confirms that Rachel made LO entirely for herself, about herself, without any actual intention to respect the original myths, because she never truly separated them from herself when she was a child. And, in my humble opinion as someone who has Been There with the self-insert OC's and self-reflective angsty plotlines, I can fully attest to the fact that that's not fucking healthy. Even with personal projects, you NEED to learn to get your head out of the sauce, you NEED to learn to objectively separate yourself from the narrative so the story doesn't fall apart under your own hubris and ego, you NEED to learn to draw a line if you want to have any sort of identity as a human being outside of what you make for people. And that's with just normal original stories, this was a story based on Greek myth which doesn't belong to her.

And this goes for a lot of the things she's said and done in the past, so much of her own "sources" even are tethered to things that she read / watched in her childhood and only vaguely remembers, as if she never mentally left her childhood at all, which just... if the point was to highlight her past and the traumas she went through and how they contributed to her present, an Eisner isn't going to validate those experiences. And drawing attention to her past through the lens of her childhood self absolutely 100% does not absolve her of the negative effect her work has had on the modern Greek myth zeitgeist nor the things she's said and done as a 38 year old woman who should absolutely know better.

The community she entered and took from will forever remain changed by her influence and taking, in many ways not for the better. She has the privilege of walking away and never having to think about it again, with all the awards and accolades that were bought for her, the bravado that she built around being a "folklorist" with zero credentials, and the platform she was given over many other creators struggling to even be heard.

That "place" she claims to have now was built entirely on inserting herself into another culture's works and doing nothing but taking, taking, taking, while offering nothing in return but vanity and lip service. That "place" was paid for and brought to you by Webtoons.

[fluffypotatey]

To be honest I am a huge Nalu shipper. But the thing is I want to know the difference between the way Natsu cares about his guildmates and Lucy. Like what is the obvious difference since that boy sees every as Nakama so how can we say that the wag he cares about Lucy is different?

Like even when Erza passed away? (All the way back in first season there was a segment where the guild was gathered at her grave and all) Natsu was still very reactive. Plus he was also said to be depressed even when Lisanna passed.

What's the difference between all of them and Lucy?

the fact that he stayed. the fact that before he met Lucy, Natsu wasn't one to stay in a group or even want to work with anyone besides Happy at the start of the story. hell, he was ready to just file Lucy down as "New Guildmate" once they reached Fairy Tail

but then, Lucy doesn't leave. she follows him on his mission to save Macao despite her not needing to or even really understanding everything about it. she stays and then fights with him and saves him. it's no secret that Natsu is strong and can take care of himself really well. he's been going on solo missions for years now, and no one has really stopped him, but that means he's been in a lot of sticky situations where he and Happy are on their own and have no backup. and yet, without asking, Lucy offers it

and i think this is the moment when Natsu considers that maybe it's okay to have someone there to have his back (sans Happy)

"but Natsu only needed Lucy for the next quest because of the requirements," well, Natsu also wouldn't have taken or even considered that quest if it weren't for Lucy, yeah? he was not a team player (in the picking job's sense) or really wanted other people to help him on his quests sans Happy. and then he goes and picks a job that caters to their team whilst ensuring that Lucy can't say no

or maybe i'm reading too much into it 🤷🏻‍♀️

or maybe Natsu's got horrible abandonment issues that he will latch onto people so fast (Igneel & Lisanna) but also cause him to distance himself so far when left behind (his 1st time at the guild, Lisanna's death). Erza and Gray are Natsu's closet friends after Lisanna and yet they cannot reach him when he closes himself off. and then we have Lucy, who stuck by and had his back, so who is to say Natsu didn't make some contingencies to ensure whether or not she'd join him?

but maybe it's the rose, colored ship glasses i have on

because yeah, Natsu cares for all of his guildmates. the power of friendship is his biggest motivator. when we meet Natsu, our first introductions of him is defending his guild's reputation from Bora (who was using it as a guise for human trafficking) and saving Macao. and our 1st big arc (Galuna Island), where Natsu adamantly refuses to allow Gray to use Ice Shell and sacrifice himself despite how antagonistic they've been to each other. we get Natsu 100% at Erza's defense throughout the Tower of Heaven and he is even ready to defend Wendy though they only met hours ago

Natsu is a character with a bleeding heart and cannot help but wear it on his sleeve, but we don't really see him allow others to fight his battles or have his back until Lucy comes in. to be honest, i don't even think he had his heart on his sleeve until Lucy. he still has a bleeding heart (i don't think anything could stop that), but he was not ready to be open in receiving company because he was so used to it being ripped away from him

that being said: of all the characters he interacts with, he finds Lucy to be someone compatible enough for him to start going on team missions and inviting her on them (for example, his 1st S-class mission, which he stole, he went to her house to show it to her. the fact that part of the reward was a celestial key might be a coincidence, but i wouldn't doubt it as Natsu and Happy's trump card in case she refused)

but yeah, the difference is that he stayed and didn't push her away at the beginning, but instead continued to invite her along with him to the point that doing a mission without Lucy wasn't his regular anymore. compared to the rest of the guild, of whom he spent most of his childhood with, even if he spoke to no one, they would still be around and talk to him anyway. he might not invite them on job and only challenge them to fights, but the guild is his home and a constant in his life, a constant he needs (bc heavy abandonment issues).

"okay, but he still pushed her away after he watched Igneel die right in front of him. and he left the guild for a whole year, too. so what's the difference there?" you may ask.

so 1) Natsu never thought the guild would disband. he returns to Fiore after a year and is the last to know that they disbanded. he assumed, like all the other times before and while he and others were sealed for 7 years, that Fairy Tail would still be there when he returned. he assumed that his disappearance would not impact so hard because the guild would still be around and Lucy would have the others with her

which, did not happen :)

and like, so many guild members go off on jobs, quests, or even just leave for an indiscriminate amount of time (which i, personally, believe was his rationality for leaving), so him being gone for a year was nothing! right? no harm, eh? his plan was never to be gone forever :))))

2) he just watched his father die and lose any chance of having some semblance of a long term reunion with Igneel. he literally lost one of his main driving motivations for getting stronger and taking jobs. before Fairy Tail, before anyone, it was Igneel. and to learn that a) Igneel was always with him to begin with and b) he only got to see him for less than a day after 14 years of nothing......i would feel lost too ngl

man's needed space from everybody. and he also needed comfort, but Natsu has been shown not to really be the character who asks to receive comfort (and when he does receive it, it's usually when he's already emotionally compromised). he is in the habit of shutting people out after being abandoned or losing someone close to him, with his next rationale being to "get stronger" in order to prevent what happened in the past to ever happen in the future.

anyway

what makes this different? well for one, he sent the letter only to Lucy (or it's implied since no one else is shown getting one) because of how the two spend most of their time together. even the line that goes with the panel makes it sound like Natsu is unsure on how the note will be received (maybe even hesitant? but that could be my own hopes)

and one of the 1st people he reunites with after a year is Lucy and we get such a similar parallel to the first chapter of Fairy Tail between the two as if the narrative itself is slotting them together to say "ah yes, now everything is back to normal and new journeys can begin"

but yeah, this is just a long way of saying, that Natsu does love his friends and guildmates but even when he is close to them, he kept to himself (and Happy) and sort of stayed in their orbit but always with some emotional distance because of his fear of abandonment. and then you have Lucy where he will stay for and allow her to orbit around him and he will invite to new adventures no questions asked

that's the difference

[cent-scratchnsniff]

here together

[television-overload]

The Walls That Tell Our Stories

Post-ep for 21x02 "The Stories We Leave Behind"

What I think we all want to imagine happened after the doors closed on that elevator at the end of the episode.

Word Count: 1,365

Read on AO3

No sooner had the elevator doors opened, than a fiery ball of energy came slamming into his legs.

"Daddy! Daddy!" the little girl yelled, grabbing onto his hand and pulling. "Take a picture of me with the orange wall!" She yanked him forward, already showing signs of that strength she and her mother both shared.

Tony laughed, casting a glance at McGee.

"Sorry, she's heard a lot about these orange walls," he explained, fishing his cell phone out of his coat pocket and dutifully opening the camera app.

He knelt down, holding the phone up so she was in frame.

"Alright, Tali, say, 'NCIS!'" he said, and Tali repeated it, finishing with a big toothy smile and a wild pose she must have learned from her friends at school.

Once he'd taken a couple photos, he clicked the image gallery to check them, holding the phone out to show Tali.

"How's that?" he asked, waiting for her approval.

"Perfect!" she answered. "Now one at your desk!"

Before he could stop her, she darted off to the part of the bullpen he had called home for so many years. It looked a little different now, various personal items stashed on the desks and even some plants making it feel more homey, but it was still the same place.

"Honey, that's not my desk anymore, it's Uncle Tim's," he reminded her. It hadn't been his in a long time, and it was crazy to think of all that had changed since then.

A pouty lip came out, and McGee chuckled. There was a lot of Ziva in her, that was true, but when it came to her personality, she was just so Tony.

"It's okay," he said, giving Tali the go-ahead to sit in his chair. “That was your dad's desk long before it was mine.”

She ran around the edge of it, plopping unceremoniously into the swivel chair and looking around interestedly at everything.

“Dad, did they have computers back when you worked here?”

Tony felt her words like a blow to the chest, and he feigned having the wind knocked out of him. How old did she think he was? He could practically feel the gray hairs sprouting from his head.

“Do you want me to take your picture or not?” he asked, shaking his head, hiding his amusement behind squinted eyes.

She smiled for the camera, then did a few poses pretending she was working.

"How many kids do you know who's number one bucket list item is to visit the headquarters of a government agency?" DiNozzo joked as he snapped a couple more photos. 

Tali had been begging them for years, but it had never been a good time. They’d needed some space to learn how to be a family when Ziva finally came home. And though they wished it had been under better circumstances, at least now they could show their daughter all the places she'd heard about in their stories.

McGee smirked, watching the energetic daughter of his two best friends as she clacked away at his keyboard. 

"I'd expect nothing less from your kid, Tony."

After a moment, Tali looked up, an inquisitive look on her face.

"Which one was Ima's?" she asked, spinning her chair back and forth.

He knelt down in front of her, resting his arms on the edge of the desk, his chin atop his folded hands.

"Which one do you think made it easiest to stare at her all day with heart eyes, Tali-girl?"

She giggled, pausing so she could inspect her options, taking the task very seriously. She tapped her chin in thought.

"That one!" she said, brightening up and pointing to the desk directly across from his.

He grinned, thinking back to all the times he'd sat there thinking about her mother. 

"Bingo!"

"Can I–?"

"Have a picture over there?" he finished, already knowing what she was going to say. "Ask Agent Knight if it's okay."

Jessica Knight was standing near the elevator with Palmer, and it didn't take long for Tali to get her permission. She ran back the short distance, looking triumphant in her return.

"Hey, where is your Ima anyway?" Tony asked as she sat down behind the desk.

"Here!" her familiar voice sounded, echoing in the largely empty bullpen. The door to the women's restroom closed behind her. "Your child is pushing on my bladder. I swear I cannot make it more than an hour without having to pee, these days."

As she approached, Tony tucked her under his arm, glancing around at the walls that held so many of their stories. This was the building that built them. Tali owed her existence to these ugly orange walls and the people that dwelled in them.

"Our daughter has been playing tourist and hitting all the great photo spots," Tony informed her, brows raised sarcastically.

Ziva turned to look at Tali, seated where she used to sit now more than a decade ago. 

"I see that," she said, her lips pulled back in a smile. "Did you tell her about the time we were stuck in the elevator?"

Tony grinned. "Oh yeah, she liked that one."

"Ima, when can we go see the lab?" Tali asked eagerly, interrupting them.

Ziva looked up and saw Jimmy approaching, and she knew there wasn't time right now. She separated herself from Tony, gently tousling Tali's wavy hair. "Another time, baby, I think it's time to head over to the funeral."

Tali nodded, glancing down at her shoes.

"I'm gonna miss Grandducky," she said sadly, playing absentmindedly with an eraser she found on the desk.

"So will we," Tony said, swallowing back emotion. "Aren't you glad he came to visit us during his book tour last year? That was pretty special, huh?"

The littlest DiNozzo nodded again, cheeks widening in a smile. "He was the first to know about my baby brother!" she said, remembering it fondly.

At that, Jimmy looked to Tony and Ziva in mock indignation. "Hey, you told him before any of the rest of us?" he said.

Tony laughed, patting the autopsy gremlin on the shoulder in consolation. "He guessed pretty quick. I think if he'd visited a few weeks earlier, he would have been the one to break the news to us!"

Ducky’s globetrotting semi-retirement had been a blessing to them all. They cherished the few times they'd been able to meet up in recent years, remaining close despite the long distance. He was a part of their family; it was only right that their daughter know him and love him too. They were fortunate for the time they did have together.

Ziva glanced at the clock and sighed, placing a hand on Tony's chest, silently telling him they probably needed to get going. He nodded in response, checking that he had his phone and wallet still before taking her hand in his.

"Alright, well, we can keep sharing memories on the way. Tali? You ready to go?"

"We'll be back, right?"

"Of course," Tony answered. "We've barely scratched the surface here! I still have to take you to interrogation to figure out what happened to that batch of cookies Ima made last week ." He tickled her sides, causing her to erupt in giggles and run ahead of them toward the elevator. They followed, hand in hand, with Jimmy and McGee right behind.

"Squeeze in!" Palmer said, the entire group filling the elevator with little room to spare. The others would be meeting them at the cathedral for the service, everyone who knew and loved Ducky, there to say their final goodbyes.

As the doors closed, Tony leaned down and pressed his lips to Ziva's, his hand resting on her lower back to pull her closer.

"Ugh, guys, really?" McGee complained exaggeratedly, screwing up his face in a look of disgust. Tali put her hands in front of her mouth to hide her giggles.

Ziva looked up at Tony like he was the only other person in the elevator, and he beamed proudly, unashamed and unapologetic.

He squeezed her sides playfully, tucking his face into her shoulder and breathing her in.

"I've always wanted to do that in here."

-.-.-

Tag List (if you want to be tagged when I post Tiva stuff, let me know and I'll add you!): @benedettabeby @earanemith @happygirl-0408 @hopeless-nostalgiac @indestinatus @loudlooks @mrsmungus @nicolem194 @putthekettleon @slippery-soapbox @tivafanfic @tivajunkie @tonysziva

Gonna go out on a limb and also tag @wanna-be-bold @pro-bee @delicatefalice @harmandmac @benditlikepress @irish-trish idk who else I've seen active lately but yeah

[shopwitchvamp]

WELL

It's come to my attention today that our latest batch of Queen of Wands (Rev.) crop tops are actually not reversed 🙃 and instead printed upright. If you received one like that recently please reach out to us. I'm contacting my shirt printer now to request a reprint.

[iguessitsjustme]

I love Monster Next Door but they are not going to make me feel sorry for Jane. I mean it's obvious that those girls aren't actually her friends but they also aren't wrong. But she hasn't done any self reflection and she has been nothing but cruel to Diew. I'm glad he stood up for himself and he unintentionally really hit her where it hurt.

[monstersinthecosmos]

Vamptember Day 18 - Lost in Translation

{the veils - vicious traditions}

Who did this to you? Daniel thinks.

He doesn’t ask, though. Armand never answers, and Daniel’s not in the mood to argue about it. The ripple of hurt crosses his face though, the moment Daniel thinks it. Daniel’s nerves are too worn down to feel bad about it.

Another hour or so before sunrise, and Daniel thinks he might leave as soon as Armand does. He chews at his cuticle and stares hard at the newspaper, reading each line backwards and forwards, trying to make it take up space in his head to mask his thoughts. Armand rolls his eyes and goes to flop on the couch at the other side of the room, staring idly at the movie that’s been playing on the TV this whole time in the background. 

He counts the lines on the news page, then counts all the times he sees the letter S. Every time he sees a number, he stops and adds it together. Fills his head with useless noise so that Armand will stop spying.

Maybe it works, or maybe it doesn’t. Too hard to tell, except that he’s in Phoenix by the afternoon, and Armand doesn’t follow. Daniel never knows if he really slipped from the grasp, or if Armand is just mad at him, anyway. Maybe Armand doesn’t want to come after him this time.

Still, he finds himself looking around the hotel room, as the sun goes down. Unsure if he’ll even be able to feel Armand out there, anyway, but checking for him all the same. Nothing, though, and the pull of the evening darkness has him feeling sleepy. He forgets, sometimes, how nice it is to sleep at night. How badly his body misses it.

He unzips his duffle bag, thrown onto the corner table. Digs under the layer of clothes to the little photo album—stupid tourist merch he’d grabbed in Vegas—and checks the window again before settling onto the bed with it. He’s been tucking their Polaroids in here for safe keeping. In no order, so that he opens on a photo of himself lighting a cigarette, but the next photo is their hotel suite from three months earlier, and then a few of Central Park in the daytime. Specific things that Daniel had been tasked to go photograph, though he never really understood what Armand wanted to see.

But Armand had stared at the photos for hours. One of them was of an overflowing garbage can, another of a rusting bike rack. A blurry photo of a jogger. A pigeon, beside a puddle with a rainbow-streak of oil floating at the surface. Armand had laid all the photos from that day around him in a semi-circle on their bed, and hadn’t spoken for the rest of the night.

He turns the page to a photo of Armand, and checks the corners of the room, tries to feel if he can sense Armand nearby, digging in his head. He slips the photo from the plastic sleeve and tilts it towards the lamp light, the glossy shine bringing Armand’s skin to life. 

Who did this to you? he wonders again, with privacy this time. He stares at the photo, studying each line of his face, trying to imagine him alive.

Daniel can’t even tell how old he was. 

His age is such an illusion. The danger around him carries a weight. Daniel doesn’t find him particularly boyish most of the time because of it. It’s like there’s a force he throws around himself, demanding that no one notices. But sometimes, away from him, sober and safe, Daniel’s surprised he doesn’t see it more often.

It’s his cheeks, Daniel thinks. He traces the curve of Armand’s face in the photos. And sometimes it’s the pathetic way you can hurt his feelings—how it shows, right in his huge dark eyes. And the way he laughs, when he really means it. Daniel always thinks he can see through the veil in those moments. It’s Armand at his most human.

More and more, he thinks the version in Louis’s interview was a lie. And he can imagine Armand lying about it as easily as he can imagine Louis protecting him. 

The same way Louis didn’t quite say it, did he? Didn’t really explain it. Not really. Probably too used to being around child-vampires to even find it remarkable. Probably too inhuman to think it even mattered.

Sometimes Daniel doesn’t know why it even matters, except that it bothers him more, and more, as the time rots away. And he finds himself staring sometimes, like he had last night. Wondering too loud, maybe, until Armand gets offended. Still, he never answers the questions about it. 

Daniel remembers the interview often, even these years later. He still combs over it sometimes, as if reading it one more time will reveal some clue that he never noticed before. 

He’d stopped at a bookstore near the hotel this afternoon, wandering around for the fresh air and uncomfortable sunlight. His book had been tucked away in the horror section, between all the cheesy paperbacks about ghosts and monsters. Of course, Molloy, all those other books are cheesy. Not yours. How special of you to share nonfiction. 

Interview with the Vampire contained ghosts and monsters, too, though, didn’t it? Whatever. Daniel rolled his eyes and checked up and down the aisle in the little store, before flipping to the chapters about Armand, knowing exactly which part was being so pesky in the bottom of his skull. Another peek for witnesses, and a pathetic fake cough to cover the noise as he tore the page out and stuffed it in his pocket.

Stupidly hit with guilt a moment later, though, as the book was half-slipped back into its little slot. His mom used to yell at him for dog-earring his library books. Told him how inconsiderate it was to all the other readers. He wondered, for just a second, if she’s doing okay. If she still reads as much as she used to. If she ever read Daniel’s book.

He shivered and grabbed the book again, blushing as he pushed the thoughts away and unable to meet the cashier’s gaze as he paid for it. He kept his hand on the crumpled loose page in his pocket as he walked back towards his hotel, feeling it grow soft and damp in his sweating palm, and threw the book out in a trash can a block away.

So now.

He pulls the page back out. Runs his hand over it a few time, flattening it against his thigh, the letters blurring before he remembers to actually focus. He knows it by heart, really, but he wants to see. Really see, as if he’ll notice something different this time.

"`No,' he said. There was a brief smile on his lips, an evanescent flush of pleasure.” 

The mental image has warped over the years, as Daniel became more and more familiar with him. He holds the paper next to the album page, then flips to the next group of photos. He wishes he had one of Armand smiling. 

He knows, on the inside, that he’s seen Armand smile. He can imagine Armand’s laugh, the way his face scrunches. But hard to know what an evanescent flush of pleasure looks like. Hard to know how different he must have seemed to Louis, one of his own kind. And Daniel spends enough time trying to imagine Armand as a human, but what had he looked like a century ago?

In that dark tower, maybe his hair tousled by the bad weather. Lit by the fireplace as he pulled Louis to his orbit. He imagines the old clothes on his unchanged figure, playing dress-up through time. His same face, too youthful, even back then. The same eyes, and Daniel imagines the way they might glow gold from the fire, the way they shine like a cat sometimes. 

“ `But you feel an obligation to a world you love because that world for you is still intact. It is conceivable your own sensitivity might become the instrument of madness.’ “

And when had he stopped reading all of it in Louis’s voice? He even used to imagine the distortion of the tapes, from listening to them over and over. Could hear the squeak of the tape deck infused over the words. He hears Armand’s voice in his head now, though. Hears his strange accent. Imagines the crackling of the fire wound through it, maybe the wind at the open window, or rain on the roof.

“ `There was love between you and the vampire who made you?' I leaned forward.

" `Yes,' he said. `A love so strong he couldn't allow me to grow old and die.’ “

There’s no secret revelation here. No paragraph that he’s been skipping this whole time. No word that blended in, unnoticed. 

The same details as always. Fifteenth Century Venice. A maker who loved him. 

Daniel peels one of the Polaroids out—himself, this time. He doesn’t love this picture but Armand doesn’t like when he throws them away. Maybe Armand kept the better ones—Daniel wonders if he keeps them pinned to his coffin lid, the way real people get buried these days.

But anyway.

They could’ve been mistaken for peers when this all started. The Daniel in the photo is different, though. Worn out by now. It’s been a hard few years. Even when it’s good, it’s hard. The drinking can’t be healthy. He wears it in his face, doesn’t he?

And he’d found his first gray hair last month. During the day, thank christ. No vampires around to hear him freak out as he plucked it. And there’s circles under his eyes more often that not, these days. And the frustrated crease in his brow doesn’t disappear the way it used to.

He flips the paper over, nauseated. Flattens his palm over it, pressing it to the top of his thigh. Doesn’t want to look at it anymore. Doesn’t want to wonder about Armand’s maker and if he’s still out there. How frightening he must be, even older than Armand is. Just thinking about it makes Daniel’s stomach churn. 

Maybe Armand would tell him more, if he actually planned to turn him. And maybe he’d even tell the truth. Not this weird saccharine bullshit he made up for Louis. What the fuck is an evanescent smile? This probably wasn’t even true. 

It’s strange, still, trying to picture Armand as a source of calm, the way he’d been for Louis. And what about to his maker, as some fragile little human?

He grabs his cigarettes from the nightstand and turns the page in the album. The top picture was from a house party they’d crashed a few months back. Someone else had taken it of them, had grabbed the camera off the coffee table without knowing who it belonged to. 

Daniel was mid-smoke, and had looked up at the camera at the last second. He’s got his elbows on his knees, and his eyes are half-shut, and the smoke clouding from his mouth catches in the camera flash to obscure half of his face. Looks like shit and annoyed to be there, but Daniel remembers having fun that night.

And Armand beside him, sitting on some guy’s lap, talking quietly by his ear. The oldest guy at the party—someone’s creepy boyfriend, or maybe an intruding older brother, or maybe just the drug dealer. Daniel doesn’t remember. But he’s tall, broad in the chest, so that his shirt stretches tight on hm. 

Armand glows orange for a moment as Daniel lights his cigarette. Not quite a fireplace in an old tower, but. The man in the photo is grinning, as if he thinks Armand is cute, as if he’s said something funny, and his hand is unsubtly curled around Armand’s inner thigh.

“Get over it,” Daniel mumbles out loud. He holds the first hit of smoke inside until it hurts, and slams the book closed as he exhales.

The page flutters from where he’d flattened it against his leg, so gentle as it lands on the bedspread. Face down, but Daniel is stupid, because there’s words on both fucking sides, anyway.

You see these powers as a gift! 

Not like he doesn’t know the conversation by heart, anyway, but he doesn’t need it flashing in his face like this.

If I knew a mortal of that sensitivity, that pain, that focus, I would make him a vampire in an instant. 

“Get over it,” he says, again. Louder, as if that helps. 

 Do you see how ruthless I am in love? 

Is this what you meant by love?

[thegreatyin]

this nemesis ambition started out a little slow but I am getting closer to finding that bastard who killed my wife, and I’ll not rest a minute now that im far closer to on his trail

sorry got in character for a second

Anyways fun ambition so far very fucked up though

congratulations on joining the murder club anon!!!! depending on who you ask the name refers to either people who have murdered or people who have witnessed murder. usually both. actually extremely often both. it's a swell time you'll feel right at home (don't mind our collective skyglass knife collection in the back)

[apollos-boyfriend]

the instant downwards spiral of danganronpa’s female characters after thh is so insane to me. like while thh has its issues and is no way perfectly written its female cast is largely treated like Normal People with real motivations and complex inner lives on par with the male cast. and then you get to literally every other game in the series and it’s like. killing women off to enhance male characters’ development. obscenely obvious pedo bait. literally 0 character. sexualized sa victim. killing women off to enhance male characters’ development. killing women off to enhance male characters’ development.

[sophsun1]

that final buck was a fuck you to me personally 😠

why did they do that? it just seems so unnecessarily cruel given he calls him evan in the same scene several times prior.

yeah, yeah, yeah you wanted to cut the cord by casually throwing out buck when he's walking out of his life and now what he's suddenly no longer his evan?

[ssreeder]

“Since he’s relayed to Zhao, a horrible person, he can’t be that trustworthy.”

Iroh. My dude. My guy. You’re the brother of Firelord Ozai

Iroh hypocrisy?? In this economy?! Pfft. Someone muzzle that man.

[layton-heritage-posts]

Psa: Don't send your shitty callout posts into my askbox please???

[tagidearte-spam-sb]

I find it funny how the fandom (or, at least, a part of the fandom I see a lot) has latched onto the "Moon is obsessed with rules" headcanon. True, he's the one that comes after Gregory for "punishment time", but...

Sun is the one calling the player a rulebreaker and kicking a literal kid straight into the less-than-friendly Glamrocks' waiting arms (for accidentally turning the lights off. As if Gregory would know touching a Freddy shaped security box would do that. If it even was Gregory and, idk, ""someone"" disabling the power in the daycare on purpose). Sun is the one nearly popping his circuits if you don't follow his instructions. Sun is the one threatening to release Moon on you if you so much as colour a page wrong. Sun is the one getting frustrated with Cassie if she screws up somehow (haven't played Ruin in a while, but I do think he freaks out if you approach him in the VR world after only disabling one - or zero - generators).

Moon on the other hand? Moon is fizzyfazzing vibing (well, not in Ruin for obvious reasons). Fulfilling his task and getting the kid? Sure sure, let him just jump from leg to leg first, and walk in a goofy way at an extremely slow pace (even Monty with no legs balancing himself on crutches would probably move faster), while giggling and alerting the entirety of the daycare to his precise jingly location. He only starts taking it seriously and entering the structures when you get some generators on, and even then he's still messing around. The robot cares more about his jester theatrics than his goddamn job. If Moon really does security patrols like many people believe he does, half of them are (or were, prior to the virus) probably him tormenting a poor overworked security guard (rip Vanessa, if you're out there...).

Don't take me wrong. I love a Moon who follows the rules to a malicious degree as much as the next person. And he does seem set on putting Gregory down to sleep and punishing him. He does seem intent on harming you in HW2. But let's be real, Moon doesn't give a shit about his job half the time - doing a goofy walk, riding a carousel... those are much better. If he gets to scare someone while doing it, jackpot for him. We only really see him struggle in Ruin, as far as I recall. Sun is the one running around like a bossy headless chicken trying to get everything in order.

I think it's because Moon is the one who directly says "you must be punished" and harms you? But even then my man jumps on the table, does a goofy move, and flies off to give Gregory some time to hide for their little hide and seek game. Sun is the one getting freaked out and throwing you out without any preamble after the lights turn on.

Again, not shitting on anyone. I just think it's so funny. I legitimately cannot imagine Moon being that serious unless 1) a real intruder is at the pizzaplex, not some snotty kid; 2) Vanny tells him to; 3) something actually dangerous is happening and he's not high on whatever virus is going around.

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

does the self-actualisation makeover 14 gets where she and rose go to a bunch of thrift shops to find Thee Worst Outfits as of yet unknown to human- and alienkind include them also poorly dyeing her hair (and half the bathroom) ginger while blasting the soundtrack of frozen 1+2

[fisheito]

Something about dark nova yakumo makes me want to bully him. Every time I see him I want to shove him in a locker or pour mop water on his head. I'm not sure why; I don't feel that strongly about his other alts but for some reason just thinking of him in a school setting turns me into a generic high school bully.

you're so right nonsy i could be standing under my angelic umbrella with the utmost compassion and empathy for the rough life of a high schooler but if yakumo walks by in his stupid oversized untucked shirt i'm gon na