#but. the brain does what it must do to survive i guess

[oscill4te]

if i absolutely must go get a new phone number i am honestly so reluctant to even update my family. partially for petty reasons, the other half bc i always feel my heart lurch whenever i have to contact them.

#rationally i should ask my father why he canceled my line maybe it was a mistake? but im scared of him even to this day #my brain just blocks out memories. my roommate was reading old texts from 2021 out loud for fun and #smthn with my father came up and i flatout didnt remember any of the stuff my roommate was reading out to me.. #my brain just cuts away memories of my family especially my dad. i like to pretend he doesn't exist. ik its not healthy though #but. the brain does what it must do to survive i guess #anyway.... i dont wanna give him my new number (if for some reason i can't get my old one back today) #txt #i feel frozen today and want to doomscroll and nap all day lmao.. not deal w reality (unhealthy i know) #i will eventually force myself out of this state. sometimes my bed feels like this sticky trap i cant get out of ykwim

[spideyzgirl]

love’s magic 🪄

A/N: are we feeling this? lmk

summary: you cook up a potion to get peter to fall in love with you; why isn’t he falling for you like he should?

warnings: a lot of sciency talk (i died writing it), witch!reader??? angst, fluff, a tiny tiny bit of stony

pairing: peter parker x reader

wc: 2578

masterlist | taglist

peter enters the lab to find you at your regular spot at your table. you look up and smile upon his arrival. “hi peter, i made love!”

“you did what now?” peters eyebrows shoot up at your statement.

“i made a love potion!” you squealed, holding up a tiny vial filled to the brim with a reddish-pink hue. you shook the vial and watched with pride as the glittery liquid swirled around.

right off the bat, peter had a million questions. none of which he would ask, because he didn’t want to come off as jealous.

“that’s… wow! does it work?” peter forced a smile.

“don’t you see the two rats making out on my desk?” you gesture towards the clear container that sure enough, held smooching rats.

“yes i do, and it’s really unnerving.” peter frowned.

“we should probably turn around and give them some privacy.” you nod.

you shake the vial once again and smile at peter. “well? what do you think? you haven’t said anything yet…”

peter takes it from you to shake it around for himself, watching concoction swish inside. he can feel the jealousy growing stronger. “yeah, it’s cool.” peter gives a small smile, trying his best not to infringe on your achievement.

“just cool? peter, i’ve been through months of trial and error to finally perfect this thing. “cool” is all you have for me? i mean, this is super intense! when consumed, it’ll flood your brain with pleasure inducing chemicals. i’m talking dopamine, oxytocin- any love hormone you can think of. not only does it affect the neurotransmitter process, but it also has a powerful affect on the brains reward system.”

“i have a reward system in my brain? that sounds awesome, what is that? what does it do?” he beamed. peter loves when you get enthusiastic about science. he doesn’t understand half of what you’re saying, yet he listens and nods intently anyway. he adored seeing you so excited about your passion.

“the reward system is what drives us to seek out food, water, and other necessary things for survival. when someone ingests the love potion, the brain starts to recognize the object of their affection as a necessary part of their survival, which causes them to crave that person in a similar way to how they would crave food or water. so, is it still just cool?” you smirk, knowing you’ve piqued his curiosity.

“no, it’s amazing! it’s also kind of scary. i’m really happy you had your breakthrough.” peter offers a smile and looks off to the side.

“but what? i’m open to criticism.”

“well, i’m just wondering who you made it for. you must really like this person, if these are the lengths you’ll go for them…” he scratches his head.

“i made it for me.” you reply simply.

peters heart drops at your answer. “why, are you trying to fall in love or something?” he nervously chuckled.

“i’m already in love. i’m just not so sure he’s in love with me.” you sigh dejectedly.

really, you made it for peter, but you weren’t about to tell him that. you’ve had feelings for him for far too long now, and the need for him to be yours was overbearing. your subtle hints might’ve been too subtle for peter, and you didn’t have a drop of courage for you to be forward either. so you did what you do best.

“you couldn’t have just… talked to him? did you really have to go to such an extreme measure?”

your eyes widen slightly, the tone of his question threw you off. “wait you don’t think this is weird do you?”

“no! i’m just saying, all those months you spent creating a potion could’ve been used to actually talk to this person, you know?”

“i guess you’re right.. maybe i shouldn’t have done this then?” you look at the potion as you think.

“no you totally should’ve! you’ve done something incredible here, don’t be ashamed!”

“no, it’s okay. i know i’m probably way in over my head. but, there’s just so many times you can drop hints to someone so oblivious.” you shrug with a smile.

“who is this idiot anyway? i can’t believe he pushed you to such a point.”

“oh, you know. just a guy. he’s usually not so dumb.” you stifle a laugh as you answer.

“oh come on, i don’t get to know who it is? that’s lame.” he playfully shoved you.

“you’ll find out when we’re together.” you smile in a way that told peter your lips are sealed.

“alright, i’m holding you to that,” he hands you the vial “i’ve gotta run soon, but good luck with your.. guy.”

“thanks,” you pull him into a hug, which he gladly reciprocates. you’re not sure why you did it, but it felt right. you get butterflies when his hand gradually moves to your lower back. you wanted to think he was testing the waters, seeing how far he could get before you stopped him.

“oh god.” peter gasped, his hold on you slightly loosening.

“what? what is it?” you pull away while your hands rest on his forearms.

“the rats are having sex, y/n. why are they doing that?”

“i feel like that’s pretty self explanatory. they don’t call it a love potion for nothing you know.” you wink.

“you didn’t know that would happen, did you?” he laughed.

“nope. i did not. but it’ll be fine! i’m not gonna go that far, if that’s what you’re worried about.” you tried to hide your smile at his concern.

“good. but what if your potion works a little too well? what if this guy can’t control himself? what if he goes so crazy over you he’ll try to hurt you?” peters grip on you tightened as he spoke, you didn’t even know he was still holding on.

“oh, he’d never. he would never hurt me in a million years. there’s nothing to worry about, this is safe, i promise. but thank you for worrying about me.”

“you know i always got you.” and it’s true. peter cares you so much, he’s willing to push you into the arms of another guy if it makes you happy, even if it kills him inside.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

later that night, peter found himself being lured into the kitchen by the sweet smell of freshly baked cookies. just as you set a fresh tray of them on the counter, peter was instantly behind you.

“ooh, cookies? don’t mind if i do!” peter quickly snatches a cookie and bites into it, humming at the delicious taste.

“peter no! those cookies are…” you trailed off, wondering why you were warning him, when the cookies were for him after all. “are… fresh out of the oven! they’re piping hot, don’t you wanna wait for them to cool?” you smile nervously, watching him carefully for any minor changes.

“sorry, i couldn’t help myself. they’re just too good. are they homemade?”

you nod, watching with worried eyes as he shoveled two more into his mouth. “okay, maybe you should slow down? i don’t want you to get a tummy ache..”

“i’ll be alright,” he shrugged. “besides, i’ll have you to take care of me.”

your heart flutters at the statement, and you try your best to hide your smile.

peter frowns slightly and hums. “hey, these kind of taste sparkly.”

“it must be starting to kick in,” you mumble to yourself. “are you feeling alright? come here.” you place your hands on his cheeks on his face to check his temperature, but he feels normal. while you wanted the spell to work, you still wanted to make sure it wasn’t going to hurt him.

“please, just don’t eat anymore cookies? you’ve had more than the necessary amount of doses.”

“doses?” his head slightly fell to the side.

“uh, why don’t we let the cookies cool? i bet they’ll taste even better then.” you ignored him.

“oh, okay. so tell me. what’s the secret ingredient?”

you smile, seizing your opportunity. “love.”

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

it didn’t take long for you to doubt the success of your potion. it should’ve taken effect within the first few minutes consumed. it’d been 4 hours since peter ate the cookies, and you haven’t seen him since.

either the spell wasn’t working, or it killed him.

if the spell was working though, the effects didn't seem to be as powerful as you’d anticipated. you began to wonder if all of your hard work had been for nothing.

“peter, you better be dead,” you huffed as you checked the time on your phone again. “i knew i should’ve tested this on steve and tony.”

then you decided, maybe all hope wasn’t lost. perhaps you needed to put in a bit of effort on your end. you were a bit on the shy side, it wouldn’t hurt to take initiative from time to time.

you texted peter to meet you in your room and in no time, he strolled inside taking a seat by you on your bed.

“what’s up?” he greets you.

“nothing, just look at me.” you stare into his eyes, searching for any hint of interest in you.

peter blinks and rubs his eyes. “shit, i lost. you never let me win.”

“what? we weren’t- you know, what never mind. just come closer.”

peter obliged, and you embraced him in a tight hug. “how does this feel? pretty intimate, right?”

“warm, cozy, everything a y/n hug should be.” he sighed

you groan and let go of him. “so you don’t feel anything at all?”

peter looks at you for a moment and thinks. your heart beats faster. this is it, he’s going to say everything you’ve been dying to hear for the past year.

“well… i’ve had this awful cramp in my calf lately. i’m just not sure what to do. what do you suggest?” he asked simply.

your heart sank. it seemed that all your efforts had been in vain. you spent so much time and energy making this potion, and for what? it didn't seem to have any effect on peter.

“that’s not what i mean! why didn’t it work? i’ve been trying for months!” you rest your forehead on your knees, unable to stop the tears from rolling.

“woah, what’s going on?” peter frowned, placing a hand on your back. but you don’t answer.

you couldn't help but feel defeated. you put so much of yourself into this project, and now it seemed like a complete failure. not only were you unsuccessful with your potion, but the boy you were hopelessly in love with didn’t take even a slight romantic interest in you. the realization was like a punch to the gut.

“what’s it gonna take for you to want me? i’m asking you now, because i can’t seem to figure it out for the life of me! i go as far as making a love potion just to get you to like me and it still won’t fucking work? i can’t do this for much longer! i spent months working on that potion,” you spat out, your voice quivering with rage. “i researched every ingredient, every spell, and every technique. so i would love for you to tell me, what it is about me that repels you?”

you’re almost panting from the anger, though it wasn’t directed towards peter. you wiped at the tears, but they kept coming.

peter was stunned with your outburst. it was definitely a lot to process. selfishly, the only thing he took from that was that you liked him. the same girl he’d been pining after for years was finally reciprocating. peter spent so much time dreaming about this moment but he never thought it would actually happen.

he mouth went ajar as he stammered, failing to form a coherent sentence. you never yelled at him before, he didn’t know how to react. all he could manage was, “you made that potion… for me?”

“yes,” you utter feebly, avoiding his eyes. “but it doesn’t matter anymore. we can just pretend this didn’t happen. my potion didn’t work, and you’re just not into me.”

“no. i can’t do that,” he shook his head, a grin plastered on his face. “not when i finally know you feel the same way about me.”

you look at him, confusion evident on your face.

“i’ve been working up the courage to ask you on a date, but i couldn’t after you told me you were making a love potion for someone else. do you know how much that crushed me?”

“and you didn’t stop me?” you fought a smile.

“i couldn’t. you were so excited about the spell working, about the person you were gonna use it on. i didn’t wanna ruin it for you because i love you.”

“i love you too,” you smile shyly, toying with the bottom of your shirt. “we’re so stupid.”

“no kidding. i can’t believe you made a potion instead of telling me you like me.”

“i can’t believe you told me to go be happy with someone who isn’t you.” you playfully bump into him, and he takes your arm gently, keeping you close.

“you’ll never hear it again.” his eyes are locked on your lips while his other hand delicately grips your chin, pulling you closer and closer until your lips meet.

your eyes flutter shut as you lose yourself in the moment. it was an explosion of sensation, your bodies coming together in a perfect harmony that felt like it had been brewing for months. it wasn't just a kiss, but an emotional release that had been building for years. you couldn't get enough of each other, your lips moving against the others in perfect union.

you both reluctantly pulled apart, breathless, knowing that nothing between you would ever be the same again; you were perfectly fine with that.

“holy shit.” you gasp.

“what happened?”

“i think i know why my potion didn’t work on you. you were already in love with me, so of course it wouldn’t work on you! i’m not a failure after all.”

“of course you’re not. i can’t get those rats out of my mind. i think in pictures, so you can imagine how horrible this is for me.” he shook his head.

you gasp again, standing up so fast you see spots. “i left the cookies out!”

“it’ll be fine. just stay here with me. we need to make up for lost time, don’t you think?” he winked.

“you haven’t figured it out yet? the love potion is in the cookies!”

“wait, are you serious?” he frowned.

you rolled your eyes and dragged him towards the kitchen. you cursed when you found that all of the cookies were gone.

“oh god. this could be bad.” you wince.

just then, steve sprinted through the kitchen with tony hot on his trail. “come back you coward! you can’t escape my love, no matter how fast you run!” tony yelled after him.

peter covered his mouth as he laughed, and your jaw dropped.

“that right there was an immediate call for an antidote.” you immediately turned to leave.

peter looked to the side in horror, to see thor in a full heated make out with his hammer. “please hurry,” he shuddered. “that’s image number three unfortunately seared into my brain today.”

you turn your attention to thor and shrug. “i honestly think that would’ve happened with or without the potion.”

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[xzhdjsj]

Elias x Reader

Elias wants you

(semi-nsfw)

Guess who's backkkkk🤡 Hi hello how are yall doinnnn👹 It's been a while

Last month, my laptop died and i lost a bunch of my files:( I was heartbroken and unmotivated BUT I WANNA GET BACK TO WRITING

That being said IF ANYONE WANTS ANYTHING WRITTEN LET ME KNOWWWWW (seriously bully me into writing it if you must, you have my full permission)

But yh here's a little Elias fic I whipped up this week. This one is pretty suggestive/ kinda nsfw-y so if you don't like that you can just ignore it altogether!

If you do decide to read it, I hope you like it💕

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Elias is shameless.

He doesn’t care what anyone thinks, or sees, or hear.

One time, Warden had scolded him about how close he’s gotten to you in such a short time and why it was unnecessary bla bla bla, the whole works. His father’s lengthy lecture ticked him off just the right amount, but he stayed quiet, silently scheming revenge.

When he spotted you as he exited his father’s office, patiently waiting for him, it all clicked. What could piss his father off more than the exact thing he was warned not to do? He tugged you down the hall, pulling you into a corner to kiss you, shielding your body with his. He purposely chose somewhere close to Warden’s office where a camera would easily catch the entire scene but keep you hidden behind him. It was a direct response to his father, a sort of 'fuck off, let me live my life' notion. Before leaving, he turned his head to slyly eye the camera with a content smirk. In every aspect of the word, Elias is a rebel.

And it didn’t stop there, Elias just loves kissing you. It didn’t matter where you were or what you were doing, if he wanted to taste you he was going to initiate. Not that there’s much to do at the safe house anyways, so when you return his eagerness it quickly escalates, but in addition to being a boring concrete crate the safe house is also loaded with camera. FUN!

So, much to Warden’s delight probably, the ‘escalation’ never gets as far as you both would like. The realisation of some random weirdos watching in on your intimate deeds together kills the mood faster than a speeding bullet, at least for you. Elias, on the other hand, respects your boundaries and take a moment to pace around, to distract himself, so he calms down.

You’re something that gets the mechanics in his head moving, he’s constantly thinking of you and if he finds himself staring at you a second too long, his pants start to feel tighter a little too easily. So just imagine what a touchy make out sesh does to the guy.

It’s far too clear how much you want each other, the sexual tension would cut smoothly, like a hot knife through butter. The employees weirdos monitoring the cameras must be entertained by the chaotic aftermath of a cuddle-turned-make out and laugh at the effort you make to avoid each other for the past couple weeks. Its like an embarrassing reality show.

Being the only two persons in the house, with very little entertainment, doesn’t make it any easier to survive either but there’s no other way to rid the desire so its best simply ignore it. It’s especially difficult for poor Elias, because he downright CRAVES you. It wears away at his resistance and he struggles to hold back at every sight of you.

Especially right now, when you walk into his room in shorts and a skimpy tank top that reveals too much skin for his ‘you engulfed’ brain to handle. If this were a loony toons episode there’d be smoke wafting out his ears as he melts into a puddle atop his sheets.

“Hey Elias, did you finish the Doritos?” You tilt your head at him.

Your words pull him back to reality and he scrambles for his blanket, dropping his astronomy text in the process. The pointy edge of the hardcover book sharply stabbed into his thigh as if an instant karma is chastising him for his inappropriate thoughts.

“Fucking OUCH!”

You rush towards him, worried eyes scanning his doubled over body.

“Crap I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to barge in- I just wanted some- Christ are you okay?”

He stays crouched over groaning but when you reach out to touch him, he grips your wrist pulling you on top of him. You scream.

“You fucker! I was scared you lost a testicle or something!”

You scolded and smacked his arm while he’s choking out a hyena laugh under you.

“Okay okayyy I’m sorry,” he pouts “But I may have lost one wanna check?”

The red colour in your face burn brighter, you scold him again as he continues to giggle at your flustered expression.

“Alright I’m actually done this time.” He keeps his arms securely around your body, burying his face into your neck. God you smell good, he prays you wouldn't move on too of him or it'd be difficult to NOT feel him.

“You’re such an idiot, god why do I even find you attractive again?” You sigh and wrap your arms around him in defeat.

He perks up like a naughty cat, “You find me attractive, huh?”

“Oh please, don’t play dumb with me you made me call you pretty so many times I’m basically programmed to it now”

His eyes reflect pure mischief, “That doesn’t answer my question”, he moves closer to your face. His eyes trail down to your lips before finding your eyes again and he leans in closer. Instinctively, you close your eyes, waiting for him to close the space between your lips but he doesn’t. Instead you feel them on your ear, “Tell me and I’ll give you what you want”

You sigh, outmatched by his impish tactics. “Of course I do, else I wouldn’t be on top of-”

Finally satisfied with your answer he presses you into his body, lips finding yours in a familiar pattern that tie knots in your lower abdomen. The feeling of your body bubbling to life is enough to have you craving even more. You’re greedily pulling his face closer, hand on his neck while the other tugs at the back of his head. He's in no better shape himself, his fingers grip into you waist and one hand sneakily crawls up the back of your shirt.

The weeks’ worth of resolve and control immediately flushed down the sink and you both give into the desire that pesters the atmosphere. Its intense, it’s so much sweeter and it feels sinful.

The heat is addicting and your hips have no shame grinding down onto Elias, but at this point he's forgotten thats something he previously didn't want. He's immediately grips them, stilling you as he pulls away.

"You're gonna get yourself into deep trouble"

He voice sounds octaves lower and it might just be the hottest thing you've ever heard. Completely entranced by his demeanour, you don't fight the urge to harshly pull at his shirt.

He easily overpowers you, pushing you onto the mattress and crawling over you, between your welcoming legs. Its difficult to stay still, but his hands have no problem sinking into your body and pressing you firmly to the bed. The expression on his face is simply dreamy and his warm breaths paired with his breathy giggles only fules your need to kiss him more. Your legs wrapped around his waist pulling him down to kiss you again. He's quick to respond, consumed by the desire to simply have you. He kisses down your jaw to you neck, where he stays, leaving wet open-mouthed kisses.

"Elias- fuck"

Whatever thought was in your head quickly voided existence when he bit down on your skin. It was magical. He didn't hold out, sucking bright red-purple marks all over you, trailing down to your chest. A path of lovebites scatter down to your collar bones and he kissed lower to the top hem of your shirt. Its obvious what he wants.

He bites the thin strap down your shoulder.

"Elias..."

You called out to him, hoping he'd remember. But how could he when you were below him in this state? Eyes shut closed, breathing heavily and making those sounds that makes him greedy for more. Before he could pull the other side down you manage to grab his arm pulling him out of his trance.

"Cameras remember?"

You whine covering your face as the embarrassing realisation sets in.

"Fuck, I'm sorry"

He sounds so defeated, so desperate. His head falls into the crook of your neck, sighing against your skin. It sends a shiver down you spine and you gently pat his head

"Its okay, I'm pretty sure we both feel the same way, but we don't exactly need a sex tape to our name as well as a bounty."

He laughs again, the breathy kind that toys with the nerve endings where his breath touched.

He suddenly pulls away, sitting up.

"Or maybe I can just," he rolls off the corner of the bed walking up to the camera in the corner of the room.

"For your own good you'd better turn off the cameras for today."

He spoke directly at the lens pointing at him and before you know it he was pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it over the camera.

You sit up on your knees, amused to his action but even more dumbfounded at a shitless Elias approaching you.

"'m sorry babe, I can't take it anymore." he crawls back over to you, his hands perfectly moulded for your body. "I don't want to ignore this anymore, I don't think I can."

"They can still hear us", you point out but don't pull away from his touch.

"I'm sure they were able to read the room. They'll take them off, and if they don't.... we'll just have to give them a show, right?" his signature grin returns to his face. Lithe fingers run along the bottom hem of your shirt before sinking under and dragging it over your head.

If he wasn't already turned on, he's definitely ten times more aroused now.

#im bakkk #zsakuva #sakuverse #asmr #elias #elias x reader

[bowserwife]

The term "anti-depressant" is incredibly insidious to me.

It implies that depression is some solid, identifiable thing, a disease in the brain that can be specifically targeted and directly counteracted by the right formulation of medicine. That is not what anti-depressants do. Anti-depressants are a mind-altering drug that induce a certain mental state. Their status as medicine is one of social construction: they are not any more or less inherently medicinal than alcohol or LSD. And certain people have decided that this mental state is preferable to the symptoms of depression--or at least that it will make a depressed patient more able to "function in society" (i.e. go to work.)

"Depression", of course, does not refer to a specific condition: it is rather a term that groups together a nebulous set of symptoms, not the thing that causes those symptoms. This is true of most psychiatric designations. And though the serotonin and chemical-imbalance theories of depression have been largely discredited, the drugs developed on these theories (mainly SSRIs) are still prescribed en masse and are referred to as simply anti-depressants. One big problem with studying the efficacy of these drugs is that it must be done almost entirely through self-reporting; through asking patients if they believe the drugs they're taking are helping.

For my part, I was prescribed ADHD medication when I was 8 years old. When I was 14 I told my parents I was thinking about killing myself, and I was started on anti-depressants: for around the next decade I would cycle through several different SSRIs, other anti-depressants, mood stabilizers, and anti-psychotics. All of these made me feel terrible in different ways. After a suicide attempt at 23 landed me a stay in the psych ward, I threw all of my meds in the garbage at once and blocked my psychiatrist's number.

And thru all those years of taking the meds, every time, every single time they asked me, "Do you think the medication is helping?"...I would say yes!!! Even as I was getting worse! Even as I was at the absolute lowest point of my life, which I only just barely survived! And I said yes because I really, really wanted the medicaiton to work. Of course I did. I needed it to: I was dying. And I thought that some group of smart doctors had come up with this pill to counteract my exact condition, so I reasoned, "well, I feel different, so I guess that must be the medicine killing the depression."

Well, I was lied to. I fell for the propaganda machine designed by faceless pharmaceutical companies who would gladly see me dead if it meant they had profited off my prescription. If you are on any kind of mental health medication, and you feel it's helping, I am not telling you to stop. But I am asking you to ask yourself: do I actually like the way these things make me feel? If you do, then that's fine. I'm a big proponent of taking drugs that make you feel good. But remember that that is all they are. A drug that makes you feel a certain way. Not a cure.

I know making the choice to go unmedicated carries a massive social stigma: many times when I tried in the past I was shamed back into the drugs very quickly by doctors, family and friends alike. But I can tell you that I am 5 years clean of any and all psychiatric drugs and I have never felt happier or more in control of my mental health.

#long posts #suffer thoughts

[m3r1m4r5u333]

Eddie is one of my favorite characters because I genuinely do enjoy flawed characters, but at the same time... The utter lack of self-awareness this man has??? Makes me want to scream!!

The sheer audacity, to be like

"Umm hey so Chris is a player, so Buck will you plz come and I dunno, give him a parental "Playing-With-Peoples'-Emotions-Is-Bad"-type talking to? You'll know how to talk about being a player - I don't. Because I don't know shit about playing, I am a NESTER. I nest!"

Aaargh. !!!!EDMUNDO!!! When will you wake up to reality, you utter moron!

Guess what, you do have experience of playing with emotions!!

Because hey, you are actually the WORST type of player!!! You play with peoples' feelings BY NESTING!!

You have a freaking history of meeting a woman and then very fast jumping into playing house with them... While you fake being emotionally invested in them!!

AND while you do that, you also trample on the emotions of the person - by person I mean Buck - you actually ARE so clearly invested in.

I mean. Wasn't it YOU, who impregnated a woman, asked her to marry you, and then fucked off to a freaking warzone?! Recall Shannon tearfully telling you that she just needed you to have her back? Does that ring ANY bells in that dim mind of yours?

Remember Ana, the woman you asked out, introduced to your son, played family with, and then broke up with - admitting that you'd asked her out because you'd just liked the idea of you two as a couple?!

You liked Ana as a concept, not a person, while making her think that you're really into her. That's playing with emotions, Eddie, you total moron!

And hey, remember Buck? The man you keep pulling close and then pushing back?

You make him feel like you're a FAMILY, you make these really heartfelt speeches in which you declare how IMPORTANT he is to you,

you basically invite him to raise your child with you... And then nevermind, you're off to play house with someone else!!

It's so freaking hot and cold, the poor man must be getting whiplash!!!

Really. You get shot, you tell Buck you've made him your child's legal guardian, that it's literally in your will...

Hey Eddie. Weren't you dating Ana when you told him that?

Then you stare at Buck in the face, the man who has been so ingrained in your family... who puts your child to bed, helps him with his homework, takes him to the zoo, survives a freaking natural disaster with your child, who sleeps on your couch, cooks for you, plays video games and board games with you three like a family, who you fucking flirt with...

And you look him in the eyes, and talk about your girlfriend,

say that "we became a ready-made family and I don't know if I'm ready for that!!!

Who even is this "we", Eddie? You and Ana and Chris?! You and Buck and Chris?! Do you know? Does he know?

Aaargh. YOU ARE A PLAYER!! REALISE IT, YOU FUCKER!! You play with everyone's emotions, even your own, you're so freaking stupid!

And really, then the audacity to ask Buck to have a talk with Chris about "playing with emotions"...

Hey Eddie, since we're talking about playing, if you need someone to help you with parenting, here's an idea, why don't you ask your GIRLFRIEND??!

And do tell, when you supervise your son's date with the woman you're dating... How is it not your date, as well.

And again, the utter bizarreness of making it "clear" to Buck that you're not going on a date with the woman you're dating when you meet up with her.

Really, what will it take for you to grow some brains, Eddie? When will it dawn on you what an emotional mindfuck you are?!

What does it take?

Buck AND your date performing an alarmingly poignant and heartfelt duet of "Quit playing games with my heart" at Chimney's and Maddie's wedding?!

You vex me. YOU VEX ME!!!

Okay I need a cup of tea, I'm not well. It's too much.

#buddie gifs #911 buddie #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie 911 #evan buck buckley #911 on abc #eddie díaz #shannon diaz #ana flores #marisol the diy lady #my emotions #Smoothbrain Eddie

[paradoxcase]

Chapter 24 of Nona the Ninth

The return of the Gideon skull!

For the record, that's when I figured out what they had done

Good news: you finally get to talk face-to-face with your necromancer who you a weirdly intense codependent relationship with and haven't been able to talk to in ages. Bad news: he looks and sounds exactly like Naberius Tern. Do you press the button?

The whole thing where Corona had to pretend to be a necromancer with Ianthe's help must have really contributed to their relationship being this weird sort of incestuous thing. From the last book I sort of got the impression that Ianthe felt like she was Corona's protector, and from what she said last chapter about still planning some way to be with Corona and the fact that she's been actively searching multiple planets for her, it sounds like she had plans to continue that relationship even after she became a Lyctor. I'm not sure if it was made clear at any point if their parents were in on this whole thing or not, but based on their relationship, I feel like they probably weren't? And maybe if they had discovered that Corona wasn't actually a necromancer, something like the Harrow Nova AU would have happened with her. I bet Corona is now glad to have escaped that situation and she's definitely unhappy with how Ianthe treated/is treating Babs, but she still has this weird and twisted up relationship with her

I'm not sure what Pyrrha was pretending here? It sounded like she'd told Ianthe what had happened. Or did Ianthe think she still had Lyctor powers, even when she was Pyrrha and not G1deon?

I'm dying to know what Pyrrha was going to say about Nona's yelling

I never really stopped and thought about the fact that Mercy must have been the one to make the entropy field. Palamedes calculated that it would result in permanent brain damage for Camilla if he did it, and Gideon probably only survived because she's Gideon, but Mercy and Cristabel must have tested this out at some point, right? Was Cristabel just extra thalergenic or something, or did she suffer permanent brain damage? Or did Mercy not run through the whole test herself? Or does the Eighth House have a natural advantage here as was suggested in Gideon the Ninth?

If blood wards age, and get weaker with age, doesn't that mean that John's blood ward on the Tomb should be pretty worn out now after 10,000 years?

It did seem clear to me that Nona's regeneration was much better than Harrow's was in Harrow the Ninth, but I figured that meant it was just like, regular Lyctor-level regeneration. It's interesting that it's actually faster than Lyctor-level regeneration, which maybe also supports her being Alecto, since John's powers came from Alecto and he seems to be the only person more powerful than the Lyctors. But if I understand correctly, I think Lyctors can survive headshots like the one Nona got, or at least BOE thinks they can, and I can't imagine that they didn't try to headshot a Lyctor at least once, since that seems to be their basic MO for killing necromancers

I hope this is not foreshadowing for something, but it probably is

We're 2.75 books into this story and this is the Griddlehark first kiss we get, where Harrow's body is being occupied by someone who definitely isn't Harrow and Gideon is kinda sorta dead and has huge open wounds all down her front

Also, I feel like Nona should be more frightened when a body that she identified as definitely being dead suddenly opens its eyes

That means that Gideon didn't only uh, wake up, I guess, because Nona arrived and has been mobile and able to brush her teeth for a while, because the only other option is that Ianthe manually brushes her teeth for her, and that seems unlikely

I really cannot think of a single time when Mercy would have seen Gideon's body. She saw Gideon's eyes at the end of Harrow the Ninth, and recognized them immediately, but I don't think she ever saw Gideon's body at any point? Unless BOE showed it to her that time when she sent Harrow to kill the planet that just happened to be right next to where We Suffer and Co. were and was like, hey, have fun, I'll be back in 4 hours? I guess she showed up at some point during As Yet Unsent to heal Judith, too, which must have been before that point, so maybe she saw it then?

You punched her out of an airlock, and then she tried to kill you in the incinerator, and then you shot her in the head. This is just how tales of epic romance go in this universe

This is what it means to love in this story isn't it? To own, to squeeze, to cosset, and to destroy

Just a guess, but I think John did not in fact allow her to bring Gideon with her and Ianthe just did it anyway

Is this why people have been saying that Pyrrha must remember the world from before she was resurrected, because she still remembers disco?

So far necromancer/cavalier relationships have been entirely a social construct, there are different rules for them and different ideas about what they mean and how they work across all nine Houses, and we've had cavaliers that switched necromancers, like Protesilaus, like this isn't a soulmate AU. I don't think there should be anything necromantically binding any particular necromancer to their cavalier unless they've actually Lyctorfied. So I can believe that Ianthe has some special necromantic connection to Babs but I don't think there's any reason for Palamedes to have a special necromantic connection to Camilla? Unless the like one step they took towards Lyctorhood counts? But Harrow was able to use necromancy through Gideon when they did the construct challenge back at Canaan House, and they hadn't taken any steps towards Lyctorhood at that point. Even if the phrase "one flesh, one end" somehow has necromantic power, Harrow and Gideon hadn't said that to each other yet at that point

Ianthe put a ward of some kind on her a while back, I wonder if that is protecting her from Number Seven somewhat?

I hope that's like, Nona describing ribs, and not actual teeth in her chest, because why would they be there? It can't have been a modification that John made, because Palamedes claims that her wounds are the same as they were earlier

That does confirm that the only reason Corona came to the barracks was to get Ianthe to put that ward on Judith

Ok, I have a prediction now, which is that since Nona is probably Alecto, or at least mostly Alecto, with maybe some Gideon and/or Harrow residue, when they go to open the Tomb the thing that Pyrrha was afraid of earlier where Nona's soul gets vacuumed out of her body into Gideon is actually going to happen for real with Alecto, and then they will have to try to figure out how to get Harrow's soul back into her body before it dies, and probably also have to deal with Alecto waking up as herself, whatever that turns out to mean

Which is probably why the next book is called Alecto the Ninth

I like how the one thing that breaks her out of pretending to be dead is the thought of getting poked with a needle, haha

So now I have to wonder though, what kind of partly-dead state is she actually in now? And why has she been pretending to be dead? I doubt she would be on Ianthe's side of things and she considers all of these people friends, except for Judith probably

#the locked tomb #nona the ninth

[unhonestlymirror]

Okay, so,

Kenjaku said that the way to capture Gojo Satoru was to make him stand in one place for 10 seconds. How was it possible to do for the strongest sorcerer? If you can't find a gap in his body, find a gap in his mental state. Kenjaku knew he had to make Gojo Satoru shocked enough, and most importantly, he knew HOW to do it.

This leads to a question: For how long had Kenjaku been thinking about capturing the body of Geto Suguru? When did this idea appear? Fandom likes to joke about Kenjaku just randomly finding his body on the streets - just to copy with the fact that it's almost impossible for Kenjaku NOT to watch Geto and Gojo after Toji incident. Or even earlier.

Most likely, Kenjaku paid Toji through the third parties to kill Star Plasma Vessel. Kenjaku either knew that Gojo&Geto would be her bodyguards or even appointed Gojo&Geto as bodyguards himself, again, through the third parties (higher-ups).

The main Toji's mission wasn't to kill Riko Amanai. His main mission was to kill Gojo Satoru, and he didn't even guess about it. A truly wonderful political scheme from Kenjaku, who himself mentioned it was always a pain in the ass to deal with Six Eyes Gojo.

But! Something didn't go according to plan. Everything really went wrong - but not because Riko Amanai died, unfortunately, her fate was already established, and it never was a big deal for Tengen to lose a Star Plasma Vessel. Everything went wrong because Gojo Satoru refused to die.

The personality of Toji Fushiguro himself played an important role in this. This is what Kenjaku could not foresee. Toji was a hitman who did his job so well that people probably said he was a maniac. What's funny is that Kenjaku fell for the rumours. If you shift your focus from how traumatic the Toji incident was for Gojo&Geto, you can see that Toji usually kills his victims quickly, painlessly, with a minimum of destruction, without humiliation and tortures, he doesn’t kill those who weren't in the list.

For Gojo, he made an exception because Gojo was the strongest from the very beginning, and he required a separate tool. Even with it, Toji didn't snap Gojo in a half, he didn't decapitate Gojo, although he MUST have heard the legends about Six Eyes possibilities, as a former Zenin. Nevertheless, all Toji did was stabbing Gojo Satoru into the skull from ossis parietalis and a throat??? Not from the back of ossis occipitalis where the most important parts of the brain are located, without which NO ONE can live??? There were real-life people who survived after being shot in the head from ossis parietalis. Toji MUST HAVE KNOWN anatomy, MUST HAVE KNOWN about Six Eyes possibilities, and he still chose to kill Gojo Satoru in such a lame way.

What's interesting is that Riko Amanai was shot in the same exact ossis parietalis. Riko Amanai, however, was an average girl, not Six Eyes sorcerer. You can say that Toji Fushiguro suddenly forgot everything he knew about the Gojo clan, suddenly forgot anatomy, or just always liked killing people in their parietal bone - but I think it's much simpler. No matter how much Toji gaslighted himself, he still took pity on Gojo Satoru. There was literally no need to talk about the Spear of Heaven, and only now I realised what it reminded me of. It reminded me of how doctors say, "A mosquito will bite you" to children from whom they take a blood sample. That was a very professional and very perverted way to say, "I'm sorry for what I have to do to you." Toji just couldn't have decapitated a teenager. And from that moment on, Toji doomed himself to death. The fact that readers perceive Toji as a maniac who loves to humiliate people (bro, he doesn't even humiliate service staff, or non-sorcerers, or women, like Naoya does) indicates that Gege is a genius.

The cold-blooded politician Kenjaku, who never gave warm emotions to anyone, couldn't have foreseen that. Kenjaku had to urgently change plans, and the most unpleasant thing was that he had to move the deadline to get rid of Six Eyes.

[A very interesting moment to me was when Toji kicked unconscious Geto in the face and told him to thank his parents. Geto fans perceive it as humiliation because that's how it looks from aside - but they forget that the *humiliation* requires either its victim to stay conscious, or someone else watching the victim being humiliated. There was no one. If Toji really wanted to humiliate Geto, he would have woke Geto up and then kicked him in the kidneys or genitals. I think what happened is somehow connected to the fact that Geto looks strikingly similar to Noritoshi Kamo (teen) and that Kamo and Zenin clans are connected. But it's just a theory. I think there is a very interesting hidden story.]

Kenjaku had to change his plans, and that's how the Geto-Kenjaku idea was born. Contacting Kenjaku or not, it is likely that Yuki Tsukumo participated in this conspiracy because it was beneficial to her. Most likely, she knew that Noritoshi Kamo could use techniques of its previous user's body - and she believed "the devil that you know is better than the devil that you don't" (c). Yuki Tsukumo, however, didn't know what Kenjaku wanted exactly Geto's body for - otherwise, that dialogue between her and Suguru Geto would have NEVER happened. Yuki Tsukumo wasn't dumb, and she cared about her country, and she would have never left Japan without its strongest sorcerer.

It's sad that Yuki Tsukumo is being perceived either in chosoyuki context or as just a sorcerer with cool techniques. Because Yuki Tsukumo was not less a cold-blooded politician than Kenjaku, except that she cared about Japan and her close people, nevertheless, she perceived Geto as a chess piece in a bigger game. She had Kenjaku's mind and, most importantly, she understood people's hearts way better than him, it's just that she didn't have hundreds of years of experience. Kenjaku was quite rightly afraid of her.

I suspect she was originally meant to be a traitor. However, since Gege noticed that people love her, he just let her die with honour and remain an underrated hero in people's minds.

In conclusion, Gege is a genius.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #geto suguru #toji fushiguro #kenjaku #yuki tsukumo #jjk thoughts

[slimeology]

finally a time to create! today i put Charleston into another world, this time of cassette beasts because the game rocks and i had to.

I made a image of him in my best attempt of the style in the game as well! I will ramble of him below with an extra image.

I have been thinking on how his story would work in the context of the game. First thing is that he is no replacement of the main character, he is simply also there and had the misfortune of ending up in the marshes when he first appeared.

He likely appears somewhat after the player, not entirely sure what to do with himself as he's a scientist but lacks any and all equipment and generally struggles with his own use, let alone in another world. He's not very built for survival in the wilderness.

Generally I suppose he would somewhat be like a partner character though i go between him just being out there and such an idea. Either way he's support focused, as he doesn't believe in violence solving things, though between animals and such he understands, he prefers not to.

I doodled him as what would very likely be what he uses! or well one version, as it would start as a jumpkin.

Maybe it wouldn't just be a regular jumpkin, I do not know! A bootleg version would fit him as it isn't typical and coming from a different world he doesn't know what a pumpkin actually looks like. [he does not come from earth! earth is out there but he is not on it.]

Anyways, anyways, as many somewhat important characters have, his theoretical story line would end with an Archangel fight. Maybe I will try to recreate my idea but it would take some concepts and look from my own world, while playing by the rules of the game.

It would be the incarnation of something relating to isolation, perhaps just isolation itself. Charleston in his own story is very very isolated, and coming to a new world is even more so.

The Archangel would be ancient in lifespan, with humanity being a social species the idea would've existed for ages, but it's form is long since broken up and weakened. I see it only appearing pretty late, considering I have in mind it takes one of the Landkeepers as they are vessels already and in their existence are very isolated, especially if they were human once.

It does not fit inside the vessel though, so it has burst forth. Similar to some kind of parasite perhaps, as isolation can consume the mind if left long enough. I guess the look would be a mishmash of the pixel art and something else, to look more alien and seperate from the game world.

I realise at this point my words have stopped being about Charleston whoops- the ideas have just been in my brain! I hope to when I get a chance i can draw more from the game yes!

He is silly in my mind at least, likely taking time to study the rogue fusions after a while to do something, though at some point he would help with making jellyton fertiliser functional [basically not poison, which i assume would limit it especially as it makes the jumpkins , i think??] to aid the community.

I hope one day I may get him a green jellyton as that would fit him greatly, but the chances are slim since I have ended up with moth and allseer collection instead-

If you have read all this, i do not know why but have a good day despite it! I will make more content for cassette beasts when I get a chance! hopefully anyways, there is so little out there it is making me want to try my hand at writing again. I must assist in making more! it deserves some recognition for sure :]

#cassette beasts #oc #oc art #goopy art :] #art #artwork #draculeaf #<- he is in there i swear!! #charleston but more! #he is getting his own tag at this point i have posted two whole AU of him geez

[morgana-ren]

something i wonder about for not ascended astarion. he spent those 200 years just eating rats and whatever cazador let him, he had to survive. and its not that he doesnt like being a vampire right? but he was surviving and suddenly with the tadpoles he has a lot less restrictions and abusive oversight.

once cazador is dead, i wonder how his bad days go remembering all that. how he handles dealing with what he is for the rest of eternity, since i doubt he had enough time to address trauma while it was happening. if he has any issues with drinking from people kind of like how he has issues with sleeping with others.

but maybe not since cazador wouldnt let him before and tav/companions are the first he drinks from, and not against his will. i dunno, just something i think about and wanna hug him over lol. sorry for the ramble

My guess? The same way we all live with trauma. In the way that, during the day, you are alive and you are breathing and you focus on the sun shining. You focus on the light in front of you, and not the memories flashing behind your eyes. You keep your claws away from your skin, and your mind from straying into the dark that waits, inky and twisting and sick, around every corner. Every scent. Every sight. You focus. You keep busy. You live, because it is all you can do. Your grief is a living thing that breathes and follows you, but it is polite and will sometimes stay quiet when there are other people speaking.

You do not think about the crisis that will come when night falls and all is quiet. You do not think about the taste of blood being so foreign even as you've needed it for years. About the things only your pillow knows. About the nightmares that will plague you, and the memories that etch themselves onto your soul like stone, and the way you still flinch at footsteps and voices. About the body that, even as it is yours, you cannot fully control because when your heart races or your eyes strain or the panic flows through your veins like a poison, you still cannot control it and even as the pain has stopped, your body remembers. It will always remember.

You do not think about the demon that peeks its head in from the closet door of the past uninvited every night, no matter how many times you lock it. The demon with their face and their memory and their touch and their claws and scent and it feels real even as you once spit on their corpse.

But Astarion doesn't really get that, does he? There is no sun shining. There is not even living. There is a man who is dead because his life was taken from him. A man who does not even know his own face because it was also taken from him. A man who cannot look to the light and the sun because his autonomy was taken from him. There is a man who cannot feel warmth because he will die again, for real this time, and it is the second death that hurts the most. The death you choose. The death you deny yourself. Where you must weigh your options and decide what it is all worth and take inventory of your own hoarding brain-- hoarding memories and sensations and feelings that no longer have a place and a home and a shelf. Repugnant trash you do not want in your house. You want them gone. But where do you put them?

His body is laden with scars he cannot see, cannot come to peace with, cannot face, even if he wants to. Phantom pain that will ache forever because scars that deep cause tissue damage and you feel them when you move and you breathe and it rains. His body was not his own. He will struggle to remember it is his body now. His skin. His scars. His body. His life. His choice. Said over and over like a mantra. To remember. To keep remembering.

He will slink around his own house like a ghost sometimes. Quiet and subtle. Deliberate. Even as it is his home, old habits die hard. He will awaken to noises you can't hear. He will expect him. He won't meditate. He will have questions that no one can answer because he is of a monstrous and forsaken kind that took him and abandoned him and left him with the questions of a child in a skin suit. He will flinch at touch-- even gentle, consensual touch meant to soothe him-- before he will relax. And one time that relax will become a deep, horrible, wrenching sob. And it will keep happening because that dam gets harder to build every time.

He won't want to talk. Sometimes he will. There's no rhyme or reason. It's like the tides of a sea that he rides and even he cannot control. All he knows is he is looking for some kind of land. Any kind of shelter. Something in the storm. All he can do is follow the currents and hope you follow.

He will have mood swings. He will crave touch and yet be repulsed by it. You must be careful. He will have to learn autonomy and consent all over again, and have to learn his own consent because that voice in his head is still there that tells him it is not his own. He will have to wrestle with the switch in his head because there is a cage over it with a key that he keeps forgetting he has. He will come to believe once again that he is a burden. That this is not your fault, and it's not fair you be expected to deal with it. He will suck it up. He will lash out. He will break down. He will cycle. He will do as mortal men do, even as he is not mortal.

He will be irrational and angry. He will feel sorrow at it. He will not understand his own feelings because he is not used to them being his feelings. What he wanted never mattered. They were not his feelings to have. And now he has too fucking many of them and they are falling around him like fucking leaves and severing and cracking into a billion more complex feelings and it doesn't matter how you heap them, it just turns into a giant mushy pile of what do you want from me? while they pile and pile and pile and rot and decay around you.

And it builds and it builds and it builds and it fills your lungs like fetid fucking water until you cannot breathe and it seeps out of your eyes and your very pores and infects everything around you.

And he has eternity to hoard. To cope. To feel. To find a way to stuff skeletons in the closet and organize his own head and learn to live in it again. To find a comfortable place in his own skin. He has an eternity. Whether he wants it or not. Yet another aspect taken from him. The choice to be natural. To die side by side with your partner of old age and contentment. He will outlive them, or he will curse them. There is no middle. Every time he looks at you, he will see the outline of your skull, and the fragility of your form. He will watch as you grow old and surpass him. He becomes your boyfriend to your husband to your son to your grandson. He is as beautiful as the day you met him. He tells you that you are too.

The world moves around him. He watches it through red eyes, a crimson veil between him and life, seeing everything, but unmoving with it. It passes him by. He cannot touch it, not truly. He is a man in a monster in a coffin. His comfort items will decay. His clothes will fray. His ring will break. His life will go on. His coffin will fill with bones. Just never his.

It will haunt him and hurt him and stalk him until he faces it. Because he is dead, he will need to learn to live again. He will need to learn to feel warmth. To see the sun where there is none. To cherish the fleeting and lament the dying-- two luxuries he does not have.

He will need to learn to fit his body back on every night like a glove and relearn how to puppet it. Learn that it is his. That it is wholly under his control. That no one gets to touch it if he does not say so. That he does not have to touch anyone. That no one is entitled to him. That he is entitled to no one. That this is good and okay and his body is not a weapon or a gift to be threatened or given. It is his home where he lives, and no one is allowed inside if he does not want it. He does not need to give a reason. It is not a fleabag hotel; it is a home-- his. The world has sucked him dry. He is the vampire, but in his home, you do not get to come if you are not invited.

He will need to learn he is not a burden. That it is okay to be angry. That it is okay to be furious. That it is okay to feel sorrow so heart-wrenching it feels as if your unbeating heart is being carved out with a knife even as there is no one wielding it. It is okay to scream and cry and shout. It is okay to need support. It is okay to collapse even as you have it. It is okay to lean on those who love you. It is okay to turn to Tav and just need something. Love, support, a hug-- silence.

Most of all, he needs to mourn. He needs to mourn his own death. Mourn his tragedy. Mourn his parents and the life he lived. Mourn the man he was. Mourn all that life has dealt him. Mourn every ounce of time he lost. Even as the hourglass stopped moving, the sand is still in the bottom. He can still feel the weight of it. Still sift his hands through it and feel it slip through his fingers. Mourn the man so that he can truly be born again.

He is shown that he is willing. Symbolically, he accepts this challenge. He feels certain. He feels ready.

And he can do it.

It will take time. It will take love and support from others and from himself. He needs to allow himself to be. Just to be Astarion. To delegate time to finding out who that really is. Who he really is. What he wants. What he is okay with. What he is ready for and what he doesn't like. He did not have a body and a soul for so long. He was a vessel. Now he is putting back pieces of himself together from where they were cast, stitching them together carefully, trying to figure out what they mean and trying to find pieces of himself to fill them with.

He has to accept himself. Become himself. He is Astarion the vampire spawn. He needs blood to live. This is an immutable truth. No amount of railing against it will stop this. You must live with your demons side by side, but you do not have to hold the devil's hand. You can accept them. And in time, they become more and more quiet. Less and less prominent. The shadow shrinks and allows room for light. You just have to be open to finding your own sun to bask in and find happiness in the smell of the leaves that pile around you endlessly. To swallow the water bits at a time rather than drowning. To learn to not love the scars, but accept them, and let other people see them and help you. Because he cannot see himself, but the friends that love him can, and like he once said: He could do worse.

I believe he will be okay. He has the strength. He just has to yank it out of himself.

#morgana and friends #astarion #tw trauma #I just rambled here again #The journey after the journey warrants speculation #Helping him find himself and learn to fight the shadows #Helping him become a better man #one who can look back and go 'I made it.' #Sort of like we all do

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE CHARACTER SONG Vol.7 Seiron Syndrome by Mukami Yuma Mini Drama ”A Sweet Lesson”

Original title: 甘美な教え

Source: Diabolik Lovers CHARACTER SONG Vol. 7 Mini Drama

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Tatsuhisa Suzuki

Translator’s note: As a teacher who also taught at middle school for one year, I totally sympathize with the MC in having to try and teach someone who clearly does not care about learning at all lol. Although I guess in Yuma’s case, it’s a little more justified since these guys have been alive for a long time and they can perfectly survive without getting their degree so it must be pretty annoying to have to keep up with high school. :p Especially someone like Yuma who clearly wants to work with his hands and not with his brains. 

Yuma bursts into your room. 

“ーー Oi, Sow!! Teach me this school shit! ...If I don’t pass the upcomin’ midterms, Ruki will have my head on the choppin’ block for real.”

He walks up to you.

“Ah, god...What’s the big deal ‘bout gettin’ a couple of bad grades? Vampires don’t even need school for anythin’...! Come on, make some space for me at yer desk!”

*Rustle*

Yuma takes a seat.

“I brought the textbook and my notes with me, but I honestly have no fuckin’ clue what any of this shit means. ...I want ya to help me remember everythin’! Then if I still fail regardless, I can at least put the blame on ya instead...Right?”

“Ah, fuck off...! All ya need to do is do a proper job, right!? Get started already!”

You start teaching him.

*Scribble scribble*

“...I’ve never even heard of a grammar rule like that.” 

You frown.

“I can’t help it...! God, shut up! I just gotta get it inside my head, right!? Argh, damnit!”

*Crunch*

“...Ah? Ya want me to stop chewin’ sugar? Don’t ya know!? The brain needs carbs to remember all this crap!”

*Crunch*

*Flip*

“Ah! T-The doodles on that page areーー It’s nothin’ important!”

You chuckle.

“Hey, don’t laugh! Fuck...”

*Scribble scribble*

“...Why do we need midterms anyway? Damnit, I can’t be bothered with this shit...”

*Thud*

You flinch.

“God...Stop gettin’ scared over every lil’ thing. ...Whatever. I’ll just tell Ruki that it’s yer fault that I failed my exams. See ya!”

Yuma tries to leave but you stop him.

*Rustle*

“...!? Che...Don’t tug onto my clothes...”

You try to reason with him.

“...Hah? Ya can bet yer ass that I’m tellin’ him it’s yer fault! I don’t give a damn ‘bout how ya feel ‘bout it!”

You pout.

“Ahー Fuck! I wanna just go and water my plants already! So what if I’ve been failin’ my tests!? I’m goin’ to school at least so isn’t that the most important thing!?”

You tell him that he could always repeat his year.

“Ya really think I’m gonna stoop to the same level as that fuckin’ Sakamaki NEET and be held back a year!? God...! I just gotta do this shit, right!? ...But I’m only doin’ this one page today! ...’Kay, shoot me some questions. I gotta explain what these words mean, right?”

You pose question one.

“Haah...? I’ve never even heard of that word before...! I bet yer pronunciation just sucks! Read it one more time.

You repeat the word.

“Haha...Hahaha...Nah, got no clue. ...Ahー This isn’t gettin’ anywhere...I think I’ll go tell Ruki that yer a lousy tutor after all. ...Ah...This pisses me off...I’ll have some Sugar-chaーー”

*Cling*

“Ah!? Che...The jar’s empty...”

*Rustle*

“Hey, gimme yer blood. ...My irritation level has reached its peak now that I’ve run out of sugar on top of bein’ forced to study.”

He pins you down.

*Thud*

“I think I might feel a lil’ better if I have a sip of yer blood...Come on, where do ya want me to bite ya? Tell me.”

You protest.

“Haah!? ‘Let me go’!? God...That wasn’t the question...Guess I gotta punish that mouth of yers for spoutin’ bullcrap...”

*Rustle rustle*

“Ugh...”

 Yuma bites you.

*Sluuuurp*

“Nnh...Hah...Does it hurt, huh? Don’t talk back...It’d be a shame if yer blood were to drip down from the side of yer lips and go to waste...Nnh...”

*Sluuuurp*

“It’s kinda sweet...I bet you’ve been snackin’ on my Sugar-chan behind my back, haven’t ya?”

You shake your head.

“Don’t lie. Nnh...”

*Sluuuurp*

*Rustle rustle*

“Hahn...Nnh...Both yer lips and yer blood are kinda sweet for some reason...Anyway, guess I’ll suck from here next...Nnh...”

*Sluuuurp*

“Mm...Mmh...”

*Sluuuurp*

“...Hah. What? You’re tremblin’...Are ya expectin’ more perhaps? Hehe...Ya really are a Sow at heart. I can’t believe you’re gettin’ a kick outta havin’ yer blood sucked...”

*Sluuuurp*

“Hah...No more studyin’, huh? Hehe. Guess we’re partners in crime now.”

*Rustle*

“It’s all yer fault...So ya better don’t think ya can get out of this...Hahn...”

*Sluuuurp*

“I’ll savor ya thoroughly...Mmh...”

*Sluuuurp*

ーー THE END ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #yuma mukami #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

[thiefbird]

E, n, u for the letters ask please! 🖖

E - Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom? If so, what?

Yes, but not recently! These were back in early early high school. I wrote a very short, very bad Draco Malfoy/Apple(as in the fruit) fic once. I hope to god it has been lost to time. I will not tell anyone what my fanfiction dot net username was. I also wrote a Doctor Who/Supernatural/Sherlock/X Files/Star Trek: The Original Series/Warehouse 13/The Yellow Submarine(not Beatles RPF because the only character was Jeremy Hillary Boob, PhD aka The Nowhere Man)/Invader Zim crackfic extravaganza in collab with @gabrielnovakgoestomyschool (there may have been another fandom that I forgot). I do not know if it has survived the passage of time. I almost hope it did. They were all in this incredibly Escher-esque grocery store trying to get milk. I guess recently I accidentally wrote "Loghain Mac Tit" instead of "Loghain Mac Tir" when starting a post, took one look at it, and just posted it without further elaboration. I don't know if anyone ELSE thought it was funny, but I definitely did.

N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

U - Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites.

Anders - I love an underdog, I love a revolutionary, I love a pathetic tall man who looks like he hasn't slept in a month, I love a man who will make Those Sounds when he kisses me. Also he loves cats and complaining; same, Anders. More seriously, I think he's a deeply misunderstood character by both those around him in canon, by his writing team and Bioware as a whole, and by the general fandom(not any of my beloved mutuals, we are all in the Right About Anders club); despite this, I do think he is a cohesive character. I just don't necessarily think that he is a cohesive character on purpose. I love the implications of his bonding with Justice, and the avenues it opens up for writing. I fully believe that Anders believes that he corrupted Justice into Vengeance, and that Vengeance is a demon; I just don't believe it's true.

Stephen Maturin - Ohhh, Stephen, my beloved. Patrick O'Brian cooked you up in a lab specifically to make me insane (nevermind the fact that I was three years old when he died) - mine is a fated obsession, to the point that I actually had a crazy-dramatic, toxic relationship with an autistic Trinity College naturalist for four and a half years directly out of high school; my brain simply had not fully learned that Stephen Maturin existed (I'd seen the movie once or twice and listened to the soundtrack ad nauseum because of my mother but never payed much attention), and fixated on the next best thing. Here is my Stephen Maturin propaganda: He's a tiny, angry little man who calls animals and friends and his wife alike "honey" and "my dear" and "acushla/a chuisle" (I will never forget the "awwwwwwww" that came from my mouth the one time he called Tom Pullings honey). He calls his best friend "soul" and "joy", and his other best friend "honey-bun". He's an International Super Spy, one of the most effective in the British service, and refuses to be paid for it because he hates tyranny so much (he does not like English colonialism either, but he has decided that England is the best way to beat Napoleon). He's an Irish and Catalan revolutionary (I did say I love a revolutionary), who is somewhat in hiding in the first book because of his associations with The Society of United Irishmen, and therefore connections to the Irish Uprising of 1798. Despite this impressive resume, this man has never met a boat or ship he is not in danger of not falling out of - he has been at sea for the better part of twenty years by the end of the series, and he still must be Carefully Watched to make sure he does not drown, or get soaked through to the skin. He is an acclaimed surgeon, with a miraculous success rate. He is also a renowned natural philosopher who has discovered multiple species, including a giant tortoise. He is the least tidy or fastidious man in all of creation, and is constantly covered in blood and/or winestains and/or crumbs. He pours alcohol over surgical sites not because he knows of germ theory, but because he thinks it'll help with pain. The only non-familial friend he's had longer than Jack Aubrey(who lives longer than the first book. Sorry James, ily) is Adhemar de la Mothe, a known and flamboyantly queer Parisian. He regularly says that he does not see the harm in sodomy so long as no one is harassing the ship's boys, and that anything that adds more love to the world seems a good thing. He loses his mind over a woman, and the more awful she is to him the more he loses it.

Speaking of Diana Villiers - Oh, Diana. I am fully in understanding with Stephen over you. A beautiful, headstrong woman who can ride better than most men, stuck in the most boring atmosphere of Southern England with her aunt and cousins after the death of her husband and her father both made her leave India - I cannot blame her for many of her actions. Diana is a fascinating character, and to me she is proof of Patrick O'Brian's writing ability. Most authors of Men Go To War books don't really seem to know how to write women very well (C.S. Forester I am looking at you. I do not know who Maria is outside of her fawning over Hornblower), but Diana is a fully fledged person from the moment we meet her setting her horse over a gate, despite the fact that we never see any of the events of the twenty books through her eyes. Not only is she a fully realised character, but she is one that shows his understanding of the setting he writes in. Diana Villiers is coping with grief - not only grief for her husband and her father, but for her independence. Her life in India, keeping house for her father from her mid-teens, would have been almost as different as one can imagine from the life of a poor relation take in on charity by a widowed aunt. She feels stifled in the English countryside, forced to play second fiddle to her cousins in order to keep the peace and a roof over her head. I cannot blame her for toying with men's hearts as a source of entertainment. Going into keeping with Canning is Diana's attempt to regain at least some measure of independence, and it is successful, to some extent. She has money, she is back in a country she finds familiar and exciting - but she also has a jealous, suspicious lover who employs their servants as spies to watch her activities, and little company because she is herself a scandal. Stephen's proposal offers her a way out of her situation; it also, to her, seems like a loss of freedom, not only because Stephen loves her, but also because she loves him, and that terrifies her. So she instead runs away with Johnson to America. Johnson, of course, is worse than Canning, and she leaves him temporarily, but then her freedom in England is threatened, again, this time by suspicions of intelligence work (I always wonder just how she got tied up so tightly in Mrs Wogan's subterfuge; did Johnson have something to do with it?), and surprise! Johnson is there to whisk her away from the danger. But he's worse still, and Stephen manages to intervene(yay Stephen) and get her away and back to Europe. This just keeps happening. Diana wants something that is almost entirely impossible for a woman in the period she lives in: liberty. Anything that could interfere with her freedom and independence is avoided at any cost - even her own feelings for Stephen. Especially her feelings for Stephen. She also, to me as someone with BPD/cPTSD now pretty well in remission, reads as a very empathetic and accurate portrayal of someone with BPD/cPTSD. Personally I think Being A Woman In The Late 1700s is enough reason on its own to have it(and we don't know enough of Diana's life before the Peace of Amiens to speculate on other Sources Of Trauma other than the death of her husband and father), but a lot of her hot-and-cold feels so familiar to me. She can be so cruel, and mean it fully in the moment she's saying it, but almost immediately regret her cruelty while still doubling down because she feels she has no other options.

Wow. This got really long. I hope everyone enjoys my Aubreyad Opinions Of The Day

#ask game #thiefbird speaks

[araneitela]

"Destiny has thousands of faces, why does it choose to wear this one?"

/rattles at bars /rattles at bars more firmly

Are we supposed to take this at direct face value? Tell me something, Kafka, what exactly is Spirit Whisper, and where does it come from? Does everyone from Pteruges-V possess it? I just double checked to see if I can find anything at all in any reference, and there's nothing that seems to indicate it to be the case. But also, I find no 'odd references' to any other instance of its use anywhere else, or by anyone else? I'm having a big brain moment, humor me for a moment: what if she actually is directly tied into Fate itself? Okay, let me bundle up some of my thoughts here:

Any showcasing of Spirit Whisper indicates that it doesn't seem to even remotely drain her of anything to use (I know we're speaking game mechanics here, but remember there are drawbacks to other things in this same game), regardless of the targets in question. In her trailer, she subdues (read: pit them against one another) a large number of men without doing as much as blink, the Jepella Rebellion had her very intricately control (and since this was a 'mock trial' of sorts— I do assume a lot of its dialogue to be genuine, but still?) 4 judges. But most importantly, when Kafka (of course) accompanies Blade to the Xianzhou, she likely knew exactly who to expect upon arrival due to Elio, she must've, it would also explain why she was perfectly calm and anything but unnerved. But the ones on the scene there? They're all very big players: Blade himself, Jing Yuan, Yanqing, Dan Heng who ultimately found his High Elder form; and Kafka didn't seem to flinch nor grow concerned even once. That means she was likely prepared or able to possibly intervene through SW, that means it's inherently capable of handling very significant 'foes'. Now of course, one can say that the script would have possibly reassured her, but through her SQ we know that she actively believes that fate is not by default predetermined, which tells me that there must still be an element of preparation or a 'safety net'. Yes, I know, I'm making an argument for fate, but it's very specific. Any way, it's strong and she seems to never flinch. What on earth is it?

Now, here's one thing about it: it is able to take people's choice away from them, isn't it? Isn't that on some level directly contradicting fate? Or in other/better words: is that not directly controlling fate?

The entire trailer ends on the premise of what No Country for Old Men presents, and to elaborate for those who don't know it: the entire story narrows down on the narrative that destiny is encroaching on all of us, you can't outrun destiny, any choice that you believe you have is an illusion because there is no second-guessing fate. In that final sequence, Kafka presents the final man with a coin flip, 'as for the ending, wanna take a guess? Some might think he stood a 50/50 chance of surviving this if he guessed correctly, but he doesn't,  and he never did. It's even in the way that she speaks, she never actually offers him a chance. If anything, she's simply presenting fate as inevitable. And when the scene proceeds, you hear the gunshot following almost immediately. Within this trailer, the one who controls all of their fates and how they are led to it, is Kafka herself. Throughout all of this, Kafka is in full control of their fate.

I'm talking nonsensically here, as in I'm just putting out thoughts almost maniacally, but I feel as if I'm connecting dots, I really feel like there's something here. But let me present you with the dialogue that I noted at the beginning one more time, and reread it after what I just talked about:

"Destiny has thousands of faces, why does it choose to wear this one?"

Not only that, but look at the shot that accompanies it. Yes, we know it's her spirit whisper due to the glow in her eyes (although I'm now also wondering, because at the beginning of the trailer, I don't see it as firmly; does it possibly grow fainter if its use is lighter?) but the entire moment is so immense, so overbearing. And the fact that this specific shot also feels as if it's a callback as well to Rorschach Inkblot's Fear Card, which is just perfect use of it by the way. But any way, let me point you to the other dialogue:

"Stealing a glance?"

And this line appears during the 'fulfillment' of the fate of the man we then see, at her hands, and let me show you the glimpse we're given of his final moments, just as she speaks those words. Stealing a glance at what, exactly? His fate? Or... fate? Is it her? Or part of it? — And lastly, there's another few lines that I want to point out, and they're at the beginning. And this, to me, is more so interesting because of the odd phrasing that was chosen for this. I do so wish I knew Chinese, because I'd love to know the source text and its weight/significance:

"Don't be afraid. Listen to me, wasn't it you, who invited me?"

Kafka. Kafka. Kafka. I need answers. Who are you talking to; to all of them? Why would they be inviting you? Unless we're talking quite literally, but then I present the question again: why?

Ugh. The Greek Fates, destiny. The Moirai, they weave the (silk) threads of fate. And then there's the spider, the arachnids that are all over her design. Silk, a spider weaves silk, fate could be, in part, represented by a spider within this universe (all en-compassing, coaxing, and yet not forcing), a spider that weaves silk, silken threads of fate. Am I overthinking this? I probably am, but this is so on the nose to me, that I can't imagine it to be a coincidence. Mihoyo doesn't do anything without meaning to. Ugh. Now if she is tied to fate in any capacity, that gives me something extra to hook into in terms of that 'humanity' that we're given glimpses of. No one knows better than fate itself that life will end, that it is therefore precious, that it is fragile, as all things within it are. And man, the sheer amount of references that she makes to very mortal things being beautiful is almost unnerving, especially this following one: "The human body is beautiful in its fragility"; there's also an odd sense of detachment from humanity when she speaks, and yet at other times, an odd sense of intricate connection (ie: her empathy towards Blade and the TB, her 'musicality'—).

Guys, I just have many thoughts.

#[ meta. ] the mara's tether is firmly in her grasp. she will not pull upon it before the designated time; nor shall she relinquish it. #[ i'm just going to make some hot chocolate for after my shower. i'm just. so overwhelmed. but thrillingly so. ] #[ bUT STILL. ]

[generic-sonic-fan]

I know you're not a Silver guy (frankly, I think nobody is) but there is something to be said about how he, literally lives in the past.

Anon, you are incorrect about the fact that "nobody is a Silver guy". I will point you in the direction of the lovely @themetalvirus and @libelelle! They are the resident CEOs of Silver and their headcanons/AUs are fan-fucking-tastic. I can't recommend them highly enough!

And secondly- I used to be a Silver guy. When I first started this blog, I considered him my favorite character! That was back before I really discovered Metal and even longer before I learned of Omega at all. I still have 3 abandoned WIP drafts starring Silver. I used to have 4, but an asker managed to drag "Edge Of Tomorrow" out of me by correctly guessing what the plot was at complete random!

One of my favorite things to think about Silver's character is actually the "culture shock" he might go through when he hangs out with his friends in the past. What do you mean people just throw food away? What is "shopping" and why does Rouge want to take me to it so bad? Stuff like that. It tickles my brain to no end to imagine this poor dude getting to experience modern luxuries for the first time. But I also think this extends into when he goes back to the future-

(and he has to go back to the future. he has to keep going and going until it's no longer depopulated, no longer burning. he must keep trying, because by god, who else is going to?)

-because Sonic and Co. send him with bagfuls of food, water, and survival supplies. Because they've seen how skinny he always is when he arrives in the past. They know his appreciation for things that are so basic to them. So they help in any way they can, even if they know they can't go with him and even if they know it might be a while until he shows back up again.

I imagine Sonic in particular feels horribly antsy about Silver's situation. Every one of his other friends is a quick run (or a short plane ride, in Knuckles' case) away, but Silver isn't. Sonic can't just go check up on him and I imagine it bothers the hell out of him.

And then Silver shows up in the past again. Almost everyone else is a little depressed that he's here, because his appearance heralds tough times, but Sonic is always ecstatic to see him.

I think Silver does consider his "true life" to be in the past. It where he can do the most good. It's where he can hope to change things for the better. It's where his friends are. The interludes in the future are merely to find out what events he needs to change.

#this post turned kinda rambly but I hope you enjoy it regardless! #silver #silver the hedgehog

[stillarandom-radfem]

Men, having a superiority complex is not the same thing as being actually superior, and actual hard evidence disputes that notion you have about yourselves all the goddamn time. Shall we take a good, hard look at it?

Men are statistically responsible for 99% of all violent crimes, and 98% of all sex crimes. Yes, that includes sex crimes against men.

All wars in human history were started by men.

Men did not invent everything. In fact, in many cases, a male stole credit for a woman's accomplishments when it comes to invention and ingenuity. I could probably compile a list of female inventors and their accomplishments, if anyone is interested.

Nor did men create everything of beauty or academic interest. In fact, many famous books were either ghostwritten by the authors' wives or stolen directly from their diaries, and many famous male artists copied their style directly from female artists of their time. I could probably compile a list of these women, too.

Ditto, again, with regard to scientific discoveries made by women. You guys really just have a knack for stealing our shit, don't you? What's the matter? Are your piddly little male brains just too nonfunctional to come up with anything useful on your own?

Speaking of which, there is exactly zero hard evidence that proves women's brains to be in any way deficient in comparison to men's. In fact, the whole notion of brain sex has been debunked about a million times over. So, I guess it must just be laziness and willful stupidity that explains why men can't seem to come up with anything useful on their own.

Women are better drivers than men. No, I'm serious. We get into fewer accidents. That's the whole reason why our car insurance rates are typically lower than men's are.

Women are currently getting more college degrees, and more advanced degrees, than men are. So, while brain sex may well be a myth, we certainly seem to be a lot better educated than you are on the whole.

The X chromosome is much bigger, hardier, and healthier than the Y chromosome, which means that female fetuses/babies are much hardier and more likely to survive in times of struggle, and women also live much longer than men on the whole. And, of course, vice versa: male babies are less likely to survive a stressful pregnancy, and males tend to die much younger than women do thanks to their deficient Y chromosome. In fact, according to science, the Y chromosome is slowly going extinct.

Honestly, gentlemen, the more I learn about this stuff, the more self-evident the reason becomes about why you keep making ridiculous superiority claims without offering any kind of supporting evidence. It's because such evidence does not exist. There is only hard evidence of female superiority, not male superiority. Yes, I said it. You are not superior; we are. Seethe and cope.

[mariana-oconnor]

Charles Augustus Milverton pt 1

This one I remember. In multiple incarnations. I don't know why, but this guy sticks with me more than Moriarty in a lot of ways. ACD did a great job of making me absolutely disgusted with him. And I'm just going to start at the top and say Fuck Him. He's the worst.

...but now the principal person concerned is beyond the reach of human law, and with due suppression the story may be told in such fashion as to injure no one.

Watson for once waiting until people are dead to drag all their sordid secrets into the light. How kind of him.

Can't help but feeling with some things people probably wouldn't want them revealed even after death, especially considering the nature of this story, but sure.

We had been out for one of our evening rambles, Holmes and I, and had returned about six o'clock on a cold, frosty winter's evening.

They regularly have long night-time walks together. And before you say it isn't night-time, it gets dark in winter in the UK at 4pm in December, so yes they absolutely walking in the dark. I won't say starlight, because this is Victorian London and the chances of seeing the sky are close to zero, but lamplit, at least.

“Who is he?” I asked. “The worst man in London,” Holmes answered

Ah, so that's why I have it so reinforced in my brain that he is the actual worst. Because he is literally introduced as the Actual Worst.

"Do you feel a creeping, shrinking sensation, Watson, when you stand before the serpents in the Zoo and see the slithery, gliding, venomous creatures, with their deadly eyes and wicked, flattened faces? Well, that's how Milverton impresses me. I've had to do with fifty murderers in my career, but the worst of them never gave me the repulsion which I have for this fellow."

Tonight the part of Charles Augustus Milverton will be played by:

But seriously, though. The emphasis that is put on how much Holmes loathes this person. Moriarty, he respected, even appreciated as an opponent, but Milverton makes his skin crawl.

This does seem like snake slander, though. What did the snakes do to deserve this?

"The fellow is a genius in his way, and would have made his mark in some more savoury trade. His method is as follows: He allows it to be known that he is prepared to pay very high sums for letters which compromise people of wealth or position. He receives these wares not only from treacherous valets or maids, but frequently from genteel ruffians who have gained the confidence and affection of trusting women."

Capitalism meet blackmail. Blackmail meet capitalism. I'm sure you're going to get along just great.

“She is to be married in a fortnight to the Earl of Dovercourt. This fiend has several imprudent letters—imprudent, Watson, nothing worse—which were written to an impecunious young squire in the country."

Could go on for a year about the utter bullshit of 'reputation' and 'honour' for women in this era and before. The way he says 'imprudent, nothing worse' indicates to me that she's just sent some slightly romantic letters. I'm guessing that there's nothing really racy about them, and even if they were. Why does anyone even care? It's all so much fucking nonsense. And if you get rid of the stigma and societal judgement attached to such things (which literally hurt no one) then people like Milverton wouldn't be able to do anything to the women. Yes, Milverton is a dickbag of astounding proportions, but he couldn't exist without society itself ensuring his continued survival with its bullshit purity culture and hypocrisy.

Attaching shame to non-harmful actions only hurts innocent people and allows horrible people to flourish. Fuck that bullshit.

/rant

Charles Augustus Milverton was a man of fifty, with a large, intellectual head, a round, plump, hairless face, a perpetual frozen smile, and two keen grey eyes, which gleamed brightly from behind broad, golden-rimmed glasses.

Of course he has a big head. He's been described as a genius, therefore his head must be large 😂.

“My dear sir, it is painful for me to discuss it; but if the money is not paid on the 14th there certainly will be no marriage on the 18th.” His insufferable smile was more complacent than ever.

Oh so painful for him to discuss.

“They are sprightly—very sprightly,” Milverton answered. “The lady was a charming correspondent. But I can assure you that the Earl of Dovercourt would fail to appreciate them."

WTF does 'sprightly' mean? Maybe I was wrong, maybe she was writing erotica to the squire. Honestly, if her husband judges her for it, then he's also a dick. Ugh ugh ugh. This man is such a prick. I hate him.

“There you make a mistake, Mr. Holmes. An exposure would profit me indirectly to a considerable extent. I have eight or ten similar cases maturing. If it was circulated among them that I had made a severe example of the Lady Eva I should find all of them much more open to reason. You see my point?”

Ah, marketing...

"I assure you that I am armed to the teeth, and I am perfectly prepared to use my weapons, knowing that the law will support me."

Here he presupposes that a) he would win and b) Holmes wouldn't be able to hide his body and cover up his death effectively. That seems a little shortsighted of him.

But yes, we leave with Holmes seemingly foiled for now, and disguised for a bit of... perhaps burglary? We know from the last story how much he enjoys burglary.

#Letters from Watson #Sherlock Holmes #Charles Augustus Milverton #Ugh #I hate this guy #long post

[k1ss-m3-b3tt3r]

✟ Mary on a Cross ✟

pairing: Khonshu x gn! reader (platonic), mentions of marc and steven

summary: you cant see khonshu but you can sense him until one day you do see him. marc tells you how much of an over-the-top asshole hes been. as marc speaks about it, you realize this might be deeper than expected.

warnings: swearing

a/n: this is my first post and first fanfic in a long time. please, be patient with me and happy reading. :)

all day, and i mean all day, you couldnt get this stupid song out of your head. it was almost like it was drilling into your brain to put it simply. even at work, your coworkers kept asking what the song was while you were unknowingly humming it. you cursed at yourself, not being able to help it at this point.

there was only one cure to this and you had to just listen to the song over and over again until you pass out, which was a common assurance due to your constant loving music ass.

“couldnt survive one day without it can i?” you said just trying to stare at the clocking zoning out, hopefully for some reason thinking it would move faster. now, what song you may ask, its mary on a cross by ghost. with that song floating around the internet, who couldnt have it stuck in their head 24/7.

“FINALLY!” you said loudy, disturbing the people around you but honestly you didnt care. you barged out of work, clocking out and just saying a quick bye to a few coworkers that, surprisingly, didnt piss you off.

luckily, you didnt miss the bus on your way home. as the bus pushed you back and forth with every stop, all a sudden your ring tone blurted out causing you to freak out for a second. “well, that was hella embarrassing.”

you read the contact, “steven? what does he want?” you looked outside and it was almost dark with the sun setting already. you knew it was a long shift but damn. you clicked the answer button and immediately heard a grumpy voice.

“ah, marc whats up?” “howd you even know,” he responded with a slow sigh after it. it took you a second but you connected the pieces. “back from work?” you asked, not surprised hearing a long yup. “do you mind coming over to drop off some milk or something. im trying to actually cook for once but its not exactly going as planned,” marc groaned loudly.

‘such a drama queen,’ you thought and honestly you might be right half the time just thinking about past occurrences. “alright, guess ill come over and cook tonight,” before he could even say anything you hung up not ready to put up with him.

‘damn it, i might not even be able to listen to the song,’ you groaned, sounding just like marc at that point. then, the bus almost threw you while saying next stop and i mean.. it is your stop so you guess you should honestly be grateful for the driver notifying you?

you moved through all the bags and people in the bus until taking a step off the bus and onto the dirty ground while carrying your satchel, which old but it worked for its purposes. you turned back and the bus was quickly turning around a corner. ‘those poor people,’ you laughed lightly to yourself.

you walked into your apartment complex and it was a bit dingy you must admit but it was home and at least you had one. you lived two doors down from marc or steven i suppose, depending on the day.

“you go down.. bloody mary mary on a-“ you swung the door open as you kept murmuring the song in and out. ‘can nothing stop the song already?’

your apartment was pretty boring, not going to lie. you had basic minimal things: a couch, crusty wooden chairs, a table that feels like its going to tip over any minute. “yeah.. maybe i should fix that soon..” you slowly muttered to yourself but reminded yourself that you had a meal to cook two door doors down.

you threw your stuff down from work and grabbed the milk, slamming it closed and sighing because you had to go back and close it gently. then strutted your way down the hall outside the apartment for which you live in and gently knocked on the door.

there was no answer. “MARC IMMA HOLLER IF YOU DONT LET ME IN!” you were so mentally tired and exhausted. eventually, the door swung open when you knocked even harder repeatedly.

“you were already hollering in the first place,” he rolled his eyes, “come in, i guess.” “you better be greatful im even cooking you food. “well, it wasnt a choice was it?” he squinted at you. what he said was true so you went around him and inside his apartment.

still looked the same: books everywhere, everything scattered but organized at the same time? ‘how the hell does that make sense?’

as you started cooking this meal, which you arent even a good cook actually, marc started ranting about his day and how khonshu, yes you know about him, was a dick. i mean, you figured after hearing marc constantly argue with them ever since you found out, which was easy. ‘people are so dumb nowadays or.. maybe im smart! nahhh’

you were constantly in your own thoughts until marc started saying stuff that concerned you a bit. “it was like khonshu was having a grumpy breakdown or just wasnt paying attention to the job! he was weird. like stop zoning out for one minute just staring at people! its creepy and on top of that, he kept mentioning how he looked constantly?-“

“what about his looks?” you inquired. “im not even sure at this point, he just comparing him and other gods and people, and how he was never really worshiped blah blah blah. besides that, it almost seemed like hes been grumpy and attention seeking, trying to “fit in” i guess. and im like STOP IT youre a god am i right?”

“hum.. are you sure it was attention seeking and not yearning for the fact that he is not like you and me?” you could sense the upsetting aura around you and knew khonshu must be there, which was a rare occurrence to you.

“you could be right or you could be wrong, im not sure,” marc actually looked thoughtful for a second before saying, “but hes a god, what more can he want. im going to take a shower, you can tell me when its done.” he walked out of there with a questionable face, but you didnt question anything as you kept stirring the pot just full of noodles and alfredo sauce.

you felt the presence growing stronger and stronger and sadder and sadder. you started humming and humming, not able to take it anymore and started up your phone playing mary on a cross, finally trying to get it out of your head. you couldnt help but sing along with it.

“but through all the sorrow we were riding highhh,” trying to hit that note and actually nailing it, you fist bumped the air and continued, “and the truth of the matter is i had to let you gooo let you gooo!”

you turned around and quiet down for a second singing, “you go down just like bloody mary… mary on a mary on a cross..”

you look up and there you were looking khonshu in his eye sockets and got a really good look at him. surprisingly, you werent startled and just kept going, “you go down just like holy mary mary on a mary on a cross”

you leaned in touching his beak letting him know you were there and could see him, “not just another bloody mary mary on a mary on aaa”

as the chorus picked up, you took your hand off and started fake drumming making the mood lighter and goofier, you werent a sap and you knew it so you did the best you could, “you go down just like holy maryy mary on a mary on a cross!”

you turn towards him and laughed a bit but these words unknowingly stuck with him harder than you anticipated, “your beauty never ever scared me!”

he turned away and laughed silently embarrassed but glad for a quick second, which was strange of him and concerning for other people but he honestly did feel better. he gave you a thought as you kept singing and vanished after saying, “thank you..”

you nod and keep singing until you hit the last verse of the song. the energy around you felt so much lighter than before and you finally got that stupid song out your head. ‘i guess it wasnt so stupid. it cheered him up at least a little bit’

marc walks into the kitchen, all dressed and ready for food clearly. as you poured the bowls you decided not to tell marc about the little interaction with khonshu and im sure khonshu wouldnt want you too either, especially after somehow seeing him, which is odd in its own way.

as you looked up marc was less irritated and just plain tired, so you guys only had a little small talk and a quick thank you before you were kicked out.

“rude!” you went into your apartment and couldnt help but think about khonshu.

“hope he feels better..”

#khonshu #khonshu x reader #moon knight x gn reader #moon knight x male reader #moon knight #moon knight x fem!reader #platonic