#genuinely cannot believe it's been seven years

[astriiformes]

Today is the seven-year anniversary of when I followed Scribe back on tumblr, which is the sort of thing that makes for a significant relationship milestone for two internet-friends-turned-queerplatonic partners.

#genuinely cannot believe it's been seven years #we have been through some fucking nonsense in that time but i am so incredibly grateful to have gone through it together #and it feels like a bit of a cosmic joke that february is now also the anniversary of her getting so sick so that's been. rough #but today all i can think about it how lucky i am to know her #scribe i love you. i'm so glad this stupid website brought us together

[essektheylyss]

One thing that I feel is really interesting and often forgotten about Essek is that fundamentally, his characterization has been from the start based upon his desperation for external perspectives and connection, which, along with much of his narrative and mechanical positioning, means that he actually has an extraordinary and almost (but not actually, as I'll show) counterintuitive capacity for both growth and trust.

(Buckle in. This is a long one.)

In particular, I would argue, knowing now that many places where the plot touches Ludinus have long been marked for connecting back into the current plot, that he was quite possibly built as a prime candidate for radicalization by the Ruby Vanguard. He felt isolated from his culture, he was desperate for other connection, and he was certainly of the type to believe he was too smart to be drawn into such a thing, given his initial belief that he could control the situation and the fallout. If things had gone any other way, he easily could've been on the other side by now.

As such, he has been hallmarked by being fairly open to suggestion, perhaps for this reason, but the thing about that kind of trait is that it is both how people are radicalized and deradicalized. This is certainly true of Essek, who experienced genuine kindness and quite frankly strangeness from the Nein and was able to move from the isolation the Assembly had engendered to meaningful and genuine connection, largely propelled by his own internal reflection. By the time Nein are aware of his crimes, he's already begun to express regret to an extent and, furthermore, doubt in the Assembly, including explicitly drawing a line against Ludinus, even in a position where he was on his own and probably quite vulnerable.

Similarly, when the Nein reach the Vurmas Outpost some weeks later, he has moved from regret for the position he's ended up carrying a heavy remorse. This makes sense! He's fairly introspective, seems used to spending a lot of time in his own head, and was left with plenty to mull over. It's not some kind of retcon for him to have progressed well past where the Nein left him; it just means he's an active participant in the world who has done his own work in the meantime.

This is another interesting aspect to him. I've talked about this a bit before but I cannot find the post so I'll recap here: antagonists in D&D have significantly more agency than allied NPCs. Antagonists are active forces, against which the party is meant to struggle; allies are meant to support the PCs, which means they tend to be more passive in both their actions and their character growth. Essek was both built as an antagonist, in a position that gives him significant agency, and also was then given significant opportunity to grow specifically to act as a narrative mirror for Caleb's arc. Even when he becomes a more traditional D&D ally, he still retains much of that, though he occupies a supporting role.

I believe that this is especially true because of the nature of Caleb's arc, which I've already written on; the tl;dr of this post is that Caleb is both convinced that he is permanently ruined and also desperate to prove that change is possible. Essek is that proof, because he is simply the character in a position to do so. But this also means that his propensity for introspection and openness is accentuated! He has to do the legwork on his own, for the most part, because that's where he is in the meantime.

But he still ends the campaign necessarily constricted; he is under significant scrutiny, he's at risk from the Assembly, and he goes on the run fairly soon after the story ends. He spends most of the final arc anxious and paranoid, which is valid given the crushing reality of his situation. It would be very easy to extrapolate that seven years into this reality, he would be insular, closed off, and suspicious of strangers, even in spite of the lessons he's learned from the Nein and their long term exposure.

So seeing his openness and lightness now is surprising, but at the same time, given this combination of factors in his position in the narrative over time and his defining traits, it's not by any means unreasonable.

But one thing that I found so delightful is how much trust he exhibits, which is obviously a wild thing to say about Essek in particular, given much of what he learns is both earning and offering trust, which was something he says explicitly in 2x124 that he's never really experienced: "I've never really been trusted and so I did not trust." It makes up much of the progression of his relationship with Caleb, and the trust that he is offered by the Nein in walking off the ship is the impetus he needs to grow.

But I think it's easy to talk about trust when it comes to people who have proven themselves to you or to whom you've ingratiated yourself, and that's really the most we can say about Essek by the time he leaves the Blooming Grove. There is this sense in a lot of discussion of trust (not solely in this fandom) that it is only related to either naivete or love, but there's far more to it. Trust at its best is deliberate—cultivating an openness to the world at large is a great way to combat cynicism and beget connection instead. It allows a person to maintain curiosity and be open to experience, but it can be incredibly difficult to hold onto.

It is clear that the Essek we meet now is a very pointedly and intentionally trusting individual. He trusts Caleb and by extension Caleb's trust in Keyleth, as he shows up and picks up a group of strangers from a foreign military encampment and walks in without issue. He trusts the Hells to follow his lead moving through Zadash and to exhibit enough discretion so as to avoid bringing suspicion upon all of them. He trusts that Astrid will respond well to his entrance, but he also trusts himself and the Hells enough to execute a back-up plan in the case that she doesn't. In the end, he even trusts them enough to give them his name and identity.

He doesn't scan as someone who has spent half a dozen years living like a prey animal, afraid of any shadow he runs across in an alley, withdrawn into himself and an insular family, which would've been an easy route for him to take. He scans as someone who has learned the kind of trust borne of learned confidence and a trained eye for good will and kindness, which are crucial weapons one would need for staving off cynicism in his circumstances—as if he has survived thanks more to connection and kindness than paranoia and isolation. (If we want to be saccharine about it, he scans quite poignantly as a member of the Mighty Nein.)

So it is easy to imagine this trust and openness as a natural progression of his initial search for perspectives external to his own cultural knowledge. Though he makes those first connections with the Assembly to try to vindicate his personal hypotheses, he finds in them exposure to the deepest corruption among Exandrian mortals, which could've—and did, for a time—turned him further down that same dark path.

But it's also this same openness to exposure from the wider world that allows the Nein to influence him for the better, and in spite of the challenges he's certainly faced simply surviving over the past seven years, he seems to have held onto this openness enough to move through the world with self-assurance and a willingness to extend the kinds of trust and good will that he has been shown.

(I would be remiss not to mention that I was reminded about my thoughts on this by this lovely post from sky-scribbles and their use in the tags of 'light' to describe Essek's demeanor this episode, which is really such an apt word for it.)

#something something hope is a weapon hope is a discipline hope is a garden to cultivate!!! #HE'S SO GOOD HE IS TRULY EXEMPLAR OF THE WHOLE PHILOSOPHY OF THE NEIN AND I DO NOT THINK THAT'S AN ACCIDENT #truly just like. enormous proponent of letting trust and curiosity into your heart regardless of the horrors. #it's hard and it makes you more vulnerable and sometimes it hurts so so much but it will also save your fucking life! #cr spoilers #critical role #essek thelyss #cr meta #I was gonna apologize for the length but I'm not sorry. I'm also not sorry for being insane about him but he's so special to me. #head in my hands he's so GOOD HE'S BEST BOI! GUIDING LIGHT NORTH STAR!!! LOOK AT HIM!!! #also truly if i had two nickels for a span of time with no essek sightings where I wrote a lot of fic #with deliberate personal acknowledgment that I was writing some pretty maximal arcs for him in terms of character growth #and then end up getting essek for half an episode and having to go OH WE'RE GOING THAT FAR ACTUALLY. FUCKING INCREDIBLE. #yanno. two nickels. but good lord I am thriving that it's happened twice #augh this is ONE of the pieces I need to write this week. we're not gonna talk about it

[beautifulpersonpeach]

so just to confirm, jikookers genuinely believe that in an extremely homophobic military system and country that just reaffirmed the illegality of any form of homosexual interaction during enlistment (to the point that they can face a prison sentence), two queer individuals in a gay relationship would put themselves, their relationship, and their careers at risk by enlisting in the same camp together through the buddy system in which they will have to be together essentially at all times surrounded by other soldiers, supervisors etc for 18 months? there is no private time or sneaking off in the military so jikookers genuinely think that while already dealing with the stress and difficulty of enlistment within itself, jimin and jungkook would subject themselves to an extra stressor of controlling their emotions and actions with each other at all times for that long? like you all actually think they said “yeah fuck it we’d rather be by each others side while facing the risk of getting caught, sent to prison, and having our careers destroyed instead of being separated for just 18 months out of our whole lives”. like how do u think they’d even remotely survive those 18 months?

***

You know, when you put it that way I think you have a point. It's ludicrous to think two queer men can co-habit in the same unit without climbing all over each other and outing themselves. Jikookers must've been deaf, blind, all thinking faculties out to lunch when Jungkook talked about how Seven is autobiographical (the female subject in the song not being just a technicality). Expecting Jungkook of all people to go days, weeks, and months on end without fucking his main squeeze is kinda nuts ngl. Especially when everybody knows gay men are overly promiscuous, deviant, sex-addicted sons of Lucifer who just happen to look good in perms and eyeliner. One glance at all that cake Jimin got in the back and Jungkook will start keening like blue-balled bonobo before jumping him in broad daylight. Right? Perhaps it's a wonder jikook survived 10 years in the spotlight while being in the most hyper-visible group in a homophobic society, even representing their homophobic country in official capacities.

What good is a relationship if you cannot have sex for any period of time, after all? Can you even call that a relationship?

Also, your point about how there's no private time in the military is a godsend because it just reminded me of a curious phenomenon that happened this year. I noticed it happened maybe two or three times this year when ARMYs and even people tangentially related to ARMYs collectively hallucinated seeing Seokjin and Hoseok outside the military base. In fact, this is what's convinced me beyond all reasonable doubt that BTS's fandom is a cult.

Anyway, I'm rambling.

Jikookers must be dumb, high, or both to think it's a good thing for jikook to possibly mean more to each other and still choose to enlist together under the Buddy program. Clearly it's unthinkable for a couple to weigh the strength they could gain by being together, as more important than the risk of being caught in an explicitly compromising situation. It's silly of jikookers to think companionship can happen in all sorts of ways even while in the military; and flat out ridiculous of them to believe that jikook at the end of the day started out as friends, have been through some of their most life-defining moments together, and are still one of the closest pairings in BTS.

Thank you for taking the time to share such an enlightening opinion with me, Anon. Your ideas were persuasive and yes, you have me convinced. It is impossible for jikook to be jikooking in the military ergo jikook must not exist.

#jikook

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

My darling Ange, I climb into thy askhole and kindly request some pegging Aemond content. Doesn’t matter if he’s full on submissive or a power bottom, your choice, i’ll take both with open arms and a prepped strap! Much love😽

HERE YOU GO, BOO <3 ENJOY

Warnings: Smut, references to past unpleasant sexual experiences, mention of loss of virginity, pegging (lol) Word count: ~2.5k

Aemond was not sexually experienced when he married her. His expedition with Aegon to the pleasure house in the Street of Silk on this thirteenth name day had been enough to kill his curiosity with regards to carnal acts of the flesh. There’d been so much skin on display, noises and movements he didn’t understand, and not an affectionate gaze shared between anyone he laid eyes on. He’d turned on his heels and run, deciding from that day forward that that was simply something not meant for him.

He was twenty when his mother, encouraged by his grandsire, had decided it was time for him to marry. He had no thoughts on the matter, accepting that it was something expected of him as part of his duties as a Prince of the Seven Kingdoms. The match chosen for him was a young woman, nineteen years of age, of noble birth and from a House that would prove advantageous in securing Aegon’s claim to the throne

She was pretty enough, he supposed. Most surprising was that she didn’t flinch away from his appearance. She seemed to genuinely delight in his company, asking questions about him out of actual interest rather than forced politeness. He finds himself becoming excited for their impending nuptials when he catches sight of her in the library, engrossed in a book. She is fascinating to him.

His lips are cold and chaste against hers when they share their first kiss after exchanging vows in the Sept. Hers are soft and warm and they press to his with enthusiasm. He pulls away, wide-eyed, heart hammering wildly in his chest as she beams up at him. She’d actually wanted to kiss him, and it seemed like she’d enjoyed it. 

It then dawns on him what is to be expected of him after the wedding. In the lead up to the ceremony, his mind had been so preoccupied that he’d never stopped to consider the bedding. His mind travels back to the sights and sounds of the brothel and dread gnaws away at his insides. How could he possibly subject her to that? She is too good for that and even if that were not the case, he doesn’t believe he has it in him.

Aemond stands rigid and uncomfortable when they retire to their marital chambers following the wedding feast. He hadn’t touched his food and had barely spared her a glance during their first dance together as husband and wife, his nerves were too great.

Gently, she reaches up a hand to cup his cheek, coaxing him to look at her. “What troubles you husband?"

The concern that overcomes her delicate features, coupled with her addressing him as “husband” causes his heart to flutter, and shame burns hotly in his cheeks as he makes his confession. “I-I cannot bed you.”

“Then you don’t have to.” She says softly. “Not until you are ready.”

He is overwhelmed by emotion and affection for her. Nobody has ever treated him with such care before. He stares at her for a moment, the tension dissipating from him as he relaxes his shoulders, before surging forward to capture her lips with his own.

They lay tangled together that night, their mouths meeting in urgency into the small hours, and that is as far as they dare to go. Aemond is thankful his position as second son negates the need for a bedding ceremony or for the sheets to be checked for evidence of his wife’s purity the following morning.

As the weeks press on, the urge to do more than just kiss his wife plagues Aemond. As he hovers above her, her doe-eyed gaze is filled with adoration and he can’t help but think how different this experience feels compared with what he witnessed in Flea Bottom all those years ago. She is warm and kind, she makes him feel safe, and she looks oh so beautiful with her hair fanned out across the pillows beneath her head. He can scarcely believe he ever thought of her as just pretty. 

He reasons that the urges he feels for her are not depraved because he is in love with her, and so a month after their marriage, it is finally consummated. Aemond’s jaw goes slack when he first pushes inside of her, her tight, wet heat enveloping him in a way that causes his vision to fog and his mind to empty. Her body slots against his so perfectly and she feels so good, he is almost annoyed he has forced them both to wait this long; they could have been doing this - this - the entire time.

From that point onward Aemond seizes every opportunity to be intimate with her, she is like an addiction to him and he cannot get enough. He is thrilled that his feelings towards her are reciprocated and she is as eager to please him as he is her. They spend hours exploring each other’s bodies, finding out what each other’s likes and dislikes are, while making use of some of the more salacious reading material within the Red Keep’s library to educate themselves on how best to pleasure each other.

When Aemond is tired and sore from training, but still wants to indulge in the intimacy that only his wife can provide, his favourite thing to do is lay top to tail with her, his head resting on the soft flesh of her inner thigh as he licks lazily between her legs, bringing her to peak as she rests at the opposite end of him, driving him to the apex of his own pleasure with her mouth.

They are engaging in this activity when it first happens - her hand moves to cup his sac as her mouth works up and down his length and her finger accidentally grazes the entrance to his rear, at least he thinks it’s an accident. He jerks away, startled, and she apologises profusely, but there is no denying the jolt that the sensation of her touching there had sent straight to the tip of his cock.

“Do it again.” He rasps.

She smiles, circling her finger around his puckered hole as she takes him back into her mouth and when he eventually climaxes he feels he may black out from the force of it.

They have been married six months before she finally works up the courage to breach the tight ring of muscle and insert her finger. The sensation is foreign to Aemond at first and he tenses up, unsure if such a violation is something he really enjoys. That is until she curves her digit and brushes against a spot deep inside of him that causes his stones to tighten in a way that makes his erection throb. His grip on her hair tightens and as he finally releases it is with such potency that she pulls away coughing and spluttering as it unexpectedly hits the back of her throat. After that it becomes a regular part of their shared oral indulgences and Aemond has no complaints.

Another half a year passes and she comes to him in their chambers one evening, a mischievous glint in her eye and a cloth wrapped package in her hands.

“I thought we might try something new.” She says.

“And what might that be?” He eyes her curiously, as she unwraps the cloth covered object.

It is a phallic shaped object, made of black leather, with two, long cotton strips attached to the end. She places it into his hands and when he gives it an experimental squeeze, he can feel that the leather has been stuffed rigid with fabric - more cotton, he guesses.

Aemond raises an eyebrow in question and she blushes before speaking.

“You know how I use my fingers to…well…when we are..you know…”

“Yes, I know.” He cuts in with a wry smile, putting her out of her misery.

She looks gratefully up at him. “Well, I thought we might try something more…if you are open to it?”

“Oh.” He says. “Oh!” Realisation dawns as he looks at the object he now holds. “So what exactly would you do with…this?”

“Well, Aegon says that-”

“Aegon?! Did you get this from Aegon?” His voice raises, yanking his hands back as though he has been scolded, allowing the leather shaft to fall to the floor with a dull thud.

“No.” She responds, stepping forward to gently take hold of his forearms, in an attempt to soothe him. “I asked Aegon for advice, but I had this specially made for us.”

“We will not be engaging in any depravity suggested by my drunken half-wit brother!” Aemond’s nostrils flare with outrage. “And that,” He points towards the offending item, “Is going nowhere near me.”

She nods in understanding and they speak no more of it. Their bedroom activities resume as normal over the coming weeks.

She has two fingers inside of him, her tongue lapping along the length of his shaft as he fucks her with his tongue, when the memory of what she’d shown him crosses his mind again. It sends a shiver of excitement down his spine and before he can stop himself he is propping himself up on his elbows to ask about it.

“What you showed me…do you still have it?”

She stops what she is doing and smirks at him. “Why, yes, dearest husband. What makes you ask?”

His breath is shaky as she pumps lazily at him. “D-do you think we could try it?”

Wordlessly she lets go of him and crawls to the furthest corner of the bed to rummage beneath it. She produces the familiar fabric package, pulling it open to reveal the object Aemond had requested alongside a small cork stoppered bottle of oil.

Aemond swallows thickly, apprehension bleeding together with his excitement. “Will you talk me through it? I want to understand what’s going to happen.”

She gives an encouraging nod. “Well, first, you need to be in a position that’s comfortable. I am told it’s best for you to be on your back, with your backside slightly elevated.”

He lifts his hips to accommodate the pillows that she takes from the head of the bed and places underneath him. In spite of his nudity, he feels oddly exposed by the unusual angle he finds himself laid at. Mercifully, she continues on with her explanation, sparing his discomfort from evolving into mortification.

“This.” She picks up the leather member and uses the fabric strips to fasten it around her hips. “Ties around me. It will allow me to thrust into you as you do to me.”

Aemond’s breath hitches at this, his cheeks flushing hotly. There is a part of him that feels humiliated by the idea of allowing himself to be used, penetrated in the way that a woman is, yet at the same time it has his erection throbbing as it lays flat against his lower abdomen, aching for attention.

“I’ll need to ease the passage of entry.” She explains, holding up the bottle of oil and uncorking it. “Which is where this comes in. Spreading this along the phallus and around your hole will lessen the discomfort.”

Aemond’s breathing picks up, unable to stop himself from stroking at his prick as her fingers work to lubricate his rear, before she spreads a generous slick of oil along the makeshift shaft.

“Stop that.” She chides softly, lightly smacking his hand away from him. “If you peak before we start there is no point in doing it.”

Aemond whines in frustration, his composure crumbling. “Get on with it…please.”

She tuts at him. “Patience. I must prepare you first.”

His eye flutters closed as she pushes her index finger inside of him, dragging it back and forth experimentally. He is unable to contain his moan of pleasure as she slowly adds a second, a slight scissoring motion working to stretch him wider. Droplets of pearly essence secrete from the swollen tip of him, dripping onto his stomach as she enters a third.

“Finally you’re ready for me.” She purrs seductively, withdrawing her fingers and pressing the tip of the phallus against the slight gape of his ring.

She pushes forward slowly and Aemond’s body instinctively stiffens, it is too much, too invasive. He grips the sheets so hard that his knuckles turn white with the effort.

“Breathe for me, my love.” She coaxes. “I don’t wish to hurt you.”

He takes a deep breath, his body going lax as she is finally seated fully within him. She stills, allowing him to adjust as he gets used to the intrusive feel of it. He has never felt so full. The sight of her above him like this, inside of him, sets his heart racing.

“Gods…” He croaks. “Move. Please.”

She obliges, slowly dragging her hips back before pushing them forward again. She repeats this motion over and over, each time he feels the spot inside of him brushed ever so slightly, but it is not enough.

With a snarl, he sits up, pulling her to him and fucking himself against her, the thrust of his pelvis against hers infinitely more brutal than the pace she’d set.

“Eager, are we?” She says with a giggle, clearly happy to indulge him.

Aemond’s only response is a wanton moan, the tip of his erection an angry looking red as it is pressed between them, spreading slick across both their abdomens.

She leans back, taking hold of it and stroking it in time with each thrust. Aemond’s eye rolls back, the pressure building in his balls and the base of his spine reaching a fever pitch as he continues to work himself against his wife’s marital aid.

As he feels himself drawing nearer, his pace falters, becoming erratic and sloppy. Each blow to the rough patch deep inside of him pushes him closer to oblivion. It seems that she senses it too, speeding up her ministrations over his member.

As Aemond topples over the edge he is certain his soul has left this mortal coil. He lets out a strangled cry, a sound he is unaware he is even capable of making, as white hot sparks flash behind his eye. His entire body goes rigid, gripping onto her for dear life as he paints them both with his spend.

She releases him and carefully pulls out when he starts to jerk against her with oversensitivity. He collapses back onto the mattress, succumbing to exhaustion, breathing heavily.

Discarding the toy to one side, she cuddles into his side. “How was that, husband?”

“Mmmm…I saw stars.” He murmurs. “Give me a moment to recover and I shall ensure that you see them too.”

#aemond targaryen #aemond #prince aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond stannies #pro aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen fan fiction #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fan fic #hotd fan fiction #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fan fic #hotd smut #house of the dragon smut

[viathecloset]

Taehyung and jungkook's relationship is overlooked by 90% of the fandom solely because they are so controlled by the narrative of the fandom/company that they cannot quite accept that anything outside is even a remote possibility. Ive been more of a quiet observer for years now [my sister's an army since 2015] and I've seen the boys, moreover I know how marketing and kpop works. It's quite evident if u observe close enough of the pattern on how this group of seven guys who genuinely love music is marketed you would understand to what extent you're being brainwashed. Im not talking about this like a conspiracy theorist. It's quite simple and right infront of you. Yall refuse to accept it that's all.

1. There are a certain set of stories that are made to be told by them, over and over again. Even if it disturbs them or they are bored. E.g: 2018 disbandment story, vmin dumpling incident, jikook rain fight/tokyo trip, mind you there are many things that happend between people who lived together for 10+ yrs but if it cuts the flow of events you are made to believe happened you aren't gonna hear from it, ever.

2. Like stories there are dynamics that each pair is supposed to portray Taegi as annoying/annoyed duo, taejin/jikook as flirty HS boyfriends, namseok/taekook the awkward old friends and no matter how much the relationships change or evolve you won't see it cuz again, it won't FIT the narrative that has already been shown.

3. Like relationships there are characteristics that thankfully some members chose to break out of during their solo era: hoseok always being sunshine and loud ( he's quite serious and very dedicated infact ), jungkook being that muscle dude who only knows how to follow his Hyungs ( he's very independent and has a lot of targets he wants to achieve individually, he's very thoughtful and organized) and Taehyung being WEIRD and weak ( he's extremely intelligent and super strong he's strategic and disciplined)

4. This brings us to the whole Taekook narrative, the fact that they've been seen so much during solo era yet people had the audacity to still call them distant and awkward solely cuz it wasn't via company but through Taehyung's ig or jungkook mentioning him in interviews etc. I think it's needless to say they aren't comfortable being touchy and showy on camera for content, hell if they were to shoot everytime Taehyung and jungkook hangout there would he enough CONTENT till 2067. They're supportive of eo and have a very big shared friend circle, when jungkook went missing for almost 2 months we got to know Taehyung was the one he was with.

5. The thing is everyone [ including my own sister ] thinks that Taehyung is being desperate or such whenever he mentions Taehyung cuz a. Yall have actually led jokers run so fucking rampant that everytime the man mentions him actually doing something you're ready to throw him under the bus and call him a liar or such. b. Im not saying jungkook isn't close to anyone else but when he isn't working or shooting content and just wants to be himself the one you saw him most was around Taehyung and yes it matters. In the name of hating shippers yall have not only dissed the quite frankly PRIVATE bond they seem to share but went as far as dissing Taehyung himself cuz of the extreme level of manipulation yall are under.

Ik imma find armys [jikookers ]under this sooner or later calling me names but to be honest I'm sick and tired of yall dissing very real people and their very real human relationships solely based off the content yall are made to believe is 100% candid. Go touch grass, get friends, go date, don't obsess over them for a while then come back and try seeing it from a neutral perspective.

#taekook #taehyung #jungkook #bts #tumbler #opinion #fandom ships

[heretherebedork]

And here we get to the real heart of why Yoh doubts his relationship with Segasaki constantly and why he cannot face or accept the idea that he might truly like him, care for him and love him.

Because Yoh looks at himself and goes why.

And then the rest of it is just insulting all his possible talents and all the issues inherent in his attempts to be a manga artist and we really get to see how poorly he views himself, how badly he thinks he of his own life and how he looks at his relationship with Segasaki as absolutely impossible in reality.

I mean, just look at him. This is literally how he describes himself. And then when he gets mocked he can't even argue but we know he doesn't feel loved and isn't convinced that Segasaki cares at all most of the time. It's that insecurity, that certainty of how much he's failed as a person that leaves him like this, trapped in a place that could make him happy but isn't.

And then we get to the peak conflict of the episode... when Yoh's insecurities meet what Segasaki wants for him and both of their struggles with words come to a head.

And this was when Segasaki fucked up and had absolutely no idea because he has no idea how Yoh takes that statement. None. Absolutely not a clue. Not even a hint of knowledge.

Segasaki fucked up because he is trying to tell Yoh that he wants to support him and take care of him and spoil him and love him but instead, because of Yoh's insecurities and doubts and misunderstanding about their relationship, he comes across as insulting and belittling what Yoh is trying to do.

Way to take the exact opposite of what he means in the moment but it also makes sense in a way. Because Yoh doesn't believe that Segasaki loves him or cares for him but rather than Segasaki is just using him, taking advantage of him, tricking him in some way. Despite all evidence to the contrary, Yoh simply cannot trust Segasaki.

Segaski is trying to say "I just don't want you to overwork yourself or worry about anything and I don't care about your success because I want you to be safe and here and loved." but all Yoh hears is "I don't care" because Segasaki never says the part about love outloud, only through actions, and so Yoh basically starts the seven stages of grief and lands squarely in anger.

And this is the ultimate breakdown in their really bad communication. Because now Yoh isn't just hurt or insulted, he's hurt and insulted and he feels like he doesn't matter, like his dreams were just ignored and that everything Segasaki has been saying came from a place that suddenly is much more sinister and hurtful. Yoh feels devalued and insulted and like his dreams don't matter to the one person he thought was doing this to support him.

Just the absolute shock on Segasaki's face here, the way he cannot believe what is happening and doesn't have any idea why Yoh went from snuggled in his arms to yelling at him about making fun of him. Segasaki genuinely does not know what just happened. He was trying to be supportive and loving and making sure Yoh knew he didn't have to take risks or overwork himself or put himself in danger and suddenly Yoh is just losing his shit at him.

And then Segasaki decides to track him. To follow him and see where he goes. It's meant as protection because he sees how upset he is and he believes he's desperate enough to do anything but also, dude, why do you have their airtags just lying around? I love Segasaki because he's fucked up but I wasn't sure I was expecting this.

Oh, next week is about how this all actually started three years ago and what happened that lead to what we see now.

#my personal weatherman #segasaki x yoh #japanese bl #taikan yoho #bl drama #bl series #asianlgbtqdramas #asian lgbtq dramas #japanese bl series #japanese series #jbl #jdrama #japanese bl drama #bl jdrama #jdrama bl #i love them so much

[snowyh2o]

Been thinking about this a little, and it kinda confuses me that people took the interaction Alastor had with Husk in episode 5 and came to the conclusion that Alastor treats and thinks of Husk as a pet?

In that interaction, it is very very obvious that just about everything Alastor says to Husk after he says how no one would dare attack the Radio Demon, is meant to aggravate and get on Husk’s nerves. And what would be more humiliating and anger inducing than calling him a pet because of how he looks? But just because Alastor says it, that doesn’t mean he actually believes or thinks that way about Husk. He was saying it specifically to get on Husk’s nerves because Husk was getting on his nerves.

Throughout that whole interaction Alastor was trying to end the conversation and leave, and Husk was trying to bring Alastor back into the conversation and take his concerns seriously. But when Alastor keeps deflecting, Husk starts poking at some sore spots, and it’s very clear that Alastor does not want Husk to be talking about that stuff. That he doesn’t want Husk snooping around in what happened seven years ago, and why he’d been missing for seven years. He knows Husk is perceptive, that might be why Alastor keeps him around so much, but he doesn’t need or want Husk to start sniffing out his dirt too. And if Husk keeps asking this line of questioning, then maybe he’ll stumble upon a truth Alastor cannot afford to let him know.

So Alastor does what Alastor does best, he gets under Husk’s skin, starts pissing Husk off to redirect the conversation to something else, something safer. Gain control of the situation again. He’s very overbearing with Husk, gets right up into his space, and does things he knows Husk hates. And he does this to try and make Husk angry enough to forget about what they were just talking about earlier. How close Husk was to some semblance of the truth. And, it backfires. Horribly.

But that’s why I don’t think Alastor actually thinks of Husk as a pet, it’s just something he knows Husk hates, and so uses it against him. Because Alastor genuinely seems to value/respect Husk’s advice. And Husk went to speak to Alastor with the assumption that Alastor would actually take his concerns seriously and listen. And that’s not the kind of dynamic you’d expect if one party just thought of or treated the other as an amusing little pet they keep around.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #Husk #husk hazbin hotel #character meta #character analysis #Alastor meta #Alastor analysis

[hyperactivewhore]

I’m not a Hayley/Klaus shipper, but even I gotta admit they’re so similar. They are both so delusional that it’s kinda funny. Hayley genuinely thought she still had a shot with Tyler after helping in the murder of the hybrids. I don’t know what kinda drugs she was on at the time or if she was really that confident - but I actually kinda impressed by her delusions.

Klaus himself is simply delusional. He is on his own little planet. He has daggered his siblings so many times, has hurt them in unspeakable ways, and yet, he is continually shocked/hurt when they betray him - as if he didn’t hurt them first. Him being so depressed when Rebekah or Elijah betrays or hurts him is kinda funny. He’s like a kicked puppy. In his head, their betrayal is totally uncalled for - but him locking his siblings in coffins for centuries at a time is necessary.

They’re so delusional that it’s sad but entertaining at the same time.

Yeah, honestly, for me, it feels kinda weird to actually ship them due to how similar both of them are.

They obviously aren't platonic, considering they slept together, have a whole child and were obviously attracted to each other at one point, but I honestly cannot see them getting in a relationship and most of all managing to make it work.

While I do believe Hayley had slight character development and Klaus had close to none, they needed three and a half seasons to even be able to be in the same room without wanting to kill each other. Hayley hated the fact that Klaus was her daughter's father and Hope even believed her mother hated the fact she slept with her father once. Like it's crazy to me they slept together while complaining about how they would never get a chance with their corresponding crushes of the time. Their treatment towards Tyler and Caroline had simply been awful, and while Klaus had the chance to sleep with Caroline due to fanservice, Hayley never got to be with Tyler, who seemed outright disgusted anytime she flirted with him.

Shippers often act like Klaus and Hayley never had the chance to be together, due to haylijah, klamille, or Hayley's marriage to Jack, but it's just false because they had a lot of time to act on their "feelings" but they never did simply because there were none. Hayley was alone with Klaus for two months during her pregnancy yet nothing ever happened, Klaus even went back to screw Caroline and was busy sleeping with Genevieve while Hayley was in a swamp the last months of her pregnancy. They had seven years too, but nothing ever happened.

And let's not act like Klaus couldn't go for Hayley. If there was a woman he definitely could be with, it was her: they were both immortal, she was a part of his family whether he liked it or not and she was his daughter's mother. He didn't need to stay away from her to protect her, like he did with Cami, because she didn't need him to, but nothing happened either.

But I definitely get the appeal of Klaus and Hayley as a couple, I shipped them once too, but I honestly just can't see them in a romantic relationship, especially because they were just family in canon.

I kinda drifted from what I was trying to say, but thanks for the ask anyway!

#anti klayley #klaus mikaelson #hayley marshall #elijah mikaelson #camille o'connell #caroline forbes #jackson kenner #hope mikaelson

[rawliverandgoronspice]

If Ganondorf was lying to anyone during that Wind Waker speech, he’d be lying to himself. The gerudo desert was indeed harsh, and Hyrule sucked during his time, but legit everything he did in Ocarina of Time is completely unjustifiable, except for the murder of the King of Hyrule. The man sat in luxury for 7 years with monsters surrounding the land, while his people remained in the desert. Yet at the end of the day, he believed that he had every right to do all of that.

Self-justification isn’t a trait that’s outright noticeable with Ganondorf, but Wind Waker puts it out in the open and shows that yes, the self proclaimed “King of Evil” truly believes he’s deserving of the world, and that his circumstances justify his crimes.

I feel like the fandom misses that while Ganondorf may not be this complex 5d villain, he still carries an interesting amount of traits like this

Hey, thanks for the ask!! I'm sorry, I haven't slept in over 24h and felt particularly rhapsodic today so uhhhh sorrryyyyy for being cringe about my little guyyyyyy (and the approximate use of English language that might ensue)

So yeah, I think there's absolutely a huge part of that, trying to make sense of the violently absurd situation he found himself in, a monster and one of the last people who remembers Hyrule and how it was destroyed, and rationalizing to himself why it is not meaningless.

I have to say, not to be uhhh a parody of myself, but I think it could be a little bit more complicated than that (all of it being interpretations of the text that I don't think canon entirely backs always, but my point is that it could be read out of it).

If Ganondorf wanted any meaningful chance to reshape his own reality, then there's no doing that without access to the Triforce. If he had wanted to go for the King's head and nothing else, he would have been stopped immediately by everybody who do have access to shards of the keys to the Sacred Realm (not to mention how trigger happy Zelda was about wishing ????? something to the Triforce about erasing him in some form). I don't think it would have been reasonable to aim for anything but the Triforce as a military goal --not to mention that his beef is half with Hyrule, and half with the Goddesses themselves for considering the gerudos beneath them in some form and for some reason (which becomes even more apparent and deranged in Wind Waker, as part of why he can't let go of Hyrule in my opinion is because their intervention was so violent he simply cannot wrap his head around it and, as usual, Will Not Be Defeated >:((( because he's that kind of bitter little shithead, which I uhhhh relate to a little too much maybe). And then, well. You can't exactly ask for the Triforce and be nice about it, right?

I'm not saying he wasn't gleefully horrible about it the entire time, but I can absolutely see a case of him being self-centered enough to see each of his actions as the necessary (or righteous/vengeful) next step to get closer to his goals, and one thing leads to the other, and after seven years of strife, well, the kingdom you wanted to rule is a pile of rubble, ash and misery you enforced at every step, and oops! You have alienated absolutely everyone who aren't your weird moms!

There's a ton of things to say about the many interpretations that could be made of his relationship to the gerudos so I won't over-expand on that, but, uhhhh yeah he probably used them, or at the very least ruled them with an iron fist to enforce his own power he believed unquestionnable (even if the goal was genuinely to do things for their sake, which in my opinion could still be argued --Hyrule is a big nightmare place during his reign, but the Valley is the only location basically untouched with arguably Kakariko after all).

To be honest, I think TP Ganondorf is more accursed with a sense of self-justification than WW Ganon, who has a surprising amount of clarity on his own motives (to restate my tags on a post I just reblogged: I don't think "I coveted this wind, I suppose" is particularly self-pitying, it's soberingly self-aware if anything). TP Ganon is the one who's obsessed with divine purpose and considering himself a weird take on the Chosen One.

But yeah, I think... To be completely honest, I sometimes feel like Ganondorf's potential (!!! not actual execution, very important to draw this distinction) is just kind of too large for the IP that birthed him? The full breadth of his complexity cannot be explored in a setting that demands he merely generates a simple conflict that doesn't seriously question the status quo while everything about him inherently begs for it (and I love Zelda and its simplicity and what it does, to be very clear!). Like, I know this is just me justifying my own investment to a degree, but... his relationship to the gerudo culture, his relationship to gender, to divinity, to fate, to self-definition, to absolute resistance grinded down to the point of absurdity (but at the same time, what else is there to do)... like all of this absolutely has potential to be large and epic and breathtaking, but. Nintendo needs to preserve the statut quo. And Ganondorf just cannot express all of these themes without having this simple world literally collapse around him.

This is what I find incredibly compelling about this dramatic disaster of a guy. And the very media that suggested all of these contradictions and inner conflicts (without necessarily understanding them at first I think) is now fighting tooth and nail against what it introduced, what he can embody and once questioned (in WW most potently) for the sake of Hyrule's moral balance, backpedalling into a state of simplicity that just never truly existed to that degree before --partially, in my opinion, because this conflict is scary to face heads on without taking significant artistic risks I am not confident we will ever see again, to be uhh less than optimistic.

So yeah! He isn't that complicated as the villain of the children video games for sure!! But. As a character, there's so much there, just sitting right under the surface.

#asks #ganondorf #wind waker #ww #oot #ocarina of time #gerudos #thanks for the ask!! I'm genuinely sorry for my lyrical whatever #he doesn't deserve any of this he's a shithead #but #I've been having a six months long existential crisis about everything awful and everything incredible about this character #(it's been dormant for years but it did hit like a truck all at once) #so I kind of splattered my thoughts everywhere sorryyyy #and I didn't even mention the hyrulean civil war #the sheikahs #the gerudo tradition #the influence of koume and kotake #etc etc etc #bitches be like “no I don't defend ganondorf's actions!!” and then write poetics about tragedy and ambiguity and legitimacy #and talk shit about the goddesses #anyway that's me I'm bitches welcome to my blog #(descant and everything I write is exactly about what I just expressed above) #(but less sleep deprived and more Story) #((I'm publishing the next chapter soon btw I just need to adjust it but it's a difficult one))

[wolfofansbach]

Personal thoughts and meditations upon the occasion of the Riverdale series finale. 

Probably like four people are going to read this but I feel compelled to write it out anyway. This show has genuinely been a massive part of my life. I watched the first episode because some high school friends encouraged me to (IRONICALLY, BRO). I was in high school when I started this show. Those friends of course long ago fell away, unable to continue, unable to wacth anymore, but I have kept the faith. All seven seasons. Every. Single. Episode.

I’m not even entirely sure what captivated me so much about the show. I loved the atmosphere of season 1. I genuinely wanted to find out who killed Jason Blossom. Was genuinely fucked up by episode 1 x 12 and the first season finale.

I have such fond memories of watching the first season. I distinctly remember a road-trip I Tok with my friends the summer of 2017, and joking about  maple syrup drug empires and the “weirdo” line back when that was the wildest scene on the show. Joking about how sick of the song ‘Believer’ by Imagine Dragons (2017) we were. 

And then I decided to get involved in a fandom for the first time in a couple of years, and so I revived my old Tumblr, and I began Posting. And reading posts.  

That was my last summer after high school and I was so nervous about college but this show and this fandom helped me get through it. My freshman year I lived in a dorm, and if you wanted to watch TV you had to go down to this common room, so every Thursday I would go down there like an hour ahead of time and occupy the place to make sure the remote was in my hands by 7 PM. A few times I failed, and I missed an episode because of it. But rarely! 

I remember that slowly dawning feeling as season 2 progressed. Scrolling my Tumblr feed and slowly seeing people come to the realization: “wait…is it just me or does this show actually suck.” Was kind of frustrating at the time, realizing that the writers just like…were bad, but in retrospect? Beautiful. Incredible. Legendary. 

And you could even say that’s where the fun really began. Yes, there’s plenty to hate, but also Riverdale is brilliant. The show of all time. For real. No other show has done it like Riverdale. They just haven't, and they never will. The age of the cable television teen drama is ending, and what a hell of a last hurrah Riverdale has been.

The Red Circle. Jingle Jangle. The Gargoyle King. Edgar Evernever and his fantastic rocket. Bret Weston Wallis and Donna Sweett (genuinely cannot say their names without giggling). Jughead getting hit in the head with a rock and faking his death for like…some reason? I genuinely can’t remember, something to do with the Hardy Brothers idk. Tabitha sprinkling the devil with the tears of the Virgin Mary. The normies can laugh all they want about “epic highs and lows” but do they remember the even funnier lines like “if there’s no wedding, that means the gargoyle king has won” or “word of my exploits serving Nick his comeuppance…” THEY NEVER WILL. ONLY THE TRUE FAITHFUL UNDERSTAND. 

And is silly as it all was, I have genuine affection for these characters. Like Betty, Veronica, Jughead, Archie, Cheryl, Toni, actually mean a lot to me. YES they’re fake but I want the best for them (and for Beronica to be canon but you know we can’t win them all). I’m genuinely grateful that this show has existed and been a part of my life for the past six years. 

Moreover, I credit this show for seriously getting into writing. I’ve actually written almost a million words of Riverdale fanfiction. Much of it will never see the light of day, but it exists. Maybe I even have one or two left in me, I don’t know. At the very least I’d like to finish a few uncompleted fics. But I’ve also branched out. Since I started seriously writing in 2017, I’ve also finished several original manuscripts, and who knows, maybe one day I’ll get one published. Stranger things have happened. 

So, thanks Roberto.

And thanks to all of the very cool people I’ve run into in this fandom. I honestly wish I’d gotten to know most of you better, but them’s the breaks. Hopefully this isn’t weird but I’m going to tag a few people in particular. 

@village-skeptic. I know you’re not in the fandom anymore (lucky you), but thank you for, once upon a time, reading every one of the 200,000+ words of a 17-year-old kid’s turgid, indulgent, Riverdale Spanish Civil War fan fiction. I never, ever would have finished that story without you, and I credit it with giving me the confidence to keep writing, and in fact to write everything I’ve written since then. You’re brilliant and awesome. 

@satelliteinasupernova. Thank you for also reading Interbellum (are we noticing a pattern), and more importantly for all of your wonderful drawings. INCLUDING fanart of some of my fics. You have no idea how happy that Strange Death of Elizabeth Cooper piece made me. You rule. 

@sullypants. You were a perennial presence on my feed. Always wonderful to see. I love your taste in art, and I love those ‘penguin classics’ covers you made for a few of my fics. Thank you also for beta reading a few fics for me back in the glory days. And thank you for chatting with me a couple times over the years, including a few times when I was in quite unhappy places. 

@stillhidden. I’m not sure if we’ve ever actually talked, but you like or reblog everything I post and it makes me feel like I’m not just shouting into the void. Same goes for @frauleinfunf Thank God for dutiful mutuals. 

@sonyascomet. I can’t remember when I started following you but you have a really good sense of humor. And I’ll always remember when you kept posting about “Greg” for Succession and I, not knowing anything about Succession, kept imagining Greg Heffley. 

@stillhidden thank you for your world-weary Riverdale posts. You truly understand fandom like few others.

@halcooper. Your devotion to the neglected parents of Riverdale is truly admirable. Every time I see Lochlyn Munro in some weird low budget horror movie I’ll think of you.

I hope I didn’t forget anyone who would be offended by my forgetting, but I doubt it. 

All this to say this show has been a genuinely huge part of my life for six years. SIX YEARS. I graduated college, my God. I wish I could say I became a millionaire or a successful author in that time, but nah. Maybe one day, but for now I’m just kind of vibing. And unfortunately, I’ll have to vibe without Riverdale from now on. 

But as I sit myself down to watch the very last episode of this show, I remind myself that we’ll always have the memories. And I’ll always be an unapologetic Riverdale enjoyer. As a great man once said, snakes don’t shed their skins so easily. 

#riverdale #im getting sentimental #my god

[dragondream-ing]

It’s kinda funny to me that even team black fans get vicious with other team black fans if they disagree with their interpretation of a character or event or rumor. Now, there are some wild or dubious claims about canon, and I get shutting those down or insisting they be treated with skepticism. But there are also genuine disagreements that, imo, don’t deserve the vitriol.

I am not talking about things we *know*, like dates and events and crucial elements of the characters’ relationships and personalities. I’m talking about the things we *cannot* know because the sources and Gyldayn simply can’t and don’t have access to every inner thought or belief of the characters. Those same sources can’t and don’t have knowledge of everything the characters did and why they did it. Those sources have their own viewpoints and bias, and so they might have witnessed or heard things that they didn’t write down because they deemed those things unimportant or counter to their bias. They might have elevated information that had little factual basis because they trusted the source it came from or it confirmed their bias (*cough* Sara Snow’s entire existence). That’s the beauty of F&B. It isn’t a novel, it isn’t a dry accounting of events, it is a history book written after the events by a maester raised in a post-Dance, post-dragons world with his own belief system, and the sources he used are limited and imperfect.

Because of the nature of the book, I would never claim my interpretation of a character is the definitive truth, only that it seems most plausible to me. I know who Rhaenyra isn’t, but I don’t know all that she is. I know who Daemon isn’t, but I don’t know all that he is. I can’t, and neither can anyone else, because the sources themselves didn’t and couldn’t. F&B is written in a way to obscure and distort at least some of the truth. GRRM isn’t an idiot, he studied journalism and history in college, he knew exactly what he was doing and he well understood the pitfalls and complications of primary sources and secondary literature. It’s not his fault that many of his fans don’t lmao (and yes, I blame HBO for the increase in stupidity, but I digress).

There are many things we know for sure (which makes the shitshow’s manipulation or removal of all the *literal facts* extra infuriating; now we have people claiming those facts are unreliable even when they are among the few things that are reliable). But I’m sorry to say, there is MUCH that is unknown.

The characters do not have their own POVs. That creates fertile ground for different interpretations of them and their motivations, even if some aspects of both are clearly defined. And entertaining those interpretations isn’t bad faith. I know we all like to think we have the One True Interpretation of our fave characters, but in F&B, even the most fleshed-out characters don’t speak in their own words with their own voice. We are reading them in the voices of other people, and those people have their own perspectives, biases, and agendas. That’s why I love the book so much, it reminds me of my days writing my history dissertation and trying to identify the societal influence and personal bias of the people I studied (sorry, I’m a bit of a nerd lol)

I know we are used to fighting team green and years of wild GOT shenanigans, but come on. I’ve seen people absolutely lose their shit because other fans disagree over the degree to which Daemon wanted a Valyrian wife. Another one I love is the fury over Valyrian customs. Some people believe the Targaryens might have continued practicing some Valyrian customs, while others believe they were true followers of the Seven (other than incest). Literally who cares?? The book doesn’t include much on this topic, but why is it so offensive that some readers think the Targaryens truly converted or that they held to their beliefs more than the maesters and septons claimed? We don’t actually KNOW because the sources wouldn’t have been privy to everything, especially things the royal family did privately, and extra especially when the conversion was for political reasons (as confirmed by GRRM) and the Targaryens would’ve had ever reason to hide customs deemed heretical by the majority religion. This, to me, is a completely inoffensive difference in interpretation, and I cannot fathom why some people view it as akin to team green stans claiming book Alicent was a child bride.

There are degrees of difference in which readers believe the sources of F&B, which I think contributes to diverging interpretations, and we should acknowledge that this is a personal choice. If you give more credence to certain sources, you’re going to come away with a different view of a character than if you don’t, and that’s okay! That’s how interpreting primary sources works, and that’s part of why historians can write books using the same bank of sources and come to different conclusions. Another reason is someone coming along that looks at those sources from a different perspective, or pays attention to sources other historians had ignored. For example, most historians pre-1970 didn’t think to check the records of the wives of politicians, so when others went back through the archives, there were tons of revelations missed by earlier scholars. This just goes to show secondary sources, aka Gyldayn, also have their limitations, viewpoints and/or bias.

A lot of people don’t even stop to question the sources. Some people put a lot more stock in Mushroom’s account than I ever would (the shitshow didn’t cast him, but it sure used his dubious claims). Some people think Eustace was pretty much a straight shooter bar a few exceptions, which I completely disagree with. Gyldayn is also a problem for me, he’s a bit of a weirdo and perv. Tbh I don’t trust any of them. Could be because I was trained to interrogate sources, not trust them, but I’d rather do that than blindly believe someone like Orwyle. It’s up to every reader to decide what seems most plausible.

And no, that doesn’t mean everything is fair game. Some things are blatantly untrue, like the bizarre metas I’ve seen claiming the character ages in the shitshow are the actual true ages lmao

Trust in a source isn’t necessary to glean facts, and from these accounts we *can* learn about the Dance, so it’s all about assessing what’s a fact, what’s propaganda, what’s exaggerated but true, what’s true but unspoken, what’s a bald-faced lie or a lie of omission, etc. And with a book like F&B with biased sources and rumors and contradictions, there will be genuine differences in interpretation that are in good faith. It isn’t fair to act like these differences are headcanons pulled out of thin air.

If you want to argue what you believe is more likely, that’s fine, but what’s the point of shitting on other fans that read the book and made their own informed opinion? Some pieces of evidence and supposition are more compelling to me but may not be as compelling to someone else. These differences are fair and good faith and shouldn’t be reduced to “you didn’t read right” or “you didn’t read at all.” And if someone claims that of other book fans, they should have the humility to admit their interpretation might not be entirely right either. Only GRRM can know the full truth, and tbh, I’m not even sure he does because that man can be contradictory af 😂

And yes, I used this as an excuse to nerd out over analyzing primary sources. Even historians that leave the ivory tower retain their obnoxious urge to pour over and question primary sources, and that extends to fictional ones.

#reading primary sources: F&B edition #obligatory anti team green #stop yelling at people for no reason #you’re probably not as right as you think #obligatory HOTD was a mistake #tbh HBO getting its grubby hands on GRRM’s works was a mistake

[anantaru]

I'm so sorry you're dealing with getting dragged into tee drama but she definitely seems to have a habit of exaggerating the truth, like leaving her post vague enough for people to harass you because they might conclude you wrote some sa fantasy thing when it was literally... a two word sentence that honestly just made me think of whiskey dick not sa is ridiculous. she clearly wanted people to attack you and I think everyone should remember tee seems to genuinely enjoy seeing other people getting relentlessly bullied. she's dragged that garoujo person through the mud for literally over a year with the same tired topics that have already been apologized for and surrounds herself with other mean petty people like dottores and that rozentias person who also enjoyed shitting on people who were just minding their business writing. they have to recognize that subposting and vague blogging and the #1 way to piss people off, nobody's stupid we all know when someone's shit talking no matter how vague they are about it and it ALWAYS gets back to the person they're talking about. its happened so many times now like can't they learn their lesson? gossip and catty behavior only leads to shit like this

all that to say, someone like tee who's been involved in drama and has had like seven blogs in the last three years isn't someone I'd look to as being reliable or truthful with any information. If anything it looks like she's hopping so many blogs because she keeps starting shit and doesn't anticipate people like you who are actually willing to stand up for themselves so she just runs away. But I'm glad to see you standing up for yourself and I hope people leave you alone because tee is just a liar and a manipulator atp

hello love 💓 honestly, i agree with you just from what i have seen saetoru do to other of my moots + all the reblogs on emmie's post! i have texted with cat today and she was very kind and reasonable with me, i don't think she is a bad person at all, we have both ended it on good terms so i do believe that we were both set up to dislike each other by a third party, i have nothing against her and although she did subpost and do some questionable things, i stand by that she is a great person! 😊 but saetoru, i really cannot say the same, aside on what she did to emmie and keeps bringing up drama from years ago (which she has defended emmie for when they were moots still) because there isn't anything else you could use, yeah, weird. not to mention how she tried to frame me for something i didn't do and hasn't added proof either. alas, it is what it is, i will forever stand up for myself and i'm not scared of a random girl on the internet with four million blogs on here, if you support saetoru though, unfollow me. 😊💓

#˚✩彡 anon' #꒰୨ 𖤐 ୧꒱ answered' #tw discourse #cw discourse

[genav0s]

❪ ⌕ . ❫ ' OO. ㅤ ﹕ PRESSURE⠀!⠀⠀⠀[  . . .  ]

i cannot make you understand. i cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside of me. i cannot even explain it to myself.⠀–—⠀from, "The Metamorphosis"

✶ . CHARACTERS: eun hwaseong & ian moon. ✶ . WORD COUNT: 2.2k ✶ . WARNINGS: swearing, jealousy, drug use, & fighting. ✶ . NOTES: seunghui & doyun are in my wip boy group. written in two hours instead of finishing the conclusion of my anthropology thesis, might be a little academic vocabulary-wise in the beginning. jarringly inconsistent usage of present & past tense.

There is something to be said about pressure. An all-consuming smothering that has the capacity to produce diamonds or dust. 

Hwaseong loved the feeling of that smothering pressure. 

He liked the duality of feeling trapped in his own head but protected by the knowledge that he’d come out on the other side. 

He was raised on the adrenaline of everything being on the line— his mother’s entire career was revived in an instant with a carefully executed smile on Hwaseong’s behalf. He was performing on stage, entertainment for politicians and important celebrities, before he could properly assemble reliable memories and expressions of the rush of emotions he felt every time he stepped up into the spotlight.

Training at Apricus was a breeze compared to the level of perfection his mother instilled in him as she oversaw his tutoring sessions. Accustomed to the expectation of excellence and motivated by the tense scrutiny the executives placed upon potential debuts, in Hwaseong’s mind the only reason he hadn’t debuted sooner was because of how young he was. 

Karin had a weird aversion to debuting anyone under the age of 16— the rule hadn’t been broken for a single artist under the label. He figured it had something to do with the contract she was under when she had first debuted, though he had never thought to ask. 

Ending up on the survival show was a sigh of relief for the Seoul native. The gesture— he believed, was supposed to be a true show of their faith in his talents and marketability. Seven years of dedication at the age of 17 was more than most of the others on the show could boast about. Sure, he figured it would be just as much a challenge as it was a reward for his hard work. But he figured being chosen for the show was much more a formality than a true test of his charisma and bare minimum ability to carry a tune. 

The offense he found in the selection of the other boys had been a selling point in his arc throughout the show. He was filmed scoffing at Sanghyuk’s long hours spent practicing over and over and over in the dance studio Hwaseong knew had the best acoustics. He rolled his eyes when Carter struggled to find the right words to thank the judging panel’s gracious oversight of his horrendous pronunciation. His teeth gritted in annoyance as he bit back insults directed at Jioh every time he hurled whatever it was he ate before his confessionals. 

But none of them got under his skin the way Ian Moon managed to. 

Their disdain for one another had been well documented throughout the show. In Hwaseong’s eyes, Ian was nothing more than a pretty boy who had only made it onto the show as someone else’s replacement. Hwaseong had never bothered to ask why Ian had similarly brushed Hwaseong off so early on, in truth he didn’t care much for the reason. 

The two’s highly publicized mutual distaste had managed to pique the interests of the producers who incorporated the tension between the two into nearly every episode. 

Genuine statements of “Thank you for the opportunity, I’ll try harder” from Ian were met with censored insults from Hwaseong. And as the distance between their rankings continued to grow throughout the first half of the series, Hwaseong only felt emboldened by his disdain for the Texan former athlete. 

“I don’t get it. Yeah, he was put on the show ‘cause he’s pretty, but so what?” Doyun laughs as he watches Hwaseong’s careful surveillance of Ian’s revisioning behind the glass separating the two of them. 

“Pretty sells,” Seunghui agrees, nodding at Doyun’s words, gently nudging Hwaseong’s shoulder. With a scowl, Hwaseong reverts his eyes from the sight in front of him. Turning to the other two instead.

“Dude’s a smug asshole. Trained for a few months— as a joke, by the way. And he ends up on the shortlist for a boy group because what— some middle school girl thought he was hot?” Doyun and Seunghui exchange a glance before dissolving into shared laughter, falling into each other as Hwaseong broods to himself. 

“Careful, middle school girls are about to fund your whole career.” Doyun hums, lips downturned into a pout as he taps at Hwaseong’s cheek sarcastically. 

“Isn’t your sister in middle school?” Seunghui chimes in curiously, finally catching Hwaseong’s attention. 

“What if Dasom's part of the middle school girls that petitioned for Ian to be on the show?” Doyun muses, bouncing off of Seunghui’s good-natured teasing of their older friend. With a piercing side eye, Hwaseong chooses to ignore the two’s musings. 

“He’s lucky Jaehee’s personally mentoring him,” He mentions off-handedly. 

Doyun and Seunghui’s confusion is enough for him to continue fueling his own jealous ruminations. 

“He’s in there with her right now, bastard—” 

With a rumble of chuckling from the other two, Hwaseong’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, briefly releasing him from his ranting. 

“Jaehee offered to give pointers to anyone who got to her during the break before filming resumed,” Seunghui explained with a shrug of his shoulders. 

The corners of Doyun’s mouth curled in amusement as they watched Hwaseong try to run through the endless instructions thrown at them over the hours they had already spent filming that day. 

“I—” He begins, only to be cut off by enthused Doyun. 

“He’s not the bastard between the two of you either. His dad’s just dead, yours is a whore.”

The act of filming the show was quite possibly the most dreaded part of Hwaseong’s routine for the latter half of 2013. He concealed yawns and distasteful jokes behind the heads of the other contestants, only stepping into view of the camera when it came time for him to prove his worth to the judges seated in front of the remaining trainees. 

Regardless of his intentional aversion to the camera, the producers always managed to find him when he and Ian were at their most heated. Volatile exchanges heightened into agitated bite-backs which bled into almost any mention of the one contestant that could unnerve Hwaseong at the mere sound of his name. He never thought it to be a coincidence that the two of them happened to find themselves within minimal feet of one another, entering confessionals as one exited, performing one before the other. 

But the producers had never made their thirst for conflict more obvious than one of the last days of filming. 

Against all— mostly Hwaseong’s— odds, Ian had managed to squeeze his way within reach of the final lineup. A final solo performance of each of the 10 trainees remaining would be the determination between debut and elimination. Doyun and Seunghui had been eliminated weeks ago. Hwaseong wasn’t surprised as much as he was peeved. For some reason, the show just couldn’t shake Ian. 

“Yo, what’s your fuckin’ problem with me, dude?” 

Hwaseong knew Ian had issues with his temper. It was a plot point emphasized over and over by the producers throughout the taping. He had a short fuse and a burning desire to get even. Hwaseong figured it to be leftover rage from the injury that removed the possibility of achieving the dream he’d had since he was a young boy. Sanghyuk had let it slip that Ian’s father was an abusive surgeon— an oxymoron that made Hwaseong’s head hurt so bad he brushed it off and never thought about it again. 

“Does it matter?” Hwaseong snarks in response, the corner of his lip curling in his quip. Three words are all it takes for Ian’s eyes to light up brighter than Hwaseong had ever seen before. A fire suddenly erupted from a spark he didn’t know was there.

“Yeah, it does Hwaseong.” Ian hissed, fists and jaw equally tense, clenched in restraint. He glances at the other trainees who slowly begin to pay attention to the tension breaking between the two boys.

“Whatever Ian. The show’s almost over, you’ll be able to go home and forget about me in about three days.” His words are delivered with a scoff, a roll of his eyes following shortly after. 

“Are you threatened by me or—” That was enough to set Hwaseong off. The fire spreading to his much darker eyes, launching him forward to stand eye-to-eye with the American. 

“Threatened?” He all but spat the word out, as if an insult to his existence. “You’re so full of shit. We both know the only reason you’re here is because Jaehee wants to keep the pretty boy with the funny accent around.”

There isn’t a moment of pause before Ian grabs at Hwaseong’s shirt, throwing him to the ground before Hwaseong or any of the other spectators could react. As Hwaseong scrambles to rise to his feet from the frigid floor beneath him Ian smirks at the clear panic in his eyes. 

“What’s it like to be so fucking pathetic that no one bothers defends you?” The amusement in his eyes sends a shiver down Hwaseong’s spine as he finds himself unable to tear his attention away from the vocalist towering over him. 

“What’s it like to be so fucking cowardly you have to beat the motivation out of your competition to win at anything?” Hwaseong’s words are coated in venom as he returns the insult. “You’re not making the group, Ian. No one wants you here.” 

With that, a blur of yelling and bodies shifting in Hwaseong’s vision clouds his perception. He barely registers the others struggling to restrain the older boy from grabbing at the younger. The ringing in his ears from the weight of the built-up resentment between the two of them culminates in a smirk that Hwaseong can tell infuriates Ian to his core. 

Through gritted teeth, held back by both Sanghyuk and Carter, Ian musters a strained, “Fuck you.” 

With a saunter to the door of the practice room, Hwaseong speaks up with one last taunt. “Take care of yourself, Ian. Send us a postcard from Texas.” 

If Hwaseong believed in a higher power, he was sure God was enjoying making Hwaseong eat his words. Over the next three days, Ian had not only turned half of the other contestants against the show’s youngest trainee but had managed to squeeze his way into the final lineup. 

As if by some sick twist of fate, Hwaseong watched the group’s final member claim the last spot in the quintet, that signature cocky smirk of his plastered across his praised features. When he catches Hwaseong’s eye from his spot at the other end of the line— Sanghyuk and Romeo providing a necessary buffer between the two with starry eyes and blinding smiles, Hwaseong can feel his stomach twist with a chill so nauseating his smile is wiped from his face. His knees buckle underneath him, catching Carter’s attention who finds the situation so gratifying he leans over to whisper a carefully enunciated, “How’s it feel, dumbass?” under his breath.

With disbelief etched into his expression, mistakenly read as gratitude, Hwaseong trends for the next week. 

“Do you remember that fight we got into?” Ian chuckles lowly, slowly taking a hit from the lit blunt in his hand. He shakes his head as he remembers the moment that irrevocably changed the course of his life. He exhales after a moment, watching the smoke fill the empty air in front of his nose before slowly dissipating into the Seoul night sky. Ian shifts to take a second drag before passing the blunt to Hwaseong, sighing slowly. 

“Yeah, made you eat shit in front of everyone,” Ian responds, a dimple coming to rest on his cheek, turning to watch Hwaseong as his lips closed around the blunt between his fingers. 

“Shut up. You did not make me ‘eat shit’”. Hwaseong answers, the smoke leaving his mouth in a sudden stream. 

“Yeah, I did. I beat your ass and made it into the final lineup.” 

The younger man’s eyebrows furrow in disagreement, “You did not beat my ass, Ian.” 

As he reaches for the blunt, Ian playfully hums, “Still made it into the lineup.” 

Hwaseong scoffs with an eye roll, “Last.” 

With an exhale Ian simply mutters, “How bad does your ass still sting?” 

The two share a lazy chuckle, eyes drooping as they recall the memory differently. Rising with a grunt, Hwaseong brushes off the comment casually, “Whatever, dickhead.” 

Mirroring with a grunt of his own, Ian gently soothes the younger man’s temperament, “You love me.” 

Receiving a grumble in response, Ian watches Hwaseong turn to unlock the door of their dorm to reenter the shared space in the early hours of the morning. 

Stopping him with a sudden urgency he asks, “Wait, do we look high? I don’t need Sanghyuk on my ass tonight.” 

Hwaseong offers a snorted chuckle in response, receiving a furrowing of Ian’s eyebrows. “Doesn’t matter that you look high when you smell high.” After a brief moment of blank staring on Ian’s end, Hwaseong continues toward the door, fiddling with the door knob.

“I smell high?”

#⠀–— ⠀*⠀⠀:⠀⠀TRANSCRIPT⠀!⠀⠀[ . . . ] #ficnetfairy #fictional kpop soloist #fictional boygroup #fictional kpop oc #fictional kpop community #fictional idol group #fictional idol community #fictional idol oc #kpop idol #kpop oc #kpop au #kpop boygroup #kpop boy group #kpop #kpop bg #fake kpop oc #fake idol group #fake kpop boy group #fake kpop idol #fake oc #fake idol oc #fake idol community #idol au #idol #fictional idol #idol oc

[fairy-writes]

Congratulation! I would like to make an request for your event!

Song 27 "Take on the World - You and me at 6" with BSD Dazai 💙

TAKE ON THE WORLD

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairing(s): Dazai Osamu x Gender Neutral!Reader

Song: Take on the World by You Me at Six

Notes: I’m taking some liberties with Dazai’s backstory because I genuinely cannot remember if they talked about a lot of it

Tags: Dazai-typical mentions of suicide,

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Just say the word, we'll take on the world

Just say you're hurt, we'll face the worst

Oh

It was always you and Osamu against the world. Even after all these years, it felt as if the world was against you, and it was only you two protecting each other.  

I can see, see the pain in your eyes

Oh, believe, believe me, and I have tried

No, I won't; I won't pretend to know what you've been through

You should know, I wish it was me, not you

You had met as children, you had been six, and Osamu was seven. You both lived at an orphanage, his parents having died in an accident a year prior and yours having been teenage parents who couldn’t handle a child at their age. 

He had been a loner, even as a child. 

He always sat in the corner under a tree whenever you played outside until, one day, you approached him. You slung your bug net over your shoulder and stood defiantly before him. He looked up from his small chapter book and scowled, 

“What do you want? You’re blocking my light.” He said, and you stubbornly huffed, 

“Come play with me!” You had said, and he shook his head,

“Go away.” He replied, and you tightened your grip on your bug net. 

“Nope! Sensei said I should play with you. So I’m gonna whether you like it or not.” 

You and Osamu ran away from the orphanage when you were twelve, and he was thirteen. Six years of fighting bullies when he wouldn’t because he just didn’t care about his well-being. But he fought them off for you if you were injured. He said it was because he didn’t like fighting, but you knew it was because he considered you a friend. 

The rest was history.

And just say the word, we'll take on the world

Just say you're hurt, we'll face the worst

Nobody knows you the way that I know you

Look in my eyes. I will never desert you.

And just say the word, we'll take on the world.

He tried to commit suicide for the first time when he was fourteen. And you blamed yourself. You should have seen the signs. You should have stopped him. 

A doctor named Mori Ogai had saved his life. And you had thanked him. 

In hindsight, you should have killed him when you had the chance. 

And it's the fight and the fight of our lives

You and I—we were made to thrive

And I am your future. I am your past

Never forget we were built to last

Step out of the shadows and into my life

Silence the voices that haunt you inside

You had joined Osamu in the Port Mafia because, of course, you did. It was always you and Osamu against the world. You and Osamu against the Mafia. But soon, that turned into you, Osamu, and Oda. 

At first, you were jealous, was Osamu replacing you? Was he getting rid of you? When you had brought this up to him, he had laughed, ruffled your hair, and pecked your forehead. 

“Of course not!” He had said, but you still saw that sad look in his eyes. The one that said he was alone and abandoned. The one that had been there—despite your best attempts—ever since his parents died.

And just say the word, we'll take on the world

Just say you're hurt, we'll face the worst

Nobody knows you the way that I know you

Look in my eyes; I will never desert you.

And just say the word, we'll take on the world, we'll take on the world.

As you got older, you followed Osamu out of the Port Mafia. After Oda died, he wasn’t the same. Instead, he put on a show, a facade that even you couldn’t crack. 

You joined the Armed Detective Agency, though you were a secretary rather than a person assigned missions. Osamu had teased you, but you knew he was happy you were out of danger. He always hated it when you went on Mafia missions without him, but he was always paired with Nakahara Chuuya. 

You thought you knew him. But as always, he kept secrets. He kept secrets of what he had done and seen in the Mafia. You knew Mori had done things to him, had changed him for the worst. 

But he was always gentle with you.

And nobody knows you the way that I know you

And nobody knows you the way that I know you

We'll fight, we'll crawl into the night

Our world. We'll go with you by my side

The calm, the storm, we'll face it all

It was always you and Osamu against the world. 

You protected him to the best of your ability. 

And he protected you in return. 

And just say the word, we'll take on the world

And nobody knows you the way that I know you

Look in my eyes. I will never desert you.

And just say the word, we'll take on the world, we'll take on the world.

#fairy writes #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #dazai osamu #osamu dazai #dazai x reader #bsd dazai x reader #bsd dazai #bsd dazai osamu #dazai osamu x reader #osamu dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #fairytailwzard 800 followers

[kourota]

DETAILS JJK 🔹fushiita 🔹4.6k words 🔹hurt/comfort 🔹character study 🔹megumi-centric 🔹late night conversations

Some people spend their lives wandering, searching for a purpose. Others are bound—to places, ideas, and stories. Most of the time, people cannot escape the maze.

But sometimes... sometimes, there is a chance where two people, one lost in a maze and the other tethered to a monster, for them to find each other and change their fates

OR: what if the boys had an honest conversation about itadori's death sentence?

There was something about moonless nights that made Megumi want to pry himself apart.

Perched on a roof that overlooked the vast expanse of a forest, shadows encompassing all his eyes could see as a chilly breeze nipped at his skin, he couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander. He thought about his past, the things that had hurt him, the things that had built him, and even though he’d been through this before, he couldn’t help running the same marathon, if only to find comfort in the familiarity of the path and escape the overwhelming terror of the unknown.

This night, Megumi contemplated his life.

He… he knew he wasn’t the nicest person in the neighbourhood.

The few instances he chose to spoke, his words were always laced with a sharpness, and he never really cushioned his thoughts with pleasantries and whatnot. He didn’t see the point. Direct communication was the only way to get things done, and he’d rather deal with the disdain from people than take part in the underhanded mind games some of the higher ups were so fond of playing.

He wasn’t an optimist like Tsumiki either. He didn’t believe that everybody was good, and neither did he give two damns about moral integrity or ‘purity of the soul’ as some people liked to claim, because he didn’t think he was above everyone else around him. He did what he wanted and wrote his own definition about what was right and wrong, not trusting anybody else to do it for him. He couldn’t trust them. Not when each character came with their own agenda, and Megumi was sick and tired of reading between the lines only to throw up when he figured out their twisted motives.

There were a lot of things about himself that painted him as the ‘edgy emo hot-topic wannabe’ that Kugisaki liked to call him. And maybe he would have minded the jab at his personality, but his experiences growing up had given him plenty of reality checks that had only solidified his priorities in life.

One, he’d keep his family safe.

Their footsteps thunder in the isolated alley, and Megumi quickly pulls Tsumiki into the dumpster. They hold their breaths as shouts pass by them, of dangerous people looking… to kidnap them, probably. Ten whole minutes of torturous silence, and Megumi finally deems it safe to climb out. His sister’s face is streaked with salt, but she holds a wobbly smile, clasping their hands together in a small celebration of victory that they could live a day longer.

Two, he’d kick the ass of anyone trying to pick on the defenceless.

The crack of his fist against the jaw of someone whose name he can’t remember, and he sends the last asshole rolling on the ground. It’s a cathartic sound, the perfect retribution for the earlier violence they’d inflicted on the junior by shoving her against the vending machine. Seven other bodies lie in a groaning heap on the dirty ground, and Megumi puts his foot on their presumed leader’s chest, threatening him with the familiar words that he’s long since learned by-heart.

And finally, he’d give back to the world by performing his duties as a sorcerer.

Gojo-sensei stands behind him, a genuine note of happiness and pride in his voice as he cheers on Megumi. The rancid blood of the exorcised curse feels like it might stain his hands forever, but he quickly forgets about it in favour of the sheer exhilaration and the drumming of his heart in his ears—Kuro and Shiro by his side. He’s done it. He’s finally exorcized a curse after years of watching Gojo-sensei do it. Megumi turns back, and he doesn’t know what kind of an expression he’s making, but his white-haired benefactor beams at him like he’s just solved world hunger.

Three principles that Megumi swore by. Three things he’d never compromise on. Three things committed to heart, a rock-solid foundation he could always fall back onto whenever things got out of hand. They were his raison d’etre. They kept him sane whenever it felt like the rest of his life felt stale and performative.

They were his unwavering truth in a world of spiderwebs built of thinly spun nooses and twisted, knotted, lies.

That was all he knew about the world. Apart from the occasional novel and trying out different ginger dishes, he didn’t really do anything else, neither did he care much for the other frivolous activities people liked to engage in. He was content with the way he lived and felt like there wasn’t really anything that could make him attached to the traditional notion of ‘living a life’.

At least, that was until he came along.

Condemned to death for the earnest crime of wanting to protect someone.

Just like that, Megumi was tossed into a limbo, because he no longer understood what he believed in anymore. He… he cared about justice. But at the same time, the dilemma that Itadori presented to him was something he could not solve, not when the boy’s entrance into his life triggered a chain reaction that had eventually led to him sitting on a rooftop, contemplating whether he could be a sorcerer and still remain true to his beliefs.

The first thing he’d heard about the boy was that he ran a hundred meters in five seconds. That alone should have tipped him off about the kind of tomfoolery that awaited him in the future, but he’d been blindsided by the mission—Megumi’s first mistake in retrospect. Perhaps if he’d broadened his expectations, he would have been able to foresee that… maybe he’d have been more prepared for…

Who was he kidding?

Itadori Yuuji. The fool. The lunatic. The simpleminded negative IQ shrimp salad, who’d chucked a rotten finger straight down his throat without batting an eye. Nothing in the world could have prepared him for that. Megumi… he prided himself on his spontaneity—a skill he’d harnessed from growing up with someone as obnoxious and impulsive as Gojo-sensei—but even that was rendered useless in his first encounter with Itadori.

Things only escalated from that point, and every single time, Megumi found himself caught off guard by the sheer ridiculousness of the boy’s antics. He’d encountered various characters in his life, but nothing could have prepared him for the chaotic maelstrom he was wrapped in; something that Itadori called ‘friendship’.

Megumi threw a rock at the boy’s head when he’d first heard him say that.

There was no way something so dangerous could be defined by a simple word called ‘friendship’. It was overwhelming, but at the same time, it wasn’t. Almost as if Itadori could somehow see the lines of Megumi’s boundaries, always toeing at it but never crossing, always pulling back just when things would have become ‘too much’. It was… frustrating, to say the least. The only person who’d even come close to understanding him at that level was probably Tsumiki, and even she’d had moments where she’d pushed too far.

The fact that Itadori, someone he’d only met a couple of months ago, could read him like an open book… it was terrifying.

At the same time, Megumi couldn’t bring himself to be mad at the boy.

Yes, the sheer number of movie references would have driven him mad, but all he wanted to do was add another line to the impressive tally he was keeping. Yes, the chaos was exhausting, but he only found it easier to go to sleep without a care in the world. Yes, he could no longer bask in the silence he loved, but he found that there was a strange sort of comfort that came with idle chatter that didn’t force the expectations of a response from him.

Missions became something to look forward to instead of an obligation to be performed. There was always something interesting happening whenever he was around Itadori (which was also Kugisaki’s fault because she was just as much of an agent of chaos as the boy was) and, well, Megumi wasn’t going to pretend that he didn’t feel safer when he was with company.

Safer.

“Fushiguro?”

Megumi yelped, almost losing balance and rolling off the roof before he was yanked backwards, onto something warm and steady.

“Whoa,” Itadori exclaimed, one hand on his back and the other pressed flat against his stomach. “Steady, dude!”

“I’m fine.”

He was, really. Even if he’d fallen, he would have just summoned Kuro and Shiro to nab him before he hit the ground. Maybe even Nue. The fact that Itadori didn’t seem to think of that, either because he’d forgotten or because he didn’t care, was… a pleasant feeling. He may be an idiot, but Megumi supposed that he was the most tolerable kind of idiot there was.

Megumi shifted back to where he was sitting after Itadori let go of him, and the boy ended up plopping down beside him, mirroring his posture in a way that reminded Megumi of baby chimps.

He was a little curious about why Itadori was up at this hour. It wasn’t uncommon for himself, considering his track record with nightmares, but his friend on the other hand slept like a log. One time, Kugisaki had stacked twenty different medical school textbooks onto the boy’s chest, and he hadn’t even woken up when the tower had collapsed onto his face, which was both ridiculous and impressive.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“Hmm… not really. I mean—” the boy sighed, shoulders drooping as if he were carrying some invisible weight. “I did sleep. But then I had a stupid dream, and I woke up. Couldn’t fall back asleep after that.”

Megumi hummed.

‘So Itadori has nightmares too’.

Which made sense when he thought about it. After all, the boy held the most dangerous sorcerer inside of him, and it wasn’t too difficult to picture Sukuna trying to whittle away at Itadori’s sanity by inducing nightmares and all sorts of unwanted thoughts. It was remarkable, really, for Itadori to have survived this long, and it only spoke of the tremendous amount of mental strength the boy possessed.

Mental strength that was no more infallible than he was.

“Itadori—” he started, and broke off.

What was he even supposed to ask the boy? Whether he was alright? Whether he wanted to talk about his nightmares? Ask him if he was being haunted by bloodstains that refused to be washed away? Ask him if he was okay with the fact that so many people were actively wishing for his death? If he’d made peace with the fact that he was doomed from the day they met?

“Yeah? What’s up?”

It was almost too much to look at the boy. Megumi didn’t believe that people were pure, but there was something about Itadori that radiated warmth and kindness like nothing he’d ever seen. It was damning, knowing that this… that he’d one day go up in flames or an equally tortuous demise. That one day, that sparkle in his eyes would no longer shine, that radiant smile would draw a flat line, and that euphonious sound of his voice would only exist in the distant echoes of Megumi’s mind.

It was a cruel fate, one that Itadori was in no way deserving of.

‘Why,’ he wanted to ask, ‘did you swallow that finger? Why did you choose to protect your classmates? Why couldn’t you have just minded your business and lived your life, carefree? Why did you have to weasel your way into my life when there’s a ticking clock hanging ominously over your head?’

Why, Itadori Yuuji, did you have to be a good person?

But Megumi didn’t ask those questions. Not because it would offend or hurt Itadori, but because he already knew the answers. It was quite simple, really. Itadori wouldn’t be Itadori if he didn’t do those stupid things. He inhaled food, asked nonsensical questions, made movie references all the time, befriended random hooligans (Megumi seriously had no idea what the deal with Todo was), and never had a functional thought in his life.

Itadori was a good person, and that was his undoing.

“Hey,” a warm hand dropped on his shoulder, gently pulling Megumi till he was pressed against Itadori’s side. “It’s going to be okay. You don’t have to worry.”

Something about that reassurance struck a chord in him. Fragments of an idea came together, and Megumi grasped them with a desperation he couldn’t quite understand, but simply allow it to consume him.

Ridiculous.

It was all ridiculous. Itadori was the one hurting. Forced to shoulder a burden too heavy. Forced to become a means to a bitter end. Megumi couldn’t imagine being put in that situation and still having the strength to smile.

Frustrating.

If it wasn’t for Gojo-sensei, Itadori would be dead long ago. Megumi couldn’t have done shit about it. Helpless. Trapped. The cycle of loss repeats, and nothing’s ever really changed.

Unfair.

Everything about this situation was unfair. Killed, if not by the elders, by Sukuna. Itadori didn’t deserve to die. Not like this. Not so soon. Not when Megumi wanted to—not when there was so much more Itadori deserved to see.

And then—

Fire.

A scorching blaze as far as the eyes could see. Ashes scattered to the wind. A sharp crackling as everything he knows is eaten away, not a single thing remaining. He looks down, and he’s crumbling too. It doesn’t burn. It doesn’t hurt. Instead, it brings him peace—especially when he can see himself growing back from the ground, stronger, even as he turns to dust.

Megumi knew what he wanted to do. What he had to do.

“I want to burn the world down.”

Itadori’s body stiffened, but the tension soon melted away as the boy slumped back against him. When he felt shuddering, Megumi looked up in confusion at the boy only to find the back of Itadori’s hand pressed to his mouth, concealing a… laugh?

“Of all the things I was expecting you to say—pfft—that was nowhere on the list.”

Are you kidding me?

“Shut up,” Megumi grumbled, a familiar heat rising up to his face. “I was having a moment and you just laughed, you buffoon.”

“But you said it so seriously! If I didn’t know you, I’d think you were a serial arsonist.”

“Maybe I am. Maybe you don’t know me all that well.”

Even as he shot back that retort, mainly out of embarrassment than vitriol, Megumi could feel a deep sense of peace settle into his bones. Contentment, from finally knowing what to do. He’d been lost, stuck trying to force the new pieces of his life into the box he’d been handed when, in reality, there was no place for growth and living in that shackling prison. The rules that a sorcerer had to abide by… Megumi could no longer live by them anymore. Even if it meant that he’d have to break his third principle, he didn’t mind.

It had taken him a whole night of contemplation, but he’d finally understood what he had to do. Now, all that was left was Itadori, and whether he'd want the same thing as Megumi. He couldn’t force his wishes onto the boy, and if Itadori truly wanted to defeat Sukuna at the cost of his own life, then Megumi would… he’d respect his wishes. Even if it was hard. Even if it hurt. Even if it left wounds in him he could never quite recover from, he’d let Itadori do what he wanted.

“Why do you want to burn the world, though?” Itadori asked, and there was something about that tone that told Megumi that the boy no longer thought of this as a joke. The boy’s expression was still relaxed, but there was a look in his eyes, one that held the promise of understanding. “You don’t say things you don’t mean, so… why?”

Why? Oh, it was so simple, wasn’t it?

“If the world won’t allow you to live, I’d rather burn it to the ground.”

The words seemed to take flight the moment they left his lips. Although Megumi didn’t believe in wind spirits that fulfilled wishes like Kugisaki did, voicing his thoughts made them feel more real, like it might actually happen. Like a possibility, rather than a far-fetched daydream. And he meant it. Every word he said, he meant it.

Maybe he wouldn’t have gone this far for anybody else, but he’d grown fond of Itadori, and there was no way Megumi would let tragedy befall someone so undeserving of it. If the world was cruel, then he’d burn it and rebuild a new world that’s a lot kinder. He was sick and tired of losing the people in his life as they played a game that was rigged from the start. So he’d change things, and he’d protect them.

Starting with Itadori.

“Oh.”

Megumi looked up at the breathless tone of the word, only to see that Itadori’s face was flushed. Eyes wide, a hue to his cheeks that was visible even in the darkness of the moonless night, and his mouth a wobbly line that trembled… Megumi had never seen this expression on the boy.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

He was no poet. He was no artist. But there was a sudden urge in him to engrave this moment into the world, if only to prove to himself that it was real. It felt like all the words and colours in the world wouldn’t be sufficient to describe the delicate bubble he was trapped in, holding his breath, warm all over despite the nipping cold wind, afraid to shatter it, afraid that a moment so… gentle… it would never come again.

Oblivious to Megumi’s internal turmoil, Itadori just made a strangled noise.

“Sorry, I just… that was actually kinda… uhm…” The boy turned even redder, immediately burying his face in his palms. An almost pitiful ‘that’s so not fair,’ was mumbled, but Megumi might have misheard it from the rush of blood to his own face.

He’d expected Itadori to understand the implications of his statement. He’d expected the boy to maybe argue and spew some nonsensical justification about how it is his duty to sacrifice himself so that the world could be a better place. He’d expected Itadori to maybe even laugh again and thank him, but…

Holy fuck.

“What should I even say?” Itadori whispered, still bashful.

Megumi blinked.

“…thank you?”

That earned him a slight huff, and the awkwardness dissipated, if only a little.

Before Megumi could say anything else, Itadori shuffled so that he was turned towards him, shook his head harshly and looked at him with that familiar determination.

“Thank you, Fushiguro.”

Now it was Megumi’s turn to feel bashful.

“I was only joking—”

“It’s not just this,” the boy interrupted him, and a rueful smile adorned his lips. “Thank you for everything else. For still being my friend even though I have this monster in me. For wanting to, well, burn your world down for me. Even though I know that my death is inevitable, it’s comforting to know that I’ll have you by my side until then.”

Itadori paused, as if contemplating something, before he sighed and continued.

“My grandpa told me that I should use my strength for good. And that when I die, I should be surrounded by people. So… it’s nice to know that I’ll be able to keep those promises. And I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you. My life…” the boy trailed off, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie. “It’s been fun, knowing you. I mean—yeah, it gets scary at times, but… I don’t really know how to explain this, but you, you brought more colours into my life, you know? Like, life was fun, but with you… you gave it more of a meaning. I mean—just looking at you gives me, well, uh… it gives me… peace.”

Peace?

A thick silence pervaded the air around them as Itadori seemed to search for the right words to use, his mouth opening and closing again and again, and all the while, he looked like he was shrinking into himself.

“Sometimes, I don’t feel human.” The confession was heavy, laced with a sort of haunting that didn’t fit into the image of the bright, smiling boy he’d known. And Megumi realized, with horror, that Itadori was, in no way, okay. “It doesn’t help that a lot of people treat me as a threat, and so many of them are… scared of me. I don’t want people to be scared of me. But you—you never treated me differently. You were there when Sukuna first took control of my body. I was a stranger to you, back then, and yet you asked Gojo-sensei to spare me. You wanted me to live, even though I could have killed you back then when we faced that special grade curse and I died temporarily.”

“I never had to ask you to not be scared of me, because you never were. And for that—” the boy’s voice cracked, and Megumi’s eyes widened at how glossy Itadori’s eyes became “—I can never thank you enough. No matter how loud Sukuna’s voice gets in my head, no matter how close I get to losing control… I feel safe knowing that even if I do turn for good, you will remember me for who I am, and not the monster I’d become.”

The tears rolled down the boy’s face, and Megumi’s own throat tightened up, the corners of his eyes prickling.

“I know—huff—it’s hard to watch me turn into him. I know—I know you probably get scared every time, but—sniff—this selfish part of me is so happy that you’ll remember me.”

The boy broke down, tumbling forward, and Megumi opened his arms to catch him. He too may have been crying, or maybe he wasn’t. he couldn’t feel a damn thing apart from Itadori’s trembling, and those heartbreaking sobs that made it impossible to breathe with the rock lodged in his throat.

“I’m so sorry, Fushiguro. But… thank you.”

Fuck.

All this while, Itadori had had so many things on his mind. All this while, he’d been worried that the monster in him would kill him—not just physically but his presence too. Megumi couldn’t even fathom the idea of his existence being overwritten so cruelly, to have his character ruined, to be remembered as a curse and having his death celebrated. A future where Itadori would be—

No.

No, he would never allow that.

“You’re not going to die.” Megumi’s voice cracked on the last word, but he was far beyond keeping appearances at this point. “I won’t let you die. I don’t care if we have to bend the fucking laws of sorcery or do something fucked up. I’m not letting you die. Not when you’re one of the few good things this world has to offer. You will be remembered as Itadori Yuuji, and damn it you will die as Itadori Yuuji and nothing else. I’m—I’m sure there’s a way. There has to be. If some fucker like Sukuna can split himself into his body parts and be resurrected, then there has to be a way to save you.”

Megumi hugged the boy closer, burying his face in those soft pink locks of hair that reminded him of Kuro and Shiro. Itadori was heavy, a lot heavier than him, but the weight was more reassuring than ever. He felt real this way, tangible, so strong and yet so fragile, and warmer than a summer afternoon.

He had no idea how long they spent like that, but he didn’t care. He’d hold Itadori for as long as the boy needed. He knew the weight of his words, and how they’d take time to digest. Especially for someone like Itadori. Luckily, Megumi had Tsumiki in his life to protect him when things got too suffocating. If not Tsumiki, then Gojo-sensei, who was a reliable presence despite his annoying tendencies.

So he waited. And until the boy was ready to accept his words, no matter how long it would take, he’d wait.

It was… surprisingly pleasant. Megumi didn’t particularly fancy being in prolonged contact with people (it was too weird and awkward because he never knew where to put his hands), but with Itadori, there was this ease. Perhaps his comfort was also because of the necessity of the situation, perhaps it was something else. Either way, Megumi found himself drifting into a lull, all his attention focused on the boy’s slow breathing and the occasional hiccup.

After a long bout of silence that could have been half an hour or two, Itadori spoke up.

“You… you really think there’s a chance?”

Megumi didn’t hesitate to reply, hoping that his conviction was clear.

“Yes.”

“But Sukuna—”

“—can be split back into those damn fingers of his and tossed into a volcano for all I care. That doesn’t matter. What matters is you, Itadori.” Megumi grabbed the boy’s face with his hands and tugged him so that he could look right into those eyes. He had no idea what he was searching for, but he knew that he’d find it. He trusted Itadori, trusted the boy’s spirit, trusted his words and his tears. So he asked the most important question of them all, “Do you want to live?”

A beat passed. Then another. Megumi could see how the resignation faded, and how slivers of a budding hope blossomed in the boy’s eyes.

“Yes,” the boy replied breathlessly, and then, “Yes. Yes, yes, yes. I want—can I? Can I really… can I really live?”

“Yes.”

This time, the embrace wasn’t as melancholic. The desperation still remained as they clung to each other, but the promise of a better future, of a happy ending… it came as a tangible relief that could be tasted in their tears, in their sighs, in the gentle drumbeats of their hearts synchronizing in the proximity.

Megumi knew he had his work cut out for him if he wanted to defy the fate that was written out for them. Sukuna was the most powerful sorcerer known, and they couldn’t just get rid of him so easily. However… he wasn’t alone. He had people—no. They had people on their side. Strong people. Kind people. People who cared about them, even if they were few in number. Megumi may never have allowed himself to rely on them for help… but this wasn’t just about him.

“I promise you that we’ll get through this alive. Together.”

“Together,” Itadori repeated, laughing softly as he sniffled.

This was about righting a wrong. This was about preventing a tragedy. This was about a boy he’d grown to care about so much, and Megumi had lost too many people to lose him too. This was about Itadori Yuuji, a boy who held the sun’s brightness in his smile and the its warmth in his arms. A boy whose only mistake was being born into a world that would bleed him dry of his kindness.

A boy who needed to be protected, for once, instead of the other way around.

Megumi vowed to do so. No matter what it took, no matter how hard the journey, no matter what sacrifices he’d have to make… he’d protect Itadori. And if his duties as a sorcerer prevented him from protecting Itadori…

Well, he supposed it was time to burn down his principles and then the world.

author's note: hi!! if you've read till here, please let me know what you think! honestly this was supposed to be totally fluffy but then itadori went and opened his heart to me so,,, haha. welp.

here's the fic on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55602283

thanks for reading <3

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #itafushi #fushiita #mywriting #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #itadori yuuji #fushiguro megumi #megumi #itadori #itadori x fushiguro #writers on tumblr #hurt/comfort #oneshot

[guriyuri]

School Zone/「スクールゾーン」

🌸9/10🌸 (HIATUS)

A quirky yuri comedy about the chaotic daily life of high school girls! Yokoe and Sugiura have been together forever, and they've mastered the art of making trouble when life's a bore. High school might be a drag, but these girls in love know just how to inject a little chaos and comedy into their sloppy school life.

(Seven Seas Entertainment)

*occasionally listed as ‘School Zone Girls’

I fuckin LOVED school zone, man. There isn't a single character in it that isn't eeping out of their minds at all times. It throws almost all normal shonen/male-targeted troupes off of their kilter and is incredibly refreshing to read. One of its best qualities is its ability to maintain its identity outside of being a queer story- providing commentary on a wide range of topics relevant to high school, youth, etc. I can't really describe the effect of finally being able to read girls just being fucking stupid- other than saying its like running your brain under cold tap water, if your brain was a lesbian yuri enthusiast with a perpetual craving for full-cream milk. As silly as it may be, I actually genuinely enjoy its approach to w/w and adolescent relationship. 2 out of the 3 arguable 'main' three couples have one partner that is gender nonconforming/visibly queer, a rarity for contemporary yuri as a lot of works- to no fault of their own- fall into pitfalls of exclusively drawing hyper-feminine women to try present itself more believably or because it has no other way of proving to you that the characters are girls. The negative of this being that ostracises an entire group of people within the real-life lesbian community and disregards the instrumental role of butch lesbians in queer history by refusing them representation in a genre for them. Despite how I phrase this, though, I'm not exactly trying to present School Zone as a Magnum Opus or the pinnacle of political-correctness and singlehandedly defeating lesbophobia worldwide (which it did); I just cannot stress how badly we need diverse gender representation in yuri.

The main two girls are both fucking hilarious and strangely adorable in their own way (aside from being every gay couple to ever™). Their dynamic mostly consists of Yokoe being a combination of stupid, evil, and helplessly down bad and Kei being a single thread away from pulling a glock on her. If that can’t convince you to give szg a shot you’re a lost cause + I’m unplugging your life support. Anyways, they’re only one of the 3(ish) main pairings in the manga; but that’s where we get to the difficult part to talk about. Touched on some-what briefly, but too often to be able to ignore (iirc they have a handful of dedicated chapters), is Tsubaki’s incestuous crush on her sister Hiiragi. It’s kind of unfortunate this is in here and it sucks for me to have to mention but In this specific case I do think it’s worth overlooking for *so* many reasons. At its’ core their relationship is mostly focused on teenage adolescence and navigating complex familial relationships whilst still trying to grow up and find yourself. In isolation both Tsubaki and Hiiragi are very well written characters; on par with the rest of the cast and really are both very likeable. It’s when their relationship with eachother gets played up for fanservice is when they start to shit on your salad. Still, though, the author pretty clearly has no intention of actually writing them ending up together/Hiiragi reciprocating. So it’s highly likely Tsubaki’s character arc will lead her to move on, especially considering how she’s developed thus far. Last Couple worth discussing seriously is Fuji and Kishiya-san. While I was reading I was under the impression that Fuji + rest were high-school aged and Kishiya was in her first year at uni, but the only source I can find that lists their age says that Kishiya is a first-year high school student; which must make everybody else be in secondary school. Either way though, the age gap between them remains roughly the same and doesn’t really change my hot take on these two. Out of the entire cast Fuji is definitely the truest depiction of the experience of growing up sapphic, unknowingly. She is also my favourite :-). It was also refreshing to read about a girl who hasn’t figured it all out and is just kind of weird and off putting instead of elegant and tragic like the atmosphere of traditional yuri + made me feel weirdly heard? Call me biased, or a victim of grooming ALL you want but looking up to someone maturer, more in control, someone who feels above it all is someone you tend to gravitate towards when you’ve felt helpless and inept at understanding yourself your entire life. Much like Tsubaki and Hiiragi, Kishiya-san has yet to show any indication of reciprocating or even knowing of Fuji’s feelings and is what I think a genuinely positive influence on her. I can also imagine Kishiya-san fighting on the mental FRONTLINES to stay as patient and kind to Fuji as she is, aswell as taking the time to talk to her and treating her like a friend. Everyone please take a moment to acknowledge her service in the troubled youth industry.

There’s also Yatsude and Kaname but they’re pretty interesting so I’ll let you develop your thoughts independently on those two. They also have ZERO buisness being the most beautiful fucking women alive. The things I’d let Kaname do to me are to be repented for.

#girls love #yuri #yuri manga #gl manga #shoujo ai #百合 #school zone #school zone girls #スクールゾーン