tag someone you want to know and/or some of your besties.
I was tagged by @fourth-quartet 😊 Thank you!!
favourite colour: Gray but I'm currently in a brown phase
last song: I've got recently reacquainted with Beginner by AKB48 😄
last series: The Kidnapping Day. It was a lot more wholesome than the name suggests.
last movie: Saw X (surprisingly also a lot more wholesome than you'd expect????)
sweet/savoury/spicy: Sweet :3
currently watching:
Koisenu Futari
Chains of Heart
The Golden Girls (season 1)
Love in the Air (2nd rewatch)
other stuff I watched this year: Not listing all of it here (I've never watched so much stuff as I did in 2023), but I'll mention the ones that I enjoyed watching the most from each month so far (*not including rewatches):
JAN: Wednesday
FEB: GAP
MAR: Not Me
APR: Tick, Tick... Boom!
MAY: Utsukushii Kare
JUN: Tale of the Nine-Tailed 1938
JUL: Takin' Over The Asylum
AUG: Marry My Dead Body
SEP: Utsukushii Kare: Eternal
OCT: The Sandman
shows I dropped this year/didn't finish: I barely remember the ones I watched till the very end 🤡 But ok, let me see...
Eve (dropped after one episode; Rich People and their Rich People Problems™, I think was the reason)
A few straight GMMTV shows that I didn't really catch the name (I. Well. I just. I just couldn't make myself give a fuck, ok 😔)
+ Currently deliberating whether or not I should drop Chains of Heart. All the subtitles I've found are lacking in terms of coherence, and the story itself is already not the most straightforward, so I can only hope I'm understanding what's going on at all? 😀 And I'm also not feeling the main couple from either the present nor the past (? I suspect they are the same (but I may never know))... HOWEVER, I like the acting of the main, and the Thai scenario that is not Bangkok for once. That's always refreshing. And sometimes the cinematography is pretty too... Decisions, decisions...
currently listening to: Back for More by TXT & Anitta (I went after the link for it and distractedly searched for "banger" instead of the title 😆)
currently reading: Codename Villanelle (it's a small book but I'm. ..struggle)
current obsession: I'm not obsessing over anything at the moment 😟☹😫 Have been too busy with mundane adult life problems (therefore, as you can imagine, I'm just about going up the walls here :))
tagging: @eatprayworm @thisautistic @hyp-no-tic @visualtaehyun hi 👋
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picking a dog from his tag.
part i,
information: leon kennedy x oc, military – even though the writer doesn't know a thing about it –
word count: 1k±
writer note: to be honest, i wasn't planning to write it as a fic—maybe some scribble? i don't know how i ended up, writing a second part even though i wasn't sure i liked the idea or not. maybe it was because i love that cutscene in re4r, who knows? it's going to be a long fic, a slow burn probably but it actually depends on my mood. iʼm not planning to give information about my oc, not yet at least.
Every damn day, his survivor guilt consumed him. A piece of his soul was eaten and chewed by his thoughts, making him avoid the mirrors so he wouldn't see how much of a mess he was. There were too many thoughts running through his mind, making him stay awake in his bed. The Raccoon City Incident wasn’t that long ago. Six months, half a year—not that much time passed to forget what happened that night.
He always regrets the fact that he was only able to save a small number of people that day and the events in Raccoon City left an indelible impression on his thoughts and dreams. He thought about ending his life more than once; with just a quick bullet to the head, he would be gone for good. He was a rookie police officer, yes, but that shouldn't be an excuse. What would happen if he arrived on time for his first day?
Maybe he could've helped more people, and maybe Lt. Branagh would've survived that night. He can't get his mind off the chances—besides his rough training, of course. It was a great thing to get thrown to the ground by his recruits. It makes him stop thinking, even for a moment. Yes, his ass was getting kicked, but the pain wasn't as bad as the voices in his head.
At least, that is what he was thinking until he found himself staring at the edge of the knife in his hand. It weighed no more than the practice knives, but somehow, it felt heavier—not because of its weight but because the thought of it being able to cut the skin made him shiver.
His fingers wrapped around it, his eyes meeting with his recruit. Leon was waiting for him to make the first move: it wasn't the first time they had a match yet, and being careful was better than to be sorry. Leon knew he was skilled, but even skillful people made mistakes. What if he can't dodge? Or what if he cut too deep?
Major Krauser's voice helped him escape his thoughts.
"Three,"
His eyes met with his opponent’s gaze, taking the measure of the black-haired man.
"Two,"
He takes a defensive position. He knew how his opponent fought. He managed to survive from a bullet; he managed to survive that night. He was not unfamiliar with the pain.
"One."
Even though Major Krauser's voice was as steel-cold as the knife in his hand, no one moved.
Their gazes met as if they were both waiting for the other to start. Leon stayed at a safe distance; he could only stare at him.
Oh god,
Oh god.
He was nervous. He was scared. And he felt like a deer in highlights. Even though he was aware that a misstep on the battlefield may result in his death, thoughts of what happened that night began to dominate his head. He knew how to use a knife, but it was different. That wasn't a practice knife. That was a real knife. It can cut; it can cut too deep.
How could he protect anyone if he was this weak?
Weak,
Weak.
Is this how it feels? It wasn't a pleasing feeling, having that much power in his hand after so many months.
He waited like he was some of a hunter waiting for his prey to make a mistake. His blue eyes wandered about him, his foot movements, his breathing. And he was doing the same thing to Leon. Both of them were waiting for that small move.
He felt like a god and a man at the same time.
That knife is real, and if it touches me, it will bleed. And a hesitation would get me killed.
After some doubts, he decided to make the first move and get the upper hand. His attack was getting blocked by the click sound of steel, their knives crashing into each other before they maintained a safe distance between them.
Both of them were not too sure what they should do. They weren't that much different from newborn animals trying to adapt to the new environment around them.
Should he try to attack again? Or should he wait until his opponent's next move? His mind was getting filled with a lot of things, a lot of thoughts, a lot of feelings. It was a mix—a mix of everything. But it shouldn't be. His focus should be on his opponent, not his thoughts. He mentally slapped himself before he dodged their attack, and it felt like a warning. They were playing it safe, but not everyone was like that.
When he tried to attack again, this time, instead of trying to dodge it, Leon decided to take the risk. Before his knife landed on Leon’s dominant arm, he grabbed his knife with his non-dominant hand, making his hand empty so he could grab the taller man’s arm.
Was it worth the risk? If Leon and his opponent didn't have that much of a physical power difference, the answer would've been "no," but that wasn't the case.
Leon grabbed him by his wrist, the one holding the knife, his knife touching the other man’s waist. One more inch and it would've hurt him. In return, he got a kick in his stomach, making him bite his inner cheek. It was like a constant game of tag.
The other recruits were watching Leon and his opponent: maybe taking mental notes, deciding how they should act when it was their turn. His forehead began to sweat as the sound of steel striking steel filled the sparring area. His breathing was unsteady. His pupils grew larger. None of them had any intentions of stopping. Before Krauser's voice cut them off, "Draw."
Leon first experienced disappointment, but it passed quickly. With only one word, his stiff muscles were released. He even didn't realize that his opponent had cut his arm in several places; they weren't too deep, but they drew blood.
His opponent most likely experienced the same situation. He took a deep breath, trying to control his inhales and exhales. His chest rose and fell with an unsteady rhythm till he had the power to get up from the ground. As his opponent did the same thing, he offered his hand for a shake. What a gentleman, he thought as his hand met with Leon’s right hand.
It wasn't their first training match, and it wouldn't be the last. Their smile was a promise to that.
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🐝 remedy and wrong entwine (+ any fandom/ship/characters you want <3)
John is lonely.
He has Alecto, sure, but he’s had her quite a while, and he can’t live on a singular peer.
(He thinks Alecto is a peer. She has to be. She’s the closest thing to it, anyway.)
He’s considered this course of action before, but he always vetoed the thought before it could end up anywhere potent. To resurrect on such a tiny scale, to pick a handful of souls out of eight billion crying dead- it might hurt Alecto, and more importantly it might hurt their souls, not to mention it would be impossible.
But all those grievances are minuscule when compared to John’s vast loneliness. They poke out like little pins in a vast empty unfinished quilt.
He wants to start big. His nana is a no-go, she’d be furious. Anyone he knew in life is out of bounds, outside maybe Gary or the nun. They liked where he was headed, but even they might not appreciate the omnicide.
The thought comes to John unbidden:
What if they didn’t remember?
Or; John prepares to resurrect his oldest friends.
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First Words Meme
Tagged by @shoshiwrites — thank you, kind friend!
Rules: post the first lines of your 10 most recent fanfics.
1. The dentist’s apprentice was whistling tunelessly down the great hall of Mansion House in the slanting afternoon light; the haphazard arrangements of the ailing and the dying did not seem to impede his progress much, for all he barely seemed to look. (A monster then, a dream)
2. “You are doing it again,” said Nellie Treat, who was drumming the fingers of one hand against the table, and resting her head against the fist of the other. (Customs and Duties, Ch. 29: Some Unhappy Derelict)
3. Maura Franklin found that she did not like the Prometheus any better on second acquaintance than she had at the first: the deck was cold underfoot – slick, too, but not only with the marine damp she had accustomed herself to. (One’s A’self encounter - In lonesome place)
4. He rarely dreams of Sara, because her memory is still a coal too hot to touch – what he feels for Nina (for his daughters, he ought to say.) may be a burden too much for any man to bear, but pure grief is just that: grief, and grief alone. (mit der Kerze Schimmer)
5. “Have you taken leave of your senses?” Daniel Hendricks hissed, darting a glance at the cabin door. (Customs and Duties, Ch. 28: Enough Ground To Stand On)
6. Jérôme has had but one plan, these past years – a simple one. (The stiff Heart questions)
7. It is not the first time in his life that great strain has dug a well in his memory – a poor choice of words, but he can think of no other way to express it. (to the grave)
8. Elizabeth did not think, for many days, on what had transpired on the ramparts of Fort Charles. (the straight path to the end of my days)
9. Maura has said, not in such words, that it is unlikely this is a dream; in this matter, despite their mutual deceits, he trusts her. (think of nothing but of getting home)
10. It’s a terrible place, this – descended through the maelstrom, through impossibility, as though she were one of M. Verne’s protagonists! – but there is no wonder here. (And on the strangest sea -)
Tagging: @theonlyredcar, @sagiow, @jomiddlemarch, @fatherramiro, @r-osehips, @starsuncounted, @fericita-s, @mercurygray, @norrrington, @enchi-elm.
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I think in the Nahashin Marshes, while there is still the idea that you should be careful about giving your name and face, they tend toward a more . . . well, I wouldn't say benevolent doppelganger concept so much as neutral. you see yourself doing or experiencing something that has yet to occur. this is a warning, albeit a frequently unclear one. you would do well to heed it. it's not always something you can avoid, though. sometimes it's a sign that, well, you should get your affairs in order. whether what it portends be good or ill, and whether it be something avoidable or assured, it is more warning than most ever get and thus its own sort of valuable.
this is not exclusive to the Marshes, just more prevalent there than other places.
I think what's most common in Serault is the idea that everyone has a double. no one's really sure what the double's purpose is, and nowadays some say it's a spirit on the other side of the Veil reflecting your life, but whatever the case may be it is said there is a double. this is perfectly fine. except sometimes the double goes rogue. maybe because it got a bit of your face, a bit of your name, or just got a bit restless — either way it goes wandering off away from you to do as it wills. now your double may precede you at times. you plan to visit your mother, for example, and when you show up she swears you were just there a moment ago. that was your double going ahead of you. this is fine. the problem is when your double starts going too far, getting too independent. the double does things you didn't intend, goes places you didn't plan. the more independent your double becomes, the more problems this causes for you. maybe you get in trouble for things you never did. maybe you start getting too tired, stretched thin. maybe you start losing track of time, forgetting things, get gaps in your memory. maybe you're becoming the double instead or else you are fading out of existence — either way it ain't good. when this happens, well there's nothing for it but to pray for the grace of Masked Andraste and hunt your double down. bring them to heel. killing them, though . . . that has consequences. the hunt isn't always about the kill, and that's a lesson you better learn young.
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