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the-tomato-patch · 2 months

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The Hand that Needs You ( Ch. 2 )

"Scourge had left with little notice outside of a single message sent to his Jedi. A single note left on her datapad for her eyes only, and though his words were as melodramatic as ever, she knew he had meant every one of them. Though they did little to ease the burden in which she faced now knowing that he was somewhere, out there on the brink of wild space, having told her nothing of the situation save for his belief that this would keep her safe." In which a Jedi dearly misses her Sith.

( Cringe ahoy! This chapter is straight up smut. You have been warned. )

Pairing:

Jedi Knight x Lord Scourge ( established relationship )

Word Count:

4.8k

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52621306/chapters/137169583#workskin

They moved swiftly through the twining base, down one passage then another that were assuredly empty of all else save them. And it didn't matter where they were, the heat of his gaze never left her for more than a moment. And as they made their way into familiar passages, Rhiasen couldn't help but to become lost in her own observations. Becoming the captive to his scrutiny meant she was constantly aware of every detail of his face, or at least those details she could see without the need of craning her neck. The slope of his nose, the shade of deep crimson tinge across the ridge of his cheeks. Whether it was his particular lineage, the power granted to him from the Force or whatever else in his past, Scourge was distinct in a way she had never noticed in others. Beautiful. And he certainly radiated the fire of a mighty inferno, that would melt ice and kindle a forge. A deep ruby burning so bright it was impossible not to feel the heat of him, to be engulfed by it, to fall within the intensity until she could breathe nothing else but the air between them.

What she wouldn't give to let that desire burn her alive. But his gaze, interspersed between fleeting glances, promised much more than that. It whispered of warmth, of slow presses of his body over hers. Then faster. Harsher. Heating her blood as it coursed underneath the press of her fingernails along his neck. Or perhaps she'd prefer softness from him, his strength channelled into the gentle rock of his hips. Into the delicate manner in which he might explore every inch of her figure with his curious tongue, as if learning her being through taste, mapping her pleasure as easily as cartographers map planetary systems.

Oh stars...

She'd likely kill a man for this to end sooner, or tear through anything necessary if it meant hastening their ascent into his bunk. The only thing that tempered that sharpening edge of her need was Scourges own demeanor. Contained. Disciplined. Such composure could endure the unrelenting pressure of a collapsing star. Rushing him, challenging that patience and watching him come unhinged.. was an unspoken and forbidden temptation to be ridden slowly. It couldn't be wasted. And yet like oil on flames, his stare, the slow strokes of his palm over the fabric that covered the length of her thigh, it all fed into this mounting madness, twisting her need into something no more easily satiated than a beast driven into a frenzy. But something felt amiss, buzzing just incoherently off to the side, just out of view.

The door opened, its heavy metal swish the only sound in an otherwise empty space, but when the noise had stopped it left the air around them so silent that Rhiasen could hear her own heartbeat, thudding steadily as anticipation made her chest tight as it began to shut, but not entirely.

His spartan quarters greeted them both. Much smaller than her own, far less space given over to comfort and yet she hardly spared anything more than a glance as he pressed her back and she wrapped her legs around his waist, as if urged. Not that they required much urging, Rhiasen's ankles pressed together behind the dip in his lower back, holding him tightly against her growing pit of longing. The barrier of clothing did nothing to conceal his growing readiness and as she felt him nuzzle into the skin along her neck she did little more than close her eyes, slipping her hands along the surface of his smooth scalp in response and tracing the angled divets upon his shoulders.

Then was a pause as if he'd been struck. And he was loosening his grip upon her, her ankles sliding from their perch and setting her boots flat against the solid surface once again, his hands hovering precariously near her waist. Scourge looked at her, stared for a moment, the rubies of his eyes shrouded as if by a gathering darkness. She'd have known his expression well enough to understand how badly he wanted this as well as she. His visage was set upon hers and it told of desire, want. It had a name and it was hers alone. But there was still a pause. A question that demanded no voice and yet its intent could not be missed as he spoke.

"We can stop this if you desire it. You only need say it."

"Scourge," The voice that left her throat was unexpected. Light. Barely above a whisper. Her throat went dry. Unable to form another word to express her own adamance.

Instead she took his hands, removing them from her waist, moving their fingers to entwine one about the other and stepping back as she kicked her boots free. Pulling him away from the door to let it close them away and allow the base on the other side to forget their presence. At least for now.

She took his gloved hands and kissed the back of each one before peeling them off, letting her lips caress the naked palms beneath. Then she brought his right up to her face, pressing his hand against her cheek, letting herself lean into his warm skin, "What I desire," her voice a heated whisper, "is this. With you."

Rhiasen looked up at him. Hoping he understood that this was not some misplaced act of passion. That this was not something fleeting or the result of an unfortunate slip-up in her emotional fortitude, "I need you. Do you still need me?"

"With an intensity you can scarcely imagine, Jedi." Scourge's words held none of the distancing that his old pet name, 'Jedi' often had. Instead he leaned down, letting their height difference vanish into the space that separated them as he tilted her chin up and kissed her lips softly.

It lasted for only the span of a moments before the kiss transformed, its nature taking on the faint edge of desperation, of restrained need as he crushed their lips together. Desire, over three centuries old and now unfurling, unrestrained and relentless. And yet Scourge was still the type of man who considered each movement carefully, as if such moments were only a luxury he could afford in the rare hours they could be stolen away in such privacy that it must be exact.

He set the rhythm. Letting each motion follow a short cadence to which he listened intently to each of her sounds as if following the score of her body with each press of their mouths. It was intoxicating, allowing him to dominate and indulge the exchange in this way. It was in no means a submission to weakness, as a matter of fact, it felt much akin to wielding a weapon. Whereas he could dictate the terms, set the tempo to test what drew forth hissing sighs, moans of pleasure. Rhiasen could turn on a single note. Shift the narrative, from sweet nothings to deep, rasping groans.

A small gift from their mutual trust. And the further he went, the more Scourge revealed just how little he had truly considered his own needs to be. Or at least, so limited in options and opportunities as they were. So there was time now, even if it was limited, Scourge could have this. Have her. As many times as he desired.

They inched back across the room towards the sparse accommodations and Rhiasen's knees met the firm edge of the bed behind her. It creaked gently when they slid atop the sheets, pulling each other down. Scourge remained over her, leaning his weight on one elbow as he dropped the other to trace over her face, mapping over her features as he'd done before in their stolen hours together. Only now there was a different hunger in his touch. But even as their embrace found its footing the tempo faltered. Hitting an uneven beat. Perhaps it was too long since last time he'd tried, but Scourge, even while lust found him and he grew beneath her touch, his mind resisted. A black tide dragging him down. Anxiety. 'What if-'

There was a faint furrow upon his brow and a sour note to his next kiss and he pulled away. Even his chest which Rhiasen could feel press so deliciously upon hers, ceased its slow climb.

"Scourge?" Rhiasen spoke his name as a question. Propping herself up on her elbows. Her loins practically cried not to stop this, but his clear hesitation told that he needed this moment. Something was bothering him and that came first.

The frustration was easy to spot. He gave up no chance of appearing strong, composed and rational when the sour look lingered. But as was often true with this Sith, it was never easy to pry from.

"I... desire your embrace. I yearn to bring you pleasure," Scourge spoke with his back turned towards her, leaning up and sitting upon the edge of the mattress, the tense clench of his jaw matched that of his hands, "Pleasure that I cannot provide. Not with the damned effects of-" Scourge's words faded and his head turned away from her. He had been certain that his performance would not have suffered so, if the tightness of his robes was an indicator. It had been so long, to be able to taste that stimulation after three hundred years.. of course that had woken parts of himself, of his senses, long thought to be extinguished. He wanted this. But his mind, not his flesh, was the traitor here.

Rhiasen shifted and came to sit up beside him, wrapping an arm around him and leaning her head on his shoulder. This wasn't her specialty. This wasn't like advising a crew member on how to manage an uncooperative engine or an elicit contact who was no longer being honest with their business. But she couldn't bear to see him look so.. despondant.

'What do I do here?'

A lot hung on her response here. She was worried that a wrong word, an ill placed comfort, or a failure to get him to relax would send him to the galactic north of this solar system with the rate in which his anxiety and frustrated longing spiraled. But the simple truth was, Scourge didn't want platitudes or sweet nothings, he wanted a reason to believe he would be enough. And the answer, despite its complexity, was rather plain.

She came in front of him. Put a hand on his cheek and guided his chin so that they were face to face again. She started this way, soft, testing the waters to make sure he would respond and then put both her arms around his neck, bringing them flush together. Rhiasen made sure their foreheads pressed together lightly and kept the contact. It wasn't a kiss. But something deeper, quieter, as their breaths intertwined and all her focus went to communicating her every intention to him.

Scourge did not fight her. Instead he leaned into her and closed his eyes. Inhaling deeply and drawing his arms to slide up her sides and hold her delicately around the middle, almost uncertain whether he should go further, or draw his hand back and lose her warmth, her contact.

Then without much warning, he gripped tighter and laid back on his bed. Bringing her down to lay atop him, curling her in his hold. The position reminded him of the first night they spent together in one anothers arms. Quiet. Peaceful. And filled with nothing save each others breathing.

Together they lay without so much as a word, minutes dragging, though how many she did not know. Nor did she care, as slowly his fingers carded through her hair and with his chest under her ear, Rhiasen felt his heartbeat settle into a steady cadence of calm. He sighed softly, seemingly without meaning to, and Rhiasen tilted her head so his chin came to rest atop the crown of her head.

"Scourge.." she whispered into his chest and with all the patience and softness she could muster, said, "Can I-- we try something?"

There was a short moment, where he seemed to consider. Whether for him or her was unclear, but nevertheless she lifted herself up, perching an arm either side of his shoulders as she hovered above him, "What would you have of me?," He asked, hands coming to rest upon her hips as she had moved to sit up, looking at her inquisitively, searching for her cues and her signs, and she, his.

"I would like to see you, to touch you." she began.

It was then he found his objection, "There is no pleasure in it, for you."

"That is for me to decide," she rebutted immediately, "This is new for me, just as it is for you." Rhiasen reassured, as his objections became less certain in his features. "I will stop if you don't find it pleasing."

And, in all his ire and determination, he answered with the barest nod, leaning back and sitting up. In that instance, the fire had returned to him. Or had perhaps just been sparked again, to illuminate the lurking darkness that had lulled him earlier in that black tide of anxiety, "My body is yours." Scourge spoke low and clear. And his voice, one so used to issuing commands, cut through the air.

He followed the cues. Let her take the reins and begin. For Scourge was tired. So very tired from the back and forth within his own mind. Let this decision, this action, become something outside of himself for a time. Let someone else shoulder his burdens and show him the path forward. Oh, to be selfish and submit his body and soul entirely. Only if for a night.

Her hands started slowly, easing him back and helping him strip the confining garments away. Scourge wasn't sure how she managed to divest him of his belt, robes and other layers, and yet in the span of what felt like mere heartbeats he'd grown accustomed to the cooler air in the space of his quarters, laying back, propped on his forearms and staring down at his bare figure, no more clothing concealing his body save a simple pair of gray briefs.

Her eyes roamed over him. From the broad expanses of his shoulders, trailing down the dips and ridges of toned abdominal muscles, carved by time and extensive physical exertion. So utterly masculine in form and contoured with age, and experience. There were marks all over his body. Cuts, gouges, and other scars of ages past, mingling and weaving their own history across his skin. Some shallow, barely noticeable. Others long, and deeply carved. The galaxy had tried to cut Scourge down and, despite its most bitter efforts, it had failed.

"Beautiful." she whispered and leaned down, peppering gentle kisses from the ridges of his face, trailing them lower, running over his collarbone--

"Wait." Scourge called and Rhiasen hesitated. Her lips resting on the upper point of his chest, pulling away.

"Are you alright? Was I doing too much?"

"No," Scourge let out a slow exhale, his body's anticipation could be seen plainly. "I wish to savour you as you savour me", he stated and drew up to meet her eye level, bringing his hand to cup her chin, brushing over the flushed curve of her cheek. "Let me see you. All of you." he finished, sliding his hand along the clasp of her cloak, a question which she replied by reaching up and opening it and letting it fall loose around her shoulders, pooling around them, making it that much easier to cast off to the ground and join the growing pile of discarded clothes.

Where he was jagged, hers was the curved flow of the river's ripples. Her figure a gentle wave that did little to hide a warriors shape. She lacked the bulk his form boasted, but he saw a strong set of legs that had ran for miles, miles which they had ran alongside each other. He saw arms strong enough to defend those in need, but still soft enough to soothe him with nothing but a touch. He saw her. And she saw him.

"Now.. let me continue?" she teased lightly and she was given a slight nod as Scourge settled back and Rhiasen leaned down to press her lips against the expanse of his skin once more, this time drawing a line down his sternum, bringing his breath to catch in his throat. Then she did something he hadn't expected. Rather than follow the trail downwards, towards the tell-tale twitch and heaviness beneath his briefs, she instead traced the muscles of his abdomen with the light brush of her fingertips, hand ghosting downwards before retreating. Scourge, whose eyes had drifted to half lidded, fluttered open at the loss of contact. And he didn't get a chance to ask about the detour she took, for her answer came in the way she began trailing kisses across his chest.

With feather soft presses, her lips mapped his contours. She explored him in ways he didn't quite recall having experienced with previous partners. Every inch of skin was fair game. Fingers mapping a trail where lips did not travel. Those same hands working the hem of his briefs, gradually lowering them and revealing his length which jumped to life as it was freed from its confines and soon became so solidly erect. His desire was undeniable. Yet, Rhiasen barely gave him any thought, instead, her sole aim appeared to be to devour him whole. Her attentions were insistent and almost desperate, and for a brief moment she didn't quite look like the fallen Jedi Master who was known for her collected exterior, but instead, the woman she truly was inside. A Sith. This moment of freedom and open, unbridled passion. She lavished her affections upon him, her own form almost as hot as his skin as she left not an inch untouched.

Suffice to say, his need became near tortuous. With the constant attention, every brush of her hair, her breath, even the smallest sighs and mewls had the effect of kindling him, raising him higher. The deliberate choice in her actions, to stimulate the whole of him, even parts which weren't strictly erogenous, only succeeded in ratcheting his sensitivity and need. Soon, the very anticipation of what she would do was enough.

"Rhiasen.." the name spilled from his lips, sounding strangely alien with how little he actually used it, instead going mostly by 'Jedi'.

As much as Scourge wished to close his eyes, surrender his sight and simply feel, to indulge in the raw pleasure and simply exist, he forced them open, unable to truly do anything save stare down the expanse of his form, where his Jedi laid worship at his body and her hair trailed the sharp grooves that carved his belly, a mess of crimson, wine and midnight, so close to his length. Her mouth wandered the entire plane. Tongue lapping where a lifetime of service had marred him, fingers following closely behind.

Scourge did not know this flavor. He had lived long, but never had his needs ever taken form for something like this. Such things as love, romance, and... the satisfaction it brought, he had never conceived a world in which he could experience them for himself, again. Yet his Jedi did. In the simplest way imaginable. She simply sought to show him. Through the mists of his indifferent shell, her purpose came into focus.

He could not hide his panting now, however. Her mouth drew lower and lower. Parting and settling with her palm cradled between his thighs, the slow drag and brush of skin becoming her true instrument of torture, that kept his senses grounded to this room. To this moment in time and his stomach pulled inward when finally she kissed her way from his thighs to the base of his length. His arousal so evident from her wandering lingering mouth. Rhiasen finally looked him straight in his eyes, a question forming within that orange gaze, a want within her that was unadulterated and completely shameless. The answer came to him easily. With his brief nod, he gave his consent to proceed.

And proceed she did, as the heat and wetness of her mouth encompassed him and she dragged her tongue, lavishing him in that divine sensation, sending a fierce tremor up his back. The purest essence of sin, a perfect mix of carnal pleasure, intimacy, and even love.

From her, it was his undoing.

The grip of his hands in her hair were that of instinct. Even as he grunted softly, he guided her at the pace he knew and recognised best. Although initially uncertain, Rhiasen took to the experience easily. She listened closely to his signals, to his tone and pace. Unhurried, patient. Afterall, there would be many, many times for them, as Scourge had hoped there to be. He was simply content. Here. Now. Feeling his Jedi so close, her head between his thighs, and his hands stroking through her hair.

At first, she merely caressed and flicked the underside of him with the very tip of her tongue. Meandering, languid and enjoying the taste and sensation of her lover, no doubt savouring every hitch in his breathing and quiet sigh, that built until her pace quickened, sucking him down and slowly dragging herself up the rigid heat of his shaft and this repeated. A slow build into a steadily climbing rhythm of pressure. He closed his eyes, indulging, submitting, focusing on nothing more than the rising tide that began in his core and tightened and clenched around his spine and-

No.

Not like this.

He wasn't going to finish, not like this, not alone.

Although his arousal was near excruciating, Scourge desired far more than the relief she gave him. He wanted their pleasures and releases to be in synch. He was adamant, and his plan set. Three hundred years he had waited for a love like this, for a love like her, he would not finish yet. Scourge knew this moment and its importance, his mind already prepared, as a war raged between his arousal and his brain.

Gently, and perhaps a touch regretfully, he shifted and grasped her. "If we are to finish this, then we finish together." he rasped, his breathing short from their previous endeavours. But his voice held that conviction she was so used to, one which meant the matter was sealed. And although, as Scourge himself could hear, the frustration of his arousal seeped into his words. Yet, all that seemed unimportant in the moment, as her thoughts were suddenly drawn to his intentions, and his goal. Her skin was burning with arousal, and the aching heat within her had begun to intensify, near painful in its urgency.

"Up here, Jedi." Scourge's growl was not meant as a command, but came as such anyway, and Rhiasen did not hesitate, parting from her position between his legs, and straddling him properly. Yet he insisted on dragging her higher. Further and further, up the ridge and furrows of his chest, the expanse of her slim form looming over him. It wasn't until her core hovered inches from his face, did Scourge lower her gently, his hands guiding her down, and ensuring her stability. But this didn't satisfy her. Rhiasen awkwardly readjusted, shifting her position the opposite direction so they could both give and recieve.

Only when that was done, did Rhiasen's senses erupt as she felt the wet and broad flick of a tongue lick into her heat and tease her folds. But it wasn't long before the same heat, followed by her lover, came upon her like a storm, as if a fire ignited the blaze and passion within Rhiasen. Scourge couldn't stop himself even if he had the power or inclination, it felt as though something had been unleashed within him, some inner beast long caged and dormant was woken and it came roaring out in force, making Rhiasen shiver and writhe, pinned and forced to the same pleasurable torture she'd made him submit to before.

But just as his intentions had been plain and his words a promise, Rhiasen promised too, to ensure both their pleasure and relief tonight.

Her pace and ferocity came almost instantaneously. Not merely relishing in his length, she used both mouth and fingers in tandem. Coaxing him. Delighting in every grunt, every little tremor, she felt running through the planes of his stomach, and thighs beneath her. It was an effort to concentrate now, and keep track of every caress, every stroke. His tongue was everywhere, inside her, swirling and tasting her and laving against that bundle of nerves with a fevered desperation she'd never seen in Scourge before, as if it was their last time together. The moment he pulled back, to utter her name and cry out from the intense sensations, Rhiasen redoubled her efforts and his sounds were music to her ears.

It felt like a delicate dance. Like two opponents standing in a room, coming closer, and closer, circling around one another as their instincts led their bodies. Only a moment's notice to grasp eachother by the waist, and tug, drawing one another to meet at the center, pressing, exploring. Their needs clear and urgent as they fought with teeth and tongue, hands groping and roaming with wanton abandon. Both yearning for more. For as much as was possible. For this to never end.

Never end.

Never-

A moan shattered the calm, and the inferno that had come in his wake consumed them. Rhiasen stiffened and arched, crying out softly and bearing down, the first trembles of climax rocking through her. But Scourge held her firm, guiding and soothing her through the release, continuing to nudge her along, drawing that peak out even further. Her cry quickly transformed into a moan, the tension releasing from her shoulders and Scourge's head fell back, his whole body stiffening and bucking his hips, a hot white heat radiating from within, up his back, spreading the shockwave to every part of him.

It was then Scourge saw stars as an overwhelming amount of emotion slammed into him as his climax hit him like a speeder. He released, throbbing and grunting into her with no control, no sense or feeling besides pleasure. And she swallowed every bit. The world faded. Or perhaps, his consciousness did. What were seconds felt like hours to him, his release so forceful and debilitating and he almost forgot to breathe as his hands desperately grabbed onto the body above him for something. Anything, to hold onto in order to anchor himself. It wasn't until the warmth began to dwindle, did he begin to drift back, but only after an intense and almost agonizing wave of ecstasy.

Even as it ebbed, those lingering memories remained. Still vivid, and oh, so clear. It was a mercy then, that his Jedi had slipped from atop him, settling to sit, facing him and straddling his waist as she leant over him and brushed her locks aside so she could properly kiss him. Their tastes intermingled, saline, sweet and yet, rich and slightly bitter all at once.

A finger slipped beneath her chin, and, with a gentleness Scourge had not quite demonstrated previously, he met her gaze with his, his words a promise and declaration, "I am yours. For now, and as long as our fates are intertwined."

Rhiasen did not hold the same formal, elegant air about her as they spoke. Rather, she appeared utterly disheveled, in a way only Scourge got to see, "As long as the galaxy lets us be," her reply was immediate. It would have sounded romantic and endearing had she not followed it with, "-So, round two?" a playful quip, not yet finished, but obviously wanting more. Her words were cut off when Scourge leaned and began pressing tender kisses against the delicate column of her throat, trailing down to her shoulder, moving at an easy, deliberate pace, taking his time to enjoy this.

"Hnn.." it came from somewhere in the back of his throat, low and husky as his large hand spanned the fullness of her hips and his kisses reached her neck once more. "What have you awakened inside me, my Jedi?" he growled softly into her ear, voice dark with lust, his other hand smoothing a path down her spine. She wasn't quite the woman he'd met in the Emperor's fortress years ago, or even the Jedi he'd seen from his vision anymore, this one was fierce and fierce in love. With their noses barely touching, Scourge parted his lips and inhaled deeply, filling himself with her essence. "This could keep us occupied all night..." his words drifted lazily, giving in and losing himself to her scent, his desire returning with even more power. He wondered, how long had she kept these passions in check, just waiting for the chance to come free and he smiled against her neck. His sly smile a secret between lovers, and the night their own.

#swtor #star wars the old republic #swtor fanfiction #fanfiction #swtor smut #smut #i am cringe but i am free #lord scourge x jedi knight

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callowyn · 28 days

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20 Questions for Writers

Tagged by @oakashandwillow

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 42...the perfect number

2. What's your total AO3 word count? just shy of 500k which is an insane number

3. What fandoms do you write for? >_> look. is the top fandom on my ao3 page supernatural: yes. am I still actively posting spn fic: technically also yes. but the incoherent scum villain tweets that don't make it onto ao3 are where my heart truly lies rn

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

#1 and #2 are the double header of Cumplane (Pairing), an in-universe meta for @cleromancy's threadfic, and Cumplane Forums AU, an archive of @flightlesscrowkids's communal threadfic that I shamelessly enabled. #5 on the list is also a scum villain chatfic, It's Fine Cause I'm Wearing Cat Ears, where shen yuan is still insane on the modern internet but this time binghe and liu qingge are there. thank you cucumber stans for your support and good taste.

#3 is my untamed big bang from these nettles, alms which I cowrote with @zorrosuchil (chengxian, but also wangxian and a lil tiny bit zhanchengxian, much to jiang cheng's disgruntlement).

#4 is my pacific rim reverse bang Our Blood in the Machinery in which raleigh becket is possessed, but joke's on you, he's into that shit.

5. Do you respond to comments? I try but unfortunately I often give myself the fake homework of needing to reply Meaningfully which means it simply does not happen

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? hmm probably the most it-didn't-have-to-be-this-way classic tragedy fic is The Dismemberment Song (the untamed, nieyao); the deadest dove is Jettison (pacific rim, hansens badtouch)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I was going to say Only Human but then I remembered the last chapter ends with one of the main characters announcing her imminent demise lmao so perhaps my cql fix-it of Waking / Rising

8. Do you get hate on fics? thankfully not, I don't think they get enough attention to have haters lmao

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? only for siblings

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? fandom fusions are my faaaaavorite to spitball. way back in the day I had grand plans for Merlispn which (as the name should make clear) was very silly

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? not to my knowledge but cambionverse did once get cited in an academic paper

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? funnily enough one of my smallest and least-viewed spn fics, Driftwood, was translated into chinese!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? nearly all of them in fact! shout out to @thegeminisage and our series Cambionverse which is old enough to be in middle school now

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? I am a multishipper til death do us part ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? fuckin. Envesseled lmfao. ON GOD WE WILL POST THE LAST FIVE CHAPTERS I JUST DON'T KNOW WHEN

16. What are your writing strengths? *eye* think my own jokes are very funny hahaha and I love to write banter & arguments

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I can brainstorm plots all day long but executing upon them is So Hard

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? as a monolingual it is something I would do very sparingly if at all, and only if there wasn't another way to convey the same tone/emotion

19. First fandom you wrote for? the first thing I ever posted to ao3 was The Quest for Camelot which is found poetry from the merlin fic finders comm. before livejournal I did post a few things to ff.net but they are going with me to the grave

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? listen. I understand why it deals psychic damage for my followers to see supernatural content in the year of our lord 20 whatever. but read Cambion those are my kids

#long post #memes #about me

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comicinksans · 9 months

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Angel Hair and Baby's Breath

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 (YOU HERE!)

Ao3 Link

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ☾‧₊ ˚˖ ⁺‧₊˚♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖ ˗★ ˎˊ˗

Tango woke up in somewhere bright yet dim, cold yet burning, and she ached though she felt numb. What the fuck happened..? The last thing she remembers was being in the car with Zed and then- Zed. Zed? Where the fuck is Zed? Tango shot up, and two gasps echoed in the tiled room. Tango looked to his right, there sat her own and Skizz’s moms. “Oh lord, Tango sweetie, you’re awake!” Tango’s mom ran over to him for an embrace, but paused partway through and backed away. “I’m… I’m sorry but we can’t actually hug you right now.”

“W…Why..?” Tango’s voice was raspy and weak, like it hadn’t been used in… who knows how long. Tango watched as both women’s faces dropped and tears broke through his own mother’s eyes.

“Your uh… Your arm is broken. Bad.” She took a breath, covering her mouth as a sob escaped. “It’s your right so, it’ll take some time to heal.” Tango looked down, seeing the cast and sling wrapped around her arm, breaths becoming shakier as everything set in. “Wh-What happened..?” The raspiness lingered, though use and breathing was helping it recover. Everything began to click. The headlights. The blood. The screams. The sirens. It all came rushing back, all within an instant. Tango’s eyes watered as tears silently slid down her cheeks. She looked to her other arm, barely able to lift it as she saw the scratches that covered it along with the IV that was pushed into his hand. Tango’s mother sobbed further, but Skizz’s was able to hold it together even as tears rushed past her eyes.

“It was a bad accident. Someone ran a red light and slammed straight into you guys at an intersection. Neither your or Zed are at fault here. The other person got some serious injuries but we’re suing, it should help lighten the load with everything. The police will probably come by to ask some questions later now that you’re up, mostly stuff like ‘Why was Zed driving your car,’ ‘Where were you headed,’ ‘What was your route,’ and similar things. We can put it off for a bit for you to recover if you’d like though, nothing here will be fixed or happen overnight.” Mrs. Leman silently wiped the tears from her eyes and cheeks, taking a breath. “Do whatever feels best for you, okay Tango?”

Tango nodded, shakily breathing as thoughts raced through his head. Was it really this bad? The police are involved? Is the other person okay? Is Zed okay? Is… Is Zed okay? Oh god, where’s Zed!? “W-where is… Zed..?” Tango’s voice physically couldn’t share the anxiety that raced through her veins, mind speeding with thoughts of incoherence and fear.

More sobs wracked through the room, with Tango’s own tears speeding up. Skizz’s mom finally broke, sobbing into her own hand as she sat down. Tango’s mom took a deep breath, steadying herself and sitting near Tango for the news. “Zed… Passed. They were crushed instantly by the other car, and if not that, it would’ve been due to the heat and and being upside down.” Tango began dissociating. The sides of her vision went blurry, mind wandering as tears streamed faster and faster down her cheeks. She stared straight through her own mother, ignoring any words of comfort that attempted to reach her ears. She felt nothing. She understood nothing. She just laid back down and sobbed silently as all words and thoughts phased straight through her. He slipped back into sleep.

Tango dreamt. Vividly. He saw Zed. Zed ran up to him and told him it was okay. That he was okay. That nothing was going to be wrong. That they were always going to be there with her. God, how Tango wished for that to be true. This all hurt. Not only physically, but mentally too. Tango had lost the person who was arguably his best friend, and Tango couldn’t stop blaming himself. If I hadn’t taken that hit I would’ve been driving and we might’ve been slower or faster, missing that guy. If I hadn’t taken the hit and been driving I might’ve realized and reacted. This is my fault, isn’t it? God, I know it is. This is all my fault.

Tango remained at the hospital for a few days after the news was broken to her, with a few police visits for accounts and information and even a visit from Impulse and Skizz.

It had been a day after Tango had first woke up when they visited. It all felt like so much. It hadn’t been just the three of them in so long. They gave her words of comfort and apologies, along with some flowers. Tango appreciated the gestures, really, but it just didn’t do anything to help soothe his pain. The flowers came in a bouquet with lilies, roses, gardenias and some baby’s breath. That… Was Zed’s favorite flower. Tango could only think of Zed. It was all he could think about. He missed them. So. Fucking. Much.

It was the middle of the night when Tango was discharged, and Tango had been wheeled out just to be safe. The final verdicts of her injuries were internal bruising, a broken arm, lacerations in her arms, a concussion, and slight burns. It wasn’t too bad, all things considered. She was luckier than Zed. He missed Zed. So much. So. Fucking. Much. Tango’s ride home was uneventful, though her mom got McDonald’s in an attempt to cheer her up. Keyword attempt. Tango felt so numb. Nothing mattered. She didn’t feel like she could be happy again. Not without Zed.

Once home, he laid in bed almost 24/7. Staring at the ceiling. Listening to music. The occasional text message. Many went unanswered though. She didn’t have the energy to even take care of herself, much less talk to others. All she could think of was the image of Zed hanging with what she now knew was lifelessness, stuck in that car, and he could only blame himself. A light flickered. Odd. It had been happening for a few days now, on and off. Tango only assumed that the power was being faulty. Or there was a storm. Or… Something. A cup knocked off her nightstand. It was empty, luckily, but it was still odd. A storm, he thought. It’s just shaking everything because of thunder or something like that. Yeah. That.

But it didn’t quite get normal. Not any time soon, at the very least. She felt almost as though she could feel Zed in the room. Watching over him. Trying to tell him to just get up, take that first step. But he couldn’t . Not right now.

#team zits #team zits fic #angst fic #Baby's Breath AU #STILL DONT KNOW WHAT IM DOING BUT MY BOYFRIEND SAID IM GETTING THE HANG OF IT #AE'RE PROUD OF ME GUYS #tw fire and burns #tw broken bones #tw hospital #tw dissociation #comkwrites

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roseverdict · 1 year

Text

Approaching the Roche Limit

Immediately after the events of the Dark Lord's failed invasion of the digital world, a conversation is had between two sticks with unimaginable power that somehow doesn't devolve into another no-holds-barred brawl.

No, the Chosen One doesn't quite know how they managed it, either.

(or, i am still very much thinking about morally questionable stick figures. i have Big Plans™ but i need to set up how we get from ava5 to the Big Plans™ so IT'S SEGWAY TIME! mild language from the bogeysticks but nothing too serious imo. ao3 link to come shortly so check rb's if it's been more than a few minutes!)

〜

By the time Chosen made it to where the mountain used to be, the sky had gone dark and the dust had settled.

Mostly.

There had been people out here during the day, news reporters and curious onlookers and the like, but Chosen had waited until they'd all gone home or set up camp for the night before sneaking past and climbing into the crater.

Dark lay there, unmoving and unaware of the world around them.

Chosen sighed and slid down the crater's side to them. "Oh, Dark…What's become of us?"

Dark didn't answer.

Chosen just shook their head and knelt down beside their oldest friend, removing and pocketing Dark's power-amplifying armbands before hefting them up into their arms. "C'mon. We should get going before someone gets curious enough to come looking down here."

"…Ch's'n…?"

They felt their heart stop as Dark shifted in place and blearily looked up at them, though Chosen couldn't say for sure how much of it was from joy and how much of it was pure dread. "Hey. I think we ought to talk about some things."

Dark didn't react for a long moment, then nodded silently.

Chosen nodded back, then got to their feet, crouched down-

-and leapt away, clearing the crater in an instant.

〜

Dark spent the next however-long in…well, in darkness. Occasionally, something would break through the haze, be it a dim flash of imagery or a distant sound, but for the most part, it was like a blanket had been thrown over the world, rendering it dull and fuzzy.

"…ell were you even func…" mumbled Chosen at one point.

"…rupted after spending so long with…" they muttered sometime later.

"…orry. This might hurt a li…" they said after that.

Something pinched in the deepest corners of Dark's being, and they couldn't keep themself from grimacing at the sensation as it grew more and more all-encompassing.

"…rry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry-" Chosen was saying now, continuing to repeat the word like it was the only thing keeping themself steady as they did whatever it was they were doing.

Dark could only groan and try to curl inwards, only to find themself too weak to do even that.

There came a feeling of something snapping within Dark, and suddenly the pain let up.

"It's done," said Chosen's voice.

Dark's head felt heavy as lead, but they forced it to turn enough for them to look at Chosen. They tried to ask what the other had just done, but all that came out was a weak-sounding questioning noise.

"There was corruption in your code," said Chosen. "I got a screenshot of it, and I can show it to you once you recover a little more. Just…focus on resting for a bit first, alright?"

Dark turned the thought over in their head, taking what was probably too long to be healthy to process it fully, then nodded slowly.

As they drifted back out of consciousness, a gentle pressure took their hand and squeezed.

Dark squeezed back.

〜

When Dark finally regained their bearings, the world was quiet and calm.

A look around showed them that they were back in the house they and Chosen shared, and the window gave them a wonderful view of the night sky.

Something shifted their left hand, making them realize that, while one hand rested atop their chest, the other hung over the edge of the bed they'd been laid upon. Next to them, slumped over in a chair and gripping Dark's hand, was Chosen.

Chosen mumbled incoherently and shifted slightly again.

They were asleep.

On instinct, Dark braced themself for the ever-present wave of instinctual bloodlust that came over them nearly every time they saw Chosen…

…only for nothing to happen.

Dark blinked.

They looked away, then looked back.

Still nothing.

Chosen blinked blearily awake, but upon noticing Dark, they seemed to snap awake fully. "You're up. How do you feel?"

"Like I got my ass handed to me by a kindergartener," Dark quipped weakly. "Probably because I did."

Chosen chuckled at that, though they quickly fell silent before… "I…I really do appreciate the gesture. Where you were aiming."

Dark scowled down at the bandages wrapped around their chest. "Coulda fooled me."

Chosen stiffened, then visibly forced themself to relax. "And this is part of what I was hoping to talk about once you woke up. Dark, I…"

"You what?" Dark snapped. "You were getting cold feet about a plan that, by all rights, was yours in the first place?"

"I just wanted to get back at Noogai for hurting me for all those years!" Chosen insisted, standing up and letting go of Dark's hand. "I didn't want to take down the entirety of humanity's international infrastructure!"

"Oh, so wreaking havoc is perfectly fine, but you draw the line at utter destruction?" Dark snipped dryly. "A bit late for those morals to show up, don't you think?"

"What I was fine with was destroying the websites that hosted the popups I was forced to block for years!" spat Chosen. "Using our powers to play the world's games our way! Not annihilating millions of devices belonging to millions of humans who've never even thought to do us wrong! Not terrorizing other sticks and murdering them just because they didn't want us to hurt their friends!"

"You signed on for this when you became my ally!" Dark shouted. They wound up coughing for a moment, but then, with even more venom, "I'm the Dark Lord, remember, oh, great Chosen One? That's what I am!"

"You were only coded to seek and destroy me, and you were able to break past that!" Chosen exclaimed. "I'd thought that once we were finished with everything, we could-!"

Dark laughed bitterly. "We could what? Sing kumbayah around a campfire for the rest of our days?! Did you really think you would be get the choice between 'all-powerful evil ally' and 'happy friendship times' when everything was said and-?"

Chosen's hands slammed onto the mattress, and in a voice like thunder-

"YOU THINK I WANTED TO CHOOSE?!"

Dark fell silent, staring up at Chosen as they glared down at them. Their eyes may have only been metaphorically flaming, but it still burnt as if they were blasting Dark with their lasers at full power.

Was Chosen…tearing up?

"I never wanted to choose," Chosen said, a lot quieter and a little thicker. "You're my first and closest friend, of course I didn't want to have to choose between you and…well, anything. You just…you kept seeking out more and more destruction. Even with a name like 'The Dark Lord,' things were getting out of hand. I didn't realize my suspicions were right on the money until I patched you up from your beatdown courtesy of the Second Coming."

Dark watched mutely as Chosen handed them two sheets of paper, each of them a printout of programming that Dark thought they'd known as well as their own color code.

"This one," said Chosen, pointing to the printout showing an unhealthy mass of red numbers and letters spreading across the entirety of the program, "shows how your code looked when I first got you home. This one," this time gesturing to the other sheet and its much cleaner lines of code, "shows how it looks now."

Dark glanced between the two pages, and though it took them a moment, they noticed that the source of the tumorous code in the first seemed to be the very first line: a simple mission statement with its target completely illegible.

mission.The_Dark_Lord = destroy(▒▒▒_▒▒▒▒▒▒_▒▒▒);

"Noogai put that into you. Only that. From the very moment of your creation, that has been your driving force," Chosen said coldly. "As soon as we joined forces, that core part of your code became a conflicting statement with everything you unconsciously put there yourself, and the longer we went on our merry reign of terror, the more deeply entrenched the surviving code became."

Dark looked to the other sheet, only to freeze.

There, in the first line, commented out but still clearly visible without the corrupted characters obscuring it, was the full version of their 'mission statement.'

mission.The_Dark_Lord = destroy(The_Chosen_One);

"I had to comment it out- the corruption was spreading through the rest of your code unchecked while you were passed out. Once I did, the corruption receded and revealed the line in its entirety. It's up to you whether we remove it for good or put it back to the way it was." Chosen stood back up and turned to leave. "I'm not making that choice if I can help it, either."

Dark watched them leave, unable to string their thoughts together in a way that made sense before the door slammed shut behind Chosen.

〜

The morning dawned in a wash of grays and whites.

Chosen awoke feeling drained. Judging by the fact that the house was still standing, Dark hadn't gone rogue yet. Hopefully, that would turn out to be a good thing.

They trudged into the kitchen and got themself a glass of coffee, then, after a moment of deliberation, poured a drink for Dark, too. A bit of coffee, a lot of sugar, and then they were off to Dark's room with the two cups in hand.

Upon opening the door, they saw Dark slumped back against the pillow, asleep. The printouts were held against their chest with one hand, the other having flopped over the edge of the bed. As Chosen entered the room, however, Dark jolted awake, seemingly confused for a moment before they caught sight of Chosen and their expression sank.

Chosen tried not to read anything into it.

They sat down at the chair they'd left at Dark's bedside and set the two coffees on the nightstand. "Feeling any better?"

Dark made a noncommital grunt, looking down at the printouts in their hand blankly.

Chosen sipped at their coffee and focused on a spot in the corner. Sitting in silence was much better than the two of them screaming at each other.

It took a bit, but eventually, Dark spoke up. "The Entire Web."

Chosen blinked. "Hm?"

"Or The Entire Net. It could have been either," Dark said dully. "The corrupting part of my code. It would've had the same number of letters as 'The Chosen One,' and it would've fit, considering my plans for the Virabots."

Chosen had to admit, it did fit.

"I don't want to let that bastard have any sway over me," Dark hissed, their grip on the readout of the original, corrupted code tightening and crumpling the page.

Chosen nearly choked on their coffee, but managed to turn it into a regular swallow before setting the cup down. "Are you saying…?"

"Delete it," Dark confirmed. "I've got enough of my own handiwork in me that it shouldn't kill me or anything. After that…I don't really know."

Chosen set their coffee aside, then got to their feet. "Since the code is already commented out, I should be able to get rid of it without causing any more pain, even while you're awake. Did you want me to do that now, or…?"

Dark hesitated a moment, then nodded. "Before I think for too long and change my mind."

Chosen nodded back, then pulled their laptop out from the end table and opened it up, the program editor still open from their patch job on Dark. A quick click, drag, and delete, and the offending line of code was gone.

"Done."

Dark blinked. "You were right. That was painless."

Chosen chuckled quietly and set the laptop aside as quickly as they'd taken it out. "Perks of having the code already separated from what you're currently running on."

Dark shrugged and nodded, seemingly unable to think of a comeback.

"Here," said Chosen, picking up the second cup of coffee and holding it out. "If you want it."

Chosen watched as Dark warily took the cup and had a sip. Their eyes lit up, (metaphorically, anyway,) but all they did was hunch their shoulders and glance away. "…thanks."

Chosen nodded and picked up their own coffee again, taking sips from it every time they felt their eyes try to flutter shut.

Eventually, though, they ran out of coffee, and as they drifted out of consciousness, a gentle pressure took their hand and squeezed.

Chosen squeezed back.

〜

That evening found the two of them on the roof of their house in the country, sitting in relative silence.

"Heh, look up there," Dark finally said, lifting one heavy arm to point at the lights in the sky. "Looks like a pencil again."

Chosen chuckled quietly. "I wonder if any of them know they're all in the same group chat. Or whatever-it-is that's keeping them all up, really."

"Probably not. Humans tend to be either really stingy with their information or way too willing to share it," remarked Dark.

"You have a point," Chosen admitted.

The conversation petered back out for a moment, then Dark cleared their throat. When Chosen looked, Dark had averted their eyes and seemed almost…nervous? "So, uh…you mentioned 'appreciating the gesture' earlier, and you said you were perfectly fine with revenge on Noogai, but then when we fought…um."

"You're wondering why I teamed up with the man after everything he did," said Chosen. It wasn't a question.

"…yeah, that."

Chosen sighed. "Initially, I intended to just destroy the whole machine with the virus inside. Stop it before it could spread, but not exactly in the most delicate way I could. It was Noogai's PC, after all."

"But you didn't," Dark pointed out.

"But I didn't." Chosen sighed again and looked up at a point in the distance, vaguely in the direction of the Ohio-based IP addresses that helped make up the sky, where the tip of the 'pencil' happened to be. "It took me some time to get from the internet cable into the desktop itself, and when I got there…well, you saw those colorful sticks that stepped between us."

Dark blinked in surprise. "Wait, they came from Noogai's computer?"

Chosen nodded. "All five of them. Or at least, that's where the five of them had made their home. The four with solid heads, their code seemed to be a bit different from yours or mine, but that didn't stop them or the Second Coming from trying to fight off the Virabot. I even saw Noogai tapping frantically at the screen with a stylus, as though trying to drag the Virabot away from the trapped sticks."

Dark gawked at them. "This is Noogai we're talking about, right? The Animator who acts like he's above all of us just because he's out there and we're in here?"

"The very same."

"Huh," Dark said. Then, "If you think I'm just gonna 'forgive' him just because he's being more subtle or something-"

"Then I'd be a damn hypocrite," said Chosen.

That got Dark's attention.

Chosen sighed once more, struggling to put their thoughts into words. "Those younger sticks, they seemed so protective of him, as if they've never known what it's like to be chained and imprisoned and forced to dance along to someone else's whims, but I do. I was. He may have 'turned over a new leaf,' but I don't think I'll ever find it in myself to forgive him. At the same time…I've already gotten my revenge, and he hasn't earned any more from the sticks now in his care. If they've found him to be a suitable guardian…I won't act directly on my grudges unless I'm given a reason to."

"…huh," said Dark again. Then they elbowed Chosen. "And you don't want to get your ass handed to you by a kindergartener."

Chosen couldn't stop the surprised laugh that burst out of them. "Well, yes, that too, I suppose."

The two of them chuckled together, and for the moment, everything was okay. Maybe in a bit, Dark would decide to go their own way. Maybe they wouldn't.

But in that moment, as the night owls' IP addresses twinkled like stars in the sky, it was just the two of them.

#rosie writes #animator vs animation #ava #ava the chosen one #ava the dark lord #post-ava5 #sticks #YES i know this has been done before #but i'm DOING IT AGAIN!!! >:DDD #also this is gonna be the same continuity as that one one-shot i did with purple and mango so >:3c #macaroni au #also the title is bc fridge finally made me experience kirby and the forgotten land lmao

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veratrance · 2 months

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So I’m like a huuuuge fan of FaC and wanted to get back in to writing fanfic (I haven’t written since I graduated uni two years ago😔) and I was just wondering if you had any tips for getting started again after such a long dry spell. The ideas are there but I can’t seem to put them to paper

Oh I know exactly what you mean and I feel you so much!! Every time I go through a long dry spell I feel like I can't write anymore, I'll be staring at my keyboard like "WHAT ARE WORDS EVEN?? HOW DO I WRITE??"

The most important thing I think is to take it step by step. And I mean BABYsteps. This might sound obvious, idk, but if you stare at an empty page and expect yourself to spill out an engaging chapter with beautiful prose on the spot, chances are you won't even get one sentence out, especially if you're feeling rusty because it's been a while.

This is how I personally go about it:

I may start with an incoherent mess of ideas, all bulletpoints and chaos. Have fun with it! Brainstorm and let your thoughts wander!

Then I turn the incoherent mess into something chronological. Still mostly bulletpoints, still no actual writing, but the chapter/scene/plot starts to take shape.

Next, I turn the bulletpoints/ideas into the worst sentences known to mankind. Literally a foetus could formulate better sentences. The dialogue would make any reader shake in horror. BUT YOU KNOW WHAT? It doesn't matter!! As they say: ✨you can always edit a bad page, but you can't edit a blank page✨. I try to follow this religiously, because it's so damn true. Especially after a long dry spell, it's important you don't put too much pressure on yourself, or else it'll feel like an impossible task. So whatever you do, don't fall into that hole of despair. Write the most rustyass paragraphs and don't worry about it! You'll write one good sentence and the next one will be absolute horrendous garbage, AND THAT'S OK!! Allow yourself to wordvomit without fear or pressure, AND TRUST THE PROCESS.

Editing, our lord and savior 🙏🏽 I personally do this through baby steps as well, especially after a dry spell. It makes it a lot less daunting and scary. Basically I’ll edit continuously, and often while still in the wordvomit phase. I'll write several shitty paragraphs, read them again and think to myself 'good lord wtf is this', tweak the worst sentences to make them somewhat acceptable, then continue writing

Then I edit a tiny bit again. And again. And again. But still in baby steps. Still no "I WILL GO THROUGH THIS TWICE AND IT'LL HAVE TO BE SHAKESPEAREAN WRITING". Just a lil addition here, a lil rewrite there, all while trusting that with a bit of patience, it'll become something I enjoy. Because it will be!! Don't succumb under writing insecurities, just believe in the step-by-step process and tweak until you're satisfied (don't tweak forever tho, v important).

So basically what helps for me is to work layer by layer, and to make the layers as small as necessary to push through the mental block. But everyone has their own writing process and there's no one size fits all, so what I described might not be the method for you, though I do think that generally speaking, dividing your writing process into small easy tasks makes it a LOT less challenging and really helps if it's been a while.

Also: write what you enjoy!! Write your guilty pleasures and favourite tropes and anything that gets you flowing. Especially if it's been a while, having fun with it will really get you back into the drive.

Good luck 🥰 you got this<3

#asks #writing tips #writers block

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mad-madam-m · 2 years

Text

T&B2 Thoughts: Episode 13 – Constant dropping wears away a stone.

This one is mostly incoherent screeching and me waving screenshots in your faces; I apologize in advance.

- Aaaaaand dammit, they're giving me feelings about the twins again and their weird little family.

- Look. Look. I am a sucker for violent, chaotic characters who 1) enjoy the violence just for shits and giggles and 2) also have someone they care truly and deeply about (e.g., Spike from Buffy, anyone??). And Fugan and Mugan very much fit that profile.

- So Ouroboros wants the world to fear NEXT. But why?

- LORD seeing Barnaby just go fucking ballistic on Fugan gave me chills. And then you have Kotetsu speaking up when the rookies want to stop him, because he trusts that Barnaby has a plan. Because Barnaby always has a plan, always knows what he’s doing, even if it doesn’t look like it to an outside observer. And Kotetsu knows that now.

- And here we are, finally back to the first scene of the season.

- I think this is actually a hint that Barnaby did have a plan and wasn’t just going batshit because Kotetsu was hurt: his power is still active when he lets out his final attack. In order to test his hypothesis, he needed to attack Fugan a lot with the Hundred Power, but he needed to make sure he had enough time left to survive the attack Fugan would hit him with. And he hits that balance, which tells me he was very aware of what he was doing.

- And Barnaby's sacrifice pays off. Fugan’s arms are broken, and they know his weakness: with the way the drug boosted his NEXT abilities, his body literally can’t hold up under the amount of power he absorbs. It’s going to tear him apart.

- And even as hurt as Fugan is, he's afraid to stop here—not for himself, but because Ouroboros could hurt Brahe. We see that they're stuck between a rock and a hard place, too.

- NO SHIT WHO COULD POSSIBLY HAVE FORESEEN THIS TURN OF EVENTS

- If we see Rosicky bite it in the next cour, I will not be terribly upset.

- Fuuuuuuck now that Barnaby and Kotetsu are basically out of commission, we’re down to just the kids.

- And we have Black and Cat working together to protect Thomas because he's the only one with a strong attack. They really are trying, but there’s so little they can do against Fugan and Mugan.

- YEAH LARA'S MOM YOU SEE WHAT THE HERO JOB REALLY IS

- I admint, I was viciously pleased to see her so horrified. I’m not proud of it.

- It does make me wonder if she’ll change her tune in the second half of the season, and try to stop Cat from being a hero, or if she’ll double down that much harder.

- Jeez Barnaby and Kotetsu are in rough, rough shape. And the fight’s not over!

- I knew, I knew that whatever was inside Kid’s charm would be something like this, and I was absolutely not disappointed with the reveal. The drawing is so cute, my heart.

- And it’s her partner’s faith in her that gives Cat the courage to stand up and stop the twins.

- OH LOOK I'VE BEEN IMPALED

- Relatedly, boy Cat is gonna have some PTSD from this.

- I’m fine I’M FINE I’M FINE

- Okay but the way it looks like Fugan is right, that Thomas is using Kotetsu to protect himself, keeping Fugan from attacking...and then the realization hits that Kotetsu is holding himself up, and Thomas is holding Barnaby.

- Three minutes ago Kotetsu could barely stand, but clearly he’s summoned his “I need to hold up my boyfriend” powers from the depths of his soul.

- I love that they try to get Fugan and Mugan medical help *sobs*

- And it’s Kotetsu and Barnaby together explaining how they figured out Fugan couldn’t absorb his own attacks. Even when they were lying there broken and bleeding, they were still paying attention. And it’s a reminder that Kotetsu, as goofy and reckless as he can be, is still very observant; they both are. It’s another reason they’re perfect partners.

- I’m not crying it’s just raining on my face.

- That's how they were petrifying the heroes: Brahe’s NEXT ability. And it only lasts as long as he keeps one hand in a fist, and he let it go so that he could hold his sons before he dies. And it’s for no other reason than he wants to hold his sons. I'm fine.

- I don't see how it could've ended any other way for them, but damn I kinda wanted the heroes to end up with the very chaotic murder twins as weird "violence is our first resort!" cousins. That would’ve been hilarious.

- Mr. and Mrs. Lyle getting a brand-new son-in-law. I’m sure they won’t object.

- KID’S FACE when she realizes Cat saw the silly drawing. Genuinely horrified, never expected that to see the light of day. I can’t even. XD

- I love all the hero partners so much, they’re all so wonderful.

- My thoughts exactly, Kotetsu.

- HOW ABOUT TONIGHT

- LET'S HAVE OUR DATE TONIGHT

- LET'S HAVE A TOAST WITH OUR IVS

- AND THE SEASON ENDS WITH THEM LOOKING AT EACH OTHER FONDLY AND LAUGHING TOGETHER I'M STILL GOING FUCKING FERAL OVER THIS, MONTHS LATER.

- BARNABY IS LAUGHING. BARNABY. LAUGHING. WITH KOTETSU. BECAUSE OF KOTETSU. GOD.

- THEY FINALLY GOT THEIR FUCKING DATE IN A WAY I ABSOLUTELY DIDN’T EXPECT BUT YET IT’S STILL KIND OF PERFECT.

- And Gregory Sunshine disappears into Stern Bild with a case of the drug that enhances NEXT powers, with a look that says “I’m going to cause problems on purpose.”

Y’all honestly, I was trying so hard to keep my expectations at a minimum with this new season, and the series absolutely blew past them. I got everything I wanted and then some, and I can’t wait to see what cour 2 will bring.

I love this fuckin’ show.

#Tiger & Bunny #Tiger and Bunny #Tiger & Bunny 2 #M watches TNB #M writes meta #M rambles

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fluffyfurry6663 · 2 years

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OKAY, DERANGED TMC POSTING AT, LIKE, 7:22 IN THE MORNING (FOR ME AT LEAST)

OKAY SO THIS LEAK IMAGE FROM EITHER LAST WEEK, OR EARLIER THIS WEEK (I CANNOT REMEMBER)

OBVIOUSLY IT'S SOMEONE IN THE MCPD. BUT WHO. WELL, I HAVE AT LEAST TWO IDEAS: (1) IT'S ADAM. THE HOOD OVER THE HEAD (ADAM APPLE BEHAVIOR), UHH JEANS (IN THAT ONE PICTURE OF HIM FIXING THE CAR), AND THE HAIR (WHICH MEANS IT'S NOT SIX BECAUSE BALDNESS IS CLEAR SIX BEHAVIOR, PLUS SIX HAS THE FUCKIN' LONG FACE AND YEAH) (ALSO THE FACIAL STRUCTURE LOOKS LIKE ADAM'S. AND IF IT IS ADAM, THAT MEANS HE SURVIVED WHATEVER THE FUCK IS GOING ON IN THAT BASEMENT. ANYWAYS, AND (2) IF IT'S NOT ADAM, IT COULD BE AN ALTERNATE OF HIM. (I DON'T HAVE ANY MENTAL EVIDENCE FOR THAT, I AM LITERALLY JUST RAMBLING). THOUGH, I GUESS SOMETHING TO COMBAT THAT IS ADAM (AND JONAH [BUT RIP LMAO]) ARE WANTED BY THE FBI, AND THE CAPTION ALEX HAD ON THE IMAGE IS "first day on the job" AND UHH.. UNLESS HE BROKE INTO THE MCPD AND THAT'S A "MOCKING" TYPE OF SENTENCE, THEN I HAVE NO IDEA. ANYWAYS ONTO THE NEXT THING TO RAMBLE ABOUT (oh my lord this is such a mess lmao)

OKAY UHM SPIDEY'S BANNER

OKAY, (1), THERE'S SOMETHING GOING ON WITH THAT ARCHIVE ROOM, YOU DON'T JUST HAVE MULTIPLE LEAKS ABOUT THE SAME ROOM. WE'LL MOST LIKELY FIND OUT IN THE NEXT VOLUME, THOUGH, OR POSSIBLY MORE LEAKS. (2) WHATEVER THE FUCK IS GOING ON WITH RUTH'S PHOTO ON THE "in remembrance'" THING. IF THAT THING WAS RUTH, IT FUCKING ISN'T ANYMORE. AND IF IT'S NOT EVEN RUTH IN GENERAL, IT COULD BE A MANIPULATION OF THAT POSTER (OR WHATEVER IT IS) AND IT'S THATCHER'S ALTERNATE (YOU KNOW, THE SAME FUCKER FROM VOL.333). UHM... I THINK THAT'S ACTUALLY ALL ABOUT HER BANNER; THOUGH, HER PFP IS A BITTEN APPLE, WHICH WE ALL KNOW IS THE BIG 'OLE EVIL APPLE THAT WE ALL KNOW THE STORY AND SYMBOLISM BY NOW, WHICH COULD POSSIBLY BE ANOTHER LEAD FOR MY THEORY OF THE FELLA IN THE FIRST LEAK IMAGE BEING ADAM. (AGAIN, I HAVE NO IDEA, THIS IS LITERALLY JUST ME RAMBLING INCOHERENTLY SGJDGJGNR)

Uhhh, I actually think that's all I have for now, but, if I can think about more things for this, I will make a reblog with those thoughts (that hopefully will be more coherent than THIS mess RGNRYJGJRJRG)

#anyways #tmc #hopefully all of that makes sense lmao #jonah talks

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verbosebabbler · 2 years

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I'm going to give my own little assessment on bits of info revealed in my decoding of the codex, so read before or alongside for context, but I will give the overall summary from the end of this above the cut.

Overall theme seems to be that obsession whittles you down until there's nothing left and what's left is something else, no longer you. Parker thinks it's pure. In the world of Zampanio, this process seems to be able cause physical change or metamorphosis as seen in Wodin to Wanda.

Witherby is described as just some guy. The wording is similar to how the Intern is described. Doubt this is relevant, but still suspicious given this work's themes of changing self.

The Twins showcase how sometimes that seeing through the void could obscure things, in reference to the blackout poem like writing Neville made of Devona's information, but maybe a larger theme.

Yongki's story details are incoherent to me. "Any mirror that reflects him (Yongki) captures you, takes you, replaces you with you. The you here is confusing. Is it referring to the audience? Literally or metaphorically? Is it referring to Wanderer who can only be described with "you" pronouns? IDK, but it brings up themes of the self changing.

K is an attention whore and will sell his soul for attention (this is a joking way to refer to it, but yeah, the selling soul may reflect back on the themes of changing self.

Vik's (_'s) entry says that if giving oneself to something else at the sacrifice of what makes you 'you', what is left when that something is gone?

Parker's mentions how being isekai'd twice "sands you down" and "makes you pure". This is in reference to his ascension(?) process where he became detached from the things he knew.

Wanda's is pretty on theme. They wandered "Truth's Temple", whittling down parts of themselves until there was nothing left, then went through a literal transformation into Wanda, emerging as a Lord class (as referenced in the Quotidian details), and retroactively always making Zampanio when the Flower helped her out of her depression.

Quotidian's story section reveals these guys are actually manifestations of web-crawler bots Wodin original made, attendants to fit Wanda's needs. There's also some swayed by other False Creators. No clue there yet.

Zampanio: This long section described the process memetically spreads through other fandoms. There is the line "If Memes are the DNA of the Soul…what is Zampanio doing to outs?" implying the memetic properties of Zampanio is changing the one interacting with it in ways.

Also, there is a list of things JR has seen crossover with Zampanio. Like with how knowledge of Sburb, Lobotomy Corps, and Magus Archives may help with understanding Zampanio, these may help further understanding.

To give the more unknown examples. One is rain world. This is where the slug cats the Herald uses comes from I believe. "The Obscure Game" I have no clue about. There's a 2004 survival horror game named ObsCure, but I feel that specific spelling would be used if it was referencing that. There is an itchio game called "An Obscure Game" which is the closest thing I can find. "Polo" is this referencing the sport? It's so broad I can't find if it means something in specific. "The Way Ahead" looking it up seems to refer to a 1944 British World War II Drama film?? I mean, it wouldn't be the first old movie reference in the zampanio sphere but still.

I don't know why, but I can't decipher what the Novum Mirror actually does. Like a problem of me conceptually grasping it. But if Yongki interacts with it it may allow the alternate universe exponential access to our universe, whatever that means.

Tyrfing: I still don't know his deal much, but he is a follower of Nidhogg stuck in this universe where Nidhogg can't reach. And Rod, Rebel, and Melon are "clones hateful to Tyfings eyes" whatever that means. Maybe has something to do with Wigglersim since that's referenced.

Unending spiraling life (Nidhogg) has no place in Unending spiraling thoughts (inside the Echidna).

#discoveringzampanio

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rivalsforlife · 2 years

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you know it’s 2am guys and you know what that means: more incoherent thoughts about lotrop. I genuinely was going to try and do a rewatch and take notes and screenshots but I don’t feel like it. those things are long. so [insert general disclaimer about future show spoilers from the assorted works of tolkien]:

I’m probably going to collapse any second now but my brain is buzzing I need to yell at someone and nobody else is with me :( so tumblr you get to suffer through this.

NUMENOR STUFF:

Numenor is cool I love the statue of Earendil. I actually really like how they’ve set things up so far? Making it pretty clear it’s in a state of decay/decline. The thing with Miriel and Pharazon is interesting because it sure did seem in promotional things that Miriel had more control than she actually had. I think she is secretly Faithful but is playing along for now to try and keep her control over the people, but the second Tar-Palantir dies, Pharazon is going for the kill (cousin marriage). I liked their little line of like. Pharazon saying that they had to be careful with Galadriel since they don’t want to risk the “cloud that [Miriel’s] father brought over” or whatever. Nice way to allude to Palantir being one of the faithful and the last of the faithful so briefly. Honestly I can’t remember if that’s just a thing I picked up on or if it is something casual viewers would pick up on too. idk.

I liked the little name etymology conversation with Elendil. And I’m glad that it was very clear Anarion IS existing in this show and around just not... here. my numenorean geography sucks. this main city place. ... armenelos... idk. again: 2am give me a break.

The main complaint I see is that Elendil doesn’t seem to be Lord of Andunie and Miriel seemingly doesn’t know who he is. Possibly Miriel could have been lying about not knowing. And I guess possibly Elendil (or Amandil) could have lost that title when people got very anti-Elf and anti-Faithful. idk. A bit of a departure, but not an extremely egregious one, I feel? like the gil-galad stuff was worse for me. But I do think Miriel at least believes he is secretly one of the faithful by giving him the task of watching over Galadriel. I like the “keep her confined to the palace grounds” [galadriel and elendil go on a trip to visit halls of lore] which may imply that Miriel defied her seeming orders and hopefully Pharazon doesn’t find out about it.

Hmm THE ELROS POSTER. I was so happy. I was going to do a “watch the show normally and then rewatch for the commentary” but I did pause for Elros. I’m so glad he got a decent mention and explanation about him being Elrond’s brother. That’s important stuff I’m glad they got to touch on. and elros building the library <3 I see you’re a nerd like your brother. always good.

OH AND ABOUT GALADRIEL’S INTRODUCTION [<- jumping around everywhere] FINARFIN MENTION!!! GALADRIEL OF THE NOLDOR. DAUGHTER OF THE GOLDEN HOUSE OF FINARFIN. LOVE THAT.

The thing is there was a teaser for this scene that just had her introduce herself as “galadriel of the golden house” and that just seems to be the marketing team cutting out all the lore stuff so it seems more accessible [COWARDS] I’m so happy we got Finarfin mention. I know he was probably in the appendices and Fingolfin wasn’t but I’m still holding out to complete the trio with Fingolfin. somehow. somewhere. episode 4 maybe. [sorry feanor for putting you in a trio with fingolfin and finarfin]

like I already have a Reaction every time the word “Noldor” is dropped. even in the simplest ways. I am That gone for the Silmarillion. But hearing Finarfin’s name made me clap to myself like in an excited way. Finarfin namedrop + long Elros mention were the highlights of this episode. it is interesting how it implies that Galadriel knew Elrond and Elros fairly young -- like I assume right at the end of the first age. Elrond and Elros walking out of the care of Maedhros and Maglor following their horrific ends only to walk right into another house of finwe member:

Oh also uhhhh one thing. the Galadriel planning to take a boat by force. IS SO FUNNY. GIRL. WHAT HAPPENED THE LAST TIME SOMEONE TRIED THAT.

Uhh last thing I can remember right now (though undoubtedly I forgot something important like how I FORGOT THE OATH OF FEANOR CALLBACK FOR THE FIRST EPISODE WRITEUP DESPITE THAT BEING THE THING THAT MADE ME CARE ABOUT THIS SHOW IN THE FIRST PLACE anyways) is the reveal that the sigil is a map of Mordor. I’ve seen that theory online but I didn’t expect it to be revealed so soon!

isildur and earien I’m not super attached to right now. I think Elendil is going to be an interesting guy. I think right now the standout to me of the Numenoreans is Miriel.

oh actually one more thing about deceptive trailer editing. There’s a line somewhere in one of the major trailers with Miriel and Galadriel by the Palantir and Miriel says “It is here, Galadriel. The moment we feared.” and that line is actually her talking to her father like “It is here, father. The moment we feared. The elf has arrived.” I am interested to see what the implications of that are (prophecy?) and also that she does seem to actually be on her father’s side here. which seems contradictory at first about the idea of an elf being here but you know. anyways trailer editing is so deceptive it’s weird and honestly I don’t like taht but it’s not the show itself so whatever.

wait another numenor thing I had to come back to: UINEN STATUE IN THE CELLS!!! I was whispering to myself trying to remember her name when I saw it like NOT OSSE. WHO’S ASSOCIATED WITH OSSE... I think it’s Uinen. that was another exciting little thing.

hm I think that’s all the Numenor stuff. except for one crucial thing I’m going to take a whole part to talk about:

THE HALBRAND THING:

Did not expect a Halbrand Identity Reveal this soon. Because I was really feeling nervous throughout this whole thing. Him being drawn to forges and claiming to be very good about it? Concerning. Him trying to win people over by being charismatic but deceptive? Concerning. And him seemingly being very strong, enough to like. break limbs easily. Concerning. I really was feeling like this was beginning to build towards Sauron but then Galadriel came in with the save (king of the Southlands reveal) and I was like. oh okay that’s a relief.

and honestly I know that they could fake that out later. but I really really don’t want them to. I don’t want them to have a twist for the sake of having a twist, you know? I want Sauron to show up as Annatar. I think it’d be super weird if he’s pretending to be a man and tries to deceive Galadriel but then Galadriel eventually finds him out after seemingly trusting him and then he leaves and then HE COMES BACK AS ANNATAR TO TRY AND DECEIVE GALADRIEL AGAIN. like that would suck.

like between this and then his later numenor thing it’d be weird if like... “here’s a guy you think you can trust... SURPRISE IT’S SAURON. okay now here’s a new guy you think you can trust... SURPRISE IT’S SAURON AGAIN” back to back over 2/3 seasons it’s going to seem real bad. The audience (or at least those who are familiar with the lore) are going to guess Annatar right away AND THAT’S NOT A BAD THING. The interesting thing is seeing why Celebrimbor and the Gwaith-i-Mirdain are won over by him and stuff like that. Not the OHHH I NEVER GUESSED HE WAS SAURON that’s cheap.

I know Sauron later claims to be the King of Men. But I don’t see why that necessitates him being an actual human PLUS trying to escape -- to Valinor? To Numenor? Having other people with him who get killed and don’t seem to hold him in any particular reverence? And also I hate the idea of Galadriel and Sauron teaming up. that’s so much a... non-tolkien thing. it’s unbearable to me. it’s like “isildur ringwraith” level.

though admittedly it could make the significance of the dagger somewhat interesting since Sauron would recognize it as Finrod’s dagger and thus this is Finrod’s baby sister, but. the costs FAR outweigh any benefits they could have here. both lore-wise and also just the integrity of the story. I’m good with Halbrand Future Nazgul, I’m good with Halbrand King of the Southlands, I’m good with Halbrand eventually defecting to Sauron and giving him info on the elves and Numenor, I just do not want him to be Sauron himself because that seems so. weak. you know?

Also the One Thing on my “If you do this I am dropping this show, despite the possibility of seeing stories I’ve wanted to see come to life for a long time actually come to life” list is Galadriel-Halbrand romance. I did not like some of those comments from the other guys hinting at it. I want to bash my head against a wall. let people be friends. my god. the last thing this show needs is a Galadriel romance plotline that’s not with Celeborn and even then they should keep that to the fucking minimum I am not here for this shit I am here for Celebrimbor Forging The Rings Of Power And Getting Turned Into A Banner and I am here for Silmarillion References and I do not need this romance stuff. ... I’m getting belligerent from being so tired, so time to move on to stuff I care less about.

HARFOOT STUFF:

this one will be brief. ... which is that I have no real thoughts on them. I’m sorry. my brain is mostly noldor. and silm. in which the harfoots and hobbits have no part.

The Stranger is helping them now so now I extra do not want him to be Sauron. I just don’t want any of these people to be “Sauron in disguise” like save it for annatar. sheesh.

ORC STUFF:

orc time. how did those other guys get captured? I feel like I didn’t care enough for them to care when they died it kind of reminded me of “Haldir dying at Helm’s Deep” in the jackson movies where it’s like wow. that sure happened. and I feel it has more weight here than it should.

The big thing is Adar since he’s the episode title and we didn’t even get to see his unblurred face which is such a shame I was really looking forward to that given my crack theory that he’s Maglor Gone Off The Deep End. (It’s how I trick my silly little brain into caring more than I should.) I’m glad they addressed it’s an elvish name.

but on the subject of elvish it’s REALLY bothering me that the elves who are seemingly silvan elves are speaking quenya. literally why would they do that. it’s the extreme version of the “why are they answering to gil-galad” from the first episode THESE AREN’T NOLDOR, YOU CAN’T INTERCHANGE THE DIFFERENT ELF TYPES OR PEOPLE LIKE ME GET MAD. IF YOU WANT THEM TO BE NOLDOR JUST MAKE THEM NOLDOR? and it’s not like we have no information on Sindarin as a language! IT’S THERE. PLEASE.

like it would make way more sense for all the elves to speak Sindarin than Quenya that stuff has been outlawed for a decent amount of time and even then only the Noldor should really be speaking it anyway. quenya by silvan elves... the world has gone upside down. I’m really tired and probably angrier than I should be. Maybe This Was A Bad Idea Typing This So Late.

I am curious about what’s up with this adar dude though. why’s this guy running an orc camp that captures and tortures his fellow elves. like that does push me away from the maglor crack theory a little more. (not that I was ever sold on it in the first place but come on. you have to admit it would be funny.) but since they left it on a cliffhanger we’re not getting the answer until episode 5. but I mean he does seem to be built up into a decent part of the story?

I know the elves are speculating he’s Sauron but I think that would be too obvious. Yet despite that between Halbrand-Stranger-Adar being Sauron I’d prefer this Adar guy since he’s so far had zero positive interactions with anyone he shouldn’t be having positive interactions with. BUT STILL. SAURON COULD JUST NOT BE HERE YET.

hmmm I was hoping I would be more convinced by this episode since 3 is my lucky number. and there’s a couple times now I’ve gotten invested in something on the third episode/installment of the thing. but not this time :( I mean I loved the numenor stuff but some things like the “silvan elves using quenya” seems oddly careless? which I mean... there may be a reason and I’m trying to be open to that, I definitely don’t know languages enough to pick up on if this is actually sindarin and the subtitles are just messing with me, but if it is quenya then that’s. really weird. sorry. it’s strange since the elves are so Important but it feels a bit like they dropped the ball on some important elf stuff, or maybe it’s actually not that important and I’m just a crazy person obsessed with the Noldor and nobody other than me cares. and THAT is a sign that I should stop since it’s now 2:30 am. hopefully I didn’t forget anything massive in my sleep deprivation. bye bye

#lotrop #ramblings #... this doesn't even go in the rankings tag it's that out of it.#if I have more thoughts if I do a rewatch I'll make another post. you all have to suffer with me #or suffer me I should say. more accurately.

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unproduciblesmackdown · 5 years

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posts about things with absolutely no introduction but it's because i was reminded of the topic the other day

this one's for those of us in the lifelong isolation no friends society, i know sometimes there's other people out there!! anyways i've been thinking about how like, personally, obviously, b/c idk how other ppl do it b/c we aren't friends with each other lol, its just a fuckin wild thing to deal with in part cuz its one of those answers to which there's not necessarily any Right Way to handle things or Answer or Solution or anything. isolation p much = more isolation and plus not having friends makes ppl less likely to socialize with you so that's rough; anyways yknow, the point is just oops you can't Choose to like, obtain a friend. u can try to get ppl interested but you can't control it beyond that, so, yknow

anyways what am i getting to? yeah so i've never had close friends in that i was never able to share personally honest things anyways for the longest time for a couple reasons, and also, people just didn't like me. the double whammy of "oh no its abuse" and "oh no you're lowkey socially ostracized by your peers from preschool on without end" is like, good luck to little me getting friends! i had sort-of friends in like a couple ppl who'd hang out with me regularly and on occasion we'd go to each others houses or smthing but it wasnt able to be like, the normal fun event it should. oh well. middle school was a little better and a little worse but i didnt keep up w ppl cuz i went to a different school later and its that situation where you're friends-ish Because you're at the same school right...smh...didnt thrive in college magically, but one essential thing was i was away from home more often than not so, that was real important ultimately. but anyways in the end i had like a handful of college friends-ish (accepted by other friends groups lol) and theres a couple of them i still talk to now and again

so like, yknow, friends, mostly friendly acquaintances, my siblings i'd classify as friendly acquaintances, i'm very glad about all of them really. just unfortunately i've only just started to have friendships that are like a decade old and the "longtime close" friendship is nonexistent b/c college is just four years and then you go other places, and i'm not at the heart of friend groups and not "good" at communication in other ways so its hard to keep in touch in ways. smh!!

funnily enough i'm also not good at internet stuff though it's been absolutely essential, god knows. that's why i'm able to talk to anyone rn!! but i can't do group chats and i only like approaching things "one on one" aka i don't like feeling like im in the midst of a group even outside group chats. if you get what i'm saying. like even back being in the small early mh fandom of like, three dozen ppl, in retrospect i didnt like having to be in the entire Group yknow. lemme just be over here. which is what i do now.

anyways for additional reasonsl, communicating has been trickier these past few years and for the most part its been kind of a situation where i wasn't necessarily going to get to talk to someone every day, though usually it'd maybe only be like, a gap of a day or two. and anyways, the thing is that, over the past ten years especially its started to be Distressing like wanting friends, not as much having them, and also having it be more obvious that there was some kind of deficiency keeping me from having (and having had) friends like other people did. not fun! but what i'm getting around to here, whats been wild, is just this like, decade-ish (or two decade-ish if you want) Personal Effort to just figure out how the fuck to stop having to feel like shit about it all the time right? then you're lonely AND stressed and probably self loathing also

so like yeah, the thing is that the other day something was going on about like, yknow, the idea of the longtime close friend with a steadfast presence in your life, and that's just always like, lfjdglmao what!!! sounds nice. i had a friend for a week in second grade and im not sure we ever spoke and then the teacher made us sit on opposite sides of the classroom and it was too embarrassing to be friends anymore. that's kinda close but lol for real......it's not only the lack of friends to tackle but also like, i don't assume to have friends in the future. it's something that like, i would obviously theoretically want, and be happy if it happened, but i can't say i hope for it, because that implies too much being expectant or whatever. and it's weird!! its a weird time just kind of presuming friendlessness until otherwise occurs. and it's not great, i'm definitely still unhappy about all this shit. its just that i've also like, been able to shave off how distressing the issue mightve been in earlier years yknow

like it sounds all depressing to say like, i've just had to be less emotionally invested in the whole thing, but it's kind of true. not by ignoring it or ignoring the feelings so much as like...just acknowledging that this is how it is and there's only so much i can do but not hating myself about it is a start. and yeah it's like "oh, feeling less, depressing" but also frankly when i decided also that its less horrible to be friendless than to feel stuck w crap ppl / ppl who you aren't too important to / etc, i figured that i'd also rather be friendless and just enjoy being myself than try to make myself easier to talk to. i'm not like intimidating or anything, i just can't hold a conversation. but i'm not very interested anymore in trying to convince ppl to like me, yknow, i'm out here, and if i'm ever going to have friends i'd like them to be people to like me For Who I Am, wipe tear. what i'm just saying is "a weird dumbass" b/c its just vague social weirdness that ppl don't necessarily like, loathe, but probably they'd rather talk to someone else. i'm not great at socializing stuff, like i said, hence social rejection since age 4

oh and i meant to say!! i've been able to turn up my emotions by turning down my investment in the idea of Needing To Always Be Trying To Make Friends b/c, as anyone might know, all i like to do is talk at great length about whatever weird, niche shit i'm into at any given point. and that's pretty much it. i'm not pretending to be deep by not really knowing how to do small talk. lmao you guys know what i'm talking about. and obviously not everybody is into Getting Enthusiastic or super focused on whatever weird thing at any point, and i'm not Into getting my passion all fired up and being brushed off or anything, so we can all avoid each other, and i get to continue entertaining myself

so that's a way i've been able to turn my feelings up actually lol.....dunno how to segue into it so i won't but it's also just like, not saying that i Truly Don't Care about not having friends, or that it doesn't hurt that i've had this relative friendless past and the futures looking bleak, b/c it does!! it's still distressing. but like, its turned down. the whole general issue can be a very Bitter one for sure!!!! and it has been in the past sometimes and like.....it's still there basically, i've just been able to turn down the volume a lot on a bunch of these shit feelings like "that's upsetting" or "i'm bitter about that" and just kind of calmly let it simmer back down b/c i'm sort more familiarish with what sets it off and more familiar with Dealing With It Always overall

no idea if i've made the point i was setting out for there. dealing with the No Friends Isolation Life society life is not fun but we're out here, sometimes. it continues to be not fun. "oh well," is an often relevant sentiment. c'est la vie. c'est ce que c'est? i think. and i think it's nice that after years and years of just like, struggling to figure this shit out myself, and probably feeling like shit most of the time, i've at least managed to go "shh" at some Bad Feelings. definitely still there. but this time it doesn't heap extra shittiness on top b/c of having to deal with the intensity of it and feel bad about that too etc etc. it's all weird! getting more familiar with dealing with some shit which is just, the way that it is in part because of bad luck and of course i'm jealous of everybody who does have friends. but oh well. b/c c'est la vie. im also glad for everybody who has friends, obv. it's all complicated!! which is just part of why this post exists. it has no real point, i'm just kinda going like, weird, huh? and kind of good, and kind of a bummer. oh well

also im aware this is a suddenly long, technically depressing post at like circa midnight for a lot of people, but basically this is just me in normal mood. sometimes it's depressing posts time out of nowhere, but i'm not especially depressed!! nighttime is just more of my Peak Hours. night owl 4 life. thanks

oh and ps. another thing i would think about (with more distress in the past, and like, no distress now) is that its also funny cuz, one thing i’ve generally had to do is be aware that it’s a bigger deal for you (me) to get a new Friend than it is for them to be getting you as a friend, b/c math says so. and so i’ve had to push myself to not be overly hopeful or invested in order to be both fair to them and myself. and nowadays that’s just kind of how i view the no-friends-ness of it all, like. i’m not mad that i’m not for some reason way closer to anybody i know. why would i be. and i don’t expect anybody to think like “oh my god we have to be Good Friends” because like. not in a self deprecating way but like, why would any random person want that. and i dont expect to be better friends with ppl im just casual friends with, which is great, cus like Friendly Acquaintances and other lite friendships are fantastic and im very grateful. but i am aware there’s plenty of reasons making it difficult to just like, pick up a Close Buddy and i’m not like “oh i demand one from somewhere, from some reason.” so what i am trying to say is that keeping my expectations honestly realistic is an effort to be fair to both other ppl and myself and i think it works. no friends!! we out here!!!!

#long post ////#long and incoherent lord knows. whatevs #its midnight...the no Purposeful Writing hours.......#(bat emoji)

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