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albaskies · 14 days

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But Daddy, I love him!

Written for @corneliaavenue-ao3's The Tortured Potters Department - Several Sunlit Daylights Fest | Read here or on AO3:

Ginny is extremely pleased with herself for having somehow managed to turn the candles in her room back on. She hasn’t done it on purpose, of course, nor has she premeditated it - she simply squeezed her eyes shut, wishing so very hard that she didn’t have to go to sleep, and upon opening them, she found her room dimly lit again. She’s started to display her first signs of magic lately, and she’s very proud of having caught up with her brothers in that regard, of being one step closer to them. Sometimes she finds herself dreaming that, if she keeps up with this pace and maybe if she manages to practice a bit, she’ll receive her Hogwarts letter early and she’ll be able to join Bill and Charlie there…

A gentle knock on the door distracts her from her thoughts, and her father enters the room, his glasses slid down the tip of his nose, his smile drowsy.

‘Ginny,’ he sighs, but still looking at her fondly. He seems to have decided to ignore the candles that are inexplicably lighting the room. ‘Shouldn’t you be asleep already?’

Ginny shrugs, a wry smirk painted on her face. She’s relieved that it’s her dad who’s found her still awake, rather than her mum. Her mum would hush her back to bed, not wanting to hear a single word - but with her dad, she knows she has more leeway, she knows that he’ll sit with her and watch her until she falls asleep.

‘Can you tell me the story of the Boy Who Lived?’

Her father sighs again, as he approaches her bed and sits down next to her. She scooches over, trying to leave as much space as she can for him to be comfortable.

‘Why do you like that story so much?’

‘Because,’ says Ginny, taking a big breath. ‘Well, because I love him, Daddy!’

Her dad’s eyes are bewildered as he lets out a hearty laugh. ‘Oh, do you now? And why’s that?’

‘Because he’s all alone, his Mummy and Daddy died and he doesn’t have any brothers or sisters,’ replies Ginny, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. ‘Mum said that he needs everyone’s love, so maybe I can give him some, too.’

Her father looks at her tenderly, almost in disbelief, as if he’s wondering how they’ve managed to raise such a kind and loving soul.

‘You know what, Ginny, I think you’re quite right. I’m sure he could use some love from everyone.’ he tells her, gently stroking her hair. ‘Come on now, lay down properly and I’ll tell you the story.’

She beams at him, and soon falls asleep to the sound of words she knows too well; words about a dark-haired boy, a lightning scar, and the sheer power of love.

The storm has finally ended, and now a thick, shiny blanket of snow covers the orchard at the Burrow like a layer of frosting on her favourite desserts. She’ll be able to play outside tomorrow - building snow wizards and witches or snowball fighting with her brothers, and hopefully someone will enchant the snowballs just to add a little more fun to the game. But Ginny - elbows on her desk, head held between her hands, her eyes fixed outside the window - isn’t particularly excited about the prospect, or excited at all for that matter. Quite the contrary, actually - she is really, really furious with her brother for spending his second Christmas in a row away from home, leaving her alone once again. It was bad enough, last year - but, at least, her parents had taken her to Romania to visit Charlie, and she had become used to Ron’s absence anyway, so she had stopped holding a grudge relatively quickly. This year she’s home, and everyone else is home too, but Ron has chosen to stay at Hogwarts. He was not forced by the circumstances, or else - it was his conscious, deliberate choice.

The truth is that she’s not just angry about Christmas, but about the whole stupid term, too. After spending every single day of their lives together for ten years, and after waiting for twelve exasperating months just to join him, Ron has barely ever spent any time with her at school. She’s quite sure that he’s even tried to avoid her intentionally on a couple of occasions. To make everything much worse, it’s been rather challenging for her to make new friends this year - which is odd, she reckons, considering that she’s normally very outgoing and fun to talk to. She’d hoped that Ron could’ve helped, that’s all. But his new circle of very important friends doesn’t seem to have a spot for her now, and certainly it doesn’t help that one of these friends is -

Her heart sinks in her stomach. Somehow, she can’t shake off the strange feeling of disappointment over Harry not being here, either. She’d wished she were able to spend more time with him outside of school; she had even rehearsed a couple of things to say in his presence, and she was sure, so very sure, that she wouldn’t have blushed this time. Well, it hadn’t been her idea, actually, but she’d been positive it would’ve worked this time. The only friend she’s been able to make this year has assured her of that.

A casual knock on her door startles her, but she doesn’t turn around to check who’s entered her room. She knows all too well that only her father would bother to knock on a door that’s been left open anyway.

‘Ready to come down, Ginny?’, she hears his voice say, confirming her suspicions. ‘Or do you intend to keep sulking up here for a while longer?’

She feels a little embarrassed by his question but, when she turns around to look at him, she finds with slight relief that his glare isn’t harsh or judgemental.

‘It’s not fair, Dad!’, she complains. ‘Why did you let Ron stay at Hogwarts for the holidays?’

‘He wanted to keep his friends company. I think that’s actually very nice,’ her father calmly replies. She knows that by his friends he really means Harry, because she reckons Hermione has a nice family to go back to. Although, it’s rather weird that she decided to stay, too - maybe she also wanted to keep Harry company? She bitterly concludes that she doesn’t know, nor she ever will, because nobody tells her anything, nobody includes her in anything, she’s always left behind.

‘Harry could’ve come over too, couldn’t he?’, she then asks without thinking.

‘Well, of course we would’ve been happy to have him, but I’m afraid it’s a little more complicated than that.’

Not knowing what he means, she feels suddenly irritated, almost as if her father intended to suggest that Harry didn’t want to spend Christmas at the Burrow because of her. That would make sense, actually, given that she hasn’t been able to behave like a normal person every time they’ve been in the same room. What if she’s annoyed him beyond repair? What if he… hates her now?

‘But I really don’t understand why Harry wouldn’t want to -’

‘Maybe we should leave Harry and his business alone for the time being, don’t you think?’, suggests her father gingerly.

Another wave of humiliation rushes through her body, as she feels that her father’s just simultaneously exposed and dismissed one of her deepest secrets. But she has to defend it, doesn’t she, she has to stand up for herself -

‘But Daddy, I love him!’, she shouts, yet flushing, feeling more ashamed than ever.

Her father gives her a puzzled look, his lips pursed together in a thin line. ‘Don’t be silly, Ginny,’ he says matter-of-factly. ‘Come on now, go wash your hands, dinner’s almost ready.’

Ginny gives him another sheepish look as he leaves the room without uttering another word, but she doesn’t obey straight away. Instead, she quickly grabs her diary like it’s a magnet, suddenly feeling the urge to let out all her frustration, shame and dejection.

I love him, but nobody believes me, she writes, warm tears filling up her eyes. Nobody understands.

Within a few seconds, her words made of ink sink into the rough paper, and new ones slowly emerge in that all-too-familiar fashion.

I do understand you, Ginny, they read. I am the only one who does.

It almost feels surreal - to be home. To eat properly, to rest, to finally lower her guard; to escape from all the secrecy, the plotting, the sneaking around, and, well, yes, from all the punishments, the physical strain, and the emotional abuse.

She hasn’t realised how drained she’s felt until she sinks in her favourite plush chair in the living room of the Burrow, surrounded by her family, feeling warm again. She even manages to avoid the prying eyes, quietly dozing off for a little while. But then she’s awakened by a soft thump - something small and smooth has been thrown into her lap.

‘Is it true, then?’, asks George, while she examines the familiar coin he’s passed on to her. ‘Have you reinstated the D.A.?’

Before she can answer, her mother glares at her with fire in her eyes.

‘I should hope not, Ginny.’

Ginny feels a sudden rush of annoyance tingling her body. Always the last, always protected, always underestimated. Always meant to be left behind.

‘Of course we have,’ she says mildly. ‘They’re torturing children for fun, you know.’

‘And what do you do when that happens?’, argues her mother sharply. ‘Do you take their place?’

As she does not reply, her mother’s expression changes from indignation to pure horror, her gaze darting quickly between Ginny’s face and that faded blue turtleneck jumper she’s wearing for the first time in years. She’s noticed, then.

‘Take off that jumper, Ginny.’

‘No.’

‘I said,’ her mother pleads, now shouting in fury. ‘Take off that jumper, now!’

Ginny isn’t really sure whether her refusal stems from her desire to spare her mother from further suffering, to protect her from the cuts, the bruises and scars she carries on her body like medals; or whether it comes from her own pride, her will to show that she, too, can fight.

She storms off to her bedroom, slamming the door, and she’s surprisingly left alone long enough for her to lie down and enjoy some quiet, exhausted by her own anger. Her bed feels softer than she could remember, her room like her only sanctuary in all the chaos.

The knock on the door she’s been expecting is weak and hesitant, and her father enters the room cautiously, almost as if he expects something to explode at any moment. She takes advantage of the silence to observe him, to register every new line around his mouth, every new wrinkle around his eyes. He seems to have aged years in the span of just a few short months.

She raises her back and sits on the bed, still saying nothing. He breaks the silence first, watching her gravely, cutting straight to the chase.

‘Has your brother asked you to do this, Ginny?’, he asks, unable to fully conceal the bitterness in his voice. ‘Or Harry, for that matter?’

She shivers at the sound of his name, her eyes are now burning, but she doesn’t lower her gaze.

‘No, of course not.’

Her father exhales heavily, as if releasing a tension he’s been holding in his chest for Merlin knows how long, and sits down next to her on the bed.

‘Why do you do it, then?’, he asks her plainly. There’s no judgement in his voice, no resentment. ‘Why do you put your life on the line like that?’

This is when she immediately looks away, feeling a strange lump in her throat.

‘Why do you do it, Dad?’, she barely manages to say, her voice shaking.

He sighs again, defeated. ‘You should lay low, Ginny. You’re already very much in danger as it is, being a Weasley. No matter all the stories we’ve made up to cover for Harry, Snape knows that our family is close to him, and that means you as well.’

Ginny scoffs. A few months ago, she would’ve found such a comment insulting, belittling, maybe even a little heartbreaking. But now she’s so full of it - she’s so full of having to endure people passing judgements on what she is or isn’t for Harry, so full of having to pretend that they are nothing, so full of being scared to death that she’ll end up convincing herself, too. She can’t resist the urge to laugh at the absurdity of it all - or, even more so, the urge to let it all out, to say it exactly as it is, because she doesn’t owe it to anyone to remain on the sidelines, not her mother, not her father, especially not Harry.

‘Oh, it’s much worse than that,’ she hisses, her sarcasm tainted with pure spite.

Her father gives her a quizzical look. She fixes her glare on him now, her voice no longer shaking, her eyes no longer stinging with tears.

‘I love him, Dad,’ she says, then lets out another high-pitched laugh. ‘It’s sickening, isn’t it? It makes me fucking sick.’

He looks at her, transfixed, too appalled to scold her for her language. After so many years, it still surprises him. But there’s something different in the way she’s said it now, something that wasn’t there when she was five or eleven years old. Acceptance, disillusionment, anger, sadness. Maturity.

His eyes glimmer as if he’s just finally laid the final piece in one of his Muggle puzzles, and the full picture finally comes to life. He seems, somehow, to understand it all at once.

‘And he loves you too, I suppose?’

Ginny feels a familiar, but long forgotten heat creeping on her cheeks. For a short moment, it feels good to blush again.

‘I reckon he does, yes,’ she whispers. Those words feel weird exposed to the real world - she’s never acknowledged it out loud, and Harry certainly has never told her. Hers is just a hunch, a gut feeling, maybe an innocent hope, something she’s never dared to question. Now that she’s said them, those words don’t lose their meaning, as she feared they would - rather, they resonate even stronger in her, they just click, everything falls into place, but they don’t make her nearly as happy as they probably should have.

‘Don’t worry,’ she says bitterly, before her father can say anything. She reads it all over his face - the doubt, the concern, the suspicion. She shrugs. ‘He’s already taken care of it.’

For a short moment that seems suspended in time, they look at each other - a daughter that’s had to grow up way too soon, a father who’s understood that there are things he cannot shelter her from.

He then awkwardly pats her on her back, stands up, and leaves her room in silence, at a loss for words.

She, for one, is grateful that he hasn’t doubted her heart this time.

Their wedding is a rather small affair.

The marquee that had been previously used for Bill and Fleur’s wedding feels bigger than ever, now hosting barely thirty of them between their massive family, a handful of grandchildren, and their closest friends.

It has been Ginny and Harry’s desire to throw a modest party in the orchard, without making too much fuss, avoiding lavish and crowded celebrations. After all, the saviour of the Wizarding world marrying an internationally renowned Quidditch player is exactly that kind of event a horde of journalists and curious onlookers would throw themselves at, like a swarm of bees on a honey jar. So they’ve decided to keep it low and simple - just like their whole romance, after all.

If it were for Ginny, she would’ve got married wearing Muggle clothes somewhere deep in a forest, standing on a random rock, for all that she cares. But she didn’t want to rob her parents of the joy of walking their only daughter down the aisle, or her brothers of the opportunity of celebrating their only sister on one of the happiest days of her life. And Harry has happily obliged - ultimately, it is his family, too.

‘I just want to marry you,’ he said once, grinning madly, his green eyes flashing like the day he kissed her for the first time, that tenth of May of exactly five years ago.

And so here they are now, under the marquee, everyone either dancing, running around or mingling, champagne bubbling in their goblets (‘I’d still fancy a posh drink at my own wedding, thank you very much’), married at last.

Ginny smiles as she watches her (she feels heat all over her body to even fathom the word) husband trying to dance with her mother, his new mother-in-law, who is sobbing rather uncontrollably on his shoulder, dampening his new elegant robes. Harry has the most loving look in his eyes as he gently pats her on her back, and Ginny can’t help but notice that he’s a little choked up, too.

She’s so mesmerised by the two of them, so full of love, that it takes her a while to notice that her father has joined her, and is now staring at her with a knowing look painted on his face.

‘What?’, she laughs.

He grins at her tenderly, putting an arm around her shoulders.

‘You love him, don’t you?’

Ginny lets out another laugh. ‘Oh, d’you reckon? Whatever gave it away?’

Her father smiles again, wider this time, squeezing her tightly.

‘You might have mentioned it, you know, once or twice.’

#severalsunlitdaylights #the tortured potters department #happy hinny/taylor swift day everyone #hinny

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readingbookelf · 1 month

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The Defense Rests - Spike

Summary: The Scooby-gang holds an emergency meeting when they find out you're dating Spike.

Pairing: fem!reader x Spike

My Writing | Taglist

You’re at Giles’ home, currently being yelled at by Xander, who apparently saw you kissing Spike last night. Instead of just talking to you about it, in private, he called an emergency meeting. Hence the yelling while everyone else just stares at you.

“Spike is a psychotic killer and you’re handing yourself to him on a silver platter. Have you forgotten how he came into our lives? What he was going to do to Buffy for his precious Dru? Who is also nuts in the head, I might add,” Xander practically yells in your face.

“I did not forget, but I’ve used my eyes these past few months. Spike has helped us out more times than one, even when he didn’t need too. Also he hasn’t attacked anyone in months…” you trail off at the end knowing the only reason he hasn’t attacked anyone is because of the chip the Initiative has planted in his head.

Xander scoffs, ready for round two, but Buffy jumps in.

“Xander, you have to admit he’s helped us out… a lot in the past few months. Figuring out who the initiative is, what they do, even fighting demons or helping out with the latest threat. I’m not pro-Spike and I still don’t trust him, but if he makes y/n happy then that’s enough for me. Also I’m the last one to condemn anyone for dating a vampire,” Buffy finishes with a wink towards you.

“Thank you, Buffy,” you whisper.

“So we’re going to ignore the fact he would kill us all if he didn’t have that chip in his head,” Xander asks.

“Xander, last week you admitted that Spike has grown on you. What about all the times you spoke about ‘everything we’ve been through together’ just to try and convince Spike to help out? Don’t you think you’re being hypocritical,” you ask softly.

Xander scoffs but doesn’t make another move to convince you Spike is the devil incarnate.

“And on that note I’m out of here. I’ve got a bed that’s calling my name,” you say before getting up.

“Don’t you mean a certain someone who’s waiting for you in your bed,” Willow quips, wiggling her eyes.

Everyone groans.

-----

When you walk through your front door, you find Spike on your couch watching a movie.

“Home already or you haven't left yet,” you ask the blond man.

“Home for the night,” he replies while smiling at you cheekily.

That smile never fails to make you weak in the knees. You let yourself fall onto the couch next to Spike while letting out the biggest sigh of your life.

“The scooby doo-meeting was that bad, huh,” he asks. “The end of the world again,” he chuckles.

You look at Spike and see the concern shining in his eyes. He puts his arm around you and pulls you close into his side. You let your head fall on his shoulder and nuzzle close.

“The end of the world for Xander,” you scoff.

“What do you mean,” Spike asks.

“You were right that someone was watching us last night. After seeing us together Xander followed us and saw us kiss. Hence the emergency meeting,” you explain.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Spike exclaims while jumping up.

Immediately your hand circles around his wrist. You give a little pull to make him sit down again. He sighs and sits down next to you once more.

“Who does he think he is? He’s dating a vengeance demon for god’s sake,” Spike spits out.

You rub his shoulder trying to calm him down.

“There was a discussion. I defended you. Buffy jumped in. Everyone is more or less okay with it. I’m kind of done talking about this, Spike. Xander’s opinionated. I’ve seen the way he was with Buffy and Angel.”

You shake your head at the end. The uncomfortable memory resurfacing. He was so mean to Buffy. It’s hard dealing with the supernatural world as a human. You realise how fragile your life really is. It causes Xander to act out like this, and it’s not an excuse, but it gives him some leeway when he explodes.

“I still hate that you had to sit through that meeting all by yourself. I should’ve been there. I’m part of this relationship,” he says fiercely.

You take his hand and squeeze.

“You were. There was this little annoying voice that sounded a lot like you edging me on while I was defending you…and calling Xander names I won’t repeat,” you chuckle.

A twinkle lights in Spike’s eyes. He presses his lips firmly on yours. A moan slips past your lips by the sheer force of it all. Slowly you pull away.

“I like you. You like me. And everyone else can suck it,” Spike says before kissing you once more.

#buffy the vampire slayer #buffy the vampire slayer x reader #buffy the vampire slayer imagine #buffy the vampire slayer x you #spike x reader #spike #spike imagine #spike x you #spike x y/n #ness writes

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kentopedia · 1 year

Text

please come home for christmas

chuuya nakahara x f!reader

wc: 2.9k

summary: higuchi throws a port mafia christmas party, but you and chuuya are in the middle of an argument.

merry christmas! this one took me so long because my computer deleted it when i was at 1.2k words :)

requested by @silverbladexyz

It was the kind of thing only Higuchi would think to do—throw a Christmas party at the Port Mafia headquarters, home to one of the most dangerous organizations in the world.

A ridiculous notion, really. Yet, you all indulged her, showing up in the least festive outfits imaginable, to a dismal and drab party with a very low level of energy.

The entire thing had been conceived as a fruitless idea, bound to be denied by the boss. Yet, when Higuchi told Mori her grand plan and Elise overheard, that was the only thing she had spoken about for weeks.

It was certainly a done deal after that. Everyone was required to show up.

Horribly festive music played through the halls as Elise choreographed her own dances, pulling in helpless victims to be her partner. It was Gin, now, who had been chosen as her pawn.

She moved her arms robotically. It was comical how she looked so much more comfortable with assassinations than she did dancing.

“Ah, you made it,” Mori said when you finally arrived, nearly fifteen minutes late. You had just finished up an assignment and had gotten back to headquarters as quickly as you could. “Elise was asking about you all afternoon. Doesn’t she just look darling?”

You refrained from making a face at the comment and instead smiled at the young girl.

Her curls were pinned up by a red ribbon, matching her festively red velvet dress.

“Very cute,” you said, nodding along to indulge your boss. “As always.”

“I agree!” Mori was too enthusiastic for your liking. Though you itched to make your way over to your team, you took idle conversation with Mori as an opportunity to remain on his good side.

You had a bit of leeway with him, since Elise favored you so highly, but Mori was too unpredictable. You didn’t want to test him.

Thankfully, it wasn’t long before he was distracted by something, signaling you to leave him alone once again.

There was a long table with various drinks, and you reached for one, hoping that it was still safe. Though you pondered it for a moment, you were willing to take the chance.

It’d been a long week—you didn’t think you really would’ve minded if you’d dropped dead from some poison beverage.

Akutagawa scoffed as you passed him, his arms crossed over his chest as he brooded amongst the more cheerful atmosphere.

It was an amusing sight to see. The way he itched to tear apart every single decoration with his destructive ability, while Higuchi practically hung off him, chattering his ear off.

“What gives you the right to be so late?” Akutagawa sneered, watching you with contempt as you took a sip of the liquid. It burned on the way down. “And why isn’t that obnoxious ginger with you?”

Higuchi seemed to notice you at that moment, and you didn’t get a chance to respond before she had directed her attention towards you.

“You’re here!” she offered a smile, more cheerful than usual. You weren’t sure if it was because of the party or because she was spending so much time with Akutagawa. “What do you think of everything? I tried my best, but the boss’s requests were a little tight. It stifled my creative vision.”

“It looks great,” you said, before acknowledging the man behind her. “I was on assignment; sorry I couldn’t be here earlier. Did you really miss me that much, Akutagawa?”

You pointedly ignored the topic of Chuuya, not willing to admit that you wondered where he was as well.

Akutagawa scowled harder, nearly throwing himself into a coughing fit. “Please. I only wanted to make sure the boss wasn’t letting you off the hook.” His dark eyes flitted around the room, checking to make sure he hadn’t missed your usual partner.

You’re not sure how he could’ve—Chuuya usually commanded a room.

“He’s not here,” you said, shrugging, before Akutagawa could ask again. “Must still be on an assignment. Chuuya’s not one to risk Mori’s wrath.”

Akutagawa’s face barely changed, though you could still sense his disbelief. “He let you go out on an assignment on your own?”

“I’m fully capable of handling things without Chuuya’s assistance.”

“Maybe,” Akutagawa said, something along the lines of a compliment. “But he’s always—”

“You’re not still fighting, are you?” Higuchi interrupted; her eyes almost soft as she watched you intrusively.

You suddenly regretted telling her anything, even if she was your closest companion.

“We’re—”

“Fighting?” Akutagawa was clearly amused by that piece of information. “Really? What a surprise. I never would’ve expected an outburst of anger from either of you. You two are such delightfully calm people.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Sure. That doesn’t mean much coming from you.”

He scowled harder, though left the conversation to Higuchi, who was much too concerned for your liking. “You don’t know for sure if he’s coming?”

“Like I said, he’ll come. Mori didn’t really make it optional.” You shrugged. “Although, I haven’t talked to him in a few days. Maybe he’s doing something outside the city.”

There was a moment of silence between the three of you before you realized what you had just said. You sighed, rubbing your eyebrow, as you prepared for further questioning.

“A few days?” Higuchi said, confused. “But how? Don’t you too live together?”

“Well, yeah. I’ve been staying at a friend’s house for a few days. Didn’t really want to be at home.”

That seemed to get even Akutagawa interested. It felt odd to you that of all people, you were chatting about your romantic life to one of the most feared men in the country, and he casually stood by, taking it in with blank eyes.

“It must have been bad, then,” Higuchi said, her voice sad.

You didn’t want her pity, and you certainly didn’t need it.

Things had just been piling up, and there had been an overwhelming amount of stress on both you and Chuuya. The fights had been more frequent because of that; the two of you throwing unkind words at one another in an attempt to quell your own nerves.

It wasn’t fair to you, and it wasn’t fair to him, either. You needed some space before the entire thing came crashing down on the two of you.

“It was a stupid argument, really,” you said. Higuchi was closer to you, and you knew that she would take your side over Chuuya’s. You didn’t want her to think poorly of him when you were both at fault. “Just the culmination of being under so much pressure on both ends. I guess we just took it out on each other.”

He’d hurt your feelings badly, but you’d said just as horrible things in return. It made you sick to think of the careless words you’d spewed three nights ago, just because Chuuya said thoughtless things.

You fought more than you liked, but the two of you were temperamental that it was bound to happen. But this was the first time that neither of you had sucked up your pride an apologized immediately after.

“Will that be the end of the Mafia’s golden couple, then?” Akutagawa said lazily, covering his mouth with another cough. “I’m surprised it lasted this long.”

“I’ve got no intention of—” you cut yourself off hastily, swallowing. Though the thought of breaking things off with Chuuya made your stomach churn and acid rise up in your throat, Akutagawa wasn’t wrong.

The Port Mafia was no place for romance. Maybe the two of you would be happier if you stopped trying to make it work.

You revised your previous statement. “If it doesn’t work out between us, then that’s that.”

Neither of them believed you.

At that moment, across the room, the double doors opened to reveal Chuuya, followed by whatever two lackeys had accompanied him on the mission.

Your stomach flipped at the sight of him, squeezing harder when he briefly met your gaze across the room. It had only been a few days that you’d be apart, but your heart ached, desperate to reach out to him.

Though, you wouldn’t; you’d let him make the first move towards an apology.

“Are you sure you’d be okay with it ending?” Higuchi was unconvinced.

You glowered, ignoring her comment.

For half of the night, you did your best to avoid Chuuya. You turned when you saw him coming towards you, made conversation every second of the evening so he wouldn’t approach you.

Of course, you weren’t safe from conversation forever. You walked over to the drink table once again, needing a refill. Chuuya hadn’t been around anywhere. Then, he was beside you, materializing before you even had a chance to move.

You knew it was him just by the sound of his footsteps, the careful inhale he took before reaching you.

“You’ve been ignoring my calls.” The words were hard, without emotions. The facts: pure and simple.

The cup was still balanced between your hands as you kept your eyes forward.

You stilled, stomach flipping with the words. It was a dangerous game, looking at Chuuya. His eyes always told you more than you wanted to know.

“You knew where I was,” you said simply. “If you really wanted to talk to me, you would’ve come.”

“Mori’s hardly given me a moment’s rest since the week started,” Chuuya said, and you could feel the start of another argument coming on. You had to quell it here and now before it got out of hand. “I thought you’d be home—”

Before you could object, Chuuya had already stopped himself and begun again.

“Doesn’t matter. I can’t let this go on for any longer. It shouldn’t have gone on for this long, as it is.”

“We can talk after the party, Chuuya,” you dismissed him. You didn’t have the patience for an emotional conversation. Not when there were so many people around.

“I want to talk now. I don’t want to spend the rest of the evening pretending that everything’s fine.”

“Everything is fine,” you said stiffly, though it was a lie to both your ears.

Chuuya was silent for a moment. You stared down at the glass, noticing the gentle shake in your hands.

“Baby,” he said softly, in that gentle tone he only used towards you. It was quiet. No one around could hear. You melted slightly, not taking another step. “Look at me, please.”

There was a sort of desperation in his words, enough vulnerability, to let you know he wasn’t joking. There were people around, and for him to be so open with you, if only just with his voice—it was unlike him.

“Why do we have to do this here?” you sighed, finally turning towards him. “Why can’t we…” Your words fell off as you looked at him, really, for the first time that evening.

His eyes were tired, the blue so much dimmer than usual. You could smell the alcohol wafting off him, and though he was as put together as normal, you knew that he was just as unhappy as you were.

You swallowed, feeling drawn back in way too easily. Against your better will, it wouldn’t take much for you to forgive him.

“I can’t go back home if you’re not there,” Chuuya said, his words serious and heartfelt. “Just talk to me.”

You considered disagreeing, being spiteful, asking what if there’s no way to fix it.

Instead, you silently took his outstretched, gloved hand, and followed him into the next room.

The music got more and more silent as you walked down the hall, hand in hand like nothing had happened at all, until you found a room that you could speak alone in.

Your eyes felt warm—you’d forgotten to feel your emotions at all the past few days, shoved them all down into a tiny part of your chest that would seal all away. You did your best to force them back down, hating that you could so easily fall apart before him.

Chuuya shut the door behind you silently, and you crossed your arms over your chest as a protective barrier.

“What is it you wanted to say?” you asked, watching as he took a few steps around the room, his dark coat swishing in the process. “You didn’t drag me out all this way just to—”

“I love you,” Chuuya said, and you stilled, releasing a shaky exhale. He was deliberate with his words; he didn’t utter them carelessly.

You felt a warmth bloom across your chest, melting the emptiness that encased your heart.

With a shiver, you forced yourself not to break down so easily. You didn’t spend three days in silence just for Chuuya to get off without a heartfelt apology.

“And I love you,” you said, just as sincerely. An argument didn’t change that simple fact. “But we can’t keep doing this to each other, Chuuya.”

He took a few steps towards you, quickly, invading your space easily. His gaze was steely and piercing and you couldn’t look away.

“Don’t.” he said, holding your hands tightly, like a beacon. “Don’t do that. I haven’t had the chance to apologize.”

Cchuuya—”

“I’m sorry,” he said, pushing the words into you, ingraining them into your very soul. “You mean the world to me. I didn’t mean all the things I said.”

“Yet you said them anyway. An apology isn’t going to just erase that. It won’t change the fact that we always seem to hurt each other when things go wrong.”

“I know,” Chuuya said softly, tracing your cheeks lovingly. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop that.”

“Come home, please. I miss you. It’s only been days and it’s so empty without you, knowing that it was all my fault you left.”

You hesitated. “It wasn’t all your fault.” You remembered the way you didn’t try to snuff out the argument early, how you kept going just for the sake of it. “I’m sorry too, Chuuya—”

“Don’t apologize. I deserved all the things you said. I was fucking cruel, and you deserve so much better than that, honey.” He pulled you into his chest, and you fell into him easily, not knowing how to resist him. “Fuck, how could I ever say anything like that to you, huh? My sweet girl.”

“Chuuya, stop it.” You said angrily, though your voice cracked as you clutched his lapels tightly, swallowing back all the emotions you didn’t want to feel. “I’m not just going to forgive you, just like that.”

He sighed, holding you close, breathing in your essence as if for the final time. “I know,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You shut your eyes tightly. “But you have to know how sorry I am. I’ll make it up to you every day.”

“You don’t—” you were two between two places. It was hard to accept that you were partially to blame too, when Chuuya’s words just kept echoing in your mind painfully. “It’s not about the argument. It was stupid anyways—"

“It wasn’t stupid if I hurt your feelings.” He rubbed his hand along your back smiling as his pressed his lips to your forehead. “I mean it, okay? Whatever you want. I’ll spend the rest of my life groveling at your feet if that’s what it takes.”

“Chuuya,” you said, and before you could help it, you were laughing into his chest, shaking your head. “I don’t need you to grovel. I know how much you care.” You looked back up at him, tracing the soft lines of his face, eternally youthful. “We just argue so easily these days.”

“Still.” He smiled down at you lovingly, his irises a bright pool. “I can always be better.”

He opened his hand, letting mistletoe float directly above you, letting it hover against the ceiling.

“What are you doing?” you asked, smiling indulgently as you craned your neck back to the ceiling.

“Brought it as a last resort,” he shrugged, leaning into you with a grin. “It would be a shame to let it go to waste.”

“What if I don’t want to kiss you,” you said, making a face. “I haven’t forgiven you yet.”

Though, really, you had. You just wanted to go home, away from the party, away from the mafia, and curl into bed with Chuuya, where you could get some rest for the first time in a week.

“You wouldn’t break a tradition, would you?” Chuuya said playfully, bumping his nose against your own.

“Fine.” Your look was challenging, and a smile graced your features. “Just this once. No one’s ever caught me under the mistletoe before.”

You finally pressed his lips against yours, letting all your worries melt away as you fell into him. He tasted like peppermint and alcohol, and you were so tired of missing him.

“Come on,” you said, pulling back before you got too carried away. “We should get back to the party.”

Chuuya slung his arm around your shoulder, pressing a kiss into your temple one last time before letting the mistletoe fall back into his palm. “Let’s just go home,” he said, smiling at you with hearts in his eyes. “Almost everyone’s already left. I’m sure the boss won’t mind.”

#chuuya x you #chuuya nakahara #bsd x reader #bsd x you #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara x you #chuuya x fem!reader #chuuya #bsd #bungo stray dogs #xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

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itsclydebitches · 4 months

Note

Cinder is a lot more sexualized then the male parts of Salem's inner circle

Like tyrian is shirtless sometimes but that does not feel as...drawn attention to, as say, the lingering shots of Cinder's butt or thighs. Or her wearing short shorts and high boots you know what I mean?

I do, anon. RWBY got a lot of attention back in the day for its anti-upskirt technology, but that doesn't give it a free pass for all the other ways you might (and it does) sexualize the cast. I've never been inclined to give RWBY too much shit in this regard because it is pulling from media with a LONG history of such designs and cinematography - it feels unfair of me to act like RWBY is uniquely responsible for such problems when I'm simultaneously willing to overlook, say, the 90's "gag" of Yusuke flipping up Keiko's skirt - but there's nevertheless a voice in the back of my mind constantly asking things like, "Why are so many of the girls fighting in heels?" and "Why are they dressed like they're going to the club and not the literal TUNDRA??" I'd kill for the whole cast, but the girls in particular, to get a re-design that focuses on fashionably compelling practicality, rather than sexy fanservice. (Though Ice Kingdom did a good job overall, particularly for Ruby.) Sure, RWBY didn't give us panty-shots, but one of the first characters we're introduced to is literally designed like a dominatrix.

If we're talking about outfits though... I'd say Emerald gets hit the worst out of Salem's minions. Yeah, Cinder is definitely sexualized in a more general sense as the tall, white (that's not a coincidence), long-legged beauty who sensually conjures fire as she prowls towards the heroes, camera focused on her hips swaying. But Emerald?

She suffers from the same problem Yang has. AKA, if your woman isn't classically beautiful (like Wiess and to a different extent Blake), or cute / child-like (Ruby, Penny), but is instead going for a sporty, comparatively masculine-esque vibe... then they've got to show a LOT of skin. RWBY makes it sexy by just denying them clothes. You're entering dangerous battles on the daily? You want to protect yourself? Too bad. The audience needs a midriff and cleavage and your whole arms to stare at. Shorten the skin-tight pants so we can see some leg too. Oh, Yang has to have long pants because she's heading into the coldest Kingdom in Remnant? Never mind that, cut a strip out to show her thigh.

"But Clyde, the girls don't need to wear armor because of aura--" then why the hell does Jaune bother wearing that heavy-ass suit? Is it weight training? Does he just think it makes him look cool? ...or does it exist in case his aura breaks and he's allowed to wear more protective gear because there are different gender expectations attached to his design? The aura argument is just a modern rehashing of the Supergirl sun argument: using made up lore to "justify" getting your women characters into skimpy outfits, despite the men rarely being held to the same standards.

Tyrian is actually an interesting exception here and if I were less tired I'd think through this argument more, but something something as the "crazy" character he's allowed more leeway in breaking those expectations. Also the open shirt shows off his scars, which likewise help sell how dangerous he is. With the exception of characters like Cinder and Nora - whose injuries are Important Character Moments the audience gets to see play out - scars are surprisingly uncommon in Remanent. Or, again, they're severely downplayed so as not to interfere with that classic beauty design (like Weiss', or even Yang who gets a perfect cut when losing her arm). So when you see a character with giant scars spanning the length of his chest, an open shirt drawing deliberate attention to them... that makes you go, "Oh shit. What's he been through to scar like that in a world where most people make it out of fights with no permanent damage?"

#rwde #rwby #mymetas #also sorry there's no readmore #tumblr won't bring it up for me :(#thanks tumblr

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hasufin · 1 year

Text

State of failure

I am currently making hardtack.

This is a mistake. The year is 2023 and there is no good reason to make hardtack. The stuff is an inherently bad idea. There is no practical use for hardtack which is not met today by a product which is superior in every way.

Hardtack existed as a solution for a particular time and application: a way to create portable calories which did not require any cooking in situ, which could be transported in almost any condition, and could be stored for years at a time with no significant detriment.

Today, we have a great many options to meet these requirements. We have MREs. Canned foods. Dehydrated foods. UHT packaging. Freeze-drying. Energy bars. Every one of these options manage to be better-tasting, more nutritious, and just overall more pleasant than hardtack.

Throughout much of history, the idea of going an extended period of time without being able to cook at all would have been ridiculous. What could your circumstances be, that you could not, just once every few days, start a fire? and if you can start a fire you can, at minimum, make waybread. Which isn’t particularly pleasant, sure, but is worlds better than hardtack.

But for a certain period of time, hardtack was indeed the solution. it’s mostly synonymous with sailor’s food, but was also a significant part of a soldier’s diet; certain forms of the stuff, known as “hard biscuit” were used even through WWII. It does have its advantages, mainly in durability. Actually, that’s pretty much it. Hardtack, if kept dry and free of insects, will last pretty much indefinitely.

What, you may wonder, is hardtack?

Well. It’s basically the worst, most basic form of bread you can imagine. It’s unleavened and as dry as possible. It consists of nothing but flour and salt, with just enough water to form into a stiff dough, then baked and dried. That’s literally it.

The hardtack above used 2 cups of whole wheat flour (plus a bit more for the working surface), about a teaspoon of salt, and somewhere between 1/2 and 5/8 of a cup of water.

I combined the salt with the flour. Note - no fat, no sweetener, no flavoring, no leavening. Then, I added half a cup of water and proceeded to knead it. And knead it. And knead it some more. It is impossible to overknead hardtack, because it’s going to be indistinguishable from masonry no matter what you do.

Now, there is some skill to this. You’re up against two competing needs. First, you must make your hardtack as dry as possible. Water is your enemy. If there is water, it could mold, or grow bacteria, or fungus.

On the other hand, you want your dough to be completely smooth. Any seam or fold in the dough will become a crack. The biscuit may break apart; some mold spore or insect could get in.

So, while I started with half a cup of water, I found that amount inadequate and added a little bit of additional water to make it work into a smoother dough. As you can see, it still wasn’t perfectly smooth but I successfully incorporated all the flour.

Once I had a terribly stiff dough, I rolled it out on a floured surface. There’s plenty of leeway here on how you can do it - some people would simply take pieces of the dough and pat them flat. Especially into the 19th century, this could be done with machinery, to make very consistent biscuits. That’s actually pretty important, since sailors and soldiers would want to be sure they were getting a fair ration.

Personally, since I have round biscuit cutters, that’s what I did. This is the style largely favored by the British, to be packed in barrels for Naval usage. Americans tended to make squares or rectangles for most efficient packing in tins. If these were being made professionally, the biscuits would then be impressed with a seal, usually indicating the company which manufactured the biscuits.

The next, and more important, part is to poke holes in the biscuits. These are not for show: they are meant to release steam when the biscuits are baked. If there are no holes, steam may accumulate in pockets, resulting in bubbles. While this might yield a moderately more pleasant hardtack - one that can be more easily broken apart - it also makes it less durable and more prone to spoilage. The holes need to be poked all the way through, which isn’t quite how most such baking is done, but there is no elegance to hardtack.

Next is baking. To be honest, hardtack is not baked. It is sterilized and dried. The simplest method is to bake the biscuits in a low oven for many hours - four is typical, but sometimes the hardtack is baked several times, or overnight. It should be baked just hot enough to assure anything in the flour is killed, and for long enough to remove almost all moisture from the biscuits.

I have opted for a compromise, in large part because I already had my dehydrator out. I baked the biscuits at 250°F for two hours, then transferred them to the dehydrator, where they are currently drying for.... well, until I decide to shut it off. Probably when I go to bed. Sadly, my dehydrator tops out at 160°F, which is 40°F too cool for proper sterilization. If it went up to 200°F, I could put the biscuits directly in there without needing the oven at all, but such was not to be.

So far, it smells surprisingly pleasant, and the one piece I have tasted confirms: it’s terribly bland, of course, lacking even the sourness of yeast. It’s also - as one could predict - quite hard, requiring prolonged dipping in tea to make it soft enough to bite. In short, the flavor is inoffensive while the texture is weaponizable.

I made this stuff knowing what it would be. I started out with the complete expectation that it would be akin to eating a roofing tile. Why do I do this?

Curiosity, I suppose. Now, sometimes I try to improve these historical recipes - I recognize the limitations under which they were made, and try to make them pleasant by adding spices and seasonings which were not available, applying techniques which would have been impractical, and adding fats and sugars which were uneconomical.

Not this recipe. You cannot improve hardtack without compromising its purpose. But I’d seen so many references to it, I knew I wanted to make it for myself, just to experience it.

I’m not going to share the stuff with my friends, though. Not anyone I want to keep as a friend, at any rate.

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shini--chan · 8 months

Note

May I request headcanons about Yandere Kaneki please?

Of course, here, have a character sheet. I got a bit carried away, since it has been so long since I wrote somthing for Tokyo Ghoul.

Yandere Character Sheet

Ken Kanaki

Trigger warnings: implied/references murder, humans are eaten, imprisonment, emotional/psychological manipulation, delusional behaviour, references to depression and suicidal ideation

Attributes - What sort of Yandere is he/she?

One of the cornerstones of Ken's yandere tendencies would be his protective urges. Few people aside from him know how dangerous and wicked the world can be. A person doesn't have to be a particularly sadistic ghoul to revel in bloodshed after all. There are so many ways you could hurt yourself.

In the beginning, he would be haunted by scenarios of all the ways harm could befall you. He would wake up from nightmares of you dying and feel his heart clench at the thought of you being wronged. Thought of how you could be harmed drives him half-insane with worry.

After his time with Agoiri Tree, these tendencies would only skyrocket. You are his Elysium, an island in a stormy sea, an oasis in the scorching desert. Do you really think he could let anything happen to you? What had once been an unbearable anxiety, uncomfortable like centipedes crawling under his skin, would morph into outright bloodlust. The harmful element would wind up as a blood splatter on the ground.

Of course, part of these protective urges would be based on how strong you are. If you're just a fragile doll, then Ken would want nothing more than to wrap you up in the finest silk and hide you away forever. If you have your own back bone of steel, then he would be relaxed enough to allow you more leeway and time outside. However, even if you are strong, even more powerful than him, then he would still feel protective over you. After all, even the most talented and effective people have weaknesses and openings, even they sometimes make stupid mistakes.

Aside from that, Ken is sweet and often very considerate. He takes note of your wishes and desires, even taking the effort to remember the little things - a book that you offhandedly mentioned that you wanted to read, how you like your coffee, the route you take to work in the morning. If you do, he doesn't even take physical notes, rather dedicating it all painstakingly to memory. That way, you would take a long time to catch onto the red flags, to how he seems a bit too dedicated, too desperate for it to be healthy.

Yes, he would be desperate and dependent. At night, he tries to tell himself that he would be happy just by watching you from afar, by ensuring your safety while remaining just another face in the crowd. He is too broken to be with you after all. But it is exactly because he is broken that he can't stay away from you. You put him at ease - your mere presence is balm to his fractured psyche and thus he would only grow more dependent on you the longer he would be a ghoul.

There would be days when he would practically be attached to you by the hip, for once ignoring all your protests and trying to drink in your presence as much as possible, as if you are some healing draught. Lie down with him, card your fingers through his hair and sooth over all his rough edges and your wish would be his command (of course, as long as it would be within reason). This is also one of the reasons why it would never be able to let you go - you’re his source of strength, the reason he clings to life instead of falling to his suicidal ideation. In a way, you’re what Rize (the figment of his imagination, that is) is to him and everything that she can’t be - supportive, yet not as harsh and biting, present and not in his head. You are something more than just a representation of one of his facets.

Though, there are still times when he is fractured, when even you aren't able to consolidate the parts of him. Then, he is rash and paranoid and so very restrictive. In some ways, he projects his mental state onto the outside world - when he is particularly fragile and conflicted, then he would see his world as endangered. When he is plagued with doubts, he second guesses your words and reads between the non-existent lines, constantly fearful that you are just putting up an act.

Entwined with that, is the way he flips between delusional and lucid. Thanks to his rather mild temper and selfless nature, he probably will have developed a somewhat normal relationship with you before his yandere tendencies would really emerge. At times he recognises that what he is doing is unhealthy and even toxic and that all the hurtful words you hurtle at him are warranted. Then there are other times when he isn’t sure of his own identity, or how the world really works. As a coping mechanism, he turns to you and ignores any misgiving you have about your relationship.

Kaneki is also very much obsessed with you. At night, he dreams about you and during the day he sees you in his inner eye. You come to mind when he imagines what true beauty is supposed to look like. Whenever his mind dares to wander, it wanders to you. His thoughts revolve around you to the point where he finds it difficult to think clearly, unless he is in a fight or you are close by. And having you in his arms is by far the more preferable option.

Cornering - How would they get you?

Ken doesn’t kidnap you. Not unless he would see that as the only option to keeping you safe. Instead, he tries to approach as he would a friend. With some luck on his side, he is his co-worker or a classmate; that way, it is expected that the two of you interact with each other as it is. Even with his character development over the course of canon, he is still clunky and shy when it comes to you. Well, if things start out as a professional relationship where he is mature and kind and helpful. However, as soon as matters would get more personal, then he would find himself floundering.

Perhaps you find his clumsiness when it comes to his emotions for you adorable, perhaps you first have to warm up to him (which he would manage to his helpfulness and persistence) but in the end, when you are together, he couldn’t be happier. It doesn’t have to be an official relationship either, it can just be you growing closer and closer, you not even being fully cognisant of the extent of your feelings, or of his for that matter.

Either way, Ken Kaneki does his best to wrap you up in a normal relationship before the going gets rough. It isn’t really his intention when the nature of your relationship starts to change; it just happens. There is this constant itch under his skin, these constructs in his mind mocking him that he’ll end up losing you. Thus, he pulls you closer and closer, drawing up all the more rules that you have to follow.

It would start with him being more prying than usual on where you are going and being all the more inquisitive on how your day went. Then it would transition to a tracker in your clothes or one your phone and locked doors at night. And it would end with you only being let out of the house with him as a chaperone or with a person that he particularly trusts.

Expectations - What do they expect of you?

Ken doesn’t have that many expectations of you, since he has a rather wide pallet of people that would check his boxes. Nevertheless, there are a few things that he looks for in a person and a few things that are absolute no-gos for him. One of those things is a strong sense of justice. He wouldn’t be able to bear a person that is psychopathic and sees other people as cattle or ants to be trod upon. After experiencing so much suffering, as well as seeing so much suffering being inflicted upon others, he requires somebody that can look at the world with kind eyes and not want to hurt others out of some sense of twisted glee. If you are an idealist that somehow wants to turn the world into a better place, then he would be all the more interested in you.

Tying into that, you better not be hedonistic. While there is nothing wrong with wanting to indulge in the few joys life has to offer, there is something off putting to him about a person that makes their life revolve around chasing pleasure and drowning in it. There is much more to life than a set of actions or experiences that make your brain release endorphins, and you not acknowledging that would just seem cowardly to him. He wouldn’t have anything against you being naive and sheltered - to him there is a difference to being that and willfully blind, or even sadistic.

Be sweet with him. He doesn’t mind a tsundere, but having to deal with a cynic (even if he is one at times) would just wear him down. At times, he just wants to put his head in your lap and have you card your hands through his hair. Surprise him with preparing coffee for when he gets home, and even if he can’t really eat the cake you bake for him, he would appreciate the sentiment. Aside from that, I can see him falling for somebody working in medicine and if you know that he is a ghoul and maybe go out of your way to smuggle out a bag of blood for him, he would be over the moon.

Besides that, he has a huge competence kink. There is just something about you being very good at something significant that warms him with pride and adoration. If you write, then he wants to read everything that you bring to paper, and lose himself in descriptions of other worlds. Good at singing and/or dancing? He has countless videos and audios on his phone. Should you dance with him, then you’ll have the privilege of seeing his cheeks flush deep red as you guide him through the motions. If you have a particular talent for something else that isn’t tied to entertainment, then he could spend hours listening to you talk about your field of expertise. He doesn’t even have to understand it to be enraptured, your passion and competence is more than enough to entice him.

Faded - Would they let go of you in any way?

You could scream and shout your throat raw at him, he would just nod along and prepare some warm milk with honey for when you’re finished with your tirade. He does his best to act unaffected, though your words are the equivalent of rubbing powdered glass over his skin. If you would continue for long or hit particularly sensitive nerves he would break down and cry. But still he would never let you go, as he would tell you. Because don’t you see, none of this is for him, it is all for you!

So no matter what you do, no matter how much what you say amplifies his self-hatred, he would keep you by his side. That being said, there are still two circumstances where he would let you go.

The first is if he comes to the conclusion that you are safer away from him rather than by his side. This would be due to you being endangered by proxy to him. The last thing he would want would be for you to die in the crossfire in a fight with the CCG or another ghoul faction, or, heavens forbid, be targeted as a means to hurt him.

The second would be him forgetting you. When Ken Kaneki becomes Haise Sasaki, he forgets you, at least when it comes to conscious memory. Though watch out! As soon as he would smell you or see you again, he would find himself drawn to you again.

Punishment - How would they proceed if you do something they disapprove of?

On average, Ken isn't big on punishments. He sees himself as your protector and guardian, and what sort of protector would he be if he can't protect you from himself? Perhaps as the Centipede he would more deliberately punish you. Else, in his mind he only takes measures to protect you, and if they are harsh, then so be it. It is clear that you are too reckless and naive and optimistic so you need a minder that isn't reluctant to make tough choices.

If you are too carefree and prone to venturing around, he'll imprison you in your shared apartment. Hanging out with people he doesn't approve of? Suddenly you are hearing stories of how they are terrible, good for nothing people. He'll lock away all the knives and anything you can hurt yourself with if you try to fight, and baby you if you self-harm. After trying to escape, he'll forbid you from watching TV or reading books, citing that your overactive imagination caused you to do something so foolhardy.

Protest will seem to fall on deaf ears. Sometimes they will but other times they'll be carefully filed away so that he can lose sleep due to them. You are always on his mind, after all, the good as well as the bad.

Reaction - How would they react to you escaping?

Panic, full blown panic. That is what he'll experience at first and the younger he is, the longer the panic attack will last. He'll dash around your shared living space, just hoping his panic is unwarrented and you just hid yourself away in one of your tantrums. His searching becomes more frantic and destructive the longer you remain undiscovered.

Eventually, he'll force himself to make a cup of coffee and sit down. Kaneki will do his best to piece together the various variables: When did you leave? What did you take with you? Which places are you most likely to run to? Are there any people from your past life that you still place a lot of trust in?

He will try his best to put himself in your shoes in order to anticipate your past, current and future choices and thus successfully track you down. Depending on which phase of his life he is currently in, there will be differences.

The shy Ken Kaneki that he is in the beginning of canon handles it like a teenage boy looking for his crush or friend. Checking social media, asking around, quietly loitering around places where he thinks you'll pop up. The Centipede is far more violent and far more desperate to get you in his grasp again, therefore the police and the CCG will find a lot of corpses, courtesy of his quest to find you again. As Haise Sasaki, he has far more resources and is calmer. In that case, he can cook up an excuse to have you very officially hunted down and dragged before him.

The end is always the same - him fussing over you like a mother hen, obsessively checking you for injuries and chiding you. After that incident, he’ll vow to keep a closer eye on you. You’ll be kept on an even shorter leash, with him being far stricter about rules and such in comparison to before your escape attempt. In his eyes, it came to you running away because he was far too lax with rules and vague about his intentions.

Turnabout - Scenario: You have the upper hand? What would be different from their usual MO?

Actually, not much world change, on the surface at least. In some ways, he wouldn’t mind you taking the steering wheel and allowing you to play the dominant partner in the relationship. If anything, being taken care of and having to relinquish control to you would be a new yet not unwelcome experience for him. At first, he would be worried and nagging, wanting to wriggle his way into being the one that takes care of you, the one that makes sacrifices yet he would slowly learn to enjoy taking the back seat. That is, of course, if the two of you would stick to being in a romantic relationship. However, don’t think he’ll allow you to get away. If anything, he might become so used to being taken care of, that he’ll not allow you to get rid of him.

On the other hand, if you become his captor and he your captee, he would have a lot of mixed feelings. In many ways, he would understand your urges to harm him and restrict his movements. After all, he had wronged you and in retrospect, he would realise that he might have been too harsh and condescending. That would make him vow to learn from his mistakes and treat you with more dignity, should he manage to turn the tables again. Because even if you would harm him, he would still continuously forgive you, because you forgive the people that you hold dear, or not?

Vengeance - What would they do in the face of competition?

Ken is insecure as it is and having a rival would only make this worse. Though it wouldn't have the intended effect of making him back off, rather it would make him all the more determined. Though, depending on which stage he is currently in, there are vast differences on how he deals with rivals.

As Ken Kaneki, the original, shy and timid Ken Kaneki, who has just become a ghoul or will soon become one, he’ll be much more shy. There is something all too tragic about the way he pines after you, in the manner a mediaeval knight would have pined after a lady of noble standing, a love that could never be mutual and fulfilled. Though, at times the depth of his passion will even spur him to action! It is surprising to everybody, even him and therefore he has a lot of plausible deniability in the case law enforcement comes knocking. It would sicken him to the core what he does to have you, and all the while he carries the heavy regrets in his heart, but it is all worth it as long as you are safe. Though, that is just when his emotions get the better of him, an absolute last resort. Else, he will try to convince you with shy words and texts in the middle of the night that your current paramour just isn’t compatible with you and that you deserve better.

As The Centipede, he is far more ruthless. After all, he does know what is best for you at the end of the day. So when he determines that the man that is currently in a relationship with you, or is bringing you flowers and chocolates every other day in an attempt to woo you, is bad for you, then the unlucky fellow must go. If he is feeling particularly frustrated and just must get the point over to you, then he waits to kill the offender right in front of you. Of course, that is if he can’t talk to you about his issues with you. Else he expects you to know that his arms are the safest to be it, and for you to reject any advances. It just might be that the one or the other is particularly pesky and persistent and needs to be taken out.

As Haise Sasaki, his plans are more complex. He has a reputation and a hell lot of resources to fall back on. As such, he tries the easy route first and foremost - talking to you. Of course, you might very well not be convinced by his word alone and then he’ll do some digging to drag the skeletons that certain person has in their closet forth. Maybe he’ll get other people to talk to you, to offhandedly mention and discuss the various flaws of his opponent with you. As much as he might want to kill his rival, he can’t make it too obvious. Perhaps that person will then be sandwiched between two warring parties and wind up as collateral damage, or be the victim of a violent crime in a far away city, or are found dead by a suicide hotspot. It takes much to get Haise to take his rival into a back alley or out into the country in order to make short work of them.

In all scenarios he feels a twinge of guilt, but does his best to stamp it out with thoughts about you - your safety, your love, your happiness, you, you, you.

Art is not mine: from Irina Vinnik and other artists

#yandere ken kaneki #yandere tokyo ghoul #yandere character sheet #x reader #yandere

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writingquestionsanswered · 4 months

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Scared to Commit to Dream Project

xuliaxuxu asked: I'm an aspiring author who has been writing for a long time but never actually committed to my dream project because it scares me. I've read a lot about structure, good character development and arcs, and how it all works, but I'm still scared of not being able to write a story I'm proud of. Do you have any tips on how to get through the outlining process and first draft without feeling so much pressure on your shoulders? And are the first steps in writing a novel where you have so many ideas but don’t know how to organise them? It’s been a lonely process since I have no writer friends to talk about these specific struggles. Thank you for your lovely work here on tumblr it has been inspiring me a whole lot!

[Ask edited for length]

If it's any reassurance, the fact that you've been teaching yourself about structure and character development puts you ahead of a lot of writers when they first start out. But it's also a bit of a double-edged sword, because that knowledge raises the bar for what you expect to be able to accomplish. And unfortunately, having the knowledge doesn't mean you can instantly apply it perfectly. You still need to practice applying that knowledge before you can get really good at it. It's sort of like this: if you wanted to get really good at hand lettering, you could watch hours and hours of videos about how to do it... you could learn about the different techniques and the lingo, etc., but that doesn't mean you'll be able to do flawless hand lettering the first time you pick up a brush marker. You'll still have to actually practice those techniques for a while to get really good at it. Writing is the exact same way. And that can be frustrating because you know what you want to accomplish, and you have the knowledge to get yourself there, you just don't have the actual skills to actually get there yet.

So, here's what I recommend... keep the dream project on the back-burner for now. You can still work on the pre-planning (because even that qualifies as practice), but in the meantime work on other projects to get the practice in. There's a little bit of sacrifice here because you should find ideas you're excited about, but you have to write them knowing they're not going to be your best work. And that's fine, because writing them doesn't mean you have to share them or publish them. You can write them and keep them on the shelf as a reminder of the work you've done along the way. You can also revisit favorite projects later to revamp them with a more practiced skill set.

Working on something you're excited about and love--but which has the leeway to be not your best work--is the absolute best way to take the pressure off yourself when outlining and getting through the first draft. Once you've done this a few times and you know you're getting the hang of it, you can revisit your dream project, and just the fact that you know what you're doing will take a ton of that pressure off. Another thing that will help once you get to that point is remembering that your outline and first draft don't have to be perfect--and they won't be. Part of the writing process is having the flexibility to change things as you go, to tweak and improve, even into the later drafts. Developmental editing wouldn't exist if your outline and first draft had to be structurally perfect. :)

As far as organizing a lot of ideas, you might find it helpful to find a story planner of some kind. These exist as web sites (Novlr), apps (Fabula), programs (Scrivener), workbooks (Outlining Your Novel Workbook by K.M. Weiland), and you can even find time for download on Etsy. You can probably also find free ones to download if you can't spend any money. If nothing else, get yourself a multi-subject notebook and divide it into sections like plot, characters, world, brainstorm and get all those ideas out into their individual sections. Even that can make a big difference.

Happy writing!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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crazycookiecrumbles · 2 years

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Idiots, Total Idiots

Masterlist

A/N: VERY MINOR S4 STRANGER THINGS SPOILERS BARELY SPOILERS THO

✨✨Reblog/ comments PLEASE i love feedback ✨✨

Pairings/Characters: Steve Harrington x Reader; Dustin Henderson; Mentions: Eddie, Nancy, Robin, Billy

Warnings: swearing, smartassery

Summary: Dustin is so exhausted by this dancing around each other you and Steve are doing, yet again, during another pressing mystery of Hawkins.

Dustin stared at Steve without blinking for far too long. It was unsettling, and Steve was fighting the urge to turn and smack Dustin in the face. Groaning, Steve finally put down his comb and glared at Dustin, “What, asshat!?”

“Okay. First of all, so rude and uncalled for,” Dustin said as he stared at Steve. “Secondly, you’ve been fixing your hair for the last ten minutes. For a library. Who the fuck fixes their hair for a library?”

Steve rolled his eyes as he put his comb away, “You said we needed information — “

“I mean, really, you’re going back to Douchelord Steve. That’s so Season 1 of you.”

“Season 1? Really? Of what?”

“Of your coming of age story, duh.”

“I was already of age — “

“Whatever,” Dustin shouted over him. “What are you doing? No one’s in the library except for that bitter old librarian who I think is upcharging my fees and —“ he paused as his eyes lit up in realization. He smiled, eyes half-lidded now as he stared at Steve with his big, cheesy grin. “Y/N’s new job is here.”

“No, it isn’t,” Steve scoffed, but Dustin saw through his lies. “How did you know?”

“I saw her after her guitar lesson with Eddie before Hellfire Club,” Dustin shrugged easily. “Still makes really good cookies, by the way. I mean, is she traumatized from the mall? Probably, but, like, who isn’t? Still, can’t believe you blew it like that.”

“I didn’t blow it! You can’t blow it if it never started.”

“Right and it never started because you wanted to practice dating and get out there in the world before settling down with Y/N. Like she’d even want to settle down with you, which is bold, by the way. I mean, maybe before, but now? Definitely not.”

Steve groaned, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly to help him keep from strangling Dustin, “What, she too busy with Eddie Munson?” He asked, venom dripping when he said his name.

“Oh, my god, you’re so sad,” Dustin laughed in his face. “Dude. Get over yourself.”

“I’m totally over everything!”

“It’s guitar lessons you fucking freak, not sex lessons!”

“Ew, Dustin. Don’t talk about her like that — “

“She was my god damn babysitter, I get more leeway here!” Dustin scoffed and threw his hands up in the air. “Look, man. They’re just friends — “

“Why does she even need guitar lessons? Like, for what, you know —“

“Believe it or not, hobbies exist, you hair-obsessed freak,” Dustin replied. “Dude, they’re just friends —“

“You know who else she was just friends with? Billy.”

“Here we go fucking go,” Dustin leaned back in his seat while Steve bolted up and now had hands out in front of him as he spoke animatedly about your past.

“She and Billy were just friends! Billy! You know, the guy that tried to kick my ass?”

“He did kick your ass,” Dustin mumbled.

“No! I had him on the ropes, everyone knows it,” Steve replied. “But, right, yeah, her and Billy are totally just friends.”

Dustin took off his hat, looked up, begged Thor to give him strength, then scratched his head before putting his hat back on. He turned to Steve and grabbed his shoulders, “Dipshit, she tutored Billy, and that didn’t even last long. She tutored him a few times because his dad was threatening to beat his ass over his grades, and that was that. She didn’t even like him that way. And, I don’t know if you remember, but Billy kind of, oh, I don’t know, kidnapped her with the intent of feeding her to the Mind Flayer.”

“Okay—“

“And immediately she was all, ‘is Steve okay?’” he mimicked in a high-pitched voice, “Because she knew Billy hated you and she was worried about you, as told to me by Will, who also thinks you two are stupid for each other.”

“Can it, Henderson —“

“So, really, you two idiots have just been dancing around each other the entire time and wasting everybody’s breath because we keep saying you two should be together and you’re being stupid and she’s being stupid and you’re both stupid!”

“Eloquent. Are you done?”

Dustin thought for a moment before nodding, “Yes, I am. You talk to your not-girlfriend, and I’ll look for clues. I thought Nancy and Robin were doing this. Why are we—“ he stared at Steve who cleared his throat and looked down. “You are the biggest waste of resources, Harrington.”

“What!”

“We could be doing other things — “

“Oh, whatever,” Steve got out of the car and slammed the door shut. Dustin followed behind him, muttering that he was wasting precious, valuable time and energy over nothing because he wasn’t going to have the balls to talk to you, anyway.

Steve looked for you, of course, instead of asking anyone who worked there where they could find you. After wandering around, wasting time, avoiding Nancy and Robin and hiding from Dustin’s prying eyes, he finally found you. You were in the fiction section organizing Stephen King books and humming to yourself. Steve slowly made his way towards you, standing behind you and staring down, watching as you picked up the books from the floor, reorganized them quickly, and stood back up to place them on the shelf as they should be.

Turning around, you saw Steve staring at you and jumped. You started to shriek, which scared the life out of Steve who quickly looked around as he covered your mouth and pressed you against the bookshelf.

“Jesus, Y/N!” Steve whispered loudly. “You’re going to get us in trouble here. People are going to think I’m some sort of weird pervert.”

You lowered his hand and clutched your chest, “Aren’t you? Jeez, Steve, you gave me heart attack.”

“Sorry about that —“

“What are you doing here?” You asked, as you came down from your fright and looked around to see if anyone else had followed your cries to the aisle you were in. “Shouldn’t you be at work or on another date?”

He grinned, “You follow my dates, Y/N?”

You rolled your eyes, “As if, Harrington. You know people talk when you’re the slut of the town. Anyway, what do you want?”

Ouch. Slut of the town? Was that how lowly you thought of Steve? Okay. So it may have been the truth at the moment, but still! He didn’t sleep with everyone, he just went on a bunch of dates…and stuff.

Steve floundered for a moment. He could hit on you right now, ask you out on a date, leave you alone after that, but that would defeat the true purpose of being there.

Steve didn’t come to the library because he thought you could help them do research — even if it was true and that you were smart and capable of doing so, but, no. Steve didn’t want that from you. The truth was, Steve was worried. The second something fishy started happening around Hawkins for the millionth time, his first thought was you. Last time something happened, you two were separated the entire time. You had been kidnapped by Billy of all disgusting people — okay, he was possessed, but it still counts — and he wasn’t there for you. Steve wasn’t there to be your knight in shining armor, the kids were. Steve wasn’t there to keep you safe from harm. Steve wasn’t there to kick Billy’s ass for you. Steve was hopelessly and utterly helpless to keep you safe.

He couldn’t repeat that.

“It’s happening again,” Steve said quietly, head tilted down as he spoke to you. He found it hard to hold eye contact with you, because if he did, he was just going to blurt out his feelings for you. Instead, he kept his eyes on the choker you were wearing so he could keep his focus. “There was —“

“The high schooler, yeah, I heard, “You nodded once. “I thought —“

Steve shook his head, “It’s weird again, Y/N. And I just want to make sure you —“

“I don’t want to be involved, Steve. First couple of times, whatever. But after last —“

“I know,” Steve nodded quickly and grabbed your hands, holding them up and giving them a squeeze. “Trust me, I know. You deserve to be totally normal in your totally normal and not-at-all-boring job — “

“Wow — “

“ — but I would feel so much better if you were with us. I know you don’t want to be in this, but I’d feel so much better if I could keep an eye on you, rather than worry about something happening to you and I’m not there to keep you safe. Just….just let me try to keep you safe, Y/N.”

Your cheeks were burning. Steve Harrington, Grade A idiot with a heart growing to be one of gold, coming over to your place of work and saying how he wanted to keep you safe during all of this. It was sweet. It made you wonder where this was coming from. Was it from your new friendship with Steve that started when he got sucked into the drama with Dustin’s friends a little while back, or was it from the other place of shared, lingering glances, touches, and running to each other the second you saw one another during these life-changing events?”

“Steve —“

Dustin, of course, with his impeccable timing, showed up right beside the two of you. “Are you two going to kiss and get it over with so we can get the fuck out of here?”

Narrowing your eyes, you cast one look at Dustin. His own eyes widened as he quietly nodded to himself, turned, and walked out of the aisle to give you two some privacy.

Steve stared in awe, “You have to teach me that.”

“Sorry, it’s a gift,” you chuckled softly and looked up at Steve. “I’m not gonna lie, Steve. I’m really scared this time around. Things just keep getting worse.”

Steve nodded, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders, “I know, but we’ll be together, we’ll keep an eye on each other. Okay?”

Nodding slowly, you finally agreed to go with him. “Okay. I trust you.”

“Great — “

“So you want to kiss me, Harrington?”

Now was Steve’s turn to be flushed. He chuckled nervously, hand coming up to run through his hair as he looked down at you and bit his bottom lip.

Before he could speak, you did, “Is it going to be that same kiss you’ve given all your latest conquests, Sluttington?”

Steve shook his head as he stared at you and saw the mischief twinkling in your eyes, “When I kiss you, Y/N, it’ll be unlike any kiss you’ve ever had.”

“I’m concerned.”

“Don’t be. It’s not concerning at all,” Steve said as he leaned in close, lips ghosting over yours, “It’ll be mind-blowing.” He stood up tall again, took your hand, and started leading you down the aisle, “Now, come on. We’ve got a mystery to solve.”

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #one-shot #stranger things fic #dustin henderson #eddie munson #billy stranger things #billy hargrove

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volterran-wine · 3 months

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Hello! I was wondering if you could explain in some detail about how the cloak coloring system works in your world building. What do the shades mean? How many shades are there? Who is wearing what color cloak? How you can 'rise up', etc etc. You do such a lovely job on detailing this interesting governing system and I think your idea on how the cloaks work would really come to life with your thoughts 🩷🩷 thank you and as always take care of yourself

• — 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢 & 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐤𝐬

Thank you so much for your question sweet Anonymous, and you are correct about my worldbuilding being different from canon. For I do not think it would be wise or practical to create a strict system the way canon presents.

For me it makes no sense that the leaders would intentionally create a pecking order that can threaten the peace among the guards. Uniforms are created to foster unity, if everyone received a cloak that represented their worth it would just be pure chaos.

So, I only imagine there are three shades of the cloak, and it all comes down to what group you belong in.

Black cloaks, with gold & silver details: The Royals are the only ones permitted to wear black cloaks during official Volturi business. They allow themselves some leeway in how they look and function, but they do emulate the guard. Their Volturi Pendants are often custom made and unique, they are cast in pure gold.

Dark grey cloaks, with gold details: The Higher Guard wear these cloaks, signifying their more permanent fixtures within the guard. They are allowed some leeway in how they look and function, but they have to look uniform. Their Volturi Pendants are of a more intricate design than the transitionary guard and they are cast in gold-plated silver. Often these guards are gifted or have served Teh Volturi for an extensive amount of years.

Light grey cloaks, with silver details: The Transitionary Guard always wear the lightest colour to signify their placement within the structure. Their Volturi Pendants are also a far more simpler design than the higher guard and royals, they are cast in silver.

In short; if you are not a permanent fixture within The Volturi structure you wear the lightest shade, and the more permanent of a member you are; the darker the cloak.

I do believe there is a way for the transitionary guard to elevate themselves to the dark grey cloaks, but they would have to serve for centuries to reach that status. Felix is a great example of this in my opinion, and within my worldbuilding Santiago is well on his way to earning a dark grey cloak as well.

#Volturi Questionnaire #Volturi Employment

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lyralit · 2 years

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Hello, apologies if you've gotten this type of ask before but my brain is coming up with new ideas all the time. However, I must have started about five different stories but then can't seem to commit to or continue them even though I really want to. Any tips?

ꜱᴛᴀʏɪɴɢ ꜰᴀɪᴛʜꜰᴜʟ ᴛᴏ ᴡɪᴘꜱ

make an outline. an idea of where to go can be very useful--though it works differently for different people, of course.

reward yourself! ten pages? 10k words? one page, after a difficult break? treat yourself. give yourself bigger prizes for bigger goals.

use NaNoWriMo. really for people who won't crash and burn under pressure (ahem, me), but it can be useful to pace yourself and make sure you continue to write consistently.

alternatively, set a deadline with little leeway you *know* you can get done, if you practice enough.

take a break and get back to it! it's always easier to write when your characters and ideas are fresh.

veer way off the outline. you know where you need to go next: now write something that you have fun writing, advancing your story while still collecting words.

write a scene that happens a lot later but you've been itching to write. keep doing this and gradually piece them together.

get someone to read and revise! they can help you gently push your way back on track.

rewrite it all from memory.

go back and edit.

do a fifteen-minute writing sprint, writing down absolutely whatever—ignoring grammar, sense, and convention—and edit it heavily after.

reread the books or rewatch the movies that inspired your wip.

get into the world and try understanding your characters more in depth, and try to let them steer the path instead of you remaining stuck in one place.

do a fifteen-minute brain dump. every prompt, every wip, every idea you can think of on one page. then fine-tune it, meld them together, see what pieces fit into a singular cohesive story.

adapt your wip to match the new ideas.

#writing tips #writer's block #writerblr #lyralit #creative writing #writers #writblr #writing #writers block #writing ideas #writing prompts #writing anon #lovely person <3

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tossawary · 1 year

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,,,,servant to a different king led me down a rabbithole into your forced marriage au and now I’m fucking losing it one both of them. Servant to a different king so far sounds very,,, hey share the weight except SQH has no one to keep him with the sect which sounds so very lonely. Did SQH not try to change YQY and SQQ’s fates while he had the chance to in Freeform mode? Or is this ability to do as he pleases to try and change the world a mew development? Or is this a world where SQH leaves the sect IN SPITE of all the people there who care for him?

Ah, in my opinion, whether or not Airplane Bro had the ability to change anything for Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu is largely up the fanfiction author in question. I believe he can accomplish quite a lot when he puts his mind to it! But it's not unreasonable that he simply had no leeway as a young disiciple or that the System wouldn't allow it. Or that he simply didn't know where to find them or what the timeline was! If he never gave the peak lords exact ages or never specified the year anything happened, I think that it's perfectly realistic that Airplane Bro could have honestly missed all of Qijiu's important beats just by not knowing that they were happening by virtue of not having met them yet. I think Yue Qingyuan is already the head disiciple of Qiong Ding while Shang Qinghua is still an outer disiciple of An Ding, so you could even decide to go with an interpretation where Shang Qinghua is supposed to be younger than Qijiu.

In canon, Airplane Bro just wasn't close with either of them, and that's reasonable. I wouldn't expect him to risk his life or his place at the sect for strangers. It seems that he had a preexisting relationship with Wei Qingwei before his promotion to inner disciple, but even that seems to put them at friendly acquaintances at best. I tend to think of the peak lords in their disciple days as having a "adults put us in the same room together because they think being similar ages automatically makes us friends" thing at the beginning, given how Shang Qinghua's mission with Shen Jiu and Liu Qingge went.

So, yeah, Shang Qinghua just doesn't have any significant relationships at Cang Qiong in the "servant to a different king" AU and the forced marriage AU. Airplane Bro is pretty irreverent about any potential loneliness in canon, honestly. I personally find it pretty interesting just how easily both Airplane Bro and Shen Yuan write off any possibility of romantic or even sexual relationships, out of practicality as much as an apparent lack of partners, and neither of them seem particularly torn up about it until forced to their peculiar breaking points. Shen Yuan at least seems amendable to friends, but I think this absence of deeper relationships is part of why Cucumberplane clicks the way that they do. I think this is why Shen Yuan mistakes the familiarity that exists between them due to their backgrounds for a deeper friendship than they actually have.

I'm maybe getting off track again? My point is that I have written a lot of fluffy Airplane Bro fic where he's forced to care about people, but that's appealing in part to me because he's an asshole! He doesn't really care about other people except Mobei-Jun and sometimes Shen Yuan. In SVSSS canon, I don't think it's unreasonable to label Shang Qinghua as a villain who just so happens to be on Shen Yuan's side sometimes? He and Mobei-Jun could have been a villainous power couple if they had gotten their shit together any earlier! In my AUs where Shang Qinghua ditches Cang Qiong for the Demon Realm earlier, it's kind of a "sorry not sorry" situation. He's quitting before he can be fired or executed. He's making rude gestures on the way out the door. He's probably telling Qijiu the truth about their misunderstanding in front of a crowd in order to cover his escape or maybe because he wants to cause drama. So long, suckers!

#soyoudneverguess #ask tossawary #tossawary svsss #shang qinghua #shen yuan #cucumberplane #servant to a different king au #moshang forced marriage au #yue qingyuan #shen jiu #hey share the weight #fic ideas

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disneyanddisneyships · 5 months

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@gyubby99

The Prophecy Of Imortal Fire 3

"You what?!" Elias practically yelled. "He Stabbed me!" "Yeah like 10 years ago! Give or take! Why would he lie now?! Listen, I've met his father. Not a nice guy, and not easy to beat in a fight. Even if Alistar was doing this for his father, he wouldn't have any chance against him in combat!" Ella argued. "Ella... he almost killed you! He kidnapped children, and your father.... he killed me for a hot second! He called you names, gave you trauma, hurt you! Broke you! How can you trust that?" Elias asked. "I don't! I don't trust him as far as I can throw him, but right now we don't have a choice!" Ella answered. Eli looked over at Alistar, glaring before his eyes softened. He sighed. "Fine. He can't wield a sword with a broken arm anyways," he muttered. "Youd.. be surprised...." Alistar replied, earning some looks from the group. "Oh.. god, no! I learned my lesson! Besides i-...." alistar trailed off as he glanced at Ella and Eli's kids in the other room. "I wouldn't take a parent from their kids," he muttered. "No, but you'd take a kid from her parents," Loreley spat. "... I'm sorry," Alistar spoke. Eli scoffed. "Dont say it to us," he muttered, glancing at Ella. Alistar looked down, embarrassed. Eli rolled his eyes. "Coward," he muttered before walking out of the building. Everyone followed. Except for Ella. Ella hesitated. "We were friends you know...." she stated. ".. I know," Alistar replied. "What in the world happened to you after we stopped contacting one another that day?" Ella asked. "Too much to fit into one conversation....." He whispered before looking at her. "I'm sorry. What I did was selfish, and wrong, and shitty. You didn't deserve that.... and fucking hell you are NOT fat. You never have been. And if I could go back in time, calling you that would be the first thing I changed," Alistar ranted. Ella kept a distance between the two. "I did what I did because I was in love with you....but my father taught me that love was weak.... and seeing you choose someone over me... broke me... and it reinstated the fact that love was weakness.... so I thought I could marry you by force..... but i..... I shouldn't have thought that," Alistar stated, tears brimming his eyes again. "Alistar.. I wasn't in love with you. You were my friend.... how could you have possibly thought that doing what you did would change that?" Ella asked, crossing her arms. "I don't know," his voice cracked. "I don't know what I was thinking.... I just made choices and i...... God I regret every single one," Alistar muttered. "I'm not gonna ask for your forgiveness.. cause I realize its too late.... but please.... don't let my mistakes create a leeway for my father to come in and Destroy the life You've built," Alistar stated. Ella stood there for a few moments before walking closer to him and hugging him. "I can't forgive what youve done.... not yet at least..... but.... I believe in the fact that you're telling the truth," Ella sighed. Alistar let out a breath. "Thank you...... I'm so so sorry.... I-I didnt..... I shouldn't've..... I'm sorry," he all but whispered as he tried not to cry.

........ The group as a whole stood in the dining area, a giant map on the table. "So if we can destroy his forces from the inside, we can possibly win... but how are we gonna get in?" Loreley asked. "Theres a passageway through the dungeons. I found it when I was 10 when he locked me in my cell after breaking a vase. I made it myself from a small hole in the wall," Alistar replied, pointing the area out to the group. Mia glanced at him. "How many times did he put you down there for you to make an entire crawlspace?" She asked. Alistar raised an eyebrow as he calculated. "Uh.... maybe 5 times a week. 2 if I stayed out of trouble," He answered. The group looked at him. ".. what?" He asked. "Okay, so we'll go through there. Do you have armor?" Ella asked, turning to alistar. "No. Just this," he stated as he gestured to his shirt and pants. "Hm okay. Elias will fir you for some armor later," Ella stated. "What so he can stab me with it?" Eli asked. "Elias," Ella scolded. Eli sighed. "Fine. We'll do it now so I can get it over with. Cmon," Alistar gulped as he followed Eli outside.

"Lose the shirt," Eli stated as he picked up some already made armor. "P-pardon?" Alistar asked. "The armor won't fit right if your measurements aren't correct and your shirt is too baggy," Elias stated, an unamused look on his face. "O-okay but can't we just-" "Oh my god do you want me to help or not?" Eli asked, clearly frustrated. Alistar sighed. Eli rolled his eyes, turning to grab a measuring stick. His eyes widened at the sight of all the scared on Alistar's back and chest, blending into smaller ones on his arms. "Woah.... what... happened?" Eli asked, almost forgetting what alistar did. Almost. Alistar sighed as he hung his shirt over a chair in the hut. "After my mom died, my dad thought waking me up by having people whip me was a wonderful idea... and when he and I dueled, he would stab me," Alistar replied. Elias' eyebrows furrowed. "You're really messed up, aren't you?" Eli asked. Alistar chuckled. "Yeah... I am...." Eli gave a small genuine smile before walking to work on Alistar's armor.

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philosopherking1887 · 1 year

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Re: Capitalism vs Calvinism (you make a solid point, btw), do you have any thoughts on why the two are conflated as much as they are?

For context, here is the post that this is about.

There are sort of two ways to answer that question:

Why is it natural or tempting to conflate capitalism and Calvinism? That is, what are people getting right when they do this?

Why do people make the mistake of conflating capitalism and Calvinism -- what leads them to get it wrong?

The answer to the first question is pretty obviously that the culture of capitalism in northwestern Europe was strongly conditioned by the culture of Calvinism. They grew up at the same time, intertwined with each other. The Commercial Revolution, people other than Jews (and much more numerous) who were allowed to charge interest on loans (which Catholics couldn't), etc. It also has to do with the Calvinist doctrine of predestination and how people's success and industriousness in the world were taken to be signs of God's favor -- not that you could earn it, because God's grace is given by His free will alone, but it was supposed to be an indication that God liked you and was allowing you to be virtuous (which you couldn't claim credit for on your own).

The ideology we think of as capitalist, about how people are naturally lazy and selfish and need to be manipulated with the right incentives into serving the public good, is originally Calvinist: it views human nature as irretrievably fallen without God's special grace (as I learned in a very interesting talk on Hobbes recently). You can't teach people to be truly good, to recognize the good and desire it for its own sake (as Catholic theologians thought you could, even though fallen human nature made that difficult); all you can do is set things up so that it's in their interests to do the things you (the community leader/ ruling authority) want them to do. @squeeful's tags on the instigating post nicely sum up this pessimistic view about human nature: #it's a viewpoint that people are inherently flawed #not in like a human way #but in a 'if given free time they will Sin'

So, given that people will Sin if you give them any leeway at all, you have to make sure you're taking up all their time with Something Productive. If they're working all the time, they won't have time to sin; if they're always thinking about work, they won't have mental space to think about sinning (which is just as bad as sinning, according to the Calvinist worldview); if they're "wholesomely" exhausted from work, they won't have the energy or inclination to sin. But of course people are naturally lazy and hate working, so how do you make them do this? Make it in their interests! Reward them with wealth and praise if they work all the time! Punish them with starvation and shame if they don't! The culture and worldview of capitalism follow from the culture and worldview of Calvinism.

OK, so, what about the second question? Why do people attribute this crap to capitalism alone rather than tracing it back to its deeper origin in Calvinism? Well, probably because capitalism is blatantly all around us, while Calvinist theology isn't -- at least, not obviously. We don't have stern bearded guys preaching at us about how God finds us loathsome and repulsive and it's only by His infinite grace and mercy that any of us are saved from the eternal torments of Hell that our degraded, sinful nature so richly deserves. Calvinism has been pretty thoroughly secularized in our daily experience, to the extent that we might think we're not religious at all, even when our mindset is profoundly shaped by religious ways of thinking.

But what I wanted to get across is that the dependency is asymmetric, not just in the sense that Calvinism came first and modern capitalism as we know it developed later, but in the sense that Calvinism could have given rise to systems and practices other than capitalism (and sometimes does), while capitalism as we know it (probably) couldn't have developed without the underpinnings of the Calvinist worldview. That's why you can see the Calvinist way of thinking even in anti-capitalist Social Justice movements, especially in the US, whose dominant culture has been profoundly shaped by Calvinism (from the English Puritans, the Dutch, and some proportion of early German immigrants). That is, you still get the view that people, or certain kinds of people, are inherently sinful (racist, sexist, homophobic, bourgeois, etc.); that the only way to not be contributing to evil forms of oppression is to be actively working against them at all times, including purifying your mind of all oppressive, bourgeois ways of thinking; and that even your moments of rest, idleness, and pleasure have to be justified in terms of the aims of work: your 'self-care' is so that you're refreshed to keep working more effectively for liberation, or else you're taking your joy in defiance of the systems that want you to be miserable, so it counts as its own form of resistance. And these subcultures, like OG Calvinism and its capitalist offspring, also rely heavily on the mechanism of shame to get people to be constantly policing their thoughts, words, and actions, ever-vigilant lest someone catch them Sinning. After all, people are sinful, so you can't rely on their natural inclination toward the good; you need to leverage their impure desire for acceptance and the good opinion of others.

(Figuring out how this cultural strain relates to the neo-Rousseauian "humans are Good, only the corruption of capitalism makes them evil" ideology in the online Left would be a further project... I suspect there's a tension between the official line and the way people actually think and behave subconsciously; and I also suspect there may be a bifurcation between the groups of people who are regarded as Fallen, on the Calvinist model, and those who are taken to represent the prelapsarian naturally good state of being.)

#calvinism #capitalism #social justice #philosophy #religion #cultural commentary

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relaxxattack · 1 year

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i am a little confused on the homestuck quadrants i think they're called? you know, the ones with the card symbols, could you explain those?

BOY COULD I !!!!!!!!! ( <- has a special interest in this and is vibrating at the speed of light )

alright, so, first of all there's four of them. one for each card symbol.

humans use the heart symbol for our romance (♥) but since troll romance is so much more complicated, they use four symbols. hence where the card deck comes from.

i'm going to try to explain this as simply as possible when it's really incredibly complicated stuff- i mean, human romance is the same and there's only one of it- so just bear with me here, haha.

matespritship ♥

when a troll feels flushed towards someone, and dates them in the flushed quadrant, that's their matesprit. this quadrant is one of the physical/reproductive ones, and it's based on positive emotions (pity). it's similar to human romance, i would say, although possibly with less emotional leeway.

pretty easy, so let's move on.

kismesissitude ♠

this is the pitch quadrant, your pitch partner is called your kismesis. this one is also a physical/reproductive quadrant, but instead of being about positive emotions (pity) it's based on negative ones (hate).

this is someone that you hate so much you want to be in a relationship with them about it. in better terms, they're your rival. the person you are driven to challenge and fight, and always be better than.

the partners in this relationship must be equal and hate each other equally, otherwise there's no point. because if they aren't equal how are they challenging or fighting one another? they must also respect each other and actually want to better each other, for similar reasons.

here's a quote from karkat i really like about the respect you have to feel towards your kismesis to properly challenge and hate each other:

*alt text in image. full quote: x

pitch romance is important to trolls, and it's not just about fucking someone you hate like people generally like to assume.

moirallegiance ♦

a troll's pale partner is also called their moirail. this is the first of the non-reproductive relationships. although some people might tell you this is like a platonic best friendship, that is false. a moirallegiance is a romance. and it's a very important one in troll society- in fact it is practically a job!

the purpose of a moirail is to protect a dangerous troll from themselves and others. this means to tend to them emotionally, to guard their heart, to watch out for their other relationships. you know everything about this troll, you help with their mental issues and their place in the world. the main focus of this is to calm them down, usually, as many trolls have rage issues.

moirails will often be closer to each other than other quadrants, and build nest-like piles together to canoodle in while they talk about their feelings. it's all very intimate, really.

*alt text in image. full quote: x

(canon will tell you that dangerous, violent trolls are always palemates with even-tempered, "good" trolls who tend them. but i personally don't believe this to be true. a moiraillegiance, like any relationship, gives both partners benefits if it lasts. for example, you may assume nepeta simply calms equius, but there's plenty of evidence that he does his best to protect her in different ways too.)

auspisticism ♣

an ashen mediator, or an auspistice, is a facilitator between a pair of trolls who feel themselves starting to hate each other. the point of this auspistice, or middle leaf, is to foster communication and calm down both parties at once, to stop them from letting their annoyance towards each other develop into an actual pitch relationship. this is also one of the non-reproductive relationships.

usually this is because it would interfere with another relationship or friendgroup as a whole, possibly by causing pitch infidelity.

this is probably the most confusingly defined troll romantic relationship, and definitely the most underrated. it would be nice to know more about it.

in the end, we have these four types of romantic relationship.

the top two, or the red romances, are the ones that are based on positive pity.

the lower two, or the black romances, are based on negative emotions, hate.

the left two are concupiscent- aka dealing with sexual reproduction. the right two are conciliatory, aka dealing with calming someone else down.

that's the simplest way i can put troll romance. i hope it makes sense? feel free to ask me any questions :]

#troll romance #homestuck #matesprits #kismesis #moirails #auspistice #hsmeta #my meta #long post #kk helped with this post but i also made sure i only used things from canon #quadrants

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