#2 (#1) (V-Day Edition)

😂😂

Got featured again!

facts

I am X, god of all evil NPCs.

😈😈😈😈

I am Arran, god of the most important thing

EDIT: if y'all don’t wanna use your name use your username

There are parents who got stuck in the "denial" stage and couldn't face their kids and accept.

I really hate it when parents of autistic kids use phrases like “I know they’re in there.” Bitch they’re right in front of you! You haven’t lost them! They’re not locked away like a final boss in a video game!! This is your child As Is! Love them for who they are not what you wish they would be! Fuck!

Shattered Bonds

Fandom: Samurai Love Ballad Party

Character: Inuchiyo

Summary:  His heartache came from the fact that he didn't ask for this upcoming war to happen; and yet, just because two of his most important persons decided one cannot live with another under the same sky, he found himself forced to choose sides and fight against his former friend.

Slightly based ON REAL HISTORY. How this young lord must have felt when he found HIMSELF on the other side of war against his close friend. One-shot (possibly out of many).

Also posted on my AO3.

Little pieces of white fell down from the blackened skies as the overcast clouds suppressed the dignified fortress atop a mountain. The wind blew its coldest as anxious servants within the stronghold struggle to make fire, soldiers rummaging through the stocks for extra blankets, and scouts braving the intense cold to look for signs of enemy ambush, or infiltration beyond its walls.

Or signs of invasion from their former allies.

At least, this is what the young lord of the castle (who is inside the war council room alone at the moment) wanted to think with regards to their "enemy"—a belief that is shared by the majority of his people. The lord may be young, but if there is any indication, the dark circles around his eyes suggest he had aged a lot from all the stress. A jar of sake was placed on the table, beside it were two cups: one for the man himself, the other was for the special somebody the man had all but lost thanks to this conflict. Filling the second cup was his usual habit whenever he and his friend would meet up for drinks in the past, and now, as an homage for his absent friend. It was meant to calm him, help him relax a little; obviously, it didn't work.

His heartache came from the fact that he didn't ask for this upcoming war to happen; and yet, just because two of his most important persons decided one cannot live with another under the same sky, he found himself forced to choose sides and fight against his former friend. If it were up to him, he would have stormed towards his dear partner on that fateful day, and beat the crap out of him for his crazy plan of following THEIR LATE LORD'S dream—and hope it will be just that. But no... his friend had coldly shrugged him off, as if his words are nothing and proceeded to leave without saying anything to him, he didn't even look at him in the eye! That usual smugness of his had always made the young lord's blood boil, but that day, he feared he had crossed the line, a point of no return.

So, now that the conflict has escalated, the young lord remembered that he had volunteered to lead the front and fight the good fight, hoping the prodigal himself will somehow turn back after a few defeats. Unfortunately, he got stonewalled by his superiors, given his ties to their supposed "traitor". There were no words just how angry he had been, angry at the people he and his departed friend were supposed to protect. Angry at his friend for not trusting HIM enough. Angry at himself for not knowing just how bad things had gone after their lord died on that tragic fire. Angry that he was forced to station at the rear by those scheming bastards who may or may not have designs for him and his clan. The bad memories only made the lord bit his lip and clench his sake cup hard until whites from his knuckles had formed.

It wasn't easy for the young lord to handle things at the rear, even though they were far from the actual fighting. A while ago, he had a fight with a vassal, whom he secretly knew as a spy from the old guards who had stonewalled him. Logistics had said that their supplies are barely enough to last for a month, a grave matter. The vassal in question had strongly suggested to scour nearby villages for food, water and heat by pillaging them. This was, of course, met with gasps and indignation from the young lord's loyalists but couldn't openly complain due to the vassal's backing.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how one sees this incident), the young lord refused the vassal's advice and even reprimanded him without regard of the political ramifications. To say things became chaotic is an utter understatement and the lord was at wits end during the ordeal. In the end, the vassal and his army left, leaving the castle almost defenseless and short of manpower at the present.

Frustration and a lingering sense of fear loom over this lord's heart as he sat inside the room, alone, waiting for someone from the shadows. There are a lot of things in this man's mind, questioning his own capacity as a leader. Was he wrong to refuse that vassal? Was he right to separate his own army from his? Hard questions poured into his mind as lines between right and wrong blur in every passing moment.

And the fact that all the tension from the upcoming battle and worsening weather got him at this breaking point...it is terrifying how much more burden he could take, before everything else snaps; before he himself become a cold heartless monster, all because of this wretched war.

He gulped down his sake and closed his eyes to find himself some semblance of peace, some form of control over the looming rage within his heart. The hearthfire failed to ease his foul mood and the silence only serves as a reminder of how poor morale is at the moment.

The castle lord stood up, his family sigil evident from his blue-black silk kimono. He made his way to the armory, passing through the wintery cold of the outdoors, checking on his soldiers, pages and servants along the way.

Once alone in the armory, he made his way towards his ornate spear, gently touching as if trying to recall a happier memory in order to keep himself sane. Lost in his own thoughts, he recalled his past as a young boy learning to wield his weapon. The time when he was still naive from the hard truths of war.

One sunny day, he had once held a practice spear in the middle of a match. Cheers of encouragement and jeers by the audience had filled the air. Old war veterans on the sidelines had looked thoughtfully at him and his opponent, assessing their strengths.

Across him had been another boy whose hair was a soft brown. His eyes were like clear brown sugar candies. His height couldn't match his own and his practice katana had been too small, but despite the obvious disadvantage, his opponent had given him a familiar lopsided grin; as if he knew how to turn things into his favor.

A time when both boys began as rivals, before they became best of friends, who still (ironically) fight here and there due to some simple crazy differences.

Before they became great vassals of their lord and achieved great things in their own right...

Before they inevitably became enemies after their lord had died…

Once upon a time, before he became the head of his clan and lord of this fortress, he was a rebellious boy of a prestigious samurai clan named Inuchiyo, and his enemy was his former friend, a clever peasant boy named Tokichiro.

Nobunaga: “Bring back those who have strayed from my side.”

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Seriously, this dude needs to chill . 😖

I sent a letter today - something I haven’t done for years

It’s full of plastic bread clips

It’s for Science

This Online Shopping Ad…😂😂