#He's a tragedy but there's more to a person than just who they are at their worst

[stylesispunk]

"You're the loss of my life"

outbreak! Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: you and Joel went from one kiss to getting married to becoming strangers.

w.c: 5k>

Warnings: angst, implications of cheating, mentions miscarriage. Perhaps some grammar mistakes because no proofreading oops!

a/n: I know everything I write is angst but is what it fits in my mind right now. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💌

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

The day you killed yourself, you woke up. The salty tears streamed down to your ears. There was a pity gaze you didn't want to meet, looking down at you, perhaps asking why. 

You didn't want to talk, even less to answer the pitiful comments from people who thought they had a say on all this.

You remember the fall. You remember Joel running to Sophie to save her life instead of yours, instead of both. You and the baby who was inside you. The one who wasn't there anymore because of its tiny form didn't resist the impact of your fall.

What a tragedy.

Sadness overcame you in the aftermath. In a world like this, treating your wounded body wasn't as hard as treating your heart, which became a frozen glass shell.

The days that followed were a blur, each moment blending into the next, a never-ending cycle of grief and numbness. You avoided mirrors, hating the reflection of a person you no longer recognized. The hollow eyes, the lifeless expression—they belonged to a ghost, not to you.

Joel tried to talk to you, his words a constant hum in the background. "I'm sorry," he'd say. "I didn't know what to do." But his apologies were meaningless, lost in the chasm that had formed between you. He perhaps saved Sophie because he loved her more, because in that split second, she was the one who mattered.

Not you anymore.

You spent hours in the nursery, the room you had so carefully prepared. The crib, the tiny clothes, the stuffed animals—all mocking reminders of what could have been. Your hands would linger on the soft blankets, tears falling silently onto the fabric. It was in that room that you felt the closest to the baby you had lost—a place where the field of dreams you had died.

One night, as you sat in the dark, the pain was too much to bear, and you decided you couldn't go on. The world was too cruel, too indifferent to people's suffering. You wrote a letter, your final words, to those who might wonder why. It was brief—just a few sentences explaining the unbearable weight of your grief and the unending ache in your heart. Meeting your family and beloved ones in heaven sounded better than keeping yourself prisoner in a world that would never be a safe place for anyone.

You took the pills, each one a step closer to peace. As you drifted off, you felt a strange sense of calm, a release from the torment that had consumed you. You hoped that in death, you would find the solace that eluded you in life.

But then you woke up again. The salty tears streamed down to your ears. There was a pity gaze you didn't want to meet, looking down at you, perhaps asking why.

Waking up again felt like a cruel joke. You were back in the same world, with the same pain. But something was different. Joel was there, his eyes red and swollen from crying. He took your hand, his touch hesitant and afraid.

"I thought I lost you," he whispered, his voice breaking.

You turned away, unable to meet his gaze. The wound was still too fresh, and the betrayal was still too raw to face them.

Joel's gaze burned in your back, and the smell of death was in the room. You held your breath for a moment. You wanted to smell the flowers and the baby smell of the little head of your baby, which you would never get to meet.

"Why?" he questioned, and for the first time, his voice did soothe your wounds; instead, it caused your blood to boil inside you and irritated you.

"I want Ellie here, not you."

"Baby- “

"Go." Your voice could slice Joel’s skin.

He recoiled as if struck, his face crumpling with pain. He stood there for a moment, looking lost and broken. "Please, don't push me away," he pleaded, but you couldn't hear him through the rage and grief that consumed you.

"Leave," you repeated, your voice cold and final.

Joel's shoulders slumped in defeat. He turned and walked out, the door closing softly behind him. The silence that followed was suffocating, a void that threatened to swallow you whole. You curled into a ball, the tears flowing freely now—a torrent of pain and loss.

“Go to Sophie,” you whispered to the void, allowing yourself to cry.

Time seemed to stand still in that moment; your sobs were the only sound in the quiet room. You didn't know how long you lay there, but eventually, you heard a soft knock on the door.

Ellie's voice was hesitant when she called out your name, filled with a mix of anger and concern. "Can I come in?"

You didn't answer, but she opened the door anyway, slipping inside and closing it behind her. She looked at you, her expression torn between fury and sadness.

"Why did you do it?" she demanded, her voice shaking. "Why did you try to leave me too?"

You looked up at her, seeing the pain in her eyes and mirroring your own. "I... I didn't think I could handle it anymore," you admitted, your voice breaking. "I lost everything, Ellie. I lost you, I lost Joel, and I lost the baby. I didn't know how to go on."

Ellie walked over to you, her steps hesitant. "You didn't lose me. I'm still here," she said, her voice softening. "But you almost did. And I'm so mad at Joel. He should have saved you both. He should have done more."

“Do you think Joel doesn’t love me anymore?” you sobbed.  The pain in your voice broke Ellie’s heart.

She kneeled beside you, taking your hands in hers. "I don’t know what’s on his mind now," she admitted, her voice trembling. "But I do know he loves you. He's just... broken too. We're all broken."

You pulled her into a tight embrace, both of you crying together, sharing the weight of your grief. “I lost my baby because of him.”

Ellie held you tighter, her own tears mingling with yours. "Cry,” she said softly. "Blaming him won't bring the baby back. It won't help us heal. We have to find a way to forgive and move forward."

The two of you stayed like that for a long time, finding strange solace in each other’s arms. The pain was still there, raw and overwhelming.

You were standing in the small kitchen of your home in Jackson, the dilapidated walls a far cry from the security of the life you once knew. But for a moment, you allowed yourself to dream of something better. Your hands trembled slightly as you held the small, worn piece of paper—a positive pregnancy test, a symbol of new life in a world consumed by death.

Joel walked in, weary from a long day of patrol. His eyes lit up when he saw you, but they quickly clouded with concern as he noticed the look on your face.

"What's going on?" he asked, setting down his backpack and walking over to you.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "Joel, I have something to tell you,” you began, your voice shaking. "I'm pregnant."

For a moment, there was silence. Joel's expression shifted from confusion to shock, and then to something darker—fear and maybe even anger.

"Pregnant?" he repeated, his voice rising slightly. "In this world? How could you be so irresponsible?"

The words hit you like a physical blow, your earlier excitement and hope crumbling into dust. "Irresponsible?" you echoed, your own voice rising defensively. "It takes two people to do this, you know.”

He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "You know what it’s like out there! Every day is a fight for survival. We can barely keep ourselves alive, and now you want to bring a baby into this?”

“I know this is not the best way, but what do you want me to do?” 

“You know what.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you fought them back, unwilling to show weakness at his suggestion. "I know it's dangerous, Joel. But it's also a chance for us to have a future. To have a reason to keep going."

Joel's face softened for a moment, but then the hard lines returned. "And what if we can't protect it? What if we lose it? Bringing a baby into this world... it's a death sentence."

You turned away, unable to look at him. "I thought you'd be happy," you whispered, the tears finally spilling over. "I thought this would be something good for us."

He reached out, but you stepped back, the distance between you growing. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice softer now, but the damage was done. "I just... I can't see how this can work."

You clutched the pregnancy test to your chest, tainted by doubt and fear. “Are you mad because of the baby, or what would Sophie think of this?" you questioned quietly.

Joel's expression faltered, and he looked away, unable to meet your gaze. The mention of Sophie seemed to strike a chord, bringing a new layer of tension to the room.

"Sophie has nothing to do with this," he muttered, but the words lacked conviction.

"Doesn't she?" You pressed, your voice rising. "She's always in the back of your mind, Joel. Every decision you make, every risk you take, it's always about protecting her."

"She's my partner in patrol,” he shot back, his voice growing louder. "I’m just as protective as I am with everyone here! I can't fail her, or you. But this world... it's no place for a child."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "I know you're scared, Joel. So am I. But we can't live our lives in fear. This baby is a chance for us to have something real, something good. Don't you see that?"

Joel's shoulders slumped, the weight of your words pressing down on him. He sighed, running a hand through his hair again. "I do see it," he admitted quietly. "But it doesn't change the reality we live in. I just... I don't know if I can take that risk."

The room fell silent, the tension hanging thick in the air. You turned away from him, your heart heavy with a mixture of hope and despair. "I'm going to do everything I can to protect this baby," you said firmly, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. "With or without you."

Joel looked at you, pain and conflict warring in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something but then closed it, shaking his head. He turned and walked out, leaving you standing alone in the kitchen, your heart breaking as the small symbol of hope in your hand seemed to grow heavier by the second.

The “I do” and vows seemed so foreign in the back of your mind now.

A week had passed since your almost-death. The days were a blur of grief and small steps toward recovery. Ellie remained close; her presence was a constant reminder that there was still something worth fighting for. In your head, you felt guilt and pity, not strong enough to keep believing you were the same woman who arrived here. You were the gosh of a lively fighter who became a lifeless frame.

Maria approached you in the cafeteria, where you were trying to busy yourself. She had always been a pillar of strength in Jackson and a calming presence for you since the day you, Joel, and Ellie arrived.

"Hey," she said softly, her voice gentle. "How are you holding up?"

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to speak without breaking down. Maria sighed, pulling up a chair beside you. "I know it's hard. But you need to take things slow. You can't rush healing."

You nodded, though her words felt distant. The weight of your grief was a constant presence, making everything seem surreal. "I just... I don't know how to keep going. I don’t know how to do this again," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as Sarah’s lifeless frame came to your mind.

You had lost another child.

Maria reached out, squeezing your hand. "One day at a time," she said. "And remember, it's okay to lean on others. You don't have to do this alone."

You wanted to believe her, but the pain was too fresh and overwhelming. As the days turned into a week, you forced yourself to go through the motions, trying to find some semblance of normalcy. One afternoon, you found yourself in the cafeteria of Jackson. The noise and bustle were a stark contrast to the turmoil inside you.

Maria was there, talking to a few people, and she caught your eye, giving you an encouraging smile. You tried to smile back, but it felt forced. The weight of your loss was a constant shadow, making everything seem heavier.

As you moved through the line, Maria came over, her expression concerned. "Hey, remember what I said. Take it slow. You don't have to do everything at once."

Something inside you snapped. The pressure, the grief, the guilt—it all came crashing down. "Take it slow?" you repeated, your voice rising. "How am I supposed to take it slow when everything is falling apart? How am I supposed to keep going when I not only lost my baby but also my husband?!”

The cafeteria fell silent, all eyes turning towards you. You could feel the weight of their stares, the shock, and the pity. Your breath came in short, ragged gasps as the enormity of your outburst sank in.

Maria reached out, but you recoiled, your emotions spiraling out of control. "I don't need to take it slow!" you shouted, tears streaming down your face. "I need... I need..." You didn't even know what you needed; the pain was too overwhelming to articulate.

Joel was there in an instant, his face etched with worry. "Hey, hey," he said softly, reaching out to you. "It's okay. You're okay."

But you weren't okay. You felt like you were drowning, the weight of your grief pulling you under. You shook your head, backing away from him. "Don't touch me for fuck's sake! I don't want your dirty hands on me!”

Joel’s eyes glazed, but you didn’t care. He had become the best of the man you had married ten years ago.

Joel's eyes glazed, but you didn’t care. He had become the ghost of the man you had married ten years ago.

He froze, the words hitting him like a physical blow. The cafeteria's silence deepened, the tension thickening. You saw the pain in his eyes, a reflection of your own turmoil, but it did nothing to quell the anger and sorrow boiling inside you.

"I can't do this," you said, your voice breaking as you took a step back, your chest heaving with sobs. "I can't keep pretending that everything is going to be okay. Because it's not! Nothing is okay!"

Ellie pushed through the crowd, her face pale but determined. "Mom," she said, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. "We're here. We're all here. We'll get through this."

Joel looked helplessly at Ellie, then back at you. "Please," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Just let us help."

You looked at him, the man who had once been your rock, now just a shadow of the person you had relied on. The anger still simmered beneath the surface, but Ellie’s presence brought a flicker of something else—a reminder of why you needed to keep fighting.

Ellie wrapped her arms around you, holding you tightly as you sobbed into her shoulder. The room remained silent; the weight of your grief was palpable. But in that moment, you felt a glimmer of hope—a reminder that you weren’t alone and that you had people who loved you and who were willing to help you carry the burden.

Joel stepped closer, his hand hovering uncertainly at your back, not daring to touch you without permission. "I’m so sorry," he murmured, his voice choked with emotion. "For everything. I’m so, so sorry."

You took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady yourself. "You killed him," you snapped, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I can’t forgive you.”

Joel's face crumpled, the weight of your words hitting him like a physical blow. He took a step back, his hand dropping to his side. The silence in the room grew heavier, and the tension was palpable.

"I know," he said, his voice barely audible. "I know I can never undo what I've done. I live with that guilt every day."

Your anger burned hot and fierce, like a wildfire consuming everything in its path. "You killed him," you repeated, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "And you expect me to just forgive you? To move on like nothing happened?"

Joel shook his head, his eyes filled with sorrow. "No," he said softly. "I don't expect you to forgive me. I don't even know if I can forgive myself. But I want to try. I want to make things right as much as I can."

You looked at him, the man who had once been your partner, your confidant, now a stranger in the wreckage of your shattered life. The anger still burned hot within you, but beneath it, there was a flicker of something else—pain, sorrow, and a desperate longing for the life you had lost.

"I don't know if I can do this," you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I don't know if I have the strength to forgive you."

Ellie's arms remained wrapped around you, a comforting presence amidst the turmoil. She gently guided you away from the cafeteria, her touch reassuring as you stumbled through the hallways of Jackson. The weight of your grief felt heavier with each step, but Ellie's presence gave you a glimmer of strength.

As you reached the door, Ellie helped you inside, guiding you to the small couch in the living area. She sat beside you, her eyes filled with concern.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, her voice filled with worry.

You shook your head, the tears still streaming down your face. "I don't know," you admitted, your voice hoarse. "I just... I don't know how to deal with all of this."

Ellie reached out, taking your hand in hers. "We'll figure it out together," she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "I promise."

You squeezed her hand tightly, grateful for her unwavering support. "Thank you, Ellie," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion.

She leaned in, wrapping you in a tight hug. "I love you, Mom," she said softly. "And I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

Tears pricked at your eyes as you hugged her back, her words echoing in your mind. "I love you too, Ellie," you whispered, your voice breaking with emotion.

As you and Ellie held each other close, the weight of her love and support was a balm to your wounded soul. But amidst the embrace, a knock on the door interrupted the moment, causing both of you to startle.

Ellie pulled back slightly, her eyes searching yours with concern. "Should I... Should I get that?" she asked, her voice hesitant.

You shook your head, wiping away your tears as you tried to compose yourself. "No, it's okay," you said, your voice still shaky. "I'll go."

Ellie nodded, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze before standing up from the couch. "I'll be in my room if you need me," she said softly, giving you a lingering look before leaving the living area.

As Ellie disappeared down the hallway, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. With trembling hands, you made your way to the door and opened it, revealing Joel standing on the other side.

His expression was a mix of worry and remorse as he looked at you, his eyes filled with a silent plea for forgiveness. "Can we talk?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitated, the memories of your outburst in the cafeteria still fresh in your mind. But despite the anger and pain, there was a part of you that longed for closure, for a chance to understand.

"Okay," you said finally, stepping aside to let him in.

Joel entered the house, his footsteps hesitant as he crossed the threshold. The living room felt suffocatingly small as you both stood there, the weight of your shared grief hanging heavy in the air.

"I... I don't even know where to start," Joel said, his voice strained with emotion.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the words to express the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. "I just... I need to understand," you said, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I need to know why you did what you did."

The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the abandoned streets of the city. You and Joel had been scavenging for supplies, your footsteps echoing in the eerie silence that seemed to permeate every corner of the world.

You had felt uneasy all day, a knot of jealousy and insecurity twisting in your stomach at the sight of Sophie, her laughter ringing in your ears like a taunt.

You had implored Joel to come. You just wanted to feel as worthy and important to him as you used to, even in your state. But despite your misgivings, you had pushed them aside, focusing on the task at hand, determined to prove yourself capable and worthy of Joel's love and attention.

And then it happened.

If Joel had been more careful, he wouldn’t have allowed you to come. But he didn’t want to make you feel worthless.

A horde of infected had descended upon you, their snarls and growls a chilling symphony of death and despair. You had frozen; your mind was unable to comprehend the danger until it was too late.

But Joel had acted, his movements swift and sure as he pulled you away from the oncoming onslaught, his grip firm and unyielding.

And then he had seen her.

Sophie was trapped beneath the rubble, her screams echoing in the chaos as the infected closed in, their hunger insatiable.

And in that moment, something inside Joel shifted.

He had hesitated, torn between saving you and saving her, his eyes flickering with indecision, before he made his choice.

He had chosen Sophie.

He jumped off the horse, leaving you alone. You had watched in horror as he raced towards her, leaving you behind, your heart shattering into a million jagged pieces as the truth of his betrayal washed over you like a tidal wave.

You had screamed, your voice lost in the cacophony of the chaos, your tears mingling with the blood and dust that coated your skin.

And then the world went dark.

You fell from the horse, hitting the cobblestones hard. The pain was sharp and intense, searing through your body like a white-hot flame. You could hear the distant sound of screams and growls, the world around you spinning in a haze of confusion and agony.

Through the haze, you could dimly make out Joel's voice, calling out your name in desperation. But his words felt distant, a mere echo in the darkness that threatened to consume you.

And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the chaos subsided, leaving behind a heavy silence that pressed down on you like a weight. You tried to move, to call out, but your body felt numb and unresponsive. Your world went black.

"I need to know why, Joel," you repeated, your voice trembling with emotion. "Why did you choose her over us? Why did you leave me behind?"

Tears welled up in your eyes as you waited for his answer, the weight of his betrayal still fresh in your mind, a wound that refused to heal.

Joel's gaze dropped to the floor, his shoulders slumping with the weight of his guilt. "I... I don't know," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I panicked. I made a mistake."

Anger surged within you at his words, a fiery rage that threatened to consume you. "A mistake?" you repeated, your voice rising with indignation. "You left me to die, Joel. You left our child to die. How could you call that a mistake?"

Joel flinched at your words, the pain in his eyes mirroring your own. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm so, so sorry. You were my wife; I should.”

"Were you my wife?” You sobbed, “Since when is that in the past, Joel?”

Joel's words hung in the air like a heavy weight, his admission of guilt and regret piercing through the veil of anger and pain that enveloped you. But amidst the turmoil, there was a flicker of something else—a longing for understanding, for closure, for a chance to heal.

"You are my wife," Joel repeated clearly, his voice trembling with emotion. "I should have protected you. I should have been there for you. But I failed. I failed both of you."

His words stirred something deep within you—a wellspring of grief and longing that threatened to overwhelm you. "And now?" you whispered, your voice barely more than a hoarse whisper. "What am I to you, Joel?"

Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with sorrow. Not uttering a word.

“Do you have feelings for Sophie?” You asked, fear creeping to your bones, not wanting to hear the answer.

Joel's silence spoke volumes; his hesitation was a weighty presence in the air between you. You held your breath, afraid of what his answer might be and of the truth that lay hidden in the depths of his gaze.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Joel spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I don't know," he admitted, his words heavy with uncertainty. "

“You love her,” you stated. “That’s why you chose her.”

Joel's silence in response to your accusation only confirmed your worst fears, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth and a heavy ache in your chest. The truth hung in the air, stark and undeniable, like a shadow cast by the setting sun.

Tears stung your eyes as you struggled to process the betrayal, the pain of Joel's admission cutting through you like a knife. The realization that he might love Sophie and might have chosen her over you and your unborn child was a blow that threatened to shatter you completely.

"I can't do this," you whispered, your voice barely more than a broken plea. "I can't stay here, knowing... knowing that I'll never be enough for you. Living in a world like this is already hell, but you made it even worse. You made me feel disgusted by myself, worthless, and ashamed," you shouted. "You're a fucking coward."

Joel flinched at your words, the truth of your accusations cutting through him like a knife. For a moment, it seemed as though he might speak, might try to defend himself, but he remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor.

"Hate me; I'll wait. Until you forgive," he finally said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face as you struggled to find the words to express the depth of your pain. "Forgive you?" you chuckled bitterly. "I won't."

There are two types of grievances. The one who met the spirits in death and the one who met with the ghosts of someone who should have died in front of you. You still couldn't comprehend which one was worse. Both were painful, and both watered your eyes. But having the ghost of someone who brought you warm, freezing your aura while slipping from your grasp, leaving you crying to yourself till your head tired up and there wasn't anything left that fell into the voiceless world of sleeping, where in your dreams, you were still the same woman in the white dress, marrying the love of your life.

"I needed my husband! I need him now! And the worst thing is, I still need you, but you're just a fucking phantom."

"I'm still here," he exclaimed.

"No, you're not.".

"It wasn't even born!" Joel said.

The silence met souls leaving the lovers's bodies.

You were left speechless, tears ricocheting. Your heart was clenched in pain, and your throat felt like it was being torn apart by a monster.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Save it," you spat. You were exhausted, and your heart hurt so much that you couldn't even feel it beating anymore. "Sorry if grieving my baby was such a burden to you."

As you turned back to face Joel, the weight of your words hung heavy in the air, a painful reminder of the gaping chasm of loss that lay between you.

"Let me remind you of something, Joel," you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "Losing Sarah was the worst thing that happened to us, and just imagine how it is for me to know I carried her and this baby just to lose them both."

Joel's expression softened, a flicker of remorse crossing his features as he looked at you, his eyes filled with regret. "I know," he said softly, his voice heavy with sorrow.

"I'll move out," Joel said suddenly, his voice tinged with resignation. "So you can bring your new lover here and make all the babies you want."

His words cut through you like a knife, a painful reminder of the irreparable rift that had formed between you. "You know what really broke me?" you sobbed, the words tumbling out in a rush of emotion. "You... you're the biggest loss of my life, but as much as I love you, I despise you the same. You're the loss of my life I will be yours. There's no way back from this, Joel."

As the weight of your words hung heavy in the air, you reached for the wedding band adorning your finger, a symbol of a love that had once been unbreakable but now lay shattered at your feet.

With trembling hands, you removed the ring, feeling its weight in your palm as you stared at it, the memories of happier times flashing before your eyes like a cruel mockery of the present.

Without a second thought, you flung the ring towards Joel, watching as it spun through the air before landing at his feet with a soft thud.

"There," you said, your voice choked with emotion. "Take it. Take everything that remains of us."

Joel looked down at the ring, his expression unreadable as he reached out to pick it up and his fingers trembling as he held it in his palm.

"I don't want this," he whispered, his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper.

But you shook your head, tears streaming down your face as you stared at him, the pain of his betrayal a raw wound that refused to heal. "I don't want it either," you said, your voice barely more than a broken whisper. "But it's all we have left."

And with that, you turned away, unable to bear the weight of his presence any longer. The wounds he had inflicted upon you ran deep, a festering wound that refused to heal.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller series #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller angst #tlou fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel x reader #Joel Miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal

[darkplaces27]

They've just won Winterfell. Ramsey is dead. The Lannisters aren't chasing them and it's finally... quiet.

This may be the 3AM brain talking but I've often thought about what makes this moment special. Yes it has romantic connotations (especially if viewed out of context) but it's also so much more than that.

The last time they experienced this was before Jon went to the Wall and Sansa went to King's Landing and the world turned on it's head.

We've seen these two characters go to hell and back since then (quite literally). They've constantly had the odds stacked against them. They've lived and died in a thousand different ways. But they have also survived. Usually alone but eventually alongside each other.

And now they find themselves in this moment. This moment where they are finally safe. They are finally free. Most importantly, they're home.

It's a curious mix of emotions as Jon seems to acknowledge that by reaching out and pressing a long kiss against Sansa's forehead. Maybe he's happy, maybe he's sad they're the only two Starks present here, or maybe he's just grateful to have been able to keep his promise to her.

On Sansa's part, while she seems to go to Jon willingly, you can also see the wariness in her eyes. What does Jon want?

Which begs the question, when was the last time someone was this gentle with her?

Sansa's body is battleworn, still carrying the bruises from Joffrey, Littlefinger, and Ramsey. Everytime she's been touched, it's been a new tale of abuse. The girl that dreamt of marrying princes and having babies is long gone. Sansa has been hardened by time and carved by tragedy.

"No one can protect me. No one can protect anyone," she had insisted.

But when Jon touches Sansa, he doesn't see her as a thing to torture. He just sees her. Sansa. It's as simple and confounding as that.

Sansa, in turn, looks at Jon waiting for the illusion of his kindess to fade and yet... nothing happens. No one twists her arm, no one strips her of her clothes and throws her on the floor, no one tries to hurt her.

Sansa isn't a means to an end to Jon. She's not a plaything to be turned inside out once she's fulfilled her purpose.

Sansa is Sansa.

It's a beautiful callback to when she had defended Jon against Brienne. She'd been reminding her protector that Jon wasn't Joffrey or Ramsey or any of the men who had abused her so. Jon was Jon.

And as she sees Jon look at her without expectation and accepts his affection and promises, she realizes it's true.

Jon will never be the men who've destroyed her body and held her captive in their personal prison of pain. Jon will always be Jon. She can trust him.

gif cr: @annaboleyne, owner.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #game of thrones #jon snow #sansa stark #kit harington #sophie turner

[vermilionsun]

Time to yee the haw

Boothill

aka Pom-Pom

➢ Braids Boothill is surprisingly good at it. Since he decided on growing his hair, he had to find ways to keep it out of his face, and braiding was one of them—well, not something he thought of himself, but friends and family liked to do it for him and it just stuck. Now, he occasionally braids his own hair, though his metallic hands make it increasingly difficult.

➢ Hair His hair in general is a topic of its own and it needs to be talked about. Originally, his hair was raven black, but when he was undergoing the lab tests and maintenance, due to different factors, most of his hair turned white. He once looked at a mirror and aside from the dysphoria caused by the metal, the thought that he kinda resembled his dads flashed in his mind. He never looked in a mirror again.

➢ Kids He’s so good with kids. They just love him and no one knows why. Boothill, as the type of guy he is, will try to pretend to be annoyed, yet failing miserably as small hands would cling onto him. (If he could shed tears he would.)

➢ Swearing He actually doesn’t like to swear, thus the weird alternatives he uses. It’s a habit he picked up from having many younger siblings and friends—not wanting to swear in front of them—and one that he kept, no matter how ridiculous it might seem to others. When he adopted his little girl, he would barely not kill anyone who would swear in front of her, despite her being too young to understand.

➢ Nicknames If he happens to form any kind of bond with anyone, he will give them a nickname. They range from random words, a characteristic of the person, to inside jokes, to sweet pet names. And every person has multiple different ones. The only one who remembers them all is the one responsible for them.

➢ Flirting He isn’t the type of guy who will hit on anything that moves under the sun, but he does enjoy some casual flirting and bantering. It’s also his weak spot. If he gets back a more–than–equally flirty response he’s gone. In improbable cases he might even actually faint—if all his remaining blood leaves his brain to reside in his cheeks (a good smack will bring him back) (if you dare).

➢ Stars He and his family used to stargaze together, pointing out constellations and sharing stories. Now, he finds solace in the familiar twinkling lights above, feeling a sense of connection to his loved ones despite them being gone—a bittersweet comfort nestling in his lonely heart.

➢ Zoning out Sometimes his mind is just… elsewhere. He gets lost in thought easily, often planning stuff. Other times, he's simply reminiscing about days lost. It's like he's constantly searching for something that he can't quite grasp, leaving him feeling disconnected from the present moment.

➢ God He had always believed in justice and righteousness and that a higher being was watching over him and his loved ones, yet the destruction of his home shattered his faith in the universe's inherent goodness. He struggled to make sense of the chaos and devastation surrounding him, questioning how such tragedy could be part of a greater plan. Now, he finds himself grappling with the concept of fate and whether his life was truly guided by a divine force or simply subject to random chance. He sometimes prays, not for himself, but for the ones he lost, hoping that somehow his prayers may reach them in the afterlife, and the ones he still has.

➢ Skills Despite popular belief, Boothill is quite skilled in many areas. He is particularly adept at problem-solving and has a keen eye for detail. He can recognize disease and illness in animals with just a quick glance. As a cowboy, his experience working with livestock has honed his resourcefulness. Plus, he's a talented craftsman. The bullet earring of his? That's a real bullet casing that he fashioned into jewelry himself.

➢ Touch Boothill always adored physical touch. He thrived on hugs, cuddles, and any form of affectionate contact. Even a simple pat on the back could make his day brighter. With the only thing remaining of his original body now being his face, he craves the sensation of touch more than ever. The memories of warm embraces and gentle caresses are all he has left to hold onto.

➢ Songs If he hears anywhere a song that reminds him of home, he will subconsciously murmur it, maybe tap along to the beat. If he hears someone he knows singing it, then KABOOM! It’s karaoke night and some bring him a fudging guitar already—

➢ Wheat He likes to munch on it like gum. It's a strange habit, but it seems to satisfy his cravings for something chewy and subtly sweet. Sometimes he even chews on it while…ehm, working to help him concentrate.

➢ Hat When Boothill was young, Nick had promised to give him his hat one day. The day he did was the day Boothill found his girl. The hat was destroyed in the explosion, but Boothill made a replica, going as far as damaging it to have the same tears and bumps as the original.

➢ Survivor's guilt. Wishes he was with his family.

#boothill #bamboozled #hsr boothill #boothill hsr #boothill honkai star rail #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai sr #headcannons #boothill headcanons #hsr headcanons #verewrites #lmaooo #sorry not sorry #it's actually angst #and some fluff #a tiny bit #i regret nothing #:)

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

As Brazil copes with floods, officials face another scourge: Disinformation

Experts say online campaigns have targeted the floods in Rio Grande do Sul with fake news aimed at discrediting Lula.

The floodwaters in southern Brazil lapped near rooftops, turning roads into rivers and engulfing entire towns. More than 2.3 million people have felt the effects of the rising waters. A total of 161 people have been confirmed dead, with more bodies expected to be found.

Officials have called the torrential rains and flooding in the Brazilian state of Rio Grande do Sul “the worst climate disaster” the area has ever seen.

But they have said the tragedy is being amplified by another phenomenon: disinformation, intentionally designed to mislead.

Some articles, videos and posts claimed that the government of President Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva had blocked shipments of aid and medicine to the region. Others said Lula deliberately slowed the arrival of supplies so he could present them in person.

Still more asserted that government rescue workers were pulling out of southern Brazil, leaving residents to fend for themselves.

All three claims are false. But experts in media and political science told Al Jazeera that the disinformation has nonetheless continued to spread, often with real-world ramifications.

“I’m very concerned about it,” said Rogerio Christofoletti, a media professor who studies ethics and transparency at the Federal University of Santa Catarina, just north of Rio Grande do Sul.

“The volume of the fake news is very large, and it can foster a climate of mistrust.”

Continue reading.

#brazil #brazilian politics #politics #environmental justice #rio grande do sul floods 2024 #fake news #mod nise da silveira #image description in alt

[ryllen]

You know I am surprise Sebek that is never jealous to anyone who is close to Yuu. It is a boys school and I can imagine some have crushes on her.

#jk jk it's a total tragedy for sebek if he ever loves the same person as the one malleus loves #i swear malleus just loves the company #or is he #he did give me a little heart throb at the masquerade but that's all just yet #i can't really imagine anyone else likes her #malleus draconia #because partly i really don't plan of shipping her in the first place #sebek was a total surprise development fhsdshdh #this question arose at the time she was being shoved to jack #i can see that jack is totally someone to be jealous at ha ha; he is a total hunk #but i feel like sebek see him as a solid trustable friend than a snatcher who would disrespect him #i did think of a scenario from how sebek is jealous of malleus drinking coffee with silver that goes like... #yuu talking to silver; sebek be like “WHAT WHY ARE U TALKING TO SILVER MORE” #and yuu be like “bcs silver whispers when he talks” #and stubborn as he is sebek be like “I CAN TALK IN WHISPER TOO” #and he sat there and tried so hard to whisper which pretty much end up as at the very least normal talking voice #and Sebek just “GRRR NGRHRHHRH!!!!!! YOU'LL SEE I'LL WHISPER PROPERLY ONE DAY!!!! AND U'LL HANG OOUT WITH ME MORE” #fjsdsdj #but i don't even know what would yuu talk with silver #i didn't even realize before that silver is actually in 2nd class #they look so same age #yuu be like - . - to everyone anyhow #she just keeps the guy act while brushing off the thought whether the others already know she is a girl or not #sebek zigvolt #twst yuu #twst mc #twisted wonderland #twst #fanart

[oddberryshortcake]

I think the Knight of Dawn being "a coward who is unable to stand up for what is right and does as he's ordered to" and "someone who cares deeply about his family and did everything he could so that Silver could live a happy and normal life in the future" are two statements that can coexist.

#And Lilia knows this too which is huge #I love the complexities brought up in this chapter #I love how it really weighs in on Lilia's desire for world peace because war turns normally compassionate people do to terrible things #and no one wins when babies are orphaned #I love how far an act of kindness can go too #The Knight warned Lilia about Henrick's plan to kidnap the egg and gave Lilia an opening to escape #and 400 years later Lilia rescued Silver from his blessing turned curse and raised him and loved him the way his parents would've wanted #I love this fairytale #and the Knight is in the wrong but its kind of sad to see him being reduced down to his worst action #He's a tragedy but there's more to a person than just who they are at their worst #I'm gonna lose my mind when part 5 comes over here im sorry for what I become #twst #twst chapter 7 #twst spoilers #twisted wonderland #twst silver #twst knight of dawn

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

if dorian didn't show up, do you think louis would have shot minnie?

I do. I know some people think either he wouldn't have or he would've missed so that's why the writers had him shoot Dorian instead, but mmmmmm no, I don't personally think so. I like to think that if he had taken the shot, his shaky hands would've caused him to shoot her fatally.

Mostly because I'm already so normal about the fact that of the Ericson crew, Marlon and Louis are the only ones with a body count. Well, that we know of, but shown to us in the game, at least. Plus, we know it's Louis' first kill.

Like yeah, Clementine and AJ become part of the crew and they have bigger body counts, and if we're counting indirect kills caused by actions, then Tenn has a count... and I guess everyone has blood on their hands for blowing up the boat... but I'm talking about killed directly with a weapon like....... I lied, I'm not normal about that at all, Louis and Marlon are the ones who have killed someone in Louis' route. I'm also not normal about the fact that Louis kills Dorian and then even as he's clearly in shock, he tries to go with Clementine to get AJ, and then later on when they talk about it, he says it feels like bile but not quite and he's glad he has it in him to do it.... listen, listen, listen... I'm obsessed with that.

Anyway, so if Louis shot Minerva, I think he would've accidentally killed her and can you imagine? He's already enough of a mess after killing the woman who pinned him down and tried to cut his finger off [or succeeded] but he knew Minerva, they were friends before the twins were taken. Even Violet couldn't kill her even though that would've been the smarter thing to do, and we know thanks to meta knowledge that killing her would've saved lives, but Violet couldn't, and I don't think Louis would intentionally either.

Speaking of Violet, if Louis killed Minerva, I hate to think about what that would've done to Vi. I think she might've actually left at that point, like what was planned before it got changed to her being burned. I don't think she would've attacked Louis over it, though, like yeah she attacked Clementine in the cell but Louis? I don't know, but I don't think so just because it's Louis and he'd be a mess about it anyway.

Though if he did kill her, it would be a neat parallel to draw... y'know, because Louis forgave AJ for killing Marlon even though he was pissed and heartbroken, and Violet was annoyed with him the entire time... but could she ever forgive Louis for killing Minerva? Y'know? We already have a similar parallel with AJ shooting Tenn, but still.

If Clementine killed Minerva in that moment, though, then I could see Violet attacking her since in her eyes, Clem proved her right.

So yeah, I get why they added the Dorian kill to his route. It adds another compelling element to Louis as a character, but we also need Minerva alive for episode 4; Louis can't kill her, he can't miss, and he's not going to stay with her because we need Violet to stay on the boat and him to be on shore for all routes.

#asks #twdg louis #twdg minerva #twdg clementine #twdg violet #twdg marlon #twdg tenn #honestly whenever i see someone say louis is the boring option i'm just like '.......that's your opinion but also how can you say that??' #then again i'm sure other people look at me saying violentine just isn't for me and they say the same thing so y'know... i can't talk haha #also time is such a weird thing because i look at the entire cell scene in louis' route and like... i'm not even mad about violet anymore #like yeah i still don't believe she was brainwashed like i'm sorry y'all only believe that because kent said something about it #not because there's all this evidence toward it in game like vi being pissed at clementine makes sense she doesn't need to be brainwashed #for it to work like her being vulnerable and easily manipulated into submission makes perfect sense especially with minerva there #it's like everyone was pissed that she attacked clementine and people needed a way to excuse it so it's not violet's fault when like... #that's literally what makes it interesting like calm down it's okay if violet is pissed and scared and behaves accordingly #also my controversial opinion of the day that i'll hide here in the tags so maybe people won't find it sksksk but #I personally find the concept of vinerva and the doomed tragedy of it more compelling than anything violentine did #like i'll defend violentine and i do believe it's an important and good ship it's just not my personal favorite #anyway but then the whole thing with lilly and minerva is so good and louis screaming FUCK YOU at minerva?? amazing love it so good #i love when the soft character who never chooses violence is so pissed off that all that anger they have boils to the surface and it's raw #like... he's SO mad he's SO furious he's SOOO UPSET like he wasn't even like this when marlon died or anything like he hit his limit #and then shooting dorian through the mouth while an accident is just well done i love it and i love his reaction of mortification #and apologizing and YET he still tries to go with clementine he's trembling and can barely string together a sentence but he wants to go #he wants to help her he wants to save aj THAT is the gut reaction he has after everything that just went down #'louis isn't loyal or good for clem because of the vote' babe tell me you don't understand any nuance of louis' character without telling m #it's fine IT'S FINE you don't have to agree and i just have to remind myself that it's fine not everyone likes louis we're okay #this drives me crazy in the best way like y'know what? i love the cells scene in louis' route all of it even the stuff i used to rant about #even the stuff that used to piss me off now i'm just like 'no wait past cj was dumb she wasn't looking at it this way aaaaaaaa' sksksks #that was my tag ted talk about the cell scene thank you

[dirhwangdaseul-archived]

idk if i have stated in so many words before but kinda weird for people not to care about the brown men of the story on account of them being men

like most people did to javi irl what the yellowjackets did in the show lol, dismissed always, no more than the little kid, he was already dead

#and like i know you're not only being weird about their race but also that they get inbetween your girlhood fantasies #as if the story isn't based around the lord of the flies which is exclusively a look into white british boys behavior #so i ask of you what does that mean for who the yellowjackets represent like are they truly girlhood #or considering me and the other fans of color conferred and realised this shit wasn't even written with black or brown women #in mind or their ethnicity for input in the writing like idk adding kessell to the writing ffs anyway #so it's clear this was written with white womanhood in mind like #don't y'all think it reflects a particular female rage more trapped in time and space than entirely universality #which is ok if racist tbh but it still allows a look into a particular face of womanhood and not all encompassing #and again travis and javi were right there the tragedy is of childhood not girlhood there he didn't even get to be a person just the #annoying little kid in most of their eyes it's kind of sad #and telling y'all could dismiss javi and travis so easily before lile they're not brown men #fuck im angry #yellowjackets

[ectonurites]

SUPER DARK TIMES (2017) DIR. KEVIN PHILLIPS ↳ JOSH TEMPLETON, ZACH TAYLOR, & ALLISON BANNISTER

#super dark times #zach taylor #josh templeton #allison bannister #fun tiny detail: in their big focus gifs... Josh is looking at Zach. Zach is looking at Allison. and Allison is looking at Josh <3 #im simply. rotating these three around in my brain 24/7 yk. so many thoughts about each individually and in the assorted combos #Zach and his guilt. his inability to accept the role he had in what happened to Daryl and how that seeps out into EVERYTHING #Josh and HIS guilt—trying to reconcile the events we saw through such a 'Zach's (paranoid) POV' filter into something coherent #Allison as the bookends of the story who doesn't even KNOW the majority of what happened—considering HER perspective on it all... #if i think about the inherent tragedy of Allison's attempt at romance with Zach i need to like scream into a pillow they make me insane #Josh and Zach's deteriorating friendship... to lose the trust of your best friend... to be so hurt by the person who knows you best... #and then i have so many QUESTIONS about Josh & Allison towards the end. What did they TALK about on those phone calls?? #because there was more than just the one that would have been necessary to plan him coming over with the weed?? #sam edits

[wolfywolfy]

Genuinely I love Julian's route in The Arcana so much. The potential of it, this inherent pull towards someone and you don't understand why -- he's admitted guilt to murder yet you can't help but feel this strange insistence that he's innocent. You don't know how, but your body, mind, & soul are screaming at you that this man that you have never met before is good, he's not what others say he is, he's not what he himself says he is; and then you learn that he doesn't even remember what happened, he just assumes he's the guilty party because he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he was. Why else would he forget unless it was an unbearable guilt he couldn't bear the weight of?

And, on top of it all, he has this same strange familiarity with you. How does he feel when he sees you in the shop and his heart stutters? When suddenly his aimless searching for something feels resolved, when he looks at you and everything feels right? He doesn't know you and yet his body remembers.

The mutual amnesia of people who used to be extremely close. He sees you for what he thinks is the first time ever, but his body is telling him no, we know them, we miss their touch. And you, the apprentice, slowly realizing you're feeling the same things? You immediately trust him because, before you forgot, he was your partner. Your mentor. Somebody you were so incredibly, incredibly close to, but you died and he blamed himself and everything crumpled and he made himself forget so it could never happen again and then --

There you are. And neither of you remember, but at the same time, some part of you does. The muscle memory never left. He touches you so casually, pats your arms and grabs your hand and leads you around the alleys as if it's second nature because it is. He dreams of your face and his torment and of losing you, and doesn't realize that it was real, and that his body itches to hold you because that part of him can't bear to lose you again.

I am obsessed with it. How many little tells are there, really, that the two of you share and hint at it being an old habit from times forgotten? How many little touches used to be daily routines? How many flutters of visions aren't just passing thoughts and wishes, but memories?

You think of how hard it would be to kiss Julian with a plague mask on, and his response is "Imagine trying with two of them," because he wanted to kiss you when you were his apprentice, when you were both desperate and tired and aching and tortured by the plague with only each other's company as a comfort. Maybe that's why you had the thought of kissing him in the first place, too -- but neither of you know why the subject was brought up, neither remember, yet some parts of you do.

Ugh. I love it. And when Julian finally does regain his memories? And he realizes you're real and you're here and you've been here, and he has been able to touch you and hold you this whole time, but now he can truly appreciate it, but he's also horrified with the weight of losing you all over again. Oh my God. It's so good. The potential underlying thoughts and emotions are so good.

#im rambling #im just obsessed with past lovers who have mutual amnesia #but they both feel this weird sense of /rightness/ when they find each other again #and everything starts moving so quickly and its too quick to be comfortable yet it is more than comfortable #its natural its instinctual because you both fit #youve always fit you just dont remember #the tragedy the beauty the intimacy #the love shared inherently between people who cant remember why #but their bodies know they miss each other #and touching one another comes as easy as breathing even when everything around them is telling them no this is dangerous this is not sane #he is a murderer he is a terrible person he will hurt you #but your body says /no/ #because its whispering /i know him/ #grabs my heart and sobs into the pavement #im so sorry im rambling so much i just. its so good. i wish we had more books like this #not the one sided amnesia trope but the TWO sided amnesia #you dont remember what happened you dont remember who you used to be but your body is screaming /its them its them its them/ #sigh #julian #julian devorak #the arcana #the apprentice #arcana #arcana apprentice #spoilers #julian spoilers #Julian route spoilers #ilya #ilya devorak #Wolfy speaks

[bumblingbabooshka]

The sentence “Mark Johnson and T’Pel are here again, sir” becomes every Starfleet admiral’s worst nightmare.

#he and kathryn aren't officially married but Mark calls her his wife playfully anyway #I am firmly on team 'Mark Johnson is a good person and he and Janeway love each other very much' bc it makes the tragedy 10fold #I think after they receive word about Voyager not being destroyed or otherwise lost forever Mark suffers from an extremely guilty conscience #if he'd just been able to believe a little more...hold out a little longer... #Mark: You know near the end I thought you were a little crazy. Still holding out hope. I didn't know how you did it - I still don't. #When they tell you to 'stay strong' they don't tell you how much it hurts. (sad chuckle) but I guess I'm a bit of a coward. I gave her up #for dead. I should have known better. Of course she wouldn't go out that easy. #T'Pel tells him that just because he moved on doesn't mean he's a coward - in fact it takes a certain kind of bravery to do that as well. #Most of the people around her certainly urged her to do the same. She just...couldn't. As long as there was a chance - she couldn't. #She supposes that's also a form of cowardice. #Mark laughs. 'It all depends on how you look at it huh? mm...look at us. Two old fools~' (silence between them as they look up at the sky) #T'Pel and Greskrendtregk are among the very few who didn't give up their lovers for dead #and I don't think he's a grumpy person at all - if anything I'd characterize him as more energetic and a bit frustrated by how #serene Mark and T'Pel are hehe #also in my head Elieth and Varith believe that Tuvok could be alive while Asil and Sek think he's dead and are frustrated by the others #Elieth believes more fervently than Varith does (Varith is more in the middle saying neither possibility has been proven) #it causes a bit of family drama #also by 'started a family' Mark means getting married while T'Pel thinks he means had a baby #God...his name really is 'Mark Johnson' huh. Bathroom sign of a name. The most avergae man in the world. Love ya guy. #Mark - T'Pel - Greskrendtregk <- star trek name spectrum #doodle page #bea art tag #st voyager mark #st voyager mark johnson #t'pel #t'pel art #greskrendtregk

[ziracona]

[[Hawke v Arishok, 9:34 Dragon]]

#this is really how the finale of act 2 feels if you and the Arishok are best friends but you can't let Isabella die but also what makes it #is it's super mutal. if you're besties he tries to get you captured so you won't die and you're both like *draws sword trying not to cry* #dragon age 2 #The Arishok #Tiva Hawke #Hawke #DA2 spoilers #when you don't want to kill him and he doesn't want to kill you but he's honor bound to a duel to the death if he doesn't take back the #person who stole their holy book and if you don't accept the honor duel deal he'll have to just fight everyone there & a lot of people on #both sides will die so you have to duel your bro to the death honorably even though neither of you wants to or you're disgracing him and #causing more death but you can't let Isa be killed for the second time she did something selfless in her life #DA2 Act II finale was peak well-written tragedy because you have options but none of them are great and it was unavoidable for you #Isa could have stopped it. Maybe the government in Kirkwall could have. But not you. Not the Arishok. And you two are the ones who have to #pay for it. The scene where he asks you if the elves are right and you know this is the last straw but you're like 'yes. you're right.' and #he's like *deeply sad* 'Yes. I am.' Arishok @ Kirkwall *crying* 'I love your dumb citizens more than you so bad i have to kill your ass'

[ardentpoop]

physically recoiled at how much i dislike this take. dont pit the girls against each other like that weirdo . it’s giving *retches* supernatural fandom discourse 

#first of all kieran IS the dog's bollocks ldlifdjifuduf get outta here #like it's his fault kendall is the main character and thus has been more consistently focused on by the narrative than roman #if that werent the case kieran would have been a crowd favorite in every season guaranteed #also kieran was fucking RIGHT abt the show being a comedy!!!!!!!!!! #if you are not critical of every single one of these characters and their inherent evilness (yes EVILNESS) #if you are not laughing helplessly at the corrupt power structures they belong to and have zero desire to examine with any real #self-awareness #then you are watching the show wrong. period. it is a dark comedy and a tragedy rolled into one. jeremy happens to lean more into the latter #and kieran the former #kendall is a tragic character but he is also a BAD FUCKING PERSON. he is fucking ridiculous. he is the tone-deaf silver-spoon spoiled brat #tweet-slinging billionaire ''male feminist'' who loves the sound of his own voice #roman wears his ridiculousness more brazenly so fandom is less able to sanitize him i think. but boy. im begging u to view kendall thru #the same critical lens #tag vomit #succession #hope this doesnt show up in the tag im just muttering to myself in the dark

[roobylavender]

i read your post about a potential harvey murdersueicide and while that is a fantastically tragic idea i cant help but notice you always believe bruce should meet his demise early😭 as in, he doesnt get to experience true old age.

its not actually that i disagree or even not understand where youre coming from. i feel like, since dc insists batman has to exist and has to be a big player, the main character, gotham can never truly improve. because stories need to be told with him. theyre stuck, the city is stuck, and thus bruce is stuck, he only continues because he feels he is needed. in order for him to retire i think hed have to look at the progress hed made and go, yes ive done enough, but that will never happen because books need to be sold.

i think there could be potential for him to reach this conclusion and retire in a more limited series like a show or movie series, but do you think hell ever get to a point where he feels comfortable naturally retiring, and if so what would you think needs to happen?

i should probably clarify the reason i'm so invested in the idea of bruce dying early is bc denny o'neil said that by his early 40s bruce would either be married to talia or be dead and since he vehemently opposed the former i imagine had his editorial stint continued that he would have led us to a conclusion of the latter. so in my case it's less about a supposed impossibility for him to ever escape the life he leads as batman and more me being morbidly intrigued by this ultimatum denny set for the character. i'm not sure what his intended end for bruce might have looked like but ig in my imagination i either love the potential drama of the bruharvey murder sewercide or the sheer inconsequential nature of bruce dying while saving a life. not anything too grand or complex but simply being caught in the wrong place at the wrong time and dying as anyone would, while doing something he wholeheartedly believed in. like a car crash. the dark knight rises for all of its faults has a few plot decisions i dearly love, bruce's retirement and passing on of the mantle being one of them, but i think that's a development that, complementary to what you said, works more in a medium where things have to end. the trilogy was finite so it made sense for bruce to move on. comics however are never-ending. and even beyond that ig i don't think bruce would be the type to retire even if he did sort out a lot of his emotional issues or feel like the city was on the right path. he's a very stubbornly selfless person and so long as he has a working body he'll be putting it to use. in that sense batman beyond definitely took a logical path in that bruce only gave up the mantle when he could no longer physically maintain it. the only problem there was that the timmverse's bruce is progressively depicted as an isolated loner so his retirement feels almost like a defeat that is subsequently revived once terry enters his life. and maybe there is a world where bruce could sort out his issues and retire of his own volition instead but for some reason i find there to be more meaning in bruce dying doing what he believes in. and maybe he's happy and gotham is on a path to being better bc he's reconciled with his children and maybe he's slowly trying to dedicate more of his time towards abolitionist work on the ground rather than encompassing all of his spare time in vigilante work. but i would like to think if he died in the mask at a point where his life is like that that it would still be meaningful. bc the mask would no longer be a prison. it would be what it was always intended to be: the truest representation of himself and his desire to help others

#so ig what i'm saying is. i still maintain my/denny's vision but while simultaneously agreeing with you. in a sense #like i think retirement for him /can/ be death. so long as it's meaningful and he's content where he is #bc isn't it nice to die knowing your things are set in order. that you're more fulfilled in your relationships. that you have purpose again #from the outside it's definitely tragic but i think for the person who dies it would be a comfort to know they could die a little happy #which ig is why the bruharvey murder sewercide appeals to me as well as a sort of dual tragedy / triumph #bc i would love for it to occur at a point where bruce is content in his life and has resolution and closure with his children #so that there are no loose ends. so that it just happens and it's heartbreaking and raw but also after a while they all realize #that it was better for him to die this way than in misery. idk. i hope i am making sense please let me know if any of this is insensitive t #say.. that cut off weird bc of the character limit lmao #outbox

[andthebeanstalk]

Infinity Train isn't the best counterpart to Last of Us on positive representation. Remember the only explicitly Neurodivergent character in Infinity Train became a villain and died brutally on screen?

No, I don't remember. But what I do remember is that the entire core concept of the show is basically "a train that puts people through magical therapy." And so I remember that nearly every lead character is clearly dealing with some form of mental illness or another. I don't need every character to be explicitly diagnosed onscreen to know that the show is chock-full of neurodivergent characters, so I'm quite genuinely not sure what you mean. Have I missed something?

#like correct me if I'm wrong but i recall Simon's inability to see other living creatures as fully alive came from a place of entitlement #and i didn't see it as an accident that it was the white boy who was ultimately unable to break free of the power it gave him #but like. I don't know how a neurodivergent person can watch season 2 and come away with #the idea that MT is somehow a neurotypical character written by a neurotypical person #and in season 4 the guys fight a monster that is the literal embodiment of depression. am i missing something? #what does simon have? i don't recall him explicitly stating a mental illness or difference. maybe I've forgotten #but like. all the characters are mentally ill. for some of them that is why they are on the train! #having all of them state an official medical diagnosis would not only be distracting but impossible in some cases #mt doesn't have access to mental health services how could they know?? #simon was a mentally ill person who got so fucking sucked into the comfort and power of cultism that he was lost and it was a tragedy #I never got the impression that this was because he was more mentally ill than other people on the train. #just like how people who get really into conspiracy theories are not doing it because they are mentally ill. #illness might make them more vulnerable to brainwashing but there is a DRIVE that has to be there too. #and very often that drive is a kind of hatred and insecurity that cannot be reasoned with. it is a tragedy. a very real tragedy. #original

[rainswings]

It breaks me, sometimes, when I hear about the dreams of my coworkers. One of the men who runs checkout stands went to art school and dropped out because he realized he couldn't make it, couldn't let art become a job, but fell for a girl there so hard, so deeply, she's now halfway across the world doing grad school and going to be an art conservationist, and before having this conversation and hearing this information I'd never seen so much happiness in his face, than when he spoke about how wonderful a job that is. I asked him what he drew, and he produced a little pocketbook full of the most intricate penwork, the berserk sword drawn in such detail I could feel the scrape and rough of the metal, chipped out with little black holes I thought I might fall into.

He's accepted this is his forever job, being a checkout clerk. He's willing to love a girl he won't see for years. I would break bones for him.

#rains talks #im in my feelings about my clerks tbh #them and my kitchen. its like second cousins. second coworkers #and i adore them so much more than i can say. so much more than they realize #everyone has tragedies of course. but those are my people. they are kind to me. and so frequently they are in the midst of agony. #his grandmother just passed recently. he was close. and the girl pretended to go on a date to make him jealous #i care about him so much. and hes really not the point. hes just who i heard about today. #i still miss justin. i pray kahnor is doing well or better. mikki i pray is alive #i love them all i love them i love them #i am going to weep because my love will save them from nothing. #uhhh. ok to reblog ig? its personal but i like the way i said this