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#sad times hit hard
birdricks · 4 months
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the really interesting thing about mortys fear of relying on rick is that it really does go both ways. like as much as hes afraid of needing rick... rick needs him just as much, if not more. and i think this ties into mortys fear of having to be responsible for ricks sadness.
there are SO many times where morty threatens to leave rick... just as rick constantly reminds morty that he can be replaced.
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the difference is that morty COULD leave rick behind if he really wanted to. and he could probably be okay without him. but hell always come back to rick... because thats how hes meant to be. a mortys defining trait is how he will always put rick and his emotions first.
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we can see this in evil morty and how he was able to escape the cycle simply by no longer caring about ricks feelings. what makes him different isnt being evil... its simply no longer prioritising the feelings of rick over his own.
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like how many times do we see morty choosing to stay with rick despite everything rick puts him through? and i think this is partly where his forgiveness comes from. of course he does truly love rick and that plays into it, but hes also terrified of what might happen without him there to fall back on.
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any time rick feels he might lose morty he spirals and lashes out in some weird manipulative way to keep morty reliant on him (which is ironically the very thing morty fears most).
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and whenever he DOES lose morty for any amount of time he turns into a complete wreck. probably part of the fear of his own reliance on rick comes from knowing its largely manufactured by rick and not fully his own choice.
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even WITH morty there to support him rick is incredibly prone to suicidal ideation and self destructive tendencies. its not hard to work out what would happen if morty was no longer around to cater to his emotions.
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so he stays. of course its awful for him. but he does it. hes willing to sacrifice himself and his own emotions to save rick over and over again. because he knows what will happen if he doesnt.
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thousand-winters · 3 months
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Fascinated by people just getting into WTNV and asking if there is a list of episodes to listen to, omitting the "unimportant" stuff I assume.
Chill, you all. Night Vale has been ongoing for around 11 years and it's yet to show any sign that it intends to end any time soon, so you can take your time. Even if it ended soon, there is time.
Enjoy the episodes as they are. Chew on them.
WTNV does this very special thing of making the town feel alive, not every citizen gets an arc or even a spotlight, but they're constant, they're there, living their lives. Those little details, little mentions of everyone growing and continuing living as time pass make it feel so nice.
And then, one day, Night Vale surprises you, and, oh, hey, remember that one intern whose death wasn't confirmed? Well, he has come back, and if you remember him and remember what happened to him at the time, you'll be able to connect the dots of the current arc faster.
The MOST unexpected things come back. The town is alive.
Just enjoy the ride! Enjoy Cecil's voice. Enjoy listening about this friendly desert community where the sun is hot, the moon is beautiful, and mysterious lights pass overhead while we all pretend to sleep.
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bellepark · 5 months
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KIM YOUNG KWANG as Han Dong Jin CALL IT LOVE (2023), ep. 5
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noname-404s-blog · 9 months
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"Healing is messy" 😢 I know it 😔
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raytorosaurus · 2 years
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i can't stop staring at all these images of ray smiling so huge and bouncing around and singing along up there like. how many times has he said he wouldn't want to be in a band if it was with any other people. that he can't imagine any feeling better than being on stage with those specific guys. he's one of the best guitarists out there but the one and only time he performed during my chem's hiatus was for a private muppets charity show with gerard. he has like three tattoos and one of them is his my chem stage position. THIS IS THE ONLY BAND HE EVER WANTS TO BE IN AND THEY'RE BACK TOGETHERRRRRR AND WE GET TO SEE IT
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cat-mentality · 8 months
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The downfall of the Federation doesn’t come with explosions.
It doesn’t come with blood and ashes and destruction.
It doesn’t even come from anger.
It’s not rage, it’s not boiling blood and snarling mouths, it’s not swear words in multiple languages, it is not righteous outrage and the need to tear down the ones responsible for your suffering, it’s not carefully crafted plans, it’s not tearing down symbols or making statements, that ultimately makes the Federation falls.
The downfall of the Federation does not come from the Islanders.
Not directly at least, not in the way they all expected it to happen.
The downfall of the Federation is slow.
It starts with a barber shop. 
It starts with giving a name to someone.
It starts with showing someone they could be more than “it.”
The downfall of the Federation starts with kindness.
When an Islander, mad by grief and hatred for the Federation, still gives a name for a worker who has nothing but his job. When his refusal is not met with anger and violence but with understanding and reassurances.
When an offer of something unknown is made.
What is friendship?
Friendship is caring.
Friendship is loving.
Friendship is laughter.
Friendship is a helping hand.
Friendship is not laughing at the unpleasant, back breaking, task of fixing what someone else broke. It’s acknowledging your hard work and praising you for it, is offering help even if said help is meaningless.
Friendship is answering questions with care.
Friendship is seeing someone, acknowledging their existence.
The Federation does not know what friendship is.
Oh they can give you the definition of the world, they can throw the word around as if they know what they are doing- But they don’t, because they don’t understand it.
(Friendship is not something perfect.)
Friendship is kindness.
And kindness spreads. Faster than fire, deeper and hotter than any explosion could dream off.
The workers see the Island.
They are the usually invisible forces building constructions and fixing messes, they are the ones making sure everything is perfect, that everyone is happy, that everything is in order.
But who cares for them?
The man with the wings who casually mentions they are welcome to take some of his avocado toast if they can feel hunger, who tells one of them once, careless like it’s nothing important, that he knows it’s not their fault, that they are not the ones they should blame.
The weird hybrid with the loud laughter who likes to look at them building, who will throw tips sometimes, who is never mean no matter how much he may laugh at them sometimes, what pranks he may play.
The inseparable duo who saw them as individuals before anyone else did, who help rebuild things others have destroyed, who are so clever, so kind, who never target them in their anger.
The kind janitor, who even if he never relaxes around them, if his shoulders are always tense and his eyes track their movements, always greets them, always insists on making small talk even if it means waiting for them to write.
The weird employee who looks like he wants to be anywhere but there, who looks at them like he understands, like he can see what they feel even if they don’t have faces, even if they cannot understand and name those broken parts themselves, who rages at the bear but never at them.
The Islanders as a whole.
The people who love and laugh and cry and suffer everyday in this Island, who in the middle of their worst moments can still find in themselves to show kindness, to propose friendship even if they know it will bring them nothing back.
The downfall of the Federation starts oh so very slowly, so subtly they don’t even realize it’s happening until it’s too late.
It happens with quiet rebellions, it happens when warp plates are left there, when books with important coordinates are dropped, when books with relevant information or warnings are left behind, when a building is built with hidden but there escape routes, when answers are given with as much clarity as they can.
It happens loudly sometimes too. With refusal to cause harm, with questions about why, about how they could do this or that, it comes with helping prisoners escape, it comes with antidotes being stolen and shared with those that deserve.
And when the reset happens, when their minds get scrambled and they go back to being nothing but mindless, faceless workers, it doesn’t matter.
Because time and time again kindness proves itself to be stronger. The Federation can wipe their memories a hundred times, they can do whatever they want to them and their minds, it is fruitless because they cannot stop the Islanders from being kind, from being good.
And it grows, and grows and grows until the Federation devours itself. 
The downfall of the Federation doesn’t come from hate.
It comes from love.
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knight-engale · 7 months
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"Good morning, my love. How'd you sleep? Oh, me? I slept wonderfully. I had you with me, after all."
Sometimes we have to give up practicality (blackout curtains) for aesthetic (interesting lighting)
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winepresswrath · 9 months
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I do gotta say tho, even tho I’m mad at aziraphale because he’s being a terrible boyfriend like what you said about the “I forgive you like” because WHAT. But also I really like the way the show really demonstrates the underlying cruelty of heaven and it’s angels. Really shows the hypocrisy of a group of beings who are supposed to do good, especially aziraphale who really buys into the heaven propaganda, who hurts people, particularly the person who means the most to him. Because like you said he fully just takes advantage of that devotion Crowley has for him. Insane, this shwo makes me INSANE
I missed this anon and yeah! The angels were one of my favourite parts of the season, and I think the strongest element aside from Neil Gaiman deciding he's just a simple man who wants to put his otp in situations. They are deeply awful and I kind of love them. They are the exact kind of moralizing hypocrites who are callous and cruel precisely because they think being on team good means everything they do is justified and it's actually impossible for them to be in the wrong (they're angels! is it even possible for them to do the wrong thing?).
but!! To me, they also seem like they're basically kids? Obviously they're not literally children, but there is this very consistent reoccurring joke about how childish/sheltered/immature they are. Muriel is the most obvious example, but the archangels come off like bratty twelve year olds to her sweet little kid.
Gabriel is basically teenager in love flipping off his family as he runs away with his backstreet guy. Uriel is constantly picking at Michael, Michael is playing at being in charge like it's a game, and it's ridiculously easy for both Aziraphale and Crowely to trick them obvious half assed lies. They're not allowed to ask questions! The Metatron treats them like badly behaved kids out past their curfew. At any point an old man with a beard may pop up to scold them and send them home, and they're all scared of doing something wrong by his standards and getting in trouble with this guy who is pointedly not God but who lines up exactly with the pop-culture idea of god the father, and who offers Aziraphale, among other things, a respite from the hard work of figuring out what the right thing to do is for himself. It's fine! You don't have to question the belief system you were born into or make a painful break with everything you've ever known! Aziraphale has had six thousand years on earth to grow up, but the other angels have been sitting in a sterile white box playing "i'm not touching you" games with each other and filing paperwork.
And I think that's extra interesting because this season also really emphasizes:
Heaven has Institutional Problems
Aziraphale isn't the only angel who's unhappy in heaven. Gabriel and Muriel were both completely miserable. They just didn't understand that they were unhappy because they'd never experienced anything else.
Angels who aren't Aziraphale can change and grow! There's very explicitly Gabriel being changed by love and Muriel growing up a bit on earth, and from a more fan-theory angle there's also Jimbriel, who I think is probably basically Gabriel minus the war and six thousand years of playing referee for Michael and Uriel while unleashing an assortment of plague and calamities on earth because that's God's will! Buck up champ.
We also get Gabriel and Beezelebub talking about how their underlings basically live for Armageddon, "if you can call that living." This is so bleak. They've all been on a six thousand year time out just dreaming of the day they get to beat the shit out of each other until they feel better, but it won't work because eternity is just more of the box.
Anyway I think it's going in a distinctly eden adjacent direction. Aziraphale is going to tempt those angels with knowledge and the capacity for change. I have veered so far from your ask anon i'm sorry you're right heaven really went all out on sucking this season & while Crowley and Aziraphale are both fucking it up Crowley refrains from being spectacularly cruel to Aziraphale about it and Aziraphale should learn to return the favour. I forgive you!! I forGIVE you. I forgive YOU. "you can be an angel again" is actually a worse thing to say than "you're a demon. i don't even like you." when he finally picks crowley over heaven i'm going to lose my mind.
#good omens spoilers#good omens season two spoilers#idk it makes me sad that i didn't like the humans very much this season because i think ideally they're central to this whole how to be#a person question i also hope we get to see more of hell next season because i do think they're stuck in basically the same place#with a different aesthetic! and the stick being#thrown into a torture pit instead of thrown into hell#or like. mindwiped and locked in an office for all eternity#gabriel broke my heart which is embarrassing but when he goes from not even understanding what music is to experiencing#the simple pleasure of sharing a song with someone for the very first time and almost immediately hits repeat for eternity... baby. baby bo#i would also like more crowley! this was very much the season of aziraphale#which is fine but i missed him yelling questions at god and the bits where it seemed he really wanted aziraphale's opinion instead of just#wanting aziraphale to develop better opinions#next season had better be crowley wrestles with the universe i am telling you!!!#remember three months ago when i was like eh... another good omens season#i bet it'll be cute but i'm content with my book#i don't go here i said strapping on my clown shoes#seriously though i do think crowley is scared to admit to wanting to be good both because god rejected him and he doesn't want#to be a sucker for her (he is only interested in being a sucker for aziraphale)#and like. chase after something he's barred from and has already been told isn't for him.#and that's why it's so hard for him to admit even to himself that he too would be unhappy ditching earth#in ways that parallel aziraphale's unwillingness to let go of heaven as a source of moral authority and goodness#but the way aziraphale goes oh no! i cannot trust my own judgement and desires. They are suspect!#my judgement is that crowley is good and also funny and sexy. my desires are for his company and also his body#therefore the source of these desires is also maybe bad. i mean he's a demon. he's got to be bad#right??? but no. but i saw him do a good thing. but maybe i didn't? I should probably take a stance on this.#and he makes this crowley's problem until the apocalypse but then the second he gets the chance to cram crowley and his feelings for him#back in a heaven approved box he jumps at it in a way that requires just being WILDLY insensitive and dismissive of crowley's feelings#he's not just being a dick about their relationship he is being a dick about crowley as a person. and he should know better but is choosing#not to because he wants the easy out so badly. anyway i love him he was my favourite character all season no notes#good omens
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spikrock · 5 months
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A CHANGE OF HEART. one of my favorites. i love this episode SO MUCH!!!! for one: the songs are all great. the queens music video....taffy tango (the song that invented gay people fr)... i love the dancing in the tweedle's song where theyre climbing on the construction thingy....and then the last ones just catchy. but also!!!!!!! the episode is just sweet!!!!!!!! alice giving the queen a valentine just cus she likes her :((( dont even get me started on the queen not believing her at first :(((((( like its just so....RAAAH..... im crying man.....dont do this to me...,.,.,.,., if you like someone, say it with plyyyywoooood!
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sailxrmxrs · 1 year
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hi hello this is my formal application to join the vampire diluc enjoyers club. i love vampires and i love diluc. putting the two together is just recipe for a breakdown of the greatest proportions (in a good way). so enjoy the result of my brain exploding over my keyboard and manifesting the exact brand of hurt/comfort, mildly angsty diluc that i need in these desperate times. also secret pining and slowly building tension that is so palpable you can feel it deep in every corner of your brain. bc it's tasty. anyway enjoy the vampire diluc goodness bc wowie i need to take a minute after this. cw for blood and injury and the usual vampire behaviours!
When adventuring in unfamiliar territory, one must always pay close mind to their surroundings and take note of any nearby points of interest. A small town, a lone cottage, anything that signified safety and civilisation. If you became too complacent, there was no telling who or what you might stumble upon along your travels, or the danger they might possess. Such a reality came to fruition during your ventures through the lands of Mondstadt. You, a lone adventurer out in the world with little but the clothes on your back and some quickly dwindling supplies. The experience had been mostly peaceful, your lack of companionship offering a quietness that kept you safe from imminent harm. That was, however, until you happened across a band of Treasure Hoarders making your way toward Springvale. Trying to fend them off had proved difficult considering you were wildly outnumbered. Treasure Hoarders weren't known for their amicable dispositions nor their willingness to leave a lone stranger who happened upon their camp unscathed. One glance at the stack of treasures they'd undoubtedly stolen and your fate was sealed—they hadn't killed you at least, but remaining alive meant little when your body was so battered and broken in their wake. They'd left plenty of deep cuts and scratches along with an array of purplish bruises where their fists had struck true. The worst of all your injuries, however, was the small throwing knife lodged in the side of your knee and the sprained ankle that swiftly followed when you collided with the ground. They'd left you alone after that, tossing your aching body back onto the dirt road before laughing amongst themselves and returning to the warm air of their campfire. Laughter had never sparked such a furious rage in your chest than in that very moment. But what could you do? There was no one else around to come to your aid, nor could you fight them off in your condition. To attempt such an endeavour would only guarantee your death. And so all that you could do was muster up enough strength to rise to your feet and find shelter of some kind. Anything was better than laying in the road and risking the Treasure Hoarders return for a second round.
Walking blindly along, gait unsteady and slow, the sprain in your ankle soon began to feel more like a fracture. The uneven ground along with the tiredness that seeped in your bones made you feel weak beyond belief. To think just one chance encounter would upend your travels so drastically was beyond prediction. And yet, here you were, making your way through the wilds in search of any sign of help. That was when you emerged from a forested clearing and caught sight of a mansion of sorts sitting in the sprawling hills of its surrounding landscape. There was no sign of it being occupied yet it had not fallen into a state of disrepair. Someone must tend to the area else it wouldn't look so invitingly pristine. But even as you neared the stone steps leading up onto the mansion's grounds, there were no maids nor groundskeepers in sight. All that stood was a towering building of unbelievable proportions compared to the homely cottages and makeshift campsites you'd come across since first reaching Mondstadt. Judging by the rows of grapes that lined the mansion's perimeter, the master of the house, whoever that may be, ran some sort of establishment that dealt with wines. That, or he just rather quite liked grapes. Either way, whoever resided here was your only chance at securing a safe place to rest your head until you could make a full recovery. Or, at least, recover enough to head out for Springvale and onto the City of Freedom itself.
When you reached the heavy wooden doors, it took almost all of your remaining energy to knock hard enough to be heard from inside the mansion. Agonising seconds passed, each moment that you remained alone weighing heavier and heavier on your shoulders. Was there even anyone in there to hear the desperate call for help in your weakened knock? Would they even care to aid a lone adventurer who had trespassed onto their land? Question and doubt plagued you as you stood staring at the stillness of the doors, what small semblance of hope they had granted now beginning to rapidly fade away. Just as that flickering flame was about to extinguish itself, a loud creaking sounded as the doors opened a crack. Anticipation rose at the thought as the mansion's occupant made themself known. Standing before you was a man with hair that could only be described as flame red. His hair tumbled over his shoulders in curled waves that shone even bright in the moonlight. He wore a white linen blouse, framed by a long, dark jacket that lay slightly crooked on his body—perhaps the only sign of dishevelment upon his entire being. The top button of his blouse was undone, revealing a small triangle of his pale complexion. His skin was so clear it seemed almost iridescent under the moon's opaline light. Something about him was hauntingly beautiful, down to the dark amber of his eyes and the almost scowl that failed to mar his grievous beauty. In your distraction, you barely noticed how his eyes trailed every inch of you searching for something in your clothes that might identify who had approached his home. Even after registering his intrigue, it took a moment to come to your senses, realising this mysterious man was waiting for you to offer some explanation as to your arrival.
"I apologise for disturbing you so late, sir. I ran into some trouble with a band of Treasure Hoarders and don't have the strength to get myself to safety. If it isn't too much trouble, might I rest here for the night?"
He remained silent as he examined your condition, gaze settling on the throwing knife that remained lodged in your skin. Safer to keep it there than risk bleeding out. Something in his stance shifted, his nose crinkling for a fraction of a second before he opened the door further and gestured for you to enter. What lay before your eyes only heightened your curiosity. Despite the grounds being empty, you had expected to see at least a few members of staff walking about the place, dusting off bookshelves or fetching the master a late night beverage. But there was nothing of the sort in sight. Instead, you were greeted with an open room decorated with the finest opulence—evidence of your host's wealth. This man you had happened upon and his home were most unusual, and yet you couldn't stave off the intrigue that tingled each of your senses, whispering in your ear how you mustn't run. It was so invitingly warm compared to the howling winds; a beaconing safe haven you couldn't possibly walk away from even if your injuries weren't preventing you from doing so.
Your host directed you toward a pair of cushioned sofas, having closed the heavy doors with ease. For a man so draped in elegance, he was certainly stronger than he seemed. Even the way he walked was captivating, as though each and every step was perfectly calculated and orchestrated so that he always presented an image of divine excellence. So much of him seemed to embody a sense of refinement that could capture and control a room with a mere glance. This was not some ordinary businessman residing in these walls.
"Here. Take a seat while I see what supplies I have." He was certainly a man of few words, though you couldn't fathom why when his voice sounded so velvet smooth. There was something otherworldly in the way he spoke, as though he did not truly belong here. Was this perhaps just an affectation of the countrymen in Mondstadt? There was no use dwelling on who your host might be, names and history of the nation all too unknown to mean little more than idle chatter to you. Still, there was always the chance he might indulge the questions swarming your mind. When he returned, apologising for the wait, he kneeled down to tend to the worst of your injuries. Namely the wound from the throwing knife that throbbed with each minute movement of your leg. He was careful not to aggravate the spot too much, carefully removing it and tossing the blade aside once it was finally free. A large, yet cool, hand pressed gauze against the now open wound. The pressure was uncomfortable, but a necessary price to pay for the reward of recovery.
"You're lucky you came here. Not everyone would know or possess the materials to close this wound of yours." His eyes met yours, candlelight reflecting in the deep colour of his irises. Before they had looked almost brown but the soft golden glow illuminating this corner of the room was enough to show their true colour—whorls of gold embedded among amber. He soon averted his gaze to focus on your injuries, leaving you mildly dazed from how you reeled at the short moments of eye contact. It felt like it lasted far longer than it had.
"Then it's a good job I found your home, isn't it?" You offered a smile, hoping that even a fraction of your gratitude came across in the gesture. A whispering echo of his own smile twitched in his lips as he remained focused on your leg. The pain had dulled somewhat, though the discomfort still remained, but it was nothing you couldn't endure. You let your eyes wander, surveying the room around you while your host stitched the wound back together. It was then that you began to notice the signs of his solitude; stacks of books were piled on the floors, a thin veneer of dust covering the leatherbound volumes. They looked old even ignoring their dusty state and how the pages had yellowed with age. In fact everything around you seemed a little too old fashioned to be considered coincidence. Perhaps he had inherited the mansion from family and simply hadn't bothered to redecorate? There was no telling just what secrets might lie in the cracks and crevices of this aged mansion or the man inhabiting it. Still, it wasn't as if you planned to stay for too much longer so no doubt all those mysteries would remain buried in the walls for as long as he willed them to.
By the time he had finished stitching your wound and tending to your ankle which, as luck would have it, had indeed worsened to a fracture, you could feel sleep tugging at every extremity in your body. The pain was not a distant echo though you still felt rather fragile as you lay back on the cushions. Your host and healer had not long left to discard the now-used materials. He had remained quiet for the most part, only offering small warnings to prepare for a spike of pain. Everything about him, his name included, was shrouded in mystery and there was nothing you longed for more than to pull back the curtain concealing so much of himself from your gaze. When he returned, you barely registered his voice in your ears as sleep crept closer and closer.
"Luckily for you I have a spare room in suitable condition for a guest. Your ankle will need some time to heal so I'm afraid you might need to stay here longer than you intended." You mumbled out a mostly incoherent reply, falling unconscious shortly after a pair of strong arms lifted you from the sofa and carried you away while sleep took its hold.
The following day sunlight poured over your skin, gently waking you in an unfamiliar room. You were laying in a large bed wearing clothes you didn't recognise. The room was not overly decorated, though it wasn't too minimalist either; a bookshelf piled high sat along the back wall and there was a set of drawers beneath the open window and a flowerpot nestled in the middle, its leaves gently moving in the breeze. The air was fresh and invigorating, slowly pulling you out of the hazy drowsiness of your slumber. Memories of the previous night were a slight bit too far out of your grasp, as though a film of fog was clouding the snapshot pictures of all you saw. It was only as you slowly found consciousness and energy creeping back, along with the persisting aches, that everything settled in your mind. You'd been badly injured, stumbled upon an almost uninhabited manor and found yourself in the care of an unknown lord. It almost sounded too fantastical to be real but the sudden knock at the door and immediate entrance of your host proved this was not some elaborate dream you'd manifested while asleep.
"Ah, you're awake. How do you feel?" He carried a tray in hand, laden with food and some water.
"Sore. But good. What time is it?" One bite was enough to make you realise just how much you needed this meal.
"Early afternoon. You're a heavy sleeper." His lips upturned in a small smile as he perched at the foot of the bed. Today he looked more prepared for guests than the previous night. The deep maroon of his corset only accentuated the brightness of his hair and he seemed a fraction more composed than when he'd first laid eyes on you. A moment passed when the state of your undress registered in your mind, warming your cheeks as you tried to sit up despite the persistent twinge of pain striking your leg.
"Ah, ah. None of that. I'm prescribing you a few days of bedrest. Your ankle is in rather poor condition and I'd rather not have you become a permanent resident in my home for it."
Worry that you might be imposing began to rise. The last thing you wanted was to be bothersome or interrupt any plans he might have had.
He held out a hand, as if sensing your inner turmoil. "Your face is an open book. Relax. I'd rather see you fully healed than send you away into danger. I live alone here so the company might be rather pleasant for a time. Still, I do not wish to rob you of your independence so I intend to arrange for a walking aid so that you can venture the manor at your leisure. Until then I ask that you remain in here."
You nodded, accepting that the both of you had little choice in the matter. After all, you did come to Mondstadt with the intention of seeking adventure and new sights. This was just another chapter, one that was entirely unplanned and unexpected, but an adventure all the same. Over the following week you found yourself growing closer to the man who'd aided you. Diluc, you'd learnt was his name, was a private man, only offering small titbits of himself whenever you asked. He was most amicable in the evenings, frequently joining you upon your request to read under the waning remnants of sunlight. It was then you'd learnt about his lucrative wine business, something he'd inherited from family though he had divulged no more than that. Where his family was now you could only assume from the pained crease in his brow that the story was not one that possessed a happy ending. Much of Diluc's existence seemed to suggest his was a life of difficulty despite the lavish furnishings of his home. Even a wealthy estate felt barren if you were the only one to occupy it.
In spite of how fond you had grown of Diluc, much of him was still shrouded in mystery. Even his day-to-day routine sparkled ounces of curiosity within you—specifically because you were privy to so little of it. Even after acquiring a walking aid and gaining access to the manor in its entirety, you still felt as though you barely knew the man hosting you. He'd served your meals while bedridden but had encouraged you to help yourself to all the supplies in his pantry and inform him of anything else you might need. Yet you had never seen him eat. If ever you commented, he would reassure you not to worry and would swiftly change the subject; if he wasn't an expert at diverting conversation before, he certainly was now. And it wasn't just around eating, Diluc would also dismiss any and all inquiries about his sleeping schedule. Whenever you rose in the morning, Diluc would be about the mansion having already started his day. And come evening time when you were fighting to stave off sleepy yawns. Diluc seemed to possess just as much energy as he did in the mornings. Perhaps he fuelled himself on an abundance of coffee, but you had yet to see him take even a sip of the stuff. There was also the fact you could have sworn you heard him leaving the manor late at night. Maybe it was just the sound of the wind, but it sounded a little too loud even for the sweeping winds of Mondstadt. Diluc's evasive nature and his perplexing schedule certainly explained the ghostly paleness of his complexion but a small voice in the back of your mind whispered that there was something else. Something that he was so deftly hiding from you that was just out of reach. Perhaps if you reached a little further, you could grasp the truth in your hands.
Such a moment came in the dead of night, the sky an abyssal pool of oblivion black with its smattering of stars. Even blanketed in darkness, you could just about make out the peak of Dragonspine looming in the heights of the horizon. It was truly a sight to behold under night's comforting silence. Still, as beautiful as the night's scenery was, you longed to be tucked away in bed and dreaming of far off places. But in spite of the tiredness clinging to your person, such respite still would not come. It was as though there was some pervasive force impeding your conscious thoughts, luring you toward the answer to a question you didn't realise you'd asked. Restlessness had you fumbling your way in the dark through the house, now much more accustomed to your walking aids as your ankle slowly healed. Silence consumed the manor, even more so than usual. The unsettling feeling accompanying the darkness soon ebbed at the faint glow from behind a closed door. Diluc was still awake. Not bothering to knock, you gently pushed the door into the kitchen open. Diluc was leaning against the counter, blood staining his clothes. Fear sank deep under your skin, propelling you close to him in an urgent need to ensure he was okay. Your walking aids were abandoned, your weight causing a dull throb in your ankle but that was of little importance. His coat had been tossed beside him, blood staining the beige material though it paled in comparison to the starkness of the deep crimson against the crisp white of his linen shirt.
"What happened. Are you okay?" Your words were frantic, worry and concern taking over ever rational thought in your body. Your shaking hands fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, only able to unfasten two before Diluc's hand covered them. The porcelain of his chest revealed no sign of injury. But the blood must have come from somewhere. He placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch gentle and any trace of his initial alarm fading away into acceptance for the situation he now found himself in.
"I'm fine. The blood isn't mine. You should be more concerned for that ankle. I am not worth risking yourself over." He stepped out of your grasp to retrieve what you had forgotten, only speaking again once you had taken the weight off your injury. Looking into his eyes, you thought there was something like regret there, as though he'd made some grievous mistake that had finally caught up on him.
"What do you mean it isn't yours? Whose is it? Where have you even been this late at night. Diluc, I—I don't understand what's going on here."
He was quiet, hesitance clinging to the crease in his brow as he weighed his options. "That is not your concern. My business is my own."
"Not my concern? I have put my trust in you. Stayed in your home when I had no other choice. I have put my life in your hands and suddenly your whereabouts are not my concern? Surely you are not so brazen as to think I would accept that?"
"It isn't so simple—"
"No, Diluc. No. I'm not accepting that. I've overlooked a lot of strangeness going on here and I think I'm due some kind of explanation. You barely seem to sleep, you never eat around me, you seem to be awake at all hours. Then you leave in the middle of the night and come home covered in blood that you claim isn't your own. What are you, some sort of vampire?" You had intended your final comment as an incredulous joke to demonstrate the absurdity of all that seemed to be going on at Dawn Winery. Yet, Diluc's expression turned dark as if some deplorable secret had been unearthed and laid bare in the candlelit glow of the kitchen.
"Diluc. Now is not the time for morbid jokes."
"I have never been more serious." His face certainly seemed to reflect his words.
A mangled concoction of confusion and fear bubbled its way up to your throat, stealing any and all words that might have tried to leave. Surely not. Surely this was all some elaborate joke Diluc was pulling and he was about to laugh it off and assure you that all this talk of vampires was nonsensical. But he didn't. He remained quiet and stoic, waiting for you to make the next move.
"But...No...What?" The world felt as though it was shifting around you as every moment of your time with Diluc replayed in your mind's eye. Diluc's apparent confession to being a vampire certainly explained a lot of things, but how could it be true? Vampires were in books and children's tales, not real life. Yet, it was also the only plausible and logical explanation for Diluc's bizarre living situation.
"I need a moment. A few moments, actually. Sorry. This is a lot of take in."
Diluc laid a reassuring hand on your wrist. "Please, take some rest. But know that I do not wish your harm, nor do I wish to take advantage of this situation. You may not believe this right now, but you can trust me."
You offered a meek nod, taking your leave of the kitchen to return to your own room and let sleep carry you away. You wanted to believe his words. A small part of you did. But a larger part was overwhelmed by it all. Vampires truly existed? Was this why Diluc lived alone in the manor? To hide his secret and keep innocent bystanders from harm? But then, how did he sustain himself? In all the stories, vampires did not eat as humans did. A shudder shot through you at the thought before your eyelids grew heavy and sleep finally washed over you.
Over the coming days, Diluc kept his distance. It was evident he was waiting for you to initiate conversation, letting you come to terms with the revelation of his vampiric status. It somehow felt as though it were both real and a fabrication of Diluc's invention. Still, even if it didn't feel entirely real, you missed Diluc's companionship. In the time you'd spent living with him, you'd grown fond of the man and that fact had not changed. So you tentatively took those extra steps to return to normality. You would take a seat beside him, bringing up some story of your time growing up to which Diluc would respond with a story of his own. Somehow it was as if a barrier had come down. The restraint and caution of secrecy that once shackled Diluc was no longer present, so now he could indulge in stories of his childhood, his former self. He was far from an open book, of course, but there was something softer about the way he spoke. As if he finally felt comfortable. As if he no longer had to hide who he was. He would answer your questions, entertaining the fantastical stereotypes with teasing remarks. It wasn't long before things felt normal again, or rather, felt better than normal. He no longer felt out of reach, but rather like someone you could bond with on a much deeper level. It was nice. There was still much about Diluc that remained a total mystery, but more so than ever you hoped to crack what remained of his exterior. Even if it took weeks, months, however long Diluc needed to shed what remained of his apprehensions. Thoughts of what might happen once your ankle fully healed were a muted whisper in the back of your mind, so miniscule you'd barely even considered that future. Living in the present was so much more exciting, after all.
One evening you and Diluc were sat together before the crackling warmth of the fireplace. The sun had long since set and the only light in the room was that of the fire and the candles dotted about the room. A gentle cosiness wrapped like a blanket around you, leaving you content and satisfied. Diluc was reading from a book he'd bought while out earlier that day. He'd been doing some business related to the Winery, though had spared you of the boring details that came with manufacturing and distributing wines. Diluc had told you of the tavern his family used to run and the commerce that made it flourish but upon his becoming a vampire he lost almost all interest in keeping the business running. He'd sold the place off to the highest bidder and become somewhat of a recluse in the manor, only keeping the supply of wine going so as not to rouse attention from the city folk. It was a quiet existence he'd sought out and a quiet existence he'd received in return.
"Can I ask a question?"
Diluc didn't lift an eye from his page as he answered, "You just did."
Huffing a sigh, you moved to lower his book and force his attention on you. "Your jokes are as dull as your taste in literature. But I'm going to take that as a yes. How averse are you to answering questions about how vampires, um, feed?"
"Don't tell me you're getting ideas." Diluc's voice rang with amusement, but he placed the book down to give you his full attention. "I'm afraid I can't answer as in-depth as you might like. I've never met another vampire. The one who created me barely stuck around long enough to witness my full transformation let alone answer any questions I might have had."
"Then, how does it work? Do you use human vessels or...?"
"Vessels? You make it sound as though I have some poor human sequestered to my basement for regular mealtimes."
"I don't know how it works, maybe you do. Who knows what you get up to in the dead of night."
Diluc's laugh was melodic, his head tipping back into the cushion of the sofa, his hair spilling like wildfire. "No human vessels. I actually make a point not to drink human blood. Not unless absolutely necessary." Diluc paused for a moment, sensing your earnest desire to pry further. He sighed, preparing himself to lay bare parts of himself he'd kept locked away from all eyes—except yours. "Not long after I was turned, I learned that drinking the blood of animals was enough to keep the agony of hunger at bay. It does not satiate like human blood does, but it is enough to sustain oneself for a good long while. I enjoy it that way."
"Have you ever drank from a human before?"
"Yes. Only a few times. The first, I would rather not discuss. It was a moment of blinded thirst that consumed every rational thought and bone in my body. I had no control and did things I wish to forget. Since then I have restrained as much as my body will allow." His eyes seemed to grow colder at the mention of his first taste of human blood, a distant echo of pain misting over the amber hue and turning them mute. He did not explain further, nor did he need to. There was a reason he had no family, and you could sense from the roiling anguish that it was not unconnected.
"Since then it has only been once or twice when I couldn't bare the pain any longer."
You edged a little closer, reaching a hand to cover his so that he knew you weren't afraid. The last thing you wanted was for him to back away from such a vulnerable state of being and recede into the iron shell he'd once donned. "Would you ever consider it? If someone were to offer?"
He shook his head. "I'm not sure that I could. It has always been this necessary evil so to indulge in a way that suggested a choice feels far too close. Too intimate." The way he whispered sent goosebumps shivering over your skin. The air was thick with a tension so palpable you swore you could see it. Could touch it. "I don't wish to forget that part of myself. It serves as a reminder of who I am—what I am. Dangerous. I am no longer human and I must live with that for the rest of eternity."
"Perhaps. But that does not mean you have committed some egregious sin for which you must atone. This was not your choice. You had this life thrust upon you with no warning nor guidance, Diluc. There is need to punish yourself for that."
His laugh was cold, lacking any respect or sympathy for himself. "You only think that way because you believe I am still human in some way. You claim I have committed no sin but you have not seen all that I have done."
"You're right, I haven't. But all of that history, both good and bad, only makes me more certain." You reached to turn Diluc's face toward you. He seemed withdrawn, full to the brim with self-hatred and contempt. An anger burned within him, but it was all directed inward; none of it was for you. "To become a vampire does not erase the human life you led. Nor does it eradicate the humanity that guides your every choice. If you were so soulless you wouldn't have taken me in and helped me. You would have carried me over your doorstep and stolen what life I had left. But you didn't."
"Saving one human is hardly atonement," Diluc scoffed, eyes raging at he stared at nothing. There was a pain so deep and dark it cleaved your heart in two. Partially for the turmoil that plagued Diluc's every step but also for the inability to soothe even a small fraction of that everlasting despair. There were years of tumultuous agony raging behind Diluc's eyes, a pain that you couldn't touch nor take away no matter how much you wished to. Words of comfort felt far too insignificant, yet what else could you offer? This was hardly your field of expertise. Though that did not stop your wandering hands from taking his in their hold, a physical reminder that you were there and you were not afraid. No matter how Diluc lamented for his lacking humanity, you had no intention to leave his side. Your touch managed to pull Diluc away from his spiralling thoughts, his eyes fixed on yours, all anguish and pain. Though there was a rising warmth the moment your eyes met his, as if he could hear all the words you hadn't said. Could sense exactly how much you wished to help him, comfort him, in the same way he had helped you. Perhaps it was all futile. Perhaps it meant little in the grand scheme of things. But that was a distant thought, utterly meaningless as you sat in silence with Diluc's gaze searing your skin. In all the time you'd been staying at Dawn Winery, you'd grown close with him but this felt different. A sparking energy flowed through each of you, an electric current passing through the point where your hands met. It was almost a little too much.
As if reading those thoughts, or perhaps hearing your heartbeat quicken, Diluc cleared his throat and broke off that eye contact, removing his hands from yours in the process. It was like a bucket of ice water had been thrown over you, reality finally coming into focus again leaving only the tingling remnants that were the memories of his hands touching yours. He mentioned something about it getting late—empty words to excuse himself. You could only half hear him bidding you a good night as he left for his room. Your heart pounded in your ears as you sat in contemplation. You had learned much of Diluc's past tonight, had peered into the vast depths of his inner thoughts. There was so much left unspoken yet it was enough to piece together what had happened to him and what he had done to culminate in the tragedy that seemed to shadow him. There was also something else that had shifted that night. The scorching feel of his eyes on yours and the electricity that his touch brought. It brought about feelings you couldn't quite fathom nor fully comprehend, but they also brought with them a sense of excitement—a sense of anticipation for what the future might bring.
The following evening you were leaving your room to fetch a pot of tea to accompany you as you prepared to settle down for the night. Even with your injury healing as well as it was, you still required the walking aids to keep the weight from erasing all your progress. You'd grown rather deft with them, able to walk at a decent pace about the manor. But in spite of your adept control over them, fate had something else in mind as you walked down the stairs and caught the carpet, sending you off balance and about to fall down the remaining few steps. You braced for the impact of the hard wood floors but it never came. Instead, a warm pair of arms wrapped around your frame, holding you up and against Diluc's sturdy body. His eyes flashed with alarm, sudden worry for your wellbeing spurring his actions and keeping you held tightly against him. Words evaded you, unable to tear your eyes away from Diluc's face. It seemed he was just as entranced with the way his gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips. No words were uttered and yet his thoughts were as clear as the morning sky. Suddenly his lips crashed to yours, his last piece of self-restraint falling away as he pulled you even closer. Your walking aids fell to the ground, rendered completely useless as Diluc held you in his arms. His lips were warm, soft, and utterly irresistible. All the scary stories about a vampire's thrall were true. Perhaps not in the way they were intended to be, but there was no denying the spell Diluc had you under. Not that he was entirely ready to admit it, but Diluc was just as bewitched by you. Your presence, your touch. All of it was enchanting to him. He believed himself entirely undeserving of it, but he was also selfish. Giving up such a divine act was unthinkable.
Then your lips parted, breaths heavy and heated as your eyes met again. It had been easy to miss the building tension that had grown over your time with Diluc, but now that it had come crumbling down the absence felt stark. Suddenly everything didn't feel quite so muted, as though you were seeing in colour for the first time. Despite the clarity of the world around you, your thoughts felt clouded and hazy, distracted by the way Diluc's lips had melded so perfectly over yours. Something like fear rose in his eyes, scared he may have overstepped a line or acted out of turn. He was soon soothed by the hand that brushed his cheek, guiding him back to your lips in a fleeting kiss. It was all the sign he needed to kiss you again, deeper this time, exploring all that you offered to him. Then his hands were sweeping you up into his hold, carrying you back up the stairs you'd just walked down. But he did not make to return you to your room and instead carried you into his own bedroom. Your heart raced with each step that Diluc took, never having been inside before, but his smile was warm and comforting, erasing any nerves that threatened to pull you out of this infinitely seraphic moment. He was gentle as he placed you down before climbing up beside you. His arms cradled around your body, warm and inviting as he held you close, his lips leaving gentle kisses at your temple.
"Your heart is beating so fast," he mused, voice barely audible above a whisper despite being the only two people in a sizable radius.
"Perhaps that is because I have just been ravished by a vampire who then carried me off to his bed." You couldn't help the teasing laughs at the way Diluc froze, suddenly realising how his actions might be interpreted. His hands left your body, which now felt cold in his absence, as he sat up and started to move away before you reached out for him and pulled him back down.
"No. Stay," you murmured, guiding his hands back to wrap around you.
His porcelain skin remained its usual pale shade, but you knew his face would be a blushing inferno if it were capable. He stumbled over his words, struggling to regain his composure. "You should know my intentions were only pure."
"I trust you. Regardless of your intentions, I am grateful to be here. Even if only because you feel so warm."
Diluc's laugh was a welcome sound. "Then please, feel free to use me as you see fit. So long as you stay here for the night."
"I think I can grant that request. Since you asked so nicely."
"I am forever indebted to you," he said before bringing his lips to yours again. Something about the way he so confidently moved was enthralling. Diluc had truly ensnared you in every way, though the same could be said about your own hold over him.
"In all my years I have never felt so whole. I don't think I realised just how lonely this place was. Or how lonely I was. Until you. Thank you."
Taken aback by his sudden confession, you hesitated a moment. His fingers toyed with yours, admiring the way your hand fit against his as he waited for you to speak. "Somehow it almost feels like destiny. As if the gods were waiting for the exact moment to lead me here."
"Whether it was some god-given blessing or merely lady luck on our side, I will be eternally grateful." Silence descended upon the two of you, comfortable and cosy as you lay in each other's hold. Time felt as though it had frozen, bestowing you the chance to bathe in this bliss for as long as you desired. It was only the growing tiredness that proved the world was still turning even as you remained there.
"You know," you spoke between sleepy yawns. "I've been wondering about something. Do vampires sleep?"
Diluc chuckled, a low hum that made your heart skip a beat. "We can, though we have no need. It isn't quite like your human slumbers, but rather a meditative rest that does little more than clear the mind for a time. We can take periods of rest, though they usually last weeks or months, sometimes even years. They are not needed quite so frequently, nor am in desperate need. Besides, I have a human to care for." He stroked a gentle finger against your cheek, his touch feather light as if he was scared he might shatter the serene moment with anything stronger.
"Hm, most interesting."
"You sound like you're conducting a study." Diluc made to tease you a little more until you yawned again, sleep desperately calling for you. "Close your eyes. I won't leave your side."
"Promise?"
"Promise," he replied as your consciousness waned and the most peaceful sleep you'd perhaps ever had washed over you.
That night was not the last you spent with Diluc. In fact, it soon became rare to be apart from him when you slept. His presence brought a soothing peace to your nights, allowing you to rest even more soundly. Since that first night he'd started to open up bit-by-bit, letting you in to even more of his previous life, including his family. A raw pain would cloud his face each time he told you of his brother, Kaeya, and the memories they shared as children running about the winery. But he no longer shied away from the pain that reopening those old wounds brought and instead kept it on display for you to witness. He wasn't scared anymore to have someone see him for all that he is and was; wasn't scared to let you see every piece of his past no matter how light or dark. His soul was yours to hold and cherish. Even when the inevitable night came for Diluc to divulge the single most tragic event of his life, he did not falter nor hide away from you.
The sun was long gone beyond the horizon, and the night grew cold. You and Diluc were lounging together, reading in comfortable silence before you retired to bed, when a thought struck you suddenly.
"Diluc, when was the last time you fed?" He'd been keeping to the manor a lot more than before, only leaving for short excursions to purchase food. Since choosing to spend your nights together, Diluc hadn't once left in the middle of the night to quench his thirst. Going a few days without drinking blood was no trouble, but it was fast approaching two weeks since he'd last done so—unless he'd magically snuck away without you noticing somehow.
"Ah, it was...some weeks ago. But you needn't worry." Some weeks? Had it somehow been even longer than you thought?
"Needn't worry? I know better than to trust that. Aren't you hungry? Thirsty? Whatever the right word is."
Diluc chuckled, lowering his book to one side as he reached a gentle hand to caress your cheek. "I'm surviving, aren't I?"
"Talk to me, Diluc. I'm here."
Something in Diluc's expression shifted, acceptance sinking in as he took your hands in his. This was something he had wanted to share for some time but could never find the words nor a moment that felt right. It seemed you'd given him the perfect opportunity to take one more step into his past.
"On the night you arrived here, after I made sure you were comfortable and sleeping, I left to find those Treasure Hoarders that attacked you. I don't know what came over me, really. But I couldn't let them walk away unharmed after what they did to you. I only intended to scare them off but got a little...carried away. Long story short that was my first human blood in decades. I try to refrain because every time it sends me back to memories of the first time." Diluc paused, a look of anguish passing over his features. You gently squeezed his hands, a warm reminder that you were there and you were listening. Always.
Diluc took a calming breath before continuing, "It was so long ago now yet it feels like only yesterday. I had just been turned and the agony was blinding. I barely knew who I was, just that I needed to satiate the scorching pain in my throat. There was nothing human about me then. Not as I tore this manor apart. And the people in it. Even my—" Diluc winced at the sound of the memory leaving his lips, his eyes falling on a black eyepatch sitting atop the mantel. This was the secret he'd buried so deep and now someone finally knew his most grievous sin. "By the time I finally regained any sense of who I was, it was too late. Far too late. It took months to stop seeing their blood on every surface of this place. I could barely live with myself but how do you kill a vampire? Granted eternal life at the cost of living with an all-consuming grief. In all honesty I'm surprised I can bear to say it aloud even now."
Words didn't feel enough in this moment. What Diluc told you had broken your heart into miniscule fractals. To think he had borne such a painful wound for so long with no sense of reprieve in sight. It required a strength few actually possessed. You slipped your hands out of Diluc's gentle grasp, moving to cup his cheeks, a thumb softly swiping away at a tear that trailed down his marble smooth skin. Diluc smiled, a raw vulnerability in his face that put together every shard of your heart that broke for the man before you.
"After I finally regained a grasp on myself I wanted nothing more than to run as far away from here as possible. I almost did. But I couldn't let the place fall to ruin. I couldn't let go of my human memories, if only to keep the people within them alive somewhere. So I stayed here, as hard as it was in the beginning. Kept the Winery business going as much as I could, sold the tavern my father owned in Mondstadt. Did what I could to find some sense of normalcy amongst it all. I'm sure if you went into the city you'd hear whispers of rumours. Luckily it's enough to keep curious humans from tempting fate and sneaking around the Winery grounds."
"You make it sound like you're some ghost haunting those that dare step foot anywhere near your home."
Diluc chuckled, his fingers absentmindedly trailing shapes over your arms. He was quiet for a moment, wanting to savour the foreign taste of serenity. He'd never thought he could find such peace in the form of another, yet here you were sitting there, as real as anything in this world. If it weren't for the feel of your skin under his fingertips, he might just be convinced that this were all an elaborate dream sequence.
"In those early years I was terrified some stray humans would venture too close and I'd lose control all over again. Over time it got easier as I figured out ways to deal with the thirst—ones that didn't require any sort of human involvement."
"Thank you for trusting me with this. My heart is breaking for all that you've been through, Diluc. I wish there was more I could do."
He shook his head. "You have already done so much for me. More than I could ever deserve."
You hushed Diluc with a finger over his lips. "None of that. You are worth far more than you realise. And that means no sacrificing your health. I know it's hard, but you can't hurt yourself, Diluc. You deserve to live."
"I know," he sighed. "But I blame you for making things so difficult. Wait, let me explain. After that first night I tried to justify what I'd done, deciding it was merely justice for the violence they'd inflicted. That I could return to my usual routine of hunting. I didn't account for the effect you would have on me, nor the aching desire to taste you. The last thing I wanted was for you to think I only took you in to be used as a meal. You're so much more than that to me, yet with each day that passes the urge to drink grows stronger and stronger."
Stunned, you stayed quiet as the admission sank in. Of all the things you'd expected to hear Diluc say, his desire to drink your blood was not one of them.
"Diluc," you whispered, barely audible in the silence of the manor. "Know that my opinion of you remains unchanging. Being a vampire does not make you any less human nor does it make me fear you. Please, don't hold back anymore." You edged closer to press the softest of kisses to his lips, feeling him respond in kind. Your cheeks were stained with tears to match Diluc's as if your bodies had reached an unfathomable synchronicity.
"I trust you. So please, take what you need from me. It's all for you."
Diluc didn't hesitate to lower his mouth to your neck, gentle with each press of his skin against yours. There was some trepidation in his actions, unsure and worried for what he might do. But if you could place your trust in him, could put your life in his hands then he had to trust himself. He kissed your neck, sending a shudder down your spine as he sank his teeth into the skin. The feeling was unlike any other you'd felt. His hold on you was secure, making you feel safe as an unrelenting wave of euphoria washed over you—no doubt a side effect to make the process more inviting to a vampire's prey. But you were not Diluc's prey, nor was he a threat to you. This was an intimate exchange between lovers, bonding in a way they could never go back from. As Diluc drank, you felt your hold on your sanity slipping. Hazy and drowning in the euphoric sensations, you tangled your fingers in Diluc's flaming hair. The sound he made was all shades of divine. Unable to hold back your own echoing sounds of satisfaction, Diluc lifted his head from your neck to gaze at you. His pupils were wide, the amber of his eyes deep and dark. Your chest heaved with every breath you took, reeling from the dulling waves of pleasure as Diluc's lips crashed against yours, a faint metallic tang on his tongue. His arms lifted you atop his lap, hands strong as they held you tightly in his grasp.
"And there was me thinking you could not become any more divine. The hold you have on my heart is beyond words, but know that I intend to cherish you for all of eternity."
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whumpshaped · 5 months
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guys whenever i post a prompt and in the tags u liken the behaviour to someone u know irl...... first of all im sending hugs second of all please let it stay a fantasy why do u think im writing abt it in the first place😭😭😭😭😭
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grimfantas · 2 years
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you can call me heartless all you'd like, but it won't bring her back and it won't help you heal.
#tails the fox#shadow the hedgehog#sonic x#based on a roleplay I had with my partner. who writes an extremely incredible shadow#I write my thoughts here because Sonic X ending has me terribly fucked up#considering how young tails is to be suffering from grief I bet it's especially difficult to handle a kid who has no clue how to process it#who had to make an extremely unfair choice to kill someone he loves. and then to take it out on his big brother#Taking out his anger and insisting on blaming someone for cosmo's death... it's very heartbreaking.#Imagining if Shadow had come back and Tails had not finished grieving yet. there already soooo much anguish#Exploring grief in art is very very fun but there is something so gutwrenching imagining someone so young have to figure out how to deal#with that. younger people often acting out and not realizing how unfair they are until time has passed and not understanding#multi faceted perspectives etc. I know its a bit odd to go crazy about osmething like this over Sonic X but something about Cosmo and Tails#just hit very hard and I care about them very much. tails is huge favorite. i care about him so much#I probably shouldn't dwell on the sad parts of sonic x too much but that last scene tails has with sonic stuck hard#Can't imagine how strained it might feels for the next few months. and Sonic just takes it. Can't even look at Tails or answer him. HMMMM#anyways im done being chatty in tags I will delete my thoughts later as per usual. hehe. Sorry <3#sonic
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radmista · 3 days
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Sowing seeds of discontent and disharmony by hanging up on my parents birthday phone call the second my mom asked if I gained weight. Hope that sits badly on their minds while they think about how that's the first call I've engaged with them in 2 months and it was for the dogs birthday. Dad scrambling to text me for my mom that she didn't mean it. Like fuck I told her I've been having a rough month and day. She couldn't keep it to herself that badly. Fucks sake
#was already not in a great place mentally but i entertained the call and was actually feeling okay talking to them giving them an update#she just hits me with that. and I'm not normally sensitive about my weight even when my mom harped on me for gaining some a few years back#i genuinely normally don't care bc I'm happy with myself. but i know ive lost weight because I've been on icu and we don't have time to eat#im so fucking mad and im even more mad I'm crying about it#bc what the fuck#i was actually feeling like momentarily safe talking to them and being vulnerable about working on my next life stages#and she just ruined the call. i wanted to talk to my mom and dad more. i do miss talking to them about some things.#i was happy to get to see my family all together even if it was for the dogs birthday. and people were smiling and shit#and ik theyre gonna say i ruined it by being sensitive but jfc#it was literally the 2nd thing my mom said to me on the call after we sang happy birthday#why couldn't she just shut up. why couldn't she have said anything else. why did i let it bother me so much i hung up#I'm just fucking tired and sad and now feeling even lonlier than ever#i just wanted a nice moment with my family god fucking damn is that too hard to ask for#and im even more angry and sad now that i cant call them back bc my mom will get on me about smth else we were previously talking about#that phone call was supposed to be a neutral zone just for the birthday song. and i was going to ride it out but fucking hell#why didnt i just put up with it so i could have talked to my family#and no calling them back isnt an option. they haven't apologized and it would be an un neutral call#which gives them space to harass me about work and shit
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booskwan · 6 days
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i'm not an aroha i never really have been but i heard about fly and now i am crying
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tobii-kadachii · 7 months
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I've been practicing drawing Diablos if you want to give that a try.
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Ohhh boy this one is. VERY funny. I got basically nothing right with this one which is honestly kind of hilarious considering I’ve fought Diablos a good amount. Definitely looks more like a cross between Nergigante and a sad, sad Rajang. Poor guy.
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lesbianlenas · 8 days
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i should be able to miss class due to supercorp disease that should be my constitutional right after fighting in the supercorp trenches. where are MY veteran’s benefits?
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