#the doubt and self loathing and the whiplash of hope

[azaracyy]

to the next stage of our adventure! digimon survive week 2024 day 7: post-game / future personal thoughts under the cut - less about the artwork and more about shuuji and lopmon themselves. a long rambling containing major spoilers and heavy topics. will cause whiplash. proceed with caution.

other than the fact this may be boring and long-winded, cw and tw: there will be mentions of self-harm and suicide. if these topics make you uncomfortable, please step back. if you're sure, then alright. i'm aware this is a weird place to ramble about shuuji and lopmon considering the notorious highlight of their story would match the themes of day 5 (villains) and day 6 (dark & loss) better. unfortunately (ironically?) i never planned to feature them for those days, so... pretty sure i'm not the only one feeling this, but when i discovered that a good part of the fandom seems to loathe shuuji with utmost passion, even after they claimed to have completed the game, i was confused. the way his death happened and (understanding) the cause made me uncomfortable for a while, but never drove me to the point of hate... once i recovered from the initial shock, what i felt towards him was more pity, then respect (on truthful route). i feel shuuji should have been one of the most appreciated characters in survive. yet it was the opposite that happened. (between you and me though, knowing there was this discourse with the fact digimon survive is a visual novel, i'm not that surprised it turned out this way...) from my point of view, lopmon evolving into wendimon then killing shuuji symbolizes suicide, the act of taking one's own life. it was the climax of shuuji's mental breakdown, leading him to basically self-destruct, causing damage to everyone around him and ultimately himself. lopmon evolved, just like he hoped. but failed to do it like other kemonogami partners (maintaining control of themselves and fending off enemies). the next and final outcome was death, through his own partner actually eating him alive too. it reminds me how when someone thought they have prepared well for something important yet it failed spectacularly, the devastation and frustration would eat them in the same way from inside. and they probably would for one second think, "i'm better off dead". the more i pondered about it, the more it hit home, so of course, the last thing i could do is hate him, when his struggles sound similar to my own - having to rely on consistent achievements to prove your value, to feel you are worth living and not a waste of resources. the part where shuuji went all abusive on lopmon felt like the equivalent of pushing yourself to the extreme to reach your goal, to the point of neglecting your own needs. it's like a student so absorbed in their study, sacrificing food and sleep, until their body eventually snaps and shuts down for good (...this in fact happened to one of the students at my previous workplace. she was in her last year of high school. life was just about to truly start for her when her classmate informed us of her sudden death). even in truthful route where shuuji and lopmon survive that point, things aren't immediately nice and easy for him. you can see that he still has self-doubts, and what i think is impostor's syndrome. he could be making a great contribution to the team and still put himself down for having done "nothing". i have found it interesting that artists and writers tend to be especially fond of shuuji. so perhaps it's not just the matter of one's upbringing - whether you were raised in a harsh, competitive environment and/or with family with (unreasonably) high standards so you can relate more easily to him - but also whether one can see just what every struggle shuuji and lopmon went through symbolizes shuuji's mental state. out of all survive characters, i think shuuji and lopmon pulled off this thing called "surviving" the hardest, no joke. which is why i almost always gravitate to drawing them happy because that's what they deserve :') after all this, what i also would like to say is, it's okay if a character makes you uncomfortable. it's okay if you hate a character. but never, ever bring down the character to people who like them or even consider them their favorite or comfort character. if you must, do it in your own space and only with like-minded people.

#digimon #digimon survive #shuuji kayama #lopmon #survive week #survive week 2024 #obligatory shuuji-focused post where i make myself go a bit ✨ extra ✨ #sorry for the long rambling tho i just thought i never had the chance to put this in words and this time i really want to do it #thanks for being patient with me :') #so i didnt manage to post for all days after all but i still have the ideas and sketches #if i ever finish them i will post and tag #if we have another survive week next year i hope i can actually prepare early so i could just schedule posts like a boss #then enjoy every submission without having to worry about finishing my next one #back to commissions starting tomorrow o7 updated my vgen listings recently so feel free to look around if you'd like #let's keep surviving y'alls #png

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love (Modern!Ivar x OC) Chapter 1

So I recently joined the Vikings fandom (better late than never, right?) and could not get this one-shot out of my head. This is my first time writing for Vikings and writing Ivar. Let me know what you think. 

Also a huge shout-out to @saritanotserena​ for helping me with the moodboard. You are the best, babe! 

Words: 4300

Warnings: mild swearing, mild sexual content, mild angst?

Series Masterlist

 "I'm going to get something to drink!" Kari yelled into the ear of her friend, Alana, hoping she could hear it over the deafening music blasting from the nearby speakers. 

 Alana nodded, ignoring the brunette in lieu of the man who had his hands on her hips and cock grinding against her ass. 

 Without waiting further, Kari squeezed her way through the crowd on the club's dance floor and towards where their table was. For the umpteenth time, she tried to tug down the short, skin-tight black dress over her thighs, unsuccessful in covering the vast amount of skin showing. Even if Alana told her it looked fine and to stop worrying, it still made her personally self-conscious. Right now, she would much rather be at her shared townhouse eating popcorn and binge watching a show or reading one of her new books, comfortable in yoga pants and a soft sweatshirt with preferably no bra. Definitely no bra if she had a choice. But no, she had used up all the valid excuses she could conjure and now had to pay the devil his dues. Or in this case, go out clubbing with her friends. 

 Quickly, she made her way to the table and plopped down in a chair, reaching for the bottled water she was smart enough to bring this time. She ignored the couple sticking their tongues down each other's throat on the other side of the table as she took a sip of the water. Yes, she had told Alana she needed a drink but mostly she just wanted a break. She never wore heels unless for special occasions and with all the dancing she had been forced to endure amongst the mass of sweaty bodies, her feet and ankles were killing her. 

 She peeked at her phone, seeing the late hour and wondering if she could use it as an excuse to leave. She knew her friends planned to stay longer, or leave soon with company for the night. Perhaps no one would notice if she snuck away, feigning exhaustion or some illness. 

 As if sensing her thoughts, a voice called out to her from the other side of the table. "Don't even think about it."

 Kari looked up, meeting the narrowed, brown eyes of her friend across the table from her. "Rach…."

 "No, don't you, 'Rach' me." She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at Kari. "I see you, and you are trying to figure out how to leave. It's not happening. You know the deal."

 "Please? It's getting late and there is no one here…"

 "Bullshit. Quite trying to make excuses. You agreed to the deal and you can't leave until you fulfill your side of the bargain and you bet your ass I'm watching." She leaned back against her boyfriend, brushing a few strands of blonde hair behind her ear. 

 Kari grumbled under her breath. "Doubt it. You've been trying to eat each other's faces the whole time."

 "What was that?"

 "Nothing."

 "What is the deal she agreed to?" Seth asked smugly, arms wrapped around Rachel's waist and laying soft kisses over her exposed shoulders and neck. 

 "Before Kari leaves tonight, she has to make-out with someone...and not just a quick peck either. Full. On. Snogging." Rachel answered with a mischievous glint in her eyes and a crooked smile. 

 Kari dropped her face in her hands, groaning. She knew there was a snowball's chance in hell that Rachel would have forgotten about what Kari reluctantly agreed to but still…. she had hoped. 

 Rachel continued speaking to Seth but Kari could feel those brown eyes on her. "She hasn't kissed anyone since her ex; so Alana, Jasmine and I decided that we needed to take matters into our own hands."

 "Her ex... shit, wasn't that like two years ago?"

 "Yep." Rachel popped the 'p' loudly. "Now, Kari, you get back on that dance floor and find someone or I will pick them out for you."

 Almost giving herself whiplash with how quickly she raised her head back up, Kari stared horrified at her friend. 

 "You know I would."

 "Shit…." Kari mumbled, fiddling with one of the diamond studs in her ear. If there was one ultimate truth in the world, it was that Kari did NOT want any of her friends picking out someone for her to make-out with. The thought alone made her shudder. To say they had different tastes was an understatement. Her friends seemed to prefer the big, Viking-looking, blonds that seemed to enjoy going outside and chopping down trees…. for fun. Her preference was for, well not that. She downed the rest of her water and stood up, tugging down her short dress once again. "I'm going to the bathroom."

 The blonde rolled her eyes. "Yeah, you better get back on the floor once you're done. We can be here all night if we need too."

 Kari scurried away without a response. She did not actually have to use the bathroom but used the excuse to check her makeup and hair...and hide…. possibly for the rest of the night. Hoping to kill even more time, she took the long way to the bathroom, pointedly looking at the floor to avoid encouraging anyone to approach her. 

 She stumbled past the short set of stairs leading up to the VIP section, silently cursing her heels. All she wanted to do was kick them off. It was becoming a miracle she had not face-planted yet. Making a mental note to never let Alana choose her attire again, she pressed on, moving down one of the half walls along the raised VIP section. 

 As if fate sensed her thinking about her loathed heels, it decided to do something about it. 

 Someone suddenly shoved into her, pushing past her on their way towards somewhere. All the brunette managed to catch a glimpse of was a long, blonde braid and a backless dress. The force was enough to lose her balance on the stupid heels and slam into the wall next to her, her momentum and gravity then yanked her towards the ground. Just as she thought she would at least fall to her knees or kiss the dirty floor, a strong hand grabbed her bare, upper arm, keeping her upright. 

 She staggered drunkenly for a moment, her hands automatically reaching out to grip the shirt of the person who magically appeared in front of her, and really saving her from utter humiliation. No exaggerations. At all. Utter. Humiliation. 

 Once her mind refocused on no longer falling to her demise, the first thing she noticed was that whoever was holding her was definitely a man. Not just because the person was taller than her, but the sheer size of the pecks underneath her fisted hands in his shirt and the broad shoulders were a dead giveaway. Even one handed, this person was holding her upright with ease. The second thing she noticed was his scent. Yes, she knew that thought was beyond creepy but her body decided to take notice. Not her fault. Obviously. She just got to enjoy the repercussions. Whatever cologne he was wearing, it should be illegal to wear out in public. It conjured images of a fire in a hearth, bourbon, hot sex under furs and debauchery. 

 In the next moment, she lifted her gaze, wanting - no, needing to know who this man was. To thank him for saving her. Of course. That was it. Yep. Not to sear his image into her brain to fantasize about later. Not at all.  

 As her eyes met his, any words of thanks died on her tongue. For whatever working brain cells she had left silenced under his gaze. Staring down at her was the most vivid, gorgeous and terrifying blue pair of eyes that both soothed and scorched under their allure. 

 He never spoke a word, just stared at her. His hand held onto her upper arm as if worried she was suddenly going to drop. 

 Later, she would blame it on the combination of his touch, that intense look in his gaze and his cologne that made her act irrationally. So, before her mind could convince her how stupid she was, how reckless this was, how outside of her normal behavior she was acting…

 ...she rose up slightly on her toes and kissed him. 

 His lips were surprisingly soft against hers but unmoving. Slowly she retracted, hurt by his inaction but honestly not surprised. It was probably for the best. This idea was a failure from the start. She did not even know the guy, he just saved her from falling. She should have said 'thank you' and walked away…. not…. not kissed him! Opening her eyes to meet his now painfully hardened gaze, it only confirmed her stupidity. Before she could apologize and retreat to hide away from the world for at least the next century, he spoke. 

 "Are you drunk?"

 His abrupt, harsh question startled her. Her answer tumbled out of her mouth before her mind could filter the proper response. 

 "What?...no, I've had like two drinks but that's it...wait. Oh gods! Was my kiss that bad? Shit. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll just...sorry." She tried to pull away from him, face flushed from embarrassment. What had she been thinking? This was why she never just made-out with random guys. Whatever self-esteem she had evaporated beneath his piercing gaze. Her ex had called her frigid but this….

 His hand tightened ever so slightly on her arm, not enough to hurt but to certainly impede her desire to run away. His eyes bored into hers as if trying to read all the secrets of her soul. It was now, caught in this trap of his gaze, that she noticed the predatory glint in his eyes. She wondered if this was what a rabbit felt like while staring down a wolf, too frightened to move away. Well in her case, she was probably more of a hamster than rabbit. At least rabbits were fast and could try to hide. A hamster had no ability to outrun or outsmart a wolf. And everything about him screamed predator. 

 "Come." He commanded, releasing her arm and took a step to the side. 

 "Wha...what?" 

 He cocked his head to the side slightly, eyes narrowing. "Come. I am not through with you."

 A sharp shiver ran down her spine at the severe scrutiny sent her way but for some reason found herself agreeing. "Ohhh….um, ok." Her friends had wanted her to make-out with someone right? 

 She followed him, carefully ogling him from behind. The nice button-down he wore only accentuated the broadness of his chest and shoulders, plus with the sleeves rolled up and those toned forearms on show, he could have easily been just walking out of a photoshoot for some fashion magazine. Even the dark wash jeans and white Adidas sneakers could not deter from his overall striking appearance. His dark hair was long on top and shaved on the sides, something she had never seen before but it gave him a serious look instead of it being comical. 

 Surprise coursed through her when he started up the few steps leading to the VIP section. Somewhere she had never been nor expected to go. Only people with money or connections were allowed to be in there. She wondered which one of the two he was. It was also now as she followed him that she happened to notice the slight limp in his gait which drew her attention to the braces around his legs. Her mind wandered with questions as to why he needed braces. Had he been in an accident recently? Or surgery? Should he even be up walking? 

 Once they ascended the few steps, passing the bouncer at the top of the stairs who only gave her a passing glance before returning his eyes to the rest of the club, she continued to trail him to a short 'L' shaped couch with a low table in front of it. There were short half walls around all of the arrangements giving the illusion of privacy for those seated on a couch. Glancing around quickly, she could hear laughter and see some heads over the partitions but no one seemed to have paid any attention to her and the stranger she followed. 

 The man dropped down unceremoniously onto the black leather couch, stretching his legs out in front of him. Immediately, his intimidating gaze turned on her and she could not help but thickly swallow at the pure wicked look that sent shivers down her spine. Without a word, he held his hand out, beckoning her closer. 

 For the rest of her life, she would always question why she moved closer, why she took his hand, why she let him slowly guide her to straddling his lap. 

 All she knew was in the moment….it felt right. 

 "Good girl." He breathed out; rough, calloused hands held her hips steady over him. His fingers skimmed the hemline of her dress, now indecently high, almost no longer even covering her ass. 

 Her rational side screamed at her, reminding her she never did this, that she did not know this man. That if her family ever found out, gods forbid, they would probably disown her and not care if it left her starving in the streets due to her wanton behavior. Though their opinions no longer truly mattered in her life. 

 But her emotional side softly whispered that for once, to just give in, to let someone else be in control, to revel in the pleasure his touch brought forth. To throw caution and fidelity to the wind and enjoy life for once before she locked away her heart again. 

 Tipping her head forward, she pressed her lips to his once again. Where he had been unresponsive to her prior kiss, this time his lips slammed against hers, dominating and controlling. It sucked the very air from her lungs. Right now though, he could happily own all the oxygen she ever needed if he continued to kiss her like this. His hands slid to grab her ass, coaxing her even closer and drawing a needy moan from her. As her mouth opened, his tongue slipped in to explore as if he owned it. He kissed as if he was making love to her mouth and giving her a hint of what he would be like in bed. 

 Eventually she yanked her mouth from his, chest heaving and desperate for air. His head dropped to her chest and she gasped when she felt his tongue traced the line of cleavage her dress exposed. 

 "Fuck, you taste amazing." He whispered, practically branding the words into her skin as his lips tasted her. Before she could move or question him, his tongue was back on her exposed skin. This time it slid up from the hint of the valley between her breasts up her chest and neck to end with him sucking just below her earlobe. A whine, or was it a purr, was all her brain could handle, so overwhelmed with sensations she had never experienced before. Sure she had been kissed before but it had never felt like this. It all felt so…. tame compared to what this man elicited out of her. As if her prior understanding of fire was only looking at a lit match; while now she could only stare, completely absorbed by the raging bonfire that threatened to touch the sky with its unending flames. 

 Her hands shifted from grasping his shoulders to keep her upright under his onslaught to gripping his face and forcing his lips back to hers. A heat continued to build in her belly, an inferno that she wanted to dive into without fear or care of being burned. Her hips ground against him, feeling his hardened length between her legs only spurred her on. 

 "Fuck, kitten, keep going. Ride my cock." He growled into her mouth. 

 Before she realized it, the waves of pleasure and heat she had been riding exploded. She ripped her mouth away from his, head thrown back in a silent scream. She could feel his mouth move back to her exposed skin, kissing and sucking as he continued to grind under her. Her mind felt shattered into a million pieces but instead of frightening her, she felt pure bliss. Eventually she came back down from her high, her mind whirling with what just happened. 

 "What…." She licked her lips, wondering why her mouth was suddenly so dry. "What, um, was that?"

 "What are you talking about?" He asked smugly as he placed open mouth kisses along her chest and neck, never stopping his ministrations. 

 "Um, that feeling… I just...wow…."

 He stopped to tilt his head slightly and meet her gaze. "Have you never had an orgasm before?"

 Her eyes widened as realization swarmed her. Hastily, she tried to scramble off his lap but one of his hands grabbed the back of her neck, while the other still gripped her hip, forcing her to remain on his lap. His eyes scoured her, pupils blown wide but it was the dark, heated look in them that caused a whimper to slip from her lips. 

 "You never have…" he murmured, in something between surprise and a dangerous, boyish glee. Mumbling something in a foreign language, his wicked gaze never released her from looking away. One of his fingers returned to tracing her cleavage, teasing her occasionally as it dipped between her breasts only to continue its path. She could feel the heat slowly building in her core again, but if it was due to his touch or the devious smirk he wore, she was unsure. Never more had she felt like prey being toyed with by a hungry predator. 

 "Are you a virgin, my pretty kitten? Mmm?" He asked in such a filthy voice, it should never be allowed outside of a bedroom. 

 She whined, "please…" 

 Agonizingly slow, he leaned closer to her once again, his mouth just hovering over hers with a mischievous smirk that proved he knew what he was doing to her. 

 "Kari!"

 She jerked at the unexpected calling of her name. Turning to look over her shoulder, she could see Rachel and Alana both standing next to the bouncer at the top of the steps into the VIP section. Rachel was staring her down while Alana's blue eyes bounced back and forth between Kari and the man under her. 

 "It's time to go." Rachel yelled at her over the loud music, still easily heard this far away. 

 Kari turned back to...to him. "I need to leave."

 He nuzzled the crook of her neck, brushing her hair out of the way, before whispering into her ear. His hands never relinquished their hold on her. "Answer my question first."

 "I... I need to go. I'm sorry. Please. I just…"

 His hand trailed around her neck so he could grip under her jaw, forcing her face back up to meet his. His vivid blue eyes covetous in their intensity. "Answer. Me." His breath ghosted over her lips. 

 "Yes." The single word came out in a just barely heard whisper. 

 A hesitation, a pause, as if both were frozen in the moment due to her confession. Then his mouth slanted over hers in a greedy kiss, as if claiming her through sheer willpower and his ardent touch. Unable to help herself, she moaned into the kiss. Her hands gripped his shirt as if clinging for her life.  

 "Stay." He whispered against her lips. 

 "I can't…"

 "I'll bring you home. We aren't finished yet." As if to emphasize his point, he rolled his hips under her, his hardened length pressing against her wet core. 

 "Please, I'm sorry. I want to stay, I promise. I've never…. I…. I just need to go. I'm sorry."

 Deliberately slow, his grip on her loosened. First the hand on her neck, his thumb caressed her pulse point before dropping next to him on the couch. The hand on her hip glided up her body leaving a trail of fire in its wake, up to her arm and down it to her hand still clutching his shirt. Gently, almost reverently, he entwined their fingers. His blue eyes stared into hers as he helped guide her off his lap to stand before him. The lust was still evident in his gaze but now she noticed something underneath, something hidden by the ferocity. Yet she could not name it. Though it made her want to pull his head to her chest and just hold him, let whatever the unnamed emotion there bleed from him and comfort him. 

 "KARI!"

 She jolted at the frantic call of her name, pulled away from gazing into his eyes. 

 "Can I see you again?" He quietly asked, running his thumb along the back of her hand.

 "I hope so." She smiled gently then stepped away, before she did something stupid like give the man her number. That would be too forward for her. Turning her back to the man, she walked towards her friends. 

 Once she reached them, Alana slipped her arm through hers and they started to follow Rachel down to the main floor. At the last second the brunette looked over her shoulder to glimpse him one more time. His elbows were on his knees, body leaned forward and eyes glued to her as if trying to commit everything about her to memory. 

 For the briefest of seconds when their eyes connected, his gorgeous blue meeting her blue-green, she considered returning to him. To see what happened next so she never would have to wonder. To try and label what lay behind the dangerous glint in his eyes that she glimpsed. 

 Then her steps brought her to the main floor and away from his piercing gaze. She was too much of a coward to give in and taste the forbidden fruit he so freely offered. Even if a part of her wanted too. Her family rules seared into her brain since birth would never allow her too. 

 Quickly, the three women headed towards the exit. Just before they reached it, Rachel directed them to a semi-secluded alcove. 

 "What the hell was that?" The angry blonde demanded, turning on Kari with a vengeance.

 "What?" 

 "No, don't you fucking 'what' me! We told you to make-out with someone, not plan on getting fucking murdered!"

 Kari almost stumbled back at the venom in Rachel's voice. Her eyes bounced back and forth between her friends, trying to understand what she obviously was missing. "What are you talking about? Murdered? He was nice…. I thought."

 "Nice? Oh, he was nice?" Rachel stared at her for a long moment in shock. With a huff, she pinched the bridge of her nose as she harshly asked her next question. "Do you have any idea who that was?"

 "Um, no... we...he didn't say his name." 

 "Gods, you are so stupid sometimes." 

 Alana cut in, before Rachel could continue to berate. Her doll-like face ranging in expressions from concern to pity and fear. "Kari," she spoke as if explaining a simple matter to a child, her blue eyes pleading and intent on her face, "that was Ivar."

 "Huh?" Kari stated, dumbly, mind not fully processing what that meant. 

 "You know…. Ivar Lothbrok…." Alana gave a pained smile, tugging on one of her large hoop earrings under her blonde, pixie cut,"....one of the sons of Ragnar Lothbrok."

 The sudden knowledge felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over her head, freezing any semblance of warmth she may still have carried from their interaction. "What? I didn't…. are you sure?" 

 "Well the braces on his crippled legs should have been a damn giveaway." Rachel practically snarled. 

 Alana spoke back up, laying her hand on Kari's shoulder. "I know you haven't been here long but the Lothbroks have a…. reputation…. especially Ivar, for being, well, um, brutal. We just want you to be safe." She sighed and peeked over at Rachel. "Let's get out of here. Everyone else is waiting outside."

 "Ok." Was all Kari could say as her mind whirled with this new information. She followed behind them like a lost puppy, too absorbed in her thoughts to pay attention to where they were going. She could faintly hear Rachel harshly muttering something under her breath as they continued. 

 She knew who the Lothbroks were but kept that information to herself. Honestly, she probably knew more about that family than her friends did. She had listened to her uncle curse them enough times she had grown to associate their surname with a one-way ticket to the gates of Hell. If mortal enemies were a thing, her family and the Lothbroks would be that. 

 Her thoughts though stayed focused on a pair of brilliant, piercing blue eyes, soft, dark hair and a voice that called something out in her. There certainly was an aura of danger that hung over him like a shadow of doom plus with the predatory, wicked glint in his eyes, Kari could understand what they meant by dangerous. It was the other look her mind continued to replay over and over. Now away from him, she could pinpoint what it was. Vulnerability. When he asked her to stay- in anyone else she might have mistaken it for begging- that confidence he wore as a mask slid away just for a moment and allowed her to peek underneath. No wonder she wanted to crawl into his lap and hold him close. A part of her yearned to turn around and rush back to him to do that very thing. But her feet kept moving, following her friends. 

 She was not stupid, naïve maybe but not stupid. They wanted her to stay away from him. She could read between the lines well enough. Though if she encountered him again, she was unsure if she would be able to stay away…. or would want too. 

#vikings #vikings fandom #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #modern ivar #ivar x ofc #ivars heathen army #ivar romance #modern!ivar #modern!ivar x oc #ivar the boneless #to call forth love #mzwrites

[loyally-unfaithful]

—; even if i am fooling myself, my feelings are true . (2)

word count: 2.9k

pairing: origami cyclone | ivan karelin / gn!reader

genre: hurt/comfort

summary: even if he was lying to you by pretending to be your lover, he told himself it was worth it. it made you happy. it helped you. he’s helping you. this ruse is only done in good faith. 

if it were to make you smile, if it were to help you brighten up, then all his lies and deceptions could be forgiven, he rationalised.

a/n: so yes, this fic is drastically different from what i usually do, because it's more dialogue heavy? i hope i nailed the kotetsu moral fagging,,,, and that the flashbacks aren't too confusing ;w;

eyeing his surroundings, ivan let his shoulders drop—he doesn’t really know whether it’s from exhaustion or melancholy; probably both.

the floor was quiet: devoid of the usual whirring machinery, animated banter, or even just the pitter patters that would point to the presence of another soul in the room. any signs of life. the floor was quiet, almost eerily so, though his tiredness and anxiety may have also played a part in this desolate atmosphere. all he could hear was his all-too-loud heartbeat thumping in his ear, pulsing in his head.

the blond sighed. he could’ve done without the migraine.

it seemed he was the last person in the gym, the other heroes having already gone home, though in hindsight that was to be expected. glancing at the wall mounted clock revealed that it was rather late in the evening. he must’ve lost track of time, he figured. don’t know how or when. probably got lost in his thoughts, at some point during break…? he forgot what he was doing. can’t recall what he was even thinking about in the first place.

he’s been rather dazed these few days.

« you’ve been out of it these few days. » blue rose had mentioned… at some point. the days just sort of blend in together. something about the lights being on but nobody’s home?

the hero was committed with his career. honestly, he was. his thoughts have just been preoccupied elsewhere these past few weeks…

probably just stress.

dejectedly, the blond plopped himself on a bench and exhaled deeply.

« that was a pretty incredible sigh. d’you have something on your mind? ivan jumped slightly, not expecting to be addressed. so he wasn’t alone… – oh, tiger-san… »

he considered the older man’s silent invitation with furrowed brows. he might as well, he thought, seeing as kotetsu was willing to listen. besides, his senior always seemed to know the solution to all his dilemmas; it would help him getting this off his chest.

« it’s… i’ve just been preoccupied with something… right! you, telling you the truth… where does he even begin explaining this to kotetsu? do you remember when i was assigned to visit patients at the sternbild general hospital? after that mess with maverick... – uh, you were paired with dragon kid during that charity campaign, right? kotetsu completed after a moment. ivan nodded in confirmation. – at the time we were just tasked to help the medical team where we could, and socialise with the patients. boost their spirit. you know, like delivering flowers and doing inventory. at some point we had to do some damage control after a visitor left rather violently. he paused. i saw them when they left, and it seemed that they must’ve had a pretty bad breakup or a big disagreement with… he decided it was best to just omit your name…  their partner. the blond kept his gaze down as he fiddled with his fingers. their partner was admitted in inpatient care, and they seemed pretty depressed after the incident. »

the second time ivan had met you was during his scheduled visits, and he had recognised you from that incident with the disorderly visitor. he remembered how despondent you were when he came to greet patients in your ward.

the blond distinctly remembers that day: dragon kid was told to visit those in the pediatric unit while he was to visit and cheer for those in the rehabilitation ward.

despite only briefly, you lit up when the hero visited you, accepting the flowers with a warm if forced smile. he noted that you didn’t do much of anything but look out your window absentmindedly or stare at the wall in front of you. it wasn’t like there was anyone else to interact with in your room, seeing as you had been lucky enough to get a single patient room, and you didn’t seem interested in turning the tv on anytime soon. you had just kept to yourself, preferring to just isolate yourself in your own sorrow. ivan doesn’t think that you ever went outside your room except during physical therapy, in which you were doing very little progress. he understands that one shouldn’t expect to progress very quickly or thrive immediately after the first session—seeing as he was in your place once, wheelchair bound after the failed infiltration in jake’s hideout—but you didn’t seem to improve much, if at all. the hero had grown worried for your condition and found himself visiting you a few more time during the campaign, hoping to be able to cheer you up by playing up his outgoing and enthusiastic persona—after all, if it weren’t for the other heroes’ unending support and encouragements lifting his spirits, he doubts he would’ve recovered as fast as he did. he hoped that he could make you happier, and in turn help you recover faster.

he hoped he could cheer you up, and it seemed like he did. just a little bit. though you returned to being morose shortly after, the young man’s presence brought a smile to your face and his shenanigans often made you chuckle. he had come to appreciate your laughter, and he hoped that they were all genuine. the thought of making you happier pushed him to continue visiting you every so often, and that was when you opened up to him, allowing him to learn more about you. even if he couldn’t divulge much about himself as origami cyclone, you had allowed yourself to speak freely with him. that was how he learnt things like how you had just recently been moved from the surgical unit to the rehabilitation ward and had to go through physical therapy before you could be discharged, how your favourite colour was green, how you were majoring in east asian studies, how your favourite animal was the fox. random trivia about you that he found endearing, details he committed to memory for reasons that were beyond him.

but he knows he was just a temporary distraction for you.

for some reason, he wanted to continue helping you get better. he wanted to see you happy.

the hero remembers his thoughts that day: that there had to be a way. a way to help you. help you feel better. if his lowly self couldn’t do it, then…?

 he remembers when he first stepped in as your former lover (after giving himself a lengthy encouragement to combat his nerves at the door), second guessing himself every step he took closer to your bed, where you had laid listlessly. how were you going to react? the blond hoped you’d take it well… but on second thought, you could’ve gotten angry. maybe you didn’t want to see him. after all, your former lover had wronged you. maybe your despondency had been due to self-loathing and not due to feeling their loss. it wouldn’t do any good if he had accidentally distressed you.

but it was too late to back away now… right?

ivan wasn’t surprised to find that the room remained as immaculate and undisturbed as the last time he had entered: the tv remained off, untouched stacks of books, wilted flowers and get-well-soon cards uncared for. ivan would even wager that your phone hadn’t moved from the same spot since he first met you and was just collecting dust.

the door clicked as it always did when he entered the room, but you had ignored the visitor to continue gazing placidly out the window. you remained lethargic. even as the footsteps got closer to you, you showed no indication that you acknowledged the presence.

even when he stood beside you, only centimetres away.

your clothes along with your undisturbed blanket, covering your lower half, were white, much like marble, while soft golden light bathed you. the way the fabric and tissues rippled gently, a testament of how little you had moved since he last saw you, the way they flowed and the way the golden sunlight gave it a brilliant lustre, gave you an ethereal nature.

like a sculpture of a beautiful sorrow.

alarmingly, were it not for the rising and falling of your chest, he would’ve assumed that you had passed.

thankfully, you hadn’t, and so with what little courage he had left, he finally spoke up.

« hey, i’m back… sorry i couldn’t get by sooner. »

almost like a switch had been flipped, your spiritless form breathed life and you quickly snapped to face the owner of a familiar voice. the instantaneous change in energy had caught him slightly off guard. ivan was worried you may have given yourself a whiplash, with how fast you had jolted upwards to look at him.

neither of you said a word, both of you too stunned to speak.

you had sat up, your body rigid as your hands rested uselessly on your lap. almost as if you’ve just observed a ghost, your eyes were wide and your mouth agape. not quite believing your eye, you continued to stare at him in disbelief and tried to find your words to convey all the thoughts racing in your head: happiness, anger, gratefulness, frustration, relief, hurt, shock. the blond wasn’t any better at making the first move, petrified in place, not knowing what to make of your reaction. were you happy to see him? did you want him to leave? he didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know if he should say anything in the first place in case his words may cause you more distress. ivan looked equally as stunned as you were, the tension making him instinctively draw his arms up.

the hero didn’t know what to do with himself: you were at an arm length away from him. what should he do? hold your hand? embrace you? should he even do anything?

« taylor?!! »

your voice was a hushed whisper, almost as if you were scared that your words would cause the mirage in front of you to disappear.

« you came back... ? your voice was quiet, not quite believing your eyes. is that really you? are you really back?! your voice soon picked up as you grew more assured that you weren’t dreaming. where were you? – i was… i had a lot going on and… he scrambled for an excuse but your actions cut him off. »

he didn’t know what he expected, but he wasn’t expecting you to reach out and embrace him tightly, your arms hooked along his waist as if you were holding onto a lifeline. the sudden display of affection made him tense up, but after a moment of hesitation he mustered the courage to wrap his own arms around you. you had clutched his shirt tightly as you buried your face in his chest, concealing your expression and muffling your voice. he was sure that you could have heard, felt, his heart thumping wildly—he hopes you don’t pay it any mind.

« i missed you so much… » you had said into his chest.

reluctantly peeling yourself off of him, you lifted your eyes to finally meet his and somehow the thought of making eye contact with you renewed his sense of anxiety. what if you found out? what if you knew? he remembers telling himself how it was impossible for you to find any differences between himself and the real taylor, but that didn’t ease his anxiety. you had cupped his cheek and he remembered how he tried to keep himself from freaking out. butterflies were running amok in his stomach: he often heard how it was supposed to be a fluttery sensation that one got when they were around their beloved, but surely it couldn’t be this unpleasant? his heart was racing and he couldn’t focus—this didn’t feel any different from his nervous breakdowns.

the main difference was the warmth on the side of his face. slowly, almost mechanically, ivan brought his hand up to place it atop your own. almost like it has always belonged there. he realised how soft your hands were, even with the callouses along your palm, and that he rather liked the feel of your skin on his. was your touch always this pleasant? he leaned into the contact, reveling in the warmth it stirred within him. the comfort he drew from it was worth the initial uneasiness he had experienced. despite his wildly beating heart and the lump in his throat, he allowed himself to relax enough to lean into your touch and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

« you could’v— you paused as your brows knit in slight confusion. you could’ve called or left a message... »

your voice had dropped as you said so. he remembers chalking it up to you being disappointed that he, or rather taylor, never contacted you after their disruptive exit. everything is ok. there was no way you could’ve found out. however, even as you move your thumb to caress his cheek, you continued to look sad. you weren’t exactly asking a question, though your jaw clenched as if you were trying to figure him out. ivan figured you were waiting for an explanation. would you believe him? the blond figured that his nervousness caused him to start seeing things, as he briefly imagined your eyes shining a bright azure. there wasn’t any reason for you to be suspicious of him. everything is ok. ivan shook it off and hoped his tone conveyed his repentance as he comforted you: « i- i’m really sorry i didn’t contact you sooner... i lost my phone and… »

you had a tight smile that seemed bittersweet as you shook your head. « it’s… it’s just water under the bridge... » ivan encountered a brief sense of loss as your fingers slipped away from his. you had retracted your hand and he remembered mourning the loss of your contact, hesitantly letting go of it, though he was happy enough to return the hug that you initiated once more. the renewed closeness allowed you to hide your face into the crook of his neck. « i’m just glad you’re here. »

he had hoped that he had made you happy that day.

were you relieved? suspicious? disheartened? he couldn’t discern the tone in which you said that.

though he would find out soon after.

« i continued visiting them for the rest of the campaign’s duration, to cheer them up. i wanted to help them get better and motivate them to continue with their physical therapy. so after it had ended i thought that it would help if i visited them… as their partner… ivan’s fidgeting stopped abruptly, waiting for the other hero’s response. – i see… the blond was uncomfortably aware of the eyes on him, and fought to keep his anxiety at bay. so you continued meeting them after the campaign had ended? the younger hero nodded to confirm once more. – how long... were you planning on visiting them as that person? »

ivan opened his mouth to answer, but immediately closed it back once he realised he didn’t actually have an answer. it dawned on him that he never made up his mind as to when and how he’d stop meeting you. the day after you were discharged? some time after? and how? by pretending to break up with you (though in a gentler fashion than how it actually happened)? just stop coming? that seemed much too cruel.

it’s true, he’d have to put an end to this soon: he couldn’t continue meeting you under this ruse. it would ultimately cause problems were the real taylor caught them or heard about them. besides, being a hero made this elaborate ploy even trickier to organise. the proof was right there: just recently he almost slipped.

« i’m sure i don’t know all the details so maybe i shouldn’t say, but i don’t think you should use your abilities this way. kotetsu continued. don’t you think it’s unfair to hide the truth from them? ivan flinches at the question. – i-i know that i’m just lying to them by pretending to be their ex… but i don’t know any other way to comfort them… for the most part, things have been going well: they’ve gotten much better and things have been well between us… despite. the blond frowns, knowing full well his words sound like nothing more than excuses to justify and keep pretending to be your ex. but truthfully, he had come to enjoy your company and was rather distraught at the thought of having to stop meeting you. – but if that were the case don’t you think they’d rather see you? the older hero queried. ivan just shook his head. you guys got along well so i’m sure they’d wanna meet you, not as their ex, not as a hero, but as yourself. – why would they? his purple eyes shifted, downcast. sure, as a hero i can pretend to be a better and more useful person than i actually am, like back at the hospital… but in reality i’m just a pathetic nobody. i’m not someone worth associating with... – you may have been wearing someone else’s face, but the person they’ve gotten closer to is you, isn’t it? you’re the person they enjoy spending time with, so even if you told them the truth, nothing about your relationship will change. kotetsu paused for a moment. there’s no way to tell what they’re thinking or how they’ll react, but the longer you keep it a secret the harder it will be to come clean. »

the older of the two turned to face his junior: « it’s okay to be scared, but that’s why you take action instead of pondering the what-ifs and should’ves. so you don’t regret it in the future.

they deserve to know, so you gotta face them. »

LIKE MY WORK? CONSIDER BUYING ME A COFFEE // CHECKING OUT MY MASTERLIST | LINKS CAN BE FOUND ON MY DESC

#origami cyclone #tiger & bunny #tiger and bunny #kotetsu t. kaburagi #ivan karelin x reader #t&b #falselywrites #i havent written in so long #i lost my touch #not that i had one to begin wiht sakdlfjak

[blaperile]

Homestuck Epilogues - Meat - Page 13 (Epilogue 2 Page 5)

#Homestuck #The Homestuck Epilogues #Meat #Epilogue Two #Vriska #Tavros #Meenah #John #Lord English

[fanfics-await-you]

The Death of Me (Part 1)

Prompt: Angsty Romantic Cliches I’m a Slut For by @quirk-y

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You and Steve are left to take down a mind-control scientist who is slowly enslaving the city. You defeat him but the price is higher than you could have ever imagined.

Tags: angst, death, blood

Notes: I fucking love dramatic irony. it just makes angst that extra level of painful. If Steve and Y/N weren’t head-over-heels dumbasses, this shit wouldn’t be happening. also, i seem to have a habit of abusing steve rogers??? which makes no sense because i just want my boy to have a happy ending??? yeah, definitely going to have to write him something nice soon

Word Count: 1,503

masterlist

Part 2

“I don’t think you should do this Steve. You need to get properly checked out before you go back into the fiel-“

“Y/N, I have to come! What’s the alternative? Leaving you by yourself to deal with this guy?!? No way! We’re a team. You know the rule, never leave your partner behind,” his smile is genuine but strained; his head is obviously still causing him trouble.

None of this does anything to comfort you, which Steve evidently picks up on as the smile drops almost instantly. He puts a hand on your arm, sending sparks of warmth coursing up your skin. You look away from him, partly to convey that you’re not convinced and partly to hide the blush creeping up your neck.

“I’m not saying that going in alone is the smartest plan, but we have no idea what that blast did to you! You’re still in pain- don’t try and lie to me, I know you too well for that… Here, let me do that. You’re going to end up looking like a mummy if you keep going like that,” laughter finds its way into your speech.

Steve, trying to prove that he was alright, was attempting to bandage the chemical burn that your current mission had left on his forehead in your last encounter. You were being honest about his appearance; layers of inexpertly placed gauzes and dressings were threatening to swallow the left side of his face.

“Now, if you don’t mind,” an uninvited smile sneaks onto your face, “I’m going to get rid of all this and start again.”

Steve doesn’t say anything but just leans forward and gives you a warm smile.

He’s going to be the death of me, I swear, if he keeps looking at me like that.

You gently remove the dressings from his skin and look at the mark that, despite his super-soldier healing, remains streaked with lines of silver like a human circuitboard. The burn does distress you. The scans that Friday presented were inconclusive, the information she can give is neither positive nor negative. This only further troubles you; with the remains of the Avengers scattered to the four winds, a little certainty would be nice. You jolt out of your thoughts as Steve’s soft fingers find your free hand.

“Y/N. I’m going to be fine. I promise that I’ll go see a doctor after this is all finished, but first we need to deal with this asshole before he hurts anyone else.” His tone is insistent and kind.

Realising that this really wasn’t a battle that you were going to win, you just huff and start to dress the mark. Steve closes his eyes and sits back in the chair with the ghost of a grin.

“Thank you, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

I swear to God, the absolute death of me.

———

“Y/N, can you please stop going places I can’t follow?!? Not everyone can teleport!!!” His hair is plastered with brick dust from the last wall he had demolished to keep pace with you.

“Sorry, should I have just stayed back with the zombies?!?!” The stress you feel is evident in your tone.

Close on your tail, a swarm of what you could only assume to be mind-controlled civilians swiftly followed. They plainly have no training but are fearless, pay no mind to anything less that a mortal wound and are armed with guns that seem capable of melting steel. You hope to God that you’re on the right track because both of you are starting to fatigue and neither of your suits will be able to survive much more damage.

—

Finally, you burst into a cavernous chamber filled with massive computers; arcs of artificial lightning dances across the ceiling.

“Well, I think we’re in the right place,” Steve gives you a side-eye and grin like you’re sharing an inside joke, not about to fight for your lives.

God, I love him so much.

You don’t know if it’s the absurdity of his comment, the adrenaline, the fear, the heat of the moment, or the sinking feeling that you weren’t going to survive this but something in you decides enough. Before he has a chance to catch his breath, you grab Steve by the front of his uniform and drag him behind a huge discarded scrap of metal.

The look in his eyes is unsure, hopeful, “Y/N, what are you doin-“

You cut him off by pushing him against the wall and taking his face in your hands.

It all comes out in a stumbling, stammering rush, “I don’t really know how to say this, Steve, but I have a really, really bad feeling about this mission and I- I just need to tell you! I need you to know! I love you, Steve. I’ve loved you for a long time but I’ve been afraid and I guess I’m not afraid anymore? Actually, that’s not true, I’m still very much af-“

He returns the favour by interrupting you with a hard, desperate kiss. You can taste the sweat and dirt of battle on him but it only makes you want him more. One hand on your waist, one on your neck, Steve pulls you flush against him. With your hands tangled in his hair, the feel of him touching you like this is intoxicating and like vertigo all at once. You know you need to let go but everything about him is addictive. The kiss is frantic and aching in a way that reminds you of a final goodbye.

Oh Christ, don’t think that.

Before you can stop yourself, you feel hot tears begin to trickle down your cheeks. You step back - in fear, humiliation, or self-loathing, you’re not sure. Before you can wipe away the offending drops, Steve’s hands find your face again. You don’t want to look at him but as his thumbs tenderly brush across your cheeks, you just can’t help it. To your surprise and dismay, Steve’s eyes are also full of tears yet to fall.

So he feels it too then.

“This is not the end, Y/N.” His gaze is unwavering and steady despite, well everything that’s happening. “This is not where we end up, alright?”

You respond with a last hungry, despairing kiss that lingers on your lips long after you part.

With that, exactly like a last adieu, you step away from each other and turn to face the mission at hand.

———

With blood pouring from cuts all over you and a chemical burn starting to form on your arm, it’s fair to say that you aren’t at your best. The glances you spare for Steve indicate he’s not much better off. However, despite everything, you are winning. The disfigured scientist’s shots are slowing and becoming increasingly more erratic. With a final throw of Steve’s shield, the man lets out a shriek as the force drives him into the concrete wall behind him. There’s a sickening crack that makes you think that he won’t be getting up from where he’s fallen. The taste of triumph bitter and metallic in your mouth, you walk towards the crumpled man. He’s still breathing but the gasps are wheezing and there’s a rattle deep in his throat. This brings you no joy but somewhere deep in your consciousness, you are glad that this is over and that you’ve both survived.

“Lay down your weapon. It’s over,” Steve’s voice is iron, more soldier than man.

The man looks up at you slowly with a bloodied, pained smile; something in your stomach instantly drops.

“I knew I could never beat you.” The words are raspy and muffled by the blood in his mouth. “However, I thought I could give you a parting gift, something you will always remember me by.”

Before either you or Steve can react, the man hits the device on his wrist. It starts to glow, with the word ‘kill’ and a countdown timer beginning to flash across the screen in psychedelic colours.

“It’s a bomb!” You grab Steve’s wrist and begin to run.

You almost pull your arm out of its socket from whiplash when he doesn’t budge an inch. You turn back and find Steve still staring at the scientist, his perfect face smooth and cold like marble. His eyes - always so full of mirth, nostalgia, grief, something - are empty. The seed of doubt in your stomach has taken root and is beginning to invade your lungs.

Maybe it isn’t a bomb.

“Steve?” Your desperation is as clear as day.

Nothing; not a twitch of muscle or any indication that he can hear you.

“Steve, you’re scaring me. Please, we need to g-“

You’re cut off by a backhand that sends you flying. Hitting the floor hard, you feel something in your ribs give. Scrambling to regain your feet, you can only look on in horror to see Steve advancing with nothing but blank reflection in his eyes.

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #fanfiction #reader #angst #marvel angst

[adarkroomandawallflower]

Vanilla & Moonlight (Peter Maximoff x Reader)

#i dont know what this is #it sounded better in my head #peter maximoff #quicksilver #warren worthington iii #angel #archangel #x men #x men apocalypse #x men imagine #idek #angsty stuff #evan peters #ben hardy

[abundantchewtoys]

HS Epi Meat, p13 reaction

I suppose it is time for John's therapy session. :p It'd be interesting seeing Rose do real one, not one stuffed with jabs and such. Though, it would hardly be a private conversation on account of all the jelling involved.

Sad to say that there is no way out of there for them, apart from the preordained timeline, it seems. It'd be nice if they could stick it to Paradox Space one more time. But the house seems to be more isolated from canon in such an extreme manner, in barring even retcon powers from being used.

If John started talking about his feelings and how he came by it, though, in a way that would mirror the first hours he had those retcon powers. Adrift on his personal timeline (though it also included other people's), steerless.

Also, I hope from their subjective viewpoint, it isn't quadrillions years before the four of them resurface, obviously. In fact, I hope it's mere hours.

And that John may fix his glasses, or realize he doesn't need them any more, like Spider-Man.

"> Be John again.

It seems as if you’re attempting to be John again, with the expectation that we might spend a little more quality time with him in his cubicle of misery and self-loathing. You guessed we might really start to unpack his depression issues. Get to the bottom of all that. Well, nice try." ... Pfff, what, is the house barred from us viewing it? Why then did we see the start of their captivity? ... Is it because they weren't yet banished to the Furthest Ring?

Well, the good news is that if that's the case, we're in for a time skip. The bad news is that we're once again skipping a salacious bit of plot, but well, it's the epilogues, not the everything-logues. (And Homestuck was already not that keen on showcasing every little tidbit of conversation & interaction, anyway. Leave some for the fan artists, ey?)

"John can’t be here right now, because he’s stuck somewhere in the harrowing nexus between canon, post-canon, non-canon, outside canon, and fanon." Pfffff, ah, so he's so very unstuck his state has started following the uncertainty principle. :p

"He also can’t be here right now because, for the time being, we’re done wasting our breath on such a sad loser." yeah right.

"It’s well overdue for the true hero of this tale to take center stage.

> Be Vriska."PFFFF XD WHAT. No way. Vriska??? She's taking the POV?? Well, I hadn't expected that.

Guess we're being post-retcon Vriska, since that's the Vriska still intent on relevance at all cost. Also, apparently it's a Vriska that would hold John in disdain now, if the narration is to believed. Guess it is because he's been slacking off for seven years.

I suppose we'll be her some time right before she went to confront Lord English? Or, you know, it could be we're being her as she's stuck in a stalemate with him, as the Furthest Ring is sucked into the Black Hole around them. Just before the house spits out the kids. If they're really in a stalemate, that'd be a nice mirror to how Aradia was stuck holding Bec Noir back for a while, in the troll session after her ascension.

Though I wonder about the things the humans can do once they're out. They're not any more equipped to handle an adult Caliborn than before, eggsword not withstanding. Unless their stay in the house juju gave them all retcon powers or other. I can see them whisking away Vriska & Davepetasprite^2 & Aradia (if they're near), to regroup and create a new plan of attack.

Even though it'd be nice if they're already capable of handling LE, just imagine Vriska's reaction to her ultimate weapon failing. :D

So, ready for self-indulgent, self-agrandizing megalomaniac monologuing? I guess we are.

"Lord English stands before you in all his time-eating, universe-ending glory."IT IS TIME. TIME TO SEE HOW THIS SCENE CONTINUED. I'm psyched. I suppose there won't be any dialogue with LE, he's pretty much refrained from talking to anyone except the Handmaid. Though a "GIRL. YOU THERE. GIRL." wouldn't be out of place right about now.

"now you’re presiding over a whole host of ghosts ready to throw themselves once more into the maw of this final battle." Ah, right. The army wasn't entirely evaporated by LE, it stands to reason almost every ghost joined the army, so the ones sucked into the Black Hole were probably ex-members.

"You know that this isn’t your battle to win, but you are definitely the sign of the tide turning." Well, what do you know, for once she doesn't see herself as the main girl. Guess she thinks of the house juju then as the real 'winner'? Not Alternate Calliope?

"you deployed the white, house-shaped juju from the red chest. It grew to an enormous size, slammed down on whatever was passing for the floor in this esoteric battle environment, and a door materialized on its surface."OH RIIIIIIGHT. The door! I remember now. So that's gotta be the way out for the four, right? I suppose there's going to be some magic bullshit involved, where every kid sees a door inside their own separate room appearing, it leading out to the same exit location, namely right there in the dreambubbles. So, wait, I'm confused, didn't the door like face LE? Guess we'll just put it on Vriska "stealing" a peek of that viewpoint while being safely on the other side, using Thief of Light powers.

"You now stand off to the side looking especially pleased with yourself, waiting for the legendary weapon to unload itself toward the hulking tyrant." ... Ah. She thought she could just sit back and let whatever's inside do the dirty work for her. Guess she's about to be enormously let down. :p Also, confused at adult John.

"You’ve now got two bitches of either gender at your side: your main girl Meenah, who you stole from that embarrassing past version of yourself that you owned so hard you bet she’s probably /still/ crying. And Tavros. Not just any random ghost copy of Tavros, of which there appear to be thousands. Your Tavros, specifically, who’s been pathetically trailing after you like a lost barkbeast since you showed up." Ah yes. This is really the Vriska way of thinking about the world. For one, it isn't actually /her/ Tavros, since this is his pre-retcon ghost, the one that was once part of Tavrisprite. So, like, it's (Tavros). For another, Meenah wasn't stolen, she came willingly, nor did (Vriska) in the end remain crying.

... Hmm, so if Vriska assumed this Tavros to be hers, did she think she killed Tavros again? On account of creating GCATavrosprite, who was very unstable last she knew?

"It looks to you like the complete obliteration of space and time, the end of all things, the disintegration of literally thousands of ghosts." So... Yeah, they're sitting this one out and letting the ghosts keep LE at bay until the house juju finishes unloading.

"And no doubt your admirers out there would love it if you described it all in painstaking detail, but you’re not an executionist. You just call it like you see it, and what you’re seeing right now is pretty awesome." Sorry admirers! Vriska's not an executionist. An executioner, sometimes, but not the other thing.

"Kind of an overworked character design, you think to yourself. If someone showed you a drawing like this on their FLARP sheet you’d probably be obligated to immediately kick their ass." I'd like to have seen that, though. Vriska talking some sense into Caliborn about his OC. :p

"There’s a lot going on, from his vein-popping muscles to his eight-ball eyes to his pirate leg and his ostentatiously bright, gold pimp cane." Oh, right, the eyes were stuck in 8-ball mode! We assumed it had to do with him having become vulnerable, but that remains to be seen. And, uh, didn't Spades Slick have his cane last we knew? ... Hmm. Weird. Then again, during Collide we saw the weapon getting duplicated through Terezi and Dave's fraymotif, let's say it glitched something else too.

"MEENAH: im goin back fin MEENAH: you comin vris VRISKA: Of course!!!!!!!! VRISKA: But give me a minute. VRISKA: I want to SEE." Ah, okay, they were catching their breath, is more like it. So, is Vriska waiting to see the house unload, or is it like Blaperile thinks, she wants to see Meenah in action? If the latter, we'd get some insight into what she sees in the mini Condesce. Also, whether it has any foundations for a stable relationship at all.

Gotta say, I don't think we saw Vriska & Meenah use a fraymotif together yet. Maybe now would have been appropriate.

"This is what you always felt you were destined for, somehow. Standing at the end of the universe and seeing how it all goes down." I thought that was what Aradia always wanted though. :p She'd hate that, the thought of having that in common with Megido.

"Tavros is clinging to your arm like a little crybaby, while crying, you assume" Meanwhile, (Tavros) is probably thinking he's bonding, or something. :/

"You crane back your neck and:

> Watch Lord English put a crack in reality." Hmm, I think he might be trying to crack this part of the Furthest Ring same as before, though. Wait, yeah, if he does that, that's the cue for his circle being completed, and then the Black Hole will come through!

"You thought maybe he’d do something stupid, like punch the sky with his gross, throbbing muscle arm? But all it takes for him to shatter the roof of existence is a single, ear-splitting roar." Yeah, LE roars to crack through dimensions, it's Superboy that throws punches.

"Get smashed in the head?

It was so fast and dark you didn’t see it—the shard of space-time that split off from above and hurtled toward you. Your body rocks back, whiplash fast, and you nearly keel over. You’re still standing though, and laughing." Guess it's a good thing she's so high up on her god tiers, I suppose.

"That’s what you were doing when Lord English put a split in the fabric of reality. You were /laughing/, not crying. It doesn’t hurt at all." Pffff, okay then. It would've been a humane gesture, but she doesn't acknowledge she's capable of it so neither will I.

"TAVROS: vRISKA,,, aRE YOU OKAY?" Well, I don't think getting knocked in the head could've made her any MORE unhinged.

"Your eyes spin. All eight of them." ... Right, her eight pupils. That must be a freaky field of vision she has.

"It’s not a big deal though. Just a scratch. It’s fine fine F8NE." Well, a confrontation with the limits of her own immortality has been long overdue, after all see how long it took (Vriska) to come to terms with it! Leave it to Vriska to engage full Black Knight mode when she's injured. "It's just a flesh wound!"

"Why is broken space-time so sharp? Like splintered obsidian. Feels like it barely grazed you, and yet..." I don't suppose this could be weaponized AGAINST LE some how, right? Just saying, we already have Space & Time player in the backstage, waiting to go. And a fraymotif that perhaps failed to kill Bec Noir but might still be able to do something on a Time player.

"Everything around you begins to spin, and you’re not sure if... you can’t /quite/..." Wow. She's going to pass out and miss the house unloading? Didn't see that coming!

"the broken-glass sound of the ceiling of space splitting into hundreds of shards of potentiality." So the Furthest Ring is an inherent well of potential, like Skaia? Guess that it's due to all the aspects being interlocked out there.

"You wipe your bloody hand on the leg of your jeans and sneer with rage. You won’t go down so easily." Psyche! Guess she's just mad now. The gloves might be coming off. Will she try to steal his luck first?

"VRISKA: You’re so intolera8le! I... I need to........ VRISKA: Tavros, g-go. Find... f8nd Meen8h." This. I like seeing that moment when Vriska falters, and learning about all the ways she reacts to it.

"you’re distracted by something in the corner of your glasses. Your Trollian alert is blinking. There’s a message from Terezi." Pffffffff, wait what?? Talk about interrupting an important moment to check your mail! Wait, but, this is probably Terezi post-victory, right? 2 years into Vriska's subjective future? Oh wait, right, Terezi also sent her a message right before her Mindy thing, I almost forgot. If my theory is correct, then Terezi forced her ultimate self from coming together in that instant. I wonder if afterwards, she has some words for Vriska. Words of advice, or words of the heart, now she knows all about the Game Over timeline. They were supposed to have become moirails, but it didn't seem like either was doing too good of a job of it, before.

"You suddenly wonder if it’s been years from her perspective, waiting for you to respond, given how time moves differently out here. Were you too preoccupied with your incredible heroic exploits to notice?" Well, at least it provokes some reflection into Vriska, thinking about Terezi. I'm kind of reminded of someone checking their Gmail after not having logged in for years, only to find messages of old friends that were never answered. That's a special kind of embarassment, even if you are technically blameless for not responding in time.

"keep both feet planted firmly... whoops." Did the cracks reach her underfooting?

"You try to regain your footing, but you realize you aren’t in danger of falling over." Well, she CAN fly, as a god tier.

"You understand what’s happening. It’s the black hole."DUN DUN DUNNNN. Can't escape such a paranatural cataclysm on fairy wings. There's suddenly something more dangerous than the time mobster on the battlefield!

"Your hand goes wide and your fingers close around empty space as you reach impotently toward the glowing symbol of everything you ever believed you were meant for." Eeesh, could it be she's actually going to get sucked in before anyone can get to her?? It seems the kids are supposed to be LET out, they can't exit themselves. It reminds of how Karkat was reaching for the door just as Bec Noir entered their session, just a moment too slow.

"Another black shard of space-time hurtling through the void. It collides with your chest, right at the place where your ribcage connects, and sends you spiraling ever faster toward the deep, dark maw of infinity." ... She's been hit right about were her Light symbol is, isn't she? Where in the Game Over timeline, Terezi stabbed through her back out her chest. Guess you can't run from some circumstances in Paradox Space.

I wonder though, if this could be the end for post-retcon Vriska? Wouldn't have thought it possible before, but she's in dire straights. But then, what? Game Over Vriska finding a way to access her memories, having another go in her stead? She's dead though, somehow I think ghosts are exempt from reaching ultimate self awareness, no matter how much they have been seen changing outwards and inwards from when they were alive. ... Well, to be fair, John still has that ring on him, that he's bound to be giving to someone, it could just as well be (Vriska)!

"A black hole is something not even a god tier player can survive, you suspect. And even if one could, you highly doubt there’d be any clawing your way out of its event horizon and back into relevance. Not this time." ... That WOULD be a highly efficient way to get rid of Lord English, if we can be certain he can't blast his way out.

"finally you lose all sense of composure. You flail, spin, and flip in helpless little circles like a bloody rag doll, and you begin to scream." Wow.

"> JOHN: Emerge from the juju." Uhmm. They're going to be just too late, right? Guess Vriska and John never really got their synchronization in order, it was just the same way for their planned d8.

But, if Vriska wouldn't be around, how would they even know the slightest bit of what's going on here from first sight. Can't see Meenah or Tavros sharing valuable tactical information.

Maybe John will go zap her out of need first. ANYHOW. Guess we're finally doing this!

"The first thing you hear is a tiny scream getting sucked into oblivion. The voice is familiar" ... Wow. That's. A harsh way to go for anyone. Guess Vriska managed to put all the pieces in place, though At the Price of Oblivion. Unless it's a dreambubble ghost he hears instead, this is Exit Vriska. I do wonder if even her memories can be saved from the black hole.

"It’s not just a crack in your ears. This crack goes all the way down your spine. You almost don’t react to it because it’s so familiar. Around you, a cacophony rises up like steam." Oh boy, are they under attack, or is the crack just the previous one LE started, further moving underneath their current footing?

"DAVE: oh shit DAVE: its really popping off out here" Well, that's one way to put it. :P Guess it might be time to, uh, "drop it like it's hot while the pimp's in the crib", Dave. Okay, and maybe John just has crack-fatigueness from having heard it in his dreams so many times before.

"You can’t see anything but big, bright smears all along the horizon. You fish the two halves of your broken glasses out of your pocket and hold them up to your face." This is so unheroic, and yet I feel for John in this moment. Needing glasses really sucks on occasion.

"You can feel it now. The moment reality yawns too wide and snaps in half." Le moment supreme is nearing. Though, to be fair John, your reality has already split, into Meat and Candy. :P

Now, as for Vriska. I don't suppose her death, if she dies from the experience, would have her see resurrected elsewhere in the dreambubbles? I mean, okay, I guess it wouldn't really count as heroic, since it's more like a death from natural causes, no matter how unnatural they are in actuality. So that would mean she just gets resurrected over, and over, and over... Eesh.

Is it bad that I have 'Remember Me' from Disney's Coco stuck in my head now? Cause it's basically all Vriska ever wanted, to be remembered for her greatness.

#homestuck #upd8 #reaction #spoiler alert #homestuck epilogues #homestuck liveblog #vriska serket #at the price of oblivion