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urdepressedslut · 1 year

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Scars of Your Soul | (ch. 2)

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Platonic!Claire Redfield x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and claire share a vulnerable moment, while you and Leon later prepare for the mission.

Warnings: angst, trauma, PTSD, panic attacks

(Y/N)'S POV

It wasn't the early mornings that made me so unsure of everything. It was the deep feeling of the black abyss growing in the center on my stomach, spreading to my chest, constricting me with its tentacles. Slowly it would take ahold of my arms and legs, numbing them with every second. My movements slow, and soon I'm paralyzed to myself as the fog creeps itself into my head.

It almost felt like no matter how hard I tried, no matter how many meditation sessions before bed. I always woke with a tainted mind. Filled with the same voices that followed me from the city.

Maybe I didn't know how to cope, maybe I was just stuck in the never ending stage of denial. I knew my family was dead, they were not coming back. So why couldn't I move on? It didn't feel fair that I had to carry this unwelcoming guilt on my back, physically draining me.

Things never happened the way I wanted them to. Of course Leon had found out everything about my family, and ever since then he's been trying so hard to reassure me and.. just be there I guess.

But it felt more like a chore he had to do, at least that's what I was sure of. I felt bad that he had to tiptoe around me, watch me like I was going to jump off a building the second he looks away.

Surely this wasn't a life he'd ever want, and I wasn't going to burden him with any of it. He'd told me back in the city that he didn't care, and he was going to be there for me for whatever, but.. He didn't deserve this.

I don't deserve him.

"—even know why she tries. I know her too well." Claire ended, making me feel bad that I had missed most of her words. I wasn't trying to ignore her, I just seemed more distracted than usual.

I nodded and stayed silent, hoping she wouldn't catch on that I had no idea what she was going on about.

"(Y/N)? You okay?" She asked playfully but knew there was always something going on in my mind.

I tried to push a laugh, but not even a chuckle passed through.

"Sorry.. just thinking." I told her, voice monotone.

"That's never good." She said, running her fingers through her hair.

"Trust me, if I could shut my mind down.. I would." I said, wanting that exact option.

She laughed at that, focusing on me again.

"You're gonna be okay, you know?" She started, focusing more on my upcoming mission. The one that did wonders for my nerves.

"Yeah. It's not all completely about the mission that I'm worried about." I told her truthfully, there was much more than just the mission.

She tilted her head but then soon after caught on to what I was trying to infer. She took a second to think of what to say.

"What's to worry about? You and Leon make a great team, you both helped bring justi—" Claire started but I interrupted her.

"We are distracted together. Instead of focusing on the mission, we worry too much about each other." I told her, and she listened patiently. "Especially last time, I slowed him down with all my whining."

"To be fair, you were dying.. actually you did die a couple times.." She said, wincing at her last words.

It still felt odd to talk about my death(s) like it was such a normal thing. It felt wrong, the fact that I cheated death multiple times while other people didn't get that extra chance.

It was a little like survivor's guilt, but there was something else tied to it. I couldn't think of it clearly, but the feeling always lingered every time the conversation was brought up.

"I just don't want anything bad to happen.." I told her, and she nodded immediately.

"I understand your concern, but I assure you.. you will be fi—"

"I meant Leon. I don't want anything bad to happen to him.. I wouldn't be able to live with myself." I finished and she didn't know exactly how to answer.

"(Y/N).. You're cured. You're not gonna hurt him. I know you're scared that you'll lose control but.. you won't." She told me so confidently, it confused me.

"How are you so sure?" I asked her, wanting her to be right but I grew so afraid of myself.

"I just know." She said, her lips closed and waiting for my response.

Before I could reply a voice sounded outside my room, stopping Claire and I's conversation.

"Miss (Y/L/N), your team is leaving in thirty." A random voice announced.

The tension filled my body, my back straightening. Zipping up my bag, I turned to Claire and walked over to her.

Surprising her slightly, I pulled her into a bone crushing hug. One that held built up emotions. Goodbyes weren't our thing, but I started to get that feeling that this may be our last time together. My gut ached, and I wished it wasn't true.

"I love you bud." I whispered and she tended at my words. Pulling back from the hug soon after and staring into my pain filled eyes.

Her eyes started to gloss over and she looked down. Pulling away from my arms, sniffling, she looked up at me.

"Don't do that. I'll see you soon." She said, trying to sound confident but her voice faltered.

Without another word she walked out, leaving me standing in the middle of my room. Thoughts going wild.. as always.

__________________

It was silent, air thick with tension as the van grew closer and closer to the supposedly infected village.

Leon stayed quiet as he looked outside, watching the trees pass by. Propping an arm up against the window, while he rested his cheek on his fist.

I couldn't help but take him in. For a second I didn't recognize him without his rookie cop gear on, instead he was wearing thick pants accompanied by combat boots. But what really caught my eye was the brown leather jacket that hid the black shirt that clung to his lean body. He looked... good.

He'd come so far as to adapting to this lifestyle, and I wondered if it bothered him like it did me. He wasn't afraid to show me how he was feeling, but I knew he was keeping a lot locked away. Was it for the sake of making sure I didn't worry?

"You look good Leon." I told him, breaking the thick silence. I noticed the two drivers in front tilting their heads back, obviously them ease-dropping. Nosy.

Leon turned his head, and slowly a smile formed. His cheeks reddening slightly from my compliment.

"You look better." He shot back, grabbing my hand closest to him and squeezing it, rubbing the back lightly.

For a moment everything felt at peace, maybe the last moment of peace before we entered the nightmare that was waiting for us.

LEON'S POV

I knew the (Y/N) gazing into my eyes wasn't the same girl I'd fallen for back in Raccoon City. But she was in there somewhere, and I'd learn to love her in anyway she presented herself as.

I wanted her to see that I wasn't going anywhere, that I'd wait forever for her. Now that I have experienced what living life with her around was like, I couldn't go back. She was my everything.. I'd continue to love her even if she walked away.

Pushing the thought away, I held her hands. Rubbing the back of her hand the way she liked, I know it helps calm her down.

"I'm serious, you look amazing. You've been working so hard.. I'm proud!" She told me, her eyes bright with pride. My face felt heated, and I knew from the look in her eyes that blush had spread over my cheeks.

I hated it, but she loved it.

"Thank you." I responded awkwardly, her compliments flustering me.

She sent a teasing smile over before shifting her gaze and body towards the window, watching the trees pass.

I couldn't help myself and begun to stare. Regardless of the trauma, she still looked angelic. Her beauty seemed unfit, the world being too ordinary for what she deserved.

She seemed to sense my stare and slowly locked her eyes with mine again.

She opened her mouth slightly before closing, like she was about to say something but had changed her mind. She started to lean forward instead, shocking me with the sudden action.

I watched her eyes lower to my lips and back up to my eyes, and I couldn't help but lower mine to her rosy lips.

Ever so slowly, our lips connected. Fitting the puzzle pieces together in perfect form. I raised a hand and carded my fingers through her hair, gently detangling any knots I felt.

My tongue darted out to swipe at her bottom lip, asking permission. With that she had gasped, breaking apart for breath, leaning her forehead against mine. Her hands were gripping my jacket with hunger, and it was then I noticed her shaking slightly.

Snapping me out of my lust, I pushed her hair from her eyes behind her ears, getting a better glimpse at her face.

"(Y/N)?" I whispered, wanting the two guys up front to keep up their random banter so that we could keep the little sliver of privacy.

She shook her head and gently grabbed my face with both her hands, forcing me to gaze into her glossy eyes. I was waiting for her to say something but it never came. She looked like she had so much to say, but was somehow being held back. I frowned at the internal battle I was watching on her face, it pained me.

Without any more words, I lifted my lips to her forehead and placed a kiss. Wishing that I could play a mantra over and over in her head that everything was going to be okay.

I loved her so much.

#leon kennedy #reader insert #resident evil #resident evil 4 #residentevil4remake #angst #fluff #trauma #ptsd flashbacks #panic attack #trauma bonding #claire redfield #unrequited romance

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cutieasmo · 2 years

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Seven

"Belphie!"

"Huh?"

"Belphie!"

"Y/N?"

"Belphie, please come out!"

"Y-Y/n?"

"Belphegor, wake up, the breakfast are up!"

"Shit!"

It feels so heavy these days, lack of sleeps and I also lost my appetite. Such as Beel, my twin brother. He lost his appetite and it's really feels so strange.

"Belphie...?"

"Ah? eh?"

"Belphie, are you good?"

"Nah, yeah I guess..."

"I'm worried, you know"

"I know, Beel, I'm sorry..."

He give me a frown expression, he knows how much I'm dreadful and depressed because he is my twin, he can easily read myself and so I am. We're twin after all, we can understand each other.

I miss sleeping everyday, but I guess that will never be the same as me again.

Why I had to lost them?

I just want to know, why?

I need an explanation at all.

the House of Lamentation is nothing but a depressed house, full of sadness. We've reached these stages of grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.

But I don't know where am I? I can't still accept the fact I had to lost them.

Y/N is the most important human for me. Besides Y/N is the human descedant of Lilith. I've already lost my younger sister, and another?

Why though? Why's this happening?

Ever since Y/N passed away. I couldn't sleep because I was thinking about them.

I can't control myself but letting my anger out. I went to the attic, to let out my anger through my heart.

You know what is the feeling of suffering about the death of someone?

They're not only the human I need but they're my lover because whenever Y/N is here I feel so safe.

That would never be happen again.

Y/N never tells me nor to anyone that they were having a sickness. I don't know what is this but Y/N said they've been suffering from a cancer. I felt my heart breaking when I heard that.

They cried infront of me, and while Y/N telling me about their sickness. I'm just speechless.

*flashback*

...

"Belphie, there's something I forgot to tell you..."

"Hm? what is it?"

"I don't know if I can tell you about this but will you be mad at me if I tell you?"

"Of course not, why would I?"

"It's a serious thing, honestly, I'm having a sickness that will never be cure."

"W-what?... what do you mean?"

"Give me your hand, Belphie."

"..."

"You can feel my heartbeat, right?"

"W-well... yeah"

"It'll stop soon"

"Y/N, I don't know if you're joking or what."

"I'm not joking, Belphie, I'm serious."

"Y/N, if you're pranking me stop."

"Belphie... It's neither a joke nor anything. I'm gonna die soon."

"I know, Y/N, you're a human but you're not gonna die and leave me alone. You're the only one I need beside me."

"I couldn't say no to you, but I'm not immortal like you, Belphie... if only I could love you without dying. I'm dying soon but I'm dying without any regrets. The life has brought me here in Devildom to meet you. Sadly, the cancer I'm having has no cure, so I'm not gonna live forever. I suffered about this sickness for more like 5 years. My white blood won and my red blood died."

"What?... Y/N? Please, what does that mean?"

"I'm having a blood cancer, or it also known in human realm as leukemia. There's no cure for it, Belphie."

"C-can I give you a new blood?"

"Belphie, no... even if you donate your blood to me. There's no other chance that'll cure my cancer."

"Y/N, I'm sorry, I don't know what I'm going to do... but I can't lost you, you know that!"

Belphie cried as you gave him a hug, you tears started to drip in your cheeks. You know it's too hard for him to accept it but there's no any choice.

"So Belphie, after the seven days my heart will stop beating but even if I die and my heart isn't beating anymore. Just always remember, that you're always in my heart whether it's beating or not."

"...Y/N..."

"I love you, Belphie, please spend the last week with me."

"I love you too, Y/N, and I'll always will."

Seven days has passed, when you died from your last days. Belphie was in the attic crying in his chest out.

"Belphie!"

"Shut up, I don't need any of you!"

"Belphie, please... listen to me."

"I don't need your fucking opinion, Lucifer."

"We're not here to argue with you!"

"No! *laughs* ever since Y/N is here I'm safe and feels so happy but like I said I'm gonna hate you all if I ever lost them!"

"Belphie-"

"I'm sorry, Beel but no!"

His brothers has no choice but to let out his anger. Lucifer was stressed out over his job and has no energy to do his paperworks when you passed away. Mammon is always staying in his room drinking demonus and crying over you. Leviathan is just laying in his bathtub, because you aren't there anymore to play with him. Satan felt guilty when you passed away, he hugged those books you gave him when it's his birthday. Asmodeus felt insecure and has no energy to do his daily skin care routine, since you're the only one who's helping him with it. Beelzebub has lost his appetite, just being dumbfounded nowhere after you passed away. And lastly, Belphegor, your one and only lover. For him, it's hard. His grief is making him want to die. Ever since you passed away, he couldn't sleep like he always used to do.

He has the most sorrowful feeling, feeling dreadful, has no motivation to live. He just want you beside him, hugging you while he's sleeping but it looks like it'll never happen anymore.

"Belphie..."

"Y/N?"

"Belphie, we're having a meeting"

"Not again..."

Whenever someone is calling his name, he always thought that it was you.

But it's just his hallucination.

He missed you so much.

One time he visited human realm with his brothers.

Whenever he sees your favourite place, he felt the pain in his heart, then he realized you weren't nowhere to be seen because you have died for like 7 years.

"Belphie, are you going somewhere?" Lucifer asks.

"Hm, yeah... I just wanted to visit someone."

Lucifer realized what he meant, so he let him go. Even though Belphie's hating Lucifer, he still cared about his younger brother. He knows what Belphie's feeling after you died.

...

"Hey, how are you? I hope you're fine. You know I can't sleep because I can't stop thinking about you...

It's been seven years since I've lost you, seven years when I endured without you by my side, almost seven years I experienced the pain I feel everyday. That time you left me, a lot has changed especially you are the only person I need when I'm sad. Everytime I look at your pictures, my tears can't be stopped and end up rolling down my cheeks.

I hope that when I sleep you'd be here next to me, and my arms are around your waist but maybe that'd just be a dream because I have no hope of being with you again. If you only knew how much I mourned your loss. I hope I could at least give you one last kiss before you leave me to the afterlife.

I miss you everyday that you're not in my arms, I'm so blue that I will never see your lips smiling again.

I'll always love you, Y/N, even after your death.

I have seven last words before I leave.

I love you always, see you, love."

#obey me belphegor #obey me x mc #obey me angst #obey me mc x belphie #obey me belphie #obey me oneshot

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coffeestainedcamera · 1 year

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I'll be coherent again in 5 business days. This episode simultaneously delivered what I wanted and emotionally devastated me. Spoilers below gif.

Like, hell yeah to Logan croaking. But let's be real, his grip on the rest of the family will persist beyond the grave. The kids, despite all the hurt he's inflicted upon them, still very blatantly aren't ready to let him go. Doesn't matter that it's the healthiest thing for them to do. It takes time and you spend ages questioning if cutting a cancerous tumor out of your life was right (source: had some horrible relatives, I don't know how they're doing now and they don't have my cell or address lol).

But the entire show is about this dance where the kids are trying to cut the tumor but always drop the scalpel, whether by themselves or because something hit their hands. And we see it this season again. They're trying to break away from Waystar/Royco, they're trying to pull a massive deal out from under papa dearest's nose, they're seeing each other in a karaoke bar, they're bracing for a wedding ceremony together...

And really, they've been expecting to continue the feud with papa dearest indefinitely, with a ceasefire for Connor's big day. It's what we, the audience, have been conditioned to expect, even as there were Logan's previous medical incidents right in front of us. He's the big villain, alongside the self-destructive coping mechanisms the kids developed due to him. I definitely was expecting him to have plot armor this time around as well, as it's not even the season finale.

But, welp, gone. I did always feel vaguely bad for the kids, even with all their horrible behavior, as they always seemed lonely and in chronic pain. Def wanted them to cut the tumor out, as that was the cure. But obv this tumor removal was conducted by a runaway chainsaw, not a scalpel in their hands. Of course they'll be in shock, grief, and denial. They still saw him as a part of their lives, even if they were trying to move on.

So, we've got Roman desperately wanting his dad's love one last time, never admitting he did anything wrong and staying in denial about the death right up until the stretcher. We've got Kendall telling him that he doesn't forgive him, but still wanting him to wake up. We've got Shiv losing the cool and disaffected facade, crying and wanting him back after trying to add rocket fuel to her siblings' get-away plan during the Hundred debacle. And Connor isn't even told what's going on until it's too late, allowed to just stick to the wedding and denied this goodbye.

Oh, and Greg isn't fully looped in again. And really, he's just an uncle to him. And Tom is freaking out about losing his protector and arguable idol.

It all really sums up their relationships to Logan.

#text post #television #succession spoilers #succession #hbo max

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malereader-inserts · 3 years

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Chamber of Reflection

Fandom: BBC Sherlock Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Male!Reader Summary: Oh dearest Sherlock, are you ready to move on? Word Count: 2,329 Warning: Blood and Death

“I don’t believe in love.”

You scoff out a laughter before turning to look at them, your smile dropped as you looked at them incredulously, “You’re kidding me right?”

“No?” They questioned back as if it was totally obvious because that’s how they were as a person, “I just don’t believe in love.”

“Impossible,” You shake your head, “Everyone believes in love, you, you’re different. You believe you don’t deserve love. That’s a whole different thing.”

Sherlock rolls his eyes, “Same thing.”

“Absolutely not, Sherlock,” You folded your arms over your chest, “Your mother loves you, that’s family love. John loves you, that’s platonic love. I love you.”

“What type of love is that?”

“Figure it out, smartass.”

He never really figured it out.

Sherlock was smart, but he’s dumb at the same time.

He could rattle your ear off with different topics that he was interested in. He could give you a rundown about who you are and he probably knew you better than you knew yourself. But, give him a topic on a basic thing - he’ll malfunction.

“The planets? Sherlock, surely you couldn’t have deleted that out your head.”

“You underestimate me, (Y/n).”

“Clearly,” You replied dryly, rolling your eyes, “But, I know you didn’t bring me here to talk about what basic stuff you’ve decided to ignore or have deleted from your so-called hardware.”

“At least you’re able to keep up with me,” Sherlock comments as you give yourself a little nod to the side as acknowledgement.

“Well, what is it?”

“Talk to me more about love, please.”

You narrow your eye at him, tilting your head to the side for a second, you were suspicious of his intention before sighing and tending to his question - after all, it is rare to have Sherlock say please, it’s not an opportunity to pass up.

“How desperate must you be for this information as you did say please.”

“Don’t mock me.”

“Alright,” you had your hands up in defence, “Well, love is different to each person and I can’t really help you that much Sherlock because it’s a learning process and it’ll be brutal. In a...somewhat good way.”

“That doesn’t explain anything at all!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head, “When you love someone, you just kinda know.”

“Right.”

“And...”

“Well, spit it out.”

You give him a soft smile, almost as if you knew something he didn’t know. Like you had to bit your tongue and refuse to tell him. He looks at your eyes, there is a glint of sadness, though he doesn’t comment on it as he allows you to speak.

“Love is going to ruin you someday, it doesn't matter if you don't believe in love, it doesn't matter if you think that you don't have the capacity to love someone, nothing matters. What matter is that one day you will fall in love and fall so hard that it will ruin you to the point that you will not be able to think correctly, to the point that your illness and cure both will be the love of your life, love will ruin you to the point you will look for sanity in insanity.”

“Back again so soon, Sherlock?”

He doesn’t answer you as he stands across from where you had claimed as your spot, you tilt your head in confusion at his silence, Sherlock loves to talk so why isn’t he talking.

“Must be a rough day then, ay Sherlock?” You continue to talk, “I don’t blame you, having a fight with your best friend and then your brother being annoying as ever - Mycroft just doesn’t shut up.”

“How do you know about my day, this is the first time I’ve seen you this week?” Sherlock questions.

You knitted your eyebrows together, your lips pursed together, as you give him room to think before interrupting.

“When will you come to the terms that you’re the one who killed me?”

At that moment, Sherlock stops. If a record of music was playing then it did the scratching halt. Sherlock looks over to your way, he didn’t realise that at some point he had stopped looking at you, you sat there with your arms crossed over your chest.

“You’re not dead.”

“Not in your mind palace, Sherlock,” You say, you look at your surrounding, “In here, I’m very much...alive.”

“You’re not dead,” Sherlock stammers out, blinking frantically, “You’re here, in front of me.”

You dismissed his words, “Funny, each time you come to talk to me, we’re in the same room you killed me in. I have to give you props, though, you really have memorised the room I died.”

“It was your house.”

“Yeah!” You snapped your finger and pointed to him, “You remembered, I’m slightly touched.”

“You can’t be dead.”

“And we’re back to denial,” You hummed, sitting comfortably on the edge of the sink, “Look around you Sherlock, you’re just blocking and deleting things out.”

“No, I am not.”

“Look at the blood, Sherlock.”

Your voice was firm as he shuts his eyes, hoping you had calm down because he could clearly hear anger behind the words you spat. Sherlock opens his eyes and there, he saw the full picture.

You sat on the sink of the kitchen, behind you were the windows and adjacent to your head was cabinets. Both were painted with the splatter of blood. He looked at your appearance, there was red upon your hands and your clothes...

Your clothes, every time he had visited you, you were still in the same clothes - he wouldn’t have mentioned anything to you about it, he knows from you and John that pointing stuff out can be offensive.

Your clothes, they were drenched in blood - your blood.

“Look me in the eyes, Sherlock, look at me.”

Sherlock doesn’t want to, he wants to rearrange the whole scenario and pretend that everything was rainbows and happy, yet he looked at you. He stared deep into your eyes and had to stop himself from gagging at the scene.

There was a bullet hole at your forehead, dried blood seems to drip from the wound when it was fresh.

“Don’t you remember Sherlock?” You asked, looking at him, “You killed, but at what cost?”

“I-”

“I mean, I know why you killed me, after all, I’m just living in your head so I get to know about what you’re thinking and all. But, I really want to hear it from your own mouth.”

Sherlock felt like he was stuck in this nightmare because essentially he was, he couldn’t just snap back into reality or wake up from his sleep. He felt like you had restraints on him and he’s unable to breakthrough.

“I killed you...” He murmurs as you lean forward, “I killed you because I loved you.”

You chuckled, softly, “Love, it makes you do real crazy things.”

See, Sherlock kept you in his head because you were important to him. You were his first and only love, you and Sherlock have known each other since primary school. You had been his only friend, even if he kept pushing you away.

You were the only one who could keep up with his smarts and his weird little thinking, but you were by his side - his first best friend. The man he loved. When the two of you got into high school, you and him were often seen together. You humanised Sherlock, back then he understood what it means to feel.

He was human back then, not this sociopathic man that he grew up to be. Sherlock loved you, just like you loved him. Even if you never really said anything out loud, he knew that you loved him with the way you grabbed him by his wrist and leading him away, it was the soft smile, gentle looks and caring words.

He wished he was able to spend a little longer being your boyfriend because you two managed fess up your feelings when you were eighteen. You were about to go to University, away from Sherlock. He wished he had mustered the courage to ask you to be his boyfriend years before.

“Sherlock, I’m not mad that you killed me.”

Sherlock snapped back into his room with you, you looked at him with the same caring eyes he grew up with, he tilts his head in confusion, he’s missing something in this memory - did he block it out or did he deleted it forever?

“They would have killed me anyway, I don’t have a life further than this Sherlock, both you and I know this,” He listens to your tender voice carefully, you’re no longer angry at him just angry that Sherlock refuses to move on, “You and I did it, Sherlock, you framed the murder perfectly on them.”

Them.

Who was them?

Sherlock looks at you before he hurled himself into the memory.

“You’re bleeding!”

“I’m quite aware of that Sherlock!”

Sherlock stands by the doorway of the kitchen, it’s messy as you sat on the sink, lifting your shirt to see the wound. You cringed, even Sherlock couldn’t remember what had happened to make you look like this and losing blood rapidly.

“You’re being remarkably calm about this.”

“Thanks, it’s the shock. Give me fifteen minutes, the screaming will happen,” You say, pulling your shirt down and you looking at your boyfriend.

“We need to take you to the hospital.”

“Absolutely not, Sherlock, if they found out I went there. They’ll kill me!”

“They’ll kill you either way!” Sherlock pressed on, “Please, there must be some other way.”

“You kill me,” You said almost immediately, you looked at him with sharp eyes.

“No, (Y/n), no, are you an idiot?” Sherlock hissed at you, “There is another way, we just have to think about it.”

“We don’t have time to think, Sherlock,” You admitted, “They kill me, they’ll hind the evidence and go live another day, free, do you want that for me?”

“Of course not!” Sherlock was offended that you would suggest that, “I can prove that they kill you, I can do it - you can trust me.”

“I trust you, Sher,” You say, desperate and lovingly, “But, wouldn’t it be better to frame them?”

Sherlock stood there, weighing out the pros and cons in your thinking. Perhaps it was clouded, his judgement as he sees you point out a gun on the kitchen table and reminding him to use a glove so they don’t pick up any of his fingerprints.

What was going through Sherlock’s mind? He wouldn’t be able to tell you, because when he aimed the gun at you there was no thought behind his eyes. You swallowed nervously.

“Hey, Sherlock?”

“Yes?”

“Just know I love you, and I will never hold it against you.”

“I know.”

“Sherlock?” He looks back at you, “Oh, good, you’re responsive.”

“I never said I love you.”

“Oh, Sherlock,” you laughed, he pretends that it didn’t slightly hurt him, “You think I didn’t know?”

Sherlock looked down then back up at you, you were back in clean clothes and the surrounding of your kitchen was clean. Though, you didn’t look phased.

“I mean-”

You raised an eyebrow, “You did at least frame them right? My parents?”

Sherlock knitted his eyebrows, “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

Sherlock looks at you, watches you breathe in and out, there was a clear disappointment and you had stopped intensely watching him. You turn to look back at him, he was surprised to see you smile at him as you clapped your hand.

“Well, I’m not going to shy away from saying that I am disappointed, perhaps that’s why you blocked out the memory,” You spoke, crossing your arms.

“I can fix it!”

“Can you?”

“I made a name for myself, (Y/n), Mycroft can help me as well as Craig-”

“Greg-”

“Whatever, and we can finally bring you justice, maybe you could be at peace.”

“It’s not me that I’m concern for peace, Sherlock, you’re the one who keeps me alive in your mind palace,” You admitted as you lay down the reality of Sherlock, “It’s time to let me go. The question is: Are you ready?”

Mycroft comes knocking at the door, he was greeted by John.

“Sherlock is busy,” John says from his armchair as Mycroft enters without a proper invite.

Mycroft looks around the room before stopping at the bookshelves, a picture frame that was permanently situated as face down was now standing, showing the picture that was kept hidden from the world.

Mycroft makes his way towards it as John looks at him.

“Sherlock put it up yesterday, along with a new case.”

“Oh? Is that so?” Mycroft leered, softly smiling to himself, “What’s the case about?”

“The murder of (Y/n) (L/n), Sherlock is convinced that it wasn’t suicide, though I don’t know how he knows about the case, that was closed over a decade ago - at least that’s was Lestrade said.”

“Watson, do you know who is standing next to Sherlock in this picture?”

John looked at the picture, he could recognise Sherlock when he was younger. he still had the curls and bright blue eyes, standing straight up, next to him was a boy smiling and had his arm over the sociopath’s shoulder - though back then, you could hardly call Sherlock a sociopath.

“No?”

“That is (Y/n) (L/n),” Mycroft says as John’s eyebrow raised up, “He is the reason why Sherlock snapped and changed in his behaviour. His death caused Sherlock to lose his pathway.”

“He means a lot to Sherlock?”

“Well, he is the only person Sherlock truly love romantically. Perhaps the first and love of Sherlock.”

“Sherlock loved him?”

“He still does, it’s why he’s reopening this case because dear Watson, between us two and Sherlock. This is not a case to solve a murder, this is to frame someone of murder and we’re going to help him.”

#sherlock BBC #sherlock imagine #sherlock bbc imagine #sherlock holmes x male reader #x male reader #personal favourite

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wither-rose-circus · 3 years

Text

This is entirely @redwinterrises and by extension @3lsmp’s faults

[Trigger warnings for typical bad ending zombie au stuff and explicit descriptions of su*cidal thoughts/su*cide] this got kinda heavy ngl whoops

Deep down, they both knew it’d come to this. Stories like theirs don’t get happy endings. There were no government helicopters just in the nick of time, no magical cure discovered by the world's best scientists, no safe havens to travel across the world for. It was just them. It was just blood. It was just death.

Scar particularly reeked of death. His skin was ashen and peeling. His face was beginning to sink and one of his eyes had already glazed over. He was close, and it was Grian’s fault. Well, it was an accident, really, but Grian had been the one to cause it. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was denial, maybe it was both, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave Scar’s side after that.

His decision had caused quite the dispute. Martyn wanted to shoot Scar then and there. It was too dangerous to keep him around he wasn’t wrong. Grian just couldn’t let him do that, though. Thankfully, Ren was able to break them up. Unfortunately, he sided with Martyn. He always sided with Martyn. He had to go, for the good of their community, so Grian followed Scar.

He had promised he’d be safe. He had promised he’d be back. He did fulfill that promise, at least, if only to himself.

When Grian returned to check on them, to assure them he was still okay, his friends were . . . not. The abandoned apartment complex they had called their refuge was ransacked. There was no trace of anyone. Part of him hoped they had escaped. Part of him knew that wasn’t likely. He noticed the door to Martyn’s bedroom had been blocked off by shelves, chairs, and any furniture it seemed they could get their hands on, and he desperately wished he’d find someone in there.

The scene hit his nose before it hit his eyes. The thick smell of iron that had been trapped circulating in the room for who knew how long blew right into his face and made him gag. He instinctively bunched up his collar around his lower face. Grian had grown accustomed to the smell of rot after all these months, but it had been a while since he encountered any fresh bodies.

Ren and Martyn were lying together on the bed, each on one side, facing the other. Grian could have almost assumed they were asleep had it not been for their gaping wounds. Both had clearly been bitten, but what drew his attention were the holes. One was in Ren’s chest, the other in Martyn’s head. Martyn’s left hand was clasped in both of Ren’s, while his right was still loosely gripped around the source of the holes.

Grian didn’t touch anything in the room. It felt wrong to disturb them, like he’d be disturbing a scene someone had taken so long to paint. Instead, he pulled his sweater higher up his face, to shield himself more from the stench, certainly not to dry his eyes, and left empty handed.

Part of him wondered if his own ending would be so cinematic.

Knowing Scar didn’t have much time left, they simply wandered the city for a while. Eventually, they came across a building with an access ladder to the roof, so they decided to camp out there.

“D’ya think it’ll hurt?” Scar slurred a bit, resting his head on the slight lip of a balcony. He was beginning to lose more precise motor functions.

Grian’s throat tightened a bit at the question. He wasn’t sure if Scar even wanted him to answer. He just stared down at his own dangling feet, gripping the edge of the balcony with white knuckles.

“I’m not sure,” he spoke carefully, “I’ve never stuck around to see someone turn. I heard your brain just sort of. . . shuts off.” He paused before more cheerfully adding, “It’ll probably just feel like falling asleep.”

“I don’t mean that,” Scar lazily rolled his head over to face Grian, “I don’t wanna turn.”

Grian didn’t return his gaze. In fact, he kept his eyes steady on the street below. He won’t do it. He can’t do that.

“I’m not. . . gonna ask you to kill me or anything,” he quickly clarified, noting Grian’s tension, “I just. . . I don’t wanna hurt anyone. Even if I’m dead. Jus’ make sure I don’t. . . get back up, y’know?”

“I will.” It was curt, but Grian didn’t trust himself to keep his voice steady.

“Thanks. For everything, I mean. You didn’ have to stay with me.”

Grian finally mustered the courage to look back at Scar. He was smiling weakly, glossy, half lidded eyes looking up at him with a gentleness that made his heart ache. You did this to him. He didn’t deserve this. Scar closed his eyes and shakily extended his hand, resting it on top of Grian’s.

Before he could find the words to respond, Scar spoke up one last time, “I hope we see each other again. Somewhere better.”

“Yeah,” Grian couldn’t keep his voice from shaking any longer, “I’m sure we will.”

He waited for Scar’s chest to stop rising before a sob finally wrenched out of his own throat.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he regained enough of his senses to register the world around him, but the first thing he noticed was that the sun had set. They’d find him soon. He was alone, he didn’t have anyone to watch his back anymore. He couldn’t do this, not like this. What was the point of surviving if there was no one to come home to? He had long since given up hope on someone coming to rescue them all, he knew no one was ever coming for them, but that hadn’t mattered. All he had cared about was staying alive with his friends, his family. Now he was all alone. Now he had no reason to survive.

He pulled his sleeves down over his palms and patted his face dry. With his vision a bit clearer, he noticed Scar’s body twitching. Maybe a few days ago he would’ve had some spark of hope that his friend was still alive, but now all that was left was a cold, harsh reality. Scar was about to finish turning. When he had agreed to make sure Scar didn’t fully turn, he hadn’t exactly thought of how he’d do that. He considered letting Scar get up and maul him he deserved as much, but Scar wouldn’t have wanted that. After a moment of thought, he leaned forward and glanced down at the pavement below them. Surely not even a zombie could get back up from that.

He carefully hooked an arm around Scar the body’s waist and hoisted it onto the edge. With a quick push, it was sent limply tumbling down. Grian quickly snapped his hands over his ears so he didn’t have to hear the inevitable crunch. The sudden weight of the truth finally becoming reality nearly knocked him onto his knees. He was alone. He didn’t want to be alone. He couldn’t survive on his own. He had known this would happen, he knew he’d have to part with Scar, he was prepared for that, but he had at least thought he wouldn’t be left alone after he did.

If he were being honest, he really couldn’t survive on his own. They’d get to him eventually anyway, there wasn’t much of a point in prolonging the inevitable. Some nagging fragment of hope in the back of his head told him his friends would want him to live, but what did their opinions matter anymore, they were dead. They’d never know how his story ended.

With his conscience as silenced as he was going to get it, he stepped onto the balcony. He told Scar he’d stay by his side, after all. Maybe if he caught up, they really would see each other again. It’s all he had left to hope for. With one last deep breath, he closed his eyes, took a step, and followed Scar.

Stories like theirs don’t get happy endings. It’s just them. It’s just death.

#this was obviously meant to be Grian and scar centric #but I am contractually obligated to include Dogwarts angst in every 3rd life post I make #mcyt #3rd life smp #3rd life smp zombie au #goodtimeswithscar #Grian #inthelittlewood #rendog

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hannie-dul-set · 3 years

Text

DON’T THINK, JUST DO — na jaemin.

SUMMARY. an overthinker, a piece of advice, a sudden confession, and a subtle meltdown.

PAIRING. na jaemin x g.n. reader GENRE. high school! au, f2l, fluff, humor WARNINGS. swearing WORD COUNT. 1.6k TAGLIST. @danishmiilk @wownajaemin @leejunini @astroboy-lele @unknown5tar @yunoyeol @w0nni3wrld @charm-art @bat-shark-repellant @nct-writers @czennienet @neowritingsnet @kpopscape

NOTE. surprise LMAO take this quick fic that i wrote in a couple of hours after a bathroom apology for being mia this past week, for not keeping my promises, and for my further disappearance within the next few days/weeks because i am, quite frankly, about to mcfreaking die <3 enjoy.

Self study period. Eight in the morning. Everything was normal— seemingly normal— save for the empty spot beside you where your deskmate should be occupying, perhaps pestering you yet again about the importance of eating breakfast if he were here, but he wasn’t. It was odd.

He’s never been late before.

Saying that makes it sound like you were closely knitted with Na Jaemin, the present absentee and your deskmate for about three years, but you couldn’t admit that you were. You couldn’t admit that you weren’t, either. Still, even if you weren’t as bro with him like his members in the school’s dance team, or as involved in his personal troubles as his childhood best friend, but at least you’ve seen the kind of lunch he brings to school every single day for three straight years. That was probably enough to form some sort of bond— though trivial, maybe even feeble, but it was enough.

That was also enough for you to develop an unsurprising crush on him. Your self-awareness was annoying enough to throw away any ounce of denial.

Which was also why you were worrying over your head when he missed the first period, even more so when he arrived like a disheveled zombie midway through the second.

“Na Jaemin,” you greeted his tardy arrival with your eyebrows creasing in worry. He greeted you with a usual good morning and his usual smile— or so he attempted to. But that smile lasted for approximately 0.813 seconds before he fell onto his seat with a contorted groan. “What’s wrong? Are you sick? Did you practice too hard yesterday? Gosh, you should know better than to overdo it.”

Jaemin only whined when you reached out to pitifully caress his hair, his gaunt face and evident dark circles down buried in his arms. “I’m so tired.”

Dear lord, what happened to the model student that seemed to shine day in, day out despite his overly packed and strenuous schedule? You frowned, telling him that he should just sleep through the rest of the morning and you’d cover for him, but he rose from his slumped over position and waved you off.

“I can manage,” he gave you a tired smile. “I already missed a lot by being late.”

“You idiot, are you trying to die?” you huffed, snapping your attention off of him in annoyance. “Wait a minute, why does he look fine? Tsk. Lee Donghyuck were you slacking off while your team members were dancing to death?”

The man in question flinched, dropping his phone with a painful noise onto the table when you turned around and smacked a notebook onto his desk.

“Oi, what the fuck? What would you know when you weren’t even there?”

“Then why do you still look fresh while poor, tired Jaemin over here is—”

“It’s not that.”

You turned back around to the worn out voice beside you.

“I just didn’t get any sleep last night.”

To your surprise, Jaemin was the one who came to Donghyuck’s aid.

Donghyuck’s glare was enough to drill two gaping holes into your skill, and you simply bowed and gave him a sheepish grin in apology before switching your attention lanes back to Jaemin. Not the most embarrassing thing you’d ever done, but shameful all the same. “Then why didn’t you say so— anyway, that’s not the point. Did you stay up playing games again? Gosh, did Lee Jeno force you to rank with him? I swear, you guys should—”

“It’s kinda nice to see you worrying about me,” he chuckled, falling back down into his desk with his arms crossed and looking up at you with an invisible, fond grin. “But it’s not that either.”

Damn your stomach for suddenly deciding to stumble over at that insignificant gesture of his. He wasn’t even doing anything, but look at you. All of a sudden, guilt decided to gnaw at your conscience because while Na Jaemin was barely holding onto his consciousness, you were busy fawning over his charms despite the fatigue. You didn’t deserve to sit next to him.

“I was thinking.”

Your thoughts froze.

“About?”

“Things.”

“Like…?”

“Whether I should do this or not, whether I should just give up or not, whether I’m actually stupid or not...” Jaemin sighed, eyes closed in contemplation, or perhaps finally in drowsiness. You hoped that he’d just give in and sleep. “...those things.”

What could he have possibly been thinking about that the poor boy couldn’t even sleep? Whatever it was— cure that entirely. This was a crime. Maybe you shouldn’t confiscate his thermos of coffee later.

“Aish,” you raked your fingers through your hair, expelling an exasperated sigh. “Na Jaemin, as a professional overthinker, let me give you some professional advice—”

He perked up, eye now a little wider and looking at you in a swirl of interest and attentiveness.

“—don’t.”

And now confusion was thrown into the mix.

“You see, it’s an endless, torturous cycle with the only endgame being regret. You believe that you’re only gonna mull it over for a mere moment, weigh your pros and cons, and come up with a decision after a few minutes of thinking—” you breathed it sharply, shaking your head in faux dismay. “—but the ‘what if’s’ come around and before you know it, it’s already five in the fucking morning and you have to go to school in a few hours looking like a contaminated corpse.”

Jaemin blinked his sunken eyes at you. He wasn’t sure what to say, but somehow your speech full of vigor, confidence, and a ridiculous form of charisma drew out all the exhaustion from his veins. He buried his face back into his arms to avoid looking at you.

“Right?”

He pressed his lips together to prevent a smile from forming too wide, but you wouldn’t be able to see, anyway. “Right, you’re right,” but maybe you could hear it in the tone of his muffled voice.

You grinned, proudly nodding to yourself at his affirmation. “Which is why, before you end up following me into this hidden circle of hell— you should just stop. Don’t think. Fuck impulse control. There’s no time to regret when you’ve already done it. It’s not easy. Absolutely not. But it’s better to just get it over with and deal with the consequences after rather than living in an endless loop. So repeat after me— don’t think.”

Slowly, Jaemin peeked out from his huddled position, sitting up straight and looking right at you.

“Don’t think.”

“Just do.”

“Perfect! You got it,” you beamed. “Don’t think, just do, okay? I believe in you, Jaemin.”

The advice that was haphazardly spilling from your lips was seemingly a bit crooked in nature— arguably so— but he seemed to be genuinely considering it. Jaemin was silent for a moment, blanking out at the rows in front of the both of you before he softly spoke up, eyebrows scrunched together, his head cocking to the side.

“Should I...?”

“Yeah, definitely! You don’t have anything to lose if you do it, right?” he spared another moment of consideration, and you kept going. “...whatever it is— but that doesn’t matter, just do it. If you do, you wouldn’t lose another night of sleep because of it.”

Self study period went on as is, but luckily you two weren’t the only ones not studying. You left him alone to rest and think about it more while you scribbled down answers for an assignment that was due later— highly contradictory to your suggestion of not thinking, but all was released when you heard Jaemin drop his pen to the table, followed after by a long, deep sigh.

“Alright.”

A bright smile overtook you as you busied yourself with the assignment.

“I like you.”

That smile disappeared with a loud and violent cough.

Oh, what the fuck.

“You told me to just do it, so there, I just did it. I like you,” he yawned as he melted into his books, peering over to look at the utter shock and disbelief in your frozen expression. Jaemin had to hold back a laugh. “You don’t have to follow your own advice— take as much time as you need— but I don’t want you losing sleep over me just as I did over you.”

With that, he decided that this was the best fucking time to finally disappear into sleep. You wanted to scream— the feeling of your throat twisting over itself with the indignant desire to squeeze out something, but there was sharp heat at every breath that prevented you from doing so.

You settled for two words only.

“Holy fuck.”

“Thank you for that quick and eloquent response,” Jaemin flipped over, looking at you with tired eyes and an equally tired smile, but despite all that he was still lively. “At least it wasn’t a blatant rejection.”

You thought that you wouldn’t have to make eye contact with him when his bangs were messily covering his eyes, but your regret came late when you caught the subtle quirk of the corners of his lips when you looked down at him in your daze. “W—wait, who said anything about rejecting you? How dare you drop that bomb onto me when I’m unprepared? I’m never giving you advice ever again.”

Self study period over. Nine in the morning. The bell rang and before your deskmate of three years, your crush of a little less than that could slip back into the slumber that he’d missed because of you, he managed to speak in a soft voice.

“Take your time.”

#NCT-WRITERS #cznnet #neowritingsnet #kpopscape #na jaemin x reader #jaemin x reader #na jaemin fluff #jaemin fluff #nct x reader #nct fluff #na jaemin scenarios #jaemin scenarios #announcement #nct dream scenarios #nct dream fluff #nct dream x reader

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cake-and-spades · 3 years

Note

Tell me about internalized arophobia please, thanks

I have been struggling with putting down my thoughts/ feelings for this ask for months, and I finally just did what I do best and did some research. I looked up internalized homophobia and obviously not all of these will apply to arophobia (or to everyone) but it’s a good place to expand from! I’m so sorry this took so long anon 😭

Bold text is taken from the Rainbow Project (LINK) with anything I added in plain text underneath.

Trigger warnings for things mentioned but not described in detail, take care of yourselves y'all:

homophobia / transphobia / biphobia / arophobia / etc

self harm

abusive relationships

drinking / substance abuse

suicide

pedophilia

(if I've missed any please let me know and I'll add them above)

01. Denial of your sexual orientation to yourself and others.

Fun fact: for the first like 2 weeks after I found out what aromanticism was I refused to identify as aro because of like, the crushing fear and disappointment and the belief I’d never be happy. And of course I *had* to experience romantic attraction some day, I just *had* to, *everyone* does. (Oof)

02. Attempts to alter or change your sexual your orientation.

Do I even need to explain this one? “Maybe if I just try hard enough I’ll start liking someone. Fake it till you make it, right?”

03. Feeling you are never good enough.

Personally, whenever I used to think about platonically dating people/ having nonromantic partner(s) I’d start getting down on myself and think “they deserve a Real (TM) partner, a Romantic (TM) partner, they deserve more than the disappointment I would be” or alternately, the thought that I’m disappointing my parents by not giving them a child-in-law & grandchildren

04. Engaging in obsessive thinking and/or compulsive behaviours.

Not sure exactly how this one could relate, perhaps in obsessively seeking out romance (in fiction or irl) or exposing yourself to it knowing it makes you uncomfortable ?

05. Under-achievement or even over-achievement as a bid for acceptance.

The whole who gets to be an "ally" because they aren't *really* LGBT+ comes to mind

06. Low self esteem, negative body image.

Self explanatory, but I will also add: not wanting to be seen as a Romantic Person, policing your actions and your body / body language so no one could ever see you as anything other than Platonic or friends with benefits. Disliking the parts of you that are typically coded by society to be "romantic" things.

07. Contempt for the more open or obvious members of the LGBT community.

Self explanatory but also: Gatekeeping. I’m thinking especially gatekeeping people who aren’t “aro enough” to be considered aro (you will always be "aro enough" as long as you ID as aro!)

08. Contempt for those at earlier stages of the coming out process.

Contempt for “cringey aros / aces who make the whole community look bad / childish / heartless” when they are just discovering themselves and having a good time (and many times are just kids)

09. Denial that homophobia, heterosexism, biphobia or sexism are serious social problems.

The thought: “Sure arophobia exists, but it isn’t a *real* problem like homophobia / transphobia / biphobia” Alternately: “yeah it’s not perfect, but it’s not like I have *real problems*”

Also a personal note: I didn't like. recognize that we live in an arophobic society? Like society definitely wasn't built for us but Baby Aro me refused to understand that.

10. Contempt for those that are not like ourselves or contempt for those who seem like ourselves. Sometimes distancing by engaging in homophobic behaviours – ridicule, harassment, verbal or physical attacks on other LGB people.

This one is similar to the ones above.

11. Projection of prejudice onto another target group.

Terfs, gatekeepers, etc

12. Becoming psychologically abused or abusive or remaining in an abusive relationship.

Self explanatory :( But especially: staying in a relationship even though it's hurting you, whether because of your partner or just because it isn't a good fit for you as an aro person.

13. Attempts to pass as heterosexual, sometimes marrying someone of the other sex to gain social approval or in hope of ‘being cured’.

Y’all ever faked a crush or just chosen one at random? Y’all ever dated someone you knew you didn’t “like” like while hoping you’d catch feelings someday or thinking it was like, the natural “next step” for your friendship? Y’all ever fear that some day everyone would find out you “”weren’t normal?”” Y’all ever cry bc you know you’ll never love a partner the way they’ll love you, because their love is “”more pure/ real”” or some bullshit???? It's the internalized arophobia 😌

14. Increased fear and withdrawal from friend and relatives.

"They won't like me anymore when they realize I'm not the same as them" "They'll see me differently" etc etc etc

15. Shame or depression; defensiveness; anger or bitterness.

Self explanatory :(

16. School truancy or dropping out of school. Also, work place absenteeism or reduced productivity.

Self explanatory, avoidance of problems and people

17. Continual self-monitoring of one’s behaviours, mannerisms, beliefs, and ideas.

This one seems like it would tie in with #6, specifically monitoring yourself for the Correct Amount of romance, even if you're faking it.

18. Clowning as a way of acting out society’s negative stereotypes.

I have nothing to add here

19. Mistrust and destructive criticism of LGBT community leaders.

I don't think I need to elaborate on this one askdjfdkj

20. Reluctance to be around or have concern for children for fear of being seen as a paedophile.

God I don’t even know why I have this specific internalized arophobia/homophobia. Like??? It doesn’t make sense from an aro perspective but boy do I got it. I love kids and I have an education degree, but am still constantly afraid people see me as a creep

21. Conflicts with the law.

22. Unsafe sexual practices and other destructive risk-taking behaviours-including risk for HIV and other STIs.

Lack of care and respect for self :(

23. Separating sex and love, or fear of intimacy. Sometimes low or lack of sexual drive or celibacy.

I mean some of this is natural and healthy for aros by nature of being aro, but fear of intimacy. Fear of being Known

These last two are self explanatory :(

24. Substance abuse, including drink and drugs.

25. Thinking about suicide, attempting suicide, death by suicide.

https://www.rainbow-project.org/internalised-homophobia/

#asks #arophobia #aromantic

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tender-rosiey · 3 years

Note

hey dear (yeah im deffo addicted to your writing) just checking on you i hope your doing good and taking care of yourself. I would also like to drop a one shot request of Chuuya falling for mori's god-daughter (also an executive) who has an ability which allows her to summon and control demons while singing but she ends up getting captured and goes missing for 2 years then one day they find her and he confesses to her after she gets rescued (rlly fluffy). thanks in advance love Safiyah <33

❥—Cassiopeia

❥—Chuuya Nakahara x Reader

❥—Fluff

ᴀ/ɴ: i am glad you enjoy my writing and i hope you are doing great as well; hopefully you like this one too 🥺💘 also let this cure your hearts after the last one- also the chant is inspired by Obey me ❣️

“Chuuya, I would like for you to meet my daughter.”

Right then a beautiful and fair lady came out of the door. Chuuya beweildered by her beauty went silent; such a beautiful creature existed?

“Y/N, meet Chuuya; he is one of the best executives here!” Mori introduced you smiling, to which you wave your hand to the ginger and smiled warmly “Hey Chuuya! Pleasure meeting you.” Chuuya smiled shyly and waved back “S-same here..”

Mori then smirked and questioned “Chuuya what’s the matter? You seem rather uncollected.” The said male waved his hand around in denial as he was stopped by a giggle from the lady beside him. “You are quite cute; I hope we get to know each other more.” You said before exiting for your mission.

Chuuya let out a sigh of relief putting his hands on his knees as blush crept onto his face. He made a total and utter fool out of himself; Isn’t he the strongest executive? Why was he so damn shy around you? The thought started clouding his mind until Mori snapped him out of his daze and asked “Are you perhaps interested in Y/N, Chuuya?”

Damn right he is. You were so sweet and kind and that just hit bullseye in his heart. Ever since then he would take almost any opportunity to be with you and talk with you. You were slowly getting to know each other better.

You have been together through tears and giggles and pain and sniffles. He knows you deeply and you know him just as well. After all 3 years of friendship isn’t a minuscule period of time; there multiple moments he had seen you in that made just how much of a wonderful person you are even clearer.

You got along with everyone.

Akutagawa, you both were like best friends and would tell each other everything. You were one of the few he accepted help or their company and you were always a great duo in battle.

Kouyou, the woman that took him in adores you. What more could he ask for? Kouyou helped you and guided in your times of unknowing what to do and how to do it. You were sisters and she valued you deeply, she would always hang out with you and talk with you about anything and everything.

Mori, the man who you addressed as your father. Despite Mori not being biologically him but he treated you as such, as if you were his daughter. He gave you all his love and made you feel appreciated and took care of you.

Seeing your kindness towards your allies Chuuya was dazzled, how could someone so sweet and kind be in the Mafia? His thoughts were completely erased when he saw you in battle.

Multiple screams, all saying the same thing “Beware of the Port Mafia’s devil!” Chuuya was wondering about who are they referring to, was it him? He suddenly heard someone singing behind him.

“Hear me, denizens of darkness, you who are born of shadow and you who give birth to it. Hear me and do as I command! I, Y/N, call upon you to send forth one of your number! I summon the demons of chanting despair!”

That voice, it sounded so angelic but the words were venomous. He turned around to be met with the sight of you floating, eyes glowing purple as demons from around you rose from the earth and attacked all the men in front of him.

‘Woah..’ He couldn’t be more in love. Your elegant movement while fighting were a sight to behold. Your voice was enchanting yet deadly, he would be grateful if it was the last thing he heard before his death.

He loved how there was a total difference between the way you treat your peers and your enemies. Did he really deserve if your feelings were mutual? It was new for Chuuya to doubt himself. But there wasn’t any route to choose when his heart now belonged to no one but you and that made him helpless before you.

“Look at the stars, Chuuya !” Right, you loved looking at constellations, and he loved how the stars shined and danced in your eyes as if they were their ball room.

He looked up and saw a weird look star, maybe a constellation? He then pointed at it and asked “Y/N, what constellation is that?” You smiled brightly before answering “That’s Cassiopeia! It represents love.” You then turned to the ginger finding him close to you and somehow both of you involuntary moved closer, slowly about to close the gap between you.

“Hello Y/N.” You both jumped and looked at the owner of the voice to see that it’s Mori. Chuuya saying every cuss word in his mind while you both were as red as roses, however Mori was grinning mischievously. It’s nice being a party pooper at times.

However that’s all in the past.

Now you were gone, no one knew where you were taken and if you were even still alive. 2 years too long for the ginger, too long because of his suffering and sadness through them.

When he first found out you were taken he was devastated and went on searching everywhere with the mafia men; everyone in the Port Mafia was searching for their Y/N.

At the night he found out he couldn’t sleep, and wanted to start the search as soon as possible but days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and then into years. Chuuya was starting to lose hope but still searched. Everyday he thought of you, he would drink wine and anything to wash it all away.

Even now after all what happened and the two years that had passed since then they still didn’t stop searching. He didn’t stop searching.

He was walking down the streets returning back from a mission as he came across a warehouse, it looked rather sketchy so to quiet down his thoughts he entered it and his eyes could not believe what he saw.

You all beaten up and bruised. Body looking as weak as a stick and something to silence your screams and chants on your mouth, his body loved involuntary and hugged you tightly quickly freeing you from the chains that hampered you from fleeing from your misery.

He sent the location to the Port Mafia and now everyone was going to come and make who did this to you pay. He picked you up and as he looked behind him he found Mori with wide eyes barely himself believing that indeed you were alive.

The old man took you from the hands of your savior and inspected your face, those who did this to you will go through hell. “Chuuya take her back.” Mori said sternly and Chuuya nodded, he wasn’t going to let you go out of his sight again.

And there he was with you on a bed, multiple tubes sticking to your skin and a oxygen mask. You looked really weak and pale, but it didn’t stop him from loving you. He loved you even more because you managed to live through that and made it back to him at the end.

Chuuya fell asleep as he was waiting for any sign of your awakening, and you woke up instead adjusting to the light and your surroundings. This wasn’t the dark and frightening warehouse you were in...you were finally saved. After two years of misery you were finally saved.

You looked to your side to find the ginger fast asleep alongside you, you smiled softly and gently played with his hair. Chuuya felt something on his head and slowly woke up to see you pulling your hand away, but he held it tenderly and put it back.

“I have to tell you something when you recover, Y/N.” He said as he was enjoying the feeling of your touch. “Why not now?” You questioned while he looked up at you with a smile and mumbled “because it’s something you need to be told outside of this white chamber.”

And so as time passed you were finally back to how you were. He blindfolded you and led you to a garden and went behind you. “Chuuya where are we?” You wondered while he chuckled and took your blindfold off and said “See for yourself.”

Your eyes were now looking at the garden you last saw Chuuya before your disappearance, but right now there was a picnic set and surrounding it were petals on a shape of a heart and candles lighting up the the space. He then pointed above and looked at you.

There it was, the constellation of love, Cassiopeia. He placed a hand on his heart and softly said “Love is what I feel for you. Very deep and strong love.” He walked towards you and held your hands between his bringing them up to his lips and placed a light kiss to them.

“I never stopped loving you, and from the moment I saw you took my breath away, you made me the prisoner of love and the poor who seeks for your love and touch. Everything about you is beyond description, I can’t find the words to describe it and I am afraid that it had already eaten me up. I am afraid that now you are the only who can calm the beast of love and adoration that only wants you and won’t accept anyone but you. So will you please give me a chance and let me show you how much love my heart feels towards you?”

A smile made its way into your face and vision getting glossy. You pulled the ginger towards you and connected your lips as gentle as one would touch a flower’s petal. The light of the stars shining on both you, it looked like a scene from a movie.

A portray, a beautiful portray, that could be drawn by millions but never be as beautiful. And Cassiopeia was the witness of their true and never ending love.

“once I believed

love poems were foolish

now I read love poems

just for the sake of it

and yet perhaps I want

to reach a higher state of poetry

I don't know if that's right or wrong

but such a feeling persists anyway

and sometimes irritates me

provoking outrageous desires

once I believed

love poems were foolish

yet now I do nothing

but dream about love“

-from “Exhaustion” by Nakahara Chuuya

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

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fruitless-nonsense · 3 years

Text

Hello again! A bit of a delay I know, had some personal life stuff, but I’m back babey!

Firstly, I want to say Happy Pride Month! ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜 I myself have only recently come out, but to all my peeps in the lgbtq+ community I wish you a month of celebration.

For the topic, I chose one that has been circling in my brain since some asks last week gave me a revelation: I will be discussing kolvina, and more specifically the direction the writers chose for a one Davina Claire.

This ship has always been an anomaly to me, like when it was happening on my screen I was in denial that it was happening at all, and the perceptions on this site have only fueled that feeling. I’ve been watching these communities for a few years now, and the general consensus is people both love and hate this ship, and both sides seem to be equal in numbers. So what is my opinion on kolvina? Well after much deliberation I have decided that.... I don’t like it, and here’s why!

First thing’s first, I want to say I understand this ship better than any other ship in both shows, honestly if the characters acted differently it would’ve been a lot better. The dynamic is there (and I know how important that is to people), not just a trope, but between both characters it works! Let me explain, starting with Kol. Season two goes into depth on his insecurities with his family and how lonely it made him feel over the years. I mean, the show always potrayed the big three: Klaus, Elijah, and Rebekah with the strongest bonds and while Finn chooses to exclude himself (for valid reasons tbh) Kol even in the vampire diaries wanted to be a part of that. The problem is (for some reason that is never explained) his siblings don’t care about him. The easiest example is how they reacted to his death, Rebekah was upset for a minute and Elijah didn’t even seem affected at all, the closest I can say is Klaus was angered and didn’t forget for a while, but as soon as the originals started nothing. Then we have his second death where Klaus takes the only opportunity to bring him back off the table and the only one who seeks to try is Rebekah, meanwhile Elijah is nowhere to be found in this department. This finally brings us to Davina. As much of an issue as this is (and we’ll talk about it later), Davina seems to be the first person to ever put Kol first. When he dies a second time, Davina’s number one priority is his resurrection and goes to incredible lengths to do so. I know people say it’s unrealistic for Kol to take interest in a mortal, but it makes sense to me, she’s a witch. From what we learn, Kol has a soft spot for witches cause he yearns for the power that was taken from him by his mother, which doesn’t even go into Davina herself being a rebel like him who paved her own way. Onto Davina’s feelings towards him, Kol’s the only person in her life that is there unconditionally. I know Marcel loves her, but his loyalty to his family clearly comes into conflict with his loyalty to his other family, including her. Klaus either ruins her life or demands things from her. Cami was there for her, but they scrapped that relationship after season one. When Kol is by her side, it’s not cause he needs things from her, nor is he there as some kind of protection. In season two, Davina had a plan and Kol’s response was “okay, I can assist you with that.” Side note, I really liked their friendship in season two before they of course made it something more. Regardless of the past, all of this material would’ve made for a pretty great relationship, but it fell flat, why did that happen?

I have two reasons for why I could never get on board with them. The first is the most obvious: it’s the age difference for me. I know we had Damon and Elena and Klaus and Caroline, but for kolvina the vibe was weirder. Perhaps because Davina acts more childish than them in season one, or because our image of her was young and sweet. It might also have to do with Kol referring to being Kaleb as the body of a teenager making him seem way older than he probably is. I know by season three Davina is 18, but that feeling never goes away for me. This was my hesitance in season two, but as a friendship those two were pretty fun together (might be an unpopular opinion). The problems start in season three.

The second reason is something that the community has kind of dipped into, but not enough. I don’t know if I’m not looking hard enough, but every complaint for kolvina in season three talk only about how insufferable Kol was, which yeah definitely, but honeys he’s only half the problem. Not even halfway through season two Davina stopped being a character. Remember her in season one? A bright spitfire who wasn’t afraid to speak up at the injustice of the Mikaelson’s even if it put her at risk? The girl who showed up Klaus on multiple occasions? Who stood for Josh, Marcel, Cami, and anyone else being pushed around by Klaus? The girl who was powerful, yet kind? A powerhouse set up on a warpath against the Mikaelson’s for season two? I remember her! She was one of my favorite characters because of how badass she was while still keeping her agency. I don’t blame you if you forgot she’s never talked about, and that’s because of what follows. Season two starts off well, with Davina standing her ground against the wolves and keeping Mikael under control showed she wasn’t completely in over her head. Her plan is to find a way to de-sire Klaus’ sireline so she doesn’t kill Marcel and Josh which shows she’s smart and thinking ahead. Then she meets Kaleb, and it goes downhill from there. I get that Davina is supposed to be a naive teenage girl, but that doesn’t excuse after she finds out Kaleb is really Kol. After her Mikael plan fell through her backup plan is to just sit around until Kol shows her the room and tells her about the dagger. With what she’s trying to accomplish it’s a smart plan, but that doesn’t mean her sudden trust in Kol is any less stupid. Her first thought when he’s gone with the stake is to assume he took it and left, so if she thought he was capable of that, why did she drop her guard in the first place? Gets me frustrated. When Kol dies Davina also completes the dagger and for the rest of the season does nothing with it, she does nothing period but whine about Kol with everyone she interacts with which is annoying considering how much she was a part of in season one. That was bad, but the worst is yet to come. Season three gives her a storyline as a ruler of the witches before immediately ending it, and when you look at what they threw away it’s even worse. So Davina gets Hayley to kill one of her detesters and it ends in a bloodbath and the son vows justice for his mom (which is completely valid), and Marcel hints at her turning into Klaus. This is promising, in this scenario Davina is Klaus holding power over the powerless, and Van Nguyen is Davina taking a stand. Very interesting, until she gets shunned in the seventh episode. What was the point? The next time we see her she is distraught at her current predicament, but not because she’s cut off from her people and her ancestors because now she doesn’t have the power to bring Kol back (of course it’s for no other reason). I just don’t understand why Davina was relegated to a side character in the later seasons after all she did in season one. They couldn’t have cut anything else from 3a (Tristan and Aurora perhaps, they were so boring)? Finally, we have her characterization after she resurrected Kol, nothing. She does nothing but wait in the wings for Kol to finish helping his family, a family she hated and had every right to. She either does nothing, or is only around to help with Kol’s sudden curse, and yet Kol is supposed to be worse. I know, I know, the big bad Kol Mikaelson became a lost puppy chasing after Davina, but so was she. They were just as bad as each other, two puppies chasing the tail of the other. Then she died, to push forward the plot around her. If you think that’s treating her like a plot device, let’s fast forward to season four. Davina Claire, harvest girl, rebellious teen, former queen regent of New Orlean witches, is a piece of leverage to control Kol. I’m done. There’s not much to say about season five, she only shows up to spout information and that’s about it.

It’s a sad end that Davina doesn’t even get an epilogue in the finale (I mean I have many problems with the finale regardless but I digress). Our only conclusion is that she lives happily ever after with her immortal boyfriend. Oh yeah! They never explain that caveat. She’s a mortal witch who will eventually die of old age, and he’s an original. I’m either supposed to assume Davina becomes a vampire (which would be the most out of character thing for her to do considering she hates vampires and loves her magic), which would mean women making personal sacrifices while the man doesn’t have to give up a thing (such a wonderful lesson we keep telling young women), or Kol became mortal by maybe also taking the cure with Rebekah (which makes a bit more sense since we know Kol misses doing magic). The point is, we don’t know, cause they don’t explain anything.

Look Davina wasn’t the perfect character, but she deserved so much better than what she became, and the worst part is this is barely talked about. Like I said, when people hate on kolvina, they approach it from “they ruined Kol!” And not really mentioning Davina. You’ll notice I mention Kol’s characterization, but I’m not going in depth. That’s cause you can easily find a more articulated response on how they did Kol dirty without having to look too hard, but Davina? She needs all the shoutouts she can get. Cami is overhated, and Davina is ignored. That’s two female regulars in the cast being treated terribly by the community and I will not stand for it! I wanna see Davina Claire deserves better cause she did.

To wrap up a very long post, we need to talk about Davina more, when I said season three was better than tvd I wasn’t referring to 3a, justice for the women of the originals, happy pride month, I’ll try to post more frequently.

#davina claire #anti kolvina #kol mikaelson #the originals #season 3a is wasted opportunity period #Davina Claire deserves better #she really does #women of the originals #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #finn mikaelson #the mikaelsons #marcel gerard #wasted female friendships

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op-sheepy · 3 years

Note

ok so I'm particularly interested in

Bellamy Law

Law and Bible stuff

Law is a substitute kindergarten teacher

shichibukai applications

reverse hanahaki disease (?? do u spit out flowers when your nemesis walks by?)

if you feel like elaborating on any of these!

This is gonna get long and I actually contemplated posting them separately but would that have been more work? Yeah, that felt like more work so for anyone interested, check under the cut. :D

---------------------------------o

Bellamy Law

Hm… This would be an attempt to explore the parallels and contrasts between Bellamy and Law. I've always found it fascinating that the former was a foil to the latter.

They both come from well-off towns in the North Blue.

Bellamy left because of boredom. Law had no choice because Flevance.

Both ended up seeking Doflamingo because of his notoriety as a pirate. Both admired him initially

Doffy favored one over the other though. Bellamy always sought his approval but was never really part of the inner circle Doflamingo cared about.

Law got the dubious privilege of being part of the family despite being absent for so long. Even offered one of the highest seats by Doffy's side for seemingly nothing.

Law had no trouble turning his back on Doffy once he realized the man's nature. Bellamy tried to stick to his principles until the end despite admitting that he new he was wrong.

Bellamy can (and did) quit piracy after his ordeal with Doflamingo. Having the option to live peacefully, perhaps a return to his previous life (the one he considered boring). Law can't do that quite as easily what with his Devil fruit and his reputation.

I thought it would be interesting trying to explore what Bellamy was thinking. Did he hear the Donquixote Pirates talk about their missing 'family'? Did he get to see Doffy be amused at Law's rise as a Supernova while he kept being reminded of his own status? Did Law save Bellamy partially because he also saw what he could have been had Corazon not saved him?

On principle, Bellamy should have hated Trafalgar Law. Does. Bastard even saved him without him wanting it. But there was something about the shadows haunting those eyes and Bellamy started to wonder.

He had heard the family talk about Law before. The child personally taught by Doflamingo, chosen to be his right hand. Never was he compared to the man because Law was just obviously better. Smarter. Stronger. Bellamy was ever just an uncouth thug.

He was allowed to 'borrow' Doflamingo's symbol while Law had an empty seat waiting for his return–a seat Bellamy had wanted enough to risk everything for.

Maybe he had resented, Trafalgar Law for carelessly rejecting the things he had that Bellamy had always desired. In the end too, Trafalgar Law did prove to be better. He'd done as a child what Bellamy had trouble doing even as he was now.

But having been given the chance to observe the other man as they all recovered, he wondered, perhaps for the first time, whether despite Law being better than Bellamy, Bellamy had had it better–barring the poor life choices.

---------------------------------o

Law and Bible stuff

This is just me wanting to know how many biblical parallels and themes I can draw from Law, the Donquixote brothers, the characters associated with them, and his backstory. Honestly not sure whether this would become a fic and in what style or I'm gonna give up and just make it a post.

Not gonna elaborate on them much but here are the ideas in more bullet points (yay):

Law gets familiar with all four horsemen of the apocalypse: conquest, war, famine, and death. He even survives them.

Law is like the son in the parable of the prodigal son to the Donquixote pirates. Except the themes are inverted.

Doflamingo and Rocinante -> Cain and Abel

Ope Ope no Mi -> Granting eternal life by sacrificing one's own life

Gods descending or living among humans. Also, Homing and his family being prosecuted for other people's sins.

That scene where they were hanged by their arms outstretched looks like a crucifixion. Also, Rocinante was on the right while Doflamingo was on the left. Similar to how the penitent thief was on the right and the unrepentant one to the left.

Flevance being considered a paradise with walls/fences/gates and somewhere Law cannot return to.

In the panel where the Donquixote pirates are seated at the table, there were thirteen of them with Doffy at the center. Same as The Last Supper

There are a lot more of these (David and Goliath, Solomon, Jonah, Job, etc.) but I kinda lost the notes and some are more visual so I can't really explain it too well. This would is a drabble series to emphasize or highlight the parallels so no proper snippet for this one.

---------------------------------o

Law is a substitute kindergarten teacher

Originally an idea to get around most of the Heart Pirates being nameless but evolved to include other characters as kids. Chopper is a kindergarten teacher and he convinces Law to take over his class for a week because somehow Law has the qualifications to and free time. Naturally, he wasn't able to say no.

Unfortunately, despite not being terrible at handling children, Chopper's class is filled with menaces. Also, despite not being terrible, Law can still be awkward so...

"Mr. Trofao–fargar—"

"Trafalgar."

The kid—which one was this one again? Shit, he should really get them name plates or something—scrunched up his face and tried harder, "Tar-pal—"

"Law. Just call me Law."

"Mr. Low"—eh, close enough—"can I go to the bathroom?" Wide imploring eyes stared up at him.

"Sure, go ahead." Law gestured towards the exit of the classroom with his head.

The kid just stared expectantly at him and he tried to suppress the need to narrow his eyes.

"Is there… anything else?"

"Mr. Chopper always comes with me to hold my hand."

Really?

"Mr. Chopper isn't here. You should practice doing it on your own now." He said after a deep inhale.

"But the monsters might get me…"

"No, they won't."

"You don't know that."

"I do." Before the kid could open his mouth again to argue, he added, "Besides, children taste terrible so you're safe."

The kid looked stricken and took a step back from him. Uh oh. Glistening eyes, wobbling lower lip… "Alright! I'll go with you." The kid did not look reassured. In fact he looked like going alone with Law was the last thing he wanted to do. Guess, he kinda implied that he ate children didn't he? Oops.

Well, the kid needs to go and he's not going to be cleaning up after him if he wets himself.

Law glanced at the rest of the children. It was Arts and Craft time and they seemed preoccupied enough. Still, Law doubted Chopper ever left these kids alone–already he could see some of them glancing up at him, waiting for him to leave no doubt to cause trouble. That Monkey kid in particular looked extremely suspicious.

He stood up from his crouch and clapped twice to get everyone's attention.

"Alright. Fall in line. Single file."

There was some grumbling and questioning directed at him. "What's going on?"

Law shrugged. "You're all going to the bathroom."

---------------------------------o

Shichibukai Application Forms

Crackfic where the World Government and relevant parties review various Shichbukai Applications. Most submitted by the pirates applying themselves, some produced by their own staff. They discuss and debate. As well as judge pirate resumes.

She scanned the document. Terrible format, really. If you fail to impress within the first page, you've failed entirely. There just wasn't anyone promising enough in this batch of applications or any of the other ones before. The last one had been that clown. "Apprentice to the Pirate King," was a pretty hefty credential.

"Oh, how about this one? Three years experience pillaging, and they even listed all the towns they looted." One of the newly transferred administrative staff said.

"None of these are worth considering at all. You know, when Mihawk was asked to submit his application, he hadn't bothered with all of this. He just sent us a card with his name on it and the title "World's Strongest Swordsman," underneath."

The staff perked up. "Oh, there was an application like that." There was scramble and some shuffling before a plain white card was produced. "Here."

"'From Trafalgar Law'. What does this even mean?"

"Well, it did come with a big box..."

---------------------------------o

Reverse Hanahaki Disease

(?? do u spit out flowers when your nemesis walks by?)

Haha. At first it was going to be that way (because it is hilarious) but the inflicted would probably choke to death too soon. Or if both enemies had it, they'd end up just coughing flowers at each other until they stopped being enemies.

The version I ended up going with was that this variant of Hanahaki, instead of afflicting those with unrequited love, affected those in denial instead. The reverse part comes from the original idea that this would usually happen if you somehow fell in love with your nemesis (someone you originally hated). So it's not the thought that the other person can't love you, it's that you can't accept that you love that other person. You get cured by confessing to the person sincerely.

This is actually another KidLaw (surprise!). And the flower coughed up directly represents the person they're in love with (I went with Oda's flower representation for them because I found it funny for plot)

So the idea is that, you get sick but you don't automatically know (maybe) who it is because that's part of being in denial. Kid and Law have many enemies after all. In this story they both get it though not exactly at the same time and not known to the other.

He survived Amber Lead Syndrome only to be killed off by a stupid flower disease that apparently knows more about his own feelings than he does.

He glared at the petals. Tulips. Red.

An image of a cocky grin and a shock of red hair flashed through his mind and—nope. That's not right.

He coughed harder, tears stinging his eyes with the effort. More flowers. Now he has enough for a bouquet.

Alright, he was a doctor. He could do this. Differential time.

First, which variant does he have. He doesn't particularly feel unloved or hopeless. There wasn't anyone he wanted in particular to love him. Ok, nothing. It was maybe safe to say he had that other variant.

Which was stupid because Law had many enemies and he hated all of them.

And cue the racking coughs. More red. He was very familiar with that particular shade.

New theory. This was a new variant that somehow makes you sick when you think of the person you hated the most.

Yes, that had to be it. He thought as he all but collapsed on the floor from the sudden paroxysm.

I knew this was gonna get long. :) Oh well...

Thank you for playing. :D

#One Piece #One piece fanfiction #wip game #trafalgar law #donquixote brothers #donquixote doflamingo #donquixote roci #donquixote homing #donquixote pirates #one piece bellamy #bellamy the hyena #eustass kid #kidlaw #trafalgar d water law

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sgt-paul · 3 years

Text

Paul McCartney Is Still Trying to Figure Out Love – The New York Times Magazine

By David Marchese, Nov. 29, 2020

Paul McCartney, like the rest of us, this year found himself with an unexpected amount of time stuck indoors. Unlike the rest of us — or most of us, anyway — he used that time to record a new album. The pandemic-induced circumstances of its creation may mark “McCartney III” as an outlier in the former Beatle’s catalog, but as its title suggests, it does have precedents: Like “McCartney” (1970) and “McCartney II” (1980), the album, out Dec. 18, was primarily recorded by McCartney alone, with him playing nearly all the instruments and handling all the production. “At no point,” McCartney said, “did I think: I’m making an album. I’d better be serious. This was more like: You’re locked down. You can do whatever the hell you want.” Which was a gas, as always. “What I’m amazed with,” McCartney explained, “is that I’m not fed up with music. Because, strictly speaking, I should have gotten bored years ago.”

It seems to me that working on music by yourself, as you did on the new album, might allow for some insights about what you do and how you do it. So are there aspects of “McCartney III” that represent creative growth to you?

The idea of growing and adding more arrows to your bow is nice, but I’m not sure if I’m interested in it. The thing is, when I look back to “Yesterday,” which was written when I was 21 or something, there’s me talking like a 90-year-old: “Suddenly I’m not half the man I used to be.” Things like that and “Eleanor Rigby” have a kind of wisdom. You would naturally think, OK, as I get older I’m going to get deeper, but I’m not sure that’s true. I think it’s a fact of life that personalities don’t change much. Throughout your life, there you are.

Is there anything different about the nature of your musical gift today at 78 than in 1980 or 1970 or when you first started writing songs?

It’s the story that you’re telling. That changes. When I first said to John, “I’ve written a few songs,” they were simple. My first song was called “I Lost My Little Girl” — four chords. Then we went into the next phase of songwriting, which was talking to our fans. Those were songs like “Thank You Girl,” “Love Me Do,” “Please Please Me.” Then came a rich vein as we got more mature, with things like “Let It Be,” “The Long and Winding Road.” But basically I think it’s all the same, and you get lucky sometimes. Like, “Let It Be” came from a dream where my mother had said that phrase. “Yesterday” came from a dream of a melody. I’m a great believer in dreams. I’m a great rememberer of dreams.

What’s the last interesting dream you had?

Last night’s was pretty good.

What was it?

It was of a sexual nature, so I’m not sure it’s good for the Kids section. Pretty cool, though. Very interesting, dreams of a sexual nature when you’re married. Because your married head is in the dream saying: “Don’t do this. Don’t go here.” And just to let you know, I didn’t. It was still a good dream.

You know, I was conscious of not mentioning the Beatles early in this interview, and you’ve already mentioned them a few times. So let me ask you: The band broke up 50 years ago. You were in it for roughly 10 years. When you’re not doing interviews or playing concerts, how central to your own story of your life are those 10 years from half a century ago?

Very. It was a great group. That’s commonly acknowledged.

Generally speaking.

[Laughs.] It’s like your high school memories — those are my Beatles memories. This is the danger: At a dinner party, I am liable to tell stories about my life, and people already know them. I can see everyone stifling a yawn. But the Beatles are inescapable. My daughter Mary will send me a photo or a text a few times a week: “There you were on an advert” or “I heard you on the radio.” The thing that amazes me now, because of my venerable age, is that I will be with, like, one of New York’s finest dermatologists, and he will be a rabid Beatles fan. All of that amazes me. We were trying to get known, we were trying to do good work and we did it. So to me, it’s all happy memories.

“McCartney III” will come out very close to the 40th anniversary of John Lennon’s death. Has your processing of what happened to him changed over the years?

It’s difficult for me to think about. I rerun the scenario in my head. Very emotional. So much so that I can’t really think about it. It kind of implodes. What can you think about that besides anger, sorrow? Like any bereavement, the only way out is to remember how good it was with John. Because I can’t get over the senseless act. I can’t think about it. I’m sure it’s some form of denial. But denial is the only way that I can deal with it. Having said that, of course I do think about it, and it’s horrible. You do things to help yourself out of it. I did an interview with Sean, his son. That was nice — to talk about how cool John was and fill in little gaps in his knowledge. So it’s little things that I am able to do, but I know that none of them can get over the hill and make it OK. But you know, after he was killed, he was taken to Frank Campbell’s funeral parlor in New York. I’m often passing that. I never pass it without saying: “All right, John. Hi, John.”

And how about your perspective on the work you did together? Has that changed?

I always thought it was good. I still think it’s good. Sometimes I had to reassure him that it was good. I remember one time he said to me: “What are they going to think of me when I’m dead? Am I going to be remembered?” I felt like the older brother, even though he was older than me. I said: “John, listen to me. You are going to be so remembered. You are so [expletive] great that there’s no way that this disappears.” I guess that was a moment of insecurity on his part. He straightened me up on other occasions. It was a great collaboration. I can’t think of any better collaboration, and there have been millions. I feel very lucky. We happened upon each other in Liverpool through a friend of mine, Ivan Vaughan. Ivan said, “I think you’d like this mate of mine.” Everyone’s lives have magic, but that guy putting me and John together and then George getting on a bus — an awful lot of coincidences had to happen to make the Beatles.

People always ask you about John. I’ve noticed they rarely ask about George, who of course also died relatively young.

John is probably the one in the group you would remember, but the circumstances of his death were particularly harrowing. When you die horrifically, you’re remembered more. But I like your point, which is: What about George? I often think of George because he was my little buddy. I was thinking the other day of my hitchhiking bursts. This was before the Beatles. I suddenly was keen on hitchhiking, so I sold this idea to George and then John.

I know this memory. You and George hitchhiked to Paignton.

Yeah, Exeter and Paignton. We did that, and then I also hitchhiked with John. He and I got as far as Paris. What I was thinking about was — it’s interesting how I was the instigator. Neither of them came to me and said, “Should we go hitchhiking?” It was me, like, “I’ve got this great idea.”

Why is that interesting?

My theory is that attitude followed us into our recording career. Everyone was hanging out in the sticks, and I used to ring them up and say, “Guys, it’s time for an album.” Then we’d all come in, and they’d all be grumbling. “He’s making us work.” We used to laugh about it. So the same way I instigated the hitchhiking holidays, I would put forward ideas like, “It’s time to make an album.” I don’t remember Ringo, George or John ever ringing me up and saying that.

How strange is it to share an idle recollection from your youth, as you just did with that hitchhiking story, and then have the person to whom you’re sharing it — in this case, me — know the memory? It seems as though it would be weird.

It’s quite annoying, David. It’s like people at dinner yawning when I’m telling stories. This keeps happening to me.

I even know the details. You and George slept on the beach.

That’s right.

Some Salvation Army girls kept you warm.

Yes.

Then at some point you sat on a car battery and zapped your ass?

That was George who did that! I have a very clear recollection. He showed me the scar. Let’s set the record straight: It was George’s ass, and it was a burn the exact shape of a zip from his jeans.

Do you remember the last thing George said to you?

We said silly things. We were in New York before he went to Los Angeles to die, and they were silly but important to me. And, I think, important to him. We were sitting there, and I was holding his hand, and it occurred to me — I’ve never told this — I don’t want to hold George’s hand. You don’t hold your mate’s hands. I mean, we didn’t anyway. And I remember he was getting a bit annoyed at having to travel all the time — chasing a cure. He’d gone to Geneva to see what they could do. Then he came to a special clinic in New York to see what they could do. Then the thought was to go to L.A. and see what they could do. He was sort of getting a bit, “Can’t we just stay in one place?” And I said: “Yes, Speke Hall. Let’s go to Speke Hall.” That was one of the last things we said to each other, knowing that he would be the only person in the room who would know what Speke Hall was. You��probably know what the hell it is.

Yep.

I can’t amaze you with anything! Anyway, the nice thing for me when I was holding George’s hands, he looked at me, and there was a smile.

How many good Beatles stories are there left to tell that haven’t been told?

There are millions. Sometimes the reason is that they’re too private, and I don’t want to go gossiping. But the main stories do get told and told again.

Can you think of one now that you haven’t told before?

Hmm. I will rake through the embers. Oh, I’ll tell you one! I thought of one this morning. It’s pretty good. I don’t think I’ve told it. You’re going to have to say in the article, “I forced this out of him,” because it’s a bit telling-out-of-school.

I am hereby twisting your arm.

So when we did the album “Abbey Road,” the photographer was set up and taking the pictures that ended up as the album cover. Linda was also there taking incidental pictures. She has some that are of us — I think it was all four of us — sitting on the steps of Abbey Road studios, taking a break from the session, and I’m in quite earnest conversation with John. This morning I thought, I remember why. John’s accountants had rung my accountants and said: “Someone’s got to tell John he’s got to fill in his tax returns. He’s not doing it.” So I was trying to say to him, “Listen, man, you’ve got to do this.” I was trying to give him the sensible advice on not getting busted for not doing your taxes. That’s why I looked so earnest. I don’t think I’ve told that story before.

Tax filings — that’s some deep arcana.

I have dredged the barrel.

I know that your goal with making music is to do something that pleases yourself. What’s most pleasing to you on the new album?

I’m very happy with “Women and Wives.” I’ve been reading a book about Lead Belly. I was looking at his life and thinking about the blues scene of that day. I love that tone of voice and energy and style. So I was sitting at my piano, and I’m thinking about Huddie Ledbetter, and I started noodling around in the key of D minor, and this thing came to me. “Hear me women and wives” — in a vocal tone like what I imagine a blues singer might make. I was taking clues from Lead Belly, from the universe, from blues. And why I’m pleased with it is because the lyrics are pretty good advice. It’s advice I wouldn’t mind getting myself.

There’s a song on “McCartney III,” “Pretty Boys,” that is kind of unusual for you in how the music is sort of unassuming but the lyrics have an almost sinister edge. What inspired that one?

I’ll tell you exactly. I’ve been photographed by many photographers through the years. And when you get down to London, doing sessions with people like David Bailey, they can get pretty energetic in the studio. It’s like “Blow-Up,” [the director Michelangelo Antonioni’s 1966 film thriller about a fashion photographer, thought to be loosely based on David Bailey] you know? “Give it to me! [Expletive] the lens!” And it’s like: “What? No, I’m not going to.” But I understand why they’re doing that. They’re that kind of artist. So you allow it. Certain photographers — they tend to be very good photographers, by the way — can be totally out of line in the studio. So “Pretty Boys” is about male models. And going around New York or London, you see the lines of bicycles for hire. It struck me that they’re like models, there to be used. It’s most unfortunate.

“Lavatory Lil” is another song I was curious about. That’s quite a title.

“Lavatory Lil” is a parody of someone I didn’t like. Someone I was working with who turned out to be a bit of a baddie. I thought things were great; it turned nasty. So I made up the character Lavatory Lil and remembered some of the things that had gone on and put them in the song. I don’t need to be more specific than that. I will never divulge who it was.

I have another bigger-picture question. In your experience, how is the love in a marriage different at different stages of your life and in different marriages?

I don’t think it’s different. It’s always a splendid puzzle. Even though I write love songs, I don’t think I know what’s going on. It would be great if it was smooth and wonderful all the time, but you get pockets of that, and sometimes it’s — you could be annoying. To Nancy I’m pretty complex, with everything I’ve been through.

In what ways?

I’m some poor working-class kid from Liverpool. I’ve done music all my life. I’ve had huge success, and people often try to do what I want, so you get a false feeling of omnipotence. All that together makes a complex person. We’re all complex. Well, maybe I’m more complex than other people because of coming from poverty.

And how do you think about money these days?

It has obviously changed. What has stayed the same is the central core. When I was in Liverpool as a kid, I used to listen to people’s conversations. I remember a couple of women going on about money: “Ah, me and my husband, we’re always arguing about money.” And I remember thinking very consciously, “OK, I’ll solve that; I will try to get money.” That set me off on the “Let’s not have too many problems with money” trail. What happened also was, not having much money, when anything came into the house, it was important. It was important when my weekly comic was delivered. Or my penpal — I had a penpal in Spain, Rodrigo — when his letter came through, that was a big event. When they had giveaways in comics with little trinkets, I kept them all. Some people would say that’s a hoarding instinct, but not having anything when I was a kid has stuck with me as far as money. You know, I’m kind of crazy. My wife is not. She knows you can get rid of things you don’t need.

You’re a hoarder?

I’m a keeper. If I go somewhere and I get whatever I bought in a nice bag, I will want to keep the bag. My rationale is that I might want to put my sandwiches in it tomorrow. Whereas Nancy says, “We’ll get another bag.” In that way, my attitude toward money hasn’t changed that much. It’s the same instinct to preserve. One of the great things now about money is what you can do with it. Family and friends, if they have any medical problem, I can just say, “I’ll help.” The nicest thing about having money is you can help people with it.

Something that has been a constant for you musically is your ability to keep coming up with melodies. It’s there on the new album — the melodies all flow. Is your facility for writing a catchy melody ever an obstacle to getting the songs to be more than just catchy? Because a good tune by itself is not always enough to make a good song. “Bip Bop” would be an example of that. Do you know what I’m saying?

No, I know. “Bip Bop” is not lyrically stunning. I was always embarrassed about that song. Literally, it goes, “Bip Bop / take your bottom dollar.” It’s inconsequential. But I mentioned that to a friend, a producer, a few years ago, and he said, “That’s my favorite song of yours.” So you don’t know what people like. It’s enough if I like it and enjoyed putting it on record and don’t particularly want to think of any more lyrics. I don’t want to sweat it. Sometimes maybe it would be better if I sweated it. Once or twice I tried to sweat it, and I hated it. It’s like, What are you doing this for?

Sixty-something years into writing songs, do you feel any closer to knowing where melodies come from?

No. There is something with my ability to write music that I don’t think I’m necessarily responsible for. It just seems to come easier to me — touch wood — than it does to some people. That’s it. I’m a fortunate man.

#paul mccartney #old paul #grandpaul #*m #(the start of the interview was pretty worrying (with him bringing up yesterday like after 5 seconds) but actually?#it turned out to be a decent one)#favourite bit hands down paul's dirty dreams. DUDE... he cannot keep it in his pants even when he is in his dreams #well actually he said he did but lmao #but yeah many other great bits. ''i'm a keeper'' ... loved that one #the complex man rant #and the john and george bits #him being the instigator #!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love this guy :)

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recurring-polynya · 3 years

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Hey this is for our Redhead's bday. Its like a fluff and angst with a happy ending. Is it possible to make a Renruki based on Hanahaki disease? Do you know about this fanfic trope? Its like a person who doesn't know or think their love is requited, will cough up petals. They can only be saved with a confession or accept that they cannot be together with their love interest. I don't want it to sound too morbid. Let me know if its possible.

Wikipedia description for better understanding:

Hanahaki Disease is a fictional disease where the victim of unrequited or one-sided love begins to vomit or cough up the petals and flowers of a flowering plant growing in their lungs, which will eventually grow large enough to render breathing impossible if left untreated. There is no set time for how long this disease lasts but it may last from 2 weeks to 3 months, in rare cases up to 18 months, until the victim dies unless the feelings are returned or the plants are surgically removed. There is also no set flower that blossoms in the lungs but it may be the enamoured’s favourite flower or favourite colour. Hanahaki can be cured through surgical removal of the plants' roots, but this excision also has the effect of removing the patient's capacity for romantic love. It may also erase the patient’s feelings for and memories of the enamoured. It can also be cured by the reciprocation of the victim's feelings. These feelings cannot be feelings of friendship but must be feelings of genuine love. The victim may also develop Hanahaki Disease if they believe the love to be one-sided but once the enamoured returns the feelings, they will be cured. In some literature, other symptoms can be fever, uncontrollable shaking, loss of appetite, low body temperature, and hallucinations. Even after curing, with or without surgery, there can be irreversible damage to the lungs and, although very rare, in some cases the disease cannot be cured.

Ha ha ha, of course I have heard of Hanahaki disease, my brain is 100% rotted by fanfic.

I. hate. Hanahaki disease. It is probably my #1 most hated trope, up there with every single soulmate thing that treats love like some sort of inescapable destiny and strips the characters of any agency. To me, falling in love may be more or less involuntary, but the choice of whether or not to pursue it is the very crux of romance.

In any case, I was just going to... not do this one, except that I walked around mad for half a day and then wrote this up in, like, two hours. This sounds terrible, but this is actually an ideal day for a writer! I am really happy with how it came out! Thanks for the prompt!! I mean this with absolute sincerity!

Warning: Bad language, because Renruki aren’t any happier about any of this than I am.

Read on ao3 or ff.net

🌺 🌺 🌺

“How the fuck,” asked Rukia, “did you get that into my house?”

Sitting on Byakuya’s good tea table was a heavy green glass bottle of Rukongai’s worst rotgut. And two saucers.

Sitting cross legged and cross on the other side of the table was Abarai Renji.

“I told the captain it was necessary. Sit down.”

Usually, Rukia would take being ordered around like that as an invitation to call him names, but there was something angry and serious in Renji’s tone, so she sat instead, and let Renji pour each of them a saucer of something that smelled like lamp oil. Silently, they tossed back their drinks.

“You want to tell me what this is about?” Rukia asked as Renji refilled.

Without speaking, Renji pulled a carefully folded handkerchief out of his kosode and slid it across the table.

Rukia’s hands clenched into fists.

“Go ahead,” Renji said offhandedly, sipping his sake.

She didn’t want to. She knew what it would be. But she did it anyway, reached over and flipped open the handkerchief to reveal a handful of mangled, half-rotted flower petals. Hot rage ran through her veins. “Are you going through my trash now?” she demanded.

“No, I asked the captain to,” Renji replied coolly. “I assume he had someone do it for him, but he didn’t say.”

“Fuck you,” Rukia snapped.

Renji stared at her, his eyes cold and angry. “That night we camped in Hueco Mundo. Before we caught up with Ichigo and the others. You coughed up half a camellia and a good inch of stem in your sleep. I… figured we had more pressing concerns at the time, but I asked your brother to keep an eye on you after we got home.”

Rukia took a gulp of her drink. “Well, congratulations, Detective Abarai, you cracked the case. You’re so smart that I’m sure you know how these things end, so we don’t need to discuss it.”

Renji squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and then opened them again. “It doesn’t… it doesn’t have to be a death sentence, you know?”

“It’s complicated,” Rukia grumbled. “I’m not explaining it to you, but it’s not… solvable, and I can’t… I won’t give up. Not this time.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Renji continued, his voice quieter. “There are ways to… manage it. Live with it.”

Rukia’s brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s a disease of the soul, y’know, not the body, which is why humans don’t get it. With a strong enough will, you can keep it in check. The key, the thing that really lets it get ahold of your lungs, is when you start to lose hope.”

“You want me to live in denial, then?”

“No, not quite. But there’s some… techniques. We live a really long time, Rukia. Things may seem one way now, but… but who’s to say how they’ll be in sixty or seventy years, right? I mean, it’s not easy, but if you can imagine sort of… jarring up your feelings and packing them away for later.”

“Like pickles.”

“Yeah, like pickles.”

Rukia finished her saucer and reached for the bottle.

“Another thing that works sometimes is to try to…” Renji gestured helplessly. “Reframe it. I’m sure you’ve read poems about courtly love.”

Rukia made a face. “I fail to see how reading old-timey thirst poetry about wasting away from wanting to sleep with someone else’s wife is going to help anything.”

Renji’s face took on a pained cast. “Yeah, I guess some of them are like that. But being in love with someone who doesn’t love you back doesn’t mean your life is...meaningless. There can be something really beautiful and noble and sorta romantic in and of itself about loving with no hope of reciprocation. That you can still be of… of service to a person, even if they never notice you.”

“Renji, that’s fucking nonsense,” Rukia informed him, topping up his drink as well. “Where do you get these ideas?”

“Or you can just really absorb yourself in some goal. Be so busy you don’t have time to worry about love. Time passes quickly when--”

“Renji, just stop. I know you’re trying to help, but I’m… I’m sick and no amount of made-up wishful thinking is going to make me better.”

Renji’s face rapidly cycled through a number of emotions, like he kept coming up with things to say and then biting his tongue instead. “It’s not fucking made up, okay? People have lived with it for years, you know. Decades. Fuck, Rukia do you know selfish this is?”

“‘Selfish’?” Rukia echoed incredulously. The alcohol was starting to hit, and it made her feel unmoored, a raft floating in a sea of her own grief and anger. What did he know anyway? He was married to his job and his duty. The truest companion, the most generous soul, so free with his heart to everyone he called friend, but he didn’t know jack shit about being in love. Renji was the most transparent person in Soul Society. If he had ever fallen in love, it would have been public knowledge. Maybe his heart didn’t even work that way. What the Hell did he know?

“Yeah,” Renji spat back. “Selfish and cruel. How can you love someone-- even if they don’t love you back-- and-- and-- let yourself die from it? What kind of a monster would do that? You can hold on, Rukia. You’re so strong, I know you can. Just… just listen to me, for once. I can help you.”

Rukia felt her eyes burning, so she grabbed the bottle and took a long drink from it until her whole face burned. “Fuck. Off,” she replied, slamming it down on the table.

“I won’t,” Renji growled. “Ichigo cares a lot for you and it would kill him, Rukia, you hear me? You can’t do this to him, or-- or the rest of us, either.”

Rukia stared at Renji uncomprehendingly. The room was starting to swim. “What the fuck does any of this have to do with Ichigo?” She suddenly felt very tired, so she folded her arms and put her head down on them. “You fucking dumbass.”

#renji's birthday 2k21 #my writing #why isn't there a camellia emoji?? i used hibiscuses because they kinda look like camellias but imagine they are camellias #i think the primary driver behind me writing this was just an excuse to get back on my camellia bullshit

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idiotwhotalkstoomuch · 4 years

Text

So after rewatching Kyoko’s fake death in DR3 I couldn’t help but imagine one with the SDR2 cast in it as well

The DR1 cast members there are still there as well btw

I included Nagito for angst overload and for funsies

The story progresses relatively the same with these as the forbidden actions

Nagito Komaeda - Using his left hand

Kazuichi Souda - Talking to Sonia Nevermind

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu - Is not allowed to be alone

Akane Owari - Participating in combat or violence

Sonia Nevermind - Cannot say the names of people not present

Not the best but I tried

Now you’re probably wondering where a certain future boy’s forbidden action is

Anyone with a brain cell probably realized what I did considering I already what scene inspired this

Hajime Hinata/ Izuru Kamukura - Living past the fourth time limit without more than three of the present remnant of despairs dead

Obviously I can’t keep Kyoko’s death in because that would just be unnecessary and angst overload so like here’s a replacement forbidden action

Kyoko Kirigiri - Speaking to Makoto Naegi

Now back to killing my favorite character of all time

I imagine Aoi is the one to go and get him since he was the only one capable of autopsies and he had to perform one on Ruruka

Sonia is distressed and goes to Hajime for perhaps support and the sheer horror in her expression is something I couldn’t even describe

She wouldn’t flat out scream and just go into shock as she looked at Hajime’s corpse

Fuyuhiko cursed that this better be a fuckin joke and since it obviously is (denial~) it’s not funny

Kazuichi would be the one to scream and immediately run to the corpse frantically shaking the boy’s body

Akane would be similar to Fuyuhiko saying Hajime ain’t funny for pulling this and even threatens to hit Hajime’s corpse if he doesn’t wake up (Makoto of course stops her from trying warning her of her forbidden action)

Makoto would be horrified because Monaca’s warning was “A survivor of a killing game Naegi Makoto was involved in will die” and they had assumed it would be Aoi or Kyoko. They hardly even considered someone from Jabberwock

They look at his forbidden action and they start to flat out cry because the FTE’s are canon here

They’re crying cause like “I thought we trusted each other Hajime! Why didn’t you tell us!?!”

“I thought we were soul brothers why didn’t you tell us!?!”

“No! You have to go to Novoselic and rule with me! Please wake up!”

“We’re blood brothers dammit! Wake the fuck up!”

“Dammit! I’ll beat you up if you don’t stop joking around!”

Nagito...... starts laughing

They all turn to stare at him first thinking he’s gonna break into a Hope speech but despite the tears in their eyes they can clearly see the distress, horror and grief in Nagito’s expression

Nagito does not take the death well.

He couldn’t break his forbidden action here because Hajime had actually removed his arm for a while because Hajime wanted to reduce the risk of him activating his forbidden action.

Despair swirls are in his eyes as he just laughs an agonized laughter as he stares madly at Hajime’s body and just starts rambling about his luck cycle and what good luck is gonna f#cking happen!?!

Yeah he cursed in his grief because let’s be honest

Nagito has lost his entire family and has gone through several very traumatic events and now here is the man he loved with every fiber of his heart and soul, laying on the ground dead

Ryota is immediately scared and Makoto runs to try and calm him down

To emphasize his horror and grief he physically shoves Makoto off him with one arm and is laughing madly just needing to poor his grief out

Eventually it changes to hysterical crying and sobbing because WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY

HIS LUCK TOOK SOMEONE HE LOVED A G A I N

OF COURSE HE WASNT SAFE FROM HIM EVEN WITH ULTIMATE LUCK HIS LUCK JUST TAKES AND TAKES WITH NO MERCY AND NOW HAJIME HAS BEEN CLAIMED CAUSE HE LET HIS USELESS ASS GET CLOSE!

Aoi manages to sneak behind him and knock him out because his grief was too much to even witness anymore

He’s a lot less energetic and lively after waking up (he had calmed down but was left pretty much empty) and the SDR2 survivors do try to comfort him but it’s useless

He wasn’t going crazy anymore his mind was just so.... tired

When the others go to save him at the end, he’s still pretty empty and just fights to survive having no energy to try harder

This may seem OOC but considering his childhood and the events of the killing game then this I imagine Nagito is just so tired and empty he couldn’t take it anymore

Now I have to give hope at this ending so Mikan comes over with the cure

I know that’s a pretty cheap move but I imagine Hajime/Izuru has a naturally AND artificially stronger immune system

(Basically Hajime already had a good immune system since I doubt he would be considered if he wasn’t in good health and obviously HPA didn’t want to wast time with having Izuru sick so ye)

Also remember Nagito’s luck alongside Izuru’s

Like how Kyoko just shows up in the headmaster’s office to show he’s alive, Hajime shows up from the boat to show he’s alive

Que nearly getting tackled by Akane and Kazuichi

Sonia and Fuyuhiko are much more respectful about it and just express their happiness. (Though Fuyuhiko does threaten Hajime to tell him next time about shit like that or he swears to Atua-)

After their teary welcoming, Nagito is at a distance staring at the scene in shock and Hajime is kinda nervous as he walks over and greets Nagito.

He isn’t overdramatic or anything.

Nagito just goes over and after a bit of silence, shakes his hand and they hug

(I COULDNT KILL HIM LOL IM A SLUT FOR GOOD HAJIME AND NAGITO ANGST WITH A HAPPY ENDING)

#danganronpa #sdr2 #dr3 #hajime hinata #fuyuhiko kuzuryuu #kazuichi souda #fuyuhiko kuzuryu #akane owari #sonia nevermind #makoto naegi #nagito komaeda #aoi asahina #komahina #izuru kamakura

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acousticcheeze · 3 years

Text

Here's my 100 questions for my OC thing!

My OC is Laureli, a 6'2 Altmer trying to make his way in Skyrim

1. What do they smell like?

Whatever alchemy ingredient he’s been working with, really. Lavender is what he smells like most often, though.

2. What is their voice like?

A smooth-ish medium pitch Altmer voice that has elements of calm and irritation.

3. What is their biggest motivator?

Helping others through his alchemy. He wants to improve medicine for Skyrim, as well as all of Tamriel.

4. What is their most embarrassing memory?

He had a whole scientific presentation one year that ended up being completely wrong. He got humiliated in front of everyone.

5. How do they deal with/react to pain?

Winces at it, curses, and then gets to treating the problem.

6. What do they like to wear?

Functional clothes that keep him warm and allow him to carry alchemy ingredients in his pockets.

7. Which of their relationships have impacted them most positively?

The relationships with some of the people he’s helped over the years. It gave him a sense of purpose and fulfillment knowing that he could help people, save people.

8. What’s the weirdest thing they’ve ever eaten?

He’s an alchemist...in Skyrim...I’m pretty sure there are a few contenders… (giants toe, large/small antlers, ectoplasm, the list goes on)

9. Describe the way that they sleep.

Normal side sleeper. Prefers to sleep on his left side.

10. What is their favorite food/kind of food?

Horker stew. It’s actually way better than he thought it would be.

11. What do they feel most insecure about?

If what he’s doing is good enough. He has big problems with perfectionism that still persist with him even after leaving Summerset.

12. How do they like to dress?

Robes with an alchemy enchantment and a hood.

13. How do they react to feelings of guilt?

He tries to shake them off, but has panic attacks and whatnot sometimes as a result of them.

14. How do they react to/deal with betrayal?

Is completely shattered by it. He’s dealt with this so many times before, though, so he keeps his cards close to his chest.

15. What is their greatest achievement?

Creating potions that help much more than the average cure disease potion would, as well as all sorts of other concoctions. Also, he’s created a sort of disinfectant and is working on a hand sanitizer.

16. What are they like when they’ve gotten too little sleep?

Cranky, cranky, cranky.

17. What are they like when they’re drunk?

Drunk? Oh no no no no Laureli does not drink (and even if he did he’d be out real quick)

18. What kind of music do they enjoy?

He isn’t really into music, but he enjoys the songs the bard plays at the Bannered Mare.

19. Are they right or left handed?

Right, but is practicing with his left hand too in case something happens to his right.

20. Fears?

Death and failure, mostly.

21. Favorite kind of weather?

As the sun rises and there’s dew all over the grass, the light reflecting through each drop.

22. Favorite color?

The color of eyes. Or, more specifically, the hundreds of little pinpricks of different colors inside of eyes, It’s really quite fascinating.

23. Do they collect anything?

OH YEAH. So many different alchemy ingredients and random stuff to be used in his next works-

24. Do they prefer either hot or cold weather more?

Cold, which is good since he lives in Skyrim.

25. What is their eye color?

Chartreuse (like most Altmer)

26. What is their race/ethnicity?

Altmer

27. Hair color?

White

28. Are they happy where they are currently?

Yup. Breezehome is small, but manageable, and Whiterun is a decent hold to live in.

29. Are they a morning person?

Yes. He gets tired around 9 and can’t stay up past 12.

30. Sunrise or sunset?

Sunrise.

31. Are they more messy or more organized?

Very organized. Again, he’s a perfectionist.

32. Pet peeves?

People touching his things as well as people inserting themselves into his business.

33. Do they own any objects of significant personal importance?

An amulet of Talos a Nord gave him. He hadn’t gotten the chance to learn much about Talos at home, and he found it very interesting talking to the local Nords about their beliefs. That amulet reminds him of his first day in Skyrim, the first day of his new life.

34. Least favorite food?

Taffy treats, or anything with that sort of texture and stickiness that can get stuck to his teeth very easily.

35. Least favorite color?

Very pale green. It looks gross.

36. Least favorite smell?

Death. (Yes, death has a smell)

37. When was the last time they cried?

Recently.

38. Were they with anybody the last time they cried?

No. Oh Auri-el, no no no no. He cries alone and he makes sure of it.

39. Tell us about one of the times they got injured?

Was in a fire when he was younger, he has a burn going up the inner leg on his right leg.

40. Do they have any scars?

Only mental ones. (and the burn scar on his leg)

41. Do they struggle with any mental health issues?

Perfectionism, past abuse, self hate, among others.

42. Do they have any bad habits?

Picking at his nails. He knows it makes them hurt and get bloody, but sometimes he just can’t help it.

43. Why might someone dislike them?

He can be very rude if he’s working, but to be fair, it is really annoying to be bothered in the middle of your work.

44. Why might someone love them?

Who wouldn’t love an overworked science boye? But in all seriousness, if he loves someone, he will be very caring towards them and is also just great listener. Tries not to care any more though because of personal trauma.

45. Do they believe in ghosts?

Yup. He’s heard of people’s encounters with them. Honestly, you’d be stupid to not believe in them.

46. Is there anyone they would trust with their lives?

At this point? No. Farkas later down the line? Yes.

47. Are they romantically interested in anyone?

Farkas, but we ain’t talking about that yet~

48. Are they dating/married to anyone?

49. Do they like surprises?

No. Please do not surprise this poor man he will stagger back and crash into everything.

50. When is their birthday?

9th of Hearthfire (September 9th)

51. How do they usually celebrate their birthday?

He takes a few seconds to acknowledge it and then gets on with his work.

52. Do they have any family?

Yup! A Mom, a Dad, a younger sister, and a male cousin that lives nearby (he’s in the Thalmor and the whole family has very Pro-Thalmor views)

53. Are they close to their family?

HAH- no~

54. What is their MBTI type?

INTJ (Damn this list for making me look up stereotypes for this. Honestly I hate the MBTI system so much-)

55. What is their zodiac sign?

Virgo

56. What Hogwarts House would they be in?

Ravenclaw

57. What D&D alignment are they?

If lawful chaotic good was a thing then yes

58. Do they ever have nightmares? If so, what about?

Yes, but they are often so tangled up that it’s hard to get any real meaning from them.

59. What are their views on death?

“It’s fine, it’s fine, I’ll be fine-” Hopes that he’ll be fine but is really scared about it.

60. What is something that they’re sure to laugh at?

Bad science puns. He will stifle a chuckle before telling you how bad your joke was.

61. When bored, how do they pass time?

This man does not get bored. He will always find something alchemy related to study or look into.

62. Do they enjoy being outside?

Yes. Laureli loves the Skyrim weather (for the most part. Places like Dawnstar and Winterhold suck)

63. Do they have an accent?

Yes. He has the typical Altmer accent.

64. Upon seeing a slice of chocolate cake, what is their first reaction?

“Why is this here? This isn’t mine.”

65. If they knew they were going to die, what would they do/say

He would probably take too long deciding and die before he could do/say anything.

66. How do they feel about sex?

Sex repulsed asexual.

67. What is their sexuality?

GAY

68. Do they become squeamish at the sight of blood?

Nope.

69. Is there anything that they find really gross?

He’s seen so much it would take a lot to surprise him here.

70. Which TV Trope(s) best describes them?

Grumpy scientist with no people skills.

71. Do they enjoy helping people?

Yes, definitely

72. Are they allergic to anything?

Not really. (Lucky)

73. Do they have a pet?

74. Are they quick to anger? What are they like when they loose their temper?

Nope, unless you press his buttons. His anger is pretty much “What in the name of Auri-el is wrong with you?! Don’t touch my equipment!!”

75. How patient are they?

Very...until you hit his limit. Then he gets passive aggressive.

76. Are they good at cooking?

Not really. He can be good at it, he just chose not to learn in favor of working on his projects. Can make enough to live on, though.

77. Favorite insult? Do they insult people often?

He doesn't have a favorite insult (he rarely insults people).

78. How do they act when they’re particularly happy?

Talking fast, pacing, flappy hands.

79. What do they do when they learn about other people’s fears?

Try to avoid bringing those fears up around them and avoiding making fun of them. If their fear is nearby, he will either tell them or take care of it. (which is good because Farkas is scared of spiders)

80. Are they trustworthy?

Yes, but you have to be a very certain kind of person to work with him.

81. Do they try to hide their emotions? Are they good at it?

Sometimes, especially romantic feelings. Romantic attraction? Nope, not possible- (It totally is; he’s in denial)

82. Do they exercise regularly?

With all of the walking he does around various holds, yes.

83. Are they comfortable with the way they look?

Yes. He’s a perfectionist with many things, but has learned to let go a bit more when it comes to his appearance. He still will take ages to get ready, though.

84. What are some physical features that they find attractive on people?

Tattoos, braids, basically everything you’d see on a typical Nord. It’s so different from his home and he’s completely enamored.

85. What kind of personalities do they find attractive?

Himbo nord men. Sweet morons basically.

86. Do they like sweet foods?

Not really. Sweet foods do have their place, but he isn’t wanting to get any cavities, so he tries to limit his sugar. (Especially since Altmer live 200-300 years aprox)

87. What is their age?

52 (~20s for an Altmer)

88. Are they tall or short or somewhere in between?

Tall, but about average for an Altmer

89. Do they wear glasses or contacts?

No, but if he did he would have half-moon spectacles.

90. Do they consider themselves attractive?

Not really. He doesn’t really think anyone is attractive. (Well, except for Nord himbos, but he doesn’t know that until he meets Farkas)

91. What is their sense of humor like?

Practically nonexistent, but when there is humor it’s mostly dry and sardonic.

92. What mood are they most often in?

That sort of focused work mode you get in when you’re really concentrating, as well as somewhat-sociable-but-still-kind-of-tired-and-grumpy

93. What kinds of things anger them?

People messing up his equipment. Oh sweet Auri-el, if you touch his things he will explode. Also, he hates the racism that the Thalmor promote. (He hates racism in general, but he hates the Thalmor’s views the most).

94. Outlook on life?

“It sucks, but I do find quite a bit fascinating and I’ll help where I can.”

95. What kind of things make them sad/depressed?

His perfectionism, how lonely he knows he is, and more.

96. What is their greatest weakness?

Again, his perfectionism, as well as having his work dictate more in his life than he should.

97. What is the greatest strength?

His brain. He remembers small details extremely well, and is practically an encyclopedia when it comes to alchemy.

98. Something that they regret?

How awful he used to be to everyone back home. He got a lot of pushback on his dreams and who he was, so he lashed out. Even though there wasn’t much he could do there, he still regrets hiring his family and wants to try at a relationship again with them (lol good luck).

99. Biggest accomplishment?

How is this different from “Greatest Achievement”?

100. Create your own! (Why is his alchemy so different from the norm?)

Because he’s trying to do something much more along the lines of modern medicine as opposed to just potions.

101. (Bonus!) Why is he in Skyrim?

Because it’s rather lacking in the medicine department compared to the other provinces, so he decided his talents would be best used there. Obviously, his family protested, but he went anyways.

#oc #laureli #skyrim

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